Harry tossed and turned in his four-poster, sweat pouring from his face. “No,” he muttered, “You lie.”

Ron listened quietly from his own bed, knowing Harry was in another nightmare, and wondering if he should wake him.

“Why do you do this to me?” Harry asked aloud to no response from Ron or any of the other sixth year Gryffindor boys.

All of the boys except Ron had put silencing charms around their beds and closed the curtains tight. Ron knew they could hear nothing of Harry’s conversation with whoever was in the dream with him, and was glad.

“Yes Harry Potter, it is true,” Voldemort told him in his dream. Harry stood in front of him, staring into the red slits Voldemort called eyes. “I do like to torment you. It is the highlight of my day, and I will continue to do so until you die.”

Harry shook his head and searched his jacket pocket for his wand. He would kill Voldemort here and now.

“Stupid boy,” Voldemort told him, and chuckled, “you are looking to defenses that cannot save you.”

Harry shook his head and gave up looking for the wand. He looked around him instead, and found Snape by his side. Harry stood taller, and looked back at Voldemort.

“You can’t kill me Voldemort, he’s on my side.”

Voldemort laughed a high, cold laugh, and said, “Yes, this I know, and he will die for his betrayal.” He paused, and then tilted his head to the side and looked at Harry, “Or perhaps you would wish to kill him first, for his betrayal of everything you love.”

Harry sat bolt upright in his four-poster, wide awake and breathing hard.

There was silence except for Harry’s breathing, and then from the darkness a few feet away came Ron’s voice. “It was just a dream Harry.” Harry wished that were true.

“I don’t think so Ron. He’s inside my head. That’s why I was doing the Occlumency again… to keep him out.”

Ron was still and quiet. “It doesn’t seem to be working, does it?”

Harry shook his head, even though it was too dark for Ron to see him doing it. “No… I’m rubbish at it. Professor Snape says I can’t get it because I don’t think I can.”

Ron laughed. “Since when do you trust Snape so much?”

Harry tried hard to calm his breathing further, because he was still taking in deep breaths from the dream. He didn’t want to admit to Ron that he felt like Snape was the only one that understood him at times. “I don’t know Ron… I just do.”

Ron sighed. “You kicked my wash bucket over and insisted that you hated him the other night. What happened to that?”

That was out of anger he knew, and came also from the fact that Harry didn’t think he could face Snape after that… not even in class. Just because Harry had begun to look up to him in the smallest of ways didn’t mean Snape would accept that. In fact, Harry was sure that he wouldn’t, and that he still disliked Harry as he did before. Why he was halfway civil to him now, he had no idea, other than the fact that Harry helped him with his workload every week.

“Maybe I don’t hate him,” Harry said. “I was angry. I said something to him I didn’t mean and I really don’t want to face him after that.”

Ron thought on that. He thought he knew what Harry had said to him… the same thing he had called him in his sleep unknowing until Ron had told him. Ron didn’t like that idea as much as Harry didn’t. “Well, on the upside,” said Ron, “you’re caught far enough up on Potions that you could skip the rest of the year and still be ahead.”

“I wish,” Harry said, “but there’s no way McGonagall would let me get away with that.” Harry was also sure that he would incur Snape’s wrath if he began skipping his classes altogether. So far he had gotten away with skipping the one… he wasn’t sure if he wanted to chance skipping the rest. He was also sure that at some point Snape would seek him out and make him finish the Occlumency lessons, and that chance was more likely if he began skipping Potions classes as well.

“Better to be in a room full of students with him than in his office with just me and him,” Harry finally decided aloud.

Ron yawned and rolled over. “Good thinking. If you started skipping his classes I recon I’d have to too… you know… just to be a good friend I mean.”

Harry smiled despite the still all to close feeling of Voldemort being in his brain. “That’s what friends are for,” Harry told him.

* * *

“Ok Hermione,” Ron said on their way to Potions, “the plan is that you get to distract Snape so Harry can get out of class at the end without him calling for him to stay after.” Ron had his arm around Hermione’s shoulders as they walked, Harry on Ron’s other side.

Hermione sighed heavily. “Ron, he can’t avoid him forever… what about meal times? And besides, this could work once, but what about tomorrow?”

Ron shrugged, “We can try can’t we?”

Hermione glared at him as best she could, before Ron gave her a puppy dog look and she couldn’t glare at him anymore. “Oh, fine Ronald, but I still want to know why you can’t distract him.”

