Remus returned to headquarters the following morning and, per his request, Harry began his summer schoolwork. It needed to get done anyway, and Harry figured this was better than spending the day ignoring Ron and Hermione while they were only feet away from him.

"If your books were always locked in the cupboard, how did you complete your school work?" asked Remus.

"Sometimes I was able to pick the lock and sneak a few books out, but most of the time I had to do it when we got back to Hogwarts," Harry answered.

"And you didn't think to tell anybody about that?" asked Remus.

"I didn't think anyone would care," Harry replied. "None of the muggle teachers ever did." Remus looked as if he wanted to say something, but then changed his mind. He informed Harry he and Sirius would be in one of the downstairs studies if he needed anything and left Harry to his work.

By lunchtime, he had only managed to complete his history of magic essay. If there was ever a time to need Hermione, Harry thought, it was now. However, it wasn't enough to make him forgive her. Being in the same room yesterday had only reminded him of how angry he was at them. He figured it was time they got a taste of their own medicine.

Sirius and Remus joined him for lunch. When they were done, Remus stayed to help Harry with his charms essay, while Sirius went…somewhere.

"Is he okay?" asked Harry.

Remus sighed. "Sirius was never the most stable of people Harry. Spending 12 years in Azkaban certainly didn't help matters. He's been struggling since he got out, and being back in this house doesn't help." Harry looked away guiltily. If Sirius was that bad off, surely his outbursts hadn't helped matters. "Don't even start Harry." Harry looked at Remus in confusion. "Sirius would much rather know what you are going through than let you suffer alone. Don't feel bad for telling him."

"I just don't want to make anything worse is all," Harry said.

"The only thing that would make this worse was if Sirius knew you were keeping things from him that he could help you with," Remus assured him. "This is what family does. They help one another, no matter what."

They worked through Harry's essay. Harry still had to do the work, but it was nice to have Remus there to guide him.

"Thanks Remus," Harry said. "Hermione always drives me crazy when I ask for help. I wish you were still our professor. You're good at this."

Remus gave Harry a rueful smile. "Speaking of Hermione, how long do you plan to hold out your forgiveness? Both her and Ron have been quite destressed."

"I'll forgive them when they've earned it," Harry snapped angrily.

"How can they earn it if you won't talk to them?" Remus asked.

"Well if it means that much to them they'll come up with something."

Remus sat up straighter in his chair. "Can I ask you something Harry?"

"Sure. Shoot."

"Why have you forgiven Sirius and I, but not your friends? Aren't we guilty of the same crime?"

Harry thought about this for a moment. He wasn't quite sure how to answer that question. It was rather hard to explain. "Well, you know, I never actually did say I forgave you guys," he finally said with a small smile.

Remus huffed a laugh. "True, but you're speaking to me. That must mean something."

Harry sighed. "I guess it's like what you said when I first got here. You and Sirius can't look at me like a friend. I'm not my dad. I'm your responsibility, and you're supposed to take care of me. And yeah I'm angry about the way things went down and that neither of you were there, but at the end of the day you did what you thought was best. I wish you hadn't trusted Dumbledore so blindly, but you genuinely thought he knew best. And you really had no clue about what was happening at the Dursley's."

"Wouldn't most of that apply to your friends as well?"

"Not really," Harry said. "First off, they should treat me like a friend, which means they wouldn't have kept secrets. No matter who gave the order. Second, while they may not have known everything, they certainly knew enough about my aunt and uncle to know that wasn't the best place for me. I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive them for abandoning me like that."

It was Remus' turn to sigh. "Well, it's your decision Harry, but you know life would be easier with friends."

"Maybe I'll just have to find new ones," Harry said. "Better ones." With that, Remus directed the conversation back towards the essay, but Harry could tell he was still concerned. The rest of the day passed without incident, and before Harry knew it, it was time for his occlumency lesson with Snape.

"Are you sure there is no one else that can teach me?" Harry begged Sirius and Remus for the 15th time in the same number of minutes.

"No Harry there is no one else to teach you," Remus answered again, same as he had every other time Harry had asked.

"Just remember Harry, one misstep and I'll be right in to kick his arse for you," Sirius chimed in with a wink.

Harry smiled back at Sirius as Remus rolled his eyes. The good feeling didn't last long however, as Harry heard footsteps ascend to his landing. The owner of the footsteps gave a curt knock on the door, which Remus opened. Professor Snape stood on the other side, looking as unpleasant as ever.

"Good evening Severus," Remus said politely. "Thank you for agreeing to do this."

"I didn't have much of a choice in the matter," Severus said. He looked from Remus, to Sirius, to Harry. "Well, Potter. Are you ready?"

"I don't have much of a choice in the matter," Harry retorted. Snape scowled and Sirius smirked.

"You will behave, or I will call these lessons off before they begin," Snape growled.

Sirius opened his mouth to reply, but Remus cut him off, "Enough. Harry behave. Severus behave. Sirius, I think it's time you and I leave."

"You want me to leave my godson with this snake?" Sirius asked. "I don't think so."

