Lily's Charm

1996

It had been over a week since his first Occlumency lesson and Harry didn't know when he'd last felt so tired. He had told all of his friends about his "extra training" with Remus, which had inevitably led to Harry starting up the D.A. again. His friends had begged and pleaded with Harry for three days before Harry finally gave in and asked Remus to become their advisor for the inflated group of students. Remus, of course, had agreed readily and the eager young witches and wizards had gathered in the Room of Requirement twice during the past week.

Harry met with Snape two nights as well, leaving him only one free evening, all of which he'd spent with his nose buried in his textbooks. He was beginning to feel a bit like Hermione. Occlumency was going surprisingly well, after the slightly uncomfortable tension of their second session, during most of which Snape had spoken only to give Harry terse commands.

The third time had been much easier; Harry and Snape hadn't exchanged a single cross word, excluding of course Snape's random snide remarks. Harry was growing used to the snark, as well as the man who delivered them with such practiced ease. He was even beginning to feel some inkling of fondness for the Professor, and Harry was almost certain Snape felt the same way, though Harry had noticed with a bit of wariness that the man hadn't called him 'Harry' since that first night.

It was as though the Professor had buried every trace of emotion far beneath his shields. Harry hadn't noticed even once a hint of anything other than endless black in the man's eyes. Harry knew the last words they had exchanged that first night had cost Snape dearly and he was obviously not going to recover easily.

Harry sighed as he circled the Pitch. He had almost decided he was too tired to accept McGonagall's decision that Harry become the Captain of this year's Quidditch Team. He had gone to see Remus after she'd asked, moaning that he was too swamped to take this on as well. Remus had listened patiently and then asked if Harry wanted to play Quidditch at all this year to which he'd answered, "Of course!" rather indignantly.

And then the sneaky sod had asked smoothly, "And you'd like Katie Bell to be Captain?"

Harry had scowled at his friend and taken the hint. He'd almost lost his nerve two nights ago, when Snape had frowned in disapproval when Harry had mentioned his Quidditch plans.

"I do not think it wise to take on so much this term. You need to focus on your training," Snape had said immediately when Harry had told him about McGonagall's choice.

Harry had tilted his head and asked, "Are you telling me I can't?", having no idea why he would even ask. It wasn't as if Snape had any authority to forbid him playing Quidditch, after all.

Snape, in response, had pursed his lips and said stiffly, "You should do as you think best." and then shortly afterwards, the Professor had ended the lesson much earlier than usual. Harry had left feeling very confused.

Later that night, he'd relayed the entire conversation to Ginny, who had explained patiently that Snape obviously felt uncomfortable in the floundering role he found himself in--hovering somewhere between parent and teacher. Harry had considered that and realized after a bit that he had been hoping for some sort of advice from Snape about what to do. And obviously, that had been far too much to expect from the prickly Professor.

"Harry! Come on down!" Ron called from far below him on the grass. Harry nodded even though his friend couldn't see him. He turned the nose of his broom toward the ground and nudged it forward so that he was streaking toward the ground.

xxxxx

Severus surveyed the Quidditch pitch quickly until he caught sight of his son, soaring high above the Pitch in lazy circles. Severus tensed in remembered discomfort of the last time Harry had flown his broom, ending up in the Hospital Wing. Why did the boy have to enjoy this blasted game so much? It was a waste of time, Severus insisted to himself; Harry had more pressing matters to attend to, not least of which was staying alive long enough to defeat the Dark Lord.

Feeling vaguely anxious, the Potions Master scanned the stands and then walked with hurried steps to where he could see his Slytherins settling in to spy on the Gryffindor Team. Absolutely no stealth at all. Severus shook his head slightly at the egregious inadequacies inherent in his young students. The fools were not even able to restrain their surprise when their professor walked into their midst, seating himself without a word next to Draco.

Severus ignored the children as they eyed one another. Unsurprisingly, it was young Malfoy who cleared his throat and asked, "Professor? What are you doing here, sir?"

Severus looked at him askance. "Enjoying the fine September weather," he told him.

Draco grinned.

"Of course, sir. As are we," he agreed, breathing deeply in through his nostrils to emphasize the truth of his words.

"Yeah, sir, the pitch is the best place to admire the autumn colours," Zabini added with a smirk of his own. The rest of the Slytherins laughed raucously at their friend. Severus ignored them, keeping his focus on Harry's form as the boy flew absurdly higher on his broom.

Severus watched Harry as he looked down at a shout from Weasley. Yes, Severus wanted to urge, come down from that ridiculous thing. He said nothing, watching in silence as Harry started a nose dive that hurtled him toward the earth. Severus' heart lurched into his throat as he watched the boy stretching closer and closer to the ground.

Severus' hand itched as he readied himself to perform a wandless and silent 'Arresto Momento' on his son. But only centimeters from the grass, Harry pulled up on his broom handle abruptly and hopped down, grinning from ear to ear. Severus gritted his teeth, wishing he could rebuke the boy for his reckless behavior. A sound admonishment would have to wait however, until he and Harry were next together privately.

"Wow," Zabini breathed beside him, obviously impressed with Harry's obvious skill.

"Show off," Draco muttered, glaring at Harry, who was by now surrounded by a throng of his fellow Gryffindors...and Lupin, Severus noted sourly. He watched in readily growing agitation as Lupin clapped Harry on the shoulder. Harry was still grinning, until the youngest Weasley leaned in to say something in Harry's ear. Harry's face stilled and his eyes darted up to where Severus and his Slytherins were watching. Severus pursed his lips as Harry's lips curved into a sort of dazed smile. Obviously their Occlumency training was not going as well as Severus had believed, if the boy could manage only to hide his surprise as well as Severus' tempestuous Slytherins.

"What's Potter grinning about?" Draco demanded, much more agitated than he should have been by the simple smile.

Severus continued to watch his son intently. Even at this distance, Severus could see clearly that Harry's face had warmed with a slight flush, and then the boy was nodding at something Lupin was saying to him. Finally, as though held by a magnetic force, his son dragged his eyes away from Severus' glare.

"All right, everyone here for tryouts, line up under the goalposts!" Harry barked out in a commanding tone and the other students scrambled to obey. Severus had to bite back a smile as he watched.

