Out on the veranda, the wind whipped Harry’s raven hair into his eyes. He tried to push it behind his ears, but the wind continued to vie against him, causing his hair to fly into his face every time he pushed it away. Eventually he just gave up and let it whip his hair as it willed, staring out at the peaceful lake and wishing he was anywhere but where he was at the moment. He knew his friends would be arriving at any time and the thought of facing them after the events that took place yesterday…well, he wasn’t sure he could face them at all.

It was later in the morning, nearing ten o’clock, he presumed. His father had warned him when he’d woken up that they would be having visitors. He offered him the chance to refuse them, but he honestly didn’t think his mere refusal would keep the Weasley’s at bay for long. They would come one way or another, so he might as well just allow them to arrive. And besides, he didn’t want to hurt their feelings by turning them away; they were only trying to be there for him. But above all else, Harry feared if he continued to refuse them they wouldn’t come back. And he wanted them around for as long as he could, for when they found out what he let his Uncle do to him, they’d be too disgusted to stay, wouldn’t they?

It was these kinds of thoughts that were running rampant through his head as he stood outside, waiting for the Weasley’s too arrive, which led to him not even realizing they were there until he heard their voices echoing around the Manor.

They were here. To see him. All of a sudden he didn’t want to see them, he didn’t think he could stand the looks on their faces when they saw him. His face alone would have the effect of having at least Mrs. Weasley, Ginny and Hermione in tears. He just wasn’t so sure he could take it right then when all he wanted to do in the world was be by himself. And the thought of any of them trying to hug him sent shivers down his spine. Harry wasn’t so stupid as to realize it would be the first thing they’d want to do…hug him.

The lake was looking more and more appealing, with the trees all surrounding it. It almost reminded him of his refuge back at Hogwarts, only without the large rock for him to sit on. But, there was an old tree stump he could use, that was actually well hidden within a rather large swell of trees on the other side of the lake, facing away from the Manor. He could stay there and hopefully remain unseen.

Stepping off the back veranda, he broke into a run, sprinting across the lawn, hoping he’d make it before anyone decided to look out a window. The tree stump was covered in bright green moss, but it served to make it more comfortable, so Harry didn’t mind at all sitting on it. His clothes would get a little dirty, but he could always spell them clean later. Sitting down proved a little difficult as his sore body was protesting his movement, especially after having ran across the yard, but he managed it with a few groans a moment later. It would have been nice if he had a book to read, but unfortunately he hadn’t known he would be coming out here on a whim and didn’t happen to have one on him, and it wasn’t as if he could just walk back inside and get one. So, he sat comfortably on the tree stump, looking out over the rippling waters.

A sudden noise beside him nearly caused him to jump clear off his make-shift seat, but a small squeaky voice let him know who it was before he even got a look.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” he asked, looking worriedly towards the house, but saw that no one else was with her and no one was looking out the windows, either.

“Your father is looking for you, Master Harry. Why are you outside all by yourself?” asked Cella, wringing her hands anxiously. “They’re worried about you, Master Harry, perhaps it would be best if you went inside?”

Harry shook his head. “I don’t want to go inside, Cella. Tell them I’ve gone to bed or something and that I don’t want to be disturbed,” he asked her, hoping she would obey him.

“But you’re not in bed?” she stated carefully, obviously wondering if she should do this for him or not. Master Severus would not be pleased.

“Yes, I know that. But, I don’t want to see them right now. Please, Cella? I just want to be left alone, and they won’t let me, I know they won’t. Just do me this one favor, please?” he asked, his tone one of desperation.

The small elf knew the boy was still hurting inside from what happened and couldn’t bring herself to let him down. “Very well, Master Harry. I will tell them you are sleeping and wish not to be disturbed. But, I can not lie to your father if he demands an answer,” she warned him before disappearing with a loud crack. Harry sighed and sat back on the moss-covered stump. He wondered how long Cella could hold out against the swarm of concerned friends and family waiting inside for him before she cracked. It wouldn’t be long, he realized, and settled back to enjoy his moment of silence before it was ruined. He was too tired to go and try to find another place to hide and quite frankly, he felt like he was being too immature with playing this hide and seek game.

He hoped his father wouldn’t be mad at him for disappearing like he did. This thought alone nearly had him running back for the house were it not for the hand on his shoulder that had him freezing in place, his entire body rigid.

…………………………….

