“Mr. Potter.” 

The voice came from a distance, oddly muffled and slurred. The words made little sense so he thought to ignore them. What were words to him, anyway? They only held hurt, after all. 

Something brushed his forehead, a fresh breeze teased his hair. It smelled like lavender and — he struggled to place the other scents — mint and…pineapple? That made no sense.

“Mr. Potter, are you awake?”

“I didn’t hit him that hard. It’s not my fault he can’t stay on a broom.”

The voices were closer now, less muffled. 

“You are free to return to your House Common Room, Mr. Malfoy.”

“But I’m injured! Potter nearly broke my neck with his stunt. I demand better treatment or I’ll have you job!”

“Your arm is fully mended and you have no fear of any graver injuries, young man.”

“I can give you one if you want, Malfoy.”

“Put that wand away, Mr. Weasley. There will be no hexing in the infirmary.”

“Really, Ron. We’re here for Harry. Malfoy is just trying to make you angry.”

“Well, it’s working!”

Another faint breeze ruffled his hair and suddenly light stung his eyes. He must’ve made a noise because the arguing stopped and there was a loud squealing, scrape. His head throbbed and he lifted his hands to press against his eyes, only to have them caught and forced back to his side.

“None of that, Mr. Potter,” the first voice, Madam Pomfrey, scolded. “Open your eyes for me.”

“Hurts,” he grunted, not very articulately.

“Your eyes or your head?” the mediwitch inquired.

“If he’s doing any thinking at all, it’s probably his head,” Draco drawled not far away.

“If you wish to be useful, Mr. Malfoy, please fetch Professor Snape for me.”

“I’m not a house-elf!” Draco gasped indignantly.

“I’m here, Madam Pomfrey,” the potions master announced. 

“Good,” Madam Pomfrey said with a brisk tone, “I’m afraid we may have to brew different potions if what I believe is causing Mr. Potter’s pain is true. Head or eyes, Mr. Potter?”

“Both,” Harry rasped. “Bright.”

“It’s raining,” Draco grumbled.

He was ignored. Harry heard a swish of a wand and a moment later Madam Pomfrey rested her hand on his forehead. She hummed thoughtfully and straightened. “Try again.”

Cautiously, Harry cracked open his eyes. The room was dimmer than before but a bright…something hovered over him. He wasn’t wearing his glasses. Something moved before his eyes and he jerked back, causing his head to throb sharply. His glasses were settled onto his face a moment later and the bright something turned into a bright Madam Pomfrey. 

“I see nothing wrong with your eyes, Mr. Potter. Everything’s in working order and your breaks have been healed. There are a few potions you need to take at the evening meal tonight and another one tomorrow at breakfast.”

Harry stared, dumbstruck. Madam Pomfrey had a halo. Well, not a halo like some sort of Christmas-tree topper. It was like she was standing in front of a bright light, except the light was every color of the rainbow.  Her head was surrounded by a rainbow. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. It was so bright.

“Mr. Potter?” the mediwitch prompted when he continued to stare. His mouth was probably open in his astonishment.

Her wand lifted and a bright halo around her hand suddenly drew his attention. It, too, was surrounded by the rainbow.

“Are you okay, Harry? You’re staring.”

Hermione’s voice startled him from his gawking and his head swung around to look at her. His eyes widened even further, if such a thing were possible. An orangey-yellow with a good deal of pink along side it surrounded her. Beside her, Ron had a lemon-yellow and brilliant red as well as the same pink that was around Hermione surrounding him.

A hospital bed creaked and hard-soled shoes hit the floor. Draco circled the foot of Harry’s bed, expression twisted. “I think he’s finally lost what little intelligence.”

Harry shifted his attention to the Slytherin boy and drew back sharply. Like the others, he had color around him, but it was dark, sickly looking green shot through with dark pink and a dark, brownish yellow.

“Harry?” Hermione’s hand hesitantly touched his shoulder. “What is it?”

“Can you see it?” he ask.

Ron glanced around the infirmary. “See what, mate?” 