The students there only as spectators, turned away from Harry and wound their way through the seats to find places to watch. Lupin was among them. Severus tracked Lupin's movements surreptitiously, until the other man turned and then he was staring, unblinking, at Severus. The werewolf smiled at him, his weathered face suffused with humor and Severus scowled in return before turning abruptly back to the pitch.

Harry was giving instructions to the first group of Gryffindors, which included both Weasleys and Ms. Bell of last year's team. Severus continued to watch as Harry signaled the group up and then Harry was kicking off the ground and soaring upward toward the clouds.

"Is Dumbledore still out?"

Severus turned toward Draco sharply, letting out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Draco wasn't looking at him, but staring intently at the little team above the pitch, his eyes following their progress. When Severus didn't answer, Draco turned his head slightly and raised his eyebrows insolently.

Severus turned back to the scene above him. "I do not believe that is any of your concern, Mr. Malfoy," he returned silkily.

"Like hell it's not," Draco hissed between his clenched teeth. A few of the other Slytherins turned to eye Malfoy curiously.

Severus glared at them, and the eavesdroppers hastily turned away. "Control yourself, Mr. Malfoy," Severus warned quietly.

Draco clenched his hands where they rested on his knees and continued to stare out over the pitch. Evidently the young Slytherin was becoming restless, most likely from having to keep himself constantly in the company of at least one of his fellows. The young man's mood was not likely to improve in the near future. Minerva had announced that the first Hogsmeade trip of the year would take place the following Saturday. Severus was not looking forward to telling Draco that he would not be allowed to go.

A cheer rose up from nearby and Severus glanced again toward the sky. He hadn't seen what had happened to cause such elation but Harry was clapping Weasley happily on the back. With a pang, Severus realized he was not eager to tell Harry he would not be going to Hogsmeade either; the Potions Master had a feeling that the boy would not take the news well. He had briefly considered taking Lupin up on his offer to tell Harry, though Severus gave no inkling of his hesitation to the werewolf, who had been far too eager to take on the responsibility.

Severus watched the rest of the tryouts in silence. After a few failed attempts to get Malfoy to speak up, the rest of the Slytherins finally gave up and they too gave in to the quiet.

With the end of the tryouts, the new team crowded itself around Harry in excitement and Harry chanced another glance toward Severus. It would appear that he would indeed need lessons in stealth as well as Occlumency. Snape glared at him pointedly until Harry finally looked away, though oddly, Ms. Weasley now glowered at him from her position next to Harry. She kept his gaze until Harry tugged on her arm.

Severus was not surprised at Harry's choices for his new team. He was certain he would hear muttering about the boy playing favourites in his choice of both Weasleys, but Severus had to admit that his son had chosen fairly. As the newly formed Gryffindor team dispersed, the Slytherins began shifting in their seats, gathering stray belongings and otherwise preparing to leave the pitch.

Severus stood and said tersely, "Mr. Malfoy, a word."

Draco stood obediently, though his posture radiated resentment. Severus ignored the young Slytherin's attitude and gathering his robes about himself, the Potions Master strode from the stands, with Draco trailing slowly along behind him.

xxxxx

Whatever Snape and Dumbledore had planned for Malfoy, the Slytherin was back to his old self, Harry decided as he watched Malfoy stirring the bubbling cauldron between them with jerky movements.

"Mufflap Sap," Malfoy snapped, thrusting out his empty hand and wiggling his fingers impatiently.

Harry pinched his lips together and placed the slim phial into the other's outstretched hands; Harry was determined not to bring Snape over to them. Though the Professor had all but ignored the two of them last week, Harry had no desire to test their burgeoning relationship over Draco Malfoy.

"Frogs' eyes," was Malfoy's next command. Harry handed over the little dish of eyes.

Malfoy glanced at it. "Can't you count, Potter? I need five, not four." Harry clamped his teeth tightly together and added one more eye to the dish.

Malfoy added the Frog's Eyes and stirred the Occulus Potion fifteen more times, then ordered, "Chop the toad stomachs. Finely."

Harry picked up the two stomachs gingerly and used his little knife to cut up the disgusting organs with quick little movements. Malfoy watched in open disapproval. Harry had to start repeating over and over in his mind how Snape had come to the Quidditch trials on Saturday. The refrain helped a little.

Harry gave the finely chopped stomachs to the ungrateful Slytherin. After twenty more circles around the pewter cauldron with the glass stirring rod, Malfoy set the rod down and folded his arms across his chest in one angry swipe. Sighing quietly, Harry raised his hand to signal to the Professor that they were finished and after he'd made sure that Snape had noticed him, Harry lowered his hand and waited.

Snape eventually made his way over to the silent pair. Harry noticed the muted glare given to the sullen Slytherin boy. Without a word, Snape tested the Occulus Potion, as he did every other Potion and pronounced, "Excellent work as always, Mr. Malfoy. Ten points." He ignored Harry, though now Harry preferred it that way. He relaxed as Snape moved on to the next table.

The class was dismissed soon after that. Malfoy left as fast as possible, marching out with Zabini and Parkinson. Harry cleaned up his supplies; Malfoy had not even bothered to open his own bag this session. Harry stuffed his ingredients away and trudged to the back of the classroom, extremely annoyed. Ron was waiting for him.

"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked.

"She was in a hurry to get to the library before dinner." Harry perked up at that; Hermione had promised to continue researching the Charm his mum had performed on Snape seventeen years ago.

"Brilliant," Harry said enthusiastically and then proceeded to recap Potions class in great detail to his friend as they walked to the Quidditch Pitch for their first practice of the new term.

--

After he'd finished his last treacle tart later that evening, Harry leaned forward, resting his cheek in the palm of his hand. "Well, Hermione?" he asked impatiently as his friend peered at the thick volume in front of her. "Did you find anything?"

"Harry," Hermione chided in exasperation. "You've been asking me for days and I've given you the same answer every time--not yet."

Harry sighed and pressed, "But, it has to be somewhere."

Hermione glowered at him and went back to her book. Harry groaned in frustration. They were never going to figure this out.

