Time seemed to pass by slower than the snail on its way to the shadows of the nearest bush, in search for relieve from the burning heat. Harry Potter lay on his stomach on the freshly mown field of grass in front of number four Privet Drive. His head was propped up by his hands and he had a bored expression on his face.

It was almost halfway through the summer before the start of Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts and he had not yet heard much from his friends or the order. This irritated him tremendously because he was eager to leave his aunt and uncle's house, but found that he couldn't complain too much. Not after what happened at the end of last year.

He sighed and rolled on his back to watch the clear blue sky. Normally he could entertain himself with trying to imagine shapes in the clouds above him, but now there were none. It was just one of those perfect summer days in the perfect neighbourhood of Little Whinging where the perfect Dursley family lives. Harry was sick of the place and the impossibly long list of chores they made him complete each day. He was sick of having to hear Uncle Vernon's nasty remarks and Aunt Petunia's disapproving snorts. He was fed up with running from Dudley and his cronies and getting beat up by them more often than previous summers. But again, he shouldn't complain.

With a sigh he pushed himself off from the ground to stand up and went to put the lawn mower back in the shed. When he had secured the mower he went for the gardening tools for the next duty on the list. He trimmed the hedges and pulled out weeds from Aunt Petunia's flower garden. When he straightened his back to relieve it of a throbbing pain in the lower part, he heard his cousin shouting.

"Oi, Potter!" Harry saw Dudley raise one of his sausage-like arms from the other end of the sidewalk. He also saw that his cousin wasn't alone. He was flanked by his usual gang of followers, Piers and Dennis on his right side, Gordon and Malcolm on his left. Even though all the boys had grown significantly since last summer, Dudley was still the biggest of the group.

"Tending the gardens again, four-eyes?" one of Dudley's buddies asked loudly as the five of them came closer to the garden.

Harry chose to ignore them and went to look for more weeds.

"Shouldn't you at least greet us?" Dudley asked with a grin.

When Harry remained silent Dudley became angry. He put his large body in front of Harry to prevent him from continuing on the garden and crossed his arms, which made Harry wonder how he was able to do that considering the size of them. Harry looked up and glared at him but said nothing as he turned around to tend the hedges on the other side of the Dursley's garden.

"Why don't you come to the playground with us?"  one of the other boys, Malcolm, said with a threatening tone.

"Yeah, we could have so much fun," the tallest and thinnest, Dennis, said with a grin.

Harry knew where this was going and contemplated his course of action. He could just jump over the hedge and start running. That way there was a slight chance of escape. He could also run back into the house but then his uncle would probably send him straight back outside and then he would be surrounded. An even slighter chance of escape.

With an inward sigh he turned towards the gang, consciously dropping the gardening tools to the side to make sure they would not be in the way of his escape route.

"You know, with your size, it would be best not to hang around the playground too much. You don't want people to call you lazy Dud now, would you?"

Harry could almost see the steam leave his Dudley's ears and stepped back just in time to dodge his sausage fingers trying to grab the front of his shirt.

"Get him Big D!"

That was his cue. With the agility of an athlete Harry jumped over the hedge and ran towards the other end of the street. He was quickly followed by the group even though Dudley and another heavy boy fell behind rather quickly. Only three to outrun now. Harry sped up towards the small mall that was only a few blocks away. There must be enough people around there to scare his followers enough to abandon their pursuit.

He felt his heartbeat quicken as the mall came in sight and ran towards the nearest entrance, convinced that he had escaped yet another round of "Pummel Harry". When he was only a couple of yards away he was suddenly and forcefully shoved against his side and this resulted in a rough landing on the pavement, scraping his knee and palms. He looked up and saw the slightly more muscled member of Dudley's group towering over him and a quick glance to the right told Harry that the others were quickly closing in. Without thinking twice, Harry sprung up and began running again, just escaping the thug's attempt to grasp him.

Why were there no people around to stop them? He blindly ran into an alley that separated the mall from the apartment building next to it. His heart sank as he realised the alley had a dead end. He turned back to where he came from but his pursuers where already blocking the exit. Harry looked over his shoulder to see whether he could climb over the wall but that seemed to be impossible. He was panting for breath while slowly backing away from the intimidating group, considering all his options of escape.

He could try to dash for the sides in the hope to surprise them with his speed, but that was very unlikely considering the width of the alley. Fighting back was out of the question as well. There were three of them, soon five, and Harry was on his own. Not to mention the fact that he was a bit smaller than them and had probably less brute strength. Using his wand was a viable idea, apart from the problem of his opponents being muggles and the risk of expulsion for underage use of magic outside of school.

But all these options were negated when Harry was forcefully shoved and pinned against the wall on the side of the alley. The muscled one held his right arm firmly while a smaller brown haired boy held his left one. Dudley and the other whale had caught up with them and where now standing in front of Harry, panting heavily but looking very proud of themselves. Harry glared at them and tried to shake the other two off.

"We... got you now... Potter", Dudley said in between heavy breaths. His face was as red as a tomato from the sudden exercise and thick drops of sweat rolled down the sides of his head.

"Not used to actually moving those legs of yours, are you?", Harry said mockingly while trying to get his racing heartbeat under control. Since he couldn't possibly get away he felt resigned. He had obviously lost this round.

Which wasn't always the case, usually he managed to out-run Dudley and his cronies. Having been subjected to many games of "Harry-Hunting" over the years, he knew the best hiding spots in the neighbourhood. Dudley never was smart enough to find out what they were, being forced to forfeit the game. Unfortunately this also often resulted in a beating from his uncle or a slap from his aunt, as they hated it when their sweet "Dudderkins" was unhappy. Not that Dudley told them that he was out trying to beat the crap out of Harry. He would conjure up a lie about how Harry had thrown a stone or a handful of sand in his direction, whining that he couldn't understand how mean Harry could be to someone so loyal and kind as himself. It never mattered what Harry said in his defence, it was his word against their only son and they would always choose his side. So Harry learned a long time ago to stop trying to persuade them otherwise.

Because his thoughts were elsewhere, Harry did not see the first punch coming.

Dudley had thrown his fist in Harry's stomach, which made him double over and knocked the air out of his lungs. He didn't have time to recover before the next blow came to the side of his head.

Malcolm and Gordon heaved him upright again and one of them grabbed a fistful of his hair to yank his head up to face Dudley.

"That will teach you not to mess with us," Dudley spat in his face furiously. He probably didn't appreciate losing face with his buddies and was bound to get their respect back.

"You're just a freak, a lowlife. You are nothing, you hear me? Nothing compared to us!" He emphasized his exclamations with a few more punches in Harry's gut.

Next thing Harry knew, Malcolm and Gordon let his arms go and he fell to the ground on hands and knees. Dennis and Piers came in to kick him in the side so he fell over and rolled on his back. Then Dudley came in view, towering menacingly over him with his large body. Harry was shocked to find that his vision had become a little blurry.

"You are worthless. You will never be better than us. You will never be a hero. You're guilty of destroying everyone around you. Murderer..."

Harry's eyes widened at his last words. Dudley lifted his heavy leg to give Harry one last kick, but halted when Piers shrieked behind him.

"What in the world is that?!" Piers stared wide-eyed at the other end of the alley, one arm outstretched to point to a creature-like appearance.

Harry turned his head and saw something that reminded him a bit of a Patronus charm, only this one was not silver and translucent. It emanated darkness and gave him the same chill that a dementor would have. Was this Dark Magic? Through his blurry vision he tried to make out the shape of the being, and his heart struck in his throat as he thought he saw... a doe? But that couldn't be right... Mum?

Before he had a chance to take a closer look, the appearance was set aflame. Dark and reddish flames emanated from the shape though no warmth could be felt from them. Then it galloped towards the group swiftly, seemingly on ramming course. Dudley and his gang screamed in fear, trying to get away even though there was no escape. Harry only had a few seconds in which he threw his arm up to protect his head from impact.

It didn't matter because seconds later the appearance seemed to have passed right through them, like smoke, and disappeared. It did the trick for Harry's predicament though. As he lifted his arm carefully he saw Dudley and his gang fearfully pushing and shoving each other to get out of the ally as fast as possible, leaving Harry behind on the ground.

Harry rolled back to look at the wall behind him and frowned when he saw nothing but untarnished bricks. What the hell was that thing?

With a groan he pushed himself to sit up and lean his back and head against the wall and let his thoughts run back to the events. Though he was used to getting beaten up by Dudley, this was something else. Where had that Patronus-like shape come from? The alley and beyond was deserted as far as he could tell. And what had Dudley said to him right before that?

Murderer...

Dudley would never say something like that, would not know how much Harry felt it applied to him. Come to think of it, his last words did sound a little more high-pitched than usual...

Harry shook his head. That was impossible. Maybe the blow to his head made him see and hear things that weren't actually there. As his thoughts fell back to his injuries he became aware of a throbbing sensation on the side of his head. He brought a slightly shaking hand up to his cheekbone and prodded the sensitive skin. With a hiss he realised his skin was swollen and, judging by the painful sensation, would probably leave a huge bruise.

He let out a puff of air which he didn't realise he had been holding and tried to release the tension in his shoulders. He gingerly felt around his side, prodding his ribs were the kicks had landed, and was glad to find out they only felt a bit tender so he expected there was no serious damage to them.

He stayed seated against the brick wall, which was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, until the blurry feeling in his head had passed and he felt confident that he would be able to walk without trouble.

He slowly got up, keeping one hand on the wall to steady himself and waited for the dizzy spell that was sure to come. Luckily it didn't and he was pleased to find he was able to stand firmly on the ground without the support of the alley wall. Deciding he'd better get out of there before other punks would show up and take him on a second round, he slowly but surely made his way out.

As he left the semi-dark alley and stepped back into the shopping mall area, squinting his eyes against the sunlight, he heard a voice from his left.

"Are you alright, son?"

Harry turned towards the voice and saw a rather old man with a flat cap on his head, holding a shopping bag full of groceries. It struck Harry that his eyes were expectant and full of pity. He cleared a lump in his throat before replying.

"I'm fine."

"Dad, what are you doing?" A middle-aged woman jogged swiftly towards the old man, and took his bag from his hands. She had a kind face and reminded Harry a little of Molly Weasley, but her brows were pulled in an angry frown. Harry was surprised to find anger and fear in her eyes.

She took a disapproving look at Harry before pulling the man away from him, an arm draped protectively around his back. Harry frowned at this confusing behaviour but realisation dawned after he heard her next words spoken to the old man in a hushed voice.

"You should stay away from young thugs like that, Dad. You never know what they might do to you and you are unable to defend yourself."

Harry stared after them. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised. After all, he probably did look like a wanted criminal, with his dirty oversized clothes, untamed hair and bruised skin. Even so, he felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice-cold water over his head at the sight of that angry and fearful look. A look that screamed judgement and disgust, pity and disappointment all in one. Feelings he had tried all summer to suppress with all his might, came crashing down upon him and his lungs suddenly felt devoid of air.

His feet started moving, but he did not register where they went. At least he felt confident that his feet would know where to go. He wandered around the neighbourhood, many different thoughts and memories swirling in his head. Even though he had promised himself not to pay any attention to them all summer, or better yet, never again, he could not stop the train of thoughts racing through his mind.

That small snippet of conversation had reminded him of who he felt he was, deep inside. But even before that, when he had thought Dudley had called him a murderer. He was exactly that, nothing more. The face of Sirius Black appeared in his mind's eye, and his chest clenched with unfathomable guilt for the death of his godfather. He felt a physical pain in his heart, as if someone had stabbed it with a knife. His feet started running, trying in vain to out-run the all encompassing guilt he felt burning inside.

It was not until he felt the floor beneath his feet sink slightly that he looked op and registered where he was. He had ended up in the playground just a couple of blocks away from the Dursley residence. It was thankfully deserted and Harry went to sit on one of the swings to gather his thoughts. The sun already hung low in the sky, so it must be getting dark soon. Harry also realised that dinnertime had probably come and gone as well, but couldn't bring himself to care. He never was a regular attendant at the Dursleys' dinner table anyway.

He sat down, closed his eyes and let the breeze of the cooling summers day calm him down. He had not had a meltdown like this since he wrecked Albus Dumbledore's office at the end of the school year. He had also not cried since that day either. He took pride in that fact, made him feel like he was able to appear strong on the outside and go on with his life as if the last couple of weeks had not happened at all. But he knew he couldn't out-run these feelings indefinitely. Today had been an example of that.

He had just felt depressed and alone, wishing with all his heart that he could have done things differently. That he could turn back time to just be with Sirius, to see his smile once more, feel his arm around his shoulders and to hear his confident voice telling him everything would be okay. And he would feel safe and loved and at peace. Even with the sharp sword of the prophecy hanging above  him, waiting for the right moment to chop his head clean off, he would feel content. Because he knew that friends, and especially family, would get him through everything. Even if it meant he himself had to die, he would gladly do it knowing they would be alive and happy, having made happy memories with Harry while he was alive. He knew he would still run headlong into raging fires for Hermione and Ron for instance, knew that he would not hesitate for even a second. But he also knew that he needed someone, an adult, a father figure, a family of his own to help quell the fear and desperation that welled within him at the prospect. He did not exactly fear death, he figured, but he feared loneliness and the feeling of not belonging anywhere. He feared he would look back at his short life and see only an outcast, someone whose story was not relevant enough to be told. He was afraid of dying alone, on a cold ground at Voldemort's feet, having no one to hold his hand and whisper in his ear that he had done well, that he was enough.

Harry longed to have someone to share that intense fear with, a fear that he had buried somewhere deep inside him and would probably take with him to his grave. Even though Ron and Hermione where the best friends he could ever wish for, he could not bring himself to share everything on his mind with them. He could just imagine their looks of anguish, hopelessness and pity. And he wouldn't be able to bear their pity or sorrow because of him. He would rather they remember the good times they had together.

Another person he would have shared his inner thoughts with instead of Sirius would be Remus. But at the thought of his former professor his chest clenched again with that familiar feeling of guilt. He had not seen Remus since the day Sirius died, as he had been held by the man in an attempt to prevent Harry from going after Bellatrix Lestrange. Sirius was the only friend Remus had left in this world and Harry had taken him from him. He would not be able to look at the anger and despair in Remus' eyes.

Had he not been so stupid to run to the ministry based on a vision, of which he had KNOWN to be questionable, Sirius would have lived. He would probably have spent this summer with him, staying up late, playing games and have long conversations while enjoying a nice cold butterbeer. Why must life be so unfair?

Thinking of the vision Voldemort had sent him, brought back unpleasant memories. Even though it was fake, it had felt so real to him at the time. The fear and despair were real to him. Why had the only adult that he had desperately confided in, not seen that and helped him? Severus Snape always boasted about his ability to see right through someone, yet choose to ignore Harry when his plea for help was most obvious. Once again he had let his hatred for Harry's father dominate his actions, and Sirius had to pay the price for that.

Harry kicked a nearby stone into the bushes that surrounded the playground. It felt good to let anger take over him. It was familiar and it made him feel more in control than the utter hopelessness that other feelings brought up.

He looked up and realised that he had sat brooding for quite some time, as the sun had set and it had grown dark. The Dursleys would probably be unhappy about that, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his faded jeans and took off towards his summer residence. 

When Harry arrived at the house he wasn't surprised to see the curtains drawn and the flickering of light coming around the edges. The Dursleys were obviously watching TV again, probably one of those talk shows that made Harry's toes curl. He was in luck, for he might be able to sneak in unnoticed when their attention was on the screen.

He slipped in quietly, making sure to close the front door as softly as possible behind him. The door to the living room was slightly ajar, and the noise that came from within confirmed that a talk show was on. Then he made his way over to the stairs. He sighed with relief. He had almost made it to his room without having to endure a confrontation with his aunt and uncle. Almost...

"Boy! Get your ass over here!"

Harry grimaced. Just my luck.

He slowly made his way over to the living room, and pushed the door open with trepidation. Inside he found his aunt on the couch and his uncle on his usual large chair, looking for all the world like a king about to execute his subordinate. Dudley was nowhere to be found. He was probably sleeping up in his room. What time was it anyway?

"You have hurt my family for the last time, you hear me?" his uncle began.

For a moment Harry was confused. He had come home late, how did that hurt anybody? But he knew better than to voice this question as he saw his uncle's face become red.

"Dudley told us what happened this afternoon. Frankly, I don't even know what you're doing back here. If you had any remorse for what you did you would not have stepped in our home again," his aunt said, the anger in her voice barely contained.

At her words Harry felt his own anger return as well. Of course Dudley had told his version of the events.

"Look, I don't know what Dudley told you, but I swear I didn't do anything to him. In fact, if he hadn't chased me down to-"

"How dare you blame my son for what YOU did, you ungrateful bastard!" His uncle jumped up from his chair with admirable agility for someone his size and took two steps in Harry's direction. Harry forced himself to remain where he was, looking up defiantly and squaring his shoulders. It was bad enough that he was unable to defend himself against the muggles his own age, he would refuse to back away from this one.

"We took you into our home, gave you clothes, a room of your own, we fed you!" Uncle Vernon spat. "And this is how you repay us? You good-for-nothing brat, I should've left you to freeze to death on our doorstep!"

"Then why didn't you? Why did you take me in when you knew you would never be able to raise me as your own? You act like you took me in out of the goodness of your heart, when you have only managed to treat me like trash all my life! You only had use for me as your punching bag!"

SMACK!

He really should've seen it coming, but he was still shocked to feel his uncle's fist connect with his jaw. In the corner of his eye he saw aunt Petunia walk away from them towards the kitchen, something she usually did when things between uncle Vernon and Harry became physical. Harry figured it would make her feel better about herself if she just turned a blind eye to it all.

Harry's attention was brought back to his uncle however, when he grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pushed him hard against the wall with the most hideous wallpaper in the house. Uncle Vernon's face became a deep shade of purple and for a crazy split-second Harry thought his uncle was choking right in front of him. He knew of course that it was his barely contained anger that brought on this coloured appearance.

"You must have a death wish, boy! First you use your freaky stuff on my son, scarring him for life, and now you think you can talk back to me? You're right, I wish you had never been born, I wish that you would not have been burdened on my family. You have hurt us long enough with your existence. FREAK!"

Uncle Vernon gave him a shake against the wall for good measure, before closing his pudgy fingers around Harry's arm in a vice-like grip and pulling him towards the hall and up the stairs. He threw him into Dudley's second bedroom and Harry lost his balance and fell unceremoniously on the floor. Glancing back he saw his uncle's furious face just before the door was slammed shut. For all the fear they had that neighbours might notice things, they sure did their best to make themselves heard as loudly as possible.

Harry pushed himself up with a groan, his body protesting against the movement, and made his way to his bed. He sat down on it with an angry huff. Yes, he was in pain, but holding on to this anger made it bearable and felt like the only lifeline he had left. He was sick of this. Sick of not being wanted, sick of being a burden to everyone around him. He longed to be a normal teenager, to only have to worry about schoolwork and girlfriends. But unfortunately life had different plans for him.

Suddenly the door was opened again and this time it was aunt Petunia. Without a word she threw a bag of frozen peas on the bed next to him. Harry looked up at her with confusion.

"For your face. We don't want the neighbours to see your distasteful appearance," she snapped at him. A little late for that Harry thought, but kept his mouth firmly shut. He fleetingly wondered if she feared being accused of child abuse by the authorities more than the opinions of the neighbours on their non-normalcy. Probably not. And he was definitely not an abused child either.

"You are to leave first thing in the morning."

Harry's head shot up.

"You mean... leave the house?"

Aunt Petunia sniffed disdainfully at his tone. "Yes, leave the house. And don't count on ever coming back here. There is no place for you here and we will not allow you to disrupt our lives any longer."

With that she turned and left the room, closing the door behind her with a firm finality.

Harry didn't know how long he sat there gaping at the door. Shit... Why did he not keep his mouth shut like he had learnt to do a long time ago? Why did he have to provoke them?

A small part of Harry actually felt a weight lift from his shoulders at the thought that he had fought back, that he had made his words count for once. He was not the small and fragile little kid they had reluctantly taken into their home anymore. He would be sixteen in just two days. Just one more year until he was of age by wizarding standards, and he could make decisions for himself. Including living arrangements.

He sighed and picked up the bag of peas and softly put it to his face. The ice-cold feeling helped to soothe the pain in his swollen jaw as well as his nerves at the prospect of having to leave tomorrow morning.

He would figure it out, he told himself. No need to worry himself sick over things he had no control over currently. He would find an answer to this problem in the morning.

He lay down on the bed, fully clothed and still holding the bag of peas to his face. He let his thoughts flow away, leaving his mind empty as if he was a master Occlumens. Snape would be proud of that. Ha, as if.

He would figure it all out. Tomorrow.

---

Harry woke up with a headache and heard a loud thud just outside his bedroom door. He sat up slowly to prevent any dizziness and glanced warily at the door. He remembered last night and felt a renewed sense of trepidation at the situation he had got himself into. Well, no time like the present.

He got up and took his backpack from under the desk and began to pack the few belongings he had in the room. Clothes from the wardrobe, some paper and a pen (for his parchment and quills were still in his trunk downstairs). He also took the now defrosted peas for good measure. He decided to leave Hedwig's cage behind, since he couldn't use magic to shrink it and it was far to big and heavy to carry around as it was. Hedwig didn't even like cages and it was only ever used in summers with the Dursleys. Besides, he took pleasure in the thought that the Dursleys would have to remove it themselves. He grinned as he imagined the disgusted look on aunt Petunia's face at having to touch the "vile thing".

He kind of wished Hedwig was with him now and not at Ron's house where he had send his last letter to, so he would not feel as alone. And it would give him the opportunity to inform someone of his current predicament. He sighed. Well, nothing could be done about that now.

When he was done packing he took a last look around the room. He had no sentimental feeling towards it whatsoever, but it was a strange feeling that he would not ever see it again. Even though it was sparse, it had been his only refuge during the long summers with his relatives. And the only actual room with a bed he ever had, considering that he spent his child years in the cupboard under the stairs.

He closed the door behind him and went downstairs where he was surprised to find his trunk waiting for him in the hall. He looked at the other end of the hall and saw his aunt, uncle and cousin in the door opening to the living room, glaring daggers at him.

He wondered if he should say something, some parting words to close off the time he spent under their roof. Should he apologize for the inconvenience he had caused? Should he part with a resentful comment on how bad they had treated him? Should he thank them for giving him a roof over his head?

But looking at them now he realised that he didn't want to say anything. These people would not hear it, so why waste his breath? He pitied them for their short-sightedness and their inability to look beyond their own pride and arrogance. How things could have been different if aunt Petunia had taken him in lovingly, him being the only thing left in this world that was her sister's. How he had longed for them to sit with him at the dinner table, eating a hot bowl of soup and bring up memories of his mother, to hear what her life was like before she was taken from them. How he wished, as a small child, to be held when he had woken up from a nightmare in his dark cupboard, or for a proud pat on the back when he got home with good grades, or to just have someone care for him and be concerned for him if he had scraped a knee. Those were the things a real family would do, or at least he imagined they were. And they had not been family in the real sense. They shared blood. Nothing more.

And with that final, depressing thought, he grabbed the handle of his trunk and stepped out the front door, letting it fall shut behind him, without looking back.

He realised it was still very early in the morning. Even the birds had not woken yet. He wondered what his next move should be. Well, first things first.

He walked out of the Dursley's front garden and crossed the street where he would be a little more concealed by the trees and bushes that grew there. He opened his trunk and took out his wand. It felt so good to have it in his hands again, like a part of him that was lost had been found back. He also swapped some of the clothes in his backpack for robes and his invisibility cloak, just to be certain it was within reach if needed. Last he retrieved a pouch with some sickles and galleons in it.

This brought an idea to mind. He could take the Knight Bus with this money. It only cost eleven sickles if he remembered correctly. But where would he go? The Leaky Cauldron in London, like he did last time, would probably be too dangerous. Dark wizards could possibly be on the look-out for him around Diagon Alley and muggle London.

Grimmauld place was another option, although he wasn't sure exactly where it was since he had only been apparated there before. And also, he wasn't sure if he was ready to face that house yet, now that Sirius did not walk the halls there. This brought back some sad memories and he shook his head to try and clear it. Not Grimmauld Place then.

Another idea sprung to mind, one which lifted his spirits considerably. Deciding to go with that and take it from there, he stuck his wand hand in the air and immediately felt a rush of air pass him as the Knight Bus stopped right in front of him.

In the door opening appeared Stan Shunpike and he looked just as shabby as he did last time Harry saw him.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. My name is Stan Shunpike and I will be your conductor this morning. Please state your destination,  we can take you anywhere you want to go."

"I would like to go to Ottery St. Catchpole, please," Harry said looking up at him.

"Ottery St. Catchpole it is then, that will be eleven sickles, please take a seat and grab hold of something sturdy".

Harry paid for the ticket and took a seat in the back of the deserted bus, for which he was grateful. The ride to Ottery St. Catchpole thankfully wasn't as bumpy as his trip to London was last time, because there were no narrow streets and sharp turns to go through. Even though the Knight Bus was magically fast, it still took quite some time to get to their destination. Harry spent this time looking out the window, but soon grew dizzy from the fast passing landscape and choose to close his eyes and relax a little. His body still ached from the previous day and he figured it would be quite some time until he was back to normal.

Just as he had drifted off into a light doze, the brakes of the bus screeched and they came to an abrupt halt. Harry had fallen off his seat and looked up in panic as he rubbed his sore butt.

"This stop is Ottery St. Catchpole, thank you for travelling with the Knight Bus, it was our pleasure, we hope to see you again. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I wish you a good day," Stan called from the front of the bus lazily.

Harry lifted an eyebrow at this, then shrugged, grabbed his things and stepped out of the bus. Just as he turned around to say his thanks, Stan's eyes grew large as he looked him up and down.

"Hey, I know you!" he turned his head towards the driver and continued, "Hey Ernie, look, its Nev-"

But the bus had sped away before Stan could finish his sentence, probably off to help another wizard in need. He grinned, feeling much lighter than he had all summer.

He took off in the direction of the Burrow, looking forward to seeing his friends again. After a thirty minute walk, slowed down by the heavy trunk he carried with him, he arrived at the Burrow. He smiled, suddenly feeling like was home. A nagging thought at the back of his mind told him that this was not his home, and that the people in it were not his family, but he managed to shake it off before it could dampen his mood.

He knocked on the door and waited for a response. He heard a lot of stumbling sounds from inside the house, as if multiple people were trying to get to the door first. Then it flew open and he came face to face with Mrs. Weasley, whose mouth opened in shock.

"Harry?"

"Hi, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said sheepishly.

"Harry!" Two redheaded people shot past Mrs. Weasley and flew into his arms. Ginny giving him a fierce hug and Ron encompassed both of them in his long arms.

Then Mrs. Weasley seemed to come out of her stupor and waved her children away from Harry to give him a hug of her own.

"What are you doing here Harry? Not that I'm not glad to see you, dear," She ended the hug and held him at arm's length, taking a good look at him. Harry saw the alarm in her eyes, and it looked like she wanted to say more but stopped herself.

"Well, let's just get you settled inside first. You must be hungry so I will cook something up for you," she smiled at him but it did not reach her eyes. She turned and lead the way into the kitchen.

Ron helped him carry his trunk inside, while Ginny looked at Harry's face with the same look her mother gave him.

"What happened to your face Harry?"  she asked.

"Oh, err... I took the Knight Bus to get here," Harry replied.

Ron made a face. "That thing should not be allowed to transport anyone anywhere. You could seriously break bones just taking it two blocks around the neighbourhood." 

Harry could tell that Ron was easy enough to convince but Ginny wasn't. She narrowed her eyes but refrained from commenting any further on the subject. They followed Mrs. Weasley inside.

After they put all Harry's stuff in Ron's room, they went down to the kitchen, where the smell of baked eggs and sausage made Harry's mouth water. They settled down at the table and Mrs. Weasley came over to hand him a plate and some bread rolls.

"Thank you Mrs. Weasley", Harry said gratefully and took the plate from her.

He dove in, relishing the flavours of the home-cooked food and enjoying the company of those he loved. Harry listened to Ron and Ginny, who talked about all the things they had done so far this summer, which included helping Mrs. Weasley out with the vegetable garden, playing Quidditch in the yard whenever Fred and George where at the Burrow and sneaking out at night to nick some chocolate pudding from the kitchen. At that last confession, Mrs. Weasley swat at their heads but her lips were curled up in a playful smile. How different it was from when Harry tried to sneak food at the Dursleys. They would have a fit and lock him up in his room for a week if they found out. Of course, Harry had learned to be stealthy when nicking food over the years, so he managed to avoid getting caught anymore. Harry smiled at the knowledge that he wasn't going back there, ever. Even though he still had to figure out what to do about the first month of next year's summer. He shoved that thought away to mull over later. At this moment he felt full and content so he wanted to savour this happy feeling. Ginny's voice brought his attention back to his friends.

"It's really weird though, for Ron and I to be the only ones left in the house. It's so quiet around here without Fred, George and the others."

"Oh stop it Gin, you were always complaining about us getting into your hair and you not having enough space for yourself as the only girl," Ron replied teasingly.

Ginny wacked him on the head playfully. "I just can't wait for you to be gone too, I'll have you know. I'll have the whole house to myself."

"Who says I'm ever going to move? I have no need for my own place, I'm fine with staying here. Besides, Harry will be spending his time here as well so you'll be outnumbered again," Ron turned to him, "right Harry?"

Harry glanced at Mrs. Weasley. "Err... I..."

"Of course you are always welcome here dear, you are part of the family and we have more than enough space," Mrs. Weasley jumped in.

Harry smiled gratefully at her and felt his heart swell with love. This is what having a family feels like, he thought. He knew that this family wasn't truly his, and it would probably never feel exactly the same, but he was immensely grateful for their unconditional acceptance of him.

"Which brings me to the question of your arrival here, Harry," Mrs. Weasley continued, "I wasn't expecting to see you at all this summer."

Another lie was on Harry's lips, but the open, smiling faces of the Weasleys prompted him to stay close to the truth. He could trust them with it. He told them what had happened, leaving out the details of the fight with Dudley and the manhandling he had endured by his uncle. He would not burden them with that, and also shame prevented him from elaborating. He told them he got into trouble because Dudley thought he had used magic against him and his aunt and uncle were so shocked and furious that they kicked him out, indefinitely.

"This is the only place I felt I could go to, safely," Harry ended his explanation.

Mrs. Weasley looked angry, but Harry realised it was not directed at him. If she thought there was more to the story, she didn't comment on it.

"I see, Harry," she smiled gently at him. "I'm glad you came here then."

Harry smiled back at her.

"I do, however, have to inform Professor Dumbledore that you arrived here safe and sound."

Harry slowly nodded at her, before she briefly squeezed his shoulder and left the kitchen to make a fire call.

Harry didn't know how he felt about the headmaster. The last time he had seen him he had been so angry and lost and had smashed his whole office to smithereens. He still felt bitter towards the man, but his anger had cooled. Dumbledore had a war to win and had to play the game well, regardless of the pawns he needed to get to his goal. Harry was unable to understand this last year, had felt unfairly treated by being kept in the dark for so long and for which his godfather had paid the price. But after hearing the prophecy, and the key role he had to play in this war because of it, Harry could understand that sometimes things had to be sacrificed for the greater good. He had never seen weakness in Albus Dumbledore, but the tear he let roll down his cheek that day said enough. For all the power Dumbledore possessed, he was still human, and was burdened with this immensely difficult and heavy task, and many people's lives depended on his decisions. He couldn't stay angry with the man for that.

"So... are you all right, Harry?" Ginny asked tentatively with a concerned frown on her face.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry said automatically with a shrug. When he saw Ginny's concerned look he added, "It's just a bruise. No big deal."  His face broke in a gentle smile to reassure the red-haired girl.

"No, I mean are you all right about Sirius?"

It was just like Ginny to be this forward and direct. He often appreciated this perk of hers, it was refreshing to have someone, a girl, speak her mind openly and freely for a change. Especially as he was often clueless to what girls actually meant to say between the lines, like he was during his disastrous and short-lived romance with Cho Chang. But at this moment he could not help but feel cornered by her prompt question.

"I'm fine," he said curtly.

A silence ensued in which Ginny looked him directly in the eyes, giving Harry the feeling she was trying to read his mind. Ron sat like a statue on his seat, looking at his sister incredulously. The silence felt oppressive to Harry and the need to break it compelled him to elaborate.

"I mean, it's not... easy... by any means." He muttered. He really did not want to talk about it.

Then Ginny shifted in her seat and reached for his hand in a comforting gesture. Her bright brown eyes locked with his green ones and Harry was surprisingly unable to look away.

"You don't have to talk about it, Harry. Just know that when you do want to, we'll always be there to listen."

Harry gulped and blinked, not really knowing why those words affected him that much. He didn't want to talk about it, because there just wasn't anything to talk about. Not really... Yet Ginny's words suggested there was more to talk about and the fact that she let him figure it out on his own terms was deliberating.

She gave his hand a short squeeze before letting go and thankfully changing the subject to a much lighter one. Ron also seemed to unfreeze again and jumped in to help lighten the mood.

Harry, Ron and Ginny continued chatting for a little while longer until they heard a swishing sound from the adjacent room. Not long after that the form of Albus Dumbledore appeared in the doorway
looking powerful and gently at the same time with his magnificently coloured robes. Just behind him was Remus Lupin, who was dusting of his robes and looked just as dishevelled as Harry remembered him. Remus looked up an immediately sought out Harry's eyes. Harry gulped, not sure how Remus would feel about him after the events at the Department of Mysteries. Remus gave him a tentative smile before following Dumbledore further into the kitchen and broke eye contact to address Mrs. Weasley.

"Molly, so good to see you," he said, extending his hand to her politely.

Dumbledore greeted her as well and they exchanged pleasantries with each other for a short while before Dumbledore turned towards the other occupants in the room.

"A pleasure to see you all as well of course, though I must say I am surprised to see you here Harry" Albus looked at him over his half-moon glasses. He didn't seem angry really, but nevertheless Harry felt shame creep up at him. He knew that Dumbledore had not wanted him to leave the Dursleys this early, let alone indefinitely. He struggled to formulate a reply, but Dumbledore beat him to it.

"Fortunately, you have already spend a whole month at your aunt's house so I believe the blood wards have provided ample protection for now. I do wish you had contacted someone beforehand of your plan Harry and I trust you will do so in the future."

That was definitely a reprimand, Harry thought as he felt his cheeks heat up. He scoffed inwardly of the unfairness of it all. He hardly planned for all of this to happen and felt he had made the right choices within the available options. He opened his mouth to tell Dumbledore as much but the headmaster had turned his attention to Remus and was talking jovially again.

"Now that that's settled, I think you could best take Harry to Grimmauld Place per floo Remus. I have taken the necessary anti-tracking precautions to this floo connection."

Harry's head shot up at this in bewilderment, but he wasn't the first to voice his disbelief at Dumbledore's words.

"What? You can't mean for Harry to leave now can you? He's just arrived!" Ron told them. Mrs. Weasley looked as if she wanted to smack him for being disrespectful towards the headmaster.

Ginny stepped in as well, "Why can't Harry stay here the rest of the summer? He'll be surrounded by his friends here."

"He has a friend there as well," Remus said gently and understanding, with a small smile on his face. Harry swallowed, not going to admit to himself how much Remus" words had meant at that moment.

"I understand this may be difficult and unexpected," Dumbledore said calmly to the teens," and I wish I could tell you otherwise, but headquarters is more securely warded, unplottable and the safest place for Harry to be outside of Hogwarts."

Ron and Ginny looked ready to continue to argue this point in his stead, but Harry had already resigned himself to having to return to that house. He knew there was no point to try and persuade the headmaster in this. He sighed and stepped in.

"It's fine, guys," he saw their sceptical looks and added, "really, it is."

"But Harry, tomorrow is your birthday! Can you not stay for that at least?" Ron asked.

Harry started at the realisation that he had his birthday coming up as he had totally forgotten it. Not that is was a spectacular day for him in general anyway, but it might be enough to convince Dumbledore to let him stay at the Burrow just one more day. He looked at him questioningly, unable to temper his hopes.

For a moment he thought Dumbledore would decline, as he stroked his beard thoughtfully. But then he clapped his hands and smiled at them.

"Of course you can stay for your birthday, Harry. Remus will come and collect you tomorrow evening then." He nodded at Remus and Remus beamed at Harry before they both said their goodbyes and left.

He couldn't believe his luck as Ron clasped his hand on his shoulder and Ginny grinned at him. Mrs. Weasley, who had been uncharacteristically quiet the whole time looked happy and somewhat relieved as well, before she ushered them out of the kitchen.    

Harry, Ron and Ginny spent the rest of the afternoon outside, chattering and playing games. At some point Ron complained about the letters he had received from Hermione, saying that he couldn't believe she was going on and on about schoolwork and baffled at her exclamation that she missed Hogwarts" extensive library the most in summer.

"You've got to be kidding me, right?" Ron huffed while he lay on his back in the shadow of a large tree just at the edge of the garden. After they were done with their last game of Exploding Snap, they had decided to move out of the hot sun and planted themselves under the tree. "How could she even say she misses the library the most, it's one of the most boring places in the castle!"

Harry stifled a laugh, "Not for her, you know Hermione."

"Well, yeah but why must she pester me about homework in every single letter she sends me? Have you started yet Harry?"

Harry shook his head. Of course he couldn't have, with his school supplies locked up in his trunk and out of his reach. But he wasn't going to tell Ron that.

"Me neither, mate."

"Well that's probably why she tells you to in all her letters, Ron, because she knows you won't start on your own." Ginny teased him.

