The dungeon stones were warmed by the intense heat wave outside Hogwarts, a school of witchcraft and wizardry. Potion Professor Severus Snape stalked down a lower level hallway. He wore a black t-shirt and matching dark shorts, it being much too hot for his usual cloak and robe. His lips were pressed together in a thin line, anger seemed to radiate from him in waves. Although his mouth never appeared to move, a constant stream of curses echoed off the walls around him. The unpleasant looking man - oily black hair framing a pinched, sallow face - repeated a single word after each curse, Potter.
It took the Professor mere minutes to reach the office of the school's Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, at the brisk pace he had kept. Once there, the man glared daggers into the stone gargoyle that guarded the stairwell to the office door.
"Trick-r-treat." He spat out, there was no civility in his tone.
The stairway opened up for him with a grind and he stepped on for the short ride. The door banged off the wall from the force of his push when he barged in.
"Headmaster, I demand an explanation!"
Headmaster Dumbledore looked over his glasses at the intruding Professor. At first, the old man didn't say anything. Instead, he motioned for Snape to have a seat and then, once Snape had complied, Dumbledore held out a bowl of sweets.
'"Would you like some?" He asked.
Snape ground his teeth, impatience angering him further, but shook his head. He did not trust himself to speak - too many unforgivable words were running through his mind and no matter how irksome the old man could be, Dumbledore did not deserve that.
The Headmaster relaxed back into his chair and studied the younger man before him. "I must say that I did not expect to see you out of the dungeons this summer...with how hot it is out-."
Snape cut the man off with an abrupt, and slightly unsteady, wave of his arm. "It is this infernal heat that I have come to speak with you about. I know that it is your doing and I am at my wits end! The dungeons are no longer a safe retreat for me, the heat has penetrated them as well. You must turn away this weather. What is it all for, anyway?" He demanded, shooting the older man a dangerous look.
Dumbledore sighed heavily and slumped a little, a sad light appeared in his eyes. "I did not mean to cause you so much discomfort, my friend." He continued. "It came to my attention this last year that Hogwarts is hardly the cheeriest place at the best of time, and I thought to lighten the melancholy atmosphere for a while."
"That is very noble of you Headmaster, I'm sure." Snape growled. "But it is summer, why must you keep it up now?"
"Why, for Harry, of course. He will be staying here this summer and preparing for his seventh year NEWT exams. I expected you to know that he was here - though it has been a long time since you were out of the dungeons." The Headmaster explained.
Snape tilted his head as he thought this through. "So, Potter is here, is he." He muttered under his breath.
It had been the whelp's fault, he crowed victoriously inside his head. Everything could be traced back to the actions of the Infernal-Boy-Who-Continued-To-Cause-Problems. Harry Potter.
"Is he being tutored by McGonagall?" Snape asked curiously.
The Professor knew that it was not uncommon for failing students to stay behind the summer before their seventh year, but he had not known that Potter was so badly off in his studies. Save potions, of course. That boy could not spot a decent potion if it was forced down his throat!
"Yes, as am I. I had meant to speak with you this week about teaching him some practical potions while he is here."
Snape showed his teeth as he growled out his response. "No."
He held the Headmaster's gaze, not giving an inch.
------------------
Harry Potter sat in the Gryffindor common room studying his transfiguration text book. His mind kept going back to the day of summer leave.
FLASH BACK
Harry said goodbye to his two best friends, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, at the train station. Then he warily made his way to the parking lot. The teenager instantly spotted his Uncle's vehicle and he readjusted his shoulder bag before walking over to it. His Aunt Petunia sat in the driver's seat, a sneer twisted her long face.
"Get in, boy! What are you waiting for?" She called through the open window. Her shrill voice caused people passing by to stare. She glared back at them and frowned over at Harry. "Now look what you've done. They see you for the freak you are - everybody's looking!"
Harry hurriedly put his things in the back and got in, buckling up.
"You should thank me for coming instead of your Uncle. You know how he gets when you do things."
Harry barely stopped himself from commenting that it was her that everyone had been staring at, not him.
"Thank you, for picking me up, Aunt Petunia." He answered obediently.
A half-hour later they arrived at the unremarkable house of number four Privet Drive. Harry carried his things inside and up the stairs to his room. Hedwig was staying with Ron that summer so that he could get plenty of fresh food and exercise. He would have to go without the Daily Prophet, but after the last school year all he wanted was some peace. He knew he would miss the snowy white owl, she was his only contact with the wizarding world during his summers.
After settling in, Harry reluctantly went downstairs to start on the list of chores that his Aunt would have ready for him. On the way down, he passed Dudley who was coming up the stairs. The older boy laughed and with an unexpected push, sent Harry tumbling down the stairs.
"See what you get for coming back, Freak!" Dudley whispered fiercely. "Should've stayed with the rest of your kind."
Harry stood up and brushed himself off - a pange of loneliness burned his eyes and he shook his head to stop the tears from pooling. He missed his friends already and knowing that this was only the first day of leave made it so much worse. The teenager knew that more of the same treatment was all he had to look forward to, worse once his Uncle got home from work.
It was late that evening when Uncle Vernon arrived. Harry had the table set and dinner ready to be served when the large man came in the front door.
"Good evening, Darling." Aunt Petunia gushed as she sloppily kissed her husband's cheek. "How was you day?"
He muttered something that Harry could not - and made no effort to - hear.
"No thanks to the Freak."
That Harry heard. He glanced quickly over at his Uncle and waited for more insults to come, but Vernon had sat down with his back to the kitchen area.
"I expected a raise, but then I got a call from some of those Freaks and the raise went to someone else. I know that boy has something to do with this."
Harry knew that his Uncle must be referring to a wizard or witch that had called him at work, but the only ones he knew with telephone access and the ability to use the device were the Weasley family. He wanted to ask who had called and why, but dared not. Still he kept a sharp ear on the table conversation as he started cleaning up the kitchen.
"Why would they call you at work, dear?" Aunt Petunia asked in a low tone. She leaned forward, her eyes twitching left and then right as if she expected a wizard to suddenly appear. "Was it...HIM?"
Harry glanced up, suspiciously. His Aunt's long face was void of color and her hands were shaking.
Uncle Vernon shook his head firmly. "No. It was some Freak called Lucius..." He hesitated a moment as if trying to remember. "Malfoy."
Dudley cried out in surprised fright when the glass that Harry had been drying fell to the floor and shattered into a million pieces,
END FLASHBACK
The memory of that broken glass scattered across the kitchen floor remained fixed in his mind's eye as Harry tried to get his emotions under control. An unwanted tear slid down his cheek, but he didn't feel it.
A Death Eater - Lucius Malfoy - had come to number four Privet Drive that night...only Harry had survived. The sound of a door being blasted off its hinges followed by the dying screams of his Aunt had alerted him to the danger. There hadn't been enough time to get to Uncle Vernon or Dudley. It had been over so fast that night.
FLASHBACK
Harry's hand was white from the intense grip on the handle of his wand. Footsteps sounded up the stairs and a quiet muttering in Latin, then the masked and robed figure with flowing white-blond hair had appeared in his doorway.
The teenage boy raised his wand. "Expel-."
"Stupefy!"
Harry felt himself falling before he had even finished his own spell.
END FLASHBACK
At the very moment Harry thought his life was over, Dumbledore had appeared beside him and the pull of the portkey had taken over his senses.
