The following week, as he arrived at the dungeons for his Remedial Potions class, Harry found Kai sitting at Snape's desk, drawing on a parchment sheet that covered the desktop.

Snape invited Harry to come in and sit on a chair facing Kai.

"Potter," said Snape, standing in front of his two students, "I believe the time has come for us to move up to another stage of your learning, so that you can be more useful to Hogwarts and the entire Wizarding World.

Harry regarded him with interest.

"Mr Clauschee and I have been working together for some months now," continued Snape. Kai raised his eyes to look at Harry, then at Snape. "Our project is to transform the Navajo ritual of the Pollen Path into a healing potion. This project - we call it Sandpotion - shall be kept absolutely secret. If anyone asks you about your activities here, you must inform them that you are still taking Remedial Potions."

"Right."

"Very well. The whole concept derives from the discovery, by the Navajos, of the magical power of pollen. The pollen is a component of great healing powers. The healing promoted by pollen is based on the restoration of the inner harmony of the human being. The Sand Painting Ceremony aims to enhance those healing powers to a maximum extent."

"You want to create a potion with those same powers... Seems interesting."

Kai stood up, looking from Snape to Harry and back to Snape. "I'm so happy you're going to work together! The Fire God and the Bat protect you. Together, you'll be able to defeat the Winter Thunder.

Harry gave a sardonic smile. "The Bat is him," he said, gesturing to Snape.

"Potter..."

The professor looked at him menacingly.

Kai shook his head. "No, Harry," he said. "It was the Bat that gave to you that Invisibility Cloak you used to get to the Department of Mysteries. He's your protector. And the Fire God helps professor Snape in his potions. The Fire God governs the colour black. He dresses only in black, and uses fire to make people obey him. The Fire God and the Bat went to offer the prayer stick to Winter Thunder. The Fire God threw down his fire drill with great force and so much smoke filled the house that it became completely dark. Then Winter Thunder saw that he was facing a powerful god, and decided to propose a deal."

"Kai, Voldemort isn't Winter Thunder," Harry said. "He won't make any deal with us."

"That's what professor Snape keeps saying to me. I believe him; I won't say that he's wrong. Maybe that's because there are some things in your culture that I don't understand very well. You make it sound like he's bad and he can't change that. Like he couldn't... what's the word?"

"Redeem himself?" suggested Snape.

"Yes. My people believe that redemption is possible for everyone!"

Snape and Harry exchanged meaningful looks, with the understanding of those who had already faced Evil, and knew that to hope for redemption is naïve and futile. Kai frowned, a little annoyed.

Gradually, it became apparent that Harry was a new person, that he had gained new heart. In the Occlumency lessons, Dumbledore was extremely satisfied with his pupil's performance. Dumbledore's gentleness didn't irritate Harry anymore. He had more serious things to worry about. One day, Dumbledore told him that he had progressed so much that the time had come for him to start studying Legilimency.

He was also training his Quidditch team with more effort and enthusiasm than ever.

At the end of one of their practices, Draco -now the Slytherin Captain - and his cohorts had approached the Gryffindors with their usual bullying. Harry pretended not to see them and kept walking, under the enraged gaze of Ron, who wanted to fight the Slytherins.

"You're a poof," Ron had said.

Harry replied with his ugliest grimace.

That night, lying on his bed in the Gryffindor dormitory, Harry thought about Ron's words. He knew that Ron's insult wasn't meant be taken at face value. He knew Ron was annoyed because, after that first field battle of Slytherin against Gryffindor, Hermione had become closer to Axel. Every time there was a problem, Hermione would call the Head Boy, instead of asking the help of the other Gryffindor Prefect. Axel was a good student, intelligent and polite. Ron was being bitten by the green-eyed monster. Anyway, it was true that, since the beginning of the year, Harry had been wondering if he wasn't really a poof. After all, he wasn't very interested in girls. Whenever he had a crush, it was just the way it had been with Cho: he would find the girl pretty and think how good it would be if people saw them together. But when he had to take action, he would simply lose interest.

Furthermore, for some time now he had come to realise that he liked to watch men. Of all ages! Now that Sirius was gone, he could confess to himself that he had had a crush on Sirius. He had been so handsome! Since Sirius's death, however, Harry hadn't taken interest in anyone.

Snape was arousing feelings in him that Harry didn't know how to handle and couldn't even understand. Snape's reaction after his suicidal attempt, and the flight back to Hogwarts on the Thestral... No, thought Harry. Not Snape. Anyone but Snape. Notwithstanding, his body was saying a different thing, and in an insistent way.

The first days, Snape, Kai and Harry had worked only on theoretical research about the components of the Navajo Healing Ceremony, in an effort to formulate a recipe. In other words, no practical work at the cauldron. It had been an interesting and even enjoyable phase, despite Harry's lack of interest in potions and potions research.

After a couple of weeks, they had listed the ingredients and the order in which they should be added - always following the original sequence of the Navajo ritual.

