Night had long since fallen over Hogwarts. Rain continued to rhythmically drum against the windows of the darkened hallways, though the occasional streak of lightening would light the sky outside. Silence and darkness seemed to reign absolute except near the door of a small study just down the hall from the stone gargoyle of Dumbledore’s office; the soft crackle of burning wood and glow of dancing flames spilled through the partially opened doorway into the dark hallway beyond. Inside, the soft murmur of voices could be heard...

“Dumbledore, if I might have a word...” Professor Snape quietly whispered into the headmaster’s ear. “It concerns Potter...”

Dumbledore looked up at Snape. “What is it, Severus?”

“The boy... What is to be done with him?” Snape asked, glancing over at the other side of the room. Dumbledore followed his gaze until it came to rest on the haggard looking figure of Sirius Black sitting on the edge of the divan bearing his godson’s still, lifeless body. The man’s hair hung wildly down around his face, his features bathed in dark, half shadows cast by the roaring fire on the other side of the room in the fireplace. Sirius blankly stared down at the floor by his feet, looking as if he were moments away from collapsing from exhaustion, but was too full of racing thoughts to actually do so.

But while Snape’s gaze seemed to fall on his old childhood enemy, it was really focused on the ghostly, tousle-haired figure sitting close beside Sirius on the couch, unseen to everyone else except himself.

“What do you mean, Severus?” Dumbledore asked.

“The boy – Potter... what’s to be done with him?” Snape repeated, starting to get slightly annoyed, “I have better things to do other than standing around here all night waiting to act as Potter’s translator. We have already spent all evening trying to decide what to do with him, and still are no closer to finding a solution than we were when I first found him. If there is nothing else I can do here right now, I should be able to go.”

Dumbledore stared at Snape for several moments of silence before he finally gave a small sigh and looked back over at Sirius and Harry’s body. It was true what Snape said. They were no closer to figuring out how they were going to retrieve the missing third of Harry’s soul from his would-be killer than they were before.

The others had already left to try and find more productive ways of helping. Lupin had returned to Grimmauld Place several hours ago to inform other members of the Order what had happened, and to prepare for any possible strikes Lord Voldemort might make against the wizarding world whenever word of Harry’s “death” got out. Mcgonagall had left to take over some of Dumbledore’s duties as Headmaster, and to deal with the endless stream of letters that were already flooding Dumbledore’s office from the countless rumors that had sprung up since that afternoon. Madam Pomfrey had stayed a little longer, tending to Harry’s battered body and mending what broken bones and injuries she could with Harry still in his semi-dead state before she too had left to return to the hospital wing.

Sirius was the only one that absolutely refused to leave Harry’s side. He seemed chained to the boy’s body, as if it was some kind of link between him and his godson’s wandering spirit. Dumbledore just hoped that some kind of solution could be found soon, or otherwise he feared for Sirius’ mental state. The man had already suffered and lost so much...

Dumbledore gave another weary sigh. “Yes. There’s nothing else we can really do right now,” he said, sounding every bit as old as he looked. “It would be best if you went and tried to get some sleep, Severus. I get the feeling none of us will be getting much again any time soon...”

“What about you, Sir?” Snape asked, a hint of concern creeping into his voice as he studied the headmaster’s tired, careworn face, “Will you be getting any sleep?”

“No,” Dumbledore replied, shaking his head, “I will stay here with Sirius. I doubt he’ll want to leave Harry...”

Snape gave Sirius a dark, sideways look out of the corner of his eye. As of yet, Black still hadn’t taken any notice of him and Dumbledore talking about him barely fifteen feet away. He barely even seemed aware of anything around him actually, he was so wrapped up in his own helplessness and grief over Potter. It was really rather pathetic...

“Sir... I don’t think you should have to put yourself out like this for Black,” Snape said with a suppressed sneer. “He will be fine by himself. If nothing else, I say you should ask Madam Pomfrey to give him a strong dose of Sleeping Potion that’ll keep him drugged til noon tomorrow.”

Dumbledore gave Snape a disappointed look. “It is not only for Sirius that I stay here. Though I cannot see or hear him, I do not want Harry to feel as though he’s been abandoned. I will stay here with him while you go rest.”

