CHAPTER 2 - BO BREBLAN

For Ron and the rest his class, advanced transfigurations had been another long boring class. But Harry had never been so attentive in his life. He had hung on to McGonagall's every word. He took detailed notes that rivaled Hermione's and asked so many questions that McGonagall got annoyed and told Harry to see her after class if he had any more questions.

"Professor?"

The old witch turned briskly from the board to Harry. "Oh. Yes Mr. Potter?" she sighed exasperatedly.

"Professor, our textbook refers to a book from the Hogwarts library called Magus Me by Bo Breblan? Only it's in the restricted section. I was wondering if you could sign for me so that I can have a look at it." Harry held his breath.

McGonagall scrutinized him intently. Her eyes were sharp and bright behind her square spectacles and she did not break Harry's gaze.

"You see, professor, I've heard a lot about Breblan's work, but that's the only book available on him. And I'd like to reference it and compare it to Advanced Transfiguration. So…"

"Very well Potter. Though I do hope you are aware that this book is in the Restricted Section for a good reason." McGonagall seated herself and scribbled a short note on a piece of parchment and signed it. "Present this to Madame Pince. Do use it responsibly."

"Thank you professor!"

Harry rushed out of the class, smiling from ear to ear.

Madame Pince looked at Harry severely then back at the letter.

"I didn't forge McGonagall's writing, you know. She's given me permission."

The librarian sniffed and walked towards the Restricted Section. Harry followed closely. Despite her sourness Harry was excited. Nothing could bring him down at the moment. Madame Pince tickled the selves with her aged hands and reached for a tiny book at the top-most shelf. She handed it to Harry, ushered him out, locked the door and left without a word.

Harry stared at the pitiful little book. It was no bigger than his hand but it was the final piece to his plan. If he'd had to wait until his next Hogsmead visit to buy it, it would have been too late. And even then, this book wasn't available in any bookstore in Diagon Alley. He would surely have had to venture into Nocturne Alley to obtain it. Harry tucked it safely in his robes for later and headed off to dinner.

"Harry you're late, where were you?" Hermione inquired. Meanwhile Ron was busy stuffing the rest of his mashed potatoes into his mouth before it all disappeared.

"Just had to check something out at the library."

Ron managed a muffled "wha' for?"

"Just something for Flitwick's class," Harry said haphazardly.

"Harry, that's great! You're finally becoming more serious about your education. See Ron? Harry's doing the right thing!"

"What are you yelling at me for!"

A piece of chicken flew from Ron's mouth to land on Harry's shirt. Harry wiped it away. He was used to these kinds of confrontations between his two best friends. And to be honest he was relieved that they were distracted from the subject of his tardiness. Harry would stay until the end of supper. That way Ron and Hermione wouldn't suspect something was up. But the urge to read Bo's work was eating away at him and he became increasingly restless as desert was served. He had no desire to eat, so he merely sat, sipping some pumpkin juice. By now Ron and Hermione had moved away from their first subject and were now having a heated discussion about how girls mature faster than boys. Ron's face was pink and Hermione was frowning. Harry couldn't understand why they were at each other's throats all the time. Yet they still managed to remain good friends. Harry just shrugged the thought off and continued to think of his newly obtained book.

"Mr. Potter."

All discussion in the immediate area ceased immediately. Harry's hands and face became icy and his stomach dropped. He turned towards professor Snape who stood directly behind him, casting his menacing shadow over the Griffindor table.

"Sir?"

"You will accompany me to my office."

Harry suddenly became hot. "But I haven't done anything!"

Snape gave Harry a look that said do not cross me. "You will do as I say, Potter."

"Yes sir." Harry said quietly. For some reason he didn't feel threatened by his potions professor. In fact, he was glad to escape the loud Hall and the smell of food.

"He said he didn't do anything, Snape! Are you deaf?" Hermione gasped. Harry told Ron it was okay.

"20 points from Griffindor, Weasley. Potter…"

Harry gathered his bag, glad that Ron's little outburst only cost him 20 house points. Normally Ron wouls have found himself with Filch cleaning something disgusting. What has gotten into Snape? Harry pushed the thought away. Snape was still Snape. There was no use in hoping otherwise. Harry made sure that the book was still safely tucked away in his pocket before following Snape out of the Great Hall.

