CRASH.

Harry was thrown across the room as Professor Snape argued with him, and Harry felt his ears itching at the notion of the potions master referring to his father as a swine. Harry just couldn't even attempt to understand the professor's mannerisms—any of them. Almost since he had walked into that classroom for the first time, at the age of eleven, the older man had seemed to have it out for him. Nothing Harry could do seemed to change the man's attitude, and although he tried his best, Malfoy would still throw random things not in the potions recipes into his cauldron, which gave Harry quite the reputation in class.

Harry fell into the seat on the other side of the classroom; he'd asked, begged, to be allowed to rest, due to the fact that he and the older man had been at the lesson for hours. It seemed useless, he mused to himself, as he rubbed his knees, which had faced the impact of falling into the chair head-on; there would be bruises later, he was sure of it. Thankfully, he could easily claim that he had gotten them on the Quidditch pitch, and no one would be any the wiser. As he lifted his head slowly then, after making an effort to turn around, he saw the potions master proceeding to lift his wand again, and, panicking, said the first word that came out of his mouth, while all the while struggling to his feet.

"Protego!" he shouted, knowing that the Shield Charm was the only thing to happen now. And then, much to his shock, the Legilimens Spell reversed, and Harry was seeing directly into the mind of his most-loathed professor.

He saw a young boy sitting in what appeared to be a cold, stone bedroom, which looked even worse than his makeshift bedroom at the Dursleys—hell, even Harry's mattress was thicker than that! The memory swirled, and there was another, with the same young man, half-hidden in the shadows that the torches gave off in the corridors of Hogwarts, and the poor man had toilet paper stuck to the bottom of his school shoe. Snickers could be heard, and as the man turned, Harry knew full well that it was Severus Snape himself. The memory swirled once again, and he saw Snape sitting beneath a tree on the grounds of the school, nose in a book, reading by the light the sun provided. There was a shout, causing the man to look up.

"Snivellus! Expelliarmus!" came a voice, and Harry's heard immediately thundered in his breast at the sight of his own father advancing on Snape. There were three other young men behind him—Sirius, Remus, and Pettigrew—with Sirius and Pettigrew laughing, and Remus looking uncomfortable with the entirety of the situation, a Gryffindor prefect badge shining on his school robes. "Who wants to see me take Snivellus's trousers off?!" James Potter called, and Harry shook his head in shock as Sirius and Pettigrew cheered at the idea.

"Dad..." Harry said automatically, but knew that he was powerless to stop his father's actions, as they were rooted in the past.

Snape, by this time, had risen to his feet, and was searching the tall grass around them for where his wand had landed. However, he was unable to do much of anything, and stared with shocked onyx eyes at what happened next. Harry felt something akin to extreme guilt settle within him as he watched what was happening.

"Levicorpus!" came James's shout, and he systematically lifted Snape into the air, with Sirius and Pettigrew continuing to cheer their friends' actions. James snickered childishly as his spell worked effortlessly, and flipped Snape around mid-air, before charming his trousers off.

"Stop!" Harry screamed, unknowing what else to do. He ran up towards his father, intent upon shoving him away from the potions master, but merely went through the body, and toppled onto the grassy ground, as the shouts of encouragement from Sirius and Pettigrew slammed repeatedly into his ears, as well as his father's laughter, and, as he raised his eyes upwards, saw that Remus did nothing, as Snape begged for them to stop.

"James Potter!" came a shot then, and Harry turned his face then, seeing a beautiful young woman with an impressive mane of red hair, and shining green eyes, run onto the scene. "Let him down at once!"

James, to his credit, looked cowed, and immediately put the counter-jinx onto Snape, before summoning his trousers. "Sorry, Lils," he said softly.

"Don't you dare call me that!" Lily Evans shouted, her voice practically shaking as she stood in front of Snape, blocking him from view so that he could put his trousers back on. "How can you possibly act this way towards anyone?! You're acting like you still belong in nappies!"

James flushed red at that, and lowered his eyes. "I don't belong in nappies..." He muttered, clearly embarrassed by this.

Snape stomped away from the scene then, and Lily moved to follow him, as they walked around the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"Severus," Lily said softly, running after him.

"Don't."

"But, Sev, I was really just trying to help you—"

"I didn't ask for it," Snape ground out.

