Surprise, I'm updating! Someone recently reviewed the story and it prompted me to read it, which then made me want to write it. Enjoy.
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"Harry?" A familiar voice tugged at his consciousness, pulling Harry from sleep. "I can't imagine this is a very comfortable place to sleep." He sounded amused.
"Remus?" Harry tried to say, but nothing came out but the rasping of air against his throat. Flushing, he pushed himself into a sitting position and removed his glasses to gaze at them with regret. They were bent from being pressed against his face and the hard floor.
"Allow me," Harry handed his glasses over, and the other gently put them into their now crooked place on his face. The older man swished his wand, whispering a spell, and they shaped to his face better than they ever had before.
Harry glanced around for his writing pad before remembering that Snape had thrown it. Removing his wand from its holster, he cast a quick accio, already targeting the item with what he wanted to say.
"They'll never slip down my nose again. I'm not sure what I'll find to fidget with, now." He gave Remus a wry smile.
The older man chuckled. "I think you'll make do."
"Are you here to help me with my power level?" Harry really didn't want to whine, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to do much more. "I'm completely drained."
The werewolf smiled, "No. I have not yet been requested to train you. However, were I to be, this would be the perfect opportunity to do the training. You need to have your magic drained for the training."
"Good for me, then, I guess." Harry collected himself off the floor and starting dusting himself off.
"If I slept there as you did, I don't think I'd be able to move for a week. Youth certainly has it's perks, doesn't it? Anyway. I came to get you because it is near dinner time."
Harry paused, "Will Snape be there as well?" Remus still had his writing pad, but took a moment to realize that he should look at it.
"Ah, well, not this evening. He will, however, be here most of the time. He will be here to protect you."
Harry looked away from the other man petulantly. "Will you be here, too?"
"I live here, but Dumbledore has me out on order business a lot. Business that Snape can not attend to due to his status." He felt a warm hand come down on to his shoulder. "If I'm to give you lessons, then we will have time together."
As they sat alone together at the dinner table waiting for the house elf to bring dinner, Remus broached a topic he had hoped not to hear of again.
"Albus told me what happened this summer." Remus was looking him in the eyes, appearing very solemn. Harry worried for a moment that he was about to be chewed out for running away by this man, as well. "I should have seen it. I have no excuses. Will you forgive me for not checking on you, for not seeing the message hidden behind your short letters?"
His eyes prickled and he glanced away, trying to find the words to express his grief on the parchment before Remus.
Tears dripped out as he considered his possible answer. Harry didn't blame Remus, but nor could he find the words to express the torment he felt when not a single friend came for him, what it felt like to wonder how much he truly mattered to those he cared for.
"I don't blame you." The blue tinge to the letters scrawling across the enchanted page in front of Remus gave the impression of sorrow.
The werewolf's warm hand once again gripped the younger man's shoulder. "You do not and have not deserved the treatment that you received from the Dursleys, Harry."
"It's my fault Sirius died." The parchment, which had been left where Remus had previous sat, went unread. Tears poured unbidden from his green eyes as he found himself no longer able to contain his grief and vulnerability.
Remus wrapped the sitting boy in a tight hug. "I am here for you, Harry. I won't be around as much as I'd like, especially after your school year starts, but I am here for you. Contact me whenever you need."
Harry shifted against him after he calmed, pulling away from the embrace. Remus performed a discreet drying charm and a freshening charm on the teary-eyed teen.
"Ready for dinner?" At Harry's quick nod, Lupin sat back in his seat. The house elf, who had been waiting discreetly, appeared and began serving while Remus finally read the words scrawl across the enchanted parchment.
"No." The angry tone in the werewolf's gentle voice made Harry flinch as his head snapped up to look at the older man. "You are not responsible for Sirius, Harry." He could hear Remus strangling the anger from his tone as it gradually become more gentle, "There is nothing you have done to deserve that treatment from the Dursleys and you certainly are not responsible for Sirius's death. A lot of things could have been done differently but ultimately it was his decision that brought him to the ministry that night."
"I could have used the mirror he gave me and I didn't."
Remus frowned as he read the comment. "I am not certain what you're referring to, but it doesn't matter. I know you left to protect Sirius. I do not fault you, Harry."
