Harry did not sleep in the next morning. At fifteen before 8, Snape knocked on his door and waited only a moment before pushing it open, announcing breakfast in fifteen minutes. Harry barely made it on time. He had trouble putting on his shoes as his hand hurt and his fingers felt numb and tingly. Fortunately, breakfast was bangers, toast and left-over apple slices, so he didn't have to do anything too dexterous in order to eat.

Snape finished before Harry and went out to the porch. Harry joined him a few moments later, standing beside him next to the Pensieve.

"Do you have objections to me viewing this with you?" asked Snape. "I would like to make sure you catalog the differences between a dream memory viewed in a Pensieve and a real memory."

Now that the dream memory was in the Pensieve it was even harder for Harry to recall it. So he shrugged, hoping there wasn't anything too humiliating in it. He'd had those kinds of dreams before—finding himself in Divination class completely starkers, or wielding a light saber against Death Eaters. Snape took his shrug as a yes and stirred the Pensieve until the sand castle scene glimmered again. He glanced at Harry and together they leaned down to view the memory.

As with his previous Pensieve experiences—well, those where he actually entered the Pensieve—he felt the familiar sensation of falling, then landing lightly within the memory. Unlike his previous experiences, however, the edges of the scene were blurry so that only a very limited piece of the beach was visible. The sea must have been right behind dream Harry and Snape, and Harry could hear the softly slapping waves, but they weren't visible. The dreamscape seemed to disappear in haze where the sea should be.

Harry focused back on the figures. Dream Harry appeared to be several years younger—perhaps only 11 or 12. He was wearing worn jeans and a too-large green t-shirt that hung down over one shoulder. He was busy digging a straight trench in the sand with a stick, seemingly delighted at the way the water rose up to fill the hole. His glasses were held together by a bit of tape at the bridge of his nose. Dream Snape was kneeling several feet away, dressed in his Hogwarts teaching robes, which were hiked up so that he was kneeling directly on the sand. He was using his hands to sculpt an elaborate sand castle.

The real Snape spoke softly from beside him. "By now you have noticed that the extent of the dream venue is limited to the central action. The beach disappears beyond this, as does the ocean. This is the easiest way to discern if the memory you are watching is a real memory, or the record of a dream."

Harry had noticed these things, of course, but his attention had refocused on his younger self. Dream Harry—child Harry—had stood up and was regarding the castle his instructor was building.

"It looks like Hogwarts," he stated, pointing to a spot on top with the stick in his hand. "That looks like the astronomy tower."

"It could be Hogwarts," answered Snape, "though there are a great number of castles in Scotland and Wales. It could be any one of them."

"Do they all have astronomy towers?" asked dream Harry. Harry could detect skepticism in his voice. Harry clearly remembered not trusting adults at that age—or ever, to be honest.

Snape didn't answer. He was using a fingernail to add detailing to the façade of the tower.

"Is it safe?" asked dream Harry after a moment, taking a step closer.

"It could be safer," answered dream Snape. "Some castles have moats."

Beside him, Snape had been very still. Harry glanced over and saw that he was watching the unfolding dream intently.

"I can add a moat," answered Harry. He began tracing a curved line in front of the castle with his useful stick. Dream Snape appeared to have finished his work, for he sat back on his heels and watched dream Harry work. It took little time to complete the moat, even with dream Harry rounding out the edges with his hands. Harry glimpsed a wave or two as dream Harry worked on the ocean side of the castle, but they disappeared as he completed his circular moat.

The moat had filled with water as Harry dug.

"Is the castle safe now?" asked dream Harry again of dream Snape.

Dream Snape eyed the trench critically. "It's safer," he answered. "It could be safer still, though."

Dream Harry thoughtfully regarded their creation. It was evident by his next statement that someone had told him stories as a child—or he had read them himself—for he firmly stated: "It needs a moat monster—a sea serpent, perhaps."

Dream Snape nodded his approval. Dream Harry lifted the stick in his hand to his temple as he leaned in over the moat. A strand of memory soon clung to the end of the stick, and dream Harry shook it softly over the moat. The strand fell into the water, where it began to froth and divided into a half dozen or more shorter strands. Soon, the miniature forms of a giant snake, a basilisk, an oversized spider, a dragon, a troll, a three-headed dog, a blast-ended skrewt, a disembodied brain and curiously, a small domestic dog were all flailing about in the water. Harry noticed that his perspective changed and the castle and moat appeared much bigger now that they were the sole focus of the two dream figures.

"They can't swim," stated dream Harry sadly.

"No, they can't," said dream Snape, rather matter-of-factly. The two continued to watch silently as the small figures disappeared one by one beneath the waters of the moat.

And that was that. The dream memory simply ended and the dreamscape dematerialized. Harry found himself once again standing next to Snape beside the Pensieve.

"I think," said Snape wryly, "that this is an appropriate time to begin our talk about symbolism."

"You think?" asked Harry. "Even I understood that one. Are you sure that the sea is what's doing this to me?"

