Snape walked up the spiral staircase that led to Dumbledore's office. What could Dumbledore possibly want with him? He had things to be doing, like brewing potions for his Lord and thinking up new ways to torment that Potter brat and the rest of the ever-irritating Gryffindors.

Oh, how he hated the word Lord. Along with words such as Master, Voldemort, and Potter. He shuddered slightly before stepping into Dumbledore's office. He found himself wondering what had happened as he saw the pieces of numerous silver objects scattered around the room.

“Ah, there you are Severus. Please, take a seat.” said Dumbledore brightly. Snape took a seat near the desk where Dumbledore was seated with what looked like the pieces of a lunascope.

“What did you need me for, Headmaster?” asked Snape. The twinkle disappeared from Dumbledore's eyes as he looked Snape in the eye.

“Severus, I have to ask a favor of you.” said Dumbledore, his previous chipper ness gone. Uh-oh, this better not involve Potter.

“The Order is concerned about Harry. He has written every three days as requested by them, but they feel something is amiss. I would like you to go and check on Harry as soon as possible, today if you can.” said Dumbledore. Snape felt as though he had been punched in the stomach. Him, check on Potter? Dumbledore must have lost the rest of his brain.

“Why not Lupin? He would be glad to check on Potter.” said Snape.

“Remus is in extremely bad shape after losing his best friend and cannot go. You are the most suitable for the task, as you are not liable to lie about Harry's condition.” said Dumbledore gravely. Snape sighed. He wasn't going to get out of this.

“Fine, then. I'll go now.” he said, wanting to get the task over with as soon as possible.

“One moment, Severus.” said Dumbledore, waving his wand. He felt a strange tickling sensation and saw that his robes had been transfigured into a simple Muggle suit.

“Now you may go. The address is Number Four, Privet Drive.” said Dumbledore. Snape left the office, dreading his task.

~Harry‘s POV~

Harry lay limply on his bed, feeling excruciating pain throughout his body. It was a combination of numerous Cruciatus Curses and his damned Uncle. But it was no more than he deserved after killing Sirius, the closest person he's ever had to a father. He sat up and grimaced.

He reached up and rubbed his scar, which was burning slightly. It had been doing that ever since he'd come back to Privet Drive. Voldemort was using the connection between them to his advantage, using it to torment Harry in his sleep with images of Sirius. No, don't think about that, don't think about how he killed Sirius.

Harry got off the bed and stood up, walking dizzily over to his trunk and rooting through it. He finally stood up with a large piece of a broken mirror, the last present Sirius had ever given him, clutched in his fist. He went back over to his bed and collapsed onto it, cursing his Muggle relatives. Ha, they didn't even deserve to be called his relatives, not with the way they had been treating him ever since he had come back from Hogwarts nearly a month ago.

As soon as they entered the house, his Uncle had taken Hedwig away, telling him that he was to write a letter to his freaky friends every three days and he had better not tell them anything bad about him and his perfectly normal family, as he would be reading the letters before they were sent. He had then locked Harry in his room after beating him to unconsciousness. Every day since, he's been given a long list of chores to do while his Uncle was at work. If the chores were done satisfactorily, which they usually weren't, according to his Uncle, he would be hit.

That's when he had started cutting his arms, trying to get rid of the pain he had been feeling over Sirius' death. He uncurled his fingers and gripped the glass tightly. He brought the glass down on his arm, letting no cry of pain escape him. He had long since stopped feeling the pain.

He sighed and dug the blade in deeper. This time, his arm stung a little as blood dripped from the newest cut. He pulled his sleeve down and let the cut bleed. He threw the glass back into his open trunk, then laid back down on his bed.

He was attempting to fight off sleep when he heard a soft pop near him. He sat up quickly, grabbing his wand. There was no one there, but a thick envelope lay beside him on the bed. Curious, he picked it up, well aware that it could be a Portkey to Voldemort, but he didn't exactly care. Voldemort could walk right into his room that very second and kill him and he wouldn't care. At least he would be able to see his parents and Sirius again.

He examined the envelope closely. His first name was written on the from of the envelope in elegant green script. He wondered why it was addressed to only his first name. Oh well, he thought and opened the envelope. A faint smell of lilies permeated the air as he pulled the parchment out of the envelope. He unfolded it with a feeling as though he wasn't going to like what it said.

My Dearest Harry,

I write this letter to you as I watch you play in your crib. I feel pangs of guilt at the knowledge of what I have done, for seeing you, an exact replica of James, reminds me of all that I have done and how I have deceived everyone.

This letter is be-spelled to appear to you a month before your sixteenth birthday, when you will begin to change. Change into what, you might be wondering. All will be explained shortly. I must start at the beginning, however.

I met James on the Hogwarts Express my first year. He had just set off a number of dung bombs in a compartment full of people and I thought then that he was an arrogant jerk. Our first five years at Hogwarts all James did was act like an arrogant jerk. He made the Quidditch team and walked around with his hair messed up like he'd just gotten off a broomstick and hexed people in the corridors whenever he felt like it.

On the other hand, there was Severus Snape, my first love. He was in the same year as me, but a Slytherin while I was a Gryffindor. He was a pure-blood, like James, only he wasn't an arrogant jerk. When I first met and fell in love with him, he was a quiet and well-manner young man. We were very much in love, but his family found out about our relationship and didn't approve. They told him to stay away from me or they would disown him. He valued his family more than anything, and broke up with me. I later found out that he became a Death Eater. In sixth year, James' attitude improved and I began going out with him. We didn't have the perfect relationship, but his parents did approve of me.

Marrying into a pure-blood family was a good thing for me, a Muggle-born, to do, so I married James Potter.

Our marriage was as normal as it could be. We did have the occasional fight, but our biggest fight did not occur until approximately nine months before your birth. I cannot recall the exact reason for the fight, as it has been nearly two years since it occurred.

I left the house upset with James and headed to a somewhat shady bar in Godric's Hollow, where I knew James would never think to look for me. Imagine my surprise when Severus walked up to me and asked if I was okay. I ended up having a few drinks with him and woke up the next morning in a hotel bed beside him with little memory of what had occurred. We both went our separate ways vowing never to say a word about what had happened between us.

Then, you can imagine my simultaneous joy and horror and finding out that I was pregnant, but not with James' child. I was pregnant with Severus' child, you. I told James that you were his, and began extensive research on charms that would prevent James from ever realizing that you were not his, but his childhood enemy's son.

I was finally given the solution by the Headmaster of Hogwarts, where you probably now attend school, Albus Dumbledore. Blood magic would keep your true heritage a secret until your sixteenth birthday, when the charms would begin to wear off. Using blood was the only way I could keep you concealed. After your birthday, you will gradually change to look like your real father. All of James' features will change to those of Severus'. Shortly after your birth, we discovered that Severus had become a spy for the Order of the Phoenix, a secret society founded by Dumbledore to bring about the defeat of Voldemort. He was in constant danger, but I could not tell him about you for fear of James discovering my secret. You may think that this was selfish of me, but had Voldemort known that you were Severus' son, he would have demanded that you be taken from me and raised to learn the Dark Arts. I did not want that life for you. There was also the threat of Severus being found out and killed. If he is still alive, which I doubt, he will also be receiving a letter from me telling him of you. I do not know if he will accept you as his son, the war and Voldemort have probably hardened his heart, but please try and accept him as your father and accept my apologies for the lies I have bestowed upon you.

Your loving mother,

Lily Evans Potter

Harry numbly dropped the letter to his bed. He felt like he was drowning. A rushing sound filled his ears and he felt like he was going to pass out, but that could be blood loss from cutting himself. No, Snape couldn't be his father. It just wasn't possible. His mother and Snape…..together….he couldn't think about that.

Vaguely, he heard the doorbell ring from downstairs and the pounding feet of Dudley going to answer it.

“Mummy, someone's here for Harry!” he heard Dudley yell. Harry heard an even heavier set of feet come down the hallway and stop in front of the door to his room. He heard the jangling of keys and several clicks as the door was unlocked.

His Uncle's head popped around the door and he hissed, “Not a word, boy!” Several minutes later he heard knocking on the door. The Dursleys never knocked so this must be his visitor. It was probably Professor Lupin, who most likely hated him after getting his best friend killed.

“Come in!” he called dully. Harry remained where he was on the bed with the letter lying next to him. His jaw dropped in horror when he saw Snape enter the room. His father.

~Snape‘s POV~

He walked to Hogsmeade and Apparated to Privet Drive. He arrived in the middle of a seemingly perfect suburban street. No sign that anything out of the ordinary had ever happened there. No sign of Harry Potter either.

He walked down the street looking for the house bearing the number four. When he found it, he looked at it for several minutes. The house was quite plain, identical to all the others beside it. The car in the driveway was identical to all the others, only a different color. No sign of the bloody boy-who-lived-to-torment-him. He started forward, then stopped as an envelope appeared out of nowhere.

He snatched it out of the air before it fell to the ground. He glanced at it briefly to see his name on the envelope in elegant script. He stuffed it in his pocket and continued forward. He would read the letter later. It might be from……..no, don't think about Lily. She was dead and nothing would bring her back. He had to stay calm. He was going to face those brilliant green eyes of hers on the body of his childhood enemy.

He stopped and rang the doorbell. He heard pounding feet approach the door and stop. The door opened and he could see a blonde-haired boy roughly the size of a baby whale. Definitely not Potter, thought Snape.

“I'm here to see Potter,” said Snape.

“Mummy, someone's here for Harry!” yelled the whale. Snape heard pounding feet upstairs and wondered if it was Potter. A thin woman with an abnormally long neck appeared at the door.

“Come in Mr.………I don't believe we've been given your name.” Potter hadn't complained to his relatives about the nasty Potions Master? That was certainly a surprise.

“Snape, “ supplied Snape.

“Oh, Mr. Snape. Harry's room is just upstairs.” said the woman. She led him upstairs. As he walked up the stairs, he noticed that there weren't any pictures of Potter. That was also a surprise. The woman pointed at a door that had several locks on it, all of them unlocked.

“There's his room,” said the woman and walked away. Snape knocked on the door, eyeing the locks with distaste. Why were they keeping him locked up like some wild animal?

He heard a quiet, “Come in,” and pushed the door open. He stepped inside the room and saw Potter sitting on his bed, his face ashen and an open letter lying beside him. Potter's eyes widened when he saw who was standing in his room.

“What are you doing here?” asked Harry. Strange, he no longer had the same fire that he had had at Hogwarts.

“I was sent by Dumbledore to ascertain your condition,” said Snape, stepping further into the remarkably bare and simple room. He had expected Potter to be living in luxury.

“Well, I'm fine. Now go away and leave me alone,” said Potter. Snape didn't think the boy looked fine. Potter was extremely thin, too thin to be healthy. He walked even closer to the boy and was shocked to see that he had several bruises on his face.

“Where did you get those bruises?” asked Snape.

“That's none of your business. Now go away,” said the boy.

“I will be informing the Headmaster about those bruises,” said Snape. He walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him. He went downstairs and let himself out of the house. Something definitely wasn't right in that house and something about Harry reminded him unpleasantly about his own childhood, thought Snape just before he Apparated to Hogsmeade.

He pulled the envelope our of his pocket to look at during his walk back to Hogwarts. He opened the envelope and pulled out a sheet of parchment. The air around him smelled faintly of lilies as he stuffed the envelope back in his pocket. His eyes widened in shock as he began reading the letter.

My Dearest Severus,

I am writing this letter, bespelled to arrive to you at the same time as Harry's letter, in hopes that you are still alive and well. You may be wondering who Harry is, or why you would be receiving a letter from me at the same time as him. Harry, is my son, in case you didn't know already, and I am writing to you about him.

Do you remember that night we spent together at that hotel after my fight with James. The reason I am asking is because James Potter is not Harry's father. You are.

After I learned that I was pregnant, I performed a paternity test, just in case there was a chance that you were the father. After I discovered that you were Harry's father, I realized that it would not be safe for you to know about your son, nor could I tell James of Harry's true parentage.

Knowing this, I performed blood charms on Harry, using James' blood to change all your features to James'. James does not know, nor will he ever know, the truth about Harry.

If both James and I are dead, then please take Harry to live with you.

I know that he is to be placed with my Muggle sister, Petunia, and her family if something were to happen to me, which did, if you are receiving this letter. Petunia and her fiancée both despise magic. I shudder to think what they could do to my precious Harry should they be provoked.

I must now offer my apologies to you for keeping your son from you all this time. Please accept my apologies and accept Harry as your son.

All the best,

Lily Evans Potter

Harry Potter, the bloody Golden Gryffindor, his son? That was the most impossible thing he'd ever heard.

He quickened his pace as he entered Hogwarts and headed to Dumbledore's office to report on what he had discovered about Harno, Potter.

Wait, that wasn't right, the boy wasn't a Potter, he was a Snape. No, that thought was just wrong. Lily had to be wrong, she just had to be. But deep down, he knew Lily was never wrong about anything. She had been just like that annoyingly smart Granger, though not annoying.

He gave the password to the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore's office, Skiving Snackboxes, he could imagine quite well what they were for, and strode up the spiral staircase, not waiting for it to carry him up.

“Come in Severus,” said Dumbledore before he had a chance to knock on the door. He opened the door and walked in.“Ah, I was not expecting you to return so soon, Severus. Please take a seat.” said Dumbledore. Snape sat down in the same chair he had sat in earlier and thrust the letter from Lily at Dumbledore.

“Read this, “ he growled. Dumbledore took the letter and began to read it. As his eyes zoomed back and forth over the parchment, the twinkle in his eyes grew more and more bright. Snape put two and two together in his mind, until suddenly it clicked.

“You knew!” yelled Snape incredulously.

“Yes, Lily confided in me shortly before Harry's birth. She needed my help in locating a spell that would conceal Harry's true appearance. I suggested using blood magic. It was the most logical solution at the time. As you know, it was not illegal at the time, though it was made illegal shortly after. I apologize, Severus, for concealing your son from you but that is not the point at the moment. I need you to tell me what happened at the Dursley home.” said Dumbledore.Snape began to relate what happened while he was at the boy's home. When he finished talking, Dumbledore was looking grave.

“I need one more favor from you regarding Harry. I would like you to take him to hour family home for the rest of the summer. I believe it would be the safest place for him right now.” said Dumbledore.Snape knew he wasn't going to be able to get out of it, so he said that he would. It didn't help him that Harry's situation was so similar to his when he was Harry's age.

“Very good then. Here is a Portkey that will take you directly to Harry's room,” said Dumbledore, tapping his letter from Lily. The letter glowed blue for a second and Snape reached out to touch it.

“I must also ask you to teach Harry Occlumency again,” said Dumbledore just as his fingers touched the Portkey. He nodded before being jerked away by the Portkey. He arrived in the middle of the boy's room to find him terrified, huddled up against a wall. He didn't think he would be that terrifying to the boy and stepped closer to the boy. He noticed that the boy had a small trickle of blood coming from his head.

“Professor, watch out,” choked the boy. Snape quickly spun around and saw a huge man swing a large stick towards him. He jumped out of the way and watched in horror as the stick hit the boy's head with a sickening crack and he dropped to the ground, obviously unconscious. When the large man made as though to hit the boy again, Snape pulled out his wand.

“Stupefy,” said Snape and the man dropped to the ground with a loud thud. He rushed over to the boy and noted that his head was bleeding from where he'd been hit by the stick. He muttered a quick charm to slow the bleeding and stood up to find the boy's trunk. He located it lying open near a battered trunk.

He waved his wand over the room and said, “Pack.” The boy's things flew from various places throughout the room, including from surprisingly, under his bed. Snape decided he could think about that later. Right now he had to get Harry out of there. Whoa, where did that come from?

Snape pulled the trunk over to Harry, making sure to step on the large man. He sat on Harry's trunk and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder before Summoning the Portkey. Surprisingly, the Portkey didn't take them to his home or the Headmaster's office, but to the hospital wing. When they landed, Snape was quick to catch Harry before he hit the floor or his trunk. He carefully laid Harry on a bed and went to get Madam Pomfrey from her office. He knocked on the door and she came out.

“What do you need, Severus?”

“I don't need anything. It's Harry. His Muggle Uncle hit him with some sort of stick and I have reason to believe this isn't the first time.” said Snape. Madam Pomfrey's eyes widened and she bustled about he room, collecting potions while muttering something about bloody Muggles. She went over to where Harry was lying on the bed and began pouring potions down his throat. About ten minutes later, she picked up the empty vials and turned to Snape.

“He should wake up soon,” she said and headed back to her office. Snape took one last look at Harry, his son, and strode out of the hospital wing.

~Harry‘s POV~

He knew instantly without opening his eyes that he was no longer at Privet Drive. He opened his eyes and found that surprisingly, his glasses were still on his face and that he was in the hospital wing at Hogwarts. He pushed himself up and immediately felt dizzy. He leaned against the back on the bed until the dizziness passed.

“Mr. Potter, I see that you are awake. Do you hurt anymore?” asked Madam Pomfrey. Harry shook his head. Other than those several moments of dizziness, he felt fine.

“Good. The Headmaster would like to speak with you.” said Madam Pomfrey. Harry got out of bed and headed to Dumbledore's office. When he reached the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore's office, he realized that he didn't know the password.

But before he could start naming sweets, the gargoyle opened on its own. Harry shrugged and headed up the staircase.

When he reached the door to the office, it too opened on its own. Harry frowned when he saw that Snape was also in Dumbledore's office. He felt like turning around and leaving rather than face his…….father? No, he could never call Snape that. He forced a smile on his face and walked further into the office.

“Hello Harry. So nice to see you awake,” said Dumbledore. “Have a seat.” Harry sat down in the chair furthest from Snape.

“I have called you here to discuss your living arrangements for the rest of the summer.” said Dumbledore.

“Can't I just stay here at Hogwarts?” asked Harry.

“I'm afraid not. Most of the teachers will be gone this summer,” said Dumbledore. Harry wasn't stupid. He knew those teachers would be doing things for the Order. Wait a minute. He'd said most. That could only mean………

“NO!” yelled Harry, jumping to his feet. “I won't stay with him! I don't care if he is my father. I'd rather go back to the Dursleys!”

“Harry, calm down,” said Dumbledore.

“No,” said Harry, backing towards the door.

“Stop Potter,” hissed Snape as he raised his wand. Harry continued towards the door.

“Stupefy!” yelled Snape. Harry ducked the jet of red light and darted out the door just as a second jet of light shot his way.

He ran down the spiral staircase and through numerous hallways. He finally skidded to a halt next to the statue of the one-eyed witch.

Not really thinking about what he was doing, he tapped the hump with his wand and muttered, ”Dissendium,” then slid down into the passageway. Somehow, he managed to get out of the passage and our of Honeydukes without being spotted.

He headed off down the street, Intent on hiding where Sirius had during his fourth year. He hiked up the steep slope and slipped through the crack in the rocks, unaware that he was being followed…………

~Snape's POV~

Snape took the Portkey Dumbledore held out to him and followed Harry. He landed in the middle of Hogsmeade and saw Harry heading down the main road of Hogsmeade. He decided to just follow him for now.

As he followed Harry out of Hogsmeade, he wondered why he had felt so….hurt at Harry's vehement protests at having to go to his house. He shook it off and kept his eyes firmly fixed on Harry. They were walking up a steep hill when Harry just……vanished.

He walked up more and discovered a crack in the side of the hill, just big enough for a fairly thin person to slip through. He went through the crack just in time to see Harry fall to the ground.

“Harry!” he yelled, surprised at his worry over Harry.He knelt beside Harry and turned him face-up.

“Harry, wake up.” His eyes remained closed.

“Ennervate.” No response. Sighing, he picked up Harry and headed back out of the tiny cave. When he reached the entrance, he realized that he wasn't going to be able to get out carrying Harry.

He put Harry back down and was digging through his pockets for something to use as a Portkey when he heard Harry talking. He knelt beside Harry again. His eyes were open but glassy. He didn't appear to be actually seeing anything.

“Sirius,” mumbled Harry. He was probably having a nightmare about that stupid mutt. He stood up and began searching his pockets again.

“No, Sirius, don't go,” said Harry. Did Harry think he was his godfather? No, that wasn't possible. He found a broken eagle-feather quill and turned it into a Portkey to Hogwarts.

Snape crouched down and touched the feather to Harry's hand. The two of them disappeared in a swirl of colors. They landed in the Hospital Wing and once again, he placed Harry on a bed.There was no need to call Madam Pomfrey, she was already coming out of her office.

“Back so soon?” she asked. Snape grimly pointed to Harry, whose eyes were now closed. She bustled over to him and began waving her wand over his body. She turned back to Snape when she was finished.

“It's just exhaustion this time. The Headmaster told me that you would be taking care of him for the rest of the summer. As you will be in charge of him, I would suggest you keep a close eye on him. I fear he may do something…….drastic.” said Madam Pomfrey. Snape knew all too well what she meant. Harry had been hurting himself while at the Dursleys. He made a mental note to put some extra wards on his house for Harry's protection.

“I will definitely be keeping a close watch on him,” he assured her.

“Good, and Severus, do be sure he eats well.”

Snape nodded to show he had heard her and headed off to his quarters. He needed to pack……….

~Harry‘s POV~

Harry woke up, but didn't open his eyes. He wasn't in the cave. He could tell because he was lying on something soft. The cave was anything but soft. He opened his eyes just in time to see a house-elf appear in the room he was in.

“Master Snape says that young Master Snape must eat,” said the house-elf.

“Twinkle is setting young Master's breakfast on this table.” The house-elf placed a tray on the table next to the bed Harry was laying on.

“Here is young Master's glasses,” said the elf before disappearing with a pop. Harry put his glasses on and climbed out of bed. He stood up and surveyed the room he was in. the walls and floor were emerald green. The bed he'd been in was made of mahogany wood, as was a small desk and a wardrobe by a wall.

There was a door next to the wardrobe and another across from the bed. His trunk was situated at the foot of the bed. He headed for the door next to the desk and went through it. Inside was a small bathroom. He looked in the mirror and was surprised to see that his hair looked slightly longer. Or was it because it was flatter?

Bloody hell, he was starting to look like Snape. He shuddered slightly and headed out of the bathroom. He stopped when he saw Snape standing in the middle of the room.

“What were you doing?” asked Snape.

“Looking around,” replied Harry.

“Well, if you're done looking around, then eat your breakfast.” said Snape and left the room. Harry sat down on the bed next to the table. He pulled the tray towards him, though he had no intention of eating, just making Snape think he had. He picked up the fork and started poking at his food. Several minutes later, he heard the door open.

“Do stop playing with your food, Potter,” drawled Snape.

“Whatever,” said Harry and set the fork down.

“I have come to inform you of the rules that you will follow while in my house. First of all, you are not to go outside unless accompanied by me. Second, you are not to go into any closed rooms. Do not think that you can run around my house like you do at Hogwarts. Mealtimes will be at seven-thirty, noon, and six. Do not bother my house-elf. You will have an Occlumency lesson at seven-thirty. Do not be late." said Snape and stalked out of the room.

Great, he had to learn Occlumency again. He flopped back down on his bed to think of ways of stopping Snape from getting into his memories. If Snape saw what he had been doing......no, there had to be a way to block his mind from Snape. Hmmm.......maybe Snape had a library.......

He grabbed his Invisibility Cloak from his trunk, making sure that the broken mirror was buried in the bottom of his trunk and headed off through the house. He walked down a flight of stairs and soon found himself in front of a set of large double doors. He pushed one of the doors open and found that Snape did have a library. Quite a large one, in fact. He began wandering between the shelves. he soon found that the books were sorted into categories and in alphabetical order. He looked for the O's and quickly found himself holding several books on Occlumency.

He took the books and settled himself in a dark corner of the library. Harry skimmed the table of contents of the first book and found what he was looking for: How to block your mind from unwanted intruders. He flipped to page seventy-three and began reading.

Several paragraphs down, he discovered that his mind didn't have to be completely blank. He could use a memory he didn't mind someone else seeing instead of complete blankness. By focusing on the memory, he could force the person out of his mind. He thought about that and decided he could use a Quidditch match. He didn't care about someone seeing a Quidditch match.

He closed the book and put them back, not thinking he needed to read anymore. He headed back to his room under the cover of his Invisibility Cloak. He walked down the hallway and discovered that he couldn't find the stairs he had come down. He hoped he didn't run into Snape while trying to get back to his room. Of course, he had no such luck. Snape suddenly came out of a door on Harry's right and Harry walked straight into him.

“Shit,” whispered Harry and the same time that Snape said, “What the hell?”

Then, “Potter, take off your damned Invisibility Cloak right now,” yelled Snape.

“You didn't need to yell,” said Harry as he pulled off the cloak.

“I told you not to wander around my house, especially under that damn cloak,” said Snape angrily. Harry took a step backwards, away from Snape. The last time he'd made Snape angry, he'd started throwing glass jars at him.

“Go back to your room,” said Snape.

“But”

“Go now!” yelled Snape. How was he supposed to go back to his room when he didn't know how to get back to it? He turned anyways and walked off, glancing back at Snape every few seconds to make sure he wasn't following him or was going to curse him when he wasn't looking.

Snape was walking in the opposite direction of Harry and didn't stop or turn around, so Harry kept going. He finally found the stairs, and then his room. He wondered why Snape hadn't taken his invisibility Cloak before he was filled with an overwhelming desire to cut himself again. He locked the door to his room. There was a lock? Big surprise there.

He dug the piece of glass out of his trunk and held it to his skin, debating whether or not to do it in his room. He decided doing it in the bathroom would be safer, since he would be able to hear if Snape came in.

He locked the bathroom door behind him and sat down on the cool stone floor. He pressed the blade onto his flesh and dragged it across, creating a fine line of crimson blood, which slowly dripped down his arm and onto the floor. Shit, he couldn't get anything on the floor. Snape would kill him. He jumped up and held his bleeding arm over the sink.

He added another cut to the criss-crosses of fine white scars on his arm and let it bleed into the sink. When the bleeding slowed, Harry cleaned off his arm and pulled the sleeve of his shirt down. He cleaned up the blood and left the bathroom.

Glancing at the clock, he noticed that it was almost seven-thirty. He threw the piece of glass into this trunk and hurried out of the room before realizing that Snape had never said where the lesson was to take place.

He was heading off down the hallway to look for Snape when he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He turned around slowly and saw Snape behind him.

“Potter, follow me,” said Snape. Harry followed him down the stairs and into a room near the library. Snape turned around and had his wand out in the blink of an eye.

“Leglimens,” he hissed.

The spell hit Harry before he had a chance to try and block it. Memories flashed before his eyes.

He was eight, and being chased by Dudley and his gang.

His Uncle boarding up the mail slot so he couldn’t get any letters from Hogwarts.

He was in his room, and his Uncle was about to hit him.

No, Snape couldn’t see that. The spell was lifted suddenly and Harry found himself on his knees on the floor.

“What was that Potter?” asked Snape.

“Nothing,” said Harry.

“That didn’t look like nothing,” said Snape.

“Well it was!” yelled Harry.

“Leglimens,” hissed Snape. More memories, mostly with his Uncle in them. Harry had a feeling he was doing it on purpose.

His Uncle standing in the doorway of his room. “Not a word, boy!”

He was sitting on his bed with the letter from his mum.

His Uncle was barreling through the door to his room.

He definitely didn’t want Snape seeing that.

“No!” he cried and found himself sprawled on the floor, gasping for breath.

“You might as well give up no and tell me. I can do this all night and you still can’t get me out of your head.” drawled Snape. Harry glared at him defiantly.

“Why do you even care?” spat Harry.

“If you didn’t realize, I am your legal guardian now. I would like to know about your former…..guardians.” said Snape silkily. Yeah right. Like he wanted to know how the Dursleys had treated him. Like Snape could be a better guardian than the Dursleys had been. Ha.

Harry had to suppress a snort at the thought of Snape trying to be better than the Dursleys. He’d treated Harry like crap for five years, why would he change his mind now?Because he’s your father, said a tiny voice at the back of his mind that sounded strangely like Hermione. Bugger off, he thought. Snape was not the parent type and he could never make up for the five years of hell that he’d put Harry through. So no, he wasn’t going to tell Snape a single thing about his childhood with the Dursleys.

“Well, I’m waiting,” prompted Snape.

“If you think I’m going to share my life with my last remaining relatives with you, then you’ve got another thing coming.” hissed Harry. Whoa, did Snape look………hurt? Good, the snarky bastard deserved it.

“Get out. We will resume this lesson tomorrow night.” said Snape. Harry walked out without another word.

“Oh, and Potter?” Harry stopped but did not turn around.

“There’s always Veritaserum.” There was the snarky bastard they all knew and loved.

He began walking back to his room. At least, he hoped he was. He wondered what the hell had happened to Snape. He had seemed almost………human. Eurgh. That was just too weird a thought to contemplate. He walked up the stairs and found his room. He flopped down unceremoniously on his bed and immediately fell asleep without changing his clothes.

* He was in the Department of Mysteries again, watching Sirius fall through the veil. Only this time, he was the only one there with Sirius.

“Sirius! Come back!” he screamed. All of a sudden, a hand appeared from behind the veil and pushed it aside. Harry could see that Sirius was emerging from the veil.

“Sirius, you’re alive!” yelled Harry happily as he ran over to where Sirius stood.

“No, I’m not alive,” hissed Sirius menacingly.

“You killed me.” Harry stepped backwards.

“No, I’m sorry Sirius! I didn’t mean to!” cried Harry. The ghost of Cedric appeared.

“You killed me too, Harry.” said Cedric.

“No, no,” Harry fell to his knees. His parents appeared, no his mum and James.

“You killed us Harry.” said his mum.

“Wasn’t I a good enough father for you?” asked James.

“Now it’s time for you to join us.” said Sirius, stepping closer to Harry. Sirius’ hand gripped his shoulder tightly. It felt as though hot knives were cutting through his skin.

“No, I’m sorry,” protested Harry. Sirius pulled him over to the veil and pushed him through it and Harry screamed. *

He opened his eyes with Sirius’ words still echoing in his ears. You killed me. He had killed Sirius. And Sirius wasn’t the only one he’d killed. Cedric, his mum, James. He’d killed them all. It was all his fault……

“All my fault,” he found himself muttering as he dragged the piece of glass across his arm.

This cut was much deeper than the others, and it stung as his blood dripped into the bathroom sink. No, he didn’t want to feel. He wanted it all to go away. He wanted out. He wanted to get away from everything. He growled fiercely at the injustice of life and slashed at his arm.

Several deep cuts later, Harry was starting to feel dizzy and nauseous. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, he thought as he fingers released their hold on the shard of glass. There was so much blood. The crimson liquid was every where, thought his hazy mind. He collapsed to the floor, hitting his head on the floor with a sickening crack.

~Snape’s POV~

Snape sat down in a leather chair near a lit fireplace. He wondered where this paternal instinct thing was coming from. He was not a father. He was not a father. He could not be a father. And he definitely could not be a father to Harry bloody Potter.

That could pose a problem, though. He really couldn’t keep calling the boy Potter, especially if he wasn’t one. He was a Snape. Eurgh. That was just wrong. He was a Gryffindor, for Merlin’s sake! Snapes just weren’t Gryffindors.

Potter was horrible at Occlumency. He was going to have to actually teach the boy Occlumency this time. It wouldn’t do to have the Dark Lord find out he was a spy because he hadn’t taught the boy Occlumency. Damn it. He got out of the chair and headed for Potter’sno, SnapenoP. Shit, he’d just thought himself in a circle.

Cursing, he knocked on the boy’s door. When he didn’t answer, he assumed the boy was sleeping and opened the door. He sighed in relief when he saw that the boy was not in his bed. At least he’s not asleep, though Snape. But then, where was he? Looking around the room, he noticed that the light was on and the door closed. He walked over and knocked on the door.

Hearing no answer, he said, “Potter, I’m coming in.” Snape tried to open the door, but found it locked. Why he had even put locks in the boy’s room he didn’t know.

“Dammit,” he muttered. His wand was downstairs in his study. Of course he wouldn’t have it with him when he needed it. He walked downstairs to retrieve his wand. When he returned to Harry’s room, he could swear he smelled blood.

Harry had still not left the bathroom. Madam Pomfreys last words before he’d Portkeyed Harry here kept ringing in his ears.

“….I would suggest you keep a close eye on him. I fear he may do something……drastic.”

He really hoped Harry hadn’t been that stupid. The last thing he needed was to take care of a suicidal fifteen-year-old. He opened the door and inwardly groaned. He had been that stupid.

“Oh shit, Harry!” said Snape as he knelt beside Harry and conjured bandages. He pressed a wad of bandages against Harry’s wrist with his left hand and Summoned some Healing potions with his right. He shoved his wand in a pocket and caught the vials as the flew towards him. He set them carefully on the floor and pulled the bandages away from Harry’s arm.

The blood had slowed down slightly but not much. He grabbed a vial of Starke Heilung Potion from the vials that he had Summoned. Snape uncorked the vial and poured the thick green liquid onto Harry’s wrist. The potion fizzed slightly as it sealed the cuts. Snape knew that it was only going to stop the bleeding, the cuts would have to heal on their own.

He muttered, “Scourgify,” sand the blood disappeared from the floor and Harry’s clothes. But blood was still coming form somewhere. Had he missed a spot? He looked over Harry and discovered a cut on his head. He must have hit his head. Snape picked up another vial of Starke Heilung Potion and poured it over the cut. He then took the bandages and wrapped them around Harry’s wrist and head.

He banished the potions to his office and picked up Harry. He was light, way too light for his age. He deposited Harry on his bed and began rooting through Harry’s trunk for anything he might hurt himself with. At the bottom of Harry’s trunk, he found a pile of broken glass wrapped in brown paper. He looked closer and saw that it was really the broken pieces of a mirror. He conjured up a bag and put the broken mirror in it. The only other potential danger he found was the a melted knife, which he left in Harry’s trunk. As it had no blade, it posed no threat to Harry.

He shut Harry’s trunk and stood back up. He pulled out his wand and removed the locks from the doors. The last thing he did before exiting the room was to cast a last look at Harry, his son. His son! Oh Merlin, he wasn’t ready for this.

He couldn’t be a father to the boy. He had no idea how to be a father. His own father certainly hadn’t acted like one. But he knew he had to try. After all, he had just lost his godfather, though he was a pathetic mongrel. He sighed and headed off to his study to inform Dumbledore of Harry’s suicide attempt.

~Harry’s POV~

He was lying on something soft. Was he dead? His head and wrist were aching. Oh shit, he wouldn’t hurt is he was dead, would he? He slowly opened his eyes to the green of his room. Oh bloody hell.

“Damn Snape,” he muttered as he pushed himself off the bed with his good arm. He found his glasses on the table by his bed and put them on. He looked at his wrist and saw that it was tightly wrapped in white bandages. He yanked them off and studied the cuts he had made. They were covered in a greenish goo and weren’t bleeding. He tried to rub away the goo, but it wouldn’t move.

“Damn Snape and his potions,” muttered Harry.

“My potions saved your life, or didn’t you want that?” said Snape. Dammit, that man had an uncanny knack for sneaking up on him.

“Go away. What I want is none of your business.” said Harry icily.

“I will go away once you’ve taken these potions.” said Snape, holding out two vials.

“I’d rather drink poison,” said Harry and turned his back to Snape. “You will drink these even if I have to force-feed them to you.” said Snape.

“Why don’t you just try it?” asked Harry. He knew he was asking for it, but he wasn’t doing anything Snape told him to without a fight. Snape grabbed his shoulder and spun him around to face him. Harry glared at him. Snape raised his hand as if to slap him and Harry pulled away from him with a small whimper. He backed away from Snape until he hit the wall and stood there, watching Snape with wide eyes.

~Snape’s POV~

What the hell was going on? He took a step forward, then stopped when he saw Harry’s eyes. They were wide and filled with fear. Shit, Harry had thought that he was going to hit him. He felt a sudden rush of guilt, and quickly set the potion vials on the table beside Harry’s bed and retreated from the room. As he shut the door, he vowed to figure out what had happened to Harry.

~Harry’s POV~

As soon as Snape was out of the room, Harry collapsed to the floor with a sigh. Snape was no better than the Dursleys. He was going to hit him, for Merlin’s sake! He wondered what the potions that Snape had left were. He got off the floor and picked up the vials. One was a dark pink and the other and brilliant turquoise. Well, he wasn’t going to drink them. He took them to the bathroom and poured them down the sink. The hissed slightly as they mixed together and slid down the drain.

As he turned to head back to this room, something shiny caught his eye. He bent down to see what it was and saw that it was the shard of glass that he’d had earlier. He wondered why Snape hadn’t taken it. Harry picked it up and headed back to his room to put it in his trunk.

When he opened his trunk, he realized that someone had been in it. As far as he knew, there were only three people in the house: Twinkle, Snape, and himself. House-elves wouldn’t go through someone’s stuff without permission, so that left only one person: Snape. Cursing under his breath, he dug furiously through his trunk. The broken mirror was gone. That bastard. He slammed the lid of his trunk shut and kicked it. Dammit, all that gave him was a sore foot.

He surveyed the room, looking for somewhere to hide the glass. If Snape knew he still had it, he’d take it away too. He spotted the mahogany desk and limped over to it. He pulled open the top drawer and found several rolls of parchment, a few quills and bottles of ink, and a roll of Spell-O-Tape. Harry grinned as he pulled out the Spell-O-Tape. He ripped off a piece and stuck the glass onto it. He knelt down and shut the drawer with a satisfied smirk. He then set the potion vials back on his desk. He was about to sit on his bed when Twinkle popped into the room.

“It is beings time for young Master Potter to be goings to dinner. Twinkle is to be escorting young Master Potter tos the dining room.” said Twinkle.

“I’m not going,” said Harry.

“Master Snape is goings to be angry if yous isn’t coming down.” said Twinkle. “Twinkle is havings orders to make young Master Potter comes with Twinkle.” Harry sighed. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to get out of this.

“Fine, show me the way.” said Harry. He followed Twinkle to the dining room, which was a few doors down from the library. Snape was not in the dining room when Harry walked in. Twinkle led him to a seat and gestured for him to sit down. Just as Harry was sitting, Snape stalked into the room.

“I see you’ve decided to grace me with your presence, Mr. Potter.”

“I didn’t have a choice, now did I?” said Harry. “And I’m not exactly a Potter, am I?” he added under his breath.

“Quite right, you’re a Snape,” said Snape smartly. Apparently he had heard him.

“I’m not your son.” replied Harry nastily. Did Snape look hurt? Oh well. He was only getting what he gave. Snape sat down without another word. He snapped his fingers and food appeared on the plates. Harry felt sick at the smell of the food. However, Snape glared at him in a way that meant eat now, so Harry picked up his fork and began poking at his food. The meal passed slowly, with Harry taking a tiny bite every time Snape looked at him suspiciously.

After twenty minutes of the relentless silence, Harry dropped his fork and asked, “Can I go now?”

“Yes, do not forget your Occlumency lesson.” said Snape. Harry pushed back his chair and practically ran from the room.

What was up with Snape? One minute he was a bastard, the next he was acting almost…………well, like a father.

Deciding to decipher Snape’s moods later, he headed to his room. After lying listlessly on his bed for some time, he checked his watch and found that it was time for his Occlumency lesson. He proceeded to go downstairs and opened what he though was the door to the room he’d practiced Occlumency in before.

Instead, he entered what looked like Snape’s office. How was he supposed to know which was which, the doors all looked the same to him. Knowing that what he was doing was stupid, he stepped further into the room and saw an opened letter lying on Snape’s desk.

It was partially folded, but Harry could see a tiny picture of a lily that had been on his letter from his mum. As he bent forward to look more closely at the letter, he felt a hand grip his shoulder tightly.

***Flashback***

His Uncle’s pudgy hand gripped his shoulder as he headed for the stairs.

“We’re not finished yet, boy. You didn’t do all of your chores. You know what that means.” said his Uncle as he sneered at Harry, much like a certain hated Potions Master. His Uncle punched him in the stomach, causing him to collapse on the floor, gasping for breath.

“No, no, no,” he muttered as he was grabbed roughly by the arm and yanked to his feet.

“No more than a freak like you deserves.” said his Uncle. Harry struggled to get out of his Uncle’s grasp, but his grip was too tight. His Uncle began to shake him and he could hear his name.

“Harry!” He realized that it was not a part of his memory. His Uncle had never called him Harry.

***End Flashback***

He blinked his eyes and found himself back in Snape’s office.

~Snape’s POV~

Snape was stalking down the hallway, looking for PonoHarry, when he saw that his office door was open. He walked into the room and saw Harry bent over his desk. He walked over and gripped Harry’s shoulder. He was startled byHarry’s reaction, which was to cry out and collapse on the floor. Harry began moaning and whimpering.

“No, no, no,” muttered Harry from the floor. Snape knelt beside him and shook him slightly, trying to get him to snap out of whatever was happening.

“Harry!” Harry blinked and stared up at Snape with startled eyes. Snape was still holding his shoulders and Harry pulled away from him, yet Snape pulled him closer, almost into a hug.

“No, let me go,” said Harry, fighting to get away. Tears were streaming down his face.

“Harry, you need help,” said Snape. Harry really needed help, or he was going to end up trying to kill himself again. Snape released Harry and set him back on the floor.

“Stay here Harry. I’ll be right back.” said Snape. Snape ran out of his office and down to the basement, where his potions lab and stores were located. He grabbed several vials of Calming Draught and ran back to his office, where Harry was still sitting in the same place where he had left him. He looked to be awake, but when Snape knelt beside him, he could see that Harry’s eyes were closed tightly, and he was muttering under his breath again.

“Harry!” No response. He selected a vial of the potion and stuffed the others in his pocket. He uncorked the vial and held it to Harry’s lips. Harry jerked away violently, almost spilling the potion.

“Harry, drink this,” said Snape, holding out the potion. Harry’s eyes were open again and he was looking suspiciously at the vial.

“No, how do I know it’s not poison?” asked Harry. Great, he was back to his attitude.

“Just drink it. It will make you feel better.” said Snape.

“No,” said Harry. He jumped to his feet and backed away, heading for the open door. Snape re-corked the vial and stood up, then cursed loudly. In the few seconds he had looked down, Harry had disappeared. Oh bloody hell. It was going to take him forever to find Harry.

~Harry’s POV~

Harry ran through the endless hallways, just trying to get away from Snape. He knew what Snape was doing. He was going to act all nice until he found out what the Dursleys had done. Well, he wasn’t giving up without a fight.

He finally stopped in front of a closed door in what looked to be the basement of the house. He opened the door and stepped inside. He shut the door and instantly the room was bathed in a light golden glow. He surveyed the room and found that it was full of what looked like Dark objects. The Snape family stash, he thought with disgust.

He was about to leave the room and find a new hiding place when he caught sight of a gleaming silver dagger. He picked it up and saw that it had what looked like the Snape family crest. There was a green S with a sliver snake winding around it at the base of the blade. A leather sheath lay next to where the dagger had been resting. He put the dagger in it and put it in his pocket. He then snuck back up to his room.

~Snape’s POV~

Where in the name of Merlin had that idiot child gone, wondered Snape as he headed to his study to Floo the bloody werewolf. Surely the boy would talk to him. He tossed a handful of glittering powder into the fire and said, “Lupin!” The werewolf’s head popped into the fire.

“What do you need Severus?” asked Lupin.

“I need you to come here. We’re having a bit of a problem,” said Snape.

Apparently, Lupin had gotten his meaning because he said, “Hold on. I’ll be through in a minute.” Snape sat down and moments later, Lupin came through the fire.

“What did you need me fore?” asked Lupin.

“I received a letter from Lily several days ago saying that Potter was my son. The Order, as I’m sure you know, was worried about his well-being. I rescued him from his rather nasty family and brought him here.” Lupin didn’t look concerned at all. Dumbledore might have told the Order about him and Harry already.

“The reason I need you here is because he’s suicidal and he ran off about ten minutes ago. I need you to help look for him.” Lupin’s mouth dropped open in shock.

“He didn’tI mean”

“Stop your gibbering Lupin. He tried to kill himself by slashing his wrists with pieces of a broken mirror.” said Snape. Lupin stared at him for a minute, then dug into the pocket of his shabby robes.

“Like this?” asked Lupin, holding up a small, square mirror.

“Yes, I have the pieces now.” said Snape.

“I found this one in Sirius’ old room. I can fix it, if you want.” said Lupin.

“Later, we need to find Potter right now.” said Snape.

Lupin shoved the mirror back in his pocket and asked, “Where do you want me to look?”

“Second floor. That’s where Potter’s room is. I’ll do the first and the basement and have Twinkle do the third.” said Snape. He pointed out the stairs to Lupin and went down to the basement to begin searching.

~Harry’s POV~

Harry sat with his back to the door of his bathroom. He had hidden the dagger under the bottom drawer of his desk and now had the tiny piece of glass. He had tried to cut his left arm again, but the green goo that was still on it prevented him from doing any damage to it. He pressed the rip of the glass to his arm and began to drag it across his pale skin.

He heard the door to his room open and jerked his arm back, creating a jagged line across his arm. He bit his lip to keep from crying out in pain and jumped to his feet, putting his arms behind his back. He stuck the glass in his back pocket and pressed his wrist into his back to try and stop the bleeding before Snape entered the bathroom.

“Harry are you in there?” Oh hell, that wasn’t Snape, it was Professor Lupin. What was he doing here? Why would he even want to be here? After all, Harry had just killed his best friend. He leaned against the counter, trying to look as thought he was just standing there doing nothing.

“Harry, if you’re in there, I’m coming in.” said Lupin. The door slowly opened, revealing Lupin’s face. He was looking worse than when Harry had last seen him at King’s Cross Station, which seemed months ago, though it had actually only been weeks. His robes were shabbier and his hair grayer.

He probably hated Harry. Harry began to get nervous and backed away from Lupin.

“What’s wrong?” asked Lupin, stepping closer to Harry.

“Nothing, just go away and leave me alone.” said Harry.

“I want to help you Harry.” said Lupin, coming even closer.

“No, please go away.” said Harry.

“Harry come out of here. Severus is quite concerned about you.” said Lupin, stretching out his arm and placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder. Harry cried out and jumped away. He fell back against a wall and collapsed to the floor, hugging his knees.

***Flashback***

Lupin started towards him, but all Harry could see was his Uncle walking towards him, Dudley’s Smelting Stick held in one pudgy hand.

“My Dudders got expelled from Smeltings. What did you do to him?” yelled his Uncle.

“Nothing, I”

“You curse my Dudders, didn’t you? You were jealous because my Dudders goes to a better school that your freaky school!”

“No, I swear I didn’t!” protested Harry.

He was being shaken, but his Uncle’s hands were nowhere near him.

“No, no. Let me go,” he protested weakly.

*** End Flashback***

“Harry!” Harry blinked his eyes several times and could see Lupin again.

“Are you okay Harry?” asked Lupin.

“I’m fine,” said Harry, pushing Lupin’s hands off of him and standing up. He could see now that Snape was standing in the doorway, a letter clutched in his hand and an odd look on his face.

“Dumbledore would like us to take you to Diagon Alley to get your school supplies early.” said Snape.

“But I haven’t even gotten my OWL scores yet.” said Harry.

“Dumbledore said that he has them already, but you will get them the same time as the rest of your classmates. He feels that it will be safer for you to go now than later when Diagon Alley is crowded. I have your list of supplies. He sent a Portkey for us to use today.” said Snape.

He held up a Chocolate Frog box. Harry and Lupin stepped forward and touched it. Instantly, Harry felt the jarring tug behind his naval. Seconds later they arrived in the tiny courtyard behind The Leaky Cauldron.

Snape and Lupin took him to Gringotts to get money, then they spent several hours buying new school supplies. Their last stop was Flourish and Blotts.

Snape and Lupin stayed outside with the rest of Harry’s purchases while he went in to get the books he needed. He got all the sixth-year texts and then wandered to the back to see if there were any interesting books he could get. He was kneeling on the ground looking at the bottom shelf of a bookcase when he felt a hand on his arm.

Thinking it was Lupin or Snape, he said, “Go away. I’m still looking.”

“Awww, is bitty baby Potter trying to study?” Oh hell, he knew who that was.

“Lestrange,” he hissed, twisting away from her.

“My Master will be so pleased when I bring you to him.” she said gleefully. Yeah, right. Like that was going to happen. Snape and Lupin were right outside. He looked around Bellatrix and inwardly groaned.

There was a tall bookcase blocking the both of them from sight. Harry cursed himself for getting out of the view of his guard. He began moving slowly towards the opening between the tall bookcase and another one. Maybe he would be lucky and they would see him.

“Oh no you don’t,” said Bellatrix. She grabbed his arm and he flinched, trying to pull away from her. She pulled out her wand and said, “Stupefy.” Harry couldn’t duck because of her tight grip and the jet of red light hit him, knocking him unconscious.

Harry awoke to the dim light of a room no bigger than the cupboard under the stairs and his arms tied behind his back. Surprisingly, his glasses were still on his face. He examined the room and saw that there were no doors and no windows. He had no idea where the light was coming from. He shivered slightly. He was still wearing his Muggle jeans and t-shirt. Robes would have been warmer, he decided as he scrunched into a corner.

Harry heard footsteps outside his tiny prison and a hole in the wall opposite him appeared. Harry had to close his eyes tightly against the bright light from outside the room. He felt someone’s handed wrap around his arms and drag him out of the room. He blinked his eyes several times as his eyes adjusted to the light.

He was in a stone hallway that was lit by torches every few feet. Two death Eaters grabbed his arms and began pulling him along. They took him into another room, one that he recognized from his dreams. It was circular and the walls were made of stone, with a large throne in the center. Seated on the throne was Voldemort himself.

“Ah, the guest of honor has arrived,” said Voldemort happily. “Let’s have some fun while we wait for the other to get here.”

What others? Anything to do with Voldemort was definitely not going to be fun. The two Death Eaters pushed him to his knees in front of Voldemort, who smiled and raised his wand.

~Snape’s POV~

Snape and Lupin stood patiently outside of Flourish and Blotts, waiting for Harry to come out. He peered in the window, trying to see where Harry was. He watched Harry head towards the back of the shop and walk behind a tall bookcase. He was probably looking for something else to read, though Snape believed that it wasn’t necessary. The Snape family library was quite extensive and anything Harry wanted to look up would probably be in there.

Ten minutes passed with no sign of Harry emerging from behind the bookcase. He began to get worried and headed for the door to go find Harry when his Mark began to burn. He clutched it and turned to Lupin.

“I’ve got to go. Go look for Harry. Something doesn’t feel right,” said Snape before Apparating to the Dark Lord’s latest hideout.

He strode down the surprisingly bright hallway and into the main chamber. What he saw almost made him gasp with surprise. Harry was on the ground screaming, under the Cruciatus curse. Snape quickly put up his Occlumency shields and took his place in the circle of Death Eaters. Several more trickled in and then everyone bowed as one pledging their eternal allegiance to the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord took the curse off Harry and stood up.

“Today, we have a special treat. My Bellatrix caught the blasted Potter boy and brought him to me. Another of my faithful, Wormtail, brought me another most delightful surprise. Stand him up,” he said to two Death Eaters who were standing near Harry. They grabbed Harry and pulled him to his feet. Snape was pleased to see the fire back in Harry’s bright green eyes as he glared at the Dark Lord.

“No, Mr. Potter, I’m sure you’ll be quite pleased to see the other surprise,” said the Dark Lord. “And behind door number one…”

The Dark Lord pointed his wand at a door that had appeared in the stone wall. Yet another horrifying surprise met Snape. Vernon Dursley stepped out from behind the now-open door. Harry’s face paled when he saw who was behind the door.

He tried in vain to pull way from his captors and get away from Vernon. Several Death Eaters laughed at Harry’s terrified behavior. Snape wanted to hex them into the next century.

“I see you’re enjoying the surprise, Mr. Potter,” said the Dark Lord.

“Go to hell, you sadistic bastard,” said Harry defiantly. Snape wanted to yell, ‘you idiot!’ Harry couldn’t have done anything more stupid. He was curious though, why the Dark Lord had Harry’s uncle. Vernon seemed to be under a Silencing Charm, as his lips were moving, but no sound was coming out. “You see, Mr. Potter, your uncle has been a valuable resource in my quest to get rid of you. We had a nice little chat earlier today. You know what I found out?” said the Dark Lord. He stepped closer to Harry, who Snape could see was starting to shake slightly. It was probably from the prolonged contact with the Death Eaters. Snape wanted to get Harry out of there, but he knew he couldn’t do anything to compromise his position; otherwise, they would both be killed. Harry didn’t say anything, but he probably knew exactly what his uncle had told the Dark Lord.

“I found out exactly why the Golden Gryffindor is safe from out of Hogwarts defenses. His precious Mudblood mother and her blood magic.” said the Dark Lord. Uh-oh, there went all of Dumbledore’s work to keep Harry safe.

“Do you want to know what else I fond out?” asked the Dark Lord. What else was there to tell? The only reason Harry had been at the Dursleys was for the blood protection. What else did Vernon Dursley know?

“But the blood protection only keeps me and my faithful servants out, it doesn’t protect from anyone else.” said the Dark Lord. Snape realized with a sinking feeling that Vernon had to have told how he beat Harry.

“Tell me, Harry. Did you enjoy the time you spent with your relatives this year?” Harry looked like he would collapse if the Death Eaters had not been holding him up. The fire had disappeared from his eyes and was replaced by sheer terror. What kind of sick plan did the Dark Lord have now? Scare Harry to death?

~Harry’s POV~

“Tell me, Harry. Did you enjoy the time you spent with your relatives this year?” asked Voldemort. Harry’s stomach turned to ice.

He was sure he would have fallen to the floor had it not been for the Death Eaters holding his arms. What kind of sick game was Voldemort playing now? Why didn’t he just kill him and get it over with already?

“Take him back now. Do what you wish with him, just keep his mind and sanity intact.” said Voldemort. Harry felt sick as he was dragged to a room that was slightly larger that the one he had been kept in previously. He was shoved forward and landed on his left shoulder, twisting it back.

~Snape’s POV~

Snape paced back and forth in his office, wondering what the hell he was going to do. After Harry had been taken away, the Dark Lord had requested that he bring him various potions used for torture. He had Apparated back to the Manor to try to find a solution to his problem.

“Severus, calm down,” said Lupin from across the room.

“I am calm!” he snapped. “Sorry, I’m just really worried about Harry. I can only imagine what they’re doing to him and now that bastard wants me to bring more means of torturing him. I just wish we could get a hold of Dumbledore,” said Snape. He sank into a chair across from Lupin. “Dumbledore and his stupid ideas,” he muttered darkly.

“Did he tell anyone where he was going?” asked Snape.

“All we were told was that he was going on a mission,” said Lupin. Dammit, this was not helping. “Then we’re going to have to come up with a plan on our own.” said Snape. “He has an Anti-Disoperation jinx on the main room. The rest of the building does not, as far as I know. I don’t think that Portkeys are blocked in the main room, so that could work. What do you think?”

“Yeah…a Portkey would probably be best since you wouldn’t be able to Apparate out with Harry. It will have to be set to activate as soon as it touches Harry. I can do that,” said Lupin.

“Good, you make the Portkey and I’ll go get the potions,” said Snape. He went down to his lab and picked up a wooden box with racks in it. He then went over to a locked door and pulled out his wand. Tapping it, he muttered the long string of Latin that was the password.

The door opened and he stepped inside to collect the potions that the Dark Lord would want. He exited the room about ten minutes later with the box full of potions that he hoped would not be used. He also had several antidotes to the potions stashed in his robes. He was hoping that they weren’t going to be necessary.

He headed back up to his office and found Lupin still seated in his chair. When he entered, Lupin stood up and held out something shiny. He took it and saw that it was a plain silver ring.

“The Portkey?” he questioned.

“Yes, small and inconspicuous.” said Lupin. Snape slipped the ring onto his first finger, where it adjusted itself to fit perfectly.

“Now we wait for me to be Summoned,” said Snape. They sat down to wait, Snape twisting the ring around his finger and staring into the flickering orange flames of the fire. About a half hour of silence later, his Mark began to burn. Snape picked up the box and prepared to Disapparate.

“Good luck,” said Lupin. Snape nodded and Disapparated. He appeared in the hallway before the main room. He opened the door to find that almost everyone was there already. He bowed low to the Dark Lord and retreated to his place in the circle.

“Severus, I see you have the potions I requested. Bring them here.”

“Yes, My Lord,” said Snape. He stepped out of the circle and handed the box to the Dark Lord.

“Bring him in,” said the Dark Lord to the two Death Eaters stationed by his side. They hurried out of the room and returned several minutes later dragging Harry between them. He looked to be about semi-conscious.

They dropped him to the floor in front of the Dark Lord and returned to their places beside him. Snape almost gasped at the sight of his son. He wondered how they could hurt him so much in the few hours that he had been gone. How he was supposed to get Harry out of there without being caught himself, he didn’t know. All he could do was wait for a chance to get Harry out of there safely. The Dark lord pulled out his wand and pointed it at Harry.

“Ennervate,” he said. Harry stirred slightly, but did not get up. “Pitiful,” muttered the Dark Lord.

“Hold him up,” said the Dark Lord angrily.

The two Death Eaters moved again and held Harry up by his forearms. Harry hung limply in their arms with his head leaning strangely to the side. Oh hell, though Snape. Despite the Dark Lord’s spell, he had to wonder if Harry was really conscious.

