Harry made it through the weekend, managing to avoid everyone by sticking close to Hermione like a Sticking Charm. But that following Monday the older students knew something was up. The headmaster's podium was back and McGonagall looked focused, not eating, preparing herself to speak. Both Harry and Hermione glanced at her all through breakfast and they were the first to notice when she rose.

"Good morning students. I trust that you're all studying hard. Thank you for being flexible with all the changes and new routes to your classrooms. As you know, Quidditch season will be starting soon, and I am happy to announce one… more… appointment! Oliver Wood is coming back to Hogwarts, and will be your new Quidditch instructor and referee."

Harry roared. Students from all house tables turned to look at him.

"I am glad you approve, Mr. Potter." Students laughed. "As our older students know, Oliver Wood was one of Hogwarts most dedicated Quidditch Captains. He played semi-professionally, but has sustained an injury that ended his career too soon. He has been welcomed back at Hogwarts as one of our staff. Although he will be our youngest Professor, please treat him with as much respect as any teacher. Now, you will be happy to hear the first Hogsmeade weekend is coming up shortly. If you have not already, please turn in your permission forms to your Head of House, and no exceptions will be made to anyone under seventeen."

"Oliver Wood!" Harry roared again, walking with Dean, Justin, and Hermione. It would have been worth it to be on the team just to fly with him again.

"Yes, I can't believe he's coming back to Hogwarts. His injury must be really bad," Hermione said, stopping a group of first years from climbing over a barrier to a closed off corridor.

"I heard he got cursed in the finals!" Dean gossiped.

"It's not fair," said Justin. "He was Quidditch Captain for Gryffindor. How is he supposed to be neutral?"

"Madam Hooch belonged to a house once too. I'm sure Wood will be fair. He always was," Hermione reminded them.

"That's true," Harry said. "Wood was always fair. Remember all the stunts that Slytherin pulled while he was captain? Never stooped to their level, not even once. Think he wanted to, though."

"Did you hear? I heard the new Hufflepuff Captain put a Jinx on the Slytherin's Captain so his broom melted into a wet noodle during practice. Fell about 20 feet. Only got detention."

"ONLY got detention? Really? Who was it?"

"Jack Hubert, only a fifth year. How he ended up in Hufflepuff, I don't know."

This year teachers were simultaneously stricter and more lenient. There was a lot of grieving going on, so they allowed outbursts of anger or crying. However, tom foolery was met with a heavy Bludger of points. The new rule of Hogwarts reigned: nothing goes to the headmaster. You could have set the Whomping Willow on fire and only received lines, maybe get banned from Hogsmeade. As the new Head of Hogwarts, McGonagall allegedly was receiving a swarm of Howlers about the broken castle, still employing Snape, allowing the children of Death Eater's to go to school, and now Trelawney as Transfiguration teacher. On top of that, the headmaster was still overseeing the complex spells to rebuild, improve, and fortify the castle. She was often seen storming past students, hair escaping her tight bun, looking harassed and very much on edge.

Through her many new responsibilities and challenges, it did not escape her that Hermione was practically teaching the seventh year Transfiguration class and providing mini lessons in corners of the hallways to frustrated and confused younger students who were unsuited to keep up with Trelawney's jumbled teachings.

McGonagall recently took up the habit of yelling out house points in the hallways 'for no reason.' "50 POINTS TO GRANGER" or "30 POINTS TO GRYFFINDOR!" These random outbursts were scaring the first years as it made the headmaster seem quite deranged. But the meaning was quite clear to others: her subject was being butchered and Hermione was keeping it together.

During last week's class Draco had the misfortune of sitting with most of the Slytherins again and suffered dearly for it. Today he sat only two seats down from Hermione to secure their proximity for today's lessons, not to miss out again. Most of the unofficial eighth year Slytherins still seemed to hate Harry, but weren't impressed by Draco either. Zabini didn't seem bothered either way, which was a nice change of neutrality. The only person that seemed to hate him more than last year, if that was even possible, was Pansy Parkinson, who looked objectively more attractive this year but also started to remind him of Bellatrix with her cruelty and a certain level of childishness.

The seventh years and the unofficial eighth years waited as usual for Trelawney to stumble through the door and then stumble through their lessons, as she refused to follow the book and pick complicated lessons just to prove that she could do the magic. But after 20 minutes it didn't seem like that was going to happen today. Every student kept looking at Hermione to start teaching without the professor present but she resolutely waited until the expectant stares became too much.