"Well, no you didn't, but we're supposed to be friends. Best friends," Lily said, her voice shaking slightly then, as she attempted to keep up.

"I said 'no'!" Snape shouted then, rounding on Lily, his dark eyes filled with anger. "I never asked for help from a filthy Mudblood like you!"

Lily stumbled backwards then, shaking her head. "Sev, you... You don't mean that..."

Snape blinked then and immediately shook his head. "Lily, I... I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that, not at all. Please..."

"Stop it," Lily said then, setting her jaw, all sadness filtering away from her tone and expression as she faced him then. "Go blather to your Death Eater friends. Maybe Lucius Malfoy can protect you now, because I certainly won't stick my neck out for a blaggard like you!" she yelled, before turning on her heel and leaving Snape behind in the woods.

"Enough!" came a shout then as the memory dissolved, and Harry's Shield Charm failed completely as he collapsed backwards into the chair again. "Enough..." Snape, once Harry's vision had cleared, was coming towards him, and, as Harry got to his feet, he was immediately yanked into the man's arms, the glare of death suddenly disappearing into one of extreme dislike as the man took him in. "Your lessons are at an end," said the man, as soon as he could finally speak again.

"I didn't..." Harry began, wanting to explain himself, desperately, to apologize, now that he finally understood why the man hated him so much.

"Get. Out," said the man, unwinding his long fingers from Harry's shirt, and shoved him away from him. He didn't give Harry a final glance as the fifteen-year-old quickly stumbled around him, and did his best to leave the potions classroom quickly, without looking back, hating that nothing had been done to assist him when he was a teenager.

~*~

Harry sat with Ron on one side of the train compartment, while Hermione and Ginny sat on the other, speaking softly to one another. There were plenty of snow flurries outside, and Harry wondered if they would be able to build a snowman. He'd stumbled out of the dungeons the night before, and no matter how many questions Ron and Hermione had asked him, he refused to tell them what had gone on the night before. He caught wind of snippets of Hermione and Ginny's conversation, and seemed to think that they were discussing fifth-year Ravenclaw Michael Corner, who Ginny had been seeing for about a year, amid laughing at Crookshanks's antics, who was sitting in a contented manner between the two young witches, and was being adored with lots of attention.

"Harry, mate," Ron said, and Harry turned to look at Ron. "Just say the word, and Gin will ditch Michael and come running to you."

"What?!" Harry squawked.

"Well, it's just you didn't seem too impressed with your snog with Cho," Ron said, shrugging his shoulders in an awkward fashion.

"We decided we're better off as friends," Harry replied. "Besides, she's still grieving Cedric, and we both think it was too soon for her. Not that I minded; I don't think that she and I would've worked out anyway."

"She's not leaving the DA, is she?" he asked. "Her spells could use some work. Didn't you say that she hadn't been able to stun anything before?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but don't go spreading that around, Ron. It's not very polite, or sportsmanlike, considering that she plays as Ravenclaw's Seeker."

Ron rolled his eyes. "So, anyhow, back to Ginny," he said, and Harry had to fight not to grimace, due to the fact that Ginny was less than two feet away from them. "'Mione will tell her to ditch Michael, and then the two of you can..."

"Thought you didn't want your sister dating anyone, Ron," Harry said with a smirk, and crossed his arms.

Ron sputtered for a moment, shaking his head. "You're different—you're my best mate," Ron told him quickly. "Not like you'd do anything..."

"You'd be right," Harry told him, and his friend's eyes widened. "I see Gin like my sister. We talked about it, and she's fine. In fact, I think she saw it as a relief."

"Relief? She's liked you since she was a kid..."

"She admired me from the age of ten, Ron, and then after I rescued her from the chamber, she was grateful to me," Harry said patiently. "She even told me that she thought she owed it to me to be my girlfriend. I told her she didn't, of course," he said to Ron's darkening expression, "and said that we could stay good friends, and that I think of her as a sister, just like Hermione. She was really happy, and even if her relationship with Michael doesn't last, both of us are off the hook, so to speak."

Ron sighed. "Thanks, mate."

Harry blinked. "For what?"

"For not taking advantage."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Despite what the Sorting Hat said, I clearly don't belong in Slytherin," he said with a laugh. "And besides, it's nice having more than one friend that's a girl."

"Just a friend?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Why?"

"Just that you seem to be getting closer to Luna," Ron said with a shrug. "I dunno how someone is going to feel about that..."

