Harry leaned back casually at his seat with a smirk as the Gryffindor table burst out in laughter. He folded his arms in front of him and waited patiently, grin in place, as his housemates slowly composed themselves.

“That was brilliant!” said an excited first year whose name Harry couldn’t quite remember.

“You really do get yourself into some awesome adventures,” commented Dean, who was sitting a couple seats down from him.

“Oy, tell us another one, Harry!” said Seamus, seated across from Dean.

Harry laughed lightly, bringing his crossed arms forward to rest on the table. “Another one? You lot really are hard to please...” He paused, frowning, and everyone looked at him, waiting with bated breath. “...But who am I to turn down a wanting audience?” His frown morphed into his characteristic crooked grin and a few people actually cheered in their excitement.

He really did have them wrapped around his little finger, he’d thought he wanted that once, but now the reality brought him no real pleasure. “Well, let's see, you probably don’t want to hear me drone on about the time I was nearly eaten by a manticore...” he said furrowing his brow, though it was clear by the way everyone leaned in that yes, they surely did. He tried not to let show how tired he suddenly felt, all he could think about was getting back to the dorm where he could have some semblance of privacy.

Ron came to his rescue.

“Hey, he hasn’t even had a chance to touch his food yet, there will be plenty of time for stories later, yeah?” Ron said diplomatically. The others murmured in disappointment but quickly enough conceded and the conversation finally moved away from the exploits of the famous Harry Potter.

Smiling at his friend with a small nod, Harry let out a small relieved breath as he turned his own attention to his still full plate. He was nowhere near hungry but he was thankful for the excuse to fade from the center of attention. In truth, he was utterly exhausted. Plagued with horrendous visions of Voldemort's sadistic activities almost nightly now, a proper night’s sleep was nothing but a distant pleasant memory.

Still he couldn't bring himself to resent the visions, no matter the toll they took on him. They were giving him terrible insight into Voldemort's plans, and he had to believe that knowing what Voldemort got up to couldn't possibly be a bad thing. Eventually, they may prove to be to his advantage. He had made a ritual of casting silencing charms around his four-poster each night so he was the only one awakened by his screams, and applying a subtle glamour each morning to hide the persistent dark smudges that had appeared under his eyes.

When the visions had first started, he'd gone to the headmaster, the only person he believed had the power to help him. Indeed Dumbledore had been greatly disquieted by the matter, but he'd only given Harry a journal of sorts to record his visions. He'd explained that he had one to match and anything Harry wrote in his, Dumbledore would be alerted and able to see immediately. If ever Harry found himself unable to reach the headmaster directly, he would be able to use the journal. Harry had been grateful for the connection, it had given him a subtle sense of security.

But after a few days, he'd noticed the headmaster had begun to act oddly towards him, cold even. Gone was the man he'd often secretly regarded as something of a grandfather, replaced by a man who saw him as nothing more than another student among many. He'd tried not to let it show just how much the change had bothered him.

He hardly liked to admit to himself just how much the headmaster’s attention meant to him. It made him feel weak to need someone so after a lifetime of essentially being on his own. So he didn’t complain, he wasn't one to brandish his weaknesses for all to see. Especially not after he'd spent the last several years cultivating the perfect persona of the Boy Who Lived. They needed a hero, and they’d chosen to believe he was the one for them. As a first-year, so eager to please everybody, he'd learned quickly enough how people had expected him to behave and had desperately tried to morph himself to fit their expectations.

Somewhere along the way, he'd become the Boy Who Lived everyone wanted. Confident and easygoing, with just a hint of swaggering arrogance to top it all off. Just like his father, Snape had always said, not knowing the words were never the insult he intended. Because Harry no longer had a problem with pretending to be the person everyone expected him to be, the problem was he couldn't seem to forget it wasn’t real. It was nothing more than a mask and no one was allowed to see the broken, exhausted mess beneath the facade.

Somehow Ron and Hermione had seen more of the real him than he'd ever intended anyone to, and they hadn’t abandoned him or sought to hurt him with what they knew. He counted himself extremely lucky for that. Even they hadn’t seen everything though, there were some things he desperately didn’t want them to know. Those things he kept hidden from even himself sometimes.

“-about you, Harry?”

Harry looked up from his plate, he'd actually managed to shove down a decent amount of food, Hermione would have been proud. Of course, he'd been so preoccupied in his thoughts he'd completely lost track of the conversation around him.

