Severus Snape had been very surprised by that letter. He had, briefly, toyed with just discarding it, but in the end had decided to see what on earth the boy had to say to him. He had been astounded by the contents, amazed at the sincere tone of the letter and the seemingly genuine thought that had gone in to it.

Then he had been angry – it must be some joke, Potter was probably laughing at him even now, or perhaps hoping for better treatment in class if he pretended to apologise.

Then he was confused.

Snape had dashed off hundreds of scathing replies, angry replies, but hadn’t been able to send any of them. Phrases from the letter kept coming back to him.

I doubt that I could be as strong as you.

He found himself unable to reply with vitriol and scorn if there was any chance that the letter was genuine. He had tried to send a pleasant reply but he found that he could not change his usual sarcastic and loathing tone enough to fulfil the purpose. It shocked him slightly that he could not go more than two sentences without a negative comment about Harry or the boy’s father. So he had left it, tried to ignore the letter and tried not to think about the boy himself.

Now it was the first day, and Potter walked in to breakfast flanked by his faithful followers, Weasley and Granger. The boy looked up at him, and Snape found himself caught by those mesmerising green eyes. He found he couldn’t look away, and the contact was only broken when the Weasley boy nudged Harry and said something to him.

Snape looked down quickly, and then realised that both Dumbledore and Lupin, sitting on either side of him, had noticed the direction of his stares and the lack of his usual scowl that was normally in full force when looking at that particular student. He immediately tried to rectify this by fixing his usual death glare onto his face and fixing it onto the House tables, especially Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. To no avail, unfortunately. The Headmaster’s eyes were twinkling knowingly, whereas the werewolf merely looked puzzled.

Dumbledore smiled, “Worried about Harry, my boy? He does look a little thin, but I’m sure the house elves’ food will soon rectify that, eh?”

“Really, Professor, I have no interest in the eating habits of that blasted boy. He probably just went through some fad and refused the food that his relatives were no doubt stuffing down his face.”

Lupin frowned. “I think you have that wrong, Severus. From the impression I receive from Harry, his relatives don’t like him very much at all.”

Snape scowled at him. “Attention seeking brat, just like his father, and that oaf of a godfather. Proper whiner of a mutt, him…”

Lupin abruptly stood and left the table. Dumbledore’s smile had changed into a disapproving frown and, as always when faced with that look; Snape squirmed a little, feeling like an eleven year old again.

“Now, Severus, that was uncalled for. Both Harry and Remus are still grieving. Please remember that in future.”

Meanwhile, at the Gryffindor table, Harry had been jerked out of his staring competition with the Potions Master by Ron.

“Harry? Why are you looking at him?”

Harry forced a smile. “Nothing, Ron. Don’t worry.”

“Slimy git, that’s what he is.”

Hermione turned on him, “Ron! Don’t call him that!”

Surprisingly, Harry agreed with her. “Yeah. I’m not saying that he’s a nice person, but he doesn’t deserve half of what people say about him. He goes through a lot.” Harry’s eyes clouded over slightly as he remembered his visions where he had seen just exactly how much Snape goes through.

He jerked himself back to the present just to hear Ron proclaim, “I don’t see why you two are defending him. Everyone knows he’s a Death Eater! Just remember what happened last year Harry when you tried to get him to…”

Ron tailed off as Harry suddenly stood, eyes blazing. He knew exactly what Ron was referring to – he was insinuating that Snape had been to blame for Sirius’ death by not acting when Harry had asked for help. Harry completely forgot that he himself had blamed the death of his godfather on Snape for a while himself before he had realised that the guilt could only fall on he himself.

“How dare you say that Ron? He has no blame at all, so don’t you try to pin it on him! Oh, and never call him that again!

He stormed out of the Great Hall, colliding with Remus Lupin in the doorway.

“Harry! Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. You? I haven’t seen you for ages.”

“I know, I’m sorry Harry. Why don’t you come to my quarters for a chat tonight?”

