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FIRST AID HEALING: 7TH YEARS ONLY. 4 HOUR WORKSHOP.

Instructor: Severus Snape.

"Snape?" a seventh year muttered to his friend. "Why not Pomfrey? I can't believe we're not getting Pomfrey!"

"POMFREY is busy!" Hermione practically pushed them aside to sign up. "And it's a workshop—it's optional. You don't have to go." The seventh years looked at them reproachfully but signed up anyways. Harry, who knew Snape's schedule, personally felt like he was too busy to be running a Friday workshop too.

"COMING THROUGH," Ginny demanded to her fellow 7th years, signing up next. "Dueling club is excellent. I'll take all the Snape I can get." The students in her year looked at her like she was mad.

"Yeah, you're brilliant at dueling, Gin. Real natural."

She smiled. "Thank you, Harry. Besides, I need something to get my mind off Quidditch. You've never seen a worse team, Harry. Wood is embarrassed for me."

"Shame you don't have any younger brothers."

"OH," her grin got wider and she pushed Harry's nose with her index finger. "There's a surprise for you on Friday," and she walked off. He wrinkled his nose, feeling rather violated by the nose pushing, and looked at Hermione for answers.

"What does she mean, a surprise?"

"I don't know, Harry." If that was a poker face, it was an excellent one.

Slughorn and Harry had a mutual understanding all year: he would be 'The Boy Who Lived' and Slughorn would drop all expectation in Harry's potion making abilities. He continued to do passable work, trying a little harder lately not to shame the person he was snogging. Thankfully, Ginny, Hermione, Draco, and Pansy all were making dazzling potions this year, allowing Harry to fade into the background while others received his relentless intense burning praise. Even Luna's acceptable potions got swooned over by Slughorn, delighted by her whimsical habit of adding extra complimentary ingredients. "Lemon peel? Ho, ho! You MUST tell me your inspiration!"

Whenever he made his rounds, it would be superfluous flattery for Ginny and Hermione's work, and when he got to Harry's potion, he would ignore it outright and prattle on about the next twenty people Harry had to meet.

"Oh, and what about Mr. Westly? Where has he been hiding?" Slughorn watched Harry stir his watery potion that was supposed to be mud-thick by now.

"Beg your pardon?"

"Westly—your friend, Westly! I have sent him no less than 12 invitations: at his house and at the Ministry, and he has yet to come to a single party…" Slughorn shook his head in fake sadness.

"OH, Ron! Well… he's been busy. You know, Auror, and everything." Ginny and Hermione gave him a look for lying.

"Miss Weasley, you know Mr. Westly, don't you?"

"I sure hope so," Ginny said.

"If I give you an invitation, would you make sure he receives it?"

She smiled toothily. "I will, Professor."

"Thank you, Miss Weasley," and he materialized a rolled parchment invitation and handed it to her.

"Oh, and Harry…"

"Yes?"

"High flame for ten minutes. Add Arrowroot," he winked. "It weakens the potion but will save it."

"Right, Professor… thanks."

"Harry," Ginny almost sang, pulling out the parchment from her bag at the end of class. "You've got to see this. You're going to LOVE it."

Harry took Slughorn's Invitation for 'Mr. Westly' and unrolled it. "Oh no…" he groaned. The party was being advertised 'with Harry Potter' like he was the main attraction. This made him not want to go at all, but he still owed Draco for the little stunt he pulled with the wand ownership in front of witnesses.

"Busy couple of weeks," he mumbled to Hermione on their way to the next class. "First- 'First Aid Healing' with Snape on Friday. Slughorn's Party on Saturday, and next weekend is a Hogsmeade weekend."

"It's so close to our C.H.A.R.M.S. too, why don't we skip Hogsmeade and study?"

"I haven't made up my mind go, may stay in."

"Why is everyone running?" Hermione perked her head up, noticing a group of fifth years pass. This was not mere running with friends, they were running to something. They noticed Luna up ahead.

"Why is everyone running?"

"Ohhhh, it's awful! Hagrid's entire fourth year class is being taken to the hospital wing. They were making their way up to the castle and just started… falling over."

"WHAT!?" Harry and Hermione both yelled.

"News just got out, I think the students all going down to see. They're floating them in now."

"The entire class?" Hermione raised her voice in panic.

"My house—Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuffs. All students except two."