That had been two days ago. Two days since summer break started and everything he had ever known no longer existed. His family - however small and dysfunctional it may have been - was gone forever. Another tear followed the first and he sniffled away the urge to sob. Harry shook his head and wiped at his eyes. He would not be so weak; he had survived much worse than this in his life.
He stood, trying to focus his mind on anything other than the overwhelming feeling of loss that wanted to choke him. For some reason, over the past day he had become convinced that if they had lived the Dursleys would have eventually grown fond of him. This caused him to regret their deaths even more. Everyone he had ever cared for died, except Remus Lupin, but he was never around anymore...always off on secret Order missions.
"Harry, I thought I might find you up here. Why don't you come down to lunch, there is something that I would like to discuss with you."
Harry turned towards the doorway at the unexpected sound of Dumbledore's voice. Instead of finding the Headmaster at the common room door, he saw a strange bird like Patronus glowing in mid-air.
"Yes, sir."
The Patronus nodded to him politely before flying off at an incredible speed. Harry stared at the place it had been in shock. He had not known that a Patronus could be used to send messages. He finally decided that it must work for Dumbledore because he was such a powerful wizard.
The teenage boy grabbed up his robe from where he had lain it over the back of the couch and he threw it on as he hurried past the portrait.
"Have a good lunch, dear." The Fat Lady called after him.
Harry stopped short, the term "dear" had been a special favorite of his Aunt's and hearing a woman's voice saying it brought back a rush of memories. He saw his Aunt standing at the top of the stairs shouting orders down to him; he heard her welcoming home his Uncle; he felt one of her rare caresses as she congratulated him over a job well done when he had impressed a visiting business man with his cooking.
Harry touched the back of his head, where she had touched him. For a brief moment he almost felt like she was still there, that somehow he could still connect with her. Then the feeling left him and all he felt was a bitter emptiness.
"I am so sorry." He whispered into the deserted hallway. "It's my fault that you're dead."
The sound of the portrait door closing brought him back to the present and Harry hurried down to the Great Hall where he knew Dumbledore would be waiting for him. Hopefully, with news of the Death Eater's whereabouts.
When he entered the Great Hall, Harry was surprised to see Severus Snape sitting a few seats over from Dumbledore with an angry sneer fixed firmly in place. They boy felt his fists clench at the sight of the man's black clothing. They reminded him of the Death Eater uniform Lucius wore that night. With the unusual warmth of the summer, he had seen little of the disagreeable Professor.
"You wanted to speak with me, sir?" Harry asked Dumbledore once he reached the head table.
The old man nodded. "Yes, Harry, my boy. Take a seat here." He gestured to the chair between himself and Snape. "And then we will let the house elves serve us before we do any discussing."
Harry frowned and reluctantly sat in the offered place. He unconsciously leaned a little more towards the Headmaster, wanting to stay as far away from Snape as possible.
A few seconds later plates laden with luscious food appeared in front of them. The plate directly in front of Harry had a serving of something that he had never seen before, but it looked very good so he started eating, forgetting for a moment that Snape was present.
"You have the most deplorable eating habits, Potter."
Harry paused. "Excuse me?"
Snape pointed to a small fork that Harry had not noticed before. "That is what you are suppose to eat it with, not your fingers!"
The teenage boy looked down at the tiny biscuit like morsel that he held between his thumb and forefinger. He didn't see how anyone could eat it with a fork, the crust seemed much too flaky for that. It would probably fall apart if he tried.
"I'll eat however I want, thank you." He sniped back. It felt god to vent for a change, even if was over something as trivial as food.
There was a growl from Snape at this show of impertinence, but Harry did not look to see the expression on the man's face.
"Now, now, gentlemen." The Headmaster interrupted before house points could be lost for Gryffindor. "I don't think that this is very advantageous for us, considering what we are here to talk about."
"What would that be, sir?" Harry asked curiously.
"Severus has offered to tutor you in potions for a few hours every day since you are here for the remainder of the summer months. Dumbledore's reply was nonchalant, the old man continued eating as if he was commenting on the weather.
Harry's mouth dropped open. "He what?"
The boy's heart sank even lower as he realized that things could, in face, always get much worse.
--------------------------------
"Now, Potter, I expect you to pay close attention to everything that I say. Take notes, if you think that you need to, but do not interrupt me when I am speaking and do not - yes, what?" Snape demanded acidically.
Harry lowered his hand. "What exactly will you be teaching me? Applied potions? Basic formula?" He hoped it wasn't the latter.
"I will assess your individual weaknesses and we will improve on those areas." Snape responded.
"Okay, what about Occlumancy?" Harry winced as he thought of the pensieve disaster the year before.
Snape smiled in a predatory manner, causing Harry to shiver. "Are you asking me to teach you?"
Harry quickly shook his head. He took a step backwards. "N-no, sir."
"Good! Because even the Headmaster with all of his considerable skills could not persuade me to do so."
Harry exhaled loudly in relief. He looked around the room then and his gaze fell on a cauldron that had been set out with supplies evenly lined on either side.
"What are we starting on?" He asked.
Harry found himself looking forward to doing something that wouldn't remind him of the Dursleys. Anything that could get his mind off that dreadful night would be a godsend for the Boy-Who-Lived.
Snape led the way over to the table that the cauldron was set up on. Harry watched in fascination as the older man explained every step carefully as he began a simple wart removal potion. The boy found himself wondering if classes were like this, perhaps he would be a great potions proficient.
"Since room temperature is much hotter than normal, due to this infernal heat wave, the fire must be doused five minutes earlier than the directions demand." Snape said.
Hours passed by as Harry learned more about the fascinating world of potions. It absorbed him completely and before the boy knew it, dinner time had arrived. Even Professor Snape seemed surprised when Harry pointed out the late time.
"Until tomorrow, Potter." The Professor said curtly, his sneer fixed firmly in place.
Harry said a quick goodbye and ran up to the tower to change out of his potions stained robe before going down to dinner. During the meal that night, he found himself asking Snape more questions about the ingredients they had used that day and their properties.
That night, for the first time that week, Harry fell asleep with a contented sigh. Snape may not be the most approachable man on the planet - it was no secret that he hated James Potter - but today had shown the boy wizard a little glimpse of the man behind the facade.
-------------------------------------
"Professor, do muggles become ghosts when they die?"
Snape looked up sharply. It was two weeks after their first potions lesson and in that amount of time Harry had not mentioned anything outside of the curriculum. Harry was sitting a few feet away, slowly stirring a pot of honey bee eggs as they simmered over a low fire. The boy's face was a mask of concentration and Snape was not even sure if he had meant to voice the question aloud. After a brief hesitation, the man answered.
"I am unsure, Potter. To my knowledge one must be magical to a significant extent before such a transition can be successfully achieved at death. No, I do not think that they can." He saw the boy's face fall and quickly added. "I have heard of a muggle heaven where their dead are said to live for eternity in everlasting happiness. I cannot verify the validity of that claim, because honestly I am unsure of where muggles go when they die...if, in fact, their souls go anywhere."
Snape waited, studying the boy out of the corner of his eye to see if there would be any enlightening confession to follow such a strange question. Harry looked thoughtful for a few seconds, but he did not speak again.
