Where the Apple Falls
Chapter Four: Cunning Plans

            Harry had patiently waited for the holidays. He had obediently attended his Occlumency lessons under the cover of detentions or remedial classes. He had kept his promise not to force his way into Snape's thoughts, but could not control the occasional accidental violation. It no longer felt as if he were leaving his own mind to travel Snape's thoughts, but more like he was traveling in an extension of his own mind. Eventually, he had finally reached the point that he had been able to fend off Voldemort's occasional attempts to possess his mind. Snape informed him that the Dark Lord was not pleased that he was no longer able to invade Harry’s dreams.

            Harry had not told him or Dumbledore of the dreams that had taken the place of the visions and manipulations. In some of the dreams he was put under Cruciatus. In others, he was the one performing the curse until his victim lost the will to live. Occasionally, he dreamed about killing, about rape. In such cases he was never the murderer, never the rapist, but he stood on the sidelines and watched. He lifted no finger to aid the victim. He heard himself laughing, and that laugh echoed in the darkness. A mark burned on his arm, and he screamed.

            Harry knew that these were no visions of Voldemort. They were nightmares, but they were not his own. True, he had experienced much of the same emotions as the dreamer. He had felt responsible for the deaths of others. He had felt such guilt that he wanted to follow in their wake. Yet, compared to what the dreamer felt, his own guilt now seemed a mere nagging conscience.

            He now wanted that pensieve more than ever. He wanted to understand his Potions Master. He wanted to know about his father, but a larger part of him just wanted to find a way to convince the older man that he was not the terrible person he believed himself to be.

            Carefully, Harry mentally pushed at that little nagging area that he had personally termed his bit-of-Snape. He was rather surprised to find himself thinking, "Oh, so the boy's finally figured it out, has he?" before he felt it push back.

            He was quite certain that he had never called himself an idiot boy before.

---

            "You do seem to have rather interesting dreams, Mr. Potter," Snape said, smirking, at the end of the last lesson before the holidays.

            "I knew they were your dreams! I knew it!" Harry said, rather pleased with himself for figuring it out so quickly. Then he realized what the Professor had said. "But, then, you're having my dreams too?"

            "Well, it certainly isn't my mind that comes up with such depravity."

            Harry blushed. "Why is this happening?"

            "I believe it’s called adolescence,” Snape smirked.

            Harry rolled his eyes.  “No, not that.  Why are we sharing dreams?”

             “I believe that during your little accident a few months back, you inadvertently connected our minds,” Snape answered. “Fortunately, it seems that only our subconscious minds are connected, so we share dreams but are not constantly being harassed by one another’s thoughts.”

            “How do we stop it?  I don’t want you in my dreams.  Especially the ones where…” Harry blushed.  “I mean if the Slytherins found out that I’m…”

            “You must really think I hate you, Potter,” Snape smirked.  “Good.  But not to worry, your secrets are safe with me, as long as you keep any of mine which may come to your attention.”

             “Will you tell me about my father now?”  Harry asked, hopeful still.

            “No. Trust me, Potter.  You don’t want to know.”

---

            Harry wanted to know. He had his plan in place. Now, he just had to wait for Ron and Hermione to leave. This year, for the first time, they were leaving him alone at Christmas. He wasn't complaining nearly as much as they thought that he should.

            "We can still stay with you, if you want," Ron said. "I don't have to spend Christmas at the Burrow."

            "Go, Ron. Ginny's going, and you'll be the only Weasley here. It wouldn't be right for you to be away from your family." Harry said, virtually pushing Ron out of the door. Seamus was laughing.

            "Clearly, Harry wants to be alone this Christmas," he said. "He's got some bird waiting for him to spend Christmas with her."

            "Harry, you have a girlfriend and you didn't tell me?" Ron asked, looking hurt.

            "Thanks a lot, Seamus," Harry said to the Irish boy. "No, Ron, I don't have a girlfriend."

