Disclaimer: Anything you recognise belongs to J.K. Rowling. I own nothing, make no money from anything, and am writing this purely for personal enjoyment.

AU. The story starts at the beginning of Harry's seventh year, but ignores the events of HBP. No parings, Snape mentors Harry. OC's, but they will not be the focus of the story.

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All classes were cancelled the next day, and the common room was inundated with emotions as the house collected there. Little cliques huddled around on sofas telling and retelling their horror stories. The vast majority had been in no danger, and those who had brushed it seemed to be swiftly forgetting their fear as they basked in the awed attention of their classmates. Most of those affected would be returning home that afternoon, but in the mean time everyone was relying on the support of their peers. Harry noticed they all left a respectful space around the people who knew Ron. It was different for them. For them it hadn't been a terrifying but thrilling near miss - it had been a direct hit.

They sat together in a little circle of chairs well away from the fireplace. Except for Ginny and Neville, they were at least pretending to work. Ginny was on the floor in front of Hermione leaning back against her legs, and examining the ceiling, while Neville was staring at his knees. Ginny was still very dazed, and Harry didn't think Neville had made eye contact with anyone since they'd retrieved Ron's body.

"Maybe we should have stayed in town with the others. Maybe then…" Neville trailed off.

"We were just on the path to the shrieking shack," Ginny replied. "We've walked there a thousand times. We couldn't have known there'd be Death…" her voice broke on the word and she took a visible breath before continuing. "…Death Eaters waiting."

"But with the war on we shouldn't have risked moving so far away from the teachers. We shouldn't even been in Hogsmeade in the first place, really."

"If we let the enemy destroy our lives, then they've won already. This wasn't our fault, Neville," Ginny spoke as if by rote. "We were somewhere we had every right to expect to be safe."

"Where were you, Harry?" asked Hermione suddenly.

"I was here in the common room," said Harry slowly, not understanding the question.

"No, I mean where were you? We were fighting and... and dying, and you were here keeping safe. Did you stay behind because you knew something?"

"No! How could you think I would keep something like that to myself?"

He couldn't believe that Hermione thought that. Was that what everyone else was thinking? That he would deliberately let them walk into danger while he remained safe? He had been trying to protect them. Everything he had given up, his time, his freedom, his humanity, was to protect them, and they could think that of him?

"I don't know, Harry. I don't think I know you at all, these days. I always thought I could count on you to be there when I needed you, but yesterday I needed you and you weren't there. I was terrified, but I kept telling myself that you would come and rescue us. That you wouldn't really have let us go into Hogsmeade all alone. That any second you would come round the corner. But you never did. Instead you just stayed safely here in the common room, even after you found out what had happened. If you had been there like you were supposed to, then Ron wouldn't have had to die!"

"That's enough, Hermione!" announced Neville unexpectedly. "Do you blame me for not dying?"

"No, Neville, I'd never..."

"Then how dare you blame Harry? Despite what the headmaster may think, it isn't his job to die for us!"

Harry was stunned. Neville was not only standing up for him against Hermione, he was also indirectly criticising the Headmaster. He would never have predicted that Neville would be the one who would have picked up on that unwritten assumption.

"Do you want to make him responsible for everything that happens to everyone? Just because you're grieving that doesn't give you the right to be a bitch!"

There was shocked silence at that. Neville blushed slowly under the group's stares.

"Um…that…well…" Neville got up and fled the room.

"Now see what you've done!"

Hermione disentangled herself from Ginny and ran after Neville. Harry stared after her wide eyed. She… he didn't know what to think about her.

He clenched and unclenched his fists slowly, and then started gathering his materials together. Snape had suggested he come round for extra training anyway.

"Harry..." said Ginny softly.

Harry paused, comforted by her tone. But what was he going to say to her? She had just lost her brother. She shouldn't be expected to reassure other people. And he wondered if on some level she didn't blame him too.

"If you would all excuse me?" he said politely.

No one protested as he walked out.

XXXXXXX

Harry shucked off his cloak and started doing the preparations for his mental exercises. The deep breaths, though, were anything but soothing at this moment.

"Magister, I'm not sure I'll be of much use today."

"Oh? What makes that more true today than any other day?"

"I can't seem to calm down."

"Do you think when you confront the Dark Lord you will be perfectly calm?"