“Where is he? I thought you said we could see him today!” stated Ron angrily. They had been here for about twenty minutes now and still there was no sign of Harry. It was a huge house, but come on, how many places could he possibly hide? Cella had left in search for him from the minute Snape realized he wasn’t in his room and nowhere he normally frequented in the house.

“You will once we find him,” said Draco, looking every bit as irritated at Ron as Hermione did. She obviously didn’t approve of his attitude towards a teacher and Harry’s father.

“Maybe he wasn’t ready,” she informed them all wisely, but no one was inclined to hear her words, as no one wanted to believe Harry wouldn’t want to see them.

“He’s probably just in the bathroom or something,” interrupted George, inputting his own wisdom.

“The bathroom?” asked Hermione; clearly thinking this was a stupid suggestion. “I think we would have found him by now if he were only in the bathroom. He probably just needed a moment to himself. He’ll come to us when he’s ready.”

Ron shook his head. “He doesn’t need to be ready to see us. I mean, we’re his friends, we understand him. Why wouldn’t he want to see us?”

Draco shook his head. Imbeciles. “You saw what his Uncle did to him, Weasley. If I was him and I knew you’d all seen that, I doubt I’d want to see you either. He’s probably ashamed,” he said, face lowered towards the floor.

Ron grimaced. “What do you know about it, Malfoy? Harry was abused, but he still wouldn’t be ashamed to see us!” he exclaimed, his worry making him a bit more irritated than he should be at the blonde.

Malfoy’s face darkened but no response was forthcoming, as Cella had suddenly reappeared in the room.

“Did you find him?” asked Severus, frustrated the boy had disappeared, yet worried as well.

“Yes,” she said slowly, refusing to make eye contact with the man she was supposed to be loyal to above all others. “He’s sleeping and wishes not to be disturbed.”

Severus stared at her.

“He’s sleeping?” asked Fred, sounding unconvinced. “Where? He’s not in his bedroom.”

Cella seemed slightly taken aback. Obviously, she and Harry should have come up with a better plan. “He’s in bed,” she said, eyes planted firmly on the floor.

Fred had been suspicious from the get-go, but now Severus was beginning to eye her with a calculating look in his eyes. “May I speak to you in private?” he asked her, and she squeaked in surprise.

“Yes, sir, Master Severus sir,” she said quickly and rushed into the study behind him, looking frightened.

Ron, Hermione, George and his parents were already going upstairs, wanting to investigate the elf’s claim, but Fred remained downstairs. He had a feeling he knew where his friend was hiding, but didn’t want him to feel overwhelmed if they all converged on him at once. He noticed Draco had remained in the foyer as well.

“Do you know where he is?” he asked the blonde Slytherin, purely curious.

Draco shrugged. “I have a hunch, but if you think you know where he is and can convince him to come inside willingly, I’ll keep the others occupied while you get him,” he said with certainty in his voice. “I know you won’t force him to come inside…and besides, he trusts you,” he remarked at Fred’s incredulous stare.

“Oh,” said Fred, a little stunned at Draco gesture. “Thanks.”

“Best hurry, they’ll be back soon,” he said, head notched in the direction of the stairs.

Fred nodded. “True, good point,” he said, already running out the doors to the veranda. Draco waited until he could no longer see the redheaded Weasley in the mass of trees surrounding the lake before turning towards the stairs. Now to keep the rest of them busy, he thought.

…………………………………

Fred quietly looked for his friend, knowing he was around here someplace, but not knowing exactly where. Thankfully, all the loud wind and the creaking the trees made as they swayed with it made it possible for Harry not to hear him as he searched. It didn’t take long to find him though, and he soon saw a form sitting not ten feet in front of him, looking out over the lake.

Approaching from behind, Fred didn’t even think before placing his hand down on his friend’s shoulder, having assumed he would have heard him. But, he forgot about how loud the howling wind had been and didn’t realize until it was too late that Harry hadn’t heard him approach. The poor kid went completely rigid beneath his hand. Looking down, he noticed Harry’s hands had clenched into fists, nearly ripping all the green moss clean off the stump the teen was using as a seat. As Fred stood still in shock, he realized the boy was shaking in fear his body was so intensely rigid.

“Harry!” he yelled, pulling his friend around and kneeling down in front of him as quickly as possible. “You’re fine. It’s just me!” he insisted quietly, never letting his eyes stray from the frightened ones before him. “Just calm down, it was only me.”

