Whatever It Takes by SanctuaryAngel

Harry struggled to breathe.

Every inhale was a burning effort to draw in a breath, as Harry clasped his chest in desperation. His vision was blurred due to the lack of oxygen in his system, and he felt a cold hand grab hold of his forearm and pull him upright on the edge of his bed. Harry threw his hands on his knees trying to steady himself, leaning forward in order to maximize each breath, despite the room spinning nauseatingly around him. His mind was a blur, and he wasn't entirely sure if he escaped the intense nightmare he had just experienced. It felt like a vision all over again with the same intensity, but minus the burning scar and the prophetic snapshots, those dreams usually gave him.

"Potter, breathe! Focus!"

Harry's green eyes darted upward, feeling slight dizziness, as he noticed the black-clad form of Snape kneeling on the floor in front of him. Harry's breath was rapid, and he could not regain control. His chest felt like it was on fire; heavy as if it were filled with something other than air. He could feel his heart beating fast within his chest and the throb of the pulse in his neck. His body did not feel like his own.

"Clear your mind!"

Harry shook his head, feeling faint as he did so. The gradual pain in his head inhibited any rational train of thought at this present moment. At this point, he couldn't distinguish if his face were wet with tears or sweat, but he knew he looked like an awful mess. Finally glancing beyond the mass, he could see Hermione, Ginny, and Ron looking back at him beside Snape, with worry etched on their faces within the room.

Great, an audience. Harry shut his eyes and struggled to swallow back the rising bile in his throat.

"Potter, pay attention," Snape's voice became a soft drawl, but Harry had difficulty distinguishing his voice against the echo of the nightmare still carved within his mind, "Nod, if you can hear my voice."

His mind was clouded, and it felt like dozens of voices collectively yelling at him, and even the sound of his carotid pulse in his neck felt like drums pounding beside his ear. As opposed to the ringing that would not stop. Every sound felt amplified, and he struggled to distinguish the voice of Snape piercing through that.

Between a struggling breath, Harry finally nodded, clenching his fists so tightly that his knuckles were white.

"Good. Now, keep your eyes closed. Focus only on my voice," There was a slight pause as if Snape were waiting for a sign to continue or watching him with bated breath. Harry gradually began to feel uncomfortable, "Listen to my instructions – Keep your eyes closed, Potter! – Now…Envision something. A location. A peaceful one. A sanctuary, for lack of a better term. You are not required to tell -"

"- Sky. Flying, " Harry's voice was hoarse and dry.

There was a pause, before Snape continued, "Alright…That will be adequate. We'll proceed with that. You are more than adept on a broom. Focus on a clear day… " Snape's voice was oddly calming, and dare he admit it, soothing. "Now – Think of the stillness. No crowd. Just you and your broom. Push away all other thoughts within your mind. Try to only envision yourself in flight, and nothing else."

It reminded Harry of meditating, though he had never really experienced such a thing before.

This is rather embarrassing.

As if Snape was anticipating this thought process, he continued, "Concentrate, Potter. Don't allow your mind to deviate."

Blimey.

Harry nodded again, eyes still tightly shut, in his attempt to focus on anything else but the flash of green reverberating within his memory. Initially, all he could think of was Quidditch. But Snape insisted on something less chaotic. Instead, he tried to focus on the Quidditch pitch; emptied of the usual crowds within its stands, and devoured of the players circling the stadium. He tried to imagine rising up on his perch on his broomstick – his Firebolt. He tried to imagine a blue sky, with white clouds overhead. A slight breeze. A normal day. No disastrous weather conditions. No Dementors floating about. No Death Eaters after his head.

Just…emptiness. Silence. Peace.

"Focus on your breathing. Large breaths. Inhale…Exhale…" Snape initiated a count, and Harry tried to direct his efforts in breathing in unison with it, "Good. Very good. Keep holding onto that sanctuary you've painted within your mind, Potter. Adapt yourself to the sounds of that location."

Harry imagined himself flying upwards among the clouds; directing his broomstick to initiate loops and nosedives. He tried to imagine the Snitch fleeting from him like a tiny golden speck in the distance. He chased it – Finding himself speeding past the towers of Hogwarts. Over the Forbidden Forest. Skidding over the Black Lake…

Harry smiled.

