Harry gasped, sitting up in bed, breathing shallowly as he looked around his bedroom, looking for something that wasn’t there. He drew in a shuddering breath, and then released it once he realized where he was. He was home, safe, and definitely not at the Dursley’s. His eyes grew dull and he dropped his head into his hands, bringing his knees up to his chest. He’d been having the same nightmare for a good couple of days, ever since they’d run into his Uncle at King’s Cross. It just wouldn’t stop, the nightmares kept continuing, even with Harry knowing the man couldn’t get to him here. He knew he was safe, yet he was still scared.

Glancing at the clock on his bedside table, Harry frowned, knowing he’d never get back to sleep. And it was still so early. If he had to have these damn nightmares, why couldn’t they happen closer to morning? It was just after three a.m. and Harry knew getting anymore sleep tonight would be futile. The dreams would return, as they always did, and he’d rather not deal with them if at all possible. Sleeping was becoming a chore to him now, as much as he needed it.

There was nothing for him to do, and as much as he wouldn’t mind going down to the kitchen for a late night snack, he couldn’t risk waking his father. And besides which, Cella, their house-elf, would become infinitely concerned and feel it her duty to tell her master. She was a good house-elf, and Harry cared for her, but she could be a pain sometimes, especially when it came to Harry’s nocturnal habits.

In so being, there was no other choice but for Harry to remain in his room. And, even though those shadows in the corner played havoc on his imagination, he couldn’t risk turning on the light. Instead, he sat on his bed and read a few Quidditch books by the meager light of his wand until the early morning hours, at which point he felt it safe to venture from his room.

Two hours later, Harry finally was sitting in the dining room, eating a healthy breakfast prepared by Cella, and attempting to read the Daily Prophet. Nothing very interesting was contained within the paper, and he discarded it on the table. Upon looking up, he saw that his father was just coming down the stairs, walking towards him.

“Good morning, Harry,” he said, sitting down across from him. Cella was instantly at his side, setting plate upon plate of food in front of him.

“Morning,” whispered Harry, extremely tired after a sleepless night. Many sleepless nights, in fact.

Severus looked up at him, concerned. “Are you quite well? You look exhausted.”

Harry hadn’t been telling his father about his dreams; he didn’t want to come off as a big baby on their first week together, nor did he wish to disappoint the man. Besides, he felt he could handle his nightmares on his own. They were beginning to take a toll on him however, emotionally as well as physically, but he was certain they wouldn’t last for much longer and he could get on with his great new life. He just wished they would go away a little bit sooner.

“I woke up early and couldn’t get back to sleep,” he explained it away.

His father still eyed him uncertainly, making Harry hope he didn’t look as horrible as he felt. “You’re paler than normal and there are dark circles under your eyes. What time exactly did you wake up this morning?”

Harry frowned, how did the man see straight through his defenses and right to the truth of the matter? He still wouldn’t give in on the nightmares, those were his burden to bear, not his father’s.

“So, I woke up a little early. I’ve just been excited is all. You know, I’ve been looking forward to spending my summer with you since I was adopted.” It was the truth, he had been excited about this, getting to spend time with his family, not having to go back to his relatives. Having his friends come over for the first time ever. It was a lot to be excited about, especially for someone who’d never experienced it before. And Severus felt inclined to believe him.

“Yes, I suppose you would be excited about it. All this is new to you and you haven’t fully developed to it all. I suppose that would cause a lack of sleep, but let’s try and limit that, shall we? I can always give you a relaxing draught before bed, if you feel you need it. Perhaps then you’d sleep the night through.”

A relaxing draught was the last thing he needed. He’d never be able to wake up with one of those in his system, and Severus would hear his screams for sure. He wasn’t allowed silencing charms on his room, and his father would know if he did. He’d become very proficient at waking up before a sound even escaped his lips. Quite handy, really. But, a relaxing charm, he wouldn’t be able to fight the affects of his nightmares. “No, I think I’ll be fine without them. And today, Ron and Hermione are coming over. Ron’s been wanting to play Quidditch, and I’m sure after a few games of that I’ll be ready for a good, long nap,” he said jokingly, yet seriously. “Thanks anyways.”

“If you feel you need one at anytime, all you need do is ask,” he told Harry, grasping the Daily Prophet from where Harry had laid it and began perusing through it.

Harry sighed with relief, having successfully managed to dodge another bullet. He felt absolutely awful lying to his father, but it was for the best. He needn’t ever know.

……………………….

Rushing up to his room, Harry made his bed and tidied up his room so it wouldn’t look so messy. It hadn’t really been all that untidy, but he was so used to keeping his room clean, that it was hard not to stick to old habits. Afterwards, he quickly took a shower and got ready for the day. Ron and Hermione weren’t coming over until the afternoon, and he had plenty of time to clean up before they arrived.

As he was removing a few schoolbooks from his trunk, Cella came in, looking startled.

“Master Harry! I’s can do that…you, go, shoo!” she exclaimed, trying to force the boy out of his room.

“Cella!” he yelled, picking her up and setting her on his bed. “I’m supposed to clean my room. Not you.”

The little elf shook her head vigorously. “No, no, young one, Cella’s job!” she was adamant and refused to back down. “Master Harry’s friends to be here soon, go wait for them downstairs! I’s will clean the room!”

Harry didn’t know what to do. Severus had distinctly said cleaning his room was up to him. He couldn’t just let the house-elf do all of his work, it wouldn’t be fair, but he couldn’t hurt her feelings either. But what if his father found out Cella was cleaning his room for him? Would he get in trouble? There was only one thing to do; he had to go speak with him. Otherwise, he wouldn’t feel right, and he didn’t want to be confused on his duties in the household.

“Dad?” he called. No one was in the dining room, the table had been cleared and was waiting patiently for the next meal.

“I’m in the study, Harry!” yelled a voice from down the hall. Harry nodded, even though his father couldn’t see him, and walked down the corridor to his father’s study. If only his father would put a weightless charm on these doors. It took all of his strength to open one massive oak door, and normally his back was left feeling strained. “What did you need?” Severus was sitting at his desk filling out some kind of paperwork. Harry didn’t ask what it was; he knew it was none of his business.

“Cella keeps trying to clean my room, and even when I tell her it’s my job, she won’t stop. I don’t want her to get in trouble or anything, but could you tell her she doesn’t have to do it? She won’t listen to me, and I don’t want you to think I’m letting Cella do all my chores,” he said quickly, twisting his fingers in the bottom of his t-shirt, trying not to look as nervous as he felt.

Severus sat at his desk and stared at the boy. This made Harry even more uneasy. “I was doing it myself, I really was. I wasn’t disobeying you,” he tried to explain, but his father stood up and motioned at Harry, effectively shutting him up.

“Harry, it’s fine, calm down. I know how Cella can be, she’s very demanding and headstrong. She’s always done all the work around here, and she gets paid. She thinks you shouldn’t have to do your chores. But, I’ll speak with her about this,” he paused then, looking at Harry seriously. Harry winced; he knew he was going to be in trouble for letting her do them in the first place! “Child, you’re going to pass out if you don’t take a breath!”

Harry gasped, not realizing he’d been holding his breath.

Severus approached his son then, looking so concerned that Harry felt stupid for making such a big deal out of this. Maybe he wasn’t as mad as he thought he’d be. “What’s wrong, Harry?” he asked, taking Harry’s shoulders in his strong hands and squeezing lightly. “What’s going through your head?”

Was he that transparent? He tried to pull away from the hands on his shoulders, but the grip wouldn’t allow it. Sighing in resignation, Harry looked up at his father, bracing himself for the man’s reaction. But then, he wasn’t really sure what he was thinking. He was worried he would get in trouble for not doing his part around the Manor, and worried he’d get Cella in trouble for telling Severus she’d been doing his chores. But, he didn’t want either of them to get in trouble and didn’t want to appear like a tattletale either. He just wanted this summer vacation to be perfect, he wouldn’t be able to stand it if his father grew disappointed in him, or worse yet, grew to realize he was an inconvenience and want rid of him, like his relatives had. He couldn’t help it, he still had these wandering thoughts that once Severus really got to spend some time with him, he’d see what the Dursley’s had seen. Severus had been adamant that he would never get rid of Harry, and yet the fear still remained.

How could he tell Severus this without frustrating the man? Harry glanced at the floor, refusing to meet his father’s eyes. This was so entirely embarrassing to say, he felt like a complete prat. “I just…I don’t want you to be disappointed in me,” he paused, looking across the room, before gathering his wits about him. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, what you expect me to do, and what I’m not allowed to do. I just don’t want to mess up,” he answered pathetically.

Severus gripped Harry’s shoulders a bit harder, but not so much that it actually hurt the boy. Harry fidgeted under his father’s dark gaze. The man seemed almost lost for words, making Harry shudder in fear. Oh hell, here it comes. He’s going to get rid of me. It was an irrational thought, he knew this, hell, he’d been having a lot of irrational thoughts lately, but he was literally terrified. How could he still be so insecure?

Severus seemed to be thinking the same thing, for he finally sighed exasperatedly and pulled the boy to his chest, holding him there with a hand against the back of Harry’s head. “Harry, you’re not messing anything up. I expect you to be yourself, to be a child, stop worrying so much. You’re entirely too serious approximately half the time you’re in my presence. If you happen to ‘mess up’, I won’t think any less of you for it, and would you like to know why?” he pulled back to look his son in his eyes, and Harry found himself feeling even more like an idiot. How could he have doubted the man for even a second?

“You love me.”

“That’s precisely the reason,” Severus hugged Harry to his chest once more before stepping away. “Is there anything else you would like to address while we’re getting everything out in the open?” he asked.

Harry had a moment where he was sincerely considering telling his father about his nightmares, but he still couldn’t bring himself to do it, even after their conversation. If he told Severus of his nightmares, the man would be constantly checking on him, putting a strain on his own much needed sleep to make sure Harry was actually getting his rest. He wouldn’t put his father out like that; it just wouldn’t be fair to the man. Unless they became unbearable, he wouldn’t mention them. His mind made up, Harry shook his head, indicating there was nothing left to talk about.

“Very well, it would be best if you waited in the parlor, Mr. Weasley should be here any moment now,” he said suddenly with a fleeting look at the mantel clock.

Harry took a look as well, shocked to discover so much time had passed while he’d been stressing over nothing.

……………………..

“This is your Quidditch pitch?” asked Ron once they’d stepped off the back patio and into the expansive back yard. The redhead stared in awe. “I wish I could have my own Quidditch pitch,” he said dreamily. “Let’s play!”

Harry laughed as his best friend sprinted across the lawn, his broom strewn over his shoulder, as he tried to beat the raven-haired teen to the pitch. Harry wasn’t even attempting to run, he walked amiably, and grinned when Ron made it to the pitch and Harry was still yards away. “Harry!” he yelled distantly. “Move your arse!”

“Alright, alright!” he broke into a jog and made it to his friend a few moments later. “You’re such a nag.”

Ron looked affronted. “I am not!” he dropped the trunk containing the Quidditch balls onto the ground and released the lid. “I’m just anxious to start, is all.”

“Why?” asked Harry, confused.

“I don’t get to stay all day, you know!” he said angrily. “Fred and George told me Mum said I couldn’t spend the night, due to a little incident at the beginning of summer vacation,” he said vaguely.

Harry was just a bit curious about this ‘little incident’, but moved on to more important things. “And why would you believe Fred and George?” he asked.

Ron stopped for a moment. “Before I left, Mum was talking to them. As they were walking back towards the house, I heard Mum yell at them to be sure to tell me. They proceeded to tell me I wasn’t allowed to stay over, that I should have considered the consequences before doing something so stupid. Mum was leaving with Ginny to go shopping, and I didn’t get the chance to argue. I was just thankful I got to come over at all,” he said slowly, looking at Harry closely. “Why?”

“I think they were pulling something on you,” said Harry, trying not to laugh at his friend’s expense. “Dad spoke to your Mum this morning. She’s even already sent a bag for you to spend the night. That’s probably what Fred and George were supposed to tell you, only they decided to mix it up a bit,” he said, smirking.

“What?” exclaimed Ron, beginning to realize he’d been had. “Those sodding little prats!”

Harry did laugh that time, wondering how Ron would expect anything less out of his twin brothers. “What the hell did you do that upset Fred and George so much they’d do that? Normally they get back at you with some prank.”

Ron remained silent, shaking his head. “I’ll tell you later,” he said sheepishly.

“Tell me now!” yelled Harry, pushing Ron gently in the shoulder. “You can’t keep something like this from me. Spill!”

Shaking his head adamantly, Ron mounted his broom and raced into the air. “Later!” he yelled. Harry sighed. He’d really wanted to know, now he’d probably never find out, at least not until he cornered Fred the next time he saw him.

Harry was quick to catch up with Ron and their two-player game began. Mainly, they just practiced their own positions. Harry would try and get the quaffle past Ron, with little to no success, and afterwards, Ron would release the snitch and watch in awe as Harry flew after it. Some of the moves Harry would make were absolutely brilliant, not to mention frightening. On more than one occasion, Ron wondered whether or not Harry would end up face first on the ground.

“Would you be careful!” he yelled after another particularly scary dive on Harry’s part.

Harry toned it down a bit after that; worried Ron would have a conniption if he didn’t. They played for another hour or so before he heard someone calling their names.

“Harry!” finally, the voice penetrated his determination and the two friends glided down to land on the ground.

“Yeah?” he asked, breathlessly.

“It’s time for supper. Why don’t the two of you go clean yourselves up before joining me for dinner,” he said, more of a demand than a request. Harry nodded and made his way to his own bathroom. Ron watched him as he walked effortlessly into the room and into the bathroom. After a moment, he followed after. He stood watching Harry in the mirror.

“What happened to your door?” he suddenly asked, startling Harry.

Locking eyes with his best friend through the mirror, Harry quickly finished washing his hands before turning around. “You know how I had issues with going into my bedroom at Hogwarts after Severus…” he trailed off, motioning with his hands, trying to convey what he meant. But Ron knew precisely what he meant. After Severus locked Harry in his bedroom, the small teen hadn’t been able to go back inside. Still hadn’t as far as Ron knew, but he wondered at his ability to enter his bedroom here, at his home. Then he remembered the missing door.

“Does not having a door help?” he asked. He glanced at the doorway, and noticed the door had just been taken off its hinges, for he finally saw it leaning against the wall in the closet across the room.

Harry shrugged nervously. “Yeah, I guess. It’s different here,” he tried to explain. “I don’t have the same memories in this room that I do with my room at Hogwarts. I don’t associate this room with the fear I felt when Severus did…that. But, to ease my own concerns, he agreed to let me take the door down until I feel ready to put it back up. That way there’s no barrier between the hallway and me. I know it sounds stupid, but it makes me feel better,” he added uncomfortably, staring down at the floor.

Ron sighed. “It’s not stupid. It’s the least stupid thing I’ve ever heard, in fact. If I were you, I’d have done the same thing and if it makes you feel safe, then do it,” said Ron, supportively. He was actually relieved Harry had decided to protect himself in this way. He trusted Snape with Harry, he really did, but after he’d locked his best friend in his bedroom in his state of delirium, he’d been worried. He knew Snape would safeguard against that sort of thing happening again, but he could still worry about his friend. And he didn’t plan on stopping anytime soon.

Dinner was eaten in relative silence. Both boys were nearly exhausted after an afternoon full of Quidditch, and more so for Harry, who hadn’t been getting hardly any sleep at all.

“Perhaps you two should turn in early?” suggested Severus, idly watching as Cella entered the dining room and with a snap of her fingers, the dishes floated off the table and followed her into the kitchen.

Harry, who had been sitting with his head propped up by his hand, snapped his head up, trying to look more alert. “I’m not that tired,” he argued, but Severus wouldn’t have it. And neither would Ron.

“Come on mate, I’m beat. I’m more than willing to go to bed early, and you know how abnormal that is for me,” he said, trying to convince his friend. He didn’t know why Harry was trying to avoid bed, but it was obvious that the raven-haired teen was about to fall asleep sitting at the table.

Harry nodded, knowing he was defeated. “Okay, I guess I am a little tired,” he finally conceded.

Ron waited by the door as Harry said goodnight to his father, and was even a bit surprised when Snape hugged Harry before letting him go. Sometimes it was just odd seeing the man being a father. But he had to admit that he was good at it.

……………………….

After changing into their pajamas and brushing their teeth, the two boys climbed into their respective beds. Ron had his own bed set against the south wall, with Harry’s directly across from him.

“Goodnight, Harry,” mumbled Ron sleepily.

Harry pulled the covers up to his chin before glancing over at his friend. “Yeah, goodnight, Ron,” he said, equally sleepy, but not looking forward to the nightmares he was almost positive he would have during the night.

It was a few hours before the raven-haired teen was even able to fall asleep. After tossing and turning and simultaneously keeping his best friend up, Ron had gotten fed up and asked him to stay still. Harry did so, even knowing it would undoubtedly cause him to fall asleep. The constant moving was a technique he used to keep himself awake. No such luck tonight, though, and eventually, the boy had fallen fast asleep.

At around three in the morning, Ron woke up groggily. Glancing at the clock he groaned, wondering why in the world he would possibly wake up this early. He looked around the room, trying to find the cause of his early rising, only to notice that Harry was tossing his head quite fitfully.

“Harry?” he asked, knowing the boy wouldn’t answer considering he was asleep. “Hey, Harry!” he yelled a bit louder, but still garnered no response. When Harry started whimpering Ron jumped out of bed and rushed to his side.

Ron touched his shoulder, but even in sleep, Harry recoiled from the touch as if he’d been struck. “No,” he mumbled, pushing away at Ron with his hands. Gently, Ron pushed Harry’s hands down and started shaking him.

“Come on, Harry, it’s just a dream. Wake up now,” he called, desperately trying to pull his friend from the nightmare he was currently trapped in. “It’s not real. Wake up, mate!” he emphasized his words with another harsh shake of the shoulders, and it did the trick. Harry jolted into a sitting position and nearly shoved Ron straight off the bed.

Harry gasped for breath, feeling as if his chest had been constricted and the air had just been allowed in. He saw a glimmer of someone sitting beside him on his bed and nearly panicked. He shoved at the figure and nearly succeeded in pushing it off the bed. The person persisted and tried to touch him again. Harry recoiled and tried kicking, but he was grabbed and forcefully restrained before he could do any damage. Finally, he could hear what the person was speaking and realized with a shock that it was only Ron. His best friend. Someone he trusted with his life. “Ron?” he asked weakly, still trying to get out of the other boy’s strong grip.

“Are you calm now?” he asked. Harry nodded, looking anywhere but at Ron.

“Sorry for acting like such an idiot,” he said quietly, and when Ron finally released him, he sat up in bed and scooted towards the backboard.

“That must have been some nightmare,” said Ron suddenly. Harry looked up at him wonderingly.

“How’d you know it was a nightmare?”

Ron looked slightly flabbergasted. “With all the fuss you were making, how could it be anything else?”

Harry once again looked away. “I didn’t realize, sorry.”

“Well you don’t have to apologize for it. I was just saying…” he trailed off, not wanting to make Harry feel even more isolated than he already looked. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked instead, before realizing that wasn’t a much better offer.

“No!” Harry said instantly, before blushing and turning away. “No, it’s not important anyways.”

Ron wasn’t so sure about that, if the way Harry had been reacting to the nightmare was any indication. “Have you talked to your father about it?” he asked, wondering if this was the first time Harry had had a bad dream. He remembered the way his friend had tossed and turned at the beginning of the night and figured there’d been more than just one.

“No,” he responded quickly, looking up at Ron in alarm. “And you can’t either.”

Ron had been starting to stand up from Harry’s bed, but at those words, he fell back onto the bed and glared at his best friend. “Why not?”

Gulping at the look on the red-head’s face, Harry suddenly looked away and pulled a hand through his black locks, not wanting to make eye contact. “I don’t want him to worry over nothing, Ron. They’re not that bad,” he said slowly, finally making eye contact with his friend before speaking again. “It is just stuff from the battle, seeing all those people hurt, knowing I almost lost my father,” he lied.

Ron nodded sympathetically. “I can understand that. I’ve been having a few bad dreams about that myself. But, I still think it would help to talk to your dad about it,” he tried helpfully.

Harry shook his head. “I think I’ll live,” he replied jokingly. The redhead didn’t seem very amused though. “They’re not as bad as they were, so I think they’re finally starting to fade.”

He hated lying to Ron, but if the boy knew the true extent of his nightmares, he’d definitely make him talk to his father about it, something he wasn’t ready to do, not just yet. And he’d promised himself if they got unbearable he’d go to his dad. He meant to keep that promise.

“You’re sure?”

Harry lay back down in his bed. “I’m sure.”

……………………………

The next morning, Ron woke up before Harry, and seeing the boy sleeping so peacefully, decided it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to let him sleep in a bit longer. After silently getting ready for the day he went down to the dining room, hoping breakfast was already waiting on the table. It just so happened that it was, but there was also someone already seated at the table.

“Professor Snape,” Ron said suddenly, feeling awkward being in the room alone with Snape without his best friend.

“Mr. Weasley,” Snape greeted him with a nod and a wave towards the table. “Have a seat.”

Ron complied immediately, but made no move to retrieve any food. After a moment of silence, Severus looked up again and sighed humorously. “The food is here for our consumption, please, help yourself,” he said, gesturing to all the food still placed on the table.

Feeling like a complete heel, Ron did as he was told, piling food onto his plate. “Thanks, sir,” he said, mouth already stuffed full of food.

Severus stared at him for a moment, feeling slightly disgusted, yet amused. “Anytime,” he said slowly before turning back to his own food. If he watched the boy much longer, he’d lose his own appetite. “Where’s Harry?” he asked when the boy hadn’t shown up after a few minutes.

Ron shrugged his shoulders, put his fork down, swallowed, and finally looked up at his Professor. “He’s still sleeping. I figured I’d just let him sleep in after the night he’d had,” he said, and nearly choked on his next bite of food when he realized what he’d said.

“What do you mean? Exactly what kind of night did he have?” asked Severus, lowering his own fork to the plate.

Ron stumbled on his words, not wanting to give Harry’s secret away. He’d seemed adamant the night before that he didn’t want his father knowing about his nightmares. But was that really what was in his best interests? Not really, at least not in Ron’s mind. “He had a nightmare,” he said, hating that he was betraying his friend, but it was obvious the boy wasn’t getting any sleep. Something had to be done.

“A nightmare…” he trailed off, as if realizing something. He threw his napkin down on his plate and started to stand up.

“What are you going to do?” asked Ron, standing as well. Snape didn’t look too pleased, but Ron couldn’t figure out why the man would be angry at Harry over something like this. He should be concerned…not acting like this. “He’s had a bad night!” Ron suddenly yelled, following after the man. “You can’t go in there and start yelling at him,” he proclaimed, grabbing Snape’s sleeve, causing him to stop. Ron looked at his hand that was still clinging to the black sleeve and then up to Snape’s face. He instantly released the man but stood his ground. “What’s your problem?” he asked heatedly.

Snape crossed his arms and glared at the boy currently blocking the stairs. “My problem, Mr. Weasley, is that my son has been having nightmares since the beginning of break and deemed it unnecessary to inform me. I will not tolerate lying, not even from my son. The relationship we have is to be an honest one. He must learn that I will not abide this type of behavior!”

Ron bristled at the man’s words, suddenly having a deep instinctual urge to protect his best friend. As the man stalked up the stairs, Ron shouted after him. “What are you going to do? Lock him in his room again!”

Severus spun around on the staircase, glaring daggers at the boy. “How dare you-“

Ron cut him off, slamming up the stairs after him. “If you go in there with an attitude like that you’re going to terrify him. Have you learned nothing?”

Snape didn’t say anything for a moment. He took a deep breath, as if calming himself from throwing Ron back down the stairs. “I hadn’t planned on speaking to my son with anything less than concern, Mr. Weasley. My foul mood is based solely on your incessant blubbering that I can’t do my own job as a father,” he stopped suddenly and turned his fierce gaze onto the boy who was now feeling incredibly stupid. “I do not appreciate your accusations and would prefer it if I never heard them again. If you continue in this state, I will have to ask you to leave and never return,” he finished softly, and not waiting for the boy’s response, began to head up the stairs again.

Ron hesitated for all but a second before opening his incredibly large mouth again. “Professor?” he asked sullenly.

Snape stopped, but didn’t turn around. “Mr. Weasley?”

“I’m not trying to be a pain, I swear, but I think maybe you should wait for Harry to come to you,” he said slowly, waiting for the outburst he felt sure was coming.

Severus turned around and watched the boy with a critical eye. It was true that Harry would deeply resent being forced to talk about his nightmares, and that could create a very large wedge between them, something he didn’t want to risk with his son. He could accept that and nodded. “I suppose I agree with that. However, if Harry starts to have any more problems, I will be speaking with him whether he wants me to or not. Severus expected a long conversation between himself and Harry in the near future.

“That sounds good, Professor. Thanks,” said Ron, not daring to make eye contact with the man after saying so many horrible things to him. “I really am sorry about what I said earlier.” Severus nodded. “You wouldn’t really keep me from Harry, would you?” he asked, fearing Snape’s words from before. If the man never let him in their house ever again, he’d hardly ever see Harry. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stand that.

“I just said you weren’t allowed in my home if you persisted. So far, you haven’t done so. However, I wouldn’t keep Harry from you even if you were to annoy me so much that I banned you from my home. Harry would still be allowed at yours.”

Ron sighed in relief. “Great,” he said slowly, letting out a breath of air he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Severus smirked. “Why don’t you see about waking Harry and having him join us for breakfast?” asked Severus before turning and retreating into the dining room. Ron waited until the man was out of sight before rushing back upstairs. He couldn’t believe the narrow miss he’d just had with his best friend’s father. He’d be lucky if he weren’t thrown out before the day was finished.

……………………..

That afternoon Ron left to go back to the Burrow, and with his Mum allowing, he’d be back with Hermione on Monday. The weekend was looking to be interesting, considering both Sirius and Remus were coming over to see how he was doing. They were to arrive the next morning and Harry couldn’t help but be excited. Even though it had only been a week since he’d last seen them, it felt like much longer.

After Ron had left, Harry began to spend more time with his father. He would help in the laboratory if he had any inkling of how to make the potion he was brewing, or other times they’d just sit in companionable silence while reading in Severus’ study. It was during one of these times that the floo came to life, spitting out two grown men into the Study.

“Hello, Black, Lupin,” stated Severus, not bothering to look up from his paper. Harry grinned at his father before jumping up from his chair and throwing his arms around the newly arrived men.

“Hey!” he yelled as they embraced him in return. “You’re late!” Not that he minded, but they were usually so punctual.

“Sorry about that,” Remus apologized, “We actually lost track of the time. We’ve been fixing up my old house for the past few days and we’re even adding a new room for you when you come to visit us,” said Lupin excitedly. Harry beamed at him.

“Splendid,” remarked Severus, not sounding thrilled at all, but Harry noticed that his godfather and Remus just ignored him. It was odd, being in a room with these three men, mainly because they didn’t really get along but were trying for his sake. And so long as they tried, Harry wouldn’t complain, although he’d love it to pieces if someday they could be in the same room together without all this tension.

Harry shot a look at his father, as if saying ‘be nice,’ before turning back to Sirius and Remus. “Come on, I’ll show you around the house,” he said, grabbing onto a sleeve from each man and jerking. “Let’s go.”

“This isn’t a house, Harry, this is a ruddy castle,” remarked Sirius, looking at all the elaborate decorations throughout with shoddily disguised awe. “I had no idea Snape was this rich!”

Harry looked at his godfather questioningly. “How could you not? Severus’ family has always been rich, even when he was still attending Hogwarts. Didn’t you know?” he asked.

Sirius looked utterly bewildered. “I had no idea,” he said slowly. “I mean, he was always dressed so poorly.”

Harry shot a dark look at his godfather. “Would that have changed your opinion of him? If he’d dressed in elegant robes and flaunted his wealth?” asked Harry, stopping completely in the hallway between the second and third floors. He was so angry. “I’m rich, you know, and I didn’t dress like I had any money because I wasn’t allowed to! The Dursley’s wouldn’t give me any descent clothes!” he nearly yelled, and felt a hand land gently on his shoulder behind him. Remus squeezed his shoulder lightly and it helped Harry to calm down.

“Harry-“ started Sirius, but Harry wasn’t ready to listen to him just yet.

“No, just stop it,” he whispered, crossing his arms across his chest defensively. “If you had seen me without my Hogwarts uniform on when we first met, would you have thought me worthless too?” he asked shakily. The hand on his shoulder tightened.

“What?” asked Sirius, appalled. “No! How could you think that? I wouldn’t have cared what you were dressed as!”

“Oh, really?” Harry was still feeling hurt, and he wasn’t even sure where the feelings were even coming from.

“Yes, really! I love you, Harry, no matter what. When I said that about Snape, I wasn’t trying to degrade him or make him seem any lesser in your eyes. I was just making an observation. Please, Harry, where’s this all coming from?”

Harry sighed deeply and threw his hands in the air in frustration. “I don’t know!” he yelled, trying to turn away from the both of them, but Remus’ hand on his shoulder kept him immobile. “I guess I’m just tired and blowing things out of proportion,” he sighed again. “I’m sorry I yelled at you,” he said slowly.

“It’s no problem, Harry,” said Sirius softly. He came closer and when Harry didn’t move away from him, he embraced the boy. “Snape and I have never gotten along just on principle. He was a Slytherin and I was a Gryffindor. It had nothing to do with how much money he had or didn’t have,” he whispered in Harry’s ear. The boy nodded and threw his arms around Sirius in return.

“I’m such a prat,” he said, smiling.

“That’s all right, Harry, we’ll love you anyways,” said Remus, speaking for the first time since the argument began. Harry grinned at them and then yawned tiredly, trying to hide it with his hand. “Have you been sleeping well?”

Harry shrugged his shoulders as if it were nothing. “Just been excited to be home, I think. I’ll probably sleep like the dead tonight, though,” he said, brushing it off.

“Well, let’s finish this grand tour,” demanded Sirius, rushing up the flight of stairs to nose about in Snape’s home. “This is great, Remus. We definitely need to get a castle!” he yelled down at them.

Remus grinned and shook his head. “Sometimes, he acts just like a kid,” he said, but with a distant look in his eyes. Harry knew he was thinking of the time Sirius lost while in Azkaban. Sometimes Harry felt the same way, as if he was denied his childhood and kept locked away, just, as his godfather had been. At least Sirius had been older. “We’d better go find him before he discovers Snape’s rooms and does something he probably won’t regret.”

Harry laughed.

As the early morning light filtered through the haphazardly closed window shades, Harry gratefully climbed out of bed. Another night without any sleep was over, and he was eternally thankful for it. Every time his eyes had drifted shut, they’d slam open again a moment later as the face of his uncle came into his vision. It never failed, and Harry was exhausted, still. He hid it well, but his sleep deprivation was really beginning to take its toll.

Climbing out of bed, he nearly stumbled into the bedside dresser before regaining his precarious balance and slowly making his way to the bathroom. A nice splash of cold water in the face should do the trick. Entering the bathroom, he decided to forego the splash in the face and headed straight for the shower. Only turning on the cold faucet, Harry forced himself to succumb to the intense chill of the water in order to wake himself up. It worked to an extent. He quickly changed into a pair of loose jeans and a t-shirt before rushing downstairs to join his father for breakfast. He hadn’t been late for the meal since he’d arrived, mainly because he was always up long before his dad was. If Severus caught on, he didn’t let Harry know.

“Good morning, Harry,” he said genially as the boy entered the dining room and took his seat across from Severus. “Did you sleep well?”

Harry glanced up from his still empty plate and nodded his head weakly. “Yes, I slept fine,” he lied.

Severus stared at him for a long while, but Harry didn’t even notice. He had started placing a small amount of food on his plate.

“Is that all you intend on eating?” asked his father.

Harry looked up once more. “I’m not that hungry this morning,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. He really wasn’t, he was too damn tired to want to eat.

Severus sighed, almost sounding disappointed. “What’s wrong?” asked Harry, watching his father warily. Harry glanced down at his plate, wondering if he had put too much food on it. Was that the reason his father wasn’t too pleased with him this morning? When his father had asked him if that was all he planned on eating, Harry had taken it as it was spoken. But, now, thinking back, perhaps there had been some sarcasm in the man’s voice? He did always get so mad when he took too much food…no wait, that wasn’t his father, that was his Uncle.

Shaking his head furiously to dislodge the confusing thoughts, Harry took a slice of bacon off his plate and began to slowly chew on it. Severus wanted him to eat, not the other way around. Merlin, he was so tired.

“What time are your friends arriving, Harry?” asked Severus, having not noticed his son’s distracted behavior.

Harry shoved the rest of the bacon in his mouth and swallowed before answering. “Around noon, I think.”

“I think I might go into the village when they arrive and pick up a few potions supplies I’m in need of. Will the three of you be able to contain yourselves and behave while I’m gone?” he asked.

The glare Harry gave his father made Severus grin. “I suppose that’s a yes, then?”

“I’m not a child, father,” he said, grinning as well when his dad gave him one of those looks, with his brow raised. “And you don’t have to wait, you can leave now if you need to. I’m quite capable of taking care of myself for a half an hour before Ron and Hermione get here,” he added.

Severus seemed to consider this for a moment before nodding his head. “I expect you’re right,” he stood up from the table then and headed for the front entrance. “I should be back within the hour unless the village is crowded. Behave,” he said, running a hand through his son’s disheveled hair before walking out the door.

Harry shut it behind him and went back into the dining room to clean up the mess they had left, only to discover Cella had beat him to it. “Thanks, Cella!” he yelled at the house elf as she disappeared. He trudged into the study to await his friends as he’d done the week before for Ron. He grabbed a book off his father’s desk and plopped down into a chair set in front of it. He had read about ten pages before the book had started to slip out of his limp hands and fall to the floor. He jerked his head awake and sat up straight, breathing hard. It was a testament of just how tired he was that he’d nearly fallen asleep while deeply engrossed in reading.

At the same time, the fireplace flared a bright green, spitting out his two best friends. He was a little surprised when the fire didn’t die down, but two more people fell onto the floor. “Fred, George?” he asked, hoping his father wouldn’t mind the extra company. He highly doubted the man would have left them to their own devices had he known the twins were coming.

“Hey, Harry!” Fred exclaimed before throwing an arm around his shoulders and giving him a firm side hug.

“How’s it going with Snape?” asked George, looking around the large study and into the expansive corridor beyond. “You were right Ron, this place is brilliant.”

Harry watched as the twins and Hermione gazed at the house, precisely as Sirius had done only the week before, and laughed. “It’s great, living here, and it’s going fine with my father. He just left, as a matter of fact, but he’ll be back soon,” he added, noticing the mischievous looks that crossed the twins faces.