"If you're talking about Neville," Hermione said, cutting into their conversation, "you've got nothing to worry about."

"Worry? Who's worrying?" Ron said, forcing a smile onto his face.

Ginny laughed at her brother. "No one should be worried, Ron. And besides, Luna's told me that Neville asked her to go out with him weeks ago, right after DA started. They're even dividing up their holiday time to spend it together."

"So, they're a couple?" Ron asked.

"Honestly, Ronald," Hermione responded, rolling their eyes.

"Nobody could mistake it, mate," Harry told him, sitting smugly upon the bench seat beside Ron, and waited for his friend to look at him before he spoke again. "Neville was going for days at a time without mentioning plants, and talking about how pretty Luna's eyes were, or how much he liked her hair."

"Neville?!" Ron demanded, his eyes popping.

"Of course Neville," Hermione said impatiently.

"He can be quite romantic when he wants to be," Ginny put in. "And he is such a gentleman. He didn't even mind when he wanted to dance with Michael at the Yule Ball last year."

The four friends chattered happily throughout the remainder of the journey, and soon it was time to get off the train, due to their arrival at Kings Cross Station. Harry followed the rest of them, with Hermione and Ginny constantly cooing at Crookshanks, now in Hermione's arms, and found he was relieved that he wouldn't be going to the Dursleys for the holiday season, and the foursome met up with Fred and George on the platform, before heading through the brick wall and into the Muggle world. Harry smiled automatically at the sight of Mrs. Weasley standing there waiting for them, and she pulled them all into warm hugs before ushering them to the Apparition Point, located just outside the station and in a back alley.

"Come along, dears," she said. "Your trunks have been seen to by Arthur. He's already brought them to our destination."

"Destination, Mrs. Weasley?" Harry asked. "We aren't going to the Burrow?"

"Oh, no, Harry, not this time," Mrs. Weasley replied with a bright smile. She said nothing else as they entered a rather thick crowd of people, and made their way across the floor and towards the main door of the place. Once outside, they promptly moved to the back alley and respectively vanished with a crack.

Harry's jaw dropped when they revitalized on a familiar street in Islington, and they all promptly walked through the gate. He watched as Mrs. Weasley tapped the cobblestone ground with her boot, and the door for Number 12 Grimmauld Place appeared between numbers 11 and 13. He stepped forward when it was appropriate and they all moved inside, with Ron, Fred, and George immediately running upstairs to claim the "best" bedroom, and Hermione and Ginny rolling their eyes at the boys' antics, while Crookshanks hopped from his mistress's arms and proceeded to walk slowly up and down the hallway.

"Harry Potter."

Harry looked up then, and saw Sirius standing there on the edge of the hallway. He was slightly reluctant to do so, but found himself running towards the man and hugging him. "Sirius!" he cried out as he launched himself into the man's arms. Even though he had treated Snape in such a way—which he was determined to ask the man about—he found that he needed comfort above all things.

"We've got a lot of things planned for the holiday, Harry," said Remus, from where he was standing in the kitchen doorway, directly behind Sirius.

"Yeah?" Harry asked, letting himself down from Sirius's embrace, only to allow himself to hug Remus next. "Such as?"

"There's the feast on Christmas Eve and then again on Christmas Day," Mrs. Weasley said, coming up behind them.

"Which means lots of cooking and shopping in preparation," Sirius said with a smile. "Molly has considerately agreed to help Kreacher with the cooking."

"How are things with Umbridge, Harry?" Remus wanted to know, guiding Harry into the kitchen, with Sirius, Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, and Ginny trailing behind.

Harry sighed, rolling his shoulders and taking the offered seat at the long, wooden table, with Hermione and Ginny sitting on either side of him. "Not too bad," he said, watching as Crookshanks slipped into the room before the door shut, and proceeded to wrap himself in a systematic manner around Hermione and Ginny's legs. "After that first detention, I've kept my head down," he replied, running his hands on the words cut into the back of his hand via the madwoman's blood quill, I must not tell lies staring back up at him.

"We told him to tell Dumbledore," Hermione put in softly, and Ginny nodded, having been involved in the conversation as well.

"He said he wouldn't and that it wouldn't do any good," Ron stated, coming into the kitchen, and plunking himself down on Hermione's other side.

