Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter Seven

When Harry awoke, gasping for breath, and found himself staring into the face of Severus Snape, he thought he had fallen into another nightmare. Then he looked around the unfamiliar room and remembered everything. He leapt up from the chair and faced Snape, who stared back at him with an inscrutable expression.

"Where am I?" Harry demanded.

"Good evening to you, too, Mr. Potter." Snape intoned. "I trust you slept well."

The last sentence was said in a sardonic tone, and Harry suddenly realized that Snape must have seen him in the throes of his latest nightmare. Flushing, the young wizard forced himself to keep his eyes on Snape's face and repeat his question.

"Where am I? Where have you taken me?"

"Sir."

"What?"

"You will address me as 'sir' at all times." Snape ordered. "Now, try again, Potter."

Harry clenched his teeth and muttered, "Where am I, sir?"

Snape looked at him for a moment, clearly considering something. Just when Harry thought he would not get an answer, the professor said, "You are in my home, Potter."

"At Hogwarts?" Snape arched a brow, and Harry remembered to add, "Sir?"

"Of course not, you stupid child." Snape answered. "This is where I stay when school is not in session."

Scowling, Harry pressed on. "Why am I here? Sir?"

"Because you were a foolish little brat and did not go with the Weasleys." The Potions Master snapped.

"No, sir." Harry retorted. "I was at Hogwarts because I did not go to stay with Ron and his family. Why did you bring me here, sir?"

Looking as if he dearly wanted to take points, Snape scowled and said, "You were in danger, so I had to rescue you. Again."

"'In danger'?" Harry repeated. "At Hogwarts?"

"Surely you've learned by now, Potter, that Hogwarts is not always the safest of places." Snape replied with a sneer.

Harry nodded, thinking that truer words had never been spoken. He took a moment to consider this new information, then asked, "Who am I in danger from, sir?"

Snape's face darkened. "We will discuss that over dinner."

"Dinner?"

"Yes, Potter, dinner." Snape tilted his head slightly and inquired sarcastically, "You are familiar with the concept, I think?"

Harry ground out a 'yes' and wondered if all his teeth would be dust by the end of the holidays.

"Excellent." Snape dispelled the locking charm on the door. "You will remain in here while I prepare the meal." He jabbed a finger at Harry and added, "Be sure that I will know if you leave this room, Potter."

"Yes, sir." Harry answered. Snape continued to glare until Harry sat back down in the armchair and folded his hands in his lap. Looking somewhat satisfied, Snape turned and headed for the door. Before Harry could breathe a sigh of relief, however, the professor paused and turned back around.

"What were you dreaming about when I arrived, Potter?"

Startled by the question, Harry blinked rapidly for a moment and then answered, "Voldemort, sir."

"The Dark Lord?"

"Yes, sir."

"I see." Snape took a step toward him. "And do you dream of the Dark Lord often?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir."

"When I arrived," Snape stepped closer, "You were speaking in Parseltongue. Why?"

Harry hesitated. If there was one person that he did not want to know the nature of his dreams, it was Snape.

"Tell me, Potter!" Snape said sharply. "And do not lie to me, for I will know if you do."

Harry did not doubt this for a moment, for he had often had the disconcerting impression that Snape could read minds.

"I was speaking in Parseltongue because that's the language snakes use," Harry answered reluctantly. "and I was a snake in my dream, so…" He trailed off, hoping that Snape would not ask anymore questions. Unfortunately, hope was an ineffective tool when dealing with Severus Snape.

"You weren't just any snake, were you, Potter?" The Potions Professor pressed.

Harry sighed. "No, sir." He answered. "I was, or I was seeing things as if I were, Voldemort's snake."

Something flashed in Snape's eyes. "And are you aware, Potter, that this is the same snake that attacked Arthur Weasley?"

"I know, sir." Harry muttered miserably. "I saw it happen."

"In a dream?"

"Yes, sir."

"Were you viewing the scene from the snake's eyes then, as well?"

"Yes, sir."

