Last time:

"No...no don't...please...." His eyelids were pressed tightly shut as his voice grew louder. Sweat dribbled down his forehead for all it was a dream he was suffering from. "Please....don't....please...no....No!....NOOO!" The last word was a long drawn out cry that echoed round the room out into the house. From the sitting room the Potions Master's head jerked up, and he jumped to his feet. Dashing for the stairs, he cursed softly that he relaxed at all after what he had seen. He should have realized that the boy would have nightmares! But there was no time to reprimand himself, so he just continued up the stairs to Potter's room.

When Severus got there, he found the child sitting in the chair straight as a board. There seemed to be a glittering about Harry, causing him to pause slightly. He then approached the child slowly. Then the boy spoke, saying in a sharp voice "Don't...touch me." Blinking, Sev stopped where he was, looking at the back of the youngling he had taken in.

Harry forced himself to relax slightly, and murmured "Sorry Professor, but I'd rather not blast you across the room right now." He hoped Snape wouldn't ask any questions about that. He was ashamed that the control he had gained after the 'Aunt Blow-up' had failed. He had prided himself on that control. It was what had kept him alive in the graveyard. He wondered why he hadn't blasted....he quickly pushed that thought to the back of his mind. It wouldn't do to dwell on that memory.

Severus blinked quietly, and nodded to himself. He said just loud enough to be heard "There will be potions in the bedside table tonight. I suggest you get back to studying Mr. Potter." He walked away, now realizing what the glittering was. He cursed mentally, wishing he had been able to do worse then he did to that whale. He had noticed the boy's control over the past two years, though had never mentioned it. He had thought it was merely for mischief purposes (and far be it for the Greasy Git to give a Gryffindor a compliment). For that control to be utterly destroyed, was very grevious indeed.

***

As the days wore on, both were caught up in their own thoughts. Hedwig managed to get Harry's presents for him, for which he was grateful. His friends asked where he was, but he sent back the same message that they had been giving him for the past month or two 'Can't risk anything in a letter.' He knew it was petty to act that way, as there was good reason not to put things in letters, but he had been frustrated with the lack of information.

He was glad for the presents, though. Especially for Hermoine's gift of 'Meditation: it's uses in magic'. So he added in his letter to Hermoine: Thanks for the book, by the way. It will truly be useful to me in the coming days. He gave minimal thanks to the others for their gifts, though he did show he was appreciative. But it wouldn't do to seem to pleased through letters.

Harry was right about the book being useful. Studying the various Meditation techniques as well as how they related to the magic-world, put things in perspective. As he began to do the meditations, he soon regained the control that he had lost. It was still a tremulous control however, for it didn't take only a few days to have an iron grip on ones magic. And soon enough it was two days till his trial when the Professor called him down to the study.

As the boy came in, Severus studied him discreetly. He no longer saw that glimmering of uncontrolled magic, and the face was as calm as ever. When the boy took the seat that Sev directed him to, the Potions Master gathered his thoughts. He then began to speak "The Headmaster has requested that we go to Headquarters. As I am sure your friends would much like to be there for you in two days, I would like to know if you wish to stay there after my busineiss there is finished."

Harry looked surprised, briefly. Then he returned to his calm state. That was merely to hide his disappointment. He had actually been enjoying his time with the Professor, despite the fact that he wasn't allowed to forget his homework. To be asked if he would like to leave was a blow. Not knowing what to say, he stalled for a bit. He needed more time to think about this.