Harry hardly knew what he was doing as he carried the empty cage up to the Owlery and finally found Hedwig asleep with her head under her wing. He couldn't believe what was happening any more than he could understand it. Snape was still far from nice, but he hadn't snapped at Harry since before they had taken the Portkey to Hogwarts. And then there was the whole matter of this legilimency thing; Harry didn't like the idea of Snape being able to know what he was thinking, and that sounded very much like what Dumbledore and Snape had been talking about.

"Come on, Hedwig," Harry coaxed, and the snowy owl pulled her head out from under her wing. When her amber eyes found Harry, she hooted and flew down to land on his shoulder and nip his ear. He held up her cage and said, "Get in, Hedwig."

Hedwig's eyes narrowed and she hooted disdainfully at the cage. "Don't worry," Harry reassured her. "You won't be locked in this time. We're going with Professor Snape -- he's the one who let you out earlier today, remember?" But Hedwig still just looked at Harry, so he said encouragingly, "Go on, it'll be all right. He can't be worse than the Dursleys, can he?"

Hedwig seemed to believe him, for she landed neatly in her cage and allowed Harry to close the door; but Harry was really trying to convince himself as much as the owl. The decision was made, but he was still not quite sure about Snape, whatever he kept telling himself. Things still seemed more than a little strange, and he couldn't get over that feeling. Maybe he was just being paranoid; Harry hoped so.

"Have you found your owl, Harry?"

Harry turned to see none other than Albus Dumbledore standing there, framed in the door to the Owlery. "Yes, sir," he said automatically, raising Hedwig's cage a little so that the snowy owl was clearly visible.

"Ah, so I see," Dumbledore said with a small smile. "We had best begin the walk downstairs, then, Harry; I believe Professor Snape is waiting rather impatiently by the castle doors."

This seemed to worry Harry, who didn't want to make Snape angry at him already, and it did not escape the headmaster's attention. "You are uncertain about spending the rest of your summer vacation with Professor Snape," Dumbledore observed as they walked down the stairs from the Owlery.

"A little," Harry admitted after a short pause. "He always seems to hate me so much..."

"Professor Snape does not hate you, Harry. If he hated you, he would likely have left you to your aunt and uncle. Do you not realize that?"

"I guess."

Dumbledore sighed and said quietly, "Severus Snape and James Potter detested each other from the first time they met on the train to Hogwarts. That dislike only grew with time.. for many reasons. At the same time, it was the fault of neither of them, and of both of them."

Harry tried to decipher what this meant, but he had no luck. Dumbledore seemed to like speaking in riddles.

"I must ask you to remember this, Harry," the headmaster continued. "Professor Snape despised James Potter, and he holds a grudge against him to this day. But, Harry, however much you may resemble him in features, or even in actions from time to time.. you are not your father. Professor Snape will realize that in time."

Harry was silent, thinking to himself. He hoped that Dumbledore was right, and that whenever "in time" was, it came soon.

*~*~*

Contrary to whatever Dumbledore might have thought, Severus was not even thinking of where Harry was now as he stood still as a statue by the front doors. His mind was in the past, thinking over things that had happened and things that had been said. Most of them were quite depressing, and even those that weren't were still saddening, because they filled him with regret when they came to mind.

Severus didn't know why, but on top of those memories, he kept thinking of finding Potter asleep in that corridor. Was it because he had realized then that the boy wasn't entirely his father made over? Or was it perhaps because he had seen Lily in those eyes, not just Potter himself? They were her eyes exactly, as much as the rest of the boy's face was James's.

Then again, there was another possilibity. It could also have something to do with the fact that the boy seemed so at peace in Hogwarts, just like Severus himself had all those years ago. Maybe he was beginning to see himself in the boy!? Severus shook his head at the thought; it was absolutely ridiculous. The boy was too much like James Potter to be at all like anyone else.. except maybe Lily. Maybe. Severus wasn't sure yet.

"Ah, there you are, Severus," Dumbledore said serenely as he and Harry appeared at the door. "I hope we did not keep you waiting for too long?"

"Of course not, Headmaster," Severus answered, turning to face them. "You have your things, Potter?" he asked, and Harry nodded. "You repacked your books and parchment?"

Harry froze, looked thoughtful, and then set Hedwig's cage down on the steps. "I think I left them in the corridor," he said apologetically. "I'll, er, be right back." He disappeared back inside, and Dumbledore chuckled.

"You find this amusing, Headmaster?" Severus asked quietly.

"Oh, I don't know," Dumbledore answered bemusedly. "Perhaps interesting would be closer to the mark."

"What is interesting about it? I see only that the boy would forget his own head, were it not so securely fastened to his neck."

