CHAPTER - 11

Contrast to the dungeons, the Gryffindor Common Room was bright as ever in sunlight. Harry thought if he should sleep for a while. But seeing that he had many things to do, he took a quick shower to wake himself up and got ready for the day.

He had completed all his summer assignments and was confident that he had done good in them. He was also in the process of going through the textbooks for the next term and had seen the curriculum and marked the places which he knew he would need to focus on more.

He decided to go to the library and study more on horcruxes and see if he could find where all of them were kept.

After downing down a cup of coffee, Harry went to the library and took his seat at the back. He opened the book and took out the crumpled parchment where all the horcruxes were written.

He knew he was running himself ragged. No sleep, he was frequently missing meals, and now that he was physically training himself, he knew he needed the energy.

But he thought the work he was doing was more important. For him, for the wizarding world, and for Elle. The girl had won his heart in just a few weeks. Even though she was Snape's daughter, she was very different. She was the picture of innocence that kept Harry grounded and going.

He smiled as he took out a small picture Elle had drawn for him. It was a stick figure of him and her flying on their brooms and zooming past Hogwarts.

He looked at it from time to time and felt happy. A feeling he now thought of as very costly.

He stuffed the drawing back into his bag before focusing on the work at hand. But his mind was distracted. He knew he had to write to Ron and Hermione too. They must be worried.

With a soft groan, he proceeded to take out his quill and parchment and wrote two letters for them.

Dear Ron,

Sorry I haven't written all summer, mate. Things have been... a bit rough since Sirius. I miss him so much—it feels like there's this giant hole, and I don't really know how to fill it.

I promise I'm doing better now, though. The Dursleys have been their usual delightful selves—well, delightful forthem, which means they've mostly left me alone. That's about as close to a holiday as I get around here.

Oddly enough, Dudley's been acting a bit different lately. Almost... civil. It's weird, Ron. Like he's trying to grow a conscience or something. Honestly, it's unnerving—I keep expecting him to revert back to his old self any day now.

How's your summer been? I hope everyone's doing well. Say hi to your mum, dad, and the rest of the lot for me. Oh, and tell Fred and George to save some of their new inventions for me—I've got a feeling I'll need a good laugh this term.

Can't wait to see you back at school. It'll be good to have something normal again.

Your best mate,

Harry

He sighed as he finished the letter. It wasn't much, but it would do for Ron. It was Hermione's that he had to write cleverly. The girl picked up on all small clues.

Dear Hermoine,

How are you? Before you hit me with one of yourmanyslippers, I want to apologise for not writing all summer. I know I should've, but it wasn't safe—not for me and definitely not for you.

To be honest, I wasn't doing great after...everything at the Ministry. I miss him so much, Hermione. He was the closest thing I had to family, and now he's gone too. It feels like every time I get close to someone, they're taken away.

It hurts—more than I can put into words—but I'm getting through it. I think it'll be easier once I'm back at Hogwarts with you and Ron. You both have a way of making things feel a bit less heavy, even when the world's falling apart.

I hope everything at home is alright. How are your parents? Give them my regards.

I miss you and can't wait to see you soon. Things always feel better when we're together.

Yours,

Harry

Satisfied, Harry folded the letters and tucked them into his bag, determined to send them off later today. He hesitated for a moment before pulling out another sheet of parchment. His hand hovered over the blank page as he gathered his thoughts. After a deep breath, he began to write a letter to Remus.

Dear Moony,

I hope this letter finds you as well as anyone can be, considering everything. I've been struggling to find the right words, and I suppose that's why it's taken me so long to write. Sirius' death has left a gaping hole in my life, and I know you must feel the same—if not worse. He wasn't just my godfather; he was your brother, your family.

I keep replaying that night at the Department of Mysteries over and over, wondering if there was something I could've done differently, something to save him. The guilt is... heavy.

But I want you to know I'm trying, Remus. I'm doing everything I can to prepare myself—to be stronger, smarter, better equipped for what's coming. I want to make you proud, and more importantly, I don't want to lose anyone else.

