A/N – My reviewers are the best and I love them to pieces. :-) And I'm on winter recess now, yay me. So I should be updating a little more often until January 3. Hypothetically, at least. I'm a proud owner of Sims 2, you see. And. Well. :-p I'll try to update more often nonetheless. Enjoy the chapter.

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"Bezoars are a general antidote against most poisons," Tonks said to the class, looking like she was trying hard to sound academic. "However, it has unexpected side effects with a select few, can anyone tell me which?"

Hermione's hand shot up, and Tonks nodded at her. "It's ineffective against belladonna and aconite," she said promptly.

Tonks's smile fell. "No, actually – "

"Miss Granger is correct," Snape drawled from his position in the back of the classroom. "Perhaps we need somebody else to be teaching this class," he suggested icily.

"No, professor, I was doing good until then," Tonks pleaded. She flipped open a textbook and continued the lesson from there.

Harry had used the time to stop thinking. He had been thinking – sulking – too often recently. It was nice break. Instead he looked around the classroom: the desks had been cleared out, and now everyone was curled up in a beanbag chair or on an ottoman. Ron and Hermione were on the opposite side of the room, and Harry had, by amazingly bad luck, ended up next to Draco. Snape was sitting in on the class to make sure Tonks didn't mess up spectacularly, and Harry deliberately avoided his gaze.

When Tonks was lecturing about ashwinder venom, he felt it. A burning pain in the Dark Mark, not the stabs he had experienced before, but a more… insistent feeling.

Snape rose from his ottoman. "Go on," he said to Tonks. "I'll be back shortly." He strode out briskly, wand out. The Dark Mark burned more intensely, now throbbing. It spread up his arm, through his chest, he was choking –

---

"How are you feeling, dear?" Madam Pomfrey chirped as she hovered over him. "Any better?"

"No," Harry said bluntly, rubbing his temples. Madam Pomfrey handed him a chocolate bar, pressing her hand against his forehead.

"What do you think happened?" she asked, frowning. "You seem to be in perfect health."

Harry broke off a square of chocolate and chewed it thoughtfully. "It felt like the Cruciatus," he answered, "but I'm fine now."

She paled. "Nobody here would cast the Cruciatus on you. It couldn't be You-Know-Who, there weren't any windows in the dungeon that a curse can pass through." For the first time in the seven years he had known her, Madam Pomfrey looked scared. He ate another piece of chocolate.

"Can I go now?"

"No," she snapped. "This is serious, Mr. Potter. I should go talk to Dumbledore…."

"I'll talk to him myself," Harry offered. Madam Pomfrey nodded, and he left.

He, of course, did not go see Dumbledore. In fact, he was dead-tired and just wanted to go back to bed….

"Potter!"

Goddamn.

Snape's robes were dusty and ragged, and his complexion was more pallid than usual. "Where were you?" he hissed. "The Dark Lord was livid his new trophy didn't show up."

"I didn't realize I had to be anywhere," Harry answered coolly.

"You didn't feel it? He summons us through the Dark Mark, surely you know that."

"I know," Harry said icily, "but I just thought it was another normal pain – "

"What?" Snape cut him off, the malice in his tone gone. "There shouldn't be any other pains, you idiot, it's been nearly a month – "

"Well, there are," Harry said harshly. "There's pains and dreams and I'm tired all the time."

Snape sighed and started up the stairs, motioning Harry to follow him. "The Dark Mark drains your energy, as Dumbledore no doubt explained to you." He turned a corner and ascended a second staircase; Harry recognized the path to Dumbledore's office. "But it sounds very much like you never mastered Occlumency. Did you?" An accusatory tone.

"I never had a competent mentor," Harry said coldly.

"You can speak with Dumbledore about that," Snape answered, equally cold.

"I will not."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Why the animosity?"

Words were tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop himself – "He treats me like a child. I'm supposed to save the goddamned world, he doesn't tell me a damn thing about that either, just lets me draw my own conclusions and run off and he'll step in at the very last second to keep me from getting killed."

"I'm as disappointed as you are, Mr. Potter," Snape drawled. "But if he hadn't let you run off unsupervised, I'm sure instead you would be complaining that he coddles you."

"He does," Harry insisted. "He doesn't think I'm old enough, mature enough, whatever, to learn Dark Arts. He expects me to defeat Voldemort with Expelliarmus!" His voice rose, threatening to crack. "I'm his savior and his pawn and his war trophy, and I won't be used!"

