Disclaimer: I am a starving college student - I own nothing.

Madame Moony: Glad you're enjoying. I don't maintain an email list, I thougt that's what author alerts did. Kemenran: [is that Elvish?] At your service removes cap GinnyHarryP: I did notice that. I debated referring to people by such acronyms at one point , but I think it would become too confusing. Glad you're enjoying the story! c[R]ud[E]ly: Doh! Done. The chapters didn't used to be that way. This website seems to have a mind of its own, and decided to switch the chapters on me. Thanks for pointing that out to me, I wouldn't have caught it otherwise. Prophetess of Hearts: Precisely. Prd2bAmerican18: The one about being a Gryffindor to the core, yes, the second, no. Kiristeen, Melwasul: Always glad to amuse. bakachan17: I looked back, and the allusion was to other sources of information (informants, etc), not spies per se. Just thought I'd clear that up. I'll be introducing at least one of these characters soon, though they won't play a major role.

Chapter 10: Birthdays and Bogarts

Harry Potter woke up and opened his eyes. Harry Potter groaned, and closed his eyes again. He hadn't been this hung over since, well, a couple of days ago. Harry rolled over, burying his head in his pillow.

Harry wondered at this. How could he have a hang over? He was pretty sure he hadn't had anything to drink the night before. And then it came back to him. The potion! Harry groaned once again. Well, he certainly managed to make an arse of himself. Now Snape would really believe he was incompetent at potions-making. Harry then remembered the list of assignments Snape had given him the day before.

Harry groaned again. Harry then mentally slapped himself, and told himself to stop whining like a Useless Brat. "Dobby," Harry said blearily. A rumpled looking house elf came out from under Harry's bed.

"Yes, Harry Potter, Sir," said Dobby.

"Would you mind getting me some breakfast, Dobby?" Harry asked. There were benefits to having a house elf tailing you, after all.

Dobby beamed. "Dobby is being happy to, Harry Potter," said the bouncing elf before disappearing to fulfill the spoilt boy's request.

Hermione would kill me if she knew about this, thought Harry.

Well then it's a good thing she doesn't know, isn't it? asked a second voice in Harry's head. Where the hell did that voice come from?

* * * * *

After finishing the scrumptious breakfast Dobby had brought him, Harry went down to the library to complete the assignments Snape had given him. Harry had been in no condition to begin them the night before. For that matter, Harry hadn't been in any condition to interact with humans the night before. Harry's blood boiled as he remembered how Snape had treated him the night before. His behavior had been rude, not to mention utterly uncalled for. Well, it was Snape.

Could've been worse, thought Harry, it could have happened today. Harry shuddered at the thought. Tonight was his birthday, and he didn't even want to consider what he would have written in his thank you letters under the influence of that potion…

Most abhorred Ron,

Once again you have managed to send an absolutely horrid and useless excuse for a gift.

Thank you for nothing,

-Mujutto

Yeah, that would have gone over splendidly. Well, maybe with the twins it would have. The twins! Harry hadn't thought of them yet, this potion would be a perfect item for their joke shop. Harry shook his head at the thought, his eyes filled with mirth. He would have to write to them tonight.

Harry brought his thoughts back to the present as he reached the library, deciding to begin his homework by researching the properties of each of the ingredients that had gone into his potion. Harry wandered over to the potions section, and selected a likely-looking book.

After an hour or so of researching various ingredients, Harry closed the book and stretched. Deciding to take a break, Harry got up and walked through the isles of the library. Maybe he could find a book to help him with Occlumency.

Harry stopped when he spotted a section in a darkened corner which contained yearbooks from previous classes. His curiosity piqued, Harry searched for the class of '77. His parents' class. Sirius's class.

Harry quickly found the book he was looking for and went to sit in an overstuffed armchair by one of the library's tall windows. Harry flipped through the pages of his treasured find, searching for pictures of Lily and the Marauders.

Harry stopped at a picture of his parents. They were on the grounds of Hogwarts, near the Whomping Willow. James had his arms around Lily before Lily ran away laughing, causing James to go running after. They fell to the ground in a fit of giggles. Harry smiled sadly at the parents he had never known. He was glad that they seemed to have enjoyed their short lives as much as they did. They must have really loved each other, Harry reflected, if they were able to find happiness during such trying times.

Harry sighed. He walked back to the table he was working at and put the yearbook in his bag for later perusal. In the meantime, he had potions and Dark Arts to work on.