Madam Pomfrey leaned down to peer into Harry’s eyes. “There is nothing wrong with your eyes. What are you seeing?”

Harry blinked. “Light — halos.”

Madam Pomfrey straightened, lips pursing. “What kind of halos?”

His gaze shifted to the rainbow radiating around Madam Pomfrey’s head.”Colorful ones.”

Draco scoffed and Hermione gasped. Hermione started to speak, but Snape moved forward, holding a hand out to stop her. She squeaked in surprise. “Perhaps it’s just the blow to the head and will fade with time.”

Harry turned to the Potions Master and blinked in surprise. Unlike the others in the room, Snape looked like he was surrounded by a black cloud. There was absolutely no color in the cloud. The longer Harry stared, the darker the black appeared. 

“Mr. Potter.”

Harry jumped and focused on the professor’s face. Snape’s eyes narrowed. It was in that instant that Harry saw a flash of gold streak through the black with the quickness of a Snitch and then it was gone before he could focus on it. For a moment, Harry thought Snape was going to say something more, but he turned on his heel and strode from the infirmary. “Come along, Mr. Malfoy.”

Madam Pomfrey sighed and stowed her wand, saying, “I believe there is nothing that time and rest will not fix. You are free to go, Mr. Potter, but if these...halos change, please see me immediately.”

*.*.*.*.*.*.* 

Harry couldn’t prevent swiveling to look at the various colors that surrounded his peers as Hermione dragged him through the corridors from the hospital wing. There were so many combinations and intensities that prompted questions he couldn’t even begin to voice. He was so distracted by what he was seeing that he hadn’t realized where they were going before he heard Ron groan, “Why are we going to the library, Hermione?”

Hermione shushed Ron. “We don’t want Madam Pince to get angry. There’s something I want to look up — something Harry probably needs to see.”

“Harry doesn’t need to see anything in the library!” 

Hermione wound through the stacks before pausing in front of a sparsely filled shelf.

“We definitely didn’t need to come here,” Ron moaned. “We get enough of Trelawney’s lunacy in class. Besides, why would you want to read any of this anyway; you dropped the class.”

Hermione scowled at Ron, but rose up on her toes to grab a book off one of the higher shelves and hold it out to Harry. “Does this book glow?”

“Yes,” Harry said at the same time Ron said, “No.”

“I knew it!” Hermione squealed softly, shuffling closer to Harry and forcing him to take the book. “It’s a gift and a lot of people wish they had it. Oh, Harry, it can be so useful!”

Harry looked down at the book and then up at Hermione confused. “What is?”

Hermione rolled her eyes and snatched the book back to hold it up so they could see the cover: Color Me: A Guide to Colors and Their Meanings by Jesenia Keshet. The title had no meaning for either boy and Hermione huffed, lowering her voice to a whisper, “You can see auras, Harry.”

“You’re barmy,” Ron declared after a moment of perplexed silence. ”There’s no way Harry can be both a Parselmouth and a Synesthesia.”

Hermione straightened, looking mildly insulted. “I don’t see why not. The two abilities don’t contradict each other and it is entirely possible to have more than one ability.”

“That is entirely unfair,” Ron grumbled.

Harry frowned as he reluctantly accepted the book back from Hermione. “I didn’t ask for this to happen.”

“Oh, I know,” Ron admitted, still looking disgruntled. “It’s not your fault Malfoy can’t fly and you crashed head-first into the ground and knocked something loose. I guess we can count ourselves lucky that that’s all that was knocked loose.”

Harry laughed, smothering it quickly at Hermione’s reproachful look. “You should read the book,” she ignored Harry’s groan and Ron’s sympathetic one, “it’ll tell you what you are seeing and allow a better interpretation.”

Ron perked up at that. “Can you see if someone fancies you?”

“That is not a good use of the ability,” Hermione protested.

“So you can!” Ron exclaimed. “Mate, you’ve got to tell me what — ow! Hermione!”

