Chapter 2: And through the night, so it seems I'm not breathing

Harry was reading through heavy lidded eyes as his weary head began drooping. His muscles gave out from complete exhaustion, and his head snapped back up as a result. He tried his best to rub the sleep from his eyes. The sun had risen a couple hours ago, and it would soon be time to make the Dursleys their breakfast. He was almost glad for this, as the laboring would help him stay awake.

Harry scoffed at himself. Why he had decided to read the new book required for Professor Trelawney's class in order to stay awake was beyond him. Well, it was either that or the new book for potions class, as Hedwig had returned from the Weasley's just yesterday with the two new books required for next term. "Thank you Mrs. Weasley," Harry thought to himself. "If it weren't for her I would never have any of my supplies."

He knew that the Dursleys would rather die than help him get ready for freak school. They only drop him off at the train because they're ecstatic to be rid of him for the school year, and they don't want any trouble from Dumbledore. One of their biggest fears would be having a wizard or witch psycho coming to their house to collect Harry. The whole neighborhood would find out and thus ruin their squeaky clean, boring muggle existence.

It was then that Harry heard rustling in the next room. He rolled his eyes. It was much easier to like the Dursleys when they were asleep. Sighing, he got out of bed and padded down stairs to begin breakfast.

Harry's back ached and burned with every move he made. From reaching up high to get the coffee mugs out, to bending down in order to retrieve a pan to cook eggs in. He held his grimacing inward, however, as there was no need to receive more punishment for "moaning and groaning".

"Good morning my sweet Duddy-kins!"

Harry snickered at seeing his aunt, complete with a fluffy pink robe and bunny slippers, kissing and cooing at his generously proportioned cousin.

At the sound of his quiet chuckling, his aunt looked up at him with a scowl. "And you," she began, pointing a bony finger in Harry's direction. "I thought we said you were to have breakfast ready for us when we got up, and you're just now starting it? Oh, your uncle will not be happy about this, not happy at all. You'd better hope it's done by the time he gets out of the shower."

"I'm amazed he can get IN the shower," Harry thought to himself with a smirk. "Yes, aunt Petunia," he came back sweetly.

Harry began cooking the eggs and bacon as the coffee brewed. He couldn't help but glower, when his aunt and cousin weren't looking of course. Not that they looked at him much except to bark orders. Most families would be doing special things for him today. A real family would be sad he was leaving and want to make him a special breakfast. Not the Dursleys though, never the Dursleys. He would be lucky if his uncle told him "Don't let the door hit you in the arse on your way out," because usually Vernon would want the door to hit Harry, and hit him hard.

Luckily, Harry did have breakfast ready before his uncle came waddling down the stairs. That didn't stop his aunt, however, from telling Vernon that Harry had practically "slept in". He got a right good scolding for that.

Harry wished he could sleep in. His dreams wouldn't allow that, though. It seemed they got worse every night, and the exhaustion of only getting a few hours sleep each night was slowly catching up with him, more than he knew.

He had made it through the rest of the morning, and just a few hours later he was removing his trunk and Hedwig from his uncle's car. None of the Dursleys got out of the vehicle to help him with his things, and just as Harry had shut the door, the car screeched off, leaving the young boy in a cloud of dust.

"Right. Well, thanks for seeing me off then," Harry commented sardonically.

He then bolted toward the brick wall that would take him to the Hogwarts Express. He didn't care how he looked to the surrounding muggles, tearing off with his large trunk and caged owl, all he cared was that the sooner he was on platform nine and three quarters, the sooner he'd be away from summer. He really hated the summers.

Closing his eyes tightly, he ran through the wall and straight into the legs of one Rubeus Hagrid.

"What the-? 'arry!" the voice boomed.

Before Harry could stop him, the giant man lifted him off of his feet in a bear hug, squeezing the life out of the younger boy.

Harry's eyes shut tightly, his face turning to a grimace as he tried not to yell in pain. Hagrid's bear hug was doing nothing to help his aching back.

"Mmmph! Hagrid, it's good to see you too! But please, put me down!"

Hagrid's face fell at the pleading in Harry's voice. "Well sure 'arry," he said slowly as he set the boy down. "What's wrong with yeh?"

A meek expression covered the boys face. "Nothing Hagrid, just a bad sunburn is all."

A concerned look covered the larger-than-life man's face. "But, yeh don' look red…"

"HARRY!"

