Harry was running on that final Friday in April, heart pounding in his chest and ears, feet slamming down one after the other upon the stone floor, wanting to put as much distance as possible from Defense Against the Dark Arts and himself as possible. He wasn't hungry, after yet another sparring match with Umbridge, and he could practically feel the blood still dripping from the back of his hand, where five words had carved themselves.

Harry finally made it to the Room of Requirement and got inside, shutting himself in from the outside world, content to remain there in his makeshift bedroom from Grimmauld, as the room had identified it as a safe space for him. Harry climbed onto the bed and dropped his bag beside it, drawing his knees upwards and to his chest, wrapping his arms around them as he did so. He couldn't believe the conversation he'd just had with the pink toad...

"So, according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord?" he'd lashed out, unable to control his temper any longer.

"Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident," the woman had replied. "However, I will not have you spouting lies in my classroom."

"Lies? Lies?!" Harry cried out. "What are you talking about?"

"Let me make this quite plain," she said, making a spectacle of herself then as she moved to address the entire class. "You have been told that a certain Dark Wizard is at last. This...is...a...lie," she said, breaking up the words one by one, almost as if that very action would drive the point home.

Harry immediately shook his head. "It's not a lie! I saw him! I fought him—!"

"Detention, Mr. Potter!" Umbridge shouted, speaking over him as she moved back towards the front of the classroom. "My office, once class is over," she said, and let out a little pathetic squeak of laughter, making Harry's blood boil even further.

Harry angled his hand just so, looking down at the words, which had previously been carved into his skin several months ago, but now were brighter again, due to the fresh blood outlining the words, I must not tell lies. He'd told Sirius and Remus that he would make an effort to keep his head down during class time, but the return of Riddle, as well as the death of Cedric, were equally touchy subjects for him. He leaned back then, head hitting the pillow at the head of the bed as his eyes grew heavy, and fluttered closed.

It was the smell of sandwiches which woke him and, checking his watch, saw that it was nearing eight o'clock at night. Opening his eyes and sitting up, he saw that there was a platter of sandwiches, a jug of pumpkin juice with a glass, a decent-sized packet of crisps, and a generous slice of treacle tart waiting for him on a massive platter beside the bed. Shaking his head and almost immediately knowing that Dobby had been up to this, he nevertheless pulled the little table towards him and tucked into the meal. He knew a Stasis Charm had likely been used upon the food to keep it fresh, and briefly praised the elf for thinking of everything.

Once he'd finished his meal and put a Cleaning Charm upon his hands, the platters and table and everything else disappeared, likely returning to the kitchen to be washed. It suited Harry just fine, as he took out a charms essay which was due Monday, and proceeded to scratch out what was left to be done of his final draft. As he worked, only aware of the fireplace crackling opposite and the scratching sounds his quill made against his parchment, he was completely unaware of the door opening towards his right, his head bent into his work.

"Mr. Potter."

All of the hairs on Harry's body immediately stood at attention at the sound of that velvet-like voice, and he looked up, flushing immediately. "Sir," he said softly.

"You and I are required to touch base on Monday and Friday evenings to discuss how the blocks against the Dark Lord are working within your mind," Severus Snape said, walking closer to him, an impatient look in his onyx eyes. "Am I to assume you forgot this evening, or are so willfully arrogant that you believed it to be unnecessary?"

Harry's eyes, which had gone back onto his essay to complete a thought, immediately snapped to that of the potions master, which caused him to lose his focus, and create a line in the ink that didn't need to be there. "Dammit," he muttered, taking his wand from his pocket and vanishing the ink stain.

"Wait a moment." Severus moved across the room completely then, and Harry looked up as the man stepped towards him. The man bent slightly and took ahold of Harry's hand, and although the younger man was about to protest, he was silenced by the dark glare of the elder. "What have you done to yourself now, Potter?"

Harry promptly yanked his arm back. "Just from detention, doesn't matter," he muttered, just as he begun to gather up his things, content to finish his work in the common room.

Severus took ahold of his wrist then, returning Harry to his previous sitting position, and stared into his eyes. "Detention?" he growled through his teeth. "With whom, may I ask?"

Harry swallowed, cheeks flushing from the intensity of the man's stare. "It... It really doesn't matter, sir," he whispered.

"Potter, were you instructed to write lines for this detention?"

Harry sighed. "Yes."

Severus visibly stiffened. "And, correct me if I'm wrong, but was the quill you used in the detention not your own?"

