Harry was lying on Sirius' sofa. It was dark with the exception of the flickering amber light from the fireplace. Harry had his back turned away from the hearth and kept one arm over his eyes to block the light. He did not want to be caught off-guard should the Headmaster arrive or anyone else came into the room uninvited. He did not want people to see how upset he really was over the fight he had with his godfather.

Harry was still angry with his godfather…very angry. So far, no one had been able to provide Harry with any reasonable explanation as to why his mum had left Professor Snape in favour of his dad. So far, it just looked like his parents were a couple of back-stabbers and Sirius didn't seem to see anything wrong with that. The man treated it as some sort of lovely joke.

From what little Harry thought he knew of Severus Snape, the man did not trust easily. His mum probably had to move mountains to get Snape emotionally close enough to propose. For his mum to betray that trust…and with a man that apparently despised Snape…it was no wonder his Potion's Master was bitter and jaded and Harry seemed to be the outlet of his resentment.

It didn't make it right, but Harry understood.

Before Harry had arrived at Hogwarts, he had no friends and was desperate to make some. He would do anything for Ron and Hermione. After all of this time, if he found out that one of them had betrayed him…say…Ron had joined the Death Eaters or Hermione sold him out to Rita Skeeter, Harry didn't know if he could ever allow himself to trust anyone ever again.

Although there seemed to be no love lost between Remus and Snape, they at least seemed to have a grudging respect for each other and Harry could never remember Remus say anything derogatory about the professor. Remus even defended Snape from his best friend, for all the good that did. Was that what it was like when they were in school? Harry would like to know but he doubted he would get any answers from any of the parties involved.

The more Harry thought about it—the more he fumed. If Sirius seemed to think the whole situation funny, what else did he find funny while he and Dad attended Hogwarts? 'Snivellus' didn't seem like a very endearing name to Harry. Were Sirius and his dad bullies?

Harry hated bullies. He had fallen victim to far too many of them in his life.

Uncle Vernon…Dudley…Piers…Snape.

Snape was a bully to Harry. Had Harry's father and godfather turned him that way?

It was enough to make Harry sick. None of this was his fault. Professor Snape was an adult with authority and he took advantage of it to wreack some petty revenge over events that took place long before Harry was born.

Harry had hated Professor Snape almost from the time they met, and he even had more cause to hate him now…but much to Harry's bloody sense of fair play, he couldn't.

Finding out what his dad and mum had done to Snape had made Harry see his snarky-git of a professor in a whole new light.

Severus Snape was human.

Try though Harry might, and as justified as he would be to do so, he couldn't bring up the old feelings of animosity that had once clung to him and strangled him like Devil's Snare.

Dumbledore said that Harry needed to trust Snape.

Could he?

As early as that morning, Harry would have said no. Harry still didn't like Professor Snape, but he didn't hate him. Maybe it was his first small step in beginning to trust.

Harry made a promise to himself that he would at least try to make a go of this Occlumency. He was willing to try to get along with Snape if his professor promised the same. That was still a big "If."

As Harry continued to wait on Dumbledore, he decided there was one thing he could be thankful for. He could finally fulfil his mother's request and find out what that ruddy phial was all about. Harry wasn't feeling too charitable towards his mum at the moment, but perhaps he could find some answers and Snape could find some closure maybe and…just maybe…find some common ground and a little peace.

A rush of sound filled the air and the sudden change of the light reflecting on the back of the sofa from amber to green, heralded the arrival of Professor Dumbledore.

Harry pushed himself upright, but as he looked up in expectation of greeting the Headmaster, he was caught by surprise by the presence of the last person in the world he expected to see at that moment.

Professor Snape.

Snape stood before him…arms crossed…hard-faced…obsidian eyes glaring...every bit the epitome of the grim professor that Harry had always remembered him to be.

"Are your greetings always this rude, Mr Potter, or did someone fail in their attempt to transfigure you into a codfish?"

Harry hadn't realised he had been gaping at his professor and he shut his jaw with an audible snap.

He jumped up hastily from the couch, pulling at the edges of his tee shirt and smoothing his hands over his denim clad thighs in an effort to get the wrinkles out of his clothing. "Sorry, sir. It was just that I was expecting the Headmaster," he said contritely. "I'll just get my things and we'll be off. They're just there in the corner."

Snape's eyes darted back and forth across the room, as if looking for something he had expected to see, but was not there. "Aren't you neglecting something, Mr Potter?"

