Harry was sitting on the end of his bed at the Dursleys' when a familiar flash of fire caught his attention. Turning his head, he saw Fawkes perched on the desk in his room. He stood up and went to the familiar bird.

"What do you have there?" he questioned, as he noticed a scroll in the Phoenix's talons. He took the scroll, and nearly dropped it as the bird burst into flames and disappeared once more.

Slowly, he unrolled the parchment, and drew in a sharp breath as he recognized Dumbledore's handwriting.

Dear Harry,

I must first tell you how much I regret leaving you a message in this manner. I'm sorry for leaving you, but I knew what was to come. First, do not hold anything, yes ANYTHING, against either Professor Snape or Draco Malfoy. Professor Snape did nothing I did not ask him to do, and Mr. Malfoy, I pray, is not beyond hope.

Ever since I put the Horcrux on my finger, I have been dying. I did my best to give you all of the information you need, but I'm afraid I failed. Remember your last promise to me...to obey everything I say...this is my last order to you, Trust Professor Snape, in the end; he will be able to teach you what I could not.

I trust you, Harry.

Harry stared at the parchment in his hands...knowing that he must, even if he didn't know how, follow Dumbledore's last command.

He slowly sank back down on his bed. He saw Snape kill Dumbledore. He saw the look of sheer loathing the man had on his face. You can't cast an Unforgivable unless you mean it, a voice whispered in his head.

He looked over the letter one last time, folded it carefully and placed it in his pocket. He would keep it from Ron and Hermione--for now.

His birthday would be in a month...then he was gone from the Dursleys' for good. He padded down the stairs and found his friends sitting at the table talking to each other.

He spoke up. "You guys, we need to start talking...and planning." They looked up at him, and nodded. He pulled up a chair, and gave some parchment to Hermione. "Hermione, can you write this down?"

Hermione quietly consented.

"We need to learn more. I think after the wedding, we should contact Remus and McGonagall. We're still not ready to go head to head with Voldemort, and they can help teach us. I also think we should work before then on learning wordless magic."

Ron balked. "Harry! I thought we were taking a break from school...at least, I mean, you said we aren't going back to Hogwarts..."

Harry cut him off, "Ron, we have to learn it in order to fight. The Death Eaters have years on us when it comes to working magic-both light and dark. The only way we're going to win is by keeping our mouths shut..." and our minds closed, his memory finished. "I also think I need to learn Occlumency," he whispered.

"I think I might be able to find a book that can help you with that, Harry, but I don't think you can learn it sufficiently without a Legilimens around to help; maybe you can ask McGonagall about that."

"I only know of three; one's dead, and the other two I'm not about to approach," he gloomily replied.

They sat in silence, each fidgeting a bit before Dudley crashed through door. His eyes opened wide, and he squeaked as he saw the three wizards sitting at the table. Never removing his eyes from the three, he slowly backed out of the kitchen.

Ron suppressed a laugh. "When is that Muggle cousin of yours going to figure out that we aren't going to hex him if he comes in here for a bite to eat?"

Pulled out of his reverie, Harry smiled. "I don't know, it may not be a bad thing...this is the first summer I think he may actually lose weight."

"Harry, anything else you can think of for the 'To Do' list? I think I'll make a trip to Diagon Alley for some books we can look at," said Hermione, tapping the parchment in front of her.

Ron stood up. "Not alone you're not. Besides, I think we could have some fun at the twins' place. I'm sure they've got loads of stuff for an unsuspecting Muggle...or three."

Hermione shot him a look, shook her head, and sighed. "Will you be alright here alone for awhile, Harry?"

Harry nodded and grinned. "Yeah, I think I'll be fine." He fingered the folded piece of parchment in his pocket as he watched them leave the house.

"Blocked again and again and again until you learn to keep your mouth shut and your mind closed, Potter," Snape's voice taunted him.

Harry trudged back up the stairs and into his room. Even then, Snape was teaching me, Harry thought, while he was slicing me apart. He paused for a bit while he sat heavily on his bed, going over the events of that night in his mind. No, he didn't do that until later...then he was just blocking me... I was the one attacking. I was attacking because he killed Dumbledore! Dumbledore pleaded. The only time Dumbledore had ever plead before was when...

Harry was sharply reminded of Dumbledore in the cave. Moaning in pain and fear as Harry tipped one glass after another down his throat, hating himself more and more for hurting his mentor in that way. Hating...nothing compared to the hatred and revulsion Snape had on his face as he killed Dumbledore. He KILLED Dumbledore. And then he taunted... taught... me.

Harry looked at the parchment again, knowing that he had to do this. He had to trust Snape, just like he had to get the memory from Slughorn. Whatever it took. But they had been fighting. I have no reason to trust Snape, after all this time; for six years, all he's done is made my life hell. All over a hatred of my father! He did everything he could to hurt me! He took Remus from me...he KEPT Sirius from me. He Legilimized me until I couldn't think. He did everything he could to make those lessons fail. I have no reason to trust Snape!

Harry was pacing the floor, running his hands through his hair, finally sinking to the floor with his head resting in the heel of his hand. He saved my life...in first year, on the Quidditch pitch. In third year, from Remus, and he thought from Sirius. And he wasn't the only one trying to make those lessons fail. I HAVE NO REASON TO TRUST SNAPE! Once again, his fingers found the note in his pocket. Except that Dumbledore says I must.

"Master." Severus bowed low before Voldemort.

"Severus. You brought the boy?"

"I did, my lord."

"He has proven himself unworthy; he could not complete the task I assigned him."

"My Lord, he would have, had I not come upon him at the last minute. In my haste to see the job completed, I did not give him the chance. Draco had already weakened Dumbledore. How else would I have been able to defeat him with one blow?"

"Is what you say the truth, Severus? The other witnesses feel that he would not have."

"But of course, My Lord. I could never lie to you." Severus looked him straight in the eye.

Voldemort smiled. "Of course, Severus, of course. You realize that your disobedience will not go unpunished."

He closed his eyes and bit his tongue to keep from screaming through the Cruciatus.

******

Severus stood in his laboratory looking over a cauldron.

"Professor Snape? Can I help you?" a tentative voice came from the doorway.

"You may; if you cease using that name, I'm no longer your professor."

"Sorry, Severus." Draco came into the room and grabbed a knife, as Snape pointed him to a jar of something sluglike that needed slicing.

Draco hadn't spoken much since they had arrived at Spinner's End, and Severus was starting to get worried. The boy had never been known as the silent type.

"Draco, is there anything you need to talk about?"

"I...thank you."

"Whatever for?"

"You saved my life...from The Dark Lord. I could have died, and you...you saved me."

"I did nothing more than you deserved. The Dark Lord was asking too much from you. You are, after all, just a seventeen-year-old boy-- and barely at that, marked or no, you were not prepared to kill one of the greatest wizards of our time."

"One of?"

"Of course. Surely you don't think that he was greater than The Dark Lord himself?"

Draco looked down at his slugs. "No. I just...thank you," he added quietly.

“Mr. Malfoy … Draco … at this point in your life, you are many things. However, I do not think you wish to add ‘murderer’ to your resume.”

Draco put down the knife, and stared straight at Severus. "How often do you openly question The Dark Lord in this way?"

Severus almost winced, remembering his bout with the Cruciatus. "How often do you openly question me in this way?" he asked dangerously.

Draco had the decency to look cowed. "Sorry, sir...I...I think I'll go now," he whispered, and he scrambled from the room.

Severus stared at the door Draco just went through, shook his head, and sat heavily on a stool. Albus, I had you to turn to. Draco has no one... I cannot help him, I am NOT you. Just then smoke reached his nose, and he turned to see Fawkes sitting at his workstation. Running my life from beyond the grave now, Albus? he thought, as he took the scroll from the Phoenix.

The second it was gone, Fawkes disappeared in a burst of flame, and Severus opened the letter.

Dear Severus,

I only hope that it was indeed you who ended my life in the end. I do not wish for Draco to have that on his shoulders as well. I feel that I must apologize for putting it on yours. Severus, I have watched you grow from an abused, if brilliant, child to an abused, if brilliant, man. You did what you had to do to survive, from day one, and in the end, it led you to turn to the one thing I dreaded.

You always had a determination; a thirst for knowledge, that I was afraid could never be satisfied in dealing within the laws of the Wizarding World. However, in a school as large as Hogwarts, the Headmaster cannot devote all the time he wishes to all his students. Alas, my lack of attention to you did indeed turn you down the Dark path. I cannot tell you how delighted I was when you came back to me. In the end, I still think I failed. It should never have come to the final decision you had to make, and nothing I say or do can make it up to you.

Dear boy, you must teach Harry. You must teach him everything he has yet to know. Draco, as well. More than his life and their lives are at stake. The fate of the world rests on Harry's shoulders. He is indeed, The Chosen One, and you MUST earn his trust. I trust you to do what needs to be done.

Farewell, good friend.

Severus's hands shook as he looked at the piece of parchment in his hand. He had an almost uncontrollable urge to hex something. He took a deep breath and steadied himself within a few seconds as only a skilled Occlumens can do. Albus, you know not which you ask. After the other night, I doubt he will trust me as far as he can throw me.

He felt a headache starting behind his eyes, and he rubbed the bridge of his nose. How does one earn trust through mutual hatred? he pondered. He stood and went over to his shelves, grabbing a bottle of headache draught and downing it in one gulp. And where do I start with Draco? He is marked, there is only so far one can go back from that point. I should know. He rubbed his forearm absently, as an idea came to him.

"Wormtail! Draco! I need you to come to my lab, now!" he called through the door.

Two figures appeared shortly thereafter. Severus said, "I must speak to The Dark Lord. Do not allow anyone into the house in my absence. If I find anyone has been here, you will be severely punished. Do I make myself clear?" They nodded hastily. "Good, then I am off." He Disapparated before Draco and Wormtail could question him.

He made his way into The Dark Lord's lair, and bowed as low and gracefully as he could. "My Lord, I have a perfect opportunity for you to remind blood traitors where they stand...and perhaps get Harry Potter in the process."

"Speak, Severus, I will be the one who determines how perfect it is."

"Yes, Master. The oldest Weasley boy will be marrying this summer. They are to be wed at the Weasleys' residence, and Potter will surely be at the ceremony and reception--without much protection."

"Severus, why have you not told me of this before?"

"I sincerely apologize, my lord; in the wake of Dumbledore's death, I had completely forgotten about it. I came the minute I remembered." He braced himself for another round of Cruciatus, and looked up, stunned, when he heard a deep laughter above him.

"Yes, Severus, I can see how that could trump any thoughts of weddings. Very good, Severus, very good."

Petunia's scream drew Harry out of his room and down the stairs as fast as he could go. He found her in the kitchen with Hermione trying to calm her down, as a large brown owl attacked Ron any time he got too close. It wasn't until Ron finally stopped going towards the thing that Harry noticed it had a package.

"Find out what it has," Hermione hissed at Harry.

He approached the owl, and was shocked when it let him take the package, which was clearly addressed to him. As soon as he had it, the bird flew out the window that it apparently came in.

Harry had started to open the package when Hermione grabbed it from him. She yelped and dropped the package. "It shocked me!" she cried.

"I get the feeling that I am the one it wants," Harry said, gesturing towards the open window.

"Harry, you can't just open it! What if it's cursed?"

Ron nodded his head in agreement.

Harry placed it on the table, while Petunia watched the scene in amazement. "I don't think anything cursed could get to me here, at least not until I come of age. Hermione, can you run a Dark Art's detection spell on it?"

Hermione took out her wand, and waved it over the box. She gasped in surprise as a pale blue smoke rose up from the package. "I don't think it's supposed to do that!" she said in surprise.

"No! Look!" Ron pointed to the smoke, which was quite clearly becoming words:

TO: Harry Potter

FROM: Minerva McGonagall

Open Immediately

Harry quickly grabbed the package and started to open it again.

"Harry, really, that could be from anyone..."

"Hermione, did you find any curses or hexes on it other than the ones keeping you from opening it?"

"Well...no, but that doesn't mean..."

"I'm not going to be so paranoid as to not open my own mail. This could be important," he said as he tore the package open.

