Blood by The Lord of Chaos

Harry had found himself worrying on and off about Sammy throughout the winter break and he felt that seeing her again when all of the students returned from holiday put him a bit at ease. He knew full well though how people could put on a good face and marshal through rough times. They wound up crossing paths a couple of weeks into the new term and Sammy told him all about how wonderful her housemates were and how well she was getting on with her brother now. She didn't mention the winter holidays and Harry didn't ask.

He didn't get much time to dwell on it. He didn't regularly see Sammy and besides a brief and awkward interaction with Justin a few days later, Harry didn't much have time to think of the Eldrichs. The new term started at a fast pace and there was no sign it would be slowing down any time soon. The only reprieve Harry really had was visiting with Professor Snape and Quidditch and two weeks into term a very important game arrived.

"I suppose congratulations are in order Professor," Harry said when he walked into Professor Snape's quarters. "That was a solid victory for Slytherin."

He could have just walked there with the Professor, but Professor Snape was keeping Harry a secret, so walking back to the castle together would have looked weird.

"Oh, I hardly had any hand in that," Professor Snape said. "You may certainly congratulate the team if you have the chance; I'm sure they would appreciate that. Of course this game just improves the odds that it will be Slytherin/Gryffindor vying for the Cup at the end of term, doesn't it?"

"I think it's the first time Oliver's ever cheered a Slytherin victory," Harry said with a grin. "The point spread is really good now. We've still got to beat Ravenclaw though, of course. I'm surprised Ollie didn't call an emergency meeting after the game to go over all the moves they played against you."

"Then I am glad you did not have to cancel our meeting," Professor Snape said. "Have you been practicing?"

"I have been," Harry said. "I'm getting a lot more comfortable with the exercises."

"Good," Professor Snape said. "I'd like for you to master Occlumency eventually. Not merely practice some exercises for your Patronus Charm. There are a great many benefits to learning the art."

Harry smiled. They had gone a long way from Professor Snape trying to dissuade him, to getting actual encouragement to master the difficult magic.

"It would be nice if I didn't have to worry about random mind readers," Harry said.

"We aren't all too common," Professor Snape said.

"Still," Harry said. They went to go sit down in the drawing room, taking their usual seats opposite each other.

"Greyback was spotted again," Professor Snape said. "Kent, this time."

Harry frowned. "I keep hoping that the next time someone spots him something will actually happen," Harry said. "How can he be so active and slip away every time?"

"He has a lot of practice," Professor Snape said. "I told you that hoping it would be a comfort. You must still be vigilant, but knowing that he seems to have his sights elsewhere gives us a bit of breathing room."

"I'm just worried about what he's going to do next," Harry said. "If he's not after me then he's after someone else."

"And if he is, it would not be your fault that you are not his target," Professor Snape said.

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, I know that," he said. "It's just… At least with me, we knew he was coming after me. Who knows who he'll go after next. They won't be protected like I was."

Professor Snape sighed. "This conversation isn't very conducive to your learning Occlumency," he said.

"Probably not," Harry said. "Thanks again for taking the time to teach me this, by the way."

"You are a good student," Professor Snape said. "I am glad to be teaching you."

Harry smiled at that. It was nice to hear, as odd as it was to hear those words coming out of Professor Snape's mouth.

They ran through the two exercises as they had the previous two practice sessions; Harry did well. It wasn't just that Professor Snape told him he was doing it right, it felt right, in his mind. The process felt smoother, the false stories seemed to slip in just right. He knew that there was a subtle magic involved. Visualization was a key in performing magic, and that road, it seemed, could go both ways. It wasn't that muggles couldn't train their minds in a similar way, but magic facilitated the process for wizards and went beyond what the mind could do alone.

Every time they ran through the exercises now, Harry got a new question. He had to create a new falsehood every time. He had always been good at lying, as long as he was prepared. He was terrible on the spot. It had been essential to survival before Hogwarts. He didn't do too well when he was caught off guard though. It was good, Harry thought, to change scenarios like they were. He was still wary of revealing something to Professor Snape unintentionally, but so far he had been good at keeping focused on the exercises, and Professor Snape kept the topic of the exercises mundane.

"The next question I will ask is," Professor Snape said. "Did you eat any chocolate yesterday?"

"That's no good," Harry said. "I'm pretty sure you can guess the answer."

"Perhaps I can," Professor Snape said. "Very well, in that case… Describe your favorite outfit to wear in the muggle world."

Harry forced a smile. The professor had never seen him in his cousin's oversized hand-me-downs. He imagined the sort of clothes he had wanted when he had been about to turn eleven. Before he had bought school robes and button up shirts without stains and slacks that didn't, strictly speaking, still need a belt by the end of the school year. Before he had leather shoes that weren't extra wide and worn.

"Ready?" Professor Snape asked.

"Mmhmm," Harry said. He focused on the fantasy, rather than focusing on not thinking about the horrid clothes he had worn for ten years and a few weeks during his summers.

"So what did you think about the Slytherin Chasers this match?" Professor Snape asked.

Harry smiled. "Looking for pointers, Professor?" he asked cheekily.

"Mr. Flint is being scouted," Professor Snape said. "As is your own Mr. Wood I do believe. There was a league representative at the game today. I was merely wondering how you think they played."

"Oh Flint would do well on the Wasps," Harry said. "They've really got that whole fierce power play bravado thing going on in their matches. Of course, the Gryffindor Chasers are a lot more efficient on the field. Do you think there'll be a scout at one of the Gryffindor games?" Harry asked.

"There likely will be," Professor Snape said. "How do you feel about that?"

"Oh, well we'd better do right by Ollie I figure," Harry said.

"How have your new gauntlets worked for you?" Professor Snape asked.

"I've been staying away from the bludgers during practice," Harry said. "But they fit really well thanks."

"You're welcome," Professor Snape said. "So what do you like to wear in the muggle world?"

"Oh just my jean shorts and a t-shirt during the summer," Harry said. He visualized the outfit that he had never worn. He imagined how it felt, and how it must be to not be embarrassed of what you were wearing as you walked down the street.

"That was good," Professor Snape said. "Indistinguishable from the truth, but it was incongruous. You were very casual when we were discussing quidditch and your new equipment, I could feel your focus when we came to the question about your clothing. If I were looking for deception, that would be a giveaway. That intensity will be good while practicing the patronus though, but as a defense from a Legilimens, you must be subtle."

"Right," Harry said. "Don't oversell it."

"You are doing well," Professor Snape said. "I think we should practice with active Legilimency."

"How would that be different?" Harry asked, frowning.

"My presence in your mind would be much less subtle, the spell makes it harder to direct your own thoughts. I will still not be actively rooting through your mind, trying to direct you in any particular direction, but you will find it harder to properly focus. It is good practice for the patronus, since the dementor has a similar effect. Of course, this will not cause the dementor's other effects, but it will increase the difficulty."

"Right," Harry said. He could do that. He needed to do that. He needed to master the Patronus Charm. He needed to be able to protect himself.

"Now if a legilimens were to be employing this spell against you in the real world, they would not hold back. They would actively be following memories and thought associations to find what they were looking for. Since I will not be doing that, I will still be questioning you as we have been doing," Professor Snape said. "Your next question will be… What is the name of your first childhood friend?"

That wasn't really a question he wanted to test his skills at a new level of Legilimency on. He didn't have a friend he could switch in for a hypothetical first friend. It was like the clothes, he would have to invent a person who had never been Harry's friend, much less his first friend. His first friend was Ron, but there was no way he could let Professor Snape know that.

Harry imagined being small. He imagined playing in the park, another boy running through the jungle gym with him. He imagined carefree laughter. Trevor was as good a name as any, for an imaginary friend.

"I'm ready," Harry said.

Professor Snape drew his wand. "Legilimens," he said.

The feeling of a presence in his mind was much stronger than it had ever been. It made his skin crawl, he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. He focused on structuring his thoughts.

"I don't think you've ever mentioned what your favorite team is," Professor Snape said conversationally; as though he wasn't dragging his feet, walking though his son's mind.

"Don't really have one," Harry said, and it was so hard to keep his mind on the topic at hand. Every thought seemed to want to lead somewhere else. "There's some players I like, on different teams. Tacheus Worth's really good, they call him the 'Iron Wall.'"

"What position does he play?" Professor Snape asked.

"Keeper," Harry said. "He's got the highest block rate in the league right now."

"He's not the one who keeps showing up on Witch Weekly's front cover, is he?" Professor Snape asked.

"Probably," Harry said, focusing very hard. He felt that if he lost his concentration, his mind could go anywhere. "Didn't think you read anything besides potions periodicals though."

"I have confiscated many copies during class," Professor Snape said, his eyebrows raised.

"My aunt used to get the same sort of magazines," Harry said, wishing instantly that he could take the words back. He very much would not have brought up his aunt at all if he had been thinking properly.

"Yes," Professor Snape said. "She was much the same when I was younger. How is Petunia? You must have heard from her over the holidays."

Harry tried not to think of how he had been happy not to have heard from the Dursleys at all, and of course trying not to think about it brought it right to the forefront of his mind.

"She's well," Harry said, hoping he hadn't been caught, hoping that Professor Snape wasn't paying attention to Harry's mind until he asked the final question, that the fleeting thought had come and gone before the professor could properly understand it. "Christmas is always her favorite time of the year."

Unbidden, thoughts of Christmas with the Dursleys came to mind. He turned his mind back to quidditch and the game he had just seen.

"What was the name of your first childhood friend?" Professor Snape asked.

Before he could even try to bring up the fantasy of a boy named Trevor, a memory came to mind of sitting at the edge of the playground, watching everyone else play. He focused on the lie.

"Trevor," Harry said. "His name was Trevor. He moved away a while back." The presence retreated from his mind.

There was a moment's pause where neither of them spoke.

"This approach requires a lot more focus," Professor Snape said. "You did well in the beginning, but it's difficult to maintain that much concentration."

"Right," Harry said. "Yeah, I should probably practice some more before our next go."

"Did you want to stay for lunch?" Professor Snape asked. He looked perturbed, Harry thought.

"I told Ron and Hermione I'd see them for lunch actually," Harry lied.

There was another moment of silence.

"You know Harry," Professor Snape said. "I think that's the first time you've ever mentioned your family."

Harry's mouth stopped working, and he found himself avoiding making eye contact while he tried to force something out. "Oh," he said after what was probably much to long of a moment. He focused on keeping the panic internal. "Was it? Surely I've mentioned them before."

"Of course," Professor Snape said. "How is everything with your family. Sooner or later I feel it would be appropriate to meet them."

"Oh," Harry said. "Yeah, umm… I don't know. They don't really like magic, you see. Not sure they'd want another wizard popping in."

Professor Snape frowned. "Petunia never grew out of that?" he asked.

"Apparently not," Harry said. "But you know, family's family. I can't complain."

"You can't complain about a family that is prejudiced against something that's inherent to your very nature?" Professor Snape asked.

"Oh, well they took me in, didn't they? But lot's of kids don't see eye to eye with their families, so umm…" Harry said. "Yeah, I should go meet with Ron and Hermione for lunch."

Professor Snape looked like he wanted to say something but he didn't. There was a pause.

"Very well then Harry," Professor Snape said at last, and Harry couldn't tell at all what the man was thinking. "I'll see you in the lab this afternoon."

"Right," Harry said. "I should go, I'll see you, Professor."

"Indeed," Professor Snape said.

Harry left for the library where Ron would probably be cajoling Hermione to go eat soon. He frowned thinking about Ron. Things were still weird, but he couldn't think about that then. All he could think about was what had just happened. He didn't make it to the library before he had to duck behind a wall hanging that covered a secret passage. In the relative privacy he kicked the wall a couple of times before slumping down in the dark passage.

