...

Harry made his way to the library in a daze, nerves clenching in his stomach. He could do this. He was not weak... Or was he? Snape had thrown his entire emotional core into a frenzy.

He pushed open the door with a sigh, eyes adjusting slowly to the dimly lit room. Harry found it hard not to feel resentful as he stepped hesitantly closer and took in his teachers' calm expression. If only he could learn to be as composed and controlled as Snape always was, no matter his inner feelings. He wished it had come naturally to him.

Snape glanced up as Harry approached. He raised an eyebrow to acknowledge the boy before pointedly dropping his eyes to his watch.

''Cutting it a little close this evening, arn't we?'' he warned, getting smoothly to his feet.

The sudden increase in Snape's height did nothing to make Harry feel any less vulnerable. Reflexively, he took a few steps back and nodded his head mutely in apology. He tried not to flinch as Snape's gaze swept across his face, openly scrutinizing.

''Sorry, sir,'' Harry muttered tonelessly. ''I meant to be on time.''

''Of course,'' Snape drawled, sarcasm lining his words.

Without any conscious effort, Harry's face twisted into a scowl, darkening his grim expression and emphasising the bags beneath his eyes.

He narrowed his eyes at Snape.

''You'll have to try harder than that if you desire insight into my mind, Potter,'' came Snape's voice from where he'd wandered to the shelves, mildly amused. ''Though not at present, if you don't mind. You are giving me a headache.''

Snape turned his back to him as he replaced a book, picked another and began leafing through its pages.

''You could feel that?''

''Barely,'' Snape responded shortly. ''What is the matter with you?''

The lines creasing Harry's face deepened.

''Well? Do not ignore me. I shall not ask again.''

''You know already,'' Harry replied, equally as impatient.

''Of course I know. I was merely suggesting that you voice your thoughts to me. I shall only witness them later in a far more uncomfortable fashion. That scowl on your face shall not aid you in your defence mechanisms, I can assure you.''

He forced his gaze onto the boy, willing him to focus. He knew how easy it would be for Harry to lapse into his more immature side and wiggle his way out of this, turning it into a dispute between the pair of them and, therefore, excusing himself from taking occlumency seriously tonight. Snape wouldn't allow that to happen at such a vital stage.

Harry gave a deep, weary sigh and lifted a shaky hand, running it through his hair, indecision clear in the way he avoided Snape's eyes.

''Your fear is becoming you, Potter,'' Snape murmured, and watched as Harry cringed away from the words. ''A brave man is not one that feels no fear, but one that fights on despite that fear... no matter the cost. No matter what he may lose.''

''How about if it's his sanity?'' Harry whispered, his knuckles white at his sides.

''Are you going mad then, Mr. Potter? Have you reached your final threads of rational thought?'' Snape raised an eyebrow. He didn't need to hear Harry's response. The sagging of the boy's small shoulders told him all he needed to know.

''I thought not.''

Conscious of the time, and of the way Harry had begun to sway more dangerously on his feet, Snape pressed swiftly on.

''I am merely going to brush against your mind, Potter. This will not take long. There is no need for a full session tonight. But you must co-operate. You may not feel much like being brave at this moment in time, but it is part of who you are. You could hardly do wrong in a matter of this nature. Your conscience would not allow it.''

Unsure whether this was a compliment or an insult, Harry chose not to respond.

Snape felt an unfamiliar stab of unease as he watched Harry's inner conflict displayed clearly across his face. It had been a while since he'd felt any emotion akin to guilt. If he had his way, he would not have to do this at all, but as things were, he had very little choice. He was used to the feeling of resentment, but not in this way, and never on the behalf of another. It was not something he was used to, nor did he particularly like it. Harry deserved more. More than this.

''Sit,'' Snape pointed, diverting his eyes so that he would not have to compete with Harry's accusing stare. ''It is time to begin.''

Harry didn't move immediately. For a moment, Snape thought he really was going to refuse.

''Sit down,'' he repeated quietly. ''Please.''

Harry hesitated but the look of defiance soon fell from his features, and he sat down with a defeated sigh, registering only dimly that Snape had used the word 'please.' It was a courtesy he was very rarely graced with.

''Now.. attempt to clear your mind, as you have done before.''

''I couldn't block my mind tonight, even if I was an accomplished occlumens,'' Harry snapped back irritably. ''You know that full well.''

