Ah, the final chapter. I'm almost sad to see it end. I apologize for the long overdue update, but I had tests and mid-terms, and then I was on Spring Break barbequing my pasty white behind in Thailand last week. Anyway, thanks to everyone that stuck around and followed this through to the end. It was a blast writing.

Twenty House points to The Artema. I'm glad you picked up on the subtle nuance I was trying to give the story by using the phrase 'his Potion master' when talking about Snape in reference to Harry. I wanted to try and give the feeling that although Harry and Snape are still somewhat at odds with each other and not quite at a full mentoring type relationship yet, Harry has begun to feel somewhat possessive and protective of the other man - like Snape's unconsciously become one of Harry's own.

Also twenty House Points to Kagome13Chan for the wonderful fanart! I'd give the link to see it here but I'm still trying to figure out how to put it on a website (damn computer illiteracy of mine…) Keep a look out for it soon on my profile page.

So now without anymore further ado, I give you:

Chapter Twenty: The War Wages Ever Closer

The air grew noticeably colder as Harry made his way down the dark, winding stairs to the dungeons. Despite the unseasonably warm April weather outside, there still was a distinct chill in the subterranean air. Cold seemed to seep in from the walls, moisture dampening the rough stonework.

Harry's footsteps echoed loudly down the hall. The school was strangely quiet though excitement hung in the air like an airborne drug. It was the day before Easter vacation and everyone was looking forward to the week long break. Many were going home for the holiday, which for the first time in all his years of Hogwarts included Harry. Sirius had sent him a letter the week before saying him, Ron, Hermione, and the other Weasleys had been given permission from Dumbledore to spend the holiday in number twelve Grimmauld Place. Harry couldn't have been more excited. It would be his first Easter with family and friends and not spent alone in Gryffindor tower.

Now seven weeks after the attack on Hogwarts, the school was finally starting to die back down to its normal level of chaos. Classes had started up again several days after the attack almost as if nothing had even happened.

Almost…

Several students had been pulled out of school by their parents because of the escalating war. Many no longer saw Hogwarts as the same safe-haven it once had been. There was an unspoken tension in the air now, along with the lingering worry that such an attack could happen again. Many were now wondering if anywhere in Britain was safe if Voldemort could make such a direct strike on Hogwarts. The Ministry had made countless statements stating Hogwarts was still safe and that there was no reason to worry. Hogwarts' security (with Dumbledore's permission and cooperation) had been raised to almost lock-down levels. Almost all Hogsmeade trips had been cancelled, and all Quidditch matches were now being supervised by Ministry appointed Aurors to ensure safety and crowd control. Despite all these measures though, concerns still remained.

Besides the increased security, other subtle changes had been noticed around the school. For one, Dumbledore was rarely seen anymore at meals or around the school. He was always away on mysterious "business" which Harry could not prove, but wondered if wasn't really Order business. McGonagall's role of Deputy Headmistress had taken on a whole new meaning. No one had failed to notice how almost all school business now passed through her instead of Dumbledore.

But possibly the most talked about change in Hogwart's power structure was the sudden absence of the dark and foreboding Head of Slytherin. No one had failed to note the Potion master's absence in the days following the attack. Many Slytherins had looked particularly worried when Dumbledore had made an announcement saying Snape was not going to be teaching Potions for the unforeseen future. The general population of Hogwarts believed Snape was still recovering from an injury sustained from the attack. Only Harry, Ron, Hermione, and those teachers inside the Order of the Phoenix knew the truth behind the Potion master's long convalescence. Dumbledore had made sure to swear all of them to secrecy. It would cause nothing but trouble if anyone found out Harry had resurrected Snape from an Avada Kedavra Curse, he'd said. For both Harry's and Snape's sake, no one could find out about what really happened.

No one had broken their promise and the real reason behind Snape's mysterious disappearance had remained a secret. That was not to say, however, people hadn't begun to question the severity of Snape's injuries when three weeks after the attack the man still hadn't made any sort of appearance. Several rumors had even started saying Snape was actually dead (which had earned several slightly hopeful looks from students not just in Gryffindor). Only Harry knew the truth of just how close that rumor had come to actually being true.

