Sat opposite Snape once again on his bed, Harry avoided eye contact as much as possible - he didn’t know why, but he just couldn’t get the image of Snape sliding down a wall, blood oozing from the wounds inflicted by Nagini, out of his head. And he could feel that his occlumency shields weren’t up to scratch today - a whole week of early mornings and late finishes and waging war with this stupid house were catching up to him. The bandages around his neck were removed with the flick of Snape’s wand, and even before he had moved, Harry’s hands were being slapped away before he could itch at the exposed skin.