"Well, have you finished your homework then?"

"Of course I have," Ginny said smugly as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Ron crossed his arms as well, but let the topic of homework go. It never was his favourite subject and the longer they talked about it, the more it affected his mood.

"I'm just saying, of all the things she misses about school, she could have said she misses the common room, or the food in the Great Hall, or..."

"or you?" Ginny said slyly.

Ron's cheeks and ears reddened at that but he seemed to recover quickly.

"Well, yeah, I guess she could have said she misses her classmates. I know I do."

Ginny shot Harry a knowing look at that, but Harry was not entirely sure what it meant. Why would it matter to Ron what Hermione missed most about school?

Apparently done with the topic of Hermione, Ron changed it to talk about Quidditch, wondering aloud what kind of strategies all the teams would go for this year to win the cup. They sat there talking for a while longer, until they were called in for dinner.

In the kitchen Harry shook hands with Mr. Weasley, who had just come home from his work at the Ministry of Magic.

"Great to see you again, Harry. Molly informed me you will be staying until tomorrow."

Harry nodded. "Good to see you too sir."

They sat at the table and Harry was presented with Mrs. Weasley's amazing cooking skills once more and dove right in. While he ate and listened to the conversations going around, and occasionally taking part in them, he could hardly remember having ever felt more content. His day had started out so gloomily, but it turned out to be one of the best days he had had in a long time. Not that anything spectacular had happened to make it special, but it was the fact that he was surrounded by people who loved him, truly loved him, for who he was. Harry, not the boy who lived, not the so-called "saviour of the wizarding world". Just him and he felt immensely grateful for it. Of course the sunny day and the great food helped brighten his mood as well, he laughed inwardly.

And so, when the time had come to retire upstairs and climb in bed with a muttered "good night" to Ron, he was absolutely certain he would suffer no nightmares this night. With that heartening thought, he let his eyes fall closed and drifted off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

--

"Good thing I didn't send this off with Pig yet" Ron retrieved a parcel from his wardrobe and went up to Harry to sit on the end of his bed. Harry had woken up an hour or so ago, but he felt so peaceful and well-rested that he didn't want to get up yet. Instead he relaxed on his back, his hands under his head and listened to Ron's soft snoring until he woke up as well.

Ron handed Harry the parcel and said "Happy birthday, mate."

"Thanks Ron," Harry grinned at him and went to open his gift.

Inside was a small ball that kind of looked like a snitch, but is was silver instead of gold. He picked it up and held it up to his eye level to inspect more closely.

"It's a dummy snitch," Ron explained, "it is used for practicing, even or especially when you're not up in the air."

At this the silver snitch suddenly sprouted wings and flew across the bedroom to hover just above Ron's bed. Ron caught Harry's eye and waved at it with a grin.

Harry jumped up and tried to catch it, but his fingers only caught air as the silver snitch flew away quickly towards the closed bedroom door. Ron tried to catch it as well but only managed to crash his body against the door with a groan. Harry laughed at him, but saw his chance and intercepted the snitch on its way to the opposite end of the bedroom. They both ended up on the floor laughing at their own antics.

The door opened and Ginny appeared, looking at them with raised eyebrows.

"What is all this ruckus? It sounded like someone fell down the stairs"

Ron wiped tears from his eyes and pointed at the silver snitch in Harry's hand.

"Ah so you gave him his present then," Ginny said, "I'll get mine too."

She returned with a rectangular parcel which she handed to Harry with a smile. "Happy Birthday, Harry". 

He unwrapped it and saw that it was a dictate quill, one you could talk to and it would write out what you said. Harry smiled gratefully at Ginny.

"Thanks Ginny, this will come in handy."

Ginny beamed up at him and seemed to hesitate about something. Apparently having made up her mind she took a step forward and enveloped Harry in a hug.

"You're welcome, Harry," she said, though her voice was a bit muffled from the close proximity to his chest.

She let go without looking at him and went out the door. They heard her call from the hallway "oh, mom said breakfast's ready," before the sound of her footsteps died down.

Harry looked at Ron questioningly, but Ron just shrugged his shoulders.

"Told you she was mental."

Downstairs Harry was met with the smell of breakfast and immediately felt his mouth water. When he entered the kitchen Mrs. Weasley came at him and gave him a motherly hug.

"Happy birthday, dear," she said as she let go and tussled his hair affectionately.

Mr. Weasley clasped him on his back and congratulated him as well, before they all sat down and had breakfast together.

Later that day Fred and George arrived and they had brought a box of products from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes that kept them entertained all afternoon. Harry couldn't remember having laughed so hard in a long time, as Ron walked around with donkey ears after having eaten one of the twins" selection of chocolates. It was even funnier when they went out in the garden to play Quidditch together and Ron's ears flapped in the wind.

At some point during the day an owl brought him a present and a letter from Hermione, in which she said she was sorry she could not be there as well but wishing him the happiest of birthdays. Unsurprisingly, the parcel contained a book but he was grateful for it and immediately wrote her a reply.

After dinner, which was delicious as always, they settled down around the hearth in the sitting room. Ron, Harry, Fred and George sat on the couches, while Mrs. Weasley sat in an armchair braiding Ginny's hair who sat on the floor in front of her.

Mr. Weasley came in with a birthday cake and made Harry blow out the candles before handing everyone a piece.

Harry felt so happy at that moment, surrounded by his friends and eating an actual birthday cake that was made especially for him. It was definitely the best birthday he had ever had. He felt that nothing would be able to ruin that happy feeling.

He was wrong. So wrong.

The hearth flared alive and Harry looked up, expecting to see Remus step out to join them. Instead he saw long, pitch-black robes, long black hair and dark eyes that took in the room with a scowl.

"Severus!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed as he stood up in surprise.

"Where's Remus?" Harry dared to ask after he had overcome his initial shock of seeing the Potions Master instead of his werewolf friend.

Snape glared at him.

"Lupin", he drawled out, "is otherwise engaged."

"What does that mean?" Harry asked boldly, not wanting to let his voice reveal the worry he felt for Remus. Did something happen? He couldn't have gone on a mission right? Not after Dumbledore ordered him to pick Harry up the next day.

"It means, Potter, that he is presently unable to accompany you to headquarters, which means that this dreadful task, regrettably, falls upon me." Snape sneered at him, daring him to ask any more stupid questions.

Harry wanted to reply that this was not at all an answer to his question, but remained silent as Mr. Weasley and Snape conversed quietly with one another. Mrs. Weasley nudged him to go and get his stuff.

Ron followed him upstairs, fuming for his friend.

"Just what is his problem? Dumbledore specifically said Remus would pick you up. What is that old bat doing in here?"

"I dunno," Harry replied as he picked up yesterdays" clothes from the unmade bed. "You don't think something happened to Remus, do you?"

Ron looked up and frowned, not having thought of that possibility. He shook his head after a few seconds.

"Nah, Remus is though, he can handle himself. Besides, he probably had some inane business to attend to. No way Dumbledore could have sent him on a mission between last night and now."

Harry nodded at that, feeling a little relieved. Yeah, of course Remus would be fine. Nothing to worry about.

He finished packing and Ron helped him to get his trunk downstairs. They met Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen and she shrunk Harry's trunk for him. Harry was grateful for this as he couldn't imagine having to ask Snape to do it for him. He put his shrunken trunk in the pocket of his jeans before turning to Mrs. Weasley.

"Thanks Mrs. Weasley, for everything."

"Oh nonsense, Harry," she said as she enveloped him in a big hug, "It's no bother at all."

Harry smiled at her as she let go of him and turned to Ron and Ginny.

"I wish you could stay, Harry," Ron said.

"Yeah, me too," Harry replied and tried to lighten the mood, "Just promise to write to me!"

"Count on that, mate. We still have Slytherin's tactic to speculate about!"

Ginny said nothing but smiled sadly at him.

They went to the sitting room where Mr. Weasley held a leftover piece of birthday cake loosely in his hand, looking a bit defeated. Harry imagined he had offered it to Snape, but this brought up such a weird scene in his mind that he had to stifle a laugh. Snape turned to him as he came forward.

"Are you quite finished here? Unlike you, I have much more valuable things to do with my time." Snape turned towards the fireplace without waiting for an answer and held out the floo powder.

"You first, Potter."

Harry looked back at his friends and said his goodbyes. With a sigh he took a handful of floo powder and stated his destination, before stepping into the hearth and was engulfed in green flames.

--

Next thing he knew he stumbled into the dark drawing room of Grimmauld Place. He dusted the soot off his clothes and looked around, feelings of dread and sadness creeping up from his unconscious. The house was still as dark as ever, but this time there was also an ear deafening silence. No Sirius to come and greet him this time. The thought depressed him more than he was willing to admit to himself so he shook his head violently, hoping to rid it of the memories this way.

A moment later Snape also stepped out of the fireplace, albeit with a lot more grace than Harry had. Without acknowledging Harry, he swiftly walked out of the drawing room. With a shrug Harry went after him. It was time to get his question answered properly.

He found Snape in the kitchen. The man was pouring tea in a cup and had his back turned to him.

Harry cleared his throat to announce his presence, even though he was almost certain that Snape knew he was there already. The man was uncomfortably perceptive.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on with Remus, now?" Harry said. When Snape threw him a deadly glare over his shoulder he quickly added "sir?"

"No, Potter," Snape simply said as he added something to his tea that Harry couldn't see. He didn't think Snape would be one for sugary drinks.

"Why not? Don't you think I have a right to know?" Harry said heatedly, annoyed that all the adults in his life somehow shared the same mission of not telling him anything.

"I do not see any reason to. What right, pray tell, do you believe to have?"

"Remus is my..." Harry faltered. What was Remus exactly? His thoughts returned to the night before.
"Friend. He is my friend and I have the right to know if something bad happened to him."

Snape finally turned around and sneered at him.

"I do not qualify your relationship to the werewolf as important enough to reveal to you any vital Order information. Especially as that information might fall into the wrong hands," Snape said and strode towards the door where Harry stood, tea cup in hand. He stopped just outside the door, next to Harry who didn't move an inch. With a look of loathing he said over his shoulder "After all, one never knows what a child such as yourself would do with that information. One might even consider it a risk for the lives of others." 

With that he left, robes billowing after him.

Harry felt as if someone had struck him in the face. He thought he actually felt the throbbing of his cheek from yesterday's blow. He slid down the kitchen wall and sat down on the floor, head bowed.

He tried to find fault in Snape's words, tried to find something to cling to that would keep the anguish at bay. But there really wasn't anything now, was there? It all rang true. He had been careless with the information he had last term, even though it was fake information. He should have gone about it differently. He should have informed an adult and trusted them to...

But he had done just that, right? He had informed Snape of the vision. And even though it was a cryptic message, due to the presence of Dolores Umbridge, he knew Snape must have understood him perfectly. Why had Snape not done more? Why did Snape not go after him to help out if he was on the Order's side. He ignored the nagging feeling in the back of his mind telling him that it was all still his responsibility and his choice to go to London and put all of his friends in danger. And ultimately caused the death of his godfather...  No, it felt good to be angry at Snape. It would focus his thoughts and helped not to let guilt overwhelm him. Yes, Snape was to blame for a large part of it. And Harry would be angry at him for it.

With his jumbled thoughts finally in order, he stood up and went to the bedroom that he and Ron had occupied last summer. He was spent and wanted nothing more than flop down on his bed and drift off into nothingness.

When he sat down on the bed he felt something poke him. He shoved his hand in his pocket and took out his shrunken trunk. He had forgotten about it and now felt stupid at the belated realisation. Nothing I can do about that now, he thought. He definitely was not going to Snape to ask for him to unshrink it. The thought to ask the vile man anything made him sick to his stomach.

Seeing as he was still underage and therefore not allowed to do any magic outside of school, he set the tiny trunk on his nightstand and lay down on the bed fully clothed. He took off his glasses and closed his eyes. He tried to ignore the crushing silence in the house as it reminded him of the last owner and he didn't want to feel that sadness anymore. He wanted that empty feeling of not having to care anymore. But he couldn't not care and it scared him.

With that last thought and a mental  image of Sirius whispering "Happy birthday" in his ear, he fell into a fitful sleep.     

Severus Snape was a man who valued the time he could spend on his own. Not a very sociable person in general, he particularly loathed having to waste his time on people who used "small-talk" as a way of communication or who were prone to ask stupid an inane questions. Nosy teenagers who could not keep their nose out things that were not their business at all were the worst sort of people. That was why Severus was currently sitting at his desk in one of the rooms at Grimmauld Place, looking terribly smug as he sipped his tea. He had managed to get Harry Potter, the bane of his existence, off of his high horse and put him in his place. Not that this was anywhere near a hard thing to do, and considering he had had a lot of practise over the past five years it wasn't an amazing victory either.

And he had meant what he had said to the brat. It was high time someone told him the hard and dark truth, instead of coddling the child to death. Literally, for if his rash behaviour was allowed to continue, the twerp would surely meet his untimely death sooner rather than later. That was why he had stepped in when he was on Order duty yesterday. He rather thought the brat deserved what came his way, but he found he couldn't stand by and let those obnoxious buffoons, that some people would call children, beat Potter to death. Because, Severus told himself, as much as he hated the spitting image of his old nemesis, he did want him to survive long enough to end this war. Oh yes, he knew of the prophecy, how could he not when he himself was the one who...

He quickly occluded to terminate this train of thoughts, lest it would bring back certain memories and feelings he had no intention of facing. Ever. Besides, feelings and emotions were a weakness and he couldn't afford to show any form of weakness to anyone. It would make the dangerous game he was playing, serving two masters on opposite ends of the war, impossible to maintain.

He set his cup down and stood to retrieve a couple of books on the Dark Arts and his journal, wanting to do something useful to occupy him. This summer he had devoted his time to do research for the Order. Reading through books of Dark and ancient magic, Potions, ritual magic and such, and marking interesting passages and noting down anything that might be useful to their cause. If they would not use it themselves, it never hurt to know about things your enemy might use against you. He had brought some books from Hogwarts" extensive library and a few from his own collection at Spinner's End, but Grimmauld Place held a surprisingly interesting assortment of volumes and scriptures as well. He was glad for it, for it made his reluctant stay at the old house of the Black family a little more bearable. 

It was a couple of hours into his work when he was suddenly startled out of his concentration. He stilled and listened closely for any sound out of the ordinary. For a while there was no sound at all, except for the soft crackling of the fire in the hearth. Severus did not stop to wonder if he had misheard, he prized himself on his excellent skills as a spy so there was no chance he would have been mistaken.

Then he heard it. A small whimper from somewhere in the house, that quickly grew to loud screams.

Potter!

With his wand out he swiftly ran out the door and went to Potter's room. The door was closed and showed no signs of being breached. He listened at the door but could only hear Potter's screams. He quickly twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open. To his relief there was no one else in the room except for Potter himself.

Potter lay in his bed, but he was tangled up in his sheets as he thrashed about, a shine of sweat on his forehead. Of course the brat was having a nightmare, Severus thought as he slowly walked up to the bed, lighting the lamp on the nightstand with a flick of his wand. In the illuminated room, Severus saw the bruise on the boy's face and made a mental note to himself to leave him a Bruise Balm. No one would accuse him of mistreating the boy.

"No! Not them! Please, I'll do anything!" Potter screamed in his sleep.

Severus looked sharply at the boy and heaved a sigh. This had gone on long enough. As much as he despised the brat, he valued the quietude of his evenings more.

"Potter! Wake up!"

--- 

In his dream Harry was sitting in a beautiful meadow, with an abundance of yellow flowers as far as the eyes could see. Sirius sat beside him and his friends were playing Quidditch a couple of yards away. They were all talking and laughing and it was all just so peaceful.

Harry beamed at Sirius.

"I'm so glad to be here with you, Sirius."

Sirius's smile faltered and he stood up.

"I gotta go, Harry," he said coolly and turned on his heel.

"No, Sirius, don't go! I miss you, I need you!"

"You should have thought of that before you brought death upon me," Sirius threw over his shoulder with a glare.

Suddenly the air grew dark and a veil appeared. Sirius walked right through it and Harry went to go after him.

But Bellatrix Lestrange appeared and held him back with a cackling laugh. Then she made him turn around and he saw his friends getting tortured by Death Eaters with masks.
"No! Not them! Please, I'll do anything" Harry shouted as he struggled against Bellatrix's grip on him.

Then Voldemort appeared, robes blowing in the wind and his evil, red eyes locked on Harry.

"I told you before Harry, love is a weakness. You will never win as long as you cling to love," and with that Voldemort raised his wand at Harry.

"Crucio!"

Harry felt the nightmare blissfully slip away as he fought to wake up.

"Potter, wake up!"

He finally became aware again as he lay painting and sweating on his bed entangled in his sheets. He opened his eyes and tried to get his breathing under control while thinking of something to say to his Potions professor.

Who, surprisingly, handed him his glasses.

He took them from him and put them on, glad to be able to see clearly as he did not feel comfortable with Snape in such close proximity while he was this vulnerable. He sat up and tried to relax his tense muscles. He took a deep breath and fumbled with his sheets.

"Sorry I woke you up, sir" he said not looking at Snape.

With a humph Snape turned on his heel and strode out of the room, still managing to look as menacing as ever even without his billowing robes on.

Harry figured it was for the best, he didn't feel up to another confrontation with the man as they had in the kitchen a couple of hours earlier. He disentangled himself from the sheets and swung his legs off the bed, his bare feet on the cold floor helped to ground himself and get rid of the last bit of panic the nightmare had brought on.

He had not had one this severe since the beginning of the summer, the first weeks with the Dursleys always cause for sleepless nights. He was sure Snape's spiteful remarks earlier were the cause of this one. That ugly, greasy, manipulative...

"Here."

Harry was startled out of his reverie when two vials were stuck under his nose. He looked up with a frown, as he had not noticed Snape's return. Snape mistook it for ignorance and sighed impatiently.

"This is a Calming Draught, Potter. Surely even you recognize a fourth year level potion?" He sneered. "And this is Dreamless Sleep potion. Take them."

Harry nodded and took the vial from him. Of course he recognized these potions, being far too familiar with them already. But he wasn't going to tell Snape that.

Without another word Snape swept out of the room. Harry quickly said "thank you, sir",  but wasn't sure if Snape had heard him.

He took his glasses off, switched off the light and only downed the Dreamless Sleep potion, looking forward to a nice, dreamless sleep.

---

The next morning Harry was surprised to find a jar of Bruise Balm on his nightstand. Shrugging off mental images of Snape sneaking into his room to put it there while he was asleep, he took the jar to the bathroom. His own image in the mirror looked tired and his skin was quite pale, making the bruise on the side of his face stand out in contrast. He gingerly rubbed some balm on it and it immediately looked and felt better.

He went downstairs and met Snape in the kitchen. The man was seated at the table with a steaming cup of tea, reading a newspaper. Harry was shocked to realise that it was not the Daily Prophet he was perusing, but a regular muggle newspaper. His mind grew curious but he refrained from asking why.

He took two steps further into the kitchen when Snape's voice halted him.

"Seeing as both of us will, regrettably, be spending the remainder of the summer here," Snape drawled without looking up from his newspaper, "a few rules will be in order."

Snape gestured the chair across from him, indicating Harry to take a seat. With slight trepidation, Harry moved to sit down and locked his hands together on the table, hoping to feign an air of calm and indifference. He waited for Snape to continue talking, but he took his sweet time sipping his tea slowly.

Finally Snape set his cup down. He folded the newspaper and put it aside before locking his black eyes with Harry's green ones. Harry fought a gulp, wondering what it was about this man that unnerved him so.

"Until you leave for Hogwarts, you shall not leave this house," Snape began with an even tone.

"You will also make sure not to get in my way while I am here and as such my rooms will be off limits to you. I have warded them strongly, so don't even think about trying your luck. Not even with that infernal cloak of yours, Potter. Trust me, I will know," Snape warned him darkly.

Realising Snape was waiting for a reply Harry quickly nodded his head.

"Yes sir."

"When writing letters, you will refrain from mentioning your whereabouts or who resides with you, as letters can easily be intercepted. There is no house elf here at this moment so you shall have to put that little skill you possess to use and make your own food and clean up after yourself. Do NOT make me repeat myself and do not expect me to be at your beck and call. You are not to bother me at all unless your death is imminent. Any questions?"

Harry struggled to take everything in and his jumbled thoughts settled on the house elf situation.

"Where's Kreacher?" he said bewildered. Snape raised an eyebrow.

"That house elf left when Black died. With no master, surely you do not think he would stay in a rotten place such as this?" Snape sneered at him as he stood and collected his stuff from the table.

"Any other stupid questions?"

"Will my friends be staying here anytime this summer?" Harry dared.

Snape looked up at him incredulously, obviously making it known that this fell right into the category of "stupid questions."

"Do you take me for a fool Potter? How would I possibly know all my students' summer plans? It is bad enough that I have come to know yours."

And with that Snape left the kitchen leaving an irritated Harry behind. He should have asked for Snape to unshrink his trunk but after the snarky answer to his earlier questions he would rather stick his hand in burning solution than ask for Snape's help.

The next few days went by uneventfully. Snape kept mostly to himself, which suited Harry just fine. The only times he saw the man were in the mornings and evenings when Harry went to the kitchen to make breakfast and dinner. At first he wondered whether he was required to make food for them both, as he rarely saw Snape eat anything. But Snape never said a word about it and made a habit of ignoring Harry as much as possible.

Harry spent his time wandering around Grimmauld Place, steadfastly ignoring Sirius" old room. He had found some interesting books in the library and he would often peruse them on the sofa by the fireplace. He also took the time to write to his friends, making sure not to explicitly mention anything about Snape or Headquarters. But as his friends already knew these things, he had fun coming up with codenames, especially for Snape. He snickered as he reread his correspondence with Ron over the past few days, which were laden with words like "bat", "vampire", "Mr. Greasy" and "Slimeball."

When books and letters could not keep him entertained anymore, he went up to explore the attic and found that it was full of dusty, old antiques. Deciding it would keep him occupied at the very least, and out of Snape's hair at the very best, he started dusting and cleaning. It actually proved to be fun. He compared it to a treasure hunt, every time he cleaned off a section he found the most surprising objects and artefacts.

After a while his stomach made itself heard and he realised it was well into the evening. He came down the stairs and went into the kitchen, the smell of food entering his nostrils. He saw Snape sitting at the table, surprisingly with a plate of food in front of him and taking bites after he finished each paragraph in the book next to his plate. He made no indication that he knew Harry was there, but Harry knew of the man's perceptiveness. Harry chose to ignore Snape in favour of abating his hunger and went to make some food. He stilled for a moment as he saw there was pot of stewed meat, some peas and mashed potatoes sitting on the stove. Did Snape make all that?

"You may take what's left," he heard Snape's low voice say.

Harry felt his eyebrows shoot up in surprise and he threw a glance over his shoulder at Snape. The man had not moved from his position and continued eating and reading.

"Err... yes, thank you sir," Harry said awkwardly and set himself to loading up his plate.

He sat down at the table, on the far other end from Snape who didn't seem to mind. He took a tentative bite, fleetingly marvelling at his own bravery for eating something Snape cooked without testing it for poison first. He was surprised to find out it was actually good! It was not Mrs. Weasley good, but it definitely came close. Who would have known that the greasy dungeon bat had such a knack for cooking?

He picked up his pace, shoving down bite after bite. He had not realised he had been this hungry, but as he looked at the clock above the door and saw that it was 8.30 pm already, he wasn't surprised. It did make him wonder why Snape ate this late. An image of Snape waiting for him to come down to dinner crossed his mind, and he shoved it away with an inward laugh.

"If you get an ulcer from your disgusting eating habits, do not expect me to help you," Snape grumbled from the other end of the table without looking at him.

Harry just shrugged. If he had a heart attack right now, Snape would not help him either. But he did continue eating at a slower pace, the initial peak of his hunger stilled. 

"Potter!"

Harry jumped at Snape's loud voice and found his dark eyes finally looking in his direction. Now what? But Snape's eyes were not focused on his own, instead they seemed to take in the rest of his appearance.

"What in Merlin's name have you been doing?"

Harry looked down at his clothing and found that they were covered in dust and spider webbings. He reached up a hand to comb his hair and it came off with webs as well. He looked back at Snape who was impatiently waiting for him to answer.

"Err, I was up in the attic."

"Doing what?" Snape levelled out, crossing his arms.

"Cleaning," Harry said flatly. He kept his eyes steadily on Snape's, daring him to find fault in his answer.

Snape raised one eyebrow at him but refrained from questioning his cleaning activities.
"And you truly had nothing better to do?"

Harry remained silent, not sure what the man was getting at.

"One would think that this time of solitude would provide ample opportunity to get some schoolwork done, especially as your knowledge of the most basic potions leaves much to be desired."

Snape gave him a knowing look, obviously referring to Harry's lag in recognising the Calming Draught he gave him earlier.

Harry gritted his teeth. He almost believed Snape was capable of being somewhat civil after he had made him food, but of course the man was insufferable.

"I know what that potion is! This is hardly the first time I have used it you know," Harry gritted out. "And as for my homework, it is still in my trunk upstairs and that is still shrinked, so -"

A thud was heard from the hallway and Snape held up his hand to silence him. He motioned for Harry to stay put as he stood up and went out the kitchen with his wand in hand. Harry sat for only a minute before getting up and walking to the door. He did not care for Snape's orders.

He almost collided with Snape as he returned and went back in the kitchen. He glared furiously at Harry, but Harry ignored him for there was someone else behind Snape, smiling at him.

"Remus!" 

Remus stepped around Snape and rested his hands on Harry's shoulders. Harry took in Remus' appearance and noticed his robes were filthy and torn, more so than usual. But the man smiled at him brilliantly, letting him know he was okay.

"You alright Harry?"

Harry nodded at him and smiled back, feeling the worry he had for the man's wellbeing over the past week lessen.

"You are late, Lupin," Snape said darkly.

Remus let go of Harry's shoulders, satisfied that he was fine and turned to Snape.

"Yes, Severus. Unfortunately, some unexpected things came up that delayed my return and I was unable to contact you timely." If Remus was at all perturbed at Snape's dark mood, he did not show it.

Snape looked like he wanted to say something in reply but Harry beat him to it.

"Where were you, Remus? Did it have something to do with the Order?"

Remus shot a look at Snape but only got a glare back from him. He then turned to Harry and shook his head.

"I'm sorry Harry, but I can't tell you exactly what I was doing. Dumbledore's orders."

Harry felt the familiar anger flare again.

"Dumbledore told you not to say anything? Even though he admitted to me it was a mistake to withhold information from me?"

"Headmaster Dumbledore," Snape intervened, "feels that any information given to you is to be monitored closely, lest it falls into the wrong hands."

"I haven't had any vision from Voldemort since last term, if that's what you mean," Harry retorted.

Snape stepped closer to Harry, who stood his ground.

"Do NOT say that name, Potter!" Snap spat at him. "And it does not matter if you have been seeing snippets of his mind or not, when the point is that he might be tapping into yours!"

"If Dumbledore thinks Voldemort can access my mind whenever he wants, it would be GREAT if someone told me!" Harry balled his fists. "What good will it do to keep me in the dark all the time? How will I know what to expect when something happens?"

Snape looked livid.

"And what will you do with that information? You are not a member of the Order, Potter! You are just an insolent child with a tendency to stick his nose where it doesn't belong. This is a war, people's lives are at stake. And you're complaining about not getting all the details?" Snape scoffed. "Your arrogance truly knows no limits. It astounds me how much like your father you are, he also did not care about the wellbeing of others, or the sacrifices that were made to ensure their safety. Always running headlong into the fire, acting like the hero while putting others in danger."

Snape righted himself and took a step back.

"Just for once, Potter, do as you are told and let the ADULTS handle this."

Harry glared at the man, not caring that Snape could see the anger in his mind. This was HIS war too, more so than they probably realised. He HAD to know the details, HAD to know what he was up against. It pained him that no one seemed to understand that.

"Now, now," Remus intervened uncertainly. "I'm sure Dumbledore will be able to tell you more whenever he is available, Harry. Wasn't he due to come by sometime this week, Severus?"

But Snape didn't answer. Instead he clutched his left arm as if he got burned with a hot frying pan. He tried to keep his face as impassive as possible but Harry could see him clenching his teeth. There was a brief moment where he could not hide his wince, his small grimace of pain.

"Severus?" Remus asked tentatively.

"I have to go," Snape said through clenched teeth. The two man shared a look and realisation dawned on Remus. He nodded at Snape with determination.

"I'll wait up for you."

"Don't bother, Lupin," Snape sneered, having regained some of his composure. He left the kitchen swiftly, grabbed a cloak from the coat rack and went out the front door.

"Ahem, well, it'll be just the two of us for the rest of the evening. What do you say to having some tea with me in the drawing room?" Remus clasped a hand on Harry's shoulder and tried to lighten the mood.

Harry nodded in reply, but his thoughts turned back to Snape as he watched Remus put a kettle on the fire. Of course he knew Snape had been a Death Eater back in the day and had been a spy for Dumbledore since the first war. But he had never seen him actually get called away and it unnerved him. He had a hard time imagining having to go back to Voldemort's circle on a regular basis, remembering the fear and helplessness he had felt whenever he ended up in Voldemort's clutches. He shuddered. No, he did not envy anyone who had to be around that monster.

But with that thought also came the apprehensive question of Snape's loyalty. Who would willingly put himself in mortal danger every time, just to get information? And for what? What did Snape get out of this? He wasn't a very social person and did not interact much with other adults so Harry could not imagine him having many, or any, friends to fight for. At least not on the light side of the war...

So, who was to say that Snape could be trusted? Everyone always says that Dumbledore trusts him, so there is no reason not to trust Snape. But Harry could not feel too comfortable with that idea, with him having some trust issues with Dumbledore as well. Dumbledore could be wrong, the man was not infallible.

Hermione's voice played in his head, telling him that they were wrong to mistrust Snape before, that Snape had saved Harry's live on numerous occasions in the past. But Harry waved it away as he wondered what Snape's goal was in doing so. Did he only do it to please Dumbledore? Somehow Harry could not imagine him the pleasing type. But what was it then?

Harry was shaken out of his reverie by Remus handing him a cup of tea and steering him to the drawing room. Harry sat down on the sofa while Remus settled in the armchair, warming his hands on the hot cup contently. Harry suddenly wondered how long it had been since Remus had been able to sit down and relax, enjoy food and drinks and take a shower. He also just noticed the lines of fatigue on Remus face had deepened since he last saw him.

Remus looked at him over his teacup.

"You know, staring a hole in my forehead won't get you anywhere," Remus winked. "A penny for your thoughts?"

"I'm just glad you're safe. I was worried about you," Harry admitted.

Remus sighed and took a sip from his tea.

"Snape wouldn't tell me anything about your whereabouts or when you would return," Harry continued, not quite able to conjure up the heat of frustration he felt earlier.

Remus smiled sadly at him. "I'm sorry, Harry. The last thing I wanted was for you to worry over me."

Harry nodded in understanding. Of course, it wasn't Remus' fault but that did not make him feel any better about it.

For a while they both remained silent, slowly sipping their tea and seemingly deep in their own thoughts. Then, suddenly, Remus started talking.

"I cannot tell you where I was exactly, or with whom," Remus started staring at the fireplace. "But I can tell you some of the task I was on. I met with some people that I know from my time abroad, from a time well before the second war started. I knew these people well, and have worked with them before on all kinds of... projects, you can call them. I was to convince them to aid us in the war against Voldemort."

Remus took another sip from his tea but did not continue, lost in thought.

"What happened?" Harry prodded.

Remus glanced at him, stirred from his thoughts, and seemed to measure him.

"There was an attack," he said.

Harry's eyes widened. "Did Voldemort...?"

But Remus shook his head. "It wasn't Voldemort, nor any of his followers."

Harry looked at him in confusion. Who else was out there attacking people?

"Have you ever heard anything about the Southern Raiders?" Remus asked.

Harry shook his head in denial, wondering if there was yet another enemy they had to look out for.

"I would imagine not. They are not as widely known in the northern parts of Europe. They are a small group of people who believe in the purity of wizarding blood above all else, including muggles and half-bloods."

When he saw Harry's frown at this, Remus continued. "Yes, it is quite similar to Voldemort's beliefs. However, the Southern Raiders started out as a sort of peaceful group of protesters. They tried to convince people of their beliefs by going from door to door, handing out pamphlets and what not. Leaving people they could not convince alone. They never did any more than that until the first war with Voldemort ended. It's as if they suddenly saw their chance to take the stage with him out of the way. They never admitted to an alliance with Voldemort, wanting to distance themselves from him even. But it would not surprise me if there were some Voldemort sympathizers among their ranks."

"But even then they were not as ruthless as Voldemort's supporters. They never killed in large masses, instead opting to take over villages and small cities and condemn muggles and half-bloods to hard labour for their own gain."

Remus paused to refill his and Harry's teacup and Harry was impatient for him to continue.

"They were not secretive about their plans and raids at all. They operated in broad daylight and everyone knew what they were doing, when and where. That's probably why they were so easy to take down. Not two years after the first war ended, the Aurors of those regions had rounded them up, effectively ending their raids."

Remus leaned back in his chair, visibly relaxing his shoulders.

Harry frowned. "But, if they were stopped all those years ago, how can they have attacked you now?"

"I'm not sure. You can imagine my surprise at finding out the attack was their doing. Though the Aurors have put a stop to them in the past, some of them must have been able to avoid being caught and managed to lay low for all those years. But the raid in Florence was unlike any I have seen before, dozens of people killed, village burnt down..."

"Florence? You were in Italy?" Harry asked surprised.

Remus looked a little guilty, as if he had let information slip unintentionally.

"Err... yes. Yes I was." He scratched the back of his head.

"So, because of the attack, you were not able to convince your... acquaintances to join our side?" Harry offered.

Remus shook his head. "My negotiations were brutally interrupted. However I still hold hope that they will be persuaded next time. Now they have seen what this one-sided vision on blood-purity can bring about."

"You can't be planning to go back there, right?"

"I can and I will, Harry," Remus said as he stood up and set his now empty cup on the coffee table.

"This is a war, and I will do anything in my power to make sure the odds tip in our favour. And you must do so as well Harry, but not by deciding to run off on your own." When Harry opened his mouth to protest he added, "However well intended."

"And also trust us to make the right decisions with the available information and accept that we cannot tell you everything."

"Then why are you telling me all this, Remus?" Harry asked deflated, referring to the story of Remus' mission.

Remus came around and knelt before Harry so they were on the same eye level.

"Because I trust you Harry. I sometimes forget you're not the thirteen year old boy I met a couple of years ago, who had trouble fighting off his own fears. You are becoming a man, and however much I would like to spare you from the horrors of this war, I know that it is inevitable. You know about it, have seen it, have experienced it even. You know of sacrifice and loss. And I trust that you will move forward with caution."

Harry swallowed around a lump in his throat and averted his eyes. "I miss him, Remus," he whispered.

Remus nodded and smiled sadly. "I do too."

Remus squeezed his shoulder and Harry drew comfort in the gesture. He knew that Remus would never be able to take up the place in Harry's life that Sirius had now left empty, but it helped to know that the man would always be there for him and that they shared the same loss. 

"Now, time for bed I think." They got up and Remus steered Harry in the direction of the stairs with a hand on his back. They arrived at Harry's bedroom and Remus turned to say goodnight.

"Oh I forgot!" Harry picked up a tiny trunk from his nightstand. "Could you...?"

Remus chuckled at him but drew his wand. "Gryffindor bravery has its limits I see," he said teasingly as he unshrunk Harry's trunk. Harry grinned at him, knowing that he was referring to him not asking Snape for help.

"It's not so much a lack of bravery, I guess, but more of a mutual agreement not to bother each other," he said and nodded his thanks to the older man for unshrinking his trunk. Remus laughed at that. 

"Goodnight, Harry," Remus said as he stood in the doorway.

"Goodnight, Remus."

When Harry woke next he was unsure of what had woken him. It was still very dark and a quick glance at his watch on the nightstand told him it was 2:15 am. He frowned and tried to remember if he dreamt anything. He could vaguely recall flashes of a circle of Death Eaters and the Cruciatus curse being used multiple times. But any details had drifted away as soon as he woke up. It was probably not a vision then, he surmised.

He shifted in his bed to get comfortable and closed his eyes to try and fall asleep again, but after ten minutes of trying he gave up, now fully awake. Deciding to get up and get some water in hopes of getting himself sleepy again, he threw the sheets off him, got up and left his room. When he got down the stairs and stepped towards the kitchen he stilled, and looked towards the door that led to the drawing room. It was slightly ajar and he could hear hushed voices from within.

Curiosity peaked as he tiptoed closer and moved towards the shadows next to the open door of the drawing room. He heard the sound of someone shaking off some robes and listened closely.

"...told you not to stay up, Lupin? I did not know werewolves had hearing problems." Snape's voice sounded gruff. 

"And I told you I would wait for you Severus, and I am not in the habit of breaking promises," Remus replied.

"Spare me the sentimentalities, wolf. I assure you they are lost on me."

A long silence followed and Harry grew worried that they might have found him out. Just as he wanted to step away and flee, he heard Remus' voice cut through the silence.

"You are hurt."

Snape growled in response. "Obviously."

Harry heard someone plump down on one of the sofas with a grunt. Harry was itching to take a closer look through the small crack between the wall and the door, but feared it would give him away.

"Do you need help?" Remus asked.

"What I need is to be left in peace."

Harry could hear the clinking of potion vials as they were retrieved from a pocket. Snape was probably tending to whatever it was that ailed him on his own. It obviously worked wonders as he heard a long sigh coming from the Potions master half a minute later.