"Doing what to you?" asked Snape as he beckoned to Harry to follow him. He had picked up two beach chairs, but this time headed to the front door instead of down to the seaside through the back porch door.

"You know—making me have these odd dreams," answered Harry. "You have to admit that one was odd." He stood beside Snape in the front garden while Snape set up the chairs to face each other.

"I will admit it was very focused," said Snape. "I suspect, in fact, that you had something very specific on your mind right as you fell asleep in the hammock." He settled into one of the chairs and Harry sat down in the other. "Care to share, Mr. Potter?"

"I don't…" but he did. He did remember what he had been musing about as he swung back and forth in that hammock yesterday. He'd been thinking of his experience in the water, bobbing around in the simulated womb, learning to desensitize, to shut out all thought and all noise. He'd practically been in a trance when Snape had popped his bubble, literally and figuratively, ending the Bubblehead charm and pulling a startled Harry from the shallow water. He had dared to ask Snape then, as they sat on the beach chairs, drying in the sun, what his own Occlumency barrier material was.

Snape did not answer at once. But when he did, Harry was reminded of Dumbledore's non-answer about his mysterious glove.

"I think you will have to find that out yourself, Mr. Potter. Perhaps before the end of the summer I can introduce you to Legilimancy."

Now, though, Harry knew he didn't need to learn Legilimancy to guess Snape's barrier material. He remembered Snape's reaction when he had chosen water himself, and had asked him if it was an adequate choice. "It has proven to be a strong tool for . . . some." He hadn't thought much about it at the time, being wrapped up in the first sea-dream, but the pause, the hesitation, spoke volumes.

Now, sitting in the garden with Snape, facing each other in low chairs more suitable for the sand than the grass, Harry considered carefully before replying.

"Right before I had this dream, I was thinking of what you might use as your barrier, sir," he answered. "And I was thinking that it must be water—you sure have some very good ideas about it, anyway, and have been very supportive of me using it too."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "My barrier is indeed water," he answered. "And it is true that it is not as commonly used in Occlumency as others. Interestingly, I began my Occlumency training using the moat environment, just as your dream depicted, though I no longer use it. It became…less effective…after a time." He didn't offer more about himself, but continued with. "What does the dream mean, then? You indicated you understood it."

"The whole dream is about successful Occlumency," he answered. "The moat is the barrier, water the barrier material. The castle is what is being protected—the Occlumens, I guess. The monsters are the attackers and they're unsuccessful in breaking through the barrier."

"A valid interpretation, and the most obvious given our purpose in being here," said Snape. "Are there others?"

"Others?" asked Harry, clearly confused.

"Yes, others. Other ways of interpreting the dream. After all, I promised you a discussion of symbolism today, and how the elements in your dreams can help you with Occlumency. Dissect it further. What of the stick?"

"The stick?" Harry felt like a parrot and tried to come up with something. "Well, I used it to dig, and as a wand."

"And as a pointer. Where was your shovel?"

"I didn't have a shovel. I had a stick."

"Children at beaches have shovels."

"I didn't. I had a stick. And besides, this was a dream."

For the second time in his life, Harry saw Snape smile. It was not bitter like the one he'd allowed when Harry had asked if he'd remember his detention after removing the memory of it. Instead, it was a pleased smile. Harry suddenly understood that Snape was enjoying egging him on, playing with him.

"OK, OK. The stick is a tool, then, right? A versatile tool. It can be a shovel, or a wand, or a pointer. In the Muggle World, kids use sticks as guns and swords all the time. And light sabers," he added, teasing.

"I am acquainted with Star Wars," answered Snape. "I was about to start my final year at Hogwarts when it was released."

Harry's mouth dropped open.

"Close your mouth, Potter. You're letting in flies," quipped Snape.

"You went to the cinema?" asked Harry. "You know about cinemas? About movies? Ron had never even heard… Wait a minute."

Snape continued to gaze steadily at Harry. The gears were turning very fast in Harry's mind. Snape had said that he and Lily were childhood friends. But Harry hadn't really thought about what that meant. Not until now. If they were childhood friends, did that mean they knew each other before Hogwarts?

"You … you grew up in the Muggle World? You're Muggle-born? Like Hermione? Like my mum… No…."

"We are quickly getting away from our discussion of dreams," answered Snape. "I told you very little about your mother and myself—just enough to sate that incurable curiosity you exhibit. And I will tell you just enough now to answer your question. Then we return to our topic. No, I am not Muggle-born. I am a half-blood, like yourself, though in honesty, both your parents were wizards while only my mother was magical. My father was a Muggle. Your mother and I—and by default your lovely Aunt Petunia—grew up in the same neighborhood. Now, enough. Give me another symbolic element from the dream."

"The castle," muttered Harry automatically. "Wait. You know my Aunt Petunia?"

"Mr. Potter."

Harry swallowed and looked down at his hands. He should be grateful, he knew, for this small amount of information. Yet it really wasn't enough. Not nearly. But things were going very well between himself and Snape. Maybe he could work in more questions here and there, surprise him into revealing something else when he was in a particularly relaxed mood. "OK, the castle…."

