Trigol awakened Harry when the Weasley twins arrived with Arthur. They were a little early, and the twins cornered Harry to ask him about his training and talk about some new line in their store for defensive products.

"Why didn't Mrs. Weasley or anyone else come?" Harry tried to look nonchalant, excited when he finally having a chance to speak with Mr. Weasley.

"Well, Molly didn't think it was safe to let the children out of her sight, and it was a far bit safer for me to apparate here then try and bring all of them, so they stayed."

He was unable to keep the disappointment from showing on his face, "So how is everyone? Ron, Ginny, Hermione…"

"Oh, they're good. It'll be nice for them to get back to school, but Molly is a fair bit worried about that, too. Hermione went home a few days ago, her and Ron were struggling to get along. That happens, though. I'm sure they'll work through it."

Harry nodded thoughtfully.

"Struggling to get on?" Fred's voice echoed through the library entryway.

"Yeah, that's putting it lightly!" George interrupted his brother as they approached he and Mr. Weasley. They had gone to find Snape to get his opinion on some product.

"Boy's, it's not good to gossip like that." Arthur admonished, but the twins acted as if they didn't hear him.

"It was just two days ago-"

"-a sunny Thursday evening-"

"-are you sure? I thought it was raining-"

"-we had just finished eating mum's delicious pork roast-"

"-and amazing potato mash-"

Harry glanced at Mr. Weasley to see his response to their antics. Thier father's fond smile made Harry's heart ache longingly.

"-and were awaiting her delicious pumpkin pie when-"

"-Hermione slammed her fist on the table. Ron looked mortified-"

"I think your mother almost passed out in shock." Mr. Weasley added, still smiling.

Fred pitched his voice high, "'You're such a pig-headed bigot, Ron!'"

"'How you could abandon him, he's your friend!'" George added, trying his best to mimic a girl's voice.

"'All because of who he likes- Well!" Fred stomped his foot, winking at Harry. He cringed; it seemed as if that cat was out of the bag.

"'It breaks my heart, Ronald Weasley, but if you can't see reason, then we are through.'"

"B-B-but Hermione-" Fred blubbered.

"Well, that's enough, boys." Mr. Weasley interjected, looking uncomfortable.

"He's been grounded straight through the school year." George grinned.

"Mum says that she won't sign his Hogsmeade slip."

"Well now, she wasn't planning to anyway. It's not safe. I'll be surprised if the school actually plans to let students go at all." Arthur scratched his neck uneasily.

"Oi, what I don't understand, is why didn't she wait until dessert?"

"Yeah! She didn't get any of mum's-" Fred was interrupted by a commotion in the hallway.

"I expect the meeting will be starting soon. Best go see who's here." Arthur headed out of the library, leaving Harry with the twins.

"Since mum isn't here to fuss, I expect they'll let you sit in." Fred said brightly.

Wishing he had someone to fuss, Harry swallowed back the encroaching sadness. George clapped him on the shoulder. "Might as well head to the kitchen for the meeting. Dad's right, you know. We'll be starting soon."

There was no one who showed besides Mason that didn't show two years ago. Shacklebolt shook his hand and appeared startled when he realized Harry couldn't speak; Fletcher hung in the background and when the meeting kicked off, Remus still hadn't arrived. Harry, sitting between Arthur and Mason, couldn't hide his disappointment.

"Ah, now, how is everyone doing?" Dumbledore started, "I suppose we should get to our first order of business. How is young Harry progressing in his training?"

"If I may, Albus, Lupin still has not shown." Snape's voice was - still - oddly comforting, "Am I to understand that you do not expect him?"

"Quite the contrary, dear boy." The old man smiled warmly, "Although, I must admit, I am quite pleased to hear of your interest in this colleague."

Snape's expression soured, "I do not wish to repeat myself later. I move to delay this discussion until Lupin arrives."

"All in favor?"

"Yea" Chorused around the table.