Except for the snakes' scales, the ingredients to be used in the Sandpotion were very different from those of any other potion that Harry had prepared so far: flower pollen, sand, cornmeal, squash, tobacco, beans, cactus, yucca and cedar pieces, ochre, bark, roots, birds' feathers, stones (gypsum, red sandstone), oak and cedar charcoal. All of them were cheap and easy to find. And even better: easy to handle and not dangerous in any way.

However, there were two problems. First: they would have to find an ideal liquid medium for the potion, since all those ingredients were quite solid. Second: how would the potion be tested? In animals? Harry didn't even know if animals got depressed? And how do you know if they were cured from depression or not? And would it be necessary to induce depression in an animal? Snape had said that there were many potions capable of inducing depression, that this wouldn't be a problem, but that animals react very differently from human beings, so those tests would be useless.

Snape had also said to Kai and Harry that they shouldn't worry about the second problem, assuring them that he would find a way to test the potion - Harry had gazed at Snape with a suspicious look then; would he dare to use human guinea pigs? - and that they should focus on the search for the ideal liquid base.

Kai said it wouldn't be good if the potion ended up fermenting. The whole concept was that the potion should transmit vital energies; while, in Kai's opinion, fermentation implied decomposition, or, in other words, death. Therefore, pure water wouldn't be a good medium, for it didn't prevent the decaying of the components, especially the vegetal ones.

Hence, Snape had started to test different media. Sometimes Kai and Harry did only mechanical tasks, like chopping, grinding, slicing, and squeezing ingredients. Other times, Snape would ask them to do research. Often Kai wouldn't be found in the laboratory: Snape had sent him to the library to research or to do his homework.

One day, Snape asked Harry to study a book of Navajo potions while he and Kai dealt with the ingredients and the cauldron. Harry should take some notes on possible liquid media for the potion.

At first, Harry felt a bit excluded. Since he had started to think of Snape in a different way, Harry preferred to work near the professor whenever he could. Gradually, however, some details in the book grabbed his attention, and soon he was totally absorbed in his reading.

"Hey, listen... This Mormon Tea... wouldn't it be a good base for the potion?" he asked, with a sudden spark in his eyes.

"Mormon tea?" asked Snape, intrigued.

Kai stopped stirring the cauldron and dropped the spoon. "That's it! Awesome! Why didn't I think of this before?" He approached Harry, beaming. "Ephedra!"

"Would you be as kind as to explain why you think it would be a good idea to use Ephedra?" said Snape, crossly.

"It's a tea prepared from one of two kinds of bushes that grow at the higher levels of the mountains to get away from sheep," Kai explained.

Harry frowned at the wording. "Bushes running away from sheep?"

But Kai didn't hear him. "There's the yellowish green and the purplish green. The plants should be dried in the sun and then boiled for ten, fifteen minutes to make the tea."

"This book says the tea belongs to the Ephedra family," Harry added. "And that all the animals eat it, because it's very healthy."

"This tea is one of the symbols of our culture. We believe it was made by the gods," concluded Kai.

"And how will we obtain that... divine herb?" Snape asked.

"I can ask my father to order some from my uncle."

"Very well, Kai. Please do this," Snape said. "By the way, wouldn't you order the Datura too?"

Kai hid his mouth with his hand, in a childish gesture. "I forgot!"

Snape grimaced. "You don't want me to take points from my own House, do you?

"No, sir! I won't forget it again! It's just that, you know, I can't use your owls... My people see owls as death omens. And only yesterday my crow returned from his last errand."

Kai seemed very ashamed. Harry couldn't help smiling at the Slytherins.

Three days later, Kai's crow arrived with the ingredients. Now they had already the base, the Ephedra Tea, and they could start adding the ingredients in the order in which they appeared in the original ceremony. At each step, Snape checked the potion properties with colour indicators. At each class, they progressed to another stage.

Now Harry and Snape had progressed to a shy companionship. And when their arms, or hands, or an arm and a hand touched each other unintentionally, Harry not only didn't squirm, but also subtly tried to prolong the contact.

At night, when he wanked under the blankets in his four-poster bed, it was Snape's image in his mind.

He tried not to think about this much, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't stop thinking of Snape, and he didn't understand why.

One evening in another Remedial Potions class a few days before Christmas holidays, he was stirring the cauldron when Snape took the spoon from his hand to show him how he was supposed to move it. Snape returned the spoon to Harry and grabbed his arm from behind to correct his posture. In a mad impulse, Harry leaned his head against the professor's chest.

For an instant, perhaps too surprised to react, Snape didn't move. After that, in a perfectly controlled movement, the Potions master took the spoon from Harry's hand again and leaned it against the inside of the cauldron. Then he grasped both Harry's shoulders firmly and spun the student around to face him.

"Potter. What's going on in your foolish mind?"

Harry's expression revealed a blend of desire, despair and terror. He was totally paralysed. Snape's stare was so intense that seemed to pierce him.

"Forget it," the professor whispered, in his most dangerous tone. "It won't happen, can you understand? This fantasy in your mind, it is not real. I am a former Death Eater. Do you know the things I did when I was a Death Eater? Do you have any idea?"

Harry shook his head, quivering.

