The next morning when Harry woke up, he felt completely drained. As if over the course of one night he had lost everything. The death of his mum and dad felt fresh, like someone had stabbed him in the heart and took a chunk of it. Bitterly he realized that his heart would never be whole again, no one would love him like they had.

He had been close once, to finding love. Sirius wanted to take him in, raise him as a son. With a rush of guilt Harry gasped, he hadn't thought about Sirius at all, not since he had changed into a baby. Harry realized how absolutely self centered he had been. He didn't think about anyone but himself. All at once he started to worry, he hadn't heard much about how Remus or Hagrid were doing. And he hadn't received a single owl from any of his friends, or the DA members, which was certainly very odd.

What if Voldemort got them too, Harry thought suddenly. His body started to shake as his eyes darted around the room. He studied the shadows; afraid someone might pop out and attack.

Below him Snape shifted, his grip around Harry's body tightened. Harry felt comforted and ashamed all at once. He wanted to run away and hide from the shame of needing to be held. But at the same time he wanted to cling tighter, too afraid to be left alone. He felt so utterly vulnerable, standing stark naked at dinner in the great hall would pale in comparison. He tried not to glance up at Snape's face, the last thing he need to see was the man's look of menacing disgust.

"Harry," Snape said uncomfortably, "Do you need something? … A bottle perhaps?"

Harry's head jerked as he turned abruptly to study Snape's face. Never in his wildest dreams did he ever think he'd hear such a comment out of the Potion Master's mouth. Snape looked down at Harry curiously, as if trying to figure him out. Harry didn't respond; he didn't know what to do, the situation was just too awkward.

Snape shifted, apparently to put Harry back down on the ground. But in a panic Harry blurted out, "No!" Unexpectedly Snape stopped and pulled Harry even closer. Harry blushed and tried to bury his face under the man's arm.

"Severus!" he heard Molly's alarmed voice call. Harry looked over to the floo where he saw Molly Weasley approaching. "What happened? Did he get hurt?" Harry watched Molly study him. As her eyes settled on the scar she gasped loudly. "What-"

Snape cut her off, but spoke calmly, "During the night Potter woke up screaming in pain. Apparently as his body ages, old wounds return." Snape didn't elaborate on the night, the hours Harry spent crying for his mum. For this Harry was grateful. As much as he needed comfort he didn't want to be coddled or pitied.

"We should call an Order meeting!" Molly asserted.

"That is a bit of an overreaction Mrs. Weasley," Snape replied. "But of course the decision is Albus Dumbledore's"

"Have you informed him then?" Molly asked as she paced back and forth nervously. She acted as though she felt Harry might drop dead at any moment. Thankfully she didn't try and pick him up, but that was probably due to the fact Harry had wrapped his arms tensely around Snape's arm.

"Yes of course," Snape assured her, "I sent an owl last night." Harry didn't remember this, although that didn't mean much considering the state he was in. Looking around Harry didn't see Hedwig.

"But that could take ages," Molly complained.

Before Snape could respond another figure stepped out of the floo. "Severus, when you need my assistance you should send your patronus," Dumbledore chided. He stopped talking at once when he noticed the scar on Harry's forehead. Having more self-control he didn't gasp as Molly did. "Curious, I thought Harry would be free of that."

Dumbledore reached out to touch Harry's forehead. Knowing it would hurt; Harry leaned back closer to Snape. At this Dumbledore looked surprised. He glanced up at Snape for some sort of explanation. Harry felt Snape shrug.

What? I didn't want you to touch my forehead, it hurts, Harry wished he could explain. But then Harry understood why Dumbledore was surprised; it was a bit odd for Harry to snuggle up close to Snape. Embarrassed Harry tried to scoot away, to be as far from Snape as possible, but still safe on the man's lap.

"What are we going to do?" Molly asked direly.

"The topical Pain Draught seems to be working just fine," Snape curtly replied.

"Severus," Dumbledore scolded and then continued with a question. "Will increasing Harry's potion strength make him live through other injuries as well?"

Harry twitched; he didn't like the sound of that. "I don't know," Snape replied, "but so far this is the only one we have seen. I doubt a child as clumsy as Potter would have lasted long without some sort of fall or scratch."

