After lunch Harry, Ron, and Hermione parted ways. Hermione had an Arithmancy class, and Ron and Neville both had a free period and decided to head back up to the Gryffindor common room. They invited Harry to go with them, but though it was tempting, he knew that he needed to work on his independent study assignment instead.

So while his friends went off in different directions, Harry found the little side chamber with a fireplace and Flooed back down to his home with Severus. His father wasn't there; he still had another class to teach that afternoon, which was fine with Harry. He was feeling upset with Severus for being so harsh with Neville and the other Gryffindors, and it was a little unsettling. Harry realized that he had grown so accustomed to getting along with Severus and with everything being good between them that it was disconcerting to be upset with him again.

But there was nothing he could do about that at the moment so Harry just went to put his school bag away in his room and then came back out to the parlour to practise nonverbal magic again. To tell the truth, he was already heartily tired of nonverbal magic by now. It seemed that that was all he and his classmates had been practising for the past two days. It was so difficult and he'd made so little progress.

Still, the only way to get better at it was to practise and besides, Harry reminded himself, his independent study work was a real course, just as much as Potions, Transfiguration, and all the other subjects were. Severus and Dumbledore were his instructors and he needed to do his best on the tasks they assigned.

So what had Severus said to do? Practise spells he already knew, but try to cast silently. Harry had made a little progress with the Vanishing spell in Transfiguration earlier so he decided to keep working on that one. He set a quill on a small side table beside the sofa and pointed his wand at it, thinking Evanesco in his mind and trying to concentrate on making the quill disappear.

An hour later the quill still lay there and the only thing Harry had accomplished was to give himself a splitting headache. When Severus came in from the outside door, saw him, and asked, "Harry? Any progress yet?", he glared at the uncooperative quill and answered shortly, "No."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Well, it does take time and practise."

"Yeah, I know." If only the throbbing in his head would subside. Harry sank down onto the sofa and closed his eyes. He could hear his father moving about in their rooms and a few minutes later Severus sat down on the sofa next to him and pressed a mug into his hand.

"Have some tea."

For some reason his father's concern only made Harry angrier. How could Severus have two such completely different sides? How could he admit that he had been wrong to have maligned Harry for so many years and always be so kind and gentle to him now, and yet still treat other kids so callously?

He pushed the mug away and turned to Severus. "Why were you so mean in class today?"

Severus looked shocked. "What are you talking about? I didn't mistreat you or your friends. I even praised your work and gave you points."

"Neville's my friend, too, and the other Gryffindors, and you were plenty mean to them." Harry retorted. He knew his voice bordered on being rude and this really wasn't the way he'd planned to go about discussing the topic with Severus, but right now he was just too upset to care. And his head was about to split open, it hurt so badly.

Severus stiffened and his voice was noticeably cooler when he spoke. "I don't think the way I discipline your classmates is any of your concern, Harry."

"But it is," Harry argued. "There's no reason for you to pick on Neville and the others like that."

"Mr. Longbottom's work was atrocious, as always, and as I said in class we're brewing some dangerous potions this year. NEWT level work requires talent and concentration. As I also said before, I will not tolerate incompetence, particularly when it could lead to serious injuries. If Mr. Longbottom can't handle the pressure then he needs to withdraw from the course," Severus said in a voice as hard as flint.

Harry frowned at him. "But Neville needs Potions for his Herbology degree and he does all right in his other courses."

This was not strictly true, Harry knew. Neville had always struggled with Transfiguration and he had made blunders in most of his other courses as well. Herbology was the only subject where he seemed to be truly gifted. But he had made incredible progress in Defense last year, once he had a sympathetic instructor in Harry and real motivation to learn. He'd done well in Defense back in third-year when Remus had been teaching too, and he did acceptable work in Charms. Potions was the only course where Neville consistently and utterly failed, and Harry had to believe that a lot of that had to do with Severus' teaching style.

"Besides, you've always been awful to Neville," Harry hurried on full force before his father could reply. "Even when other people's potions were bad, too, you didn't stay on them like you do with Neville. And the other Gryffindors' potions were fine, so why were you so mean to them? And why did you take all those points?"

"I'm about to take more," Severus said darkly. "But for your information, Mr. Thomas and Mr. Finnegan lost points because they talked about Quidditch the entire time. I should have assigned them detention as well. If I hadn't already tied myself up with Draco Malfoy, I would have."