"What was his reason tonight?" Remus asked, ending the second stretch of silence between the men.

Snape scoffed but replied anyway, an obvious sign of the man's exhaustion. "He hardly needs a reason."

Remus sighed at that. "Was there anything useful to be gained from it, at least?"

Snape's voice darkened considerably as he replied. "I report only to the headmaster, Lupin, so stop your infernal interrogation."

"Sorry, Severus. I know you've had a taxing evening," Remus replied a minute later.

Snape huffed in response. Harry could imagine his dark glare directed at Remus. Another silence stretched on and Harry's mind returned to its previous turmoil. Snape had attended a Death Eater meeting, had in fact stood face to face with Voldemort not half an hour ago. He even got hurt because of it. And here he was, calmly sitting in the drawing room of Headquarters and tending to his wounds. Harry had a hard time coming to terms with the stark contrast of the two events.

He was brought back from his thoughts when Snape spoke again in a rather subdued voice.

"He has doubled his efforts to find the boy. He knows he left his relatives' house and I reported that he is not currently at Hogwarts. The Dark Lord has concluded that his best chance of getting to the boy is before the school year begins. It is therefore of great importance that the boy remains inside this house before he can safely be transported to Hogwarts," Snape ended in a strong and demanding tone.

"He will," Remus replied without hesitation.

"See to it that he does. I have little faith in his abilities to follow orders without supervision," Snape said scornfully.

"I will be gone in two days, Severus." Remus said, ignoring the jibe towards his young friend.

"Still on that impossible mission with the wolves?" Snape sneered.

Apparently Remus nodded at that for Harry heard no verbal reply.

"Not to worry," Snape said with a hint of tiredness in his voice. "I will remain at headquarters for the remainder of the summer."

Harry heard some shuffling and figured they were done with their conversation and making their way out of the drawing room. With a flutter of panic he fled to his bedroom as quickly as possible without making a sound. Once inside his bedroom he listened closely until he could hear someone passing his door and continuing up the second flight of stairs. A few breaths later he could hear the soft closing of a door somewhere within Grimmauld Place and he finally let out a breath he just realised he had been holding. He climbed back into his bed and stared unblinkingly at the ceiling, all thoughts of sleeping lost on him as he mulled over the conversation he had overheard.

Snape was an enigma to him. He could not decide for himself what to think of the man. His vile behaviour in general generated little reason to trust him and Harry's experiences with him over the past five years did nothing to mitigate that view on his Potions Professor. Yet there he was, his actions as a spy becoming more and more clear to Harry and he had to admit that the man brought back valuable information for the Order. And he must either be incredibly brave for risking his life for that information, or incredibly stupid.

His thoughts shifted to Remus. The man had confirmed what Harry already suspected. His mission involved other werewolves and Remus was deployed to gain their trust and get them on the right side of the war before Voldemort had a chance to reach them. And Remus was to go back to try again in a couple of days. Harry felt a pang of worry for his former Professor at that thought. Remembering the story of the Southern Raiders, Harry wondered if there was more to be known about them. He wished he could ask Hermione. No doubt she would find out within a few days if he asked. He decided to wait until he was able to ask her in person though, he was pretty sure this was a topic he should not discuss in his owl correspondence.

After replaying the conversation he overheard in his head a couple of times, he felt the sleepiness returning and turned around in his bed to face the wall. He soon drifted off.


--


The following morning Harry and Remus went to prepare breakfast in the kitchen. They met Snape who apparently had already finished his morning ritual of drinking tea and reading newspapers. He shot them a sour look before he got up and left without a word. Remus shrugged at Harry with a grin and moved towards the fridge to get some food.

They had a nice and peaceful morning, talking about things that for once had nothing to do with the Order or the war. They played some chess until Harry led Remus to the attic in the afternoon to show him the "treasures" he had found there earlier. Remus was surprised and excited about them and they spent the rest of the afternoon uncovering more objects.

Harry knew that Remus was to leave the next day so he wanted to spend as much time with his former professor as possible. Remus had not told him yet and Harry wondered if he even would tell him beforehand or if he would just be gone one morning.

When they sat down in the drawing room after dinner the next day, Remus finally came round to telling Harry he was to leave in the morning. Harry acted properly taken aback but relented perhaps quicker than he normally would. Remus seemed relieved at that and Harry felt guilty about having made the man nervous about telling him.

"I will probably not return before you leave for school," Remus said remorseful.

Harry nodded at him, having expected as much. "Will you be able to write to me?"

"I will make sure I can," Remus said with a smile on his face.

The next morning they said their goodbyes as Remus squeezed his shoulders and assured Harry that he would be careful. With a quick wave he was out of the door and Harry was left alone in the dark entrance hall. He felt put out at the departure of the man he considered a close friend and his last connection to his parents and Sirius. He was relieved to know that things between them had not changed since the events at the ministry. Harry felt a stab in his chest at the thoughts that tried to overtake him so he shrugged them off quickly and went to his room to retrieve his schoolbooks, deciding he could not put that off any longer.

The week that followed was filled with homework, writing to his friends and wandering the house and especially the library to find good books to help him write his essays. It was a blissfully Snape-free week as he rarely saw the man. Knowing the man stayed at headquarters to keep his student in check, Harry found it odd that the Potions Professor never showed his face to make sure he was still inside the house. Then again, Harry figured Snape probably had some sort of tracking spell to alert him if Harry so much as stepped a toe outside. 

A few times during the week some Order members would drop by and Harry was glad for the distraction. Staying inside the dark house during the summer and having nothing better to do then homework, he soon became rather bored. Kingsley Shacklebolt came by and Harry learned about some things going on at the Ministry. Apparently it was more important to decide how to resurrect the destroyed monument in the Central Hall than it was to plan strategies for the war with the Death Eaters. Kingsley had explained this with a roll of the eye, and telling Harry it was a very busy time for the Auror department.

Tonks came by later as well, though Harry found her to be very subdued instead of the energetic character she used to be. She didn't say anything about it, but Harry figured she too must have a hard time at work this summer.

It was then that Harry learned that the Weasleys and Hermione would be spending their last days of summer at Grimmauld Place and he could not wait for them to arrive. He longed to be able to talk to someone his own age.

His nightmares had returned since he had woken Snape up that first time, but they were not as bad and he managed not to wake up screaming. He felt a bit disconcerted that he had trouble remembering the details of his dreams. Whereas he would normally be able to vividly picture his dreams after he had woken up, he could now only remember bits and pieces. And he felt unsettled that those pieces almost always contained scenes of Voldemort or his Death Eaters. He couldn't tell if that meant his dreams were not dreams at all but visions sent to him by Voldemort himself. He vowed he would ask Dumbledore about them as soon as he saw the man.

But Dumbledore never came to Grimmauld Place, despite Remus' remark that he would be coming around. In a fit of bewilderment, Harry dared ask Snape when the headmaster was to arrive, but he only got a snarl in return and a comment that Dumbledore was entirely too busy to waste his time on insufferable students such as himself. Harry refrained from commenting that visions from Voldemort would probably top Dumbledore's priority list. But he didn't feel comfortable with the idea of Snape knowing about them, he thought as visions of horrible Occlumency lessons passed his mind.

On the Wednesday before the start of the new school year the Weasleys and Hermione arrived and Harry eagerly waited for them in the hallway. Snape also stood waiting in the back although he looked like he would rather be anywhere else. With a loud bang the front door swung open and Harry was surprised to see Hermione, Ron and Ginny being ushered inside hastily by a grunting Mad-Eye Moody and a frantic looking Arthur Weasley. They were all panting as if they had just run three miles, Hermione's hair was a mess and Ron had a protective arm around his sister. Harry immediately knew something was wrong.

He stepped towards his friends but a firm hand around his upper arm held him back.

"Get back, Potter," Snape growled although it lacked his usual malice. Snape stepped past the teens and questioned Moody about their messy arrival.

Mr. Weasley ushered them towards the kitchen and ordered them to stay put, before he too went back out the hall.

Harry whirled on his friends. "What is going on?"

Hermione spoke first while righting her hair. "We apparated from the Burrow to just across the street. As soon as we arrived Death Eaters appeared as well."

"It's a good thing we had the Order members with us," Ron said. "They acted without hesitation. I'm not sure how many there were as we managed to get inside within seconds."

"But then... that means they know?" Harry asked no-one in particular. "About Headquarters?"

"Headquarters is protected by the Fidelius Charm, which means it is unplottable, even if someone stood right outside the window," Hermione said. Harry wondered, not for the first time, at the workings of that charm.

"Yet, they were there... exactly at the same time we arrived," Ginny said.

Hermione nodded at that with a frown. "Yes, which means they either were here all along, keeping guard around this general area for any sign of the Order, or...," Hermione sat down at the table with a huff. "Or they have found a way to trace our movements."

Harry felt his stomach drop at her suggestion.

"How can they though?," Ron offered and a second later realisation dawned on his face. "Do you mean there is a spy in the Order? I bet you it's Snape!"

"Oh Ron, don't be ridiculous! How many times have we thought Snape to be the bad guy when in fact he saved Harry's live multiple times?" Hermione told Ron with an exasperated sigh.

"I don't trust Snape either, but he has not left the house in weeks and he could not have known you were to arrive today. We only heard two days ago that you were coming," Harry stepped in.

Ron narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "Two days is more than enough time to secretly pass information. There are ways of communication without leaving physically, you know."

Harry acquiesced, having no trouble imagining Snape with his greasy head stuck in the floo, passing on all kinds of information about the Order. Yet he realised he could not completely agree when he thought back to the night Snape returned from a Death Eater meeting, hurt and tired. That could not be an act, right?

Harry was shaken out of his thoughts when the adults entered the kitchen. He was relieved to see that everyone was still in one piece. Mr. Weasley immediately went to his youngest children and put an affectionate arm around them. Harry felt a slight pang of something similar to jealousy so he turned towards the other adults in the room and caught Moody staring at him.

"What happened? Did you get them?" Harry asked.

"No, the bastards fled as soon as we got your lot inside," Moody grunted as he crossed his arms.

"How could they have known we would be there?" Tonks asked no-one in particular.

"They must have stationed men around the area," Kingsley offered.

"Or they were told of the time and place beforehand," Moody said ominously.

Snape stepped out of the doorway, arms crossed in annoyance. "Stop your dramatic insinuations, Moody. If there was a spy in our midst we would not have lasted this long in the war."

"Funny you should say that, Snape. If anyone would know about spying it would definitely be you wouldn't it?" Moody replied turning towards Snape.

"If you have something to say, simply say it," Snape said with disdain while glaring at the old Auror.

"Oh I see right through you and your facade, Snape. I'd watch my back if I were you."

"That ridiculous eyeball of yours sees through anything, so that's hardly an accomplishment."

If the situation was less tense, and if it wasn't Snape, Harry might have snickered at that.

"Enough both of you," Kinsley intervened. "Someone should report this incident to Dumbledore. Severus, if you will?"

Snape nodded curtly and swiftly left the kitchen, looking glad to be rid of their company.

"Now, there is no harm done. Everyone arrived here safely, just as planned. We should get back to the Ministry," Kingsley indicated the rest of the Aurors.

"I'll go too, as soon as Severus returns," Mr. Weasley said.

With a nod, Kingsley and Tonks left. Moody sought Harry's gaze before he left. "Constant vigilance," he said pointedly and swept out the kitchen. Harry frowned and wondered if Moody meant for him to keep an eye out for Snape.

"Why don't you all get settled in," Mr. Weasley told them and ushered them upstairs.

Harry went with Ron to their shared bedroom and sat on his bed while he watched Ron put his things away.

"So," Ron started while dropping his pajamas unceremoniously on his bed. "How's your stay here so far? 

Harry shrugged. "It's been alright, I guess. Just boring when there's no one to talk to."

Ron grinned at him. "Sure, Snape is not the talkative type, is he?"

Harry threw his pillow at him. "Even if he was, I would rather lock myself up in Myrtle's bathroom for a week than exchange more than two sentences with that man."

"So, would I mate."

Harry shifted on the bed, before looking back at Ron. "You don't really think Snape is the spy? For Voldemort's side I mean."

Ron flopped down on his own bed, apparently done with his stuff. "I don't know. I trust that git about as far as I can throw him." He turned his head to look at Harry. "Why?"

Harry quickly told Ron about the night Snape got called to a Death Eater meeting and the conversation he overheard between him and Remus. Ron was frowning by the time Harry finished.

"Well, that sounds like he is on our side after all," Ron said while scratching his nose. "But then, that's what spies are good at right? Making you believe they're on your side, gaining your trust and then..."

CLAP!  Ron clapped his hands hard.

"... they catch you unawares."

"Really, Ron, you're still going on about Snape being on the bad side?"  Hermione said as she and Ginny stepped inside the boys' bedroom.

Ron and Harry quickly retold the story to the girls, but they did not seem as impressed as Ron had.

"See? He's still looking out for you Harry," Hermione said smartly. "Dumbledore trusts him, and so should you."

"Dumbledore could be wrong though. He has never said exactly why he trusts Snape." Harry argued.

Hermione sighed impatiently. "Oh Harry, does that really matter? Even if he was not trusted by Dumbledore, don't you think his actions speak for itself? He has had five years, ample time to off you if he were so inclined. Yes he's been mean and bitter towards you, but he has also saved your live. That, alone, should have eliminated your doubts about him."

The others nodded and Harry had to admit she had a good point.

"You're right Hermione. I should stop worrying about Snape's loyalties before it drives me mad. Besides, there are more important things to worry about." Harry conceded.

"There sure are! What did you get on your OWL"s?" Hermione asked, effectively changing the topic.

Harry frowned. "I didn't get them."

Ginny perked up. "They were probably sent to your aunt and uncle's house. Since you left so abruptly, you must have missed them."

"Right," Harry said. "I'll write to McGonagall then. Perhaps I can get them in time to order the books I need."

"McGonagall will understand if you can't get your school supplies in time before classes start," Hermione said reassuringly.

"McGonagall will, but others, like Snape, won't," Harry said chagrined.

"Well mate, if you're lucky you won't even have to take Potions. I only got an Acceptable on my Potions exam and Snape won't allow students in his NEWT class with less than Outstanding."

Hermione scoffed at Ron's lack of educational ambitions.

"I hope I will not be that lucky then," Harry said with a grin. "I have to take NEWT Potions to be able to become an Auror."

"You probably did fine, Harry. Don't worry about it." Hermione said.

They were called downstairs where Mr. Weasley was about to leave for the Ministry. He promised to be back as soon as he could, but warned them it would probably be an all-nighter.

The four of them spent their day talking about their summer (Ron seemed especially interested in Hermione's stories of the dentist's office of her parents) and playing Exploding Snap. Snape was nowhere to be seen all day.

When dinnertime came around they went to the kitchen and when Harry told them they would have to make their own dinner, Hermione and Ginny stepped up enthusiastically, opening cabinets and pulling out some pasta.

"Harry, could you give me a hand?" Ginny asked, trying to reach for an oven dish from one of the higher cupboards. Harry reached up to take it out, but at that moment his scar flared and he doubled over.

He vaguely registered the clinging and smashing sounds of the cupboard contents as he pressed his hands to his forehead, trying in vain to relieve the pain. He gritted his teeth against the blinding, scorching heat and felt a wave of immense anger wash over him that he was sure was not his. He became aware of hands on his shoulders, guiding him to sit on the floor and lean against the kitchen counter.

"Try to slow your breathing, Potter."

Harry pried his eyes open and stared into Snape's obsidian black orbs. He was crouched before him on the kitchen floor.

"He's furious," Harry blurted out, knowing at once that Snape would understand what he meant.

Something shifted in Snape's eyes, but in a fraction it was gone and Harry was too much in pain to dwell on it. Harry squeezed his eyes shut to try to block out a new wave of pain.

"Look at me," Snape ordered.

Harry obeyed and stared at him. He feared for a moment that the man would legilimize him right there, but he sensed no change in his mind. Instead Snape's deep, never-ending, dark eyes provided an anchor for Harry to hold on to, something to draw his focus away from the immobilizing pain.

Slowly the pain receded and Harry worked on controlling his breathing. Apparently satisfied, Snape backed away and stood up. Ron and Hermione helped him up and sat him down at the table. With the pain gone from his scar, Harry felt exhausted and propped his head up with his hands.

"Do you feel any lingering pain?" Snape asked impassively.

Harry shook his head in denial. Snape nodded curtly and went to dispel the mess in the kitchen.

Ron leaned towards Harry. "Did you..." he glanced furtively at Snape's back. "See anything?" he asked.

"No, it was not a vision. I just felt his anger. Something must have happened to get him in that state," Harry replied as he too glanced at Snape.

But Snape did not offer any explanation. Instead he somehow finished the dinner that Hermione and Ginny had started with a few waves of his wand. He levitated the oven dish, now filled with a steaming hot Lasagna, to the table.

"Eat," he ordered tersely before leaving the kitchen with a billow of his robes.

They stared at the food for a minute before Ron spoke up tentatively. "You think it's safe to eat this?" he asked, apprehension visible on his face.

"I've eaten his food before," Harry said without feeling. "It's fine."

They dug in enthusiastically, except for Harry who pushed his food around his plate.

"Try to eat a little, Harry," Ginny said with a small smile.

"I'm not really hungry," Harry said but took a few bites anyway. Ginny nodded at him in understanding and left it at that.

That night, as he listened to Ron's snoring, he wondered at Voldemort's anger. Knowing from experience, it probably had to do with him. He suddenly realised that Voldemort might have planned to capture him today, when the Death Eaters ambushed his friends. The fact that his followers had failed in that regard might just be what induced Voldemort's wrath now. He pondered for a second whether Snape would be summoned again tonight, for he too had failed to bring Harry to his master.

With that thought in mind Harry lay awake for the greater part of the night, closely listening for any sign that Snape was awake or about to leave the house.

He heard none.

The days flew by quickly and soon it was time to leave for Hogwarts. McGonagall had not yet replied to his letter so it remained a mystery what his OWL scores were. He would have to wait until he was at Hogwarts to ask her and then order his needed supplies for his NEWT classes as soon as possible. At this point he more than dreaded his results for Potions. Even if he managed to score high enough to be allowed in his class, Snape would surely not appreciate him attending without books and supplies.

Over the past few days there had been some discussion over the wisdom of letting them go to Hogwarts with the Hogwarts Express, but apparently Dumbledore had deemed it necessary for them to be seen on the train. It was agreed that there would be Aurors and professors on the train to ensure the students' safety.

With a lot of banter, shuffling and yelling from Mrs. Weasley to Hurry up! they finally left Number twelve Grimmauld Place and arrived at King's Cross Station. As several Order members went with them, it was weird to see them walk around the muggle station. Tonks especially got a few stares with her vibrant pink hair.

At Platform 9 3/4 they said their goodbyes to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, the latter accompanied with bone-crushing hugs. The platform was almost emptied of students so Harry figured they were among the last to arrive. With a final wave they stepped up into the train and were immediately united by Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood.

After exchanging their hello's, Hermione and Ron went off to the Prefect's carriage for the meeting, and Harry, Ginny, Neville and Luna set off to find a compartment. Which proved to be difficult as the train was bustling with students already.

"I swear, every year there are more students coming in than the year before," Ginny said in annoyance.

Somewhere at the back of the train, they found an almost empty compartment. Ginny peered through the glass, trying to see if she knew the girl seated inside. She had long, curly auburn hair, tied with a white ribbon, and strikingly blue eyes. She was reading a book when she noticed them standing before the window. Ginny slid the compartment door open.

"Hi, is it okay with you if we sit here?" She asked indicating the others behind her. "Everywhere else is full."

The girl smiled and nodded. Harry and Neville stowed their trunks in the luggage rack and sat down, Harry gladly took the place near the window, ending up on the opposite side of the girl.

"Thanks.  I'm Ginny Weasley and they are Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood and -"

"Harry Potter," the girl finished, looking over her book in Harry's direction.

"Yeah..." Ginny faltered for a moment but recovered quickly. "I don't believe I've ever seen you at Hogwarts," she said.

"That's right, I have never been at Hogwarts. I'm a transfer student from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and I'm starting at Hogwarts in fifth year. I'm Kai-Enna Venturi by the way."

"Nice to meet you. You'll be in the same year as me and Luna," Ginny said. Kai-Enna beamed at that.

"I'm glad to meet you, I was a bit worried about starting at Hogwarts without knowing anyone. I'd hate to stand out," she said nervously.

"Don't you worry, Luna and I will show you around," Ginny assured her. "If you don't mind me asking, though... how come you're transferring to Hogwarts now?"

"My parents got divorced before the summer. I used to live in Nice, France, you know. But my mum wanted to get as far away from my father as possible. She has family who live in Wales, so that's where we went. Beauxbatons is a lot farther away now and we didn't want to risk seeing my father or any of his friends there. Mum is afraid they will kidnap me or something," Kai-Enna snorted, conveying she doubted the likelihood of that.

"Sorry to hear that," Ginny said.

"Have you ever seen a tri-horned Bracknum?" Luna asked Kai-Enna with interest.

Kai- Enna looked at her with a blank face.

"No, I don't think I have."

"That's unfortunate, they're rumoured to be quite common in France." Luna shifted her attention back to her copy of the Quibbler, which she read upside-down as usual.

Kai-Enna giggled and took something out of her bag and showed it to Luna, who averted her eyes from the Quibbler to look at it.

"But I have seen all these rare creatures on my travels."

Harry shifted in his seat and realized she was holding pictures. Looking closely he could make out birds in all kinds of colours, some with horns on their backs or sprouting tentacles. Another picture showed a creature that looked remarkably like a crossbreed between an Elephant and a giraffe.

"You must've travelled a lot then," Neville commented.

"Yes I have, there aren't many places I haven't been yet," Kai-Enna told them proudly. "What about you? Do you travel a lot?"

"My family often travels to Romania to visit my brother who works there with dragons," Ginny told her.

"My grandmother and I have been to the Netherlands once," Neville said proudly.

"I only go to places in the world where rare creatures live to study them," Luna said with just a little bit of jealousy shining in her voice.

Harry kept quiet. He knew that he couldn't answer that question the same way the others had. The Dursley's would rather drown themselves in front of the whole neighbourhood before they ever took him with them on vacation. They always told him he was either too expensive or he hadn't deserved it. The latter was used on more than one occasion of course.

"And what about you, Harry," Kai-Enna looked at him with big, round eyes. "Where have you travelled to?"

"Oh, I haven't been outside of Britain," Harry turned his head back to the window to try and hide the flush that crept up to his face at the looks the others were giving him. Ginny's and Neville's were understanding, Kai-Enna wore a look of indifference and Luna had already returned her attention to her copy of the Quibbler.

"Oh, that's a pity, you should really try it sometime. England can be a very boring place when you're locked up in it for a long time."

Harry knew Kai-Enna meant no harm with that comment but it stung. He was locked up in this land. He had even less space in his prison for he would not be able to go anywhere alone, not without bodyguards. At the Dursleys he was not allowed to leave the house and at Hogwarts he would be reprimanded by all professors for setting one foot outside of Hogwarts grounds. Well except for Snape maybe, he would probably push him to take a second step.

"Yes I think I will," Harry said while wondering if he would live long enough to see the world.

He was just looking in the direction of the compartment door when he saw Draco Malfoy pass by. The blonde boy glanced briefly inside and locked eyes with Harry before he swiftly walked on. Harry frowned at that. Malfoy never passed up the opportunity to torment Harry or his friends. Bullying Gryffindors, especially Harry Potter, came with the standard package of the Slytherin's behaviour. It was definitely suspicious, but as everything else seemed in order, Harry shrugged and counted his blessings.

The rest of the journey went by quickly and when Hermione and Ron found their compartment the light chatter became a friendly discussion about muggles. Harry wasn't listening to them and was looking out of the window at the emerging rainclouds.

Soon they changed into their school robes and by this time it was downright pouring.

Suddenly screeching sounds could be heard and the train was coming to an abrupt halt. Soon the lights went out and everything was quiet. Harry looked at the others, barely making out their faces in the scarce light that came through the window, and saw them giving him a knowing look. It was third year all over again and Harry half expected a dementor to glide by. But that didn't happen. Instead loud shouting voices could be heard outside. Harry squinted through the window but couldn't make out anything through the heavy rain. Having a sudden urge to find out what was going on, he took out his wand and stood.

"Ron, Hermione, Neville come with me, I'm going to take a look at the front of the train. The rest stays here," Harry said firmly.

"But we can fight too, Harry," Ginny said somewhat irritated. "Don't you remember last -"

"Yes I do, and that's exactly why I'm telling you to stay put!" Harry told the youngest redhead, leaving no room for argument.

Ginny glared at him, searching his eyes before finally relenting with a sigh.

"Fine.  But just so you know, you won't be able to tell us that every time there's something going on. You can't force us to stand back while you are risking your lives." Ginny sat back down, still looking irritated. But Harry didn't care as long as she stayed where she was.

The four of them lighted the tips of their wands and stepped into the corridor and headed towards the front of the train. Along the way they saw other students peer through the glass-panelled doors of the compartments, debating whether they too should come out and have a look. The majority of them stayed within the safety of their compartments, though a few members of the DA, a secret defence club they had started last year, followed the trio through the corridor with their wands held defensively in front of them.

The shouting became louder and they could see different colours of light that indicated the use of spells and hexes. Harry was now pretty sure there were Death Eaters outside and knew they needed help.

Just before they reached the front, Dean Thomas exited the last compartment and met them.

"There are Death Eaters just outside the train. Some seventh year students are out there, but there are no adults anywhere! No professors, no Aurors..." Dean told them frantically. Harry frowned at that and looked over his shoulder at his friends.

Hermione spoke up. "I'll go back to find them. In the mean time, don't do anything stupid."

Hermione hesitated for a fraction but then turned and went back.

Ron nudged his arm and he turned back towards the windows. He could no longer see any lights coming from outside. Did that mean it was over? Had they panicked for nothing and sent for help when it wasn't even necessary?

His thoughts were soon proven wrong as he could detect movement at the front of the train. He quickly extinguished the light coming from the tip of his wand and saw the others behind him do the same. He crouched down to be a somewhat smaller target and sat waiting in the shadows for a sign.

And how quickly it came...

A shadow stepped into the train and took them by surprise.

"Crucio!"

Ernie Macmillan, who stood straight behind them, was hit with the torturing curse and lay writhing on the floor screaming from the pain.

Harry quickly put up a defensive shield to prevent any more of these swift curses from being hurtled their way, knowing that no shield could prevent an Unforgivable Curse from reaching them.

"Stupefy!" he heard someone shout at the Death Eater who had cast the Unforgivable.

The curse was lifted and Ernie's breath came in gasps, but he was otherwise fine.

Harry saw someone helping Ernie of the ground and bring him away, though he couldn't see who it was as Ron stepped forward to help stabilize the shield. But it wasn't strong enough and within a few minutes curses were breaking through. Harry quickly flattened himself against the wall and shot a few stunners in the direction of the Death Eaters.

Suddenly the Death Eaters retreated outside and all was quiet.

A few minutes passed and nothing happened. Harry heard small jumps of joy behind him as the others clearly thought it was over. He met Ron's eye and they both knew it was far from over.

As if on cue the train began to shake and windows shattered. Pulling up defence shields to protect themselves from the flying shards of glass, the students peered through the windows into the darkness.

Harry knew they would be trapped inside the train if they stayed. Besides they needed to lure the Death Eaters away from the rest. And where were the professors who should be on this train in case things like this happened? Where was Hermione?

Shaking off his thoughts, Harry ran towards the very front of the train, Ron right behind him, and stood next to the open train doors getting ready to fight. He shot one last glance at Ron, who looked as determined as Harry felt.

One last nod to his best friend and he jumped off the train into the soggy grass.

Immediately curses shot their way and Harry quickly deflected them and shot a few disarming spells their way, knowing that they wouldn't be able to find their wands in this darkness. Rain was still pouring down and Harry soon lost sight of Ron and the others though he could still hear their shouts. He crouched down behind a bunch of bushes and rocks and wiped his glasses, trying to remember the incantation that would make that unnecessary. Where's Hermione when you need her? 

His brainstorming was interrupted by a Death Eater, whom he vaguely remembered as Avery, who had spotted him and shot some unrecognizable spells his way. Harry quickly dove away and silently thanked his quick reflexes that were a result of being a seeker for five years.

Heart pounding he took up a duelling position and tried to make out the outline of his enemy through his wet glasses.

"Stupefy!"

Avery deflected it and sent another curse Harry's way. But it was poorly aimed and rebounded on a rock and hit another Death Eater standing a few yards away.

Avery was distracted as he watched his fellow Death Eater fall, and Harry took his opportunity.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

Avery's body stiffened in position and fell to the ground.

"Incarcerous!" Ropes tightened around his body to secure him until help came.

Harry ran back towards the rest and he could just make out Justin Finch-Fletchley and Anthony Goldstein battling a Death Eater duo who looked suspiciously like Crabbe and Goyle senior, and somewhat further away he saw Ron, Michael Corner and a couple of seventh year students fighting a Death Eater he didn't recognize. Any other day he would have found it ironic that Ron was fighting alongside the person he despised last year for dating his sister. He was just about to run to them to help out when he was called.

"Harry!"

He turned around and saw Hermione and Ginny coming out of the train. Hermione had just knocked a Death Eater unconscious with some complicated spells and kicked him to the side.

"Where are the professors and Aurors? Weren't they supposed to be on the train?" Harry asked when he joined them, gasping for air.

"When I came back to our compartment Neville told me that Luna went off to search for them. But it took her so long so we decided to go find her but there was no sign of her or the professors. When we looked outside Ginny and I figured we would be of better use here. Neville stayed to look for Luna." At Harry's worried look she added, "Luna and Neville can find their own way, they're tougher than they look."

Harry felt uncomfortable with the idea of a missing Luna and Neville, but nodded. He turned to Ginny.

"I thought I told you to stay in the compartment," Harry said irritated, though he was glad to see she  was unharmed.

"And let you have all the fun?" Ginny said with a wink that made Harry flush.

A curse shot his way but he couldn't turn quickly enough and didn't see it clearly. Ginny quickly reflected it and joined the battle.

"Hermione, my glasses -"

"Come here."

When he finally could see clearly he went back to fight. At this point he was soaked and the ground became slippery.

It was then that he saw her. She was cackling madly and seemed to have spotted him too.

"Aw, there we have our wittle, baby Potter again," she mocked him, her filthy, black hair sticking to her face and her crazy eyes shining with delight.

"Lestrange," Harry felt his anger rise up in him again full force. He vaguely registered the arrival of the Hogwarts professors but it didn't matter anymore. He wanted nothing more than to get back at this woman for what she did to Sirius.

She ran away, laughing at him and teasing him, towards the bridge. He followed her with determined strides, not stopping to think of how stupid he was for letting her lead him away from the battle.

They stood face to face on the stone bridge, rain pouring down, trying to provoke one another to take the first step.

"What's the matter Harry? Don't you want to play with me?" Bellatrix called from the other end of the bridge.

Harry stayed still, his mind searching for the most harmful curses he knew. Bellatrix pouted at Harry's lack of reaction.

"I had much more fun with your godfather. It's a shame I murdered him. But no matter, I will remember him as the always playful cousin. Don't you want to avenge him Harry? Go on, take your revenge. Hurt me. We both know you have it in you, Harry. I could even teach you. You could become just like me."

Harry felt like throwing up at that thought, but her remark hit a little too close to home. He did use the Cruciatus Curse once. And it failed horribly as he was overcome by grief. Would he try it now he was sure he would succeed. He could feel the dark rage whirling within him, a feeling that detached him from anything else. This was raw power, and had the potential of truly hurting someone. Would he dare use it? Would it make him go dark? Did he even care anymore?

"Didn't you love him Harry?"

Balling his fists and tightening his grip on his wand he took a step forward. Bellatrix lashed out immediately with two curses shot rapidly after one another. Harry evaded the first but felt the second grace his shoulder and a searing pain shot through his arm. He quickly shot a stunner her way but she evaded it easily.

The curses and jinxes were going back and forth between the two. Harry managed to cut Bellatrix's cheek while he felt his shoulder going numb. A simple but fast depulsing spell sent Harry stumbling  and sliding towards the edge of the bridge. The slippery surface caused him to lose his balance and he slid off the edge. He tried to grab the stone side but his wounded shoulder didn't react fast enough and he fell off the bridge. Quickly reaching out with his good arm, he managed to grab the edge and dangled dangerously.

"Look at baby Potter now," Bellatrix came to the edge and looked him in the eye, "Doing dangerous stunts, tsk tsk." She threw her head back and laughed madly.

Then all of a sudden she was thrown off her feet and landed a few yards away. Harry looked around and saw a slender man, whom he didn't recognise, with narrowed eyes as if he was a fox hunting for its prey. His hair was greying and he looked to be in his late 50s. He was caught up in a fight with Bellatrix who had stood up rather quickly and curses flew back and forth.

Meanwhile Harry was losing the feeling in his hand and knew he couldn't hold on for much longer. Just as he felt like losing his grip entirely, a strong hand closed around his arm and hoisted him over the edge of the bridge.

"Get back, Potter."

Great. Snape of all people. He was pushed towards the direction of the train where he saw his friends and the Hogwarts professors and Aurors. Just as he was about to join them, a vicious coloured curse shot his way but he wasn't quick enough.

Then suddenly Snape was there and Harry was thrown to the ground from where he could see the curse flying past him.

Snape glared at him and stood up brushing the dirt and mud off his black robes.

"Why is it, Potter, that every time you manage to get yourself in trouble, I'm the one whose hands get dirty?"

Harry really wanted to point out that it wasn't his fault Death Eaters had attacked the train but held his tongue when he saw Snape's dangerous glare directed at him.

The unknown man was still fighting Bellatrix with the agility of a sly predator.

"Crucio!" Bellatrix shrieked.

The man ducked aside easily.

"Avada Kedavra!" She began to get desperate.

The man spun on his feet and vanished before the Killing Curse could hit its target, leaving Bellatrix angry and confused. When he reappeared behind her, she had no time to turn around and was hit in the back with a Disarming Charm, her wand flying away. He walked towards her casually but kept his wand trained on the back of her head.

"Where is your insane laughter now, I wonder, Mrs. Lestrange," the man said gleefully with absolutely no physical sign that he had just duelled her.

Bellatrix seemed to smirk at that and Harry thought it looked quite unnatural on her features. In the blink of an eye she disapparated. The man appeared shocked for a moment but quickly smoothed out his expression and lowered his wand.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kingsley come running towards the man to discuss the events. They shook hands and Kingsley bent down to pick up Bellatrix's wand. He then proceeded to interrogate the man on his duel with Bellatrix. 

Snape walked back to the train and Harry followed him, not realising how far they had strayed from the rest. He looked around and saw that other students had come out of the train to see what was going on. The rain had reduced to a drizzle by now and Harry only just started to feel the cold wind on his body. 

Aurors were talking in hushed voices, looking disappointed and deflated. Apparently the rest of the Death Eaters had fled as well and not a single one had been captured. Harry felt a twinge of frustration.

One of the Aurors climbed up on a large rock and tried to get everyone's attention.

"Attention please!" He yelled through the dark sky. Students started to gather round and Harry saw Luna and Kai-Enna jump out of the train and realized they had been absent during the attack.
When they came closer Harry could see that Luna's hair was a mess and she had little scratches all over her arms and cheeks.

"There you are, where were you? What happened?" Ginny asked them looking shocked at Luna's appearance.

"I don't really remember. One minute I was in the back of the train looking for help, and next thing I know Kai was waking me up and I had scratches all over me."

She didn't look particularly shocked or upset about this strange experience but then again, nothing probably would shock Luna. Except, perhaps, the revelation that all those weird creatures she comes up with don't exist in this world.

Kai-Enna just shrugged and said she found Luna that way but had not seen what happened.

The Auror began speaking in a loud voice and checked if everyone could hear him.

"Alright, listen up everybody. I want to organize things as efficiently as possible so that you can all get to Hogwarts safely and quickly. All injured students, please step away from the train. You will be apparated to Hogsmeade, from where you will get immediate treatment or set off for the hospital wing in Hogwarts Castle. All other students will go back inside the train and wait until we have received new orders. No student is allowed to leave by himself, so please assess your condition and act accordingly."  The Auror stepped off the stone and went to instruct the other Aurors.

Harry saw Ron and Hermione turn towards the train with the others and went to follow them. A firm hand on his right shoulder, the one that wasn't injured, prevented him from closing the distance between him and his friends. One glance over his shoulder was enough to make him groan in frustration.

"Don't act the hero, Potter, I saw your arm," Snape sneered.

"It's nothing sir," Harry said as he tried to free his shoulder from Snape's grip to no avail.

"I'll be the judge of that." 

Snape steered him away from the train and towards the group of Aurors and teachers who now began to apparate the most severely injured students away.

"Sir, with all respect I think the infirmary will be busy enough as it is. And I can get treatment later, it really isn't that big of a deal."

But Snape ignored him and went to stand on a deserted spot a small distance away from the others.
He held out his arm and shot Harry an impatient glance. Harry slowly and reluctantly put his hand on Snape's outstretched arm, knowing he would not be able to convince the stoic man that he could stay. The second he touched the fabric of the man's robe he felt a nauseating tug behind his navel.

The Aurors, the students, the train, the bridge and the mountains all disappeared as if someone threw a bucket of water at a just finished painting. Harry felt like he was drowning in the mixture of colours as he and Snape where turning rapidly towards their destination. He closed his eyes tightly to shut out the oppressive feeling and panicked when he couldn't breathe properly, when he felt they were slowing down. Without warning Harry was thrown on the ground and landed face first in the grass that surrounded them.

