Monday set the tone for the whole first week of classes. Potions lessons were pure torture, with Snape taking points from Harry at every opportunity, while the rest of his classes were fine. Homework assigned had been manageable so far. Harry had classes Monday and Wednesday afternoons with Remus and Professor Dumbledore, practicing Legilimency and advanced wandless magic. Once they had gotten over the shock of being made co-captains for the Quidditch team, Harry and Ron had gotten right to work on setting up team practices and tryouts for the two open chaser positions, although they felt Ginny was a shoo in for one of them.

Unfortunately, Harry had also been plagued by nightmares every night, over and over watching his parents, Cedric, and even Sirius, dying in a jet of green light. Unable to help, as if stuck in sand, Harry was forced to stand and watch, struggling in vain to save anyone. He continued to wake up with his chest heaving and head pounding, unable to get more than a couple hours of sleep a night. In an effort to avoid questions, Harry had been getting to breakfast very early, skipping lunch, and catching dinner late. He hadn’t seen Remus since their Wednesday afternoon class, and Hermione was getting increasingly worried about him.

Harry sat in double Potions on Friday afternoon, striving to keep his temper in check and just endure the last few minutes. Snape was in a mood and had already managed to take twenty points from Harry, who sat like a statue, looking straight ahead.

“Your assignment will be turned in next lesson. Everyone may go.” Snape said in a sneer. “Except you, Potter.”

A feeling of defeat washed over Harry as he packed his book, quill, and parchment into his bag. Standing beside his desk, waiting for the room to clear, Harry knew that he could not continue the term in this class, with Snape taking points from him every time he breathed wrong. His weary mind was not up to this, he thought, the sleepless nights had taken their toll. He heard the door to the dungeon classroom close.

“Well, Potter, if you believed that your actions on my behave last Saturday would change things, I hope I have proven you wrong. I will not be obligated to you!” Snape snarled coldly, his dark eyes glittering in his sallow face, as he stepped in front of Harry.

Obligated? It suddenly dawn on Harry what Snape had been going on about all week, and it infuriated him. Too exhausted and drained to care, Harry dropped his bag and took a step toward Snape, their noses almost touching.

“You think you’re obligated to me? And here I thought you’d found out about your underpants showing!” Harry raged at Snape, his emerald eyes shooting green fire into Snape’s eyes. “Don’t give it another moments thought, Professor, you owe me nothing! It certainly wasn’t anything personal!”

“What are you talking about, Potter?” Snape hurled back at him.

“It was just my hero thing, as you told Voldemort! My bloody stupid saving people thing as Hermione calls it! Seems I have this inability to stop myself from saving someone whose life is in danger! Started with Ginny in the Chamber of Secrets, the little girl at the bottom of the lake during the second task, and even bringing Cedric’s body back because his…his ghost asked me to!” Harry was screaming now, his face white. “That stupid impulse I have that led 5 of my friends to the Department of Mysteries last June where they were all hurt; that effing thing I have that brought my godfather to his death.”

Harry was horrified to hear his voice break on that last word, his eyes still burning into Snape’s had filled with tears. He torn his gaze away and flung his bag over his shoulder, trying to affect a dramatic exit before Snape could kill him or he broke down in front of the greasy git.

Even that was taken from him, as the scar on Harry’s forehead suddenly seared with pain and agony exploded in his mind. He was unprepared, his walls had dropped in his rage, and the pain that seared through him was incredible. No longer aware of his surrounding, Harry fought to slam the walls back into place, shield his mind from the flames that felt like they were engulfing his brain.

As if from a long distance, a voice cried, “Potter! Potter!” Firm hands eased him to the stone floor. “Harry? Can you hear me?” The voice was roughly gentle, familiar, yet unfamiliar, but Harry latched on to the sound. Clutching at his head, struggling to get a breath, he thrashed around as the pain became unbearable, until he was hauled up and held firmly. Swirling blackness threatened to engulf him, and Harry lost track of time, until he managed to get the walls in place, smooth them, and reached for his wrist, pressing the watch.

The trill of Phoenix song sounded, comforting and calming, lessening the pain. His stomach still churned, and his head pounded painfully, but he was able to open his eyes. Harry startled to find Snape, sitting on the floor, supporting him, cushioning his head from the hard stone. Another wave of pain hit him, and his stomach heaved, Harry tried to push Snape away, but he didn’t budge, gently turning Harry on his side. The classroom door banged open, and Remus entered at a run, with Dumbledore at his heals.

