Harry held up the lantern a little closer, and stared at himself in the mirror. Glassy eyes and a chalky-white face stared back. Rivulets of sweat rolled down his pale cheeks, and he felt so cold... So very cold. He couldn't stop shivering; His pyjamas were soaked with perspiration.

Since he didn't have his wand, Harry changed into a clean pair of pyjamas, and a thick, red terry-cloth dressing gown. He slipped on a pair of matching slippers and grappled in the dark until he made his way to the living room. He hadn't thought to bring the lantern with him, but thankfully, there was still a small fire burning in the grate. Harry threw on a couple of more logs, and stared at the flickering flames. The heat just wouldn't penetrate Harry's bone-chilled skin.

Harry ran his fingers through his hair, then leant his head back on the couch and closed his eyes for a moment, but bolted upright a moment later, as images flashed before his eyes, of a boy sitting crossed-legged on a thick carpet of dead leaves and twigs, the moonlight filtering through the swaying branches of the tall trees, illuminating his face in an eerie glow. He sat before a fire, chanting some sort of spell, it seemed. Although Harry couldn't understand the words, as they were in Latin, they sent a chill down his spine. Harry could smell the blood on the ground and smeared on the young man's face. There were feathers scattered on the ground, and Harry felt a thrill of fear as his stomach roiled. It was some sort of sacrificial ritual, he realised. The stench of blood and...death assaulted his senses, and Harry felt the bile rise up. He barely made it to the loo, before he spilt the contents of his stomach. Harry ran the flannel under the cold water, and wiped his sweaty brow.

Harry wasn't quite sure how he made it back to the couch on his shaking limbs, but he grabbed the blanket that he had dragged from his bedroom, and wrapped it tightly around himself. It seemed as though he would never feel warmth again. He shook himself. He was being ridiculous. After all, he had faced many more horrors in his life. This was nothing more than a dream--a nightmare. Real life had presented him with much more horrifying images, after all. And yet...

It all had felt so real. It reminded him of the dream he'd had in fourth year. It was all so vividly real, and familiar. Okay, enough! he admonished himself firmly. This was crazy. It was probably all part of the Dark Magic, and he was giving into it. No--he wouldn't allow himself to lose control again. Harry lay down on the couch, and attempted to control his breathing using the techniques that Severus had taught him. He breathed in, breathed out. The only thing he accomplished however, was to make himself light-headed.

I could really go for a shot of firewhiskey, Harry thought suddenly. Harry eyed the bottle on the bar. He hesitated a moment, because Severus had once mentioned the possible interaction with the Dark Magic, but Harry pushed aside his reservations, thinking only a glass wouldn't hurt. Harry's hands were shaking so badly that he only spilt more than he'd managed to get in the glass. He finally gave up, and took a few swigs directly from the bottle. He instantly felt his quivering limbs warm up and he popped the cork back into the bottle and staggered back to the couch.

----

Severus blinked. A shock of black hair peeked out from under a blanket on the couch, and what looked like, upon closer inspection, a big toe.

What the hell? Severus pulled the blanket from his son's face, and his stomach lurched when he saw how pale Harry's face was. He brushed Harry's fringe aside and his eyes widened in shock, when he saw Harry's scar, angry and red.

He gently shook Harry's frail shoulder. "Harry--son, wake up," Severus said softly.

"Go away," Harry mumbled,pulling the covers back over his head.

"Harry," Severus tried again, but raising his voice slightly. "Why are you sleeping on the couch?"

Harry shook himself awake. He saw the fuzzy image of his father's face crinkled with concern. Harry grappled for his glasses on the coffee table with fumbling fingers.

As Severus handed them to him, his heart lurched at how pale and young Harry seemed. He felt helpless. Why did it always seem that his boy had to suffer, and all Severus could do was sit on the sidelines and do nothing?

Severus put his hand gently on Harry's shoulder. “Harry, are you alright, son?”

Harry looked around in confusion. It took only a moment for it all to come rushing back to him.

"Just a bad dream, that's all," Harry said in a rough voice. He really had no inclination to relive it all again.

"Harry--"

"Look, I really don't want to talk about it right now," Harry gruffly.

Severus nodded. "Very well. Do feel up to attending classes?"

Oh Merlin, Harry thought. He didn't want to sit here all day, thinking about how real the dream felt, the feel of evil that permeated through him, but on the other hand-- going to classes? He just didn't know how he'd function.

"Yeah, I'll just go have a shower." And maybe wash away the feeling of being tainted—of being Dark.

