Snape went back into his office and sat in front of the fire.

Draco had stormed off after he spoke to him. He assumed he was angry because he had snapped and not revealed why Potter was upset. At least Draco was safe at school and didn’t have to worry about the Dark Lord invading his thoughts. Also, Lucius was in hiding and wouldn’t dare show his face on school grounds. Still he was very worried about the blond teen. What if he was debating becoming a Death Eater again?

Then there was Potter. He was on a self pity cruise, Snape told himself. However, he had to admit that no one he knew had tackled as much and had suffered as much as Potter. Although he never talked about it, the shadow of the prophecy must weigh heavily on him. It was no wonder he was so afraid of letting anyone close. If he had really listened to what Potter was saying today, he would have truly heard the fear in his voice and the desperation of losing yet another person he cared about.

He had obviously still not earned Potter’s trust, and accusing him of self pity when he was still so raw from the loss of Sirius was, as Dumbledore would have said, harsh. He frowned at the thought.

He didn’t know how to help Potter. Every time he thought progress was being made, the boy stepped back again, the accusations flew, and the walls went up.

It pained him to see into his mind today and to realize how much seeing Lily and Sirius through the veil had upset Potter. The trauma of seeing Sirius fall through the veil the first time and then the realization of knowing he was there and would never be a physical presence in his life again must have led to his emotional outburst today.

Potter acted like he was the only person who had ever suffered loss. Snape knew he had to help him, but he didn’t want to make the sacrifice of letting his own closely guarded secrets go. Could he reveal to Potter what his own childhood was like? Or what Lily had meant to him? Could Potter handle it? And then would he be able to trust him or would he resent him, making future lessons even more impossible?

He poured himself a cup of coffee, sipping at the warm, dark liquid. Could he trust Potter to keep his mouth shut? Could he trust himself to talk to him about the past when it was tightly locked inside of him? Perhaps Potter was right; he had indulged in his own self pity for all these years. Had it blinded him?

The door to his office opened and Lupin came in. "You wanted to see me, Severus?"

Snape nodded. "I believe we have made a mistake with Potter. It was much too soon for him to handle the veil."

Lupin’s brow wrinkled. "I think you are wrong. Although it made the loss so much more real, I think he was very grateful for having been able to see them again. He came and thanked me."

"Occlumency was a disaster today. He tore out of here angry and hurt. He has no control over his emotions."

Lupin nodded sadly. "A few short months ago he lost Sirius. Last Christmas he had the one and only real Christmas with someone he considered family. That’s all gone now. Instead, he has a terrible prophecy looming over his head, a probable war, and with it the likely loss of more people he cares about. He will either need to kill or be killed. Severus, he’s only 16 and that is a terrible burden to bear. I don’t think he’s talked to anyone about it. His emotions are so close to the surface – you are angry with him for not being able to control them, yet he doesn’t know how to."

"Which makes him easy prey for the Dark Lord."

"Yes, unfortunately," Lupin said softly. "All the more reason for you to be extra patient and understanding. You need to reach him, Severus, but you are not going to succeed by force. He is strong and he won’t respond to that. You can’t bully him."

Snape nodded thoughtfully.

***

Draco went to his room. Hogsmeade weekend was fast approaching and he still hadn’t decided whether to meet up with his father. A part of him missed him. He was always proud to see his father’s prestige in action; People scrambled to please him. Those rare moments when he was proud of him were unequalled and almost made the punishments worth it. When he was happy with him, his pride shone forth far and wide and the message loud and clear: "Look at my son, he makes the Malfoy name proud."

Draco sat back on his bed. He rested his head against the headboard and stared up at the ceiling. At times like this he felt overwhelmed with confusion.

***

Harry went out to the lake and sat and stared into the water.

He hated Snape for saying that all he was feeling was self pity. It wasn’t self pity. It was an overwhelming sense of dread that wouldn’t leave him. Logically, he knew learning Occlumency was important, but sometimes the fear of what would happen in the future and the pain of what had happened in the past was overwhelming. He was supposed to be strong and courageous, but sometimes he just wished the sleeping potion overdose had killed him. He took a deep breath and reconsidered. No, hang on. He didn’t really mean that. He knew that the lives of everyone on the side of light was counting on him. it was an incredible burden, and if he failed as badly as he did with Occlumency, they all would die. He couldn’t let that happen without a fight.

It was sheer torture having Snape see into his mind, yet no matter what he tried, he couldn’t be as controlled as Snape. He thought back to Sirius; he had wanted him to continue with Occlumency. He sighed, staring out at the calm waters. "I’m sorry, Sirius. I don’t know how."

