“How long has he been this way?”

Severus sighed while lacing his fingers together as his worry grew. “He hasn’t slept well for a little over a week,” he began, before standing from his seated position and pacing the floor. “I’ve tried to speak with him about it, but he refuses to talk about them.”

“Do you know what the nightmares are about?” asked Remus, finally taking part in the conversation. He’d been listening to Severus talk about Harry and had grown increasingly worried as well. The boy shouldn’t be suffering as he was. What could possibly trigger such horrifying dreams that the teen couldn’t even get a decent night’s sleep?

“I believe our encounter with Vernon Dursley at the train station has triggered them,” stated Severus.

Sirius swore. “I never even thought of that,” he said, sounding irate, but at himself. “What kind of godfather am I?”

“Honestly, Black, it didn’t occur to me until last night that he was having those kind of nightmares. I should have realized it sooner as well. It’s redundant to go off blaming ourselves for something we couldn’t have foreseen. Now, we need to help Harry. He’s not sleeping, he’s exhausted, and he’s wearing himself thin. I’m worried that if something isn’t done soon, he could accidentally hurt himself,” he said quietly. “We had a close call this morning. There was an accident on the Quidditch Pitch…”

Sirius cut him off before he could finish. “What? What kind of accident. Why didn’t you contact me?” he asked, furious. Remus put a restraining hand on his friend’s shoulder.

Severus merely raised his brow at him, waiting for him to calm down. “Will you allow me to finish now?” he asked as if Sirius were a two year old and not a grown man.

Sirius bristled, but a quick jab from Remus in the ribs cut his retort short. “Fine, what happened,” he said, glaring.

“He was hit in the shoulder by a bludger. There was minimal damage and he was healed as soon as I was able to get him back inside. I do apologize for not contacting you sooner, but I had to speak with my son first. Obviously, he holds precedence over you.” Severus’ words were sharp and Sirius looked down guiltily.

“I didn’t mean for you to drop what you were doing with Harry and come contact me immediately…” he trailed off, not sure what he meant. He was fairly sure he had just felt a little jealous, of all things, that Snape had been there for Harry while he hadn’t. He shoved those thoughts down deep inside of himself, focusing on his promise to Harry. He would not get into a fight with his new father.

Severus nodded, letting it go. “Well, now that you know the situation, I’ll start with why I brought you here,” he began slowly, almost as if he was doing this against his better judgment. “I felt it prudent that the three of us get together and discuss some possibilities of getting Harry to talk about his nightmares. I realize there are some incidents in Harry’s past that he has not spoken to me about. Not that I want to betray his trust, but I believe whatever has happened while he lived with the Dursley’s is a factor relating to his nightmares. In fact, his past experiences are very likely the nightmares themselves. With that said, is there anything about his past that you know that I do not?” he asked, pushing down his guilt in going behind his son’s back. But, there was nothing to be done for it. He had to know in order to help him.

Remus and Sirius looked at each other for a long while, making Snape’s anxiety grow. Did they know more about Harry’s past than he did? And if so, what could possibly have happened?

Finally, Remus looked away from Black and locked eyes with Severus. “I’m not sure if we know much more than you do…but before we go into it, why don’t you tell us what all you know?” he asked.

Severus was a little annoyed that they wouldn’t just go right out and say what they knew, Harry was his son for Merlin’s sake! He wouldn’t even ask about it if it weren’t so damn important.

Taking a calming breath, Severus told them as much as he knew about his son’s past. “After I took him from his Uncle at King’s Cross station last summer, I noticed there were some fresh bruises on his body. He’s told me about living in some cupboard for the first eleven years of his life,” he paused here, wondering if they knew this detail. Neither looked surprised, so he continued. “Anytime I attempted to get him to talk about the Dursley’s, he would shutdown after divulging the most miniscule amount of information. It’s obvious his life before Hogwarts was difficult; if only by the way he reacts sometimes. Before, he used to flinch incessantly at the smallest movement, and now that he’s sleep deprived, he has begun to act insecure once more.”

Black and Lupin both nodded, as if they knew all this information as well. “He hasn’t said much, has he?” asked Remus, looking torn.

“No, he hasn’t. Just that the Dursley’s treated him as if he was worthless, the bastards,” he said in disgust.

