There was the familiar sense of flying through darkness at breakneck speed as he was pulled from Dumbledore's Pensieve, and then Harry was back in the headmaster's office, standing beside the silver basin with Severus on one side of him and Dumbledore on the other.

Severus was holding his left arm, a fact for which Harry was suddenly grateful. The other trips through the Pensieve had not bothered him, but this time, he felt distinctly shaky. He stumbled slightly, and Severus automatically steadied him. Then, after glancing at Harry, the professor guided him over to an armchair and gently pushed him down before pulling a second chair close and sinking into it.

Severus was looking pale himself, and he ran a hand over his face, a sure sign that he was weary or troubled. Dumbledore gave a flick of his wand, and a third chair slid across the floor to rest before Harry and Severus. He sat and waited in silence. It was a long time before anyone spoke.

Finally Severus looked up. "Horcruxes," he said flatly. "That explains everything, doesn't it?" He shook his head. "Why didn't I see it?"

"Even I didn't suspect for a long time, Severus," Dumbledore replied. "Why would we? Horcruxes are so dark, and so forbidden, very few wizards have ever heard of them, and fewer still have the power to create one, even if they should be wicked enough to have the desire. Throughout the ages, there have only been a handful of attempts at making a horcrux."

"But Voldemort has succeeded." Severus sighed. "This...complicates matters," he continued in a heavy tone.

"Yes," Dumbledore agreed calmly. "On the other hand, knowledge is power, and we now have the knowledge to defeat him for once and all. Indeed, we have already destroyed two horcruxes."

"Two?" Severus blanched.

"Surely you noted Tom Riddle's interest in the number seven? I do believe that he would have been most entranced with the idea of creating a seven-part soul," the headmaster nodded, as if to himself.

If it were possible, Severus grew even paler. "Seven? Seven horcruxes?"

"Six," Dumbledore corrected gently. "The seventh piece of soul, warped and maimed as it is, resides in Voldemort's body. And as I said, I believe we've already accomplished the destruction of two."

Feeling dazed and almost sick, Harry halfway listened as his two mentors continued their discussion. He knew he should be paying attention; this was critical information, but he just couldn't concentrate on the words. His mind was still trying to wrap itself around the notion of anyone being so evil as Voldemort (though Harry supposed he really shouldn't be surprised at that), and reeling from the knowledge that he was going to have to locate and destroy all these unknown horcruxes before Voldemort could be defeated.

It was an impossible task.

Dumbledore's and Severus' voices went on and on. Harry tried to focus on them and caught bits and pieces of the conversation, but his thoughts kept running in circles. How in the world could he ever begin to find all those hidden objects that might contain little pieces of Voldemort's soul? And if by some lucky miracle, he did manage to find them all, how could he begin to destroy them? He wouldn't have a clue how to go about it.

When he heard Dumbledore tell him that destroying the ring horcrux had caused the injury to his arm, Harry only nodded, but the feeling of being completely overwhelmed only grew worse. If Dumbledore, one of the greatest wizards of all time, couldn't destroy a horcrux without being severely injured, how in the world could Harry hope to succeed?

He clenched his fist and stared down at them, and then, as if he'd sensed Harry's anxiety and hopelessness, Severus reached over and laid his hand over Harry's. Somehow, that touch steadied him and gave him courage.

Harry didn't know how he was going to accomplish this impossible task, but one way or the other he had to. For Severus, for Sirius, for his parents and friends, for all the people Voldemort had hurt or killed or threatened. Harry didn't know how he was going to win, but at that moment, staring down at Severus' hand holding onto his own, he knew he was going to. He had to, because there was no way Harry was going to die and let Voldemort hurt anyone else he loved.

With grim determination, he looked up and began to listen in earnest.

***

"I wish you were coming, too, Harry," Ron said. "It won't be the same without you."

It was the first morning of the Christmas holidays and Ron, Ginny, and Hermione were all getting ready to Floo to the Burrow. The four of them were in Harry's room, saying good-bye before the other teens went up to the Great Hall.

For security reasons, the Ministry had arranged for students to go home through a one-way Floo opening, and everyone had to leave promptly at their designated time. The Gryffindors were the first to leave, immediately after breakfast. Severus had agreed for Hermione and the Weasleys to eat in the dungeons with Harry and himself, so the friends could have a little time together that morning. He'd even eaten breakfast with them, and been more than halfway civil.

But now it was almost time for the others to leave. Harry smiled at them. He would miss them, and part of him was a little sorry not to be going to the Burrow with them, but mostly, he was happy to be spending the holidays with Severus. He wasn't sure that Ron, Ginny, and Hermione could really truly understand because they had always had families who loved them and wanted to be with them. But it was still new and wonderful to Harry, and he was reveling in the idea of spending his first Christmas with Severus.

"I'll miss you guys, too," he told the others. "But I think Severus and I will have a good time, and you're all going to come back and spend part of Christmas Day here, aren't you?"

Ginny nodded. "Yes, Mum and Dad got it all arranged with Dumbledore, so we'll see you again next week."

