Harry had first come out to this lake to have time alone, thinking that perhaps if he could just get away from it all he would find out what was doing this to him. All sorts of strange ideas flitted through Harry's thoughts. A spell, a curse, was it someone else who made Harry feel this way? Some Death Eater who escaped, maybe?

These thoughts had been brushed away, whatever it was, it was in Harry: from Harry.

So now Harry came out to the lake to force himself to feel something. Even if it was something as trivial as pain. It would do for now. Harry took his wand from his pocket and said one of the spells he was now using:

"Incendio."

Harry was skilled enough to control his power, so only a tiny flame appeared at the end of his wand. Not much more than you would find on a candle, Harry noticed.

He held out his hand, just over the flame; watching expressionlessly as the smoke started to stain his fingers black.

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Snape was restless. It was night and the moon was void. There was no point in him trying to start any new potions, since magic of any kind seemed to diminish under the void moon. Potions in particular could have strange side effects for no reason; something as harmless as not functioning, or something as disastrous as exploding suddenly.

So Snape was doing something few people knew he was capable of. Astral projecting was a skill he had learned early, as a second year student. It wasn't something usually taught at Hogwarts, but the divination teacher then was quite skilled.

Nothing like Trelawney, Snape thought. His lip curled; his opinion of the currant divination teacher was just slightly above his opinion of a nasty insect. Trelawney was a parasite, a quack. Not that Snape was in any way rude to Sibyl.  He was polite to her, as he was; well, as he tried to be to all fellow teachers.

There are just some scars that don't heal. Being a former death eater was one of them, even if that blasted mark had disappeared when Voldemort was killed.

Snape shook his head, cursing himself for getting distracted by errant thoughts. He settled into his favorite armchair and began the crystal count down.

Red seven, orange six, yellow five, green four, light blue three, dark blue two, violet one.

Snape felt himself enter the alpha state, his whole body relaxing.

It wasn't really necessary to enter alpha to astral project, but it made things easier; not to mention minimizing the risk of something jarring Snape back into his body.

Speaking of which, Snape lifted himself up out of the chair. He cast a brief glance over his shoulder, satisfied to see his body resting peacefully, before he floated up through the stone walls of Hogwarts dungeons. He passed by sleeping slytherin students, corridors and classrooms.

Snape paused outside the ravenclaw dormitory, considering for a moment the possibility of going inside. The things he saw when he projected, and he had often overheard students insulting him, always interested Snape. He often saw other, activities, as well. Students either in pairs, or sometimes triples, Snape thought with a mental grin of the time he had floated across the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan in the gryffindor showers. Snape was not naturally a voyeur, but he had learned to enjoy such occurrences when they presented themselves. There were precious few times when he was able to participate, and this was the next best thing.

Snape decided against it. He wasn't really in the mood for such things tonight. Perhaps there would be something to capture his interest outside.

Snape floated out past the great hall and the entrance to the castle, until he stopped above the school grounds. He took a minute to appreciate the near total darkness around him. Had he been looking through his eyes Snape would hardly have been able to see Hagrid's hut from the stone stairway, but in astral form everything was illuminated by auras.

Snape was distracted from his thoughts by a sudden movement at the edge of the forest.

Snape moved to hide himself, an almost sub-conscious reflex to hide, when he remembered he couldn't be seen.

Curiously, he floated over to the form that was making its way slowly across the grounds.

Well, well, Harry Potter. Snape felt he shouldn't even be surprised; Harry was always breaking the rules. Snape couldn't even punish him for it this time, or he would risk his ability becoming public knowledge. Right now only Dumbledore knew, and Snape intended it to stay that way.

Curious, this was very strange indeed. There was something odd about Harry's aura. It wasn't as vivid as it should be, for one thing. Snape would have thought that the boy with enough energy to destroy Voldemort would have a vibrantly colorful aura, but Harry's looked more like a weak northern lights display.

The distribution of energy was strange as well. Harry's hands and arms seemed to have localized bright spots. Snape glanced at the boy's face, but it held only a detached determination.

This was so strange. This was hardly typical at all.

Snape followed Harry into the castle, up several staircases. He waited with the boy while one stairway leisurely shifted position, and he stopped when Harry did outside the gryffindor dormitory.

"Ferula Medico."

If Snape had been manifesting right then his jaw would have dropped. Why would Harry Potter need to use such a strong healing spell? What on earth was wrong with the boy?

The bright spots in Harry's aura diminished, until only a weak afterimage of them remained.

"Scuttle bug."

Snape was confused for an instant, until he realized this must be the current password to the gryffindor rooms.

The portrait of the Fat Lady mumbled something about annoying insects, before swinging open to allow Harry access to his dorm.

Snape watched the painting swing shut again, and floated past it after a moments thought. Those bright aura marks, they must have been injuries.

Perhaps the boy had gotten into a fight. Snape considered checking the slytherin dormitory to see if Draco was in a similar state, but decided against it.

He floated with Harry past the common room, up yet another staircase, and into a five-bed room.

Unbelievable.

Harry was definitely spending time in the restricted section of the library, no sixth year student should know about the replica spell. Not that it was in any way dangerous; the professors had restricted the spell because it encouraged students to break the rules.

Which was something Harry was obviously doing.

Snape watched as the boy flicked his wand at the simulacrum of himself, and saw the bedcovers flatten as the mass disappeared. This was a talent, to learn a spell that difficult one your own, and to become proficient in it without alerting anyone.

Snape expected nothing less from the famous Harry Potter, although he'd slit his own throat before admitting it.

Snape saw Harry put away the invisibility cloak he'd worn outside and slip out of his school robes. Snape watched, fascinated. He wasn't embarrassed in the least, to be watching a student undress. It harmed no one to watch, and Snape was curious to see what quidditch had done to the young seekers body.

Harry was thin, but solid. Lithe was the word that entered Snape's mind. He was actually quite attractive. Then Harry let the robes fall completely, giving Snape a view of something he had not expected to see.

Scars. Snape got only a brief glimpse before Harry pulled on his pajamas, but what he saw startled him. There was a long scar from what had to have been a bad wound, along Harry's side.

Snape remembered that one. Pettigrew had slashed Harry before Snape killed him, but why hadn't the boy gotten Pomphrey to remove the scar?

There were others, from what little Snape could see of Harry's back. Little ones and medium sized ones, none of them new. Some of them looked years old.

Surely the boy had never displayed the level of clumsiness Neville Longbottom had, so where did they come from? They had not happened at the school, or Dumbledore would be aware of them. So they must have happened before Harry came to Hogwarts, or perhaps during the summer holidays.

Snape decided he was too tired, and it was none of his business anyway. He drifted away from the gryffindor dorms, moving faster and faster through the school until he reached his own rooms. He slipped back into his body and opened his eyes slowly.

There was a slight ache in his neck; Snape rolled his shoulders to be rid of it.

His mind was full of Potter. Questions he wanted answers to; Snape had to remind himself that he wasn't the head of the boy's house; it really wasn't any of his business if Harry was having problems.

Besides, Snape didn't like Harry, in fact he hated the brat. Didn't he?

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I hope you like it, more will be coming soon. I'm working on this story as well as Waiting No Longer, so updates will probably be erratic. Tell me what you think!

The Silver Muse