"Harry?" Fingers were waving in front of his face and the small part of his consciousness he had left open to the outside world finally registered their movement. He blinked and the fingers came into focus along with a hand and an arm. His protective bubble seemed to sink into the ground and he felt sun and air against his skin instead of water.

"You don't do things by halves, do you mate?" asked Ron, who was sitting on the grass next to Harry. "I mean, you left a few weeks ago with Snape to learn Occlumency and now you're so good at it that you're practically comatose when you occlude."

Harry stared at Ron for a moment, registering first that he was talking and second that he was trying to make a joke. He sat up and rubbed grass and dirt off of his cheek. "How long…?" he asked, looking for Professor McGonagall.

"She went up to the castle a few minutes after you went down. She said she had to speak with Professor Dumbledore," said Hermione. She had an expression on her face that Harry thought was a mixture of worry and interest, with the interest part bordering on excitement. "She told us to stay with you and to wave a hand in front of your face if you weren't awake in half an hour but not to touch you or disturb you otherwise. And to come directly back to the Great Hall once you were awake," she added, glancing a bit worriedly back up toward the castle.

"Yeah," said Harry, still trying to return to full consciousness. He idly rubbed his scar. No pain anymore, not even a twinge.

"What happened?" asked Ginny. She was sitting on the grass next to Hermione and opposite Harry and Ron. "Is it like last year? Can you feel when he's angry? He's not trying to…to…possess you again, like at the Ministry?"

"No!" said Harry very quickly. He didn't quite shout it, but Ginny looked startled. "I mean, he's not attacking me directly or trying to possess me. It's happened a couple other times this summer, when he calls the Death Eaters. He must be really angry when he does it," he added, feeling a little guilty for the easy lie.

"Aren't you supposed to be…well…functional…when you occlude?" asked Hermione.

Harry grinned sheepishly. "Yeah. I'm still having trouble with splitting my consciousness. Snape says my barrier is almost too good—I get lost behind it. But they're not really too concerned about it. I don't think they care if I'm functional or not when I'm occluding—just that I'm blocking the pain and that Voldemort can't get in."

"They? Who do you mean, Harry?" asked Ginny.

"Oh, yeah. Snape and Dumbledore," he answered.

"It's so good that you've finally managed it," said Hermione. "I knew you could do it once you got over your problems with Professor Snape. You'll have to teach me, you know. Do you feel like walking back up to the castle now?"

Ron pulled Harry to his feet and all four of them began the trek up the hill to the front entrance. Harry turned his head several times to glance back at the gates but there was no sign of Snape. He tried to mentally let it go—he was home, back at Hogwarts, with his best friends and he had more than a week until classes started again. His summer work was done. His friends would be here for two more days. The weather was beautiful—perfect for a dip in the lake. Snape would be alright, he'd be fine. He always was…he always came back…

Yet when they had climbed the stairs to the great oak doors, when Ron was pulling the handle and holding the door open for all of them, Harry looked back one more time. Still no sign of Snape. Resolutely, Harry squared his shoulders and went inside with his friends.

HPSSHPSSHPSS

"…and they don't even have dormitories there—the students apparate home every night. They let them apparate at 14 in the States, you know…something about how far apart everything is there." Hermione had been rattling on and on about the Salem Magical Youth Institute. Harry had found it rather interesting at first, especially the parts about Quidditch in the States, which were mostly supplied by Ron and Ginny, and how American witches and wizards had whole courses devoted to the study of Native American magic. Ron and Ginny had started a rather competitive game of Exploding Snap which Ron was now calling "Exploding Snape." Hermione had humored him and charmed a pair of pictures on the Snap cards to look like Snape, but had insisted on adding Professor McGonagall, Professor Dumbledore and Hagrid too, so that the deck began to resemble a Faculty yearbook. Harry didn't know how to tell him not to call the game that, but it grated on his nerves each time Ron said it. Finally, he interrupted Hermione's description of the flying bicycles in Olde Salem (which actually had interested him quite a bit).

"Ron, could you not call it that, please?" He tried to keep his voice neutral, but Ron was having none of it.

"It's a joke, Harry! What's wrong with you? Have you gone all soft on the greasy git? Did he tuck you in at night and read you bedtime stories?"