Snape watched fearfully as the Dark Lord took the lid off the box of potions and selected a vial without looking down. Snape’s insides lurched as he recognized the potion that he had created so long ago. The liquid Cruciatus.

He knew all too well the effects of it, having taken it several times to test it. The all-out pain lasted about a minute, but random, intense shocks of pain would last up to an hour. They were the worst part of the potion, thought Snape.

The potion was forced down Harry’s throat and the two Death Eaters dropped him again when his body began convulsing. Snape knew the sheer agony of the pain, yet Harry uttered no sound. Was his mind gone? Snape was beginning to think so.

After several minutes, the Death Eaters picked up the still-shaking boy and waited for the Dark lord to select another potion. Surprisingly, his hand slipped inside his robes and withdrew a tiny glass bottle of something turquoise.

“Can’t have the guest of honor passing out on us, can we?” remarked the Dark Lord. Now he recognized the potion. It was designed to keep the drinker awake for hours. It was the creation of Lucius Malfoy, who tended to torture his victims into unconsciousness. He had gotten bored of that and had created the potion. However, he did not remember Lucius’ creation being quite that bright blue. Perhaps it had been adjusted slightly.

Snape jolted out of his thoughts in time to see another potion being poured down Harry’s throat. The two Death Eaters holding Harry kept holding him this time. What had they given him? The Death Eaters held Harry tightly. His limbs shook more than ever, but he did not scream. Foolish Gryffindor pride. It was only going to get Harry tortured worse. An hour later, Snape was desperately trying to think of a plan to get Harry out of there.

“Severus, why aren’t these potions working?” asked the Dark Lord angrily. A plan suddenly came to him.

“I don’t know, My Lord. Perhaps he has a resilience to these potions. I do have something else that could be tried, though. It is much stronger than those,” said Snape pulling a vial of murky-brown potion out of his robes.

“If you would allow me to, my Lord?” asked Snape. The Dark Lord motioned for him to go ahead. Snape uncorked the vial and held it in his right hand, preparing to touch the ring to Harry’s arm with his left. As he poured the potion into Harry’s mouth, he reached up with his left hand and pressed it to Harry’s neck.

He felt the tug at his naval that signified the activation of the Portkey and heard the Dark Lord yell, “No, stop him!” Seconds passed and Snape found himself and Harry in Harry’s room. Lupin was sitting in a chair beside Harry’s desk, looking worried. When he saw them, he jumped out of his chair.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“They tortured him while I was gone. The Dark Lord gave him over half of the potions I brought.” said Snape softly. He knelt beside Harry and saw Lupin do the same.

“Harry, can you hear me?” Harry stared up at them with glassy eyes.

“Lupin, go and Floo Madam Pomfrey,” said Snape. He was surprised at how calm he sounded. Lupin immediately stood and headed for the door. As soon as he was gone, Snape pulled Harry towards him, feeling tears threatening to slide down his face. He couldn’t believe he had allowed the Dark Lord to do that to his son. His son, for Merlin’s sake! Now he might never get a chance to tell Harry how much he cared about him.

Harry whimpered slightly in his semi-conscious state. Snape was sure he had an antidote to Lucius’ potion somewhere and decided to get it once Lupin returned. He would do anything to ease Harry’s pain. Lupin returned shortly with Madam Pomfrey, who was carrying a bag of potions.

“I’ll be right back,” he said as he stood and headed for the door. He went to his lab and quickly found the antidote in his dangerous potions room as well as antidotes to some of the potions that Harry had consumed. He hurried back upstairs to find Harry on his bed and Madam Pomfrey checking over his injuries.

“…..don’t understand why he just doesn’t pass out. Most of his injuries look quite painful.” Snape stepped inside and held up the antidote to Lucius’ potion.

“This, in part, is why.” Seeing their confused faces, he decided to elaborate.

“Lucius Malfoy created the potion. It was designed to keep the drinker conscious for hours. This is the antidote to that potion.” he strode over to the bed and gave Harry the potion. Harry’s eyes slowly slipped closed, sending him into a merciful sleep.

“That’s definitely better,” said Madam Pomfrey and got to work. Snape handed her the antidotes he had collected and retreated to Harry’s desk and sat down in the chair Lupin had been in previously. Lupin came over to stand beside him.

“He’ll be okay,” said Lupin reassuringly.

“I hope so,” said Snape. Lupin conjured another chair and sat down beside him. They sat in silence for a while until Madam Pomfrey walked over to them.

“He should be okay, though frankly, I’m amazed that he lasted so long with the injuries he sustained. Let him sleep as long as possible so his body can work on healing the injuries I couldn’t. He can have Dreamless Sleep potion every three days. No more than that, though I’m sure you know that already, Professor Snape. Don’t hesitate to Floo me if necessary. Now, can one of you show me back to the Floo?” Snape immediately stood up, glad for something to do other than brood about Harry’s condition.

Madam Pomfrey said, “Hogwarts hospital wing,” and disappeared in a flash of green flames. Snape grabbed some parchment and a quill and ink and headed back to Harry’s room to write a letter to Dumbledore.

Dear Headmaster,

In our recent trip to Diagon Alley, Harry was captured by Death Eaters. I have successfully rescued him, though compromising my mission. Lupin said that you were currently on a mission, and therefore we executed a rescue without you. Feel free to contact me at the Manor is necessary.

Severus Snape

He found his owl, Raven, and sent him off with the letter to Dumbledore. He then situated himself in Harry’s room where he could keep an eye on him. Several hours later, when the moon was slowly dropping back below the horizon, Harry began to stir.

He immediately jumped out of his chair and over to Harry’s side. Harry’s face was flushed slightly as he forced his eyes open. His eyes were just as glassy and dull as before, which made Snape’s heart sink, and then he heard one word that told him Harry still had his mind.

“Sirius,” said Harry hoarsely before slipping back into unconsciousness. Harry had thought he was Sirius. This would have normally angered Snape, but that one simple word had reassured him that Harry would eventually be all right.

“He remembers,” he said softly as he returned to his seat.

“Remembers what?” asked Lupin, walking in carrying two steaming mugs.

“He woke up, just for a second, and called me Sirius,” said Snape.

“He blames himself, you know,” said Lupin.

“What?” asked Snape, confused.

“He blames himself for Sirius’ death,” said Lupin.

“Why would he blame himself?” asked Snape.

“He has a lot of reasons. One of them is about you. He forgot that you were an Order member. That’s why he snuck into Umbridge’s office. He wanted to check on Sirius and Umbridge’s fire was the safest way to contact Sirius. Then, the whole scene in Umbridge’s office where you pretended not to believe him just made him want to save Sirius more. Then, add Umbridge and the Ministry not believing him about Voldemort, Sirius coming to save him from Voldemort. Enough reasons yet?” said Lupin. Lupin was definitely angry with him for not seeing Harry’s guilt before.

“So that’s why he…...”

“Yeah. Someone’s going to have to talk to him, because I don’t blame him for Sirius’ death. Sirius did what he had to do to keep Harry safe. That’s not Harry’s fault,” said Lupin.

Snape knew exactly what Lupin had meant by someone. Lupin wanted him to talk to his son, try and get Harry out of the depression he was in. It was going to be extremely hard to hard to help Harry after the hell he had been put through.

“I’ll talk to him when he’d better,” said Snape.

“Good,” said Lupin. He handed Snape one of the steaming mugs. “Thought you could use some caffeine.” said Lupin. Snape took a sip of the drink and found that it was coffee, not tea like he’d been expecting. “You do realize that it’s going to take a while for him to trust you?” said Lupin.

“Did you actually think that I did not realize that?” snapped Snape. Did Lupin think he was stupid?

The boy hadn’t trusted him in the first place. He was going to be even worse now, thinking that Snape was trying to kill him, supplying the Dark Lord with potions. He was going to have a hell of a time with hurry. Him and his death wish…

Snape took a sip of coffee, mainly to stop thinking about Harry’s suicide attempt. He wouldn’t be able to not think about is for long, though. They were all going to have to have to face Harry’s issues, and soon. The sooner, the better.

Snape was startled out of his thoughts by Harry screaming. Didn’t Pomfrey give him Dreamless Sleep potion; he wondered as he set the coffee down and jumped out of his chair.

“Harry,” he said, shaking the boy slightly to pull him out of his nightmare. He only pulled himself away from Snape and continued to scream. Snape put his forehead on Harry’s head in an attempt to calm him down and gasped in shock. Harry was burning up. Bloody hell.

He conjured up a cloth and a basin of cold water, then dipped the cloth into the water and laid it on Harry’s forehead. Harry jerked awake and opened his eyes halfway. He lifted his hands and tried to push Snape’s hands away from his head, but Snape held the cloth firmly to his head.

“He has a fever. Keep his head cool while I go and fetch some potions.” Lupin took over keeping the cloth on Harry’s head and Snape handed to his potions lab. He quickly picked up some potions and headed back upstairs. He stopped briefly at a hall closet to grab some blankets. Harry no doubt would be freezing with a temperature so high.

He entered the room to find Lupin still holding the cloth and Harry protesting weakly. He set the potions on his chair and carefully laid the blankets over Harry, who he could see was now shivering.

“….don’t’ hurt me…stop…let go…..” What little he could hear of what Harry was saying disturbed him greatly.

He grabbed a vial of green Fever Reducing potion and attempted to give it to Harry, who stopped trying to pry Lupin’s hands off of him and covered his mouth with his arms. Lupin immediately abandoned the cloth and grabbed Harry’s arms, pulling them away from his face.

Harry began attempting to get away and said, “Let me go, let me go, let me go…” over and over again. Snape took advantage of the distraction to pour the potion in Harry’s mouth. Harry began coughing and Lupin pushed him up to help him breathe.

“Calm down Harry. You’re safe now,” said Snape gently. Harry seemed to have heard him because his breathing slowed down and his green eyes lost their wild look. In addition, it looked like the potion was starting to work, since Harry was shivering less.

Snape moved to get off the bed, how had he gotten there anyways? But Harry grabbed his arm and whispered,” Don’t go. They’re going to come back and kill you.”

“Who, Harry?” asked Snape, confused. “Death Eaters. They’re planning to kill you,” said Harry. He must have had one of his visions from the Dark Lord. That’s why the potion hadn’t worked.

“You’re back home. It’s safe here,” said Snape calmly. He knew that no Death Eaters knew the location of histheirhouse and even if they did, the Manor was spelled specifically against the entrance of any of them.

“Hogwarts?” asked Harry. What was that supposed to mean? He decided to ask Harry about that when Harry was more coherent.

“No, our house,” said Snape. Harry looked puzzled.

“Our house?” he asked.

“Yes, we’ll discuss that when you’re better, though.” said Snape and gently pried Harry’s hands off of him. Harry’s fight against them seemed to have exhausted him now that he was calmed down.

“Don’t leave,” he mumbled as his eyelids drooped shut.

“That was rather strange,” commented Lupin as Snape carefully got off of Harry’s bed so as to not wake him up again.

“What, that Harry thinks Hogwarts is his home?” asked Snape.

“No, well, yes, but not that,” said Lupin. “Severus Snape, a father, who would have ever expected that?” He was smiling at Snape. “You did a good job with him.” Snape felt his face heat slightly. He had been doing what he had to do to get Harry calmed down.

When he voiced these thoughts to Lupin, he just smiled more and said, “Sure you did.” Snape ignored him and picked up the potions he had brought up for Harry.

He had several more vials of Fever Reducer, several potions for pain, as well as some healing salves, though not quite as strong as the one he’d used on Harry’s wrist. Harry would probably need them later. He must have gotten sick from being in the damp while in captivity. He carefully set them on the table where Harry’s glasses normally were, sorted neatly according to type.

Speaking of the glasses, he suspected that Harry wasn’t going to be needing a new pair, as his birthday was ever closer and is appeared as though his vision was already improving. Clever Lily, to make sure that the charm made him completely reflect James, horrible vision and all. He wondered vaguely what they were going to do when it was time for them to return to Hogwarts. He would have to think on that matter later, when he could find out what Harry wanted to do.

Several hours later, Snape summoned Twinkle to have her bring them lunch. He had her prepare some soup for Harry in case he woke up, which he didn’t. About mid-afternoon, it was time to give Harry another dose of the Fever Reducing potion.

Snape woke Lupin, who had fallen asleep after lunch, in case he needed Harry to be held down again. Before they attempted to wake Harry up again, Snape felt Harry’s head and found that he as much cooler than he had been earlier that morning, but he was still quite warm.

Shaking Harry slightly and saying his name had no affect whatsoever on Harry, so Snape, remembering how Harry had woken up earlier from the sock of the cold water, he conjured more water and re-wet the cloth from earlier. He wrung it out and carefully laid it over Harry’s head. Once again, Harry was startled out of deep sleep, but did not panic this time. He blinked his eyes sleepily as he looked up at Snape.

“It’s time for your next dose of Fever Reducing potion,” said Snape, holding the vial of green liquid where Harry could see it. Harry’s eyes widened.

“It’s for your fever, okay?” said Snape. Harry still looked afraid, but nodded in acquiescence. Probably because the first dose hadn’t done anything horrible to him, thought Snape. Well, except for tasting like rotten eggs.

Harry closed his eyes tightly and opened his mouth obediently, allowing Snape to pour the potion into his mouth. He swallowed it and pushed himself up.

“Bathroom,” he said hoarsely. Snape allowed Harry to get off the bed by himself, but quickly grabbed his arm when Harry swayed on his feet. Harry instantly pulled away from him and walked unsteadily to the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind him.

~Harry’s POV~

He stumbled to the bathroom, eager to get away from the two adults who kept forcing their presence on him. He felt sick to his stomach, made worse by that foul concoction Snape had given him that had tasted like rotten eggs.

He sat on the floor and leaned his head against the cool tile of the bathroom all. The coolness felt good to his aching head. His scar still burned unpleasantly from his latest vision. The Death Eaters were planning to kill Snape the first chance they got.

Harry shivered slightly and adjusted his position on the floor. He felt something sharp pierce his skin from the back of his jeans. He still had that piece of glass? He rubbed his arm where the white scars criss-crossed his arms and shivered violently. He could still hear the jeering voices of the Death Eaters when they had seen the scars.

They had been more than willing to help him along, though they couldn’t kill him themselves. That job had to be left to Voldemort. Voldemort hadn’t wanted to make his death quick or easy. The torture he could do without, but death, yeah, that’s what he wanted.

He dug the glass out of his pocket and clutched it tightly. He was going to lose yet another person that cared about him. There was so much pain, and a fifteen-year-old could only handle so much.

Snape was acting as if he cared about him, as though he could be a decent father. Was he going to leave him, like his mum and James? And Sirius, he though mournfully. Alternatively, was he going to turn on him like the Dursleys? Neither prospect sounded good to Harry.

I just want to get out of all this, he thought as he dragged the glass against his skin, leaving a trail of warm, sticky blood. Then he stopped and closed his fingers tightly around the glass. However, what about the time he could spend with Snape, his real father? Didn’t he cherish his only memories of his mum and James? Tears slid down his face and he whimpered softly.

~Snape’s POV~

About five minutes after Harry’s entrance into the bathroom, he heard whimpering. He exchanged concerned looks with Lupin and headed to the bathroom.

Maybe Harry had simply caught sight of his injuries in the mirror? He certainly hoped that that was the case. He knocked on the door, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu.

“Harry, I’m coming in,” said Snape he pushed the door open and gasped in shock. Harry was seated on the floor, leaning against a wall with a shard of glass clutched in his hand and tears streaming down his face. Snape knelt beside him and grabbed his arms, pulling them apart. He saw that Harry had already created a gash on his right wrist, which was dripping blood.

“No, Harry,” said Snape.

“Let me go,” said Harry, pulling away from Snape.

“I can’t do that,” said Snape, holding tighter. Behind him he heard Lupin approaching. “Give me the glass, Harry,” said Snape. Hadn’t he taken all of it before? Harry whimpered and closed his fist tighter.

“Harry, I want to help you, but you have to give it to me,” said Snape. Harry uncurled his fingers and let the glass fall to the floor. Snape saw Lupin come over and pick it up out of the corner of his eye.

Harry’s hand remained open and Snape could see a slightly triangular shape where he’d closed his hand around the glass.

“Good, Harry. Now stand up so we can get those cuts healed.”

He stood up, pulling Harry with him and led him back to his room. He seated Harry on his bed and picked up one of the vials of healing salve. He carefully poured it onto Harry’s left hand and the cut on his right wrist. He conjured bandages and wrapped them around the cuts, then sat beside Harry on the bed.

“Why Harry?” asked Snape. Harry said nothing.

“Why did you hurt yourself?” he asked again, a little more forcefully than he’d intended. Harry scooted away from him. Shit, he needed Harry to trust him so he could help him.

“Harry, I’m not going to hurt you,” said Snape, edging closer to Harry. “Now, please tell me why you were hurting yourself.” said Snape.

They sat in silence for several minutes before Harry sighed and said,” The Dursleys.”

Snape was rather surprised at his confession. “Why would they be the reason you did it just now?” asked Snape.

“Uncle Vernon is dead. I saw that too, in a nightmare. My aunt and cousin were killed too,” said Harry. Snape was about to ask what that had to do with anything when Harry continued. “It’s my fault they’re dead. The same as it’s my fault Sirius is dead. And Cedric. And my mum and James.” “None of those deaths were your fault,” said Snape. “Yes they were. Sirius came to rescue me, after I’d been so stupid as to believe that scum Kreacher. I told Cedric to take the Cup with me. Voldemort killed my mum because she was protecting me. The Dursleys were killed just because they were related to me.” He gave a hollow laugh. “It is my fault.”

“Harry, you have to understand that it was not you fault that any of them were killed. Sirius had to help you, he was your godfather. He would have been a horrible godfather not to come help you. The Dark Lord killed everyone else because he likes to kill people. It doesn’t matter who you are. Magic or Muggle, it makes no difference,” said Snape. Harry still looked doubtful.

“I don’t think it’s your fault and neither does Lupin,” said Snape.

“Really?” asked Harry. Lupin came over and kneeled beside the bed.

“We don’t blame you,” said Lupin, placing his hands on Harry’s knees. Harry jumped and fell backwards.

As he righted himself, he mumbled, “I’m sorry.” He kept his eyes planted on the ground. Snape resisted the urge to lift Harry’s head and look in his eyes.

“Sorry about what?” asked Snape.

“I’m being stupid. It doesn’t matter, not anymore,” said Harry softly. This definitely wasn’t nothing. It doesn’t matter anymore. What did that mean?

“You’re afraid to be touched. In my opinion, that is something.” said Snape. It doesn’t matter anymore. Something that he didn’t have to worry about anymore. What the hell could that be? An idea suddenly dawned on him.

“Does this have to do with the Death Eaters?” he asked.

“Sort of,” said Harry. Three hours alone with Death Eaters couldn’t have scared him that much, could they? Harry had stood his own quite well against them before. Hell, he wasn’t even really afraid of the Dark Lord. After all, he’d stood up against the Dark Lord six times now and survived.

Something else, then. It must be connected to Harry’s kidnapping, but wasn’t Death Eaters or the Dark Lord. Who else had been at the meeting? Oh…Vernon Dursley.

“Your uncle?” asked Snape. Harry reluctantly nodded, his eyes still on the ground.

“What did your uncle do?” asked Snape. Harry shook his head. Okay, so he was back to refusing to talk. Diversionary tactic time.

“Why do you call Hogwarts home?” he asked, certain that the question would catch Harry off guard.

“I never considered Privet Drive home. It was never home to me. Hogwarts is where I belong, not with the Dursleys who think that all wizards are freaks,” said Harry.

Couldn’t say he saw that one coming. They’d called Harry a freak? He almost wished the Dursleys were still alive so he could get his hands on them.

“What did the Dursleys do to you?” asked Snape. Harry shook his head, again refusing to speak. Snape decided to give up on getting Harry to talk for a while, since it was getting late.

He stood up and said, “We will talk about this more in the morning.” Lupin stood up too and they left the room, closing the door behind them. Snape pulled out his wand and put several warding spells on Harry’s room.

“What did you do?” asked Lupin.

“I’m keeping him from hurting himself again,” said Snape as he pocketed his wand.

“Can you fix that mirror right now?” asked Snape.

“Yes, I just have to collect the rest of the pieces,” said Lupin.

“Is it possible to make another one?” asked Snape.

“Yes, I need either a piece of glass or a mirror, preferable in a square shape,” said Lupin.

“I believe I have some glass in my Potions lab. I’ll go get it right now. said Snape. He headed down to the basement with Lupin following.

~Harry’s POV~

Harry remained seated on the bed, not bothering to get up and turn on the lights, which had shut off when Snape and Remus had left. He glanced down at the bandages wrapped around his arm in the sem-darkness. For once, he didn’t have that overwhelming urge to kill himself that he’d had for so long.

He had a father now, a family. He was still afraid that Snape might turn on him like the Dursleys, but he had to wait it out, to try and see if they could be a family. However, for now, Harry was saved.

Harry finally lay down to sleep, though it wasn’t restful. Memories of life at the Dursleys paraded through his dreams mixed with nightmares of Voldemort and what he was doing. Torturing Muggles and Muggleborns, never granting mercy.

However, Harry was granted mercy and woke up screaming in the early hours of the morning. He opened his eyes to find a slightly blurry Snape standing beside him.

“The Dark Lord?” asked Snape.

“No, just my imagination working overtime,” said Harry. For once, his scar wasn’t burning upon waking. He rolled over and attempted to go back to sleep. He found himself unable to and his thoughts wandering to Snape’s questions from the night before.

Why had he refused to answer Snape’s questions about the Dursleys? It didn’t even matter anymore. Uncle Vernon was dead and had already told Voldemort everything, including the fact that he was suicidal. Voldemort had loved that. The famed hero of the Wizarding World, the boy-who-lived, wanted to die. He’d gotten a real kick out of laughing at Harry about that.

He wondered how long it would take for Voldemort to send an anonymous report to the Daily Prophet, telling them everything. He could see the headlines now. ‘Boy-Who-Lived Abused and Suicidal.’ Bloody hell. He’d never live it down.

And then Snape would probably make him tell. He was going to have to anyways. Snape wouldn’t let him alone until he knew what happened to Harry. And the torture. That was the worst part. At least his Uncle had had a reason; the Death Eaters did it purely for sport. He hadn’t asked about it yet, but he was surely going to soon. Harry was dreading the day Snape asked that question.

Harry heard light breathing above him and knew that Snape was still there.

“Would you like a Sleeping Draught?” asked Snape. Snape was offering to help him! That was strange. It didn’t matter anyways. Sleeping Draughts didn’t work for him, not anymore.

“They don’t work for me,” he said without moving.

“I see,” said Snape. “Do try and get some sleep.” Harry heard his footsteps recede and the door close gently. He sighed and flipped over onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Now he was never going to get back to sleep.

~Snape’s POV~

Snape walked out of the room and carefully shut the door. There was no way he was going to get back to sleep, so he headed to the library to get his copy of ‘1000 Magical Herbs and Fungi.’

He was going to try to create a potion for Harry that wasn’t addictive or dangerous in high quantities, like the Dreamless Sleep potion. He found the book and went to his office, where he settled down at his desk with a parchment and quill, ready to take notes. The potion would have to have the base of Dreamless Sleep potion, which a few minor ingredient replacements, so he quickly wrote it out and began reading the section entitled, ‘Sleep-inducing Plants.’

Several hours later, the sun had fully risen and he had a list of ingredients that he theorized would work together. He closed the book and headed to his lab with the parchment. He’d omitted several of the dangerous ingredients and substituted safer ingredients for them. He’d replaced belladonna, which is lethal in high quantities, with verbena, which was a much milder form.

He pulled out a large cauldron and got to work selecting ingredients. After several hours of trial and error, he had a potion he believed would work. He would have to wait two nights before giving it to Harry, so that the Dreamless Sleep potion would be out of his system, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try it on himself.

He would have to tell Lupin about it and then try it that night, then give it to Harry and watch to make sure the potion didn’t affect him differently.

He glanced down at his watch and was shocked when he saw that it was nearly time for lunch. He went back upstairs and found Lupin emerging from the library.

“Really quite a fascinating collection of books you have here,” said Lupin. Yes, fascinatingly full of Dark Arts books, thought Snape.

“Yes, a lot of them have been passed down through my family,” said Snape aloud.

“I finished your mirror,” said Lupin, holding up the shiny glass that Snape had given him the night before. Snape took it and put it inside the pocket of his robes.

“I have Harry’s as well. It’s charmed to be indestructible. Short of blowing it up with a Muggle bomb or maybe Avada Kedavra-ing it, he can’t break it.” said Lupin with a smile.

“Good idea,” said Snape. They might have managed to get through to him the night before, but there was still a danger that he might hurt himself again and the means of communication with both Snape and Lupin might help keep him from doing it again. He didn’t want that to happen again. It might help if he didn’t have all those nightmares.

“Better give it to him at lunch,” said Snape. However, Harry didn’t show up at lunch. Snape went up to Harry’s room about mid-afternoon to check up on him and give him another dose of the Fever Reducing potion. He carefully opened the door and saw that Harry was sleeping peacefully for the first time that he knew of.

Reluctant as he was to disturb Harry, he needed to give Harry his potion, or he could get sick again. Harry had enough problems without adding an illness to them. Hen gently shook Harry and saw his eyes open. He looked much better than he had been when Snape had rescued him, though he knew some of Harry’s injuries were still mending.

Harry blinked tiredly and said, “What?”

“You missed lunch and it’s almost time for your next dose of Fever Reducer.,” said Snape. Harry pushed his blankets back and sat up.

“Why did you miss lunch?” asked Snape.

“I was asleep,” said Harry.

“You weren’t…doing anything you shouldn’t, were you?” asked Snape.

“What is this, twenty bloody questions? I was sleeping, all right! Are you satisfied now?” asked Harry. “Shit,” he muttered and dropped his head into his hands. No, he wasn’t satisfied, but that could wait. Harry looked upset. What reason did he have for being upset; he wasn’t going to yell at him for speaking his mind.

“Harry, what’s wrong?” asked Snape.

“Leave me alone,” mumbled Harry from behind his hands. Snape grabbed Harry’s wrists and pulled his hands away from his face.

“I am not going to leave you alone. I am your father and I want to help you,” said Snape. His wanting to help Harry had apparently not gotten through to him the first time he’d said it to Harry. He hadn’t been feeling well, and judging from the warmth of his hands, he still wasn’t. Harry looked up at him with wide, startled green eyes.

“I really do want to help you,” said Snape. He lightly rubbed Harry’s arm where he knew a series of white scars were with his thumb. Harry flinched slightly, but Snape kept his hold on Harry.

“I need you to tell me everything so I can help you,” said Snape, keeping his eyes locked with Harry’s. Harry bit his lip and closed his eyes, not wanting to tell him yet. Then his eyes opened and Snape could see tears glistening in the corners of his eyes. He looked so remarkably child-like in that instant and Snape was forced to see how fast Harry had had to grow up. Harry fixed his gaze on the wall behind Snape and began to speak.

“As soon as we got back from King’s Cross Station, my Uncle flipped out. He was angry that the Order had told him that they weren’t to do anything to me and that I was to be properly taken care of or else the Order would come after them. I was supposed to write to the Order every three days telling them if anything was wrong. My Uncle took Hedwig away and said that I had better write a letter every three days telling my freaky friends that I was being properly taken care of. He was going to read each letter over before sending them with Hedwig.”

Harry’s hands were shaking and he was determinedly looking anywhere but at Snape.

“He…he hit me until I passed out and when I woke up the next morning the door was locked and there was a list of chores for me to do when my aunt let me out of my room. It was a long list and I didn’t have enough time before he got home to do even half of them. When he came home, he hit me again. The next day, he gave me another list. It went on the same every day,” said Harry. Snape had a feeling he was omitting quite a lot, but at least he was talking.

“What about those?” asked Snape, tapping on Harry’s wrist.

“The second night, I had a dream about Sirius. I was in the Department of Mysteries, the Death Chamber. I was staring at the veil and these voices kept whispering to me, not loud enough to tell what they were saying, but they sounded angry. Then, Sirius came out from behind the veil. He wasn’t like the Sirius I remembered, though. His hair was long and matted and his robes were shredded. He pointed a finger at me and said, ‘It’s all your fault I’m dead. Look what you’ve done to me. Condemned me to a life of hell worse than Azkaban. It’s all your fault!’ Other people came out of the veil, Cedric, mum, James, some strange man I remember coming out of Voldemort’s wand in the graveyard, others I didn’t recognize. The voices rose and I could hear them saying, ‘It’s your fault’ over and over again. Then the faces all melted together and disappeared behind the veil, which molded into Voldemort. He said, ‘Look at all the pain you’ve caused, all the people you’ve killed. They all blame you. It is, after all, you’re fault they’re dead.’ I woke up screaming. I couldn’t get back to sleep the rest of the night. I kept thinking how they were all right about it being my fault that they were dead and I just…wanted a way out. I remembered the mirror that Sirius had given me and how I’d smashed it and how it would be the perfect solution to my problem.”

Harry stopped and squeezed his eyes shut. Snape could see tears beginning to slide down his face.

“I…I cut my wrist open and when it bled…..it felt like…all my problems were just flowing out of my body along with my blood. I just felt so…free. Then the blood stopped flowing and the next night I did it after another dream. The dreams and my uncle and that damned prophecy. And then my mum has to destroy the image of my perfect parents. I couldn’t take it anymore. All I wanted was to die and leave all of my problems behind,” said Harry. He was staring at the floor now.

“What changed?” asked Snape quietly.

“I don’t know. Maybe it was Professor Lupin. Maybe it was you. Or maybe it was the fact that I have something to live for now.” said Harry.

Snape had never wanted to hug Harry more than at that point, but he knew that it would be too much physical contact for both of them, especially after Harry re-living his worst memories. He heard the door open and mentally cursed Lupin for coming in right when he had finally gotten Harry to open up.

“Severus, are you in here? It’s nearly time for supper,” said Lupin quietly. Snape released Harry’s arms and turned to Lupin.

“Yes, I’m in here,” said Snape. The door opened the rest of the way and Lupin came in the room. Lupin gestured to his pocket and Snape figured that he was talking about the mirror. Snape pulled Harry’s fixed mirror out of his pocket.

“Lupin fixed this for you. You can use it to contact either him or me if you need to,” said Snape. Harry took it from Snape and glanced at it for a moment before setting in on the bed next to him.

“Ready to come down now Harry?” asked Lupin.

“Yeah, just give me a second to change,” said Harry. Snape and Lupin left Harry’s room and shut the door behind them.

“What were you doing in there all this time?” asked Lupin.

“Talking to Harry. He finally told me what happened while he was with his relatives,” said Snape. “What happened?” asked Lupin.

“That is for Harry to tell you when he feels he is ready. In the meantime, I would suggest that you don’t touch him, not unless you have to,” said Snape.

He was saved from explaining further by Harry emerging from his room. He had changed into ragged Muggle clothes that certainly looked as though they had seen better days. He decided that he would have to take Harry shopping sometime. Harry walked towards them and Snape could see that Harry was limping slightly.

Damn Lucius, thought Snape. Lucius was notorious for the kind of damage he could inflict with that stupid staff and his silver-toed boots. Snape separated himself from Lupin so that Harry could walk between them in case anything happened. Harry was still sick, after all, but he probably didn’t want to be cooped up in his room so much.

They headed downstairs, where Twinkle served a rather large dinner. Halfway through the meal, Snape noticed that Harry was poking at his food rather than eating it.

“Harry,” he said. Apparently, Harry had been in his own little world, because he jumped slightly before turning to face him.

“What?” asked Harry.

“What are you doing?” asked Snape.

“Eating, what else would I be doing?” drawled Harry in a way that was so close to his own that he was shocked. Harry was definitely going to scare his little Gryffindor friends when he got back to school. Harry excused himself several minutes later.

Once he was out of the room, Lupin said, “Picking up on your habits, isn’t he?”

“Yes, I suppose so,” said Snape. Lupin left soon after that, saying that he really should get back to headquarters. He Floo-ed away and Snape and Harry were left alone in the house once again. He headed upstairs to his room to get ready for bed.

He was just passing Harry’s room when he heard a muffled thud. Since they were alone in the house, he knew it had to be Harry. He turned around and opened the door to Harry’s room. The light was on, but Harry was nowhere in sight.

“Harry?” he called out. He turned to the bathroom door and found it closed. What is it with Harry and bathrooms, he found himself wondering. He opened the door, not bothering to know this time, knowing that something had to have happened to Harry.

“Harry!” he exclaimed as he knelt by his son, who lay in a heap on the wet bathroom floor. He lifted him up and saw that Harry had a two inch long gash on the left side of his forehead, which was bleeding quite profusely.

He grabbed a towel from beside the sink and pressed it firmly to the cut on Harry’s head. Shit, how were you supposed to treat a head wound? He certainly was no Medi-wizard, though he did know his potions; he didn’t think there was one for a head injury. He did know that Harry could have a concussion, though, and he needed to see if he was awake.

“Harry,” he said. The boy remained still. He gently set Harry back on the floor and pulled out his wand. He carefully levitated Harry back into his room and onto his bed, where he placed a fresh towel on Harry’s head. The blood flow seemed to be slowing down, but he didn’t want to take any chances.

He Summoned the strong healing potion he’d used on Harry’s wrists to use on his head. He carefully poured the potion onto the cut, which immediately sealed the cut and stopped the blood. Snape vanished the towels he’d had and cast a spell to let him know when Harry was awake, then went to his room to go to bed.

He suddenly remembered about the potion he had made and decided that he would have to test it the next day. He didn’t want to risk trying it on Harry first. Who knows, it might make his nightmares worse.

*********

Snape woke up the next morning with a quiet buzzing sound in his head. Harry’s awake, he thought as he got dressed in his usual black robes. He went to Harry’s room and opened the door. He found Harry standing in the middle of the room with an odd expression on his face.

“Harry, you shouldn’t be out of bed right now. You could have a concussion. In fact, you probably do. You hit your head pretty hard judging by the cut on your head,” said Snape. Harry didn’t move.

He merely stared at Snape for a moment before opening his mouth and asking, “Who are you?” Did Harry think this would be an amusing joke?

“This is not the time for jokes,’ said Snape.

“I’m not joking. Who are you?” replied Harry.

“You know perfectly well that I’m Pro...your father.” He didn’t know what had made him replace Professor Snape with father, but he was starting to feel uneasy. Something wasn’t right about this.

“Harry, what happened to you last night?” asked Snape. Harry stared blankly at him and slowly shook his head.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” said Harry. Uh-oh. This was not good. Snape pulled his wand out of his pocket and put it behind his back.

“Leglimens,” he muttered under his breath. The only memories he saw were those that he had just lived. Waking up and then him with Snape. He put his wand away. Harry narrowed his eyes and looked suspiciously at Snape.

“What the hell did you just do?” asked Harry.

“I was merely seeing if you were telling the truth,” said Snape.

“Now you believe me?” asked Harry.

“Yes,” said Snape.

“Good. Now can you please explain what is going on here?” asked Harry. Oh Merlin this was going to be difficult. He was going to have to get Madam Pomfrey for this.

“I’ll explain in a bit. Right now I want to get a Medi-witch to examine you,” said Snape. He went to his office and Floo-ed Madam Pomfrey. She came promptly with a bag that looked like it contained potions.

On the way to Harry’s room, Snape quickly explained what had happened to Harry. She quickly checked over Harry, then went back into the hallway to talk to Snape.

“He does have a concussion. You will need to watch him for signs of severe headache, dizziness, or excessive tiredness. As for the amnesia, I believe hitting his head on numerous occasions is the reason. His memory should come back down, amnesia from a concussion is usually temporary. But let me warn you, Severus. Any more severe blows to the head could result in brain damage, a coma, or even death. Remember what I said about keeping a close watch on him,” she said before Floo-ing back to Hogwarts. Snape returned to Harry’s room to find him seated on his bed, turning something over and over in his hands.

“Harry?” He didn’t look up. Snape gently touched Harry’s shoulder, causing him to look up at Snape. “Your name is Harry,” said Snape. Harry nodded, then turned his attention back to his hands. Snape could see know that Harry held the mirror that Lupin had repaired for him.

“I know I remember this from somewhere,” said Harry quietly.

“It’s a two-way mirror. I have one just like I. Just say my name into the mirror and I’ll appear in yours and you’ll appear in mine,” said Snape.

“How does it work?” asked Harry, holding the mirror up to his face and studying it closely.

“Magic, Harry,” said Snape.

“Really?” asked Harry, sounding as though he’d just learned that Father Christmas really was real. Great, Harry had forgotten about magic. Harry would not be leaving the house again until he got his memory back. He would not be safe until he remembered. Hopefully he would have his memory back before his birthday. Snape knew what was going to happen then.

The blood magic Lily had performed would start to wear off, and James’ features would change to his. Adding that to memory………… When Harry got his memory back, who knew how he was going to react. Snape hoped it wouldn’t destroy all the progress he had made with Harry.

“Yes Harry, magic,” said Snape as patiently as he could.

******

During the next two weeks, Snape enduringly tried to get Harry to remember his life. The night before Harry’s birthday, Snape was feeling particularly frustrated. He was starting to think that Harry was never going to get his memory back. Harry had complete faith in him and was even calling him dad.

Every time he heard Harry say that, it grated on his nerves. Not that he didn’t want to be considered Harry’s father, but that one inconsequential word reminded him that Harry had no memory. He couldn’t remember how much he had hated Hogwarts’ Potions Master, couldn’t recall the number of times that Snape had called him arrogant and spoiled, when in reality he was far from loved by his former…..guardians. That’s why he loathed hearing the word dad.

If Harry were to use the word with full knowledge of five years of enmity between them, then he wouldn’t mind the use of the word, but not like this. This was just wrong, but he couldn’t bring himself to set Harry down and tell him the truth. That’s why every day for the past two weeks he had acted as though they had always been a family, as if Harry had always doted on his like a young puppy.

If Harry hadn’t regained his memory by the start of term, he didn’t know what they were going to do. He couldn’t send him back to Hogwarts with no memory, especially looking like the hated Potions Master. His little Gryffindor friends would freak out.

He sighed and checked his watch. Ten o’ clock. Time for bed. He put away the lesson plans he was working on and blew out the candles. He closed the door to his office behind him and headed to his room.

As he passed Harry’s room, he said, “Good night Harry,” and heard the answer of, “Night dad.” He sighed again and went to bed.

Snape was awoken later that night by Harry screaming. He wondered if Harry was having a vision as he jumped out of bed and sprinted to Harry’s room. It did not appear as though Harry was having a vision. He wasn’t rubbing at his scar. Instead, he was clawing viciously at himself. He looked to in pain. Snape checked his watch and found that it was a little past midnight. The changes, he thought with horror. Lily hadn’t said that they would be painful, but apparently they were.

Snape darted across the room and grabbed his son, holding his arms tightly to keep him from hurting himself. Harry fought to get away, but Snape’s grip was too strong for him. Snape didn’t know how long he held onto Harry, but what seemed like hours later Harry calmed down and lay whimpering in his arms.

Suddenly Harry tensed up and pulled away from Snape. He got out of bed and stayed on the opposite side, keeping the bed between them.

Snape finally saw Harry’s face clearly and saw that his features had changed slightly. He couldn’t identify exactly what was different, but he could tell that Harry looked……well, less James Potter-ish.

“Are you okay?” asked Harry. Harry narrowed his eyes and glared at Snape.

“What the hell did you think you were doing, you conniving bastard?” yelled Harry. What the hell was Harry talking about?

“What are you talking about, Harry?” asked Snape.

“You know perfectly well what I’m talking about,” hissed Harry.

“I lose my memory and you just happen to omit certain details about my life to me. You and your ‘I just want to help you get better, Harry’ bullshit. You had not right to do that to me. I had a right to know. Maybe then I wouldn’t have spent two weeks following you around and calling you dad.” Ouch, that stung. Quite the contrast to the happy Harry he’d had for the past two weeks.

“Get out of my room,” said Harry coldly.

“Harry…” started Snape.

“No, get out and leave me alone,” said Harry. Snape knew he should leave, if only to avoid provoking Harry any more.

“If you need it, there’s some Sleeping Potion on the table,” said Snape, retreating to the doorway. Harry only glared more fiercely at him, so he closed the door behind him and headed back to his own room.

~Harry’s POV~

Harry sat down heavily on the floor beside his bed. He leaned against the bed and clenched his eyes and his fists, feeling his nails bite into the soft flesh of his palms.

When he calmed down slightly, he saw that he has little half-moon shapes indented on his palms. They stung slightly, but Harry didn’t mind. It was nothing compared to the humiliation he’d had by Snape.

That snarky bastard let him act like an idiot for two weeks! Letting him call Snape dad? He must have really gotten a kick out of that. He had a strange desire to hit something, particularly Snape, but that would make too much noise and then the asshole would be back in there annoying him.

He clenched his fists again, wishing that he could hurt something, anything, just to get his mind off Snape betraying his trust. That day, two weeks before, he had thought that he could trust Snape. He had been wrong.

Harry flopped down on his bed and stared angrily at his hands. Tiny droplets of blood were oozing from the marks left by his nails. He gingerly touched on and hissed in pain.

Okay, that was stupid, thought Harry. Maybe he should take the Sleeping Potion, like Snape had suggested. He turned to the table beside his bed, where he knew the potion was located and narrowed his eyes at the small, square mirror that was lying beside several vials of the potion.

He picked it up and tried to break it, but it refused to even crack. He ran a finger along one edge and found that it wasn’t even sharp on the sides. He stared angrily at the mirror, recalling several times when he’d talked to Snape through it.

“Stupid mirror, stupid Snape,” he muttered before throwing it across the room. There was a muffled thud as the mirror hit the carpet. It must be charmed to be indestructible, thought Harry with disgust. He grabbed one of the vials and drank the nasty-tasting potion it contained. He lay down and fell asleep instantly.

“Harry.” Where was that voice coming from?

“Harry.” Why wouldn’t the voice go away? He wanted to sleep.

“Go ‘way,” he mumbled and rolled over, burying his face in his pillow.

“Come on Harry. You need to wake up. I have to talk to you,” said the voice. The voice sounded as though it were fading away.

Then he heard a different voice say, “Perhaps the formula is too strong. We’ll have to let him sleep it off.” As the voices faded away, Harry drifted back into sleep. He was awoken by the scratching of a quill and voices speaking softly.

“I think I have it. Lupin, if you would excuse me, I need to try this.”

“Go right ahead.” So Professor Lupin had returned. Better him than Snape. Harry heard the door close gently, then opened his eyes. He could see a slightly fuzzy Professor Lupin sitting in a chair near his bed, reading a book. Harry sat up and leaned against the bed. He was surprised at how heavy his limbs felt. Professor Lupin stood up and set his book down on the chair. He came over to stand by Harry’s bed.

“Hello, Harry,” said Professor Lupin.

“Hello professor,” said Harry. He couldn’t help adding, “What are you doing here?”

“Professor Snape asked me to come here and talk to you. That will have to wait until that potion wears off. It appears the dosage was too high for you,” said Lupin. Oh, so that’s why he felt so tired. Harry nodded as his eyes slipped closed.

The next time he awoke, he was feeling much more alert. He opened his eyes and felt a sharp, stabbing pain in his head. He closed his eyes again and pressed his hands over them. The pain was gone in a few minutes and when Harry opened his eyes again, he could see better than before.

That was weird, he thought as he got out of bed and headed for the bathroom. He studied his reflection in the mirror. Something was definitely different about his face, but he could figure out exactly what was different. At least he hadn’t changed much. Then, his mum’s words came back to him.

‘…the disguise would only last until your sixteenth birthday. After that, you would gradually change to look like your father…’ Oh hell, the changes weren’t over.

If it was going to hurt so much every time, he rather just stay the way he was. He’d rather not be a little Snape-clone. Ron would freak out if Harry was an exact replica of Snape like he’d been an exact replica of Hanes. Maybe he should owl his friends and tell them so they would have more time to get used to the idea before seeing him. He’d have to ask Snape about that. Maybe he wasn’t allowed to tell anyone.

“Harry, where are you?” Professor Lupin.

“In here,” called Harry. He turned around to see Lupin poke his head in the doorway. He headed out of the bathroom and Lupin took a step backwards.

“What?” asked Harry.

“You look…different. I’m not sure how,” said Lupin, staring intently at him. “Not much difference, not really. You just look…I don’t know what to call it…Snape-ish.”

Harry just shrugged and headed back to his room, where he noticed a small box sitting on his bed. He sat down and saw that the box was full of vials of the bright orange Dreamless Sleep potion that Snape had created.

“Professor Snape sent these up with me. There should be enough to last until the beginning of term. They’re all single doses,” said Lupin.

“Okay,” said Harry as he picked a vial out of the box and examined it. Now that he could see the liquid clearly, he saw that there were tiny blue flecks floating in the orange. He wondered what was in it that made it different from regular Dreamless Sleep potion. He’d have to go check out the library and see if there were any Potions books in there. Knowing Snape, there would be plenty.

“Harry, the reason I’m here is because your father asked me to talk to you, since you refuse to talk to him,” said Lupin. Harry said nothing.

Interesting that he said father. Lupin wouldn’t understand what Snape had done, but he’d probably agree with him.

“Would you like to tell me why you’re so upset with your father?” asked Lupin.

“No,” said Harry shortly as he put the vial back in the box. He stood up and put the box on the table by his bed and walked out of the room, leaving Lupin shocked behind him. He walked down the hallway and almost ran into Snape. He muttered an apology and continued down the hall. Neither man called for him to come back. He stopped when he heard a door close and voices begin to talk loudly. He turned around and walked back to his room, where the voices were coming from.

“…giving him that potion isn’t going to solve everything.”

“I know that, but it will at least get rid of one of his problems. He doesn’t need to have nightmares every night reminding him of everything that happened to him this summer.”

“He needs to talk to someone instead of bottling up his feelings like he always does when something happens to him. He’s hurting Severus! Can’t you see that?”

They were talking about him. Harry didn’t want to hear any more and headed to the library again. Once in the library, he spotted several bookshelves that were labeled Potions texts in Snape’s spiky handwriting. He grabbed a couple of books and headed to a corner to look at them. He sat down on the floor and picked up the first book in the pile. Moste Potente Potions.

He remembered that book as the one that Hermione had gotten out of the Restricted Section in their second year so that they could make Polyjuice Potion. It was bound to have something interesting in it. He flicked through the pages, then smiled as he found a potion that would be quite useful to him.

It was called Humeur Ascenseur, a mood-lifting potion. He scanned the instructions quickly and saw that he could get most of the ingredients himself. But where would he make it?

Snape was a Potions Master, he was sure to have a laboratory somewhere. Maybe in the basement, where he’d been before that fateful Diagon Alley trip. He carefully marked his page in the book and headed to the doorway to see if there was anybody there. No one was in the hallway and he could hear voices faintly coming from his room. Snape and Lupin were still arguing, he thought as he headed downstairs to the basement.

He tried several doors which were locked before finding an unlocked on where he had found the knife. He opened the door to find what looked like an unused potions laboratory. Glass jars filled with ingredients lined the walls and an assortment of cauldrons were stacked near the doorway. Harry set the book down on a table that was standing in the middle of the room. He picked out a cauldron and began gathering the ingredients that he would need. He had to suppress a laugh when he thought of the look on Snape’s face if he found out that Harry was willingly making a potion. He’d probably die of shock.

American Ginseng, Black Cherry Bark, Blackberry Leaves, Chinese Blackberry Fruits, Eleuthero Roots, English Lavender, Ginkgo, Lemon Fruit, Rosebud Petals, Arnica, Cayenne Pepper, Wormwood, Belladonna, Fluxwood, Shrivelfigs, Unicorn Hair, Porcupine Quills.

Harry set the last ingredient down and got to work. An hour later, the potion was complete and had cooled. It was the exact shade of purplish pink that the book had said it would be, and Harry began pouring it into vials to take up to his room and hide from Snape. He bottled most of the potion and hid it behind the stack of cauldrons, then headed upstairs with several vials stuffed in his pocket.

He entered his bedroom and was pleased to see that Snape and Lupin had vacated it. He stuck the vials under the bottom drawer of his desk with the knife that he had hidden before after taking a tiny sip of the potion. He lay down on his bed, once the potion vials were safely hidden feeling slightly floaty. It made him feel as though he had been smoking Muggle cigarettes.

Funny how a simple potion could make him want to go out and try to kill Voldemort right that second… He savored the feeling of freedom from all his worries, all his cares. Such a nice potion, he thought as he drifted off to sleep.

He awoke some time later to find sunlight streaming through his window. He climbed out of bed feeling surprisingly energetic, but the floaty feeling he’d had before was gone. He changed his clothes and headed out of his room. Near the stairs he passed Snape.

“Hello sir,” said Harry.

“Feeling better, Harry?” asked Snape.

“Yep,” said Harry brightly.

“Lupin has returned to Headquarters. He seems to feel that we should work out our problems on out own. You look quite fine to me, though,” said Snape. Well, he had fooled the oh-so-inquisitive­ Potions Master. If he had done that, then he could fool anyone.

“You need to get ready to leave. Lupin, though he wishes not to stay here and help, has arranged a surprise for you,” said Snape.

“Okay,” said Harry. He turned around and went back to his room. He took a sip of the potion and grabbed his jacket, then went back to where Snape was standing by the stairs.

“Portkey,” said Snape, holding out a quill. Harry put a finger on it and they disappeared in a swirl of colors.

They arrived in the last place he expected Snape, well, actually Lupin, to take him to. Grimmauld Place. They arrived in the living room and when he stood up, he could see Ron, Hermione, and Ginny seated on a couch, each reading a book.

“I shall be in the kitchen. We’re having an Order meeting. Do not interrupt unless one of you is dead, dying, or in mortal peril. Got it?” said Snape.

“Yes, sir,” said Harry. His friends looked up at the sound of Snape’s voice and saw him.

“Harry!” squealed Hermione. She ran to him and hugged him tightly. Ginny hugged him too, but not as tight and when she released him, her face was pink.

“Hey mate,” said Ron. “Heard about where you’re staying. Rotten luck, that is.”

“Better than here, though,” said Harry. He didn’t like being here, but he didn’t have a choice.

Apparently they didn’t want him to be left alone in the house and had decided to let him see his friends while they were having their meeting. Kill two birds with one stone. Keep Harry happy, and keep him from hearing any information.

“But Snape?” asked Ron with disgust.

“He’s not so bad,” said Harry. He wondered why he wasn’t telling his friends the truth.

“Still…” said Ron.

“Really, he’s not so bad when he’s not around the Slytherins.”

“And when he’s out of a job,” added Ginny.

“What?” asked Harry.

“Fred and George’s new Extendable Ears have had their uses. We found out about Voldemort discovering he was a spy and about, well, you know,” said Ginny. Which you know? Harry decided to play it safe and act like it was about his capture.

“You can say it. I’m fine now,” said Harry. He felt more than fine. He felt like he could just float with the clouds. He was going to have to make more of that potion, keep a supply of it. He liked the feeling it gave him.

“Harry? Are you listening?”

“Yeah,” said Harry.

“We have your birthday presents here. Professor Lupin said that we couldn’t owl them to you, but that we would see you soon. They’re upstairs. Come on up and we’ll get them,” said Hermione.

Harry followed them upstairs and into the room that he’d shared with Ron the previous summer. Ron dug out something wrapped in bright orange paper and a large sparkly purple box from his trunk and handed them to Harry. They sat down on the unused bed and waited for the girls to come back. They didn’t take long and soon entered the room, each bearing something wrapped in shiny red paper.

Harry opened Ron’s first and found that Ron had gotten him his own Golden Snitch.

“So you can practice while being trapped in a house with Snape,” explained Ron.

Harry opened the sparkly box next to find an assortment of smaller boxes, each labeled with some strange name.

“Oh neat! Fred and George sent you samples!” exclaimed Ginny.

“Maybe you should test some on Snape,” said Ron wickedly.

“Maybe…” said Harry doubtfully. He didn’t want to risk making Snape mad. Hermione handed him a box, which contained refills for his broomstick servicing kit. Ginny’s present was an assortment of candy.

When Harry opened it, Ron leaned over and whispered, “I’d be careful if I were you. She might have snuck in some Wheezes.”

Harry whispered back that he’d be careful and offered candy to the girls, both of who declined. Definitely tampered with, decided Harry.

He set the candy aside and asked, “So what are we going to do?” Ginny held up with looked like a pile of peach-colored flobberworms.

She smiled wickedly as she said, “How about we go down and hear what the Order’s talking about?” Harry and Ron grinned and each took one of the Extendable Ears. Hermione frowned disapprovingly, but she too, took and Extendable Ear from Ginny. They crept down the stairs and put the Extendable Ears in their own. Harry could hear snatches of conversation as his Ear snaked down the stairs.

“…are you willing to accept the job?”

“Yes…think it would be good…”

“Hagrid, would you…try…again?”

“’O ‘course, ‘eadmaster. I’ll ‘ave ter owl…a’gin ‘bout whether…ter help…”

“…will…”

Harry pulled the Ear out and saw that the others had done the same.

“Bloody boring stuff,” commented Ron.

“Well, we did find out something, at least. It’s better than nothing,” said Hermione. They headed upstairs, where Ron pulled out a battered chess set and challenged Harry to a game. Harry was in the process of losing to Ron for the second time in a row when they heard knocking on the door. Ginny got up and opened the door, revealing Snape in the doorway.

“It’s time to go, Harry. You can meet me downstairs in a few minutes,” said Snape, then walked off. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny stared open-mouthed at him.

“Harry? He calls you Harry?” asked Ron incredulously.

“I told you he’s changed,’ said Harry as he gathered up his presents. “I’d better get going. He’ll probably bring me along next time there’s an Order meeting. If not, I’ll see you on September first,” said Harry before bidding them goodbye and heading downstairs.

A chorus of goodbyes followed him. He walked down the stairs, where he found Snape holding an empty butterbeer bottle. Snape held it out to him and Harry touched it. Snape’s lips moved soundlessly.

Three…two…one and they were gone in a swirl of colors. Harry landed in a heap in a room that he’d never seen before while Snape landed gracefully on his feet.

Harry stood up and asked, “Where are we?”

“Back at the house. Entrance Hall,” said Snape. He walked away from Harry, who immediately began following him. They walked in silence until they stopped at set of stairs that Harry recognized as the ones leading to the second floor. He began to walk up the stairs, intending to have more of the potion, and Snape walked away. He was going to have to time the potion to see how long it would last.

He wasn’t sure how long they’d been at Grimmauld place, but the potion seemed to be wearing off. Perhaps he needed to take more of it so it would last longer? Once in his room, he took a sip of the potion and noted the time, feeling that wonderfully free feeling that the potion gave him.

He felt a sudden burst of energy and decided to go wander around the house. It seemed like it was quite big, what were the chances of meeting up with Snape? Apparently quite high, at least for him.

Not ten minutes after leaving his room, Harry saw Snape just coming up from the basement. Harry found himself backing up as Snape started towards him.

“Harry, stop,” said Snape. Harry stopped immediately, thought it wasn’t as though Snape was going to hit him. He wouldn’t do that, would he? Seeing Harry’s reaction, Snape sighed.

“I would rather you didn’t wander around the house, though I cannot stop you. However, I would like you to know that this is a large house, and if the wards were to be breached, if you were off wandering, it would be difficult to find you. Though there is only a very small chance of that occurring, it is better to be safe than sorry,” said Snape. Nice as it was to have Snape care about his safety, there was no way he would be bale to remain in his room all the time, not while he was taking that potion.

“Yes sir. I’ll try not to wander too far,” promised Harry. He was being honest. Though he’d rather try and find you what all secrets the house held, he’d stay on the three floors he had been on already, if only for his safety.

“Good,” said Snape and walked off. So what to do now, wondered Harry. Maybe he could go and make some more potion. Merlin, all that energy was starting to irritate him. Maybe he was better off moping and tired. He decided to write letters to his friends. Maybe he could tell them in a letter about being Snape’s son. No, that wouldn’t work. The letters could be intercepted. Oh well, he could still write to his friends. His letters to Ron and Hermione ended up being pretty much the same.

Dear Ron (Hermione),

How has your summer gone? Mine’s been okay. Snape’s been much nicer. Probably because of not being around the Slytherins and having to keep up his reputation as the evil, Gryffindor-heating Potions Master.

Hopefully there’ll be another Order meeting soon so I can see you again. I don’t think Snape trusts me alone in his house. No, Ron (Hermione), I haven’t been planting pranks everywhere or attacked him, or anything like that. I can hear Hermione (you) now. Don’t even think about pulling any pranks on Professor Snape. (Relax Hermione, I won’t.) (Maybe I will Ron, since he seems to have lightened up a bit. See if the man really does have a sense of humor.) I got to go now to think of pranks to pull on Snape.

Just kidding,

Harry

Harry sealed up the letters and set them aside to ask Snape about owling them later. Right now, he was going to have a little nap……

* He was in the circular stone room that was filled with Death Eaters. He was being held tightly by two Death Eaters and facing Voldemort. Where the Death Eaters’ hands were on him felt like tiny needles pricking his skin. Voldemort stepped closer to Harry and smiled slightly, a sight that scared Harry.

“Tell me, Harry. Did you enjoy the time you spent with your relatives this year?” He felt as though a strong Jelly Legs Jinx has been put on him and would have collapsed to the floor had the Death Eaters not been holding his arms so tightly. Harry desperately wanted to wake up. He knew exactly what was coming and dint want to go through it again.