“Don’t worry, Harry, we aren’t going to do anything,” said Fred, poking his brother in the ribs. “We promise.”

Harry hoped not, he’d never hear the end of it from Severus if they did. “Good. Well, there’s plenty of stuff for us to do,” he mentioned, motioning for them to proceed him out into the corridor. “What would you guys like to do?” he asked, considering they were his guests.

“Can we get something to eat first?” asked Ron, already walking through the door and heading down the hallway towards the kitchen. “I missed lunch and I’m starving!”

Harry suppressed a snicker. Same old Ron.

“You didn’t miss lunch, you prat!” exclaimed George, jogging a bit to catch up with his little brother.

Ron looked scandalized. “I did so! If you take into consideration that the two of you, along with Bill and Charlie, ate up the entire meal! I never stood a chance!” he argued back as they turned a corner. Harry sighed as he was left alone with Fred and Hermione. The bushy haired girl was giving him a scrutinizing look, which Harry didn’t like at all.

“What?” he asked, when neither of his friends had said a word.

“Well, nothing really,” started Hermione. “You just look tired,” she added, still observing him with a significant look, expecting an answer that Harry had no intention of giving.

“Yeah, Har, you don’t look like you’ve slept a wink. Are you having bad dreams?” asked Fred, watching him with concern. Harry had to suppress another sigh. What was with everyone complaining about his sleeping habits or lack thereof?

“No, I just stayed up late reading a book,” he lied, and when Hermione gave him a shocked look, he berated himself for such a stupid lie. It wasn’t exactly common knowledge that he liked to read sometimes, but Hermione knew he didn’t do it very often. “I read!” he exclaimed when both of his friends continued to stare at him.

“Well, obviously you can read, but in your spare time?” asked Fred.

Harry threw up his hands. “When else am I supposed to read? When I’m busy?” he asked sarcastically, knowing he shouldn’t be this angry or annoyed at them just for asking about his well being. He knew it was fatigue causing him to be so irritable, but he couldn’t let the two of them know that, especially now that he’d gone to such lengths to avoid even talking about it.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Harry,” explained Fred, still looking concerned, but Harry thought there was a touch of impatience in his voice as well. Apparently his anger was getting on their nerves just as much as their constant questioning was getting on his. “It’s just that I’ve never seen you read a book unless it’s for school. And why are we even arguing about this? I was just making a point.”

Harry nodded, backing down. “I’m sorry,” he apologized and was quick to change the subject. He knew if they kept on in the same vein, he’d surely tell them the truth. “We’d better catch up with Ron and George. Cella will have a fit if she catches them in the kitchen without her knowledge. She’ll want to wait on them hand and foot and I don’t think they’ll quite understand just how pushy she can be,” he said and rushed off down the corridor, hoping they would follow him.

They did, wordlessly, but Harry knew they wouldn’t give up that easily.

Walking into the kitchen produced an interesting sight. Ron and George were seated at a table situated in the middle of the room, with Cella standing at their sides, placing plate upon plate in front of them.

“Harry Potter sir!” she yelped as she caught sight of him. “Why did not you tell me?” she asked, small hands shoved onto her hips as she tapped her foot impatiently. “I’s would have made more food!” she exclaimed. Harry, looking at all the food already on the table, thought there was more than enough already.

Ron and George were looking at him helplessly, but not all that troubled by all the food. Still, they seemed to be at a loss on how to make the house-elf stop putting so much food in front of them. Harry waved at them, indicating he would step in. Walking over to the elf, he kneeled down in front of her, and her foot tapping ceased immediately.

“Yes, sir?” she asked timidly. Harry grinned to make her feel better, as she hadn’t done anything wrong by wanting to feed his friends, even if it was in excess. She relaxed instantly and waited patiently for him to speak.

“Cella, this isn’t a party or anything,” he said quietly, and she stared at him curiously. “You don’t have to go to all this trouble, even though we do appreciate the thought,” he said. The house-elf bowed repeatedly and grasped his hands tightly in hers.

“Sir, you must have food for your party, sir,” she said quickly, indicating all the people standing in the room. “Master Severus did not speak of one, but he’s be awful disappointed in Cella if she don’t feed you properly!” she exclaimed, wringing her hands now.

Harry sighed, it was always so difficult to explain to a house-elf that he simply didn’t need this much help, and he wasn’t even having a party! Just a few friends over, and they were more than capable of fending for themselves. He just didn’t know how to explain that to Cella without hurting her feelings. Deciding it would be best if he just gave her something to do, he looked outside, trying to find something for her to do before an idea struck him.

“Do you guys want to play a quick game of Quidditch before my dad gets back? It might be the only chance we get,” he said quickly, hoping they were in the mood to play. Everyone shrugged or said ‘yes,’ and Harry grinned happily. “Good, now then…Cella, would you mind getting each of us a glass of Butterbeer for when we’re done playing? Would it be too much trouble to have it waiting for us towards the end of the game, so it will be nice and cool?” he asked, trying to think of something that would keep her busy and out of their way. “And maybe some snacks as well. It doesn’t matter what it is,” he added, and Cella eagerly agreed.

“Oh, yes sir, I’d be pleased, Harry Potter, sir!” she said excitedly before disappearing with a pop. Harry sighed with relief as soon as she’d gone and slid into an empty seat at the table currently overwhelmed with food.

Ron was quietly sniggering behind a napkin as he shoved some sort of dessert into his mouth, while Hermione looked downright scandalized. “I can’t believe you just set that poor house-elf to work, Harry Potter!” she huffed indignantly. “She’s not your slave, you know!” she went on, completely ignoring the fact that Cella enjoyed her work, enjoyed doing things for Harry Potter and his father. Hermione just couldn’t seem to understand that, hadn’t been able to, in fact, since their fourth year.

Harry decided to just ignore Hermione, as she seemed to be too upset with him at the moment to even speak with him. He glanced at Ron who only shrugged his shoulders, not knowing what to say. Leading the way out the door, Harry waited a moment for Ron to shove one more piece of cake into his mouth before stepping off the back patio and onto the expansive lawn. Ron had already seen it, but Hermione and the twins hadn’t. He waited for the moment when they realized just how massive Snape manor was, outside and within.

“Damn, mate! This all belongs to your father?” asked George, standing beside him in awe. Harry smiled a bit, nodding. It was actually getting a bit old, how everyone reacted to the Manor, but he supposed there was an actual reason for it…the manor house and the land it resided on was rather vast and expressive. But, Harry being Harry, it all just seemed so superficial. There was more to him than the place he lived, and with the way everyone kept gawking at his father’s Manor, he was beginning to feel slightly put out.

Frowning, Harry started out across the lawn, not waiting or even looking if his friends were following him. He heard light running footsteps behind him but didn’t slow down. It didn’t take long, however, for Hermione to catch up with him. “Are you all right?” she asked, placing a hand on his arm to slow him down. He yanked his arm away and slowed to a stop.

“I’m fine, why?” he asked, sounding grouchy and knowing it. But, he was growing more and more tired as the day progressed and the littlest things were starting to get to him. Fred, George, and Ron had caught up to them and stood towards the side, looking curious and concerned.

“Are you sure you’re getting enough rest?” asked Fred, beginning to come closer to Harry, but the smaller boy stepped away from him.

“Would you all just stop it with the sleeping thing!” he yelled, storming away. He walked over to the new storage shed that held all their Quidditch equipment and extra brooms. Flinging open the door, he reached inside and grabbed as many brooms as he could get his hands on and threw them on the ground in front of the others, who had joined him once more. “There, get yourselves a broom and we can go and play,” he said, more gently, grabbing his firebolt from the shed, and walking further onto the pitch.

“Harry?” asked Ron, running up to his best friend.

Stopping abruptly, Harry turned and faced his redheaded friend, watching him warily. “What?” he asked, holding his broom in a sweeping action.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and by the look in his eyes and the sound of his voice, Harry knew he wasn’t going to put up with the younger boy’s spiteful ways much longer.

“Fine,” he said slowly. “Can’t we just play some Quidditch now? My dad’s going to be home soon and I’m not so sure he’d be very pleased you’re all here,” he said, indicating the twins. It was true, Severus probably would be a bit upset with him for not owling him about the extra company, but he didn’t want the twins to feel like that had to leave, but his father had only allowed him to have Ron and Hermione over, not Fred and George. And, Harry, not willing to test the waters with his father’s lenience, especially now that he was feeling more and more insecure, didn’t want to get into trouble with his dad. Now, he was almost pushing them into a game and out the door. But, he didn’t want their visit to be for naught, either. And he was so damn tired it was hard to think.

“Why do you think Snape wouldn’t want us here? Didn’t you tell him we were coming?” asked Hermione, looking a bit shocked. Harry imagined she would never go against her parents’ rules just to have friends over.

Ron had a look of fright on his face, as if Severus was going to show up any minute, but Harry couldn’t understand why he looked so jittery.

A bit indignant, Harry threw his hands in the air, “Of course I told him you were coming. But, not Fred and George. He left me by myself because he just thought it was going to be the three of us. No offense, you two, but I don’t think he’d have felt quite the same way knowing you were here,” he said slowly, hoping he didn’t hurt their feelings. But, they both seemed to completely understand where he was coming from.

“If I were a parent, I don’t suppose I would want us around without parental supervision, either,” said Fred, thoughtfully. “Especially if they knew how we were in school, which Snape does…” he trailed off, giving Harry a sympathetic look. “Would it be better if we went ahead and left then?” he asked.

Harry shot that down as soon as it was said. “No, I don’t want you to leave. Severus said he wouldn’t be back for another hour or so, and I know the village will be crowded at this hour, so it will be fine if you stay a little longer. Please, don’t think you have to leave just yet. And besides, we haven’t even started our game yet, and I want something to do! And, I will feel awful if you just leave after having come all this way,” he said, hoping to convince them to stay. He hadn’t wanted them to leave when he’d mentioned his dad coming home soon and everything. He’d just wanted to avoid the conversation they’d been heading in…but, he was a little bit worried about what his father would say, but he knew he wouldn’t get in that much trouble, would he? It wasn’t his fault they came over; he’d had no idea, in fact.

Fred sighed. “We’ll stay, but only until the game is through,” he said slowly, his eyes on his twin as he said this. George nodded his head in consent; they would stay, for Harry.

Ron walked up to his best friend as the others went and got the rest of the supplies out of the shed. “I doubt your dad will mind that they’re here, you know,” he said slowly, watching Harry with concern. The smaller boy took note of this and turned his head away.

“I just don’t want him to get mad at me or be disappointed,” he said, knowing he was revealing too much, but he was too tired to really care.

“He trusts you Harry, he won’t be mad or disappointed,” Ron said insistently.

It was nice to hear that from his friend, but it would be even better to hear it from his father. “I guess you’re right,” he said slowly, even though he was still in doubt, but he didn’t want Ron to keep on with the conversation. “Are you ready to play?” he asked, deliberately changing the subject to something Ron would be more than willing to allow.

“Sure!” he exclaimed, thinking Harry was okay, and if not, they could always talk about it later. Ron mounted his broom and flew up to where Fred and George were patiently waiting for them.

“Hermione, aren’t you going to play?” asked Harry, watching his friend get comfortable on the grass under a shaded area beneath a tree. The girl gave him an ‘you’re joking, right?’ look, which immediately shut the boy up. “Just thought I’d ask,” he said slowly, and continued to mount his own broom and fly up to his friends. “Let’s get started!” he called, and the Weasley boys all went for their positions they normally played at Hogwarts while Harry flew high above them. Once more, like the week before when Ron and he had played, they were just playing to have fun, not keeping a score at all. It would have been more interesting had there been enough people to actually have a team, but this was just as exciting, really. Sometimes, Harry even had to swoop down and perform the actions of a beater to keep Ron from getting pelted off his broom.

They had been playing for almost half an hour when Harry began to feel extremely fatigued and light headed. He desperately wanted to stop playing, but didn’t want to ruin the game for everyone else. He hadn’t even caught the snitch yet. He drifted around on his broom, not really paying attention to what was going on around him, or to where the snitch might possibly be in order to end the game. The small teen was wavering where he sat when it happened. Trying to maintain his balance, Harry was unaware of the danger approaching him in the form of a bludger, until a shrill scream from below him caught his attention.

“Harry!” screamed Hermione. Harry jerked his head in her direction, but it was too late. Just as he was turning towards the direction in which she was pointing, a bludger slammed into his shoulder. With one hand, he held onto his broom as the force of the blow nearly sent him clear off of it. The pain in his shoulder was excruciating and he was finding it very difficult to concentrate on the mechanics of maintaining his hold on the unsteady broom.

As darkness encroached from all sides, Harry began to slide off. He tried to hold on, but he was too weak and tired to sustain his hold. His fingers loosened and he felt the brief sensation of falling before he was caught in someone’s arms.

“Harry? Harry?” asked a distant voice. He glanced up into the face of the one who was holding him and realized it was Fred.

“Fred?” he whispered painfully, his shoulder feeling as if it had exploded, and his entire being growing more and more tired.

“Hang on, Harry. We’re almost there,” said another voice to his left. He saw a flash of red and knew it to be either Ron or George. Someone was still yelling somewhere below them, but Harry was too exhausted and in too much pain to care. As they finally reached the ground, Harry’s world dissolved around him.

………………………

Severus stepped from the fireplace and into his study. From the silence coming from the Manor, he assumed Harry and his friends had decided to go outside. He wandered into the kitchen and asked Cella for a cold drink. It was awfully hot outside and the village had been crowded, more so than he’d ever witnessed before. All those people in one place seemed to make it stifling. He hadn’t been able to wait to get home and had cut his visit short.

Grasping the glass in his hand, he took a long drink, relishing the feel of the cool liquid running down his throat. Much better. He set the glass down on the island in the middle of the kitchen before turning to go. But he noticed what his house-elf was doing and stopped in confusion.

“Cella?” he asked, garnering her attention.

“Yes, sir?”

“Why do you have so many butterbeers? Harry only had two friends coming over. Please don’t waste them like that,” he said, knowing that many beverages were not necessary for three teenagers.

Cella looked confused and a mite indignant. “I knows how many friends Master Harry has, Severus Snape, sir! And these drinks are less than they will be needing, sir!”

Severus stopped, raising a brow and growing more confused. “Excuse me? Just how many drinks do you believe three people need?” he asked, beginning to stalk out of the room. It was too hot to argue, actually.

“Three?” asked Cella. “There are five, sir.”

Severus stopped once more, this time in the hall outside the kitchen. He’d heard Cella and was wondering who in the hell was in his house. “Thank you, Cella. Carry on, then,” he continued slowly and walked up the stairs to the third floor. He was headed towards the library, which had the best view of the grounds surrounding his family home. Opening the doors, he quickly made his way to the balcony and stood with his hands on the elaborately chiseled veranda. He felt a moment of apprehension when he realized who the other two teens were out playing Quidditch with his son. Fred and George Weasley. The resident troublemakers of Hogwarts. Thankfully, they were no longer students at the school, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t still cause trouble. However, it was obvious Harry had kept them in line, and out of the house, thank Merlin.

Severus was about to re-enter the library when he heard Granger scream out Harry’s name. Spinning back around, he watched on in stunned paralysis as his son was hit with a bludger with enough force to practically knock him off his broomstick. With his heart slamming against his chest in fear, he felt his breath hitch and his heart skip a beat as the boy fell from his broom. He opened his mouth to scream but nothing more than a strangled moan escaped his throat as he watched helplessly from the balcony. Just as his body seemed to come under his control again, he watched with a great sense of relief as Fred Weasley caught his son in midair. He would never be more grateful than at that moment that the Weasley twins had decided to come along today. Finally, he made himself move and dashed down the three flights of stairs and out the back courtyard door.

Racing across the lawn, he reached the children just as Fred Weasley was touching down on the ground with his child hanging limply in his arms.

“Mr. Weasley?” he asked, trying desperately to maintain a calm voice. It was an extremely difficult task when witnessing your only child hurt in such a way.

“He passed out on the way down. It must hurt awfully bad to cause such a reaction, but the bludger did slam into him pretty hard,” he said, concern lacing his voice heavily.

Severus held out his arms and Fred gently passed his friend into his father’s awaiting embrace. Severus sighed once more in relief, as he finally was able to feel the weight of his son in his arms and know that he was all right, at least in a sense. He could still feel his heart beating erratically from the intense fear he had felt before. He also thought there was more to Harry passing out than from the pain alone. Berating himself for not confronting his son about his sleeping habits sooner, he quickly rushed the boy back into their home, his robes billowing out behind him.

Going directly to Harry’s room, he gently lowered his son onto his bed before turning to the nervous teens standing behind him. “Mr. Weasley,” he began, before remembering there were three Weasley’s in the room and locked his gaze with the youngest one to indicate he meant Ron. “Would you please go to my laboratory and get the healing salve. It is light blue in color and sitting on the third shelf from the top in my Potion’s cabinet. And, I daresay you know what the bone-healing potion looks like. Retrieve that as well, if you would. Do you know to which cabinet I refer?” he asked, wanting to make sure the boy knew exactly what to get. The redheaded teen had been in his lab once or twice in the week previous with Harry. If the child had any brains at all, he would remember where his Potions cabinet was.

“Yes, sir, I remember. I’ll be right back,” he exclaimed and ran from the room. Severus, ignoring the others still standing in different positions all around Harry’s bed, began to unbutton Harry’s shirt in order to have access to his shoulder. Pulling the shirt open and exposing the boy’s wound, he let out a gasp at the damage, and noticed he wasn’t the only one.

“That looks awful!” exclaimed Hermione, stepping closer to Harry’s bed, but not so close as to get in Severus’ way.

The Weasley twins were both looking grim at the harm done to their friend. It was obvious his shoulder bone had been broken, if not shattered, and a large bruise was spreading from the top of his shoulder to the area in-between his clavicle and the top of his breastbone. A moment later, the youngest redhead bolted back into the room, quickly handing the requested potions over to the Potions Master.

“Thank you, Mr. Weasley,” he said quietly, taking the items and setting them down on the bedside table. He didn’t want to, but he had to awaken Harry in order for the boy to take the Skelegrow potion. Taking his wand out of his robe sleeve, he pointed it at his son, and said, “Ennervate,”

Harry woke up with a pained groan and immediately tried to sit up. This turned out to be a bad idea, as it caused pain to flare up his entire left side. He gasped, gripping the sheets beneath him in a death grip, he was in so much pain. Severus, without further delay, gently lifted Harry’s head and poured the potion down the boy’s throat. Harry instinctively swallowed and was then lowered back onto the bed. “Dad?” he asked weakly.

“I’m right here, Harry,” he said quickly, as he took the healing salve off the bedside table and opening the drawer in the same table, took out another potion and also poured it down his son’s throat. “Drink, Harry,” he coaxed, rubbing his child’s throat when he started to sputter and nearly spit the potion back out. This particular draft of potion tasted even fouler than a normal one did. It was a pain-killing potion made specifically for the headaches Harry had started having after killing Voldemort. A variety of these potions’ vials containing the painkiller were kept in various spots throughout the house, as neither of them knew when a headache would hit Harry. They weren’t as bad as the ones he would get right before a vision, but they were bad enough to keep Harry off his feet for a few days when they did strike, if he didn’t get the potion right away. Harry had kept this information from his friends, and he wasn’t about to break the boy’s confidence by speaking of it now.

Knowing this draft was stronger he’d only allowed Harry half of the vial before replacing it in the drawer.

Harry felt the potion’s effects almost immediately and looked up at his father in relief. “Thanks, dad,” he whispered, his voice sounding particularly raw. Severus nodded, and started rubbing the healing salve into Harry’s bruised shoulder once he knew it wouldn’t cause his child any further pain. “There, does that feel better?” he asked. At Harry’s nod, and as he was finally able to sit up, Severus released the breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

Stepping out of the room for a moment, Severus allowed Harry a minute alone with his friends before he ushered them out of the house, by force if necessary. They had stayed long enough, in his opinion, and his son was in desperate need of rest. Rest he was bound and determined Harry would get. It was obvious his child hadn’t been getting enough sleep, and it had been partly the cause of Harry’s accident out on the Quidditch pitch. Had he not been falling asleep on his broom, he would have noticed the bludger, he felt certain.

After a few more minutes, Severus decided it was time to send the Weasley’s and Granger home. He pushed open the partially opened door and stepped inside. All of Harry’s friends had made a place to sit on his bed, with Hermione directly beside his head, holding his hand comfortingly, all talking quietly. He momentarily considered giving them a few minutes more, but when Harry tried to hide a yawn futilely, he changed his mind.

“I believe it’s time Harry got some rest,” he said, holding the door open with his hand, waiting patiently for them to give his son a hug, and in Granger’s case, a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Feel better, Harry. We’ll try and visit you again soon, okay?” Hermione asked, speaking to Harry, but looking at Snape for his approval. He nodded in consent. She smiled brilliantly at the teenager before slipping out the door with the rest of them.

Severus escorted the Weasley’s and Ms. Granger to the Floo in his study before rejoining his son in his bedroom. Harry was struggling to stay awake; his eyes drifting shut before he’d slam them open again.

“Harry?” he questioned, startling his son. “I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he added, sitting on the edge of the bed, taking Hermione’s earlier seat.

“It’s okay, I just didn’t expect you to come back,” he added tiredly.

Severus frowned. Harry had been acting increasingly timid around him, especially whenever he thought he was doing something that could be construed as wrong in his eyes. And now with Harry thinking he wouldn’t return when he was obviously still in some pain, it was a bit frustrating. He knew the teenager was exhausted; it was so obvious just by looking at his face, which was pale with dark circles under his eyes, almost so dark they appeared as bruises.

“You’re not sleeping,” he said bluntly. Harry became instantly livelier at those words, sitting up and turning his attention completely on his father.

“Yes, I am,” he argued, but Severus shook his head, making Harry stop.

“Don’t lie to me,” he said softly so not to worry Harry, but with a tone that meant business. Severus was beginning to wonder if Harry’s exhaustion hadn’t left him with a feeling of uncertainty towards him. It was as if the boy was worried he’d treat him as the Dursley’s used to when he was in their care. He used the term ‘care’ lightly.

But, even with his lighter tone, Harry instantly went on the defensive. “I’m not lying!” he cried, sitting up in bed, but sliding across to the other side when Snape gave him a knowing glare.

“You know I realize you’re not sleeping, and yet still you refuse to tell me the truth. Stop denying it, Harry, I won’t stand for it any longer,” he said, looking quite stern.

Harry slumped against the far pillow, refusing to look his father in the face. “I can’t,” he whispered.

The older man leaned across the bed wanting to hear Harry better. “What do you mean, you can’t?” he asked gently.

“Sleep…” he trailed off, and Severus suddenly felt his heart skip a beat at the desolation in his son’s voice.

“What’s wrong, Harry?” he asked, his tone pleading. Harry still wouldn’t look at him and it worried him to no end.

Suddenly, Harry turned his tired face towards him and slammed an angry hand against the clothed mattress. “He won’t leave me alone!” he exclaimed. Then, just as abruptly as his anger had come, it faded, and he leaned back against his pillow, closing his eyes and pressing his palms weakly against his eyes. “Why can’t he just leave me alone?” he asked faintly.

Unable to stand his son’s anguish any longer, he climbed onto the bed and laid down beside him, pulling him to his chest. Harry tried to push him away, but he persisted, and at last the boy went limp in his arms, unable or unwilling to fight against him any longer. Carding his fingers through his child’s raven colored hair, he wondered just what haunting him. Who was this person he was referring to?

“Who are you talking about, Harry?”

Silence. Harry gripped his robes in his fists and twisted them in his agitation. Severus grasped the clenched fingers and held them in his own larger hands in an effort to calm him down. “Obviously, something is eating away at you, child, please, tell me what’s bothering you so much.”

Taking a deep breath, Harry made himself tell his father what was going on. “Ever since that day at the train station…” he trailed off once more, but at that point Severus was almost certain he knew what was causing his son such anxiety.

“You’re having nightmares about your Uncle?” he asked, and was surprised when Harry gasped. As if it had been that difficult to figure out. Although, he was rather upset at himself for not figuring it out sooner, then Harry wouldn’t have had to suffer for so long. “Can you speak of them?” he asked.

Harry shook his head emphatically. “No, I can’t,” he pleaded desperately; obviously thinking Severus would force him to. The older man sighed wishing now they’d never met Vernon Dursley at all. Look at what one meeting had done to his son.

He began lightly running his fingers through Harry’s soft hair again in an effort to calm him once more. “We won’t speak of it if you’d rather not,” he told the panic stricken boy, and with those reassuring words, the tension seemed to drain straight out of him. “But, seeing as how you’re in desperate need of rest, I believe a flask of Dreamless Sleep is in order.”

Harry had begun to tense up again at the mention of needing rest, but once he discovered he wasn’t going to be forced to dream, he relaxed yet again. Without Ron there to assist him, he had to leave Harry in order to get the potion, something he wasn’t too keen on doing when he was so upset. But, as if she’d read his thoughts, Cella appeared before him looking anxious.

“Is Master Harry all right, sir?” she asked, wringing her hands together in her small robes.

Severus was quick to reassure her, lest she grow hysterical, as she was prone to doing when it regarded her Harry. “Yes, yes, he’s fine, Cella. Just tired. Would you please get a vial of Dreamless Sleep from my laboratory?” he asked.

Cella was quick to agree and rushed out of the room after the potion. She returned a moment later with a pop and handed the vial to the Potion’s Master before giving Harry one more worried look, then she popped back out, knowing her Master needed to attend to his son without her interference.

“Are you ready to sleep?” he asked, sitting back down on the side of the bed. Harry nodded, grateful looking, as he realized he’d actually get to sleep peacefully that night. Severus handed the boy the vial and waited until he’d downed the entire contents before taking it back. “Sleep well, my son,” he said softly as Harry’s eyes drifted shut.

Once he knew the boy was good and asleep, he pulled the blankets up to his chin before leaving the room. He knew the boy would get rested tonight, but also knew this wouldn’t be the end of his nightmares, nor would he be able to constantly give him Dreamless Sleep potion. He hated feeling as helpless as he did at that moment, knowing he couldn’t stop the bad dreams from coming.

“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.

Harry awoke with a shuddering gasp, sitting bolt upright in bed and momentarily believing he was somewhere else. Someplace he’d long since left behind. He couldn’t seem to get his memories to fade away, as they kept returning in his nightmares.

Sitting on his bed, Harry’s breathing slowly started to descend into what was considered normal, although his heart still was thumping against his chest erratically. Tonight’s dream had been too realistic, but it was a memory of an actual event, it should be realistic. But, as a dream, it was entirely too frightening. It was one he’d been having repeatedly, and Harry couldn’t comprehend why he was still having it. He had thought that after letting out all of his tension the previous night, the nightmares would fade as well. They hadn’t. In fact, Harry thought they had grown worse, as more details, details he’d long forgotten about, came through in the nightmare.

Drawing the blankets closer to his chest, Harry leaned back against the headboard as the memories of the dream filtered into his mind, despite his efforts to stop them. He remembered all too vividly what his dream was about. He’d been seven at the time, possibly eight. His Uncle Vernon had come home from work and he hadn’t finished his chores in the allotted time frame. The list had been too impossible to accomplish for an adult, let alone a small child. Harry had figured his Uncle must have had a horrible day at work, for instead of making Harry make their dinner, which was the norm, he immediately took his nephew upstairs, removed his belt, and proceeded to thrash the life out of the small boy. At first, Harry hadn’t even known why he was being punished, only that he was and it hurt! Afterwards, Vernon had left him on the bathroom floor, small puddles of blood pooling underneath him on the white tiles. It had been one of the worst beatings Harry had ever received, and he’d never told anyone, not even his father.

Harry shuddered again, wishing he could just conjure the courage to get up and go to his father. He knew the man wouldn’t mind, that he’d welcome him with open arms. But, in the back of his mind, he wondered if it wouldn’t be more of an inconvenience to wake his father so late at night just because he’d had a stupid bad dream. A relatively heart-wrenching bad dream, nonetheless, but he couldn’t take the risk that he’d annoy his father with his presence at 3 am.

Ten minutes later, Harry began to rethink his brilliant plan of not bothering his father. Every noise, every shadow became something more than what it really was. His incessant shaking was beginning to make him feel nauseous. He felt terrible. Getting out of bed, he quickly made his way down the hallway and to his father’s door. Raising his hand to knock, Harry started having second thoughts once more. He was being ridiculous. It had just been a bad dream. He began lowering his shaking hand from the spot in front of Severus’ door where it hovered uncertainly, when out of nowhere, his fist knocked of its own accord.

As soon as his knuckles hit the wood he wrenched himself back in shock. He couldn’t believe he’d done that. Moving away down the hall, Harry stopped in his tracks when he heard the door open.

“Harry?” asked a voice from within the bedroom. “Are you all right?”

Harry nodded jerkily. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, hoping his voice sounded as casual as he’d let on. He wasn’t entirely sure it had worked, though.

“You knocked?” he asked, holding the door open invitingly.

Harry paused, cursing his supposedly subconscious need to knock on his father’s door. He hesitated a moment too long, however, for his father stepped out of the room and into the hallway. “You had a nightmare?” he asked.

Harry was about to deny it but one look at his father had him stalling. “I-I just needed to go to the bathroom,” he hedged.

Severus sighed. “Harry, I know you had a nightmare, I set an alarm spell on you if you happened to become distressed during the night,” he raised his hands placatingly when Harry began to get angry at the intrusion. “You haven’t exactly been forthcoming lately, child. I’ve only done what I thought best for you. If you won’t help yourself, I will.”

Harry gazed tiredly down at the floor, refusing to make eye contact with his father. He was still upset that Snape had gone behind his back like he had, putting an alarm spell on him. But, in some odd way, it really made him feel good that his dad would go that far to make sure he was okay, considering his lack of conversation about his nightmares. No one else had cared enough about him to even attempt to talk to him, let alone go to all the trouble his father had.

Images of his nightmare began to filter into his mind as he thought and a shudder ripped through him. Not even realizing he had moved, Harry suddenly found himself walking into his father’s comforting arms. He needed to know someone cared about him, someone wanted him, and this was it. His father loved him. So why was it so hard to let him in?

He leaned into his father’s embrace, too tired to return it, but sucking in all the comfort this man had to give, finally allowing his body to go limp. Severus held him tighter, supporting his son’s small figure against him.

Severus gently raked his fingers through his son’s disheveled hair. “Come, let’s get you back in bed,” he said slowly, walking down the hallway with Harry securely held in his arms. He had merely lifted the boy off his feet, he weighed less than nothing, and strode back into his son’s doorless room.

The further they progressed, the more Harry began to come back to himself. He didn’t want to go back to bed, only visions of horror waited for him there. “No, dad,” he murmured, pushing against his father’s chest. Severus came to an abrupt stop and lowered the boy to his feet.

“What, son?”

“I’m not tired,” he tried helplessly.

Severus smirked. He couldn’t find the energy to scowl. “You’re indeed tired. You’re almost asleep on your feet.”

Harry stared at the floor, internally debating with himself over his situation. He sighed, feeling he’d have no other choice but to tell the man about his newest nightmare. It wasn’t exactly new; it was the same as all the others, with the main character being Vernon Dursley. But, he had been so certain the nightmares would stop after speaking with Severus earlier. It was frustrating that he couldn’t even get rid of the damn things. Constantly waking up in terror was beginning to get tiresome.

“If I go to sleep,” he said, eyes still on the floor. “I’ll have another nightmare. I don’t want them, dad…” he trailed off, suddenly wondering whether or not speaking so freely to his father was the best idea. What if he thought he was weak and couldn’t deal with certain situations on his own? What if the older man decided his constant whining was too much for him to take and threw him out? He looked up at his father and was alarmed to see another face blurring in and out of focus where Severus’ face should be.

Harry took a faltering step backwards, his wide green eyes stark in terror.

“Harry?” asked the blurry figure, taking a step towards the frightened teen. Harry shook his head in an attempt to clear it. When he next looked up, his father was looking at him in deep concern. “Are you all right?” Severus asked, placing his hands on Harry’s shoulders.

With a ragged breath, Harry nodded his head uncertainly. What the hell was that?

Severus looked disbelieving. “I don’t quite think you are. You were frightened of me for a moment. Why?” he asked, his grip tightening on Harry’s thin shoulders.

Staring into his father’s worried eyes, Harry finally realized something was wrong with him. He had grown so exhausted that he was beginning to forget that this was Severus, his father, and not his horrible Uncle Vernon. It was a shocking revelation, one he wasn’t sure he was ready to deal with. How could he ever mistake the two? It wasn’t as if his father was an abusive psychopath with nothing that pleased him more than hurting someone under his care, namely Harry. Snape would never strike him, not intentionally.

As his father grew more and more worried over his son’s silence, Harry was trying desperately to gain the courage it would take to talk to his father about one more obstacle in his life. Why couldn’t things be more simple? Why couldn’t he just have a normal life without having to face the things that still haunted him from his past?

Severus lightly shook the boy’s shoulders as his emerald eyes began to grow dull. “Harry?”

Harry blinked. “Yeah?” he asked, staring up at the taller man.

Looking worried for his son, Severus turned the boy around and steered him into Harry’s bedroom. “Have a seat,” he indicated the bed, but Harry refused. He sat in an armchair that faced the fireplace instead. There was no fire lit at the moment, and instinctively, Severus waved his wand and the flames began to flick wildly to life before them. “Tell me what just happened,” it was more of a command and Harry wasn’t inclined to disobey his father, not when he kept drifting between what was real and what wasn’t.

“For a moment, I thought I saw my Uncle and not you,” he said tiredly, his gaze directed at the fire burning in front of him.

Severus was silent, taking in all that Harry had just said. This was unexpected and very disconcerting. What had caused Harry to see his Uncle before him instead of his own father? Had he frightened him unknowingly? The thought was a disturbing one, as he never wanted Harry to have cause to fear him again. “What made you think I was your Uncle?” he asked slowly.

Harry had been twisting his hand nervously in the baggy material of his jeans, but paused as he ran the question through his mind. He hadn’t exactly thought Severus was his Uncle. He had grown self-conscious for a moment, believing Severus would want to be rid of him, which was unfathomable for him to consider with his father, and had therefore thought of his Uncle. That was something Vernon would have done, and instantaneously, the vision of the one he feared above all else had appeared before him.

As he tried to explain his jumbled thoughts to his father, Severus transfigured the chair into a two-seated plush sofa and took a seat beside his son. Placing his arm around the boy’s shoulders, he could feel him tense up at the touch. After hearing the teen’s explanation on what had happened out in the hallway he grew increasingly concerned for his son’s growing exhaustion. How he wished Harry had never been left with those deplorable Muggles. If only he’d been able to get to know Harry sooner, maybe he could have saved his child from such a horrible childhood. It was entirely too late now, as the damage had already been done. And he despised himself for only making it worse all throughout Harry’s school years. Thank goodness he had seen the light, so to say, and taken the boy away from that bloody excuse of an Uncle.

