The night drew closer, finally signifying the end of the ill-fated Order meeting that occurred earlier that day. Snape barely revealed himself for the remainder of that evening, only showing up once to re-check the wards on the residence, and poke his head through the dining room door several times to make sure Harry Potter and his friends were still present.

Harry was constantly relaying the day's scenarios in his mind, trying desperately to convince himself that he said and done the right thing. He had an exceptionally good reason to be angry with his fellow classmates for their uncalled-for behavior. He spent enough of his fifth year receiving harsh accusations and taunts for his supposed claims on the return of Voldemort, sparking much controversy within that year. Many people didn't believe him, and they didn't hesitate to tell him that. They treated him as a liar, and that set Harry's blood boiling. But regardless, he couldn't bear to see anyone else be attacked with such murderous accusations, especially from things that many failed to hear or understand. He had already told everyone about the truth of Snape's allegiance, and yet so many people didn't want to believe it.

The Gryffindor was already well aware of Snape's worst memories – Especially during their final Occlumency lesson when he realized his father and his friends bullied Snape in their youth. Despite their complicated history, he will not allow that to happen again. Harry's feelings about Snape were extremely complicated, but he'd be damned to let anyone else be treated like that, especially in front of him. The thought of what the man must have endured on a personal level made Harry sick to his stomach. It was no wonder Snape took the dark path.

Harry couldn't help but think that it could have been his fate, too. The only difference is that he had good friends who defended and supported him. Snape, sadly, did not. Lily only was, to an extent. She kept him grounded until that fateful day. Did Harry forgive the man for all of his past transgressions? Definitely not. But he could understand his reasoning for those mistakes, and admittedly, Harry would have made the same mistakes had he not surrounded himself with good people.

During their downtime that day, Harry eventually asked Hermione to help him brew another antidote, as Snape quite obviously didn't want to even think about it. He couldn't help but feel slightly annoyed about how much the man didn't seem to care about his own life, and yet risk it even more so to save another. As if he is so willing to accept his fate so easily. There was something about the way Snape reacted to him volunteering to brew it, that bothered him. He still couldn't understand how a simple ingredient could be left out. Was it Snape's way of telling him that it wasn't going to work? Or was he surprised that Harry was willing to put in the effort to ensure that Snape survives? If there was any possibility of survival.

There just had to be one, right?

He was determined to make this work. He had to at least try. Snape obviously couldn't care less at this point, but he had to. Someone had to.

After Harry voiced his concerns to his friends, the four of them ventured back into the basement to begin work on brewing the antidote. As the group spent some time gathering and preparing the ingredients, Harry retrieved the spare Basilisk fang from his storage, ready to use. They immediately got to work talking among themselves, but Hermione seemed very unsure.

"Harry, you're not going to like what I'm going to say, but…I don't think this is going to work."

"Well, it has to. We know he left out that ingredient on purpose, " Harry exclaimed, hoping that Hermione was not about to convince him otherwise. But the more Harry looked upon the concerned face of his best friend, the more he felt like this was just a wild shot in the dark.

"That's stupid. Why on earth would he do that?" Ron asked.

Harry sighed, hesitating to tell his friends the sensitive information, "You know the state we found him in. He…he was prepared to let himself die."

"How do we know this antidote is going to actually cure him? Is it even going to work?" Ginny asked.

"I've been thinking about that since we found out, " Hermione turned to Harry, "Asphodel is a key ingredient, yes, but given Snape's condition…He was horribly bitten multiple times by Nagini. That snake was cursed with dark magic. A simple antidote likely won't cure it."

"We won't know until we try it, Hermione," Harry bit his lip, "Besides, this is no simple antidote. We used the Basilisk fang to destroy Horcrux'…Why won't this work? Nagini was a Horcrux."

"Perhaps that is specifically why it won't work. Because she was a living Horcrux, Snape wasn't. We are not using it on her but on the Professor. Also, don't forget that Voldemort enhanced her with additional magical protections. For all we know, he intended to curse her venom, so that any victim could not survive it no matter how hard they tried. He would have done anything within his limitations to make sure that snake was essentially invulnerable. I mean, he reanimated the dead, for goodness sake. What couldn't he do?"

"A supercharged Horcrux. Great, " Ron interjected, "Also don't forget, Voldemort struck him down before Nagini attacked. We know this because we saw it happen. That curse from the snake has probably halted his healing, for all we know."

Ginny shot them a look of distaste, "That sounds like a ghastly way to go. Besides, Harry, you told us that Dumbledore was already dying. How did that happen, exactly?"

Harry focused on the simmering cauldron in deep thought, throwing in the mint sprigs, trying to think back upon one of the memories that Snape gave him. Sifting through each memory from what he could recall, he closed his eyes and tried to focus on the one which contained a conversation between Dumbledore and Snape. Oh, how he wished he had the Pensive with him. Eventually, he managed to recall that moment. The Gaunt ring. The blackened hand. Dumbledore's death sentence. Snape attempting to prolong his life. Harry's eyes opened again, and immediately; he felt the blood rush from his face.

Concerned, Hermione stepped closer to him, "Harry, what is it?"

With a bitter note, Harry slowly looked up at Hermione. He couldn't tell if his heart sped up, or simply stopped. His chest hurt with the rising dread within him, "The ring. The bloody Gaunt ring. It cursed Dumbledore. That was his death sentence."

Silence swept over the group, and Hermione let out a small gasp as she realised, "Oh – Oh no. Of course. He didn't know it was a Horcrux when he put it on. That makes perfect sense."

Harry nodded glumly, "Yeah. Even after the ring was destroyed, it still cursed him. It was going to kill him eventually, had he not asked Snape to do it for him," He ran a frustrated hand through his messy hair.

"Blimey, " Ron stood there, aghast. "So…Snape's doomed, then?"

"– Harry…" Hermione knew this was not going to work. And yet Harry tried to convince himself that it would.

"Look, let's just brew this and get it over with. It's better than doing nothing – If this will extend his life, then that's what we'll do. He deserves that much, " Harry averted their worried gazes, and focused his attention on the cauldron in front of him, trying his best to ignore the rising feeling of impending dread. His heart felt heavy.

Several hours later, the four Gryffindors had finished brewing the antidote, leaving eight vials of the freshly made teal-colored liquid sitting on the table. Without a word, Harry snatched up the vials and made his way upstairs to pay Professor Snape a visit. He made a detour into the kitchen and asked Kreacher to prepare some soup and sandwiches to take upstairs. He had never seen him eat anything, since the day he salvaged what he could from the kitchen at Hogwarts. His appetite was just as bad as his, it seems. Eventually, he found the ill-stricken man occupying the master bedroom on the second floor – The same room that Buckbeak used to inhabit when Sirius still lived there. Giving the door a few light knocks, he stood idly by waiting for an answer. He knocked a few more times, but still nothing.

Mustering up the courage, he opened the door slowly and shivered from a mild cool breeze that wafted through the room. Peering through the darkness of the room, he squinted to discover that the window was slightly ajar. The whistling of the wind howled against the windowpane. On the edge of the old four-poster bed, was Snape sitting up and clasping a cloth to his nose. The cloth, as Harry could see, was stained with fresh blood, and beads of sweat ran down the man's ghostly white face. He sat hunched over the edge of the bed, now absent of his dark purple dress coat in all but his white undershirt. Harry looked away briefly, to give the man some shred of decency.

Snape warily looked up at Harry entering the room, "Knocking would have been adequate, Potter."

"I did. You mustn't have heard me, and I…" Harry hesitated, and shook his head instead as he watched the man mop up the blood from his face, "It's getting worse, isn't it?"

Once Snape was done, he performed a cleaning spell on the cloth, removing all evidence of blood, along with the stains trailing down his shirt. He said nothing at this point, and all he could convey was a look of wary distaste as he pursed his lips. Harry didn't want to admit it, but he looked miserable.

Harry carefully set down the food package from the kitchen and began to line up the vials of the new antidote beside it, leaving one resting in his hand. Lifting it up, he extended it towards Snape as he sat down beside the Professor, "Here. And don't argue with me on that this time."

Snape frowned, as he observed the boy with all curiosity. Eyeing the vial in his hand, he gave a small sigh, "You are wasting your time." Despite that, he took the vial gently and began to observe its contents, scrutinizing every pristine drop; opening the cork top, and allowing his nose to linger over the scent. He tilted his head towards Harry, "Passable...but this will not work, Potter."

"But, how do you know if it will?" Harry's shoulders slumped over as he sighed, "Just try it. Please? It's better than nothing -"

"You misunderstand – "

"– No, I do understand. You led me to believe that this was going to fix it, right? I thought you were going to be honest with me?"

"I never said I wasn't. I never led you astray. Yet again, you are twisting my words."

Harry bit his lip, "Look, I get it. It's the Horcrux, isn't it? That's why your…condition…can't be cured. You knew, didn't you? That the antidote was unlikely to actually fix it?"

"I'm a dying man, Potter. It is not complicated."

"Actually, yes, it is. You'd gladly risk sentencing by the Ministry because you don't think you'll live long enough to make it through it. Is that it?"

Snape spoke softly, "The antidote will prolong my life, but not eradicate the curse running through my veins. I will only grow weaker as it progresses. That is my fate – to share the fate of the man that I murdered."

"It wasn't murder, and you know that," Harry scowled, feeling frustrated with the man, "If you're going to ask me to kill you, then you have another thing coming. Just take it. Take the antidote. Please."

Harry was pleading with all desperation, in hopes this man would not give up. He cannot give up yet – They've come so far already, and it seems the both of them were fated to help each other in the end. In no way was Harry going to allow this man to succumb to this so-called fate of his. Perhaps Harry was in denial that he was about to lose another person in his life – no matter who they were – but to Harry, this was more than just giving up on life. This was about a man giving up any possibility of a proper life, finally free of the previous constraints that ruled over him. Perhaps Snape was afraid to continue; not quite knowing where he stood in this new world. Perhaps Snape had convinced himself that there was no more happiness to be found. Perhaps Snape didn't realise what his second chance truly meant, as McGonagall had already explained that to him.

Maybe Snape believed that he was not worthy of that second chance and that his life meant nothing.

What more could Harry Potter do? How can you help a man who was once your enemy? Two unlikely souls now given such a renewed opportunity to be different than they were. To be better than they were. To make better choices. To learn to find any ounce of happiness that may be left, despite their losses. To learn to trust and have faith in another.

Perhaps they both longed for any sense of belonging or even family, but neither felt courageous enough to admit it.

As a strange, yet unusually comfortable silence befell them, slowly Severus Snape – deep in thought himself - re-opened the vial in his hands once more and drank the entirety of its contents in one go. Placing the cork back securely, he set the now-empty vial gently at his bedside. For several unwavering moments, Harry could see the worry etched in the aged creases of his face, which could barely be seen with the dull lamplight casting obscure shadows. If Snape weren't already staring at the empty vial, he could have sworn he even appeared…afraid. Snape's breaths began to gradually stabilize, and a tiny flush of color now appeared on his skin, causing him to appear less ghostly.

Digging into the pocket of his frayed jeans, Harry finally retrieved the tiny Resurrection Stone he had picked up from the forest floor earlier that week. He spent days holding onto it, not knowing what to do with it. But given this grim turn of events, it seemed obvious to him now. Holding it in the palm of his hand, he turned to Snape, "Do you know what this is?"

Signaling Snape's attention, the man turned to Harry's palm to observe the strange black crystal glistening against his skin. He raised his eyebrow, "What exactly am I looking at?"

"It's the Resurrection Stone. One of the Deathly Hallows. Did Dumbledore ever mention it?"

"Hmpf. He never spoke of it, " Snape paused in contemplation, "The Three Brothers…Correct? My mother used to tell of the Tales of Beedle the Bard in my youth, but I don't recall them. That was far too long ago."

"Well, the Elder Wand was one of the Hallows. Then the Invisibility Cloak. And lastly, this. It was more than just a story, Professor."

Snape looked sour, as realisation washed over his face, "…That blasted wand. Of course."

"The Resurrection Stone – Dumbledore gave this to me before I…well, died. In the Forest...By Voldemort. It can bring back someone temporarily who has passed -"

Snape's dark eyes grew wide, as he drew back "- Why would you show this to me?"

"I just thought, perhaps you wanted to use it? On one condition that you limit –"

Suddenly, Snape's face twisted into a snarl, "NO. Destroy it. Bury it. I do not want it in my sight!" He paused, then looked away sadly. "I refuse to meddle with such a thing. I understand very well the ramifications of that. You should, also."

"I saw my mum and dad that night with it, Snape. With Remus and Sirius. They helped me get through it. Maybe it can help you, too."

"My answer is still no."

"Why not? It might help – "

"So, your mother can be further disappointed by me? I think not."

Harry shook his head, "No, I don't believe she will."

"Potter, you fail to comprehend… " Snape cleared his throat, as he continued in his usual meticulous tone, "I'd feel – ashamed - to face her. I have no doubt in my mind, that she would not approve of me. She may even still hate me for all that I've done."

"No, she wouldn't. She would have never hated you, sir."

"Your persistence in your supposed understanding is undoubtedly annoying, Potter."

"Fine, " Harry closed the jewel frustratingly into his palm, and placed it back into his pocket, "I just thought it might help give you some…I dunno, closure? Reassurance? Just…let me know if you change your mind. Did Dumbledore ever tell you much about the Horcrux's?"

"I knew nothing of the Horcrux's – Albus only instructed me that the snake must be killed at the last moment. Presumably, he must have anticipated that the Dark Lord would attempt to extract those details from my mind. Approach Professor Dumbledore about it if you so desire."

"The portrait? I'd rather not."

Snape gave a light snort, "You and me both, Potter. I haven't faced the old fool yet."

"He kept a lot from the both of us. I don't blame you for being angry…He asked an impossible task of you."

Snape nodded, "Indeed he did. And yet he mercilessly left us both to deal with the aftermath. Astonishing, isn't it? Speaking of which, " The man slowly rose up from his perch on the bed and clasped his hands neatly behind him staring at the young Gryffindor with an impassive gaze, "Enough reminiscing and frustrations aside for the time being. Downstairs in twenty. Don't forget your Gryffindor entourage, Potter. We infiltrate my residence, tonight. Any objections?"

"Not at all, sir, " Harry shook his head and made his way to the door.

"Good. Don't be late."

"I won't be. Just make sure you show up this time, sir."

"Watch that cheek, Potter."

With a shadow of a smirk, Harry made his way downstairs to join others and round them up for the next mission, feeling unusually confident with himself. At least, he was able to get that antidote to him, much to the man's extreme disapproval. He did enjoy picking the man's brain, of which he was surprised Snape could reveal that much information to him, however. At least there were no more actual secrets this time, or a dark wizard to hide your mind from, or Death Eaters to fool. If anything, it all felt slightly surreal. Never did Harry think that this would have ever been possible. For the both of them. It was amazing how much they could discover about themselves when Snape wasn't the school bully, or Harry didn't try to fight against him. Harry was older and more mature now, and it seems he understood the notoriously broody Potions Master more and more, and yet it also seems as if Snape has grown to tolerate him after all. Finally.

It only took six school years, and Snape finally stopped seeing Harry as James. He often wondered what his father would think about this entire bizarre turn of events. Actually, he thought about that a lot. Would his father have been proud of him now? Or worried, that he has decided to seek camaraderie with the man he bullied relentlessly in school? He wanted those answers so desperately, but even he knew using the Resurrection Stone for such a thing, may not work as he hoped it would. Snape was right – did either of them want to know?

Perhaps some things are best kept secret, after all.

Harry stood in the entryway corridor of Grimmauld Place with Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, waiting for Professor Snape to join them. It was like the Forest incident all over again. Hopefully, this time, it will end up without a fault.

"You sure he's going to show this time?" Ron shoved his hands in his jacket pockets, "If he bails on us again, then that's it, I'm going home."

As Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron's remark, Snape chose that moment to glide down the staircase with his black billowing cloak trailing behind him, which always seemed to have a mind of its own. He always did have impeccable timing. The man stopped just beside Ron, with his arms crossed over his chest, peering at the Weasley – no longer down, as Ron was now identical in height - with his eyes narrowed and unnerving, like the feeling of sitting back in Potions class again, "Somewhere else you'd rather be, Mr. Weasley? Don't allow me to interrupt your busy schedule."

Ron shrugged, looking slightly uncomfortable, "Well actually, sir…"

Snape sighed, as he eyed each of his unlikely team of lions with slight disdain, "Of all students to be anchored to, it's the big-headed, danger-seeking, rule-breaking ensemble of Gryffindors. Lucky me."

"Breaking the rules is kind of our specialty, though, " Harry couldn't help but grin.

"To be fair, this feels like you're marching us to detention in the Forbidden Forest, " Ginny smirked, "Nothing we haven't done before. So, where exactly are we going, sir?"

"Ah, how I miss deducting points from Gryffindor. Opportunity wasted, " Snape's expression remained deadpan; his voice resonating, "Now. Our mission is this – A few Death Eaters were spotted amongst my residence in Cokeworth, Spinners End. From my knowledge, Aurors were sent there to eradicate them, but they were outnumbered. We are to Apparate there and disarm them."

"Wait, you live there? We're going to your house?" Ron questioned, clearly not happy with the idea.

Snape turned his head to glare at him, "Problem, Mr. Weasley?"

"Err, no, sir."

"Good. Once we arrive, I would request that you have your wands at the ready. You will not press forward until you heed my signal. Furthermore, do not cast Lumos. Am I making myself clear?"

Harry nodded, "Perfectly, sir. We know the drill."

"As much as I strongly and personally detest, Side-Along Apparition is our best option, as you're not familiar with the location and where we shall begin. Ready? " Without waiting on verbal confirmation, the Potions professor made his way to the front doors, with the rest of them following closely behind.

It was rather late in the evening now that the moon had well and truly made its appearance. There wasn't much of a Spring breeze, but the clouds thickened overhead as the night progressed. They made their way to the small park across the tiny, private street, and the five of them concealed themselves beyond the thick hedges at the stone wall. Bitterly, Snape extended his left arm, allowing the four Gryffindors to latch on, mere seconds before they were whisked away among Snape's black, smoky Apparition. Reappearing immediately within a gloomy, dark alleyway, the students proceeded to follow suit and withdrew their wands at the same time as Snape.

Motioning them to remain quiet, Snape carefully edged his way down the narrow, cobblestone laneway, being careful to remain within the shadows obscured by the dull-lit windows above them. Besides the unlikely troop – Gryffindors led by a Slytherin – there was not another soul in sight on the streets. There were faint sounds of families in the adjourning houses, clanging on kitchen pots and pans in a bid to clean up after dinner, but Harry guessed this was mostly a Muggle dwelling.

Spinners End was indeed dull and dreary, and not exactly what Harry was expecting. The area itself seemed to adopt the same rows of identical dark brick houses, much like Little Whinging, but this place seemed to be of the much lower class. Harry looked around, observing what he could among the darkness, but as he squinted, he could see the faint outlines of industrial factories in the distance. A few lamps which lined the street appeared broken, and the ones that were lit, cast a haunting glow over the surrounding residences. Harry crinkled his nose slightly, as the gut-churning scent of sewage wafted from one of the small grates in the street.

Watching Ron's identical look of disgust, the redhead fumbled in his pocket to retrieve the jade and silver Deluminator. Snape watched in curiosity, as the boy clicked it once, allowing the dull balls of light to pull from the lamp posts, casting the street further into darkness. Harry heard an impressed hmm from Snape, as they walked further along. A few steps further, Snape extended his wand arm, barring the Gryffindors from walking further.

Snape's voice dropped to a barely audible whisper, "Wait here. Stay alert." Harry and company stayed put as they watched the black-cloaked professor take a few cautious steps forward, with his wand held at the ready. Eventually, the man stopped inches from the end of the alleyway and raised his other hand as if to try and grab something in the air. The students watched in anticipation, as the man seemed to wave his hand at shoulder height, feeling for any traces of magic in the air. He was feeling for the warded barriers. Harry made a mental note to ask him about that later – The group could definitely do with an advanced lesson on warding.

Finally, Snape began to wave his wand with several precise flicks, whispering a set of incantations that neither of them could distinguish. Once a few moments have passed, the man signaled for them to follow. One by one, the Gryffindors followed the Professor and it was not until the moment they stepped through the magical threshold, did they gasp at what they saw before them.

Standing directly at what Harry presumed was Snape's front door, they watched as the entire residence was crackling with wild flames. It was not a sight that one could see beyond the wards as it was so very well-concealed with magic, but it was enough to induce panic for those that could see. It painfully reminded them of seeing the Burrow destroyed in balls of fire from the previous Death Eater attack. The only difference is that Harry had never stepped foot here before. From where they stood, they could see flames rise up against an invisible magical barrier that appeared to separate the house from the other residences, but the flames had just begun to scatter.

This house had not been burning for long, but the damage quickly tore through the building like paper set alight.

They watched as Snape threw the hem of his cloak over his nose and mouth, and immediately burst through the still in-tact ebony black door and raced inside the house now building up with smoke. "Fumus Evanesca!" Snape began to dissipate the rising thick cloud of smoke, enough so that they could see.

Harry followed the man inside, and turned to the burning furniture in the corner, "Aguamenti!" A thin jet stream of water doused the chair, extinguishing the flames he could see. He held his sleeve to his nose, trying not to inhale the fumes. His eyes burned as they watered. He heard a few of his friends coughing beside him, as they struggled much the same. Once Snape disappeared upstairs to deal with the damage there, Harry and his friends swept through the few rooms on the ground floor, trying their best to maneuver through the cramp quarters, dousing flames as they went.

"Oh no, the books!" Hermione sounded devastated, as she stood in the small sitting room, glancing upon all of the charred books sitting in piles on the floor, and remnants of them on the bookcase. The sitting room was free of flames, but the damage remained irreparable.

But just as Snape descended upon the stairs to join them, they were accompanied by four several silver-masked figures Apparating within the residence, wands were drawn out. Immediately, all wands were pointed directly at the opposition, as the tension suddenly ran high.

Death Eaters. They were waiting.

One of the Death Eaters, who they recognized as Macnair, stepped forward, "Well well well, Severus. Consorting with blood traitors and enemies – Gryffindors, no less. Can't say I'm surprised. You disgust me."

Snape gradually walked forward to position himself in front of the students, his wand pointed directly at Macnair, "Give up, Walden. Your master is gone. Dusted. It's over."

They heard a chuckle from the masked man beside Macnair, "It's not over until we are. Did the Dark Lord teach you nothing?"

"I cannot learn from someone who has lost their way. We were pawns. Expendable."

"You're no Saint, Severus. You're a murderer like the rest of us. We all bare the same glorious Mark. "

With narrowed eyes, Snape sneered, "Antonin. How was the Cruciatus Curse? I heard the Dark Lord was highly displeased by your incompetence the night the Minister fell," Snape gave a small smirk at the end.

Dolohov growled from under the mask, pointing a menacing finger at Hermione, "It was that Mudblood's fault!"

"HEY!" Ron stepped angrily forward, but Harry pulled him back.

"Defeated and mind altered by a teenager. Word gets around. My, I could only imagine what the Dark Lord said to you, " Snape looked amused.

"You're nothing but a miserable traitor!" One of the other Death Eaters spoke but was unidentifiable. "I'm glad he rightfully slit your throat! I wish I were there to see you bleed!"

Dolohov was rattling in anger, "You're bloody done for, Severus! We are going to destroy everything you pathetically worked for! We are going to make you regret turning from us." With a forceful flick of his wand, the floor at Snape's feet exploded, sending charred and splintered wood to hit the ceiling. Ron pulled Hermione back and threw themselves to the floor behind the burnt couch, firing curses back at the Death Eaters in return. Snape recoiled backward from the attack, barely steady on his feet, as Harry and Ginny pressed forward battling the others in an attempt to drive them away. Once Snape regained composure, he fought off Dolohov with finesse and the wild array of the mastery of spells at his disposal.

"Serpensortia!" Dolohov chuckled once he spoke, as a carpet python materialized from the tip of his wand and landed with a thud on the damaged floor by Harry and Snape. With that distraction, Harry fired a Reducto spell at the man, sending him flying out through the front door. He averted his gaze to the Potions Professor and watched as the man's face turned deathly white, noticing a slight quiver of his wand hand. His eyes grew wide in shock in the brief hesitation, and Harry threw himself between him and the snake, quickly realising he no longer speaks Parseltongue.

"Vipera evanesca!" Hermione shouted as she stood up, causing the snake to vanish. Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

However, Dolohov, Macnair, and another masked Death Eater dashed out of the front door and Disapparated quickly away, as Severus Snape released the breath he held, and fixed his sleeve in agitation. Snape turned sharply to Harry, his face absolutely furious, "Do NOT do that again, Potter!"

Frowning, Harry lowered his wand arm, "You're welcome."

"Hey, we got one!" Ron called out from the entryway beside Ginny, both with their wands pointed at the remaining unconscious Death Eater sprawled out on the floor, "Another one down."

Hermione cast a non-verbal spell, as tendrils of vines were conjured and slowly wrapped around the Death Eater victim, preventing him from moving upon his waking. She turned to the others, "We'll summon the Aurors to collect him. Ron and I will stay here. "

Nodding curtly, Snaped turned to Harry once more, "Potter. With me. Now."

Worried, Harry followed Snape out of the heavily damaged house, with Ginny trailing closely behind him. Once they were outside of the wards beyond the alleyway, Snape immediately grabbed the front of Harry's shirt with a shaky but firm grip, staring at Harry with madness in his eyes. Harry grabbed Ginny's hand, and the three of them Disapparated and reappeared back at the park across from Grimmauld Place. Without a word, they went inside, slamming the door behind them and setting off the portrait of Mrs. Black again. Sensing an impending heated conversation, Ginny cautiously stepped back into the kitchen to see Kreacher.