“Take him back now. Do what you wish with him, just keep his mind and sanity intact,” said Voldemort. Harry was dragged roughly to the small stone room and shoved forward. He landed on his left shoulder, which twisted backwards painfully. He whimpered slightly in pain, earning himself a kick in the stomach

“There you are, Mr. Dursley. Why don’t you have the first go? Finite Incantatem.” he heard from somewhere behind him. Harry scrambled to his feet and headed towards the back of the room.

“You worthless little freak!” yelled his Uncle, shoving him into the wall. “My wife and son are dead and it’s all because of you and your freaky kind! This would have never happened if you hadn’t been born!”

“If I hadn’t been born, then Voldemort would have taken over the entire world by now,” hissed Harry. He heard several gasps from the other side of the room.

“How dare you talk to me like that!” yelled his Uncle as he slammed his meaty fist into Harry’s chest. Having been released from the wall, Harry slumped to the ground, gasping for breath. Having been released from the wall, Harry slumped to the ground. His Uncle began kicking mercilessly at Harry’s body.

Several minutes or several hours later, he couldn’t tell, his Uncle picked him up by one arm and began shaking him vigorously while hitting him with the other. Harry began to scream and kick at his Uncle, which only infuriated the man more. Harry felt a wrenching jerk in his left shoulder and realized that it must have been dislocated. Harry was dropped once more to the ground, where silent tears of pain streamed down his face. Through a haze of pain, he heard the Death Eaters talking.

“Pitiful Muggles.”

“So uncreative,” said a woman’s voice that Harry recognized as Bellatrix Lestrange.

A deep voice incanting “Avada Kedavra.” and a flash of green light, then a loud thud indicating that Vernon Dursley was dead.

“So Potter, ready for the real action, cause that was just a warm-up compared to what’s coming,” said Bellatrix happily. “Pity the Muggle wasn’t more useful than that. Though of course, we can use magic on him and make him useful now.” Harry looked up at her with blurry vision.

She had her arms crossed and was tapping her wand on her arm, staring down at the floor, where his Uncle’s body lay near them. Harry struggled to fight his way out of the dream and heard his name being called, seemingly from far away. He fought to get closer to the voice and the remnants of his dream vanished. *

Harry opened his eyes to find Snape standing anxiously over him. He was in his bed, which was surprising, since the last he’d remembered, he was at his desk.

“Vision?” asked Snape. Harry shook his head.

“No, nightmare,” said Harry. He looked down and noticed his hands were shaking slightly. Harry found himself clenching his hands into fists in an effort to hide their shaking.

“Harry?” asked Snape gently.

“I don’t want to talk about it. Could you please leave me alone?” said Harry. Snape immediately retreated to the doorway.

“You know where to find me if you do want to talk,” said Snape before closing the door. Harry got out of bed and began pacing back and forth, trying to relieve some of the tension that had built up in him after having that nightmare. Harry ran his hands though his hair, trying not to think about the horrific events that had occurred while he was Voldemort’s captive.

A little voice in the back of his mind was telling him to walk over to his desk and pull out that knife. No, he wouldn’t hurt himself again, not around Snape. That’s what the potion was for. He got out a vial of the potion and took a sip, embracing the freeness it gave him.

Several hours later, it was approaching bedtime, and the potion was starting to wear off. Harry grabbed a vial of Sleeping Potion and downed it before getting into bed, ready to have a nightmare-free sleep. The next morning, he woke up feeling extremely wide-awake. He changed his clothes and took a sip of the potion, then headed downstairs to breakfast.

Both Harry and Snape were silent until Snape handed him an envelope with his name on it. He opened it and found his OWL results. Nervously, he put aside the top sheet of parchment, which congratulated him on taking his OWLs. He looked at his Potions score first, which just happened to be an ‘O’. He let out a cry of joy and shoved the parchment in his father’s face.

“I got an ‘O’ in Potions. Now you have to let me in your NEWT class.” Snape took the parchment from him and glanced at it.

“You did quite well, Harry. Except for your Divination and Astronomy scores,” said Snape.

“Divination’s a bunch of rubbish and our Astronomy exam was interrupted,” said Harry.

“Well done, Harry,” said Snape, handing his scored back.

“Thank you, sir,” said Harry.

“Anyhow, we have to discuss what is to happen once we return from Hogwarts. You are far from fully changed and I’m sure your friends are going to notice that you’ve changed. Therefore, I believe you have three options. The first would be to tell everyone about us, second would be to put a Glamour Charm on you, and the last, and I think worst, option, is to assume a new identity,” said Snape. Yeah, he didn’t really like the last option and telling everyone of his parentage did not appeal to him, but the Glamour Charm sounded acceptable.

“If we went with the Glamour, would I still be able to tell my friends?” asked Harry.

“Of course. Tell whomever you like,” said Snape.

“Then I’ll do that,” said Harry.

“I thought that would be what you chose. I’d assume you’ll be changing more in the next couple of weeks. If you need something, don’t hesitate to ask me. I need to inform the Headmaster about your decision,” said Snape. He got up and left Harry alone at the table, still excited about his OWL results.

~Snape’s POV~

Snape walked out of the dining room and headed to his office to Floor Dumbledore about Harry’s decision.

He picked up a handful form a black box on the mantle and tossed it in the fireplace, saying, “Albus Dumbledore.”

Dumbledore’s head appeared in the flames and he asked, “What do you need, Severus?”

“Harry has decided that he wants to go with the Glamour Charm.”

“Very well then. I had thought that Harry would choose that. He would not wish to leave his friends. Tell Harry that we will be performing the charm a week before the start of term,” said Dumbledore.

“I will do that,” promised Snape.

“Good. I must be going then,” said Dumbledore and his head vanished from the flames. Snape left his office to go find Harry. He wasn’t in his room, and thankfully not the bathroom. After ten minutes of searching, he found him still in the dining room, his head on the table, fast asleep. He gently shook Harry awake. Harry sat up and looked around with bleary eyes.

“Didn’t you get any sleep last night?” asked Snape.

“Yeah. I took that potion. I’m still tired,” said Harry with a loud yawn.

“Maybe you should go back upstairs and sleep some more,” said Snape. He watched as Harry stood up and stumbled out of the room. He debated for a moment whether to go help Harry before deciding that Harry probably wouldn’t want his help. He left the dining room and went down to his Potions lab to begin working on restocking Madam Pomfrey’s supplies.

He began work on a Pain Relieving Potion, but his thoughts kept wandering back to Harry and his strange behavior. Harry had seemed wide awake when he’d left him in the dining room and his strange behavior. Harry had seemed wide-awake when he’d left him in the dining room, but not even fifteen minutes later, he was dead tired. He had been acting strange since the day they went to Grimmauld Place. He had seemed cheerful enough, considering he didn’t even know where they were going. Then, when they came back, he was quieter and more subdued. He made a mental note to check on that later and turned his attention back to the cauldron.

“Shit,: he muttered furiously as he realized that he had skipped adding powdered arnica, a key component of the potion and now his potion was ruined. Good thing he hadn’t been making anything dangerous, thought Snape as he Vanished the ruined potion and started again. He successfully completed the potion several hours later and set the cauldron aside to cool.

He then went upstairs to check on Harry. His suspicions were furthered as he saw Harry, not in bed, but sitting at his desk reading a book, until his more rational side kicked in and said that it had been several hours, perhaps he had just woken up. He walked towards Harry and saw that he was reading his NEWT Potions book.

“Getting ready for my class, I see,” said Snape. Harry spun around so fast Snape thought he might have cracked his neck. “I thought you were tired,” said Snape.

“I was tired. I’m not anymore, though,” said Harry. Quite the Slytherin, omitting information.

“Did you sleep?” asked Snape.

“Yes,” said Harry.

“Make sure you get your rest. Dumbledore is coming to put the Glamour Charm on you the last week before the start of term,” said Snape. He left Harry’s room and headed back to his Potions lab to make some more potions for Madam Pomfrey.

~Harry’s POV~

Over the next two weeks, Harry found the potion working less and less. He was getting more tired every time he took the potion and was falling asleep in more strange places.

Snape kept giving him odd looks, as though he was trying to see right through him. He had made more of the potion and had hidden it in his trunk so that he could take it to Hogwarts since he probably wouldn’t have much time to make more once school started, but he had copied the potion down and put the book back in case he was able to make the option.

“Harry, Dumbledore’s here. Come downstairs,” called Snape. He hoped this didn’t take long, or else he would be falling asleep again.

Harry entered the living room to find Dumbledore and Snape seated on a large couch. He sat down in a dark blue armchair across from them.

“Hello Harry,” said Dumbledore.

“Hello, Professor,” said Harry. He wondered what exactly he was going to look like when the charm was on him. Strangely, Dumbledore answered his question without him even asking it.

“The charm I am going to perform on you today will mask all of the features you have from your father and will once again replace them with James Potter’s. It will not, however, mask your height or the fact that you no longer need glasses. I must warn you now that the charm will make you extremely tired the first time I put it on you. That is because the charm has to work with your magic to create the illusion. It will last about two weeks each time it is placed on you. Are you ready?” said Dumbledore. Harry nodded mutely. He had to get this done. He really didn’t want his friends to know, not yet.

“Yes,” said Harry.

“Good. Up now, then,” said Dumbledore, who stood up. Harry stood up also and faced Dumbledore. Dumbledore pulled out his wand and said, “Cacher apparence vrai.” Harry felt a strange tingling all over his body, which increased until he was feeling exhausted. The spell finally ceased and he collapsed into his chair. He let his head fall backwards and slumped down into the chair.

“Perhaps you should take him up to his room,” he heard Dumbledore say.

“Yes, I believe that is a good idea,” said Snape. Harry closed his eyes slightly and felt Snape’s strong arms scoop him out of the chair. He succumbed to the darkness.

Harry woke up feeling exhausted still. He stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom. He was only mildly surprised at seeing himself almost completely restored to how he had looked at the start of summer.

Harry entered Platform Nine and Three Quarters via a Portkey. Snape left him as soon as they’d arrived and he got onto the train feeling tired.

He had taken the potion earlier that morning and it seemed as though it was working less and less. He’d had to increase the amount of potion he took everyday and the times he took it. He would soon be needing to make more of it. Hopefully he would be able to find the time to do so.

He dragged his trunk into an empty compartment and shoved it into a luggage rack. Harry then sat down on the seat and fell asleep. He was awoken by the voices of his friends and sat up feeling a bit better.

“Can’t a person get any sleep around here?” he asked jokingly.

“Sorry mate. We didn’t mean to wake you up,” said Ron.

“That’s s’alright,” he said around a yawn. “What time is it anyways?”

“We’ve got about an hour until we reach Hogwarts,” said Hermione. Any further conversation was halted by the opening of their compartment door and the entrance of Malfoy. Harry stood up and pulled out his wand. He was in no mood to deal with Malfoy.

“Get out of here,” said Harry.

“I see you’re still trying to order people around, aren’t you?” commented Malfoy. Harry didn’t miss the slight reference to what had happened during the summer.

“I don’t care what you think Malfoy. Just get out of here and leave us alone,” said Harry. Malfoy pulled out his wand.

“I really think you should think twice before ordering a Malfoy around,” drawled Malfoy. Harry began to get angry. He pulled out his own wand.

“Expelliarmus,” said Harry. Malfoy’s wand flew out of his hand and into the corridor.

“Get out or I’ll do much worse,” said Harry.

“You’ll be sorry, Potter. A Malfoy always gets revenge,” said Malfoy before stalking out of the compartment. Harry slammed the door shut and sealed it with several locking spells. He threw himself back into his seat and shoved his wand in his pocket.

“You seem really different, Harry,” commented Hermione.

“He made me mad, that’s all,” said Harry shortly.

“I don’t know if that’s all,” said Hermione. “You remind me of someone. I just can’t think of who.”

“It is. Now drop it,” said Harry. He stared out the window and saw that they were nearing Hogwarts. They got their robes out of their trunks and Harry snuck a drink of the potion while he was pulling his robes over his head. He quickly shoved the vial in his pocket so that Ron and Hermione wouldn’t see and sat back down. He was going to have to be careful around Hermione. She was smart, she would probably begin to suspect something.

As it turned out, Hermione wasn’t the one to actually guess at Harry’s true parentage. As they were entering the Entrance Hall, Peeves emptied a bucket of ice-cold water on the trio. After using a drying charm on his robes, Harry stalked off towards the Great Hall. He heard Ron and Hermione running to catch up with him and Ron grabbed his arm, stopping him from entering the Great Hall.

“Bloody hell mate. I know who you remind us of. Snape. Are you sure your real father was James Potter?” Harry’s jaw dropped open in horror. Luckily, Ron misinterpreted Harry’s look and quickly said, “No offense, but you are starting to act like him. You really changed this summer. Maybe you spent too much time with Snape.”

“James Potter is my father,” said Harry and went into the Great Hall. They sat through the Sorting ceremony. There seemed to be fewer first years than usual this year. It was probably because of the threat of Voldemort. Muggle parents wouldn’t want their children in the midst of a war.

Harry caught Snape watching him all throughout the Feast and wondered why until his scar began to burn slightly. Snape must be being called, thought Harry. He wondered if there was a way to block the Dark Mark’s call. Hmm…he decided to ask Snape about that later. Harry felt someone shaking his shoulder slightly

“Harry, it’s time to go,” said Ron.

“What?” asked Harry.

“Dumbledore just excused us. Come on,” said Hermione.

“I think I’d rather walk up by myself,” said Harry. “What’s the password?” Hermione looked like she didn’t want to, but gave him the password anyway.

“It’s Unity. Now Ron, we’d better make sure the prefects are helping the first years,” said Hermione. Harry thanked her and headed out of the Great Hall. He headed up to the seventh floor, taking all the shortcuts he knew. He was walking along the fifth floor when he heard his name being called.

“Mister Potter, what are you doing all by yourself?” What did Snape want now? He turned around to face his father.

“I didn’t want to walk with Ron and Hermione,” replied Harry.

Snape walked towards him and said quietly, “I thought I warned you to be careful. You never know who’s watching.” He continued in a louder voice. “Detention, Mr. Potter. Tomorrow night in my office at six.” He stalked off, leaving Harry dumbfounded. Snape had just given him detention for no reason! Infuriated, he stormed up to Gryffindor Tower and up to his dormitory. He flopped down on his bed and stared at the top of his bed.

Several minutes later, he heard talking from the Common Room. He quickly changed into pajamas and took the Sleeping Potion, then climbed into bed, pulling the curtains shut behind him. Almost instantly he fell into a dreamless sleep.

He awoke to someone shaking him slightly and felt irritated. He had gotten used to being touched by his father, but not anyone else.

He sat up and said, “Ron, would you please not touch me?”

Ron immediately backed off and said, “Sure mate.” Harry got up and dressed him his robes, then went downstairs to the Common Room, where Hermione was waiting for them. When they arrived in the Great Hall for breakfast, Harry noticed Snape watching him. He glared at him before sitting down with Ron and Hermione. Surprisingly, he received an envelope from a plain brown owl. He opened it to find a note from his father. It read:

Harry,

The Headmaster wishes for us to recommence Occlumency lessons as soon as possible. We are now under the scrutiny of students who are quite possible loyal to the Dark Lord, therefore, the lessons must still be kept a secret. I trust you know what to do with this letter.

Professor Snape

So that explained the detention. Harry incinerated the letter with his wand and returned to his breakfast.

“Wha’ waszat?” asked Ron, whose mouth was full of food.

“Just a note from Snape reminding me about my detention tonight,” said Harry.

“You got a detention already!” exclaimed Hermione. “What did you do?”

“Umm…Snape caught me walking around by myself last night,” said Harry.

“Tha’s na’a reezon for detension,” mumbled Ron through his food.

“I’m not supposed to walk around by myself. The little Junior Death Eaters will get me,” said Harry.

“If Snape told you not to walk by yourself, then you should have stayed with us, Harry. Maybe you’ll learn to listen now,” said Hermione. Before Harry got a chance to yell at her, Professor McGonagall came around with their timetables. Harry glanced at his and discovered that he had Potions first.

“Rotten luck, mate. I’ve got Care of Magical Creatures first,” said Ron.

“I’m taking Potions as well, Harry,” said Hermione.

“I need Potions to be an Auror, Ron,” said Harry. He didn’t add, And I’m safer being with Professor Snape than with Hagrid. He was sure he was safer with a wizard who was well-versed in the Dark Arts. Hagrid wasn’t even supposed to do magic. He wouldn’t be much help against the Junior Death Eaters who were sure to know loads of Dark Magic by now.

“True, but at least Hagrid isn’t an evil git,” said Ron. Harry resisted an urge to punch Ron. Or slap him, at the very least. Just because he happened to hate most Gryffindors didn’t make him evil, he was just partial to his own House.

The House you would have been in had you not listed to Ron, whispered a little voice at the back of his mind. He ignored it and realized that he hadn’t taken the potion yet today. Shit, he needed it before class. He stood up and quickly lied about needing to get his Potions book, leaving Ron and Hermione alone at the table. He could feel his father’s eyes on him as he left the Great Hall. He went up to the Tower and grabbed a few extra vials of the potion and spelled them unbreakable before slipping them into his bag.

He headed to Potions with the usual giddy, light feeling the potion gave him at first. He liked that part best about the potion. It was nice to not have to worry about Voldemort, his friends, life, being on time to class…..

His mind continued rambling until he walked straight into something very hard. He blinked and found himself face-to-face with one of the stone walls of the dungeons. He rubbed his forehead as he continued to Snape’s classroom. Hermione was waiting by the door for him and they entered together. Snape walked in and glared at the class before beginning his start-of-term speech.

“Welcome to my NEWT class. This is an advanced class, and as such, I will not hesitate to remove you if you are not meeting my expectations. Some of you would do well to leave now.” There were a few nervous murmurs, but no one left.

“This will be a difficult class. We will be studying potions that are difficult and dangerous. If I hear that any of you are attempting these options outside of class, you will be expelled.” he flicked his wand at the board and the instructions for Polyjuice Potion appeared there.

“Today we will be beginning Polyjuice Potion. Mr. Potter, can you tell me how long the Polyjuice Potion takes to make?” Harry smiled inwardly. Snape finally asked him a question he could answer.

“One month,” he answered confidently.

“That is correct, Mr. Potter. What should you not attempt to change yourself into using Polyjuice?” He knew that answer as well.

“An animal,” said Harry.

“That is also correct. Now, take out your books and read the section on human transfiguration potions.” Snape settled himself into his desk and watched them take out their books and begin reading. Several lines in, Harry began to get bored.

What was the point of learning theory when you already knew how to make the potion? After about a half an hour reading, or pretending to read under the close scrutiny of the Potions Master, the bell rang for them to go to their next class.

~Snape’s POV~

Snape returned to his seat and watched the sixth years read about human transfiguration potions. He was surprised that Harry had been able to answer the questions about Polyjuice, something he’d probably never come across before.

Then he remembered how his copy of Most Potente Potions had disappeared for several weeks. Surely the boy hadn’t been studying for Potions? He had to have read the book, though. That was the only way he could have known the answers. He wondered what else Harry had seen in that book. He hoped Harry hadn’t attempted any of them. Most of the options that were contained in that book were highly dangerous and potentially lethal if used improperly.

He looked at Harry, whose eyes weren’t zooming back and forth across the pages, like most of his classmates’. Instead, he was staring intently at one spot on the book and flipping to the next page every few minutes and tapping his fingers on the table in front of him. Harry suddenly looked up and their eyes locked. He quickly looked down again and stopped his finger tapping. He began playing with a corner of his book, folding the paper back and forth.

Snape fought the urge to yell at him for not reading. He focused instead on Harry’s strange behavior. Harry had never fidgeted around in class. Instead, he had paid perfect attention to him, taking notes, not talking to his friends, like some of his Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws.

Finally, the bell rang and Snape prepared himself to teach the first year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. They wouldn’t be hard to scare, he though happily as the nervous eleven-year-olds began walking in.

An hour later, he was walking to the Great Hall for lunch, pleased with having managed to take away almost thirty points altogether from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw and had even reduced a few Hufflepuffs to tears. He seated himself beside Lupin and watched students come in.

Harry came in surrounded by the rest of his little Gryffindor fan club and sat down at the Gryffindor table surrounded by the lot. He helped himself to food, but didn’t eat. He stared, seemingly transfixed by something on the opposite side of the room. Snape looked in that direction, but saw nothing but a blank stone wall. He looked back and saw Harry’s friends poking him.

~Harry’s POV~

Harry stared across the room, watching snakes worm their way out of a cracks that had appeared in the wall. Where were all the snakes coming from? He was pondering whether or not to get up and look when he felt hands on him arm. He continued watching the snakes until the feel of hands on him became too much.

He turned away from the snakes and said, “What?”

“You were spacing out for a minute there, Harry,” siad Ron.

“I was wa--” He turned back to point out the snakes and saw that they were gone. Where did they go? “I thought I asked you not to touch me?” said Harry.

“Sorry mate, but we had to get your attention.” said Ron with a look at Hermione that clearly said Hermione had been the one to tell Ron to get his attention. Hermione, however, looked troubled.

“Why did you ask Ron not to touch you?” she asked in a low voice.

“That’s none of your business,” said Harry.

“But--”

“Just drop it, Hermione,” said Harry. She still looked like she wanted to say something, so Harry got up and walked out of the Great Hall. He went up to the fourth floor and into the Room of Requirement, which was a strange mix between a Slytherin and Gryffindor Common Room.

He threw himself into a red and silver striped armchair and dug through his bag for one of the vials of pink potion. He finally found one and drank the whole thing. He relaxed in the chair as the familiar lightness came over him. Strangely enough, he felt tired. He closed his eyes, thinking he would just take a nap before Transfiguration. He woke up to find that several hours had passed and it was nearly five-thirty.

“Shit,” he said as he realized that he’d missed Transfiguration. He’d probably end up with another detention. Hermione was going to kill him. He headed down to the kitchens to get a snack rather than be berated endlessly by Hermione and get a detention in front of her. He hung out in the kitchens until it was time to go to Snape’s office. Snape was seated at his desk, writing on a piece of parchment.

“Close the door and sit down,” said Snape without looking up. Harry obediently complied and took a seat across from Snape. Snape continued writing for several minutes and Harry sat watching him. He finally set his quill aside and said, “Why weren’t you in Transfiguration?”

Well that was certainly unexpected. Harry knew he was going to have to come up with a good excuse, and fast. He realized it was going to cost him to get out of this. McGonagall was sure to have checked the Common Room and the boys’ dormitories. Either way, telling the truth or a lie, he was going to have to give up his secret.

“I fell asleep in the Room of Requirement,” said Harry.

“You fell asleep?” asked Snape dryly.

“Umm…yeah. I was tired,” said Harry. That was the truth.

“You do seem to be tired a lot these days. Aren’t you taking your potion?” asked Snape.

“I don’t take it every night,” admitted Harry. He didn’t want to depend on it to sleep.

An oxymoron if he ever saw one, with him taking that potion all the time just to keep himself calm. But it wasn’t like the sleeping potion. He could sleep on his own and suffer through the nightmares. They didn’t happen all the time now, anyways. Usually he was so tired by the end of the day that he didn’t have any dreams.

But it wasn’t like that with the pink potion. He needed it to stay calm. Otherwise he’d end up trying to kill himself again and he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t take the easy way out and leave the Wizarding World to fight Voldemort by itself.

Speaking of which, it had been several hours since he’d last had the potion, he needed to take more. There was at least one more vial in his bag and he wanted the lesson to be over with as soon as possible so he could sneak off somewhere and drink it. He fidgeted anxiously in his chair, watching Snape write something else on the parchment. Suddenly, Snape rolled up the parchment and stood up, pulling out his wand.

“Stand up. We will begin now,” said Snape. Harry stood up and pulled out his wand.

“Leglimens,” said Snape quietly and immediately, Harry was seeing memories flash before his eyes.

He was waking up in his room at Privet Drive the morning after returning from Hogwarts.

He was lying on a stone floor, alone and in pain.

He was peering into a cauldron of a bubbling pink liquid.

Shit, he thought with a sinking stomach.

“What was that?” asked Snape. Oh hell, how was he going to explain this? Think, he thought desperately.

“It’s something Hermione was working on last year. Some sort of potion to fix her hair, I think,” said Harry. Snape looked into his eyes and Harry forced himself to think of nothing by Quidditch. The whoosh of a Bludger flying past his ear. The fluttering of the Snitch’s tiny wings. The thud of a Quaffle landing in a Chaser’s outstretched arms. And diving down, down, racing after the Snitch.

“Well, Harry, I believe that you have successfully managed to keep me out of your mind,” said Snape. When had Snape cast Leglimens on him? He had never even heard him.

“You need to work on blocking me without even thinking. You must be able to shield your mind at a moments notice,” said Snape. “Otherwise, well done.” Had just Snape told him he’d done well? He was going to have to check when he got out of Snape’s office to see whether the sky was still intact and the world hadn’t been destroyed.

“Thank you,” said Harry quietly.

“Let’s try once more, shall we?” said Snape. “Leglimens.”

He wasn’t ready that time and was barraged by memories of Voldemort’s torture, his Uncle, Sirius dying.

The memories suddenly stopped and Harry found himself on the floor of Snape’s office with his right arm and stomach throbbing painfully. He sat up and felt a sharp pain sear his stomach. He bit his lip to keep from crying out and shakily stood up.

“We will continue this lesson on Friday. You may go now,” said Snape. Harry picked up his bag and left Snape’s office. He decided to go and sit up on the Astronomy Tower now that Snape knew about the Room of Requirement. He seated himself against one of the parapets and pulled a vial of the pink potion out of his beg. He quickly drank it and relaxed as the potion calmed him.

Not five minutes later, the calmness was wearing off, leaving Harry feeling worse than he had felt before. He dumped his bag out on the floor to find another vial of potion. He found two more vials and stuffed the rest of his things back in his beg. He hadn’t swallowed more than half a vial when he felt a sharp pain in his stomach. He dropped the vial of potion and clutched his stomach.

~Snape’s POV~

Snape stalked the halls of Hogwarts, looking for his son. Professor McGonagall had come to his office about twenty minutes ago to tell him that she couldn’t find Harry again to inform him of his detention. She had only assigned him one night, which Snape didn’t agree with. Had a student, any student, skipped his class they would be in detention for at least a week.

He had already checked the kitchens and the Room of Requirement, where Harry had hid earlier, but hadn’t found him. Where would any student go to hide? And them it hit him. The Astronomy Tower. Oh hell, he thought as he walked up the staircase that led to the top of the Tower. There, he was met by a surprising sight. His son was curled up on the floor, gasping for breath.

He knelt by Harry’s side and said, “Harry, can you hear me?” feeling a strange sense of déjà vu. He’d asked that same question upon the return from the Dark Lord.

“Hurts,” whispered Harry.

“Where?” asked Snape. As Harry pointed to his chest, Snape noticed a vial of a bright pink liquid laying on Harry’s bag.

He picked it up and studied it carefully, not recognizing the liquid. He recalled the memory he’d seen earlier of Harry looking into a cauldron full of a pink liquid and felt his stomach turn to ice.

“Harry, what is this?” he asked, holding the vial so Harry could see it. Harry shook his head and moaned softly in pain.

“Did you drink this?” Harry again shook his head. Snape noticed his eyelids beginning to droop. He lifted Harry into a sitting position and shook him lightly.

“Harry, you can’t go to sleep right now. I need to know what you’ve taken.” What the hell was that pink liquid? He remembered seeing it somewhere, just couldn’t remember where. He wrapped an arm around Harry’s shoulder to keep him upright and placed his right hand on the floor for support.

His hand touched something wet and sticky. He brought his hand up to his face for further inspection and saw that there was a faint pink color on it. He rubbed his hand clean on his robes and looked for the source of the mess.

An empty vial was laying on the floor close to him. He picked it up and saw that there was a small amount of the pink liquid in it. So Harry had had some of the pink liquid then. There was another full vial on Harry’s bag. He opened Harry’s bag and found two more empty vials. Just how much of the potion had Harry taken? The way it looked, Harry had had way too much of the potion. He needed to get Harry to the hospital wing.

He picked up the vials and placed them in a pocket of his robes. He slung Harry’s bag over his shoulder and picked up Harry. He still wasn’t much heavier than the day he’d tried to kill himself. Thinking about that made him grow even more concerned for the boy in his arms.

As he made his way to the hospital wing, he began to talk softly, hoping to keep Harry’s attention focused on him and not how much he hurt or wanted to curl up and go to sleep. He knew enough from his potions experience that if Harry fell asleep, he might never wake up again, he knew that he couldn't bear losing another person that he cared about. He opened the door to the hospital wing with one hand and walked over to Madam Pomfrey’s office. She opened the door immediately upon hearing Snape knock and came out.

“Put him on the bed over there.” She pointed at the one nearest to her office.

“What happened to him?” she asked as she looked him over. Snape set Harry’s bag down and pulled out the potion vials.

“I think he took these,” he said. “I don’t know what was in them.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know either. I can give him something for his racing heart and probably a sedative for when the potion wears off, but I can’t do anything else until I know what he took. I’ll have to watch him until the potion wears off,” said Madam Pomfrey. Racing heart. He mentally added that to the list of Harry’s symptoms.

“I will go to my lab then, and see if this matches anything I have in my stores,” said Snape. He thought he had an idea of what the potion was now and needed to check Moste Potente Potions. If it was what he thought, then he needed to go make an antidote right away. He went to his office and got out his copy and settled down in his chair. He pulled out the list he had been working on of Harry’s symptoms and added racing heart and chest pain to it.

He flipped through the book, searching for the potion that matched Harry’s symptoms. He was several pages past Polyjuice when he found it. He felt his breath catch in his throat as he read exactly what the potion was for.

Humeur Ascenseur -- the mood-lifting potion

Created in 1758 by Edgar Stroulger.

Use is heavily restricted by the Ministry of Magic because of the dangers of prolonged use. Used as a treatment for depressed patients at Wizard Hospitals, though patient must be monitored closely while taking the potion, as effectiveness is decreased in time and patient may become addicted due to increased need for potion.

Signs of over-use may include:

Bizarre behavior, decrease in responsiveness, hallucination, abnormal vital signs.

If an overdose is suspected, get patient to nearest hospital for treatment. The potion must be allowed to completely wear off, as there is no known antidote.

Sedation is suggested for more depressed patients.

No antidote? He checked the ingredients list to see if there was a possibility of creating one in a short amount of time. His eyes widened as he saw that belladonna was one of the ingredients Antidote to belladonna, where the hell was it? That would help curb most of the overdose symptoms. He looked through numerous cupboards and finally found a vial of the blood-red liquid.

He blew the dust off of it and walked back up to the hospital wing as fast as he could without looking suspicious. He handed the vial to Madam Pomfrey without telling her what it was. If she knew what Harry had been taking, she’d probably have him shipped off to St. Mungos’ Psychiatric Ward without a second thought. Harry wasn’t insane, he just had a lot more problems than anyone else his age.

She carefully poured the antidote into Harry’s mouth and saw that he swallowed it. When his breathing slowed, she looked somewhat mollified and turned back to him.

“What was that?” she asked.

“It was for his heart,” said Snape simply.

“I know that, but what was it?” she pressed.

Snape chose to ignore her question and said instead, “I need to go inform Dumbledore of the….situation.” He got up and left Madam Pomfrey sputtering behind him. He gave the gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore’s office the latest idiotic password, Skittles, and headed up the spiral staircase. What was a Skittles anyways?

“Hello Severus,” greeted Dumbledore the instant he walked through the door. “Quite surprising to see you this time of night.” Dumbledore was wearing robes that were bright pink with strange multi-colored circles all over them.

“Have a seat. Lemon Drop? Skittle?” Dumbledore held out a handful of the small circles that matched the ones on his robes. So that’s what a Skittle was. Some kind of Muggle sweet.

“No thank you,” said Snape with a slight sneer on his face, as he sat down.

“Now, what brings you up here at this hour? It can’t be for just my company,” Dumbledore said, his eyes sparkling.

How he so wished to want to be up here just to sit and talk about Skittles with Dumbledore.

“No, it’s not,” said Snape. He launched into his story of everything that had happened since he had taken Harry to stay at Snape manor. When he finished, Dumbledore was looking quite subdued as he munched thoughtfully on several Skittles.

“I believe we have a few options here. If Harry is indeed addicted to this potion, then he’s going to need a lot of attention before he can resume classes. The best thing to do would be to take him to St. Mungo’s for treatment. There are some Healers who a re specially trained in this area.”

“I’d rather not take Harry there. I don’t believe it’s entirely safe there, especially for Harry,” said Snape.

“Hmm….perhaps there is another solution. You would be able to brew the required potions, would you not?” said Dumbledore. Snape nodded mutely. What kind of crazy plan was Dumbledore coming up with now?

“I propose that we have a Healer come here and instruct you as to what to do for Harry. He can be moved to your quarters, where you would both stay until his treatment is complete. I would take over your classes, under Polyjuice, of course.” Snape was flabbergasted. How had Dumbledore come up with such a good plan in such a short amount of time? He had to credit the man, although he had his suspicions of Dumbledore being partially--well, actually mostly, the cause of Harry's depression, Dumbledore did come up with some brilliant plans.

“If that is acceptable, then I will have Harry moved to your quarters once he is more stable,” said Dumbledore. He bent down and pulled two rectangular red bags from a drawer in his desk and handed them to Snape.

“Skittles for you and Harry,” said Dumbledore, the twinkle back in his eyes. Snape thanked him, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes, and went to his quarters to prepare for having Harry staying with him. He selected an empty room that he usually used as a storage room and within an hour, had it transformed into a smaller replica of Harry’s room in Snape Manor.

~Harry’s POV~

Harry opened his eyes to the familiar sight of his room in Snape’s house. What was he doing back there? Had his return to Hogwarts been a dream? Harry sat up and looked around. The room looked the same, but it seemed different somehow. He got out of bed and saw that there was only one doorway; the one that led out to the main hallway. He heard voices coming from the hallway and moved over to the door to listen in.

“…room is just through here.”

“Thank you, Professor Snape.” A woman’s voice. Who would be visiting here? Especially a woman. He opened the door to see who was there and almost gasped in shock. He was not in Snape’s house. Snape and a woman with long blonde hair were standing near the door in a hallway covered in dark blue carpet. The woman was the first to recover from the shock of seeing him open the door and stepped forward with her hand outstretched.

“Hello Harry,” she said.

Harry ignored her hand and asked, “Who are you?”

She dropped her hand and said, “I’m sorry. I should have introduced myself first. I am Alejandra Garmond. I work at a Muggle hospital. Your father asked me to come here and see you.” Harry looked at Snape, who was still standing where he had been when Harry had opened the door.

“We didn’t expect you to wake up so soon,” said Alejandra.

“I will leave you two to talk, then,” said Snape.

“Wait,” called Harry. He had one more question to ask. “Where are we?” Snape answered without looking back.

“My quarters at Hogwarts.” He disappeared through a door on the opposite side of the hallway, leaving Harry and the woman alone.

“Why don’t we go in you room and talk?” suggested Alejandra.

“Sure,” said Harry. He went back into his room and sat on his bed. Alejandra pulled a chair over next to his bed and sat down. She got a clipboard and a Muggle pen out of a bag she set on the floor and laid it on her knees. She clicked the pen on and looked at him.

“Okay, Harry. I just have a few questions for you,” said Alejandra. A few turned out to be quite a lot. Finally, Alejandra laid her pen on the clipboard and set it on the floor. Relief flooded through Harry, until he saw what happened next. She pulled up her bag and withdrew a vial of pink liquid. What was she doing with that? Had Snape taken it out of his trunk? He dreaded to think what she was going to do with it...

She held it up so Harry could see it and asked, “Do you know what this is?” Harry stared at the vial. He’d rather drink that potion than answer any more of her questions. Maybe if he answered, she would give it to him.

“Yes,” said Harry.

“Do you know what this is for?” asked Alejandra.

“Yes,” said Harry.

“Well?” prompted Alejandra.

“It makes you happy,” said Harry.

“That’s all you know?”

“Umm…yes,” said Harry. Alejandra frowned, then bent down and pulled a book from her bag. She opened it and handed it to Harry.

“Read that,” she instructed. Harry’s eyes widened as he saw that the book was Moste Potente Potions and that it was opened to Humeur Ascenseur. He read the page and felt slightly sick as he realized what the potion could do to him.

“I take it you never read that,” said Alejandra. Harry shook his head.

“Your father believes that you are addicted to that potion,” she said, pointing at the book.

“I am not,” Harry objected.

“I think you are too,” said Alejandra. She held out the vial to him and stood up.

“Hold this for me while I go speak to your father,” she said and left him alone, holding the vial.

Exactly what he had wanted before reading about the potion. Except now, he didn’t want it. He didn’t want to feel like he needed to drink the potion. Harry closed his eyes, trying not to think about the cool glass vial that was now held in his sweaty palms.

~Snape’s POV~

Snape sat in his study, wondering how things were going with Alejandra and Harry. Dumbledore had said she’d be perfect to help Harry. She was a well-known Healer and worked at a special Muggle hospital for drug treatment, doing the same thing in various Wizard hospitals when her services were needed. He hoped she would be able to help Harry.

He heard knocking on the door and said, “Enter.” The door opened to admit Alejandra.

“What are you doing here?” Snape demanded.

“I’ve just given him a wake-up call,” she said.

“What?” asked Snape.

“It’s my best way of making a patient realize that they need help. It also help me to judge what kind of treatment they’ll need. In Harry’s case, I had him read the section on Humeur Ascenseur in Moste Potente Potions and right now he has a vial of what he thinks is the potion. I need to let him alone with it for several minutes, then I’ll return and assess him,” she said.

“May I watch?” asked Snape. He was rather curious to see how this test would affect Harry.

“Yes, but I must ask you not to interfere with anything I’m doing, even if it upsets you,” said Alejandra.

“I wouldn’t interfere with anything that might help Harry,” said Snape.

“You’d be surprised how many parents attempt to interfere when they see their child in distress, Professor Snape,” said Alejandra.

“I assure you I won’t,” promised Snape.

Several minutes passed in silence, then Alejandra said, “Time to go back.” She left the room with Snape following. Snape was shocked at the sight of his son.

Harry was sitting on his bed with his knees pulled up to his chest and his head resting on them. His gaze was focused entirely on the vial clutched in his right hand until he heard the door open. He looked up and smiled in a maniacal sort of way.

Alejandra sat down beside the bed and Harry tried to hand her the vial, but she said, “You hold it for now.” Harry frowned and looked at Snape. His gaze locked with Snape’s and Snape could see that his face was flushed slightly.

He jumped off the bed and held it out to Snape, saying, “Please take it.” Snape shook his head and backed away.

“Please, I can’t stand it anymore,” pleaded Harry.

“No, Harry,” said Snape. Harry collapsed to the floor, his whole body shaking. Snape was forced to endure watching Harry like that for what seemed like an eternity when Alejandra motioned for him to go ahead and comfort Harry.

He pulled the vial out of Harry’s grasp and pulled Harry close to him. Harry shivered slightly in his grasp and Snape felt the front of his robes becoming damp. Harry made quiet whimpering sounds as tears streamed down his face and were soaked up by Snape’s black robes. Eventually, Harry’s body grew limp and his breathing deep and even, letting Snape know that he had fallen asleep. He carefully placed Harry on his bed and turned to Alejandra.

She picked up her things and led the way out of Harry’s room. They sat down in his study and Alejandra pulled out her notes.

“From what I observed and what you’ve told me, Harry is definitely addicted. What I can do is tell you how to help him and what to expect. First of all, Harry was experiencing denial. He should be over this now and be ready to start the next phase of treatment. From documented cases of this same potion, he should be going through withdrawal for about two weeks or so.” She handed Snape a roll of parchment.

“This is a list of withdrawal symptoms. You just need to treat them with whatever you feel appropriate. Harry may have some serious cravings, so I suggest you do what I did and give him a vial of colored water to drink. It should trick his mind into thinking it’s the potion. After that, there will be about a week or so where he will need to be watched carefully. As this is an emotional stimulant potion and he was suicidal before taking it, being without the potion will be harder on him. He can return to classes whenever you feel he is ready to, but make sure you have people watching him. Got it?” said Alejandra. Snape nodded mutely, surprised at how much she knew.

“Good. Anything you might need to know is on that parchment, but if you need to talk to me, you may Owl me, Floo if it’s an emergency. I should be getting back to the hospital now.” Snape pointed out he fireplace and she Floo’ed off to her office in London Medical Center. Snape unrolled the parchment partially and began to read.

~Harry’s POV~

Harry sat up quickly in bed and looked around. Seeing no one in the room with him, he climbed out of his bed and headed for his trunk. He needed to take the potion.

Halfway there, he stopped and remembered that he couldn’t have any more of the potion and that the rest of his supply had probably been taken out of his trunk. The potion could kill him. In fact, he had probably already come close to dying.

Oh Merlin, how could he have been so stupid? Snape had always had them read about a potion before making it. He should have remembered that. But no, all he had wanted was a quick fix to his problem. He had learned the hard way that there was no “quick fix”, no easy way out. He rubbed his wrist, where the thin white scars lay and leaned against the bedpost.

He was the Boy-Who-Lived. There could be no easy way out for him. Not now, not ever. He ran a hand through his short hair, “James Potter” hair and sighed. Nothing was ever easy for him and now this. Getting over being addicted to that stupid potion was going to be hard. Why, oh why had he even done it?

No one was supposed to know, said a little voice in the back of his mind. Just like no one was supposed to know about your arms.

But they did. No detail of his life could be private. He supposed this was actually why he had done it. First ran that glass over his arm, first taken a sip of that potion. He wanted something that was all his own. Something that no one else knew. Merlin, he hated this.

He kicked viciously at the bedpost, earning himself a sharp pain his foot. He sank to the floor and buried his face in the mattress, biting his lip to keep from screaming in frustration. He slammed his fists into the mattress and barely registered it when a pair of arms wrapped around his chest and pulled him away from the bed. He relaxed into the arms, grateful to be held, grateful that he had a father, one that was alive.

That’s what you have of your own. Just one thing that no one else knows about. A father. A real father, whispered the voice.

“Harry?” Harry twisted around so he could see his father’s face.

“Yeah?”

“You realize that this is only going to get worse before it can get better?” asked Snape.

“I kind of figured that,” Harry muttered, ashamed of how much trouble he had caused.

“Dumbledore will be teaching my classes for the next couple of weeks so that I can be here with you,” said Snape. Harry blinked, surprised. Well that was unexpected, he thought.

“But what about Alejandra?” asked Harry.

“She was only here to tell me how to care for you. I would rather be the one to help you, rather than a Healer you don’t know and could possibly be on Polyjuice or something like that. I’d just rather not risk it,” said Snape, concern clearly evident in his eyes.

“Oh,” said Harry quietly. He was starting to get a headache from that stupid voice that kept urging him go find some of that potion. He closed his eyes and rubbed at his forehead.

“Scar?” asked Snape.

“No, just a headache,” replied Harry. Snape set Harry back on the floor and stood up.

“Where are you going?” asked Harry, concerned that his father would leave him alone again, forced to dwell on horrible memories for hours on end. He just wouldn't be able to take it. Harry knew he would either have to find some more of the potion, or resort to cutting himself again, and he didn't think he could do that, not after the fiasco with the Death Eaters...

“To get you something for your headache. Do you want to come with me?” said Snape. Harry shook his head, relieved that his dad would only be gone for a couple of minutes at most, and scooted backwards to lean on the side of the bed. His whole body was starting to ache for no reason, like he’d been in a Muggle fight. Snape returned several minutes later with a vial of potion, which Harry happily drank. His headache ceased, but the pain in his muscles persisted.

“Why don’t you get some rest, Harry?” suggested Snape. Harry shook his head; he wasn’t tired at all. Except for his aching muscles and that cursed voice, he felt fine.

“Do you have any more sleeping potion?” asked Snape.

“No,” said Harry. He’d used it all up a few days ago.

“I’ll make you some more, then. Would you like to help?” asked Snape.

“Sure,” said Harry. He followed Snape out of his room and into a room down the hall. Snape had him sit at a table and take care of ingredients for him.

Slicing, grinding, dicing, whatever the instructions called for. He began to get bored as he started in on grinding knarl quills. He tapped his finger against the mortar as he ground him quills into fine dust. He finished grinding and dropped the pestle into the bowl. He then hopped off his stool and began to wander throughout the room.

He found nothing of interest until he found a cupboard in the back containing racks of potions. His breath caught in his throat as he saw a vial of familiar pink potion. He suddenly found his hand stretching out to grab the vial. Harry backed away, his eyes locked on the vial.

It would be so easy to just grab it and drink it. Snape would never know. He was so absorbed in making the sleeping potion for you.

No, he thought desperately. He couldn’t have it. He couldn’t give in. He closed his eyes, wishing desperately for the potion to just disappear. Something, anything so he didn’t have the temptation. Knowing it was there, just an arms length away was sheer torture. He needed that potion. He pulled his hands behind his back and clasped them together tightly.

“You know you want to,” a voice that sounded like Voldemort whispered softly in his ear. He opened his eyes to find no one there. No, he didn’t want it. He didn’t want the potion.

“Yes, you do,” whispered the voice. His head snapped to the right, where he saw a flash of a white face, and crimson eyes glowed in the semi-darkness. Voldemort couldn’t be there, could he? He’d done it before, after all. Harry stepped closer to the shadows, wanting to see if it really was Voldemort. It was.

He held up a vial of pink liquid and smiled. Then, the potion changed into a gleaming silver knife and Voldemort’s face changed to that of Lucius Malfoy. Harry whimpered and found himself back in the stone room, sprawled on the floor.

Lucius reached down and grabbed his arm, the left one, the one that was covered in scars. He ran the cool blade down Harry’s arm, not pressing hard enough to even release the tiniest trickle of blood. Harry yanked his arm back and felt the knife cut into his hand. Lucius kicked viciously at him, then yanked him to his feet and pulled him close.

“You should have just killed yourself. It would have been far less painful,” said Lucius. He ran the blade down Harry’s left cheek.

“Oh how I would love to be the one to kill you,” he said, the blade dangerously close to Harry’s throat. “but that is the Dark Lord’s job. Mine is to have as much fun with you as I can.” Lucius leaned down and grabbed his shoulders. He pushed him backwards onto the floor, his head slamming into the stone with a loud thud, making Harry slightly dazed.

“Harry!” That was not Lucius. He could feel warm breath on his face. “Harry!”

Harry’s vision cleared and he could see Snape’s concerned face hovering over him. He sat up and looked around wildly. He was mollified when he saw that he was back in his room. Oh Merlin, why had he remembered that? He rubbed his head, trying to erase the memory from his mind.

“What happened?” asked Snape.

“I don’t know. One minute I was looking at your potions and the next it was like I was re-living a memory of….the Dursleys,” said Harry. He didn’t want to lie about what he’d seen, but he could tell his father what he’d really seen. He couldn’t tell anyone.

“What was it about?” asked Snape.

“It was -- I saw -- I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” said Harry. He was getting sick of Snape’s endless questioning every time he so much as breathed.

“Talking about it will help, I assure you,” said Snape. Harry had no doubt that he did know that, but was in no mood to talk.

“I don’t want to talk,” said Harry. Maybe he could sneak down to Snape’s lab and just have a sip of the potion. No, he couldn’t have that either.

“Just go away.”

Snape said, “Remember, you can talk to me anytime you feel like it,” and rested his hand on Harry’s shoulder.

Just the weight of it sent cold chills down his spine and he knocked it away, hissing, “Don’t touch me.” Snape looked slightly startled and hurt, but quickly put his mask up again and exited the room. Harry turned around and buried his face in his pillow. Hot tears fell from his eyes and were soaked up by the pillow.

He hated Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Sick bastards. He couldn’t wait until Dumbledore discovered a way to get rid of him for good. But no, he had to do that. He had to be their perfect little hero. He had to save them all. The world could go to hell. All he wanted was to be normal and live a normal life. Harry slowly drifted off to sleep, his face pressed to the damp pillow.

* The dream picked up exactly where it had left off. Harry felt Lucius’ warm breath on his face and was disgusted.

“Get off me!” he yelled as he swung his fist up and punched Lucius in the face. He fell to the side and Harry quickly scrambled to his feet. Lucius picked up the knife and started towards Harry, who saw that his lip was bleeding.

“You arrogant little brat, you’ll pay for that!” said Lucius as he raised the knife. The door suddenly appeared in the wall and a robed and masked Death Eater stepped in.

“The Dark Lord wishes to see you now,” said the Death Eater.

“You are very, very lucky,” whispered Lucius as he dragged the knife down Harry’s arm. He turned and stalked out of the room, leaving Harry alone with the unknown Death Eater. Harry clutched at his arm, which was bleeding slightly and watched the Death Eater.

“Time to play, Mr. Potter,” said the Death Eater. *

Harry woke up screaming. The door to his room banged open and Snape hurried through it.

“Voldemort?” he asked.

“No, nightmare,” said Harry.

“You’d better take this,” said Snape, holding out a vial of orange liquid.

“Thanks,” said Harry and drank the potion. He was immediately plunged into a nightmare-free sleep.

Harry awoke to find Snape seated in a chair near his bed, reading a scroll of parchment.

“Do you ever sleep?” asked Harry.

“When I need to,” replied Snape without looking up.

“Oh,” said Harry. “and what are you doing in my room?”

“I was merely watching to be sure you didn’t have any more nightmares,” said Snape. Harry knew there was more to it than that. Snape had no reasons to doubt his potion-making abilities, he was a Potions Master, after all.

“The potion worked just fine. Why are you really here?” asked Harry.

Snape looked up from the parchment and evenly replied, “I altered the formula slightly. I wished to see if it worked the same.” Snape had to admit, his son was very sharp, he knew when he was being lied to, or when someone wasn't sharing the whole truth with him. Harry knew there was more to it than that, but he also knew Snape would give him no more answers. Snape finally left the room, but all day, Harry felt as though he was being watched.

The next few days passed the same, with Snape “checking up” on him constantly and the “eyes” following his every move. Almost a week after Harry had been moved to Snape’s quarters, Harry was pacing around his room, debating on whether or not to sneak down to the potions lab and make some more of that potion. He felt like he was going to go insane without it.

In fact, he probably was already. He kept seeing strange things in the shadows of Snape’s quarters. Sometimes it would be an animal of some sort, but usually it was some horrifying vision of his horrible ordeal with Voldemort. At least he wasn’t having any more visions from Voldemort. They were almost as bad as his memories.

He finally sighed and knelt beside his trunk to get out the small roll of parchment that contained the instructions for the potion. He found it buried near the bottom and pulled it out. He unrolled the parchment and looked it over.

As soon as his eyes saw the word, belladonna, he felt disgusted with himself for giving in. He ripped the parchment up into pieces so small that they couldn’t be put back together and lit the pieces on fire. When the last flame flickered out, he panicked.

He pointed his wand at the ashes and said, “Reparo!” A single black fleck flew up from the pile and fluttered slowly back down.

“Dammit!” he cried and flung his wand across the room. Hot tears slid down his face and dripped into the pile of ash. It was over. He had just lost his last means of getting the potion. Part of him was wondering what the hell he had done, while another part of him was happy to get rid of it.

As he stared at the ashes, his numb mind registered the fact that he was being held by someone. He relaxed into the arms, finally letting himself show the pain that he’d been feeling for so long.

~Snape’s POV~

Snape walked down the hallway to check on Harry. He opened the door slightly and saw Harry ripping up a piece of parchment. Harry then picked up his wand and lit the pieces on fire. He was slightly alarmed, hoping that wasn't something important. Snape wondered why Harry had had the urge to burn a piece of paper? Snape hoped it wasn't something Harry felt he couldn't come to him with, a problem or something.

When the flames died away, Harry looked anguished and said, “Reparo.”

When that failed to restore the parchment, Harry yelled, “Dammit” and threw his wand across the room. Harry stared at the floor, obviously unhappy with what he had done. Snape walked quietly into the room to see what Harry had burned, but as he approached Harry, he could see tears falling down onto the pile of ashes.

“Harry,” he murmured as he knelt down and wrapped his arms around the boy. Harry didn’t fight him, just continued to cry silently. What seemed like hours later, he felt Harry go limp in his arms.

All that crying must have worn him out, thought Snape as he picked up his so and placed him in his bed, carefully pulling the blankets over him and tucking him in. He wasn’t happy with how light Harry was. He was going to have to get him to eat more, even if he didn’t want to. Alejandra had written that he might not want to eat.

Harry rolled over and curled into a ball. He decided not to wake him to give him the Sleeping Potion and spelled off the lights before leaving the room.

Several days later, Snape was getting ready for what Alejandra had said would be the worst part of being off the potion. Harry had gotten increasingly moody and much more easy to irritate. Snape suspected his constant watching over Harry was annoying him. He would rather be safe then sorry, though. He didn't want his son to be in danger.

“Hello sir,” said Harry as he walked into the living room where Snape was currently sitting. He sat down in a chair and began to read a rather large book.

“Your friends sent some of the work you’ve missed the past week,” said Snape. He pointed to a rather large stack of book and parchment lying on the table beside his chair.

“I believe your friend Miss Granger saw fit to write down every word your teachers have spoken during class. Just do the work and I’ll teach you the spells. Make a list of them as you go through the work and bring it to me when you’re done.”

Harry groaned. “Okay,” Harry mumbled. He walked slowly over and got the books and parchment and retreated back to the chair where he put the book he’d been reading aside and opened one of the ones that Snape had been give.

McGonagall had had Ron and Hermione collect his work and gave it to Dumbledore to give to him. Well, Dumbledore who she thought was himself. All the teachers had been quite shocked to hear of Harry’s parentage. They had all sworn not to let any of the students know until Harry felt he was ready. Snape personally didn’t give a damn who knew, now that he was known to be a spy.

He hoped the Slytherins weren’t giving Dumbledore too much trouble. Additionally, he hoped Dumbledore didn’t give away that he wasn’t really Snape. Knowing Dumbledore, he’d be teaching the students how to make candy or how to turn themselves different colors. Snape only hoped that he wasn't passing out Skittled if they did an adequete job brewing a potion. His evil act would be ruined forever.

He made a mental note to owl Dumbledore about what he was teaching the students so he could teach Harry the same things. He wanted Harry to be all caught up when it was time for him to return to classes.

Harry left the room and came back several minutes later with more parchment, a quill, and ink. He settled the book on his knee and began to scratch out something on the parchment. Snape pulled out his wand and floated a table over to where Harry was sitting. He quickly put it away and pretended to be reading his book.

“Thanks,” said Harry quietly as he spread out his books and parchment over the table. Snape returned his attention to the book. He was researching how to create a potion that would suppress nightmares and promote good dreams. The potion he’d already created blocked everything. He didn’t think it was healthy for Harry to try and block out all his memories of what had happened while he was held captive.

Several hours later, Harry presented him with the list of spells that he had requested along with, surprisingly, a list of potions.

Harry returned to his work and Snape was looking over the lists when Harry said, “It’s cold in here.”

Snape looked up, and saw that his son was shivering slightly. Snape did not feel cold, though perhaps that had come from years of living in the dungeons, but that did not stop him from Summoning a blanket for Harry. Harry accepted it with a thanks, sir. Which, for some reason, grated on his nerves. He was Harry’s father, and as such, he felt that Harry did not need to be calling him sir.

“If you wish, Harry, you may call me something other than sir. Father or Severus, perhaps?” said Snape.

“Okay, s-Severus,” said Harry quietly. He wrapped the blanket around himself and continued working on his schoolwork.

Three days later on Saturday, Snape was having Harry practice some of the spells he had missed when Harry suddenly threw his wand to the floor and said, “I can’t do this.” Snape walked over to him and gently asked him what was wrong.

He had been practicing a simple Vanishing Spell on some marbles that Snape had conjured for him. He suspected Harry’s anger wasn’t really related to the marbles, which were half-vanished, but more with the potion problem. He knew how to solve this problem, though.

He had taken to carrying around vials of colored water with a drop of Calming Potion added for when Harry got particularly frustrated. Harry could never tell the difference between the fake potions and the real one. He pulled a vial out of his robes and handed it to Harry.

He drank it gratefully and handed the empty vial back. Apparently, Harry thought that he was getting carefully monitored doses of the potion. Oh well. Harry could think what he wanted if it was helping him. He picked up Harry’s wand and handed it back to him, then continued with his research.

When he checked Harry’s progress an hour later, most of the marbles had disappeared and Harry was looking much calmer. Hmm, maybe the Calming Potion would work once Harry started to get worse….

~Harry’s POV~

Harry went to bed on Saturday night without taking the sleeping potion. He didn’t want to end up dependent on that too.

* He was lying on the cold stone trying to breathe through what felt like broken ribs. He tried to sit up and felt something hard collide with his stomach. He coughed weakly and heard someone laugh.

“Pathetic little boy. Crucio!”

Pain was ripping through his already tormented body. He screamed loudly as his body convulsed violently. The curse was lifted and Harry lay gasping on the floor.

“I’ve come back, my pet,” purred Lucius’ voice in his ear.

“Sick…bastard,” muttered Harry from between clenched teeth.

“Ah, but there you are wrong. I happen to be a pureblood. You, however, are a filthy little Mudblood, not good for anything except entertainment,” said Lucius, his warm breath on Harry’s face.