* * * * *

"Legilimens," intoned Snape the moment Harry entered the potions master's classroom. Of course, he would be one for surprise attacks. Evil Bastard.

Cold, high laughter assaulted Harry's ears. Cruel laughter. And then he heard the voice of his mother. "No, not Harry." Snape would have to call up Harry's own personal bogart, wouldn't he?

Snape's face was a shade paler as he lifted the curse off of Potter.

"You must be prepared, Potter," Snape hissed. He was clearly angered by Harry's unwariness.

Harry schooled his features, not wanting to give Snape more fodder for his bullying by displaying his anger. "You are supposed to be teaching me," Harry retorted.

Snape slowly advanced on the boy. "You are to speak to me respectfully, boy," snarled Snape, his face inches from Harry's own. Snape seemed to reach a decision, as he abandoned his attack.

"Sit, Potter," said Snape, pointing to one of the student desks in the dank dungeon. "We are going to try this again. You will not leave this classroom until you succeed in blocking me from your mind before I breach it." Harry simply glared at his professor. Harry was, after all, a Gryffindor, and he had heard a challenge in Snape's words.

"Legilimens," Snape said once again. This time, though, Harry had gotten some control over his emotions before the curse hit him. A few memories from Harry's childhood swam through his head, but he was soon able to force Snape out of his mind.

"Better, Potter. Again." Harry was so shocked that the potions master had said something to him that could almost pass for a compliment that he was not prepared for the next curse, which came flying at him moments later.

"Legilimens," said Snape for the third time that evening. Harry's thoughts were drawn back to the chamber of secrets, with Ginny's prone form lying limp and apparently lifeless on the cold stone floor as his mind reacted to Snape's curse.

Images of quiditch matches were replaced by snapshots from the first task, which were in turn replaced by scenes from a dark, eerie graveyard.

No! Harry was not about to let Snape watch Voldemort toy with him. Harry grabbed onto that thought and held on to it firmly.

With this grasp on reality, Harry was able to concentrate his energies on forcing Snape out of the well of his memories.

"That was pathetic, Potter," came Snape's cold voice. "Had I been the Dark Lord forcing entry into your mind, or had I actually meant you harm, you would not have been able to extirpate me from your mind so easily."

And he has just the personality to make a fine Dark Lord, too, thought Harry dryly. Whatever made him turn?

Something in Harry's expression must have betrayed his thoughts, because the next thing Harry knew, Snape was advancing on him once again, the dark expression on his face complimenting his intimidating stance.

"Something you find amusing, Mr. Potter?" asked an extremely irate potions master. "Because I assure you, if the Dark Lord gets hold of you, or hold of your mind, the consequences aren't likely to be as light as those that resulted from your last such failure."

Harry snapped. "How dare you? How DARE you say that Sirius's death was a light consequence? I know I'm responsible for this death, I know I got him killed. But you certainly helped, Professor," Harry spat the epithet scornfully. "I apologize for forgetting to send you a thank-you note," Harry added bitterly.

Fuming, Harry stalked out of the classroom, out of the castle, and off of the Hogwarts grounds.

Tears that Harry would not let fall welled up in the boy's eyes, though whether they were tears of anger or tears of pain even Harry himself did not know.

Harry was halfway down the road to Hogsmeade before he came to his senses.

Harry felt compelled to smack himself. Would he never learn from his mistakes? Wasn't this the exact same thing he did the last time Snape ticked him off during Occlumency lessons? Oh, and that turned out just splendidly, Harry berated himself.

As Harry reached the gates to Hogwarts, he wondered at the fact that he now felt trapped in the one place that had ever really been a home to him. Well, the Burrow felt like home, but that was different, Harry had never really lived there.

Harry further wondered at the fact that it was Dumbledore more than Snape that made him feel truly trapped. Well, Harry mused, Nothing in my life has ever really made much sense, why change things now when that has done me so much good over the years. Harry wondered when he had become so bitter and sarcastic. Must be Snape's influence, thought Harry.

Harry really didn't like that thought, and right when he started to wonder when he would stop wondering about so many random things, he felt a wand at his back.

"Well, well, if it isn't Harry Potter." The voice that spoke these words was cold and cruel, but the voice was also too evil and the words imbued with too much malice for the speaker to be Sanape. Harry wondered at the irony of something, anything, seeming too malicious to be attributable to his dear and charming potions professor.

"We meet again," continued the voice that Harry had grown to hate. He would have to run into Lucius Malfoy of all people, wouldn't he?

