Harry kept his mouth shut as they waited in line to use the floo. Most of his energy was spent on remaining calm. It seemed as though his entire body just wanted to jump and squirm out of excitement. Meanwhile his mind raced through countless questions on where they were going and why.

Outwardly Harry appeared subdued and teary eyed, playing his role perfectly. But he wished the line would hurry up and move- he wasn't so sure how long he could wait.

Snape bought a small handful of powder and they stepped up to the floo together. "Arabella Fig's," Snape commanded.

Harry gasped, which was probably a very bad idea at the time. His lungs filled with floo powder and he began to cough violently. All the while he felt the dizzying whorl as he passed through the floo system. Suddenly he was tossed into a room and fell to the floor. He stayed on the ground trying to expel all the dust out of his respiratory system.

"Drink this Harry," said a woman's voice he recognized easily as Mrs. Figg.

Without thinking Harry took the glass of water and drank. Looking around through watering eyes he spotted Mrs. Figg. At the same time he realized he was on his hands and knees in the middle of her living room.

"Thank you," Harry replied, but then quickly asked, "how do you know who I am?"

"Severus informed me earlier of his plans," Mrs. Figg replied patiently.

Standing back up Harry tried in vain to push Mr. Tibbles away from him, but the blasted cat kept returning to rub against his leg.

Harry scanned the room looking for Snape and was startled when he didn't see the man. "Where's... where's," Harry stuttered, he was beginning to panic a bit. Backing up towards the fireplace he continued to ask, "where's Profe-"

A hand grabbed his shoulder and his body instantly tensed. "Calm yourself Potter," Snape commanded.

Harry turned around and blushed; the man was standing right behind him the whole time. Relieved his body visibly relaxed. Although he was ashamed to admit it, Harry was beginning to depend on Snape- he thoroughly trusted the man to take care of him.

"Now Harry," Snape said. "I'm going to go change into some muggle attire. You can go eat lunch with Mrs. Figg."

Harry and Mrs. Figg sat at her table to eat lunch; she had prepared roast beef and cabbage. They talked pleasantly about Harry's classes at school and never strayed to more delicate topics. During the conversation Harry began to regret all the time he spent with Mrs. Figg in the past, not knowing who she truly was. He remembered dreading the visits, having to look at all the photographs of her stupid cats.

After a short while Snape returned and sat down with them. Harry was surprised to see that Snape also filled his plate with a bit of the roast and some cabbage. But didn't spend much time contemplating the matter. Because he was more surprised at the site of his muggle like professor.

Snape had combed back his now clean hair into a tight ponytail. He wore a button down white shirt and a black tie. To finish off the outfit he wore black slacks, but even dressed in muggle attire the man still seemed every bit the greasy git, well without the greasy.

Harry stifled a snigger, but with his hands clasped tightly across his mouth, Snape caught on.

"And what seems to be so amusing Mr. Potter?"

"Oh nothing," Harry said quickly. But Snape glared at him; his expression held much less power. After a moment Harry continued, "it's just… well even in muggle clothes, you don't really look like a muggle.

"I thank you for the complement," Snape replied snidely.

For the next couple minutes they all ate in silence. Harry's plate was empty, he didn't think he could shove another forkful in his mouth.

Snape was done as well and stood up. "Come here Harry," he commanded. "You need to look more muggle yourself."

Snape stood up and rummaged though his robe that was now hung over an extra chair. He pulled out a miniature pile of clothes, expanded them and handed them over to Harry.

"Dress quickly and then we can go."

Harry knew exactly where the downstairs guest bathroom was. He went straight there and changed quickly. After slipping on the shirt easily he spent some extra time trying desperately to snap his jeans shut, but the button was just too hard and his little fingers didn't have the strength.

Giving up he looked up at the small mirror above the sink. He sprinkled a bit of water in his hair and tried to smooth his unruly black hair. It took him awhile to notice that the glamour charm was gone.

Gasping he ran out to the others, carefully holding his trousers up. Reaching the kitchen he started shouting, "Snape, the charm is gone. I look like myself again!"

"Potter calm yourself," Snape snapped. "It was only a temporary one."

