Lily's Charm

1996

"Crucio," Harry said in a bored voice.

The tall Death Eater clutched at his middle and fell to his knees in the dirt, one hand struggling to hold him up. A low, agonized moan escaped the Death Eater's lips as his body began to convulse. His mask slipped off with the force of his tremors and a sweep of black hair brushed against the ground.

Snape!

Harry jolted himself awake, his face bathed in sweat as he tried to steady his ragged breathing. He wiped a clammy hand across his eyes and pushed himself up, trying without much success to disentangle his legs from his damp sheets. Harry took another shallow breath and grimaced. It was just a dream, he tried to convince himself but it had been too much like the visions he had taken from Voldemort's mind last year. Just like in those, Harry had been Voldemort tonight, calmly torturing Snape.

Harry scrabbled in the darkness for his glasses, panic beginning to settle over him. Was Snape being tortured right now? Or was this another trick by Voldemort? But, if it was a trick then Voldemort had to know that Snape was his father, didn't he? Harry's stomach turned to ice. He had to warn somebody. If Voldemort was reaching out to him again, he and Snape were both in danger.

Without taking any more time to think through his hasty decision, Harry slid quietly out of his bed and tiptoed over to his trunk. Wincing at the slight squeak as he opened the lid, Harry quickly lit the end of his wand and waved it over the contents of the trunk. Finding his cloak easily, as well as the Marauder's Map, he brought the large cloak over his head and hurried out of Gryffindor Tower.

Nobody, except a few ghosts, was about the castle at such an unlikely hour, and Harry made his way without any interruptions to Remus' quarters. Though Harry had never been down there, Remus had given him detailed directions on how to get to his quarters after Harry had asked yesterday if he would mind an occasional visit. Remus, with a warm smile, had agreed readily. As Harry reached the portrait guarding the door, he wondered briefly if Remus had intended for him to come barging in at all hours of the night.

He didn't spare much thought for Remus' possible reaction though as he quickly whispered, "Harry Potter. Turbatio." The large silver wolf blinked at Harry once before tilting his muzzle toward the tiny moon painted on the canvas sky and howled softly. The wolf stopped abruptly and tilted his head as though listening to something and then the portrait swung forward, and a door materialized in the wall. Harry stepped through quickly to find Remus clutching a blue dressing gown around his waist, looking very anxious.

Harry whipped the cloak off and Remus started before breathing, "Harry!" And then in a voice that sounded a sight more vexed, Remus demanded, "What are you doing wandering around the castle at this time of night?"

"I think Voldemort is trying to reach through my mind again," Harry blurted, "and he's torturing Snape!"

"What's this about You Know Who and Snape?" a woman's voice asked. Harry's mouth fell open, unable to stop himself from staring at the bluish-haired woman.

"Tonks?"

She was coming out of Remus' bedroom, adjusting her own dressing gown, which Harry noticed was the same azure color as her short hair--and Remus' dressing gown. The heat rose in his cheeks as he realized what he had obviously interrupted, and he began stammering an apology to Remus, but Remus waved it away impatiently and taking Harry firmly by the arm, the older man steered him toward a chair.

"Harry," Remus said in exasperation as he looked the boy over, "you must be freezing!"

Harry glanced down and realized that in his haste, he had neglected even to put on socks. He shrugged. "S'allright," he told Remus but his friend shook his head and summoned a pair of brown socks from his bedroom. Harry put them on gratefully and then tucked his hands under his thighs to warm them as well.

Tonks perched herself on the arm of the sofa across from Harry and looked between the two men. "What happened, Harry?" she asked, a frown on her face.

"Erm," Harry stammered uncertainly and then looked up at Remus who was watching him intently.

Remus seemed to understand Harry's silent plea. "You had a vision again...the same sort as last year?" he prompted and Harry realized that Tonks, along with the rest of the Order, had to know about those.

"I think so," Harry nodded slowly. "I mean, it seemed the same. It was like I was Voldemort again. But this time, Snape was being tortured with the Cruciatus Curse." Concern flitted across his friend's face and Harry knew Remus had come to the same awful conclusion.

"There was a Death Eater meeting tonight and Snape attended," Tonks volunteered. At Harry's look, she added, "McGonagall told Shacklebolt earlier."

"Can't we do something?" Harry asked as an unfamiliar worry clutched at him, though he already knew the answer.

"Harry, even if we could get to wherever Voldemort is, we can't risk exposing Severus."

"It's better to just let him die?" Harry scathed and Remus pursed his lips; Harry understood the warning and his gaze darted to Tonks. She looked taken aback at Harry's outburst. After all, it wasn't exactly common knowledge that he didn't hate the Potions Master anymore.

"Harry, it's unlikely that the Cruciatus Curse would kill Severus. He's been able to withstand its effects for years," Remus told him, in what was probably meant to be a comforting tone. Harry frowned at him.

"It didn't look like he was doing so well with it tonight," he retorted, his apprehension sharpening quickly toward anger.

Remus turned to Tonks and he said quietly, his voice full of apology, "Tonks, if you don't mind...I need a word with Harry."

Tonks smiled. "Sure. I have to relieve Shacklebolt in a bit anyway." With a wave of her wand, Tonks was dressed in her Auror's robes and with another, her messy hair looked a little less like she had just woken up. Tonks tucked her wand into her robes and said congenially, "Night, Harry. I'll let Shacklebolt know what you saw, all right?" Harry nodded and then he averted his eyes as Tonks kissed Remus loudly on the mouth.

