Harry sat on his bed, staring at his Charms text as he pretended he didn't feel the Floo or the new magic in the room. He knew it was Snape-the only person's magic he could actually identify-and waited anxiously for the other magic to leave. It took a few minutes, likely due to the other Order member passing on their report of how Harry had been all day. He wanted to roll his eyes, knowing they were talking about him while he was literal meters from them and the other Order member convinced he had no idea they were there. Funny they were all relying on him to save them, but thought he was too stupid to realize he was being watched twenty-four seven.

When he felt the Floo activate and the other magic disappear, he peered over the top of his book at where he could feel the bundle that was Snape's magic. He was becoming fascinated with his new ability to feel magic. It was all just so different. Snape's was intriguing, a tight bundle of sharp, but protective and warm power. He really wanted to know more about magical theory. He was curious what everything he felt meant. He lowered his book as Snape's magic spun around and the man became visible.

"Potter," Snape said, inclining his head and moving to sit at the desk as had become his norm.

Harry didn't take any time to consider that he had routine and normal with Snape, more focused on finally addressing his nightmare from four days earlier. He tossed his Charms book aside and scooted to the edge of the bed.

"You told Voldemort I'm going to the Burrow," Harry said and Snape looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"First, yes, I did," Snape said. "Second, you are still having visions?"

"Not while I'm awake, just nightmares," Harry said almost absently. "Why would you tell him I'm going to the Burrow and that there's weak protections? They're going to attack the Burrow!"

Snape stared at him for a long while before leaning casually against the desk, propping one elbow on top and clasping his hands. "Potter, what is my job?"

Harry's face screwed up in confusion. "Uh, a Potions professor."

Snape huffed and rolled his eyes before glaring at Harry. "I know you are not actually this stupid. My other job."

"Oh, right," Harry said, flushing lightly. "You're a spy for the Order."

"Correct, and what do you think such a job entails?" Snape asked.

"Telling Dumbledore what Voldemort's planning? "Harry said, still confused what Snape was getting at, but going along.

"That is one aspect, yes, but I must also tell the Dark Lord of the Order's plans in order to convince the Dark Lord I am on his side. That trust ensure I can feed appropriate information back and forth, and much of that information has to be true to protect my position," Snape explained. "Lies can easily be discovered while truth cannot be questioned."

Harry's eyes flicked to the floor as he mulled over the professor's words.

"Yes, the Dark Lord will send Death Eaters to attack the Burrow due to my information," Snape said. "However, never think such plans are made without thorough consideration and the headmaster's approval."

Harry sighed and nodded, feeling foolish that he'd believed Snape would pass information that would deliberately harm anyone. "The Weasleys won't be there then?"

"Some will be," Snape said. "As I told the Dark Lord, there will be a team of Order members. They hope to capture some Death Eaters."

Harry nodded again, understanding now, even if he wasn't thrilled with the whole plan. He glanced down at his hands, picking at a chipped nail. "I'm going to Grimmauld Place, aren't I?"

"Yes."

Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. "What's going on with Malfoy?" he asked.

"I do not know those specifics," Snape said. "I only know he is to be Marked."

Harry's eyes flew to the professor. "But...he's only sixteen!"

Snape raised an eyebrow again. "While certainly not the typical age, Draco Malfoy is a legacy, not a recruit, and so his age matters little, only at what point he can prove useful."

Harry's forehead crinkled. "Does that mean all the Death Eaters' kids will be Marked?"

"Likely in the next year or so," Snape said, nodding.

Harry frowned, unsure how he felt about such a revelation.

"Come on, Potter, let's get started," Snape said.

Harry sighed again. "What are we doing today? I don't have to keep transfiguring wood into stuff, do I?" As much as he wanted to succeed at his little project, he was also quite sick of shaping wooden blocks into something that resembled a snake.

Snape gave a small smirk. "No, not today. Today, we are going to work with your new Empathy Magic."

Harry looked at him curiously. "Why? Can't I just feel people's magic and emotions through their magic? Honestly doesn't seem like overly helpful magic."

"On the contrary," Snape said lightly. "Not only does it give you the ability to know when someone is nearby even if you cannot see them, it also allows you to detect if someone means you harm. Additionally, and the most important aspect, you can identify spells through their intent. A skill called ‘Spell Reading'."

"Really?" Harry said, interested.

Snape nodded. "Once you are at Grimmauld Place, we will be able to work on identifying people by their magic. We will do what we can with location, intent, and, of course, Spell Reading."

"Wait, you're going to keep training me at Grimmauld Place?" Harry said, surprised.

"I can have another Order member take over, if you prefer," Snape said and Harry thought he felt a strange undercurrent ripple in the man's magic. "Perhaps Kingsley or the wolf."

"No! No, that's not what I meant," Harry said. "I just figured you'd want a break from me once you're not the only one I can talk to anymore. I doubt you've enjoyed the last couple weeks."

Snape gave an oddly casual shrug. "I am not averse to continuing your training. It is necessary for you to learn."

Harry looked at him almost in wonder. "I'd like to continue training with you. You are surprisingly a much better teacher with this than with Potions," he said with a grin.

