about it, he might attempt to make you help him get it.'
'He could do that?' Harry asked, aghast at the very idea.
Snape lifted one eyebrow. 'You do recall being in the possession of the Bloody Baron, do you not?'
Harry nodded, and then, 'Oh.'
'Yes. 'Oh' pretty much covers it.'
'How do I keep him out then?'
With the tiniest lift to the corner of his lip, Snape said, 'I will teach you. But you must do your utmost to learn everything I show you. It is very important you keep the Dark Lord out of your thoughts and your dreams. These next few weeks, we will focus your Occlumency training on forming a barrier for your dreaming mind. You'll need to lie down for this, I'm afraid.'
Wrinkling his nose at the state of Snape's office floor, Harry just sighed and stood, pushing back his chair. With a quick hand on his shoulder, Snape stopped him from lying down, and instead, waved his wand in two smooth movements, conjuring a low cot, complete with pillow and blanket.
'Brilliant!'
'Indeed.' Snape jutted his chin at the cot. 'Go on and lie down; it won't bite.' Grinning, Harry laid down on the cot, and when he was comfortable, Snape continued to instruct him. 'Close your eyes and listen to the sound of my voice. Listen only to my voice; nothing else can penetrate your consciousness. Clear your mind of all things, and hear only my voice. Hear each word as I say it, and understand all that I say. Your mind is a blank slate, a field of white, and I will write upon it all I want you to hear, and to know. . . .'
Snape continued speaking, using a low, soothing tone he usually reserved for calming Harry from his nightmares, as far as Harry could tell. But this was nice, being able to listen without being caught up in images and scenes -- like his nightmares -- that scared the bejeezus out of him. He rarely told Snape what his bad dreams were about, feeling they were far too personal to share, but Snape came and soothed him back to sleep anyway, and had done so, ever since that time he'd found Harry in the washroom with Gaius Avery.
With a jolt, Harry realized he was not keeping a white, clear field, but was starting to think about bad things he never wanted to think about. Hoping Snape had not caught him faltering, Harry cut off his thoughts. He listened to the professor's cool, relaxing tones again and forced himself to obey each of Snape's commands: tense or relax this or that muscle; clear this or that thought.
They went through several more exercises, but Snape did not try to access his mind again. Eventually, the lesson was over, and Harry was allowed to get up from the cot.
'Return tomorrow evening at the same time, Mr. Potter,' Snape instructed. 'Tonight, at bedtime, I want you to practice the exercise I just put you through. Can you do that?'
Harry nodded, recalling the specific orders. 'Yes, sir.'
'Good. Let me know tomorrow if you had any problems getting to sleep.'
He didn't have to say he would know if Harry suffered any nightmares; they both already knew that he probably would, and if he did, Snape would know, and he would be there to help Harry through it.
If Harry wasn't so embarrassed about the situation, he would have been inclined to feel very fondly of Snape for being there for him when he was afraid in the middle of the night, when no one else had ever been, at least not in his memory.
'I will, sir. Thank you.'
'Have you finished your essays yet?'
Harry gave him an incredulous look. 'For when schools starts again? That's almost two whole weeks away!'
'I am aware of the school calendar, Mr. Potter. But I take it you have not yet begun your holiday work.'
'Um, no, sir. Not yet.' It was on the tip of his tongue to remind Snape that he'd been reading the book on Occlumency like mad, and hadn't had extra time for regular school work, but Snape already knew that, and the only thing a reminder would do is make the professor more snappish. 'I'll start my essays tomorrow,' he promised instead.
'Good.' Snape nodded. 'You are dismissed.'
'Thank you, sir.' Harry hesitated before leaving, however, biting his lip.
Snape had gone back around his desk and sat in his chair where he shuffled some papers for what appeared to be a grading session. He peered over at Harry from under his heavy brows. 'Is there something else?'
'I, er, well . . . well . . .'
'Deep subject?'
Harry cracked a smile. 'Er, no, sir, but I thought, well, maybe if you weren't too busy . . . er, we could, um . . .'
'Spit it out, Harry, I haven't all day.'
The use of his first name relaxed him, as he supposed Snape knew it would, and he smiled a bit more. 'I thought, we haven't looked at pictures for a while . . .'
'And you would like to, this evening? Don't you have some chess matches to--' Snape cut himself off, and actually seemed to blush, even as Harry himself colored with embarrassment.
'Um, I don't really know how to play, sir,' he said quietly.
Staring at his desk top, Snape nodded slowly, then lifted his head till his gaze met Harry's. 'Harry, I . . . I apologize, for bringing that up. It was needlessly cruel.'
Harry shrugged. They were past lessons, now, and into more casual waters, but he was still nervous around