"Uhh, well, okay... Umm… soo, we might need to self-study today. …Maybe she's ill."

"Yeah, ill," Draco spat, slamming his book shut. "Do you think if we just came with sherry she'd show up?"

"Do we even want her here at this point?" Ginny said acidly.

"Of course we do!" Hermione pleaded but the students collectively shot her a look. "Well, okay… so uh, three groups today again, I think." But no one divided this time. After some scraping of chairs, they all gathered around Hermione, Draco in front with his parchment, ready to take notes.

Hermione looked nervous. She taught students all the time, but this was her first time playing official teacher. "Well, if I knew this was going to happen I would have made a lesson plan."

"Just make the lesson plan. Or are we supposed to pretend this isn't happening?" Draco demanded loudly, which Harry thought was very rich and entitled of him.

"Uhh, no… of course not. I'm… I'm happy to help. So, I think we should go back to the original lessons, in order. Tea set into a self-playing chess set. This year is all about creating spells that give the transfigured object intelligence. Chess, although requiring logic, each piece has a set of basic rules to follow. So it's easier to instill those basic rules first and work our way up to nuance, or… empathy… or..."

The classroom door burst open making all the students jump. Snape was in the doorway looking livid.

"WHAT do we have here…" His lip curled at Hermione who held a teapot with all the students gathered around her. "Doubtless that covering for a Professor is very noble, and we all should be so lucky, this cannot continue. I will inform the headmistress of this matter, and you will go to my classroom early and wait. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir," Draco said immediately and the Slytherins moved to pack up their things, other students soon following.

Snape held the door open, ensuring they left and headed in the right direction. As Harry passed they locked eyes and both did not look away. What does he want? They passed, expressions unreadable.

In the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, Hermione tried to show them all quickly how to at least turn the teapot into the chess set, nervously glancing at the door every few seconds. But she got a solid 15 minutes of teaching in and although the rest of the class didn't have a teapot, they could at least mimic the words and wand movements. Hermione stuffed her tea set artfully into her bag as soon as Snape barged in the door, robes billowing and furious.

"Is she fired yet?" Draco asked loudly.

"10 points from Slytherin," Snape snapped at his snark. Draco soured even more.

"Granger." Snape made it to the front of the classroom and placed himself directly in front of her. "You are a Prefect. Teach the class if you must, but you will report directly to me if any Professor is unable to teach. Every. Single. Time. I do not want Hogwarts to be an embarrassment this year."

"No, we wouldn't want that after last year," Justin quipped.

It happened very quickly.

Justin's book caught on fire, his bag and quill flew out of the room, his chair walked away on its own accord, and Justin was pushed out of the room by some unknown force, door slamming behind him. Snape lowered his wand arm.

"Do I make myself clear, Miss Granger?"

"… Of course, Professor," and she looked terrified. Snape was deputy headmaster, if she was tasked to rat out a teacher on direct orders she would have to do it.

They all opened their thick books and Snape continued his lesson on the irreversible 800, the most commonly used Dark Art spells that were not hard to learn, but had lasting consequences for the victims as well as hefty legal consequences. Harry's eyes glazed over.

The door opened, McGonagall's voice filling the room. "Severus, I believe I found one of your students." She pushed an uncomfortable Justin back in the classroom holding his bag and looking embarrassed. "Oh, And I found her."

"Do tell, where was she?" he sneered.

"…Hagrid's house."

"She was with Hagrid?"

"…No Severus… he was just as surprised to see her."

Snape made a "TCH" noise in the back of this throat and the class laughed. Even McGonagall gave a weak smile as she left. Justin sat down with his burnt book, unsure if he should.

It was another awful and boring lesson chock-full of wizarding law. Harry couldn't pay attention to the lessons and according to all the faces in their hands, others had equal concentration issues. Some were tapping their quills, some tried doing homework from other classes, but Hermione glued herself to several rolls of parchment, treating it like her new favorite class. Harry ended up just staring at Snape, eyes unfocused. But when he did focus, Snape was pacing, looking at him again. What does he want?

"Sir?" Dean asked, interrupting Snape who looked at him, ready to strike.

"Haven't we had enough distractions for one day?"

"I heard there are a bunch of students in the hospital wing. That the castle is making them sick. Is this true?" Harry and Hermione stared at Dean and then at Snape. "They say the school is leaking Dark Magic from the bowels of the castle. But no one is getting hurt, they're just getting sick. What do you think it is, Professor?"

The class as a whole broke out of their trances and looked at Snape.

