An: Remember to pay attention to the scene breakers:the ones like this – ō.ō&ö.ö – denotes a dream sequence and the ones like this – Ò.Ô&Ő.Ő– denotes a time when they are awake.

Also, there is a section here that Severus is saying exactly what JK wrote in the books. I am not going to claim any credit for that. It's during a Remedial Potions lesson.

I totally forgot and now a very apologetic Ree wishes to express her thanks to Yen. Ever single one of my steady readers - even if it is just this tale - knows that this story could not be what it is without her. Trust me and know that loopsholes were closed, angst was added, and just every little part of this chapter is better because of her. She went through this five times to make it the way you see it now.

I Know You

ō.ō&ö.ö

"I had a dream." Harold began and paused when Severus started laughing. It was always a treat to get him to laugh, but this was not the time. He shoved the older man's shoulder. "Yes, I know. This is a dream too, but normally I only dream of you like this."

Severus' laughter cut off abruptly. "Who else have you seen?"

"That's just it. I dreamed I was a… creature and I hurt someone. It felt as real as laying here on this bed. The worst part is, I told someone and they found that person. They were truly hurt by that creature." Harry pushed up his glasses to rub his eyes. "Then when the Headmaster looked at me, just before he sent me away, I felt like that creature again, and I wanted to hurt him."

Severus stared at Harold. His face stayed blank while he thought through everything.

Harold fidgeted with the cover on the bed as he waited for Severus to finally condemn him for being unnatural enough to slip into other people's dreams. Not once in all their dream encounters had Severus done so and Harold had even stopped thinking how strange it was as the years went by, but now that he had accessed a creature's mind, he was sure Severus would comment on it.

"We have never learned how you are travelling here, nor why." Severus held up a hand, quieting Harold before the words he could see on the tip of his tongue fell off. "I know at least on my side, I didn't really care, just as long as you came."

Harold nodded in agreement, more relieved than he wanted to admit.

"But now, we have to figure out how to protect your mind. Something you don't want is coming in. There has to be some sort of magic that allows them to enter, so there must be a counter. If there isn't, then we need to create one. For once, this time difference might be useful. We are stretching to a month apart now for me, but for you, how long is it between visits?"

Severus searched the scared face while waiting for Harold's answer, relieved to see the fear slowly slipping away.

"I am coming here every other day."

"So, that means I have time to look into things and learn them so I can teach you how to protect yourself. You need to do whatever you can think of to keep those dreams from happening."

ō.ō&ö.ö

"I found it, Harold." Severus dropped onto the edge of his bed as he watched Harold pace back and forth. His revelation had his green-eyed friend turning about quickly to look at him, hope filling his face. "There is a very, very rare branch of magic called Mind Magic, so rare it was hard to find that it even existed. It is as if the Wizarding World wanted it to be forgotten."

Harold sank down onto one of the chairs. "Can you teach it to me? Those dreams … now I keep dreaming I am walking down a corridor with lots of doors that won't open. I don't even know what I'm doing there."

Severus pressed his lips together tightly. "Not yet. I found out that the two branches are Legilimency and Occlumency. Legilimency allows the spell caster to see into a person's mind, this might be what you are experiencing. The caster is literally in your brain. Occlumency stops the Legilimency practitioner from getting in. I am going through as many libraries and book stores as possible to find any information on the two, or at least on Occlumency."

Harold slumped in the seat, knowing the solution was still a long way off. Then he shook his head and sat up straight, giving a bright smile. "So, what is happening in your life now?"

Ò.Ô&Ő.Ő

Harry stepped into Snape's office, hoping Snape would be able to teach him Occlumency. It had taken a bit of effort not to reveal he knew what it was back at Grimmauld Place when he was first told of the news especially when he found out that even Sirius had no clue what Occlumency truly was. The only thing that had stopped Harry from jumping for joy was the fact that Snape would be teaching him.