He did not want to let go of the perfectly clear sensation of fresh air flowing through his lungs and the scent of the grass and the wet earth. It made the nausea go away. So he kept laying there, on the ground, with his eyes closed.

"Are you going to lay there all day or should I move the infirmary out here?"

Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes.

"I should have known that precious Potter would want the whole world to be at his beck and call."

Harry let out a frustrated sigh and pushed himself off the ground with his good arm. Snape was already stalking towards the castle. Harry had half a mind of staying right where he was and disobey Snape's order, but that probably wouldn't go over well. So he stood up and dragged himself along behind Snape.      

Once inside Hogwarts Harry expected Snape to leave him to walk up to the infirmary on his own. But Snape said nothing as he walked with long, decisive steps in the direction of the Hospital Wing.

When they arrived at the infirmary, Madam Pomfrey was bustling around helping out several students who had minor cuts and bruises. Albus Dumbledore stood to the side and turned towards them when they entered. His long, purple-coloured robes swivelled around him with the movement. Harry thought he saw relief in the old wizard's eyes as he took in their presence.

"Harry, Severus, it's good to see you both in one piece," he said with a warm voice and a twinkle in his eyes.

Snape nodded curtly and Harry muttered a "hullo professor."

Madam Pomfrey rushed towards Harry and looked him over. "Of course, Mr. Potter. You were the only student missing from my growing collection. I'm afraid your usual bed is taken up by another student."

Harry felt his cheeks burn and ducked his head. Dumbledore chuckled and Snape rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"That's okay Madam Pomfrey, I don't intend to stay. It's just a cut," Harry offered, hoping to persuade her into letting him go shortly.

Madam Pomfrey tutted at him. "Let's first take a look at it before jumping to conclusions." She pointed at a stool near the one of the windows. "Sit."

Harry reluctantly dragged himself to the stool and sat down.

"Severus, a word with you in my office?" Dumbledore said to Snape, who nodded in return and they both turned and left the Infirmary.

Harry watched them leave and wondered what things the two men would talk about and he wished he had a way to listen in to their conversation. A jab in his shoulder brought him painfully back to his spot in the Infirmary as he let out a hiss of pain.

"Just a cut, eh?" Madam Pomfrey smirked triumphantly.

Harry visibly sagged on the stool, wishing this day would be over already.

--

Severus found himself wishing this day would be over already. His shoulders were tense and he felt an annoying headache creeping up on him from the back of his head. Knowing that this day was far from over did nothing to improve his mood. And neither did those ridiculous pleasantries Albus always insisted on exchanging at the start of every conversation.

"Lemon drop, Severus?" Albus asked merrily and held up the bowl of brightly coloured candy for Severus to take.

Severus glared at him and crossed his arms over his chest. "Cut it out, Albus. We have important things to discuss."

Albus merely nodded and moved to sit behind his desk. With a wave of his hand he indicated that Severus should take a seat as well. Severus, however, chose to stay standing feeling the need to work off some pent up energy.

Albus started off. "Thank you for bringing Harry back safely."

Severus uncrossed his arms with a huff and walked over to the window of the Headmaster's office. "That goes without saying," he waved off.

"Nevertheless," Albus replied. "I am glad you were there."

"It would not have been necessary if you had allowed me to take the boy directly to the castle," Severus said heatedly.

"Harry needs to be able to be a teenager, a chance to be normal. Besides, it helps student morale to see him on the train, just like any other student."

"When are you going to stop coddling the boy?" Severus asked sneeringly as he gripped the windowsill, still not looking at the headmaster.

"I have committed incomparable sins with regards to him Severus. I am inclined to hold his happiness and mental sanity in higher regard than I have done previously."

Severus whirled around and looked at the headmaster incredulously. "At the cost of his life?"

Albus eyes turned sad and lost their twinkle. "I wish the one would not have to be given up in favour of the other. I know the risks of course..."

"Do you? Do you truly know the risks, not only to the Potter brat, but to other students as well? And to your staff?"

"Do not presume me to be ignorant of all the risks connected to this war, as it falls upon my shoulders to continuously weigh them and make decisions based on them. It is a burden I would not wish upon anyone else." Albus admonished with a stern note to his voice.

Severus glared at him for a moment longer before relenting and looking away. "Yes, of course Albus."

He turned back towards the window and looked out over the grounds surrounding Hogwarts. It was the only thing he sometimes missed in his quarters in the dungeons, though he often preferred the damp darkness they provided.

Albus came around his desk and stood in front of it, facing Severus. "There was no indication this attack was to come?" He asked with sympathy for his young friend.

Severus shook his head, hanging it low. "Nothing. No hint whatsoever."

"Do you think he has lost his trust in you?" Albus asked with a hint of worry.

Severus took several minutes to think that over. Albus thankfully waited patiently for him to sort his thoughts. He went over all his encounters with the Dark Lord, the times his mind was penetrated by him and the memories he had allowed the monster to see to support the stories he and Albus so carefully prepared. He found nothing compromising his position.

"No," he said determinedly after a few minutes. "I still have his trust."

He turned around and faced Albus once more, his brow furrowed in a frown. "But it might be a test."

Albus nodded, as if he had expected this already.

"It is imperative that we find out the reason for his secrecy. He is playing his cards close to his chest and if he suspects you in any way Severus, then we should think about pulling you out."

"Nonsense Albus," Severus hissed without malice. "I will maintain my role as a spy until the very end. Do not force me to prematurely give up my sole purpose in this war."

Albus looked at him with sad eyes. "Being a spy is not your only role in life, Severus."

"It is the only role I'm willing to take on. I will see this war to an end,  whatever the cost. I'm sure no one would mind me risking my own life to gain the upper hand over our enemies."

"I would," Albus said quietly but determinedly.

Severus looked away, unable to look his old friend and mentor in the eye. "I know."

"Our past can be our biggest motivator, but it also has the ability to drag us down. Remember that, Severus," Albus said knowingly.

Severus remained silent at that, not really wanting to get into a discussion about that, knowing he could not win.

"Kingsley will be here shortly with his report," Albus said with a finality, all hint of their emotional connection gone.

Severus gave him a curt nod. "I will do what is necessary to gain more information."

"Be safe, Severus."

Before Severus could leave the office, there was a knock at the door. Kingsley entered the office with Tonks in tow.

"Albus, Severus," he greeted them politely before retrieving something from his robes and putting it carefully on the Headmaster's desk.

"We found Bellatrix Lestrange's wand at the site of the attack," Kingsley said as he stepped back from the desk.

Severus frowned as he looked at the wand on the desk. He looked up and locked eyes with Albus, who had come to the same conclusion. That is not Bellatrix's wand...

"I will take my leave then Headmaster," Severus said curtly and turned towards the door.

He heard Albus voice turn to Kingsley before he shut the door behind him. "Please, sit down and tell me all that transpired this afternoon."

Severus walked swiftly down the castle stairs to the Entrance Hall. He longed to make a turn for his quarters to drink a glass of very strong Firewhisky, but he had a job to do.

He walked out the grand doors and crossed the grounds with a purposeful stride until he reached the edge of the anti-apparition wards. He took a second to check his mental barriers and then apparated away.

----

When he was released from the hospital wing, Harry went straight to the Entrance Hall where his friends would arrive any minute. When he got there he saw that more students were waiting for their classmates. There was a group of three Ravenclaws silently talking together with their heads bend, a fifth year girl from Hufflepuff who was reading a book and was seated on the last step of the staircase and a frightened looking small boy who Harry assumed to be a first year. And then there was Malfoy, leaning against the banister of the grand staircase, smirking and looking directly at Harry. Deciding not to pay any attention to the twerp, Harry headed straight towards the Great Hall to wait for his friends there.

"You'd better watch yourself, Potter."  Harry froze on the spot at Malfoy's voice. He glared over his shoulder at the blonde boy.

With a smug smile at having caught Harry's attention, he continued. "I'm sure you figured out who they were after."

"Shut it, Malfoy," Harry snarled.

"It's unfortunate the Aurors came when they did. But mark my words, next time you won't be that lucky. One day someone will catch you unawares. Be ready for it."

"Is that a threat Malfoy?" Harry took an angry step towards his rival. Malfoy took a step forward as well, so there were only an arms' length apart.

"Make of it what you will," Malfoy sneered.

Before Harry could react the doors to the Entrance Hall opened and students streamed in, effectively ending their confrontation as Malfoy slipped away.

Harry filed the short conversation away to mull over later as he sought out his friends. When he spotted Ron's vibrant red hair he quickly made his way through the crowd to get to them.

"Harry!" Hermione called when she spotted him as well. Harry reached them and put his arms around both of their shoulders.

"We were so worried about you, we couldn't find you anywhere on the train." Hermione said.

"We figured you must either be injured... or worse," Ron added solemnly.

"Well, I wanted to stay with you guys, but Snape made me come to Hogwarts," Harry said.

Ron shuddered at that and Harry laughed, feeling relieved to be reunited with his friends and looking forward to the Welcoming Feast now that all the action was over.

They went into the Great Hall and took their seats across from Neville, Dean and Seamus, who looked more excited than stricken at the events.

"Did you guys see all that? An explosion, and then Stunning spells and shields everywhere!" Seamus said excitedly.

"We were there too, you know," Ron reminded him.

Seamus went on, ignoring Ron's comment. "Hannah and Susan helped Ernie and then me and Justin joined the fight, defending them but also driving those bastards back. It felt so empowering!"

Dean smirked at his friend before turning to the trio. "You know, I think I saw all of the DA members from last year holding their own today. I would've never thought we would need to use those things you taught us Harry. Today just made all of last year's efforts... real. You know what I mean?"

The others nodded their heads in agreement. None of them had hoped they would need the defensive and offensive skills, ever. Today they all felt that times were changing.

"You will continue the DA this year, won't you Harry?" Seamus inquired hopefully.

"Er... I haven't really... considered that yet," Harry stammered.

"Aw come on Harry! This is what we need to be able to stand up for ourselves, you said so yourself!"

"Well...yeah, but that was because there was no one else to teach us anything useful," Harry replied, unsure why he felt this reluctant to take on his teacher role again.

Seamus wanted to respond to that but was interrupted by McGonagall's call for attention.

They watched as the first years timidly walked through the aisle of the Great Hall. They looked even more fear-stricken than usual, but Harry figured the attack on the train had a lot to do with that. For a second, Harry was surprised to see a familiar face among the group of first years, but then realised that Kai-Enna would need to be sorted as well. Although she towered above the first years, she did look just as nervous as they were.

As the sorting ceremony began, Harry took the opportunity to take in the staff table. Dumbledore was seated in the middle like always, looking decidedly cheerful as he smiled at each new student stepping forward to be sorted. The two seats next to him were empty. McGonagall was leading the sorting ceremony of course. With a glance along the staff table Harry realised that Snape was not present. With a frown he wondered what could have lead the man to be absent from the Welcoming Feast. He shuddered to think it might have something to do with the attack and his role as a spy for Dumbledore.

Harry then took notice of a new face, probably the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. It was the man that had duelled with Bellatrix this afternoon. His thin frame, dirty blonde hair with large strokes of white, and pointed nose were unmistakable. His features reminded him a little of a fox. He seemed to be a friendly kind of person as he too smiled at the nervous first years, even gave some of them the thumbs up in encouragement. Harry decided he would thread carefully with this man, having already had more than enough experience with imposters and such.

When Kai-Enna was sorted into Hufflepuff, Harry clapped along with the rest as he watched her take a seat at the Hufflepuff table. She was smiling but looked just a little bit disappointed.

After everyone was sorted Dumbledore stood up and the student body fell silent.

"To all our new students, welcome! To all our old students, welcome back to yet another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A year of magical education awaits you in hopes of turning each and every one of you into knowledgeable and responsible witches and wizards."

"As usual, I will remind you all of some of the rules that apply during your time at Hogwarts. The Forbidden Forest, that borders the edges of Hogwarts grounds, is as the name suggests strictly off limits to students of all years. Curfew is at 21:30 by which time you all should be in your dormitories. I ask you to take these rules very seriously."

Dumbledore's voice turned significantly darker and the students were so silent, one would wonder if they even breathed.

"As I am sure you are aware of by now, especially after the events of this afternoon, dark times are ahead of us. We will all play a part in what is to come and abiding by Hogwarts rules is one thing that would make that easier on all of us. Furthermore, it is imperative that we prepare ourselves as diligently as possible. One never knows when the time may come that we are faced with things that used to be unthinkable. Much as the events that took place this afternoon. You may be faced with the choice of helping yourself, or a loved one. This choice is quite possibly the hardest one of all and we cannot help you with it. We will, however, make sure that you will be armed with confidence in you own magical abilities, with which you will be able to make a thought-out decision. Whatever side of the war you are on."

Now Harry was sure everyone held their breaths, as Dumbledore deliberately paused for dramatic effect.

"On that note, I am pleased to introduce you to our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Phannicus Braden!"

The fox-like man stood up and waved at the students with a jovial smile. The students applauded, though lacking in enthusiasm.

"In addition to the regular Defence lessons with Professor Braden, we will provide you with Practical Magic workshops that will be available a couple of times during the year and will be taught by a variety of teachers. These lessons will not only cover magical skill, but will also focus on teamwork, problem solving, communication and learning from failure. Skills that are crucial to your survival and very useful in your future life as an adult witch or wizard. Your Heads of House will provide you with the timetable for these lessons tomorrow morning."

"Bloody brilliant," Ron muttered as Seamus elbowed Dean in excitement.

Dumbledore smiled as he opened his arms wide. "Now only one thing remains to be said: Dig in!"

As if on cue the food appeared on the tables magically and the loud buzz of chattering students and clinging cutlery began.

"I don't know about you, but it looks like Dumbledore got his pieces in order this year," Ron said as he loaded his plate with roast beef.

Harry nodded in agreement, finally feeling like they would have enough opportunity to prepare themselves for the war.

Hermione, however, bit her lip. "This will add so much work to our already loaded schedules."

Ron looked at her incredulously. "Are you serious? I'd much rather have those practical lessons than boring old History of Magic."

"I don't think you understand, Ron. We're NEWT students now. All of our subjects will be ten times the work they were in previous years and so much more advanced as well..."

"Well, you should have just dropped more subjects then," Ron said smugly.

Hermione looked at him in shock as if that suggestion bordered on the unthinkable. The others snickered at their bickering.

"I'm just glad that they finally thought of something to help us prepare for the war," Harry said as the laughter died down.

The others nodded in agreement.

"Hey, even though we no longer need the DA to learn new things, we could still get together and practise the stuff they teach us, right?" Seamus proposed.

They turned to Harry with hopeful eyes, waiting for his confirmation.

"Yeah, that could work," Harry said with a shrug.

Seamus gave a fist pump.

"Great, it'll be fun! The best way to take our minds off schoolwork." Seamus grinned at Hermione who threw a half-hearted scowl his way.

As the chatter turned to the subject of house points and the Quidditch Cup, Harry tuned out. Practising spells and curses, duelling with dark wizards, preparing yourself for war. It were things that were much more real to Harry than they were to his classmates and Seamus' last remark had made him painfully aware of it. To them it was fun, some nice activity to spend your free time on. To him, it really meant the key to his survival. The realization made him suddenly feel a lot more distanced from his classmates and the thought depressed him.

"Hello? Harry!"

Harry snapped out of his thoughts and saw that everyone was looking at him.

"Sorry, what?"

"Quidditch Harry! You are going to take over the Captain's position, right?" Ron asked animatedly.

This time Harry felt no doubt at all. This was exactly the kind of normal thing he needed right now. And after his ban on Quidditch last year, he couldn't wait to get back in the game.

"Yes," he said with confidence.

"Excellent! Now, we need to discuss try-outs. We need new chasers, beaters..."

The rest of the evening was happily filled with discussions about the players for Gryffindor and different strategies that were to lead them to the Quidditch Cup again this year. When the feast ended they left the Great Hall to retreat to their Common Rooms. At the bottom of the stairs Harry was halted by Professor McGonagall.

"Mr. Potter,  a moment please. I received your letter regarding your OWL scores. I have them here with me." She handed him an envelope with a broken seal.

"I have enclosed a list of the subjects I recommend you take this year with regards to your career choice. Also there is a form in there that you can use to order the necessary books and supplies. I have informed the staff of your situation but nevertheless I advise you to order your supplies as soon as possible."

"I will, thank you Professor," Harry replied, dreading to open the envelope.

Professor McGonagall seemed to read his mind and smiled at him knowingly. "Don't worry, Potter. It is definitely not as dramatic as you might think."  With that she continued on her way.

When Harry and his friends reached the Gryffindor Common Room, they found empty seats near the fireplace and settled in. Harry took out the envelope that contained his OWL scores and hesitated to open it. What if his grades weren't good enough to get into the NEWT classes required to become an Auror? What would he do if he couldn't get into the Auror programme? He couldn't imagine doing anything else than hunting down dark wizards...

"Come on Harry, McGonagall said not to worry. Open it!" Hermione said encouragingly.

Harry slowly opened the envelope and unfolded the parchments inside.

ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL RESULTS               

Pass Grades: Outstanding (O)
Exceeds Expectations (E)
Acceptable (A)

Fail Grades:
Poor (P)
Dreadful (D)
Troll (T)

Harry James Potter has achieved the following scores:
Astronomy: A
Care of Magical Creatures: E
Charms: E
Defence Against the Dark Arts: O
Divination: P
Herbology: E
History of Magic: D
Potions: O
Transfiguration: A

Harry read the parchment through several times, feeling his nervousness drain away each time. He had done pretty well. His scores for Divination and History of Magic were to be expected. He had no clue about anything Professor Trelawny told them in Divination and quite frankly thought that a Poor was still a very high score for that subject. Given that he had collapsed halfway through the History exam, there was no surprise there either. And he had passed everything else, even got two Outstanding scores! And for Potions no less!

Another realization hit him as he let his finger slide over his Potions grade. It was good enough. Good enough to be accepted in Snape's NEWT class and if he passed that it would be his ticket into the Auror programme. He sighed in relief. One less thing to worry about.

"And? How did you do?" Hermione asked, barely able to contain her curiosity.

"Not bad at all," Harry said as he handed her the parchment with a smirk.

"These are great scores Harry," Hermione said as her eyes roved over the parchment. Ron looked over her shoulder at Harry's results.

"Blimey mate, an O in Defence AND Potions?"

"Yeah, I guess somewhere hidden deep down I do have a knack for Potions," Harry grinned at him.

"Ha, or you got lucky," Ron teased him.

"You can't pass an OWL on luck alone Ron," Hermione said as she handed the parchment back to Harry.

"Yeah, well I for one happen to know Potions is not Harry's favourite subject and if we have to believe Snape he is an "incompetent buffoon" when it comes to brewing," Ron said in a voice that imitated the dour Potions Professor.

"Argh, that's the only downside to all this," Harry waved his results in the air. "I have two more years of Snape to endure, assuming he doesn't kick me out before that."

Ron sat back in his chair with crossed feet and his hands resting leisurely on the back of his head.

"I don't envy you that at all," he said with a smirk. "Dropping Potions is what is going to make this the best school year I've had so far."

"If I didn't aspire to be an Auror, I would've dropped Potions as well," Harry admitted. "Regardless of that Outstanding."

"If it's any consolation, I will be taking Potions as well. You won't have to endure it alone," Hermione jumped in.

"I know of something that will be an even better consolation," Ron said with a grin.

"What's that?" Harry asked.

"Snape will probably be just as unhappy having you in his class for two more years as you are."

Harry laughed at that, but had a nagging feeling that Snape would fully use that time to vent his anger and dislike on him.

The rest of the evening was spent in relative peace. Harry filled in the forms to order his supplies as Ron and Hermione listened to Lavender and Parvati's summer stories. Just before midnight they all retreated to their dormitories. To Harry it felt like coming home, and after the trying day they had had, he wanted nothing more than to rest his head on that soft pillow.

After having changed into pyjamas, Harry drew back the sheets to climb into bed. At that moment a stab of pain shot through his head and he doubled over with a hiss.

"You okay Harry?" Ron asked as he sat up in his own bed.

Harry rubbed at his scar, the pain was mercifully already receding. He looked at Ron with a reassuring look.

"It's fine," he said and climbed in bed. "It's just been a long day."

Ron's concerned look lasted a few seconds longer, but then he too laid down in bed. "I hear you. Lucky no one got seriously hurt."

"Yeah." Harry frowned. "What do you think was going on with the professors and aurors back there? What took them so long you reckon?"

Ron propped his head up on his hand and frowned in thought. "That was weird. I can't imagine them not noticing the attack or something."

"Something must have held them back. Or someone," Harry said thoughtfully.

"Thing is, no one really saw anything though."

"Yeah, and I don't think any of the professors will be forthcoming with more information," Harry said bitterly. "They'll keep their secrets."

Ron yawned. "Perhaps it's for the best. Nothing we can do about it now anyway. G'night Harry." Ron drew his curtains closed.

Harry lay on his back and looked up at the ceiling of his bunk bed. Sleep evaded him as he wondered what had caused his connection with Voldemort to momentarily flare up like that. He had felt no particular emotion and nothing like a vision had come through. If it had something to do with the attack on the train, he imagined Voldemort would be livid that his followers had failed yet again. But he had not felt any anger. But he wasn't particularly happy either. He decided it was just too confusing to think about.

He turned to lay on his side and closed his eyes, trying to rid his mind of all thoughts of evil wizards or train attacks.     

Severus stepped towards the gates of Malfoy Manor and rested his hands on the cool metal. Once he felt the wards recognize and accept him he took a step back to allow the iron gates to open magically. With confidence he crossed the grounds and entered the mansion.

"Severus!"

"Good evening, Narcissa," Severus said in greeting.

"What are you doing here Severus," Narcissa hissed as she closed a door behind her and walked swiftly toward him.

"I need to see Lucius," Severus replied curtly, giving nothing away.

"My husband is... otherwise engaged," Narcissa said hesitantly as she glanced at the closed door to the drawing room for a second of a fraction.

Severus narrowed his eyes at the door as well, concluding that whatever it was Lucius was doing, he was doing it in the drawing room. He took a few steps toward it, fully intending to yank open the door and find out what this secrecy was about, but a firm hand around his arm stopped him.

"Please, Severus," Narcissa whispered desperately.

Severus frowned at the blonde woman, who he had know for such a long time. What is she hiding?

"Let him know I'm here and waiting for him in the library," Severus said finally. He pulled out of Narcissa's grasp and went to the library of Malfoy Manor. He had been there many times before and he liked the look and feel of it. The room in itself was somewhat dark, the bookcases a deep ebony colour and the lounge chairs emerald and grey. He sat down in one of them and used his wand to start a fire in the hearth. It gave him something to do while he waited and the vibrant dancing flames helped him collect his thoughts.

The Malfoys were obviously hiding something and, judging by the fear he saw in Narcissa's eyes, he figured the Dark Lord must not be privy to these secrets. This surprised him, for he knew Lucius well. And Lucius was not one to blatantly lie to his master. Lucius was fairly adept at Occlumency, but nowhere near experienced enough to keep the Dark Lord from finding out his deepest, darkest secrets. So whatever it is they were hiding was either something that happened very, very recently. Or... they were being blackmailed.

Before Severus had time to ponder that thought further, the door opened and Lucius strode in, lacking the desperation and fear his wife had shown earlier.

"Good evening, Severus," he said smoothly as he sat down in the opposite chair and snapped his fingers. A house elf appeared with glasses and a bottle of dark brown and welcoming liquid. Though Severus had longed for a drink, he knew he had to tread lightly to keep his mind sharp and focused.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your late visit?" Lucius asked as he filled their glasses.

Severus raised his glass at him in appreciation and took a small sip, relishing the burning feeling lingering in his throat.

"I'm surprised you have to ask," he said, keeping his eyes on Lucius to look for a reaction.

Lucius' lips pursed almost imperceptibly, but it convinced Severus that he knew more than he was willing to let on.

"If you are referring to the events earlier today, I'm afraid I must disappoint you in your quest for information."

"You do realise, I presume, that your son will be under my care and supervision the entire school year?"

At this Lucius visibly flinched and Severus knew he had him. Lucius put his glass down on the table hard, the sound reverberated through the room. He glared at the black-haired man, but Severus did not move an inch.

"What do you want, Severus?" Lucius hissed, all air of politeness vanished.

"I need to know why I was not told of the attack today. As we are both among the most trusted of the Dark Lords followers, that either means that the Dark Lord himself did not know or something else prevented him from telling us."

"Perhaps our master has lost his trust in you Severus."

"If he did, I would not be sitting here drinking whiskey with you."

Lucius looked away for a moment.

"What makes you think I have more information? I know as much as you do."

"Do not take me for a fool, Lucius," Severus said evenly. "Give me a little more credit for my perceptiveness. You know more than you're letting on. And something tells me you did not share with our master."

Lucius' eyes widened in panic. He fumbled with the bottle and spilled some whiskey as he tried to refill his glass. He took a long gulp and grimaced as the burning liquid passed his throat. The drink seemed to give him back some confidence.

"There is no keeping secrets from the Dark Lord. You of all people know that," he said.

Severus leaned back in his chair and regarded Lucius through narrowed eyes.

"I do know that. Which is why it is so utterly surprising to me to see you, of all people, so desperately trying to conceal whatever secret you have. And if I can perceive this, how on earth were you planning on keeping the Dark Lord obscured of the truth?"

Lucius stood up abruptly and turned away to stare at the fire. He was silent for minutes before he finally turned around and faced Severus once more.  This time, the desperation showed brightly in the blonde man's eyes.

"It's Draco, Severus. He's not safe," Lucius said, barely able to contain the panic in his voice.

Severus frowned and narrowed his eyes in thought.

"You are being blackmailed," he stated.

Lucius bowed his head in acquiescence.

"By whom?"

Lucius kept quiet and Severus sighed as he leaned forward in his seat.

"Lucius, you know it is impossible to deceive the Dark Lord. It is futile to believe you can best him in a mind game. There is no other choice but to come clean."

Lucius started pacing in front of the fire in agitation.

"There is an individual," he started, not looking at Severus.

When he did not continue, Severus prompted him with a raised eyebrow. "An individual?"

"Yes. I was lured to a pub in Perth under false pretences and was confronted by an individual whose name or appearance I cannot recall."

"You were confunded then." Severus stated.

Lucius nodded. "That was my deduction as well. Nevertheless the message was clear."

He stopped pacing and looked Severus right in the eye.

"He said an attack on the Hogwarts Express was due the 1st of September and that he needed someone to place a cursed object on the train to form a barrier between the students and the Aurors."

"Why did he chose to confide in you?"

"Because he knew I was close to the Dark Lord and he knew I would do anything to keep my son out of danger," Lucius scowled and started pacing again.

"He told me I was not to tell the Dark Lord, however and that they would hurt Draco if I didn't comply. I said he was making empty threats and asked him why I should not just curse him then and there and be done with it. Then he showed me a gazing Dark Orb and I saw Draco sitting in this very library, exactly where I had left him only minutes before. They had someone watching him and Narcissa. With just one word, they could be killed."

Lucius sat down again, having exerted all the pent up energy.

"Did he tell you why you were not to turn to our master with this information?"

Lucius shook his head. "He told me he had his reasons and that I was not in a position to be asking him these questions."

Severus leaned back in thought.

"I see the... predicament you find yourself in," He said. "However, by denying our master of the truth you are committing a serious betrayal."

Lucius rounded on him in fear and anger. "What would you do then Severus? If it were your son whom they threatened?"

"I am thankfully unacquainted with that phenomenon," Severus said. "But I swore loyalty to the Dark Lord and nothing, not even my own blood, would stray me from that path." He managed to put the utmost conviction in his words, though it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"And neither should it stray you from yours," he added.

Lucius paled and averted his eyes. "You're right, Severus. Of course you're right."

They were both quiet for a long time, giving each other the space to sort through their thoughts.

"Severus, you have to help us. Please help us protect Draco," Lucius demanded desperately.

Severus nodded at once. He always kept an eye out for Lucius' son while he was at school, this would be no different. He knew it would be harder to protect the boy from himself, as he aspired to take the Dark Mark and follow in the footsteps of his father. It would be a dark path for the young boy, one that would be difficult to escape from.

"Thank you, Severus. I don't know what I would do if...." Lucius' voice trailed off.

"Do not despair, Lucius," a high-pitched voice came from the doorway. Lord Voldemort stepped into the library, which suddenly felt dark and cold as if all the warmth had been sucked away by his appearance. He was clad in long, dark robes that hung around his frame like a veil of death. His feet were bare and made no sound as he moved towards the sitting area. He was followed by a pale and wide-eyed Narcissa from a distance.

Immediately the two men left their seats and knelt on the floor with bowed heads to greet their master. Voldemort ignored them and sat down in one of the chairs before waving his hand and permitting them to rise.

"My lord, I am honoured by your presence in my home," Lucius said.

Voldemort ignored the blonde man and instead looked at Severus. "I did not expect to see you here, Severus." His voice lacked malice but Severus heard the vexation hidden between the lines.

"Forgive me, my lord. I will not impose on you any longer and take my leave."

"No, you will stay. Now that you're here, I have things to discuss with you," the Dark Lord demanded.

"Of course, my lord." Severus bowed his head. He mentally checked the strength of his barriers in preparation.

"But first..." red eyes found Lucius' grey ones. "I feel I must address this... predicament."

He suddenly snapped his fingers at Narcissa who jumped in fear and quickly summoned the house elf to bring them some refreshments.

When the Dark Lord had his drink he turned his cold and malignant gaze on Lucius. Severus could see that his old friend tried his best not to shy away from his master's attention, but saw the beads of sweat shining on his forehead.

 "You do realise, that it was I who got you out of Azkaban," Voldemort started.

Lucius bowed his head even lower, his nose almost touching the carpet. "Of course, my lord. I will be forever in your debt," he said with a surprisingly even voice.

"And I did so even after you failed to retrieve the prophecy as I requested. Was I not generous? Was I not merciful?"

Lucius swallowed around a lump in his throat. "Yes, my lord, you were."

"Then you can imagine my surprise at hearing you discuss the possibility of betrayal tonight," Voldemort's red eyes narrowed maliciously.

Lucius looked up desperately. "Never, my lord! I would never betray you, I could not!"

"Yet you chose to withhold information from me? You toy with the idea of choosing your son, a boy, over the loyalty towards me? I, who have shown you far more mercy than you could ever deserve?" With each sentence his voice got higher and more dangerous.

"Please forgive me, my lord, for straying off the right path, the only path. Never again will you have reason to doubt my loyalty towards you. That is my pledge to you," Lucius said with a quiver of fear in his voice, his head once again low against the carpet in a desperate sign of obedience.

A minute of silence ensued as Voldemort took a slow sip from his glass. Severus felt a momentary flash of concern for the blonde man whimpering on the floor next to him but pushed it away. The fool had it coming and should have known better. It did not bode well for Lucius.

"Have no fear, Lucius," Voldemort suddenly said leisurely. "I happen to know all about this little secret of yours already."

Severus' eyes widened as he glanced at the evil wizard. This was the moment of truth. If the Dark Lord knew about the attack already, but hadn't told him... It could mean he truly did suspect him of betrayal. He felt his heartbeat quicken at the thought and occluded his mind to calm himself. He had known all along about the risks that came with the job of being a spy. And he would not cower in the face of sure death, but would face it headlong.

"My lord?" Lucius lifted his head in confusion.

"Not a week ago we were contacted by a person who offered his loyal servitude to me. Truthfully, I suspected Dumbledore to be behind this, trying to plant another spy in my midst without me knowing."

Voldemort locked eyes with Severus for a short moment and Severus felt his dark and demanding presence in his mind as he perused his memories. A second later the connection was broken and Voldemort appeared satisfied.

"When I searched his mind, however, there was only the naked truth of a man so desperate to belong somewhere that I welcomed him with open arms. But, I had to convince myself fully that his intentions were sincere. So I gave him the mission to attack the Hogwarts Express and he took it gladly. His only request was to be able to remain anonymous, internally among my followers, but also to the public eye. That way, he would be useful in other areas where more discretion is needed."

"Can we trust this person, my lord?" Severus asked.

Voldemort shifted his gaze toward Severus once more and held eye contact, though he did not re-enter his mind again.

"Trust is a dangerous game," he said quietly. Severus managed to repress a wince at those words, through sheer will.

"You are wondering why I did not tell you," Voldemort stated. "As I said, I do not give away my trust easily. Which is why I needed to know Dumbledore's reaction to these events, knowing that his true spy could not have told him beforehand. I needed to test this new man's loyalty without any outside interference."

Voldemort turned back towards Lucius who still knelt on the ground. "This man's loyalty was unwavering. But you, Lucius, failed my test."

"My lord?" Lucius" voice broke.

"After your miserable attempt at following my orders I was unsure what to do with you. I asked you to bring me the prophecy, yet once you had it in your possession you chose to linger, dancing around with Harry Potter in blatant ignorance of my orders. And then you got caught, putting all my plans at risk. If they had questioned you with the aid of Veritaserum, you would have spilled all of our secrets. Make no mistake, Lucius. That is the only reason I ordered an escape plan for you."

Lucius flinched hard at his words and braced himself.

"But I am a merciful master, and I will grant you another chance to redeem yourself," Voldemort said calmly and used his bony, white fingers to lift Lucius chin so he could look him in the eye.

"You will give me your son."

From the corner of his eye, Severus saw Narcissa flinch and put a hand to her mouth to stifle her gasp.

"This will be his last year at school, for he will join my ranks before next summer. He will regain your family's honour by becoming the youngest Death Eater ever to join my ranks. And he will show his father what true, unwavering loyalty really is."

"As you wish, my lord," Lucius replied quietly.

Voldemort let go of his chin and straightened himself again. "Good. And to make sure you won't forget... Crucio!" 

Lucius writhed and screamed on the floor of the library while Narcissa wept silently. Severus did not move and kept his expression neutral as he waited for the torture of his old friend to end.

Finally Voldemort lifted the curse and Lucius lay on the carpet, quietly whimpering in the after effects of the torturing curse. Then he turned back towards Severus.

"So, Severus, tell me about Dumbledore," he said casually, as if he hadn't just turned a grown man into a miserable heap of tears and sweat.

"Dumbledore was... surprised, to say the least, about the events that unfolded today," Severus said steadily.

"Was there any indication that he was notified in advance?"

"No, my lord. As soon as I returned from the attack site, he took me to his office and started questioning me. Questions I could only answer truthfully, due to your wise foresight."

Voldemort sneered. "The old fool must have been very surprised indeed, that we would dare attack the whole student population in broad daylight."

"I must confess, my lord," Severus said hesitantly. "That I fear Dumbledore might have become somewhat suspicious at the lack of information I was able to provide him with."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed. "A minor setback. It was worth finding out if my associate was sincere in his intentions to join our cause."

"I understand, my lord, and I am glad it brought you the desired results. However, I feel we must invest more in the old man's trust if we are to -"

"I will decide where we will invest in," Voldemort interrupted him with an angry hiss. "Like I said, trust is a dangerous game. Or have you forgotten that you too failed the tasks that were appointed to you?"

"Forgive my insolence, my lord," Severus said as he bowed, knowing there was nothing else he could say to diminish his master's anger.

"You thread on thin ice, my slippery friend," Voldemort continued in a low voice. "You failed to break Potter free of Dumbledore's grasp and now he is back at that damned castle and out of my reach for another year."

"There is no excuse for my failures, my lord," Severus said contrite.

"No, there isn't."  Voldemort stood up from his seat and set his empty glass down on the table.

"You will tell Dumbledore of our meeting tonight. Make sure he fears this new and anonymous threat. Fear will lead the old coot to make rash decisions and may give us another chance at getting the boy."

Severus bowed low. "Yes, my lord."

The Dark Lord stepped around Lucius, who hadn't moved from his place on the floor. He stopped next to Narcissa, whose cheeks were still tear-streaked.

"Do not despair, my dear Narcissa," Voldemort said, the words contradicting the lack of comfort in his voice. "I will offer Draco my protection, for as long as I have use for him."

"You are too generous, my lord," Narcissa said without a hitch.

Once the Dark Lord left, Narcissa went to help her husband off the floor. Severus helped to hoist him into a chair. He withdrew a small glass vial from his robes and offered it to the Malfoys. Narcissa took it as Lucius' hands still trembled heavily. Lucius looked up at Severus with feverish but determined eyes.

"Please Severus," he croaked with a hoarse voice. "Promise me you will keep an eye on Draco."

"You know I will not be able to prevent him from setting course on the path the Dark Lord has intended for him."

"I know." Lucius looked down in defeat. You wear your emotions on your sleeve when it comes to your son, my friend, Severus thought. You will not convince the Dark Lord of your loyalty to him with that liability. He did not voice this as he knew the couple before him would not cope well with this hard message. Instead he inclined his head.

"I will do what I can to keep him out of harm's way," he said. Then he turned and left the room with his robes billowing behind him.

Harry awoke with a racing heartbeat and his breath stuck in his throat. He realised immediately that it was still the middle of the night as the dormitory was pitch black and he could hear the soft snoring of his roommates behind his curtains.

He sat up and wiped the sweat from his face. He furrowed his brow as he tried to remember this dream, this vision. He remembered Voldemort's high-pitched voice and he was talking to Malfoy and... Snape? And he had hit Malfoy with the Cruciatus Curse because he had kept something from him. He remembered feeling Voldemort's vicious anger as he raised his wand towards the cowering blonde haired man. He shuddered. He would never get used to the experience of being the one to torture another human being.