"Night, Remus," she said lightly and with a little wave, she left through the door.

"Tonks?" Harry asked Remus, still stunned at the revelation, though he really had no idea why.

"Harry," Remus said, turning his full attention back to the boy, kpointedly ignoring the question, "I know you're worried but you simply have to be more careful with what you say. Even those in the Order can't know about you and Severus."

Harry nodded mutely. He knew very well that Remus was right but he still didn't enjoy the feeling of Remus scolding him, gently though it was delivered. "Do you think he's all right?" Harry finally asked miserably, looking up again at Remus through his fringe.

Remus dropped down so he was eye-level with Harry. He placed a hand on Harry's knee. "Severus has been taking care of himself for years."

"So have I," Harry said softly.

"I know it's not been for the best for you or for Severus, to have been without each other for all these years," Remus conceded gently, "but he's an adult and Severus knew the consequences when he agreed to take Voldemort's Mark."

"He did it for my mum," Harry objected. "Don't say it as though he had any choice." Harry, by this time had pulled his warmed hands out from under his thighs. He folded his arms over his chest, though it wasn't strictly a defiant gesture.

Remus sighed and patted Harry's knee again. "I know why he did it; of course he didn't have a choice. But even when there is only one choice, there are still consequences....all actions have consequences, Harry," he told the boy wisely, but Harry didn't even seem to be listening.

"But if Voldemort knows about me, he'll kill Snape!" he told his friend, his agitation forcing an abrupt change of subject, making it perfectly plain that Remus' words had been completely lost on him.

"Harry, we have no way of knowing what's going on. I think though that it might be a good idea for you to stay down here tonight...just in case," he said quickly as Harry looked at him sharply.

"Just in case? In case Voldemort murders Snape and then comes after me, you mean?" Harry's voice rose a few octaves in shrill panic, and he had clenched his fists, trying to still the convulsive shaking that began to course through him again. In one quick movement, Remus had Harry in his arms, pulling both of them up to stand.

"Harry," Remus soothed gently as he held the trembling boy in his strong arms, "it's all right." Harry shook his head into Remus' chest but otherwise didn't disagree. He allowed Remus to hold him for a few more minutes before pulling away in embarrassment.

"Sorry," he said quietly but Remus shook his head.

"You don't need to apologize, Harry. It's okay to be upset." Harry nodded even though he didn't really believe the other man. When, after all, had any other adult allowed Harry to express his feelings of distress? Harry shook himself from further dour thoughts and chafed his arms briskly. What had he been thinking, leaving the tower with nothing but his pyjamas?

"Why don't you take my bed, Harry?" Remus offered as he noted Harry's sudden chill He directed a Freshening Charm, followed by one that Harry sometimes used to make his bed, toward his bedroom.

"That's okay, Remus," Harry objected. "You shouldn't have to sleep out here on the sofa."

Remus smiled. "Who says I'll be on a sofa? You know it really is amazing what a wizard can do with a wand..."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Hilarious, Remus."

"Thank you. Now, why don't you go to bed?"

With a sudden thought, Harry asked, "Ron will notice I'm not in my dorm and-"

"I'll send Professor McGonagall a message, all right?"

Harry acquiesced with a slight nod as he yawned.

Remus smiled again. "Go, Harry," he urged. Harry obediently turned, feeling suddenly exhausted though not much of his worry had abated, but he turned again to Remus after taking a few steps.

"Do you want to get some blankets first...or a pillow?" he asked.

Remus patted his dressing gown pocket. "Amazing wand....remember?" he asked with a smirk. Harry shook his head at his friend and went through the open bedroom door. The bed was freshly made and looked terribly inviting. Harry made quick work of worming under the covers but even the bed's warm comfort did not help him relax. Harry lay awake for a long time, thinking of Snape lying in a tortured heap on a cold dirt ground, before falling in a fitful, dream-filled sleep.

--

The sun woke Harry much too early; he squinted against its harsh light as he struggled back to consciousness. He rubbed his eyes sleepily, remembering as he peered around the room that he had spent the last few hours in Remus' quarters after rushing down here pell-mell at two o'clock. As the new dampness of his pyjama shirt shifted against his skin, Harry remembered with a nervous shudder the nightmare that had propelled him to seek out Remus.

Harry shrugged out of his damp shirt quickly, intending to apply a Drying Spell to it, but the sound of voices from behind the closed door interrupted him.

"There was no need for you to come all the way up here," came Remus' surprised voice.

A deeper voice, heavy with annoyance, rumbled in response, "Your message implied it was urgent that you speak to me, Lupin."

Snape!

Harry, without recognizing the feeling of relief that immediately washed through him, grabbed hastily for his glasses and shoving them onto his nose, he threw the covers back, swung his legs over the bed and hurried out of Remus' room. Remus' door opened with a loud thwack; Snape and Remus both spun around. Remus smiled at Harry. Snape's black eyes widened in shock

"Harry," Remus greeted easily. And then Remus was being shoved roughly up against the wall, with Snape's large hand wrapped in a deadly lock around his neck.

"What is this?" Snape hissed, his voice barely more than a harsh whisper and Remus, his throat so constricted that he couldn't even let out a moan of protest, opened his brown eyes wide in panic.

Harry, snapping out of his momentary stupor, plunged toward the two men and screamed, "Stop!" Snape's head twisted toward Harry but he did not loosen his grip. "Let him go," Harry pleaded, his voice edging toward desperation as he stood in front of them.

