Upon their realisation that they may have found a way to reach Ginny, Harry had a surge of energy within himself knowing that there was hope out there after all. He clasped the faded golden coin within his hand like a lifeline as it tethered his newfound hope to Ginny, realising that there was a way to track her. The only concern was when she would eventually realise that the coin was the answer. The coin was likely sitting idly in the pocket of her jacket, awaiting her signal. The only way they could apparate to her, or close enough, was for her to activate the coin, wherever she may be. Once they could obtain a location, it was decided by Snape that it should be carefully scouted before they decided to rain on their parade, wands blazing.

It was well past midnight now as the trio was deep into a discussion when Snape hastily re-directed them to bed until they can go over a decent plan in the morning. They were all exhausted, injured, and seriously lacking sleep, and all were slowly ticking into insomnia-induced delirium. Already Snape was agitated with them, so eventually, all four of them dispersed to their respective bedrooms to attempt a night of rest. Well, somewhat.

Harry was too energised to sleep. All he could think about was bringing Ginny back safely. And it was his own idea when he unknowingly sparked the idea of the coin. Neither Hermione nor Snape shot it down, so it had to be a good solution. He couldn't help but overthink all the possible scenarios, and he hoped above all else, that she was unharmed. The more he thought about it, the more dreadful he began to feel about it.

Feeling anxious again, he shut his eyes tightly, trying to subdue his racing mind. Thinking back to his Occlumency sanctuary, he tried to envision himself soaring high on his Firebolt once again, but his mind was far too much into overdrive to focus on anything of the sort. It didn't help, so he eventually dismissed that idea as it wasn't doing him any good at this time. Finally, upon hours of staring hopelessly at the peeled ceiling, he eventually drifted off to sleep.

Still exhausted from the events of the previous evening, Harry eventually rose up at about ten in the morning and made his way to the kitchen for some well-needed nutrition. He was feeling rather dehydrated and his stomach was grumbling to the point where it ached. Kreacher had prepared a spread of breakfast on the table for the early risers – It was usually Hermione and Snape these days – leaving the remaining ham and cheese omelettes sitting idly on the table with a warming charm for the others. As Harry entered the kitchen, he found Snape tucked away on the other side of the room with a mug of tea and a half-eaten croissant at his side. His pale face was mostly hidden behind the Daily Prophet he was reading.

Upon seeing the paper, Harry groaned to himself a little too loudly, causing Snape to lower the newspaper and arch his brow at the Gryffindor.

Harry looked sullen, as he stormed into the room, "Don't even read me the headline, I really don't,/i> want to know."

Pursing his lips, Snape threw the paper down on the table and picked up his mug. He stared at the exhausted-looking teenager, taking in his disheveled appearance, "Rough night, Potter?"

"Yeah, wonderful, " Harry was clearly in a grumpy mood this morning. A combination of frequent insomnia and witnessing Ginny being taken from him the previous night. Yeah, he was in a fabulous mood.

"Nightmares again?"

"No, just...overthinking."

"Did you practice – "

"- Yes, I tried that bloody Occlumency thing! And no, it didn't help, " Harry snapped, as he breathed heavily through his nose like a bull at a gate. He paused to try and calm himself.

Clearly irritated by the boy's mood, Snape gave a heavy sigh of frustration, as he took a sip from his tea, "You are exceedingly lucky you are no longer a Hogwarts pupil in my class, otherwise I'd have you scrubbing cauldrons by hand for a month with that attitude of yours."

Pouring himself a glass of orange juice from the pitcher, he slumped into a chair closer to the center of the table away from him and helped himself to the other omelette, ignoring Snape's previous comment. He couldn't allow the man to fire him up and he wouldn't give him the satisfaction. He picked up his fork and knife and proceeded to impale the omelette with a little more aggression than usual, causing Snape to further frown as he watched with a mixture of amusement and concern for the few minutes following. Harry was unusually transfixed with his meal, that he didn't realise Snape was staring at him the entire time. Halfway tearing through the omelette, Harry slammed down his cutlery to take a sip of his orange juice. Harry made no effort to hide his frustration.