Harry laughed, and said, “He knows he can’t do it well enough like you can… since when does Ron stay after class to ask questions from a Professor?”

“Yeah,” said Ron, “he’ll know it’s a ruse if I do it.”

Hermione shook her head as they made the door to the Potion’s classroom. “I’m not sure which is worse,” she said, “the logic you two use, or the ideas that goes with it.”

Throughout class Harry didn’t look at Snape once. He didn’t even look up at the blackboard to see the instructions. Instead he looked down at Hermione’s notes, since she had copied the brewing instructions down.

The dream from the night before didn’t enter Harry’s mind once that day, or he might have remembered that Voldemort knew Snape was no longer his servant, but that of Dumbledore’s. Instead it had been washed away by the first pleasant dream Harry had had in weeks. It had been summer break and he was going home from Hogwarts to his parents, Lily and James Potter, who welcomed him with open arms. This dream is the one he was thinking about while brewing his potion.

Five minutes before the end of class, Harry asked Ron quietly, “Is he looking at me?”

Ron looked up and saw that Snape was occupied cleaning a spill Neville had made in the front of the room.

“Nope,” he told him.

Harry hurriedly began putting his Potion’s kit and book in his bag. He wanted to be ready to hurry out when the time came.

“Potion’s in!” Snape called a few minutes later. Harry bottled and labeled his flask, and handed it off to Hermione who quickly made her way to the front of the room, and tried to strike up a conversation with Snape about the uses of Jasp-root and Hen-weed.

From across the room Draco watched curiously as Harry and Ron made a break for the door before any of the other students had finished packing. Snape looked up, but Draco was now moving between Harry and Snape, and Draco being taller than Harry, Harry made it out the door unseen.

In the hall Draco shoved past Harry and said, “You owe me one Potter.”

Harry and Ron frowned as Draco disappeared around a corner, presumably off to his own common room.

“What did he mean by that?” Ron asked. Harry shrugged. He didn’t know, but wondered if he meant for not telling anybody that he had seen him in tears the other night in the corridor.

Harry skipped dinner that night, and waited in the common room instead for Ron and Hermione to appear with the food that they could fit into their bags.

The next day Harry skipped breakfast as well, not feeling hungry after another night’s nightmare filled sleep, and not wanting to run into Snape.

In Potion’s, before Snape could call for Harry to stay after, Ron didn’t have to create the planned on distraction, because Crabbe and Goyle were suddenly in a fight over something shiny that Harry couldn’t see. Snape moved to break up their fighting, and Harry again escaped without notice.

Ron and Harry’s fourth detention that night was not spent in the attic with Collin and Daniel, but instead out in back of Hagrid’s cabin gathering Shadès Nocturne Lily, which only bloomed under a full moon, and were used to make sleeping Potions.

“Yeh pull ‘em up like this,” Hagrid explained to them, showing them how to grip the night Lily so as not to tear the petals. “Be careful with ‘em, because I don’t think Snape will be too happy wit’ yeh if yeh ruin ‘em all.”

Harry and Ron, glad for the reprieve from Filch, gladly got on their hands and knees and began gathering the Lilies. Hagrid, unlike Filch, was on his hands and knees helping them. Within’ an hour, they were finished, and had pulled all of the Lilies up and put them in a small basket.

“I know I was supposed ter make teh detention hard for yeh, but I can’ do tha’ knowin’ tha’ if you two were fightin’ wit’ each other somat must have been wrong.”

“Everything’s ok now Hagrid,” Harry told him, and Ron nodded.

“Good! Good Harry, I’m glad teh hear it!” It was barely ten thirty when Hagrid sent Harry and Ron back up to the castle. He had offered them cake and tea inside before they went, but Ron insisted that he was dead tired, and Harry agreed, knowing what kind of cake Hagrid usually made.

They were almost back to Gryffindor tower when Snape stepped around a corner and blocked their path. Harry wasn’t sure if he had been waiting there for them, or if bumping into them had been an accident.

“Potter,” he said.

Harry looked at Ron for help, but Ron didn’t know what to do. They didn’t have an excuse to get away from him.

“Done with detention early tonight?” he asked.

Very quietly, and not looking at him, Harry said, “Yes sir.”

“Perhaps then, your detention was not made hard enough. I will see that the error in detention assignment is fixed for your last detention.” He moved off quickly, leaving the two boys there alone.