"You don't. Of course you don't. If you did, you would be far away from here. You would try to keep as far away as you could from the ugly bat."

"I don't..."

"Quiet, Potter. I haven't given you permission to speak. Very well. When I was a Death Eater, Potter, I tortured people. I was very good at it! My Lord always called me, when he wanted to extract some information from the victim, when he didn't want the victim dead. What excited me the most wasn't killing the victim; it was making them suffer. Physically and psychologically. I could easily have an orgasm seeing the victim writhing, yelling, convulsing... or merely widening their eyes in sheer panic!"

Feeling sick, Harry grimaced.

Snape went on, implacable. "Do you think that this could be overcome? That this is something you can forget, and get on living without? Oh, you are so wrong. That same pleasure that I felt, I can feel it now, and there's no difference. I like to inflict pain. This is called sadism, Potter. I am a sadist. But you... you are the Gryffindor Golden Boy. You are the Headmaster's favourite. If I touch one hair in your head, I'll be fired. Don't delude yourself. I would love to see you screaming in pain. I would love to crush you under my boots... I would tread heavily, and preferably with a spiked boot."

Unable to look at Snape anymore, Harry lowered his eyes.

"Go away," Snape said in a low tone and a broken voice. "And remember the old saying: 'beware what you wish for, it just might come true'. Consider what I've said and decide if you really want to continue to work with me. Don't return here until you know what you want. If, for some obscure reason, you want to learn more about potions and wish to contribute to the mental health of the Wizarding World, remove these fantasies from your mind. There won't be anything between us besides a normal professor/student relationship. Do you understand?"

Harry didn't even answer the question. Snape pushed him slightly towards the door, and he let himself be prodded out. He left the laboratory without saying a word.

Harry ran into the nearest bathroom and threw up. Then he returned to his dormitory and felt sick and miserable all night long. During the rest of the week, he behaved like an automaton, lacking energy to do anything.

Why? Why did he have to say all that? Maybe it was true. It must be true; otherwise he wouldn't say it, would he? Anyway, the Snape that Harry had seen in Dumbledore's mind, well, he was paying for his sins, wasn't he? If he was spying for the Order now, if he worked on potions to help people, didn't all that work have a meaning either?

Harry didn't know, he didn't know anything. He knew only that his whole world had crumbled.

Ron didn't notice anything different about Harry's demeanour. As always, the Prefect was too concerned with his own problems. When classes were interrupted for the holidays, Ron went to The Burrow; Harry preferred to stay at Hogwarts. Before going to her parents' house, Hermione had tried to make him talk, but Harry had retreated into his shell. On the other hand, Kai, who had also stayed at Hogwarts, didn't want to leave him alone. The boy seemed obsessed with him, and kept insisting that Harry should receive a Healing Ceremony and that he, Kai, was entitled to be his chanter - in other words, explained Kai, to guide him through the ritual.

Christmas day went by like every year in Hogwarts: Flitwick would garnish the tree, Dumbledore would nettle everyone, Snape would make a grumpier face than ever.

After the excitement of the feasts and presents, Kai resumed his campaign. "Inside the mandala, you'll be able to understand what's happening with you and with all those things that are worrying you: your enemies, your allies, the place where you live - everything will be represented inside the mandala. The mandala will help you to absorb their power, and to reach a stage of spiritual harmony, which we call hozho. And you'll find your place in the middle of all those things. I can't explain very well what it's like, Harry, but it's more or less like that. I could tell you the holy words, but I think I should say them only during the ritual."

Harry only shook his head, incredulous.

The students who had spent the holidays with their families returned, and classes started again. When, for the umpteenth time, during breakfast at the Great Hall, Kai approached him with the same suggestion, Harry burst out, "All right! You are worse than the plague, do you know that? I'll do anything for you to leave me alone!"

Kai's triumphant smile made him fear that he had been trapped. "Great, Harry. The best we can do is to perform the ceremony on Saturday. I can make the painting on Saturday evening, and you and I will have to spend a good part of the night there."

"Er... I didn't understand a word. Where are you going to make this painting?"

"I heard about a certain Room of Requirement that..."

"Perfect. It's the perfect place, Kai. You do what you have to do there in the evening and later I'll join you. What will I have to do?"

"Nothing," Kai answered. "You just have to enter the mandala when I tell you to, stay put and focus on the... oh!"

"What is it?"

"It's just that... my people know the symbols, they are used to them, and I think that's the reason why the ritual works for them. But you don't know the symbols. I think that I'll have to explain them to you before: to tell the story of each one of them, to explain their meaning."

Harry sighed. "Are you going to work in... Snape's laboratory today?"

"I'm going to talk to Professor Snape; I'm sure he'll let me go talk to you if I explain..."

Harry didn't want to talk about anything related to Snape. He didn't even want to think about it. So he interrupted Kai. "All right, let's meet at six in the Room of Requirement. That way, you can take a look at the place."

"Okay!"