"No, but don't you think it might be a good idea if I can get it working when I'm calm first, and then move on to getting it right under duress?"

"No."

Harry hissed in exasperation.

"Do you wish to throw a tantrum? Perhaps I should get you a playpen so you can beat your fists and stomp your feet without injuring yourself. I'll tell you what, if you don't wish to work now, I'll set one up for you with some fluffy stuffed unicorns. What do you think?"

Harry wasn't sure if Snape would actually go through with the threat. His punishments always tended to be on the creative side, and mentoring Harry seemed to inspire him to new heights.

"I'll work, Magister."

"Are you certain? Because I can get hold of one quite easily."

"I'm sure. Thank you."

Harry forced a pleasant smile. 'Proper respect' he had learnt painfully, meant being nice despite what Snape's own mood was.

"That's better. You can make your distress the focus of your exercise. Begin."

Harry made himself comfortable on the floor, and resumed the latest in exercises. The essence of it was simple – all he had to do was 'count' using an easy spell to project a coloured number onto the surface of a cube. He was to count slowly from one through ten, cycling through seven colours onto each surface of the cube in order. Without using any artificial means to help him keep track, while attempting to meditate on his recent argument.

Curse it, when is Snape going to admit this wasn't working?

Then he realised. He was thinking that – a fully expressed complex thought – without skipping a beat in the exercise. He had done it! Immediately he slipped. Taking a deep breath, he started again, concentrating on what he had felt at the very moment of the separation. With a discernible jar, his thought processes came into focus. Temporarily oblivious to the outside world, he watched himself in amazement. What a jumbled mess of emotions! Gently he became aware of another presence with him.

Strengthen the amusement.

Not entirely sure what he was doing, Harry looked for the elements of amusement he had felt during the argument. As he concentrated on them, they came into focus and started drowning out the other emotions.

Now the sadness.

He saw pain fill his face like a painting animating for the first time.

Strengthen the calmness, and come back.

Harry blinked his eye, secure and centered.

"Wow."

"That was correctly done, Harry. At last."

Harry stared at him, wide-eyed. Had Snape just complimented him?

"Once you feel confident with this, we can go on to dividing soul and magic."

Harry sighed under his breath. With Snape, there was always another step to go. Wait a minute – 'dividing soul and magic'? The thing he had been pushing to learn since he had first become a vampire?

"You mean I needed to know this first?"

"Of course."

"Well, why didn't you tell me that before?" Cryptic bastard. Enjoyed not telling me so he could punish me for protesting.

"Why didn't you trust me?"

Harry had no answer to that which wouldn't get him into trouble, so he remained silent. It didn't seem like Snape was expecting an answer anyway.

"Now do it again."

Obediently, Harry restarted the exercise. Soon, very soon even, he would learn how to defeat Voldemort once and for all, and that was the important thing.

XXXXXXX

Harry debated hiding in his dormitory until the girls had left, but he scrounged up the courage to go down. He walked over to Hermione, but stopped when she flinched back.

"I'll see you at the funeral, Harry."

She sounded more unsure than upset, and Harry reminded himself sternly that she had the stress of the near rape to deal with as well as Ron's death.

"Keep well, Hermione."

She stood there staring at him, but at length made her way to the waiting escorts without another word.

"Ginny."

"Harry," she smiled weakly.

"Give my love to your family. I'll be thinking of you all."

"I will, Harry. See you..."

"Soon," interrupted Harry when she trailed off.

"Yes, see you soon."

Neville was staying at Hogwarts, and Harry did a tour of the greenhouses until Madame Sprout sent him in the right direction.

"Hi, Neville."

Neville jumped. Harry walked slowly towards him as Neville settled back into the alcove.

"Can I join you?"

"Sure, Harry."

"Thank you for what you said this morning. I really appreciated it."

"It's okay."

"And thank you for saving the girls. You showed a lot of maturity and bravery in doing what you did."

"You really think so? You don't think I should have fought them like... like Ron did?"

"I really think so. You did the right thing, Neville. Never doubt that."

"Thanks, Harry."

Harry reached over hesitantly, and when Neville made no move to stop him, squeezed his shoulder gently.

"Don't come back to the dorm too late, okay?"

"I won't."

Feeling more at ease, Harry returned to his own bed. Tonight, he thought he'd be able to manage without the dreamless sleep.

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