Harry felt the urge to hex the Arrogant Aristocratic Arse into oblivion, but he didn't think that attempting to do so would be prudent given the present circumstances.

I thought you were going to stop wondering about such random things, said Harry's second voice. Shut it! Harry commanded, and the voice obliged.

"Oh, it looks like this day is going to turn out to be fun indeed. My lord will likely be so kind as to grant me some… playtime as a reward for capturing you," said the power-crazed man.

Harry paled. Dumbledore, please, anyone, come, Hagrid, someone, Harry willed frantically.

"That will be enough, Lucius," said a cold, silkily cruel voice that Harry was at the moment very relieved and very annoyed to hear. It would have to be Snape of all people, wouldn't it? Today was just not Harry's day.

"Oh, I was just having a bit of fun with the boy, Severus. I'm sure you could find some fun in the sport as well, if you wished to join," offered Lucius politely.

"As entertaining as the prospect sounds, my friend, I am afraid I cannot allow that," Snape sneered, emphasizing the last phrase.

Harry, who had turned around to face the two men, saw that Malfoy Senior had caught the potions master's implication that Dumbledore was monitoring the situation from somewhere inside the school. Harry wondered if these people had some sort of secret code set in sneers, with that particular sneer referring to a certain meddlesome 'Muggle-Loving Old Fool.'

" If you insist on spoiling some good, innocent fun, Severus," Lucius said in a put-upon tone, "I should be on my way. I have matters to discuss with the Old Fool."

"Of course, Lucius," Snape said amiably. Well, amiably for Snape, at any rate.

Snape waited for Lucius to get a fair distance ahead of Harry and himself before speaking. Harry simply couldn't wait to hear what his potions professor had to say about this little escapade of Harry's. Harry knew he was in for it now.

"When ever will you cease to put my life at risk every second moment, Potter?" asked Snape warily.

"Why, when you stop saving mine just as often, Professor," Harry smirked.

* * * * *

Harry sat in his room at quarter to midnight, playing with the melted wax from the candles on his desk. Harry would be sixteen years old soon. Somehow, though, staying up for his birthday didn't hold the same appeal this year as it had in years past. Not that Harry would be able to sleep if he tried, though.

Harry poured the melted wax from a red candle into the melted wax of a white candle which was resting on the tabletop in front of him. Looks like blood, Harry reflected as the flame flickered and the red wax separated into swirling ribbons, like blood in water.

Harry ran the tip of his quill along the top of the white candle, then pulled it sharply downward, watching as the hot wax that had pooled on the top of the candle spilled through the fissure he had created. It looks like it's weeping, Harry thought as the clear liquid poured forth.

Harry picked up the white wax once it had solidified, and held it over the candle's flame. The wax dripped into the recessed top of the candle, only to spill out once more. This time, the wax that spilled over the waxen valley was blackened. Looks like anything can go Dark, Harry mused.

Harry's morbid train of thought was cut short by the sound of incessant banging on his chamber door. Harry opened his door, and a small flock of owls promptly flew into the room. Though Harry appreciated the sentiment, he was really not in the mood for this.

Harry halfheartedly opened gifts from Ron, Hermione, and the twins, and a note from Hagrid wishing him a happy birthday and inviting him to tea the next day.

Harry quickly drafted a thank-you note for the wizard's gadget of as yet undetermined function, one to Hermione for the book she had sent, and another to the twins for the products from their joke shop, though Harry was understandably wary of these. He would read their letters more carefully another time, he just didn't have the energy for it right now. Harry next wrote to Hagrid, accepting the half-giant's invitation to tea.

Just as Harry had treated and sent off the last owl, a fifth owl flew into his room. This one was a barn owl that Harry didn't recognize. Harry wondered who this could possibly be from. For one brief moment, Harry's heart had given a traitorous leap for joy as Harry thought this owl must be from Sirius before reality ruthlessly reasserted itself.

Harry promptly berated himself for being a Self-Delusional Prat and turned his attention back to the package. Harry opened the black pouch that the owl had proffered to find a glass vial filled with a blue liquid. Dreamless Sleep Potion, Harry marveled, perhaps there's a god out there that I haven't yet managed to anger. Given his current state of mind, this was the best present Harry had received in a long time.

There was no note attached to the gift, but Harry knew who it must be from. That just left Harry with one more thing to wonder about that day. Why would Professor Snape do something so nice for Harry Potter, the quintessential Reckless Gryffindor?