Snape raised an eyebrow. ''Is that so?'' No matter Harry's condition, he would not allow this attitude. ''And since when were you in any position, Mr. Potter, to tell me what I know?''

Harry grit his teeth silently, his tolerance wavering.

''I'd suggest caution when trying to analyse me, Potter, for your conclusions as of late have been far from accurate-'' Snape continued, pushing Harry over the edge.

''I think greasy git, miserable fucking sod death eater pretty much covers it,'' Harry muttered darkly. ''Why are you doing this to me? Why do you love seeing me suffer so mu-''

''Enough!'' Snape cried, causing Harry to jump slightly, despite his own temper.

Harry expected him to yell back, but the man's lips pursed firmly and Harry saw the anger in his eyes subdued, and become overwhelmed by a much stronger emotion. One of which he couldn't put a finger on.

Snape ran a hand over his face with a wince. However difficult he had imagined this would be, nothing could have prepared him with being faced with a Harry Potter in this mood. It only emphasised his preference for the Harry he'd spent the day with, though he'd have to accept that there were many sides to Harry; many layers and scars, unfavourable traits as well as pleasant ones. Snape would have to deal with them all and accept them for what they were - parts of Harry.

Harry continued to stare but for the first time in a while, he really looked. There were dark, bruising circles round his mentor's eyes that could rival even his. His cheeks were an unhealthy yellow and sunken. Snape stood tall now, thick robes encasing him in a layer of protective black material, but Harry knew by the shaking of his hands, that the man was also suffering from fatigue.

This did nothing to improve his mood, even if it did suggest that Snape's motives were not entirely selfish. It just added to the absurdity of the whole thing. Harry didn't look away, his eyes deliberately hard. He wouldn't allow himself to sympathise with Snape.

''I will not tolerate this immaturity, Potter,'' Snape continued quietly. Harry thought he heard a note of disappointment in his steely voice. ''I asked for co-operation, you complied and we are here. Do not make this any harder than it needs to be, for both our sakes.''

Harry sighed, a hard lump in his throat that'd been growing all afternoon just becoming more constricting. He opened his mouth but no sound came out. He had no way to describe the way he was feeling.

He closed his eyes briefly, weary.

''Sir, I'm sor-'' he begun but Snape glared sharply, cutting him off before he could finish.

''Don't you dare,'' he warned, ''apologies, Potter, are a ridicule I have yet to find a purpose for. There is none needed here.''

A few tense moments passed while both tried to arrange their thoughts into some sort of comprehensible order, so that they could begin.

''I am getting no pleasure out of this. I have no desire to see you suffer any more than you already have.'' Snape finally spoke with a sudden urgency to explain himself, partially at least. Never before had he felt like he had to justify himself to the boy, but with the way Harry was obviously feeling, he didn't think he could pass it by this time.

Harry opened his mouth and blinked a few times, caught off guard by Snape's abrupt sentiments. He begun to speak but Snape didn't want to hear it, certain that the boy wouldn't care for his confession. It was more for his own peace of mind, than to provoke a reaction from Harry.

''Occlumency, Potter!'' he snapped harshly. ''That is the sole reason we are here. You must defeat the Dark Lord, that is why we are here. You may hate me but as I said when this whole ridicule began... that does not matter. Your education is what matters. I am of no consequence where your preferences are concerned. You may call me any names that you wish, entirely at your leisure when you are back inside your room, alone and unheard. I have no wish to hear them. I am already more than aware of what it is you wish to say.''

Harry opened his mouth, looked up and made eye contact, but this seemed to unhinge him. He lost his nerve and clamped his lips together again, glancing away.

Snape was not a fool, but nor was he a patient man. He could see that Harry wanted to say something but as no coherent sentences formed, he held out his wand and pointed to the relevant chapter of the book he'd set between them, instructing Harry to read it before blocking his mind.

Snape waited until Harry's features were as relaxed as he thought they were going to get, before he cast the spell.

Harry's face twitched slightly as Snape entered his mind, though, predictably, offered no resistance.

They were both quickly transported to a place deep in the shadows of Harry's mind - a place that could only be accessed when Harry was in this fragile state.

Snape was slipping into Harry's subconscious world, to a place Harry had never himself been.

