Harry and Snape Apparated to Hogsmeade and continued by foot towards the castle. As they approached, Harry spotted a febrile activity along the ramparts that still lay in ruins. Seemingly docile trolls lifted big stone blocks in place, guided by goblins who cemented the upcoming walls with a silvery paste that glowed then tarnished to become the same colour as the stone. An old goblin clad in green met with them to have a word with Snape. Harry understood from their conversation that the stone blocks had at last been delivered the day before, by dragon transport and that Snape was satisfied with the goblins’ efficient repairs.

“It won’t be ready when the pupils arrive, but in another week or so... We’ll see what the Ministry’s head of security has to say about it. She’s waiting for me right now if I’m not mistaken. But you take your time - I want no rush work done. These ramparts are to stand for several centuries,” said Snape. They passed the trolls and entered the grounds of Hogwarts.

To the left, the beautiful hillside sloped gently towards the glittering lake and on the right, near the boundaries of the Forbidden Forest, Harry caught sight of Hagrid’s cottage. Smoke swirled up from the chimney and the vegetable patch looked flourishing and well cared for. Harry’s heart missed a beat as he realised there was a chance of him meeting his good friend, and he looked eagerly but in vain for the half-giant. Instead, he spotted a small group of people gathered in front of the grand portal that led into the castle. He recognised two of them for being Aurors, but did not remember their names. There was also a tall witch dressed in black, and a young man who moved about restlessly. Snape raised his hand in greeting and they were just within speaking range when the portal opened and Professor McGonagall stepped out.

“There you are, Headmaster, we were just beginning to wonder,” she said officiously to Snape before she saw Harry and froze for a fraction of time. “Harry Potter!” she exclaimed and proceeded precipitately towards him. The other four turned their heads with curiosity in their eyes.

“My dear boy!” She took his right hand in hers and looked at him with moist eyes. “It’s so good to see you!”

Harry was affected by her warm greeting. He had always liked the strict professor who had been his head of house for six years. Last time he had seen her was when he and Mme Pomfrey healed a battle wound in her right arm.

“Hello, Professor McGonagall, I’m happy to see you too,” he said in a muffled voice. “How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you, Harry. Quite restored. But you look so thin!” she exclaimed and scrutinised him. “We’ve all had to face the losses and the difficult reminiscing... Have you been having a hard time? Professor Snape told me...”

“Minerva,” Snape called out warningly. Harry was glad Snape stopped her because for one thing the motherly concern of Professor McGonagall made him ready to cry. Secondly he was made uneasy by the covetous gazes of the fidgeting young man, and embarrassed by the puzzled look in the witch’s eyes. Harry tried to compose himself.

”I’m okay, Professor,” he lied.

“I invited Mr Potter to Hogwarts today as there are things I need to go through with him before the term starts,” said Snape in an authoritative voice. “Let me introduce you, Mr Potter,” he continued, “...to the new head of the Auror Office, Mrs Audrey Steadfast.”

The black-clad witch approached calmly. She had a long neck and broad shoulders but was otherwise slender. It gave her a slightly lanky appearance, like an overgrown adolescent. She was clearly in her late thirties or early forties though – same age as Snape, approximately. Her face had regular, pleasant features and her hair was short and curly in a dark brown colour.

“I’m known as “Steady” to my co-workers,” said Mrs Steadfast with a slight bow. “Nice to meet you, Mr Potter.” Harry shook her hand and met the warm brown eyes. The studying gaze she bestowed on him was not far from the scrutinising looks Harry had suffered from Dumbledore at times, and it certainly lived up to her nickname. He tried not to shrink back and held her gaze.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs Steadfast,” he said.

“My Aurors - Mr Alan Soundy and Mr Emile Simmings.” Mrs Steadfast turned efficiently to the two men, one of them middle-aged and stout, with an inscrutable countenance, the other in his late twenties with an open face, fair-haired and slim. They shook hands with Harry.

“And Mr Bellamy Burgess,” she added and turned to the eager young man who could only be a couple of years older than Harry. He had fair but not blond hair and a square chin in an otherwise thin face.

“I’m delighted to meet you Mr Potter! I’ve heard so much about you. It’s such an honour!” the young man said effusively. The hand he stretched out trembled slightly when Harry shook it.

