Harry fidgeted nervously as he waited outside the door to Snape's office.

It had not been a good night.

He'd woken up before dawn from a very unpleasant vision of Voldemort, feeling the mild ache from the Cruciatus curses the Dark Lord had thrown at Wormtail and another Death Eater. He'd immediately opened the box Snape had given him yesterday morning and drunk the contents of one of the phials, letting the warmth chase away that peculiar, unpleasant chill that he got from the vision-curses.

He'd been unable to sleep after that; he would have only had nightmares about the woman and children Lucius Malfoy had brought to the meeting, and what the Death Eaters had done to them.

Well, most of the Death Eaters, anyway. Snape had just stood outside the circle and watched, the white mask concealing his expression.

It was a bit weird, Harry thought, that he always seemed to be able to recognize Snape in the visions, even if the Potions master neither moved nor talked. Maybe it was all the practice he'd had, keeping an eye on Snape for one reason or another over the past four years...

Well, whatever it was that let him recognize the Potions master, it didn't extend to the ability to know what it was he felt about what Voldemort, Malfoy, and the other Death Eaters had done.

The question was, did he really want to know what Snape had thought about it? And the problem was that Harry wasn't sure. If Snape hadn't been affected by what--

"Well, Potter? Are you going to stand out here all day, or do you actually intend to grace me with your presence?"

Harry flushed as he realized that he'd been so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed Snape open the door. "Sorry, sir," he muttered, knowing better than to react to the sarcasm. "I just... didn't want to disturb you if you were working..."

Snape simply looked at him for a moment, and then gestured for him to enter. "At least you were prompt," the professor commented coolly. "Do you have your list?"

"Yes, sir," Harry replied, handing the roll of parchment to Snape as he entered.

The Potions master nodded, and then opened the scroll and quickly skimmed through it. Harry shifted his book bag to his other arm, waiting.

After about a minute of silence, Snape looked up from the scroll, directly at him, and raised his eyebrows. "Sit down, Potter," he ordered curtly.

Harry silently sat down in one of the two chairs facing Snape's desk, and couldn't help but wonder if Snape would tell him what he'd done in the hospital wing yesterday.

Before he had a chance to ask again, however, Snape sat down behind the desk, putting the scroll to one side.

"I'm pleased to see that you took the trouble to actually think about the assignment," he said, and Harry blinked in surprise. That had been, at the very least, almost a compliment. Certainly it was more of a compliment than anything Snape had ever said to him before. "Now, why did I tell you to do this?"

Harry felt surprised again, as well as more than a bit bewildered. "Sir?"

There was a flicker of irritation on Snape's face. "It's a very simple question, Potter. I want you to tell me why I told you to write out this list."

He didn't think Snape wanted the obvious answer - or, at least that wasn't the only answer he wanted. "To see if I could think of ways to use the less obvious spells in Defence situations, as well as to get a list of which ones I know so that you can teach me others."

For the second time in less than a week, Harry saw a surprising expression on Snape's face directed toward him. The Potions master actually looked somewhat pleased with Harry's answer - and it wasn't the vicious pleasure he normally displayed when he was about to cut Harry down. "Correct.

"As I told you on Saturday, we will be dealing - for the most part - with the theory behind Defence for the next week, in order to give you a chance to finish recovering, and at the same time providing you with a basic framework for the practical lessons that will follow." Snape paused and studied him for a moment before continuing. "Understand this from the outset, Potter: these tutorials are not academic. They are not geared to help you pass your tests and your O.W.Ls. They are solely for the purpose of teaching you how to be better able to defend yourself.

"As a result, none of the work you do will be graded. What you get out of these lessons will be commensurate with what you put in to them. I will not force you to make an effort, as there is no point to that - it is entirely up to you what you do. However, I will warn you now: I expect you to do your best. If I believe that you are skiving off, I will cease these lessons immediately. Is that clear?"

Harry swallowed and then nodded. "Clear, sir."

"Good." Snape steepled his hands in front of his face, his elbows resting on the top of his desk. "Now, you understand why I gave you that assignment yesterday. Do you have any questions about it?"

Harry hesitated for a moment, and then decided to plunge ahead. "Not about the assignment, but..."

"Go on, Potter. As I said, you will get out what you put in. I expect you to ask questions," Snape said firmly, looking almost... exasperated as he spoke.

Well, here goes nothing. I just hope he actually answers me this time... "What did you do yesterday, sir?"