Once he was out of earshot, Harry said, “You know what that means?”

Ron nodded, and said, “Let’s hope he means he’s sending us back to Filch, and not gonna make us clean out old Potion’s jars.” Ron shuddered, remembering the last detention he had spent with Snape, cleaning old rat and rabbit brains out of jars for two and a half hours.

The next day being Saturday, they were relieved to find that they had the day to themselves. Using the excuse of Quidditch practice, Harry and Ron were able to leave the tower and head outside with the rest of the team.

The cool air sweeping his hair back as he flew made Harry forget about Voldemort shooting him full of arrows in his dreams the night before, and for a short while he was happy. That happiness disappeared immediately at dinnertime however, for both Harry and Ron, as McGonagall approached where they were sitting and handed them a piece of parchment.

“This will be your last detention regarding the fight between the two of you. The next time you decide that you disagree with one another, I would hope your time served reminds you that more peaceful means of settling arguments needs to be used while you attend this school.” With this she walked away, and Harry and Ron opened up the rolled parchment. There was only one line of writing, and it read: Your detention is to be served tonight at seven o’clock in the evening in the dungeons with Professor Snape.

“Well, there’s the end of avoiding him,” Ron said.

Harry nodded. “Thanks for trying,” he told him. Hermione shook her head, taking the rolled up parchment.

“I won’t say I told you,” she said.

“This is going to be disgusting I think,” Ron said as they made their way to the dungeons at seven. Harry was silent. “He aims to keep us up all night if he’s starting us at seven!” Ron ran his fingers through his hair once.

“I hate cleaning rat brains,” he complained.

Snape was waiting for them in his office. Without a word he swept past them and lead them to the largest dungeon classroom.

“Clean,” he told them. “Do not use a spell, because it could interact badly with any spilled potions.”

He gave Harry a look Harry couldn’t discern, and turned to leave.

“If your skin begins to burn, find me immediately.”

When he was gone, back to his study, Harry looked at Ron, and Ron said, “Well, that’s not so bad… I won’t have the smell of Rat brain on me for three days this time… I’ll just lose some skin, maybe a hand, from flesh eating potion.”

Feeling on unsteady ground being so close to Snape, Harry was silent as they cleaned the tables, floors and the wall the door was in, seeing as how it had some kind of purple potion splashed all down it’s side. He was certain that Snape would hold him after the detention was served to speak with him, and was surprised when he did not. They had finished by nine, the time when they were usually just getting started with detention, and had gone to tell Snape that the room was clean.

“Fine,” he told them, “off with you.” He didn’t look up at Harry, and Harry no longer felt uncomfortable, but a little put out that Snape hadn’t been trying to track him down or keep him after class the last few days. It seemed in fact, that he was back to his old self: hating Harry and treating him like every other non-Slytherin student.

Ron laughed and talked the entire way back to Gryffindor tower, glad to be done with their detentions, and glad that they hadn’t even gotten dirty cleaning the classroom like they had the bathrooms and attic.

In the common room, Ron sat with Hermione, who was trying to do homework, but was persuaded to play a game of chess instead with Ron. Harry said goodnight early though, and went to their room. It wasn’t that he was extra tired, or even wanting to go to sleep and sink into Voldemort’s torment earlier; he just didn’t want to be around anybody at the moment.

Lying on his back, Harry stared at the ceiling of his four-poster, curtains closed around him. The darkness was comforting to him for some reason, as he wondered at the change in Snape’s attitude towards him. It couldn’t have been that Harry had told him that he hated him, Harry thought. He had to have understood that Harry had only been angry. This forced Harry to the conclusion that he indeed wanted nothing to do with him now that Harry had accidentally called him the “D” word. His stomach ached with the stupidity of the comment, and he longed to retract the comment, even knowing how he felt.

Harry soon slipped into a fitful sleep. This time his dreams were like he was taking Occlumency lessons again. His mind raced and he dreamt one horrid thing after another. First Ron was chasing him through the castle with a knife the size of his left arm, then he was down in the kitchens under the Great Hall, and Dobby was cooking him in an enormous pot to serve as “Harry stew,” for lunch. Harry knew he was dreaming, and tried to wake himself, but could not. Next Cho was trying to kiss him, but her mouth was filled with razor sharp teeth, and her tongue was that of a snake’s, forked at the end. Again and again the dream changed, and again and again Harry tried to escape to the waking world.