Snape gave a small, derisive snort. “Somehow I don’t think Potter’s really all that alone...” he sneered, glancing over at Sirius and Harry on the couch, sitting there beside each other looking so sad and dejected. Honestly! And Gryffindors were suppose to be the strong and brave ones... So far he hadn’t seen them do anything else except mope around feeling sorry for themselves. After discussing Potter’s situation for several hours and still coming up with no plausible plan of confronting McCourn, Black had become quiet and sullen, and the boy had practically glued himself to Black’s side. It was like Potter was trying to somehow comfort Black with his presence even though Black couldn’t see him even if he had stood right in front of him and jumped up and down. Really, the boy was starting to get annoying with all this Gryffindor chivaree.

Dumbledore however did not seem to share Snape’s views on the two. “Severus,” he said, leveling a soft but serious gaze on him, “I know how you feel about Harry, but as I said before, I hope you can eventually put this grudge of yours aside and work to help him. You are, after all, his Acolyte, and the only one that can see and hear him. If it was anyone else Harry had chosen as an Acolyte, I would strongly advise them against leaving him right now, even for a little while. He needs someone that can communicate with him here. But I know how you feel about each other, and know that you will need time to get used to the idea of working together. I am not reprimanding you for your feelings toward him, Severus – nothing in this world can make me change the way you feel about him, though in time I hope that will change on its own. All I’m asking is that you remember Harry needs someone to depend on, and right now you’re that only person...”

Snape grit his teeth together in annoyance. Leave it to Dumbledore – the bloody Gryffindor- loving old man – to make him almost feel guilty about wanting to leave the boy. But he had important things he needed to do that didn’t needa fifteen year old ghost following him around everywhere. It was hard enough being Hogwart’s Potions Master and a spy for Dumbledore in Voldemort’s inner circle, but with this added complication of dealing with Potter and being his unwilling Acolyte, Snape was beginning to feel a little bit overwhelmed.

“I will try and return as soon as I can,” he finally muttered after a time. Dumbledore nodded and smiled, his eyes twinkling with satisfaction. Snape forced himself not to return Dumbledore’s smile with a sneer. Bloody Gryffindor- loving old man indeed...

Turning away from Dumbledore, Snape swept across the room towards his incorporeal charge. “Potter,” he said, coming to a stop in front of the boy. (He ignored Sirius when the haggard looking man looked up at him in surprise as if only noticing him there for the first time. He then also ignored Sirius’ startled expression when the man suddenly realized just how close Harry was to him by where Snape was looking). The bleary-eyed spirit-boy looked up at him inquiringly. “I must attend to some matters that do not need you trailing after me like some kind of shadow,” Snape went on. “You are to stay here and keep out of trouble. Professor Dumbledore had agreed to stay with you until I return (though I cannot understand why,) and I’m sure Black will be able to provide you with ample entertainment until then. You are not to leave this room and go wandering about the school. I know rules have never stopped you from doing what you wanted before, but I refuse to go searching the entire school for you, so I want you to stay here where I know you’ll be. Is that understood?”

A momentary flash of defiance flared in Harry’s eyes before he grudgingly replied, “Yes, Sir...” Looking up at Snape he then hesitantly asked, “But what if I need to tell Professor Dumbledore or Sirius something? How will they hear me?”

Snape eyed Harry for a long moment of silence. “Then wait. Surely you can survive several hours without anyone answering to your every beck and call. Or are you incapable of such a simple thing?”

Harry was sure any lingering feelings of gratitude he might have had for Snape since first finding him were rapidly beginning to fade. “No, Sir, I’ll be fine,” he muttered tightly, trying to hold his tongue and keep his cool. But it was difficult when Snape seemed so determined to provoke him.

“Come, Harry,” Dumbledore suddenly said, striding over to Snape and looking down at the spot beside Sirius Snape continued to stare at. “Why don’t you come sit here,” he said, conjuring a comfortable looking chintz armchair beside the fire. “I’m not sure what sensations are still left to a disembodied spirit such as yourself, but I’m sure you’d be more comfortable here. And it’ll let your godfather and I know exactly where you are while Professor Snape’s away. I must admit, it is a bit disconcerting not to be able to know where you are,” he added with a smile.

