During the night Harry tossed and turned in his bed, trying figure things out . He made the transition to sleep very slowly, but when he did, things were almost exactly the same. The dream, the bright light. This time however, he heard Ginny calling his name again, but it seemed clearer. He tried to go to her, but was paralyzed like the many nights before. It drove him mad nearly, trying to get to her, feeling that his life depended on turning his head to look at her. This went on for what seemed like forever, until suddenly, the room began to get dimmer and the voices more distant.

Harry was awake again. Standing out by the lake like the night before, so very aware of the December chill seeping through his bones and the aching pains that had taken over him once again. But this time, Snape was waiting for him not far from the misty lakeshore, a blanket in hand. He wrapped it around Harry and guided him back to his quarters. When they reached them, it was like the previous night; Harry was settled on the sofa while Snape talked softly to him, waiting for the boy to relax, and for his pain to end. Harry was very grateful for this, and wondered how late it was, and how tired his Professor was. The pain went away eventually, and he was almost asleep.

"Come on Harry, you need to get back to your bed," Snape announced softly as Harry was beginning to nod off.

"But it's so warm," Harry mumbled. "Don't wanna move ..."

"I know. You got off easy last night, seeing as you fell asleep before the pain went away and I was afraid it might return if I woke you. I ended up levitating you to your bed," said Snape, sounding slightly amused."You looked quite rediculous, floating through the corridors ..."

"You did?" Harry asked, mind feeling extremely fuzzy.

"Yes."

"Sorry," Harry whispered.

"What for?" asked Snape, confused.

"For being a burden."

"You're not a burden Harry," Snape said quietly, helping Harry up and draping the blanket over his shoulders before leading him out the door.

He and Harry walked through the still corridors, moonlight pouring through the windows as Snape led the boy up into his dormitory, making sure he got there safely. The pain had not returned, and for this Harry was grateful. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow and did not notice when Snape tucked the covers around him.

***

He awoke in the morning, vaguely recalling the events of the night, which seemed fuzzy from pain and fatigue. He wondered if he had imagined that Snape called him Harry, for he wasn't quite sure. Pondering this, he pushed the covers off and looked to his nightstand, where a note lay. It was from Snape.

It appears you have been sleepwalking Mr. Potter. I'd be positively delighted to glue you to your bed if I did not believe something good can come of this, which is why I must ask you to pay attention to where you are sleepwalking to. You may have noticed that you travelled a little further down the side of the lake than you did the first time you went on a little adventure. If you haven't, you know now. It is my belief that your subconscious is trying to tell you something. Therefore I suggest you apply the art of listening in the hopes that you will discover just what your subconscious is trying to point out to you. If you need instruction on how to listen, ask Granger.

- Severus Snape

P.S. Try wearing shoes to bed. I doubt this will stop soon.

"Who's the note from?" Ron asked sleepily, as he rolled out of bed.

"Snape," Harry told Ron.

"What, did you get detention?"

"Er no, he's just telling me to listen more and ... wear shoes to bed," Harry said, choking back laughter.

"You really need new glasses Harry," Ron said breaking into peals of laughter as he pulled on his socks.

"Maybe," said Harry, joining in with Ron's laughter. It felt good to laugh

***

Harry continued to sleepwalk each night, and things proceeded in the same fashion. He took Snape's advice about wearing shoes to bed, though he wore slippers instead; Neville was really kind and gave him an old pair that no longer fit. And so, every night Harry journeyed a little further down the lakeshore, slowly edging closer to the forbidden forest. And each time Snape followed him and made sure he didn't get hurt, bringing him back to his quarters when the pain started. The aches got a little worse every night, and they seemed to crop up on Harry when he was near the lake or the forbidden forest even during the daytime. Snape said it had something to do with what was in the forest and the place his subconscious was taking him to. One night Harry asked why Snape couldn't just make sure he stayed in his bed, and if that would stop the pain. But Snape said this was important for Harry to recover from what was causing all of the strange things happening to him. So he didn't ask again.

  As more time passed, Snape and Harry's relationship had improved, and they were now on a first name basis outside of class. Professor Snape had said it was getting on his nerves when Harry had begun to refer to him as just "Snape", and that "Professor Snape" was getting annoyingly lengthy. Harry thought Snape was just got sick of calling him Potter all the time, and would feel less stupid if Harry called him by his first name too. After all, Harry visited quite often. Quite frankly Harry still was not sure why Snape didn't hate him anymore. Perhaps it had something to do with what was going on with him.