Harry shook his head. "No, it wasn't my quill."

"And, this quill you wrote with," Severus continued, looking back down at Harry's hand, "were you given ink?"

Harry's shoulders slackened then, and shook his head once again. "No, I was told that I wouldn't be needing any ink."

"When you wrote with this quill," Severus continued, obviously attempting to keep his temper with the situation, "what color was the ink upon the parchment?"

Harry's heart pounded all over again. "Red," he managed to get out.

Severus dropped Harry's hand as if he had been burned. "You've been using a blood quill!" he shouted then, voice dripping with anger.

Harry lowered his eyes. "Yes, I see," he said softly. "May as well keep my mouth shut in that bitch's class until after term ends..."

"That bitch's class...?" Severus cut himself off then as Harry's eyes met his, causing his mouth to set into a thin line. "The toad has done this to you?!" he spat.

Harry dragged his opposite hand through his hair. "Yes. Merlin, yes. It was her..."

"And what did you do that got you into that situation?"

"She is Fudge's puppet, due to her employment at the ministry, although perhaps she can form her own thought process, I don't know," Harry grumbled then.

"Potter, what did you say?" Severus demanded, growing impatient.

Harry looked up at the man then, narrowing his eyes at him. "She still refuses to believe that Riddle is well and truly back, and she deliberately taunts me with that information!" he cried out then, his voice shaking.

Severus sighed, reaching out and holding his wand above the wounds, causing them to heal and close up with a song of a spell, although Harry could not hear the words, for he was much too distracted by the man literally holding his hand to form any other clear thoughts. "Although you and I both know that information is to that contrary, Potter, that is no reason to..."

The young man swallowed as his hand was returned to him, and he immediately proceeded to knot his fingers into the bedclothes. "She implied, while I was writing lines, that Cedric's death was my fault," Harry told him, for he had been unaware to process the thought before.

Severus blinked. "She what?"

Harry sighed, tears streaming out of his eyes before he could stop them. "Maybe... Maybe it was my fault, you know?" he whispered, throwing himself up and off the bed and pacing back and forth, considering it at length.

Severus shook his head. "Potter..."

"No. I should've taken the port key to the graveyard, and made him stay behind, knowing what I know now. He should've gone back to his mum and dad, and I should have gone to that damned graveyard..."

"Potter, calm yourself..."

"No!" Harry shouted, his calm completely gone. "Maybe... Maybe if I'd died that night, things would've been much simpler..."

"NO!" came the shout of the potions master then, as he stamped across the room, and yanked Harry into his arms. "I don't want to hear you saying that, Harry! Not from you!"

Harry eased himself back slightly then, staring upwards at the man. "You... You called me 'Harry'," he whispered. "You haven't done that before..."

Severus looked torn for a moment then, before he sighed. "I've dealt you a terrible hand from the moment you came under the protection of this school, Harry," he said softly. "Words cannot express how apologetic I am for it."

Harry felt his heart entering his throat then. "Just wish that all of this was easier," he whispered, knowing full well how deep he was in his feelings for the man.

"What was, Harry?"

Harry sighed, knowing that he couldn't burden the man with the information, and so he slipped from his arms. "Nothing," he replied, and moved to gather his things.

"Harry?"

"No, it's nothing," he said, although his assurances fell flat.

"Harry," the man said, placing a hand upon his arm, and Harry permitted himself to lock eyes with him, one final time. "Please. What is bothering you?"

And although it hurt him a great deal, Harry pulled away from him, and murmured, "Nothing is bothering me, sir," before he slipped from the room and was gone.

~*~

Harry scurried up to the owlery with a packet of owl treats for Hedwig, for he was anticipating a letter from Sirius, and he knew that she would expect a due reward. As he stepped into the space and looked for her, he spotted the dark owl that Severus had used weeks before, when they had been up here together. It was the third Friday in May, and Harry had just completed his Ancient Runes OWL, along with Ron, Hermione, Draco, Neville, Dean, and Seamus. He had told Hermione that, prior to studying for their potions exam come Monday, he wanted to take a short break to visit Hedwig. It was Ron who helped convince Hermione by distraction and, by the time Hermione realized it, Harry was already gone.

Harry stepped towards the pretty dark owl, and offered it a treat, but the thing just started at it, before inching forward, and butting Harry's hand with his head. "Hey, boy," he said, regarding the name plate, and discovering the name of the lovely creature was Augustus. "Do you know where Hedwig has gotten to?"