The two men were more than inclined to agree with him. “Everything you just told us, we already knew, to an extent,” Sirius paused, looking at his friend as if for advice. Remus nodded his head. Sirius sighed. “There’s only one incident that he’s ever told me about, and afterwards, I talked to Remus about it, which is why he also knows,” Black waved off Snape’s look of indignation on Harry’s part. “I had to talk to someone about it, but Harry had sworn me to secrecy. I knew he’d never forgive me if I told Albus, so I went to Remus instead, knowing if I swore him to secrecy, he’d never break it. But, this is beside the point,” a few wild hand gestures told the other two to stop asking him questions and giving him dirty looks so he could just tell his story.

“What happened, then?” asked Severus, sitting forward in his chair, all of his attention focused on the man he used to despise, but for Harry’s sake, had tried not to.

Sirius took a deep breath, as if the telling of this particular memory would be a difficult one to tell. “It was during Harry’s fourth year. Sometimes we would get together and talk via the fireplace in his common room. I would wait for the room to clear before putting my head through to talk to him. One night, after everyone had left, I saw Harry had already fallen asleep on the couch waiting for me. He had seemed so exhausted in the weeks prior that I didn’t want to wake him. I was about to leave when I saw him start to toss and turn, like he was having a bad dream. I tried to wake him up from the fireplace, calling out his name quietly. I didn’t want to get too loud, afraid someone would hear me.”

He stopped talking, swallowing dryly. Remus conjured a tea set, offering a drink to his companions. Sirius immediately took him up on the offer, and as the warm liquid eased his parched throat, he also felt a bit calmer. Remus wasn’t normally the type to spike a persons' beverage with a calming potion, but more power to him, as he now felt more able to finish his tale.

Sirius quietly started talking again after taking another long drink of his tea. “When his movements became more erratic, I forgot how much trouble I could get into if caught, and stepped out of the fireplace. Harry had been tossing back and forth, and had started to whimper…then he brought his hands up to his face, as if protecting himself from a blow. In hindsight, I realize I should have been more careful when I tried to wake him up, but he was growing so panicked, all I wanted to do was wake him and end his nightmare…” he had trailed off, almost as if lost in the memory of it. Severus waved his hand in the man’s face impatiently. Sirius blinked repeatedly. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

Severus was growing more and more concerned just from the way Black was reacting to this experience he’d witnessed from Harry. Finally, the man was able to regain his senses. “Well, I grabbed his arms and shook him. He came up off the couch screaming. I grabbed his wand and cast a silencing spell. Thankfully, no one heard, or at least no one came down. And then Harry just kept slapping and hitting me, trying to get out of my arms, and he was crying. I had never seen that kid cry. It took me forever to calm him down.”

“He reacted the same way with me once, when waking up from a nightmare. Only, he punched me in the face,” said Severus, remembering that night while still on the Island, searching for the Orb. Despite the serious conversation, Black found it in himself to grin at the image of Harry punching Snape in the face. Severus scowled. “I held his arms down, much like you did, only at the time he was still suffering from bruises from both his Uncle and Jeb Corwin,” he said coldly, causing the grin to slide off Sirius’ face. “Obviously, restraint is never to be considered when dealing with Harry, I learned that straight away. So, it goes to say forcing him to talk about his nightmares will also be out of the question.”

Black paused then, looking ashamed. “I made him talk about the nightmare I witnessed him having,” he threw his hands up to stall Snape from yelling obscenities at him. “Just wait a minute, all right? I didn’t exactly force him, but I at least coerced him into it. He was still disoriented from the nightmare, but he told me what he’d been dreaming about.”

Snape calmed down just slightly after that, but was not thrilled about the measures Black had taken to get his son to talk. Of course, Harry hadn’t been his son at the time, but just remembering how upset Harry could get after nightmares, he deeply resented the man for taking advantage of Harry’s emotional state. Severus sighed, knowing there was nothing he could do for it now, it was already done.

“Well, what happened in this dream?” he asked, suddenly remembering about a dream Harry had told him about while they were on the Island. It seemed so long ago, yet it had only been during last summer that he had started to get to know the boy and begin to care for him. The dream he’d spoken of hadn’t been pleasant, to say the least. He noticed neither man was speaking and looked up only to realize they were staring at him. “Excuse me, I was just thinking about something Harry told me last summer. Please, continue.”

Both Sirius and Remus looked curious about just what Harry had supposedly told him, but Black continued with his version of the story anyways. “He really didn’t tell me much, just that his dream had been a memory of his Uncle taking his cousin’s Smelting stick to him after dropping a plate on the floor and breaking it. He clammed up after that, wouldn’t tell me what happened afterwards. I was finally able to get him back to sleep, but I kept checking on him periodically throughout the night through the fireplace. What about you? Has he told you about any of his nightmares?” he asked, wondering if that wasn’t what he’d been talking about just a moment ago.