Ron rubbed his arm where Hermione had punched him and she folded her arms, leveling them both with a disapproving frown. “You can’t go around gossiping about people’s auras. That’s rude and an invasion of privacy.”

“Sometimes you’re no fun,” Ron complained.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*  

It’d been a week and the auras around everyone hadn’t disappeared. It’d been a rough week, colors flashing from the corner of his eye, colors swirling and melding and changing as he watched. Ron and Hermione were fascinating in that respect. Hermione’s orangey-yellow would sometimes streak through with a burnt yellow, particularly when she was working on Arithmacy. Ron’s aura was remarkably stable. His brilliant red was often streaked through with bright orange and lemon-yellow. What interested Harry were the times Ron and Hermione interacted. Pink would suddenly flood through their auras and at times it almost appeared the auras were reaching for each other.

As interesting as Harry found his friends’ auras, the greater portion of his curiosity was turned toward the potions professor. It wasn’t that Snape’s aura was particularly interesting or that the colors changed to any degree. In fact, he never saw any color change at all. Snape’s aura was an all-consuming black. The black deepened, for lack of a better term, around the man’s left forearm, but for the most part it was uniform.

Harry wasn’t surprised, though he did wonder what had caused or was causing the man such deep emotional trauma. At least that’s what the book said the color meant. His brow furrowed. Though Snape could also be under spiritual attack. Perhaps that was the deeper black around his forearm. A parasitic entity. One Harry was familiar with since he, too, had black in his aura. 

It was a worry he didn’t want to think about. That was why he was currently using his study period in the Great Hall to watch Snape as he patrolled the Hall. He wanted to see that streak of gold again. 

“Oh, I see you’ve been enlightened.”

Harry startled, nearly knocking over his inkwell with his potions book he’d been pretending to read. ”Luna!”

The blonde Ravenclaw had settled onto the bench next to him without his noticing. Her large eyes almost seemed to look past him, but then he was distracted once again. Her aura was a swirl of indigo and violet with turquoise laying just beneath. They were colors he hadn’t seen around anyone else yet. She nodded at something, either in her thoughts or his, sometimes he wasn’t quite sure, and said, “You’ve managed to rid yourself of the wrackspurts. That’s good. They were doing nothing for you and probably gave you a great deal of confusion.”

Harry tore his eyes from her aura to look at her in sudden understanding. “You can see it?”

“No,” she said in a breezy tone, and turned away to look across the Hall.

Flummoxed, Harry could only blink at her and then turn to find Snape again. For a brief moment, he thought he finally understood the unusual girl.

“I don’t know what you can see, Harry,” she finally said and Harry had the feeling she was looking at him. “We’re all different, you know.”

“We are?” Harry asked, bemused.

Luna hummed her agreement, but her attention was back across the room. Harry would’ve called her expression dreamy if it’d been directed at anyone other than Snape. “I can see why you’re interested in Professor Snape. He’s a very interesting man.” Again, she turned to pin him with large eyes and an absent expression. “But then, so are you. You have a great deal in common.”

Harry opened his mouth to vehemently deny any similarity with the potions professor when Luna gave a slow blink and then focused intently. “It may help.”

*.*.*.*.*.*.*  

“It may help,” Luna had said. 

Help what? Help how?

Luna had skipped off after that, before Harry could form a question, and so he’d spent the last three days thinking about it. Not that it did him much good. The answer eluded him completely. 

Three days was enough time for him to have potions class twice. Malfoy was still that ugly green with burnt yellow. The only interesting thing to change in his aura was the dark pink that blossomed during class, Harry filed away the observation to consider later. Snape’s aura was still unmitigated black. That is, it was until Snape halted before Harry’s cauldron and sneered into the contents.

“Mr. Potter, it appears you believe your fame will give you a passing grade in my class—”

The rest of the professor’s words escaped Harry, because at that moment, he saw it again: the streak of gold that slashed through the unrelenting black of Snape’s aura. It was beautiful. Brighter than a galleon and faster than the golden snitch, Harry lifted a hand to see if he could catch it.