"Easy, Potter. Any more antagonistic, and your cutlery might just fight back, " Snape's armored languid tone pierced through the awkward silence.

Harry almost choked on his juice, "Sorry, sir. I'm…stressed out."

"…Clearly."

Leaving half of his meal behind, Harry slid his chair back causing a screech as he stood, enough to make them both cringe at the sound, "Have you seen Hermione?"

"The usual. Upstairs, in the sitting room buried in books, " Snape noticed Harry hadn't finished his meal, "Potter, sit back down and finish your meal."

Harry frowned as he looked sourly at his half-eaten plate of food, "…I'm not hungry."

Initially, Snape frowned but gradually allowed his expression to soften, "I've barely seen you eat or drink anything at all since I've been here. You'll need your strength."

"Yeah, well, you barely eat anything either, " Harry bit back.

Snape's expression suddenly turned sour, "Don't argue with me. Just do it, Potter." He knew full well his appetite was also wretched, but definitely not as bad as Harry's. Looks as if stress had gotten the better of both of them, "Finish it, then you can leave."

Clenching his jaw, Harry sat back down and picked up his cutlery, finishing the meal without the added anger behind it. He ate the remaining meal in silence, leaving Snape to continue reading the Daily Prophet, occasionally peering over the top to observe that Harry complete the request. Once Harry was done, he rose from the table, and made his way upstairs without another word.

Harry climbed up the staircase still in a foul mood and wandered into the sitting room to find Hermione sitting alone on the floor beside the roaring fireplace, surrounded by books.

She looked up and smiled at Harry, "Oh good, you're awake. Ron's still snoring away," She crinkled her brow, "I've been trying to think of alternative solutions for Ginny, but I'm afraid I've not come up with anything better them simply…waiting for her to use the coin."

Harry sat down beside her, "Yeah, I figured that was the case. Tracking won't really work either, will it?"

Hermione shook her head, "No. It'll just direct us to the others. Multiple coins will interfere with it."

Harry paused in thought, "Would it be possible to track with something else? Like maybe, her wand?"

"I did think of that, but from what I could research into magical tracking, nothing in these texts mention anything about tracking using a wand as the primary object, " Hermione flipped some of the pages of the large aged tome in front of her, as she continued to look, "We could definitely try that, but we'd have to go beyond the wards without interference. Although, I'm not sure what the limitations are in casting a spell on an actual wand."

"How does the spell work, exactly?"

"The Avenseguim Charm can enchant an object to quite literally, guide you in the right direction, " Hermione explained, "However, it cannot pass through activated wards. So, it may not be able to give us an exact location, but close enough."

Harry paused in thought, "So we just…follow it? I can't say I like the idea of following an enchanted wand through Muggle areas. Can we use any object?"

"The more personal the object, the clearer the pathway," Hermione stated, then shrugged, "It's worth a try. Though I must suggest we don't attempt this in the middle of the day. Just in case it goes awry. Far too risky."

Harry looked worried. He really didn't want to wait until nightfall.

Noticing Harry's worried look, Hermione continued, "As long as she refrains from taunting them, she'll be fine. We'll run this plan with Snape and get his advice."

Harry nodded, "Sure, I suppose."

He watched as Hermione slammed one of the books shut and reached over to the other tomes in front of her and pulled out a worn-out dull grey book. The book appeared centuries old. The cover was faded and Harry could barely make out the silver diagram of the lunar phases on its surface. There were scratch marks on the cover and on the bindings, and the pages themselves seemed to have pages torn from them. Harry watched as she placed it in front of her and began to flip quickly through the pages until she reached a double page with an image of something being pulled out from a man. It reminded Harry of a Dementors' Kiss being performed.

"Blimey Hermione, when did you have time for all this?"

"I spent a few hours at the Hogwarts library yesterday. When we got called away, I, well…Borrowed them, " Hermione shrugged, "Madam Pince wasn't there to see and no one else is there. So, I brought them back here."