Nodding, Severus told them about how Harry’s uncle used to give him baths when he was young. When he told them about Vernon keeping the water either scorchingly hot or freezing cold and forcing Harry to stay in, they both looked infuriated. Severus remembered how angry he had been when his son had told him that particular memory.

Standing up from his seat, Sirius paced the floor angrily. Remus once more placed a calming hand on his friend’s shoulder, trying to calm him down. They had more important things to discuss, even if he too was still reeling inside from realizing how horrible Harry had been treated as a child, and how much they still didn’t know, and might never know.

Not knowing how to approach his son without upsetting him, Severus looked to the two men sitting with him. Together, surely they could come up with some way to help his child. Although, the discussion they would be having would be upsetting no matter what. Being calm and open about the matter would be about the only way, letting the boy know he could tell them anything and they wouldn’t think any less of him. It was obvious that all three of them loved the boy more than life itself. Things would work out.

They were discussing possibly scenarios when he heard a noise from upstairs. Glancing up, Severus saw Harry starting to descend the stairs tiredly. The Dreamless Sleep must have finally worn off. Harry stopped halfway down the steps when he felt himself being watched.

“Sirius, Remus, what are you doing here?” he asked, his voice even sounded exhausted. Apparently, the few hours of sleep he’d gotten peacefully still hadn’t been enough to make up for all that he’d done without.

“We came to see you,” stated Sirius as if it should have been obvious. It wasn’t as if they’d come to see Snape, when in reality they kind of had.

“Oh,” Harry slowly trudged the rest of the way down the steps before finding an empty chair in the living room and collapsing bonelessly into it. The three men in the room shared a concerned look over Harry’s head as Severus stood up and offered his son a cup of tea. He took the cup offered to him, taking a deep drink. Putting the cup down on the end table beside his chair, Harry stiffened slightly as the muscles pulled in his shoulder. Even though it had been healed, it still felt extremely sore.

”Are you all right?” Severus had noticed the grimace on his son’s face but couldn’t fathom why he would be in pain.

“My shoulder, it still hurts a bit,” Harry said quietly, eyeing his father. Severus couldn’t help but feel as if Harry was worried he’d get upset with him for complaining. He sighed as he knelt down beside him.

“Let me take a look?” he asked. Remus came closer then, in case his help was needed. He had more healing skills than Sirius, but less than Snape. As Harry pulled his shirt off, the bruise still adorning the boy’s shoulder took him aback.

“What? I thought you healed him,” exclaimed Sirius, standing up and looking explosive. “Why did you leave that on him?”

It was obvious Sirius was outraged, and Harry even flinched at his tone. “Sorry, kiddo,” he said slowly when he noticed his godson had been startled.

“That’s okay,” he said, frowning at his godfather’s reaction. Severus was glaring at the man, all the while poking and prodding Harry’s sore shoulder. “Ouch, Dad!” exclaimed Harry, yanking his arm away from him.

“Harry, I have to examine it!” he said, his temper getting away from him due to Black’s unreasonable behavior. He distinctly remembered putting the healing salve on the boy’s shoulder. How dare he assume he would allow his son to suffer with a bruise such as this! Though, he calmed slightly when he saw Harry was watching him warily. “Please, child, I need to look it over to find out why the salve didn’t work the way it was supposed to,” he said calmly.

Harry seemed to debate his options before realizing it would be in his best interests to let his father do what he wanted. Besides, the sooner he got this over with, the sooner his bruise would be healed, hopefully. He offered his arm to his father and turned his head away. Immediately, Severus started examining his shoulder and Harry grimaced.

Feeling it would be better if Harry were distracted, Remus knelt down beside his chair, gaining the boy’s attention. “I heard you had an accident this morning?” he asked, wondering if it was the best topic to keep him sidetracked.

Harry nodded, but didn’t go any further into the subject. Remus sat quietly for a minute, hoping Harry would say something. He was about to give up and switch to another less awkward conversation when finally his waiting paid off.

“One of the bludgers hit me in the shoulder,” he offered, and flinched as Severus touched on a particularly sore spot on his shoulder. Severus patted his chest in a reassuring gesture before his attention was once more on the task at hand. He had actually discovered what the problem was, but had delayed in saying anything in the hopes that Lupin would be able to pry something out of his son. It was worth the effort, at least. Sirius still seemed displeased with Snape, but was watching Remus and Harry expectantly as well.

