It was Monday night, and it was five minutes to seven - the time when Draco was supposed to show up for his detention. Severus had explained to Harry that Draco would be coming by that night, but that Draco had to deal with some school issues that night with his head of house. Hermione was coming over again that night, Severus had heard from Draco.

It was after the boys had come down from their flying that Draco casually mentioned it to Severus that Hermione was planning on seeing Harry in two days' time. Thank goodness Draco had done it outside of Harry's hearing though!

"The mudblood - Granger - said she'd be coming by on Monday," Draco said.

"Draco," Severus hissed at him, "you would do well to keep your feelings on blood purity to yourself." Draco looked a bit taken aback.

"Yes, sir," he said, hesitatntly, almost like a question. Severus sighed. He supposed that he had better explain himself a bit more to Draco.

"Just don't call her that in anyone's hearing," Severus hissed again. "Including Harry's. Whether or not you or I approve of her blood purity, she is a fine example of a Ravenclaw, and I don't need Harry trying to gather much needed friends based on that criteria. He can learn about purity later. Right now, she will do him more good than harm. So I request that you not put her down or call her - that name - in front of Harry." It wasn't that Severus was really judgmental of Hermione because she was a muggle-born - the love of his life had been a muggle-born - but he had to wear his mask that he did look down upon it. And he still couldn't bring himself to say that word. Mudblood. Not after he had called Lily that in a fit of anger and stress had he been able to bring himself to say it.

"Alright, Uncle Severus," Draco agreed.

Well, Hermione, being the Ravenclaw she was, had remembered that he had asked her to make Monday "her day" to see Harry, and she had presumed that she was expected tonight as well. Thankfully, she had made no secret of this, and so Draco knew her plans for the night. She had just come by, actually, and Severus had let her in, and she and Harry were playing Exploding Snap again.

Ah, there was a knock on Severus' office door. He rose, and answered it. There stood Draco, contrite, head bowed. Severus wondered just how much of that was sincere and how much was an act. Wordlessly, Severus stepped aside, and Draco went to the chair in front of his desk, and sat down, watching Severus anxiously. Severus, in turn, sat down behind his desk and laced his fingers as he rested his elbows on the top of it.

"Mister Malfoy," he began, and Draco screwed up the expression on his face at the sound of such a formal address. "I am going to ask you some questions and I expect you to answer them directly and honestly."

"Yes, sir," Draco mumbled, not even thinking of calling him Uncle Severus right now.

"Why were you not heading to Transfiguration on Friday?" Draco swallowed uncomfortably.

"Because I was wondering in the halls, sir," Draco said.

"Obviously," Severus drawled at him. There was no reason to hold back any sarcasm at this point. Draco could take it, and Severus was sure that there were things at work which even Draco didn't understand. "Harry wasn't in a well-traveled hallway. Which would mean that neither were you. I don't believe in chance meetings. Do you take me for stupid?"

"No, sir," Draco said quickly.

"Then why were you where ever you were?"

"Because of the mirror," Draco blurted suddenly. Severus was quiet a minute.

"What mirror?" he asked quietly.

"In the hallway!" Draco continued babbling. "It shows you wonderful and terrible things. It shows you what you want." Severus leaned back into his seat, and pinched the bridge of his nose. The Mirror of Erised. That fool. What was Dumbledore thinking now, leaving that thing around the school?

"And you've been looking at it, I take it?" he drawled.

"Yes, sir," Draco said, hanging his head.

"Do not look at it ever again," Severus growled, pronouncing every word distinctly. "Better wizards than you have wasted their lives in front of that infernal device. Never go back there. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir," Draco mumbled. He, Severus, had seen the mirror, and he had seen Lily's happy face. He'd seen her wave at him and silently say his name. Oh, did that memory sting. He wanted to just watch the mirror for the rest of eternity, letting himself bask in the gaze of his Lily - the Lily he'd never had. He knew at the time that doing such would kill him. The grief and the desire would have stopped his heart, he was sure, yet he knew the power the mirror had at luring its victims. He believed that if it wasn't for his Occlemency, he would have been lost to the spell of the mirror. The stronger the desire, the stronger the spell laid its hold.

