“Harry. Look at me.”

Harry dragged his gaze up to Snape, who was kneeling in front of him. “It hurts.”

“I know,” Snape said, laying his hands on Harry’s shoulders. “But you need to tell me what you found.”

Harry briefly closed his eyes as he fought the bile rising in his throat. “Death.”

“Not very helpful,” Snape said wryly.

“Sorry.” Harry opened his eyes again. “I traced it, like you said. I traced the connection, all the way back to- to him, and then I was in his mind, and it was vile.” He shivered and wrapped his arms around himself. “He… lashed out, when he felt my mental presence.” He took measured breaths as the headache pounded through his temples. “It hurts.”

“Is the connection active?” Snape asked anxiously.

“No,” Harry shook his head. “But he knows about it. He’s going to use it, I know!"

Snape sat back on his heels, the worried look in his eyes still there, but less tense than before. “Well, it’s a good thing you know how to Occlude.”

“Yay,” Harry said, unable to feel gratitude at the moment.

“Come on, then.” Snape gently tugged him to his feet, and Harry realized for the first time that he’d tumbled out of his chair onto the cold stone floor of Snape’s office. He allowed Snape to push him back into his chair and found a Headache Reliever pressed into his hands. “I’ll be back.” He then strode to the fireplace and flooed to Dumbledore’s office.

Harry watched the green flames return to red as he downed the Reliever. As the pain in his head faded, he felt the tense muscles in his shoulders and back relax somewhat.

It still surprised him at times to find that he could relax in Snape’s domain. No one, least of all Harry himself, could have anticipated the bond that had formed between him and his Occlumency mentor.

Well, almost no one. Harry smiled when Dumbledore stepped through the floo with a twinkle in his eye, closely followed by a still-talking Snape.

“...moreover, I believe that the Dark Lord will have no compunction about abusing—”

“Severus,” Dumbledore interrupted as he subtly held out a hand for Harry’s galleon, “I understand the threat Tom poses.”

Harry quietly sighed as he slipped the money to the Headmaster, realizing that he must have lost the bet about whether or not Snape would require a Calming Draught before or after Christmas. As if on cue, Snape pulled out a vial from an inside pocket and downed it in one go. Harry stifled his giggle and noticed Dumbledore’s smile.

“Harry,” Dumbledore said, turning to him. “Did it hurt you to use this connection?”

“Not until he realized I was there and attacked me. I think it was instinctive, though. I don’t know if he really meant to hurt me. He might have tried to follow me back to my own mind if he hadn’t been so startled and frightened.”

“Frightened?” Dumbledore asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said, a grin spreading across his face. “When he felt me there, he was frightened. I could feel it.”

Dumbledore exchanged a glance with Snape, who despite the Calming Draught looked suddenly angry.

“Albus, you can’t possibly be suggesting that we use this connection. Harry should be Occluding at all times. I don’t want him to open himself to attack just because you want him to go snooping—”

“Who said anything about snooping?” Harry asked, all innocence, but a thrill of excitement running through his veins. “I was thinking about going on the attack, actually.”

Both men turned to him, and although they both immediately began arguing (Snape strongly insisting that it was too dangerous, Dumbledore cautiously warning that they might want to learn more before making any plans), Harry was already feeling the wonderful sensation of a truly inspiring idea take shape in his mind.