Snape's eyes narrowed and Harry had no trouble this time identifying the hurt deep within their obsidian depths. Then with a snarl, Snape abruptly released Remus, flinging him away from him as though he had been contaminated.

Remus stumbled, clutching at his abused throat as he collapsed in a chair. Harry went to him as he fell. "Are you alright, Remus?" he asked. When Remus nodded shakily, Harry rounded on Snape, who was staring at Harry and Remus with an almost dazed look on his face. "What in the bloody hell was that?" Harry shouted.

That seemed to snap Snape out of whatever had flummoxed him. He straightened and said coldly, "Do not shout at me."

Harry glared at him. "I'll shout at you anytime I please, Snape! What the hell did you think you were doing? You could have killed him!"

Snape's face had paled slightly as Harry began, but by the end, he had regained his color and a sneer. "Yes," he agreed.

"Yes?" Harry echoed, outraged. "What is that supposed to mean?" he demanded. He was clenching his fists together with so much force, they were beginning to ache.

"Severus."

Harry looked toward Remus as his friend was pushing himself out of his chair. Remus swallowed a few times, trying to return some of the lost moisture to his throat, but his voice was still raspy as he said quietly, "Harry came to see me after he was woken by what he believes to be Voldemort reaching out to him again. I simply didn't want him wandering the castle in the middle of the night." When Snape didn't respond, Remus said in an even quieter tone, "I slept out here."

Harry looked between them in confusion and watched in fascination as Snape closed his eyes briefly before the familiar mask settled once again over his features before he turned to Harry. "Why do you believe the Dark Lord to be reaching out to you?"

Harry, still rankled at Snape's maniacal treatment of Remus, almost refused to answer. But since he did want to figure out what had happened last night, he unclenched his fists slowly and answered, "It was just like last year. I was Voldemort...seeing things from his perspective."

"What did you see?" Snape asked.

Harry shifted nervously and he had to look down before he could answer. "I was torturing you," he whispered.

"You did not do anything." Snape's voice had lost all of its harshness and Harry looked up quickly in surprise. Snape looked away as he continued, "Can you remember specific details? What was said, descriptions of where I was?"

Harry nodded quickly. "It was the Cruciatus Curse and you were lying in the dirt," he answered and then waited anxiously for Snape to comment.

Snape was silent for too long before he said curtly, "The Dark Lord was not in contact with you."

"But how could you know that?" Harry asked, bewildered by the surety in Snape's tone.

Snape pressed his lips together before answering, "The Cruciatus Curse was not used on me and at no time during the night did I 'lie in the dirt'."

Harry thought he sounded vaguely amused though it was hard to tell with Snape. What was so amusing about lying face down on the ground anyway? Harry folded his arms across his chest and asked, tilting his head in puzzlement, "So...it was just a dream then?"

Snape nodded without hesitation. Remus was watching the interplay closely and he cleared his throat slightly, probably still trying to regain some feeling in it, Harry thought with rancor. "I need to get dressed, Harry. Will you be alright?"

Harry hesitated, and Snape interjected with a sneer, "I have managed to be in the same room with him without eviscerating him, Lupin."

Remus only smiled lightly in response and with a gentle squeeze to Harry's shoulder, Remus left them alone. Harry looked everywhere but at Snape, feeling particularly self-conscious and horribly confused.

"As we have been...distracted of late," Snape began and Harry had the distinct feeling that the Potions Master was feeling at least as uncomfortable as he was, "we did not settle the matter of your Occlumency training."

Snape was staring at him again, in that way he had of making Harry feel as though the man was about to thoroughly chop and dice him. Harry shrugged, not really knowing what Snape was expecting of him and he wasn't so surprised when the Professor's jaw stiffened. But what Snape said next, did give him a start. "Would it be acceptable to you, were I to resume your lessons?"

Snape's voice was flat, without a trace of emotion as he spoke, but Harry was beginning to notice a pattern. Whenever the Professor held himself so stiffly, he was inevitably saying something that made Harry's stomach lurch, though in a way that made him tingle with a nervous half-hope, instead of with dread. It was as if Snape was trying very hard not to show he cared. Wanting to test his theory, Harry smiled and said smoothly, "Sure," keeping all of his reservation about Occlumency lessons tightly bottled up.

Harry watched carefully as a light glinted in Snape's eyes briefly and the Professor's face relaxed a fraction. But then Snape was still again except for the quick nod of approval. Harry, satisfied at the success of his experiment, allowed himself a grin, though what he really wanted to do was laugh, or maybe shout with joy. "When should we start?" Harry asked calmly, ignoring the panic that was warring with his light happiness.

Snape was watching him now, and Harry wondered if Snape could sense his fear, like a wild animal, giving in to its instincts. "Tonight. Seven o'clock."

Harry nodded. "Your classroom, sir?"

Snape hesitated, but then nodded. "That will do," he agreed.

Again the uncomfortable silence overcame them as they stood in Remus' sitting room, staring at one another until Remus came out of his bedroom, fully dressed in his teacher's robes and holding Harry's now dry pyjama shirt in his hand. Harry's face heated as he realized he was standing in front of both of them, his chest bare.

"Erm...thanks, Remus," Harry muttered and hastily replaced his shirt to its proper place. When he was fully clothed again, he glanced up at Snape with eyes narrowed in sudden understanding. "You thought I was in here, with Remus," he exclaimed incredulously and his mirth spilled right over his embarrassment; he laughed. Snape pursed his lips, looking decidedly disgruntled. Harry raised his eyebrows as he glanced quickly at Remus and then back again. "I guess your reaction makes sense then," he mused, but he bit his lip quickly to end his smirk as Snape stiffened.