"Well, let's seen then… ahh, of course, sorry dear boy. Everyone, welcome Mason Horn to the fold. I dare say he will be quite useful with information gathering." Mason grinned and stood, shaking hands across the table with anyone who reached towards him, introducing themselves.

"Ah, now, Gred and Forge." The twins grinned, "Please update us on your progress."

The twins stood and started pulling bottles from their pockets. People at the table reached for them, so Harry carefully took one once the others proved you could handle them without harm.

"We only have the one item, as we've been working hard to perfect it for awhile-"

"-We do have some items we've had on the back burner, which we spoke with Severus about earlier-"

Snape didn't look the least bit perturbed at them using his given name.

"-so we will be working on that. Now, we have this fabulous smash potion you can throw down that creates an instant wall. -"

"-It's not a good idea to test them inside, as the effects are as permanent as these walls-"

"-but they are excellent at blocking curses like the killing curse, where you can see the magic stream." Fred finished, and Harry couldn't remember who had spoken first.

"Any way I can get an order of these for our aurors?" Kingsley murmured, inspecting a bottle he picked up. A thin, cloudy bottled contained a mixture of swirling green and brown; the outer container was nothing Harry had seen before.

"We might be willing to share the recipe, for a fee." Fred grinned.

"I think it might be best if that waited, Kingsley. I don't want to see your aurors harmed either, but I'd rather not think of an opponent getting ahold of these."

"Understood."

"Fantastic job, gentlemen. Are they easy to make? Will you be able to produce these while researching the item I asked for?"

The twins looked at each other speculatively, and George responded. "The more difficult part is getting hold of the materials for the bottle, Sir. The potion itself is rather reactive, so needed to remove part of it and put it inside the glass."

"That way," Fred began, "When it breaks, the potion mixes with the catalyst and works from there."

"Quite a unique bit of engineering my two boys put together, if I do say so myself." Arthur grinned proudly. Harry felt jealousy claw at his insides.

He perked up when he noticed another figure sneaking into the kitchen and then hanging back from the full table. He'd know those shabby robes anywhere.

"I might be able to assist." Mason's voice boomed in typical innkeeper fashion. "I know a specialist glass maker who would be pleased to help me, no questions asked."

"Fantastic." Albus was pleased, "I will speak with you later to get more information."

Mason nodded with a bright smile.

"Now that Remus is here we can discuss Harry's progress. Severus?"

The man, who was sitting back with his finger curled against his lip, turned his dark gaze to Harry appraisingly.

"While the child continues to insist he can not speak, he has proven he is capable of reading and learning. Since I am no longer restricted in my method of teaching," His eyes snapped to Remus for a moment, and then to Dumbledore, "he has been more responsive."

Harry clenched his fists, angry that Snape spoke as if he was not there.

"Potter continues to struggle with emotion," Snape gave him a meaningful look, "but has been able to hide thoughts and memories well enough. We are working on throwing out intruders who has passed his mental barriers."

Realizing where the topic was going, Harry steeled himself for embarrassment. Dark Arts would be next. He did not want people knowing about his difficult with the Patronus.

"As for his other class, I am restricted in what I can say, but he is doing as expected."

"Good, thank you. And Auror Moody? Tonks?"

"He can't concentrate to save his arse." Moody said, scowling, "And as Snape here said, he can't control his emotions."

"He does do really well with strategy, though." Tonks interjected, "No complaints there. He's a fast learner." She looked at Remus, "I was hoping to get you to train his power level."

Harry felt his hopes bubble; he would love to spend more time with Remus. Even if it would be an exhausting class.

"I do not believe that will be necessary. We have been working Potter to the breaking point daily and still his magic doesn't falter." Snape dashed his hopes.

But… his magic doesn't falter? What is that with the Patronus? Did Snape want him to fail? Harry glared at Snape.

"Do you feel differently, Harry?" Dumbledore asked softly.

Harry flushed and floated his writing pad to Dumbledore. "I am concerned about a few things. I'd really like to meet privately with Remus."

The old wizard steepled his fingers, reading the note out loud. Snape scowled at him.