His steps stopped in front of Snape's desk, and the lesson began.

The opening conversation was simple. Harry just had to pretend he had no clue what was going on, which was mostly true. He was hoping he could gather enough information to tell Severus later if he dreamed of him that evening. Anything that could be useful, which meant he had to act stupid and idiotic. Once again, that was a habit easy to fall into. Unfortunately, it had the side effect of making Snape even more irate with him, which set off his own temper.

It wasn't until Harry had settled in his bed that night he finally remembered the last bit of instructions he had received from Snape. 'I need to clear my mind of every emotion, make it a blank slate. I certainly failed that tonight in his office. He kept pushing, not giving me a chance to focus or try.'

Sighing lightly, he attempted to wash the feelings out his mind. 'Breathe, that is the first step to calming down. Take a deep breath and push out the negativity.' Obeying his own orders, he eventually succeeded in ridding himself of at least the negative emotions and drifted off to sleep, hoping to see Severus soon.

ō.ō&ö.ö

"How did the Occlumency lesson go?" Severus leaned back in his seat, parchment and quill at hand, ready to write down any information Harold told him.

"I told you my Potions Professor is teaching me, right?" Harold waited until Severus nodded. "That should give you a clue as to how it went."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "We have come to the conclusion he doesn't like you and will take it out against you at any given moment, but he does impart useful information. Forget the first part and fill me in on the last part."

"I was going to!" Harold grinned at the exasperated expression and ignored the pang in his chest. He would enjoy all the time he could with Severus. "He said it was like fighting off the Imperius Curse, to clear my mind, and to let go of all emotions."

Severus jotted down the advice before looking back at Harold. "How did it go?"

Harold looked down at the floor and kicked at a dust bunny forming near one of the bed's legs. "Horrible. I didn't get a chance to focus on resisting him the first time."

"Hold on, he was actually trying to break into your mind? He is a Legilimens?"

"Yes, he was, and yes, he is." Harold sighed at the look on Severus' face which meant he was about to be cross-examined for every last bit of information he had. "It is not a fun experience. You can see lots of memories rushing through your mind and you don't notice anything else. That part doesn't hurt, but it takes a lot of effort to try to get the caster out. I never figured out how to. Well, once I hit him with a stinging hex by accident, but it stopped the attack."

Severus nodded and jotted another note onto the corner of his parchment.

"That was when he told me to clear my mind of emotions and such. Any rate, after all that – he tried a number of times and I kept getting madder at him. He finally sent me away with instructions to clear my mind of all emotions before I went to sleep."

Shaking his head, Severus looked at the teen sitting on his bed. "You didn't take a moment to breathe, did you? So you lost your temper or almost did so, and then failed at your task."

Harold growled under his breath. "He didn't give me a chance!"

"No, he didn't, but we already confirmed he doesn't like you, so he isn't going to make this easy on you. Did you work on clearing your mind before going to sleep?" Severus waited for the explosion he was sure was going to happen. Harold's fingers were rhythmically clamping and releasing around the covers on his bed.

"Yes! I did the breathing that we do to control our anger. It helped with the negative emotions at least." Sighing, Harold released the covers and smoothed them down. "He never told me how to do it though. He never explained what I needed to do."

Severus looked at the list he had jotted down. "I think he did, but his dislike for you made him act horrible for the first lesson. I think he expects you to want this done as much as he does and will therefore work really hard at what he told you to do."

Harold got up off of the bed and moved to look over the list Severus had jotted down before casting a doubtful eye at his friend. "How can that be telling me what to do?"

"Because everyone empties their mind differently. You might think of flying while I think of the fumes rising over a cauldron. Or maybe you would think of the darkness inside your cupboard while I thought of a blank sheet of paper. Different things make all other thoughts pale and fade for different people."