He wasn’t sure how to approach the subject, now that he had found out what the boy had seen. It must have been frightening, where once stood your father, suddenly your abusive Uncle stood instead. How would one handle that type of situation? “Son, your Uncle is not here, nor will he ever be allowed inside. Your exhaustion is playing havoc on your emotions, but you must know that I would never react to anything you might do as your relatives have in the past. You are safe here and I will never allow you to be hurt if I can possibly help it. Now, perhaps it would help both of us to understand what set this off if you tell me what you were thinking when you thought your Uncle was here instead of myself?”

Severus knew he was treading on dangerous ground, as discussion of Harry’s Uncle had always been a sore spot where the boy was concerned. But he had to do whatever it took to help his son, including asking upsetting questions.

Harry tensed once more at the question and nearly pulled out of his father’s arm still lying prone across the back of his shoulders. Severus stopped that by pulling the boy flush up against his side and halting any further movement. “Tell me,” he instructed, pulling one hand through the boy’s messy locks in an effort to calm and relax him.

When Harry started speaking, he figured the technique had worked rather well.

“I thought if I was complaining too much you’d want rid of me. Stupid, I know, I can completely see that now, but at the time it seemed reasonable enough.”

Severus sighed. How could the boy think getting rid of him would be considered reasonable at any point or time? The thought had never crossed his mind, never, not once, and he told the boy as much.

“I know you would never throw me out, but at the time I didn’t think you were you. I thought for the briefest of moments that you were my Uncle, remember?”

Severus didn’t think it would be too likely for him to forget it anytime soon. It was still disturbing him that his son would think, even if it were for a moment, that he was his Uncle. It was alarming to say the least. “I’m not you’re Uncle, nor will I ever treat you as he did,” he thought to point out the obvious in case Harry needed clarification.

Harry looked at the man as if he’d lost his mind. “I realize that,” he said slowly.

“I thought perhaps you didn’t,” Severus reiterated quietly.

Anything Harry had been about to say was cut off when he suddenly grasped his head and moaned. “Not again,” he whispered, clutching the bedcovers with one hand in a valiant attempt at not clawing at his forehead. It was one of those headaches that seemed to debilitate him for days if not caught in time. Severus was up and moving before Harry had even finished speaking, rummaging through one of Harry’s bedside table drawers before finding what he was looking for.

Leaning over the child, he tilted Harry’s head back and poured the liquid down his throat, as Harry was never in any fit state to assist him when in such pain. Severus worried about what it was that caused these fits, and assumed it had something to do with the way he had killed Voldemort. It was a project he was still working on, discovering the reasons for these headaches and developing whatever potion it took to stop them.

As the pain receded, Harry sat up fully in the chair, still rubbing at his aching head. It wasn’t throbbing from his scar; otherwise he’d be worried. No, instead it was a pain that resonated all throughout his head, but mainly focused behind his eyes. It was almost as bad as the vision-induced headaches he used to have when Voldemort was still around, luckily that was no longer the case. Although the headaches were horrible in their intensity, there was no horrifying vision that accompanied them; he had to look at the bright points in this kind of thing.

“Better now?” Severus, watching him carefully as he placed the now empty vial back on the nightstand, settled down beside his son once more.

Harry shrugged. He’d felt better, that was for sure. And if he’d been sleepy before, he was down right exhausted now, with nothing on his mind than sleep, even if he didn’t want it one single bit. “I think I’m ready to get some rest now,” he said slowly, dreading it, but knowing he’d pass out if he didn’t lie down soon. The headaches always wore him out physically and emotionally.

Sighing, Snape stood up and helped Harry into bed. “I would give you a sleeping draught, but as you’ve had one already today it wouldn’t be wise. Do you think you’ll be able to go without?” he asked, genuinely concerned the teenager wouldn’t make it through the night without being subjected to yet another nightmare.

“I think I’ll survive,” he wryly rejected the offer with a bit of a smile. Severus knew Harry was only trying to lighten the mood, but the fear in his child’s eyes told him otherwise.

“I could stay?” he offered casually.

He saw the wheels turning in Harry’s eyes, and he thought he might be actually considering it. Whereas Harry was on his own to wake himself up from a nightmare, if Severus was there he would be able to wake him before it ever got too bad. But Harry eventually shook his head.

“I’ll be fine,” he finally said, lying back against his pillows and pulling the covers up to his chin, almost in a protective gesture, or so Severus thought.

“You’re sure?” he tried one last time, even knowing Harry would refuse.

“Yes. I doubt I’ll have another one,” he said in the most convincing voice he could muster, which wasn’t much.

“Very well. If you do happen to have another one, wake me.” Harry merely nodded. “Goodnight, then,” he said, slowly exiting the bedroom and walking down the hall to his own.

……………………………….

If Harry had another nightmare, Severus was none the wiser. He never heard another peep from the boy throughout the entire night, and now sunlight was rising just beyond the horizon and Harry was still asleep. Thank Merlin.

Sitting down at the dining room table, Severus picked up the Daily Prophet from where it awaited for him. Cella was always prompt with his paper and morning cup of tea. He was in the middle of turning a page and taking a sip simultaneously when he heard the fireplace in his study roar to life and then a resounding thud. He calmly placed the cup back on the table and lowered his paper.

“Black. What are you doing in my home at such an atrocious hour?” he asked, clearly not pleased with his early morning visitor. He hadn’t even finished his tea yet!

Said man stepped out of Severus’ study and into the dining room where Snape finally set eyes on him for the first time. “How’d you know it was me?”

Severus stared. “Wild guess,” he said, deadpan.

Sirius ignored the man’s sour mood and sat down across from him. “Got anymore of that?” he asked, indicating Severus’ nearly empty teacup.

“No,” he said bluntly, but was contradicted almost immediately as Cella appeared and placed a steaming cup in front of Sirius, who looked smug. Severus glared at the house-elf. Cella was undisturbed and glared right back. “We have plenty of tea!” she exclaimed before storming out of the room. Snape wondered what had her in such a mood, but couldn’t really be bothered to wonder for more than a few seconds.

“Where’s Harry?”

“Where do you think? He’s upstairs sleeping, like most normal people do at this hour,” he said dryly, staring Sirius down hoping he’d take the hint and go home.

“You’re awake,” the man pointed out, smiling.

Severus sneered. “I’m in no mood to deal with you, Black. Kindly finish your tea and get out,” he demanded, slamming his own cup down on the table. “Better yet, forego the tea and just get out.”

“I thought you two weren’t going to fight anymore,” said a quiet voice from behind them. Both men’s heads shot up and turned in the same instant, landing on the small figure standing in the doorway.

“We weren’t fighting,” intoned Sirius, looking back and forth between the father and son. “We were just…”

“Fighting,” Harry helpfully supplied.

“Well…” Sirius was obviously at a loss for words and turned around and stared at his cup in wonderment. Harry smiled.

“What are you doing here so early? I thought you liked to sleep in?” asked Harry.

Severus smirked. “He came to annoy me,” he said quietly to himself but Harry heard him despite the whispered words.

Harry shrugged. “Probably,” he grinned at the look on his father’s face. “Do we have anymore tea?” asked Harry, taking a seat beside his father. Cella immediately appeared with another steaming cup of tea, still glaring at his father. “What’s wrong with her?”

“I have no idea,” said Severus, focusing his attention back on his paper.

Harry just looked between the two men with a shrug. “What’s for breakfast?” he asked.

“I believe Cella will decide what the meal will be. I’m not so sure she’s too happy with me this morning, although I’m not entirely sure why she’s angry. Either way, you’ll have to speak with her about your breakfast,” Severus stated, taking another sip of his tea.

“Oh.” Harry called for Cella in order to ask.

“Sleep well?” asked Sirius, trying to look nonchalant and failing miserably.

Harry looked at him nervously and nearly jumped out of his seat when his father cleared his throat loudly. Harry looked at him and noticed the look he was receiving. “I had another nightmare,” he finally muttered.

Sirius sighed and put a reassuring hand on his godson’s shoulder. “They won’t last forever, Harry,” he said encouragingly.

“Yeah, I guess not,” he said.

“What was it about?” asked Sirius, causing Harry to stare at him once more than morning.

“My Uncle…what else would it be about?” he asked scathingly, but the heat in his voice wasn’t directed at Sirius, but at himself.

Severus looked up from his paper.

“What was happening this time?” asked Sirius, sticking with the tread of the conversation, much to Harry’s irritation.

“Use your imagination,” said Harry, and was instantly up from the table. He thought he’d go help Cella with their morning meal and avoid all these damn questions. Killing two birds with one stone, if you will.

Before the door swung shut behind him, he heard his father. “Brilliant use of tact, Black.” The door swung closed.

…………………………….

“Can I go visit Draco?” asked Harry out of the blue.

Severus glanced up from the potion he was making. “Perhaps another time, Harry. I don’t want you to visit Malfoy Manor without an escort,” he said casually, stirring the potion counter clockwise as he watched his son.

“I could take him,” offered Sirius, who still hadn’t left and was bored out of his mind. He wanted to spend time with his godson, and if going to visit the Malfoy boy got the two of them out of Snape’s hair, then so be it.

Severus stared. “Somehow that doesn’t leave me feeling any better.”

“Dad!”

“All right, you may go, so long as your Godfather sticks with you every step of the way,” he instructed, leveling his intense gaze at Sirius and not Harry.

“He will!” exclaimed Harry.

“Lovely,” replied Severus sarcastically. “I expect you back before dinner,” he thought to add.

Harry nodded as he and Sirius walked out of the laboratory and into Severus’ study. “Let me go first,” stated Sirius. At Harry’s questioning look, he clarified, “Just as a precautionary measure.”

Soon after found Harry tumbling out of the fireplace and straight into his godfather’s arms. “Thanks for that.” It would have been entirely too embarrassing to fall flat on is face, especially with Draco Malfoy standing right in front of him. “Hey, Draco!” he greeted happily.

The teen looked stunned to say the least. “What are you doing here?” he asked, looking a bit nervous.

“I thought I’d stop by and visit you,” said Harry, watching his friend suspiciously. “Are you all right?” he asked. Draco looked worn down and worried.

“Yeah, fine,” he answered quickly, ushering them more fully into the parlor they had stumbled into. Harry finally got the chance to look around and was amazed at how gorgeous Malfoy’s home was. It was more elegant than Snape Manor, but it also had a colder air to it.

“Is it all right that we’re here?” asked Sirius. He didn’t want an enraged Narcissa Malfoy coming down on them. “Your mother won’t mind?”

Draco shifted on his feet. “No, she won’t mind. She’s visiting my grandmother and won’t be home until this evening.”

Harry smiled cheerfully at his friend, walked towards him and grabbed his sleeve, pulling him towards the stairs. “Don’t just stand there, show me around this place. It’s even bigger than our house,” he thought to add as Draco was looking at him oddly.

“Okay…” he muttered. Harry was getting a very weird feeling off of Malfoy but didn’t know what could be causing it. He’d had an odd sense of apprehension after reading the boy’s letter and now he was acting off kilter. Sirius had wondered off into another section of the house and as soon as the man was out of earshot, Harry pulled Draco to a stop.

“Is everything okay?” he asked quietly. He suddenly had an awful idea. “Your father isn’t hiding here, is he?” he asked, fear lighting up his eyes.

Draco actually laughed at that. “No! Stop being so paranoid, Potter. He’s still in Azkaban, and Merlin permitting, he’ll stay there for the rest of his life.”

Harry sighed in relief before looking sheepishly at his friend. “Sorry, you just seemed distant and I thought something might be going on,” he said.

Draco shrugged. “Nothing’s going on. No evil plots are afoot. You seriously need to calm down with your ideas of depraved schemes at every turn,” he said, jokingly.

Grinning along with the teen, Harry followed him through the long corridors and ceaseless bedchambers, wondering what had gotten him all riled up in the first place. Draco was acting just as he always did, now at least. But, something had definitely been off when they’d first arrived. Deciding not to worry about it any longer, Harry continued to follow his friend into every nook and cranny of Malfoy’s beautiful yet eerie manor.

Harry was completely and utterly lost as they walked down a corridor far away from where they had first entered. “Where are we going?” he asked. He’d wanted to see Draco’s room and asked the boy as such. But surely he didn’t stay all the way down here, did he? It was so dark and depressing, he couldn’t imagine walking to his bedroom every night, if this was truly where the boy slept.

“My room,” he said as if it was normal to be living down here.

“But it’s so creepy.”

Draco laughed. “This entire Manor is ‘creepy’. But at least down here I’m as far away from my parents as I can get,” he added darkly. “I asked to be moved down here.”

“What?” Harry was shocked. “Why on earth would you do that?”

“I already told you, Potter. Pay attention.”

Harry paused and glanced towards the teen walking beside him. Draco’s face was barely illuminated by the lantern they were forced to bring just to see properly. There were no windows in this part of the manor and it was nearly impossible to see without some kind of candle.

“Were your parents that bad?” he asked, already knowing Malfoy’s father was a bastard, but surely not his mother. She’d seemed cool and uncaring the one time he’d seen her at the Quidditch World Cup, but surely that was just a front. But looking back at Draco’s face he wasn’t so sure anymore.

“Yes, they were pretty bad. My father was worse than my mother; she just ignores my existence.”

Harry sighed. “Yeah, I saw first hand what your father was like,” he stated, recalling the night Draco had shown up in his kitchen after his father had beaten the hell out of him. He wasn’t likely to forget. “Your mum wasn’t like that?” he asked carefully.

“No.”

Harry nodded. “She’s not like that now?” he asked again quietly, wondering if in the lack of Malfoy senior’s presence, the woman would haul off and hit her son. It had been known to happen.

Draco glanced at him. “No,” he said slowly. “What’s with all the questions?”

“Not sure.” Harry shrugged.

They had stopped moving a while ago, but Harry had been too preoccupied to notice. A door stood ajar before them and Harry finally glanced inside. “This is your room?” he asked.

Draco nodded. “The one and only.”

Harry grinned. “Wow, it’s big,” he said slowly, somehow imagining the room to be more like a dungeon than an actual bedroom by the way Draco had been talking. It was just as elaborate as the rest of the house, only with a more teenaged style. It was obvious to the Gryffindor that the room hadn’t been used in a while. Harry stored that thought away for later perusal.

“Oh yes, it’s the largest room in the manor. Get a grip, Potter, this is small compared to some of the other chambers, and especially compared to my parent’s bedchamber. I would show you, but I’m not allowed inside.”

Harry glanced at him. “Even when you were younger?”

“Why would I go in there when I was younger?” asked Malfoy, looking aghast.

“A bad dream or you were scared?” Harry pointed out with a raised brow.

Draco scoffed. “I never went to them for anything. I knew better. Besides, I was never scared or had bad dreams.”

Harry doubted that but didn’t say as much.

“Want to come have dinner with us?” he asked suddenly, taking the other boy by surprise.

Staring at him blankly, Malfoy shrugged his shoulders. “Why?”

“It’s what friends do,” Harry remarked slowly as he thought his friend was being entirely too thick at the moment.

“Oh, well…okay.”

The two walked back down to the parlor and found Sirius pacing anxiously. “There you two are. I was beginning to wonder if the house had swallowed you whole or something,” he said, uncharacteristically worried for the both of them. Harry stared at his godfather curiously.

“I invited Draco for dinner, and seeing as how it’s almost time…” he trailed off pointing to his watch.

“Ah, ready to go then?” he asked. Harry and Draco nodded. Without a backward glance at his home, Draco disappeared into the fireplace after the others.

…………………….

The instant the hot meal was set before him Draco began shoving it down as if he hadn’t eaten in over a week. The other three stared at him. After a moment, Draco seemed to feel their gaze and slowed down his eating habits before coming to a halt, looking rather embarrassed.

“It’s really good. What is it?” he asked, eyeing the chicken and pasta before him almost desperately. Harry actually felt bad that his friend felt he had to stop eating to validate his reasons for eating like he was starving. Harry wondered when the last time he’d had a descent meal.

“Chicken Vino Blanco,” stated Severus offhandedly, he was more interested in watching his godson fixedly. Then his father fixed upon the question he’d just been wondering himself. “When was the last time you ate, Draco?” Severus looked mildly irritated.

Malfoy dropped his fork as if burned. “Why?” he asked.

“Because if you ate any faster you’d be inhaling your food, child. Now, answer the question,” he demanded, but his tone inflected concern, which calmed Draco considerably.

“I just haven’t been hungry,” he said, shrugging off their concern. “It’s boring eating by myself anyways.”

“Where’s your mother?” Severus still wasn’t buying Draco’s attempts at dismissing his concerns.

“With grandmother. She’ll be back tonight.”

“I’ll be wanting to speak with her then.” Severus was angry, that much was obvious. He was angry at Narcissa Malfoy and her lack of care when dealing with her son.

Draco blinked twice before nodding. “I’ll let her know.”

“You do that.”

Harry watched silently as Draco retook his fork and began eating at a more sedate pace. Something was going on, he just didn’t know what. Looking at his father, he could tell he thought the same thing. And even more surprising was the way Sirius kept looking at Malfoy as if he knew something the rest of them didn’t. What was going on? he wondered.

……………………………

Later that evening, Sirius and Harry took Draco back to Malfoy Manor. Harry didn’t like leaving him there all on his own, even knowing his friend’s mum would be home soon. That wouldn’t change things at all. Draco would still be by himself with a mother who didn’t want him around.

“Why don’t you come back over tomorrow?” asked Harry, hating the thought of the teen spending all his summer by himself and feeling unwanted and lonely. He knew those emotions only too well.

Draco shrugged. “I might.”

Harry shrugged as well. “I’ll expect you then.”

“I didn’t even say I was coming yet!” exclaimed Malfoy, looking shocked.

“So?”

Draco remained speechless. “Okay, I’ll be there.”

“Good. See you tomorrow, Malfoy.”

“Bye, Potter.”

Harry watched the boy swirl out of sight as he dropped the floo powder before re-emerging in his father’s study. Sirius was already waiting for him as he’d gone first.

“I need to speak with your father, Harry. I’ll be right back.”

Harry nodded though he had no idea why Sirius would voluntarily speak to his dad for. He suddenly wondered about the look Sirius had been giving Draco all evening long, as if he knew something. Maybe that was the reason he wanted to speak to his dad. Feeling sneaky, Harry crept down to the laboratory and placed his ear quietly against the door. It was during times like these that he wished he had one of those Extendable Ears Fred and George had made.

It was nearly impossible to hear a word they were saying through the thick wooden door. Standing up in defeat, he resolved to ask his father later when Sirius was gone. Instead he went upstairs and got ready for bed, hoping he’d make it through the night without another bloody nightmare.

Severus looked up as his son’s godfather came barging through his door.

“Can I help you, Black?” he asked blandly. He was making another pain relieving potion for Harry, knowing they’d just about reached their limit on the ones still in various places throughout the Manor. He’d charmed the vials to alert him whenever they were empty, and as of currently, most bottles in the house were now depleted. It concerned him that Harry had been having so many headaches, some he didn’t even know about. He would speak with his son tomorrow; for now he hoped the boy was sleeping.

“I need to discuss the Malfoy boy with you,” he stated hastily, and Severus momentarily stopped stirring in his shocked surprise.

“Why on earth for?”

“I have a suspicion, but I wanted to speak with you first before coming to any conclusions,” he supplied the man, looking questioningly. “How long have you known Narcissa Malfoy?”

Severus stared, beginning to grow suspicious. “What kind of question is that? I’ve known her for years, ever since she and Lucius were married. Why?”

“Would she abandon her son?” he asked, his posture rigid and tense, as if treading on thin ice and knowing it.

Completely giving up on the potion, Severus stood and faced the man he was trying desperately not to hex. “That’s the most absurd thing that has ever come from your mouth, Black. Narcissa would rather die before leaving her son. What in the hell are you playing at?” he asked menacingly.

Sirius raised his hands placatingly. “I have reason to believe she has. Abandoned him, I mean!” he said quickly at Severus’ startled look, thinking Narcissa had died.

Severus watched the man warily, wondering what this belief was based upon. “Tell me.” He knew Sirius and Harry had gone to get his godson, perhaps the idiot Black had actually seen something while they were there.

“When we arrived, Harry and Malfoy went wandering off. I believe he was giving Harry a tour. While they were exploring, I decided to see if I could still find my way around the place. When I was younger, my parents would always take us to these really boring parties at Malfoy Manor, when Lucius was still a kid. Well, I knew my way around pretty well, so I went to the kitchens to see if there was anything I could grab to snack on while I waited for the boys,” he paused briefly at Severus’ bemused snort. “Back to the story,” he said sharply. “When I went inside it was empty.”

Severus sat quietly, waiting for the plot of the story. As no such plot was forthcoming, Severus crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “Well? Do you expect the House Elves to stay in the kitchen all day? They do have chores around the Manor that Lucius and Narcissa can’t possibly do themselves, like cleaning,” he said slowly.

Sirius glared. “Not empty of people! Empty of everything! Not only were the house elves gone, there was no food, no drinks, there was nothing!” he exclaimed, looking irritated that Severus hadn’t caught on sooner. “Then I went to the Master bedroom. Same thing as in the kitchen, everything was gone! There was nothing left in the closets or in the drawers. I looked in some other rooms on my way back downstairs, anything that belonged to Narcissa or was valuable was missing. She’s left, Snape, and she’s taken everything with her that she considers valuable or that she doesn’t want her husband to have,” he sighed then. “But I think she left Draco.”

Shaking his head, Severus lowered himself back onto the work stool. “What?” he asked, either not comprehending what was said or not able to believe it. “She couldn’t have left him. She loves him. I’ve seen her dote on that boy and spoil him absolutely rotten.”

Sirius sighed once more. “Some public displays are much different from those shown behind closed doors. My mother behaved as though I was the most wonderful child while we were out in public or with her friends. When we were at home, she was sure to let me know I was a disgrace to the family name. I ran away from all of that, Malfoy might not have had that luxury. We need to check.”

“We?”

“Yes, we. I found out about this whole damn thing, now I’d like to finish it. If there’s some big mistake, and all of her things are missing because of a massive yard sale, “ he laughed at Severus’ confused look. “Muggle thing,” he told the man before jumping straight back into the story. “I’ll apologize and never say another word. But, you’ve got to admit, it’s rather suspicious, don’t you think? And, Draco said she’d be coming home tonight. Well, she would be there by now if that were true. And if not, we can’t leave the boy there without any food and nothing to drink.”

Severus groaned at the absurdity of it all. “Very well. I’ll come with you, but I highly doubt what you are thinking is true. I can’t imagine Narcissa not loving Draco. Her husband, on the other hand, I can believe it only all too well.”

The two men stood and quickly made their way to the fireplace. “I hope you’re right,” said Sirius quietly.

Severus nodded, hoping he was right as well.

……………………………….

Stepping out of the fireplace, Sirius looked around and saw Severus standing in the middle of the foyer. He was staring at the walls and beginning to look worried. “You’re right, some of the more expensive portraits are missing from the walls,” he said, indicating a blank spot on the wall before him.

Sirius nodding, frowning. He really had hoped he was wrong, but it was beginning to seem he’d hoped in vain.

“Draco!” yelled Severus. He couldn’t decide on whether to be enraged or deeply upset. He was angry with Narcissa if she really had abandoned her son, and he was upset that Draco hadn’t felt like he could tell anyone.

They both heard thudding steps rushing down the staircase and suddenly there was Draco, looking worried.

“What?” he asked, wringing his hands together. “Is something wrong?”

Severus sighed for the umpteenth time that night. “Yes, clearly, something is very wrong.”

Draco blanched. “What are you talking about?” he asked, startled.

“Where’s your mother?”

“S-she’s not home yet,” he said quickly.

Severus was decidedly unimpressed. “I’ve known you since you were an infant, Draco. Speak the truth.”

Malfoy, for his part, stared his godfather in the face, and spoke once more. “I’m not lying. She’s not home yet, perhaps she’s running late.”

“If that were the case, why have all of your priceless antiques and family heirlooms disappeared from the house, Draco? Your mother would never part with those items, and she’d certainly never take them from the house unless she no longer resided there,” he questioned his godson.

Draco looked around the room, as if just noticing what was missing. His face fell as he looked back towards Severus. “I thought she would come back for me,” he said sadly. “She came back, but not for me. For her stupid heirlooms!” he gasped out, his entire body trembling as he rushed from room to room, looking for the things she’d had taken from him, from his family. He stopped suddenly as he came across the Master bedroom. One of the rooms he’d never been allowed to enter unless asked. Raising his hand, he gently pushed the door open and stared in dismay.

He’d seen this room in all its magnificent glory while his parents were still living there. None of the wonderful artwork and furniture remained any longer. She had left him. “How could I have been so stupid?” he asked no one in particular. “She promised she’d come back.” Draco was devastated, and unable to stand any longer, slid down to the floor, continuing to stare into his parent’s empty bedchamber.

“Draco?” Severus knelt down beside the teen and placed an arm around his shoulders.

“I knew she was lying,” he blurted suddenly, but instead of sounding angry, as Severus would have expected, he remained morose. “I’ve known for a long time she didn’t want me. I was just deluding myself if I actually believed for a second she’d stay true to those words. She came back, but not for me,” he repeated.

Severus couldn’t wait a second longer and enveloped his godson in his strong arms. “I’m terribly sorry, Draco. I had no idea she treated you this way,” he whispered into his soft, blonde hair. “If I’d only known…” he trailed off, realizing they’d kept it a secret from everyone. He’d never have gotten a chance to realize what was happening behind closed doors.

“She only pretended to care about me, Severus. She never did. Neither did father. I know that now, but it still hurts,” he whispered disconsolately. He looked up and jerked as he saw another figure standing in the hallway. “What are you doing here?” he asked, knowing he was Harry’s godfather. He still wasn’t too pleased with the man standing in the shadows as he poured his heart out, thinking he was saying these things in confidence.

Sirius shrugged. “I’m the one who tipped Snape off, actually. Sorry if you were trying to keep it a secret, but this is the type of secret you shouldn’t keep. It was dangerous,” he said.

Draco stared. “Yeah.”

Sirius shrugged once more.

“Come, I’ll speak with Albus in the morning, but until then, you’re coming with us,” instructed Severus, standing from his position on the floor, as it was really beginning to hurt.

Draco was in no position to refuse.

……………………………………..

Severus put Draco in the room he normally stayed in whenever he came to visit. After dosing the teen with a healthy dose of Dreamless Sleep, he stood by the bed and observed his godson. He had been blind not to see what was happening before his very eyes. It was so obvious, looking back, how distant Narcissa had always acted around her own son. There may have been what appeared to be love in her behavior, but it had all been an act. So many years had already past with Draco growing up in a loveless home.

That thought led him directly to Harry. He wondered how the boys would react to knowing they had so much in common.

Silently shutting the door behind him, he quickly made his way to Harry’s bedroom down the hall. He felt bad now for leaving without telling the boy where he was going, but he was almost positive his son had already been deeply asleep when they’d left. But, what if he’d had a nightmare, or another headache?

Slowly peeking into Harry’s room so as not to be noticed, he made out the outline of Harry’s small shape under the covers of the four-poster bed. He was asleep and seemed to be doing so peacefully. Thank goodness. Slipping quietly into the room, he advanced on the bed and sat down in the plush armchair that sat beside it and stared at his son.

Harry was sleeping curled up on his left side, facing Severus, with his arm curled under his pillow to support his head. He looked so peaceful while he slept, and much more vulnerable. Severus reached out and gently swept a loose strand of hair out of his son’s face and tucked it behind his ear. Harry shifted in his sleep and leant into the comforting touch now lying against his cool cheek.

Smiling, Severus sat for a moment longer before removing his hand and standing up. He tucked the covers more fully around the boy’s shoulders and went to leave the room. He’d taken only a single step out the door when he heard it…a whimper. Turning back around, he sighed painfully as he watched Harry’s once relaxed form tense up and curl more deeply into itself. An agonized moan brought him to action and he was instantly at his son’s side.

”Harry?” he called gently, hoping to end the nightmare before it went into full swing. It seemed too late for that though, as Harry recoiled violently from the hand he had gently placed on his shoulder.

“No,” he moaned, pressing his head against his pillow in an attempt to protect himself from whatever he was seeing in his dream.

Severus sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed Harry’s hands. “Harry, it’s Dad. Wake up now.”

Harry wrenched his hands out of his father’s grasp and flipped onto his other side. “Leave me…alone. Please,” he gasped, his small frame shuddering violently. Severus felt his heart clench in pain.

“Harry,” he whispered, grabbing his shoulders. “Wake up.”

“Uncle, no…don’t.”

Severus nearly recoiled before realizing Harry didn’t know what he was saying. He leaned forward and pulled his son into his arms, with Harry resisting the whole way.

“NO!” he screamed, arching his back, his limbs flying wildly. Severus held on tighter, whispering reassuring words in his son’s ear, hoping he wasn’t traumatizing the poor child for life. He quickly cast a silencing charm on the room, hoping neither Black nor Draco had heard him. The potion he’d given Draco hadn’t been as strong as it normally would be, and he just might wake up if he heard Harry’s struggles.

Harry screamed again and clawed at Severus’ face. Snape quickly grabbed his son’s wrists and held them against the boy’s chest. “Harry, please!” he yelled, wrapping his free arm around the front of Harry’s chest and holding on tightly. “It’s Severus, I’m right here. I won’t allow them to hurt you! Please, child, wake up!” he talked loudly, hoping to get through into Harry’s nightmare. “I’m right here,” he whispered again as the teen’s flailing and thrashing suddenly came to an end, only to hear a heart shattering sob issue forth from his son.

Harry twisted around and buried his head in Severus’ chest, desperately trying to reign in his tears, but to no avail. Severus wrapped his arms around Harry and held on tight. “It’s all right, Harry,” he whispered into his dark hair and prayed he told the truth. He’d never seen Harry quite so distraught before. He wondered for a moment if this was the way his son had been waking up for the past two weeks. If that was the case, it was no wonder the emerald-eyed teen hadn’t been getting any sleep.

After a few shuddering breaths, Harry was finally able to speak. “I’m sorry, Dad,” he mumbled miserably. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.” He pulled himself away and lay down on the bed, ashamed as more tears pooled in his eyes. He looked up, surprised, to see his father was lying down beside and facing him, propping his head with his hand.

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for. You had another nightmare, it was not your fault,” he stated adamantly, wiping away a tear with his thumb. He considered his child for a moment. “Would you like to tell me about it?”

Harry shook his head. “Not right now.”

Severus nodded. “Do you think you could get back to sleep?”

Harry shrugged. “Probably,” he lied. He shifted uncomfortably and buried his head in the pillow beneath him.

Long, pale fingers lifted Harry’s chin. Harry’s eyes shifted nervously. “What?” he asked.

“Will you be able to sleep?” he asked once more.

It was his son’s turn to sigh. “Probably not,” he whispered. “I don’t want another one.”

“Another nightmare?” he asked, and if the boy’s head hadn’t nodded, his haunting emerald eyes would have told the truth for him. Severus had begun to slip off the bed, but watching Harry struggle to get comfortable, watching as every time his eyes drifted shut they’d snap back open to make sure he hadn’t left, he couldn’t make himself leave. He felt awful knowing the boy would most definitely have a nightmare, and he would be safely in his own bed without the hindrance of bad dreams.

Harry was lying in the middle of the large bed, his covers up to his chin, and feeling a deep-seeded, irrational fear, that his Uncle was somewhere waiting…he knew it was absurd, but the feeling had grown stronger and stronger, the nightmares more realistic and horrifying. He knew the second his father left the room the lights would be on and no more sleep would be had for the remainder of the night. It wasn’t a very appealing thought, considering he hadn’t gotten much rest in the past weeks. He was still exhausted. His eyes drifted shut of their own accord, but as he felt the bed dip as his father began to get up, they snapped open again. No matter how many times he tried to shut them, they re-opened immediately, his fear was so intense.

“Move over,” instructed his father.

Harry looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Why?” he asked, confused.

“I will stay with you until you have fallen asleep,” he stated, his tone indicating this wasn’t an option but an order. Harry was thankful for it, too. It would be entirely too embarrassing to ask his father to stay with him, at least until he’d gone to sleep. But he didn’t think he’d be able to fall asleep without him. He nodded to his father and moved to the center of the bed. Severus lay down beside him and watched as Harry’s eyes finally drifted shut and remained that way.

About twenty minutes later, Severus was certain the boy was asleep and started to climb out of bed. Harry’s eyes immediately shot open and he looked as close to panic as he’d seen him in a long time.

“Harry!” he exclaimed, grabbing his arms and pulling him close. “I haven’t gone anywhere,” he thought to inform him.

“Don’t leave me, please?” asked Harry, his voice was so small and terrified Severus was beginning to grow anxious.

“What’s wrong, Harry?”

The boy refused to answer, burying his head once more in Severus’ robes. The older man raked his fingers through the raven-haired head that lay against his chest. A protective feeling came over Severus like he’d only felt when Harry was in grave danger or someone was hurting him, but couldn’t understand why. Deciding to ponder on these thoughts when he wasn’t quite so exhausted himself, he got comfortable on the bed, holding Harry with his right arm, and whispered in his ear. “Go to sleep, Harry. I won’t leave you tonight, I swear it.”

Harry nodded, and the boy’s father could feel an instant change in his posture as his body finally relaxed. Severus waited until he was absolutely certain Harry was asleep before leaning down and pressing a kiss to the top of his son’s head.

…………………………………………….

The next morning, Harry awoke feeling rested and content. It wasn’t a feeling he had been familiar with in a long time. He lay there for a moment, basking in his non-exhausted self before sensing a presence behind him. He stiffened before quickly rolling over, his hands balled into fists in a sudden defensive movement. He nearly fell off the bed at the sight that greeted him. Eyes wide, Harry watched his father as he slept, oblivious to the fact that his son had almost punched him.

As if a veil had been lifted from his eyes, Harry suddenly remembered every horrifying minute of last night, right up to the moment when he’d embarrassed himself totally in his father’s eyes. He sighed and placed his hands over his reddening face.

“How could I act like that in front of my own father?” he groaned to himself, trying to keep his voice low. Glancing to his side, he tried to come up with a viable reason for acting like such a pain last night. Severus had felt he had to stay with him because of his hysterics. He felt horrible; his Dad had probably stayed up forever last night just to make sure he slept peacefully. He sat up and climbed off the bed as quietly as he could manage.

Going into the bathroom, Harry stared at his reflection in the mirror. He may have gotten sleep, but he still looked like death warmed over. Turning on the faucets, Harry splashed cold water on his face. Glancing back up, the memories from his nightmare the night before began to filter into his mind and his hand nearly slipped off the sink’s basin as his knees began to buckle. Harry shook his head, clearing his thoughts, because while it may have been a horrible nightmare, his Uncle had never done something like that to him. He’d certainly remember that!