Inside was a blank piece of parchment, a red quill, a letter, and a coin that looked almost like a sickle. He picked up the letter, and sighed in relief as he recognized McGonagall's handwriting. He read the letter aloud to his friends

"Mr. Potter,

I feel we have some things that need to be discussed as soon as possible. I have included a sheet of communication parchment and quill. At exactly nine p.m. I will contact you. Be prepared to answer a question only you would know; in turn, be prepared to ask one that only I would know.

Sincerely,

Headmistress Minerva McGonagall"

Ron had picked up the blank parchment and quill and was holding them with more reverence than he had when he first saw Harry's invisibility cloak. "Harry, do you know what this is worth? The spell used to make it was lost over two hundred years ago. No wonder it was hexed to zap anyone but you!"

"What's it do exactly?" Harry was curious.

"Communication parchment writes on two parchments at once. It only works with that quill, so don't lose it. You write on that one, and another one that McGonagall has will show what you write as you write it. It's really ingenious. However, both people need to be at the parchment, because the writing disappears after a few minutes," Hermione explained while examining the parchment. "I never thought I'd actually get to see some." But Harry was already trying to think of something to ask McGonagall.

As nine o'clock neared, Harry kept looking at the parchment. Ron and Hermione were sitting on his bed together talking in hushed tones. "Come over here; she's writing," he said as he saw words appear. The two rushed over and read over his shoulder.

Mr. Potter?

Yes.

Good. Just to be sure... Who did I get out of class for you during your first year?

Harry thought back to that day and smiled.

Oliver Wood. During my fifth year, I was given detention. What did you offer me when you found out?

Biscuits. I'm glad my package was received; sorry about the extra precautions, but I'm sure you understand.

Yeah, no problem. Professor, is this completely secure?

Of course, Mr. Potter. I have some new information that I would never transmit in any way that isn't secure.

Harry looked down at the parchment, and was surprised that the first few lines were already disappearing. No chance of anyone getting a hold of it.

You'll be pleased to know that Headmaster Dumbledore's portrait has decided to speak. Although, he seems rather adamant about only doing it when I am alone in the room. Very strange. He has, however, informed me of matters of some importance regarding what you saw the night he passed on.

"That's one way to put it. He was murdered," said Harry aloud. Hermione and Ron both jumped and Harry wrote, If it's to say that Snape is innocent, check the portrait for Befuddlement Charms.

Now, Mr. Potter, no need for that. Prof. Dumbledore assures me that he is aware of what happened; he is also quite insistent that whatever it may look like to you, Severus did nothing without Prof. Dumbledore's blessing. I have also recently received communication from Severus, and he is continuing to work as a spy.

What!? But Harry was already thinking back to the letter he had gotten from Dumbledore. "Trust Professor Snape."

Mr. Potter! What have I told you about keeping your head on your shoulders? Severus has since contacted me, and has news of a planned Death Eater attack. One at which You-Know-Who is most likely to be present.

Where?

Bill Weasley's wedding. STOP Mr. Potter. I have already informed the Weasleys and the necessary Order members and Aurors.

Snape told you about it?

Yes. I daresay he'll be far more useful now. No one will dare question his loyalty after...McGonagall paused, and Harry stepped in.

I know. What can I do to help?

How have your studies been going? Miss Granger has, I'm sure, found many books to help you.

Yes, but I think we need a teacher to help us more than books can. I know a bit from doing the D.A., but wordless magic is still out of reach.

After the upcoming wedding, I'm sure I'll be able to help. Hogwarts will be closing next year, but there are enough ancient protections there that I think you will do well to take lessons. I know you have already contacted Remus Lupin. I also think Prof. Flitwick can be of great assistance. Now, back to the wedding. I don't suppose I can persuade you not to attend.

NO!

Relax, Mr. Potter, let me finish. Since you will be attending, I want to make sure that you stay with Mr. Lupin and at least one Auror at all times. Ms. Tonks would be a logical choice. Also, keep your friends with you. If you see Prof...I mean Mr. Snape while you are there, do not treat him in any way that would let on he's still spying.

I don't think that will be a problem.

No, I don't suppose it will be. I gave you a coin that will tell you when to next look at this parchment. Brilliant idea that Miss Granger had. Do not lose it. Mr. Potter, I look forward to writing with you again soon.

Thanks, Headmistress. Goodnight.

Goodnight.

Harry sat back and thought over all that was said. No, it would certainly not be a problem to act as if he hated Snape. He looked up at his friends. Hermione had gone white, and Ron was seething.

"How can she trust that... that...MURDERER?"

"Honestly, Harry, I'm not sure you should trust him. We still don't know for sure that this is McGonagall, or that she isn't acting under Imperius...or..."

Harry didn't think that he should share his letter from Dumbledore quite yet. "It won't hurt to add security to Bill's wedding. We need to be prepared always. As for trusting Snape, I don't. But if what he told McGonagall is true, than he is at least giving valuable information to us. We should use it until that is no longer the case."

Ron stared at him open mouthed. "I can't believe you said that. It was positively...Slytherin."

"No. It's how we're going to have to think to win this war."

Ron's mouth snapped shut. Harry smiled at his friends. "We will win this. Let's start planning for this wedding."

*******

When Harry, Ron, and Hermione arrived at the burrow, all three were shocked to see how normal everything was. Well, as normal as any place gets days before a wedding. Mrs. Weasley was at the front door, barking orders to everyone within earshot.

"Oh, good, you’re here." She pulled Harry into a hug, and then gave Ron a kiss. "I'll find out about your stay with the Dursleys tonight. Right now, please go help set up chairs." She pointed them towards where the twins were placing rows of chairs.

"Harry, Hermione, it's not too late. Run away!" Fred greeted them.

"I can't believe she's already enlisted you; you've been here how long? Five minutes?" George smiled.

Harry shrugged and had started to help with the chairs when Hermione laughed. "Oh, honestly!" She took out her wand and sat down. "Wingardium Leviosa," said she, and one after another the chairs flew to their rightful spots.

Fred and George look dismayed. "What'd you do that for, Hermione? Next thing you know, she'll be out here again, giving us a much harder job. Or, if possible, one even more boring," Fred said, sighing.

Slowly, the five of them made their way back into the house. As they walked in, Harry heard a conversation going on in very rapid French. He distinctly heard his name.

" 'Arry, you remember my seester, Gabrielle." Fleur saw them, and came into the room. Gabrielle started to hide behind her sister, but Fleur pulled her out. "Oh, don't be silly, Gabrielle. You 'av been talking about 'im since ze second task!"

Gabrielle blushed furiously, but started talking to Harry just as quickly as she had been speaking to Fleur a minute previously. "'Arry, remember when you rescued me? I tell all my friends. It was ze most exciting zing to ever 'appen." She had a heavy accent, and it took Harry a minute to work out what she had said.

"Er...yeah."

"'Arry, I'll 'elp you. What are you doing next? I want to 'elp!"

Just then Mrs. Weasley came in. "What are you all doing standing around? There's too much to do. The garden hasn't even been de-gnomed. Plus, this house has to be cleaned from top to bottom. Decorations need to be made and hung... What are you doing standing around? Find a job and DO IT!"

Harry spoke up first, "I'll de-gnome the garden."

"I will too!" Gabrielle piped up.

"Ron and I can make decorations," Hermione said, giving Harry an apologetic look.

"Great! Fred, George, come and start the cleaning."

Harry went out to the garden with Gabrielle, and he listened to her chatter while the two of them chased the gnomes from the garden.

******

Finally the wedding day came, much to everyone's relief. Mrs. Weasley was close to a nervous breakdown. Aurors and Order members came and checked and recast wards. Fleur had become insufferable again in her insistence that everything be absolutely perfect. Poor Harry had been left to deal with a very clingy Gabrielle in the meantime.

In the end, it was worth it. Fleur wore an absolutely beautiful robe, her hair almost melting into the fabric. Harry and Hermione sat in the second row, flanked by Tonks and Remus. Behind Harry sat Moody, and a half a dozen other Aurors were scattered in the seats. Even knowing that an attack was likely, Harry felt much better with the knowledge that they were there.

Fleur walked gracefully down the aisle, accompanied by her father. He handed her to Bill, who could hardly contain his glee at having this moment finally arrive. McGonagall, who was officiating, was making the ceremony painfully long.

When it came time for the vows, Fleur answered without any delay. Bill, however, was fighting back tears. He had just gotten the words out when a ball of flames started rolling toward the bride and groom.

Charlie was the first one to react, dousing water on the fire before anyone could come to harm. But the fire was only the beginning. A pop sounded to Harry's right, and he turned to see a Death Eater fire a hex at Hermione. He pushed her out of the way, ducking under it.

Now the pops of people Apparating were being drowned out in the cries of people throwing spells--and being hit. Remus had Harry's arm, and was dragging him towards Hagrid. Hermione was running next to them, trying to keep up.

"Hagrid, keep Harry safe. I need to help..." Remus started, before Hagrid cut him off.

"Not a problem, go!" Hagrid turned to Harry. "Now, let's get you out of here, shall we?"

"No! I've got to help."

"Harry, now's not the time to worry about that. Let's go."

But then, Harry heard a familiar voice behind him.

"Why, hello, Mr. Potter. Didn't think I'd be seeing you so soon."

Snape. Harry turned around, wand clenched in his fist. He was vaguely aware of Hermione telling him to get out of there, but all of his attention was focused on that one man. Seething, he stared at him. "Petri..."

With a flick of Snape's wand, Harry's wand was flying through the air away from him. "Potter, I really do not have time to do this again." Snape sounded bored.

Hermione grabbed Harry's wand, and was pushing it back into his hand. "Harry, we have to go," she hissed in his ear.

"Here's the great and powerful Potter. The Chosen One...and I can see right through you."

Harry tried once again to cast a blasting curse at Snape, but it was thrown off before he had even started the incantation. A pain was starting to build up behind his scar, and Hermione was pleading with him to go.

"That's right, Potter, listen to the mudblood; run away." Snape sneered.

And Harry decided, for once in his life, not to question an order given to him by Snape. He grabbed Hagrid and the three of them Apparated away.

Harry, Hagrid and Hermione returned to the Burrow before dawn the next day. All three were shocked at what they saw. Fires were still being put out. Harry did a quick headcount, trying to find all the redheads he could, but it was still too dark to see much. He spotted gleaming sliver-blond hair and realized he found Fleur. She was being held up by Bill, who was slowly rocking her back and forth.

Ron came up to them and, after assuring himself that they were fine, started to give them the casualty list. "Fred was hit in the leg with a bone-breaking curse, he's at St. Mungo's. Two Aurors were killed." Harry looked at Fleur, and realized she couldn't be that upset over simply having her wedding ruined. Ron spoke softly, "You-Know-Who killed Gabrielle. He said... he said that since you weren't there, he'd take the youngest person he could find as a message."

Harry gasped and covered his mouth, trying not to be sick. He was unsuccessful, and Hermione looked decidedly green when he regained control of himself. His two friends helped him into the kitchen, and Ron brought him a glass of water. He washed the taste from his mouth, but still couldn't quite bring himself to speak. He took a deep breath and steadied himself.

Fixing his glare out the window at a point beyond the horizon, he started to speak, "Voldemort must die. This has gone on long enough. She was a child. Only a monster would kill a child." He lowered his voice, "I have to get a hold of Snape."

Hermione just nodded. Ron started to open his mouth, but Hermione elbowed him and he wisely shut it. They sat in silence for a minute, but soon a screech owl flew into the room with a note addressed to Harry.

Dear Mr. Potter,

We have received intelligence that you Apparated without a license last evening at eight forty-two.

As you know, Apparation licenses are issued during any of the scheduled testing dates, the next being August 31 of this year. Any further attempts at Apparating before obtaining the appropriate license will result in fines and possible magic-binding.

Remember, Apparating without a license is not only illegal, it's dangerous.

Mafalda Hopkirk

IMPROPER USE OF MAGIC OFFICE

Ministry of Magic

"This has to be a joke," said Harry, as he handed the letter to Ron and Hermione.

Hermione rolled her eyes, and Ron snorted. "Apparating without a license is not only illegal, it's dangerous," he mimicked. "As if you were sitting around waiting for a chance to violate the law! Honestly, Harry, you should write the Ministry and give them a piece of your mind!"

Harry agreed and grabbed a quill and parchment. Just as he was about to start writing, there was a flash of flame, and Fawkes was in front of him with a letter.

Mr. Potter,

I had thought that perhaps you had at least learned some control during your absence from school. After our confrontation last night, I see I was sorely mistaken. Contact me through Fawkes to arrange lessons.