"Follow me - " Seething, Snape motioned for the boy to follow him upstairs to the first-floor sitting room, closing the door behind him, allowing them both some measure of privacy.

"What – in Merlin's name – Were you thinking?!" Harry had never seen Snape this mad since the flying car incident in his second year, "I cannot have you senselessly throwing yourself in harm's way."

"You hesitated! What else was I going to do?"

Snape stood a few steps away from Harry, peering madly at the boy, "You stand back, that's what you do. You no longer have the gift of Parseltongue at your disposal. Incredibly reckless."

"Well, I forgot about that, alright? Besides, Hermione had it handled."

"And what if she didn't?"

"It's Hermione, Professor, " Throwing his hands up in defeat, he responded, "You freaked out. You hesitated..."

Snape thinned his lips, "Typical Gryffindor, you are. You could have been hurt. Or killed upon your distraction."

Once a few seconds clicked by, Harry watched as the Professor sat against the armrest of the couch, with his hands clasped neatly over his lap – he looked exhausted. He watched as Snape gingerly shifted his position and yet remained unmoving. The man appeared conflicted; his eyes wandering in deep thought as if he were wrestling with his own moral dilemma. The corner of his lip twitched, unsure of what he seemed to be holding back. Harry could see the man linger his gaze to scan the boy softly.

Eventually, he lowered his head, keeping a neutral demeanor, and lingered on his words methodically, before he sighed, "Potter – you need to listen to me very carefully. We must remain…professional. You are not to risk yourself for me again, understood? I remain here purely on Order business, and to ensure your safety. That is my priority," Snape paused, as he winced at the very words that could potentially crush Harry, "You seem to be seeking solace in the wrong person, and I cannot be the person you need. That must remain clear."

Harry frowned, not quite understanding what he was trying to say.

Awaiting no answer to that, Snape continued, "I am fully aware of what you are trying to do. We've made our truce, have we not?"

"We have, but – "

"And we are working together, are we not?"

"We are now, yeah – "

"Then, for now, that is…enough. "

Harry shook his head in confusion, "Surely you know that's not true. Stop pretending that you don't care. You obviously do, or you wouldn't be here."

Snape recoiled slightly at the statement, "It's not a term I can throw around on a whim, Potter. Those I did care for, died."

"But I get that, Professor, I do. I lost any measure of family that I cared for, and a lot of them died. I know what that feels like. But that doesn't mean I stop caring. You shouldn't either."

He watched as Snape fixated his gaze upon Harry's green eyes, as his voice barely dropped to a whisper, "You are so much like your mother, more than you realise. She would have assured me much the same. But even she had to draw the line somewhere."

"Then if you won't listen to me, then maybe listen to her. What would she think of you like this?" Harry drew in a deep breath.

Snape clenched his jaw, "Don't you dare use blackmail against me, Potter. Your precious Headmaster did the same."

"Is it so wrong that I…" Harry paused in thought, not quite knowing how to voice his concerns, "…Care - What happens to you? I didn't know how to say it before, but…yeah, I actually do give a damn."

"Yes, it's wrong! Because…" Snape averted his gaze away and withdrew like a wounded animal, as his shoulders slumped in a heavy defeat. "I cannot accept your forgiveness. Or your…kindness. I'm incapable of any measure of those things you hold so dear. Do not have pity on me, Potter! I will leave this world soon, and you do not need another blasted thing to worry about."

Harry's heart was burning in his chest as if everything were on fire. His eyes prickled with the tears that threatened to fall, but he tried with every ounce of agony to prevent the floodgates from breaking. Confusion tore through him; he didn't know what to feel because his entire mind was one big blurry mess. After everything they've both endured, Snape was still afraid to get close to him. In all but a few moments, Harry's hopes were crushed. During the last few weeks, he has gotten to know more about the man, than in the entire six years he has known him. He now felt comfortable in the man's presence, and the more they were able to convene, the more Harry realized that Luna and Hermione were right – They still had a lot in common.

But Snape seemed comfortable around him too, or at least more tolerable. With this in mind, Harry felt like maybe, it was possible, that they could reconnect in a different way. Similar to the kind of relationship Harry had with Remus and Sirius – But now that just seemed like wishful thinking. He believed that with all his might, that the possibility of such a relationship was there.

Within seconds, Snape crushed whatever hope Harry had for that to happen.

Harry looked directly at Snape, devastation, and hurt strongly evident on his face. He felt his chest rise and fall with every agonizing breath. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream.

Was it wrong to want something so simple? Who was he kidding – It was Severus bloody Snape. Of course, the man would try and be resistive to such displays of emotion. But the man seemed to forget that he, too, was also human.

After a deafening silence fell between them, Harry lowered his voice and spoke as softly as he could, "Showing you care isn't weakness, Snape. If anything, it makes you stronger. No one deserves to die alone, not even you, " With that, Harry turned to leave, slamming the door heavily behind him.

Harry raced up several flights of stairs, and entered his room on the fourth floor, slamming the door behind him. The moment the door closed, he allowed the tears to fall, clouding his vision as his body shook. Eventually wandering to his bed, he sat down and immediately buried his head in his hands, struggling to focus as every breath felt agonizing against his racing heart. How could he be so stupid to have wished for something more than a simple truce? Why did everything have to be so difficult?

Snape – another person he could not save, and another one to watch die before his eyes.

…All over again.

Harry's heart couldn't take much more of this. Just when things couldn't get any worse, they did.

"I thought that if I owned nothing, had nothing, was nothing, I would have nothing left to lose, and I wouldn't be scared anymore. Because my whole life I've been so damn scared. Scared to live because I was scared to die. But at the same I was so scared of living, so I wanted to die. Or maybe so scared of dying that I refused to live. You don't have to be afraid to fall, when you're already on the ground. You don't have to be scared to lose someone, when there's no one around to lose."

- Charlotte Eriksson

+ + +

Bloody hell.

Severus Snape watched as the boy stormed out from the sitting room, wincing as the door slammed behind him. He sat there for what seemed like an eternity, staring at the door as if the boy would walk back in and add something more to the blow. Instead, he sat in silence, unmoving, and listening to the dull beating of his own heart, attempting to come to grips with his own words.

He had been dreading this moment for a while now – A moment he never thought he would ever worry about in his lifetime. And yet, he needed to let the young Gryffindor know. He needed to know that he was not the man he should be confiding in. What could Severus possibly provide him? Severus did not have the capacity to show the kindness that he desperately sought. He could not show any measure of love, no matter how hard he tried. He could barely show any inkling of compassion that could help ease the boy's troubles. Well, technically he could. But he was very much afraid to. He had no empathy he was willing to show. Unlike Potter, he did not wear his heart on his sleeve. Instead, he kept it buried so deep within his core that no one could see.

Severus wished, deep down, that he was that kind of person. He wished he could be.

He could protect the boy, yes. But the man's limitations did not exceed that to any kind of affection, or care. What good could Severus do? Or be? He was a failure, and he very well knew it. He was too bitter to succumb to such vulnerable emotions. He spent so many years hiding them away, for them now to feel like they deserved to remain locked in the cage within whatever soul he had left.

And yet this wounded him more than he anticipated. Potter was asking the impossible of him.

What was Potter actually expecting? For Severus to hug the boy, console him, and tell him everything will be okay? The pure thought of that left a bitter aftertaste – He wasn't Remus or Sirius. Hell, he wasn't Arthur Weasley – Merlin forbid – but, Severus could not help but be angry that those two dunderheads who got themselves killed leaving him with the emotional clean-up of this lost teenage boy. He truly didn't know how to approach a boy so emotionally scarred and traumatized. This was not what he ever anticipated that he'd be tasked to do.

However, Potter was right – Severus did care, deep down. Way deep down. Even if he didn't know how to truly show it. Or admit it. He couldn't admit it. He was far too afraid to do such a thing. Severus Snape – the bitter Potions Master sulking in the dungeons in self-pity over a life he never wanted, who had the impossible task of protecting the boy of the man who bullied and tormented him for years.

But he is also Lily's son.

Admitting that he too, cared, would be more of an emotional blow for Severus than it would be for the boy. Severus spent so many years maintaining a dark facade, hating on the boy for years when suddenly, he came to realise, that he did eventually feel bad for the kid as cursed with life than he had. The ill-fated final Occlumency lesson appeared to be the turning point, so it seems. It wasn't just a matter of the brat peering into his most sensitive memories, but after that incident, he noticed the boy seemed to change in his presence. He seemed to be more receptive to the man, even though both still had an inherent sense of conflict with each other. Within the man's fury that day, he refused to see the boy as anything more than his arrogant father. It tore Severus apart. But once he realised that the boy did not use those sensitive memories against him as his paternal counterpart may have done, he soon realised that he was less like his father than he led himself to believe.

Severus couldn't help but think back to the night Minerva drove him from the castle. The night when Severus was alerted to the boy, and as headmaster, had the dreaded task of rounding up the students in the Great Hall. Another memory he wished he could forget. He could still see the disappointment in Potter's eyes – Lily's eyes – when he verbally struck him down to his hollow core. Another public shaming, as if he didn't already hate himself enough for what he had become. When he accused him of murdering his closest friend. However, he knew, at that point, the boy did not know the painful truth.

Yet it still wounded him deeply. To feel so truly isolated and alone at that very moment.

And Albus. Albus had another thing coming. It wasn't just a promise to himself that he protect the boy, but it was a promise to Albus, that his allegiance to the Dark Lord was finished. Since that day Severus swore to him, the old fool manipulated and emotionally blackmailed him up until the day he died. But this was what Albus wanted, wasn't it? Time and time again, it seemed he wanted to desperately to throw him and the boy together. Was that the other purpose of the Occlumency lessons that only Severus could teach him? Not only to attempt to teach the boy how to shield his mind but for Severus to sift through the boy's memories in a bid to understand him better. To see him less like his father?

But never did Albus ask Severus as to what he wanted. His entire life was paved to protect the Chosen One. To place the boy under his charred wing, and protect him until his eventual sacrifice. But it seemed as if Albus was never concerned about Severus' well-being. Perhaps he knew that his soul was already too damaged beyond repair.

How dare he. How bloody dare he put me in this position!

Blinking himself back to reality, he drew in a shuddering deep breath and ran a pale hand over his face. Sitting in his own company was agonizing. His own thoughts were agonizing. Clearing his mind of his wayward emotions seemed to drain him more that shielding his memories from the Dark Lord. Perhaps because Severus always found it easy to keep his vulnerable emotions shut away. Releasing them from its floodgates, proved even more difficult to seal them away again once they ran rampant.

Severus' time was limited – Did he really want to spend those last moments pushing away the only person currently alive who no longer loathed his very presence? No, he really didn't. It was cruel, but Severus had to stop the boy. He could not give him false hope. He could not give the boy what he did not have. And yet still, the man cared deep down within whatever part of his soul remained unfractured. It hurt deeply, but it was for the boy's greater good. It was a feeling the man could not seal away so easily, but it had to be done.

Potter will get over it. For his own good.

Severus was scared to get too close to him. He was very much afraid of any kind of attachment because, in the end, someone would get hurt. It happened with Lily, and it sure as hell will happen to Potter if Severus didn't draw the line somewhere. It was crucial for Harry's well-being, considering all the losses the young boy sustained already in his life. Severus should not be one of those people.

Why do I suddenly care so much for the welfare of the Gryffindor? Why now?

Perhaps the broken really do gravitate towards the broken because it takes a damaged soul to understand another. Is this what Albus was trying to tell him for years?

Harry Potter was depressed – That much was certain. The mental toll on the boy given all his suffering has finally settled in, now that the Dark Lord is gone. Within the last few weeks, he has observed the boy carefully and noticed the decline in his usual behavior. Those of which, manifested into physical outlets. The boy was anxious; frightened, even. His anxiety attacks seemed to also be a factor at this point, and he often wondered if he ever took Severus' elixir much at all. The trauma from the battle was proving too great for him to handle. His outbursts were a result of that, and now the boy had made it a habit of picking his scars. He was a ticking time bomb. His appetite was poor – Severus noticed the boy starting to look malnourished and thinner by the day, and yet he was so adamant that he still delivers food to the dying, miserable Potions Master instead.

The boy was clearly not sleeping; the dark circles under his eyes were evidence of that, coupled with obscured judgment. His friends were deeply concerned for him – He could tell. Even they knew he was not himself. During the train wreck of the Order meeting, he could see Potter struggling uncomfortably.

And I keep making things worse for him.

The Potions Master finally stood up, as gently as he could despite the slight uneasiness on his feet as familiar dizziness overcome him. Once the mild wave of nausea gradually subsided, he slowly made his way out of the empty living room, with the intention to reach downstairs. He stopped at the doorway, steadying himself against the doorframe, calculating his next move with a heavy sigh, until he finally made the decision to wander back downstairs, clasping the railings of the staircase as he descended. A part of him wanted to go upstairs and check up on the boy, but he knew given the sensitive situation, that it was a terrible idea. He needed to give the boy some time to defuse.

As he reached the last set of stairs, he watched as the female Weasley ascended at the same time but stopped just before she passed him.

Ginny looked concerned, "Harry alright?"

No, he isn't. Severus clenched his jaw as he paused, eventually sighing, "Go to him, Miss Weasley. I believe he will appreciate your company."

The redhead nodded, "Of course." She continued to make her way up the staircase until she stopped again once she reached the top, and turned around to face the Potions Master once again, "Professor Snape?"

Severus turned on his heel to look up at the redhead, "Yes?"

"I'm sorry about your house. We can try and repair it…if you'd like?"

There was a slight pause as the man pondered that question, but instead, Severus shook his head lightly, "No, that will not be necessary. Not worth the effort. That book is now closed."

He watched as the youngest Weasley nodded, and continued to the fourth floor to see Potter, disappearing out of sight. As much as he hated to admit it, she was the only Weasley that Severus could actually tolerate, especially in the classroom. She was a little too outspoken for his liking, much like Potter, but smart enough to know when to keep her mouth shut. He did find her amusing at times, however, because some elements of her personality reminded him so vividly of Lily at the same age.

Perhaps it was cruel fate once again.

Severus continued forth down the corridor in time for the other Weasley and Granger to arrive through the front door. He grumbled quietly to himself in frustration, in the hopes to avoid anyone else for the time being.

I can't seem to get away from these bloody students.

"Finally, I'm starving!" Weasley spoke, as he walked through the front door, "Those bloody Aurors took long enough. I should have done it myself."

"You are far too impatient. We honestly didn't wait that long," Hermione brushed a wayward hair from her face, "Your stomach was enough to wake the neighbors."

"Oi, I can't help it," Weasley rolled his eyes, much to Severus' mild amusement as he walked straight past him and made a beeline to the kitchen. Not only was he using Grimmauld Place as a safe house, but he now seemed to be stuck under the same roof with a bunch of teenage Gryffindors – Those which consisted of two couples. Witnessing the bickering among them was the last thing Severus needed to tolerate.

Sickening. Could things get any worse?

Severus – finally reaching the front door himself – swayed slightly and extended his hand to the wall to steady himself. Another wave of dizziness hit, sending his head spinning and his stomach lurching. Pausing for a moment, he closed his eyes, trying to regain composure once again. Eventually sensing careful footsteps behind him – thanks to the horribly creaky floorboards - he warily tilted his head in that direction as he opened his eyes.

Granger had turned around, upon hearing him, and watched the man with concern on her face, "Sir? …Are - are you alright?"

Severus bitterly swallowed the burning acid reflux building up within his throat, "Fine, Miss Granger."

"Shall I summon Madam Pomfrey? I really think we should find someone -"

He drew in a deep breath, and turned his weakened form around to face Granger, clearly not in the mood to argue with another Gryffindor, "- No. "

Severus watched as Granger looked defeated, but instead pulled up the beaded handbag she carried earlier and reached down – to what he noticed as using an Undetectable Extension Charm – and pulled out two identically small potion vials filled with amber-yellow liquid.

She extended them towards the professor, "I'm no healer, but I figured you need this more than we do."

Severus gently retrieved the vials, and twirled one in his hand, observing the liquid contained within. He removed the cork, and lightly inhaled its scent, "Anti-Nausea elixir." He raised his eyebrow at his ex-student.

"I had them brewed before we went on the run…Just to counter the effects of the constant Apparition," Hermione explained, "We didn't need to use them, luckily."

Grateful, Severus gave the young woman a curt nod while still keeping his facade as neutral as possible, "Thank you, Miss Granger."

Granger tilted her head to the side, "Perhaps I can brew some extra potions for you? Just, to…Help in some way. If that's alright, Professor? It's the least I could do. I think better when I'm kept busy. "

"I respect that," Severus nodded, "I must leave the premises for a short while, Miss Granger. Hold the fort. You seem the only one with any measure of common sense in this household. And try to keep Potter from doing anything irrational."

Granger grinned, "If I must say, sir – I've been trying to do that for the past seven years."

Severus snorted lightly in response, "A nearly impossible task."

He turned to leave through the front doors and Disapparated away once it was safe enough to do so. In a desperate bid to clear his mind, he reappeared in the familiar clearing in the Forbidden Forest, close to where the Thestrals resided. This was not the dense part of the forest thus the trees here were more scattered, and less ancient. Within this clearing, he was able to peer through the darkness and see the silhouette of the great Hogwarts castle high atop the hill on the horizon of the night sky. He enjoyed being here, in this particular spot. He was enough of a distance away from the castle to admire its magnificence, but it was perfect as students rarely visited there. Except for Luna Lovegood, of course.

Severus found a perch among the rocks at the base of an old oak tree, and sat down, allowing his billowing cloak to cascade around him. His gaze transfixed on Hogwarts, wondering if he was ever returning in some capacity. However, he already knew deep down that he'd likely never teach again – He was both saddened and relieved by that. But given his deteriorating condition, he knew that Hogwarts would no longer be his home, as his life was ticking closer to the end.

He already lost a home today. His childhood home, which in all honesty, never felt much like home to begin with. In actual fact, he was glad to have seen it up in flames. Too many bad memories were held there, and it was a chapter in his life he wanted to keep closed forever. Both he and his mother suffered physical and verbal abuse throughout his adolescence, and too many school days were spent trying to mask his bruising from Lily, in an attempt to hide from her curious questioning. During Severus' sixth year, his mother eventually took her own life, and his swine of a Muggle father left, leaving Severus to stay at his deranged grandmother's house until he was finally of age. His mother, despite being a saddened and bitter woman, tried her best to keep Severus safe. But it was never enough. His entire family was fractured severely. The thought of his filthy Muggle father convening and possibly sleeping around with other females out there, made him feel utterly repulsed and nauseated. A part of him felt disgusted to take the surname of Snape.

Severus leaned back to rest his head against the tree, basking in the silence of the night he had to himself. He closed his tired eyes, hearing only the faint whistling of the wind against the trees, and light-hoofed steps from the Thestrals behind him. One of the adult Thestrals slowly made his way to Severus, and nudged the side of his head gently, causing the professor to open his eyes once again. Smiling faintly, he reached a mildly trembling hand to pet the creature's head.

"I've been neglecting my visits, lately, haven't I?" Severus continued to scratch the creature's head, as the Thestral whinnied in delight from the attention. He absolutely loved being in their company. And there wasn't much that Severus reveled in, that was not including Potions or the Dark Arts. Despite the dungeons being his usual lair, it was still bustling with students, if not during his classes, but his visiting Slytherins usually complained about something. But here, at least, Severus can escape all of that chaos. He always found he could connect well with a Thestral and their nature. Heavily misunderstood creatures. Though he wished he could remain invisible, and not be seen. He just wanted to remain within the shadows, as he has always done.

Being here gave him a glorious sense of peace. This night was uniquely different. No assignments to mark. No detentions to suffer through.

And no Dark Lord to answer to. At least, his weary mind can now rest. He no longer had to endure the Cruciatus Curse because of a simple misunderstanding or an incompetent colleague under his delegation.

It would have been a glorious thing to ambitiously ponder on if it were not for his impending death.

Severus sighed heavily, allowing his exhale to linger, as he continued to look upon the beauty of Hogwarts on the horizon. The more he gazed upon the castle, the more he missed it. Maybe he should just remain here, and not return to Grimmauld Place. Perhaps he could just succumb to his condition, and let nature take the rest of its course in silence. With no one around, but the Thestrals. This location would serve as the perfect resting place for him, and it would have been better for everyone else that way. No one needed to see him like this, least of all Minerva and her insufferably reckless pride of lions.

When Severus' eyes suddenly burned with a tear threatening to fall, he allowed himself to choke back a single sob, as his chest ached with incredible sorrow. Those tears eventually fell, and he could not hold them back this time. No one was around to see – he could allow his dark armor to crumble just this once. He watched through cloudy eyes, as the Thestral sat down beside him, resting its bony head over Severus' lap. He reached out to rest his hand on its beaked snout.

"What do I do? I don't know what to do. Lily, I'm so sorry. I've made a mess of things again," Severus' voice had dropped to a whisper, quivering at the mention of her name.

He was a failure. He knew it. What he'd give for somebody else to take up the mantle, so his soul could rest. Why must everything be so complicated? Why must emotions be so painfully complicated? Potter had tried to reach out to him, and he shot him down like the arsehole he knew he was. He shot him down because he knew he could not stand to get any closer to him. He hurt the boy with his forked tongue because he knew he was better off without him. It was his way of driving a wedge in order to protect the boy from further pain of loss.

Tough love, so it seems.

Love? Don't be daft, Severus.

Care, yes. Love…impossible. Severus wasn't capable of love. Such acts of vulnerability were beyond him. Lily rejected him because of his forked tongue speaking such filth and hurtful things, and yet he could not repel the boy. Potter was trying to reach out, and he did not let him. He hesitated at the act of kindness towards him, and he threw it into the boy's face. The silly Gryffindor even threw himself in front of the snake, because he knew…He witnessed the Professor tense up at the appearance of the serpent. Severus had frozen up in absolute fear. Wretched fear. Of all creatures for Severus to suddenly develop a fear of, was a snake. How ironic for the Head of Slytherin. Nagini had instilled a new fear within him, and he hated himself even more for it.

And yet Severus was more afraid about the boy risking his safety. Angry at him, yes, but afraid.

"The boy isn't even mine," Severus spoke between heaving breaths in his upset state. Saying those words out loud cut through Severus' heart like a searing hot knife. Speaking those words made it all the more real. He could not help but think of what could have been.

Seven long years, and he finally grew to care for the boy after all.

"Lily must know I'm a complete fool. I spent years tormenting the boy and undermining his ability, and now… " Severus winced, but as he glanced at the creature beside him, he rolled his eyes, "Here I am talking to a bloody horse. I must truly be going mad."

Feeling a shiver from the crisp cold air, Severus shifted to stand up and made the decision to finally depart from his little slice of sanctuary. Disapparating away in a flume of black smoke, he reappeared just before the familiar wards of Malfoy Manor and began to make his way to the front door. Once he activated the serpentine barrier on the door, he entered the house, to find Draco sitting alone in the sitting room by the crackling fire in the next room, with a glass of what appeared to be fire whiskey. He was sporting a crinkled, white-colored shirt, void of any tie, and simple black trousers slumped back on the armchair. The boy had been staring into the fireplace, up until Severus walked in.

Draco looked up from his glass and frowned, "Where have you been?"

Making his way to the single armchair opposite the boy, Severus sat down, "Elsewhere." He eyed the boy's alcoholic beverage with slight concern, "That kind of night, I take it?"

He watched as Draco grumbled, with a look of distaste, "Every night is the same, isn't it?"

Severus didn't respond to that question, instead, he sighed, "Any further news?"

"Absolutely nothing. I don't even like venturing out there anymore. I almost got hexed this morning by a bloody older wizard when he recognized me as a Malfoy."

Severus leaned back, steepling his fingers together, "Regrettably, I must insist you stay put for the time being. A bounty is on your head, just as well as mine."

Draco raised his eyebrow, as he withdrew his head back suspiciously, "What did I miss?"

"My home was destroyed earlier today. Death Eaters were awaiting my arrival. But, take no chances, Draco. They are determined to bring us both down with every last dying breath."

Draco took a sip of his fire whisky, "So, what do we do, now?"

"You are to stay here, with your mother. I have been discussing options for advancement with Professor McGonagall. However, I have made no mention of you. For the best, at this present time."

"Where do you keep disappearing to? Who else are you meeting with?"

"Do not question me, Draco. I am devising our next move carefully. If I can get you under good graces, you will - at the very least - have some adequate protection against the Death Eaters."

"I don't want their good graces. They all hate me and my family," Draco recoiled, looking repulsed. He narrowed his eyes at the man, scrutinizing his sullen appearance, "If no one else has told you already, you look bloody horrendous."

Will everyone stop bloody pointing that out? Severus pursed his lips with distaste, "So I've been informed."

Severus watched with calculating eyes as Draco downed the remaining firewhisky and proceeded to give it a refill from the half-empty bottle beside him. Concerned, the man gripped the armrests on the side of his chair, observing him carefully, "…How much have you had to drink?"

Draco shrugged, "No idea."

Clenching his jaw, he retrieved his wand from his sleeve holster, and gave it a twirl in the air, vanishing the glass completely, "That's enough."

Draco was halfway through lifting the glass to his lips as it vanished, "HEY! I wasn't bloody finished!"

"You are now. I cannot have you absolutely intoxicated when you have a bounty on your head!"