Severus felt that increasingly familiar feeling of worry settle in his gut. He wouldn't press the boy into discussing the dream before he was ready, but whatever the dream was about, had unsettled Harry enough to disturb his sleep, and was cause enough for concern. Harry certainly didn't need anymore pressures on him right now. He hoped that Harry would be cured soon, and they could put this unpleasant experience behind them. Severus had an ominous feeling, however, that it wouldn't be that simple.

"Would you prefer to eat breakfast down here?" Severus asked softly, as Harry came out of his room adjusting his tie. He looked incredibly pale and wore a haunted expression on his face.

Harry shook his head. No, he wanted to forget that dream, and he wanted to be surrounded by his friends and Ginny. He wanted to be normal for a change. But it didn't seem as though normal was in the cards for him, he thought bitterly. Harry had thought that once the Dark Magic was expunged from his soul, that perhaps he'd be allowed to just be a normal teenager, but Harry feared that as was the norm in his life, that once one crisis was dealt with, another would take its place.

"No, let's just get out of here please,” Harry said a little more forcefully than he'd meant to.

"Hold still for a moment," Severus said impatiently as he swatted Harry's fumbling fingers away from his tie.

Severus placed his hands firmly on Harry's shoulders and pulled him back slightly.

"That'll do. Honestly, you'd think after all these years, you'd manage to knot your tie properly.”

Harry had a retort on the tip of his tongue, but held back when he saw the slight quirk of Severus' lips. He wasn't quite in the mood for joking, but he hadn't the energy to deliver a biting rejoinder either.

"Yeah, well, my fingers aren't quite cooperative this morning.”

"Yes well, perhaps that is the culprit," Severus said glancing at the spilt contents of the firewhiskey on the bar.

Harry rolled his eyes.

"I only had a few swigs. I just needed something to relax myself a little," Harry retorted. "I'm an adult and I don't see why I have to explain myself to you anyway."

Severus lurched forward and Harry took a step backwards, when he saw the dangerous glint in Severus' eyes. Severus reached out and grabbed Harry by the collar of his robes. Harry's eyes widened in fear, and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

"You will not speak to me that way," Severus said in a dangerous voice. "I will make allowances for your situation, but I'll not tolerate your disrespect. Is that clear?"

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat. He nodded. "Yes sir," he whispered.

Severus let go of Harry's robes, and tried to reign in his temper. He took a deep breath. One aspect of their relationship hadn't changed since they learnt of his paternity, and that was the fact that Harry still had the power to trigger his anger more quickly than anyone else could.

"I'm sorry," Harry croaked. "I-, I-, didn't mean to-"

Severus felt a sweep of guilt when he realised that Harry was actually afraid of him. After what he had suffered at the hands of his father, he should not have reacted so aggressively. He never wanted his son to be afraid of him.

"Perhaps I overreacted," Severus acknowledged stiffly. "I-apologise too," he said with a pained look on his face.

Harry looked up. He saw the regret and sincerity in his father's eyes. Harry's stomach churned. He just couldn't seem to prevent from provoking the man's volatile temper.

Severus felt incredibly guilty. He knew that Harry was blaming himself for his loss of control. Another symptom of the abuse his son had suffered at the hands of those horrible Muggles. The boy had always felt responsible for others’ anger towards him. Yes, Harry had been somewhat insolent, but not enough to deserve Severus' aggressive response. He was still young, and a little impulsive, but Harry was still a good-hearted and generous young man. The Dark Magic was perhaps making Harry a little bad-tempered and defiant, but Severus knew that his response had not been proportionate to Harry's impertinence.

Severus reached out and gently stroked Harry's scar, which was still slightly red. At the touch of Severus' calloused thumb brushing against his tender skin, Harry raised his eyes to meet Severus' own.

"Perhaps we can have tea later, and if you feel up to it, we can discuss this dream further," Severus said softly.

"Yeah, that'd be great." Harry felt the knot in his stomach relax slightly. Not that he was anxious to discuss his dream, but he did rather enjoy his little chats with his father. Not that he'd admit it to the man. Well, not in so many words.

Harry was quite irritated with himself. Why the hell was he letting such a ridiculous dream bother him? He'd lived worse nightmares. But for some reason the disturbing images wouldn't leave his mind. It wasn't even that bad a dream, really, but the sense of evil he'd felt, had been lingering. Severus had told him that preparations for the White Magic ritual should be complete in several days, and Harry was getting quite anxious for it all to be over. Hermione would be helping with the preparation of the potion, gathering ingredients and such. It took two days for it to brew. There were other artefacts necessary for the actual ritual, such as there had been for the Dark ritual. Harry was quite curious what those entailed. He wondered if everything would be a complete opposite of what they had used for the ceremony to bring Severus back.