“It looks painful,” remarked Remus, indicating with his hand towards Harry’s arm.

Harry snorted. “You have no idea.”

Severus momentarily considered going ahead and healing the bruise when Harry started speaking again. He couldn’t let this opportunity go to waste, even if Harry had to go a little longer with a bruised shoulder. It was well worth the sacrifice, in his opinion, if only Harry would just open up about his never-ending nightmares.

“I can’t believe I didn’t even see it coming,” he said distractedly. Remus instantly perked up at what the teen had said. He noticed Sirius and Severus were paying close attention as well.

“Why do you think that was?” he asked nonchalantly, as if this wasn’t the most important part of the puzzle if they could only get Harry to say it.

Harry shrugged with a deep look of contemplation on his face. “I must have been tired,” he said off-handedly.

Remus took a chance and asked the question he’d wanted to ask all afternoon. “Have you not been sleeping very well?” he asked. He tried to keep from sounding eager or worried and hoped he’d succeeded.

“Not really,” replied Harry. It was obvious Harry wasn’t paying much attention to their conversation, and more on the pain dwelling in his shoulder. It was making it possible for Harry to talk, but Lupin wished it wasn’t the pain that was causing the boy’s tongue to be so free in it’s words. Harry would be terribly upset when he realized what he’d been saying. Then again, it might be just the thing to ease the emotional pain the boy must be feeling, to finally talk about it. Remus hoped that was true.

“Bad dreams?” he asked.

“Yeah,” he said, still distracted, but then he looked at Remus and his green eyes widened perceptibly. It was discernible that he was running the conversation they’d just had through his mind. “Wait…” he turned his eyes on his father questioningly. “You told them!” he yelled.

Severus raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Harry, you’re not sleeping, you’re exhausted, and you were injured just this morning because you were too fatigued to notice a bludger racing towards your body. I felt I had no other choice but to ask for your godfather’s and Lupin’s assistance. Wouldn’t you do the same if someone you deeply cared about was suffering?” he asked.

Harry still looked infuriated but obviously couldn’t come up with something to contradict his father’s words, for honestly, he would do anything in his power to help someone he loved, even if he went behind their back and asked for help. But he still couldn’t bring himself to look at the man before him. “You shouldn’t have told,” he said lamely.

“I had to do something,” Severus replied softly.

“Won’t you tell us what’s going on in these dreams of yours, Harry?” asked Sirius, pleading with the boy.

Harry shook his head violently. “No!” he yelled, attempting to jump up from the chair, but Severus wouldn’t allow it.

“Harry, please, you need to talk about it. Just look at yourself, you’ve stopped eating and sleeping, unless you’re under the influence of Dreamless Sleep. You won’t talk to anyone, it’s not healthy!” he exclaimed, desperately fighting against the boy to keep him in the chair. “Stop this!” he finally yelled when Harry nearly punched him in the head.

Instead of going still, as all three men had expected, Harry knocked Severus back and shot up out of the seat. “Go to Hell!” he screamed, tearing up the stairs. A moment later a slamming door resonated throughout the entire Manor.

“That went well,” remarked Sirius sarcastically.

Severus glared at him, daring him to say more. Black wisely kept his mouth shut, knowing he’d be dead twice over if looks alone could kill.

“I’m going up there,” Snape slowly stood up from his still kneeling position and headed for the open doorway.

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” started Remus. “Maybe you should give him a moment to calm down?” he suggested.

“No, I don’t care what the situation is, there is no reason for him to be acting out with such behavior. We’re only trying to help him and he throws a massive fit!” he stormed, walking out of the room. “And besides, he only normally acts like a brat when he wants you to do something,” he said.

Sirius and Remus gazed at each other. It was odd, knowing your worst enemy knew more about their now deceased best friend’s son than they did. The two men followed Snape up the stairs and were able to witness him standing outside Harry’s room.

“He’s not here,” he said, turning to the two.

Remus gazed at the door-less entry way and recalled hearing a door slam. “A door shut, so he must be in one of these other rooms,” he said, looking downcast at all the other rooms just on this floor. What if he’d gone into a room on the third floor? It would take forever to find him.

Severus was looking at the ceiling above them thoughtfully. “I believe I know where he is, then.” They followed behind him, not knowing where he was going.

He took his time going upstairs, already knowing where his son would be. He loved the terrace outside of the Library, where he himself had watched Harry fall just that morning. There was something peaceful about it that seemed to draw the boy to it whenever he was feeling upset or just needed to think. Now would be a time he would go sit on the terrace and he wasn’t surprised when he found him there.