Snape leaned back in his chair and studied Harry for a long moment. "Let no one ever accuse you of not being persistent, Mr. Potter," he commented.

Harry wasn't sure whether that could be considered a compliment or not, but at least it wasn't an outright refusal to answer. Though that didn't necessarily mean much...

"As it happens, that is one of the matters I intended us to discuss in this lesson. Before I say anything about it, however, I must have your word - your sworn oath, Mr. Potter - that you will not discuss what I am about to tell you with anyone. This includes Black and those two sidekicks of yours." The last sentence was said in a rather disdainful tone, and Harry thought he saw a flicker of something like rage in Snape's eyes when he mentioned Sirius.

Harry frowned, unable to keep the defiance he was feeling off his face. "I trust them, Professor. They wouldn't tell--"

He broke off. Snape's eyes were glittering with a look of utter fury that Harry had seen only once before - in the Shrieking Shack, at the end of his third year. He found himself shrinking involuntarily back in his chair as Snape leaned forward.

"Listen to me very, very carefully, Potter," Snape said coldly. His voice was soft, almost a whisper, but the sheer intensity of the emotion it contained made it more terrifying than a shout. "You have seen what Voldemort does to his Death Eaters when they displease him; and you have seen what he does to Muggles and Muggle-borns for entertainment, and to satisfy his craving for revenge. What he does when he wants information from people is a hundred times worse - and it has never yet failed to gain him what he wants.

"When you told Weasley and Granger that I was a spy, you put my life in their hands."

One part of Harry's mind wondered how Snape had known that he'd told them - or, for that matter, how Snape had known that he definitely knew - but most of his attention was riveted by Snape's words and voice as he continued.

"That is bad enough - but it is inevitable that sooner or later Voldemort will discover the truth and come after me as a traitor. What you are asking me to tell you now, however, is something that could easily prove to be more dangerous than that for the both of us if Voldemort received even the slightest hint of the possibility. And even Hogwarts is not entirely safe, as you know. The only other person who knows of this is the headmaster."

The fury in Snape's expression had eased somewhat by the time he finished this explanation, but the intensity of his gaze had not. "Therefore, unless and until I have your word not to speak of it to anyone, you will have to remain in ignorance." He sat back in his chair again.

Released from the intensity Snape had focused on him, Harry thought carefully about what the Potions master had said. The idea that Ron or Hermione - or himself, for that matter - could betray Snape as a spy had never consciously hit him before.

It was almost enough to douse his curiosity - almost, but not quite. Snape had said that whatever this secret was, it would affect the both of them.

The question then became: could he keep it a secret from Ron and Hermione, if Snape told him? They'd always shared pretty much everything, right from Hallowe'en of first year, with the exception of last year before the First Task, when Ron had been acting like a total prat - and they'd made up, afterwards. What would it do to their friendship if Harry kept something a secret from them?

But this had to do with him, and quite possibly with the secrets that Dumbledore had consistently refused to talk to him about.

What other choice did he have?

"I give you my word I won't talk to anyone else about it, Professor," Harry said firmly.

Snape inclined his head slightly. "Very well, Mr. Potter." He steepled his fingers again.

"As I am sure you are aware, there are... abilities... that not every witch or wizard is born with, but that show up occasionally. A strong ability to do wandless magic is one. Another is the ability to understand and speak Parseltongue. So is the ability to become an Animagus. There are numerous others."

Harry nodded in understanding, but he couldn't help but wonder what that had to do with the probing sensation he'd felt.

"One such talent, or gift, is the ability to sense what is known as the 'flow of magic'," Snape continued. "It is unusual, though not as rare as being a Parselmouth, and is commonly known as the Sensitive's gift.

"The Sensitive's gift is not attached to any specific bloodline; nor does it show up only in powerful wizards. It is just as possible for someone who is nearly a squib to be a Sensitive as it is for someone with Dumbledore's power.

"The gift has many different applications, but for the moment we will only concentrate on two. The first, and most commonly known, is that because Sensitives can sense magic directly, once they have been trained they can do anything with wandless magic that they can do using a wand. The second is that Sensitives can detect when magic has been twisted out of true."

Comprehension dawned as Harry remembered Snape's description of the effects of the Cruciatus curse. "So... you're a Sensitive, and you were checking to see that the Levatio Potion worked!" he concluded.