Then, the dream shifted and he was in the circular stone room with Voldemort seated on his throne-like chair. But this time, there were no Death Eaters holding him upright. In fact, they were completely alone in the dark room.

“Harry Potter,” said Voldemort softly.

“How is it you always manage to squirm out of my grasp?” Harry did not speak. Was this a vision? Or had Voldemort gotten in his head again? Or was this some sick nightmare his tormented mind had come up with?

“My Death Eaters will not grant you mercy from me. They will make you suffer the worst of torture. I am the only one who grants mercy. If any of my Death Eaters even tries to kill you, I assure you they will be dead before they can offer explanations to me.”

Mercy? Voldemort thought he granted mercy? His mercy was no mercy at all, thought Harry.

“I must reward Lucius, though. He did such a wonderful job on you. Such a faithful servant….” His voice died away as the dream world faded away and Harry was placed back in his own reality. *

Harry sat up in bed covered in sweat and trembling slightly. He felt slightly sick, like he was going to throw up. Those sick Death Eater bastards, he thought angrily.

He chewed anxiously on his nails, just wanting to forget everything that had happened while he had been held captive. Why couldn’t he just forget? Or better yet, why couldn’t he just wake up and find himself back in the cupboard under the stairs, completely ignorant of magic and his destiny. He wouldn’t be fighting the effects of a potion he had so stupidly chosen to take.

Merlin, he couldn’t take much more of this pressure. Everyone expected him to be so perfect and not have any problems. He laughed weakly, thinking about Ron and Hermione’s faces if they knew where he was and what he was doing, what he had done. Not to mention everyone else in the Wizarding World. It would ruin their view of him forever. He laughed harder, not sure why this was funny, but making no move to stop laughing.

Several hours or several minutes later, Harry calmed down and his giddy feeling was replaced with that of anger. He was angry at himself and just wanted to hurt something, anything. He rubbed the scars on his wrists and began to drag his stubby fingernail down the marred flesh. Several inches down, he stopped himself.

What the hell am I doing, he thought disgustedly. I’m solving a problem by creating another one. Or rather, beginning another problem afresh. He rubbed vigorously at the angry red marks, willing them to just disappear so that he could forget that he had ever thought about hurting himself.

He thought back to his short time in captivity and marveled at how his feeling now were pretty much the same as then. He thought back to lying back on the cold stone floor, helpless to do anything to protect himself as he was held down and beaten and cursed. All he had wanted was for it to end, for them to kill him and get it over with. He’d been hoping for death. He knew there was only a small chance that he’d be rescued and any way of rescuing him would be difficult.

But his father had managed it and he wanted to help again now, when Harry was drowning in despair. Harry wanted to let him, wanted to let him in so desperately, but all those years with the Dursleys had taken their toll on him.

He’d been taught not to show his feelings to others, to keep his problems to himself, to be independent. If you depended on someone, you always got hurt. The one person you could truly count on was yourself. Now, he was going to have to let Severus help him.

He wasn’t going to get anymore sleep that night, so Harry took the blanket that Snape had Summoned for him several days earlier and wrapped it around himself. He then padded out to the living room and curled up in his favorite chair near the fireplace, determined not to fall asleep. But sleep….and nightmares…came to him once again.

* He was lying on the ground in a pool of water…no blood. He screamed in pain as Lucius dragged a knife down his chest. Lucius laughed and pressed harder, cutting through soft tissue, looming ever closer to the precious organs that kept his life intact.

“Careful Lucius. Do not be overzealous in your revenge,” came a feminine voice. Harry turned his head slightly to the right and could form of Bellatrix Lestrange. He growled low in his and began to jump up to attack her, but a knee slamming forcefully into his stomach pushed him back down. His head hit the floor and Harry saw stars for a moment before his vision cleared and he could see Lucius’ face looming close to his.

“When will you ever learn to respect your superiors?” he asked. “Draco learned long before now never to attack a lady and a superior at that.”

“You think you’re my superior?” asked Harry. “You’re nothing but a low-life Death Eater.” Smack! Lucius’ fist connected with Harry’s right cheek and he tasted blood in his mouth.

“You insolent brat! How dare you insult me!” Lucius suddenly stood up and walked over to Bellatrix. Harry was grateful for the relief from the weight of Lucius on his stomach.

The pain in his chest was beginning to worsen. He could feel the blood being pumped out of his cuts, his life-force steadily flowing out of his body. His vision began to get hazy and Harry closed his eyes, welcoming the darkness that was closing in, the darkness which promised to free him of the pain, free him of the memories. Those awful memories that plagued his soul.

Vaguely, he realized that there was a tingling in his chest as the cuts were healed. He barely registered it as a vial was held to his lips and he drank without thought. He finally slipped into the wonderful darkness.

So nice, he thought as floated in a sea of blackness without a care in world. But he felt someone shaking him.

“Harry!”

“No,” he mumbled, wanting to stay in the darkness.

“Harry!” The voice faded away and Harry returned to his dream world.

* He was upright, but not on his own legs. His arms were held behind him and he realized that he was chained to a wall. He couldn’t get away even if he tried. He was helpless. He had never felt so lost in his entire life.

His head fell limply to the side as he began to give up hope of ever being rescued. He was not going to be saved. He was going to die down here, never see any of his friends again. Tears slid down his face as he completely gave up….

~Snape’s POV~

He finally found Harry curled up in his usual chair in front of the fireplace, wrapped up in a blanket. He was shivering slightly and mumbling to something incoherent.

“Harry!” called Snape.

“No,” mumbled Harry. Snape tried again to wake Harry.

“Harry!” When that failed to elicit a response, Snape picked up Harry and carried his exceedingly light son back to his room. Once Harry was re-tucked in, Snape noticed the full vial of Sleeping Potion on the table beside Harry’s bed.

“Idiot boy,” he muttered as he slid the vial into his pocket. He checked his pockets and found that he didn’t have any Calming Draught with him. Harry was sure to need it after not taking the Sleeping Potion. He went back to his lab to get some of the potion.

When he returned to Harry’s room, he found him sitting up in bed, his knees pulled up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them. He looked up when Snape entered the room and he could see tears running down his face.

Harry dropped his head to his knees and mumbled, “I did it again.”

“What?” asked Snape. Harry held out his shaking left arm without looking up. Snape stood beside the bed and found several red scratch marks on Harry’s pale skin. He pulled the vial out of his pocket and put it in Harry’s hand, closing his fingers around it.

“It’ll get better, I promise. Just drink this for now,” said Snape. Harry complied and looked relieved as the potion took effect.

“Do you want to talk about it?” asked Snape.

He was sure the boy would brush him off again, but he was surprised when Harry said, “The nightmares are getting worse. I keep seeing all the torture over and over again”

“Why didn’t you take the Sleeping Potion?” asked Snape.

“I don’t want to be dependent on it,” replied Harry.

“I made the potion special to keep you from getting addicted to it. That is one of the problems with Dreamless Sleep,” said Snape.

“I don’t want to rely on it to keep the nightmares away,” said Harry. Very mature of him, but he shouldn’t be subjecting himself to the mental torment. Harry suddenly looked up and stared him straight in the eyes. It was one of the few times he’d ever had direct eye contact with Harry, and he was surprised at the determination in Harry’s bright green eyes.

“I want you to know everything,” said Harry. “I want to show you everything.”

Snape understood what he meant and said, “I will owl Dumbledore about using his pensieve right now.” True to his word, he went straight to his study and quickly wrote out his request. He then sent the letter off with his owl and returned to Harry’s room. He found him up and dressed with a pile of parchment on the desk before him. He was carefully sorting it into piles. Harry picked up a stack of parchment and books. He turned around and held out the stack to Snape.

“I’m done with these. Can you send them back?”

Snape took the work and said, “I’ll give them to Dumbledore when he comes with the pensieve. Harry turned back to the desk and began to scratch something out on a piece of parchment. Snape looked down at the parchment he held and was pleased to see that the essay he’d asked Dumbledore to assign on Human Transfiguration Potions was on top.

Later that day, Dumbledore arrived with the pensieve. He couldn’t stay long; just told Snape to tell Harry hello from him. When he saw Dumbledore, he was reminded of the two packets of Muggle candy that were currently lying on his desk. He decided to give them to Harry after he viewed Harry’s memories.

The pensieve would have to wait until morning, however, as he was sure that Harry would be completely immersed in his work. He finally went to bed around ten o’ clock and he was sure that Harry had done the same by the absence of light from his room down the hallway.

After breakfast the next morning, Snape put the Skittles and a vial of Calming Draught in his pocket and carried the pensieve out to the living room, where Harry was seated on a squashy armchair, twirling his wand between his fingers. Snape set the pensieve down on a low table in front of Harry.

“You need to put your wand to your temple and think about the memory you want to extract. Then pull your wand away and drop it into the pensieve,” said Snape. Harry nodded and did as he was told. About fifteen minutes later, Harry put his wand down.

“I’m done,” he whispered without the confidence he’d had earlier.

“Do you want to come with me?” asked Snape. Harry fervently shook his head no. He put his wand in the silvery substance and felt a falling sensation as he was pulled into the pensieve. He landed in a room filled with rows and rows of books. Flourish and Blotts….

When he finally exited the pensieve what seemed like hours later, he felt sick and disgusted at what those sick bastards had done to his son. Harry stared at him through long locks of jet-black hair. The Glamour was gone. A perfect blend of him and Lily stared back at him, making him all the more enraged at what had happened to Harry.

Surprisingly, the first words out of his mouth were, “The Glamour Charm’s gone.”

“I know. It went away a couple of hours ago,” said Harry softly. So he had been in there at least two hours. Hours alone, with sadistic Death Eaters. He knew they were vicious, he had been one of them, but this went far beyond his imagination of what could have happened.

“Harry, I need to put your memories back so we can talk about this, okay?” said Snape. Harry nodded reluctantly and Snape pointed his wand at the pensieve.

“Rendre memoire.” Silvery strands floated up one by one and returned to Harry’s mind. Harry let out a choked sob as the last memory was returned. Snape sat down in the chair opposite Harry’s. Their discussion went on for several hours and Harry returned to his schoolwork seeing much more calmer than he had been.

The following Sunday Harry returned to Gryffindor Tower with the Glamour restored by Dumbledore when he had come to retrieve his pensieve seeing much more emotionally healed than he had been. He was all caught up on his work and had been warned that he may receive a detention for seemingly no reason at all. Snape wanted to be able to check up on Harry and make sure he was doing all right.

Furthermore, he wanted Harry to be stocked with Sleeping Potion, should he feel the need to use it. They had reached an understanding those last few days that Harry wanted to work through his nightmares without just getting rid of them using a potion. The “detentions” were a way to do that.

“Bye Severus,” said Harry as he touched the Portkey which would transport him to an empty classroom near Gryffindor Tower.

“I’ll see you later, Harry,” said Snape as Harry disappeared from his quarters.

~Harry’s POV~

Harry arrived in a dark, dusty classroom. He stuck the Portkey in his pocket and headed to the Tower before realizing that he didn’t know the password. Luckily, he ran into Ginny on the way.

“Harry! Where have you been?” asked Ginny.

“I can’t tell you right now, but what’s the password?” said Harry.

“Oh, okay. The password is Weasleys Wizard Wheezes,” said Ginny. Harry thanked her and headed for the Tower. Once inside, he spotted Ron and Hermione seated on a couch near the fire. Harry sat down across from them and said, “Hi.” Hermione looked up and screamed in shock. Ron just said there, shocked into silence.

“Oh sorry. Where have you been Harry?” asked Hermione. Harry decided to tell a half-truth.

“The same place I was during the summer.” Well, technically it was the truth. He had been in Snape’s house. Just not the real house.

“What were you doing there?” asked Hermione. Ooh, dangerous question.

“Umm…nothing,” said Harry.

“Harry, you don’t just disappear for three weeks to do nothing,” said Hermione.

“I did schoolwork,” said Harry truthfully. Before Hermione could ask him another question, Ginny came up to them with a sheet of parchment. She waved the parchment in Harry’s face.

“Professor McGonagall just gave me this to put on the notice board. Guess what it says!” she said excitedly.

“What?” asked Harry, grateful for the distraction.

“There’s a Hogsmeade trip on Saturday!”

“Really?” asked Ron.

“Yep!” said Ginny happily as she stuck the parchment on the notice board with a sticking charm.

“I wonder why the first one’s so early this year?” asked Hermione.

“Who care?” asked Ron. “I need to refill my Chocolate Frog supply.” Harry didn’t know whether he’d go or not; he had just gotten back to the Tower.

The following Saturday found Harry walking down to the Entrance Hall with Ron and Hermione, getting ready to walk down to Hogsmeade.

“I’ll see you later,” said Harry as he separated himself from his friends. He wanted to get some candy to refill his supply.

Once in Honeydukes, he was immediately attracted by a display that proclaimed, Exotic Sweets from the Muggle World. Harry found all kinds of strange Muggle sweets in the display. He grinned evilly as he saw Warheads.

Severus had given him Skittles from Dumbleodre and had proclaimed them too sour to be eaten. A few charms and he was sure to be able to trick Severus into eating them. They were much more sour than Skittles. He grabbed a few packs and some other sweets and paid for them, then wandered around Hogsmeade on his own.

He was nearing the Shrieking Shack where a few third-years were staring with a mixture of terror and excitement on their faces, when he spotted his father walking through a cluster of trees, staring intently at the ground. Had he lost something? Or more likely, was he searching for some potion ingredient?

Harry was about to call out to him when a dark shadow moving in the trees behind Severus caught his attention. Harry hid behind a tree and peeked around it. Severus was still watching the ground, completely ignorant of the cloaked figure standing not twenty meters away.

It was a Death Eater, but which one? The Death Eater shifted slightly and Harry saw the tips of white-blonde hair spilling out from under the Death Eater’s mask. Harry’s eyes widened and he felt slightly sick. Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius raised his wand and Harry knew exactly what he was planning on doing. Harry wasn’t about to let him kill his father. Harry heard the softly uttered words, the beginnings of green light begin to burst from the wand. Harry didn’t stop to think, just tore through the trees and shoved his father, who had turned slightly, to the ground. He turned back to Lucius and saw with horror that the green light was headed towards him.

Time seemed to slow down as a sound like a train roared and the green light came ever closer to him. He was unable to move, his feet frozen to the ground in sheer terror. Harry stared at Death, not blinking. The green light enveloped his body and Harry Potter knew no more.

~Snape’s POV~

Snape was intently searching the ground in a cluster of trees for the bright pink and purple flowers of the Passiflora plant when he heard leaves crunching behind him. He turned his head just in time to see someone run into him and knock him to the ground. He sat up and saw with horror that Harry was standing in front of him and a jet of green light was heading towards them.

He reached out to grab Harry’s legs and pull him down just as the green light encircled Harry and he fell to the ground. He looked over to where the curse had come from and saw a horrified-looking Lucius Malfoy. Snape glared fiercely at him and pulled out his wand. Lucius smirked slightly and Disapparated with a loud crack.

Snape growled under his breath and turned his attention to his motionless son. That Avada Kedavra had been meant for him, not Harry. Avada Kedavra, he thought with horror. Avada Kedavra. Merlin, no, he thought as he knelt beside Harry and frantically felt for Harry’s pulse.

Snape gasped as he realized that Harry was still alive. In reality, he should be dead. But he wasn’t, thought Snape. He had to get Harry back to Hogwarts. There could be more Death Eaters lurking in the shadows. As he picked up Harry, he heard leaves crunching behind him. He shifted Harry slightly and pulled out his wand again to protect them if necessary.

It turned out he didn’t need to. The green light had attracted students. In fact, they were Gryffindor students. Of course, they would come and investigate.

“Miss Grange, Mr. Weasley, I need you two to go and inform he Headmaster that a Death Eater had just Disapparated from Hogsmeade and that there may be more.” They all looked shocked for a moment, then Ron and Hermione ran off towards Hogwarts.

“The rest of you, go back to Hogsmeade or Hogwarts,” hissed Snape. The others took off back to the village. Snape walked back to Hogwarts, worry for Harry looming over him like a storm cloud about to burst into rain. Would Harry beat the odds again? Or would this be the last time he cheated Death?

Snape began to walk faster. He didn’t care about maintaining his aura of evilness. It didn’t matter now that he had been seen with Harry in his arms. Several students he passed stopped and stared at him and Harry. It did not bother him, though. They could think what they liked.

The important thing was the boy in his arms and his tenuous hold on life. Harry could not die, he just couldn’t. Snape blinked back tears at the thought of Harry dying. He had to keep at least some form of composure in front of the students.

He pushed the doors of the hospital wing open and yelled for Madam Pomfrey as he set Harry on a bed. She came out of her office and said, “What Severus?” He pointed numbly at the still form of his son.

“What happened to him?” asked Madam Pomfrey as she began to look him over. Snape could barely bring himself to say the words aloud.

“Avada Kedavra,” he said as softly as possible. Madam Pomfrey’s eyes widened and she set about taking care of him. There were no external marks to show that Harry had been hit with Avada Kedavra, at least until Madam Pomfrey removed his Muggle sweatshirt and they could see the true extent of the curse’s damage.

Madam Pomfrey gasped and Snape found he had to grip the edge of the bed behind him for support. Harry’s arms were covered in bluish-black bruises and had almost gray appearance where the bruises were not marring his skin. He gingerly touched one of the bruises and Harry weakly tried to pull his arm away.

Madam Pomfrey whispered a spell to remove Harry’s shirt and they were both shocked at the sight of a large bruise shaped like a storm cloud in the center of Harry’s chest. All the others appeared to be surrounding it, like some grotesque painting. The bruises got smaller and lighter the farther they were away and Snape noticed very pale bruises marring Harry’s face.

“Merlin, Harry,” whispered Snape as he stared at his son’s battered body. He was going to kill Lucius. That is, if the Dark Lord didn’t get to him first. He was interrupted from his murderous thoughts by the doors to the hospital wing banging open and Ron and Hermione running in.

“What happened to Harry?” demanded Hermione.

“That is none of your concern. Now get out of here,” said Snape icily.

“It is too. He’s our friend,” protested Hermione.

“Hermione, come on. We can visit Harry when he’s not here,” said Ron in a loud whisper that Snape was sure he was supposed to hear. Ron grabbed Hermoine’s arm and pulled her out of the room. The doors shut behind them and Snape turned back to his son. Madam Pomfrey was now busily using her wand to spread a blue cream on the bruises.

When she finished, she spelled a pajama shirt onto Harry and said, “He could wake anywhere between a couple of hours and a couple of days. He should get as much rest as possible; those bruises will hurt a lot.” She then went back to her office. Snape pulled a chair over and sat down to watch Harry sleep.

Several hours later, his eyelids began to droop and he fought to keep his eyes open, but exhaustion prevailed and he fell asleep with his head on Harry’s bed. He was awoken some time later by whispers and the sound in the otherwise silent wing. He kept his head down and his eyes closed, feigning sleep.

“Come on Hermione. They’re both asleep. We won’t get caught.”

“Ron, he could wake up at any minute.”

“I doubt that. We’re perfectly safe.” The footsteps neared and Hermione gasped.

“Ron, is there something different about Harry?”

“Bloody hell, what happened to him?”

There were several moments of silence and then Hermione whispered, “Merlin, Harry looks like him.”

“I knew it! This is what he’s been hiding all along!” said Ron. Snape knew it was time to “wake up.”

He raised his head and said, “So now you know our secret. Now go back to bed before I take points off a certain two Gryffindors for being out after hours.” Ron and Hermione quickly exited the hospital wing, leaving Snape along in the hospital wing with his son. He lit his wand and passed it over Harry’s face.

The curse must have obliterated the Glamour Charm. He would have to get Dumbledore to re-apply it before Harry could have visitors. But now, he needed some rest in a proper bed.

Before leaving, he briefly rested his hand on Harry’s head, wishing that Harry didn’t have to go through so much pain. He then returned to his quarters for the rest of the night.

The next morning, he was back in the hospital wing with several potions he thought might help Harry’s bruises heal faster. When he applied them to Harry’s body, the boy didn’t do so much as twitch. The only sign of life in him was the slow rise and fall of his chest.

Several hours later, Harry moaned softly and Snape was out of his chair and standing over Harry in an instant. Harry opened his eyes slowly and stared up at Snape.

The first words out his mouth were, “I’m not dead.”

“Yes, you are most definitely alive, but we have no idea how much that Avada Kedavra affected you.” Snape felt relief wash over his body. Harry was finally awake.

“Well, it hurts like hell. How’s that?” said Harry.

“I’ll have Madam Pomfrey give you a pain reducer,” said Snape and turned to go to the Medi-witch’s office.

“No, stay here, please. I haven’t gotten to talk to you all week, except for class and you know how that is,” protested Harry.

“All right.” Snape pulled his chair closer to Harry’s bed and sat in it.

“So what do you want to talk about?”

“I don’t know. I just want--” He bit his lip and closed his eyes, presumably in pain.

“Harry, you are being ridiculous. I will speak to you once you are no longer in pain.” With that said, he fetched a vial of Pain Reliever from Madam Pomfrey and gave it to Harry, who drank it without complaint.

Harry opened his eyes once more and said, “It feels like some potion’s melting me from the inside out.”

“It’s probably the curse,” said Snape.

“But this is different from last time. I only had a cut from it before, now I don’t have any marks,” said Harry.

“You do have marks from this time. I believe they go with your scar quite nicely,” said Snape almost jokingly as he rolled up the sleeve of one of Harry’s arms. Harry’s eyes widened as he reached out to gingerly touch the marks on his arm.

“So that’s what hurts so much,” said Harry quietly. “They will go away, won’t they?”

“I presume so,” said Snape, though he had no idea if they would or not. Just them Madam Pomfrey came over and shooed him out of the way so she could examine Harry. She made sounds of disapproval while waving her wand over his body, then retrieved several potions from her office.

She watched as Harry drank them and said, “You may leave tonight if you have healed satisfactorily Mr. Potter.” She headed back to her office, leaving Harry and Snape alone.

“I need to get Dumbledore to re-apply the Glamour. Will you be all right by yourself?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” said Harry. Snape left the hospital wing and headed for Dumbledore’s office.

~Harry’s POV~

Harry gingerly sat up in bed, feeling better after taking the potions. Soon after, though, he became curiously tired. What all had been in those potions? He wondered as his eyes slipped closed.

~Snape’s POV~

Snape led Dumbledore into the hospital wing and found Harry asleep. Just as well. He didn’t want Harry knowing that Ron and Hermione had glimpsed him with Glamour partially off. Hopefully the Gryffindors hadn’t managed what their secret was, or at least would hold off guessing until Harry was ready to tell everyone.

Dumbledore raised his wand and whispered, “Cacher apparence vrai.” White light enveloped Harry’s body, slowly disappearing and transforming him into the boy he’d looked like for fifteen years. Dumbledore excused himself and left Snape standing beside his son’s bed. He sat down in the chair he had vacated earlier to watch over Harry.

Around mid-afternoon, Harry woke up and was immediately given another round of potions by Madam Pomfrey. Soon after, she declared him fit to leave and sent him off with a bottle of lotion for the bruises.

~Harry’s POV~

Harry left the hospital wing with a bottle of lotion for the bruises which he had found were not only on his arms, but covering a large portion of his upper body. He was glad to be free of the overly-motherly Med-Witch, though his body still ached from the Avada Kedavra curse.

He entered the Common Room to find Ron and Hermione sitting on a couch. Hermione had a strange look on her face, which was quickly covered up with a large smile.

“We didn’t expect you back so soon!” she said.

“Madam Pomfrey said I could leave,” said Harry as he crossed the room to where they were seated.

“Professor Snape was acting really strange,” remarked Ron.

“Yeah. He spent all night in the hospital wing with you,” said Hermione.

“What’s up with you two?” asked Ron. Uh-oh, they were stepping into dangerous territory.

“A lot of things happened this summer. I just can’t tell you two right now,” said Harry, hoping they would accept that.

“But Harry,” said Hermione. “We snuck into the hospital wing last night and you looked different. Almost like a different person.”

“Hermione, I’m still the same person, but you have to understand that I can’t tell you everything right now,” said Harry.

“But--”

“Hermione, just drop it,” said Harry. He turned away from them and went up to the dormitory. He lay down on his bed and fell asleep instantly.

* “Not only have you returned late to me, you also bring me the displeasing news that you failed to kill Snape!” roared Voldemort.

“I’m sorry, My Lord, but the Potter brat, he ran in front of the curse--”

“What!” yelled Voldemort.

“Please forgive me, My Lord,” pleaded Lucius, his head pressed nearly to the floor.

“Crucio,” hissed Voldemort. As Lucius lay on the ground twitching and screaming, Voldemort stood up and walked around his circle of followers.

“How many times have I told you all that Harry Potter is mine? Only I shall receive the pleasure of killing him. Finite Incantatem. You should have diverted the spell, then captured the boy and brought him to me. Next time I expect you to follow my orders. Understood?” He kicked Lucius viciously.

“Yes, My Lord,” choked out Lucius.

“Very good. Now return to your place.” Lucius crawled backwards until he reached the circle, then stood up shakily, his long blonde hair a mess.

“I have changed my mind about my plans. I want them both alive. The blood traitor and the Mudblood. Understood?” A low murmur of assent was heard.

“Good. I do not wish to see any more screw-ups,” said Voldemort. *

Harry woke up to an intense pain in his chest and his scar. Was he connected to Lucius now too? Merlin, he hoped not. Having a connection with one evil Dark Wizard was quite enough for Harry.

Harry sat up and saw that the room was beginning to grow dark and there was no one else there with him. He got out of bed and changed into pajamas, then drank one of his sleeping potions and went back to sleep.

The next morning he was awoken by Ron yelling his name through the curtains that surrounded his bed.

“I’m up,” he said as he pushed the curtains aside. He got dressed and followed Ron downstairs to meet Hermione in the Common Room.

They went down to breakfast, then to their first class of the day. In the afternoon, Harry had Potions class. He was worried about how his father would act. Ron and Hermione were already suspicious enough. However, he needn’t have worried. Snape left him alone the entire time, except to assign a “detention” for him now paying enough attention in class.

Once they were well away from the dungeons, Hermione burst out indignantly, “Is he trying to torture you on purpose? You were paying attention and he knows it! He doesn’t need to be mean to you just because we---never mind. It’s just not fair!” Hmm…what had she been going to say.

“Relax, Hermione. Maybe he wants to check and see if I’m caught up,” said Harry. He knew this was a downright stupid thing to say, as he’d spent the last few weeks with Snape, but Hermione seemed to buy it.

“Maybe…” she said thoughtfully. Before his “detention,” Harry remembered the Warheads he had gotten> he charmed the package to look like innocent Muggle sweets before heading down to Snape’s office. When Harry arrive, Snape quickly shut the door and warded his office.

“Sit down Harry,” said Snape.

They both sat down and Harry said, “I brought you something.” He handed Snape the Warheads, which were now called, Sugarheads.

“What are they?” asked Snape.

“I don’t know. Some Muggle candy. They’re supposed to be really sweet,” said Harry. Snape looked suspiciously at him and Harry did his best to look innocent. Snape ripped open one of the packs and put a round yellow candy in his mouth. He instantly grimaced and spit the candy out.

“What was that?” Harry grinned at him.

“Didn’t you like it?” he asked innocently. “I think they’re really good.” He pulled out one that he had soaked earlier in water and popped it in his mouth. Snape looked suspiciously at him, then thrust one of the packs Harry’s way.

“Eat this one,” said Snape.

“No, I’d rather not,” said Harry.

“No, really. I insist,” said Snape.

------Mistress Wolf’s part------

“No, that’s okay,” said Harry. “I’m--”

But he stopped mid-sentence and shut his eyes in pain. He reached up and clutched his head, his scar burning in pain. His breath started to come in ragged gasps; his chest felt constricted as if someone was squeezing his lungs too tight, preventing him from breathing. Dimly, beyond the pain of his head, he could see the face of Voldemort, red eyes blazing with hatred.

“Potter,” he hissed.

Harry struggled for air and then screamed, yelling as loud as he could, “GET OUT OF MY HEAD!” Pain, absolute agony that made a few minutes ago feel like a tickling charm, exploded through his head. He gasped, felt strong arms engulf him, and then darkness overtook his mind.

------end Mistress Wolf’s part------

He woke up in a soft bed that felt good to his head, which was still throbbing with pain. Voldemort was gone now, he was sure of that. He rubbed his head slightly and sat up. He was in his room in Snape’s quarters.

~Snape’s POV~

“No, really. I insist,” said Snape, positive now that Harry had done something to the candy.

“No, that’s okay,” said Harry. “I’m--” He stopped talking and clutched his scar with both hands. Oh shit, Voldemort had gotten in his head.

“Fight him, Harry,” said Snape urgently. Harry began screaming loudly. Horrible, gut-wrenching screams of agony. Snape reached forward and wrapped his arms around Harry to keep him from falling out of his chair. Harry gasped and went limp in his arms. He picked up Harry the rest of the way and went over to a wall that was covered in shelves with potion ingredients.

He moved a jar of leeches to the left, revealing a concealed door. He opened the door and walked into the living room of his quarters with Harry. He carefully tucked him in and headed to his potions lab to get something for the headache Harry was sure to have after being possessed by the Dark Lord.

As he looked through the shelves in the back of the room, his fingers brushed a vial of bright pink potion. He picked up the potion and studied it, remembering…..

~ He had been stirring the Sleeping Potion he was making for Harry when he looked up and saw Harry staring at the back wall of his lab. As he watched Harry shuddered slightly, then fell to the ground, shaking slightly. ~

Harry had been terrified when he’d woken up. Damn Lucius, he thought angrily. Torturing a sixteen-year-old boy because he thought it was fun? He vowed to make Lucius pay. One way or another, he would get revenge on the man that had tormented his son so much.

For now though, he Vanished the contents of the vial, wishing he could do the same to the weeks of hell Harry had been put through. He found the potion he was seeking and returned to Harry’s room to find him sitting up in bed and rubbing his head.

He handed Harry the potion, who drank it gratefully. Harry closed his eyes and leaned against the pillows. He knew how Harry felt right now. Being possessed was notoriously draining, but Harry could not fall asleep here. His friends would be even more suspicious if he didn’t come back all night.

“Harry, you can’t sty here,” said Snape.

“But I’m tired,” protested Harry.

“It’ll look suspicious if you don’t return to the Tower,” said Snape.

“All right. I’m up,” grumbled Harry, rubbing his hands over his eyes and sitting up again.

“I will have to speak to the Headmaster about this latest possession by the Dark Lord. I believe it may be prudent for us to resume Occlumency lessons as soon as possible,” said Snape.

“Sure,” said Harry as he climbed out of bed.

*******

“Are you sure you’ll be all right walking up on your own?” asked Snape.

“I’ll be fine. I have my mirror,” said Harry as he walked out of Snape’s office. He was walking along the fourth floor when a certain blonde Slytherin walked up to him, Crabbe and Goyle behind him.

“Well if it isn’t baby Potter himself,” drawled Malfoy. “Haven’t managed to get yourself killed yet, have you? What a disappointment. Father said you wouldn’t last a month back at school.” Harry caught the hidden meaning in those words.

“Too bad for you, I’m still alive. Hmm…I wonder what you’d do if you knew how much a of a sadistic bastard your father really is,” mocked Harry.

“How dare you insult my father,” said Malfoy and reached into his robes.

“Fighting in the corridors? I do believe I shall have to take points for this,” drawled a familiar voice. He half-turned to see his father staring at them.

“Five points from Slytherin, Mr. Malfoy. Go back to your Common Room. As for you, Mr. Potter, I believe a chat with your Head of House is in order,” said Snape.

What? He hadn’t even done anything wrong. Snape grabbed Harry’s shoulder and began pulling him along.

“I said back to your Common Room!” barked Snape. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle fled downstairs. Harry was led a ways down the corridor, then Snape halted suddenly.

“I’ve just remembered I have a meeting with the Headmaster. Give this to Professor McGonagall, Mr. Potter. I shall know if you have not complied,” said Snape, pressing some parchment into his hands and hurrying off down the corridor.

Harry saw that he had been given an envelope bearing Professor McGonagall’s name, but attached to the back was a folded sheet of parchment. He delivered the envelope to Professor McGonagall, who read it, then quickly burned it.

“Allow me to escort you back to the Tower,” said McGonagall.

Once they were out of her office, she said, “I shall personally see you back to your Common Room to ensure that you do not provoke any more fights, Mr. Potter.” Hmm…that note must have told McGonagall to escort him back. Once in the safety of the Tower, Harry went straight to be after taking his potion.

*******

Over the next couple of days, his bruises faded completely, all except the strange-cloud-shaped one, which had faded to a light-gray patch on his chest. It probably wouldn’t go away, Snape told him after their first Occlumency lesson.

He had been marked again, by yet another Dark Curse. Marks like those never faded. At least the cloud wasn’t a connection to Lucius like his scar was to Voldemort. He would never be able to stand that.

*******

Several weeks later, he noticed that he was being watched. He suspected it was his father’s doing, though Snape would never admit it. It was probably because of Malfoy. Harry had had several more encounters with the ferret, and had even been threatened during the last one. Malfoy’s words rang in his ears as he walked down for another “detention” with Ron and Hermione.

“I’m going to get you Potter. One of these days, someone’s going to slip up, and you’ll be right where I want you. Father will be so please with me for bringing you back to him.”

Luckily for Malfoy, Lupin had stepped in that time before Harry had had a chance to do anything too damaging to the Slytherin. That was the reason for this “detention.” Harry thought Snape rather enjoyed coming up with excuses to give Harry detention, though it certainly hadn’t allayed Ron and Hermione’s suspicions. They were acting even stranger around him and he suspected they were beginning to guess about Snape being his father. He was having trouble concocting lies to quell their suspicions. Hmm…maybe Snape would have a few ideas for him.

He knocked on the door and heard, “Come in, Mr. Potter,” come from within. He slipped inside and waved off Ron and Hermione. They would be back for him in a couple of hours. In the meantime, he had work to do.

Harry entered Snape’s office to find Dumbledore seated across from Snape.

When they saw Harry, Dumbledore said, “I believe it is time to re-new the Glamour Charm.”

“Okay,” said Harry. Dumbledore stood and pulled out his wand.

“Cacher apparence vrai,” said Dumbledore. Harry felt the usual strange sensation of the transformation, but this time he was not tired.

“I will leave you two to your lesson now,” said Dumbledore. He left the two of them alone in the office and they began their lesson.

******

Harry fell into his chair with a sigh.

“I’m never going to get it right,” he grumbled.

“Yes, you will. Maybe you just need another image. What are you using?” said Snape.

“Quidditch,” said Harry.

“That may be your problem. There’s too many things to catch your attention. Why don’t you try focusing on one aspect?” suggested Snape.

“Okay,” agreed Harry. Chasing the Snitch. That should be focused enough. He stood back up and pulled out his wand.

“Let’s try again,” said Harry. Snape stood up also.

“Leglimens,” he said quietly. Memories flooded his mind and he did his best to ignore them. He had to focus on catching the Snitch. Wind rushing through his hair as he flew towards the Snitch….The presence left his mind and he discovered that he was still standing.

Snape smiled and said, “Well done. You’ll need to practice more. I don’t want to be able to get in at all.” He raised his wand again and said, “Leglimens.” Harry quickly cleared everything from his thoughts except Quidditch.

The feel of the vibrating wood beneath his hands. The wings of the Snitch beating the air. The feel of the cold Snitch between his fingers….Harry opened his eyes and to his delight, found himself on his feet once more.

“See? And you thought you would never get it.”

“I’ve got it now,” said Harry with a smile on his face as he sat back down and put his wand away.

Snape sat down too and said, “I believe we can cut the lessons down to once a week.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Harry just as he heard knocking on the door.

“It’s Ron and Hermione,” said Snape. “You can go back to your Common Room now.”

“Bye Severus,” said Harry before he opened the door. Ron and Hermione were indeed waiting there. A few floors up from the dungeons, Harry began to feel tired. At first he believed it to be the Glamour beginning to interact with his magic, but once his scar began burning, he knew what the source was.

“No, he gasped as his knees hit the stone floor. His friends were immediately by his side.

“Get Snape,” he said as the pain in his head increased. He looked up into Hermione’s concerned eyes and his whole world turned red.

After several minutes of heart-stopping pain, Harry felt strong hands wrap around his waist. He felt the fingers of his right hand being squeezed tightly.

“Come on Harry. Focus on the Snitch,” Snape’s voice instructed from behind him. Harry fought as hard as he could against Voldemort. The Snitch, he was racing for the Snitch. He squeezed Snape’s fingers, but in his mind, they were no longer fingers. They had become the smooth wood of his Firebolt, the handle quivering in his grip.

“Harry, you can do it.” He had to. He couldn’t let Voldemort win. He couldn’t let Voldemort get to all his carefully-guarded secrets. The Snitch. The Golden, glimmering Snitch. He had to chase it. He couldn’t think about Voldemort. His grip tightened on his broom as he chased the Snitch.

“That’s it, Harry. Don’t let him get to you.” Harry fought even harder against the presence that was making his scar burn painfully. The comforting grip on his hand was suddenly gone, and he was leaned against a cold stone wall.

“Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, take him to the hospital wing,” said Snape. But Harry didn’t want them to. He wanted his father to take him there….

He woke up in the hospital wing some time later and found he was all alone. Well, not really. As soon as she noticed he was awake, Madam Pomfrey was handing him potion after potion. After drinking a third one that tasted like mud, she said he was free to go. Harry immediately hopped off the bed and left the hospital wing, where he ran straight into Snape.

“Haven’t you anything better than create reasons to go back to the hospital wing?” drawled Snape.

“No, sir,” said Harry.

“No matter, the Headmaster has deemed it necessary for you to have an escort back to your Common Room.” That might actually be true. He didn’t really want Voldemort attacking his mind again. It hurt like hell. Before he entered the Tower, Snape bent down to pick a crumpled piece of parchment off the ground.

“I do believe this belongs to you,” said Snape as he passed the parchment to Harry. He hadn’t dropped anything…oh, Snape was sending a note to him. It couldn’t look suspicious. He took the parchment and entered the Tower. Once safely behind his bed curtains, Harry uncrumpled the parchment.

Harry,

I want you to be careful. Take the Sleeping Potion every night. You are most vulnerable when you’re sleeping, but the potion should block the Dark Lord. We shall have to have more lessons. I have talked to the Headmaster, who will be erecting more wards around the school for your protection. In the meantime, take your potion and practice.

S.S.

For once, Harry was actually going to listen and take his potion. He preferred to go without it, but if the alternative was Voldemort getting in his head….well, he’d rather become dependent on the potion.

He folded the note up into a tiny square, then put it in his trunk and took out a vial of the potion. He changed into pajamas and drank the potion. He was asleep before anyone came into the dormitory.

-----Mistress Wolf’s part-----

“Potter,” hissed the familiar evil voice. “You cannot escape me.”

Voldemort? Here? But…how was that possible. He had taken the potion! The potion was supposed to block Voldemort out!

“Now, now,” sneered Voldemort, his ugly “face” coming into focus. “You didn’t honestly think that I cold be stopped by a mere potion, did you, Potter” He laughed, a high-pitched cackle that made Harry’s scar tingle.

“Get out of my head, Voldemort!” Harry yelled in anger, desperately trying to throw up his mental walls--to put his father’s lessons to use, but…he couldn’t.

“You thought to escape me, Potter, but you were gravely mistaken. No one can escape Lord Voldemort, the greatest wizard in the world!”

“’YOU’RE NOT THE GREATEST WIZARD IN THE WORLD! ALBUS DUMBLEDORE IS THE GREATEST WIZARD IN THE WORLD!” Harry screamed, rage building inside of him.

“Yes,” said Voldemort, nodding. “Yes, he is the greatest, isn’t he? That’s why he keeps everything from you, isn’t it? That’s why your godfather’s dead. Why only you and I can choose the outcome of the universe.” Harry got a horrified look on his face as those words sunk in.

“Yes,” admitted Voldemort, pleasure dripping like venom from his words. “I know all about the prophecy. THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES….BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFIED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…AND THE DARK LORD WILL MARK HIM AS HIS EQUAL, BUT HE WILL HAVE POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NOT…AND EITHER MUST DIE AT THE HAND OF THE OTHER FOR NEITHER CAN LIVE WHILE THE OTHER SURVIVES….THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD WILL BE BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…. That fool of a Headmaster you have is very bad at keeping thing hidden from me. I have ways to get what I want, Potter. And you can be sure that the death of that old fool will be right after the death of The-Boy-Who-Lived.” He smiled evilly at Harry and raised his wand.

“You are mine, Potter,” he hissed. “Avada Kedavra!”

Harry screamed, his hands clutching his scar as he tried, futilely, to escape the pain. Distantly, he thought he heard people crying his name, but he couldn’t be sure.

Eventually, the pain began to diminish, and as he felt himself slipping into darkness, he was aware that there were people surrounding him. His eyes flickered open long enough to see Ron, Hermione, and Dumbledore. His eyes slipped closed as it became harder to draw breath.

He felt someone’s gently arms wrapped around him and he heard the voice of his father whisper in his ear, “Harry.” The voice sounded concerned, genuinely worried. His scar was just burning, but that was nothing new. Something warm dripped down his forehead. Was someone pouring water on him?

Suddenly, Harry was wracked with yet another spasm of pain. He thought it had all gone, bit this was worse than the last. He didn’t even have the strength to cry out, though he was sure his head was being split in two.

He gasped, trying to catch breath that wouldn’t come. His lungs didn’t seem to want to work. He reached out and grabbed his father’s hand. He felt his own long hair, knowing the Glamour Charm had worn off, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care if Draco knew--he needed to know his father was close.

“Dad,” he gasped out. It took everything he had just to say that, but he needed him to be there.

“I’m here, Harry,” Snape whispered in reply. “I won’t leave,” he promised. “I’m right here.”

Harry nodded, assured, before exhaustion overrode him and he met the darkness as it turned into light, wondering if he was dying at last.

-----end Mistress Wolf’s part-----

His mum’s face swam into view and he reached out a hand to touch the gleaming red hair that brushed his face.

“Mum.” He wordlessly mouthed the word that he had longed to say for so long. A slim hand closed over his own.

“No, Harry. You can’t stay here,” she whispered. “Go to sleep now. Everything will be all right.” Harry obediently shut his eyes as the strains of a song from a long-lost memory stirred his soul.

~Snape’s POV~

As Snape held Harry, his choking gasps for air died and his body went still. Snape could swear that his heart stopped when he realized that Harry was dead.

“No,” he whispered and clutched Harry’s body closer to him.

“No, no, no,” he murmured, his head shaking back and forth to emphasize his words. Two wet teardrops slid their way down his face, followed by two more until he realized he was making Harry’s pajamas damp. But he couldn't stop the tears. He was crying for the son that had been hidden from him for so long, mourning the loss of the time he should have had with Harry. He’d never get a chance to tell Harry how much he cared for him, how much he….loved him.

“Merlin, no, Harry,” he whispered. “Don’t leave me.” But it was too late. He couldn’t save Harry. You couldn’t bring back the dead.

He hugged Harry closer and whispered in his ear, “I love you, Harry.” He could swear he heard the slightest sounds of breathing coming from Harry. No, he was imagining things. Harry was gone forever. He lowered Harry to the bed and backed away. Harry couldn’t be dead, he couldn’t.

He hit the adjoining bed and leaned on it. The hospital wing began to blur and his legs felt as though all the bones had been removed. A hand gripped his upper arm and he was guided into a chair. His fingers were pressed around cool glass.

“Ron, Hermione, you need to leave,” said a quiet voice. The only sign that they had left was the scraping of two chairs and a door being quietly opened and shut.

“Severus, drink this.” He numbly raised the vial to his lips, the scent of it confirming the fact that it was a Calming Draught. He drank it anyways, and stared at the body of his son. But wait….no, he had just imagine Harry’s chest rising up…..and down….and then back up. He scrambled out of the chair and leaned on Harry’s bed. The potion was making him see things.

He heard someone gasp from behind him and then, “It’s not possible!” Snape held his breath…and put his hand in front of Harry’s nose. There. He felt just the faintest puffs of breath against his hand. Snape let out his breath and collapsed back into the chair, mixed emotions coursing through his soul. Relief, worry, fear being the dominant emotions of the hundreds of emotions swirling around in his mind. He could hardly take his eyes off The-Boy-Who-Refused-To-Die.

Madam Pomfrey hurried over, blocking Harry from his sight. When he made to move so he could see Harry again, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around and saw the Headmaster standing there with a grave expression on his face.

“We need to talk, Severus,” he said. Snape didn’t care. He didn’t want to leave Harry.

“I’m not leaving Harry,” he said determinedly.

“I won’t make you, Severus, but perhaps it would be best if we discuss this where others can’t hear. Over there looks good,” said Dumbledore, pointing to the other side of the room. Snape followed him over, glancing backwards at Harry as he did so. Madam Pomfrey was waving her wand over him and muttering to herself.

“Severus, I’m sure you have ascertained the strange circumstances surrounding Harry’s….death.” Snape nodded.

“I believe Voldemort is at work here. Incanting the Killing Curse in a dream in the hopes that it would kill Harry. It did indeed kill him, but for some reason, he is not dead. My belief is that it was deemed unfair for Voldemort to be able to kill Harry so easily. We may be able to get information from Harry once he awakens,” said Dumbledore. If, thought Snape darkly.

“Don’t think such dark thoughts, Severus,” chided Dumbledore. Snape stared at him, shocked that Dumbledore had known what he was thinking.

“He will be fine, being as he was returned from Death. There was a reason for that, other than Voldemort. I need to think on this a while. In the meantime, I want you to keep a close eye on him, Severus,” said Dumbledore. Snape assured him he would and Dumbledore swept out of the room.

Snape sat next to Harry again and grasped one of Harry’s cool hands in his own. He surveyed his son’s body and found that he hadn’t moved at all, save for the steady rise and fall of his chest. Up and down. Up and down….

Much like his emotions these past few months. All of this was so new to him. So strange and abnormal. He scooted closer to the bed. He wanted Harry to be all right so much.

“Harry, please wake up,” he whispered. He rested his elbows on the bed and put his head in his hands. Snape slowly drifted off to sleep. He was awoken by a slight movement from the bed his head was currently resting on. He sat up and saw that Harry had shifted in the bed so he was lying on his side and curled up like a shrimp with one hand pressed to his forehead.

“Harry,” whispered Snape, just loud enough for Harry to hear him if he was awake, but not loud enough to actually wake him up.

Harry’s eyes flickered open and Snape could see his tired green eyes. He wasn’t sleepy. He was tired of the world, tired of life, tired of constantly fighting the Dark Lord. Harry looked away and rubbed at his head.

“It hurts,” he said softly. “It didn’t hurt before….when I saw my mum.” Snape’s breath caught in his throat. Harry had seen Lily?

“What do you mean?” asked Snape.

“It was…like a dream. I saw her and she sang me to sleep. I even touched her hair. It felt so real.” He sighed softly.

“I felt so…free, but then I came back here.” He rubbed at his head again. Snape reached out and grabbed Harry’s hand. He squeezed it lightly and said, “I’m here for you too, Harry. Your mum can only see you at certain times. I, however, am always here.” Harry nodded and bit his lip.

“I shall go and fetch Madam Pomfrey for you,” said Snape. He went over to her office and knocked on the door.

She opened it immediately and asked, “What do you need, Professor?” “Harry’s woken up and his head is bothering him,” said Snape. She opened the door the rest of the way and collected several potions. She then went over to where Harry was now struggling to sit up.

His head was probably going to ache for some time. Mental battles were notoriously draining and painful, especially during unconscious battles. He wondered how the Dark Lord was faring not having England’s best Potions Master there to prepare something for him. Harry drank the potions, and then sat up the rest of the way. Snape sat back down beside him.

“You are going to need more Occlumency lessons,” said Snape.

“Yeah,” said Harry. “I definitely don’t want that happening again. What I don’t understand, though, is why aren’t I dead? I got hit with Avada Kedavra.”

“The Headmaster suspects it has something to do with a fair fight between you two. Hitting you with the Killing Curse in your sleep certainly isn’t fair,” said Snape.

“Like Voldemort’ll ever be fair. Evil people are never fair,” said Harry.

“True,” said Snape. The Dark Lord might try to kill Harry in his mind again, but he would do his damnedest to keep the Dark Lord out of Harry’s head. It was going to be a hell of a fight, but he would not lose his son to the Dark Lord.

“I wish he would just die,” burst Harry. “and all of his followers, too,” he added darkly.

“I don’t want you to dwell on that right now. I want you to concentrate on school and your NEWTs, not planning to kill a Dark Wizard. That can wait until you’re out of school,” said Snape.

“How can I concentrate on school when that arsehole keeps disrupting it?” said Harry.

“We will work on stopping him. I will arrange for more Occlumency lessons once you’re out of here. Perhaps ealier, though, as the Dark Lord may want to try again, while you have been weakened by his first attempt,” said Snape.

“Yeah, he probably will, since he’d so obsessed with killing me and not playing by the rules,” said Harry. He laughed darkly.

“And while he’s at it, he’ll probably come storming though the castle gates.” Hmm…what exactly had Madam Pomfrey given him? Harry was talking rather freely.

“Maybe he’ll blow up the whole castle, get rid of all his enemies in one shot,” said Harry.

“You’re hysterical,” said Snape. “I think you need some rest.”

“No, I don’t,” protested Harry. “and I’m not hysterical. Voldemort coming into the castle is highly likely. He’s been in here, what, two times, kidnapped me from here once, lured--”

Snape cut off his babbling and said, “The castle has been re-spelled to keep him from doing that again. You are safe here.”

“Oh yeah. Real safe, when Voldemort can attack my mind whenever he wants,” grumbled Harry.

“Get some sleep, Harry. We can talk more about this in the morning,” said Snape. Harry shook his head.

“I don’t want to,” said Harry. Snape understood his concern, but Harry needed some rest.

“Would you feel better if I fetched you a Sleeping Draught?” asked Snape.

“He got through the potion you made, so, no,” said Harry. There had to be a way Harry could safely sleep. If a potion didn’t work, then perhaps a Sleeping Charm would keep out the Dark Lord. He hated to have to experiment on his son, but if it was the only way…. He pulled out his wand.

“Dormir,” said Snape. Harry’s eyes slipped closed and he slumped over in the bed. Snape pushed him down and carefully tucked him in. He wanted to stay and keep and eye on Harry, but the Charm would last several hours and he needed to sleep too. He fingered a lock of his son’s hair before exiting the hospital wing.

The next morning he returned to the hospital wing to find that Harry hadn’t had any more visits from the Dark Lord. Thank Merlin. Harry blinked his eyes open just as Snape reached his bedside.

“What did you do to me?” asked Harry.

“Sleeping Charm,” replied Snape.

“Oh,” said Harry. “It worked great. I feel loads better. Can I leave now?”

“You’ll have to ask Madam Pomfrey about that. I also don’t believe you should go walking into your Commong Room, what with your friends thinking you’re dead and all,” said Snape. The look on Harry’s face was priceless.

“They think I’m dead?”

“They were here when you died, so I think it's safe to assume so,” said Snape.

“Well, go tell them I’m not dead,” said Harry.

“The Headmaster will most likely be attending to that this morning,” said Snape.

“Now, we need to discuss more Occlumency lessons. Would you rather the Headmaster make a general announcement about your parentage or would you prefer more detentions?”

“Detentions,” said Harry. “I’d rather just tell my friends first. I assume they saw?” said Harry, tugging at his longer hair.

“Yes, they saw you, but I think they were more concerned about you than with what you looked like at the time,” said Snape. “Dumbledore will be back before you leave here to re-cast the Charm.”

“Okay,” said Harry. “Can you go get Ron and Hermione?”

“I daresay they’ll be here soon, after Dumbledore is though with them,” said Snape. “but I will go collect your friends.” He’d rather spend some more time with Harry, but Harry looked like he’d rather get the talk with his friends over with. Snape stood up.

“I will be back shortly.” He then went to McGonagall’s office to see if the Gryffindors were with here. She was sitting at her desk grading essays when he walked in and she said, “They’re with the Headmaster,” without looking up.

“Thank you,” said Snape. He went to Dumbledore’s office, where the password was now Snickers, and walked up the moving staircase.

Dumbledore said, “Come in,” before he even had a chance to knock and he entered the office and saw Ron and Hermione seated in front of Dumbledore.

“Harry would like for his friends to come to the hospital wing,” said Snape.

“Ah, he wishes to tell them. Very well, then. Off you go,” said Dumbledore. “Severus, I’ll be down when they are done to re-apply the Glamour.” Snape herded the Gryffindors down to the hospital wing, where Harry was lying staring at the ceiling.

“Harry!” squealed Hermione. Harry turned his head and grinned, then pushed himself back up to a sitting position.

The two made their way over to Harry and Snape said, “Harry, I’ll let you three alone, okay?”

“Sure,” said Harry.

~Harry’s POV~

Wow, Snape was going to let him alone to do this. Snape left the hospital wing, leaving Harry alone to talk to his friends. Ron stared after Snape, then turned back to Harry.

“I have something to tell you,” said Harry before Ron had a chance to speak.

“Harry,” said Ron slowly. “Please don’t tell us that you are related in any way to Snape.”

Harry pushed his hair out of his face and said, “I can’t.” Ron looked suspiciously at him.

“What do you mean?” asked Ron.

“Umm…..” said Harry.

“Harry, is Professor Snape your father?” asked Hermione incredulously. Harry nodded.

Silence filled the room. Ron and Hermione were in complete shock. Harry was numb with relief at finally having told them. The door to the hospital wing suddenly opened, disturbing the silence, and admitted Snape. He looked at the silenced teenagers for a moment, then strode over and put his hands on Harry’s shoulders.

“Did you tell them?” asked Snape softly. Harry nodded.

“Umm…sir, he just told us that you’re his father, but how is that possible? I mean, Lily and James were married,” said Hermione.

“One does not have to be married to produce a child,” drawled Snape. Hermione turned pink and looked down. Harry inwardly cringed. Did he have to say something like that? Harry stared desperately at his friends, wanting them to say that they were okay with this, that they didn’t hate him now. But no such chance came.

Dumbledore came in just then and ushered Ron and Hermione out of the hospital wing. Harry fidgeted, wondering what Dumbledore was there for, and felt his father’s grip on his shoulders tighten in comfort.

“Hello Headmaster,” he greeted.

“Hello Harry,” said Dumbledore. “I’ve come to restore the Glamour Charm. It seems to be broken by Voldemort’s attacks on you and probably any major accidents. I am working on an improvement, but it will take some time. For now, though, the usual one shall have to do. Cacher apparence vrai.”

Harry felt the usual strange sensations of changing, and then sleepiness fell over him like a veil. He slumped against his father’s body and barely registered being tucked into bed, let alone falling asleep entirely……

When he awoke again, blinking traces of deep sleep from his mind, he could not recall any dreams he may have had. He found himself alone in the room and heard Madam Pomfrey doing something in her office. He sat up and rubbed absently at his forehead. He winced, feeling flesh that felt like it had been sliced open again. That was strange. Perhaps he’d better go and check it out.

He got unsteadily out of bed and headed to the bathroom. He hadn’t even gotten halfway there when Madam Pomfrey came out of her office and demanded to know what he was doing out of bed.

“I was just going to the bathroom,” said Harry.

“You’re not going anywhere until you’ve taken your potions,” said Madam Pomfrey. She led him back to his bed, where he was forced to drink a number of potions before she deemed him able to walk ten feet to the bathroom by himself. He shut the door firmly behind him and studied his reflection. His face was much paler than usual, and his scar looked like it had been healed recently.

As he rubbed at it again, he remembered something warm dripping down his forehead and thinking it had been water. So his scar had split open. With one last look at his James Potter face in the mirror, he left the bathroom.

Ron and Hermione were waiting next to his bed when he returned to it under the watchful eye of Madam Pomfrey.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in classes?” asked Harry. Or maybe they weren’t. He didn’t even know what day it was.

“Not yet. We’ve got about fifteen minutes. I had to drag Ron away from all the food so we’d have a bit of time to talk before we had to go to classes,” said Hermione.

She came closer to him and said, “Harry, I want you to know that no matter who you’re father is, you’re still you and we love you anyways.” She reached out and hugged him tightly, followed by Ron, leaving his skin prickling uncomfortably.

“Thanks,” said Harry.

“You’re our friend no matter who your parents are, even if it is Snape,” said Ron.

“We didn’t get a chance to last night, since the Headmaster had to put that spell on you,” said Hermione.

“How do you know about that?” asked Harry.

“Well, you look a lot differently than you did yesterday and the Headmaster came to see you and we had to leave. It’s probably a charm.”

“Yeah. It’s a pretty strong one. Only Dumbledore can put it on me,” said Harry. Hermione glanced at her watch.

“It’s time to go. I don’t want to be late for class,” said Hermione. She hugged him again and led Ron out of the hospital wing.

“We’ll see you later,” said Ron. Harry shivered slightly once they were gone and curled up on his side. He wanted to go back to sleep, but he was afraid of Voldemort trying to kill him again.

Occlumency. He had to do Occlumency. That would keep him out. He had done it before. Think of the Snitch. The tiny Golden Snitch. He sighed and rolled over onto his back.

It wasn’t going to work. He had to think of something else to use, something that would hide his thoughts completely. An element. Something he could lose himself in, but not be lost. Like fog, or even better, shadow. Perfect.