Ginny reached out a small hand to squeeze Harry's arm gently. "Why don't you just ask the Professor?" she asked sensibly.

Harry shook his head. "Sure. I'll ask Snape about Malfoy again and that way I'll be back in the tower before you even make it up there." He made a face, and Ginny rolled her eyes. Hermione however, had abandoned her book in favor of squinting quizzically across the table at Harry. "Did you find something?" he asked her excitedly.

Hermione blinked and her cheeks flushed slowly. She shook her head and began fiddling with her pudding spoon. Harry glanced at Ginny who shrugged, as perplexed as Harry.

"What's wrong, Hermione?" Harry asked finally as his friend continued to stare fixedly at her book.

"It's nothing, Harry," Hermione said quickly, not taking her eyes off the page.

"Oh, just tell him, Hermione," Ron huffed in agitation and Harry swung his eyes around to look at his ginger-haired friend.

"Tell me what?"

Ron ignored the warning look from his girlfriend and said with a shrug, "She's been pestering me for days about when you're going to stop calling him that."

"Ronald!" Hermione slammed her book closed, glaring fiercely at Ron.

Harry looked between the two of them as they glared at one another. "Calling who what?" Harry demanded after the silence had stretched for far too long.

Ron rolled his eyes, "Snape, you dolt," he explained good-naturedly; Harry goggled at his two friends.

"Are you insane, Hermione?" He shook his head in wonderment. "You are," he confirmed as Hermione just stared at him, her lips pressed together defiantly.

"I am not," Hermione denied. "You said yourself that Snape got really angry when you addressed him that way."

"Yeah, because he thinks it's disrespectful to call him anything but 'Professor' or 'sir'. He practically chewed me up last term for being disrespectful," Harry told her.

"Harry."

Harry looked up to find Remus standing over them, a frown on his usually smiling face.

"Is it time, already?" Harry asked, not bothering to cast a Tempus Charm.

Remus shook his head, and then he grasped his ear between his thumb and forefinger and shook the lobe, looking at the four of them pointedly. Oh. Harry had forgotten he'd erected a Silencing Spell around he and his friends after the other Gryffindors nearby had left the table. Harry quickly grabbed his wand and ended the spell. "Sorry," he offered sheepishly.

"Harry, I'd like a word with you," Remus said and Harry immediately tensed at his friend's tone, although Harry could think of nothing he'd done to warrant any sort of lecture from Remus, of all people.

"Is something wrong?" Harry asked hesitantly.

Remus shook his head. "I just need to speak with you for a few moments before we begin your lesson," he explained, beckoning him with his hand to get moving. Harry gave Ginny a quick peck on the cheek and followed Remus out of the Great Hall; he had a hard time keeping up with his friend's uncustomary rapid pace as they hurried through the corridors.

"Remus?" Harry questioned but Remus shook his head, signaling to Harry that whatever words they were going to have needed to be said in private. By the time the two of them reached Remus' classroom office, Harry's stomach was twisted in knots.

As soon as the door was closed and warded, Harry asked, his voice full of dread, "What's going on?"

"Severus is waiting for you," Remus said without preamble.

Harry furrowed his brow in confusion. "Huh? I thought you wanted to talk to me first."

Remus sighed. "I said that for the benefit of listening ears." Harry thought Remus sounded tired, but since it wasn't yet close to the full moon, he could see no reason for him to be out of sorts.

"Snape wants to start early?" Harry asked, the tension in the pit of his stomach tautening again. "Does he have to be somewhere tonight?" he asked, thinking of the horrors of the dream he'd had before they'd begun his Occlumency training.

But Remus shook his head and Harry's tension eased a bit. "Severus wants to speak with you." The knotted muscles pulled themselves tighter.

"What about?" Harry asked curiously.

"Harry, just do as you're told for once," Remus said impatiently, his voice as sharp as Harry had ever heard it.

Stung, Harry couldn't even respond. He turned quickly to hide his face, twisted in hurt as he stepped into the Floo. As Harry threw the Powder down, Remus' mouth opened as though he wanted to say something but the Floo swallowed Harry up, cutting off anything Remus might have said.

And then Harry was stumbling, as he always seemed to do, out of Snape's fireplace. This time, as he toppled, he smacked up against black robes and a hand was reaching behind his back to steady him as he regained his footing. Harry looked up; Snape was standing so close that he could smell the cloves, pungent in his nostrils.

"Sorry," Harry apologized quickly, stepping back a bit. It took longer than necessary for Snape to release him fully though and when he did, Harry recognized the closed expression on the Professor's face and Harry almost wanted to step back into the man's accidental embrace. Then he remembered that Snape wanted to talk, and that Remus had snapped at him, and the feeling evaporated.

Remembrance flashed in Snape's eyes as well and the blank expression shifted to a glower. Harry tensed.

"You cannot erect Privacy Spells in the middle of the Great Hall," Snape said unexpectedly.

Harry frowned in confusion. "That's why you wanted to talk to me?" he asked, feeling all of sudden relieved. He shrugged. "There weren't many students left when I did it. And, it would be hard to notice unless someone was specifically looking for a Privacy Spell," he finished, convinced by the soundness of his own argument. Snape however, seemed considerably less impressed.

"Which they very well could be," the Professor told him sharply.

"Looking specifically for Privacy Spells?" Harry scoffed, completely unconcerned.

Snape narrowed his eyes. "Exactly. Not everyone at Hogwarts is a Gryffindor," he said acidly.

Harry, suddenly alert, pulled himself up a little, ignoring what was most likely an insult. "The Slytherins are spying on me?" he asked in great interest.

"Of course," Snape said as he inclined his head, and Harry could almost see the Potions Master rolling his eyes.

"For Voldemort?"

Snape stared at him as though he was daft and Harry nodded quickly, realizing how stupid the question had been. Of course the Slytherins were spying for their parents' Master. He was itching to ask Snape if Malfoy was spying too; it was not easy to restrain himself.

"Do not use such spells in a public place again," Snape finally told him and on a sigh, Harry agreed. Snape's eyes narrowed slightly in suspicious appraisal before he nodded. "This evening," he went on, changing the subject, "we will test your shields. I will attempt to enter your mind. You will defend yourself."

A chill ran up Harry's spine. Defend yourself.