Please write back when you can. I want to know how you're doing. We'll get through this, somehow. We have to—for Sirius, for everyone we've lost, and for everyone who still needs us.

Take care of yourself, and remember, you're not alone.

Yours,
Harry

As Harry set down his quill, a heavy weight settled in his chest. He stared at the letter for a moment before folding it carefully and adding it to the others.

He was just about to return to his reading when Fizzby appeared with a loud pop.

"Oh, dear Merlin!" Harry exclaimed, clutching his chest as his heart raced.

"Apologies, Mister Potter," Fizzby said with a sheepish smile and a bow. "Master Snape has requested your presence in his quarters for lunch."

Harry blinked in surprise. "Yeah, alright. Thanks, Fizzby."

With a nod, the elf disappeared as quickly as he'd come.

Glancing at his watch, Harry noted he still had about forty-five minutes before noon. He sighed, bringing his Dark Arts book closer and flipping to the page he'd left off on. His head throbbed faintly, and a dull ache spread through his body, but he ignored it, focusing instead on the text in front of him.

/

Elle looked much better than she had the previous night, Harry noticed as he stepped into Snape's quarters. To his surprise—and slight amusement—Snape owned a TV, currently playingBeauty and the Beast.

"Good afternoon, Professor. Elle," Harry greeted, eyeing the little girl sprawled on the sofa, her back propped up by cushions. Snape sat beside her, rubbing a foul-smelling paste onto her chest with methodical precision.

"Potter," Snape drawled without looking up. "Do come in."

Elle broke into a coughing fit, and Snape swiftly held a small bowl in front of her to catch the phlegm. She grimaced as he wiped her face with a gentleness Harry had never thought Snape capable of.

"There," Snape said, tucking the blanket snugly around her. "All done." Without another word, he disappeared into the washroom to wash his hands.

"How are you feeling, Elle?" Harry asked as he dropped into the armchair.

The girl barely glanced at him, her attention fixed on the animated film, but she eventually turned to respond. "Better," she said softly, wrinkling her nose. "Daddy keeps putting this yucky paste on me."

"It might be, but it's clearing out your chest," Snape called from the corridor, his tone brooking no argument. Elle muttered something under her breath, earning a raised eyebrow from Harry.

"Potter, come," Snape commanded as he re-entered, gesturing toward the kitchen.

Harry gave Elle a small smile before following the man. He took his usual seat at the kitchen table as Snape sat across from him, folding his arms and scrutinizing Harry with his signature piercing gaze.

"You look like a hippogriff trampled you, Potter," Snape remarked dryly.

Harry instinctively straightened, smoothing his hair and adjusting his robes.

"I meant your face," Snape clarified, rolling his eyes. "You've barely slept, have you?"

"I'm fine," Harry replied, a little too quickly. "Just been doing a lot of reading." He rubbed his eyes for emphasis.

Snape hummed noncommittally, clearly unconvinced, as he waved his wand to summon lunch.

"What did Vol-He want yesterday?" Harry asked, breaking the silence as he took a bite of his food.

"That is none of your concern," Snape said curtly.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "I'm pretty sure it is."

Snape sighed, irritation flashing across his face. "Contrary to your belief, Potter, the Dark Lord has matters to attend to beyond plotting your demise."

Harry snorted. "What a busy bee," he muttered, stabbing a potato with unnecessary force.

Snape glanced toward the living room as Elle began coughing again. He craned his neck slightly, watching her for a moment before relaxing when she settled back into her blanket.

The rest of the meal passed in silence. Harry poked at his food, his mind wandering to the book he'd been reading. He was eager to finish the chapter on Horcruxes—anything that could help Dumbledore, and ultimately himself, was a priority.

"Potter," Snape said abruptly, his tone neutral but commanding. Harry straightened, putting down his fork as Snape's plate vanished.

"Yes, sir?"

Snape hesitated for a moment, clearly uncomfortable. "I would like to extend my gratitude—for last night."

Harry blinked. "It really wasn't a problem, sir," he said, brushing it off.