"He hasn't gotten any injuries here," Molly pointed out.

"Alas we will have to take the risk," Dumbledore explained, "as there is no other option." After a brief moment of silence he added in a much happier tone, "shall we have breakfast?"

At that everyone got up and walked over to the table. Snape carried Harry with a bit more distance as if he didn't care to be caught with a baby. Molly had brought along a basket full of food and pulled out a steaming pot of oatmeal.

Snape quickly slipped Harry into his highchair and attempted to walk away. Harry grabbed a bit of Snape's robe and held on tightly. Staring up at Snape Harry's eyes gave the man a look that pleaded for him to stay.

"Headmaster?" Snape asked, sounding uncomfortable. Harry didn't hear Dumbledore reply, but suddenly Snape's demeanor changed. This was a Snape Harry recognized. The man looked down at him with sheer annoyance and swatted at his hand as though Harry was some disgusting bug.

Instantly Harry let go and turned away. He covered his face with his hands afraid he might cry. Snape stalked away and disappeared up the stairs.

"Harry," Dumbledore comforted, "Professor Snape needs some time to compose himself."

Harry regained control and tried to look impartial. He didn't want anyone to notice that for a moment he actually thought Snape might have cared for him. Molly sat down a plastic bowl full of oatmeal and handed him a small plastic spoon. Clumsily Harry started to eat as the others sat down to eat as well. They had to scoot some of Snape's potions across the table in order to provide enough space.

"How is Ronald doing?" Dumbledore politely asked.

"Oh he's been well for awhile now," Molly answered. "Soon he and Ginny will be leaving for Romania to visit Charlie."

"So you'll be free to spend more time here?"

"Yes," Molly sighed. "Please don't misunderstand," she added quickly, "I care deeply for Harry. It's just… He doesn't seem to want me around." Molly sounded hurt. This made Harry feel bad, he knew that Molly cared about him, and he had been increasingly rude to her.

"You will try," Dumbledore implored.

"Yes of course," Molly replied. Harry noticed that they both reached an agreement about something that remained unspoken. He was curious to find out what, but before he could mumble a question Snape returned.

The Potion Master appeared to have just showered. His hair was combed back and his black robes were pressed. Harry recognized now why Snape was so desperate to leave. He didn't give it much thought before, but Snape had been in his pajamas, with only a wrinkled robe to cover them. His hair had been messy and his feet were in socks. Surely his ego was thoroughly bruised; Harry liked the company.

Snape ignored the others and pulled out a small plate of burnt toast from Mrs. Weasley's basket. He ate standing while he checked over his potions. Harry ignored him and started to drink his juice out of a sippy cup.

After breakfast Molly went home to explain things to her family. Before Dumbledore excused himself, he pulled Snape aside. As if Harry were deaf, or perhaps being a baby had certain privileges, Dumbledore openly scolded Snape.

"You must remain focused," Dumbledore chided.

"Headmaster I really don't think it's going to work," Snape replied dryly. He seemed to avoid looking at Dumbledore. Although clearly Snape was trying to remain composed, Harry was reminded of himself when he was in trouble.

"Well he is certainly worth the effort," Dumbledore continued, "all things considered." Harry knew they were talking about him, he started to worry about their argument. Snape didn't think it would work, was he talking about the potion. Harry didn't want to be stuck as a baby, or to wait years to get back to normal. "It will be better for you as well," Dumbledore warned. Snape stopped working and looked up at the headmaster. After a moment Snape nodded and went back to brewing his potion. Harry couldn't believe what he heard. Was Dumbledore threatening Snape, if he failed to brew the potion would the man be sacked, or worse?

Harry mumbled an apology that no one understood. Dumbledore, reminded of Harry's presence, tried to look more pleasant. He patted Snape on the shoulder and then ruffled Harry's hair on his way to the floo. "Good day gentlemen," he said as he grabbed some powder out of the jar on the hearth.

"Bu bye," Harry said, surprised to find another word he knew. Dumbledore smiled at him before he turned and left.

Harry had finished his bowl of oatmeal and wanted to try again to apologize to Snape. As much as he disliked the man, he didn't want to get him in trouble, not anymore anyway. He crawled up onto the table and inched closer to the potions.