The boy reached for the bottle, but Severus was quicker. Giving another small flourish of his wand, he levitated the bottle towards him and placed it beside himself on the table, away from the boy's desperate reach. Draco was livid. Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly not in the mood to deal with another teenage problem.

Draco flushed with anger, "How dare you! You can't do that! You are not my father!"

"Calm yourself, boy – I am your Godfather. I'm the closest you have at the present time. Heed my advice when I tell you, that it is not the way. It will only do more harm than good."

He watched as Draco slammed his armrest with a bawled fist, seething in anger. Severus gave him time to calm himself, and Draco shot Severus the filthiest glare he could muster, running his hand through his unusually unkempt platinum blonde hair, "You don't understand!"

"I assure you - I understand more than you realise, " Severus spoke as calmly as he could, "Make better choices, Draco. That's all I ask of you."

"How can I? Everything has changed now."

"Yes, it has. However, if you cannot do it for yourself, then be strong for your mother. You are all she has left."

"Is that why you took the Unbreakable Vow? You felt sorry for her?"

Severus frowned, "We both had shared concern for you. Your mother approached me in desperation to save your life. Within my limitations and circumstances, I could not refuse."

Draco paused in thought, before he continued, "Would you have still killed Dumbledore if you hadn't taken the Vow?"

Severus hesitated upon mention of Albus – Unsure of how to proceed with such a sensitive topic. His worry caused his forehead to crease, as he gazed lightly upon his Godson, "Yes." Severus glanced over the fireplace and watched as the flames crackled against the burning wood.

He heard Draco sigh, "What really happened?"

The Potions Master glanced back at the boy, with careful consideration, "The Headmaster was dying. He asked me to end his life, which had been predetermined. In doing so, would spare yours. Upon taking the Vow, it essentially…Sealed the deal. Much to my dismay, initially."

"Great, " Draco looked at Severus sourly, "And it's my fault he's dead. It's my fault you had to kill him."

"NO, " Severus spoke firmly, leaning forward in his chair, "It was the Dark Lord's wishes. He is to blame, not you. He only wished to punish you in the name of your father's failure in retrieving the Prophecy. You were a pawn, and the Dark Lord intended for you to fail. There was never any glory to be had under his name."

"I can't believe this, " Draco shook his head, shocked at this new perspective. He spent so long blaming himself, that he didn't consider the true reasoning behind it, "My father…My father deserves to remain in Azkaban. He can rot there for all I care. He got us into this mess. Mother and I are paying for it now."

Severus sighed again lightly, feeling sorrow for the stricken boy before him, "I know. Your father, regrettably, did not have your best interests at heart. If anything, I hope he realises that now." He leaned back into his chair and observed the worry on the boy's face. Draco was suffering in silence - Another boy in deep pain. Severus was afraid for both Draco and Harry at this point, and if he were to admit it, he was worried about the repercussions of that. He does not wish to impose either to travel down the same dark path as he did, just by making all the wrong choices. The least he could do was influence both to make the right ones.

The boy looked up at Severus, almost sadly, "…The Dark Mark is never going to vanish completely, isn't it?"

With tired eyes, Severus looked back at Draco, shaking his head ever so slowly, "Unfortunately not."

Severus watched as Draco instinctively clasp his left forearm where the faded Dark Mark was etched into his skin. He almost had the burning urge to do the same, in habit. Severus felt guilty, even though he knew that it was not his fault.

After a short pause, Draco continued, "Are you staying tonight?"

Severus nodded, "For a short while, yes. I need to complete your Potions stockpile, for emergencies. Excuse me, Draco. " He slowly rose from his chair, "And please. Stay away from the fire whisky." He frowned at Draco before continuing, "Do not let me catch you again."

Making his exit, he began to make his way to the Potions lab and storage room close to the sunroom at the back of the Manor. He hadn't intended to stay at the Manor for the night, but given his little altercation with Potter, he felt it best to stay away for the time being until he deemed it appropriate to return. However, he had to be careful, because Potter was still essentially under his protection as it was his obligation still, and Potter tended to get himself into danger without thinking. Even Miss Granger could not keep the boy from making irrational decisions, so that task seem to fall back on Severus' hands, much to his frustration. He could not be in two places at once.

Feeling his stomach heaving – It was either lack of nutrition, or the curse slowly running rampant within his body – he leaned on the counter within the small makeshift Potions lab and steadied himself enough to breathe through the discomfort. Reaching slowly into the pocket of his robes, he pulled out one of Grangers' Anti-Nausea elixirs, and downed the amber liquid, grimacing with the bitter licorice aftertaste. After a few passing minutes, he felt the solution warming within his abdomen, giving him temporary relief enough to stop the urge from dry retching.

Severus had enough problems to deal with at this current moment. He couldn't even muster up the courage to tell Draco or his mother of his fatal condition.

He was not emotionally equipped to deal with teenagers – That much was certain. Perhaps he really didn't have the patience. But it seemed that someone had to keep a close on them – Potter and Draco – because if he didn't, then who else would? And now his Godson feels that turning towards an alcoholic beverage to de-stress, was a wise enough decision. Now Severus could barely trust them to keep him out of sight for too long. Potter was already struggling with post-traumatic stress, and now Draco is walking a very fine line to becoming alcohol-dependent to ease his nerves.

What was Severus supposed to do? He was dealing with his own problems. And now he was entrusted to watch over two teenage boys who are both suffering with pain, grief, and guilt so immensely. It hurt Severus to see them both like this. Both were dealing with loss, past mistakes, and uncertainty for the future. This was not the path he hoped they'd take. He wanted better for them. He wished for them both to lead better lives.

Both Draco and Harry deserved that much.

Helping them – truly helping them - involved sacrificing a part of Severus that he wanted to keep hidden away. In wanting the best for them, he would need to remove a layer of his already-fractured armor once again. And Severus wasn't sure if he was ready for that step. Perhaps he really was a coward. A selfish, bitter, miserable coward who had destroyed more lives than he could count.

Albus put far too much faith in him. Albus, Remus, and bloody Sirius should be here instead, not him.

Severus clenched his fists.

"Very well. Very well. But never- never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it! I cannot bear...especially Potter's son...I want your word!"

"My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you?" Dumbledore sighed, looking down into Snape's ferocious, anguished face. "If you insist..."

Severus closed his eyes, doing his best to keep himself as composed as he could.

Did he really want to die alone?

The past few days were measurably slower than it has been during the previous couple of weeks. It was drawing close to three weeks since the Battle of Hogwarts ended, and yet Harry Potter still felt highly on edge, not knowing when the next attack would take place. There had been several more victims who were kidnapped in their homes within the last few days – One of which turned up dead and placed in Hogsmeade intended as a threat, according to Arthur Weasley.

Minister Shacklebolt had sent Aurors to investigate and scout the village, but no new information had come to light. They were still nowhere near discovering when this next attack would take place, or even any further evidence of the new poison they were aiming to set on releasing to unsuspecting innocent people. Hogsmeade was still rather derelict, and many of the shopfronts refused to re-open for fear of being targeted. The village has never been more painstakingly quiet before. The locals remain in their homes, magically fortifying as best they could until the Ministry could deem them safe.

It was getting increasingly difficult to follow their trail, as they did their best to cover their tracks. Even despite their numbers, they could not find them quickly enough. Harry and the DA did their best to seek out further information, but with not much luck. Since the Order meeting, Dean had returned with the Patil twins seeking to assist, much to Harry's appreciation and surprise. According to Dean, Seamus, and Katie were still furious about Snape being a part of the Order, and once again, with them. Katie was still frightened to see him, even though she was well aware that he had saved her life from the cursed necklace the year prior. Despite that, she could not fully get over the death of Dumbledore by his hand, and that alone, was enough to turn her away. Seamus did want to help Harry, but not at the expense of the ex-Death Eater in their midst. Lee, on the other hand, did join Dean in scouting magical residences, but neither of the trio refused to step back into Grimmauld Place.

Harry wondered if the Death Eaters continued that concerning project elsewhere. However, it was the elsewhere that made Harry nervous. Now with the possibility of them utilizing Polyjuice Potion, they could be anyone, anywhere.

Severus Snape had not returned since leaving a few days ago. Harry was still mildly bitter about their last conversation and was glad that he didn't have to deal with him for a while. However, the Professor was not meant to leave Grimmauld Place, and there was no word of where he had disappeared to. Harry knew he shouldn't worry – He was an adult and he does whatever Snape usually does in his own time. But Harry still felt slightly worried when he didn't show up. Hermione had mentioned he would return shortly, but he never did. Snape seemed to prefer being alone, so Harry wasn't going to press that issue longer than necessary.

He'll show up eventually, Harry mused to himself.

It was just after lunchtime, when Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville, and Luna decided to spend the afternoon in the sitting room on the first floor. Hermione and Luna spent some extra time cleaning up the room, removing dust, and making the room feel more open and livelier, less cluttered, and homely. It was a nice change from the old dreary mess it was previously. Sirius would have loved to see it like this – This was what Harry had always imagined the house would have looked like if Sirius were alive and finally living with him.

Once the crackling fire had started, Kreacher had treated them all to hot chocolate with cinnamon, freshly baked fudge cookies, and savory pasties. Hermione had offered to help Kreacher, but the house elf was insistent she'd stay put. Ron couldn't help but laugh.

"Ron, that's not funny. You know how I feel about it, " Hermione nursed her mug of hot chocolate begrudgingly, as she sat on the couch next to Ron.

"Alright, relax. Kreacher didn't want to be set free. That's his choice, isn't it?" Ron responded.

Hermione sighed a little too angrily, "Yes, I know, but…You know what, never mind."

Attempting to change the subject, Neville cleared his throat, "So Hermione, how are the potions coming along?"

"Slow and steady, " Hermione took a sip of her hot drink, "Ginny and I have a pot of Blood-Replenishing potions cooling downstairs. We figured we'd stock up on that - just in case - given our current situation. I have a few vials of a mild analgesic serum ready, but I haven't quite got enough ingredients for the stronger alternative yet. Also, I have started brewing more Anti-Nausea elixirs for Professor Snape…He looked awful when I saw him last."

"If you give me a list of things you need, maybe I can try and find the remaining stuff?" Neville offered, "Basic ingredients have been hard to come by recently…Madam Pomfrey told me and Hannah last week about the dwindling supplies. Even St. Mungo's are struggling with their patients at the moment. Without the correct Potions to cure them, we haven't been able to get them well enough to be discharged home."

Ginny intercepted, "I suppose people are freaking out now, and stockpiling what they can. With people disappearing, I don't blame them."

"I'm going back to St. Mungos later on. Madam Pomfrey wants to teach Hannah and I a new healing spell."

"That's wonderful, Neville, " Luna mused, glancing over at Neville as she sat cross-legged on the floor. A line of chocolate was evident on her upper lip, as she happily sipped from her mug, "You'd make an exceptional healer."

Neville let out a small nervous laugh, "I'm no healer. Just lending my assistance. It's completely mad over there." He glanced over at Harry, who sat beside Ginny, staring off into space. Neville tilted his head, "You alright, Harry?"

Blinking back into the present moment, Harry's eyes darted around the room, and finally found Neville peering right at him, despite becoming distant within the conversation, "Yeah, I'm fine. I suppose. Just…Nothing." There was an awkward silence that shifted among the occupants, and Harry felt uncomfortable with the sudden spotlight of attention.

Ron cleared his throat, "I was thinking. Do you think there is a way we can put a, well – tracker – on the Death Eaters? Kind of like the hex Voldemort put on his name."

Hermione let out a sudden gasp, causing Ron to jump slightly, "That's dark magic, Ron! We will do no such thing!" She shot him an aghast look.

"Hey, it was just a suggestion. Blimey, Hermione. I figured maybe we could ask Snape if he knew how to do it?"

Harry shook his head, "NO, we are not asking him to do that."

"Surely, there is another way we can do it. I mean, it's not a completely terrible idea, " Ginny suggested.

"Gee, thanks Ginny, " Ron huffed, as he leaned back in his chair, looking defeated.

Ginny rolled her eyes at her brother, "No, what I meant is that maybe we can think up other solutions. Like, oh I don't know…Some sort of magical trace on the Mark itself?"

Hermione was deep in thought, "Hmmm. Perhaps? The only problem is that Snape's Mark might interfere with us tracking the rest of them. Again, we'd have to consult him about that. If anyone knows the most about the Dark Arts, it's him. He can give us an answer."

"I honestly don't think Snape will ever allow us to tamper with the Dark Mark. That's a disaster waiting to happen, " Harry explained, "Besides, we don't want to make his condition worse."

"Well, we can pose the idea, and see what he says. He is a teacher, after all. We could really do with his expert opinion right now, " Hermione wondered, "Besides, we won't be tampering with anything. There are far too many consequences with that."

Ron snorted, "Yeah, and he'd probably tell us to shove it. Bad enough he hangs around here -"

Ron was cut off in conversation, as they suddenly heard Luna happily humming to herself, seemingly unaware of anyone else in the room. The Gryffindors exchanged awkward glances, and it wasn't until there was complete silence, did Luna look back to the others. "Oh. You know that is an exceptionally good idea. It's obvious, isn't it?"

Harry shook his head in confusion, "What is?"

Luna wiped the chocolate from her face, using the back of her sleeve, as she tilted her head, "What about another DA lesson?"

Hermione furrowed her brow, until her eyes widened in realisation, "Oh!"

"Oh?" Neville looked confused.

Hermione grinned, "That's a wonderful idea, Luna! Perhaps we can convince him to, well…instruct one?"

Ron gasped, "Are you barking mad? A bit late for one, don't you think?"

"Wait, what?" Harry exclaimed, "No - He is not going to like the idea of that."

"Well, he is a teacher, " Hermione responded as matter-of-factly, "He allowed us to brew those Potions downstairs – and with him without a fuss, I might add - and he taught Harry how to send a message by Patronus. We can learn so much more from him."

"The man's dying, Hermione. Teaching us anything else will be the last thing on his list, " Harry was a little irritated at the idea. As much as he understood their reasoning for it, he couldn't help but feel bad for using the man in this way. Snape was already doing more than enough for them and asking another favor of him may not bode well for either of them.

Ginny asked, "Well, we can only ask. Besides, I'd like to have a proper defense against the dark arts lesson this time, as opposed to the monstrosity we learned this year with the Carrows."

"You know my feelings on being stuck in another class with Snape, but he may very well be, well…different?" Neville spoke a little nervously at the idea, "…Hopefully? He may actually give us a chance this time."

"You never know…Perhaps he would be happy to share his knowledge before his death, " Luna shrugged and continued with her timid, soft tone almost trailing off. "If I knew I was going to die soon, I would want to share what I could with someone else. " Luna gave Harry a small smile and turned her head back towards the fireplace, lost in her own little world once again.

He honestly doesn't know how she does it.

Feeling uncomfortable with the morbid turn in conversation – thanks to Luna – he couldn't help but agree with her statement. Because to be fair, Snape had already done that when he was expecting to die with Harry present. He passed on his memories, including many personal ones that only he knew of, in the hopes to share his knowledge one last time. Perhaps Snape may be willing to share his knowledge again. It could possibly be too much to ask of him now, but Snape could very well be attuned to the idea. Deep down, Harry really hoped to learn more from him. Willingly, this time. Now he was more than ready to pay attention, and perhaps this time, he won't disappoint the man in his so-called mediocre learning ability.

Who knows? Snape may even be surprised at their skill level now, given the turn of events of the year. They learned so much actively fighting for their lives, more than they ever could sitting in a classroom. In fact, besides a few moral hiccups, Snape seemed satisfied enough with their fighting efforts and dueling style in the recent incidences they've fought side by side. From the Forest fight to taking back Grimmauld Place, and fending off Death Eaters at Snape's residence; it could very well be possible that Snape could be willing to teach them further.

After all, Snape was no longer a spy for Voldemort, thus he had no reason to withhold anything. Technically speaking.

But given their last conversation, Harry was hesitant. Snape did make it blatantly obvious that he wanted to keep it professional. As a student, it couldn't hurt to ask, right? But he was worried about how receptive he may be to the new request. But they really could use his additional help.

There was another awkward silence on the mention of Snape's impending fate, and it hurt Harry a little too much to think about. The man was already willing to risk his life to keep Harry safe. Only those sitting in that room knew that he was slowly dying. No one else knew the ramifications of his close call from death at Hogwarts by Voldemort's hand. No one else knew not even McGonagall, Molly, or Arthur Weasley. Not even Minister Shacklebolt. It was easy for them to request help from Snape because they didn't know. To them, he was perceived as alive and well. They were oblivious to it.

Harry and his friends knew the truth, therefore he felt he had an obligation to abide by the man's last wishes. Whatever they may be.

After a few moments, Harry sighed, "Fine. I'll ask him. We'll get his opinion on tracking the Death Eaters, and maybe we'll see if he was willing to teach us more about the wards. Properly this time, and not in a mad scramble while we were fugitives. We've had way too many close calls with warding. If ever our shields collapse, I want to be sure we can replace them properly again."

Ron shrugged, "Sounds fair."

Hermione downed the rest of her hot chocolate and rose from her seat, "Let me know when Professor Snape shows up. I need to fill up those vials downstairs. Ginny, are you coming?"

"On it, " Ginny reached out for Harry's hand, and gave it a light squeeze, before accompanying Hermione to the basement.

"Wait for me – I need that list, then I best be off. I want to go visit my parents before seeing Madam Pomfrey, " Neville waved, "See you later!"

Hermione left with Ginny and Neville, leaving Harry, Ron, and Luna alone in the sitting room. Ron reached over to grab another savory pasty, and took a large bite, leaving flakes all over the front of his shirt. He gave a quick guilty glance to Harry, hastily brushing off the remnants, "Don't tell Hermione…She's been super mad at me for eating so much lately, but I can't help it. She's been on edge lately."

"Can't blame her. We're all a little on edge. Besides, she likes to keep herself busy at a time like this, " Harry looked down at his hands as he spoke, noticing the slightly frayed edge of the bandage underneath his right sleeve. Harry pulled his sleeve back over the dressing and glanced back at Ron, "She's worried about being unprepared this time. Besides, are you both, you know…okay?"

"Oh yeah, we're okay. It's just been stressful with everything else going on now. Just doesn't seem to end. It's hard to, well…move on. With Fred gone…" Ron bowed his head, as he whispered the last few words.

Harry respectively, bowed his head as well, feeling guilty yet again, "Yeah. I know." He glanced over at Luna, who now at this point, had taken her shoes off and twinkled her pale toes at the campfire, keeping within her own Luna-centric headspace. She made it look easy – Like she had no care whatsoever.

Ron gave Harry a thinned smile, trying to shrug off the sense of sadness rising up, "Hey, what did Snape say to you the other day? You know, after we left his place. I forgot to ask. He didn't harass you again, I hope?"

Harry frowned, and shook his head, "Oh, no no. Well, he got mad at me for moving in front of the snake."

"That's it? Well… " Ron shrugged, "…It was kind of stupid of you."

"Did you see his face? I've never seen him…look like that before. Besides, I forgot about the whole Parseltongue thing."

Ron paused in thought, "Wonderful. Now he's afraid of snakes. Poor sod."

Harry sighed, "Can you blame him? If I got mauled to death by a giant vicious snake, I would be too."

"Sure, let's forget about the Basilisk then, " Ron sighed, "Do you think we should tell McGonagall about him?"

Harry bit his lip, "I've been thinking about that, but…I'm not sure. I want to, but Snape was insistent on no one else knowing. Hermione even offered to contact Madam Pomfrey for him, but he didn't like the idea."

"Well, he needs to decide soon, because honestly, it's not our place to take care of a dying man. Even more so our ex-Professor, a Death Eater, and problematic git."

"EX-Death Eater, Ron, " Feeling slightly offended, Harry drew back, "I thought you were alright with him now?"

"Depends. As long as he's alright with you, then I have no problem. Once he starts kicking up a fuss, it makes me hate him all over again. I'm glad he's on our side but that doesn't mean I have to like him. Besides, you seem to be worried about him all of the time now. What's up with that?"

"It's…complicated, Ron, " Harry clenched his jaw, "He gave up everything to see to it that I make it this far. That I survive. He didn't have to, but he did. That night when he gave me his memories…" He paused slightly feeling overwhelmed with his attempts to remember that night, "…He showed me many personal memories. Parts of his life…I saw things that no one else did. They weren't necessary, but he showed me anyway. Dumbledore asked too much of him...I saw Snape differently."

"Don't forget how badly he treated you in class, though. He was always foul, especially to you."

"He had to be, or else his cover would have been blown. I was young and stupid, and I made it easy for him to hate me. We all were Ron. I know I'm not my father, but I often reminded him of James. It wasn't my fault. It took him seven years to realize that I wasn't him."

"Took him bloody long enough. I'd be mad at him…I wouldn't want anything else to do with him."

"I did, and I was mad at him. Furious! The night Dumbledore died…I wanted to kill him. When I found out he was the one who overheard the Prophecy, I wanted him dead."

"Then what changed?"

"The memories, Ron. It was always the memories. Once I realized the truth that he had been helping me – Us – the whole time…It changed everything. He sent the Doe. He led us to the Sword of Gryffindor. He lied to Voldemort's face for years. Every year he protected me, and I never knew it back then. You may think he's still the same git we knew in first year, but people change, Ron. Sure, he's not pleasant to deal with, but he eventually came to do good, didn't he? You can't deny that. None of us is the same person we were back then, and neither should he be, either. He knows he messed up, Ron. Every year since the death of my mother, he's been trying to make things right. To me, he has more than earned his second chance…Even if his time now is limited."

"I'm not calling you a liar, Harry. I believe you. I just want you to be careful, that is all. If he's ever an arsehole to you again, I'm going to give him a piece of my mind."

"We've come to a truce, now. A mutual understanding. It's a start."

"Give him time, Harry, " Luna made her way to the couch, still barefoot, and picked up a chocolate fudge cookie. "He is still concerned for you, so that alone speaks volumes. He wouldn't still be trying to protect you, otherwise."

"Helping him is the least I could do, even if he says he doesn't want my help, " Harry ran his hand through his messy hair, "He has no one. You saw what happened during the Order meeting…Snape was condemned. I can't let that happen again. No one understands. No one saw what I saw."

"You're doing the right thing, " Luna smiled, "He is dealing with a lot, I'm sure. He just needs to find a sense of purpose again."

Harry sighed, "Yeah, I suppose we all are."

Before they could continue, they began to hear additional voices downstairs, along with shuffling down the length of the hallway below. Harry and Ron looked at each other and then began to make their way down to see what was going on, with Luna trailing shortly behind and still barefoot. Once Harry reached the ground floor, they were greeted by the warmth of Molly Weasley.

"Oh! There you are!" Molly beamed at Harry with open arms, enveloping him in a tight hug. He was now taller than Molly, and yet he still felt like the little boy she helped at Kings Cross Station.

Gradually, Harry pulled away from the hug before it became too suffocating, "Hi Mrs. Weasley."

"Nice to see you too, mum, " Ron spoke with sarcasm, "I may as well be invisible."

Molly rolled her eyes, "Don't be so dramatic, Ronald. I barely see you anymore. I hope you are both keeping out of trouble. I don't want to see you both plastered on the front of The Daily Prophet for doing something reckless. "

"We're fine, " Harry tried to reassure the woman, but he could see Molly slowly fuming, "It's alright."

Molly looked stricken, "Alright?! Arthur told me you found another Death Eater! You can't go taking matters into your own hands. The Ministry can handle this – "

"I'm sure even Arthur is aware that the Ministry is lacking in Aurors these days. We're just lending our assistance. We're being careful."

Ron shoved his hands in his pockets, "Mum, it's fine. We've fought Death Eaters before, stop stressing – "

"Stop stressing? STOP STRESSING?! RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY!" Molly's booming voice echoed through the halls, as she planted both hands on her hips, face livid as her cheeks puffed with anger, "You've barely escaped with your lives! It was barely three weeks ago since the battle at Hogwarts, and I am NOT going to lose any more of you!"

Ron argued back, "It's not like we haven't handled them before! Besides, we want to help Kingsley capture the rest of them. We lost a lot of Aurors - Many were Confounded. It's a no-brainer that we do what we can. Blimey, mum."

"Mrs. Weasley…Molly, " Harry intercepted gently, "Please. We're being cautious. Besides, we are not blindly running out there, wands blazing. "

"Harry, dear, " Molly drew in a deep breath, trying to calm herself, "It's not that I don't trust you lot – Ron, don't interrupt! – It's just…Aren't you tired of all this? Let someone else take over it for you. Just because you defeated Voldemort, doesn't mean you are obliged to clean up."

"But that's exactly why we need to do this. If we don't, who else will? Most of the magical population are running scared and barricading themselves in their homes. The Ministry is still broken from Voldemort's hold. Rogue Death Eaters are still out there attacking and kidnapping innocent people. And you want us to stay here, sit around and play Wizarding Chess, and pretend everything is fine? Well, because it's not. It's not fine, Molly. You know it's not."

Molly looked exhausted. And if Harry had any inkling, she looked like she was going to burst into tears. Molly's lower lip quivered slightly, as she looked at each boy before her. Luna was still on the staircase watching on, keeping her distance, as her mind seemed to trail elsewhere. Harry can understand Molly's frustration. In fact, Harry felt the same way before his friends convinced him to keep going. He was sure as hell tired of it all too. But frankly, he didn't want to resume his life on the grounds that he could be attacked again at any moment again. He wanted very much to take Ginny away on a real date this time – Just the both of them. In no way was he willing to do that still looking over his shoulder in constant danger. That was no way to live.

Harry wasn't ready to give up the fight just yet.

