The journal was burning a hole in his robes all day but his next class was potions and he didn’t dare take it out there. Ingredients were laid out on his table and a complicated looking potion was written on the board. Harry didn’t remember ever doing anything like this in his potions classes before and had no idea what he was supposed to be doing. Luckily, Draco sat himself into the seat next to Harry and began to set up the ingredients for the potion. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the ugly look that crossed Pansy’s face. Purposefully not commenting on the turn of events she sat herself next to Neville and used her wand to light the fire underneath the cauldron. Harry vaguely wondered if she knew what she was getting herself into. On that note, he wondered if Draco knew what he was getting himself into.

Nervously, he leaned forward in his chair and gazed at the ingredients set out before him on the table. "Mr. Potter, is their a problem?"

Jumping, he quickly shook his head in the negative. Unfortunately, Malfoy spoke up for him, "I believe Harry is having a little trouble following the potion."

Giving his partner a death glare, he cursed himself for being lulled into any sense of security with the young Malfoy. To his credit, Draco did not seem at all ruffled by the glare. And since when were they on a first name basis?

"Indeed. Mr. Potter, you wish to be an auror, correct?" There wasn’t the slightest bit of sarcasm in the man’s voice. Harry nodded dumbly. "Well, this is a very potent poison and your knowledge of it may serve you well in that field. Let me show you some secrets to making it."

Shocked, Harry could do nothing but sit there and allow his hated git of a professor help him with the potion. The man was surprisingly patient about explaining it. He managed to get Harry through it successfully on the first try and even Neville only screwed up once. Even then, Snape simply fixed it and, without one snide comment, showed him what he had done wrong. Confused, Harry remained after the rest of the class had filed out, staring intently at his professor.

"Problem?"Asked the professor without looking up from his lesson plans.

"I. . .why were you doing that?"

Snape said nothing for a moment. Then he let out an almost inaudible sigh and placed his fingertips on the bridge of his nose. "While you are at this school, Potter, you are not a Gryffindor, you are not the golden boy of the wizarding world, you are simply another one of my students. You will be treated as such."

"Oh...well thanks." Little did Snape know that was exactly what Harry had always wanted and, until now, had never been able to have.

Observing his student over folded hands he said, "Certainly, Mr. Potter."

Harry stood awkwardly and then approached the desk, uncertain of himself. Then it hit him; a vision at full force. Everything intensified, color was more vivid, sound more acute until it all exploded into a show of light and sound.

XxXxXxX

He was standing in a graveyard, before him was a circle of people dressed in black robes with white masks. Deatheaters! Frightened, he tried to hide until he realized that they could not see him, although a few did seem to let their gaze linger on where he stood. One by one, they crawled to their Dark Lord and kissed the hem of his robes in an act of contrition. Then they branched out and formed a circle enveloping him. A few late stragglers appeared and hurried forth to kiss his hems before nervously taking their place back in the circle.

In a low hiss he stated, "Severus Snape."

There was a gentle muttering that ran around the circle as one of his most loyal servants stepped forward. Although his face was covered, Harry could tell that it was him, there was no mistaking the way Snape carried himself.

"My lord?"

"Severus," hissed the figure, "I doubt your loyalty."

With the mask in place, he couldn’t see Snape’s face. Even if he could have it wouldn’t have mattered because years of practice had taught him to keep in impassive even at moments like this. However, Harry could feel the fear rolling off the other man. He yelled for Snape to run and get away from them, but no one heard him, just as they couldn’t see him.

Although he was briefly silent, when he did speak it came out in a steady voice, "You need never doubt me."

"I shall be the judge of that."

"A test, Master?"

"More like...a sacrifice." Somehow he felt what the other man felt in a detached sort of way. He sensed the lead ball forming in his stomach as he listened to Voldemort.

Slowly the circle opened up and two death eaters walked into the center of the circle. One dragged a woman kicking and screaming and cussing up a storm. Wildly, she scratched at anything she could get her fingers on and was biting at his hands. Many of the threats she made were insubstantial but would have frightened Harry nevertheless if he was in the position of the man carrying her. When she lifted her face to the crowd, Harry realized it was Elvira, only with a large purple bruise forming on her cheek. The other man carried a small child that he recognized from his earlier visions. She was a couple years younger and although she didn’t cry, her blue eyes were wide and somber. Fear also emitted from the young girl but from Elvira he was only picking up unadulterated anger and hatred. He now understood the meaning of Hell hath no fury.

"Sev..." She gave her husband a meaningful look and he gave a barely noticeable nod in her direction. From Voldemort, he sensed the twisted pleasure the man derived from seeing Snape so obviously in distress. Feeling that emotion, even in a detached way made him feel disgusted.