He could feel his breathing begin to ease during his immersion into his painted sanctuary within his mind; his chest relaxing to all but a dull ache. Although his head hurt from the previously pounding headache, he began to feel more aware of his surroundings. His panic began to slowly ease, no longer threatening to suffocate him. He drew in one deep breath, and exhaled slowly, as he finally opened his eyes once again.

Blinking, Harry's vision returned to find Professor Snape still kneeling in front of him, watching him with bated breath. But as Snape watched Harry regain a sense of normalcy, Harry noticed his lips twitch to a small smile.

"Congratulations, Potter. You've accomplished the most basic form of Occlumency."

Harry's brow furrowed in confusion, as he watched Snape stand up on his feet. "Huh?"

"What was the first step to successfully learning Occlumency, Potter?"

"…Clear your mind?"

"Precisely. Your envisioned thought triumphed over your nightmare. You were able to push them away and focus on something positive. But in doing so, clearing it is first required."

Harry looked confused, still trying to settle his still-racing heart.

Snape paused in thought as he clicked his tongue in an attempt to bite back a sarcastic remark. Instead, his gaze lingered on Harry, trying to formulate a simple response, "Think of it like casting a Patronus against a Dementor attack, if you will."

"Why did I feel like I ran a marathon instead?"

"You were hyperventilating, Potter, " Snape softened his gaze, "We can…discuss that later. If you still have the elixir I gave you, I recommend three drops immediately." He glanced down at Harry's unkempt form, pausing before continuing, "Get yourself decent…I will be downstairs." Turning on his heel, Harry watched as the man disappeared past his friends and through the door, allowing his traveling cloak to billow behind him.

Once Snape was gone, Ginny rushed to Harry's side, and sat down beside him, throwing her arms over his shoulders. "Harry, we didn't know what to do. We heard you screaming, and we tried to wake you…" Harry felt her place a reassuring hand over his chest, finding well-needed comfort within her touch.

Ron shifted uneasily on the spot, "And I thought your scar burning seemed bad. I've never seen you freak out like that before. Wait, it's not your scar, is it?"

Instinctively, Harry reached for the scar still evident on his forehead, "No. Actually, it wasn't. Oddly enough."

"We were so worried, " Hermione leaned in close to Ron, "Snape was already here, luckily. An hour later, we heard an awful scream. We thought you were being attacked, or something."

Harry clenched his jaw, "It felt that way."

"Well, we'll let you sort yourself out and meet you downstairs, yeah?" Ron clasped Hermione's hand, and together, they exited the room.

Harry drew in a deep breath and shamefully buried his head in his hands, feeling overcome with exhaustion. He felt Ginny rest her head on his shoulder, and they sat there together in silence, losing all concept of time. Those moments of peace allowed him to come to terms with the events that just transpired, and the hold of which the nightmares he could not let go of. Snape's analogy of the Dementors made sense. Absorbing and soaking up all sense of self and allowing the soul to become consumed with images of terror so great, that it felt like dying all over again. The visions were so vivid, it felt like it was unfolding repeatedly, causing panic to take hold of his body, which did not feel like it was under his control.

It was the same nightmare he had since the battle of Hogwarts when everything technically came to a chaotic end. But this time felt so much stronger; like it was another entity entirely. The weeks following had the Gryffindor so afraid to fall asleep, that he may never wake up. Plagued with insomnia, he simply felt like a shadow of his former self. A shell. His mind was so consumed with stress and the events which have shaped his life, that his mind felt like it contained a fog that would not lift. It made him feel like a ghost, not part of the real world. And those thoughts feed into his soul, fuelling those nightmares so intensely.

He missed the person he was before Voldemort made it difficult for him to live a normal life.

Reaching over to his bedside table, he retrieved the Animo Silentium elixir and proceeded to administer three drops as instructed onto his tongue, allowing the pearly liquid to seep into his system. Soon enough, he could feel relief as the apparent brain fog lifted from his mind, clearing away any dark remnants that may still have lingered from the nightmare.

Ginny watched carefully as Harry re-corked the vial, "Does that really help?"

Twirling the vial within his sweaty palm, he turned to Ginny, "Yeah, it does. It…helps me to focus a little better."

"I just don't want to see you having to rely on that."

