On Thursday morning, Harry woke up groggily. He couldn’t remember where he was at first and grew alarmed. Sitting up quickly, he fumbled blindly for his glasses, found them, and slipped them on his face. Finally able to see, he took in his surrounding and easily discovered where he was. It was the Infirmary. As his memories of the day before rushed back, he trembled from the lasting affect of them. He was so thankful he wasn’t still stuck there with that man in that hellhole. Remembering that Severus had stayed with him last night, he looked to his side. The armchair had been changed back to its original form, the uncomfortable chair, but Severus was nowhere in sight. Harry didn’t know what to think about that, but it didn’t feel too good. Why hadn’t his father stayed with him? Harry took into consideration that the Potions Professor had class today, but he still felt hurt. He knew that most parents would stay with their children after such a traumatic experience, but Severus wasn’t exactly a normal parent. Maybe he didn’t know?

Harry tried not to dwell on it too much; otherwise he’d sink into a well of depression. It was late morning and he was a little bit hungry. The curtain that had divided his bed from the other’s last night was no longer there. He could see the entire Hospital Wing now, but there was no sign of Madame Pomfrey. Had everyone forgotten about him? He dismissed his thoughts; he knew he was being foolish.

He was contemplating his escape from the Hospital Wing when the Madame Pomfrey came in through the doors. “You’re awake.” she stated. Harry thought that was pretty obvious. “How are you feeling?”

He shrugged. How did she think he was? Feeling slightly cranky, he decided the question wasn’t worthy of an answer and remained silent.

Harry watched as Pomfrey quickly bustled over to his bed, lifting her skirts as she walked. She was scowling at him, probably from his lack of response. Suddenly, she went into professional mode and began running a few tests, flicking her wand around his body, nodding to herself, more wand movement, and soon after she began asking questions.

“What happened to your back?” she asked after he had been asked to sit up. Harry tried to twist his head so he could see what she was talking about, but it wasn’t possible. His back was feeling rather sore, though.

Harry stared at her in slight confusion. He wasn’t sure what had caused his sore back “What do you mean?” he asked.

Madame Pomfrey clicked her tongue and gave Harry a sympathetic look. “You know they’re there, Harry.” she said. “Can’t you tell me what happened?”

Harry seriously didn’t know what she was talking about but he could venture a guess. Dillard had poked him in the back with his wand, he suddenly remembered. Could it have left bruises? He thought at the time that they would. “Bruises?” he asked, just in case he was wrong.

She smiled reassuringly at him. “Yes.” she said, and finally Harry was allowed to lie back against his pillows.

So, he had been correct. “I’d forgotten about it, actually.” He murmured to himself. At Pomfrey’s questioning gaze, he told her about Dillard and his wand. “He’d poke me with it as hard as he could, I think. I wasn’t sure if it would leave any bruises, but I thought it might do some damage.”

“Yes, well, it was damaging enough.” she muttered angrily. Harry was surprised at her vehemence.

She doted over Harry for a few more minutes, and then made him drink more potions. “Now, you need to stay in bed and rest, young man.” she ordered.

Harry wasn’t about to disobey her and nodded at her obediently. “Madame Pomfrey?” he asked as she was cleaning up his bedside table.

“Yes, dear?”

“Do you know where Professor Snape went?” he asked. He didn’t feel comfortable referring to Severus as his father in front of his co-workers. He wasn’t even sure if Severus would mind if he did. He’d have to ask.

Madame Pomfrey shook her head in exasperation. “That man, I swear. He was on the verge of collapse and needed rest and I sent him straight to bed.” she said sternly.

Harry was shocked. Had he really been that bad? He suddenly found himself unable to think about anything except his father’s health and began pelting Madame Pomfrey with his own questions. “Well, is he alright? Why was he so tired? Maybe you should go check on him.” he said emphatically. Harry remembered how Severus had looked when he’d first woken up. He had looked exhausted and run down.

She looked at him with a raised brow. “Don’t worry so much, young man. I was checking on him as you were waking up just a few moments ago. He was absolutely fine and was still sleeping, as a matter of fact.”