After silence befell them, Molly finally spoke again, "I know. Harry, I know. I just can't imagine losing another one of you. I wouldn't be able to bear it. Losing Fred…" Her voice broke at the mention of her son's name, as she looked away.

Feeling a pang of guilt rising within his stomach, Harry reached out to place a hand reassuringly on Molly's shoulder, "What we are doing, we are doing for him. And everyone else we lost. The war isn't over until it's safe again."

"That's like saying we'll have Hogwarts up and running again for another school year. Do you see that happening with this current mess? Unlikely. No parent is going to risk sending their kids to school right now, " Ron explained, "Besides, McGonagall doesn't even think it's safe for a memorial yet."

After clasping Harry's hand gently from her shoulder for a few moments, she let go to brush away a tear, "You've both grown up quicker than you're supposed to…I suppose I can't stop you from trying to do the right thing. You are young adults now, and your decisions are your own…That doesn't mean I still can't worry about you."

"We'll be fine, really, " Harry smiled reassuringly at the Weasley matriarch, doing his best to prevent himself from further upsetting her.

Molly glanced from Harry to Ron, then up at Luna on the stairwell, before turning back to Harry, "Alright then. " She clasped her hands eagerly in front of her floral printed casual dress, "I thought I might fix you lot some dinner. Arthur won't be home until much later, and George is off with Angelina – It took much convincing to get him out of the house, mind you. And Percy has been busy helping Kingsley in reforming the Ministry. I didn't fancy sitting around alone in an empty Burrow."

Luna smiled, "Would you like some assistance?"

Molly beamed, "That'll be lovely, sweetheart. Come now – " She beckoned for the Ravenclaw to follow, and both disappeared into the kitchen, as Molly led her in with an arm around the girl's shoulders.

Exchanging wary glances, Harry and Ron made their way into the basement to convene with Hermione and Ginny, as the four of them tinkered away at the remaining potion stores. Much to Harry's concern, Hermione had explained to them how dwindled their supplies were, and barely scraped enough for basic potions. Neville had volunteered to seek out herbs from Hogwarts, but considering the danger now lurking in the shadows, it was a risk they weren't willing to take just yet. Harry already knew that Hogwarts had a limited supply since its destruction and ransacking during the battle. The supplies were either destroyed or stolen, as Harry had already seen while he and Snape were down there several weeks ago. With no one to restock them, they were running out of places to obtain even the basic ingredients.

Neville was already concerned with the lack of supplies at St. Mungos, and Harry did not want to deprive the hospital with potion remedies that could save a life. So, it left the group in a predicament, that they may not have enough to deal with Snape's condition. They could barely scrape by enough to aid them in case one of them became injured.

Whilst mulling over their options at dinner, Harry began to stress more as the evening progressed. He hated feeling like a sitting duck with his hands metaphorically tied. There were no new sightings of the rogue Death Eaters, and he heard no word from the DA members who left behind their charmed coins. That alone was instilling a new fear within him. Without the coins, he could not immediately contact them in secret if the need arose. He could only hope that they were still alive and well, and at least manage to take safety measures.

Once dinner was over, the group assisted in cleaning up the kitchen and dining room and bid farewell to Molly and Luna who departed soon after. With a rising headache in his temples, Harry retreated early back to Regulus' old bedroom; of which Harry still couldn't muster up the courage to take Sirius' room yet. In fact, he hadn't even entered that room for a long while, feeling as if he was intruding on his Godfather's sacred space.

Harry slipped into bed, staring at the ceiling for several hours trying to manage his rising headache before he finally drifted off to sleep. But yet again, he was hit with the same nightmares he has had since the battle of Hogwarts. But given the stress upon the teenager in the last few days, this time felt worse.

The nightmare began to sear into his mind like the force from his scar.

It didn't take long for Harry to feel a rising panic. His head started to pound with the force of a drum, causing Harry to thrash within his bed, and tangle himself within his sheets, as the nightmare became too great to bear. Each familiar face vivid of those that were lost, flashed into his mind, further sending him downwards in terror and being forced to relive those memories once again.

"Kill the spare!" "AVADA KEDAVRA!" A flash of green light blinded his subconscious. "Cedric, no!" Harry yelled out Cedric's name, in unison with the memory flashing before him.

"Nice one, James!" A memory at the Ministry shrouded the previous one in a haze, and with the feeling of adrenaline, fighting side by side with his Godfather Sirius. "AVADA KEDAVRA!" But another flash of green light burned in his mind, as he watched helplessness as Sirius fell through the veil once again. Bellatrix laughed manically as she bounded away in all her sadistic, twisted glory. Harry twisted in pain and fear, as tears streamed down his face. "Sirius! Sirius, please!" Harry wept, still bound by the nightmare taking hold of him, refusing to let him go.

That memory dissipated and took the form of another as quickly as it played, sending Harry's chest burning within his subconscious.

A green light flashed again, this time resulting in overseeing Albus Dumbledore being blasted off the edge of the Astronomy Tower…Beads of sweat poured down Harry's head, and onto his chest, soaking through his grey shirt, "NO!"

Another flash of green exploded within his vision, as he saw the crumpled form of Hedwig spiral downwards from the sky, as some of her feathers were taken away by a gust of wind in the night air. "NO!" Harry's breathing was rapid, struggling against the onslaught of his mind. Another dissipation of his memory, re-materialized as another. This time he was holding onto Dobby's injured form, feeling the gut-wrenching blow of yet another loss. The sounds of Harry's cries within the memory were drowned out by the sound of the crashing waves on the beach where they sat.

Harry wept silently; overcome by the nightmare he was trapped inside of.

The memory changed again, as he was forced to watch students crumbling to the floor around him, injured and helpless, as he ran through a destroyed Hogwarts. Explosions sounded around him, as more bodies fell. Screams of terror echoed within his mind, which was not just his own. The memory swirled into another, this time looking upon the faces of the dead before him. Fred…Tonks…Remus…Colin…Lavender…Snape…

Harry's sob escalated to what sounded like a miserable wailing. He was in pain. His chest…So much pain…His heart ached. He could hear voices in his head, but he could not make them out. Some were frantic, and he felt his body being shaken. But no matter how hard he tried; he could not pull himself out of the death-like chokehold the nightmares were giving him. Like the Devil's Snare wrapping around his body…his neck…Inhibiting his ability to breathe.

Finally, the last ounce of agony within his nightmare. Staring at his own bruised and battered form once again, he walked into the Forest to his death. The ethereal forms of his parents, Sirius and Remus walking beside him...Another green flash of light snapped him out of terror and back into reality.

Several different voices were crying out in unison, but his head hurt too much for him to even attempt to open his eyes. He felt cold hands grasp his shoulder, shaking him back to reality with a firm grip.

"HARRY! Harry, please!"

"Wake up, Harry!"

"Oh, what's happening to him?!"

"POTTER!"

Finally, and with great effort, Harry opened his eyes.

Harry struggled to breathe.

Every inhale was a burning effort to draw in a breath, as Harry clasped his chest in desperation. His vision was blurred due to the lack of oxygen in his system, and he felt a cold hand grab hold of his forearm and pull him upright on the edge of his bed. Harry threw his hands on his knees trying to steady himself, leaning forward in order to maximize each breath, despite the room spinning nauseatingly around him. His mind was a blur, and he wasn't entirely sure if he escaped the intense nightmare he had just experienced. It felt like a vision all over again with the same intensity, but minus the burning scar and the prophetic snapshots, those dreams usually gave him.

"Potter, breathe! Focus!"

Harry's green eyes darted upward, feeling slight dizziness, as he noticed the black-clad form of Snape kneeling on the floor in front of him. Harry's breath was rapid, and he could not regain control. His chest felt like it was on fire; heavy as if it were filled with something other than air. He could feel his heart beating fast within his chest and the throb of the pulse in his neck. His body did not feel like his own.

"Clear your mind!"

Harry shook his head, feeling faint as he did so. The gradual pain in his head inhibited any rational train of thought at this present moment. At this point, he couldn't distinguish if his face were wet with tears or sweat, but he knew he looked like an awful mess. Finally glancing beyond the mass, he could see Hermione, Ginny, and Ron looking back at him beside Snape, with worry etched on their faces within the room.

Great, an audience. Harry shut his eyes and struggled to swallow back the rising bile in his throat.

"Potter, pay attention," Snape's voice became a soft drawl, but Harry had difficulty distinguishing his voice against the echo of the nightmare still carved within his mind, "Nod, if you can hear my voice."

His mind was clouded, and it felt like dozens of voices collectively yelling at him, and even the sound of his carotid pulse in his neck felt like drums pounding beside his ear. As opposed to the ringing that would not stop. Every sound felt amplified, and he struggled to distinguish the voice of Snape piercing through that.

Between a struggling breath, Harry finally nodded, clenching his fists so tightly that his knuckles were white.

"Good. Now, keep your eyes closed. Focus only on my voice," There was a slight pause as if Snape were waiting for a sign to continue or watching him with bated breath. Harry gradually began to feel uncomfortable, "Listen to my instructions – Keep your eyes closed, Potter! – Now…Envision something. A location. A peaceful one. A sanctuary, for lack of a better term. You are not required to tell -"

"- Sky. Flying, " Harry's voice was hoarse and dry.

There was a pause, before Snape continued, "Alright…That will be adequate. We'll proceed with that. You are more than adept on a broom. Focus on a clear day… " Snape's voice was oddly calming, and dare he admit it, soothing. "Now – Think of the stillness. No crowd. Just you and your broom. Push away all other thoughts within your mind. Try to only envision yourself in flight, and nothing else."

It reminded Harry of meditating, though he had never really experienced such a thing before. 

This is rather embarrassing.

As if Snape was anticipating this thought process, he continued, "Concentrate, Potter. Don't allow your mind to deviate."

Blimey.

Harry nodded again, eyes still tightly shut, in his attempt to focus on anything else but the flash of green reverberating within his memory. Initially, all he could think of was Quidditch. But Snape insisted on something less chaotic. Instead, he tried to focus on the Quidditch pitch; emptied of the usual crowds within its stands, and devoured of the players circling the stadium. He tried to imagine rising up on his perch on his broomstick – his Firebolt. He tried to imagine a blue sky, with white clouds overhead. A slight breeze. A normal day. No disastrous weather conditions. No Dementors floating about. No Death Eaters after his head.

Just…emptiness. Silence. Peace.

"Focus on your breathing. Large breaths. Inhale…Exhale…" Snape initiated a count, and Harry tried to direct his efforts in breathing in unison with it, "Good. Very good. Keep holding onto that sanctuary you've painted within your mind, Potter. Adapt yourself to the sounds of that location."

Harry imagined himself flying upwards among the clouds; directing his broomstick to initiate loops and nosedives. He tried to imagine the Snitch fleeting from him like a tiny golden speck in the distance. He chased it – Finding himself speeding past the towers of Hogwarts. Over the Forbidden Forest. Skidding over the Black Lake…

Harry smiled.

He could feel his breathing begin to ease during his immersion into his painted sanctuary within his mind; his chest relaxing to all but a dull ache. Although his head hurt from the previously pounding headache, he began to feel more aware of his surroundings. His panic began to slowly ease, no longer threatening to suffocate him. He drew in one deep breath, and exhaled slowly, as he finally opened his eyes once again.

Blinking, Harry's vision returned to find Professor Snape still kneeling in front of him, watching him with bated breath. But as Snape watched Harry regain a sense of normalcy, Harry noticed his lips twitch to a small smile.

"Congratulations, Potter. You've accomplished the most basic form of Occlumency."

Harry's brow furrowed in confusion, as he watched Snape stand up on his feet. "Huh?"

"What was the first step to successfully learning Occlumency, Potter?"

"…Clear your mind?"

"Precisely. Your envisioned thought triumphed over your nightmare. You were able to push them away and focus on something positive. But in doing so, clearing it is first required."

Harry looked confused, still trying to settle his still-racing heart.

Snape paused in thought as he clicked his tongue in an attempt to bite back a sarcastic remark. Instead, his gaze lingered on Harry, trying to formulate a simple response, "Think of it like casting a Patronus against a Dementor attack, if you will."

"Why did I feel like I ran a marathon instead?"

"You were hyperventilating, Potter, " Snape softened his gaze, "We can…discuss that later. If you still have the elixir I gave you, I recommend three drops immediately." He glanced down at Harry's unkempt form, pausing before continuing, "Get yourself decent…I will be downstairs." Turning on his heel, Harry watched as the man disappeared past his friends and through the door, allowing his traveling cloak to billow behind him.

Once Snape was gone, Ginny rushed to Harry's side, and sat down beside him, throwing her arms over his shoulders. "Harry, we didn't know what to do. We heard you screaming, and we tried to wake you…" Harry felt her place a reassuring hand over his chest, finding well-needed comfort within her touch.

Ron shifted uneasily on the spot, "And I thought your scar burning seemed bad. I've never seen you freak out like that before. Wait, it's not your scar, is it?"

Instinctively, Harry reached for the scar still evident on his forehead, "No. Actually, it wasn't. Oddly enough."

"We were so worried, " Hermione leaned in close to Ron, "Snape was already here, luckily. An hour later, we heard an awful scream. We thought you were being attacked, or something."

Harry clenched his jaw, "It felt that way."

"Well, we'll let you sort yourself out and meet you downstairs, yeah?" Ron clasped Hermione's hand, and together, they exited the room.

Harry drew in a deep breath and shamefully buried his head in his hands, feeling overcome with exhaustion. He felt Ginny rest her head on his shoulder, and they sat there together in silence, losing all concept of time. Those moments of peace allowed him to come to terms with the events that just transpired, and the hold of which the nightmares he could not let go of. Snape's analogy of the Dementors made sense. Absorbing and soaking up all sense of self and allowing the soul to become consumed with images of terror so great, that it felt like dying all over again. The visions were so vivid, it felt like it was unfolding repeatedly, causing panic to take hold of his body, which did not feel like it was under his control.

It was the same nightmare he had since the battle of Hogwarts when everything technically came to a chaotic end. But this time felt so much stronger; like it was another entity entirely. The weeks following had the Gryffindor so afraid to fall asleep, that he may never wake up. Plagued with insomnia, he simply felt like a shadow of his former self. A shell. His mind was so consumed with stress and the events which have shaped his life, that his mind felt like it contained a fog that would not lift. It made him feel like a ghost, not part of the real world. And those thoughts feed into his soul, fuelling those nightmares so intensely.

He missed the person he was before Voldemort made it difficult for him to live a normal life.

Reaching over to his bedside table, he retrieved the Animo Silentium elixir and proceeded to administer three drops as instructed onto his tongue, allowing the pearly liquid to seep into his system. Soon enough, he could feel relief as the apparent brain fog lifted from his mind, clearing away any dark remnants that may still have lingered from the nightmare.

Ginny watched carefully as Harry re-corked the vial, "Does that really help?"

Twirling the vial within his sweaty palm, he turned to Ginny, "Yeah, it does. It…helps me to focus a little better."

"I just don't want to see you having to rely on that."

Harry nodded, "It's why I try not to use it often. But I can't stop these nightmares, Ginny. I don't know what else to do."

Ginny brushed a few strands of wayward hair from her face, tucking them back behind her ear, "Once we deal with these Death Eaters, we can both focus on, well…Us. If that's what you still want?"

Harry looked at Ginny, almost offended, "Of course I do. Don't you?"

"I do, Harry. I know it's difficult at the moment, with everything going on. It's tough on all of us, " Ginny reached out to clasp Harry's hand, looking saddened, as she looked back into Harry's green eyes, "I'm just worried about you. I'll always worry."

"I'm just sick of this. All of this. Not being able to move on, without – "

"- I get it, Harry. You don't need to explain it to me."

"I just feel bloody useless. I've been distant. Especially, to you. That's not fair on you when you've been trying to reach out to me, " Harry sighed, running a frustrated hand through his hair, "You're dealing with your own problems. I'm just being selfish."

"Don't be daft. You're not being selfish. I'm just giving you time."

"I don't want to keep pushing you away, Ginny. I'm sorry."

"Look, we both agreed to take a step back. We did, and now that Voldemort's gone, we can take another chance."

Harry nodded, "I know, it's just…I didn't want anything to happen to you."

"I know, " Ginny tilted her head over to the side, "Besides, I can handle myself, " She grinned. But in her attempt to break the ice, Harry still felt terrible.

"Ginny…"

Ginny shook her head, "Look, if you really need to hear it, I wasn't going to give up on you. I know when it's safe to, we can properly be together."

Harry bit his lip, "Are you sure…you still want to be with me? I understand if you don't…"

Ginny's rosy lips curved into a smile, warming Harry's heart just a little bit more, "Yes, Harry James Potter. I still want to be with you."

Feeling a sense of relief, Harry released a breath he didn't know he held, as he gazed up into her glossy brown eyes. These moments – lately it seems – were rare. He had been hesitant and distant with most of his friends, but Ginny above all, he was afraid to spend quality time with. Since coming to a mutual agreement before the battle of Hogwarts, they both decided it was for the best that they end their relationship on grounds during Voldemort's reign. Harry didn't want Ginny as a target, so they painfully decided to step away. They knew that once Voldemort was finally defeated, they would rekindle their relationship once more.

Harry never stopped wanting that, it was one of the few reasons he kept on fighting. For her. For a proper future.

Now that the threat has mostly dissipated, Harry had often wondered if it was safe enough to re-pursue it. He missed Ginny dearly, but admittedly, he had far too much else on his mind coming to terms with his grief. Of course, he still felt it necessary to give her the space she needed, especially after losing Fred. However, he longed for her company like this. It made everything else seem so, insignificant. Even for a little while. But even with Death Eaters still out there, he was still afraid for her life. Everyone he feels he gets remotely close to gets hurt or dies, and he didn't want that fate for her. If something were to happen to her, he didn't know what he would do with himself.

Harry found himself looking upon Ginny's freckled cheeks, as he felt a smile on his face. She reached out to place a hand over the side of his face, pulling him closer, as she leaned in to plant her lips softly upon his. For several moments, their lips touched, as Harry reached his hand and placed it over the base of her neck gently, feeling her long red hair, as he pulled her closer. Their kiss was tender, and soft, as their lips lingered together in bliss for what felt like an eternity. But eventually, as they parted, Harry tilted his head forward, leaning his forehead against hers lovingly. He felt comfortable and safe within her company, and for this moment, there was nowhere else he'd rather be.

He felt a shift, as Ginny leaned in to plant another kiss on his cheek, before standing up and removing her hair from her shoulder. She smiled, "Get organised, alright? I'll meet you downstairs."

Still slightly in a daze from that moment of happiness, Harry nodded, as he watched Ginny exit the room, and gently shut the door behind her. Suddenly, it felt cold again.

Pulling some clothes aside – slightly overworn and frayed, but he could not care any less – he gathered what he could and made his way to the bathroom to get himself cleaned up. He soaked himself in the shower, allowing the hot water to cleanse his pale, soft beige skin from the feeling of filth from his night sweats. He closed his eyes, allowing the water to wash over his face, doing his best to re-imagine his sanctuary of flight once again.

When this is all over, he wanted nothing more than to take his Firebolt out on Hogwarts grounds once again. It was too lovely of a thought to not eventually pursue once he felt safe in the skies again. Perhaps he can convince Ginny to fly with him.

Harry couldn't stop grinning at the wonderful thought.

Feeling the time was adequate enough for him, he stepped out of the shower, dried himself off, and changed into another set of clothes. Taking in a deep breath, he wandered down to the dining room, to find Ron, Hermione, and Ginny waiting for him, with Severus Snape oddly sitting a few seats away, opposite from them. Luna was also there, as she must have just arrived. They seemed to be in mid-conversation but stopped as soon as Harry entered.

Lowering his head, he took a spot next to Ginny and began helping himself to the steaming pot of coffee on the table, filling up a large ornate mug before him. He took a moment to inhale the caffeine he so desperately needed on a morning like this, and glanced around the room, trying to avoid meeting Professor Snape's gaze for the time being. After their last conversation, a few days ago, Harry still had mixed feeling about seeing him here. Despite that, he was also embarrassed enough by the wake-up call earlier in his panicked state, along with the impromptu Occlumency-meditation session. His head was still aching. "So, did I miss anything?"

Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat, avoiding Harry's gaze, while Ron bit his lip. Harry's face fell, as he looked to Snape for further information, trying his best to avoid his direct line of sight.

Snape clasped his hands on the table before him, before looking back at Harry, looking slightly stricken, "It has recently come to my attention, that Mr. Dean Thomas' parents were taken yesterday evening."

Almost choking on a sip, Harry placed down his mug, a little too forcefully on the table, sending a few splashes of coffee to hit the table, "…How?"

"The Headmistress alerted me late yesterday, upon distress from Mr. Thomas. He has reported them both missing at the Auror Office, thus, the Minister is also aware."

"Were they hurt?"

"It is uncertain. I accompanied Kingsley to scout the location once the Aurors left, but no such signs of struggle were noted. I believe his stepfather is a Muggle, am I correct?"

Ginny, looking worried, bit her lip as she responded, "Yes, he is. Do you think they should be reported by the Muggle authorities as well?"

The Potions Master paused in thought, expression stoic and unwavering, "I believe the Minister remains in liaison with the Muggle Prime Minister, but for now, Mr. Thomas remains under guard at Mr. Finnigan's residence. That, of which, has now been heavily warded."

"Well, if things go south, he can always come here, " Ron suggested, with a lazy shrug, "Both, if Seamus won't act like a prat."

Snape shot down a look of warning to Ron, upon his use of language, causing Ron to shift slightly uncomfortably in his seat. Upon a few passing moments, Harry watched as Snape's expression turned more concerning, as the man's eyes darted to each teenager in the room much like he used to do in class, his voice now commanding, "In light of these events, I must insist you all remain within the safety of these wards until it is deemed safe enough." He looked over to directly address Hermione, "Miss Granger, I have requested Kingsley to assign round-the-clock surveillance to your residence. If they are truly targeting Muggleborn families, then I am afraid you and your family are also at high risk."

Hermione looked upset, and nodded hastily, "…Alright. Yes, of course. Thank you, sir."

Snape lowered his head in light of the gesture until each heard the front door open and shut. There was a slight shuffle in the corridor, and they could hear the portrait of Mrs. Black yelling once again.

"Good heavens, we need to do something about that wretched portrait. One of these days that woman is going to give me a cardiac arrest – " McGonagall walked into the dining room adorned in her favorite emerald green robes and scanned the room, looking relieved to find Snape there, "Ah, good. You're here." She took notice of the somber faces of the students staring back at her, and frowned, "Given by your anxious expressions this time of day, I gather you informed them, Severus?"

Snape nodded, "I did."

With an exasperated sigh, McGonagall took a seat beside Snape, as she looked at her colleague, "I have instructed Filius and Horace to assist in re-stabilizing the wards at Hogwarts. The Aurors stationed there still remain on guard. They've reported nothing out of the ordinary, thus far."

"Do you need any further assistance with fortifying the castle shields, Minerva?"

"No, not at all. For now, I need you to remain here. It's far too risky for you out there now, Severus," McGonagall looked over at Harry, "As for you, Mr. Potter…you must do the same. "

"What – " Harry began to protest but was cut off immediately.

McGonagall glared at Harry sternly, "- No exceptions." She clasped her hands casually on her lap, "If we are in desperate need of assistance, we will inform you. For now, be grateful you are in a safe space. The Order must remain on guard. We cannot afford any more unnecessary casualties."

Ron cleared his throat, feeling awkward with two Professors in the room, "Do you think they'd be any way of, you know…tracking them? The Death Eaters?"

Frowning, Snape pursed his lips, "Tracking? Don't be absurd, Mr. Weasley. If there were an inking of a possibility, we'd pursue it. They are highly adept at covering their tracks. If they could be tracked, Aurors would have found them a long time ago."

"I know you would know sir, that's why I asked. Maybe there was another way? The Dark Mark..."

Hermione intercepted, "What he means, is that - " She shot Ron a warning look, silencing him for the moment, until she turned back to the Potions Professor, "- Perhaps we can formulate another way. Some, advanced incantation that may at least give us an area we could search? If they are not convening in wizarding areas, then they most likely will be hiding out in Muggle ones. That's a lot of ground to cover."

Snape leaned forward on the table, placing his hand's palm downwards in front of him in an effort to subdue his rising frustration, "It is impossible, Miss Granger. The Dark Mark is imbued with dark magic, thus providing an element of protection for the host against any method of detection. It is not only designed to summon but to essentially, cloak the host from such charms. The Dark Lord would have never made his followers an easy target."

"Not even the Avenseguim Charm will work?" Hermione questioned.

Snape leaned back in his chair, with a heavy sigh, "No, it will not. That requires a personal object of possession, one which they are discouraged from carrying for such reasons. I assure you; You cannot magically track a Death Eater. They move undetected – That is the point."

"What about, oh I dunno…Altering it?" Harry suggested, but suddenly all eyes were on him. That was probably a mistake.

Snape sneered, "Potter, that is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. The Dark Mark cannot be tampered with. That is dark magic, even beyond my limitations. If it could be tampered with, I will no longer have it. Regardless, I'd not be so keen to discover its ramifications."

"It was just an idea. I didn't say it was a good one."

"Potter – "

McGonagall cleared her throat a little too loudly and held up her hands to silence them, "Alright, enough. Settle down. Severus, it won't hurt to hear alternative ideas. However, those of which, unfortunately, is not plausible by any means, I'm afraid. We'll just have to seek them out the, well…Old-fashioned way. So to speak. We have no other choice."

There was a short silence between the group before someone else spoke again.