He watched as Harold's eyes widened before he continued. "Controlling emotions works the same way, everyone does it differently. Some bottle them up; some act, scream, or cry them out; others meditate; still others let them fall like leaves onto the ground … it all depends on who you are and how strongly you feel. Once again, you and I have a harder time with this, but we also have an easier time. We have had years to learn to control our emotions, to hide them behind a facade of calm or whatever emotion will best suit the situation. Whatever will get us out of a situation with all our limbs undamaged and food being allowed." Severus stopped when Harold snorted.

"So, I learned to control my emotions to get food?" Harold made sure to inject a teasing note into his voice. "Now where have I heard of such an experiment…?"

"You learned which ones to show based on your relatives' mood so you could get fed. I learned which ones to show to avoid my father's fist." Severus shook his head and pulled himself back to the topic at hand. "So, we haven't banished our emotions out of our minds completely, but we know how to deal with them and how to manipulate them. Well, I know, but you are still going through those dreaded teenage hormones. This is going to be harder on you." That last bit was said with a slight smirk.

Bristling, Harold folded his arms and glared at Severus. "I've thrown off an Imperius Curse! Not many people can do that!"

Severus just gave a patient nod. "That might be why your Potions Master thinks you can do this. You know how to throw it off, so you have the willpower to toss someone out of your mind. Maybe it works the same way." He leaned forward, his gaze intent. "Any rate, you know distracting the Legilimens with a spell works. I would suggest learning how to cast while being attacked just in case you have problems with shielding. It won't help with the dreams though."

Harold shook his head. "No, but the Potions Master did say the Dark One was a skilled Legilimens. If I end up in a bad time with him again, it might be useful to know."

Severus' eyes widened. "That makes the need for me to learn this even more important."

Ò.Ô&Ő.Ő

Harry stood outside of Snape's office door. He had always dreaded this room, it belonged to Snape after all, and that man always seemed to be out to get him. To find fault with him. Staring at the wooded surface, he tried to settle his emotions. This was the fourth time he had come for his Remedial Potions lessons. A smile tugged at the side of his mouth as he remembered Severus' reaction to the name. 'He fell over laughing on the bed and then suggested if I really needed Remedial Potions lessons he would be more than willing to teach me. Then he summoned one of his mastery books and dropped it in my lap and told me to get started.'

Shaking the memory of Severus' gleeful face out of his head, he returned his thoughts to the door before him. He had been trying, there was no way he wanted to be a snake again and the information that he could gain from that was negligible. He knew, even though it was tempting and far more than he was being told, it wasn't worth the possible repercussions. 'I don't know how I am getting there, so I don't know if I can always come back. I don't mind the idea of being stuck inside of Severus too much though, but Voldemort is not where I want to be. Also, Voldemort is coming back with me, it isn't just me entering his mind. How else am I seeing these things and feeling them? It has to be a two way street. NOT what I want.'

Taking a deep breath, Harry knocked on the door. He didn't want to be late.

"Come in."

Snape's voice coming through the wood sounded just as dangerous as a snake hissing in the grass near his feet. Harry garnered up his courage and did as he was told. It was time to have his mind plundered and his knees bruised.

Harry decided after the second time of landing on the floor, his hands barely catching him, that these types of lessons should be taught sitting down with a pillow or at least a rug before him. Stone did not give very well when flesh hit it. 'Snape would just say that if I had succeeded in blocking him, then it wouldn't matter. Or that the stone should help me to remember to try harder.'

Shaking his head, he stood once more to try again, making sure his wand was still in his hand.

"One more time, Potter. Do try to keep me out." Snape raised his wand. "One – two – three – Legilimens!"

Harry pushed at the mind forcing its way into his, trying to make it go away the same way he had thrown off the fake Moody's Imperius last year. It didn't work; Crouch junior was a weakling compared to Snape. When Dementors started to swirl around the edges of his vision, Harry knew he didn't want to see any memory associated with them. He decided to do what Severus has suggested: throw a spell at the Legilimens that was strong enough to distract them.