"But the death eaters, they'll see me!"

"Oh I highly doubt that, they don't even know where your muggle relatives live."

"So the werewolves," Harry shot back sarcastically, "they were just out for a picnic?"

Snape's face twisted into a scowl. "The werewolves knew where you were, but that doesn't mean they were cognizant of the area around them."

"But you were tracking them and Hagrid was as well. Isn't it logical that Voldemort would also?"

"He didn't," Snape replied. Harry looked back at him doubtfully so the man continued; "The Dark Lord didn't find it necessary, he was sure they would get you."

"Well that's just stupid."

Snape's scowl softened, "He's arrogant Harry."

Not ready to give up Harry said, "What about that blast, you said it marked the house. And then the dementors, last year- they knew where the house was."

"Trust me Harry, the Dark Lord does not know where your muggle relatives live."

Harry considered asking him in a snarky tone, 'Well how do you know?' But before the words could leave his mouth he realized the answer. Snape was the spy, he would know. But he still wanted to know why both the dementors and the werewolves could find him while Voldemort didn't know where he lived- it didn't make sense.

Snape interrupted his thoughts and said, "Now do you want to go and get your photo album or not? I have a lot of things to do this afternoon and we've wasted to much time already."

"Yes I want to go," Harry said quietly. He hated giving in to Snape, but then started to wonder why he was concerned anyway. He trusted the man to protect him; maybe he was just tired.

Harry turned to go to the door but Snape called him back. "What's wrong with your trousers?" he asked. The boy looked down and blushed. "Are they too big?"

"Err, no," Harry couldn't admit it to the man, he just couldn't. He was hoping to pull Mrs. Figg aside and ask her to help him, but he forgot. "Thesnapistoohard," he said on one quick voice.

"What?" Snape demanded. "I didn't hear you. Look at me and speak clearly."

Harry looked up; his face felt like it was burning from the embarrassment. "The snap is too hard," Harry admitted.

"Come here," Snape commanded.

Harry walked over slowly dragging his heals the whole time. Once he was close enough Snape bent down and snapped the button for him. The man was so fast that Harry hardly new what happened. Relieved that the ordeal was over, he followed Snape out the door. The whole time he prayed inwardly that he would be able to live down all of the summer's embarrassing moments.

The left Mrs. Figg's house after a short good bye and strolled quietly down Wisteria Walk.

Turning onto Privet Drive Harry's heart filled with a dread. He had his hands shoved into his pockets; they were balled into tight clammy fists. Seeing his relatives again did not seem appealing, but he had to get his photo album back.

Snape broke the silence, "Now Harry, they will probably be a bit shocked to see your five year old self, so don't be startled by their reaction."

"Oh don't worry, I'm used to it," Harry said calmly. "I mean they always looked at me like I was a freak… won't be much different now."

Harry was mulling it over in his head. He grinned mischievously- Snape was right, they would be shocked. Harry had a plan; he could go in there and act like nothing was amiss… That would set the Durlseys off for sure.

Reaching number four Harry stopped Snape from knocking. "No sir, I'll go in on my own. You just wait here. I'll run up, get my album, and then come right back."

Snape studied the boy for a moment, contemplating the request. Harry tried to mask his face to appear impartial.

"Just call out if you need me," Snape replied calmly.

Harry nodded and opened the door. Stepping in he shut the door behind him and looked around. He tried to step carefully, but it was too hard not to traipse all over the mail. A large pile covered the entryway; it seemed as though they hadn't bothered to look at the letters in weeks.

Instincts were screaming at him, telling him something was definitely off. Rationally he knew he should turn back and tell Snape, but stubbornly he decided to continue on his own.

As he passed by the living room he peaked in through the door. He was surprised to see that all three Dursleys were in fact in there. But they were so quiet, if he didn't actually see them with his eyes, he would have sworn the room was empty.

Uncle Vernon sat in his chair reading his newspaper. Aunt Petunia sat on the couch staring at the blank television while her left hand rested softly on Dudley's massive shoulder. Meanwhile Dudley sat on the ground, schoolbooks outstretched on the coffee table; he appeared to be studying.