"Tell me Mr. Thomas… if you paid attention… surely you could tell ME if it's Dark Magic or not?"

Hermione pursed her lips, bursting with the answer.

"Well… the students are really sick, and they've been sick for weeks…"

"And your answer is…?" Snape smiled, daring him…

"Well, yeah, it seems like Dark Magic."

"NO," Snape shut him down. "Malfoy." Draco stirred, evidently not paying attention either. "Sick students. Dark Magic or not? Why?"

Draco didn't answer at first. He straightened his parchment and quill on the table. "We don't know the caster's intention, so maybe not. None of the students are seriously hurt, they're just forgetful. AND the students who were sick at the very start of the year are better, although they don't remember much. So no, based on the 'DIE standard' it doesn't seem like Dark Magic at all."

"10 points to Slytherin." So, Draco was paying attention after all. Harry furrowed his brow and gave a nuanced look to Hermione. Did you know this? How bad is it? But this information didn't surprise her at all, she must have already known there were students sick in the hospital wing.

"But sir… everyone is saying…" Dean pressured.

"NO," Snape repeated again. "Myths. Paranoia... There is no evidence for it. Panic can do worse harm than magic. Wizards much smarter than you have already ruled out this possibility. Hogwarts is very ancient. The castle, under attack, may have released some defenses that were instilled hundreds of years ago. Once it's been identified it can be sealed again, removed, or nullified. We believe Hogwarts is safe for the time being… or you would not BE HERE this year."

"Sir…. what is 'Enigma Magic?' They're saying it's Enigma Magic. If it's not dark…"

Snape looked at Dean thoughtfully and took the cruelty out of his tone. "Enigma Magic is a crude word for 'unknown magic.' That is all. Nothing more, nothing less."

"But sir, that's not what I heard. I heard Enigma Magic is really powerful!"

"Yes…" Snape rested himself against his desk in a small casual touch he rarely showed. "The popular definition of Enigma Magic is powerful, unknown, or god-like magic, or… 'Holy Magic.' But the textbook definition of an Enigma Spell is any magic that is unknown, unquantified, or unreplicable. When unknown magic is studied, replicated, and enters popular use, it ceases being 'Enigma Magic' and simply becomes… magic."

Snape watched his students sit up in their seats and several hands went up. His eyes rolled, realizing his current lesson was ruined. He didn't answer any of their questions but started walking again, elaborating.

"Corporeal Patronus' were once considered Enigma Magic. Current Enigmas are studied in the Department of Mysteries. Magic that might be considered too great or break our current plane of understanding. Miracles, even for wizards. Magic, even for wizards. Spells that defy known laws, time, or even… death…" Students followed him as he walked around the classroom, Snape clearly enjoying the rapped attention. "Once spells have been studied, researched, tested, and results verified… it moves out of the Enigma Magic classification… and into books, classrooms, and ordinary use."

He paused, looking around the room. "When you first enter Hogwarts all magic may seem impressive… but it is now your seventh year. Most of you have been educated. SO, can you think of a wizard you've met who has astounded and shocked the most advanced wizards of his age?"

"Dumbledore!" Ginny exclaimed.

"Correct," Snape said, bored. "Our former headmaster showed magic so advanced it seemed like miracles to students, friends, and enemies alike." Some people shifted in their seats, no doubt feeling like Snape should not have the privilege of talking about Dumbledore. His innocence was widely published over the summer, Kingsley strong-arming the prophet into printing several factual articles. They even got the Quibbler to run a single very pro-Snape issue, one which Harry prayed Snape didn't read because it made him sound like a sickly saint. A swing too far in the opposite direction.

"So… Dumbledore's magic WAS Godly Enigma Magic?" Dean asked, amazed.

"HAVE YOU NOT been listening? Enigma Magic does not exist, Mr. Thomas. There is magic we understand, study, and replicate, and there is magic we don't understand, study, or replicate. That is all."

"That's not true!" Luna said defiantly. "Daddy says there are MANY magical creatures, including wizards, that have real Enigma Magic! That's very close minded to say."

Justin knew what was coming and looked scared for her. Snape's face contorted and opened his mouth for the strike.

"SIR!" Harry threw up his hand for a distraction. "Out of all of Dumbledore's magic, which ones would you consider… Enigma Magic?" He regretted this. Ohhh, how he regretted this. He was trying to save Luna but now that his brain started to catch up with him, asking Snape about Dumbledore seemed like a terrible idea.