"That is exactly what you will do," Snape replied. "I imagine it will be difficult enough to teach Potter the subtle art of occlumency given his thick skull, but it will be near impossible with you there as a constant distraction."

Sirius made a huff of protest, but before he could speak, Remus had pulled him from the room, with one last admonition of behave directed at its two occupants. Snape glanced around the room—Regulus' room.

"Regulus was always annoyingly proper," he finally said. "I suppose I shouldn't have expected his room to be any different."

"You knew Sirius' brother?" asked Harry, looking around as well. Harry hadn't taken much notice of his new living quarters. He had finally met Kreacher, who had given him a look of utter contempt. He didn't feel it was worth it to snoop around.

"He was a year younger than I," said Snape. "But he was in my house. The Blacks were a very prominent family then. It would have been impossible not to know him. Kept to himself most of the time, unlike his brother." The last bit came out in a snarl. "But I am not here to discuss the Black family with you. I have been informed of your nightmares. Explain them to me yourself."

"If you've already been told then why should I—" Harry began.

"Because I want to hear from you exactly what happened," Snape cut him off. "I need to know exactly what we are dealing with."

Harry looked away. "Most nights it's just the cemetery."

"The night of the final task?"

"Yeah," Harry answered. "Most of the time it stays the same. I just see exactly what happened. Others," he paused, "other times it's even worse."

"How so?" Snape was still standing by the door. He had not moved since Remus had closed it.

"Sometimes the bad parts take longer," Harry said. "Like…like Cedric dying."

"And the other evening, when you saw the Dark Lord. What happened then?"

Harry took a deep breath. "Well, it started off normal in the cemetery. One minute I was trying to get to Cedric and the next I was tied up in a dark room being interrogated by Voldemort."

"And what happened next?"

"He was angry because the Order had moved me without his knowledge. He tortured me, or I guess whoever's body I was occupying."

"But you felt it?"

"Yes," Harry said. "They next thing I remember was being woken up by Sirius."

Snape was quiet for a moment while he studied Harry. "That is quiet unusual," he finally said. "Normally if you were seeing into someone else's head you would see what they see, not be someone else in the scene. The connection between you two must be abnormally strong."

"So what do we do about it?"

"Well, that Potter," Snape said with a sneer, "is exactly why I am here. I am going to attempt to teach you occlumency. At the very least, it should help you cleanse your mind enough to put an end to the nightmares, though it won't be foolproof. And the best, you will be able to block the connection between your mind and the Dark Lord's. If you can't see into his mind, the chance of him discovering the connection between you is slim."

"So how do we do this?" Harry asked. "Is there a spell or something."

"Unfortunately it is not so easy Potter," said Snape. "And even if it were, there would be no use teaching it to you now, as you can't use magic outside of school. Unless of course you want to be expelled, in which case I assure you I would gladly be of assistance." Harry glared at Snape. "No? Well then, what we will do for the time being is work on clearing your mind and guarding it."

"That's it? Why couldn't Remus or Sirius do that?"

"It is not as simple as it sounds," Snape insisted. "And besides, I don't think Black could clear his mind if the fate of the wizarding world depending on it. It is as if shouting is his only setting. Once we return to school, I will attempt to penetrate your mind and you will attempt to repel me. However, seeing as that may prompt the use of magic, for the time being we will focus on the basics."

"Okay then, so how do I clear my mind?"

Snape raised an eyebrow at Harry. "Surely you have some inkling. Or did the dementor attack damage your already low intelligence." Harry scowled at him. "For Merlin's sake Potter. Go sit on your bed, and get comfortable."

"Excuse me?"

Snape sighed angrily. "The entire purpose of this is to help with your nightmares. I presume you don't sleep sitting at your desk?"

Harry got up with a huff and sat cross-legged on his bed. "Okay, now what." Snape finally moved away from the door and sat on the other end of the bed.

"Now close your eyes. Don't look at me that way Potter. If I wanted to hurt you trust me I wouldn't need you to close your eyes first." Harry begrudgingly did as he was asked. "Now," Snape instructed. "Take several deep breathes." He was silent for a while as Harry obeyed. "Now keep that up. Focus on your breathing, and let go of all your other thoughts."

Harry tried to do what Snape said. He really did, but all he couldn't think about was his potions professor sitting not two feet away from him, and all he wanted to do is open his eyes. He didn't trust Snape, not for a second.

"For Merlin's sake Potter you're not even trying."

Harry's eyes shot open. "I am! It's not that easy."

"Nor is it that difficult," Snape insisted with a sneer. "Honestly I thought even you would be capable of something so basic."

"I've got a lot on my mind okay."

"That is precisely the point," Snape said, standing up to tower over Harry. "Your mind is filled with all these negative things and in your sleep they come to the forefront. It makes you weak. It makes you vulnerable. You have to shut it all out."

"Well I don't know how to do that!" shouted Harry.

