Chapter II. Grimmauld Place

This time Harry smiled, as the strange feeling of suffocation subsided and Hogwarts castle came into view; he realized that he'd just Apparated for the first time. Snape still had a firm grip on his arm and steadied him as the Headmaster came running to the gates, and Harry's heart leapt at the sight of him.

He was safe now.

"Severus! Harry!" He sounded panicked, and the words brought him back to reality- the grey sky, the wind on his face… He felt dizzy suddenly, and was glad Snape had not let go of him. "Are you alright? What happened?" He brushed Harry's messy hair away from his face, pulling him close into a tight embrace. "Damned Death Eaters," Snape growled, and none dwelled on how ironic this was. Realization flashed in Dumbledore's blue eyes.

"The game is up, then? Thank God you were there, Severus! Thank God!" Snape nodded tentatively as Albus squeezed his hand. "Grimmauld Place. You must… He will expect you to remain together… the only way…" "Naturally;" and with this the cloaked man was about to Disapparate when Harry stopped him with a sharp, "Professor!" Snape froze. "Thank you." "Of course," the man replied, and was gone.

Harry then felt himself being led inside. "You must tell me everything," he coaxed, and it made Harry shudder right down to the marrow. He could not, he simply couldn't … He closed his eyes, trying to measure his breaths, and let relief flood thought his bones that he was with someone who cared, who would do anything for his safety. They were in the Entrance Hall now. "What is there to say?" he tried shakily, and was surprised when he was not pressed further. He hardly noticed they had stopped dead in their tracks. But out of the blue something occurred to him. "Sir, wouldn't Professor Snape have known about the plot to take me? Sir?"

It was clear his question had unnerved Dumbledore. The truth was that he was just looking for another reason to hate him, because he hated being in the man's debt- he had saved his life again. His subconscious knew, of course, that this was the same way Snape had felt (still felt, he made all too clear) about his father. "Lord Voldemort does not tell his servants everything, Harry. Especially not one who spends so much time here," came the slow reply. Dumbledore was choosing his next words very carefully. "But he suspected something sinister when he was asked to brew the potion. That was why he alerted me when he was called tonight."

Another pause. "You must go to Grimmauld Place too, Harry. It's safe there." No. Harry absolutely refused to set foot in that awful place, the place his Godfather had lived and hated. It would be dark not he could not go without Sirius, no… especially not with the only man not sorry to see him gone He shook his head resolutely. "I can't," he said firmly, unnerved at how small he sounded, the way his voice quivered. He was close to tears. Dumbledore's knowing sigh only exasperated him. "You must carry on this fight . For him. He would want you to. And the only way to do that is continuing Occlumency." He couldn't be serious. But it brought to mind something else, something he couldn't quite push out- Sirius, mad fit to burst in the floo, yelling, "He did WHAT?" when he'd learned that Snape had discontinued the lessons. He needed them… had needed…

"You cannot deny their importance," Dumbledore seemed to read his thoughts. Rubbing it in! He might as well come out and say it was his own fault for not trying to learn it in the first place. He'd hit a weak spot, and Harry boiled with rage, fists clenched. It couldn't be his fault that Sirius had died, not really. If-

But it was his fault. It was so completely undeniably his fault, and he saw it now. There was just him. There was no one else to blame, suddenly. It hurt, it hurt and it stung, as all the anger redirected to himself. He had been tricked and let himself be lured to the point of needing rescue, and had lost the only thing that ever mattered. It was as if a thousand sharp arrows were pointed at him, poised and ready to strike. He felt cold, as if a dementor had sucked the happiness from him. Why had he lived tonight? He looked at the Headmaster and shuddered. He owed it to Sirius…

"You're right," he muttered quietly, part of him hoping it wasn't audible, but of course it was. Dumbledore took his hand and back outdoors they went to Apparate. The sight of Hagrid's hut was strangely comforting, but it was soon gone. For Sirius, he thought as he walked into the dreaded, bleak house…

To be flung into the arms of a very concerned Remus. Harry had not expected that, and welcomed it. If Lupin could find the strength to stay here, so could he. "I'm so glad to see you safe," he said genuinely, and Harry felt blackness return. What had Snape told him? "Enjoying the company?" he mocked, if only to fight the wave of nausea at the sight of the sitting room, so damp. "Don't, Harry," Remus frowned. "I'm quite grateful, actually. Without him we would've lost you. And he's been making Wolfsbane Potion for me." They faced each other in pained understanding.

"I must be going then," broke in Dumbledore before he Disapparated. This gave Harry the slightest twinge of annoyance. Couldn't even be bothered to-

"I'm afraid I won't be joining you for dinner. Full moon." Neither said more for a moment. "Well, best not keep his waiting." "No," agreed Harry, forcing his way to the large basement, the same one where- a lump was forming in his throat as he took a seat.