Harry watched the older woman carefully. She looked as if she was debating with herself over something. She finally came to a decision and sat down on the edge of his bed. She leaned close and whispered. “You didn’t hear this from me.” she began, and Harry’s eyes widened. What was this? “But, I thought you, of all people, should know.” She continued. “I’ve never seen him act the way he did while you were missing, Potter. He was beyond himself with worry. The second they realized you were gone from the grounds he started searching those woods, and with no regard to himself of the danger in them. He never stopped looking for you, not even when Albus Dumbledore tried to make him come inside and rest.” She sighed then and placed her hand over his. “For a while there, we all thought the worst, that you’d been taken by you-know-who and his minions. In that case, there would have been almost no hope of rescue. Potter, I never thought I’d see the day that Severus Snape would care about anyone. But I was wrong, that day has come.” she said.

A warm feeling had started in Harry’s chest at the woman’s words. He couldn’t deny that he had sometimes wondered if Severus really cared about him. He was ashamed now, of course, that he had believed ill of him. He almost felt like he would cry, but refused to do so in front of Pomfrey.

The older woman was about to say something more when the doors burst open. Harry grinned madly at his two friends, wondering what had taken them so long.

Patting Harry on the hand, Madame Pomfrey stood up and eyed the two Gryffindors scathingly. “Try not to tire my patient.” She demanded before briskly walking to her office and shutting the door behind her. The two briefly acknowledged her and after the door was closed, they ran.

“Harry!” exclaimed Hermione, running up to him and giving him a gentle hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” she whispered in his ear.

It was always an odd sensation when people acted like they cared. In the past, acts of kindness were hard to come by and were normally false. So when Hermione tried to smother him with her kindness and motherly ways, and Ron came in blazing with happiness, Harry wasn’t sure how to react. He couldn’t imagine they’d be this happy to see him. Then again, Harry was well known for his penchant to self-doubt.

They talked about classes and the rumors currently circulating Hogwarts, including ones revolving around Harry himself.

“Where do they come up with these ideas?” he asked when Ron told him Parvati Patil had heard he’d been dragged by a full-blown giant into the Forbidden Forest to feed its children and immediate family. Harry thought that was the most inane thing he’d ever heard.

Ron couldn’t answer his question. “I’m not sure. But, you’ll never guess who it was that actually figured it out before we did.” he exclaimed.

Harry certainly didn’t know who Ron was talking about. “Well, I don’t know.” He finally said when Ron wouldn’t follow up on his words. He heard Hermione sigh beside him. She had decided to lie down beside him on the bed, which wasn’t exactly comfortable, with her head lying right beside Harry’s. Every time she talked her breath tickled against his cheek.

“Malfoy!” he bellowed. “Can you believe it? I’ll bet he knew who took you all along, Harry. He was probably behind it somehow. It was probably some Death Eater plot.” he continued.

Harry thought he was being a bit irrational but wouldn’t dare say that to Ron. He was going to throw a tantrum when he discovered that he and Malfoy had become…acquaintances, if not friends. It really came as no big surprise to Harry that Malfoy had figured it out, either. To the Slytherin, Dillard had been the only probable option. He had known the man had it out for Harry and it was only now he realized what he had against the both of them, their fathers. As thoughts of last night’s horrible events threatened to consume him, he desperately pushed them away. Wishing only to distract himself from that night, he opened his mouth and spoke.

“Malfoy wasn’t behind my kidnapping, Ron. And he wouldn’t help any Death Eaters, that’s for sure.” he blurted. He failed to notice his friends’ reactions, or just wasn’t paying attention to them. He continued on heedlessly. “I mean, he turned against his father and the monster he serves.” he said in a near whisper. Harry finally looked up and saw the astonished faces looking back at him. “Oh.”