She and Hermione hugged Harry, and then he and Ron slapped each other on the back. They all said, "Happy Christmas," to one another, and then the others left.

As it turned out, all the other students had gone home for the holidays, too, and some of the professors had left as well. With only a handful of people at Hogwarts, and all of them deemed trustworthy, Severus agreed that Harry could leave their rooms and go about the school grounds again, as long as he took one of the two-way mirrors with him, just in case.

The first thing Harry did was get his Firebolt and head out to the Quidditch pitch. It was strange to be out in the castle again, after so many weeks of not being able to leave their rooms in the dungeons, and Harry walked slowly through the deserted corridors, pausing to chat with some of the portraits along the way.

He'd have liked to have seen some of the professors who had stayed, or the ghosts, but no one else seemed to be about so Harry went outside, shivering slightly as the wind buffeted his thick winter cloak. He didn't know if it was unusually chilly or if he'd just been cooped up inside for so long he'd forgotten what it was like to be out in the weather, but it was cold. Still, he was grinning as he crunched through the snow. It was good to be out.

When he came to the Quidditch pitch, he paused and looked around. Memories flashed through his mind: his first game when he and his friends had been convinced Severus was trying to kill him...Harry could laugh about that now; Draco Malfoy and his cronies impersonating dementors and causing him to fall; winning the Quidditch Cup; and most of all, memories of chasing the elusive golden Snitch through sunshine, rain, and even falling snow.

He'd been so busy lately that he hadn't thought much about missing the game or even flying, but now in the midst of his happiness, he felt a wave of sorrow that that part of his life was over. It was, wasn't it? He could only be out now because it was the holidays and everyone was gone. As soon as the students came back, he would have to stay in his rooms again. There was no chance of playing Quidditch again this year, and probably not next year either, unless a miracle happened and he managed to defeat Voldemort before seventh-year began. Not very likely.

And after that, well, who knew what would happen. He'd be old enough to leave Hogwarts and start a career, or at least training for one, if he still wanted to be an auror. But would he really be able to leave Hogwarts? He wasn't safe without Dumbledore's protection, was he?

The words of the prophecy floated through Harry's mind. For neither can live while the other survives.... He'd wondered about that phrase before, because he and Voldemort were both still living at the moment, weren't they? But now Harry understood. He'd never be free to really live his life the way he wanted as long Voldemort existed. He'd always have to be hiding, looking over his shoulder, wondering when Voldemort would strike next. It was no way to live.

Once again, he felt that deep unshakable determination to win this war and destroy Voldemort once and for all. He didn't know how he could do it, but he had Dumbledore and Severus and Ron and Hermione and lots of other people on his side, and he knew they wouldn't fail.

Harry looked up at the cloudy sky and spoke aloud. "We're going to win. We're going to beat you, and you're never going to hurt anyone again."

He leaped onto the Firebolt and took off, zooming around the pitch with ferocious speed, diving and circling and rising again. The wind whipped through his hair and stung his face, but Harry exulted in it. He laughed aloud, a wild fierce joy illuminating his features.

But, wonderful as it was, flying alone wasn't as much fun as flying with someone else, so after a while, Harry headed back to the dungeons and begged until Severus got his own broom and went out to the pitch to fly with him. The professor wasn't quite as gifted a flyer as Harry, but he was good, and even he was smiling when they finally quit racing and went back inside.

That was one of the few times that Severus seemed happy over the holidays. The professor seemed increasingly preoccupied and bothered as Christmas drew near. Harry knew he wasn't sleeping well. He had one nightmare himself and woke up in the middle of the night, and Severus had obviously already been awake. Other mornings Severus came to breakfast with dark circles under his eyes and ate only a few bites before asking about Harry's plans for the day and then disappearing into his office for the rest of the morning.

It was ironic, Harry thought, that just when his own nightmares were getting better, that Severus should start suffering from them. It was frustrating, too, because Severus would not let Harry help him. He tried several times to get Severus to talk about his dreams, but finally gave up when Severus told him bluntly to let it be.

Even worse, Severus seemed to be slowly withdrawing from him. At first Harry didn't notice. The first few days of the holidays, he was busy taking advantage of his temporary freedom. He visited Hagrid and Buckbeak ( now known as Witherwings ), explored the castle, and went flying. He and Severus both went up to the Great Hall for lunch and dinner, and though Severus left him to sit between Professors McGonagall and Flitwick, Harry didn't think much of it the first couple of meals. After all, Severus hadn't seen much of his colleagues lately either, and Harry supposed he wanted to talk with them, and Harry enjoyed sitting between Hagrid and Dumbledore, so none of it seemed terribly important.

But eventually he had to notice that the professor seemed to be downright avoiding him. Severus wasn't unkind, but he was always too busy to do anything with Harry. He spent most of the day locked away in his office, and if Harry tried to talk with him, Severus either brushed him off or made an excuse to hurry away.

Christmas Eve morning Harry decided he'd had enough. He woke early, dressed, and ordered breakfast for the both of them. When Severus emerged from his room a little while later, he looked tired and troubled. He grunted something that might have been a thanks and sat down, staring at the plate for a minute before slowly picking up his fork and eating a bite of ham.