Augustus the owl gave a plaintive sound before flying a short distance away, into a dark corner of the owlery, where Harry noticed the tell-tale sight of snow-white wings. Stepping closer, he watched as Augustus gently poked his beak into the mass, and Hedwig's amber eyes raised to his, and Harry could easily sense the pain there. He stumbled forward, gently easing Hedwig into his arms, and she let out a soft hoot at the gesture.

"Hedwig!" Harry cried out then, tears pricking at his eyes, when he noticed that one of her legs was pulled in the wrong direction, and her wing was bent. Shaking, Harry pulled out his wand and shouted, "Expecto Patronum!" and waited for Prongs to make himself known. "Go to Ron and Hermione, let them know it's an emergency—it's Hedwig!" he cried out then, his voice trembling from emotion, as the stag rushed out of there.

Carrying the broken owl carefully out of the owlery, Harry ignored the sunshine around him, and was slightly surprised that Augustus never left his side. He looked up at the creature then, his wings illuminated in the blue sky, and wondered what to do. Finally, he looked fully up at the owl, knowing that, perhaps, he would know.

"Where can I take her to be helped?" he asked brokenly.

Augustus hooted then and surged forward, whipping as fast as he could, and Harry noticed that he was making his way to Hagrid's hut. The giant had been off on assignment for Dumbledore for much of the year, and the position of Care of Magical Creatures had been taken over by Professor Grubbly-Plank. However, the giant had returned a few weeks ago, and Harry knew that Hedwig would be in the best hands possible with him.

"Harry!" came Hermione's familiar shout from atop the hill, and, turning, he saw both Ron and Hermione rushing towards him.

"Merlin, mate, what happened?!" Ron demanded, staring down at Hedwig.

"I don't know, I don't know!" Harry sobbed, keeping a good grip upon her. "I found her in the owlery like this..."

"Let's get her to Hagrid's," Hermione said diplomatically, tears staining her eyes as she threw an arm around Harry's shoulders and managed to guide him forward.

Ron charged forward, rapping at the man's door, just as Hagrid opened up and stared down at him. "Hagrid!" Ron cried out between bursts of breath.

"Ah, hello, Ron," he said fondly, before looking up, and spotting Harry and Hermione, along with Hedwig's weak body in Harry's arms. "Oi! Wha's happened?!" he demanded, lumbering forward, Fang at his heels.

"He found her in the owlery like that," Hermione explained.

"She's got a twisted leg and a broken wing," Harry said, his tone equally broken, as he handed her over to Hagrid.

"Oh, Hedwig," Hagrid said, gently stroking her feathers, and holding her close. "Come inside, all of yer. We've got to set 'er wing an' leg before they freeze like tha'." Turning, the giant lumbered back into the hut, Fang following, with Harry, Ron, and Hermione rushing just behind the dog, who appeared to be equally concerned.

Ron shut the door behind them all, while Hermione crossed the room to boil some water, some for the procedure, and some for cups of tea. Harry remained standing by the door, in shock, while Fang stood guard beside him, leaning slightly into his side. He was barely able to comprehend what Hagrid was doing, but managed to watch as the giant got some bandage-like cloth for his bird and proceeded to see to her wounds.

"Umbridge must've done this," Ron muttered darkly, and Hermione's dark eyes latched onto him at once.

"You don't think she could have..."

"You may be righ'," Hagrid said, gently tending to Hedwig, who hooted softly within Hagrid's massive hands. "Tha' woman's had it ou' for our 'Arry fer as long as I can remember. She's one nasty piece o' work."

Harry watched as Hagrid painstakingly bound up Hedwig's wing and leg. "Hagrid, you don't really think Umbridge would've...?"

"She wanted me ter be demoted when I got back 'ere," he said with a shrug, never taking his eyes off Hedwig as he worked. "Tha's a good girl, 'Edwig. No strugglin' now," he scolded gently, and Hedwig's eyes slowly fluttered closed, likely exhausted from the ordeal. "Now, can yer tell me who did this to yer?" he asked.

Hedwig let out a mournful sound then, eyes fluttering open, and staring somberly at Hagrid, before sleep took her. Hagrid gently lifted her up again, once her leg and wing were set, and placed her upon a high-shelf, which boasted a small blanket and pillow. The blanket was large enough to tuck around her, which the giant did, before gently stroking her head and leaving off of her to rest.

"Umbridge," he confirmed. "Filch's orders."

