He was staring at the mirror, but not looking directly into it. 
                              
"Your friend Igor is dead, but you already know that, don't you?" Harry spoke.
                              
"My Lord, he was no friend of mine. I told him not to leave and that you would find him, master," said a voice that came from behind him. Harry recognized the snarling voice, though it was not as formidable as usual.
                              
"Severus, you know much in the ways of Occulmency. Too much, I'm afraid," Harry said and turned to face him. Snape was paler than he usually was.
                              
"Master, I only serve you," Snape said, bowing his head slightly. Harry looked directly into his eyes as though looking for the correct answer, but there was none to be found.
                              
"You are resisting me. I can sense that much at least. Lucius might trust you, but he has much to answer for. I am tired of his failures. The question is, 'Are you one of his'?" Harry asked, with a certain malicious delight. Snape would not beg or make up excuses. He knew this. 
                              
"Perhaps, if your defenses were weaker, I can know for certain..." Harry snarled, pulling out his wand with his long, spidery fingers, but Snape did not say anything, though watched the wand with a trace of fear in his eyes. 
                              
"Yes, perhaps I have not been as inquisitive as I should have been.... I know you are hiding something. I want to know what it is... Crucio!" Harry yelled.
                              
Instinct woke Harry up before the pain hit him. He did not want to be trapped again as he felt stabs of pain across his forehead. His head felt as though a brick had fallen on it. Everyone was sleeping besides Ron, who still was not there. Harry rolled into his side. He felt another burning stab of pain and another, but it then subsided. He helped himself to a glass of water on his nightstand. The only thing he knew was that Snape was somewhere being tortured. Was he still alive? Did he tell Voldemort something? Harry did not know. He thought of telling Sirius, but he was gone.
                              
Ron came in finally and got into bed without changing. Neither of them said anything. Ron fell asleep quickly, but it took a while for Harry to fall into an uneasy sleep. His scar kept waking him up throughout the morning. It was tinkling and he felt a kind of anger that he could not account for. It reassured him that Snape was probably alive, though he wondered why he cared. He finally drifted off into an interrupted sleep and Ron actually had to wake him up in the morning. He was fully dressed and said he would meet him downstairs. Everyone was gone already.
                              
He got up and dressed quickly, but then he remembered his mother's wand. He got out the wand holder and fitted it around his shin without difficulty. The holder came with instructions for a charm that will keep the wand in place unless the person who enchanted it removed it with their hand. It would resist Disarming and Summoning Spells, he read. No one can take it from him, at least easily. He performed the charm and tested it. It withheld the Summoning Charm. He decided that he would always wear it and would tell no one about it. He grabbed his bag and headed downstairs, where Ron and Hermione were impatiently waiting for him.
                              
"What took you?" Ron asked, impatiently.
                              
"Couldn't find my Defense Against the Dark Arts book," he said, having already thought up an excuse.
                              
"Oh, let's go eat," Ron said.
                              
They ate a quick breakfast and tore off to Hagrid's a bit early. It was a clear day. The snow had decreased to about three or four inches. Hagrid opened the door of his hut, before they got there and beckoned them in. They noticed he had a healing bruise on his face.
                              
"Did yeh've a good Chris'mas?" he asked pouring some tea. 
                              
"Yes, fine. How's Grawp?" Hermione asked, inquisitively, avoiding looking at Hagrid's face.