"Back Potter," Snape shouted. He didn't attempt to hide the anger in his voice; the man was beyond livid. Harry tried to mutter an apology, but Snape rushed at him. Harry had the distinct impression that Snape would chuck him across the room.

Thankfully Molly came back through the floo just in time. Surveying the scene, she rescued Harry and carried him to the opposite side of the room. She had an old box stuffed with clothes, likely hand-me-downs from countless Weasleys. As she changed him, Harry didn't put up a fuss. After combing the tangles out of his hair she relaxed and waited for Harry to leave as usual.

But this time Harry thought he would humor her, to try and make her feel better. He sat quietly in her lap trying to fake that he felt comforted. Meanwhile she seemed evenly on edge. Harry knew that she cared for him, but at the same time it seemed forced. He couldn't help but think about all of his friends and wonder how they were doing. At least he knew Ron and Ginny were okay. He tried not to think about Sirius, at the moment he knew there was nothing he could do. Harry felt his body begin to shake, hoping Molly wouldn't notice he crawled down to the ground.

To try and distract himself he started rummaging through his trunk to find something to do. He found the book that he had gotten for his birthday, the one that had been from his mother. He pulled it out of the trunk and carried it over to Molly; maybe she could read it to him like his mother did.

Back in Molly's lap he was a little disappointed with her book reading performance. She sounded awkward and didn't make cute little voices for any of the characters. He pulled the book away from her and held it close. With a sigh her reminded himself that no one could be like his mom.

xxxxx

The next few days followed the same basic pattern. Harry tried to be more dependent on Mrs. Weasley, but to no effect. Whenever Snape left the room he felt inexplicably nervous, like Snape alone could protect him. Meanwhile Snape was worse than ever around Harry, insulting him as much as possible. Nights were especially hard for Harry to bear; he woke up afraid more times than he could count with only a stuffed Hedwig to comfort him. Nightmares about his parents, Sirius, his friends and Voldemort plagued his mind. Silently Harry would suffer; he didn't want anyone to know how desperately scared and alone he felt. He had trusted Snape when he was afraid and now he felt betrayed.

That morning an owl arrived with a letter for Harry. Excited it might be from one of his friends Harry ran over to retrieve it. The owl dropped it quickly and flew away, apparently not wanting to be attacked by a baby. He took the envelope in his hands, but was disappointed at once when he realized it was from Hogwarts. Without even bothering to open it he tossed it across the room.

"It's okay dear," Molly encouraged, "you'll be back to your sixteen year old self before you have to go back to school." Harry knew that at least was true. He did not plan to return any other way, if they couldn't get him back to normal he wouldn't go at all.

After lunch Molly picked up Harry and informed him it was time for a nap. Harry was used to this now and although the thought of being alone in his crib was terrifying he didn't complain. Today was different however, Molly accio's Harry's crib and put him down to sleep in the kitchen. Harry laid down and pretended to fall asleep instantly.

"I have to go and get Ron and Ginny off the train," Molly explained to Snape. The man didn't respond, so Molly continued to speak, "Harry should sleep for two and a half hours or so, he usually does." She looked back at Harry to make sure he was in fact asleep. Snape never responded, so Molly went over to the floo and left.

Harry tried not to move, but reached out to take hold of his Hedwig. He felt safer down in the kitchen, knowing Snape was near. Sleep came quickly for him, but it was anything but pleasant. He awoke first after dreaming of Professor Umbridge and detentions where he had to scratch lines into his own arm. The memory wasn't too terrible so Harry drifted easily back to sleep. His next nightmare left him a little more frazzled- the image of Voldemort's sickly body as it sucked blood from the unicorn burned in his mind. He rolled over as quietly as possible and tried to force himself back to sleep. Molly wasn't back yet, so he knew his time wasn't up. As usual he woke up several more times, each dream got a bit worse. The last one was too much and he inadvertently let out a whimper. He tried to remind himself that Sirius would never treat him harshly, that the dream was just a twisted image the pendant had shoved in his mind. His body started to shake again, as it seemed to do often. Harry heard footsteps coming; he tried to feign sleep, although there was nothing he could do about the involuntary quiver of his body.

A warm hand rested gently on his back. Harry could feel his worries start to slip away as his body relaxed. But without warning the hand jerked away.