The Boy-Who-Lived whipped around to see Hermione running toward him. A large smile graced his face. It was so good to see her, and she had managed to get him out of a rather sticky situation.

He held open his arms as the bushy haired girl jumped into him. She squeezed him with all her might, but luckily, it was around his shoulders.

"It's so good to see you!"

"You too!" Harry smiled widely into his friend's shoulder.

As they released each other, Harry saw a familiar looking head of red hair walking toward them.

Ron had a huge smile on his face as the two boys shook hands.

"Good to see you, Harry. You look taller," Ron commented with a smirk.

"Thanks. Your hair looks redder," Harry came back with a grin.

An appalled look crossed Ron's face as he attempted to cover his hair with his hands. "It does?" he questioned dramatically.

Harry and Hermione laughed before consoling Ron that, no, his hair looked fine.

The commotion went on for a few minutes as the three of them continued saying their hellos and asking about each other's summers. It wasn't until the train whistle blew that Hagrid began ushering them all off toward the train.

"Off yeh go!" he bellowed, literally pushing the three teenagers with his two massive hands. "We'll be seein' more o' each other soon!"

The train ride to Hogwarts had been pretty uneventful, all except for Draco Malfoy's appearance to mock the three friends. Harry swore that Malfoy had a schedule that he kept, with exact times and dates to come and bother them. He was good at ignoring the slimy Slytherin these days though. Well, better than he used to be.

The Great Hall and its feast was just as amazing as it always was. Lit candles floated delicately above them as the tables filled themselves with the most amazing food. There was everything from whole turkeys to broiled salmon, fresh-baked cookies to a breathtaking seven layer double chocolate cake. Harry could never eat as much of it as he wanted to, most likely because his stomach had shrunk over the summer due to an inadequate amount of food.

As he pushed his plate of half-eaten food away and turned to say something to Ron, his eyes met with those of Professor Snape, who was sitting at the head table with the other professors. They stared at each other for a moment, Snape's face expressionless with a piercing gaze that was unwavering.

Ron took notice of Harry and Snape's staring contest a few moments later.

"Why do you think he's looking at you like that?" Ron questioned quietly.

Harry kept his eyes on the dark-robed Professor. "Probably trying to come up with his first insult of the year for me," Harry answered.

Ron snorted, shaking his head. "Come on Harry, let's go see Hermione in the common room," he beckoned, pulling his friend's arm to make him stop staring at Snape. "You two can scowl at each other all you want in our first Potions class."

Harry came back to reality as he turned from Snape and began walking out of the Great Hall. He sighed heavily. "Tell me again why we volunteered to take another year of Potions?"

Ron chuckled. "Because our stupid arses decided we wanted to be Aurors," he answered as he clapped his friend on the back.

Harry winced, but Ron did not notice as he continued.

"How pissed do you think Snape was when he found that we had both passed his section in the O.W.L.S.? I'll bet he about right committed himself, thinking he'd gone mad."

Harry laughed at this as they continued walking. "I wish he would have, then the two of us wouldn't have to deal with him."

Ron nodded his head in agreement. He then plastered his face with a scowl and began imitating the deep voice of the Potions master. "You two are so feeble minded, you wouldn't know a bat liver from the lung of a lacewing fly."

Both friends began laughing at Ron's impression, as it was rather good.

"Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley."

Both Gryffindor's stopped laughing, neither needed to turn around as they immediately recognized the silky voice of their potions professor.

They heard the soft footsteps of the older wizard coming up closer behind them. They glanced at each other quickly, a nervous look gracing their features. They seemed to be asking each other the same pleading question with their eyes. "There was no way he could have heard us imitating him. He was too far away, right?"

"Surely you two at least have the manners to look at someone when they are speaking?"

Ron swallowed nervously as the two boys slowly turned around.

Professor Snape smirked at the two. They were so predictable. Potter with his look of defiance and Weasley looking uncomfortable, as though he were about to be sick.

"Professor," Harry began with a curt nod. "We were just heading to the common room and-"

"I know where it was you were going, Potter," Snape said with annoyance.

"Well great then!" Ron interjected with a scared smile. "Good catching up with you, sir! We'll just be on our way then…"

As Harry and Ron turned around to make a dash for the stairway, they were stopped mid-step by a strong hand gripping each of their shoulders.