Harry leaned over to see the page, and slowly began to read the inscription on the title, "'Anathema Excerptum'. "

"Curse transference, or extraction," Hermione leaned forward to Harry, so neither of them can be overheard, "I spent a little extra time in the Restricted Section. I found a few variations of spells to this effect, but this one seemed more logical. The removal of a curse is essentially a branch of dark magic. But this spell doesn't actually involve using any dark spells. It's more circumstantial that makes it dark. The spell, and potions, are especially complicated. And very time-sensitive. "

Harry scanned the first page for the potion's ingredients, and frowned, "Why do I get the feeling most of these ingredients aren't found in your average potions lab?"

"Some of it will be, regrettably, problematic to obtain."

Harry continued to scan the pages, but became more confused as he read on, "…I don't know what I'm reading."

Hermione drew in a deep breath, "Alright. For this spell to have any effect, a potion must be consumed in conjunction with three full lunar cycles. Each potion takes fourteen days to brew and must complete its final day, on the day of the full moon. Now, if you recall our first Astronomy lesson, each full lunar cycle is approximately 30 days. So effectively, this entire incantation should take us through three months."

Harry's face fell, "That's worse than brewing Polyjuice potion."

"Much worse, " Hermione continued, looking no doubt worried, "Now, the potion itself acts as a stabilizer; protecting the magic of the person inflicted and preventing their magic from interfering with the final extraction. There is a separate potion that takes the entire three months to brew and is consumed on that final full moon night, with the third protective potion. That potion aids to transfer the curse itself."

Harry drew in a deep breath, "This kind of sounds like a disaster, Hermione."

She shook her head, "The potions themselves are straightforward to brew, but it's the ingredients I'm worried about. But there are several factors in this spell that must be considered. As I mentioned, this spell is very time-sensitive. Forty-eight hours before the full moon, the inflicted must go into a complete fast. That also means they won't be able to consume any other potions whatsoever because that will greatly counteract the potions they must take with the incantation. Unfortunately, he won't be able to take any other antidotes, or even any supplementary potions to counter his side effects only during those forty-eight hours."

Harry bit his lip, "That's not going to bode well."

Hermione shook her head, sadly, "No, it won't. We can for the remaining time, but just not for those two days prior. But the protective potions he will take will hopefully, alleviate some of that. The spell also requires a new vessel; either living or object. Something personal."

"What? Like…A Horcrux?" Harry shook his head, "Nope, we can't do this. This was a bad idea."

"Yes, and no. A Horcrux is an object housing a trapped soul fragment. We're dealing with a curse here. All we are doing to transferring it from one vessel to another. The curse isn't sentient, Harry, " Hermione placed her hand on the book, "The object he chooses must remain with him during the duration of the full moon, once he consumes the potion and chants the inscription that will ultimately, and gradually, shift the curse. Until its final extraction."

Harry swallowed down rising bile within his throat, "…Will it hurt?"

Hermione's face fell, "I-I don't know. The potions he will take will protect his magic and himself, from the negative effects. But, according to this book, the curse can retaliate if not done correctly."

Harry hesitated, "Is there anything in there about it being…successful?"

"I did further research about spells much like that one, and there have been charted incidences where it has been successful. But mind you, this spell is complicated, and not many people have performed it. But then again, Snape's situation is also unique, and well…It's a shot in the dark."

"When's the next full moon?"

"In about three weeks' time. So if we do this, I will have to start brewing both potions in a week, and we must have everything we need very soon."

Closing his eyes, Harry leaned back against the couch behind him. What an absolute disaster. There are just so many things that could go wrong with this spell and all Harry could think of were the negative effects. Fasting? Hell, they wouldn't even be able to give him his antidote at all during those two days. This could potentially leave him far weaker than before, and would he even have enough strength for that final potion? The potential ramifications of this spell seemed horrifying, and the thought of even explaining this to Snape sent dread right through his bones. There was no way he was going to agree to this.

And what happens if it doesn't work? Snape may not even have more time, or life left, to try again. Neither one of them knew what kind of time the man had, because it was all just guesswork. For now, they were just doing their best to manage the man's symptoms as best they could. How long could they keep that up? Harry was worried by the thought of finding Snape unconscious or bleeding out somewhere because of the unpredictable advancements of the curse. Snape was currently spending his remaining time either keeping them all safe or teaching them what they needed to survive, and the least Harry could do, was make the effort.