"His accessibility," Snape said coldly. "His likeability. Fools toppled over to please him," his voice got quieter, nastier. "Talented wizards bowed to him. Great men and women did everything he asked, unquestioningly…" and he only had eyes for Harry. "In short, his charisma and power of persuasion. Muggle powers, all."

The words weighed down the classroom.

"I can see why you'd think charisma is Enigma Magic," Dean said loudly. The class laughed automatically but quickly shut their mouths, worried.

"A THICK Gryffindor like yourself wouldn't get that Snape is perfectly charismatic and persuasive, you thick flobberworm!" Draco whirled around to spit at him.

"You don't think Snape was charismatic or persuasive to Voldemort?" Harry raised his voice too, joining the fight. "We're in seventh year, so let's drop this 'Snape sucks' bit, yeah?"

"I DON'T need help from EITHER OF YOU!" Snape snapped at both of them in turn.

"Sorry Professor," Harry looked back to the front of the class. Draco did not apologize.

The rest of the class was spent with students asking an annoyed Snape about different magic they've seen that mystified them, asking if 'that was Enigma Magic.' They almost all were not even close. Despite the slurry of stupid questions, including some about complicated chore spells, Snape didn't seem at all upset his class was hijacked. He did, after all, seem to be an expert in spell creation and classification, and maybe, just maybe… he enjoyed the attention.

"That was a really good lesson," Hermione said after they left. "I wasn't expecting him to go over so many laws and classifications. A lot of them must be trial precedents because those weren't in our textbooks at all. He would know the difference between magic that is considered dark, but not punishable. There's a lot of nuance there. And it's fascinating to find out what magic were considered Enigmas before they became common use. I can see why people thought Patronus' were holy magic at first. Pretty and useful, aren't they? And how they change sometimes."

"Yeah, it was a good lesson. He knows his stuff. Do… do you think I should talk to him?"

"What?"

"Do you think I should… talk to Snape? About what I saw in the Pensive? About my mum?" he whispered.

"Harry, why would you?" They walked closer together so no one else could hear.

"I don't know… I think Snape actually wants to talk to me. But I feel like if I do he's going to bite my head off."

"Harry…" she bent even closer. "Why in the world would you corner Snape when you can't even talk to Ginny!"

"Finally switched girlfriends, Potter? Need something to distract you from all that screaming?" Pansy walked by quickly shooting him a gleeful look, Draco right behind her looking mortified by her behavior.

Harry just stared as they passed, trying to comprehend the insult. "…Who's screaming? What does she mean?" He turned back to Hermione but she looked nervous. Dean and Justin both exchanged a look and walked away quickly. She wasn't looking at him, buying time, so Harry cut her off in the hallway. "Out with it."

"Oh, Harry, it's nothing…"

"Out with it!"

"No, really, Harry, they're just rumors… you don't care about those, remember?"

"If there is something I need to know, you're going to tell me! What are people saying?"

"Well, I'm sure you already know!" Her voice raised a notch, not looking him in the eye. "You're not sleeping well, no one is. It's not a big deal."

"What is THAT supposed to mean?"

"It means… it means Harry… you just might be… not sleeping… or yelling … or … you know, talking in your sleep. I'm sure we all do it."

"We all DON'T do it!" he yelled. Of course he was disturbing people with his nightmares. Why didn't he foresee this? "So… so I'm…"

"Dean… and Neville… say you've been… you know, talking a lot in your sleep. Sometimes you … thrash around a bit."

"So I'm keeping everyone up?"

"I… I don't know Harry… they don't seem to mind. I'm sure they understand."

"Of course they mind!" Harry couldn't believe she kept this from him. Of course he was disturbing everyone else, Snape knew he would. He was having horrible dreams at Grimmauld Place, why would they just stop because he was here? "You should have told me!" he growled at her, unsure where to direct his anger.

"I couldn't! I didn't want you to be self-conscious! You've been through enough! We've been through enough!"

"Disturbing everyone is making my problems worse, not better! YOU should have TOLD ME!" He yelled, scaring a group of second years passing.

"Harry, every Saturday morning I am leading a grief group, and you should be there! Everyone attends- Luna, Dean, Neville, and even some Slytherins. You should come! It is the most house unity we've ever had. We take the Draught of Acceptance at the end and it's very helpful. I feel a lot better!"

"Is Ginny there?" Her face said it all. "Well, I'm not going." He turned around and stalked away.

"Harry!" She caught up with him. "You're being impossible!"

