Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series or any of the character's it contains

XXX

As Harry trudged his way towards the Gryffindor tower he could feel the absent seer of anger bubbling inside him. He knew where the anger was coming from, that much was obvious to him. The whole situation was angering. The fact that after all this time the only way to defeat Voldemort was for he himself to die; that he would be unable to see his parents' death avenged, after all this time; that he wasn't allowed to share the new and horrible truth with his friends. The most angering out of everything, though, had to be his Headmaster's stupidity in thinking he'd given Harry a chance to enjoy himself. It seemed incredulous, really, that the old man would suggest a thing as ridiculous as him enjoying himself in the short time before he marched off to meet his death at the hands of the man that had murdered his parents, not to mention been the cause of his Godfather's death!

As he arrived at the fat lady, he mumbled a nearly inconceivable, "fortifer", and hurried inside as soon as the door began to open.

At having entered the room, at least a dozen eyes turned to stare at him; but the moment past and everyone turned their attention back to what they'd been previously engaged in. Well, not everyone, of course; his friends continued staring and waiting for him to approach them. Instead, though, Harry decided to walk past them casually, hoping with every fibre that they'd just let him go for now.

"Harry." The voice of his friend possessed an air of entitlement that made him grind his teeth together angrily. He turned, slowly, to meet Hermione's gaze, a pleading look in his eyes, but as she raised her eyebrow's he realized he had already lost the unspoken argument. Moving around the standing figure that was Ron, he slumped beside her in her chair and rested his cheek on her shoulder.

"Too many people…" He mumbled, darting his eyes around the all-too familiar common room.

"We'll wait." As Hermione said it, he felt himself slump even further down into the chair; a feeling of defeat washed over him as his friend wrapped her arm around him. He sighed, thinking to himself that this was the closest he would ever be to feeling comforted by his friends again because of the large truth that would soon separate him. He was not, contrary to Snape's belief, foolish enough to think he would be able to maintain the level of closeness he currently felt with his friends now that this new development had arisen.

Yawning, he realized how truly tired he was. He knew he had not fully wrapped his brain around what his Headmaster had told him and because of that there was a chance he might get a good night's sleep. This night, though, would likely be the last he slept through, because once he could no longer deny the truth he doubted very much he'd have the audacity to waist his 'precious' time on something so futile as sleep.

"Hermione, I'm tired. Come up to our rooms." Standing, he motioned his two friends to join him and waved a goodnight to Neville and Ginny. Though he would not be telling Ron and Hermione anything of true importance he couldn't risk giving any information about horcrux's out to anyone who didn't already know.

He could feel his feet drag as he made his way up the stairs and into his and Ron's room, but he couldn't bother to care. He took a seat at the top of his bed, covering his mouth as another yawn escaped and waiting as Hermione and Ron sat down across from him, on Ron's bed.

"So Harry, mate, what was it Dumbledore wanted?" His friends words and Hermione's added nod made him cringe; the thought that he was about to start a lie that would continue until his death was upsetting enough to make him not want to look into his friends' faces while he did it. So he cast his eyes down, silently cursing circumstance as he tried to word his sentence as to not be a complete lie.

"Er, well it was just what we'd thought! It was about horcrux's." He breathed, realizing the truth in his words that his friends would not get. Hearing a squeak from Hermione, he hastened to the end of his explanation, "Actually, though, no real news. Just that I should be prepared to aid him in finding and destroying them this year.' He looked up, and seeing the disappointment at the obviousness of his words, he added a quick, "Oh, and I have to try and learn occlumency again this year with Snape." Ron's eyes darted up at that, containing a mixture of excitement and horror in them.

"Oi, Harry, why is it you always get stuck with that greasy git?" Though he heard Hermione protest something about how 'he was on their side' and that 'Dumbledore trusts him', Harry couldn't help but agree.

Why is it I'm always stuck with him… Why is he the only one who is allowed to know the truth?

"I'm honestly beginning to think the fates are against me, Ron." The gravity in his words, though known only to him, made him shudder. He turned without saying good night; lying down and throwing his blankets over his still-clothed body, he drifted off.

XXX

He was looking into the cold, dead eyes of a woman with the only feeling being glee.