Harry nodded, "It's why I try not to use it often. But I can't stop these nightmares, Ginny. I don't know what else to do."

Ginny brushed a few strands of wayward hair from her face, tucking them back behind her ear, "Once we deal with these Death Eaters, we can both focus on, well…Us. If that's what you still want?"

Harry looked at Ginny, almost offended, "Of course I do. Don't you?"

"I do, Harry. I know it's difficult at the moment, with everything going on. It's tough on all of us, " Ginny reached out to clasp Harry's hand, looking saddened, as she looked back into Harry's green eyes, "I'm just worried about you. I'll always worry."

"I'm just sick of this. All of this. Not being able to move on, without – "

"- I get it, Harry. You don't need to explain it to me."

"I just feel bloody useless. I've been distant. Especially, to you. That's not fair on you when you've been trying to reach out to me, " Harry sighed, running a frustrated hand through his hair, "You're dealing with your own problems. I'm just being selfish."

"Don't be daft. You're not being selfish. I'm just giving you time."

"I don't want to keep pushing you away, Ginny. I'm sorry."

"Look, we both agreed to take a step back. We did, and now that Voldemort's gone, we can take another chance."

Harry nodded, "I know, it's just…I didn't want anything to happen to you."

"I know, " Ginny tilted her head over to the side, "Besides, I can handle myself, " She grinned. But in her attempt to break the ice, Harry still felt terrible.

"Ginny…"

Ginny shook her head, "Look, if you really need to hear it, I wasn't going to give up on you. I know when it's safe to, we can properly be together."

Harry bit his lip, "Are you sure…you still want to be with me? I understand if you don't…"

Ginny's rosy lips curved into a smile, warming Harry's heart just a little bit more, "Yes, Harry James Potter. I still want to be with you."

Feeling a sense of relief, Harry released a breath he didn't know he held, as he gazed up into her glossy brown eyes. These moments – lately it seems – were rare. He had been hesitant and distant with most of his friends, but Ginny above all, he was afraid to spend quality time with. Since coming to a mutual agreement before the battle of Hogwarts, they both decided it was for the best that they end their relationship on grounds during Voldemort's reign. Harry didn't want Ginny as a target, so they painfully decided to step away. They knew that once Voldemort was finally defeated, they would rekindle their relationship once more.

Harry never stopped wanting that, it was one of the few reasons he kept on fighting. For her. For a proper future.

Now that the threat has mostly dissipated, Harry had often wondered if it was safe enough to re-pursue it. He missed Ginny dearly, but admittedly, he had far too much else on his mind coming to terms with his grief. Of course, he still felt it necessary to give her the space she needed, especially after losing Fred. However, he longed for her company like this. It made everything else seem so, insignificant. Even for a little while. But even with Death Eaters still out there, he was still afraid for her life. Everyone he feels he gets remotely close to gets hurt or dies, and he didn't want that fate for her. If something were to happen to her, he didn't know what he would do with himself.

Harry found himself looking upon Ginny's freckled cheeks, as he felt a smile on his face. She reached out to place a hand over the side of his face, pulling him closer, as she leaned in to plant her lips softly upon his. For several moments, their lips touched, as Harry reached his hand and placed it over the base of her neck gently, feeling her long red hair, as he pulled her closer. Their kiss was tender, and soft, as their lips lingered together in bliss for what felt like an eternity. But eventually, as they parted, Harry tilted his head forward, leaning his forehead against hers lovingly. He felt comfortable and safe within her company, and for this moment, there was nowhere else he'd rather be.

He felt a shift, as Ginny leaned in to plant another kiss on his cheek, before standing up and removing her hair from her shoulder. She smiled, "Get organised, alright? I'll meet you downstairs."

Still slightly in a daze from that moment of happiness, Harry nodded, as he watched Ginny exit the room, and gently shut the door behind her. Suddenly, it felt cold again.

Pulling some clothes aside – slightly overworn and frayed, but he could not care any less – he gathered what he could and made his way to the bathroom to get himself cleaned up. He soaked himself in the shower, allowing the hot water to cleanse his pale, soft beige skin from the feeling of filth from his night sweats. He closed his eyes, allowing the water to wash over his face, doing his best to re-imagine his sanctuary of flight once again.