"A reasonable conclusion," Snape acknowledged. High praise indeed, from the Head of Slytherin. "There is more, however."

Well, there would have to be - Snape still hadn't explained how this applied to Harry.

"You felt the scans I did both Friday night and yesterday, you said."

"Yes, sir," Harry replied. "I've never felt anything like that before..."

"Not surprising," Snape replied coolly. "It is something that can only be done by a trained Sensitive, and I am currently the only one in the British Isles and Continental Europe."

"What about Professor Dumbledore?" Harry asked.

Snape shook his head. "The headmaster has a very powerful ability to do wandless magic - stronger than anyone else I've ever met - but he is not a Sensitive." Snape looked directly at him. "He does, however, have an excellent instinct for identifying Sensitives - or rather, people who have the potential to become Sensitives."

Harry almost groaned as the meaning behind Snape's statement sank in. Bloody wonderful - that's all I need. Another difference.

It was obvious that Snape knew Harry had realized what he meant, although Harry couldn't tell whether or not he'd also noticed his actual reaction to the news. "Only another Sensitive could have felt my scan. Dumbledore has never been able to, even when he knew I was doing it.

"Under ordinary circumstances, no one would be able to tell for certain that you have the Sensitive's gift until you reached about twenty - that tends to be when the gift reaches full power - and even then, it requires specialized knowledge to recognize. However, Dumbledore has suspected that you have the gift since an incident before your third year," Harry flushed at the memory of what he'd done to Aunt Marge, "and it was decided that I would attempt to confirm it."

"Why?" Harry asked.

Irritation flickered across Snape's face again - or maybe it was exasperation. "Potter. Voldemort wants to kill you. You are fifteen years old, and you currently have neither the training nor the power to match him alone - particularly as the protection your mother's sacrifice left with you was negated by the method of Voldemort's resurrection. The simple fact is that you need all the advantages you can get, and the Sensitive's gift - as long as you are trained to use it - can prove to be a tremendous advantage. Not to mention the fact that untrained, it has the potential to become a serious liability."

"But... I thought you said it doesn't manifest until the person turns twenty--" Harry began.

"What I said was that it cannot be detected - at least not by anyone who is not themselves a Sensitive - before about the age of twenty, and that it doesn't reach full power until that time," Snape replied.

Okay... definitely irritation.

"You've had the gift since you were born, and - like your regular magic - it can be trained before it reaches full strength. Your practical lessons will incorporate training in using your gift.

"Now," he continued, leaning back in his chair again, "you have read the books I've given you, and you have had four years of Defence lessons, of varying quality. Tell me, Mr. Potter... what is Defence Against the Dark Arts?"

Harry blinked in confusion at the abrupt change of subject, even more puzzled by this question than he had been by the one about the reasons for yesterday's assignment.

"Come, Potter; do you mean to tell me that after four years of a class, you can't tell me what the subject means?" Snape questioned, his tone rich with the contempt that was so familiar from Potions classes.

"Learning to protect against the Dark Arts," Harry blurted out.

Snape raised his eyebrow. "A meaningless definition, Potter. Protect against, defend against - they are synonymous. What does it mean?"

Bloody-- what am I supposed to say? Harry was starting to get frustrated.

"Well, Potter? I'm waiting. You do so well in Defence Against the Dark Arts - one would think that you would, at the very least, be able to explain it to me." Snape appeared to be... almost amused by his frustration, which only served to increase it.

Harry knew he shouldn't let Snape get to him, and ordinarily he wouldn't have - not this soon, at least - but the sarcasm was grating on him. "I told you, protection against the Dark Arts!"

Snape shook his head. "Not satisfactory, Mr. Potter. I want a definition, not a re-wording." He looked at Harry for a moment, and Harry felt his frustration level increase even further.

Then Snape gave a sharp nod and continued, "Very well, Potter - try this one. Why can't you answer my question?"

Harry blinked, his frustration abruptly curtailed by the suddenly calm tone. Where was Snape going with this? "I don't know," he admitted reluctantly.

"Why did Dumbledore insist that Moody - Crouch - demonstrate the Unforgivables to you, and use the Imperius curse?"

"So that we would understand what they were, and how to fight off the Imperius," Harry replied immediately.

"In other words, in order to defend yourself against the Unforgivables, you had to understand what they were," Snape commented.

Harry nodded, and then his eyes widened as he suddenly understood what the Potions master was getting at. "And that's why I was having trouble with the question, because I was concentrating on the Defence part."