“Wha?” he asked around a mouthful of food; Hermione would have been a bit less proud of that moment. He shrugged inwardly at the thought, she was off with Ginny somewhere and Ron sure wasn’t going to scold him about it.

“I was just saying, you must be excited to go home this year.” It was Neville who spoke this time from right across from him. “What's your family doing for the holiday?” he asked earnestly.

Harry felt his stomach drop as a wave of dread washed over him. No, excited was not even on the spectrum of emotions he felt regarding any trip to the Dursley's. He really didn’t want to think about the holiday's right now, he'd been doing a fantastic job of pretending he would never have to go back.

He'd wanted to enjoy these last couple days before heading back to that hellhole, because this year, he didn’t have a choice. The ministry was forcing Dumbledore to shut down Hogwarts for the break so they could safely strengthen the wards. Though Harry was certain they were plenty strong already. No doubt it was another ministry ploy to undermine the headmaster or some such nonsense.

He didn’t see why he should have to suffer for it though. He'd begged Dumbledore to let him stay, but Dumbledore, true to his behavior all year had barely stopped walking to say: “Have a happy Christmas with your family Harry, I'm sure they'll be glad to have you in their company this year.” He hadn’t even given Harry a proper chance to convince him otherwise.

“Yeah, I’d bet your Christmas is amazing, you probably get hundreds of presents, from people all over!” Colin Creevy chimed in from a seat quite nearby that Harry was sure had been occupied by someone else just minutes ago.

Harry took a steadying breath as he put his fork down somewhat more carefully than necessary. He pushed his emotions down fiercely, donning an easy smile as he formulated a lie.

Harry let out his best good-natured laugh, “I wouldn’t say hundreds, exactly,” he said, but he was hardly going to explain that he was grateful to get the few presents he did each year.

“But yeah, my family really likes to go all out when I’m home. I'll let you in on a secret though,” he said lowering his voice just barely and leaning in, “Honestly, I’d much rather stay here, where the action is. Nothing too exciting ever happens in the muggle world, not like I’m used to anyway. And it's not like muggles can really understand just how important I am.” He received several sympathetic nods as he spoke.

Looking around, everyone looked eager to get a chance to talk to him, especially some of the first years he was slowly becoming familiar with. He could tell it was only the beginning of a long line of questions he desperately didn’t want to answer, and they'd already dredged up some emotions he wasn’t prepared to deal with yet. He suppressed a sigh and focused on making sure his smile didn't waver.

***

Severus glowered over the Great Hall, his black eyes sweeping over the student body, studiously avoiding focus on the Gryffindor table. He didn’t need to look to know what he would find there, it would be the same display he saw every meal Potter bothered to show up to. His scowl deepened as he heard the swell of laughter emanating from the table in question, and he could not help but to look at the scene before him.

His eyes passed right over the multitude of guffawing Gryffindors going straight to the source. Potter was in his usual seat, an arrogant smirk on his face as he surveyed his handiwork. It was obvious Potter knew just how much influence he had on his peers, and seemed to delight in taking advantage of it.

Severus looked away again. He had no desire to watch Potter basking in his unearned renown. How was it that only he could see the boy for the arrogant prat he was? He didn’t deserve to be admired so, and not just by his peers, but even the other professors. Potter was near the top of his class though from what Severus had seen, the boy never put the slightest effort into his assignments. Obviously he had everyone else neatly under his thumb. Everyone but him.

Only he knew the real Potter.

Unlike his colleagues, he could see right through the boy's celebrity. He could see how Potter manipulated others to get what he wanted out of them, it would be impressive were it not undercut by his complete lack of subtlety about it. Luckily for him everyone else was too blind to notice the way the boy naively calculated his every move and clumsily snatched at every passing opportunity to exploit his fame.

Severus knew better than to think Potter's past deeds were mere acts of impulsiveness. They had been premeditated ways to bring even more attention to himself, to brand him as a hero and bring him back to the spotlight just as attention would start to drift elsewhere. The boy was another Lockhart in the making, a true Potter legacy.

Which had made his earlier chat with the headmaster all that much harder to swallow.

Why did it have to be his responsibility to come to Potter's aid every time something went wrong? And there was always something; this time it was the boy's visions from what the headmaster speculated to be a magical connection to the Dark Lord. Albus had requested- in his infuriating way that left no room for refusal- that he teach the boy to shield his mind through Occlumency. A task he was less than thrilled with to say the least.