Harry nodded, his breathing becoming less labored. He took deep breaths, shaking his head in time with Fred’s reassuring words. “O-okay,” he stuttered, still trying to calm his racing heart and mind. Fred’s firm hand on his shoulder had suddenly brought back a memory he hadn’t been prepared for. His Uncle doing the same thing, only he had wanted something more when he’d viciously turned him around. Harry took in another shuddering breath and suddenly collapsed forwards into Fred’s arms, needing the support of someone he knew wouldn’t hurt him, not like that.

But, as soon as Fred had gathered him close, he pulled away, unable to bear the touch…and worried he’d get Fred dirty too, just like him. He pulled a shaking hand through his hair and leaned forward, nearly putting his head to his knees.

“Harry, come on. Talk to me, what’s wrong?” he asked, trying to put his hand on the teen’s shoulder, but Harry flinched away from him.

“Just wait!” cried Harry, miserably. “Please, just wait.”

Fred felt like his heart was constricting in his chest. What the hell was going on? he wondered, worried sick now for his friend. He hesitantly reached out a hand to comfort him but instantly brought it back when he realized Harry couldn’t be touched right now. He just knew. “Harry, come on, please, tell me what’s wrong?” he pleaded; he just didn’t know what to do for him to help him. “Please, Harry. You’re really worrying me. What’s’ wrong?” he asked, trying so hard not to touch him but feeling the urge so deep in his soul that he couldn’t help it. He had to do something and Harry wasn’t responding to him.

A gentle touch to Harry’s shoulder had the boy gasping and lifting his head in alarm. At seeing Fred’s distraught face, Harry tried to reign in his emotions, but it was so hard. Fred tried to touch him again and Harry actually started to cry.

“I’m sorry,” he cried. “I’m so sorry.” Harry shook his head and waved away his friend’s open arms. But Fred wasn’t listening to him any longer and pulled Harry into his arms, fighting gently against the struggling boy and just held him.

It took a bit, but Harry finally was able to relax into Fred’s embrace, making it much easier for the redhead to hold him. He could only sit there and gently rock with the swaying of the wind as he reflected on what had just happened. The more he thought about it the more horrified he became. He had a sinking suspicion he knew what was wrong with Harry, and it scared him to death. Harry lay limply against him, as if any and all energy he’d had had been drained from his body, and Fred hugged him tighter against him, feeling a sudden need to protect him that was so great he felt his breath catch. What did that bastard do to you?

He hoped Harry had fallen asleep since it would make it a lot easier to get him back into the house without a fuss. Harry wouldn’t want to see anyone, he didn’t want to see anyone if his actions just now were any indication. He’d been hiding from them only to follow with what Fred could only assume had been a panic attack. He’d never seen Harry react in such a way…he was deeply concerned for his friend and what lay ahead.

……………………………….

“Cella, I’ll ask you one more time. Tell me where my son is. He’s been gone long enough,” he said sternly, his arms crossed and his brow raised in slight irritation.

The house elf began her usual wringing of her hands before looking up at her master in resignation. “I shall tell master where his son is, but only under duress,” she said, her voice shaking. It was clear she was trying hard to keep Harry’s secret, but under Severus’ continued interrogation as it were, she had begun to break down. Any other time Severus would have found it an admirable trait in his staff, especially when concerning his son’s secrets, but not today. He was worried at the boy’s continued absence and what it could mean.

“Tell me,” he ordered, his voice softer than before but no less stern. He needed Cella to know that she must tell.

“Master Harry is at the lake, sir,” she muttered, ears flat against her head in her sorrow at having betrayed her master’s son.

Severus sighed in relief. He found it odd that the boy would pick the lake as a place to go to console himself considering his fear of water, but whatever worked for his son was just fine with Snape.

“Thank you, Cella,” he said quickly before leaving out the door. He managed to avoid the others in the house by taking secret passages from his study and into the back hallway that led to the outside veranda.

He made it to the lake in remarkable time, ignoring the beauties of the day that surrounded him, something he usually would take at least a moment to stop and admire, in favor of just getting to his son. What could possibly have happened to keep him outside all morning? Although, he feared he already knew. And the sight before him verified his beliefs.

“Mr. Weasley?” he asked gently. He neither wanted to frighten the young man holding Harry, nor his son who seemed to be asleep in his arms. What happened out here? he wondered.