--

It was a very long day for Harry, and he dragged himself from class to class. His friends kept sneaking worried glances at each other when they thought that he wouldn’t notice. He had snapped at Ginny a couple of times when she tried to gently inquire what was wrong with him. Luckily they all backed off, and left him alone. Possibly the dark circles under his eyes, and irritable disposition was a motivating factor for them to keep their distance, but he was grateful for it nonetheless.

Unfortunately, he hadn't counted on a confrontation with Draco, when Hermione and Ron dropped him off at Severus' classroom at the end of the day. Draco was serving one of his never-ending detentions, and looked up from scrubbing his fifteenth cauldron. He was never quite sure of Harry's moods these days, and he wasn't anxious to provoke the ticking time-bomb further. Not only was he not anxious to earn himself more detentions, and Severus' wrath, Harry had come too close to losing control and hexing him to oblivion, for comfort.

He held back the scathing comment that was on the tip of his tongue. Unfortunately, Harry felt no such compunction. It was obvious he was in a mood, and Draco prayed that Severus would come back soon. He had gone to retrieve some potions ingredients, and a few more dirty, sooty cauldrons for him to scrub. How considerate of the man, Draco thought bitterly. Since learning of his deception, Severus had set Draco all manner of thankless tasks such as scrubbing cauldrons, cleaning the toilets without magic, re-stocking his storage room with potions ingredients, and helping the House Elves in the kitchens. That was not a chore that the aristocratic Draco had appreciated. Severus was determined, however, to take advantage of Lucius' absence and bring his Godson's holier than thou attitude down a notch.

As Harry was already in a snit, he couldn't prevent himself from taunting the blond.

"Oh did poor little Dwaco break a fingernail?"

Draco bit his tongue to prevent himself from throwing the scrub brush in Potty's smug face. He dared not allow himself to be goaded into another fight. He was in enough trouble as it was. Mind you, this time he wouldn't let himself be disarmed again, but it was still not worth Severus' wrath by giving in to provocation.

Harry was merciless however.

He pointed to a spot on the cauldron. "Oh, I believe that you missed a spot there, ferret boy."

Draco clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. One...breathe...two...another breath, three..."

"Oh, and I do believe that you've got something on your nose...right there," Harry smirked as he rubbed his finger against the outside of the cauldron, and smeared soot on Draco's nose.

Draco really did think that he was exercising the patience of a saint, but he was very close to saying the hell with it, and dealing with the consequences later.

Harry could tell that Draco was ready to lose control, and it gave him enormous satisfaction. There was a little voice in the back of his head that was reminding him that he had promised Severus to exercise control, and he knew that he should be utilising the relaxation techniques that Severus had taught him, but his sleep-deprived mind wouldn't listen to reason.

"Is Dwaco getting angry?"

Draco's knuckles hurt from clenching the scrub brush so hard.

"Oh and by the way Draco, Ginny and Hermione told me what a lovely job you did scrubbing those toilets in the girl's loo."

A throat cleared behind Harry.

Draco wore a smug expression.

Oh Damn.

Harry whirled around to see Severus glaring at him--arms crossed.

Oh crap, how long had he been there?

Snape uncrossed his arms and with a swish of his wand, five dirty, sooty cauldrons appeared and floated to a table beside Harry. Severus flicked his wand again, and a scrub brush appeared beside the cauldron.

He wordlessly pointed to the desk.

Harry dared not look back at Draco, because he was sure that the git was probably gloating. He picked up the scrub brush and with a sigh of resignation, dipped it into the soapy bucket that also appeared beside him, and began scrubbing.

With a whirl of his robes, Severus sat down at his desk, and began the chore of supervising the two infuriating teenagers. He was getting more than a little impatient to finish brewing the potion and get cracking on curing his son, because the boy was testing his patience and endurance. He just wanted desperately to lie back, relax, and concentrate on his relationship with his son. It was extremely difficult for them to forge a bond, when Harry's behaviour was so erratic. Severus was really looking forward to spending quiet time with his son and finally enjoying the freedom that they had fought so hard to attain. Perhaps once this was all behind them, they could just be father and son.

While Severus' attention was caught up in grading papers, both boys kept sneaking glances at each other. Harry gritted his teeth. He could not believe that his father gave him detention with Malfoy. Okay, so maybe he did deserve it but that didn't make the chore any more enjoyable, nor the company.

--

"Hey, where's Harry?" Ginny asked Hermione and Ron, when she entered the Common Room. "I went to Snape's quarters to see if Harry wanted to walk to the Great Hall for dinner with me, and no one was there."