"Now that you recognize that, try again. What is Defence Against the Dark Arts?"

Harry frowned. "Learning to defend ourselves against Dark Creatures, and Dark Witches and Wizards," he replied after a moment.

Snape was starting to look irritated again. "What makes a witch or a wizard Dark?"

"They're evil," Harry replied confidently.

"Merlin spare me from Gryffindors," Snape muttered under his breath, though Harry had the distinct feeling that the Potions master had intended for him to hear it. "I could dispute that, but I won't at the moment. Try again, Potter: what causes a witch or wizard to be classified as Dark?"

Harry had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he realized what the answer was. "Their... use of the Dark Arts."

"Once again, we appear to have come in a circle." Snape gave him a contemptuous look. "Let us try one more time. What are the Dark Arts, Mr. Potter?"

Harry thought carefully; the way Snape was leading him around was making him feel stupid, something he'd never liked - especially not when it was Snape doing it. He wasn't interested in continuing the game any longer - which meant that he had better get the right answer this time.

"We don't have all day, Potter," the Potions master said - obviously still irritated. He started to tap his fingers against his desk.

Harry did his best not to let the sound distract him as he tried to work it out. "The Dark Arts involves using magic to hurt someone else," he said finally.

"'Hurt' is not the best way to put it; there are times when people have to be hurt in order to get better. Skele-Gro, for example, involves a potion that is rather painful for the patient, but the ultimate results are beneficial," Snape said. A rather amused look crossed his face when Harry gave a shudder of distaste at the mention of Skele-Gro. "A more appropriate term would be 'harm'. An Imperius curse, for example, does not hurt someone directly - in fact, they feel rather relaxed and pleased while the Imperius lasts - but it definitely harms them."

Harry nodded in understanding. "So, Defence Against the Dark Arts would be defined as learning to protect ourselves against magic that is used to cause harm. And Dark Creatures, of course..."

Snape inclined his head slightly. "That definition - while very basic and not entirely accurate, as well as not incorporating everything the Ministry considers Dark - is a good starting point for understanding and really should be the very first thing taught to first-years; you can't build a true foundation unless you understand what it is you're doing. Which means that for Defence Against the Dark Arts, you need to understand what the Dark Arts are before you can start defending against them...

"Mr. Potter, why aren't you writing this down? I didn't tell you to bring parchment simply to hear myself talk!"

Harry flushed bright red in mingled anger and bewilderment at the sudden reprimand as he opened his bag, pulled out several pieces of parchment, and wrote down the definition. Snape hadn't said that he was supposed to be taking notes during their current discussion...

Then again, he probably should have anticipated it.

"All right, now that we have a general definition for Dark Arts, we are going to go over your spell list, and you are going to explain to me why each spell is not considered to belong to the Dark Arts; and if there are any circumstances you can think of under which it would be considered a Dark Art, and why, according to your definition. The first one on the list is the Impediment Jinx."

Harry stared at Snape in dismay, but the Potions master simply raised one eyebrow. "Well, Potter? I'm waiting..."

"That will be all for today, Mr. Potter," he said coolly. "Your assignment tonight is to write an analysis of what we discussed this afternoon about Defence and the Dark Arts. You may have the morning free, but you are to remain within the school walls - no roaming outside. I will see you tomorrow afternoon at one o'clock precisely."

With that, Snape made a point of opening the drawer of his desk and taking out his lesson plans for September.

After about a minute and a half, not having heard his office door open, much less close behind the boy, Snape looked back up... to see Potter standing right in front of his desk, uncertainty clear on his face.

"I said: that will be all, Potter," he repeated irritably.

Potter shifted uncomfortably; and then a flicker of resolution crossed his face and he blurted out, "What did Malfoy take from those caches the Ministry seized?"

Snape froze. Oh, blessed Merlin...

He really had been hoping that the boy hadn't seen last night's meeting. After all, Dumbledore had said that he didn't see all of them...

"You saw what happened last night," he said flatly.

Potter nodded. "Yes, sir." His voice was quiet, almost frightened. "I saw... all of it."

Which meant that he'd also seen what had happened to the Muggles. Snape rubbed his hand across the bridge of his nose. "Sit down, Potter."

The boy immediately sat and pulled his chair a bit closer to Snape's desk.

"All of it," Snape repeated.