"Protego!"

Suddenly, memories that were not his started flying through his mind. A hooked-nosed man shouting … a greasy haired teen in a dim bedroom shooting flies down … a girl laughing as a scrawny boy attempted to mount a bucking broomstick –

"Enough!"

Harry had been thrown backwards, but he didn't feel the hard edge of a shelf pressing into his back, nor the fluids of the now cracked jars on it leaking into his robes. He barely heard the Reparo that was sent past him, his mind stunned and totally locked on that boy, the one trying to mount the broom.

He knew that face; he had seen it!

He knew that incident; it had been recounted to him!

He knew that dim bedroom as well; he had sat on that bed and written at that desk. He had practised spells there, and had been chided and scolded by the teenager who was shooting those flies.

A trembling started down deep in Harry's stomach and spread through his body, weakening his limbs and crawling up to his heart, making it pound quicker. Snape was standing in front of him, but no, it was Severus. Severus was alive! 'But how can my Potions Professor be Severus? They are nothing alike – nothing at all! I mean, look at him! Sure, he's tall and he has dark hair and dark eyes, pale skin, eyebrow conversations... just like … Severus. But … but Snape is bitter and angry, not like Severus! Severus wouldn't do all those things, say all those things to me! Would he?'

Squeezing his eyes shut, Harry pulled in a deep, shuddering breath. His years of practice at controlling his emotions came to his aid, enabling him to silence the voice in his head that was wailing in disbelief. He opened his eyes again and watched as Snape – no, Severus because no one else would have those memories - turned away from the Pensieve to face him again.

This time, Harry took in the changes time had wrought in the man's face as more possibilities ran through his mind. 'OK, since he is Severus, there has to be some way to let him know who I am, if he still remembers me. Then maybe we can call a truce between us and he can teach me how to do this properly. But first, I have to find out what made him like this. What happened over the last fourteen years to make him teach here, what made him so bitter and so callous?' Despite his many questions, excitement was starting to bubble up inside him. The knowledge that it was really Severus here and that he could talk to him, touch him and be with him had started seeping in under the outrage Harry had felt just seconds before. He was glad when Severus started speaking. It gave him something to focus on besides his exploding emotions.

"I don't remember telling you to use a Shield Charm … but there is no doubt it was effective."

The hissed tones that Harry had always thought of as Snape's suddenly reminded him of Severus when he was surprised or upset. He almost replied that Severus had told him to do it, but knew that Snape had no idea he was Harold yet.

"Let's try again, shall we?"

Harry straightened up, his eyes locked on his friend. That was all he saw at that moment and he almost wanted to tease the man standing before him like he did in his dreams. 'Dreams! That's it! He is going to enter my mind … see my memories … why not show him the ones I want him to see?'

"On the count of three then."

Pulling out the memories that he had protected more carefully than any others, Harry waited. He didn't hear Snape in those words. It was Severus who had said them and a feeling of calm descended over him. He could do this. He wanted to do this.

"One … two …"

Harry missed the rest since he was intent on keeping those precious memories upfront. He wasn't going to try to keep Severus out anyway. The force that hit his mind would have been brutal if he had been attempting to stop it, but since he wasn't, he let Severus' momentum carry his mind right into those memories.

"Where did you come from?"

A childish voice snapped at him, but it was easy to ignore – snapping didn't mean hitting, that was more of a growl. Harry looked around the room in amazement. There was so much space here but there was less stuff in it than Dudley's room. Finally, he looked at the dark-haired boy who was tightening the belt of his dressing gown.

"Where am I?" Harry thought that was a fair enough question, the last place he remembered was his cupboard.

The other boy folded his arms over his chest and glared at him as he answered. "You are in my room. Now, where did you come from and why are you in here?"