"Master!" A pathetic sounding voice came from the corner of the meek and humid room. Turning, he saw Peter Pettigrew, slightly hunched, in the corner.

"Wormtail, fetch another mudblood." The alien voice came from his own mouth and he suddenly clued in that he was in Voldemorts head. As he saw Wormtail bringing in a nearly unconscious girl, he struggled to wake up.

"Crucio!" As the spell sounded and the girl started writhing, a pain shot through Harry as well. Trying to resist the shackles of Voldemorts mind, though, he continued struggling.

"Bring me Severus."

As he jolted awake suddenly, it took all he had to keep himself composed long enough to make it to the bathroom. He barely made it before he started vomiting; he emptied himself for what felt like hours before wrapping himself around the base of the toilet. He was suddenly over joyous for the occlumency he was being over; he'd have to properly thank Snape in the morning.

A shiver ran through him as he lay on the cold tile of the bathroom, replaying his nightmare in his mind. He hated the look of death in that poor women's eyes and it made him sick to think about all the horror's Voldemort had caused. He thought of Cedrick, Sirius and his parents; all of whom had lost their lives for the same cause that he would. They were only a few among many more that had died at the end of Voldemort's wand and as Harry realized this he also realized his sacrifice was not larger than many other peoples.

Still, though, he couldn't help the feeling of anger that came when he thought of it. He felt such a loss at the thought that he'd die before he had the chance to experience so many things. He knew even if it was still uncertain, even if the fates hadn't already given him an answer that it would have been likely he'd have died in the battle anyway.

It's the knowing that is killing me.

Realizing that the nights full of sleep were behind him, Harry stood and made his way towards the shower. He turned it on and twisted the nob the furthest to the left that it went. He felt the heat of the water before he dipped his body under it. As he immersed himself, the water scalded him and he was painfully aware of the redness of his skin.

This is what I need. I need to do one thing a day that reminds me I'm alive, even if it's something as small as burning my skin in the shower.

As his body adapted to the heat of the water and stopped hurting, he decided that it hadn't been enough of a reminder. He opened his eyes and scanned the bathroom, making sure he was alone before he gently started stroking himself.

He shifted himself so that the scalding water ran over his member, adding to the pleasure of his hand. His hand squeezed tighter around his now full erection and he sped up the pace of his pumping, now distracted with the images of anonymous faced men trouncing around in his mind.

He'd only found out last year that there was no real definite restrictions on sexual attraction in the wizarding world. Since that discovery he'd thought more freely, and more often, about men while masturbating than about women. Having never been attracted to a particular man, though, he left the face blank as he imagined them pounding into him.

As his thoughts gradually become more and more explicit, and he felt himself starting to cum, a burning pain shot through his heads. His body seized slightly as he continued coming and a strangled sound between a moan and a scream shot out of his throat. Falling to the floor of the shower, he gripped his head as the pain continued and did all he could not to scream.

Five minutes past before the pain dulled slightly enough for him to be able to stand and, finishing his shower, he headed toward the towel rack.

Fuck.

That was his only thought as he blankly stared at the empty towel rack which, he realized now, was probably refilled daily by the house elves. He sighed and began to shake, hoping that the motion would remove enough of the water that he could slip his clothes on.

With the pain in his head still severe enough to distract him, he walked back into his room and carelessly slipped on a t-shirt and jeans. Grabbing his school robes and absently looking back to be sure Ron was still in bed, Harry headed toward the Great hall. Though he realized it was not yet six o'clock, it was all he could do not to run the entire way. His head pounded so painfully and he felt as though whatever he was looking for was an escape.

Arriving at the large doors, he pushed them open and, at having the entire hall be empty, his shoulder slumped in disappointment. He didn't know what he'd wished had been there but he needed to find an out before he broke down in a pile of screaming pain.

Deciding that, for now, the best solution was to ignore the pain, he turned in means to return to his rooms to look over his class schedule.

"Mr. Potter." The snarl of Snape sounded from down the hall, and sure enough, as he turned his head the billowing robes of his potions professor came into view. "Mr. Potter, I suppose you have an explanation as to why you're up at this hour?"