“Mr. Potter!”

The sharpness of the voice shattered his mesmerized state and the gold vanished again. His hand closed on nothing over Snape’s shoulder. Harry blinked and focused on the potions master’s face, drawing back sharply at the fury that flashed in the professor’s eyes. 

“Detention, Mr. Potter,” Snape snapped. “I expect you to report to my office after your last class for your task.”

And that was how Harry found himself standing outside Snape’s office wondering why he thought he could catch the gold in Snape’s aura. Auras weren’t tangible, Harry knew that, but he had still wanted to reach out and grab that gold flash, cup it in his hands and sweep away the surrounding black. Harry scowled. That was ridiculous.

Snape’s office door opened with a jerk and Harry took a startled step back before he could stop himself. Snape filled the door, glowering down at him, but there was that gold flash again and Harry’s eyes immediately went to it. 

“You’re late, Potter. Get in here and stop loitering outside my door.”

“Sorry, sir,” Harry mumbled, hurrying into the office, all the while keeping his gaze on the gold.

Snape’s frown twitched and he closed the door, striding around his desk, but didn’t sit. Instead, he appeared to be studying Harry. Snape put a hand down on a thin book that was on top of a small stack of parchment. They stared at each other in silence or, rather, Snape stared at Harry and Harry appeared to be focused on some point over Snape’s shoulder.

“You will be scrubbing cauldrons in the lab,” Snape finally intoned, jaw tightening when it didn’t appear that Harry was listening. “You will then write a twelve-inch essay on the importance of close attention while brewing potions and all the dangerous that can occur through inattentiveness — are you listening, Potter?”

“Yes!” Harry exclaimed, straightening. “It’s just — never mind, sir.”

Snape’s fingers tapped agains the thin book and then immediately stilled, as if he’d betrayed his thoughts. “Are you still seeing light halos?”

“Yes,” Harry answered before he could stop himself and cringed. “I mean, no.”

“Which is it?”

Harry’s attention drifted back to the gold that flash among the black. Snape straightened, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “You clearly see something, Mr. Potter, or there is more wrong with you than Madam Pomfrey was lead to believe.”

“They’re auras, sir,” Harry blurted. “I see them around everyone. So many colors, and they change all the time — well, sometimes. It depends. I don’t know. It’s hard to explain.”

Snape held up a hand and Harry bit back the words that wanted to keep falling from his tongue. The professor pinched the bridge of his nose and then released a quiet breath. “I can’t imagine what you must be seeing when you look at my aura—”

“It’s black,” Harry interrupted and he would’ve seen the brief flash of surprise on Snape’s face if he’d been looking. “Very black,” he repeated and then his eyes drifted down and to the left. “Not as black as around your left arm, though, sir. It doesn’t change. Just black all the time.”

“Then I fail to see why it is a cause for distraction,” Snape ground out, his right hand involuntarily moving to cover his left forearm. 

Harry’s head tilted and his eyes shifted upward again to focus on the space over Snape’s shoulder. “Except…”

He trailed off and his brow furrowed. Snape waited before impatiently prodding, “Except what?”

Harry blinked and met the professor’s dark eyes. “Except there’s a tiny bit of gold, just there.” 

He motioned vaguely and Snape twitched as if he was going to look but changed his mind. He wouldn’t have been able to see it anyway.

“It’s beautiful, sir,” Harry mumbled.

Snape sank into the chair behind him and repeated, “That does not explain your distraction. Surely there are others.”

Harry shook his head. “No. No one else has gold and I’ve only seen black in my own aura. I admit that I haven’t looked closely at others.”

“Why do you have black?” Snape demanded. 

Harry lifted a hand to his forehead. “It’s centered here, but there are other places. It’s kind of hard to see my own aura clearly.”

Snape’s mouth pressed to a thin line and his eyes narrowed on the infamous scar. Harry was staring at the gold again, not seeming to notice Snape’s preoccupation. The gold flickered and brightened and Harry drew in a sharp breath, his eyes growing wide. Snape’s thin fingers tapped again against the book. “These auras,” the potions master started, “I believe Granger has lectured you on them.”