Snape glared at him. "You are also hopeless and a menace in class."

Harry chuckled. "Maybe, but it is not just me and you know it."

Snape just shook his head. "Let's go, brat, we're going to that park."

Still grinning, Harry hopped off the bed and led the way from the room. Ever since the day Snape had walked in on Vernon strangling him, his relatives had completely ignored him. He hadn't had to do a single chore, was allowed to make himself meals, and no insults or threats had been hurled at him. It was truly like he didn't exist to them and it was wonderful, giving him a reprieve from their abuse for the first summer in his life.

As they walked to the park, Harry found himself marveling, once again, at the changes with Snape. It had only been a week and a half since he talked to Snape that first day, but it felt like much longer given how much they seemed to have changed. Somehow, amongst his overwhelming grief and guilt, Snape had stepped in, despite their volatile relationship, and pulled him just a few steps back from the ledge he'd been teetering on. The ledge was still there-he got closer to it every time Snape left and he was alone-but, astonishingly, Snape was the one keeping him from going over. He had no explanation for how or why, but, for now, he was willing to just accept it, for the moment having someone and something he felt connected to. He would question it all and it being Snape of all people once they were at Hogwarts and back to normal.

They arrived at the park, it and the street as empty as always, and Harry was pushed onto the bench. He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest and looking up at Snape expectantly.

"Get as comfortable as possible and close your eyes," Snape said.

"Why?"

"You are going to practice locating me solely by my magic," Snape said.

Harry nodded and did as he was told. He slouched on the bench slightly and let his hands sit loosely in his lap. He took a deep, calming breath and let his eyes close.

"Pull your wand," Snape said and Harry did so. "I am going to move around the area. You are to find me using my magic, just as you did when you knew I was in the corner of your room. When you believe you know where I am, send sparks in that direction. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said.

"First, do you feel my magic now in front of you?" Snape asked.

Harry narrowed his focus, almost immediately feeling the sharp, warm magic rustling the air in front of him. He just nodded his answer.

"Good," Snape said. "We are beginning. Give me a minute to get in place."

Harry nodded again, keeping himself calm and comfortable and focused. As Snape moved away, so too did his magic, pulled from Harry's field of sense. He frowned slightly, but forced himself to stay focused. He reached out with his conscious, searching for the charged air that made his skin tingle warmly. He didn't know how or what he was doing, but he figured he must be using his Empathy Magic even though it didn't seem to flow through him in the same way as his other magic.

He kept searching until he found the ball of magic he was becoming so accustomed to. He couldn't help but notice how like Snape his magic was. It was tight and sharp, much like the man's outer personality, and pulsed with the power contained within. Yet, under the sharpness was a gentle warmth, the parts of the man kept hidden, parts Harry knew he'd seen a peek of several times over the years each time the man protected him. He waved his wand, sending sparks to where he knew the magic was and felt it flutter with what he thought was approval. The magic moved out of his field again and the search restarted.

They continued in the same manner for another hour. Harry was able to find Snape quicker and quicker by the end. They were able to determine that the limit of Harry's location identification was about thirty meters, but Snape assured him, with practice, he could likely increase that distance

 By the end, Snape's magic was buzzing with approval and impression. Feeling such things from Snape made him want to smile, having never really felt such things from anyone before.

"Take a break, Potter."

Harry opened his eyes at the statement and the body sitting next to him on the bench. He blinked at the minor sunlight, having been in the dark for an hour. Harry glanced at the professor, finding him to be casually looking around at the empty neighbourhood. Harry turned to stare at the swings, absently drumming his wand on his leg. He wasn't sure he'd ever had such a comfortable, yet confusing silence.

As was common those days, his thoughts drifted to Sirius and he frowned, his semblance of peace breaking. He gazed at the bush in which he'd seen his godfather for the first time, heart aching.

"He called me James," Harry said, unsure if he really meant to speak aloud, but continuing anyway, "right before he died. It wasn't the first time, but it was the last thing he said. I know he loved me, but I don't know how much he actually saw me."

It was quiet for a while.

"He may never have admitted it or realized, but he was traumatized, emotionally stunted," Snape said. "He never had a chance to properly grieve or grow."

"Are you defending Sirius Black?" Harry said, looking at Snape with a small, amused grin.

"A temporary lapse of judgement," Snape said. "It will pass."

Harry gave a small laugh, though his amusement faded quickly as Sirius continued to occupy his thoughts. "He's not the only one that saw my parents more than me. Honestly, I seem to just be their replacement for most people."

Another pause filled the space between them.

"I apologize, Potter."

Harry swung his eyes to the professor in shock. "Wha...for what?"

"I believe I fall into the category of ones who saw and used you as a replacement," Snape said, still staring out at the park. "As it turns out, you are remarkably unique to them despite the similarities."

Harry couldn't help but gape, completely taken aback by the unexpected apology and admission.