While Hermione looked fearful, Harry had an odd thought wash over him. The thought creeped in and took root, an inappropriate one, but it refused to leave his mind once it settled. Students usually got sick after they went outside, coming to and from the grounds. And now Hagrid's enitre class. What if… what if... Hagrid was behind the students getting sick? Fluffy, Norbert, Aragog, Grawp… what if he obtained some new poisonous or dangerous creature or…

"Thank goodness they don't have O.W.L.s this year," Hermione moaned. "I would feel more worried, but Ginny got out of it okay. We can hope…"

Instead of fighting the crowd, they waited in the library for it to die down. The three of them tried to study in the library, Harry, Hermione, and Luna, but it was hard to concentrate. No one joined them today, peering up for Ginny or any other familiar face to give them news. When everyone else was at dinner, they finally descended to the hospital wing to have a look. But when they got to the doors, the doors opened from the other side, Snape coming out, distracted, and didn't even notice them.

Worried. Snape looked worried.

"Sir—"

His face instantly morphed into anger at the sight of them.

"Sir, is it bad?" Harry asked, not wanting to pretend they hated each other in this moment.

"Don't you have better things to do than bothering these students?"

"You should know I like putting my nose where it doesn't belong," Harry quipped angrily.

Snape narrowed his eyes. "They are ill… and will recover like the rest. Don't bother these students. And don't let me catch you after curfew." He swept away in a storm. Harry watched him leave. Through his anger he felt the familiar sobering, pulling him out of himself. Seeing Snape visually worried rang alarm bells like nothing else could.

They pushed open the door. Every bed was full.

Students lay there, lined up, still in their cloaks—their bodies illuminated by the twilight. None of them stirred.

"Oh noooo," Hermione moaned. Luna let out a sigh. Harry stared, unwilling to believe it.

Harry couldn't stop thinking about it: the unconscious students lined up, Snape's worried face. When did Snape ever look worried? And the thought of Ginny's body in the hospital wing earlier in the year kept flashing back, her near-purple face. He skipped dinner that night and paced around, thinking, trying to put the pieces together. The thought of Hagrid kept coming back to him, demanding to be taken seriously. Meeting back up with Hermione in the common room, he motioned for her to join him for a private word. He had to ask, to go down this road with her, even if it was an uncomfortable one. Wasn't it an option worth exploring? What if he was correct and they didn't say anything?

"Hermione… if I share something with you, can we talk about it? I have a theory, a poor one, and I need to run it by you. Even if it's false. Even if it's farfetched."

"You do? About the students? Well, let's hear it then!"

"…Hagrid. You don't think… you don't think it's… Hagrid, do you? Some poisonous creature he just… happened to obtain? Something he got from the forest or… tried to save last year?"

Her eyes glazed over and absorbed his words. "Maybe Harry, but I don't think so. I've seen Hagrid more than you have this year, and he hasn't mentioned any new 'pet.' Besides, do you know what the fourth year's lesson was today?"

"What?"

"Hippogriffs."

"Hippogriffs?"

"Yes, Harry, Hippogriffs. He brought the lesson back. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were so respectful, they ALL got to ride on them today, one by one, all but the two students that didn't get sick. They didn't get bows. The rest of the students got to fly all around the castle, high enough to circle the broken towers. They fell ill by the hour and collapsed. I'm sure McGonagall knows by now. The castle is leaking powerful defensive magic—that's why Snape's upset. He must know the castle needs fixed up and fast. Heard he had a row today with Slughorn about not helping. So... I don't think it's Hagrid at all."

Harry let out a sigh he didn't realize he was holding. It wasn't fair to jump to Hagrid after the Chamber of Secrets, but he he felt like he had no choice to turn over the stone. Hermione's doubt gave him immense relief.

"Thank you, Hermione, I didn't… I didn't want to, but I couldn't stop thinking about it."

"I know, Harry. It's scary, isn't it?"

On Thursday, Snape met him at the door and kissed him only once, looking like he had many things on his mind.

"I have work to do. Tonight, you will complete your matured potion, a quick chat, and then… I have to leave. Would this be acceptable?"

Harry looked at him. He looked even worse than he did in class all week, which was terrible. "Are the students going to be alright?"

"They'll survive," Snape said as he held open the door to his private chambers.

Harry put his bag down and opened the tattered reference book, starting again on the Lung Preserver—adding things, giving furtive glances at Snape looking exhausted but contemplative. Harry desperately wanted to ask about the castle, the condition of the students, and what the staff was doing about it. But felt like… he just shouldn't.

Snape worked on his own potion in complete silence on the other side of the counter. For the next hour the only sounds were of bubbling, chops, stirs, and clanks. Snape worked artfully and automatically, mind on other things. And this was peaceful, Harry secretly thought. If he could come home after work and just sit in this silence with him, that would be okay. At the end of the hour, Snape didn't even bother inspecting the potion Harry bottled, he just wrapped it up for him to take, made tea, and led Harry to the couch.

But as Harry sat pouring tea for them, Snape did not sit down. He found him staring, hands clasped together, waiting… steeling himself.

"What's up?" Harry asked, now very concerned.