"Oh shit," Snape muttered mostly to himself. Harry sat up to find out what was wrong. Snape stood cradling his arm closely. "I have to go Potter," Snape said quickly. "Molly will be back shortly." With a pop Snape disapparated.

Harry stood up and stared dumfounded at the space once occupied by Professor Snape. He didn't know what to make of the situation, but figured Snape had been called away by Voldemort. Not knowing what else to do, Harry laid back down and looked up at his quidditch mobile. He didn't think he would fall back asleep so he was surprised to find himself in a dream.

He was on a train, one not all that dissimilar to The Hogwarts Express. Ron sat stuffing his face with a pile of sweets and meanwhile Ginny leaned against the wall fast asleep. They both seemed to be alone in the compartment so Harry tried to say hi, but they didn't notice him.

Suddenly the train lurched and he could hear the squeal of the breaks. Ginny woke startled and looked over to Ron who appeared equally surprised. A few compartments up voices started to scream. Ron and Ginny leapt to their feet and pulled out their wands.

"Stay back," Ron commanded to his sister as he opened the compartment door to lean out. All of a sudden a loud blast rocked his brain, as Harry woke slowly, Voldemort's cackle echoed in his mind.

Becoming aware of the room, Harry tried to cast off his dream as if it were nothing. But it seemed as though enough time had passed, surely Mrs. Weasley should be back now. He couldn't help but think that something had to be wrong.

Trapped in his crib he tried to figure out a way to get free. He tried leaning his weight to the side of the crib in order the cause it to tip over but had no such effect. He tried to swing a leg up in order to climb out, but fell backwards instead and hit his head. Frustrated he flung his plushie Hedwig across the room, instantly he regretted doing so. Desperately he tried climbing out of the crib again, trying a different tactic this time. He pulled up with his arms and then pushed up with his feet. But with socks on, his feet would slip down the wooden bars of the crib. Filled with resolve Harry ripped off his socks and tried to climb again. He was more successful this time, but when he reached the top his body teetered on the edge, threatening to fall forward and bring him crashing to the stone floor. So he leaned backwards and allowed himself to fall back into the crib. With a plan Harry climbed again, this time he stopped at the top and clung tightly in order to swing his legs over. After doing so the momentum was too great for him to hold on and he fell to the floor. Landing on his butt he felt grateful, for the first time, that he was wearing a diaper.

Now that he was free he crawled over to his stuffed Hedwig before he contemplated what to do next. He had to find a way to get help, but he didn't know what to do. He got up and walked over to the floo, if only he could reach the floo powder he could probably call someone to help.

He went over to the table and grabbed one of the chairs. Slowly he dragged it closer to the fire- it was surprisingly hard work. Getting close enough Harry climbed up quickly onto the chair only to be disappointed by the fact he was still too short. If only he had his wand, he knew exactly what he could do. Since returning from the Department of Mysteries the wand had been kept hidden, apparently it wasn't the safest thing for a baby to have.

And then Harry remembered his birthday present from the Weasley twins, the bundle of different colored wands. He didn't know how or if those wands would help him, but he had to try. With the pile of different colored wands in his hands he studied each one to decide which to try first. He wished that the twins had left instructions on exactly what they each did.

He held up the blue wand first and waved it. Nothing happened, perhaps he was supposed to say something first. But Harry new he wouldn't be able to say much, especially in Latin. Frantically he flicked the wand again, just hoping perchance that something would happen. A jet of blue light shot out of the end of the wand, narrowly missing Hedwig perched in the rafters. The light started to fill the ceiling, afraid Harry dropped the wand and no more light escaped. For a moment the light lingered above him and Hedwig, who was now standing on the floor a short distance from Harry. Without warning the light erupted into many simultaneous blue flashes, much like fireworks. Hot burning sparks floated down throughout the room.

Harry crawled under the table after one spark had landed on his arm and gave him a sharp burning pain. Hedwig had also worked her way under the table as well. Harry sat and watched the multitude of sparks fall down from ceiling. One, or perhaps many had managed to set fire to Harry's bed linens. Above him on the table Harry heard disastrous reactions, as some of the potions didn't react too kindly to the bombardment of sparks. Some time passed before the room quieted, only a smoldering crib remained.