"Do you wish to talk about it?" Snape asked, his silky voice non-judging. If the boy truly did have something bothering him Dumbledore would want to know about it. Snape would never admit to himself that he might be curious at the boy's actions.
Harry shifted uncomfortably on his seat. "No, that's okay. It's no big deal, nothing that I can't handle myself." The boy's reply was layered with false bravado.
Snape narrowed his eyes at the refusal. Clearly something was going on with the Potter boy. After all, what kind of normal wizard spews out random questions on muggle death? He was never normal, a voice in the back of Snape's mind spoke up with an evil smirking tone. The potions master shook his head to rid himself of the taunting inner voice.
Muttering a tempus spell, the Professor winced at the time and banished the potion Harry was working on.
"That will be all for today, I believe." Snape said, taking the stirring spoon from out of Harry's hand. "Good day, Potter."
After the boy left, Snape found himself starring at the closed door. Obviously something was bothering the boy. For a brief moment, he considered going after Potter to demand an explanation. He quickly shook this idea away and turned back to banish away the unused - and now useless - ingredients.
----------------------------------------
Harry stared at the window pane in front of him. Each breath left a small fog on the glass - the unnatural summer heat of just days ago had dissipated without warning. A large gray cloud covered the sun, rain threatened to follow the ominous rumblings of a nearby storm. Harry rested his head on his arm and tried not to think about his "family"...it wasn't working very well.
FLASHBACK
Aunt Petunia smoothed the non-existent wrinkles out of her pink dress and tidied her brunette curls.
"Come down, dear, it is almost time for the show to start. We do not want to be late." She called up the flight of stairs.
On the second floor, heavy footsteps warned of Uncle Vernon's approach as the large man stomped from the main bedroom to the stairs and then he appeared coming down them. When he reached the front door, Aunt Petunia gave him a loving peck on the cheek as she straightened his black bow tie. They left arm in arm.
Harry had watched the exchange unseen from the living room. Once his Aunt and Uncle were gone, he sank down into one of the plush chairs. With a heavy sigh he wished for the hundredth time that he had known his real parents. Harry didn't even know if they truly ever loved each other. A few moving wizard pictures and the Prophecy were all he had left of them. Remus talked of them a number of times, but never for long or in great detail. The subject was still hurtful for the werewolf.
Harry wondered if his mother had been anything like her sister. Aunt Petunia, although arrogant and controlling, could show love to those that she cared about. Harry had seen Dudley hugged and smothered in motherly kisses more times than he could count. There was so much love that these muggles had to offer and he only wanted a little.
END FLASHBACK
Now Harry never would know what it could have been like. Now he would have to live with the fact that his enemies killed them. No matter how cruel or insensitive they had been towards him, nobody deserved to die by the wand of a Death Eater. Harry shuddered and pushed his body away from the cold window.
Outside the sky gave way to tears and the parched grass looked up hungrily into the darkening light.
-----------------------------------------------
Harry trudged down to the dungeons the next afternoon. He arrived just in time for his scheduled lessons. After a long night of bad dreams and bad memories, he almost wished Snape would call the whole thing off. He was mentally, emotionally and physically exhausted. The potions master was leaning against a desk a few feet inside the door, a large potion book opened in his hands.
"Good evening, sir." Harry greeted the teacher tiredly.
"You will start on a skin purifying potion, Potter." Snape said, motioning the boy over and handing him the large book. "You will do it alone today. I will be here to supervise only."
Harry took the heavy book and sat it on the table where the cauldron was still set out. Carefully he got out all of the ingredients that the potion called for. The list appeared similar to the wart removal potion. It also required a familiar hour and fifty-five minutes of heating. He waited the time away in silence watching the time slowly tick by on his wrist watch. At the head desk, Snape went over the seventh year instruction plan that would commence at the end of summer. Once the time was up, Harry reached for the first three ingredients that would be sifted together. He glanced over the potion instructions once more in suspicion. There didn't appear to be any new steps.
"Isn't this the same as the wart removal potion?" He asked, his green eyes flashing up to meet Snape's gaze.
The potion master looked flushed and angry. "No, of course it's not! If you had paid any attention last time, you would know that." Snape snapped.
Harry hung his head, stung by the Professor's harsh tone. He had hoped to make it through this lesson without making his day worse, now it didn't look like that would happen. With a tired sigh, the boy leaned heavily against the table. All he really wanted to do was sleep, but since sleep was not an option, he thought he had better calm Snape down.
"I am sorry, sir. I must've forgotten a step." He apologized. "It won't happen again."
Snape huffed impatiently. "See that it doesn't, Potter. Your family may accept partial effort, but I do not."
FLASHBACK
"Get to work, Freak! Vernon's friends will be here soon and I want this floor looking spotless." Aunt Petunia's grating voice shrieked from the living room.
An eight year old Harry bent over the linoleum until the tiles shown like new. He had been working since dawn to make sure ever inch of the downstairs was clean for the expected arrival of Vernon's "friends". It was a wonder to the small boy that his Uncle has any friends at all.
"Hurry up, Freak!"
Harry scrubbed harder.
END FLASHBACK
"Did you hear a word I just said, Potter, or were you too busy day-dreaming?" Snape spit out the question.
Harry stumbled back into a desk as his mind snapped to the present. Snape was standing directly in front of him, pointing to something in the text book. It appeared he had been explaining something.
"Yes - No - I'm sorry." The words tumbled out of his mouth. For one awful moment he had thought it was his Uncle Vernon talking. This seemed silly now and he had to stop himself from groaning aloud. Harry blushed at the penetrating stare that Snape fixed him with. Dark brown eyes studied green. Finally, Snape shook his head.
"I doubt if you will get anything substantial done today. Go back to your tower, if you cannot get this under control, I am afraid I will have to suspend lessons."
Harry's shoulders slumped and he bent down to pick up his bag from the stone floor. When he reached he door, he stopped a moment and glanced back over his shoulder.
"I really am sorry, sir." He said quietly.
Snape turned back to the potion table and did not look up or acknowledge the words. His face hidden behind a veil of shiny black hair. With another heavy sigh, and an even heavier heart, Harry left the dungeons and make his way to the Gryffindor tower.
It didn't really matter to him that Snape thought he was a pampered little snot, but the potion lessons were actually a highlight in his otherwise boring schedule. Sure there were the few hours spent every week with McGonagall and Headmaster Dumbledore, but potions was so interesting! At the beginning of the day, he had wished for no more lessons so he could sleep, but now that it could become reality Harry found himself terrified of what the extra time could mean. Nightmares could sneak up just as easily as his "day-dreams" and he really didn't want to revisit the graveyard or the Tri-Wizard tournament.
-----------------------------------------
"How are your lessons with Harry going, Severus?" The Headmaster asked during tea that afternoon.
Every afternoon, the Headmaster asked up Professor Snape and they shared a companionable hour together over crumpets and tea. Snape shook his head in distaste at the mention of Potter.
"I do not know if I am truly helping him. At times, I can see him starting to understand - and then it is like he simply shuts down. I have caught him day-dreaming a number of times and I must admit that I sent him away on at least on occasion."
"It is unfortunate. I had thought he would be over the depression, at least partially." The old man remarked. "After so many days of distraction...I had hoped."
Snape looked over at him. "Depression? Why would the bloody Boy-Who-Lived be depressed? Does he not have all of Hogwarts catering to him? And in summer no less."