"…Professor McGonagall, " Ginny said.

"Yes, dear?"

"Will we still have the memorial at Hogwarts?"

McGonagall's face dropped, as she looked saddened, "I am afraid it will still be delayed. I cannot risk an attack happening there…Far too dangerous given the current circumstances. The Minister also agrees with that decision."

"Blimey, we can't even have a memorial yet, " Ron looked at McGonagall, glumly.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley. There is nothing else I can do, " McGonagall adjusted her cloak, as she rose from the table, "Speaking of which, I must get back to Hogwarts. I don't feel comfortable leaving it for too long. Apologies for the quick visit."

At that very moment, Neville Longbottom walked into the house and proceeded to the dining room. He stiffened slightly at the sight of the Potions Master but turned to give McGonagall a nervous smile, as he awkwardly made his way to one of the empty seats beside Ginny, trying his best to avert away from the Potion Master's gaze.

"Ah, Mr. Longbottom. How is Poppy?" McGonagall smiled at the sight of Neville entering the room.

Neville shrugged lightly, "She's alright. A little stressed over at St. Mungos, but grateful for all the extra help. It's been bonkers over there."

"I presume so, " McGonagall smiled, "Will you be considering pursuing a career as a Healer?"

Neville chuckled, "Oh, no. Definitely not. Just volunteering for now, but I am learning loads from Madam Pomfrey. But I still want to further pursue Herbology, though." Harry watched Neville trying his utmost best to still avoid Snape's gaze.

Harry watched as McGonagall clasped her hands together. Something she usually did when she was pleased, or proud. Or both. He glanced over quickly at Snape, who looked slightly uncomfortable and rigid, at the current display of the praise of Neville. Harry couldn't help but wonder if McGonagall was doing that on purpose to further tick off Snape, but all amusement aside, he was extremely proud of his friend. If there was one person Harry has known to have grown so much in confidence and skill, that person would most definitely be Neville. Without a shadow of a doubt.

"I'm very proud of you, Mr. Longbottom. All of you, " McGonagall smiled, "Had I known I'd ever be dueling side by side with you lot, I'd have taken better care to teach you. Nevertheless, you make me proud, " She turned to look at Snape, "Severus, you should be proud too. After all, they did well to carry the mantle. Wouldn't you agree?"

Snape's thoughts wavered slightly as he paused, but eventually, he gave a curt nod in response, "Considering the circumstances."

"Alright, I shall not linger any longer. Be safe, all of you – " McGonagall wandered out of the dining room and departed from Grimmauld Place.

"I like her, " Everyone's eyes darted to Luna; whom Harry apologetically forgot was still there. She often remained quiet, but Harry was always surprised by how much she still picks up in conversation. Luna shrugged, "I really do miss being at Hogwarts."

Taking the previous conversations to mind, Harry figured he'd finally muster up the courage to ask what they had discussed yesterday. Finishing off the coffee in his mug, he finally encouraged himself to look directly at Snape, "…Sir?"

Snape diverted his gaze back at Harry, and replied in a tone so lazy, Harry had the inkling he wasn't in the mood for such lectures, "Yes, Potter?"

"Can you, err – " Harry shifted slightly uncomfortably in his seat, "Teach us something about the wards? Or, anything…Else? While we're here."

That came out wrong.

The man stared at Harry with such intensity, that it was unpredictable if he was going to explode with rage, or not. Either way, Harry braced himself, but eventually, Snape curled his lips with much bitterness, "Are six years of teaching you within my classes, lost on you, Potter?"

Hermione's eyes widened, and Harry could have sworn Ron tried his best to suppress a chuckle.

"That obviously came out wrong, " Harry felt annoyed with himself, "What I meant, was…We want to learn more from you. Teach us something you wouldn't normally teach in class. If we are going to be stuck here for a while, might as well make it productive."

"Please, no potions, " Neville intercepted, but looked at Snape a little sheepish, as he released a nervous breath, "…No offense, sir."

Snape turned to narrow his eyes at Neville, "I daresay I do not fancy blowing up the basement on your accord, Longbottom."

"Me neither, to be honest…sir, " Neville shrugged, "Besides, I'd prefer to have a defense lesson that doesn't result in using the Cruciatus curse on a first-year."

Ouch.

Snape stiffened at the statement, as Harry observed, and he realised he felt rather responsible about that added task designated by Voldemort himself. Harry could have never imagined Snape to be Headmaster and after their infamous confrontation in the Great Hall, he figured that was also something unwillingly bestowed upon him. From his accounts by Neville and Ginny, Snape tried his best to avoid direct conflict but had no choice in overseeing the Carrows in their horrific acts. Unfortunately, that was beyond anyone's control at the time.

Still, Harry could tell Snape still felt immense guilt over that.

After an awkward pause, Snape eventually relaxed the tension within his face, and gently sighed, "What about the wards, specifically, are you needing to know?"

Harry was pleased, not expecting that response, "Well. It's not really a matter of casting them that we were worried about. Hermione and I had enough experience with that. However, twice I've seen you detect such enchantments…It's like you knew which ones were used. How?"

Snape gently clasped his hands and placed them on the table, retaining his almost-rigid posture. Harry also noticed he looked slightly paler than usual, "With experience, you will come to recognise the after-effects of each protective enchantment. Each inhibits its own distinguishing feature. As the caster, you will be privy to such effects. However, to bring them down, one must be aware of the specific enchantment used. There is no single enchantment to bring them all down."

"That makes sense, " Hermione gently intercepted, "I read somewhere that wards are rather advanced, thus not many people are able to tell them apart. Is that true?"

"That is correct, Miss Granger. It is a frequent miscalculation when the wrong counter-charm is used blindly, causing it to backfire, in some instances. Aurors are adept in the skill, most specifically, in detecting disillusionment spells. Much like the one that masked my own residence."

"So, how do we tell the difference?" Harry asked.

Snape eyed each student before him, before jumping back into teaching mode once again, "There are two ways one can determine the wards used. By spell, or by contact. Common sense should prevent you from muttering spells everywhere you set foot – especially in a Muggle dwelling - but being able to physically detect any atmospheric disturbance, will be effective enough. Any wrong counter-spell used could prematurely set it off."

Neville grimaced, "No offense sir, but I don't fancy sticking my hand in what I presume may be a protective shield. I watched Snatchers get disintegrated because they ran straight for it."

"That's because the Snatchers are idiots. Any magical dwelling will have some mode of protection among them. They were too power-hungry to keep that in mind."

"So, what exactly do we look for?" Ginny asked.

"Wards are essentially, invisible barriers. But consider those barriers much like…Smoke. The outer layer will be lighter, thus becoming far denser within its core. To detect the ward, we focus on the lighter layer," Snape turned to Harry, with a raised eyebrow as he began firing questions, "Potter, do you recall that evening we went to Grimmauld Place under Death Eater guard? You were able to detect the ward. Tell me, what did you experience?"

Harry furrowed his brow trying to think back, but his mind was still slightly hazy from his horror-induced wake-up call earlier, "It felt like, a…a magnetic repellent."

Snape nodded, "Correct. That was Protego Totalum – A charm used to repel intruders. Did you feel anything else?"

"Well, " Harry bit his lip, in his attempt to remember further details, "Static?"

Snape nodded once again, "Cave Inimicium. Can be used to hide the caster or a targeted area. If you look closely enough, it creates a subtle haze within your vision, designed to avert your gaze."

"And it doesn't mask scents, " Hermione shot Harry a look, "…We learned that the hard way."

"There are several more distinguishing features of said shield charms, however…" Snape paused, as he seemed to stare off into the distance, unusually unfocused. Harry watched as the man's head swayed slightly and noticed him fasten his hold on the dining room table, his face a few shades paler, and his eyes began to blink lazily.

"…Sir?" Harry leaned forward, observing the man with great care. But as he looked closer, he could see his wound began to seep again with fresh blood, flooding the bandage still plastered to his neck. "Sir, your wound…" Harry stood up from the table, and looked over at Ron, "Ron, help me get him upstairs. Hermione, we'll need some of those blood-replenishing potions."

Snape immediately threw his hand up to his neck, trying his best to staunch the wound again. A few drops of blood were falling down over his robes, staining the little Harry could see of the collar of his white undershirt, "Bollocks."

"We'll get you upstairs – " The now panicked group watched as Snape swayed slightly as he slowly stood as dizziness overcame him, causing him to hunch over the table in a bid to steady himself. Hermione dashed from the table and sprinted out of the dining room to make it downstairs to their little potion stores in the basement. Ginny looked nervously at Luna, who both stood up, unsure of what to do. Both Harry and Ron took opposite sides, assisting their old professor in the journey upstairs to his room, with Neville following closely behind.

They led the Professor slowly and steadily up two agonising flight of stairs, to the second-floor master bedroom. They had to stop several times, for fear of Snape fainting and falling down the stairs. The more minutes that ticked by, the more sickly Snape looked. By the last few steps, they practically had to drag the man to the master bedroom. When they finally did, they helped Snape to the bed, and he fell on top like dead weight, losing whatever little energy he had left.

Snape's breathing was quick and shallow, which greatly alarmed Harry. Harry made a move to remove the bandage, but Snape immediately grabbed his wrist.

"Don't."

"Sir, we need to change the bandage."

"I'll deal with it myself, Potter. Leave me be."

Harry watched as Neville conjured some fresh bandages, and placed them on the bedside table, next to the vials of antidote – two fewer empty vials, much to Harry's relief.

Grateful, Harry nodded at Neville, "Thank you, Neville."

"I did have a small bottle of essence of Dittany, but I left it with another Healer at St. Mungos," Neville winced, wishing he had more. He bowed his head down apologetically.

"It's alright, we'll just have to make do without for the time being."

At the same moment, Harry could hear the rush of footsteps from the staircase and looked up to see Hermione bounding into the room. She seemed to be carrying several vials of Blood-Replenishing Potion, and the analgesic serum she had brewed yesterday, along with the essence of Murtlap she had left. Appearing flustered, she placed all objects beside the other vials, as she recoiled at the sight of the blood seeping through the man's saturated bandage.

Neville turned to Hermione, "Could you conjure up a goblet with water? He'll need fluids…Y-You know I'm terrible at that. I'm only good with bandages so far," He looked at the ground, sheepish, "S-Sorry."

Visibly flustered, Hermione nodded, "It's alright, Neville. I've got it." Withdrawing her wand, she transfigured an empty potion vial into a goblet and filled it up using an Aguamenti charm.

Snape grumbled in frustration, not so subtly, making it plainly obvious about all the fuss being made on his accord, "Is it absolutely necessary to have the entire Gryffindor brigade present?"

In an attempt to avoid any further arguments, Harry looked at the others, helplessly, "It's alright. I'll handle this."

Hermione looked at Ron and Neville and nodded as the three of them departed from the bedroom, gently swinging the door half-closed behind them. They knew full well that the only person that can get through to him, was Harry at his point.

Determined, Harry clenched his jaw, as he looked back at the sickly Professor, "Are you going to let me change the bandage, or not?"

Snape sighed, "If that's what it takes to have you leave, then yes."

Harry frowned, "You've been extra foul lately. I know you technically told me to back off the other day, but…At least let me help you. Is that so bad?"

"I have my reasons, Potter. You are not required to know everything about me. You know too much already."

"Well, you won't let me tell Professor McGonagall or Madam Pomfrey…Right now, we've all you got. So…You're going to have to deal with it."

With a look of distaste, Snape exhaled deeply, as he unfastened the few buttons on the top of his suit, allowing easier access to the bandage, "…Just do it. Quickly."

Taking that as a sign of compliance, Harry gingerly reached for the bandage on his neck, and slowly peeled it off, causing Snape to wince slightly at the discomfort. Using an extra piece of the conjured bandage, he bundled it up into a makeshift gauze and held it to the wound, allowing Snape to take hold of it. Harry reached for the Blood-Replenishing potion and the analgesic serum and handed them both to Professor, who shockingly, didn't hesitate to consume them this time. As he downed them both, Harry offered the goblet of water to him and he took a few shaky sips.

The blood began to slowly coagulate, allowing Harry to mop up the remnants of blood around the wound, hence giving him to get a closer look at what they were dealing with. He scrunched his face in distaste, as he observed the horrific nature of the wound. The wound itself looked like a mangled mess. It was not a clean laceration, as it was the worst of the man's wounds. Instead of healthy skin around it, there were dark tendrils of what Harry perceived as the curse inhibiting the wound from healing. The wound was clearly infected, as observed by the pustulant liquid oozing as well as his blood. It looked disgusting, and Harry was trying his absolute best to tend to it without dry retching.

Snape pursed his lips, observing Harry's disgusted expression with almost mild amusement, "That repulsing, I take it?"

"It looks absolutely ghastly if I'm to be honest, " Harry began to apply the Murtlap to the wound as gently as he could, without causing further discomfort to the man, "What about your other wounds?"

"They are sealed, and not as horrendous. This one is far more problematic."

Harry sighed frustratingly, "Look, once I'm done here, I'll let you rest. But afterward, we need to talk," He motioned to the wound, as he began to apply the new bandage, "About…This."

Snape shuffled in the bed once Harry was finished tending to the wound and positioned himself in a more comfortable position. With great effort, he looked back at Harry with wary eyes, "Unfortunately, there's no way I can get rid of a persistent Gryffindor whilst I'm stuck in a house formerly owned by Black."

"Well…Good, " Harry responded a little too smugly, and possibly a little too snarky than intended. At least Snape couldn't avoid him this time. Standing back on his feet, Harry looked back at the antidote vials, and gave a small smile, "I'm glad you took more of the antidote, Sir…Relieved, actually," Harry sighed, "I'll…leave you to it then."

Without waiting for a response, Harry left the room to preserve the man's privacy and dignity. So much about what he saw ran heavily on his mind with worry, and given their dwindling potions supply, there was only so much they could do for him. Harry couldn't help but worry. He could only hope that Snape would be able to give Harry a viable solution in regard to how to manage this fatal curse. If he were able to extend the life of Albus, then surely there was a way they could extend his.

If Snape could trust Harry enough to help him now, then maybe there was some sliver of hope after all.

Harry was afraid.

There wasn't much Harry would openly admit to being afraid of, but he was more so worried about what may happen. Seeing Severus Snape in that ill state, made Harry feel incredibly guilty and powerless. It took Harry a great effort to convince the man to finally trust him, and it seems as if just as they were getting along, they both got knocked back a few paces.

Snape had been extra bitter lately and he couldn't help but think that was the result of their last tense conversation. Just when Harry offered to reach out to him, the man completely knocked him back once he realised he was getting too close. Perhaps being snarky was his way of keeping his distance from him. Or any of his ex-students in his presence. It made sense on Snape's part, but it was frustrating enough for Harry to be dealing with that again. There had been times when Harry had sensed a genuine change within the man but would catch him off-guard as he instinctively fell back to his old spiteful demeanor once again. Perhaps he had been so used to doing that in the seven years he has known him, that this double-agent role he had become accustomed to, became a little too natural for him. And yet Snape was still compelled to help him, despite the simple fact that Voldemort is truly gone. He technically had no need to stay, and yet he did.

Snape was still struggling to find his purpose and drive to continue his own life, so he fell back into old habits just to keep himself afloat. Protecting Harry, being one of them.

Both were subsequently dealing with their own personal issues. Snape seemed to be concerned over Harry's wellbeing, even in his best effort to avoid personally showing it. Harry on the other hand was dealing with his own psychological issues inhibiting him from thinking straight, which elevated his levels of stress, causing insomnia and, now, panic attacks. Both were a mess at this point.

Harry often wondered what Snape does when he wasn't seeking refuge at Grimmauld Place. And yet still, despite Snape's efforts to push the Gryffindor away, it gave Harry an even solidified reason to help him. If he didn't try, who else would? No matter their past transgressions, Harry was determined to make things right, and at this point, they both desperately needed that reprieve. They had both suffered tremendously throughout this war, and Harry would be damned to make sure they didn't continue to suffer afterward.

Someone had to try.

Giving Snape time to rest after his unfortunate relapse, Harry wandered downstairs to find everyone else back in the dining room, sitting in silence, and waiting for him to join them. Slumping down on the chair, Harry lowered his head, feeling defeated.

"Is he…alright?" Hermione said quietly with worry, breaking the short silence among them.

Harry nodded, "Yeah. For now. I don't know what we are going to do once the potions run out."

"I was thinking about going back to the Hogwarts library and doing some research. Though I doubt even the restricted section will have anything on slowing or removing a curse of that caliber."

"I could go with Neville to the Forbidden Forest and see if we can find some more ingredients?" Luna suggested, "We'll have better luck trying to gather our own for now."

"But Snape and McGonagall told us to stay put, " Neville questioned.

Ginny stifled a laugh, "Since when do we ever do what we are told? Besides, Snape's not getting better in there."

"Hermione, any ideas on what we should do?" Harry asked.

Hermione sighed, "Not anything else beyond what we've already tried. We know those new antidotes will at least prolong his life, but to what extent, we really don't know. Or at least they seem to be keeping his symptoms at bay. We can provide supplementary potions to counter some of those, but again, we have the issue of a lack of supplies to keep up with that even remotely. We can't take him to St. Mungo's because one, he refuses to allow that. And two, he will be snatched up by Aurors quicker than you can say Slytherin, " Hermione paused in thought, until she continued with a look of uncertainty, "Only other thing I can suggest, Harry, is that we'll need to know more about the curse that Dumbledore received from the Gaunt ring. From what you told us about that memory, Snape is the only one to better understand how to prevent it from causing more damage. He is, essentially, the best person to ask."

Harry sighed as he nodded, "Once I go back in there, I'll ask him. " Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly dreading that task, "He's just not listening. It's been a struggle to get him to comply with anything so far. I don't even feel comfortable leaving him in there for too long by himself."

"I'm sure he'll manage, " Ron shrugged, "He's an adult."

"Ron, he is practically dying!" Harry snapped, "You saw the state he was in. After all he did for us, you're just going to shrug it off?"

"I'm not just shrugging it off, Harry. How can you help someone who doesn't want to be helped?"

"He spent years undercover, convincing everyone that he was no better than the Death Eaters seeking to murder us. He changed sides before my parents died that night, begging Dumbledore to keep them – us – safe…once he realised he messed up. Since then he's been working for the cause to bring Voldemort down. He is forever burdened by that guilt, Ron. In the end, he did the right thing. We can at the very least, do the same for him. He gave up everything and gained nothing, " Harry was saddened, composing himself with a deep breath, "Look, I don't expect you all to fully understand…You didn't see what I saw."

"Harry, we understand. We've seen how involved you are in making sure he is safe, " Hermione reassured, "It's been affecting you a lot. We can tell. I know it's hard to try and well save someone – Snape, of all people in the world. We're going to try our best to…give him a second chance."

Harry sighed, sitting back in his chair, "I just…I just feel like I owe it to him. If I didn't seek him out in the Shrieking Shack, he would have let himself die. Alone. I wouldn't wish that fate on anyone, especially not after what he did."

"I suppose if he didn't give you those memories at the right moment, he would have died without anyone knowing the truth, " Ginny interjected.

Harry nodded, grimly, "…Exactly. And I may not even have known how to finally beat Voldemort. We could have lost a lot more people that night."

"The more I think about it..., " Hermione trailed off, looking saddened, "I can't imagine what it must have felt like to have to…end Dumbledore's life. The only person who ever truly trusted him. That is absolutely horrid."

Harry shifted in his seat, looking away, feeling the familiar ever-rising guilt within his core, "And I was prepared to kill him. If that's what that guilt feels like, then I can't begin to imagine how much guilt he is going through. If I can offer Voldemort remorse before this death, then why shouldn't I extend the decency of a second chance to Snape?"

"Because you have a great sense of empathy, Harry, " Luna chimed in, "You've seen both sides to Professor Snape, and despite all the bad things he's done, ultimately, it's his final act of good that eventually turned his life around. You must ask yourself, why you haven't given up on him?"

Harry looked over at Luna, taken aback by the blunt question. Admittedly, he had been asking himself that same question ever since he found out he survived. He knew why he couldn't give up, but it was more of a personal affair deep-rooted into their history that made the situation far more complex than he ever cared to admit, "Because if Snape had the capacity to care for someone after they died, even despite their falling out, he was more than willing to sacrifice his own life for a cause she believed in. Despite the horrible things he has done - and had to do - He has more than earned my respect. No one could have done what he did. I just hope that one day, he'll accept that from me."

Luna smiled, "I'm quite sure he appreciates it, Harry. Even if he doesn't want to admit that. As you said, he could have left completely. But instead, he chose to stay. I don't think that needs explaining, do you?"

"We'll keep trying, Harry. There has got to be a solution out there for him, " Hermione reassured.

"I know you all have other things to worry about..., " Harry felt anxious.

"…We won't let you do this by yourself if that's what you are referring to, " Ginny shared a small smile with Harry.

"…Thank you, " Harry's voice broke, and he swallowed down rising bile within the pit of his stomach.

Feeling a rising headache building within his temples, he rose up from the table gingerly and was overwhelmed with stress as his chest grew heavy. His heart, was undeniably, heavy. Heavy with grief. Heavy with sadness. Today was just a little too much to bear with.

He should be relieved that Voldemort is gone, but really, it left Harry with a gaping hole in his heart. Like a void that struggled to be filled. There was just so much unfinished business now, despite the war being over. Somewhat. They were still treading on dangerous ground and the targets on their backs still shone like beacons. He felt afraid. Still afraid. Like that fear never truly left him. Yet again, the lives of his friends – his chosen family – are still at stake. The fear of losing anyone else tore his heart to shreds.

Plagued by sudden exhaustion, he turned to his friends, "I'm just going to go rest upstairs. Just, let me know if anything new happens, yeah?"

Concerned, Ginny leaned forward, "Do you need some company?"

Harry shook his head, "I…just need to be alone for a bit." Waiting for no further reply, he made his way up four flights of stairs to his room on the fourth floor. He considered checking up on Snape on the second floor but decided to give the man more time to rest. That's a task he'll tackle later. He required a little more brainpower for that kind of conversation.

Harry was not himself. He could not bear to lose anyone else again, because of him. He felt selfish. The need for his friends to remain by his side was so great, and yet with that same fear, he tried to push them away in order to protect them. He was a fool to think he could do this himself.

Is this truly what Snape was trying to do? Push Harry away in order to protect him?

Knowing the man did have a twisted moral compass, he didn't always agree with his methods. Then again, he approached his impromptu Occlumency lesson differently recently, rather than trying to assault his mind like he tried to do in his fifth year. There was always a method to his madness, but Harry didn't always understand or grasp the man's reasonings anyway. One thing Harry was certain of, is that the man was not simple by any means.

Nothing would ever be the same anymore. Everything has changed. Even Harry. Even Snape. Even his friends. The Wizarding World was currently shattered, with the Ministry in a state of drastic reform by Kingsley. Auror numbers were horrifically low, leaving other older wizards and people barely of age like Harry to take up arms once again. Harry was still very much a target. Snape is severely ill, with a high chance of facing an Azkaban sentence if he was to be caught by an Auror. The Order was doing its best to function. The DA was broken, with over half either dead or no longer refusing to participate. Death Eaters were still snatching or killing wizard-kind and Muggleborn families in a last-ditch effort to instill terror within the magical community.

Sirius was no longer here to give Harry comforting words of wisdom. Dumbledore was no longer here to empower Harry with his usual mood-boosting monologue. Remus was no longer here to offer words of comfort and genuine compassion. Fred was no longer here to keep him in good spirits. Dobby was no longer here for companionship. Hedwig was no longer here, wanting affection. No 'constant vigilance' pep talk from Mad-Eye Moody.

As Harry entered his room, a single tear rolled down his face, as he gently shut the door behind him. He sat down on the edge of the bed, feeling completely hollow, staring off into space and fixating his gaze on one of the dust-covered paintings on the wall. What a pitiful excuse for the Chosen One. Hiding away in his room because the pain was too great to bear. There weren't many tears left to shed, and now he just felt numb. His head pounding with pressure, but he was too scared to close his eyes again for fear of reliving the same nightmare all over again. All he could hear was the echo of the screams from his mother in the back of his mind, accompanied by the flash of green he's seen far too often in his life already.

He just wanted it all to end. Somehow.

Harry drew in a shuddering deep breath, as he once again, buried his head in his hands. He was anxious for a reprieve that may never come. What would his parents think of him now? Would they still be proud? Would they understand why he feels so detached from people? Would they forgive him for his choices? He would give anything to talk to them again. He knew he had the Resurrection Stone, but Snape was right – It was a terrible idea, and that kind of power should not be wielded so casually. It felt like the Mirror of Erised all over again. It would be so easy to consume oneself with that shred of happiness, but he could see how easily addictive that may be.

His stomach grumbled. What was the last thing he ate? He wasn't entirely sure. It was rare for him to eat an entire meal, but now it seems he was just picking at food out of habit, barely consuming anything at all. Well, that could be one cause of the headache. But he just had no desire to eat, nor did he have a measure of an appetite these days.

What has his life now become? The darkest wizard of all time was finally defeated by his hand, and now he was reduced to a pitiful, psychological wreck. A hurt, vulnerable, and anxious version of himself that he always feared to face. Now he understood why Severus Snape had no desire to live out the rest of his life. It made even more sense. Everything had eventually crumbled, leaving nothing left but a hollow pit within his very soul, trying to come to terms with all that has happened. It felt like some twisted fever dream.

Yet again, Harry still felt selfish. He tried desperately to convince himself that he was not that man two floors down, dealing with his own trauma, grief, and sense of purpose. And yet still, he understood how it felt to push people away when they were trying desperately to help. He only hoped his friends wouldn't give up on him. He felt ashamed to even feel this way, but he just didn't know how to deal with what he was facing.

