It was Thursday. It was a month into their summer vacation, with two more to go. So far, it hadn’t been everything Harry had hoped it would be. In fact, he was fairly certain this was not the way he had planned his holiday to begin with. It was supposed to be fun and relaxing. He had planned on spending tons of time with his father and his friends. He’d hoped to explore the Manor and find the secret passageways his Dad had told him about a few times. So far, the only thing he’d managed to accomplish was spending time with his friends and his father. But not in the way he had expected. It was more like a hovering at this point, what with everything that had happened, everything he’d started to remember. Now, he wished he could just start this entire situation over again, minus running into his Uncle at the train station. Then, maybe, none of this would have happened. He’d still be blissfully unaware of his horrific past.

But, it had happened, he did remember, and now his Dad and his friends were treating him like he’d break at any given moment. And it didn’t help that he sometimes felt the same way about himself. Like a good strong wind would knock him over and blow him away. It wasn’t a very comforting feeling, to say the least. And, knowing that he was being watched all day and all night was beginning to tire him. He didn’t like the sensation of eyes on him at all times, as they were right now. He was sitting out on the stump beside the lake and he just knew someone was watching him from the library windows. He refused to look, refused to acknowledge that he realized he was being watched. It was annoying all the same.

Two days ago he’d remembered every single solitary thing his Uncle had ever done to him. He remembered, and he hated himself for the entire thing. He’d been told numerous times that it hadn’t been his fault. He’d been told numerous times that he should blame the one who had done this to him, not himself. He’d been told lots of things, in fact, all of which he seemed determined to ignore. They didn’t know what this was like. They didn’t know what he was feeling inside right now. They didn’t know jack and he wished fervently that they’d just keep their noses out of it.

He hated wanted to be by himself, when at the same time he couldn’t seem to stay away from his family. His friends. He felt scared and vulnerable without them near. He hated it. He wished he could just leave and go for a walk, maybe visit the gatehouse, considering he could lock himself inside and not worry about anyone coming in after him. But, the idea of walking away from those watching eyes sent not only a token of satisfaction, but also a shiver of fear down his spine. And, he hated it.

His father had tried talking to him in the past few days, but Harry pretty much refused. He couldn’t talk about it yet; he didn’t think he’d be able to explain it in a way that he would understand. He didn’t want to explain it either. The very idea of telling his father what his Uncle had done to him…everything his Uncle had done to him seriously made him sick to his stomach. It hadn’t seemed real until two days ago. He’d hoped it was all still some kind of disgusting dream that he kept having, but no…it had been real. Harry rubbed his forehead distractedly, remembering the pain he’d endured while he was remembering. Not the best way to relive the past, doubled over with the most intense pain of his life. At least now they understood why he’d kept having those stupid headaches. His Dad thought they had been covering up the truth. If he tried to remember, or something started to trigger a memory, he’d develop a blinding headache. It made sense now, he supposed, why the headaches started up again after seeing his Uncle.

Shaking his head almost violently, Harry forced himself to think of different things. It was actually a difficult thing to do. Anytime he started to think of something else, even something as mundane as Quidditch, something would lead back to the events of the past month. Damn his Uncle to hell.

Harry stood from the tree stump and brushed the dirt from the back of his pants. It was getting a little chilly outside in the waning light of the summer day and he knew his father would be calling him soon. Better to go in now and make it seem more like his idea rather than waiting to be called. It seemed stupid, but it was just a little more control that he didn’t think he really had lately. It was as if everyone thought he couldn’t take care of himself anymore. As if he hadn’t been doing just that for years.

The veranda doors were slightly ajar when he approached, and Harry assumed someone might have been watching him from there as well as the library balcony. He wouldn’t be surprised.

Zane stood just off the hallway before it opened up into the foyer. Harry had been surprised at just how very protective the dog had become since that night. He’d been told how Zane had reacted, and he was honestly surprised the Rottweiler had gotten quite so mean and dangerous over his well being. Not that it wasn’t a nice thought that his dog loved him so much that he would go super defensive. It was actually rather flattering in a weird way.

Unsurprisingly, his father was in his study as he passed the open door on his trek inside. He wondered if it had been him standing guard at the doors, which led him to wonder who had staked out the library balcony. Probably Draco, he assumed.

“Harry?” came the voice from within the partly opened doors.

“Yeah?”

“Decided to come inside then?” he asked.

Harry shook his head where his father could see. “Yeah,” he repeated.