“Mr Burgess has done two years at the Auror training program,” Mrs Steadfast proceeded, now addressing Snape. “Unfortunately he suffered an injury in his leg at the end of last term that has not healed as expected and he needs a break from the physically demanding training program this year. He’s the young man I mentioned to you, Professor Snape, for the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. A temporary appointment of course, but I had the impression you had difficulties finding applicants.”

“Ah, yes, we’ll have a word then. Nice to meet you,” said Snape as he shook hands with Mr Burgess, who smiled and smirked and was on the verge of saying something to Snape when they were interrupted by a howl.

“’Arry!” Hagrid called enthusiastically coming down from his cottage. Harry cast an apologetic look at the others but could not help his face from breaking up into a broad smile as he darted off to meet his friend. Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall started to usher the Aurors and the teacher applicant inside the castle. Mrs Steadfast was posted beside Snape and looked at a distance at the half-giant keeper of Hogwarts who hugged Harry several times and lifted him from the ground. “I carried you in my arms!” they heard him bellow. They saw him blow his nose in an enormous towel-like handkerchief. Harry was padding his eyes as well.

“An emotional young man,” said Mrs Steadfast in a tone that might be either a question or a statement.

“Who? Him?” said Snape looking from Harry to Mr Burgess who just passed the threshold into the castle.

“Oh, Mr Burgess is just a bit nervous,” Mrs Steadfast waved her hand dismissively. “No, I was talking of your young man here.”

“I’d say he’s impulsive and yes, emotional,” said Snape with a streak of disdain in his voice, “...but this may not be a representative time for assessing his characteristics. It’s the first time he returns to the site where it all happened.”

“It’s good of you to prepare him before the term starts,” responded Mrs Steadfast. “I would not have thought you overly considerate of psychological processes, Professor,” she added with a mocking undertone.

Snape glowered at her and called out with some impatience for Harry, subsequent to what they entered the castle followed by Hagrid.

“I need to help Mr Potter get started on ... er... on a certain project. I will ask you, Mrs Steadfast, to go on without me and I’ll join you as soon as I can. Hagrid will guide you. As I’ve pointed out before, I believe it to be a difficult, if not an impossible task to search the entire Forbidden Forest. There are areas that are inaccessible even to our ground keeper,” began Snape.

“It still needs to be done. We cannot pretend to have control over security if we have not at least acquainted ourselves with the neighbouring grounds,” replied Mrs Steadfast.

“Search the Forbidden Forest? What for?” Harry could not prevent himself from asking.

“After the death of Voldemort,” Mrs Steadfast answered forthcoming, “...I’m afraid things have not calmed down as you would have expected. On the contrary, different criminal groups are popping up, who either used to work together with Voldemort or were hiding from him last year, but who see their chance now. There are also a bunch of traditional Death Eaters left on the loose who we believe will want to use the infrastructure left by Voldemort to come in control of these criminal gangs. They all want revenge on those who threw the reign of Voldemort over. We reckon they are highly motivated by the symbolical gain of killing those people. It would, so to speak, demonstrate who’s in charge. And the persons most at risk - I’m sure you realise, Mr Potter - would be the heros of the war, that is to say yourself and the Minister of Magic, Mr Kingsley Shacklebolt together with the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Professor Snape, and then a couple of others - persons who are traitors in these people’s eyes. Incidentally, Professor Snape qualifies into both categories.” Harry stared incredulous at her. He had not given security a single thought since he killed Voldemort. He could not bring himself to feel any fear as she spoke.

“And you believe they would set up a camp in the Forbidden Forest?” he said with mild astonishment.

“My assignment, Mr Potter, is to ensure that appropriate security measures are taken at Hogwarts and I don’t have the habit of leaving anything to fate,” Mrs Steadfast replied sternly. Harry acquiesced by an apologetic nod of his head. “Speaking of which, I was going to ask you, and I might as well do it now, whether you have any wishes for personal security?” she proceeded.

“Personal security?” Harry echoed with a frown.

“Yes, to those at the greatest risk of being attacked, we offer an attendant Auror, twenty-four hours a day,” responded Mrs Steadfast. Harry looked appalled.

“No thanks,” he said quickly.

“You’d like to think that over,” insisted Mrs Steadfast. “One of your fellow students will have such protection. And I believe you’re at much greater risk of being targeted than he is. I’m afraid your symbolic status is classified as extremely high.” 