Instead of his office, Snape lead Harry into his private study. He closed the door behind Harry and strode behind his desk, his robes billowing. Harry stood there, not knowing what to make of this situation.

"You are not being punished. You may sit." Snape indicated a black upholstered chair in front of the desk. Harry dropped his bag, still hugging the book against him, and took a tentative seat.

Perhaps Snape saw how rigid Harry sat, as he offered the boy some tea, which Harry accepted. The gesture was enough to make Harry worried. This behavior was very un-Snape like. Maybe this was someone else disguised as Snape through polyjuice potion, Harry thought. Or maybe he was under the imperious curse. Or maybe…

"You may relax Potter. I merely wish to inquire."

Harry hugged the book closer to him. Had McGonagall spoken to Snape about Harry's request? Would Snape insist that Harry hand over Breblan's book? If he did Harry would simply say that he had left it in his dorm room. If Snape insisted he retrieve it Harry would hide it and insist he couldn't find it. But whatever happened Harry couldn't let the book fall into Snape's hands. He needed it

"How long has your uncle been abusing you?"

Harry wasn't expecting that sort of question at al and was shocked into silence.

"I…uh…it's been going on for a while. I um, don't remember when it started." Why the hell was he telling Snape this?! He's the greasy unfair potion's master who wished suffering on his students, not the local guidance counselor. Little did Harry know that Snape was thinking along the same lines. In fact, the man was beginning to question his own sanity.

"Am I to understand that you never spoke up because you were scared?"

"Yeah, mostly. I mean, when I was younger, there was no one to tell. Then I came to Hogwarts and it got worse. I suppose uncle Vernon was scared of me. But I thought that if I told anyone they wouldn't believe me."

Snape almost said 'I would have' but refrained from commenting. After all, the truth was that he would have probably used the information against him, just like Potter had said the week before. Then he snorted. As if beating the boy would make his magic disappear. Stupid muggles.

Snape saw confusion in Potter's eyes. Had he snorted out loud? He decided to change the subject.

"How is your arm healing?"

"It's gotten better. I've been applying the cream you gave me. It's working well. What's in it?"

"Arnica. It's a-"

"It's a strong healing agent. It comes from the Arnica flower."

"Well, Mr. Potter all is not lost to you. You seem to have retained some of what I've taught you."

"Just because you don't think I pay attention in your class doesn't mean I don't. Sir." Harry held his breath. He had crossed the line again. He looked nervously at his professor's face, trying to gauge the man's emotions. But Snape seemed to let it pass.

"That is in fact why I've brought you here. You are falling behind. If you do not make an effort to catch up you will not pass the course. Therefore, I have taken the liberty of providing you with some remedial homework. I want it completed by next week. We will have weekly sessions during which I will review your work and estimate your progress."

Snape handed Harry a considerable stack of parchment. Harry didn't know whether to be pleased that Snape was showing an interest in his studies or to be annoyed at the amount of work he had ahead of him. Nevertheless Harry accepted the help graciously and bid his professor goodnight.

Harry knew it was a dream. He knew how the dream would end, because he'd had it so many times before. And no matter how hard he tried he could never wake himself. Every time he tried to save his Godfather. And every time he failed.

Harry woke up, his heart pumping, his adrenaline rushing. He had sweat so much that the sheets were sticking to his skin. Harry lied in his sweaty mess calming himself down. He couldn't help but cry. He was so frustrated and felt so guilty. Although the logical part of him always reminded him that there was nothing more he could have done, his emotions got the better of him. Then his tears turned to streams of anger, rushing forward with unattainable might directed at the one Lord Voldemort. Harry swore that their next confrontation would be their last, and that he, Harry, would be the one left standing in the end. And Harry never broke a promise.

When his body calmed down Harry performed a quick scourgify charm on his bed. Then he crawled back beneath his covers, shaking and cold. He reached under his pillow and retrieved Breblan's book. He started to read, storing each word in his head. This, Harry thought, had to be the answer to his problems. If he could only manage what Bo Breblan had accomplished then there would be no more nightmares.

AU: Plz R&R I don't know what you think of my story if ya don't tell me! Thanks for reading :)