Harry looked around, confused. Hedwig…broom…trunk packed with books and clothes. It was all there. What was Snape getting at?

Snape blew out breath as if he was having already to suffer fools. "Apparently, we have to go over your hospitality etiquette. I know Black has the manners of a rabid Crup, but I won't stand for my apprentice to be so ill-mannered. Did you bid farewell to your godfather?" he asked Harry as if he were a five year old.

After the row with his godfather, he just wanted to get the hell out of Grimmauld Place and climb into his bed in Gryffindor Tower. Harry went to the corner and hastily slung his rucksack over his shoulder, mumbling more to himself than speaking to Professor Snape. "I have no interest in saying goodbye to that son-of- a…"

"Potter!"

Harry snapped to attention, "Sir!"

Harry felt like crawling under a rock. He had almost forgotten exactly who was in the room with him.

For a second, Snape looked a bit bewildered, but his dour mask quickly fell back into place. Harry supposed he couldn't blame the man. Here, Harry had nearly called his godfather a most foul name, whilst at the same time calling his most-hated professor 'sir,' twice in almost as many minutes. The world seemed a bit upside-down to Harry too.

"As inclined as I am to agree with your estimation of your godfather, I should be rather put-out to find his face in my Floo at four o'clock in the morning trying to find you," Snape said irritably. "Now, Mr Potter…Where is Black?"

Harry sighed and dropped his rucksack to the floor. He supposed he wasn't going anywhere until he said goodbye to his godfather. "Everybody's downstairs having dinner," Harry said in a huff.

Snape rolled his eyes and grabbed Harry by the bicep. "Well, isn't that just ducky," he groused under his breath. "Let's get this over with, Potter, so I can get you back to the castle and make sure you get something for dinner. I won't be accused of starving you to death, even if your godfather seems inclined to do so."

Like it or not, Harry was forced to follow Snape as his professor pulled him along by the arm. He was just ready to get this over with and get home…to Hogwarts.

Something was amiss at Grimmauld Place…besides the dozen grisly house-elf heads that hung on the walls.

Severus had called Black from his dinner table to say farewell to Potter. It had been a tense parting at best.

It wasn't for Severus that the parting had been unnerving. Severus had always been aware that what Black lacked in intelligence, he more than made up for in stupidity, but it appeared as though Potter had finally become disillusioned with his goddog. No doubt due to Black's speech impediment. He always seemed to have one foot in his mouth.

The entire episode did seem rather subdued to Severus as far as his understanding of Gryffindor sentimentality was concerned. No overly emotional embraces saying 'goodbye.' No maudlin requests to send an Owl…

"I'm going with Professor Snape now," Potter had ascetically informed Black.

Black simply scowled reprovingly at Severus for a moment or two…no surprise there…and bid his precious godson a stony, "Goodbye," before hastily retreating back into the kitchen to join his stunned guests.

If Potter wasn't going to be inclined to hero-worship his sociopathic goddog and his glory-seeking father, Severus may have something to work with.

It appeared that Black may have done something so moronic, that even Potter could not help but see that Black was living proof that a one could carry out all of the rudimentary functions of a human being without the benefit of a spine. If Potter had come to his judgment of Black on his own accord, perhaps he wasn't as imbecilic as Severus had first assumed. Thankfully, Severus was taking Potter away from Grimmauld Place before he really fell victim to Black's second-hand stupidity. Perhaps there was hope for Dumbledore's little scheme after all.

How the boy had become the epitome of grace on a broom, yet could not grasp the basics of simply stepping out of a Floo was beyond Severus.

The trip was so fast, one hardly had the chance to become disoriented, but as if by instinct, Severus reached out and grabbed Potter by the shoulder as they stepped into Dumbledore's office, before the boy had the chance to fall flat on his face and break his nose.

Potter looked appropriately embarrassed as he said, "Thank you, Professor," and dusted himself off.

Severus pressed his lips in irritation at the boy's lack of efficiency, "There's a spell for that, you know," he said snappishly.

"Tergeo."

Potter looked on gawkishly as the Floo dust was siphoned off the boy's clothes. Honestly…One would think the near-fifth-year had never been exposed to Magic in his life.

"I didn't think we could do Magic during the summer," Potter attempted to lamely excuse himself.

"We're in a magical castle, Potter. Who's going to know?"

Wait…Severus had always made it a point to complain about the constant encouragement the Headmaster gave Potter to bend the rules and here Severus was doing the exact same thing. He had actually snapped at Potter for obeying the law.

