Harry’s days went in a bit of blur. He found himself constantly outside, sitting on the boulder by the lake, trying to make sense of things but never getting anywhere. After a while, he realized that when he was distracted, he seemed to feel better. So he found himself working harder at Quidditch and wasting his time on homework or playing wizard’s chess.

The first Tuesday he had with Remedial Potions was a disaster. Harry’s potion, though halfway decent, wasn’t good enough to even be considered by Snape. In the end, the whole session was horrid. Harry figured he was lucky to get out of there with House Points still in the hourglass.

At first, Harry was heading to go back outside when he found himself detouring to the library instead. The library was crammed full of fifth years, all scrambling to do their piles of homework. Harry found himself sympathetic with them.

He nodded at the ones who greeted him, which Harry had the suspicion was almost everyone in there. But he didn’t mind, for once, probably because he was in there for a reason. Nodding at a third year Ravenclaw, Harry walked down a row of books, his fingers stumbling over their binds.

He wasn’t sure if he’d find it, but he wanted too. The farther back he got, the more wheezy the books seemed to be. He randomly picked up books, scanned them, and found that they weren’t what he was looking for and shoved them back into place.

After a while, Harry was just about to give up, when he picked up a book and found to his relief that it was the one he as looking for. Scanning through the spells, Harry realized the spells were terribly hard. It would take him a while to learn them.

His trek back through the library wasn’t quite as slow as it was before. And back in the common room, Harry found Hermione and Ron gone on Prefect duty, and Neville still away with Madame Pomfrey.

Yet, he didn’t mind. He ran upstairs, grabbed the knife Sirius gave him, the one that unlocked any lock, but instead he was using it for something different.

He grabbed a wooden box, one he had ordered via owl and without much thought to anything else, began to carve into the lid.

Harry wasn’t great at carving, he hadn’t really done it before, but he found himself working with it at times. Mostly when he had been bored and under the cupboard under the stairs. He stole a kitchen knife and carved into the wall. He found he wasn’t bad.

He hadn’t carved in a while, but he found a sudden urge too. A way to distract himself. The book was a book on the muggle way of carving, if he needed it, and then some very complicated spells on making the carving move (if he wanted too), or to start over if he messed up.

Sirius’s knife, sharp and charmed a bit to unlock anything, made a great carving knife. Harry found, if he could pull it off, he could make very fine details.

He wasn’t sure how long he carved, but he did, engraving finely into wooden box’s lid. After a while, he heard the footsteps of the others coming up to the room, and he put everything up, hurriedly. He wasn’t sure if he wanted them to see what he was doing. They’d probably think he was mad, seeing as he could easily do with magic but he was doing it the muggle way.

Yet, Harry found it relieving to do it the muggle way. It took his mind off everything he seemed to be confused and caught up in. He felt oddly at peace, but not in the bad way, where he just became oblivious to everything, it was like he found a way of doing something that allowed him to just be himself, at the current moment at least.

“You okay, mate?” Ron asked as he walked in. “Snape try and kill you?” He laughed.

“Almost, I think.” Harry responded sheepishly as he flopped into bed.

“Don’t worry, mate,” Ron smiled. “It won’t be forever.”

Harry found himself walking back into the castle one day, after spent a while by the lake carving, when Ginny came out of the Great Hall.

“Hey, Harry, Whatcha doing here?” she asked and Harry looked at her startled.

“Walking,” Harry commented causing Ginny to scowl.

“Yes, I noticed.” Ginny said darkly. “But do you realize it’s Tuesday?” Harry’s eyes went wide.

“What time is it?” Harry demanded.

“Eight oh five,” Ginny informed.

“Bloody hell!” Harry cried out and he took off running. He skidded to a halt outside of Snape’s classroom door seconds later.

“You’re late,” Snape snapped as soon as Harry entered. “What’s your excuse, because I’m doing this on my own time Potter? If you don’t want to be here, then tell me. I have several better things to do, rather then spend my time teaching you how to do potions when you’re in an un-required N.E.W.T. level class!” Snape glared at Harry, leaning over his desk daringly.