"Potter."

Harry jumped. He looked up to find Snape standing near him. He narrowed his eyes at him. What did he want?

With an unreadable expression on his face, Snape sat down beside him.

"I used to come to this exact spot to do homework," Snape said quietly, looking out at the water.

Harry knew that because he had seen it in his pensieve, but he dared not comment as that would lead Snape to remember his past transgressions.

Snape continued on quietly. "When I’m trying to teach you, I’m not a patient man. I like to see results quickly. I forget all the things that are creating obstacles to your learning. I learned at a young age to control my emotions and my feelings and I suppose I willed you to be able to do the same. When you are unable to do so, I get frustrated at you."

"You never had the fate of the wizarding and muggle world hanging over your head!" Harry shouted at him bitterly.

"Relax, Potter." His dark eyes bore into him. "I didn’t come out here to accuse you, I came out to explain. You may continue to hate me, but for the sake of the light we need to reach an understanding so we can move forward."

Harry stared down at the grass, thinking about what Snape had said. His heart raced uncomfortably. "I don’t hate you but…" He stopped, not sure how to continue.

"But what?" Snape asked curtly.

Harry swallowed hard. A shadow of understanding flitted through Snape’s thoughts.

"But you still blame me partially for Black’s death." It was not a question.

Harry glanced up at him, expecting an explosion from Snape, but his face was unreadable, his eyes calm. He looked away nodding.

"Do you also blame the headmaster?"

Harry nodded again, not liking the silky tone in Snape’s voice.

"Do you blame yourself?"

A stab of pain shot through his heart.

He choked out, "Of course."

Snape’s voice came softly, "Why?"

Snape could see Potter visibly tense.

Harry swallowed hard and glanced at Snape. He was looking at him calmly, with what almost looked like a bit of understanding. That softened look in his eyes that had never been there before made Harry blurt out the guilt that he had been feeling since it happened. Everything came out in a rush.

"I did everything wrong: I didn’t listen to Hermione, I didn’t listen to Sirius when he said I had to resume Occlumency, I messed up lessons with you, I didn’t go to you when I dreamt that Voldemort had Sirius, I believed Kreacher, I almost got everyone killed, I could have used the mirror, but when I tried it was too late, Sirius was gone," he said, spouting a torrent of self-loathing. He closed his eyes tightly, breathing very fast and hard.

It was hard for Snape to stay detached seeing Potter like this, a bundle of visible pain. For the first time since he had been coerced by the headmaster to work on Occlumency with him, an overwhelming urge to offer some comfort possessed him.

Harry felt Snape’s hand on the back of his neck. "Remember the relaxation exercise we practiced today? Take a deep breath, and focus on controlling your breathing. Let all of the anxiety you are feeling right now flow out with each breath," came Snape’s quiet voice.

Harry tried, but his first few attempts at a deep breath failed. "Shhhh, calm down." Snape awkwardly patted the back of his neck. "Just take it slow."

After a few moments, Harry felt in control again and yet completely miserable that he had just blurted everything out to Snape. He felt sick and feverish and couldn’t stop trembling.

"You just mentioned a mirror? What did you mean by that?" He still had his hand on Potter’s neck and instantly felt him grow tense again.

Harry hesitated then squeezed his eyes shut thinking about last Christmas. He replied hoarsely, "Sirius gave me a present after last Christmas as I was leaving to return to Hogwarts, but it was wrapped and I was distracted by other things and didn't look at it. After, after what happened I found it and it was a mirror and he had written that whenever I wanted to contact him I could through the mirror. If I had looked at it when he gave it to me, I could have used it to find out that he was still at Grimmauld place and not being held captive by Voldemort." His voice grew thick and he put his hands over his face. "None of this would have happened."

Snape exhaled softly. The amount of guilt Potter was carrying around was astounding. Snape closed his eyes for a moment feeling his own bout of guilt for accusing Potter of being wrapped up in self-pity.

"How do you think Sirius would feel knowing that something he had given you as a gift was causing you so much misery?"

Harry snorted. "He’d hate it."

"Exactly. You can’t change this, it happened. Since you also blame the headmaster and myself, you know it wasn’t all your fault. All that guilt you are feeling can’t change anything, it will just hurt you and those remaining that you care about."

Harry inhaled sharply. "Don’t you think I know that? Logically I know I can’t bring him back, and sometimes I can actually go a few hours without thinking about him, but then something happens and I can’t help it. It’s like a wave welling up and it drowns me." His head fell to his knees. At least so far Snape hadn’t mocked him. He felt Snape’s hand rubbing his neck again.