“No thanks,” Harry repeated decisively. “You guard Hogwarts the best you can, I appreciate that, Mrs Steadfast, but on no account do I want any security measures intruding on my personal space.” Given that he would make at all it the coming night and that he was set free of Voldemorts tentacles, the last thing in the world he wanted would be to have another leech for the rest of the year, Harry thought to himself.

“You’re of age, I take it?” asked Mrs Steadfast.

“I’m eighteen,” answered Harry.

“He’s a student with a history of flouting rules and a propensity to put himself and his friends in danger,” Snape interposed coldly, but Mrs Steadfast took no notice of him.

“And you have no relatives who will insist on keeping you safe at any price?” she said to Harry.

“I have no one,” he replied.

“So I won’t be getting upset owl mail on your account protesting a decision of not appointing you an attending Auror?”

Harry shook his head.

“Your Headmaster seems to want to have a say in the matter,” said Mrs Steadfast, casting a sideway look at Snape who indeed scowled at her. “However...” She prevented him from talking with the steel in her voice. “...I don’t think I’ll listen to him, considering that he has taken exactly the same stand for his own security, which I have argued heavily against - as I think you are first on their list, Professor Snape!” She looked him directly in the eyes.

“Then let’s not argue the point anymore,” conceded Snape. “I advise you to reconsider your decision, though, Mr Potter,” he continued formally, taking command of things again.

“Minerva, I’ll have to ask you to show Mr Burgess around. Join us at the Three Broomsticks in a couple of hours and I’ll have a word with you there, Mr Burgess. I’d say the job is yours, if Professor McGonagall is reasonably happy with you. We don’t have many applicants for the job and term starts on Monday. You’ll be teaching up to OWL level.”

“Thank you, Headmaster!” Mr Burgess looked relieved and a bit confused.

***

Snape took Harry to the classroom of Defence Against the Dark Arts. He put down the books he had brought on a desk and started to turn the pages.

“I want you to read this thoroughly,” he said. “If you learn the theory behind the spells it should make it easier for me to teach you later.” He looked defiantly at Harry who nevertheless did not protest. “Start with the conjuring part. I’ll show you before I go. Then we’ll do the Avada Kedavra this afternoon when I’ve finished business with Mrs Steadfast. In contrast to what you’ve done before in terms of magical conjuring, tonight you have to produce an exact copy of the creature you saw at Kings Cross Station when you were dead.” Snape made it sound as if it was a sight seeing tour Harry had been to.

“Hitherto you have conjured up objects, maybe animals, which have been identical to the general idea of that object or animal in your head, but without any specific identifiable features, right?”

“I understand,” said Harry.

“Now you should start with objects from your childhood or other objects that have meant something to you. Go on with a specific animal, a pet maybe - you had an owl didn’t you? And lastly I think, try to conjure up that house-elf you told me about who died when he saved you.”

“Dobby?” Harry asked nervously. This did seem difficult.

“Yes, you see, you use your emotions attached to the object in the conjuring process. The stronger the emotion – on condition that you check it - the clearer the product of your spell will be. Now, that’s at the same time the most difficult part, because when you have painful feelings attached to a being - as I believe you do with Dobby and as you undoubtedly will have with the Voldemort creature - there is more psychological resistance involved. Your mind will want to avoid the pain and you’ll have to force it to dwell upon it instead. When the creature you need to call forth by magic is dead, you start with an incantation, which is written here. For objects, you use the shorter one.” He pointed at the corresponding paragraphs in the book.

Snape read the lines in a monotonous voice and drew big strokes in the air with his wand. ”Then you concentrate on the creature and “Resurgo!” Snape made a decisive move with his wand. A black bat in a horizontal position with thin leathery wings stretched out from its sides appeared in front of him. It was still and looked completely solid, floating in the middle of the air. Harry saw a flutter of the eyelids in the impassive face of Snape.

“Evanesco!” Snape made it disappear before Harry had time to say anything. “I’ll leave you to it,” said Snape and swept out of the door.

***

When Snape came back three hours later he found Harry standing in the middle of the room, wand drawn, hairs on end and face streaked with sweat and dust. The room was hot - the big windows let in a radiant sun. In front of Harry, in the air, floated a serene-looking house-elf with a silver knife sticking out of its breast. 

“Good,” said Snape.

“Evanesco!” said Harry. “This is the third time I manage to conjure him up, Professor,” he continued in a stifled voice. He sank down on a chair, exhausted.

“Excellent,” answered Snape. “That’ll do. Save some strength for tonight.”