"As I recall, I told you to stay in the tower yesterday," Snape said icily, effectively changing the subject and causing Harry to look down at Remus' socks.

"Uh," was the only response he could come up with.

In a smug voice, Snape continued, "Perhaps we will discuss your inability to obey instructions before your lesson this evening."

"But I thought you were being tortured," Harry objected indignantly.

Snape's haughty sneer faltered, but then he said smoothly, "Be that as it may, you should not have left your dorm."

Harry folded his arms across his chest and glared at Snape. The Professor glared right back. And as Snape's glower was eminently more effective, Harry gave up after a minute and sighed. "Fine. Take points if you want," he said grumpily.

Snape narrowed his eyes slightly and simply said, "I will see you at seven o'clock. Do not forget." Ignoring Harry's pointed mumble, Snape swept from the room. The door thudded closed behind him.

"Can you believe that git?" Harry fumed. He turned to Remus, expecting his friend to be nodding in full agreement.

Instead Remus was frowning at the door in thoughtful concentration. "No, I can't," he answered slowly, rubbing his neck gingerly.

--

Harry was leaning with his back against a tree, with Ginny leaning against him. Both of them watched the sun setting in contentment. Ginny twisted around a bit when Harry sighed into her hair.

"It'll be fine, Harry," she told him calmly, knowing exactly what Harry was thinking about.

"Yeah," he agreed quietly though his insides felt like they were twisted in knots. "It was brutal last year, Gin," he confided, the memories making him squirm uncomfortably. Ginny turned fully around to face Harry. She reached a small hand up to run her fingers gently through his hair. Harry closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation of Ginny so close to him.

"Things aren't the same anymore."

Funny how Ginny's easy confidence could bolster his spirits, Harry mused as he pulled Ginny again to his chest. "It feels that way, sometimes...but then it's as though something snaps in him and he's the same foul Snape he's always been." Harry felt Ginny nodding against his chest.

"He's been alone for sixteen years, Harry."

Harry didn't answer as Ginny's words sunk in, and it felt as though a stone had settled itself into the pit of his stomach as he thought of the Potions Master so filled with sorrow...so alone after losing everything. "I didn't want him to die," Harry whispered suddenly and Ginny wrapped her arms around him, letting Harry lean into her for support. They sat that way for a long time, not needing words. It was only when the charm Harry had set, informed him that it was ten minutes before seven, did the couple reluctantly pull away from one another.

Their fingers intertwined naturally together as they stood up and walked back to the castle. Harry gave Ginny a light kiss as they parted at the enchanted staircase and then Harry made the rest of the journey into the dungeons alone, though the corridors were still crowded with students.

The door to Snape's classroom was open so Harry went inside.

"Close the door."

Harry looked up to see Snape seated behind his desk, quill in hand, apparently marking a fresh batch of essays. Harry shut the door as Snape had requested and wasn't surprised as the Professor added his usual Charms to the ones already in place.

Snape stood after he'd finished and moved toward his office, beckoning Harry to follow. Harry's heart plummeted. The last time he'd been in Snape's office had ended in disaster. He willed his feet to move forward, and then he let out a relieved breath as Snape passed his office door and stopped in front of the Floo.

Snape turned to look at him inquisitively, "Is there a problem?" he asked as he had obviously noticed Harry's sigh.

Harry shook his head quickly. "No sir. Are we going somewhere, sir?" he asked as he eyed Snape pulling a handful of Floo Powder from the pot on the mantle.

"Obviously," Snape said, though without any heat. He gestured for Harry to enter the Floo. Apprehensively, Harry obeyed. Snape followed after him, standing so close to Harry that their arms were touching. Snape seemed little bothered by the contact as he calmly threw down the Powder and called, "Severus Snape's quarters!"

Harry's mouth fell open at Snape's words and a moment later he was rewarded with a mouthful of soot. He coughed and sputtered, hacking violently and with one quick whack from Snape, Harry coughed once more and then fell silent, his throat burning. As he stepped out of the fireplace, Snape silently handed him a glass of water. Harry glanced up and Snape gave the glass a pointed look. Harry took it and sipped the water carefully, trying to soothe the ache in his throat.

"Thank you, sir."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "It is best to close your mouth while Flooing," he informed him, deadpan and Harry's cheeks burned right along with his throat. He opened his mouth to retort, only to close it slowly as he noticed the end of one of Snape's lips was lifted about a millimeter above the rest of his mouth. Harry stared at the Professor, and then nodded.

"Good advice, sir. I'll try to remember that,' he said seriously. Snape peered at him and then his face went blank again and Harry almost did laugh that time. The Potions Master was easier to read than Ron.

"Shall we begin?" Snape asked as though they had not just exchanged good-natured barbs.

Only then did Harry notice his surroundings. They were definitely in the dungeons. He looked around, surprised at how light the furnishings were. The couches and chairs actually looked comfortable, the paintings almost...cheerful. It wasn't Snape at all.

Snape was watching him survey the room, and Harry suddenly felt self-conscious. "Sorry sir. We can start now."

"Your mother picked out most of these things," Snape said abruptly, guessing where Harry's thoughts had strayed.

"She did?" Harry asked, surprise filling his voice. Snape only nodded. "You kept them, sir?" Harry asked before he could censor himself.

Severus looked away as he explained, "Albus created a 'safe house' of sorts for us when you were born. Your mother decorated it. When she died and Albus appointed me Potions Master, I brought everything here." For Snape, it had been a lengthy speech and Harry, with considerable effort, didn't stare dumbly at him. He nodded instead.