"Did Harry see it?" he asked suddenly.

"Yes, sir," Draco replied.

"What did he see?" Severus asked, suddenly very concerned. Harry's desires were strong, and if he had seen the mirror as Draco said, the damage might already be done.

"He said that he saw his mom and dad, you, and all of us." Severus nodded. Undoubtedly the vision had simply been that he was cared for and loved. That was all Harry wanted after all.

"I see," Severus said. He wished Harry had trusted him with the information of the mirror before this. He wasn't sure how to interpret Harry's silence on the matter. Surely a magic mirror would make someone like Harry want to say something about it? But perhaps Harry thought it was a forbidden dream, to be loved? Or perhaps he had liked the mirror, and felt guilty that he could have liked anything that had happened that day. "Write me an essay, two feet in length, on the dangers of focusing on your desires so much that you forget to live and make those desires real."

"Yes, sir," Draco said, reaching into his bag and pulling out a quill and parchment.

"Begin."

.oO-Oo.

"Harry," Professor Snape said, sitting on the couch after Draco and Hermione had left. Harry was standing in front of Professor Snape, and he began wringing his hands nervously. The tone Professor Snape used - it didn't bode well. He wanted to talk about something, and whatever something this was, it wasn't pleasant. Professor Snape was silent for a moment, as though gathering his thoughts.

"There was," he began, pausing awkwardly in the middle of the sentence, "a mirror in the hallway on Friday, was there not?" Harry gasped quietly in surprise. How had Professor Snape known? Well, the man knew lots of things, and most of them, Harry couldn't begin to fathom how he had found out.

"Yes, sir," Harry said, nervously. He had learned his lesson about lying to Professor Snape. It just didn't work, and he had better not try that again.

"I don't want you ever to look at that mirror again," Professor Snape said.

"Why, sir?"

"Because the mirror will make you a slave to its spell and you will waste away in front of it, forgetting to live."

"Sir?"

"It shows you want you want to see," Professor Snape explained. "And you need to try to make what you see come true. You need to try to make it real, and not be satisfied seeing it in a glass."

"Yes, sir," Harry said contritely.

"Do you understand?" Professor Snape continued.

"Yes, sir."

"Then explain what I just said."

"That - that the mirror shows me what I want."

"And?"

"And that I shouldn't sit in front of it."

"Because?"

"Because I'll waste my life."

"And what are you supposed to do instead?" Harry winced at this question.

"You want me to make what I want come true," he muttered, staring at his feet, as he kicked at the pebble that wasn't there.

"Yes, exactly," Professor Snape said, not unkindly. Harry took in a shuttering breath. "What's wrong?" Professor Snape asked. Harry just shook his mop of hair into his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he muttered.

"What's wrong?" Professor Snape asked again. "Come sit down." Harry did as instructed, and sat rigidly on the edge of the couch. His stress levels were high, yes, but Professor Snape didn't know why. And for that, Harry was glad. He didn't want Professor Snape to know more than he had to. "Tell me what's wrong," Professor Snape continued, his voice low, but commanding.

"What if - " Harry began, "what if things I want conflict?"

"How so?"

"I - I don't know how to explain."

"Tell me what it is you want, and why the things conflict." Harry swallowed, and began to stammer. "Relax," Professor Snape's voice cut through his panic. "Breathe. Tell me the first thing you want."

"Hermione," Harry gasped. "I - I like her. She's special."

"Alright," Professor Snape coaxed. "So you like her. What is it you want, though?"

"I want her to - well, to like me too." Professor Snape nodded thoughtfully.

"Now, what is the other thing you want?"

"I want Hermione to be happy," Harry said with half a sob.