“I—I,” excuses ran through Harry’s head. All more far-fetched then the last. “I forgot,” he finally stated truthfully. What did he care if Snape stopped teaching him Remedial Potions? He didn’t want to be an Auror anymore, he was sick of fighting. He had come to that conclusion when Ron declared himself no longer wanting to be an Auror. But Ron could get out of it, Harry couldn’t. Everyone expected him to an Auror.

So, what better way to get out of it, then to get kicked out Potions.

“Five points from Gryffindor, for your forgetfulness.” Snape snarled. “Now, set up your cauldron. But believe me, I would love to kick you out of Potions, but this was McGonagall’s idea.” Harry, a bit in disappointment and a bit startled, gathered up his cauldron and ingredients.

“Now, it’s obvious that you understand the ingredients, but that doesn’t make a difference if you don’t understand how to use them in the potion.” Snape lectured as he observed Harry starting. “Think of it this way, Potter, the potion is a spell, or curse that you’ve got to break through.” Harry froze. He didn’t know did he? “You go through stages,” Snape continued. “To break a spell, or curse, you take it slowly, doing this at this certain time and that at that certain time. A potion is much like that. You add the ingredients then and there because that’s their stage.”

Snape turned around and went to his own potion that he was working on. Harry eyed him warily before turning back to his own potion. What Snape said, it made more sense then anything Harry had thought about before. And it seemed to be working.

As Harry imagined the potion as a curse he was trying to break, the Potion seemed to follow his lead. For once, Harry knew what the hell he was doing.

They worked in silence, for a longer time then the last Remedial Potion session, and every now and then Harry glanced up to see what Snape was working on. But Harry couldn’t place the potion.

Finally, after what seemed hours, Snape walked over and looked carefully at Harry’s potion. Harry glanced down and found that it was actually right.

“It’s Acceptable Potter, but you need to keep working.” Snape declared. “On Thursdays I’ve been requested to help restock the potions for Poppy. She’s running low. Every other Thursday you will report here and help. You just need to practice Potter. Dismissed.” Snape ordered.

Harry left a bit startled. He came in with the chance of didn’t kicked out of the Potions for good and left with extra sessions. “Great,” he muttered, as he rubbed his neck. It was hurting a bit from craning so much over his carving.

His trick step was acting up a bit, so much indeed that Harry was tempted just to have Madame Pomfrey reset it the muggle way. Then again, he wasn’t sure he wanted to re-break his leg. If it was a muggle way, then Madame Pomfrey more then likely didn’t know how to do it properly and who knows what will happen then.

The Common Room was packed when Harry entered. He looked around and found Ginny, Neville, Ron and Hermione, crammed into a corner.

“Hey, guys, why’s it so packed in here?” Harry asked wonderingly.

“Madame Price had a fit and kicked everyone out of the library,” Ron informed, smiling stupidly.

“How was your session?” Hermione asked and Harry rolled his eyes.

“First, I’m almost kicked out of Potions for good, and then I end up getting more sessions. Thursdays, every other week.” Harry moaned as he sat down with a flop. Ron looked stricken, Neville was horrified, while Hermione had a look that said it was all for the best.

“When’s the next Hogsmead weekend?” Ron finally asked.

“Not for a while,” Ginny commented sadly. Harry had pulled out his Transfiguration homework and was working on it slowly and listening as they all talked. “I’m not too sure why,” she continued. “We haven’t had one in a while.”

“They haven’t change the schedule from when Voldemort was a threat,” Hermione informed, making quite a lot of sense. Ron moaned slightly, obviously he wanted a Hogsmead weekend, just as badly as everyone else.

So, slowly, Harry’s life began to become routine.

Whenever he had free time, he found himself carving. On Mondays they had Quidditch practice, Tuesdays he had Remedial Potions, and Wednesdays were usually the DA meeting or just Quidditch practice. Thursdays, every other, he had Potions with Snape again, and Fridays varied.

However, Harry found it wasn’t that bad. And his carving was slowly drawing to a close. He wasn’t sure why he took on this project, the carving was turning out worse then he thought it would, but he still found himself working on it. He was already trying to learn the spell to erase the carving. It was harder then he thought.

A few weeks later, Harry was sitting on his bed, the carving before him, Sirius’s knife buried in the bed sheets and he was lost. He wanted to do something, but he had already finished the carving, and was sick of working on the erasing spell.