Severus Snape

As soon as he completed reading the letter, it burst into flames. He yelped and dropped it. Taking the parchment he was previously going to use to write to the Ministry, he quickly scribbled a note.

Mr. Snape,

Name a time and place, and I'll be there.

Harry Potter

He tied the note to Fawkes's leg, and the bird flashed out of existence.

"What was that about Harry?" Ron asked.

"Snape wants to meet me."

Hermione said, "If Fawkes trusts him, I don't think you have much of a choice."

"I know, I told him to tell me when and where. But damned if I'm going without an escape available. I have to be able to Apparate." He picked up the quill, and started to write.

Dear Minister Scrimgeour,

I'm sure you are aware of the situation involving my illegal Apparation last night. I would like to request a hold on any future prosecution involving any further Apparating I may do. I am involved with things directly relating to the destruction of Voldemort, and as such, I'm sure the Ministry will understand that exceptions must be made..

Thank you,

Harry Potter

He handed the note to Hermione, who nodded approvingly. Ron read it over as well and said, "No way can they deny you that!"

Harry called for Hedwig, tied the note to her foot, and told her to take it directly to Minister Scrimgeour. Hedwig hooted, and flew from the house.

They spent the rest of the morning helping clean up. Fleur was, understandably, a wreck. Bill was never far from her, and he held her up whenever she burst into tears.

At one point, Mrs. Weasley gave her a calming draught and helped her to lie down on the couch. Harry turned from the scene, feeling guilty and helpless. It must have shown on his face, because Bill took him aside, and told him that no one blamed him for what happened, not even Fleur. Harry had to admit that made him feel better.

Shortly after noon, Hedwig returned with a letter for Harry.

Dear Mr. Potter,

I am afraid I must turn down your request for the rules not to apply to you. Whatever you feel must be done, can, I'm sure, be accomplished while working through the proper Ministry channels. Of course, if you wish to change your position on where you stand with the Ministry, I'm sure something could be arranged.

Sincerely,

Rufus Scrimgeour

Minister of Magic

After reading the letter aloud to Hermione and Ron, Harry smirked. "Fine, he wants to play that game. Let's play it. Hermione, hand me a sheet of parchment, please."

Not knowing what he was up to, Hermione retrieved the parchment for him.

Dear Miss Skeeter,

How would you feel about having an exclusive interview?

Harry Potter

Hermione looked over his shoulder and stifled a giggle. Ron wasn't quite as polite. "Brilliant, Harry!"

Harry tied the note to Hedwig's leg, and sent her to find Rita Skeeter.

A letter arrived for Harry first thing the next morning.

Dear Mr. Potter,

I would love an interview. Are you available this evening? Everyone is curious about what happened at the wedding, but no one present is willing to talk. Please, tell me where we can meet.

Thank you for this opportunity,

Rita Skeeter

Harry apologized to Hedwig, and tied a quick response with his location to her leg. "One more trip, then you can have an entire bag of Owl Treats," he said, while petting her head.

Hedwig gave a soft hoot in response, and then took off.

Fleur was faring slightly better. She came to Harry and asked him to attend the funeral, saying that Gabrielle would have liked that. Then she erupted into tears, again. Harry held her awkwardly until her husband pulled her into his arms, thanking Harry.

Harry once again swallowed his guilt and turned away.

He took out the fake sickle in his pocket and fiddled with it. He looked at the date and time printed on it, and realized that McGonagall wanted to speak with him in an hour. He got up from his chair and found Ron and Hermione. He gestured for them to come to Ron's room where they could have some privacy while they waited for McGonagall to write.

Mr. Potter, are you there?

Yes, Professor.

Good, are you unharmed after the events of the other day?

Yes.

I'm glad to hear it. Have you communicated with Mr. Snape at all? You realize, now, how important it is you do so.

Yes, Snape contacted me, and I told him I would meet with him. But I haven't heard back yet.

That's fine. I have a place for you to use for your lessons. I will contact Mr. Snape with the place so you and he can arrange lessons.

How will I know where it is?

I have taken the liberty of informing Mr. Lupin. He will escort you; just send him an owl with the time and date.

Okay.

Mr. Potter, please give my regrets to the Delacours. I cannot, however, attend the funeral.

All right. Anything else?

I believe that is all. Mr. Lupin will contact me when you have your first lesson arranged. Until next time, Mr. Potter.

Until next time.

"Harry, I still don't think you should be meeting with Snape, no matter what Fawkes and McGonagall think. I mean, it's Snape," Ron commented.

"Ron, honestly, Harry is perfectly fine. Besides, Remus will be with him."

"Yeah, I know..." Ron prattled on, but Harry had already tuned out their bickering.

Rita Skeeter arrived that evening as promised. "What do you need me to do this time?" she asked, not quite politely.

"Come in, sit down on the couch; would you like something to drink?" Harry responded, guiding her inside.

She accepted the drink then repeated her earlier question.

"Nothing but the truth. Like last time. The Ministry wants to play games, and I'll play along, but I'm not going to play fair."

"Well, it seems as if you're finally growing up!" She was obviously delighted; this interview would be front-page material.

"There are a few things that absolutely have to get in; after that, I'll let you ask whatever you want."

"Love life?"

Harry snorted. "What love life?"

"Well, that's pretty boring. Okay, what is the Ministry up to?"

"That would be the thing I want to get out first. As you know, I am involved with this war on Voldemort. However, the Ministry has decided to make it exceedingly difficult for me to do my part. Is there any chance you can make it so that there could be more... pressure... for them to allow me to do what needs to be done?"

Rita had a disturbing gleam in her eye. "Why of course, Harry, that shouldn't be too hard at all." Her quill was writing like mad on the parchment. "So, does this mean you are, indeed, 'The Chosen One'?"

Harry had prepared himself for this question. "I can't say. All I can say is this, I am involved in this war, whether I, the Ministry, or Voldemort like it or not."

"Very good, do you think the Ministry isn't doing enough? They've had many arrests lately."

"The Ministry is making arrests to make itself feel better and to look better for the public. Many of the people arrested are not Death Eaters. Many have been under Imperious. Fifteen years ago, they mistakenly arrested Sirius Black, and wrongly took away his freedom. They should not repeat that mistake again with anyone simply for show."

"That's quite an accusation, Harry. Do you have any proof?"

"None, other than what Dumbledore told me and my gut feeling on some of the names I've seen in the paper."

"How do you feel about the death of the Delacour girl? You saved her during the Triwizard Tournament, did you not?"

"I'm very sad, and the Delacours have my condolences, both in private and here. She was never in any true danger during the tournament, but I did pull her out of the water during the second task. She was far too young to die." Harry stopped and took in a deep breath. "Far too young."

"So, no love life? You aren't with Miss Know-it-All?"

Harry rolled his eyes at the change in subject matter. "No love life to speak of. And I have never been with Hermione."

"Like I said, that's pretty boring. Any public appearances coming up?"

"No."

"Anything else you want to say to your adoring fans?"

He sighed. "No, I think that's it."

"Great then, I think I can have this printed by tomorrow. Good luck, Harry. And thank you."

"No, thank you. I really appreciate it."

She put her quill and pad into her purse, Harry led her to the door, and she left without another word.

"You guys can come in now," he called over to the doorway where he knew Ron and Hermione had been listening in.

"That was brilliant, Harry. The ministry's not going to know what hit them!" Ron exclaimed.

Hermione was about to congratulate him too, when the smell of smoke alerted them to Fawkes's presence. Harry took the letter Fawkes had and read to his friends:

Mr. Potter,

Tomorrow morning meet me at ten to begin our tutoring sessions. Leave your friends at home, as I have no desire to see or speak with either one of them.

Severus Snape

Whatever excitement he had felt before over the article was quickly replaced with a sick feeling deep in his stomach.

He got Hedwig and quickly wrote to Remus. He had written it out once, before he realized that it wouldn't be wise to mention Snape. In the end, he decided vague was best.

Remus,

Lessons start tomorrow at ten. Can you get me?

Harry

He gave Hedwig a treat and sent her off into the night.

Chosen One Speaks

Few names are as known or as well respected as Harry Potter. Once known only as The-Boy-Who-Lived, this young man has faced You-Know-Who and lived more than any other wizard alive today. In a recent interview with me, he hinted that he may, indeed, be The Chosen One. And yet, even in these uncertain times, this boy, barely of age, has to fight on two fronts.

Everyone knows that he is deeply involved against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named; most people don't know that the government that should be helping him is actually hindering him. That's right, our very own Ministry of Magic is working against The Chosen One in his quest against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

The Chosen One also believes that many of the arrests that are currently being made are being done only for show. He feels that some of the people arrested may be under the Imperious curse, and that more investigation should be done before sending people to prison.

The Ministry's only comment came from a former professor of The Chosen One's. "Mr. Potter has never felt that the rules apply to him. The way to defeat The Dark Lord is through the legal avenues set up by the Ministry. Anything he says regarding the current situation is most likely a lie. We mustn't forget how much he loves attention." This reporter must point out that the employee who spoke with us used to work very closely with former Minister Fudge.

The Chosen One's life is one tragedy after another. Recently his good friend's wedding was attacked, and a girl he saved during the Triwizard Tournament was killed. He was wrought with despair at the event. Without a girlfriend, his parents, or even the Ministry to back him up, he is truly all alone in his quest to rid us of You-Know-Who.

Harry stifled a chuckle as he put down the paper. He looked at Ron and Hermione. "I can't believe she spoke to Umbridge. I'm pretty sure the Ministry will get my message now though."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "I think even Fudge would have gotten the message. You need to send Rita some flowers for that one."

"I'll add it to my 'to do' list."

The three of them were finishing up breakfast, and despite Harry's enjoyment of the article, his stomach was tied in knots with anticipation of the day to come. Lupin came in as they were cleaning up.

"Hello. Harry, are you ready to go?"

Harry swallowed a lump in his throat, causing it to settle into his stomach. "As ready as I'll ever be." He lowered his voice. "Remus, do you trust him?"

Lupin nodded. "He sent me my Wolfsbane during the last full moon. And Professor McGonagall has reason to believe him." He put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Harry, Dumbledore wouldn't have put as much trust as he did in Snape for no reason..."

"And it killed him."

"Maybe, but I doubt it. Dumbledore's portrait has been speaking with Professor McGonagall. Dumbledore was never mistaken, Harry. You have to continue to believe in Dumbledore."

Harry sighed, knowing it was a lost cause. He quickly said goodbye to Ron and Hermione, and he and Lupin headed over to the fireplace. Lupin turned to Harry and spoke, "I may trust Snape, but not enough to not have my wand ready. We're going to ' Morayshire Manor'." He then told Ron and Hermione that he would be back shortly to begin working with them.

Harry nodded and took out his wand. Lupin went first, and Harry followed, speaking the location clearly before his world dissolved into a nauseating series of spins. He was unceremoniously dumped out of the fireplace, but quickly regained his balance and brought his wand up. He looked around for Lupin before a low voice behind him caused him to spin around.

"Elegant, Mr. Potter. Ten points to Gryffindor," Snape snarled, lifting an eyebrow.

"What'd you do to Remus?"

A hand touched his arm, and he jumped. "Harry, I'm right here." Harry visibly relaxed.

"A bit jumpy, today, aren't you, Potter?"

Harry offered a glare in response.

"Potter, your skill with words never ceases to amaze me."

Harry's right hand clenched around his wand. I will not let him get to me, I will not let him get to me... he repeated in his mind.

"What, Potter, no witty comebacks..."

"Enough, Severus. He's here, and I won't let you taunt him," Lupin stepped in.

Harry took a deep breath. "Thank you, Remus."

Snape turned to Lupin and ground out, "Don't you have somewhere else to be? I need his complete attention if he is going to learn anything."

"You will not harm him." Lupin's tone left no room for argument...were he speaking to anyone but Snape.

"No more than necessary."

Lupin took Harry aside and handed him a quill. "Harry, this is a Portkey that will take you back to Hogwarts if you need to leave at a moment's notice. Otherwise, Floo back to the Burrow when you are finished. The password to activate the Portkey is 'magic mirror'. Harry, don't let him bother you. He has a lifetime of experience on how to push buttons."

Harry nodded, and felt his entire being fill with dread at being left alone with Snape. He didn't say anything though, and turned away as Lupin disappeared in the flames. Still gripping his wand, he faced Snape.

