Harry frowned at the soft blue glow in front of him, drawn to it for reasons he still didn’t understand. Something about the orb called to him, and he could feel a strange power rolling off the orb. He gazed around, finding nothing but darkness, though he could feel there was other stuff around him. He was not in a large empty room and, he realized, he was not alone. He could feel someone on either side of him, but when he looked, it was only black. He couldn’t even make out a vague outline. He even reached out, but his hand passed through nothing, making him frown. He knew someone was there.

The orb pulsed and he looked back at it, distracted immediately from whoever stood next to him. He stared, entranced, at the orb, watching the glow dim just enough for him to see the cloudy blue swirling inside. It was pulling at him, drawing him in, tugging on his magic like the last time. This, whatever it was, belonged to him and he had to have it. Something about it was extraordinarily important, and it connected him to whoever stood next to him.

He found himself distracted from the orb by odd indecipherable muffled sounds from various directions around him. He slowly spun around, trying to see through the impenetrable darkness, to find the sources of the noises. He frowned as he felt something pressing in around him, felt something or many somethings moving around swiftly in the space. He could feel the presences, a mixture of intents, but he could see nothing. There was nothing but muffled sounds he couldn’t place or identify and odd rushing around him. Wherever he was, something was going on and it had to do with him, whoever was beside him still, and the orb.

What felt like a spell flew past his face over his shoulder and he spun, watching it hit the orb in strange horror.

“A bond for the ages…”

He was blinded by the orb’s glow growing, filling the space and forcing him to shield his eyes. Everything and everyone that had been around him disappeared, only to be replaced by the graveyard. The blue glow faded into the flash of green that haunted him and he screamed for Cedric, reaching out for the dead boy. He choked on sobs as he stared into the empty eyes.

“Fight back!” Voldemort shouted.

He fell to the ground, writhing at the fire licking his bones and nerves. He screamed with the agony, hot tears streaking his cheeks. He wanted it to stop, desperate for an end regardless of what that end might be. The curse lifted, leaving him heaving and twitching as he slumped on his front. He had little reprieve, however, as a new rush of pain exploded across his back, drawing yet another cry from him.

“I will have you no longer, freak!” Vernon yelled, cracking the belt across Harry’s back again.

Harry sobbed violently, praying for it to end. He just wanted to be free, to be safe for once in his life. He felt the blood pour from his back and his thoughts grew hazy.

“Help me,” he whispered, the most unexpected face drifting through his mind.

Then it stopped and, instead of blood soaking his clothes, it was frigid, salty water. Realizing the pain had stopped, Harry opened his eyes, blinking against the water spray as he stared at the tall, sharp stone tower that sat on the jagged island across the rough, dark water. He watched as dark shapes he knew to be Dementors swirled in a mass above the prison while thick clouds of black smoke rushed around and through the stone. Every time smoke ripped through the prison, chunks of stone went flying.

It wasn’t long before, even over the crashing of the water and the exploding of stone, he heard the maniacal cheers and laughter of the freed prisoners. Glee filled him and, as more Death Eaters joined the flying smoke, he, too, disappeared from his place of observation and left the destroyed Azkaban behind.

“Potter.”

Severus looked up from his desk at Malfoy’s quiet hiss and watched the blonde point to their text before whispering something Severus couldn’t hear. Potter blinked at what Malfoy was pointing at and gave a small nod, muttering something back to Malfoy. He quickly glanced around the room to ensure there were no issues imminent before looking back at the two boys in front.

They were only two weeks into the year and, already, both Malfoy and Potter looked absolutely exhausted. This wasn’t exactly new. Both had looked exhausted since the first day, but it had clearly worsened. He wasn’t quite sure what could be done considering what he knew was likely causing their sleepless nights and stressful days.