"You asked me about the other Enigma Magic Dumbledore has shown me," Snape screwed up his face, readying himself. "I do know some additional… sacrificial… 'love magic.' I am telling you this only to answer your question. I will not teach it to you."

"What?" Harry lowered his tea cup.

"You are about to enter the employ of the Ministry. You are going on, no doubt, dangerous missions, and I don't want you wasting that on any of your colleagues."

"But—"

"The answer is no."

"Why? It wouldn't hurt just to learn the concept. I don't have to—"

"POTTER, you have asked, and I have answered. I say NO—not this."

Harry was beginning to feel misunderstood. And that made him feel annoyed, if not a little angry. What makes Snape think he would just throw his life away for anybody? But…on the other hand… if he had any advantage to keep his team safe…

"Trying to keep me alive?" Harry smiled, eyes brightening.

Snape's retort seemed caught in his throat. "I am merely… stopping you… from doing anything rash and regrettable."

"I'll take it." Harry went back to his tea. Snape, who was poised for an argument, seemed taken aback by the abrupt finish.

"Sacrificial Enigma Magic… I'll ask Hermione."

"She will not find it in a book."

Harry laughed, betting she absolutely could. Snape sat down on the other side of the couch looking uneasy. "That's it? That's the only other Enigma Spell you know?"

"Ohhhhh, I know others…" Snape said loftily. "Many others. More the Dark Lord's taste."

"Oh," Harry's eyes glazed over, thinking.

"There is Enigma Magic on both sides."

"Yeah, that makes sense."

Snape forgot to drink his tea, still deep in thought looking completely lost. Harry's thoughts drifted again towards the sick students, wondering if he could ask questions about the staff's theories and the row he had with Slughorn. Or if he should leave to let him think and work. But while they were on Enigma Magic, Harry had an opening.

"So… so I think I'm going to do the orb thing with Hermione. Does that bother you?"

"No. Why would it bother me?" and he didn't sound bothered.

"Thought I'd ask, just in case. Is there… anything else I should know about the orb stuff before I do it? Some other function or… side effect?"

"No."

And Harry felt the lie. "Can you run through the steps for me again? …Or should we do this another night?"

Snape looked at him, exhausted like he hadn't slept in days, and Harry knew for a fact that he should leave. But something behind the eyes rallied and the gaze did not break. He shuffled closer to him and started to whisper a lecture. Even in this state he had time for him.

"The orbs are deceiving." Delicate fingers held Harry's wand arm, directing it. "Again—the light you pull from another person does not belong to them, it belongs to you. You cannot pull someone's embodiment from them, you are always, always, drawing the magic from yourself. Do it."

With his wand tip to Snape's chest, Harry thought about his loved ones, his friends, and all of the Weasley's this time, including Ron. The light glowed and separated from Snape, purple and murky as ever. If he was still disappointed by its color, he made no mention. "Now, pull it from yourself, you should be able to do it now." Harry put the light back and turned the wand on himself.

He tried to summon the good feelings about himself, but when he searched for all these memories and good things… flashes of bad memories swam to him, muddying the waters. Opening his eyes again, he saw the scrunched-up insult on Snape's face that he was desperately holding in.

"Go on," Harry said.

"Are you really this far gone?"

"I… I don't…."

"Try again. Or would you like some space?"

"No, I… YES! Yes, I would," Harry exclaimed, changing his mind. "Yes. Silence. Leave me alone. Let me try for… twenty minutes."

"20 Minutes?" Snape scoffed, but he was already scooting away, a book flying to him and opening.

Now that Snape was ignoring him, Harry was now unfortunately alone with his thoughts. Lupin's body came rushing back to him, waiting for him to close his eyes. He tried to think of his eighth year study group, but all he could picture was Pansy's sour face and upturned nose. Draco punching him. No, Hermione… he had to think of Hermione... and… Mrs. Weasley and…"

"Am I allowed to say anything?"

"NO."

"Close your mind," Snape reminded him anyway. "This isn't about other people. This is about you."

He knew what he meant, but it didn't make it any easier. Thinking back on the past year, all he remembered was disappointing people, disappointing McGonagall, his own house-elf kicking him out, Ginny's pained rejected face. He cringed, remembering how badly he hurt her. Mrs. Weasley, thin and crying and… Ron's furious face in Hogsmeade and…

George.

George is always happy to see you.

Hermione desperately missed you. Tears welled up in his eyes and he wanted to stop. When? When did he do anything good this year? The Room of Requirement opened for you, and only you. Neville is always happy to see you, Luna too. McGonagall almost hugged you at Slughorn's Party…

He didn't want to think about it, but he had to. The trials… he kept Narcissa out of Azkaban, didn't he? And maybe Snape… and….