"Relax, Potter. I won't bite...much." Snape looked him up and down as if determining if he was worth attacking. A hundred things to say went through Harry's mind, but he held his tongue. When Snape's eyes reached Harry's face, Harry forced himself to meet the man's gaze.

Snape continued with his monologue, "You will come here three days a week. Mornings we will spend perfecting your nonverbal spells and other defenses, afternoons on Occlumency. You will learn to control your temper and your mind. Oh, do stop sulking, Mr. Potter. It was unbecoming a year ago, and it is no less so now." Harry forced himself to hold his tongue. "You will be prompt, and you will do any assignments I give you without question. You will address me as 'sir'. Any questions?"

Harry shook his head. Dumbledore, I hope you know what you're doing.

"I didn't hear you."

"No, sir," Harry ground out.

"Good. Follow me. This is where we will take our lessons."

Harry followed Snape into a large room, which looked to be a dining hall without a table. Snape swiveled around, his robes swirling behind him, and he raised a hand to his mouth, as if in thought. "How many nonverbal spells have you mastered, Potter?"

"One, sir."

Snape's black eyes burned into his, and he knew that Snape was trying to ascertain which spell he knew. One eyebrow raised, and Snape hissed, "You will not be practicing that one in my presence."

Harry narrowed his eyes, but didn't respond.

"How are you trying to cast the spells?"

"Non-verbally," he replied without thinking.

"I'm not interested in your cheek, Potter."

Harry had enough. "What are you going to do about it? No house points, here. No detentions..."

Snape cut him off. "I can make your life a living hell, Potter. You would be wise not to forget that." His tone made Harry's blood run cold. "I am here because Professor Dumbledore wished it. Mr. Potter, like it or not, you are stuck with me." Snape had the grace to leave out, and you know it. "Now, when you attempt to cast nonverbal spells, what are doing?"

"I concentrate on the word and what the spell should do."

"Does that work?"

"Not from what I've seen, sir."

"Show me."

Harry lifted his wand and attempted a Jelly-Legs Jinx without opening his mouth, but nothing happened, as usual.

"Did it occur to you to try a different tactic if the first didn't work?" Snape snapped.

"No, sir."

"The first time you did your one successful nonverbal spell, what did you do?"

Harry thought back. "I just sort of said it in my head."

"Did you know what it did?"

"No, sir."

"Then perhaps you should try just 'saying it in your head' without expecting a result."

Harry looked at him incredulously; it couldn't be that simple. He raised his wand, this time just saying the spell in his mind. Again, nothing happened.

"Pitiful, Mr. Potter. What would your father think of you? Can't even do a simple jinx."

Snape waved his wand and an orange light flew towards Harry. He tried to jump out of its way, but the light followed his movement, and the next thing he knew, he was flat on his back, with the wind knocked out of him. His eyes focused on the dark man standing over him.

"Get up, again."

As soon as Harry was on two feet, Snape sent another hex his way. He shouted "Protego!" and it was deflected to the side.

"Quite the shield, does volume make it stronger?" Another wave of the wand, Harry again shouted out his Shield Charm.

Hex after hex was thrown and repelled. By the end of the morning, Harry was bruised, tired, and angrier than ever. Snape hadn't even broken out in a sweat. At long last, Snape announced that they could break for lunch.

Harry followed Snape into a kitchen, but belatedly realized that he hadn't brought any food. He sat down at the table, fully expecting to watch the other man eat a meal. He laid his head on the table. He was just going to rest for a bit, he told himself, but was shocked when a sandwich was pushed in front of him.

"Surely you realize that you cannot use magic the way you have all day without eating."

"Sir?"

"Magic is a type of energy; it takes its energy from you. Humans get energy primarily from eating. You were not expecting to go all day without eating, were you?"

Wouldn't be the first time, he thought bitterly. Aloud he said, "Of course not, sir. I was just resting."

Snape's expression was unreadable. "Hmm. Of course." He gestured to the sandwich. "Eat. I am not waiting around all day."

"Yes, sir," Harry replied, picking up the sandwich and taking a bite, too hungry to think about any poisons it might be dosed with.

He finished, and he and his former professor both made use of the facilities before going back into their 'classroom'. Snape turned as soon as Harry entered, his wand out. He had the decency to at least say "Legilimens," giving Harry a split second to recognize what was about to happen. Not enough time, however, to brace himself.

A green light hitting Dumbledore on the chest... he was looking through a Pensieve at the ghostly form of Trelawny giving the prophecy... flying on Buckbeak... Dudley pushing him down... Dudley falling through glass at the zoo... he was looking into Snape's Pensieve... he was pouring poison down Dumbledore's throat while Dumbledore begged... "NO!"

"That was abysmal, Potter. What were you doing to the Headmaster?" Snape seemed honestly curious.

Harry wiped a tear from his eye. "Nothing worse than what you did," he spat.

"Touché." Snape's eyes narrowed. "Prepare yourself. The Dark Lord will not give you warning."

Harry took a deep breath and attempted to clear his mind. Memories started to flash through his mind again.

Snape's first Occlumency lesson with him telling him it was like the Imperious... Voldemort and Dumbledore facing off in the Ministry of Magic... his scar burning as Snape looked at him the first time... suddenly finding himself on the top of the school... writing lines for Umbridge as they carved themselves into his skin...

"Honestly, Potter, is that the best you can do?"

Harry panted, trying to process what he had just seen. "Professor. Did you tell me it was similar to throwing off Imperious?"

"I believe I did. Brace yourself, on three..."

His parents were coming out of Voldemort's wand... No, I don't want you here, he thought clearly and calmly. He visualized a Shield Charm, lifted his wand, and found himself swirling in Snape's memories for the second time in his life.

A hook-nosed man was waving a Hogwarts letter in front of a black-haired boy... A woman gave the boy an old book... the boy had his wand out and was dueling with Harry, no James... "ENOUGH!"

Harry flew backwards, landing on his bottom. Snape was panting, but came over and offered Harry a hand up. "Impressive, Mr. Potter. A shame you couldn't do that at the end of your fifth year. Let's make sure it wasn't a fluke. Legilimens..."

Harry was prepared this time. He felt a tickle at the edge of his memories, and once again, thought, No, I don't want you here, while erecting a Shield Charm.

The boy was going to Tom Riddle, offering himself... a younger Snape was being held down as his screams pierced the night and he was branded as one of Voldemort's...

Harry found himself on the ground in the dining hall again. Snape was shaking and paler than usual.

"Not a fluke, it seems. I think that is quite enough for today."

Harry silently agreed. Snape guided him over to the fireplace. "I will see you on Wednesday. Practice your non-verbal spells and occluding your mind."

"Yes, sir." He grabbed a fistful of Floo powder, stepped into the Fireplace and announced, "The Burrow."

When Harry awoke the next morning, he couldn't help but groan. He ached in places he didn't know he had and felt incredibly drained. Looking back to the previous night, he didn't recall feeling so... beat up. By morning, though, it was obvious the training had caught up to him. As awareness returned to him, he recognized that someone was shaking him awake.

"Harry... Harry? What did that bastard do to you?" Ron's voice entered his consciousness.

Harry pulled the pillow over his head and grumbled, "Go 'way, Ron."

"Sorry, can't do that, Hermione'd have my head. She told me to get you up. Besides, you have to see today's Prophet." Ron wrestled the pillow away from Harry.

He held the newspaper in front of Harry's face until Harry grabbed it. Harry rubbed his eyes, and blindly searched for his glasses. After placing them on his face he finally could see what Ron was talking about.

Yesterday we informed you that Harry Potter, The Chosen One, felt that the Ministry of Magic was unfairly targeting him. Shortly after yesterday's edition came out, the Ministry contacted us. It seems that one "Mafalda Hopkirk," working in the Improper Use of Magic Office, didn't check with her superiors before sending out a warning letter to Mr. Potter. The Ministry also issued the following official statement:

The Ministry would like Mr. Potter and the rest of the Daily Prophet's readers to know that it was simply a mistake. Ms. Hopkirk has been demoted due to her oversight, and Mr. Potter is, of course, free to do what ever it is he needs to do to fight He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Harry nearly threw the paper across the room. "Those lying..."

"I know... but, Harry, at least you can Apparate now. I doubt they'll even make you take the test!" Ron cut him off.

Harry was gripping the newspaper and twisting it. "Ron, now I'm responsible for someone losing their job! She was just doing what she was supposed to. I've gotten enough letters from her over the years to know..."

"I know how you feel mate, but really, it's a small price to pay. Once this is all over, you can get her her job back."

"I guess..."

"'Sides, we've got to get down to breakfast. Remus wants us and Hermione to Floo to Hogwarts and start training with him and McGonagall."

Harry suppressed a groan. He really didn't want to train any more; he already felt like he'd been run over by a herd of Thestrals. Ron must have noticed his expression, because he spoke up again.

"What'd Snape do to you, seriously, you look horrible."

"Nothing worse than usual, just defense training. And Occlumency, again." He sighed.

"Well, let's get breakfast and you can tell us all about it." Ron snatched the paper from Harry before he could rip it to shreds.

Harry went to the restroom, pulled a clean outfit on and made his way downstairs. He paused at the doorway to the kitchen. Fleur was sitting at the table, but as soon as she saw him she stood and gave him a crushing hug. "'Arry," she sniffed, "Gabrielle's funeral is on Wednesday... she would have wanted you to be zere."

Caught off guard, and too tired to think about it, he nodded. She started bawling. To Harry's relief, Bill guided her away, nodding his appreciation to Harry.

Mrs. Weasley was placing eggs on a plate, and Harry's stomach made a loud grumble. He blushed, not realizing how hungry he was. He sat down, and let Mrs. Weasley serve him.

Ron elbowed him. "You said you would tell us what happened yesterday," he said between bites.

"Oh, sorry, still a bit tired," Harry said, then recounted the day's events to his friends.

Hermione nodded approvingly. "It's about time you learned Occlumency, Harry. Once you've learned that, and possibly some Legilimency too, you'll be much more able to face Voldemort."

Harry was spared a response by Mrs. Weasley's tsking in disapproval. He turned his attention to his meal, and ate it with an appreciation he hadn't had since the last time Dudley was on a diet.

He heard a soft chuckle behind him. "Easy there, Harry. We're going to be doing a lot today and I'd rather not have you sick."

Harry swallowed the mouthful of food he had just taken, choking slightly at the effort. Ron noticed his plight, and handed him a glass of milk.

"Sorry, Remus," he replied, his face still red.

"Don't worry about it, I was a teenage boy once." Lupin smiled.

Harry thought it was more than just being a teenager, but he didn't say anything.

"You three ready to go?"

Harry took another sip of milk, and nodded. He, Ron and Hermione all stood and followed Lupin to the fireplace.

Lupin stepped in and called out "Headmistress McGonagall's office, Hogwarts."

Harry flinched slightly at the name; he didn't think he would ever get used to it no longer being Dumbledore's office. He stepped into the fireplace and followed his former professor.

He stepped out the fireplace and looked around. He had thought that by now McGonagall would have changed the room, but it still looked exactly as it had when Dumbledore occupied it.

"Harry, my boy!" He heard a disturbingly familiar voice from the wall.

"Hello, Professor Dumbledore..." Harry began, but was interrupted by McGonagall coming into the room.

"There you are, Mr. Potter," McGonagall stated, then she turned to Ron and Hermione, who had Flooed in after Harry. "Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger," she acknowledged, "please, have a seat." She gestured to the chairs in front of her desk.

Harry glanced at Dumbledore's portrait, who nodded at him. He gave a half smile and sat down between his two friends. Lupin stood behind them, and put a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder.

Professor McGonagall spoke, "Mr. Potter, how did your session with Mr. Snape go?"

"All right, I guess," he answered hesitantly. "I see him again tomorrow."

"Yes, I know. You are getting along better with him now?" Something glinted in her eye. Not quite the twinkle Dumbledore had, but she seemed to be trying.

"I'm trying to," he grumbled.

"That's all I ask." She looked at his companions. "As you are aware, with the attack on Hogwarts at the end of last year, we have decided to close the school until times are... well, until things are more settled."

Hermione was nodding, and Ron spoke up, "We understand."