Fred turned his head slowly and caught a glimpse of black out of the corner of his eye. He couldn’t make his head go any further or he’d risk the chance of waking Harry. “Professor Snape?” he asked softly.

As Severus grew closer he noticed the tear tracks still lingering on his son’s cheeks. He stepped closer and kneeled down beside the two resting on the rock. “Is he all right?” he asked, running a hand through the teen’s tousled locks.

Fred didn’t know what to say. Had Snape suspected the same as he had? Was he blowing the entire thing out of proportion? Should he even say anything to him? What if he was wrong and the Professor went into a mad rage, killing Harry’s Uncle? Not that that was necessarily a bad thing, but Harry needed his father with him, and killing the boy’s Uncle might not guarantee a stable relationship between the two. He knew his mind was rambling and most of it was nonsense, but he was truly confused and unsure of what to do with this information.

But, he couldn’t just not tell the man, could he? Because if Harry had been abused in that way, he’d need someone to help him…Severus would have to know. He looked towards Harry’s father and watched as he brushed a stray strand of hair out of his friend’s eyes. It was obvious to him that Snape wanted to hold his son but didn’t want to wake him. He knew the Professor loved Harry; probably more than he’d ever loved anyone in his entire life. He’d be devastated if what he suspected about Harry and his Uncle was true, but he’d do whatever it took to get Harry through it. He would tell him.

Fred stared at the man for a few more minutes, basically trying to get his courage up. He wasn’t entirely sure how he would react to such news. “I don’t think he’s all right,” he started briefly.

Severus stopped touching Harry’s hair and looked up at the redhead, looking contemplative, then concerned yet resigned. “What do you mean?” he asked, his face suddenly stoic.

Fred stammered his words, and then shut his mouth. How was he going to explain this? How could he possibly tell this man he thought his son had been sexually assaulted? He shuddered at the mere words in his head…how would Severus react?

“Mr. Weasley? What happened? Harry’s obviously far from all right and the way you just spoke those words…they leave me feeling anxious. Did he say something to you?” he asked, clearly trying to reign in his fear and frustration.

“No,” he started slowly. “It wasn’t what he said, it was how he reacted to me…” he trailed off; still unsure of how to phrase the words he absolutely had to say. He pulled Harry tighter against his chest, somehow needing to feel him closer now that he was about to tell Snape his suspicions. “I think his Uncle did something more to him,” he said quickly, his eyes locked onto Snape’s.

“Precisely what does that mean, Weasley?” he asked, his concern multiplying. He was growing a bit apprehensive himself as the older teen kept shying away from the topic that he couldn’t seem to state out loud.

Fred clenched his hands as he spoke the words. “I think his Uncle molested him,” he said, his eyes firm on Snape’s.

Severus drew back as if he’s been hit. “What?” he asked. All his educated words and sarcasm were left behind in the face of this shocking revelation. He couldn’t seem to fathom what he was hearing. He’d had his own suspicions…but this was beyond even what he had imagined. Severus shook his head and looked away towards the lake. His jaw clenched shut tight in horror and anger.

Fred wasn’t sure what to think. Did he believe him? Was he going to say anything about this? He knew it would be a shock, but now he just wished the man would say something. It was truly frightening to watch Severus Snape build into a rage.

And then all the anger and rage melted away into anguish. It all made sense now. The nightmares, the increased fear of touch…something had triggered Harry’s memories at the train station. And then Dursley had done something to his son when he’d kidnapped him. The idea of anyone touching Harry like that nearly threw him into another fit of rage, but he was able to quell it before he let his emotions get away from him.

He looked at his son, his face turned towards him, cushioned against Fred Weasley’s chest. He looked so innocent and young…and if what Weasley said was true…Harry’s innocence had been ripped away from him in an act so vile he couldn’t even bare to imagine how horrible it must have been for his son.

Severus couldn’t stand it a second longer. He stood up and leaned down towards the older teen. “Let me have him,” he said softly. He needed to hold him.

The redhead could completely understand what he could only assume was desperation in the man’s eyes as he leaned over him to get his son. He stood up so it would be an easier transferal and together they were able to get Harry into Severus’ arms without the small teen ever waking. As if knowing who was holding him, Harry clung tighter to Snape’s shirt front and buried his face into his chest as his father pulled him closer, almost to the point where he was worried he would wake his son if he held him any tighter. He couldn’t stop himself though, and Harry didn’t wake. Severus’ lightly kissed the top of Harry’s head, thinking. Then he turned back to the Weasley boy. He needed to know everything.