Ron looked absolutely incredulous. It was obvious he didn’t believe a word Harry had said, and in fact was wondering about his raven-haired friend’s sanity. “Are you mad?” he asked. “Malfoy would never turn against his father. They’re both like two peas in a pod. They’re both evil, egotistical bastards who probably get off on torturing descent people!” Ron was nearly yelling at this point and Harry was trying hard to get him to calm down.

“No, Ron, that’s not it at all. I’ve noticed a difference in him over the past few months. Haven’t you?” he asked, looking to Hermione for her wisdom. She had always been incredibly observant, and if anyone had noticed Malfoy’s behavior, she would. However, she looked doubtful herself and Harry was beginning to wonder if they’d ever believe him.

Hermione had a look of deep concern etched all over her face. Harry could see her train of thought quite clearly. His ‘trauma’ had addled his thought processes and he obviously wasn’t thinking straight. And she said as much a second later.

“Harry, I don’t think you know what you’re saying. Honestly, Malfoy, go against his father?” she asked, trying to sound level-headed. She didn’t, at least not to Harry, who was growing annoyed that they wouldn’t take his word for it. Of course, he couldn’t really blame them, either. Malfoy had always been a right down git to them.

“I would…” he trailed off. He about told them about Malfoy staying with Severus and him over the Christmas Holidays. But, he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about that, even if he really wanted to tell Ron and Hermione, if only to get them to understand.

“You would what?” asked Ron. He still looked disbelieving, and Harry didn’t think he’d ever be able to convince him, or Hermione for that matter.

“Never mind. Listen, can’t you just trust me on this one little thing? You know I wouldn’t lie to you about this, and I am thinking clearly, Hermione. I’m not so traumatized that I don’t know an honest and trustworthy person when I see them.” He stated confidently.

Ron was now sporting a flabbergasted look. “Excuse me? Did you just say honest and trustworthy? Now I know you’re mental. How can you associate those words with a Malfoy?” he asked.

Harry grimaced, more from annoyance than anything, though. “You don’t know him!” he said through slightly gritted teeth. “Okay, I realize you don’t know as much as I do, but please trust me on this. I can’t tell you everything,” he stated when Hermione gave him that inquiring look. “but, I swear to you, he’s on the up and up.” he said, nearly pleading with his friends at this point. He knew Malfoy would be around him every now and then and didn’t want a heated argument to arise every time he was.

“I’ll take it as I see it, Harry. This is going to be just like it was when you told us about Snape.” said Ron. “When I see for myself that he’s trustworthy and honest, as you put it, I guess I’ll try and be nice to him. Until that point…well, its every man for himself.” he said. Harry knew what Ron was indicating. He wouldn’t accept Malfoy and if Malfoy started something Ron would be more than happy to duel with him. Or whatever else it took.

Sighing, Harry could only nod. It wasn’t like he could change his friend’s minds. Hermione looked in league with Ron and he didn’t even try to argue with her. Getting that girl to change her mind was almost impossible.

Harry was disappointed and it showed. He assumed they would leave him, seeing as how Ron was pretty much mad at him, and Hermione seemed a little disappointed in Harry, herself. He wouldn’t look either of them in the eye and waited patiently to see what they would do. So, it came as a bit of a shock when Hermione remained by his side and Ron sat down on the bed by his feet. He watched them warily. Now came the hard part.

“So, how are you doing?” asked Hermione, brushing a strand of hair out of Harry’s eyes. Here was that mothering part again.

Harry shrugged his shoulders and pushed himself into a more upright position, causing Hermione to fall more fully onto the bed. She had been using his shoulder as support. Once more comfortable, he scooted over to give her more room so she wouldn’t have to practically lie on him. He found himself wishing they were still arguing about Malfoy because anything was better than trying to explain his feelings about what had happened, or talking about it at all, really.

“I’m fine.” he replied. Hermione gave him a look that said he’d have to do better than that. He just didn’t know if he could.

“I hardly believe that. I can’t even imagine how horrifying it must have been for you. Did you realize right away it was Professor Dillard?” she asked.

“Ex-Professor, Hermione. He’s no Professor of ours.” interrupted Ron.