There was a soft sigh that Harry didn’t think he was supposed to hear. “Would you like some supper?”

Feeling a little bad, and not really understanding why, Harry felt like he couldn’t turn down the offer. “Yeah, I could eat something,” he said hesitatingly. His stomach hadn’t been exactly stable for quite a while, and eating hadn’t been the number one thing on his list. But, he knew his father was worrying about him. He hated making his Dad worry. It made Harry feel ten times worse than he normally did.

Severus suddenly appeared at the doors then, pushing them completely open. “Let’s go to the kitchen,” he said quickly, and Harry thought his Dad must be scared he’d change his mind.

“Okay.”

He wasn’t incredibly hungry, really, but he knew he needed to eat. It wasn’t healthy and he was feeling incredibly worn down. More so than normal, at least. He pulled up a chair to the table at his father’s instruction and sat waiting patiently.

“Draco and I just had some sandwiches for supper. Is that okay?” asked Severus, pulling out a few items from the cupboard.

Harry nodded. Something light sounded kind of good any way. “Sure,” he added when his father kept looking at him.

His sandwich was prepared rather quickly, which also led Harry to believe his father was afraid he’d run out before he’d even finished making it, and set before him with a glass of juice. He picked it up and nibbled at it. Sometimes he felt so sick when he started to eat that he would have to make a mad dash for the bathroom. He wasn’t sure why he felt that way, but he did. At least, he had been for the past two days. That was another thing he hated. Everything seemed to have changed drastically in the time span of two stupid days.

He realized fairly quickly that his line of thought wasn’t helping his stomach situation and quickly turned it on to something else. “Where’s Draco?” he asked, taking another small bite of his sandwich.

Severus looked up from his cup of tea. Harry hadn’t even realized he’d made himself a cup. “I think he’s upstairs. Would you like him to join us?” he asked cautiously.

Harry shrugged his thin shoulders. “Don’t bother him, he’s probably doing something.”

“If you’re sure?”

“Yeah, I don’t want to disturb him.”

Severus sighed. Again. “He’d really like to talk to you, I think. He hasn’t had the chance in a few days,” said his father slowly.

Harry cringed, knowing that was his fault, not Draco’s. “I’m sorry,” he muttered softly.

“Don’t be. There’s nothing to be sorry about,” said his father, his tone equally soft.

Harry found himself sighing that time. “I’ll go and talk to him later.”

“That’s fine.”

They ate in silence after that. Or, Severus drank his tea and Harry nibbled on his sandwich. No mention of Harry’s Uncle or the events of two days prior was mentioned, something Harry was glad about, but it had taken quite a little upset for his father to figure out that Harry wouldn’t talk about it. He couldn’t talk about it. And it had taken a right down screaming hysterical fit for his father to realize that. Harry wasn’t ready. He was beginning to think he’d never be ready to talk about it, though he knew he should. But the mere thought of it sent a bout of nausea through him, so strong that he almost always vomited right after. He thought there was probably something wrong with all of that, but he couldn’t make it stop either. And it just seemed easier not to mention it. At least he wouldn’t get sick.

He barely finished half of his sandwich before settling it back down on his plate. “Sorry,” he muttered apologetically to his father. He knew how upset his Dad was beginning to get when he couldn’t finish his meals. But, it was another thing he couldn’t help. And it was another thing he hated. Especially when his father looked at him like that. Like he was so worried he didn’t know what to do with himself. Harry almost said he was sorry again but knew that wouldn’t get them anywhere, except another look from his father that would lead to his heart feeling like it was going to come out of his throat.

Harry picked up his plate and glass and placed them in the sink for Cella to wash later. He would do them himself, but she wouldn’t let him. He’d been trying, but the elf started to cry the last time. So he stopped.

“Are you going to bed?” asked his father, causing Harry to pause right before the doorway leading into the foyer and his escape up the stairs.

“Yeah, I think so.”

Severus nodded. “Would you like a potion?” he asked.

Harry knew precisely which potion his father was referring to. The one that would let him sleep all night without screaming his head off and waking the entire house. Something he’d done just last night. He was surprised his father was even offering, which led Harry to believe it must have been really bad last night. His Dad had basically said he couldn’t have the stuff anymore, it was too addicting or something such as that.