"It was a box that said only to open in emergencies. After he died I opened it and found a mirror I could have used to contact him. If I had done so he would have answered and I would have known he was safe." Harry sat, glaring at the fists he had balled in his lap.
"I do not expect that you could remember or know everything at any given moment. Perhaps it would have been different if you knew about the box, but it matters not. You did not know what was in there and you were under an incredible amount of stress. I still stand by what I said. Sirius's death is not your fault, and he would not want you to feel that way."
Harry clenched his jaw, working his muscles as a few more tears slid down his cheeks. He wiped angrily at them and picked up his fork.
"Dinner certainly looks delicious, and chocolate chip scones for dessert? I must not be the only one here who loves chocolate." Remus winked at Harry and dug into his dish.
They had retired to the library after dinner and were sitting down to a game of chess when a head appeared in the fireplace.
"Ah, Remus, I'm afraid I must pull you away on an urgent matter. Hello Harry, my boy, I trust your lessons are treating you well? Good, good." The Headmaster nodded from the fireplace, "Snape will be arriving shortly with Mason. Please depart as soon as you can following his arrival."
Remus sighed as the head disappeared from the fireplace. "Sorry, Harry." He murmured, ruffling the boy's hair after he stood, "We will play soon."
Harry grasped Lupin's robe tightly in his hand as the man went to take a step. How can he tell this man that he didn't want to be alone, that he had had enough silence at the Dursleys to last a lifetime? Worse, what could Remus possibly do about it?
He said nothing, but Remus must have guessed. "Snape isn't so bad, and your friends will visit you again soon, I'm sure."
Harry dropped the man's robe and nodded. "I'll miss you." Wrote neatly across the writing pad. Harry pushed it towards the older man.
"I'll miss you too, Harry." Lupin ruffled his hair again and made his way from the library. Harry heard him moving around upstairs for a few minutes. He listened to the tell tale noise of the front door opening, and heard Snape's voice trading with Remus's.
Harry sighed and stood, beginning to canvass the shelves for a good fantasy book to read when he heard a third, familiar voice entering the equation.
Realizing Mason must be here and remembering the man was bringing his belongings, Harry made his way towards the commotion.
"Ahh, Harry Potter!" The man's voice sounded amused, "Pleased to make your actual acquaintance. I can't say I'm pleased that you hadn't told me the truth from the beginning, I would have been glad to take you in and would've known the shop needed more protections, but I do understand. Well now, lad, you do look quite the same as Ishmael, if I had known you before I'm sure I could've seen through your disguise. Well now, I'm very thirsty, why don't we have a spot of tea?"
"I must be off." Remus said tiredly, "Though I would enjoy getting to know you. Next time?"
"Of course, of course, what about you, Severus? And Harry?"
Snape gave a curt nod, calling out for Trigol and leading the man to the kitchen. Remus gave Harry a quick, one armed hug.
"I already levitated your stuff up stairs. Try to avoid Snape's baiting, okay?" With Harry's nod, the older man was through the door.
Turning, Harry followed Mason's loud, inn-keeper voice into the kitchen, casting a quick accio for his writing pad in the library.
They all sat at the table with the elf having quickly served tea and biscuits.
"I see you've already managed to charm the house else, Potter." Snape said with a tone of disgust, "Chocolate biscuits?"
Mason laughed, "Ahh, he is quite the charmer isn't he? I'm sure the nights he worked this past month business has picked up. Customers keep telling me what a winning smile this young man has."
Snape smirked at Harry, "Tell me, Mason. What was the condition of The Boy Who Lived when he first entered your shop?"
"Well now," The man shifted uncomfortably, "It's nothing against you, of course, Ishmael, but I must say, that is why I agreed to take him in, you see."
Snape's smirk grew as he saw Harry's anger rise, "Do you mean to say, Mason, that Potter didn't look well? Was he ill? Unwashed?"
Harry glared at the table, trying to think of anything but what Snape was doing. What was the point? Was he trying to humiliate him?
"Mr. Snape," Mason sounded gruff, "You're clearly making him uncomfortable. What's this about?"
Snape sipped his tea, creating a lull as he seemed to think out his response. "Mr. Potter has told us a quite a tale, and knowing his state upon arrival would help corroborate it for those less inclined to simply trust."