“Severus, what happened?” Dumbledore asked, as he knelt by Harry.

The soothing cool fingers helped the white-hot searing of his scar, and Remus moved to cradle Harry’s head, as Snape stood up.

“I am not sure, Headmaster, but it may be because I provoked…”

“He knows, Professor…” Harry choked out, diverting Dumbledore’s attention.

“What does he know, Harry?” Dumbledore asked softly, leaning down.

“Voldemort just found out from Malfoy that Snape was still alive, and he was really angry.” Harry struggled to get up.

“Sit, Harry!” Remus told him sternly, a firm hand on his shoulder.

Harry sat, his head bowed with his Headmaster’s hand still resting on his forehead. All he wanted to do was leave, to get away from the dungeon. It was bad enough that he’d lost control and screamed at Snape, who had probably taken a hundred points off Gryffindor, but then to have collapsed at his feet just completed his humiliation.

He looked at Remus pleadingly. “Please, I just want to leave.” Harry whispered.

A look shot between Lupin and Dumbledore, and together they helped Harry up into a chair. The movement made Harry’s head spin and he squeezed his eyes shut, taking deep steadying breathes, willing his churning stomach to settle down.

“I am not sure that you are ready to walk yet, Harry, and I doubt you want to be seen in this corridor under anything less than your own power.” Dumbledore said sagely.

Harry slumped further back in his chair, the bitter taste of frustration in his mouth. He drew in to himself, checking and smoothing the walls in his mind, willing the lingering pain and shakiness to subside. Hating the weakness that made his legs still quiver, he tried to steel himself.

“Harry, when was the last time you actually slept?” Remus asked quietly, and Harry felt his godfather’s hand on his chin, lifting it. “Look at me, Harry.”

Harry opened his eyes, alight with pleading. “Do we have to do this here, Remus? Can’t we just go?” He met Remus’ soft gray eyes, surprised to see anger there.

“No, Harry, please answer the question?” Dumbledore’s voice was unusually stern.

Harry looked up into the bright blue eyes. “Since last Saturday night, Professor, I’ve been having nightmares, just regular nightmares with flashes of green light.”

“Your parents, Harry?” He asked, and Harry nodded. “Cedric, too?” Harry nodded again. “And, Sirius?” Harry dropped his eyes, and nodded jerkily; just wishing he could sink out of sight.

“Harry, less than a week ago you survived a curse that has killed everyone else it was ever cast at. For the second time in your life, it did not kill you, but it did affect you. Madame Pomfrey warned me of this, but I wanted you to be able to start the term without being singled out, yet again. I now see that I was wrong, and should have confined you to the hospital wing until you were better, instead of letting you struggle through the week.” Dumbledore said, a touch of apology in his voice.

Harry’s head snapped up, and he stood up before anyone could stop him, his head spinning in protest. “No, Professor, you did the right thing! It’s my own fault I got hit again, and I’m fine except for the not sleeping. Please don’t put me in the hospital wing, I feel stupid enough that I am too weak to fight off these scar attack things! I’ll go right to bed now, I promise!” The over-bright green eyes pleaded with the Headmaster.

“This one hit you harder than usual, Harry, why?” Dumbledore asked his softly, his eyes looking into Harry’s.

Harry sighed. “Because I got mad at Professor Snape and dropped my guard. I’m sorry, sir.”

“Actually, Headmaster, I am afraid I must take the blame for that.” Severus Snape spoke in a quiet voice, but his eyes were on Harry as he stepped forward. “I misinterpreted Potter’s exhaustion and believed he felt he was able to now attend my classes without putting in any effort, as I owed him my life.”

Dumbledore studied the two of them. “You mistook Harry’s exhaustion as arrogance, Severus?”

“Yes, Headmaster.” The Potions Master answered, the voice almost unrecognized without the sneer in it. Harry kept his eyes on Dumbledore, but could feel Snape’s scrutiny.

“And, of course, you have never truly witnessed what happens to Harry, what he suffers when Lord Voldemort’s emotions are inflamed, have you, Severus?”

“No, sir, just the one time in your office last week, Headmaster.” Snape said softly.

Harry turned, bending down to grab his book bag sitting on the floor next to Snape, the need to escape overwhelming. On top of everything else, the last thing in the world he wanted was pity from Severus Snape. The classroom spun again, firm hands caught and steadied him, and Harry stiffened, waiting for Snape to push him away. It did not come. Slowly, he raised his head and looked into the dark unreadable eyes. He wasn’t sure what he saw there, but at least the pity he feared was not present.