Pushing a hand through his hair, Harry smiled slightly. "It is a nice room. It is bigger than my cupboard – I mean, my room. That is where I thought I was – my room. Uncle shut the door and I laid down to get some sleep. There is not much else to do in there, the light is broken."

Harry knew better than to mention the cupboard, Uncle would have a conniption. He needed to distract the boy from what he had said. He walked over towards the chest of drawers and stared in awe. "You have drawers... I have a shelf, Aunt said it was for everything I needed. A whole shelf for me, but you … you have drawers."

Too much again. He turned abruptly towards the desk, his eyes coursing over the rough scarred surfaces. He couldn't think of a safe comment for it. He looked back at the bed and was drawn over to it, his hand hovering over the foot board. "Can I touch it?"

He knew he shouldn't ask, but he couldn't help it.

"It's just a bed. Of course you can touch it. I'm sure that yours is better."

Harry touched the wooden rail carefully as he spoke without thinking. "No, I don't have a bed, not like this. One won't fit in my room. My bed is on the floor."

Turning about, his green eyes shining happily, Harry tucked his hands behind his back. He was able to touch the bed and not get yelled at. "Thank you. What do you want to do? Can we colour? Do you have any crayons?"

The happy look faded to a worried look as Harry took in the scowled face. "Sorry, I shouldn't have asked..."

The other boy stalked over to his desk and pulled out a sheet of paper and a small box of worn down crayons. "Here, you've seen my room, draw me yours. It's only fair."

Accepting the paper, Harry looked in awe at the number of crayons, eight in total, before sinking down onto the floor. Laying the paper down on the wooden floorboards, he gingerly picked up the brown one to start drawing his room. He started with the ceiling, the undersides of the stairs, and then sketched the odd shaped door and the shelves. He wasn't the best artist, but the image was coming out okay. The boy was right, it was only fair that he should be able to see Harry's room as well.

Harry was surprised to hear the questions the boy asked, and decided it was safe enough to answer them.

Harry could tell Severus had stopped searching inside his mind although he was still there, stunned and disbelieving. He quickly pulled up one more memory.

The cupboard door slammed shut and Harry let out a sigh before lying down in the dark. Maybe he could go visit the dark haired boy from before. It would be a lot funner. His eyes drifted shut.

"Why are you back?"

At the snapped question, Harry dropped onto the floor, his fingers drawing senseless patterns on the bare floorboard. "It is funner here than back there."

"Funner? Not funner - more fun. Say it right!"

Harry peeked up, astonished, no one but a teacher had ever corrected him. "It is more fun here than back there?"

The other boy nodded. "Good," he let out a sigh. "What is your name? If you are going to pop up, I have to call you something. I'm Severus."

"Se-ver-us? Can I call you Sev?" Harry leaned back on his hands, smiling up at him. Severus was a nice name but Sev would be easier to say. "Oh, I am called Harry."

Severus shook his head. "No, you can't call me Sev. It is Severus. Did someone shorten your name?"

Harry shrugged. "Don't know. Aunt told me it was Harry the day before I went to primary school. Most of the time I am called by ... other things."

He refused to tell Severus those other names. Boy, freak, monster, waste of space, lazy thing... no Severus didn't need to know those.

Severus studied him for a long moment before quirking up the side of his mouth in a half smile. "Someone most likely shortened it. So, do you think it might be Harold or Harrison?"

Harry frowned as he thought for a moment, maybe his name was shortened. He wouldn't put it past his Aunt or Uncle. "I think I like Harold. It feels nice. Harold and Severus. They go together well. Not too many S's."

Severus yanked himself out of Potter's mind as fast as he could, his eyes wide and his heart racing. Potter couldn't possibly be Harold, but even as he searched the green eyes behind the smudged glasses, he knew it was. No one would have those memories except Harold and him. No one else knew about those dream meetings.

He noticed Potter was watching him closely and from the boy's calm manner, realized the boy no longer saw his hated Professor Snape, but his friend Severus instead.