"With Hogwarts closed to students, it does make a good place to train those who cannot help but be involved." She looked pointedly at the three teens in front of her. "Along with you, I think that some of the students you had in 'Dumbledore's Army'," she looked over her glasses at Harry, "might be of some assistance to you."

"I don't want anyone else to get hurt on my account, I don't think..." Harry started to protest.

Hermione interrupted him, "Harry, just think about it. How much did you learn when you were teaching the D.A.? Sometimes teaching can make you learn more than you would normally. If you train three days a week with Snape, and two mornings a week with the teachers here, you could just teach the D.A. one afternoon a week. At the very least, they'll be better suited if they ever come into contact with Death Eaters. You have to admit there's a fairly good likelihood of that, even if they weren't associated with you."

"Precisely what I was thinking, Miss Granger." Hermione beamed.

Harry's mind was swimming with how much work it would be. He was sore and achy after one day of training with Snape. He didn't know if he could handle all of it. He looked at Lupin and his friends. They all seemed so... eager. Reluctantly, he nodded.

"Wonderful, Mr. Potter." McGonagall smiled. "Now, let's get you to your first lesson. Miss Granger, do you think that you could put together a list of students you think should be included? Mr. Potter, you may go over it and revise it by Thursday. Then I shall write letters to the students."

Harry nodded and stood. He glanced longingly at Dumbledore's portrait. "Later, Mr. Potter. I'm sure you two can catch up," McGonagall told him quietly.

"Thanks."

They made their way down to the Defense Against the Dark Arts room, the three of them taking three desks in the front of the room. Lupin followed closely behind them, and they started a very loose discussion on what they did and did not know. Lupin also helped Harry put together an impromptu lesson plan for when they started the D.A. again.

Hermione was a bit reluctant to use the name 'Dumbledore's Army'. Harry had other ideas.

'That's what we are. We're Dumbledore's Army. We aren't doing this for the Ministry. We aren't even doing this for the prophecy. We're doing this because this is what Dumbledore died for. Because Dumbledore was GOOD! We can't dismiss his name because he is dead. He is the ideal we should be striving for. Don't you think?"

Even Hermione had nothing to say to that. They kept the name.

After they had worked out the logistics, the three teens stood in a triangle and took turns attacking each other, both with words and without. Lupin worked his way around them, helping each one with their technique in turn. By the end of their session, Hermione was still the only one who could accomplish any non-verbal spells, and even then there was only a fifty percent chance of her getting it.

Professor Flitwick came in and invited the trio to lunch in the Great Hall. Ron and Hermione hastily agreed. Harry, however, wanted to speak with Dumbledore's portrait. Lupin gently took Harry's arm and shook his head. "You may speak with him later, before you leave. But you need to eat, you're far too thin." Harry grudgingly agreed, and went with his friends and former professors to eat.

He had almost finished his meal when Professor McGonagall came to him. She spoke directly in his ear, and he jumped up to go with her. "Dumbledore," he said to his friends hastily, and he followed the Headmistress up to her office.

"Harry! You've come to see me at last." Even the portrait had twinkly eyes; Harry grinned at it.

"I'm sorry, sir... things have been... hectic."

"I imagine so, my dear boy. Come tell me about it."

"I got your letter. Fawkes gave it to me."

"Ah. How is Fawkes? I miss him terribly, but I doubt he will come back to Hogwarts any time soon."

"He seems fine, sir. He's been acting as a messenger between me and Snape."

"Wonderful! I'm glad you two are communicating. Fawkes, I'm sure, is delighted to work with you."

Harry smiled and nodded, determined not to let Dumbledore distract him. "Sir, can you tell me about Snape? How you can... How can you trust him after...after..." Harry found himself getting inexplicably choked up. He didn't realize it would be this hard.

"Harry, I have tried not to keep you in the dark as much as I did when you were younger. When Sirius Black died, I realized the error in my judgment. You have always wanted to know everything you could, but some things I needed to let you find out for yourself. Sometimes, there is no, 'why'.

"Severus's reasons for leaving Tom Riddle are his, and I cannot share all of them with you. Nor can I share his reasons for joining in the first place. If he wishes to share them with you, he will.

"This last year, Severus was under tremendous pressure. In the end I knew that either he and Draco Malfoy would perish, or I would. Harry, I had lived my life, and though I know how much you--and many others--wished me to stay around, life simply does not work that way. I was not all-powerful, despite what it seemed. I did not fear death, as I have said before, it is the last great adventure. It was my time.

"You and Severus have a much more important role in this than I ever did. Share with him what you know about the Horcruxes. He is more able to help you in that quest than I was, and I left the entirety of the secret for you to share with him. He is also able to teach you Occlumency and Legilimency, where I didn't have the time to."

"Professor, what if this is all some elaborate trap?" Harry could feel tears prickling at his eyes.

"It isn't, Harry. Severus is the only one who can help you."

Harry sighed, resigned. "May I speak to you again? I miss you."

"Harry, I am gone. You may speak to me if you have questions. I will do my best to answer them. Professor McGonagall is also available to you. However, I don't think it is the healthiest thing for you to talk to me on a regular basis. Remember the Mirror of Erised; people can become addicted to portraits of loved ones just as easily."

"But, sir..."

"Enough, Harry, you know what you must do."

"Thank you, sir."

"Any time, Harry. Give my regards to Severus." Dumbledore smiled at him, closed his eyes, and started to snore softly.

Harry wiped the tears from his face, took a deep breath, and walked from the room in search of his friends.

Harry awoke in the middle of the night with a start. "Oh shit," he breathed.

He must have startled Ron awake, because soon the redhead was beside him.

"Are you okay, mate? You-Know-Who isn't messing in your mind again is he?"

Harry caught his breath and tried to remember what had woken him so suddenly. He brought his hand to his head in horror and groaned. Ron was getting ready to rush out of the room to get Hermione or his parents when Harry grabbed his arm and kept him next to the bed.

"C'mon, Harry, you're scaring me here. What happened?" Genuine concern showed in his friend's eyes.

"I... What time is Gabrielle's funeral?" Harry asked.

"I don't know for sure, but I think it's early afternoon. Is he planning something?"

Harry realized how much he was frightening Ron, and he quickly shook his head. "No. Nothing like that; you can go back to sleep."

Ron looked at him incredulously. "I don't think so. What's going on?"

"Ron, it's really nothing... don't worry about it."

"No, I'll decide if it's nothing. You're scaring me," he repeated.

Harry sighed and shook his head. "I have to break my date with Snape."

Ron was thoroughly confused. "What?"

"I told Fleur I would go to the funeral tomorrow, but I have training with Snape at the same time."

Ron's eyes widened as realization dawned on him. "Sorry, mate, I don't envy you at all. I'd rather face You-Know-Who than have to cancel with Snape."

Harry chuckled despite himself. "That's not funny, Ron."

"No, but it's the truth!" He patted Harry's shoulder. "Sorry, again." He stifled a yawn. "I'm going back to bed."

Harry groaned again, but nodded. "Goodnight, Ron."

Harry could hear Ron's soft snores in the next bed, but, despite his exhaustion, his mind was focused on the next day. Playing scenario after scenario in his head, he finally drifted off into a restless sleep.

It seemed as soon as he had closed his eyes that the gray of false dawn woke him. Giving up on sleep, he went down to the kitchen.

Mrs. Weasley came down shortly after the sun rose. She nodded to Harry as she started busying herself in the kitchen. He offered to help, and she accepted. She chattered, and Harry let himself drift in the sounds of her voice.

He was slicing some melon when he realized that she had asked him a question and was waiting for a response. "Sorry, Mrs. Weasley, what?" he asked apologetically.

"I asked what you were doing up so early. Is something bothering you?"

It occurred to him that he didn't know how much Mrs. Weasley knew concerning Snape. He also knew he didn't want to be the person to tell her that Snape was most likely not the one responsible for Dumbledore's death. He searched his mind for a reasonable response.

"Just worried about training today. I have to leave early for the funeral, and I don't think my instructor will be very forgiving."

Mrs. Weasley nodded. "Oh, I'm sure it will be fine. No need to stay up all night over it!"

Harry mumbled something about being sure she was right, when Ron, Hermione, and Ginny came and joined them. The four talked about meaningless things over breakfast. After eating his fill, Harry excused himself and got ready for the day.

He said goodbye to his friends, and Mrs. Weasley called to him and told him to be back by one for the funeral. He called out, "All right," and Flooed to Morayshire Manor.

He stepped out of the fireplace and quickly dropped down as a jet of blue light flew towards him. He drew his wand and fired a hex back in the direction the light came from. He squinted, trying to find his attacker in the dimly lit room. He heard a crash; his hex had apparently missed its target. A purple hex flew towards him, and he rolled away in an attempt to avoid it. He wasn't quick enough, and he felt a stinging in his back where it hit.

"Expelliarmus." Harry's wand flew from his hand.

Harry rubbed his back, and glared into the darkness.

"You're late," a voice drawled.

"I am not!" Harry replied obstinately.

"Potter, I have wasted six years of my life trying to train you. Believe me when I say 'You're late.'"

Harry growled. This day was NOT going his way.

"And still as articulate as always. When coming into a room by Floo, one should always be prepared. At the risk of sounding like Mad-Eye Moody, his policy of 'Constant Vigilance' is a good one. From now on, when you come here--when you travel at all--keep your wand out. This is the last time I will tell you." Harry nodded and accepted his wand.

Snape guided Harry over to where the crash had been. "I don't think the Headmistress wants us to completely destroy her family home." He pointed his wand at a broken picture that had fallen to the ground. "Reparo. Wingardium Leviosa." He directed the painting back to a hook on the wall.

Snape and Harry walked quickly to the dining hall. No sooner had they entered than Snape started after him again. Harry spent the next session on the defensive, rarely getting a spell in edgewise. He did manage to avoid the majority of the hexes, if not by shields, than by rolling.

"Come on, Potter, you aren't even trying!" Snape said as another blast of light erupted from his wand.

"Serpensortia..." Harry threw out, watching as the snake erupted from his wand. "Get the man!" he hissed at it.

Snape was momentarily distracted trying to vanish the reptile, and Harry took advantage of the situation. "Expelliarmus!" he shouted. He smiled in triumph as Snape's wand flew into his hand.

Snape, now defenseless, backed up as the snake continued to move towards him. "Potter, do you mind?" he ground out.

"Oh, yeah. Finite Incantatem." Harry said, pointing his wand at the snake. Harry smirked at his former professor.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "There may be hope for you yet, Mr. Potter. That was something I had not foreseen."

Harry, realizing this was the closest he would get to a "good job", smiled broadly and handed the wand back.

"However, I wouldn't use that in a duel with The Dark Lord, as he is also a parselmouth." Harry sighed... and ducked as a spell came towards his head.

Harry shot a jinx at Snape in turn as they started their duel anew.

Harry was breathless, but Snape hardly seemed to be trying. "Mr. Potter, if you think this is hard, wait until this afternoon." A blue light shot out of his wand.

Harry put up a shield, and replied, "About that, sir, I won't be able to make it." He fired a hex at Snape, which met one of Snape's in midair. The two beams of light crashed and fizzled out of existence.

Snape, however, had already sent another one his way; Harry ducked under it and blasted another one in Snape's general direction.

"Why ever not, Potter? Skiving off for an autograph session?" Snape sneered, blocking the hex with ease before casting a yellow curse towards Harry.

Harry sidestepped the curse, and let it hit the wall. "No, sir, I have to attend a funeral. A little girl died the other day when you attacked the wedding."

Snape hesitated.

"What? You didn't know that your antics killed an eleven-year-old? You were too cowardly to stop the attack, and the bride's sister was murdered." Harry taunted, against his better judgment.

The next thing Harry was aware of was Snape's hand offering him assistance in standing. "Potter, this is a war, and in war people die. If it hadn't been an attack at a wedding, it would have been an attack in Diagon Alley, or Hogsmeade, or a Quidditch match. If you intend to go to everyone's funerals, I should cancel all future lessons now. This girl was not the first to die, nor will she be the last."

Harry stared at his feet. "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. However, I did tell this family that I would attend. I need to attend."

"Very well, I will let you attend this one. After this, unless you are good friends with the deceased, I do not expect you to go to any more. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." He pointed his wand at Harry and fired a blasting curse at his chest. Harry turned in time to avoid it, but he could feel the heat of it brush against his clothes.