"Y-yes, actually sir, I do." He breathed in, giving himself a second to steady his voice before he continued, "You see, sir, I was woken up from a terrible vision. I couldn't help it, I tried to resist it, but I couldn't." Harry looked up, and at seeing the weary expression of Snape, something clicked in his mind.

"Sir, are you just getting back?" At this, Snape's face twisted into a look of utter outrage. "Sorry, I just meant… He was asking for you, you see, right before I woke up."

Ignoring Harry's question altogether, his professor, with anger still prominent on his features, simply stared at him for a moment before speaking.

"That does not properly explain why you're wandering the castle at six in the bloody morning, clearly wet and without your proper school robes on, Potter." His name was added at the end with malice but he was suddenly distracted by another shooting pain in his head. His hand darted out to quickly ground himself as the world around him started swaying. He blinked his eyes, trying to steady his vision he looked back towards his potions professor, who it seemed at that moment could not be any angrier. Harry realized why a moment later as his eyes travelled down his arm to see that what he had gripped onto for balance was none other than the scornful man.

"When I woke I couldn't get back to sleep, so I took a shower, but there were no towels, so I dressed myself while I was still wet. I can't really explain the rest, sir, sorry. I'm a bit out of sorts, you see, because I've got a terrible headache." With that he ended his speech, realizing that anything else that was true would only further anger his professor.

When he looked up again he was surprised to see that the anger highlighting Snape's features had dimmed considerably and a lot of it had been replaced with what could only be described as worry.

"15 points from Gryffindor, Potter, for wandering the halls at an inappropriate hour, and another five, for not being properly dressed." Though the point in the words was to upset Harry, he couldn't find it in himself to react properly. He would likely not even be there when the cup was awarded to one of the houses, so the point loss was futile. He silently decided not to say his thoughts aloud, though, in fear he'd be doled a worse punishment. "Follow me." The command interrupted his train of thoughts and he shuffled to catch up with his already departing professor.

Before long they had arrived at their destination; the dark, damp potions classroom he was all too familiar with. As he entered the room behind Snape, the man quickly disappeared into one of the many locked storage closets. Harry had barely a chance to sit down, though, before the man was approaching once more, this time with a vial in his hand.

"Drink this." As he said the words, his professor all but thrust the vial into Harry's hand.

"But, sir, what is it?"

"It will help with your headache. How often do you have these visions, Mr. Potter?" As his professor continued speaking, he pulled the cork out of the vial and downed the sticky substance, cringing as the bitter taste hit his senses.

"Not sure. A lot. Usually not this bad, though." His voice, though calm, had an edge of exhaustion that he had not intended.

"Well then it seems we're more in need of you to learn occlumency than I'd thought. We should get started immediately, really, but as now may not be the best time, how does after dinner sound?" Harry wanted to protest, feeling the tiredness his pain had caused him even as it was dwindling to nothing. Instead, though, he nodded, realizing the sooner he learned the sooner he'd be able to avoid this pain. "You may go, then."

At his dismissal, Harry headed out the damp dungeon and back up to his room. It was only once he arrived and looked over his class schedule that he realized potions was first every single day.

I just can't catch a break.

XXX

"You know you'll never be able to eat all of that, Harry!" Harry glared at his friend's decidedly pointless comment.

"I'm hungry." Even as he said it he knew it wasn't true and that Hermione would be proven right when most of the food went to waist. But he wanted to eat as much as he could so that he'd have the energy to face Snape again even after a day filled with the man.

Though, admittedly, the day had gone quite smoothly, the exhaustion Harry felt was enough that he thought if he relaxed, even for a moment, he'd pass out. The tiredness was likely coming from all the anxiety he was suppressing, but with no other options but to supress, he was left feeling desperate.

He wasn't sure how long he sat, staring blankly at his plate full of food, but when he looked up Ron was nearly done. He hastily looked up to where his professor sat and, when he realized the man was no longer there, he stood.

"Harry, you haven't even touched your food!" The worry in Hermione's voice almost over rid the tone of 'know-it-all', but not quite.