Hermione and Ron were lazing on the couch. Well, Ron was lying on the couch, with his head on Hermione's lap, while she was busy with a quill and parchment, jotting down notes from the tome on White Magic.

Hermione pulled her attention away from her notes, and worried her lip. "I don't know. We dropped him off at Snape's classroom a couple of hours ago." She furrowed her brow. "Do you think that he's still there?"

"Well, I've looked everywhere else, and I haven't seen either Snape or Harry. I mean Harry's not supposed to be on his own, so I imagine that they're together."

Hermione jumped up. Ron looked up grumpily as his head plopped down on the couch. He wasn't pleased to lose his pillow.

Hermione grabbed his arm. "C'mon, Ron. Time for dinner."

At the mention of dinner, Ron jumped up quickly from the couch.

"We'll stop by the Potions classroom and see if Harry is there," Hermione said to Ginny.

Ginny nodded. She was a little worried about Harry. He had really seemed anxious and not himself. As usual, Harry was not forthcoming about what was bothering him.

An unlikely sight greeted the Gryffindors when they reached the door to the Potions Classroom. Severus had just exited, flagged by a glaring Draco on one side and scowling Harry on the either. It took a Herculean effort for the three of them not to laugh, because both Draco and Harry were covered from head to toe in soot and grime.

A Don't even ask and a look that promised dire consequences kept Harry's friends from pressing him further for an explanation as to why Harry and Draco looked like they'd been rolling around in ashes.

Severus didn't even attempt to hide his smirk. Serve the two of them right, he thought. He had better things to do than to referee two mule-headed teenagers. If his son couldn't learn to control his temper then he would suffer the consequences. Honestly, the war was over; it was time that these two former enemies learnt, if not to be best buddies, at least to be civil with each other, and comport themselves in an appropriate manner.

Severus pinched the bridged of his nose. "Draco, go wash up for dinner," he said wearily.

"Yes sir," Draco mumbled, but before he could make his escape, Severus added, "You will report to my office at the same time tomorrow for details on your next detention."

Draco nodded, and sighed inwardly. One more week, and he'd be free from detention. A part of him had the urge to take revenge on Potter for simply existing, and the other part of him didn't want to disappoint Severus again. Frankly, right now, he hurt all over and Potter was just not worth the trouble. He hurried off as quickly as his tired legs would take him. He really had no desire to prolong contact with Potter and his little friends.

Severus pinned Harry with a stern glare. "And you-- come and wash up, and we will have a little chat about your behaviour after dinner."

Harry's face heat up in embarrassment, and he avoided his friends curious looks, especially Ginny’s.

"I'll see you guys at dinner," Harry said sheepishly. And he hurried to catch up with his father, who had stalked off in a sweep of black robes billowing behind him.

A squeaky clean Harry tried to explain to his friends what had occurred with Malfoy, while trying to gloss over his own less than stellar behaviour.

Hermione looked at him disapprovingly, but Ron patted him on the back, when Harry recounted what he'd done.

"Good job mate," Ron nodded in approval. That git deserves everything he gets."

"Well Malfoy's not my favourite person either Harry, but he's not worth getting yourself into trouble over," Hermione admonished.

Ignoring Hermione's disapproving look, Harry chuckled. "Yeah, it was worth the detention just to pay the ferret back."

"Hmm, who cares about that git," said Ginny. She ruffled her hand through Harry's freshly washed hair. "You clean up well." She winked. "And smell good too."

Hermione and Ron rolled their eyes. They'd heard enough complaining from Harry and Ginny about their displays of affection, and how it was nauseating to watch.

"Okay you two, go get a room," Ron grumbled.

"Jealous, are we mate?" Harry snickered.

Well, the mood had definitely lightened up, Harry thought happily. That was until dinner had ended, and he saw his father advancing towards their table and he remembered the promised chat they were supposed to have.

Harry groaned. "I gotta go get wrung out, guys. I'll see you later."

"Oh Harry," Hermione stopped him as he rose from the seat. "Slughorn told me that he and Snape had begun the potion, and asked if I wanted to help later tonight."

Harry brightened up. "Oh and how long does the potion take to brew?"

"Well, forty-eight hours," Hermione responded. "But that's only timed after all the ingredients are added. It's a timed process. Your father and Slughorn have started the base of the potion, and after six hours the moonstone is added, and after twelve hours, the feather of a dove, and hair of unicorn. After that phase is completed it is brewed for forty-eight hours in a sterilized cauldron and--"

The swishing of robes behind her, halted further explanation. She turned around and Snape was staring his aquiline nose down at them.

"Potter," Severus drawled. "I do believe we have some things to discuss."

