Disclaimer: See bio

Pairings: Harry/ Susan, Harry/ Lisa, Ron/ Hermione

Note: Changes is a companion piece to the other Healing stories. It takes into account the events of all three other stories. To avoid confusion please read the stories in their intended order. This one is much more fun that way.

Changes

Part One

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He came to a decision that night, one that would change his life. No one was ever going to die because of him again. The decision came about as he stared at the cracks in the ceiling of the smallest bedroom at number four Privet Drive. He had gotten no more than a few hours of sleep each night since he had arrived from school two weeks ago. Combined with the chores he had to do at the Dursleys' house and the diet of Dudley's in which he was still forced to participate, the lack of sleep was taking its toll on the fifteen-year-old boy.

He would need to start sleeping again if he was to abide by his decision. To sleep he would have to get rid of the nightmares. To get rid of the nightmares he would have to study Occlumency again.

How many fifteen-year-olds were kept awake night after night by visions of death, torture, and destruction? How many fifteen-year-olds had a psychopathic murder who fashioned himself as a Dark Lord seeking to kill them? Probably the only one that existed was Harry Potter, underage wizard and student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Harry swung his legs over the side of his bed and, kneeling on the floor, felt under the bed for the loose floorboard where he hid his most prized possessions. This summer he was allowed to keep his trunk and school things in his room. His window was open all day and night so Hedwig, his snowy owl, could swoop in and out at her leisure. Still, though, several items remained under the floorboard. Harry did not trust the Dursleys, especially when they were acting out of fear.

The loose floorboard came up easily and Harry pulled out an old pillowcase. Inside was his invisibility cloak, his photo album with pictures of his parents, ink, quills, parchment, and some books. His broom was still at Hogwarts. He had been too distracted at the end of the year to ask for it back, not that he could use it in the muggle suburb. His wand was on his person at all times in case of emergency. He pulled out a sheet of parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink. He had to write to one of the few people he would rather not see ever again. Sitting at the desk in his room he composed the letter carefully, as interception of owls was a possibility.

Professor,

I regret many of my actions of this past year. I wish to return to my studies. If you agree we can start whenever you are ready.

He left it unsigned. If Snape couldn't figure out what he meant, or who it was from, then Dumbledore would surely be able to. Harry leaned back and waited for Hedwig to return from hunting. He rubbed his forehead. That gesture was becoming more and more common, as his scar itched on a constant basis now. On occasion it would burn, and Harry would know that Voldemort was either particularly pleased, or very angry. The pain flared after nightmares and he often woke fighting the impulse to scream his head off. Screams would wake his uncle, though, and Harry did not want to find out the result of that.

Hedwig flew in the window and landed on Harry's shoulder. She dropped a dead mouse in Harry's lap and Harry looked at her with raised eyebrows. She hooted and nipped his ear as if to say, 'Look, I've brought you a present.'

"Thanks Hedwig, but I'll live with what the Dursleys give me. You can have the mouse," he smiled as he stroked her feathers. "I need you to take this to Professor Snape. It's not addressed so give it only to him, and only get near him if he's at Hogwarts or alone. Don't go anywhere near any Death Eaters, girl."

He tied the parchment to her leg and she gave him an indignant hoot, 'Of course not, I'm not stupid.' Hedwig then gave him an affectionate nip on his ear. She flew out his window and disappeared into the night, flying faster than he had ever seen her fly before. She too had learned from the events of the previous year.

Harry lay back down on his bed. He closed his eyes and worked on clearing his mind. It was difficult with all the events of the past year racing through his mind. He gave up and thought of all the things he could have done differently. He had done this many times already and was convinced that he had made some poor choices, but would probably have done the same again if he relived it all. It was his nature to rush in and act before thinking. Now he would have to train himself so next time he rushed to the rescue he would be prepared.

For all he knew next time would be the last time. The prophecy did state that either Voldemort would kill him or he would kill Voldemort. Harry did not want to be a murderer, had no idea if he even could kill, but he wanted to live. So in order to live, he would have to kill. This thought alone was enough to cost him many hours of sleep, even without the nightmares and visions.

Knowing he would not be able to sleep, Harry got out the defense books that Sirius and Remus had given him for Christmas. Just looking at them brought up memories of his godfather and Harry had not been able to open them since that night at the Department of Mysteries. Bile rose in his stomach and his head pounded. Harry pushed back his grief. Getting himself killed would be an insult to Sirius's sacrifice for him, and his mother's and father's as well.

Harry read until the words blurred. He practiced the wand movements of various offensive and defensive spells with an empty hand. He didn't dare work on them with his wand in hand, in case he accidentally performed magic. The last thing he needed to do now was get expelled. He was working on shields when he started to feel a deep exhaustion. He summoned just enough energy to put his books away before he fell asleep.