“I need to eat,” said Harry. Snape looked consternated.

“I’m afraid no one thought of bringing you anything back from the Three Broomsticks. They’ll deliver some food for tonight, though. The house-elves don’t come back until Saturday so the kitchen is closed at Hogwarts for the moment. You’ll just have to go up to Hagrid’s and ask for something there.”

Harry pulled a wry face. He did not think much of Hagrid’s cooking.

“We need to proceed to the Avada Kedavra curse,” Snape said impatiently. “I’ll slip up to my office for a moment while you go and get something to eat and we’ll meet here in half an hour.”

When Snape opened the door again, Harry sat on a chair by a desk. His hair was wet and he looked refreshed. He crammed what looked like clods of loam in his mouth and chewed vigorously.

“Fruit cake,” he said inarticulately “Hagrid didn’t have anything else. It’s like eating concrete. I went for a swim first.” Snape lifted an eyebrow slightly.

“When you want to kill someone with magic,” he started, “you have to mean it.” He started to pace the room up and down. “You don’t have to be angry or upset with the being you are going to kill, but you must have a clear intention to kill. And you must know why you want to do it.” Harry swallowed hard. ”For some wizards this might simply mean the pleasure to exercise power over another being and they need not think much about it. They kill easily. Others will need to formulate more precise and logical motives in their heads to be able to perform the curse. Some think that the former stand is what characterises a murderer while the Death Eaters saw it as a sign of strength. ” Harry shook his head.

“The only legitimate motive to kill is self-defence or to defend someone else in mortal danger,” he said in a low voice, looking up at Snape. “What other motives can there be, Sir?”

“Oh, quite a few, I think, but it’s up to each one to choose which ones to act upon,” said Snape in a light tone. “Strictly speaking, the Avada Kedavra Curse is an Unforgivable Curse and you’ll be charged and sent to Azkaban for using it. But as you were saying - if you can prove a legitimate defence, you won’t be convicted. Furthermore, during certain periods of history the authorities have granted Aurors the right to hunt down and kill known criminals without prior trial. Ministry-bound Aurors were given executive punishing powers and uncritically became the supreme judges of life and death. Thankfully that dangerous practise was ended a few years after Voldemort’s first fall.”

Harry swallowed again with a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. Then he remembered Dumbledore and the Avada Kedavra Snape had killed him with.

“Will they try you for the killing of Dumbledore, Sir?” he asked.

“Yes, I certainly believe they will,” said Snape. “Firstly, there’re a lot of people who are not convinced that I did it out of mercy and secondly: helping someone to a more lenient death is not an officially acceptable excuse to kill someone.”

Harry frowned.

“But that’s not the subject,” Snape pressed on. “Today you need to learn how to perform the curse. We’ll start with killing insects then move on to bigger animals. I gather you have never played with or experimented with that kind of things? Some kids do I’m afraid.”

“No, I’ve not,” answered Harry, wondering whether Snape was talking about himself.

“Now, Potter, I want to hear you formulate the reason why you want to kill this grasshopper.” Snape put a glass jar with a grasshopper trapped inside on the desk in front of Harry. It jumped up on the wall and slid down only to recommence its attempts to escape.

“I don’t really want to kill it...” began Harry at which Snape turned his eyes to the ceiling.

“Then you won’t be able to,” he said. “And I’ll mark you with a fail. Start again.”

“I need to practice this curse,” Harry tried again, “I’d prefer not to hurt the grasshopper...but I’ll try to kill…”

“Failed - it won’t work!” cried Snape “Come on Potter! Focus! You need a clear intent. Start with: I want to kill this grasshopper because...” Harry frowned harder to himself.

“I want to kill this grasshopper because I need to learn the Avada Kedavra Curse to be able to free myself from an evil creature that will kill me if I don’t kill it first.”

“Good! It might work. You may freeze the grasshopper before you kill it, it’ll be easier.”

“But that’s cheating! He won’t stand a chance!“ Harry protested.

“You’re incredible, Potter. You don’t want him to ‘stand a chance’. You need to learn this curse before nightfall. Get on with it! And try to control your over-sized sympathy,” spat Snape.

They worked for hours. The beams of the late afternoon sun now only hit the wall at the fond and its glow was getting more golden than bright. Harry had recurrent difficulties with feeling sorry for the animals and when they got to rabbits he was in real agony and started to feel nauseated after he finally killed a white-furred trembling little one. 