“Now you know Harry Potter,” Voldemort’s voice filled his head, “that you cannot escape the wrath of Lord Voldemort.”

His dream changed again, and Harry’s head was suddenly in a guillotine. He willed his mind to change the dream to something else, but could not make it do so. Before he could do anything, the blade came crashing down on his neck, severing his head with a sickening crunch. Instead of being dead though, Harry’s world was spinning. It took him a moment to realize that it was because he was still seeing through the eyes of his severed head, and his head was rolling away from his body.

When his head finally came to a stop on it’s side in the dirt, it was facing a large platform with a gallows built on top out on the front lawn of the castle. There was only one noose, and there was a man standing there with his hands tied behind his back and a black sack over his head. Harry watched as a masked death eater put the noose around the other man’s neck, and took the sack off his head. Under the sack was Snape.

“No!” Harry tried to shout, but his mouth wouldn’t form the words, and instead there was only a gurgle.

Voldemort’s voice filled his head again, and he said, “Severus Snape, I hereby condemn you for treason against the Dark Lord of the world, Lord Voldemort. You have committed the highest act of treason, and have helped Lord Voldemort’s sworn enemy, who is now dead. For this you are to be hanged forever more.” Harry watched in horror, still unable to wake himself from the dream, as the masked death eater kicked the bucket that Snape was standing on out from under his feet. For long minutes it seemed, Harry watched Snape struggle before he was still.

Harry used every ounce of his strength to fill his mind with blinding light. After agonizing moments of watching Snape hang there, he finally managed and was thrown free of the dream.

Harry was on the floor in his room. It was dark, and the curtains of the other four-posters were closed. Ron’s bed was empty. Harry ran from the room and almost toppled down the steps to the common room, because his legs didn’t want to move as fast as his brain ordered them to. The common room was empty.

He made for the opening in the wall that would let him out to the rest of the castle, but it opened by itself before he got there. Daniel and Collin climbed in. Collin was saying, “He didn’t have to keep us until two am!”

The two boys stopped, catching sight of Harry, but he was past them and out the door before they could say anything.

Down through the castle Harry ran. Three times he almost fell down a full flight of stairs, and once when he reached the Entrance hall he missed the last step and hit the stone floor hard. Pain shot through his body, but he ignored it and pushed himself up, continuing on as fast as he could down into the dungeons.

Severus Snape was just standing from a long night of grading papers, and moving for his study door when it burst open and Harry toppled inside, covered in sweat and tears, and looking paler than he had ever seen him. Immediately Snape was on his knees on the floor by his side.

“What-” he started, but Harry cut him off, choking some of the words out.

“He’s going to kill you! He knows you’ve been helping me and you’re not on his side anymore!”

“Potter, what are you-” even as he said it his face paled a little.

“He’s going to kill you. He promised. High treason against the Dark Lord… He knows!” There was an urgency in Harry’s voice that told Snape Harry was fearful for his, Snape’s life, and if he was that fearful, than it must have come to him in a dream straight from Voldemort’s mind.

Snape gripped Harry’s shoulders tightly and commanded forcefully, “Clear your mind Harry… now!”

Harry shook his head, and Snape said again, louder, “Clear it! He is still with you! Be free of him!” Harry sobbed once, but Snape’s grip tightened on his shoulders. Feeling the warmth of his hands, Harry closed his eyes and took a deep, uncertain breath.

“You can and will do this Potter. I have seen you push me from your mind before, and you can certainly push him from it too.”

Harry concentrated as hard as he could. The vision of Snape dangling from the rope kept coming back to him.

“I will not die Harry,” Severus told him. “He cannot kill me because I have you on my side. Clear your mind of the things he has shown you.”

Finally drawing from the strength Snape was giving him, Harry filled his mind with a light so blinding that it pained him to do so. He held it there for what seemed long minutes, and finally when he released the light, a kind of calm came over him that he had not felt in weeks.

Harry let out a deep breath, and opened his eyes to find Snape’s concerned gaze boring into him. Harry choked, feeling another wave of tears coming on, and desperately not wanting this other man to see him cry. The grip on his shoulders tightened again for a moment, and before Harry knew it he had been pulled into a hug.

“This is my fault,” Harry choked out, “he’ll kill you for helping me.”

“Perhaps,” Severus said calmly, “but I do not believe he is willing to face the protective enchantments surrounding the school, you, and the Headmaster all at the same time to get me.” The calmness of his voice sent another wave of calm over Harry.