Harry had to blink several times to clear his mind of last year's failure. He slowly allowed the mist to solidify until the storm inside his mind was raging and Harry buried all thoughts of last year's Occlumency lessons, and Sirius far below the shield. When he was satisfied that he was ready, Harry refocused on Snape, who was watching him with interest.

"You are ready?" the Professor inquired.

Harry nodded. Snape regarded him for a moment longer and then he withdrew his wand. Involuntarily, Harry flinched back as he readied himself for Snape's attack. Snape lowered his wand.

"You are prepared this time. This will not be like last year." Snape's tone was almost soothing and Harry swallowed. He nodded and the Professor raised his wand once more. "Legilimens," Snape said quietly and Harry felt the now familiar intrusion of Snape's presence in his mind.

This presence though was harsher, more insistent and Harry immediately recoiled from it. With an effort, he strengthened his mental shields, urging his Dementor Storm, as he had begun to think of it, to broaden and build. The storm overshadowed the flames that threatened him, pushing the fiery threat backwards and finally extinguishing it completely.

Harry became aware again of Snape standing in front of him as he hunched over slightly, panting from the exertion of forcing the other man out of his thoughts. As he steadied himself, Harry straightened up again. Snape was perfectly collected, not seeming to have been taxed at all by the experience.

Harry smiled faintly at the Professor. "That was better."

Snape nodded. "It was. It will be harder each time."

Harry nodded. "Again?" he asked and Snape nodded, looking pleased at Harry's quick recovery. They dueled for an hour and by the end Harry was struggling ferociously, battling the raging inferno that screamed against his shield. Harry pushed back as hard as he could, but slowly Snape's flames began to overtake Harry's storm. Finally, with one mighty burst of fire, the cloud split in two just as it had the first time and Harry's most buried thoughts assaulted him in a great rush of anguish.

Harry's mum broke free, followed closely by James and Cedric. And finally, the image of Sirius, laughing as he fell back into the veil, pelted upwards and Harry cried out, staggering in sudden weakness.

"Sirius," he gasped, and Harry latched on to whatever was in front of him, to stop himself from falling, gripping fiercely. As the inferno faded slowly out of his mind, Harry recognized the feeling of a well-brushed fabric against his forehead; his fists were twisted up in the same soft material. As it came through the haze of reawakening that it had to be Snape's robes he was clutching, Harry started to pull away but then lightly, almost as though it wasn't there at all, a hand was resting against the back of Harry's head.

The rise and fall of slow, rhythmic breathing calmed the shaking that was rustling quietly through Harry's body. He sucked in a deep breath and realized he was crying, the tears falling silently onto Snape's black vest. He felt a moment's desperate hope that the Potions Master wouldn't notice. Harry struggled for equilibrium, occluding his mind and willing himself to bury the emotions that were beginning to submerge him.

Harry was distracted by the soft vibration of the Professor's chest as he said quietly, "It is not advisable to use your shields to avoid painful emotions."

Unable to stop himself, Harry brought his eyes up, his fingers loosening their death grip on the Professor's robes. Snape was looking down at Harry, straight into his eyes. "I don't know what else to do with them, sir," Harry admitted quietly, wanting to look away but Snape's gaze wouldn't allow it.

"You must allow yourself to grieve," Snape told him simply, his eyes intense. But Harry shook his head, still looking up at Snape.

"I have," Harry tried to tell him and at this Snape shook his head.

"No, you have not." The gentle pressure left his head then, and Harry's heart felt suddenly heavier.

"You only lost Black a few months ago. There has not been enough distance for you to have properly mourned." Harry wanted to disagree, but Snape continued, "When I broke through your shield, the memory of Black was distressing enough that you lost yourself to me for a short time. Your conscious mind was completely overshadowed by mine. You have not accepted your loss."

Harry looked away as the pain coursed through him again. "I can't," he said piteously and then bit his lip, his discomfort threatening to overcome him.

Snape didn't seem to notice. "And you will never accept your godfather's death if you continue to pretend it did not happen."

Although Harry was certain the Professor had not meant it to, his voice had regained some of its harshness, but now Harry did not shy away from it. He was beginning to hear the concern under the thick layer of thorns. Harry only nodded in response and Snape studied him briefly, perhaps measuring how much Harry had taken his words to heart.

"I know," Harry felt compelled to offer, hoping to ease some of the Professor's unspoken concern. Snape, after a pause, nodded briskly. Harry, feeling suddenly drained, sat in one of Snape's chairs, draping himself into its recesses in a comfortable slouch. Harry smiled when Snape raised an eyebrow at him.

"Comfortable, I trust?" Snape asked, a hint of amused sarcasm in his voice.

"Yes, thank you," Harry answered in all seriousness. Snape shook his head slightly and took the chair opposite, and Harry decided that Snape looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"There is something else we need to talk about," Snape began slowly and Harry almost groaned.

"Something else?" he asked, stalling as his stomach clenched.

Snape nodded. "You are aware that there is a trip to Hogsmeade this Saturday?"

Harry nodded, already wary about what Snape could be up to. In the next instant, Snape's face went blank and Harry found himself remembering his posture as he straightened himself in the chair. "I do not think it wise for you to be away from the castle right now," Snape told him, without any inflection and Harry took a discreet breath as he struggled for control. He was not going to miss Hogsmeade...not for another year.

"Why not, sir?" he asked, hoping his voice was as calm as he had planned. Apparently it was, as Snape didn't even blink.

"It is not safe," he said simply.

Harry frowned. "I'll be fine."

Snape shook his head and his face transformed so that he looked very grim. "You misunderstand. I am not giving you a choice."

Harry frowned as he leaned forward. "Order members are crawling all over the place. I'm sure the Headmaster would have given them orders to go to Hogsmeade when I do."

"And you believe members of the Order to be infallible?" Snape asked.

Harry rolled his eyes. "No, but neither are the castle's defenses."

Snape's lips thinned. "You are much safer within its walls."

"And, I'd be even safer if I stayed with my relatives," Harry countered.

Snape leaned forward in his seat now, his eyes growing somehow darker. "You are not going, Harry," he said calmly. Harry sat back against the soft chair. Snape contemplated him for another moment before straightening again. "If you wish, you may spend the day in my private labs with me."