Harry told Snape he would do whatever he could to try and help him, and this spell was right up there with one of his biggest leaps of faith yet. He didn't want to feel guilty for not trying hard enough. He couldn't back down on that.

Harry finally opened his eyes as he turned to Hermione, "We're going to have to tell Snape. He'll need to help us with the potions, otherwise, we're just wasting time."

"I think convincing him will be more difficult than performing the spell in its entirety."

"Wonderful," Harry sighed, "When we do, you're coming with me to explain it to him. He's not going to take this well from me… "

Hermione paused, with an odd look of uncertainty, "…Unless, we don't tell him?"

"…Please tell me you're joking?"

"Well, if we told him now, he'd likely flat-out refuse. In fact, I'm certain he would. But once we go through all this trouble…Perhaps he'll see that we are willing to go this far for him?"

"Yeah, and presenting him with a rare concoction of a potion as a surprise gift on a full moon is going to go down real well for him, " Harry sighed, "Where will we brew this? We definitely can't do it here."

"Hogwarts. We can use one of the private potion labs. No one is going to be using them for a while. If on the rarity that Hogwarts is resuming again, September is far well in advance for us to get this done before then."

"You know Snape's going to figure out what we are up to very quickly."

"Think about it – If we tell him about this now, is he really going to let us continue with it?"

Harry paused in thought, "No, he really won't. "

"Look, I can go ahead and brew it myself. These instructions aren't all complicated, and it's more the time-consuming part of it that will be a little frustrating, " Hermione closed the book in front of her, "I'll make a parchment copy of this, and give the potions list to Neville. If he can find us the herbs we need, we can try and find the other rarer ingredients. " Hermione started to gather all the books, and slowly stood up off the floor, "I'll go and wake Ron and we'll make a trip back to Hogwarts and see what we have to work with in the potions stores. Maybe Snape has some rarer ingredients hidden somewhere."

Harry slowly picked himself up off the floor, looking worried, "I hope we can pull this off."

Hermione shrugged, "If we can sneakily brew Polyjuice Potion in our second year between classes, then surely this won't be as bad. Besides, don't worry. I've gone through this spell multiple times, researching each ingredient. There is no counteraction. This will work if we do it right. It will just take time."

Harry nodded, as he looked concerned, "Yeah, I know. I'm just worried we'll run out of time."

Hermione reached out to place a reassuring hand over his shoulder, "We'll do what we can, alright? Keep an eye on that coin for Ginny. Perhaps you can discuss the tracking with Snape? As much as I don't want to wait until nightfall, that's the safest way we can go about this."

"I'll deal with Snape."

Harry watched as Hermione took a few steps forward, then turned on her heel to face him again. Her voice dropped to a whisper, "If I were you, I'd focus on practicing Occlumency."

Once Hermione finally exited the room, Harry hung his head, "Great. Wonderful."

Harry was then left standing alone by the fireplace, wondering how things got terribly stressful, very quickly. Once he was done processing her final words, he gradually made his way to the couch and sat himself down, lost in his thoughts. For the most part, he was glad Hermione was confident about it because he sure wasn't. Was hiding this from Snape, of all people, really the best idea? The man was far too attuned to what was happening around him, and Harry would be surprised if he could keep himself from spilling the magical beans until they started the brewing process. Snape already knew he was a terrible liar and the idea of trying to keep something like this from him made him super anxious.

What an absolutely daft idea.

And Occlumency? He could barely use it to stop a panic attack, let alone block his mind off to one of the most skilled Legilimens of all time. He'd know if he was prying into his mind…right?

Don't be stupid, Harry. Speak one word wrong, and he'd know you're lying.

Now he felt panicked.

Trying to distract his mind to something else, Harry rummaged inside his denim jean pocket, as he retrieved the DA coin, and proceeded to flip it several times in the palm of his hand. It was almost as if he expected to immediately teleport to Ginny's side. He had far too many pressing issues at hand, and two of them had their own delicate time restraints making both considerably complex to deal with. Harry had hope, above all else, that Ginny remained unharmed. He couldn't begin to imagine how they would be treating her, or the conditions she was thrown into. Without her wand, she was rendered essentially powerless. The idea alone caused Harry's stomach to churn.