“I can have it?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Harry stood there, just at the doors to his ‘freedom,’ wondering if he should take his Dad up on his offer. He knew how addicting it could be, even if he did really want a good night’s sleep. But, then he remembered the nightmares he had after he stopped using the potion. They were about ten times worse than normal, and he always had a horrible time waking up afterwards. He didn’t like that sensation even less than he wanted to get a good night’s sleep. It was a lose/lose situation, in Harry’s mind. If he took the potion, he’d have one night of good rest, but the next night would be hell on wheels. And if he didn’t take the potion, he’d have nightmares, but at least he’d be able to wake himself up. Hopefully before anyone else heard him.

“I don’t think I’d better,” he said softly.

Severus nodded his head in understanding, as if he’d read his son’s mind. At least, it looked that way to Harry.

“Do you want me to come up with you?” he asked.

Harry shook his head. “No, I’ll be okay.”

Severus nodded his head again, though he looked a little pained. Harry cringed. His father was trying so hard to help him, and it seemed he was turning the man down at every turn. He just couldn’t help it.

“Thanks any way.”

“I’ll be in my room if you need me,” he offered one last compromise.

Harry acknowledged it for what it was. If his nightmares became unbearable, he was welcome to wake his Dad up, no matter what the hour, no matter what he needed. Even if he just wanted someone to talk to, Harry knew his father would be there waiting for him. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Any time.”

Harry nodded and headed upstairs before his father pulled him into the hug he could see the man wanted to do. He felt bad for brushing his father off, but he was having even more issues with hugging and being hugged than he had been before. And for good reason, he thought. His father was lucky if he let him touch his hair; something the man had grown fond of doing.

His bedroom was dark when he walked in the door and he fumbled for the light switch on the wall. As soon as the light illuminated the room, he felt better. He hated that moment when he couldn’t see what was in the room with him and his hand was seemingly in no man’s land. He realized now it stemmed back to an encounter from his past, but he quickly pushed those thoughts away. It was not good to be even slightly thinking about such things right before bed. He’d be asking for a nightmare if he did.

Changing into his pajamas took hardly any time at all, and he quickly brushed his teeth and washed his face before climbing into bed. He briefly wondered why he didn’t hear Draco following through with his normal nighttime routine, but didn’t dwell on it. He was probably reading or something. He seemed to be reading a lot lately. Pulling the covers up to his chin, Harry snuggled down and tried to think about happy things. It wasn’t exactly helpful, but he hoped it would at least grant him a small reprieve that night. He didn’t want the nightmares. He really didn’t.

…………………………………….

Around 2 o’clock in the morning, Harry started having a nightmare. It was brief in its intensity. Zane was out in the hallway, as he did every night now, watching over his boy. The second Harry started thrashing and crying out, Zane was through the door-less entry way and heading towards the bed. He jumped up and immediately lay down at Harry’s side, careful as he went.

The effect was instantaneous. Harry stopped thrashing and went completely still as he felt the comforting warmth curl up beside him. It would be a long time before he ever realized why he didn’t have nightmares quite as often as he should have.

…………………………………………

“What do you mean?”

Severus pulled a hand through his hair, his face becoming more and more ragged as he stood and talked to these men. It wasn’t that hard of a bloody concept to understand.

“I mean that bastard had been abusing my son! He’s been doing it for years. And, it wasn’t just physical or emotional,” he said roughly, his voice doing a spiral between heated and heart broken. “He…damnit. He molested him that day he took Harry while everyone was out shopping,”

Sirius didn’t give him a chance to continue. “He what?” The look on Harry’s godfather’s face was something most grown men would run from in terror.

Severus was hard pressed to stay where he was. It was only the fact that he knew the man wasn’t pissed as hell at him that kept him rooted to his spot. He glanced at Remus to see a look of shock. His face had gone so pale Severus was worried he might need to sit down. He was about to move to get a chair for the man when Sirius started talking again.

“What do…he did that? To my godson?” he asked, his voice faltering as Severus’ had done just moments before. Sirius ended up taking the seat Severus had been considering pushing Lupin into. He looked completely and utterly shocked, horrified, angry, and just heartbroken. “He did that to Harry? Our Harry?”

“Oh my…no.” Remus was finally coming out of his stand still and, if it was possible, he looked even more enraged than Black had. “Is that why he’s there? I had no idea he was there for a reason other than safety. I just thought…no wonder Dumbledore wouldn’t tell us a damn thing!” he yelled, stalking across the room, his face going from pale to red in a matter of seconds. “I’m going to kill the bastard.”

Severus didn’t doubt it, either. He was fairly certain the werewolf in the man was coming out a bit prematurely. “Calm down, Lupin. Harry’s upstairs asleep. He does not need to wake up to this.”