"You know that your godfather and I were far from ever being friends. I despised him for his cruelty in school. However, we were on the same side. Without having the kind of relationship you had with him, I obviously don’t feel anywhere near the extent that you feel but..." Snape hesitated, removing his hand.

Harry looked up at him. Snape looked at him with those unreadable dark eyes. "I’m not without feeling guilt. You were right; I did goad him back at Grimmauld place. I wanted to vex him for once in revenge of all those times he humiliated me and made me feel worthless in our youth."

"My father did that to you also."

"Yes."

"I hated what I saw when I looked in your pensieve. I had always looked at my father as a hero, but then seeing him act like Malfoy…" He stopped, not sure how to go on.

"Made you see him in a different light?"

"When my name was placed in the Goblet of Fire and when Rita Skeeter wrote all those articles about me, the reactions everyone had were embarrassing and humiliating. I know how you felt."

He stared at Potter with stunned disbelief. Snape had never considered that Potter actually empathized with him. He wished he hadn’t been so blinded by anger when he had caught him peering into his pensieve. He wished he had reacted more calmly and spoke to him after. He had just assumed that Potter was getting a good laugh from James’ actions.

"Try not to get caught up in those feelings. I let my anger and my frustration lead me into making a terrible mistake, one that I can’t ever reverse."

Harry looked at him. "When you joined the Death Eaters?"

He nodded, his dark eyes shadowed.

"But you’re working with Professor Dumbledore now. You’re on the side of light."

"Yes, but it doesn’t erase all the things I had done before that." Snape’s tone took on a curt edge at this point.

Harry realized he wouldn’t welcome any further questions about his time as a Death Eater.

"You do realize that if the Dark Lord gets into your head, he will know I’m a spy?" Snape asked.

Harry looked at him, startled. "I hadn’t thought about that."

"Will you resume Occlumency lessons tomorrow afternoon?" Snape asked, his eyes guarded.

Harry looked troubled again. "I don’t know how I’m ever going to learn, but I’ll try."

"If we continue to talk about things like we have today, I think you will find it easier as time goes by." Snape stood up. "It’s getting dark; I think you need to go in now."

Harry stood up and followed Snape back inside.

***

Unbeknownst to either Snape or Harry, Draco had stood near where they had been. It pained him to see Professor Snape sitting there talking to the golden boy, his enemy. As he had walked closer, he had heard Snape asking him about resuming Occlumency lessons. Anger rose in Draco. He couldn’t believe Snape was teaching Potter Occlumency. He never offered to teach him that. Lucius didn’t know how to do it, so he had never learned. All of these years he had thought Professor Snape was on his side. Now it seemed he was just as much, or more, on Potter’s side. Acting like he despised him, yet helping him on the sly. The one person in the world that Draco thought he could count on was apparently befriending the enemy, the boy who everyone loved and admired. He sat down miserably against a tree biting his lower lip. Saint Potter had everyone.

Later Snape walked into the Slytherin dorm, Draco’s room to be exact. "Draco, I’ve been looking for you."

Draco looked at him resentfully. Snape narrowed his eyes. "Are you all right?"

"Perfect," Draco replied coldly.

"Good, I want to talk to you about the upcoming Hogsmeade trip. There is a potions convention occurring with a well known expert from the Far Eastern wizarding world. Since you excel at potions, I wonder if you would like to join me in attending?"

For a moment, a flash of interest lit up Draco’s gray eyes before his expression grew sullen again. "Is Potter going too?"

Snape couldn’t stop the small smile from forming on his face. "Potter? He’d likely blow the place up."

Draco smiled and spoke sarcastically, "Oh yeah, I forgot he’s still taking remedial potions, right?"

"Yes," came Snape’s reply. Draco was acting very oddly. "Are you sure you are all right? You seem tense."

"Like I said before, everything is perfect." His gray eyes flashed as he turned away.

"And Lucius is a kind and gentle man," Snape responded sarcastically. "Spill it, Draco. I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s got you in a knot!"

Draco’s eyes narrowed and he sneered at Snape. "None of your business," he yelled at him, a raw edge to his voice.

Snape recognized the words as being the same ones he had snarled at Draco earlier when he asked what was up with Potter. He glared at him. "Stop acting like an infant!"

Draco seethed with anger and made a move towards the door. Snape grabbed his arm. "You are not leaving this room until you tell why you are so angry at me," Snape snarled in a controlled voice. Draco wrenched his arm out of Snape’s grip.