“Perhaps, Severus, both of you needs to reevaluate your opinions of each other.” Dumbledore said quietly, as Remus moved forward to take Harry’s arm and start towards the classroom door.

“Potter, how many points have I taken from you this week?” Snape asked him.

Remus stopped, and looked down at Harry, who met his eyes unflinching. “Eighty, sir.”

“Eighty points! Merlin’s beard, Severus, what were you thinking?” Remus blazed, looking back at Snape.

“Remus, why don’t you take Harry on up to Gryffindor Tower, I will be along in a moment.” Dumbledore said quietly.

Remus took the book bag from Harry as they stepped out into the deserted corridor, keeping an arm around his shoulders to steady him. Harry could see that his godfather was angrier than he’d ever seen him.

“Remus?” Harry looked at him. “It’s okay, really, it was just a hard week.”

They had just walked up the marble staircase outside the Great Hall, where Harry could hear the clatter of cutlery and murmur of voices. Remus stopped dead in his tracks and turned toward Harry.

“I can allow a lot of things, Harry, make excuses for old grudges and perceived wrongs, but I have no stomach for a teacher who abuses his position!” The last came out in a low voice through clenched teeth. “Especially when he singles out one student for that abuse!”

“I’m sorry, Remus.” Harry said, putting his hand on the other man’s arm.

“Bloody hell, Harry! You don’t have anything to be sorry for!” Remus told him.

“I’m sorry you’re so upset, I shouldn’t have yelled at Snape, I shouldn’t have gotten so angry that I dropped my guard. It’s my own fault, Remus.” Harry said as he started up the staircase again. Remus followed him silently up to the tower and in to the deserted common room.

When Harry stopped, Remus waved him on up the dormitory stairs. Harry signed and trudged upstairs. He sat down on the edge of his four-poster, his head throbbing again. He felt Remus sit down next to him, a hand on his shoulder.

“I guess I was also upset that you didn’t tell me you were having nightmares, Harry.”

Harry rubbed his hands over his face, and looked at his godfather with a crooked smile. “I was embarrassed that I was having nightmares like a little kid, Remus, but I should have told you. I just thought they would go way, is all.” He looked up, his bright green eyes troubled. “I, um, I really had a go at Snape, probably earned every one of those eighty points, but he told me that he wasn’t going to be obligated to me. Why does he hate me so much, Remus?”

“I am beginning to wonder that myself, Harry. I was surprised though, when we came in to the dungeon, to find him sitting on the floor holding on to you so you didn’t hurt yourself.” Remus told him, softy. “I ‘m not sure what to make of the man, either.”

Harry undressed and climbed into his pajamas, and got into bed while Remus watched. The dormitory door open and Professor Dumbledore walked in, carrying a tray food.

“Ah, very good, Harry, you are already in bed.” He set the tray across Harry’s knees and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Your friend Dobby sent this up for you, he thought you would like it.”

Harry picked up the spoon and took a bite, more to please the Professor that anything, and found that it tasted very good. He took another bite.

“That’s better, I do believe you’ve missed a few meals this week, too. Can’t have you falling off your broom tomorrow during Quidditch practice, can we?” Dumbledore smiled at him. “I have sent for Madame Pomfrey, Harry, and I would like her to check you over. She is also going to bring you a potion that will help you sleep.”

“Professor, how many points did Professor Snape take off Gryffindor because I yelled at him?” Harry asked quietly, not meeting his eyes.

“One hundred points” Harry’s head came up in horror. “To Gryffindor for having the courage to tell him off when it was justified.” Albus Dumbledore smiled at the look of astonishment on Harry’s face. “You must have made your point.”

“He said something about not being obligated to me, Professor.” Harry said uncomfortably. “I just told him he didn’t owe me anything, that it wasn’t anything personal, it was just that saving people thing I have.” Harry pushed the half eaten bowl away, his appetite gone again. A hand on his arm stopped him from pushing the tray away.

“Harry, do you know why you do that?” Dumbledore pinned Harry with a piercing blue gaze. “Love, Harry, the same love that filled your heart and repelled Voldemort in June; a pure love that fills you so full that it doesn’t matter who needs the help, or even if you like them or not.” A deep look of pride sparkled in the blue eyes. “Your mother’s legacy, I believe, this deep, enduring kind of pure love, and it is truly one of your greatest strengths.”

Dumbledore looked over Harry’s shoulder. “Ah, Poppy, there you are, with Harry’s the potion, no doubt.”