Both men went completely still then, as if realizing that Harry was indeed in the house. “Can we see him?” asked Black, standing up from his chair.

Severus sighed. He hadn’t planned on keeping them away from the boy, but he wondered if it was such a good idea to let them go up there now, in this state.

“We’re calm now. We just need to see him,” said Black softly. “Please?”

It was probably the fact that Sirius Black had just said ‘please’ to him, and was taking Severus’ own wishes into consideration that let him ease up on his initial plan of keeping them at bay. “Don’t wake him up,” he advised.

Black and Lupin both nodded their consent and followed him up the stairs to his son’s bedroom. He was surprised to see Zane laying in bed with the boy, but considering how protective he’d become…it wasn’t all that surprising.

Zane slowly climbed off the bed, apparently sensing it was time to go, and strolled out of the room. Harry was curled up on his side on the far edge of the bed, looking as content as one could be with the amount of sleep he seemed to be getting. Or lack thereof. Severus was honestly surprised the boy hadn’t had another nightmare that night. Not that he wasn’t happy he hadn’t had one, he was. It was just unusual for him to not have one…at least lately it was.

He watched as Black slowly settled himself on the side of the bed near Harry’s head while Lupin sat on the other side. He would have to lean across the bed to even see his son’s face, and he hoped they were careful.

…………………………………………

He looked so peaceful when he slept, so young, so vulnerable, and so damn helpless. It sent a tingle of anger through him at the thought of that monster forcing himself on his godson. It was an anger that tried to consume him and he was unsure of how to handle it. He’d never been quite so…enraged before, nor so saddened. Nothing had ever made him feel like this, and he never wanted to feel this way again.

Hoping he wouldn’t wake him up, Sirius gently brushed a lock of hair behind Harry’s ear, letting his hand linger on the boy’s cheek afterwards. His thumb starting stroking of it’s own accord, and he was shocked to feel tears welling up in his eyes. He glanced up when he felt someone watching him, only to find Remus in almost the same state as he was.

Harry started to stir then, his small frame stretching out as he began to wake up. Sirius quickly removed his hand and got up from the bed, noticing Remus doing the same. Harry was rolling onto his back by that point and his hands were rubbing his eyes. As he sat up, he finally seemed to realize that there was someone else in the room with him.

Sirius felt his heart shudder in his chest as the boy tensed up and his head turned quickly in their direction.

“S-sirius! Remus!” he called out, his voice shaky for a moment before becoming steady again. They’d frightened him, he knew.

Harry was climbing out of bed as Sirius’ thoughts were running in circles in his mind. He couldn’t seem to get the images of what he imagined that bastard did to his godson out of his mind. He finally shook his head mentally and kicked the thoughts to the curb. Now was not the time to be dwelling on that. He shouldn’t dwell on it at all, he reasoned. Maybe later…when he killed the man.

He briefly considered giving the kid a hug, but shot that idea down when a single pat on the head caused the boy to flinch like he’s just slapped him across the face.

“You okay?” he asked, knowing the answer already. How can you be okay after something like that?

“Yeah, fine,” the boy mumbled, clearly at a lack of what to do.

“Maybe we should go downstairs while Harry gets dressed?” suggested Severus. Sirius saw the gratified look cross his godson’s face and headed towards the door. He wouldn’t deny the boy the peace and quiet he obviously needed.

“Come down when you’re ready, kid,” added Sirius once they were in the hallway. He saw Harry nod his head once and waited as Severus led them down the stairs. It was going to be a long day; he could feel it in his bones.

………………………………………..

Draco waited until his godfather, Black, and Lupin had disappeared down the stairs before finally coming out of his room. He hadn’t talked to Harry since ‘it’ happened two days ago. He’d been dying to talk to his friend, his brother, but didn’t think it would be a good time to do so. Any time he’d tried to say something to him, Harry would either walk away or shut down. But, he’d seemed a little better since it had all happened. He thought it might be a good time to try again, at least.

He walked in the door just as Harry was coming out of the bathroom. The smaller teen had gotten dressed for the day and was about to put on his shoes when he finally seemed to notice his presence in the doorway.

“Hey, Harry,” said Draco softly, waiting to be either ignored or told to get out.

Neither happened.

“Draco,” he said just as quietly. “Why aren’t you downstairs having breakfast?”