Harry looked between Dumbledore and the armchair. It did look more comfortable than sitting on the edge of the divan like he was. (And it was still undeniable creepy sitting next to his own dead body.) “What about Sirius?” he asked, glancing over at his tired looking godfather, “Wouldn’t he be more comfortable there?”

Snape had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes at the boy’s continued determination to play the hero in every situation – even to those people that were suppose to be the adult figures to him. He dutifully relayed Harry’s question though.

“No, Harry,” Sirius said, shaking his head vigorously after he’d listened to Snape’s rendition. “That’s alright, I’m fine,” he said, trying to force a bit of cheerful assurance into his voice, “You’ve had a rough day, and like Dumbledore said, it’d be nice to know where you actually are...”

Harry still looked unsure though.

Oh for Heaven’s sake... “Potter! Just take the bloody chair already so I can leave,” Snape snapped. “Does everything with you have to be a production?”

At Snape’s angry prompting, Harry obediently leapt up and sat in Dumbledore’s conjured chair.

About bloody time... “Potter’s there,” Snape said, indicating the empty looking chair to Dumbledore and Sirius, “I’ll be back later.” Then swishing his long black robes behind him, the dark haired man swept out of the room like an angry wraith, banging the door close behind him with a heavy, resounding thud.

Silence hung heavy in the air in the wake of the Potions Master’s departure. Left to stare at the empty armchair his godson was suppose to be sitting in, Sirius gave Dumbledore an uneasy glance. Dumbledore however returned his glance with a smile. With a twinkling sparkle in his eyes, he conjured another armchair next to Harry’s and comfortably sat back in it.

“So, Sirius,” he said, sounding like he was doing nothing more than making idle, friendly chit chat, “Perhaps to pass the time, young Harry would like to hear a story. Maybe something about your own school days here at Hogwarts. I distinctly remember one incident in particular that always amused me involving yourself, James, a certain invisibility cloak, Mr. Filtch, and a late night raid on the kitchens that went horribly awry...”

Despite himself, Sirius broke into a wide grin. “I remember that...” he said, a soft reminiscent look entering his eyes. “It was the night after a big Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. We had won and were tied with Slytherin to win the Quidditch Cup. So to celebrate, James and I decided to pay a little visit down to the kitchens for a late night snack. Everything was going fine until we were coming back and James accidentally stepped on the tail of Mr. Pennington – Filtch’s cat before Mrs. Norris. You should have heard that cat screech, Harry! It nearly woke up the entire castle. Well, of course James and I had to hide right quick even with his invisibility cloak on because just about everyone was starting to crowd the halls, making it near impossible to move around without bumping into someone and letting them know we were there. So James decides to slip into one of the unused classrooms to wait until things died down and everyone went back to bed. Only we didn’t realize until we were already in the room that what we thought was an empty classroom was actually Professor Talens’, our old Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher’s, office. Harry, if you thought having Snape for Potions was bad, Snape was the Easter Bunny compared to Talens. That man, I swear, was pure evil. And wouldn’t luck have it, he was there in the room when James and I crashed in...”

Harry sat there enraptured as he listened to Sirius talk about his and his father’s old marauding days. But as Sirius continued to spin his tale, Harry began to feel all the weight of the day’s stress begin to weigh down on him. Sirius’ voice was soothing, lulling him into a peaceful state of mind. He felt like he could fall asleep. A dull ache throbbed through his spirit-body. He was pretty sure it was the milder version of what he would have been feeling if he was still in his body and recovering from being hit head-on by a speeding car. How he could feel such sensations in his incorporeal state, he couldn’t even begin to guess. Maybe it was the link of his body still trying to call his spirit back to it; Harry didn’t know. Whatever the case, all he knew was that he was tired and sore, and that all he wanted to do was close his eyes and rest his weary soul.