“Yes, Ronald, I realize that, but I’m trying to get Harry to confide in us, so if you’d please be quiet, I’d appreciate it.” she said reproachfully. Ron had the good sense to at least look chastised, even though Harry could tell he wanted to say something back to all that. Harry prayed he would, but he knew better. Nothing in this world would get him out of this conversation.

“What if I don’t want to have this conversation?” he asked petulantly.

Hermione scowled at him. “You may not want to have it, Harry, but you really should talk about it. It will help you deal with it.” She said.

“There’s nothing to deal with!” he said a wee bit erratically, causing Hermione to shy away from him.

“Whoa, mate.” Said Ron, placing a hand against his leg. “You don’t need to flip out on Hermione. She’s just trying to help in that nagging way of hers.” He said and soon found himself on the receiving end of Hermione’s glare.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked heatedly. “I’m not nagging him, I’m trying to be helpful!”

Harry threw his hands into the air to shut them up. “Hold up!” he yelled. “Can we just not argue?” he asked.

Hermione immediately backed down but Ron still looked put out. “Fine.” he grumbled.

Harry smiled at the two of them. He suddenly realized he wouldn’t mind so much having to talk to them about his kidnapping. He just didn’t want a monumental explosion when he told them about the smothering. That seemed to have a universal effect on everyone he told about it. Resigned to his fate, he spoke.

“Alright, I guess I’m just going to tell you.” He said, shocking the both his friends.

“You are?” asked Hermione, stunned. “I didn’t think it would be so easy.” she mumbled to herself. Harry had to agree with her, he hadn’t intended on giving in so easily, but what else was he going to do?

“Yeah, I guess so. So, just let me say it, okay?” he asked. The two nodded fervently in his direction and watched his face avidly. Harry felt a little uncomfortable by the attention but shrugged it off. Not wanting to drag the story out, he gave them the condensed version. They remained quiet throughout the tale, except for that one part.

“What?” asked Hermione. She was on the verge of tears. Ron wasn’t crying or anything, but he looked very upset, almost like he didn’t know how to feel about it. His emotions were easily seen through his eyes, and the most prominent were sadness and anger. “Why?” she asked. “Why would he do something like that? What the hell did you ever do to him?”

“Me? Nothing. It wasn’t even me he was so angry at. It was Professor Snape.” he whispered, growing upset at the idea of his father being a murderer. And killing a child, how could he have done that? Before, he hadn’t let himself think about it. Now, in the presence of his friends, he felt like he could.

“What are you talking about?” asked Hermione. “What’s Professor Snape got to do with any of this?”

It was all well and good to think about it, but he didn’t know if it was acceptable to talk about it. He knew he couldn’t, not until he found out exactly what had happened. He didn’t know all the facts, really, and didn’t want his friend’s trust in Severus to be broken. Not like this, it would be too difficult to regain their trust in him.

“I’m not sure. I need to talk to Snape first.” he told them. By the looks in their eyes, he could tell they knew he knew more than he was letting on. “Please, don’t press me on this, not until I know more.” He practically begged them.

They caved, thankfully, upon seeing his face. Hermione gave him a sideways hug and he felt Ron squeeze his leg more firmly.

“We were so worried.” she whispered, hugging him to her side in an almost protective gesture. “We didn’t think we were ever going to see you again.”

Harry wasn’t surprised, considering they thought he was in Voldemort’s clutches. But, at the tears in both of their eyes, he grew completely shocked. Had everyone’s thoughts been so desperate?

“Don’t cry!” he begged once more, shaking Hermione since she was in easy reach. “You don’t have to cry, everything’s fine.” he consoled.

“But, Harry, it wasn’t fine. Nothing was fine. How many times is something like this going to happen? Why does it always happen to you!” yelled Ron. “You don’t deserve it and I refuse to let it happen again. From now on I’m going to watch after you like a hawk. Hermione and I will become your bodyguards if we have to, because I’m not going through this again. I thought you were going to die and I’d never see you again. And then when I saw you outside and you looked so bloody awful…you shouldn’t have had to go through that, not again, not by that git.” he exclaimed and then he shuddered. Suddenly it was as if all the energy had drained right out of him. “You’re my best friend, Harry. You’re like a brother to me. I just wanted you to know that.” he said, and Harry really was shocked to see a tear actually fall down his cheek.