"The centre of the mandala is the Place of Emergence. There will always be a deep lake, a fire, the home of the gods or the main hero at the centre of the painting. Around this central point, the Sacred Powers that will be invoked are placed in the four directions: North, South, East and West. These Powers can be the Wind People, the Star People, The Cactus People, The Buffalo People... I will explain these powers to you one by one later, Harry. The subsidiary powers are placed in the Northeast, Norwest, Southeast and Southwest. Usually those are the four sacred plants: corn, beans, squash, and tobacco."

Kai had brought with him some books on Navajo mythology, full of pictures.

"Look," he continued, showing a mandala picture to Harry. "The Sacred Powers always comes in groups of four, around the mandala. The more groups of four the mandala contains, the more power is involved. And here, surrounding the picture, there's usually a protection element, like the Rainbow Guardian. There's always an opening to the East, with two guardians to protect the entrance. Those guardians can be two serpents, two bears, two insects, or other small creatures."

"And what are these mounds?" Harry asked, pointing to circles placed outside of the main area of the painting.

"These are the four sacred mountains. They are represented by circles, each one with its own colour, each one placed in its own direction."

And Kai went on explaining the symbols of his culture to Harry during the next two hours.

On Saturday, when Harry walked in the Room of Requirement, his jaw almost dropped. The Room had been transformed into a round shaped hogan - like an immense clay patty. Kai, with his velveteen shirt, silver and turquoise jewellery and his body ritualistically painted, was chanting in his native language and throwing pollen over a beautiful mandala painted on the floor.

There were stone benches scattered through the hogan. Harry sat on one of them and watched for some minutes, enthralled. The painting was made with red, blue, yellow, black and white sand. Some bark receptacles spread around the painting hinted that it was from there that Kai had taken the coloured sand. There was also a wooden weaving-batten with some coloured sand particles sprinkled onto the surface. Probably Kai had used it to give shape to the images.

Kai approached Harry and held his hand, leading him in a circle around the mandala and explaining each figure. Afterwards, they entered into the centre of the mandala and Kai helped Harry to sit in the right position. Chanting, Kai moistened his palms with herb medicine and began to press them to various parts of Harry's body; then he pressed the corresponding parts of his own body. At the same time, Kai voiced the sound symbolism associated with the chant.

Gradually, the mandala images imprinted themselves on Harry's mind, and he could see them even if he closed his eyes. Suddenly, those symbols began to make sense to him, relating to his life. For him, the four mountains symbolised the four Houses: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin. In the Power figures - Cloud People, Star People, Thunder People, Cyclops People - Harry didn't identify exactly persons, but powers. Some of them he already knew and dominated, while others were still unknown to him. In the Star People, for instance, he perceived a sexual motif. The Thunder People, on the other hand, reminded him of all the powers that he couldn't control yet. Because of its lightning shape, it also reminded him of his scar.

Each one of those figures began to imprint in his body, mind and soul. He was not only acquiring a new sense, but also having all the others enhanced. And, above all, Harry was beginning to feel integrated.

When the ceremony ended, Kai led him outside the mandala and handed him a canteen. Harry swayed. Completely dizzy, he tried to drink the water to see if he could feel the ground under his feet, if he could regain contact with reality - or, at least, with reality as he knew it. But the water... was that water? Even the water didn't taste the same.

Kai watched him with a worried expression, and made him sit on one bench. "Harry? Are you okay? Talk to me!"

"Uh... The castle... ah. Nothing makes sense anymore, Kai. The words don't make sense anymore. I want to laugh, to yell, or to howl!

"But Harry, you're talking to me, and your words make sense. Take it easy. Don't panic. Now I need to erase the painting. It's part of the ritual. Don't move. I'll come back in a minute."

As in a dream, Harry heard Kai chanting, and saw him gathering the sands upon a buckskin. Then Kai went out. Harry knew that Kai would have to walk east, then south, then west and north scattering the sands to all the directions from whence they came.

Alone, Harry tried to control his feelings and sensations. Everything was too intense: the images, the scents, the noises, the textures. And it felt like a million people were living inside him.

A few minutes later, Kai returned bringing professor Snape with him. Both approached Harry with a concerned look. Kai sat beside Harry and tried to embrace him, but Harry squirmed and retreated.

"I'm s-sorry. It's just that... everything seems... too much."

"Potter," Snape spoke low, "describe your feelings."

"All my senses seem to be heightened, enhanced to the point of madness. I feel like I'm going to explode. But it's not just that. It's like... the entire castle... is inside my body. I feel each piece of it, each wall, each particle of each wall..."

Kai got up suddenly. "Now the castle is like a hogan to him!"

The boy's sharp voice made Harry shudder.

"Kai," Snape said, "speak low and don't move too fast, otherwise you will upset him. That's... fantastic. Incredible. It remains to be known how long will it last."

Harry made a horrible grimace. "Please, make it stop. I can't take it much longer!"

"Easy, Potter. If it doesn't stop, soon you'll get used to it. I suspect it's like when you change your glasses to one with a higher magnification: everything seems too big, or too distinct... or a level terrain seems sloped, if you have astigmatism. In one or two days, you'll get used to it. However, your five senses are undergoing a similar phenomenon. It must be an unbearable torture."

Kai came near to Snape and held his hand. "What can we do to help him?"