Snape opened his mouth to reply, but abruptly closed it. Harry wasn't sure what was going on. Snape had a peculiar look on his face, and Harry realized after a moment that he wasn't looking at his face, but at Harry's arm. Harry looked down. He had raised his arms in anger and by doing so, the sleeve covering his scars had slipped down. He hastily covered them back up, but it was too late.

"What are those Potter?" Snape asked quietly. Harry had never heard Snape talk like that before, and frankly it disturbed him.

"Nothing."

"It didn't look like nothing."

"Well it is."

"So I suppose if I went ask Black about those scars he would tell me the same would he?"

Harry looked up sharply at his professor. "You…you wouldn't," he stammered.

Snape looked at him hard. "If it is necessary." He sat back down on the bed and held out his hand. "Arm. Now."

Harry weighed his options. He had purposely not told anyone about his scars. Now that he was surrounded by help, he felt ashamed to admit what he'd done. As much as he didn't want to show Snape of all people, he wanted Sirius to know even less. He didn't think he could take the disappointment if Sirius knew he had been hurting himself. He reluctantly handed Snape his arm.

Snape pushed up his sleeve and inspected the cuts. He traced a few with his fingers. Harry had to repress a shudder.

"How old are these?" Snape asked as quietly as before. He looked up at Harry with an expression that told Harry it was useless to try and fight.

"The two at the bottom are from a few days ago," Harry said quietly, looking at his trousers. "I did them not long before the Order came to get me. The rest are from the past few weeks."

Before Harry could say another word, much less move, Snape had pulled out his wand and was tracing Harry's scars while murmuring under his breath.

"Hey what are you—" Harry began. He stopped when he saw the most recent scars start to fade. Even the older ones looked less prominent. Snape gave Harry his arm back, and Harry looked in wonder.

"Why did you do that?" he asked. Snape didn't look at him right away.

Without turning from the wall he was staring at, he asked, "I have heard rumors since your rescue that your time at the Dursley's was much worse than anyone realized. Was it truly that awful?"

"Obviously."

Snape looked down at his hands, and then slowly he unbuttoned the sleeve on his right arm. After he had pulled it up to his elbow, he held out his forearm for Harry to see. Unsure of what was happening, Harry looked down at his professor's arm, and was startled to see a collection of small, faded scars. Scars that Harry was all too familiar with. He looked at Professor Snape, who was watching him silently.

"When?" was all he asked.

"Around when I was your age," Snape answered. "School was not pleasant for me. I assure you I was no more likable then than I am now. Your father and his friends also went through great pains to make my life a living hell." Harry looked down at his own scars. He wasn't sure what to say to that. "What did you use Harry?"

"What do you mean?"

"To make the cuts," Snape asked. "What did you use?" Harry pulled the razor blade out of his pocket. "Let me see it." Harry silently handed it over to Snape, who again pulled out his wand and murmured some spells." Then he gave it back to Harry.

"What did you do?"

"I made it impervious to rust," Snape answered. "I also put a special cleansing spell on it. You don't want one of those cuts to get infected trust me."

"So, you're going to let me keep it?"

"If you're determined to harm yourself, you would just find another way," Snape said. "Trust me I know." Harry put the blade back in his pocket. "Of course it would be preferable that you don't do it at all. Do try to find other, safer, ways to relieve your pain."

"Gee professor I didn't know you cared too much."

"Well if you are going to die I would much prefer to be the one to do it."

Snape had delivered the line so deadpan, that Harry couldn't help but laugh. And once he started, the insanity of the situation over took him, and he found he couldn't stop. He laughed for what felt like hours, until tears started to come from his eyes. The entire time, Snape sat there motionless, but Harry thought he caught a small smile on his face.

When Harry composed himself once more, Snape spoke again, "I think we will call it a night. Practice what we discussed. Clear your mind. Send all those negative thoughts away. Tomorrow night you will get another dose of dreamless sleep to ensure you get a good night's rest for the hearing. I will return the night after."

Snape got up to leave. Right as he went to walk out the door, Harry said quietly, "Thank you professor." Snape looked at him but didn't respond. He gave Harry a short nod and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Harry silently dressed for bed, thinking about what had just happened. He had never thought of Snape as a real person before. Hell, he had never thought of any of his professors as real people. But Snape, Snape was always the bad guy. And yet, Harry found himself feeling rather close to the professor at the moment, and he wasn't sure what to think about that.

He got into bed and tried to clear his thoughts as Snape had instructed, but there were so many new things to think about, that he couldn't quite manage it before he drifted off.

"Cedric! Cedric no! Don't kill him please!"

"Harry wake up!"

Once more, Harry awoke to Sirius shaking him awake. Harry jolted up, and tried to catch his breath.

"Are you alright Harry?" Sirius asked.

"No. Not really."

"Can you tell me about it?"

"I don't want to talk about it Sirius," Harry begged. "Please don't make me. Talk about something else. Anything else."

Harry looked up at his godfather with pleading eyes. Sirius ran a hand through his hair and sat down on the bed next to Harry.

"Did anyone ever tell you how your dad made it on the quidditch team?" Harry shook his head no. "Okay, so this is what happened…"