Harry was surprised to also feel a tear or two rolling down his own cheek. He quickly swiped it away. Hermione, on the other hand, was just balling her eyes out. “Hermione.” he said, nudging her with his shoulder. “You alright there?”

She nodded, gasping. “That was so…sweet.” she balled.

Harry couldn’t help but laugh. He laughed harder when Hermione slapped him on the arm.

“Shut it.” she said, but was smiling.

Ron still seemed more serious than was normal, but had finally cracked a grin at Harry and Hermione’s antics.

Harry sat there quietly for a moment. He was still a bit overwhelmed by their reactions. “Thanks, Ron.” he finally said. He felt like he should say something more profound, but when Ron smiled brightly at him, he knew he didn’t have to.

“Alright you two, Mr. Potter needs his rest.” said Pomfrey. All three of them had jumped at her voice.

Hermione and Ron looked reluctant to leave, but Madame Pomfrey was having nothing of it. “Out, both of you.” She said, hands on her hips. “You can visit later.”

Hermione sighed and leaned closer. “We love you.” She whispered, and Harry once again felt like he could cry. He didn’t know why he was feeling so emotional today, but he bloody wished it would stop.

“I love you guys too.” he whispered back.

Ron clasped his shoulder firmly. “Get some rest. We’ll try and come back as soon as possible.” he said. Harry could see the anxiety in his friends’ eyes. Neither of them wanted to leave him. They were over-reacting, but it was kind of nice, if not a little overbearing.

“Don’t worry, I will. I’ll see you later.” He told them both and waved as the doors closed behind them.

“Drink this.” stated Pomfrey, handing Harry a potion. He noticed it was a Dreamless Sleep and gulped it down. He was tired and would prefer not to have any nasty dreams.

“Thanks.” he rasped, half asleep already. As he was drifting into unconsciousness, he thought he heard a door close, but all thoughts vanished as sleep took him.

…………………………………

When next Harry awoke it was late afternoon and the last of the suns rays were shining directly into his eyes. He tossed and turned, trying to reclaim blessed sleep, but to no avail. He flung his covers to the side when he grew too warm and wondered when Severus would finally come and visit him. He really wanted to talk to him now, even though he was growing extremely anxious about the conversation that would follow.

A throat being cleared startled him. He turned to his side and saw that Professor Dumbledore was sitting in the chair beside his bed. His face grew red as he realized the man had been sitting there the entire time. “Hello, Headmaster.” he said meekly.

“Good afternoon, Harry. I trust you slept well?” he asked.

Harry grinned. “Yeah, I slept fine.” he said, eyeing the man who was wearing bright purple robes a little strangely. “So, what are you doing up here?” he asked. He knew how busy Dumbledore had been lately and was really surprised the man had made it up for a visit.

“Actually, I wanted to speak to you about this wandless magic you spoke of.” he said, getting right to the point for once.

“Oh, okay.” replied Harry. He wanted to know more about it too.

“Let’s start simple, shall we?” he asked. Harry agreed. “Wandless magic, powerful wandless magic as you have performed, is actually quite rare.” He said, startling Harry.

“What? But, I’ve seen you use wandless magic.” he protested.

Dumbledore raised an old and weathered hand to stall him. “Yes, you have, but Harry, even I have never been able to produce the type of reaction you claimed to procure that night.” he explained.

Harry’s eyes grew wide and remained that way. “Are you serious?” he asked.

“Quite serious, my boy. If what you say is true, and I fully believe it to be, then you are quite the powerful wizard, Harry. Perhaps, with training, you’ll be even more powerful than myself and Voldemort.” he told Harry.

All Harry could do, it seemed, was stare at the old man. He couldn’t wrap his mind around what the Headmaster was saying. He would be more powerful than both Dumbledore and Voldemort? He hadn’t even thought it possible until just this minute, and he was still having a problem with believing it.