"Because that is what you want to see, Severus," Dumbledore said gently. "You expect to see the man you hated in him, and so you do. However, this causes you to overlook the greater part of him, the part which does not resemble James at all."

Severus was silent for a long moment before he spoke again. "I... am beginning to see Lily in him," he admitted at last. He seemed to be about to go on when Dumbledore interrupted: "Ah, but Severus; Lily is not the only one who could look at Harry and see herself inside him."

There was a pause; Severus did not know what to say to this, and Dumbledore seemed content just to let his thought hang in the air. Then Harry was back, stuffing the books, homework, and quill with ink bottle back inside his trunk, and Severus turned his attention away from what Dumbledore had said.

"Did you take anything else out of your trunk?" he asked and, upon a negative answer, instructed, "Then we will be going. If you will carry your owl to the gates, I shall manage the rest." Harry nodded, picked up Hedwig's cage, and set off across the grounds. Severus raised his wand to levitate the trunk and broomstick, but Dumbledore held him back.

"You must give him a chance, Severus," Dumbledore said almost imploringly. "Let him show you who he really is. Don't look for James in him; look at Harry himself, and you might be surprised at who you see." Then, with a small smile and a twinkle from his blue eyes, he said "Have a good summer" and went back inside. But, as Severus brought Harry's things to the gates, the headmaster's words resounded in his head.

*~*~*

Harry wasn't sure what to think of the next place to which Snape brought him. Upon releasing the Portkey (this time a rather large stone which looked like it had once been a part of the walls around the castle), he found himself in what looked like it had once been a subdivision of fine brick houses, laid out by a river and overshadowed by an old mill. Now, though, the mill was a crumbling ruin and most of the houses looked like they should have been condemned long ago.

"Where are we?" Harry asked as he gazed with vague interest at the huge chimney which had once been part of the mill.

"Spinner's End," Snape said simply, glancing at a weather-worn street sign to his right which bore that very name. He did not seem to be in the mood to elaborate, however, and Harry did not press the matter; he just followed the Potions master down the rather run-down cobblestone street, right to the very end of it.

"Is this where you live?" Harry asked curiously as he looked up at a two-story brick building, the last no the street. It seemed considerbaly better-kept than the others and, as he spoke, Snape was unlocking the door with magic.

"Yes," Severus answered blandly, sounding completely unconcerned about whatever Harry might think of the place. The door opened silently and Harry peered with interest around Snape and into the room beyond.

His first thought was that it looked rather like an old, rarely-visited library. Bookshelves lined every wall, leaving gaps only for two doors (one of which they had just come through) and a single, curtained window facing the east. There was an old sofa and armchair in the middle of the room, along with a spindly table that looked as though it should already have collapsed beneath the weight of several large leatherbound books that lay on top of it.

It was nothing at all like the Dursleys', and definitely not like old Mrs. Figg's. Harry didn't think that all wizard houses were like this one, though; he couldn't see Ron existing in a place with so many books, it would be like trying to lock him in the library at Hogwarts. Actually, Harry hadn't really thought of Snape as the book type; he had pictured some sort of dark dungeon-like room, full of potions supplies and maybe a couple of cauldrons. Now, he realized how silly that idea was. No one could live underground all the time, no matter how much they might seem at home there.

Harry had just realized that this was the first house he could ever remember being inside that didn't belong to the Dursleys or Mrs. Figg when he noticed that Snape was watching him again. It was rather unnerving, how he kept standing silently and watching Harry, as if expecting him to suddenly go berserk and start throwing things. Harry didn't understand why he was doing it, and in truth, Severus himself didn't, either. Perhaps Dumbledore's words were finally beginning to get to him; or maybe he still didn't trust the son of James Potter. At the moment, even Severus could not really tell.

"Come, Potter," he said, levitating the trunk and broomstick again. "I will show you to your room."

Harry expected Snape to head for the only other door leading from the room, but no; he pointed his wand at one of the rows of books and another, hidden door flew open, revealing a staircase leading upward. Now, this seemed like something one might expect from a wizarding house, Harry thought as he followed Snape up the stairs with Hedwig's cage.

At the head of the stairs was a long hallway with peeling, light blue wallpaper, illuminated by several tall candles whose stands were fastened securely to the walls. There were no windows, only doors -- one at the end of the hall, and two on each side. That made five rooms; Harry wondered how many people had lived here at one time. Did Snape have siblings? It was a strange thought, but it wasn't impossible.

Severus proceeded to the second door on the left and turned the knob with his free hand. As he levitated the trunk and broomstick inside, he thought that the place didn't look as empty as he remembered. Then again, that could be because he hadn't opened this door in years.