"I think it's advisable that both of you sleep here tonight. It's midnight. I'm going to give him a Sleeping Potion. You stay here, just in case he wakes up in the middle of the night in panic or if he needs something. If you have any problems, call me."

Snape had barely finished speaking when a flagon appeared in his hands.

"This Room is wicked!" Kai exclaimed.

Snape opened the flagon, approached Harry and handed it to him. "Drink it all. It will make you sleep for eight hours. When you wake up, you should be feeling better. I will be here."

And he was. When Harry opened his eyes, he saw an almost exact reproduction of his Gryffindor dormitory as cloned by the Room of Requirement, and the Head of Slytherin at the edge of his bed.

The Castle didn't disturb him as intensely as before. But it was there, present, palpable, inside him.

Harry sat up, slowly. Kai was still sleeping, in a bed some feet away from him. He looked at the Potions master.

"Potter? Are you feeling better?"

"It's weird. It's still here. But it's not so terrible anymore."

"You are getting familiarised to the sensation. Nonetheless, I'm going to ask the Headmaster to excuse you from your classes today. You must rest. And feed yourself properly."

Now that was getting funny: Snape giving him advice, as if he were Head of his House. No. As if he were his... mother. Harry had never had someone who treated him that way. Except for Molly, of course.

Snape. That was Snape. Suddenly, everything fitted into place. It wasn't only the Castle that lived inside Harry: the people themselves inhabited him; there were connections between them, and all of them were connected to Harry. And Snape, Snape was, had always been his protector. What a fool he was, that he had not realised that since the beginning!

"What is it, Potter? Are you unwell?"

"Oh. I'm sorry... It's just that... I'm not used to this yet. You..."

"What?"

"I'm not sure. Please... I want to work with you again. On the Sandpotion."

"This is not the proper time to discuss this issue. You are under stress. Come to my laboratory next Tuesday, at six o'clock."

Snape went near to Kai's bed and shook the boy gently by his shoulders.

Kai opened his eyes and made a grimace. "Uh?"

"Breakfast time, slothful brat. Potter is excused from his classes today, but you are not. I don't think it's advisable for Potter to have his breakfast in the Great Hall. Too much commotion around there. So brush your teeth and take your breakfast here. After that, you should go to your... Transfigurations class? Yes, your first class is Transfigurations today. And Potter... will take a walk outdoors. Strange as it might be, it's not cold today. It's a nice sunny day and the birds are chirping."

Snape arched an eyebrow and turned around to leave. Harry couldn't help laughing. The world was really getting weirder and weirder since he had gone in and out of that Navajo mandala.

Sitting at a breakfast table in the Room of Requirement, Kai and Harry gobbled the muffins and the biscuits.

"Yay, I love cookies," Kai exclaimed.

"You mean biscuits," said Harry.

"Whatever. In American, biscuits are a different thing. Like scones, you know. My housemates are always correcting me. 'Kai, it's fringe, not bangs', 'Kai, it's jumper, not sweater'. Ugh. I'm so tired of this."

"Snape corrects you too?"

"Hm, I don't think he minds my American English. He'd rather correct my mistakes in Potions."

"Is Snape always like that with the Slytherins? Paternal?" Harry asked, pouring some tea into his cup.

"Oh no! He pretends to be cold and aloof. But whenever we need him, he's there to help us."

"Well, then it's not very different... Except that he doesn't humiliate you in class, doesn't take points and doesn't bully you."

"Of course not! He's the Head of Slytherin, and he has to defend us. Well, sometimes he gets mad at us. Then things get pretty ugly. But it doesn't happen very often."

Harry sighed and sipped his tea.

"You two have strong personalities," said Kai, observing the schoolmate. "But the Bat and the Fire God protect you, then you'll end up getting along well."

"Do you really think so?"

Kai, who had just stuffed an entire muffin in his mouth, nodded.

Wandering near Hagrid's hut, Harry tried to sort his thoughts. He felt better outside the castle. That feeling of being linked to every molecule of the castle and to every cell of its inhabitants was not so strong there.

So, that was Dumbledore's secret. (Or one of his secrets.)

But Harry didn't want to think of Dumbledore now. He wanted to understand his own feelings for Snape. Or rather... no, he didn't need to understand that. He already knew. He knew that he had fallen for Snape. He couldn't run from the truth anymore. And he knew that Snape wasn't, by any means, indifferent to him. With that new awareness, which he acquired inside the mandala, everything was much clearer. The fact was that Snape had always protected him, even when he hated him. And now it was evident: perhaps Snape still hated him, but somehow he desired him too. Every touch, every reaction from the Potions master showed that. And the professor's extreme reaction when he had made that speech about being a sadist, well, that must have been a kind of defence against him, against those feelings.

Why would Snape want to protect himself from Harry was a mystery that Harry couldn't begin to fathom. Harry didn't have any experience in romantic or sexual subjects, and the enhancement of his perceptions didn't solve this problem. His intuition told him that Snape desired him too, but he couldn't understand the reasons behind Snape's behaviour.