“He is coming,” Harry said with certainty after another few moments. Severus finally released him from his grip.

“You sound so certain,” he told him.

Harry didn’t look at him, but said calmly, “He will come. He finally killed me in my dream tonight. I think he’s getting tired of toying with me. It will be soon.”

Snape sighed and pulled Harry up off the floor and closed the door to his study.

“If that is true, we will know it soon enough.” He paused and thought for a few moments. “The fact that he knows I am no longer his spy explains the ceased contact with me over the last few weeks. The last communications I had with him were shaky at best, and both I and the Headmaster believed that he was growing suspicious of my loyalty.”

Harry listened quietly, but still did not look at the Professor.

Finally Harry looked up and said, “I shouldn’t be here. I’m putting everybody else in danger. He knows this is where he’ll have to come to get me.”

Severus spared a glare for Harry, and Harry looked away. “Do not be stupid Potter. This is the place you are most safe, because the Dark Lord fears the powers the Headmaster has.”

“What am I supposed to do then? Just sit around and wait for him to come get me? I can’t live here forever.”

“No,” Snape said, “in time the Dark Lord will grow tired of waiting and cast aside any fears he has of powers he does not understand. But until then, you will remain here, inside the castle, and you will guard your mind at all times. If you feel a foreign presence lingering there, even if you are not certain it is someone trying to reach your mind, you must clear it as quickly as possible. The Dark Lord will count on the connection between you and him as a tool to help him locate and destroy you.”

Harry ran his fingers through his hair. “Great,” he said, “my Quidditch team ought to love me… their Captain that can’t play in any game… ever.”

Knowing it was only a joke, Snape didn’t cast a glare at him, and instead only said, “I am most positive that with this news, the grounds will be off limits to all students in the near future. As it is, the Headmaster and other staff have been working diligently to reinforce the wards around the castle and grounds, as well as placing new ones up.

Harry sighed and suddenly felt very tired, as if he hadn’t slept in weeks. Seeing this, Snape said, “You should return to bed. I have need to speak to the Headmaster in any case.”

Harry’s eyes shot up to his. “No,” he said.

Severus raised a brow. “You do not wish me to speak to the Headmaster?”

Harry shook his head. “I’m not going back to bed,” he told him confidently. “I can’t. I only pushed him from my mind because you were there… He’ll just get back in as soon as I go to sleep…”

Snape sighed now, and said calmly, “You cannot stay awake forever. Perhaps the Dark Lord intends to keep you awake so that he can defeat you simply because you are too tired to fight him.”

Harry shrugged. He didn’t know, but he didn’t want to go all the way back up to Gryffindor tower just to fall into Voldemort’s hands again.

“Fine,” Snape said. “You may stay here as long as you like. I will be in the Headmaster’s office, and I may not return until daybreak.”

Severus opened a desk drawer and pulled from it a long rolled up parchment, worn on the outside and burnt on one edge, closed the drawer, and made for his office door.

Harry watched him pull the door open and pause in the doorway. He seemed to want to say something to him, but couldn’t, and finally stepped into the corridor and pulled the door closed behind him.

Inside the office, Harry looked around and spotted many of the jars full of rat and rabbit brains Ron must have cleaned in previous detentions. Even though Snape was gone, Harry didn’t feel quite so alone as he thought he might if he were in Gryffindor tower. Quietly he moved to a shelf full of books and began browsing for anything he might be interested in reading. On the highest shelf, he spotted a newer looking book with a glossy red cover. He pulled it down and was pleased to find it a wilderness survival book. It was distinctly Muggle. Harry sat down in the visitor’s chair again and began to read.

When Severus returned at nearly five am, Harry was asleep in the visitor’s chair, open survival book in his hand. Snape had forgotten about the book. He had ordered it from a Muggle store in London, and had long since finished it. He had intended to give it to Harry, but had gotten distracted by Occlumency lessons.

From thin air, Snape conjured a cot and blanket with his wand and hovered them to the empty space between the two visitor’s chairs and the bookshelves on the wall. Then he used a Levicorpus charm to hover Harry onto the cot. The boy did not wake. Severus was unsure why he did not simply make the boy go back to his own bed in his own house, but he felt some kind of comfort knowing Harry felt safe enough to sleep here, in his office. It had been a long time since anybody had placed that kind of trust in him. Dumbledore trusted him, but that was different… that kind of trust was out of necessity.