"I get gawked at enough, I don't need that, thanks. I'm not going to a meeting where everyone cries and hugs afterwards. I would rather duel Draco and his whole family than go to a meeting like that."

Hermione tried to argue with him all the way to their next class. Harry refused to listen, completely sick of her, completely sick of everyone. "FINE! Don't GO to the meeting. At LEAST go to Madam Pomfrey and get something for dreamless sleep. It's like you don't even want to help yourself, I don't understand! You don't want to embarrass yourself by waking everyone up, but you don't even want to try a potion to ease it! You can't ride from both ends of your broomstick!"

So, everyone knew he was screaming and thrashing in his sleep? This wasn't exactly new behavior for him… but it seemed indecent to do now that he was of age. The war was over, he should be able to control these things.

Harry was so upset he turned around and completely skipped potions. Automatically he found his way up to the seventh-floor corridor, pacing about, begging the wall to open, asking for a safe place, away from everyone. It remained solid wall. Hearing talking and laughter coming his way, Harry booked it, hiding behind a statue until some students passed that were checking out the wreckage throughout the castle. Making his way back, he studied all the portraits on the wall and then longingly at where the door should be. So many students knew about it now. It could be used for anything by anyone. If he only could use it as a place to sleep…

Harry skipped dinner too that night. Now that the library was crammed full of seventh and eighth years, the exact people he wanted to avoid, he made do in an empty classroom and attempted some homework, but it was no use. Now that his own subconscious was being pointed out to him, it didn't seem like he was able to put off thinking about things forever. Fred, Lupin, Tonks, and all of the students that lost their lives. Somehow it was his fault. Logically he did not know how, but it was. It just was. He could have been sneakier looking for the Horcruxes. He could have found a way to do it, he had the Invisibility Cloak. But instead he woke up the entire castle and started a siege.

It was almost curfew and Harry had to make a decision. Putting on his Invisibility Cloak and stepping out of the classroom, he made his way downstairs instead of up to Gryffindor tower.

The hospital wing was dark as he pushed open the doors, all the candles dim. Six young students were laid out on beds, motionless. Seeing their bodies Harry couldn't help it, pushing open the doors, feet carrying him in. His mouth dropped as he walked the length of the room, staring at the students in their beds, sick and helpless, remembering everyone he loved also in this room over the years. Did he look that small too?

"Harry!" an excited whisper called to him.

"Oh! Hey!" Oliver Wood came in right behind him, holding his arm. "Alright? It's been forever," and he gave him a one-armed hug. "I can't believe you're back."

"You should talk! Can't believe you're here either!" They moved to a far corner where their whispers wouldn't wake anyone.

"What are you doing here, are you hurt?" Wood searched him.

"What, me? No, I just came to look at the… the students. Can't believe it's happening. It feels like the Chamber of Secrets, doesn't it? Hogwarts is full of these secrets- I think I'm getting tired of them."

"I know what you mean," Wood said, looking at the far beds. "But! No one is dying. No giant Basilisk. No Voldemort, thanks to you."

Harry did not want the subject to fall on him. "Your arm, everything okay?"

"This? Oh, no, it's my injury. Devastated to lose my spot on the team, but Hogwarts, Harry! I can't believe I got invited back. Shame you're not on the team, though. George's sister is good, but with the tryouts, I'm just not sure it's going to be enough. The Gryffindors look a little weak this year."

Harry laughed. "Watch it now."

"Harry." Madam Pomfrey stepped out of the back room. "Ohhhh, it is good to see you." She walked over to them, handing Wood a potion and a salve. "How are you dear, anything I can get for you?"

"Oh, oh no. I just… heard the students are getting sick, wanted to see what was going on. Concerned."

"Yes…" Madam Pomfrey nodded. "We had a lot of students in here on their second day. They seem to get sick as soon as they arrive, and then they rally. I don't know what's going on. This has been the strangest decade in Hogwarts history. Each year I think it's going to be over."

"Yeah…" Harry thought about Madam Pomfrey being the only healer at the Battle of Hogwarts. She probably deserved an Order of Merlin.

"Uh well, so I see the students, thank you, and, I'm just going to get going. Bye now." The sleeping potion was just going to have to wait. Pomfrey watched him go like she'd seen thousands of students walk in her doors, chicken out, and leave without divulging their injuries. Wood and Harry walked together.

"George seems to be doing okay, I saw him over the summer. How's Ron doing?"