Harry squirmed in his seat. He was not in the mood to listen to a bloody lecture, but he knew he was going to get it from the man anyway.

He turned his attention to Hermione. "Miss Granger, I understand that Horace has mentioned to you that if you'd like to participate in the preparation of the Potions, you are to come to the lab at eight p.m."

"Yes sir, I'll be there," she said excitedly.

Severus nodded, and crooked a finger at Harry. "This is getting to be a habit, Potter.

----

Blah, blah, blah, blah, and the man just droned on and on. Harry tuned out halfway in-between, You must exercise better control over your temper...and...we are all on the same side now, to- You and Draco must learn to put your past differences aside. As if, Harry thought acidly. The day that he would truly forget everything that Draco Malfoy had done to him, and become his best buddy, would be the day that Severus decided to throw every item of black clothing in the trash, and wash his hair.

Harry was very proud of himself though. He did manage to stay out of trouble for the next couple of days, reminding himself that soon he would be free of the Dark Magic. He avoided Draco like the plague, gave his best effort in all the training exercises that Severus insisted upon, and kept his temper at bay. All in all, Harry thought that he'd been a good little boy, and thought he had made even Severus proud of him. Actually, although it took an enormous effort to refrain from giving into his desire to throttle a certain blond Slytherin, it was well worth it to have his father's approval.

Thankfully, Harry hadn't had any more dreams to disturb his sleep. Of course that could have been because after he had spoken at length with Severus about the details of the dream, and Severus had reassured him that it was most likely a manifestation of the Dark Magic that was controlling his mind, Severus had given him some Dreamless Sleep Potion, after they had done some more meditative exercises. Harry had slept peacefully and chalked up the whole experience to a bad dream and nothing more.

Now, as he and Severus made their way to the Room of Requirement, where they would be performing the White Magic ritual, Harry had butterflies in his stomach.

Harry gasped when he opened the door.

There was a large crystal centered in the middle of the room, circled by ten white candles. The crystal captured the light of the white candles, creating a kalaidesope of colours dancing off the walls. There was what looked like an altar at the front of the room.

Harry stood in awe. The ritual had not even begun and already Harry could feel the peace washing over him.

Severus took his hand. “Come Harry. Let us begin.”

Severus nodded to Horace, who was wearing long, flowing white robes made of silk. He handed one to Harry, and one to Severus, who looked reluctant to put it on.

Harry smirked at him. “C'mon Severus, there are more colours than black in the world you know.”

Severus glared at him, but complied and put the white robes on. Harry did likewise and looked at Horace questioningly.

Horace went to the alter, and returned with a ruby encrusted chalice filled with a steaming lemony-coloured liquid.

Harry wrinkled his nose. “What is this?”

“This is the potion that prepares you for the ritual,” Severus explained. “Its ingredients will prepare and clear out the impurities that inhabit your body. The toxins that are slowly poisoning you will be forced out of your pores—much like perspiring.”

Harry made a face, but pinched his nose, and downed the potion as quickly as he could, gagging as the horrid- tasting potion slid down his throat. It was all he could do not to sick up. After a few moments, however, his stomach settled and Horace motioned him towards the circle of white candles.

Severus and Horace had explained earlier, a bit of how the ritual worked. First of all, the positive energy of the crystals, would combine with the purity of the white candles, creating a powerful force that would draw out evil influences. Then, a liquid that consisted of Essential oil of Myrrh, Essential Oil of Frankincense and Sea Salt, would be sprinkled over Harry, while Severus and Horace chanted the Latin spell that had been created specially for the purposes of expunging the Dark Magic from Harry's soul. The whole ritual is one designed to cleanse the body, mind and spirit of residual negativity after being involved in magical battles. Much like an exorcism.

As Harry sat in the middle of the circle, he felt slightly light headed, and his stomach churned with anxiety. He was quite anxious for it all to be over, but he was also concerned that the ritual might not work, and if it did, would he feel different immediately?

Harry closed his eyes for a moment,and tried to control his ragged breathing. It would work; it had to work, he thought desperately. He just couldn't live this way any longer. Harry eyes fluttered open as he felt a sprinkling of what felt like a drop of oily liquid roll down his face.

“Purgo Anima,” Severus and Horace chanted in unison. “Defaeco Anima, Purgo Anima,” annointing Harry with the oil as they did so.

Harry saw a fine mist rise up, much as when Severus' soul rose from the Horcurx, and swirled around Harry.

Suddenly, the voices seemed to be getting further away, and the room started to swirl around. Then everything went black.

When Harry opened his heavy eyes again, he saw Severus and Horace, staring down at him, with their jaws dropped, and their expressions, frozen in shock