“You said he reacted to you. Precisely how did he react?”

Fred took in a deep breath. “I startled him. I put my hand on his shoulder and I thought he was going to go into a fit or something. First he went stiff as a board, then he started shaking so badly…I knew I’d terrified him,” he whispered, ashamed at the thought of scaring Harry so badly.

Severus shook his head. “You didn’t know, Mr. Weasley. Apparently, no one did,” he stated, more of a chastisement against himself than anything else. He was angry too.

Sighing, Fred went on with his story. He didn’t know how to make things better for Harry’s father, and really, what could he do? Nothing he was about to say would help either. “I turned him around and whenever I tried to touch him, he wouldn’t let me. He became nearly hysterical. He told me to wait. I did, for a moment, but he wouldn’t talk to me. Finally, I think I might have touched his arm or something, and he started to cry…” he trailed off, the memory of Harry’s reaction and the look on his face nearly caused tears to come to his eyes. “I didn’t know what to do, so I just grabbed him and held on. He calmed down after awhile, but…he was scared of me Professor. He wouldn’t even let me get near him until I basically forcibly took him in my arms. That’s not normal, not even for Harry and everything he’s ever been through before this,” he explained. Severus had to believe him, which it was fairly obvious that he did, but he might think he was overreacting if he didn’t explain everything in detail now.

Snape nodded, his eyes distant as he took in all the older teen had said. This was awful. How could something like this have happened to his son and he, Severus Snape, not notice! He was appalled at himself and the situation in general. Emotions crossed his face quicker than he was able to hide them behind his stoic façade. He’d like nothing better than to hunt down Harry’s Uncle and torture him in ways that even Voldemort would be faint to see. He also wanted to take Harry far away and never let the boy out of his sight ever again. The second option was sounding more and more reasonable to him, even though he knew he couldn’t do it. Not only would it cause more harm to his son, Harry was supremely attached to his friends, it was also just completely out of the question. It was a thought purely brought out due to the madness of the situation. He wouldn’t follow through with it, nor would a few people allow him to either.

His wandering thoughts led him to Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. How would they react to this horrifying news? He hated to admit it, but he felt an obligation to Black to tell him the truth, he was Harry’s godfather after all. And Lupin would surely know within moments of the mangy mutt knowing. He took in a deep breath and pulled his son closer to his chest. But, first things first. He needed to get Harry inside the house and into bed. And a dreamless sleep potion would probably be in order as well.

“I know no one got a chance to visit with Harry, but I do believe I’m going to have to send everyone home without seeing him,” he said softly, watching for Weasley’s reaction. The redhead was more understanding and he should have known as much, considering the circumstances.

“How are we going to get them to leave without seeing him though?” asked Fred. He had known this would happen before Severus even stepped foot outside. Harry was in no condition to socialize. Not tonight, maybe not for a while.

Snape dropped his head against Harry’s. “I have no idea,” he said. It would be nearly impossible to get everyone out of the Manor without a plausible explanation. But he couldn’t tell them the truth, it wouldn’t be fair to Harry, nor was he prepared to deal with an angry band of Weasley’s, plus Ms. Granger. Then he remembered Draco. What was he going to tell his godson? It wouldn’t take long for the blonde to figure it out, he knew for a fact the boy was incredibly intelligent. This would be a secret that Draco would be aching to discover and leave Severus hard pressed to keep it as such.

Fred sighed. “Why not tell them he got sick and is contagious…or something,” he said slowly. It was actually really hard to come up with an excuse that would get everyone to leave without telling them the truth about what they suspected with Harry. He kept having to remind himself that Harry hadn’t confirmed their suspicions yet. Not that it was all that likely that Harry would confirm them. He was fairly certain, in fact, that Harry would deny it happened at all. At which point…they’d know for certain that it had. “Or, just tell them Harry doesn’t want to see anyone right now. They’d have to go along with it, even if they didn’t want to. I mean, if Harry refuses to see them, what can they really do about it?” he asked.

Severus’ brow furrowed. “That’s actually not such a bad idea, and probably the most appropriate way to get them to leave.”

Fred nodded. He wanted to stay…desperately wanted to stay. But, he didn’t think Severus would want him to, nor would Harry for that matter. He knew Harry well, and the way he had just reacted would deeply shame Harry, even though it shouldn’t. He’d be embarrassed and seeing him would probably just make it worse.