Harry tentatively crawled out from under the table and walked back over to the floo. He looked up at the jar of powder, which might as well have been miles away. He knew better than to try another wand, smoke still filled the room from the last one.

Filled with frustration Harry thought, if only I had my wand. I could hold it up, Harry extended his arm as if he was holding his wand, and I could command accio floo powder. Before he could contemplate his inability to talk as well, something hit him hard on the forehead. The jar of floo powder shattered as it hit the floor.

He looked over to Hedwig, to make sure she hadn't knocked it off the mantel. But she was still huddled safely under the table. Harry, not willing to waste time thinking over the matter, he scooped up a bit of powder and tossed it. 'Dumbledore's Office,' he tried to command.

Nothing happened, but perhaps he could firechat. He tossed more floo powder into the fire and tried to say a command again. Slowly he reached his hand in, unsure if it actually worked, he didn't want to burn his face. Feeling pain he jerked his hand back quickly. He wasn't fast enough though and his hand started to turn red and bubbled.

Clutching his hand close he tried not to cry, but pouted quietly instead. Hedwig flew over to him with a concerned expression. She gave Harry an idea; he went back over to his trunk and pulled out a bit of parchment and a quill. He tried to write something but only a few scribbles came of it. Folding the parchment clumsily, he held it out and tried to say, "Dumbledore." At first the words came out completely incoherently, but as he repeated the name over and over he finally managed to say something like, "dum door."

Hedwig, as if she understood, grabbed the folded parchment in her talons and flew upstairs. Hopefully she continued up to Harry's room and out the window to find Dumbledore. But Harry had no way to know; all he could do now was wait.

He picked up his plushie Hedwig and started to pace in front of the floo. At any moment he expected Snape to step out, or Molly or Dumbledore… someone… At least he hoped so anyway. As time passed he worried more and more, to no surprise his body started to shake once again. It was worse now that he was actually cold. He had slipped off his socks to escape the crib and no doubt they were now part of the burning rubble.

He paced until he was too tired to stand anymore and so he sat staring at the floo. After more time passed he couldn't sit up right and submitted to lying down. Harry was later startled awake by a loud pop. With all of his strength he looked up to see Snape.

The Potions Master looked briefly around the room and relaxed after seeing Harry, who was crawling over. Snape picked up the baby and studied him. Meanwhile Harry studied Snape; the man didn't look to well. Snape took out his wand and muttered some commands, but they didn't see all that coherent. The spell never the less worked as a canister came flying down the stairs. Snape opened it and a moment later he was rubbing some cream over Harry's burns.

"Nape?" Harry asked touching the man's face.

Snape looked so strained and Harry couldn't make out why. Finishing treating Harry's wound he just let go of the canister and let it fall to the floor. At the same moment Snape's legs buckled, causing him to fall to his knees. The whole time he held onto Harry tightly, protectively.

"Nape!" Harry asked, with more alarm.

Weakly Snape pulled out a vial from his robe pocket and just after drinking it he fell limply to the floor.

Harry fell softly at Snape's side and quickly got up to his feet. "Nape!" he shouted shaking the man's shoulder, but Snape didn't respond. Harry was reminded of his mum, images of her dead body hung in his mind. At least Snape was still breathing, although it seemed labored. "Nape!" he shouted again.

"Potter, give me a minute," Snape groaned. Feeling relieved Harry leaned over and hugged Snape's arm. Neither of them moved for awhile and Harry felt himself fall asleep.

He didn't know how much time had passed before he felt Snape stand. By the time Harry finished rubbing his eyes to look around Snape had done a series of charms to make himself more presentable. In the end Snape looked pretty normal, for Snape, although he was still a bit stiff.

Without Snape's warmth Harry was becoming very cold, he didn't shiver, but somehow Snape noticed. He picked Harry back up nonchalantly and surveyed the room. By now the crib was nothing more than a pile of ash. Several scarred marks covered his trunk, but thankfully the contents were still okay. However several of Snape's cauldron's had exploded sending globs of unfinished potions haphazardly across the table. One area had melted its way completely to the ground and was threatening to melt through the floor as well.

"What did you do to the place Potter," Snape said, attempting an angry tone. But mostly Snape sounded over tired and drugged.