"I don't want to bother the man," Harry said with a halfhearted shrug. "Besides, ever since my hearing at the ministry this summer..."

"What, Harry?" Sirius asked, lowering himself onto the chair at the head of the table, while Mrs. Weasley squeezed his shoulder, before waltzing into the kitchen beyond.

"Dumbledore's been avoiding me," Harry said softly. "I've wanted to ask him why, but he always seems not to walk to talk about it, much less talk to me."

"He's very busy as headmaster, Harry," Remus told him patiently. "Perhaps it's keeping Fudge off his back."

"Does the minister still not believe that You-Know-Who is back?" Ginny asked, gently squeezing Harry's arm for comfort, and Harry laid his head down onto her shoulder, permitting her to gently card her fingers through his hair.

Sirius shook his head at her. "I'm afraid not, Ginny. And, not to speak ill of anyone, but some of his staunch supporters are frequently whispering poisonous things into his ear..."

"If you're talking about Percy," said Fred, coming into the room and going to sit beside Remus on the other side of the table.

"We wouldn't care," George continued, and moved to sit next to his twin.

"Not like he ever comes home anyway," they said together.

"Now, boys," Mrs. Weasley said, strutting back into the room, a tea tray levitated before her, which boasted a pot of tea, mugs for everyone, a bowl of sugar, an abundance of spoons, a dish of honey, a platter of lemons, two creamers with milk and cream respectively, and a plate of various biscuits, "no matter what we may feel, I won't have you speaking ill of your brother, no matter how he's acting."

"Quite right," said Mr. Weasley, entering the kitchen then, just as his wife placed the tea tray in the center of the table, and crossed the room, kissing her on the cheek in greeting. "All of your trunks have been filed away in your respective bedrooms."

"What kept you, love?" Mrs. Weasley asked her husband, leaving over the table slightly to charm the teapot to pour, and banished the various cups so that each person had one, and allowed the spoons, honey, lemons, creamers, and biscuit plates to float around, so that everyone could take what they liked.

"Fudge needed a word," Mr. Weasley said bitterly, sitting on the other side of the table, squeezing everyone's shoulders as he walked by.

"About?" Harry asked, immediately concerned.

Mr. Weasley sighed. "He needed to check the contents of the trunks personally," he said bitterly, and shook his head. "I'm afraid that he only did so when he became aware that one of the trunks belonged to you, Harry."

"Bastard," Sirius muttered, and was rewarded with a smack upon his shoulder, delivered by Mrs. Weasley, before shoving a biscuit into his mouth.

"I happen to agree," Remus put in, stirring some honey into his tea, before adorning the side of his mug with a wedge of lemon. "However, we must not speak ill about those who are in charge, no matter how much we may disagree with them."

"Doesn't give him the right to constantly interfere with innocent children," Sirius put in, and shook his head.

"I've never been a child," Harry said quietly, staring into his tea.

"Regardless, I'm afraid he has every right, especially now that the ministry is interfering with the employees at Hogwarts," Mr. Weasley responded, his tone grave. "If you ask me, they never should have hired that wretched woman..."

Harry pushed himself up from the table; he'd barely sipped his tea, and had only eaten about a quarter of his biscuit. "I'm going to see Witherwings," he told everyone softly, before leaving the kitchen, and made his way down the corridor, and up the darkened staircase.

Harry mused that the residence of the Black family must've been grand at one time but, due to the death of Sirius's younger brother Regulus and Sirius's rejection of Pureblood supremacy, as well as his family's disowning of him, it had fallen drastically into disrepair. It was an open secret that the aged house-elf, Kreacher, openly favored Regulus, as well as the deceased matriarch of the family, Walburga, who systematically began to shout about Harry's Half-Blood status as he continued up the staircase.

"Sod off!" he shouted at her, which silenced her for a moment.

Harry finally made it to the attic, where Witherwings, formerly known as Buckbeak, was kept, and he promptly bowed to the impressive creature. The yellow eyes took him in then, and, although he didn't rise, he did lower his head towards Harry. Smiling to himself, he stepped forward, and stroked the pale blue feathers of the beast, who bowed his head further at the display of affection.

"Would you like to meet Hedwig while I'm here?" Harry asked, and the yellow eyes instantly looked up at Harry, questioning. "She's my snowy owl, my familiar," he explained, and the creature blinked his eyes. "No, she's quite alive, and would peck you unmercilessly if you tried eating her," he joked, causing the hippogriff to chortle in a sound reminiscent of laughter.