Sirius’ voice was becoming more distant and muffled. Harry could feel himself slipping away into sleep. Darkness was steadily creeping in closer as his eyelids slowly began to drift shut on their own volition. It was so comfortable here. Maybe if he rested a bit then everything wouldn’t seem so hopeless and desperate when he woke up. Dumbledore and Sirius were there. Everything would be alright. And Snape said he’d be back later. It wouldn’t matter if he closed his eyes for awhile... He felt bad about falling asleep while Sirius was telling his story, but it wasn’t like Sirius or Dumbledore would ever know...

******

Damn Potter... Snape scowled, sweeping down the stairs toward his dungeon-office. Perpetually making my life difficult... Snape barely even slowed as he stormed into his office and slammed the door closed behind him. Several jars on the shelves rattled ominously.

Snape swept across the room before throwing himself in the chair behind his desk. But he didn’t stay there long. He was too agitated to stay in one place, and quickly got back up to pace the room.

Blasted boy... he griped, feeling his ire rise even more now than when he had had the boy right in front of him. Why did Potter have to pick him out of everyone else in the wizarding world to be his Acolyte? Was it possible Fate really was out to get him? If it wasn’t, it sure felt like it sometimes...

This whole mess was Potter’s fault! The boy probably had gotten bored and pestered his relatives into taking him into London. That would be something Potter would do... Yes, that’s exactly how it happened... Potter was being his usual spoiled self and had demanded his relatives take him into London, regardless of any danger he might have been in, where he had then come across a Death Eater – and being the usual headstrong Gryffindor he was! – had tried to take one of the Dark Lord’s most powerful servants on by himself. Typical arrogant Potter...

Honestly! Snape thought, Dumbledore goes to too much trouble trying to protect the boy when Potter seems so unwaveringly determined to get himself killed...

And then! to add to Potter’s already long list of faults, he had gone and dragged him into the whole thing! The boy had been hit by a car and his last thought had been about his Potion’s essay? What kind of person thinks about that just before they’re about to die?

A Potter... That’s who. Only a Potter would be so fly-brained as to think of something like that and get someone else who absolutely hated him involved...

Snape scowled and savagely whipped around on his heels to pace the room again. Whenever this is over and the blasted boy is back to normal, I swear I’m going to assign him enough essays to keep him busy til he’s my age... Snape darkly promised himself, also wondering if he couldn’t start deducting points from Gryffindor even though term hadn’t started yet. Maybe then that will teach him not to involve me in his messes...

But as Snape whirled around to pace the room again, he was blind sided by a sudden bout of lightheadedness that had him frantically grabbing for anything to hold on to. He managed to grab hold of a nearby bookshelf before he could fall, and clung to it as if it were some kind of lifeline. He was dimly aware of several glass jars falling from the jostled shelf and shattering on the ground by his feet, but it seemed so far away and distant Snape could do nothing more than clutch the shelf tighter and pray for the dizziness to stop.

Just as suddenly as the attack came, it left, leaving Snape shivering in its wake. Pulling himself up unsteadily, Snape looked around in confusion. What the bloody hell was that? But then, as if in answer to his own question, a sudden thought flashed through his mind like ten foot high, neon red lights:

Potter...

Gasping, Snape flew out of the room and up the stairs three at a time. He heard several portraits angrily yell at him as he sped by, but he paid them no heed. Something deep inside him was practically screaming at him to find the boy, and find him fast. Something was terribly wrong...

How he managed to get there so fast, or by what way he had come, Snape didn’t know. But there, in the distance down the hall, he spotted the stone gargoyle of Dumbledore’s office. Flying past it to the study beyond, Snape grabbed the handle of the door and wretched it open.

Dumbledore and Sirius both jumped nearly six inches up off their seats as Snape crashed into the room, his stringy dark hair flying wildly around his face. But Snape paid them no mind and immediately looked to the supposedly empty chair near the fire – and felt his heart clench with dread.

The ghostly figure of Potter was still in the chair, exactly where he had told him to stay. But the boy’s head was lolled back against the chair with his eyes tightly shut as if he had fallen asleep. But that was not what Snape found so wrong with scene he beheld. No, not that at all... It was the fact that the boy’s body seemed to be fading that sent a cold spike of fear through the Potions Master’s heart...