He lay back down on his bed, staring up at the faded ceiling like he has been doing since the first night they reclaimed Grimmauld Place. The afternoon light piercing from the window faded to the dull dusk of the sunlight. Eventually, the night settled in, and he was once again lost in his own thoughts.

Harry closed his eyes and tried to re-imagine his painted sanctuary once again, in his desperate bid to remove the horrible influx of thoughts swirling within his mind. Identical to the one he created for himself that morning, he tried to focus on the thought long enough to become immersed once again. Oh, how he wished to be back on his Firebolt again. He replayed the same repeated image in his mind until he felt content enough with such a wish. This time he imagined flying side-by-side with Buckbeak. Well, it wasn't too far-fetched of a thought. Feeling a little more measure of peace within himself - albeit very lightly – he eventually drifted off to sleep.

Once he opened his eyes, he completely lost track of time when he looked out the window to find the crescent moon high overhead through a partially-cloudy sky.

The house was all too quiet now, but at one point, he could have sworn he heard faint sobbing from the floor below. The walls of Grimmauld were far too thin, and it didn't take much to overhear anything. He was too anxious to check it out, but it was the sound of a woman. Was it Ginny? Or Hermione? Both women were dealing with their own issues, and yet Harry felt even more guilty for struggling solely with his own. Unsure of how much time had passed now, Harry managed to force himself up and out of bed and wander slowly downstairs.

Passing the third floor, he found Ron leaning up against the wall, watching Harry descend the staircase. Still hearing the sobbing from one of the smaller bedrooms, he looked at Ron with deep concern, as he slowly approached his friend.

"…What's going on?"

Ron looked worried, "It's Hermione. She was just feeling sort of…overwhelmed. With everything. I've been in there with her, but Ginny's there now. " He shoved his hands in his pockets, unsure of what to do, "She's worried about her parents. They are fine, but everything is sort of…catching up with her, I think."

Harry drew in a deep breath, definitely feeling the heaviness of the situation and the toll it has taken on all of them, "…We're a mess, aren't we?"

"Yeah, we are," Ron shrugged, avoiding Harry's gaze, "It'll hit us all eventually, if not already. I don't know what to do for her. I feel bloody useless."

"You've been with her, and I'm sure she appreciates that more than you know."

Ron nodded, "Yeah, I suppose. Still feels terrible, though."

"It'll be okay. We'll all be okay, somehow, " Harry tried to reassure his best friend, hoping it was enough to convince even himself.

"I'll just be here in the meantime. Go check on Snape. He hasn't come out of there for a few hours."

"Hours? You didn't check?"

Ron shook his head with a look of mild distaste, "Me? You must be joking. One knock from me, and he'll turn me into a footstool. So far, you seem to be the one less on his nerves right now. Ironic, isn't it?"

"I suppose it is. You've got this, Ron – Stay here with Hermione. I'll-I'll just be…downstairs, " Grasping the railings with a slightly trembling hand, he continued down the next flight of stairs, approaching Snape's room with much caution. Knowing Hermione's situation was being handled by Ginny, he decided to pay the Potions Master a visit, and make sure he was still at least marginally okay. Despite the feeling of invading the man's space once again, he needed answers. Grasping at straws in the dark wasn't getting anywhere and he was sure to lose it next time Snape decides to send him away again for his 'greater good'.

Harry knocked gently on the door several times, hearing a shuffle from within. Good, he's awake.

"It's err...Harry."

There was a pause before the familiar baritone voice pierced the silence, "…Enter."

Pushing the door open carefully, he entered the dark room, only illuminated by a single candle at his bedside. He found the man sitting up on the edge of the bed, looking mildly better than he last found him, and watching as Harry walked in through the door, closing it carefully behind him. It was hard to tell within the candlelight, but he appeared somewhat better than his faint, sickly appearance earlier in the day at the dining room table. Snape's usually stern face appeared relaxed – He possibly managed some sleep after all, and better than Harry's disastrous efforts earlier last night.

With an outstretched arm, Snape motioned for Harry to sit in the horrifically unappealing emerald velvet armchair stationed in the corner of the room. "Sit, Potter." Harry couldn't tell if his blank tone indicated that he was irritated by his appearance yet again, or perhaps he simply expected the Gryffindor to eventually show up.

Without another word, Harry hesitantly took a seat as instructed, being careful to avoid the man's direct gaze, and feeling nothing more than dread rising in the pit of his stomach. The last thing he needed was to give Snape an opportunity to peer into his mind.

Well, good luck deciphering that catastrophic mess.

Snape had been eyeing Harry carefully ever since he entered the room. Harry hated it when he did that because it made him feel like he was under constant unnecessary scrutiny. Once Harry had sat down, Snape did his best not to glare at him directly, as if he sensed a mode of sensitiveness with the situation at hand.

Shifting his posture upright, the man lifted his chin, allowing the curtains of his black hair to fall back away effortlessly, so his view of the Gryffindor could not be skewed. With a careful pause, Snape began to speak once more, "Did the imagery help?"

Confused, Harry shook his head, not understanding what the man meant, "Imagery?"

"Occlumency, Potter," Snape remained calm and meticulous with his responses, which Harry observed instantly.

"Oh, that. Yeah… " Harry's cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment, "It did. It…helped."

Snape remained unmoving, still observing Harry before him, "Good." His expression then relaxed; in fact, the man looked mildly amused, "…Finally."

That last word caused Harry to smirk, realising the ridiculousness of the ill-fated lessons in fifth year, and since Voldemort's downfall, now it seemed to work, "Yeah, it worked eventually. Only took two years."

Snape's amused face quickly faltered, as he became more serious, "Occlumency is more than just a mental shield, Potter. By painting a new vision within your mind, you are able to dissipate the remnants of a nightmare – or fear - slowly and temporarily and regain control. It is a considerably basic form of the art. It's not a permanent remedy as you are aware, but it can act more like a practical form of…meditation if you will. "

Harry raised an eyebrow, "Surely, it can't be that straightforward? Why couldn't you explain it like that, last time?"

"Because you are thick-headed. Besides, increased stress levels and anxiety before you sleep, coupled with certain traumatic events, can induce a nightmare, thus can cause distress upon waking. By thinking of more pleasant thoughts before rest, it can decrease the likelihood of that happening. At least, dull down the negative effects. "

"But how can that be Occlumency?"

"I said it was a basic form of Occlumency. There are several methods to its success. It is the first step to clearing the mind by replacing it with a vision of your own. A…Sanctuary. That self-made imagery essentially provides you with protection from an oncoming attack of Legilimency, or in your current case, trauma-induced nightmares. During your lucid state, your strongest emotions are relaxed. Once your mind is invaded, you must be able to visualise something of your own making in order to protect your own memories. An invader would not know the difference between the two."

"Okay, " Harry furrowed his brow in thought, "So, is that what you did with Vol-him? Visualised your own sanctuary?"

Snape winced at Harry's attempts to hold himself back from saying his name, sneering slightly before he finally answered, "To a degree. I was able to block his attacks by planting false memories among my own. A faux layer. It was the only way to hide my intentions. My true loyalty."

"So, can it be used against the Imperius Curse?"

"It can. However, only those highly skilled in the art will be able to resist it, but even so…That requires a far greater mental aptitude and perseverance for it to be somewhat effective. It is not always guaranteed to work, even with the required method of control."

"What about the Cruciatus curse?"

"You ask far too many questions, Potter," Snape frowned, "Occlumency can dull the pain, but in this instance, you must also use common sense. Masking the pain will indicate to the caster that it is ineffective; thus, they will continue to use it for a longer duration of time. As you are aware, the long-term effects of that are irreversible. Sometimes the wisest decision is to…succumb to it. Regrettably. Make it quick." Snape shrugged a little too casually for Harry's liking.

Thinking back to Neville and the fate of his parents, made Harry feel sick to his stomach. "Did he…Ever use those curses on you? …Often?"

The man narrowed his eyes briefly, "Silly question. You already know the answer to that. Crucio was his favorite," Snape spoke the last few words with such venomous disdain. There was a slightly uncomfortable silence between them, on the thought of the Unforgivable Curses that have ruled both of their lives, and it was obvious that neither of them wanted to continue with that train of thought.

Snape paused as his mind wandered, suddenly amused with something else, "Your mother and I used to have, what we called magical quandary discussions. In our early years, we often questioned much during our education and procured questions like these designed to test our intellect. We had rather fascinating debates, pitting two controversial subjects together in our bid to further understand it. Like you, she was always curious."

Harry's mood suddenly perked up on the subject of his mother, "I can definitely imagine that. Was she -" He stopped himself, unsure how to pursue further questioning in regard to his mother. It was a sensitive subject for the both of them, but if anyone could tell him more about her, it was Snape. After all, he knew her for the longest time. But Harry was well aware of their parting of ways, and he was walking a fine line of trust already with Snape. But he just wanted to know more about her. Whatever he could. After all, they were best friends before things took a nosedive for the worst. There was no way he was going to approach his Aunt Petunia about it.

"- She had a remarkable sense of humor. You adopted her cheek; I have no doubt about that. Sarcastic even at the most serious of times. However, she laughed often. I do recall several incidences that had her scolded in class for doing so. I believed she earned herself her first - and last - detention in Transfiguration for uncontrollable giggles."

Harry couldn't help but smile, suddenly feeling the warmth of her memory within his chest, "From the little I've seen in photographs, and the mirror, and the stone…her smile is what I always see."

And he was sure he saw a twitch of a smile on Snape, ever so lightly, but he could definitely see the sadness upon the man's expression, "She was always a positive spirit. Always willing to see only the best in people. Lily was the only person who truly saw me beyond the Dark Arts I delved in. She kept me grounded…Until her view became clear. "

Harry hung his head in shame, even though he knew he shouldn't blame himself, "Sorry, I shouldn't have asked – "

"No. You have every right to ask about her. The least I can do is preserve her memory for you…Somehow, " Snape's voice lowered, almost to a whisper, "I can offer you that much. What happened after, was my biggest mistake and greatest regret. The fault lies only with me."

"And you spent every year after her death making up for it, " Harry looked back at Snape, this time allowing himself to glance at the man's sorrowful eyes, "You have to forgive yourself at some point."

"There really is no forgiveness for me, Potter," The man was far too casual about that.

"I forgive you – "

"-You shouldn't. I don't want that from you. You, of all people, shouldn't. Because of me, you became an orphan."

"But I've come to terms with that now. You saved me. Every year, you protected me, and I spent most of that time suspecting you as the one wanting me dead…" Harry clenched his jaw, "I spent years hating you. Truth is when I found out you were the one who overheard the prophecy, yes, I wanted you dead."

Snape's eyes suddenly turned cold. Blank, even, as his voice dropped to a horrifying calmness that sent Harry feeling very unnerved, "Then do it, Potter. End it. I won't stop you. It'll be merciful."

Harry was livid, "You are not pulling that card on me. No, I'm not going to do it! I'm showing you mercy, now, sir, " He paused in an attempt to compose himself, trying so desperately not to yell in the man's face. He didn't want to argue again," I don't hate you anymore. We had a truce, and you told me that was enough. Is it, though? I want to preserve my mother's memory too, and I want to do that by doing the right thing. You may have messed up in the past, but it was Peter who betrayed them. They would have been safe if it weren't for him. "

Snape closed his eyes briefly, feeling tense and doing his best to remain composed. Once he opened his eyes again, he lowered his head, still deeply pained, "Regardless, the guilt destroys me. And it will continue to do so, despite your attempts at your…blind reassurance."

"It's not blind reassurance. I'm being genuine. As Lily's son…I want to help. If my mother helped to keep you grounded, then allow me to do the same, " Harry leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees, as he looked away from Snape for any willing sign of resolve. He heard a sigh from the man just as stubborn as he was, as they sat in a diffusing silence, hearing nothing else but the faint ticking of the small antique clock upon the mantle. Both were tired of the conflict. But Harry could see that his words were gradually getting through to him, even if this was taking longer than he anticipated. After a pause, Harry sighed, "Why did you give me those memories? The personal ones. I mean, I know many of them were private..."

Snape pursed his lips, "It was the last plate in your armor – the last drive – to bring the Dark Lord down. You needed the entire truth to do what needed to be done. Figuratively, I hadn't expected to survive beyond that."

There was another pause – they seemed to be doing that a lot lately – which Harry suspected now was their automatic way of biting back words that could potentially be devastating for both of them. Harry nodded in understanding. But he was sure it may be his attempt to diffuse the situation and redirect the conversation into something less stress-inducing, and they both knew that they were on a path that neither expected the other to travel on. It was a peculiar sort of fate. Here they were, once enemies, finally trusting the other enough with such sensitive information. Harry was so determined to understand Snape, and Snape although still bitter, cared enough to share things about Lily. If Dumbledore were here, he'd definitely be more than amused by this strange connection between two odd souls amidst an old feud.

"Speaking of those memories, I have to ask…" Harry drew in a deep breath, finally summoning the next bit of required courage for his next dreaded task, "How did you combat the curse? Dumbledores. The memory you gave me…"

Snape's expression turned somber once more, "It was never combated, Potter. It was simply halted temporarily. The curse is irreversible."

"That potion you used – "

"- Will not work."

"Why?"

"Because it's missing a key ingredient, " Snape explained, "Fawkes's tears. As you know, that bird is long gone."

"You didn't keep any?"

"Phoenix tears must be fresh. They dissolve after a short duration of time, rendering them completely useless."

"Surely, there has got to be something else we can do?"

"The curse is designed to be fatal. It was passed on from one vessel to another."

Wait did he just…?

Perking up once again, Harry's brain began to reignite on a potential solution, "So that means there will be a way to…send it back? Give it another vessel?"

"Tampering with a curse is highly dangerous, Potter. I daresay if that has even been attempted before. That requires Dark magic, those of which I forbid you to utilise at any cost. "

"We're not creating a new curse, sir. We just want to, well…shift it. That can't be Dark magic."

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose, "Stubborn Gryffindor. Do not go and do something foolish. I refuse to allow you to risk your life on my accord! I didn't spend every year keeping you safe, only for you to run off and do something reckless that could potentially have you killed. I will not allow that!"

"I'm going to look into it and we'll find a safe way, alright?" Harry pleaded, "I don't want to feel guilty for not trying hard enough."

Harry watched as Snape's eyes glossed over, but the man was consistent in remaining passive within his expression. He commended the man for not throwing him out this time by the scruff of his shirt or no exploding jars over his head. The cogs in Snape's mind were ticking; The Gryffindor could sense that by the way the man's breathing suddenly became shallow, and his eyes darted. If there was a way, Harry will find it, and he will make sure that he exhausts all of his options beyond his ability.

"Potter – " Snape's voice was deep, but he made every effort to convey Harry's name softly this time rather than in his usual commanding tone.

But Harry cut him off. "- You've been taking your antidote. That tells me more than I need to know. I'll leave you be." Harry rose up from the chair before exiting the room, gently shutting the door behind him.

The fact that Snape had managed to consume more of the antidote was satisfactory enough for the Gryffindor. That alone, told him that he intended to keep fighting, and with that small fact, Harry started to have hope once more.

If there was a way he could save this life, then he'll gladly do it.

Whatever it takes.

Crafty Potter. He should have been a Slytherin.

Severus watched as Harry Potter exited his room, leaving him uttering a frustrated growl once he was alone once more. The boy was annoyingly persistent, he'd give him that.

He glanced over at the empty vials of the antidote by his bedside and observed the remaining ones with deep thought. Perhaps he even surprised himself, that he was so willing to consume the other two this time, without further protests. As if he weren't thinking straight, and for once, not at the expense of a pleading Potter.

A pleading Potter. 

Desperation? Desperate over the life of a miserable man, who Harry had actually convinced himself that he was worth saving? He – Severus Tobias Snape. Why was he determined to consider that Severus' life was anything worth saving? He couldn't quite grasp that concept. What was it that the boy was expecting? He was so used to being his silent guardian – his protector – that he didn't know how to be anything more. His work as a spy and a teacher was his life, and without it, he was nothing. Just a mere shadow.

But Albus the old fool was right – Harry was far more engaging than Severus had convinced himself otherwise. He was so blinded by seeing the boy as his eleven-year-old self, that it was hard to grapple with the idea that he was far more mature than he originally presumed. Harry Potter was no longer the little boy curiously seeking the Philosopher's Stone, but now the teenage Chosen One, leading a rebellion, who destroyed the Horcrux's with extremely limited knowledge and defeated the darkest wizard of all time, while sacrificing himself to do so. The boy most definitely exceeded his expectations, even despite Severus' attempts to constantly undermine his ability out of habit and bitterness.

Now, Severus struggled to admit to himself that Harry Potter wasn't so terrible. Never in his wildest dreams did he ever envision spending any sliver of time with the Gryffindor. He allowed himself in his company so much more in the last three weeks, than he ever dared to in the seven years he had known him. Well, it was impossible for him to do so, previously. It was so easy to repel the boy during school, enough so that Harry made every effort to avoid him. It was easy to single the boy out and enforce his authority within his class. It was far too easy to force the boy to hate him.

But now – Harry admits that he no longer hates him. Severus was unsure of how to feel about that. He was afraid he was growing soft, that maybe too much time with the boy, had caused him to perceive him differently. Harry was the first person to admit such a thing, and the feeling that Severus was no longer hated…made him feel vastly overwhelmed with emotions he never thought he was capable of displaying. He spent his entire life being hated and misunderstood, that the idea of anyone – Potter, of all people – could even consider forgiveness, of all things.

To him.

He didn't deserve the boy's forgiveness. Or his kindness. Or his empathy. Not even Albus could express those virtues to him when he needed them the most. But Potter…

He had been wrestling with his dormant emotions for so long, that he had immense difficulties coming to terms with what they were. For so long, he prevented himself from feeling anything that would be perceived as a weakness. He suppressed certain emotions for so long, that he forgot he still possessed them. Severus didn't consider it before, but he did care. He cared about the boy's wellbeing. He cared enough to teach him. He cared enough to take the antidote, because deep down within his dark core, he didn't want to let him down now. This was his chance to make peace with his past, and this was his only opportunity to save what was left of his damaged soul.

He had a reason to live now. He was too terrified to admit that maybe, Potter was his second chance after all. Maybe he was too afraid to be alone. Or die alone. Perhaps retaliating against his old master wasn't the only noble thing he could do. Saving Potter – Harry – For Lily, was the other. But not just for her this time. Saving Harry, would ultimately, would save him too.

Severus just needed to learn to trust him.

The following morning was a quiet affair within Grimmauld Place and its occupants, and for the most part, Severus relished in the stillness that befell them all. Whilst Mr. Weasley was playing wizards chess with Potter in the living room, Miss Weasley and Granger were making use of their time at the Hogwarts library. Severus had spent most of that morning and afternoon tinkering away in the very minimal make-shift potions laboratory in the basement, trying to replenish an array of potions in case of an emergency. He was quite frustrated for the most part because their supplies were painfully dwindling, and Severus could only go so far as to procure the ingredients himself. Despite that worry, he was thankful to have a room by himself that didn't involve any Gryffindor – or Ravenclaw – to intrude on his privacy.

The afternoon eventually turned to night, and he allowed the other occupants to share dinner among themselves without his presence. Severus usually felt uncomfortable dining with them, which resulted in requesting Kreacher to send up a meal to his room. It took him this long to finally succumb to the idea of hiding out at Grimmauld, of all places. It was going to take even longer for him to feel comfortable with the idea of dining with them during mealtimes. He was far from eager. Eventually, the students went back to their original tasks in order to kill time.

Feeling more than capable on his feet now, he wandered swiftly upstairs to the kitchen to find Neville Longbottom nursing a large mug of what Severus detected as tea while sifting through an obnoxiously large magical tome. Beside the boy, was a small stack of books, and from what he could observe by the cover, they were a mixture of healing texts and herbology. He was far too engrossed in the book in front of him, to notice the Potions Master enter the room.

Severus eyed the boy curiously, as he poured himself a mug of tea, and snatched a mildly warm blueberry muffin from the center of the table, sitting down opposite the boy, several seats down away from the boy's direct view. Finally allowing himself a clearer view of the distracted Gryffindor, Severus noticed a scar on the side of Neville's face as a result of an altercation he heard of between him and Alecto Carrow several months ago. Severus kept his expression blank, but deep down, he felt a pang of guilt that physical harm had come to him.

"Light reading, Longbottom?" Severus' snarky baritone voice caused Neville to jump in his seat and almost spill his tea, much to his anticipated amusement. He watched as Neville hastily shifted his mug away to prevent any further accidents, as he looked nervously up at the man.

"Oh…err, yeah…Just a little…Sir, " Neville shrugged, feeling slightly sheepish. The sudden company of the Potions Master was enough to startle him.

Masking his satisfied grin behind his mug of tea, he took a sip and placed it down in front of him. "Barely three weeks out of school, and you pick up a textbook? Admittedly, even I couldn't foresee that from you."

Neville gave a light laugh, "Well, I want to stay productive. It helps keep my mind off things."

"A wise decision," Severus nudged his head towards the book, "What are you reading?"

"Oh, I'm just reading up on the Wiggentree, " Neville shrugged, "Just trying to learn what I can with Herbology. It's not like I learned much else this year, besides trying to defend the school from the Carrows. This is a nice change."

Severus furrowed his brow, "Noble efforts, Longbottom. Noble, yet incredibly foolish."

"We did what we had to, sir. If we knew you were on our side, we could have done things a little differently. But I don't regret what we did," Neville was confident in his response, and Severus really did silently commend him for that, "Though, sorry for trying to steal the sword."

"Again, a very foolish idea. It would have been too great of a risk to lose that sword and jeopardize my mission, " Severus drew in a breath, "Regrettably, I had to play my part enough to be convincing. To both the DA and the Carrows. I cou – "

Quickly, Neville interjected the Professor, "– I know. Your hands were tied. I understand now. But what's done is done. We can't change that."

Severus lifted his head, curious of how Neville Longbottom suddenly grew into his own. Surely, he wasn't the same timid, bumbling idiot he taught in first year? The same boy who stupidly bought his toad to Potions class in his third year. The same boy who melted his own cauldron multiple times. The same boy who had his boggart turn into him during Remus' absurd Defence class, which Severus was begrudgingly well aware of. The same boy who left his Gryffindor common room passwords lying around amidst the infiltration of Black. The same boy who couldn't brew a simple Potion by himself, without disastrous effects.

Instead, he never imagined him to take a stand, lead a rebellious group within Death Eater's hold, and was willing to endure torture to save other students. Surely, that could not have been the same boy?

Regardless, Severus was pleased that perhaps, education wasn't lost on him after all. But there were many things that even he couldn't teach him.

Severus stared at the boy, still perplexed by his sudden transformation. With careful consideration, and for once in his life, cut the boy some slack, "Your leadership is…admirable. "

A smile tweaked on the corners of the boy's face, "Thanks, sir. That means a lot coming from you."

"Regardless, never stop learning, " With a curt nod, Severus withdrew his wand, and with a small flick, the magical tome Neville was reading, immediately slid all the way across the table away from his reach. Neville recoiled back not expecting it and frowned at the man. Satisfied by the response, Severus raised his eyebrow almost mockingly, "Now tell me, Longbottom - What is the etymology of the Wiggentree?"

Neville hesitated for a moment, as Severus noticed slight panic on his face. But he quickly composed himself and clicked his fingers several times in a bid to jog his memory, "Err, the Wiggentree is a magical rowan tree, which derives from the folk name of 'wicken tree'."

"Primary use?"

"Protection against dark creatures and is used as ingredients in potions, " Neville barely came up for breath, as he fired off an answer.

"What creatures usually guard it?"

"Bowtruckles, sir."

"What potion is it best known for, and what elements are used as ingredients?"

"Err…The bark and twigs are used in the Wiggenward – "

"- Wiggen-weld."

"Yeah, Wiggenweld potion, " Neville winced at his small blunder, "That's the one. A healing potion, an antidote to Sleeping Draught, and Draught of Living Death. So…did I pass?"

Keeping his usual passive expression, Severus raised his eyebrow ever so subtly, "Acceptable."

Neville sat up straight in his chair, clearly quite pleased with himself.

"Don't be too pleased with yourself, Longbottom. I'll quiz you on something else tomorrow, " Severus responded, a little too smugly as he watched the color drain from Longbottom's face, but just as he opened his mouth to speak again, a wisp of white light materialised beside him, taking the form of a housecat Severus immediately recognised as Minerva's Patronus.

The cat danced around the table, until it sat down directly in front of Severus, boring its ethereal misty white eyes at his black ones as it conveyed her message with her voice, "Severus. A word if you please. Shrieking Shack would be ideal." Once the Patronus' message was delivered, it disappeared like smoke into nothingness.

"Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on things here," Neville offered.

Nodding once at Longbottom, Severus slowly pushed himself up from the table, despite the mild throbbing pain in his neck, he made his way to exit the room. Bounding out of Grimmauld Place, he Disapparated beyond the wards, directly into the Shrieking Shack where Minerva was waiting patiently for him.

"…Minerva", Severus bowed his head, respectively.

"Apologies for pulling you away at this hour, Severus, " Minerva sat down against the armrest of the old couch and clasped her hands over her lap neatly.

"No matter. Everything alright?"

Minerva nodded, "Oh, yes. Don't be alarmed. In all honesty, I was hoping for any updates you may have since I saw you yesterday."

Severus gently shook his head, "Nothing new to report. I've heard no further updates as of yet."