"Harry?"

Harry turned around at the sound of the voice, and saw Sirius standing there. "Hey," he said, and seemed to hunch his shoulders immediately. "Did you follow me?"

"Well, wasn't difficult to do so, considering that you announced to the entire kitchen where it was you were going," Sirius replied. "You all right?"

Harry shook his head at the man. "No, Sirius. I'm not all right."

"Very well," Sirius said, sitting in one of the chairs close to the door. "Talk to me about what's bothering you, then."

Harry sighed, but ultimately crossed the room and sat next to his godfather. "You know how Dumbledore ordered Professor Snape to give me Occlumency lessons, after all the nightmares I had about You-Know-Who?"

Sirius gave a stiff nod. "How could I forget? I was against it from the start. However, given your descriptions of the nightmares you suffered in the wake of the tournament, and Dumbledore saying that Snape was the best one for the job, I had to put my selfishness aside for your well-being, which I'll always do, Harry."

Harry nodded. "I know, Sirius..."

"Harry, did something happen in the lessons?" Sirius asked, and Harry pulled one of his legs upwards towards his chest. "It did, didn't it?" he wanted to know, his voice steadily rising as his temper threatened to get the better of him. "Dear Merlin, what did Snape do—?!"

"He didn't do anything!" Harry suddenly shouted then, tears threatening to escape his eyes as he shot to his feet. "It's what you all did to him!"

Sirius's blue eyes widened at Harry's words, shocked. "Harry, please explain to me what you're referring to," he replied, never raising his voice once.

"He... Snape refused to let me rest," Harry said, his temper slowly ebbing and flowing then, and Sirius was not best pleased to hear that fact pass through Harry's lips, and watched as his godson proceeded to pace around the attic space. "I asked him if we could rest, and he said that 'the Dark Lord never rests, so I shouldn't be afforded the same treatment'. I didn't know what else to do, especially when he said bad things about Dad, and when I defended Dad, Snape threw me across the room. I was so lost, so lost, so I used the Shield Charm so that he couldn't hurt me anymore, either with my memories or otherwise..."

"Harry?"

"I looked into his Pensieve without permission," Harry whispered, collapsing back into his chair, suddenly exhausted from his pacing. "I saw..."

"What, Harry? What did you see?"

"I saw you, Dad, Remus, and Wormtail torturing Snape!" he cried out then, jabbing an accusatory finger into Sirius's direction.

Sirius's face boasted a shadow for a moment before he lowered his eyes. "Ah. You saw when James charmed his trousers off, did you?"

"Yes," Harry said, flushing automatically at the memory, hating himself for admiring the professor's amazing legs without permission.

"Harry, you've got to understand that we were your age. We were kids, teenagers. So often young people pull pranks. Look at Fred and George—"

"Don't compare what Fred and George do to what you Marauders did!" Harry shouted, his temper back as he glared at his godfather. "The only person they prank on a regular basis is Filch, and that bastard deserves it—he wants to bring back the old punishments, he told us that back in first-year!"

"I'll admit we permitted ourselves to be blinked by hatred," Sirius said softly. "However, it was James who was the ringleader, because of his love for your mother."

Harry blinked. "What are you talking about?"

"Snape and your mother, Lily, were best friends," Sirius told Harry. "However, James was convinced that Snape was in love with your mother and, because of their friendship, would ultimately end up with him."

"But she didn't," Harry snapped. "I'm here, aren't I? And I've enough people in my life telling me how much I resemble Dad."

"It is true, you are James and Lily's child, never doubt that," Sirius assured him. "But you must know that, as young teenagers, we all didn't know right from wrong..."

"I never would have done what you did," Harry said thickly, shaking his head at Sirius. "No matter how much I may detest Draco Malfoy, I wouldn't inflict something so damaging upon him that he would constantly think up ways to enact punishments on my future children. You, all of you, were wrong, and no matter how much time has gone by, you should apologize," he said steadily, before leaving the room.

That night, Harry was surprised to have a very strange dream. It was Snape, staring at him with those onyx eyes of his, never leaving his gaze. However, within the dream, Snape's eyes were not filled with hatred, but, seemed to be filled with something that Harry found he couldn't quite put his finger on.