Only several days ago Madam Pomfrey had finally released Snape from her care. His recovery had taken much longer than anyone had anticipated - almost two months! - and he still wasn't completely well yet. Even Madam Pomfrey had been worried by Snape's long recovery. It seemed that even though Harry had resurrected Snape from Voldemort's Killing Curse, the spell had still had devastating effects on the Potion master's body. Even two months after the attack, he still remained physically weak and easily tired.

Harry had at first been worried, but the second time he visited Snape after the Potion master had woken up, he'd been slightly heartened by the offhanded sneer he'd received upon entering the room, and then the occasional sharp, biting comments he'd received throughout his visit. Although weak, the Potion master's voice once again contained its usual sarcasm and bite - a far better thing, crazily enough in Harry's opinion, to the dead emptiness the Potion master had spoke with only several days before. Though he couldn't explain the sudden change, he was not about to question it. Over the year he'd grown accustomed to Snape's snark and learned to tune out the man's general unpleasantness (much to his Potion master's chagrin and repeated attempts to tell the boy to leave him alone so he could rest.)

Over the weeks, although Snape had continued to try and dissuade the boy from visiting him (not to much success though considering he wasn't strong enough to incant any hexes - and Harry knew it), the two had struck an odd understanding with each other. Snape no longer seemed to harbor any outright animosity for the boy, although derogatory comments concerning Harry's House and his more noble traits were still to be expected. Harry himself had even begun to feel more comfortable around his once hated professor. Perhaps it was the bond that had allowed him to pull Snape back from beyond the Veil, but Harry often found himself looking forward to his frequent visits with Snape.

But despite this tentative understanding he'd formed with Snape, several issues Harry still felt needed to be addressed had not had the opportunity to come up again since his first visit. And it was because of this and several other reasons Harry knew he had to visit Snape one last time before the start of Easter break.

Turning down another darkened hallway, Harry finally found himself in front of Snape's private office. Suddenly unsure if what he was doing was really that smart, Harry slowly raised his hand and gave a tentative knock.

A muffled voice answered from beyond. "Enter," it called.

Taking a deep breath, Harry gathered his courage and pushed the door open.

Snape's office was dark, lined with shelves of eerily glowing jars of Potions ingredients. Harry was uncomfortably aware of one jar in particular that was filled with pickled eyeballs and staring back at him from one of the shelves.

Forcing himself to focus, Harry spotted his professor on the other side of the room behind his desk, going over what looked like a final batch of Second year Potions essay that'd been assigned before break by Snape's substitute.

Harry was momentarily taken aback by the sight of Snape. Even from across the room it was painfully obvious the Potion master was still recovering from his illness even though he'd finally been released from the hospital wing. Although naturally lean in build, Snape was unhealthily thin, his long black robes hanging off him as though they were several sizes too big. Snape had a slightly wasted look to him as though he'd been partially starved over the last few weeks even though Harry knew Madam Pomfrey had spent a lot of time and effort making sure the man tried to eat. The Potion master's complexion was also shallower than normal, dark circles ringing his eyes. All in all, it looked like Snape should still be laying half conscious somewhere in bed instead of sitting there in his office looking over papers.

Snape glanced up and spotted him. "Potter," he tonelessly greeted. "Shouldn't you be off carousing with your friends somewhere in preparation for the coming holiday?"

Harry swallowed the ball of nervousness that had formed in his throat. "Uh, I suppose, Sir, but there was something I wanted to talk to you about before break…"

Snape set aside the roll of parchment he'd been looking over and leveled an unreadable look at Harry. "I take it this is not just another one of your friendly visits that I've been subjugated to over the last few weeks?"

"Not really, Sir."

Snape curtly nodded to one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Sit down."

Although Harry had lately learned that much of Snape's perceived coldness towards others was just the way he acted regardless of what he actually thought of the person, Harry still felt at times as if he was skating on thin ice with the man. It was a continual guessing game trying to figure out if he was actual welcome in his Potion master's presence or not. It was a fact that Snape now tolerated his presence, and perhaps even accepted it, but there were still times when Harry wondered if Snape had actually set aside his old grudges or was just tolerating him because of their bond.