Still feeling shaky from the memory, he flipped the lid down on the toilet and sat down. He searched his memory until he had the beginnings of a mild headache, but he still couldn’t recall anything like that ever happening. A feeling of relief rushed through him and he was finally able to stand and finish getting ready for the morning.

Leaving the bathroom, he glanced at the bed and saw that it was made and that his father was no longer there. He didn’t know if he was relieved or saddened that he’d left without saying anything. But, as he stood there pondering on just that, there was a light knock on the doorframe. Turning his head, Harry saw his father standing there.

“Were you able to sleep, then?” he asked, as Harry hadn’t woken up anymore the night before.

Harry nodded his head. “Yeah, I slept great. Thanks for staying with me,” he said cautiously, still feeling guilty for making the man stay with him rather than his own bed.

“It was no problem, Harry. I would gladly do it again if it helped you,” he offered, and Harry immediately turned down the offer.

“No, I think this did the trick. I feel much better today, actually rested and everything!” he said excitedly. He didn’t want Severus to feel as if he needed him there all the time, he could handle things quite well on his own, thank you very much.

Severus smiled gently, wondering how true Harry’s statement was. “Excellent. But, just remember, the offer still stands if you were to ever need it,” he said casually. “Would you like some breakfast?” he asked, before remembering someone else would be joining them as well. “Harry, there’s something you should know.”

Harry had been so happy he’d gotten his father to believe he wouldn’t need him at night anymore that he almost didn’t notice the way his tone had changed and the words he’d just spoken. “What’s that?” he asked.

“Your godfather and I took Draco out of Malfoy Manor last night. He’ll be staying with us from now own,” he said slowly, watching Harry’s face intently for any sign of displeasure at his words. “What do you think of this?”

“Is he okay?” he asked, remembering how bizarrely he’d acted yesterday.

“He’ll be fine. There were just a few issues going on that he didn’t want known to us.”

“She was gone, wasn’t she? His mother?” he asked. He had felt how empty the Manor had seemed yesterday, cold and empty. It wasn’t hard to tell no one but Draco had been staying there.

Severus raised his brow in surprise. “Yes, she was gone,” he said slowly. “How did you know?”

“Just a guess, actually. Is he okay, though, with his mum and all?” he asked.

“As well as can be expected. I’ll let you speak with him about that matter, however. Let’s go down to breakfast, shall we?” he indicated the stairwell down the hall, and Harry took it that their conversation was over. Severus put a hand on his shoulder to steer him in the direction of the stairs, and Harry suddenly tensed at the touch.

“Harry?” asked Severus, feeling the tension in his son’s body.

Harry gently shrugged his father’s hand off his shoulder, wondering why he’d flinched like that. “Sorry,” he said regretfully. “Probably still a reaction from the nightmare,” he explained it away, to himself and his father.

Severus still looked concerned, but followed behind his son just the same. He knew he’d be checking in on his son tonight, even if Harry wasn’t aware he was there.

Down in the dining area, they discovered Sirius and Draco sitting at the table, looking extremely uncomfortable in each other’s presence.

“Hey, Draco,” he said softly, taking a seat beside him and smiling in reassurance.

Draco smiled in return, but didn’t seem entirely in his element. “Would you like some of this? It’s an omelet that Cella made, its actually pretty good,” he said, as if he’d been in disbelief just moments before. He passed a plate towards Harry and plopped a good-sized omelet onto his plate without waiting for permission. “Here, eat.”

Harry stared at Draco, a mite incredulous. “What’s with everybody shoving food down my throat?” he muttered beneath his breath. He took the plate and picked up a fork. After one bite, he had to admit it was fairly good. Eventually, he’d ended up eating half of the helping Draco had given him, while Malfoy had completely devoured his own plate.

“Good, eh? I told you so, and I’m always right.”

Harry groaned. “Wonderful,” he said, thinking to himself that with Draco around life wouldn’t be boring.

………………………………………………

At around 3 o’clock that afternoon he was surprised to hear many sets of footsteps coming down the hall to where he and Draco were sitting in the library playing Wizard’s Chess. He watched the door, wondering who it could possibly be. As the large wooden doors swung open, he heard Malfoy groan in dismay.

This could be bad, he thought to himself.

Fred and George Weasley stopped in their tracks upon witnessing Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter playing chess together, in Harry’s house. They had known Draco and Harry had been getting along with each other in school, but this was just weird. Not far behind them where Ron and Hermione.

“Hey, Harry!” greeted Hermione enthusiastically. She paused upon seeing Malfoy sitting with the boy, but continued on undeterred as he offered her a hesitant smile. “Malfoy,” she greeted casually.

Ron seemed none too pleased to see the blonde sitting with his best friend, but wasn’t going to make a scene so long as the Slytherin behaved himself. He also knew about Harry and Malfoy’s tentative friendship and wasn’t going to ruin it. If Malfoy somehow hurt Harry, then all bets were off.

The four new arrivals grabbed chairs from around other tables and dragged them to the one Harry and Draco were seated at. “Mind if we watch?” asked Ron, taking a seat beside Harry. Fred took a seat on the other side of Harry, leaving Hermione and George to sit on either side of Draco. It was obvious the blonde wasn’t too comfortable with this arrangement, but remained quiet.

It was a quiet few moments while Draco and Harry silently made their moves, with a few moments broken with Ron whispering what to do in Harry’s ear.

“Hey, that’s cheating!” yelled Draco, slamming his hand down on the table as Harry took his King, winning the game.

Harry flinched as Malfoy shoved away from the table and stalked in their direction.

“You were telling him what to do!” accused the blonde teen, shoving a finger into Ron’s chest. “That’s against the rules.”

Ron blanched at the accusation, even though it was true. “I was just helping him out! He’s absolutely hopeless at Chess!”

“That doesn’t matter! You were cheating. That game doesn’t count!” he yelled again, his face close enough to Ron’s that they were almost touching nose to nose.

“Get over it, Malfoy!” yelled Ron in return. “Nobody cares that you didn’t win one stupid game!”

Hermione stood up to get away from the fray, leaving Harry in the middle of the two enraged teenagers standing above his seated form.

“Uh, guys?” he said quietly, and hesitantly stood up. Even at full height, Harry barely came up to Malfoy and Ron’s chins, and neither was inclined to notice him at the moment. “Hey, stop fighting, you two!” he tried again, louder. Still, he was ignored. Well, since talking had failed, he put one hand on either boy’s chest and shoved them apart. “Would you two knock it off!” he yelled.

They both stared at him for all of two seconds before advancing on each other again. This time, when Harry got in the middle, they each took an arm and pushed him away.

Harry was startled when he found himself in the hold of his two friends, and even more startled when they shoved him away, causing him to fall backwards. His legs caught on a chair and he flipped over it, slamming his head against a nearby table before smacking it again on the stone floor, as the rest of his body came down on his side. The wind was knocked out of him and for a heart-sinking moment, he forgot where he was.

“Harry!” he heard someone call his name, but was in too much pain to care. Until hands were touching his side and he opened his mouth to scream, but he still couldn’t breathe. Taking in a shuddering gasp of air, he let out as much of a scream as he could, which sounded more like a strangled whimper than anything else.

Draco immediately realized what was happening; having witnessed a panic attack before with Harry while the two had been swimming. He gently moved Hermione out of his way and knelt down beside the rolled up ball of Harry on the floor. “Harry?” he asked, making sure not to touch him. “I’m sorry we pushed you,” he said in an anguished tone. “Come on, take deep breaths. You’re fine. No one here is going to hurt you,” he whispered, feeling horrible that it was himself and the Weasley prat who had caused him harm in the first place.

Finally, after many more suggestions of deep breaths and calming words, Harry began to breathe regularly, but they couldn’t get him to unwind from his balled position. “Harry, it’s okay. No one will be pushing you again, I swear it,” stated Fred emphatically, giving both his little brother and the blonde Slytherin a glare.

Fred knelt down next to the raven-haired teen and helped lift him into a seated position after Harry had finally calmed down enough to say he was okay. A glass of water appeared in Hermione’s hand and she pressed the glass to her friend’s lips. “Take a sip, Harry,” she gently intoned. “It’ll be okay now.” She also was doling out the evil looks to the two boys.

“Sorry,” he whispered, unable to look into the faces of his friends. Here he was, showing his weakness once again.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, mate. If anyone should be apologizing, it should be me,” said Ron, looking equally as horrified as Malfoy was currently looking. “I’m so sorry, Harry. We didn’t mean to throw you over the chair! Merlin, I’m so sorry, Harry,” he apologized profusely, raising one hand to touch the back of Harry’s head. He’d barely touched him when his friend flinched away from him. He gritted his teeth and slowly lowered his hand. How could he have been such an idiot! They’d pushed Harry and they had hurt him!

Fred brushed past his brother and while Harry was watching him, leaned down and helped the boy to stand. “Let’s go see your dad, okay? You probably need something for this head of yours,” he said, smiling gently.

They’d gotten so far as the doors when Harry’s legs buckled and he went down screaming, holding his head in both his hands.

“Oh my god!” screamed Hermione, rushing to his side. Ron and Draco were looking at each other in horror, thinking they’d caused some kind of internal hemorrhage in Harry’s head or something equally horrifying, though neither was anywhere near correct.

Fred had grabbed Harry around the waist and swung him up into his arms. Harry was in too much pain to refuse. He was in too much pain to notice Fred running down the stairs, his friends following behind, each in turn looking frightened and worried.

Rushing down the last flight of stairs, Severus and Sirius met them in the foyer, having heard Harry’s screams from the dining area where they had still been talking about Draco’s predicament. Having heard screams from above them, they rushed out only for Severus to see Fred Weasley once more carrying his son to him.

He knew instantly what was ailing his child, and cursed as he realized he hadn’t finished making the fresh batch of pain-killing potion. He turned to Sirius. “Upstairs in my bedside table in the first drawer. Get his potion! Quickly!” he yelled, rushing Harry into his study and placing him on the couch. He knew the vial was only half-full and wouldn’t stop Harry’s migraine completely, but it would at least bring the pain down to a more tolerable level. And it wouldn’t help at all that he hadn’t gotten the potion into him immediately. Harry was in for an extremely rough night. How could he have forgotten that damn potion?

“You four, stay with Harry until Sirius returns with his potion. Tell him I’ll need him in the laboratory to help with Harry’s potion,” he barked, before striding out of the room, ignoring any questions they were throwing his way.

A moment later Sirius was running into the room and forcing Harry’s mouth open through the screams. He poured a thick looking substance into his mouth and massaged his throat to ensure it went down. As soon as he’d swallowed it completely his screams diminished to low gasps and whimpers, and finally into silence.

“Harry?” asked Sirius.

The boy looked up at him with pain-dulled green eyes. “Siri?” he whispered.

The teen’s godfather was brushing his hand through his hair when the boy suddenly groaned and grabbed his hand. “Harry, what is it?” he asked, hoping the potion would have done a better job than this.

Harry didn’t answer, but Fred did. “He hit his head upstairs, he’s got a nasty bump there on the side,” he said, brushing Harry’s hair out of the way for Sirius to get a good look.

“Sweet mother…that looks awful. How the hell did he get this on his head?” he asked, figuring this was what caused the boy’s headache in the first place. He also noticed a slight bruise forming at his temple now that his hair had been brushed back. He looked up at the four kids standing in the room, an angry questioning look upon his face. “What happened?”

Ron sighed, and Sirius noticed how upset he looked. “Malfoy and I got into a little argument, which turned into pushing and shoving. We pushed Harry away when he tried to stop us, and he fell over a chair,” he said sadly. “He hit his head on a table before smacking it on the floor as well. I’m so sorry, Sirius, we didn’t mean to hurt him. We’d never hurt Harry.”

Sirius sighed, knowing they hadn’t done it on purpose, but angry just the same.

“Professor Snape wanted you to help with Harry’s potion, Sirius,” interrupted Hermione quietly.

Sirius sighed, nodded, kissed Harry gently on the forehead and went to join Severus in the laboratory.

After Black had disappeared out the door, Harry’s friends surrounded him around the couch. “Are you all right?” they asked, almost as one.

Harry nodded, but instantly regretted it, as the pain in his head intensified for a minute, causing him to grip his hands in the cloth of the couch and slam his eyes shut.

“Harry?” asked Fred, anxiously. He felt a hand on his forehead, but was in no condition to knock it away. And despite that, it felt cool against his heated skin.

“I’m okay,” he finally managed to whisper as the pain receded once more to a bearable level.

“D-did we cause your headache?” asked Ron, sounding and looking miserable.

The emerald-eyed teen frowned. “I don’t think so, it might have played a factor,” he whispered hoarsely, “but they usually hit whenever they feel like it.”

His friends sat around him silently, letting his news sink in. “They usually hit whenever they feel like it?” asked Hermione, curious as to what he was talking about.

Harry groaned, realizing his mistake after he’d already made it. “They’re just headaches,” he said lightly.

“Headaches that cause you to fall to the floor and scream your head off!” exclaimed George, still looking pale from the experience upstairs. “What’s going on, Harry?”

He sighed, resigned to his fate. “We’re not sure. We think it’s some kind of left over effect from my connection to Voldemort. They’re not as bad as the ones I used to have with his visions,” he was quick to reassure at his friend’s horrified looks, “but they’re bad enough and frequent enough that my dad makes a specialized formula for them.”

“How often do you have them?” asked Hermione.

Harry shrugged, counting the amount up in his head. “I don’t know. They haven’t been too frequent, I suppose, but at least once a week.”

“Does this potion help that Professor Snape is making?” asked Ron, sitting down on the floor now.

“Yes, it takes away the pain instantly, but with only half a vial, it still hurts my head if I move around too much. I feel really sick to my stomach, actually,” he was quick to wave off his friends as they all jumped up wanting to help him. “If I move, I’ll really sick up. It will be easier just to stay where I am and hope nothing comes up,” he said slowly.

Hermione nodded her head and transfigured a big yellow bowl out of a paper holder from Severus’ desk. “Just in case,” she said, setting it beside the couch. The Weasley’s were looking at her like she’d lost her mind, but Harry knew what the bowl was for. When Dudley had been sick when they were younger, Aunt Petunia used to put him on the couch with a bowl on a tray beside him, so he wouldn’t have to get up and go to the loo if he couldn’t make it, and fussing over him hand and foot. Of course, when Harry had been so sick he was vomiting, they’d just shove him in the upstairs toilet and tell him if he made a mess he’d better clean it up.

A few minutes later Severus and Sirius came back in with a steaming goblet in one of his father’s hands. “Drink this, Harry,” he said soothingly, seeing the pinched look on his son’s face, knowing he didn’t feel well at all.

Harry swallowed the concoction down, gagging a few times, but finally it settled and he began to feel so much better. “Thanks, Dad,” he said tiredly. His headache was gone, but not totally. If they waited too long to give him the potion, a deep pain would settle just behind his eyes, causing Harry enough pain that it was nearly impossible to get anything done, but not enough to pass out on the couch if he wanted to, which he didn’t. Going to sleep meant more weird dreams, of which he wasn’t in any mood to have.

……………………………

Before the Weasley’s and Hermione had left that evening, Severus had pulled Draco and Ron into his study and shut the door behind him. That had been an hour ago. Harry was now in his bedroom with his father and his godfather.

“Do you think you’ll be able to sleep with that headache?” asked Sirius, standing beside the bed as Severus had already taken the spot sitting beside Harry.

Harry shrugged. “I’ve managed it before, so probably,” he answered truthfully.

“Can he have a Dreamless Sleep potion?” asked Sirius.

Severus shook his head. “No, it’s not a very good idea to mix potions with this one in his system. It’s highly potent,” he informed Black, as Harry already knew the consequence of taking any type of potion on top of the painkiller. He wished it weren’t so, however, as he was fairly confident there would be more nightmares for his son this night.

Sirius nodded, giving Harry a sympathetic look. “Sorry, kiddo.”

“It’s all right. I might not have one, considering how much my head hurts. I usually don’t, actually, with these headaches, as the pain is usually all encompassing,” explained Harry.

Severus hoped that was true. And as Sirius gave Harry a quick hug and left the room, he made himself more comfortable on the side of his bed.

“Sirius told me what happened earlier in the library,” said Severus suddenly, causing Harry to look up at him.

“I assumed he had, considering you pulled Ron and Draco into your study before the Weasley’s and Hermione left,” he said in answer.

“True,” he said softly. “Draco said you had a panic attack?”

Harry lightly cursed, hoping he hadn’t said anything to his father about that. “Well, just for a moment. Draco calmed me right down, I swear.”

“I have no doubt in Draco’s abilities to calm you, I am however, concerned that you had one. I understand you hit your head twice on the way to the floor,” he paused here, thinking back to the past. Then his brows raised in understanding. “What was the flashback about?” he asked gently.

Harry cursed again. He knew. “Dillard,” he muttered, but knowing the man would hear him.

Severus sighed. “Which time?” he asked carefully.

Harry looked at him, pleading with his eyes for him to just let it drop. When Severus took his hands in a reassuring way, he dropped his head, knowing he wouldn’t win this battle. “The first time.”

“We never really discussed the first time, did we?” he asked.

Harry shook his head. “No, not really,” he affirmed.

“What happened?”

Harry sighed again and shifted in the bed, turning his head away from his father. “He grabbed me and shook me before pushing me into the chair behind me. I fell and hit my face on the floor,” he shrugged. “So yeah, today reminded me of it.”

Severus growled low in his throat, but reigned in his temper. There was nothing he could do for it now; Dillard was in Ministry hands now, never to be seen again.

“I can see how the incidents were very similar,” he said, rubbing a hand across his face. He groaned into his hands, thinking back on all the times someone had hurt his son and felt the rising anger once more before shoving it back down. But this had truly been an accident. Draco and Ron would never intentionally hurt Harry, never.

“I’m tired, Dad. Do you mind if I get some rest?” he asked, sliding down under the covers. He let Severus pull them up to his chin and tuck him in.

“Do you need me to stay tonight?” he asked, wondering if the turn of events would cause him to change his mind.

“No, I’ll be okay. I need to sleep on my own anyways,” he said softly. Harry looked as if he’d rather Severus stay but wouldn’t allow himself the comfort, or maybe it was something else. Needless to say, he asked once more just to be certain.

“Are you sure you’d rather not have me stay?” he asked, trying to mask the worry he felt.

Harry immediately shook his head in a firm denial. “No thanks, I’ll be fine,” he stated emphatically. Severus didn’t know who he was trying to convince more.

“If you’re certain?” he tried again.

“Yes, Dad, I’ll be fine. It’s really late and I’d like to get some sleep,” he said suddenly. “And I’m sure you’d like a good night’s sleep in your own bed?” he added. He still felt guilty about that, making his father stay with him all night!

“If you insist.”

“I do,” said Harry.

“Very well. But remember, if you need me do not hesitate to come for me,” replied Severus, knowing the boy would not, but trying nonetheless.

“Okay.”

“Good night, Harry,” sighed Severus, and he bent down to lightly kiss the hair atop the boy’s head. He smiled when he didn’t flinch as he had earlier. “Sleep well.”

“You too, Dad.”

Harry slowly trudged his way down the seemingly never-ending staircase, tripping up a few times as his feet didn’t seem to coincide with the rest of his body. As per the usual, he’d had another sleepless night, starting only a few hours after going to sleep. Thankfully, his father hadn’t put another charm on him indicating whether or not he was sleeping. Otherwise he’d have graced him with his presence forthwith.

When he finally reached the bottom of the staircase, he noticed a familiar voice coming from behind the closed dining room doors. Normally those doors remained opened. A few moments later he realized why as a great big dog came barreling out of the room followed by a shrill scream.

”Zane!” Harry momentarily forgot his wariness and dropped down to his knees as the Rottweiler jumped onto his chest, nearly knocking him to the floor. He hadn’t seen this particular dog since the end of school term. He’d missed him terribly.

“Harry,” spoke a soft voice. Looking up, Harry saw the bottom hem of a light purple dress. Dragging his head up the rest of the way he smiled gently at the woman who stood over him.

“Good morning, Deliverance,” he said, his face still showing the warm smile at the sight of his grandmother. She wasn’t really his grandmother, at least not by blood or in any other sense, but she cared about him and that was all that mattered to Harry.

The older woman leaned down and planted a firm kiss upon his forehead. Harry had to force himself not to flinch at the sudden contact and succeeded fairly well as Deliverance stood back up and smiled at him once more.

“You look exhausted, Harry. Did you not sleep well last night?” she asked, causing the hair on Harry’s neck to stand on end. How could she tell these things so easily when concerning him? He noticed Severus standing at the edge of the room looking at him curiously. This wouldn’t do at all. Now he’d have both of them on his back for all eternity, trying to see if he was okay and forcing him to bed early.

“I’m fine, just woke up too early,” he said as an excuse. “What’s for breakfast?” He hoped they would take the bait and allow the subject to be changed. Luckily, Deliverance seemed to think he needed food more desperately than sleep, for she was soon ushering him into the dining room and gently pushing him into the nearest chair.

“I made breakfast this morning, as you can certainly see,” she pointed to the wide variety of breakfast foods on the table, causing Harry to grin. She’d always been one to cook for an army instead of a two or three person meal. Not waiting for Harry to decide what he wanted, she proceeded to heap ample amounts of each type of food on his plate. “Eat up, sweetie,” she pulled his shirt collar down, getting a good look at his small frame. “You’re still entirely too thin,” she muttered to herself, not noticing when Harry yanked his shirt out of her hand and back in place.

“I’m not that hungry,” he thought to say, but neither adult listened to what he said.

“You need to eat, Harry. You haven’t eaten a well balanced meal in quite a while,” remarked Severus, sitting down beside him at the table. His plate was decidedly less full than his own, but Harry decided to keep his mouth shut on the matter. No use in complaining when they wouldn’t even hear him out.

“Why hasn’t he been eating well?” asked Deliverance, setting her fork down on the table and staring Severus down.

Severus rolled his eyes. “Stop looking at me as if I’m starving the child myself, woman.”

Deliverance raised a brow in a startling imitation of Severus’ own brow raise. Harry wondered if he hadn’t picked it up from her at some point or another. “Don’t you speak to me with that tone, Severus Snape. You’re lucky I haven’t smacked you again for your cheek.”

Harry perked up at this. It was quite an interesting moment back during the school year when he’d actually witnessed Deliverance smacking Severus Snape upside the head. He’d never forget that, despite the somber circumstances surrounding it. He could clearly remember the scene in his head after Severus has asked Sirius and Remus to take him away. He’d gone to Del, hoping and praying not to be rejected and had gained an ally. She had confronted his father and, when the man wouldn’t listen to reason, had smacked him. He couldn’t help the grin that graced his face at the memory of Snape’s shocked expression.

Severus glared at his cousin. Harry’s grin grew larger. “I’m eating,” he said, trying to stop the argument from escalating into a full-blown fight with the two cousins. They could go at this for the entire evening if he let them. When the two looked in his direction he popped a fork-full of French toast into his mouth, grinning all the while. “See?” he raised a hand to cover his mouth, still full of food.

“That’s quite lovely, Harry,” Deliverance snickered, grabbing Harry in an affectionate half-hug from her standing position. “I have missed you,” she said suddenly, her voice sounding suspiciously teary.

Harry hugged her back, not wanting an emotional scene, but fearing he might not be able to do anything about it. “I missed you too.”

A loud noise from the foyer beyond the closed doors sent all three to their feet. “What was that?” demanded Cella, appearing in the dining area with a sudden pop.

Severus nudged open the door with his foot, his wand raised. A chair that normally sat against the wall was lying on its side on the floor, while what appeared to be a porcelain figurine of some type lay broken beside it.

“That was my mother’s!” scathed Snape silently, noticing the broken figurine on the floor. He didn’t get a chance to open the door any further before it was sent crashing towards them and a loud bark pierced their ears. Severus ended up on the floor, along with Deliverance and Cella. Harry found himself knocked to the floor a moment later when Zane once again pounced on him and began licking his face.

“Zane!” he yelled, trying to push the dog off of him but to no avail. Looking up over the enormous dog, he could see his father getting to his feet with a very annoyed expression in his face.

Harry finally managed to force Zane up and off of him and gingerly got to his feet. “Sorry, dad,” he said sheepishly. Deliverance might have brought the dog home, but it was still his dog. He was responsible for it and knew he was in trouble just by the look he was receiving from Severus.

“Take that thing outside,” demanded Severus, earning a harsh nudge in the leg from the Rottweiler as they passed. Harry would almost swear Zane was glaring at the older man. Sometimes he wondered about this dog.

……………………………………..

The wind made Harry’s hair blow haphazardly around his face as he walked out the door and onto the back terrace. Zane was still where he’d last left him, wandering about aimlessly and chasing any animals that might make the mistake of entering their back yard. The Rottweiler trotted up to him for a moment and licked his hand before running back into the nearby trees to hopefully catch the rabbit he’d just spotted. Harry frowned, hoping the rabbit got away, but made no move to get up from his spot he’d just found in the gently blowing grass.

Lying back, he watched as the clouds passed above him, sometimes taking on extremely weird shapes, such as the peanut he was now witnessing. He swore it looked exactly like Mr. Peanut from the Planters peanuts commercials. Having closed his eyes, he didn’t notice the figure that was slowly making its way out to him, but when a shadow covered his small form, his eyes shot open and a gasp halted in his throat.

“Draco!” he exclaimed, sitting up and hurriedly getting to his feet. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Sorry, I thought you heard me. How are you doing?” he asked, standing a little too close for Harry’s comfort.

“I’m fine,” he replied slowly. “How are you doing?” he thought to ask, wondering what was with all the stupid small talk.

Draco shrugged. “Fine. Are the…Weasley’s here?” he asked, clearly forcing himself to use their last names in a civilized tone rather than the hateful one he’d originally intended to use.

“No. I think Mrs. Weasley is making them do housework today. They probably won’t stop by again until tomorrow.”

“Ah, how nice,” remarked Malfoy. “Did you have any plans for today?” he asked, glancing towards the doors leading into the house. “I noticed Severus’ cousin is here.”

Harry shook his head. “I don’t think we have plans, but who knows with those two,” he indicated with his hand. “Why, did you want to hang around for a bit?” he asked, actually hoping that he would. He had the feeling Deliverance and his father would want some time to themselves to catch up and all that, and he wasn’t exactly looking forward to keeping himself company. His thoughts had been plagued with his nightmares lately and Draco could at least keep his mind off the awful thoughts with his incessant talking and whatever he would come up with this time to keep them busy.

“It’s not like I have anything else to do, or anywhere to go for that matter. I just didn’t want to intrude on you if you wanted some time to yourself,” he said casually. He still felt awful for hurting Harry the day before, and wanted to make it up to him in whatever way possible. “Why are you out here by yourself?” he finally asked, sitting down on the grass beside the other teen, albeit reluctantly.

“No reason, its just such a nice day outside, why not, you know? Besides, Zane’s out here and he looked kind of lonely at the time,” he added, pointing towards the trees where they could hear a distant bark.

“Lonely?” he asked.

“Well, that was before he saw the rabbit.”

Draco laughed. “Yes, I suppose not even your company can compare to a good hunt,” he paused for a moment. “I kind of thought your dog had gotten killed, you know, by Professor Dillard, but not Professor Dillard.”

Harry turned his head to get a better look at his friend. “Nah, he was just hurt, but Dillard didn’t bite him or anything. We were worried for a while, but he’s fine now,” he answered, remembering what David Dillard had looked like after getting turned into that thing, some kind of werewolf, presumably. The man had been bitten in the Forbidden Forest after kidnapping Harry. He shivered in remembrance of the man and all he had done to him.

“That’s good,” replied Draco, having noticed his friend shivering and decided to change the topic, but Harry beat him to the punch.

“How do you like your new room?” he suddenly asked, taking Malfoy by surprise.

“It’s not exactly new, you realize. I stay in it every time I visit with my godfather,” he said, sounding condescending, but not meaning to be.

“Sorry,” mumbled Harry, having realized this must be a difficult subject for Draco, considering the circumstances behind him staying here.

“No, it’s nothing. It’s just different, without my mother and father around to constantly pester me about school and our alliances. Mostly our alliances,” he stated, recalling all the fights he and his parents had been in, ones that had turned violent after he refused to side with them. He shuddered.

“Are you hungry?” asked Harry suddenly.

Draco knew the diversionary tactic for what it was and was grateful for it. “I could go for a snack.”

The two teens climbed from their seated position. Standing up too fast, Harry felt momentarily dizzy and nearly ended up back on the ground, but for Draco having grabbed his arms to steady him.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

Harry nodded, knowing there was more to his dizziness than just standing up too quickly. “Fine. I must have just lost my balance for a moment there.”

Draco nodded as well, but still kept close by him just in case.

Upon entering the Manor, Harry discovered the place was completely silent. “Dad?” he called out, but no reply was forthcoming. “Hmm…maybe they went out for a bit.”

Cella appeared before them then, holding one of the porcelain figures Zane had broken earlier. He noticed it now looked brand new and shining once more. “Master Snape and Madam Deliverance went into the village. If you want to later, Master Snape said you were both welcome to join them for dinner,” she explained before disappearing again without an answer.

“I’m not really in the mood to deal with the crowds down there, are you?” asked Harry, glancing at Malfoy.

“Not especially. I’d rather stay here than deal with those idiots. Besides, you’re all they talk about anyways. Every time I’ve gone into Diagon Alley I’ve heard at least ten people mention your name.”

Harry groaned. “You’re kidding!”

“You killed the most evil Dark Lord of our time, Harry. Of course I’m not kidding!”

“Oh, this is just perfect,” scathed Harry, wishing he’d been kept in the dark, but then feeling glad Draco had told him. It would have been quite the shock to enter the Village and be bombarded by questions about Voldemort.

“We’re having dinner in tonight, then?” asked Draco, heading towards the kitchen when Harry remained rooted to his spot in the foyer.

“Yeah,” whispered Harry, his mind on other things.

…………………………………….

Cella was nowhere to be found when they entered the kitchen. Harry knew she would be upset if she found out they’d made their own snack, but he wasn’t about to call her to them when she was obviously busy fixing the porcelain figures Zane had broken earlier in the morning.

“What do you want?” asked Draco, having already thrown open the cupboard door and was searching through it, occasionally throwing a few sweets out onto the counter behind him.

“Do you honestly plan to eat all of that?” asked Harry, eyeing the counter full of chocolate and candy. “You’ll definitely spoil your dinner,” he added, somehow channeling his father for a moment. He grinned sheepishly at the look Draco was giving him.

“I don’t plan on eating it all right this moment, you idiot, I plan on hiding the rest in my bedroom. It’s easier than coming down here every day when I need a sweet fix. Besides, Severus normally keeps this all behind lock and key when I’m around. I figure I’d better grab some while I still can, otherwise I’ll be stuck eating nutritious crap for the rest of the holiday,” he said, still rummaging through the cupboard.

Harry couldn’t help but laugh at the image of Draco sitting up late on his bed, eating all his candy secretly behind closed doors. “He’ll let you have some after dinners are over, you realize?”

Draco shrugged. “You never know when you’ll crave something sweet, or salty for that matter,” he muttered, throwing a bag of chips onto the counter as well. “Always better to have some on hand.”

“Whatever,” replied Harry, going over to the cold box to find something more suited to his tastes. Suddenly craving ice cream, he pulled out a container and placed it on the counter beside Draco’s stash. He normally didn’t like ice cream, but suddenly he wanted some. He looked up when he felt Draco standing beside him.

“Here,” stated Draco, handing him a bowl and spoon.

“Thanks, Dray,” he said quickly, taking the utensils out of his hands and placing them beside the container. “Would you like some?” he asked.

“No thanks, I’m good,” he said, standing still for a moment as he pondered Harry’s words. “Did you just call me Dray?”

Harry grinned. “Yes.”

“Oh,” he shrugged. “So long as you don’t refer to me as Drake, I’ll allow it.”

“Deal.”

……………………………………………

Later than evening, Harry sat on the sofa in the sitting room. Draco seemed intent on keeping by his side no matter where he went or what he did.

The room had grown chilled and he went to start a fire in the fireplace, but Draco, having noticed as well, quickly flicked his wand towards the fireplace and a few steady flames leaped into life. Harry sighed and retook his seat on the sofa, having felt a tinge of dizziness just the same. It was probably better that he not stand up only to fall back into his seat.

“I was going to do that, you know?” he said, more a statement than a question.

“I thought you were going to do it manually,” he offered, shrugging. “So I started it myself. Besides, you should probably stay seated, don’t you think? You seem awfully unbalanced today.”

Harry groaned, he’d thought he’d hidden it so well. “I’m just tired,” he answered honestly and unthinkingly. He would have cursed his stupidity if he’d had the energy, but he simply didn’t.

“It’s only eight o’clock,” he said, glancing at his watch to check. “But, maybe you should turn in early if you’re that tired?”

Harry shook his head. “No, I’ll wake up in the middle of the night if I go to sleep now,” he said, not telling the real reason for avoiding his bed.

“Suit yourself. Do you want to play Wizard’s Chess?” he asked.

“Sure, why not?” he told the blonde teen. Anything to keep him awake and his mind occupied on other things was just fine with him. “I’ll go get the board from the library,” he said and stood up.

“No, I’ll get it, you sit here,” started Draco.

“Hey, I’m capable of getting it myself, thank you very much. What’s with you today? You’ve been hovering over me like a mother hen all day!” exclaimed Harry, finally having the courage to ask his friend what was going on.

“I’m not mothering you, Harry!” he yelled, looking aghast at the mere word. “I’m just trying to be helpful!”

“Well, I don’t need you to. I can do it myself. I don’t need your help,” he said quickly. It just felt weird having Draco do everything for him. No one did it for him before and he wasn’t going to let him now.

“Sometimes you do,” answered Draco quietly. “Just sit down, Harry,” he stated when the raven-haired teen teetered on his feet.

Harry shook his head at which point Draco had had enough. Stomping over to the boy, he grabbed his shoulders and pushed him down into the chair, guiding him so the Gryffindor didn’t hurt himself. Harry jerked away from the touch.

“Harry?” asked Draco, watching concernedly.

“Fine, go get the damn Chess set,” he said hotly, refusing to meet his friends eyes.

Malfoy sighed angrily. “Fine, I will,” he stormed out of the room, not meeting Harry’s eyes.

The smaller teen groaned, this time at his own idiocy, and got up to follow after his friend. Draco didn’t deserve to be yelled at just because Harry was exhausted beyond all reason and being plagued with disconcerting nightmares.

“Draco!” he called, taking three steps before the world tilted and he found himself sitting dazedly on the floor. “This is so pathetic,” he muttered to himself, grabbing onto a nearby table and attempting to pull himself from the floor. After three unsuccessful attempts, he gave up and slumped back onto the floor, staring up at the ceiling. This was entirely too embarrassing for words.