"…How's Mr. Potter handling things?"

Pausing upon mention of the boy's name, Severus clasped his hands in front of him, slightly fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve, "…Managing."

Minerva's face fell once she was able to read the man's face. Years of comradery with him was enough to indicate that his voice wavered with concern, "Oh, Severus. I could tell when I saw him yesterday, he looked…" She shook her head sadly, "Anything you'd like me to do for you?"

"Nothing at all. Potter and I have been…Speaking."

"…Oh?"

Severus' eyes shifted focus, "…On civil terms."

Minerva gave an exasperated sigh, "Well, I'm relieved to hear it. I don't want to see you both arguing again. Merlin forbid, you've known the boy for years."

"It's a work in progress. If I'm to be housebound in the same location as Potter, then it is necessary for one's sanity."

Minerva smirked, "I'm sure it's more than necessary. You treat the boy like a menace. He's come a long way; I hope you know."

"Haven't we all?" Severus drew in a deep breath and took a seat on the couch. He was almost tempted to tell her about his injury, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. It took every ounce of strength to mask the throbbing pain within his wounds, but even still. He couldn't bear to tell her the truth. Not yet. That was another worry for another day.

Minerva's face crinkled in concern, "You've dealt with a lot, Severus. I can't imagine how you must be coping with everything."

Severus frowned at the woman, "There is…a measure of relief not to have to report to the Dark Lord anymore. "

"Then why are you still insistent on addressing him that way? It's Vol-"

"- NO, Minerva. It's so easy for everyone else to say his name, but when you've had to report directly to his face for years…" Severus closed his eyes briefly, wishing that he didn't have to deal with such a thing that others may perceive as meaningless. To him, it was so ingrained into his being, that he felt like he'd be punished again for not addressing him by his own title. Still, he refused to be that careless. He still hadn't fully convinced himself that his old master was truly gone.

"That part of your life is over now. Surely there are other worries worth investing your energy in."

Severus opened his eyes, to glance at Minerva's comforting ones, as he nodded, "Of course."

"I think it's rather admirable that you are still persistent on protecting Potter. I was adamant that you were keen to flee…after everything."

"The danger is still very real. I will protect the boy for as long as I am able. Besides, I am not such a coward," Severus averted his gaze away, knowing that he struck a chord with the woman.

Minerva's face fell, knowing full well it was she who ushered such words to the man before her, "No, you most certainly are not. Please don't take this the wrong way, Severus, but he is lucky to have you."

Severus frowned at the woman, "I am only protecting him. Nothing more."

"If you insist, " The elderly witch tilted her head at Severus, "Albus keeps asking about you."

"His requests of me now are useless."

"You'll have to face him at some point, you know."

Severus scoffed, "I most certainly will not. I'm no longer obliged to attend to such a task."

She threw her hands up, "Good heavens, your stubbornness is enough to land you in Gryffindor."

Severus looked offended by that comment, "I highly beg to differ."

"Just try and make the effort, if you please? " Suddenly startled, she stood up from her perch, with her line of sight passing just over his left shoulder, "Oh -"

Closely following her distracted gaze, Severus stood up and turned on his heel to find the corporeal form of a feline Patronus phasing through the wall of the Shrieking Shack, and materialising before them. They both watched as the ghost-like creature bounded through the air, and settled between them, but it faced Minerva as it moved to relay a message. It was a Lynx, cast by Minister Shacklebolt.

"Minerva - There has been an attack. Dark Mark spotted at Godrics Hollow. Several casualties thus far. Reinforcements required immediately." And with that disheartening message, the Patronus vanished.

Stunned by the message, Minerva turned to Severus, eyes wide with concern, "Go back to Grimmauld Place immediately. Stay with Mr. Potter! I'll round up Arthur, Filius, and -"

"- Minerva – "

"- Don't argue with me, Severus! Now. GO!"

Clenching his jaw, he turned on his heel and Disapparated away, reappearing back at the park across from Grimmauld Place. Barely waiting for his smoky form to completely solidify, he darted swiftly across the street and burst through the front doors, ignoring the angry protests from Mrs. Black's portrait.

Severus made a beeline to the kitchen but found it empty, all except for the stack of Herbology textbooks Longbottom had been sifting through earlier. The previously occupied chair was found toppled to the floor. Slow panic was arising within Severus' chest, as he began to race up the old staircase to the first floor, ignoring the persistent throbbing of the wound on his neck, as he entered the sitting room.

"POTTER!" The room was empty. The half-played chess set was lying on the small table between the single sofas in the corner of the room, unoccupied by either Potter or Weasley. Severus withdrew his wand, as a breath caught in his throat. Abandoning that room, he raced back out and began the ascent of the stairs to the upper floors. He hastily checked each room as he passed, but there was no sign of Potter and his cohorts anywhere.

"POTTER! Answer me!"

Dread rose up in the pit of his stomach when he realised that they must have stupidly run off to Godrics Hollow, however, he was unsure of how they were signaled in the first place. Kingsley would have avoided getting Potter involved, as he knew he was a target. So surely, the message would not have come from him. The only thing that came to mind, was another member of the DA rebellion group had beaten him to it. Perhaps one of them alerted the others? Too many questions ran through Severus' mind, but his first priority was to find Potter.

Finally reaching Potter's room, his suspicions had been confirmed. Neither of them was present when he discovered this room to also be vacant. Growling in frustration, Severus entered the room, and quickly scanned the contents he could see, until his eyes rested upon the Gryffindor's Invisibility Cloak. Leaving the premises onto public ground was an incredible risk to the elusive Potions Master unless he was absolutely careful. Surely Potter wouldn't mind if he borrowed it again for the time being. He couldn't risk getting caught.

Swapping his traveling cloak for the Invisibility Cloak, he burst out of Grimmauld Place with his wand clutched tightly in his hand, swinging the Cloak over himself, and Apparated away as soon as he was ready. Reappearing by the small pathway behind St. Jerome's Church within the village, he hunched down beside the building, scanning the area, and calculating his next move. Immediately, he could hear yelling and screams a few streets away.

Godrics Hollow. Being here was enough to make Severus utterly repulsed with himself. He had not been here in almost seventeen years since the very night the Dark Lord proceeded to eliminate the Potters. That fateful night, forever brought a chill to the man's heart whenever he was reminded of his actions. On that night, Severus' Dark Mark had faded, immediately indicating to him that something had happened. Upon word that his then-master had done the terrible deed, Severus had immediately fled to this very village and bared witness to the aftermath of the cottage in which the Potters were supposed to be protected. Hiding in the shadows once more, he had watched helplessly as Muggle and magical folk flocked to the scene and the destruction that befell them. Overhearing enough of the crowd, was enough to tell him that all was lost.

Lily. Gone...Dead. Because of him, and that fatal mistake…

NO! No…It was that pathetic, filthy excuse for a rat. Wormtail! HE betrayed them!

Severus' heart began to race against the turmoil of his mind. Being here sparked too much self-fuelled anger and regret. He directed his gaze upwards to find the familiar Dark Mark plastered across the clear, starry sky. The green glow of the Mark was enough to cast an eerie illumination of emerald light across the small village, which made Severus recoil in distaste. Instinctively, he reached for his left forearm, where his own Dark Mark was etched into his skin. Another painful reminder.

Tightening the hold of the Cloak around him, he pressed forward, being careful to take silent steps to mask his position. He had to avoid being caught by an Auror at all costs. That, or being ratted out by an Order member who was still very disapproving of his actions. Both of which were highly likely to occur at this point. His trust in anyone ran very thin, but his main priority was to keep Potter safe, and that's what he intended to do.

As he edged forward, the voices of those in battle grew louder. But upon his line of sight, he saw an unmoving form of someone hidden away beside a garden hedge on the pathway to the village center. Severus examined the area quickly, and once he deemed it safe enough, approached the victim cautiously with his wand at the ready. It appeared to be a deceased middle-aged man, sprawled onto the dirt, tangled up in a mess of navy and purple robes. Blood seeped through his robes and saturated the ground underneath him. His ivory-colored wand lay inches away from his hand, which was also covered in blood. He wasn't sure if it was an Auror or another magical bystander who tried to help, but the sight was still unnerving.

People thought that Severus Snape was a foul, sadistic creature, who took pleasure in seeing harm come to others. No. Not this. Even this was enough to make Severus feel repulsed.

Abandoning the poor victim, he turned on his heel, and headed straight for the village center, keeping himself close to the old cobblestone fences as he went. Once he saw movement up ahead, he stopped in his tracks as two dueling figures came darting furiously into view. The unmistakable voice of Miss Granger was one of the two, which left the other either a Death Eater, rogue Snatcher, or simply a Dark Lord supporter. In retrospect, not all of the Dark Lord's followers were Death Eaters. Whoever he could round up, was sufficient enough. As long as no Dementors were present, this would be could easily be dealt with.

Severus watched Granger fall back behind a cobblestone fence, as the opposition advanced at her with explosive spells, whilst the Gryffindor tried to deflect them as best she could with an array of shield charms. Wasting no more time, the Potions Master bolted towards the pair and raised his wand, flicking it in a powerful downward motion, causing the ground under the Death Eater's feet to explode, hurling him backward onto his backside. The enemy scrambled to his feet, looking wildly around for his invisible attacker, as he made his move to retrieve his wand meters away. Without a click too late, Severus flourished his wand again, sending a jet of blue tendrils of magic to the man's chest, knocking him out instantly. Granger jumped back up onto her feet to the now-disarmed man and conjured up ropes to finally bind him.

Once she was done, she extended her wand out in front of her defensively, looking around for the person responsible.

"Calm yourself, Miss Granger, " Severus stood a short distance beside her, "Are you injured?"

Looking relieved at the familiar voice, Granger answered breathlessly, "Oh, good. I suspected it was you, but I wasn't sure…Yes, I am alright. "

"I presumed you were at Hogwarts? Where is Potter?"

The Gryffindor bit her lip, knowing full well they once again, defied orders, "Hannah Abbott's family lives here. She alerted Neville, he alerted us, and well…we ran to help. Once we Apparated here, it was complete chaos. Everyone sort of…dispersed. Harry ran off somewhere, and I was occupied with…this one. He was leading me away. I couldn't get back to them -"

Severus growled, "- Of course he did. That's what they do when they have intentions to kidnap. They lead you away, leaving you defenseless without an ally."

The color drained from Granger's face, soon realising her close call, "Oh."

"Re-join the others. I must proceed to the city center at once – " Without a further response, Severus ran off away from Granger, in his frantic bid to find Potter.

However, he didn't pursue further enough, when suddenly, one of the cottages beside him burst into flames, and several figures bolted out of the residence, frightened for their lives. One of them brandished a wand – a young woman – with two younger children at her side. Another man followed closely behind her but turned back to the house in a desperate bid to douse the flames with his own wand. With the attacker nowhere to be seen, Severus wasn't quick enough as he watched the house crumble like burning matchsticks, flames consuming the residence as quickly as it caught alight. The family was visibly unharmed, and that provided its own measure of relief for him. Ignoring the rising guilt of not staying, he pursued quickly onwards, trying desperately to ignore the wailing cries of the children behind him. The children and their parents were safe, and that's all that mattered.

As he reached a crossroads, he saw more familiar faces up ahead. A group duel – Three versus four others; The four were wearing Death Eater masks. The ones dueling them were fierce. Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, and Hannah Abbott. One of the Death Eaters sent Thomas flying backward, only for a steady stream of flames - unmistakably exuding from Finnigan's wand – which hit the same Death Eater square in the chest. Severus waited as Mr. Thomas rolled into a sitting position, only to be nursing a fresh head injury as observed by droplets of blood cascading down his head. Once he took notice of their predicament, Severus headed towards them with his wand raised above his head.

'REDUCTO!' Casting non-verbally, he watched as his spell caught all four off-guard, however barely catching two of them, as they were whisked off their feet. Both Abbott and Finnigan looked around, confused, but once they realised they gained the upper hand due to their unknown ally, they continued to disarm their foes without further harm. Two of the four Death Eaters had since fled, and presumably, Apparated to safety. Severus couldn't afford to stick around, but he had hope that Abbott would attend to Thomas's injuries. From what he knew, both she and Longbottom had been volunteering at St. Mungos to aid the injured from the Battle of Hogwarts, so Severus was confident that would be able to handle it from there.

Leaving that group, he darted off in pursuit of the elusive Potter. The longer he was unable to detect his location, the more worried he became. He tried to convince himself that he was fine and holding his own. As he ran down street after street, it became more and more difficult to evade curious eyes and wary combatants, as he tried to remain undetected under the Cloak. The closer he edged to the village center, the more people he encountered. He did manage to spot Dolohov once again, but this time he was accompanied by one other, both who seemed to be dueling both Mr. Weasley and Longbottom. They were in an awkward location that Severus could not get to, but as he ducked behind a hedge, he watched as they fought.

Severus couldn't help but be pleased by the strength his students have now grown into. Although he fought side by side with Potter and his friends in the Forbidden Forest, the infiltration of Grimmauld Place, and his own residence, this was the first time he truly stopped to observe them. During his forced reign as Headmaster, he could not be directly involved, thus often leaving the Carrows to their own devices. But now, he could truly see those students fight with fierceness and confidence he was unable to bear witness to before.

And he couldn't help but feel immense pride.

Smirking underneath the Cloak, he waited behind the hedge and scanned the area before he proceeded. He had a closer view of the village center now, and his breath caught in his throat. From his skewed view, he could see approximately thirty allied combatants all dueling the opposition in slightly decreased numbers. He could see the bodies of some of the fallen victims scattered around, but he could not be certain if they were alive, nor even who they belonged to. Severus glanced to his right to see Filius against two others. Several meters behind them, was Lovegood dueling another, sporting a bloodstained jacket, who he could only hope didn't belong to her. In the far distance on the other side, he could see a few of the Aurors he recognised who was previously stationed at Hogwarts, whom he could only presume was re-directed at Godrics Hollow by Minerva.

But still, no sign of Potter.

As he watched Katie Bell and Lee Jordon attempt to pursue a single Death Eater to his left side, Severus thought he finally caught sight of the reflection of Potter's glasses.

But it was not until a single explosion blasted from one of the buildings to his far right, sending a shockwave through the village, knocking Severus completely off on his feet. He fell forward, missing a crumbled stone piece by mere inches from his skull, as he landed in a heap, tangled up in the Cloak. Amidst the ringing in his ear from the noise of the blast, he could hear distorted screams in the distance from those struggling to convey what they had just witnessed. Severus let out a small groan, as he was hit by a stabbing pain in his neck, feeling fresh blood slowly weeping through the bandage once again. Severus clutched the Cloak, as he slowly pushed himself up off the ground, wincing at the new pain in his left wrist. He must have landed on it when he was knocked off his feet. He looked around wildly at the ground around him, sighing in relief when he found his wand several paces away.

Feeling slightly dazed and confused, Severus steadied himself on his feet and finally looked around to get a good look at the fresh destruction around him. A building a street forward from Severus was up in flames leaving nothing in its wake. Thick black smoke billowed from what was left of its structure, but as he could see, several surrounding houses around it were hit collectively. Magical and Muggle houses were definitely in the line of fire, and his breath caught in his throat hoping above all else, that there were no fatalities.

POTTER! Where the bloody hell are you?!

The entire right side of the village center was covered in burning rubble, and the damage was far from easy repair. Edging forward slowly, he did his best to carefully tread through the rubble, looking around for any victims within his reach. Through the smoke, he can make out a few figures slowly collecting themselves up off the ground and looking around for their former allies. As Severus pressed forward, he saw a crumbled female form, her brunette hair cascading messily around her face. He walked closer, and as he could carefully see, despite the ash and dirt that skewed her face, he was able to identify her as Katie Bell. He raced to her side, and immediately checked for vital signs. With great relief, he discovered she was alive.

Her breathing appeared labored, and her left leg was twisted among the rubble, with a significant flesh wound. Using his wand, Severus carefully brushed her blood-soaked hair away from her face, to reveal a nasty gash from her ear to chin. Miss Bell started to stir and let out a pained groan as she began to awaken. Amongst the smoke of the ruins around him, he dropped down the Cloak over his head so that she could see his face. Despite her previous opinions of him, he had to let her know that he meant no harm.

Miss Bell finally opened her eyes, and let out a small gasp, before her face contorted in pain once again.

"Shhh, don't move," Severus lowered his voice to a calming whisper, and he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, "Be still. You have sustained a serious leg injury. It appears to be broken."

"…What happened?" The young woman looked frightened.

"I'm afraid I do not know, Miss Bell, " Severus moved his wand over the gash on her face, ushering a healing spell as he did so, as the wound began to mend itself. He started to remove pieces of rubble around Katie's leg to reveal the full severity of her injury, causing Severus to furrow his brow in concern. Hovering his wand, a small jet of blue light that illuminated her leg, began to reveal the damaged skeletal structure. It was a clean break sustained to her femur.

Severus looked to the woman, "I cannot move you until I mend the bone. This will -"

"- Just, get it over with – " Katie grimaced, as she braced herself, "Please."

He raised his wand, and flourished it over her leg, "Femora Emendo." With a sickening crunch and a small yelp from the woman, her fractured bones melted back together. As he sealed the wounds as best he could, he conjured up bandages and allowed them to wrap around securely over her leg, to support it following the mend. He turned to her, "Can you attempt to stand?"

Katie Bell scowled, "I'll try. Years of being pummelled in Quidditch gives one a high tolerance."

Gently pulling her back onto her feet, he watched as she limped on her still-injured leg, and guided her towards a safer area, and away from the rubble.

"Thank you…sir, " The young woman winced as she sat down, but gratefully looked up at the Professor, "I'll be fine here." She then shook her head sadly, "I'm so sorry. About the other day at the meeting…I was just shocked. I shouldn't have -"

"- No matter, Miss Bell, " Clutching his sprained wrist, Severus frowned, "I must go tend to the wounded," Turning on his heel, he sprinted off, quickly throwing the Cloak back over his head as he left.

Severus did his best to navigate through some of the rubble undetected, but there was so much more activity now that some of the smoke had started to settle. He watched as Aurors attended to their injured comrades, and some of the magical residents comforted some of their own in their shock. There were many wounded. Severus turned his attention to the village center, and he noticed some of the wounded gathering there for safety. He scanned their faces, but still no sign of Harry Potter. He stopped, and turned around, scanning the area for any sign of him, but with no success.

As he walked closer to the village center, something else caught his attention. There was a large square-shaped garden marking the center of Godrics Hollow, with pathways, stone benches, and flowerbeds blooming with the seasonal flora. Pink carnations, orchids, and gardenias to name a few. But that was not what averted Severus' gaze. In the very center, was a large stone monument – a statue. He had heard stories but could never bring himself to see them. The statue itself was of three figures. The Potter family; a testament and memorial for the night that family was torn apart that fateful Halloween night. The statue displayed James and Lily, with a baby Harry sitting on his mother's lap.

It was said to have a Muggle-repelling charm imbued upon it, giving it an illusion of a war-memorial obelisk to non-magical eyes. Only witches and wizards were able to see it.

He glanced at the James likeness of the statue and twisted his face in pure disgust. To Severus, no act of nobility from his past tormentor could erase the pain he created in his life. Hogwarts was supposed to be a place Severus could feel at home in. Instead, his tormentor made it a personal hell.

There was a reason Severus never wanted to return here.

The moment he looked upon the immortalised face of the Lily-likeness, he fell to his knees. Anguished and pained, he lowered his head, as he tightened his grip on the Invisibility Cloak completely masking the broken man underneath.

He truly deserved to be punished for what he did.

There was no plan. No inkling of a strategy. Just all hands-on deck once they arrived at Godrics Hollow, of all places to be.

It was only shy of seven o'clock that night when Neville had received a startling message from Hannah, as she notified him of a Death Eater attack at the village where they lived. Once Neville warned the others, it was complete chaos from there. Harry made use of the charmed master DA coin and signaled to the others in hope that they would hear the call. That wasn't even a debate. Once Hermione and Ginny hastily responded to the distress call, they appeared back at Grimmauld Place from their excursion to the Hogwarts library, delivering a stack of books in their attempt to find a solution for Snape. However, there really was no other time to waste, and Harry didn't even give it a second thought as the five of them raced out of Grimmauld Place and apparated directly into the village. Almost immediately, they were fired upon.

A jet of red whirled past Harry's head, as he rolled to the side, hitting the floor. He watched as a masked silver-masked Death Eater advanced on them, but Ron fired a hex back and knocked him right off his feet.

Ron extended his hand, to help Harry up, "You alright?"

Back on his feet, Harry clutched his wand tightly in his hand, "Yeah, I'm fine." He looked around, as Hermione, Ginny, and Neville quickly convened around them. They heard yells and screams in the distance. "Quickly, let's go!" Without wasting another second, the group burst into a run towards the strained voices they could hear, trying to take in the situation at hand as everything happened so fast.

A billow of smoke appeared on Harry's left, and three Death Eaters apparated and immediately advanced to fire, completely catching them off-guard.

"PROTEGO!" Harry fired off a Shield charm, repelling one of the spells from the opposition. Another curse flew by, exploding the cobblestone ground from beneath their feet. He heard Ron yell out a string of profanities, as both Ron and Ginny were completely knocked off their feet by a stray curse. Hermione hit back with a non-verbal Reducto, giving them a taste of their own medicine as the spell found its target. One Death Eater was knocked out cold, leaving two more advancing on them once more. Once Ron and Ginny clambered back up onto their feet, Neville threw himself in front of the pair.

"OI POTTER! A little rusty, are we?" One of the Death Eaters threw back a sniggering laugh.

"Oh, sod off!" Ron yelled.

Seething, Harry swung his wand arm furiously over his head as he fired, "INCENDIO!" A powerful jet of flames hit the second Death Eater in the chest, sending his robes on fire as he flew backward. Harry watched as he scrambled to douse the flames with a water charm, but the remaining Death Eater was eager to finish one of them off. Once he could see that he was far outnumbered, he disapparated away with his wounded comrade, leaving behind the unconscious one.

"Well, at least we got one, " Neville shrugged, looking over at the fallen opponent, "I'm going on ahead to see who needs help."

"Neville, I'll go with you, mate!" Ron offered. Harry watched as both Neville and Ron darted off toward the village center.

Hermione cast Incarcerous, bounding the remaining enemy in magical ropes. Tilting her head, he watched as she picked up the fallen wand at his side. She looked back up at Harry's puzzled face, "…Well, you can't expect me to just leave it here."

"We've done enough wand theft for the year. What's another one?" Harry responded.

Satisfied with their capture, Harry took off on his heel once again with the remaining Hermione and Ginny by his side. As they passed several more streets, more familiar faces came into view, leaving Harry feeling relieved that they weren't alone there. They passed Dean, Seamus, and Hannah dueling against their own enemies, in what appeared to be an even match. But they pressed on forward once they saw them handling that situation without them.

However, something burst into flames beside the trio. Startled by the noise, Harry and his friends turned to find a house caught on fire and witnessed a black-robed figure dart away from the scene. Hermione immediately burst into a run after the culprit, despite Harry's verbal protests after her, but she was long gone, leaving Harry and Ginny to try and douse the flames with a water charm. In their collective effort, they were able to extinguish what they could, when Harry immediately burst through the hot, burnt front door. Ignoring the sprayed embers, he looked around for any sign of life. Ginny followed closely behind him, recognising Harry's intention.

"Harry!" Ginny called out to Harry, "Please be careful! This place is going to collapse any minute!"

Frantic, Harry responded, "I know, but – Someone might be hurt in here."

They took a few minutes to rummage through what was left of the building when Harry stopped to find a fallen figure sprawled on the floor in what was once a sitting room. Harry's stomach lurched at the sight of the extensive burns this person had, but they were too horribly disfigured to identify. They were unmoving, without a breath. Lifeless. They couldn't be saved. He wasn't even sure if they were Muggles, or not. There was no wand to be seen. Ginny clasped his shoulder, knowing too well they were too late for this poor soul.

Suddenly, they heard a small whimper on the other side of the room. Harry turned to find an unburned section of the damaged rubble being shifted. Turning to each other in shock, Harry and Ginny raced over and began to shift away what they could. Eventually, they uncovered a young child, buried under the rubble. The child appeared to have a few burns to his arms, and legs, and a few cuts from the collapsed wall, but he was alive. Immediately, Harry picked up the child, and he and Ginny raced back out of the house in time to see half of the house collapse from the extensive damage.

Taking the child a short distance away, Harry placed the frightened little boy on the unsinged grass, but the child was too scared to pull away. Ginny and Harry tried desperately to peel away the clothing around the boy's burns on his arms and legs, as they conjured soaked bandages to cover them. Once they managed it enough, Harry knelt on the grass beside him, with his arm gently around the boy's shoulders, as Ginny stood anxiously on guard. Terrified, the boy clasped Harry's clothes like a lifeline.

"What's your name?" Harry asked the boy, who appeared to be about five or six years old.

The boy whimpered again, likely still shocked to cry. He peered up at Harry's face under his messy ash blonde hair, furrowing his brows in thought, "Um…Um…My name. Elias. "

Harry tried to offer up a comforting smile to the young boy with intense blue eyes, "Nice to meet you, Elias. My name is Harry. We are going to keep you safe. I promise -"

"- Harry," Ginny watched as another figure ran over to them, with their wand to their side. The woman looked familiar, "- Hey, is that one of the Aurors stationed at Hogwarts?"

Curious, Harry squinted his eyes to get a better look through the smoke emanating from the house. It was one of the female Aurors, with wavy blonde hair. She appeared in her mid-thirties and sporting a slightly torn dark purple dress coat, with some remnants of what was left of the silver sequins along its hem.