Draco shrugged his shoulders. It seemed an odd question to ask, as he hardly ever ate breakfast, something Harry knew and was familiar with. He figured it was some kind of distraction tactic, but Draco didn’t know why. Unless Harry thought he was going to bring up the other night. Which he didn’t plan on, Harry needed his friends, not someone who was constantly being a jerk and asking what had happened or if he wanted to talk about it. He figured Harry would talk when he was ready.

“I wanted to wait for you,” said Draco.

Harry nodded as if that made sense. “Okay,” he paused while he tied his laces. “My godfather and Remus are here. Did you see them?”

”Yeah, I did.”

“Do they know?” asked Harry suddenly, startling Draco. He hadn’t expected Harry to even mention anything involving his past.

“About…?” Draco let the sentence hang, wondering what his friend would say. There were no words needed though, as Harry simply looked at him and Malfoy knew precisely what he was referring to. “I’m not sure, actually. I know Severus was going to tell them, though. So, presumably, they are aware of what happened now,” he let Harry know as gently as he could, unsure of his reaction. So much for not discussing it. But, maybe Harry was a little more ready to bring it up now than he had been when it was fresh on his mind.

Harry finished tying his other shoe and stood up with his back towards Draco. “I kind of thought they might know,” he said softly, leaving Draco wondering what had happened that morning while he’d been snooping in his bedroom door out of sight.

It seemed like a good time to change the subject. He could just feel Harry closing in on himself and wanted to shut that down while he was still ahead, as it were. “I think Cella’s probably done with breakfast if you want to come downstairs and eat with us?” he asked gently. It was becoming more and more of a habit for Harry not to join them for meals, something Severus wasn’t too fond of. Draco wasn’t either, though, now that he thought about it. It wasn’t healthy, and he’d been so pleased when he’d seen Harry with Severus in the kitchen last night. A small improvement, but an improvement nonetheless. “And, I think Fred might be coming over today, as well,” he added in the hopes of cheering Harry up. Fred and Harry had become greater and greater friends throughout all this mess, and sometimes he was the only one Harry would let close to him, other than his father, of course.

“Yeah, I’m a little hungry,” he muttered, finally turning away from the window and facing the blonde who was waiting patiently for him. If not a little anxiously.

They descended the stairs together, and Draco wondered if Harry remembered that Black and Lupin were still in the house. It appeared that he did, or he didn’t let their presence startle him as they walked into the dining room and saw all three men that Harry had ever considered a father figure in his life, sitting at the table peacefully. Actually, it was probably the ‘peacefully’ part that may have proved the most shocking factor of all. It was a rarity to get these three men in the same room without a fight starting. Draco figured they’d put aside their differences for the greater good, much like he and Ron Weasley had done. Harry was more important than any stupid arse argument.

Harry ended up sitting in between his father and his godfather. Draco wasn’t sure if they had planned it that way, or not, but it seemed not to bother Harry, so he didn’t mention anything about it. And it left the blonde sitting beside Remus Lupin, which just seemed weird. They never talked, and the man had always somehow intimidated him. It might have been the whole werewolf thing, but he wasn’t entirely sure. That just didn’t bother him as much anymore. At least, not since he was out from under the influence of his bastard father.

“French toast?” asked Remus, holding the plate out in front of the blonde-headed Slytherin. Draco had been so deep in his own thoughts he nearly choked on the small sip of juice he had just taken. Lupin pounded him firmly on the back, and Draco thought his face had probably just turned a nice shade of red. He hated when that happened in public. It was just plain embarrassing.

“All right there?” asked the older man.

Draco nodded distractedly; too busy with wiping his mouth with his napkin to notice that he now had the entire attention of everyone at the table. It just gets better and better.

“Good one, Draco,” said Harry laughingly. Draco smiled as well, having gotten a laugh out of his friend, his brother. Getting that laugh and slight smile was worth the public choking, even if he was still an interesting shade of red. Laughter from Harry had become few and far between lately.

Draco smirked. “I do try to amuse you,” he said, his tone sarcastic, but the light in his eyes belied his words.

“I know.”

Malfoy had just picked up his fork to take a bite of the french toast that Remus had ended up putting on his plate when he’d started coughing and choking when he saw Zane standing in the doorway. Deliverance stood beside him and they both looked as if they’d just pulled themselves out of bed. He wasn’t aware of the fact that technically, Zane had. He’d been sleeping perfectly find until Severus, Sirius, and Remus had barged into Harry’s room. Deliverance took a seat on the other side of Draco, making the teen feel slightly closed in, but he wasn’t going to complain about it. There wasn’t exactly another chair at the table. Zane ended up at Harry’s feet, probably with his tongue hanging out of his mouth, begging for food. Harry was always a pushover when it came to feeding that dog from the table. Severus would have a fit if he realized.