“I’m sure Harry would want to see you tomorrow, despite what happened today,” said Snape suddenly, as if reading his mind.

Fred was glad to hear the man wouldn’t mind if he came back the next day, but would Harry? Snape said Harry wouldn’t mind, and in turn gave his permission for a visit, but he still worried for his small friends’ reaction come tomorrow. And what would he say to his family once they were home. It must have been pretty obvious by now that he’d been with them, considering he was among the missing as it were.

Severus had summoned Cella while Fred had been so deep in his thoughts. The elf was standing up on the moss-covered stump to reach Harry and once she touched him, the two disappeared.

Fred found himself feeling saddened, wondering where Harry was now and how he would cope with it all when he woke up. “Where did she take him?” he asked softly but unable to look Snape in the eyes. Somehow, he felt like he’d started this entire thing, but it was for the best they knew, right? They had to help Harry. No matter what it took.

………………………………….

It hadn’t been easy getting the Weasley’s to leave. Surprisingly, or perhaps not so surprisingly, Ms. Granger had been the voice of reason and had helped them when it came to getting the rest of them into the fireplace and back home. She’d been worried; they all had been when Severus had told them Harry didn’t wish to have company today. They’d asked to return the following morning, but Severus had to turn them down on that as well. Perhaps next week, he’d said, much to everyone’s displeasure.

He didn’t know how long he could keep them at bay, but he would certainly try. Harry would need time. Severus groaned as he sat down in the chair beside his son’s bed. It was barely noon and already Harry was asleep in bed. The very thought of seeing his friends had sent him running to hide. And then one mere touch had brought him to near hysterics. He had to fight to keep back his anger, his tears. Severus Snape hadn’t shed one single solitary tear since he was a child. It had been considered a weakness by his parents and therefore forced out of him. Now, his deep and overwhelming love for his son had them coming back to the surface. And he wished like anything that none of this had ever happened to his child.

He had to consider how he would get Harry to talk. It would have to happen. He still hoped somewhere inside that Fred Weasley had been mistaken and none of what he’d said happened was true. But wishful thinking would get him nowhere and only bring more pain. It was frighteningly obvious that something was wrong, had been wrong for quite some time now. It left him wondering how long the abuse had gone on. How early in Harry’s childhood had it begun? The thought sent a chill of dread down his spine and a tingle of rage into his mind once more. He couldn’t get angry though, not in his son’s presence. What if Harry woke up and saw his expression just now? He’d be terrified, would probably even think he was the cause of his anger and pain. He wouldn’t realize Severus had learned the truth, or at least suspected the truth.

Severus knew he couldn’t get all worked up yet. For all he knew it wasn’t as bad as he thought. And, for all he knew, it could be so much worse than he thought. Another shiver worked his body as he imagined what his son could have been put through and had to forcibly think of something else. He’d had Cella bring him a dose of Dreamless Sleep and busied himself with pouring the substance into a cup for Harry’s later use. He hadn’t woken just to dose him with Dreamless Sleep, considering he was already sleeping. But, he’d stayed close by in case any nightmares occurred. He wouldn’t allow Harry to suffer anymore today than he already had.

Severus was beginning to realize that sitting in the armchair beside Harry’s bed wasn’t close enough. He couldn’t explain it, the undeniable urge he had to just be as close to his son as was humanly possible. He wanted to be able to protect him at a moment’s notice. It wasn’t very likely that anything would happen here in the boy’s bedroom, but Snape couldn’t feel comfortable until he was closer. He ended up perched on the side of the bed as he ran a slightly shaking hand through his son’s raven hair and was startled when the boy’s eyes shot open.

“Harry?” he asked gently, making a move to touch Harry’s hair once more, if only to soothe him, and possibly himself as well. There was just something about comforting his own child that had a tendency to soothe even his own frazzled nerves in the worst situations.

Harry jerked away from the touch as if burned. “No,” he gasped, turning on his side, away from his father.

Severus sighed. “Harry?” he asked again, his voice gentle still. He tried once more to place his hand on Harry’s shoulder only to realize with a jolt that Harry wasn’t even entirely awake.

“Get away,” Harry whispered, his hands battling against Severus’, only he didn’t realize those hands were meant to comfort and not to hurt. “Don’t!” screamed Harry as Severus’ hand landed on the small of his back.

Instantly Severus raised his hands and moved off the bed. “Harry!” he called, desperate to get his son’s attention, to wake him up and reacquaint him with reality.