"You looked after Elle," Snape said, his voice softer than Harry expected. "That is no small feat, Potter."

Harry chuckled lightly. "She was an angel, honestly. I didn't mind at all."

Snape studied him for a moment before leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Tell me, Potter, what have you been doing lately?"

Caught off guard, Harry cleared his throat. "Not much," he said carefully, avoiding mention of the Horcruxes. "I've finished my assignments and started preparing for next term. Just... staying focused."

Snape nodded but didn't miss the way Harry left half his plate untouched. He said nothing, though his expression hinted at disapproval.

"Tomorrow morning at eight, meet me on the grounds," Snape instructed as he stood, signaling the end of their lunch.

Harry frowned. "For what?"

"Training, Potter. Have you forgotten already?"

Harry grabbed his bag, glancing toward Elle, who had fallen asleep on the sofa. Snape was turning off the TV, his movements quiet and deliberate.

"Should I study anything beforehand?" Harry asked cautiously.

Snape's lips curled into a smirk. "No, Potter."

For some reason, that smirk filled Harry with dread.

/

Harry sighed as he closed the Gryffindor portrait behind him. He took off his invisibility cloak and made his way towards the Dormitory. He threw the cloak on the bed and locked the door before shakily putting his hand in the back pocket of his jeans and taking out the new box of cigarettes he had procured just now.

It was 1 AM in the morning and Harry had gone and completed his errand in half an hour. He sighed as he took a seat on his window seat, anti-smell wards already up, and smoked.

As the first drag hit him, he closed his eyes. He wasn't able to smoke in the past 2 days due to all the fiasco, but now, he felt lighter. He watched as his hands stopped shaking as he puffed out the air and smiled a little.

He reflected on his past few days of holidays. It hadn't been bad at all. His all-time enemy professor had a freaking daughter to whom Harry had gotten attached. Snape was being…normal? He wasn't yelling at Harry at every turn. Sure, Harry still felt the tension sometimes. The animosity of 5 whole years wasn't that easy to dissipate, but there was some mutual respect.

And Elle? That girl had won Harry's heart. She was so different than Snape. She made him feel wanted, loved and belonged. Harry loved spending time with her. His heart warmed every time she called for him or hugged him. He was needed. Almost for the first time in his life did he felt like that.

He watched sadly as his cigarette neared the butt and took the last puff, inhaling it as much as he could before putting it out.

His eyes fell on the book given by Dumbledore. He wasn't able to read it properly. A lot was happening and Harry felt angry at himself for not getting the work done. He looked at the lock and it was almost 1:20. He had training with Snape first thing in the morning. Reading till dawn did not sound like a good idea.

He ran a hand through his messy hair and decided to sleep. Nightmares plagued his dreams since the past 3 days and Harry hoped that today maybe he could get at least 4 hours of uninterrupted sleep.

He flicked his wand and turned the light off before closing his eyes. He fell asleep within minutes.

/

At exactly 7:57 AM, Harry made his way down the entrance hall and onto the vast grounds of Hogwarts. He knew he wasn't going to be late; he had been up since 4:30. Thank you, Voldemort.

He walked up to the small clearing beside the Forbidden Forest where he had seen Snape with Elle for the first time. He smiled a little as he heard a soft giggle from behind the trees. Just a second later, he heard a sound that he thought did not exist in this world, a sound he never expected to hear.

It was a soft laughter, more like a rumbling—a deep baritone that echoed through the clearing. Harry stopped in his tracks. It was Severus Snape's laugh.

He softly padded over to a small shelter of trees where he saw Snape carrying Elle and depositing her on a branch of a fallen tree. He watched as the man was careful and held her legs with one hand as the girl reached over her head and started plucking leaves. She dropped a few on Snape's head and laughed as Snape mock glared at her and threatened to leave her to drop.

He stood a few feet away, watching the scene with a small smile. Oh, how he longed for a such care free moments…

He cleared his throat and decided to make his presence known.

