He tried to empty his mind that night, he really did. But somehow, the effort was increasing his still throbbing headache, and Harry doubted that he would fall asleep at all if he continued. With a small twinge of guilt, he slipped into an uneasy rest.
Breakfast the next morning was the same as always. The restless night had taken it's toll on Harry, who was pushing his food around on his plate, fighting to keep his eyes open. Harry's bruises had healed completely, thanks to Snape's potion. No one would ever suspect that anything had happened the night before. Snape had not even cast a glance in his direction, and Harry was more than thankful for that.
That was until the post arrived and an owl, a school owl, gracefully landed in front of Harry, reaching out it's leg for Harry to untie the letter which was attached. Harry did so and studied it.
Mr. Potter
There was something familiar with the writing, but he couldn't put his finger on it. With a small curious frown, he ripped it open with little grace, and read through it quickly. He then read it again, begging that he had read it wrong. But no, there was no misunderstanding. It stood clear as day:
Caused by certain events yesterday evening, your remedial potion lesson was not completed. Therefore, you will make up for it by having another tonight, 7 o'clock. Do not be late
It was not signed, but it didn't need to be as Harry knew all too well who had sent it. With dread churning in his stomach, he realized that he had recognized the writing seeing that Snape always wrote the potion instructions on the blackboard. He folded the letter and put it in his pocket as he looked up at the head table. Cold, dark eyes met his, daring him to defy the instructions. With a glare, Harry left breakfast early. If he was to survive tonight, he would have to try to empty his mind.
The clock ticked far too quickly, and suddenly it was five to seven o'clock. Harry was standing outside the door to the usual classroom, and had stood there for long enough time to memorize the carvings in the door. He felt like a child on it's way to the dentist, who hadn't brushed his teeth in a week before today. Only that the dentist was a greasy, sarcastic evil bat who did all he could to bring Harry down.
After a reluctant knock, and a stiff "enter", Harry did so and seated himself where he always sat. The air was awkward, to put it lightly. Memories from the day before flooded through Harry's brain, and he cringed as he realized he had apologized to a man who was playing him. God, he could really be stupid sometimes.
Snape was watching Harry intently, his dark slits for eyes boring into Harry's green ones, who was too tired to be intimidated by the man.
"It may have caught your attention that these lessons have yet to prove effective. You'd think that after all the time we've spent together you'd improve even moderately. Yet, you've somehow done the opposite. Now answer me this Potter, do you want to die?"