It was a new day, but the sun did not seem to rise anymore. The clouds hung over the castle like the shroud of the inevitable funeral. Snape sat at the head table watching the trio with a detached expression. Potter stood up and was heading toward the door. Hermione had somehow felt his eyes, sending an image of the cursed necklace in his direction… So the boy was in search of a culprit. Of course Draco wasn't doing himself any favors. The stock that he came from had always been more proud than surreptitious. These days Draco appeared neither. It was hard to see his grandson reduced to less than a former image of himself. He knew the demons that he was dealing with, but the stubborn fool wouldn't let him in. Perhaps he still kept his pride after all. Maybe he was making up for what his father had lost. No, it wouldn't be long now before this act would come to a close. Hermione flashed her worried eyes towards him for a moment. He looked down at his plate and sent her an image of himself following the boys. This appeared to soothe her fears, as she returned to her food.

His cloak followed his long strides down the corridor towards the male bathroom. The tingling in his wrist was increasing again, tearing at him like thorns… Death was encroaching upon his charge and himself. Snape quickened his pace expecting to see Potter with a dagger in his hand as he opened the double doors. What peered back at him, was in fact more shocking. It was the aftermath of his Sectumsempra. Had the boy been arrogant enough to use such a dangerous spell without knowing what followed? More to the point, it could have been a spell of his own design that could have cost him his life. He fought back the shivering feeling that crept up on him like an old friend. He looked down at the bloody body- and all that he could see when he looked up again was that self-justified prick, James, reflected in Harry's mother's eyes. He was backing away into the shadows, yes Potter, we all slink there sometimes.

"Do you know what I think, Potter?" said Snape, very quietly. "I think that you are a liar and a cheat and that you deserve detention with me every Saturday until the end of term. What do you think, Potter?"

"I – I don't agree, sir," said Harry, still refusing to look into Snape's eyes. His green orbs were still fixed on his unexpected consequences.

"Well, we shall see how you feel after your detentions," said Snape. "Ten o'clock Saturday morning, Potter. My office."

"But, sir ..." said Harry, looking up desperately, uncertain of how to persuade the man who was never on his side in appearance.

"Ten o'clock."' whispered Snape. "Now GO before you cause any more damage."

Snape murmured the incantation to halt and heal the spreading cuts. His words intermingled with the sound of water cascading on the crimson tile. As Draco was catching his breath, words poured from of his pale lips. "I can't…"

Snape continued his healing until the results were satisfactory. "For me," he seethed, "I wish that were an option. I will clean up your mess here, as usual. Head back to the dungeon, immediately."

Draco had a bitter, hurt look on his face. The boy seemed to have grown ten years over night, but he was still far too young to tango with Snape. He knew the time alone would cause him to strengthen his resolve. Good. It would make him look better in the eyes of their enemy and master.

His mind played one of Dumbledore's pep talks, they had them so often these days. "You must be the one to do it," the old man urged on, "only then will the Dark Lord trust you completely." One could assume he was determined to maintain the innocence of his students. What the hell was he then? After youth were you only of use as a tool? Had it never occurred that he was only human and not some automaton expected of performing actions without falter or pain? Ever faithful like a dog? Was it expected that affection from someone, anyone- especially a bright and beautiful young witch, would not awake him from the eternal slumber he was to face? That was, if he wasn't enduring it already. Dumbledore was a cruel man. Almost as cruel and blind as the monster he fought against. He hated to admit it, but recent developments determined Potter a pawn as well. He felt the distant sting of empathy; and somewhere in the blackest pit that he hated, a smug satisfaction. The old man, the boy's hero, knew a part of Voldemort lived inside of him. An accidental horcrux. This meant when the time came, the boy must die. Just like Lily. And all of his endeavors were all the more worthless.

"You've been raising him like a pig for slaughter." Snape spat.

Then Dumbledore had the gall to ask him about loyalty. Him of all people.

When he closed his eyes and tried to imagine a better time, he somehow found himself thinking of sensations from not so long ago. Her curly hair, her velvet face, her laughter in class like a bell, her indignant face when the potion did not turn out the way the book said it should, her fascination at revelations in their conversations. Oh, the thoughts that she had shared and desired to make a reality. Her doe eyes persistently peering up at him from behind worn out pages.

For a moment he was afraid. "Expecto patronum!" He shouted as the familiar figure leapt about the tower. His patronus, like Hermione's eyes, remained a doe. Although Dumbledore could see no difference, Snape could feel it as soon as it exited his wand. This was no longer a mimic of Lily's, but made of happy thoughts all of his own. Real, and unimagined as they had been before. Yes, he loved Lily. He still did, he always would. "Always." He murmured. But that was an unrequited love. But the way that this felt now was like feeling the sun from both sides… He still had some revelations to make of his own.

xxx

Again it was time for D.A.D.A. Snape had to admit, it was a nice change of pace to be able to hurl spells at students; it dealt more of a blow than words alone. Hermione's form was taking nicely, he noted as he watched her skirt sway backward as she arched and cast a wordless spell at Miss Brown. Was she mirroring his own? The chubby girl flew backward and landed in a heap. There still appeared to be some tension there… Although, notably, it was only on the opposing end. However, he could use this to his advantage.

"Miss Granger." He announced thickly, only to see her hazel eyes look to him as if she were caught in headlights. The class stalled as expected. "Using wordless magic is not the objective of this lesson, and as such, Miss Brown was clearly unprepared for your assault."

"Sir, I was only trying to-"

"It appears you would like to scrub cauldrons after Potter here has finished sweeping the classroom with his Nimbus this Saturday."

He noted the angry look from the chosen one, thankful for nothing more.

"I…"

"That was not a question." Snape snarled, "Back to work, all of you."

Again the class was ablaze with lights and sounds. In the midst of the chaos, he sent her the words, "Everything is alright."

He could see the corners of her lips perk up for a second before she performed a stunning block. Come to think of it, those were the first words they had shared mentally. He could feel the corners of his mouth move as well.

They would need more time to practice and hone their skills before they were to separate… The time would come but he would be ready. He chose to live moment to moment as he had since the war had begun. He never knew if tomorrow would show its face. He never cared. That was, until now.