Harry noticed he was definitely moving slower than usual. He wondered what he had been hit with earlier. He managed to block another hex, but there was one that followed soon after that he couldn't stop. He turned his back to the light coming towards him, in a desperate attempt to protect his vital organs. Again, he found himself on the ground with Snape standing above him offering a hand.

"Potter, your performance is abysmal," Snape growled as Harry stood on shaky legs.

"Sorry, sir. I'm trying." He winced and rubbed his back where the last curse had hit him.

"Not. Hard. Enough. A first year could have blocked that."

Harry seriously doubted it, but then, he doubted Voldemort would be so forgiving.

"Lift up your shirt."

"Pardon me?"

"Potter, lift up the back of your shirt, let me see your back. That last one hit you harder than I had intended."

Harry glared at him.

Snape rolled his eyes. "Very well." He pointed his wand at Harry, giving him just enough time to raise his own wand in response before starting over again. His back protested every move he made; he allowed his wand to be taken from him with Expelliarmus just so he could have a little rest. He sat down heavily on the floor and clenched his jaw against the throbbing in his back.

"Pathetic. This is the person in whose hands the fate of the entire world rests? I'm sure the Dark Lord will be happy to pause during your fight. I don't think even your father was that arrogant."

"I am not my father," he said through his clenched teeth.

"Obviously. Your father was better at the things he did than you are. I hate to admit it, but at least some of his arrogance was deserved."

"Lay off him. He's dead, thanks to you!"

Snape almost looked taken aback, then he lay into Harry again. "Mr. Potter, I didn't kill your parents. The Dark Lord did, as he will surely do to you, if you don't start training!"

'Oh, you didn't pull the wand on him, I've seen the scene enough in my mind to know that, but you were the one who told Voldemort about the prophecy. You were the one responsible for my parents dying. Just as much as Voldemort."

"Do. Not. Say his name!"

"Admit it. You are just as responsible for my parents deaths as..."

"Get out."

Harry's back screamed in protest as he tried to rush from the room. He almost cried, but he would not give Snape the satisfaction. He snatched his wand from Snape and rushed from the room. He barely had stepped through the door when the pain in his back became too much, and he sank to his knees.

Pain was shooting down his back and into his legs. He didn't think he could have stood if he tried. He cried out weakly, and the man who had been insulting his father a moment before was beside him.

"Stupid boy, let me see your back."

Harry wasn't even given the chance to protest as the back of his shirt was lifted, and Snape's fingers ghosted over the spot where the pain seemed to start. He reached into his robes and pulled something out. Harry started to pull away from him.

"Potter, I am attempting to help you. Now, if you would please stop moving, I can heal the mess of nerves that is your back."

Harry twisted around and glared at Snape.

"It's just a healing salve, it won't harm you. If you prefer I can leave you on the ground and no one will know what has happened until you fail to show up at the funeral this afternoon. I assure you it will not harm you any more than the curse you are already suffering from."

Reluctantly, Harry turned over and allowed the man to administer the salve to his back. The pain stopped shooting down his legs and had localized to one small spot.

"Do not attempt to do anything strenuous for the rest of the day. That salve can repair nerves fairly quickly, but they are more susceptible to damage now."

"Yes, sir," Harry stated, belligerently. He stood up and walked to the fireplace, a scowl firmly in place.

"I will see you on Friday, Potter."

"Fine, sir." He stepped into the fireplace and called out, "The Burrow."

He emerged at the Weasleys'. He went up to the restroom, and showered before anyone realized he was there. He let the hot water massage away the pain the salve did not. He quickly dressed and went down to the kitchen for some much needed food.

Mrs. Weasley was quick to get him lunch, and he sat with his friends and ate. They were joking, but somehow, he didn't feel right laughing just before going to a funeral. Ginny seemed to sense his discomfort and gave him a small smile.

Mr. Weasley came to the door, and Mrs. Weasley herded the entire crew to him. He produced a tennis racket from a satchel. This, he informed them, was a Portkey that would take them to the cemetery in France. After a count of three, they all grabbed on, and Harry felt the unmistakable pull against his belly button.

They arrived at the cemetery and Bill ushered them to appropriate seating. They sat, but the ceremony was conducted in French and he tuned it out. The casket was lowered into the ground, and Hermione started to bawl. Ron awkwardly patted her back. Harry shifted in his seat uncomfortably. Ginny placed a hand on his, and squeezed.

Fleur and her parents were all crying, and Bill was doing his best to comfort her. Harry couldn't wait for the entire thing to be over. He gave his condolences to the Delacours, and was extremely relieved to see Mr. Weasley get the Portkey out again.

When they arrived back at the Burrow, he, Ron, and Hermione made their way up to Ron's room so he could share the morning's events.

"You let him touch you?" Ron was disgusted.

"Ron! He was trying to help him."

"Yeah, after he hexed him," Ron pointed out.

"Oh, Ron, you know he was just trying to help. Harry really should have been able to block that spell."

"And what about him attacking Harry's dad?"

"Oh, honestly!" Hermione stomped her foot and left the room.

Ron shook his head. "Sorry about her, mate, I'm not sure what's gotten in to her."

Truth be told, Harry was exhausted, and was not in the least bit upset. "It's all right. I'm ready to turn in."

Ron smiled and left him to sleep.

Severus walked into the sitting room where his young ward was reading a piece of parchment.

"Where have you been?" Draco asked.

"I assure you, if it had been for you to know, I would have informed you."

Draco opened his mouth, then shut it. Severus watched him open it again, close it, and swallow.

"Draco, are you impersonating a cod for any particular reason, or do you have something to say?"

"Severus... my mother sent a letter."

Severus raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, waiting for Draco to go on.

"She... she thinks that I should go. She wants me to go back with her."

"And where would you go? I assure you, there are Aurors at her house daily. They wait for when you should arrive. They want to take you to Azkaban, where you can share a cell with your father, but first they will torture you. They will torture you mercilessly until you break. They will want information, confessions, and they will stop at nothing to get it. They will want you to betray our lord. They will want you to betray me. To tell them where you have been."

"I...I can't. The Fidelius..."

"The Fidelius will prevent you from speaking of this place, yes. But the Aurors won't care."

"Severus... I think my mother wants me to betray the Dark Lord."

"What makes you say that?" He gazed into the boy's eyes.

"It's nothing. Just a feeling I have. I think... I don't know. I know she still believes in the cause. It's..." Draco stopped; Severus's glare still boring into him. "It's just a feeling I have," he repeated.

"I see. Forgive me if I don't rush off to inform our master that you "have a feeling" your mother may have strayed."

Draco's eyes widened. "No. Don't, I mean..." He took a deep breath. "Would it be so bad for her to get away from this?"

"I guarantee you, it would be bad for her." Severus gauged the young man in front of him.

"Other than that."

"Your mother is a fully trained witch, well capable of handling herself. She knew the stakes when she joined the Dark Lord. She knows the stakes now. I am not sure what it is you are asking me."

Draco shook his head. "Never mind," he said quietly.

Perhaps there is hope for the boy after all, Snape thought. "Draco, remember that there are far worse fates than being in hiding." He gestured to the book-covered walls. "There is plenty of reading material here. Make yourself at home. It is as much your place as it is mine for the time being."

"How long do I have to stay here?"

"I will speak with our master. He may see fit to include you in one of the raids. I am sure there will be enough carnage to satisfy any urges you may have to leave the confines of my home for a fair period of time."

Draco paled a bit, but a small smirk appeared on his face. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it. I have seen first hand what can happen when a person is caged for too long. I have no desire to see that happen to you."

"So, I can really look at any of the books here I wish?"

"I did say so. You are of age, and already know more than the others of your year. Just be sure not to tell Wormtail what you read," he hissed the last part.

Draco looked puzzled for a minute and started when a voice came from behind him.

"You won't let me touch your books," Wormtail whined. "He's just a kid, he doesn't know the power some of those books have."

"How long have you been listening?" Draco blanched.

"Long enough to hear you griping at being locked in." Wormtail shot back. "As if we had a choice. Who would choose to be stuck with Snape?"

Severus drew his wand, and before Wormtail realized he had it out, he was knocked across the room with a bruise appearing on his face. Severus stood and loomed over the quivering man. "You have one purpose, Wormtail, and that is to assist me. I serve the Dark Lord in many ways, one of which is developing new potions. I am sure I can find a use for human tongue in one of them."

The little man gulped, and ran from the room. Draco had a hand over his mouth in a vain attempt to cover his laughter.

"I have no use for the man. You are far better at research, potions... well everything, than he is." Severus allowed a small smile to reach his lips. "Draco, come here."

Draco walked over to Severus, who took his hand. He placed it near one of the shelves. Draco yelped as if he had been burned, and tried to pull his hand back. Severus kept it in place, and the books' wards glowed red for a minute while he adjusted them to allow the young man access.

"Now, would you care to assist me in my lab again?"

"I'd rather read, if it's all the same to you."

"Very well."

Draco ran his hands along the books. He found one with its spine almost completely broken and pulled it out. He blew on the top of the front cover, and a plume of dust arose, making him cough. "Hmm...'Untraceable Poisons of Ancient Egypt.' I think this could be interesting."

Severus cocked his head. "As long as you don't practice any of those on me."

"I won't... I can't promise anything when it comes to Wormtail though." Draco smirked, and Severus held back a chuckle.

"Please try and hold back... I'd hate to have to explain to the Dark Lord why Wormtail cannot attend any future engagements." Draco's smirk just grew, and he sat down on the worn sofa and began to read.

Pain shot through his forearm. Waking up with a wince, he quickly answered the Dark Lord's call.

He bowed low before Voldemort. "My Lord."

"Rise. How are your projects coming?"

"My Lord, they are progressing well. I believe I am almost finished with the Torqueo Draught. I also have some ideas for a potion that would dissolve a person's body from the inside out using flesh eating slugs. I have been waiting to finish the Torqueo first before starting."

"Very good. Your skills have improved during my absence, Severus. In fact, it seems you have become even more devious than in your youth."

"Thank you, My Lord." He gave a small bow.

"I have another project for you."

Snape looked at him questioningly.

"I am looking for something that will make a man's fears come to life."

"Pardon my forwardness, My Lord... but isn't a Boggart meant to do that?"

A sickening laugh escaped Voldemort's throat. "Of course it is. What I'm looking for is something a little more... lasting. Something that will envelope the victim, that cannot be banished with a simple charm."

Despite himself, Severus was already going through ingredients in his mind. "How long lasting?"

"Long enough to make the victim be unsure of the reality of it. Long enough to drive them mad."

"My Lord, I do not know if I will be able to..."

"Of course you will be able to." Voldemort reached forward, grasped Severus's chin, and tilted his head upwards. Blocking absolutely everything from his mind, he met the Dark Lord's eyes. "I have full faith in you, one of my most loyal Death Eaters. You are the best at what you do."

"I will do my best," Severus answered, his eyes still locked with Voldemort's.

"You will do what I ask."

"Yes, My Lord."

"Tell me, Severus, how is young Draco doing?"

"He shows an... eagerness... a yearning, if you will, to learn more than what he was allowed at school. I have given him unrestricted access to my library. He also shows an aptitude for both potions and Dark Arts mastery. I feel the best place for him is still under my tutelage. He has also expressed a desire to join an upcoming raid."

Voldemort steepled his fingers. "Perhaps we should arrange a raid for Draco." He nodded his head. "Yes, yes, I think we should. Have you any ideas, Severus?"

Severus searched his mind, trying to find something they could use. "Perhaps..." he stalled.

"Yes, Severus..."

"The Ministry, My Lord. Perhaps we could create a rouse..." Severus's mouth was speaking before he could think things through, "create a rouse elsewhere, draw the Aurors away..."

"Yes. Yes, I believe it may be time for an attack. We are strong enough to split our forces."

"There is Immort Alley in Sheffield; they have remained untouched until now, My Lord. The Gringotts branch there isn't as heavily protected as the one in Diagon Alley. If you give me another few weeks, the Torqueo Draught should be ready for use." Severus forced a gleam into his eyes and twisted his lips into something that resembled a grin.

"Yes, Severus. You have three weeks to perfect the Torqueo. I will put you in charge of the raid in Immort Alley. How do you feel about having Draco as second in command?"

"Draco lacks the control, if not the ability, to lead. This is, after all, only his first raid."

"Very true, Severus. Greyback will accompany you."

"Of course, My Lord."