Though the boy’s body was already a pale, transparent grey, there was no denying what Snape saw as he watched the boy’s body waver for a moment like a dying candle before flickering almost completely out of sight, before it then slowly faded back to a fuzzy white outline.

“Potter!” Snape screamed, rushing past Dumbledore and Sirius to Harry’s side, “Potter, wake up! Potter!”

The boy didn’t stir.

“What’s going on, Snape? What’s wrong with Harry?” Sirius demanded, leaping to his feet and rushing to the Potion Master’s side.

“Severus, what’s happening?” Dumbledore asked, also getting to his feet.

Snape ignored his audience, trying to focus on the fading boy in front of him. “Potter! Potter, wake up right now!” he continued to shout into the boy’s ear, placing one hand on either side of Harry’s head to lean down over him until he was almost right in the boy’s face. If he thought he actually could have, he would have grabbed the boy by his shoulders and tried shaking him awake. “Potter, wake up right now or I’m going to start taking points from Gryffindor! Potter! Potter!”

Professor Snape’s efforts seemed to finally pay off as Harry finally began to stir.

Issuing a pained, tired groan, Harry weakly tried to blink his eyes open. But they seemed too heavy for him to manage and slowly began to drift close again. His ghostly form once more flickered and faded several shades.

“Potter, I’m warning you, wake up right now!” Snape shouted, a hint of panic beginning to creep into his voice. His hooked nose was now barely inches away from Harry’s face as he continued to frantically shout in the boy’s ear. “Potter! Potter!”

As if finally hearing Snape’s frantic calls, Harry weakly rolled his head to the side, his eyelids fluttering behind his transparent glasses.

“Come on, Potter, wake up,” Snape said, trying to keep calm though he found it hard to keep his panic from welling up.

Harry gave another groan before finally blinking his transparent grey eyes open to dazedly look up at Snape as if he didn’t immediately recognize who he was. As Harry became more awake, Snape saw his body slowly grow more condensed and grey, as if regaining some of his substance.

Harry seemed to finally wake and visibly started, suddenly realizing who it was that was staring him directly in the face. “Professor?” he weakly mumbled, looking around in confusion, “What’s going on...?”

Snape released a long breath of air he hadn’t even been aware he’d been holding.

“Severus, what happened?” Dumbledore asked, looking between Snape and the empty looking armchair worriedly. “Did something happen to Harry?” Sirius was anxiously hovering next to Harry’s chair, looking as if he was about to pounce on Snape if he didn’t start talking soon.

Snape gave another heavy sigh and straightened from over the chair. “It appears Potter fell asleep while I was away. I was down in my office when I suddenly felt as though something was wrong, and came back to investigate. It was lucky I did because Potter looked like he was beginning to fade.”

“Fade?” Sirius demanded, “What do you mean fade? Like–?”

“Like he was fading out of existence,” Snape supplied, giving Sirius a dirty look out of the corner of his eye.

“This is not good...” Dumbledore muttered, “Is he alright now?”

Snape glanced down at Harry who sat there frightened and confused. “Yes. He appears to be. He’s awake now and not fading anymore. If anything, I’d say it was him being asleep that caused it, though I have no idea how or why...”

Dumbledore studied the empty armchair Harry sat in. “It must have been the Acolant Spell’s link between you that summoned you back to Harry’s side,” he said, tugging at his beard agitatedly, “If you had not come back when you did, I don’t know what would have happened. Harry could have faded away without Sirius or myself ever even knowing...”

Looking back over at his resident Potions Master, Dumbledore said, “You know what this means, Severus... We can’t risk another incident like this. You must stay with Harry at all times from now on in case something like this happens again. You are the only one that can see him. This fading can’t bode well for Harry; we’re running on borrowed time. His body must be weakening. When he fell asleep, the link between his body and soul must have begun to deteriorate. You have to watch Harry and keep him from falling asleep again. Until we find a way to restore him – and restore him soon – you two must stay together.”

Feeling his heart sink at such an ominous proclamation, Harry glanced up at his least favorite teacher. Snape was also looking at him, an unpleasant sneer pulling at his lips.

Well, Harry thought with a frown, at least they were united in their mutual dislike for one another...