Harry wasn't satisfied with that answer. "But Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass whispered all through class too. You didn't take points from them."

"Enough!" Severus snapped, sounding angrier than Harry had heard him sound in quite some time. "Do not forget, Harry, that you are still my student as well as my son."

"And your slave," Harry said, his own tone laden with anger and bitterness.

Severus grew very still. "I did not say that," he said quietly.

"But you thought it." Harry didn't know why he had brought up the slavery spell. It had nothing to do with Potions class or Gryffindors or anything that they'd been discussing, but it seemed that words just kept pouring out of his mouth whether he meant for them to or not.

Severus gave him a long steady look. "I did not. You are the one who cannot stop thinking about it, not me."

"Well, of course I think about it! I'm the one who's a slave! How would you feel if it were you?" Harry shouted, then winced as the sharp pains in his head protested.

"I would be most upset," Severus admitted. He leaned forward, his dark eyes studying Harry's face intently. "Harry, I do understand how you feel about that. In truth, I was a slave to Voldemort for years."

"But you're free of him now! I'll never be free! Never!" And suddenly desperate to get away, Harry leaped to his feet and ran to his bedroom. Without thinking, he slammed the door behind him, and then grabbed his head with both hands, doubling over in pain as his head exploded in bursts of agony.

"Harry!" Severus opened the door, took a step in, and then paused when he saw his son.

"Harry, what is it?" He asked in a very different tone of voice.

"My head," Harry whispered shakily, suddenly feeling near tears. "It hurts so bad."

Severus promptly summoned a vial of potion and moved to Harry's side, crouching to hold the little bottle to his lips. "Drink this. It will help."

Harry downed its contents. Almost at once the sharp throbbing in his head dulled to a barely noticeable ache. He sighed in relief and gave his father a wry glance. "Thanks. That's a lot better."

"Foolish child. Why didn't you say you were in pain?" Severus guided him to the bed. Harry lay down while Severus fetched a blanket from the wardrobe, shook it out and tucked it about him. Then his father closed the golden drapes around the enchanted window and cast some spell that dimmed the light in the room almost as dark as night.

Then Severus came and sat on the edge of the bed. He sighed. "How did we go from talking about Potions class to the slavery spell?"

"I don't know," Harry answered. "I don't know why I said that. I wasn't thinking about it, not really. I was upset and it just came out."

"You know we're doing all we can, don't you?" Severus asked heavily.

"Yeah," Harry whispered.

"Harry, every day I hope that we can find a way to free you, and I hope even more that whatever happens you will heal fully and completely and not hurt anymore." Severus lightly ran his fingers through Harry's hair, gently eased his glasses off, and set them on the side table. "Is there anything else I can do? Anything I haven't thought of that would help you deal with the spell?"

There was shared pain in his voice and it made Harry feel even worse about bringing the slavery spell into their argument. It wasn't Severus' fault, after all, and his father was doing everything he could to help Harry. No one could have done more or been any better to him.

"No," he whispered roughly. "You're great about all that, Severus. You really are. No one could do more. I'm sorry I said that."

Severus reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. They were quiet for a moment before the professor spoke again more briskly, "Now, how long has your head been aching? Was it caused by practising silent magic?"

"Yes, I think so," Harry mumbled. "I'd been trying to vanish my quill for about an hour. My head started aching while I was practising." He squinted up at his father. "I thought I'd keep trying that one instead of any defense spells because we were working on vanishing turtles in Transfiguration and I did make a little progress then."

"Oh? Tell me," Severus sounded interested.

"Well, I just made one of my turtle's legs disappear, but I thought I might have better luck if I kept working on the Vanishing spell now too," Harry told him.

Through the darkness he could see his father nod. "That's fine. Defense spells can be difficult to work on by oneself, too. You really need an opponent or an object to practise on, even if it's a dummy like ‘Toby'. In any case, when you are dueling or encountering an enemy, sometimes spells from Transfiguration or Charms can be very useful. Here at school, you study the subjects separately, but in life you draw on anything that is useful and helpful."

Harry suddenly remembered when Dumbledore had faced Voldemort in the Department of Mysteries last spring. Voldemort had sent a wall of glass shards flying towards them, but Dumbledore had quickly transfigured the glass into harmless sand. He had also cast some sort of charm on the statues in the Atrium to animate them and have them protect Harry.