Dumbledore sucked in a shaky breath. "Is it true that you do not know? - I had assumed HE told you." The wrinkled hand holding his tea shook and he set it down so that it would not spill. "How could this be?"
Snape leaned forward in his seat, searching the Headmaster's eyes anxiously. "What is it? What should I know?"
"The boy's family are dead. Death Eaters killed them on the first day of summer break. If Voldemort did not tell you this, he must be suspicious."
Snape paled. "The Dark Lord no longer trusts me."
"It is what I fear." Dumbledore nodded. "If he did not tell you something as important as this."
Snape sat back in his chair, stunned. Then another thought occurred to him. "I think I may have been too hard on Potter. I have mentioned his family a number of occasions, he never mentioned - I had no idea that his family were killed."
Dumbledore smiled softly. "You will have plenty of time to make up for any harshness on your part, now that you know the truth." The old man sank deeper into his chair. "However, I fear for your safety, my friend. I can no longer ask you to spy for the Order. Any contact with the Dark Lord or his followers could prove deadly for you." The Headmaster's eyes shone with worry. "We will figure out a way to stifle his call. Of that, I give you my word. I promised you that I would when the time was right, it seems that time has been chosen for us."
--------------------------------------------
Severus Snape walked up the stone stairs that led to the Fat Lady's portrait entrance. He muttered under his breath about foolhardy Gryffindors as he did so.
"Damn hero complex." He spat at the floor.
"And what business do you have in my common room?" The Fat Lady asked defensively when Snape finally reached the base of her frame.
"I am here to see Potter." He announced
She stroked her hat in agitation. "Poor boy, I'm afraid he's not here."
"Do you know where he went?"
"No. You might try asking some of the other portraits. They get around more than I do, they might know where he is."
Snape turned on his heel in a flurry of black robes - which it was thankfully cool enough for him to wear - and retraced his steps.
After another hour of searching, he finally found Harry curled up in a library chair with Quidditch Through the Age tucked up to his chest.
"I need to talk with you, Potter." Snape cut to the chase.
Harry looked up. "With me?" He asked.
Snape crossed his arms over his chest. "Yes, with you!"
Harry shut the book and set it down on a shelf. He stood up.
"We can talk here..." Snape started uncertainly.
The boy sat back down. Snape used his wand to levitate another chair closer and then he sat as well. A hard silence fell between them. Finally, Snape cleared his throat.
"I am not very good at this, I apologize."
Harry's mouth fell open. He wondered briefly why the man would apologize to him. There were plenty of instances when he would have liked an apology from the oily haired git, but he never expected one. This just wasn't like Snape at all.
Snape shifted in his seat and his gaze jumped all over the room as he focused on everything but the boy in front of him. This would be much harder than he had thought.
"The Headmaster told me about your family this morning. I had not known."
Harry relaxed at this confession. Now at least he knew why Snape was acting to so out of character.
"Weren't you there?" The words came out of his mouth before he could stop them. The boy winced and waited for the potion master to go cold.
"No." There was no anger in the man's expression or voice.
Harry swallowed. "Lucius tried to kill me. It was him who killed my. family. I thought there had to be other Death Eaters there, but I never saw them." He swallowed again, this time to hold back the bile rising in his throat. He could hear his Aunt Petunia's dying scream played through his head suddenly accompanied by his mother's. They blended into a strange harmony of death and then Harry found that he couldn't breath. Everything seemed to slow down.
He became aware of firm hands on his shoulders and a voice near his ear, but he couldn't understand the words. A roaring sound filled his head and it felt like he was about to explode. Colors swam together, he could just make out a black blob in front of him, but he couldn't force his eyes to focus. Never before had his emotions gotten this far out of control and it frightened him. He struggled futilely against the pull of darkness, the screams seemed to go on forever. There was no way to stop them. Harry threw his hands over his ears and clenched his jaw against the memories of death that assailed him.
"Harry, breath!"
The yell broke through his panic and he sucked in a long breath. His lungs felt like they were on fire and his throat was raw. He shut his eyes tight, wanting to disappear. He stayed like that breathing in gasps.
"Harry, calm down. You are at Hogwarts, no one is screaming." The voice said soothingly. "You are safe now."
The hands on his shoulders moved, one started rubbing soft circles on his back and the other checked his pulse rate. He recognized the voice now, it was Snape.
"You are safe now." Snape repeated quietly,
Another shaky breath filled his lungs and Harry opened his eyes. He didn't want to look at the Professor, didn't want to face him. Ever.
"You have nothing to be ashamed of, anyone would cry."
Harry's brow furrowed in confusion then he felt the wetness on his cheeks. Tears were sliding unbidden down his face. A dark blush colored his neck and he felt mortified by the situation. It was bad enough he had experienced a panic attack, but having Snape be the one who witnessed it made it worse.
"I'm sorry, sir." He apologized thickly, swiping at his face with a sleeve of his robe.
"As I said, there is nothing to be ashamed of. Grief is natural...anyone in your position would react similarly."
Harry wondered what exactly his position was in the potion master's eyes. "It's just so hard." His confession surprised even him. He felt the hand on his back freeze at the words.
"I know." Snape confided gently. "It is hard to lose a loved one and this is not the first for you which will make it even harder."
"They didn't love me." Harry admitted to himself. "They never would...and I think" His breathe hitched. "That makes it even worse."
---------------------------------------------
"I take it you talked to the boy?" Dumbledore asked during their next tea.
"Yes." Snape replied carefully. "I believe he holds himself responsible for their deaths. He did say something strange, he said 'they never loved me'. Do you have any idea what he meant by that? I tried to get him to open up more, but grief counseling is not one of my strongest...areas. He left immediately after saying those words to me and I have not seen him since. The Red Baron informed me he was occupied in the Gryffindor tower."
Dumbledore nodded at his news, as if he already knew. "I will speak with the boy, but I would appreciate it if you continued to show him support this summer. Whatever animosity you felt against his father I sense that it no longer dictates your attitude towards the boy, make sure he sees this as well."
"No one should have to suffer through this kind of loss alone, that does not mean that I like Potter. Snape said adamantly, setting his tea cup down on the table. "And I will not be manipulated by you, old man. I will help the boy - I would help any Hogwarts student, but that does not make me his friend." He sneered out the word.
With that last comment, the potions master said his goodbye and stalked out of the room in his usual fashion. Dumbledore watched until the door closed behind the former Death Eater; he listened as the stairs groaned their way down a level, then he smiled. A full, mischievous smile that stretched from ear to ear. A bright twinkle flashed in his wise blue eyes.
"Friendship forms in the most unlikely places, Fawkes." He glanced over at the phoenix resting on its perch. The fire red bird raised an eyelid curiously as the man continued. "I do believe they will reach an understanding."
His grin fell then and a more serious matter clouded the temporary twinkle from his eyes. "However, there is more than one future to be rescued here. The cure to Severus' problems may lie with you, my pet." He stood and carefully picked the bird up in his arms, stroking the warm feathers.
---------------------------------------
Harry sighed heavily and tried not to think about what had happened between Snape and himself in the library, He had been at his weakest emotionally and how Snape used that information could prove disastrous. The random shadows of kindness the Professor has shown him over the past few weeks had left its mark and now Harry felt torn over whether to trust the man or not. If Snape was sincere in his attempts to help, Harry knew that he could use that support. If it was a plot of some kind - he shook of that disturbing line of thought.