For Malfoy, he’d done all he could already. He’d ensured the boy was taken under the protection of the Council. He’d arranged his classroom to keep those of danger to Malfoy away from the blonde. He’d requested Malfoy’s other professors do the same to the best of their ability. He’d made Zabini the boy’s dormmate and enlisted him to help Malfoy in the common room and in the Great Hall. He encouraged Malfoy to stick with Potter. He was doing his best to keep watch in the corridors. There was truly nothing more he could do to protect Malfoy without risking his position as spy. Leif had to help with his magic and there was nothing he could do if the boy was having nightmares which he very likely was.

As for Potter, he could guess what was exhausting the Gryffindor, but there was even less he could do for Potter. He frowned when he watched Potter grimace and rub his scar somewhat aggressively. Remembering the Azkaban breakout from the previous night—an event he was, thankfully, exempt from, but had appeared in the Prophet that morning—Severus knew the boy must have had a vision. Given that Voldemort had admitted to knowing about their mental connection, he had clearly ensured Potter would see the attack.

Severus sighed, realizing Dumbledore was right—just about this singular thing—and he needed to convince Potter to resume Occlumency. The boy had to be able to protect himself. However, he had to admit, it was unlikely Potter would be willing to work with him again given the discovery of his role with the prophecy.

He sighed again, gazing surreptitiously at the two boys. He would never admit it to anyone, but it had been more difficult to return to Hogwarts and separate himself from the two than he’d anticipated. Why, he wasn’t sure he was willing to acknowledge, but it sat in the back of his mind, waiting.

He resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose and turned to the class. “You should be bottling your potion. Submit your work, clean your stations, and get out,” he said roughly.

He watched, already unimpressed with the results he was seeing considering it was a review potion, as vials were placed on his desk. Most of the students were rushing to clean and flee, but it was not so for the handful to his right. While he was cleaning, Potter had sat heavily on his stool again and his actions were slow. Granger and Weasley were around him, whispering almost frantically. Malfoy was very deliberately taking his time clearing his station while glancing at Potter. Behind Potter and Malfoy, Zabini had joined Adelaide Murton and both had been joined by Daphne Greengrass and Simon Carlisle. They weren’t interacting with Potter or Malfoy in any way, but were also being deliberate in their slow exit.

“Potter, stay behind,” he said, causing all of them to look up at him. “The rest of you, leave already.”

Granger and Weasley gave him a look of trepidation and a glare respectively before muttering to Potter again. He saw Malfoy glance at the Gryffindors, obviously hearing what was being said, before receiving his own look from the Slytherin. He raised an eyebrow at Malfoy, making the blonde drop his head and finally leave his station, the other Slytherins casually following a few moments later.

“Granger, Weasley,” he said harshly. “I told you to get out.”

Weasley glowered at him and was clearly going to say something, but Granger grabbed his arm, stopping him. The girl said something to Potter and then left, dragging Weasley with her. He watched as Potter visibly sighed, massaged his scar again, and got to his feet. The boy grabbed his bag and walked up to stand before him at his desk.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Potter said, surprising Severus. An apology was the last thing he expected to hear.

“What for, Mr. Potter?” Severus asked. He wasn’t aware the boy had anything to apologize for. He certainly didn’t blame Potter for his anger and behaviour in the face of the prophecy reveal. He’d expected worse, honestly, anytime he’d contemplated the possible repercussions if Potter were to discover the prophecy and his connection to the Potters’ deaths.

“My potion,” Potter said, gesturing to the stand full of vials. “I’m sure it’s messed up. I made some mistakes. Malfoy tried to help. I know he wasn’t supposed to, but don’t be angry with him. He probably stopped me from blowing us up.”

Severus had to hold back a smirk, but still arched an eyebrow. “Helping you prevent a crisis instead of causing one?”

Potter looked at him with slight surprise and confusion before his own lips curved into a small smile and he snorted quietly. The green eyes dropped away from Severus, just to his desktop.

“Yeah, suppose so,” Potter said.