Snape sighed angrily. "Don't make me chase you, Potter. I haven't got all day."

Harry turned around, looking quizzically up at his professor. "Sir?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No doubt you two assume that I have nothing better to do with my time than stalk students. Be that as it may I, unfortunately, must speak with Mr. Potter alone."

Ron stood there awkwardly, looking nervously between his best friend and his most feared professor.

Snape sighed exasperatedly. "Off you go, Weasley," he said with impatience.

Ron jumped at this, as though his legs suddenly became unglued from the floor. "Right," he said with an uneasy look. "I'll just be going then. Maybe catch up on some reading," he added lamely as he began walking away.

"Good idea," Snape called after him. "Perhaps you should start with the remedial Potions book. You'll find, if you actually read it, that insects don't have lungs, Mr. Weasley."

The professor sneered as he saw Ron's walking had ceased, the young boy's shoulders tensing. Wordlessly, the red haired boy began walking again, more quickly paced now. He was grumbling under his breath about sneaky professors and their superhuman hearing.

Harry couldn't help but chuckle at how fast Ron could walk without actually breaking into a run.

"Glad to see that your friend's lack of education amuses you so."

The boy's lanky body turned to face the professor. "The only thing that is amusing, sir, is the fact that you seem to intimidate him," Harry finished bravely.

The professor's eyebrows raised ever so slightly, his dark eyes carefully regarding the young man who stood before him. "Come then, Potter." Snape began walking away, his robes billowing out from behind him. "There will be plenty of time left this year for insulting each other. However, as of right now, we have business to attend to."

Harry watched with surprise as his professor began walking away, without so much as a snide comeback. He jogged to catch up with Snape's long strides, following closely behind as the older man led them down a winding staircase and into Snape's office.

Harry gulped. He had remembered what happened the last time he was in here. How could he forget, really? He had looked into the pensieve and had seen something he was never meant to know about. Snape had been so angry that day. Harry had never seen his professor that mad, and that was saying something.

The professor caught Harry looking wearily at the pensieve. "Reliving fond memories are we, Potter?" he asked with a dangerous look.

"N-no sir," Harry faltered.

The corners of Snape's mouth twisted upward ever so slightly at the boys obvious stammering.

Harry inwardly cursed himself. The man was so much more intimidating when you were locked in a dark dungeon with him.

The young boy watched as his professor took a couple vials of some sort of potion out of his robes and placed them neatly onto a shelf. The man then headed toward his desk, sitting down and beckoning Harry to do so as well.

They sat across from each other, the professor smoothing out his shirt before locking eyes with the young boy. Now that he was alone with Harry, and only a few feet away, he began looking the boy over. Even from the distance between them in the Great Hall, he could tell that something was off. Now he could see just how bad Harry looked, worse than he usually did during the first week of school. He was thin, too thin, that much was obvious. His face was pale, almost sickly, and his eyes betrayed him worst of all. All Snape had to do was look Harry in the eyes to tell exactly what the boy was thinking and feeling. He was exhausted, and very depressed. Snape sat up straighter as he observed this. It wasn't his job to be the boy's psychiatrist; he had something of importance to discuss.

"It seems," the potions professor began with a look of indifference, "that I am to resume Occlumency lessons with you."

Harry couldn't stop his jaw from dropping in horror. "What?"

Snape folded his hands on his desk, his long, dark hair falling over his face as he leaned forward ever so slightly. "Professor Dumbledore, a-and I," Snape choked out, "feel it would be best for us to resume the skill what with the... promise of the Dark Lord's return."

"But-but sir?" Harry began in disbelief. "You remember what happened last time?-"

"Of course I remember, Potter," the professor growled.

Harry tensed in his chair at the anger in Snape's voice.

"As long as you resist the urge to snoop around my belongings," Snape gestured pointedly to the pensieve, "and actually commit yourself to practicing this time, I don't see the two of us having any problems. Am I understood?"

Harry nodded quickly.

Snape leaned back into his chair, crossing his arms as his face relaxed.

"Do you have anything you'd like to add?" he questioned coolly.

"Yeah, this is bloody ridiculous," Harry thought to himself as he scowled. "When do we start, sir?"

Snape stood from his seat, gazing down at the boy who always did his best to put on a brave face. "No time like the present."

Harry's brave face evaporated. "Bloody hell," he mumbled, slumping into his seat.

To be continued…