"Mr. Potter? Oh, brilliant, you're alright, " The annoyingly perky Auror took a sullen glance at the destroyed house behind them, and back at the little boy huddled with Harry, "Oh dear."

"One person inside didn't make it. I don't know if they were Muggles…" Harry looked worried, "You're one of the Aurors the Minister sent to Hogwarts, yeah?"

She nodded, "Yes, yes. I am Dawn Rheingold. The Minister sent word for a few of those in our squad to investigate. Let me tell you, I didn't expect this. What an absolute mess!"

"Is anyone else hurt?" Ginny asked.

Worried, she bit her lip, "A few of my own have been injured. One dead. However, we did manage to capture two Death Eaters, so there's that."

Harry slowly rose up off the ground, with Elias still clutching tightly to his side. "I have to find my friends. Have you seen any of the other Hogwarts students?"

She shook her head, "I'm afraid not. Well, I didn't really have time to look. Though I did see Professor Flitwick – I think that's his name – Somewhere near the cemetery. It's been chaos since I got here. "She beckoned to them, "Come on, let's get you to safety. We have a make-shift Infirmary already…"

Harry looked at Ginny, as they both followed the Auror down the street. Some persistent tugging by Elias told Harry that he didn't want to walk anymore. So, without further protest, Harry picked up the boy and held him up against his left side as they continued forth. He couldn't have felt more awkward by this point, and he tried his best to avoid the small grin from Ginny beside him.

They passed down several more streets, avoiding stray spells from the duels within their view. Eventually, they spotted Luna running after another Death Eater in the distance, but they were too far away to call out to her. Ginny made a move to run after her, but the Auror blocked her exit, raising her wand as a blockage.

"You must stay close!" Dawn warned Ginny.

Ginny angrily turned to face her, "She needs help!"

"She'll be – "

Within that very second, suddenly a huge deafening blast exploded in front of them, knocking them all several meters off their feet. Harry clutched Elias tightly as they toppled over, and he watched as Ginny flew further behind. A painful ringing in his ear induced a new kind of headache, as pain ravaged through his entire body. The wind entirely knocked out of him, and he became extremely disorientated by what just happened.

Then there was an eerie silence as the world seemed to stand still.

His vision was blurry; He wasn't quite certain if he had simply lost his glasses or he knocked his head somewhere. The pounding in his head was too great, and all of a sudden, a shooting pain hit his right shoulder. Did he land on it? He could barely process anything at this point. His wand…Where was his wand?! Harry groaned as he tried to push himself up. His right arm was incredibly weak, almost feeling like dead weight. His vision was still blurry; He slapped his left hand to his face and realised that he did indeed lose his glasses. He felt around the ground, feeling the jagged edges of glass shards pierce his skin until he felt the familiar hilt of his wand.

YES!

Clasping his wand with relief, he summoned his glasses. Once repaired, he put them back on his face to survey the scene around them.

From what he could see, a few houses in front of them had completely exploded. The force of the blast hit surrounding buildings, enough to knock them all off their feet. Once his vision became clearer, he looked around for Ginny and the little boy he promised to protect. But he could see neither of them.

"Ginny...Elias…" His voice was dry and hoarse. His heart pumped in overdrive, anxious, and worried. Clutching his pained right shoulder, he turned around and squinted behind to see something moving under the rubble. A mass of wavy blonde hair indicated to him that it was the Auror that was with him. But, something about her looked different. He watched as she slowly clambered to her knees, wand shaking beside her, as she eyed the unconscious injured forms of Ginny and Elias close within her vicinity. She seemed oblivious to Harry at this point. But Harry could see both Ginny and Elias, who were still breathing, which caused him to breathe a sigh of relief.

But everything that followed happened so quickly, that Harry barely had a chance to react.

Finally, the Auror looked at Harry with her hazel eyes; an odd gleam of victory and malicious intent that immediately set off alarm bells in Harry's brain. The closer Harry could see, the less the Auror resembled Dawn Rheingold. A breath caught in his throat, as he froze.

Polyjuice potion -

NO!

In a split second, the Auror impersonator picked up little Elias off the ground, disapparated, and reappeared at Ginny's side, only to soon apparate quickly away, leaving Harry shocked to his core as he sat alone.

No. No, no…NO!

Harry sat there, unmoving. Blinking heavily, trying to clear his vision once more. He wasn't entirely sure that he saw it correctly. She took them. The Auror…Or what he thought was the Auror. She took them both. Ginny, and the little boy he intended to keep safe. Slamming down his left fist on the ground in front of him, he let out a scream of frustration.

How could he have been so stupid?!

Once Harry was able to finally pull himself up off his feet, he stumbled over to the spot where Ginny was laying. There on the ground was her wand. He picked it up and twirled it within his hands as if by a miracle, she'd reappear, and all will be okay. Why didn't she take him instead? It could have been easy to kill him then and there, and yet by some twisted intention, she chose to take Ginny and the poor little boy frightened out of his mind. Was she trying to break him? Was that the plan? Laughing at the weakened Chosen One, so consumed by his inner turmoil already, that it'll be more fun to watch him slowly destroy himself? Harry yelled out again and kicked a piece of rubble out of anger.

"HARRY!"

Harry turned around to find Ron and Hermione running towards him, both looking as worse for wear as he was. They appeared to have been caught in the blast as well. But as they arrived by his side, the expression on Harry's face told them that something was horribly wrong.

"Harry, what is it? What happened?" Hermione asked, breathlessly.

Still seething in anger, he clutched tightly over his injured shoulder, "They took her. They bloody took her!"

"Who took who? What are you on about?" Ron asked.

"Ginny, Ron! They bloody took her!"

"Say what?!" Ron's eyes widened in shock, "Who took her?!"

"We were tricked. Ginny and I went to save a kid in a burning house. One of the Aurors from Hogwarts came to our aid, to take us somewhere safe…AH! I'M SO STUPID!" Harry bit his lip, trying to best to contain his anger, but it clearly wasn't working.

Hermione furrowed her brow, shaking her head in disbelief, "But why would she – "

"Polyjuice potion, Hermione. When we got hit by the blast, I saw her face change. But she took Ginny and the kid, and Disapparated. I wasn't able to see her real face."

Ron raised his hand up to his head, "Where on earth are they taking these people?! So what, they are impersonating Aurors now? What's the bet that the ones at Hogwarts aren't the real ones?"

Hermione was devastated, as she clasped her hands to her mouth, "Now we know their reason for the Polyjuice potion. I-I can't believe it…Poor Ginny. Harry, I'm so sorry."

Harry held Ginny's wand up so they could see, "I-I couldn't save her. I know she's alive, but…I couldn't save her. Where do we look now? I don't know where to look -" Harry was clearly losing his mind.

There wasn't another verbal response from either of them, but before Harry could finish, Hermione gathered him up in a comforting embrace. Harry was not thinking straight as he was still trying to process the last five minutes. He simply refused to come to terms with what had just happened. Like Ginny will re-appear any moment, and she'd be unharmed, and probably have a jab at Harry for still waiting around here for her. She was right there, and then like that, she was gone.

But she was alive, right? They wouldn't have taken her if she were dead. And Elias, that poor boy…Harry didn't even know if he had any family left.

Pulling back from the embrace, Harry looked back at his friends, "Anyone else hurt?"

Ron gulped, "Two dead Aurors, according to my dad. Multiple injured. And no one can find Lee Jordan."

"He was fighting alongside Katie Bell just before the explosion hit, " Hermione explained grimly, "She said Professor Snape pulled her out from the rubble. He also helped me subdue a Death Eater - He's here somewhere looking for you, Harry."

Harry's eyes widened, "He shouldn't be here. If he got caught – "

"He's using your Cloak. He must have freaked out when neither of us were at headquarters."

"We did manage to capture a fair few Death Eaters, though. I'll have to ask my dad…" Ron then swore very loudly in a string of profanities that no one else needed to repeat, "…How the hell am I going to tell him about Ginny? He's going to lose it. And mum…" Ron ran his fingers through his hair in disbelief.

Suddenly, Harry felt extremely guilty, "Ron, I'm sorry…"

"Harry, you would have saved her without question. I know you would have. I don't blame you."

"We'll find her, " Hermione reassured, "Harry, please don't blame yourself. That Death Eater caught you both off-guard. I think one tried to take me, too."

Ron snapped a shocked look at Hermione, "Wait, you didn't tell me that?!"

Hermione looked uncomfortable, "He led me away from the fight. If Snape didn't notice, I would have fallen for it too."

"BLIMEY HERMIONE!" Ron was angry.

"Don't get mad at me, Ron! We really have to approach this differently, now, " Hermione exclaimed, "We have to take proper measures, and question absolutely everything. We'll question only the people we know. "

"Which means we can't even trust the Aurors. Great, just what we need, " Harry interjected.

"Also, according to Neville, one of the Carrows were seen here too. He was furious regarding the death of his sister. The Death Eaters are certainly on personal vendettas, so we have to be extra careful."

Harry nodded glumly, "Right, you two go and find the others. I just…there's something I have to do."

"Where are you going?"

"Just…I need some time to process what just happened. I'll see if I can find Snape before he has my head on a pike."

Hermione's face dropped in concern, "…Would you like one of us to stay with you?"

"No…Really. I'm going to see who else needs help. I'll see you later. I'll be fine."

Hermione nodded, "Alright. But Harry, please be careful! We'll meet you back at Grimmauld Place. I might suggest to the others to stop by for an urgent meeting. Please, don't be long."

Harry nodded in agreement as he turned away from his friends and wandered back through the village center. From what he could see, some of the other witches and wizards were beginning the cleanup operation of the damaged buildings. He dreaded seeing the Daily Prophet in the morning. They were right screwed at this point, and at the end of it all, the Death Eaters still got the upper hand. Without a master now, it was free reign. They could kill who they wanted, torture who they wanted, and kidnap who they wanted. They no longer had Voldemort to answer to, and that made them even more dangerous.

Harry passed by the Potter monument on the way through the city center, but he could barely glance up at it without feeling torn up inside. Originally, he wanted to go back to the cemetery and see his parents, but he was still consumed with a wave of seething anger from watching Ginny be taken away from him, that it was probably a bad idea to visit them at this point. He was far too much in shock and disbelief over what had just transpired, that he figured he'd make that a task for another day once it was safe enough.

As Harry wandered past one of the empty cobblestone alleyways looking for any of the fallen, he felt a forceful tug at the front of his shirt, as he was suddenly hauled around and held up against the wall.

"WHAT-"

"-That was absolutely reckless, Potter!"

Well, he found Snape. Or rather, Snape found him. "Hey, let go of me!" Harry felt the invisible force let him go immediately, as he rubbed his chest, "You could have just yelled out!"

"What the BLOODY hell were you thinking?!" Snape lowered the hood of the Invisibility Cloak, revealing his absolutely livid face. The alleyway was dark and unlit, so he could barely see the raven-haired man anyway. Harry's eyes darted down to see that Snape was sporting a tight bandage around his wrist. Anything to distract him from the fury etched on the man's pale face.

Frowning, he finally snapped his gaze back to Snape, "They needed our help, so I went to them! Why is that a problem?! I don't need your bloody permission!"

"I didn't just waste my time trying to find you tonight – "

"- They took Ginny!"

Snape's face fell in mid-speech, "…What?"

"A Death Eater disguised as an Auror. Ginny and I rescued a kid and she…ARGH!" Harry cried out in frustration, clutching his right shoulder as he grimaced in pain, "After the blast, they took them both…"

"…The Polyjuice Potion, " Snape gritted his teeth once he realised, angry at the entire situation, "This is WHY you cannot just run into a battle unprepared, Potter! This could have been avoided!"

"IT'S NOT MY BLOODY FAULT!"

"CALM YOURSELF, POTTER!" Snape pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to steady his own breathing as his adrenaline of the evening amped up. Eventually, his breathing became steady and controlled, and his onyx eyes found the green ones once more, "From now on, you listen to me. Really listen, because any wrong move could get you killed. You are no longer privy to the blood protection of your mother, or the Dark Lord's soul fragment. You are vulnerable like the rest of us, and it is crucial that you listen to my expertise to avoid any further disastrous mishaps."

"Why didn't she just kill me? She had the opportunity to do it – "

"- They want you to suffer, Potter! That is their intention. Killing you now would be far too easy."

Harry stood there in silence, breathing heavily from his outburst. But with every breath, a shot of pain radiated from his shoulder.

Snape seemed to do his best to calm himself, too. He looked at the stressed-out teenager before him and finally adopted his self-controlled neutral expression once more, as he darted to the area the boy was clutching. "Allow me to look at your shoulder."

Harry hesitated, but it was obvious to the man that it was contributing to his distress. Without a word, he nodded breathlessly, as he pulled down the collar of his shirt and jacket to reveal a green and purple bruise across his shoulder. Lighting up his wand with Lumos, they were both able to get a better look. It appeared to be slightly bent at an awkward angle. He watched as Snape carefully prodded the area with his fingers, looking for any further signs of damage. Once the man was satisfied enough with his assessment, he looked back at Harry with a raised eyebrow.

"Partial dislocation. You might want to brace yourself for this one, " Snape extended his other hand and firmly held it up against Harry's opposite shoulder in order to steady him. He slowly raised his ebony wand, and without waiting for another second, muttered a spell under his breath. With a sickening pop and a yell from Harry, his shoulder was set back into place. Snape flourished his wand again, and Harry felt a thin layer of frost coat the extent of his shoulder, immediately cooling the area and providing much-needed relief as it subdued the swelling.

Harry carefully pulled away from Snape, clasping his shoulder, "…Thanks. I didn't know you were that skilled in healing spells."

"As a spy, one needs to be self-sufficient in the field. I am not just a mere Potions teacher, Potter."

"Clearly."

Noticing the worry on Harry's face, Snape lowered his voice with concern, "We'll find her, Potter. But you must take extra care. You are to return to headquarters immediately and wait for me there. I need to do a further sweep of the area for any injured."

"I think Hermione is gathering everyone for a meeting. We need to warn everyone else about what happened."

"A wise decision. Take this as a valuable lesson learned, Potter, and I will see to it that you don't make the same mistakes again. That goes for all of you," Snape crossed his arms over his chest, and stared directly into Harry's gaze, making him feel slightly uncomfortable, "Now go. Before I drag you there myself."

Clenching his jaw, Harry Disapparated away, and reappeared across the road from Grimmauld Place, immediately storming inside the familiarity of its walls. Once he walked through the doors, a chorus of voices yelled out during a heated discussion in the dining room, indicating to Harry that all hell was about to break loose once more. He was in no mood to be dealing with any of it at this point, but he had to face them sooner or later.

As he made his way halfway down the corridor, Molly Weasley was slowly descending the staircase and spotted Harry instantly. Harry's stomach lurched as he noticed her reddened eyes which indicated to him that Molly had been crying.

"Oh, Harry!" Molly approached him in short, but quick steps, and clasped both hands on his shoulders. Harry winced slightly at the contact to his injured shoulder, but that was the least of his worries, "Harry, what happened? Is my Ginny alive? Please, tell me…." She looked distraught.

Harry's cheeks grew hot with shame, "She is. She's alive. I couldn't- Molly, I'm sorry. It all happened so fast; we didn't know…"

"Ron told me," She enveloped Harry in a hug, as she buried her face against his shoulder. Harry succumbed without protest, but after a few moments, they eventually pulled away, "I can't believe it. Arthur is at the Ministry in discussion with Kingsley. I've contacted Minerva, and she has banished the Aurors from Hogwarts for the time being. She couldn't take any chances. She sent for Filius, Pomona, Horace, Rolanda, and Sybill to remain at the school. She couldn't leave it unprotected."

"Has anyone found Lee?"

Molly shook her head, "No, I've not been informed. He's not here. "

Harry extended his hand to the back of his neck, rubbing away the building tension and feeling distressed at the current situation, "We'll find her, Molly. I promise. We'll get her back."

Eyes brimming with tears, Molly nodded sadly. He watched her try and smile, but Harry's heart further broke for her. Eventually, Harry left the Weasley matriarch's side and wandered into the dining room, suddenly faced with a room full of his classmates, like it was an impromptu DA meeting. Scanning the room, they all seemed to be engaged in their own little heated discussions, most likely relaying what they had just dealt with. Harry wasn't sure who had shown up to Godrics Hollow to defend but looking at the injuries they seemed to have sustained, most of them were there, oblivious to him.

Harry stood at the doorway unmoving, watching as everyone was engaged amongst themselves. Much to his relief, they hadn't noticed him there yet. Katie Bell sat nursing a heavily bandaged leg, as she sat beside Seamus Finnigan, chatting. Hannah Abbott was sitting closely beside Neville, as she attended to some of the cuts and bruises on his face – which Harry amusingly observed to be a little more a tender moment. Moving his gaze away from them, he saw the Patil twins together towards the back, sitting in silence. Much to Harry's relief, they appeared unharmed. Harry took notice of George Weasley beside Ron, burying his head in his hands. The disappearance of Ginny would have hit him hard, and so close in time to losing his twin brother Fred, and the sight of his distraught state made Harry's heart drop to his stomach. Hermione was sitting with Luna, with her arms around her shoulder in comfort, while he noticed Angelina Johnson and Susan Bones finally making an appearance since abandoning their coins at the revived DA meeting at Hogwarts. And yet, still no sign of Lee. Or Dean Thomas.

He heard a shuffle of footsteps behind him in the main corridor and turned to see Snape talking with Molly. He didn't catch the verbal exchange as he was so caught up with the crowd in the other room, but Snape seemed to stiffen slightly when he saw Molly rest her hand on his arm in gratitude. Molly nodded tearfully, as she walked away back into the kitchen to keep herself distracted. Snape turned around to find Harry watching him, causing the Gryffindor to withdraw slowly back into the dining room. Frowning at the seemingly harmless eavesdrop, Snape strode directly past Harry and entered the dining room with a cold authority, reminding Harry of being in one of his classes once again.

As soon as Snape entered the room, everyone fell immediately silent, as he made his way to the head of the table, with his arms clasped tightly behind his back. The man scanned the room, eying each individual with a piercing gaze, remarkably without moving his head. Harry slipped into one of the middle seats quietly.

Snape drew in a deep breath as he addressed the room in a stern callousness that Harry thought he wouldn't ever have to see again, "Well, well. I could start off by telling you all how undeniably reckless you all are, but I believe you are already aware of that. Now…" Snape darted his gaze around the room again, frowning upon the realisation of another missing individual, "Where is Mr. Dean Thomas?"

"I took him to St. Mungo's, Professor, " Hannah Abbott spoke timidly, with a hand half-raised, "He had a moderate head injury, and needed overnight care. He'll be okay."

Pursing his lips, he redirected his attention to the rest of the room, as his deep, booming voice resonated amongst them, "In light of the most recent attack at Godrics Hollow, it has come to my attention that a common trait appears painfully absent with you all, as you attempt to advance on an…elusive enemy," Snape clicked his jaw, as he paused, "As it stands, the remaining Death Eaters have utilised Polyjuice potion in an attempt to emulate the identities of Aurors. However few of the Death Eaters were eventually captured, and a few students were also taken. I cannot stress enough the seriousness of this situation. If you intend to leave a battle unscathed, then you do well to heed my upcoming warnings and advice."

Seamus growled, "I didn't come back here for another Defence lesson."

Snape shot an immediate scowl directly at Seamus, "Considering your brawn and no-brain approach, Finnigan, it does not surprise me at the very least that you would choose to dismiss such a lesson that can potentially save a life. Now if you had any measure of common sense left in that noggin of yours, I'd suggest you stay seated and keep your mouth shut," Snape turned his attention back at the rest of the room, "That goes for the rest of you. Merlin help me, as I teach a majority of a room full of Gryffindors about common sense."

With a deep breath, the Potions Master began to pace the room, "From now on, no one goes off into battle by themselves. No matter how dire the situation is, you must remain with a trusted ally at all times. Assemble in pairs, if you must. Play to your strengths. No mindless heroics. Be aware of your surroundings. And question absolutely everything. Do not communicate with someone you do not know, especially now in this case, an Auror. Am I making myself clear?"

"What if an Auror is trying to help us?" Parvati Patil spoke.

Snape stopped to answer, "Trust no one but your own. A Death Eater disguised as an Auror is at an advantage because you likely wouldn't know them. They are purposely taking advantage of your ignorance. Therefore, your questioning is limited. Do not follow them. You must be cautious. They will do anything to bring you down, and they will attempt to separate you in order to do it."

"How are we going to find my sister? And Lee? And everyone else?" Ron interjected, ignoring the cold stare from the man across the room.

Snape leaned forward clasped over a vacant dining room chair, drawing in a shuddering deep breath. Harry could tell instantly that he really didn't want to be here giving everyone a serious pep talk. The man looked tired and weary, and Harry could see the blood seeping through his bandage once again, causing Harry to feel even worse about the new situation they were faced with. The man was ill, and it was already bad enough that he was risking his life out there rounding everyone up like a shepherd herding sheep. They hadn't even begun to find a real solution to Snape's problem, and yet, now they were faced with something even more worrying. If they all didn't start to work properly together again, then the entire group was more than done for. Harry didn't waste his time initially rounding everyone up for it all to crumble, causing people to get injured or missing.

"For now, Mr. Weasley, it is most wise to further focus on the recovery of our injured until we can discuss a viable solution. I can't have you all hobbling after Death Eaters, incapacitated, putting you all further at risk," Snape pinched the bridge of his nose, as he stood up straight once again, "Our numbers are dwindling far too much for you all to take such risks now. This adolescent defense group is more than just a rebellion now. You are a united front. You fought together to defend the school and your allies at the Battle of Hogwarts. Don't allow your strength to falter now. This war isn't over yet until we are working together to make it safer."

There was a pause and a silence in the room, as several others started to nod their heads in understanding.

Luna tilted her head to the side, with an odd smile plastered across her face, "That sounds like something Dumbledore would say," Snape's eyes widened with the remark, looking quite offended, "…Sorry, sir. It's not a bad thing."

"…Too soon, Luna, " Ron whispered.

Harry shifted uncomfortably, as he leaned forward resting his arms on the table in front of him, "What Professor Snape means, is that we need to go about this differently now. If we are to get our loved ones back safely, we need a proper plan. The Death Eaters don't have a leader now, so it's free for all."

"Yeah well, neither do we. Since when do you work with Snape now?" Seamus crossed his arms.

"Since I know he's on our side now, you insensitive git, " Harry snapped, "Stop making this difficult. I'm really not in the mood for you. Besides, you all wanted me to lead the DA back when it started. When I left Hogwarts with Hermione and Ron, Neville took charge. We've had leaders, and still do. Besides, Snape is with us now."

Snape frowned at Harry, as he flared his nostrils in contempt, "Potter, I said I'd oversee, not lead."

"No, but you see. You know the Death Eaters. You can help us coordinate against them. I can't think of anyone else more capable to direct us, than you. We need someone, well…level-headed. Right now, it can't be me, " Harry admitted, "I want nothing more than to go back out there and find them all, but that could do more harm than good for everyone right now."

"Gryffindors, a few Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws, lead by a Slytherin. What can go wrong?" Seamus retorted a little too angrily.

Snape looked oddly triumphant, "Everything, if you don't listen to my advice, Mr. Finnigan."

"I trust Harry's word, " Hermione spoke, as she addressed everyone, "Besides, we need a proper plan. We can't go in blindly next time. I think we've learned that the hard way tonight. We can't afford any more mistakes." She turned to Snape, "I also think it'll be a wonderful idea if you could teach us what you know, Professor. You're right – we are not just a rebellion group anymore. Fighting at Hogwarts made that very clear, and after tonight, we need to learn more than just minor defense."

There was a pause, as everyone looked toward Professor Severus Snape at the front of the room. Harry could see the man wrestling with the decision that they seemed to corner him into. It wasn't a bad idea. In fact, that may have been the best idea that they had at this point. What better opportunity than to be mentored by Snape – Master spy, ex-Death Eater, Portions prodigy, and an expert with the Dark Arts. Not to mention his extensive knowledge of healing and injuries, which makes him the perfect go-to. Well, almost perfect, if he wasn't usually bitter and spiteful.

Eventually, Snape's eyes scanned the room of willing participants once more until his obsidian eyes rested upon Harry's emerald ones. Snape raised his chin slightly, "Very well. Seven years of education, and you all still have so very much more to learn," He turned to the rest of the room, as he crossed his arms over his chest once more, "Go home, and recover…Class dismissed."

Without another word, most of the occupants shuffled out one by one out of the dining room and through the front door. Molly left together with George, leaving Hermione and Ron to stay behind at Grimmauld Place once again. It felt strange without Ginny. The absence of one person, made the entire house seem completely empty without her. The four of them, including Snape, remained behind once everyone left.

Reaching into his pocket, Harry retrieved one of the spare DA coins he had from one of the other students who never reclaimed theirs. He extended his arm out to Snape, revealing the fake Galleon for him to take, "Here. I have the Master coin. Whenever we plan a meeting, I activate it to time and place."

Eyeing the coin with curiosity, Snape gently retrieved it from Harry's hand, observing it. He raised his eyebrow to Harry, "Hmm. So this is how you did it. The Protean Charm? Ingenious."

Harry nodded, "As of recently Hermione added another charm to act as a beacon. By speaking Mitto Auxilium, it will send a charge to the other coins allowing us to Apparate to their location. You're now an honorary member, sir. Saves you giving up the identity of your Patronus -"

"- Harry," Hermione gasped.

Startled, Harry turned to her, "What?"

"I think you just found a way to find Ginny."

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.