Glancing at the calendar, he found it was Thursday, not his average Thursday to go help Snape, but it was something to do. Hermione and Ron were layered with Perfect duties; Neville went ahead and went down to help Madame Pomfrey, even though it wasn’t his day. Sighing, Harry shrugged.

“It’s not like Snape will kill me or anything, and I could use something to do.” Harry muttered to himself. Jumping up from his bed, leaving everything where it was, Harry left the dormitory and made his way down to the dungeons.

“Harry!” Ginny cried out, trying to get Harry’s attention. “Do you know what happened to the sweets the twins sent?” she asked once she had attention in the middle of the Entrance Hall.

“Oh, Ron has them, on the nightstand beside his bed,” Harry said offhandedly and Ginny growled.

“Well, honestly!” she scowled and turned around, making a beeline for Ron’s Prefect route. Harry chuckled. Every since the beginning of the year, Harry, Ron and Ginny had all been selling Fred and George’s tricks. Flitch had banded all Wizard Wheezes, or at least anything in the catalog. But seeing as they got new tricks from Fred and George, not yet in the catalog, what they were doing wasn’t against the rules.

Harry found himself in front of Snape’s door in no time. Sighing, he knocked lightly.

“Enter,” Snape’s voice called out. “Mr. Potter?” Snape asked in disbelief. “It isn’t the right Thursday.” He commented as soon as Harry entered. Harry shrugged a bit.

“Just...erm—you need any help?” he finally asked.

“You must truly be bored,” Snape commented but gestured nonetheless for him to set up a cauldron. A thick silence fell between them.

“Is it true?” Snape finally asked. “McGonagall won’t stop talking about it, but has Mr. Weasley truly strayed from the path of being an Auror?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry breathed. He wanted to stray from that path too, not that he would say anything. “Wants to be either a professional Quidditch player or part of the Magical Reversal Squad.”

“He should try for both, if he leans more toward the Quidditch player idea.” Snape commented with an impassive voice.

“That’s what Hermione said,” Harry said and a silence fell between them. Harry had the impression Snape didn’t like being told he thought the same thing as Hermione.

“Tell me, what does our Miss Granger want to be?” Snape finally asked.

“She wants to go into the Protection of Magical Creatures Bureau,” Harry informed. Hermione had finally decided that that was what she was going to do, and had told everyone in their group. So, it was no longer a secret.

“Truly,” Snape seemed intrigued. Nothing much was said after that. Harry found he no longer nervous or annoyed when around Snape and his potion. It was easier, somehow, working next to Snape rather then having him breathing down his neck.

Then, suddenly, right as Harry was bottling one of his potions, the door burst open and in stumbled Ginny. Harry looked at her startled, Snape hardly reacted.

“There you are,” Ginny gasped, staring straight at Harry.

“Here I am,” Harry commented.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” Ginny continued as if Harry hadn’t spoken. “I went up to get the sweats back and I found it.” Harry raised an eyebrow. “How long have you been working on it?”

Harry started, she found his carving.

“I-I—err—you see—not long—err...” Harry found himself stuttering. Suddenly, he was very aware of Snape staring at him and Ginny too.

“How come I’ve never seen you working on it?” Ginny demanded, hands on her hips.

“You’re never around,” Harry muttered. “Listen, does it matter this much. Why’d you come looking for me...just because of it? How’d you know I here by the way?”

“Of course it matters!” Ginny snapped. “And I went to the last place most people wouldn’t check, I know how you work Mr. Potter. Now, why’d you work on it when I wasn’t around? Or do you mean no one was around?”

Harry was still very aware that Snape was still in the room.

“Err...” he began and beside him Snape straightened up.

“I need to get these to Poppy,” he declared. “I’ll just leave you two here to get over your spat, don’t ruin anything Potter.” Snape snapped as he billowed out of the room.

Ginny crossed her arms. “Why? Did you feel it was necessary to find it or something?”

“No,” Harry began sheepishly. “I was doing it the muggle way, and I figured you’d all think I was mental. It was just something I was doing anyway.” Harry said, waving his hand offhandedly.

“No, Harry, we wouldn’t think you were mental. It’s bloody brilliant,” she muttered. Digging into her bag, which was crammed full of fifth year books, she pulled out the wooden box. Harry glanced down at the carving and shrugged.