Harry tried to look innocent, which probably wasn't all that difficult for a baby, but Snape didn't buy it. He did a few Reparo charms and crib was back to normal. He used Evanesco for most of the spilt potions; it seemed only two cauldrons were salvageable.

Snape paused before he fixed the jar of floo powder. "How did you manage to get this?" he asked as he sat the repaired jar back onto the mantel.

Excitedly Harry kicked his feet to show that he wanted to be put down. Standing on the floor he went through the exact same motions as before. He didn't know if it would work again, but he had to try just in case. Holding out his little hand he thought, accio floo powder. Nothing happened. But unwilling to give up he tried again, this time imagining the floo powder coming. Amazingly he saw the jar leap off the mantel in his direction. Instinctively he covered his head with his arms before the jar could hit him again.

Snape caught the jar and put it back in its place. Harry looked up at him with a proud smile. "Interesting," Snape commented to himself. He walked towards Harry ready to pick him up, but stopped when three more figures popped into the room.

"Is everyone okay," Dumbledore asked with his wand raise. McGonagall and Moody were flanking him, both just as ready for battle.

"Albus, everything is okay," Snape answered.

Dumbledore openly sighed in relief, "When I got the letter, I thought Voldemort had distracted us again, drew us out to the countryside in order to attack Harry."

"He wouldn't be able to find the house," Snape clarified. "And what is this letter you're talking about?"

Dumbledore held out the crumpled bit of parchment that had Harry's scribbles on it. "Hedwig delivered it, I assume it can only be from one individual." He looked intently down at Harry.

Harry didn't know what to say, he tried to explain, but all that came out was a bunch of garbled words followed by "Nape."

"Perhaps you could explain Severus," Professor McGonagall suggested.

"I was called away to a meeting," Snape said calmly. "It seems Potter here was in a tizzy and Mrs. Weasley was gone. I must admit I am surprised Harry's letter has brought you all."

Snape gracefully pulled out a chair and sat down. If Harry didn't know any better, he wouldn't have found Snape's actions out of the ordinary. But Harry knew that only a little while earlier the man had crumbled to the floor. Obviously Snape was still not well, out of concern Harry walked over to the man. Snape ignored him.

"There was an attack," Dumbledore said and then asked "Where you there?"

"No," Snape replied, "And neither were Voldemort, Pettigrew or Lucius."

"They were with you?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"Obviously," Snape answered losing his patience. Harry reached out to Snape in order to get the man's attention. Snape didn't looked down at him, instead he shouted, "Back Potter!" Harry backed slowly away, feeling a little hurt. "Accio Potter's potion," Snape commanded with a flick of his wand and tossed the bottle down to Harry. "About the attack," Snape continued, "I could use more details."

"Voldemort didn't tell you about it?" asked McGonagall.

Tired of clarifying the obvious Snape didn't respond.

"Death eaters attacked a train," Dumbledore informed him.

That startled Harry and he muttered a bunch of incoherent questions.

Realizing some of Harry's concern Dumbledore pointed out, "No one was killed. A few injured parties were sent to St. Mungos, but they should heal just fine." The others all sat down at the table to discuss the incident further. Harry was reminded of just how tired he felt and wondered what time it was.

"Drink your bottle Potter," Snape snapped, "or I'll shove it down your throat."

No one chastised Snape for his comment, a fact that Harry found a bit odd. He stood there bewildered for a minute but then quickly stuck the bottle in his mouth when Snape moved. He crawled further under the table so that no one could see him.

After a little while Arthur Weasley and Kingsley Shacklebolt joined the meeting. Harry was having trouble hearing them. Swallowing his pride he climbed up into a chair and after a sharp look from Snape he continued drinking his bottle.

Harry had a difficult time paying attention. He caught only some of the details about the incident. Seven people were injured. There had been four death eaters, all of which escaped. The Aurors along with Dumbledore and McGonagall had arrived just in time to stave of disaster.

Falling asleep, Harry nearly fell off of his chair, Snape caught him. For a moment Harry thought Snape might actually hold him, but was stuffed into the highchair instead. Thrusting the bottle into Harry's hands Snape turned back to the discussion.

