Harry approached the door with caution, tentatively placing his hand on the door handle. Solidifying his resolve, he pushed the door open to be greeted with the sight of his professor calmly marking essays. He momentarily cursed his stupidity for forgetting to knock, but it wasn't as if he were unexpected.

"Mr. Potter."

The words were silky, and Harry couldn't help but to feel dirtied as his name slid past smirking lips.

Feeling rather uncomfortable, Harry shifted his weight, wondering how the lesson would unfold.

"Did you bring your text?"

A heavy book was pulled out of his satchel in response.

"I believe we will start with where we are in the class and move on from there."

While Harry hadn't been expecting a tutoring session, he nodded, ready to demonstrate the shielding spell specialized in evisceration curses that had been taught earlier that day.

After a simple test to make sure he was indeed able to perform the incantation, and rather effortlessly so, a twisted smile spread across Nero's face.

"Moving onto more important matters, let's begin with the basic evisceration curse that, while easily blocked, has the capability of doing a bit of damage on the battlefield."

Harry's eyes narrowed in suspicion – certainly the curse shouldn't be taught at Hogwarts. Nevertheless, he submitted to his increasingly dangerous professor and his questionable lesson plan.


A comfortable routine had been established for his extra lessons with Professor Nero, although Harry had yet to find the lessons themselves comforting. Actually, they were quite unnerving. Nero would observe him with scrutiny as he would practice the material. And really, Harry felt he should be rather uncomfortable with the amount of dark magic he was being taught. But magic was magic and when it came down to it, he was willing to perform a bit of dark if it meant lives would be saved.


"Harry, pay attention!" Hermione viciously hissed from his left. For the umpteenth time, Harry felt his head snap upwards as he attempted to stay awake. It wasn't his fault that the lengthening private lessons were cutting into the time he would normally use for studying, resulting in late night cramming. Alright, maybe it was his fault, but he'd covered this material two weeks ago.

When it came time to practice the spell, Harry carelessly flicked his wand, succeeding in both casting the tracking charm and shutting Hermione up. As he proceeded to attempt sleeping with his eyes open, he noticed Hermione studying him cautiously after successfully casting on her third try.


"The general consensus amongst the staff is that while your performance is stable, your ability to focus in class is diminishing. The bags under your eyes are rather telling. Perhaps it would be best to shorten these lessons."

It was indeed true that what had started as 3 hours a week had nearly tripled in length. But the more knowledge he acquired, the more Harry felt the world's weight bear down on his shoulders. There was so much to learn that the general curriculum couldn't provide – information that Professor Nero was offering him on a silver platter. Chewing the bottom of his lip, Harry reluctantly nodded. Perhaps sleeping through his classes wasn't the best course of action.

"Perhaps…I would be willing to offer a few hours on the weekend. We wouldn't want our boy hero to die before saving the world."

Harry blinked at the callous mention of his fate. It wasn't spiteful like Snape's comments on his status as resident-Dark-Lord-slayer, but rather blasé in a way that made the entire prospect seem ludicrous. Cracking a smile and forgetting that he disliked his professor, he replied.

"You mean I won't defeat Voldemort by transfiguring him into a tea kettle?" which earned him a rather toothy and fervent smile.


The tutoring sessions became…he had to admit…fun. Harry, naturally talented in Defense Against the Dark Arts, picked up the material with surprising speed. Even Professor Nero was shocked at the rate the lessons progressed. The two managed to develop a working relationship peppered with bouts of dark humor. Sure, the man knew too much, but Harry long forgot his suspicions about the professor and looked to him as a mentor. He had never felt more confident. It was November and he had almost made it through the seventh year DADA material. He was a little worried that the lessons would stop once he made it through the large tome, but he did not let it bother him. All in all life was going extremely well for one Harry Potter.

But that was when the dreams started, and Harry found that his happiness was rather short lived.