Struggling a bit to process what had just happened, Harry stared at Snape, and then a slow spread over his face. "I'd like that sir."

--

Severus felt a rush of relief at his son's words. He had not expected him to consent so readily to his proposal.

Encouraged, Severus said in a conversational tone, "You decided to take on the Quidditch Captaincy."

For some reason, Harry's cheeks tinged red. "Yeah," he said as he nodded. After a hesitation, he elaborated with a shrug, "I was going to play anyway." Then Harry's face clouded over and Severus raised an eyebrow at his son's sudden change in mood.

"It was your choice," Severus told him, trying to make it clear that he was not angry that he had not taken his advice. Harry looked confused.

Clearly, the boy did not understand Severus' message, but Harry surprised him by saying, "I know, sir."

"Indeed. What then is the matter?" The words of concern came much more easily than Severus would have believed they could.

Harry looked away. Severus waited for Harry to collect himself, recognizing in his son his own habit of tempering an emotional response. When Harry turned back, he said quietly, "It was Remus who asked if I'd play even if I wasn't Captain."

Severus frowned, displeased that either Harry had sought out Lupin's advice or that Lupin had offered it unasked. "And?" he asked, more severely than he had intended. Harry's eyes flashed in irritation, making Severus regret his harsh tone.

"He snapped at me in his office and it bothered me, alright?" Harry huffed. Severus held back a smile as his son crossed his arms across his chest in a decidedly Lily-like gesture. The halted smile seemed to annoy Harry though as he exclaimed, "Just because you don't like him doesn't mean you need to be happy that he upset me!" The hurt on Harry's face was plain.

Severus stared at him, taken aback. He narrowed his eyes as he studied his son. "It does not make me happy that Lupin upset you," he disagreed. It wasn't precisely the truth even if Harry hadn't used the word happy to describe the way Severus was feeling. And he knew perfectly well why Lupin would have been peevish with Harry. Something in Severus' expression must have given him away as Harry was squinting suspiciously at him. Wanting to distract him, Severus asked evenly, "What did Lupin say?"

Harry ignored the question in favor of asking, "Did you say something to him?"

Severus shifted in rare discomfort. He was disinclined to share the conversation he'd had with the werewolf. But Harry was watching him carefully; Severus set his jaw in determination, unwilling to lose the tenuous connection he now had with his son.

"I would not permit Lupin to speak with you about your Silencing Spell," he admitted, occluding his mind. Severus had no wish to lose his temper during the justifiably angry outburst that was sure to follow his statement. But Harry was gazing at him, his face stilled in contemplation.

"Oh," was all he said.

Severus didn't know what to make of Harry's lack of response. Each time he felt as though he was getting to understand his son better, Harry would say or do something that the Professor could not have hoped to account for. The boy was utterly unpredictable and Severus had very little patience for the erratic behaviors that so obviously ruled the boy.

With a small nod, Severus stood slowly from his chair, keeping his movements carefully smooth. Harry was watching him warily though, most likely suspecting that Severus was annoyed. Severus sighed and gestured for his son to stand. Harry complied reluctantly. "No doubt you wish to speak to Lupin," Severus intoned, utterly failing to keep the resentment from his voice.

Harry's face smoothed into a smile and he nodded. Severus tensed. "Yeah, but he won't be expecting me for another thirty minutes yet," Harry noted with a shrug.

Severus' eyebrows almost rose in considerable surprise, but he managed to resist the expression. "Perhaps then, we should use our remaining time in more productive pursuits," he said curtly. Harry's smile didn't falter and Severus wondered briefly if he was allowing his emotions to show far more than he was intending as Harry didn't seem at all fazed by Severus' purposely cold tone.

"Should I try my shields against you again?" Harry asked, interrupting his thoughts.

Severus, feeling unsettled by the aftermath of Harry's last attempt to keep his shields intact, wanted to refuse but it wouldn't do to reveal such weakness to his son, so he nodded in agreement. He need only to apply a fraction of his earlier pressure against Harry's storm, as he had no desire to cause Harry any more pain this evening.

--

Harry had managed to fend off all of Snape's remaining attacks after their short discussion about Remus. He suspected that the Professor was not seeking in earnest to get past his defenses, as he had earlier in the evening. Harry himself was feeling particularly vulnerable and edgy after what had passed between them and it was obvious that Snape felt the same way. But even through his discomfort, he felt happier than he had in months.

"Goodnight, sir," Harry said at the end of the evening, trying not to yawn as he spoke, not wanting Snape to see how much the evening's lesson had drained him.

Snape raised an eyebrow at Harry anyway. "Tired?" he asked, his voice lilting with suppressed sarcasm.

"A bit," Harry admitted and Snape nodded briskly.

"Get some rest. As I noted already, you have stretched yourself far too thinly this term."

Harry wanted to roll his eyes, a reaction that was beginning to feel all too familiar when he was around the Professor. He just nodded though, in favor of leaving without a fight. He was also getting anxious to talk to Remus now that he understood why his friend had been so irritable. Harry wanted to assure Remus that even though he and Snape were getting along better, he didn't want things to change between them.

"I will, sir," Harry promised.

"Goodnight then." Snape's voice, as it always was at the end of the evening, was harsh. Harry nodded at the Professor and threw down the Floo Powder he was grasping, calling for Remus' office.

As soon as Harry appeared in Remus' Floo, his friend stopped his pacing, his face washed in worry.

"Harry," he said quietly, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so brusque with you," his friend apologized quickly as though he had been fretfully waiting to say the words, and the pained look on Remus' face tugged at Harry's heart.

"It's all right, Remus," Harry tried to assure him, but Remus was shaking his head.

"It's not, Harry. Severus and I had words and I-"

"Snape told me," Harry interrupted, wanting to stop the flow of Remus' anxiety. It worked; Remus tilted his head in confusion.

"He did?" he asked.

"Yeah," Harry told him, and then his cheeks warmed slightly as he looked intently at his friend. "Look, Remus, I know Snape's jealous of you....I mean that you and I are close. And, well...I don't want you to worry that..." Harry trailed off uncomfortably, not really knowing what he was trying to say and worrying that he might upset Remus further.