“Have you ever performed wandless magic before to this extreme?” he asked Harry, breaking the silence.

The first thought that occurred to Harry was the night the twins, Ron, and Neville had tried to talk to him about his bruises. He told Dumbledore as much and waited patiently as the old Headmaster sat thinking.

“You say a wind picks up right before you’re about to perform your magic wandlessly?” he asked, twirling his long beard around his fingers.

Harry nodded. “Yes.”

“Hmm…interesting.” He said, and then switched to another point in the topic. “I suggest training.” He said suddenly.

Harry was more than willing to go along with the training. He wanted to learn how to control this power he now possessed. “When do we start?” he asked, and then thought of another question. “Who will train me?”

“I do believe it would be prudent for me to teach your myself.” he said wisely. “We can start as soon as you are well.” he continued. “How does that sound?”

“It sounds great.” said Harry excitedly.

“Good, then. I really must get back to work then, Harry.”

Harry nodded, knowing the man was always busy. He watched the man leave the Infirmary. The oak doors opened and as they were about to drift shut, a hand reached out and grabbed them to forestall their closure. He waited to see who would enter, but whoever it was must have stopped to talk to the Headmaster, although the door still remained slightly ajar. Soon, Dumbledore must have left, for the door opened the rest of the way and in slipped the man he’d wanted to see all day.

………………………………….

Harry suddenly felt nervous in the presence of his father. He’d been wanting to talk to him all day long, and now that the moment had arrived, he couldn’t seem to open his mouth.

When Severus faltered with his stride into the Infirmary and gave him a concerned look, Harry realized the man could somehow sense his distress. The rest of the way to his bed was quickly covered and then Severus was at his side.

“Is something the matter?” he asked immediately.

Harry tried to speak, but it seemed his throat had conveniently dried up. “Water?” he rasped out instead. Severus was quick to procure a pitcher of water and a drinking glass. He poured the liquid into the glass and handed it to Harry.

“Is that sufficient?” asked Severus, still holding the pitcher.

“Yes, that’s fine.” He paused. He had to say it now or he never would. He stayed quiet even though he could feel Severus’ questioning eyes boring into his forehead. “I need to ask you about something.” he finally managed to say.

Snape looked at him long and hard before sitting down in the chair beside his bed and placing the pitcher on the bedside table. “Very well. What is it you need to ask?”

Harry couldn’t seem to make eye contact with his father so studied his hands instead. “It’s about something Dillard told me.” he finally managed to say. He looked up just in time to see a dark look cross Severus’ face.

“And what was that?” he asked, his voice hard.

Before Harry told him, he wanted to know something first. “Did you know who he was?” he asked.

Severus looked at him oddly. “In what sense?” he asked. Harry realized he probably wasn’t making much sense.

“In the sense that he used to be a Death Eater.” he blurted before he could change his mind. He watched Snape’s expression and knew instantly that the man hadn’t had a clue.

“What?” he rasped, unable to say anything more.

Harry took a deep breath before he said any more. Finally, he knew he couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Dillard was a Death Eater.” He knew he was repeating himself, but felt as if he really needed to get that point across. “He joined around the same time you did, only you were given a higher rank than him.” He watched his father closely for any signs of recognition. But, he hadn’t nearly begun, and continued. “After a while, I guess he was being tortured on a daily basis due to his failures in whatever scheme he was supposed to have done that day. He wanted to get out and he and his wife had made a plan to fake his death and for the two of them and their…son, to escape. Only, Voldemort found out about it.”

“And sent a few dedicated Death Eaters to get rid of the traitor.” Snape finished for him.

Harry cringed at the look on his father’s face. He remembered and he looked completely appalled. Harry could feel the tears pooling in his eyes and wiped at them furiously. “He said you smothered his son to death.” he said all at once.

Severus looked up quickly, his voice choked. “No, Harry, that is not true.” He said so adamantly that Harry instantly believed him. But, he was confused.