Harry felt some of his anger slip as he flushed in embarrassment. He didn't want Mason to know his story, but it seemed Snape wouldn't be telling it.
Harry nudged his writing pad toward Mason as it began to write. Snape watched the script appear, evidently fascinated. "Tell him whatever you saw. I can leave if you'd be more comfortable."
Mason's face reddened a bit, but he waved Harry off as he turned to Snape. He seemed abundantly pleased to be telling this, now. "I hadn't seen such a straggly, skinny boy save one of those urchins in knockturn. He looked like he hadn't eaten for months and he reeked of mildew. I couldn't figure how Jackal could stand so close to that stench, or why he came back to visit at all, but he always did like to bring in strays and runaways, having been one himself. You see, Severus, I've always taken in runaways provided they showed a will to work for what they needed." He was positively beaming with pride, which made Harry feel slightly nauseated. A quick glance at Snape showed no hint of what the Slytherin was thinking. "As you can see," Mason finished, "I take good care of those in my employ."
"I really appreciate you letting me work for my lodgings." Harry sent to the script
"What I can't figure," The man suddenly pushed, "Is why Harry Potter would be in that condition, or need to find lodgings at all."
"Indeed," Snape said with what Harry thought was a sadistic smile, "Hence the reason for the discussion."
"Well now, I do have some time to hear the story. Perhaps I could offer some more insight." Mason hedged, and Harry's gut tightened with his fists. This was different than Dumbledore and Remus, Hermione or Mrs. Weasley. This man took him in, let him work, yes, but he was not someone Harry knew very long and certainly not someone Harry trusted, not after hearing the man dripping with pride as he talked about taking in runaways. Harry glared angrily at the table and waited for Snape to go over each agonizing detail with a mocking display of disgust.
"I think, if you are finished with your tea, Mason, that I must ask you to leave." The potions professor gave him a fake, somewhat toothy smile, "We will be seeing each other again soon for the order meeting."
"Yes, of course." The man stood, "I'll just be on my way, then."
"Trigol will show you out." Snape murmured, and the house elf appeared and escorted Mason from the room. It was a very quick departure. Maybe is was something in Snape's tone that made the innkeeper leave?
Harry stood to go. "I think not, Mr. Potter. I would like to discuss a few things with you."
With a huff, Harry sat heavily back down into his chair. It creaked and groaned in protest of the sudden impact. He glared at the table again, wanting nothing to do with talking to Snape. He had his story, what more did he need? Did he want to mock him now? Perhaps solicit gratitude for sending the man away, revealing his true face?
Why was Snape so intent on showing Harry everyone's bad side? Remembering Jackal earlier in that day, he felt his stomach churn.
Snape steepled his fingers over his fresh, steaming cup of tea and looked long and expressionlessly at Potter.
When Harry finally stopped glaring at the table and simply looked ill, Snape spoke.
"I will not pretend to believe all of your story, Potter, but Mason seems to believe you were indeed malnourished when you arrived. This does not excuse your behavior to me earlier. I expect an apology."
Harry closed his eyes, playing Snape's words over again in his head, trying to push out the pain and frustration threatening to overwhelm him since before the greasy Potions Master started speaking.
Half tempted to ask Snape how he could stand being so greasy, feeling the dirt and grime from the past year and a half suddenly itching his skin, Harry beat the words back with a bat.
"Would you obliviate me as well, Professor?" Wrote across te pad. He didn't care that Snape would mock him; he just didn't want to deal with the pain from Jackal on top of his lost friendship with Ron.
Had Harry looked up, he would not have seen a pitying expression on Snape. The man looked disgusted.
"Don't be a coward, Potter." He stated, as if it were simple. He stood. "If you have finished reading the books Professor Dumbledore lent to you, please return them to me."
When Snape exited, Harry found himself running up the stairs for a long soak in the large, antique bathtub. He would lick his wounds, thinking over Ron and Jackal, Mason, Remus's father-like treatment, and ball of frustration caused by the Potion's Master.
For the next two days, Snape did not appear for their Occulmency lessons. Harry spent the time concentrating on the orb that Moody had given him. He had little results.
His lessons with Moody and Tonks amounted to Moody trying to tell him how to separate out his magic in different ways. Harry still hadn't caught on.