"Ah," Professor Snape said. "Here we come to the crux of the matter." Professor Snape put his hand over his mouth thoughtfully. "How is it that these two desires conflict?" Couldn't Professor Snape see? Hermione couldn't both like him, at least, not in a special way, and still be happy! But he knew that Professor Snape would try to tell him that that wasn't true - that he was good enough for Hermione to like him and be happy. What could he say?

"Why would she ever like me?" he muttered bitterly.

"Why would she not?"

"There's others," Harry shrugged.

"Harry," Professor Snape said in his long-suffering way, "maybe she doesn't want the others. Maybe she does, maybe she doesn't. Who are you to know her mind?" Here comes the lecture, Harry thought. He'd get to hear another speech about how he was worth various things, how he was good, and how he was loved. It was all a very nice lecture, except that Harry didn't quite believe it. Yes, he would love to, and there was a little voice that told him that perhaps it was correct. But the louder voice of doubt drowned it out. So he simply shrugged in response.

"I don't know, sir," he said after a moment of silence. "But how can I know how she feels?"

"You could ask her," Professor Snape said, "but sometimes that's not always the best course of action. She came here tonight on her own, didn't she? That's got to be a good sign, don't you think?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said. "Should I ask her?"

"Probably not quite yet. What do you talk about when she's here?"

"Nothing really," Harry said after a moment. "We just...play cards."

"Maybe you should talk to her a little bit. Maybe if you just talk about things, something will happen. Worth a try?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said. "What sort of things could we talk about?"

"Anything," Professor Snape responded. "You can talk about anything you like."

"What if - what if she starts asking - questions?"

"Then you can answer them," he said, mussing Harry's mop. "More seriously, I'm sure Hermione will respect any boundaries you wish to set. If you don't want to answer a question, simply say so. But I am confident she won't reject you for your past abuse, if that's what you're worried about."

"How can you be sure?" Professor Snape was quiet a moment, as if caught in some memory.

"Because," he began slowly, "there was a girl - a special girl - who didn't reject me, and her name was Lily." Harry nodded, and instinctively knew the conversation had ended.

.oO-Oo.

Oh dear. The child had his first crush. This could prove complicated - and awkward - but it could also be something that Harry desperately needed. Someone he felt he needed to care for. That protective instinct perhaps could be awoken in him. Perhaps Hermione could cause him to heal.

He was especially glad now that he had instructed Draco not insult Hermione's blood status. One thing Harry didn't need was to feel conflicted between having to choose Draco or Hermione. One, a friend he so desperately needed, one who would stand by him no matter what, the other, his first crush, even if Severus wasn't ready to call it love. He remembered a boy a generation ago who was faced with the exact same choice, and that boy had chosen wrong. He didn't want to see Harry put in the same position.

.oO-Oo.

As the days melted in the weeks, and the weeks became months, Harry's progress became more apparent. His brewing skills were excellent, and he was a genius in herbology. The only hang up in his school was the lack of magic that Harry showed. Still, every night, Severus made Harry meditate in an attempt to regain his magic. Severus knew it was there. Harry just needed to find a way to access it.

Each of Harry's friends came regularly on their appointed night to visit him. Harry became more relaxed and accepting among them. There was certainly a unique relationship growing with each of them. Hermione was the boy's first crush, Neville caused Harry to talk, even if Harry hadn't confided anything to him yet, Ron and Harry played games, but hadn't really gotten to know each other, and Draco knew everything. And that was what Severus credited to Draco seeming to be Harry's closest friend.

The Death Eaters had been especially quiet lately, Severus had observed. No meetings had been called in all those weeks, and every day he rose with the fear that that day would be the day. He knew Harry would be a mess after any involvement with the Death Eaters - as anyone should be. The only hope Severus had was that he might be able to make enough progress with Harry that he wouldn't loose too much ground by exposing him to those who wanted him dead.

And finally, there had been no progress on the Dursley's trial. Severus suspected that Dumbledore had his hand in it. As long as Dumbledore could delay the trial, the longer it would be till he himself was exposed. As much as Severus was furious at the man, as much as he hated him for what he had done, Severus couldn't think of anyone else he would rather have for a leader. It wasn't that he defended or supported Dumbledore - quite the opposite - but did anyone else have what it took to manage the Order and defeat the Dark Lord?