Lupin could see that Harry was upset, but also knew the boy well enough to know that Harry would never tell him now, while standing in public like this. He hadn’t seen Harry all summer because the boy had been forced to stay at his relatives for the entire time as nowhere else was safe enough for him. Grimnauld Place had been a hesitant possibility but Dumbledore had decided it would be better for Harry to be left in peace to grieve without being brought back to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black.

Harry looked slightly hesitant, but agreed anyway.

“Meet me after your last class in my office then, and I’ll show you the way.”

Xoxoxoxoxoxox

Sixth year lessons were hard. However, Harry remembered his promise to himself and struggled to stay alert and attentive throughout Transfiguration and Charms. He was delighted when his mouse turned into a frog on first try. Hermione was amazed, she was used to being the only one who could ever do a spell on the first try.

“Well done Harry! Turning a warm-blooded creature to a cold-blooded is notoriously difficult.”

Professor McGonagall also gave him a rare smile. “Miss Granger is correct, Mr Potter. That was very well done, both of you. 10 points to Gryffindor for each of you.”

Harry smiled in delight. Perhaps there were some advantages to the whole ‘study harder’ thing. He hadn’t managed to do much work over the summer due to being locked up, but he had studied frantically both on the train and last night and was glad to see it was paying off. When the Professor assigned them 16 inches of parchment on the topic for homework however, his good intentions dropped a little.

Potions was… interesting. The last class of the day, Harry was tired and therefore finding it difficult to reign in his temper. Unusually, it wasn’t Snape who was baiting him. The Professor seemed to be ignoring him, although Harry felt those dark eyes on him more than once. His and Hermione’s potion was almost perfect, although Harry admitted to himself with a sigh that it was more due to Hermione’s influence than his own. No matter what he did, he couldn’t seem to understand potions. Snape looked down his long nose at their cauldron when he reached them, but made no comment and swept away. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and Harry did likewise.

It was towards the end of the lesson that the trouble started. Draco Malfoy turned in his seat with a malicious grin.

“So, Potter, not have a good summer? You look as though your favourite pet just died.”

Harry started and dropped too much insect wing powder into the potion. Hermione hastily rectified the mistake, doused the flame under their cauldron and then glared at Draco.

“Leave us alone, Malfoy.”

Harry gritted his teeth. Just ignore him, don’t reply, don’t be affected, that’s what he wants, just ignore him.

Malfoy looked surprised when Harry made no retort,

“Cat got your tongue, Potter? Or was it a dog?”

Harry slammed the vial he had been filling onto the table. He was shaking, but his teeth were clenched together. He looked up angrily, but caught obsidian eyes staring at him. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, regardless of Hermione’s hand on his arm, the bell rang. Ignoring whatever Snape was saying, he turned and fled the room.

Xoxoxoxoxox

When Harry arrived, out of breath and red-faced at Professor Lupin’s office, the door was open but nobody was there. Glad for the moment of privacy, Harry sank down into a chair and laid his forehead on the cool wood of his teacher’s desk. Clenching his teeth he forbade his eyes to let the tears fall. I can’t be weak, I can’t!

He was so engrossed in his battle that he didn’t hear his professor enter, until he felt a hand laid onto his back. A summer of light abuse had ingrained a dislike of touch into him and startled he jumped away, knocking over his chair and rocking the desk as he did, so fierce was his reaction. Harry turned around to see Remus Lupin looking rather surprised.

“I’m sorry Harry; I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Harry blushed. “No, it’s alright; I was just, um, yeah, um startled, that’s all.”

Lupin opened his mouth, then appeared to change his mind. He hesitated then spoke again, “Well, why don’t we go to my quarters. They’re much more comfortable than the office, and I would like for you to know where they are.”

Remus’ rooms weren’t far away and were comfortably decorated in shades of blue and cream. They were pretty simply decorated, but elegantly so. Remus’ had placed pictures and his books and belongings around and so they seemed pleasantly homely. When the teacher noticed Harry’s stunned expression he laughed.

“Yes, they are nice rooms, aren’t they? Come, sit down and have a drink.”