Harry uncomfortably sat in the directed chair. Snape's leaned back in his own, eyeing his student with dark black eyes. "What's bothering you, Potter?" he said, his voice not necessary warm or inviting but lacking any derision or bite that several months ago would have been reserved exclusively for Harry. "You are not one to act like this unless something's bothering you."

Harry nervously toyed with the hem of his sleeve. "Um… It's just that I don't think I ever properly thanked you for what you did for me - saving my life that is…"

"I see," Snape nodded, the Potion master still not betraying any emotions. "I believe you have already expressed your gratitude throughout the course of my recovery, however overdone it might have been."

Harry shook his head. "I don't think you understand, Sir. I also have to apologize. I should have realized what Voldemort was doing to you sooner. It's my fault he was able to use you to poison Dumbledore and then attack Hogwarts."

"You did take a disgustingly long time to figure out what I was trying to tell you," Snape hissed. Harry cringed down into his seat. "But…" the Potion master reluctantly added after a pause, "you cannot be held accountable for that. There was only so much I could say or do under the Dark Lord's Imperius to try and warn others. At least you were able to figure it out before it was too late…"

Harry, however, still didn't feel relieved of his guilt. "But the stone… I should have figured it out sooner. You kept sending me all those images of it. If I had figured it out sooner then maybe-"

"Potter," Snape snapped, cutting him. "What's done is done. Stop living in the past. You cannot change what you've already done. The most you can do is learn from your mistakes and learn to be more observant in the future. I know you are not as dense as you sometimes act. If you would actually use the intelligence the Fates decided to give you instead of acting like some oblivious Hufflepuff, then maybe you wouldn't find yourself in so much trouble all the time - trouble, I must add, I usually have to get you out of."

"Sorry, Sir…" Harry mumbled, staring down at his hands.

Snape gave a frustrated sigh. "Don't be sorry, Potter. Just learn to pay more attention."

Harry knew that was probably the closest he was ever going to get to forgiveness from his surly Potions master, and slowly looked back up at Snape. It was then that he suddenly noticed a long silver chain hanging around his teacher's neck from which dangled a small sliver of black stone that shined darkly in the dim torch light.

Harry gasped. "Is that…?"

Snape followed Harry's gaze down to the object around his neck. "Ah," he said, realizing what had gained the boy's attention, and held the stone up off his chest for Harry to see. "Yes. It's the stone the Dark Lord used to enslave me."

"But… why?" Harry demanded, unable to understand why Snape would ever want to keep such a thing, let alone wear it.

"This stone," Snape explained, holding the stone shard up the light, "is an extremely powerful object. It has the ability to increases one's natural magic by several times. Although the Dark Lord used it to overpower my ability to fight off an Imperius Curse, it's original creation was not dark in nature. With no other spells working through it, it helps heighten my own magic."

"But is that safe?" Harry said, still staring at the stone distrustfully. "What if Voldemort tries to-?"

"The Dark Lord," Snape sharply cut him off, pointedly emphasizing Voldemort's title as if to warn Harry that was the only thing he'd tolerate coming out of Harry's mouth, "no longer has any control over this stone. He can no longer use it to control me. His power over me was severed when it was removed from my neck. With the Dark Lord's influence gone, it can now be used for it's original purpose - to strengthen a witch or wizard's own power. Ever since my… return… I have found myself prone to sickness and easily tired, especially if I try to do any magic. If I was not wearing this stone right now, I would probably still be in Madam Pomfrey's care in the hospital wing."

Harry stared at Snape, a cold sense of dread settling somewhere in the pit of his stomach. "You're still that sick?" he asked.

Snape refused to meet his eyes as he carefully let the stone shard fall back against his chest. "Unfortunately, yes. Dumbledore was reluctant to let me return to teaching duties once classes resume after Easter vacation, but I refuse to spend any more time in the infirmary under that blasted medi-nurse's care."

Harry snickered, unable to help but feel Snape's pain. He'd often enough found himself in Madam Pomfrey's care and subjected to her smothering attentiveness. But that still did not alleviate the underlying seriousness of Snape's words.