Snape stood with his back turned, looking as much like an overgrown bat as ever, but intimidating as always. "Occlumency is not an art that can be taught," he began icily, turning to face him, "without a willing pupil. It is delicate, fragile, essential. You will try you hardest this time and put forth true effort. You will not try my patience. And I will get something through that thick skull of yours. Stand up." Harry obeyed quickly, bracing himself for the powerful curse.

"Legilimens!"

And suddenly it was all flooding through him- Sirius that night in the Shrieking Shack, desperate to get him to understand, assuring him he would be all right. Sirius in the floo, hugging him as he promised a forever home, Sirius falling through the veil…

Then the lump returned, and he remembered, finally managing to push Snape out, mustering everything he had. "Pathetic as usual," he admonished. "I refuse to be berated by sappy memories of your Godfather. Control, Potter." These last words were clipped, as if he were on the verge of deciding something, though Harry didn't pick up on it. "You're forgetting, maybe, that I am the reason he is dead. The words were harsh, and Snape waited for them to sink in before continuing. "I did nothing. You told me he was in danger, and I ignored you, went on, did nothing. Should have gone to the dementors your third year." He fully enjoyed watching the color leave Harry's face. "Much better fate for the likes of him. Sorry they missed their chance."

Now. Now Snape did it, when it was enough to catch the boy off guard.

"Legilimens!" And it was mere seconds before Snape was thrown against the wall, the first time he had been blocked. It had worked. "What were you?" Harry fumed, obviously angry, unable to finish his sentence. Snape looked him in the eye. "I channeled your anger, Potter. There is one thing in life I am positive you absolutely hate- me. I riled you up enough to force you to want me out of your mind, really want it," he explained, seeing the skeptical look on the boy's face. "And it worked," he said, cooling off now. "So all I have to do when it's Voldemort is remember how he murdered my parents?" "It's not that simple," Snape spat back. "Nothing ever is." It had taken the boy this long, he thought grumpily, but he had, indeed, succeeded. The sore on Snape's bum and the likely bruise on his head attested to that.

Brushing off his usual black, buttoned down shirt, he rose and stared into those shining eyes- Lily's. He shuddered. Not a day went by when did not think of her. He must prepare her son for what was coming. But before he could speak a word the brat had already begun. "I know this might be dangerous," he said, cautiously, "but I'm going to ask anyway. Why do you see my father every time you look at me?" Potter was now seated again, and they stared at each other as if it was a stand-off.

In that moment, that moment, that moment when Snape had been goading him about the death of his Godfather, he realized that it had been none the git's fault at all. He had even tried to warn Sirius about going that night. And he'd had a good reason for calling off the lessons- Harry had snuck into his private Pensieve, and witnessed what could only be described as an agonizing memory- though what he had done in his Death Eater days must agonize him far more, Harry mused, not processing that he did not have any doubt anymore about Snape's loyalties. He had given himself up in front of Voldemort to save him- Snape must feel remorse, after all.

In awe, a sudden wave of gratitude burst through Harry, in time for the biting reply. "I do recall telling you not to speak of it again." The dark tone led one to surmise that three was something dangerous lurking beneath the surface. But Harry went on, determined- Gryffindor pride, the Potions Master huffed internally. "I would never do what he did to you. It was wrong- so wrong." "You haven't exactly proved it, have you? Always getting into trouble…"

"The trouble finds ME!" harry was losing patience. Was he apologizing or not? Yes- even if his teacher didn't accept it. "I guess," he chuckled, "that this is my way of saying I'm sorry. For breaking into your Pensieve." Snape raised an eyebrow. "Never thought I'd hear it," he admitted. "But yes, I suppose you are." "I always wanted to be like them, look up to them." Anger was bubbling in him, showing in his cherry facial complexion. How could Snape remain so cool and collected? It was maddening. "Ruined you image of your perfect father and Godfather, did I?" He was smirking, and something gave deep inside of Harry Potter then.

"That's what you wanted, wasn't it?" he boomed. "All those years…" The snide comments, glares, had all been payback for something he'd never done. He'd had enough. "And just because I look like him." He could not tell what he saw as his green eyes met the black; rage, a fiery inferno, yes, but more- was it- sadness? He had been voicing his own true, raw feelings to a man who hated him and he would reap the repercussions. But to his utter shock the response, while predictably dark, was unaccountably soft, as if it were costing Snape to say it.

"Not completely." It was almost a whisper, and at Harry's flinch he regretted it instantly. "You have your mother's eyes." Neither spoke for a moment, Harry trying to ponder what that could possibly mean. He was glad to note that when Snape continued the firmness and control returned. It was like acid, like they were in the potions classroom and not Sirius's house. The familiarity of it was like a slap of the face. "Get out, Potter. Before you say something else ridiculously stupid." You didn't have tell him twice; as soon as Snape turned again he was up, hand on the doorknob when he froze. It was like déjà vu.

Snape whirled on his heels to face the boy. "Are you quite convinced now, Potter? That I would give my life for you?" Harry gulped and muttered a "Yes, sir," before bolting , not wanting to give him a chance to kill him. He knew what that sneer meant.