“Is that all you’re eating?” asked Deliverance suddenly, starting Draco once more that morning.

Draco looked from his plate full of french toast and back to Deliverance who had a healthy helping herself, but also some fruit was placed beside it. “Yeah?” he asked hesitantly. He wasn’t sure why he couldn’t just eat french toast, but the woman was giving him a glare that he didn’t quite understand.

“You need to eat something better than that,” she muttered, and starting scooping some fruit onto his plate. Draco blanched.

“Hey! I don’t like fruit and I don’t want it! Kindly put it on your own plate!” he said heatedly.

“Watch your tone young man,” Deliverance replied sternly, and Draco watched her warily as she continued to place another helping of fruit on his plate. He hated fruit.

“Harry’s not eating any either,” he ventured to say, and watched as said boy gave him a death glare all his own.

“Don’t drag me into this,” said Harry, picking up his plate and holding it away from Deliverance’s steely gaze. “I don’t want any, either. Who eats fruit for breakfast, any way?” he asked.

“Well, I do. And it’s very healthy for you. It doesn’t have all that extra sugary junk in it,” explained the older woman, resorting to magic to get Harry’s plate out of his hands. “You’ll have some too.”

Harry just rolled his eyes and glared at the blonde who had started it all in the first place.

Draco briefly considered telling the woman that fruit had sugar in it too, but refrained at the look both he and Harry were getting from her. Besides, he was beginning to feel bad for the entire situation, considering Harry really was giving him one of those frightening looks.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that. I didn’t make her do it!” he said, having read the look on his friend’s face.

“Did to,” said Harry in reply.

Draco didn’t feel like giving the normal come back to that…it would seem too childish. Though, he was happy Harry was once again smiling at the events unfolding in front of him. “Did not,” he muttered under his breath. Harry grinned widely.

“Oh, stop bickering!” exclaimed Deliverance as Harry’s plate was placed back in front of him on the table.

“I’m not eating that,” he said, his tone one of fact. He really did not plan on eating it. And no one would make him. Draco thought that was a good stance to take.

“I’m not eating it either, then.”

“Boys,” it was odd to hear Severus’ voice in the midst of all their squabbling. “Just eat it.”

Draco shrugged. He still wasn’t eating it.

………………………………………

It was later that afternoon that found Harry out by the lake once again. He loved it out here. It was peaceful and quiet, and his family wasn’t too prone on forcing him out of it, either. If he stayed stuck in his room all day, they’d come and get him and make him go do something. He could only guess they thought he was getting fresh air out here, and it was better stuck outside than inside. He’d grabbed the key to the gatehouse on his way out the door. The thought had crossed his mind to go out to the place and see if he couldn’t fix it up a little himself. He couldn’t use magic, well, he probably could. But, he didn’t dare try, for fear of getting not only his father in trouble, but himself as well. He didn’t want his father mad at him, it just was not a pleasant thought at all.

He passed the lake by, even though the slight sway of the leaves in the trees and the rippling of the water seemed to call him back. He would stop by later, when he was finished in the gatehouse. It didn’t take long to get there, and he briefly wondered why no one had ever made more out of the place. It really was a nice house, when you stopped to look at it. He was surprised his father hadn’t at least done something with it, but he was dwelling on things he really knew nothing about. And besides, now he got to work with it.

The key slid easily into the keyhole, and he turned the knob as the lock clicked free. It was still cold and drafty inside, and he knew he should find the open or broken window that was letting in the leaves.

It didn’t take long to find an old broom in the closet outside of the bedrooms; something Harry hadn’t seen when they’d been investigating a few days ago. But first, he went and shut the window in the kitchen. He hadn’t noticed it before, but there was a small window just behind a cabinet in the kitchen, which someone must have left open for quite a while. He was surprised the cabinet wasn’t completely destroyed from the wind, rain, and snow that had probably accumulated over the years. But, this was the magical world; he supposed there was probably some kind of spell or ward on the gatehouse to keep it in one piece.