“Yeah,” Harry muttered, distracted.

“Tell me what black means.”

It took a moment for the words to register and when they did, Harry straightened, his expression turning suspicious. “Black?”

“You said you had black in your aura, Mr. Potter,” Snape said impatiently, “surely you’ve not ignored that.”

Harry frowned. “I know, sir. It’s nothing important. At least for me.”

Snape scowled darkly at him, but Harry refused to say more. Finally, the potions professor dismissed him to scrub cauldrons for the rest of his detention. Harry diligently applied himself, sneaking glances at the dark professor to catch the glimpse of gold in the black aura.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*  

Two days after Harry’s detention, Snape swooped down on Harry and his friends when then were on their way to the Great Hall for lunch. His dark scowl caused Ron to pale, but the red-head stood firmly at Harry’s shoulder. Hermione shot a cautious glance at her male friends before politely greeting the potions professor, “Good afternoon, Professor Snape.”

Snape acknowledge her with a curt nod, but his dark eyes stayed narrowed on Harry. “You will come to my office immediately, Mr. Potter.”

“But we were on our way to lunch,” Ron protested.

“I am aware,” Snape drawled.

He stepped to the side and swept an arm out toward the stairs to the dungeon. For a short moment, Harry opened his mouth to protest, but swallowed it and nodded. “Bring me something if I miss lunch; will you?”

“Of course, Harry,” Hermione agreed immediately.

Ron was eying the potions professor. “Maybe we should come with you.”

“That is unnecessary, Mr. Weasley,” Snape said. 

Harry was just able to call a “thanks” over his shoulder before Snape had briskly ushered him down the dungeon stairs and into the office next to the potions classroom. The office door closed firmly behind them and Snape warded the door before turning to Harry. “You are being possessed and it must be removed.”

Harry retreated a step. “Sir?”

“You need an exorcism,” Snape declared. “Immediately.”

“I do not!”

“You do,” Snape insisted. “There is no choice.”

“Then you have to as well,” Harry snapped back.

Snape folded his arms, glowering darkly. “We’re not talking about me.”

“We should,” Harry said through grit teeth. “Your aura’s all black. It’s not healthy.”

Harry saw a muscle jump in Snape’s sallow cheek and Harry was sure the professor was going to level him with a blistering reply, but the fire in the hearth flared green and Dumbledore stepped neatly into the office. The Headmaster surveyed the room in a sweeping glance, pleasantly greeting them, “You said it was an emergency, Severus.”

“It has been found that Mr. Potter is suffering under a possession—”

“So is Snape!” Harry interrupted.

“—and must undergo an exorcism,” Snape finished, ignoring Harry.

Dumbledore’s brow rose over his half-moon glasses. “How was this discovered?”

Snape leveled Harry with a pointed look and Harry grudgingly admitted, “I can see auras.”

“Can you, now?” Dumbledore said, sounding intrigued. “How did that happen?”

Harry shrugged, but caught Snape’s narrowed eyes and said, “I’m not sure, professor.”

“Interesting,” Dumbledore murmured, stroking his beard. “And you say Professor Snape is possessed?”

“His left arm,” Harry agreed.

“My possession or not is inconsequential, Headmaster.”

Dumbledore hummed, examining them thoughtfully. Finally, the Headmaster nodded. “Yes. This will work. I’ve been meaning to ask Professor Snape to provide you with more in-depth training, Mr. Potter. This…possession is a step in that direction.”

Snape’s posture straightened, his expression turning wary. “Headmaster.”

“We spoke of this, Severus,” Dumbledore said. “It is time.”

Harry had no idea what the professors were discussing, but he understood that he would be in Snape’s presence more. The gold flashed in the professor’s aura and Harry focused on it. Maybe he could get the gold to shine more and maybe he could pull some more colors out of the blackness. But the gold, he would focus on that first.