Ron couldn't have known how much that particular comment hurt. He'd managed to starkly call up one of Harry's deepest longings—to have had someone there for him when he was a child. He closed his eyes and mentally counted to ten. When he opened them again, Ron and Ginny had paused their game and, with Hermione, were staring at him.

"Are you OK, Harry?" asked Ginny. "Has Ron gone and said the wrong thing again?" She shot Ron one of those withering looks that little sisters are allowed to give their big brothers, but perhaps with more venom than absolutely necessary.

"Yeah, I'm OK," he answered, taking a deep breath. He needed to do this now, before anything else came up. He didn't need to keep defending Snape. His friends needed to stop insulting him. "Actually, Snape and I got to know each other a lot better this summer. We've agreed to a truce. I know he's not ever going to be anyone's favorite teacher, and you don't even have to like him, but I do. I mean, I like him. He…he can be funny even. And he's on our side. That's the one thing you have to believe. He's part of the Order and he's working for Dumbledore."

"Wait! Did you say you like him?" repeated Ron. "I mean, I understand you had to work with him to learn Occlumency and live with him and all, but I was hoping for stories about how he wears the same underwear for weeks on end and never bathes and makes you eat boiled parsnips for pudding and sleeps in a coffin…"

"Ron!" exclaimed Hermione. She really looked angry. "Be sensitive, won't you? Harry has obviously bonded with Professor Snape and you're going to have to get used to it. Really, Harry, I think it's great," she said, turning her focus to Harry from Ron. "Professor Dumbledore trusts him and so should we."

"Well, I don't have to like him," said Ron with an exaggerated sigh. "But won't Malfoy and the other Slytherins wet themselves when Snape treats you like a human being in class? Maybe he'll even dock points off Slytherin if they sabotage your potions! Can you imagine the looks on their faces?"

"Yeah, Ron, about that…" began Harry. He was actually glad that Ron had brought that up. It saved him from having to figure out a way to introduce the subject of how Snape would be treating him into their conversation. But for some reason, he didn't clear up Ron's assumption that Snape would be teaching Potions again.

"No, really! Can't you see it? Draco Malfoy gets 10 points docked and…"

"Ron," interrupted Harry. "That's not going to happen. Nothing's going to change in class or in public. He has to treat me the same as always."

Ron stared at him a minute. A look of understanding came over his face. "You mean like crap, then?" said Ron. "How can you say you like him…that you have a truce with him…when he's going to keep treating you like you're the dog doo on the bottom of his shoe?" Ron's voice was rising, getting properly indignant. Ron reacting like this, loyal to a fault, warmed his heart as much as it annoyed him.

"Ron," said Hermione as she wedged herself on the sofa beside him. Ginny, sitting on the floor on the other side of the low sofa table, had gathered the cards up into an untidy pile. "Snape's a spy." Hermione whispered that last word and looked around to make sure no Slytherins were peaking out of the fireplace or hiding under the potted plants near the window. "He can't just up and be friends with Harry. Think about it! He's back…Voldemort's back. Some of the Slytherin's parents are Death Eaters. They'd report back in a heartbeat if Snape started being nice to Harry."

Ron opened his mouth, closed it again. "Oh, yeah…I guess you're right," he said, turning so red that his freckles on his nose seemed to join together to look like one giant nose-sized freckle. He turned to Harry. "'M sorry mate. Hermione's right. Sometimes I don't think before I talk."

"Sometimes?" said Ginny. "Like when you asked that girl sitting across from us on our trip back to London what a Game Boy was?"

"I didn't know!" he said. "How was I supposed to know that nearly every kid in the US and Great Britain had one? It was making all sorts of annoying noise and I was trying to sleep!"

"Hey, it's really OK," said Harry. "I mean, I understand why Snape has to keep acting like he hates me and I'll just have to take it. At least I'll know it's an act, that things really are different between us, no matter how many points he takes or how many detentions he gives me."

"Or how many times he humiliates you," added Ron.

"Yeah, that too. Thanks, Ron." Harry looked at his friend rather crossly.