“Why do I have to practice on innocent creatures?” he protested angrily. “Don’t you have some evil pixies or something? It would be much easier.”

“You need to work on your motivation, that’s why. You need to remember the Vanishing Draught and the Draught of Permanent Peace that were your alternatives. Now, conjure up your dead elf friend,” said Snape.

“Why?” said Harry surprised. “You said I should spare my strength.”

“Do it!” commanded Snape.

Harry collected himself, read the incantation slowly and articulately and moved his wand - “Resurgo” - and Dobby appeared before them floating in the air. Harry’s heart ached at the sight.

“Now, kill him,” said Snape. Harry stared at him.

“I won’t kill Dobby, Professor,” he said slowly.

“He’s already dead, Potter,” Snape said impatiently.

“I won’t do it, Sir,” said Harry with determination in his voice.

“You will not really kill him, because he is, like I already said, dead. He won’t feel anything.” Snape spelled the words out as if speaking to someone feeble-minded. “And that’s why you need to practice on him, as this will mimic the situation you’ll be in tonight. You’re to kill an already dead but full-sized creature. Now, do it!”

“Evanesco!” Harry turned upon Snape, furious. “There’s a huge difference between what I’ll do tonight and what you want me to do here,” he shouted, “...and that’s that Dobby was my friend and a truly good and loyal being, whereas the freak I’ll try to kill tonight was something evil that was forced upon me without my knowing it or wanting it, and it plagued me for years. It’s an absolutely appalling creature which is trying to kill me from the other side of the grave. I won’t be deficient in motivation for killing it!”

“That’s good,” said Snape, “but you still need to practice on a full-size creature.”

“I might just as well conjure up Fred Weasley in front of us and kill him!” hissed Harry, his face white with anger. Snape flinched but responded with his waspish voice:

“I’ll not go down to the forest tonight without knowing that you’re capable of performing the curse essential for the success of this operation. You have remarkable difficulties with the killing curse. I don’t want to waste my time on a hopeless case.”

“I won’t practice on Dobby or on any other dead friend,” said Harry still trembling with anger. “I‘ll do it on my own then. I’ve got the general idea. I’ll go down there and fight alone. I was alone last time, wasn’t I?”

Snape looked like he wanted to hit Harry for his stubbornness.

“Last time you only needed to die,” he said warningly. “You won’t be able to do it on your own this time. Haven’t you read the testimonies? There are complicated incantations to be read after each and one of the seven Avadas to release you from the demon. You’ll be affected by the pain the creature inflicts on you on the one hand and by the uproar of your own conscience against killing someone on the other. And that’s exactly the point I’m making here: Are you capable of killing a full-sized creature that you have once taken pity on - at all? Prove it, or I quit this job.” Harry was silent.

“I’ll conjure it up right here then and show you,” Harry said finally. Snape shook his head.

“It’ll cost you a lot of energy,” he said, “but be my guest.”

Snape sat down, arms crossed over his chest. Harry bit his lip. His heart was pounding. He must do it. If he failed tonight he would not be there when Ron and Hermione came back the day after tomorrow. He would never return to Ginny. He had started to hope for a future, he must fight for it. He closed his eyes, picturing in front of him the maimed creature he had to defeat.

He drew his breath and started once again the forth-calling incantation in a calm ringing voice. He let the awe, the repugnance and the fear of the creature blended with the tiny amount of pity he felt for it stream through his body and he said the spell decisively. He kept himself composed in front of the naked, flayed-looking, ugly, child-sized creature that floated in the air. He did not wait long.

I want to kill this monster to survive, he thought. “Avada Kedavra!” he shouted and the green light left his wand to pierce and dissolve the creature. He turned, shocked, to face Snape whose eyes were a bit wide.

“Excellent!” he said. “Excellent! You’re ready!”

Harry shrank away from him, doubled up, staggered towards a dustbin in a corner and threw up. He was sick for several minutes before he sat down on the floor, panting and closing his eyes as waves of nausea still washed through him.

“I made it,” he said weakly. He glanced furtively at Snape, wondering if this had been the plan all along - if Snape had provoked him with Dobby to goad him into doing what he had just done. Snape’s face was inscrutable. “I’ll just have to do it under the influence of unbearable pain as well,” Harry added wryly.

“I’ll help you,” said Snape quickly. Harry frowned at him.