Harry laughed at himself. What was he thinking? Of course Snape would want to defend himself from those feelings. There were a gazillion motives for that. For starters, if he had any involvement with a student, he would get in trouble. Big trouble. So... did that mean that Snape had lied to turn him away?

There was no doubt that Snape was a sadist. Probably he hadn't lied when he had spoken about his past as a Death Eater. However, the guilt, the inescapable guilt was also there, all the time. Otherwise, why had he chosen to become a spy, to suffer in Voldemort's hands? For hate of Voldemort, or for a strange and reluctant love for the Light forces? Perhaps that too, but a sense of debt and guilt seemed to fit Snape's personality best.

Ultimately, Harry didn't understand all of Snape's motives. But he wanted to find out. And he wanted to be near Snape.

At lunchtime, Harry decided to go back to the castle. He didn't want to have lunch with everyone in the Great Hall, but he wanted to talk with Hermione. As he thought about that, he knew instantly where she was: in the Astronomy Tower. And... she was not alone.

Harry's mind wasn't a Marauder's Map, in which he could identify every person in every place. What he saw didn't depend on his will, but on a special bond that he had with every person. He knew that there was someone with Hermione, and someone that wasn't close to him. But it seemed a nice, trustworthy person that really liked Hermione.

What a funny game: it wasn't difficult to decipher the charade now. Probably Hermione was with Axel.

Harry wouldn't go there. He didn't want to intrude. He would talk to Hermione after classes.

"Harry! That's wonderful!" exclaimed Hermione, when Harry finished telling her the entire mandala episode, omitting the references to Snape. "That Navajo ritual, I would never imagine that it could have such a strong effect."

"I guess nobody would. Kai himself said he's never seen a reaction like mine. You know how it is: with me, everything has to be different..."

"So you think Dumbledore has this same power that you've acquired? A close bond to Hogwarts castle?"

"I'm sure of it. I can feel people's energies. And I feel that Dumbledore can feel them too."

"Will you tell him that now you have this power?"

"He already knows, Hermione. He already knows."

On Tuesday evening, Snape received him in his laboratory, as agreed, and promptly asked, "Have you pondered what I said to you one month ago? What's your decision?"

"I accept your conditions. I would like to contribute to this potion."

"Very well, Mr Potter. Then brace yourself. You'll have to listen to an extensive report of everything I have done in all the days when you weren't here."

They resumed their work together, almost always in silence. Harry would do his best not to get too close to his teacher. With all that time spent together and his new perception of everything that surrounded him, more and more Harry was capable of reading Snape's thoughts, of knowing, always, which ingredient or utensil the professor needed at a given moment, or whether it was time to lower or raise the heat. Some weeks later, they were working together in perfect synchrony.

Not that it was easy for Harry to resist the closeness with the object of his desires. Sometimes he got distracted and kept staring at the professor, at his skilful gestures, at his focused manners. And sometimes he would catch Snape staring at him with piercing eyes. When their eyes met, oh, it was so hard. Harry didn't even try to conceal how much it affected him.

The potion was reaching the final stage. It was time to do tests and to perform the necessary corrections. Snape had never told Harry who his guinea pigs were. In each class, the teacher would say - "we need to diminish the amount of gypsum, and add more tobacco". Or: "we still haven't attained the ideal point. Perhaps there are two or more ingredients in conflict. Let's make samples with different combinations." And Harry asked himself who had tasted all those samples.

Harry's new powers also helped him in his studies. Hermione noticed that he was more attentive to everything going on around him. The castle seemed to tell him the answers all the time - he could feel it through the air, the damp, the ground. It was rather weird, but Harry would not complain about that!

On that Saturday, Harry finished his homework early in the afternoon and, in order to relax, decided to take his Firebolt and fly outdoors.

The wind was cold and biting, but Harry didn't care. He began to make loops, rolls, risky curves, and vertiginous dives. He almost reached the Forbidden Forest, but he withdrew and turned to circle the lake. He flew around the castle towers, criss-crossing. When he circled the Astronomy Tower, he glimpsed two other brooms flying over the Quidditch pitch. Curious, he decided to get nearer.

The two flyers fought over a ball. Judging by their movements, it wasn't the Snitch. It must be a mere Quaffle. He couldn't see them yet, but... he felt. He felt clearly that one of the flyers was Snape. Only when he was at less than 200 feet away he could discern the other flyer: Montague. The boy who should now be in his seventh year, but who had been sent on a trip nobody knows where through the pipes, by Fred and George, and who had suffered serious brain damage. Sometimes Harry met him roaming through the halls, looking lost. People said that Snape and Madame Pomfrey were doing their best to help him to recover, so that he would be up to attending classes in the second term - as a sixth-year, to take up from where he had stopped. In the same year as Harry.

Seeing him approaching, Snape and Montague stopped fighting for the Quaffle and looked in his direction.

"Do you remember Potter, Montague?"

"Harry Potter! Who wouldn't remember Harry Potter?"

Harry grimaced. "Hello, Montague. It seems you're in shape!"

"Wanna test me? Professor, would you throw the Snitch for us?