There weren't any cobwebs or even much dust in the room, however; it was as if spiders avoided the place. The wallpaper was pale gold, with thin white lines running vertically across it. There was a bed against one wall, and the quilt on top of it was of the same gold as the wallpaper. Against the other wall stood a tall wardrobe, and next to it, a door which stood slightly ajar to reveal a bathroom with tiles of pale green. There was only one window in this room, as well; and it, too, had a drawn curtain over it, hiding whatever was behind it from view. There was a hardwood desk and a spindly chair beneath the window.

"Wow," Harry said softly upon entering, the green eyes behind his glasses taking in every inch of the room. It was a lot bigger than Dudley's second bedroom, and even though there wasn't much in it and it seemed to have been deserted for a while, the room looked nice. After a moment, he looked back at Snape, half wary and half curious. "This is my room?"

Severus had been watching the boy again as he stared around the room. He didn't like the look on Harry's face; it was as if he had never seen anything of the sort before. Then again, Severus reminded himself, he probably hadn't, after being locked up in that Muggle dunghill for eleven years. Something like anger (but that couldn't be it, Severus told himself, there was no way he could feel defensive of James Potter's son) sprang up inside him when Harry asked if this was his room.

"Of course it is," Severus answered coldly. "Were you expecting a cupboard?"

Harry turned red and Severus's black eyes narrowed. He had to fight back a sudden desire to look into the boy's mind; but that was not a good idea, he told himself. Dumbledore did not approve of legilimency, and Severus needed Dumbledore on his side. So he just resigned himself to trying to work out for himself why the boy had seemed so embarrassed by this suggestion. Naturally, none of his conclusions were good ones.

Meanwhile, Harry was trying to understand what he had done to make Snape angry again. Had it been just because he had asked a question? It was very possible, he thought; the Dursleys had hated questions more than anything. Maybe Snape was the same way. Suddenly Harry was dreading the next three weeks; he had only been here for two minutes and already he had made Snape angry!

It was Severus who broke the silence first. "You should unpack your things and open the door of your owl's cage," he said, his voice perfectly void of emotion again. "I don't imagine that she is very happy with it after being locked inside all summer. You may use the wardrobe," he added, glancing at the object as he spoke. Then he turned on his heel to face the door, saying as he did so, "Dinner is at seven o'clock, Potter -- that gives you twenty minutes, I suggest you use them wisely."

Harry had one more thing he wanted to ask, but he bit his tongue at first, not wanting to make Snape angry as he seemed to have a minute before. He had to know, though, so just as Snape had begun out the door, he spoke up: "Sir -- Professor Snape? Am I -- am I allowed to send a letter with Hedwig, now?"

Severus stopped in the doorway when the boy spoke, and he turned around with a strange look in his eyes at the tone of voice. Potter seemed hesitant, as if he were afraid he was going to be shouted at; but then again, was that really surprising, considering where he had just come from? That strange feeling like anger burned inside him again, but this time when Severus spoke, his voice did not betray it as it had the last time.

"Yes, I suppose so; it would hardly be advisable to cut you off from the rest of the world entirely. You may send letters, so long as you agree not to mention Hogwarts."

"I won't," Harry promised. Severus nodded and left, closing the door behind him as he went.

Harry had no doubts about what he was going to do first now that he was alone and had permission to send a letter. He opened Hedwig's cage, and she hooted happily and took flight, landing after a moment on top of the wardrobe. Then he threw open his trunk and pulled out a roll of parchment and the same quill and ink bottle he had been using earlier. He took a seat in the spindly chair, laid the parchment out before him, and began to write:

He signed his name in an almost illegible scrawl and gave the letter to Hedwig. He had thought about asking Ron about legilimency, but he didn't know how to spell it and he figured that he would have a better chance of finding out what it was if he asked Hermione later, anyway.

The view behind the curtains was actually not that bad. The bit of the river that you could see through the window wasn't entirely muddy, and there was only a little rubbish thrown along its banks. It wasn't as bad as the place they had passed on their way to Snape's house, at least.

Harry felt a little lonely as Hedwig soared out into the sky and out of sight. She might have been trapped in a cage all summer, but she had still been there, and for a long time he had thought that she might be his only friend. Still, he was hopeful that she might come back the next day with a letter from Ron, and that made him feel a lot better.

As he turned back from the window, he noticed something that he hadn't before: there was a clock on the wall next to the door, and it read two minutes till seven. With a jolt, he realized that Snape had said dinner was at seven and hurried downstairs. He might not have known where to go after that if Snape hadn't left the door to the dining room open.