Severus decided that must research this phenomenon. Perhaps people didn't intend to spoil Potter. Perhaps there was some sort of enchantment on the boy. Severus wouldn't put it past the late-Potter to do such a thing to ensure that his spawn was adequately kept according to his station.

"Not to worry, Severus," the Headmaster's voice had said from out of nowhere. Severus and Potter both looked to see Albus descend the staircase from his private chambers. "Your secret is safe with me, and as long as he is under your watchful eye, I have no problem with Harry practicing his spells in the castle over the summer."

Severus had hoped to avoid the Headmaster. He still had to feed Potter and he was well ready for bed himself.

"Please…sit," the Headmaster said as he offered chairs to both Severus and the boy. "Perhaps some tea?"

Potter accepted the Headmaster's invitation and slouched in one of the offered chairs. The boy did look bone weary and resembled someone who had just emerged on the losing end of a rather gruelling duel rather than someone who had spent a holiday with his friends and godfather.

"Don't get comfortable, Potter," Severus said as he prompted the boy back to his feet. "It's getting late and I will not have you ruining your supper with lemon biscuits and scones."

"I must say that it is heartening to see you taking an interest in Harry's well-being so quickly, Severus."

"I simply have no desire to land in Azkaban for child neglect, Headmaster," Severus said dryly.

"Hey! I'm not a chil…"

"Silence, Potter!" Severus snapped. "It's late, Headmaster and we really must get settled into our chambers," he said only slightly more civilly to Albus.

Potter gave Severus a quizzical looked and mouthed, Our chambers?

Severus said nothing. He simply raised his hand slightly and gave a small shake of his head, indicating to Potter that now was not the time to ask. Much to the boy's credit, he seemed to understand.

"Of course. There is nothing to discuss that cannot wait until later," Albus agreed. "I bid you both good night then."

Harry had a hard time keeping up with Snape's pace on the way down to the dungeons. Harry was really sore and tired…not to mention a bit put-off that he would not be spending his summer living in the tower. He actually hadn't counted on living with the professor. Harry felt as if he had jumped right out of Sirius' frying pan and right into Professor Snape's fire.

Harry didn't have time to ponder on it too long because Professor Snape abruptly stopped and Harry nearly ran right into him.

The Professor didn't say anything…only gave Harry one on his infamous black glares that made him want to run and hide behind an Acromantula.

Show no fear, Harry tried to convince himself. Since first-year, Harry had been convinced that Professor Snape could smell fear in his unsuspecting students and that's when he would STRIKE! That's why poor Neville never stood a chance in Potions.

Harry jumped as Snape abruptly snatched his right hand and inexplicably placed it on the bare stone wall. Harry expected to feel cold, damp, rock, but to his amazement he could feel warmth radiate through the stone, almost as if it were a living thing.

"Feel the indentation under your thumb and index finger?" Snape asked.

Harry nodded, embarrassed that he could hear his audible gulp. "Yes, Sir."

Snape kept Harry's hand held firmly to the stone. His voice was so low, that a chill ran down Harry's spine. "Now repeat after me, Potter… Quiesco Hyacinthus."

Harry repeated the incantation in his head three times before he said it aloud. He gasped as a solid oaken door appeared before him. It was as if it had…opposite of melted… right before his eyes.

"Point your wand at the door, Potter."

Harry followed his Professor's instructions and Snape pointed his wand at the door as well. Snape chanted a complicated string of Latin that Harry could not follow and the door slowly opened and bade them entrance.

Harry mutely followed Professor Snape into his chambers and he could not escape the feeling that he was invading the man's very personal space. The fact that Harry was about to see a side of his Potion's Master that very few had ever been privy to, had not escaped him.

Harry stood almost numbly in the entry of a very unexpected living space. Snape removed his cloak and hung it on a brass tree at the end of the foyer.

Snape suddenly turned to Harry, nailing him into place with his hard eyes. "I have just given you direct access into my personal chambers, Potter. Only the Headmaster is afforded this privilege. You will continue to have this access after term begins and you return to Gryffindor Tower. This is due to the fact that your training will be on-going and you must have access to me if you require. However…should you betray this trust, you will find the consequences of said betrayal to be…most unpleasant. Do I make myself clear, Mr Potter?"

Harry was almost afraid to breathe, but he had to say something. So he said the first words that came to mind. "Crystal…Sir."