"Harry," Remus said gently as he took a step closer to his young friend. He put his hands securely on Harry's shoulders. Harry looked up into Remus' warm eyes. "I'm afraid the jealousy goes both ways. When Severus told me it wasn't my place to tell you not to use that Silencing Spell, I was envious of the relationship that's developing between the two of you. I was worried about losing you to Severus. I'm sorry I took those feelings out on you, Harry."

Harry's chest was glowing with Remus' words, and not only because of his friend's admission. "I don't want to lose you either, Remus," Harry told the other man thickly.

"Harry," Remus said, his own voice heavy with emotion, "you don't have to worry about losing me."

Harry nodded and not wanting to bawl for a second time that night, he took a deep breath and said shakily, "Thanks."

Remus smiled, seeming somehow to understand that Harry had used up his emotional quota for the day as he gave the boy's shoulders a quick squeeze and then dropped his hands again. "You look exhausted. Did everything go all right?"

"It was just harder than usual. I'm okay though," he told his friend, hoping Remus would just believe him and not ask for details. Remus gave him a look, letting Harry know that he didn't believe him one bit, but that he would respect Harry's wishes, for which the young wizard was grateful.

"Come on. I'll walk you back to the Tower," Remus invited and Harry smiled.

He fell in step beside Remus and they walked through the castle together in companionable silence until they reached the Fat Lady. Trying not to sound too excited, Harry asked suddenly, "Did Snape really say that?"

Remus chuckled softly and shook his head in amusement, obviously knowing that Harry was referring to Snape's demand that he not usurp his new role as Harry's father. "Yes, Harry, he did," Remus assured him. Harry coloured in pleased embarrassment. Remus tried to keep his further amusement at bay. "Go to bed," he told his young friend, giving him a light push toward the portrait.

Still smiling, Harry said, "Pariter," and ducked in through the portrait hole. His smile brightened considerably when he saw Ginny waiting for him on the sofa by the fireplace. He went and sat down next to her. He brushed a light kiss on Ginny's lips. When he pulled back, she was grinning at him, her brown eyes sparkling.

"Well, you're happy. I'm guessing your lesson went well tonight." she said as she closed her Care of Magical Creatures book.

Harry shrugged though, as he thought about the past few hours. "We dueled. It was better than last year though. Snape can actually teach when he tries," Harry admitted. He settled in next to her, putting an arm around her waist and pulling her close.

"But?" Ginny asked, knowing that there was much more to the story.

Harry frowned in thought. "Near the end, Snape broke through my shields; it was even worse than the first time he did it...I sort of lost it," he told her, his voice lowering with discomfort at the memory of crying into Snape's chest.

Ginny squeezed his hand, imparting her strength to him. "What happened?" she asked.

Harry chewed his lower lip. "He was really nice about it. We talked about Sirius....he said I haven't grieved yet for him."

"He's right," Ginny told him gently, leaning further into Harry's side.

"I suppose," Harry said, still not wanting to dwell on this painful topic. He brought his hand up to Ginny's neck and ran his fingers lightly through her soft hair. He was staring into the fireplace as he absently stroked the long tresses. "Gin?" he questioned finally.

"Hmm..." she murmured, enjoying the peace of the empty common room and the warmth of the crackling fire in the hearth.

"Do you think Hermione was right about my calling him Snape?" Harry asked, his voice sounding faraway.

Ginny twisted so she could look at him and she smiled at the mixed expression of hope and uneasiness on his face.

"I don't know," she told him carefully. "How do you feel about calling him Professor?" she asked, gauging his response in the way his eyes darted quickly down to look at her.

"I don't usually don't call him Professor, actually."

"What do you call him, then?" Ginny asked in surprise.

Harry shrugged. "Mostly, just 'sir'," he answered, looking away.

"And, does he seem to mind?"

Harry snorted. "No. Can you imagine Snape objecting to being addressed as 'sir'?" he asked. Ginny didn't answer and Harry smiled again, enjoying watching as her eyebrows furrowed in thought. Impulsively, he leaned down and kissed her softly between her eyebrows. When Ginny looked at him questioningly, Harry teased, "Just trying to smooth out your forehead a bit." Ginny laughed.

"Why don't you try that on my lips, instead?" she asked and Harry obliged, still grinning. The innocent kiss turned quickly into a full-blown snogging session. They were interrupted, of course, by Ron much too soon. Harry sighed as he pulled away from Ginny, wishing his friend didn't have such bad timing.

Ron, looking distinctly disgruntled at finding his little sister in the middle of a snogfest, sat heavily in the chair opposite the pair, frowning fiercely in Harry's direction.

"Ignore him, Harry," Ginny directed as she re-opened her textbook. "He's just annoyed because he's not doing the same thing with Hermione," she said with a smirk.

Ron turned his glare toward his sister and muttered crossly, "Oh, shut up."

"Hey," Harry said lightly as he pulled out quill and parchment from his overly full bag, "don't tell Ginny to 'shut up'." And then when Ron didn't respond, he asked curiously, "You two didn't have a fight, did you?"

"No," Ron said, leaning back in his chair, his glower still firmly in place. "Hermione's in the library researching your mum's Charm. She spends practically every minute in that damn library. She just threw me out...she said I was distracting her too much."

Ginny laughed, but Harry leaned forward, frowning in concern. He didn't want to cause problems between his newly coupled friends. "I'm sorry, mate. I didn't mean for her to spend so much time trying to figure the Charm out. I'll go talk to her if you want."

But Ron shook his head resignedly. "It's not your fault, Harry. Hermione's having a ball trying to solve her little puzzle; she's practically about to explode with excitement down there." He made a face.

"You sure, Ron?" Harry asked, his features still filled with worry. Ron nodded but didn't have time to respond further as Hermione burst into the room, out of breath, her hair in a tangled, sweaty mess around her face.

"Harry," she panted as she rushed over to them, "put up your Privacy Spell." The words were choppy as she tried to catch her breath.