“Then, he lied?”

Severus shook his head. “No, he didn’t lie. What he saw that night was construed to be believable, in my case, at least. I had no control over the woman’s death; she was in Lucius Malfoy’s hands. The boy, however, was to die by my hand. Harry, I never intended to let the child die that night. He lived.” He told Harry, keeping eye contact.

Harry couldn’t believe his ears. But knew his father’s words to be true. “But how?” he asked. How had Dillard’s son lived if the man saw him killed? And where was he now?

“I doused him with a drought which temporarily stopped all of the body’s functions, but it only lasted for a matter of minutes. I had to time it just right in order for Lucius Malfoy and I to leave before the results wore off. Lucius couldn’t know. However, I’m curious as to why Dillard believes his son to be dead, considering he’s not.” he said.

Harry didn’t know the answer to that, but could only be eternally thankful that his father hadn’t killed that boy. He knew his father had done heinous things in his service to Voldemort, but he always hoped the man had somehow gotten out of the more foul things. And now, he was beginning to realize that perhaps he had gotten out of them.

“If Dillard’s behavior towards me was any indication to how he used to treat his son, he probably ran away as soon as he woke up to discover his mother dead and his father…seemingly dead.” he thought out loud.

“I agree. That is the most likely scenario, I suppose.”

Harry looked at his father and suddenly felt awful for believing Dillard. How could he think so badly of his father? “I’m sorry.” he suddenly blurted out. “I shouldn’t have believed him, but I did. I should have realized you wouldn’t have killed that kid, but I didn’t think. I mean, you were a Death Eater, you probably had to do some things you weren’t exactly proud of.” He knew he was rambling, but couldn’t seem to stop, that was until Severus did it for him.

“Harry, I didn’t kill that particular child, but I also wasn’t constantly able to prevent all the deaths that were ordered to happen while I was a Death Eater, much as it pains me to admit to you.” he said, covering his face with his hands. “I apologize for what that man put you through. I can only assume it was in retaliation against what he perceived I had done against him…murdering his son.”

“Yes. He said he hadn’t been able to get his revenge against you until now. You hadn’t ever had a son. I’m not sure, though, why he didn’t go after Draco Malfoy before now. He said he had planned on getting Malfoy too, but he hadn’t had the chance before I…you know.” He gestured with his hands, indicating his wandless magic.

“Yes, I understand. And, as for his revenge against our children, I sorely wish he would have gone after the sources of his grief instead of taking it out on you.” he said and placed a hand on Harry’s arm. “I truly regret all that you’ve been through the past few days, Harry, and that I wasn’t there to stop it.”

Suddenly, Harry was pulled into Severus’ arms and pressed tight against his chest. Shocked at first, he couldn’t respond, but finally what was happening registered, and he wrapped his arms around his father’s neck and held on for dear life. And then he heard the words he never thought he’d hear from a parent ever again. “I love you, Harry.” It was just barely whispered into his ear, but he heard them and thought his heart would burst. This time the tears he’d been fighting all day fell down his cheeks, and he let them.

“I love you, too.” Harry whispered.

………………………………………

The next day, Harry was allowed to return to classes. He had been looking forward to his freedom and the return to his privacy for what seemed like forever. However, there was a problem with this newfound freedom and privacy…he wasn’t getting any. Wherever he went, he was bombarded by questions from his classmates. ‘Are you alright?’ ‘What happened?’ ‘We heard your were kidnapped by a Giant, Harry. What was it like?’ After about the millionth question, Harry was ready to go back to the Hospital Wing and hide. He couldn’t escape them, not even in class.

When Harry entered Potions class, he was filled with relief. No one, not even the bravest soul in Hogwarts, would dare go against Professor Snape. He felt safe now. Taking his usual seat beside Ron and Hermione, he pulled out his homework, parchment, and a quill.

“Hey, Harry. How have your classes been?” asked Hermione. Ron rolled his eyes. He’d been with him through every class, whereas Hermione had not.