And Voldemort was angry with Snape as well. For not bringing me to him, Harry thought. His concern for the Potions Master's loyalty was brought back to his consciousness. He was uncertain though, if this concern was his own or Voldemort's. If it was Voldemort's emotion, and Snape really was on the good side, then he was in danger of Voldemort finding out. If he was on Voldemort's side, however, and he really was tasked with taking Harry away from the safe haven of Headquarters...

But Harry shook his head in confusion and frustration. If Snape really was on the wrong side of the war, he had had plenty of opportunity to take him out of Grimmauld Place in the past few weeks. It would have been dead easy to slip him a potion or to curse him in his sleep. He felt a bit uncomfortable at the thought and heard Moody's grumbling voice in the back of his head. Constant vigilance...

When he got his heart rate under control he laid back down and turned on his side to try and fall back asleep again. Through peered eyes he saw the Owl Delivery form on the side table.

Because of the curfew rules, the first opportunity to go to the Owlery and send the form to the London Owl Delivery Service, was the next morning. He hoped his supplies would get there soon. He did not like being singled out in class for it and having his classmates ask questions about it.

That hope was shattered as they received their timetables the next morning at breakfast. Harry had just come back from the Owlery and sat down to fill his plate with toast and eggs, when McGonagall handed them the dreaded parchments.

"Mr. Potter, have you considered taking the classes I recommended for you?" McGonagall asked.

"Yes, Professor. I'll take all the classes you listed. But I noticed that Care of Magical Creatures wasn't on it."

"Five NEWTs is all you need Potter. In any case, your schedule will be packed as it is, with the added Practical sessions." 

When she saw his uncomfortable look, she leaned forward and said, "I have talked to Hagrid and I assure you he agreed wholly with dropping his class."

She rose again and added with a smirk, "as long as I made you three promise to visit him often."

Harry grinned and looked at the head table and searched Hagrid's eyes. Hagrid was already looking in their direction and raised his glass of pumpkin juice in salutation.

McGonagall tapped a parchment with the tip of her wand and gave it to Harry before continuing on her way.

Harry took one look at it and groaned.

"Wha izzit?" Ron said with a mouthful of sausage.

"Charms, Transfiguration and Potions today. All double classes."

"Mondays suck," Ron replied, though his timetable looked a lot better without Potions. Out of the three of them, Ron had decided to keep Care of Magical Creatures in his curriculum. He was still not sure what career he wanted to pursue but wanted to have the option to follow in Charlie's footsteps and go in the dragon business.

Hermione had of course taken the most number of classes, though she also dropped Care of Magical Creatures and History of Magic, wanting to either pursue a career in the Ministry or as an Healer. Though Harry rather thought she would excel at anything she put her mind to, brilliant as she was.

Charms class was easy enough in the sense that they spent their time on a revision of some charms they learned last year. Professor Flitwick assured them they would be needed to have them "fresh in your memories" for they were to move on to Nonverbal Spells during the first semester. So for the first half of the lesson they practiced the Disillusionment and Silencing Charm, which was needed for they found they were all a little rusty after the summer holidays. By the time Flitwick made them settle down and entered into a lively lecture on the workings of Nonverbal spells, all students had successfully performed both charms.

Professor Flitwick sent them off with a considerable load of homework and they grudgingly made their way to the first floor for Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall almost immediately started off a lecture on the immense difficulty of the N.E.W.T. Transfiguration class and the amount of work it would be to pass it.

"I expect all of you to put forth your very best effort. If you cannot move yourself to do that, then consider dropping this class," Professor McGonagall warned them ominously. 

Ron and Harry looked at each other with dismay, while Hermione actually managed to look a little excited.

Professor McGonagall introduced them to the topic of Human Transfiguration, a subject  that was apparently more difficult than any other form of Transfiguration. McGonagall warned them repeatedly about the dangers when this particular type of Transfiguration was done poorly, telling gruelling tales of people getting stuck in their transfigured state. When she went on to the scientific aspects of Human Transfiguration Harry barely understood half of what she said. He and Ron watched with bitter awe as Hermione scribbled down every word.

When they sat down in the Great Hall for lunch they were joined by Neville and Ginny, who immediately started complaining about the amount of work she had to do in preparation for her OWL's.

"OWL's are nothing compared to NEWT's," Ron protested.

"Yeah, you weren't joking when you said it would be the most difficult year yet, Hermione," Harry added as he took a chicken sandwich off the serving platter.

Hermione gave them an I told you so-look but didn't say anything more on the subject as she took out her notes and started marking the important parts.

Ginny eyed her and gave a smirk. "Say, Hermione, you wouldn't happen to have any notes left from last year?"

Hermione looked up. "Of course I do, I keep all my notes. It comes in handy for revising."

"Can you lend them to me?" Ginny asked sincerely. "I would ask my dear brother, but I have a feeling it would not do much for my educational progress."

Hermione grinned. "I don't think Ron keeps any of his notes, if he even has any at all. So sure, you can use mine."

"I'm right here, you know," Ron said with pursed lips.

The girls laughed at him and Harry's mood was lifted by the playful teasing of his friends. Unfortunately, that did not last long for they had Potions after lunch. Hermione and Harry left Ron and Ginny to make their way to the dungeons.

Snape was yet to arrive so the students took their seats and waited, murmuring amongst themselves. Harry and Hermione took their usual seats in the back of the classroom, though it didn't lessen the chance of Snape's ire reaching them. To their surprise, Neville came in and took a seat at the workbench next to them.

"Neville? You're taking Potions?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"Yeah," Neville said deflated as though he already questioned the wisdom of his choice. "I want to proceed in Herbology. Unfortunately that means I have to take Potions as well. I never expected to get an OWL in Potions, but somehow I did."

"I know how that feels," Harry replied sourly.

Neville chuckled. "You know, I do actually like Potions and the knowledge of the various ingredients is just as interesting to me as Herbology is. It's just... you know..." 

Harry nodded, knowing that he meant that Snape's presence put a damper on any enjoyment for the subject they might possess. Neville turned away to set up his supplies for the lesson and Harry couldn't help but let his thoughts drift to the prophecy. This boy... young man actually, he corrected, was among the bravest people he knew. He just realized that Neville, timid as he is, continuously faced his biggest fears head on. He did so in his first year when he stood up to the socially more adept trio and last year when he joined them on their rescue mission for a man whom he didn't even know! And today he willingly chose to face the chief among his nightmares, Professor Snape.

The prophecy could have been about him, he realised anew. It could have been this man in his school robes, anxiously laying his supplies out in front of him with a slight tremble in his hands. It could have been, Neville. And Harry would have had a normal live. Perhaps Snape would be his biggest fear.

Just as quickly as they had come, he pushed these depressing thoughts away. It does not do to dwell on dreams, Dumbledore had once said. He had no way of changing his fate so it wasn't worth depressing himself over what could have been. Either way, he would not wish this burden on anyone else, let alone Neville, who had become a close friend over the years.

Without warning the classroom door was swung shut behind a very ill-tempered Professor Snape, who strode purposefully to the front of the classroom. Harry saw Neville jump up in fear at the loud thud of the door. The class was completely quiet, nobody moved as they waited for Snape to start the lesson.

Snape stood watching them menacingly, arms crossed in the darkness of his black robes, waiting just long enough until the silence became unbearable to the students.

"As you are well aware of, by now," he started slowly, "the difficulty of classes this year has tripled compared to previous years. You can no longer just scrape by. Last-minute study sessions are equally out of the question."

Some of the students gulped.

"Somehow," he continued as his black eyes passed over each anxious face, "you have all managed to gain access to this class by an astounding moment of clarity during your OWL examinations. Clearly, hard work does seem to make up for a lack of intellectual capacity." His eyes lingered for a moment on Harry, who met them unflinchingly.

"However, luck will not get you through my NEWT class. I demand the utmost attention, dedication and commitment to my classes. I will not tolerate messy and careless work and neither will I condone laziness and anything less than your best effort. If you cannot meet my standards in these lessons, you will find yourself out of this class by next month. Indefinitely."

He uncurled his arms and gestured the door. "The door is there. Leave now if you are not prepared to give your full commitment here."

No one moved.

"Let us start then." Snape turned towards the blackboard and waved his wand. The name of today's potion appeared on it, along with some of its qualities and uses.

"We will start this year off with a Wound Cleaning Potion. As the name suggests it is a healing potion used to sterilise wounds as a powerful antiseptic. It smokes and stings upon contact with an open wound and may irritate sensitive and unscathed skin, which is why it should be applied with care. When brewed correctly it ends up as a purple liquid that is not too thick. You will write an essay about the properties and ingredients of this potion and other uses aside from healing, to be handed in next week. But, for this lesson you are going to try and brew the potion. The instructions are on page thirty-one of your textbook. Begin."

The students gathered their supplies and a few went to the cupboard to get extra ingredients, while Hermione opened her textbook first to study the instructions for preparing the potion.

"Potter, you don't seem to have your supplies with you," came the menacing voice over Harry's shoulder.

Harry turned in his seat to face the Potions Master.

"No, sir, but-"

"Do you consider yourself above the standard? Do you believe yourself to be so exceptional that you can do without instruction?"

"What? No!"

"Tell me, Potter, has your stroke of luck on last year's exams gotten to your head?"

"Professor, I-," Harry tried exasperatedly to get a few words in.

"I had not thought your ego could expand any further but you continue to surprise me."

"Professor McGonagall already informed you of this," Harry waved his arms at his empty desk in a desperate attempt to make Snape see reason. Of course, he could just as well have asked Voldemort to put on a pink summer dress and dance through the streets of London. It was impossible to change this man's opinion.

"I'm sick of your excuses, Potter," Snape grabbed his upper arm firmly and pulled him to his feet. Harry stumbled out of his seat but Snape held firm and, admittedly, quite painfully. He pulled Harry towards the front of the classroom. As they passed the Slytherins, Harry could hear Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson snickering.

Snape hurled him towards an empty workbench near his desk and the edge of the table connected painfully with Harry's knee. He clenched his teeth to avoid making any sound and sat down heavily on the stool. Snape conjured a cauldron and set it down in front of Harry with a resounding noise.

"You will prepare your potion here, Potter. Alone. Apparently you have no need for anything else to aid you."

And with that Snape swept away, probably off to torture another unsuspecting student. Harry was left gaping at the empty cauldron in front of him and felt his temper rise. He gripped the edge of the table to keep his hands from trembling and to prevent himself from flinging the cauldron across the classroom. What the hell was his problem? He knew exactly why Harry did not have any supplies with him, yet he chose to take the opportunity to belittle and ridicule him. It was just like Snape to torment him every chance he got.

"Problem, Potter?" Snape suddenly appeared in front of his workbench and sneered down at him.

Harry glared at him. "No," he said defiantly through clenched teeth.

Snape put his hands on either side of the cauldron and leaned forward over the table, his eyes glinting dangerously.

"You will show me respect and call me sir," he said in a low voice.

"I would, if I thought you deserved any." Harry couldn't stop himself. The white-hot anger made his heart pump blood to his head rapidly and there was a ringing in his ears.

Something in the professor snapped and he smacked his hands hard on the table making the empty cauldron tremble. The students in the classroom jumped and gasped in shock and Harry was sure all eyes were on him. Harry managed to hold his own body back from shuddering and kept blazing eyes on the Potions professor. Who was currently looking just seconds away from committing murder.

"I will not tolerate your insolence. Twenty points from Gryffindor. And perhaps a week of detention will help you remember to show respect to your teachers."

Harry fixed his jaw and said nothing.

"Seven. Tonight. My office," Snape said articulating every word carefully. Then he waved his hand and the cauldron disappeared again. "It's no use trying to brew today. We both know it would have been a zero either way."

Snape straightened and sneered at him in disdain. "Now, get out."

Harry didn't need to be told twice. He picked up his bag angrily and stormed out without another glance.

His first thought was to go to the Common Room but when he arrived at the Entrance Hall he changed his mind and stalked out onto the grounds. The weather was quite nice, and the warm summer breeze helped to calm the raging storm inside of him. His breath came out in angry pants as he strode aimlessly around, trying to cool down his boiling blood. He just wanted a break from... everything really. Not a day could go by when he wasn't reminded that he was different from the rest. He would always stand out, no matter where he went. The wizarding world saw him as their saviour. The Dursleys saw him as a freak. His classmates either thought he was weird or were scared of him. And Snape... well Snape just flat out hated him.

He sighed and looked up to see he had ended up just outside the Quidditch Pitch. He squinted his eyes as he saw two red-heads on broomsticks. Feeling his spirits lift slightly he walked towards them.

"Harry!" Ginny called when she spotted him and she and Ron flew towards him.

"What are you doing here Harry? Aren't you supposed to be in class right now?" Ron asked as he dismounted his broom.

"Snape threw me out."

"What?"

Harry told them what happened and felt his irritation rise again.

"That git. Only you would succeed in getting detention on the very first day of school," Ron said with a grimace.

"And only Snape would be the one to give it," Harry replied with a sigh.

"Don't I know it."

"What were you guys doing here anyway," Harry asked indicating the brooms held loosely in their hands and effectively shifting the subject away from mean Potions professors.

"Ginny wanted to practice with the Quaffle," Ron said.

"That's right. I want to join the team as a chaser," Ginny said with a casual shrug.

"Really? Are you any good?" Harry asked bluntly.

"What do you think?" Ginny teased with a grin and raised eyebrows.

"I hate to say it, she being my sister and all, but she actually isn't that bad as chaser," Ron said sheepishly. "I mean, we know she was an okay seeker and all..."

"Excuse me? If it weren't for me, Gryffindor would not have won the Quidditch cup last year."

"I'm not saying you were bad!" Ron said hastily, "Just that Harry was better."

"Well, I can't disagree with that one," Ginny said looking at Harry appraisingly and Harry felt his cheeks heat up.

Then Ginny turned towards Harry with a determined look. "Now, don't you pick me because I happen to be your best friend's sister. You should choose based on skill with a broom, nothing else."

"Don't worry, I won't be biased," Harry assured her with a smile. "Is it okay if I stay and watch for a while?"

"You know you don't even have to ask."

Harry went to the stands, feeling his anger from earlier abating in the blissful summer breeze, looking forward to occupying his mind with Quidditch only for the next hour.     

Harry sat down in the stands and spent the next hour watching the Weasley siblings practice, laughing at their antics and giving directions every now and then. The anger from earlier had abated and he tried to enjoy the warmth of the setting sun on his skin and the soft tickling of the breeze through his hair.

He watched as Ginny tricked her brother into believing she would go for the left goalpost and swerved her broom at the last minute to throw the Quaffle in the right goalpost. His eyes felt heavy and he had to work to keep them open to see her throwing her hands in the air in mock celebration. His eyelids seemed to suddenly be made of lead and he felt them close, Ginny's laughter sounding far away.

Drops of blood trickled down a deadly pale arm. The arm hung loosely off a table and the fingertips almost reached the red puddle on the floor. The room was cold, dark and empty save for the person on the table and two people on the far side of the room.

Harry looked up at the face of the woman he had just killed. Her eyes were opened in wide surprise and there was an X-shaped cut across her torso. Even though the life left her body minutes ago, she still bled freely. Harry was disgusted by it.

"Clean up this mess," Harry said with a high-pitched voice.

When the two people didn't move fast enough, a surge of fury overcame him.

"Now!" He yelled in outrage and a push of wild magic made the table fall over and the woman's body rolled off towards the men. They looked at in utter fear and scrambled to do as they were told.

Harry turned away and wiped his wand on a cloth to clean off the filthy blood. Someone walked up to him, Harry could feel the mix of trepidation and admiration emanate off of her.

"Bring me the next one, Bella," he demanded. As she bowed low and took her leave, he looked up at a long and dusty mirror. His red eyes looked back at him and he broke into a piercing, malicious laugh.

"Harry!"

Harry opened his eyes and saw Ron and Ginny's face hovering over him. He groaned and shut his eyes quickly to fend off the blinding light that aimed to pierce his skull. Ron helped him sit upright and he felt his stomach lurch at the movement. He took a few slow and steadying breaths before trying to open his eyes again.

He saw his friends' concerned looks and brought a hand up to his forehead, partly to massage his throbbing scar and partly to avoid their eyes.

"What happened?" He asked to get them talking while he steadied himself.

"You passed out mate," Ron said. "And then when we got to you, you started... laughing."

"Did you see anything?" Ginny asked, making Harry wonder again if she could read minds.

"No," he lied, "He was just really... happy."

They helped him back up and made their way back to the castle. Harry felt unsteady on his feet and he shoved his hands in his pockets to hide their tremble. He did not want to tell Ron and Ginny what he had seen because it made him feel sick to his stomach. He wiped his hands on the insides of his pockets in an attempt to rid them of the dirty feeling of having blood on ones hands. A cold sweat broke out along his back which made him feel feverish.

They had arrived at the Entrance Hall and realised it was dinner time already. The smell of food entered his nostrils and he felt a wave of nausea come over him. He swallowed a thick and sour lump in his throat.

"Are you okay mate? You look ill," Ron said.

"I'll be fine but I think I'm going to go lay down for a bit."

Ron glanced at the Great Hall. "You sure?"

"Positive."

Harry left them and trudged slowly up the stairs. Though he truly was exhausted he did not want to think about falling asleep in the empty dormitory. Drops of cold sweat tickled his forehead and he wiped them away as he made his way to one of the bathrooms. Just as he reached the bathroom door, Hermione came around the corner.

"Harry! There you are, I've been looking all over for you. I just came from the Library," she said.

Harry wanted to point out that she was mad for thinking she would find him in the Library after such a stressful day, but said nothing as his stomach lurched again.

"That was totally unfair of Snape," Hermione continued, oblivious to Harry's condition. "You should tell McGonagall."

"No Hermione, I'm not going to run to McGonagall for this. I'm not giving him the satisfaction," Harry replied as a surge of anger flared up again. He welcomed it as it distracted him from his shock.

"Then you're just as stubborn as he is! What are you trying to prove? Who-"

She stilled as she looked at him, really looked at him for the first time.

"What's wrong?" she said suddenly concerned.

Harry shrugged and tried to make it look indifferent. "Just my scar. No big deal. I told Ron to go ahead to dinner, you should go to."

"Will you come too?"

"Not sure yet, maybe I'll lay down for a bit," Harry lied again.

"Harry... maybe you should go see Madam Pomfrey," Hermione suggested with worry.

"No, really, I'm fine Hermione. I just need a moment to recollect myself."

Hermione pursed her lips and for a moment Harry thought she would continue to persuade him, but she relented.

"Shall I walk you to the Common Room?"

"I can walk you know," Harry said with a smile to reassure her. "Don't worry, I can find my way around the castle."

Hermione nodded reluctantly and waited until he was inside the bathroom before making her way to the Great Hall.

Harry sighed in relief and went to the sink. He turned on the tap and held his wrists under the amazingly cold and refreshing water. He filled his cupped hands with water and splashed it onto his face. He looked up in the mirror and saw his pale reflection looking back at him, water dripping from his chin. The image of a pale face in the mirror and the slow dripping of a liquid brought back a wave of nausea and he reached the toilet just in time to empty his stomach of its contents. His throat burned and his eyes watered from the physical force his body exerted.

He sat on the cold bathroom floor for a long time, trying to empty his mind of all thoughts and feelings. He focused on his wet hands, the hard floor beneath him and the sharp jab in his back where a brick in the wall stuck out.

He could have sat there for hours but he glanced out the window and he could see the sun had not fully set yet so it must not be that late. With a jolt he realised he had detention with Snape and had no idea what time it was. For a brief moment he considered not going at all, but he did not particularly feel up to increasing Snape's wrath even more. Snape would have his hide if he didn't show up.

With a heaviness in his limbs he pushed himself up and made his way grudgingly towards the dungeons. At Snape's office door he hesitated as he glanced down at himself. He probably looked a right mess. He tugged at his tie to try and make it look neat but gave up seconds later. He raised his hand and knocked before opening the door.

Snape sat at his desk, his curtain of black hair obscuring his face as he was bent over, stacks of parchment lining the tabletop. He did not look up and continued writing with a dark coloured quill.

"Close the door behind you and sit down," came the terse voice.

Harry did as he was told and sat down in the chair across from the desk. Snape did not continue and kept his eyes on his parchment. Harry thought it would be an odd detention indeed if Snape just sat there the entire time, demanding nothing but silence. In absence of further instructions, Harry took in the dark office and its shuddering familiarity. Shelves lined the walls and they held a large quantity of bottles and jars, each one containing the most disgusting looking ingredients. The last time he was here one of those jars was flung towards his head... His eyes involuntarily found the cabinet which had held the Pensieve last year and a feeling of shame crept up on him.

The scraping sound of Snape's quill had stopped and he realised the professor had been watching him. Remembering his words in their occlumency lessons, he quickly averted his eyes.

"You are late," Snape's voice cut through the silence. Harry said nothing.

"Is the concept of time so foreign to you that you have trouble being on time, like any normal person?"

"No sir," Harry said evenly.

"Yet you decided to arrive here twenty minutes past the appointed time."

Harry furrowed his brow. He hadn't realised he had tarried in the bathroom for that long.

"And you lack the decency to present yourself properly, instead opting to strut around, arrogantly flaunting this dishevelled and disordered appearance."

Harry felt that familiar anger rise up within him and he welcomed it with open arms.

"I do not strut," he said balling his fists, trying not to lash out.

Snape leaned forward over his desk, his face looking ominous in the candle-lit room.

"Oh yes you do, just like your father.  Showing off his complete disregard for decorum."

"You're one to talk of decorum," Harry spat, "You knew exactly why I did not have my supplies today, McGonagall told you beforehand. The only reason I'm here right now is because you couldn't pass up the opportunity to see me be miserable."

"Don't flatter yourself," Snape said pitilessly. "The only one to blame for your punishment is yourself. Had you not disregarded all of the Order's efforts to keeping you safely detained, you would not have missed your letters and would have had ample time to get everything you need, like any other student." Snape slowly walked around his desk, glinting eyes never leaving Harry's face.

"But of course, you don't want to be like any other student, do you? You crave that special attention and being fawned over by half the world. That much was obvious to me when I heard you decided on a whim to leave your relatives house, in complete disregard of the safety measures that a lot of people have worked hard on to keep in place. And then in a brainless act of ignorance you decided to travel with that infernal bus. Have you any idea what sort of people board that thing nowadays?"

"Well what would you have me do then? I had no ways of communication and my aunt threw me out."

"Your aunt was instructed to keep you there."

"Yeah, well my aunt didn't care."

"So, naturally the next best option was to abandon the house with no announcement whatsoever, ignoring all the adults alerted to your absence and forsake everything we fight for? Tell me Potter, do you want to get yourself killed? Because I can assure you there are far more inventive ways to achieve that."

"You don't know anything about me, so stop acting like you care," Harry seethed.

Snape stopped in front of him, leaning so close that they almost touched noses. But Harry did not shrink away from him, wouldn't allow him that power, and met his eyes defiantly.

"I know all about you," Snape said in a menacingly soft voice.

"I seriously doubt that," Harry replied.

Snape's black eyes bored into his and Harry felt trapped in those dark orbs. He reluctantly looked away to protect his mind from invasion.

Snape's lip curled contemptuously.

"I see you haven't forgotten. But there is no need for Legilimency, you wear it all on your sleeve. Arrogance, rebellion, anger, fear," his voice was reduced to a whisper now, "guilt."

Harry winced. Snape smiled cruelly.

"You cannot hide from me. Remember that, if nothing else." Snape straightened and turned to sit back at his desk. He pointed at a table to the side of the office where a cauldron was waiting along with some jars and containers.

"You will prepare the potion we covered in today's lesson. No interruptions this time. A list of instructions is on the table. Let's see if the luck you had in your OWL exam persists."

Harry glanced at the workbench and grimaced. It would take him over two hours.

"Yes Potter, the task might seem daunting to your feeble mind. But unlike your Head of House, I will not coddle you and I will not mistake your obnoxiousness for laziness. Begin."

It was well past ten thirty when Snape finally let him go. Brewing the Wound-cleaning potion had been hopeless as Harry was distracted by the turmoil of emotions on the inside, and Snape's heavy presence on the outside. Snape had made a disparaging comment on his Potion-making skills and had promised him he would have all week to try again.

Harry quickly made his way back to Gryffindor Tower, not wanting to earn himself another detention for wandering the castle after curfew. He was pleasantly surprised to see that Ron and Hermione were waiting for him when he arrived. He plumped down on the sofa and told them all about the evil Potions Master, glad they were both understanding for once.

"It's getting late, I'm off to bed," Harry finally said and he got up to leave for the dormitory, but stopped when he saw the two of them glance at each other in concern. He sighed inwardly.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Ron told me what happened this afternoon," Hermione said tentatively.

"And?"

"And I think you should tell someone."

Harry sighed out loud and gripped the back of the sofa he had just vacated. "Like who?"

"Anyone! McGonagall, Dumbledore!"

"I'm not going to run off to them for every little thing. Besides, I've had worse."

"Why are you being so stubborn?" Hermione said exasperated. "Why is it so hard for you to ask for help? Think of what happened last year! Ouch!"

Ron elbowed Hermione hard in the ribs and looked at her imploringly before glancing at Harry to see his reaction.

Harry looked away, buried feelings of shame and guilt resurfacing.

"I know Hermione. Truly I do." He looked back at his friends and for once the raw concern in their eyes did not make him feel cold inside. "And if it gets any worse, I promise I will tell someone. Just... let me figure it out on my own pace. I have asked for help before and it didn't really do any good so... I just need time to figure it all out for myself."

Hermione's eyes glistened and she nodded. "Just promise you won't keep us in the dark, okay? You know we'll be there for you, whatever you do."

Ron nodded and Harry smiled at them. He truly had the best friends.

"I promise."

The three of them smiled at each other for a while until the silence became a little too awkward.

 "Now I really am going to bed," Harry said mirthfully.

The next few days went by relatively well. He had not had any more visions, but his nightmares had taken over again. This he could handle, he decided. It was, after all, something he had gotten used to over the years and if they got any worse he could always ask Madam Pomfrey to give him some Dreamless Sleep Potion.

His detentions with Snape were rather dull compared to the first one, for which Harry was overjoyed. The less words he and Snape exchanged, the better. On Wednesday he had managed to brew the Wound cleaning potion with only a few flaws and the result was only slightly off-colour. He considered this a personal victory and hoped it would make Snape's hackles rise. In good spirits he booked the Quidditch Pitch for Saturday morning to hold tryouts.

Thursday morning marked their first Defence against the Dark Arts class and Professor Braden was already waiting for them just outside the classroom, giving them all a warm handshake before they entered. Harry raised his eyebrows at Ron and knew they both thought it was a bit much. No one could be this amicable.

"Get settled everyone, we have much to go over," Braden called over the sounds of scraping chairs and talking students.

When the room had quieted down, Braden moved in front of the students and threw his arms wide.

"Welcome!"

Harry saw Malfoy nudging Crabbe and stifling a laugh.

"I have been informed that your Defence against the Dark Arts teachers over the past years have left much to be desired, which means you have experienced an instability in you educational career. To be honest, I was surprised when I saw how many of you would be attending this class, cause it meant that you have scraped together an OWL for a subject in which you've had little to none instruction."

Harry kept his eyes forward and focused on the blackboard behind Professor Braden, as he knew his classmates were staring at him. Last year they had the worst Defence teacher ever, and Harry had taken it upon himself to teach what he knew. It had made a difference to some, who had otherwise not been able to pass their OWL.

"I'm afraid I have bad news for those who only barely made it into this class," Braden continued. "The curriculum for your NEWTs is going to be even more tough and, as we will need to revise a lot from earlier years, it will require an astronomical amount of determination. But seeing as you got here, against all odds, I feel you will succeed in this as well."

"Without further ado, please open your textbooks on page 55. The key-word this year is Nonverbal magic, and this goes for defensive spells as well. Since last year seems to have been nothing short of disastrous in terms of defensive spells, I want to see where you all stand on those."

They reviewed the theory on the shield and disarming charm, both of which Harry already mastered. Then Professor Braden made them form pairs to practice them on each other. None of the students had any problem casting the spells and soon Braden called them to attention.

"Excellent! Now, on to Nonverbal casting. Gather round."

When the students were gathered in a circle around him, Braden gave a silent wave of his wand and Pansy Parkinson suddenly broke out in giggles and jumped up as if invisible hands were poking her ribs. Braden lifted the Tickling charm and Pansy glared at him, cheeks reddened in embarrassment.

"Performing spells non-verbally is extremely difficult and it requires a good deal of practice, concentration and mental discipline." 

Harry groaned inwardly, knowing he shared Ron's mental capacity of a teaspoon.

"Once you are able to perform nonverbal spells, you will notice that they are lower in power and less effective than they normally are with a spoken incantation. It takes a very powerful wizard, who's had years of practice, to put the same power behind a nonverbal spell as with a verbal spell. Bear that in mind when practicing this type of magic and don't let any setbacks discourage you."

"With regards to defence, what would be the advantage of using nonverbal spells in a duel?"

Hermione's hand shot up.

"Yes, miss...?"

"Granger, sir. Nonverbal spells are useful in duels because your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you're about to perform, giving you, the caster, a split-second advantage."

"You're absolutely correct miss Granger, five points to Gryffindor." Hermione beamed at him.

"Not giving away what you are about to do will definitely give you an advantage. It is therefore crucial that you not only learn to perform nonverbal spells, but how to perform them with enough stealth to fool your opponent."

This proved to be a right struggle when they went on to practice in pairs. Harry stood with his wand at the ready, waiting for Ron to perform the Tickling charm so that he could protect himself with a shield, but for ten minutes, nothing happened.

Harry laughed at Ron's face, which looked like he was trying desperately to pass a bowel movement.

"You try it then," Ron shot at him.

Harry nodded and concentrated. He worried about the mental discipline it would take to perform a nonverbal spell, after the fiasco that were his occlumency lessons. Yet he also knew he had performed it before. Accidentally of course, blowing up Aunt Marge, growing his hair back right after it had been cut. It had not been intentional, but it had been nonverbal.

He had a hard time concentrating on the spell. He saw Ron's smug look directed at him and he heard Hermione shriek as Lavender gave up and verbally hit her with the Tickling charm. He heard Seamus' low whisper and yelp as Professor Braden hit him with the same spell and calling "No cheating" over their heads.

He shook his head and closed his eyes to help block out all other distractions, focusing only on the spell he was to perform. He envisioned the wand movement and the light emanating from his wand. He tried to remember the exact feeling of the magic engulfing him and leaving from the tip of his wand.

Then he waved his wand at Ron with force. To his surprise Ron began laughing and dancing on his toes, obviously in the throes of the Tickling charm.

"Well done, Mr. Potter," Professor Braden came towards them and ended the charm on Ron. "Ten points to Gryffindor. Can you tell the class what it was you did?"

"Er... I'm not sure really," Harry said. "I just concentrated and envisioned what I wanted to happen."

"Did you feel any different?"

Harry considered that question. "I felt a tingling sensation. It was as if I felt the magic coming from within me, I guess?"

Braden nodded at him appraisingly. "That's right. Because there is no verbal incantation to guide the magic to where it needs to be, it has to come from within you, from your own magical core. Very impressive, Mr. Potter."

An hour later, Professor Braden dismissed them and Harry had been the only one so far to be able to perform a nonverbal spell. At lunch, his classmates congratulated him jealously.

After their Herbology lesson, Hermione and Ron had to go to a prefect meeting and Harry joined Ginny, Luna and Kai-Enna in the Library to work on his Potions essay. His supplies had finally arrived the day before, and with a groan he pulled out his textbook.

"Not feeling up to it?" Kai-Enna asked with an amused expression.

"Not really, no," Harry replied.

"It's not so much Potions that's the problem, more the one who teaches it," Ginny said knowingly.

Kai-Enna nodded in thought. "Yeah, I can see why. Professor Snape seems a bit...dark."

"I think Professor Snape is a great teacher," Luna said, oblivious to the fact that Ginny and Harry were staring at her incredulously.

"How so Luna?" Kai-Enna asked.

"He is stern and sometimes harsh, but by doing so he makes sure we do our utter best. You learn much more from failure than you would from success."

"Ha, then I should be an expert on Potions by now. Snape always makes sure I fail his class," Harry said bitterly.

"Snape has it in for Harry," Ginny explained to Kai-Enna.

"Why?"

"He hates me because of who my father was. They went to school together and became enemies right from the start," Harry said while flipping his textbook.

"That is so unfair! It's not your fault your father and him were enemies. And besides, you are not your father."

"I know, I keep telling him that. I can't even remember my father, how could I be anything like him? I'm just... me. Unfortunately, Snape has a talent for holding grudges. Long-term."

Kai-Enna turned towards him with a teasing smile. "Who is Harry Potter anyway? According to the Daily Prophet, you're supposed to be some kind of Saviour. But looking at you now, you seem just as normal as the rest of us."

"Thank you," Harry said with conviction.

They spent the next hour talking, Kai-Enna asking him all sorts of questions to get to know him. It was nice talking to someone with whom he had not shared a history with at Hogwarts. He could forego tales about the Chamber of Secrets and Voldemort, and focus on school, homework and the secrets that the castle held. Just normal stuff.

When Ron and Hermione got to them it was time for dinner so they packed their books and half-written essays.

"You coming Kai?" Ginny asked as Kai-Enna lingered.

"No, you go ahead. I need to get something from the common room first," She said distractedly while rummaging in her bag.

The rest of them left her to go to the Great Hall for dinner. There the conversation turned to Professor Braden's Defence class. They all agreed it had been a great lesson and that he was a good teacher with no biases towards any of the houses. While Ron talked enthusiastically about Braden, saying he might be the best Defence teacher since Remus, Harry and Hermione were a bit more reserved. Hermione pointed out that it wouldn't be the first teacher they had put their trust in and who eventually turned out to be a madman or murderer. Harry agreed with her and glanced at the Head table. Braden was jovially talking to McGonagall, making wild hand gestures to support his story. He seemed okay, but Harry was not going to fall for that farce again. If Braden truly was a good person, it would take more than a good Defence lesson to prove it.

After dinner Harry trudged towards the dungeons for his detention with Snape. He knocked at the door and waited for the bored "Enter" from within. At his cue, he opened the door and went inside. Snape did not look at him but lazily pointed to the workbench, where the cauldron and ingredients were waiting for him again. Without a word he stepped towards it and settled down, pulling the jar of scarab beetles towards him as he knew they were to be crushed first. Hm, apparently practice does make perfect he mused. He picked up his knife and was about to crush his first beetle when Snape's voice cut through the silence.

"I hear you have managed to perform a nonverbal spell today."

Harry was so shocked that he stared at Snape for a minute, mouth slightly opened. Since that first detention on Monday, Snape had barely spoken two words to him. And now he was, what? Attempting light conversation? Harry didn't know what to say so he opted for silence, hoping it was a fluke.

"Apparently, those lessons last year have given you some sense of mental control."

Harry bit his lip, preventing himself from retorting that nothing good had ever come from of those lessons. He gripped his knife tightly and continued crushing his beetle, imagining it was Snape's face.

"Or perhaps, this too was just another stroke of luck?"

Harry put his knife down hard in agitation and turned his head towards his teacher.

"What point are you trying to make?" he said looking straight at Snape's eyes. "Sir," he added as an afterthought.

Snape curled his lips. "You have already made the point, Potter. Nonverbal spells take a lot of mental control, something you have shown no proficiency at. Imagine my surprise therefore, when I heard it was you who was the first this year."

He looked down at Harry's fists, which were balled in an attempt to contain his anger, and sneered.

"Seeing you now, however, reinforces my belief that you have absolutely no skill, no talent whatsoever in the workings of the mind. Or controlling it."

"That's what happens when you have a lousy teacher," Harry spat.

Snape glided towards him, black eyes glinting in the torchlight. "Don't for a moment act as if you put even the slightest effort into our lessons, Potter. You were only interested in playing the hero, you didn't even want to end those expeditions into the Dark Lord's mind. They helped to nurture that overinflated ego of yours, to have access to information that you were not meant to have."

"Shut up!" Harry yelled as he stood up angrily. "If you were so against my accessing his mind, why didn't you teach me how to block it properly?"

"I cannot teach someone who does not wish to learn. And you didn't. That ignorance is to blame for your poor skills in Occlumency so stop fooling yourself into believing you are absolved of any responsibility in that regard. What would Black say if he could see you now?"

"Shut up! SHUT UP!" Harry roared and he made a move to grab his wand from his sleeve. But Snape was quicker and had his own wand trained on him before he could whip his own in the greasy git's face. Harry looked from the tip of Snape's wand to his black eyes, ignoring the sudden prickling in his scar.

"Never," Snape said in a low growl, "draw your wand on me in anger."

Harry glared at those infuriating obsidian eyes.

Then his head split open and he crunched his face in pain. White-hot lava flowed through his head and he pressed his hands to his scar as hard as possible, but it didn't do anything to lessen the pain. He was on his knees somehow, though he could not remember how he had ended up there. He would have fallen flat-faced on the dungeon floor if it had not been for two firm hands on this shoulders, keeping him in place.

He bit his tongue to keep from screaming and could taste the metallic tang of blood. He looked back up into those black orbs and saw an emotion in them that he could not identify. His vision blurred and the image of his Potions Professor faded away and was replaced by the dark and gloomy room he had seen so many times before.

He ran his pale, slender fingers along the tear-streaked cheek of a dark-haired woman, in mock consolation. She struggled against invisible bonds and pleaded with him to let her go.

"Please, I don't know anything, I swear!"

He felt a cruel smile form on his lips as he circled the woman. Her demeanour disgusted him. How dare she beg him for her life, when she could not give him what he needed?