"Given all I have seen and all that has happened, it would seem I have failed at the one thing I promised your mother," Snape said, his voice sounding far away now. "I have failed to keep you safe."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed. "Are you kidding? You're the reason I'm even still alive. Every year, something or someone has wanted me dead and I've been stupid enough to give them the opportunity every time, but you've been there to stop whatever tries to kill me, including myself. Quirrell and the broom, the potion I needed after the Basilisk because Fawkes didn't actually heal everything and no one thought I knew about it, Lupin, everything you did during the tournament including try to get me out of it, everything you did to stop Umbridge, sending the Order to the Ministry..." he trailed off as he came to the end of his painful school career. "Professor, I may have been nothing more than a copy of James to you, but you are the only thing I've ever been able to rely on in nearly fifteen years. You've been...stable, even if it was stable in how much you hated me, but it was something. I've always known what to expect with you. You hate me, but you will never hurt me, and there will always be someone to protect me, even from myself. Somehow, you have always been what I've needed. I just never knew or realized before now. Maybe I didn't want to until now."

He turned to look at Snape again, feeling his magic almost vibrate strangely, and found the man looking at him, something odd glinting in his dark eyes.

"As I said, Mr. Potter, remarkably unique," Snape said, voice low.

Harry's lips tilted into a half-smile. "You're turning out to be quite the surprise yourself, sir."

"Turmoil incites change, it would seem" Snape said.

"The best kind," Harry said, receiving a questioning look. "It's usually the kind of change that actually means something."

Snape hummed, still looking at him curiously, before clearing the expression and standing. Harry watched. "I have another hour before I must leave, so we will do some more training."

Harry nodded, waiting for the instructions.

"You are going to learn to identify intent which will eventually lead into Spell Reading," Snape said. "You will, again, close your eyes and I will produce various magical intentions. You will tell me what my intentions are."

"Wait, you can do that without actually casting anything?" Harry said.

Snape nodded. "Emotional intent is the basis of most magic. All I have to do is channel that intent and expel magic."

"Wicked," Harry muttered, gaining a raised eyebrow and partial smirk from the professor, though he was reminded of Bellatrix. He remembered trying to use the Cruciatus on her only for it to do nothing. She'd told him he had to mean it, had to want it to make such magic work.

"Get comfortable again, close your eyes, and focus," Snape instructed and Harry quickly obeyed.

He settled back on the bench and brought his subconscious to awareness, quickly finding the feel of Snape's magic again. He breathed slowly and deeply, allowing the feel of Snape's magic to drift over and around him. Once he was ready, he expected Snape to give more instruction, but he didn't, leaving them in a continuing silence. He was about to ask if something was wrong when Snape's magic began to change.

Eyes still closed, Harry cocked his head to the side, intrigued by the changing magic. While the sharpness remained an undercurrent, there was an almost liquid quality to the magic now, as though it were a swirling whirlpool. He felt his forehead wrinkle as he frowned in thought, trying to figure out what the feeling could be indicating about the type of magic.

"Uh, well, it's definitely not something that will hurt me," Harry said, thinking out loud. "It feels, I don't know, clean? Um, is it like Healing Magic?"

"Very good, Potter, "Snape said and Harry smiled at the rare praise. "Again."

Snape's magic returned to normal for a few moments before changing again. The difference was stark and Harry felt it immediately. It was as though Snape's sharpness had increased, becoming more like blades just waiting to slice him to pieces. He felt himself flinch away.

"Some kind of painful magic," Harry said. "Dark Magic, I assume."

"Correct," Snape said and Harry was relieved when the harsh feelings in Snape's magic stopped. It was like he could breathe fully again. "You will learn specific types within the broader areas as well."

Harry nodded in understanding.

Just like with locating Snape, they continued this part of his training in the same way for the remaining forty-five minutes. Snape produced various types of magic and Harry attempted to identify them. He mostly succeeded until Snape started to go more specific, such as non-harmful offensive magic. Harry could tell it was offensive magic, but not that it was non-harmful specifically. Eventually, they had to end the session as it was growing dark and Snape had to leave, so they headed back to the Dursleys'.

"Why can I feel your emotions in your magic sometimes?" Harry asked as they walked.

"As I said and you have experienced, our magic is closely connected to our emotions," Snape said. "However, I believe a part of it for you is also your untrained Mind Magic. You're constantly and unconsciously trying to connect with my mind and, given we have such a connection already, you are able to pick up on any emotions I have at the forefront."

"So, once I learn Occlumency, I shouldn't feel your emotions anymore?" Harry asked.

"Not as frequently or intensely," Snape said, opening the door to Number Four. "You will still feel some given your Empathy Magic and opened Mind Magic from your possession."

Harry shivered slightly at the reminder. He swore he could still feel Voldemort in him sometimes as though the possession had never fully ended. He led the way upstairs and into his room where he flopped onto the bed as Snape headed to the fireplace.

"I will return in three days," Snape said. "I want you to try and identify any of the other Order members that will be here by their magic."

Harry pushed himself up onto his elbows to look at the professor incredulously. "Are you giving me homework?"

"Perhaps it is homework you will actually complete," Snape said, sending a pointed look at the books and parchments littering the desk.

Harry scowled half-heartedly, hating that the man was right though he'd never admit it. "You're a bastard."

"And you're a brat," Snape quipped back. "Good night, Mr. Potter."

Harry had to fight to keep the scowl on his face as the professor disappeared through the Floo.