Harry paused, remembering Snape's order not to use the Spell in public. But...this was Gryffindor Tower and technically, it wasn't a public place so he it couldn't really be included in Snape's demand. Ignoring the niggling of his conscious, Harry erected the rather complex spell quickly and Hermione dropped onto the low table in front of Harry; she thrust a thick book at him, the pages splayed open.

"Just look at this, Harry."

Ginny and Ron had crowded around as well, all four of them peering at the paragraphs Hermione was pointing to. Harry squinted at the sentences, trying to understand why Hermione was so excited.

"Impenetrabiilis?" he asked.

Hermione nodded excitedly, pointing over Harry's hand to the second paragraph on the page. "It's like a Protego Charm...I think your mum actually charmed the skin on Snape's arm so that Voldemort's magic couldn't bind with it...the Dark Mark couldn't actually become a part of Snape's arm, like the other Death Eaters'."

"But didn't we already know that, Hermione? I thought we decided there had to be more to the Charm than just a way for Snape to be free from the Mark's pain."

"Harry, look at the third paragraph." Hermione demanded, sounding as though she really was about to burst, just as Ron had foretold.

Harry obeyed, scanning the lines quickly. He goggled at what he read. "But, that's impossible!" he exclaimed as he re-read the sentences.

"I don't think so," Ginny disagreed, who had read quickly over his shoulder. "It says that the kind of 'skin-tattoo magic' that Voldemort used has been around for centuries. If your mum found the Impenetrabiilis Charm from this textbook, it makes sense that she would take it a step further."

Even Ron was nodding by now, seeming to be in full agreement with both girls. "Where did you find this, Hermione?" he asked, flipping the book over so he could scan the title, Interwoven Bodily Charms of the Fifteenth Century.

"Professor Flitwick loaned it to me. I told him I was thinking about doing a special project about Charms used specifically on body parts," Hermione said with a shrug, although she looked quite pleased with herself.

Harry however, was barely paying attention as he tried to figure out just what his mum and Snape had planned so many years ago. It didn't make sense. He said so out loud to his friends, to which Hermione vehemently disagreed. Then Harry, in a mystified voice asked her, "But, then why the hell didn't they finish Voldemort off?"

--

Harry was no closer to an answer the next day as he demonstrated an advanced Reducto Curse on one of the suits of armor which Remus had transfigured for the day's lesson. This particular curse was even more powerful than the one Ginny had used in the Department of Mysteries, but Harry had mastered it quickly and had agreed when Remus asked him to assist some of the other students.

All of the other Slytherins, including Malfoy, had outright refused his help, so Harry concentrated his time instead on the two Ravenclaw girls who had nodded quickly when Harry had asked if they needed help, both of them blushing and giggling. Harry had almost retracted the offer after one of the girls brushed up deliberately against his arm as he'd shown her how to hold the wand.

Instead of abandoning them completely, Harry grabbed Neville to help him demonstrate so he wouldn't have to deal with the giggling girls alone, thinking that Ginny probably wouldn't appreciate their flirting. Neville had mastered the curse quickly enough and after a few minutes of tutoring, Harry had left the girls to Neville and though Neville's cheeks burned with embarrassment, he seemed content enough.

Harry wandered away from Neville, grinning as he listened to his friend stammering an explanation to one of the girls' questions. He watched Ron and Hermione, each taking turns blasting a suit of armor and then headed toward Remus, who was demonstrating the proper pronunciation of the particular incantation. Harry waited patiently until Remus had finished and watched along with the Remus as Seamus reduced the suit of armor to dust. Harry congratulated his ecstatic bunkmate before Seamus went charging over to Dean to show off his newfound skill.

"Your fellows in the D.A. are catching on to everything we do much faster than the rest of the students," Remus mused to Harry, his face gleaming in approval as he watched Dean perform almost as well as Seamus had a moment before.

Harry nodded. "I know. It was a brilliant idea," he agreed, glancing at Hermione and Ron.

Remus followed his gaze. "It was a wonderful idea, Harry. But, you made it work. You gave all those students confidence. Have you ever considered becoming a teacher when you graduate?" he asked, his tone very serious.

But Harry laughed at the thought. "Me?" He shook his head, unable to imagine himself as Professor Potter. "I'm still thinking of becoming an Auror," he told his friend.

"You'd do wonderfully as an Auror," Remus told him as he nodded. Harry and Remus watched as Malfoy and Zabini tried repeatedly to blast a suit of armor, but with little luck. "Harry," Remus said after Malfoy finally managed to turn the suit's head to little bits, "I have a message for you, if you'll stay after class for a few minutes."

"Sure," Harry told him, knowing immediately who the message was from and since Remus hadn't sounded stressed, Harry didn't think there was anything to worry about.

He was glad however when class ended shortly afterward, giving Harry little time to dwell on the possibilities of what Snape could want. Ron and Hermione followed him up to Remus' desk and Remus, though he glanced at his friends briefly, he didn't object to their inclusion.

"Severus spoke to me this morning at breakfast. He wants you to earn yourself a detention in class tomorrow, with behavior severe enough to warrant you missing Hogsmeade on Saturday."

Harry's insides twisted. He didn't like the sound of this at all. "Wouldn't it just be easier to pretend I'm sick?" he asked, not liking the idea of antagonizing Snape in front of the class, no matter how staged it would be.

"I suggested that to Severus, but he insisted," Remus told him, shaking his head a bit, probably in annoyance at Snape's obvious pig-headedness.

Harry rubbed his palms together nervously. "What in Merlin's name does he expect me to do that would be severe enough for him give me a Saturday detention?" he wondered aloud.

"You could blow up a cauldron," Ron suggested, a little too eagerly. "Or...you could hex Malfoy," he added, the glee now evident in his voice.

Harry made a face at him. "I really don't think Snape was thinking along the lines of me hexing one of his Slytherins."

Hermione cut in quickly as Ron tried to make another suggestion. "If you're really disrespectful to him, it would perfectly believable for Snape to get angry enough to give you a detention on a Hogsmeade Saturday."

Harry bit his lip, liking this idea least of all. He would, after all, need to be exceptionally rude to pull that off. For some reason, now that he knew Snape was his father, he just couldn't fathom being purposefully rude to him. So he shook his head. "I don't think I can do that," he told them.