"Professor, I think we need to try again."

Without bothering to lift his wand or give a warning or even realize he was obeying an almost order, Severus entered Potter's mind once more. Like before, he was granted ready access and he almost growled. Harold knew how important this was. Shoving that thought aside, he realized he was being shown one of the seventh floor corridors here and could see Potter pacing near a tapestry he recognized. The memory then faded and Potter's mind went completely dark.

He was tempted to push further, but decided against it.

"It is time to go, isn't it, sir? I have somewhere to be and I am sure you have patrolling or something… Professorish… to be doing."

Severus could read the message clear as day in those green eyes. Harold – no Potter – wanted them to meet up at that section of the castle. It was a good spot, no nosy portraits and not popular with the students. Definitely a good spot since he was fighting the urge to first pull Harold into his arms and hug him as tightly as he could before telling him off for all the dangers he had put himself in over the past few years.

"Of course, Potter," he replied, relieved to find his voice steady. "I am sure to meet you out in the halls. Make sure it is not after curfew."

"Thank you, sir. I'll just head to my meeting now then." Potter's lips quirked before he walked to the door and let himself out.

In the resultant silence, Severus leaned back heavily against his desk, hands resting on the surface with his wand dangling from his fingers. His entire body was trembling in reaction. Closing his eyes, he shook his head in disbelief. He had found his Harold at last, but how could he have been so blind? He had seen Harold at the Welcoming Feast five years ago and didn't once recognise him in that skinny eleven year old, looking around the Great Hall with bright green eyes and an excited smile.

He had only seen Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the offspring of his childhood friend and detested enemy.

Severus turned pale as the memories of all his interactions with Harold for the past five years rose en masse in his mind, each one made up of cruel words and unjust punishments, angry glares and insolent replies. As Voldemort's spy, he had had to show his utter dislike of the boy. It wasn't easy, but somehow he had managed it and managed it well, judging from Potter – Harold's angry reactions.

Opening his eyes, Severus stared at the closed door, his heart heavy as he wondered what would Harold say to him now. Would he shout at him in return, demand to know how could he have treated him so badly after hearing Harold recount so many stories of his nasty Potions professor? Did Harold remember the dream where they talked about his interactions with the students here? Did he know why he, Severus, acted the way he did?

Severus shifted a bit and his fingers touched parchment. Turning his head, he caught sight of Granger's essay sitting on the top of his graded pile. Granger, Potter's best friend along with – of course! She was Books and Weasley was Red! But how was he expected to treat those two the same now, as if he didn't know all the stories Harold had told him about them? And that was something else Harold could throw at him. Severus had seen just how protective of his friends Potter was, and he knew how protective Harold was. Would his blatant attacks on Harold's two best friends end everything between them and destroy their friendship?

Looking back at the door, Severus swallowed. He realised he would never know unless he talked to Harold. The fact that he could finally do so and in person while being awake sank in, making a small thread of hope, one that always seemed to be present when Harold was around, start to curl about his heart. Perhaps Harold only wanted to meet him to request that they continue their friendship like they had in their dreams?

But that posed another problem. Severus was sure Harold only thought of them as friends, but how in the world was he supposed to do this and still keep his cover as Voldemort's spy? He had a hard enough time disliking the boy when he was Potter, but now that he knew he was Harold…

Still, despite the many questions and concerns crowding his mind, Severus found himself fighting the smile from his heart that was attempting to spill out onto his face. Against all odds, he had found Harold… twenty seven years after they had first met in dreams when they were seven years old. His smile faltered at that. They were in actual fact twenty years apart. Would Harold - no. Severus shook his head, somehow knowing it wouldn't matter to his friend.

If Harold still considered himself his friend.

Severus was still for a long moment, just staring at the door, and then he took a deep breath, pushing down all his doubts and pushing himself off his desk. Staying here wasn't going to solve anything so he headed out the door. He had a meeting to go to.