"Sit down. NOW," Snape snarled in an increasingly angry tone.

Draco’s heart raced furiously. He spat at him, "You aren’t any better than my father."

"Really?" came Snape’s voice. "Have I pulled out a whip?"

"Maybe not that way, but you are always trying to control me just like he does. He may be a slave to Voldemort, but you are one to Potter!" he angrily burst out.

Snape’s eyebrow shot up. "Potter? How exactly does Potter figure into all this."

Draco glared at him resentfully but stayed silent.

"Draco?" Snape said in his most dangerous tone, his dark eyes glittering.

"You’re not teaching him remedial potions! You’re teaching him Occlumency!" Draco shouted.

A flash of fear entered Snape’s heart. He had been careless and Draco had found out. If he told the wrong person, his life was instantly forfeit. He tried to control his racing thoughts. "Why do you say that?" Snape asked in measured tones.

"Because I went down to the lake to do some homework and heard you asking Potter to continue Occlumency," Draco responded with anger. However, Snape also detected the hurt in his tone.

"What else did you hear?"

"Nothing! Why, did I miss the part where you told him he could always count on you that you were there for him!?" Draco shouted, his breathing laboured.

Snape paused, realizing finally why Draco was so upset. He obviously felt betrayed.

"No I didn’t tell him that. I meant what I said to you Draco, and that’s one of the reasons I am here to invite you to come with me. Potter is not invited."

Draco turned to the wall and leaned his forehead against it. Snape stared at his back.

"If you’re teaching Occlumency, why haven’t you ever taught me," came his voice softly.

"Because Professor Dumbledore asked me to teach Potter," Snape explained.

Draco snorted. "Of course. Saint Potter always gets special privileges.

"Perhaps he needs them. After all, he is the one constantly fighting off the Dark Lord."

"I wish the Dark Lord would just get him and Dumbledore." Draco never got to finish his thoughts as Snape angrily turned him and pushed his shoulders into the wall.

"Stop acting like some spoiled jealous little brat. There are some things you are not privy to know and what happens between Dumbledore and Potter is one of them! You are not to say a word to anyone about the lessons he is receiving! UNDERSTAND?"

Draco swallowed, furiously blinking back tears.

Snape exhaled softly, releasing his grip. "Draco, this is very important. My life would be at stake if you say anything to anyone. Can I count on you to keep this to yourself? Once I’m finished working with Potter, I promise that I will teach you."

Draco shrugged nonchalantly. "Fine. I won’t say anything, but don’t bother teaching me." His voice strained as he stared at the floor.

"I thought you wanted to learn? Isn’t that the main reason you are sulking?"

Draco glared at him again. "I’ll find someone else to teach me."

"There is no one else. I’m the best," Snape responded.

"Can you just go now?"

Snape looked at him. He was, as usual, pale, his white blond hair mussed now that he no longer gelled it back, his gray eyes stormy and unreadable. Everything about his stance made Snape determined to reach him again. He stepped away from him and went and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Do you think about Lucius?"

"I don’t want to talk about him." Draco scowled.

"I hope you have given up the idea about becoming a Death Eater."

The ensuing silence worried Snape.

"Draco?"

"I don’t want to become a Death Eater." His voice was quiet.

"I’m very glad to hear that. Will you come to the potions seminar? I promise you will enjoy it," Snape said softly.

Draco’s gaze lit on him, those gray eyes full of confusion. He stumbled over his words. "I can’t. I have plans to do stuff with Crabbe and Goyle."

Snape nodded. "Very well, but we would have had a great learning experience."

"Why don’t you just take Potter – he could use the extra lessons," Draco slipped in with a touch of malice.

Snape regarded him with anger. Draco’s moods changed like quicksilver. "Don’t you think it’s time you grew up a bit and got over this jealousy of Potter? I doubt if you lived in his world you’d be handling it as well!" Snape walked out of the room without a backward glance.

Draco’s face twisted as self-loathing overtook him. Why couldn’t he have just said yes to Snape’s invitation? A huge wave of pressure welled up in his chest from the deep ache in his heart. It burst as a gasping sob emerged. Why couldn’t someone just care without putting all these expectations on him? He had pushed Snape away again when what he really wanted was to tell Snape about the letter. Another sob welled up and he threw himself across the bed, hugging his pillow as tears spilled over. Why had he been so stupid? He really was as useless as his father always said. The tears came faster now as his body shook. He lay there for a long while uninterrupted and the tears finally stopped as sleep claimed him.