He pictured himself in a dark room, getting darker and darker until he was completely hidden. It was pure black, blacker than black. He immersed himself in shadows and fell asleep, secure in the fact that his mind was safe from Voldemort.

Harry lay half-asleep when he heard a voice call his name.

“Go ‘way,” he mumbled as he batted away the hand that was resting on his shoulder. A deep laugh came from somewhere to his left.

“It’s the middle of the afternoon, Harry. Not time for sleeping.”

“So?” mumbled Harry as he rolled over and buried his face in his pillows.

“You have potions to take,” said Snape.

“That’s supposed to make me want to get up?” asked Harry. Already he was more awake than he had been. He suspected the talking was just a ploy to get him up.

He rolled onto his back and said, “All right. I’m up.”

“The rest of the way. You have to take your potions,” said Snape. Harry rolled his eyes and sat up. Snape handed him several potions, all of which he drank reluctantly.

“Okay, all done. Can I leave now?” asked Harry.

“I thought you were tired?” asked Snape.

“I was, until someone thought it would be fun to wake me up,” countered Harry.

“True. You’ll have to ask Madam Pomfrey when she will allow you to leave,” said Snape.

“Okay, can you get her then?” asked Harry. Harry was finally released from the watchful eye of Madam Pomfrey later that day and Harry spent the next few weeks in a whirlwind of class-work, homework, and Quidditch practice. The end of November arrived, and with it, the first Quidditch match against Slytherin.

That morning, Harry got out his Firebolt and poked Ron until he woke up and then went downstairs to the Common Room to wait for him.

“Good morning, Harry,” came the voice of Ginny, who was the new Chaser for the Gryffindor team. She was carrying her new Cleansweep.

“Ready for the match?” asked Harry.

“Of course,” said Ginny as she sat down across from him. Ron came downstairs then, dragging his broom on the stairs behind him.

“Ron!” chastised Ginny. “Pick up your broom!”

“Yes, Mum,” muttered Ron as he shifted his broom to rest against his shoulder. Hermione came downstairs too and the foursome walked down to the Great Hall for breakfast. After they had finished eating, Ron rounded up the Gryffindor team and herded them out to the changing rooms. Once they were all changed and gathered on the boys’ side, Ron began his pep talk.

“This is our first match as a team against a team that has had only a few changes in line-up. I only ask that you do your best to kick Slytherin’s arses!” Short, but good. Ron had summed it all up in a few sentences, unlike the previous captains, especially Wood.

“Let’s get out there and do it then!” said Ron. He grabbed his broom and opened the door to the changing rooms. Harry followed him, then the rest of the team.

They marched out to the center of the pitch and met the Slytherin team, whose captain was Malfoy. Harry’s stomach gave a lurch at the sight of that white-blonde hair, but he shook it off and mounted his broom. When Madam Hooch’s whistle sounded the commencement of the match, Harry rose into the air and above the game, searching for the Snitch.

For some reason, Malfoy kept catching his eye and giving him sly smiles. He was probably planning revenge for the incident on the train. At least now, he was fully in his mind and not under the influence of some strange potion that he didn’t know anything about. But there was no time to think about that; he had to find the Snitch.

He turned towards the Gryffindor goalposts just in time to see Ron make his second save of the game. He watched Ginny streak down the pitch with the Quaffle under her arm for a moment, then caught sight of Malfoy talking to Crabbe--or was it Goyle?--and looking his way.

Malfoy shot him another smile and turned back to the Beater, whichever one of Malfoy’s sycophants he was. Stupid Malfoy. He should be looking for the Snitch, not plotting with an idiot. And speaking of which……

Harry spotted a glimmer of gold across the pitch and darted towards it. He heard Malfoy flying behind him. Harry urged his broom to go faster. Malfoy was gaining on him. Harry neared the Snitch and stretched out his hand to grab it.

His fingers closed around the cool metal and tiny wings beat frantically against his hand. He spun around and held it up for everyone to see. He was greeted by Malfoy’s smiling face.

“What are you smiling about, Malfoy? Your team just lost.”

“So?” countered Malfoy. Harry just shrugged and headed down to the ground. Malfoy dived too, and blocked his way.

“Go away and sulk with the other Junior Death Eaters,” said Harry.

“Don’t presume things, Potter,” drawled Malfoy. He reached out and grabbed the Snitch from Harry.

“Give that back!” yelled Harry.

“No, I don’t believe you’ll be needing it,” said Malfoy and smirked.

“What?” asked Harry at the exact instant he heard his name being yelled from behind him. He turned his head slightly and felt something collide with his skull. Malfoy’s grinning face and the sky wavered in front of Harry’s face and vaguely, he was aware of his hands slipping from his broom and he was falling through the sky……..

~Snape’s POV~

Snape wasn’t sure who he should be rooting for, but he was quite pleased when Harry caught the Snitch. When he made to fly down to his teammates, he was stopped by Draco Malfoy, who looked quite pleased with himself. Malfoy grabbed the Snitch from Harry’s hand just as Snape noticed Vincent Crabbe raise his Beater’s bat to one of the Bludgers.

Snape’s eyes widened as he realized what Crabbe was going to do, and what it would do to Harry. Madam Pomfrey’s dire prediction ran through his mind.

“…But let me warn you, Severus. Any more severe blows to the head could result in brain damage, a coma, or even death….” No, he couldn’t let that happen.

Without thinking, he stood up and yelled, “Harry!” Harry half-turned on his broom the exact instant the Bludger collided with his head. No! He pulled out his wand to halt Harry’s fall to the ground, but Dumbledore had beaten it to him wandlessly. Snape left the stands with Dumbledore, who ordered all students to leave the pitch except Crabbe and Malfoy. Snape left them to Dumbledore’s wrath and knelt by his son, who was, surprisingly, still conscious.

“Harry?” Harry blinked dazed eyes at him and tried to sit up.

“Stay still, Harry,” said Snape. Harry obliged and Snape ran his hand carefully over the back of Harry’s head and was glad that the Bludger hadn’t split Harry’s head open. Harry’s eyes began to slip closed.

“No, Harry. You have to stay awake,” said Snape.

“M’wake,” mumbled Harry.

“Severus?” came Dumbledore’s voice. Snape turned slightly and saw Dumbledore standing behind him. Dumbledore conjured a stretcher and when Snape turned back to Harry, he saw that he had passed out.

“No,” he whispered, afraid that that had been the last time he would talk to his son.

“Calm down, Severus. I’m sure Madam Pomfrey will be able to fix him right up,” said Dumbledore as he levitated Harry onto the stretcher.

“But over the summer…..”

“I know all about that. Harry will be fine, I’m sure,” said Dumbledore. Snape wasn’t so sure of that. He had seen what had happened to Harry with a not-so-serious blow to the head. A Bludger was much more dangerous than a floor.

He walked silently beside Dumbledore to the hospital wing, where Harry was magically transferred to a bed and Madam Pomfrey was summoned. Snape slumped down into a chair while Madam Pomfrey examined Harry. She poked and prodded at him with her wand, frowning slightly.

When she finally turned to speak to them, Snape could see the fear in her eyes. Fear that Harry might not make it, that he would die. He knew the same could be seen in his own eyes.

“Professor Snape, he’s in a coma,” said Madam Pomfrey. She kept talking, but Snape didn’t hear her. He moved to stand by Harry, who scar was more visible than usual against his pale skin. Snape reached out and brushed a lock of black hair over it.

“Severus?” said Dumbledore quietly. Snape turned to look at him, his dark eyes shadowed.

“Perhaps you should get some rest before we talk about this,” said Dumbledore.

“No,” said Snape. He didn’t want to prolong the inevitable. “Tell me now.”

“Perhaps you should sit down first,” suggested Madam Pomfrey.

Do not presume things about my constitution, was the reply on the tip of his tongue, but he knew that Madam Pomfrey would give him one of his own Calming Draughts if she thought he needed one. He kept his mouth shut and sat down. Dumbledore seated himself too and popped a Warhead in his mouth, which irritated Snape.

“We can’t do anything for Harry right now except give him nutrient potions and wait. He could wake up as soon as a few days, or he could never wake up. I can’t even give an estimate of what will happen when he wakes up given the amount of severe head trauma he’s sustained since the beginning of summer. There is a good chance he will be in a vegetative state for the rest of his life,” said Madam Pomfrey.

“Is there anything else we can do?” asked Snape almost pleadingly.

“Talk to him. In the Muggle world, that has been known to help,” said Madam Pomfrey. “I’m going to cast a spell on him to let me know if he shows any signs of returning to consciousness. In the meantime, Headmaster, I believe you had a suggestion?”

“Yes, Poppy. We can move Harry all the way next to your office and I can spell the area around him to look like a wall, but to people who know what’s really there, it will be like Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.” Snape agreed and Harry was moved. After the spelling was complete, Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey each went to their respective offices. Snape situated himself in a chair by Harry’s bed behind the fake wall. He gripped one of Harry’s hands tightly in his own and began to speak.

“Harry, I don’t know if you can hear me or not, but Madam Pomfrey says it will help. So here I am, but I have no idea what to say.” He sat in silence for a moment. He hadn’t thought this would be so hard. It was like he was talking to himself. He wasn’t even sure Harry could hear him. The only sign of life from him was the steady rise and fall of his chest. He hadn’t moved at all since he’d passed out on the Quidditch pitch. He was so deathly still.

“I’m worried about you, Harry. Everyone is, even Dumbledore. If you would just move, do something, just so we know you’re still alive.”

*******

Ron and Hermione came to visit Harry later that day and Snape quietly made his exit. He busied himself making potions for Harry. When he returned to the hospital wing, he gave the potions to Madam Pomfrey and recommenced his vigil.

Several days later, Snape was in the hospital wing after classes to see Harry. He dropped off the latest batch of potions and stepped through the magic barrier that concealed Harry from everyone. He resumed sitting in his usual chair and began to talk.

~Harry’s POV~

Harry lay in the dark fog that had consumed his mind since he’d been hit in the head. He stayed in the dark, not wanting to face the pain that was sure to come. He heard voices--no, one voice--and struggled to get out of the fog. He surfaced enough to hear his father talking about something. He couldn’t tell what, but knew that voice, the one that was nearly always there with him. Exhausted by his struggle, Harry began to dream.

* He was walking through a forest with his father. Birds chattered in the distance and wind brushed though the trees. He turned to look at his father and the scene shifted. The forest changed into a dark corridor with a black door at the end of it. Harry’s heart gave a start as he realized they were in the corridor that led to the Department of Mysteries.

Snape kept walking forward, leading him along with him. Harry followed along reluctantly. The door opened automatically for them, and Snape strode directly across the circular room of doors and pulled open the door. Harry balked at the sight of the Death Chamber, and hesitated, but Snape grabbed his arm and pulled him along with him.

They walked down the stairs and over to the veil. Snape pushed the veil aside to reveal Sirius’ grinning face. But this wasn’t the happy Sirius Harry remembered. This was a feral-looking Sirius. Snape extended a hand to pull Sirius out from behind the veil, but Sirius pushed it away, still grinning madly at Harry.

“You killed me, Harry,” said Sirius.

“N-n-no, I d-didn’t,” said Harry. “It w-w-wasn’t my f-fault!”

“Yes, it was,” said Sirius as his mad smile turned into a glare. “You kill everyone that gets close to you. You may have a father now, but it isn’t going to last. He’s going to die, and it will be your fault too. If he hadn’t rescued you, then there wouldn’t be a warrant out for his death. If it weren’t for you, he would be safe.”

“No, you’re wrong,” said Harry. He backed away, his eyes locked on the two men.

“No, he’s right, Harry. I could have let you die. Now, I’m not safe anywhere,” said Snape.

“No!” yelled Harry.

“Join me,” said Sirius. Harry stared numbly at him.

“Join me beyond the veil, Severus, before he kills you too.”

“No!” yelled Harry as his father walked forward and grabbed Sirius’ hand. Sirius pulled him through and as the black cloth closed behind them, a skeleton fell from the back of the arch. Harry ran around the veil and knelt on the floor.

“No,” he cried, tears streaming down his face. “Don’t leave me.” *

Harry was jolted out the dream and back into the fog, panting slightly and his face wet with tears. He had to get out of here. He had to see if his father was all right. He struggled futilely to escape the fog.

~Snape’s POV~

Snape was startled as he noticed a slight twitch of Harry’s left hand. Seconds later, Madam Pomfrey came through the barrier and over to them.

“He’s moving. That’s a good sign,” she said as she poked her wand at Harry.

“He’s dreaming,” she finally concluded. As she turned away, Harry jerked slightly and several tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes.

“Harry?” said Snape quietly. Harry was motionless once more and did not respond. Snape left when Harry’s friends arrived and set to grading essays in his office. When the arduous task was complete, he threw his quill down with a sigh. Perhaps he could go brew some more potions for Harry.

Just as he went to move the jar to open the door to his private quarters, a knock on his office door resounded through his office. He dropped his hand and went over to the door and opened it. Ron Weasley was standing there, knocking frantically.

“Stop your incessant knocking this instant,” said Snape. Ron dropped his fist and stared at Snape, his freckles standing out even more against his pale face.

“Professor…it’s Harry. He’s screaming and Madam Pomfrey can’t calm him down or wake him up,” said Ron quickly.

“He’s comatose, you dolt,” snapped Snape as closed the door behind him and brushed past Ron. He strode up to the hospital wing, but didn’t hear any sound. The barrier that hid Harry from sight must block all sound too. He passed through the barrier and was immediately greeted by Harry screaming.

~Harry’s POV~

Harry was once again submerged in a nightmare. This time, he followed his father through the veil and emerged into what seemed like the pits of Hell.

Huge, dilapidated buildings surrounded him and there were people everywhere, screaming and crying as they lay or crouch everywhere. Harry tore his eyes away from the horror and chased after his father and Sirius.

“Come back!” he yelled as they rounded a corner. “Please come back!” They ran through countless streets of tortured souls begging for release. Harry turned yet another corner just in time to see Sirius and Severus approach a large, golden arch. They ran though it without glancing back at him.

Harry ran to it and tried to pass through, but he bounced back off and into another building. He got up unsteadily and ran back to the arch. He knelt in front of it, tears streaming down his face.

“Come back, please. I’m sorry,” he begged.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for you to die Sirius. I didn’t, I swear. Come back. Come back….” He sobbed frantically.

“Why would we come back for you?” Sirius’ voice mocked him.

“Why should I let you get me killed?” asked Severus.

“I won’t, I swear,” pleaded Harry.

“Why should we trust you?” asked Severus. “Everyone around you dies.”

With those chilling words, Harry’s vision was filled with green light and his ears with his mum’s screams. Harry screamed too, trying to rid the image form his mind. It went away, but was replaced by more.

“So uncreative,” said Bellatrix. “Avada Kedavra.” Yet another flash of green light and his Uncle was dead.

Harry screamed louder as Vernon Dursley’s face swam before his face. “My wife and son are dead because of your freaky kind! This would have never happened if you hadn’t been born!”

“No!” he cried. “Leave me alone!”

“I’ve come back, my pet,” purred Lucius.

“Tell me, Harry. Did you enjoy the time you spent with your relatives this year?”

Harry curled up on the ground, his mind bombarded by horrific images. A chilling cold swept over him, causing him to shiver violently on the ground.

“No!” cried Harry weakly as he saw his father, bound and broken, in the hands of Death Eaters.

“Crucio,” said Voldemort lazily. “You will die a traitor’s death.”

“No!” he screamed.

“It is only fitting for scum such as you. How did it ever come to this, Severus? Spying for the Light side. Blood traitor,” he spat. “Begin.”

“Crucio.”

“Crucio!”

Curse after curse was laid over his father at once. Harry’s screams of anguish were interspersed with his father’s screams of agony.

Harry felt his hands being gripped tightly, but when he looked down, there was nothing there. He flexed his fingers and felt strong hands holding them still. He knew those hands. His father.

He breathed deeply and quieted his screams. He wriggled his fingers, feeling comforted by the pressure. But at the same time, he heard those horrible words again.

“Everyone around you dies.” He tried to pull his hands away, but found he didn’t have the strength.

“Avada Kedavra.” Another flash of green light. Speeding Death hurtling towards his father and this time he couldn’t step in front of it to save him.

“No!” he screamed and yanked away from the hands that promised to protect him, to save him. Lies, it was all lies. He curled up tighter and cried as his father’s death replayed over and over in his mind.

~Snape’s POV~

Snape watched with increasing distress as his son continued to scream himself hoarse. He reached out and grasped Harry’s hands in an effort to calm him. When Harry tried to pull away, Snape held them tighter and reassuringly. Harry quieted down and stopped screaming. Thank Merlin, thought Snape. Harry then tried weakly to tug his hands away again.

“Harry?” queried Snape. Harry stiffened, and then yanked his hands away. He whimpered slightly and his breathing became heavy.

“Shoo, both of you,” he heard Madam Pomfrey say to the two Gryffindors behind him. She stood by Harry and moved her wand, incanting a series of spells.

“Well,” she finally concluded. “I can’t do anything to quell his nightmares, but I think that comforting him helped. As far as his reacting, to both the dream and the environment around him, I find that to be a good sign. Make sure when you visit him that you let him know you’re there. It will help.” Snape thanked her and she retreated to her office after administering another nutritive potion to Harry.

“You’ve got us really worried, Harry,” he began as he seated himself next to Harry.

~Harry’s POV~

When the images finally ceased, Harry found himself in the middle of a forest. Silence reigned over it; not even a gentle breeze disturbed the complete and utter stillness. Harry looked around nervously. Something was not right about this. The silence unnerved him.

He began walking, looking for a way out. What seemed like an hour later, he was still in the forest with no idea of where to go. Darkness was descending rapidly, and there was no shelter anywhere.

Harry sat down beside a tree and leaned on it, shivering in the slight chill that was brought on by the dark. Still, there were no noises save for the ones he’d created, but even those were muted. What was going on? There was no way out of this. He wanted desperately to get out of the forest and back to reality. Or maybe this was reality. That Bludger had really messed things up.

He sincerely hoped that Snape had killed the little arsehole that had devised that plan. Draco Malfoy. Voldemort’s number one little Death Eater-in-training. As soon as he got out of this, he was going to kick Malfoy’s arse. Maybe he should just kill the prat. It would be good practice for when he’d have to do it to Voldemort. He growled softly under his breath.

Just now helpless was he now? The little Junior Death Eaters could probably waltz right into the hospital wing and kill him. He had to get back. He fought against his mind. The forest vanished and was replaced by the dark fog, but now, it seemed to have lessened. He heard his father talking and strained to hear.

“…Wish you would wake up soon…” Harry struggled harder and the fog finally dissipated, leaving him in darkness that wasn’t completely dark. He tried to open his eyes, but it seemed as though they were stuck shut somehow.

There was suddenly silence and then, “Harry?” Had he somehow moved his eyelids?

“Are you awake?” He was awake, he just couldn’t open his eyes! What was going on? He wanted to open his eyes so much. Why couldn’t he? He wanted to see his father’s face, to know he didn’t want to leave him. In his desperation, he felt his left hand twitch. He felt a warm hand envelope his own, and his fingers being lightly squeezed.

“If you can hear me, squeeze my fingers, okay?” asked Snape. Harry felt their hands’ positions being shifted and found his hand wrapped awkwardly around Snape’s. He shifted his hand to a better position and lightly squeezed Snape’s fingers. He didn’t have the strength left to do any more than that. He felt sick and his head ached where he had been hit.

Unwillingly, he felt himself slipping back into the dream world. He had been returned to the forest, but this time, quiet whispers permeated the air around him.

“Hello?” he said uncertainly. The sound was all around him, tantalizing voices that beckoned him to them, but where were they? He had completely lost all sense of direction. He whirled around, searching between the trees for any signs of people.

“Where are you?” he cried in frustration.

“We are everywhere. In the trees and the grass and the air. We are everything, even you.” Harry stared wildly. They were everywhere? But he couldn’t see them.

“Show me where you are!” cried Harry.

“Come and find us,” taunted the voices.

“Stop it!” Harry screamed. He began running, desperate to get away from the voices, but they followed, taunting and jeering. He ran through the trees, branches slamming into his face and scratching his arms. He brushed them out of his way and kept running. Suddenly, the trees vanished and he was sliding over the edge of a steep embankment. He twisted around and grabbed frantically at a rock. He clung tightly to it as he tried to push his way back up.

The voices finally ceased and silence reigned again until a sharp crack broke the silence. Harry leaned his head back to see over the edge of the embankment and saw a pair of highly polished black boots, half-covered by black robes. Beside the boots was a silver cane. Harry’s heart froze in his chest. Should he take his chances on falling or risk the encounter with Lucius? He tightened his grip on the rock and stared fearfully up.

“So, what brings your Death Eater scum my way?” commented Harry as casually as he could. That was the trick. Keep him talking and his thoughts off that cane. Though there could be another knife hidden somewhere. Harry shuddered slightly.

“He talks so brave, yet his actions give him away,” said Lucius as though he was talking to someone else.

“Indeed,” drawled another voice. One that Harry knew all too well.

“He dares insult our Lord and his faithful followers?” Harry’s heart thudded painfully in his chest. The black robes of his father swished into sight, and then he was kneeling before Harry. Harry tightened his grip on the rock yet again.

“Help me,” he choked out. Snape laughed softly.

“Help you? Why would I do that?” he said mockingly. Harry heard several more distinct cracks and then Snape was standing up and retreating beside Lucius and several other black-clad figures. Harry’s scar seared with pain and he reached out to rub it with one hand and almost lost his hold on the rock. He grabbed it again while his scar burned painfully. He fritted his teeth and looked up at the man--no, creature--that plagued his very existence.

“He was already begging for mercy, my Lord,” drawled Lucius.

“Good,” said Voldemort happily. “Oh, how I shall enjoy his screams as he falls. Do it, Lucius.” Lucius moved towards Harry, his cane gleaming in the sunlight. Voldemort retreated, but not very far. Harry was grateful for this, as the pain in his scar subsided a bit.

“It’s a long ways down, isn’t it?” commented Lucius, his feet coming to a stop inches from Harry’s hands.

“All those sharp rocks at the bottom.” Harry adjusted his hand on the rock, resisting the urge to look down, to see if there were rocks at the bottom.

“Scared, Potter?” asked Lucius. Harry didn’t respond.

“How do you think it will feel, having your body ripped apart by rocks? You’ll be finding out quite soon.” He stepped forward again, onto Harry’s right hand. Harry bit his lip to keep from screaming in pain. Lucius removed his foot and Harry felt his hand slipping off the rock. His eyes began to water and he whimpered as Lucius’ foot drew near to his left hand. Lucius’ foot came down on Harry’s hand harder than the first time, causing Harry to gasp in pain. Lucius slowly dragged his foot backwards.

“How does it feel, knowing that I am in charge of when you fall?” mocked Lucius. Harry trembled in fear. He knew the instant Lucius removed his foot from his hand that he was going to fall. Slowly, Lucius’ black boot was removed from his hand and Harry tried futilely to hold on with his pained fingers. His hands slipped off and then he was falling through the air......

The ground rushed towards Harry and he screamed. Voldemort’s maniacal laughter rang in his ears as he woke with a start. With his heart beating frantically in his chest, he searched in the semi-darkness for Snape. No one was there.

“Dad?” he called uncertainly. Was he really awake this time or was this his mind playing another cruel trick on him? He shoved the blankets back and stumbled out of bed. He had to grip the bedpost to keep steady as he looked around the room, which didn’t have any doors or windows.

“Hello?” he called. Where was he? He took a few unsteady steps and stumbled over his feet. He fell towards the wall.

Harry was shocked when he passed right through it. He landed, sprawled out, on the floor of the darkened hospital wing. He sat up and looked behind him.

The “wall” behind him looked exactly like the rest of the hospital wing walls. He touched the wall and his hand passed right through it. Just like Platform Nine and Three Quarters, thought Harry.

“There you are, Mr. Potter,” came the voice of Madam Pomfrey from behind him. Harry twisted back around and saw the Medi-witch standing there, wearing her dressing gown.

“You should not be out of bed, considering you’ve just woken up from a coma,” chided Madam Pomfrey. 'What?' Harry’s mind reeled.

“Up you get now.” She gripped his upper arm and pulled him to his feet.

“But--”

“You need to rest,” said Madam Pomfrey as she led Harry through the “wall” and over to his bed.

“Where is Professor Snape?” demanded Harry.

“He is sleeping, which is exactly what you should be doing,” said Madam Pomfrey.

“I want to see him,” said Harry.

“It is the middle of the night. You can see him in the morning,” said Madam Pomfrey.

“But--”

“Go to sleep or I will make you sleep,” she ordered. Harry obeyed, climbing into bed, but he couldn't fall asleep. His mind was abuzz with thoughts. How long had be been out? What had happened with Malfoy? Where was his father?

He curled up on his side on the bed, knowing that he didn’t have the strength to get up and find him. He would have to wait for morning, if Madam Pomfrey was telling the truth.

Doubt was starting to creep into his mind about that. He tossed and turned for several hours until Madam Pomfrey came into the room with a potion. He took the potion and drank it, grimacing at the bitter taste. Minutes later, he was asleep…..

Soft voices woke him from his restful sleep. He blinked his eyes open blearily and looked for the small disturbance. Across the room, he could make out the form of Madam Pomfrey and someone in black robes facing away from him.

Still feeling disoriented, he managed to sit up and said, “Dad?” The figure in black whirled around and Harry was suddenly caught up in Snape’s tight embrace.

“Merlin, Harry. I thought I’d lost you,” Snape breathed into Harry’s shoulder. Harry’s mind was relieved, then, to hear those words. All those dreams hadn’t been true. Snape wouldn’t leave him. Not now, not ever.

Harry relaxed into Snape’s embrace, letting himself let go. Hot tears slid down his face and were soaked up by Snape’s robes. They stayed like that for a long time, drinking up each other’s presence, until Madam Pomfrey interrupted them to give Harry his potions.

As soon as her back was turned, Harry rolled his eyes at his father, but drank the vile potions nonetheless. Moments later, he began to feel tired as the potions took effect.

“That’s not fair,” he complained as his eyes slipped closed.

“Sleep, Harry,” he heard as he fell into a dreamless sleep. When he woke up, Ron and Hermione were seated at the end of his bed.

“Hey guys,” he said as he sat up.

“Hello, Harry,” said Hermione.

“Hey mate,” said Ron.

“Professor Snape was just in here. He said to tell you he had some work to do, but he’ll be by later,” said Hermione.

“Okay,” said Harry.

“We brought your work by,” said Hermione. Ron gave him a sympathetic look as he pointed to a pile of books and parchment on the table beside his bed. “You really need to stop missing classes.”

“And Quidditch practices,” added Ron. “Speaking of which, that little ferret and his goons all got a lifetime ban from Quidditch after that stunt.”

“Good. They deserve it,” said Harry vindictively.

“They really ought to have been expelled,” interjected Hermione.

“Guess Dumbledore didn’t want them to be able to join You-Know-Who,” said Ron. Harry would rather he be expelled, even if it would put him where he could be trained to be just like his father. As it was, he could get revenge on the little ferret.

“Knowing him, he’ll probably do plenty of other things that are grounds for expulsion. Dumbledore won’t be able to ignore it for long,” said Harry.

“True,” said Hermione. Harry was a little worried, though. Malfoy was sure to try much worse things than having him hit in the head with a Bludger. He decided to change the subject.

“So, does anyone know when I’m getting out of here?” he asked.

“Madam Pomfrey didn’t tell us, maybe she told Professor Snape,” said Hermione.

“I don’t want to stay in here. I’ve already missed enough classes,” complained Harry.

“We’ll just keep bringing you your assignments,” said Hermione brightly. “You need to stay in the hospital wing until you’re better.” Harry rolled his eyes.

“I feel fine,” he said exasperatedly.

“Harry, you’ve been unconscious for over a week, you’ll be staying here until Madam Pomfrey says you can leave,” he heard his father say from across the room. Harry looked up and saw Snape carrying a large box.

“I need to give these to Madam Pomfrey,” said Snape and headed to Madam Pomfrey’s office.

“Oh really?” said Harry quietly.

“Are you planning on sneaking out?” asked Ron excitedly.

“Shh,” said Harry.

“Harry! You’re not sneaking out of here,” admonished Hermione.

“Who says I can’t?” challenged Harry.

“I do,” said Hermione.

“As do I,” Snape’s voice interrupted. “Madam Pomfrey believes that you will be in here a few days longer. I’m sure you can wait that long.”

“Sure,” said Harry, though he still wanted out. Ron and Hermione only stayed a while longer, then left Harry with Snape, who wanted to voice some concerns over Harry’s safety.

“When you get out of here, I want you to be very careful, especially around the Slytherins, mainly Malfoy and his gang. He’s dangerous. There’s no telling what he might do if he’s given the opportunity,” said Snape seriously.

“Okay,” said Harry.

“Keep your wand with you at all times and this,” said Snape, holding out a tiny vial on a silver chain.

“What is it?” asked Harry as he put it around his neck. He held it up for close inspection and saw that it was filled with a bluish liquid.

“The Antidote to Common Poisons. And if it doesn’t work, it’s a voice-activated Portkey that will take you directly to my rooms. It will only react to your voice and the word home, but you have to be holding onto it for it to work. Do not lose it and don’t let anyone see it.” Harry tucked it under his shirt and looked at his father.

“What’s next, me carrying a dagger around?” joked Harry.

“Don’t joke, that’s a distinct possibility,” said Snape seriously.

“Okay,” said Harry. He hoped he wouldn’t have to carry any weapons with him. That was like admitting he might have to injure or kill another person, and he wasn’t so sure he could do that. At least, not to anyone who wasn’t Voldemort.

Harry could feel the pressure now. He was going to have to kill Voldemort, possibly in the very near future. He would have to take another’s life, even if he was inherently evil. He might have to kill others too, besides Voldemort. He shuddered at the thought and felt Snape’s light touch on his arm.

“Harry?” asked Snape.

“What?” said Harry.

“You were out of it for a minute there,” said Snape.

“Oh, I was just thinking how this is so much more real now,” said Harry, fingering the necklace.

“I just want you to be safe,” said Snape.

“Yeah, I know,” said Harry softly.

The next few days passed by slowly for Harry, interrupted by dozens of potions and repeated check-ups by Madam Pomfrey. He was finally released on Wednesday night with strict instructions to return if he felt at all unwell. Harry and rolled his eyes at this and walked out with his friends.

The next day, he was back to class, thankfully caught up with his work.

Thank Merlin for Hermione, thought Harry as he headed to Potions, his last class of the day. Harry turned in his assignments and went to his seat with Hermione. Snape set them all to making Calming Draughts. Harry figured that wouldn’t be too hard, but there was a danger of explosion if anything other than the ingredients necessary was added while brewing.

As he was making his potion, he heard a quiet chink beside him. Looking down, he could see a raven claw lying on the table beside his cauldron.

Odd, he thought as he picked it up and examined it. He turned around and saw Malfoy seemingly intent on making his potion, though Harry could see the traces of a smirk on his face.

“Mr. Potter, I advise you attend to your potion and quit gawking about the room.” Harry turned around and dropped the claw back on his table, then resumed work on his potion.

A few minutes later, though, he heard a quiet splash. His cauldron began to hiss and bubble angrily.

'Shit,' he thought.

“Get down!” he yelled as he threw himself to the floor and covered his head with his arms. He heard loud gurgling and then the potion exploded, raining droplets of burning potion down onto his body.

It only lasted a few seconds, though. He heard Snape yell out an incantation and the potion ceased to fall, though Harry’s skin still prickled uncomfortably. He got to his feet and looked around. Malfoy was looking quite smug and unharmed.

“Those of you who have not been harmed by the potion are dismissed. Those who have, come up here for the antidote.” Harry headed up to the front with several other people.

He winced when Snape suddenly barked, “Mr. Malfoy, stay here!” Malfoy dropped back into his seat, the smug look gone from his face. Snape handed each of them a tiny vial of green potion.

“Drink it all,” he advised them. Harry downed his and handed the vial back. The burning immediately subsided from his skin.

“The rest of you are dismissed now, except for Mr. Malfoy,” said Snape. Harry turned to go get his bag, but felt Snape grab hold of his arm.

“I want you in my office at six, Mr. Potter,” said Snape.

“Yes, sir,” he muttered and pulled away to get his bag. What did Snape want with him now? He hadn’t done anything. He grabbed his bag and left, heading up to the Tower.

Once inside, he joined Ron and Hermione beside the fire.

“Are you all right, Harry?” asked Hermione, concern obvious in her voice.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” said Harry as he sat down. “but Snape wants me to come down at six.”

“Why?” asked Ron.

“I have no idea. Probably about that little ferret,” said Harry. When it was time to head to the dungeons, Harry made sure he kept one hand on his wand the whole way down. Malfoy hadn’t been at dinner, and Harry was sure he was planning something.

He walked uneasily to his father’s office. He knocked on the door while keeping one eye on the hallway. The door opened immediately and Harry slipped quickly inside.

“Sit,” ordered Snape. Harry dropped into the chair across from Snape’s desk. Snape came over and leaned against his desk with his arms crossed.

“The Headmaster feels it would be best if Mr. Malfoy is to remain in my class, though on probation. I am also moving him to the front of the room, where I can watch him closely.” Snape had brought him down here just to tell him this?

“And why are you telling me now?” asked Harry. Snape narrowed his eyes and leaned forward.

“I am calling you because you are in danger,” hissed Snape. “If you think Mr. Malfoy is the only Death Eater in training in this school, then you are sadly mistaken. There are plenty more of them, and they will not hesitate to hurt you and take you back to Voldemort.”

“Can’t you just expel them all?” asked Harry.

“You honestly think that would go over well with the Board of Governors? No student will be expelled from Hogwarts without reasonable cause, including Mr. Malfoy,” said Snape. “And no, being a suspected Death Eater is not reasonable cause. There has to be clear proof of wrongdoing.”

“Oh, and arranging to have me knocked off my broom isn’t? Or how about getting my potion to explode?” said Harry angrily.

“There is no actual proof,” said Snape calmly. Before Harry could interrupt, he continued. “You said it yourself. He arranged for it to happen, we can't prove that he is the one that made your potion explode either. All we have is circumstantial evidence, no real proof of anything, and that would never stand with the Governors, which brings me back to why I brought you down here. You must be kept safe at all costs.”

“Real safe, going to school with Junior Death Eaters,” muttered Harry.

“That is why I have a few rules for you,” said Snape.

“Sure, whatever,” said Harry.

“First, I want you to have your wand with you at all times. Second, you are to keep the poison antidote with you, also at all times. Third, you are not to walk around alone. I don’t care if you are using that blasted cloak or if you have that damned map with you, you are not to be alone. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” said Harry. Well, there went all his freedom. Damn those Junior Death Eaters, thought Harry. Snape must have gotten some sense of Harry’s thoughts, because he uncrossed his arms and leaned towards Harry.

“Harry, I just want you to be safe. I will do anything I can to keep you that way,” said Snape. “I don’t want you doing things that deliberately endanger yourself and others.”

“I will,” promised Harry, sobered by Snape’s sincerity.

“You can go now,” said Snape as he went around his desk and dropped into his chair. Harry got up and opened the door.

“’Night dad,” he said quietly before closing the door behind him.

~Snape’s POV~

Snape sat at his desk with his head in his hands. How had things gotten so bad, so quickly? Harry didn’t seem to understand the severity of the situation. Both Harry and himself were in danger from the continued threat of the Death Eaters’ children.

One of these days, someone was going to slip, and what would result would not be good. He just hoped it didn’t happen to him or his son.

Merlin, if anything else happened to Harry, he wasn’t sure how long it was going to take until Harry finally snapped. The beginning of the year had been hell, and Harry surely couldn’t take much more stress in his life.

Snape stopped to ponder Harry’s last words to him.

‘Night, dad.’

Did that mean Harry was feeling more comfortable with their newfound relationship? He hoped so. He wanted Harry to feel at ease in his presence. But Harry had left before he’d had a chance to reply. Was Harry afraid of what he might say back? Maybe he needed another talk with Harry about that.

Not another detention, no, something much more family-oriented, perhaps tea in his rooms on a Sunday? That would be much less formal. He would have to think on that a while…….

~Harry’s POV~

That night, Harry lay in bed, unable to sleep. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Snape had said to him, how there Death Eaters in Houses other than Slytherin. Who could they be? And how could they betray their school like that?

Then, yet another horrifying thought occurred to him. Were any of them Gryffindors? He shuddered and pressed himself against the headboard of his bed, his arms locked around his knees. If they were in his House, then he wasn’t safe at all at Hogwarts. He wasn’t safe anywhere.

Merlin, this was supposed to be a school, not a battlefield. Yet this war was affecting them all. Everyone had to choose a side, and not all of them were going to choose the Light side. People were going to die, some of them his classmates. No one was safe from the killings. Not even his friends. He shivered in the cool night air as it blew through his dormitory.

He climbed wearily out of bed to close the window and heard Ron’s sleepy voice ask, “Harry, that you?”

“Yeah, Ron. Go back to sleep,” said Harry heavily.

“Something the matter?” asked Ron.

“No, just……family stuff,” said Harry.

“Oh,” yawned Ron.

“Go back to sleep, Ron. I’m fine,” said Harry.

“’kay,” said Ron. Harry heard the covers rustling, and then Ron’s loud snores. He closed the window and climbed back into his bed, still wide-awake.

He lay on his stomach with his hands over his head. He had to get to sleep. He had classes in the morning. He didn’t need to be falling asleep during them, especially since it was only his second day back.

A part of him wanted to touch the vial around his neck and get a potion from Snape, but he was reluctant to depend on potions to sleep. Besides, that would mean having to face him after that horrible conversation they’d had and his parting words.

'Night dad.'

Just what part of him had compelled him to say that? And how was Snape going to react?

Harry had to admit, he was scared. Scared of losing his father again. He’d missed out on so much and now he was getting a second chance. Both of them were. But this war……..

They were both in danger, he was aware of that. There was a very high chance of one or both of them not making it through the war. Harry pressed his face to his pillow and tried not to think about that.

He just couldn’t face the thought of losing Snape. He felt a warm tear slide down his face and fall onto his pillow. His life was so mixed up right now. He wasn’t sure how much more chaos he could handle…..

What seemed like hours later, and probably was, Harry finally fell into a restless sleep filled with figures in black cloaks and people screaming.

He woke feeling exhausted from his restless night. He groaned at the bright light that was sneaking through the cracks in his bed curtains and covered his face.

“Harry, you finally awake?” came Ron’s voice.

“Go away, Ron,” said Harry.

“We’re going to be late if you don’t get a move on,” said Ron.

“I don’t care,” said Harry as he rolled over and covered his head with his blankets.

“Harry!” said Ron indignantly. Harry heard a soft swoosh as his bed curtains were opened. “You have to get up!”

“I don’t want to,” mumbled Harry.

“Fine, you can just stay here. But I am going to tell your dad,” said Ron as he moved away and the curtain fell back into place.

Harry remained where he was and quickly drifted back off to sleep. Who cared if Ron told on him? He sure didn’t. He was so tired……

------------------

“Harry.” Hands shook him gently. “Wake up.”

“Mrmph,” mumbled Harry drowsily.

“Come on, Harry. You’ve got to get up now,” came his father’s deep voice.

“Don’t wanna,” mumbled Harry.

“Harry!” said his father sternly. Harry’s eyes snapped open.

“What?” he said irritably.

“Why didn’t you get up this morning?” asked Snape.

“I was tired,” said Harry. “I couldn’t sleep all night.”

“And why is that?” asked Snape, his hands still not leaving Harry’s shoulders and his eyes not moving from Harry’s face.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about what you told me, about the Death Eaters here at Hogwarts,” said Harry.

“That shouldn’t bother you; you’ve known that many of the Slytherins come from Death Eater families,” said Snape.

“I know, but to think they could be Gryffindors, in my own House, where they could get at me. I just don’t want to have to worry about a bunch of little Lucius Malfoy clones running around.” Harry shuddered at the thought of what those kids could be capable of.

“I mean, if Lucius is teaching Malfoy things and he goes and tells the rest of them, I can’t face that. I just can’t….” Snape’s hands slid around his back and hugged Harry's body to him.

“I won’t let them do that. I won’t let them do anything to you,” said Snape gently.

“I know,” said Harry softly. “I’m just….scared.”

“Harry,” said Snape, his arms tightening around Harry. “I will do anything for you and I will keep you safe, no matter what, but please, promise me that you will come to me when you need me.”

“I promise,” said Harry. He looked up and gave Snape a watery smile. “dad.”

Snape smiled at him and said, “Come on, you’ve got enough time to get dressed and get to the Great Hall for lunch before your afternoon classes.”

“What?” asked Harry, confused.

“I’m just being your father,” said Snape as he released Harry and got off the bed. “I’ll see you in the Great Hall in a short while.” He left Harry alone to get dressed.

Harry did so quickly and walked down to the Common Room, where he was greeted by Ron and Hermione, both of whom were looking worried. When they saw him, Hermione threw her arms around him and began squeezing the life out of him.

“Hermione, I can’t breathe,” he gasped. She released him and looked at him with overly-bright eyes.

“We were so worried when you wouldn’t wake up,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.

“I’m fine. I was just really tired. I had some things on my mind,” said Harry.

“You said it was family stuff,” said Ron.

“It was,” said Harry. “Snape told me some things that I’d rather not discuss right now. It just freaked me out a bit, that’s all.”

“If you say so,” said Hermione doubtfully.

“Come on, let’s go to the Great Hall. I’m starved,” said Harry, changing the topic. He’d rather not discuss the Death Eaters in Hogwarts with Ron and Hermione. He just wasn’t ready to think about that.

“Sure,” said Ron. “I’m starved too.”

They walked downstairs and into the Great Hall, where Harry was greeted with stares and whispers from his classmates and an approving look from his father. He smiled up at the Head table and took a seat with Ron and Hermione.

“Does anyone know, you know, about Snape?” asked Harry quietly.

“I don’t think so,” said Hermione. “He came up during classes and got us out of Transfiguration to come with him. Professor McGonagall didn’t mind us going; she knew too.” Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank Merlin. I’m not ready for everyone else to know yet,” said Harry. “But what do you mean, ‘she already knew’?”

“We had to tell her this morning at breakfast that you wouldn’t get up. She told Snape and he said to just let you go, that he’d go up and check on you if you didn’t come down on your own,” said Ron.

“Oh, okay,” said Harry. His secret was safe for now, but how long would that be? With all this crazy stuff happening, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep up the charade.

The rest of the day was just a usual one for the Boy-Who-Lived. Pointing, whispers, stares. The usual for him. Harry just ignored it.

He’d missed a few classes because he’d overslept, what was the big deal? Unless there was something Ron and Hermione hadn’t told him.

There had to be a reason everyone was so interested in watching him. And he was sure that it had something to do with Snape.

After classes, Harry went up to the Tower and cornered Ron and Hermione in a secluded section of the Common Room.

“Is there something you’re not telling me about today?” he demanded to know.

“N-no,” said Hermione nervously.

“Hermione, we’ve got to tell him. We can’t keep it from him,” said Ron. Hermione frowned and reached for her bag. She rummaged through it and wordlessly handed the Daily Prophet to him.

‘Harry Potter Not a Potter?’ the front page screamed at him.

Harry dropped backwards into a chair and clutched the newspaper, a flood of emotions coursing through his body. He read through the article, rage at the newspaper growing with every word.

Harry Potter Not a Potter?

Daily Prophet reporters have just today received news that Harry Potter may not be a Potter at all, but a Snape. Out sources reveal that none other than both Harry Potter and Severus Snape revealed to several of Harry Potter’s close friends that Harry is indeed Snape’s child.

Severus Snape, Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, is known as the Death Eater turned spy for the Light side. He has been known to have protected Harry on several occasions, including the most recent one in which Mr. Potter received a serious blow to the head during a Quidditch match.

“He [Severus] has been getting quite dodgy lately, not docking points off Potter all the time. He [Severus] has been giving him [Harry] quite the large amount of detentions, plus the time he [Harry] disappeared for two weeks. One might wonder if they were….you know….together?” says Draco Malfoy, a sixth-year Slytherin at Hogwarts.

Well, we have no need to worry about them being “together,” as Mr. Malfoy puts it. More information on this will be forthcoming as soon as it’s available.

Harry heard the newspaper crinkle as his hands clenched into fists out of rage.

“Who Wrote This?” he asked through clenched teeth.

“It doesn’t say, but we have a good idea of who it was,” said Hermione, her voice trembling slightly.

“Who?” growled Harry.

“Rita Skeeter,” said Hermione quickly.

“What? I thought you were blackmailing her!” gasped Harry.

“I am, well, was,” said Hermione. “I’ve already sent a letter to the Ministry, informing them of her illegal Animagus status.”

“That isn’t going to take back what she wrote,” said Harry furiously as he jumped up to pace back and forth in front of Ron and Hermione.

“They all know now. Look at them.” Harry gestured at the few Gryffindors that were in the Common Room with the crumpled newspaper. They quickly looked down, not daring to meet Harry’s eyes.

“Harry, will you stop that?” asked Ron.

“Stop what?” Harry growled.

“You look like Snape when you do that,” said Ron. That was it. Snape’s rules could go to hell. He was done here.

“That’s it. I’m out,” snarled Harry as he stalked towards the portrait hole, throwing the Daily Prophet at the fire as he passed it.

“Damn Rita Skeeter,” he muttered as he shoved the Fat Lady open and stalked out.

“Harry!” he heard Hermione yell after him. He ignored them and headed down to the Room of Requirement, rage still flowing through his body.

He was nearly to the corridor when he felt a want tip press into his neck and a harsh voice whisper, “Don’t make any sudden moves or I will not hesitate to kill you.”

He was pushed roughly down the corridor and over to a door that appeared in the wall.

“In,” ordered the voice and he was shoved inside. Harry landed face-first and rolled over quickly. There was no one there. Suddenly, an arm was wrapped around his neck and he was yanked to his feet.

“How about we have a little fun, Mr. Potter? Or shall I say, Mr. Snape?” An icy chill ran through his veins as he recognized that cool, calculating voice as none other than Draco Malfoy.

“What are you doing, Malfoy?” asked Harry furiously.

“Oh, just assuring my place as the Dark Lord’s future right-hand man,” drawled Malfoy.

“Let me go,” said Harry furiously.

“And just why should I do that?” asked Malfoy, his voice dripping with scorn.

“Because everyone will be looking for me,” said Harry. “They’ll know exactly who took me.”

“Everyone? Really, Potter, do you think I’m stupid? You don’t think that this was all arranged so that it would be easier to get at you? Well, I’ve got a newsflash for you. You played right into our plan.” Harry swallowed nervously. Just what was Malfoy planning?

“You see it now? I knew there was something going on between you and Snape. Since when didn’t he take the opportunity to take points off you in class? What was it with your little disappearance at the beginning of the year? And just why were you getting so many detentions? Well, all it took was a few carefully planned out schemes, and I had all the information I needed. At first, I thought you two were lovers, but then, I thought, why would Snape risk his job to be with you? And then it hit me. All those changed mannerisms of yours, your attitude, you weren’t lovers, he was your father. I knew if I waited long enough, you would tell your little friends, and then, I could use that information to get you. Malfoy laughed.

“And look how it played out. Everyone’s too scared of you to come looking for when you when you go missing. Pathetic, really, how quickly your so-called friends abandon you the second they hear something bad about you. Now, we’ve got about a half hour until the Portkey is set to go off, so I think I’ll have a chance to practice a few new spells I’ve been learning.”

He released Harry and shoved him to the floor. But before Harry had a chance to try and run, thin cords shot out of Malfoy’s wand and bound his wrists and ankles together. Harry struggled futilely with his bonds, and froze in fear as he heard Malfoy incant a spell.

“Crucio!”

~Snape’s POV~

Snape sat in his office, glaring at the newspaper, which lay on his desk instead of grading the essays he had collected from his second-year class that day.

How in the hell had the Daily Prophet found out his and Harry’s secret? Neither of them had said anything, and he was certain Harry’s Gryffindor friends at least knew how to keep sensitive information secret.

Harsh pounding on his door brought Snape out of his reverie and he stood up to answer the door. He opened the door and found Ron and Hermione standing there, looking quite horrified. Hermione clutched a half-charred copy of the Daily Prophet.

“What do you want?” asked Snape.

“It’s Harry, sir,” said Hermione quickly. “he’s run off and we were wondering if he came down here.”

“What?” hissed Snape.

“He saw this and….just….flipped out,” said Ron, pointing at the newspaper. Damn Gryffindors. They never knew when to keep their mouths shut.

“Have you any idea of where else he might be?” asked Snape.

“Erm……the Room of Requirement. It’s on the--”

“fourth floor, opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy,” interrupted Snape impatiently. He pushed past them and started upstairs.

“Are you coming?” he asked the gaping Gryffindors.

“Yes,” said Hermione determinedly and dragged Ron along behind her. The walk only took about ten minutes and soon they had arrived at a plain brown door across from the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. He turned the handle, but the door didn’t budge. Snape pulled out his wand and tried all the unlocking spells he knew.

“Damn,” he muttered as the door steadfastly refused to open. There had to be warding spells on the door but which ones?

Snape wracked his brain, trying to think of the spells a Death Eater would use. Then, he thought of something. The quote in the Daily Prophet has been from Malfoy.

“Shite,” he swore as he realized that Malfoy had to have Harry in there.

All of this had been one big plot. Most likely going all the way back to the beginning of school. At least that narrowed the spells down a bit. He began launching another tirade of spells at the door, hoping to find the right one.

“Umm….sir, what are you doing?” asked Hermione nervously.

“Quiet, Miss Granger,” he snapped and continued with the spells.

Finally, he heard a loud click and the door swung open, revealing Malfoy with his back to them and Harry lying tied up on the ground. Harry’s eyes widened as he saw the trio. Snape motioned for him to stay silent and he pushed the Gryffindors to the side, where they would be out of harm’s way.

He raised his wand and softly uttered, “Petrificus Totalus.” The blonde boy stiffened and fell to the floor, completely motionless. He cast a Stunning Spell on the boy just in case and knelt by Harry. He quickly untied the cords that bound Harry, and then helped him to his feet.

“Are you all right?” he asked concernedly.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” said Harry as he walked over to where Malfoy lay.

“Stupid ferret,” muttered Harry as he kicked the boy vengefully.

“Let me guess, attempted murder isn’t grounds for expulsion either?” he added.

“Harry, the Headmaster will be the one to deal with--” started Snape, but stopped abruptly when Malfoy’s body glowed blue and vanished.

Harry swore loudly, but Snape went over to him and said, “I think a visit with the Headmaster is in order.”

“Sure,” said Harry. He sounded strange, not at all like his usual self. Snape attributed it to the trauma he’d experienced and led the way up to Dumbledore’s office, the three Gryffindors trailing behind.

When they arrived at the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore’s office, Snape gave the latest asinine password, “Em and Em,” and headed upstairs with the Gryffindors.

Dumbledore summoned them in without them having to knock. Snape sat down in one of the four chairs that were across from Dumbledore’s desk. Harry sat down beside him and then Ron and Hermione.

“Severus, what brings the four of you up here?” asked Dumbledore.

“I trust you know about the article that was in the Daily Prophet?” said Snape.

“Yes, of course I do, though I have no idea how they found out,” Dumbledore mused. “Do go on.”

“I think these three need to explain first,” said Snape, gesturing to Harry and his friends. As usual, Hermione had to be the first to answer.

“Well, you see sir, we were trying to keep the article from Harry for the moment,” started Hermione.

“Oh yeah, that worked out so well,” muttered Harry.

“And he confronted us and found out about it. He got really angry and took off. That’s all we know,” she finished.

“Because you two were being idiots,” said Harry.

“Harry, don’t be rude,” said Snape quietly.

“They did it first,” retorted Harry.

“Harry, why don’t you tell us what happened after you left Gryffindor Tower?” asked Dumbledore.

“I wanted to go to the Room of Requirement for a while, until things cooled down a bit, but when I was nearly there, Malfoy grabbed me and took me to the Room of Requirement at wand point,” said Harry flatly.

“He used the Cruciatus Curse on me for a while, and then Professor Snape came in and rescued me.”

There was something off about Harry’s story. He certainly didn’t look affected for the amount of time he would have been under the curse.

“He didn’t use any other curses on you?” asked Dumbledore solemnly.

“No,” said Harry certainly.

“And where is Mr. Malfoy right now?” asked Dumbledore.

“He was Portkey’ed out with the Portkey that was meant for Harry,” said Snape.

“Ah, well, that is very unfortunate for us. If he returns, he is to be brought to me immediately,” said Dumbledore. “But that is not something to discuss around students. I am very glad to see that you were not taken, Harry, but I really must return to work now. I believe I need to have a chat with the Minister about erecting more wards around the school. You are all dismissed.” The foursome trooped downstairs in silence.

When the gargoyle had closed behind them, Snape turned to Harry and asked, “Would you like to come down to my quarters for a while?”

“I’d rather not, not right now,” said Harry. “I think I’ll just go back to the Tower.”

“Make sure you stay with your friends,” said Snape, feeling slightly hurt by Harry’s blunt refusal to come with him.

“Sure, whatever,” said Harry dismissively and walked off.

“Will you two keep an eye on him? Something’s not right,” said Snape.

“Sure, Professor,” said Hermione. She grabbed Ron’s arm and started off in the direction Harry had went.

Over the next few days, Snape kept a close eye on Harry, noticing small, odd changes in his behavior.

Harry was quiet when in the Great Hall, eating quickly, then leaving, regardless of the rules that Snape had set up for his protection. It seemed Harry didn’t care for his safety anymore. At least Ron and Hermione continued to tail him, making sure that he remained safe from the Slytherins.

When he had kept Harry after class one day to talk to him about his behavior, Harry had been antagonistic and belligerent, eventually storming out of the room in anger.

Snape had gotten several complaints from Harry’s teachers about him acting out in class. He’d walked out on more than one class and had received several detentions. It seemed like Harry had just turned into a different person, right in front of their eyes.

Heavy knocking on his office door made Snape set aside his quill from the essays he was supposed to be grading and wave his wand to let the person in. Remus Lupin stepped inside and shut the door behind him. He looked strangely upset and unsettled. Snape pointed to the chair across from his desk and Lupin sat down.

“I need to talk to you about Harry,” said Lupin.

“Talk then,” said Snape impatiently. It probably wasn’t something he hadn’t heard already. There wasn’t much that Harry hadn’t done to annoy his teachers yet.

“I had the sixth-years practicing dueling today,” started Lupin. Oh Merlin. He’d just jinxed himself with that thought.

“What did Harry do now?” asked Snape, not sure that he really wanted to know what had happened.

“Well, as I said, they were to practice dueling. I paired Harry with Michael Corner, thinking that it would be a nice, safe pairing, since Michael’s a Ravenclaw,” said Lupin.

“What happened?” asked Snape, dreading the answer.

“It was about halfway through the class when it was their turn to duel. Before they actually began the duel, Michael started making some inappropriate comments about you to Harry. Harry....he just went nuts. I’ve never seen him so angry before. The look in his eyes.....it was scary. He started flinging hexes and curses at Michael so fast that he never had a chance to block or dodge them.” Lupin shook his head, looking stunned. Snape was shocked by Harry’s actions.

“I want to see this in a pensieve. Hold on while I Floo the Headmaster,” said Snape. He went over to the fireplace and took a handful of glittering emerald powder from the box on the mantle piece.

He threw it into the fire and said, “Headmaster Dumbledore’s office!”

Dumbledore’s bearded face appeared in the green flames and asked, “What do you need, Severus?”

Snape turned to Lupin and asked, “Does he know about the incident?” At Lupin’s curt nod, he turned back to the Headmaster.

“I wish to see Lupin’s memory of the incident in his class today. I wondered if I might borrow your pensieve?” asked Snape.

“Of course, Severus. I’ll bring it down immediately,” said Dumbledore. His face left the fire with a pop and Snape returned to his desk.

“He’ll be down momentarily,” said Snape.

“Good,” said Lupin. “Have you any idea what’s causing Harry’s behavior?”

“I honestly don’t know. He’s been acting like this since Malfoy tried to kidnap him and then vanished,” said Snape. Lupin leaned forward in his chair and stared intently at Snape.

“Is there a chance that Malfoy did something to him, something that’s making him act this way?” asked Lupin. “Because I can’t imagine that Harry would be this aggressive on his own.”

“Malfoy had Harry trapped for about a half hour, he could have done anything to him, but Harry says he only used the Cruciatus Curse, and not very long,” said Snape.

“Then there’s something he’s not telling us,” concluded Lupin.

Before the conversation could go farther, knocking alerted the two men to Dumbledore’s presence. Snape got up and opened the door, allowing the much older wizard to enter. Dumbledore set the pensieve down on Snape’s desk and the retreated to the door.

“Do let me know when you are finished with it, Severus,” said Dumbledore before closing the door again. Snape reseated himself at his desk and pushed the pensieve over to Lupin.

“I trust you do know how to use this?” he asked.

Lupin nodded and pulled out his wand. He placed his wand to his temple, and after a minute, pulled a silvery strand away from his head and deposited it into the pensieve. Snape picked up his own wand and prepared to stick it into the swirling liquid.

“Are you going to watch?” asked Snape.

“I think I’ll just wait here. Living through it was plenty for me,” said Lupin. Snape dipped his wand into the pensieve and felt it tugging him into the depths of Lupin’s memory.