Harry sat on the comfortable sofa and took the pumpkin juice offered to him while Remus sat down opposite him. He didn’t know what to say so he just stared covertly at the older man, who seemed in no hurry to speak.

Eventually, when the silence became slightly tense instead of comfortable, Remus spoke. “Harry, I can’t help noticing that you looked slightly upset, both this morning at breakfast and then later when I arrived at my office. Do you want to talk about it?”

Harry shifted uncomfortably. “I’m alright really. This morning was, well, nothing really, and this afternoon, well, I had Potions, so that’s um, it really.”

“Harry, I know that’s not all, but I understand if you don’t want to talk about it. You must have come out very quickly from potions. Did Professor Snape say anything?”

Harry blushed. “I just, kind of, um, ran when the bell went.” Harry held his breath. Was Lupin going to be upset with him? He wasn’t really used to talking to his Professor that much. “I’m sorry. The bell had gone though, and it was just…”

“I don’t mind, Harry. But it was just what?”

Harry’s voice was quieter now. “Malfoy said something that I didn’t like and I had to either leave or curse him.”

A moment’s hesitation. Harry hadn’t looked up at Remus since they’d started speaking but he could guess that the older man was looking at him, wondering what to say, how far to push.

“I’m glad you took that option Harry. A year ago you would have cursed him.”

Harry fidgeted again.

“Did he say something about your parents?”

Harry tensed. “No, but close enough.” He ducked his head even further and stared at his feet. He shivered slightly. The castle seemed colder this year than before.

Remus voice was slightly hoarse as he asked the next question. “You mean…Sirius?”

Harry felt the grief tighten his throat and he did the only thing he could to stop himself crying. He got angry. Jumping to his feet, he looked up for the first time into Remus’s concerned hazel eyes.

“I thought you said I didn’t have to tell you! What is this - the inquisition? I don’t have to talk to you. I only talk to…”

He broke off, caught by both his own grief at the words he had been about to say and the flash of pain in Lupin’s eyes.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, sitting down again. “I’m sorry.”

Remus came and sat down next to him and Harry resisted moving away. He didn’t like people being too close to him anymore. He couldn’t help drawing back, however, when the Professor lifted a hand as if to place it on his shoulder. He hoped the man would put it down to grief. “Sorry” he mumbled again, ashamed to look up.

“It doesn’t matter, Harry.” Remus’ voice sounded tired and sad.

Harry felt a stab of guilt. He’s hurting too. I shouldn’t push him away.

Taking a deep breath he spoke again. “Malfoy kept making digs about the fact that Sirius died.” Harry was glad when his voice only hitched slightly over the words. “I made a promise to myself that I would try to keep my temper this year. That’s why I ran out of Potions and came straight here instead of hexing Malfoy. At breakfast I was upset because Ron implied that Sirius’ death was Professor Snape’s fault.”

Remus hadn’t made a sound, but now he spoke, his voice rough. “You do know whose fault it was, though, don’t you Harry?”

Harry reared back. I know it’s my fault! Is he going to make me say it out loud? Is this my punishment?

Harry’s throat was tight but he managed to croak. “Of course I know whose fault it is!”

Remus looked puzzled, “Harry, why are you looking like that?”

What do you think? Do you know how guilty I feel?

“Professor, don’t do this to me…”

“Lupin had stood up as well and now reached out a hand to his pupil.

“Harry, I don’t understand.”

Harry’s emotions boiled over; guilt, grief, anger, confusion, sorrow, self-disgust, embarrassment, until he could take it no more.

“Don’t touch me!” He cried “I know it’s my fault, alright, but please, please, don’t do this to me.”

Then he fled, ignoring the cries of his Professor as he ran away. Tears were falling down his cheeks as he exited the corridor, until …

WHAM!

He ran headlong into a solid body.

“Mr Potter!”

Looking up he saw the annoyed visage of the Potions Master. Shocked, he dodged the outstretched arm and carried on running down the corridor. Had he waited, he might have seen the brief flicker of concern that passed over the stern man’s face when he caught sight of the wetness on his pupil’s face.