"Change of plans, I've got occlumeny. Right now. I'll see you guys afterward." With the excuse out of his mouth, Harry nearly dashed out of the Great Hall which, by now, was only about half full.

By the time he'd reached the potions classroom, the unease in his stomach had risen up to his throat. He knocked unevenly, nervous that he'd have to deal with an angry Snape for the second time in the day.

When the door was opened a feeling of relief washed over Harry as he looked into the calm black eyes.

"Professor, sorry if I'm late, I ate a little slower today." He knew his reason had been accepted when the potions professor simply turned and walked away, leaving the door open for Harry to follow.

"Alright, Potter, you know the drill. Clear your mind, and ready yourself for my attack." Snape turned to look once more into Harry's eyes and, not waiting for a response, whispered 'legilimens".

He could instantly feel the pain of his professor invading his mind, and, closing his eyes, he tried desperately to push the man out.

Sirius promising Harry a home. Sirius falling into the veil. Remus mourning. Voldemort torturing a muggleborn. Voldemort killing Cedrick. Embracing Hermione.

He could feel his professor leave his mind but as to whether or not he'd pushed him out, he was unsure. He was unsure of many things, for example why did it feel like his face was pressed up against stone? And why was Snape sideways?

He could feel himself going in and out of consciousness, unaware of anything going on around him until he felt the cool glass of a vial against his lips and two warm fingers stroking his throat as to help him swallow, which he did so successfully.

Minutes past and as he became aware of his surroundings, he sat up in a panic.

"Sir, everything blurry?" In response to his confused question, his professor handed him his glasses, which he was only just realizing weren't on his face. As he slipped them on everything came clearly into view, including the irritated yet concerned face of his professor.

"That will be all for today, Potter." The usual malevolence was missing from the man's voice as he stood up from his crouching position beside Harry. Harry slowly stood up; looking into the eyes of his professor he ignored the dismissal.

"The reason I couldn't do it was because of what Dumbledore has told me, sir. I have no one to talk to and it's a lot to take in. You are the only other person that knows the truth, professor. Maybe if you'd be willing to talk to me a little about it, I'd be more successful with the occlumency?" He knew the suggestion was a long shot but the desperation clawing its way through his soul wasn't giving him much choice.

"Just because I know of the predicament of your fate, Potter does not mean I care about it. Do not use that as an excuse for your lack of skill." Though the words were hurtful, Harry couldn't help but want to keep pleading, and it felt odd he so painfully wanted to 'chat' with this hateful man.

"It's not just because you know, though, sir. You must understand where I'm coming from, having been a spy for so long. I feel like my whole life has been controlled by an evil puppet master, and the whole time he's just been bringing me to the moment where I have to fail to do what my whole life has been based around. You must know what it feels like to be controlled, must be able to relate to feeling unfulfilled?" He knew he sounded pathetic, standing there, desperately trying to relate the two situations so that he could console in someone.

"There is no similarity in our situations, Potter, other than the sad fact the Voldemort is the ultimate cause of our unhappiness. But if that's the requirement to be able to relate to you I can think of a long list of people that feel the same way." The hatred written all over the man's face as he spoke Harry knew was directed at him and he sighed, trying once more with a soft-

"But, sir-"

"We may both have given up our lives to help defeat the Dark Lord, but the difference is I may have a chance to live once he's gone. Therefore, Mr. Potter, my desperation to find solace is not level enough to yours for me to be seeking comfort with a person I so much dislike. You're not so special, Potter; remember that you're one of very many people that will have to give up their lives to defeat the Dark Lord."

The words reflected painfully true in his ears and he nodded sadly, the flash of hurt lasting long enough on for his potion professor's face to contort into an emotion he did not recognize. His eyes fell to the ground and before anything else could be said he turned and fled, wanting to get away so badly that he didn't care whether or not he'd get a detention.

He had no idea where his legs were carrying him, only that he had to escape. He distantly acknowledged the cold air of outside as he continued running away. He had to get away, had to escape.

Let me escape this reality.

XXX

Hope you guys enjoyed the new chapter; will be updating again soon.

Please read and review

P.S. I know this chapter has a lot of Snape it in but not to fret, I will be expanding on other character's and relationships in the next couple of chapters!