Colors swirled around him until he landed on his feet in the middle of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Harry and Michael Corner were standing near him, their wands raised, preparing to duel.

“All right, you may begin,” said Lupin.

“So, having fun with Snape, Potter? Or shall I call you Snape?” sneered Michael as the two circled each other warily.

“Shut up and duel,” growled Harry, his eyes narrowed in anger.

“Hit a soft spot there, did I? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were pursuing extra-curricular activities other than Quidditch,” said Michael, a smirk on his face. It was then that Snape saw it.

Harry’s face had been full of rage before, but his eyes. They seemed to have darkened, turning into a strange greenish-gray, like a sea before a storm. They were slightly glazed and unfocused, like he wasn’t really seeing.

“Don’t talk about my father like that,” hissed Harry.

“I’ll talk about him however I want,” said Michael. “How about you tell us where you really were those two weeks at the beginning of term?”

“That’s none of your business,” said Harry, his face beginning to redden.

“Having fun with dear old dad, were you?” mocked Michael.

Harry growled deep in his throat and began launching an amazing variety of spells at Michael. Spells he should never have known. Spells he could not have known, mostly spells that were bordering on Dark Arts. Students began screaming as Michael began sporting all sorts of disfigurements.

“Harry, stop!” yelled Lupin.

“Harry, don’t!” yelled Hermione. Harry stopped his spells and looked into Hermione’s eyes. There was a sort of desperation on his face, a look that Snape couldn’t quite comprehend. It was almost as though he were asking for help.

The spell was broken seconds later, and Harry ran out of the room, shoving people aside in his haste to get away. The memory ended, and Snape could feel the pensieve spitting him back out.

He was returned to his chair in his office and he stared fiercely at Lupin.

“There is definitely something wrong with Harry,” said Snape firmly. “It has to be some sort of Dark Arts spell, something Malfoy learned from his father. We’ll need to go to the Slytherin Common Room.”

Snape returned the memory to Lupin with a flick of his wand and led the way out of his office. They headed to the Slytherin Common Room, where they were immediately granted access without the password. The Slytherins stared in shock as he swiftly entered their Common Room.

“There is nothing wrong. We just need to check on a few things,” said Snape and headed to the sixth-year boys’ dormitory.

They quickly found Malfoy’s trunk and began searching it after casting a few unlocking charms, plus using the unwarding spell that Snape had used to counteract the wards that Malfoy had used on the Room of Requirement.

Snape soon realized that the search was going to take forever. He therefore decided to use a charm that would mark all the items that had been touched by Lucius’ magical signature, any Death Eaters’ signature, really. It was better to be safe than sorry, especially where Harry was concerned.

He waved his wand in a sweeping arc over Malfoy’s possessions and incanted, “Révéler tout mangeur de Mort' la présence magique.”

Nothing glowed except a small wooden box nestled in the bottom of Malfoy’s trunk. Snape picked it up and the red glow died.

“This is all we need. Let’s get out of here,” said Snape. He led the way out of Slytherin House and back up to his office. Once inside, he moved the pensieve to the side and set the box down.

There was no latch or lock that he could see, so he pulled out his wand again and began to cast unlocking charms on it, though not the usual sort of them. He used charms he’d been taught as a Death Eater, eventually hearing a click, as the box was unlocked.

The lid sprang open and the men could see a pile of parchment scrolls filling it. Snape pulled one out and unrolled it.

Dear Draco, it read.

Your mother and I are so pleased to have the Dark Lord accept you into his following. I have uncovered a spell that will help you immensely in your task for the Dark Lord. It will be difficult for you to learn, but I have faith in your abilities.

The incantation is pour altérer un esprit. Be sure that you have him where you can clearly cast the spell at him otherwise the spell could have drastic results.

Be careful, my son, and good luck.

Your father,

Lucius Malfoy

“This is it,” said Snape excitedly. They had the proof they needed to get Malfoy expelled, plus the means to help Harry. He held the letter out for Lupin to read. The lycanthrope took the letter and scanned it quickly.

“What does this mean, his task?” asked Lupin when he passed the letter back.

Snape sighed mentally. He could remember his task as clear as the day he’d had to perform it. Malfoy’s task was a cakewalk compared to what he’d done.

He could still hear the Dark Lord’s voice, commanding, “Kill the girl!” The green light that had emitted from his wand as he’d cast his first Killing Curse.

“Severus?” said Lupin quietly. Snape shook his head.

“It’s the first task a new Death Eater has to perform for the Dark Lord. They have to do it before they are allowed to attend an actual meeting or go on any raids. I’d guess his was to do something to Harry,” said Snape.

“Did you have to do one of them?” asked Lupin quietly.

“Of course I did, you bloody idiot,” snapped Snape. “My past is not up for discussion at the moment. What Malfoy did to Harry is what we need to figure out.”

“Fine, Severus. I was just curious, that’s all,” said Lupin.

“Then get your curiosity under control. I don’t want you making inquiries into my past,” said Snape sharply.

“All right, calm down,” said Lupin, anger hinting in his voice.

“I am calm,” said Snape. “Now, do you have any idea of where Harry is?”

“I don’t exactly know where, but I know a way of finding out,” said Lupin.

“Then find him,” said Snape.

“We’ll need to go to my office,” said Lupin.

“Fine, lead the way,” said Snape. Lupin stood up and led the way to his office. Inside, he went behind his desk and pulled a folded piece of parchment from a drawer.

He touched his wand to the parchment and quietly said an incantation. He then held it out so that Snape could see it too. It was a complete map of Hogwarts, with tiny dots labeled with peoples’ names.

“There he is,” said Lupin, pointing to a spot on the map that Snape saw was the Astronomy Tower. “What’s he doing up there?”

“I don’t know, but let’s go see,” said Snape. The men were silent during the short walk and when they reached the top, they saw Harry kneeling by the edge, looking out over the grounds. When he heard them approaching, he jumped up and spun around, looking startled.

“Harry, what are you doing up here?” asked Snape.

“What do you care?” retorted Harry.

“I am your father, Harry. I care about you and I want to know what’s wrong with you,” said Snape. “Please come down to my office with us so we can talk.”

“Talk? Ha,” Harry snorted. “You just want to give me more of your psycho-analysis crap. I’m sick of hearing it. Can’t you just let me alone?”

“Harry, there is something wrong with you. What did Malfoy do to you?”

“Nothing, he didn’t do anything to me,” said Harry vehemently.

“You’re lying, Harry,” said Snape calmly.

“No, I’m not,” said Harry. He started edging towards the open area that led to the stairs.

“Look at yourself, Harry. You would never act this way normally,” said Snape.

“I am acting normally,” said Harry.

“We can help you. You just need to come with us,” said Lupin.

“No, I don’t need help and I don’t need either of you,” replied Harry. He finally made it to the opening and took off running.

“Stop, Harry!” yelled Snape as the two ran after him. Harry quickly gained speed on them, and disappeared around a corner. When Snape and Lupin rounded the same corner, they stopped in shock as they saw Harry lying on the floor, clutching his head.

They knelt beside him and saw that his eyes and teeth were clenched tightly as his body shook with pain.

“Harry,” said Snape quietly as he laid a hand on Harry’s arm. Harry’s eyes opened slightly and Snape could see that they were bright green again, but only for a second, then they were back to the strange sea green.

“Harry, are you all right?” he asked. Harry’s body relaxed and his eyes opened all the way, still that disturbing color. He sat up and pushed himself away from Snape and Lupin.

“Get away from me,” he hissed, his attitude completely returned. Snape grabbed his arms, unwilling to let Harry run off again.

“No, we’re not going to leave you alone and we won’t go away,” he said forcefully. “I would be neglecting my duty as a parent if I did so.”

“Guess what? I do not care,” said Harry slowly, pulling himself out of Snape’s grip. He stood up and looked them straight in the eyes.

“I don’t want or need your help. Give it up, because I’m not your little pet. Duty as a parent, my arse. You can both go to hell for all I care. Just stay out of my life.”

He turned and walked away, leaving behind his shocked father and Professor.

“Oh my God,” whispered Lupin. Snape got to his feet and watched his son walk away without a single glance back at them.

“If Malfoy comes back, I am going to kill him,” hissed Snape. He reached down a hand and helped Lupin to his feet. He walked off in the opposite direction that Harry had gone, in the direction of the library.

“What are you doing?” asked Lupin. “We need to follow him.”

“No, he’s made it quite clear he doesn’t want us around him. We’re going to the library and we’re going to find this spell. I will not let Malfoy take my son away.”

Inside the library, Snape borrowed a piece of parchment and a never-out quill from Madam Pince, then headed over to the Restricted Section, where any information on the spell was most likely to be.

He set the parchment and the quill on a table in the corner, and then he and Lupin set out finding books that could contain information on that spell.

He wasn’t going to waste time searching through them, though. He knew a quick spell that could search books and would tell whether something was in a book or not. He set his pile of books down on the table and pulled out his wand.

“Revelo pour altérer un esprit,” he incanted. The topmost book remained still. Snape set it aside and continued on to the next one. Dozens of books later, they still hadn’t found anything.

Finally, about a half hour later, Lupin said, “Look at this,” and held out a book to him. Snape took the proffered book and read the passage Lupin indicated.

Another mind-altering spell is known as the Mind Bender. A spell on a level with the Imperius

Curse, it bends the victims mind and spirit to the caster’s will. Misuse of this spell can have

disastrous results on both the caster and victim.

All at once Snape remembered where he had seen the spell before. It was in a book in his own personal library, which, conveniently enough, was at his manor house. They would need to Floo there.

“Come on,” he said to Lupin. “We need to go to my manor.”

“Whatever for?” asked Lupin.

“Because I know where to get more information on this curse.” He quickly spelled the information from the book onto the parchment and headed out of the library. He handed the quill back to Madam Pomfrey on the way out and they returned to his office.

Snape took a handful of glittering green powder from the box on the mantle piece and threw it down. He stepped into the flames and shouted his destination. The green flames spun and whirled him around, and in seconds he was stepping from the fireplace in his library.

Without waiting for Lupin to emerge from the fire himself, he headed off to the ‘M’ section of the library. He ran his finger along the spines of the books, finally locating one entitled, ‘Mind Altering Spells, Hexes, and Curses.’

It was Dark Arts, some of the very worst kinds of it. Wizards believed that using spells to mess around with others’ minds, even Muggles, was one of the worst things to do to someone.

That was the reason the Cruciatus and Imperius were so heavily restricted, as well as any other spell that altered someone’s mind. But some wizards just liked using that kind of torture.

Like the Malfoys, he thought with disgust.

He took the book over to a chair by the fireplace, where Lupin was looking around with a confused look upon his face.

“There you are,” started Lupin, but Snape held up a hand for him to be silent. He sat down and bean flipping through the book.

There. He read through the passage slowly and methodically, taking in every detail about the spell.

Created in 1765 by Ishnalda Gapnirk, this spell is heavily restricted by the Ministry as a Dark Arts spell.

Having the victim be completely still is a must for the curse to work properly, as it is very difficult to cast.

If used properly, the spell will block off the parts of the victim’s memory that the caster doesn’t wish to be there and replaces them with whatever the caster chooses. This usually causes great changes in the victim’s persona. The changes will become permanent if the spell is left on for an extended period of time.

To reverse the spell, the caster must have the victim in a place he/she feels comfortable, then the incantation, ‘Revirement un esprit remaniement’ must be cast upon the victim.

“I found it,” said Snape, breathing a sigh of relief. There wasn’t much there, but it was enough to help Harry.

“What?” said Lupin, putting a book he had been perusing back on the shelf and coming over to Snape.

“There’s a counter-curse. We need to get Harry and take him back to my quarters at Hogwarts. He has a room of his own in there,” said Snape as he pointed out the passage to Lupin.

“Back to Hogwarts now, I presume?” asked Lupin.

“Of course,” said Snape as he marked the page with the piece of parchment and stood up to walk over to the fireplace. They Floo’ed back to Snape’s office.

“Do you still have your map?” asked Snape.

“Yes,” said Lupin as he held up the folded parchment.

“Good, now where’s Harry?” Lupin unfolded the parchment, and then they pored over the it, finally finding Harry outside, near the lake.

“Let’s go get him,” said Snape. They headed out with Lupin keeping one eye on the parchment in case Harry decided to move from where he was.

When they got outside, the sky was just beginning to darken. They needed to hurry, otherwise they would lose Harry in the dark.

“There he is,” said Lupin quietly as they spotted Harry sitting by a tree, staring out at the lake.

“I’m going to have to stun him,” whispered Snape. “We can’t risk getting into a duel with him.” They needed to be careful. If Harry noticed them…. He was dangerous in this state, there was no telling what he could do. They crept over and Snape pulled his wand out.

“Stupefy,” he whispered and Harry fell to the side, unconscious.

~Harry’s POV~

Harry awoke to a pounding headache, but for the first time in days, his head felt clear. He moaned softly as he sat up and surveyed his surroundings.

Oh God, he thought as he found that he was in his room in Snape’s quarters. He covered his face with his hands and stifled a groan as he remembered how he’d treated his father. He’d been horrible to Snape. He couldn’t believe he’d done that.

But he deserved it, whispered a tiny voice. He wouldn’t leave you alone, always nagging--

Stop it, Harry ordered. He’s supposed to do that.

There is such a thing as too much, said the voice.

No, there’s not, not when you’re family, Harry insisted. Stop it.

He buried his face in his hands. How the hell had Malfoy managed to get the best of him?

You disobeyed your father. You tossed his rules aside like they were trash and then went and got yourself in trouble. You say you think so highly of him, yet you disregard his rules in an instant if they stop you from getting your own way.

Dammit, he wanted to deny it, but he knew it was true. He had completely disregarded Snape’s rules, and gotten himself cursed by Malfoy. There was no way around the truth. The predicament he’d gotten into was his fault. His, and his alone. There was no denying that.

Suddenly the door opened and Harry looked up with overly-bright eyes. It was Snape. Harry wanted to curl up and disappear rather than face him.

“Harry,” started Snape as he walked towards him. No, he could not deal with this right now.

“Can you please just leave me alone for a while?” asked Harry in a voice thick with emotion. Snape kept coming closer, though.

“Please,” begged Harry. He didn’t want to break down in front of Snape. Not like this. He didn’t deserve to have Snape put everything aside for him, not after what he’d done.

“As you wish,” said Snape gruffly. He retreated back to the hallway and closed the door gently behind him. Harry stared at the door with sorrowful eyes.

Push them all away and no one can get hurt, whispered the voice. Harry buried his face in his pillows and felt tears streak down his face. Why did life always have to be so hard for him?

~Snape’s POV~

Snape paced back and forth in his study. The spell must still be affecting Harry, judging by the way he’d reacted when he’d checked up on him.

He’d just have to give Harry time. That was all they needed. Harry would be fine, he told himself firmly.

But he feared this was the stressor that would push Harry over the edge again. He sighed and dropped into a leather chair by the fire.

He would do anything to help Harry. But would Harry let him? The way he’d acted, Snape wasn’t so sure he would.

After about an hour of trying to grade the rest of the essays, he gave up and went to check on Harry.

He slowly opened the door and found Harry face down on his bed, fast asleep. He carefully pulled the blankets over Harry, the top-most one of which was the one he’d given Harry so many weeks before.

He jumped back quickly as Harry sighed and shifted in his sleep. Harry rolled over and clutched the blanket to him as though it were a lifeline. Snape backed out of the room and left Harry to sleep.

The next morning, when Snape went to wake Harry up, he found Harry out of bed already, reading a book at his desk. Harry didn’t look up when he heard the door, just continued reading as though his book were the only thing in the world.

“Harry?” said Snape. Harry ignored him and turned another page.

“Harry?” This time Harry did reply, though he didn’t look up from the book.

“Hmmm?”

“I thought you’d like to return to Gryffindor Tower before breakfast,” said Snape.

“Yeah, that would be good,” said Harry as he carefully marked the page in his book and put it down. “Can I go now?”

He sounded eager to leave, a bit too eager, thought Snape. Nonetheless, he couldn’t make Harry stay down here.

“Yes,” said Snape. “You can use the exit from my office.”

He led Harry to the exit and out through it. Harry left his office without so much as a look back.

Time, thought Snape. He had to give Harry time.

~Harry’s POV~

Harry walked upstairs feeling as though he was in a fog. He didn’t understand what was going on with him. It had to be those damned voices. They seemed to be controlling both his mind and body.

At times, he had control, but most of the time, it was them. Like that book. Snape was going to kill him if he knew what he’d been reading.

It wasn’t as thought it was Dark Arts, whispered the voice.

Yes, it was, he thought furiously.

Well, if you’re going to get technical, then we’ll just say it was borderline Dark Arts, conceded the voices.

Borderline, my arse, thought Harry angrily.

Then he was falling, back into the shadows that filled his mind.

Shadows

Something about that stirred his mind into action once more, but mere seconds later, it was gone, and he was trapped once more within the darkness of his mind.

He was forced to watch through his own eyes as he ignored his friends in the Common Room and walked up to the dormitory. He changed and got his books for classes.

Must keep up pretences, said the voices at Harry’s confusion. Yeah, right. They hadn’t bothered to do so before, so why now? What was different this time?

He could see vague images of his father’s concerned face as he waved his wand over him, but couldn’t make out much more than that. He didn’t notice as the voices suddenly left his mind again, nor did he notice as he fell headlong down a flight of stairs…….

He awoke with another headache and whispers all around him.

“….Could have been killed.”

“It’s amazing he wasn’t hurt worse.”

Madam Pomfrey’s pompous voice suddenly broke through the quiet chatter.

“Out, all of you! I have patients to tend to.” There was quiet grumbling, and then receding footsteps.

“I believe it’s time for you to wake up, Mr. Potter,” said Madam Pomfrey.

Harry opened his eyes and sat up. He was immediately handed a goblet full of something foul-smelling.

“Drink it all, then you’re free to go after a bit more rest,” said Madam Pomfrey. Harry gagged slightly as he drank the disgusting concoction.

“There, that wasn’t so bad, now was it?” said Madam Pomfrey as she took the goblet back. “Another half hour of rest and you may go.”

Harry settled back against the pillows, preparing for a half hour of boredom. Though for Harry, that was not meant to be.

The hospital wing doors opened and admitted Snape not minutes after Madam Pomfrey retreated to her office. Snape stood awkwardly by his bed and looked down at him.

“I must apologize,” he said stiffly.

“For what?” asked Harry incredulously. Snape apologizing? Apparently, hell had chosen today to freeze over.

“I should not have let you leave so soon this morning. You should have, at the very least, been examined by Madam Pomfrey before returning to classes. Therefore, it is my fault that you are in here now, and for that, I apologize.”

Harry was stunned by this, he couldn’t remember much of what had happened while the voices were in control, but he had a vague recollection that he’d been unspeakable rude to Snape. If anyone should be apologizing, it should be him.

“You don’t have to apologize for anything,” said Harry. “It was my fault, but there’s these--”

He was suddenly stopped from continuing. He had a strange feeling, like he’d just been jolted with electricity. The same thing he’d felt after Malfoy had tied him up in the Room of Requirement and cast the Cruciatus Curse on him. But after that, the memory was blurred. All he remembered was seeing a jet of light shoot towards him, and then the electrical shock from it.

He stared up with wide eyes at his father. How was it he couldn’t control himself? What had Malfoy done to him? Harry fought for control, but received another shock for his trouble.

“Harry?” questioned Snape. “What were you saying?”

“Nothing,” said Harry quickly.

It wasn’t nothing! He had to tell his father, let him know that it wasn’t him talking! He had to fight this. He couldn’t let the voices take over. He had to fight. He had to keep on fighting. He wouldn’t let Malfoy win.

~Snape’s POV~

Snape grew worried as he saw a determined gleam come into Harry’s eyes. He didn’t like what this spell was doing to Harry. Had the counter-curse even worked? From the way Harry was acting, he didn’t think it had.

Why, though? He had done all the book had said to, yet it hadn’t worked. Damn. He was just going to have to take Harry back to his quarters and try it again.

After a quick discussion with Madam Pomfrey, he returned to Harry’s bedside.

“Come on Harry. We’re going back to my quarters,” said Snape. Harry didn’t move.

“We?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Snape firmly. “We are going to my quarters.”

“And if I don’t want to?” asked Harry.

“Then I shall have to take you by force,” answered Snape.

“Take me by force,” repeated Harry. “Sure, and I’m the Easter Bunny.”

Snape was not amused, though he knew that it wasn’t really Harry speaking.

“You are coming with me. Now let’s go,” said Snape. Harry muttered a few foul comments under his breath, but got up nonetheless.

Snape led the way back to his office while keeping a close watch on Harry in case he decided to try and run off. They entered his office and Snape quickly shut the door behind them.

As he was about to open the secret entrance that led to his quarters, he noticed movement from the corner of his eye.

He turned to find Harry leaned against a wall, his eyes closed and his limbs shaking. He looked like the was going to collapse.

Not wasting time, he grabbed Harry’s arm and led him over to a chair, despite Harry’s feeble protests and attempts to shake him off.

“Harry, what’s wrong?” asked Snape.

“I don’t know,” cried Harry. “I think they’re--” He was cut off as a spasm of pain wracked his body.

“Who?” pressed Snape.

“I can’t tell you,” said Harry. “They won’t let me.”

They.

Snape thought for a minute and decided that they must be part of the spell. He placed his hands on Harry’s shoulders and looked directly in his eyes.

“Listen to me, Harry. Whoever they are, they’re part of a spell Draco Malfoy put on your to control you. They’re making you do all those things and hurting you. I’m going to try the counter-curse again, okay?”

Harry nodded, his emerald eyes wide and fearful. He suddenly gasped and his eyes rolled back into his head. His body went limp in Snape’s arms and he sagged against Snape.

“Shite,” Snape swore. He put an arm around Harry’s shoulders and one under his knees and picked him up. He opened the secret entrance and carefully walked through it.

Rather than go all the way to Harry’s room, he laid Harry down on a large couch and Summoned Harry’s blanket from his room.

He covered Harry with it and began pacing back and forth. He didn’t want to try the spell with Harry unconscious. He had no idea what it was doing to Harry now.

He didn’t like this feeling of helplessness he had. He wanted to be able to do something, anything for Harry. But there wasn’t anything he could do until Harry woke back up.

Harry whimpered softly from the couch and Snape was at his side in an instant, watching to see if he was waking up.

Harry’s face scrunched up and then he cried out as his body jerked violently. His breathing became loud as he convulsed on the couch.

Did this mean the spell was finally coming undone? He began speaking softly, encouraging Harry to fight.

“Come on, Harry. You can do it. Fight the spell. Don’t let them win.”

Tears streaked out of the corners of Harry’s clenched eyes. Snape took hold of Harry’s hands and squeezed tightly.

“I’m here, Harry,” he said softly. “I’m not leaving you.” Harry’s arms shook, but he squeezed back.

“Good, Harry. Stay with me,” said Snape quietly. Harry let out another cry of pain, then settled down. His breathing quieted and his body relaxed.

Harry cracked open pain-weary eyes and uttered one word before passing out again.

“Dad.”

“Thank Merlin,” said Snape softly as he wrapped the blanket around Harry and picked him up again to take him to his bedroom. He laid Harry down carefully on his bed and tucked him in.

As he turned to leave, he noticed the book that Harry had been reading that morning.

The Curses None of Your Teachers Will Teach You, read the title.

Where had Harry gotten this? He flipped it open and saw that it wasn’t one of Hogwarts’ books. Harry must have ordered it through Owl Post, then. He took the book with him and went to his potions lab to collect a few potions for Harry.

Harry would be fine now, he was sure of it.

Harry awoke feeling groggy and disoriented. He rubbed his forehead and looked around to see where he was.

How had he gotten here, he wondered as he saw that he was in his room in Snape’s quarters. He heard a creak as the door opened, but he didn’t bother looking to see who it was. He had no energy left to move anymore.

“Harry?” It was Snape.

“I’m awake,” yawned Harry as he shifted slightly.

“Good,” said Snape. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” said Harry. “What am I doing down here?” Snape looked at him critically.

“You don’t remember?”

“Well, the last thing I remember is that damned-- Oh God, does everyone know about that?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so,” said Snape. “You were saying?”

“After I left the Tower, everything is kind of fuzzy,” said Harry.

“Well, to shorten the story, Draco Malfoy put a spell on you that took away your free will,” said Snape. “You were like that for about a week. The counter curse finally worked.” Harry rubbed at his head again.

“That accounts for this headache, I supposed,” he muttered.

“I’ve got potions,” said Snape, reaching into his robes and drawing out a vial of darkly-colored liquid. He handed it to Harry, who drank it gratefully then Snape looked appraisingly at him.

“What?” asked Harry.

“I’m just ascertaining whether you’ll be needing any of the rest of these potions,” replied Snape.

“Umm, no, I think I’ll be fine for now. My headache’s gone, I’m just a little tired, that’s all,” said Harry.

“Are you sure?” asked Snape.

“Do you enjoy handing out those foul concoctions all the time?” quipped Harry.

“I’d like to see you well and not in need of them,” replied Snape. “And if that means giving you potions, then yes.”

His black-eyed gaze made Harry feel as though there was something he’d done or said to make the man angry.

“Is there anything else I’ve done that I can’t remember?” asked Harry confusedly.

“No, everything is fine. Why do you ask?” asked Snape.

“I don’t know. You’re standing there like I’m a potion about to explode or something, so I think I’ve got a right to ask!” burst Harry.

“Believe me, it’s not something you’ve done,” said Snape, sounding a bit irritated. “Why don’t you get some more rest?”

“But I don’t want to sleep,” protested Harry. “I want to know what’s wrong with you.”

“That is none of your concern,” said Snape. “Now get some rest.” He walked over to the door.

“Call me if you need me,” he said before shutting the door with a snap.

Damn. Snape’s visit had rendered him unable to sleep. His body still felt weary, but his mind was wide-awake and alert. What had the Potions Master on edge? Something had to have happened. And whatever it was, it was bound to be something bad.

He sighed, and with some effort, managed to roll onto his side. He stared at the wall across from him, feeling completely apathetic. Soon, his eyelids began to droop, and then, he was asleep.

When he awoke, the room was dark and hot. He was sweating profusely under the suffocating heat of his blankets. He kicked out weakly and managed to push the blankets down past his legs. The cooler air felt good on his sweaty skin.

It was surprisingly hot in the dungeons, though, even with the blankets off, unless it was just him that was hot. No, it couldn’t just be him.

~Snape’s POV~

Snape woke in the middle of the night with the feeling that something was amiss. He lit his wand and inspected his room carefully, but there was nothing out of the ordinary there. Yet he couldn’t shake that unsettling feeling that something wasn’t right.

He put on his dressing gown and headed down to Harry’s room. He opened the door as quietly as possible and peeked into Harry’s room.

Harry was lying curled up slightly on his side and had somehow managed to kick his blankets to the foot of his bed.

Snape went over to fix the blankets, but when he started to pull them up, Harry mumbled, “No.”

Snape turned and held his wand so he could see Harry clearly. He saw that Harry’s face was flushed and his skin covered in a light sheen of sweat.

“Harry?” questioned Snape worriedly. Harry just moaned softly and dragged an arm up to cover his eyes from the wand light. Snape hesitated for a second then placed his hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“What’s wrong with me?” asked Harry quietly.

“It’s most likely the after-affect of the curse, probably amplified by your attempts to resist it,” said Snape. Well, that was the most probable explanation, anyways.

He released Harry’s shoulder and cast a quick spell on the blankets so that they would help regulate Harry’s temperature, covered Harry with them, and then headed out of the room.

“Where are you going?” croaked Harry.

“To get you some potions,” replied Snape as he made his way out of Harry’s room.

It was odd how the curse had affected Harry, thought Snape. The book hadn’t said anything about that. Well, there was a lot that the book hadn’t told him. Like the seizures Harry had had as the curse was expelled from his body. The delay after he had used the counter-curse on Harry.

He wondered what book that curse had originally come from. Perhaps a store in Knockturn Alley.

That didn’t matter right now, though. What mattered was getting Harry well again.

He reached his laboratory and selected a few potions. He then returned to Harry’s room, where he found Harry staring apathetically at the wall across from him.

“Harry?” said Snape quietly. Harry didn’t respond.

“Harry?” he tried again.

“Mmmm,” mumbled Harry.

“I’ve got potions for you,” said Snape.

Harry extended a hand behind him, but didn’t move any more than that.

“Aren’t you going to sit up?” asked Snape.

“No,” replied Harry. Snape sighed and put the potion in Harry’s hand and closed his fingers around it. Harry brought his arm back around and drank the potion, then handed the vial back, all without moving his body at all.

“Do you want me to leave you to rest?” asked Snape.

Harry made a non-committal noise.

“I’ll just go then,” said Snape.

~Harry’s POV~

Harry rolled onto his back, not caring whether Snape stayed or left. He felt horribly hot and sick, and neither the potion nor the charmed blankets were helping any.

The blankets just felt heavy, like they were smothering him, and he wanted them off, but he couldn’t muster up the strength to move any more.

He soon slipped into sleep, but even that wasn’t a relief to him.

Horrifying visions of silver eyes followed him everywhere, delving into his mind, making him feel so exposed, so helpless. He wasn’t safe anywhere, not even in his own mind. Malfoy had proved that.

He was running, running through a dark forest barefoot. He could feel springy grass under his feet and felt thing branches tear viciously at his skin as he ran.

He couldn’t stop running, though. Something, no someone, was following him. If he stopped they would kill him. He couldn’t stop.

Can’t stop can’t stop.

It became a mantra in his head as he ran.

Can’t stop can’t stop.

The person pursuing him drew nearer. Harry was beginning to tire, but he had to keep going.

Can’t stop can’t stop.

He ran faster, pushing himself to his limit, but the person was even closer now. Suddenly, his foot caught on a branch lying on the ground and he was thrown forward several feet.

No no no no, he thought as he scrambled to his feet. He went crashing back down to the ground, his ankle unable to support him any more.

Shite, he gasped as he clawed at the ground, trying in vain to keep going.

Can’t stop can’t stop.

He had to try and keep going. Then, the soft grass turned needle-sharp. It stabbed viciously through his skin as he struggled. His hands quickly became stained by crimson blood.

No no no no no, his mind screamed as he turned to face his pursuer. He screamed out loud as silver eyes came into focus, only this time, it was Draco and Lucius Malfoy.

They both leveled their wands at Harry, who scrambled backwards, his skin being pierced by hundreds of sharp points.

He stopped, transfixed in horror, as the two incanted “Avada Kedavra,” together and a single beam of twisting green light shot towards him.

He gasped and found himself sitting bolt upright in bed, his hands planted firmly on either side of him, holding himself upright. He had another slight headache, but he felt much better than he had felt before falling asleep.

He eased himself back down and tried to settled his racing heart.

“Good morning, Harry,” said Snape cheerfully as he entered the room and spelled it a bit brighter. He carried a tray with a steaming bowl of something.

Harry immediately began to protest. He wasn’t ready for food yet.

“No, no food, please,” groaned Harry. Snape looked doubtful.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes, very,” said Harry emphatically. Snape frowned and set the tray on Harry’s desk.

“Perhaps you can eat a bit later,” said Snape as he came over to feel Harry’s head. Harry batted his hands away.

“Merlin, I’m not three years old,” said Harry in annoyance.

“I need to be sure you’re better before letting you leave again,” said Snape.

“I feel fine,” said Harry, who was sure not to mention the headache, which would definitely involve swallowing lots of potions, the way Snape was going off now. He was taking the term overprotective to a new level.

“How many Parenting Potions have you taken today?” asked Harry sarcastically.

“Harry, your well-being is my primary concern, and I have to be sure that you are fully recovered,” said Snape with a touch of annoyance in his voice.

“Well-being? You’re concerned about my well-being?” said Harry loudly. “What about getting rid of that stupid ferret, who so far this year, has managed to only attempt to kill me, bash my head in with a Bludger, and now, attempted kidnapping and that stupid curse. What else does he need to do before he’s expelled or I’m dead?”

“That is completely out of my authority, Harry, as I’ve already told you repeatedly. I can’t control whether Draco Malfoy leaves Hogwarts or gets to stay,” said Snape.

Wait a minute. Something was clicking into place in his over-wrought brain.

“Didn’t he disappear?” asked Harry.

“Yes, but---” started Snape, but he stopped, leaving Harry’s suspicions aroused.

“But what?” growled Harry. “Don’t you dare tell me that he came back and is getting to stay here!”

“Harry, you have to understand that Dumbledore is the one who is in charge of expelling students, and that it is rarely ever done,” said Snape.

Harry had heard enough. He felt well enough for a visit to Dumbledore. He crawled out of bed on the opposite side from Snape.

“What are you doing?” asked Snape.

“I’m going to see Dumbledore,” said Harry.

“No you’re not,” said Snape firmly.

“Yes I am,” shot back Harry.

“You are still recovering, and are going to sty here until you’re completely well,” said Snape.

“I don’t care,” said Harry. “This is more important.”

“No, your health is more important,” said Snape. He stood in front of the door and pulled his wand out. “Don’t make me have to restrain you,” said Snape.

“Want to try?” challenged Harry.

“If I have to, I will,” said Snape firmly.

Damn it all, he knew exactly who would win if they had to duel. Instead, he launched himself at Snape, certain the man wouldn’t know how to deal with Muggle dueling. He was wrong, though.

As soon as he saw what Harry was up to, Snape shoved his wand in his pocket and grabbed Harry. He spun him around and wrapped an arm around Harry’s torso, pinning his arms to his sides.

“You honestly presumed that I would not go through with my threat?” asked Snape.

Harry felt Snape’s wand against his chest and tried to squirm away. The man had a tight hold on him, however, and a whispered charm later, Harry was unable to move his legs at all. Snape picked him up and set him on his bed. Harry glared viciously at the man as he retreated to the doorway.

“That will wear off as soon as I close the door. I think leaving you in here alone ought to work out some of your anger. I will return once you have calmed down,” said Snape.

The instant the door closed behind Snape, Harry jumped out of bed to try the door. When it failed to open for him Harry began stomping back and forth across his room.

He knew he was acting like the obstinate three year old he’d said he wasn’t only minutes before, but he didn’t care. Snape was being entirely unfair to him.

He kicked at his trunk as he passed it, earning himself some sore toes in addition to his headache. He growled under his breath in anger. He had to get out of here.

He snatched his wand up from his bedside table and stalked over to the door. After trying all the unlocking spells he knew, he threw his wand down and kicked the door.

Great, now he had two sore feet. He threw himself down on the floor next to his trunk and glared at the door.

Vicious bastard, he thought. How dare he lock me up like this?

Unless, it wasn’t just his attitude that had gotten him locked up, it was something Snape was doing, something that he wasn’t supposed to know about. Most likely it would be here at Hogwarts, since it wasn’t safe for either of them to go anywhere alone.

Harry opened his trunk and pulled out the Marauder’s Map. It was lucky that Snape had something set up so his trunk would be in his room when he was in it. He picked up his wand from the floor and tapped the parchment with it.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” said Harry and the map instantly appeared.

He traced over the map with his wand, searching for his dot.

It appeared in a seemingly empty stretch of hallway. Of course the Marauders weren’t likely to have been able to map his dad’s quarters, even though they had held a different occupant then.

He searched around the areas nearest him, where Snape was most likely to be. When he didn’t see him, he started searching the dungeons area, until he stopped on two dots that made him sick with anger.

Draco Malfoy and Severus Snape.

What the hell was Snape doing with Malfoy? He knew what Malfoy had done to him, yet now he was somewhere alone in the dungeons with him! Fuck it all, even his father was a traitor!

Bastard, thought Harry venomously as he wiped the map clean and shoved it back into his trunk.

As he did so, he noticed a glimmer of silver that he hadn’t seen since before his return to Hogwarts. He picked up the dagger and slid it out of it’s sheath.

The blade glinted dangerously, begging to be used. He looked at the door and back to the dagger. It couldn’t hurt to try…………

~Snape’s POV~

Snape glared fiercely at the boy seated across from him in his office. The blonde-haired boy didn’t even flinch.

Desensitized already, thought Snape with disgust.

“Mr. Malfoy, though the Headmaster has generously allowed you to stay here for the remainder of your education, I am your Head of House, and therefore, I will see to any other punishments you may receive, short of expulsion. One more toe out of line though, and I will demand your expulsion. Now, I hear you love the Forbidden Forest. Or would you prefer Greenhouse Eight?”

He smirked at the boy, who looked properly cowed now. He knew he couldn’t have Malfoy expelled, but Malfoy didn’t know that. He could have plenty of fun with the boy’s punishments, though.

“You’d rather not choose? I suppose it’ll be Greenhouse Eight, then,” said Snape. Greenhouse Eight was full of strange plants, including some that would have quite interesting effects, especially on a virile sixteen-year-old boy.

“Report to the Greenhouse at six thirty sharp. I shall know if you are late,” instructed Snape. “Now get out of my sight. I’ll be seeing you more than enough over the next few months.”

Malfoy hurriedly left his office and Snape sat back in his chair with a satisfied smirk. Malfoy would be sure to know the finer points of obeying his teachers by the time his detentions were over.

Though of course, that wouldn’t make up for what he’d done to Harry. At least this would provide some deterrence for Malfoy. As long as he was occupied with his detentions, he couldn’t think of ways to torment Harry.

Speaking of which, he’d better go check on Harry again. He’d seemed better this morning, extremely grouchy and antagonistic. That was probably more vestiges of the curse.

He stood up and headed back to his quarters. When he arrived at Harry’s room, strangely, he found the door ajar.

He opened the door the rest of the way and peered inside. Harry was nowhere in sight. How had he managed to escape? There was supposed to be no way to undo the spell he’s put on the door except by the original caster.

Obviously, Harry had gotten around that somehow. Where was he now? If he came upon Malfoy in the hallways, there was sure to be a confrontation. That was not something he wanted to happen.

He went out to his study and grabbed some Floor powder.

He threw it in the fire and called, “Lupin, a word if you would!” Minutes later, the werewolf came spinning out of the fireplace.

“What do you need, Severus?” asked Lupin.

“I need to borrow your map,” said Snape.

“What for?” asked Lupin curiously.

“Harry’s run off and I need to find him before he finds Malfoy. They’ll probably end up killing each other if they meet up,” said Snape.

“Why did Harry run off, though?” asked Lupin.

“It’s a long story,” said Snape.

“And?” pressed Lupin.

“He was sick last night and I told him he couldn’t leave until he was better,” said Snape.

“Why would that make him want to leave?” asked Lupin.

“I don’t know. He also found out about Malfoy being allowed to stay,” said Snape.

“That would do it, I believe,” said Lupin. “Just give me a moment, the map is in my office.”

He stepped back through the Floo, and in minutes, was back with the parchment.

“Do be sure to return it when you’re finished,” said Lupin before returning to his own office.

Snape unfolded the parchment and found that it had already been activated for him. He searched the many corridors of Hogwarts, finally finding Harry headed down a hallway near his quarters. He must have found the other exit that led down into the dungeons.

Shite, he thought as he remembered that that particular passageway led to the Slytherin Common Room, exactly where Draco Malfoy’s dot was headed. He dropped the map on his desk and headed out to the hallway to try and stop the almost inevitable confrontation.

~Harry’s POV~

Harry walked down the hallway with his wand in hand. He knew he was somewhere near the Slytherin Common Room, and he wanted to be prepared in case he met up with one of them. Especially Malfoy.

He growled softly in his throat as he saw just that Slytherin coming towards him.

“All right there……..Snape?” asked Malfoy with a malevolent smirk.

“What are you doing back, Malfoy?” hissed Harry.

“It seems Malfoys still hold power over the Wizarding World. The Headmaster is letting me stay here,” said Malfoy gleefully. “Just my luck, more chances to get at you.”

“My father won’t let you get away with doing anything to me,” said Harry angrily. Or would he? He couldn’t be sure of anything right now.

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Look at this Potter, there’s no one around. What a perfect chance to use some more spells I’ve learned on you and not get caught,” said Malfoy. Harry narrowed his eyes at Malfoy.

“You’d get caught. I’ll tell my father,” said Harry.

“Does it look like I care?” asked Malfoy. “Besides, what happened the last time I cursed you? Just how much did you tell your precious father?”

“You wouldn’t dare,” he hissed.

“Oh, I wouldn’t would I?” asked Malfoy. He raised his wand at Harry. “Want to try me?”

Harry leveled his own wand at Malfoy.

“Bring it on.”

Harry knew it was in his best interest to get Malfoy disarmed as quickly as possible, so he opted for using Disarming Hexes first, but Malfoy wasn’t going to play so easy. He launched a large variety of curses at Harry, ones Harry had never even heard of.

Harry ducked and dodged them as best as he could, but one clipped him in the shoulder, flinging him against a wall. Luckily, it wasn’t his wand arm and he jumped to his feet and flung a Blasting Curse at Malfoy, who barely managed to duck out of its path.

Harry and Malfoy volleyed curses, spells, and hexes back and forth for a short while, until Harry spotted Snape stalking towards them. His eyes widened and his concentration on the duel wavered.

He didn’t have enough time to dodge the curse Malfoy shot at him and was slammed into the wall, sending flares of pain shooting through his left shoulder and all down his back. He slumped down to the floor and his wand fell out of his hand.

“Look at that Potter, I win,” said Malfoy gleefully, not noticing the menacing figure in black towering behind him. “Time for fun. Cruc--”

He was stopped from casting the curse because Snape incanted a Stunner. Malfoy fell to the ground, unconscious. Harry blinked his eyes, trying to clear the black spots clouding his vision.

“What……you……”

He shook his head, trying to bring Snape’s words into focus, but he couldn’t seem to do so.

“I…can’t…” he started before passing into unconsciousness.

When he woke up again, he was in the hospital wing.

Great, he thought. And Snape’ll be by in about three seconds to interrogate me about being out if his quarters.

Three…two….one….and the door to the hospital wing opened, admitting Snape.

Harry closed his eyes, feigning sleep. He didn’t want to talk to Snape, not after what he had seen on the Marauder’s Map.

His father had been meeting with Malfoy, of all people! And he had locked him in his room while he was doing it!

One big web of lies, thought Harry bitterly. Everything was one big lie. He heard a quiet scraping as a chair was brought over and Snape sat down next to his bed.

“Harry?”

Harry didn’t respond. What was the use? His father was a traitor.

Snape quietly entered the hospital wing and went over to Harry’s bed. Harry looked to be asleep, so he picked up a chair and carefully moved it to Harry’s bedside, accidentally making a soft scraping noise.

“Harry?” he said quietly, testing to see if Harry was awake or not. Harry made no response, though, so Snape resigned himself to thinking about what he’d seen Harry doing with Malfoy while he waited for Harry to wake.

Dueling, in the middle of the dungeons, with a Slytherin! Whatever had possessed him to do that?

From what he’d seen, Harry had agreed to duel Malfoy, knowing full well what could happen from it. He knew how dangerous Malfoy was, yet he did it anyways, completely disregarding his own safety in the process.

And Malfoy had willingly disobeyed the rules that had been set forth for him by Snape and Dumbledore. No less than they’d expected, but still……… He’d at least expected him to listen to them, if only for a short while.

He sighed and glanced over at his son. It appeared that Harry was waking up. Good. Now he could ask him what had possessed him to leave his quarters and get into a fight with Malfoy.

Harry sighed softly and rolled over onto his side, facing away from Snape, still seemingly asleep.

Snape tapped his fingers on his thighs and waited. Harry had to wake up sometime. Madam Pomfrey hadn’t given him any sleeping potions, just something for his shoulder and his back. He had seen the way Harry had been slammed into the wall and was sure that it had caused considerable damage. Madam Pomfrey’s potions would take care of that quickly, though.

As for Malfoy, he was getting sick of the Headmaster’s adamant refusal to expel the boy, though he knew the man had his reasons for allowing the boy to stay. He could almost hear the Headmaster speaking to him about that again.

“I’m sorry, Severus, but that decision does not rest with me alone. The entire Board of Governors has to agree as well, and you know perfectly well that even though Lucius Malfoy is not a part of them, he has them wrapped around his wand.”

Snape sighed and looked intently at his son. He was positive that Harry’s fingers had fluttered ever so slightly.

Murdering Malfoy was out of the question, but what if the boy was Portkey’ed to a deserted island and left there? He had been raised by house elves his whole life, practically nursed by them. He would certainly starve to death within a few days.

Snape smiled sardonically at the thought. The Headmaster would never let him do it, though. He didn’t think Harry would approve either, regardless of what the boy had done to him.

Most unfortunate, thought Snape. At least he could still torment Malfoy with detentions. There would be no more dueling in the hallways for him, not with all the detentions he was going to have.

But if there was another confrontation between the two boys again, he had to have a back-up plan. How could he keep Harry safe from the Slytherins? And then it hit him. What better to use against Slytherins than Gryffindors?

Harry’s Gryffindor friends would be perfect for the job of protecting Harry. The only potential problem with that was how Harry had treated them while he had been under the curse. They might refuse to help.

Just as quickly, he dismissed the thought. They were Gryffindors after all. They’d help Harry, no matter how badly he’d treated them. And once they knew what had happened to him, they would be clamoring all over each other to help him.

Pathetic, really, but it was true. Gryffindors were pathetic in their ability to perceive danger and then throw themselves into the middle of it, no matter what the expense was to themselves. As long as they were helping someone else, they didn’t care.

Harry was trained to do the same thing. That was what had led him to save the Sorcerer’s Stone, Ginny Weasley from the Chamber of Secrets, his godfather, take the Tri-Wizard cup with Cedric Diggory, and ultimately led to his godfather’s death in the Department of Mysteries. It was saving-people thing, ingrained in every Gryffindor.

Bloody noble Gyffindors, thought Snape. Always having to do what was right.

He was going to have to go find them while Harry was still in the hospital wing. He stood and lightly brushed his hand over Harry’s shoulder.

“I’ll be back in little while,” said Snape quietly and headed off to find the Gryffindors.

~Harry’s POV~

Once the door had closed behind Snape, Harry shuddered and sat up. Snape was a fucking arsehole. The nerve he had, coming in here after being with Draco Malfoy, and touching him.

Harry scooted a leg up and rested his chin on his knee. How could his father betray him? Why had he felt the need to abandon Harry so completely?

Harry looked down, his throat growing uncomfortably tight, and picked at the striped bedspread, wanting to cry. He was alone…..again.

Harry sat there miserably for some time, until Madam Pomfrey came out of her office and over to his bed. After a final check up, she let him leave the hospital wing.

Surprisingly, when he opened the door to leave, he found Ron and Hermione walking down the corridor towards the hospital wing.

“What are you doing here?” asked Harry.

“Well, we were going to visit you, but since you’re released, we’ll just walk with you back to the Tower,” said Hermione.

“Okay,” said Harry. The trio was silent during the walk up to the Tower.

When they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, Hermione gave the password, “Phoenix tear,” and they went inside. Harry received quite a few shocked looks, and not a few glares.

“What is everyone’s problem?” asked Harry as they crossed the room to where Ginny had saved them seats by the fire.

“Harry, you scared them after what you did to Michael Corner,” said Ron.

“What did I do to him?” asked Harry confusedly. He couldn’t remember doing anything to Michael, though he had a blurry image of dueling someone.

“You can’t remember? We all know he’s an evil git, but you nearly killed him!” said Ron loudly. Hermione quickly shushed him.

“Ron! You don’t need to have them scaring the first years!” she chided.

“I can’t remember that,” admitted Harry. “Everything after leaving here is kind of blurry.” Hermione reached out and touched his knee.

“We’re really sorry we made you so mad, but we didn’t want to risk telling you about that article,” she said quietly.

“Everyone wants to keep things from me. Why can’t they realize that I can do better with more information, not less?” asked Harry. Snape was keeping things from him too.

At least his friends weren’t traitors like his father, thought Harry bitterly.

“They’re only trying to help,” said Ginny quietly.

“Help, sure,” said Harry resignedly. He couldn’t take any more of this staring. He stood up and started towards the winding staircase that led to the boys’ dormitory.

“Where are you going?” asked Ron.

“Upstairs, I’m sick of people staring at me,” said Harry shortly.

“I’ll go with you,” volunteered Ron eagerly, perhaps a little too eagerly.

“No, you stay down here,” said Harry as he walked over to the stairs, but Ron jumped up and followed him. Harry sighed and headed up with Ron following.

His trunk was back at the foot of his bed, and after a quick glance at Ron, who was rooting around his own trunk, Harry felt under his shirt to check that his dagger was still there.

It was, and Harry knelt by his trunk and carefully snuck it back inside. He carefully pulled some clothes over it, closed his trunk, and stood up. He then seated himself on his bed and looked over at Ron, who was munching on a Chocolate Frog.

“What--” he started to say, but was interrupted by the opening of the dormitory door.

Harry nearly groaned out loud as Hermione and Ginny entered the circular room and came over to the boys. Ginny curled up at the foot of Harry’s bed and Hermione situated herself on Ron’s.

“What are you two doing up here?” asked Harry.

“It was boring in the Common Room,” said Ginny. Harry looked suspiciously at them. Why were his friends acting so strangely?

They seemed to be trying to keep him within their sights at all times. Well, if they were planning on doing that, then he wasn’t going to make it that easy. He didn’t need any babysitters.

He got off of his bed and walked out of the dormitory and out through the Common Room. He made sure his wand was within easy reach as he headed down to the Room of Requirement.

He heard Ron, Hermione and Ginny call his name several times as they followed him, but didn’t bother turning back.

When he got to the corridor to the Room of Requirement, he paced back and forth, thinking of a room where he couldn’t be found by anyone.

A plain wooden door appeared and he walked through it. He shut the door firmly behind himself and seated himself on a squashy blue couch.

He scooted down farther and rested his head on the armrest. This would be a long wait. Soon, he found himself drifting off to sleep……..

~Snape’s POV~

Snape sat in his study, Lupin’s map spread before him. Ron and Hermione were sure to do a more than adequate job of watching Harry, but with this, he could be sure of Harry’s safety.

He watched Ron and Hermione’s dots go to the hospital wing, where Harry’s dot moved only slightly. Madam Pomfrey’s dot moved over to Harry’s, and after a few minutes, Harry’s dot moved and met up with Ron and Hermione’s dots outside of the hospital wing.

The trio walked up to Gryffindor Tower and then stopped next to Ginny Weasley in their Common Room.

About five minutes later, Harry’s dot moved again, followed by Ron Weasley. Harry and Ron went upstairs to their dormitory. Hermione and Ginny followed them minutes later.

Hermione’s dot settled down next to Ron, and Ginny’s next to Harry. After a minute or two, Harry’s dot headed for the door.

Snape watched in fascination as Harry moved purposefully and quickly down the stairs and out of the Gryffindor Common Room.

'Where did he think he was going?' Snape wondered. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny followed quickly behind him.

Snape watched them travel down the winding corridors, until Harry’s dot got way ahead of the others’. He moved back and forth, and then, suddenly, his dot vanished.

Snape’s blood ran cold as he stared at the map in disbelief. Harry couldn’t have vanished, the map had to malfunctioning. Lupin, he had to contact Lupin.

He half-stumbled to the fireplace and threw a handful of Floo powder in with shaking hands.

“Lupin, I need you here immediately,” he called. He returned to his desk to look at the map once more, double-checking to see if Harry really had disappeared. Harry’s dot was still missing. Lupin emerged from the fireplace and walked over to him.

“What do you need Severus?” asked Lupin calmly.

Snape thrust the parchment at Lupin and said as calmly as he could manage, “Your map is malfunctioning.” Lupin took the map and examined it.

“It’s working just fine, as far as I can tell.”

“It can’t be,” protested Snape.

“Why do you think it’s malfunctioning?” asked Lupin.

“Harry, he just vanished off of it,” said Snape, his voice cracking slightly.

“What?” asked Lupin, his eyes wide with shock.

“He’s gone,” said Snape, the words breaking him up inside.

“Severus, if there’s one thing we knew for sure about that map, it was that it never lies. If Harry’s vanished off the map, then it can’t find him. There’s a good chance he’s not even on the grounds anymore. Though, of course, there are places that we don’t have on the map. Ones that we didn’t know about when we made it,” said Lupin.

“Where are those places?” asked Snape instantly.

“Well, where was Harry when he disappeared?” asked Lupin. Snape pointed out the place, where the trio of Gryffindors was now prowling about, searching for Harry.

You won’t find him there, he wanted to scream at them.

“Looks like that’s about where the Room of Requirement is,” said Lupin. “Do you want to go look around?”

“Of course I want to look around, you bloody idiot,” snapped Snape.

“No need to get all nasty about it,” muttered Lupin.

“He’s not your son,” said Snape as he brushed past Lupin to lead the way out of his quarters.

Once they were well on their way to the Room of Requirement, Lupin chanced another guess at what had happened to Harry.

“You don’t think that Malfoy put a Portkey on Harry when they were dueling?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Snape, not even wanting to entertain that horrifying idea.

“It is a possibility, though,” said Lupin.

“Not in my mind,” said Snape. Malfoy wouldn’t dare try to remove Harry from Hogwarts, would he? Lupin just shook his head silently and they continued on their way.

When they reached the corridor where the Room of Requirement was, they spotted the three Gryffindors wandering around, looking confused.

As Snape approached, Hermione was muttering, “Where is it? I know it’s supposed to be right here.”

“What are you talking about, Miss Granger?” asked Snape.

“The tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. It’s supposed to be here somewhere and it’s gone,” said Hermione.

Just like Harry, thought Snape.

“And Harry, he’s vanished too. We can’t find him anywhere,” added Ginny.

“Are you certain you have looked everywhere he could be?” asked Snape, horrified to find a hint of desperation in his voice.

“Yes, sir,” said Hermione.

Snape stalked past them and began examining the hallway closely. After a close look at both sides, he found no traces of the missing tapestry. Indeed, it was like it had never been there.

The castle’s paintings and tapestries were known to move occasionally, but they were never too far away from their original locations. This tapestry had vanished completely, just like Harry.

~Harry’s POV~

Harry awoke drowsily. He was startled by his surroundings for a minute, then remembered that he was in the Room of Requirement.

Harry wondered how much longer it would take for them to come here and search. They’d be sure to know this was where he was hiding. Them and Snape.

Everyone was being too overprotective of him. First Snape and now his friends.

Harry’s mouth dropped open in shock as he realized the truth. His friends had to be doing this on Snape’s orders.

He couldn’t believe his friends had betrayed him too. He didn’t think that they would abandon him too.

It’s always the ones you least expect, thought Harry with a twinge of bitterness.

No one was loyal to him. They would turn on him in a moment’s notice if they thought that they would be better served by going against him.

He couldn’t have anything of his own. No family, no friends, no one.

Well, he wasn’t going to play by the rules anymore. From now on, he was going to play his own game, by his own rules. He didn’t need anyone else. He could do this on his own.

He stood up and marched determinedly to the door. Grasping the handle firmly, he threw the door open and stared coldly at the small crowd of figures looking confused.

~Snape’s POV~

Snape stared at a blank patch of wall, willing a door or the tapestry to appear upon it. Suddenly, he heard a creak from behind him and spun around. He stared in shock as Harry stepped out and looked coldly at them all.

Snape crossed the hallway in a few short strides and reached out to hug Harry, saying, “Merlin, Harry, we were so worried when you disappeared,” but Harry jumped away from him.

“Don’t you fucking touch me,” snarled Harry.

“Harry, what’s wrong with you?” asked Snape.

“Wrong?” gasped Harry. “You have the nerve to ask me what’s wrong? I saw you with him.”

“Who?” asked Snape confusedly.

“Malfoy,” said Harry angrily. “I saw you two together. You’re a traitor, that’s what you are. Just get the hell away from me.”

Snape was baffled by Harry’s accusations, but realized that Harry must have seen the meeting with Malfoy in his office with his map.

“Harry, you’ve gotten the wrong impression from that,” said Snape calmly.

“No, I didn’t! I know what I saw!” said Harry loudly.

“You don’t understand,” said Snape. “I am Head of Slytherin House, of which Mr. Malfoy is a part of. I am in charge of his punishment.”

“What?” asked Harry in shock.

“We were meeting to take care of his first detention,” said Snape. Harry shook his head.

“No, I know what I saw,” he said firmly. Snape turned to the other three Gryffindors.

“Perhaps you should go back to your dormitory now. I can see Harry and I need to have a discussion,” he said to them. They murmured their assent and moved off.

Snape reached out for Harry’s arm, but Harry shrank back from him and shook his head.

“Harry, I need to talk to you where we do not risk being overheard,” said Snape quietly. Harry bit his lip and looked down.

Perhaps Lupin could be of some use in this, thought Snape.

“Lupin, will he go with you? We need to talk to the Headmaster. Harry deserves some answers from him,” said Snape. Lupin stepped towards Harry.

“Harry, will you come with me?” asked Lupin quietly. Harry took a silent step forward and Lupin took his arm.

“Good, now let’s go see the Headmaster.”

Snape walked silently behind them. Harry didn’t trust him at all right now, and he deserved to know what had been going on. He was going to make damned sure the Headmaster told Harry the truth.

Up in the Headmaster’s office, Snape sat beside Lupin, with Harry on Snape’s right, as far away from Snape as he could.

“I want you to tell him, Headmaster,” said Snape firmly.

“Severus, I can’t tell him everything,” said Dumbledore.

“I don’t care,” said Snape. “I want him to know why he’s been subjected to Draco Malfoy’s torment for the last few weeks instead of him being expelled for all he’s already done to Harry.”