Harry watched them for a little while; something was not right- besides the fact that Dudley never did his homework. Their eyes were fixed in one place; they never shifted their positions. His family reminded him of mannequins used in store windows.

Despite the fact Harry could feel the hair on the back of his neck rising, telling him that something was very wrong, he continued to walk in the room. He couldn't pass up the opportunity to shock them, he just couldn't.

Walking into the room, he strolled over to the telly and turned it on. He was surprised that he had made it so far without even a wayward glance from his relatives. But he was even more bewildered when they didn't even respond to the sounds of the telly.

"Hello, I'm home," Harry announced. Still none of them looked up at him.

Harry was beginning to feel frustrated; they wouldn't even acknowledge his presence. He walked over to Uncle Vernon, touched the man lightly on the knee and asked, "Uncle Vernon?"

Reading the date on the newspaper Harry was confused when he noticed it was over a week old. Suddenly the newspaper was whisked out of site and was replaced by a now livid Uncle Vernon.

Harry quickly recoiled his hand as Vernon reached out to grab him. "You boy," the man shouted, "I'm gonna kill you!"

Harry didn't understand- why wasn't Uncle Vernon shocked that he was now five years old again? He didn't have much time to contemplate the matter. The man was standing now, fists clenched.

Darting out of the room Harry sprinted to the kitchen. He wasn't sure what he was doing, he just knew he had to get away.

Vernon followed him with a shocking speed. Harry dropped to all fours and tried to scurry under the table, but his Uncle caught him by the ankle and pulled him out. Harry tried to hold on to the chairs, but they slid with him and ended up crashing to the floor. Harry looked up in time to see a large fist swinging at him and managed to maneuver his head out of the way. As the fist hit the floor Harry could hear his Uncle's bones cracking under the force.

It was a sickening sound, but it brought him back to his senses. Harry needed help. "Snape!" Harry yelled out as loud as he could.

Vernon ignored his bloody fist; he didn't react to the pain at all. He was in an awkward position though and clumsily tried to right himself before attacking again. Meanwhile Harry took the opportunity to escape his grasp and crawled under the table to the other side of the room. The table was no obstacle for Vernon, with abnormal strength he knocked it out of the way.

In Vernon's eyes, Harry recognized the evil glare. He was trapped, there was no where else to run. "Snape! Snape! Help me Snape!" he yelled in a panic.

His Uncle raised his fist again as Harry raised his arms to protect his face. But when no blow came Harry looked up to see Snape had a hold of the man's arm. Vernon fought at the wizard's hold like a wild animal. Snape had to wrap his free arm around Vernon's massive body in order to prevent him from lunging forward.

As much as Uncle Vernon fought against Snape's restraint, it was obvious the man was not going to get away. Suddenly Vernon crumbled to the floor, screaming in pain. Snape nearly toppled down on top of the man, but was able to right himself. Holding out his wand, he stood over the body that was now writhing in pain.

The screams were sickening; Vernon sounded as if he were suffering from the Cruciatus Curse. Harry covered his ears, "stop Snape please," Harry pleaded. "Uncle Vernon has never hurt me like this before."

"I'm not doing this," Snape replied and continued to do a few more examining spells. "Harry get out of here, hide."

Harry hesitated, but Snape grabbed him by the collar, lifted him over Vernon's body and nearly tossed him across the room. Quickly Harry got to his feet and ran out to the hall. He didn't know where else to go, so he went to his cupboard and hid.

It didn't take long for the screaming to stop, but Harry didn't dare open the door. He waited patiently as he heard two men walk by the cupboard calmly. A moment later he heard one man emerge from the living room.

"Harry?" Snape called quietly.

Tentatively Harry pushed open the door and peaked out.

Spotting him Snape came over and got down to one knee. Analyzing Harry closely he asked in a voice barely above a whisper, "Are you okay?"

Harry nodded, besides feeling completely terrified he was fine. "What happened Snape? Uncle Vernon has never done anything like that before."

"I'm not sure," Snape replied. "But we should go." He took Harry's arm and started to walk to the front door.