When this is all over, he wanted nothing more than to take his Firebolt out on Hogwarts grounds once again. It was too lovely of a thought to not eventually pursue once he felt safe in the skies again. Perhaps he can convince Ginny to fly with him.

Harry couldn't stop grinning at the wonderful thought.

Feeling the time was adequate enough for him, he stepped out of the shower, dried himself off, and changed into another set of clothes. Taking in a deep breath, he wandered down to the dining room, to find Ron, Hermione, and Ginny waiting for him, with Severus Snape oddly sitting a few seats away, opposite from them. Luna was also there, as she must have just arrived. They seemed to be in mid-conversation but stopped as soon as Harry entered.

Lowering his head, he took a spot next to Ginny and began helping himself to the steaming pot of coffee on the table, filling up a large ornate mug before him. He took a moment to inhale the caffeine he so desperately needed on a morning like this, and glanced around the room, trying to avoid meeting Professor Snape's gaze for the time being. After their last conversation, a few days ago, Harry still had mixed feeling about seeing him here. Despite that, he was also embarrassed enough by the wake-up call earlier in his panicked state, along with the impromptu Occlumency-meditation session. His head was still aching. "So, did I miss anything?"

Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat, avoiding Harry's gaze, while Ron bit his lip. Harry's face fell, as he looked to Snape for further information, trying his best to avoid his direct line of sight.

Snape clasped his hands on the table before him, before looking back at Harry, looking slightly stricken, "It has recently come to my attention, that Mr. Dean Thomas' parents were taken yesterday evening."

Almost choking on a sip, Harry placed down his mug, a little too forcefully on the table, sending a few splashes of coffee to hit the table, "…How?"

"The Headmistress alerted me late yesterday, upon distress from Mr. Thomas. He has reported them both missing at the Auror Office, thus, the Minister is also aware."

"Were they hurt?"

"It is uncertain. I accompanied Kingsley to scout the location once the Aurors left, but no such signs of struggle were noted. I believe his stepfather is a Muggle, am I correct?"

Ginny, looking worried, bit her lip as she responded, "Yes, he is. Do you think they should be reported by the Muggle authorities as well?"

The Potions Master paused in thought, expression stoic and unwavering, "I believe the Minister remains in liaison with the Muggle Prime Minister, but for now, Mr. Thomas remains under guard at Mr. Finnigan's residence. That, of which, has now been heavily warded."

"Well, if things go south, he can always come here, " Ron suggested, with a lazy shrug, "Both, if Seamus won't act like a prat."

Snape shot down a look of warning to Ron, upon his use of language, causing Ron to shift slightly uncomfortably in his seat. Upon a few passing moments, Harry watched as Snape's expression turned more concerning, as the man's eyes darted to each teenager in the room much like he used to do in class, his voice now commanding, "In light of these events, I must insist you all remain within the safety of these wards until it is deemed safe enough." He looked over to directly address Hermione, "Miss Granger, I have requested Kingsley to assign round-the-clock surveillance to your residence. If they are truly targeting Muggleborn families, then I am afraid you and your family are also at high risk."

Hermione looked upset, and nodded hastily, "…Alright. Yes, of course. Thank you, sir."

Snape lowered his head in light of the gesture until each heard the front door open and shut. There was a slight shuffle in the corridor, and they could hear the portrait of Mrs. Black yelling once again.

"Good heavens, we need to do something about that wretched portrait. One of these days that woman is going to give me a cardiac arrest – " McGonagall walked into the dining room adorned in her favorite emerald green robes and scanned the room, looking relieved to find Snape there, "Ah, good. You're here." She took notice of the somber faces of the students staring back at her, and frowned, "Given by your anxious expressions this time of day, I gather you informed them, Severus?"

Snape nodded, "I did."

With an exasperated sigh, McGonagall took a seat beside Snape, as she looked at her colleague, "I have instructed Filius and Horace to assist in re-stabilizing the wards at Hogwarts. The Aurors stationed there still remain on guard. They've reported nothing out of the ordinary, thus far."

"Do you need any further assistance with fortifying the castle shields, Minerva?"

"No, not at all. For now, I need you to remain here. It's far too risky for you out there now, Severus," McGonagall looked over at Harry, "As for you, Mr. Potter…you must do the same. "

"What – " Harry began to protest but was cut off immediately.