Harry's answer seemed to satisfy the Potion's Master as Snape's upper lip twitched slightly as he gave a curt nod before he said, "Good—now follow me."

He led Harry into a small kitchen with a round table and four chairs.

Snape pointed at the table and said, "Sit. Eat."

Harry hesitantly sat at the table, uncertain as what to expect next. He supposed Snape would just serve him a cold sandwich and some clear broth and send Harry off, which was fine with Harry because he hadn't had an appetite for days, but to his amazement that wasn't the case at all.

In front of him popped a plate with Beef Wellington, asparagus, new potatoes, and a glass with a pitcher of cold milk.

The food smelled savoury and wonderful and as tempting as it all looked, Harry wasn't sure his stomach could handle it. He knew The food was far too rich and the portions were much larger than he was accustomed to.

But his usually irritable professor had gone out of his way to make Harry welcome in his home and after the awkward lesson in etiquette that afternoon, Harry knew better than to insult the wizard by refusing his hospitality. Harry swallowed and said a perfunctory, "Thank you, Professor."

Snape just gave a slight nod as a 'you're welcome,' and busied himself at the counter, making a pot of tea.

Harry made of show of eating by picking at his food whilst Snape had his back turned.

The scraping of the professor measuring his tea and the clink of the copper kettle on the granite counter was grating on Harry's nerves and he fished for something to say. "What does it mean? Your password?"

For a fraction of a second, Harry thought he saw Snape's back turn rigid, but when he blinked, the professor looked relaxed again. Harry thought he might of imagined it until Snape said, "It is of no consequence, Potter."

Harry took that to mean, 'It's none of your business,' and he went back to pretending to eat his dinner.

When Snape turned back in Harry's direction and brought the tea to the table, Harry dutifully ate a piece of beef and a small potato. It was delicious, but his insides still felt off by all of the day's emotional stress and he honestly didn't think he could stomach much more.

Harry had the distinct feeling that he was being watched and looked up from his plate to find he was at the receiving end of Snape's scrutinising gaze. Snape continued to sip his tea, unaffected that Harry had caught the professor watching him.

Harry couldn't stand the staring contest anymore and finally asked, "Yes, Sir?"

Snape set down his teacup without taking his gaze from Harry. "What was the matter of your dispute with your godfather today, Potter?"

"It was of no consequence, Professor."

Snape looked as though he was considering Harry's snide answer and perhaps felt that it was justified.

What happened next was completely unexpected by Harry. The professor extended his arm and held out his hand in the direction of a door that led to a small room off of the kitchen. Harry watched in silence as the door opened and a small jar drifted into Snape's outstretched hand.

Harry was taken aback as Snape offered him the ceramic jar. "It's a healing unction," he explained. "Care to tell me what happened to your eye, Mr Potter?

Harry was surprised that Snape hadn't noticed it until now, but this was the first time he had seen Harry in any decent light. The kitchen was unexpectedly bright.

Needing an answer, Harry stuck to his original lie and said, "Garden rake."

"Hmm…a fool couldn't help but notice the animosity between yourself and you godfather today, Potter. Are you certain…"

"No!" Harry said almost too quickly to sound convincing…though it was the actual truth. "I mean, no," he said in a much calmer voice. "Sirius may be acting like a complete arse…sorry, sir…I mean berk…but he would never hit me."

Snape seemed to ponder on Harry's explanation for a moment, probably debating if it were true. Harry didn't relax until he saw the professor's face change when he obviously decided that Harry had spoken the truth.

"Very well then, Potter," Snape said as he touched his serviette to the corner of his lips and placed it on the table. "Finish you supper, then ready for bed. You may read for a half-hour before lights-out. You have a full schedule tomorrow."

Harry pushed away his plate. "I don't think I can eat any more, sir." The professor was giving him that damn appraising stare again and Harry tried to think of a way to change the subject. He came up with the perfect idea since the professor seemed to be in an uncharacteristically generous mood, Harry thought it was a good opportunity to bring up the phial.

"Where are my things sir? There's something in my trunk I need you to see," Potter asked in a deliberate attempt to change the subject.

Severus had taken note of Potter's meagre attempt to eat and that eye was still suspect. No doubt the Weasley matriarch had given the boy a salve, but apparently it was of dubious quality if Potter was still sporting a black eye. Potter seemed adamant that Black was not the culprit so Severus assumed the Potter must have been in a street fight not long before he was whisked away to Headquarters. Severus had not seen Petunia in nearly twenty years, but she was too much of a glory seeker to ever soil the personage of her ridiculously famous nephew.