"That low-life toad, pink-bonnet wearing, high-pitched whining, little—"

"Ron, that won't solve anything," Hermione whispered, pouring them all massive cups of tea, which she levitated to the mammoth, circular table. "And while I agree with you that that abomination of a witch should be taken down a peg, I cannot in good faith permit the man I love to sink to her level."

Ron sighed, slipping into the seat beside her at the table. "I love you, 'Mione."

Harry moved to sit beside Hagrid on the other side of the table. "The sooner the year's over and done with, the better," he muttered.

~*~

The final OWL for the fifth-years the following week was that of History of Magic, one which Harry was personally not looking forward to. The class itself was tedious at best, and he and Ron agreed that they would take Herbology as opposed to History of Magic, in order to apply for the Auror Academy, come graduation. Hermione, however, had poured over her books for months leading up to the schedule being released, causing Harry and Ron to roll their eyes. Hermione, meanwhile, had been quite strict with their OWL schedule, letting them know that it was not a laughing matter, and that they needed their OWLs in order to make a plan for what their NEWTs would ultimately be, come seventh-year.

Harry trudged to the examination location that day, annoyed that Umbridge was to be serving as proctor for the examination, as Professor Binns overseeing it was deemed as a conflict of interest. Hermione had explained at length why that was, but Harry hadn't been listening. The scrambled eggs in the Great Hall had been runny that morning, and Harry thought Hermione had said something about a Morose Charm making them that way by association.

Regardless, Harry's mind was a jumble of thoughts about what had befallen Hedwig. His owl was still stationed in Hagrid's hut, as she had been for the past week, and Harry made an effort to see her in between the time examinations had ended and dinner had begun. Now that they were on their final day of exams, getting to see Hedwig before they presumably returned home to Number 4 Privet Drive that summer would prove to be much easier. Her wing was very nearly better, although her leg's position left much to be desired. Although he was hesitant to admit it, he knew she would be confined to her cage for much of the summer, and knew that his dear familiar wouldn't take too kindly to that treatment. And as he walked to the Great Hall, where all the OWL examinations took place, he found himself feeling all the more empty than before, and no one could say anything to make him think otherwise.

Harry found a seat in one of the many desks scattered about the classroom. They had been made this way via a Cutting Spell, so as attempts at cheating by copying directly off of someone else's exams would be noticed. Harry ignored Umbridge, practically seething with anger at what she had done, and although both Ron and Hermione, as well as Hagrid, had told him to report his suspicions of her injuries to Dumbledore, he had done no such thing. He set down his bag at the foot of his desk, and took out his ink, quills, and wand, which was only to be used to vanish ink stains or mistakes during the exam.

Umbridge addressed the students once the appropriate hour had arrived, and spelled their exams onto their respective desks. As she went over instructions, everyone scrawled their names in the blank spot provided, and she went over the routine rules. No Auto-Answer Quills, no peeking at other exams, no talking until you'd finished and left the classroom, and the like. Finally, she stopped running her mouth and permitted the students to begin, and Harry dipped his quill in the provided pot of ink and began scrawling down the answers.

There was a ticking sound from a clock nearby, but Harry hardly noticed the sound, as he attempted to remember scattered facts about goblin rebellions, gargoyle strikes, witch and wizard standard and complex laws, and the odd question about a vampire bat that didn't seem to belong there but, nevertheless, was upon the parchment anyhow. Once he had finished, about an hour and a quarter into the two-hour time limit, he banished his test towards the front of the class and left, spotting Ron, Hermione, and Draco outside in the corridor, as they had all finished their exams already.

"Want to go see Hedwig, mate?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Let's go."

The four fifth-years walked outside through the courtyard to get to Hagrid's hut, when suddenly they were blindsided by sparks flying in the air. Looking up, they spotted Fred and George, who were whooping and hollering with joy, and using their wands to cast the sparks, while flying madly upon their brooms. There was a clamor from somewhere inside the school then, and many other students ran out of doors—Neville, Seamus, and Dean from the exam, and Ginny and Luna from their respective classes. Ginny found them in the crowd and Draco pulled her into his arms, while Neville and Luna found one another shortly thereafter.