It didn't take the potion master long to work out where they were. However, the corridor they were currently sprinting down was new to him... He'd certainly never been this deep into the ministry before... Harry sped up as they reached their destination, Snape could feel the adrenaline in his veins...the excitement...

They were in a circular room surrounded by doors. He wondered briefly what was behind them but Harry seemed to know where he was going. The images quickly changed. They were now chasing through the door directly in front of them, down a cool stone passageway.

The images once again blurred and they were surrounded by shelves... Snape narrowed his mind's eye, too curious to consider pulling out as Harry ran along the rows counting.

He must have found what he was looking for as he reached up and brushed the dust away from a clouded orb. The lettering was unclear. He could feel Harry's silent exhilaration, though in an oddly detached sort of way as if it wasn't his, not even Harry's...

There was an overwhelming desperation for the contents of that object that could only belong to one person...

It was over a second later. Harry, coming to his senses as Snape's own emotions became more active in his mind, threw the man's presence forcefully from the dream-memory. He found himself flat on his back, perfectly conscious but pale as a sheet, a guilty look in his eyes.

''Tell me, Potter,'' Snape snarled immediately, ignoring entirely the fact that Harry had just done a very good job at occluding him, ''...have you ever been inside the Department of Mysteries?''

Harry swallowed, his eyes darting anywhere but at the man looming over him. Occluding Snape had obviously taken a lot out of him, but his fear and anxiety were keeping him alert. He had the distinct look of a man who had been well and truly caught out.

He made a few panicky noises, shuffling back in an attempt to put some space between himself and his mentor.

Snape, in no mood for Harry's attempt to hide, as always, reached down and roughly grabbed the boy by the shoulders.

Harry made a small noise of protest. It was quickly silenced as he was pushed heavily back onto the chair on which he'd started, and fixed with an impenetrable stare.

''Answer me,'' Snape hissed, his face close to Harry's, silently threatening the denial of the truth.

Harry drew back slightly. He hadn't seen Snape look so angry for a long time, not since that day at Grimauld Place.

''Of course you haven't,'' Snape replied, almost immediately. ''Then how is it that you have it mapped out inside of your head, Potter?''

Harry gave a small shrug, taking one last shot at faking ignorance.

Snape, apparently, was having none of it.

''You said that you didn't want to play games. Now is your one and only chance to be honest. I will not give you this opportunity again. Explain.''

Harry met Snape's eyes hesitantly but they offered no comfort.

''You know I could look into your mind whenever I wished, it would not be hard,'' Snape continued, mistaking Harry's silence as refusal. ''I am willing to save you that pain if you just answer my question, Potter!''

''I-I dream about it,'' Harry said hurriedly, still refusing to make eye contact, his courage momentarily failing him. ''Well, I used to. A lot.''

Harry shifted in his seat and continued in obvious discomfort. ''Ever since we began occlumency... they don't happen as often. I dream about different things. I dream about-''

''It does not matter what you dream about,'' Snape cut him off sharply. He had no wishes to hear any more of the boy's awful sob stories, as sincere and worthy of recognition as they were. He couldn't afford to be weakened any further. ''Why you are dreaming of the Ministry is what concerns me.''

''Right,'' Harry nodded, feeling slightly stung by this blunt remark.

Snape could withdraw compassion as quickly as he could present it. It made Harry wonder sometimes whether Snape really was ever empathetic, or was it merely an illusion he had concocted for himself to help him cope better.

Everyone knew the Potions Master was a heartless bastard. The thought turned on Harry with despairing realisation, and he recognised, for the first time, just how much he'd been depending on the man and his indirect comfort.

Harry caught a glimpse of the man's peculiar expression as the mask slipped for the briefest of seconds. It was scarce moments like these that both angered him and filled him with hope. Snape did feel, but he was so damn good at hiding everything, and those emotions that he did have were so unlike that of other people, that Harry struggled to comprehend them.

Harry was not so ignorant of Snape's unique character as he had once been. There was much, much more to the man than Harry had ever given him credit for before, and it was beginning to frustrate and disturb him that the man repressed himself so brutally.

''Do you know what is held in the department of mysteries, Potter?'' Snape asked slowly.

He took the seat opposite Harry, forcing his wand under the boy's chin forcibly. He raised an eyebrow as Harry finally looked at his face. ''Do you?'' he repeated.

Harry shook his head numbly.