Harry felt ridiculously happy that Snape had kept his mum's things. Even after she had given him every reason to hate her, here was proof that Snape had never stopped loving his mum. He had to still the smile that wanted to rise to his lips. Snape was watching him closely again and Harry wondered how much he was giving away. Taking a chance and hoping fervently that he wouldn't regret it, Harry asked, "Why did you bring me here, sir?"

A muscle twitched near the Potions Masters' lips. "Do you have an objection?" he asked and Harry almost rolled his eyes, but he caught himself. Snape was almost as bad as Dumbledore!

"No sir. I'm glad we came." The words sounded unnatural and Snape looked uncomfortable but he didn't snap out an angry response, so Harry didn't feel as bad as he might have.

"We should begin," Snape said, steering them away from sensitive topics, though of course the Professor wouldn't understand, but Occlumency lessons were rather a sensitive topic on their own. But Harry nodded anyway, determined not to disappoint the Professor.

"The mind has many layers," Snape began and Harry blinked. Snape didn't pause though. "Occlumency is the art of burying thoughts beneath a shield, while purposely allowing other, specific thoughts to surface."

"Sir?" Harry questioned, completely confused.

"That is how I am able to play the part of spy for the Dark Lord. I only allow him to see what I want him to see. The rest of my thoughts, especially those that would give me away, I bury deep under my shields," Snape explained patiently and Harry almost couldn't listen as he was still reeling from this drastic change in Snape's teaching tactics.

Tentatively, not wanting to tear this fragile bubble that seemed to be forming around them, Harry asked, "But, how do I do that, sir?"

Snape regarded him with a thoughtful expression and said simply, "I will help you."

The two stared at one another for a long minute.

"Come here."

"Sir?" Harry questioned, unprepared for the quiet command.

"Proximity increases the ability to open another's mind." Snape paused as he noted Harry's skeptical look. "The Dark Lord is not an average Legilimens and the connection between the two of you is unique," he explained, sounding slightly less patient than he had a moment earlier.

"But then I don't need to be near Voldemort to block him out, right?"

"No, you do not. You do however need to learn to block out anyone at all and that will require you to--come here!" Snape's impatience overflowed as he tersely repeated his command. Harry felt his feet moving forward automatically, and then he cursed himself for his easy compliance. If the Professor noticed Harry's resentment, he didn't comment on it.

When Harry was close enough to Snape, the Potions Master grasped Harry's upper arm firmly and unceremoniously plopped him on the couch. "Ow!" Harry yelped and Snape snatched his hand away as though he had been burned.

There was a short silence before Snape spoke again. "You will need a mental image," he said stiffly. His eyes were averted as Harry rubbed at his arm absently; it hadn't really hurt that much, he wanted to tell the Professor, but dammit, why did the man have to be so pushy?

"What sort of image?" he finally ventured.

Snape turned his gaze back to Harry. "One that will allow you to focus. You will choose an image that will not distract you. I will show you."

Snape sat down on the sofa next to Harry, leaving several inches of space between them. He angled himself so that he and Harry were facing. The Professor drew his wand from his robe and brought it slowly toward Harry's temple. Harry tried very hard not to flinch, waiting on an indrawn breath for Snape to hiss, 'Legilimens' at him. Instead, the man said quietly, "It will work best at first if we are in contact with one another." He paused and said gruffly, "I will not hurt you."

Harry's stomach lurched; he had not meant to make the man feel badly, but the pain in Snape's voice was unmistakable. "Okay," Harry managed to say and then tensed under Snape's steady gaze.

With an almost gentle movement, the Professor's course fingers were lightly cupping the back of his head and again Harry couldn't help the tension that stiffened his body. Snape, seeming to sense Harry's reservation, said quietly, "This will not be like the invasion it was before." Harry instinctively relaxed at the reassurance and the Professor tilted Harry's head up a fraction so that he was staring deep into the black eyes.

And then Snape's wand was pressed gently against Harry's temple and a whispered spell broke the stillness. Harry sucked in a sharp breath as he felt a warm glow entering his mind. The warmth gathered around his thoughts, and slowly grew in its intensity, becoming a slow burn, a flame that flickered against Harry's insistence that he be left alone. But the flames brightened and the warmth began to fill him, soothing the aching memories at the forefront of his mind.

As if the flames were tentacles, fiery fingers reached themselves around Harry's troubled memories, plunging them downward as they gripped, pushing them under the fire that now raged inside him, until Harry felt cleansed, whole again. Tentatively, the flames licked at the easy memory of Ron, groping under his bed for a shoe, his face tensed up in a frown, of Hermione with her hands clasped together as she explained that Snape had loved Lily, and Hedwig swooping down from the rafters in the Great Hall, bringing him a letter.

As Harry relaxed, the flames reared up again, pulling the innocuous memories up, above the flames and set them free again. Then the flames steadied, dimming slightly and flickering gently once more and Harry felt at peace, as though he didn't have a care in the world.

Gently, with a slight and silent whoosh, the flames flickered once, twice, and then died out completely. Slowly, gradually the buried memories trickled back into Harry's consciousness. Harry opened his eyes dazedly; Snape was staring at him, seeming lost in himself. Snape's hand still held Harry's head firmly. Coming back to himself, the Professor blinked slowly and drew his fingers from the hair at Harry's nape, where sometime during the last minutes, they had intertwined themselves.

And then Snape's features sharpened. "You told your friends," he accused and instantly, all of Harry's ease vanished.