Harry turned slightly then, to see that Umbridge had made an effort to follow the students who had left the exam, and that Filch, carrying Mrs. Norris, was right behind her. They were staring upwards at the eighteen-year-old boys, who emitted joy with every move they made upon their brooms, using their wands to create intricate patterns in the sky. Harry was quite positive that the Wizarding World was familiar with fireworks by this time, due to the impressive display he had seen while with Hermione and the Weasley family at the Quidditch World Cup Finale the summer before, when things slowly but surely began to change, what with the Dark Mark appearing above the burned-out remains of the camp, once the Death Eaters had seized it, and one Barty Crouch, Jr. had made his play for Harry's death for the first time.

It was then that Fred and George seemed to nod to one another, before they slashed at the air with their wands. Fred made a pink toad in the sky, before intricately drawing a red general prohibition sign through it, while George wrote in beautiful amber sparks For Hedwig. Harry felt touched at the gesture, as the twins had known pretty much immediately through Harry, Ron, and Hermione what had befallen Harry's familiar. Harry turned around then and glared at Umbridge for a moment, who looked thoroughly put out by the entirety of the situation.

The finale of the show turned out to be a red-orange 'W' in the sky, which directly caused Ron and Ginny to applaud their antics. Harry, Hermione, and Draco did so as well, for the both of them were now fully integrated within the brood itself. And then, Fred and George turned one last time towards the institution of learning, and gave secret smiles to Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Draco, before they spurred their brooms like horses, and flew off into the distance and disappeared over the tops of the Forbidden Forest and beyond.

"Mum'll be furious," Ron said with a grin, throwing an arm around Hermione's shoulders, all but laughing from the impressive display.

"I didn't expect anything different from either of them," Ginny observed as she snuggled even closer still into Draco's arm.

"You're absolutely correct, my Ginevra," Draco put in.

Hermione rolled her eyes, but moved closer to Harry and took his hand. "You all right?" she asked him tentatively.

Harry sighed. "Countdown begins," he said softly. "Sooner or later, we've all got to make a choice between what is right and what is easy," he whispered, remembering Dumbledore's words from the year before. "What's it going to be, then?" he asked himself, or Hermione, he really didn't know who, as he turned around then, wanting to witness Umbridge's effective defeat just one more time.

~*~

Harry walked down the stairs from the fifth-year dorms and into the common room, where he saw both Ron and Hermione, plus Draco and Ginny, lazing about on the couch in front of the massive fireplace. It had been fifteen days since Fred and George had made their final exit from Hogwarts, and, according to Ron and Ginny, there had been a bevy of Howlers awaiting them at their final destination. Via a loan that Harry had given them—which had come directly from his Triwizard Tournament winnings—they had set up shop at 93 Diagon Alley, and Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes had been born.

"It's the best opening, mate!" Ron had crowed to Harry as Harry came down the stairs and made himself known.

"What is?" he asked.

"What else?" Ginny cried, tossing that day's edition of The Daily Profit at him, where it read, Weasley Twins Take Diagon, with a report that Fred and George's shop had had the best opening since the seventeenth century, when Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor had opened up in the alley itself.

"And it's all thanks to you, mate," Ron said admiringly, summoning the paper back, which Hermione quickly snatched to look it over.

"Really," Hermione said, clicking her tongue. "The rumor of Fudge being sacked is far more important than a new shop in Diagon Alley opening."

Ron clutched at his chest and threw himself down into her lap in a mock-faint. "Oh, 'Mione, what would your future brothers-in-law have to say about that?"

Draco raised his eyebrows. "Should we leave...?"

"No!" Ginny shouted then, leaning forward. "Is this a conversation that has been asked and accepted by the both of you? Am I to finally have Hermione as my sister in truth?"

Hermione promptly bunched up The Profit and slapped Ron upon the head with it. "I thought we agreed not to discuss permanent arrangements until you and I both were seventeen," she hissed at him with narrowed eyes.

"Oi!" Ron cried out, rubbing his head.

Harry smirked at their antics, but nevertheless shook his head. "Wish I could stay, but I've a meeting to make."

"With the headmaster?" Draco guessed.

Harry shook his head. "No. And I would say it would do me good to get out of the common room to get some fresh air for a while, but the Quidditch Pitch is...occupied."

"Yeah," Ron said with a shudder. "Seamus and Lavender making themselves known is enough to make me ill."

"At least we don't have to see Dean and Susan together," Ginny replied, wrinkling her nose and shaking her head.

"Luna and Neville's relationship is much more tolerable," Draco said in a diplomatic tone, gently easing Ginny closer to him.

"Honestly, all of you," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "We're growing up. It's only natural for romantic relationships to form eventually by those who choose them. Although, I'll readily admit that Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson pairing up frightens me to no end..."