If Potter's eating habits did not change, Severus would have to address them soon. Learning the Mind Arts took as much physical energy as it did mental energy, and Potter apparently needed all the calories he could get. This was the closest proximity he had ever been to the boy when he wasn't in his school robes and it never occurred to Severus before now that there was something physically off about Potter.

Potter was alarmingly thin and the fact that his clothes were at least three sizes too big made him look that much smaller. Hadn't Black or Lupin taken notice of this fact? They were the ones who supposedly cared for Potter? Did it not concern them that the boy looked like a cross between a hooligan and an urchin from a Dickens' novel. Severus knew the extents some Seekers would go through to keep their weight down so to stay on their team. The diets were misguided and dangerous. Severus knew that Black was dense to the point that light bent around him, but certainly even he wasn't moronic enough to condone such destructive behaviour in a teen. It least Severus hoped not.

Severus wasn't about to be embarrassed by Potter's slovenly and waif-like appearance. His reputation amongst the Order was tenuous at best. He had no intention to give doubters any more fodder to question his integrity. He would see to it that Potter was healthy and well turned-out.

But that was another matter to be addressed later. They were touchy subjects and had to be approached delicately lest Potter shut him out…and that could not happen if there was any hope to Potter learning Occlumency.

Severus doubted that Potter had anything of import to show him. It was undoubtedly a feeble attempt at misdirection. Probably a simple question about his summer Potion's project. But it was something that Severus could take advantage of. He and Potter needed to feel at ease around one another and as much as Severus loathed idle chit-chat, if homework help was what it took to gain Potter's trust then so be it.

Severus had only failed at two things in his entire life. He would be Damned if failing to teaching Potter Occlumency would be his third.

"Your things have been taken to your bedchamber down the hall," Snape said in a tone he was certain was equitable enough, "But you may summon what you need from here."

Severus noticed that Potter seemed quite on edge for asking about his Potion's project. He could see beads of sweat run down the boy's cheek. Potter pointed his wand in the direction of the corridor and scarcely whispered, "Accio, Mum's gift."

Severus thought his heart stopped…but it couldn't have because he was still alive.

Lily had bequeathed something to Potter and Potter was turning to Severus for answers. For the first time since Lily's death, Severus felt numb. What did she give Potter and what could it possibly have to do with Severus? Severus couldn't begin to fathom the implications.

Severus' eyes searched the corridor until it caught sight of a tiny object floating out of Potter's bedchamber and into the sitting room. It bobbled through the air and finally entered the kitchen and laid to rest in Potter's hand.

Potter gave it one last glance, as if he were debating whether or not to hand it to Severus. Potter seemed almost to choke on his own air when he tentatively reached across the table and offered the phial to Severus.

"Please, sir…if you would…Could you tell me what this is?"

Severus reached out, and with his long, thin fingers, reverently took the phial from Potter's hand. He too, could scarcely find his voice when he said, "This, Potter…is a memory."

Severus was so lost in his own disjointed musings, that he almost did not hear Potter say, "A memory…Mum sent me a memory?"

Severus knew how Potter felt. There was no greater gift a departed loved-one could leave behind. Severus could feel a stab of jealousy well up in his heart.

"How...how can I see it?" the boy asked

Severus gazed at the silvery substance within the phial. Perhaps hoping beyond hope that if he stared long enough, he could see his Lily.

Suddenly realising that the boy was still there and had asked a question, Severus snapped out of his own memories and raised his Occlumency shields before Potter began to suspect too much.

Now void of his run-away emotions, Severus stoically handed the phial back to Potter.

"Take this phial to the Headmaster tomorrow. He has a Pensieve in which to view it."

"Thank you, Sir," Potter said as he took back his phial. Severus idly wondered if the boy realised he was holding it to his chest.

"Sir," Potter said meekly, "Mum wanted you to see this too. She said in her letter that you deserved some answers."

It was enough to where Severus' shields collapsed momentarily, and he caught a sharp breath before he raised them again.

Potter looked as though he were going to be ill. "Sir, where's the loo?"

"You have facilities in your bedchamber. Down the hall, last door on the right." Severus could hear his voice, so he knew his lips were moving, but the rest of his body felt immobile as stone.

"Thank you again, Sir…for everything."

Severus sat there, still motionless as Potter slowly made for his room.

Lily had a message for him from beyond the grave that she had sent through her son. He wondered how on earth he was ever going to survive this night.