Arthur was explaining that Mrs. Weasley would be preoccupied for the next few days and wouldn't be able to return. Ron had been on the train and although suffered only a minor injury, he had lost a lot of blood. Harry felt relieved to know that Ron was going to be okay and dropped his bottle as he nearly slipped off to sleep again. Snape growled, clearly livid and Harry tried to apologize.

This time it was Arthur who rescued him. He picked up Harry and cradled him. He held the bottle so that Harry's limp arms could relax.

"Make sure he drinks it all," Snape commanded.

If Arthur responded or not Harry didn't catch it. He would fade off to sleep only to be nudged awake to finish drinking. Finally Harry sucked down the last of the wretched liquid and could go to sleep. He no longer cared to fight it; he was just too tired.

He woke up briefly as he was passed over to Professor McGonagall. Is she patting my butt? he thought before sleep could claim him. He woke up again as he was passed to Dumbledore. Apparently everyone was having fun taking turns holding baby Harry, if he had the strength, he would be irritated.

He fell back asleep and began to dream. His mind wandered off to the moments after the Triwizard Tournament, when he had been taken away by Barty Crouch, disguised as Moody. He remembered the fleeting moments when he thought he was cornered. Oddly enough he woke up in the arms of Alastor Moody. Under normal conditions Harry didn't find the man too intimidating. But half asleep he caught a glimpse of his magical eye darting around unnaturally and thought that he was back in the hands of Crouch. Startled Harry woke up completely; he wiggled free and climbed on to the table.

He looked around for someone to escape to, only Dumbledore, the Aurors and Snape remained. He didn't care what Snape had to say, he was scared, and he wanted him.

Harry crawled quickly across the table as the others stared at him. He didn't care about his pride anymore; maybe when he was back to his sixteen-year-old self he could pretend he didn't remember anything.

"Stay back Potter," Snape warned. But Harry didn't listen and kept crawling. Snape got up from the table and backed away.

Harry sat at the edge of the table and held up his hands. "Up Nape," he commanded. Snape glanced uncomfortably towards the Headmaster; meanwhile Harry was starting to shake again. Whatever Dumbledore did, Harry didn't see, but Snape picked Harry up and started patting him on his back. Harry laid his head down on Snape's shoulder and felt the fear melt away.

"I was there for him," Snape explained, "the night his scar returned. Mrs. Weasley should have been there, but she was with her idiot son. This is not my fault."

"Did Voldemort sense anything?" Dumbledore asked calmly.

"No," Snape replied dryly. Harry could hear the others leaving quietly through the floo. The men didn't continue talking until it seemed the others were gone.

"Will it work?" Dumbledore asked with more vigor, "is the bond strong enough?"

"At the moment I do believe it is," Snape replied.

"This will not bode well for you," Dumbledore chided. "Alas the alternative is worse. But please tell me, are you looking for atonement?"

"No."

A long pause followed. Most likely Dumbledore was studying Snape over to make sure the man was being completely honest. Changing the subject Dumbledore asked, "Do you think the Death Eaters were after Ron and Ginny specifically?"

"Yes."

"Do you believe Voldemort will send others after Hermione?"

"Yes."

"What about Harry's other friends, like the members of the DA?"

"I don't know."

"Would Voldemort gain any tactical advantage by killing any of them?"

"No."

Again Dumbledore changed the subject, "Have you finished Harry's potion?"

"Yes," Snape replied in a more relaxed tone. "Although it would be best to test it out after he is well rested. Tomorrow at noon." Neither man spoke for awhile. Harry could hear Dumbledore walking over to the floo.

"Are you okay?"

Snape wavered a moment before answering, "Yes."

"What did Voldemort want?"

"The same as you actually," Snape replied, "to know the status of my potion. Unfortunately I've been spending most of my time on the Age Accelerator and I've been neglecting his."

"What did Voldemort do?"

Snape hesitated, clearly he didn't want to answer. Harry could imagine Dumbledore's eyes staring over his half moon spectacles. "Cruciatus," he quietly replied. Harry tried to hug Snape tighter. Harry knew how bad it hurt and felt sorry for the man.

"Severus, I hope you rest well," Dumbledore said, his voice filled with regret. "And I will see you tomorrow at noon."

"Thank you Albus."