“You mustn’t take the pain away from me like you did last night, Professor,” he said. “You must know that. I’ve read the testimonies. I have to do the seven Avadas on my own, otherwise it might not work. I’ll need you to prod me to do the killing curses and you must be fit to do the Releasing Incantations after each attack. You won’t be fit to help me if you do that pain transfer incantation. Do you agree?”

Snape nodded. Some apprehension could be read on his face.

Harry was still so nauseated he could hardly swallow a bite when they went down to dinner in the Great Hall. Professor McGonagall threw him worried glances but didn’t say anything. Hagrid didn’t seem to notice that Harry was white-faced and silent. He was only too happy to be seated beside his friend, relishing the fact that the Hall would be full of pupils in only a few days time. It was a strange feeling to sit in the huge empty room at a corner of a table, only six of them: Snape, Professor McGonagall, Harry, Hagrid, Mme Pomfrey and Filch. At least they were not sitting on the podium where teachers usually ate, watching over the students, but at a corner of the Slytherin table, which for Harry was an equally odd position. Harry pushed his plate full of food away and looked at Snape who nodded and they stood up.

“You’ll know the way, I presume,” said Snape to Harry as they stepped out of the Great Hall.

“Yes, but I’d like to retrace my steps, if you don’t mind. If we could just start downstairs of Dumbledore’s office.” Snape frowned but did not protest. They walked through a corridor and stopped. Harry looked at the Gargoyle statue that guarded the entrance to the Headmaster’s office. The day of the battle, he had come out of there knowing what was left for him to do, heart pounding but the body chilled with the knowledge that he was walking to his death.

Harry turned and Snape followed. They went out through the door, crossed the inner court, through the valve and were out of the castle. Harry walked like in a trance. Snape saw him stop on his way and gesture as if he addressed someone. In the dusk of the evening, they cast long shadows behind them as they proceeded towards the Forbidden Forest right behind Hagrid’s cottage. Here again Harry stopped and clutched at something invisible around his neck. He formed his hands as if holding an object that he approached to his lips. He fumbled with his fingers and then he turned around as if looking on something or someone. Snape saw Harry talking silently to himself. His face was calm but glowing with intense concentration. Snape did not say a word but followed silently.

They proceeded deeper and deeper into the forest that became increasingly bushy and wild. It was silent as if devoid of life this evening. At last they approached a clearing. This had been the nest of Aragog, Hagrid’s giant pet spider. It was abandoned. All the spiders were gone and some green grass had started to grow on the treaded ground. Harry stopped and made a gesture as if he took off a cloak. He took his wand and stuffed it away under his shirt then drew a deep breath and stepped into the clearing. Snape let him stand there for a long while before he approached him gently.

“Potter... Harry!” Not until the third time Snape said his name did Harry turn his head to look at him.

“Yes, Professor?” he said absentmindedly. Snape cleared his throat.

“Where did Voldemort stand? Over there?” he asked.

“Yes, right there. And there were about fifty Death Eaters standing in a ring around Voldemort and me. There were Fenrir and Yaxley over there and Rowle. Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa stood to the left of Voldemort and Bellatrix right beside him.” Harry pointed as he spoke. “There was a fire over there,” he showed Snape.

“We should cast some protective spells around us. Who knows what might come out of the forest at night, even if Hagrid claims that it has been strangely deserted since the battle. And we had better make sure no one hears us either. Death Eaters might be hidden behind every tree, if you listen to Mrs Steadfast,” Snape said sarcastically.

Harry helped out with casting the wards. He knew the protective incantations by heart since camping in the forest with Ron and Hermione. They used to dress protections around their tent every night. Snape listened to Harry as he worked his way systematically in a circle around them.

“That’s a new way of reciting those protections,” Snape said suspiciously and tested the shield that Harry had cast, but seemed satisfied with the result. “What did you do to the incantations - you’ve made shortcuts?” he asked with some interest.

“I don’t know, really. I guess I found it tedious every day to sing the long texts for each and one of them so I sort of interweaved them - they have many parts in common, you know. I just tried it out until it worked.” Harry shrugged. Snape didn’t say anything but lit a fire at the same spot Harry had shown him.

“The first time will be the most difficult,” said Snape, “because you’ll be asleep and will need to wake up before the pain gets too hard a grip on you to do your spells. I’ll do my best to wake you up when I notice it’s coming upon you.”