~*~

Although Sirius attempted to reach out to Harry for more conversation during the rest of the holidays, Harry was successful in evading him. He finally cracked and gave Ron, Hermione, and Ginny the short version, and they helped him in evading his godfather. Remus was no help, however, and Harry was annoyed when he constantly informed him that he had been a bystander in all of the events. Harry informed the man that he could've done something, as he was in a position of authority, but, by not saying anything, was just as bad.

Harry, alongside his friends, was taken to Kings Cross Station in the first days of January to return to Hogwarts for second-term, many things on his mind. The dreams hadn't stopped during the remainder of the holidays; in fact, they were happening many nights out of the week. They always progressed, and now Snape in his dreams seemed to want to say something to Harry, but was constantly holding himself back. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had asked him more than once what was on his mind, but Harry refused to answer them this.

When Harry, Ron, and Hermione had been in their compartment for half an hour, Ginny appeared with a bright smile on her face and took a seat next to Hermione. "Well, it's over at last," she informed them all.

Hermione smiled at her. "You've done it, then?"

"Done what?" Ron demanded, mouthful of Chocolate Frogs.

Hermione clicked her tongue impatiently, intermittently stroking Crookshanks and peering into her new copy of New Theory of Numerology, which Harry had bought her for Christmas. "Oh, honestly, Ronald," she muttered.

"I've broken it off with Michael," Ginny said slowly.

Harry blinked. "Yeah? What happened?" he wanted to know.

Ginny sighed, rolling her eyes. "Honestly? Luna told me that he was mooning after Cho, but I didn't believe him. I only just walked in on them snogging," she said, wrinkling her nose in disgust and shaking her head. "I'm sorry, Harry. Hope you're not too torn up."

"Merlin, no," Harry said, shaking his head. "Like you and me, Cho and I decided that we're better off as friends. I'm more sorry for you."

"Don't be," Ginny told them, smiling slowly. "I may have moved on sooner than Michael did, given our argument before the holidays began."

"You argued before the holidays?" Ron demanded. "Why was I not told?!"

Ginny made a face at her brother, not particularly wanting to see the half-chewed remnants of Chocolate Frog in his mouth. "Because I'm under no obligation to inform you?"

"She's right," Harry said, and Ron glared at him.

"So, you've moved on," Hermione said, appearing as if she had reached then end of a chapter, before placing a mark into her book and returning it to her bag. "Well, tell us, if you want. Who have you moved onto?"

The compartment door opened then, and a repentant Draco Malfoy stood there for a moment, before his eyes turned to Ginny. Ginny, meanwhile, launched to her feet then, crossing towards the door, and promptly pulled the fifth-year Slytherin inside, whereupon she snogged him for all of her friends to see. Harry could practically feel Ron shaking with rage from beside him, especially when Malfoy wrapped his arms around Ginny's waist, pulling her closer, so that she was positioned lengthwise against him.

"Thought you'd never get here," she whispered.

"Sorry," he replied, pressing his forehead to hers. "Had to have it out with Pansy, telling her that she and I would never be a couple, and that us going to the Yule Ball last year wasn't a precursor for anything. I'm yours," he said simply.

"Like hell!" Ron shouted, launching to his feet and separating them immediately. "Stay away from my sister, ferret!"

"Ron!" Ginny yelled, knocking him back without hesitation, and moving to shield Malfoy, her brown eyes filled with anger. "That's my boyfriend you're speaking to!"

Malfoy reached down and squeezed Ginny's hand. "Gin, it's all right," he said gently to her, before looking up at Ron. "Look, I know that an apology, more like many of them, is due here," he said, his voice kind. "I'm sorry, Ron, about everything I did, said, or implied about you that was untrue, for it was malicious and childish, and it won't happen again. Hermione," he said, and Hermione was shocked at his use of his first name, "as you are counted as my girlfriend's best friend, I must offer up my sincerest apologies. Not just for your friendship, but because all I've said to you test past four and a half years have been deplorable. I'm sorry." He turned, lastly, to Harry, who was amazed at the humility of the Slytherin Pureblood. "And, Harry," he said, "I'm sorry about all the cracks about your parents not being around anymore, me calling you Scarhead, and my bullying treatment of you. You may have had only fifteen months with your parents, but, I assure you, they were far better than the nearly sixteen years I've had with my family."

"Thanks, Draco," Harry said, putting out his hand. "Truce."