“Harry!” exclaimed Draco. Harry heard rushing footsteps before the blonde teen was standing over his fallen form, looking extremely worried. “Are you all right?” he asked, taking Harry by the arms and helping him to sit up.

“Yeah, just got a little dizzy.”

Malfoy sighed. “I told you to rest!”

“Yes, I realize that.”

“Well, if you’d listen to me!” Draco was aghast and a little annoyed all at the same time. Didn’t Harry know when to listen to reason?

Harry shifted uncomfortably on the floor. “Help me to the couch?” he asked, and grabbed Malfoy’s outstretched hands. He had to lean more heavily on his friend than he would have liked, but eventually found himself sitting back on the comfortable sofa. He glanced up and took in Draco’s concerned visage. “I’m fine,” he muttered softly.

“Sure you are. You’ve just been on the verge of falling over all bloody day long!” he said suddenly. “What’s wrong with you? It’s not…not because of you hitting your head, is it?” he asked, looking utterly horrified at the prospect.

“No, Draco, it’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

Harry grimaced, having not wanting to get into this particular conversation. “I’ve just not been sleeping well lately,” he tried to explain and not give up too much information.

“Well, that’s obvious, Harry. You’ve looked like hell every time I come over.”

“Gee, thanks, Draco,” responded Harry, downcast.

“Sorry, Harry. It’s just, you don’t look good, and you haven’t for a while. Especially in the past week or so. Are you sure it’s just due to lack of sleep? What about those headaches? Those look…painful,” he stuttered, not knowing how else to describe them. It had been a horrifying experience, watching as Harry collapsed and screamed because of a headache.

“I suppose those play a factor for my appearance, too,” he said quickly, gladly letting the blonde believe that was the reason he looked like such a disaster lately.

“Severus will be back soon, maybe you should just take a Dreamless Sleep potion and turn in early, this way you’ll sleep all night without having to wake up in the middle of the night.”

Harry shrugged his shoulders uncertainly. “I’m not sure if I can, what with the pain reliever still in my system,” he said quietly. He’d had to take another dose of the potion this morning, as he still hadn’t been completely recovered from the remnants of his headache.

“Just the same, you should still turn in early. Does Severus know how lightheaded you get?” he asked, sitting beside Harry on the couch now.

Harry shook his head. “No, this is the first day it’s happened, really. Right after I destroyed Voldemort, I would get really woozy like this, but that’s not the case now. Just sheer exhaustion, I think.”

“Are you going to tell him?” asked Draco, truly curious if Harry would trust his father and tell him the truth. Harry had been known to keep some things to himself, especially lately.

“Yeah, I’ll tell him. I don’t want him fussing all over me like you’ve been doing today,” he mentioned, giving Malfoy a slight glare, but smiled afterwards, letting the teen know he wasn’t really upset with him. “But, I might not be able to help that.”

“No, probably not. When will they be back?” asked the Slytherin.

Harry shrugged. “Not sure.”

As if summoned by the mere mention on them, Severus and Deliverance walked into the sitting room and saw the two boys sitting on the sofa.

“Hello, Harry,” started Deliverance before she glanced at the other boy with him. “What’s your name again?”

“Draco, ma’am, Draco Malfoy.”

“Ah, yes, pleased to see you, child,” she said softly, knowing the two teens had had issues in the past but were now friends. Severus had also told her of the turn of events in the Malfoy boy’s family. To have your mother abandon you, just like that. How horrible.

“You as well, ma’am,” he replied, turning his gaze to Harry and smiled when he saw the raven-haired teen nearly asleep against the armrest. He saw Severus approach and lightly touch Harry’s arm.

“Harry?” he whispered, placing his hand gently against his son’s cheek.

Harry’s eyes snapped open and he was instantly upright. Severus sighed. “Come, let’s get you in bed,” he said softly, helping the boy to his feet.

But the Gryffindor shook his head and pulled his arm out of his father’s grasp. “No, I’m not tired yet, dad.”

Severus sighed once more. “You were just nearly asleep, Harry.”

Draco placed his hand on Harry’s arm then. “Weren’t you going to tell him something?” he asked, indicating the man who was towering over them both.

Harry glowered at his friend before turning to face his father. “I kept getting dizzy today,” he said calmly. “It wasn’t anything too bad, just a little wooziness.”

“Nothing too bad?” asked Draco, incredulous. “I found you laid out on the floor earlier. That’s what I distinctly refer to as bad.”

Turning to Malfoy, the green-eyed teen nearly spat. “Would you please keep your ideas to yourself! I told you I didn’t need your help and that goes for this as well! Just mind your own damn business!”

“Harry!” exclaimed Deliverance, reaching out and grabbing Harry’s arm. “There’s no reason to talk to him like that. He’s just trying to be your friend,” she explained, but was surprised when Harry instantly shook off her hold.

“Don’t touch me,” he said, not liking the touch, but still glaring at all three of them. He quickly left the room and rushed up the stairs for his room. He heard someone’s footsteps following him but ignored them. For once since he’d started living here, he wished he still had a door, if only to keep others out of the room, rather than him inside of it.

“Harry!” called a voice. Harry ignored his father and stormed into his bedroom. He wasn’t sure why he was so angry, and had a feeling he wouldn’t be so cranky if he wasn’t so tired, but was in no condition to consider the implications any further as a shadow suddenly stood over him. He tensed in anticipation, of what he didn’t know. It was a reflex that he wasn’t sure of the origin of.

“What?” he asked plaintively, irritated at himself for wanting to shy away from the man. What was wrong with him?

“What’s gotten into you? Are you feeling all right?” asked Severus, placing a calming hand on his son’s shoulders. They were tensed and he could feel the apprehension rolling off the teen in waves. “Harry?” he asked, suddenly worried.

Once more, Harry pulled away from his father and turned to face him. “What?” he asked again.

Severus sighed, seeing from the blank expression on his son’s face that he had shuttered himself from them. He gently cupped Harry’s face, startling the boy for an instant, but he allowed the touch this time. “You’ve been lightheaded?” he asked.

Harry nodded. “It’s not as bad now,” answered Harry, avoiding his father’s gaze.

“I’ll supply you with a potion just the same. Are you certain you are all right?” he tried to ask once more.

“Yes, I’m fine,” he answered, his voice as deadened as the look on his face.

His son needed sleep, if only he could have it without being plagued by horrifying nightmares. He sighed, wishing Harry could just have some peace for once. “I’ll get the potion and a calming potion as well. I believe it will be safe for you to take,” he said slowly, leaving the room only to return a few minutes later with both potions in hand. “Here, take this one first,” he stated, handing him one of the vials. Harry assumed it was to help with his dizziness, as the other one was obviously to calm his nerves.

Severus stayed in the room as Harry went about getting ready for bed. He disappeared into the bathroom to change into his pajamas before reemerging and climbing into his bed. Snape handed him the other vial and Harry downed it as quickly as he could. Neither potion had tasted incredibly good, they never did. Harry rolled onto his side, facing his father, his eyes already drooping from the potion as well as his own exhaustion.

“Sleep well my son,” whispered Severus, one hand brushing the stray locks of hair out of his child’s face while the other rubbed his back comfortingly. Harry was too far-gone to protest, thankfully, otherwise he didn’t think the teen would be allowing the contact. As Harry slipped completely into sleep, Severus tucked the covers nearly up to his chin before lightly kissing the boy on his forehead. It was becoming almost a nightly ritual now, the light kiss, before he could even leave the room.

Severus stood by the doorway and watched for a few more moments before finally leaving the room. He wanted to speak with Draco about the dizziness he’d witnessed Harry experiencing. And it would be nice to spend a few extra moments alone with his godson. He knew Draco needed some of his time, especially considering what happened with his mother. He sighed, standing in the hallway outside of the sitting room. He could hear Deliverance speaking with the boy but couldn’t make out what they were saying. He was suddenly grateful the woman had arrived when she did. He was going to need all the help he could get.

…………………………………..

“Did Harry go to sleep?” asked Draco as soon as Severus had stepped into the room.

“Yes, but only after a dose of a calming draught,” he muttered to himself.

“He told me he’d been having trouble sleeping,” nodded Malfoy, seemingly thinking to himself of the day’s events. Harry was truly beginning to worry him. He was becoming his one and only friend, his best friend, and he didn’t want anything happening to him. The dizzy spells from earlier in the day were a big concern weighing on his mind.

“He told you?” asked Severus, a little surprised. Harry had barely told him, and that was only after a lot of persuasion on his part.

“Well, why wouldn’t he? It was fairly obvious, he looks like the embodiment of hell.”

“Yes well, he’s been very closed mouthed about it with myself and his godfather. Even Lupin couldn’t get answers out of him for a while. I was just a bit surprised he confided in you so soon after you’d arrived,” he explained, eternally grateful that Harry could talk to someone, even if it wasn’t him. “How are you doing?” he asked, taking a seat beside his godson and changing the subject.

“Oh, fine,” he said quietly. “Have you heard anything about my mother?” he asked, knowing the man had been looking for her, along with some other Order members.

“No, I’m sorry, Draco. There’s been no trace of her so far.”

Draco nodded, having expected that. “She’s probably out of the country by now, considering where her loyalties lie. And with father in Azkaban, she’ll want to get as far away from the negative publicity as possible. And take all the money she can with her, but if father ever gets out of prison, she’ll come back,” he said, speaking quietly and more to himself than the two others in the room. His mother was cold-hearted and vicious, he’d known this for a long time, but had hoped something in her would change. Oh well, he thought, better not to dwell on things that wouldn’t change.

“Do you think-“ he stilled, not wanting to think about his mother any longer, but the thoughts were still there.

“Draco?” asked Deliverance, having debated with herself on whether or not she should stay. In the short time she’d spent with the blonde teen, she’d discovered he wasn’t as hard-core as he wanted everyone to believe, and he was beginning to show his true self as well.

“It’s nothing,” decided Draco. “It just would have been nice to have parents who actually gave a damn,” he muttered.

Severus sighed, also wishing that the Malfoys had cared for their son. He couldn’t believe he’d spent all of Draco’s life believing the front they’d put on for the public. It had all been a lie, a carefully constructed lie that no one had seemed to notice. Not until now, at least.

“I think I’m going to go turn in,” said Draco, standing up stiffly from the couch. “I’m really tired.”

Severus and Deliverance each nodded in turn, having been getting tired themselves. “Goodnight then, Draco,” he said, enveloping the teen in a quick hug before he swept out the door.

…………………………………

Draco had gotten ready for bed and was finishing brushing his teeth in the bathroom down the hall when he heard a faint sound coming from across the corridor. Quickly spitting out the toothpaste and rinsing his mouth, Draco stuck his head out the door and listened intently. Severus had long since gone to bed, and Deliverance was housed in the first floor guest room, so it couldn’t be either of them. Slipping further into the hallway, Malfoy slowly made his way across the floor, grateful for the elaborate rugs decorating the expanse of the hallway, as the stones beneath them were incredibly cold at this time of night.

Another light noise drew him to the door-less room just a few feet from the bathroom and Draco quickly made his way to it, having assumed now what the noise was.

“Harry?” he called gently as he stole into the darkened room.

The only answer was a quiet whimper and a shuffle of covers. Moving closer to the bed, Malfoy got a good look at his friend and rushed determinedly to his side.

“Harry, wake up, come on!” he exclaimed quietly, not wanting to wake up anyone else in the house. Gently taking Harry’s shoulders, he shook the teen, hoping for a response.

He got one, but not the one he’d been expecting. Almost as soon as he had laid his hands on the boy, Harry jerked away from him, nearly falling from the bed.

“Harry!” he whispered softly, and grabbed him around the waist to prevent the fall to the floor. He realized as soon as he’d done it that it hadn’t been a good idea, as his friend’s fist slammed into his stomach. He dropped Harry, and fell to his knees, gasping for the breath that had been knocked from him.

The raven-haired Gryffindor slowly came to his senses after falling to the floor. Seeing Draco gasping in front of him, Harry quickly scooted over to help his friend.

“Are you okay?” he asked, knowing now that he was fully awake that he’d hit Draco, not his Uncle. “I’m so sorry, Dray,” he whispered, trying to pull his shirt up to get a better look. He hadn’t thought he’d hit him that hard, but maybe he had.

Draco swatted his hands away. “Don’t worry about it, Harry. You just knocked the wind out of me, is all. I’m all right,” he said, smiling at his friend to show he was telling the truth. “Remind me to never get on your bad side,” he said jokingly.

Harry shrugged, still upset at himself for hitting his friend, but Draco didn’t seem upset at all.

“I guess now we’re even, then?”

The green-eyed boy watched him confusedly. “What are you talking about?”

“I pushed you, you punched me, viola, we’re even. Now, you’ve just got to smack Weasley upside the head,” he stated seriously, one finger braced on his chin, looking contemplative.

Harry couldn’t help but laugh at the image that crossed his mind at the thought. Hmm…that could be fun. “I am sorry, though, that I hit you,” he said, plaintively.

Draco shrugged. “Don’t worry about it, you didn’t hurt me. Surprised me more than anything, really, I hadn’t expected you to do that,” he sat watching Harry for a moment before plunging in. “Who did you think I was, Harry, that you felt you needed to defend yourself?”

The smaller of the two teens would have cursed if he’d had the energy. Instead, he sighed and lowered himself carefully back onto the bed. “It was nothing, Draco, really.”

Malfoy wasn’t buying it. “Have these nightmares been the cause of your sleeping problems?” he asked instead, hoping to at least get some kind of answer out of his friend.

Harry frowned. “It was nothing, Dray, just let it drop.”

“How can I, when your automatic reaction to my hands on your person is to lash out? Something is wrong, Harry, please, just tell me what it is?” he tried to persuade the boy, but Harry seemed to clam up even more.

“I was just having a regular bad dream, but I can’t remember what it was about. Maybe someone was attacking me in my dream and I just instinctively struck out when you touched me,” he said, trying to come up with any explanation that would get Draco off his case.

“You don’t remember the dream at all?” asked Draco.

Harry shook his head. “It must not have been that memorable if I can’t remember it. I’m sorry if I woke you up,” he thought to add, wondering what his friend was doing up. Glancing at the clock, he realized it wasn’t much later from the time when he went to bed.

“It’s no problem, I wasn’t asleep, just brushing my teeth.”

“Oh, okay,” answered Harry, his thoughts beginning to wander to the nightmare that he in fact could remember. He shuddered as the thoughts went through his head, the same nightmare he’d been having, but it seemed so real. But it couldn’t be.

A light touch on his shoulder jarred him from his thoughts and he had to literally struggle not to flinch away from it. Harry nearly yelled in frustration. Why was he doing this? It was just Draco for crying out loud. He knew the Slytherin wouldn’t hurt him! This was absolutely ridiculous! He glanced up and saw Draco watching him and schooled his features into looking less confused and more attentive.

“Sorry, spaced out there for a second,” he said, grinning at the look on Draco’s face.

“Spaced out? What the hell is that?”

“Nothing, just a Muggle saying,” explained Harry.

Draco cringed. “Well, don’t say it anymore. It just sounds stupid, probably due to where it comes from”

“Hey!”

“What?” asked Draco, looking innocent and failing miserably.

“I grew up with Muggles!” he exclaimed.

“Yeah, and they were evil little bastards too, weren’t they?”

Harry couldn’t deny that. “Well, they weren’t little. They were actually quite fat…except for one,” he said, grinning.

Malfoy scrunched up his face, having seen the fat Muggle once before. “Well, I’m ready to hit the hay,” he said nonchalantly, having seen Harry stifle a yawn.

“We could talk some more, if you want?” asked Harry, not really wanting to go to sleep, even though he was beyond exhausted.

Draco could see Harry wanted him to stay, but knew his friend wouldn’t get any rest if he did. “Do you think you’re going to have another nightmare?” he asked in concern, wondering if that wasn’t the reason Harry wanted him to stay.

“Oh, no. I just didn’t want you to leave if you were only leaving on my account,” he hastily said. “I can understand if you’re tired, though.”

Malfoy nodded. “A little bit. If you want me to stay, I will though,” he added.

Harry was quick to deny it now, not wanting Malfoy to think he was too scared to go to sleep or something. “No, it’s okay. I’m feeling a little tired myself, actually. Thanks for offering, though.”

“Sure,” replied his friend, standing up from his spot on the bed. “Sleep tight, Har,” he said.

Harry smiled. “Did you just call me Har?”

“Hey, if you’re calling me Dray, the least you can expect is a nickname of your own!” he said, smiling as well.

“Fine, so long as it’s not Harold!” he said, remembering Draco’s condition of not calling him Drake.

“Who would call you Harold?” asked Malfoy, looking appalled.

Harry laughed. “My sentiments exactly!”

Harry jerked awake with a startled gasp. Another night, another nightmare. Glancing at the clock, he groaned upon realizing it was only 5 o’clock in the morning and he was already wide-awake. Knowing he would never get another wink of sleep, he slowly climbed out of bed, his tired body protesting at the movements. Grabbing his night robe off the chair where he’d left it the night before, Harry slipped into it and headed to the bathroom to take care of his needs. After washing his hands, he quietly went downstairs and into the kitchen.

He was about to push the door open when he heard voices from within. Harry smiled knowing who it was. The kitchen smelled wonderful; it was obvious Deliverance and Cella had been up for a while preparing breakfast. He couldn’t understand why they would be up this early, but he wasn’t about to complain.

“Need any help?” he asked quietly from the doorway, the two busy cooks having not heard him.

“Harry!” exclaimed Del, wiping her hands on a white apron tied firmly around her waist. “What are you doing up so early?” Her hands had moved from the apron to her hips, with a concerned look on her face.

“No reason, but woke up early, couldn’t sleep.”

“Are you all right?” she asked, placing a pan in the oven and returning her gaze to the boy.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just didn’t feel like laying in bed any longer,” he said, knowing he looked as tired as he felt.

“Well, since you’re up, why don’t you come help me with these?” she asked, indicating the dough laid out in front of her on the counter. “I’m going to make homemade biscuits,” she told the boy, sending him to the sink to wash his hands. She could tell something was a little off about her favorite child this morning and knew he needed a distraction.

After washing his hands, Harry immediately took up a place beside his grandmother and began kneading the dough. Having made these a few times for the Dursley’s he felt confident he wouldn’t mess this up, considering his mind kept wandering back to the nightmare which had awakened him in the first place.

He gently patted down the dough and folded it over, repeating this motion several times, probably a few times too many as he let his thoughts run rampant.

“Harry?”

He glanced up at Deliverance and then down at the dough.

“Sorry,” he said quietly, taking the dough he had nearly squashed to death and with a simple spell it was back to its original condition. Rolling out the dough, he took his wand and cut it into a dozen circles before placing them on the cooking sheet Deliverance provided him with. “Have you always cooked like this?” he asked.

She looked at him oddly. “Whatever do you mean, Harry?” she asked, confused. “Oh, you mean do I always do it by hand and not by magic?”

Harry nodded. “Yes, it’s the only way I ever learned. Back in my day, sweetie, if you were caught using magic by the Muggles, you were immediately tried and hanged in front of the entire town. When my family and I escaped to Cross Island, we made a pact never to use magic again for fear of being caught. At the time, it was our only option. So yes, I’ve been cooking all on my own since I was a young girl. I actually find it to be very relaxing.”

Harry placed the pan in the oven after taking the previous one out. “I think so too.”

Deliverance smiled at the boy and ushered him to a chair. “Why don’t you have a seat and eat some we’ve already made?” she asked. Cella was suddenly there beside him, a plate, glass, and utensils were before him, as she served him his breakfast.

Not feeling particularly hungry, Harry picked up one of the biscuits and lathered it with strawberry jam before taking a small bite. Juice appeared in his glass and he gratefully took a sip, not realizing how thirsty he was until that moment. Just as he was placing his glass back down on the table, he felt someone wrap an arm around his shoulders and pull him backwards. Instinctively, Harry twisted out of the arms holding him and stumbled to his feet, feeling his heart beat erratically in his chest as his panic tried to take over.

“Harry?” asked Severus, looking startled.

Harry took in a deep breath, berating himself for overreacting once again! “Sorry, Dad, I-I just,” he had to take in another breath to calm himself. “You just took me by surprise, is all. Sorry?” he said, more as a question.

Severus continued to watch his son worriedly. “Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked, making a move to place his hand on Harry’s shoulder, but Harry easily side stepped his advancing hand and walked back to his chair, internally wondering just why he kept shying away from everyone’s touch.

“I’m fine, sir, really. I just wasn’t expecting you to be up as early as me. And as early as Deliverance either, for that matter, and well, Cella’s always up this early,” he continued on, but finally forced his mouth to shut when he realized he was babbling. His father was looking a bit more than concerned now.

“Did you get enough sleep last night?” asked Severus, glancing at Deliverance out of the corner of his eye. She was looking just as worried as he was.

“Oh yeah, plenty.”

Severus sighed, knowing a lie when he heard one. “Harry,” he stated, sounding a bit harsher than he’d intended. Harry jumped and he instantly softened his voice. “Maybe you should try and go back to bed?” he asked, trying not to make it sound like an order, even though he was seriously considering making him.

“I can’t now. I’d never fall back asleep!. And besides, it’s nearly six thirty, I’d just be up again a few minutes later,” he was quick to rationalize with his father, not wanting the man to force him into going back to bed. He did not want those nightmares. When would they end? And why did he keep having them? They always focused on his Uncle, and were normally memories of his childhood, but this stuff hadn’t ever happened.

“Very well, you’ve proved your point. You don’t have to go back to bed, but I would like for you to try and get to sleep early tonight, though.”

Harry nodded gratefully. “Okay, dad.”

“What did you have planned for today?” he asked, sitting down in the chair beside his son, his eyes taking in the bruise like circles under the boy’s eyes with a sigh.

“I don’t know. I keep telling myself I need to go and visit the Weasley’s, but I just haven't had the chance yet. What do you think? Would it be okay if I went over there today?”

Severus considered his son for what seemed like an eternity before he finally nodded his head. “I suppose that would be all right. However, if you have another of your dizzy spells, I want you to come home immediately. Understood?” he asked, keeping a stern eye on the boy.

Harry didn’t think it was as necessary to come home as all that. It wasn’t like he was passing out or anything, but he could see why his father would make that condition. “I agree to those terms,” he said.

Severus smirked. “Very good. What about Draco, do you know what he has planned for today?” he asked.

Harry shook his head. He hadn’t even considered what Malfoy might be doing. That was a little bit inconsiderate of him, wasn’t it? Leaving the other boy here all by himself with no one to keep him company, besides his father and grandmother?

“I don’ t know. But, maybe I shouldn’t go,” he added sheepishly. “I hadn’t considered Draco, and I doubt he’d want to come with me.”

Snape stood from his chair and began pacing the floor. “Deliverance was wanting to go back to Cross Island, assess the damage and see what could be rebuilt. I don’t want her going on her own and will accompany her. That leaves you and Draco to your own devices, an idea I’m not too pleased with. Not that I don’t trust you on your own,” he added quickly at Harry’s affronted gaze. “But, I might be gone longer than just a few hours. And, loathe as I am to admit it, there are still some questionable Death Eaters on the loose and I’d rather you not be on your own for too long.”

Harry nodded, seeing the advantage of being in the presence of more than just Draco Malfoy in case the Manor was…attacked. The thought brought shudders running through his small frame. He had known some Death Eaters hadn’t been caught when he had destroyed Voldemort, he just chose not to think on it. They couldn’t bother him here, but then he was brought back to reality by the fact that they actually could. Snape Manor wasn’t as heavily warded as Hogwarts, or even the Dursleys for that matter, but Snape had his own type of wards surrounding the grounds, some a bit more creative than the ones protecting Hogwarts. But they wouldn’t stop someone absolutely determined to get in, would they? If they wanted in, they’d find a way.

“I don’t know if it will work, but I can try and convince Draco to come with me to the Weasley’s?” he asked, wanting Severus’ opinion on the idea. It was common knowledge that Draco didn’t think too highly of the Weasley’s and the Weasley’s didn’t think too highly of the Malfoy’s. Getting him to step foot inside the Burrow would be a challenge, but one he felt he could succeed in. Maybe.

Severus raised a brow as if saying, ‘good luck with that.’ Harry couldn’t help but agree with the man. He waited for Severus’ decision on the matter and the man nodded his head. “If you can convince him, that would be one less matter for me to worry about. If not, we’ll deal with it as it comes.”

“Okay, I’ll go talk to him now. If I can’t convince him, I’ll just stun him and drag him along any way,” he replied with a shrug, seriously contemplating doing just that.

“I’m not entirely sure Draco would appreciate that very much, Harry,” said Severus, smirking. He could just imagine the blonde Slytherins’ look of indignation.

“Yeah, I know that. I’m not being serious, at least not yet…” he grinned at the look on his father’s face. “I’m kidding, I wouldn’t do that to him. He’d kill me.”

“Ah, I doubt he’d go that far,” he said, knowing the said Slytherin was truly beginning to like Harry, so much to the point where he was being protective of him, especially after the incident in the Library. Severus was quite pleased to see this change in his godson.

Harry shrugged. “Yeah, I know that,” he glanced at his watch, not noticing his father’s drifting thoughts. “I’d better get to convincing Draco then, or we’ll miss lunch with the Weasley’s.”

“I thought that Molly and Arthur didn’t know you were arriving today?” he asked.

“Oh they don’t, but I still don’t want to miss her cooking,” he explained.

“Harry…” he was about to rebuke the boy on just inviting himself over to the Weasley’s home, but thought better of it. He knew Molly Weasley, that woman loved Harry almost as if he was her own son, and would never deny the boy anything. He didn’t want Harry and Draco to just barge in and eat them out of house and home, either. But, again, Molly Weasley would have enough food on the table to feed a small army, and Harry and his godson would barely make a dent in it. Just the same, though, “Harry, perhaps you should firecall first, make sure the Weasley’s can take you in?”

Harry agreed immediately. “Oh, I was going to! I wouldn’t just stop by without asking first, that would be rude and inconsiderate!” he said, not wanting to be an inconvenience on the Weasley’s at all. He wouldn’t want to force his presence on anyone, especially if they didn’t want him there.

Severus sighed, he should have known better than to think Harry wouldn’t take that into account all on his own. He could see the wheels turning, already, in the teen’s head and nearly regretted saying anything at all.

“I’d better go firecall now, they might have other plans, besides.”

Harry quickly rushed from the kitchen after waving a quick goodbye to Deliverance who had remained unusually quiet over by the stove.

…………………………

“You’re supposed to knock, you realize?” drawled Draco with an air of annoyance in his voice.

Harry faltered at the already opened door, as he hadn’t even thought of knocking with the door standing wide open before him. “Oh…” he mumbled quietly, feeling that Malfoy’s words were an indication that he wanted to be left alone and not bothered by the likes of him, Harry took a step backwards and turned to go back out. “Sorry I bothered you,” he said quickly and was halfway down the hallway before Malfoy’s voice echoed down to him.

”Harry, wait!”

Coming to an abrupt halt, Harry turned around and looked at Draco questioningly. “Yeah?”

“I didn’t mean you couldn’t come in!” he said, exasperation showing in his eyes. “I just prefer it for people to knock before they enter, common courtesy and all that rot,” he mumbled, looking upset with himself. “You’re always welcome.” He watched Harry stand quietly in the middle of the hallway anxiously.

“Are you sure?” asked Harry, still feeling unsure of himself.

“Of course I am. I wouldn’t have said it otherwise!” said Draco, wondering on Harry’s obvious lack of self-esteem. He didn’t have to wonder long, of course, he knew the cause of it, his bloody relatives.

“I really didn’t mean to invade your privacy or anything,” Harry continued before Malfoy raised his hands, causing Harry to stop speaking. “What?”

“Stop, Harry, you did not invade my privacy!” he waited for Harry to continue in his vein of self-doubt, but he remained silent. “Well, what did you come up here for in the first place?” he asked, holding a hand invitingly towards his door, and only going inside when Harry had started towards him.

Harry slowly trailed after his friend, wondering whether or not he should feel completely stupid for thinking Draco didn’t want him around. It was incredibly stupid, he realized as he looked back on it. Draco was always scathing or sarcastic, not so much now, but perhaps it was just a habit he fell back on whenever he was taken by surprise, as he clearly did earlier. Feeling slightly better about the situation, Harry was more at ease when he entered the blonde’s room and took the seat Draco was indicating with his pointed finger.

“Well?” asked Draco, once Harry had sat down.

He actually had to think for a minute to recall what his purpose was for seeing Malfoy in the first place. “Oh, yeah, I came to ask if you would go to the Weasley’s with me…” he trailed off, wondering if Draco would even be willing to go after what just happened.

“To the Weasley’s?” asked Draco, looking incredulous. “Why would I want to go over there with you?” he asked, his tone once more turning to ice at the mention of the redhead. He still clearly recalled their argument and the devastating results. He’d never forgive himself, or Ron Weasley, for causing Harry harm.

That wasn’t what Harry was thinking, however. Harry sighed. “They’re not that bad!” he exclaimed, he also felt a little hurt at Malfoy’s last words. “And what’s so bad about going over there with me?” he asked, his hurt unintentionally coming through in his voice.

Draco came very close to slamming his head into his wooden desk. “Harry! There is nothing wrong with going anywhere with you, not even to the Weasley’s! But you know how I feel about them and how they feel about me. You know Weasley’s father has been fighting with my own for as long as either of us can remember. You saw it for yourself.”

Harry nodded, knowing he spoke the truth. “But still, why can’t you just give them a chance? They’re really great people!”

Harry didn’t realize it, but he’d already won the battle, with the hurt that had been shining in his eyes just a few moments before. Draco felt like an arse for causing Harry doubt, not once, but twice in the past twenty minutes. Draco was going to the Weasley’s, begrudgingly perhaps, but he was still going. He was just putting up a believable front until it seemed wise to give in, otherwise Harry would know something was up.

He sighed as they continued to argue for another good ten minutes before Draco finally caved, telling his friend he would go. But seeing Harry smile an actual bright, happy smile was worth it. It was quite rare to get any kind of smile out of Harry lately, and if this was the only way to get one, then so be it.

…………………………………..

Draco stumbled out of the fireplace and into the most unbelievably cluttered home he’d ever stepped foot in. He was surprised then, at the sense of ‘home’ he got when he’d entered. Harry had told him once how great the Burrow was, how at home he felt when he was there. He hadn’t believed it at the time, envisioning an old shack when he’d described it, but now…it was easy to believe. The house may not be built of the finest stones and furnished with the most expensive and impressive furniture, but, and as corny as he felt while just thinking it, Draco could tell it was a house filled with love, affection, pride, and many others he couldn’t quite identify with. Then again, none of those emotions had ever entered his house, not when he was concerned.

Harry stood to the side of Draco, wondering where everyone was. He could hear noises from upstairs, but no one seemed to be around down in the sitting room or the kitchen.

“Hello?” he called out. Suddenly, all the earlier noises from upstairs ceased and the thudding of footsteps down the wooden stairs came loud and clear.

”Harry!” yelled an unidentified voice. “You’re here!”

Standing in the living room, Harry and Draco watched in fascination as all the Weasley children were able to manage coming down the stairs at once…and none of them got trampled in the process.

“Are we early?” he asked, checking his watch.

“No!” they yelled in unison. Draco groaned beside him and Harry quickly nudged him in his side.

“Malfoy,” said Fred suddenly as a greeting when they realized he was there as well.

“I told your Mum he was coming,” Harry quickly explained at the hostile looks between them. “Didn’t she tell you?” he asked, dismayed if they hadn’t known!

“Oh she told us, we were just hoping he’d get lost on the way over,” said Ron hotly.

Draco didn’t look phased at all, but Harry bristled at the tone Ron was using against his friend. “Ron, I came over here because I wanted to visit with all of you. If you’re going to act like this for the rest of the day, forget it. We’ll go straight home.”

Ron’s fire instantly dampened. “Don’t leave, Harry! Bloody hell, we’ll behave, I promise,” he said, clearly reigning in his anger at the Slytherin for Harry’s benefit only.

“That’s right boys, we don’t want a repeat performance of last time, now do we?” asked a very familiar voice from behind them. Harry turned around and was instantly pulled into Molly Weasley’s arms. The movement had been so unexpected and fierce in its intensity that Harry gasped and began to struggle out of her arms. He felt her arms loosen and suddenly he was free and looking up into her eyes. He felt awful at the hurt expression on her face.

“Harry?” she asked.

Immediately, Harry came up with lie. “I was going to sneeze!” he exclaimed, putting on a look of embarrassment, even though it wasn’t far from the truth. He was embarrassed and ashamed that he’d reacted that way with Mrs. Weasley!

“Are you sick?” she asked, her look of hurt instantly transformed to one of concern. She placed her hand against his forehead. “You’re a little warm,” she said offhandedly, before placing them against his cheeks as well.

“It must be from the floo,” he quickly tried to explain. He didn’t want them thinking he was sick.

Molly shook her head. “You’ve never reacted with a fit of sneezing before while using the floo,” she said, ignoring his words and continuing to fuss over him.

“It wasn’t a fit!” he tried saying, but he was instantly shushed and gently guided to the couch to sit down. “Mrs. Weasley, really, I’m not sick at all!” he tried again, but nothing seemed to help. He glowered at the twins and Ron when he saw them stifling their laughter behind their mother.

Ron was glad to see Harry on the receiving end of his Mum’s concern instead of one of them. And the look on Harry’s face was absolutely priceless. They’d be hearing about this tonight when Mum had gone to sleep. Harry wouldn’t be too pleased they hadn’t come to his rescue.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could even see Malfoy smirking at the motherly care Harry was getting. As if sensing someone watching him, Draco turned and met Ron’s watchful gaze. The two instantly looked away again. Finally, Molly seemed to determine there wasn’t anything really wrong with the boy and let him stand up.

Harry took in a deep breath and took a step back towards Draco. Molly looked towards her own children and suddenly remembered her earlier train of thought and started in on Ron and Draco once more with the incident she’d heard about from her youngest son the same night Harry had been injured while the two boys had been quarreling.

“That was an accident!” complained Ron, though by the look he was giving Harry, it was obvious he still felt horrible about it.

“An accident that could have been prevented if you two boys had kept to yourselves, or better yet, gotten along!” she said, her voice loud and stern. Harry nearly shied away obediently at her words, and he wasn’t even the one in trouble.

“Mum!” exclaimed Ron, clearly embarrassed at being chastised in front of his friends and Draco Malfoy of all people.

“Don’t you Mum me, young man! I expect the both of you to behave, is that understood?”

Ron nodded meekly and as Harry looked towards his left, he saw that Draco was nodding in consent as well. Would wonders never cease?