"I believe you, my dear," he said, stopping just behind her kneeled form. "Unfortunately, I hate being disappointed."

With a flick of his wrist he constricted her throat. Her chest heaved, desperately trying to get air into her lungs.

He walked lazily around to face her and smiled at her wide, fearful eyes staring up at him and her open mouth who worked hard to take in gulps of air. But it was to no avail. He lifted his hand and closed it around her throat, relishing in the powerful feeling of having complete control over life and death. He squeezed hard enough to leave a mark on her unblemished skin and then, merciful as he was, he ended her life.

Harry took big gulps of air as the dark room faded from his mind's eye. He squeezed his eyes shut to try and block out the pain and images of the fading vision. His heart was trying to burst out of his chest and he panted harshly to keep up with it. He felt as if he was suffocating, as if no oxygen came with his gulping inhalation.

"Breathe, Potter," Snape's steady voice crossed through the haze.

Harry looked up desperately.

"I... can't..."

"Yes, you can."

Snape took one of Harry's hands in his own and put it against his chest. Any other moment, Harry would have been horrified to touch Snape in any way, but right now his panicked mind didn't care. He could feel the steady rhythm of Snape's heartbeat through his dark robes.

"Focus on my breathing. In. Out. In. Out."

Harry did and focused on the steady rise and fall of the professor's chest, slowly synchronizing with his own breathing.

"Good."

In Harry's peripheral vision he spotted Snape's wand on the stone floor as if it had been discarded the very instant his scar had flared up. Somehow that notion gave his heart a tender pull.

"You're okay now." It wasn't a question but Harry nodded anyway, partly to assure himself.

"Look at me," Snape said, his voice void of emotion. Harry did and for a moment they just stared at each other, lost in their own worlds of thought and emotion. It was like they shared a connection that could not be put into words. 

A moment later, it was gone.

"What did you see?"

Harry blinked and shook his head, unwilling to repeat any of it.

"Answer me, Potter! What did you see?" Snape's voice became more heated.

Harry looked away, his face pulled in a grimace.

"Look at me!" Snape grabbed his chin and turned his head back to look him in the eyes. Immediately Harry felt the familiar but intrusive feeling of Snape's presence forcing its way into his mind. Panicked, he did the only thing he could think of. He physically shoved the man away from him, effectively breaking his connection to his mind.

"Get away from me!" he gasped and backed away himself.

Snape was caught off-balance and his back hit the desk. Though his face had been calm and collected during Harry's breakdown, a scowl was now firmly in place again. He stood up slowly and Harry did so as well with a weary look.

"How many of those have you had these past weeks?" Snape broke through the tense silence.

Harry shrugged and averted his eyes. "Not many."

"Do not lie to me, Potter," Snape said and threw him a disgusted look.

"I'm not lying," Harry defended, but he lacked conviction. "I've only had a couple of them each week."

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose in aggravation.
 
"And how many of them contained images such as... this one?" he said through gritted teeth.

Harry stilled and cursed inwardly. He had not reacted quick enough and now Snape had seen exactly what was in his visions. He realised Snape was impatiently waiting for an answer so he quietly muttered, "all of them," and hung his head.

"I can't believe how incredibly stupid you are Potter," Snape said but his voice lacked heat. Instead he sounded worn out.

"I take it you haven't told anyone about these visions?"

Harry shook his head.

"I figured as much." Snape walked towards the fireplace. With a wave of his hand his wand was back in his palm and he started a fire with it. Then he grabbed a jar that contained a loose powder, turned back towards Harry and offered it to him.

"Dumbledore's office, I should think," he said.

Harry stared at the jar, feelings of weariness and fatigue warring within him. He wasn't sure he could face that office again. After all, last time he was there Dumbledore so much as gave him a death sentence, and it was the first place he went right after Sirius had been killed. He remembered the rage he had inside and how he had projected it outward by destroying everything he could lay his hands on.

"Come on, Potter," Snape said, seeing as Harry was not about to move without a nudge. "Don't you think it's been enough?"

Harry looked up at his professor and for a split-second that connection they had earlier was back. Determined, Harry nodded and took a handful of the floo powder in his hand. He stepped into the fireplace, stated his destination, and in a whirl of colours he vanished.


Harry stepped into the Headmaster's Office and was immediately hit with all kinds of feelings he had a hard time identifying. The floo flared again and Snape stepped out behind him.

"Harry, Severus, what a pleasant surprise to see you both here," Dumbledore said as he stood up and came around his desk to greet them.

"Not pleasant at all, headmaster," Snape said as he passed Harry and walked towards Dumbledore, dusting off his robes as he went.

"I see," Dumbledore mused. He conjured two chairs on the other side of his desk and sat down again looking at them appraisingly.

"Take a seat then."

As soon as Harry sat down Dumbledore pushed a bowl of candy at him.

"Lemon drop, Harry?"

Harry looked the old wizard in the eye and frowned slightly. From the corner of his eye he saw Snape roll his eyes in annoyance.

"No thank you, sir," he said with downcast eyes.

"Tell me why you are here," Dumbledore inquired looking back and forth between the two men before him.

"Well Potter?"

Harry turned his head towards Snape, who had an eyebrow raised and was looking at him expectantly. He had expected Snape would lead the conversation, seeing as it was he who had insisted on going to Dumbledore. Now that both wizard's eyes were on him, he felt a nervous chill ran down the back of his spine.

"Right, well...I, er... I have been having visions, sir," Harry stammered.

"Of what nature?"

"Of... er... Voldemort, sir."  He saw Snape flinch at the name.

"And what transpires in those visions?"

Harry stared at the blue eyes behind the half-moon spectacles. Was Dumbledore seriously going to make him spell it out? He looked down and fidgeted with a loose thread that came from his right sleeve to give his sweaty hands something to focus on.

"Well... in these visions there's... you see... that is-"  Harry faltered.

"The contents of these visions bear no repeating, headmaster," Snape stepped in. Harry glanced at him sideways and felt an unfamiliar wave of gratitude for the snarky professor.

Dumbledore turned towards Snape appraisingly. "You have seen them?"

"Briefly," Snape replied evenly and Harry's cheeks reddened as he remembered how he had shoved his teacher away hard.

"I see," Dumbledore muttered but did not offer any other thoughts on the matter and remained silent. Apparently Snape was just as impatient with the headmaster as he so often was with his students.

"Something needs to be done, this cannot continue any longer," he said brusquely.

"It is heartening to see you so concerned for the welfare of your student," Dumbledore said with twinkling eyes.

"His welfare?" Snape snapped, "Have you forgotten that he takes NEWT Potions? Sleep deprivation and volatile substances don't mix well together. Not to mention the amount of damage he could do while practicing nonverbal magic in all his other classes."

Seeing as he wasn't part of the conversation anymore, Harry focused his attention on the ornate stand where a young Fawkes was ruffling his feathers.

"What do you propose we do then?"

"He obviously needs to learn to control his mind to prevent the Dark Lord from coming and going as he pleases. Lest he starts to meddle with the boy's sanity."

"How?"

"Clearly he needs to be taught Occlumency, possibly Legilimency as well."

"An excellent suggestion, Severus," Dumbledore said amiably.

"You know I don't mean he should be taught by myself," Snape replied darkly. "You know as much about the mental arts as I do. You teach him. You said yourself that it was a mistake to force me and Potter together last year."

"I remember. However, I do have a slight problem with your suggestion," Dumbledore said.

"And what would that be?" Snape gritted out.

"I have no intention of exposing my mind to the likes of Voldemort."

Again Snape flinched but recovered quickly.

"And my mind contains nothing of value, is that it?"

"I did not say that."

"You would risk my position as a spy for the Order? To teach a brat who doesn't even wish to learn?"

"I believe you are wrong on both points," Dumbledore said calmly, not even the slightest bit as agitated as the younger man before him.

Snape frowned and Harry glanced at him.

"Your role as a spy is vitally important, yes. But I do not believe it to be at risk if you were to teach Harry, as it was not at risk when you agreed to teach him last year."

Snape scoffed at the word 'agreed' but remained otherwise silent.

"And, likewise, I do not believe Harry does not wish to learn Occlumency. To the contrary, it has never been more clear how crucial it is to master it."

Something within Harry stirred at that and he furrowed his brows.

"That's all fine and well, but forgive me if I do not share your confidence in the boy's intentions."

"Will you two just stop talking as if I'm not here, for one second?" Harry finally blurted out.

Both men turned their heads toward him, Snape with a scowl and Dumbledore an approving twinkle in his blue eyes.

"Believe me, I know I need to master Occlumency. I need to be able to protect my mind, now more than ever." He glanced at Dumbledore, remembering that the old man had told him the contents of the Prophecy last time he sat in this office.

"That's very heartening, Potter," Snape offered sarcastically.

Harry ignored him.

"But if neither of you wants to teach me, I don't know what I can do to stop all of this. Without any help, my mind will be at his mercy."

"You're absolutely right, Harry," Dumbledore said gently, with a hint of sadness in his voice.

Snape uncrossed his arms and a dark smirk appeared on his face.

"Why don't we let Potter decide?"

Dumbledore looked over his glasses at Snape, his eyebrows raised in an unspoken question. Snape looked at him smugly.

"Let Potter decide whom he prefers as a teacher of the mental arts."

Both men looked at Harry expectantly and Harry felt an uneasiness creep up at his insides. One thing he had truly wanted for years was to have power over his own destiny and future. The ability to make decisions for himself for once. Now that he had it, it felt like a huge responsibility. He knew instantly what choice he was about to make and he almost couldn't believe the words he was about to utter. But he knew, without a doubt, that it was the right choice.

"Well, Potter?" Snape said, obviously impatient to get it over with.

"Harry?" Dumbledore coaxed gently.

Harry stilled a sigh and looked up to the older men with defiant determination.

"I want Professor Snape to teach me."

Harry took grim satisfaction at wiping the smug look off Snape's face.

"I beg your pardon?" Snape said in disbelief.

"I want you to teach me, Professor," Harry said while looking Snape directly in the eye.

Snape's expression went from disbelief to discontentment in mere seconds.

"And if I refuse?"

Harry glanced at Dumbledore, whose eyes were twinkling with affection.

"Then I will have to ask the Headmaster to order you to."

Snape looked from Harry to Dumbledore and back, trying to decipher whether they were playing tricks on him.

For a rare moment, the Professor seemed at loss for words, but then he sputtered, "Why?"

This time Harry really did sigh. He suddenly felt drained from the day's events and found himself wishing he could just crawl into bed and sleep. 

"I agree with Professor Dumbledore that the knowledge he possesses about the Order and the war are too much at risk of being exposed if he were to engage in a mental sparring with me. Besides," Harry glanced at Dumbledore briefly, "last year I couldn't even look him in the eye without Voldemort stirring up inside of me. I do not wish to experience that again, if I can help it."

A look of regret passed over Dumbledore's features but he gave Harry a small smile.

"And moreover," Harry continued, deciding this was the hardest part, "I want you to teach me because I know you will not coddle me or indulge me in any way. You will make this every bit as hard on me as you do with everything. And, though I'm loathe to say it, I think I need that. I need to experience the same harshness and the same hatred that I could expect from my enemies, or I will never learn to close my mind to them."

When he had finished, Snape sat staring at him with a furrowed brow but he did not come up with a reply.

Dumbledore broke the silence by clapping his hands and stood up with a smile that reached his twinkling eyes.

"Well, that's settled then," he said casually as if they had just decided on the colour of some new decorations for his office.

Harry stood and gave the Headmaster a curt nod. When he turned he caught Snape's eye. The man was glaring at him.

"Since you have been assigned a week of detention with me and the week's not over yet, your first lesson will begin tomorrow evening. The usual time. Do. Not. Be. Late." Snape said with such dark malice in his voice that Harry wondered if he had just signed his own death sentence. Then the dark wizard swept out of the office with billowing robes behind him.

Harry looked after him, already feeling the dread of having to step into the man's office again.

"I appreciate what you just did, Harry. It must not have been easy," Dumbledore said.

Harry turned towards the Headmaster, who had sat down behind his desk again and was looking at him appraisingly.

"It wasn't. Do you think I made the right choice, Professor?" Harry asked, feeling uncertain for the first time since he made his choice known.

"Only you can be the judge of that."

Harry frowned. That did not help to calm his whirling thoughts. Dumbledore seemed to sense this.

"I have once told you that it takes a strong person to make the right choice, instead of the easy choice and I feel it applies here as well. You chose unselfishly for a teacher that dislikes you, and has given you no reason to believe he has your best interests in mind while teaching you a vitally important skill. You have experienced it even last year. The fact that you chose to try again, knowing of the hardships that come with it, is a sign of true strength."

"What if it isn't the right choice? What if it goes wrong again?" Harry asked with a hint of desperation in his voice. "Will you teach me then?"

Dumbledore smiled at him in amusement. "I do not believe it will come to that. But, in the unlikely event that this expedition does not work out, you have my word that I will see to your education."

Harry nodded at him in appreciation.

"Sir, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, Harry."

"We haven't had a chance to talk. You know... about er... the Prophecy and Voldemort and stuff." Harry stammered as anxiety settled in. "And I haven't had a chance to apologize for destroying your possessions."

Dumbledore held up a hand to stop him. "There is no need for apologies, Harry. I daresay I owe you more acknowledgment of my own offenses and failures."

Harry swallowed, having a hard time accepting that Dumbledore could wave his abhorrent behaviour away just like that.

"Could we, maybe talk sometime? About... well, everything really."

"Yes Harry. I feel we are long past due to have another conversation about the Prophecy and its implications. However, I must again ask for your patience and understanding. If we are to delve deeper into the war and your role in it, we must be absolutely sure that Voldemort has no means of discovering it. You must be able to close your mind off to him completely."

Harry nodded solemnly. "I understand, sir."

"Good. And if there is ever a time when you need advice, or just simply need to vent some emotions do not hesitate to stop by. My door is always open to you."

"Yes, thank you sir."

"Now, it is getting late and you only have ten minutes left before curfew. No doubt your bed is waiting for you."

"Goodnight, sir."

"Goodnight, Harry."

Harry exited the Headmaster's Office and mulled over the conversation on the way back to the dormitory. Dumbledore was right about him needing to master Occlumency before he could be privy to any of the Order's information. He swore to himself he would work his hardest on mastering control over his mind, and he would make Snape aid him in that mission if nothing else.

He wandered for a while with these thoughts before the creaking sound of an opening door brought him out of his reverie. He realised he had ended up on the third floor corridor and the door that had opened lead to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. To his surprise Kai-Enna stepped out of the classroom and closed the door behind her, a troubled expression on her face. She didn't see him at first but when Harry stepped forward into the light cast by a torch on the wall, she gasped in surprise.

"Harry!" she exclaimed and scrolls of parchment slipped out of her arms.

Harry quickly crouched down to help her gather them.

"Sorry," Kai-Enna began, "you surprised me."

"That's okay," Harry replied as he gave her the scrolls back and stood up straight. "What are you doing out here?"

"Oh, er...," Kai-Enna stammered. "I was just dropping by Professor Braden. I had a question about the essay he's set us."

"Now? With only five minutes before curfew?" Harry asked with a frown.

"Yeah well, you know, I'm not that good at Defence and I'm kind of nervous I'll not do well on my exams. And I had to ask the Professor or I would not be able to sleep."

"Oh, that sucks," Harry blurted out. "You know, you could always ask Ginny and Luna to help you out. They're both great at Defence."

Kai-Enna widened her eyes. "Oh Harry, Ginny told me you taught Defence last year. You had some kind of club?"

Harry scratched the back of his head uneasily. "Yeah, but we were disbanded."

Kai-Enna's face fell. "Oh... But if I do have any questions, or I need to practice, would you be available to help?"

Harry was about to say that Ginny and Luna now both knew everything he taught last year and would be able to help her just as much as he would. But the pleading in her blue eyes, however, stopped him in his tracks.

"Er... yeah of course. I'd be happy to help," he said with a tiny hint of reluctance. Between his classes, being captain of the Quidditch team and his Occlumency lessons he hoped he still had some free time left.

Kai-Enna beamed at him. "Thanks Harry, that means a lot. I'll let you know then."

Harry nodded at her and an awkward silence ensued.

"So...," he said awkwardly. "I guess I'm going back to Gryffindor Tower. Curfew and all."

"Ah yes, of course. See you around."

Harry turned and tracked down the corridor. Just before he turned the corner he heard Kai-Enna call from the opposite site.

"Goodnight Harry!"

"Goodnight!" he called back and then she was out of sight.

He frowned at the strange encounter, but shrugged it off and hurried back to the Gryffindor Common Room.     

The next day was a blissful free day for Harry as he had no classes that day. After breakfast he waved his friends goodbye as Hermione hurried off to Arithmancy and Ron trudged towards the edge of the forest for Care of Magical Creatures. As it was a beautiful summer's day he decided to walk to the lake, pick a spot and settle down to work on some essays.

Last night he had told Ron, Hermione and Ginny, who had somehow stayed up for him as well, what happened during his detention and the trip to the Headmaster's Office afterwards. Hermione had been properly relieved that he would finally be working on getting rid of his visions while Ron and Ginny sympathised with the fact that he now had to endure Snape's wrath not only in Potions but Occlumency as well.

An hour into his work he put down his books and scrolls and stretched on the grass, right at the edge of the lake. A tap on his shoulder made him jump.

"Hi Harry."

He looked up and saw Ginny's freckled face beaming at him.

"Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all. I'm taking a break anyway."

Ginny threw her bag off her shoulder and sat down next to him.

"What were you working on?"

"Transfiguration. It's the subject I'm worst at for sure."

Ginny grinned at him. "Mine is History of Magic. I tried, I swear I did. But it's just too dull for my tastes."

Her grin turned into a small frown as she looked at him.

"Are you alright? Last night must not have been easy."

Harry glanced at her and marvelled at the way she could sense his feelings.

"I'm fine, I guess. Not looking forward to tonight though."

"I can imagine," Ginny said sourly. "What are you most apprehensive about?"

Harry considered the question and his thoughts ran back to last year, when his lessons with Snape had been a right disaster.

"Just him being in my mind and forcing me to relive all those horrid memories and visions."

"You don't trust him?" Ginny picked up.

"No, I don't," he replied with conviction. "He has never given me any reason to. And I'm sure the feeling's mutual."

"Don't you think that will work to your disadvantage?"

"Huh?" Harry cocked a brow at her.

"You know, I can imagine that studying the mental arts together can be very... intimate and personal. It would be horrible to have to let someone you don't trust look inside your mind time and again, having your deepest secrets and desires exposed to them."

"It is."

"I know."

Harry frowned at her and then realised that Ginny knew exactly what it was like. She too had had someone, Voldemort no less, violate her mind, when she was just eleven years old. He had never stopped to consider that they had this in common and that she would be the only one of his friends who could really relate to his own situation. Not only with Snape, but with Voldemort as well.

He watched Ginny as she picked up a pebble that lay near her feet on the grass, swung her arm back and threw it far into the lake. Harry heard the pebble hit the water but kept his eyes on Ginny. The corner of her mouth lifted up slightly as she watched the Giant Squid move one of his tentacles up to the surface, feeling around for the source of the commotion. A soft breeze swept her brilliant red hair away from her face and he could see the freckles on her cheeks and nose stand out on her fair skin. He figured the sun must have brought them out over the summer for he had never been able to see them so clearly. He also just became aware that they looked really good on her, along with those bright brown eyes, those long eyelashes...

He realised he was staring and quickly and awkwardly turned his head back towards the lake, hoping she hadn't noticed his gawking.

They were silent for a few minutes, both looking out over the lake and both deep in their own thoughts. Feeling the need to break the silence, Harry cleared his throat.

"I suppose it would help to have some trust between us," Harry said. "I have no idea how to go about that though. Snape is about as approachable as a hungry leopard."

Ginny laughed and Harry grinned at her.

"Do you trust me?" she asked after her laughter died down.

"Yes, of course."

"Why?"

Harry was taken aback. "Er, because you're kind to me. You are caring, funny, easy to talk to."

A small blush crept up Ginny's cheeks.

"And?"

"And...I don't know. I guess I just know who you are?"

"Exactly. You know me. You know who I am, what kind of person I am. You know my history, my family, my friends. All of that helps to form a complete image of someone and that allows you to trust them more easily."

"I guess you're right. Though I cannot imagine sitting down with Snape for a nice conversation about his family over a spot of tea."

"Ha, neither can I," Ginny chuckled.

"But I'll keep it in mind. Who knows? The opportunity might present itself someday." He said sarcastically.

"That's the spirit Harry!" Ginny joked.

They laughed at the idea of Harry and Snape getting closer, which was ridiculous of course. Then Harry turned solemn once more.

Ginny seemed to notice his mood and tried a different technique to distract him from any depressing thoughts of Occlumency. She took out a notebook and quill from her bag. "Now, let's hear about those Quidditch try-outs. Have you planned anything yet?"

It was five minutes before seven when Harry made his way from the Great Hall down to the Dungeons, the feeling of dread returning in full. As he stood in front of the dark wooden door to Snape's office he tried not to think about the last Occlumency lesson he had endured there. He took a deep breath, in a fruitless attempt at calming his nerves, and raised his hand to knock on the door. When the terse "Enter" came from within, he pushed the door open and went inside.

This time Snape was not seated behind his desk, occupying himself with paperwork. He stood in front of his desk, facing the door and straddling his wand with an eerie movement that reminded Harry a lot of the way Voldemort held his wand for the first time after his resurrection. He felt a shudder roll along his spine but he broadened his shoulders and raised his chin. He would not back down from this obvious threat.

When Snape noticed his changed demeanour, however, he smiled cruelly.

Uh oh.

"Well, Potter, I must say I had not expected the two of us to find ourselves in this irksome situation again. Well played."

Harry did not reply. 

"Not to worry, I don't believe it will take much to make these meetings as disastrous as they were last year. You'll be able to convince Dumbledore to teach you soon enough."

Something clicked in Harry's mind and he frowned.

"You seem to be under the impression, sir, that this was all part of some game, a way to trick Dumbledore in having no choice but to teach me. I can assure you that I was sincere when I chose you as my teacher."

"Fine," Snape snapped, "we'll see how long that persistence of you will last. You are welcome, of course, to try your best," he ended with a mocking sneer.

"I will," Harry said defiantly.

"We'll see," Snape repeated in a deadly tone.

Snape turned towards a cabinet and took out the dreaded Pensieve. Harry looked away as shame crept up from his neck while Snape took out strands of memories and put them in the stone basin.

"If you truly want my instruction there are a few conditions," Snape said as he carefully put the Pensieve back in the cabinet and locked it with a powerful charm. Then he turned back towards Harry and locked eyes.

"First, my time is very valuable and there are a million things more worthwhile I could spend it on. If I so much as suspect you're not giving these lesson one hundred percent of your effort, I will end them instantly. Am I clear?"

"Crystal," Harry said cheekily. He had already made a deal with himself that he would not back down or give up on these lessons this time. He would see them through and master Occlumency if it was the last thing he would do.

Snape set his jaw. "Second, and I can't believe I'm telling you this yet again, you will refrain from disrespecting me at all times. I understand this is a foreign concept to you, but I will not tolerate any impertinent behaviour from you. If you want these lessons to continue, you will keep your insolent tongue in check."

"Yes, sir," Harry replied, showing that he was serious about these lessons.

"That also means that you will not use the Dark Lord's name in my presence, Potter."

Harry cocked an eyebrow sceptically, but nodded his acquiesce. Whatever it takes I guess.

"And last," Snape continued darkly, "you will never, ever, utter a word to anyone of anything you hear, see or feel during these lessons."

"Not even my friends?" Harry blurted out.

"Especially not your friends," Snape growled. "You will respect my privacy this time."

Harry felt his face heat up at the reminder and nodded his head quickly. "The only memories I'll experience here will be my own anyway," he muttered.

"Not if you actually try this time," Snape sneered as he walked back in front of his desk. "Any questions?"

"How come you're allowed to put away your memories in a Pensieve and I don't?"

"Because you will aim to keep your memories from me. If there are no memories left worth protecting, then what other incentive do you have?"

"The fact that I truly want to get rid of the visions?" Harry levelled with furrowed brows.

"We'll see." Snape shook off his cloak and draped it over his desk. "Take out your wand and get ready to begin."

Harry stood in front of the professor with his wand loosely in his hand, awaiting further instruction. Hoping there would be further instruction...

"Clear your mind, let go of all thoughts and concentrate."

Harry wrinkled his forehead, unsure just how he was supposed to rid his mind of any flow of thoughts.

"Three, two, one. Legilimens!"

Instantly Harry was hit with Snape's dark and demanding presence in his mind and flashes of memories were thrown at him. He was four and Dudley pushed him down the stairs. He saw him laughing playfully as if it were nothing but a game. He was nine and making breakfast when his Aunt suddenly yelled at him to use cream instead of milk. He was eleven and hugged Hagrid just as he was about to board the Hogwarts Express, feeling sad and depressed at having to leave his 'home'. He and Ron were sitting next to a hospital bed, solemnly watching over a petrified Hermione. Remus was opening an old trunk and releasing the Boggart that turned into a Dementor before Harry's eyes, cold fear gripping his heart.

He was powerless to stop the onslaught of memories.

The spell ended and Harry found himself on his hands and knees in front of a sour looking Potions Master.

"That was pathetic Potter. You put up no resistance at all. I could have used Legilimency on you in my sleep."

Harry felt the familiar anger flare up again and gritted his teeth as he stood up.

"Again," Snape said. This time he gave no warning before performing the dreaded spell.

Young Harry watched as his uncle burned his sweatshirt that had magically changed colours overnight. He saw Ginny laying unconscious on the wet floor of the Chamber of Secrets, Tom Riddle's appearance towering over her.

Stop it!

He jumped on his broom and was chased by a dragon while an audience watched in nervous tension. He was in a dark maze, running along Cedric Diggory to get to the shiny, golden cup, victory just within reach.

No!

Once more he was on the cold floor of Snape's office. For a fleeting moment he wondered if he had succeeded in throwing off the attack. But one look at the sneering man before him crushed that hope.

"I thought you said you wanted to succeed in this Potter? That you were going to try?"

"I am trying. I just don't know what I can do to stop it," Harry bit out.

"I told you to clear your mind!"

"I don't know how!"

"Clearly," Snape spat at him. "It's not that hard to think of nothing, Potter. Especially with that near empty brain of yours."

Snape raised his wand. "Again."

Harry tried, he really did. He focused on thinking of nothing, but that in itself was a thought and it did not distract him enough from the whirling memories that ruled his mind.

"I can't believe you're this stupid, Potter," Snape said with a hint of tiredness as he ended the spell again. He pinched the area between his brows with closed eyes as if the lack of progress caused him great discomfort.

Harry was still kneeling on the floor, bowing his head low, and made no move to get up. His anger had abated and was now replaced by a feeling of weariness.

"Get up, Potter. We're done for today." Snape said as he turned back towards the cabinet were the Pensieve was hidden.

"No."

Snape stilled and glanced over his shoulder. "I beg your pardon?"

Harry looked up in determination. He would not allow Snape to give up on him.

"I'm not going to leave this room until I have made at least some progress," he said.

Snape stared at him with a slight frown.

"Please, Professor. Is there nothing else I could try to make this work? Any other method?" Harry inquired pleadingly.

A flicker of emotion crossed Snape's features before he turned his back towards Harry and leaned his hands on his desk. Harry waited for the Professor to formulate a reply.

"You are able to throw of the Imperius Curse, correct?" Snape said after a while.

Harry blinked in surprise at the sudden change of subject.

"Er, yes sir."

"And you have performed non-verbal spells," Snape said thoughtfully.

Harry wasn't sure if it was a question that needed answering so he quietly mumbled another "yes, sir."

There was a long silence. Harry got up from the floor and wearily stared at Snape's back, wondering if the man was ever going to turn around and tell him off.

Snape heaved a frustrated sigh and finally turned around.

"By all accounts, you should have no problems with this Potter," Snape said, "Throwing off an Imperius Curse takes a great amount of mental strength, which is what you need to be able to occlude. That and the nonverbal spells seemingly come easy to you, even though they should not be, especially at your age. What I don't understand is how you can be so capable of the one, yet be so incredibly inept at the other?"

Harry was shocked to find there was some form of compliment hidden between those lines. He considered Snape's line of thought. Why was he so bad at Occlumency?

"Sir, I don't think the Imperius Curse and Legilimency have quite the same effect and therefore don't work the same for me."

"Explain."

"It's just that, with Legilimency and Occlumency there are memories involved. That's not the case with the Imperius Curse."

Snape crossed his arms and considered his student.

"You can conjure a Patronus, yes?"

Harry nodded.

"That requires mental focus and involves memories."

Harry looked away. "A Patronus requires happy memories."

Realization dawned on Snape's face.

"Even if you would do better if we focused on more pleasant memories, the Dark Lord will focus on your darker ones. You need to be able to repel those attacks, or these lessons won't do any good."

Snape looked thoughtfully at Harry, black eyes boring into his and Harry held back a squirm.

"Go back to your dormitory, Potter," Snape said eventually.

"But, sir-"

"Potter, It's late and I still have much work to do," Snape snapped, his calm demeanor gone. He walked to the door and held it open, waiting impatiently for Harry to exit his office.

Harry pursed his lips, feeling deflated at the sudden dismissal, but made his way to the door. As he passed Snape a firm hand on his shoulder stopped him. He looked up at Snape questionably.

"I will think about other methods over the weekend, Potter. I'll see you back here Monday evening, same time. Try to clear your mind before bed."

With that Snape steered Harry out of his office and shut the door behind him. Harry looked back at the door with a frown on his face and with his mouth hanging open in disbelieving awe. He replayed the last thing Snape had uttered before the loud thud of the door signaled it closed. He felt the corners of his mouth curl up in a slight smile. As he walked back to Gryffindor Tower, he couldn't help but feel a little victorious.

Ron and Hermione sat waiting for him as they had all week and immediately asked how his first Occlumency lesson went.

"I was a disaster, unsurprisingly," Harry said while rubbing his temples in an attempt to rid himself of the lingering headache the lesson had spurred on.

"Oh Harry, just give it time. I'm sure it will get better," Hermione replied in concern.

"I'm not going to give up, Hermione. Not this time. Besides, Snape said he would look into some different methods of learning Occlumency."

Hermione sat up at that.

"He said that?"

"Yeah, just as I was about to leave."

"Harry, that's saying a lot if he's willing to change his tactics for you."

Harry leaned back in the chair and heaved a sigh. "We'll see. I'm not sure I'll like any tactic Snape can come up with."

"With your luck, it will turn out to be even more gruesome than you have had to endure so far," Ron said darkly.

"Don't be daft. Snape is a teacher and probably just as frustrated with the lack of progress as you are Harry," Hermione said, "no offense."

Harry waved it away, not holding his own progress in high regards either.

"And he has Dumbledore breathing down his neck too," Ron said thoughtfully. 

"He had that last year as well, but that didn't make it any better," Harry replied.

"Well, you have to admit, Dumbledore was reticent and uncommunicative last year."

"True," is all Harry said to that, knowing exactly why Dumbledore had been so restrained then.

"Well, I'm just glad that you and Snape are finally both trying to get this to work," Hermione said, ending the conversation before they headed to bed.

Harry pulled the blankets up and cleared his mind as much as he could before closing his eyes. He was still a little skeptical but, like Hermione, a part of him felt confident that he and Snape could finally make this work. 

---

"Albus, this isn't going to work."

The old headmaster was seated comfortably in an armchair in front of the fire and looked up smiling as the youngest member of his staff entered his office with a frustrated sigh.

"Good evening, Severus. Have a seat, will you?"

Severus sat down hard and looked at his mentor and old friend.

"What can I help you with?"

"You can help by taking over Potter's Occlumency tutorage, like you should have done in the first place."

"Why, Severus, I was under the impression that you had come to terms with Harry's decision," Albus replied jovially.

Severus just raised an eyebrow at him, communicating what a ridiculous thought that was.

"What exactly is it that you are having trouble with?" Albus continued in his infuriatingly calm manner.

"The boy is a mess. He was just as inadequate as he was last year," Severus said with feeling.

"My boy, give it time. Like I said, I know Harry will try his best this time and that conviction has not left me."

"I'm not sure his best is good enough," Severus said thoughtfully.

"Severus-"

"No, I don't mean that I doubt his effort," Severus said quickly and then let out a sigh. "The boy is unable to detach himself from the memories and emotions that dwell inside him. Once I'm inside his mind, dark memories rise up automatically, without any effort on my part to pull them forth. And once in the throes of those memories, he is unable to shake them off."

"Do you know why?" Albus asked, though Severus had the distinct feeling the headmaster already knew the answer.

"He has had some very... trying experiences in his life. The memories of those events and the feelings that accompany them are holding him back. He has not come to terms with them and therefore lacks the power to get rid of them and force me out of his mind."

Severus looked away from the headmaster and stared at the dancing flames, thinking about his forays into Potter's mind.

"Each time I go in, I am engulfed in his emotions. Feelings of anger, fear, grief and guilt are always on the forefront of his mind."

"Things you yourself are not unfamiliar with," Albus hinted calmly.

Severus looked up sharply. "I'm not his therapist, Albus."

"No, but you are his teacher. And as his teacher you have found out a hurdle in his education, one you both must go over in order to proceed towards the goal of having him master the mental arts."

"I'm hardly the right person for that."

"On the contrary, there is no one better suited to get Harry where he needs to be."

At Severus' sceptical look he elaborated. "You and Harry are not so different, even though you might not see that yet. You have had similar experiences and are well-acquainted with the emotions you just described to me. I daresay you're still experiencing some of them at present." Albus looked pointedly at Severus over his half-moon glasses and Severus averted his eyes. Albus smiled sadly at him.

"I have always admired your resilience, Severus. You have the capacity to recover quickly from tough and difficult times. On the outside. On the inside, I know, you have not come to terms with everything yourself. And that makes you and Harry alike. You both have journeys to embark on and it will empower you both to take that journey together. And I trust you to take the lead."

"You ask too much. I'm not cut out for this, Albus," Severus said in a near whisper with a hint of desperation.

"My dear boy," Albus said with fondness, "you must know how highly I think of you. I truly have every confidence in you. I won't say it'll be easy. But I promise you, things will not look so bleary a few months from now."

Severus pursed his lips, not quite believing the headmaster but trusting his judgement all the same.

Albus stood up and Severus followed suit out of habit. Albus put his hand on the young man's shoulder and squeezed it in reassurance.

"And if you are ever in doubt, or in need of guidance yourself, never hesitate to knock at my door."

With that Albus steered him out of the office, bade him goodnight and closed the door.     

The weekend went by pleasantly. On Saturday morning the tryouts for the Gryffindor Quidditch team were held and it turned out to be a very chaotic afternoon. The tryouts lasted two hours and involved many complaints and several tantrums, even involving someone crashing their Comet into one of the goalposts, resulting in several broken teeth.

Eventually the players for the team were chosen. Ginny and Demelza Robins joined Katie Bell as Chasers, Jimmy Peakes and Ritchie Coote were chosen for the Beaters positions and Ron and Harry retained their positions as Keeper and Seeker.

A handful of students from Gryffindor and some from other houses had sat and watched, curious how the tryouts would go down. Luna and Kai-Enna were there as well, the latter of which ran up to Harry after he had changed back in his casual clothes.

"Harry, do you have some time this afternoon? I'm having a lot of trouble with the Stunning Spell."

"Oh, er," Harry started and looked around to ask Ron if he had any other plans for the afternoon.

"If you're busy we could do it some other time?" Kai-Enna said quickly.

"No way, we could do with some practice as well!" Suddenly Ginny, Ron, Katie and Seamus were next to them, enthusiastically urging him to join them in the Room of Requirement. Harry relented and made his way with them to the seventh floor. Kai-Enna followed them with a smile, but Harry couldn't help but notice she looked a bit deflated.

They spent the afternoon practising spells and jinxes. Harry helped Kai-Enna get started on her Stunning Spell, but was soon taken apart by the other sixth years who interrogated him on his nonverbal spellwork. Again, it was a funny undertaking as Harry watched his classmates huff and puff trying to get their spells to work without uttering an incantation. He himself had a little trouble the first few times, which led the others to mock him about how his first success must have been a fluke. Yet after only a few tries he was able to summon cushions to him from the other side of the room without uttering a word. He felt a rush of excitement after each successful attempt and vowed to himself to practise a lot in order to have complete control. He couldn't help but feel this was going to give him an advantage in the war.

 Come dinnertime they all left the Room of Requirement in high spirits. The physical exercise, in combination with the verbal sparring, had helped to blow of some steam from the first week of school, which had proved to be every bit as exhausting as the teachers had promised.

Kai-Enna had come to him to thank him personally for the help, even shook his hand awkwardly, before heading off to the Hufflepuff table. Harry frowned quizzically at Ginny, but she only pursed her lips before heading off to find Demelza Robins at the Gryffindor table.

Harry just shrugged and joined Ron and Hermione for dinner, not sure what the younger girls were on about, but finding he really didn't have enough energy to spend considering their mysterious behaviour. With everything else he had going on it was a challenge not to feel overwhelmed as it was. The first week at school was a lot to take in, and Harry was glad he could spend his Sunday with his friends, lazing about. Of course, Hermione pushed them to get their schoolwork done, but Ron and Harry managed to evade her meddling long enough to play some games of Exploding Snap.

All too soon Sunday turned to Monday and they were back in the classrooms. Flitwick and McGonagall were brutal in assigning their homework, both not pleased with the lack of progress the students were making on their subjects. Snape was his usual dour self and warned them he would kick some of them out of his NEWT class if they didn't start to show any improvement.