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Minerva McGonagall sat down to breakfast in the great hall at Hogwarts. She leaned her cane against the single table in the cavernous room. As usual, she was the first to breakfast. Her morning walks were shorter this year than they had been for her past forty years at Hogwarts. The attack during the Astronomy O.W.L. had left her with a painful limp which the healers assured her would go away soon. At fifty-nine she healed a bit more slowly than she used to.

She massaged her right knee as she considered breakfast. A true Scottish woman, she had a large breakfast each morning. She piled eggs, baked beans, fried toast, and sausage onto her plate. She had finished her food and was enjoying her tea when the other professors that stayed over the holidays began trickling in.

Severus Snape was the first to join Minerva, as usual. He grunted in response to her cheerful hello. Severus was not a morning person. As she thought about it, he was not an afternoon or evening person either. Severus tended to be irritable regardless of the hour of the day. She chuckled softly, drawing a scowl from the younger man. As much as he taunted Sirius Black for being stuck at Grimmauld Place by Albus, Severus was equally stuck at Hogwarts. If he left the castle for a holiday Voldemort would call him with much greater frequency.

The table was soon as full as it would get that morning. Sibyl would no doubt stay in her tower. The only thing that could pull her away was some ridiculous vision in her crystal ball. Albus was sitting a few seats up from her and chatting with Hagrid, who was exhibiting many fewer bruises than last term. Albus had told him in no uncertain terms that he was to find a new home for his little brother. Having the small giant in the forest was a danger to the students. Hagrid had eventually found a clan of giants that would accept him, and Grawp had left.

They still needed a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for the upcoming term. As things stood the only instruction the students would get would be from Harry Potter's secret club from last term, granted that it continued this term. She would not be surprised if Potter was in no shape to continue teaching his fellow students. Now that the Ministry acknowledged Voldemort's return and reinstated all of Albus's titles they were not about to interfere in the running of Hogwarts again. The Minister had also received countless howlers from parents concerning Dolores Umbridge. The thought of that woman getting what she deserved brought a small smile to Minerva's lips.

All those ridiculous Educational Decrees had been revoked and the students who had been part of the Inquisitorial Squad had had their prefect status revoked or, in the cases of those who weren't prefects, had a significant number of points deducted for next term. Slytherin would start with a negative number of points in the fall. All of those students were on probation of sorts and faced expulsion if they stepped one foot out of line. They were also on a Ministry watch list and, according to Severus, Voldemort was extremely displeased with the amount of attention they had attracted.

Anne Vector, who had been in the same year as Severus but in Gryffindor, was trying to draw the glaring Potions Master into conversation. The Arithmancy Professor would never give up. She was convinced that somewhere inside the Potions Professor was a human being. Minerva had seen evidence that there was, but was not about to share it with Anne. Watching her efforts to draw out the stubbornly private man was too amusing. Severus would never react to Anne's tactics. The only thing that brought him to life was strong wit and Albus and Minerva were the only ones at the school that succeeded. Oddly enough, Sirius Black had once been counted in that group as well. Had life progressed differently the two would have been great friends.

Just as Minerva was contemplating heading up to her office to work on her lesson plans for the next year she saw the morning's owl post arriving. Several owls with the Daily Prophet tied to their legs flew in. Each professor at the table received a copy. There were a few other owls with personal correspondence, including Harry Potter's snowy owl. She was probably carrying her update for Albus. Harry had sent his first owl right after he arrived at the Dursleys and sent her every third day. Sometimes she went to Grimmauld Place and one of the Order members there, or to Mad-Eye Moody's house. Amusingly, the paranoid ex-auror had grown fond of the owl and lavished owl treats on her whenever he saw her. When the owl landed in front of Severus, Minerva looked at the Potions Master with undisguised surprise.

All conversation at the table had stopped as the bird hooted and ruffled her feathers importantly before sticking out her leg for Severus to untie the attached parchment. After he did she dipped her beak into his pumpkin juice for a quick drink and flew off to the owlery to rest before bringing a reply back to Harry. Severus did not even react to the bird using his goblet, the only sign of his obvious surprise.

Minerva noticed as he unfolded the parchment that it had no address, a wise move on Harry's part. As he read the letter Severus's eyes widened for no more than a heartbeat. If Minerva had not been looking for such a reaction she would have missed it. Severus stood and held her gaze for a moment, his eyes darting towards the headmaster's office and back. He gave Albus no sign, as the headmaster would know the instant Severus entered his office. The Potion Master's robes billowed behind him as he left the great hall, a scowl on his face. He looked as though he would like to grind the sender of the letter into a fine paste and use him in a potion, but his momentary slip earlier told Minerva otherwise.