Molly nodded her approval and started back into the kitchen. “Oh, Harry, Draco, you’re both just in time for lunch. I hope you don’t mind turkey sandwiches, fresh fruit, and Pumpkin juice, do you?” she asked. Harry had the feeling she’d switch the menu if he wanted something different, but he wouldn’t have asked for something else no matter what they were having. And a nice light meal sounded fabulous.

“Oh, no, that sounds good, Mrs. Weasley.”

She looked towards Draco, the same question asked in her eyes, and Draco nodded politely. Molly quickly rushed into the kitchen, presumably to set the table and make a few more sandwiches.

“Well, how has your holiday been so far?” asked Harry to break the tension in the room. He noticed Ginny had been staring at Draco since she’d come down the stairs and Malfoy was growing annoyed at the obvious display. It wasn’t exactly a pleasant look he was receiving, either.

“Fine, really. You know about most of it, actually, and nothing new has come up. Oh, except that Bill will be coming home in the next couple of days for a visit!” said Ron happily.

“Really? Is he on vacation, then?” Harry asked, knowing Bill was a very busy man and sometimes it was difficult for him to find time to come home, even for a small visit.

“Yeah, he is. He’ll be staying for a whole month! It’ll be great to have him around the house, considering there are still a few things that Dad hasn’t gotten the chance to fix yet, or rebuild, I guess. And, he’s wanting to put up stronger wards as well. Normally, Dumbledore or even McGonagall could come and help with that sort of thing, but Dad prefers to keep ward raisings in the family, says they’re stronger that way.” Ron continued to ramble on and on about what all still needed fixing with the house. Harry had almost forgotten the Burrow had been in a nearly disastrous fire. The thought of Molly standing in the window moments before the entire house burst into flames caused Harry to shudder violently.

“Mate, are you all right?” asked Ron, his earlier words coming to an abrupt halt.

Harry shook his head, hoping the images Ron had invoked would disappear. He glanced up and saw all of his friends staring at him. “Are you cold?” asked George, though his voice sounded like he didn’t believe that at all.

“Um…no, not cold, just thinking,” he said distractedly, hoping they’d drop the subject.

“What were you thinking about?” Fred asked, taking a step closer to Harry. He stopped just short of putting his arm around his shoulders, as he would normally do, when Harry slightly shied away from his touch. Fred almost didn’t notice it, but Harry’s subtle movement to the left, and subsequently away from him, caught his eye. He frowned.

Harry shrugged. “Your house, actually.”

The Weasley’s and Malfoy looked perplexed. “Huh?”

Harry would have laughed at the completely bewildered look on everyone’s faces if it weren’t for the serious nature of his thoughts. “I was just thinking about my vision, of seeing your Mum stand in the window…and the house exploding,” he said quietly.

“OH!” exclaimed Ron. As if realizing what a horrible memory that was for Harry, Ron’s face suddenly turned white. “Oh,” he repeated. “Harry, I’m so sorry, I should have thought before I spoke!”

Harry waved him off. “It’s not as bad as that, Ron. I was just thinking about it, and it’s not like your Mum got…hurt, or anything,” he said slowly, the thought alone of something happening to Molly Weasley was enough to make him shudder.

Fred took a cautious step towards Harry and when Harry finally made eye contact with him, he slowly put his arm around his shoulders. Harry let him, and the older redhead pulled the younger teen against his side, wanting him to feel as much comfort as he could possibly offer at the look Harry now had on his face. “Nothing’s going to happen to her, Harry,” he whispered for Harry’s ears only, and Harry momentarily wondered if Fred couldn’t read minds. Then he wondered just how clear his emotions were displayed on his face.

“Okay,” he instantly agreed, even though he knew no one could promise him nothing would happen to her, or to any of them for that matter. Besides, it was only a matter of time before someone else got killed. He planned to make sure it wasn’t one of his friends of family, if he could at all help it.

Soon, they were called into the kitchen for lunch, and Harry was more than happy to pull away from the somber mood that had fallen. Just being in Mrs. Weasley’s presence seemed to cheer them all and Harry sat down for the light meal he’d been promised. He rolled his eyes discretely when he picked up his mug to take a drink and realized Ron’s Mum had given him an herbal tea instead of Pumpkin juice. She obviously still thought he was ailing from something, even if she couldn’t figure out what it was. He cringed, taking a drink of the nasty liquid. He saw Ron snickering beside him and pelted him in the ribs with his elbow. Ron didn’t stop snickering. Deciding to ignore his friend and his antics, he picked up a turkey sandwich from the full platter she’d set in front of them and took a big bite. It tasted as good as he thought it would. Molly’s food, whether cooked or just thrown together, was always the best. Besides Deliverance’s that is. Hers was just as good, if not better, though he’d never tell Mrs. Weasley that.

…………………………………….

Harry sat outside on the damp grass underneath a large tree a few yards away from the Burrow. After a day surrounded by so many people he’d needed a moment of peace before entering the fray once more. He could hear Zane somewhere nearby, probably chasing another animal of some sort. Oddly, he felt safer being out here by himself knowing the Rottweiler wasn’t far from him. When they’d come to the Burrow, Zane had seemed adamant on coming too, having followed him about the entire time he’d been getting ready to leave and even going so far as to biting into the material of his jeans when he’d stepped into the fireplace. He’d given in at that point, assuming Zane had a good reason for wanting to come along. He’d realized early on that the Rottweiler was good luck, especially in dangerous situations, and it couldn’t hurt to have him along. And he was definitely glad the dog was with him.

Glancing up through the gaps in between leafy branches, Harry watched as the sun slowly descended and the sky steadily grew darker. Before he knew what was happening, his eyes drifted shut and he was sound asleep. It only took ten minutes for Harry to jerk awake with a start. In front of him was Zane, watching him with concern. He nuzzled Harry’s face, almost like he was intentionally comforting him. The raven-haired teen’s breathing was coming in short gasps, and he realized with a start he’d been at the beginning of a nightmare, but Zane had woken him just in time.

“Thank you, Zane. You’ll never know how much I appreciate you right now,” he said quietly, wrapping his arms around the large dog’s neck and hugging him.

A few minutes later, Harry finally dragged himself to his feet and started the long walk back to the Burrow, Zane following protectively behind him.

………………………………

“Where’ve you been, Harry?” asked Ron as he shut the front door behind him.

Harry shrugged. “Just outside with Zane.”

Ron stared at him for what seemed like a very long time before nodding his head. “So, are you okay?” he asked later.

“I’m fine, why?”

“You know…Mum, the house, the fire…all of that. Are you all right?” he asked, his voice a little more emphatic this time.

“Yes, I’m fine. You don’t have to worry so much, honestly. Between you, my father, your Mum, and now Draco, I’m just about worried out, at least with all of you worrying about me,” he said, not sure if that made as much sense to Ron as it did to him.

“Yeah, well, we’re your friends. It’s in our job description to worry about you,” he said, begrudgingly ignoring the fact that Malfoy had been mentioned at all.

Harry grinned. “Gee, thanks, Ron.”

“Any time, mate,” Ron was grinning as well and quickly stood up from the kitchen table where he’d been eating a snack. He glanced down at the empty plate of biscuits and groaned. “I’d offer you one, but it seems I’ve ate them all,” he said, actually looking a bit sad and upset. “Are you hungry?”

Harry shook his head. “No, its all right, Ron. I ate quite enough at dinner, thank you. Besides, I think if I never see another roasted potato in my life, it will be too soon.”

Ron laughed outright at that. “Sorry, Mum made so much food we’ll probably have leftovers for the next two weeks!”

“That’s too bad, I mean, it’s not like your Mum’s cooking is any good or anything?” he asked jokingly. “Whatever will you do with all that food?” It wasn’t as if Ron wasn’t their own personal vacuum when it came to eating.

Ron shrugged. “I’ll eat it, I guess.”

Harry laughed again before yawning widely, shoving his hand up to his mouth as he did so.

“Tired?” asked Ron.

Harry nodded. “Very,” he said, but with the near miss with the nightmare when he’d fallen asleep outside still clear in his mind, he wasn’t sure if he’d even get any sleep tonight. “I wonder when my Dad is going to show up?” he thought idly, not realizing he’d spoken aloud until Ron answered him.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you! In fact, I think you were outside when he fire-called my Mum, but he and Deliverance are still working on her house. I guess not everything was destroyed after the Death Eaters attacked and a few other villagers were there as well, rebuilding. So, basically, they’re going to stay over there and get a few more things finished, but they’re not sure how late they’ll be. He asked Mum if you and Malfoy could spend the night, and of course, she said yes! So, I hope you don’t mind staying?” he asked.

Harry shook his head. “No, I don’t mind!” he said, grinning. He loved it here almost as much as he was beginning to love his new home with Severus.

“I take it you’re ready for bed, though?” Ron asked when Harry couldn’t stifle yet another yawn.

“Yeah, I’m pretty exhausted. Where are we staying, though?” he thought to ask, considering he normally slept in Ron’s room, but with Draco staying as well, he wasn’t sure what the sleeping arrangements would be.

“Oh, yeah…” Ron trailed off, looking distinctly irritated. “He’s sleeping in my room with us. I don’t know why Mum thinks she can fit three people into my room, especially one as conceited as Malfoy, of all people!” he complained.

“Ron, we’ve fit more than three people in your room before,” he stated, feeling indignant on behalf of his Slytherin friend, but knowing Ron was just venting steam kind of helped. Even if he probably meant every word he said.

“Well, that was different,” he started, but at seeing the annoyance on Harry’s face, he wisely shut his mouth. “Mum’s already put out the cots if you want to go ahead and lie down,” he offered. “I think Malfoy’s already in there and I’ll be up after a while.”

Harry smiled gratefully and headed for the stairs. He saw Mrs. Weasley standing in the kitchen and quickly gave her a hug before she could.

“Are you heading for bed?” she asked gently, brushing a few errant strays of hair away from his face, her hand lingering on his skin, and Harry realized she was trying to subtly check his temperature again.

“Yes,” he answered, grinning at her.

“Well, goodnight then, darling,” she gave him another gentle hug before letting him go.

……………………………….

Harry didn’t close his eyes until long after Ron had fallen asleep on the bed above him. On Harry’s left side, Draco was sleeping peacefully, unaware of the eyes watching him. Harry didn’t know what he’d do if he had a nightmare. He’d end up waking the entire house…well, maybe not everyone, but at least the other two people in the room with him. He struggled uselessly to stay awake, but about two hours after Ron had come to bed, Harry’s eyes drifted shut of their own accord.

He managed a few hours of peaceful sleep before the nightmares kicked in. He tossed and turned, his body curling into a protective ball on his cot. Small whimpers left his lips and Draco stirred slightly across from him before turning on his side, still sleeping deep enough to not notice his friend’s discomfort.

The door to the boy’s room was quietly pushed open and a large, furry form entered the room. He walked to Harry’s side and nuzzled his face as he’d done earlier. Zane silently dropped down beside his boy and rested his head across Harry’s chest with one giant paw lying beside the boy’s face. Instantaneously, Harry’s struggles and whimpers ceased and he fell into a sleep devoid of nightmares. Even in sleep, Harry felt protected and safe.

……………………………………..

The next morning, Harry woke up feeling rested and happy. He sat up on his cot and looked around at his friends, both of which were still sleeping soundly. He climbed up from his bed and pulled one of Ron’s sweaters over his head before heading downstairs. It was kind of chilly that morning, even if it was the middle of summer.

Sitting down at the empty kitchen table, Harry wondered at his lack of nightmares. He was unaware that Zane had stayed with him the entire night and had left shortly after Harry began to stir from his restful sleep. Still, the green-eyed teen was extremely glad he’d gotten at least one night’s rest.

“Good morning, Harry,” greeted Mr. Weasley, trailing sleepily into the kitchen behind his wife.

“Hello, Harry,” she mussed his hair as she past, and Harry just left it. It wasn’t as if he could tame the raven locks, so why even bother? “Are Ron and Draco still sleeping?” she asked a moment later.

Harry picked up the glass of juice she’d sat down in front of him. “Yes.”

She acknowledged his answer with a kind smile and turned around to open a cupboard in front of her. She pulled out a few items and set to cooking breakfast. It looked like sausages, eggs, and…

“Where are those biscuits?” she asked, opening and shutting many of the cabinets before sighing. “Ronald,” she huffed under her breath.

Harry grinned at her, having come in last night after Ron had eaten the rest of them.

“I guess we’ll just have to make due with toast instead,” she muttered, setting the eggs to cooking as she reached for a bag of bread.

………………………….

After breakfast, Ron, Draco, and surprisingly Ginny were in the living room, doing nothing but sitting quietly. Ginny had brought down a book and was reading to herself wrapped up in a blanket. It was still unnaturally chilly, causing even Draco to borrow one of Ron’s sweaters…that was an interesting sight to behold. Harry had a feeling Mrs. Weasley may have coerced the blonde Slytherin into wearing it. It was of the home sewn variety, with a large green R on the front. It was probably a Christmas present from last year.

Harry chose not to comment, knowing Draco would just say something nasty or scowl at him.

Molly walked into the room a minute later with Ron, Fred, and George behind her. “Children,” she began, and Harry noticed all the redheads in the room rolled their eyes. Mrs. Weasley ignored them. “I know I cancelled our trip to Diagon Alley for this morning so you could be with Harry today, but last night I talked to Professor Snape and he agreed to let Harry and Draco come with us,” she turned to the two boys in question. “Unless you’d rather stay in?” she asked.

Harry shook his head immediately. He hadn’t gotten to leave the Manor since the Holiday had started. He looked questioningly at his friends. “Do you guys want to go?” he asked timidly. He wouldn’t go if they didn’t want to.

“Yes!” they all exclaimed. Even Draco looked a little excited about getting out of the house and into the fresh air. He’d been cooped up as well, first hiding out at Malfoy Manor and then at home with Severus.

Harry smiled. “Brilliant.”

…………………………….

Diagon Alley was bustling with all sorts of people. The weather was probably the reason for this, as the past few days had been muggy and hot, whereas today was cool and pleasant, especially with the breeze that kicked up every now and then.

However, Harry’s happiness was short lived for as soon as he’d stepped into the crowded Alley, most of the movement going on around him stopped. He looked up to see many faces, young and old, staring at him. Staring at his scar.

“That’s Harry Potter,” whispered a young girl to her friend beside her. That set both of them into a fit of giggles and Harry groaned. He’d forgotten about his enhanced ‘celebrity’ status, ever since he’d destroyed Voldemort.

As conversation started again, he heard his name and that of ‘You-Know-Who’ so many times he thought he would gag. He glanced at Ron and Draco, both of whom just shrugged their shoulders, but as their eyes widened at a point over his shoulder, Harry spun around to see a girl around his age coming towards him. She had long dark hair and big eyes, but the look on her face was almost predatory. She kept looking behind her, and Harry saw a group of girls whispering encouragingly to her.

Harry groaned again. “You have got to be kidding me,” he said. He turned around and nearly walked straight into Ginny, who was giving the dark haired girl the evil eye.

The girl had stopped at seeing Ginny’s look, but almost immediately her eyes grew fiercesome as well, and she continued towards him. Ginny growled. Harry gave her a weird look.

“What?” she asked.

“You’re growling?”

“Well, you know she’s just after you because you’re famous!” she exclaimed. Once more the dark haired girl stopped moving and looked back at her friends hesitantly.

“So what, she’s hot!” intoned Ron.

Harry started laughing when he saw who was standing behind Ron. He hadn’t known she was coming, but this was just getting better and better.

“That’s disgusting, Ron!” said Hermione, causing Ron to jump clear off the ground before turning to face her contritely.

“Her-Hermione!” he stuttered, his face almost as red as a beet.

“Ron,” she said hotly, before turning to talk to Ginny and completely ignoring the sputtering Ron.

“Ah, how the mighty have fallen,” Harry said, slapping Ron on the back. Ron looked confused. “I’ve just always wanted to say that…” he trailed off, noticing the girl was coming closer again, un-intimidated by the look Ginny and now Hermione were currently giving her.

“I’m leaving,” said Harry, and walked straight back into the Leaky Cauldron. He didn’t wait to see if anyone was following him, and he didn’t really care, either. He didn’t want to have to deal with drooling girls, whispered words and sidelong looks all day long while he was trying to have a good time. He turned around and was almost surprised to see everyone had followed him. “You guys can stay, you know. I was actually thinking of going into Muggle London for some new clothes,” he added, hoping the others wouldn’t feel as if they had to go with him.

Arthur Weasley immediately perked up at that. “Muggle London? Really?” he asked, edging closer to the green-eyed teen. “You’ll need an escort no matter where we go today,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’d be pleased to fill that roll.”

Harry grinned, seeing the excited look on the man’s face at the idea of going into Muggle London. “Okay,” answered Harry. Now, no one would feel they had to go with him, with Arthur coming along. And he knew Mr. Weasley wasn’t doing it just for him.

But, as it turned out, everyone else wanted to come as well, except for Mrs. Weasley and Ginny, who both had to go into Diagon Alley to buy some new robes. Ginny was apparently outgrowing all of her clothes and she was now almost taller than Harry, something Harry wasn’t too pleased with. He didn’t like the fact that he was so damn short.

“Oh, Harry!” called Mrs. Weasley just before they’d left. Harry turned and rushed over to her.

“Yes?”

“Your father will meet us here to pick you and Draco up around three. Be sure to be back by then,” she informed the teen and Harry nodded. He’d actually begun to miss his father and would be happy to see him.

Harry hurried to catch up with his friends out on the street waiting for him. “Where to first?” asked Ron, looking up and down the street. Thankfully, they’d dressed in their everyday wear, and didn’t look too out of sorts of the Muggles traversing around them. Arthur looked a little more odd than most, but no one seemed to pay him much attention.

Harry shrugged his shoulders. “Actually, I’m really not sure. I’ve never gone to any of the stores before, except the ones closer to the Dursley’s,” he explained, not seeing the angry looks that passed between his friends at the mention of his relatives.

Hermione took over then, having been into London with her parents a fair few times. “There’s a nice little shop a few blocks away from here, if I remember correctly. It wouldn’t take long to walk,” she said, mentally going over the path to the store in her head. Harry and Ron could almost see the wheels turning.

That was fine with all of them, so they started in the direction Hermione pointed them in. As their bushy haired friend had said, it didn’t take long at all to arrive at the clothing shop. Harry stared at it, feeling a little excitement at the thought of buying his own clothes. Clothes that would fit!

Not one to waste an opportunity, and also not one to enjoy going to a dozen stores just to look for clothing, he decided to get everything he’d need here. And, he was in luck, as they sold pretty much everything he would need as well. A store clerk came up to them at one point, asking if they needed any assistance.

“Oh no, that’s all right. We’re just looking,” said Harry, smiling. The young woman smiled in return before wondering off to ask other shoppers if they needed any help.

Harry found quite a few t-shirts and long sleeved shirts he liked and added them to the growing pile of things he planned on buying. Jeans were next, and he quickly headed in that direction. He saw Mr. Weasley looking longing at a pair of bright green running pants. Laughing to himself, he made his way over to his friend’s father.

“Molly would kill me,” he said, indicating the pants he was looking at.

Harry grinned. “I could get them for you and that way Mrs. Weasley will think they’re mine,” he offered, watching the older man. “Then you could hide them somewhere.” Harry honestly didn’t know when the man would wear them, probably during times when he had to go into the Muggle world and act incognito. However, these pants weren’t exactly stealth personified.

“Oh no, Harry, you can’t do that.”

“It’s fine! I want to! And, besides, you’ve let me stay with you numerous times. It’s the least I can do to pay back your kindness,” he said awkwardly.

Mr. Weasley gently took Harry’s shoulders and turned the boy around to face him. “We take you in because we care about you, Harry. We don’t want you to feel like you have to ‘pay’ us back, in any way, shape, or form. Understand?” he asked, his eyes showing the affection and care he was referring to. “If you really want to get me these pants, I would love to have them, but I’ll pay you back as soon as we arrive home.”

Harry nodded, unable to take his eyes off of Mr. Weasley’s. “Okay,” he answered.

“Just don’t tell Molly,” he said, breaking the serious air around them.

Harry grinned. “Don’t worry, I won’t,” he said. “Thanks, Mr. Weasley.” Not looking back at the older man, Harry grabbed the pair of green pants out of Mr. Weasley’s hands and took them over to where Fred and George were sitting with his ‘to buy’ pile of clothes.

“Harry? What the heck are those?” asked George, looking a trifle horrified.

Laughing outright at the look on his friends’ faces, Harry threw the pants down on the pile. “Don’t ask.”

……………………………..

A gentle tug at the bottom of his shirt caught Harry’s attention as he stood waiting for his friends. They were now in a bookstore, a rather large one that housed everything from graphic novels to the type of literature Hermione liked to read. Fred, George, and Ron had found a few comic type books that they were enjoying over at a table in the corner whilst Hermione was perusing the bookshelves somewhere in the back. Arthur was up front chatting with the store owner and Harry had just wondered over to the Mystery section when he’d felt someone pulling at his shirt.

Looking down, he saw a little boy standing next to him. As Harry knelt down, he saw the child had tears in his eyes and looked lost. Instantly, Harry felt his heart tug at the scared look on the little boy’s face.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Jack,” he answered timidly.

Harry patted the little blonde head reassuringly. “Are you here with your parents?”

“Yes,” he said sadly. “But, now I can’t find them.”

Harry held out his hand and after a moment Jack took Harry’s larger hand and wrapped his fingers through Harry’s. “Let’s go find them, okay?”

Jack nodded eagerly, happy to have found someone who was willing to help him. The mean man a few rows down had snarled at him and told him to go away.

Looking back towards his friends, Harry decided not to bother them; it wasn’t as if he was going to go far. Harry and Jack walked throughout the many rows of shelves, looking for the little boy’s parents. “Do you know what your Mummy and Daddy’s names are?” Harry thought to ask.

The blonde boy look up at him and nodded. “Yes, Katheryn and Josiah.”

Harry nodded and headed towards the front desk. “Excuse me, sir?” he asked, wondering where Mr. Weasley had gone off to.

The clerk looked up from his desk and sighed. “Yes?”

“I’m looking for this boy’s parents. Do you remember seeing them?” he asked, and lifted the little boy into his arms to sit on his hip. “They’re names are Katheryn and Josiah,” he added for good measure.

The clerk smiled in remembrance. “Yes, I remember seeing them come in. Hold on, I’ll page them.”

A few minutes later a worried couple came rushing up to the front of the bookstore. They’re smiles were bright as they took the little boy into their arms.

”Thank you!” said Kathryn, going so far as to even give Harry a slight hug. Harry flinched and stepped away from the woman. “We looked down and he wasn’t there, and then you paged us,” she said, looking towards the clerk. “Thank you again!”

Josiah shook Harry’s hand before walking off after his wife and son. A few seconds later, Jack came jogging back to give him a hug. “Mummy says to say thank you,” he said, indicating his parents who were standing a little ways away.

“You’re welcome,” said Harry, and watched as the boy ran back to his parents.

Harry waved a hand at the clerk and went back to find his friends. Walking back towards the sitting tables, Harry turned the corner and saw Ron and Draco talking concernedly to Mr. Weasley, while Fred, George, and Hermione stood by. He walked over quickly.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, silencing the group.

“Where have you been!” exclaimed Arthur, rushing over and taking Harry’s shoulders in his hands. He lightly shook him. “We were worried sick!”

Harry shrugged his way out of Mr. Weasley’s hold and took a step back. “I was just helping Jack to find his parents. He got lost,” he tried to explain.

The eldest Weasley shook his head. “That doesn’t matter. You never walk away without telling us where you’ve gone!” he said, his voice laced with anger and concern.

“We thought you’d been taken by Death Eaters, or something!” said Ron, sounding just as angry as his father. “You should have told us you were going to help that kid!”

“I’m sorry,” said Harry, truly regretting not saying anything. He just hadn’t thought it was that big of a deal. He was almost 16 years old; he could take care of himself for cripe’s sake! It wasn’t as if he’d left the bookstore, and he said as much.

“We couldn’t find you, Harry. This store is huge, and almost like a maze with all the shelves,” said Hermione, her face still lined with worry.

“Why didn’t you page me, like I did with Jack’s parents?” he asked then, remembering how he had found the little boy’s family.

The Weasley’s looked confused and Hermione looked like she was internally berating herself. “Oh, why didn’t I think of that!” she said heatedly. “But the Weasley’s wouldn’t have known about the system, Harry. So just the same, you need to tell us before you decide to wonder off like that.”

Harry nodded, feeling a little low after the good day he’d been having. “Okay, sorry.”

………………………………..

It was now almost three o’clock, time for them to meet Severus back at the Leaky Cauldron. Harry was just imagining how much trouble he was going to get into when his father found out what he’d done in the bookstore. How much worse could his day get?

His friends were keeping silent and a little bit ahead of him. No one was talking, and Harry felt even more awful for ruining everyone else’s day as well. All this because he’d tried to help a kid, how pathetic was that?

He nearly tripped on a stone in the sidewalk and when he looked down, he noticed his shoelace was untied. He quickly bent down to tie it and was about to call out to his friends to hold on for a minute when strong arms grabbed him around his waist and pulled him upright. He didn’t see the man’s face, but he just knew whom the man was before he’d even started speaking.

“Get in the car,” spat the man, pulling Harry ever closer to the side of the road. Looking around wildly, Harry noticed that Uncle Vernon’s car was parked on the side of the street. He cursed himself for not noticing it. Then the situation he was in finally brought him back to focus and he struck out at his Uncle.

“Let me go!” he yelled, kicking and clawing at the man behind him. Vernon suddenly turned him around and slapped him across the face. The force of the impact sent him to the sidewalk.

“Hey!” yelled a voice Harry didn’t recognize. He looked up to see a man running towards him with his wife trailing just behind. “Leave that kid alone! What the hell are you doing!” Harry glanced up the street and saw his friends and Mr. Weasley rushing towards him, each of them looking horrified and angry.

His moment of relief was short lived as he was suddenly and viciously pulled to his feet and hauled once more to the car. He fought back, struggling against the large man, but nothing he did seemed to even slow his Uncle down. “Get off of me!” he screamed, throwing his head back. He knew if he got in that car his world would come to an end. As his struggles grew more intense, Vernon once more resorted to violence.

He turned Harry around again and punched him in the face, twice, completely dazing Harry, and threw him in the car.

“No!” Harry heard the scream from somewhere beyond his foggy vision and recognized a moment later that it belonged to Fred.

The next thing he was aware of was movement from the car, and he realized they were driving away. He was in the hands of his insane Uncle and a lone tear streamed down his face.

…………………………………………

Harry felt the car roll to a stop, the squeak of the roughly halted vehicle bringing his worrying thoughts back to the present. It had been a bit before the pain blossoming behind his eyes receded enough for him to take in his surroundings. How did his uncle always know to hit him just there? Practice, he answered morosely. But the abrupt turns and jostling of the car against his fresh bruises had finally made him look for an escape, only to find that the lock to his left had obviously been broken or jammed. The entire ride had been eerily silent, Vernon never even looked at him, and somehow that made it even more frightening.

Now, as Harry looked out the window, he realized they were in a deserted, shady, back street. Harry was nearly hyperventilating, his heart pounding so hard he felt his whole chest ache with the effort.

“W-what do you want?” he managed to ask. “How did you find me?”

Vernon spat, “I saw you in that bookstore, trying to help that little brat find his parents!” He paused, a look of grief passing over his features before they contorted again with hatred, “You killed them,” grinding from between his teeth.

Harry shook his head in denial; he knew Vernon meant his wife and son. “No, I didn’t! That wasn’t my fault! It was Voldemort!” he yelled back. He cried out as Vernon slapped him hard across the face.

“Shut your damn mouth!” he roared, slapping Harry again to enforce his words. “You, YOU brought that evil into my house. That thing would never have come but for you! I knew we should’ve gotten rid of you from the start, but Petunia …” he trailed off, a choked cry, “Petunia …”

Harry moved as far from his uncle as the seat allowed. “You’re the reason they’re dead,” muttered Vernon, his eyes raking over Harry.

“I-I’m sorry.” Sadly, Harry believed it, too. After all, without Harry, Voldemort would have had no reason to target the Dursleys from any other muggles. “I’m sorry,” he said again quietly, hoping to placate his uncle’s rage.

“You’re going to be,” Vernon growled dangerously. Harry felt his insides turn to liquid as he realized how truly trapped he was, with someone who would like nothing more than to beat him to death, someone with little left to lose. Suddenly Harry was hauled up to Vernon’s face as he spat, “I’ve wanted to get my hands on you just one last time, dreamt of it. You’re going to regret the day you were ever left on my doorstep, Freak.”

Harry had a second of thinking that he’d been regretting that for years, before Vernon once again slammed his fist into the side of his head, landing his small body across the seat. Then Vernon was on top of him, grabbing a fistful of his shirt, ready to hit him again. Vernon’s weight pressed down upon Harry and flashes of intense fear and sensation stole through him.

Heavy, so heavy, can’t breathe

He gasped as the memories assaulted his vision.

PAIN…long forgotten

PAIN…shoved deep away

No! Please, DON’T! I’ll do anything! I’ll be good! Please, Uncle!…Of a sweating, heaving body pressed hard against his chest…no, his back?…he fought, so hard, but it never helped, he couldn’t get away,

PAIN…excruciating pain, ripping him apart…hands crushing into his hips

Knees and elbows scraping against the floor…Breath, rank upon his neck

Harry cried out in horror, his body convulsing, “Nooooooooo,” he moaned, “Nooooo, oh God, please, Nooooo.” He was choking, gasping as he feebly pushed against the man above him.

Impossibly wide, green eyes, bright with terror met those of Vernon as a slow grin broke across his face. “So, you disgusting, little bastard,” breathed Vernon, “You do remember your lessons after all.” He was so sure that the beating he gave the boy after getting those letters had finally put the brat in his place; ensured that he would never risk telling anyone. But then he wondered if he hadn’t damaged the boy, the way he acted as if he might not even remember those times when his uncle taught him his true place. But now, it was all there, in the eyes below him. He saw the terror, the revulsion, the memories clearly reflected there and he relished in the thrill that went through him again.

When he had seen the boy in the store, it was all he could do not to strangle him then; but he had waited, waited until he could enjoy killing the miserable wretch with his own hands and savor it. Now he had the boy, the cause of all his troubles, he knew it. His hands found their way to Harry’s throat, closed around the thin neck, felt the bones shift beneath his fingers and again, that thrill coursed through him. He released his grip in favor of tearing Harry’s shirt open. The feel of flesh under his fingers caused him to stiffen with excitement; oh, how he had missed this. One hand held against the pale chest, supporting his weight, Vernon dropped his other hand to the zip of his breeches, wheezing with arousal as he did so.

Harry had been paralyzed; it couldn’t be true, it couldn’t, it . . . was. He felt Vernon press against him, cover him, smother him – and then those hands, hands he now remembered in detail – he couldn’t breathe! His vision grayed, but his mind was overwhelmed . . .

As Vernon’s hands wandered over his body, Harry’s mind drifted as the air was forced from his small form, leaving him struggling to draw in a single breath. He felt the hand dip down towards his trousers and tried to knock the hand away, but Vernon was easily able to trap his wrist in one beefy hand. Knowing he was on the verge of passing out, he untangled his other arm from underneath him and pushed weakly at the large hand still pressing down on his chest. It was a futile effort, and Harry felt his consciousness slipping away when the grating sound of a zipper pulsed through his thoughts.

‘No.’

He’d momentarily forgotten where he was, that he wasn’t just a child with no way to defend himself. He remembered then, he was a wizard. A very powerful one at that. But he was so tired he didn’t know if he could summon the power or energy to pull off the type of performance he’d done before. However, all thoughts ceased to exist and his roaring power surged to life as he felt that hand reaching into his trousers and touching him. Unbeknownst to Harry, his back arched and his eyes glowed a fierce white.

One moment, Vernon had been about to savor his prize when in the next instant he felt a searing pain as he was viciously thrown from the car. He hit the driver’s side door with an impact that ripped the door from the car and landed nearly a block away.

Harry gulped in as much air as his lungs would allow, gingerly sitting up. He looked down and saw the state he was in. A shudder swept through him as he re-zipped his pants and pulled what was left of his shirt around his thin frame before climbing from the car. Across the street, he could see what was left of his Uncle lying prone on the grass. He gasped in shock as the form started to move.

“No,” he moaned, starting to run down the street and away from his attacker. He never once looked back, too afraid he’d see the man of his nightmares chasing after and catching up with him.

Hermione glanced back at one of her best friends, his dark hair blowing in the slight wind, as his face remained tilted down towards the sidewalk. She was still upset with Harry for just disappearing on them like that. It was still so dangerous for him to be off by himself, anything could have happened. He could have been taken, or worse, killed. She just couldn’t stand the thought of not having Harry in her life any longer. These mad urges to run off on his own simply had to stop.

She glanced at her other best friend, currently strolling down the sidewalk beside her. As if sensing her gaze, he glanced in her direction and gave a half smile. “What’s he doing?” he asked, not daring to glance back. He wanted to talk to Harry so badly, but was afraid he’d let his annoyance come out and say something he’d definitely regret.

“Just walking,” she said slowly. “I’m starting to feel bad for yelling at him, Ron,” she mumbled, taking another glance in Harry’s direction.

“You shouldn’t feel bad for that. He’s got to realize that he’s still in danger…” he trailed off, looking Hermione in the eyes. “I really thought Death Eaters had taken him from the bookstore for a minute there. That place was so big and I couldn’t find him anywhere. I know he can take care of himself, but if he’d really been taken, how would he be able to defend himself against a bunch of hex-happy Death Eaters?” he huffed angrily.

Hermione just shrugged. “He’s Harry, he always seems to find a way,” she said, her eyes staring at something only she could see. “But, his luck can only last for so long.”

“Exactly.”

Hermione sighed again, looking sad. “Still, he was just trying to help that little kid and we jumped down his throat for it. We should have given him the benefit of the doubt instead of jumping to conclusions that, and you’ve got to admit, we’re a little bit excessive. We’re in Muggle London, what would Death Eaters be doing here? They wouldn’t even know Harry was around after being practically a recluse for the past month or so, let alone know the Bookstore he just so happened to be in. The Death Eaters are in hiding and besides, it would be too dangerous for them to show their faces on a crowded street,” she explained, continuing to look back at her friend.

Ron remained silent, taking in everything his friend had said. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, and before he even realized he’d done it, his arm was sliding behind Hermione’s shoulders. She looked up at him in surprise, but smiled at him when the arm stayed where it was. She leaned into his embrace and wrapped her own arm around his waist.

“Should we apologize?” he finally asked after an indeterminate amount of time.

Hermione looked back at her raven-haired friend, just as a man started yelling.

“Ron!” she exclaimed, pulling out of his embrace in the same instant he began to pull away from her. Her hand went to her mouth in horror. Harry.