A sense of loneliness fell over him and he felt like it might smother him. The boy pushed up from the chair and began to pace across the length of the maroon and gold common room. The lessons with McGonagall has stopped the day before when she had been called back home for a family emergency. He assumed it was nothing too urgent - as she had promised a soon return. With the extra time on his hands Harry knew he had to do something to keep his mind busy. Searching the castle for more hidden passageways to add to the Marauder's Map had taken less than a day with the help of the portraits and ghosts. They had been all too willing to help with his endeavor, but no significantly useful passages had been located. Apparently, Wormtail, Padfoot, Moony and Prongs had already discovered all of the good ones.
he smiled a little at his first memory of the map. The excitement that had come from knowing he could go anywhere he liked, the confusion when he saw Petigrew's name scrolled in tiny letters and the sadness when he realized that Sirius would never see the map again.
With a heartfelt sigh, he sat back on the chair. Pacing just took too much energy and he did not want to think about his dad, Sirius or the map any longer. Everything was too painful to think of - or at least, that is how it felt to him. He spent too much time thinking.
"Harry, someone is here to see you."
Dumbledore's cheerful voice called from the doorway. Harry looked over and saw the same bird like Patronus.
"Come down to the Great Hall."
This time it did not wait for his response before it flew back through the doorway. Harry stood, wondering who could be there to see him. He out the door at a jog, eager for a distraction.
----------------------------------------------
"Harry, it's great to see you!" Remus Lupin said.
Harry smiled happily up at his father's best friend as they withdrew from a long hug. The werewolves was thinner than ever and his patched, dusty clothing fell off him in folds.
"How are you doing, really, Remus?" Harry asked in concern, eyeing the man's significantly slight frame.
Remus laughed. "It's not as bad as it looks, Harry. I've just been very busy these last few months..." He paused. "I heard about your family, I am so sorry."
Harry looked up into the man's honest brown eyes. "It's okay. I'm okay." He lied readily. For a moment he didn't know who he was lying to, Remus or himself. "I've been keeping busy taking extra classes. Even Snape has been teaching me some more advanced potions."
The boy smiled and tried to appear normal. The last thing Harry needed was for the last person he loved to fall ill from concern and if there was one person who could, it would be Lupin. The man's protective tendencies were enhanced by his werewolf instincts.
"I'm glad to hear it, Harry." Remus said with a matching grin of his own.
Dumbledore, who had watched the proceedings from the side, clapped the man on the shoulder and started towards the door. "I'll just leave you two alone, I am sure that you have a lot to talk about."
Once the Headmaster had left, Remus and Harry sat down on a bench at he Hufflepuff table. Harry toyed with the yellow house cloth while they talked about unimportant things like the weather and Quidditch scores from the Harry's sixth year finale game.
"Have you finished grieving?" Remus asked unexpectedly.
Harry watched the man from under his long unruly black bangs. "I've grieved - yeah, I'm finished - I mean, of course, it's been almost a month."
"Harry." Lupin said softly. "Time has nothing to do with it. I still feel the loss of your parents, and Sirius...every day." The man fell silent.
Harry shifted uncomfortably and winced at the mention of Sirius.
"Why don't we go to Hogsmead?" He asked to change the subject. "I really have been meaning to go and you aren't around very often. I need to get some things before school starts and-."
Remus cut off his babbling with an amused chuckle. "Of course I'll take you to Hogsmead. Lets get us some coats first. Accio Harry's Cloak. Accio Lupin's Coat." His wand waved in the air in a circular pattern.
Harry watched fondly as the man shrugged into his beige coat. Maybe today wouldn't be so bad after all, he thought hopefully. It wouldn't be until later that he would remember potions with Snape.
---------------------------------------------
"Where is that infernal brat?" Snape demanded of the potion that he was stirring rather too vigorously. "He cannot even show up in time for a simple lesson, how does he ever expect to defeat the Dark Lord?" He muttered darkly.
An echo of running feet sounded outside the classroom door and then there was a timid knock. Snape rolled his eyes at the ceiling.
"Merlin preserve me!" And then louder. "Come in, Potter. You have taken quiet long enough getting here I do not need you wasting the next hour directly outside the door."
Harry entered uncertainly. "I am sorry, sir. I lost track of time Professor."
"Ah, so it is Professor, now is it." Snape said snarkily. "Remember that the next time you address me, Potter."
"Yes, sir - Professor."
Snape nodded in satisfaction. "Today we will be assessing your knowledge of healing potions. We'll start with a bone growing potion."
Harry felt a little encouraged by this, he felt confident of his abilities in this area. After all, he had drunk so many healing potions in his life, he knew most of them by taste and smell. The boy started towards the work table, convinced this would be a walk in the park compared to a normal potions lesson.
-----------------------------------------------------
Harry slumped down in his chair at the dinner table that night. Potions had been far from a walk in the park, it had been more like a drive through rush hour. He had not known which way was up by the end of Snape's "assessment".
"You seem tired, are you feeling well, Harry?" Remus asked in concern from across the table.
Harry tried to smile brightly, he only half succeeded. "Yeah, I'm fine. Potions just took a lot out of me, that's all."
There was a snort from Snape's end of the table.
"When are you leaving?" Harry asked, ignoring the Professor. He buttered another piece of bread as he waited for the answer. He hated asking the question, it seemed too...final.
Remus ate a spoonful of his soup before answering. "I will be leaving tonight." His tone softened. "I am sorry that I couldn't stay longer."
Harry felt like he'd been hit in the stomach. He had been expecting the man to stay for at least a few days. The boy shut his eyes tightly wishing away the world for a moment. Then he opened them again and tried to smile through his pain.
"Well, it was really nice to see you again, Remus." He added softly. "I'll miss you."
Remus reached over and squeezed the boy's hand. "I know. I'll miss you too, Harry."
------------------------------------------
"I'll miss you." Harry said softly.
Severus heard the longing and fear and heartache held in those three words. He stopped mid-chew and studied the young man. Harry's smile appeared forced as was the cheerful expression and light words that followed. Under all the pretense, Severus could see the wounded and grieving soul of a lost child. At that second of recognition, he vowed to do anything it took to see that look gone forever. No child deserved to feel that much pain, not even the son of James Potter. For one second, the potion master almost re-thought his hatred for the boy...then the werewolf stood to leave and Harry followed him out of the room. Whatever flicker of compassion he had felt died out. There was no way that he would give up the decades old grudge against Potter, but he would still try to help the boy where he could. Without being too obvious.
-----------------------------------------
Harry watched the moon rise slowly through the sky. Remus had left hours before, with a teary eyes farewell and promises of more visits to come. Harry felt a sob catch in the back of his throat. In that instant a strange foreboding welled up inside of him and he wondered if he would ever see Remus again.
Everyone left him.
With a troubled sigh, Harry rolled over in his bed and fell into a dark sleep haunted by nightmares.
----------------------------------------
Snape ate a bite out of his cookie as he turned the page of a potions theory book he as reading. Suddenly, his arm burst into flames of pain. They seemed to blossom from his Dark Mark and travel out to reach the rest of his body. It was almost as bad as the Cruciatus, not a normal "calling". He lunged from the chair and grabbed a handful of floo power.
"Dumbledore's office." He said through clenched teeth when he stepped into the fireplace.