He nodded. "Yeah."

"Why don't you rest for a while before dinner?" Severus suggested, starting to get up from the bed.

Harry put out a hand to stop him. He realised that his father seemed to think their argument earlier had stemmed from Harry's headache and he seemed to have dismissed the matter from his mind. But that wasn't true. Harry had to admit that he had handled the situation badly. Now that his head wasn't pounding, he could see that he had gone about it all wrong. But he did think that Severus was wrong, too, that his father did mistreat Neville and the others for no good reason, and he wanted to talk with him about it.

But maybe he'd take a different approach this time.

"Severus? I did mean to thank you for being so different with me and Ron and Hermione today. It was really nice not to have to feel sick before Potions."

Severus eyed him. "You're welcome. I am sorry for the way I used to treat you and I am glad that you feel more relaxed about Potions now. But that does not mean you are free to criticise my teaching style."

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir. I'm sorry I was rude earlier. I shouldn't have been. But it's just...well, you know all those years you thought that I was spoiled and arrogant and you hated me?"

Severus was very still; then he closed his eyes and nodded silently.

"Well, you admit that you were wrong about me, don't you? You changed your mind once we got to know each other, right?"

"Of course. You know that," Severus responded.

"And you don't hate Ron and Hermione or the other Weasleys any more either, do you?" Harry continued.

"I never hated your friends or the Weasleys," Severus said. "I merely disliked them."

"Do you still dislike them?" Harry asked.

Severus sighed. "No. I admit that they are rather tolerable."

"Well, don't you think that maybe if you gave the other Gryffindors a chance, you might find out that they're good people too?" Harry asked softly.

"Harry..." His father began.

"Please, Severus? I'm not asking you to like them or to be kind or anything. Just...couldn't you try to be a little more fair? The kids in Gryffindor now have never done anything, and you can't say that you just hate all Gryffindors, not anymore. I'm one, and my friends and Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall. You like all of us, right?"

"No, I do not like all of you," Severus retorted. As Harry stared at him in hurt surprise, he relented and smiled a little. "I love you. I like the others...at times, perhaps."

He leaned over to brush his lips against Harry's forehead. "I will consider what you've said. That is all I can promise for the moment. Rest now."

He swept out of the room. Feeling relieved and weary, Harry decided that he would try to take a nap before dinner. He closed his eyes and let himself drift off.

***

The rest of the week flew by.

Severus did not act vastly different in Thursday's class, but Harry noticed a few improvements. At least his father did not openly ridicule Neville or the other Gryffindors. Instead he put the students in pairs and assigned Hermione to be Neville's partner, leaving Ron to work with Harry. He also had Dean Thomas and Pansy Parkinson, Seamus Finnegan and Daphne Greengrass work together.

After lunch Harry practiced nonverbal magic again for his independent study course but this time he was armed with a pain-killing potion and instructions to stop and rest if his headache returned. He still couldn't make the quill disappear but at least he didn't get another headache.

On Friday he and Severus both had a free period after lunch. Harry had thought that they would continue to work on silent casting, but instead Severus announced that he thought they'd try something different. He and Harry went up to the Room of Requirement. It looked very similar to the way it had always appeared last year when Dumbledore's Army had met there, with cushions on the floor and shelves lined with books on defensive magic. The only difference was that now there was a dummy figure there also, just like the one Harry had dueled with at Prince Hall in the summer.

"Is this really Toby?" He asked, walking over to inspect the dummy more closely.

"It appears so, though I don't know for certain. It might be a copy," Severus agreed, coming to join him. "It might be interesting to let Norie and Zan know the next time we plan to come up here and have them see if Toby is missing."

They spent over an hour working together. Harry dueled against the dummy, very successfully as Severus let him say the spells aloud. Then Severus conjured items for Harry to curse or transfigure. He blasted a table to dust with the reductor curse, changed a flower into a sword, and transformed water to ice and back again. It was the most fun Harry had had all week.