Legilimency practice had been a disaster. He had worried it would be a disaster the whole time going into it, but it still felt like a shock. He had been so careful to avoid anything that would show Professor Snape Harry at his worst, and then he had had to go and bring up the Dursleys. The question was, how much had Professor Snape seen? How well could he interpret the brief flashes of memories? What could he have seen other than that Harry didn't get along with the Dursleys or that once upon a time he had been lonely watching the other kids play? There were certainly things that he could infer, but how much would he read into it?

There was too much in his head that Harry didn't want Professor Snape to see. In the grand order of things, the two memories that he might have seen were insignificant, this hadn't been disastrous, but what about next time? What if Professor Snape wanted to know more? Wouldn't that be normal, for a dad to want to know about the people raising his son?

"What do I want, and what do I need?" Harry asked himself out loud.

He wanted Professor Snape to be his dad. He wanted what Ron and Hermione had with their parents to some extent or another. He wanted proud smiles. He wanted weekend excursions and the security of home. He wanted a summer where he wasn't hiding in his own house or listening for the movements of everyone around him.

He needed to be able to protect himself. He needed to master the patronus. Harry could never again be at the very lacking mercy of a dementor. He needed to be able to protect his mind. Even when he had had nothing he had had his mind, his thoughts. They were his and his alone. His memories, whether they were good or bad were not for anyone else. His ability to lie when he needed to had always been essential to his survival. What could he do when his worst memories and his biggest secrets could be accessed by anyone with a wand.

What if what he needed put what he wanted in jeopardy? What if getting what he needed left the very mind he was trying to protect bare to man he wanted to care about him?

"What do I want and what do I need?" he whispered into the darkness.

He needed to practice. He needed to practice so that he could master the art. He needed to practice so he could face Professor Snape and not worry about what he might see. Occlumency would protect him. He would master the Patronus Charm. He would practice, and Occlumency would help him be the boy Professor Snape thought he was.

He started one of the breathing exercises from the book. He started organizing his mind as best he could. He needed to practice. He had plenty of time until lab time. Later, he could tell Ron and Hermione he had had lunch with Professor Snape.

IIIIIIIII

He should really get going. He had already had too much and he really couldn't afford another one. Though his money was almost gone anyway.

"Thought I recognized you," the stranger said as Steven drained the last of his beer. Steven looked to the side and saw a man who looked worse off than he himself was.

"Pretty sure I'm no one you know," Steven said.

"Sure you are," the stranger said. "You worked for Ogdens. Heard all about the scandal."

Alarmed, Steven stood up quickly and took a couple of stumbling steps away from the stranger. He put his hand over the pocket that his wand was in, but he didn't draw it. He was in a muggle bar for a reason, no one was supposed to recognize him. Though even if there weren't muggles around, he didn't think he could aparate away after all he had drunk.

"I don't want any trouble," Steven said. "If you don't want me drinking at your bar… I'll just go."

The stranger rolled his eyes. "Now did they fire you because they found out you were a werewolf, or did they fire you because they knew that you wouldn't fight for what was yours. Never back down from what you've got. The world the way it is, we can never give an inch."

The stranger casually held up his left arm and pulled back his long sleeve revealing a savage looking bite mark on his forearm. Steven's hand absentmindedly drifted to the back of his thigh where he himself had been bitten.

"Come on, sit," the stranger said in a friendly but commanding manner. "I want to buy you a drink."

Steven sat down and the stranger sat down next to him, motioning to the bar keeper. Steven had always avoided other werewolves, and it seemed unreal to just be sitting down next to one in a bar. Now that he really looked at the man, Steven could See the glamour. He wasn't talented enough to see through it, but he knew it was there. He'd change his face too if he could work the charm past hiding his scars without making himself look like a Picasso.

"Boy I'd be furious if I'd had something taken from me like that," the stranger said.

"I am furious," Steven said.

"You could have fooled me," the stranger said. "Just drowning yourself in drink with money that's about to run out, ready to run from the first person to know what you are."

"I suppose you've always been able to make it work out," Steven said. "Never lost a job have you, being what you are?"

"Never had a job to lose," the stranger said. "But I've lost a lot, and you'd better believe I've never let a slight pass. How many years did you work for them? How much did you sweat for that company before they threw you away?"

"Eight god damn years," Steven said.

"Eight years," the stranger crowed. "Eight wasted years. How many of those years did a wolf walk among the sheep?"

"Just two," Steven said. "But I made it work. I kept it a secret, I kept my performance up, I did my god damn job. They promoted me. They promoted a god damn werewolf! Then that fuck Davies got damned nosey. He was jealous. He was jealous of my promotion. He snooped into what I had hidden so well."

"You shouldn't have had to keep it a secret," the stranger said. "You should be proud of what you are. You're a survivor. You're stronger than they are. You're sharper than they are. That isn't disgust they feel when they look at you… It's fear. They know that you're better than them, and they know that they're afraid to stand where you stand. We're of the highest order in this world, but they try to keep us on the bottom."

"You make it sound like it's better to be one of us," Steven said.

"It is," the stranger said. "But you're trying to live like one of them. You're not one of them. You're something better. We're more than halfway to the next moon. Can't you feel it? It's high above you now. Don't you feel more alive? Don't you feel the pull?"

"Yeah," Steven said. "Less than half a month till I have to lock myself in a cage. Half a month till I add new scars, and break more bones." He didn't know how he would manage the hospital bills this coming moon.

"You've never done it, have you?" the stranger asked. "Transformed without a cage? You don't know what it's like, you don't know what it is to let the wolf run free."

"I can't exactly afford the wolfsbane potion right now," Steven said. Even before he had been fired, that had been an occasional luxury.

The stranger's face twisted. "Who said anything about that shite," he said. "I said let the wolf run free. There's nothing else like it."

Steven began to feel nervous. "I couldn't do that," he said. "I could hurt someone."

"There are ways," the stranger said. "There are ways to be safe. Easy ways. The Ministry would rather lock you up in a cage, where you can't see the moon, where the wolf can't be free, and of course you wind up hurt. You can't cage the wolf. Your wolf was meant to be free. I have my ways, and I have never made a mistake during the moon. Not once. Over thirty years my wolf has run free. You can't imagine the sensation; you can't imagine how different it is. You would look forward to the moon every month. You would miss it when it was gone."

"It wouldn't be safe," Steven said. He didn't want to hurt anyone. "Not really."

"Safe for who?" the stranger asked. "That cage isn't safe for you. It isn't even really safer for them. All it is is their little ego stroke. They know that you're better than them. They know you're on a higher level, but they put you in a cage so they can feel better about themselves. They put you in a cage, and made you believe you belonged there, when there are ways, oh yes, there are ways for you to run free, and for them to be safe and sound in their homes, but they don't want that. They spread lies about us. In the natural order you would have advantage over them, so they want to make things harder for you. Keep you out of work, keep you from seeking out others like you, keep you from succeeding in their society."

"Look I've heard people talk about werewolf colonies before," Steven said. "If that's where you're going. You know the ministry would never let one form."

"Colony," the stranger scoffed. "You're still thinking like you're one of them. You're not one of them. You aren't meant to live like one of them. You're something more. We're something better. What is a colony but a pathetic miniaturization of their society. Forget their society, forget their way of living. They'll never let you in. There's something better for you; for us. You're meant for greater things than their world can offer. Transform with me. In two weeks, transform with me."

"I don't know," Steven said. He had been dreading the next moon. He had been dreading the next two weeks. Money was running out and transforming on an empty stomach was misery. It was only going to get worse.

"Forget what you know," the stranger said. "All you know is what their ministry has fed you. What do you feel? You have instincts in there, they've tried to suppress them, but you have instincts. Embrace them. Feel it. You aren't meant to be in a cage. Transform with me."

It was a command, and Steven almost balked at that, but he wanted to. He really wanted to now. He was sick of cages. He was sick of waiting to see just how badly he could hurt himself.

"Okay," he said. "Okay, yeah. I will."

At least this month, with all the crap that had been heaped on him, he needed one thing to look forward to.

"Just this once, yeah," Steven said. "I'll try it. It's safe, you said."

The stranger smiled and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Safe as houses," he said.

IIIIIIIII

"Ron's mad at you," Hermione said, as they walked out towards the greenhouses.

Harry frowned down at the snow beneath his feet. "I know," he said. "I just wish I knew how to fix it."

"Do you really think you can fix this?" Hermione asked.

"I have to, don't I," Harry said, frustrated. "I'll figure it out." He had to fix things with Ron. He could lose everything else, but he had to fix things with Ron.

"It doesn't really seem like you're trying," Hermione said, and a chill went up Harry's spine and it seemed that suddenly his cloak wasn't enough for the winter chill.

"I am," Harry said. "I really am, I just don't know what to do."

"Have you tried apologizing?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know how," Harry said. "How do you apologize for that? I don't understand…"

"What's there to understand?" Hermione asked. "You bring chaos to everything. You ruin everything just by being around. Everything's worse now. Do you think Pettigrew would have infiltrated Ron's family if he hadn't wanted to be able to spy on you? To take you? To kill you? I know I have had to help you figure a lot of things out Harry but that shouldn't be one of them. I don't know why I bother anymore. I don't know why I ever did."

"I'm sorry Hermione," Harry said. "Please, I'll fix this."

"How can a mistake like you fix anything?" Aunt Petunia asked, a metal ruler in one hand and Harry's stretched out forearm in the other. "Mistakes just make mistakes, haven't I always told you that. You should be thanking me for this. No one else would bother. Did you think I couldn't tell? It should be obvious by now that everyone can tell. Eventually."

"No!" Harry said. "I've helped people. I've done good things too. I'm not all bad."

"Then why did you let him kill me?" Ms. Addler asked him, and she was terrible to look at. The primal part of his brain screamed at him to look away; to run away, but he couldn't move a muscle as she stared at him with wide dead accusing eyes flecked with blood.

"You had a wand in your hand and you couldn't do anything with it," Ms. Addler said.

"Useless boy," Aunt Petunia muttered.

"You wanted him to kill me," Ms. Addler said. "You wanted it to happen. You're just like him. You're a killer."

"No," Harry said, finding his voice. "No, it wasn't my wand. Other people's wands don't work right. I tried. I really tried."

"So are you a killer or are you a failure?" the Auror asked, pad and quill in hand, taking down notes as suspicious eyes bore into Harry's skull. "Are you sure you did the spell right? I've used a dozen different wands in my lifetime. Just because it isn't a perfect match doesn't mean you can't use it. So did you mess up the spell the one time someone was actually counting on you, or did you just let her die? I've had a lot of reports. People tell me there's just something not right about you. I've heard some things that are really quite disturbing. I'm really starting to wonder why you led him right into that muggle's backyard."

"I didn't mean to!" Harry said desperately.

"Don't worry about it, Harry. I can make it all go away," Professor Lockheart said, twirling his wand between his fingers, a predatory smile on his face. "I can make you forget; as if it never happened. We wouldn't want this failure to ruin your fame. What would people think? They wouldn't understand. Celebrity's a fickle thing Harry. They'll always believe the worst about you. You're lucky no one seems to have caught on to who you really are. I can take it away, I can take it all away; your memories. Wouldn't you rather forget? I can take it all away, Harry my boy. Not that there's much to take."

"Stupid boy," Aunt Petunia muttered.

"You can't make it not have happened," Harry said angrily. "She'll still be dead whether I remember or not. How can I stop it from happening again if I don't know what's wrong with me? I need to know if I've messed up."

"All you do is mess up," Aunt Petunia said. "You ruined my perfect family."