McGonagall glared at Harry sternly, "- No exceptions." She clasped her hands casually on her lap, "If we are in desperate need of assistance, we will inform you. For now, be grateful you are in a safe space. The Order must remain on guard. We cannot afford any more unnecessary casualties."

Ron cleared his throat, feeling awkward with two Professors in the room, "Do you think they'd be any way of, you know…tracking them? The Death Eaters?"

Frowning, Snape pursed his lips, "Tracking? Don't be absurd, Mr. Weasley. If there were an inking of a possibility, we'd pursue it. They are highly adept at covering their tracks. If they could be tracked, Aurors would have found them a long time ago."

"I know you would know sir, that's why I asked. Maybe there was another way? The Dark Mark..."

Hermione intercepted, "What he means, is that - " She shot Ron a warning look, silencing him for the moment, until she turned back to the Potions Professor, "- Perhaps we can formulate another way. Some, advanced incantation that may at least give us an area we could search? If they are not convening in wizarding areas, then they most likely will be hiding out in Muggle ones. That's a lot of ground to cover."

Snape leaned forward on the table, placing his hand's palm downwards in front of him in an effort to subdue his rising frustration, "It is impossible, Miss Granger. The Dark Mark is imbued with dark magic, thus providing an element of protection for the host against any method of detection. It is not only designed to summon but to essentially, cloak the host from such charms. The Dark Lord would have never made his followers an easy target."

"Not even the Avenseguim Charm will work?" Hermione questioned.

Snape leaned back in his chair, with a heavy sigh, "No, it will not. That requires a personal object of possession, one which they are discouraged from carrying for such reasons. I assure you; You cannot magically track a Death Eater. They move undetected – That is the point."

"What about, oh I dunno…Altering it?" Harry suggested, but suddenly all eyes were on him. That was probably a mistake.

Snape sneered, "Potter, that is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. The Dark Mark cannot be tampered with. That is dark magic, even beyond my limitations. If it could be tampered with, I will no longer have it. Regardless, I'd not be so keen to discover its ramifications."

"It was just an idea. I didn't say it was a good one."

"Potter – "

McGonagall cleared her throat a little too loudly and held up her hands to silence them, "Alright, enough. Settle down. Severus, it won't hurt to hear alternative ideas. However, those of which, unfortunately, is not plausible by any means, I'm afraid. We'll just have to seek them out the, well…Old-fashioned way. So to speak. We have no other choice."

There was a short silence between the group before someone else spoke again.

"…Professor McGonagall, " Ginny said.

"Yes, dear?"

"Will we still have the memorial at Hogwarts?"

McGonagall's face dropped, as she looked saddened, "I am afraid it will still be delayed. I cannot risk an attack happening there…Far too dangerous given the current circumstances. The Minister also agrees with that decision."

"Blimey, we can't even have a memorial yet, " Ron looked at McGonagall, glumly.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley. There is nothing else I can do, " McGonagall adjusted her cloak, as she rose from the table, "Speaking of which, I must get back to Hogwarts. I don't feel comfortable leaving it for too long. Apologies for the quick visit."

At that very moment, Neville Longbottom walked into the house and proceeded to the dining room. He stiffened slightly at the sight of the Potions Master but turned to give McGonagall a nervous smile, as he awkwardly made his way to one of the empty seats beside Ginny, trying his best to avert away from the Potion Master's gaze.

"Ah, Mr. Longbottom. How is Poppy?" McGonagall smiled at the sight of Neville entering the room.

Neville shrugged lightly, "She's alright. A little stressed over at St. Mungos, but grateful for all the extra help. It's been bonkers over there."

"I presume so, " McGonagall smiled, "Will you be considering pursuing a career as a Healer?"

Neville chuckled, "Oh, no. Definitely not. Just volunteering for now, but I am learning loads from Madam Pomfrey. But I still want to further pursue Herbology, though." Harry watched Neville trying his utmost best to still avoid Snape's gaze.

Harry watched as McGonagall clasped her hands together. Something she usually did when she was pleased, or proud. Or both. He glanced over quickly at Snape, who looked slightly uncomfortable and rigid, at the current display of the praise of Neville. Harry couldn't help but wonder if McGonagall was doing that on purpose to further tick off Snape, but all amusement aside, he was extremely proud of his friend. If there was one person Harry has known to have grown so much in confidence and skill, that person would most definitely be Neville. Without a shadow of a doubt.