………………………………

George sighed as his twin continued to look angry. Ever since they’d left the Bookstore, all Fred had done was stalk down the road beside him. He wouldn’t even talk to him, which wasn’t like his brother at all. He glanced back at Harry and noticed how dejected he looked.

“Are you still huffing about because of Harry disappearing on us?” he asked, and was startled when Fred looked up at him with annoyance clear to see in his eyes.

“It was a stupid thing for him to do!” exclaimed Fred, his face nearly turning a deeper shade of red due to his anger. “Anything could have happened.”

“But it didn’t. He didn’t even leave the Bookstore. I mean, I could understand if he’d left, but he hadn’t. He was helping some kid,” said George, feeling the need to defend Harry in the face of Fred’s ire. “And besides, this is Harry we’re talking about. He’s the most powerful wizard we know!”

Fred bristled and turned to face his twin. “It doesn’t matter how powerful he is, George! Did you know that he didn’t even realize he’d killed Voldemort? Harry hadn’t even been paying attention to him! He was saving Snape, and the only reason he’s still alive today is because he just so happened to invoke his powers at the precise moment Voldemort sent the Killing Curse his way. He could be dead right now!” he hissed, trying to keep his voice down so no one could hear. He’d overheard his parents talking about just this subject only a week ago. He’d been devastated to hear how close Harry had come to dying. He was too reckless.

George looked nearly as aghast as Fred when he’d first heard his parents talking. “What? You’re serious?”

“Of course, I’m serious. I wouldn’t joke about it,” he said quietly. “He never thinks before he acts.”

“Well, he could still basically protect himself, though, right?”

Fred shrugged. “According to Harry, it takes a lot of concentration to produce the kind of magic it took to save his father. So, as long as he’s got time to concentrate,” he said hotly.

“Oh, leave off him!” exclaimed George, getting annoyed at his brother by this point. “He was trying to help that kid. Why, exactly, are we so pissed at him? It happened, it’s over, no harm, no foul…all that crap. He’s fine, so why do you all continue to make him feel bad?” he asked, just as hotly, jerking his thumb towards Harry.

Fred followed George’s thumb with his eyes and ended up looking at Harry once more. Seeing him looking so depressed made him feel extremely guilty for griping all this time. He exhaled slowly. “I just worry about him. After everything that’s happened before this, any time he disappears, I worry. I know he can handle himself, but sometimes, he can’t. He’s just a kid, and I think a lot of people forget that some times.”

“Yeah, I know it. He’s been hurt so many times you can’t help but feel protective. Hell, I even feel protective,” said George, smiling a bit.

“I wish he’d come up here and talk to us,” remarked Fred.

George snorted. “He probably could sense your anger a mile away. I doubt he’d come up here, especially with everyone else still a little peeved as well,” said George, indicating the rest of their group. “Would you?”

Fred couldn’t blame Harry for keeping his distance. “No, I wouldn’t. Come on, maybe we…” he was cut off as a man started yelling behind them. He saw Ron and Hermione suddenly turn in their direction, but they were staring over the twins’ shoulders at something behind them. The looks on their faces made them turn around immediately. Fred cursed.

………………………………..

Draco didn’t see what the big deal was. Looking around him, he could just see the anger, frustration, and worry battling over possession on everyone’s faces. And then there was Harry, the one who had the predominate look of melancholy down to an art form. If he looked any more depressed, Draco himself thought he might cry just from Harry’s expressions alone.

But honestly, they were seriously over-reacting to this entire situation. Harry didn’t need anyone’s permission to go put a kid where he rightfully belonged, back in his parents’ protection. He was perfectly safe doing that. At least, Draco thought so. When his parents were still with him, he’d leave without telling them all the time. Nothing had ever happened to him. And they’d been in a Bookstore, for Merlin’s sake. What could possibly happen in a grungy, old bookstore? Absolutely nothing. They were boring places were only boring things happened.

Except that kid had gotten lost, and Harry had disappeared, if only for a few minutes. And, he had to admit, once Harry’s friends had started getting all anxious, he’d grown worried as well. But, Harry had turned up almost right away, in less than ten minutes, and everything had been fine. That time.

Taking a deep breath, Draco felt himself getting pulled into the others’ worry as he let his thoughts wander to what could have happened to the raven-haired teen. His friend. Someone who had a tendency to get hurt, through no fault of his own.

All at once, his thoughts were shattered by a loud yell. He turned around before he had a chance to think and saw something that made his blood run cold. It was one thing to hear about him, but another idea entirely to actually see the bulging man in all his hideous glory. And he’d hit Harry.

………………………………….

Mr. Weasley knew he should have been keeping a better eye on Harry, honestly, what kind of wizard was he that he couldn’t even keep track of one child? He was upset with himself for letting Harry slip past his guards when he went to help that little boy. Granted, Harry had a very viable reason for leaving them, but it wouldn’t have taken more than a minute to inform his friends where he was going.

Now, he felt a little bad at seeing the way the trip had gloomed for all involved. Harry especially. The poor child was trailing behind the rest of them, looking sullen. He supposed in retrospect that he shouldn’t have gotten quite so angry with him. Harry was such a sweet kid; it was exceptionally hard to stay upset with him. But, now he was beginning to realize he’d made Harry feel bad for doing the right thing, despite the fact he hadn’t told anyone where he was going and he’d still been doing the right thing by finding that boy’s parents.

And now he’d have to tell Severus Snape what had happened with Harry, bringing the possibility of more trouble for the boy, trouble, which he didn’t really deserve. He was just about to go and talk to the smaller teen when an angry yell startled him from his reverie.

“Hey! Leave that kid alone!” Arthur, along with the rest of the teenagers had all spun around at the voice, wondering what in the blazes was going on, when the unknown man yelled again. “What the hell are you doing!”

At the sight that beheld them all, Mr. Weasley broke into a run without any thought. Harry was down on the ground, blood trickling from a split lip, with an enraged man standing over him looking rather vicious. In the moment it took for him to pull out his wand, Vernon Dursley had picked up his nephew and thrown him in the car. By the time he’d taken aim on the beefy man, he’d already sprawled gracelessly into the vehicle and was pulling out into oncoming traffic.

…………………………….

Fred and George whipped their wands from their sleeves as they saw what was happening to their friend. It was a breath-stopping shock to see Vernon punch Harry in the face, sending the small body slumping into Vernon’s arms.

Fred screamed. “No!”

Unthinkingly, Fred raised his wand to cast a spell at the speeding car, but a hand was suddenly pushing his arm down and the spell went south. “What the hell are you doing!” he screamed, turning around to push away the supposed offender, only to discover it was Hermione, looking rather upset herself.

“You’ll cause a crash if you do that!” she screamed back, nearly hysterical, but rational enough to realize if Fred’s spell had hit the car, it would have caused a wreck. “There’s too much traffic! You can’t do that, Harry could have been killed!” she continued to scream.

Fred pushed her hand off his arm. “He’ll be hurt any ways!” he yelled back, his hand flying in the direction the car had just sped off in. “That was his Uncle! You know what he’ll do to him!”

Hermione started sobbing then, and Fred sighed in frustration. Ron was glowering at him, but looking just as distressed as the rest. Fred pulled Hermione to his side and gave her a quick hug. “Hush now, we’ll figure this out. I didn’t meant to yell,” he apologized quietly, handing her over to Ron as he approached.

“We’ll never find them in this traffic,” started Mr. Weasley, his face pale. “We need to get to the Leaky Cauldron. Severus is waiting there for us,” he said quietly, running a hand roughly down his face.

Draco had been standing on the sidewalk, staring down the road from whence the car had disappeared. It had been such a shock to see Harry being hit like that, the way his father used to hit him. He turned back to the others, his face gone so pale he nearly appeared translucent. “Severus will know what to do,” he said shakily. He couldn’t imagine what could be happening to Harry right now. He knew the boy could handle himself, but somehow, in the face of your own family, your magic always seemed insignificant compared to them. Would Harry be able to fight him off? He wasn’t prepared to lose Harry, not when he’d just found him.

The group quickly made their way down the streets, Hermione in the lead. She was moving so fast the others were having a hard time keeping up with her, but no one stopped to ask her to slow down. They were in too much of a hurry to find Snape and Mrs. Weasley. They needed help and they knew it. And Harry. What was that bastard doing to him? It had been nearly fifteen minutes since Harry had been violently pulled into his Uncle’s car. They had heard of the abuse, they had even imagined what it might have been like, but none of them had ever seen it first hand. They had never imagined the violence Vernon Dursley would dish out just to abduct his nephew. How hard he would hit him! The anger and hate they saw in his eyes, all of it focusing on Harry. They had never imagined how small Harry was compared to the monster that was his Uncle or just how defenseless he was when up against something like that.

“We’re almost there!” yelled Hermione suddenly, craning her neck behind her to see if they were paying attention. They were, obviously. Shoving the door opened, they each piled in, eyes roving the customers already seated at the tables and at the bar. It was packed.

“MUM!” yelled Ron, having caught a glimpse of red hair near the stairs to the upstairs bedrooms. Finally, they made out three figures moving towards them, slowly at first, and then speeding up when they saw the distressed look upon all their faces.

“Where’s Harry?” asked Severus, having done a mental head count and finding one missing. He didn’t see that wild raven-hair anywhere in the lot of them. His heart nearly caught in his throat.

“Severus, Harry…he was kidnapped,” started Mr. Weasley.

“Kidnapped? What do you mean? Who, who took him?” he asked, growing more and more alarmed at the looks adorning their faces.

“Severus,” Mr. Weasley was using his ‘calm’ voice, but it only served to make Snape even more upset.

”Where is he!” he yelled, stilling the entire room behind them.

Mrs. Weasley gave them a stern look and they all went back to their earlier conversations, though some still tried to eavesdrop.

Finally, Ron took center stage. “Professor Snape, it was his Uncle who took him,” he said shakily, his heart still beating erratically from the rush here and the horrified moment when Vernon Dursley had ripped Harry from them.

Snape stood motionless.

“Severus?” Mrs. Weasley lightly touched his arm, but he merely brushed it off.

“What?” he asked, needing clarification.

Draco suddenly pushed his way through them and grasped Severus’ sleeve, gaining his attention. Releasing his godfather, Draco began to tell him what had happened, everything from the mysterious mans’ yell to when Vernon had pulled Harry into the car.

Snape couldn’t allow himself to think. To think would be a moment when he would realize what could possibly be happening to his son, and he couldn’t afford that to happen. “Where did you last see him?” he asked, his face a mask of stoicism.

“It was just a few blocks from here,” said Hermione. “I can take you back there, if you’d like?” she asked, wanting to help in any way possible.

“That would be appreciated, thank you, Ms. Granger,” he said politely.

“Should I contact Dumbledore?” asked Mr. Weasley, watching Severus’ face expectantly. He knew what the man was doing, hiding his emotions as it were, and at the moment, it wasn’t such a bad idea, it would allow focus, at least for the time being.

“It wouldn’t hurt. Harry’s not only in danger from his Uncle, but any Death Eaters that might discover he’s missing, as well. And, the more we have working on this, hopefully, the more quickly we’ll find Harry,” said Mrs. Weasley, echoing Severus thoughts.

Ginny was sent to the fireplace to contact Dumbledore and anyone else who could help them.

Not ten minutes later, the Leaky Cauldron’s customers were diminishing as more and more Order members filed in through the fireplace.

“Heard Potter was missing,” stated Mad-Eye Moody, his wooden leg clunking along as he walked towards them. “What happened?” he asked gruffly.

Ron tried to explain to the accumulating crowd of Order members and Hogwarts Staff, but the din just grew too loud. Everyone was talking at once, trying to determine what was going on. Finally, he’d had enough.

“Shut up!” he roared. That was enough to shock the entire room into absolute silence. You could have heard a pin drop. “Harry’s damn Uncle has taken him! That’s what’s going on! If you’d shut your flapping jaws for more than a minute, you’d know that!” he continued to rant, oblivious to the opened-mouthed expressions on nearly everyone present. “Listen! It’s been over thirty minutes since he was taken! We need to start a plan, now!” he finally came to a close, having noticed the flabbergasted look on his parents’ faces. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly, but not regretting it at all.

“Well said, Weasley,” stated Moody.

Ron just nodded, not sure how to take the compliment, and began strategizing with Snape, who had become unnaturally calm, considering what was transpiring. But, Ron could see how it was affecting the older man, just from this alone. He could only assume the man was keeping his fear for his son to himself; otherwise he would crumble in the breeze. It was so easy to see now, just how much Snape loved Harry. He felt ashamed to have ever thought Severus would hurt his best friend.

“All right. I believe the best option is to split up. Everyone has a description of the car Harry was taken in and a picture of Vernon Dursley. If you spot the vehicle, Harry, or Dursley, send a red balloon into the air.”

The balloon had been Hermione’s idea. When they realized they couldn’t just send up sparks as a signal, it would be too conspicuous, she had thought up the idea of a balloon. It wouldn’t be all that unnatural to see a balloon in the sky, whereas any type of light show would draw too much attention.

Splitting into pairs, the group went off in their own direction, hoping to see any sign of the teen.

Severus had followed Hermione back to the scene of the abduction. Upon arrival, it was as if nothing had happened there. People were bustling down the street; cars drove past, no one any wiser to the fact that a child had been ripped from the safety of his friends and family at this very spot. Except, there was a man now hurrying up to them.

“Did you find him?” asked a man wearing an old t-shirt and jeans. Fred was the first to recognize who this person was.

“You’re the one who tried to stop him,” he said softly. “No, we haven’t found him yet.”

The man frowned, looking back over his shoulder as the woman he had been with earlier came walking over. “Hello,” she said, looking tense.

“I’m Jason, and this is Auriona, my wife. I’m so sorry I didn’t get to that boy sooner,” he said helplessly.

Snape finally realized this must be the man who had yelled, getting the Weasley’s and Ms. Granger’s attention in the first place. “I’m that boy’s father,” he said shortly, his tone coming out harsher than he’d intended. Stress did that to a person.

Jason, startled by this man’s sudden intensity, gazed at them apologetically. “Is there anything we can do to help?” he asked, feeling the need to do something. “We stayed close, hoping the car your son had been pulled into would drive past again…or something. I’m very familiar with the surroundings if you might need any help searching,” he said, having noticed they seemed a bit lost. He wasn’t sure if the feeling was from actually being unfamiliar with these streets or having a child kidnapped right before their eyes. Perhaps it was both.

“Did you see what happened? Or where the man came from?” asked Mr. Weasley. He’d been wondering why they hadn’t noticed Harry’s Uncle on the side of the road. When they’d all noticed what was happening, Vernon Dursley had already begun to abuse Harry. He shuddered at the memory of that monster slamming his fist into Harry’s face. He couldn’t wait to find the child he considered as his own son and have him safely in their protective embrace once more.

“Actually, I remember noticing your son,”

Ron interrupted, “His name is Harry,” he said suddenly.

Jason nodded. “Okay. I saw Harry kneeled down tying his shoe. The only reason I even noticed him was because this big man had suddenly climbed out of his car. He looked really, really hateful, and he had been staring right at this kid…Harry,” he looked at them all sadly. “It all happened so fast. I could tell the second the man set eyes on your Harry that he wanted to hurt him. I’m sorry I didn’t get there sooner.”

Hermione returned the sad look, a thought in her mind that just wouldn’t go away no matter how many times she tried to push it away. She just had to know. “Sir?” she asked.

Jason looked at her expectantly.

“H-how did…Harry had a split lip,” she trailed off, feeling awful for even wanting to know.

“You want to know what happened?” he asked. Hermione nodded her head, noticing everyone else was looking at them now.

“The man had grabbed him, and the kid…Harry, he starting fighting back almost instantly. So, the man spun him around and slapped him across the face. Harry fell to the ground, and you saw the rest,” he said, shrugging, still wishing he’d been able to do more. That man had hit him so hard…and who had he been? “May I ask…who was that man?” he wasn’t sure if he should even ask the question, but he’d been wondering ever since the boy had been pulled into the car. It had been obvious they knew each other.

“It was his Uncle,” said an older redheaded gentleman, solemnly.

“Oh,” replied Jason, stunned. He refused to ask any more questions. This really wasn’t any of his business, but he’d felt compelled to stick around. “Have you called the police?” he asked suddenly.

Severus looked at the others and then noticed the Headmaster coming up from behind Jason and his wife. “Any news?” he asked. Albus ignored the astonished looks from the man and woman standing before him.

“Ah, no.”

Dumbledore nodded his head. He’d donned a muggle outfit, but with his long white beard, many people had stared at him obtrusively, despite his attempt to blend in. “The authorities have been made aware of the situation,” said Albus, wondering just who these muggles were. He’d heard the man’s question and answered truthfully. The authorities had been notified, just not the ones the young man before him had been referring to.

“Jason, we should get out of their way,” said Auriona silently.

Jason nodded, not wanting to interfere with their search. “If you don’t need any help, then?” he asked. At their reply in the negative, he and his wife left, but not before handing out their phone number asking one of them to call when they found the boy. “We just want to make sure he’s all right,” he said silently, wondering if they’d ever get a call, and hoping they would.

………………………

It had been over an hour now since Harry had gone missing and still no word had been heard.

Severus wasn’t sure how much longer he could maintain his stoic facade. His son was in the hands of his Uncle, whom he knew to have abusive tendencies, and there was nothing he could do to protect him.

Moody and Tonks had returned a few minutes prior with no news on Harry’s whereabouts.

“Where could they be?” asked Mr. Weasley, feeling just a little desperate now. They had to be somewhere. Why couldn’t they find him?

He noticed Severus was beginning to grow frustrated at their lack of any news. He couldn’t blame him, either. Everyone he could possibly spare had come out to help find Harry Potter, and yet still no one had seen hide nor hair of the boy. Where could he possibly be?

Severus’ still form had taken to pacing the sidewalk, nearly wearing a permanent groove into the pavement, it seemed. He suddenly turned on his heel and faced Dumbledore.

“Severus,” Albus started gently, trying to placate the man, only to be cut off.

“No, Albus. Nothing you say right now will possibly make me calm!” he spat, knowing the man’s ways and that voice. He was as far from calm as was humanly possible. “My son is out there with that man,” he hissed the word. “And you know as well as I do that when we find Harry…” he abruptly stopped talking, unable to voice his fears…that it was quite possible Harry would be seriously injured. That the boy was alone, without anyone to help him, and was probably in pain at this very moment nearly brought down all of Severus’ carefully placed barriers. He kept picturing in his mind what Vernon Dursley could be doing to his son…hurting him, hitting him, inflicting harm with his hateful words. “We have to find him!”

“We will, Severus. Mark my words, Harry will be found, and retribution will be swift and painful for that man if he has hurt a hair on that boy’s head. I can promise you that!” stated Dumbledore emphatically. It was in moments like these that everyone present could see just how powerful and frightening the headmaster could be. No one wanted to be on the receiving end of that anger.

Severus nodded, but refused to make eye contact. They had searched the entire area and then some, but no one had seen his son. No one had seen Vernon Dursley. Severus roughly pulled his hand through his black hair; his facade was beginning to wither as his stress grew. Suddenly feeling restless, he began to walk aimlessly, any child with black hair seemingly calling out to him as they past. But, it was never Harry; it was someone else’s child, safe in their parent’s protective embrace, where his own son should be. He turned towards a large building down the street, and stopped in his tracks as he saw someone belt around the corner in their direction, nearly slip and fall as he used his hands to regain his balance, only to run full hilt down the sidewalk, limping as he went.

At first he hadn’t been sure, but as the small, disheveled form grew closer, he knew for certain who it was. “Harry!” he bellowed.

……………………………..

Harry ran blindly. Not paying attention to his surroundings, hell, he didn’t even know where he was. His only thought and instinct was to get to his father. He would be safe in Severus’ arms, if only he could find him. Breathing hard, tears still streaming unchecked down his pale cheeks, Harry fled from his attacker. Glancing over his shoulder, he was thankful to not see the big hulking form chasing after him. Hopefully, he was down for the count and would remain there. Harry didn’t know what he would do if he saw his Uncle again.

His entire body ached and his ankle was killing him. He’d somehow sprained it as he’d flown from the car in his haste to escape, and the constant pressure put on it from running only made it hurt all the more. But, he wouldn’t stop, not until he was safe.

Still unsure of where he was, but unwilling to stop to ask any of these shady looking people for directions, Harry ran as fast as his legs would carry him. A few people tried to stop him, probably to try and help, but Harry flew by without stopping, screaming in fear if someone so much as laid a hand on him. They’d stopped then, thankfully, allowing Harry to run freely. But, he was still lost with no idea how to get back to the Leaky Cauldron. And he was so scared. It was long past four in the afternoon now, he could tell from a brief glance at his watch. He briefly wondered what his friends were doing; how things had gone when they’d told his father he’d been kidnapped by his…Unc…Vernon. He couldn’t stand to even think of the man as his Uncle, as his family, especially now that he’d remembered all those things he’d tried to forget. He shuddered at the memories and violently pushed them to the back of his mind. He wouldn’t think on it.

He desperately wanted to find his father. The streets around him still remained unfamiliar and Harry’s heart raced painfully inside his chest. Where the hell was he? He glanced around in every direction, coming to a hesitant stop in front of a small café on the street corner. There was an older gentleman sitting outside underneath an umbrella, reading a newspaper. He was the only one there, and the café seemed deserted. Tentatively, he approached the man and stood in front of him, waiting for him to acknowledge his presence. Finally, the older man looked up and smiled a crooked smile.

“Can I help you, boy?” he asked. He seemed pleasant enough and Harry felt the man wasn’t any type of threat, even though Harry himself was feeling very insecure at the moment. He’d ask and get out quickly.

“S-sir, do you k-know where Longheart’s Bookstore is l-located?” he asked, his nerves causing him to stutter. He knew if he could find the bookstore they’d visited earlier, he’d be able to get back to the Leaky Cauldron fairly easily.

The older gentleman slowly lowered the newspaper as he finally got a good look at the boy in front of him. He looked absolutely horrible, bruised and bloody; his shirt ripped to shreds and was looking rather lost and hurt. “What happened to you?” he asked, standing up quickly to assist the boy.

Harry immediately stepped away as the man tried to come towards him.

“Are you all right?” he asked, reaching out to pull Harry towards him. It was the wrong thing to do, he realized, as the boy’s eyes grew large and fearful and he jerked away. “Hey!” he yelled as the boy was suddenly running away from him. “The bookstore, lad!” he yelled, causing the boy to come to a stop a few feet away. “It’s just down the road about half a mile from here. Look for the big blue sign!” he yelled as the dark-haired teen ran from him. He sighed as the boy disappeared from view, hoping he’d find his way.

Harry was running again, his thoughts wild and erratic. He could sense someone behind him, but looking back, no one was there. The old man was gone, the café long out of sight, so where was this feeling coming from? He stopped once more, in the middle of the street, and looked distractedly down all the side roads. It was eerily quiet and Harry suddenly felt a strong urge to start running again…as if his very life depended on it. He saw a dark shape down the road behind him, in the shadows, and Harry nearly screamed as he realized who it was.

No, no, no, his mind screamed as his Uncle came charging up the road, having been spotted. He’d been hurt, how was he running like that? It should be impossible. Harry’s magical surge should have left him unconscious at the least. Obviously not, as the man was gaining ground on the limping boy.

“No, no, please no,” he whimpered to himself, no one else was around to hear him. He saw a large building in front of him, and just above that, he saw a big blue sign. He let out a desperate sob at the sight. He was almost there! The pounding feet behind him sent him into an extra burst of speed, frantically trying to reach his father before that man laid another finger on him. He wouldn’t be able to stand it. Just as he was about to reach the edge of the large brick building, he felt something grab the back of his shirt, nearly knocking him off his feet and he was wrenched backwards. He let out an involuntary scream and fell to his knees, at the same time yanking his shirt out of the man’s hands. Instantly on his feet again, he flew around the corner of the building, his heart racing, tears streaming once more down his pale cheeks, his ankle hurting worse than ever, but Harry managed to ignore it. He nearly tripped as he turned the corner, scrapping his already sore palms on the pavement, and then he was up and moving again. And then he saw him.

And his father saw Harry.

“Harry!”

The sob escaped his lips as soon as he saw his father. He needed him so much, and as his father’s eyes widened in shock and rage, he knew the man had seen his Uncle chasing after him. “Dad!” he screamed, his legs on the verge of collapsing beneath him. ‘Dad, please come get me.’

As if reading his thoughts, Severus bolted towards his son, flanked by the Order and Harry’s friends’ just behind.

The state Harry was in sent each person there into a rage. Especially Harry’s reaction when he finally reached his father.

“Dad, Dad, Dad!” he screamed, and finally Severus was there, grabbing Harry under the arms while lifting him into his warm, safe, embrace. Harry hung limply, his arms clenched tightly around Severus’ shoulders, as he screamed into Snape’s neck. No words, just screams, as he yelled out his fear and adrenaline.

Vernon Dursley never even saw the mass of Witches and Wizards as they descended on him. All he saw was his nephew. And all he wanted to do was hurt him for ruining his life. He reached for the boy but never got any further than that, as suddenly a bright light came flying at him, striking him in the chest. He flew backwards for the second time that day, and landed on the hard sidewalk. Looking up, he finally noticed the predicament he was in, and his eyes grew fearful as the group of menacing freaks descended upon him.

“He deserved what he got!” he bellowed, crab walking backwards, trying to get away from them all. His hateful words only served to enrage the group further and he tried fruitlessly to gain his feet, but his rather large frame wasn’t allowing it very well.

“How dare you do that to him!” shrieked a robust woman, stalking up to him, a wand trained at his head. He cringed at the fierce looking woman, and the others surrounding her. “You’ll pay for hurting him!”

Another man came up and discreetly cast another spell on the man, causing him to scream in agony.

“Moody!” yelled Minerva, allowing the indecent act for one moment longer; the bastard deserved it, before pushing his wand down. “He’ll go to Azkaban for this, where he belongs,” she stated firmly. It wouldn’t do to have charges brought up against them, though she doubted anyone would really mind if this cretin was brought forth a little worse for the wear.

A tiny shout brought their attention back towards Severus and Harry, causing a new wave of anger to fill them as they realized what was going on. The smug smile on Vernon Dursley’s face was cause enough for another painful hex to be sent his way.

Fred, Ron, and Hermione were standing a small distance away from Severus and their best friend. Fred had tried to gently touch Harry’s back, only to result in the teen flinching violently and crying out in fear. Fred instantly pulled his hand back, looking horrified.

“Harry?” he asked, stepping closer.

Severus shook his head and pulled Harry closer to him. He wondered why Harry was only allowing him to touch him, but at the moment, he was just glad the boy was letting him. He looked across the street where the other members and a few of the younger Weasley’s were keeping Vernon Dursley securely at bay. “I’m taking him home,” he said quietly, a glare already in place as he met eyes with his son’s supposed family. He looked entirely too pleased with himself.

“Have fun fixing him,” Dursley said hatefully, but a swift kick in the face shut him up. Severus couldn’t tell who had struck out, but was thankful that they had, as Harry had tensed up in his arms at the sound of his Uncle’s voice.

“It’s all right,” he whispered into the teen’s ear, and quickly ushered Harry’s friends ahead of him. “Let’s go.”

He left the others to deal with the scum still lying on the ground, moaning pitifully at the pain in his face. Severus wished he could cause the man more pain, as his son’s appearance left nothing to the imagination. He’d beaten and strangled his son, among other things, leaving red marks that would soon turn into bruises. He barely stifled his rage, fearing he’d only scare Harry more if he sensed his father’s anger. Holding his son closer as he hung limply in his arms, his feet dangling down near Severus’ knees, he turned away from the disgusting man and re-entered the Leaky Cauldron.

Severus quickly entered the house, the fire dimming as he stepped through.

“Master Severus?” Cella was standing in the doorway, looking worried and nervous. “What has happened?” she asked, watching the too-still form he yet carried in his arms. “Is young master Harry all right?” she was wringing her small hands together as she followed the man out of the room, who still hadn’t answered any of her questions. She had to run just to keep up with his long strides.

“Cella, I need you to bring me the emergency kit stored up in the bathroom. Bring it to Harry’s bedroom once you’ve found it,” he instructed, taking the steps two at a time in his haste. “Hurry! Please.” he called behind him.

Once in his son’s bedroom, he began to lower the boy onto the bed, causing Harry to immediately cling tighter to his robes.

“It’s all right, Harry. We’re home now. I’m going to set you down on the bed,” he said slowly, gently sitting down himself before sliding Harry onto the bed beside him.

Harry leaned against his father’s side, wanting the contact, yet wishing he had the strength to pull away. He was so tired now that it was all over, allowing what had happened to sink into his head and his thoughts. The memories he’d tried so hard to suppress had come roaring back to life, and now it was all he could think about. He shuddered violently and finally found the energy to sit up, away from his father.

“Harry?” asked Severus. He’d felt the shudder his son had just experienced. He hoped it was just a chill, but he highly doubted it. “Cella will be here shortly with the potions you’ll need,” he said slowly, knowing Harry wasn’t ready to talk about the subject he himself so desperately wanted to discuss. He wanted to know what had happened, he needed to know, so he could fix the damage Harry’s Uncle had done once more. Why couldn’t he have just left the child alone? Was it so much to ask? Harry was such a lovingly sweet child, how could anyone purposely seek to hurt him? It was something Severus asked himself quite often, yet the answer seemed beyond him, as these things kept happening to his son!

He was about to yell for Cella. Honestly, how hard could it possibly be to find the damn potions? They were labeled for Merlin’s sake! He turned towards the door so his voice would carry further, but saw a figure in the doorway from the corner of his eye. “It’s about time, Cella!” he said more harshly than he’d really intended.

“It’s not Cella,” he said slowly, and walked in carrying the potions he’d sent Cella to retrieve.

“Draco! What are you doing here? I thought I asked you to stay with the Weasley’s.” he stated, rather upset at his godson for disobeying him.

Draco didn’t answer for a moment; he was too busy staring at his friend, his brother. Harry looked so awful, the blonde’s heart clenched in sympathy. “I wanted to help,” he said determinedly. Sadly, he knew all too well what it felt like to get pummeled by someone who was supposed to love and take care of you, not hurt you. His father was no better than Harry’s Uncle. But his father’s abuse had never been anything like what he saw with Harry. The raven-haired teen looked completely beaten and unresponsive. Draco saw that Severus was trying to get Harry to drink some kind of potion; from the color he assumed a healing potion. But Harry wouldn’t even open his mouth, let alone acknowledge anyone else was in the room with him. It was quite frightening to see him like this.

“If you insist on staying, try and help me here,” stated Severus, his tone short yet anxious. Harry was worrying him as well with his behavior. This wasn’t the first time Harry had been hurt like this, and yet, he was acting so much worse than Severus had seen before. He wondered what else had transpired with the boy’s Uncle, what he’d said to his son that would cause him to withdraw into himself so.

Draco didn’t know how he could help, but thought he would start by trying to get his friend to take the potion. He picked up the vial Severus had set back down on the nightstand and lifted it to Harry’s mouth. “Come on, Harry. You’ve got to take this,” he said lightly, pressing the vial to his lips. Harry didn’t react at all. Glancing at his godfather, Draco shrugged his shoulders in confusion as Severus warmed a wet cloth with his wand to clean Harry’s face.

All Draco could do was continue to try, so he lifted the vial again. This time he gently tapped Harry’s cheek with his hand. The effect was instantaneous: Harry flinched from the touch and nearly fell straight off the bed.

“Harry!” yelled Draco in alarm, grabbing his arm to keep him steady. His arm was instantly ripped from his grasp as Harry flipped over the side of the bed as if he wasn’t sore and bruised but instead had all the energy in the world. The dull gleam in Harry’s eyes was replaced with a look of timidity and confusion. “Are you all right?” he asked.

A moment of hesitation had Severus carefully approaching the boy from the side. “Harry? You need to get back in bed,” stated Severus. He tried to put his hand on Harry’s shoulder but the teen jerked away and stiffly made his own shaky way back to the bed. His ankle was hurting him badly and his stiff muscles were protesting his sudden movements of just a moment before. As he climbed back on the bed, he turned to face Draco, realizing he’d just shoved him away rather violently.

“S-Sorry,” he said quietly, but the thought of anyone touching him right now left him feeling sick.

Draco nodded as casually as he could and slowly sat on the bed beside the Gryffindor, allowing Harry to see his every move in an effort to make him feel more safe. Now that Harry was more alert, Draco simply handed him the vial. “Drink this,” he instructed as Severus sat down on the other side of them. Harry watched his father guardedly, clearly not wanting to look like a fool if he touched him and Harry flipped. He was mad at himself for fearing them, because he knew they wouldn’t hurt him, not the way his Uncle had. But, the fear remained nonetheless, and he couldn’t seem to stop it from affecting him.

Obediently, Harry downed the vial and placed in carefully back on the bedside table. He felt more than a little claustrophobic with both his father and Draco hovering over him, but it also felt nice to be cared for like this. His father handed him a cloth and he gently wiped it across his hot face, feeling it sting when coming across the large bruise on his cheek from getting punched in the face…then slapped…multiple times.

“Harry?” asked Severus, his voice sounded worried. He glanced up to see they were both watching him anxiously and realized they must have been trying to get his attention, only he’d been focusing on other things.

“Sorry,” he muttered for the second time. He met his father’s eyes and saw a second vial setting on the table, but he could see Severus had poured the substance onto his hands and was trying to tell him something, but once more he’d lost focus. “What?” he asked.

“Harry, I’m going to rub this onto your neck, okay?” he asked, his concern nearly palatable as he watched his son becoming more and more withdrawn.

Harry shook his head in confusion and leaned back. “Why?” he asked, pulling away slightly.

Severus sighed. “Child, there are bruises on your neck,” he replied, noticing how stark the bruises were in contrast to Harry’s pale skin. And, considering how raspy Harry’s voice was when he spoke, he assumed there was more damage than met the eye. The ointment was a must, or he’d have just left the poor child alone.

Harry stared at him for a long while after that, as if debating what he wanted to do. Harry reached his hand up to his throat and gently probed there, swallowing instinctively. It did hurt and the ointment would make it better. Finally, Harry nodded his consent and slowly angled his head back a bit so his father could rub in the thick potion. He fought against his inherent urge to flinch away from the warm hands that were suddenly rubbing at his neck. Thankfully, the ointment was quick to absorb into all layers of the skin and just as he was beginning to get flashes of his time in the car with his Uncle, the hands were gone. He slowly lowered his head and tried to take in a deep breath, realizing now how sore his throat must have been as he could now breathe more freely.

“What happened to your shirt?” Draco suddenly asked, pulling on the fabric that was barely covering him at all. Harry glanced down and stared. He remembered Vernon ripping it open and just as quickly shut his thoughts of that event away. He wouldn’t think on it, not now, and definitely not with an audience.

“I-It must have ripped,” he said quietly, hoping they wouldn’t ask any other questions.