Resting back on the sofa, Harry closed his eyes as he drew in a slow deep breath, followed by a long exhale. He allowed the sound of the crackling fireplace beside him to fill his core with a comforting warmth, as it helped provide him will a well-needed sense of calm. He could hear a slight whistling of the wind against the arch windows in front of him, echoing behind the sound of his breath. The Spring morning allowed rays of light to pierce through the windows and Harry could feel the sunlight on his face. He allowed those sounds to help him emulate the sanctuary he created for himself within his mind. Flying high on his Firebolt, amongst the clouds on a slightly breezy, yet sunny day. No sounds of a bludger tearing past his head, or the sickening raspy voices of Dementors on his tail. No heavy winds or plummeting rain and bolts of lightning to knock him off his broom. No attempts on his life mid-flight.

Just much-needed nothingness as he allowed his mind to soar with something he so desperately wanted to do again.

Slowly, Harry opened his eyes, feeling almost a little drowsy yet unusually relaxed. Like waking up from a pleasant dream, and now he wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed with that lovely thought planted into his mind. Feeling a little more in control of himself, he took another breath and exhaled just before he rose up from the comfort of the sofa. Still holding the coin, he wandered out of the door and paused just before the descent of the staircase. He didn't hear a thing upstairs, so Hermione and Ron must have left already. Harry must have been so focused on his sanctuary, that he likely didn't hear them bolt down the stairs to leave. Instead, he heard consistent coughing reverberating from downstairs. Taking another deep breath, he made his way downstairs to find all the other floors empty. Instead, he followed the sound to the basement.

Instantly, he crinkled his nose at a putrid smell that reminded him of a combination of petrol and old socks. As he descended the basement stairs, he saw Severus Snape hunched beside the bench coughing persistently. The man held a grey cloth to his mouth, and Harry could see that it had spots of blood seeping through. Grabbing the nearest wooden stool, he dragged it across the stone floor and planted it beside Snape without a word. Snape wildly felt for the chair beside him and lowered himself onto it. Allowing himself a moment of rest due to the over-exertion and persistent coughing, Harry watched the man attempt to regain control once more.

Pointing to the cauldron beside him, Snape managed to choke through the next few words between haggard breaths, "Two…tablespoons…dried lavender…Stir anticlockwise…Until aqua…"

Jumping straight into it, Harry proceeded to add the lavender and began to stir the boiling pot, allowing the scent of the newest ingredient to dominate over the putrid one he smelled earlier. Taking a few side glances at the man struggling beside him, he turned his attention back to the cauldron. He had no idea what he was even brewing.

Snape slowly spilled the next set of instructions between the raspiness of his breath, "…Twenty milliliters…salamander blood…Use dropper…"

Immediately reaching for the teaspoon, he did a double-take and swapped it for the measuring dropper beside the flask of salamander blood. Drawing it out carefully, he added the required amount to the cauldron, watching as the contents darkened to a murky aqua color. Harry's eyes darted beside him, as he noticed Snape watching him carefully.

"…Add stewed mandrake…Already prepared…There…" Snape pointed to the dish on the other side of the table, which Harry recognised as mandrake. "Two drops…flobberworm mucus…Stir clockwise four times…"

Harry proceeded to add the stewed mandrake, and the mucus, proceeding to stir the ladle beside him. He watched as the bubbling mixture turned from a dark aqua to a ruby red in the time it took to completely stir.

"Now, adjust heat…to simmer…Eight minutes…"

Adjusting the burner to the required heat, he watched as the flames reduced, changing the bubbling to a calm simmer. Harry reached for the stash of empty vials in the storage box on the shelf on the other side of the room, and pulled out a handful, as he lay them out ready onto the workbench. He looked over to Snape who had since turned away and mopped the stream of blood from the corners of his mouth. Setting the timer, Harry leaned against the table not knowing how else to help him.

"Did you…need anything else?" Harry was concerned.