"Severus? Could we go flying again this morning?" Harry asked. "It's supposed to rain all next week and after that the students will be back, so today might be the last day we can fly."

Severus hesitated, but then shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't leave my potions this morning, Harry. You go on and enjoy yourself." Abruptly he dropped his fork and hurried into his office, as if he were eager to get away.

Harry stared after him. "But I wanted to go with you," he said softly.

***

When the professor emerged from his office at noon, Harry was waiting on the sofa. He'd spent the morning trying to figure out what had gone wrong. What could he have done to make Severus not want to be around him anymore?

"Are you ready to go to lunch, then?" Severus asked wearily.

"Couldn't we eat here today, instead of going up to the Great Hall?" Harry looked at him hopefully.

"Why?"

Harry felt awkward, but he really wanted to spend some time alone with Severus, so he made himself say, "Well, it's just been a while since we did anything together...you know, just us. So I thought maybe we could eat here and then play some chess or something, if you don't want to go flying."

Some emotion flickered across Severus' face so quickly that Harry couldn't be sure what it was. But after a moment, he said calmly, "Perhaps another afternoon, Harry. I'm very busy with my potions right now."

"But you worked on them all morning," Harry said, beginning to feel a little desperate. He couldn't lose Severus, too. He didn't even know what he'd done.

"I'm at a critical stage," Severus answered shortly.

"But you worked on them all yesterday, and the day before, too. It's Christmas Eve. Couldn't we do something together? I'll even help with the potions if you want," Harry offered.

"I'm afraid not. I just..."

"You just hate me again," Harry said flatly. "It's all right. You can say it. I'll get my things, and I'm sure Dumbledore can find somewhere else for me to stay."

He moved past Severus, who was standing as if frozen, and made it into his room before the horrible pain overtook him. He leaned against the closed door, taking deep shuddery breaths and pressing his fists against his eyes. He couldn't cry now. Severus would know if he did, and Harry was determined to hang on to his pride. He would wait until he was alone again before letting himself break down. Right now he had to pull himself together and pack. Some Christmas it had turned out to be.

"Harry! Open this door now!"

Harry had started to move away from the door and almost went sprawling as Severus threw it open.

The professor looked slightly flustered, as if he hadn't expected the door to give way so easily. But he quickly recovered and came in, grabbing Harry by the arms and giving him a gentle shake.

"You foolish child! How could you ever think that? Don't you know how I feel by now?" Severus took a deep breath and took Harry's face between his hands. "Harry, I love you. I love you as if you were my own son. In fact,..." Severus took another deep breath. "I had not planned to tell you about this just yet, but perhaps I'd better. Harry, let's sit down."

Feeling stunned, Harry let Severus lead him over to the bed and they sat down side by side. The professor summoned some papers from his own room and hesitantly held them out to Harry.

Harry took the papers, read them, and then just stared at them, wondering if he'd read correctly. Surely his eyes were playing tricks on him. It couldn't be what he thought he was seeing.

"These are adoption papers," he finally whispered.

"Yes," Severus nodded. "I've wanted to adopt you for a while, Harry, but then it occurred to me that before I asked you, there's something you have to know."

He swallowed hard. "It's very difficult for me to tell you, and that's why I've been acting strangely these last few days. I knew I had to tell you, and I've been dreading it. I'd made up my mind to wait until after Christmas, to just give you something else for a present. But I didn't realise you were misinterpreting my actions. I'm very sorry, Harry. I never meant to hurt you or to make you doubt my feelings. I could never hate you, child. I love you."

Harry started to say, "I love you, too," but Severus stopped him.

"No," the professor said, shaking his head. "Not yet. You have to hear this first, Harry. You deserve to know this before you make up your mind about the adoption."

Harry shook his head, too, in amazement. As far as he was concerned, there was no question. All his hurt and disappointment and anger had vanished and a great wave of happiness swept over him. Severus didn't hate him. He wanted to adopt him! Harry would finally have a family all his own. Nothing Severus could say could possibly change how Harry felt.

So he looked up happily, waiting for Severus to tell him whatever it was he wanted to tell him, and then Harry would say that it was all right, and of course, he wanted Severus to adopt him.

But then Severus began talking, not looking at Harry, but keeping his eyes fixed on the wall. He spoke in such a low voice that Harry had to listen carefully to hear him. He told about being a young man who had joined the Death Eaters out of his own rage and blindness and sense of persecution. He told about being eager to serve Voldemort and how in that service, he had overheard Dumbledore and Sybil Trelawney talking in a small room in the Hog's Head Inn one evening. He told how he had heard her speak of a prophecy telling of a child who would soon be born, a child who would have the power to defeat the Dark Lord.

And he told Harry how he had run to Voldemort and repeated it all.

Severus turned to him, beseechingly, but Harry jumped to his feet and stared at him in horror.

"It was you," he whispered. "You told him."

"Harry..." Severus reached for him, but Harry spun around, grabbed some powder from the jar on his mantel, and Flooed away.