Harry pulled away and said, "wait, sir- my photo album." Snape followed Harry up the stairs to Dudley's second bedroom. Harry was happy to see everything was exactly how he left it. Finding the album easily he tucked it under his arm. Without thinking he took Snape's hand and they walked back downstairs. Safely protected on Snape's left side, they passed by living room. Harry quickly glanced back and was surprised to see that Vernon was once again sitting, reading his newspaper- bloody hand completely ignored.

xxxxx

Before flooing back to Grimmauld Place, Snape and Harry gathered up their clothes. Harry was sad to see that Mrs. Figg's cat Snowy found his black robe to be a comfortable place to nap. She left behind white hair all over the robe and it was hard to pluck it all off. Resigned Harry clutched his robe closely and followed Snape over to the floo.

This time when Snape tossed in the powder Harry kept his mouth tightly shut. Back at Grimmauld Place, Snape and Harry went their separate ways for the afternoon, both disappearing into their rooms. Despite the cat hair Harry decided to dress back into the outfit Snape had gotten him, robes and all.

He sat on his bed examining the miniature trunk Ron had given him. He figured out that if he slammed the trunk down three times another chamber would open up. This one was filled with chocolate frogs. He also found another chamber after he stroked the lid, but this one didn't have any candy in it.

After a short time Snape came to his door, knocked quietly and said, "Harry it's time for dinner."

"Yes sir," Harry replied as he put the trunk done on the bedside table.

He followed Snape downstairs to the kitchen and sat down to eat. In between bites Harry would pull another white hair off his robe, eventually he would get it all.

At first Snape tried to ignore Harry's behavior, but after awhile he grew annoyed.

"Potter," Snape snapped, "come here."

Harry cringed. Whenever Snape called him by his surname he felt his heart stop. Harry expected at any moment Snape would come to his senses and begin to hate him again. And when Snape called him 'Potter,' he always thought that moment had come. He tried to remind himself that he hated Snape- after all the things the man had done to him. But in the end he realized something had changed between the two of them since he had transfigured into a baby. But would it last? Could he trust Snape?

Slowly he got out of his chair, feet dragging as he walked around the table to Snape. He felt so foolish, where was his Gryffindor bravery?

Casually Snape lifted his wand at the now cowering boy. After saying a quick vanishing spell all the white hair disappeared from the black robes.

Seeing his now clean robes Harry blushed. "Thank you sir!" he said as he returned to his chair.

They continued to eat in silence. Harry's mood was now much brighter. He actually looked forward to working on essays while Snape brewed his potions.

Snape broke the mood by saying, "I have finished your potion, you will take it tomorrow."

"Err… right." Harry's stomach churned at the mention of the potion, it seemed way too soon to be taking it yet again. "Will this be the last one?" Harry asked shyly.

"No, but it should age you as far as preadolescence, to about eleven or twelve," Snape explained calmly.

All the while Harry thought back to the last time, the horrible burning pain in his throat and stomach. Surpassed only by the agony of his body stretching out and growing in a matter of minutes. Harry tried to continue to eat, but the food lost all of its taste.

"The day after tomorrow you and I will be taking the train back to Hogwarts for the start of term."

Harry completely forgot about school. How could he be going back there, he would still be deaged. And was he actually growing fond of his time at Grimmauld Place, with Snape… no he was just worried about start of term. He shook off his thoughts of Snape; he couldn't bring himself to care for the man- especially since it was a farce. Snape was being nice to him because he was little, when he got back to school surely the man would throw all the embarrassing moments back into his face. Potions was going to be a horrible class, just like it always was.

"I'm not going back," Harry declared. "I can't, not as a twelve year old-"

"You will do as you're told Potter!" Snape snapped.

Again the phrase 'Potter' sliced through Harry's heart. This time he thought he might cry- he knew it, Snape still hated him.

"B- but sir… my age," he stammered, "I'm still young. What if… I mean how will… I can't go back."

"You have been taking remedial potions with me over the past month. You made a mistake and managed to deage yourself." Harry looked back at Snape confused, but before he could ask a question the man continued. "That is the story that we will announce to the school."

Harry's face reddened, he could hear Draco's insults already. Even Ron would laugh and then he would carry on about how sorry he felt for Harry having to spend his summer with Snape. Hermione would have a good long lecture about how Harry needed to be careful with his potions. Could he explain things to his friends at least? But he knew the answer to that without even having to ask.