"I'm sorry…" Harry murmured, the weight of the situation crashing back down on him. He wasn't quite sure what he was apologizing for this time. He just knew that his Potion master's sickness somehow always came back to being his fault.

"Stop apologizing, Potter. I can't take anymore of it," Snape grumbled, looking uncomfortable from the teen's obvious distress over his health.

For a moment, Harry didn't answer. But then he slowly looked back up and met Snape's eyes. "I understand the mental flashes I kept getting of the stone now, but I still don't understand if all those visions I had over the year were real. Did Vol- I mean, the Dark Lord really do all that to you?"

Snape seemed to withdraw a little bit into himself, his eyes darkening with unpleasant memories. "Yes. He and Lucius were very angered when they found out I was Dumbledore's spy. They decided my betrayal was not something that could be punished merely once. Even after they'd turned me into the Dark Lord's slave, they were not content until I was cursed to within almost an inch of my life every time I was summoned to give reports."

Harry felt nearly sick to his stomach as random snippets of horrible torture scenes flashed through his memory. "I'm sorry…"

"I told you to stop apologizing, Potter."

"I'm still sorry, Sir."

Snape gave a frustrated huff but didn't yell at Harry again.

"I tried to tell Dumbledore what I saw the Dark Lord doing to you, but he didn't seem to believe me," Harry murmured.

"He did, Potter," Snape replied, his eyes strangely distant. "He just wasn't able to do anything about it. If the Dark Lord found out Dumbledore knew he was using me he probably would have killed me."

"That's what Dumbledore said, but I still don't believe it. He should have been able to do something."

"Sometimes there are situations in which there's nothing you can do, Potter," Snape said. "It's just the way of the world."

"But he didn't do anything," Harry protested. "No even when I told him Vol… the Dark Lord was planning to attack someone in Hogwarts."

"Whatever happened, Potter, it's a moot point now. It no longer matters. Move on with your life. What did I tell you about living in the past?"

Harry sullenly leaned back in his chair, unable to understand how Snape was able to so easily accept what Dumbledore had let happen to him. It was almost like Harry was more upset over it than his Potion master was.

"Did you ever know I was there?" Harry hesitantly asked. "One time I think I even saw my vision as if it was through your eyes."

Snape gave a heavy sigh. "Yes. I cannot exactly say how I knew, only that I felt as if there was someone else there watching. I believe it was because of our Acolant bond that drew your subconscious mind to me whenever I was subjected to the Dark Lord's torture. That probably was also what allowed you to see what was happening as if it was through my eyes that one time instead of through the Dark Lord."

"But what about that one vision of you in the hallway?" Harry said. "The one the night before Dumbledore was poisoned telling me time was running out?"

"That was my desperate last ditch attempt to make you open your eyes and eyes and listen to what I was trying to tell you," Snape snapped.

"But how?" Harry demanded. "You weren't getting tortured by Voldemort or anything, so how was I drawn there?"

"Because I called to you," Snape replied, as if it was the most obvious explanation. At Harry's startled expression, the Potion master gave a disgusted snort. "Oh, don't look so surprised, Potter. You aren't the only one that's learned to reach out through our bond. I knew the Dark Lord was starting to get frustrated with me staling his assassination plot and was going to directly order me to attack Dumbledore. I knew I had to warn someone, and you were my only choice. Because I was under the Dark Lord's curse I knew I couldn't directly tell you. That's why I had to try and warn you through the Acolant bond. Unfortunately, when I tried to warn you, our connection was severed by the Dark Lord summoning me. Luckily though, you actually remembered what you learned in class and managed to save Dumbledore's life later the next day."

"So you really were fighting back against Voldemort…" Harry said with something close to awe. "Even with that stone and Voldemort controlling you, you were still fighting back."

"Of course I was," Snape snorted as if insulted. "After I came back to the Light Side I swore that I would never willingly be someone else's puppet again."

Harry stared at Snape, startled and some uncomfortable by the Potion master's vehement admission. Snape seemed to detect his student's discomfort and carefully changed the subject, as if also glad to move onto other topics.