They ate dinner in the Great Hall. Harry immediately looked for Snape, but he didn't appear during dinner or during the time afterward that they spent in the Hall playing miniature golf. Ron, Hermione and Ginny had played it in Boston, though Hermione said you could find mini golf courses in the U.K. too. They described it to Professor Dumbledore and he and Professor McGonagall transfigured forks into clubs and napkin rings into different colored golf balls. It took a bit of time for them to get the hang of the courses themselves, but they soon had nine holes complete with windmills, loop-the-loops, a water jump and plenty of banks and bumpers. Ron was absolutely horrid at the game, managing to knock his ball across several holes on most shots. He got an unlikely hole-in-one which Hermione refused to count as he had teed off on Hole 4 but sunk the ball in Hole 7. Ginny, however, was a natural and Harry and Hermione played passably. The surprise was Professor McGonagall, who gave Ginny a run for her money and ended up playing quite dirty, managing to knock Ginny's ball out of position a fair number of times.

At 9 o'clock, Professor McGonagall sent everyone back to Gryffindor Tower, but asked Harry to meet her in her office in a few minutes.

"There's something I haven't told you yet," he said to his friends as they walked up toward Gryffindor Tower. "I have a new guardian. Dumbledore actually got the Dursleys to sign me over to Professor McGonagall."

"So that's what Mom was going on about!" exclaimed Ron. "She and Dad were talking at the breakfast table today all hush hush but I heard her say something like 'Minerva won't spoil him like we would.'"

Harry laughed. "I don't think she'll spoil me, but it might feel like it after the Dursleys…" He trailed off out of habit.

"Well, personally I'm glad it's Minerva and not Mum and Dad," said Ginny. "I have enough big brothers as it is." She added that with a little wink in Harry's direction that made him blush and look at his feet.

They parted at the staircase, Harry turning to go on to McGonagall's office and Ron, Hermione and Ginny continuing to Gryffindor Tower. He stumbled suddenly as a sharp pain stabbed at him, pulsing through his scar. By the time he reached the office door, he was holding his head with his right hand and clutching his left arm against his body.

"Come in, Mr. Potter," called Professor McGonagall. She looked up at him as he entered, then stood in alarm. "What is it Harry?" She moved quickly around the desk and led him to a chair while he continued to hold his head and his arm, his face white.

"What is it?" she asked again.

Harry tried not to cry out. The sharp pain had ebbed but continued to radiate with occasional spikes. It didn't feel like the Cruciatus at all and he resisted the impulse to Occlude to end it.

"Snape," he replied, panting. "Where is he?"

"Harry, Severus is back in his quarters, here at Hogwarts. He arrived while we were eating dinner. Has something happened?" She watched him nod and drop his head to his knees. "Stay right there—I'll check on him now." She pointed her wand at the fire, making it flare up, and was gone seconds later with a flash of floo powder.

Five minutes later, the pain in both his head and his arm suddenly disappeared, leaving only a vague throbbing. Five minutes after that, the door to the office opened and Professor Dumbledore walked in.

"Harry, Minerva said I'd find you here," he began.

"What happened to Snape?" he said, standing up and facing the Headmaster.

"Harry, sit down. Professor McGonagall is down with Professor Snape. He was quite worn out when he returned from his…meeting…earlier and decided to take a relaxing bath. He managed to trip and fall while getting out, hitting his head on the tub and breaking his arm in the process. Professor McGonagall has called in Madam Pomfrey and they are taking care of him in his quarters. I believe he was quite surprised to find Minerva staring down at him on his bathroom floor."

"Oh," said Harry. He rubbed his head then stretched his left arm. "I think they've given him a pain potion."

"They have," said Dumbledore. "Are you feeling well enough to return to your dormitory? Professor McGonagall simply wanted to tell you that Severus had returned and was fine."

Harry smiled at the irony. "I'm OK. Will you tell him…Professor Snape, that is…that I'm glad he's back? And to be more careful in the bathroom or I'll have to send Dobby in to supervise his baths?"

Dumbledore smiled. "I will."

HPSSHPSSHPSS

Harry and his friends spent the better part of Thursday at the lake swimming and sitting on a blanket in the sun talking. Hagrid made an appearance just after lunch, wearing, to the shock of all, a pair of enormous orange swimming shorts.

"Wow!" exclaimed Ron. "The entire Chudley Cannon Quidditch Team must have donated their uniforms to get enough fabric for those shorts!"

"Those are more than orange," whispered Harry to Hermione. "They're the color of traffic cones!"