Instead he asked, "well what about Dempsey? Ron and Hermione will want to know about him, seeing as how he was your apprentice. And if I've been with you for the summer- then I would of seen him too."

"If you recall," Snape replied, "we never had to use the cover story. Besides your little excursion with your friends no one paid much attention to us."

"Little excursion," Harry mocked under his breath. Anger was boiling up inside of him, threatening to spill out. "Well they're still going to ask about Dempsey," Harry said through a clenched jaw.

"As I expected," Snape said calmly. "Dumbledore has already explained the matter to them. So they've been told you had deaged to five and came to Diagon Alley with me under disguise. They have been instructed to keep quiet about their knowledge. Also, they don't know anything about the full extent of your deaging nor the true reason for it. And under no circumstances are you to mention anything about it. Is that understood?"

"Yes sir," Harry muttered. But under the stern glare of the Potions Master he spoke more clearly, "I understand sir."

Snape went back to eating. Meanwhile Harry stared at his plate and tried not to think about the upcoming days. Why did everything have to happen to him?

"How long till I can get back to my sixteen year old self?" Harry asked. And then quickly added, "and how many more potions will it take?"

"After tomorrow's potion I believe it will only take one more. But it will be awhile until your potion is ready. Although it is quick to brew, the final ingredient is very scarce. I've exhausted my own supply as well as buying the only vial in London. I'm afraid I will need to grow it myself- and that's only if Hagrid is able to locate a suitable seedling."

Harry groaned. This was going to be a very long school year.

xxxxx

After dinner Harry got to work on his essays, all he had left to do was rewrite some of the essays that had Snape's comments all over them. He tried his hardest not to think about the next few days, but constantly found himself staring down at the paper thinking about nothing.

Exhaustion from the day's activities crept up on him and without realizing it he fell asleep leaning back into the chair. He was only barely aware of his body being lifted up and he slipped back to sleep with his head resting softly on the Potions Master's shoulder. The next thing he knew he was laying flat on a comfortable bed and his shoes were being pulled off. He heard Snape say some strange charm and realized a comfortable pair of pajamas had replaced his clothes. Before he could wake up enough to be embarrassed, a warm blanket was being tucked around him. Within seconds he was back to sleep again.

And as often happens Harry drifted off into a dream. He was back at Hogwarts, sitting at the great hall eating dinner. His friends were all around him chatting about their summers. Harry couldn't talk, as much as he tried no words came out of his mouth. In frustration he banged his fist down against the table. No one paid any attention to him; it was like he wasn't even there.

The force keeping his mouth shut now felt like it was choking him. He needed help- he looked up towards the head table, but now found himself back at the Department of Mysteries; Sirius had his hands wrapped around Harry's neck.

Harry stared at Sirius' unforgiving face and tried desperately to apologize. The tight grasp released his neck and then grabbed him by the hood of his collar, pulling him to follow.

"I'm sorry Sirius," Harry cried.

With a blink Sirius' face disappeared and was now replaced by Snape's scowl. Harry looked around and realized he was back in the cemetery where Voldemort regained a body.

"You've failed us Potter," Snape spat as he tossed the boy forward.

Harry fell to the ground but got up quickly. Looking around he noticed that he was now alone, but he could hear something coming. His scar didn't ache, but his hand flew up to it, like he knew it should hurt. He knew Voldemort was coming and he was alone, Snape had abandoned him.

"Snape!" Harry yelled as he ran through the cemetery. "Snape come back! Please don't leave me!" He was running as fast as he could, but he wasn't getting anywhere. He knew Voldemort was close behind, he looked back and tripped over a root.

This time when he hit the ground it actually hurt. He was tangled in something and tried to fight his way free. "Snape!" he shouted again, "Snape come back, please don't leave me!"

Something firm gripped his arm and started to pull him out of the twisted mess. Harry let out a scream and fought against his captor. Oddly enough he realized he was being pulled away from his blankets- he had been tangled in them. Suddenly it dawned on him that he had been dreaming.