His eyes moved unconsciously back to the Potter boy and he watched for a moment with increasing irritation. The students around Potter were all hanging on his every word, it was sickening. Unable to watch any longer Severus stood, stalking in their direction with the intent to ruin a Potter's day. While the news had been unfortunate for him, he knew for Potter it would undoubtedly be devastating. Imagining the boy’s reaction was enough to alleviate his foul mood slightly.

He slowed as he reached the table, his approach had gone unnoticed.

“...my family really likes to go all out when I go home. I'll let you in on a secret though,” Potter was saying, “Honestly, I’d much rather stay here, where the action is. Nothing exciting ever happens in the muggle world, not like I’m used to anyway. And it's not like muggles can really understand just how important I am.”

Severus scowled at the boy's ungrateful words, but was unsurprised by them. He had never known Potter to show appreciation for any of the many sacrifices that had been made for him. He had no concept of how lucky he was and of course the brat wouldn’t appreciate even his own family's efforts.

Inexplicably enraptured by Potter’s magnificent presence, the other students paid him no mind as he hovered over Potter’s shoulder for a moment. He lost his patience very quickly. “Potter!” he barked, causing half the table to jump. All eyes were on him now, slight fear tinged with curiosity written all over their faces. Except for Potter. Potter looked at him unfazed but expectant, as if his professor's sudden appearance was nothing out of the norm. The boy opened his mouth to speak, but Severus refused him the opportunity.

“Come to my office, Potter. Now,” he said curtly. He turned and walked away, knowing the boy would follow.

He made his way down the hall, quickening his pace gradually until he could hear Potter half jogging to keep up.

“Sir?” he panted after a minute. “What is this all about? I haven’t done anything wrong... have I?” he asked, perhaps a bit too innocently.

Perhaps nothing that I know of yet, Severus scoffed mentally, no doubt there was something and the boy was unsubtly gauging whether or not he'd been caught out. Severus chose not to reply, instead letting Potter stew in the silence. If the boy was feeling guilty about something, he might be able to drag it out of him eventually, but that wasn’t the point of this particular meeting.

“In,” he commanded, opening the door as he watched the teen scurry inside. He waited for Potter to take a seat before strolling over to his own chair, eying his student carefully as he sat. To his disappointment, the boy showed no signs of nervousness, having donned a vaguely disinterested expression.

“Your wish has been granted,” he said suddenly, clearly catching the teen off guard.

“What are you... I mean, er- what wish?” he managed, confusion quickly overtaking the obviously feigned boredom.

“You will not be going back to your family for the holiday,” he stated simply, choosing this once to ignore the boy's ineloquence. He grimaced as he watched the emotions flicker across the boy's open face; surprise, excitement, and then curiously, fear showing distinctly before he composed himself.

“But why, sir?” Potter asked guardedly.

“It has become obvious that allowing you to go back to your relatives care would be far more harmful than we originally thought.”

The boy tensed at that, eyes widening slightly. “What? Why now? I thought that was the safest place for me?” he asked nervously. Severus nodded, “In theory, yes, however every vision you have puts you at greater risk. The wards surrounding your relative's will offer you no protection against that.” To his irritation, Potter relaxed visibly as he spoke, he needed the boy to take him seriously.

He pressed on, hardening his tone. “With their increasing frequency, it seems the situation has become most urgent. These are not merely visions you’ve been having. You seem to be connected with the Dark Lord; somehow you are able to see into his mind. As of yet he is unaware of the connection but that could easily change even before the day is out. Should he become aware of the connection he will readily use it to control your thoughts, learn your secrets, even drive you to madness.” He paused to let the words sink in.

“We need to use this time to ensure you are able to shield your feeble mind from these visions. That is why you will be learning the art of Occlumency.”

Potter shook his head. “I don't understand... what if I don’t want to stop the visions? I'm willing to take the risk, I'm the only one who can see what Voldemort is getting up to!”

Somehow he managed not to roll his eyes. “Leave it to Prince Potter to be more concerned about being the center of attention than the safety of everyone around him. It is not always about you, Potter, if the Dark Lord has access to your mind, your memories, it will put us all in danger,” he sneered. “Perhaps you should consider there are other methods to gather information, strategies that have been in use since long before you came around.”

Potter squared his shoulders. “I won't get rid of it. I’ll make sure Voldemort doesn't find out about the connection, it gives us an advantage and I can protect myself from the consequences.”

Severus raised a skeptical brow. “Merlin knows you'll need every advantage you can get, but pray tell, just how do you plan to protect yourself?”