Halloween was nearing, and along with its coming, came the general excitement among the students, looking forward to the festivities. Naturally, Harry's friends began to chatter to him about the feast and celebrations. Finally, one day, Draco invited Harry along with him to celebrate Halloween.

"Hey, Harry," Draco said, "want to come to the Great Hall with me on Halloween?"

"The Great Hall?" Harry asked, taken aback.

"Yeah, where the Sorting Feast was, remember?"

"Yeah," Harry acknowledged neutrally.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Draco suddenly backpedaled. He hadn't meant to suggest something that Harry that he didn't want to do. Draco didn't want Harry to feel that he had to do it in order to be friends. "Really, it's fine if you don't want to. But if you do want to, you can come with me."

"You - you wouldn't mind?" Harry asked hesitatingly.

"Nope," Draco assured him, not knowing what it was Harry was asking about him minding - coming, or not coming - but either way, Draco surely didn't mind.

"Well," Harry began, and then seemed to choke on his words, "if you really don't mind me coming with you - "

"I don't."

"Then, I guess - " Harry shrugged nervously. This was what Professor Snape had told him to do, right? Figure out what he wanted, and then try to make it happen.

"You want to come?" Draco prompted.

"Yes," Harry said, gasping a little bit at the startling revelation that he was expressing something he wanted.

"Wonderful!" Draco exclaimed. "You can sit at the Slytherin table with the rest of us then. You'll probably get a chance to see Hermione too." Draco said it with a little wink. He knew Harry liked her, and while he didn't particularly approve of Hermione's blood status, he did understand Severus' warning to him, and he was intent on keeping his word that he would not insult Hermione - for Harry's sake.

Harry blushed a deep crimson, and Draco tried not to smirk at him. But Draco was failing miserably.

"I'll be by on Halloween then and we can go together," Draco said, still trying to suppress his grin.

"Yeah, good," Harry said, still blushing, but he had the standard crooked half grin that love-smitten boys sometimes get.

.oO-Oo.

And so Halloween came. Severus had been hesitant about letting Harry go back to the Great Hall, but Draco had begged and pleaded. Finally, the thing that had changed Severus' mind on the matter was that Draco said that Harry had told him that he wanted to go. If Harry had expressed a preference on something - anything - Severus wanted to see to it that it came true, at least as much as was possible.

So while Draco and Harry headed through the corridors to the Great Hall, Severus was at the head table with the other professors that night. Harry knew that he would be there, and he hoped that it would serve as something of a comfort to Harry to know that he could intervene at any point should anything get out of hand.

Ah, there the two little imps were, Severus thought as he saw the doors of the Great Hall open. Draco was taking the lead, as he expected, and snickering to Harry over some private joke. Severus saw that they successfully made their way to the Slytherin table and sat down. Harry was looking around anxiously, but Severus notice his gaze linger on the Ravenclaw table several times.

.oO-Oo.

"Where's Hermione?" Harry whispered to Draco. He'd never confirmed or denied Draco's subtle accusation, not in so many words, but with everything else Draco knew, would it be so terrible for him to go on suspecting that?

"I don't know," Draco whispered in return. "I thought she was coming. I don't really know though. I don't talk to her that much."

"Oh," Harry said, still casting frequent glances at the Ravenclaws and the door. Quietly, Draco began to ask about Granger's whereabouts for Harry's sake. After asking a few of the more observant Slytherins, he was told that she was in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, crying about something.

"I'm sure she'll be along," Draco said after explaining it to Harry. In a few minutes, the feast had begun, and suddenly, the doors burst open, revealing the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Quirrel.

"Th-there's a t-troll in the d-d-dungeons," he shouted, stammer and all, and then fainted. Everyone began to whisper, talk, scream, and yell at the same time.

"A troll?" Harry hissed at Draco.

"Yeah," Draco said, the shock apparently in his voice.

"A - troll?" Harry repeated.