"It's okay Harry," Snape said soothingly, releasing his grasp on Harry's arm. "I am right here."

Without thinking about it Harry reached out quickly and wrapped his arms around Snape's neck. The man hugged him back and Harry started to cry. He let his legs go limp as the man pulled him up off the ground. Harry buried his face against the man's robe, his dignity be damned- he needed this, he was so afraid.

Snape sat down on the bed; Harry now had both his arms and legs wrapped tightly around the man's body. If Snape were going to rid himself off the boy he would have to pry him off first.

The rhythmical patting of his back followed and Harry felt his fears slipping away. But the less scared he got the more embarrassed he became. It was too late now, Harry reasoned, the damage was already done. Might as well stay and get the most out of it.

Over time he stopped crying and then sniffling. No longer afraid he started to drift back to sleep. As his body relaxed Snape was able to pull the boy off of him and lay him down in the bed.

Harry woke with a start. "Don't go," he pleaded.

"I'm not going anywhere," Snape assured him. But for good measure Harry clung tightly to the man's arm. The reasonable part of him knew he was being childish, but he couldn't bring himself to let go.

The rhythmical patting on his back continued and once again Harry drifted off to sleep. The next morning he woke up, still clinging to the man's arm. He shifted quietly, wondering if Snape was asleep as well.

"Get up and dress," Snape ordered, "it's time for breakfast." The man pulled his arm away and before Harry could respond, he was gone.

Harry dressed quickly and went down to the kitchen. The day progressed much like the others. After toast with Snape Harry went to work finishing his essays while Snape went to work finishing his potions.

Finishing the last essay Harry set his work aside. He wondered how much time that he had until he would have to endure the second potion. Before he could ask Madame Pomfrey stepped out of the floo followed by Dumbledore.

The old wizard gave Harry a weak smile and said, "hello Harry, how are you?"

"Err… well-" Harry didn't know how to respond. At the moment he was fine, but he knew what was coming.

Madame Pomfrey gave Harry a quick examination before nodding to Snape.

"Come along Harry," Snape said, "it's time."

Harry walked very slowly across the room and even slower up the stairs. He was surprised to find that even at the very slow pace they still managed to reach his room.

After Snape's prompting Harry climbed into bed and sat leaning against the headboard. He pulled the covers close just before Snape charmed his clothes away. And then Harry pulled off his glasses and handed them to Snape, who pocketed them.

"Drink as much as you can," Snape commanded as he handed Harry a cup filled with the familiar clear liquid.

Harry stared at it for a moment and then he looked up at Snape. He didn't want to drink it; inwardly he pleaded with Snape to take it away. He wished some unforeseen problem would develop and he could just stay five.

Snape reached out and rested a hand on Harry's leg. That was all the reassurance he needed, in the next moment Harry had the glass to his lips and started to drink.

Again the liquid felt cool all the way down his throat and into his stomach. And just as before it started to itch and then burn. Harry ignored the pain and continued to drink until he couldn't take it anymore.

He tried to pull the cup away from his lips, but Snape caught him and held the cup steady. Harry had no choice to drink otherwise he would choke. He tried to squirm away, flailing his arms and legs, but he couldn't get away. Right as he started to vomit Snape took the cup away.

Harry gasped in a breath just before the pain in his body made his jaw clench shut. He was vaguely aware that Snape had pulled him further down the bed by his legs. Now he lay rigidly as every last tissue in his body grew.

Harry thought he would die, no he knew he would die. The pain was too much- it was consuming him. Again Snape reached out and took hold of his hand; he regained a sense of reality. He knew the pain would pass and slowly it did.

Cautiously Harry flexed his hand under Snape's grasp; as if testing it to make sure the pain wouldn't return. When it didn't Harry got bolder and started to sit up.

Snape helped him up and then asked, "how do you feel?"

"I've been better," Harry mumbled, all he wanted to do now was lay down and sleep.

"Is there any pain?" Snape asked patiently.

Harry had to think about that, he still felt as though the pain would return at any moment. He answered, "no, not right now. I'm just tired."

With his last comment Harry was sure Snape would leave him be to sleep. But instead the man poked him in the ribs. "You need to eat first, you're skin and bones."