Saturday was the first Hogsmeade weekend. Severus and Harry had eaten all their other meals up in the Great Hall, but had agreed to have a lie-in on Saturday and just eat together at home. It was a little later than usual when Harry dragged himself out of bed and dressed in a royal blue fleecy pullover and khaki trousers. He and Severus were just finishing their poached eggs and bacon when the Floo flared and Ron and Hermione stepped into the parlour, coming to collect Harry for the day.

There was a brief awkward moment when they were getting ready to leave and Draco Malfoy knocked on the outside door, reporting for the detention Severus had assigned him. Malfoy saw Harry and his eyes narrowed in fury, but then Severus spoke up, "Harry, have fun and I will see you this evening."

The professor turned to face the Slytherin boy and his face hardened. "Mr. Malfoy, report to my office. I'll be there shortly."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione left then, but when they stepped out of the fireplace in the side chamber off the Great Hall, Ron grinned. "I bet he's not going to play chess and have cocoa."

They met up with Neville, Ginny, and Luna in the front lobby and the six of them spent the day roaming about Hogsmeade. They visited Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop, browsed through Dervish and Banges, and, of course, spent considerable time in Honeydukes.

They ate lunch at the Three Broomsticks, savoring shepherd's pie and sipping butterbeer and then wandered through the post office because Ginny and Luna liked to see the owls. Then the little group went to Zonko's Joke Shop ("Fred and George are hoping to buy out Zonko's in a couple of years," Ron confided.) and walked by the lake that lay between the village and the school, talking about the first week of classes, Quidditch tryouts, and other light-hearted matters.

Of course Hogsmeade was crowded with the other students and some of the professors, too, and they saw lots of familiar faces. Bill Weasley wasn't there, though, and Ron reported that he hadn't been at the staff table in the Great Hall that morning either.

"I think Bill's seeing someone," he remarked. "He didn't come around as much this summer and when he was home he often seemed kind of restless and left pretty quick."

He grinned. "And one time there was a lipstick smudge on his chin, but when I asked him about it, he just said it was none of my business."

"She's kissing him on the chin?" Ginny wrinkled her nose.

Ron shrugged. "Apparently so," and they all laughed at the image.

Hagrid wasn't to be seen either and Harry felt a regretful pang when he noted the groundskeeper's absence. Hagrid was upset with him and his friends because none of them were taking Care of Magical Creatures this year.

He and Ron and Hermione had tried to go down to Hagrid's cabin on the past Wednesday afternoon to talk with him and explain that they simply didn't have time, that they had to concentrate on passing their NEWTS and preparing for a career. Of course the real reason was that, fond as they were of Hagrid, they had never enjoyed his classes, but they had agreed not to mention that part.

But Hagrid had brushed them off, claiming that he had to care for a sick thestral...which might have been true except that he had disappeared back inside and hadn't come out again. He'd been avoiding them ever since, too, refusing to look their way at mealtimes and hurrying off before they could corner him afterwards.

Hermione had gotten annoyed about it all. "Honestly, Hagrid is acting a bit ridiculous, don't you think?" She'd complained one evening when she, Harry, and Ron were gathered in the Gryffindor common room. "I mean, even if we had liked his class...which we didn't...we don't have time for it anymore, seeing as none of us are planning to tend to magical creatures for a career. You would think Hagrid would realise that. And as good friends as we've been, I think he at least owes us the courtesy of listening to us."

But Harry missed Hagrid. The big groundskeeper had been his first friend and Harry hated thinking that he was hurt with them.

***

Quidditch tryouts were held on the following weekend. Gryffindor had the pitch first and their session was scheduled immediately after breakfast. Harry was surprised and touched when Severus joined him and his friends in walking down to the field and sat with Hermione in the stands.

There was quite a crowd as several positions on the team were open. It seemed to Harry that almost half of Gryffindor House wanted to try out and the other half had come to watch.

No one else had signed up for the Seeker position though. Katie Bell, who was captain this year, had already told Harry that he would definitely play Seeker again so he himself didn't really have to try out. But he was still busy as she had him flying with other applicants in various groupings.

Ginny was quickly chosen to be one of the Chasers. She was very obviously the best choice, though a small fourth-year girl named Demelza Robbins was good too and was also chosen. Katie Bell would be the third Chaser.

Two third-year boys, Ritchie Coote and Jimmy Peakes, became the Beaters. They didn't compare to Fred and George, of course, but they were passably good.