He stumbled out of the Headmaster's floo, ash flying around him in a gray cloud. At his desk, Dumbledore looked up concerned.
"Severus?"
Snape stumbled over to a chair, his arm held close to his chest as if to ward off the pain. "He is calling me to him."
----------------------------------------------
Beads of sweat formed on Harry's face. He twitched in his dream as a vision slowly started to form, taking over his mind.
"You were correct, my Lord. Severus has not apparated here yet, he must be the spy." Lucius Malfoy reported kneeling in front of Harry's line of sight.
"He will pay for his treachery." Harry felt his own mouth form the words, but they came out as Voldemort's oily voice. "I will summon all of our number. You, my loyal servant, will fetch Snape to me!"
Lucius bowed low and donned the white mask he had held in one hand. "Yes, my Lord."
Harry awoke with a start. He jerked up into a sitting position and gasped in panic. They were after Snape! That meant Lucius Malfoy would come to Hogwarts. The boy got out of bed and stood on shaking legs. The visions always left him disoriented. He started down the stairs to the common room. He could floo to the Headmaster's office from there.
Once at the fireplace he grabbed up a handful of the silver powder and flung it into the fire, then he stepped in.
"Dumbledore's Office." He enunciated clearly.
The screams of pain that met his ears almost made him fall to the floor. He clapped both hands over his ears at the disturbing sound. looking for the source, he saw Professor Snape curled up on a transfigured sofa, his right arm clutched tightly against his body.
"Headmaster!" Harry called out to the older man at Snape's side. "The Death Eater - Voldemort is sending a Death Eater here!"
Snape heard this and his cries of pain ceased momentarily. "Lucius?" He asked, his voice raw.
Harry nodded, his stomach flipping at the pure terror that flashed across the potion masters face. "Yes. He knows you are a spy...Voldemort is calling all of the Death Eaters to him. He sent Lucius to come and 'retrieve' you." He swallowed against the bile rising in his throat.
"Then we will just have to be ready for him." Dumbledore said, his jaw set in determination. "Fawkes." He called to the phoenix. It swooped into the air and came to land on the old man's shoulder. "Do what you can for Severus, my pet."
The bird nodded its head and jumped the short space to the sofa, where Snape lay. The mythical bird walked carefully across the man's chest and rested its feathered head on the man's marked arm. a single tear trickled down it's feathered face and soaked into the dark robes. Instantly, Snape's entire body relaxed.
He breathed in relief. Snape looked up at Dumbledore, a bemused expression flashing across his face. "You did not know if it would work, did you?" He asked weakly.
Dumbledore smiled grimly. "No. I did not, but we need you to be ready when your former companions arrive."
Snape sat up, his hand resting on Fawke's head for a brief moment. "Thank you, Fawkes." He said softly. The bird bowed its head in silent acknowledgement and then flew back to its perch by the Headmaster's desk.
"Do you have a plan, Headmaster?" Harry asked,
-----------------------------------------------------------
Voldemort scanned the courtyard in front of him. A full moon lit the stone arch that led to Hogwarts' main door.
"Spread out. Lucius, bring me the traitor."
Black forms separated into small pockets of Death Eaters and they all melted into the shadows, save one, which walked forward with wand out and raised.
"Yes, my Lord." Lucius said.
He walked up the stairs and with a forceful Alohamora, entered the school building. Under the combined dark powers of the entire Death Eater clan, the school's massive wards fell. Leaving it completely open to attack. With only a few teachers on the grounds and the Potter child, they would meet little opposition.
----------------------------------------------------
"He's in the building. There are at least twenty of them, maybe more. Lucius is searching the dungeons alone." Harry reported, his eyes glazed over as a waking vision showed him what Voldemort saw in the dark halls many stories below.
Minerva McGonagall, Snape, Dumbledore, Madam Pomfrey and Filch all sat around Harry their eyes fixed in expectation on the young boy. Every living soul in the school had flooed to the safety of the Headmaster's office. All they could do was wait for the inevitable to happen. Disconnecting the floo had been the first thing they had done, followed by a myriad of wards for the door and gargoyle guarding it.
"I feel so...happy." Harry whispered in a monotone vice. His muscles were completely relaxed and he was no longer aware of the others. All he felt was Voldemort's overwhelming presence. "So happy...Dumbledore won't expect it...the boy will be killed. I'll kill the boy-kill the boy-kill them all!"
"Harry, wake up." Dumbledore ordered softly. He lay a hand on the boy's shoulder. Harry jerked at the touch and gasped. "It is alright, Harry, we are here to protect you."
Harry shivered and hugged himself. "I hate being inside of is head, sir. I hate it so much." His eyes brightened, but he blinked away the tears before they could fall.
"I know, my boy, but it will all be over soon."
Harry nodded, the coldness inside his mind making him shiver again. He had to e strong and ready to fight when the Dark Lord arrived.
--------------------------------------------------------
"There's no one here." Snyde Knot, a junior Death Eater, announced with disgust.
"Of course there is, you nitwit! They're hiding, that's all." Another Death Eater admonished from the shadows of a deserted class room.
"Shhhhhhhhhh! Will you two shut up, what if they hear us?" A third added angrily.
"Right, and you call yourself silent, do you?" Knot muttered under his breath as he entered another darkened room, his wand at the ready.
Out of a corner, a white figure appeared and knot felt himself being shoved backwards, a broken vase rolling away on the floor. He dabbed a hand to his forehead where the object had struck him and drew it away to find blood. Standing up, the man backed quickly away from the doorway and back to where his fellow Death Eaters were arguing.
In the blackness of the classroom, behind a cupboard, Peeves laughed into his hand.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Voldemort steadily made his way towards the Headmaster's office. He knew where they were, he could easily sense Harry Potter in his mind. It would be so wonderful to be able to kill him once and for all.
"You won't escape me this time, boy." He said, knowing that Harry would hear him or at the least, feel his intent through their link. The boy would know who killed him - and he would beg for life before the end.
------------------------------------------------------------
Lucius Malfoy gritted his teeth in anger as he finished searching Severus' private quarters. The Professor wasn't there and it looked like he had left in a hurry. The Death Eater had found a plate of cookies and overturned book beside a plush black chair. Snape had probably been having a quiet, relaxing evening when the Dark Lord had summoned him. Lucius grinned as he imagined the look of pure terror and pain that must have flashed across the traitor's face.
Lucius glanced once more around the empty room, trying to find some clue that might lead him to the traitor's location. His silver eyes stopped searching when his gaze fell upon the fireplace.
"The Headmaster's office." He announced victoriously to the empty room.
----------------------------------------------------------
"He's here." Harry warned at the exact moment that a blasting curse bounced off the outside door. The teenage boy watched the door. "He's alone, for now."
"All ready, then?" Dumbledore asked those around him.
Minerva nodded and shook her wand out of a hidden pocket in her cloak sleeve. Filch stroked Mrs. Norris as if nothing out of the ordinary were taking place while Madam Pomfrey came to stand beside Snape, who still felt the weakening affects from the intense pain his tattoo had caused. Dumbledore came to stand protectively in front of Harry, both of them had their wands drawn.
"Sir." Harry stated uncertainly. "We know - from the graveyard - that Voldemort's wand and my own cancel each other out. Maybe I should be in front."