Blushing Harry pulled the blankets up to his chin. He was just in time too because Snape opened the door and invited the others in.

Madame Pomfrey performed another quick examination. And then said, "he's dehydrated and malnourished, but otherwise is in good condition." Afterwards Snape handed the woman Harry's glasses and a few spells later they were a perfect match.

With his glasses on the room came into a better focus. Snape conjured a bowl of chicken soup and a mug of pumpkin juice. Obediently Harry started to eat, because he knew as soon as the food was gone he would be allowed to sleep.

Dumbledore walked over and sat on the edge of Harry's bed. "I know you're probably not up to discussing this right now, but I need to inform you of a few things."

Harry sighed; he really wasn't up to arguing anything, so he continued to eat without interrupting the man.

"Professor Snape has already told you about the cover story and I implore you to stick by it. Also you will continue your Occlumency lessons under the cover of Remedial Potions."

Now Harry understood why Dumbledore was explaining this now. The old coot was waiting for him to be tired and too weak to argue back. But as irritating as it was, Harry really didn't have a problem with the lessons. Sure he hated the lessons, but he knew things would be different now. And he welcomed the excuse to see Snape at school.

Dumbledore watched Harry intently waiting for some kind of retort and looked satisfied when none came. Harry wished he could wipe the grin off the old man's face; he didn’t want to let Dumbledore win- he actually wanted to do the lessons.

Before he could say anything Dumbledore, the old man excused himself and he and Madame Pomfrey left.

After finishing all of his soup and his entire mug of pumpkin juice Snape took away the dishes. Harry didn't have much strength left for anything else and scooted down the bed in order to lay flat. He fell asleep as he felt the blankets being tucked around him.

After no time at all he was being nudged awake and another bowl of soup was sat before him. This time he had a ham sandwich as well another large mug of pumpkin juice.

He ate quickly, he didn't recall being this tired after the last potion. He supposed that this time he aged more. Before he knew it he was lying back down and drifting back to sleep.

The next morning he woke up and was abashed to find that he was still naked. Thankfully a pile of folded clothes waited on the edge of his bed. He didn't even have to step out from under the covers to retrieve them.

He dressed quickly. Pulling on the muggle jeans he was happy to find that they fit perfectly. Smiling to himself he was pleased to see that his t-shirt was black and so was his jumper. Slipping on his socks and then his shoes he climbed out of bed and went to the bathroom. After washing up a bit he left his room and went down to the kitchen to find Snape.

"Good morning sir," Harry said as he sat down at the table.

"I assume you are well rested," Snape replied.

"Yeah," Harry said quietly. He regretted sleeping through the whole afternoon and then the night. That was the last afternoon he had to spend with Snape and Harry actually found it sad.

Snape pushed a plate of toast in front of Harry; as usual they were buttered and covered with strawberry jam.

"Thank you sir," Harry said.

Snape replied with a nod and then continued, "I took the liberty to pack for you, I've noticed you still have your robes and clothes from years past. I assume those will suffice for school."

"Yeah," Harry replied. He didn't want to think about school.

"After breakfast we will be leaving for the train. I will be taking the Hogwarts Express as well, but I will sit with the Slytherin prefects in order to draw less attention."

"Right," was all Harry managed to reply.

He didn't want to think about what Snape would be telling his little Slytherins, he supposed they'd all have a good laugh over famous Harry Potter.

All the embarrassing moments flashed through Harry's head. No, Snape wouldn't joke about him, not anymore, Harry thought, the man has changed. But what if he hasn't?

"Please don't tell anyone about, err… well you know," Harry said. He couldn't bring himself to recount all the embarrassing moments with Snape- the man had a lot of dirt he could use against him.

"Don't worry about it Potter," Snape spat. "It just as dangerous for me if anyone found out."

Harry paled; Snape was just as embarrassed as he was. Again he wished that he didn't have to go. He wanted to sit there and eat toast with Snape and pretend everything was different between the two of them. But he knew nothing had changed, their relationship was the same, to Snape Harry was still the arrogant Boy-Who-Lived. But Harry knew he would never view Snape as just a greasy git again.