Snape merely shook his head wearily and pointed again at the potion simmering in front of them. Perhaps it was some variation of a cough suppressant or analgesic. Harry wasn't sure. The potion did not appear familiar to him, and he was certain he hadn't learned this particular one in potions class before. Perhaps it was Snape's own brew. He could only wonder what else the man knew. It made Harry feel slightly guilty that he did pay close enough attention in Snape's class. Maybe he would have learned a little more if he had properly followed instructions like he was supposed to. The Half-Blood Prince had a plethora of knowledge at his disposal, and yet Harry spent most of his classes horsing around with Ron and not taking things seriously.

It was no wonder Snape was always mad at him.

Feeling slightly uncomfortable with the growing silence, Harry pulled up the other chair and planted it in front of the table, a small distance from Snape. He didn't feel comfortable leaving him here just yet, as any more of a coughing fit, would surely send him toppling to the floor. Harry was in no way a healer by any means. He could barely perform a successful Episkey charm on a small cut. He wouldn't know what to do if the man decided he wanted to collapse right in front of him. Perhaps he could fire those kinds of questions at Neville since he'd been volunteering at St. Mungos in the last three weeks since the Battle of Hogwarts. At least how to manage certain symptoms, somehow. If Hermione and himself were seriously planning this transference spell, then they had to learn alternative means to treat his symptoms during the required fasting. Perhaps it was even a good idea to obtain some Muggle books to help them with that.

So much to do, so little time.

Within the silence between the odd pair, Harry picked up the DA coin he left on the table in front of him and stared at the fake Galleon. There was no time nor place on its surface. It was left blank, to await the next call. Now it seems like its purpose was not only to summon those for a meeting but to call them during times of danger. This coin was no longer just a secret messenger. But a beacon, to call him to his comrades. His friends. And family. Waiting for Ginny's call that may never come was more than agonising for him.

Snape tilted his head at the boy, "Staring at it…will not activate it any sooner. " Harry could hear his voice slightly hoarse but was returning some of his breath, much to his relief.

"She's smart, she'll figure it out, " Harry responded automatically, still staring at the coin, as he twirled it in his hand. "Do you think it's possible to track her using her own wand?"

"Possibly."

"Possibly?" Harry wasn't sure if the man's response was sarcastic to his request, or he likely didn't know for sure.

Snape slightly cleared his throat, slowly wincing at the obvious shot of pain that it created, "…What is her wand core?"

"Hmm…Dragon heartstring."

"Do you know…which one of you…have the same core?"

"Hermione does."

"Then…it is possible. It is most effective…when two matching wand cores…call to each other. As you are very…well aware." Suddenly, the timer began to ring, and Snape pointed back to the cauldron, "Remove from heat…allow to cool…"

Retrieving his wand, Harry turned to the burner and extinguished the flames. Then he retrieved the heat-proof gloves from the table and placed them on his hands as he removed the small cauldron from the burner and its tripod, placing it on the cold marble slab beside it.

"I'd like to try tracking with it. Hermione and I decided it was best to do it at night since we'd need to go beyond the wards," Harry slumped back down on the chair, "I just can't wait around for this coin to signal, sir. It may not be for another day until Ginny realises to use it."

"I will not allow you…to leave, Potter."

"I'll go with Hermione, that way we can both use the Cloak. Any sign of danger, then we're out of there," Harry sighed, "Any progress is better than none. If we can eliminate an area, then we're still one step closer to finding her."

"Far too dangerous."

"We were on the run for nine months, camping out in forests, and getting hunted and frequently pursued by Snatchers and Death Eaters. So, don't lecture me on danger, sir. I know full well it's dangerous. But so is leaving Ginny out there on her own. When are you going to learn to trust me?"

Snape ran a pale, slender hand over his face, eventually allowing his head to be held in his hand and resting his elbow on the table as he did so. Snape's face was hidden now at this point, but it was likely for the best that Harry didn't see what he was dealing with. Snape gave a heavy sigh and said nothing.

Turning his sight away from the man, Harry re-directed his attention and stared back at the coin in his hand. Subconsciously mirroring Snape, he gave a heavy sigh, "Why are you so worried, anyway? We can handle this. We're not eleven anymore."