The Headmaster looked back over his shoulder and frowned. "Certainly not."
There was another loud jingling sound to alert them of the wards falling and then the door burst apart into a million pieces. When they settled, Voldemort stood in the doorway.
"Cowering, like frightened children." Voldemort's red eyes sought out Snape. "Traitors and cowards, how appropriate."
"None of us will die today, Voldemort, but your future is not looking so bright to my eyes." Dumbledore said with finality. "You are evil and we will destroy you."
Voldemort laughed, his cackle echoing off the office walls. "You destroy ME? I would dearly like to see you try, old man." His lips twisted into a manic grin. "Die now. Avada Kadav-."
"Avada Kadavra."
The green curse hit Voldemort squarely on the chest, killing him instantly. The pale and misshapen body fell to the floor with a dull thud. Every eye turned to Snape who stood unsteadily next to the sofa, his wand held in a shaking hand. The man's dark eyes were fixed on Harry Potter.
"He is dead..."Snape said slowly, in shock. "You killed him."
"No!" A new voice cried in anguish.
Harry looked to the doorway, where Lucius Malfoy stood, his Death Eater mask held in one hand just outside the room. His silver eyes were fixed on the dead body of his Lord. With a frantic gesture the man turned and ran down the stairway. In the next instant they all heard a distant pop of apparation. No one moved.
----------------------------------------------
VOLDEMORT DEAD
Twenty Death Eaters Captured
Harry did not go on to read the rest of the news column. He set down the borrowed copy of the Daily Prophet and went back to eating his fried eggs and ham.
The day before seemed like years ago, not mere hours. His hands were still shaking from the intense adrenaline rush, he had not been able to rest after the darkest of curses left his wand. With Voldemort distracted by Snape it had taken little skill to quickly send the spell. The fact that his Killing Curse had worked is what worried Harry. Any wizard could utter the words, but it required a large amount of dark energy and will to actually make the curse work. This he had learned in DADA.
Harry stopped eating, his fork clattering to the table top. He was a dark wizard, he had committed murder. These two thought seemed to override all others. Without speaking to anyone, he left the Great Hall and went to the Gryffindor tower.
----------------------------------------------
Snape watched Harry carefully all morning. The man knew, from his dark past, what kind of toll killing took from the innocent. He still remembered every detail of his first murder, the clear memory only served to increase his concern for the silent Potter. The boy had not spoken a single word since the killing curse had left his wand and Severus found himself concerned for him.
When Harry got up unexpectedly and left without finishing even a third of his food, Snape began to follow him, unsure of what the teenager would do to himself. The man knew how it felt to discover one-self capable of the most horrendous crime. The fact that Harry's actions had been out of self-defense and not evil intentions made the difference between what Severus had done and what Harry had been forced to do.
The boy didn't seem to notice that he was being tailed as he walked slowly up to the Gryffindor common room. Snape watched from the base of the stone stairway as Harry wearily said the password and entered through the portrait door.
----------------------------------------------
Harry slumped on the couch unsure of what to do next. He did not feel like reading Quidditch books, but neither did he feel like sitting there doing nothing. Ever since last night, when he had said the unforgivable, memories had been flashing through his mind. He remembered his families death. He had not heard Lucius actually utter the Avada Kadavra that had killed them, but now he knew what it must have felt like. He was a killer now. A killer had murdered his family. He was a murderer.
Shaking his head to stop the strange flow of thoughts before he could reach a more disturbing conclusion, Harry stood and began to pace across the common room floor. He wished - not for the first time - that Ron and Hermione could be there with him to help this. He knew that the Death Eaters still at large left the school unsafe for any more people. At present it did not appear that the school would even be opening at the beginning of the year. With the wards damaged so severely it would be months before they were back up to full strength, although anti-apparation wards were already in place, set by Snape and McGonagall. Harry thought for a long second, trying to remember when exactly the Gryffindor Head of House had returned to the school. Last he had heard, the witch had been home with her family. Shrugging, he turned to the window.
Outside it was beautiful day. Blue skies seemed to beg for him to fly, while a cool breeze softly blew white clouds past the distant mountain. A sudden urge to escape the confines of the castle seized him and Harry found himself down the stone stairway outside the common room before he had even formulated a destination. Hagrid's Hut. The half-giant wasn't actually there, but the large cozy room always seemed like a second home. The strange - and often illegal - creatures housed inside were more comforting than frightening. Now that he knew they wouldn't eat him alive, that is. Harry still remembered his first introduction to the baby dragon Hagrid had presented first year. That seemed like ten life-times ago. Instead of years ago.
His feet beat a quick path through the courtyard. He felt a tingle of residual dark energy as he passed through. Then the teenager started down the large stone path that wound it's way down the side of the hill. It rained early that morning and the stones were slippery and reflecting the morning sun. In another two hours they would be dried and no evidence of the rain would remain. That is how Harry felt about his life. With Voldemort gone, he would just drift into the background of everyone's lives and eventually fade forever. At least, that is what he dreaded would happen. It wasn't that he wanted to be worshipped or anything, but at least he had been useful before. Now, he was just another paragraph for the history books.
A soft sigh brushed past his lips as he pushed the heavy wooden door of the hut open with his shoulder. Flobberworms groaned from a darkened corner; a brown fur pelt lay on the floor below a window to keep the rain off the floor since the window had been left cracked open for the bats. Harry turned in a circle and let his gaze wander, searching for something to keep his interest. His green eyes settled on a partially covered book leaning against the wall by the door. It was covered in mud and water stains and appeared to have been used for a doorstop on more than one occasion. the fact that Hagrid, who couldn't read or write, would have a book in his house seemed peculiar and so Harry stooped down and picked it up. He had to rub a streak of dirt off the spine with his robe sleeve so that he could discern the title, Quidditch Through the Ages: Edition 1. Harry felt his breath hitch as a suspicion bloomed, he hastily opened the front cover and stared at his mother's flowing script on the inside flap. It read, To James Potter from Lilly Evans.
Tears started to flow then and Harry let them. For once he wasn't going to feel ashamed, for once he didn't have too. No longer was he the Boy-Who-Lived and no longer was he the only hope of the wizarding world. Weakness didn't matter anymore. he had killed Voldemort and in the process murdered every expectation that had ever been placed heavily on his young shoulders. Sobs cut through the silence of the hut, but no one was there to hear. Harry hugged the book to his chest possessively and made his way over to a giant sized wooden chair at the head of the table. He sat in it and wept for all the years of pain he had hidden from the world. At that moment, he decided not to hide ever again. it might be hard to change, but he was not going to be governed by other people's wants anymore. His life belonged to him now and not Voldemort or Dumbledore or the Ministry of Magic. It belonged to Harry Potter.
-----------------------------------------------
Snape muttered a frantic Lumos and spared a brief glance into the obviously empty room before moving on to the next. Harry, the confounded boy, could not be found! Dumbledore had discovered the boy's appearance when he called him down for lunch. Now it was well past three o'clock in the afternoon. The wards had not failed a second time, so no Death Eater had entered the castle unknown. That meant the boy was hiding from them, on purpose!
Snape snorted as he left another empty room. It would be just like that arrogant Potter to think that he did not have to inform a teacher if he chose to go off in a corner and mourn lost innocence. it was no mystery to Snape that last night's Avada Kadavra would be the foremost in the boy's mind.