"I didn't mean to," Harry said. "I didn't choose to live with you."

"I've heard enough excuses from you," Uncle Vernon roared, pinning him against the wall, his feet dangling. "I've had enough. I don't know how I put up with you for so long. Lord knows I tried to make you right. I tried to make you normal, tried to put some use to you, but there's nothing but freak in you, and even that's not useful. I should have thrown you in the trash the day you arrived on our doorstep."

"I had Colonel Fubster drown a litter of freaks just last week," Aunt Marge said. "You wouldn't want them contaminating the rest."

"Worthless freak," Aunt Petunia muttered.

"I'm not a freak," Harry said, desperately wishing it were true. "I'm a wizard. That's what it was. That's why you could never love me. You just didn't like magic."

"But we all know that's not what it really was, Mr. Potter," Professor Snape said. "Don't we."

"Dad," Harry said. It was almost pleading, but Harry had learned long ago what pleading got him.

"Silence, you fool," Professor Snape said. "Did you think you could trick me? Did you think I wouldn't see through that thin little mask you wear? I don't have to read your mind to know that you're disgusting."

"I can explain," Harry said.

"Explain it to your parents," Ron said, the larger boy pinning him down on the ground. "Explain how they died for a disgusting freak like you. Explain how you've made a mockery of their sacrifice. You didn't even try. Admit it. Admit it! You just let him. We all know why."

He wrapped his hands around Harry's throat. "It's 'cause you're a freak. You can tell yourself it'll never happen again, but it will. It's going to happen again and again and again unless you do something about it. I think there's one foolproof way to be sure that it'll never happen again; you just won't go through with it. You can't do the world a favor? I guess I'm going to have to help you out, one last time."

The hands around his neck tightened and Harry couldn't breathe as he struggled and flailed, even as despair was eating him alive.

'NO,' Harry thought. 'No, this isn't right. Ron wouldn't.'

It was like a spell. One moment his vision was going black, the next he was opening his eyes to the darkened canopy of his bed, gulping for breath. He grabbed his hair, curled up on top of his bed as he tried desperately to clear his mind of everything he had just seen. It was a pointless exercise while every part of him was screaming with adrenaline and misery.

"Harry?" Ron's voice said from beyond his bed curtains. Harry gasped, his heart in his throat.

"You okay?" Ron asked, sounding nervous.

"Yeah," Harry said around the massive lump. "Just a dream."

There was a padding of feet away from his bed and Harry flopped backwards onto his pillow, closing his eyes and willing the images in his head to go away, he tried wiping his face with his pajama sleeves. He didn't hear Ron come back until his head was poking through the curtain, followed by the rest of him.

"Can you do that spell?" Ron asked.

It took Harry a moment to realize what spell Ron was talking about. He wiped at his face a bit more in the dark and pulled his wand from his nightstand and sat up in bed.

"Lumos Saltatio," Harry said, casting his gaze upwards as the small canopy filled with small dancing lights. He looked down to see Ron handing him a couple squares of chocolate, leaning against the far bedpost.

"Hermione'd lecture us if she knew we were eating chocolate in the middle of the night," Ron said. "Again."

"Yeah," Harry said.

They sat in silence for a while, the silence just as awkward as things had been the past three weeks.

"Delimitas," Ron cast at Harry's curtains, a new skill he'd picked up from his project, followed by "Silencio." Harry looked at Ron, worried.

"I think we need to talk," Ron said.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, and he tried to pour every ounce of himself into those words.

"What?" Ron asked. "You're sorry? That's what I was supposed to say. What would you even be sorry for?"

"For everything," Harry said.

"Yeah, well I think you're going to have to be a bit more specific than that," Ron said.

"I'm sorry for all the bad stuff I've caused in your life," Harry said.

"I'm still really confused," Ron said, looking at Harry with a bewildered expression on his face.

"I talked you into going after the stone and you got hurt real bad," Harry said. "I-I almost got you expelled. Convinced you to go get eaten by a bunch of giant spiders, and a mountain troll. Your sister got kidnapped because of me. You got drugged because of me. Oh, and also a fucking creep of a wizard decided to get close to me by infiltrating your family as your pet rat." Harry was shaking with his confession and he couldn't look at Ron.

"Like, literally none of that was your fault," Ron said. "Okay, the spiders I'm blaming on you. But everything else? You saved Ginny's life. That was all Malfoy's fault anyways. He was going after my dad, not you."

"Riddle was after me," Harry said. "And don't you think you would have figured things out about Ginny if I hadn't been taking the spotlight with the whole stupid Heir of Slytherin thing?"

"None of that was your fault though," Ron said. "I was responsible for Ginny, not you."

"All of it was my fault," Harry said. "If I wasn't here none of this would have ever happened."

"Ginny would have still needed saving, and I don't know which of the crazy people who run this place I would have trusted to go save her. I'm glad I had you."

Harry shook his head.

"Look, as far as I'm concerned, I won the best friend lottery," Ron said. "Winning that chess game was one of the best moments of my life, thank you very much. I might add that my other best friend would have been eaten by a mountain troll if you hadn't convinced me to go with you to save her. That was pretty awesome too. The best things I've ever done are because of you."

"Everything you do revolves around taking care of me," Harry said. "My life's always a mess and I'm always dragging you along."

"Your life's a mess because there's a bunch of asshats who keep trying to kill you," Ron said. "That's not your fault."

"It might not be my fault," Harry said, though he knew it was. "But it's still because of me and you shouldn't have to put up with it."

"I'll put up with what I want, thanks," Ron said. "Even if I have to get chased by giant fucking spiders every now and then. Now can we talk about how you're not upset with me about Scabbers."

"That wasn't your fault!" Harry exclaimed. "How were you supposed to know your rat was really an evil animagus?"

"Gee, I don't know," Ron said. "But I bet there were a bunch of signs over the years that I missed."

"Yeah well I missed them too," Harry insisted. "And my parents must have missed a bunch of signs, because he tricked them also."

"How are you not freaking out about the fact that I've been feeding the guy who betrayed them rat treats for years," Ron said.

"I've tasted those, remember?" Harry said, recalling a stupid night of truth or dare in the dorm. He'd lied about a lot. "I'm pretty sure you weren't doing him any favors."

"You're really not mad about the whole thing?" Ron asked.

"It wasn't your fault," Harry said.

"I could have prevented that whole kidnapping," Ron said. "Then that prick wouldn't have thought you were a werewolf and attacked you later. You've been in the infirmary twice because of me this year."

"That was Pettigrew and Eckelson," Harry said. "Who would even think that the pet rat that's been in their family since they were a toddler was really a grown man. It wasn't your fault. None of that was your fault."

They sat in silence for a moment under the fairy lights. Ron looked a bit stubborn.

"I guess we should both keep that in mind then," Ron said.

Harry stared at his lap before he shook his head, his mistakes weren't forgivable. He was at fault. Ron didn't understand that somehow. He didn't know.

"I killed that woman," Harry choked out miserably. "Ms. Adler." The words just came out, and he couldn't take them back. He couldn't look Ron in the eyes under the dancing lights.

"What are you talking about?" Ron asked. "The lady Greyback killed? Why would you even say that."

"I didn't have my wand," Harry said. "I was so stupid. I didn't even have my wand, but I got my hands on his, while he was attacking her. I had his wand and I tried to petrify him, but nothing happened. Then he attacked me again and I just dropped it. I could have at least broken it, but I just… She was bloody all over. He's got his teeth sharpened to points and he bit her all over, but she kept trying to save me. He got off of me so he could deal with her and he had his wand because I bloody well dropped it and it happened so fast."

"Yeah," Ron said. "Greyback killed her, not you."

"I let him," Harry said. "I had his wand; it should have been over."

"You don't know if you're even a passable match for his wand," Ron said. "And magic's hard enough to do in class, you think you can just do a perfect spell in the middle of a fight after all that with someone else's wand. Have you ever even done that? All that crazy stuff we've done, how often did it involve slinging spells in the middle of it all? It wasn't your fault."

"I had his wand," Harry said.

"Yeah, well you may have done some awesome stuff but you're still just thirteen. You can't expect to do every single thing right. You can't take responsibility for what a psycho killer does," Ron said passionately.

"I had his wand," Harry said again, his voice choking, and he hid his face from Ron.

The bed shifted as Ron moved to sit next to Harry and throw an arm over his shoulder. Harry wanted to shrug it off almost as much as he wanted to grab his friend and bury his face in his shoulder. He wanted to ask Ron how he could touch someone as messed up as he was; a wizard who let defenseless muggle women die, a freak who ruined everything, a disgusting boy hidden out of sight. He felt like he was choking on all the things he couldn't say.

He almost gasped in relief when he felt it; his mother's love. Her protection over him. It didn't always come. Not for every misery, nor for every tear, but it came that night as he was hugged by his friend and he felt assured that there was something about him that Ron must like. Some redeeming quality. Something that his mother could have loved and others could see too, despite everything else. Now he did turn and return the hug that Ron was giving him, even as he still cried, even if at any other time he would have been horrified at the situation he found himself in.

"You did your best," Ron said. "I know you did, but you were facing a wizard that spent decades evading top Aurors. You've been training and next time, your best is going to be way better. It wasn't your fault, and you'll be ready next time."

"She saved me," Harry said, his voice muffled by Ron's shoulder.

"She's a saint," Ron said. "And I bet she wouldn't want you upset like this."

"She would've been a Gryffindor," Harry said.

"Heart of a lion," Ron said.

"I can't stop seeing it," Harry said.

"How long have you been feeling like this?" Ron asked, after Harry had calmed down a bit.

"A bit, I guess," Harry shrugged, pulling away to lean back against the headboard, Ron's arm still around his shoulder. "It's been worse lately. I just keep thinking I could have saved her."

"Do you think it might have anything to do with all the quality time you've been spending with a dementor lately?" Ron asked, referring to the boggart in Professor Lupin's office.

Harry shrugged, thinking about all the times he had relived that moment the past few weeks. All of the things he had re-experienced since school had started.

"I need to learn that spell," Harry said.

"You know most people go their whole lives never coming across a dementor," Ron said. "You could probably avoid them the rest of the school year. The only thing you need that spell for is to protect you from dementors but learning that stupid spell is exposing you to them more than you'd ever be exposed otherwise."

"I can't be vulnerable like that," Harry said. "I pass out, I'm defenseless. I have to do this."

"Yeah, well how about you take a break for a while," Ron said. "You've seemed down for a bit, and I've mostly been thinking it's all the stupid stuff that's happened, but I really doubt your lessons are helping anything."

Harry was silent for a bit.

"Just take a couple of weeks off," Ron said. "See how you feel."

"I could try that," Harry said, though the concession made him feel as uneasy as he felt relieved to not have dementors to look forward to any time soon. "Sorry about the…" He waved vaguely at the damp spot on Ron's shoulder.

"Hey, what are friends for?" Ron asked.

Harry shook his head. "You really mean it about the best friend lottery?" Harry asked.

"Of course," Ron said. "I'm, like, a better person because of you."

"I think you're thinking about Hermione," Harry said.

"Nope," Ron said. "The hair's all wrong. I wouldn't know Hermione if it weren't for you. Wouldn't have a sister if it wasn't for you. Wouldn't have ever done anything heroic or noble. I'd have some friends who were okay and I'd be taking divination and I'd be missing a whole lot from my life."

"I'll always be happy I met you on the train," Harry said, feeling a great conviction in the words, needing desperately for Ron to know.

"Same here," Ron said. "Can we stop being weird? Not talking to each other, I mean. It's been like we've been strangers since Christmas. It's worrying Hermione."

"That would be good," Harry said, feeling relieved. "I'd like that. Hermione's got enough on her plate."