“Your potion is not why I asked you to stay, but if you are concerned about it,” Severus said and he reached out, plucking the vial with Potter’s name on it out of the stand.

As he held it up to examine visually, he saw Potter look at him again, green eyes flicking between him and the potion nervously. He himself was surprised to see Potter apparently cared about his performance in Potions. It certainly hadn’t been the case in past years, or he’d simply never given Potter the ability to care with his treatment. Perhaps his resolve to ignore Potter in class and the castle to the best of his ability was the best course of action after all, no matter any unnamed personal feelings. After several seconds, he replaced the vial and looked at Potter.

“Yours is more of a deep green rather than turquoise. You likely over stirred after the first six drops of salamander blood and you forgot the mint,” Severus said and Potter blinked at him, clearly not expecting the feedback. “It will lack effectiveness, but, considering the past instances in which you brewed this potion, this is your most successful attempt.”

Severus couldn’t stop his smirk this time as Potter gaped at him. He allowed Potter to wrestle with the feedback before leaning on his desk and clasping his hands.

“I assume your distraction is due to inadequate sleep,” he said and Potter immediately dropped his eyes to the floor, his face tightening. “I assume you had a vision of the Azkaban attack?”

Potter gave him a small glare. “It’s really not your concern, Professor.”

“It is when it is impacting your ability to complete my class to the proper standards,” Severus said.

“I’ve never done that.”

“Not because you were incapable as you proved this summer.”

“I don’t want to talk about the summer.”

“Fine, but you will tell me if you are still having visions and nightmares, and why you were rubbing your scar,” Severus said, annoyed with Potter’s stubbornness.

Potter’s glare intensified. “Yes, I’m having visions, okay? The dreams about the door stopped, but the visions haven’t. My scar has been burning and prickling while I’m awake. It doesn’t stop for long anymore. Satisfied?”

“Potter, do you recall the vision you had that final night?” Severus said, hoping to convince Potter more easily to continue Occlumency.

“Of course I do,” Potter snapped.

“Do you recall what the Dark Lord requested of me?” Severus asked, walking Potter to the point.

“He wants you to make me get the prophecy,” Potter said stiffly, clearly unhappy to be reminded of the accursed prophecy.

“Because?” Severus prodded.

Potter’s eyebrows furrowed slightly as he remembered. “He can’t send me dreams anymore?” The Gryffindor sighed and deflated slightly. “He knows about the connection.”

“Precisely,” Severus said. “As such, I believe it would be prudent to resume Occlumency.”

Potter’s glare returned. “Guilt setting in again?”

Severus’ eyes narrowed at the jab. He understood the boy’s anger, but the clear hatred from the boy felt different than it once did.

“I’m not doing a thing with you, especially not on Dumbledore’s orders,” Potter said. “I will not be a part of your redemption for killing my parents.”

“Potter, the headmaster is not involved in this,” Severus said. “This is to protect you.”

“From the thing you caused,” Potter said. “Do not pretend this is about me. It’s never been about me, none of it!”

“It’s always been about you, you foolish child,” Severus said, feeling frustrated.

“Really? Was it about me when you treated me like I was nothing? When you ‘protected’ me from the threat you caused? When I was forced on you this summer and you pretended things were different?” Potter said. “Was it about me when all of it was a lie?”

“It was not a lie.”

“It was!” Potter shouted. “It was all to make you feel better and because Dumbledore ordered it. You pretended and you lied! You didn’t want to help me! You didn’t like me or care! You’re just like everyone else! You don’t care and you never did!”

Severus had to stop himself from shifting uncomfortably under the accusations as they brought up a deep truth that was in complete opposition to the boy's words. “Potter, our relationship is irrelevant to the issue at hand.”

“Maybe to you,” Potter said. “Like I said, Professor, this is not about me and I refuse to be a part of your ‘terms’. I’m not James and I’m not Lily. I’m me and I thought you were starting to see that, but I was wrong. I’m a means to your end, just like everyone else. Besides, Occlumency requires trust, right? Well, I no longer trust you.”