Draco stepped forward then, and shook Harry's hand. "Truce."

"I love Ginny like she's my sister, and I want her happy. You appear to make her happy, so I wish the two of you luck," Harry said quietly.

"And if you're the bloke who's been writing Ginny love poems, and giving her those thoughtful little gifts," Hermione said, rising to her feet, "then I suppose I can offer you a truce as well, Draco, as long as you never say anything demeaning about my Blood Status, or anyone else's, ever again."

Draco nodded. "Of course," he said, and shook Hermione's hand.

Ron grumbled, but it was cut off, especially when both Hermione and Ginny elbowed him in the ribs, and he tripped forward. "Oi! Fine, fine," he said, rolling his eyes, and offered his hand to Draco slowly. "Fine. Truce."

"Thank you, Ron," Draco said, and took Ginny's hand again.

"Now, then, now that that's settled," Ginny said, pulling Draco down so that he was sitting beside her, pulling out a pack of Ice Mice, "I got you your favorite."

Draco slowly smiled at Ginny. "Thank you," he said, opening his mouth, permitting his girlfriend to feed him the sweet.

~*~

The first week back at Hogwarts was all right for Harry, and he seemed to be settling into the second-term of his fifth-year with ease. There was no improvement with Snape, however, not that Harry expected one. However, although he hadn't expected his apology letter, sent over the holidays, to make a splash, he had hoped that the professor would have acknowledged it.

No such luck.

In fact, Snape seemed to be delighting all the more in torturing Harry during potions class, to the point where Harry was considering failing his OWL on purpose, giving up his dream of being an Auror for good, all on the first day. As the day went by, Dumbledore continued to ignore him, and Harry felt as if he didn't have many allies. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna, and Neville were given, and Draco had proved to continue to be on his best behavior as the first week of term went on. Ron and Neville, for their part, were still skeptical, but Harry and Hermione urged him to give Draco a chance, alongside Luna, for Ginny truly seemed happier than she did in quite a long time.

On the first Tuesday of second-term, which happened to be the second day back in classes, Harry stepped into the potions classroom. They had double-potions that day, and Ron and Hermione had begun working together. Harry's potions had gotten better, for, after calling a truce with Draco, the pair of them had partnered up, and Harry no longer had rogue ingredients in his concoctions at the end of class time.

"Let's hope it's something halfway decent today," Draco muttered, sitting beside Harry at their shared desk.

"Something decent?" Harry asked.

Draco blinked, and immediately shook his head. "Sorry. You don't know."

"Don't know what?" he pressed.

"It's Professor Snape's birthday today," Draco whispered back, and Harry promptly raised his eyebrows at the declaration.

Almost immediately after Draco's sudden announcement, the door to the potions classroom came crashing open, and Professor Snape came into the classroom. The door slammed behind him, and his black robes plumed out behind him. Harry noticed, for the first time from an admiring standpoint, how much his close-fitting black trousers complimented the potions master's long, elegant legs, and immediately flushed upon coming to that conclusion, knowing that no good could possibly come of it.

Finally, however, his Gryffindor courage won out, and he slowly raised his eyes to the man, who was writing instructions on the board with his wand. The man didn't even need to look, and Harry wondered if he would spend his hours before class time dictating potion instructions to his wand in that velvet-like voice of his, and wondered if one could do such a thing. When his green eyes met the onyx ones, however, something thundered from inside him then, as the man's eyes locked with his.

There seemed to be something that passed between them then, and Harry hoped to Merlin that the man couldn't see into his innermost thoughts, and get access to his dreams, which he kept stored away deep in his mind, not wanting anyone to know about them. It wasn't because he was ashamed, that wasn't it, nor was it because he had yet to identify these feelings and share them with his friends. No, it was mainly that because the perceived object of his affections could potentially use his thoughts against him, before ultimately rejecting him. No, there was no way in Merlin that someone as complex, handsome, dark, or misunderstood as Professor Severus Snape could ever condescend to look at someone as lowly in comparison as Harry James Potter. That's what he kept telling himself, however, he could not mistake the look in his potions professor's eyes, when the man kept right on looking at him, as if he was some rare, or unknown, potions ingredient, one that he wanted to explore beyond anything. And although the thought intrigued Harry to no end, it also filled him with fear, for fear of the unknown, he came to realize, was a constant in his young life.