Potter nodded, looking... sick. Not surprising - Snape felt sick, thinking about what had happened; especially the thought that the fifteen year old had been forced to see it. "I... everything that Voldemort saw," he replied, his voice still quiet. "I woke up right after Malfoy left. They're dead, aren't they." It was a statement, not a question.

Snape closed his eyes for a moment, and then opened them again, fixing his gaze on the boy's face. "Yes, they're dead," he replied, making his voice a bit softer than normal. "They were dead the moment Malfoy took them; it was just a matter of when and how."

He couldn't believe he'd just said that. Potter was still only a boy - he shouldn't have to deal with the harsh realities of war just yet...

Unfortunately, 'should' and 'shouldn't' didn't enter into it - not when dealing with this particular boy.

"I know." Potter was still being quiet. "After what Voldemort did to those three families..." He shuddered, then took a deep breath and seemed to refocus. "What about those caches?"

He was going to have to talk to Dumbledore, Snape realized. He had no idea how to help the boy deal with what he was seeing, but the headmaster would know. For now, however, he accepted the change of subject. "Any information on that will have to come from Professor Dumbledore, Potter," he replied. He had little doubt that Dumbledore would tell the boy, assuming he was asked, but Snape had no intention of doing so. "I have already sent a report to him; if you wish to send him a report of your own, I will forward it on. Otherwise, it will have to wait until he returns."

Potter looked irritated - most likely because Snape refused to explain the issue of the caches - but nodded reluctantly.

"Did you take a dose of Levatio when you woke up?" Snape continued.

Potter slouched in his chair, looking sulky, but nodded again. "Yes. It wasn't that bad this time."

"No, I daresay it wasn't," Snape replied, as he stood up and walked around his desk to stand next to the boy's chair. "Only Wormtail and Parkinson made him angry last night."

Potter's eyes glittered a hard emerald for a moment. "Wormtail always makes him angry."

"Yes, it does seem that way," Snape replied, keeping his tone casual.

Not that he liked Pettigrew any better than the boy. The rat had caused him to look like a fool in front of Dumbledore, and even worse, had caused the deaths of Potter's parents: a woman Snape had respected and considered a friendly acquaintance - though he'd never tell Potter that; and a man to whom - although Snape had hated him, with good reason - he'd owed a wizard's debt, however much certain other Marauders might have been to blame for the incident... However, he wasn't sure he liked the flicker of rage in Potter's expression at the mention of the Gryffindor traitor. He'd have to keep a close eye on that.

"Now, stay still - and pay close attention to what you sense while I scan you," he ordered, placing one hand on the boy's head, in order to do yet another scan.

There was no sign of any more twisted magic in Potter's system; a very good thing. Snape had no desire to deal with a repeat of the events of this past weekend.

As soon as he finished, he removed his hand, and then studied Potter's face. The boy wore a thoughtful expression, and his eyes seemed distant for a moment, before he refocused on Snape.

"That was... weird," Potter murmured. "I think I felt the probing better, this time. It was more..." He frowned, obviously trying to think of the appropriate word. "More... distinct."

Snape gave him a curt nod. "Good. Now, I believe you have some work to do."

"Yes, sir." Potter stood up and headed for the door, and Snape returned to his desk.

"Potter," he said a moment later, just before the boy opened the door, "a few things you should be aware of. First of all, your things should have been taken up to Gryffindor Tower by now; the password is 'Godric's Sword'. Secondly, you will only need your assignment, parchment for notes, and 101 Useful Potions for Dark Situations tomorrow.

"Third..." Snape met Potter's eyes, forcing the boy to pay close attention. "Black and Lupin, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, and Mr. Weasley's parents are the only ones who have been told that you are staying here. No one else is to know, as per the headmaster's orders; not even the rest of Mr. Weasley's family."

Potter opened his mouth - to protest, most likely - and Snape held up one hand in an unmistakable order. "The same thing that applies to my duties for him applies to your safety; and not just yours, but theirs as well. You've seen what Voldemort is like, what he has been doing. What you may not yet realize is that his obsession with capturing you is as powerful now as his desire to control our world. If he were to discover that anyone outside of Dumbledore knows where you are, now that you are no longer with your Muggle relatives, he would go after them. All it would take would be one slip to the wrong person." Snape shook his head. "The headmaster has good reasons for this, Potter, and he has made it an order. There are no restrictions on your mail, but you must not reveal where you are."

Potter nodded reluctantly.