“Implying that you did?”

“Yes, you bastard, until I realized everything was a lie!” Potter said angrily, his eyes seeming to be teary now. “I hated you, but I thought I could trust you never to lie to me, but you did. All this time, you lied. So, no, I don’t trust you anymore and I will not do Occlumency with you.”

Potter turned and stormed across the room, hand on the door handle when Severus called out.

“Potter, I ask you to reconsider,” Severus said. “I regret everything I have done, but I have not lied to you. Everything I have done since that night has been for you and I am willing to explain should you be willing to listen.”

Severus gazed at Potter’s back when the boy remained stiffly silent.

“You are not the only one disappointed about the end of summer. It was not a lie, nor was I pretending,” Severus admitted. “If you change your mind, meet me in my office Tuesday after dinner.”

“Don’t count on it,” Potter said and left the classroom.

“Harry?”

Harry turned from where he’d been leaning on the railing of the Astronomy Tower’s observation platform at the voice to find Leif watching him, his loose strands of hair and blue long coat blowing in the slight breeze. The immortal seemed casual, but he could also see curiosity and concern in the light green, slightly stern eyes. He realized he hadn’t seen or spoken with Leif much in the two weeks they’d been back at Hogwarts and recognized how much he’d actually missed the man. He was a calming presence that Harry found himself lacking since leaving Prince Manor.

He turned back around to continue watching the sinking sun as Leif quietly joined him, leaning his own forearms on the railing and lacing his fingers. They stood in silence for a time, something he’d always appreciated in those he shared his summer with.

“I don’t know what to do,” Harry said eventually, neither of them pulling their gazes from the horizon. Despite this, he knew Leif was listening and knew what he was talking about. “How could he do it?”

“I don’t know, but we have all done terrible things,” Leif said. “He was a far different person then. We all were in our past.”

“Can someone change that much?” Harry asked, wondering what it was that Leif had done in his past that was apparently so awful.

“I believe so,” Leif said. “I have seen it, experienced it, and so have you. It is why you are struggling.”

Harry finally moved his eyes to the man though Leif did not return the look.

“He knows well what he did, what he caused,” Leif said in an almost faraway voice that made Harry think the man was talking about more than just Snape and the prophecy. “I truly do not believe anyone can punish him for it more than he can himself.”

“He should be punished,” Harry said.

“And that is why he does all that he does,” Leif said. “He believes his life is forfeit because of what he did, has been convinced nothing he does will ever be enough.”

Harry frowned, conflicted. “I mean, he shouldn’t die. He still deserves to live.”

“I wish I could make him believe that,” Leif said. “He believes protecting you is the only reason for his life. He has nothing else to live for.”

Harry looked at Leif again, appalled at the sentiment. “That can’t be true. What about you and Alexei?”

“We only returned to his life this summer and we each had quite the spectacular fight with him in Italy,” Leif said and finally met Harry’s gaze, his own sad. “He has had a very lonely life, paidí. I know you don’t believe it, but I do believe you and Draco began to make a difference in his life this summer.”

“Then why did he go back to normal so easily? Why did he just leave it…us behind?”

“Did he?”

Harry went to respond, but snapped his mouth shut as he thought about the last couple weeks. He’d been fairly busy and distracted with classes and Umbridge and nightmares, and so hadn’t paid Snape much attention. However, now that he was focusing, he realized things weren’t exactly as they were. Snape had given him that Muggle book and money for on the train, had clearly helped Malfoy, had helped Harry get into Ancient Runes. Snape had been ignoring him as much as possible rather than yelling, insulting, and assigning detentions. He’d even given Harry legitimate feedback and praise on his review Wiggenweld Potion. He also remembered the man’s comment on Friday about being disappointed summer had ended.

“If he cares or whatever, why is he listening to Dumbledore and making us stay away?” Harry asked.