"Everyone, return to your dormitories!" Dumbledore's voice called out above the general commotion.

"Absolutely not!" Professor Snape shouted back at him. "My Slytherins will stay right here. If the troll is the dungeons, do you really expect them to go to to the dungeons to get to their dormitories?" Then turning to his house, he said, "If you value your lives, you will stay right here." He locked gazes with Harry, but Harry couldn't read what he was trying to silently say to him. Quickly and efficiently, though, the professors scrambled to deal with the intrusion. In a matter of two minutes, there wasn't a professor in sight, but the other houses were still filing out of the Great Hall.

"Hermione," Harry hissed in Draco's ear. "She doesn't know about the troll!" Draco froze and measured Harry's desperation for a moment.

"You're right," he said after a pause. Harry truly was desperate. "I'll go save her." Draco didn't want to risk anything to save Granger, but he did care about Harry, and Harry in turn cared about Hermione. So indirectly, he had to save her to save Harry.

"But - but - " Harry stammered. "I can do it. You should stay here." Draco snorted.

"No, you're staying put. You have any idea how much trouble I'd be in with Professor Snape for taking you into danger?" Harry narrowed his eyes.

"Alright," he agreed, a bit too quickly for Draco's liking. He wrote it off to simply doing as instructed. Maybe Harry thought if he got him in trouble, then he, Draco, wouldn't want to be friends with Harry anymore. Not that that was true in this case, but that was still what Draco thought. So quietly, Draco slipped into the crowd of Hufflepuffs, who were all too scared to notice a Slytherin among them.

Momentarily, Draco found himself in the corridor outside the Great Hall, and he took off in the direction of the girl's bathroom. He glanced over his shoulder, though, and stopped dead in his tracks.

"Harry!" he hissed. "Get back to the Great Hall now!"

"But you shouldn't be here doing this. It should be me." Harry was almost in tears, begging to be the one to save Hermione.

"Why?" Draco asked, truly confused. Why would Harry want to be the one to risk Professor Snape's anger?

"You're gonna die!" Harry sobbed out, unable to hold some of the tears back. "It's a troll! You can't win, can you?"

"Well - " Draco began and cut off. So that was it, was it? Harry was willing to risk Professor Snape's wrath because he didn't believe he'd have to face it. Because he didn't believe he would come back alive. Draco hesitated. "Look, I won't die, and neither will you. The troll's in the dungeons, remember? We're headed to the third floor."

"But it's better me than you taking that risk!"

"I'm not going to have this argument here," Draco said through clenched teeth. "Are you going to go back or not?" Harry looked hesitant for a moment, but then shook his head. "Blasted Gryffindor," Draco muttered under his breath, too low for Harry to hear. "Fine," he said, "come on. And stay behind me. If you're killed, then I'm as good as dead myself. Professor Snape would see to it himself!" He shot Harry a small smile, but pressed on down the corridor, now running, with Harry scrambling to keep up.

Finally, they got to the bathrooms. Draco started to say something, but Harry shushed him, as he strained to listen.

"I hear her," Harry whispered.

"Then let's go get her and tell her to go to the dorms," Draco said. "Maybe we can get back to the Great Hall before we're missed." So together they ducked into the bathroom.

"Hermione!" Harry called softly when they were in the bathroom.

"Go away!" she sniffed at them from inside a stall. Harry looked taken aback, like he didn't know what to do.

"There's a troll loose in the school," Draco began. "And the Ravenclaws were sent to their dorms, and you weren't there to hear!"

"Oh," Hermione choked.

"Um...Draco..." Harry stammered as he tugged at Draco's robe sleeve. "Don't look now but - " Draco looked over his shoulder cautiously. There stood the troll, looming in the doorway, pinning them into the bathroom. Hermione screamed as she left the stall she had been crying in.

"Get behind me," Draco said, taking the lead, and drawing his wand. He aimed it at the troll, trying to look as threatening as possible. But no matter how he tried, an eleven year old first year just wasn't all that scary. The troll just stepped forward. Hermione drew her wand as well.