A soft growl made its way up his throat and past clenched teeth. The last thing he needed was a suicidal Potter on his hands hours after being liberated from a lifetime of servitude. This day should be one he spent celebrating. Instead, he was searching empty classrooms while the rest of the teachers checked the upper levels and grounds. Minerva had volunteered to do rounds outside the castle, Snape suspected she wanted to meet a lone Death Eater attempting to access the school. She had not been able to join in last night when the lagging Death Eaters were captured and held for imprisonment. The Gryffindor Head of House had a protective streak of iron under all of her maternal tendencies.
"Where is he?" Snape muttered darkly to the cold hall floor as he made his way to the next section of doorways.
------------------------------------------------------
Minerva frowned down at her dew covered hem and said a few choice words in Latin. Instantly, the dampness disappeared. With a satisfied nod the woman stepped onto a large stone in the pathway that lead down to Hagrid's Hut. She had previously made a complete circuit of the castle grounds and the Hut was all that remained. Her brow furrowed in worry as she thought of how long her young Gryffindor had been missing. What if he had become overcome with panic? or accidentally crossed the ward bounds. Dumbledore assured her this was not the case and his monitoring spells would have alerted them instantly.
Once the Professor reached the large wooden door to Hagrid's home, she used her wand to open it soundlessly. The last thing that she needed were noisy Flobberworms greeting her with their grotesque noises. She shivered just thinking about the revolting creatures. Her breath caught in her throat, seated at the table, in a very large wooden chair, Harry Potter slept with his face resting on a dirty old book. Minerva relaxed marginally and sent her sphinx Patronus to the Headmaster so that they would know the boy had been found.
"Harry?" She shook his shoulders gently.
He moaned and turned his head away, this new position revealed tear tracks and puffy red eyes to Minerva.
"Oh. oh, dear." Minerva tutted and shook the shoulders more firmly. "Come on Harry, wake up, my boy."
He stirred.
"Hmmm?" He asked, looking up at her sleepily through lopsided glasses.
"You need to wake up. You have been gone for hours, we missed you at lunch and got worried when we couldn't find you."
Harry readjusted his glasses so that they rested straight on his nose. "I fell asleep."
"Yes, I can see that." She smiled. "Now, come on, we need to get you back to the castle."
"Alright. Professor McGonagall, I found something...it belonged to James - my father." Harry brought the book up to his chest again and hugged it close.
Minerva watched him for a long moment, starring at the book there did seem to be something familiar about it now that Harry mentioned it.
"Lilly's wedding present to your father. A first addition, I believe." Minerva said finally. "He never went anywhere without it."
Harry looked down at it in awe. "I can keep it?" He asked hopefully. At her confirming nod he grinned.
"We must be getting back, dear. It is almost four in the afternoon."
The boy gaped at her. "Are you serious?"
With a shooing motion, she got him out the door and they went back up to the main school building.
--------------------------------------------------
The Headmaster sipped his tea slowly and thoughtfully.
"We must find a suitable place for Harry until the wards here have been strengthened. it must be secure, but I do not think that Grimwauld Place is satisfactory - too many memories there for the boy." The old man stroked his beard.
"What about Minerva? She seems to have taken to him like a second mother." Severus suggested, his voice dripped disgust. "They are perfect for each other. Together there would be enough Gryffindor idiocy to keep any Death Eater at bay."
Dumbledore glared over his glasses. "I did not have time to tell you before, but Minerva has requested a few months of leave. Her husband has been sent to St. Mungo's. It is believed that a Death Eater subjected him to a prolonged Cruciatus curse in an attempt to rid the school of another teacher before their strike last night."
Severus nodded. "That is likely. So, not Minerva's home. Where then? All of the other teachers here at Hogwarts either have family or poorly defendable dwellings. I suppose you could take him?"
"No, with Voldemort dead the entire Wizarding government is going to be re-organized. That will take some special handling." There was a dark hint in the old man's voice.
Snape frowned. "You really must stop manipulating everyone. It is becoming a habit."
Dumbledore shrugged, a twinkle in his eyes. "Perhaps."
Severus took another sip of his tea and worried the cuff of his black robe sleeve. "That does not help us at all with the question of where to send Potter."
"Harry." Dumbledore stressed the word. "Is in more danger now than he was before. Instead of Riddle attempting to stop a prophecy from fulfillment, we have an entire clan of Death Eaters seeking revenge. They are not going to be rational and hardly predictable. I need to know that he is safe." There was a long pause during which Dumbledore stared hard at Snape as if deciding something. "I believe that you should take him. No one else will be able to think like they do and...frankly, you have a more secure home than I do - and that is truly saying something."
Snape froze mid-swallow, the hot liquid burning his throat. "What?" He sputtered finally. "You want me to take the Potter boy?"
"Harry." Dumbledore stressed, exasperated.
"Harry." Snape conceded grinding his teeth together loudly. "What am I suppose to do with him for months? He hates me!" He stated victoriously as if that settled the matter.
"Oh, I think that hate is a little strong."
"No! He does...just ask him." Snape grinned smugly. "If he willingly agrees to come and live with me then I will agree to have him and NO manipulation!" He added quickly. "It must be an independent decision."
The Headmaster smiled. "Agreed."
------------------------------------------------------
"You can put your trunk over there, the ride is a long one and you will probably want it handy." Snape said acidically, pointing to a far corner of their shared train compartment. Harry quickly went to do what he was told. Then he sat down on a seat opposite Snape.
There was a lurch beneath their feet and then the train started forward slowly at first, gaining in speed with every second. Harry contented himself with looking out of the window at the passing countryside. Two days ago, Voldemort had attacked the castle, two days ago the world changed. Everything looked different to The-Boy-Who-Lived. Before, whenever he looked out the window he was thinking of that blasted PROPHECY or his Aunt and Uncle or the mystery of what magic was. Now, he had fulfilled the prophecy, lost his family and knew magic could not solve life's problems.
"You seem pensive. I assure you that the trains accommodations are not at all what you are used to." Snape broke the silence with a wave of his hand, he was motioning towards the benches they sat on. "All you have to do is touch them with your wand and say 'Transform' then a bed will appear."
Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise. "How come nobody told us first year?"
Snape gave him a stern look. "Over a hundred unsupervised teenage students of mixed gender...in compartments. A bed would hardly be appropriate."
Harry blushed. "I guess you're right - um, yeah." He stammered embarrassed. Honestly that had never occurred to the boy.
Snape ignored his discomfort and reaching for his own bag he pulled out a copy of that days Daily Prophet and proceed to become immersed in the gossipy columns.
It did not take long for Harry to get bored and then, as always seemed to be the case these days, his thoughts turned to the Dursleys. Their dying screams, the crash of his Aunt's body falling. Lucius standing in the doorway to his room, a silhouette of darkness, the killing curse on his tongue. Harry's breathing hitched and he tried to squelch the urge to cry again. The boy felt annoyed with himself, it seemed that he could not go ten minutes without crying. This was not the first time he had lost family...and they were not even close to him, so why was this hitting him so hard? he felt confused and unsure. Hugging himself the boy curled himself into a corner of the bench and closed his eyes. Maybe it was just stress and lack of sleep, if he took a quick nap it might help him regain better control of his emotions. With this comforting thought Harry allowed sleep to steal over his mind, lulled by the rocking motion of the train, he dreamed.