"Dumbledore told me about your little stunt with the Thestrals during the battle. I was hoping you could explain how you did that. Thestrals are notorious for being near-untamable. How that half-giant Hagrid ever tamed them to the degree he did will forever remain a mystery to me."

"I'm not quite sure, Sir, but ever since the beginning of term I noticed the Thestrals seemed kind of… attrached to me. When Hagrid taught about them in class they wouldn't leave me alone. And during the battle, I don't know, I kind of just asked them to help, and they did…"

"I see," Snape replied, studying Harry closely over the tips of his steepled fingers with unreadable black eyes. "I really wasn't that surprised you are able to commune with them when I first heard what you did."

"What?" Harry stammered. "Why? Even Hermione was surprised when I told her."

"Despite all that little know-it-all's knowledge, Ms. Granger does not know everything," Snape waspishly pointed out. He leaned back in his chair and studied Harry with his penetrating gaze. "I suspect the Thestral's attraction to you is due to your time spent as a disembodied spirit last August - they can smell Death on you, and thus are attracted. I also suspect that is the reason so many of the castle's ghosts are uncomfortable around you."

"You know about that?" Harry said, once again surprised by how much his Potion master seemed to know.

"The Bloody Baron mentioned it to me in passing earlier this term," Snape replied. "He said he felt like he was in the presence of another ghost whenever he was near you, but because you are obviously still alive, he was confused and not sure what to make of it. I believe the same goes for several other ghosts." Snape paused for a moment as if debating whether to go on or not, but then added, "I have noticed them acting strangely around me too now. I believe they can sense I crossed through the Veil and back."

"They have?" Harry said, taken aback. "What about the Thestrals?"

"Luckily, I have not come into contact with any Thestrals lately," Snape sneered. "I have no desire to attract the attention those pet demon-horses."

Harry snickered. "They're not that bad," he playfully insisted.

Snape sneered in reply. "Then that will just have to be another issue you and I beg to differ on…" Giving an almost tired sigh then, Snape glanced over at the stack of scrolls sitting on the corner of his desk. "If there was nothing else, Potter, I must get back to grading. It seems the substitute Dumbledore found to teach my classes during my recovery was much too lenient, and thus many of the students have begun to slack off on their essays." Picking up his grading quill, Snape returned his attention to the scroll he'd been reading when Harry had come in.

Harry however made no move to leave.

"Um… There's actually one more thing I wanted to talk to you about…" he hesitatingly murmured.

Snape looked back up at him. "If it's to apologize about the Dark Lord again, I swear I will not be held responsible for spelling your lips shut until you come back from Easter holiday."

Harry noticeably hesitated. "Well… it's not about the Dark Lord, but I wanted to apologize for looking into your Pensieve before. I know I shouldn't have, but I thought you might have put some memory in it explaining what Vol… what the Dark Lord did to you. I know I shouldn't have looked, but I wanted to find some way to help you. I'm really, really sorry, Sir…"

Snape stared at him, an unreadable expression darkening his features. Harry cringed down into his seat, expecting his Potion master's wrath to explode at any moment.

But the explosion never came.

Giving a heavy sigh, Snape looked away from Harry, his features dissolving into bitter embarrassment. "Thank you, Potter…" he murmured, barely loud enough for Harry to actually hear. "I was actually surprised you did not spread some of your father and god-father's more colorful names for me around school after the way I threw you out that night. I suppose I should actually thank you for that too."

"I'd never do that!" Harry exclaimed, taken aback by his Potion master's apparent passiveness. "What my dad and Sirius did to you was horrible. I'd never tell anyone else what I saw. That would've been wrong."

"But not as wrong as snooping around in someone else's private things?" Snape sharply noted.

Harry felt his face flush with embarrassment. "I'm really sorry, Sir. I know I was wrong. I even yelled at Sirius and Remus for what they did. I would have never thought they'd actually do something like that… I'm really sorry…"

Snape angrily looked away from Harry, his face half hidden behind a curtain of dark black hair. "I would hope so, Potter. Just be sure it doesn't happen again. Because the next time you do something like that, the person's who privacy you violate might decide to do more than just throw you out of the room…"

Harry could hear the underlying threat behind Snape's words. "Yes, Sir. And I'm-"

"-really, really sorry; yes, I know, Potter. Stop apologizing. I'm sick of hearing you say it."