"And Potter... these lessons fall under the same restrictions as any mention of the Sensitive gift. You are to speak of them to no one else."

For a moment, Snape thought the boy would object, but he'd obviously learned his lesson after his first two protests. Instead, he simply nodded again.

"And lastly," Snape continued, keeping his eyes fixed on Potter's, "the next time you have a vision, I expect to be informed - first thing in the morning. Is that understood?"

"Understood, sir," Potter replied after a moment.

"Very well. That will be all, Mr. Potter."

As soon as Snape lowered his eyes back to his lesson plans, he heard the boy hurry out the door - not running, but walking quickly.

He waited another minute or two, and then pushed the lesson plans - which had been completed the first week of July - to one side, and leaned back in his chair.

It had been a very interesting three hours.

As Snape had said to the boy at the start of the lesson, it had been obvious from what he'd written that he'd taken the time to actually think about the assignment, which boded reasonably well for the rest of these tutorial sessions he'd volunteered himself for. So did the events of this session. Once he'd moved past his original frustration over Snape's question about the definition of 'Defence Against the Dark Arts', Potter had proven that he could think, when he took the time to; and - perhaps even more importantly - that he could think creatively. The problem was that he seemed to do so only when prompted.

These sessions would change that. Snape was determined that by the time September first came around, he would have taught Potter to think - and think creatively, even if not entirely like a Slytherin - at all times. It would be that, even more than knowing and practising more spells, that would help him survive whatever Voldemort might throw at him.

After four years of attempting to teach the boy Potions, Snape had no doubt that it would be difficult - but the lesson they'd just had proved that it wouldn't be impossible. And the fact that Potter was evidently interested in these lessons would make it somewhat easier.

He was surprised to find himself actually looking forward to tomorrow's session.

Gryffindor Tower seemed strangely empty - Harry wasn't used to being entirely alone there. And even the few times he had been, there had still been the other Gyffindors' things around, at least. Not this time, however. Aside from himself, his trunk, and his gifts, the entire Tower was deserted. It was almost... eerie, and Harry couldn't help but feel a bit uncomfortable as he unpacked his trunk.

Then, sitting down on his bed, Harry determinedly pushed the feeling out of his mind for the moment - along with the questions the discussion with Snape had raised - and turned his attention to the letters he'd received with his presents.

Pulling them out, he began answering them. He wished that he could let the rest of the Weasleys know where he was, but - reluctant as he was to admit it - Snape had a good point; and it was at Dumbledore's orders...

First was the response to the Weasley twins. Harry re-read their letter to him, and grinned at the bit about the 'great family mystery'.

Fred & George,

Thank you very much for the samples! I can't wait 'til school starts and I can use them...

I'm glad you two are keeping the secret - I have no desire to find out what your mum's reaction to me giving you the money would be. So, come on, give - what sort of ideas have Ron and the others come up with? I could use a laugh or two!

Speaking of your mum, Ron said that she seems to have given up on trying to convince you not to do the joke shop. How'd that happen?

As for Ron's dress robes... Brown, I think, would work well. You'll have to tell me about his reaction to receiving them (I don't think I'm going to be allowed to come visit you guys this summer).

Thanks again, and I look forward to seeing you guys once school starts!

-- Harry

Hermione,

First of all, thank you very much for the practice kit and the signed photo, and please say thank you to Viktor for me. I'm glad you had a good time in Bulgaria...

Things haven't been going that badly, actually. By now, you know that I'm at Hogwarts (has Ron told you it has to stay a secret?). It wasn't because of the Dursleys, so don't worry on that score.

As for the visions... Yes, I have had some - more than over the past year. I've owled Professor Dumbledore each time; and it's that, more than anything else, which is the reason I'm here at school for the rest of the summer.

I wish you could come visit - do you know that even Madam Pince is on vacation? Unfortunately, Filch is still here, so I don't exactly have absolutely free run of the school, and I doubt I'd be able to get into the Restricted Section...

As for Snuffles, he's apparently now with Professor Lupin, which makes me think that he's done what Dumbledore asked him to do. Remember, Dumbledore told him to lie low at Lupin's once he was finished?

And about my homework... yes, Hermione, I have been doing it. I've finished my Transfiguration and History of Magic essays; and now that I'm here at Hogwarts - and so I don't have to hide what I'm doing - I should be able to finish the others before the start of school. (Let me guess - you're done, right? And as for Potions... maybe. I don't think I'm up for asking Snape, though.)