“Harry?” he asked quietly, walking up behind him and slowly placing his hands on his shoulders. Harry flinched, and he berated himself for letting the boy’s shoulder go for as long as he had. He’d almost forgotten about it. Pulling the salve out of his pocket, he handed it to his son. “Here, put this on your shoulder.”

Harry looked at him questioningly. “Doesn’t it need to be made with a higher potency?” he asked, considering it hadn’t correctly healed the last time.

“No, not necessarily. The bruise had just gone deeper into your skin than I had anticipated. A few extra applications of the salve should right the problem,” he answered, letting Harry lead the exchange for now.

“Oh, I guess that makes sense, then,” he said, staring straight ahead. “Sorry I yelled at you,” he suddenly spoke, though quietly.

“And cursed,” remarked Severus, for Harry knew bad language wasn’t allowed in their home. The boy flushed perceptibly as he realized just what he had said and done downstairs.

“I didn’t mean to,” he said, finally turning to meet Snape’s eyes. He looked momentarily frightened, as if Severus would strike him or some other such nonsense.

Sighing, wishing Harry had never been forced to stay with his awful relatives; he gently pulled the boy into his arms. “I know you didn’t. Sometimes it helps to yell a bit, I suppose.”

Harry grinned into his father’s shoulder, for Severus used to yell all the time before he’d really gotten to know him. “Yeah, I guess.”

Eventually, the older man released Harry and sat back on his heels. The two sat silently as if contemplating the other. “You want me to talk about my nightmares,” said Harry. It was a statement, not a question.

“Yes, I think you should.”

“What if I can’t?” he asked.

“Can’t, as in you won’t?” Severus asked, thinking the boy would refuse.

“No, can’t as in the words won’t come out of my mouth, even if I want them to,” he said slowly, a look of deep fear in his eyes.

‘What are you keeping to yourself, Harry?’ wondered Severus. How bad could his memories be? He feared he would soon find out.

“Why don’t you try?” he asked softly. He sat down beside the boy, on the floor no less, but with enough distance so that Harry wouldn’t feel crowded. If he wanted to come closer, he’d leave it up to him.

For a moment, Harry remained utterly silent and still. Severus was almost certain his son wouldn’t speak of it, that he was incapable. But, finally, he opened his mouth, and the words were able to come out.

“When I was younger, I thought it was normal to be treated like that. It didn’t really occur to me until I was a bit older that Dudley wasn’t treated the same way, and when I finally was allowed at school, I realized something was wrong. I actually asked my Aunt about it one night before she sent me to my cupboard, and she slapped me, hard, across the face. She told me not to ask questions, but then she said my parents should have known better than to get themselves killed, that they’d brought the entire thing upon themselves. And thereby they sentenced me to a life with them, because I was worthless and nobody cared about me. Otherwise, why hadn’t someone come to check? I believed her.”

Although he was raging on the inside, Severus tried very hard to keep his angry emotions to himself. He felt that would be very detrimental to Harry if he were to explode over just this. For he was almost positive it would only get worse, if the boy continued at all. Instinctively, he placed a comforting hand over Harry’s and squeezed. It seemed to be just the thing he needed, because in the next instant, Harry was talking again.

“When I started going to Hogwarts, they treated me a little better, you know, by moving me into Dudley’s second bedroom and generally not smacking me around as much as before. I think they were afraid I’d tell, but I never did. I thought I deserved it,” he said softly.

Severus, even though he knew it could be a bad move, closed in on the space between himself and his son and draped an arm around his shoulders. He felt Harry tense for just a moment before relaxing into Severus’ side. “You deserved no such thing,” he gently admonished the boy. Harry deserved nothing less than love from his family, something he was adamantly denied his entire time living with them. Something Severus intended to dish out in ample amounts.

“Then why did they do that to me?” he asked, his voice nearly breaking towards the end. “Why did they hate me so much?”

He pulled Harry closer to him and wrapped his other arm around him in a hug. On the verge of saying something he hoped would be inspiring, he stopped as he felt wetness on his shoulder. “Harry?” he asked, trying to lean away to look at his son’s face, but Harry refused to let go and proceeded to bury his face even further into his shoulder, not allowing Severus to see him.