Then it was time for the Keeper tryouts. Ron had been unusually quiet all morning and as he flew up for his trial, Harry saw, with a sinking feeling inside, that he had turned green. Ron's playing had always been greatly affected by nerves, but Harry had hoped that his brilliant performance in last year's final match would have helped.

He wanted desperately to think of something encouraging to say or do, to remind Ron of that last game, or of all the dangers that Ron had bravely faced with him. But there wasn't time for a long speech. Katie and the other Chasers were already in position to begin shooting Quaffles and Ron was nearly at the rings.

So Harry just flew up beside him and said quietly, "Ron? It's all right. I know you can do it."

Ron looked over at him and then smiled. "Yeah. Thanks, Harry."

And Ron proceeded to make five spectacular saves.

Katie grinned and pointed to him. "And there's our Keeper!"

Most of the crowd began filing back up to the castle, though some lingered while Katie gathered the new team around and they quickly planned their practise schedule.

Severus and Hermione were waiting when Harry, Ron, and Ginny came to join them a few minutes later.

Ron and Ginny immediately began discussing the tryouts, re-living each move in great detail. Hermione walked with them, looking amused as the two Weasleys talked animatedly and gestured with their hands and arms.

Harry fell back a little to walk alongside his father. "Thanks for coming," he said softly.

Severus glanced down at him. "You are my son. Of course I wanted to come to support you. You do not have to thank me for that."

"Maybe I don't have to, but I want to," Harry told him. He hesitated before continuing softly. "I always wondered what it would be like to have someone come to stuff that I did, like Quidditch games and school plays and things like that."

"School plays?" Severus raised an eyebrow. "Hogwarts doesn't have school plays."

"No, but Muggle primary schools do sometimes. Course I usually didn't do anything like that. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon didn't want me getting involved in stuff. But there was one time, when I was about six or seven, and our whole class acted out a play. It was about an Irish folktale with giants and banshees and everyone had a part."

"What were you?" Severus wanted to know, looking intrigued.

Harry shrugged. "Oh, I was just one of the townspeople. I only had one line. I had to point and say "Oh, no! They're coming!" He grinned. "I don't think Sir Laurence Olivier has to worry about being replaced."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Who is Sir Laurence Olivier?"

"Muggle actor, very famous." Harry smiled at his father. "We'll have to get you out more, Severus." His smile faded. "But anyway, I remember all the other kids had parents there, and grandparents, and everyone was taking photographs and all that. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were there...Dudley was a giant...and they made a huge fuss over him. I remember thinking that it would be nice to have that."

"And you never did," Severus' voice was sorrowful.

Harry paused. "Once I did. At the end of the Triwizard Tournament. Mrs. Weasley and Bill came to be my family that night."

He grew quiet, remembering the letter he had written to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley just before his suicide attempt. He never had given it to them, and he really ought to. Or at least tell them some of things that he had written. He would, he vowed. He would write to them this very weekend.

"I wish I had been there for you then. I cannot imagine how difficult that was for you, and you faced it alone." Severus said.

Harry thought to himself that as bad as the night of the last Task had been, that last spring, after the battle at the Department of Mysteries, had been worse. But that brought him perilously close to remembering Sirius' death and Harry didn't want to think about that.

Instead he concentrated on Severus' words.

"You are not alone any longer," his father said.

"I know," Harry responded quietly. He looked up. "What time is Slytherin's tryouts?"

"After lunch."

"Are you going to watch?" Harry asked.

"I had thought I might," Severus replied.

"I'll come down with you," Harry offered.

Severus looked a little surprised. "You don't have to, Harry, if you have plans with your friends."

But Harry realised that he did want to. He had said that he would try to get along better with the Slytherins this year and he was curious to see how Alec Morland fared.

But even more, Harry thought that Severus was making a little bit of an effort to treat the Gryffindors better. He was still strict and quick to take points, often unfairly in the Gryffindors' opinion. He still favoured his own House, with Draco Malfoy being an exception. But Harry had noticed that he hadn't made malicious personal comments lately.

And Severus did so much for him. Maybe going to the Slytherin tryouts with him was a little something that Harry could do for Severus.

So he just nodded and repeated. "I know I don't have to. I want to."

Severus didn't respond aloud, but he rested his hand on Harry's shoulder as they followed Ron, Hermione, and Ginny back up to the castle.