Armed with a broom and a dustpan, Harry went to cleaning with a will. It was at least one way to keep his mind off of things, he’d discovered, and it was also soothing in a weird way. He felt like he was accomplishing something, even if it was just sweeping up all the leaves in the living room. He ended up opening the front door and sweeping the leaves out that way, considering the dustpan he had found was a piece of crap. After he’d gotten the living room at least slightly cleaner, he scrounged around for some of the cleaning supplies they had brought with them last time. They had never really gotten the chance to start cleaning, considering his little breakdown in the upstairs bedroom. He still felt a rush of embarrassment whenever he thought about it. Of all the times to have a panic attack, it had been when his closest friends were there to witness it. How many times would that happen before he finally got a hold of himself and his emotions.

A slight clicking sound pulled him from his reverie, and he spun around where he stood in the kitchen to see that Zane had come in through the open front door.
”Hey, Zane,” he whispered, crouching down on the floor to pet the dog as he came up and rubbed his head against the palm of Harry’s hand. He was glad his Dad hadn’t gotten rid of the poor thing after that night in the study. He still couldn’t believe Zane had gone into defensive mode with his own father.

Harry was just starting to stand up again when crushing leaves from outside called his attention to the window. “What the heck is that?” he asked the dog, not expecting a reply. Zane just barked and ran towards the door. “No, Zane!” he yelled. He didn’t know what was out there, but it was big to be making so much noise, and the Rottweiler seemed determined to get outside. Harry tried to wrap his arms around the dog’s neck, but he was no match to the almost 200lb dog. Putting his hands out on the floor, he just barely managed to keep himself from smacking face first into the tile. And the damn dog was outside and running. Harry went after him, hoping there wasn’t some type of freakish animal out here in the woods with them. But, he was completely surprised by what he saw.

A horse was galloping in their direction with a rider holding securely to the reins on his back. He reigned in the horse almost directly in front of him and Harry took a step back towards the gatehouse. He didn’t know who this man was and he was fairly sure no one lived out here besides them. But what did he know? He’d only lived here himself for a month.

“Hello,” said the man, watching Harry curiously.

Harry gave a small wave and had to fight himself on running back into to the gatehouse and slamming the door behind him. “H-hi,” he whispered. The man was looking at the gatehouse with the same curious stare he had been giving Harry, and said boy wasn’t sure how he felt about that. The man wasn’t giving off any evil vibe or anything, but he still felt it safe to lean on the side of caution. Harry’s luck hadn’t been exactly stellar lately, now had it?

“I didn’t even know this house was out here,” the man said distractedly. “I know I’ve passed this way quite a few times in the past years and I’ve never noticed this house.”

Harry felt decidedly more uncomfortable at this news. He’d probably broken some type of charm on the house when he’d entered it. He wondered if this man was a muggle, which would explain why he hadn’t been able to see the gatehouse before now. “Oh really?” said Harry, trying to keep his tone natural. “It’s been here all the time,” he muttered, hoping the man wouldn’t dwell on the suddenly appearing cottage for long. “In fact, my brother and I just recently found it ourselves,” he added, “it had been covered with vines and the grass had grown up so tall it was hard to see. You probably passed right by it and never even noticed.”

“Well, I must have,” he said, seeming to buy the story Harry was giving him. The man seemed to pull himself from his own thoughts and suddenly jumped down off his horse. “My name is Jensen Winchester. What’s yours?” he asked, sticking out his hand, presumably to shake.

But Harry had been caught so off guard with the man suddenly jumping off his horse that he took a frightened step backwards and ended up tripping over an exposed tree root in the ground. He landed hard on his back and the air was suddenly sucked from his lungs. The man was bending over him and all Harry could do was lay there, unable to defend himself. He knew there must have been fear in his eyes though, or something, because the man took a less threatening stance and knelt down beside him, gently laying a hand on Harry’s knee.

“Are you ok?” he asked. He could tell the man was about to help him to his feet when a low growling noise sounded directly behind Harry’s head. He tried to glance backwards, knowing precisely what it was making that noise, but his breath had yet to return and his limbs seemed even more uncooperative than usual. Zane stepped up and placed his intimidating form directly over Harry’s prone one, forcing the man to back away or get his hand bit off.

“Whoa there!” said Jensen softly, his hands raised as if in placation, and Harry finally managed to suck in a breath full of air.

“Zane! Down!” he demanded, and the Rottweiler reluctantly stood down from his defensive pose over Harry’s small body. Jensen warily approached Harry and offered his hand once more. Harry took it and he was easily pulled to his feet. “Sorry about that, he gets really protective.”

The older man nodded and watched carefully as Harry’s dog took his position right beside the teen, still looking intimidating even after Harry had told him to back off. “That’s some dog there, kid.”