Snape stared at him for a long moment, apparently speechless for the first time since Harry had met the man. Then he snarled, whirled on his heel, and stormed from the room. As the door slammed shut, Harry thought that at least now Snape had a valid reason for hating him.

Severus spent the next hour venting as much rage as possible while he prepared dinner. Each cooking utensil slammed down on the stovetop was Dumbledore's sanguine face, and every ingredient tossed into the stew pot was accompanied with a muttered "'Happy Christmas' indeed, Albus!" and "'Watch over the boy', my foot!"

Severus knew, as surely as he knew his own name, that Albus had planned this. Oh, not the attack on Arthur Weasley, of course. But Albus had been hinting for months that Potter would benefit from learning Occlumency, and Severus had either pointedly ignored the Headmaster or outright rebuked the man. This was due partially to his intense dislike of Potter, and partially because Severus knew that the boy would be a complete failure at Occlumency. Now, Albus had forced Severus's hand, giving him no choice but to teach Potter the art at which Severus was so exceptionally skilled.

Dinner was ready far too soon for Severus. He levitated the necessary items and made them float into the dining room, then opened the sitting room door and curtly informed his reluctant guest that dinner was served.

"This looks very good, sir." Potter said as he ladled stew into his bowl. "Thank you."

Severus, who prided himself on never looking surprised, covered his shock at the polite statement by sneering. "I suppose a few hunger pangs are enough to make even you show some manners, Potter."

The boy clenched his jaw in response. Satisfied, Severus began to eat. Potter brought himself under control within a few seconds and commenced consuming his own meal. For several minutes, the only sound in the room was that of the two occupants eating their meal. Of course, the blessed silence could not last. Not with Potter in the room.

"Sir?"

Severus swallowed a sigh. "Yes, Potter?"

"You said that you'd tell me about the danger I'm in?" It sounded like a question. "Over dinner?"

"So I did." Severus set his spoon down and regarded his guest. "I trust you remember inflating your aunt two years ago?"

Potter smirked. "Yes."

"Well, so does the Minister of Magic." Severus said sharply. "And he, unlike you, does not view the incident with anything resembling amusement."

The smile vanished. "Sorry, sir. But what does that have to do with me being in danger?"

"The Minister has decided to press charges against you for the illegal use of underage magic." Severus answered. "You were to be arrested and taken to Azkaban tonight."

Potter blinked in surprise. "And that's why you took me away?"

"Quite right."

"Well, um," Potter seemed to find his plate suddenly fascinating, "Thank you."

Severus nodded.

"It strikes me as odd, Mr. Potter, that you are more surprised by my actions than by the plans of the Minister."

Potter shrugged. "This isn't exactly the first time the Minister has tried to punish me for something, sir." He looked up and offered Severus a small smile. "And I guess I shouldn't really be surprised by what you did, since it's not the first time you've saved me. It's just…well…I would have thought you'd be pleased to see me being punished for breaking the rules."

"It is true that I do not tolerate blatant disregard of established rules, Mr. Potter." Severus replied. "However, I understand from the Headmaster that the incident with your aunt was unintentional." Potter nodded. "It is not the Minister's right to punish bouts of accidental magic at all, let alone by sending the offender to Azkaban."

While Potter took a moment to consider that, Severus leaned back in his chair and thought about how best to approach the next subject.

"There is a way to stop your dreams, Potter." He said finally.

"What?"

"The dreams you've been having." Severus elaborated. "The Headmaster and I both agree that it is best to stop the dreams now."

"Stop them?" Potter frowned. "How?"

"With Occlumency." Severus answered. "The art of defending your mind against invasion from outside forces."

"Like Voldemort?"

"Yes."

"Who will teach me?"

"I will."

Potter gulped. "Okay."

Severus arched a brow. "I did not think that you would agree so easily, Potter."

The young wizard shrugged. "If Professor Dumbledore has decided that I need to learn this Occlu-thing, then what choice do I have?"

"I see you are not completely devoid of common sense, Potter."

Potter scowled. "When do we begin?"

Severus stood, whisked the plates and other dining accoutrements to the kitchen, and looked down his nose at the boy.

"Right now."