Dumbledore looked pained, but resigned. He looked at Harry and laced his fingers together on the desk.

“Draco Malfoy must remain at Hogwarts for two reasons, Harry,” started Dumbledore. “First of all, the Board of Governors would never consent to his expulsion. All twelve of them must agree to it, and with Lucius Malfoy around, they will not do it.” Harry stared impassively at Dumbledore. Snape had to admit, Dumbledore’s next confession shocked even him.

“The other reason, I’m afraid is purely selfish on my part. I have it on good understanding that Mr. Malfoy is now a Death Eater. I am hoping that before he gets in too far, he will see reason and want out.”

“What?” Harry jumped to his feet, his eyes blazing. “That has got to be one of the stupidest things I’ve ever heard!”

“Harry!” hissed Snape sharply, but Harry kept going.

“Look what that arsehole did to me! He’s nothing but Voldemort’s latest boot-licker! He’ll never change, not matter what happens!”

Harry had been inching forward during his tirade, as though he were going to attack the Headmaster, so Snape stood and held Harry’s upper arms. He gently tugged Harry backwards.

“I’m very sorry, Harry,” said Dumbledore “But I have to allow him to stay.”

~Harry’s POV~

All of a sudden, Harry felt as though he couldn’t hold himself up. He sagged against his father, unable to comprehend what Dumbledore had said. He couldn’t believe it, wouldn’t let himself believe it. Dumbledore was hoping Malfoy would change?

'Fat chance of that happening,' thought Harry. That would never happen. Draco Malfoy was pure evil and would stay that way, no matter what happened to him in Voldemort’s service.

Thank Merlin his father was there to hold him upright. He would have collapsed to the floor if it hadn’t been for Snape.

Snape began tugging him gently towards the door. Harry’s feet moved automatically with him. Lupin stood also and followed them to the door.

Outside of Dumbledore’s office, before they headed down the spiral staircase, Snape pulled Harry close into a tight hug. Harry squeezed back tightly, unable to put into words how sorry he was for thinking badly of his father.

He knew what Snape had risked by ordering Dumbledore around. He was overwhelmingly grateful to him for doing that for him. This was his father, and he wouldn’t give him up for the world.

Snape finally released him and said, “We still need to have a chat.” Harry nodded and looked down. The trio headed down the staircase.

At the bottom, Lupin said, “I think I’ll go back to my office now. Feel free to Floo if you need me.” He stood in front of Harry and looked carefully at him.

“Are you going to be all right, Harry?”

Harry nodded silently, his eyes wide.

“You’re sure?” asked Lupin.

“Yeah,” said Harry softly.

“Okay,” said Lupin and walked off. Snape wrapped an arm around Harry’s shoulders and began leading him down to his office.

“Let’s go have that talk,” said Snape quietly.

Harry walked with him, knowing this would not be as bad as he thought it would be. Though his life was fated to be like this, everything would be all right in the end. He had his father now, and for now, that was all that mattered.

Snape was leading Harry down a flight of stairs when Harry suddenly stumbled and landed hard on the stairs. Harry shook his head, trying to rid himself of the strange disorientation that had come over him. He blinked his eyes and tried to focus on Snape, who was now sitting on the stairs beside him.

“Harry, are you all right?” asked Snape.

“I don’t know,” said Harry and shook his head again.

“Do you think you can make it to my office?” Snape questioned.

“Yeah,” said Harry. His vision had cleared, though he still felt disoriented. Snape helped him to his feet and they continued downstairs. When they were nearly to his office, Snape stopped abruptly and spun Harry to face him.

“Look at me,” he commanded. Harry did so, feeling curious as to what Snape was up to.

“What?” he asked. Snape ran a thumb along Harry’s jaw line.

“Your face, it’s different,” started Snape, then swore.

“What?” asked Harry, louder than before.

“The Glamour Charm is wearing off. We’ll need to have Dumbledore reapply it.”

“No,” said Harry immediately. He had had enough of hiding his true self. Everyone knew about him being a Snape, they might as well see him for who he was. This time it was Snape’s turn to stare in confusion.

“Don’t you want the charm reapplied?” asked Snape.

“No, I don’t,” said Harry firmly. “Everyone’s read that article by now, and now, I want them to see the real me.”

“Very mature, Harry,” said Snape with a touch of pride in his voice. “Let’s just go down to my office, then.”

They made it to Snape’s office with no further interruptions or distractions. Snape directed Harry to a chair, and instead of sitting behind his desk, took the chair beside Harry and turned it to face him.

“Your impressions of me as of late have been rather distorted,” began Snape. Harry looked down at his knees, certain he was about to be lectured.

Snape’s hand under his chin brought them back eye to eye. Harry stared into Snape’s black-eyed gaze, unable to look away. He had the feeling that he was being Leglimized. Seconds later, the spell was broken, and Snape’s hand dropped back into his own lap.

“I must admit, I was quite shocked when you accused me of being a traitor,” said Snape. “I want to assure you, that no matter what, my first priority is you and that I would not abandon you for anything. Understand?”

Harry nodded silently. He couldn’t believe that he had thought so ill of Snape. Harry fidgeted slightly in his chair. He was sure that Snape would be angry about what he’d said.

“Harry, I don’t blame you for what you said. I know you have problems with trusting people, especially adults, but we can move past this and keep work on it. No other families are perfect, and neither are we. You are perfect just the way you are. Your imperfections do not make me love you any less.”

Harry was stunned by Snape’s confession. Had Snape really said that he loved him? He couldn’t recall anyone ever saying that to him before, at least, not in the way that Snape had meant it.

But, did he have to say it back now? Would Snape take it back if he didn’t?

Snape must have gotten some impression of his thoughts, because he leaned forward and said, “You don’t have to do or say anything you’re not comfortable with yet.”

“Are you sure?” asked Harry uncertainly. Snape’s deep laugh filled the room.

“Of course I’m sure, Harry,” he assured him.

Harry realized at that point that Snape truly cared about him. That was why he had had Ron and Hermione watch him. He wanted Harry to be safe when he wasn’t around to do so himself.

“Thanks dad, for everything,” he said quietly.

Snape patted his knees and said, “Come on, you’d better get back to Gryffindor Tower.” They both stood and Snape walked Harry back to the Tower.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, in class,” said Snape as Harry climbed through the portrait hole.

“Time for a shocker,” said Harry back and stepped into the Common Room. A collective gasp resounded through the room.

He distinctly heart someone whisper, “Who’s that?” The whispers grew louder and the stares more pointed until Harry felt like crawling back through, but he knew he needed to get this over with.

He walked confidently over to Ginny and sat down next to her. The girl gave a small sound of surprise, then peered closely at his face. Her lips formed into a silent, “oh.”

Harry leaned close to her and whispered, “Don’t let on that you know.” She nodded. Harry smirked and looked at the Gryffindors, who quickly looked back to whatever they had been doing. This was much more amusing than telling them the truth outright.

“I think you’re scaring them,” said Ginny quietly.

Harry shrugged. It didn’t bother him. He was used to staring and whispering. There was something else bothering him though, and that was the matter of Ron and Hermione.

He needed to have words with them. They needed to understand that he didn’t need to be watched constantly. He could take care of himself. And he could most definitely take care of Malfoy.

He had been beaten the last time he’d dueled Malfoy, but this time, he would be ready. All he needed was a few late-night trips to the Restricted Section. He’d make Malfoy pay, as long as Ron and Hermione stayed out of his way.

They better, he thought. He wasn’t going to lose his chance to get back at that little ferret.

Harry spotted Ron and Hermione entering the Common Room from the portrait hole and stood up. They met in the center of the Common Room and both Ron and Hermione’s eyes widened in shock.

“Aren’t you having the Glamour put back on, Harry?” asked Hermione. More whispers filled the room.

“That’s Harry?”

“No, it can’t be.”

“But he looks just like Snape!”

“Ignore them,” said Harry. “No, I’m not having it put back on. I’m tired of living a lie. I want everyone to see who I really am.”

“Oh, Harry,” said Hermione and started to throw her arms around him, but Harry pushed her back.

“There’s something I need to talk to the two of you about,” he said shortly. “Alone.”

“Okay,” said Ron. “The boy’s dormitory okay?”

“As long as no one else is in there,” said Harry and headed for the stairs. Inside the dormitory, with the door warded for sound, Harry confronted his two best friends.

“Why were you following me around?” asked Harry.

“Snape asked us to. He wants to keep you safe, and so do we. He explained what Malfoy did to you, and why you have to be watched,” said Hermione.

“Did you even think about the fact that I don’t want or need a babysitter?” asked Harry. “I’m not two, I know how to defend myself from arrogant little Slytherins.”

“But you can’t be safe all by yourself,” said Ron.

“Yes, I can,” said Harry firmly. “I’ll make a deal with you both, though.”

“Okay,” said Hermione uncertainly.

“I will walk with you to and from classes, but if I go off by myself, I don’t want to be followed,” said Harry. “Is that a deal?”

Ron and Hermione both gave him their affirmation.

“Good,” said Harry as he removed the silencing spell. “You can go or stay or whatever.”

He didn’t care what they did, so long as they weren’t bothering him. He was still annoyed with them. He knelt down beside his trunk and opened it.

Harry quickly rummaged though it and found several books he’d never seen before. His brow furrowed as he wondered where they had come from.

He checked the covers and saw that the books didn’t belong to Hogwarts. His own name was messily scratched into the inside covers.

The curse. He must have bough them while under the curse. Perfect reading material for getting back at Malfoy. Perhaps he wouldn’t need to visit the Restricted Section.

He looked up and discovered that Ron and Hermione were gone. That was good for him. He didn’t need them looking at these books, especially with Hermione’s thing for instantly reading any new books she came across.

He got comfortable on his bed and began to look through the books. The books didn’t tell much in the way of casting the spells, but they did have a number of spells that he would have to do further research on.

He grew horrified as he delved further into the first books and found little notes scratched into the margins.

'This would be great to use on the Ravenclaws and perhaps this could be used on Luna?' were just two of them. The notes were beside some of the worst spells he found in the book.

He wrote down the spells names on a scrap of parchment and headed to the next book. By the time he had gotten through all of them, he was fairly sickened, but resolute. If Dumbledore wasn’t going to take care of the Malfoy problem, then he would have to do it. And if he had to use a few, well, borderline Dark Arts spells; then he would have to do it.

Fight fire with fire, Dark Arts with Darks Arts. There was no way around it; otherwise he might end up worse off than the last time. He didn’t need that to happen.

He continued reading for a while, then, when it began to grow dark, he put the books back in his trunk and got out the dagger, the Marauder’s Map, and his Invisibility Cloak. He tucked them carefully under his pillow and settled down to pretend to be asleep.

He heard the other boys come in and concentrated on feigning sleep. He heard Ron call his name softly. Later, once everyone had settled into bed and the sounds of deep breathing and Neville’s snores filled the room, Harry carefully got up, collected his things, and quietly crept out, covered by the cloak.

He went through the deserted Common Room and out through the portrait hole. After a surprisingly easy trip downstairs, he arrived at the library.

He opened the door and slipped inside the moonlit library. He lit his wand and went inside the Restricted Section. He set his cloak and the map down on a table and began wandering through the bookshelves, searching for promising books.

He found several that he liked the looks of and took them back to the table. He soon realized though that there was no way he would have enough time to look them over thoroughly. He would have to take them back to his dormitory. If he read them here, there was a good chance of getting caught.

He glanced quickly at the empty spaces on the shelves and then at his wand. An illusion charm ought to make it appear as though the books were really there. He quickly cast the spell for each book, and then went over to the table to gather his things.

He draped the cloak over himself and picked up the books. He headed upstairs, keeping an eye on the map. On the sixth floor, he spotted Snape’s dot heading down the hallway.

‘Shite!’ his mind screamed. He pressed against the wall, biting his lip to keep from making any sounds. Thankfully, Snape passed by without even a glance in his direction. Once he had passed well out of hearing range, Harry let out a sigh of relied and continued on his way.

He finally made it up to the seventh floor and Gryffindor Tower. Once safely inside the curtains on his bed, he pulled out the books and began reading them. A little past one o’ clock, he was starting to fight the effects of no sleep.

He rubbed tiredly at his eyes and marked his page in the book he was currently reading. He put the books under his pillow and settled in to sleep. Despite being so tired, it took him a long time to actually fall asleep.

In the morning, he woke up still feeling tired. He dragged himself out of bed and threw on some robes, then headed down to breakfast. Eating perked him up, but not much.

He glanced up at the Head Table as he idly poked at the remains on his plate, waiting for Ron and Hermione to be done so they could leave together. Snape was watching him with a critical look on his face. Harry looked away and began to glance around at the rest of the Hall. Most of the Gryffindors had finally calmed down and stopped staring at him. Either that, or they were doing their talking when he wasn’t around him.

Many of the other students were staring or quietly whispering to their housemates. Harry didn’t have the energy left to toy with them like he had done with his fellow Gryffindors. He just rested his chin in his hands and watched them watch him. Ron’s voice finally broke him out of his musings.

“Ready to go mate?” asked Ron.

“Yeah,” said Harry as he bent down and grabbed his bag. He hoisted it onto his shoulder and followed Ron out of the Hall, with Hermione behind him.

The morning was a blur of tiredness and, at lunch, he rested his head in his hands again, too tired to eat.

‘Too much activity in one morning,’ thought Harry tiredly.

He closed his eyes halfway and kicked idly at his bag on the floor. It didn’t help that everyone had grown bolder and were just staring at him outright and were talking loudly about him.

“Harry, are you all right?” asked Hermione concernedly. Harry opened his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied.

“Are you sure?” she pressed.

“Yes,” said Harry firmly.

“Well, if you’re sure,” she said uncertainly. “We’d better get to class.”

Harry followed them out of the Great Hall and down to their last class of the day, Potions. He could feel Snape’s eyes on him the whole way out. Down in the dungeons, they settled down on the floor by the door to wait for Snape and the rest of the class to arrive. Harry pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his cheek on them. He would rest his eyes for only a minute……

The next thing he knew, he was being shaken awake. Harry raised his head and blinked tired eyes at his friends.

“What?” he asked.

“It’s time to go in,” said Hermione. Harry scooped up his bag and rose to his feet. They walked the few feet into the classroom and took their usual seats.

Harry watched Snape enter with his head propped up in his hands. He swore to himself that he wouldn’t stay up so late again. He would only look at a few spells tonight.

“Mr. Potter, if your mind would deign to join us, we could begin class,” said Snape near his ear. Harry jumped and nearly fell out of his chair.

“Much better. You will see me after class. Now, today we will be studying the properties of sleeping draughts. Who can tell me the main ingredient of most sleeping---”

Harry found his mind wandering again, to a lace where sleep was not required and he didn’t have to listen to teachers drone on and on about things he didn’t understand.

“The instructions are on the board. Begin now.”

‘Uh-oh’, thought Harry. What had he missed? Obviously, they were supposed to be starting a potion, but which one?

In the midst of his confusion, Harry felt something tiny and cool slipped into his hand. When he looked up, there was no one near him.

Snape was peering at someone’s cauldron, but he could swear Snape gave a tiny nod of his head. He quickly uncorked it and drank the liquid it contained. He instantly felt more awake and alert.

“Get to work, Mr. Potter,” said Snape.

Harry hurriedly gathered the ingredients for whatever potion they were supposed to be making and began to make it. At the end of class, Harry waited until everyone had left, then made his way up to Snape’s desk.

“That potion will wear off in another twenty minutes. Go back to your dormitory and take a nap before dinner,” said Snape.

“Okay,” said Harry and started for the door.

“And Harry?” Harry stopped and half-turned.

“Do be sure and get more rest tonight. I really shouldn’t be dosing you with potions like this when you’re in classes.”

“I will,” said Harry. It was a lie, he knew, but at night was the only time he would have to study the books and not get caught.

Harry headed upstairs to the Tower. When he arrived at the Tower, he was already growing tired again. He rubbed at his eyes and gave the password, then went up to his dormitory. He changed his clothes and lay down for a nap.

Harry sat, stroking his long fingers along the smooth head of Nagini. Harry was thoroughly disgusted by touching the giant snake, but he had no control over his actions.

Shite, I’m in Voldemort’s head again, thought Harry. He looked around at the Death Eaters that circled around him. Several smaller figures in black stood in the circle.

His newest recruits.

“Come forward, my new followers,” said Voldemort softly. The smaller figures stepped towards him in the center of the circle.

“You have all been successful with your missions. Some more so than others,” he said with pride. “Remove your masks and hoods. I want you to see each other for who you truly are.”

Nine hoods and masks were taken off and nine young faces were bared for all to see. Some he knew, most he didn’t.

Harry’s stomach lurched as his eyes fell upon a certain blonde-haired boy, even as Voldemort was feeling pride for him.

“Come here, Draco,” said Voldemort. “Be the first of your fellows to earn the reward of being one of my Death Eaters.” Malfoy came over to Voldemort, his mouth set in a self-satisfied smirk.

“Roll up your sleeve,” commanded Voldemort.

Malfoy glanced quickly to the side, where he received a slight nod from one of the black-cloaked figures, and began to roll up his left sleeve. Voldemort pulled out his wand and touched the tip of it to Malfoy’s forearm.

“Draco Malfoy, do you pledge to be my faithful servant for all of your life?” asked Voldemort.

“Yes,” said Malfoy firmly.

Voldemort murmured a spell, and a faint black outline of the Dark Mark appeared on Malfoy’s arm and smoked slightly. Malfoy gasped quietly, but didn’t move.

“Do you promise to do all you can to further a pureblood only world?”

“Yes,” replied Malfoy, his voice wavering slightly.

“Then so be it. Morsmordre!”

Green light shot out of his wand and attached itself to the black lines. Malfoy screamed and fell to the ground, clutching his arm and convulsing. Harry screamed with him, his own arm burning fiercely.

Harry woke up clutching his left arm. He rubbed at it as he sat up in bed. He waited until his breathing slowed down and the rolled up his pajama sleeve.

He gasped as he found the faint black tracing of the Dark Mark on his arm. He rubbed at it, hoping it would fade. He heard the dormitory door open and quickly yanked his sleeve down.

“What were you looking at?” came the voice of Hermione.

“Nothing,” said Harry quickly.

“You missed dinner, so we brought you something to eat,” interrupted Ron before a confrontation could erupt.

“Thanks,” said Harry as he accepted the napkin of food.

After eating, Harry attempted some of the homework they’d been assigned, but quickly gave up on it. He had no idea how to do an animal to animal transfiguration, let alone explain what properties allowed one to do so. He put his books aside and headed back up to the dormitory.

He pulled out the books and the Marauder’s Map and tucked them under his pillow. He then lay down to feign sleep. He was feeling quite wide awake now, even after his disrupted nap. He suspected it had something to do with the potion Snape had given him.

Oh well. At least he wouldn’t be falling asleep while trying to read those books.

Later that night, when everyone else was asleep, Harry pulled out the books again and recommenced his reading. He smiled thoughtfully as he read a passage on the Bone Shattering Curse.

Malfoy could certainly use a few shattered bones, he thought spitefully. After what he’d been doing in his vision, definitely. And perhaps a good dose of Cruciatus.

He couldn’t do it to Bellatrix, but he was certain he could use it upon Malfoy. With the amount of things that that little shite had put him through, he could certainly take it upon himself to cast the Cruciatus Curse.

The next few nights, Harry taught himself curses in preparation for Malfoy. Finally, he thought he was ready. He returned the books to the Restricted Section and the next day, Saturday, he sought out his prey.

He watched the Marauder's Map until he spotted Malfoy walking outside with Crabbe and Goyle. He grabbed his wand and headed down after wiping the map blank. Thankfully Ron and Hermione were too wrapped up in another fight in the Common Room to notice him leaving.

He caught up to Malfoy in a small grove of trees near the Whomping Willow.

“Malfoy!” he yelled. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle all turned around.

“Ditch the goons, we've got a duel to finish,” said Harry.

“Returning to get your arse kicked again, Snape?” mocked Malfoy.

“I wouldn't be so sure of that,” Harry retorted.

“Crabbe, Goyle, go away,” ordered Malfoy. “Remember, you brought this on yourself.” Malfoy smirked at him.

“Ready?”

Harry narrowed his eyes.

“I believe the question is, are you ready?” He let loose his first spell, a skin-melting curse. With that first Dark Spell, Harry began to grow detached from the duel, as though it wasn't really him casting the spells.

He was supposed to feel sick from this, feel horrible at using the kinds of curses that had killed his mum and James, ruined his life. But no, as he let curse after curse fly from his wand, he felt exhilarated, an overwhelming need to keep going, to not stop until he had taken Malfoy down. He couldn't stop until Malfoy was destroyed.

But that time was long in coming. Malfoy kept dodging his spells and sending back ones equally destructive.

As they tired, spells began grazing parts of their bodies. Harry knew he was going to have to get more serious with this. A Flame Hex grazed his shoulder and he glared fiercely at Malfoy.

“Brachium Orthopedium!” he yelled. Malfoy ducked, but as he fell, the spell struck his legs. Harry smirked in satisfaction and stalked over to where Malfoy lay moaning in pain. Harry extended his wand and pointed it at Malfoy's heart.

“Crucio,” he softly uttered, pouting all his anger, his hatred, his fears, into the spell. Harry looked coldly at Malfoy and laughed as the boy screamed in agony.

“Harry!” he heard his name yelled. He remained watching his prey until he found his wand snatched from his hands and the curse ended.

“What do you think you're doing?” asked Snape, anger evident in his tone.

“Getting revenge,” said Harry calmly and held out his hand. “I'd like my wand back now.”

“No,” said Snape as he slipped Harry's wand into his pocket and conjured a stretcher with his own. He levitated Malfoy onto is and then grabbed Harry's arm.

“We are going back up to the castle now,” said Snape.

“Let me go,” growled Harry. He tugged at his arm and tried to free himself, but Snape was too strong. He raised his leg to kick Snape, but quick as a cat, Snape was behind him and had both his wrists pinned behind his back with one hand in a grip so tight he was sure it would leave bruises.

“Harry, I don't know what is going on with you, but I am going to get to the bottom of it,” said Snape. “You are coming back to the castle with me and you will not leave my side for an instant.”

He pulled Harry along with him, Malfoy's stretcher floating behind them. Harry walked in furious silence the whole way back to the castle. Once again, Snape had interrupted his revenge on Malfoy.

They took Malfoy to the hospital wing and Snape set him on a bed.

Madam Pomfrey cam out of her office and asked, “What happened to him?”

“Harry?” prompted Snape. Harry shook his head and began rattling off the curses he could remember using.

“And what about you, Mr. Potter?” she asked, sounding a bit shocked at what they had done to each other. Harry shrugged. At least he had beaten Malfoy. That was what mattered.

“I'll take care of Mr. Malfoy first, since he is so critically injured,:” she said. Harry glared at her. The little ferret didn't need to be healed.

Snape pulled him out of the way and stood with his hand wrapped around Harry's left forearm. Harry flinched at Snape's tight grip. His arm was burning again and Snape was making it worse.

Snape gave him a strange look and slid Harry's sleeve up. Harry tried to pull away, but it was too late. Snape had already seen the mark, which was darker and had a faint green tint to it.

Snape took a deep breath and asked, “Harry, where did you get this?”

Harry answered truthfully, “I don't know.”

He reached out a hand and rubbed at the mark, which was warm to the touch. The skin around it was red and inflamed.

“Do not let Madam Pomfrey see that,” said Snape quietly and tugged his sleeve down.

Harry kept staring at his arm. He could see the mark in his mind, though it was covered completely. Did this make him a Death Eater now? Was he condemned to be evil forever?

Harry felt sick to his stomach at the thought of what he'd done. All because of Malfoy. He had allowed himself to be provoked and look what had happened. He had used Dark spells.

Malfoy looked close to death, but he couldn't bring himself to enjoy it. He was marked again by Voldemort.

The edges of his vision seemed to tunnel in and he was vaguely aware of being picked up and placed on a bed. A cool cup was held to his lip and he drank without thought. His vision slowly cleared, but his mind was still reeling.

“My God, what have I done?” he whispered. He stared at Malfoy's still body. He had done that. He had fought with and tortured Malfoy. He was the reason Malfoy looked like that.

He shuddered and pulled his knees up to his chest. He shivered as he watched Madam Pomfrey work on Malfoy. He felt a blanket being wrapped around him, but it didn't do him any good. He wasn't shivering from cold. He clenched and unclenched his fists as he stared unseeingly at Malfoy's still form.

~Snape's POV~

Snape carefully wrapped a blanket around Harry. He was shivering unmercilessly as he sat scrunched up on the bed.

“Harry?” Harry made no motion to show that he had heard, just stared straight ahead at Malfoy.

Merlin, Harry had done a number on him. Harry didn't look quite so bad off as Malfoy, but he hadn't had both his legs shattered and cursed with Cruciatus. He passed a hand over Harry's eyes, but Harry remained motionless.

“Madam Pomfrey, I think you need to look at Harry,” said Snape.

“Just a minute, Severus,” said Madam Pomfrey. She finished up with Malfoy and then came over and looked at Harry.

“Mr. Malfoy will be fine once he---Sweet Merlin!” She snapped her fingers in front of Harry's face. When that failed to elicit a response from Harry, she lit her wand and moved it back and forth in front of Harry's eyes.

“He's in shock,” she declared and collected a potion from a cupboard along the wall.

She tipped Harry's head back and poured the potion in his mouth, then stroked his throat to make him swallow it. Several minutes later, Harry began to show signs of coming back to reality. He blinked his eyes and his breathing began to speed up again.

“Calm down, Harry,” said Snape. “He's going to be fine.” Harry closed his eyes and began breathing slowly and deeply.

“What's going to happen to me?” he asked, almost pleadingly.

“What?” The question struck him as strange. Even with Dumbledore holding some much hope for Malfoy he wouldn't have Harry condemned to Azkaban.

“I used an Unforgiveable. I'm going to Azkaban, aren't I?” said Harry in a small voice.

“Dumbledore won't send you to Azkaban, I'm sure of it,” said Snape. Harry looked down at his knees.

“If you say so,” he muttered. Madam Pomfrey came around to treat Harry and blocked Snape's view. Snape smeared bright orange burn paste on Harry's shoulder, then looked him over for any other injuries.

“You may go now,” said Madam Pomfrey once she finished. Harry got off the bed without a word.

Snape took his arm and the two of them walked out together. Snape led Harry down to his office, and once inside, Snape shut and warded the door.

“Sit,” he said quietly and took a seat at his own desk.

~Harry's POV~

Harry sat down and waited to be yelled at for being so stupid.

Instead, Snape handed his wand back to him and said, “Hold it up.” Snape touched the tip of his own wand to it, and the room was silent for a moment. Snape then put his own wand away and Harry lowered his.

“Do you have any idea what you have done?” asked Snape quietly. Harry looked down.

“No, not really,” he admitted.

Snape stood and paced back and forth behind his desk, appearing to be debating something. Snape came out from behind his desk and seated himself facing Harry.

“I was your age when I cast my first Unforgiveable,” said Snape, sounding remorseful. “I'd been using Dark Curses for years before that. It was all in preparation for the Dark Lord's service. I wanted to join so badly that I threw away any chance of happiness that I might have had, including your mum. When your mum came to me that night in the bar, I knew that would be my last chance for happiness. I'd shunned her before, and when she gave herself to me, it was too late. I was unredeemable. I was so ingrained in the Dark Arts that no one could pull me out, until Dumbledore took me under his wing. He had hope for me, much as he has hope for Malfoy, though I had done unspeakable wrongdoings. I will not let you go down the same path I went. There is so much out there for you, and I won't let you give that up.”

He stood back up and walked to the other side of his office.

“I don't want you doing any more research on the Dark Arts, and I definitely don't want you casting any more of them. Every time you cast one, it takes away a small piece of your soul and replaces it with something inherently evil. If you keep doing this, you will end up just like Voldemort. You will be the next Dark Lord. Is that what you want for yourself?”

“No,” said Harry meekly. He looked down again, feeling very ashamed of himself.

“It's going to take time, but you will get over this. As time goes on, the evil will fade from your soul. You will recover from this,” Snape assured him. Snape came back over and examined the Dark Mark on his arm.

“This too will fade in time,” said Snape. “You have no idea where it came from?”

He knew when, but he didn't know how he had gotten one.

“Well, I had a vision the other night,” said Harry.

“Tell me everything that happened in it,” urged Snape.

“I was Voldemort in the vision. There was a Death Eater meeting. I think all the new recruits were there. There were nine of them. Voldemort had them all come forward and remove their masks. He had Malfoy come over to him and he gave Malfoy the Dark Mark. I could feel it too, and then I woke up.”

Snape ran his hands over the ugly marking.

“Yes, this should fade, once you've gotten away from everything evil,” said Snape.

Harry winced as he touched a particularly sore spot.

“There isn't anything I can do for you for the moment. The Mark is designed to reject all other magic except the Dark Lord's. You can't even use potions on it. Just keep it covered and don't let anyone else see, not even your closest friends.”

He pulled Harry's sleeve back down and retreated to lean on his desk.

“Is this the only vision you've had?” asked Snape.

“Yes, I've just been so distracted that I let my guard down,” said Harry apologetically.

“That's all right,” said Snape. “You just need to be careful.”

He went to the door and removed the wards.

“You can go now, but I expect Dumbledore will want to speak to you at one point, as I'm going to speak to him shortly about Mr. Malfoy. I'm fairly certain there is something in the Hogwarts bylaws that states that known Death Eaters cannot stay here,” said Snape. “Will you be all right walking up to the Tower by yourself?”

“Yeah,” said Harry. He stood and pocketed his wand. He headed for the door, but before opening it to leave, he stopped and looked back.

“Thanks for understanding, dad,” said Harry and left.

“You're welcome, Harry,” he heard Snape say softly behind him.

Harry walked slowly up to Gryffindor Tower, his mind still reeling from all that had occurred, and it wasn't even noon yet. He could barely fathom what Snape had told him about being a Death Eater.

Harry realized that if Snape hadn't become one, his mum would probably still be alive, and she would have been with Snape. He would have had a real family and not have grown up with the Dursleys.

It was then that he remembered Dumbledore's words from his first year.

“It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that.”

He wouldn't do that. He had to keep going for the family that he did have. He still had his father, who wasn't about to let anything happen to him. He had his friends too. They would keep him safe too.

He would need all the help he could get once Malfoy was out of the hospital wing, especially since he wasn't supposed to use any more Dark Magic.

He rubbed at his left arm, wishing that the mark would go away. It wasn't going to just go away, he knew that.

He met up with Ron and Hermione while walking down the fifth floor corridor. Hermione looked pleased with herself and Ron slightly sulky.

“Harry, there you are!” said Hermione. “We were just going to the library. Want to come?”

“Sure,” said Harry. He might as well get some of his work done.

The whole way there, Harry felt strangely exposed, as though any minute, Ron or Hermione would demand to see his arm. He was careful to make sure his sleeve stayed down and his arm completely covered. He couldn't concentrate on the book he was reading and kept shifting his glance to his arm.

“Harry, are you all right?” asked Hermione.

“Yeah,” said Harry and pulled his hand under the table.

That was right. Keep his hand where there was no chance of anyone seeing it. If Ron and Hermione found out about it, they would hate him forever. He couldn't let them see it.

But how long was it going to take to fade? He couldn't go on hiding it like this forever. There had to be a more fool-proof way of hiding the mark. If he covered it with a concealment charm, then he wouldn't have to worry about someone seeing it all the time.

He closed his book and pushed it towards Ron and Hermione, then said, “I've got to go.”

“What?” asked Hermione, but Harry was already leaving the library.

He walked quickly up to his dormitory and his inside the curtains that surrounded his bed. He rolled up his sleeve and pulled out his wand. He whispered a concealment charm and yelped as pain flared in his arm.

“Shite,” he muttered, rubbing his arm. The mark was still there, just as dark and foreboding as it had been. He tried several more charms to try and conceal the mark, but they all resulted in more jolts of pain.

He threw down his wand in disgust and contemplated just cutting his skin off with the dagger. That would be even more hard to explain, though. So that idea was out.

He gasped as horrible, burning pain shot up and down his arm. He clasped his hand to the mark and saw that the mark had turned a darker green. He closed his eyes tightly and gritted his teeth.

Was Snape feeling this too? How did he go through it without going mad?

“Harry?”

Harry was too distracted by the pain to register Ron's voice or to notice as Ron's head poked through the curtains. The pain in his arm finally ended and Harry looked up to see Ron's horrified face.

“Harry, y-you've g-got…” he stammered, backing away.

“Listen Ron, it's not what it looks like,” said Harry quickly.

“I know exactly what that is. It's the Dark Mark!” said Ron loudly. “You're a Death Eater!” Harry jumped off his bed.

“I am not!”

“You have the Dark Mark! It's right there on your arm!” yelled Ron. “You are a Death Eater!”

“Ron, let me explain,” pleaded Harry.

“No, I don't want to hear your explanations,” said Ron and ran out of the room.

Shite. Now Ron was going to tell everyone. He groaned out loud.

Snape was going to kill him.

Harry sat down in defeat on his bed. He had no doubts that Ron would go tell everyone that he was a Death Eater. Ron was the type to blurt out things like that when he was angry, but he wasn't a Death Eater. Not in the true sense of the phrase.

With those thoughts, he was surprised when Hermione entered the dormitory alone.

“Harry, is it true?” she asked in anguish.

“I'm not a Death Eater,” said Harry.

“But Ron told me you had the-the Dark Mark,” she said quietly. Harry looked up at Hermione with pained eyes.

“I'm not a Death Eater,” he said again.

“Of course you aren't,” said Hermione consolingly, but her eyes told a different story. They were wary, as though he were going to jump up and start casting Unforgiveables at her.

“And just how many other people did Ron tell?” asked Harry bitterly.

“Just me,” said Hermione. “I convinced him to keep this quiet.”

“Good,” said Harry. “No one was supposed to know in the first place.”

“I won't let him tell anyone, I promise,” said Hermione.

Yeah right, thought Harry. If it would benefit her to, she would tell.

“Can you just leave me alone?” he asked tiredly.

“Sure,” said Hermione. She gave him one last pitying look before leaving him alone.

Harry flopped facedown onto his bed. It was only a matter of time until this came out, like everything else about him. And if everyone knew about the Dark Mark marring his arm, then he was sure to be expelled. Snape had said that he was sure there was a law about that.

Harry sat up abruptly and picked up his wand. He shoved it into his pocket and headed out of the dormitory. He couldn't stay here in the Tower right now. He just felt too exposed.

He wandered the corridors for a while, finally ending up staring at a slightly cracked mirror that was as big as a door. He remembered the twins saying something about a mirror covering a secret passage that had caved in, in his third year.

He pushed the mirror to the side and slipped inside the opening. It was not the small corridor he had expected, but a cavernous room filled with boxes and all manner of strange things.

There were several chairs and couches, and Harry seated himself on one of the latter. He rose quite a bit of dust and sneezed repeatedly. He pulled out his wand and cast a few cleaning charms, and then wandered over to the boxes to see what was in them.

“Wicked,” he whispered as he saw bottles of Butterbeer and various other snacks contained in some of the boxes. All of them appeared to be stored magically. Other boxes held what looked like various prank prototypes.

Laying on top of another box was a slightly yellowing piece of parchment sealed with three W's in orange wax. He broke the seal and unrolled the parchment.

Dear Harry,

If you're reading this, then you've located our secret hiding place for the last three years. We'd have liked to have just told you outright about this place, but we thought you'd prefer the challenge of looking for it.

We did give you little hints along the way, though.

As we discovered ourselves after finding the treasure that is the Marauder's Map in our first year, as well as being a secret passage to Hogsmeade, this place was also used by the Marauders.

No one else knows about it, save for us and you, and probably Professor Lupin.

The boxes are all charmed for an everlasting supply of sweets and to contain various interesting magical objects. We've left our own mark on the place, as you no doubt will discover on your own.

Anyways, do be sure and make the most of this place.

Yours,

Gred and Forge

Wow, thought Harry as he looked around the room with newfound appreciation. This place was perfect to hide out in. It could use a bit of sprucing up, but otherwise, the room was perfect for him.

He grabbed a Butterbeer and lay back on a couch to relax. He was ignoring the problems he had, but he deserved some time to be on his own and relax.

His arm tingled slightly and he pressed the cold butterbeer bottle to it, soothing his skin.

He lay there lethargically for a while, not in a hurry to return to the cruel reality that was his life. He wished he could just stay here until the Dark Mark vanished from his arm. But he couldn't stay sequestered in this room forever.

He sat up with a sigh and set the Btterbeer on the floor. He might as well go back to the Tower now. He had all the time he needed to come back and explore further.

He slipped cautiously out from behind the cracked mirror and meandered slowly back to the Tower. When he entered the Common Room, he could feel Ron's accusing gaze and Hermione's pitying look of disbelief, and nearly left again. But he decided to stick it out.

He went upstairs to get something to do out of his trunk and found the books on the Dark Arts still in his trunk. The Dark Mark on his arm tingled and he dropped the books to the floor.

Deciding not to touch them again, he got some brown paper out of his trunk and wrapped it around the books, being careful not to touch them. He sealed the package with a spell and gingerly picked it up.

He wasn't sure if the paper would help protect him, but decided to take the risk. He'd have to have Snape get rid of them for him.

He headed downstairs and out of the Common Room without looking at Ron or Hermione.

Unexpectedly, as he headed down to the dungeons, he heard his name being called. He turned to see Ginny walking quickly towards him.

“What?” asked Harry a bit brusquely.

She lightly touched his left arm, where the mark was. Harry jerked his arm away, but she was not fazed.

“I know, Harry,” she said quietly.

“Who told you?” asked Harry, angry that Ron or Hermione had told someone else.

“No one,” said Ginny. “I can just tell that you're marked by him. I know, because I've felt it too. He wanted me as his own, the way he wants you.” Harry was shocked by her frankness.

“Maybe we should talk about this somewhere more private,” he suggested, thinking of the room behind the mirror.

“The Room of Requirement?” she asked.

“No, I know a better place,” said Harry. He led her down to the mirror and into the room.

“Wow,” said Ginny as she stared at the room.

“Have a seat,” invited Harry as he pulled out two Btterbeers. The one he'd had earlier had vanished.

They both sat down on a couch and Ginny resumed telling him about her experience with Voldemort.

“I saw it with you too. What he did to you is almost exactly what he did to me, though I was never marked as directly. My mark is here,” she said, pointing to her heart.

“Ron and Hermione, and you for that matter, never noticed what was happening. He started slowly, seducing me with his mind and memories. When I started doing things I normally wouldn't, like killing the roosters, I really had no control over myself. I hardly even knew it was wrong, that was how deep I had gotten into his mind. Once I got in that far, it was so hard to get out. I tried to get away, but then you found that diary, and I had to get it back, and I fell right into Tom's trap again.”

“Wow,” whispered Harry. Ginny gave him a small smile.

“I know, I saw the exact same thing happen to you. Ron and Hermione were too busy with their bickering to notice what was happening to you. But I saw. The change was so slight at first I don't think they would have noticed even if they weren't fighting all the time. You were acting strange, not much, but just enough that I saw it. And then you got further and further in, and still they didn't notice. But you're all right now,” said Ginny. She fixed him with a pointed look. “What happened to you?”

Harry found himself spilling out the entire story to Ginny. He started with getting caught in the hallway by Malfoy, and went through everything that had happened since.

“Wow, Harry,” she said once he had finished. “And things like that have been happening to you all year?”

“Yeah,” sad Harry with a sigh. “This is the worst it's been, though, since I--” He stopped abruptly, not wanting to admit to his worst mistake.

“You mean those two weeks you disappeared, don't you?” asked Ginny gently.

“Yeah,” said Harry quietly and looked down. “But Ginny, I can't tell you about that. It's too hard just thinking about it.”

“It does help to talk, but I'm not going to make you,” said Ginny. Harry looked back up and into the warm eyes of a girl that was going out of her way to help him get through this, though he had not done anything for her.

“Thanks,” said Harry.

“It's no problem, Harry. I'm just doing what every other witch in England would like to be doing,” she said with a quirky little smile.

“All the same, I really appreciate your help. No one else has had to deal with Voldemort so intimately,” said Harry.

“His mind is a horrible place to be,” said Ginny. “It's not something many could deal with.” Harry nodded, remembering all too well the agony of being possessed by Voldemort.

“I'd rather not be possessed by him ever again,” he said, shuddering slightly.

“That's for sure,” agreed Ginny. Harry fidgeted with the paper that covered the Dark Arts spell books and remembered his original task.

“It's been really good, talking to you like this, but I really need to see my dad,” said Harry. “You can stay here if you like, but be careful of the boxes, I don't know what's in them.”

“Okay,” said Ginny. “Are you sure you'll be all right walking down by yourself?”

“Yeah, I'll be fine. The little ferret's still in the hospital wing and I can easily take care of any other Slytherin that tries something with me,” said Harry.

“Be careful, Harry. Don't let it take over,” warned Ginny.

“I will,” Harry assured her. He slipped out from behind the mirror and headed down to his original destination, Snape's office.

When he arrived there, the door was closed, so Harry knocked loudly. The door remained closed, though, so Harry pressed his ear to the door to see if Snape was inside or not. A quiet murmur of voices met his ear.

Now would be a great time for an Extendable Ear, thought Harry. Then, the voices rose and Harry could hear bits of conversation.

“…I have studied the bylaws thoroughly. Any student found to have the Dark Mark is to be expelled and have his wand snapped immediately.”

“I know the bylaws quite well, Severus, but I will not authorize a search of Draco Malfoy, or any other student for that matter.”

“What about my son's safety? You can't be willing to risk his life like this? Malfoy will never turn. Not now, not ever.”

“My hopes for young Mr. Malfoy are not the reason I will not authorize a search. Did you think that Mr. Malfoy would be the only one examined for the Dark Mark? When such a search is authorized, all students are to be searched. That includes Harry.”

“Dammit!” growled Snape. There was a muffled thud as though Snape had kicked something.

“Then I'm taking Harry out of Hogwarts, at least until Malfoy is gone,” said Snape, his voice resolute.

Harry's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in shock. He would have to leave Hogwarts.

“…is no need for such drastic measures. I will figure out a way around this. If you are so adamant about Harry's safety, then I will have something worked out.”

Dumbledore sounded resigned. Harry heard a soft pop, and the door to Snape's office was opened. Harry nearly fell sideways, but was stopped by Snape.

“You heard, I presume?” asked Snape.

“Yes, but--” Snape ignored his words and took his arm and led him over to a seat in front of his desk.

“Sit,” he said brusquely. Harry sat with a nervous feeling in his stomach.

“You might as well know that I will remove you from Hogwarts if the Malfoy problem isn't resolved soon,” said Snape. “Dumbledore has promised to remove him from Hogwarts if your information is true, but even with the laws of Hogwarts, I can't put all my faith in Dumbledore anymore.”

Harry sat, stunned into silence. Snape would make him leave Hogwarts because of Malfoy?

“But I can't leave,” protested Harry. “I have to go to school and my friends are here and--”

“Harry, calm down. That will only be a last resort.”

The look in Snape's eyes defied that statement, though. He was worried, really worried.

“Dad, I--”

“Listen, Harry. I'm only telling you so you know what could happen. I don't plan on having to leave, but neither do I want to have to spring it on you at the last minute. All right?” said Snape gently.

“Okay,” said Harry quietly as he fidgeted with the package of books lying on his lap.

“What do you have there?” asked Snape.

“They're books, ones I shouldn't have,” said Harry as he held out the package. Snape took them away from him. The instant the books left his hands, he felt a sharp jolt.

“What?” asked Snape when he jerked his hands away.

“Nothing, just static electricity,” said Harry, though he had no idea whether that was even possible in Hogwarts. Snape didn't say anything, just set the package on his desk and pulled the paper off.

“Harry, where did you get these?” asked Snape as he examined the books.

“I think I got them by owl order” said Harry.

“Thank you for bringing them to me,” said Snape. “It was very responsible of you.”

Hearing Snape's pride made Harry feel slightly guilty. He really needed to tell Snape that Ron, Hermione, and Ginny knew about his Dark Mark.

“Umm…dad, Ron and Hermione kind of found out about my arm,” he said quietly. “Ginny too.”

“What?” asked Snape incredulously.

“Ron snuck up behind me in the dormitory and saw and then he told Hermione. I didn't mean to let him see!” said Harry quickly.

“And Miss Weasley?” asked Snape.

“Well, I don't know exactly how she knows. She said that she could feel the evil from Voldemort on me,” said Harry, knowing that he wasn't explaining very well, but Snape seemed to understand.

“Not surprising, given her own encounters with the Dark Lord,” said Snape. “This shouldn't be too much of a problem, as long as your friends keep it quiet.”

“Well, Ron's mad about it, but Hermione promised to keep him under control,” said Harry. “And I don't think Ginny would even think of telling anyone else.”

“Good,” murmured Snape, running his fingers over the topmost book. “Let me see your arm.”

Harry obediently rolled up the sleeve of his robe and extended his left arm. Snape gently ran his fingers over the mark, which appeared to be fading slightly.

“It's healing quite nicely,” said Snape. He unrolled Harry's sleeve and tugged it back down. “I think you'd better go back to the Tower now. The Headmaster should be Floo'ing down sometime soon.”

“Will you tell me what happens?” asked Harry.

“Yes, of course,” said Snape.

Harry stood up and left with a quiet goodbye. He was relieved to have the books off his hands. Now he could concentrate on getting rid of all the evil in his body with no temptations.

Several hours after returning to the Tower, Harry was summoned to Dumbledore's office, where he was officially notified of Malfoy's expulsion from Hogwarts. He was also told that if there was an appeal, which there probably would be, he would be required to testify against Malfoy.

A few days later, the first snow fell, marking the official start of winter for Hogwarts. A notice to sign up to stay at Hogwarts was posted on the notice board and Harry knew a trip to see his father was in order. Were they staying at Hogwarts or would he finally get to go home for Christmas?

He ventured down to his father's office, at ease walking by himself in the hallways. Now that Malfoy was gone, Slytherin House had calmed down and was no longer actively against him. In fact, they seemed like mere kittens compared to Malfoy.

He reached the door and knocked softly.

“Come in,” said Snape and Harry opened the door to find Snape seated at his desk, a pile of papers before him.

At Harry's inquiring look, Snape merely said, “Official paperwork,” and gestured for him to sit down.

“I don't want to interrupt your work,” said Harry, remaining standing.

“No, you're not interrupting. It's just tedious work,” said Snape as he set the papers aside. “What did you need?”

Harry sat down and glanced at his hands. He forced himself to look up. He had no reason to be nervous; he knew that.

“I was just wondering whether we were staying at Hogwarts or going home for Christmas break,” he said.

“Well, that depends. What do you want to do?” asked Snape.

“I think I'd kind of like to go home,” said Harry. It would be better there than at Hogwarts anyways, what with Ron not speaking to him and Hermione barely so. They both believe that he was evil, a Death Eater, and it tore at his heart knowing that his best friends would turn on him so easily.

At least Ginny was still speaking to him. They had met several times more in the secret room, and though they had the same thing in common, Harry tried to keep his distance from her. What if she chose to turn on him too? If he didn't get too close to her, then she couldn't hurt him.

Although he was trying to protect himself, he owl-ordered her a delicate silver necklace with a tiny phoenix charm. His instincts told him he really shouldn't, that it would send the wrong signals to her, but he did it anyways. He wanted her to know how much he appreciated her help. He just had to make sure she didn't get to close to him because of it.

“Yes, I'm sure we can do that,” said Snape.

“Thanks, dad,” said Harry and stood up. “I'll leave you to your work, then.”

Several more weeks passed by until finally, it was time to leave for Christmas break. Harry eagerly packed and levitated his trunk down to his father's office, where they were to take a Portkey arranged by Dumbledore.

He'd said goodbye to his friends in the Common Room. Ron ignored him, Hermione gave a quiet goodbye, and Ginny tightly hugged him, making him feel a little better. At least someone cared.

No, he couldn't think that. Ginny was his ‘friend', nothing more. And friends could just as easily turn on you.

He knocked on Snape's office door and opened it to find Snape holding a broken quill. Snape held it out to him. Harry held onto the handle of his trunk and touched the quill.

Snape tapped his wand to the quill and said, “Three…two…one…,” and they were off in a whirl of colors. They landed on the second floor of the house. With a flick of Snape's wand, Harry's trunk vanished from the floor.

“Your trunk is in your room. I expect you want to unpack,” said Snape.

“Yeah,” agreed Harry and headed down the hall. He entered his room to find it exactly how it had been when he'd left for Hogwarts. His trunk was situated in front of his bed.

He immediately went over to it and began unpacking his clothes. He quickly finished that task and moved on to removing things he wouldn't need for the rest of the year from his trunk.

He collected a pile of odd items on the floor beside him, including several broken quills, some scraps of parchment, and an empty ink bottle. He gathered them up and opened the bottom drawer of his desk.

When he dumped the stuff in, he heard a muffled thud and a tinkling noise, like glass hitting together. He reached under the drawer and grasped a handful of cool vials.

He froze when his hand emerged from under the drawer and he caught sight of all-too-familiar pink liquid. The vials clinked merrily as they fell out of his hand and onto the floor again.

‘Shite,' he thought as he glanced back at his open bedroom door. He stood up and closed it, then leaned against it, staring at the innocent-looking vials. He had to give them to Snape.

But then a little voice spoke up, one he hadn't heard in a long time.

‘Why don't you keep them? Exams will be coming up in a few months. Having something to relax you will come in handy.'

No, he couldn't do that. It would be wrong.

‘But you could make them sorry, your little friends, all the people who abandoned you. You could take the potions. Snape would save you. They'd be sorry if they knew you tried to kill yourself because of them…'

Much as he didn't like it, the voice did have a point. He shook his head. No, he couldn't do that.

‘Yes, you can. It'd be so easy. Just write them a letter, by the time they get it, you'd be perfectly fine again, and they'd be begging for forgiveness. Come on, you know you want to.'

Though it went completely against his better judgment, he found himself seated at his desk, quill in hand and a bit of parchment in front of him.

The letter was longer than he'd thought it would be. He'd had a great deal more to say to Ron and Hermione than he'd thought. He sealed the letter and gave it to Hedwig. He tied it to Hedwig's leg with slightly unsteady hands and sent her off. He then turned to the vials.

‘It's now or never,' he thought and reached for the vials.

Harry felt dizzy after the second vial, slightly unsteady after the third. By the time he got to the fourth one, black spots were dancing across his vision.

‘He'd never had this many at once,' he thought as he tumbled onto his bed. ‘Not even when he'd been caught in the Astronomy Tower.'

His room spun around his eyes as he lay back on his bed. His heart beat faster and he began to wonder if this had been a mistake. He should have gone about this a different way. But it was too late….

~Snape's POV~ Snape was straightening up his office when he heard tapping on his window. Who would be sending a letter to him now? He opened the window and Harry's owl flew in, carrying a letter and looking distraught. He held out an owl treat and removed the letter from her leg.

‘Ron and Hermione,' was written on the outside in Harry's messy handwriting. He opened the letter and began to read.

‘Dear Ron and Hermione,

I don't know if it will do any good to say again that I'm not a Death Eater, so I'm not going to even try. Instead, I want to tell you how sorry I am. I want to say how sorry I am that I wasn't strong enough, good enough, powerful enough to be the hero everyone wanted me to be.

I'm just Harry. I don't want to be the Boy-Who-Lived. I just want to be me. I'm not worthy of everyone's love, admiration, or trust if even you two can't believe that I'm not siding with Voldemort.

And that's why I want to make my final goodbyes to you both. I wish that we could have been friends 'til the end of this, but I can't have that. I don't deserve that.

Make sure you tell Ginny goodbye too and that she was a great friend, even if she couldn't save me from this. And now, I say goodbye and I won't be seeing you.

Yours, Harry

‘Shite,' Snape thought. Harry hadn't gone and done something stupid, had he? He shoved the letter in his robe pocket and raced to Harry's room. He pushed open the door and slowed as he saw Harry seemingly asleep on his bed.

He walked over to tuck Harry in, but stopped short as he realized that Harry wasn't asleep. His eyes were half open, and his breathing fast and shallow.

“Harry, what happened?” asked Snape.

Harry gave a lazy half-smile and said, “Dunno.”

“Why are you acting like this?” asked Snape.

“Did Voldemort do something to you again?” asked Snape.

“No,” said Harry with a slight frown. “He doesn't like me being happy….” Harry kept talking, but Snape wasn't listening.

‘Happy.'

Something clicked into place in his brain.

‘Humeur Ascenseur.'

“Harry did you take more of Humeur Ascenseur?” asked Snape urgently.

“Ewe what?” asked Harry confusedly.

“The pink potion,” clarified Snape.

“Oh, that one…. maybe…” said Harry slowly.

Snape's eyes roamed about the room and lit on four empty vials and a fifth full one. Snape snatched them up and waved them in front of Harry's face.

“Did you drink whatever was in these vials?” asked Snape. Harry reached up an arm to bat them away, but missed and his arm fell to the bed again.

“Maybe,” he said. Snape dropped the vials onto Harry's bedside table and summoned a potion to make Harry vomit. If he was lucky, there would be some of the potion in Harry's stomach that hadn't been absorbed yet, and he could rid Harry of it. The rest would have to run its course, as it had when Harry had taken the potion before.

When he raised the potion to Harry's lips, the boy tried to cover his face, but Snape merely pushed his arm aside and poured the potion into Harry's mouth. He covered Harry's mouth and nose until he had swallowed the potion and waited for it to take effect.

He didn't have to wait long; in minutes, Harry pressed his hands to his stomach and was trying in vain to keep from throwing up. He finally gave up and rolled to the side of the bed and was sick over the side of it.

Snape vanished the mess and returned his attention to Harry. His face was now flushed and covered with a light sheen of sweat. Harry wrapped his arms around himself as he gasped for breath.

“What were you thinking?” whispered Snape as he brushed Harry's hair off his sweaty forehead. Harry moaned softly and curled up more.

He could take care of Harry; he knew that. He didn't really want to Floo Madam Pomfrey for assistance; that would most likely require Harry be brought back to Hogwarts. Snape wanted to keep Harry at the house. After all, it had been Harry's wish to come here for the holidays. He would help Harry on his own, he decided.

Snape noticed that Harry's breathing was starting to quicken more and summoned the same potion he'd given Madam Pomfrey when this had happened before. He quickly poured the potion into Harry's mouth and forced him to drink it. Harry was too exhausted by then from fighting the potion to put up much of a fight, though.

Harry suddenly relaxed and opened his eyes the rest of the way, but he didn't look at Snape. His eyes roamed around, taking in something Snape couldn't see as his lips moved soundlessly. Then, just as suddenly, Harry's eyes snapped shut and his deeper breathing indicated that he had fallen asleep.

Snape carefully pulled a thin blanket over Harry and cast a charm to alert him when Harry woke. He closed the door halfway behind him and headed down to his office. He had a letter of his own to write.

Harry hadn't shared explicit details with him, but he heard enough from the other professors and saw enough himself to deduce that Harry's friends truly thought him a Death Eater. Well, if they were the reason Harry had snapped and taken that potion again in order to kill himself, then they deserved to see what had originally been meant for their eyes.

But he wouldn't owl it directly to them. No, he would provide a Portkey to an empty room on the second floor where he would leave them to read it, and then, they could see what they had done to Harry.

Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley,

This letter is a Portkey that will take you to an undisclosed location two minutes after you receive it. I wish for you to see something; you shall be returned to your present location when I am finished with you. Bring no one else with you.

Professor Snape

He folded the letter and sealed it, then spelled it as a Portkey. He then tied it to his own owl's leg and sent if off. By the time they received the missive Harry would probably be stable.

Forty minutes later, he heard a distinct ring in his head that meant the two Gryffindors had arrived. He had already placed a copy of the letter Harry had written in the room. He would give them about ten minutes to read it, and then he would go collect them to go see Harry.

He waited the ten minutes impatiently and then headed down the hall. It was kind of cruel to do this to them, especially with Harry in this state, but it would do the two of them good to see what they had done. He shoved the door open and Hermione dropped the piece of parchment she was holding with a squeal of surprise.

Ron had his arms wrapped around Hermione and sparkling tears made their way down the girls' face. Snape felt no remorse for letting them think that Harry was dead. It would be good for them to see what they had done to Harry.

He stared coolly at the two and said, “Come with me.” Neither moved.

“Professor, I... we… we're--”

“Do be quiet, Miss Granger,” said Snape. “Now, let's go.”

They followed him that time, down the hall to where Harry still slept. He carefully opened the door and led the way in. He was treated to another of Hermione's irritating squeals.

“Sir, he--he did… what he said in--” stammered Ron.

“Of course he did, you idiot,” snapped Snape.

He abruptly turned around and all but shoved the irritating Gryffindors back into the hall. He pulled the door shut behind them and moved away from it.

“See what your idiocy has done?” he hissed angrily.

“We're really sorry,” started Hermione but Snape held up a warning hand.

“You want to know what happened to him?” asked Snape. He received two tiny nods in return. “Come down to my office, then.”

He led the way there too and pointed to two chairs in front of his desk. He sat down behind his desk and stared at the duo.

“That mark on Harry's arm was not placed there by choice. Apparently, Draco Malfoy placed a spell on Harry that would make him susceptible to curses from the Dark Lord through their connection. During Malfoy's Dark Mark Rite, the spell was transferred to Harry. In doing so, he was marked as a Death Eater. I believe the plot may have been to get Harry expelled so that they could get a hold of him. He is ‘not' a Death Eater, nor should you have ever believed he was. And your abandonment of him has led to this,” said Snape.