Snape looked at Harry, who nodded firmly at him. Then he produced a Snitch from his pocket and set it loose. Harry raced after it, and Montague zoomed like a jet behind him. Snape went down to sit in the stands.

The former Slytherin Captain and the current Gryffindor Captain duelled for more than twenty minutes until Montague tried to shift Harry with his body and lost his balance, allowing the Gryffindor to bypass him and catch the Snitch.

But Montague didn't seem disappointed. On the contrary.

"Oh, but I almost caught you. You know, I've never been a Seeker, I am a Chaser. I would like to see you playing with a Quaffle with me." Montague turned to Snape. "Could Potter come and practice with us more often?"

Harry felt moved. That naïve, enthusiastic boy wasn't the same Montague that he had known - a real bulldog. He felt guilty. Perhaps if he, Ron and Hermione had reported immediately what had happened to the boy, it would have been possible to heal him? No one would ever know. They had been too selfish to think of their schoolmate. They had never thought of him as a schoolmate, but as a Slytherin. And Slytherins weren't schoolmates. Now Harry thought differently.

During the long silence in which these thoughts crossed Harry's mind, Snape observed him. "Potter has many obligations. Perhaps he..."

"Sure! I'll come. I mean, if the professor agrees," Harry added hastily.

In the look that Snape gave him at that moment, there was something absolutely new to Harry: thankfulness.

"But I saw you practising with the former Slytherin Captain!" yelled Ron.

"And so what?" Harry shrugged. "He's not playing this term."

"But they say he'll be back as soon as he recovers."

"Ron, this guy has failed his year because of a prank of your brothers'! He has failed his year and lost his memory. He has lost virtually everything! Snape told me..."

"Ah-hah! 'Snape told me'. That's all I hear now, Snape this, Snape that. Snape's still a greasy git, a..."

"Ron, Snape is not the subject now."

"But the problem is just that, you only get along with Slytherins now. Snape, Malfoy..."

"What does Malfoy have to do with this?"

"He's always on your neck, but you never fight him. You're always protecting him."

"Protecting Malfoy? Are you mad? I'm talking about Montague, Ron. Snape and Pomfrey practically had to teach him how to speak and walk again. Now he's almost back to normal, but he's not the same person!"

"Great, because he was a piece of shit. So my brothers did a great favour to the Wizarding World," said Ron, stomping his foot once.

Harry widened his eyes. "Ron, what are you saying? Do you know who thinks like this? Voldemort's followers. The Death Eaters!

"Really? I don't know. You tell me, since now you only hang around with their kind."

"Go fuck yourself, okay?"

"Hermione, are you and Axel... dating?" asked Harry, a bit awkwardly.

Hermione gave him a flashing smile. Harry had never found her so beautiful.

"Sshhh. Yes, we are, but it's a secret. We don't want people bothering us. You know how it is, he's a Slytherin and I'm a Gryffindor."

"Oh, Hermione, I'm so happy for you! Axel is a nice guy. And I'm sick and tired of this feud with Slytherin. That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Ron's not speaking to me again. He insists that now I only talk with Slytherins."

"You?"

"Yeah. You know how stubborn Ron can be. He has seen me practising Quidditch with Montague."

"Really, Harry? That's very kind of you. I mean, helping Montague to recover."

"But Ron doesn't understand that."

"Ron is a by-product of this rotten system. Everything is wrong, Harry. We shouldn't be sorted by Houses; this only fosters animosity between us. We should be united to fight against Voldemort, and not be divided in any way. And the Slytherins are marginalised. Not everybody in Slytherin supports Voldemort. As a matter of fact, I think that only a minority has some connection with the Death Eaters. But when we marginalise them, we push them towards the Death Eaters!"

"It's true, Hermione. It's all wrong."

That same night, while thinking about Montague and Ron, Harry made a very serious decision: the next weekend, he would pay a call to Fred and George's apartment in Hogsmeade.

The twins greeted Harry enthusiastically, and took him to their laboratory to show him their new creations.

"Look, Harry, this is the Post-Modernist Babbling Mix. The guy eats a bit of this mash and he begins to speak like an academic, an art critic, a decadent poseur, or any of those pretentious geeks out there. It's very useful when you want to impress those idiots who don't respect you if you don't use their jargon," explained George. "Not that we, personally, would bother with them."

Harry looked at everything, fascinated. They were drinking Firewhisky and no one's glass was ever empty. By his third glass, Harry was drunk enough to gather the courage to say, "Boys, I want to have a serious talk with you."

"Are you going to get married?" Fred joked.

"No, mates. It's serious. It's about Montague."

"That bulldog that we sent for a walk through the pipes? What's with him?" asked Fred.

"Would you get mad if I told Snape that it was you, and what you did?"

"What would you do that for?" George asked, puzzled.

"Montague's still not well. Perhaps there's a way to help him to recover."

"Ouch. Harry the guardian angel." Fred scowled. "That git was a pile of shit! Why do you want to help him?"

"Listen, I didn't come here to be criticised."

"Okay, Harry-kins. We love you and don't wanna fight with you." Fred kissed Harry's cheeks. "He can tell, can't he, George?"