"It was before you told me not to," Harry said quickly, hoping Snape would leave it.

"So you are capable of following simple instructions, then?" Snape sneered.

Harry balled his fists while his face flushed deeply. "Well, I've been following your stupid instructions for years, haven't I?" he retorted.

Snape's eyes glinted, though this time in distinct anger. "As I recall, your inability to follow instructions led to the disaster at the Ministry of Magic last year," he drawled and Harry surged to his feet.

"It was because you can't teach worth a damn that I couldn't learn Occlumency! It was all because you couldn't get over your jealousy of James that Voldemort was able to enter my mind at all!" Harry's voice was well into the range of a shout and by that time Snape was also on his feet, glaring down at him.

"Jealousy, Potter?" he hissed. "James Potter took my family from me-"

"He didn't take anything!" Harry shouted right over him. "Voldemort and your mother killed my mum and I'm standing right here, Snape!"

Snape's fists were also clenched in rage as he snarled, "You will not address me in that manner."

"How would you like me to address you then?" Harry asked in a fair imitation of the Potions Master's sneer. "How about 'daddy' just like I used to? Or would that be too painful for you? Merlin knows we're all dancing around your feelings so much, it's not even clear you have any feelings at all!" Ignoring the tears that were threatening to spring to his eyes, Harry turned toward the Floo.

"Where are you going?" Snape demanded harshly.

Harry ignored him and continued toward the fireplace.

"Accio Floo Powder," Snape snapped and Harry had to duck to avoid being smacked in the head by the ebony box that whizzed off the mantel.

Harry spun around. "Hey!" he objected. But then, with determination, Harry turned again and marched toward Snape's door.

"If you wish me to put you in a full Body Bind, by all means, continue on toward that door," Snape said, his voice deadly calm.

Although fully aware that the Potions Master would most certainly follow through on his threat, Harry took another step.

"Petrificus-"

"Oh, all right!" Harry shouted, spinning to face Snape again. The Professor calmly lowered his wand as if he hadn't been about to hex his own son. Harry folded his arms angrily across his chest. "So, now I'm a prisoner?" he asked sarcastically.

Inexplicably, Snape's lip curled slightly and Harry narrowed his eyes. "No, you are not a prisoner. But, you are going to stay here until we are finished with your lesson."

Harry sagged a little. "You want to go on with this?" he asked, keeping his voice as even as he could manage.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Despite my inability to 'teach worth a damn', you mean?" he enquired.

Harry stiffened. "Well, you didn't teach me last year at all, did you?" he asked, his tone not quite reaching sarcasm.

Snape regarded him silently. "I was not prepared last year."

Harry wasn't sure what to make of that statement. He knew further probing would likely make the Professor angry again, and as he was glad they were no longer shouting at one another, he kept his questions to himself and simply nodded. Snape, in return, gave him a very strange look and Harry had to look away as his throat constricted. "I should have listened to you last year," he said quietly.

"It would not have helped," Snape returned after a pause, his voice matter of fact.

Harry chanced a glance at the Professor. Snape sighed and gestured jerkily for Harry to sit. Harry sat cautiously again on the sofa, his eyes trained on Snape. "My methods last term were inappropriate to the situation. You are correct that I was blinded by my hatred of James Potter."

Harry stared at him in utter incomprehension. "Sir?"

"It is not your fault that Black died. I did not mean to imply as much," Snape told him, his face as still as Harry had ever seen it. And then abruptly Snape asked, "Shall we continue?" Harry nodded, not able to find his voice. "This time, I will be inside your mind only to guide you as you secure your own thoughts, with your own anchor."

"But, I don't know how to do that, sir. How do I choose an image?" Harry asked quietly, still very unsure of how Snape would react to his display of incompetence.

"You misunderstand," Snape said. Harry tilted his head in confusion, not least because Snape had pointed out a flaw without a trace of a sneer. "You need not purposely choose an image. As you Occlude your mind and bury your thoughts, the image should come naturally to you."

More confused than ever, Harry shook his head. "I'm sorry, sir, but I still don't understand."

"I told you that I would show you," Snape said, with a touch of impatience. "You will open your mind to me," he said shortly and again, Snape's hand reached out to take hold of the back of Harry's neck. This time, Harry brought his head up on his own so that he could look into the Professor's eyes. The Potions Master nodded once and brought his wand to Harry's temple.

"Patefacio vestri mens," Snape whispered and again Harry felt the warmth of Snape's presence glowing in his mind. "Loco vestri poena absentis." The warmth gathered around Harry's thoughts and then among the flames, a mist began to gather, coming together in substance, dark and wet as it coalesced.

Put your thoughts away.

Harry started at the silent suggestion. And then one of the bright flames flicked out toward the gathering storm. It wrapped its fiery strands around the cloud, stretching it to fill Harry's mind.

Sirius floated above the raging cloud, falling over and over into the veil. The fingered flames reached out for the memory of Sirius and Harry watched as it was tugged out of sight behind the cloud. Cedric appeared next, his face staring unseeingly up into Harry's eyes and this time, before Snape's fiery tendrils could interfere, Harry forced the memory away through the gray mist. All of Harry's most painful memories, swiftly now, were paraded down into the cloud, streaking by so that they were nothing more than a blur. And finally, there was Voldemort, peering at Harry from red snake-like eyes, hovering with deranged glee while Harry writhed against the ground. With a silent cry of anguish, Harry shoved the bastard through the foamy black.