“There is a danger for all of you if you were to openly change your relationship for the positive. As much as I despise it, Severus is a spy and cannot be seen with either of you,” Leif said. “As for Dumbledore, you do not understand the power he holds over Severus.”

“Why?”

“Many reasons, not the least of which being that Alexei and I left him,” Leif said. “Perhaps we could have lessened Dumbledore’s hold if we had stayed in his life. Without us, Severus truly had no one except for Dumbledore. A regret we must live with.”

“There seems to be a lot of that,” Harry said with a sigh. “Regret.”

“Yes,” Leif said. “And some will do anything to try and live with theirs.”

“Is that what he’s doing? Trying to live with it, not fix it?”

“A mix, I believe. He wishes more than anything to undo what he did and spying, helping you, is the only way he knows how to cope,” Leif said. “He’s never known of another way, though Alexei and I have tried to make him see another, a way birthed by this summer.”

“You think he actually cares about me and Malfoy?”

“If he allowed himself, you would hardly believe the heart that exists within him. He’s had to bury it deep all his life,” Leif said. “If you all allowed yourselves, I think you would be surprised at what could exist between you.”

“The Life Bond and our magic?”

“Not just.”

Harry sighed.

“Everyone deserves a second chance, don’t you think?” Leif said lightly.

Harry looked at Leif, feeling warm at the gentle expression and the light hand on the back of his head.

“You are all but lost boys, hurt by many,” Leif said softly. “You can be what each other needs if you can see past your wrongs.”

Leif smiled at him and dropped his hand to Harry’s shoulder, squeezing, before leaving Harry at the tower’s edge. Harry watched the immortal disappear down the stairs before looking back out at the now dark grounds, mulling over Leif’s words. He couldn’t say they had necessarily helped so much as they added additional layers of confusion. He supposed he had another side, another perspective, as Alexei had told him to find and consider.

His scar prickled and his hand went to it automatically, trying to rub the irritation away. As he brought his hand down, he glanced at his watch.

An hour after dinner.

He left the observation platform and walked quickly through the castle, making his way to the dungeons. He quietly cursed himself for putting himself so far from the dungeons, finding himself honestly winded by the time he stood outside Snape’s office door. He took a moment to catch his breath and contemplate his decision before knocking on the door, not wanting to change his mind now he was there.

“Enter.”

Harry pushed the door open just enough to slip in, leaning against it as it closed behind him. Snape was sitting at his desk, writing on parchments Harry assumed were assignments. He didn’t have to wait long for Snape to look up at him and was positive he saw surprise in the man’s face.

“You didn’t actually specify a time, so hope I’m not too early or too late,” Harry said, somewhat awkwardly as he tried to hold back his mess of emotions that rose in Snape’s presence.

Snape seemed to take another moment to comprehend before schooling his features and waving Harry to come closer. As Harry did, Snape circled his desk and pulled one of the chairs out to arrange similar to when they did Occlumency at Prince Manor. Harry sat and watched Snape lean on the desk, arms over his chest.

“I must admit, I did not expect you,” Snape said.

“I didn’t either, honestly,” Harry said. “I’m still not sure. I’m still angry and I don’t know what to think about you, or feel, but Voldemort running free in my head seems more important.”

Snape’s lips twitched. “Yes, I would have to agree.”

Harry felt it, then, an ease on his magic he hadn’t even realized he needed. It was as though his Elemental Magic had been tightly coiled and was now being released to float on the air, Snape’s magic wrapping around it. He was overcome with peace and comfort, and his magic felt stable and strong. He knew what Snape’s magic was to his, had had it explained by Alexei, and knew all he was feeling was the product of that summer, the summer they were told to forget so they refused to acknowledge. What could things be like if they accepted each other regardless of what others believed or ordered? What could they be? What did Leif see that they didn’t?

“What’s happened to your hand?”