Harry knew then to let the issue drop. He could tell by his Potion master's tone that the topic was now officially closed.

Snape had returned to grading Potions essays - crossing out a section here, leaving a few scathing remarks there - as if he'd already forgotten Harry was still there.

Harry, however, made no move to leave. He quietly sat there listening to the soft scratching of Snape's quill across the parchment and the sharp snap of logs in the fire. It was almost comfortable sitting there like that, Harry mused - the dark, quiet setting somehow calming. But something continued to plague his thoughts…

"What happens now?" he tentatively broke the silence.

Snape slowly looked back up at him. It did not take a master Occlumens to tell there was something troubling the boy. "With what?" he asked.

"With the war," Harry reiterated. "You've lost your position as a spy, Voldemort's stronger than ever, Dumbledore's rarely ever here anymore, the Ministry's half running the school, and the Order lost several dozen people in the attack. If Voldemort doesn't already know you're still alive, he will very soon. And once he does, he'll probably find out about our bond, and then he'll be out for both our blood…"

Snape quietly set the essay he'd been grading aside again and met Harry's eyes, his face grave. "I have no doubt the Dark Lord already knows I am not dead. Nor do I doubt he will eventually find out about our bond. We now stand on the brink of war, Potter. It will not be long until full scale fighting erupts. The Dark Lord's attack on Hogwarts will be nothing compared to the one he will wage on the Ministry of Magic and all those that stand against him. It is now only a matter of time until he comes out of hiding and into the open; and when he does, there will be no more games. It will be all out war."

"But what do we do until then?" Harry asked, looking as frightened and lost as he truly felt.

Snape studied him for a moment, his dark black eyes boring into him. "We wait," he replied, "and prepare. The war will come to us sooner or later. It is now only a matter of time. But until then we must take every necessary measure we can to ensure that we will be ready to meet the Dark Lord head-on when he finally does strike. And one of the first things you must do is learn how to stop the Dark Lord from going through your mind like it's some kind of bloody open book."

Harry stared at Snape. "Do you mean that-?"

"Yes. Dumbledore has asked me to resume Occlumency lessons with you the moment you return from holiday next week. You will meet with me twice a week, and I will not tolerate any more of your halfhearted attempts to learn Occlumency. You will learn how to keep the Dark Lord out of your mind, Potter, or else…"

Harry mutely nodded. He had no doubt in his mind Snape meant to carry through on his threat of 'or else' if he didn't show some sort of drastic improvement. Knowing Snape, it probably wasn't something pleasant…

"Yes, Sir," Harry weakly nodded, finally standing from his chair to leave. "Thank you for talking to me."

"One last thing, Potter," Snape called after him just as he reached the door.

Harry paused and glanced back over his shoulder.

"Although I doubt you will be going back there until summer vacation, if you happen to hear from those Muggle relatives of yours, be sure to say hello to your uncle for me. I doubt he'll have forgotten who I am…"

At first Harry didn't know how to respond. But then with a sly (almost evil) smirk, Harry replied, "I'll be sure to do that, Sir." And then he turned and disappeared through the door, his heart suddenly much lighter than what it'd been for a very long time.

The end… for now.

---

As some of you might have guessed, what had originally started off as a sequel has now becoming the bridge piece of a three part "Kept Behind" trilogy. Although I cannot give any details as to when the third story will come out (I still need to bang out a few plot details), it is in the making and will eventually find its way here onto the site. I hope everyone enjoyed the story and comes back for the sequel of this sequel.

Thoughts? Comments? Questions? Concerns?

Please review, even if you've lurked for the better part of this story. I will be looking forward to hearing what you thought and possibly any thoughts you may have on a third installment. Got any ideas or anything in particular you'd like to see happen in the third story? Please tell me. I'm always open to suggestions.

So till then.

I'm LAXgirl,
signing out

PLEASE REVIEW!