Harry slipped out of the common room without a final goodbye, and made his way down the stairs and into the dungeons, where he had been summoned by note after lunch that afternoon. It was now early evening, and Harry hoped to wrap up his meeting with the potions master quickly, so as he could go and see Hedwig at Hagrid's before dinner. The temperature became colder around him as he descended the stone steps, and proceeded down the corridor, lit only by medieval-looking torches, and found the door of the potions classroom, and rapped on it three times, before waiting to be let in.

Severus opened the door and stood back, allowing Harry entrance, and Harry did so with a nod in thanks. Severus shut the door behind him and crossed over to his desk, retrieving a piece of parchment and presenting it to Harry. "I know it is not the formal date to show off exam results, but, with the headmaster's permission, I believed that showing you this was appropriate."

Harry took ahold of the offered piece of parchment the man had given him, and gazed down upon it. It was his potions OWL, and, at the top of the page where the grade was, there was an 'O' for Outstanding. Harry, meanwhile, knew he would have been lucky to receive an 'E' for Exceeds Expectations, so the 'O' was shocking to say the least.

"Oh," he said. "Thank you, sir."

"Yes, well," the man said, gently taking the parchment back and vanishing it to his desk. "All good things have to come to an end."

Harry blinked, permitting himself to look up at the man. "Sir?"

"You now qualify for Advanced Potions next term," the man explained patiently. "This means that it will become all the more difficult for me to bully you."

Harry's brows came together at that. "I had thought there was an agreement in place for you to stop the juvenile behavior, sir."

Severus's lips twitched in amusement at that, and he nodded. "There was, and there is. It shall be in effect until your graduation in two years."

Harry nodded. "Very well, then. If that was all..."

"Harry," Severus said, effectively stopping Harry's retreat from his classroom. "Please don't go rushing off again."

Harry sighed. "There is nothing more to discuss, sir."

"Harry, I hate to disagree with you, but there are a great many things to discuss, as there are some unspoken matters between the two of us."

Harry sighed, his shoulders slacking then. "You have made it abundantly clear that there is naught left to discuss," he said softly. "I am grateful that you managed to get Umbridge sacked, based not only upon her treatment of me, but my peers as well. Perhaps sixth-year will be much better than this one," he said, and moved to leave a second time.

"Harry, wait."

"Yes, professor?" he asked, looking up at him.

"How is your familiar? Hedwig, wasn't it?"

He nodded. "She is doing much better under Hagrid's care. He mentioned something about Healing Potions. I assume I have you to thank for that."

"No thanks are necessary, Harry," Severus assured him. "Umbridge was a bully who doesn't deserve any positions of power, especially over children. I do hope that, one day, Hedwig will fly again and be as good as new."

"Short bursts, for now, according to Hagrid. He said I may see her fly today. Apparently, she is getting too cooped up in that hut, and is itching to go out for a hunt."

Severus chuckled. "She'll bring you back a fat, juicy mouse as soon as she is able to do so without straining herself. I'm sure of it."

"Yes, and eat it outright," Harry said, responding to the man's laughter, which he found was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. He checked himself then, before shaking his head, and lowered his eyes; he mustn't allow himself to become too familiar with the man, lest his heart be risked again, he mustn't.

"Harry?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Tell me, is there anything else bothering you?"

Harry permitted himself to look up again. "No. Why should there be?"

Severus quickly stiffened at the coldness of his tone. "I... Because I believe that you have permitted yourself to act a certain way, these past weeks, for my sake."

Harry swallowed. "And what if your assumption turned out to be true?"

"I would order you to stop it at once."

Harry shook his head. "I cannot do that, sir. I will not."

"Why, Harry? Why won't you be yourself?"

"Because to be myself is to admit to things that I am not fully sure of," the young man said, his voice threatening to break then. "And then, there is the notion of feelings not being reciprocated, and treading into dangerous waters. Not only for ethical reasons, but because of the fact that I promised someone not to bring them up again."

Severus sighed. "Harry..."

"Please, don't," Harry said softly. "I will no longer risk my sanity, nor your feelings on the matter. I won't."

"Harry..."

"Please," Harry whispered, interrupting him. "Thank you for permitting me to see my potions grade early, it means a lot to me."

"Harry, you don't understand..."

"I understand plenty," Harry said firmly, cutting across the older man. "You mean too much to me for me not to," he said, almost as if it was an afterthought, before he ran out of the potions classroom, ignoring the man's attempts to call him back.