Harry blinked, pulled from his thoughts, and looked down, remembering the bandage perpetually wrapped around his left hand concealing what Umbridge had been doing to him since day one. Just over two weeks and, already, the words carved into his hand with the strange, sadistic quill were hardly fading anymore.

I must not tell lies.

It had been quite the task to hide the injury from Alexei, given the vampire’s sense of smell, particularly for blood. Umbridge was ruthless, giving him detention even when he honestly hadn’t done anything. Two weeks and he’d had detention with her for more than half that time.

“It’s nothing,” Harry lied, unwilling to let Umbridge believe she’d managed to break him in any way. “Just got scratched in Care of Magical Creatures. Bowtruckle.”

“Would you like me to heal it?”

Harry shook his head. “No, it’s fine, sir.”

“Very well,” Snape said and Harry was thrilled to have the man let something go for once. “Now, shall I assume you have not been practicing since our lessons came to an end?”

“I have honestly tried to Occlude a few times, but, yeah, that’s a fairly safe assumption,” Harry said. He knew Snape’s slightly upturned lips were a sign of amusement.

“You remember the breakthrough you had in that final lesson?” Snape asked.

Harry nodded. “I used my Elemental Magic.”

“Correct,” Snape said. “We will continue with the method. It had been draining and we will consult Alexei if that continues to be an issue. Ready yourself, Mr. Potter.”

Harry nodded and closed his eyes to try and calm himself as he began to tense. He still wasn’t completely comfortable doing this with Snape, still hovering in the limbo of his feelings towards the man and his connection to Harry’s tragic life. He’d told the truth that his trust in the professor was gone, but he was also trying to keep in mind what Leif and Alexei had told him, and what he’d experienced those seven weeks. He couldn’t dismiss Snape from his life completely and he wasn’t sure he wanted to do so anyway, not anymore.

So, he tried to forget his anger and hurt for the time, and focused on what he’d done in that last summer lesson. He was much farther along in his Elemental training than he was then which made it easier to focus it for this purpose. He gathered his Fire and Air Magic, finding it more than ready to do as directed with Snape’s magic there to keep him grounded. He opened his eyes.

“Ready?” Snape said and Harry nodded, nervous still as the man raised his wand. “Legilimens.”

Into Harry’s mind they went, his memories flying around. He already felt Snape prodding and did his best to keep his memories moving. He instantly began panicking when memories started to be pulled from the flow, each being tossed aside before it could even start playing. After a handful of discarded memories, Snape finally plucked one of more importance and his training session with Alexei the previous day began to play.

It still took longer than it should for Harry to gather himself and engulf the memory in flames, blocking it from view, before pushing his Air Magic at it to send it far away.

It took a moment for Snape to resume his search. Harry tried to use his Air Magic to make his memories move too fast for Snape to see, but it didn’t work, and he was re-watching his odd dream about the glowing orb. He threw his Fire Magic at it once again and blew it away. When the memory was gone, he focused on Snape’s presence and cast a strong wind, throwing the man from his mind.

He gasped once they returned to the real world, cringing at the pain already pulsing in his skull. He looked up and found Snape straightening, obviously having stumbled from the force of Harry’s ejection.

“There is still a significant delay between me finding a memory and you responding,” Snape said. “However, once you do respond, your Fire Magic is quite effective.”

“A second compliment, Professor?” Harry said, remembering the compliment from the summer while nearly forgetting they were at Hogwarts and still immersed in issues.

“Dazed from your Air Magic ejection, I assure you,” Snape said and Harry had to physically hold back a grin.

“Of course,” Harry said with just a slight curve to his mouth.

“Are you feeling drained?” Snape asked.

Harry shook his head.

“Very good. Again then,” Snape said and raised his wand, not giving Harry much time to prepare. “Legilimens.”