            "Oooh, a boyfriend then?" Seamus grinned. Hermione, just coming down the stairs, smacked him on the head as she walked past.

            "Leave Harry alone," she said. "Ready, Ron?"

            All of the Gryffindors were finally bustled out of the castle and on to their respective holiday destinations.  That night, free of inquiring and over-curious friends, he slipped on his invisibility cloak and went out to catch a Snape. Or rather, to catch Snape's thoughts. He headed for a hallway that the Professor was known to patrol. Sure enough, he heard that distinctive voice in conversation with someone else. The other voice was just as familiar, although it lacked some of its usual arrogance.

            "He'll be out of Azkaban within the week, Professor," Draco Malfoy whispered. "Mother does nothing but plan for this, and of course He wants Father out as well."

            "What do you want?" Snape asked.

            "I want him to rot. I want him to stay away from me," Draco ran a hand through his normally well-kept hair. "Mother can't try anything. I can fight her. I can't fight him."

            Harry moved so that he could see the two men, more than a little shocked at Draco's pronouncement. He had seemed so angry at the end of the last year, vowing vengeance.

            "You really should go to Dumbledore," Snape said.

            "I don't trust the old man," Malfoy said, shaking his head. "I don't want to be turned into some tool to be used against that thing. Potter's only a pawn, he just doesn't realize it."

            "That he is, but aren't we all?" Snape frowned. "I won't let Lucius force you to take the Mark, Draco."

            "How the hell are you supposed to do that, Sev? You'll blow your cover."

            "No, I'll just convince your father that you are too young to make such a decision," Snape clasped Draco's shoulder for a moment. "Now go to bed. Enjoy this Christmas."

            He watched the boy head back down into the dungeons before turning toward a tapestry. Harry noticed that it had a slight bulge.

            "Did you enjoy the show?" Snape asked the tapestry.

            "How did you know I was here?" Remus Lupin stepped out.

            "You couldn't hide convincingly if your life depended on it," Snape sneered.

            "It often does," Remus smiled. "Do you think that the boy is true?"

            "I know that he is."

            "Well, that's different. A Malfoy who chooses the light," Lupin looked at Snape closely. "About as likely as a Snape that does."

            "Or a Black," Snape sneered. "What are you doing here? If I remember correctly, you are no longer a professor at this school."

            "Thanks to you," Remus answered, but waved it away as if it no longer mattered. "I came to see Harry."

            "Of course," Snape chuckled. "I'm sure he'll be delighted to see you."

            Harry had to stifle a groan. His dream. Snape was going to tell Remus about his dream.

            "I hope so. He's alone this Christmas," Remus said. "But, I've got to give a report to Dumbledore first. Drinks later?"

            "Not tonight."

            Remus nodded and left down the hall that Harry was standing in, barely missing a run in collision with the boy. Finally, Snape was on the move again. He was headed back toward his office. Harry was thinking that it might be interesting to follow Snape on other nights as well. He had certainly learned a great deal just by eavesdropping. He had learned two things that he had great difficulty believing. Draco was good, or at least, not evil. And Remus and Snape drank together. He briefly wondered if demons were ice-skating yet.

            He followed Snape back to his office and carefully squeezed through the doorway before it could be closed. He waited for Snape to collect a sheaf of papers and carry them into his private quarters. When the office was empty, he lifted the cloak just enough to pull the pensieve underneath. Now he just had to get out and back to Gryffindor Tower. Luckily, Snape had not yet set the wards.  He slipped out of the doorway just as quietly as he had come in.

            After watching the boy leave, Snape ended the charm keeping him unnoticeable. Potter had been following him all night in that damned cloak of his father's. He was really desperate to poke around in Snape's thoughts, it seemed. He had listened to nothing. Snape set the wards on his office door and shrugged. If the boy wanted to know that badly, he wouldn't stop him. He certainly wouldn't be there to comfort him when he found out things that he didn't want to know.