"Good morning." He said with a smile as he walked over to the duo. Snape turned around, his hand still holding Elle and nodded in greeting.

"Morning, Potter." He said as Elle squealed out her greeting and threw a few leaves at Harry too. "Elle!" Snape chided her but smirked as Harry tried to brush his hair. "Come on, down you go now."

"Daddy! No!" The girl protested as Snape hauled her and got her down from the tree.

"Mr. Potter and I have some business to tend to." Snape explained her as he took her hand and led them out towards the Quidditch pitch.

Harry followed, confused with the venue. Where was Snape taking them? Flying practice? He snorted inwardly at the ridiculousness of his thoughts. They reached the Pitch and Snape looked at Harry.

"Today, Potter, we focus on agility and tactical movement. The ability to maneuver swiftly and decisively can be crucial in any engagement." He spoke.

Harry nodded. He knew the importance of this training—every lesson could mean the difference between life and death in the upcoming battles against Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

He watched as Snape took Elle's hand and directed her to the Slytherin stands where she would be safe from all the curses. He put a protective shield over her for extra protection before turning on his heels and stalking towards the boy.

"I believe there is no problem in Elle attending this lesson." He looked at Harry pointedly and Harry shook his head.

"Potter, I would have erected a whole obstacle course for you for this training, however, I feel you must learn a few things before we move on to that phase."

Harry simply nodded. Snape took out his wand and gestured for Harry to do the same.

"In the battlefield, Potter, you are not fighting off just one enemy at a time." He said as he walked a little farther off from the boy. "There are many around you. You need to keep your focus on your surroundings instead of just on one person. Today, I shall keep on firing curses at you, and we shall test your focus, agility and in turn your shield."

Harry licked his lips. He knew his shield was foolproof. Hell, he taught this to his DA. But he wasn't sure what kind of curses Snape was going to throw at him. He hesitantly took his position.

"Ready, Potter?" Harry could have sworn he saw a small smirk on Snape's face. But he was too busy concentrating on the man to comment on it.

"Ready, Professor," Harry replied, bracing himself

Snape nodded, his eyes narrowing. "Begin."

In an instant, Snape's wand flicked and a series of curses erupted from its tip. Harry's reflexes kicked in as he raised his wand to cast a Shield Charm. "Protego!" he shouted, feeling the familiar hum of magic as the shield formed around him.

The first curse, a Stinging Hex, bounced off harmlessly. But Snape didn't relent. He fired a Blasting Curse next, followed by a Trip Jinx. Harry had to keep moving, dodging to the side while maintaining his shield. His heart pounded as he tried to anticipate Snape's next move.

"Focus, Potter! Keep your eyes open!" Snape snapped, his voice carrying over the pitch.

Harry darted left, then right, dodging another curse. He noticed Snape's movements were methodical, yet unpredictable. Each spell seemed to come from a different angle, forcing Harry to stay on his toes.

A particularly strong Knockback Jinx hit his shield, causing it to shimmer and waver. Harry's feet slid back a few inches, and he struggled to keep his balance. He adjusted his stance, his mind racing. He needed to stay calm and composed.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Elle watching from the stands, her eyes wide with excitement and concern. The sight gave him an extra boost of determination. He couldn't afford to let his guard down, not with her watching.

Snape's wand flicked again, and this time Harry recognized the incantation for a Disarming Charm. He ducked just in time, feeling the rush of air as the spell missed him by a hair. He rolled to the side, quickly regaining his footing. However, the small 3 second distraction caused him to take a particularly strong Stinging Hex to his right side. He hissed in pain before focusing again.

"Focus, Potter! You need to be faster." Snape said, his tone stern.

Harry nodded, gritting his teeth. He decided to take a more proactive approach. Instead of just defending, he began moving more aggressively, forcing Snape to adjust his aim. He darted forward, then zigzagged to throw off Snape's rhythm.

"Protego!" he cast again, blocking another curse. This time, he followed it up with a quick Stunning Spell aimed at Snape's feet. Snape easily deflected it, but Harry saw a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

"Impressive, Potter. But unnecessarily cocky." Snape acknowledged before throwing a Reducto at a stone near Harry which caused the boy to flinch and lose his balance and focus as small shards hit him.