Snape stood, arms crossed over his chest, studying him. "I'm in the same position, have you never noticed?"

"Never thought of it, but this isn't about you," Harry snapped.

Snape rolled his eyes. "No, no, your drama isn't about me. And, of course, Harry Potter is the only one in the world whose problems matter. But it would be too much of a security risk to not have you not learn Occlumency."

"I'm not asking Dumbledore," Harry said emphatically. "What're my other options?"

Snape's mouth twisted into a sardonic smile.

Harry sighed. "Professor, would you teach me Occlumency?"

"The day he chooses me over Dumbledore. Extraordinary."

---

Harry was instructed to wait while Snape reported the most recent Death Eater news to Dumbledore. Which he wouldn't tell Harry either.

"You're as bad as he is," Harry said disgustedly. "Whatever Voldemort said, it must be important to me if I'm prophesized to kill him."

Snape looked up sharply. "Are you going to?"

"I… I don't know," Harry answered hesitantly.

"You can't have it both ways," he snapped. "Straddling the fence during a war only makes you the opposition to both sides. So where do you stand?"

Harry contemplated. "The winning side."

"Congratulations, that's just the answer I'd expect from a Death Eater," Snape said scornfully. "To my office." He led Harry back down the staircase.

"That's it?" Harry asked incredulously. "Suddenly I'm a Death Eater, and this doesn't concern you?"

"Of all the traits you lack – intelligence, tact, common sense – I would never dream of including independence on that list. You make your own decisions, others' advice be damned."

Harry blinked. "Um, thanks?"

"It wasn't a compliment," Snape scoffed. "Such an attitude will get you into serious danger soon." They paused on the second story landing, and Snape glanced out the window. "Your lover is here," he mentioned casually, tone scornful.

"What?" Harry choked. Followed immediately by, "He's not my lover." Snape only rolled his eyes.

Lucius was indeed there, flanked by a group of people, all looking thin-lipped. He was being dragged by a… collar, it seemed like, by the head woman, muscular and dark-haired. "Who's that and why are they all here?"

Snape peered out the window and snorted. "Surely you recognize the Minister?"

"No?" He resented Snape's patronizing air, but let it pass.

"Of course, I'm sure you were otherwise occupied this summer when she was appointed," he smirked. "Ursula Urteil is the one manhandling Malfoy. Surrounding her are Sebastian Dawlish, Persephone Cacis, Ambika Enteliebe, and Ignatius Penxa." At Harry's blank stare, he snapped, "For God's sake, Aurors. And while I'm not positive what their business is, it would be a wise guess that it's got something to do with Lucius and his underhanded, illegal, double-crossing schemes." He turned away from the window. "He was also absent, you should know."

"Hm," Harry murmured, watching them. Ursula was pulling Lucius at a quicker pace than he could walk with any dignity. He stumbled, and Ignatius kicked him in the back of his knees, laughing. Harry felt his hands clench tightly.

"That's standard treatment for a Death Eater," Snape said bitterly. "Better, actually. I've seen mobs erupt – well, it's not important. Occlumency lessons."

Harry started. "Right now?"

"Yes." He pulled Harry away from the window. "If you're going to learn Occlumency from me, it will be at my convenience. This is convenient for me."

"Haven't I got classes right now?" Harry asked.

"Simple defensive spells that no doubt you already learned unsupervised." His lips twisted either into a smile or a sneer, Harry couldn't tell. "Besides, seeing that," he nodded toward the window, "You are probably just brimming with seventeen-year-old emotions, ideal for Occlumency." They descended the steps into the entranceway just as someone flung open the door and the group entered.

Lucius looked like he'd had no sleep for at least a week, and his typically-immaculate hair was limp and disheveled. He offered Harry a small smile, but Ambika saw.

"Don't you even look at him," she snarled, slapping Lucius harshly across the face. "What're you looking at him for? You disgusting, foul, evil, inhumane – "

"You might want to reconsider who you're calling inhumane," Harry snapped. He saw Snape watching him out of the corner of his eye.

"You poor thing," Persephone crooned, leaving the group and reaching to stroke his hair with a bejeweled hand. "Would you like to tell me what happened this summer? Somewhere private, just you and me."

Harry pulled back form her touch. "No," he snapped. "I don't want to tell you what happened. But let him go."