Hermione, instead of looking surprised, nodded as though she understood exactly why Harry wouldn't want to insult Snape. Remus was nodding as well. Ron looked predictably skeptical at the idea that Harry couldn't find some sort of insult to throw at Snape.

--

Harry was so nervous about Potions class the next day, he was very nearly late; he slid into his seat just as Snape was storming into the classroom. Harry breathed a sigh of relief only to have it hitch again with anxiety as Snape glared down at him as he scrambled to assemble his ingredients.

"Five points for tardiness, Potter," he snapped and Harry felt the heat of anger rising in his cheeks; other students were still assembling their own ingredients. Harry just hoped this was part of the Potions Master's act.

It was hard to believe though as Snape continued to glare at him until Harry finally muttered, "Yes, sir."

Snape spun away from him and began lecturing the class, calling on students randomly. He called on Harry somewhere in the middle of the lecture and when Harry wasn't able to answer the question to Snape's satisfaction, the Professor sneered, "You do realize, Potter, that this is N.E.W.T. level Potions...or did you think you had stumbled into a first year class?"

"No, sir," Harry bit out, trying desperately not to snap at the man. What the hell did Snape think he was doing?

Snape regarded Harry coldly. "Your answers are frequently pedantic and lacking in any coherent thought; perhaps a day spent with first years would do you some good."

"And perhaps a day spent with anyone other than Death Eaters would do you some good, you-" Harry snapped, only just stopping himself from calling the Potions Master something he would definitely regret later.

Snape's eyes narrowed and the expression on his face became positively grim. "Mind your tongue, Potter, before you find it in one of the jars in my private stores...I think a detention this evening will encourage you to keep a civil tone when you are speaking to me."

Harry's own eyes narrowed as he glared at Snape. Detention tonight? What had happened to a Saturday detention? This definitely wasn't an act then, Harry realized as he sat staring at the Professor, whose black eyes by now were boring into Harry's. Harry knew the man was waiting for a response; well, he could wait the rest of class...he wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. Not if Snape was going to play by the old rules.

"Have your ears been clogged by a Deafening Potion, Potter?" Snape finally spat, taking a step closer to Harry's table.

"No," Harry assured the angry Professor, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Then you will answer me when I speak to you." Snape's snarled command echoed in the now silent classroom; all eyes were on Harry and Snape, most mouths twisted in surprise at Harry's behavior. The Slytherins, of course, were all smirking...even Malfoy this time.

"If you prefer," Harry said with an overconfident shrug. A vein began to pulse in Snape's temple and Harry knew he'd gone too far. He swallowed nervously as Snape advanced on him. Snape leaned down toward Harry, his palms resting on the table, in a fair imitation of their first meeting after Harry's third trip into the Pensieve.

Harry leaned back.

"Your insolence will not be tolerated, Potter. Your have just lost yourself Hogsmeade privileges this Saturday. Now-get-out-of-my-classroom." Each word was an explosive syllable and Harry, with ice clenching up against his heart, shoved himself to his feet. He fumbled for his bag, trying to ignore the stares of his classmates as he turned swiftly toward the door.

Once he had escaped the classroom, Harry kept going, swiftly navigating the winding corridors of the dungeons almost without thought. When he reached the ground floor again, he continued through the entrance doors and onto the grounds, his pace rapidly increasing to a run. Harry had no idea where he was going. He just wanted to get away. From everything.

--

Severus brought his hands to his temple and rubbed at the burgeoning headache with his fingertips as he watched the students entering the Great Hall for dinner. Why for Merlin's sake, hadn't he just taken the wolf's advice and allowed Harry to feign an illness on Saturday? Severus knew the answer of course, but even the promise of the Dark Lord's downfall seemed insignificant next to the prospect of losing his son again.

He hadn't meant to let his temper turn the conversation quite so ugly. But Severus had seen the look on his son's face when he'd told him to get out, and the Potions Master knew instantly that he'd taken the charade too far. Harry's obvious discomfort and confusion about Severus' intentions at the beginning of the class had stirred feelings of pain in him and he'd wanted to end the chance of any more interactions with Harry. Harry's expulsion from the classroom had seemed the ideal solution...until Severus had to watch his son flee from the room, like some sort of frightened animal.

Of course, his annoyance with Harry had already been firmly in place before class had even begun. Severus was well aware that the boy had ignored his clear instruction not to raise a Privacy Shield where others could discover it. He supposed however, that it had been an inappropriate time to vent his frustration. But why was it that Harry couldn't even follow the simplest instructions?

And Severus hadn't been expecting Harry's verbal sparring to be quite so cutting and though he didn't like to admit it, his son's comment about Death Eaters had wounded him. Especially because the Potions Master knew Harry had insulted him in anger, not with any calculation. Severus tried to put aside the pointless recriminations. He would simply explain to Harry during his 'detention' that he had planned the initial remarks. Perhaps then, his son would not need to hold on to any lingering distress.

Severus thoughts had wandered along the same path for the better part of the past few hours and he was frankly relieved that in less than an hour, Harry would arrive in his classroom and they could end this discomfort. Severus scanned the room for Harry as the students continued to trickle into the room.

He narrowed his eyes as he saw Weasley and Ms. Granger, his son's constant companions, enter the room alone. Ms. Weasley came in soon after that, hurrying to her brother and Ms. Granger. Ms. Weasley spoke, which was followed by a nervous shrug from Ms. Granger. A few more words passed between the clearly confused trio and then the Weasley girl's eyes flashed up to Severus, her face lit in angry accusation. Then she said something to Harry's other friends before spinning on her heel, and stomping from the room, leaving two very worried-looking Gryffindors in her wake. Severus watched her go, his mind working feverishly.

"Severus," Lupin greeted him as he took his place beside the Potions Master. Severus knew immediately from Lupin's easy tone that Harry had not gone to the werewolf to discuss this afternoon's events. Instead of the information relieving him, Severus' gut clenched in panic.

Harry had clearly been distraught earlier and if he hadn't spoken with Lupin and if he wasn't in the Great Hall as his friends thought he should have been, then where the hell was he? Without a word, Severus stood up and hurried out of the Great Hall, not caring in the least that Minerva would most likely want to have words about his abrupt departure from dinner.