"I still want to know what her secret is," Ron said.

Harry smiled closing his eyes as his head slumped over onto Ron's shoulder. "She can split herself into multiple Hermiones, attend each class, then merge back at the end," he said.

"That's probably it," Ron said. "Wish I could do that."

"The big question is why she isn't telling us about it," Harry said.

"Oh that's easy," Ron said. "She knows we'd want to use it for rule breaking."

Harry smiled at that and leaned his head back against his pillow.

"I should let you get back to sleep," Ron said. "You look like you're going to nod off mid sentence.

"I'm pretty sure I'm the one keeping you up," Harry said.

"Turnabout's fair play," Ron said.

"Night Ron," Harry said. "Thanks."

"Night Harry," Ron said. "Next time, let's not go three weeks without talking about this stuff, yeah?"

"Sounds good," Harry said.

Ron crawled out leaving Harry in the dwindling lights. They hadn't even talked about the big stuff. But Ron didn't see, or maybe he never would see. Maybe it was just because he could ignore the fact that Harry was a freak. It didn't really matter though. Ron was the best friend he could ever possibly have, and Harry wouldn't give that up.

Harry set about clearing his mind; both for the practice and so that he could sleep.

Harry did his best to act normal the next day. He talked easily with Ron, he smiled a lot for Hermione. Ron was right, she had been worried about him and Harry shouldn't be worrying her. He did feel a lot better after having worked things out with Ron, but he still couldn't put the thought out of his mind. He had had the wand in his hand, and he hadn't been able to save her.

Harry had long felt certain that he would face Greyback again. He thought of the glove in his back pocket. The one he never used anymore, the one the twins thought had burned with the rest of their prototype. He thought of Professor Lupin's words about killing. He thought about a wand he had to get his hands on so that he could know. Greyback was going to come after him again, and Harry was either going to get his answers or he wasn't, he was going to stop Greyback or he wasn't, but he wasn't ever going to let Greyback have him. He thought about the glove in his back pocket.

IIIIIIIII

Harry had never talked about his relatives around Severus. That in itself should have been a red flag. Combined with what Minerva had said and the flashes he had seen in Harry's mind the day before, Severus was starting to have a very bad idea of Harry's home life. A home life that Harry was hiding.

"Mr. Weasley," Severus said. "Stay after the bell, we must discuss your most recent essay."

"Umm," Ronald said. "I've got to get to Defense, Professor. It's on the other end of the castle."

"I will write you a note," Severus said.

Harry and Ronald exchanged glances before Harry looked up and made a questioning eye contact with Severus which he ignored.

"Alright then," Ronald said, looking hesitant as he and his fellow classmates finished packing their books and notes away.

"You may go, Mr. Potter," Severus said when it looked like Harry would stay behind as well.

Harry frowned and looked to Ronald for confirmation who only shrugged. Harry left with Hermione Granger and Severus was alone with the boy.

"I have a question for you Mr. Weasley," Severus said. "What do you think about Harry returning to his relatives this coming summer."

Ronald's eyes widened and he looked at the door.

"I'm not sure what you mean, Professor," Ronald said.

"I will be forthright with you then, I do not believe you would have pressed Harry into pursuing a relationship with me, as you said you did, if you had not seen me as a better alternative to his current relations," Severus said. "And I would like to know why the wicked bat of the dungeons was a better guardian in your mind than the people who have raised him since he was an infant."

Ronald looked torn.

"I can't betray anything he's told me," Ronald said. "Not that he tells me much."

"But what he has told you is reason enough for concern?" Severus asked. "Or have you observed matters on your own that led you to these conclusions."

Ronald grabbed the lapel of his robes with his wand hand and worried at it with a conflicted look.

"Are you going to be his dad?" Ronald asked.

"I am his father," Severus said.

"That's not what I asked," Ronald said. "I know you're keeping things to yourselves and you're being discreet but are you ever going to acknowledge him? Or are you going to keep him your dirty little secret?"

"That's not what this is about," Severus said.

"Harry doesn't always show when things bother him," Ronald said. "So when something does show, you know it's bad. He doesn't always ask for what he wants either, so when he does, you know it means something to him. He didn't tell you you were his dad on a whim and he sure as hell got upset when he thought you were brushing him off. So let's just forget about secrets, do you want to be his dad? Do you want him to be your son?"

"I do," Severus said. "But the matter is more complicated than that. There are matters beyond either of our control that require discretion for now."

"Well he can discreetly live with you, can't he?" Ronald asked.

"He can," Severus said. "I would like that. Is there a good reason to remove him from the family he has known the past twelve years?"

"You should ask him," Ronald said. "Me personally, I'd like him to come live with me for the summer, but I know he won't go for that if he even suspects it'd put me in danger from Greyback. I'm still trying to convince him we could make it safe, but he's stubborn. You should know that too. He's stubborn, and sometimes he thinks he needs to keep things to himself so it's almost impossible to find out what's wrong. So he's stubborn and he won't stay with me so I'm asking you to take him in. You can infer from that what you want, Professor, but I can't tell you about the Dursley's."

"I see," Severus said.

"Did you by chance have anything for my essay?" Ronald asked.

"Yes," Severus said. "You completely left out three steps in the process. I'm sure you can find them and return the essay tomorrow for half credit." He held out the essay and a hall pass for the boy's next class.

Ronald grimaced and grabbed the paper.

"I want visitation over the summer," Ronald said on his way out. "Professor," he added belatedly.

Severus contemplated his home being invaded by Weasley and Granger over the summer before returning to the matter at hand. His conversation with Ronald had been telling, but completely non-substantive. The question was, what was Harry hiding and how could he find out.

He acknowledged that the matter would be moot if he just asked Harry to live with him during the summer, assuming he would agree. But it wasn't just a matter of removing Harry from a negative environment. If there was something untoward… He could still feel the burning rage he had felt after Harry had been attacked, and now the thought of him in the care of the ominous unknown left his hackles up. He wanted to know how his son had been raised, and he needed to know what part of his upbringing Harry felt he needed to keep a secret. What ugly truth had people thinking Severus was a better alternative to the status quo?

He didn't need to imagine very hard to think of what Harry might be hiding. He himself had kept many secrets as a child. Yet if he and Harry had shared similar upbringings, then it was clear that Harry had handled matters far better than he had, though that did not necessarily mean that he was handling matters well at all. Severus couldn't help him if he didn't know what was wrong.

IIIIIIIII

Steven had never really been camping. Not outside of a cabin anyway. The heightened senses that had driven him crazy in the wizarding world these past two years now seemed to make everything seem more real in a natural setting. He felt as though he was really alive for the first time in a long while standing in the deep wood. It was also nastily cold. He recast the heating charm on his boots.

"What's in the cooler?" he asked his companion, though he could already smell what it was.

"Blood," his companion said. "Human blood. Enough to keep us busy tonight."

"Where'd you get all that?" Steven asked, sure he didn't really want to know.

"Muggle medical waste," his companion said. "Buck up, it's been sterilized, you won't catch nothing. Now stop smelling the morning air and let's get a move on, and carry this. We've got a bit of work to do if you want your safe cage-free moon." He handed the cooler to Steven.

"I do want it," Steven said, just the thought of it had been keeping him going the past two weeks.

Steven had been a bit surprised when his companion had shown up that morning with a slightly different face. Still a glamor, but it was always difficult to do one exactly the same as before. He had thought that away from everyone else that his companion would drop the disguises but he was keeping it up apparently. He was pretty sure the name wasn't Jason either. Maybe that was normal for other werewolves, always keeping hidden. He had always tried to avoid other werewolves before so by and large, he felt he was rather an interloper in werewolf culture, if such a thing could be said to exist.

"But how does this work," Steven asked. "Are we putting the blood in a tree to keep the wolves occupied?"

"Nah, your wolf can climb a tree easy enough," his companion said. "The wolf wants to hunt, that's what we're giving you. First things first, we've got a lot of ground to ward if we want to keep out errant muggles. We don't have to worry about wizards, 'cause they all know not to go wandering through the woods the night of a full moon."

"How far are we going to ward?" Steven asked. "A wolf can probably get really far."

"Sure it can," his companion said. "But we're keeping things local, the hunt will be contained to about ten hectares. We keep the wards weak since they don't need to last past morning so don't worry about getting it all done."

"How do you keep the hunt contained?" Steven asked. "The wards that can keep a werewolf out need to be tied into structures."

"You need to think like a hunter," his companion said. "That's what you are now. We don't need to contain the wolves, because we're going to contain our prey. First things first, we put up wards. Next we clean out any lingering scents, then we put a tether on our prey to keep it in the warded area and we're set. Our prey will have a head start and we'll be chasing it all night long. By the time we're done, even if we do catch it, the area will be so crisscrossed with the scent of human blood we'll be running back and forth all night, never even tempted to leave. The wolf will follow the scent of human blood before anything else."

"What do you mean, prey?" Steven asked.

"You'll see," his companion said. "You need something fast though, something that's used to avoiding predators. There's a natural order in this world Steven, and you're at the top of it right now, over all the animals, and all the muggles, and all the wizards. We're at the top of the food chain, right this minute. Tonight though? Tonight we'll be usurped by our wolves. Tonight we will hunt as the most cunning and powerful predator. Tonight our wolves will run free, and you will know what it is like to wake up after a free moon."

Steven hadn't been feeling like he was at the top of anything lately, but here in the forest, away from the wizarding world, out where every sense sang with the thrill of the wild, Steven could almost feel it. He felt like he was young and about to lose his virginity all over again, the anticipation and the unknown and the thrill.

They spent a lot of time warding. It was a rather large area, and Steven could just imagine running through it in the moonlight. His companion handled cleansing the scents from the area with a complicated spell that Steven supposed he would have to learn at some point. Then came the time to prepare their prey.

It was beautiful and majestic in it's own way. It was a stag with a rather impressive set of antlers and Steven hadn't really known that deer grew that big.

"We're hunting this guy tonight?" Steven asked.

"Wishing it could be your old boss?" his companion asked with dark humor.

Steven laughed even as he shut down the guilty joy he got at the thought. "That would be cathartic I suppose," he said.

His companion laughed. "Not much of a chase though. Humans don't run very fast. They can be dangerous prey in their own right, but they don't make for a good chase. This one here though, this is a hunt."

"He seems a bit docile," Steven noted.

"That'll wear off by nightfall," his companion said. "Get that cooler open."

Steven opened the cooler and was a bit squicked by the sight of the blood. He handed the cooler to his companion who pulled out a bag for himself before handing another to Steven. A quick charm had both bags snipped open and Steven almost panicked when a bit of the blood sloshed onto his hand.

"Get it on the stag," his companion gruffed, pouring his bag along the haunches and rubbing it into the legs. Blood dripped red into the snow. "You're a predator, you revel in blood. Blood is strength. You are strong and tonight you will hunt this blood as you were meant to do. Now get started."

Steven nodded and started pouring the blood on the animal which barely registered that he was there. His hands were covered by the time he was done.

"Do one of your warming charms," his companion said. "We don't want it freezing."

Steven wiped his hands in the snow before pulling his wand out with numb fingers to perform the charm.

"What's next?" he asked.

"What's next is I treat you to a bonfire and a meal before we transform," his companion said. "You'll be burning a lot of calories tonight, and I've got some fireside stories to tell."

Steven wasn't sure what the point of stories was if he wouldn't remember them the next morning. Still though it sounded nice. Steven was pretty sure he was burning a lot of calories right then just keeping warm, the feast would be nice. He didn't fancy waking up the next morning naked and in the snow.