“I don't know yet, but I've done it before, I'll think of something this time too,” the boy said with all the confidence of someone who had absolutely no idea what they were getting themselves into.

Severus sneered at the child's arrogance. “You overestimate yourself, boy.”

“You have no idea what I'm capable of, I can help!” Potter said, fists curling with frustration on his lap.

Severus felt his ire rising.“This is not a game Potter! I have a very clear picture of the kind of damage you are capable of inflicting in the name of 'helping' others; perhaps it is you who is in need of a reminder? It was you who, unable to protect yourself, allowed yourself to be captured at the end of last year's tournament. You who negligently stood by while the Dark Lord's plan came to fruition, and he was given new life as could only have been attained with your coveted help,” Severus paused, taking perverse pleasure in watching the boy's self-assurance drain from him as the words hit home, and then carried on without mercy.

“It seems the great Boy Who Lived couldn’t do a thing to protect his comrade when it mattered. It was because of your incompetence that the Diggory child had to die. So forgive me if I'm less than willing to allow your messiah complex to endanger my own life.”

Potter just stared at him, eyes wide as he finished his diatribe, before quickly looking away. Severus felt no sympathy for the boy, it was long past time he learned to take responsibility for his recklessness. Severus decided to leave the boy to his thoughts.

Over a minute passed in silence, before Potter finally met his eye. Instead of the pouting resignation Severus had expected, it seemed the boy had come to a decision. Somehow, he had gotten through to the stubborn teenager.

“Okay, I'm listening,” Potter broke the silence. “What do I have to do?”

Severus nodded his approval. “You will be taught Occlumency, the magical defense of the mind against external penetration. An obscure branch of magic, but a highly useful one. It is a rare skill, one that of the faculty, only the Headmaster and myself possess. We will soon see if you too are capable of learning it, though I’ll admit to some doubts.” Severus reached down and pulled a large book from a concealed drawer and slid it across his desk so it lay in front of Potter.

“This book should provide you with sufficient background to prepare you for the start of your lessons tomorrow.” Potter looked at the book curiously, some excitement returning to him no doubt at the idea of learning something important that none of his peers knew. Severus couldn’t help but be amused: the teen's excitement was only because he didn’t yet know the details of the arrangement, as was clear by the next words out of Potter's mouth.

“So I don’t have to go back to the Dursley's? I can stay here at Hogwarts? What about the wards? Shouldn't I be speaking to Dumbledore to find out more about these lessons?” he asked, hardly pausing for breath.

Severus' lips twisted into a cold smile. “I will be supervising your lessons, Potter. You will be staying with me at my home for the duration of the break.”

He watched as Potter's face fell immediately.

“You? Can't Dumbledore teach me?” Potter did nothing to hide his disgust.

It was the exact reaction he'd been expecting, but somehow seeing it rubbed him the wrong way. It was he after all who was sacrificing his time and his safety to help the boy, Potter should be immensely grateful.

“With everything going on with the ministry, this is a trying time indeed for all of us, the headmaster must focus his efforts on what is important,” Severus went on matter-of-factly.

Potter shook his head. “I thought I was important,” he said with a hint of dejection which was quickly converted into frustration. “He can't possibly expect me to learn anything if you’re the one who's teaching me.”

Severus' eyes narrowed, a furious heat rising in him at the barefaced insult. “Just what are you saying, Potter?” he growled.

Potter had the nerve to let out a short laugh. “Isn't it obvious? I'm sure you're a fine teacher for all the other students here,” he began, though his tone indicated very different thoughts on the matter, “but you'll have to admit you hate me too much to really teach me properly.”

Severus stood slowly, leaning forward on his hands to close in the gap between himself and the self righteous teen before him. “Clearly you have forgotten who you are speaking to,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “I suggest you end this disrespectful streak here and now because if I should catch even the barest hint of obstinance from you once you enter my home, you can be certain that I will not be holding back as I do here. The headmaster will not be around to save you.” He paused, glaring at the boy, daring him to protest.

To both his satisfaction and disappointment, the boy stayed silent, though he glared back in defiance.

Severus reseated himself, and waved a hand towards the door. “We are done here,” he said simply, not taking his eyes off of the boy.

Potter, who had hunched himself back slightly into his chair as he'd spoken, straightened himself out and stood to leave. While he said nothing as he left, Severus only needed one look at the hardened expression on the boy's face and the tense set of his shoulders to know Potter had absolutely no intention of making this holiday easy for either of them.