"Draco will also be in your party. He has a rapport with you that I don't believe we should ignore. I also would like him to learn from the best."

"You flatter me, My Lord."

"Nonsense, Severus. Only the best could develop something akin to the Torqueo, or the numerous other potions and spells you have created. No one other than you would have been able to deceive Dumbledore for sixteen years. You are the best."

"I am nothing in comparison to you, My Lord." He lowered his head in a bow. "If you will excuse me, sir. I have much to prepare."

"You are dismissed."

"Thank you, My Lord." With a final bow, he left.

He was late for his session with the Potter brat, and he was sure he would never hear the end of it after the last meeting they had. He now had a deadline he wasn't sure he could meet, and he really didn't want to waste any time working with the boy. He pulled out his wand and quickly Flooed to the Manor.

He stepped out of the fireplace, quickly putting up a shield. He was rewarded with a spell bouncing harmlessly off it.

"Enough, Mr. Potter," he said, flicking his wand lazily and putting the boy in a body bind. "I heard enough of Professor Slughorn's praise of your potions skill this year. I'm curious how much of that is yours and how much was mine. When I release you, I shall test you and find out if anything seeped into that thick skull of yours from my old book."

Once released, Potter glared at him. Severus sighed and took the boy into the kitchen.

"I am developing a potion for the Dark Lord. The potion itself is finished; however, I refuse to give it to him if I do not have an antidote."

Potter swallowed and Severus scowled at him. "Sir, what about the bezoar?"

"The bezoar is effective against many deadly poisons. However, while some may consider this a poison, it isn't deadly in the least."

"Would Golplats's laws apply?"

"Golpalott was a fool. His laws are impractical, more so in this case. Don't think of what I need as an antidote, think of it as a neutralizer."

"What is this potion?"

"That's where you should have started your questioning, Potter. It is a potion designed to make the victim feel as if his body were being twisted and tortured. It causes no permanent damage. Similar in many respects to the Cruciatus, only not traceable to any wand, the Dark Lord has wanted it since the moment of his return."

"And you made it?" Severus smirked as Potter began to turn green. "How could you just make something like that?"

Severus shrugged. "If I hadn't created it, someone else would have, eventually. I rarely trust other people with creating things I am capable of. I needed something to occupy my mind. I assure you, teaching dunderheaded students like yourself wasn't a challenge."

Potter mumbled something that Severus chose to ignore. "Why are you asking me this? You know my potion skills aren't the best."

"I am aware of that, Potter. However, you are the only person with which I can speak openly about this. You did manage to make an "E" on your potion OWLs, so there is some potions knowledge in that arrogant head of yours."

Potter snorted at the almost-compliment. "I guess I can help you."

"Very well, let's get started."

Severus conjured a quill and parchment. He went over each ingredient with Potter, thinking out loud why he added what and when. He ignored the fact that it was Potter he was speaking with; he just spoke. Potter had surprisingly many questions to ask, and Severus found that answering them confirmed his original thoughts while making the potion. However, the boy had no original thoughts of his own on the subject.

He did find that speaking aloud forced him to organize his thoughts more than if he had just been scribbling them out as usual.

Potter interrupted him, "Sir, what about using crup fur? The calming effect..."

"Is definitely something to keep in mind." Severus looked in shock at the young man who had been the bane of his existence for the last six years. "You may be useful after all."

For a while, Severus almost forgot that it was Potter he was working with, and not his mother. He had spent many hours in the back of the library with Lily Evans creating new potions and charms. Perhaps the boy had inherited more than just her eyes. It didn't negate his disregard for anything other than himself though.

Eventually they were working in silence next to each other. It was occasionally interrupted by Potter asking him about an ingredient or a stirring technique, but altogether the experience wasn’t unbearable. Potter handed him a piece of parchment to look over, and he pointed out the mistakes in Potter's theories.

As he was marking the parchment, a soft voice interrupted his thoughts. "I spoke with Dumbledore's portrait the other day."

"And what did the old coot have to say?"

"He told me to trust you." Potter pouted, "But he wouldn't say why."

"Some secrets are not the Headmaster's to tell. I'm sure you can understand that."

"But they are yours. Why should I trust you?"

Severus smirked. "Because the Headmaster told you to."

"Damn it, Snape! I'm tired of going around in circles. I need more than that to trust you!"

Severus lowered his voice dangerously. "Because I am the only one who can help you. No one knows more about the Dark Lord, no one is a better Occlumens and Legilimens, and no one knows more about the Dark Arts than me. In short, because you have no choice."

Potter sighed, defeated. "Sir, how much do you know about the Horcruxes?"

Horcruxes? Plural? He narrowed his eyes. "I know only of one, a ring that Professor Dumbledore destroyed. It had a curse on it, it was killing him. I was able to slow the process, but as you could see from his hand, there was no reversing it."

"Voldemort made more than one."

Severus hissed, both at the name and the implication. "That isn't possible, Potter, no one has ever made more than one. The human soul can't be splintered more than once."

"His diary my second year, that was one too."

Severus's eyes widened. "You destroyed that one. How many are there?"

"There were six. At least that's what the original plan was. Two have been destroyed, one we almost had, but it wasn't there... Dumbledore thought Nagini is one."

"Seven soul fragments," he hissed. "What are the others?"

"Nagini, the ring, the diary, the locket--which is missing--, a cup, and something else, most likely belonging to Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. Plus Voldemort himself."

"Tell me about this missing locket."

"The night Dumbledore... well, he found the location of one of the Horcruxes, a locket that used to belong to Salazar Slytherin. Anyhow, someone had taken it before we got to it. There is a cup, a gold cup that once belonged to Helga Hufflepuff, Voldemort got a hold of it. The last Horcrux is most likely something that belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw or Godric Gryffindor. I have to destroy all of the Horcruxes before Voldemort. As long as they're around, he won't be truly destroyed."

"Very well. I shall attempt to find out what I can. As should you. You have access to the Hogwart's library. See if you can find out information about the Founders, see what artifacts of theirs remain."

"As soon as I can." Potter nodded solemnly.

They ate lunch, and continued to work on the potion for the rest of the day.

"Sir, why is this so important?"

"What do you mean, Potter?"

"Why are you so anxious to get the antidote to this potion made?"

"Because I am expected to deliver the potion to the Dark Lord soon. And I learned a long time ago never to let anything I create out of my control without having a way to counteract it."

"If Voldemort wants it..."

Severus winced. "Do stop using his name in my presence."

Potter glared at him. "If You-Know-Who wants it, when is he planning on using it?"

"I do not know the exact date, but in approximately three weeks, there will be a dual attack. I am to lead Death Eaters in an attack on Immort Alley in Sheffield. The Dark Lord will be attacking the Ministry. Do tell Professor McGonagall, as I'm sure she can help arrange something to minimize the casualties."

"Yes, sir. May I go now?"

"You may."

Potter left the room, and Severus went over all he knew about the Horcruxes. Damn Albus for not telling him sooner. Four soul shards to destroy along with the Dark Lord, Potter had his work cut out for him.

"Hey, Harry. C'mon, you can't sleep all day."

Harry groaned and pulled a pillow over his face. Judging from the amount of light from the orange glow behind his eyelids, it was definitely past his normal time for awakening.

Ron pulled the pillow from Harry's grasp. "Harry, what'd Snape do to you yesterday?" Ron tossed the pillow aside and yanked the covers off Harry. Harry opened one eye and glared at his friend. Ron chuckled in response. "Come on, it can't be that bad!"

"Actually, yesterday is the first day all week I haven't been intensely dueling someone. I'm sore, I'm tired, and I was really looking forward to sleeping all day." Harry tried to snatch the quilt from Ron, who stepped out of reach.

"Nope, Harry, it's been a week since the wedding. Hermione and I were going to go with you to Godric's Hollow today."

Has it only been a week? Harry mused. "All right, all right. I'm getting up."

He stretched and slowly worked his way out of bed, loosening each muscle individually. He grabbed some clothes and went into the bathroom, hoping a hot bath would soothe his tight, sore body.

Stepping into the steamy bath, he lowered himself into the water. He let it soak into the knots in his shoulders, and he started to drift off into sleep. Shaking himself awake, he forced his eyes open and grudgingly began to wash.

Harry must have taken longer than usual, because someone knocked on the door. "I'm almost done!" he called out.

"If you say so, mate! Mum made lunch, and it's ready downstairs if you want it," Ron responded.

Harry stomach made a low grumbling sound, and he realized he was hungry. "All right, Ron, be there in a minute." He drained the tub and dried off. Quickly throwing his clothes on, he ran down the stairs and sat at the table.

Ginny, Hermione and Ron had already started eating by the time Harry got there, but they offered him a smile and let him pile food on his plate. He went over what had happened with Snape the day before. Hermione looked pleased.

"It's about time you learned some proper research methods, Harry. I think this is really good for you."

Ron rolled his eyes and shoveled a bite of potatoes in his mouth. Ginny was unusually quiet throughout the meal.

Harry stood long after everyone else had finished and gathered his plate. Ginny placed a hand on his arm. "We need to talk. I would like to be able to come with you today," she murmured.

"Ginny, I..." He sighed.

"Harry, please. Hear me out. I know we can't date, but that doesn't change the fact that I care about you. Today isn't going to be easy for you, and I would like to be there for you." She smiled at him.

"Ginny, I broke up with you because I care about you too. What if something were to happen... if you were seen with me? It would defeat the purpose of us not going out..."

"You can't keep me locked away in a cupboard, Harry."

Harry winced at the comparison. "I'm not trying to. I just... I don't think I could handle it if something were to happen to you, not on my account."

"You care about them too," she said, indicating Ron and Hermione, "but you are letting them come."

Harry snorted. "I couldn't stop them if I tried."

A gleam appeared in Ginny's eye and she smiled. "Just try and stop me."

Harry sighed in defeat, and took his plate to the sink with Ginny following right behind.

Hermione came into the room. "Harry, are you coming? Ron and I are waiting."

"Yes, and Ginny's coming too."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, but didn't respond. They walked to the fireplace. Hermione took a pinch of Floo powder, stepped into the fire, and called out, "Dragon's Breath Tavern."

Ginny and Ron followed. Harry braced himself for the dizzying ride, announced his destination, and, barely managing to stay vertical, stepped out at the tavern in Godric's Hollow.

Hermione had been the one who found out about the Dragon's Breath when they were staying at the Dursleys'. Like The Leaky Cauldron, it was a Wizarding tavern that existed in the Muggle village, hidden by a concealment charm from the Muggles.

Hermione consulted a map, and the group set off toward where Harry's house once stood. Harry looked around, hoping to find something that seemed familiar, but nothing did. A hand grasped his, and gave a light squeeze. He looked over at the hand's owner, Ginny, and gave her a small smile in return.

At last, Hermione announced, "This is it." She gestured at a building. Harry looked at it. It looked like the Dursleys'. Every house on this street looked like the Dursleys'. He sighed. He closed his eyes, hoping to just feel.

Hermione spoke softly, "Oh, Harry. Remember the house was destroyed. It's been 16 years, the Muggles must have developed..."

Harry took a deep breath. "It's all right, Hermione. I still need to be here."

Hermione gave him a sad smile and nodded.

They stood there for quite awhile. Ron shifted from foot to foot. Ginny occasionally touched Harry's back. Harry closed his eyes again, and tried his best to remember what the house in front of him should look like. A soft wind picked up and brought him out of his reverie. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, but he was pretty sure he hadn't found it here. He turned to his friends, just as an angry old man came out of the house next door.

"Get out of here, you hooligans. Planning on stealing something from the Myers, simply because they're on vacation. Well, mark my words; I'm calling the police. You've got no business in this neighborhood." He waved a cane at them and came closer.

"I'm sorry sir, it's just, I used to live here, when I was younger, and..."

"Save me your lies; the only folks to have lived in that house are the Myers, and they've lived in that house for the last 15 years. I should know; I've lived here just as long."

"Sir, I lived there before then. When I was a baby." He peered at the man through his glasses. "In the house that was here before."

"There wasn't a house there before. It was rubble. I looked at that lot. Chose against it; it was better to demolish a house and start from scratch than to have to get rid of all the debris. All of the old neighbors left at the same time. Something about this area being cursed. Never could get any solid proof from them. Now, get out of here, before I call the police."