"We have left Hogwarts, they can do nothing against us. And if Snape decides to come here to bully us, we have a trump card against him," declared George, sticking up his chin.

"A trump card?" asked Harry.

"Should we tell him or not?" George asked Fred.

"Tell him, that way we can send our message to Snape immediately. Then he will know that it's pointless to try to do anything funny."

"I don't understand a word you're saying," said Harry, concerned.

"Harry-kins," said Fred, "the fact is that our most illustrious Professor Snape frequents a most illustrious whore who lives in the house next door."

"What?"

"Yeah, Harry-kins, you've heard well," said George. "He comes here every Friday night. Fred and I were testing our Speculor, an implement that we are perfecting and that we hope will enable us to see through walls, and we have found out some interesting things. We've discovered that our neighbour has powerful wards on a back room, but the waiting room, in the front of the house, is unprotected. That way, we are able to see the people waiting for their turn. After only a few weeks, we have already huge dossiers about many influential people!"

"But are you sure that it was Snape?"

"That greasy hair and that humongous nose are unmistakable, Harry-kins. And it's infallible: every Friday night he comes. Always at the same time: ten o'clock. And he leaves one hour later. He Apparates right in the waiting room. Probably he's sure that nobody is seeing him! Oh, and now and then he brings a flagon to the bloke. Fred and I are sure the bloke needs some kind of aphrodisiac to shag Snape," said George, and he and Fred burst out in laughter.

Harry left the twins' laboratory a little dizzy, and not because of the Firewhisky. He pretended to be going back to Hogwarts but, in an insane move, went to the house of the twins' neighbour instead.

He wouldn't mind if the twins saw him. If they did, they wouldn't understand anything. Probably they would include him in their dossiers, but they wouldn't do anything about it immediately.

It was still early, approaching six o'clock. Perhaps the prostitute hadn't begun working yet.

Harry braced himself and wielded the heavy bronze knocker on the massive oak front door. He didn't need to wait for long. A man with a scarred face, sunken eyes and grey hair opened the door.

"What... Holy Merlin! Aren't you Harry Potter?"

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Yes, I am."

"Nice to meet you! My name is Pier. Come in!" Pier led him through the waiting room to an ample suite, with a king-size bed. It was a simple room, but very neat and organised, with various ambiences. There was even a kitchen area, with a dinner table. Pier pointed him a comfortable armchair. "Sit down! I don't live here, you know. I've just arrived. My first client is due in an hour." Pier sat on a twin armchair, facing Harry's. "Are you... per chance... interested in... my services?"

"I'm... er... Yes, I am."

"Would you have... any special requirements?"

"Of what kind?"

"Oh." Pier made a vague gesture. "Some of my clients are fond of bondage, BDSM, spanking, or fetishes, you know. Others prefer that I impersonate someone else..."

Harry had a sudden inspiration. "With the Polyjuice Potion?"

"Oh, no, that's very rare. Only one of my clients asks me to use this potion, and he himself supplies me with the product."

Oh, Merlin. "Really? How interesting. Does he bring the potion all the times he comes here?"

"No, he gives me a flagon and, when it's finished, he brings another. He's given me a set of clothes to go with the look." Pier got up, opened a drawer in a desk and produced a green flagon, showing it to Harry.

"Who does the potion make you look like?"

"I don't know. That client always casts a Memory Charm on me before leaving. Most of my clients demand that. Of course, if you'd like me to use the Polyjuice Potion for you, I can be whoever you want me to be."

"Is it very expensive?" Harry asked.

"If you bring the potion, it's the normal price: twenty galleons per hour."

"And... when it's over... would you let me cast a Memory Charm on you?"

"Oh, sure." The prostitute shrugged.

"Look... Do you think the guy who gave you this potion... will he notice if you use a dose to be with me?"

"What? That's highly irregular. It wouldn't be ethical on my part."

"And if I pay you... forty galleons? For a session of half an hour?" asked Harry, determined.

"But... why do you want to use a potion if you don't even know what person it will transform me in? That's very weird."

"Yeah, I know. I've always imagined how it would be to shag a stranger. Someone I had never met before. "

The prostitute stared at him suspiciously for a long time. Finally, he shrugged. "My client will get mad, but I can tell him that I've dropped a little of the potion on the floor, inadvertently..."

"Have you got time now?" asked Harry, anxious.

Pier looked at his watch. "The potion lasts one hour. You'll have to pay for the whole hour. And we have to start immediately. Usually I give myself at least five minutes of break between clients, but I can make an exception for Harry Potter."

Harry asked himself if the bloke used some potion to have that recycling capacity. "I don't need a whole hour with you. You'll have a lot of time to rest."

Pier shrugged again. "I aim to please my clients!"

He opened the same drawer again and produced a glass. He took the flagon, opened it, poured the right dose and swallowed it in one gulp.

Slowly, his grey hair began to blacken. He started to shrink considerably. His skin became rosier, smooth. Now he was exactly Harry's size and... a scar began to form on his forehead. Unruly hair covered his head.

Harry widened his eyes. It was like looking at himself in a mirror, only without the glasses and with different clothes.