IIIIIIIII

Harry looked out the tower window at the moon that was just starting to peek over the mountains. He looked back to his Potions homework while he thought about Greyback, who was out there somewhere. He wondered if the past month had been a ruse. If he had just been traveling around so Harry would let his guard down. Perhaps he was lying in wait just that moment. He looked at Ron and Hermione, sitting across from him, and briefly fantasized about what he would do if Greyback attacked in that moment.

He'd been supposed to have a Patronus Charm lesson earlier in the afternoon, but he had taken it off as he had the previous week. Everyone had told him it was a good idea, and Harry definitely felt better than he had been. His nightmares were fewer, particularly the previous Saturday after he had had another Occlumency lesson. He thought there might be a connection.

That Saturday afternoon during their practice, Professor Snape had decided to pull back a bit. He used Active Legilimency again, but there were no questions and there were no deceptions. All Harry had to do was keep his mind clear while under the effects of the spell. It wasn't easy, but it also didn't feel like he was moments away from thinking the wrong thing. Professor Snape definitely wasn't rooting through Harry's mind. Harry had started clearing his mind before bed in the nights since and he thought it improved his sleep a bit. Not that he was very good at keeping his mind clear in the first place, but he had been practicing. He practiced every free moment he could.

Taking a couple Patornus Charm lessons off had helped him out, and he could see that clearer now that he had spent two weeks not getting any closer to the dementors than the quidditch pitch. Though he was spending a lot of time on quidditch. With their next game coming up the following Saturday, Ollie had ramped practices up considerably. The exertion was good for him.

"Your essay looks good Harry," Hermione said. "But you should add a paragraph about the effects of gold dust in rune mediums."

"I'll put it in tomorrow after Potions," Harry said. "I've got to finish this tonight."

"You should have done Potions first then," Hermione said.

"Then I'd have been tempted to go to bed after I finished instead of working on my Runes homework. This way I've got incentive," Harry said.

"Have you thought about asking him?" Ron asked, out of the blue. It had been a while since they had discussed Harry living with Professor Snape for the summer, but Harry knew what he was talking about.

"I've thought about it a lot actually," Harry said.

"You mean you've worried about it a lot," Ron said.

"It's a big step," Hermione said. "It's very normal to be worried about it. Though sometimes when you put something off too long it just gets harder. How is everything?"

Harry shrugged. "I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop I guess," he said.

"You're actually fairly likable, Harry," Hermione said. "Don't forget you won him over before you told him about the you-know-what. I don't think any shoes are going to be dropping."

'Tell that to the Dursleys,' Harry thought, though what he said was, "Yeah, you're probably right. But just because he likes me alright doesn't mean he's going to want me around all the time."

"Harry nobody wants their family around all the time," Ron said. "But if he's willing, and you're willing, then I figure you should go for it. Unless all this dark wizard stuff goes away and you can stay at my place. That would be way cooler. Let's keep in mind, though, that our goal here is, 'not the Dursleys.'"

"Just think about it Harry," Hermione said. "It should be sooner rather than later."

"I will," Harry said. "Though I'm not going to impress him much if I don't finish this homework now."

"Go on then," Ron said. "Just keep it in mind, yeah?"

As though it was ever far from mind at all.

IIIIIIIII

Steven came to, freezing, lying naked in the snow. He got up in a flash, dancing from foot to foot.

"Umm, umm," he tried to think. "Island Alchemist," he hollered as loud as he could, activating the summoning patch he'd gotten earlier in the week for his knapsack, which was hopefully not too far away. He hopped up and down and hugged himself, shivering uncontrollably for what seemed like an eternity before his bag zoomed up to him and he ripped it open to get at the heavy clothes inside.

It wasn't until he was warm and had caught his breath that he realized that he was standing under his own power, without any injuries, and only the lingering aches of the transformation to remind him of the night before. He hadn't bitten himself, or slammed himself into any cage doors, or scratched at his own face. He didn't have any vague memories of the impotent rage of a caged beast gnawing at it's own paws.

He remembered the hunt though. Nothing of substance, but he remembered the thrill of the chase and the scent of blood in the air. He could still feel the exhilaration of running free, a pack mate running next to him. Though, come to think of it, where was his companion?

Steven pulled his wand out of his bag and did a quick point me to find the man. Not a short hike later, he came upon his companion roasting something that smelled delicious over the fire. A slightly different face this morning than the last time he saw him. Steven wondered what he'd looked like the night before.

"Didn't get a kill last night," his companion said. "Always a pity, but no reason not to fill our bellies. Sit."

Steven joined him by the fire wondering what exactly had happened the day before. In the end though, it didn't matter. He felt alive.

"We can do this next month, right?" Steven asked.

His companion smiled a toothy grin at him.

IIIIIIIII

Harry stayed very busy between the Slytherin/Ravenclaw match and the upcoming Gryffindor/Ravenclaw match. Oliver had been training them every moment they could get, and Harry even once heard one of the twins commenting on the need to catch up on homework. Harry was almost surprised Professor McGonagall hadn't done anything about it, though he supposed that she wanted to win as much as everyone else did. The quidditch cup had stayed with Slytherin for too long.

Harry felt that he was getting a bit of better sleep at night since he had become a bit better at Occlumency; which was good since he was staying up late at night to get his homework done. He felt a bit like he was able to put away some of the things that had him on edge before he went to bed each night. Though he was still having issues on nights when he had Patronus Charm lessons. At least he was doing better at the charm. He didn't have anything corporeal or anything that was identifiable as an animal, but he was getting a lot better at staying conscious for a while and he definitely felt that he could feel some level of protection from the Patronus mist. Still, Ron was probably right about the regular contact not being good for him, but Harry felt as though he could see light at the other end of the tunnel and it would all be worth it when he managed to do the spell properly.

There were several Greyback sightings, and who knew if any of them were even legitimate, but still, no one had seen any of the other escapees or had any idea of what they might be doing. Most people were discounting the tale of a person who had claimed to have seen Belatrix Lestrange moonlighting as a stand up comedian in a Brisbon pub, which had popped up in one of the tabloids. Harry could almost pretend that they had all decided to settle down in the country somewhere and forget about dark lords and governmental overthrows, but if there was one theme in Harry's life it was that the mundane was not an option.

When the February match finally came up, Harry was both excited for the match and eager for the tempo of his life to slow down just a bit afterwards. Oliver had snuck him out a couple of times to watch the Ravenclaw practices. It wasn't against the rules to observe the other teams practice, but it was more fun to sneak.

The twins were laughing and joking as usual as they got ready to go out onto the pitch. Harry was fairly nervous though. Everyone had assured him that there wouldn't be any reason for Dementors to storm the pitch, but Harry still had a niggling fear that they would strike at the worst moment. His patronus still wasn't up to scratch. Harry went to peek out the door to the locker room at the waiting crowd. The stands were packed and Harry was glad to see Professor Snape in the teacher's section. It felt very filial, the thought that maybe he had come just to see Harry play.

"Get back over here, Harry," Oliver said. "I've only got a couple minutes to give my pep talk."

"You've got ten," George said.

"And that doesn't bode well for us," Fred said.

Oliver, usually boisterous, had a bout of nerves, but he got through several pointers on their opposing team before saying, "We've got to win, don't we, so go out there and give it your all."

"Just for you Ollie," Angelina said.

"Don't worry about us," Harry said, thinking about what Professor Snape had said about the scout. "Just focus on being the best keeper."

They flew out onto the pitch as Lee Jordan announced them from the stands. Lining up opposite their counterparts, they waited for the captains to shake hands and the quaffle to be tossed. Harry avoided the urge to look around for the snitch. It was considered gauche for the Seekers to start looking before the match started.

Opposite Harry, the Ravenclaw Seeker, Cho Chang gave him a friendly smile that seemed out of place in the highly charged and competitive atmosphere. Harry smiled awkwardly and waved, unsure if that was what he was supposed to do in that situation.

"Oh, come on Harry," Fred said to his left, sounding exasperated.

Harry turned to look at him questioningly just as the quaffle was tossed and everyone was in action. He heard the bludgers being enthusiastically released from their brass strapped cages and the game was quickly in motion. Harry was hunting for the snitch in earnest. A quick catch would ensure a solid victory, and they needed a solid victory. Winning was important, but so too was the point spread.

Gryffindor kept a narrow lead in the beginning but started to pull further and further ahead as the game wore on. Harry thought that in part, it was really a matter of endurance, and Gryffindor had just trained harder. Today they'd be showing off not only their skill but their dedication to the game. As much as Harry had wanted a quick catch, he was glad they got to show off.

Harry kept himself busy looking for the snitch and interfering with the Ravenclaw chasers. He even drew the bludgers away a couple of times and had occasion to need his gauntlets on one of them. The odd thing was that he seemed to run into Cho Chang a lot more than he was used to crossing paths with the opposing team’s seeker. She'd smile at him every time they passed. Gryffindor was sixty points in the lead when Harry spotted the snitch. He noticed Cho Chang. She was a bit closer to the snitch and just a bit off to the right of his vector towards it, but Harry was sure he was fast enough. He started moving towards it, hoping he could get closer before it or Cho Chang noticed.

Cho Chang spotted him and likely narrowed in on his focus. She spotted the snitch and perhaps by chance, the snitch seemed to become aware of their attention right then because it darted away. Harry darted forward. Cho Chang did too, but not towards the snitch. The older girl interposed herself right in his path, obstructing his sight and forcing him to do a barrel roll underneath her. By the time he had gotten himself back on course, the snitch had disappeared.

"Next time, knock her off her broom, Harry," he heard Oliver call out.

Harry looked back at Cho, who was grinning at him. She had known she couldn't beat him to the snitch, positioned as they were, so she had blocked him rather than trying to beat him to the catch.

The game kept going around them, and Harry was soon off looking for the snitch again. The scores kept rising, and Gryffindor kept pulling further and further ahead. If the game wore on too much longer, it might not matter who caught the snitch. The issue was though, that Cho had started cutting ahead of Harry in each of his search patterns planning to either block him, or use the difference in distance to her advantage. If Harry were facing an opponent with a faster broom he would look for the snitch on his own, so that there would be less of a chance of a chase. Though Harry's two year old Nimbus wasn't that much faster than Cho's new Comet. Harry could either pick up the pace of his search pattern or convince Cho that marking him was a mistake, and speeding up would make it easier for him to miss the Snitch. Cho was splitting her attention between looking for the snitch herself and keeping an eye on Harry.

Without missing a beat, Harry broke off and launched himself at the ground. He didn't need to look back to know that Cho was right behind him diving towards the ground. Harry broke the dive a bit sooner than he would have if he were just doing stunts on his own. Cho dove past Harry and struggled a bit to right herself before she got too close to the ground. Harry looked down at her as she looked up. She wasn't smiling anymore. Harry waved again. A moment later he was dodging a bludger. It was as he was righting himself that he saw the snitch, flying directly in the wake of the bludger. He took off after both balls and nearly had his head taken off when one of the Ravenclaw Beaters hit the bludger he was chasing right back at him from only a few meters away. It was his gauntleted forearm that took the brunt of the impact, instead of his head, though he was sent spinning. Of course he lost sight of the snitch, he looked around frantically for a moment with his arm clutched to his chest.

The same bludger was sent back to the offending beater with extreme prejudice by Fred a moment later. The Ravenclaw ducked it rather than trying to hit it anywhere. Harry meanwhile figured that he had lost the snitch and resumed his search with one arm clutched to his chest. It didn't feel broken, but it felt a bit like hitting his funny bone, only painful, and that feeling wasn't going away.