''Care to have a guess?'' Snape asked humourlessly. ''Come on, Potter, not even you are that-''

''Prophecies?'' Harry cut in with a brief look of irritation.

Snape gave him a long, searching look. ''Correct, Mr. Potter. There are many prophecies held in the Department of Mysteries... Among other things.''

''Like what?''

''I do not know, no one does. It does not concern you. Only those who work in that place have the knowledge of its secrets, and I doubt even they can comprehend the magnitude of half what is held within those walls.''

''So why do I dream about it?'' Harry asked hesitantly.

''Why have you not asked me this before?'' Snape asked suddenly with a snarl. He swept to his feet and began pacing, increasing Harry's nerves. He'd thought him and the boy had an understanding. He'd been far more accommodating to Harry's thoughts and feelings than he had been with anyone for a long time. He felt slightly hurt, in an irritated sort of way, that the boy still couldn't trust him with something like this.

''Surely the question cannot be of that importance to you, Potter,'' he bit back, angry for allowing himself to feel such a way. It just enhanced his belief that any sort of relationship brought nothing but pain and misery. ''Maybe you are taking this less seriously than you like to make out. Just an act is it, Potter? An illusion you like to create to fit your name in the papers?''

''Now who's being stupid?'' Harry said angrily, but winced suddenly in pain as his gut clenched unpleasantly. He didn't feel good. He wanted nothing more than to go to his room and sleep, to be alone. He'd had just about enough of Snape and his mind games. He wanted to sleep and for it to be over.

He got up abruptly from his chair with every intention of marching up to his room, and leaving the man to his misery.

''We are not done yet, Potter,'' Snape hissed, grabbing his arm before Harry could slip away.

Harry ripped away from him with all the force he could muster, eyes suddenly holding a spark of fire. ''Please,'' he begged. ''I did what you asked. I just want t-''

''And since when does what you want to do actually matter?!'' Snape snapped, pointing Harry back to his seat. ''If you want to sleep, Potter, then I suggest you allow us to discuss this quickly, and without complaint. You must pay the consequences for your actions. A fact you are still learning I see.''

Harry sighed deeply, holding back a sob. He scrunched up his face and sat back down with practiced patience.

''Thank you,'' Snape sighed, massaging his temples.

''I still don't see why I should have told you,'' Harry muttered, still angry and wanting to hurt Snape back, ''you're not exactly the most approachable person in the world. If Dumbledore-''

''Dumbledore, Potter, is absent of this equation. Surely you have worked that out by now. It is you and me in this... mess, and we are in it alone. I am the one training you, and therefore, I must be privy to everything and anything concerning your connection with the Dark Lord. I would have thought you'd have realised the seriousness of what the Dark Lord is attempting.''

''What is he attempting? It's not like anyone's bothered to tell-''

''Why is it that you think you dream of this, Potter?'' Snape asked instead, cutting across the boy.

He forced himself back into his seat. This was a complicated, though not entirely unexpected development. He'd suspected something of this nature to happen for some while. Voldemort could not remain oblivious to their connection forever. How Harry had kept this hidden from him, when he'd been digging around in his mind all week, was beyond him.

Maybe Harry was not so useless at withholding things as he'd first appeared.

''Voldemort wants it,'' Harry answered finally. ''That's why I dream about it. Because my minds linked with his... He's obsessed, so I am too. But it's not my fault-''

''If you were any good at Occlumency, you would not be having this conversation.''

''But why does Voldemort want it?'' Harry asked, choosing to ignore Snape's last comment. He didn't need reminding how crap he was at occlumency. ''How does it help him? Surely he already knows-''

''No, he doesn't,'' Snape cut across him, suddenly very serious, ''he does not know what the prophecy entails, and he cannot be allowed to.''

''But why-''

''Think, Potter!'' Snape snapped, ''put that able mind to use. What is it that the prophecy derives? Why would it be imperative to protect its contents from the Dark Lord especially?''

Harry thought for a moment. ''It's about him too...'' he said slowly, not wanting to say the wrong thing and aggravate Snape further. ''Does he think it will tell him who will win in the end? Out of me or him?''

''Perhaps,'' Snape said, a dark look falling across his features, ''It is weapon he believes he can use against you. He is looking for a way to kill you, Potter. He wants to know how it will end. He wants nothing more at this moment in time than to see you dead. You know this.''