In his Dark Arts class with Snape, the man ignored his writing pad completely and acted like nothing had transpired with both skipped Occulmency classes. The time was spent with Snape teaching him about the different types of dark creatures, taking the time to discuss Basilisks at length. On the second day he gave Harry an assignment to write about the summoning spell, giving him a book from the Black library.
He ate dinner in his rooms to avoid Snape both meals and spent the evening in the library, making himself as quiet and small as possible when Snape decided to take his leisure there was well.
It was the fourth day of his stay at Grimmauld place that he strode into the training room at 9:30AM. Since Snape had missed the previous two days, he decided to finish the assignment from the dark arts course before coming.
Caught entirely off guard, he was unable to react when Snape broke through his Occulmency shields. The surprise attack had Harry on his knees.
Snape sifted through his memories; the kisses with Jackal, the escape from the attic, the time he spent reading, moping, his cold showers, emptying the port-a-potty.
His uncle knocking him of his chair. Something paused on that memory, and then needled him. It was like a tunnel was built between that moment and the abuse he suffered from Vernon before he went to Hogwarts.
Harry tried to shield himself from the memories, struggled to break the connection as Snape ruthlessly pushed through to them. One or two sifted to the surface and then the connection broke.
Harry came to himself as his body convulsed, vomiting up his breakfast. He stared unseeingly as the mess on the floor, building his walls and tucking the memories far, far away.
He wiped sweat from his forehead as he panted, hardly noticing as his half-digested breakfast was banished. A spicy smell cleansed the air, covering the scent of bile.
Severus stared at the young man on the floor. What could he say, that he had no intention of freshening previous abuses? Intentions did not matter. Apologizing would only show weakness. A point for the boy to attack.
He had been curious when he saw the portal form at that moment. It was typical, when memories were connected, for a link to be formed. He should have resisted, He did not enjoy others breaking his privacy, or breaking into others, but his curiosity got the better of him. He would not apologize for his curiosity.
Unsure of what to say, he merely stood and waited for Potter to collect himself.
Having taken his times building his wall back up, Harry cast a freshening charm on himself and stood, glaring defiantly at the wretched Professor in front of him, silently daring him to say a word. Was this the retribution that Snape had promised a few days prior, or a taste of what was to come?
"You were late, Potter." It was not an explanation. It was merely a statement of fact.
Harry didn't bother responding on parchment. Snape made it clear he refused to read it.
A smile slowly overtook the dark haired man's lips, as if he knew exactly what his student was thinking.
"It appears it would be best if we practiced ejection. You proved previously that you are capable of blocking if you're not blundering around the halls completely off your guard.
From here, we will work on you throwing me out. We have tried this before, and it seems you are only successful when I touch upon a significant memory. I do not fancy a repeat of your fifth year, so we will approach with a different tactic.
You will open your mind and invite me in. You will not pull me in." Snape added the last sentence in a cold tone before continuing in a detached voice, "Once in, attempt to push me out. Once I feel you push, I will push back. I will allow you to shove me out after a few moments so you can feel what it is like. Understood?" At Harry's sullen nod he added, "Ready yourself."
Snape cast the same spell, but this time Harry felt him nudge against his mind. The feeling, much different than the man barging in, made Harry's skin tingle and prickle pleasantly. Surprised, Harry opened the recently added gate to allow Snape in. This was a welcome distraction from his pain he had been feeling due to the resurfaced memories.
Nothing happened. A strange nervousness made Harry's stomach flutter and he swallowed hard before slowly reaching out past his walls in search of the presence that had brushed against him.
When he found it, he almost recoiled at how pleasant the presence, Snape's presence, felt. A calm, thick, warm layer over a torrent of emotions he couldn't identify. The torrent was not small by any means, but the layer was thick and placating. Harry reached towards it curiously, strangely entreated by the pleasant feel the bubble - that was the only other way he could think of to describe it- gave off, having nearly forgotten the purpose of the exercise and whom the bubble represented. All of that came back in a moment when the bubble practically crystallized with fury.
Panicked, Harry retreated closer to his walls and waited. Snape, once calm, approached.
Harry concentrated on the gate, trying to focus the feeling of invitation into it while trying to erase the desire to brush against the warmth he was inviting in.