"That will be fine, Harry. Remus, I need you this evening but you can be excused tomorrow evening if you are amenable?"

"Of course." Remus's tone was strange, and when Harry glanced at him, the man looked uncomfortable.

"I will take his place for the evening." Snape stated, his tone cool and challenging.

"Severus-" Dumbledore started, looking worried. Snape's eyes narrowed and the old man sighed, "Please be cautious."

There was a moment of silence, with Fred and George giving each other secret smiles and others, like Mason and Fletcher, looked painfully uncomfortable.

The meeting went on in a rather droll manner, Dumbledore asking everyone for updates and getting answers back that Harry couldn't decipher. It wasn't that they were trying to keep it from him, it was more that he didn't know what anyone was up to.

At the end of the meeting, when everyone started to adjourn, Harry was torn between stopping Remus or stopping Dumbledore. Deciding he's see Remus the next day, he stepped up to the older man and held out his writing pad.

"I was hoping we could talk."

"I am sorry, dear boy, but I have some pressing matters to attend to."

Harry realized that others started listening, but since they couldn't hear him…

"You sent me a book on Silent Magic. You knew what they were doing to me. Why didn't you stop them?" He had been thinking about it for a long time, and hadn't managed to ask last time, being too distracted with the other going ons.

Albus merely raised his eyebrows, "Harry, Death Eaters have been very active this past year. You needed to be safe."

"Just not from my relatives?" The ink on the paper was a bitter brown, and the writing was more spiky than usual.

"Perhaps you should move this conversation to more private quarters?" Snape's voice snarled out, loud and clear. Those who had been listening, a good number from the meeting, looked ashamed and started shuffling to the door.

"Have a good one, 'Arry!" One of the twins shouted, with Fred blowing him a kiss. Harry waved.

"I really must be going." Dumbledore sounded firm, "I am sorry, Harry." He added, more gently, and started towards the door. Harry clenched his fists, rage bubbling up inside him.

He was about to follow Dumbledor to the door when someone placed a hand on his back and started to lead him down the hall. Others were with them, he did not see who. Harry looked back to glare at Dumbledore, who stood talking with Mason and Fletcher. Had to leave, indeed.

They had escorted him into the training room. He wanted to snap at them, what was this about? But he knew it was useless. He had left his writing pad with Dumbledore, anyway., useless as it was. No one wanted to bother reading it.

Moody stood in front of him. "Feel around you, Potter. You need to grasp your magic and pull it back in."

Realizing what Moody wanted, his anger spiked further. The closet holding the boggart rattled, and he could see a red glow from the concentration orb he had left on top of it.

Frustrated, he groped around, trying to feel the magic Moody had spoken of. There was nothing.

A familiar pleasant tingle touched his mind, diverting his attention. His anger started to deflate.

"Poor Potter," Snape's voice taunted him, "Couldn't get the Headmaster's attention. Did you expect him to coddle you?"

Harry's stomach lurched, his anger bubbling up again. 'That's not what this is about', he wanted to shout.

The bubble pricked him, and he watched as it swirled around the room, seeming to build up some sort of pressure.

"What makes you think that he even wants to concern himself with your petty whining about your perfect, adoring family? What did they do, Potter, refuse to serve you hand and food?"

Harry felt like he would burst with anger. The bubble approached him, touched him as it handed off the invisible ball of pressure it had been gathering. Harry felt the bubble attaching to his thoughts, the pleasant feel overwhelmed by his rage.

"Focus, Potter." Snape's voice, not from the bubble, prompted him. He focused and felt around the ball of pressure Snape had handed him, unable to feel anything except pressure, unable to see or understand what he was holding.

What was he supposed to do with it?

"Release it, Potter." Snape snapped, and Harry did. The bubble seemed to catch it and devour it before pulling away.

"He can't see it, Moody." Snape's voice was quiet, somewhere behind him. "He's aura blind. He can only feel the pressure of it."