Harry resumed his search. He felt a bit awkward flying with only one arm, but he kept his spirits up. It was an important match. He kept harrying the Ravenclaw chasers and drawing away bludgers. After a while though, he began to wonder how long it was going to be before the snitch was spotted again. Gryffindor kept pulling up further and further, but Harry was starting to get hungry, which meant it was well past lunch already. They'd been flying for a rather long while.

Harry started to think there might be something wrong with his arm. The pins and needles were gone, but he felt a lump in the middle of his forearm that seemed to be pulsing madly. Had he broken it? It didn't feel like any of the times he'd broken a bone. He was tempted to ask for a timeout so Madame Pomfrey could check. He paused a moment so he could actually look at it. He pulled his arm away from his chest so he could pull up his sleeve and the golden snitch fell into his lap. Harry stared at it for a moment in shock. It looked like it had gotten caught up with the bludger, one wing was completely smashed and the other wasn't looking too good either. He barely heard the bludger that had decided to unseat the player that had stopped in the middle of the pitch. He barely got out of the way either. He grabbed the snitch out of his lap and held it up in the air, sheepishly. They'd won an hour and a half ago by Harry's estimate.

IIIIIIIII

Severus had never been to Privet Drive before, though he knew it's location for emergency purposes. There was no emergency, but Severus thought that a visit was long past overdue. He strode up the walkway of Privet Drive eyeing the ordinary houses with their ordinary lawns. Each lot only a slight variant on the one next to it. He sneered at the reminder that a much younger version of himself had been very envious of people who lived in such houses.

Number four looked much like all of the houses around it. Nothing to say that a wizard lived there over the summer, much less the boy-who-lived. Though he supposed that was much the point.

Severus began occluding before he knocked on the door; he wasn't expecting anything good and it would be best if he kept himself in check. It was a bit later in the day than he had thought to come. His usual lab time had had to be rescheduled after the quidditch game the day prior had run over. Though it didn't matter, as he had not announced his visit ahead of time. A woman who was unmistakably Petunia Evans opened the door.

"Petunia," he greeted politely. Civility for now, at least.

"You," Petunia said accusingly, recognizing him instantly.

"Me," Severus agreed.

"We already agreed to take him back," Petunia said. "What does your sort want now."

Severus didn't let the surprise show. What did she mean 'take him back.'

"Why Petunia I'm only here to catch up with an old friend," Severus said.

"You have never been a friend of mine," Petunia said, and it was as though they were both twelve again. Petunia had nothing but spite and malice in her gaze as she looked at him.

"True," Severus said. "I am tasked with Mr. Potter's safety. I have come here to check on his protections."

"Well those things are in place aren't they?" Petunia asked. "No one's ever had to come in before."

"After what happened this previous summer, we felt it best to check," Severus said. "No reason to take chances."

"All your world has ever done is put my family in danger," Petunia said.

"Then let me in to check a few things," Severus said. "For your family's safety."

Petunia sniffed, looked around for anyone out on the street or looking through windows, and then stood back to let him in.

"Are your husband and son at home?" Severus asked.

"Dudley is away at school, and Vernon's with a client at golf," Petunia said. "It's for the best, I wouldn't want either one of them meeting you."

"Afraid I'll tell embarrassing tales?" Severus asked.

"What do you need to do?" Petunia asked, clearly not trying to mask impatience. "I don't wan't any of that hocus pocus in my house, and the sooner you leave the better."

"I will merely be assessing the protections," Severus said. "We wish to make sure everyone feels secure. It would not do to have a repeat of last summer."

"Secure?" Petunia asked. "Oh yes I've always felt secure having one of your lot in my house, around my son. You people come by, pat us on the head and tell us not to worry our silly little heads and think that everything's all right. That whole world of yours, and everyone in it is just as arrogant and condescending as you ever were."

"Everyone you say," Severus said. "So how has it been, raising Lily's son?"

He pulled out his wand and started muttering basic detection charms. Petunia's face grew pinched when she saw the wand but it became more so as she spoke.

"We never asked for him," she said accusingly. "Our family was perfect before he came along. Why do you even care? She's gone, she left you long before she got herself blown up, so why do you even care if the same doesn't happen to him?"

"I don't care," Severus said. "I am merely doing my job. One mustn't live in the past Petunia."

Petunia turned her nose up at him.

"Ruined a perfect family, did he?" Severus asked.

"We are not ruined," Petunia said. "He tried, oh how he tried, but I wouldn't let him succeed, not like Lily."

"Does your husband share your view?" Severus asked, continuing with his pointless charms.

"Of course he does," Petunia said. "He's a sensible man. He doesn't put up with your nonsense."

"Knowing the boy's father, it must have been hard keeping a child like that in check," Severus said.

"We managed well enough," Petunia said. "Is this going to take much longer? You've done a dozen of those… things already."

"Almost done Petunia," Severus said. "I need to see his room."

Petunia looked nervous. "His room? Whatever for?"

"Well I could explain to you the magical theory behind protection wards, but you did seem to want me vacated with all due haste. It would be much faster if you just showed me and I could take my leave."

"Well you should take your leave now," Petunia said. "Your- wards are fine. I won't have you doing your mumbo jumbo next to my Dudley's room."

"This is quite necessary, Petunia," Severus said. "And it will only take one moment. Though if you will not show me. Tempus Locatum Harry James Potter." His wand, placed over his palm, pointed towards the stairs. The spell wasn't meant to find bedrooms exactly, but it did show where one spent the most time, and in a house, that was typically the bedroom. He turned and started walking up, only to have his wand start pointing down. 'The basement?' he wondered. He walked back down the stairs and paid more careful attention to it's movement.

"I really must insist…" Petunia said as Severus' wand pointed to a short doorway on the side of the staircase. It had a lock on the outside, but it wasn't at that moment locked. He opened the door, not sure what he would find.

There were a few file boxes and some cleaning supplies, but underneath it all was clearly a child's cot. A few charms had the boxes out into the hall and Severus crouched down to look inside. The space was small, and besides a few crayon drawings on the slats of the stairs above, there was little to say that his son had spent more time in this cupboard than in any other room in this house. There were bloodstains on the cot.

"That's not his bedroom," Petunia said, and all of her previous gall and spite were gone.

"Not anymore I suspect," Severus said. "Are you going to show me, or must I go looking?"

"We never wanted him," Petunia said, and it wasn't accusative this time.

Severus gestured her on with his arm. She walked past him and went up the stairs. Severus followed. They stopped outside of a room with several locks on the outside of the door, which had a cat flap at the bottom. Like the cupboard under the stairs, this door was not currently locked. He didn't really know what he was expecting, but the completely spartan room fit with everything else. The room was empty besides a dresser, a bed, a chair, and a mirror. Severus gestured for Petunia to precede him before he walked in himself. There was blood in here too, all of it had been cleaned, but some traces never came out if you didn't clean it properly. A spot on the floorboard here, a smear on the bed frame there, and a dozen places besides.

"Tell me Petunia," Severus said, dropping all pretext of detached curiosity. "How did you discipline Harry when he was young?"

He gave that question a moment to set in.

"Legilimens," he hissed.

Legilimency wasn't like viewing a memory in a pensieve. The pensieve's magic could turn even the most fragmented of memories into an immersive experience. Memories were by their very nature, though, fragmentary and heavily influenced by the one remembering them. Petunia's first memory was just a shard.

"Worthless boy," Petunia spat a moment before her hand cracked against his cheek. The boy looked up at her with those pathetic sad eyes, his hand coming up to his cheek and his lips formed a silent 'oh.'

Severus snagged onto that link, those eyes, and followed it, taking him to more memories. He felt the contempt and the malicious spite in one memory and followed it to the next. He saw slaps and hair pulls and twisted ears on the way to the cupboard under the stairs.

"No food for a week," Petunia hissed through the grate on the door. "And just wait till your uncle gets home."

Severus followed the thought about the husband and found himself in a memory of Petunia in her son's room, reading him a story. Vernon was a bit louder than usual this time, the boy at least could be quiet, but he had crossed a line with that report card. Lily had always stolen their parents affection and she could just see the boy trying to do the same to her Dudders and she would not have it. He had probably cheated anyways. She would have to tell his teacher.

The memory changed.

"He's a chronic liar, I'm afraid," Petunia told Ms. Druthers. "I love him to bits, and we've been working with him, but something's just not right there, not after that car crash. He'll always push boundaries if he thinks he can get away with it."

"Car crash you say?" Ms. Druthers asked.

"Yes, you've probably noticed the scar on his forehead, brain trauma. It was his father," Petunia said. "Drunk driving I'm afraid. That was the way for the both of them. Of course we begged Lily to stop drinking while she was pregnant."

Ms. Druthers gasped.

There was more. There was so much more. There was a little boy, clothes soaked from the rain, being shoved into a cupboard while his family watched the telly as if he was not there. There was rotten food for dinner and good food thrown out in front of a hungry child who had just burned himself on the stove. There was a cupboard door being slammed shut over and over like the beating of a drum.

There were a litany of words like 'worthless'; clumsy fool, idiot boy, ungrateful monster. The word that kept coming up though was 'freak.'

"Of course she didn't," Petunia said. "How could anyone love a freak like you?"

"Freaks don't deserve bedtime stories," Petunia said.

"Santa doesn't bring presents to freaks," Petunia said. "And don't ask questions."

'Don't ask questions,' came up a lot too, as did, 'You should be grateful.'

"You should be grateful I bother," Petunia said, ruler in hand. "Someone has to make sure you don't grow up to be just as worthless as your parents were.

"You should be grateful I didn't drop you off at an orphanage," Petunia said. "Do you know what happens to worthless freaks like you there? You'd realize your Uncle's been going easy on you. And don't even get me started on the food we've wasted on you."

"You should be grateful to get anything," Petunia said. "With how you've ruined everything I shouldn't give you a single bite. But you do just ruin everything, don't you, so I don't expect much, do I? You should be grateful for that also."

Severus pulled out from her mind and regained awareness of the room. Petunia had fallen to her knees clutching her head.

"What did you do to me?!" she shrieked.

"Nothing an Asprin won't fix," Severus snarled, keeping his mind as clear as he could under the circumstances. "You should be grateful. Your death would complicate matters for your nephew."

Severus stopped in an old wood before he returned to the castle. He leveled destruction at everything he could see.

"Tell me you didn't know," Severus said without preamble as he entered the headmaster's office. It had been a long time since he had been this angry with the Headmaster.

"You must forgive me, Severus, for not knowing whatever it is I should not know," the Headmaster said, leveling Severus a questioning and admonishing look.

"Tell me that you didn't know that my son was starved, beaten, and locked up in a cupboard until he came to Hogwarts," Severus said.

He should get used to seeing the headmaster surprised. It seemed to happen more often of late.

"What has happened Severus?" the Headmaster asked.

"I visited Petunia," Severus said. "I found reason enough to find out if my son was safe in his home."

"I see," the Headmaster said.

"Did you know?" Severus asked.

"I did not," the Headmaster said. "Though I will admit that I should have. I did know that they did not get along. I knew that there was bad blood. I told myself that keeping Harry alive was more important, though if I had known…"

"He will live with me," Severus said. "From now on, he doesn't go back there. He never goes back there. I will tear that house down if I have to to make sure he doesn't."

"Harry will not go back, but your cover Severus…" the Headmaster began.

"It can be a secret," Severus said. "There is no reason for anyone else to know."

"I had considered the possibility before," the Headmaster said. "When I first learned that you were Harry's father. I have been attempting to find a manner to extend his mother's protection through you."

"Through me?" Severus asked.

"Blood magic works through resonance," the Headmaster said. "Petunia Dursley's blood resonated with her sister's providing the avenue by which I extended the blood protection. From Lily, to Petunia, to Harry. It becomes a bit more contrived when we try to channel that protection through you. In this instance the connection from Lily would go through Harry, to his blood connection to you, then back from you to Harry. I believe it can be done, but it will take time to work matters out."