Remus smiled at Harry happily as he stepped from the Floo in Dumbledore's office and Fred and George whizzed above the cloud wall on their brooms, fireworks bursting behind them. Happiness filled Harry once more as the memories guarded the clouds like sentinels until finally, Harry heard, as if from far away in a dream, "Paro lemma solvo," and the dormant flames set the cloud ablaze. The mist burst open and Harry's memories hurtled out to crush the cheerful throng above.

With a great gulp of air, Harry lurched forward as the violent memories assaulted him, catching him unaware and he cried out in pain. Strong arms steadied him while he dragged in jagged breaths. "Breathe slowly," a strong voice commanded him and Harry obeyed, pulling in a long breath and letting the air out of his lungs in a slow hiss. Another slow breath and another and Harry was becoming once more aware of his surroundings.

Heavy hands on his shoulder gave Harry a gentle squeeze...Snape's hands. Then the hands pulled away and Harry gripped the back of the sofa for support as the unlikely comfort was withdrawn. "What happened?" he asked unsteadily.

"Exactly what was supposed to happen. You Occluded your mind so that the only thoughts that would be available to another were the ones you allowed to remain above your shield."

"Clouds?" Harry asked, bewildered by the timidity of such an image.

"A storm, to be precise...a formidable defense."

But Harry shook his head. "But you broke through it easily."

"You had already allowed me access to your mind. I was there to guide you," Snape reminded him. "Eventually, you will be the only one able to bring the buried memories to the surface again."

Harry considered that with a frown. "Why didn't you show me how to do that to begin with?" he asked before he could stop himself, though he supposed he already knew the answer.

Snape pursed his lips. "I believe I already said my methods were not opportune to the task, did I not?"

"I guess," Harry agreed, though he didn't feel that explanation had counted for much. After all, it wasn't even really an answer. "So then...your image is fire?" he asked, struggling for something to say.

"Flames," Snape corrected instantly as though he expected Harry to be able to understand the obviously much too subtle difference. Harry shrugged and Snape studied him for a long moment before saying, "Your image bears a marked resemblance to the storm that overtook you during your third year when Dementors attended your Quidditch match."

Snape's expression was thoughtful, prompting Harry to remember little more than a year ago when the skies in Little Whinging had darkened in a similar way. He shuddered as he thought of the Dementors, so close to giving him and his cousin a very unpleasant Kiss.

"The idea disturbs you?" Snape asked, eyes still intently watching Harry.

Harry shook his head. "Not exactly. I was just remembering the Dementors last summer," he explained.

"Ah." Snape inclined his head in a satisfied sort of way.

Harry leaned forward on the sofa, intrigued. "Does that mean something to you?" he asked, his voice tinged with excitement.

Snape pulled back slightly before answering. "Dementors were, I believe, your worst fear when you faced the Boggart in Lupin's class, correct?"

"How did you know about that?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"You would be unsurprised, I am sure, to learn that you are the topic of many conversations during staff meetings," Snape informed him coolly.

Harry's neck flushed with embarrassment. "Brilliant," he muttered, fiddling agitatedly with one of the pillows on the sofa.

"That does not please you?" the Professor asked in some surprise.

Harry looked up from the pillow. "Would you want to be the center of all the gossip in the wizarding world?" Harry asked, though there was no heat in the question, only resignation.

Snape regarded him again with that thoughtful expression. "No."

"You were saying...about the Dementors?" Harry asked, uncomfortable under the Potions Master's scrutiny.

Snape nodded briskly. "Fear is a powerful emotion. Twice, you fought off a Dementor attack...brought down your greatest fear. It makes sense that you would use an image of fear defeated, as your shield."

"Twice?" Harry inquired, feigning misunderstanding at Snape's count.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "You defeated Dementors after you went back in time to rescue Black," he reminded him.

Harry groaned. "Do you know everything?" he implored in dismay.

"More than you would wish, certainly," Snape replied, a hint of a smirk around his mouth. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Well that's just bloody magnificent," he told the Professor sourly.

"Yes," Snape said seriously.

xxxxx

The Floo erupted across from where Severus sat watching the quizzical expression spread over Harry's face. Severus turned and raised an eyebrow at Albus' jolly face.

"Albus," Severus greeted, not having expected the Headmaster.

"Severus, my boy. And, Harry! How felicitous. May I step through, Severus?" the old wizard inquired. Severus stood and nodded, gesturing for the Headmaster to come in.

Albus came through the flames without a trace of soot on his yellow robes. Nevertheless, he brushed the pristine robes and sat across from Harry.

"Good evening, sir," Harry said politely.

"It is indeed, Harry. Now, has your father had a chance to tell you about Draco, yet?"

Severus noted that Harry shifted uncomfortably. He recovered quickly, answering with a shake of his head, "No, sir."

Albus pierced Severus with a hard stare before continuing, "No matter, my boy. Perhaps, Severus, you would care to explain now?"

Severus held himself erect. "I would not," he told Albus stiffly.

Albus favored Harry with an amused glance before saying to Severus, "I think the entire situation would benefit from Harry's help, don't you think?"

"I think Albus, that as Harry has not yet mastered Occlumency, it would be best if he did not acquire any more dangerous information." Severus chose not to notice Harry's startled glance.

Albus' old blue eyes twinkled absurdly. "You've resumed Harry's training, then?" At Severus' curt nod, Albus clapped his hands together. "Wonderful, wonderful," he said happily.

"Was there something you wanted, Albus?" Severus inquired in a restrained growl.

"Of course, Severus. Why else would I barge in here during your personal time?"