“It’s been bloody annoying, it has.” spouted Ron. “No one will leave him alone!”

“Mr. Weasley, kindly keep your thoughts to yourself while in my class. Five points from Gryffindor.” he said, leveling a long gaze at the redhead. Harry bowed his head as he felt his friend’s glare.

Ron whispered, “Somehow, I thought he’d begin to get nicer. Now I realize I was stupid for ever thinking that.”

Harry grinned at his friend and set to writing down the instructions from the board. It was as he was writing down one of the ingredients when his vision went blurry and out of focus. He thought he heard someone call his name, but soon he couldn’t even see them…

He was running, doors swinging open to allow him through. After the third door he found himself in the cathedral-sized room full of shelves and glass spheres. He reached number ninety-seven and turned left, hurrying along the aisle between two rows. But there was a shape on the floor at the very end, a black shape moving upon the floor like a wounded animal…. Harry’s stomach contracted with fear. A voice issued from his own mouth, a high, cold voice empty of any human kindness, “Take it for me…Life it down, now…I cannot touch it…but you can…” The black shape upon the floor shifted a little. Harry saw a long fingered white hand clutching a wand rise on the end of his own arm…heard the high, cold voice say, “Crucio!” The man on the floor let out a scream of pain, attempted to stand but fell back, writhing. He raised his wand, the curse lifted, and the figure groaned and became motionless. “Lord Voldemort is waiting…” Very slowly, his arms trembling, the man on the ground raised his shoulders a few inches and lifted his head. His face was bloodstained and gaunt, twisted in pain yet rigid with defiance….

“You’ll have to kill me,” whispered Sirius.

“Undoubtedly I shall in the end,” said the cold voice. “But you will fetch it for me first, Black…You think you have felt pain thus far? Think again…We have hours ahead of us and nobody to hear you scream…

But somebody screamed as Voldemort lowered his wand again; somebody yelled and fell sideways off their seat and onto the cold stone floor. (1)

Harry woke from his vision, lying on the floor, clutching his scar, as he continued to scream. He felt arms lift him up and help him lean against a desk.

“Harry. Harry, are you alright?” asked a female voice. Harry wasn’t certain, but he thought it might be Hermione.

“Out of my way, move!” yelled a voice. Harry finally realized where he was and what was going on. He tried to stand up, but hands pushed him back to the ground.

“That’s not a good idea, Harry.” definitely Hermione, then.

“But, I need to go. I need to help him.” he said frantically. “Let me up!” He was about to use drastic measures when his father suddenly appeared right in front of him. “Dad!” he yelled, grabbing hold of his robes and practically pulling the man closer. “He’s going to kill him! He’s torturing him, we have to go, right now!” he whispered vehemently.

Severus grabbed Harry and rushed him off into his office, away from the prying ears of his classmates. “What? Who is being tortured, Harry?” he asked.

“Sirius!” yelled Harry. “We have to go. We have to save him!”

Severus sighed. “Harry, your godfather is safe. He and Shacklebolt are still attempting to tie up some loose ends about your kidnapping. I assure you, he’s perfectly fine.” He tried to reassure the boy, but Harry couldn’t believe it.

“No, I saw him. He’s with Voldemort. He’s torturing him. He’ll kill him if we don’t save him!” he yelled.

He was shocked out of his yelling fit when his father took Harry’s face in his hands and stared him deeply in the eyes. “Calm yourself.” He said sternly. “We’ll figure this out, but not until you’re able to function in a calm manner.”

Harry understood this and tried to get a hold of himself. He took deep breaths and continued to keep eye contact with the only rational person in the room. “Okay, I think I’m alright,” said Harry.

Severus agreed with him. “I’m going to contact Albus and see if we can locate Black. Do not panic, we will resolve this.” he said, and proceeded to the fireplace. Harry distantly watched as his father stuck his head in the fire to talk with the Headmaster, but all he couldn’t think about was Sirius. What if he never saw Sirius again? The thought made him feel queasy and he forced himself to sit down and calm down. They would find him, they had to. The just had to.