"You have a wand?" she asked Harry quickly.

"No," Harry said, eyes wide, unsure what to do. The troll raised the club he was carrying, and aimed it at Draco's blonde head. Draco froze. Why couldn't he think of a single spell? Hermione let out another scream, and Harry pushed Draco out of the way of the club as it came crashing down. The both of them landed on the floor right next to where the club now lay.

"Thanks," Draco gasped, but the troll had dislodged the club and was preparing for another strike.

"Flores!" screamed one voice, a female voice, from the other side of the troll.

"Stupefy!" screamed another male voice, also from the other side of the troll, at the same time as the woman. Then two things happened. The troll's club turned into a bouquet of roses, and the troll fell forward. As the dust settled, Hermione, Draco, and Harry saw to figures step over the troll.

"What in the name of Merlin have you been doing?" Minerva McGonagall fairly screeched at them. "Miss Granger, why aren't you in your dormitory? Mr. Malfoy, and - Mr. Potter - why aren't you in the Great Hall?" Her voice took a turn for the softer once she had spotted Harry.

"I believe I can take care of my Slytherins, Minerva," Severus Snape interrupted. "As for Miss Granger, why are you here?"

"I - I was just - " She met Professor Snape's eyes, and seemed to have gotten lost in the penetrating gaze.

"Well?" he prompted. She mumbled something as she looked at the ground.

"What was that?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"I was crying, ma'am," she repeated.

"It would have been a lot safer to cry in your common room," Professor Snape commented.

"She didn't know about the troll," Harry cut in. "She wasn't in the Great Hall." Professor Snape's eyes narrowed as he looked at Harry.

"Twenty points from Slytherin, and ten from Ravenclaw," Professor Snape said. "None of you were supposed to be here, and you very nearly got yourselves all killed! What do you think you were doing? What were you thinking? You could all be three cold corpses on the ground here - and you would be, if we hadn't heard Miss Granger scream."

"But we wouldn't be cold," Hermione pointed out. "The body heat wouldn't have dissipated yet - "

"Five points for arguing with a Professor," McGonagall interrupted. Hermione shut her mouth and looked abashed.

"The point isn't the temperature of your bodies," Professor Snape continued ranting. "You could all be injured or dead! I told you to stay in the Great Hall!" As he stopped for breath, he noticed Harry's face. Harry's face betrayed the combination of fear and horror that was running through his head. He had deliberately disobeyed Professor Snape and had been caught, and he had no idea what would happen to him or his friends now.

"I'm sorry," he blurted. "It was my fault. I asked Draco about looking for Hermione, and I went to go look for her. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Harry put his face into his hands, and began to shake so hard that Draco took him by the shoulders - ignoring the involuntary shutter - and helped him to the ground so that he wouldn't fall. Discreetly, Draco shot Professor Snape a venomous look. He could get away with it, Draco thought, as long as no one but Professor Snape saw it.

.oO-Oo.

Suddenly feeling quite stupid, Severus saw what he had done.

"Minerva," he said quietly, "take Miss Granger and leave. Have someone clean up the troll in a few minutes." It was the closest he could come to a polite request at the moment. He wanted to kick himself in the backside. How, how could he have lost it like that? Well, he had been scared - unlike he had been scared since Lily's life was threatened. And his defense mechanism to deal with fear was to lash out.

"Alright, Severus," she replied, turned, and glancing back to make sure Hermione was following, they left the bathroom. That left Draco, Harry and Severus. Harry was kneeling on the stone floor, sitting on his heels, sobbing into his hands, as Draco crouched beside him, awkwardly trying to offer comfort. Now, more openly, Draco sneered at him.

"That's enough, Draco," he barked. Draco had made his point, a valid one, but there was no more reason for it. "I'll deal with you later. In my office. Wait for me."

"Yes, sir," Draco said, giving Harry's shoulder one last squeeze. Severus waited until Draco was gone before he knelt on his heels in front of Harry. His crying had quieted - well, it was always quiet - but it had slowed, probably because he wanted to know what Severus was doing. When he would be hit. Or worse.