Harry growled under his breath as a new surge of anger grew within him. Snape wasn't going easy on him, that much was for sure. Harry was being challenged properly for the first time in years. It made him feel good as well as a little offended.

The duel continued, with Snape increasing the pace and intensity of his attacks. Harry's muscles burned with effort, and sweat dripped down his forehead. He dodged, parried, and countered, each move becoming more instinctual.

After what felt like an eternity, Snape fired another strong Stunning Spell and Harry threw himself to his right where he fell down painfully as the spell went past him. Snape finally lowered his wand and looked at the boy sprawled on the pitch.

Harry was panting, his body aching from the exertion. He was bleeding from a few places and his ribs were sore from all the stinging hexes he had taken. He winced as he sat up, his left knee painfully throbbing. He had fell on it thrice and was sure it was bruised.

"That will suffice for today," Snape said, his voice softer now. "There is still much to improve."

Harry nodded, still catching his breath as he sat on the pitch. The git could have said some nicer things, Harry did defend himself fully after all.

Suddenly Elle ran over to them, clapping her little hands. "That was amazing, Harry!" she exclaimed, her face beaming with pride.

Harry smiled at her, feeling a warmth spread through him. "Thanks, Elle."

She frowned as she neared him. "Harry is hurt, dad." She said and her eyebrows furrowed in concern as she looked back at her father who was still standing a few feet away, watching Harry. "You hurt him!"

Harry chuckled as he stood up painfully. "I'm fine, Elle. Nothing a hot shower can't fix. Plus, your dad didn't hurt me, he was training me." He looked at Snape who narrowed his eyes at him. Harry dusted off some mud from his jeans and picked up his wand from the ground.

"Still! You're bleeding." Elle insisted.

"Rest assured Elle, Mr. Potter would find a bruise salve and other potions ready for him when he goes to his Common Room." Snape interrupted as he suddenly made his presence known while walking towards them.

"Any comments, sir?" Harry asked him curiously. He needed the feedback. He needed to know where he lacked and he knew Snape was the best person who could tell him that. If there was anyone who could ruthlessly dissect his performance—and enjoy doing so—it was Snape. The man could probably make a fortune charging people for critiques and still refuse payment, relishing the task far too much to care about monetary reward.

Snape gave him a slightly intriguing look as he gestured him to follow. Harry groaned a little as he had to limp to keep up with the man. He smiled softly at Elle who took his hand in an effort to help him.

"You are reckless, Potter," Snape began, each word precise and cutting. "Your approach lacks discipline, and you rely far too much on instinct and sheer luck. While that may work for now, against an opponent like the Dark Lord, luck will abandon you the moment it is most critical."

Harry flinched slightly but nodded, absorbing the critique. He'd expected no less.

"Your spellwork, while competent, is sloppy under pressure," Snape continued, his voice as sharp as a blade. "You hesitate at crucial moments, and hesitation in a duel is a death sentence."

Harry frowned, resisting the urge to argue. He bit back a retort, knowing Snape would only pounce on any defensiveness as further proof of his immaturity.

"However," Snape added, his tone softer but no less severe, "you are not entirely hopeless."

Harry blinked. Was that... a compliment?

"You show remarkable adaptability, a trait that will serve you well. Your ability to think on your feet is commendable, though it borders on recklessness. If you learn to channel that adaptability into calculated strategy, you may yet stand a chance."

Harry panted lightly, his legs aching as he limped behind Snape, his hand tightly clutching Elle's small, warm fingers.

"I sent mild curses at you—" Snape's voice trailed off, his words almost scoffing as he glanced over his shoulder. "—they would, however, not be so considerate."

"Sure," Harry muttered, wincing with each step. He wasn't sure if Snape was being serious or just snide. He had learned not to question the professor's eccentricities by now.

"Daddy, are you teaching Harry all this for school?" Elle's innocent question pierced through the tense atmosphere, and Snape froze mid-step.