Harry decided to try something else this time and created a huge whirlpool, watching the water swirl quickly. He engulfed his memories in the water, allowing them to get caught in the current, spinning around and around in the water. He felt Snape search, reaching for memories only to have them slip away deeper into the water. He was thrilled his experiment had worked, until Snape managed to rip a memory from the whirlpool. Just like before, he got caught up watching Snape comfort him at Prince Manor for several seconds before throwing fire at it and blowing it back into the water. He didn’t have to throw Snape out that time; the man withdrew on his own.

The pain in his head grew and Harry couldn’t help his quiet groan in response. He also felt himself slump in the chair, suddenly physically exhausted. He cracked his eyes open when he felt a touch to his shoulder and found Snape holding out a vial with a very familiar liquid. He took it and downed it quickly, glad it was a normal headache and did not require Snape’s special version. The pain disappeared relatively quickly and he was left with just his exhaustion.

“Drained?”

Harry nodded slightly.

“You used more magic that time,” Snape said. “While effective, not ideal until you have better endurance.”

“I know,” Harry said. “Just wanted to try.” He watched as Snape pulled over the other chair and sat in front of him.

“I believe it did open up another method for your Occlumency,” Snape said and Harry looked at him curiously. “A total block may be more effective and beneficial for you.”

“I thought Occlumency was about redirection?” Harry said.

“Typically,” Snape said and Harry scowled half-heartedly at the man’s very pointed raised eyebrow, clearly implying Harry was, as usual, anything but typical. “It would seem that is not the way for you.”

Harry huffed. “Okay, so what do I do then?”

“That will be enough for this lesson,” Snape said. “However, when you go to sleep tonight, I want you to try and create a wall of sorts in your mind using an element and put all your thoughts and memories behind it.”

“How will I know if I get it right? “Harry asked.

“Have you been having nightmares every night?” Snape asked.

Harry tensed and cast his eyes down, flushing and nodding.

“If you are free of nightmares tonight, you will know,” Snape said. “That’s all for tonight. Up to your tower, Mr. Potter. We will meet again on Thursday at the same time.”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said and he heaved himself out of the chair. He crossed the office, stopping with his hand on the handle and he turned around. Snape was returning the chairs to their place and circled the desk to sit behind it once again. “Professor?” he said once Snape was sitting.

Snape looked up. “Yes, Mr. Potter?”

Harry chewed his lip, debating his question. “Am I a replacement for them because of…what you did?”

Snape stared at him for a long while, eyes unreadable. “Once, yes, you were. Now, however, I believe I am beginning to see just you.”

“Do you hate me for me too?”

Another long stare.

“No, Mr. Potter, I do not.”

Unsure if the small conversation helped settle anything in his mind, Harry just nodded and left the office. He hurried up to Gryffindor Tower, happy to avoid running into Umbridge for once, and headed immediately to his dorm. The other boys were either asleep already or down in the common room, allowing him to crawl into bed without interruption. He stared up at his canopy and, for some time, let his thoughts run.

It had been a strange interaction with Snape, far more reminiscent of how it’d been at Prince Manor, which just made it confusing. Snape had seemed to agree with Dumbledore’s order that they all pretended nothing had changed between them, which had made Harry believe it had all been fake. Now, though, he wasn’t so sure. Snape hadn’t gone completely back to normal and they’d gotten through an Occlumency lesson with virtually no issue. Snape hadn’t even gotten angry when Harry threw him out with Air Magic. He was trying to see where redemption played into anything Snape was doing, but he just couldn’t see it. He was no longer sure Snape was just using him or doing what Dumbledore told him, and it was making everything confusing.

Sufficiently frustrated, Harry decided to do as Snape had instructed. He got more comfortable under his blanket and closed his eyes. He could feel his thoughts still racing, desperate to come forward and be considered. He pushed them back and, instead, put all of his focus on imagining a wall of fire. He thought of nothing else except adding details to the flickering orange flames dancing behind his eyelids. As he built the wall of fire, he didn’t even realize he was drifting off.