"I believe that it is time for you to put your priorities back in order. You may take one of them home with you tonight, the other you will not see again. Prove to me that you’re still loyal to our cause above all else." Harry felt the desire to beg, Snape would have abandoned all pride to save both of them if he believed it would have done any good. However, there was no humanity to appeal to.

"Not Serenity." He said instantly, although there was pain in his voice.

"Are you certain?" Asked Voldemort with an evil glint in his eyes.

"Not Serenity." He said again, firmer this time.

The little girl was handed gruffly to him and she clung to him as if her life depended on it, whimpering. Snape held her and whispered soothingly into her ear, causing Harry’s eyes to widen ever so slightly. Snape was acting almost human! He looked over at his wife and their eyes met for the briefest moment, pain in his and understanding and relief in hers.

With this final glance, Snape turned to the Dark Lord and nodded. Then he repeated his words from earlier, causing Harry to reel from the willing sacrifice. "You need never doubt me, my Lord."

"I see." Hissed the monster, "I am pleased Severus. You may leave."

Looking desperately at his wife he nodded and stumbled out of the circle. With a pop he diapparated. With a grating laugh, Voldemort turned to the woman who had grown still, Harry now felt fear coming from her as well as anger.

"You’ll suffer for your husbands mistakes." He took a step closer to her and leaned over her, "Tell me, how does that feel?"

And then...she spat in his face. Several deatheaters let out disbelieving and angry cries and Harry gaped at her. She was practically begging him to kill her! With a snarl he snapped, "Crucio!"

Her body writhed and she let out a choked gasp which turned into a bloodcurdling scream. Instinctively, Harry covered his ears from the horrid noise. Elvira’s skin grew cut as she writhed against the hard ground and her head hit the ground roughly more than once. Still, he did not let up, he continued the spell until a thin line of blood ran from her mouth and she was gasping wetly for breath. Harry wished for it to be over, he wished for her to be free. And then he felt something hot rise in him and explode outwards, hitting the Dark Lord with a flame and breaking the spell. The man struggled, abandoning his dignity, to put it out. Without thinking, Harry ran toward the woman laying in the grass whose eyes were going glassy. Following what he’d done before, he held a hand over her and wished her healed, wished her safe. A blue light came from his hand and her eyes grew more focused and her breathing less ragged.

With a pull that felt like it was coming from his naval, he was jerked back down into Snape’s classroom. Everything was as it had been before except he was coated in sweat and gasping for breath. In fact, he couldn’t have been pulled into the vision for more then a few seconds because Snape was still intensely focused on the papers before him.

Without thinking he asked, "Sir? How did she escape?"

"Who?" Asked Snape, looking up at him.

Oops, well it was too late to go back now. He charged on, "Professor Schlone, how did she get free from the deatheaters."

Surprised, Snape dropped his quill and accidently knocked over his ink bottle, causing it to ruin the papers on his desk. With a glare at Harry and a wave of his wand, the papers were clean. "How, dare I ask, do you know about that?"

Shuffling his feet, Harry looked down and wondered what to tell him. What if Snape didn’t believe him? He didn’t want to ruin the semi-civil way Snape was treating him. Instead, he remained silent, unable to come up with an adequate lie. Finally Snape apparently decided to just play along with Harry and find his answers later.

"I don’t know. The only person who would know would be her, and you will not ask her about her experience there."

"Well, after she escaped, wouldn’t Voldemort have came after her?"

"Not necessarily." Snape sighed, "Potter, his pride was damaged at having a ‘Mudblood’ escape from him. He underestimated her power, that is a big mistake when dealing with your enemies."

"Sir, you didn’t flinch when I said his name."

"After what I went through with him I refuse to cower at the sound of his name."

"Oh," Harry hesitated with his next question, "Sir, you became a deatheater even though your wife was Muggle-born."

Snape paused before answering this statement. "Yes...although I never told the Dark Lord about her parentage. Joining the deatheaters was a lot more about power then about any beliefs I held. Besides, we had a lot in common. Her parents hated magic as much as my father did. Any more of your insufferable questions or are you quite through?"

Harry was surprised to find he had something in common with his hated professor. He shook his head no and Snape replied, "Good. Go the your next class, I believe it is The Dark Arts: Casting and Defense?"

Harry nodded and turned to leave when Snape called back to him, "Oh, and Potter?"

"Yes?"

"Detention, tomorrow night."

He spun around upon hearing this, "What for?"

Snape smirked, "You’re out of class without a hall pass."

Opening and closing his mouth a few times, Harry simply shook his head with disbelief and headed off to his next class.