It had been a long and trying day when Harry made his way to the Potions Master's office for Occlumency, and a dull headache was ever present to annoy him. With a renewed sense of dread and anxiety he knocked at the door.

"Enter."

Harry slipped inside and took a look around the office. Where Snape usually had gotten rid of the chair in front of his desk prior to their lesson, there were now two comfortable looking armchairs facing each other  in front of a calmly burning fire. The odd thing was that the chairs were so close to one another that Harry had to look twice to make sure they were not actually touching. There was no table between them or next to them, just two chairs sitting on a rug.

"Sit down," Snape said and pointed in the direction of the chairs.

Harry hesitated, quite sure that Snape would be occupying one of them as well and not feeling comfortable at the prospect of having the snarky man in such close proximity.

"Now, Potter. We don't have all evening," Snape ordered irritably.

With dread, he moved towards the chair that was closest to the door and as he sat down he tried to scoot the chair a little backwards to get further away from the opposite chair before Snape would swoop down in it.

But Snape did not sit down yet. Instead he shrugged off his outer robes and pushed his sleeves up a little. Harry could just make out a tiny bit of the Dark Mark etched in his skin and he quickly averted his eyes, suddenly feeling as if he was intruding by staring.

"I have spent the weekend considering different options for our lessons. I have consulted with the Headmaster and he seems adamant that we try a more... gentle approach."

"And do you agree with him, sir?"

Snape glanced at Harry over his shoulder. "Yes. I must admit the notion seemed unpleasant at best. But as the Headmaster says, it couldn't hurt to try." He sneered as if that was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard of.

He pulled out his wand and put it on his desk, far out of reach. Then turned around and held up his hand expectantly.

"Your wand."

"What?"

"Give me your wand, Potter."

Harry felt his heart-rate quicken. "Why?"

"Because you have no need for it this evening. Like I said, we will try a different method. And I would prefer not to be at the receiving end of your temper tantrums again." Snape cast him a knowing look.

Harry hesitated.

"Or we could just stop these lessons altogether," Snape sneered.

Harry shot him a glare as he reluctantly pulled out his wand and handed it over to the Professor, who put it down next to his own on the desk. With a wave of his hand he then dimmed the other lights in the room so that the only source of light was the fire next to the chairs. Harry rather thought it added to the creepiness of the scene but didn't comment on it as Snape moved towards the other chair and sat down in it. Their knees were almost touching and Harry had to suppress the urge to squirm in his seat.

"Occlumency," Snape started off in his teacher-like voice, "is more than just protecting your mind from an attack by a Legilimens. It is the art of sifting through your memories, discarding those that are insignificant and keeping close those that hold value. It is the ability to detach yourself from certain memories, being able to view them objectively, as an observer if you will, rather than drown yourself in them. The latter will make it all the more difficult to claw your way back out and prevents you from performing any kind of occlusion."

Harry furrowed his brows, not sure what the man meant by that.

"For example," Snape continued at Harry's confused look, "if the Dark Lord chooses to pull forth a particular painful memory, you will not be able to detach yourself from it. It will engulf you, pulling you down in the turmoil of emotions. Trapping you in a sense. And by doing so, preventing you from fighting back."

"It does feel like I'm drowning every time you perform Legilimency on me. It feels as if there is nothing else but that memory and I can't push it away," Harry said.

Snape nodded. "Whenever I'm inside your mind, an unstoppable train of unpleasant memories takes over. I am not pulling those memories from the recesses of your mind, your mind pulls them forth on its own. It has become the natural reaction of your mind."

"But why?" Harry asked.

"It seems that you have more distressing memories than most your age. And they are powerful enough to overshadow the more pleasant memories you might have. As you have had some very trying experiences in your live, many of which involving the Dark Lord of course, it is not very surprising that they have rooted deep within you. And it is also possible that you have not come to terms with all those experiences, which prevents you to detach yourself from the related memories and treat them objectively enough to dismiss them when a mental attack occurs."

"Professor, I have accepted all those things. It is something I have become used to by now. It is not as if I go around feeling sorry for myself all the time."

"Perhaps you seem to have accepted it for the outside world. Your mind is telling me something else, however. Like I said before, you do not have the ability yet to hide your mind, your deepest desires and regrets, from me."

"You don't know me," Harry said through clenched teeth, feeling extremely uncomfortable at the thought that Snape knew more about him than he himself did.

"More than you know," Snape replied solemnly while turning his head to stare into the fire.

Harry frowned at the lack of response he got from the Professor and felt a dull frustration rise up his chest.

"Well, what do you propose we do then? If I can't detach myself from the horrible memories in my mind, what good will practising do?"

Snape looked back at him and his black eyes bored into his. "You will need a guide, an anchor if you will. We will need to sift through your memories gently and together. We need to force you to immerse yourself in the memories that seem to have such a hold on you."

Harry shifted in his seat. He did not like the sound of that. At all.

"I won't say it will be easy, it will in fact be rather unpleasant. But I and the Headmaster are convinced this is the only way to take back control over your own mind. If you don't trust my judgement, at least trust his."

It was Harry's turn to stare into the fire. The calm cackling sound of the flames slowly burning away the wood helped to calm his nerves and sort his thoughts. The only way... He had told himself that he would do whatever it took to control his mind, to shut out the visions Voldemort sent his way. He owed it to everyone he had put in danger in the past, for his lack of mental control. He owed it to Sirius...

"Fine," he heard his own voice say, feeling eerily detached from himself.

"There is one more thing," Snape said in response and Harry suddenly found that Snape was the one looking uncomfortable. "The Headmaster and I believe that the visions of the Dark Lord are not only the result of him breaking into your mind, but rather you breaking into his."

Harry's head snapped up and he looked at Snape incredulously. "You think I deliberately delve into his mind to see all that? You really think I want to?" he said angrily.

"I did not say that, you idiot," Snape replied crossly before taking a few breaths to keep his temper in check. "I don't think you do this deliberately. It is probably a side-effect of the connection you share with the Dark Lord. As you have visions when he is experiencing a particular intense emotion, so too do these visions occur when your own emotions are heightened. This tells me that just occluding your mind will not completely rid you of the visions. Therefore we will make an attempt at Legilimency as well."

"Do you think he is aware of me then?" Harry asked with unease.

Snape hesitated for a fraction before allowing himself to continue, choosing his words carefully.

"I have no evidence to support that he is experiencing similar visions of your day to day live in the same manner you do of his. However, it is unlikely that he is unaware of your connection to his mind, seeing as he deliberately sent you that vision last term. He does have some control over them, and might even feel your presence in his mind at times. But I don't think he is aware of you all the time."

Harry nodded and looked at his hands, trying to make his tumbling thoughts get back in order.

"Okay, so... Legilimency then. How will I learn that?" He finally asked quietly.

"I will guide you through your mind and my own," Snape said detachedly. "We will do so gently at first, and slowly get you to do it on your own. It will take a lot of practise, so I'm afraid we're stuck in this for the rest of the year," a hint of displeasure seeped through his voice.

"But that will involve me seeing your memories then? Deliberately, I mean," Harry said with unease.

"Yes, Potter, I'm glad to see some of my lectures managed to stick in that feeble brain of yours," Snape said, throwing him a dirty look. "And I hope I will not have to remind you that you gave your word not to utter anything you see here to anyone?"

"No, Professor. Of course not," Harry replied in earnest. Normally Snape's snarky comments were to be expected and considered perfectly normal. Right now, however, Harry had the distinct feeling that Snape lashed out because he was extremely uncomfortable about the whole Legilimency thing, and did not look forward to having Harry snoop around in his mind in the same way he did in Harry's. Somehow that made him feel a little better. They were both in this together, trying as it may be.

Snape gave a curt nod in acceptance of Harry's promise and moved to lay his forearms on his knees, his bare hands with his palms up.

"I have come to the conclusion that touch helps you to anchor your being and have more control over your mind and emotions. It helped you to recover from your visions in the past, and it will help with the mental sparring we're about to undertake. So I want you to lay your hands on mine before we get started."

Harry gulped and made no move to raise his hands from the armrest.

Snape looked him in the eye, annoyance showed clearly in his black orbs. But something else as well. Harry was surprised to find understanding in them.

"Believe me, Potter, I feel just as disinclined about this as you do. But if we want to make this work, we have no other choice but to keep going forward. Can I trust you to try?"

Harry stared at those black orbs, willing to find some form of reassurance in them.

"Yes," he replied with determination.

He moved his hands and hovered them over Snape's.

"And can I trust you to try?" He asked quietly.

Snape's eyes bored into his. "Yes," he said without hesitation.

Satisfied with that, Harry carefully laid his hands on Snape's and rested them there. Snape's hands felt a little rough, probably from years of cutting and grinding Potions ingredients.  

"I want you to focus on your earliest memories of childhood. You don't have to do anything else. Don't try to throw me out, just let the memories play out."

Harry let out a small breath. This was it then.

"Ready?"

Harry nodded and stared into his teacher's eyes, focusing on memories of his younger years with the Dursleys.

"One, two, three, Legilimens." Snape's voice was calm and collected and Harry felt the presence entering his mind slowly. It was the most gentle feeling he had ever had in his experience with the mental arts. It occurred to Harry that Snape had not used a wand to initiate the spell and wondered if that was why if felt less harsh.

He felt like he was gently floating down, through a sea of memories, towards the ones of his childhood. Once he "landed" a scene materialized in his mind's eye. He was in the Dursley's kitchen and he was making breakfast. He figured he was about six years old and he was putting eggs in a skillet to make scrambled eggs for his family. In another pan some sausages and tomatoes were baking away. Today was an important day, for his uncle expected to get a promotion at work, so everything had to be perfect to start his day off well.

As young Harry took a large can of milk out of the fridge, older Harry shuddered in apprehension of the familiar scene.

As young Harry opened the can and was about to pour in the milk, Aunt Petunia stormed in and started yelling at him.

"Why are you using milk, boy! How many times do I have to tell you to use cream?"

The shock of her sudden and loud presence made Harry jump and the can slid out of his small hands and next thing he knew the kitchen floor was covered in milk.

"Look at what you're doing, you idiot!" Aunt Petunia shrieked. "Clean this mess up. Quickly, before your uncle get's downstairs. I don't want anything to distract him from this important day."

"Sorry, Aunt Petunia," Harry said in a small voice as he quickly grabbed some towels to mop up the spilt milk.

"You better be sorry," she snapped before she left the kitchen.

Once he had cleaned the floor he straightened and went back to the stove. To his horror, the sausages and tomatoes had burned in the meantime and the eggs he was supposed to scramble had turned out as a messy omelette.

He quickly turned off the stove and tried to see if he could save any of the sausages but none of them would be edible. As if on cue, the thundering sound of his uncle and cousin coming down the stairs could be heard.

As soon as his uncle entered the kitchen his angry eyes sought out the young boy and he advanced on him. Young Harry backed up into the kitchen counter, trying to make himself invisible to no avail. Uncle Vernon grabbed a fistful of hair at the back of his head and pulled him from the kitchen towards the hallway. He opened the cupboard under the stairs and threw his nephew in before locking the door shut.

"You better hope this does not have an effect on my workday, boy!" Uncle Vernon shouted.

Fast forward to many hours later, the red face of his uncle was again visible through the cracks of the cupboard door. "There will be no dinner for you today, boy. You have cost me my promotion. I hope you're proud of yourself."

Snape's mind gave a nudge and another memory came into view.

This time young Harry was doing chores in his relatives' garden, working hard in the burning sun, with nothing to protect himself. This too resulted in his aunt yelling at him and berating him for laziness, as he had not finished everything in time.

Another nudge.

Young Harry was shoved hard against the wall of the hall with a menacing looking Uncle Vernon in his face. He was dragged out to the backyard and made to undress.

Harry felt Snape's presence in his mind tense at this, though he couldn't fathom why. This was one of the lesser punishments he had to endure.

Uncle Vernon grabbed his sweater and made him watch while he set it on fire. That morning he had gone to school with a green-coloured sweater, but he had come home with a red-coloured one. He had no clue how it had happened but the teacher had noticed. And that had pissed his uncle off.

He watched solemnly as his sweater turned to ashes. Uncle Vernon turned around and sneered at him. "You know, back in the day they used to burn witches too," he said threateningly.
A few more of these memories passed by until Snape decided they needed a break and ended the mental connection.

Immediately Harry retracted his hands and brought them up to massage his temples.

"Your relatives seem to be lovely people," Snape said sarcastically.

Harry threw him a quick glare. "I'm sure they'd think the same of you."

The corner of Snape's lip curled up. "No doubt."

He pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to his student.

"Chocolate?" Harry asked disbelievingly.

"I will give you some Pain Relieving Potion once we're done here, but I need your mind to be sharp while we're doing this. I believe you're familiar with the healing properties of chocolate?"

Harry nodded and took a small bite from the chocolate bar. He felt rather odd sitting in Snape's dark office, nibbling at some chocolate and sitting in very close proximity to the Potions Master. Ron would have kittens when he told him. He gave an involuntary chuckle.

"Is something amusing you, Potter?"

"No, sir," Harry replied quickly.

Snape pursed his lips but didn't comment further on the topic. Instead he changed it.

"So tell me about these memories, Potter."

Harry looked at him quizzically. "What is there to tell, sir?"

"For starters, what is the reason for their animosity towards you?"

This time Harry snorted. "Animosity? Oh they hate me. Everything about me, really," he said casually.

"Why?"

"What's this got to do with-"

"It just does," Snape said with such finality that it was clear there would be no discussion about it. "Now answer the question, Potter."

Harry let out a sigh. "They just hate magic and everything related to the magical world. Including me."

"Why did they make you work hours on end?"

Harry shrugged. "I dunno. Convenience?" At Snape's raised eyebrow he decided to continue. "I think it was partly to try and "work" the magic out of me, and partly to not have to deal with me so much. I was an inconvenience to them, like a dirty spot on a glass table they couldn't get rid of. They had their own perfect little life and I cast a shadow upon that when I was put under their care. That's why they treated me like that, they wished they didn't have to put up with me at all."

"I imagine you must resent them for that."

Harry frowned. "No, I don't. I mean, not really." He surprised himself by admitting that.

Snape looked at him imploringly. "Explain."

"Well, they didn't choose to have me put on their doorstep."

"As I recall, you didn't either," Snape remarked.

Harry ignored him. "I made their lives a living hell. They had to feed me, give me clothes, bring me to school. If it wasn't for me they would have nothing to worry about."

Snape stared at him incredulously. "There is so much wrong with those three sentences, I don't even know where to start."

"Sir?"

"First of all, the things you mentioned they had to do are the most minimal things one would do for a child in their care. It is a inherent fact that comes with taking in a child. And even you must admit they failed on those minimal objectives. We just saw your uncle denying you food, for a reason that is utterly ridiculous if I might add."

"And secondly, you didn't cause any of their discomfort. They did that themselves. You never chose to be delivered to them and to be forced to grow up under their "care". You were only an infant. Surely you must see the insanity of taking on all the responsibility yourself?"

"The fact remains that they were forced to take me in as well. They would have brought me to another family if they weren't afraid of the consequences of that action."

"Why are you defending them, Potter?"

"I'm not! I'm just saying that I understand their hardships in this story."

"Their hardships?" Snape uttered disbelievingly.

"What would you have done then? You have hated me since the first time you laid eyes on me. Would you have taken me in just like that? Wouldn't it be just the same?"

"I would not mistreat a child under my care like that," Snape bit out at the hidden accusation.

Harry was going to deny that he was mistreated but thought better of it.

"Professor, what is the point of this? I don't care about the way they treated me, it's in the past. I'm over it."

"No you're not. If you were then you would have no trouble to shake off those memories and occlude your mind from me."

"That's just because I don't know how to do that."

"Your mind knows how to do that, Potter. You're just not allowing it to do what it is designed to do. Protecting your sanity."

Harry let out an angry breath.

"Let's try again. And get that anger under control, Potter, before you kick up another scene."

He laid his hands down again, expecting Harry to take up their earlier positions. Harry glared at the man but put his hands back in place.

Again he floated down a river of memories that called to him but were ignored by Snape's guidance towards another, specific memory.

Harry was shocked to find himself being chased by Dudley and his gang. Once in the alley he was beaten up before the Patronus-like doe appeared and drove off his attackers. He wandered the streets, caught up in feelings of desperation, anger, fear and guilt. Above all, guilt was the most present.

Then he entered his relatives' house and was yelled at by Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, who accused him of having used magic against their son. Then he was smacked hard in the face and roughly pushed against the wall before his uncle dragged him painfully up the stairs and threw him in his bedroom.

Snape withdrew from his mind and Harry put a hand to the side of his face. He would swear he could feel the lingering, phantom pain of his uncle's fist connecting with his skull.

Snape sat very still in his seat, looking dangerously close to yelling himself.

"How many times have the muggles hit you?" he said quietly, in barely contained anger.

Harry shrugged thinking it wasn't a big deal. "Not that many."

"You're a terrible liar, Potter."

Harry looked down and fidgeted with his robes, trying to hide his embarrassment. Snape heaved a frustrated sigh and raised his hand to rub his temples.

Harry flinched at the sudden movement, his reflexes were all jumbled caused by the renewed anxiety that last memory brought on.

Snape stilled his movement as he noticed Harry jump and slowly lowered his arm.

"I'm not going to hit you," he said with a surprisingly gentle voice.

Harry nodded and averted his eyes as his cheeks burned. "Yeah, I know," he muttered.

After a short silence, Snape spoke up again. "Does anyone know?"

Harry shook his head. "No one knows the details."  Except for you, he thought with a hint of regret. "But Dumbledore and McGonagall know I hate going back there for the summer."

"They never asked why? Or did you just not bother to tell them?"

"It wouldn't have made a difference either way," Harry said a little agitated.

"So you kept silent, choosing to wallow in self-pity?" Snape sneered.

"You presume too much, professor," Harry said with a tired sigh. Snape said nothing and waited for Harry to elaborate. "It's just that I have told people, adults, in the past. My primary school teacher was the first I told, but that ended in a disaster. The Dursleys twisted the story and convinced her that I had a problem with lying and that they would do what they could to "help" me. I'm sure you can imagine the sort of "help" that would mean." He glanced at Snape from under his fringe.

Snape pursed his lips.

"And then later on when the principal asked about some of my bruises I was just about to try again and tell him. But then my Uncle came into his office with Dudley in tow. Dudley had gotten into a fight with his classmates, apparently, but as soon as Uncle Vernon saw me sitting there he twisted the story again and made it so that it seemed as if I was the one that had attacked Dudley. I was suspended from school for a week and locked up in the cupboard at home."

Snape's eyes flared at that but he kept silent.

"So you see, sir? It doesn't matter whom I tell. The outcome is always unpleasant."

Harry made eye-contact with the man across from him and thought that he saw a flicker of recognition in those black eyes.

"Dumbledore would not have allowed you to go back there if he knew this," Snape said bitterly.

"Dumbledore was the one who told me I had to go back. There was no other option. As long as the Dursleys didn't kill me, Privet Drive would be the safest place for me to stay over the summer because of the wards."

"I find that hard to believe," Snape replied tersely.

Harry shrugged. "Believe what you wish. It doesn't matter, I'm not going back there."
"Where will you go, then?" Snape surprised Harry with a hint of curiosity.

"I don't know. I'll figure it out," Harry evaded.

"I see."

Another silence ensued before Snape let out a long sigh.  

"Let's end the lesson for today," he said and stood up to get a Pain Reliever Potion from his cabinet.

Harry's mind replayed the last memory as he wearily watched Snape rummage in his cabinet. Then another thought hit him.

"Sir, you haven't asked about the doe."

Snape stilled for a second before continuing his search for the potion. "Indeed."

"You knew," Harry stated as his mind put two and two together. 

Snape turned around, potion vial in hand and walked back towards the chairs.

"I was on guard duty that day,"  he said stiffly.

"That was your... Patronus?" Harry asked in awe. At Snape's stiff nod he felt a rush of excitement. "My mum's Patronus was a doe."

Snape visibly tensed at that and quickly handed Harry the vial. He turned back towards his desk. "The form of a corporeal Patronus is not unique. There are millions of wizards, Potter. It's not difficult to imagine that you're not the only one with a stag Patronus, for instance."

Harry's face faltered. Of course Snape was right, it was just a coincidence that he had the same Patronus as his mother. But something else had caught his attention.

"You know my Patronus is a stag?" Harry said with a hint of surprise in his voice.

Snape scoffed. "I would be surprised if anyone didn't know, Potter."

"Right," Harry said as he bowed his head. He opened the vial and downed the Potion, almost immediately feeling his headache drain away.

"Sir, why did your Patronus look like that?" He inquired as he handed back the empty vial.

Snape moved his chair back into a normal position as he spoke. "Some are able to alter the appearance of their Patronus. It won't surprise you that this takes a great deal of mental effort and focus." Snape then looked up and his eyes once again bored into Harry's. "As well as the right memories."

When Snape had dismissed him, Harry made his way back to Gryffindor Tower, all the way wondering what Snape had meant with those last words.     

The next weeks went by in a blur of activities. Harry's world was dominated by schoolwork and his lessons with Snape, which he now had twice a week. If he was lucky enough to get some spare time, it was quickly filled with either Quidditch practise or sessions with the DA. At the end of each day he was exhausted and had no trouble falling asleep. Which was a blessing because it meant all thoughts of Sirius and the usual accompanying feelings stayed at bay.

Unfortunately, his nightmares had come back full force. They almost always contained scenes of his relatives chasing him, beating him or scaring him in any other way. Snape had told him that that was to be expected.

"You're experiencing the effects of our lessons, Potter," Snape said one evening after Harry had voiced his concerns. "I believe they will lessen once you have learned to control the memories in your mind."

They had worked on the memories of Harry's childhood for the past weeks. So far, Harry had not yet been able to throw Snape out of his mind, or distract him by pulling up other memories. While he got more and more impatient for their unnerving trips down memory lane to have the desired result, Snape seemed content with the pace of Harry's progress, much to Harry's surprise. He did not know what had brought on the change in Snape's teaching methods, changing him from the horrific bully from last year, to the somewhat understanding (yet still snarky) person that taught him today.

Harry was not going complain though. While diving into some of his worst memories was definitely one of the most unnerving and disheartening experiences he had had, it was not as bad as he initially thought it would be. It seemed as if Snape was actually trying to be civil, at least, which helped tremendously in setting an even ground for their lessons. And while he was nowhere near friendly, on the contrary he was still as dark and brooding as ever, he was not as malicious as he used to be.

At least, not during their Occlumency lessons. In Potions it was a whole other story.

"Potter!"

Harry, who had been concentrating on counting his Sopophorous Beans, jumped up when his name was yelled across the classroom.

Snape strode swiftly towards his workbench and looked disdainfully down his nose at Harry's potion, which was supposed to become an Elixir to induce Euphoria.

"Tell me, Potter, can you count?"

Behind Snape, Malfoy and the other Slytherins snickered.

"Yes, sir," Harry said, wondering where he could have gone wrong. He had not added his beans yet, so that couldn't be it, right?

"Read to me the third instruction on the board," Snape said with a smug sneer.

Harry squinted through the potion fumes at the blackboard.

"After adding the Porcupine Quills, stir four times anti-clockwise..." 

Crap. He had stirred six times but saw now that he was meant to do that much later on in the recipe.

"How many times did you stir your Potion, Potter?" Snape asked despite knowing the answer.

"Six times, sir," Harry replied with a soft sigh.

"That's right. Clearly, your counting skills leave much to be desired. Perhaps I should assign you some extra homework to practice counting flobberworms?"

This time Malfoy and his cronies laughed out loud but Snape said nothing of it, he simply crossed his arms.

Harry gritted his teeth. "No sir."

"Then you may start again." Snape waved his wand and the contents of his cauldron vanished. Harry's mouth fell open but he quickly closed it shut when he saw Snape's smug look. That git, he thought. There's no way I have enough time to finish the potion if I have to start all over again.

Hermione looked as if she wanted to say exactly that, but Harry quickly nudged her foot with his own under their workbench to silence her. It was not worth losing points over, he decided, and he grudgingly grabbed a fresh Shrivelfig and started again.

At the end of the lesson, Harry handed in a brownish liquid where it should have been sunshine-yellow and left the classroom in a bad mood.

"You could have easily solved that mistake by adding less beans in the next step," Hermione told him on their way to the Great Hall.

Knowing that, however, did nothing to brighten his frame of mind. "Thanks, Hermione. That makes me feel loads better."

His bad mood continued throughout dinner. He bit out at Seamus and Dean who pestered him about holding another DA session soon and Kai-Enna and Luna received a dark glare when they walked up to him to ask about practicing the Impediment Jinx.

It also didn't help that he had not received any letters from Remus at all during his first weeks at school. The man had promised to write as soon as possible, but the lack of correspondence made Harry feel insecure and on edge. Ron told him he should just write a letter to Remus, thinking maybe Remus was too busy and had simply forgotten to write. That thought made Harry feel squeamish inside and he pushed that thought away to mull on later, as he had another session with his favourite Potions Master to look forward to.

Once he was inside the dreary office again he refrained from taking his usual seat by the fire and opted to stay in front of the man's desk with folded arms, taking a defiant stand.

"Why did you vanish my potion?" He inquired.

"Because you failed to follow the instructions, Potter," Snape said with a warning tone that said he did not like the attitude. Harry didn't care.

"Hermione told me it could have been righted. If you had just given me a chance, I would-"

"I do not give second chances," Snape interrupted. "Besides, had Miss Granger not been at your side today, cheering you on from the sidelines like a brainless fan, you would not even have known that the potion could be salvaged."

"Does that even matter though? I would have been able to turn in an acceptable potion," Harry fumed.

"And the grade would not have been yours," Snape sneered. "Failing to follow even the simplest of instructions means that you have no focus, no concentration, required to brew potions at NEWT level."

"Focus?  So this is about Occlumency then? It is your way of getting back at me for wasting your time during these lessons?" With each question Harry's voice grew louder.

"It is my way of teaching you that life does not give you second chances, so you better succeed the first time. Besides, if you cannot even follow these instructions, then there is no reason you should even take NEWT Potions!" Snape had stood up during his tirade.

Somewhere at the back of his mind Harry registered surprise that Snape would get so worked up about this, but his flaring temper prevented him from paying attention to that. Instead he glared at his professor and balled his fists at his sides.

Before he had a chance to retort, however, Snape had sat down again and waved his hand at the door.

"Leave, Potter. Your anger and frustration will be detrimental to your Occlumency session," he said in a voice much calmer than it was just seconds ago. "And I do not wish to waste an evening on your lack of temper control."

With that he was dismissed.

"Fine!" Harry said loudly as he stomped out the office and angrily made his way back to the Entrance Hall. He did not feel like facing Ron and Hermione in the Common Room so he wandered down a different part of the castle, trying to get his temper under control. The physical exertion of walking down endless corridors and going up and down flights of stairs, helped to ease his mind somewhat.

Eventually he decided to go to the Owlery, to visit Hedwig. She could always calm him down. And maybe he could start on that letter to Remus.

He entered the Owlery and was met with a concert of hoots. He found Hedwig easily among the barn owls and she flew towards him to land on his outstretched arm. She nipped at his hand affectionately and Harry couldn't help but smile at this magnificent animal. He went to sit in the windowsill with Hedwig and sat there for a while, stroking her feathers and looking out over the grounds of Hogwarts. His anger had abated and there was finally some space in his head to think clearly again. Looking back, he was thankful that his fit of temper had not brought on another of Voldemort's visions. He would have to be more careful and work on keeping his temper in check if he wanted to avoid the visions in the future.

Feeling at ease again, he took out a piece of parchment and a never-out Quill and thought hard and long about what he wanted to write to Remus. As soon as he had put his Quill to the paper, the door of the Owlery creaked open and he looked up.

Kai-Enna entered the Owlery, a sealed letter in her hand, and jumped as she noticed Harry.

"Harry! I didn't know you were here." She glanced at the letter in her hand before letting her arm fall down her side.

"I'll come back later," she said nervously and turned back towards the door.

"No, please, you can stay," Harry said quickly, wondering why she couldn't just sent the letter off while he was present.

"You sure?"

"Positive."

Kai-Enna smiled and walked towards one of the barn owls. Harry watched her while she fumbled to attach the letter to its foot. Apparently the owl became impatient because it started hooting and switching the weight on its feet and Kai-Enna lost her grip on the letter.

"Here let me help," Harry offered as he picked the letter off the floor. The address came into view but he quickly looked away to not be rude. He attached the letter to the owl's foot, which gave him an appreciating hoot before flying off to its destination.

"Gee, thanks Harry," Kai-Enna said sheepishly.

"No problem," he replied. Then he thought of their earlier meeting and felt a small pinch of shame.

"Listen, Kai, about earlier... I'm sorry I was rude to you and Luna about practising jinxes. I had a lot on my mind."

Kai-Enna nodded. "There's no need to apologize, I understand. School can be tough sometimes."

"It's no excuse to be rude to you though."

"Don't worry about it. Believe me, I get it," she smiled at him but it didn't show in her eyes.

"You okay?" Harry asked.

"Huh? Yeah, of course." She pointed her thumb over her shoulder. "Just, family stuff, you know."

"No, I don't know," Harry lightly teased.

"Oh, sorry Harry," Kai-Enna said with reddened cheeks.

Harry shrugged. "It's fine, don't worry." He looked back out the window. "So, your father then?"

Kai-Enna nodded. "Yeah, my mum has received some threats from him. She is concerned that he might have traced us down and could potentially want to get his revenge. I just wrote her that I'm fine and I don't expect him to be able to get to me at Hogwarts. I'm more concerned about her than of myself."

"That must be tough," Harry said. All he wanted in life was to have a family, yet hers was being destroyed from the inside. He could scarcely imagine what that must be like.

"It is, sometimes." Kai-Enna said. "But it's just something I have to deal with. Nothing to be done about it, anyway."

"That's a... refreshing way to think about things. You could ask your head of house for help, you know? Or Dumbledore," Harry offered.

"Yeah, I know. I just don't like to bother people you know? I don't want to be a nuisance or anything. People usually have a lot going on without me knocking at their door."

"Yeah, I can definitely relate to that," Harry admitted. He was not a talker either and mostly kept his problems to himself.

Kai-Enna looked at him closely. "I thought you might," she said. "So, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Just a lot on my mind."

"I understand," Kai-Enna said. "Anything I can help with?"

"Not really, unfortunately," Harry said.

Kai-Enna nodded and then turned to look out the window as well. "Sometimes, when I feel overwhelmed with everything I just come here or I take a walk along the lake. It helps to keep bad thoughts away. I don't know about you, but my thoughts are my worst enemy."

Harry nodded slightly, feeling he could relate to that statement. "Bad thoughts?" he asked, but immediately felt like that was a very personal question to ask. "Sorry, I should not ask you that."

"It's okay," she said, "my thoughts usually consist of insecurities, talking down on myself and such. Thoughts like, I'm not good enough, or, I can't do anything right, are thoughts that haunt me the most and they're petrifying."

Harry considered that and found they had that in common, though these thoughts did not cross his mind on a daily basis.

"That's why," Kai-Enna continued, "I have this kind of mantra that I repeat to myself whenever I feel down. It's not who I am that holds me back, it's who I think I'm not. I am good enough, I can do anything."

Harry looked at her, seeing her in a different light. He had once thought she was a very peculiar and insecure person, but right now he saw a strength in her that he had not seen before.

"Thanks for sharing that," he heard his own voice say.

"You're welcome! I hope it can help you too, someday."

"Yeah, I'm sure it will."

Kai-Enna beamed at him and turned away from the window. "I'll let you get back to your letter," she indicated the parchment he held loosely in his hand.

"Good night, Harry," she said and exited the Owlery.

Harry stared after her, at a loss for words. Then he glanced at the blank parchment and decided to finish his letter. I can do this.

Once he had finished his letter he went over it once more. He had written down how things were going at school and the things that had happened so far. Which was a lot to be honest and he hoped Remus wouldn't be too bored reading it. Even though he knew they were on good terms and the man didn't blame him for Sirius' death, there was still the anxious feeling whenever he reached out to Remus. He could not pinpoint the exact feeling and could therefore not put it into words.

"Rejection," Hermione said.

Harry had voiced his thoughts about Remus once he was back in the Common Room later that evening.  As it was pretty late, the Common Room was empty except for Ron and Hermione, who were seated near the fireplace, and Ginny and Colin Creevey who sat near the windows attempting to put some last-minute work to an essay that was due the next day.

"How can it be rejection, though?" Harry replied. "I'm not asking him for anything, am I?"

Hermione gave him a doubtful look. "You're asking him for his attention, though, aren't you? And that's my point. You're afraid he will turn his back on you, ignore you. In other words, you're afraid that he will reject you if you reach out to him."

Harry considered that. "I guess..."

"Blimey, Hermione, you should become a therapist or something!" Ron exclaimed.

Hermione blushed. "You think?"

"Now do me," Ron said.

Hermione raised an eyebrow and then shook her head. "You're hopeless, Ron."

She turned back to Harry. "You have nothing to worry about, Harry. Remus cares a great deal about you. He would never turn his back on you."

"I think that, deep down, I know that. It's just that I sometimes feel nervous about it, that's all. I mean, I was wholly convinced we would be on bad terms after... Sirius," he said in a low voice.

"Oh Harry, Remus doesn't blame you for that."

"No, I know that. At least I do now. But I spent almost the entire summer thinking he would."

"Well, he doesn't," Hermione said firmly.

"And we don't either," Ron jumped in with a surprisingly determination. "I know last year was a fiasco and we shouldn't have gone to the ministry. But it wasn't your fault we ended up there."

"Well, I did set you up to it," Harry mumbled, feeling his heartbeat quicken.

From the corner of his eye he saw a notebook being flung his way and if his Seeker reflexes hadn't made him duck in time, it would have hit him square in the face. Looking up he saw a fuming Ginny standing close to their spot with her hands balled into fists. In the corner of his eye Harry noticed that Colin had already gone upstairs.

"Don't you dare blame yourself for that, Harry Potter!" she said with barely contained anger.

Harry glanced at Ron but he looked as shocked at Ginny's outburst as Harry was. Harry just gaped at her, at a loss for words.

At his lack of response Ginny growled and then she spun around on her heel and went out of the portrait.

"What the hell is her problem all of a sudden?" Ron was the first to speak up.

Hermione sighed and stood up. "Honestly!" was all she said before she followed Ginny and disappeared through the portrait hole.

"Am I missing something?" Ron said to Harry, still gaping after the girls.

"I have no clue. But I think your sister is mad at me."

"You think?" Ron said sarcastically. "But for what?"

"Beats me," Harry said but a stone had dropped in his stomach at the Ginny's look.

They waited for 45 minutes but when neither of the girls returned and it was way past curfew, Harry and Ron decided to go look for them. Harry collected his Invisibility Cloak and the Marauders Map and took them downstairs. It turned out the girls were on the top floor of the Astronomy Tower.

Ron groaned. "Couldn't they have picked a closer spot to mope around?"

They swiftly and silently left the Common Room, listening closely before every turn and corner for the footsteps of a patrolling teacher or Filch.

They made it to the Astronomy Tower without running into trouble. Harry pushed open the door to the top floor and what he saw made his heart stop. Ginny and Hermione were huddled together on a large, stone windowsill. Ginny was crying and Hermione was rubbing circles on her back. They both looked up as they heard the door creak open.

"Hey," Harry said quietly.

Ginny looked away and wiped her face with her sleeve. Just as Harry thought she wasn't going to say anything to him, he heard her croaky voice across the room.

"Can you leave us?" It took Harry a few seconds to realise she was talking to Ron and Hermione. "Please?"

"Of course." Hermione hugged Ginny and then made her way to Ron. "Come on," she said as she pulled on his arm.

Harry held out his Invisibility Cloak to them. "Here."

Ron looked like he was about to protest, but Hermione took the bundle of fabric from Harry and pulled Ron along with her out of the room.

When the door closed behind him, Harry hesitantly stepped towards Ginny's curled up form. He climbed up on the windowsill and sat across from her. Not knowing what to say he decided to stay silent and wait for Ginny to make the first move.

Ginny had not yet looked at him, her glistening eyes were gazing out the window. From up here you had a perfect view of Hogwarts and its surrounding grounds. You could see the lake sparkling in the moonlight and the mountains behind it were magnificent, dark and mysterious. The forest could be seen as well, and it seemed to stretch on forever in the dark of the night.

"Do you remember when you came for me in the Chamber of Secrets?" Ginny's voice brought his attention back to her.

Harry nodded, though Ginny was still not looking at him. She apparently sensed it though as she continued talking.

"I have never felt so alone in my entire life. I couldn't breathe, the fear was just gripping my lungs so tightly. I was cold, there was no warmth around me, not even a sliver of compassion. I knew I would die then and I couldn't help but feel regret that I never got to see my mother again so I could tell her all about my first year at Hogwarts. I found myself wishing someone, anyone to come and get me out of there."

"I understand," Harry offered. Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say because an instant later Ginny's blazing eyes were on his and her brow was furrowed in an angry frown.

"No, you don't understand! I blamed myself, okay? I told myself I should not have wished for anyone to put himself in danger because of me. You nearly died that day! I can still call forth the vivid images of that wound on your arm, your dilated pupils as the Basilisk venom coursed through your veins. And it was because of me!"

"And Ron could have died if those boulders had fallen on him. Because of me! Lockhart was lucky to live but he is now in hospital, having no hope of ever regaining his memories, doomed to live on like a five-year old. Because of me! To this day, my mum has nightmares where she loses her children and she can't do anything about it. She wakes up screaming at least once a week. All because of me!"