I'm going to send this with one of the school owls so that you can write back to me... I'm scared I'll go crazy with boredom otherwise!

So, besides wizarding museums, what else did you do in Bulgaria?

-- Harry

However, Dumbledore had told him to obey Snape the same as he would the headmaster. The Potions master had been so firm about the need to keep the Sensitive's gift a secret, and the way he'd looked at Harry just before dismissing him...

No, he wasn't about to go against Snape's orders.

The next letter up was Ron's - both of them.

Ron,

First of all, thanks for the book. I've managed to read most of it so far, and it seems really interesting. I'll look forward to our next match! Maybe this time I'll manage to last more than fifteen minutes against you...

Secondly, thanks for asking Dumbledore if you and Hermione could visit. I'd really like it if you could, but Dumbledore was very firm about it... and he said he'd be telling your parents that you can't come.

About Fred and George... I don't know. Have you tried actually asking them? How do you think they got the money? After all, Bagman obviously couldn't pay them...

I don't know what your dad's doing, either. He might be helping Dumbledore deal with the Ministry, considering what Fudge said; after all, surely not all of them are as idiotic as the Minister.

Snuffles is apparently doing well - he's at Professor Lupin's, and Lupin says that he's been eating better than he was last year.

As for why I'm here... It has to do with the visions. I've been having a lot more recently.

Say hi to everyone for me (tell your mum I love the jumper), and feel free to write back. (After all, the Dursleys can't forbid me to get mail now that I'm back here at Hogwarts, can they?)

-- Harry

With a silent sigh, Harry picked up the letter from Lupin and Sirius next. I'll write them each a separate letter, he decided, after a moment's thought. After all, they had each given him a separate present.

Professor Lupin,

Thank you very much for the safe-box. You're right - I never saw one before. It's really cool!

I'm glad to hear that Snuffles is doing well; I've also let Ron and Hermione know that. They were asking about him.

You've met Aunt Petunia?

-- Harry

Snuffles,

Thank you. Professor Dumbledore gave me Dad's Invisibility Cloak, and Hagrid gave me a bunch of pictures of Mum and Dad, but I've never really had anything of Mum's before. I absolutely love it. I gather she was in Gryffindor as well? (The colours gave it away.)

Professor Lupin said that you're doing well. I'm glad to hear that; Ron and Hermione will be as well.

So, what have you been doing?

I look forward to seeing you soon.

-- Harry

Hedwig hooted softly, and then pointed one foot at the other three letters he held.

"Sorry, Hedwig," Harry apologized, "but I can't ask you to deliver all of them. I'm sending the others with some of the school owls."

Hedwig snapped her beak irritably at him, but accepted the owl treat he handed her before flying off - which, Harry knew, meant that she understood, but still wasn't happy about it.

He then handed the other letters to two other owls, and sent them off to Hermione and Lupin and Sirius.

Okay, that's the letters done. Now all I have to do is write that analysis Snape wants. Harry frowned thoughtfully as he headed out of the Owlery, back toward the Gryffindor Tower. He didn't say how long it had to be. That's not like Snape... usually he'd say that it's got to be something like four feet or approaching that. Of course, he also said that this wasn't 'school-work', per se...

Still wondering about it, he stopped outside the kitchen and poked his head in. "Is Dobby around?" he asked the closest house-elf.

"Dobby is here, Harry Potter, sir." Dobby appeared from the middle of the group of house-elves. "What is Harry Potter sir wanting?"

"I was just wondering when dinner is," Harry replied. It was almost five o'clock, and Harry didn't even know whether he was supposed to eat in the Great Hall, now that he was out of the hospital wing. "And where it is."

"Harry Potter sir can have dinner whenever he wants, and dinner can be served anywhere Harry Potter wants," Dobby replied brightly.

Harry thought for a moment. "All right, Dobby. In that case, could I please have dinner in about an hour and a half, in the Gryffindor common room?" That would give him time to get started on his assignment for Snape. And he was definitely relieved that he wouldn't have to eat in the Great Hall - not when the only other living humans at Hogwarts were Snape and Filch.

"Dobby is happy to bring Harry Potter sir his dinner then," Dobby declared.

"Thanks, Dobby," Harry replied, and then slipped out to head back to his dorm, and the work that awaited him. He had a feeling that he was going to spend the rest of the evening working on getting it done.