"Don't you realize that he's dangerous?" Ursula Urteil looked down her wide nose at him, tugging again at Lucius's collar, which Harry could see glowed a silver translucent. Lucius saw Harry looking at it and pulled back his sleeves, where two more glowing bands encircled his wrists. Harry looked away.

"Harry's right, Ursula," he heard Dumbledore say behind him. "He's no danger to anyone now."

"Let's go, Potter," Snape muttered. He cast a disparaging look in Lucius's direction, but Harry avoided his gaze and instead followed Snape to his office.

"Set aside your emotions, Potter, clear your head," Snape drawled. "Remain standing, it's so much more satisfying to see you topple to the ground that way."

Harry clenched his teeth. He couldn't very well relax like this, but prolonged periods with Snape never were relaxing. He took a deep breath, trying to forget everything. But he kept thinking back to Lucius, the glowing restraints around his throat and wrists….

"Potter."

Harry opened his eyes. "But you haven't done anything yet."

"You're clenching your fists," Snape pointed out coolly.

Harry unclenched his hands and stuck them in his pockets. Nothing, he would think of nothing at all. Nothing except for Lucius, who plagued him even in his thoughts of nothing.

"Legilimens!"

No, thinking only of Lucius had merely guaranteed that both he and Snape would relive his summer. Kidnapped, kept in a cold barren room. The pit. Lucius teaching him dark arts, the mice. Oh god, the mice. Then an unfamiliar scene, out-of-focus.

"I promised him I would kill him if he screamed," Voldemort mused. "Didn't I?"

"Please, my Lord, spare him," Lucius asked, emerging from behind a tree. "He is powerful, he will be loyal. He will become your successor. And you would be known as the leader so great you captured most powerful opponent and made him your most powerful ally. Spare him."

Voldemort regarded him amusedly. "You care about him."

Lucius ducked his head. "That's irrelevant."

"No, it's not. It could very well work in my favor." He pocketed his wand. "Leave him. I will be in touch shortly."

"Yes, my Lord," Lucius answered. Voldemort strode away, and Lucius picked up his body gingerly. Harry winced. His face was scratched and bloody; his left arm hung limp and swelled. "Oh Harry," Lucius breathed, lips barely moving. "You deserve better."

He healed the scratches and repaired his arm as much as magic would allow him. "The Dark Lord's right. Of course he's right, he saw most of it. Just most." He lowered his body back to the ground. "Hopefully you'll be able to find your way home." A soft, uncharacteristic kiss, and he was gone.

---

"Potter, get up." A heavy boot prodded him his ribs. Harry scrambled to get off the cold floor, and Snape glared down at him. "Why are you wasting my time? Really, I'd like to know. Because you didn't even try to fight back. How do you expect to learn Occlumency like this?"

"I'm sorry, sir, I lost focus."

Snape gave him a look that clearly said they both knew he was an idiot. "Your inability to focus is not only irritating, but a security risk for everyone around you. You will learn Occlumency, and if I'm am to teach you, you will keep your concentration. Am I understood?"

"I thought you said I'd make a good Death Eater," Harry said spitefully. "So why worry about being a security risk if I'm joining Voldemort anyway?"

Snape pressed his lips into a thin line and did not answer. "Legilimens!"

That was just unfair, Harry thought bitterly. He struggled to keep Snape from seeing his memories – Uncle Vernon hitting him, Dudley eating cake on his birthday while Harry went hungry, Cho yelling at him in front of the entire coffee shop, Lucius slapping him, holding him down –

"Stop it!" It felt like a violent shove, and when he opened his eyes, his wand was out and Snape had only just avoided a red beam of light.

His black eyes searched Harry's face. "You know how to cast Cruciatus?"

Harry blinked. "I… I didn't mean to." So that's what the light had been.

"Stupid boy, that wasn't the question. Something Lucius taught you, no doubt?"

"Yeah."

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. "Get out of my office."

"You want me to be a spy," Harry said suddenly.

"I said no such thing."

"You did!" Harry answered hotly. "First I would make a good Death Eater, then I have to learn Occlumency anyway because of these security risk you won't tell me about. First it was you playing the double agent, but now Voldemort's suspicious and you need a new mole, me."

Snape was watching him impassively. "Very good, maybe not all hope is lost. However, I should remind you that I answer to Professor Dumbledore, and the decisions made are his alone. I personally have no interest in where you stand."

"And the Cruciatus?" Harry began.

Snape cut him off. "I don't believe in coddling like Albus does."

How was he supposed to reply to that? "Thank you, sir," he finally said, and left Snape's office.