"If you can carry the resonance from Lily to Harry then why am I needed at all?" Severus asked.

"It is a protection," the Headmaster said. "It requires a protector."

"Petunia did not protect him," Severus said.

"She accepted the task, she brought him into her home; that was enough for the ritual," the headmaster said. "Whatever else happened in that house did not change that."

"Why did you think that that was the only way to protect him?" Severus asked. "He could have been safe elsewhere."

"Those wards have kept him safe from several attempts on his life," the Headmaster said.

"There were many children in danger during the war, you never went so far for them," Severus said. "Harry is the boy-who-lived, but that wouldn't matter for your plans. For any other child at risk you would have found a better alternative than the Dursleys, why were the blood wards so important. If you knew they did not love him, why did the wards matter? He could have been hidden properly elsewhere, where wards would not have mattered. There's something more."

The headmaster gave him a long assessing look before sighing.

"I have always led you to believe that the prophesy played itself out that night, Severus" the headmaster said. "But the truth of the matter is that the prophesy is yet to be complete. I believe that that protection is essential, both to protecting Harry and to defeating Voldemort for good."

Severus' blood ran cold. "Tell me the Prophesy," he demanded. That damned prophesy had already killed Lily and damned him. What more would it take.

"It is important that I don't," the Headmaster said. "Prophesies are meant to be heard by those who hear them. This prophesy is not done and the outcome is not set. Interference could affect who comes out the other end. I do trust you Severus, but the remainder of the prophesy must remain hidden at all cost."

"You intend for Harry to face the Dark Lord?" Severus asked, aghast.

"I intend for Harry to survive his encounters with Voldemort," the Headmaster said. "As Tom will surely seek out Harry again and again until one of them is dead. The prophesy doesn't matter in that regard. Our goal is the same regardless. Voldemort will seek Harry out, regardless."

"Harry needs to be prepared," Severus said. "He doesn't even know."

"There is time Severus," the Headmaster said. "Harry is thirteen, he is not a soldier."

"He's a target," Severus said. "And he is my son. If this is all being dictated by a prophesy then I already know I can't protect him ultimately. Not if fate guarantees they clash. I need to prepare him."

"I have been carefully planning for the past many years for Harry's survival, Severus," the Headmaster said.

"I assume the plan never included me being his father," Severus said.

"No, it did not," the Headmaster said. "I have been happy for you, for the both of you, even as I have struggled to make adjustments."

"I don't need adjustments," Severus said. "I need for you to treat me like I am his father. He is my son and I need to be able to protect him. I need to prepare him."

The headmaster sighed. "This is all very new for you, Severus. For the both of you. I am heartened to see you taking to fatherhood so well. Though you hold no legal guardianship over Harry as of now, I will start treating you as though you do.

"Keep in mind, though," the headmaster said. "That Harry is a very independent boy. From what you have told me just now it is very unlikely that he has ever had an appropriate father figure. It is likely that he has often suffered under authority and he is used to managing on his own, likely prides himself for that. If you wish to be Harry's guardian, it may be best to ease him into the matter.

"Are you trying to tell me not to come on too strong?" Severus asked sardonically.

"In a manner of speaking," the Headmaster said. "Is there anything I should be aware of in regards to your visit to the Dursleys?"

Severus gave the Headmaster a grim smile. "Nothing more than some unpleasant charms upon their home to make their lives interesting. Harry does not need me in Azkaban for crimes against muggles."

"Very well," the Headmaster said. "You will need to give me some time. I must determine how to involve you in my plans for Harry's survival in the fight against Voldemort."

IIIIIIIII

Steven woke up half frozen on the early February morning in the woods. The weather was the worst part of transforming in the great outdoors. Or rather the one and only downside really. Everything else? He felt so alive. So free. He felt elated. He felt… full. He looked down upon himself and saw that he was covered in blood. He looked around panicked until he saw the deer. They had caught it sometime under the light of the full moon.

Steven felt… accomplished. More so than he had the week prior when he had gone hunting with his pack mate. That had been fun. Stalking his prey, bringing it down with a spell; but this. He had brought this animal down under his own power. He had chased it though the woods and he had brought it down. His pack mate was right. He was a predator, and last night had been his first kill, his first real kill. Struggling, he tried to recall any flashes of memory of the night prior. The thrill of the chase, the hunt, the scent of blood in the air, the feeling of flesh in his mouth. It had been a long time since he had felt that he had any power.

"You look like an idiot," his pack mate said, stalking into the clearing with a smug smirk. "I hope I didn't look like that my first time."

Steven just grinned at him.

IIIIIIIII

Something had changed, Harry thought, between him and Professor Snape. It was a good change, Harry thought. It might just be his imagination. The headmaster had called him to his office earlier in the month to tell Harry that he had found a work around for the blood wards. Harry would never have to go back again. Though the headmaster hadn't said where Harry would be staying over the summer, it left Harry wondering.

Harry had been putting a lot of thought into asking Professor Snape to take him in. Perhaps that was why he was imagining Professor Snape being more… fatherly, might not be the best word, but he felt that there was something more. Casual encouragements, pats on the shoulder, checking his homework; it wasn't anything really, but Harry had the feeling that something had changed and he took it as encouragement that things were working out. Which wasn't to say that he didn't still worry that it would all fall apart. The thought that things were becoming more just seemed to fuel those fears. That and the dementors. He couldn't forget the dementors. It didn't help that he was on his way to another lesson with Professor Lupin.

Harry thought that this might just be it though. He was feeling it. He had been since his last Occlumency lesson with Professor Snape. He had been getting better. They had taken things slow since they had started using Active Legilimency during the lessons, but Harry was really starting to feel like he was there, that he was getting to the point where he would be able to maintain focus in the face of a dementor. It helped that he was also lasting a lot longer under the sway of the dementor before he passed out. Perhaps given long enough he wouldn't pass out at all, but Harry would rather not get that much exposure.

"Ah, Harry," Professor Lupin greeted when Harry entered. "I haven't spoken to you since the game. How is Gryffindor feeling about their chances?"

"Pretty good," Harry said. "It would have been better if Hufflepuff had beaten Slytherin, but the point spread's still promising for us. I just need to catch the snitch at the right moment."

"Just under a month then until the big game," Professor Lupin said. "I'm supposed to be unbiased, but I don't mind telling you that I'll be rooting for a certain someone."

Harry grinned.

"How do you feel about today's lesson," Professor Lupin asked. "It's been a while since you've taken a session off."

"I feel good," Harry said. "Hermione has me working on self care. I'm supposed to do something fun or relaxing every day. I helped the twins with a certain activity earlier today."

If half of what his father had written him was true, or just a fraction of what Professor Lupin had told him, then the man wouldn't mind a bit of pranking in good fun. Charming the flagstones leading up to the teacher's lounge to each chime a different tone when stepped on was the sort of prank not even Hermione could frown at too much. Though hopefully Professors Snape and McGonagall would never find out about his involvement.

"Well I'm glad you're in good spirits," Professor Lupin said grinning at him mischievously. "Why don't you get yourself ready and we can begin."

Harry nodded and set about clearing his mind. At this point, clearing his mind was easy enough for a short period of time, as long as there wasn't anything heavily weighing on his mind or otherwise distracting him. He started focusing on his memory, the feeling of the protection, the love, while he separated everything else out; everything else that was associated with the night his parents died, keeping only that feeling of love and protection.

Even though it was just a memory, he let himself fall into it, that feeling; the proof that his mother had loved him. He buried himself in that memory before nodding to Professor Lupin that he was ready.

The dementor popped out of the wardrobe and the temperature in the room dropped considerably. Harry focused on his memory.

"Expecto Patronum," Harry cast, and there was an awful lot of white mist, he could feel the effects of the dementor diminish and he focused on his memory. "Expecto Patronum. Expecto Patronum."

"Not, Harry!" his mother pleaded. Halloween always came first during these sessions. He heard his mother die before he felt her protection.

That was the only memory he relived that time. He came to with that memory still very present in his mind. He didn't even wait for chocolate or rest. He focused on that feeling, still fresh, still there. He focused on his mother's love which had followed him his whole life, comforting him when he had needed it, always there. It wasn't just a moment, it was a lifetime of protection, of salvation. When he had had nothing, he had had his mother's love. He focused, not just on the feeling, but the concept of having never been completely alone.

"I'm ready to go again," Harry said, still slumped against Professor Lupin's desk.

"It's fairly soon," Professor Lupin said. "You should have some chocolate."

"I'm ready," Harry said, eyes closed, focusing on the memory.

Professor Lupin sighed. "Alright but then that's it for tonight."

Harry nodded. He thought it would be the last time also.

The wardrobe popped open but Harry didn't open his eyes to look at the dementor. There was something it could never take away from him.

"Expecto Patronum," Harry cast. He didn't need to see to know it had worked. He could feel it down to his bones. He felt his mother's power singing in his bones.

"Harry you need to open your eyes," Professor Lupin said.

Harry opened his eyes, and looked up at a silvery doe peering down at him. Harry gasped, his hand reaching out tentatively, afraid to touch, afraid to break the spell. His hand rested on the side of the doe's head and the next thing Harry knew he was reaching forward to hug her. He stayed like that for a while before his arms passed through nothingness and Harry slumped forward feeling completely drained.

"Are you alright?" Professor Lupin asked.

Harry nodded, unable to speak, but not feeling as if his silence was terrible.

"Your mother had the same patronus," Professor Lupin said. "She said it was to match your father's animagus form."

"Do you think she'd like that I had the same one?" Harry asked.

"Of course," Professor Lupin said. "And your father and godfather would have been boasting to everyone who would listen that you'd managed the patronus at thirteen. Well done, Harry, very well done indeed."

"Thank you very much, Professor," Harry said.

"Thank you for being a dedicated student," Professor Lupin said. "You make this very much worth it."

"I hate that you won't be coming back next year," Harry said.

"I will miss it myself," Professor Lupin said. "Though let's not talk as though the year is almost up. It's only mid-March. There's still plenty of time. There is still much I should like to teach you."

"Like what?" Harry asked.

"Like why it is a bad idea to prank the Slytherine Quidditch team the night before the big game," Professor Lupin said.

"You didn't," Harry said.

"We most certainly did," Professor Lupin said.

IIIIIIIII

Hermione and Ron were very excited when Harry told them about his patronus. They waited until the common room had emptied out that night before Harry showed them. He got a hug from Hermione and a slap on the back from Ron. Harry grinned at them. He felt lighter than he had in a long while. It was the next day as he was thinking that he would have to show Professor Snape his Patronus that he thought again about his summer arrangements.

Things were going well with the professor. It seemed more and more that things would stay that way. The thing was, that Harry liked things the way they were. It felt stable. It felt sustainable. Harry didn't know how things might change if their relationship progressed to a different level. If Professor Snape took him in, how long would it take for him to get where he was now, feeling like he knew where he stood with the man. He had said it a number of times before, but he just didn't know how well Professor Snape would tolerate him on a more fulltime basis. The Dursleys had taken him in. They must have wanted him at some point. How long had it been before they had decided that he had been a mistake? The first time he had done accidental magic? Or had it been something else? He wished he could remember back that far. What had been the last straw for the Dursleys?

It was only two and a half months though, Harry thought. Then back to normal. Harry could stay out from underfoot for ten weeks. He could show Professor Snape that he was self sufficient, not needy at all, and he could try as hard as he could to be… whatever it was Professor Snape was looking for in a ward. He could do that for ten weeks. It didn't have to be perfect. He just couldn't tank it. That was all he had to do.