For a brief moment, Harry caught a glimpse of Snape's vulnerability—his carefully guarded expression faltering as he turned towards Elle. Harry glanced between the two, not knowing exactly what the man was thinking, but sensing there was more to this than just basic training.

"Mr. Potter here has a few tests coming up." Snape's voice was curt, his usual impassive tone slipping into something sharper, more distant. "The Headmaster thought it was best if I prepared him for them."

"Did you pass all these tests, Dad?" Elle's question was full of innocent curiosity as she tugged lightly at her father's sleeve.

"Yes."

"Will you teach me too? When I have to pass them?"

Harry blinked in surprise as Snape froze, almost imperceptibly, before his features smoothed over with practiced ease. A flicker of something softer passed through his eyes before he replied, "Of course, Elle."

Harry watched, his brow furrowing as Snape's small, fleeting smile was hidden beneath his cascade of greasy hair, visible only to the little girl. Harry had seen that rare, vulnerable side of Snape before, but not often, and it felt strange to witness it again.

Before Harry could say anything, Fizzby appeared beside them, looking as if he had been waiting for an excuse to intervene.

"Master Snape, sir, if I may…"

Snape gave a short nod. "Take Elle back to the quarters. I'll be there shortly." He turned back to Harry, his face once again unreadable.

"Bye, Harry!" Elle called brightly, hugging his legs tightly, her little arms wrapping around him. Harry gave her a soft smile and hugged her back, careful not to let the pain in his body show.

"Potter," Snape's voice brought Harry back to reality, his tone more clipped now. "Are you in pain?"

Harry hesitated. He was, of course, but he'd be damned if he admitted that to Snape. He shook his head, offering the professor a forced grin.

"No, sir, I'm fine. Just a little out of breath, that's all."

Snape's sharp eyes swept over him, no doubt catching the way Harry's posture was slightly hunched, the subtle way he held his side.

"Liar," Snape muttered under his breath, pulling his wand out. With a few swift gestures, he cast a diagnostic spell. "You have bruised ribs, a few bleeding cuts, and your knee is far from healthy," Snape said coldly, his eyes narrowing as they landed on Harry's torn and bloodied jeans.

"It's fine, sir." Harry winced slightly but waved it off. "The salve will work."

"Of course it will," Snape replied with thinly veiled sarcasm. "I will send up some additional remedies. Are you well enough to make it upstairs?"

Harry rolled his eyes, his frustration starting to bubble up. "Yes, sir, I'm perfectly fine." He wiped the sweat from his forehead, catching a glimpse of blood on his hand, which he quickly wiped on his jeans before standing straighter.

Snape studied him for a moment, seemingly unconvinced, but didn't press the issue further. Instead, he gestured to the stairs. Harry shifted his weight, leaning against the wall as Snape's piercing gaze remained fixed on him.

"I've been reading up on Defense books," Harry said out of nowhere, his voice steady as he shifted uncomfortably.

"I can see that." Snape's tone was measured, but there was a hint of approval that Harry didn't quite expect. "Some of the spells you used today were certainly not ones taught in school. However, you need to run those by me before attempting them. We don't want you to cast something you don't fully understand."

Harry nodded.

"I'll make sure to do that," He said, straightening up.

Snape's gaze softened just a fraction, though he quickly masked it. "Call for Fizzby if you feel any discomfort. I'll send up a few potions shortly."

"Thanks, Snape," Harry said, a bit more genuinely than he expected, his voice full of reluctant gratitude.

"It's Professor Snape to you, Potter." Snape's voice dropped with an edge of warning as Harry began to make his way toward the stairs.

"Right, Professor," Harry shot over his shoulder with a small grin.

A/N – Hello, dear readers! I'm so glad to be back! Thank you for sticking with me through the slow burn; I promise the pace will pick up soon! I'd love to hear your thoughts on the story so far. If there's a specific scene or moment you're looking forward to, let me know in the reviews! Your feedback means the world. Stay tuned for more!