During these visits Harry had begun to think that it was sort of amazing how much he and Severus had in common. It almost eerie really; they both hated blueberries, had unsatisfactory families, were quite fond of hippogriffs and treacle tart, despised giggly girls and found Dumbledore positively aggravating. But the biggest thing that they had in common, Harry learned one day, was that Severus had known his mother. Harry was delighted when Snape unearthed an old photo album to show him.

"Oh look, my mother took this one shortly before we started Hogwarts. I had broken my arm and Lily brought her new owl Talon for a visit," said Severus, pointing to a faded photograph of two kids. The young Severus was laying in bed with his arm all bandaged up, watching as Lily fed her owl a treat.

"I thought your Mum was a witch, couldn't she heal your arm?" Harry asked.

"No, she was terrible with healing charms, great with potions though. Had to wait a little while to go to St. Mungo's," answered Severus.

"How did you break your arm anyway?" Harry inquired, curious.

Snape froze.

"Severus? Are you ok?"

"Fine."

"You don't have to tell me how you broke it," Harry said, alarm bells going off.

"No, it's alright I guess, you've told me of your family, it's time I shared a little about mine," Severus began slowly, twisting his hands in his lap. "Remember when I said I didn't really get along with my father?"

"Yeah."

"Well, he was a bit of a drunk, and an angry one at that, and one day... he ..." Snape faltered.

"He didn't ...?" Harry asked, horrified.

"He did," Severus said bitterly, fire in his eyes. "Was fired up about something, knocked me down the stairs. I don't think he really meant to, but he still did it."

"Gee, and I thought I had it bad with the Dursleys, getting stuffed in a cupboard and all," Harry whispered. "Kind of makes the freak comments seem a little less harsh too."

"It wasn't all bad Harry, my father was only violent when he drank. It was strange how much a change he went through with a bottle in his hand," Snape sighed, "What I went through hurts about the same as what's going on at your aunt and uncle's. Verbal abuse is just as bad. Sometimes worse. I'm really sorry Albus is so stubborn on the matter."

"Yeah, but at least I do get to stay with the Weasleys most of the summer," Harry said, trying to sound cheerful.

"That is true. Oh, look at the time, I suppose you should run along now, somebody informed me that you have a test tomorrow in a certain greasy haired dungeon bat's class," Severus told Harry with amusement.

"Oh ... right," Harry muttered, cursing himself for forgetting. "See you Severus."

"Goodbye Harry," he said, pulling a few papers towards him and beginning to mark them.

***

The day before Christmas holidays found Harry walking along the corridors of Hogwarts in a rather grouchy mood. He had wanted to go to the Burrow for Christmas with Ron but Dumbledore had sent him a note saying he had to stay because the enchantments weren't quite strong enough there. He would have been fairly okay with this if it weren't for the fact that Hermione was going home too and he would be the only one in Gryffindor Tower. Not that Harry minded the quiet, he just felt a little left out.

Hermione, Ginny and Ron were all busy packing, and Harry was too miffed to stick around while they were. So he trudged down the corridors, trying to determine what he should do in the meantime. Normally Harry might have taken a walk down by the lake, but seeing as every time he got near there these days it felt like he had been trampled by a dragon, he wasn't too keen on doing that. Therefore, after much wandering, huffing and puffing he ended up taking a seat on the base of a statue somewhere on the fourth floor.

He'd been there at least fifteen minutes, thinking about nothing in particular when he heard a noise to his right. Harry glanced down the corridor, and saw that all too familiar mist gathering at the end of it. He looked deeper into the fog, and from within it came the soft sound of distant footsteps that had alerted him. A girl materialised from the mist. Harry took his glasses off and rubbed them to determine whether or not he was seeing things. He wasn't.

"Harry, please ..." called the girl from the mist. Harry stood up, staring at her, frozen in wonder.

It was Ginny again, but she looked different. And she was crying. Harry had never seen Ginny cry like that before.

"Please come back ..." she sobbed with her arm outstretched toward him, her image in the mist fading with the echo of her voice.

"Wait, what's wrong Ginny? Ginny come back!" Harry shouted frantically, starting to run to her, wondering what Ginny was doing here when she should be packing.

Harry reached out his arm toward hers, and was about to gasp her hand when she vanished, leaving him standing there. Corridor empty once more, and nothing left but the heart shattering echo of her voice.

It was then that he realised the difference. Ginny had looked older, and there had been a faded scar across her arm that had not there when he'd last seen her in Gryffindor Tower. Suddenly, a blinding pain shot through his body and he saw briefly a picture of Hogwarts. The castle was swarming with people, fighting. Bodies littered the grounds. Ginny kneeled by a girl, who was asking for her mother. Though the image receded as soon after it came, it stayed, imprinted in Harry's mind. Silent, he stood there, shaking. Wondering. Wishing all he had seen was not real. But his heart told him it was.