Harry either couldn’t or wouldn’t listen to him. He continued to lie on the far side of the bed, as far away from the presumed threat as possible, his slight frame shaking as his fear nearly overwhelmed him.

Severus didn’t know what to do. And sweet Merlin, he suddenly understood how much worse this was. And that Weasley had been right. There was clearly more to the situation than what he’d ever imagined. He felt the rage pull him in once more but swiftly brought it back under control. If Harry sensed how angry he was, not at him but at the boy’s atrocious relatives, he’d come unhinged.

Taking in a deep breath, Snape approached Harry from the other side of the bed. “Harry, it’s Dad,” he said calmly. “Wake up. No one here will harm you, I promise you that,” he said gently.

Harry shook his head. “No, leave me alone. I don’t want you to…” he trailed off and Severus felt his eyes grow large. What?

“Harry, it’s your Father speaking. No one else is in the house,” he fleetingly thought that Cella actually was in the house, but felt that his mind was thinking extremely odd thoughts at an extremely difficult moment. “It’s just you and me. You needn’t be frightened.”

But Harry continued to shake and whimper, a sound which was beginning to tear at Severus’ heart. “Please, child, are you awake?” he asked. What was going on? The boy’s eyes were opened, yet he didn’t seem to realize where he was. Taking a chance, the Slytherin stepped closer to the bed and right beside his son. Harry had closed his eyes but suddenly went completely still at sensing his presence. Severus watched in anguish as his son’s face crumpled into tears and he curled into a ball so small it was a wonder he could manage it.

“Nooo,” moaned Harry. “Please don’t…” he swiped a hand out and smacked Severus in the stomach.

Snape let out a small ‘oomph’ and grabbed the small hand in his grip, causing Harry to become even more hysterical. “No, no, no!” he was screaming now and fighting Severus with everything he had in his exhausted body. Harry’s eyes were wide open and terrified, but he didn’t see Severus at all. Instead, he saw something so much more horrifying. “No, Uncle. Please don’t!” he kicked his legs out but met nothing but air.

A loud gasp behind him alerted Severus to the presence of his godson. So much for keeping it a secret.

“Severus?” Draco looked shocked and a little bit frightened. “What’s going on?” he stared at his friend screaming on the bed as Severus tried to calm him without causing him to flinch in fear. Was this another one of those panic attacks? But Draco had never seen one get this bad before. He looked towards his godfather again and noticed for the first time the fear and the sheer ‘I don’t know what to do to help him’ look on his face. Draco strode forward. “Is he awake?” he asked, not completely knowing what was going on. But he knew how to calm him from a panic attack and thought he could help.

Severus shook his head. “I don’t believe so,” he said quickly, motioning for Draco to stay back.

“But, Severus!” he complained, thinking he knew better how to help than Snape did. “He’s having some sort of attack!”

Severus raised his eyes to the ceiling. “Yes, Draco, I realize that. But,” he swore to himself. “There’s more to it than a mere panic attack.”

Draco watched him and then turned back to his friend…his brother. He could tell something different was happening here, but he’d hoped he was wrong. That it had only been a nightmare turned panic attack…but this looked worse, so much worse. “Can you wake him?” he asked softly, so softly Severus almost didn’t hear him over Harry, thankfully the boy’s screams were descending back into whimpers…Severus realized he preferred the screams to the noises now coming out of Harry’s mouth.

Severus sat gently on the side of the bed but made no further move to touch his son. He didn’t want to frighten him any more than he already was. But, he had to get him to wake up…one way or another. “Harry!” he yelled.

Harry’s entire body flinched. Severus hadn’t even realized that was possible until he watched his son do it, his entire frame nearly jolting with the intensity of his fear. He regretted yelling, but he wanted the boy to wake up. Perhaps he was going about this in the wrong way. He was under the assumption that Harry was asleep…but he was beginning to realize that he wasn’t, not really. He was awake, he just wasn’t fully aware of where he was and who he was with…almost as if he was having some kind of flashback.

He knew the initial reaction wouldn’t be pleasant, but he also realized it may be the only way to get Harry to calm down. He slid closer to his son and before Harry had a chance to react, scooped him into his arms and held him firmly, yet gently, against his chest. His son’s reaction was strong and he suddenly seemed stronger as his terror drew him to greater heights of fear. He struggled and bucked against his father’s arms, trying so hard to break free.