When he felt the presence enter, Harry studiously ignored the pull he felt towards his intruder. Carefully, worried he would accidently force it upon the man, he offered a memory of him serving people at the inn.
The man took it from him and they were pulled into the simple memory. The pleasant presence felt merely detached, not groping for details or other memories. The calm warmth seemed to leech plesantly into the entire headspace. Breathing deeply, he reminded himself that this was Snape, and that he did not want him in his mind.
As if to help, Harry could feel the bubble radiating impatience, annoyance. The strangeness of the pleasant tingle he felt when focusing on the bubble combined with this made him want to laugh. It was like watching a puppy bark at the mailman. The threat meant nothing.
Harry shook his head and forced himself to focus. He pushed against the bubble of Snape, like he was attempting to usher him out through the gate.
Snape didn't budge. Harry pushed harder, and again Snape didn't move. The bubble started to feel angry.
"That is not pushing, you stupid boy." Snape's voice, inside his mind, caused a sensation of pleasant tingles to race across his skin. His heart rate increased. Confused and panicked, Harry created a secondary wall around himself and pushed. He felt Snape's presence flee.
When he opened his eyes, he found that he was still standing, and only a little sweaty.
Snape looked furious, and Harry could only guess at why. Could he sense Harry's thoughts? Was he angry that he tried to… examine him? Could it be because he took so long to figure out how to eject him?
"Potter," Snape began through gritted teeth. The Slytherin paused and pulled himself together before resuming. Harry was reminded of the thick, warm layer of calm over the torrent of emotion, and smiled slightly. "You are an idiot. An imbecile. Did you not see that you could crush me between the walls? Had you not read the book that Professor Dumbledore lent to you?" He was seething.
"The book I was lent said nothing about it. I had no idea what I was doing." Harry watched as the enchanted parchment hovered in front of Snape, and was ignored.
Annnnyed at Snape's arrogance, he nudged the parchment against his Professor's arm.
Snape's expression darkened, his temper seeming to boil. As he again nudged the parchment against the dark man's arm, he thought about the bubble that was Snape and wondered if he could smash the calm layer completely, make his Professor drown it in a torrent of anger. The strange friendliness he had felt towards the spy was unwelcome, and that seemed a plausible way to squash it.
"THIS IS NOT A GAME, POTTER!" Snape burst, snatching the parchment from beside him and pegging it at the wall behind Harry. "YOU ENDANGERED MY LIFE!"
Guilt needled him. As the words sunk in, the memory of Snape's clear pain when speaking to Dumbledore a few days earlier came unbidden to mind. He remembered the bubble that was Snape in his mind; the thick layer of calm protecting a torrent of emotions. Was this it? The betrayl of no one caring?
"I'm Sorry," The parchment scrawled, half-heartedly floating up from it's position behind Harry to float towards Snape. It was ignored.
"You irresponsible, thoughtless-" Snape's harsh words scalded him has he considered how to communicate his sorrow. "-inconsiderate child-"
Irritation laced his thoughts when he realized it wasn't even his fault; He hadn't know what he was doing. Snape had assumed he read the wrong book.
"Excuse me." The parchment scrawled. Uncaring if Snape read it, the young man stormed from the training room straight to his quarters. In a huff, he snatched up the Occulmency book Dumbledore had lent him and quickly made his way back to the training room.
As he entered the room hugging the book, his gaze swept the room. There was no Snape to be found. His parchment was laying plainly on the floor.
Ignoring the currently useless scrap - Snape wouldn't look at it anyway- Harry began searching out the Potion's Professor. He wished he could call out, but he knew it to be impossible. The man was not in the kitchens and missing from the study. Could be be in his bedroom?
There wasn't a response to his knock, and the door creaked open to reveal it was empty. Harry quickly dashed to his own room for some paper and a quill and wrote a quick note.
"Professor Snape-
This is the book that Dumbledore lent me from you. I have read it through three times. There is no mention of this double shield. I did it by instinct. I am sorry.
-H. Potter"
Using a sticking charm to put the note on the book, he hovered both through Snape's open doorway and let the book drop on his bed. Spelling the door to close, a quick check of the time told Harry he had 15 minutes before his training with the Aurors. He'd grab a quick snack before heading back to the training room.
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Ive started the next chapter already.