''So he is after it...'' Harry said in a low voice, those words sounding more chilling coming out of Snape's mouth than they would anyone else's. ''He's looking for it... And that possession you told me about...You think he's trying to get me to steal it for him? By controlling me?''

Snape answered with a noncommittal inclination of his head. His anger was fading fast. He could hardly remain so when the boy remained so pathetically tired and unable to defend himself, while attempting, almost successfully, to remain alert and attentive.

''But it hasn't worked,'' Harry continued stubbornly. ''I've been too tired to dream about it. I've had...other things on my mind.''

''Indeed you have,'' Snape replied. ''I believe you own emotional feelings as of late have been as intense as the Dark Lord's desire to hear the entire of the prophecy. Therefore, they have partially, if not completely, weakened his influence over your thoughts. You are right, Potter, in thinking that your mind would be more vulnerable were you not so preoccupied.''

Harry nodded, though this thought did little to console him. ''So it's good that I'm so...so...you know, in my own past.'' He shuddered. ''Then he would have even more power over me...''

''That is why we practice occlumency, Potter... I do not deny that the after-affects have been an aid to us in an indirect, unpleasant way, but they will not continue to do so for any length of time. You must learn to block your mind, or suffer the consequences of the Dark Lord's manipulation. I cannot stress how dangerous it could be if he were to get a significant hold on your mind.''

''Yes, sir-'' Harry begun, but his response was cut short by a huge yawn that wracked through his entire body.

''Bed now, Potter,'' said Snape standing up, ending their short lesson. He would ask no more of the boy tonight. ''We shall discuss this tomorrow. I will not have you falling asleep in the library.''

Harry nodded gratefully and hauled himself to his feet, but he had one last question, having forgotten his anger if not his tiredness.

''Am I safe, sir?'' he asked quietly, almost so tired now that he was not sure if he was truly awake or having a very elaborate dream. Everything was beginning to fuzz at the corners. ''Even when I can't block my mind properly...''

Voldemort's powers were greater than his own, much so and he wasn't fool enough to think that he was any sort of match at the moment.

Snape looked momentarily surprised that Harry would ask such a blunt question, but the look passed and was replaced with a dismal expression.

''You are never safe. Not as long as the Dark Lord lives.''

Harry swallowed and nodded in understanding as he gazed sleepily up at Snape's pale face.

Snape's words were always so harshly truthful.

''You are, however, as safe as you can be,'' Snape added softly, on impulse. He was not comfortable with the deep seated fear that had taken up residence in the boy's eyes.

''How, sir? How do you know?'' Harry asked with disbelief.

Snape looked down at Harry's cynical expression, and knew at once his answer. It was torn from his lips before he could think to censor it, propelled by a lonely sense of pride that confirmed that he, alone, whether he wished it or not, was currently in the most significant position to protect the boy.

''Because you are with me.''

Harry swallowed, exhausted and confused. He was unsure about how he was feeling after everything Snape had said, and too tired to even try and work it out.

''You have always had my word that I will do everything in my power to protect you. All I ask is that you apply the same amount of security on yourself. Do not let the Dark Lord in without any measure of fight, Harry. Not when you have the chance to develop an effective resistance.''

Harry looked up at his mentor, finding him watching him intently. He offered a soft, sleepy smile, and the almost tender expression that subconsciously passed across Snape's own features just confused Harry further, and for the millionth time that summer, he wished he could open that man's mind and find out just what was going on in there.

''I want you to go straight to sleep, Harry, do you understand?'' Snape said, his voice softly demanding, leaving no room for argument. ''You have done well today. Very well.''

The Harry before him was not the same one that had grudgingly entered his home at the beginning of the summer. He was no longer full of the fire and energy and the defiance that he had at the start.

No, this was a Harry very near to being broken, and he would now have to be very careful. They needed Harry Potter in one piece to defeat Voldemort after all.

''Do not ruminate over what we have spoken of tonight,'' he added quietly before Harry drifted into sleep completely. ''I want you to put the Dark Lord's desires from your mind. We can deal with the dreams in time, but your waking hours need not endure it. The Order have been with this knowledge for some time, and we are taking measurable steps to deny the Dark Lord access to the prophecy.''

He gave Harry a long look to make sure he understood, and was not going to do anything characteristically reckless with this new information.

''How come I wasn't told?'' Harry asked instead. ''Why didn't you tell me this when you told me about the prophecy?''