Harry sighed. He could manage. He probably could. Or he could talk the Headmaster into letting him stay at Hogwarts. He would want Harry to be safe. Things could stay the same between Professor Snape and Harry. Things were really great the way they were. Harry shouldn't risk it. Come to think of it though, where did Professor Snape live over the summer? Did he live in the castle? Maybe they could live 'together,' but separate, in the castle. That could be a happy medium. He could spend time with the Professor, but not too much time, and he wouldn't be forcing the man to take care of him. He should find out where Professor Snape lived.

Potions came first that day, and Harry had to run a couple of occlumency exercises just to pay attention in class. By the end of the day, Harry was antsy to see Professor Snape. He threw on his invisibility cloak and made his way into the dungeons.

It wasn't just that he didn't want to be seen going too often into the dungeons. He was trying to avoid Eric Eckelson, who was always somewhere in the halls, it seemed, cleaning for Filch as a detention. He hadn't directly confronted Harry since he had come back from his suspension, but he always gave Harry a murderous glare when he saw him and Harry usually found himself tripped up or otherwise jinxed whenever he passed Eckelson in the hall. He never actually saw the older boy do it, but he knew it was him. He thought Eckelson was smart enough to not try anything serious, but Harry would rather not cross paths with him again when there was no one else around.

"Hey Professor," Harry said, when he entered Professor Snape's quarters.

"Hello Harry," Professor Snape said, Harry thought he looked nervous. "Ready for your weekend, I am sure."

"I'm always ready for the weekend," Harry said. "I've got something to show you."

"Have you now?" Professor Snape asked. "Is it full marks on your Ancient Runes test?"

"Well it wasn't full marks," Harry said. "But I did rather well, and this is better. Ready?"

"I'm sure I am," Professor Snape said.

"Okay," Harry said, pulling out his wand. "Um, here goes."

Harry focused on his mother’s love. "Expecto Patronum," Harry cast. He felt the protection build up inside of him and spring forth as an ethereal doe. He heard Professor Snape gasp. Just looking at his patronus made Harry feel wobbly kneed and giddy. He felt like he was on top of the world. He turned to see Professor Snape looking at the Patronus with a look of awe and longing.

Professor Snape drew his own wand.

"Expecto Pantronum," Professor Snape cast. Another silvery doe burst forth into the room, the two creatures turning towards one another.

"They're the same, " Harry said excitedly. He’d seen it just before Christmas, how could he have forgotten. He turned from the two Patroni to smile at Professor Snape. "That's so cool."

Suddenly Harry knew.

"I… I wanted to talk to you about this summer," he said, having not at all planned out how to actually have this conversation.

"Yes," Professor Snape said. "I have been wanting to talk to you as well, I know you will not be returning to your aunt and uncle. Perhaps I should start by saying that I paid a visit to your aunt."

Both patroni winked out.

"We just don't get along," Harry said immediately. "That's all. They don't like magic. That's all there was."

What had Professor Snape discovered? What did he know about Harry? What did Harry have to explain away?

"Harry, I know it's more than that you just didn't get along," Professor Snape said. "Your Aunt wasn't very good at hiding anything."

"Yeah," Harry said. "She talks like that about a lot of people. You should hear what she says about the neighbors. She just…" He didn't know what to say. What had Aunt Petunia told him about Harry. Harry didn't know what damage control was needed.

"What she said was plenty horrid, Harry," Professor Snape said and Harry could no longer look into those angry accusing eyes. "But there was worse I found in that house than that. I saw the cupboard under the stairs."

"Oh," Harry said. "That's…" There was a word a word for if anyone ever found out. What was the word? "A… agoraphobic… I was a little agoraphobic when I was small, I just liked small spaces was all. I have a bedroom. A proper normal bedroom."

"Yes," Professor Snape said. "With a good half dozen locks on it."

"They were worried for my safety," Harry said. "Because they knew people wanted to kill me."

"They only unlocked from the outside," Professor Snape said. "Enough Harry, I know everything." Harry paled. "Or I know enough. When I saw those locks, and that damned cat flap, and the blood… I legiliminzed your aunt. I saw more than enough."

"No," Harry said, but there was no denial he could make. He had told himself that he wouldn't let himself get close to Professor Snape unless the man could like him as he was, but he had never been able to show the man everything. He could only ever have hidden what the Dursley's had seen in him for so long. Had it only been his aunt?

"If you had said something," Professor Snape said.

"I know," Harry said, cutting him off. "I'm sorry, I know it wasn't fair. I could have avoided this. I know. Can't we just…"

"It's not about fair," Professor Snape said. "Fair would have been none of it happening."

Harry closed his eyes. He had known it was over when Professor Snape had said he had seen into Aunt Petunia's mind. Now the man wished that none of the past school year had happened.

"I know," Harry said, backing up. "I'm sorry, I'll just… I'll just go."

"Harry, we need to talk about this," Professor Snape. "There are some things I want to address. If this is another conversation you need to fortify yourself for then that's alright, but we do need to talk about this."

"Why?" Harry said. "I get it, you don't need to explain. I'm really sorry; you gave me a chance to back out and I didn't give you one. You don't owe me anything, you don't owe me an explanation. The Dursleys already gave me one. So I just really need to go and we can pretend… I just need to go."

"No," Professor Snape said. "We are not doing this again. I am not falling into this trap. We are clearly having different conversations with one another. I do believe you have wildly differing ideas of where this talk was going than I did and I am not going to do the whole thing where you avoid me and your friends come to scold me."

"What?" Harry asked.

"I do not wish for our relationship to end," Professor Snape said. "I have been happy getting to know you and I wish to continue to do so. I brought up your relatives because I felt that perhaps your upbringing with them may have colored your perception of a healthy guardian/child relationship and I wanted to address that with you before I asked you to come live with me. I know we talked about the fact that I could not acknowledge you publicly while the Dark Lord still lives, but I would very much like to take you in as my son, even if it must be in secret."

"Wh- Your son? You want me to live with you?" Harry asked. "I- but the Dursleys. You saw…me. You saw… You saw me through her eyes. Why would you want me. Why would you want me after seeing that. After seeing me. I.. I don't understand."

"What I saw was a disgusting woman who destroyed her relationship with the best person she had in her life," Professor Snape said.

Harry shook his head. "No," he said. "No, you don't understand. I… After I told you about the letter… You told me everything. You told me all the reasons I might not want you in my life, but I didn't do the same."

"Yes you did," Professor Snape said. "You told me dozens of things before you told me about the letter. I understood what you were doing. You wanted me to accept you before you would take that chance. I did accept you. I do accept you."

Harry shook his head. "I didn't tell you," he said. "I couldn't. That wasn't the worst. There were… There was worse. I knew I should tell you, I knew you'd figure it out, but I couldn't tell you and I…" Harry studied the ground in front of him. He couldn't have looked at Professor Snape then if his life had depended on it.

"Everyone knew, when I was younger," Harry said. "Everyone knew not to be my friend. Ron didn't. I didn't understand, I was so scarred, but… It felt so nice… When we met on the train. It was better than I had thought having a friend would be; better than I had imagined, but I was sure it would end soon. Ron would figure it out. But time went on and he didn't and I told myself that for all that Ron was the best friend I could have ever imagined that maybe there was something wrong with him; that he couldn't see me like everyone else did. Then Hermione came along and we made friends, but then too, Hermione had never really had friends before either, so she overlooked everything; she overlooks a lot. Everyone else got caught up in the boy-who-lived thing and then they'd go back and forth between seeing this idea they had about who I was and seeing me and hating me. But you; you'd always seen… my father. So when you stopped seeing him, I tried really hard to be a normal kid for you. I never let you see… I should have told you… like you told me."

"You don't owe me that," Professor Snape said emphatically. "I owed you that. You were placing your trust in me. You don't need to tell me everything you think is wrong with yourself. Though you can. So I can tell you not to worry about it. There's nothing wrong with you, Harry."

"Yes there is. I don't think I can tell you though," Harry said. "Not everything."

"And I told you you don't have to," Professor Snape said.

"You saw… you saw how much they hated me?" Harry asked.

"I saw that they were horrible people," Professor Snape said.

"I ruined their family," Harry said.

"They ruined themselves," Professor Snape said. "Harry, I've already made up my mind. I'll have you for my son if you'll have me."

Harry gaped at him, finally able to look up. "You… After all that, you want… me? As your son?"

"I do," Professor Snape said.

"I really don't understand," Harry said.

"That's alright," Professor Snape said. "Are you willing to give it a shot?"

"I don't know if I can," Harry said.

"Why not?" Professor Snape asked.

"Because what if it doesn't work out?" Harry asked.

"What if it does?" Professor Snape countered.

"That could be a big if," Harry said.

"I don't think it is," Professor Snape said. "I want to try and make this work Harry. You can't get anything in life if you don't take a chance. Are you willing to take a chance with me?"

"I… yeah," Harry said. "I am."

His dad smiled. Harry would keep the fantasy going as long as he could.

IIIIIIIIII

It was still cold when Steven woke up. Probably not actually freezing, but it was definitely too cold to be naked out in the woods very early in the morning. In spite of it though, he felt so energized, so full of life. There was blood all over him, he knew. He grinned, stretching his tired joints as he picked himself up. He felt satisfied. The hunt the night before must have been better than the previous month's. He cast his mind back, trying to remember any snippets of the night before. He remembered the smell of blood on the air, his howl in the night, the rush. He remembered the screaming.

The screaming. He broke into a sweat, even in the cold. He looked around frantically, and there it was. The body. The human body. Torn to shreds. Steven fell to his knees and started to heave, expelling the contents of his very full stomach.

"Now don't go wasting that," his companion said. "You had your fill last night. You sure worked for it."

"How can you say that?" Steven cried out, still transfixed by the mutilated corpse. "I ate… We ate… We… He's dead."

"Good riddance too," his companion said. "He was plenty annoying last week wasn't he. Not good for much besides prey. But then again, he was human, so that was a given."

"What?" Steven asked. "That asshole from the bar? How? This was an accident." He finally looked up at his companion.

"Not much of an accident," Fenrir Greyback said. "I'd had him marked since then. Charmed his shoe to be a portkey after you punched his lights out. That was a really good hit by the way. I kept telling you you had it in you."

"You're… You're Fenrir Greyback," Steven said to his companion, who no longer had any glamours on.

"Of course I am," Greyback said. "But you've known that for a while haven't you? You knew where this was going."

"I didn't," Steven said, shaking his head.

"Oh you didn't?" Greyback asked. "So I suppose you didn't say you wished we could be hunting that wizard who fired you instead of the deer last week. I guess you didn't laugh when I told you this prick here was the sort of prey that would scream like a girl under the full moon. You weren't just agreeing with me the other night that humans were below us."

"That was just talk," Steven said. "You've been tricking me."

"That was talk," Greyback said. "That was the wolf talking. Why were you looking at that corps like it was a person. That wasn't one of us. That was a human. We're not human. We're better than human. Do you think that swot ever shed a tear for eating a pork chop? There's an order here, and we're at the top. You felt it, didn't you? These past two years, you knew you were different. You knew you weren't one of them. The humans made you think you should be ashamed of it, but what other defense does a lesser being have when it is prey. They live and they die, in their pathetic, meaningless, weak worlds never knowing what it is like to truly be at the apex. What difference does it make if we carry one off to fulfill it's true purpose?"

"I just… I just need to go clear my head," Steven said. "I can't think about this right now." He was still covered in blood. He was still naked. There was still a body not three meters away. He still felt the thrill of the hunt.

"Oh no," Greyback said. "There's no time to go anywhere. Your training's just begun."