"I'm very proud of you, Mr. Longbottom. All of you, " McGonagall smiled, "Had I known I'd ever be dueling side by side with you lot, I'd have taken better care to teach you. Nevertheless, you make me proud, " She turned to look at Snape, "Severus, you should be proud too. After all, they did well to carry the mantle. Wouldn't you agree?"

Snape's thoughts wavered slightly as he paused, but eventually, he gave a curt nod in response, "Considering the circumstances."

"Alright, I shall not linger any longer. Be safe, all of you – " McGonagall wandered out of the dining room and departed from Grimmauld Place.

"I like her, " Everyone's eyes darted to Luna; whom Harry apologetically forgot was still there. She often remained quiet, but Harry was always surprised by how much she still picks up in conversation. Luna shrugged, "I really do miss being at Hogwarts."

Taking the previous conversations to mind, Harry figured he'd finally muster up the courage to ask what they had discussed yesterday. Finishing off the coffee in his mug, he finally encouraged himself to look directly at Snape, "…Sir?"

Snape diverted his gaze back at Harry, and replied in a tone so lazy, Harry had the inkling he wasn't in the mood for such lectures, "Yes, Potter?"

"Can you, err – " Harry shifted slightly uncomfortably in his seat, "Teach us something about the wards? Or, anything…Else? While we're here."

That came out wrong.

The man stared at Harry with such intensity, that it was unpredictable if he was going to explode with rage, or not. Either way, Harry braced himself, but eventually, Snape curled his lips with much bitterness, "Are six years of teaching you within my classes, lost on you, Potter?"

Hermione's eyes widened, and Harry could have sworn Ron tried his best to suppress a chuckle.

"That obviously came out wrong, " Harry felt annoyed with himself, "What I meant, was…We want to learn more from you. Teach us something you wouldn't normally teach in class. If we are going to be stuck here for a while, might as well make it productive."

"Please, no potions, " Neville intercepted, but looked at Snape a little sheepish, as he released a nervous breath, "…No offense, sir."

Snape turned to narrow his eyes at Neville, "I daresay I do not fancy blowing up the basement on your accord, Longbottom."

"Me neither, to be honest…sir, " Neville shrugged, "Besides, I'd prefer to have a defense lesson that doesn't result in using the Cruciatus curse on a first-year."

Ouch.

Snape stiffened at the statement, as Harry observed, and he realised he felt rather responsible about that added task designated by Voldemort himself. Harry could have never imagined Snape to be Headmaster and after their infamous confrontation in the Great Hall, he figured that was also something unwillingly bestowed upon him. From his accounts by Neville and Ginny, Snape tried his best to avoid direct conflict but had no choice in overseeing the Carrows in their horrific acts. Unfortunately, that was beyond anyone's control at the time.

Still, Harry could tell Snape still felt immense guilt over that.

After an awkward pause, Snape eventually relaxed the tension within his face, and gently sighed, "What about the wards, specifically, are you needing to know?"

Harry was pleased, not expecting that response, "Well. It's not really a matter of casting them that we were worried about. Hermione and I had enough experience with that. However, twice I've seen you detect such enchantments…It's like you knew which ones were used. How?"

Snape gently clasped his hands and placed them on the table, retaining his almost-rigid posture. Harry also noticed he looked slightly paler than usual, "With experience, you will come to recognise the after-effects of each protective enchantment. Each inhibits its own distinguishing feature. As the caster, you will be privy to such effects. However, to bring them down, one must be aware of the specific enchantment used. There is no single enchantment to bring them all down."

"That makes sense, " Hermione gently intercepted, "I read somewhere that wards are rather advanced, thus not many people are able to tell them apart. Is that true?"

"That is correct, Miss Granger. It is a frequent miscalculation when the wrong counter-charm is used blindly, causing it to backfire, in some instances. Aurors are adept in the skill, most specifically, in detecting disillusionment spells. Much like the one that masked my own residence."

"So, how do we tell the difference?" Harry asked.