“It’s bad,” he muttered and Ginny laughed.

“Yeah right, and Snape can’t do Potions...Harry’s this is brilliant. I didn’t know you could carve.”

“I can’t; well not really, I use to carve when I was little. I carved on the walls in the cupboard under the stairs.” Harry set on the edge of a desk and Ginny did the same thing, the wooden box still in her hands.

On the cover, was a very detailed picture of Fawkes, Dumbledore’s phoenix. At the moment when Harry started, he hadn’t been sure what to carve, so he carved the first picture that came to mind. It was of Fawkes flying, as he had seen the bird do a few times.

“Is it charmed?” Ginny finally asked.

“No, should I charm it?” Harry asked offhandedly. “I know the spell.”

“No, I like it this way. I almost think it’s moving. You should keep doing this.” Ginny suggested and Harry shrugged. This was a weird conversation to have in a Potions Classroom. “Will you carve me one?”

Harry glanced up, wonderingly. “I’ll buy the wooden box and all. Can you carve anything?”

“Don’t guarantee that it’ll be any good, but yeah, I guess.” Harry muttered sheepishly.

“Do you remember that time when we were all just sitting in front of the lake, at the end of your third, my second, year. After we figured out the truth of Sirius and we were all content?” Harry nodded, he remembered that because they had all talked about what it would be like for Harry to leave the muggles. He found the memory pleasing.

“Can you carve that?” she asked and Harry shrugged. He wasn’t going to take the carving thing seriously, but he’d do it for Ginny. It was just a side, far side, hobby.

“Sure, just let’s keep it between us...for now.” Harry suggested and Ginny nodded in agreement.

“So, what did you talk about with Snape?” Ginny asked and Harry shrugged.

“Ron and Hermione’s jobs after Hogwarts...what do you want to become?” Harry asked, and for a minute the both forgot they where in Snape’s classroom in the dungeons.

“Either a Healer, not Herbalist though, or what Charlie does with dragons. Either way, I have to have potions and I’m not good at that.” Ginny sounded anxious. “What do you think?”

“Think you should do the dragon one, it’s much more you. Plus, Charlie can help you get started. I’m not sure what your mum will say though.” Harry laughed and Ginny nodded in agreement.

“I’ve been leaning more in that direction, but that means I’ll have to start trying harder in Potions and Care of Magical Creatures. I’m sorry, flobberworms are hard to take seriously.” Harry nodded in agreement. Hagrid had reached the area of flobberworms with fifth years. Sixth year class wasn’t much more fun either. “How ‘bout you? Do you want to still be an Auror?”

No one had asked Harry that question that way before. At first he opened his mouth to lie, but Ginny had told him the truth, so he should too. “No, not anymore. I’ve been thinking and I want to become a curse breaker for Gringotts, much like Bill.” Ginny looked startled. “But I’ll probably stick to being an Auror, that’s what everyone expects anyway.”

Ginny looked like she was about to say something when the door to the classroom opened and Snape walked in.

“Still here?” he asked in surprise.

“Err—just leaving,” Harry said, jumping to his feet. Snape watched him, then looked at Ginny, his eyes falling on the wooden box. Ginny must’ve followed his eyes because she thrust the box into Harry’s hands, instead of hiding it.

Harry shot Ginny a lot that said ‘I’ll get you for that’ and shoved the box into a large pocket of his robes. Snape stepped aside and let them pass by. He was eyeing Harry carefully, who in turn was carefully avoiding his gaze.

Ginny and Harry didn’t speak, though Ginny looked like she was going too, several times. But Harry took her off topic. Finally they met up with Neville and Luna, and walked to the library together.

Later that night, before Harry climbed the steps to his dormitory, Ginny stopped him. “I’ll order the box in the morning,” stating that she wasn’t about to forget. Harry grinned at her sheepishly and climbed the steps.

He fell asleep, a bit relieved. At least someone knew what he truly wanted to do, not that being an Auror would be bad, but he was just sick of having to constantly fight. He had planned his life on having to fight Voldemort, but now that it was over, he could do what he wanted but he everyone expected him to be an Auror and fight more.

He wasn’t sure he wanted that.