''There is only so much I am at liberty to tell you,'' Snape answered after a pause, ''you do not need to know everything, you are not a member of the Order. One day maybe, Potter,'' Snape rephrased as Harry opened his mouth to protest, ''but not now.''

''In future, I want to know,'' said Harry, rubbing at his eyes. ''If it's about me and it's about Voldemort, I want to know.''

Snape's lips tilted slightly. ''Is that so?'' The boy looked ridiculously young as he stared defiantly up at him, the demanding effect lost somewhat with his sleepy eyes and hair sticking out at every angle.

Harry's appeal to him was something that had been creeping up on him for days, but slowly he was becoming more aware of it. There was too much being emitted from the boy that demanded his respect and his protection.

Harry nodded stubbornly. ''Is that a yes? You will tell me? And I promise... Any dreams, any weird memories that aren't mine...or if my scar hurts really bad...You'll be the first to know.''

Snape gave a small snort, humour evident in his eyes. ''Relentless are you not, Potter?''

He sighed as Harry continued to look hopefully up at him with red, tired eyes.

''Alright,'' he agreed, regretting it as soon as he'd said it. ''But understand that in asking me to do this, you are separating my duty to you as a mentor, to that of including you in the knowledge of any developments. It is not my job to tell you anything other than what Professor Dumbledore wishes you to know. I am doing this on my own, therefore I am obliged to take responsibility...''

''Therefore,'' he added loudly, before Harry could interrupt. ''I can also choose where the limitations will be. What I deem unsuitable shall go unheard by your ears without argument. Understood?''

''Yep,'' Harry answered, satisfied with the deal and slightly disbelieving that Snape had actually agreed.

''I would say then, Potter that if you want this to last for the remainder of the summer, that your bargaining skills require a large amount of work,'' he added with a small smirk. ''Your tact for persuasion is hardly the most effective. Perhaps fill your pockets will galleons next time you wish to ask me for something.''

It took Harry a moment to realise that Snape was joking, before he smiled at his attempt at humour. He found more layers to this man each day. ''Yes, sir. I'll keep that in mind.''

Snape held his gaze for a few more moments. ''We shall continue this in the morning if you wish, but now I think you would benefit most from returning to your rooms.''

''But, sir...'' Harry said, his voice groggy and muffled from tiredness, ''tomorrow is a Sunday.'' He hadn't forgotten that Snape didn't want to see him on Sundays. That was his day, and their day apart. Snape had made that very clear. It was the basis for the foundations that Snape didn't want to see Harry for any longer than necessary.

''I know,'' he answered, fully aware of the line he was crossing and disregarding it completely in a moment of recklessness.

He gave small nod to show that he understood what Harry was implying.

Harry absorbed the meaning behind these words and felt himself weighed down further, though not from further tiredness but sadness and a sense of shame. Snape shouldn't have to sacrifice his only time to himself because he, Harry, couldn't control a few stupid memories.

He'd tried so hard to be strong this summer...If only he could stay awake and master occlumency. It was his damn memories that were holding him back and his fear of them.

''It is not abnormal to be feeling this way, Harry,'' Snape said firmly, reading correctly Harry's thoughts. ''You are not weak. If there is one thing you have shown me this summer, it is that. Do not doubt it.''

Harry nodded, the reassurance warming him more effectively than any potion. If he did nothing else this summer, if he failed it all, at least he could say that he'd made no pathetic attempts. If Snape thought him worthy, how could he not be?

''Close your eyes for me,'' Snape said softy, bringing himself to stand in front of Harry even as the boy's lids were drifting shut of their own accord.

''What?'' Harry mumbled, confused and wary.

''Trust me,'' Snape said. It was not a request. He stabilized Harry with a firm grip on his shoulders and waited.

Harry sighed with exhaustion, and then nodded his acceptance. He so wanted to believe that Snape cared, it would make the whole thing so much more bearable. He liked this... Snape being nice to him.

The hand left his shoulder and he swayed, but did not open his eyes. He could hear a soft murmuring somewhere in front of him, and there was a small pressure to the inside of his wrist, then a heavenly weightless feeling.

He forced open his eyes a moment later and found himself encased by the comforting warmth of his bed. He didn't even have time to feel grateful, and wonder as to this strange magic, as he quickly slipped into his dreams as if he'd never been out of them.