Harry gave up, and slumped his shoulders. "C'mon guys, let's go to the cemetery." He silently hoped that he would find what he needed there.

They stopped at a flower shop on the way there. He picked up two mixed bouquets, and the four headed to his parents' cemetery.

All four gasped as they stepped through the gate. There was a crackle of magic around them they couldn't ignore. This cemetery was ancient, there was no doubt about that, and it definitely had not been limited to mostly Muggle use. A large monument stood in the center of the field of tombstones. Every member of the party felt inexplicably drawn to it.

Hermione was the first to notice the writing at the base of the large statue. She let out a gasp. "This has to have been magically preserved. Even the best tomb keepers wouldn't have been able to keep this in shape!"

GODRIC GRYFFINDOR

Was etched into the gray stone. Hermione was right; it had to have been magically preserved, as there was no wear on the stone at all. The monument itself was of a man with shoulder length hair, dressed in robes. His arms were folded, with one hand gripping the handle of a sword, and he looked as if he were watching over the cemetery.

There was magic pulsing around them, and Harry felt compelled to at least acknowledge the man who founded his House at school. He gave a slight bow of his head. "Thank you, sir. For giving me my first home that I can remember." He gestured towards the sword. "Your sword saved my life, your hat too... um, just... Thank you," he finished awkwardly.

The pulse of the magic changed slightly, though no one else seemed to notice it. Harry closed his eyes, and started to walk, trusting that the magic was guiding him to something he needed to see. The others watched as he carefully avoided smaller monuments and tombstones. He stopped and turned. Slowly he sank to his knees in front of a rather large headstone.

Ginny was the first to move after him, with Ron and Hermione following shortly behind her. She stood behind him, with her hands on his slightly shaking shoulders. He looked up at the headstone, and reread the words chiseled into it.

Here lie Lily and James Potter

They gave their lives so that their son might live.

Lily Potter James Potter

1960-1981 1960-1981

Harry placed the two bouquets at the headstone. He hadn't thought he would cry. Nevertheless, tears were flowing freely down his cheeks. His friends seemed to know not to come near him. He didn't want to be comforted, not yet, not now. He fingered his parents' names and dates. As he finished tracing his mother's name for the second time, he felt the wind pick up for the second time that day.

He gasped as a pink glow traveled from his fingers up his arm. It seemed to embrace him. All the magic he had been feeling since they entered the yard wrapped around him and held him close. He heard whispers of his parents' love. He heard voices of people he never met, but knew to be his ancestors. The pink light grew brighter and gathered around him and in him. Slowly it started to dim, and he started to sob in its absence, but he realized that the light was the only thing to fade. The love, his family's love, was still there.

Bright green eyes shimmering with tears, he looked at his friends. They all seemed to be in shock. One by one, they came over to him. In an awkward four-way hug, they held each other. Sure that they must have felt some of what he had, he looked at their tear-streaked faces. He smiled at them, and acknowledged the love they were giving him.

"I think I found what I was looking for," he said, half-laughing through his tears.

No one responded. They stayed in their huddle until Ron's stomach growled in protest. Harry reached for his parents' headstone again and gently touched it. "Thank you, Mum, Dad. I love you," he whispered. The group stood, and holding each other up, left the cemetery.

Harry awoke with a start. He looked out the window, but all he could tell was that it was still dark. Glancing at the bed next to him, he figured it must be somewhat early, as Ron had obviously not slept in it yet. He grabbed his wand and cast a quick spell to find out the time. Ghostly numbers appeared in the air. "Eleven-twenty-five," he said aloud to no one in particular.

He swung his legs out of the bed and padded softly down the stairs in search of his friend.

"Mum! You can't just kick him out!" Ron's voice came from the kitchen.

"Shush!" Mrs. Weasley admonished. "You don't want to wake him."

Harry stopped outside the door.

"Molly, dear..."

"No. I love the boy dearly, don't accuse me of not, but I do think he needs to think about where he is going to live. Ron, we simply cannot afford to keep him here."

"Mum, I know..."

"Just talk to him. See what his plans are."

"Molly, dear, I do think you are being rather unreasonable. He is just a boy." Mr. Weasley's voice was weary.

"He's a boy who has far more than we do."

"He doesn't have a family!" Ron defended.

"And we don't have the finances!" Mrs. Weasley returned in kind. "With Hogwarts closed this year, we cannot afford to keep your sister and you and half your friends."

"Mum, it's not fair. How am I supposed to tell him he's not welcome here anymore? We've always told him he could come here. It's just not fair."

"It's about time you, and he, learned that life isn't spelled f-a-i-r."

"Because Harry, of all people, doesn't know that already."

"We've raised our children. We love you all. And your friends. But raising you has taxed us, financially and physically. I will never turn you, your sister, or your brothers away. But Harry simply cannot stay here forever. I'm not saying he has to leave tomorrow, but I would like a timeline from him. I don't believe that is asking too much!"

Harry heard something slam onto the table. "FINE!" Ron yelled.

"Now, Ron, calm down," Mr. Weasley said.

"No! I'm not going to calm down. What you're asking isn't fair!"

"Is it fair to ask us to just take in every stray orphan you come across? We aren't made of money."

Ron didn't respond, but Harry heard a sigh.

"Ronald, I didn't mean that..."

"No, Mum. I understand. I'm going to bed."

Harry ran back up the stairs until he reached the room he shared with Ron. He buried himself under the covers, turned away from the door and pretended to be asleep. Ron came in and muttered a soft, "I'm sorry, Harry, I tried," before climbing into his own bed.

Harry didn't fall asleep for quite awhile after that, even though he had to see Snape in the morning.

He sat at the table at breakfast, and Mrs. Weasley dished some eggs onto his plate. He thanked her, and she asked about what he had planned for this day.

"I'm training again. That's my schedule for at least the summer, Monday, Wednesday and Friday I'll be training one-on-one. Tuesday and Thursday we'll all go to Hogwarts."

Ron rubbed his eyes and started in on his own food.

"You know, Mrs. Weasley, I really appreciate you taking me in like this. But I was thinking, it really isn't polite of me to be putting you out. I have my own house, Grimmauld Place, and I do know how to take care of myself; at least, I know how to cook. Maybe this weekend I could move over there."

Mrs. Weasley gave Ron a questioning glance; he shrugged in response.

Ginny spoke up, "Harry, you don't have to go back there; we're happy to keep you here."

"No, really, I feel bad living off you like this. I have a house, seems a shame to waste it. I even have Kreacher to help me. I mean, the place is bound to be a mess, no one's been there for a year, right?"

Mrs. Weasley smiled. "Of course, dear. I can understand you not wanting to be around us anymore. We're a big group, and a boy your age is bound to want more privacy than can be given here. If you would like any help getting settled, we'll be happy to."

Harry forced a smile. "Thank you, Mrs. Weasley." He shoveled the last forkful of food into his mouth. "I'd better get going."

He dashed out of the room. It really would be better this way. He didn't want to cause any tension between Ron and his family. And Mrs. Weasley was right. It'd be nice to have some privacy. At least, he thought it would, he'd never had it before.

He grabbed a handful of Floo powder. "Morayshire Manor," he said, and he headed to his meeting with Snape.

"Oof!" Harry fell to the ground — again. It felt as if he had spent more time on the floor than on his feet this session.

"Abysmal, Potter. That was even worse than your normal, pitiful, effort." Snape glared down at the teen. "Up."

"Don't suppose you could give me a hand," grumbled Harry as he gingerly made his way to his feet.

"In case it has escaped your notice, Potter, I am training you for battle. I sincerely doubt that the Dark Lord will stop to give you a hand. Really, I am being far too generous."

"Bastard," Harry mumbled under his breath, not seeing the hex that knocked him — once again -- to the floor. He stayed there, not really able to think of a good reason to get up again; it seemed futile.

Snape reached down and grabbed his shirt, pulling him up to his feet. Harry swayed for a moment but remained upright.

"I find it frightening that the entire fate of the world rests on your shoulders," Snape snapped, raising his wand.

Harry managed to half-heartedly cast a shield-charm before the hex hit him this time, but he was too weak at this point to stop himself from colliding with the floor.

"I quit!" Harry made no move to get up.

"Pathetic, Potter." Snape turned on his heel and passed through the door into the kitchen.

Harry lay there for a few more minutes, debating if he should follow his former professor. He decided that Snape was probably waiting behind the door to throw a curse at him. He gradually became aware of the fact that the floor was not the most comfortable place to be. Painfully aware of his bruises, he carefully manoeuvred himself onto the sofa.

"Potter, you will eat!" Snape called from the kitchen.

Harry crossed his arms and sat back against the cushion.

"Potter, you are not seriously injured. You will come in here and eat, or the pain you are feeling now will be comparable to having a skinned knee. Do I make myself clear?"

Harry gave a muffled "clear as mud, sir" and extricated himself from the sofa. He raised his wand before pushing entering the kitchen, mildly surprised at the fact that Snape wasn't standing guard at the door but was rather sitting at the table eating a sandwich.

"You have five minutes; I suggest you eat quickly." Snape gestured to the food sitting on the table.

Harry lowered himself into the seat across from Snape and helped himself to a sandwich, deciding that he was rather hungry.

They ate in silence for the next five minutes precisely. Snape then pulled his chair out and cleared his spot, giving Harry a pointed look. Harry sighed and cleared his setting as well.

"I have come a little further in the development of the anti-Torqueo draught..."

They sat down and started to once again work out some more ideas for the potion.

"Honestly, Potter! How did you ever manage an 'E' on your O.W.L.s?" Snape slammed his quill down on the table. "A first-year knows better than to mix faerie wings with frog hearts!"

"Look, I'm trying!"

"I don't have time for your trying," he spat. "Look, at your best, you are utterly incompetent. Today, though I don't know how, you have managed to exceed your own incompetency by leaps and bounds. Now, I don't know what is going through that empty head of yours, but you will get over it, and you will do it quickly."

"Yes, sir!" Harry all but shouted before he angrily started scratching away at his parchment again.

After he broke the tip of the quill three times, Snape snatched it from him. "That's enough. What is wrong with you?" he growled.

Harry said nothing and tried to grab the quill back from Snape.

"No. Whatever it is that is bothering you is impeding my ability to work. Now, either tell me what it is, or get out and don't come back."

Harry weighed his options, clenching his teeth. He finally decided that Snape was too invaluable a resource to dismiss over his childishness. "I am moving out of the Weasleys' and into the old headquarters this weekend," he ground out.

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Molly Weasley is letting you out of her sight?" he mock-gasped. "Really, did you even inform her?"

"It was her idea."

At this, Snape truly did look shocked. "Surely you jest. Molly Weasley loves you like a son. I saw the way she treated you two summers ago."

"Look, I overheard her talking to Ron about me. She wants me gone, and it isn't right of me to continue to mooch off them."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "The great Harry Potter is worried about inconveniencing someone?"

"She said she doesn't want me there any more. I don't like being a burden."

Snape had heard enough. His eyes bore into Harry's, and Harry felt the brush of Snape's mind against his. The conversation he had overheard the evening before played in his mind before he was able to block Snape out.

"You should keep your mind better guarded; I shouldn't have been able to get that much from you. Are you certain that was Mrs. Weasley you overheard?"

"Who else would it have been? Ron called her 'Mum'! And I know her voice."

"You are certain you weren't dreaming?"

"Of course I am!"

"Then I believe your choice was the correct one. If it continues to bother you, speak with the Weasleys about it. Now, if you are done sulking, I have a potion to complete." Something about Snape's tone was bothering Harry, but he let it go. Snape handed the quill back to Harry. "Now, do you think you can concentrate enough to be of a minimal amount of use? Good."

Harry opened a book and started to work out a possible formula on the parchment. He felt oddly lighter. He rubbed his scar absently, and soon the only sounds in the room were the scratchings of the quills.

Harry handed the parchment he was working on to Snape, who glanced over it. He compared the parchment he had written, and Harry watched the expression on his face. "Of course!" Snape tossed the parchments on the table and grabbed another book.

Harry just blinked as Snape seemed to get lost in the work he was doing.

"If I just... no, but that might..." Harry caught bits of Snape's mutterings.

Harry cleared his throat.

"Potter, you are dismissed. I will see you in two days. See that you are in a better frame of mind, or today will seem like a picnic."

With that, Snape gathered the parchment and books and walked into the room with the Floo, leaving a very confused Harry behind.