No, don't go there...

Spells were flying, people were yelling, bodies were falling…

He was in the headmaster's office. He decided he must do it- there was no other way. In the forest, he held the stone, seeing them all. The green light, waking up, and everything was white... and he was back! Hagrid crying—the guttural howl of the man he loved while he held his lifeless body. McGonagall's voice breaking when she saw his body. Running—more confusion, more spells flying from everywhere, and they were circling each other. The sun rose and he pointed his wand to Voldemort, knowing what would happen. That it was over—finally over, and he had WON. Victorious.

Harry looked down. The bright beautiful orb hanging in front of him.

"That. Give that to Granger. And she will always find you."

"Why… why was that so hard?" Harry asked, gasping, wiping at his face.

Snape closed the book he wasn't reading. "It is a tall order to feel good about ourselves. Many wizards find it difficult, although necessary."

Harry stared at his orb, bright, shining, and completely white. "I'm proud of myself, I really am," he was cracking, not wanting to cry, and definitely not in front of Snape, "but… I… I don't feel like I have the right to be."

"I know."

Instead of crying, he wiped his eyes and put the light back in his chest. "That's it? I just give it to her? I have to push it in?"

"Yes."

"What if her body rejects it?"

"It won't."

Harry sighed, taking a deep breath and rallied. "Okay, I think I'm ready. I'll just have to make sure she can do it, and then we won't tell Ron."

Snape laughed darkly.

"What? He has the Deluminator—he doesn't need it." He gave a deep breath and readjusted. "So, run through the steps for me one more time, just so I know I've got it."

Pulling out his own wand, Snape went quiet long enough to pull out his light orb to demonstrate. When he did it, it was a rather grey dull misty color, still glowing, not purple or dark at all. "When it emerges, rest your hand on it—you will be able to touch yours." Snape pressed on his own, to demonstrate they had some give—they could be moved. "Pull the light out with the wand, push it into her chest with your hand. It must be done with the flesh. She will accept it."

"Right, and then… when she casts her Patronus and it finds me, she can just... follow it? Just like that? How?"

"She will know. The light will appear, just as it is. She will walk into it, feel it, and she will arrive where her Patronus is.

"That's… that's really useful magic."

"Yes, it is," he agreed, and with a forceful hand, Snape pushed his orb directly into Harry's chest.

Harry gasped.

Something was rushing over him… cold, then warm... and it settled.

"Now…" Snape said wearily, "you can cast your Patronus to reach me, no matter where I am. I won't ask you to do the same. But now you can find me… if you need me."

Harry stared open mouthed. Panic and anger trickled in, soon becoming a wave.

Huge violation.

He did not want this, he did not ask for it. Harry was so upset he couldn't even speak. He looked away, trying to control his anger, unsure of how to respond. But you didn't give anything. Is it a violation if you didn't have to give anything back?

"So… so…" he tried to stay calm, "I can just… cast a Patronus and I can follow the light that presents itself?"

Snape nodded.

"Does it do anything else?"

Snape didn't answer.

"Like what?"

"I don't know. It was Dumbledore's magic."

Harry frowned. They both sat there awkwardly. Harry didn't love him. He didn't. And now he just got Snape's light, or whatever. AND he was being vague about it.

"You shouldn't have done that," Harry whispered fiercely.

"I know."

Potions bubbled in the background filling the silence. But something else was wrong. Although Snape managed to knock over yet another major boundary, all Harry could think of was maybe giving his back too. He said he was going to, and did not want Hermione to retrieve his dead body when he eventually got killed at work. You're not going to live until thirty. Just give it to him. He'll outlive you, easy. He'll get it—he'll bring it back, so the Weasley's don't have to wonder if you're dead or alive.

"I can't believe you just did that," Harry said, swallowing, still unable to process the breach.

"Yes. You can."

"What the hell are you doing to me?" Harry crumpled, head in his hands, unable to look at him. "I didn't ask for this."

"Would have saved some time, wouldn't it?"

Running his hands through his hair, he relived the orb getting shoved into him over and over, replaying it in his mind, unable to do anything to stop it.

"That was a shit thing to do. We should have discussed it. I wasn't ready."

"You don't have to give up anything. That's the point."

"That doesn't MATTER!" Harry yelled, forcing eye contact with him. "You just can't DO THINGS like that!"

But Snape was already standing up, summoning his cloak.

"And now you're just going to LEAVE!? Unbelievable!"

"I told you I didn't have time tonight. It's a tool, Potter. Be angry if you must, but use it if you need it," and he walked out and into the classroom. Harry stormed out, following him. Snape didn't even give him a last look as he left and continued down the hallway, heading up to another tower. Harry stood alone, completely dumbfounded and outraged in front of the classroom door.