“No!” he screamed, thrashing about like a man struggling for air. Severus leaned back against the headboard to better support himself and the flailing Harry in his arms, and then proceeded to try and soothe his son with his words. Harry continued to struggle against him, begging him to let him go, and Severus felt his breath catch in his throat when Harry pleaded with him not to touch him.

“Harry!” Severus gently grabbed his son’s face between his hands and forced him to meet his eyes. “Harry, child, it’s Dad!” he exclaimed, his voice firm and steady though he felt like it would break any moment in the face of his son’s distress. This was so much more than he’d expected. Harry was so scared. If he couldn’t calm him down, he didn’t know what he would do. But, suddenly, Harry’s large eyes seemed to focus more on his own and he took in a deep, shuddering breath.

“Dad?” he moaned pitifully, one tear sliding down his cheek as he finally sagged in his father’s arms. He looked up and saw Draco standing shocked in the doorway and buried his head in Severus’ chest. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled even more pitifully.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” insisted Severus, resting one hand on Harry’s head and carding gently through the raven locks to soothe him.

There was so much more to Harry’s apologizing than Severus or Draco would ever know. He was sorry for having disturbed them, but most of all he was sorry for letting them touch him, as he knew he was contaminating them, getting them dirty too. Especially his father as he wasn’t even completely sure that Draco had touched him. And there was one other thing as well.

“I’m sorry I thought you were him,” he said softly, eyes downcast.

Severus knew to whom Harry was referring but didn’t know if now was the time to discuss it. It was fairly obvious Harry was still disoriented, scared and confused. The boy still looked exhausted and he found himself wondering what horrors lay in his son’s nightmares. He decided to forego the conversation concerning the teen’s Uncle until he was better able to handle it emotionally. Harry looked like he would shatter at any given moment, at one wrong word. He couldn’t force a painful discussion on top of everything else.

“It’s all right, Harry. You were confused when you woke up, and I don’t think you were entirely awake, either. There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he said again, wishing Harry would believe him, which he doubted he would.

Harry remained quiet after that, simply resting against his father’s chest, something Severus was surprised at, but pleased at as well. Harry still felt safe enough around him to allow touch, even if Severus hadn’t been the one to instigate it. Any attempt to put his arms around the boy, however, caused Harry to go tense, so he instead settled with one hand stroking Harry’s hair while the other lay limply at his side, though it ached to encircle his son.

Draco was still standing in the doorway, looking horror stricken and angry. He caught Severus’ eye and in that instant Snape knew his godson knew the truth as well. The way Harry had reacted when he was waking up and the events that took place afterwards was enough of an indication to both of them. It confirmed Severus beliefs and it awakened Draco’s. But there was still so much more they didn’t know. And so many questions were left unanswered until Harry could find the strength it would take to talk of them.

Severus called for Cella, who appeared instantly with their lunch in tow. One look at the boy in her Master’s arms and she felt for certain she had done the right thing, even if she had betrayed the smaller boy’s wishes. She still felt awful for that, but it had been necessary. She had brought up a bowl of soup for the Master’s son; rightly knowing he wouldn’t be able to stomach anything else. But he needed to eat. She’d also brought another dose of Dreamless Sleep, but it appeared as if Severus hadn’t given Harry the first dose yet. After finishing her task she disappeared out the doorway until she was needed again.

Snape had to coerce Harry into eating at least some of his soup, but finally he managed about a third of the bowl before he said he felt sick to his stomach. Severus didn’t push after that. He knew it would be best just to put Harry back to sleep but almost didn’t want to. It was nice to just sit and hold the boy, even though he was barely touching him at all. But he knew this wouldn’t last forever and eventually Harry wouldn’t be able to stand it and want to pull away. Like he always seemed to do lately. Another sign he should have noticed but didn’t. He stopped berating himself, that wouldn’t help the situation any.

Harry had seen the Dreamless Sleep sitting on the bedside table and knew of his father’s intentions. He actually would prefer to be asleep as well, especially with knowing he wouldn’t have to deal with any more nightmares. It was better than being awake and remembering everything he had tried so hard to forget. When Severus handed him the bottle he didn’t complain or put up a fight. Maybe everything would feel different in the morning, he hoped. He doubted it, but he still hoped.

Severus tucked Harry into bed and waited with him until he fell completely asleep. Then he brushed the hair from Harry’s face and leaned down to lightly kiss his forehead. “I love you,” he whispered.