Dinner was a very quiet matter, not that either Harry or Severus had expected any different. Both of them were wrapped up in their own thoughts, and neither was about to go out of their way to make conversation with the other without prompting. Harry noticed that Snape's cooking was actually pretty good; Severus noted that the boy still wouldn't eat much, and wondered just how long they had been half starving him.

Harry tried to eat as much as he could without making himself sick, but he was still stuffed long before Severus had finished. So he sat and pushed a piece of carrot around the plate with his fork and tried not to think about the three weeks left before he could go back to Hogwarts or, worse yet, what might happen if he had to go back to the Dursleys' next summer. Uncle Vernon had been bad enough when he had thought that bars and locks could keep his nephew in, and Harry personally didn't want to know what would happen if he tried to keep him in again.

At last, Severus cleared his plate and looked up at Harry, whose fork was still chasing the same piece of food around the plate that he had been five minutes before. "Not hungry, Potter?" he asked, and Harry thought he saw some sort of glint in those black eyes as he shook his head, but it was gone before he could be certain. "Very well, then. I have some work that must be done in the basement; you may remain on this floor or go back to your room. Do try your best not to destroy anything."

There wasn't any venom in his voice now, though, and if anyone but Snape had been speaking, Harry might have thought it was a joke. So as Severus cleared the table with a sweep of his wand and disappeared behind a second door that led off from the kitchen, Harry went back upstairs. There was nothing on the first floor but books, and if Harry wanted to read, he would have read his Hogwarts textbooks so that he could finish his homework.

As it was, though, Harry didn't feel like doing homework. Instead, he moved his clothes from his trunk to the wardrobe, taking care with his Hogwarts uniform even though his robes were too short for him now. Despite the fact that it was barely eight-thirty by the time he finished, Harry was dead tired, and finally he collapsed onto the bed, falling asleep instantly.

*~*~*

It was nearly midnight when Severus finally came back upstairs, his robes smelling faintly of smoke. He was brewing a potion in the basement for the first Potions class of the year. It wasn't the potion that the students were supposed to be making, but an antidote in case they got it wrong. It now had to simmer for eighteen hours, which meant that he could finally get some sleep.

It felt like his head had just hit the pillow when there was a shout from the next room and he sat bolt upright. It took him a split second to realize where it had come from, as it had been years since there had been anyone else sleeping in that house. Then he was on his feet in an instant, picking up his wand from the bedside table and crossing the hall in a flash.

With a wave of Severus's wand, the oil lamp at the head of Harry's bed lit itself, and he relaxed a little when he saw no hint of any intruder in the room. Why had the boy been shouting, then? His question was answered when his black eyes found Harry himself, the bedcovers wrapped around him at least three times, half falling off of the bed, and jerking as if he were being tortured.

Severus blinked once, as if uncertain of what to do, and then approached slowly, as if Harry were a wild animal that might have rabies. There were sweat beads on the boy's face and he was saying something under his breath. He was having a nightmare? What in the world was Severus supposed to do about that?

Deciding that it would be best to try to wake him up, Severus took hold of the boy's shoulder and shook it. That didn't seem to work, though; Harry mumbled something incoherently and then yelled, "Let go!" He threw his arm out, knocking Severus's hand away and hitting the wall hard.

"Potter, wake up," Severus said firmly as Harry threw another blow that grazed the side of his face. "Wake up, Potter. Wake up."

He caught Harry's arm as it swung toward him again, and held it at bay with one hand while he grasped Harry's shoulder with the other. "You're having a nightmare, Potter," he said a little more loudly. "Wake up."

Harry's eyes opened at last, and when he realized that someone actually was standing there with a firm hold on him, Harry jumped and pulled away. However, he only succeeded in tangling himself further in the sheets and almost falling off the other side of the bed.

"Calm down," Severus said quietly, and when Harry heard his voice he did indeed begin to calm down; it reminded him of where he was.

"What.. happened? What are you doing here?"

"Your shouting must have raised everyone within a mile, Potter. What in Merlin's name have you been dreaming about?"

Harry fell silent; he didn't want to tell Snape, though he didn't think it would do any good not to. And indeed he was right; Severus didn't even have to use legilimency, he could read the answer in the boy's eyes. "Your uncle," he said coldly, and there was venom in the last word this time.

After a moment, Harry nodded. "It was like the dream I was having when you came to the Dursleys', only worse. It -- it felt like it was real this time."

Severus's right eyebrow twitched at that last sentence, and his black eyes darted for a split second to the gash on Harry's eyebrow. It didn't take mind reading to know that the dream had seemed more realistic because the boy had thought that he had been sent back to Privet Drive.

After a moment Severus stood, and his jaw was set firmly now. "Go back to sleep, Potter," he said quietly, his tone somehow reassuring. "You won't be going back there again."