"Ron?" Harry asked, trying to sound casual. "Oh yeah, he's fine. Holding up," he lied. "Busy. It's good to have you back though."

"I heard," Wood laughed. "You disrupted the whole hall when they said my name."

"You're like… from a simpler time. A time where I didn't have to think so hard… about everything… I don't know what I was thinking- I should have signed up for Quidditch this year! But I couldn't. I must be mad. I always felt better flying."

"Yeah, the best of us feel that way…but you never really escape your problems. The best Quidditch players I know have terrible home lives. Escapism, you know?"

"Yeah…."

Wood invited Harry to his quarters for a drink but Harry refused, citing bed. They said their goodbyes and then…. Nothing. Harry put back on his Invisibility Cloak and tried the Room of Requirement again. It didn't budge. Did it burn from the inside out?

Escaping to another unused classroom he conjured a blanket and pillow. Now… THIS would be the time to escape to Grimmauld Place… go home and sleep in his own bed. Harry got up several times, once to lock the door, a second time to ward it. Too uncomfortable to sleep, disturbed thoughts seeped back into his mind, waiting for him. The sick students lined up in the hospital wing leaked into thoughts of Mrs. Weasley crying over Fred. And then Lupin's still body… it should have been him. He should have died. He should be dead.

This won't do. Pulling out his Invisibility Cloak again, he slipped out of the room. Well, at least his friends would get a good night sleep tonight without him there.

He felt impossibly tired but would rather move around than lie on the cold floor thinking another minute. There were so many damaged portions of the castle… maybe he could walk pass the barriers and check them out. Perhaps walk up every tower and see what kind of repairs they were doing.

Or Kreacher, he's probably from Grimmauld Place, he could swing by the kitchens to see him. Or find the Grey Lady and thank her for last year…

Screams. Laughter.

A loud commotion was happening in a nearby hallway, noisy destruction that could only mean a duel. Abandoning all caution Harry ran straight towards the shouting, flashes, and bangs. Snape slid into view, cloak billowing behind him, his leg caught on something invisible. A few quick slashes and –

"Got him! I got him!" Laughter and giggling, and- "OUCH!"

"Are you okay?" said a girl's voice.

"No, ow! Let's go, come on!"

Students fully hooded wearing no house colors shot spells from behind a statue. Snape, who evidently could not say anything, shot several nonverbal spells back at them. They mercifully missed on purpose, destroying the statue. They screamed and fled after the corridor filled up with gas emanating from Snape's wand. Their footsteps hurried away and he sent some extra spells after them for good measure.

Alone, Snape gave a shuddering breath and his wand arm fell. And right as he lowered his guard, a spell shot through the mist and hit Snape right in the face, severing off chunks of his hair.

"Hey! What are you, first years!? How DARE you attack a teacher!" Harry threw off his Invisibility Cloak and sent a Patronus after them, scaring the daylights out of them. They screamed, running away for real this time from the glowing animal charging them down.

Students gone, Harry quickly undid the silencing spell on Snape, instantly wishing he didn't.

"POTTER! I am not a DAMSEL IN DISTRESS!" he exploded, looking like he was about to hurl hexes at him too. "I can handle myself against students. Not KILLING THEM is the HARD PART!"

"But sir!"

"I have been attacked by students FOR YEARS, if you have forgotten- I am quite . ."

"Yes sir, but-!"

"GET BACK TO BED!" he roared. And Harry could see there were several cuts on his breast, buttons missing, and his cloak was properly burned at the bottom. Harry positively stared at these which made Snape even angrier. "BED, POTTER!" and Snape forced his wand to point directly at his throat, looking murderous.

"Hospital wing! I was going to the hospital wing!"

"Then go..." Snape whispered in his most dangerous voice yet. "I don't need your pity, Potter. Not now, not ever..." and his voice seemed to haunt him down the hallway as he left.

As he walked towards the hospital wing he would not visit, he swallowed, thinking. Snape was being bullied again at Hogwarts, still suffering the same treatment from his adolescence. After gambling his life for Dumbledore's greater good, he endured the school-wide tirade against his authority last year although he was probably trying to prevent their torture on the back end. And even now with innocence vouched for, he still endured bullying, the students not so forgiving after the Carrow's treatment.

Slipping up to the seventh floor again, he paced, asking for the Room of Requirement. He needed it more now than ever. Asking. Begging. Pleading. …But it did not appear for him. Doubling back to the barren Transfiguration classroom, he practiced transforming each chair into a desk and the desks back into chairs. He didn't remember falling asleep.