Snape eyed each student before him, before jumping back into teaching mode once again, "There are two ways one can determine the wards used. By spell, or by contact. Common sense should prevent you from muttering spells everywhere you set foot – especially in a Muggle dwelling - but being able to physically detect any atmospheric disturbance, will be effective enough. Any wrong counter-spell used could prematurely set it off."

Neville grimaced, "No offense sir, but I don't fancy sticking my hand in what I presume may be a protective shield. I watched Snatchers get disintegrated because they ran straight for it."

"That's because the Snatchers are idiots. Any magical dwelling will have some mode of protection among them. They were too power-hungry to keep that in mind."

"So, what exactly do we look for?" Ginny asked.

"Wards are essentially, invisible barriers. But consider those barriers much like…Smoke. The outer layer will be lighter, thus becoming far denser within its core. To detect the ward, we focus on the lighter layer," Snape turned to Harry, with a raised eyebrow as he began firing questions, "Potter, do you recall that evening we went to Grimmauld Place under Death Eater guard? You were able to detect the ward. Tell me, what did you experience?"

Harry furrowed his brow trying to think back, but his mind was still slightly hazy from his horror-induced wake-up call earlier, "It felt like, a…a magnetic repellent."

Snape nodded, "Correct. That was Protego Totalum – A charm used to repel intruders. Did you feel anything else?"

"Well, " Harry bit his lip, in his attempt to remember further details, "Static?"

Snape nodded once again, "Cave Inimicium. Can be used to hide the caster or a targeted area. If you look closely enough, it creates a subtle haze within your vision, designed to avert your gaze."

"And it doesn't mask scents, " Hermione shot Harry a look, "…We learned that the hard way."

"There are several more distinguishing features of said shield charms, however…" Snape paused, as he seemed to stare off into the distance, unusually unfocused. Harry watched as the man's head swayed slightly and noticed him fasten his hold on the dining room table, his face a few shades paler, and his eyes began to blink lazily.

"…Sir?" Harry leaned forward, observing the man with great care. But as he looked closer, he could see his wound began to seep again with fresh blood, flooding the bandage still plastered to his neck. "Sir, your wound…" Harry stood up from the table, and looked over at Ron, "Ron, help me get him upstairs. Hermione, we'll need some of those blood-replenishing potions."

Snape immediately threw his hand up to his neck, trying his best to staunch the wound again. A few drops of blood were falling down over his robes, staining the little Harry could see of the collar of his white undershirt, "Bollocks."

"We'll get you upstairs – " The now panicked group watched as Snape swayed slightly as he slowly stood as dizziness overcame him, causing him to hunch over the table in a bid to steady himself. Hermione dashed from the table and sprinted out of the dining room to make it downstairs to their little potion stores in the basement. Ginny looked nervously at Luna, who both stood up, unsure of what to do. Both Harry and Ron took opposite sides, assisting their old professor in the journey upstairs to his room, with Neville following closely behind.

They led the Professor slowly and steadily up two agonising flight of stairs, to the second-floor master bedroom. They had to stop several times, for fear of Snape fainting and falling down the stairs. The more minutes that ticked by, the more sickly Snape looked. By the last few steps, they practically had to drag the man to the master bedroom. When they finally did, they helped Snape to the bed, and he fell on top like dead weight, losing whatever little energy he had left.

Snape's breathing was quick and shallow, which greatly alarmed Harry. Harry made a move to remove the bandage, but Snape immediately grabbed his wrist.

"Don't."

"Sir, we need to change the bandage."

"I'll deal with it myself, Potter. Leave me be."

Harry watched as Neville conjured some fresh bandages, and placed them on the bedside table, next to the vials of antidote – two fewer empty vials, much to Harry's relief.

Grateful, Harry nodded at Neville, "Thank you, Neville."

"I did have a small bottle of essence of Dittany, but I left it with another Healer at St. Mungos," Neville winced, wishing he had more. He bowed his head down apologetically.

"It's alright, we'll just have to make do without for the time being."

At the same moment, Harry could hear the rush of footsteps from the staircase and looked up to see Hermione bounding into the room. She seemed to be carrying several vials of Blood-Replenishing Potion, and the analgesic serum she had brewed yesterday, along with the essence of Murtlap she had left. Appearing flustered, she placed all objects beside the other vials, as she recoiled at the sight of the blood seeping through the man's saturated bandage.