“I hate them,” Harry suddenly blurted into his shoulder, causing Snape to actually tense, it was spoken with such venom. “They never even treated me like I was a human being, just something they could use and discard whenever they felt like it. I was nothing more than their slave. And they hurt me, they hurt me so much. Why? Why would they do that? I never did anything to them. But they acted like anything that ever went wrong in their lives was my fault, and they would hurt me because of it,” he whispered, still obscuring his face from view in his father’s shoulder.

“How would they hurt you?” asked Severus, somehow not wanting to know what they did to him, and another part of him wanting to know all the details. It infuriated him that Vernon Dursley was still alive. Somehow it didn’t seem fair that out of all of them, he was the one who continued to live, as if mocking Harry and his pain.

Harry stiffened against his side at the question. “I…h-he h-hit me,” he said jerkily. Then it all came tumbling out, as if the boy had kept it all deep inside of him for so long he could no longer contain it and all the horrifying memories that went with it. Suddenly, the boy stood up and began pacing the terrace, but refused to make eye contact with his father, rather watching the floor as he paced.

“They were all horrible to me, they made me go days without food and water, all the while I was locked in the cupboard. They’d take away the light bulb too, forcing me to sit in the dark while I heard them all in the kitchen acting as if I didn’t even exist. They wouldn’t let me out to go to the bathroom, and if I had a-an accident, he’d d-drag me out and start beating me. And I couldn’t even help it, or stop them from doing it. I had an endless list of chores to do, and if I didn’t finish them, which was almost all the time, h-he’d start smacking me around a-again.”

Harry was growing more and more distressed as he told of his abuse by his family, and Severus wanted nothing more than to wrap him in his arms and take all the pain on himself. But, Harry needed to do this, to get all of it off his chest, even if it killed Severus just by watching it.

Harry stopped in the middle of the terrace, just staring at the floor. “Am I a freak?” he asked suddenly, startling the older man out of his horrified musings.

“What? Absolutely not!” he exclaimed, wishing Dursley would drop dead wherever he was.

“You want me, right?” he asked despondently. “You d-don’t think I’m w-worthless?” he asked, a lone tear sliding down his cheek.

Severus threw caution to the wind and immediately enveloped his son in his strong arms, holding him tight against his chest. “Merlin, Harry, of course I want you. I love you as if you were my true son. And you’re not worthless, never have you been, nor will you ever be,” he said adamantly, pulling the boy even tighter against him and patting his hair gently. “Never think that.”

Harry nodded his head against Severus’ chest.

Noticing movement just beyond the curtained veranda doors leading into the library, Severus focused his black eyes on the two men standing there looking distinctly horrified. He could see just from their eyes that they wanted to comfort Harry as well, but didn’t think Harry would allow it. They came onto the veranda just the same, each placing a hand on the boy’s shoulders.

Harry flinched momentarily, but allowed the touch once he realized whom the hands belonged to. Eventually, Harry pulled away from all of them, and straightened his clothes. It was plain to see that he was trying to act as if nothing had happened.

“Are you okay?” asked Remus.

Harry glanced at him, then at his father. “I’m better,” he said, glancing back down at the floor. “I’d never told anybody all of that before. I-I guess I needed to get it all out in the open,” shrugging his shoulders, he finally lifted his head to the people he cared about. “Thanks for listening.”

Before any of them could say a word, Harry slowly walked out the veranda doors and left the library. Severus stopped Sirius from following him, figuring the boy needed some time alone to figure things out.

…………………………….

Harry sat on his bed feeling as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He was glad he’d talked about his past; it had really helped him to deal with it. And when his father had held him, it was as if everything that had happened to him didn’t matter anymore. Not that he’d never think about it again, but it certainly helped him to remember that at least his father loved him unconditionally. And the rest of his friends cared more than his relatives ever did.

Grabbing a piece of parchment and a quill from a shelf, Harry sat down at his desk to compose a letter to Ron. He wanted to see him, and maybe even visit with the rest of his family. He missed them a lot. Just as he’d started writing the first line, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, through the window. He recognized the owl as soon as it landed. It was Draco’s owl.

He opened the window and let her in. She flew over to Hedwig’s stand and lifted her leg for Harry to take the letter. He immediately ripped it open, as he hadn’t spoken to his Slytherin friend since school had ended. He quickly read over the letter before setting it down on the desk. Draco seemed almost depressed in his letter, but it was almost as if he was covering it up. A million different ideas were traveling through his mind as to what could be wrong with his friend, but none of them came close to the truth. He decided he’d definitely go and visit him tomorrow, even if he wasn’t expecting him. Something was just off and he was bound and determined to find out what it was.