Even though she left before Albus, Minerva was the last of the three to enter his office. She could not wait to get rid of that blasted cane. She did not even have the freedom of her tabby cat form as the animagus transformation was rather painful with her injury. She sat down in a chair next to Severus as Albus read the letter, his blue eyes twinkling. He passed the letter to Minerva and she saw that it was only a few lines, with no signature.

"He has learned discretion at least," she remarked. "No indication of who the letter is meant for, no specifics in the letter, and no signature. His writing is distinctive though, so anyone who had seen it before could identify the writer."

"What do you make of this Severus?" Albus asked.

Severus snorted, "No doubt the brat wants to continue Occlumency, though I don't know why he wrote me about it. I would expect him to run to you first."

"That is most likely why he wrote to you Severus," Minerva responded with a smile. Harry Potter gave her so much material to use with the Potions Master. "He has swallowed his pride. Can you do the same?"

The challenge caused Severus to grind his teeth. He most certainly had no desire to spend any more time teaching Harry Potter, but his ego would not let a Potter best him at anything.

"Swallowed his pride? I would say he is showing his usual arrogance. He assumes that we will do whatever he wants," Severus ranted; clearly his anger was beginning to boil up. Minerva gave him a hard look. Seventeen years was a ridiculous amount of time to hold a grudge.

"Now Severus," Albus began with a slight warning in his tone, "if Harry assumed that he would not be with the Dursleys now. If there is anything the boy is not, it is arrogant. That is only a mask he wears for the general public and your House. Certainly you know all about carefully constructed masks."

Minerva smiled. The outcome of this meeting was obvious, no matter how hard Severus fought it.

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Harry stood at the kitchen sink washing the breakfast dishes. The washing was much easier with Dudley's diet. There was no cheese in the house, no sticky desserts, and no creamy sauces. With fruits and vegetables making up the majority of the meals Harry had plenty of time for his other chores. He held no illusions about the threats from the Order getting him out of the manual labor the Dursleys demanded of him each summer. The only thing it stopped was the constant verbal abuse and the threats. His aunt and uncle had stopped hitting him years ago, though Uncle Vernon did still lose control occasionally. If Harry stayed out of the way he could avoid it. Dudley was too afraid, especially after their encounter with the dementors.

He finished up the last of the dishes and went upstairs to change into scruffier clothes. His aunt had decided that the garden needed weeding and he wanted to get it out of the way before it got too hot outside. He threw on a pair of Dudley's old shorts and a t-shirt that was at least five sizes too big for him. The rope he used as a belt was fraying. He tucked his wand into his belt and went out to the garden.

An hour later his sleeves were rolled up and his hands were filthy. He had donned a pair of his Aunt Petunia's old gardening gloves when he noticed a cluster of stinging nettles amongst the irises. His aunt must have left them for him, not willing to risk her own hands swelling to twice their normal size. When the nettles were thrown in the wheelbarrow with the other weeds Harry ripped off the gloves and wiped his forehead with the hem of his shirt. The day was promising to be unusually hot. He snorted; that was probably the reason Aunt Petunia saved the weeding for today.

A loud 'crack' echoed in the late morning air and Harry whipped his wand out, searching for signs of another wizard. He had no doubt that someone had either just apparated or disapparated nearby. It could be whoever was probably guarding him at that moment... or some threat. Seeing no sign of any other person did not relieve him now that he had read of all the spells and potions for invisibility.

After a few moments he relaxed slightly and tried to quiet his breathing so he could listen for any signs of another person. He could hear no other breathing, no rustling of robes or other sounds of movement. In addition there was no way a Death Eater could know where he was. He tried to calm down, telling himself that he could trust Dumbledore, but after his fourth and fifth years at Hogwarts he no longer saw the headmaster as infallible. Slowly, Harry backed towards the door to his aunt and uncle's house.

Once inside he shut and locked the door. A locked door wouldn't stop a wizard, but he would hear them unlocking it. There was a knock at the door and Harry looked out the peephole. The sight of his Potions Master standing on the front step, clad in his billowing black robes of course, was not a pleasant one. Feeling more like Mad-Eye Moody every day Harry considered what question he could ask to make sure it was Snape without pissing him off at the same time. He began firing questions.

"Who is Moony?"

"Remus Lupin"

"Who was disguised as Mad-Eye Moody?"

"Barty Crouch."

"What did he say belonged to him when you found my golden egg on the stairs before the second task?"

"That insolent old piece of parchment you carry around. Now open the damn door Potter!"

Harry braced himself for what was sure to be a trying day. It was definitely Snape at his door.

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