The two Gryffindors were stunned into silence.

“You are both very lucky that the potion he ingested did not contain enough belladonna to kill him.” Hermione's eyes widened, but Ron looked completely clueless.

“Do you not ever bring your brain into my class, Mr. Weasley?” snapped Snape. “Belladonna, otherwise known as Deadly Nightshade, if taken in a large enough dose, will cause your heart to speed up to the point where your lungs cannot keep up with the demand for oxygen. Starved of oxygen, your body's functions will slow down until they cease to work. Add that to the other ill effects of the potion he took, and you have a lethal combination. Harry was lucky he didn't have anymore of the potion. Now, did that answer all of your questions?”

“Just one more sir, if you will,” said Hermione.

“Well?” he pressed when she remained silent.

“Will Harry be all right?” she asked timidly.

“Yes, no thanks to the two of you,” said Snape.

“Can we come back and visit him?” asked Ron.

“Perhaps, now take this,” said Snape and held out an old, battered quill.

Ron and Hermione took hold of it and within seconds, were gone from his office. Snape picked up a quill from his desk and tapped it idly against the desk.

They had seemed remorseful enough, with even requesting to visit. He would have to wait and see, he reasoned. And if they did something like this again… well, even Merlin wouldn't be able to help them.

~Harry's POV~ Harry stirred slightly from his light sleep. He could have sworn he'd heard voices in his room. He must have imagined it, like he'd imagined seeing those glittering stars dance around his room earlier.

He felt better than he'd felt when Snape had found him. At least, his chest had stopped feeling like it would explode. His muscles still ached and he could feel a pounding headache coming on.

He was tired, but he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep. Not like this. Not with that horrible guilty feeling weighing down on his conscience.

He heard the door open and his name called softly by Snape. As soon as he heard the man's voice, he felt even worse. He closed his eyes tightly and pretended to be asleep. He couldn't face Snape after giving in to the voice like that, after destroying all the progress he'd made with battling his depression and his addiction to that potion.

He heard a quiet tinkling sound near his head and assumed it to be the potion vials Snape had set there earlier.

“Harry?” said Snape softly. Harry continued to feign sleep and didn't respond. Snape was going to be angry that he wasn't strong enough to resist the voice. He heard a quiet sigh and then a click as the door was shut.

Harry opened his eyes and surveyed the room. He didn't see Snape anywhere and sat up slowly. As he did so, he felt a wave of lightheadedness that almost made him decide to lie back down.

Instead, he steadied himself with both hands. When he was recovered, he stood up and grabbed a clean outfit to change into. When he pulled the clothes out of a drawer, a bundle of silvery material fell out with them.

‘Perhaps it would be best to avoid Snape for a while,' he thought as he set the Cloak down on his bed and changed his clothes. He tossed his dirty clothes aside and picked up the Invisibility Cloak. The thin material ran like water between his hands as he wondered what to do.

Finally, he decided to wear it. If he was seen by Snape, he would have to answer his questions, questions that he wasn't ready to answer. He wasn't ready to even talk to Snape at all at the moment.

‘It would be better to be able to wander around unseen,' he thought as he pulled the Cloak over himself. He opened the door partially and slipped out, then pulled the door shut behind him. He wandered downstairs to the library, thinking that it would be an ideal place to hide out for a while.

He grabbed a book off a shelf as he passed it and headed to the very back of the library. He settled down on a chair in a corner between two shelves where he wouldn't be seen and opened the book he had selected.

It was called ‘Potions for the Mind, Body, and Soul.' It sounded interesting enough, so he flipped to the first page and started to read. He skipped over some of the more boring potions and marked a few with bits of parchment he found in the pocket of his jeans.

They would be good practice and would be something to do while he was hiding from Snape. And all of them were safe to make and take, especially considering he'd had a few of them already.

After several hours of paging through the book, Harry closed it and slipped his cloak back over his book. He walked back to his room and sat on the bed after stowing away both cloak and book and picking out one of his schoolbooks.

He pretended to be perusing it as the door opened and Snape came in bearing a tray of various foods. Harry kept his eyes firmly fixes on the book and didn't respond when Snape spoke to him.

“I brought you some lunch, Harry,” said Snape. Harry heard the tray being set down and Snape coming over to the bed.

“Are you all right, Harry?” asked Snape concernedly. Harry flipped to the next page and continued reading.

“Why won't you talk to me?” asked Snape. Harry adjusted the book in his lap and smoothed out the page he was looking at. He felt a hand descend on his shoulder and squeeze lightly.

“I'll be in my office if you wish to talk,” said Snape softly and Harry heard his retreat. Hot tears prickled his eyes and the page before him blurred.

He rubbed his eyes with his fists, feeling horrible. He couldn't look into Snape's eyes and see the disappointment that was sure to be there. He couldn't face living proof of how stupid he had been.

He turned to the table that held the tray and took a small bite of one of the sandwiches. Finding he had no appetite, he set it back down and took a sip of whatever was in the goblet. He found that it was pumpkin juice and took another sip, then sat that down too.

He got the potion book out again and after looking at it a moment, left his room with it and headed down to the potions lab he had found during the summer.

When he walked in, he resolutely ignored the spot where he knew the rest of the pink potion was hidden and went straight to a table, where he set up to brew a Strengthening Draught. An hour later, the potion was complete. It was not as bright of red as the book had said it would be, but it looked like it would work, and Harry bottled the potion feeling satisfied. He hid the potion in an empty cupboard near the door, as well as the book he was using.

Harry went back to his room, where he sat down on his bed again with the Charms textbook. The tray was gone, Harry assumed that Snape had come and gotten it. He didn't think he could ever face the man again. He just didn't know what to say to Snape.

Then a thought popped to the forefront of his mind: he did have someone else he could talk to about this. Harry put the book down and went over to his desk. He pulled out parchment and a quill and began to write…

Dear Ginny,

You remember that potion I told you about, the one that I got addicted to? When I got home, I found the vials I had left of it and drank them. I thought it would be a way to get Ron and Hermione back for not believing me.

I knew it was wrong, but the voice kept insisting that it would work, that everything would be fine.

My dad saved me, but I can't talk to him about it. I know he's disappointed with me for giving in.

I don't want to burden you, but I thought you might be able to help.

Yours, Harry

Harry sent the letter off a bit hesitantly, afraid of letting Ginny know. But it would be all right, he told himself. She knew about everything else already.

He settled back down with his book, and when Snape came in with another tray, he was too absorbed to notice. He felt Snape touch his shoulder and jumped slightly.

“Harry, please look at me,” pleaded Snape.

Harry closed his eyes tightly and remained still with a guilty feeling in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't face Snape, he just couldn't. Harry felt the hand removed and Snape's footsteps recede, then the door being closed softly.

Harry ate one of the sandwiches, though he still had no appetite, and as he was poking at the pudding with his fork, Hedwig flew through his window with a letter. He dropped the fork and took the letter from Hedwig, who flew off again. He unfolded the parchment and found Ginny's neat handwriting.

Dear Harry,

You're never a bother, don't think that for an instant. I'll equate your potion problem with my Voldemort one. You'll probably always be haunted by it, as I am by the memory of Tom Riddle. It'll get easier with time, believe me.

Your dad isn't going to be disappointed by that. As he is a Potions Master, he'll know the temptation you face better than anyone. Talk to him. I'm sure he wants to help you in any way he can.

As for Ron and Hermione, I don't know what happened to them, but it looks like someone gave them a serious reality check. They've both been really subdued since the day they left for a couple of hours.

Just keep fighting the evil and please, go talk to your dad. It will help, I swear.

Yours, Ginny

Harry put the letter down and bowed his head. Those voices he'd thought he'd imagined, he hadn't. They'd been Ron and Hermione. And now they knew everything.

Ginny's letter felt like a punch to his stomach. She always managed to tell things like they were with just a few simple sentences. Everything she'd said was true. He needed to listen to her advice and talk to Snape, though the voice in his head was still saying not to.

Harry heard the door to his room open again. Footsteps found their way over to his bed and he felt a hand forcing his face up, making him look into Snape's dark eyes.

“We need to talk,” said Snape firmly. Harry bit his lip and gave a tiny nod. It would be best to get this over and done with.

Snape pushed the Charms book and the letter from Ginny to the side and sat on Harry's bed.

“Harry, I don't want you to think you can't come talk to me. I know how guilty you feel about the potion. It wasn't your fault and I don't blame you for taking it. The temptation will always be there, but like that mark, it will fade over time. Don't let it take over and it won't,” said Snape softly.

“I'm trying,” said Harry. “I was afraid to talk to you, I thought--”

“I'm nothing like the Dursleys, Harry. If you need my help, just come to me, all right?” said Snape.

“Okay,” said Harry. Snape smiled reassuringly and glanced at the closed door.

“Now that we have that taken care of, you have a few visitors,” said Snape and waved his wand to open the door, revealing three Gryffindors. “I'll let the four of you visit.” He got up and left them alone.

Hermione was the first to rush over to him, hugging him tightly and apologizing profusely. “Oh God, Harry, I'm so sorry I didn't believe you.” Ron didn't hug him, but he stood awkwardly by, wringing his hands as he looked down at the floor and began mumbling his apologies with a red face.

Hermione finally released him and was replaced by Ginny, who quickly whispered, “I'm glad you're okay,” and then stepped back. Hermione's face was still shiny with tears. Ginny patted her shoulder reassuringly and smiled at Harry.

“It's all right, you guys,” said Harry. It was, really. He felt better after seeing the three of them. “Want to go see Snape's library?” he offered, knowing it would cheer Hermione up.

“He has a library?” she asked, tears momentarily forgotten.

“Yep,” said Harry and led his friends out of his room and down to the library.

“Wow,” Hermione breathed as she took in the large room. She took off towards the ‘D' section. Ron looked equally excited and horrified to be able to touch Snape's books.

“Go ahead. They don't bite, at least, I don't think they do,” invited Harry. Ron wandered towards the back, presumably to see if there were any Quidditch books. Ginny turned and looked Harry in the eyes.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“Yeah,” said Harry. Ginny fixed him with a steely gaze.

“You're not really. Tell me the truth, Harry,” she said. Harry gently grabbed her arm, pulled her out of the library, and gently eased the door shut behind them. He leaned against the wall, feeling utterly broken again.

“No, I'm not all right. I see those two and I tell them I've forgiven them; my heart wants me to, but the rest of me is insisting that they could turn on me again at any moment.” He lowered his gaze to the floor and continued. “It's saying you could turn too. I don't want to believe it, but Ron and Hermione have been my best friends since first year and if they believed the worst of me, what's to stop you?”

He slid down to the floor and tugged at his hair. A gentle hand on his chin brought his face back up and he looked into the warm eyes of Ginny, who was now kneeling beside him.

“Voldemort,” said Ginny softly.

“What?” asked Harry in a choked voice.

“Voldemort is the reason I'll never turn on you. He messed with my head the same as he's doing to you. I know what you're feeling and I know that you're the only reason I'm alive today. I want to return the favor, but even more, I want to help ‘you.' I want to help the Harry that felt such despair when his godfather died that he could only deal with it by hurting himself, the Harry that could look past his old difficulties and accept Snape as his father, the Harry that poured out his heart to me in that secret room. I want to see the real Harry, not the Boy-Who-Lived. What you did as a baby is irrelevant now. You've done so much, and dealt with so much. I want you to see how perfect you can be.” Harry was stunned by Ginny.

“God, Ginny, you're so ‘open' with everything. How can you do it?” Harry choked out.

“I've had a family who helped me through it,” said Ginny.

“I don't--”

“No,” said Ginny. “You have Professor Snape. He is your family. And if you'll let us, Ron, Hermione, my entire family, Professor Lupin, the whole Order, we'll be your family too.” Harry closed his eyes, pained by Ginny's display.

“No, don't you dare retreat on me,” said Ginny forcefully. Harry opened his eyes again and saw that Ginny had shifted closer. “Harry, let us help you,” she said softly.

Harry could smell the light, flowery perfume she was wearing. He saw the light flush that had risen to her cheeks from her bold speech. He leaned closer himself and closed his eyes. Harry felt Ginny's warm lips on his.

Seconds later, they had separated themselves and were staring into each other's eyes. They quickly jumped apart when they heard a door open and looked to the library door, each trying to keep the guilty looks off their faces.

“What were you doing out here?” asked Ron.

“Nothing,” said Harry.

“Just talking,” added Ginny. Hermione gave them an odd look, but didn't comment.

“Harry, do you think your dad would let me borrow some--”

“One at a time, Miss Granger,” Snape's deep voice interrupted.

“Thank you, sir,” said Hermione happily. She darted back into the library and returned with a thick and dusty book.

“Excellent choice,” commented Snape. “Shall we adjourn to the dining room for tea?”

“Good idea,” said Harry. He and Snape led the way to the dining room with Hermione eagerly commenting on the architecture and decoration of the house. Ron walked along silently, listening to Hermione prattle on and Ginny stayed by Harry's side, though she too remained silent. Harry believed she was contemplating the kiss they'd shared.

In the dining room, Harry made sure to sit across from Ginny. A he sipped his tea he let his gaze wander to Ginny occasionally. The way she tilted her head made her fiery hair flint orange in the firelight. Soon, he realized he was openly staring at Ginny, but she was staring right back. That is, until she kicked him under the table.

Harry quickly masked the pain in his shin and took another sip of tea. Ginny gave a tiny, almost imperceptible shake of her head and quickly mouthed, ‘Not here.' Harry returned his attention to the conversation taking place around him.

A half hour of varied conversations later, and it was time for Harry's friends to leave. They took the Portkey after several tight hugs from Hermione and Ginny, who smiled quickly at him, and a handshake from Ron.

When they had vanished from sight, Harry turned to Snape and said, “There's some things I need to tell you.” Snape shook his head, his dark curtain of hair swaying about his face.

“I don't believe that will be necessary,” he said. Harry shook his head and closed his eyes.

“Did you… see… hear…” He trailed off awkwardly.

“Not intentionally,” said Snape. “It is good that you have someone you can confide in completely besides me. Ginny Weasley will be good for you.”

“You don't mind me telling her everything that's been happening?” asked Harry.

“Harry, I couldn't be happier that you're finally getting all this off your chest,” said Snape with a small smile. “You may have them over again, or just Ginny if you wish.” Harry grinned happily.

“Thanks,” he said.

“It is no problem. Now, I think you ought to finish unpacking,” said Snape.

“Yeah, I probably should,” said Harry and headed upstairs. The rest of his unpacking was quickly finished and Harry removed the Charms book from his bed and lay down. He closed his eyes and saw Ginny's face smiling softly at him. He smiled too and curled up on his side, letting himself relax into sleep. He stirred slightly when he felt a blanket dragged up over him, but quickly fell back into sleep.

He dreamed of following a laugh like bells and a shock of red hair through a forest.

“Catch me if you can, Harry!” came the lilting voice of Ginny. He ran faster, slowly gaining on the quick-footed girl. He caught up to her in a bright clearing lined with brilliantly colored flowers. He grabbed Ginny's arm and spun her around to face him.

“You caught me,” she said breathlessly.

“Do I get a prize?” asked Harry.

“Yeah, this--” Ginny threw her arms around his neck and kissed him quickly on the lips, then darted away again, laughing brightly.

The chase continued all night, and Harry woke feeling refreshed to sunlight streaming in the windows. Harry pushed the blanket that covered him back and climbed out of bed.

He felt rumpled from sleeping the whole night in his clothes, and quickly stripped them off in the bathroom and had a quick shower. With a towel about his waist and hair still dripping wet, he returned to his room and changed into clean clothes.

He wandered downstairs to the dining room and found Snape and breakfast waiting.

He dropped into a chair and said, “Good morning.”

“You seem to be in an especially good mood this morning,” commented Snape as he took the Daily Prophet from the delivery owl and paid for it.

“Yep,” said Harry and served himself eggs and toast.

“Hmm…” said Snape as his eyes roved over the front page of the newspaper.

“What?” asked Harry curiously.

“It is nothing,” said Snape nonchalantly.

“No, I want to know,” said Harry, his chipperness evaporating and replaced with insistent curiosity.

“The Dark Lord and a number of Death Eaters attacked near Diagon Alley last night,” said Snape.

“Did anyone get hurt?” asked Harry, cold dread sliding into his stomach.

“Just a few unnamed Muggles,” said Snape. Harry dropped his fork, unable to eat anymore.

“Don't you even think about blaming yourself, Harry. That's what he wants you to do,” said Snape.

“I won't,” promised Harry, but already he was feeling guilty. The longer Voldemort was on the loose, the more chaos and destruction he could create. “Can I be excused?” he asked.

“Hold on a minute,” said Snape as he folded the newspaper and Banished it somewhere, probably his office. “Why don't we do something together today? We could decorate the house.” Harry blinked.

“You have decorations?” he asked.

“Well, no, but I can conjure them,” said Snape.

“Sure,” said Harry, though his mind was still on the attack. Snape snapped his fingers and all the dishes and uneaten food vanished.

“Let's get started then, shall we?” said Snape. They walked up to the second floor. “We'll start here, since it's where we spend most of our time,” said Snape. He flicked his wand and several boxes appeared. Harry opened the box nearest him and found coils of green, red, and silver tinsel. “We can start with that. Just decided where you want it and I'll put it up,” said Snape.

Harry grinned and grabbed several coils. He had never been allowed to do this at the Dursleys' house. He started unrolling a red one and had Snape stick it to the ceiling. He then zigzagged back and forth, letting loops dangle down. Strangely, no matter how far he went with one coil, it never seemed to run out until he stopped using it and changed colors.

Nearly half an hour later, he had the entire ceiling of the hall covered in long loops of tinsel. He dropped the remainder of the tinsel back in the box and opened another. This one had strange shapes made of shiny plastic. Harry lifted out a handful and saw stars, moons, wands, and various other shapes.

“What's this for?” he asked.

“Stay down,” advised Snape and waved his wand. Harry stared in awe as the shiny objects flew into the air and attached themselves to the tinsel, creating a glittery wonderland.

The remaining box held fluffy fake snow. Harry scattered this in handfuls along the walls rather than let Snape do it magically.

“Very creative, Harry,” said Snape and hovered the boxes by the stairs. “We can do the staircase now.”

Harry spent quite a bit of time winding the tinsel around the stairs, then scattered snow all over, and finally allowed Snape to magic the glittery things everywhere.

The downstairs hallway was decorated the same as the upper hallway, and then they moved on to the rooms.

Harry's room was first, and he had fun putting tinsel and snow everywhere. With his room decorated, Harry insisted on doing Snape's office too.

“No snow,” said Snape. “I don't need it in any potions.”

“'Kay,” said Harry and compromised by flinging tinsel everywhere. Snape also refused to put any of the shapes in his office. He also refused to let Harry do his bedroom.

“Now, I believe we only have the dining room and living room to do,” said Snape.

They went back downstairs and into the dining room. Harry had that room decorated quickly and followed Snape over to the living room, where a tree that put the twelve trees that Hogwarts had to shame surprised

him.

Several more boxes were next to the tree, and Harry eagerly abandoned the ones he had been using in favor of the new ones. He found various decorations for the tree.

“How are we supposed to get all of these on the tree?” asked Harry.

“Just put up all the ones you can, and I'll do the rest,” said Snape.

Harry collected more strands of tinsel and draped them around the tree. He then hung icicles and brightly colored baubles on the branches. Everything was hung as far as he could reach, then Snape magicked the rest onto the tree. Then, with a flick of his wand, the shimmery cut-outs cascaded over the tree and candles balanced delicately on the branches. Snape left the candles unlit.

“Why aren't you lighting the candles?” he asked curiously.

“We'll light those on Christmas Eve,” said Snape and handed Harry a pile of the tiny white candles in gold holders and instructed him to put them around the room while he put up the rest of the decorations.

In minutes, they were both finished and Snape said, “We can light these candles.” He lit one of the candles and instructed Harry to light the rest of them.

“This is an old tradition, having the child of the family light the candles of the room that Saint Nicholas is to come to. The candles are enchanted to stay lit until dawn breaks on Christmas Day,” explained Snape.

Harry carefully finished his task and moved to stand beside Snape with the candle still in his hand. He held it out to Snape, but the man said, “That's to go in your room.”

“Are there any more traditions I don't know about?” asked Harry.

“Just a few more, but we'll get to those when the time comes for them. Now go put that in your room and get your cloak and your vault key,” said Snape.

Harry hurried upstairs and set the candle on the table by his bed and got his cloak out of his closet. He found the tiny key at the bottom of his nearly empty trunk and went back downstairs where he saw Snape with a cloak on and a jar of Floo powder.

“We'll be Floo'ing to the Weasley twins' shop,” said Snape as he held the jar out to Harry. He grabbed a handful and flung it into the fireplace.

“Number Ninety-Three, Diagon Alley!” he called and was whirled through the Floo Network, finally stumbling out into the most insane place Harry had ever seen. The shop was even crazier than Zonko's, and that was certainly saying something. The twins seemed to have outdone themselves for once with their shop.

Harry cautiously walked through an aisle and nearly walked into one of the twins, who was kneeling beside a large box, mumbling, “I know I put it here somewhere…”

“George, I found the--Harry, you're here!” George hurriedly stood up, grabbed Harry's arm, and led him over to Fred, who was holding several brightly colored boxes.

“All right, I think he should be good if we give him two of these, and one of those, and maybe one of this…”

“What are you talking about?” asked Harry confusedly.

“They're fixing up our disguises,” said Snape unexpectedly from behind them.

“Here you go, Harry,” said one of the twins and held out a handful of various colored candies.

“And for you, sir,” said the other twin, holding out a handful to Snape. Harry glanced suspiciously at the candies, but put them in his mouth. They tasted sweet, but with a hint of fruit. Once he'd swallowed them, he felt a strange tingling sensation all over his body.

“Excellent,” said one of the twins and held out a mirror. Harry took it and was surprised to see himself fair-haired and fair-skinned, with hair that brushed his eyebrows, completely covering his scar.

“I look like Malfoy,” he complained. One of the twins handed him another candy. After eating it, his hair darkened to a more natural hue.

“Creepy,” he said.

“It's our newest product, though we aren't selling it yet, since we don't have a name for it and are still in the process of testing it,” said one twin.

“It seems to be working perfectly,” said the other.

“It should work for about six hours,” said the first twin.

“Good, we'll be back in a few hours then,” said Snape and gingerly made his way out of the shop. When they were well away from the shop, Snape said, “Thos two are very disturbing, but quite useful.”

“Yeah,” said Harry. “So, where are we going first?” he asked.

“Gringotts, then you can do your shopping by yourself. I have a bit of shopping to do myself. We will meet back at the twins' shop in two hours,” said Snape.

The trip down to his vault was quick, and Harry and Snape went separate ways. Harry first went to the stationary shop, where he bought Hermione a new set of elegant eagle-feather quills and various colored parchment. Ron's gift was also easy; Harry got him a large collection of sweets. Ginny he had already gotten a present for, so that left only Snape.

What could he possibly get for Snape? He chewed on his bottom lip as he turned in a slow circle. He grinned as he spotted a tiny shop with all sorts of glass bottles in its window.

Inside the shop, he collected a variety of fancy bottles and took them up to the front to pay for them. The shopkeeper gave him a strange, piercing look as he bagged the bottles. Harry shrugged off his feeling of unease and left.

After leaving the shop, he got some more sweets for the rest of his friends, and then wandered down the Alley, looking for a place to buy wrapping paper.

He finally found another little shop that sold wizarding wrapping paper. He picked out some that was sparkling silver with gold stars that blinked away and back randomly. He also picked out some striped paper that changed randomly every minute.

After completing his purchases, Harry walked back down to the Weasley twins' shop. He found Snape waiting inside, staring distastefully at a towering stack of Skiving Snackboxes.

“Harry, if you wish to purchase any of these products, do be sure and tell me so I don't look and see what sorts of insanity you plan to get into,” said Snape. “I'd rather you not get into mischief, but I can't stop you.”

“I dunno,” said Harry. “I don't even know what half this stuff is for.” Suddenly, he was grabbed by both arms and dragged forward.

“Allow us to show you the marvels of our humble shop,” said one twin.

“As you can see, here are our Skiving Snackboxes…”

“We've got several new varieties now…”

“And here's…”

The amount of products the twins had created was endless. Harry got a few packs of “Spine-tingling Shock-tarts” and “Flaming Fudge,” which covered your hair with the illusion that it was on fire.

“We'll send you some samples!” called a twin as they Floo'ed away.

Back at the house, Harry and Snape separated again, Harry to go wrap the presents, and Snape to probably do the same. Once in his room with the door closed, Harry set his purchases on his bed, got out a roll of Spell-o-Tape and his present for Ginny, and set about wrapping them. He did a decent job wrapping the presents for his friends, but the potion bottles proved to be a bit trickier. He frowned at the bottles and wrapping paper, then he suddenly got an idea.

He covered the bottles with a bit of paper, then jumped up and opened the door just enough to call out, “Dad!”

Snape came over to his door and asked, “What do you need?”

“I need some things spelled unbreakable, but you can't look. Can you do that?” asked Harry.

“Yes, you'll just have to let me in there so I can spell them,” said Snape and closed his eyes.

“No peeking,” said Harry as he grabbed Snape's hand and pulled him over to the bed. Snape took out his wand.

“Just touch my wand to all the things you need charmed,” he said.

Harry quickly uncovered the bottles and laid them out in a row, then directed Snape's wand to each one in turn as Snape incanted softly in Latin.

When he was done, Harry covered the bottles up again and said, “You can look now.” Snape opened his eyes and went back out.

“Just call if you need me again,” he said before shutting the door.

“Thanks,” said Harry and returned to the bottles. He carefully piled them on top of a large piece of paper and wrapped it around, then Spell-o-taped the entire package thoroughly. He had just hidden everything in the bottom of his trunk when he heard a knock on his door.

“Come in!” he called as he shut the lid.

“It's lunchtime,” said Snape as he opened the door.

“Okay,” said Harry and followed Snape downstairs. They had a quick lunch, then Harry wandered upstairs to his room. His schoolbooks failed to hold his attention, so he went to the library to see if he could find some alternate reading material.

Harry picked out what looked to be a children's storybook. He returned to his room with the book and settled down on his bed with it. It turned out that the book was a collection of Wizarding fairy tales.

He started reading one about a little boy who had seen a unicorn. It was interesting enough, but the morning's activities had worn him out and he quickly found his eyes crossing and uncrossing as he attempted to continue reading.

His effort was to no avail, and he found himself dreaming of chasing Ginny again, only this time she was flying along on the back on a silver unicorn. He woke to Snape gently shaking his shoulder.

“What?” he asked groggily.

“It is time for dinner,” said Snape.

“'Kay. I'm up,” he replied as he sat up slowly.

“Be downstairs in ten minutes,” said Snape. Harry heard the door click shut and closed his eyes again. He would rest his eyes for only a minute… Maybe it would make the room stop spinning…

He woke up again with a cool hand on his forehead. He blinked his eyes opened and saw Snape looking concerned.

“What?” he asked as he brushed Snape's hand off his forehead with a heavy hand. He felt sick and disoriented, like he had just drunk a strong sleeping potion.

“Harry, are you feeling all right?” asked Snape.

“No,” he admitted as he shook his head lightly. The motion only made him feel sicker.

Snape frowned and said, “Perhaps you have a touch of the flu. I will go and get you some potions.”

When Snape vanished from his sight, Harry closed his eyes again. He didn’t go to sleep again, though. He shoved the blankets back and curled up on his side.

Why was it so hot in here? It was cold outside; he could open a window. He climbed unsteadily out of bed and stumbled over to one of the windows. He tugged on the latch and the window sprang open, filling the room with frigid air.

“Harry, what are you doing!” said Snape as Harry was about to stick his head out of the window. Snape pulled him away from the window and draped a blanket around his shoulders, then shut the window. Harry shrugged the blanket off and let it fall to the floor.

When Snape picked it up and made to put it back on him, he said, “No.”

“What?” said Snape.

“It’s hot in here,” Harry complained. Snape shook his head.

“No, it’s not hot. You only think that.”

“It is too hot!” Harry said irritably. Snape sighed and pushed Harry over to sit on his bed.

“Harry, drink these potions. Madam Pomfrey will be by in a short while to look you over,” said Snape. Harry gagged at the taste of the potions that Snape handed to him, then lay down and curled up. He felt a blanket draped over him, but didn’t bother to fight it, for he was tired again.

~Snape’s POV~ Snape frowned as he looked at the still form of Harry. What had happened to him? Harry had been fine before they’d left for Diagon Alley.

That got rid of the possibility of whatever was wrong with Harry being a side affect of Humeur Ascenseur. He also toyed with the idea of Harry’s illness being caused by the Weasleys’ concoctions, but quickly dismissed that thought. The twins wouldn’t have given them anything that wasn’t safe. He hoped it was the flu, and not a curse that had been cast on Harry during their trip to Diagon Alley.

He really shouldn’t have left Harry go off on his own, but he wanted Harry to have some freedom. Harry wouldn’t do well being trapped in this house, nor being watched constantly.

Snape walked down to his office to await Madam Pomfrey’s arrival, leaving Harry’s door open so he could hear if anything was amiss. Madam Pomfrey didn’t take her time in coming; she arrived mere minutes after Snape entered his office.

Snape led her to Harry’s room, where the boy was sleeping fitfully. Madam Pomfrey dropped her bag on the edge of Harry’s bed and began casting diagnostic spells while Snape hovered at the foot of the bed. After several spells, one flared red and Madam Pomfrey frowned. She cast several more, all of which had the same reaction. She put down her wand and turned to Snape.

“I suppose it could be worse,” she said cryptically.

“What?” asked Snape impatiently.

“He has Wizard Flu,” said Madam Pomfrey.

“Well, that’s not too bad then,” said Snape.

“It can be, though. Normally, a magical child will contract it when they are young or will get the proper immunizations before coming to Hogwarts. It’s much more dangerous at Harry’s age. I don’t think that he’s had any Wizarding vaccines,” she said.

“What are we supposed to do then?” asked Snape.

“Treat him as you would a regular case of the flu, only with stronger doses of potions,” said Madam Pomfrey.

“All right,” said Snape. Madam Pomfrey picked up her bag and selected several bottles from it.

“I’m sure you know how to brew these already, but here are some to get you started,” she said as she handed him the bottles. Snape only glanced at them briefly before returning his attention to Harry. He felt a hand on his arm and resisted the urge to shake it off.

“Severus, this is not your fault. You couldn’t have known that he’s susceptible to Wizarding illnesses. The castle was spelled to protect students from them. Your house isn’t and Diagon Alley certainly isn’t. Just take care of him and he will be fine,” said Madam Pomfrey. She pressed the bottles into his hands. “I need to return to Hogwarts now. Make sure you Floo me if he gets any worse. I’ll see myself out.”

He heard a quiet click as the door was shut behind her. Snape set the potions on Harry’s desk and dragged the chair over. He brushed Harry’s hair off his face and heard Harry moan softly.

“It’s all right,” said Snape softly.

Harry’s eyes flickered open and he whispered, “Dad?”

“Yeah,” said Snape.

“I don’t feel good,” said Harry quietly.

“I know. Madam Pomfrey says you have the flu,” said Snape.

“Oh,” said Harry and closed his eyes.

“Rest, Harry,” said Snape.

***

Harry was feeling better several days before Christmas and finally ventured downstairs for breakfast. He grimaced at the food and sipped at a mug of hot chocolate. He still wasn’t ready to stomach real food.

After breakfast, Harry lay on a couch in the living room with the book of fairy tales Snape had found in his room. Harry was situated near the fireplace with a thick knitted blanket while Snape sat with a copy of the Daily Prophet.

His brow furrowed as he read of another small attack, this one closer to Hogwarts. What was going on with all these small attacks? Nearly no one had been hurt, so they seemed pointless... unless the attacks were a distraction for something else. He didn’t like to think what that might be.

On Christmas Eve, Snape sent Harry’s friends’ presents for him, and had Harry bring anything else he had downstairs. When Harry arrived with his brightly wrapped and oddly shaped package, he had Harry set it under the tree, then presented him with the colorful Wizarding sock he had gotten for him. Small trinkets and candy were already in it and would appear on Christmas Day.

“Hang it on the windowsill,” instructed Snape. Harry did so, and then turned back with an expectant look on his face.

“What do we do now?” he asked eagerly.

“Now you can light the candles,” said Snape. He handed Harry one of the lit ones and watched as the boy bounced around, excitedly lighting the candles that adorned the tree. When that task was done, Harry held the candle out to Snape.

“You keep it. We have one more thing to do, then it’s off to bed for you,” said Snape. He led Harry out to the entrance hall and enchanted the window in the door to hold the candle.

Harry set it carefully in the window and asked, “Can’t I stay up a little later?”

“You have to be in bed for Saint Nicholas to come,” said Snape.

“There’s no such thing,” said Harry.

“Are you so sure?” countered Snape. “Now off to bed with you.” Harry rolled his eyes and complied.

Once Harry as in bed, Snape collected the gift he had gotten for Harry and the ones that Dumbledore had sent along from his friends and placed them carefully under the tree. Then he too went to bed.

~Harry’s POV~ Harry woke when sunlight began streaming into his windows and jumped out of bed. He hurriedly dressed and ran downstairs, where he found Snape in the living room, drinking a cup of coffee. He held out a mug of hot chocolate to Harry, who took it and had a sip of the hot liquid. Harry set the mug down on the table beside Snape.

“Is it time for presents yet?” he asked.

“Go ahead,” said Snape. Harry rooted through the pile that had mysteriously appeared overnight and found his present for Snape.

He held it out to Snape and said, “Open mine.” Snape set aside his coffee with a smile on his face and took the package. He had a difficult time in getting it unwrapped, even having to resort to his wand several times. Snape smiled again when he saw the various bottles.

“These are very thoughtful of you. Thank you, Harry,” said Snape, sounding quite pleased. “Now go open your presents.”

Harry obediently complied, kneeling beside the tree and grabbing the first gaily-wrapped package he could get to. It was large and box-shaped, and he opened it to find a box full of Wheezes. Harry heard Snape groan softly from his chair.

“I promise not to use any of these on you,” said Harry with a grin. He pushed the box aside and picked up a smaller package. He ripped the paper off and found a small jewelry box with a folded square of parchment.

***

Harry,

Your dad helped me with this. I hope you like it. It’s called a Worry Stone. All you need to do is hold it in your hand. I can assure you it’s perfectly safe to use. Ask Snape if you want to know more about it.

Ginny

***

Harry set the note on top of the box of Wheezes and opened the box. Inside was a smooth red stone, with swirls of pearly white twisting and whirling inside. A thin black cord was threaded through a tiny hole in the stone and Harry immediately looped it over his neck.

He glanced quickly up at Snape before closing his fingers around the stone. He felt relaxed almost immediately, but hurriedly dropped the stone, not wanting its effects to mess with him at the moment.

The next package he opened was from Ron and contained a variety of sweets. Hermione’s gift was a set of wildly colored inks, even one that changed colors and one that was multi-colored.

Mrs. Weasley had sent the usual Weasley jumper, green with a white ‘H’ on it. Lupin had also sent sweets.

Finally, he found a package that was covered in glossy dark green paper. Harry carefully ripped it open, revealing a small, flat box. He opened it and found a delicate chain of woven silver. Tiny runes were affixed to it at regular intervals. Harry stood and went over to Snape.

“What is it?” he asked curiously.

“It’s an amulet of sorts, designed to protect you from evil. I was told it would block simple curses as well. I’ve got the twin.” He lifted a matching silver chain from under his collar. “It’s completely undetectable by anyone you don’t tell that you have it.”

Harry took it out of the box and struggled with it for a moment before Snape took it and hooked it around his neck for him.

“Thanks, dad,” said Harry.

“You’re welcome. Now, why don’t I sent these up to your room and we’ll go have breakfast?”

“’Kay,” said Harry. Snape magicked the presents upstairs and they headed to the dining room, Harry feeling truly happy for the first time in a while.

***

The next day, Harry got up late before wandering downstairs. Voices in the living room distracted him from his original destination of the dining room and he headed there instead.

Inside, he found Ron, Hermione, and Ginny sitting with Snape.

“Good morning,” he greeted as he seated himself beside Ginny. The redhead immediately leaned on him. Ron and Hermione gave them odd looks.

“I’m not hiding anything,” Ginny declared loudly.

Snape looked between the two couples and said, “I’ll leave you four to sort this out.” He abruptly stood up and left the room.

“You two…aren’t together, are you?” asked Ron uncertainly.

“And who cares if we are?” retorted Ginny. Ron let out an angry huff, but didn’t comment. “Any objections, Hermione?” asked Ginny with a fierce look on her face.

“No, none,” said Hermione.

“Good,” said Ginny and smiled.

***

The rest of the day passed by quickly, as did the rest of the holidays. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny visited them several more times, much to Harry’s delight.

On the last day of Christmas break, Harry and Snape Portkey’ed back to Hogwarts and met up with his friends in the entrance hall. Harry said goodbye to Snape and went upstairs to settle back in.

Their regular routine was quickly re-established, with classes, visits with Snape, and Harry and Ginny hiding in their secret room.

The small attacks continued, getting closer and closer to Hogwarts. Harry didn’t like the feeling that they gave him. He knew the final battle was drawing ever closer, and he knew that he was going to have to prepare if he was to defeat Voldemort.

He had to be ready to take on Voldemort and win. He didn’t want Voldemort destroying his and countless numbers of peoples’ lives. Voldemort would not win. He would make sure of it.

Ginny finally brought up the topic one night in their secret room.

“What are you going to do about Voldemort?” she asked. Harry chew on his lip a moment before answering. “I think Avada Kedavra will work, but it just doesn’t seem enough, you know?”

“It’s just that he seems immortal. The best way is to bring him down is with a spell,” she said. Harry jumped up and thought on that for a minute.

“Ginny, you’re a genius!” he declared, kissing her cheek. “No one thinks he’s human. He was brought back with flesh and blood, that makes him human. He took my blood, his father’s bones, and Wormtail’s arm. He’s human, he bleeds, and I’m going to make damn sure everyone else knows that too,” he said forcefully.

“What?” asked Ginny.

“I’m going to make him bleed at my hand,” answered Harry.

“Remember what Snape said. Don’t dwell on things like that,” reminded Ginny.

“I’m not dwelling on it. I know exactly what I’m going to do,” said Harry.

“Okay,” said Ginny. “Are we going to want the D.A. in on this?”

“No,” said Harry.

“But what if you need back-up?” she asked.

“I won’t. This is going to be between me and him. No one else is going to be hurt because of me. He’s not going to be able to hurt any of my friends,” said Harry.

“But--”

“No, I don’t want you there either. He’ll just use you against me. I don’t want you getting hurt,” interrupted Harry.

“If that’s the way you want it, then,” she said slowly.

“Yes,” he said firmly.

***

Snape seemed to be having the same thoughts as Ginny. He summoned Harry to his office several days before the end of the month.

“Harry, he’s getting closer to Hogwarts. He’s coming for you and I want you to be ready,” started Snape. Harry stood up and paced in front of Snape’s desk.

“I know, dad. I know he’s coming for me, and when he does, I’m ready for him,” he said forcefully.

“Harry--”

“I know, you told me not to dwell on things like this. I’m not, I’m just saying that I know what I’m doing when he comes,” interrupted Harry.

“And if things don’t go according to plan?” asked Snape.

“Then I’ll just wing it. I got lucky the other six times, didn’t I?” He sat back down with a flourish.

***

As the attacks mounted and Voldemort and his forces drew ever nearer, Harry began to feel nervous about the impending battle. He knew what he was going to do, though, and hopefully that would be enough.

On the very last day of January, the thirty-first, Harry had a strange, foreboding feeling that something was going to happen. He was distracted in all of his classes, and when he messed up a simple step in Potions, Snape fixed him with a strange look but didn't comment other than to tell him to start his potion over.

With classes finally over for the day, Harry escaped up to the Tower and up to his dormitory. He stowed his bag away and hid behind the curtains of his bed. He rubbed absently at his forehead and lay down, though he wasn't tired at all.

What was Voldemort planning? The attacks had gotten so close. The teachers all looked worried, as though they were expecting Voldemort to burst in at any moment or something. He closed his eyes and slowly felt himself being pulled into an uneasy sleep.

***

Harry woke gasping for breath. This was the first time in months Voldemort had managed to break down his shields.

He dived out of bed and tugged on his robes. Voldemort was coming. He had to get ready. This was it. It was all coming down to this, the final battle.

“What're you doing?” came the sleepy voice of Ron.

“I'm going for a walk. Go back to sleep,” said Harry as he picked up the knife that had remained hidden in his trunk all this time.

“'Kay,” said Ron sleepily. “Be careful.”

“I will,” said Harry. ‘And you'll be safe in bed while I do this,' he thought.

He tugged on his shoes and left the dormitory. Almost in a daze, he walked down the seven flights of stairs and stood in the entrance hall.

‘I'm waiting, you bastard,' he thought viciously. Almost as if Voldemort had heard his thoughts, the doors slammed open and in strode Voldemort, alone. Harry's scar burned, but he ignored it. He had more important things to deal with, like taking out Voldemort.

Suddenly, he heard a door bang open and a voice call out, “Harry!” Voldemort smiled and Harry turned with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“Severus, my traitor, so nice to see you again. I heard you've acquired a son. Too bad you won't be enjoying him any longer,” Voldemort purred. He raised his wand and made a slashing movement with it.

“Dad, no!” cried Harry as a streak of purple slashed across Snape's chest, sending him flying backwards. He ran over to Snape and felt tears prick his eyes.

This was the same curse Dolohov had used on Hermione in the Department of Mysteries. The one that would have been lethal if Dolohov hadn't been silenced… No!

Snape couldn't be dead, he just couldn't. There was so much they hadn't done together, so much they'd never said… He'd never gotten a chance to tell Snape how much he loved him either.

White-hot fury blazed through his chest. This was all because of Voldemort. He stared up and glared furiously.

“Aww, is wittle Harry cwying?” mocked Voldemort.

Harry glanced back at his father's body and this time, felt love course through his veins. ‘Do it now,' he could almost hear Snape say. He knew what to do.

He raised his wand and cried, “Avada Kedavra!” just as he heard footsteps skidding to a halt on the grand staircase. Voldemort's eyes betrayed his shock as the green curse made its way toward him, then slammed into his chest, sending him to the ground.

Harry stared at the spot where Voldemort lay, feeling cold numbness spread throughout his body. Voices buzzed around him now, but he ignored them. He had one final thing to do.

Harry numbly pulled out the silver knife he had brought with him out of his pocket and held it in a firm grip. He started forward and felt hands grab his robes.

“No, I have to do this,” he said as he shook himself free.

He knelt beside Voldemort's body and held up the gleaming knife. He paused and looked at Snape's body, then plunged the knife into Voldemort's heart, sending thick red blood everywhere. He stayed where he was, frozen with shock.

“You're done,” he whispered fiercely as he felt tears streak down his face. “You're finished, you evil bastard.”

And there, his energy dissipated, and he collapsed onto Voldemort's bloody corpse.

~Snape's POV~

Snape woke feeling as though he had been trampled by centaurs in the Forbidden Forest. He groaned a he opened his eyes and found himself in the hospital wing.

Slowly, details of why he was here trickled into his brain. The last thing he remembered was Harry yelling as a purple curse shot towards him. Harry! What had happened to him?

He quickly sat up and gasped as pain shot through his ribs. He clapped a hand to his chest and tried to calm his breathing as Madam Pomfrey approached.

“Where's… Harry?” he choked out. The Medi-Witch averted her eyes. “Where?” he demanded.

She glanced slightly to her left, drawing Snape's attention to a bed completely surrounded by white curtains.

“He had no external injuries that I could find, but he hasn't woken up at all,” she said quietly.

“How long?” he asked.

“Three days. You've been out for the same time. That was a really nasty curse, but I think its effects weren't as strong because of this.” She held out a scorched metal chain. Snape took it and examined the ruined necklace.

“What happened?” he asked her.

“Harry killed You-Know-Who, then stabbed him in the heart with this.” She picked up a blood-crusted knife wrapped in a bit of black cloth. Snape recognized it immediately as one of the Snape family relics he kept hidden in the basement of the manor.

How had Harry gotten it? So many unanswered questions, and Harry only lay in the bed next to him.

“I want to see him,” he announced.

Madam Pomfrey narrowed her eyes. “You're staying in bed until you are healed,” she said.

“He's my son, and I want to see him,” he exclaimed.

Madam Pomfrey pulled out her wand. “You're not going anywhere, even if I have to immobilize you.”

Snape glowered, but lay back down.

“Good, now stay there while I fetch your potions.”

***

Several days later, Snape was growing antsy. Madam Pomfrey was forcing as many potions as she could on him and she wouldn't let him leave his bed at all, not even to see Harry, who was still unconscious.

Late one afternoon, though, when Madam Pomfrey thought he was asleep, he overheard her talking to Dumbledore.

“…most likely traumatized. I think he believes that if he remains asleep, he won't have to face reality.”

“Perhaps having his friends around will get him to wake up.”

After that, Harry's friends began visiting him regularly. Once or twice, he was sure he heard Ginny Weasley in there crying.

He longed to be able to ascertain Harry's condition himself, but Madam Pomfrey kept such a strict watch on him that he never got a chance to even try and escape his bed.

Then, ten days after he'd woken up, Madam Pomfrey finally let him leave his bed for a short while to see Harry. Madam Pomfrey pulled back the curtains surrounding Harry's bed and Snape carefully walked the few feet across.

He sat in the chair Madam Pomfrey conjured and looked at Harry's still form. His face was pale against his dark hair, giving him the very image of death. Snape grasped one of Harry's limp hands in his own and heard the curtains slide closed behind him.

“Harry, please wake up. Madam Pomfrey says you don't have any external injuries, but she doesn't know why you won't wake up. I want to know that you are really all right.” He paused, feeling awkward. He'd wanted to see Harry since he'd woken up, but the words he wanted didn't seem to want to be vocalized.

He brushed Harry's hair off his face and noticed that Harry's scar seemed to be fading. On a whim, he pushed up Harry's left sleeve and saw that the Dark Mark was gone. He checked his own left arm and saw that his Mark was gone too.

“We're free,” he said quietly. “Wake up so you can enjoy your freedom.”

But Harry didn't wake up. Nor did he for the next two weeks. He showed more signs of life, though.

Snape would wake frequently hearing Harry whimpering softly, but the boy would never open his eyes. Madam Pomfrey finally confided in him her fear that he was afraid to face reality.

Snape grew even more worried at hearing this, adding to his restlessness.

~Harry's POV~

Harry drifted in a sea of his memories. He would watch one occasionally. They were sometimes good and sometimes bad, but they no longer bothered him. Nothing compared to the anguish he'd felt when he'd seen Snape cursed by Voldemort himself.

He'd rather stay here, trapped in his own mind, then face a world without his father. He stayed there a seemingly interminable time in silence before he heard voices. They sounded like Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. He could swear that he heard crying several times. But no Snape, the one voice he truly wished to hear…

More time passed, and suddenly, Snape's voice broke through his thoughts.

“Harry, please wake up. Madam Pomfrey…”

He was imagining things, he had to be. Snape was dead, he had seen him die. He shook off the tiny thread of hope that had affixed itself to him and tried to stay rational. It wasn't possible for the dead to come back to life. Dumbledore had said that when Sirius had died.

But that was when the nightmares started. The final battle replayed in his mind, only this time, he plunged the knife into Snape's chest. Then Sirius would appear and say how he had killed another father, that it was his fault.

And after each nightmare, Snape's voice would talk to him, calming him, but at the same time, setting him up for more nightmares.

After one particularly nasty one with Snape's corpse getting back up and blaming Harry for his death, he was once again greeted by Snape's voice. But this time, it wasn't soft and comforting. This time, Harry heard pleading in Snape's voice. He was pleading for Harry to wake up.

Harry was desperate to settle the question of whether Snape was alive once and for all, but his instincts were telling him to stay in this world, where everything was fine and safe. But this world was no longer his. It was too full of memories that made him feel sick and cold inside.

He finally came to a decision. He would show his Gryffindor bravery once again and if things were like he expected, he would deal with it. He wouldn't hurt himself again, not again, but he would live. That was the important thing.

~Snape's POV~

Snape gripped Harry's hand after his latest nightmare. He had been released from the hospital wing, but spent the nights there so he would be with Harry if he needed him. This nightmare had been particularly bad, and Snape found himself breaking down to pleading with Harry to wake up.

He was nearly about to give up for the night when Harry's eyelids fluttered, the slowly opened to reveal dazed green eyes. Then, those same green eyes widened and Harry jumped backwards. He rested on the palms of his hands, panting slightly, as he stared at Snape.

“You're… you're…”

“alive?” finished Snape for him. “You should have seen me a month ago.”

Harry shook his head. “I saw you… die.”

Snape attempted a small smile as he held up the ruined amulet. “Seems some things turned out to be quite practical. This absorbed the power of the spell, keeping it from killing me,” he said. “As you can see, it's quite useless now.”

Harry blinked several times in rapid succession. “So… so, I wasn't imagining things when I heard you?” asked Harry in a thick voice.

“No, I've been here every time you had a nightmare,” confirmed Snape.

Harry bit his bottom lip and looked even closer to breaking down completely. Snape sat on the bed and put an arm around Harry.

“I'm still here, and I don't plan on leaving for a long time,” he said gruffly as Harry turned and pressed his face into Snape's robes. Snape put his other arm around Harry as the boy soaked his robes with tears.

As his sobs subsided, Harry looked up and said quietly, “I love you, dad.”

Black eyes met glittering green eyes, and Snape tightened his hold around Harry.

“I love you too.”

***

Several days later, when Madam Pomfrey was assured of the health of her patient, Harry was released in time for dinner in the Great Hall. Snape brought him robes and after Harry changed, they walked down to dinner together.

Harry was tired from the exertion, but managed a grin when the whole of Hogwarts stood as one for him. Snape walked with Harry to the open seat beside Ginny, then continued on to his seat at the staff table.

“Welcome back to Mr. Potter!” Dumbledore proclaimed before raising his hands and making dinner appear.

***

Harry finally had the chance to have a normal life. He went on dates with Ginny, went to classes, and ended the year with high marks in all of his classes, including Potions. A celebratory spirit seemed to have taken over the Wizarding world, and Harry's exit from the Hogwarts Express in June was cause for much excitement.

Snape met Harry at King's Cross with a Portkey, and they quickly escaped the hordes of people after Harry said goodbye to his friends.

***

Summer passed by quickly and Harry entered his seventh year at Hogwarts. Harry achieved the NEWT's he needed to become an Auror, but declined to apply. He also turned down all other job offers. He had something to do that was much more important: settle down with his family.

Harry had proposed to Ginny Weasley in the spring, and after she graduated from Hogwarts, they had plans to be married. Harry planned for the ceremony to be as small and quiet as possible. That would be fairly simple, as it was to be held on the grounds of the manor.

In the meantime, however, Harry planned to spend the year having fun with his friends and getting to relax for a change. If anyone, Harry definitely deserved to have a bit of peace and quiet. He shouldn't have had to earn it, but now that he had, Snape was going to do his damnedest to make sure Harry got it.

~One Year Later~

Harry grinned at his new bride before kissing her gently. Loud cheers and catcalls filled the air. He grasped Ginny's hand and they walked back down the aisle to go to the area that had been designated for the reception.

Snape gave him a quick hug before handing them both brooms. They zoomed over the house to more cheers.

When they dismounted, Ginny tossed her broom aside and began detangling her dress.

“Harry Potter, you are insane! Flying a broom in a dress, that was the craziest thing I have ever done!” said Ginny.

“So you don't count marrying me as crazy?” joked Harry.

“Of course I do. Anyone who wants to marry someone of this insanity level has to be insane herself,” said Ginny.

“Insanity it is, then!” said Harry, feeling giddy.

Once the guests had gathered and formed a circle around Harry and Ginny, music started and the couple began to dance their first dance. The music played softly as the two held each other close, knowing how close they could have come to this not happening, how the world could have been completely different if Harry hadn't succeeded.

A new day has… a new day has…

I was waiting for so long

For a miracle to come

Everyone told me to be strong

Hold on, and don't shed a tear

Through the darkness and good times

I knew I'd make it through

And the world thought I had it all

But I was waiting for you

Hush, now

I see a light in the sky

Oh, it's almost blinding me

I can't believe I've been touched by an angel with love

Let the rain come down and wash away my tears

Let it feel my soul enter my fears

Let it shatter the walls for a new sun

A new day has come…

Harry hugged Ginny tightly as the song ended before handing her over to let her dance with her father. Harry found Snape sipping a glass of champagne.

“The new Mrs. Potter looks lovely,” said Snape.

“D'you… ever get the feeling that history is repeating itself?” asked Harry suddenly. “Like, in this weird and twisted way?”

“How do you mean?” asked Snape as he spun the now-empty glass.

“Well, my mum had red hair, married a man with black hair, was with you and had me. Now, I've married a redhead,” said Harry.

“I see no reason to worry, well, at least until you have another little look-alike of you.” Snape laughed. “And more Weasley children, please spare me.”

Ron and Hermione had gotten married too, several months after they'd left Hogwarts.

“Those two having kids? That'd be a nightmare!” exclaimed Harry.

“Just wait, you'll be wanting some before long. It'd round off your little family quite nicely,” said Snape. Harry pulled the glass away from Snape.

“Just how many of these have you had?” he asked.

“Enough,” said Snape cheerily.

“Don't come crying to me tomorrow when you've got a hangover,” said Harry as he vanished the glass.

“I've got potions,” said Snape as Harry walked over to meet Ginny. Ron and Hermione met the couple as they left the dancing area. Both were aglow with happiness.

“Congratulations, you two,” they said.

The night ended with a spectacular display of Weasleys' Wildfire Whizbangs. Harry and Ginny held each other close the entire night, basking in the pleasure of having no worries for the moment.

As the fireworks sizzled in the sky, Harry said quietly, “I love you, Mrs. Potter.”

“I love you too, Mr. Potter,” replied Ginny.

~Three Years Later~

“Dad! Help!” Harry cried as two screaming toddlers chased him around the living room. Snape laughed and scooped the wriggly children up, one in each arm.

“Were you chasing daddy again?” he asked them.

“Da da fun!” exclaimed the little red-headed girl, Lily Anne.

“Lots fun!” added the little boy, a carbon-copy of Harry, James Severus. Both had their father's green eyes.

“I'm sure he is fun. How about we go play with the bubbles again?” suggested Snape. The two children's eyes widened.

“Yes!” they both exclaimed.

“Come on then.” He carried them out of the room, giving Harry and Ginny a much-needed break from their babies.

“Finally,” said Harry as he sat down with Ginny and wrapped an arm around her. “But it's nice having a family, isn't it?”

“Yeah, they're so adorable,” said Ginny as she leaned against him.

“Just wait til they go to Hogwarts and dad has to teach them Potions.” He snickered and Ginny managed to give a small smile. “So, who gets the Marauder's Map and who gets the cloak? Or should they share them?”

“Harry Potter! They won't get either!”

~Nine Years Later~

Harry and Ginny hurried the twins to the barrier that hid Platform Nine and Three Quarters.

“We're going to be late!” exclaimed Ginny.

“No we won't mum. There's still other people going through the barrier,” said Lily.

“And if we are late, we can always go find a flying car, like dad did,” said James.

“No, you won't. I better not get any letters from the school about you two getting in trouble,” said Ginny.

“Relax, Ginny, they won't get in trouble,” said Harry.

Little did Ginny know, he had already provided the twins with the Marauder's Map. The Invisibility Cloak could wait until they were older. They both knew all about the secret passageways and how to get into the kitchens. Harry had even made sure they knew who Dobby was, in case they ever needed his help.

“We'll be good, mum, I swear,” said Lily, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

“You'd better,” said Ginny. “Now, one of you with each of us, I think. Lily, hold on.” Ginny held onto Lily's trolley and led her through the barrier, and Harry did the same with James.

Snape was already at the castle, ready for the students' arrival. Harry and Ginny would be there shortly also, as Harry was the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and Ginny had taken over flying from Madam Hooch. They had wanted to see their children off as a family, though.

“We'll see you at the castle!” called Ginny as Lily and James boarded the train. “And please, don't forget Granddad is a professor, call him sir or Professor at all times!”

“We promise!” called James as the duo disappeared.

Ginny sighed. “At least we'll be at the castle to keep an eye on them.”

“True,” said Harry. “To Hogsmeade, then?”

“Yes,” said Ginny. They Apparated away with two loud pops. Seconds later, they were in the village of Hogsmeade. Ginny and Harry walked up to the castle and met up with the other teachers, who were putting the finishing touches on the school for the new year.

Snape made his way towards them through the crowd and Harry quickly headed towards him.

“Don't be too harsh with Lily and James,” said Harry.

“I'll treat them according to how they behave in my class,” said Snape.

“We've already warned them about calling you Professor or sir at all times,” said Ginny.

“They do know that doesn't count when we're in private?” asked Snape.

“Yes, I'm sure they know that,” said Harry.

“Good, because no matter where we happen to be, we're still a family, and nothing can change that,” said Snape.

Harry grinned. Life was good for him, Ginny, and Snape. He had a family, but most important, he had his father.