Snape still was unable to form a response. Tilting his head in the direction of the man, Harry watched as he began to shift his hands and plant them on the table in front of him, clasped unusually tight together. His fingers and knuckles were white as paper. His raven hair shook with each shuddering breath, still unnervingly raspy, and became the only sound in the room that Harry could hear. He still couldn't see the man's face, but it was clear Snape was fixating his gaze on the vacant stone basement wall ahead, almost in a daydream. A man so usually focused and controlled was slowly crumbling before him. And Harry knew it was not just the illness that was slowly eating away at him. Clearly, his mind was just as plagued as Harry's.

Still twirling the coin within his hand as he waited for the potion to cool, Harry decided to take this opportunity of silence from the man in an attempt to get back some sort of moral sense. If Snape were deciding to be begrudgingly unhelpful now, then maybe he would be able to properly listen to Harry this time. Whether it sparks a response from the man or not, Harry did not want to seem careless. Harry cared. But with Snape, it was incredibly difficult to express the genuinely of that to him. The man was so seemingly emotionally limited, that perhaps it was just that difficult for Snape to accept. Was it really that easy for Snape to appear so careless? Surely not.

"You know, sir. Back at the Forbidden Forest, when you taught me how to send a message with your Patronus…" Harry bit his lip, refusing to look at the hunched brooding Snape beside him, "The message I sent you, about not giving up? They weren't just empty words. I meant it," Without a further response from Snape, Harry continued, "Back in my fifth year, I was against the idea of starting up the DA. That was Hermione's idea. She convinced me that it was a good decision, so I trusted her word for it. We hoped for a teacher and they all elected me because of my…well, experience. Many lessons later and knowing I helped them develop their skills, made me feel…less worthless. It gave me a purpose. Looking back on that, I don't know what I'd be without them. And not just a study group to spite and rally against Umbridge, but…to fight together. Even now. Sure, I wanted to give up restarting it again because I didn't want anyone else to get hurt. But even now, I'm glad I did decide to unite them again, with encouragement from Hermione, Ron, and Ginny...In going ahead with it, I chose not to give up. And from where I see it, you chose not to give up too. I know this because you're still here sitting next to me, listening to me rambling on."

Harry stood up from the chair and began the process of filling up the small round vials. He picked up the beaker and began to ladle the now-rusted red color of the potion directly into it. He then proceeded to carefully pour it into each empty vial, as orderly as possible without spilling a precious drop. Once he was eventually done, he corked each of the ten vials in front of him and slid them off to one side while he did his best to clean up. Snape was still seated in the same spot, unmoving.

Was he in some kind of shock or something? It was strange behavior, even for Snape.

Once Harry was done, he sat back down where he was before, retrieved one of the vials, and carefully placed it directly in front of Snape's line of vision. After a short while, Snape decided to finally spring into life again, as he picked up the vial gently, uncorked it, and gradually poured the contents into his mouth. Harry watched cautiously as the man downed the liquid, and soon enough, Snape's raspiness began to ease and he no longer looked like it was a struggle for him to breathe.

Harry felt instantly relieved.

But as soon as Harry shifted to leave, he felt a heavy hand reach for his shoulder and rest there, gradually relaxing in grip. They both sat there for several moments, unmoving. Harry wasn't sure how to react to that gesture, as he never expected such a thing from him. It was strange, and yet so very unpredictable with this man. Perhaps he didn't know how to truly respond, so he went with a simple comfort. A gesture that would usually mean so little to someone else, but for Harry – and even Snape – that meant more than words could ever express.

Harry turned to Snape, but Snape struggled to do the same. He could see the side angle of the man's face now; a mixture of anguish, and a haunting sorrow that Harry wished he could erase. Snape moved to speak, but no words came out. He watched as the man retracted his hand and looked away.

Harry gently shook his head, and spoke quietly, "You don't need to say anything. I just wanted you to listen. But…thank you." Harry offered the man a light smile, but he knew he wasn't looking his way again. Instead, Harry stood up and silently made his way to the stairs, where he got a last glimpse of the man sitting hunched by the table before he made his way back up to the main floors.

He didn't know exactly what that was, but it further fuelled his drive to help him.