Hagrid didn't appear to be wearing a shirt, but the hair on his chest and back was so thick it looked like he had on a dark, wooly vest. Hagrid devised a fun game wherein he stood upright in almost three meters of water and Ron, Harry and Ginny would take turns and swim out and dive off of his shoulders. They even talked Hermione into trying it once. She stood on one broad shoulder while Ginny stood on the other. They grabbed hands and jumped together, Hermione screaming until she went underwater.

After an early dinner, they stole away to the Room of Requirement, where Hermione, walking back and forth in front of the blank wall, managed to get the room to create a fair representation of her parents' living room complete with television, VCR and Super Nintendo game console. It was a lot of fun to watch Ron with the game controllers. He played like a six-year old, moving his whole body with the controller as he attempted to get Mario back on top of Yoshi and navigate through the Ghost Houses. Hermione's parents turned out to be movie buffs too, and they watched Toy Story and Babewhile eating popcorn and drinking Coke then settled down to watch The Usual Suspects. They all four squeezed onto the green and white striped sofa which stretched a bit to accommodate them. Hermione and Ron ended up on one side and Ginny and Harry on the other. With Ginny cuddled against him, sharing a bowl of popcorn, Harry wondered if life could get much better and quite forgot about Voldemort for several hours.

Ron, Hermione and Ginny had to leave the next afternoon but Professor McGonagall allowed them to spend the morning on the Quidditch Pitch. Hermione excelled at everything magical—except flying—so Ron took her up on a slow-moving school broom. Harry was fairly certain it was a ploy by Ron to get Hermione to wrap her arms around him in that viselike grip. He wondered if Ron's circulation was cut off because once or twice he looked like he wasn't getting blood to his head at all and had a vague, startled expression on his face. Ginny, though she had proven quite cuddly last night, was all business on a broom and she and Harry tossed a quaffle back and forth and later took shots on Ron while he and Hermione together guarded the goal.

After a rather raucous picnic lunch on the grounds near Hagrid's hut and a trip to admire the growing fire lizards (they were old enough to handle now and Ron kept turning over the orange ones in wonder), Harry hugged his friends goodbye as they flooed away, one after the other, back to the Burrow. Ginny was the last to go, and she gave him a quick kiss on the mouth before tossing in her handful of floo powder.

"Wow, thanks!" he called after her, feeling a bit light-headed and slightly foolish. You weren't supposed to thank a girl for a kiss, were you?

The afternoon, a long, boring, uneventful afternoon, loomed before him. He considered going back down to see Hagrid but he'd gotten several more blisters on his fingers and didn't want to tempt fate anymore. Professor McGonagall had returned to her office, leaving him with an open invitation to come up and help her sort supplies if he grew bored. He didn't think he could ever be that bored. He was still in the small room behind the Great Hall, the room he'd been sent to after his name appeared out of the Goblet of Fire, and he wandered back into the Great Hall.

Snape was standing in the doorway between the Great Hall and the castle Entrance Foyer. Harry had not seen him even once since he had hurried toward the Hogwarts Gates Wednesday afternoon. Oddly, Snape was dressed in Muggle trousers and a short-sleeved blue polo.

"Are they gone?" he called across the hall.

"Yes, it's safe to come out now," teased Harry, walking toward him. He could see Snape roll his eyes, even at this distance. "How's your arm?"

Snape twisted it this way and that. "Fine," he answered, "and it will remain so even without that house elf babysitting me in my bath."

Harry grinned.

"So you're ready to go then?" asked Snape.

"Go? Go where?" asked Harry.

"You asked for one more weekend before term started," said Snape. "This is it." He tossed Harry a stuffed backpack. "Professor McGonagall did me the favor of going to your dorm and packing a bag for you. I didn't think my heart could stand two visits to the Gryffindor Common Room in a single week. I certainly hope you didn't have dirty underwear in your drawer."

Harry grinned and adjusted the backpack on his shoulders.

"So where are we going, anyway?"

Snape didn't answer, instead leading Harry out the front door and down the stairs. They walked together amicably past Hagrid's hut and out the gates with their winged boars. Snape stopped and turned toward Harry.

"Hold on," he said, taking Harry's arm and turning on the spot.

They popped back into existence a moment later in the middle of a noisy sidewalk, but no one seemed to notice. A bright yellow and blue bus with "Magical Mystery Tour" emblazoned on the side in rainbow colors stopped right in front of them and Snape produced tickets out of his pocket. Snape handed one to Harry and said "Welcome to Liverpool."