Harry opened his eyes, drained and tired. Remus put a hand on his shoulder. "Alright, Harry?" He asked quietly. Nodding, Harry turned to focus on his trainers.

Moody swore, "Well that changes this. There isn't much point in training his concentration then, is there?"

"I would leave it for now. Focus on strategy. I'll try to devise a plan for the rest."

"I must be going, Harry." Remus said softly, "I am sorry."

Harry nodded and was pulled into a hug. "I'll see you soon."

As Remus walked off, Moody and Snape approached him. Snape looked thoughtfully after Remus, standing with one arm across his chest and the other tapping his wand against his nose.

Harry expected a thought like, 'Careful, you don't want to warp the wand wood with your nose grease,' but it came out more like, 'He is nice to look at with his robes pulled tight around him like that.'

"You likely don't know what Aura Blind is, since you've never seen an aura. From what I understand, it's like when a muggle is born without sight or hearing. They can't fix it and they don't have an understanding of sight or sound." Moody was saying.

"That ball of pressure," Snape inserted himself, "was alive with color and life, Potter. It was the magical energy you were emitting rolled tightly into a ball. This is where you felt pressure.

"Aura blindness isn't very common, but the idea is very uncomfortable for wizards. We can see magic building up so we are aware of when another is about to cast a spell or is using magic. It is possible to hide this information, naturally, and those who do are more likely to be dangerous. Usually," Snape's tone became disdainful, "they are clumsy. There are ways to see through it."

"I can't see how he would need the lesson," Moody snapped.

"Some enjoy education and research as a pastime, Auror Moody." Snape's sounded disgusted and angry, his tone changing the mood of the room.

Harry glanced between the men; Moody seemed particularly stiff and Snape looked almost serpentine, as if he were waiting to strike.

Moody's one magical eye rolled to Harry as he kept the other on Snape. "No need to get into a snit, Snape. I have things to do, anyhow. You let that boy have his evenings to himself." He turned, striding from the room.

Snape turned to Harry, lip curled, as if here were about to launch into a tirade.

"If I bore you Potter, leave." His tone was bitter, but surprisingly,we that was all he said.

Harry almost stepped towards the door, and then paused. He wasn't bored; he spent over a year and a half doing absolutely nothing; this was not boredom. This was not arduous. He enjoyed learning, and now, like it or not, he was starting to enjoy Snape's company.

Harry held Snape's gaze, green eyes penetrating black, and shook his head, planting his feet.

He wasn't sure what he expected from Snape; the man was hard to read on a good day and about as predictable as the golden snitch.

Snape's black eyes seemed to gleam in the light, "It must be a humbling experience to realize you don't, in fact, know everything." Snark. The potion master didn't expect him to stay and was still clearly angry at Moody.

He wasn't, however, taking it out on Harry. That was a surprise, and even the reason- other than pure exhaustion- that the younger man was so off balance.

He toyed with the idea of sitting on the floor, maybe transfiguring a chair- would Snape see that as disrespectful? Perhaps it was best to stand. A quick accio called his writing pad; he would try again to speak with Snape.

With seemingly lightning reflexes, likely due to his ability to tell that Harry was casting, Snape interrupted the spell, making the paper drop to the floor.

"There must be a way," Snape started, smirking in an almost condescending way, "for a pathetic, Aura Blind wizard to get around this, this poor, misunderstood golden boy must wonder."

More like, what the bloody hell did I get myself into?

The mans snurjed widened as if he could read Harry's mind, prompting him to grasp his thoughts and pull them close. "There isn't, Potter."

Harry grimaced; it was true, he had been hopeful that he might be able to do something. It seemed like a very useful skill to have.

Snape was moving towards him, tapping the tip of his wand against his lips. He circled Harry slowly, assessing him, and the teen eyed him back, a fluttery feeling building in the pit of his stomach. A warm fluttery feeling.

Harry swallowed and tried not to look too childish, sour, or disappointed.

Snape stopped in front of him, "I have been considering this conundrum, Potter, and have arrived at a conclusion. Would you like to hear it?"