Harry shrugged. He was actually very relieved Zane had been there with him, otherwise things could have turned out a lot worse. He might have gone into a full-blown panic attack if he’d not been there. He understood now what Draco had meant when he said Zane had been downright frightening the night he’d gone into defensive mode over Harry at the Manor. It was actually a very nice feeling.

“My name is Harry,” said the teen, finally feeling safe enough to hold out his own hand to offer the handshake. He realized Jensen was very tall. He had to look up just to meet his eyes. It had been difficult to tell before, considering he’d been on a horse and then crouched down beside him, but the man was probably taller than his own father, who he knew was at least six feet tall. This guy was probably every bit of 6’3”. It left him feeling a little intimidated again, but Zane’s protective presence at his side stayed that feeling.

Jensen took the boy’s hand and shook it gently in his large hand, as if worried he’d recoil from the touch. Harry wondered if the man knew how he was feeling right now, somehow. It just seemed to make sense. The dark haired man, Harry figured he was at least in his mid twenties, was acting like he knew exactly how frightened Harry was and had been feeling. That in itself was a bit disconcerting. “Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked softly.

Harry nodded his head at the man, having to look up to meet the man’s eyes. He realized he only came up to Jensen’s chest and was feeling extremely short at the moment. “Do you need me to give you a ride home?” asked the man, looking towards where Snape’s Manor would be. This made Harry frightened.

“How do you know where I live?” he asked cautiously. This could be some kind of trick, for all he knew.

“Well, there are only two Manor homes in this area. Mine and Snape Manor. I’ve never met the guy myself, but if you don’t live there, I don’t know where you possibly could have come from.”

Harry’s irrational fear left him then and he nodded. “I do live there.”

“Aha. I assumed as much. So, do you think you’ll need a ride home? You look a little bit shaky to me,” Jensen offered cautiously. “If you don’t, that’s fine. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh…I’m fine,” explained Harry, glancing towards the path that led to Snape Manor. “It’s not that far of a walk.”

“It is if you’ve just been scared out of your wits and had the breath knocked out of you. I really am sorry I gave you such a fright. I honestly didn’t mean to startle you,” he said sincerely, and Harry couldn’t help but give the man a small smile.

“It’s really all right, but thanks for offering the ride home. I think I can manage walking, though.”

Jensen Winchester was nice enough, but he still couldn’t just automatically trust him. That would be way too stupid, even for Harry. Harry had been so concerned with talking to the man that he didn’t even notice until there was a cold nose sniffing at his face that Jensen’s horse had walked right up to him.

“He likes you,” said the dark haired man. Harry thought he looked surprised. “He doesn’t like anyone.”

And apparently the surprise was for good reason. Harry carefully brought his hand up and brushed his hand down the side of the horse’s face. “He’s soft.”

Jensen wasn’t even paying attention to Harry, he realized. “I can’t believe he’s letting you touch him,” he said in awe.

Harry wasn’t sure what the man was so interested in, so what if the big horse was letting him touch him. It wasn’t that big of a deal.

“Why wouldn’t he?” asked Harry, a little bit curious about it.

Jensen gave Harry a sad look then. “His last owner was abusive. It took me a very long time to get him used to my touch. That’s why I was so surprised he came over to you willingly, let alone let you pet him.”

Harry stared at the horse sadly. He knew all too well what that was like. “What’s his name?” he asked softly, his hand still stroking down his mane carefully.

“Jupiter.”

The slight nod of Harry’s head was hardly visible as he brought his mouth closer to the horse’s ear. “I’m sorry Jupiter,” he whispered. Harry suddenly knew he would have to see this horse more often. He was so beautiful and it was odd, because Harry was pretty sure Jupiter knew what he was going through…that he understood. “Can I come and visit Jupiter?” he asked softly.

Jensen smiled. “He’d love for you to come out,” he said softly in reply. “I think you’d do him some good, actually.”

Harry smiled at Jupiter and ran his hand once more down the silky mane. “I’ll see you later.” Harry waited until Jensen and Jupiter were well out of sight before starting home himself. He sighed deeply as he walked down the path. Just talking to a horse had made him feel better. He wondered why that was.

The light had been fading slowly around him and Harry realized with a start that he was getting back home later than he had anticipated. He worried that he’d be in trouble and picked up the pace. Passing the lake by in a run, he started towards the back veranda. He had barely stepped foot onto the patio when the doors came flying open and his father stepped out.

“Where have you been!”