"Harry," Severus sighed, "I'm sorry." Harry shook his head, but didn't respond, and didn't take his hands away from his face. "I'm sorry," he repeated, with the emphasis on sorry. "But you could have been killed, you know that, Harry?" Harry nodded. "Look at me," Severus sighed. Obediently, Harry took his hands away from his face and met Severus' gaze. "You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, sir," Harry choked out.

"I'm sorry for scolding you, but you scared me," he continued. "I was scared that you'd already been killed. You and Draco were laying on the ground. What if you - or Draco, for that matter - had died? But especially you. I thought you could have been dead."

"I'm sorry," was all Harry could say as he let out one last sob.

"Don't ever risk your life like that again," Severus admonished. He reached out and helped Harry to his feet. Drawing him close, Severus embraced Harry. Harry didn't return it, but rather tried to curl in on himself if such a thing were possible to limit the amount of contact.

"I won't hurt you, I promise," Severus said. "I want you to write an essay for me, but I won't punish you in any other way. Do you understand?" There was no response from Harry. "Do you understand?" he repeated, softer this time.

"Yes, sir," Harry muttered miserably into Severus' robes. "I'm sorry I disappointed you."

"You should have stayed in the Great Hall like I said," Severus continued, "but what you did was selfless. Stupidly selfless, but still. You could have asked a teacher about it, you know. Or a prefect. You don't have to solve everything yourself."

"Yes, sir," Harry muttered again.

"Tonight, ten years ago, I lost your mother. You lost both your parents. I couldn't bear to lose you now too, on that anniversary. Come. There's something I want you to see." Wordlessly, Harry followed Severus to the dungeons. Still not exchanging any words, Severus summoned two large objects. He laid them out on Harry's nightstand. They were two large candles.

"In memoriam, Lily Potter," he muttered as he wordlessly lit the first candle with his wand. "In memoriam, James Potter." He lit the second. "These are for you, as a memorial to your parents. I light one every year for your mother. It sickens me that everyone rejoices for the defeat of the Dark Lord that night, but forgets the cost."

"Thank you, sir," Harry said, obviously feeling overwhelmed and sitting on the floor, watching the candles burn. They stayed that way for untold minutes, Harry watching the candles, and Severus watching Harry.

"It's time you go to sleep," Severus said, breaking the almost magical moment.

"Yes, sir," Harry said, without argument. He took off his Slytherin scarf.

"I promise I will not beat you," Severus began. "The only consequences will be an essay tomorrow on asking a superior for help, and detailing what could have happened tonight. Nothing more. I promise." Then, after muttering a quiet summoning charm, "Here's a dreamless sleep potion. Heaven knows you should be exhausted, but this will make you sleep soundly." Harry drank the offered potion, and crawled into bed.

"Good night, Harry," Severus said from the doorway.

"Good night, Professor," Harry mumbled back.

"At least you're here to have a good night," Severus whispered, too quietly for Harry to hear.

.oO-Oo.

"What in Merlin's name were you thinking?" Severus hissed at Draco, who winced at the words.

"I don't know, sir," Draco answered automatically.

"That's not an answer!"

"Harry likes Granger!" Draco snapped back. "He was going to go off without anyone, and I tried to go instead, and he followed me! I couldn't send him back and I couldn't take him back."

"Why didn't you go to a prefect? Why do you think we have prefects?"

"I didn't think of it, sir," Draco said.

"You - didn't - think. That's about it. You and Harry could both be dead, you know that, don't you?"

"Yes, sir," Draco said.

"Three feet on going to a superior with your problems, and not risking your life. During detention tomorrow night. Seven o'clock, my office."

"Yes, sir."

"Dismissed."

.oO-Oo.

Severus went to his bedroom, and set a candle on his nightstand, not unlike he had done for Harry. Aligning his wand, he wordlessly light the candle.

"In memoriam, Lily Potter."