Neville turned to Hermione, "Could you conjure up a goblet with water? He'll need fluids…Y-You know I'm terrible at that. I'm only good with bandages so far," He looked at the ground, sheepish, "S-Sorry."

Visibly flustered, Hermione nodded, "It's alright, Neville. I've got it." Withdrawing her wand, she transfigured an empty potion vial into a goblet and filled it up using an Aguamenti charm.

Snape grumbled in frustration, not so subtly, making it plainly obvious about all the fuss being made on his accord, "Is it absolutely necessary to have the entire Gryffindor brigade present?"

In an attempt to avoid any further arguments, Harry looked at the others, helplessly, "It's alright. I'll handle this."

Hermione looked at Ron and Neville and nodded as the three of them departed from the bedroom, gently swinging the door half-closed behind them. They knew full well that the only person that can get through to him, was Harry at his point.

Determined, Harry clenched his jaw, as he looked back at the sickly Professor, "Are you going to let me change the bandage, or not?"

Snape sighed, "If that's what it takes to have you leave, then yes."

Harry frowned, "You've been extra foul lately. I know you technically told me to back off the other day, but…At least let me help you. Is that so bad?"

"I have my reasons, Potter. You are not required to know everything about me. You know too much already."

"Well, you won't let me tell Professor McGonagall or Madam Pomfrey…Right now, we've all you got. So…You're going to have to deal with it."

With a look of distaste, Snape exhaled deeply, as he unfastened the few buttons on the top of his suit, allowing easier access to the bandage, "…Just do it. Quickly."

Taking that as a sign of compliance, Harry gingerly reached for the bandage on his neck, and slowly peeled it off, causing Snape to wince slightly at the discomfort. Using an extra piece of the conjured bandage, he bundled it up into a makeshift gauze and held it to the wound, allowing Snape to take hold of it. Harry reached for the Blood-Replenishing potion and the analgesic serum and handed them both to Professor, who shockingly, didn't hesitate to consume them this time. As he downed them both, Harry offered the goblet of water to him and he took a few shaky sips.

The blood began to slowly coagulate, allowing Harry to mop up the remnants of blood around the wound, hence giving him to get a closer look at what they were dealing with. He scrunched his face in distaste, as he observed the horrific nature of the wound. The wound itself looked like a mangled mess. It was not a clean laceration, as it was the worst of the man's wounds. Instead of healthy skin around it, there were dark tendrils of what Harry perceived as the curse inhibiting the wound from healing. The wound was clearly infected, as observed by the pustulant liquid oozing as well as his blood. It looked disgusting, and Harry was trying his absolute best to tend to it without dry retching.

Snape pursed his lips, observing Harry's disgusted expression with almost mild amusement, "That repulsing, I take it?"

"It looks absolutely ghastly if I'm to be honest, " Harry began to apply the Murtlap to the wound as gently as he could, without causing further discomfort to the man, "What about your other wounds?"

"They are sealed, and not as horrendous. This one is far more problematic."

Harry sighed frustratingly, "Look, once I'm done here, I'll let you rest. But afterward, we need to talk," He motioned to the wound, as he began to apply the new bandage, "About…This."

Snape shuffled in the bed once Harry was finished tending to the wound and positioned himself in a more comfortable position. With great effort, he looked back at Harry with wary eyes, "Unfortunately, there's no way I can get rid of a persistent Gryffindor whilst I'm stuck in a house formerly owned by Black."

"Well…Good, " Harry responded a little too smugly, and possibly a little too snarky than intended. At least Snape couldn't avoid him this time. Standing back on his feet, Harry looked back at the antidote vials, and gave a small smile, "I'm glad you took more of the antidote, Sir…Relieved, actually," Harry sighed, "I'll…leave you to it then."

Without waiting for a response, Harry left the room to preserve the man's privacy and dignity. So much about what he saw ran heavily on his mind with worry, and given their dwindling potions supply, there was only so much they could do for him. Harry couldn't help but worry. He could only hope that Snape would be able to give Harry a viable solution in regard to how to manage this fatal curse. If he were able to extend the life of Albus, then surely there was a way they could extend his.

If Snape could trust Harry enough to help him now, then maybe there was some sliver of hope after all.