"Well?" Severus all but barked when the Headmaster continued to smile at them.

Albus looked affronted, but of course Severus saw past the idiotic ploy. He waited, with his arms folded, hands clasping elbows while the Headmaster smiled at Harry. "Impatient, your father," he told the boy with a knowing nod. Harry's lips twitched before he broke out in a smile and for the third time that evening, Severus had to restrain a smile of his own.

Albus turned back to Severus, still smiling and handed the Potions Master a tiny vial filled with a viscous silvery-white liquid. Severus nodded tersely and glanced pointedly toward the Floo. Albus, of course didn't take the hint. "I was successful," the Headmaster said unnecessarily. Severus almost rolled his eyes at the comment. Of course Albus had been successful...there was no other reason for the Headmaster to gift him with a vial full of memories.

"I will view it immediately," Severus told the Headmaster. Albus nodded.

"Excellent, Severus. Well, Harry, I'm off again, I'm afraid. I am delighted to see you and Severus finding your way together." Harry nodded, though the boy's movements seemed unnatural to Severus. "Good night," Albus told them both with a nod and then he stepped through the Floo again and was whisked away to secure the one thing that might be able to save Severus' son.

"You're still not going to tell me about Malfoy?" Harry asked as the Floo's green flames died away.

Severus placed Albus' vial of memories in an inside pocket of his robes. "No," he told the boy.

Harry tapped his forefinger against one of the sofa's pale blue cushions. "Hmmm...what could Malfoy be scheming?" he mused.

Severus shook his head. "He is not scheming. And, as I recall, there is still the matter of your having ignored my orders not to leave the tower last night."

Severus was surprised when Harry smiled at him. "Very Slytherin, Professor."

"I beg your pardon?"

"That's the third time you've changed a subject to avoid talking about something." Harry said with a shrug. "But, it's alright. I'm pretty good at figuring things out...well, with Hermione's help anyway," he finished breezily.

Severus glared at the boy. "You will do no such thing," he said, allowing his voice to showcase an echo of menace.

Harry's green eyes grew calculating and Severus narrowed his own eyes in response. "Fine," Harry told him and Severus clenched his jaw.

"Do you wish your idiocy to get someone killed?" Severus snapped, thoroughly irritated at Harry's false attempt to placate him. Instantly, a frost settled over the boy's face.

"May I go?" the boy asked, his voice absolute ice.

Severus wanted to say no, he could very well not go, but there seemed little point in allowing the remainder of the evening to deteriorate. Severus didn't answer, though he did walk into the Floo with quick steps. Harry hesitated. "You're coming with me?" he asked, his tone returned somewhat to its normal warmth.

"I will go with you to my classroom. Then you may leave."

Harry flinched, and Severus stepped out of the Floo in one swift movement. Harry backed up, fear flashing in his eyes. Severus stopped abruptly. This was impossible.

Severus held the box of Floo Powder out to the boy and offered quietly, "You may go alone, if you wish." He closed his thoughts so that he did not give away the hurt that threatened to erupt.

Harry stared at him. "I-alright, sir," he agreed, his shoulders slumping. Harry took a pinch of the Powder and turned slowly back to the fireplace. Before throwing down the Floo Powder, he said on a whispered breath, "I won't do anything about Malfoy, sir."

And then his son went up in flames. With a hissed curse, Severus flung the box he was holding against the floor. The delicate ebony shattered into tiny shards as the green Floo Powder glittered its way across the cold stone floor.

xxxxx

"Harry."

Harry, about to make an attempt to dismantle the Professor's spells on the classroom door, gripped his wand convulsively and turned abruptly at the sound of his name on Snape's tongue. The Potions Master was standing rigidly in the door to his office; his face was blank.

"Yes sir?" Harry queried, his voice wobbly.

Snape stared at the opposite wall as he said, "I do not wish you to leave like this." Harry couldn't think of a coherent response to that, so he just waited. Snape darted a quick glance in his direction and then drew in a stilted breath. "I spoke out of turn."

Harry closed his eyes, allowing Ginny's face to float in front of his eyes, trying to somehow pull from the image some sort of inkling of what he should do. He knew of course what Ginny would urge, so he took a breath and plunged in. "It's all right, sir," he said, keeping his jaw relaxed as he spoke, giving nothing away.

Snape pivoted swiftly. He stared, his dark eyes penetrating. "So like your mother," he murmured so quietly that Harry knew he wasn't really speaking to him. The words set his insides aglow anyway. Snape lifted his chin a fraction and said evenly, "I will arrange for you to meet me in Lupin's classroom Thursday night. You will need to tell your friends that you are receiving preparatory training."

Harry nodded, "To give me an edge against Voldemort?" he asked with a thoughtful frown.

"You already have an edge," Snape said, to which Harry furrowed his brow but he nodded as well. "I believe, however, that is the best course of action," he said as he nodded. "I do not think we can use the same excuse as last year."

"Yeah, it was a bit unbelievable that Professor Snape would spare his free time to give me lessons," Harry said with a light smile.

"So my Slytherins told me," Snape returned easily. Harry's smile stretched a bit. "It is almost curfew," the Professor reminded him abruptly.

"Right. Thank you, sir," Harry put in automatically and Snape looked momentarily confused, to which Harry suppressed a chuckle. "Could you undo your spells, sir?" he asked with a wave toward the heavy door.

Snape flicked his wand without speaking and the dungeon door creaked open.

"Good night, Professor." Snape merely nodded and Harry, understanding, nodded in return and hurried out into the corridor.