Harry gaped at her and tried to form coherent words in his mind that he could use to let her know that none of that was her fault. He would never blame her for any of that. But she continued before he could say anything.

"Except for the fact that none of it is actually my fault."

Harry gaped at her.

"I was just a victim of a horrible psychopath, bent on the destruction of our world. I was just eleven years old, I was not nearly strong or experienced enough to repel his mental attacks. I was unable to see exactly what I was doing and what the consequences would be. It's not my fault, however hard it may be to accept that. None of it was my fault. Things just happened. And even though I played a part in it, I was not the initiator of any of those circumstances." Ginny's voice had calmed down considerably.

Harry swallowed and finally found his voice.

"Ginny, I never, ever blamed you for anything that happened back then," he said with firm determination, willing her to understand.

She finally looked at him and gave him a small smile. "I know, Harry. I know."

"Is that why you were so angry with me?" Harry asked.

"Do you see now that blaming yourself isn't the answer?" she replied.

Harry gazed out the window. He understood what she was trying to say, but it was difficult to fully accept that he wasn't completely accountable for the things that had happened.

"I know it is hard to accept," Ginny said as she looked closely at him. "I know cause it took me several years to finally come to terms with it. And you should give it time, give yourself time to heal. At first you will feel like there's nothing you can do but to hold onto that guilt. But that will get you nowhere and you will realise it once you devote your attention to it. You are not to blame for the choices of others, Harry. Nor are you to blame for the vicious things Voldemort does, or makes you do. And I know it isn't easy to separate yourself from those feelings of guilt. It takes time, and willpower. It takes a lot of courage as well, but you have enough of that to spare," she teased lightly.

Harry looked at her, really looked at her for once. Her bright brown eyes shone in the moonlight and even though they were red-rimmed from her crying he couldn't help but notice they were beautiful.

"How come you always know just what to say, when I don't know a single word to describe what I'm feeling?" he said in a near whisper.

She grinned. "I guess I have a knack for it, or something." Then she turned serious again. "But really, Harry. Please don't blame yourself for everything that happens. Your guilt will tear you up from the inside. And I can't bear to witness you go through that." A single tear rolled down her cheek as she pleaded with him.

Harry stared at her and marvelled at this young woman who could be so brave one instant, yet so vulnerable the next. He was lost in her eyes, saw her vibrant red hair come ever closer, the freckles on her cheeks and nose blurred in his sight. A second later he felt her soft lips on his and he had to give in. He brought his hands up to the back of her head and pushed her closer to him, willing to drown himself in the sweet taste of her mouth.

The kiss felt right and was filled with love and understanding. Even though Ginny's cheeks were wet, if felt nothing like the teary kiss he shared with Cho last year. Harry felt like he was flying, light as a feather, soaring high above the clouds and all worry and anxiety he had felt for the past months just fell off of him in that one moment.

Too soon the kiss ended. Ginny slowly pulled away and looked up at him before flashing a brilliant smile. Harry too felt his face twist and he grinned at her as he pulled her close to him, embracing her with his arms, feeling the need to protect her from the cold breeze that ran through the room. As he held her he realised something and he felt stupid for not noticing before.

"How long has it been?" he asked her, his voice a little muffled by her hair.

Ginny hesitated for a fraction before answering.

"It's hard not to fall for someone who saves you from an evil maniac," she whispered in his ear and Harry felt a chill run down his spine.

After a long silence Harry spoke up.

"I do understand what you're saying Ginny. And I'll try to change my perspective on things. But it will be hard and take time. In the past few months, not a day has gone by without me envisioning a thousand what-if scenarios. Things I should have done differently, things I should have known better. I should have searched for different options, different ways to make sure Sirius was not at Headquarters, and I should have found another adult somewhere to ask for help. And I shouldn't have gone to the Ministry and I shouldn't have allowed any of you to come with."

Ginny opened her mouth to reply but Harry held up a hand to silence her.

"I know that it doesn't matter anymore. I can't change what happened in the past and I can't go back to make different choices or try out any of those scenarios. I know that. But that does not make the guilt just go away. And it probably won't for a long time. But I'm trying Ginny. I'm trying to heal from all of this. Just... bear with me while I work on that."

Ginny smiled up at him and he saw stars in her eyes.

"I will be with you every step of the way."

They sat there for a while longer, enjoying each other's company in silence. It was a beautifully clear night and thousands of stars were twinkling against a pitch black and cloudless sky. Harry could have sat there for hours, but eventually Ginny nudged him and they slowly made their way back to Gryffindor Tower. Once there they noticed the Common Room was empty. A quick check in the dormitories confirmed that Ron and Hermione had not yet arrived, which was strange as they had left far earlier that Harry and Ginny had.

"What could be taking them so long?" Harry asked aloud.

Ginny frowned and shrugged. "Do you have the map?"

Harry had forgotten that he had stowed the Marauder's Map in the pocket of his robes and quickly pulled it out to search for his friends.

"There!" Ginny said and she pointed at the two dots labelled Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, huddled close together in an enclosed space.

"It looks like they're in one of the broom closets..." Harry said. Ginny grinned, but it was lost on him why. 

"Looks like they're hiding from Filch," she said as she pointed to a dot with the caretaker's name on it. "I don't understand. They have your cloak with them don't they?"

"Yeah, but somehow Mrs. Norris is able to see right through it. And if Filch is on high alert, it might be better to wait it out."

"Well, then it's going to be a while before they return," Ginny said as she yawned and stretched her back.

"You should get some sleep," Harry said with a smile, "I'll wait up for them."

"You sure? I wouldn't mind," Ginny replied, trying to suppress another yawn.

"Yes, I'm sure. Go on." Harry grinned at her as he watched her get up and make her way to the stairs.

"Ginny?"

She turned around, red hair whirling around her and looked at him questioningly.

"What about...Ron?" he asked with slight trepidation.

"What about him?" she replied casually.

"You know... what are we going to say to him?"

Ginny raised her eyebrows playfully.

"I'm not going to say anything. You're his best friend, you talk to him."

At Harry's fearful look she laughed. "You're not a Gryffindor for nothing, are you?" She winked at him and then turned on her heel and disappeared up the stairs.

It was half an hour later when he saw the two dots on the map starting to move towards the Common Room. As Ron and Hermione entered through the portrait hole, Harry noticed Hermione's hair was more frazzled than usual and Ron had a sheepish grin on his face.

"There you are," Harry said in a manner of greeting.

They both jumped, and looked at Harry as if they had never seen him before. Hermione quickly recovered and told Harry they were being chased by Filch and had to hide until the caretaker went away.

"I trust you and Ginny worked things out?" she asked Harry.

"Yeah, we're okay now."

"Good, good...," Hermione mumbled, which Harry thought was a bit uncharacteristic of her. Then she clasped her hands together. "Well, I'm going to bed. Goodnight." She shot Ron a piercing look before she left for her dormitory.

Harry and Ron stood there silently and awkwardly in the dark Common Room. The fire had died down a while ago and only the moonlight shone through the windows. Ron scratched the back of his head, while Harry shuffled his feet.

"I've got to tell you something," they both said in unison. They grinned at each other.

"You go first," Harry said.

"Nah, you can go first," Ron replied trying to sound casual.

"I insist."

When Ron didn't make any move to start talking Harry urged him on. "Come on, Ron. Spit it out."

"I kissed Hermione," Ron mumbled.

Harry stared at him, wide-eyed. "What?"

"Hermione and I... we... Well, we kissed,"  Ron repeated sheepishly.

"Wow..." Harry didn't know what he had expected but he certainly had not expected his best friends to suddenly start snogging each other. "Er... okay."

"It just... happened, you know," Ron said quickly trying to explain. "When Filch came around the corner we had to think fast. Hermione was brilliant, as usual, and we managed to hide in a broom closet. Filch didn't notice a thing! And then... we started talking, and I said that the house elves deserved better equipment and before I knew it... she... you know," Ron ended awkwardly.

Harry nodded, trying to find words to react to this news.

"And you...did you... er... like it?" Harry stuttered.

Ron grimaced at his friend. "You are okay with it, aren't you? Cause, if you're not I'll end things right away, you know."

"What? No, no, of course I'm okay. I mean, it'll definitely take some time getting used to the idea of you two... together, I guess. But as long as you're happy, I'll be too," Harry replied and he found that he meant it. It would certainly be awkward for a while, but he would not want to stand in the way of their happiness. He only hoped there would be less fighting between the two, now that they were romantically involved. Man, that's a weird thought.

"Thanks Harry, and just so you know, this is not going to change anything about our friendship," Ron said, relief audible in his voice. "And if you ever feel like we're being too much, just smack us at the back of the head."

They laughed at the mental image.

"Now, you had something to tell as well?"

Harry gulped, working up the courage to tell Ron about him and Ginny, and hoping Ron would be just as understanding.

"Well, I also kissed tonight," he said, watching Ron's face closely. "With Ginny."

Ron just stared at him, not giving away any thought or emotion he might feel at Harry's confession. After some time, Harry couldn't bear to wait any longer and just wanted to get on with the inevitable.

"Ron, say something. If you're mad at me, just say so."

"Mad? What would I be mad for?" Ron asked.

"The fact that she is your sister? And she and I... you know?"

"Yeah, well better you than all of those other buffoons she's been dating with the past years. I'm glad it's you mate," Ron clapped him on his shoulder.

"So, you're cool with it?" Harry asked hopeful.

"Yeah, of course. I can't say I'm not surprised. Ginny's had a crush on you ever since she came to Hogwarts. When she started dating that oaf Michael Corner, I thought she had grown up and moved on. Apparently she's still stuck on you."

"Gee, thanks," Harry said as he playfully pushed Ron's arm away.

"Just remember that she is still my sister, though," Ron said in a feigned stern voice. "If I find out you hurt her-"

"You'll cut off my limbs?" Harry said with a chuckle.

"At the very least," Ron replied.

Glad they both got their stories off their chests, they went up to their dormitory. Harry felt light and happy as he crawled into his bed and drew back the curtains.

Finally, the first of their Practical sessions was coming up. It was to be held on the Quidditch Pitch and, apart from the students that were going to partake in the lesson, the stands were packed with students and teachers who had decided to watch.

The first thing they noticed when they arrived was that the pitch had been transformed from the flat, grassy field to an area filled with large rocks, shrubs and trees and two wooden cabins on either side. The goal posts were transformed into what looked like score-boards. The students gathered around in the middle of the pitch, which was most devoid of obstacles. A bald, slightly chubby man with a rough beard stood in the centre and he was flanked by a woman with a ashen blonde bob.

"Gather round, gather round," the man's rough voice ran across the group.

Once everyone had gotten closer and fell silent the man continued.

"Good day everyone. Let me introduce myself. I am Ian Lautaro and this here is my wife, Maira Lautaro." He gestured at the woman next to him. "We have been asked to give you a workshop on reflexes and speed."

A soft murmur went through the student body but they fell silent again when Mr. Lautaro held up his hand.

"As you can see, your Quidditch Pitch has been transformed into a practice arena. In a minute, you will form two teams. You will face each other and try to eliminate the members of the opposing team. But first I will demonstrate what I would like to teach you."

In a split second, Mrs. Lautaro shot a fire-red beam of light at him. The burst of energy ended up splitting a rock in two on the other end of Mr. Lautaro. All eyes were back on Mr. Lautaro and Harry felt sure that he must at least have burned his socks off. But Mr. Lautaro stood perfectly unharmed and smiled at the students gaping at him. Then Harry realised that he had actually dodged the spell.

"You see, speed and good reflexes are two things that will save your life one day. It may also get you out of critical situations if you are able to think and move fast. It may even trick your opponent, especially when they feel overconfident. Now, to master these skills there is nothing else to be done but to practise. You cannot learn this from books, you cannot even learn this from me. You have to practise it to become proficient at it. But I will help you by giving you some tips."

The next half hour Mr. and Mrs. Lautaro explained the things they did to enhance their reflexes. It was all about focus and, surprisingly, relaxation. Because as Mr. Lautaro said, if you're too tense, your muscles will need more power and energy to make you move. So, taking a breather during a vicious battle, could be the key to survival. They got some tips on how to anticipate your opponents next move by analyzing his facial expressions and body movement.

Then it was time to start the real work. The Lautaro's formed two teams. It would be Slytherin and Hufflepuff against Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. They had to eliminate the members of the other team by casting colouring charms on their opponents. When they were hit, they had to remove themselves from the field by entering the cabin and waiting for the game to be over. The objective was to eliminate everyone of the opposing team.

At the Mrs. Lautaro's whistle, the teams set out. Harry set out with Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna and Ginny and hid behind a large rock.

"Okay, so what's the plan?" Ron asked.

"Try not to get our asses kicked," Ginny replied.

"Perhaps it's better to spread out a little," Hermione offered, "we're too much of a target huddled together like this."

But before anyone could react to this, Luna had peeked over the edge of the rock.

"They're coming," she said in a melodious voice that seemed totally unaffected.

Harry jumped away from the rock as it was hit by a purple colouring spell. He dashed away and lay low in the shrubbery. With a glance he saw that Neville had followed him, but the rest was nowhere to be seen.

Then two fifth year Slytherins came around the rock with their wands out.

"I would swear I saw someone here," one of them said.

Harry and Neville locked eyes and simultaneously jumped up and sent two orange colouring spells at the Slytherins.

"Argh!"

The two were completely covered in what looked like orange paint and glared at the Gryffindors, before making their way to their cabin grudgingly.

"Let's go, I'm sure they will tell their teammates we're hiding here," Harry said and he and Neville swiftly left their hiding place.

They had a few close run-ins with some Hufflepuffs but they managed to stay out of harm's way for quite some time. Just as Harry wanted to tell Neville that they were doing well, he heard an exclamation behind him.

He whirled around and saw Neville covered in purple paint. Out of the corner of his eye he saw another spell speeding his way and he quickly flattened himself against the bark of a large tree, barely dodging the spell.

"Come on, Potter. Why don't you stop hiding and face me like a man?" came the derisive voice of Draco Malfoy.

Harry groaned inwardly but did not give in to the other boy's taunting, knowing it would mean his elimination.

Then suddenly the tree he was hiding behind cracked and creaked and fell over, exposing him to Malfoy and Crabbe, who both had a disdainful smirk on their face.

"Hey, colouring charms only, Malfoy!" Neville shouted at the blonde boy.

Malfoy raised his eyebrows in surprise, not expecting Neville to talk back to him like that.

"You're dead Longbottom. Now get to your cabin like a good little boy."

Harry saw Neville ball his fists but he made no move to leave.

"Now Potter, let's-"

"Harry!"

Hermione came from the left and shot an orange spell towards Crabbe, who yelled in indignation. Malfoy was quick to eliminate Hermione and managed to dodge Harry's spell at the same time.

"Just us now Potter."

They circled each other, occasionally daring to shoot a spell towards the other but managing to evade and dodge them every time. Harry wracked his brain to think of a way to distract or surprise Malfoy long enough for him to eliminate him. He knew Malfoy was doing the same though.

"What's the matter Potter? Lost your nerve?"

So he was going for verbal distraction then. Nothing he couldn't handle.

As Malfoy taunted him he risked a few glances around them. They were surrounded by tall rocks and that gave him an idea.

He changed the direction of his wand and shot a spell towards one of the rocks. It ricocheted off the rock and into the wrong direction but it had the desired effect, for Malfoy was briefly distracted by it.

He quickly jabbed his wand in the Slytherin's direction and with a satisfied grin saw Malfoy's robes turn a bright orange.

A loud bell rang through the arena and Harry looked around as all members of both teams left their cabins and gathered around them. He had not realised that he and Malfoy were the last members of their teams still standing.

"Congratulations to the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor Team!" Mr. Lautaro yelled loud enough so that he could be heard in the stands as well. The score-board showed a 1 - 0 at the wave of his wand.

They played a few more rounds, with the Lautaros giving tips and advice between every round. Eventually the session was ended and the Ravenclaw & Gryffindor team had won with a score of 3 - 2.
Elated and with wild excitement they made their way back to the castle. They talked animatedly about their failures and successes and the conversations turned into discussions about who had the best strategies.

After dinner Harry made his way to the dungeons for his Occlumency lesson with Snape. He was physically exhausted but in a good mood after the victory earlier that day. He was not particularly looking forward to having to spend another evening delving into his Dursley memories, but he was determined to give tonight his best shot.

Unfortunately his best never seemed to be good enough for Snape.

After they had relived almost every horrible memory Harry had of his time with the Dursleys, they had moved back to Snape's earlier method of him attacking Harry's mind while focusing on those memories. Snape's theory was that confronting Harry's mind with those memories would force him to accept them as a part of his being and thus make it easier to shift and replace them with other memories or to successfully throw off an attacker. In reality, Harry felt no closer to occluding his mind than he was before their trips down memory-lane.

"Abysmal, Potter," Snape said after a particularly disastrous attempt.

Harry got up from the floor and stretched his aching back. Along with the physical exertion earlier today, the constant falling on the cold, solid floor of Snape's office didn't do anything for his painful muscles.

"Would it kill you to get a rug in here?" he muttered as he massaged the back of his neck.

"If you're tired of falling down, perhaps you should try harder at throwing me out before that happens," Snape sneered at him.

"I am trying, Professor," Harry said tiredly, having repeated that phrase a great number of times before.

Snape gave him a look as if he doubted his intelligence. Harry just shrugged his shoulders.

"Seriously, Professor, I don't know what I'm doing wrong."

"You're not doing anything wrong. You're just not doing enough right," Snape said cryptically. Harry rolled his eyes. His exhaustion was quickly getting the better of him and he wanted nothing more than to crawl under the warm and soft sheets of his bed.

Snape folded his arms in frustration. "I'm convinced that you should have no trouble with this, Potter. Which either means that you are lying when you say you're giving this your best effort," Harry shot him a glare, "or... there are some vital memories we somehow missed."

"I can't think of anything else more horrible than the ones we already watched," Harry replied with a hint of regret for his invaded privacy.

Snape considered him thoughtfully. "So we have seen all the significant memories?"

"More than I'd like to count," Harry mumbled.

"There is nothing else you might have missed?" Snape asked while scrutinizing him closely.

"Wouldn't you have found out anyway?" Harry replied. "I can't hide anything from you, remember?" 

Snape narrowed his eyes at him and Harry felt like the man was trying to look right through him.

"We'll go again."

Harry groaned, but knew better than to protest and thus readied his usual stance.

Snape seemed to have found some renewed purpose as he invaded Harry's mind over and over again. His attacks were suddenly harsh and piercing, every trace of a gentle pull of memories gone. Harry felt like a drill was being bored into his skull and each time Snape relented for a minute-long breather, his head was pounding as if someone was hitting him with a hammer repeatedly.

In between the attacks Harry caught a glimpse of Snape and realised the man looked just as exhausted as he felt, but he had a determined glint in his dark eyes that promised Harry a long evening full of mental assaults.

Harry felt like Snape was trying hard to search for something particular, but had no idea what. And he had no way to find out as memory after memory shot past his mind's eye, unable to grasp any of them. He had already told Snape there was nothing more, didn't he? Was the man trying to get him go bonkers?

Endless attacks later Harry finally found the strength in his voice to speak up, hoping it would get Snape to understand.

"Professor... Please. No more. I'm... tired. I can't do this."

Snape didn't hesitate and lifted his wand once more. "I'm not going to allow you to give up!"

"Legilimens!"

Another sharp stabbing sensation drove through Harry's head as Snape dove in again. Harry could sense the fierce determination, the resolute strength of Snape's will run its course through his mind. Had his mind been any clearer, he would've realised that Snape desperately wanted him to succeed in this.

Finally Snape slowed down as a memory was pulled into the forefront of Harry's mind. A memory he had not known existed there.

He had just received a letter that he had been expelled from Hogwarts for the use of underage magic. His hands felt numb as the letter slipped from his fingers. Uncle Vernon picked it up and read its contents before looking up and pointing a pudgy finger in his nephew's face.

"You see! This is evidence for the fact that you used that... that... THING against my son! Even your kind sees that, and now justice shall be served." 

Uncle Vernon grabbed him roughly by his arm and pulled him up the stairs, towards Dudley's second bedroom. There, he threw him unceremoniously against the wall and started fumbling with the belt that kept his enormous pants up.

No! Harry thought in his mind as he struggled desperately to get Snape out.

"Take off your shirt," Uncle Vernon said.

Harry's mind was blank, still numb from the revelation the letter provided. He was expelled... He no longer was allowed to go back to his home...

"BOY! Do not make me repeat myself!"

Harry was shaken out of his reverie and looked  up at his uncle. He was mortified to see his uncle standing there with his belt out. He couldn't mean...?

"No, Uncle Vernon, I-"

But his uncle wouldn't have it. He shoved his nephew roughly against the wall, his back turned towards him and kept him there with a firm grip on the shoulders.

"It's no use to resist, boy. You know you deserve this, don't you?"

And he did know. He deserved all the pain and remorse in the world for leading Cedric Diggory to his death and for being responsible for bringing Voldemort back to full power.

NO! Stop it! Get OUT!

He struggled half-heartedly, a part of him recognizing the unfairness of this treatment and protesting against the enforcement, while another part of him hoped this would be enough to make atonement for his failures. As his uncle's belt came down on his back, he bit his lip to keep himself from crying out.

Loud footsteps could be heard on the stairs and the door was yanked open to reveal a frightened Aunt Petunia. Her eyes widened at the sight before her.

"Vernon, stop! Look, another letter arrived. His kind is coming to get him..."

GET OUT OF MY HEAD!

With a tremendous amount of willpower, Harry gave a mental shove at the heavy presence in his mind, forcing it to leave. He registered a slight tingling sensation in his body as his magic coursed through his veins. The effort of repelling the mental attack was equal to lifting several cars, or so he imagined, but he didn't care. He gave it his all, determined to get Snape out.

Suddenly the memory of his uncle and the belt was gone, but it was replaced by a new memory. This one was completely unfamiliar to him, however.

He saw a young boy, no more than ten years old, standing with his hands against a stone wall, his back exposed. Behind him stood a tall, menacing looking man with dark hair and goatee. He had a belt in his hands and looked quite deranged as he lifted it. The boy set his jaw and had a determined glint in his eyes that told Harry that whatever may come, he would not break mentally. As the belt came down, the boy bowed his head, his long black hair hiding his face.

With a mental push, which felt more like an actual physical shove, Snape threw Harry out.

Harry opened his eyes and saw the ceiling of Snape's office, realising that he had landed flat on his back. He was panting heavily as if he had run a mile or two. His fringe stuck to his head and he thought he could feel actual beads of sweat roll down the sides. His cheeks were wet as well, but he didn't dare to think what that could mean.

He rolled over to his side and looked towards the other end of the office. Snape was on the floor as well, though he was sitting up and leaning heavily against his desk for support. Though he too was panting, he didn't look as undone as Harry probably did.

Suddenly Harry dreaded this next confrontation. Memories of himself invading his Professor's privacy came to mind and this was probably one of the most personal, private memories he could have witnessed. Last time, Snape had only thrown him out of his office. And that was after witnessing a far less humiliating memory, in Harry's opinion. Snape would probably murder him now.

Feeling very vulnerable on the floor, Harry tried to get up but got no further than a sitting position. How come his limbs felt so weak and shaky?

He risked a glance at Snape and gulped as he found the man was looking at him directly.

"Congratulations, Mr. Potter. You successfully occluded your mind."

Harry felt his eyes widen. He'd done it. He'd actually done it!

"Also, your attempt at Legilimency was... adequate."

"Sir, I didn't-" Harry started to protest but Snape held up a hand to silence him.

"I know you didn't deliberately attempt Legilimency. It must have been a reflex of your mind. But the fact that your first attempt was done wandlessly and non-verbally is a sign that you have the aptitude to become very proficient at it, with time and practice.

Harry stared at the man, unable to believe that he had just complimented him. He must have hit his head on that desk or something.

He watched as Snape slowly pulled himself up with the help of the desk and then tried to get up himself. He found it impossible, however. His body was completely drained of all energy.

"Stay down," Snape told him as he went to the back of his office. Harry had no other choice but to comply and awkwardly sat on the floor, listening to the clanking of glass vials.

Snape went up to him and handed him a Pepper-Up Potion, indicating he should drink it immediately. Harry did so and felt a rush of warmth spread through his body and the tremble in his limbs ceased. After handing back the vial, Harry was surprised that Snape held out his hand to help him up off the floor. He took it, partly because he didn't want to be rude and risk the activation of the man's anger after all, and partly because he was too surprised to think twice about it.

Snape steered him towards the armchairs and lighted the fireplace.

"Sit down, Potter. I will return shortly." He turned and exited his office through a back door.

Harry sat staring into the fire, trying to collect his thoughts. He couldn't believe what he had just witnessed. First his own memory that he had somehow forgotten about. A shudder ran down his spine as he thought about it. Uncle Vernon had never before seemed this deranged and he considered himself lucky that it hadn't happened ever since. The look on Aunt Petunia's eyes as she came into the room was also one he had never seen before. Perhaps she was scared of the consequences of her husband's actions. Or perhaps she didn't approve of it, somehow. Perhaps that was the reason she kicked him out of the house this summer. Uncle Vernon might have lost it again and she could prevent that by taking Harry out of the equation.

Harry scoffed loudly in the silent office. Of all the things she could have done to stop her husband's torment on her nephew, this was by far the worst and easiest of choices.

Then his thoughts fell on the memory he witnessed of his Potions Professor. He marvelled at the fact that both of their memories were so... similar. It was quite eerie to think that he and the snarky man, the bat of the dungeons, had something so profoundly personal in common. He would never have imagined it.

Snape returned with a pot of hot tea and poured a cup for each of them, before he sat down in the other armchair across from Harry. He gestured with his hand that Harry should drink. Harry picked up his cup and sniffed, frowning at the scent.

"It's lavender. It reduces stress and has calming properties," Snape said as he brought his own cup to his mouth.

"Oh," was all Harry could think to say and he took a sip to give himself something to do.

The silence between them stretched on awkwardly as they both took slow sips of their tea. While Snape seemed content for it to stay that way, Harry desperately wanted to break the tension he felt at the awkward situation, though he couldn't find the right words to do it.

"Say what's on your mind, Potter," Snape said calmly as he looked him in the eyes.

Harry swallowed his pride and went for it.

"That memory... I had forgotten that it happened," he said tentatively, still unsure if the Professor would choose to mock him for it.

Snape frowned slightly in thought. "It seems that you have suppressed the memory. The intensity of it must have triggered you to protect yourself by erasing the memory from the forefront of your mind. It does sometimes happen after experiencing traumatizing events."

Harry furrowed his brow. "But I'm okay though. I've seen the memory now and I'm fine. I'm not having a mental breakdown or something."

"Sometimes the strain on the mind can become too much. Especially when this memory was just one of many troubling ones at that time." Snape looked at him knowingly and Harry averted his eyes.

He thought back to the summer before his fifth year. It was one of the worst he had endured since he knew he was a wizard. And not because of the Dursleys, they were actually a pretty stable and predictable factor at that time. No, it was a bad summer because he had just returned from the graveyard where he had seen Voldemort be resurrected and had watched his classmate get murdered right in front of him.

"Would you happen to know why?" Snape inquired imploringly.

"I think you already know, professor," Harry said.

"I want you to tell me," Snape said, his voice lacking his usual malice but still had a kind of finality in it that left no room for protest.

Harry looked down and was silent for a long time. But Snape was too. It was probably the fact that Snape was patient enough not to push him for answers that compelled him to finally speak.

"That whole summer was... hard," he started. "It was just after I fought Vol- er, You-Know-Who in the graveyard and I returned knowing he was back to full power. That summer, I had nightmares almost every night, where I had to relive that whole scene over and over. And that's also when the visions began and I began to feel Him stirring within me. I was alone. The only person I could have talked about it with was Dumbledore, but he was unreachable. He was for that whole year, in fact."

He looked up at Snape, who had his obsidian eyes on him.

"I understand why that would make your mind more inclined to suppress a traumatizing memory," he said.

Harry averted his eyes once more, feeling awkward. "I guess."

"We will focus on those memories next time. I think you have sufficiently shown that your able to push away the memories of your childhood."

Harry frowned at that. "It still took a tremendous amount of effort, though. I'm not sure if I can reproduce that without proper... incentive."

Snape leaned forward a bit in his seat. "Trust me, you will."

And Harry found that he did trust that Snape was right. He wasn't sure what had caused that sudden change, but the fact that the man had not sneered at, berated or belittled him helped a lot.

Snape's words sounded like he was about to dismiss him, but the man made no move to stand up or show him the door. In fact, he was looking thoughtfully at Harry and fingering his empty cup as if contemplating whether or not to continue the conversation. Then he sat up and poured himself another cup of tea and after a slight pause, filled Harry's as well.

"Drink."

Harry took the cup awkwardly. He got the feeling that Snape was battling his nerves, but the thought that the Potions Master could be nervous about anything seemed just too bizarre.

"What happened that day to cause your uncle to be so... ruthless?" Snape finally said.

Harry swallowed down a big gulp of tea, and felt it burn down his throat. He took a minute to recover before answering the man before him.

"That was the summer before last. That was the day that a couple of Dementors tried to attack me and my cousin." Harry glanced at Snape under his fringe and saw the recognition in the man's eyes. "I managed to drive them away with a Patronus, but they had quite an effect on Dudley. So when we came home and my aunt and uncle saw how lethargic he was, they went berserk. At the same time I got the letter saying I was expelled from Hogwarts for having used magic. I guess that was enough to encourage my uncle to... do what he did."

Snape shook his head unbelievingly and then looked away, glaring at the fire. It occurred to Harry that Snape was angry on his behalf and it felt strange for someone to feel that way for him. He felt the need to alleviate his mood.

"That was the only time he did that though. As far as I know at least," he said, suddenly wondering if he had any more suppressed memories like this one.

"It was," Snape said determinedly.

Harry stared at him. Just how much does he know about my mind?

"It is my understanding that no one knows of this, yet I will have to inform the Headmaster," Snape said after a minute of silence.

"What? Why?" Harry asked, unable to stop the hint of panic in his voice.

"Because it is my duty, as a teacher at this school, to report any incidents of child abuse."

Harry flinched at that word. "Sir, it's not..."

"Hurting and neglecting a child, any child, but in particular one under your care, is child abuse," Snape interrupted, finally looking back at his student. "Professor Dumbledore needs to be notified. In fact, I should have done so earlier when it became apparent to me that your relatives mistreat you during the summers," Snape said with a surprising hint of remorse in his voice.

"Sir, I..." Harry struggled to find the right words. "It really isn't necessary. Dumbledore has more important things to busy himself with. Besides, it doesn't matter for I'm not going back to the Dursleys."

Snape narrowed his eyes at his pupil.

"What are you afraid of?"

"Nothing!" Harry said loudly, hoping that his insolence would get Snape angry enough to dismiss him.

"Why is it so hard to tell the Headmaster?"

Harry heaved a frustrated sigh and looked down at his hands.

"Because Dumbledore doesn't care, okay?"

"Explain."

The cool, baritone voice of his professor made Harry look up at him incredulously. "I have asked him every single year not to send me back there. Dumbledore knows they hate me. But the answer is always the same. I need to go back there for the blood protection. It doesn't matter how miserable I am when I'm there, as long as Dumbledore can sleep peacefully knowing I'm protected from Voldemort."

Snape tensed and clenched his jaw, but surprisingly refrained from correcting him about the name.

"And you think Dumbledore will reject you even after hearing of this?" Snape asked.

"I know he will," Harry said darkly.

"I don't believe that."

Harry heaved another sigh, feeling tired.

"I will talk to the Headmaster," Snape said.

"Sir, it's really no use."

"This is not up for debate, Potter," Snape said firmly.

Harry bowed his head in defeat. "Yes sir," he mumbled.

Snape nodded, apparently satisfied, and shifted forward in his seat so he was closer to Harry.

"Now, turn in your seat and lift you shirt."

Harry widened his eyes. "What?"

"Do as I say, Potter," Snape said with a hint of annoyance.

"But, why?"

Snape looked at him as if he was simpleminded.

"Because I need to take a look at your back," he said slowly, heavily articulating each word.

"Sir, it's been over a year ago. It's probably all healed up already," Harry replied.

"That may be so. Nevertheless, I need to ascertain that it's healed properly since you've had no treatment for it in any way. Now turn around."

Harry surmised that this too was not up for debate and reluctantly did as he was told. The cold dungeon air made his skin shiver as he lifted his shirt awkwardly, feeling self-conscious as he knew the man would now be staring at his back.

He heard an intake of breath from the professor, but was glad it wasn't followed by a snarky comment.

He felt Snape shift closer, as if the man wanted to touch him and he tensed.

"May I?" Snape asked with such a gentle voice that Harry thought there was someone else sitting behind him. He nodded uneasily.

He had expected Snape's hands to be cold on his back, but they were surprisingly warm as he gently prodded the slightly raised lines.

"There's a bit of excessive scarring. Let me apply some salve to lessen those," Snape's calm voice came from behind him.

Harry nodded and heard Snape summon a jar to him and twist the lid to open it.

"This might be a little cold," he said and then gently applied the salve to Harry's back.

Harry felt himself relax a little. Though the situation was still awkward and tense, the cold substance and the gentle administrations on his back helped calm his nerves. A question popped up in his mind that he felt compelled to ask.

"Sir, did you ever tell anyone?"

Snape's hands stilled and for a moment Harry thought he would yell at him to get out. But after a short pause, Snape continued smearing the salve.

"Yes, eventually I did."

"Who-" Harry cut himself off, thinking it was a way too personal thing to be asking.

Snape surprised him by answering anyway. "I told Dumbledore."

"Oh," Harry muttered. "Did he... Was there anything he could do to help you?"

"There wasn't anything to help with anymore. The threat was gone before I told him of it."

Harry wondered what that meant. Did that man he saw... die?

"Was that...?"Harry trailed off, unsure if he should be even asking these questions.

"My father, yes." Snape said as he closed the lid on the jar and stood to put it away. Then he returned and poured the last of the tea left in the pot in both of their cups. Harry pulled down his shirt and took the cup, glad the tea had cooled down. His curiosity peaked and he wondered about Snape's father and what his life had been like and why he had treated his son that way. But he didn't dare ask any more questions, afraid Snape would change his mind and start berating him for being nosy.

Unexpectedly, however, Snape seemed to be inclined to elaborate.

"My father was a muggle. He generally didn't like anything, much, but he absolutely hated magic. My mother married him without telling him she was a witch, for reasons I do not even want to know. When it turned out that I was born a wizard and I started showing signs of raw magic, she obviously had to tell him. From that moment on, he never passed up an opportunity to put me in my place. He probably needed to feel in control, as he was the only one in the household without magical powers."

Harry blinked, thinking it was a very sad story. And eerily resembled that of his own.

"So, when you say the threat was gone, you mean...?"

"He died when I was seventeen," Snape said staring into the fire, his thoughts miles away. "It was for the best."

Then he seemed to come back to his senses and turned back towards Harry. "My mother died a year before that. And that's the end of it."

He stood abruptly and with a wave of his wand the empty teapot and cups disappeared.

"I believe we have dwelled enough on these memories for now. In any case, you will have no trouble fighting off an attack that is focused on them. But it will take time and practise to master the skill. In future lessons we will dedicate a part to practising fending off an attack, and another part on other lingering memories you may have yet to confront," Snape said in his teacher-like voice, showing none of the emotions that he may have let through before.

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Don't forget to clear your mind before bed. Good evening, Potter."

"Good evening, Professor."

That night when Harry lay in bed, his mind lingered on his lesson with Snape. He would never have imagined him and Snape having so much in common. They both had families who hated magic, and both their tormentors had hurt them because of who or what they were. And both of their tormentors were muggles who needed control over their situation and enforced it with abuse.

It felt strange that Snape now knew of this secret, abusive childhood he had had. But now he knew that Snape was probably the only one who could completely relate and understand how it felt. The powerlessness, the guilt, the shame... Snape must have suffered those things as well. And, looking back on it now, it was quite easy to talk to the man about it. He wouldn't say it felt like a relief to be able to put everything out there, but after the initial shock of Snape actually being somewhat nice about it, he did feel a bit lighter. It was pretty weird to see the man actually trying to be civil and attempting normal conversations. And it had worked, hadn't it? He had finally been able to occlude his mind tonight! He realised that he believed Snape when he said that it would get better and easier from here on out. The fact that Snape was confident about that fact drove any of his insecurities away. He would succeed. Snape would make sure he would, just like he had tonight.

"I'm not going to allow you to give up!"  The man had yelled. And he hadn't. He pushed through till the end, which was exactly why Harry had chosen him as his teacher over Dumbledore. He would push him no matter what, regardless of how uncomfortable it would be, he would not give up on him. It gave him a fuzzy feeling in his stomach, knowing that Snape would go out of his way to help him get rid of Voldemort's visions.

His mind wandered to the story of Snape's family and he again grew curious. Why did Snape's mother not tell his father that she was a witch? And how come they died at such a young age, assuming they were not that old when they had their son? Were they sick? Or did something else happen to them? It was curious that their deaths were only a year apart. And that Snape had become an orphan early in his life, at just seventeen years of age.

Yet another thing we have in common...

Feeling his eyelids getting heavier, the exhausting events of the day catching up on him, he pulled the sheets up to his chin and closed his eyes.

With a smile he realised that today he had actually talked about Snape's family over a cup of tea, exactly as he had joked about with Ginny back at the beginning of his Occlumency lessons. He couldn't wait to tell her.