Thirty minutes later, they had thoroughly dissected the dream and Harry understood that the castle could represent safety, or home and that the monsters could have been there to protect the castle, not attack it. In that case, their demise would be because the barriers were not strong enough instead of too strong. They then discussed why Snape was in his teaching robes (there were several interesting theories) and why Harry was not dressed as a Hogwarts student.

Snape did a quick tempus with his wand. Harry looked at the numbers hovering in the air. 9:30. They'd been at this an hour already.

Snape frowned at the numbers but didn't comment on the time.

"We haven't yet touched the first dream, and that is really what I'd hoped to accomplish today with you. I'd like to put some context around the dream as I saw it and let that serve as our starting point for discussion. Do you still remember the dream clearly?"

Harry nodded. "Writing it all down right afterward helped. I can still remember most of it."

Snape leaned back a bit in his chair and adjusted his legs, stretching them forward. "Think of the dream as an attempt to deal with the hurts you have experienced, the fears you currently have, and your uncertainty and fear of what the future may require of you. Remember that our dreams are our minds' way of sorting out these issues. A good place to begin is the beginning…"

"That was in the hallway, with Luna," supplied Harry. "Do the shoes mean something? I don't quite…" He stopped when he saw Snape's mouth twitch.

"I'm sure the shoes do mean something, but there's a more meaningful symbol in this scene, don't you think?"

"Well, the thestral. They obviously symbolize death."

"Do they now?" asked Snape.

"Well, don't they?" answered Harry, not really in the mood to play Snape's game. "You can't see them unless you've experienced death. They look pretty much like death warmed over—all bones and leathery skin and all."

"Yet they are living creatures who are born, who eat, who grow, who reproduce and who ultimately die. There are thestral foals just as there are kneazle kits and Cerberus pups."

"Well, they're related to death, anyway," persisted Harry.

"I'm not saying they are not," answered Snape. "I am merely asking you to look beyond the most obvious. When you see a thestral, what does it evoke in you? What do you think about?"

Harry didn't answer and Snape rephrased the question.

"Harry, who do you think about?"

"Cedric," answered Harry, almost whispering. "And Sirius."

"Exactly. Because a thestral isn't really a symbol of death, but a reminder of the dead among us. You cannot see one unless you have experienced death, but seeing one will often pull at our heartstrings, reminding us of those we have lost."

Harry nodded, feeling a lot more somber than he had when they had set up the chairs in the front garden and begun their conversation. "So, the thestral symbolizes my sense of loss?"

Snape's face softened. "Exactly. Now we will discuss Miss Lovegood."

"Luna?"

"Do you know a different Miss Lovegood? Of course Luna Lovegood. I have been wondering why she is the only one of your friends who makes an appearance in this specific dream."

"She was the one who told me I was just as sane as she was when I first saw the thestrals and no one believed me."

Snape mouth twitched infinitesimally. Harry saw it and smiled. "Yeah, that really comforted me."

"I think there is more, though," prompted Snape.

Harry considered a moment, looking out across the garden at the butterflies flitting around the flowers. "I … I suppose I trust her."

"And you do not trust your other friends? Mr. Weasley? Ms. Granger?"

"Of course I trust them!" protested Harry. "Luna…Luna is just…different. It's like she's real inside. Pure. No matter what others think she's always true to herself. I admire that in her."

"Hence the unicorn," explained Snape. "Purity and strength. Inner beauty."

"She comes back again in the dream—on the tower."

"And you allow her to pull you onto the back on the thestral, which then dives over the side of the tower."

"I said it before—I trust her."

"And therein lies the rub," quipped Snape. "Trust. We will be continuing this conversation tomorrow, and discussing that very concept." Harry caught him watching his injured arm as he unconsciously flexed his hand. "How long has your hand been bothering you?"

Harry stilled immediately. "Not long. Well, since I woke up, I guess."

Snape sighed. "You do not even think of telling someone, do you? Well, Madam Pomfrey has promised a visit today anyway and she will examine it. I will be leaving soon to spend the rest of the day at Hogwarts as the Headmaster has requested my presence. Please keep the original schedule we set for reading and physical therapy. You can fend for yourself for lunch. Madam Pomfrey will be here in time for therapy and will take care of your potions. Do not leave the confines to the garden fence if you feel you must spend time outside. And if you feel up to writing, continue in your journal and add the word 'Trust' to the top of a new page. I will return for a late supper. Understood?" Snape stood and folded his chair.

"Understood," answered Harry, standing as well. "What's going on at Hogwarts?" he asked casually.

"The Ministry is still there working on the wards," answered Snape. "The Headmaster simply wants me to be seen from time to time." He gave no other explanation but Harry understood. If Voldemort had a plant in the Ministry, they would not want to make it obvious that Snape was not at Hogwarts.

"Oh, and Mr. Potter…" Harry was folding up his chair as Snape paused on the front porch and turned to face him. "You'll have a lot of unstructured time today. I suggest getting a start on your summer assignments." He had the audacity to smirk as Harry's face fell.