The man was positively predatory and Harry liked it. He appreciated Snape's confient stance, but the mans dark, intense gaze sent plesant prickles dancing across his scalp and shoulders. Nodding to Snape, grasped his emotions to tug closer to himself.

"Our particular situation has offered me insight into this disability. I am in a position to understand the way you perceive auras; it is remarkable that there is another sense associated with auras, and I am quite interested in this subject myself. I propose that we investigate this sense further, that which allowed you to discern the intangible pressure of of your bundled up magic."

Snape began to pace in front of him, and Harry watched him, feeling dizzy with exhaustion. "It is possible that you may be able to hone this sense, strengthen it so that it compensates for the lack of visual input you are receiving. Potter?"

Snape stopped suddenly, inspecting him, "Did you eat dinner, Potter?"

Harry, realizing that he in fact had not, shrugged indifferently. He had hoped Remus or the Weasleys would arrive early, he thought he'd eat with them.

Snape's lip curled, "To the kitchens then, Potter. Did no one teach to you care for yourself?" The man admonished as he led Harry towards the kitchen.

Considering that no, no one did teach him to care for himself, Harry shrugged again, discomforted.

"I am aware that you slept until the meeting, however, I suggest that if food doesn't help you, you plan to get more rest." Snape made an effort to gentle his tone, and it was not lost on Harry, who felt as if someone had suddenly lodged a bezoar in his esophagus.

If he reacted in any way strangely, Snape had not noticed or ignored it, calling Trigol and requesting evening tea for himself and to heat up leftovers from dinner for Harry.

"I believe we can make time for this training in the evenings, Potter." Snape hadn't said another word until they sat at the table, "assuming proper care of yourself, of course."

Harry looked guiltily at the plate being served to him by Trigol.

Snape, however, was in lecture mode. He clearly thought the subject, as embarassing as it was to Harry, was important. He sipped at his tea, placing a strawberry scone on his plate as he spoke. The Professor spoke of sleeping, nutrition, water intake, and giving Harry a challenging look as he did so, personal hygiene, taking bites of his scone throughout. By the time he was finished speaking his scone was gone and Harry's plate was clean, the teen in question as pink as the strawberry peices thatwere in Snape's scone. Contrastingly, the professor didn't seem to mind at all.

Harry took a scone, a chocolate chip one apparently made just for him, and nibbled on it, eyeing the tea.

Snape gave him a warning look, and Harry tried not to scowl. "If you drink the tea," the man growled, his impatience showing, "you will have difficulty recognizing if you need rest, and that, with all this training, is not something you should risk."

Moments later Snape took Harry's mug and, with a sign, began pouring tea into it as green eyes watched curiously. Ebony wand tapping against the lip of the cup, Snape pushed the drink at Harry.

Harry reached for it cautiously, not noticing Snape's disgusted lip curl. He didn't like the idea of drinking the tea after Snape had scolded him for considering it.

"It's not poisoned, Potter." Snape angrily bit out as Harry stared at the cup, cradling it in his hands.

He shook his head, frowning, and set the mug down to lay his hands beside his face as if sleeping.

It didn't much affect Snape's demeanor, "I removed the caffiene."

Giving Snape a small smile in appreciation, which again the man didn't react to, he dipped his scone into the hot fluid.

When Harry found soon after that he did, in fact, feel much better, the two moved to the library. Snape wanted to research the issue, see if there was anything relating to Harry's experience documented, as it could help. He enlisted Harry to assist him, directing him in much the same way Hermione did when she was hunting information.

It was a almost midnight, hours later, when Harry found he truly was tired. Snape merely waved him off, absorbed in an article he was reading. The younger man trailed out, glancing repeatedly at the man, concerned that he wasn't getting enough sleep, either. Harry paused in the door way, coming to a decision. After all, the man would be doing something important, potentially dangerous, in the upcoming evening.

It was 30 minutes later that Trigol arrived and badgered the grouchy potion master into turning in. Harry, alseep in his bed, was not there to see it.