Severus and Draco looked equally disbelieving, but Harry ignored them in favor of prodding at his sore ankle. He wished the pain in his entire body would just disappear and leave him in peace, but the odds of that happening were slim to none.

Severus handed him the ointment, allowing him to rub the thick substance into his bruised face when Harry had flinched from the hand coming in his direction. Afterwards, Harry stood up gingerly from the bed. “Can I take a shower?” he asked, desperately needed an extremely hot shower to wash away his pain and fears and the dirt. He was so dirty. “Please?”

His father nodded and Draco even helped him up off the bed. He was still feeling a bit dizzy and was actually grateful for the help. Draco had been sure to show him with his eyes that he was coming and would help him, which gave him time to steel himself for the unwanted touch, even if it was there to help him. Once in the bathroom, he closed and locked the door behind him, not wanting either of them to barge in on him while he was taking a shower. He also needed some privacy away from the prying eyes of his father and Draco. They just didn’t understand what was going on and he hoped they never would.

He turned on the water to as hot as he could stand it and quickly stripped off his clothes. He grabbed a washcloth from the cupboard and stepped into the shower, feeling the hot water beat down on his abused skin. Grabbing the bar of soap, he lathered the cloth with the soap and took to rubbing his skin with it, no matter how sore he already was. He just couldn’t seem to get clean. He scrubbed everywhere, not realizing just how hard he was scrubbing or that his skin was turning red. The memories spilt into his consciousness, overriding the physical pain, and he scrubbed even harder, tears streaming down his face. How could he have forgotten?

“Harry!” yelled a voice, startling the young man from his horrific memories and pulling him back to the present. “Are you all right in there?”

Harry nodded, forgetting for the moment that no one could see him. Then he shook his head to clear the fog of his thoughts and yelled through the curtain, “I’m fine!” he said, but looking down at his raw skin he realized he was far from fine. “I’ll be out in a minute!” he said after a few minutes had gone by.

“Don’t take too much longer, Harry, I still need to look at your ankle,” his father called through the door.

“Yeah, okay, Dad!” Harry yelled back. He remained under the scalding water for a few moments longer before forcing himself to get out and dry off. He grabbed his clothes from the hook on the back of the door and quickly re-dressed. He sighed disconsolately. He still felt so sullied, so filthy, so... Once again he had to pull his mind away.

Back in his bedroom, his father had lit the fireplace causing the entire room to feel warm and toasty; he should have been appreciative. Any other time it would have relaxed him, and to an extent it did now too, but his thoughts made it incredibly difficult for him to feel calm or happy or even warm. The room may have been warm, but he felt nothing but cold inside.

Severus instructed him to sit back on the bed, and he did so, albeit anxiously. He stretched his leg out as his father retrieved another potion from the emergency kit Draco had brought in. He could only assume it would do something for the sprain in his ankle. Probably heal the ligaments or whatever muscle he had pulled as he dove from the car. He stopped his thoughts from going any further than that. He wished he could push them all away again, like he had before, it was better to not remember than have all these horrible memories keep taunting him when he least expected. He knew there was more that he still hadn’t remembered yet, and he dreaded the day a new memory assaulted him.

As he’d been so unfocused, he wasn’t prepared when Severus reached out to pull up the pant leg on his pajamas. He reacted with a shocked gasp and ripped his leg away from his father, causing a ripple of pain to flare up his leg. He grabbed his ankle, moaning at his stupidity and the pain combined.

“Harry!” Severus gently reached for his son, "Harry, it's just me, I’m just fixing your ankle,” said Severus softly with his hands now on either side of his son’s legs. “It’s all right.”

Nodding, Harry looked across the room, not wanting to see his father’s face, but his eyes met with Draco instead. His friend looked incredibly worried and anxious. Harry gave him a small smile, hoping he didn’t look as drawn out as he felt. Obviously, it worked, for the blonde came closer and re-took his seat on the other side of him.

“Merlin!” exclaimed Severus.

Harry’s head whipped back around and he automatically cringed away from the look on his father’s face. “What were you doing?” he asked, his voice stern and his eyes hard. “Look at your skin!” he exclaimed, holding Harry’s leg gingerly, with the pants leg pulled up to his knee.

The raven-haired teen pulled his leg out of Severus’ grasp. He’d rubbed his skin so hard it practically felt like having sunburn. Before he’d hardly noticed it, as it had made him feel slightly cleaner, but now that he was out of the shower and had clothes on him, the pain was starting to set in.

“Dad,” he started slowly but not knowing how to explain such a thing.

Severus looked horrified. He looked over at Draco and saw the same look on his face. The two of them were both looking distinctly upset at him. But, he hadn’t realized he was scrubbing so hard!

“Harry, why the hell did you leave the water so hot?” asked Draco, thinking his friend had merely stood under scalding water for too long. That was only partially the truth and Harry was more than willing to go with Draco’s idea of what had happened.

Harry couldn’t meet their bewildered gazes any longer as he admitted, “I…I just didn’t…um, realize?”

Severus watched his son in growing concern, how could he not have realized the water was so hot it was literally burning him? He was beginning to suspect Harry might be more dazed from this whole experience than they knew. Severus wanted to get Harry in bed and asleep as soon as possible. His child needed rest and he was beginning to consider bringing in Madame Pomfrey as well. Harry just seemed so out of it, he wasn’t sure what to do for him.

With deliberate care and gentleness, Snape tended to Harry’s ankle, telling the boy in advance what he was about to do. Harry allowed him to do so, but not without flinching several times throughout the entire process. And he still needed to put a burn salve on Harry’s tender skin. He sighed to himself, knowing it wouldn’t be easy for the boy to take. He was so sensitive right now and it seemed that any touch, even if it was gentle, was first thought of as a hurtful one. He grew to hate Dursley more and more every minute.

The burn salve was downstairs in his private laboratory. He didn’t want to leave his son and sent Draco to retrieve it. He must have run, for he was back in the room with the correct salve in less than two minutes.

“Thank you, Draco,” he said quietly, turning to see his son looking more than apprehensive. “This is for your skin, Harry,” he said gently, he still couldn’t fathom how withdrawn from his mind Harry must have been to stand under such hot water and not realize it. Harry insisted on putting on the salve himself and Severus couldn’t deny him a small measure of control, even though he looked on the verge of collapse.

Harry disappeared into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He once more stripped down, feeling extremely exposed and hating it, but left his boxers on, he couldn’t bring himself to take them off even knowing most of the damage were to those parts of his body, as that’s where he scrubbed the hardest. His sore, stiff body was making it incredibly difficult to bend in any given direction and putting on the salve was proving rather difficult. Not that he wasn’t still trying, he was, but even the feel of his own hands was making him cringe. He finished his chest and started on his legs, but the pain and his memories were getting the better of him.

Out of nowhere, tears pooled in his eyes and a sob escaped his lips. He dropped the potion onto the floor and buried his head in his knees with his arms wrapped around his head as if they were the only things that could protect him.

………………………………………………………..

Severus sat down on the couch facing his godson. He felt utterly drained and exhausted. How could a normal day have gone to hell quite so quickly? He remembered how happy Harry had been just this morning, and now he was scared and frightened. Severus dropped his head into his hands.

“Severus?” asked Draco quietly. “Are you okay?”

Severus nodded his head. He was anything but okay, but he couldn’t let out his frustrations with Draco. Only, as it turned out, it didn’t really matter as Draco started talking about the events of the day.

“He hit him so hard,” said Draco out of the clear blue, startling Severus with both the suddenness and the shock in Draco’s voice. “So hard. Father never hit me like that, never outright punched me at least. He had a tendency towards backhanded hits, but never did he hurt me the way Harry’s Uncle hurt him today,” he said slowly. “I wanted to kill him for doing that to Harry.”

Severus sat more stiffly in his chair. “Draco,” started the older man, but the blonde just shook his head.

“I don’t plan on murdering him, Professor. I just want him to hurt the way he hurt Harry.”

“He will, Draco, I promise, he will,” said Severus, and Draco wondered if he wasn’t the one who should be worried about Severus murdering the horrid man. “And your father never should have hit you at all, either. Neither of you have deserved what’s been done to you. Don’t act like what your father did to you was in any way less horrifying than what Harry’s Uncle did to him. The both of you were abused and neither of you deserved it. Do you understand me?”

Draco nodded, looking anywhere but at Severus’ face, and then changed the subject. “Do you think Harry’s going to be okay?”

Snape sighed, knowing what Draco was doing. He’d let it go for now, but this conversation was in no way over with, they’d discuss it later when there wasn’t so much to worry about, as the both of them were too concerned about Harry.

“I believe he will be, eventually, we’ll just have to stay patient with him,” he sighed once more and mumbled into his hands, “I can’t even touch him anymore, it’s worse than when I met him, even. How can I help him if I can’t even hold his hand?” His words stopped suddenly and he tilted his head towards the bathroom door.

Draco wasn’t sure if he was supposed to have heard that or not and didn’t quite know how to reply. He’d heard about Harry’s and Severus’ experience on the Island and that Harry had been hurt there and he even knew about some of Harry’s past with his Uncle. But other than that, he didn’t know much and found himself to be a little curious about what Harry had been like before Severus had adopted him. It took him a moment due to his wandering thoughts that he no longer was in the company of his godfather. Standing up, he saw the older man standing at the bathroom door looking anxious.

“What’s wrong?” asked Draco, immediately jumping over the back of the couch to get to the bathroom. “Is he okay?” he asked, feeling fear build in his heart. As soon as he was closer he could recognize the faint sounds of someone crying. Harry was crying and the door was locked. “Open it!” he exclaimed.

Severus glared at him. “Thank you, Draco. I realize that, and if you’d step back out of my way, maybe I could unlock it!” he growled.

Draco realized he’d practically pushed Snape away from the door in his haste to get there and gave his godfather an apologetic look as he stepped back. “Sorry, sir,” he said slowly.

Snape nodded and pulled his wand on the door. “Alohamora,” he said quickly. He could hear the door unlock and immediately turned the knob. “Stay out here,” he instructed Draco.

“But, Severus!” exclaimed Draco, clearly wanting to protest, but one stern look from the older Slytherin had him backing down and sulking in the doorway. “Fine,” he muttered, but as he could see Harry collapsed on the bathroom floor, he became less hostile towards the man.

Severus’ heart nearly broke at the sight of his son sobbing on the cold, tiled floor. He went quickly to Harry’s side and dropped down on one knee beside him. Up close, he watched in dismay as the boy shivered from the chill and the emotions threatening to tear him apart. “Harry?” he called gently, putting one arm around the boy’s back. The small teen shied away from his touch, but seemed too weak to really fight him on it and he pulled Harry to his chest.

Harry tried to pull away, but Severus’ hold was too strong and he was too tired and despite everything he’d been through, he wanted to be held and to feel safe. He felt his father’s arms beneath him and suddenly he was lifted into the air and cradled against his chest. He allowed it, though just barely, whimpering as pain lapped over his body as his father’s arms touched his bare damaged skin and his strained and tender muscles rebuked him for being moved. He clutched his father’s shoulders as he’d done earlier in the afternoon, feeling as if his father was his only safety. Now that he was being held, he didn’t want to be put down again. He yawned, feeling extremely exhausted after such a long and painful day. All he wanted to do was curl up and sleep and never wake again.

He must have dozed off, for the next thing he knew he was lying on his bed and someone was touching his heated skin.

“No, don’t!” he moaned, rolling away from the touch and curling into a protective ball. Someone touched his back once more and he cried out. “Stop it!”

“Harry, it’s me! It’s Dad, calm down child. You’re safe now. I won’t allow anyone to hurt you. You’re safe,” Severus said, putting down the bottle of burn salve in favor of coaxing his son back from his fears.

Harry listened to his father’s deep soothing voice and felt himself calming down. He hated feeling so scared and turned towards his Dad, wanting the comfort only he could provide, who leaned over and pulled him into a gentle hug. “You’re safe,” he whispered once more into his ear, and Harry felt himself drift off yet again.

……………………………

“Master Severus?” asked Cella from the doorway. Severus looked up from his seat beside Harry’s bed and quickly raised his finger to his lips, indicating the little elf to keep her voice down. “Sorry, sir, but there are visitors in your study,” she said quietly.

Snape growled low in his throat. He knew who it would be, and he could understand their desire to see how Harry was fairing, but give the boy a chance to rest for Merlin’s sake! He stood up and motioned for Draco to take his place beside Harry. “Stay with Harry and notify me immediately if he wakes,” he instructed even as he was striding out the door, Cella fast on his heels. Draco nodded and quietly sat down in his godfather’s empty chair with a book in his hand, wondering what Severus would do with the Weasleys.

Down in the study an anxious group of people stood or sat periodically around the room, watching the door with a keen eye. As soon as it opened, everyone was on his or her feet.

Molly was the first to voice her question. “How’s Harry?” she asked, the worry palatable in her demeanor. She was sick with worry. It was clear the others were as well.

“He’s sleeping, so I’ll have to ask you to keep your voices down,” stated Severus, his voice stern. Instantly the room became more subdued and quiet, no one wanting to wake their hurting friend. He needed all the peaceful sleep he could manage to obtain.

“I want to see him,” said Mrs. Weasley, about reading to march up the stairs straight away.

“So do we!” insisted the younger Weasley’s and even Ms. Granger seemed intent on following them up.

“I told you he’s sleeping!” hissed Severus. Did they not understand this concept? Was it too difficult of a notion to accept that the boy needed his rest after being attacked? Obviously it was, as they still looked undeterred.

“We won’t wake him up, we just want to see him. Please, sir, he’s my best friend and we’re all worried about him. We saw what that bastard did to him before he was pulled into the car. We just want to make sure he’s all right, and quite frankly, I won’t feel better until I see him for myself,” stated Ron Weasley, sounding desperate. “Please?”

Severus sighed. “You can come back tomorrow morning when he’s awake to see him. I’m sorry, but he’s been so restless, I can’t risk him waking up,” he said, not mentioning the fact that if he were to wake up, the Weasley’s would have a front row seat to a panic attack.

Molly looked on the verge of tears. “But, Harry’s all right, isn’t he?” she asked, still desperately wanting to go upstairs and check on him herself. But she completely understood why Severus was hesitant to let them.

“He’ll be fine, I think. I’ve tended to him and he was so exhausted he even fell asleep before I could give him a sleeping potion.”

“But, won’t he have nightmares?” asked Hermione. She knew Harry was prone to nightmares; he had them way too often, in fact, at least in Hermione’s opinion.

“If he wakes up again, I’ll dose him with a Dreamless Sleep, but as I’ve already mentioned, he’s sleeping peacefully now so I don’t want him woken up!” he said, his nerves shot from the entire night’s drama.

“I’m sorry sir, we’re just worried about him,” replied Hermione, tears glistening in her eyes.

Severus sighed for the umpteenth time that evening. “I apologize, Granger. I realize you’re all worried, and I promise you all a visit tomorrow with Harry, so long as he’s up to it. Now, I would like to get some rest tonight as well. If anything changes during the night, I’ll have Cella inform you at once,” he added at their continued looks of worry.

“Thank you, Severus,” said Mr. Weasley, having stayed quietly in the background as his wife attempted to fight her way in to see the boy. He had started feeling immensely guilty for the entire thing. He should have seen Harry’s Uncle, he should have protected him, but he didn’t. He’d do anything in his power to make it up to the boy, anything at all.

Severus nodded and waited until everyone had left via floo before returning to his son’s bedroom. He knew he would get little to no sleep tonight as he fully intended to stay by Harry’s side the entire night through. Draco, however, needed to go to bed as well. He was drifting off, his head resting on the side of Harry’s bed with one hand lying lightly on top of Harry’s left one.

“Draco,” he whispered, lightly brushing the hair off his face. The blonde woke with a start and was instantly up and standing protectively over Harry before he realized who was in the room with him.

“Severus,” he stated, his sleep-dulled eyes finally taking in his surroundings and he gave his godfather a sideways grin before sitting back down. “Did you get them to leave?”

Snape nodded and sat down on the edge of Harry’s bed, careful not to jostle it too much. “I did. It’s getting rather late. Why don’t you go to bed.”

Draco shook his head. “I should stay here with Harry,” he insisted, unable to leave his friends’ side.

“I plan on staying, Draco.”

“What if I want to say too?” he asked defiantly. “I’ll sleep on the floor if I have to.”

Severus sighed. “Do whatever you wish, Draco, but do go to bed. You’re exhausted,” he said.

“Fine, but I’m sleeping in here!” he exclaimed quietly while transfiguring a pen off Harry’s desk into a cot beside the bed.

“I did say you could, you realize?”

Draco yawned, nodded, and climbed under the covers. “Goodnight, Severus.”

“Goodnight, Draco,” said Severus, watching as the blonde’s eyes drifted closed as he fell into a deep sleep.

………………………………………

The two teens had been asleep for almost an hour and yet Severus still remained awake. It didn’t matter how tired he currently was, sleep was no friend of his tonight. He’d taken the opportunity to finish applying the salve to Harry’s abused skin while he was still unaware, knowing it would be nearly impossible while he was conscious. It was now late into the night but thus far he couldn’t bring himself to leave Harry’s side, or Draco’s for that matter. He was aware that this entire ordeal with Harry was bringing up bad memories for Draco as well and knew both his children would be in need in the coming days. It would take a long time, especially for Harry, to overcome the events that had transpired just that afternoon. He wished they’d never happened at all, but there was no turning back the clock. It had happened and now they had to deal with it.

The night had grown chilled, even though it was the middle of summer, and Severus raised his wand to light a fire in the fireplace. It didn’t take long for the room to lose it’s chill but Severus covered the teens with an extra blanket just in case. He was feeling overprotective and maybe excessively so, but it was nice to be able to do something in a situation that seemed so out of his control. He was deeply worried for Harry, especially his behavior since he’d brought him home. He wasn’t sure what to think of it all.

He sank further into his chair as he became more and more exhausted but unable to leave his vigil in favor of his own comfortable bed. His sleep would be nonexistent if he left the boys, but at least here he could rest his eyes and still stay with them. His thoughts drifted to Harry when he saw him shift uncomfortably in his bed before settling down into a slightly restless sleep. He gently brushed away a stray lock of raven hair from the boy’s eyes and pulled the blanket that Harry had kicked off back onto his still form. Harry was shirtless to allow for the salve to absorb into the skin more fully and he didn’t want his son to freeze in the chilly room wearing only his pajama bottoms.

But as he tucked the teen in, he saw the vivid bruises once more and clenched his fists in anger at the man who had done this to his son. The ointment had helped on the bruises circling Harry’s neck and face and even one on the boy’s stomach. But, they were only slightly faded and would take a few more applications before they faded completely. He sighed as he leaned forwards in his chair and rested his head in his hands feeling somehow defeated, wishing he could do more for his son. Desperately wishing he would have been there to protect his son against his own Uncle. He briefly wondered how James and Lily would be feeling if they knew what had befallen their beloved child. The child they had died to protect and the same child he hadn’t been able to save from harm. He’d promised himself he’d never let anyone or anything ever hurt his son again, countless times it seemed, and no matter how many times he repeated the phrase to himself, it happened just the same. What did he have to do to keep Harry safe? And how was he going to help his son heal…once again.

………………………………

Deliverance was standing in the hallway watching as her cousin sank further and further into the chair, seeming to drown in his own despair. Her own heart still beat frantically in her chest from the news she had just recently discovered at the Weasley household. She had assumed they would all still be there, but they hadn’t been. Instead, she’d discovered a household in disarray. They told her of Harry’s kidnapping and the unfortunate aftermath. She needed to see the boy she considered a grandson and make sure he was all right with her own eyes. She wouldn’t rest until she had.

Now, she stood just beyond Harry’s bedroom watching as Severus’ obvious despair tried to get the best of him. She quietly entered the room, any anger at having not been told drifting away at the sight before her. Severus was suffering just as much as anyone and needed someone to help him deal.

“Severus?” she asked as she gently placed her hand on his tense shoulder. His head snapped up, clearly having not heard the woman enter the room.

“Deliverance?” he asked, startled at her sudden presence. “What are you doing here at this hour?”

“I went to the Weasley’s, hoping to find you there. They told me what happened. I came as soon as I could, cousin,” she looked at Harry cuddled deeply under two layers of blankets and smiled at the scene. “Is he all right?” she asked gently.

Severus didn’t know how to answer that question. Physically, he was better and soon all his scrapes, abrasions, and bruises would disappear. But emotionally…that was another story entirely. He had thought about asking Madame Pomfrey to come in to examine the boy, but seeing Deliverance made him remember the woman was a healer in her own right. She had taken care of many of the villagers on the Island and had even tended to Harry a few times when he had been hurt after Jeb Corwin had gotten his damned hands on him. He shuddered at the mere thought of the man who was now gratefully dead.

“No, I don’t think he is,” he finally said after many different thoughts had flown around in his head. He’d like to say that Harry was doing fine, that Vernon Dursley had never put a hand on the teen, that Harry was having a wonderful summer. But none of that was true. And he feared things wouldn’t be fine for a long time coming.

Deliverance stood stock still beside Severus, taking in all that had been said. “How bad is he?” she managed to ask a moment later.

“Well, he won’t let me touch him, to begin with. He’s afraid of me, not myself as a person, just of what he expects to happen after being in Dursley’s abominable hands for so long. It’s as if he’s forgotten what is safe and what isn’t. Every raised hand could be one raised to strike; every loud word could be the foretelling of an abusive argument. He’s withdrawn and frightened, even more so than when Corwin abused him while in the forest. I just don’t know what to do. I know what I want to do, I want to hold him and care for him, but he’s too fearful right now,” he trailed off, staring at his cousin in dismay. “Deliverance, I don’t know what to do.”

It was a moment of honest truth, one Deliverance didn’t know if she’d ever see again, as she’d never seen Severus so distraught he let down all his barriers. “We’ll fix him, Severus. I promise we will,” she said softly, encouragingly.

“Yes, we will. Oddly, that’s also what Dursley said, as we were about to leave, to have fun fixing him. I never wanted to hit someone so hard in my entire life. But, obviously, Harry came first and will always remain my first priority. Both of them will always remain my first priorities,” he said, looking at the two teens lying obliviously in their beds.

Deliverance took a moment to observe her grandson, who had once more kicked off his blankets. She saw the fading bruises and felt her jaw clench. Who would do such a thing to a child? It enraged her that some people with blessed with children, even those who weren’t their own, and all they did with that gift was use and abuse it. They were monsters, the entire lot, that Harry had been forced to grow up with. She shuddered at the mere thought of what this boy must have gone through every single solitary day. It must have been awful.

She also took the opportunity, while Harry was still soundly sleeping, to do her own cursory exam. She didn’t want to do anything too evasive for fear of waking him. Severus was more than willing to let her check him over so long as she didn’t wake him. Then, as he so eloquently put it, there would be hell to pay. It took no time at all to check him over and what she discovered left her feeling grim, but curious. The damage now wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been when Jeb Corwin had taken his insane anger out on Harry. She found herself wondering why he was acting more withdrawn and frightened, as Severus had told her, than he did back on the Island. It almost didn’t make sense, unless it was just a side affect of being in his Uncle’s presence. It could be an engrained reaction after seeing the man. Some of the pieces of the puzzle were still missing, it seemed, but Deliverance was willing to let it go for now.

Besides which, Harry was awakening and she knew he wouldn’t be prepared to wake to someone touching him. She withdrew and motioned Severus with a bent finger. “He’s waking,” she whispered.

Severus stood up from the chair he was lightly dozing in and quickly went to his son’s side. However, what they had mistakenly taken as signs of waking was actually the beginning of a nightmare. Harry mumbled something into the pillow and rolled onto his back, pushing fruitlessly at the heavy blankets on top of him.

“No,” he groaned, pushing harder, but as he was still in the midst of sleep, the coordination it took to push free of the blankets wasn’t there. His movement became less sluggish and more erratic as he tried again and again. “Get off!” he yelled, and as hands came from either side of the bed to try and comfort him, Harry’s lame attempts to fight free grew frantic and nearly hysterical.

“Harry,” said Severus softly, but the boy didn’t hear. He continued to thrash and Severus put out a hand to try and halt the frenzied movement, but Harry became even more upset at his touch. “Child, wake up. It’s just a nightmare,” he murmured lightly, indicating with an out-raised hand for Deliverance to take her hands off the quivering boy.

She did so reluctantly, but knew their touch was only making it worse.

The hands were gone, but still Harry thrashed on his bed, his words becoming less comprehensible, but Severus could have sworn he heard Harry mutter something along the lines of ‘too heavy, it hurts,’ but wasn’t entirely sure. The mumbled words had left his heart in a vice, but he’d probably imagined it or Harry had said something entirely different. He let his ideas tumble away as Harry jerked awake, his green eyes wide and frightened.

Harry sat up immediately and pressed his back against the cool wooden backboard. He saw someone move in front of him and reacted on instinct. With one hand raised in defense, he shouted. “Don’t!”

Both Severus and Deliverance stopped where they were. “Harry, son, you needn’t worry. I’m here, it’s Dad,” he soothed.

Harry was slow to let the words sink into his mind, but as they did he finally relaxed and looked up with watery eyes. “I’m s-sorry,” he whispered. “Did I wake you?”

Severus let out a long sigh. After a nightmare like that, Harry was worried that he’d awakened them; he cared nothing for his own sleep. They definitely needed to work on what was important when it came to Harry’s nightmares.

“I was already awake,” stated Severus, sitting carefully on the side of the bed. He glanced over towards his godson’s bed and saw he was wide-awake, just as he presumed, but had remained in his bed to stay out of the way. Very thoughtful of him, considering it was Draco. The teen always had to be in the middle of everything, but he’d seen the stressful situation for what it was and had let Severus and Deliverance handle it.

Harry nodded but seemed unable to meet anyone’s eyes. “Still sorry,” he said slowly.

“Don’t you dare be sorry, Harry,” demanded Deliverance, unable to see the boy look so dreadful. “It was a bad dream, nothing you could have helped, and if you happen to be a little more vocal than you normally would be, no one in this room will think twice about it. If you want to scream your head off, go ahead and do it. We’re you’re family, Harry. We love you,” she said, feeling herself grow a wee bit too emotional and saw both boys looked a little embarrassed. She coughed into her hand, but felt the little speech had been necessary. “Sorry,” she muttered.

That actually got a laugh out of Harry and Draco, considering she’d been getting onto him for saying the same thing. She just about said it again, but caught herself in time. “Perhaps it’s a good time for some nice hot chocolate,” she suddenly said, breaking the left over tension still in the air. “My mother always made me some fresh off the stove, no matter what time it was, if I was feeling a little down. Would anyone care to join me in the kitchen?” she asked, making it seem completely natural to drink hot chocolate at three o’clock in the morning.

Harry sat silently on his bed. He actually wasn’t in the mood for hot cocoa. At the moment he didn’t think he’d ever be in the mood for hot chocolate again. But, refusal would lead to a long and unwanted conversation so he decided on the lesser of two evils and followed the three downstairs. At least, he thought, it would keep his mind off his nightmares. Nightmares, which he now realized, had been real all along.

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.

Draco stood in the expanse of passageway between his and Harry’s bedrooms. He had left his friend’s room to allow some privacy for Severus and his son, but he’d waited outside in the hallway for his godfather. The events that had just transpired a few moments ago kept replaying over and over in his head. What the hell had happened to Harry? And, if what he suspected was true, what were they going to do? He cringed when he thought about the words that had spilled out of Harry’s mouth in his fear induced hallucinations…he didn’t know what else they could have been.

He was growing more and more impatient. He just needed to talk about it, get it off his chest, and find out what Severus planned to do about this. Draco paused in his thinking. Did Severus realize as well? Because if he didn’t realize what Harry’s reaction just now could imply, Draco wasn’t sure how he could enlighten the older man. But, being who Severus was and his extreme intellect, Draco was fairly certain his godfather would already have figured it out. At least, he hoped as much.

The blonde was on the verge of walking back in Harry’s room just to get Severus when the man walked out. Of course, he should have been more patient, considering what the man was dealing with beyond the door-less room, but Draco was just as concerned and scared. How could they help Harry? The more he thought about it, the more adamant Draco became in his thoughts. Harry had been abused in the most horrible manner imaginable, in Draco’s opinion. But now that Severus was standing before him, the younger Slytherin wasn’t sure how to ask what he knew must be going through his godfather’s mind.

“Is he okay?” he settled for asking, hoping it would lead into more difficult subjects.

Severus ran a hand roughly through his hair and motioned for Draco to follow him downstairs. In the short time it took to reach Severus’ study, neither spoke a word. Draco was too nervous to speak and Severus was so entranced in his thoughts he almost forgot Draco was even with him. He didn’t want to leave Harry by himself for long, even if he was under thee influence one of his more powerful dreamless sleeping droughts, he couldn’t bare the thought of staying away from him for long. But, Draco knew, he could see it in his eyes. And he somehow couldn’t have this conversation with Harry in the room.

Draco sat down in the chair across from Severus as the older man settled down in the chair behind his desk. Draco waited impatiently as his godfather shuffled some papers and placed them in a drawer and then proceeded to organize the quill and ink on his desk.

“Severus?” he asked. It was obvious to him that Severus was stalling, and this fact only proved to make him even more anxious about his friend upstairs.

Severus stopped his incessant organizational skills and lowered his eyes to meet his godson’s. “Draco…” he trailed off, trying to gather his thoughts. He suspected the blonde teenager before him knew the truth, but what if he didn’t? He didn’t want to betray Harry in any way and he knew instinctively that Harry wouldn’t want Draco to know until he was ready to tell the Slytherin himself. He also knew Harry wouldn’t want anyone to know, and yet, more people knew than even he was comfortable with. Then Severus had to remind himself that he still had no proof that what he and Fred Weasley suspected was true, but the idea that they were mistaken seemed more and more unlikely as he placed all the pieces together.

Unable to stand the silence a moment longer, Draco decided to broach the subject himself. “From what Harry was saying during his nightmare,” started Draco, nervously plucking at the leather of his chair with his fingers. “I think something happened when he was with his Uncle. Something…different,” he hoped Severus got his meaning.

He knows, thought Severus. How could he not? The older Slytherin sighed and ran his hand through his hair for about the hundredth time that night. “Something different?” he finally asked. He needed to know how much his godson knew before revealing the suspected truth.

Draco momentarily blanched at the question, having not expected it at all. He had hoped Severus would answer for him, but alas, it seemed he would have to propose his thoughts on the matter and hope to Merlin he wasn’t right. Taking in a deep breath he asked the question that had been on his mind since he’d walked into Harry’s bedroom earlier that night. “Did his Uncle…” he paused, realizing it was harder to say that he’d imagined. And the thought that someone had possibly done that to Harry made him angrier than he ever thought he’d be on the emerald-eyed boy’s behalf. It was funny what friendship did to a person, he mused offhandedly before approaching the subject once more. “I think his Uncle may have molested him,” he said it all quickly and in one breath, then he waited nervously for Severus’ reaction.

Even though he had heard this once already and had suspected it himself, he felt his breath taken away when he was told once more. He brought his hand to his forehead and learned forward.

Draco took this as an affirmation and actually felt his heart clench as he imagined what that monster had done to Harry. He shivered in dread, thinking of how small Harry was, even compared to Draco himself, but to his big oaf of an Uncle? How could he have possibly defended himself against him? How far had the man gotten with Harry, forcing himself on Harry, before he’d been able to work up enough energy to magically shove him away? How scared must Harry have been? He clenched his fists in rage as the thoughts kept tormenting him.

Severus took in his own deep breath before raising his head to his godson once more. “Yes, that’s what we believe happened.”

“We?” asked Draco, curious as to who else knew about this. And a little bit miffed that no one had told him before.

“Yes, Mr. Weasley was the first to bring it to my attention. I had suspected beforehand, but when he told me he suspected the same and after the nightmare tonight, I realized it was true,” he said sadly.

“Mr. Weasley, as in Fred Weasley?” he asked, knowing Fred had been the only one to see Harry yesterday before Severus had kicked everyone out of the house.

“Yes.”

Draco nodded; it actually made sense that Fred noticed it, as he knew he and Harry had grown very close over the past year or so. But, back to the matter at hand, “What are we going to do?” he asked, clearly at a loss on how to help his friend.

“I’m going to talk to him about it when he wakes up. All we have at this point are suspicions. It’s highly unlikely, but we could all be wrong.”

Draco didn’t believe that for a second and discarded the notion as wishful thinking. “We’re right,” he remarked, his voice rough with emotion.

Severus nodded. “I believe we are as well.”

…………………………………………….

It wasn’t until late the next morning when Harry finally awoke from his Dreamless Sleep induced slumber. He lay there in his bed and stared at the ceiling as the events of last night unfolded in his mind. He cringed as he realized he had acted like an utter idiot last night in front of not only his father, but Draco as well. How could he have done that? He remembered waking up feeling confused and then he’d felt a hand on his back and had just lost it. He shuddered as he recalled what he had done. He had thought Severus was him. A cold feeling of dread swept through him at the mere thought of his Uncle and he curled in on himself in a vain attempt of comfort.

He wanted his father and yet he didn’t want him. He wasn’t completely sure he wouldn’t cringe away from Severus when he reached out to him and that was something he couldn’t handle right now. Severus would want an explanation, as he knew everyone wanted one. They wanted to know what happened with his Uncle when he’d been kidnapped. He felt a lone tear streak down his cheek and angrily wiped it away with his sleeve. He didn’t want to talk about it and feared he’d be made to.

As if his thoughts had called him forth all on their own, Severus knocked gently on the doorframe of Harry’s room and walked inside. “Are you awake?” he asked softly, as he couldn’t see Harry’s face which was buried in his pillow.

“Yes,” he muttered, keeping his face hidden.

This scene in itself was enough to make Severus’ heart skip a beat as he watched his son hide from him. It was a testament of how frightened he really was. Severus was hard pressed not to stalk out of the room and hunt Vernon Dursley down. His anger was quick to leave him though, as Harry finally turned around and gazed at him with sad, haunted eyes.

Unsure of what to say to him, Severus simply walked forth and sat down on the edge of Harry’s bed, far enough away as not to cause Harry any panic, but close enough to be able to touch him if the need were to arise. “We need to talk,” he said slowly, with a hint of determination.

Harry felt his heart rate increase at the serious look on his father’s face and was suddenly worried. “About w-what?” he asked apprehensively.

“About what happened with your Uncle,” he stated, not willing to skirt around the issue any longer.

Harry shook his head emphatically and scooted further away from his father. “You know what happened,” he said quickly. “He kidnapped me and later I escaped,” he said quickly, refusing to meet his father’s eyes.

If this wasn’t an indication that something was wrong with Harry, Severus didn’t know what was. He was denying it before they’d even spoke of it. And Harry was terrified, the look and feeling was coming off of him in waves.

“Harry, I think both you and I know that isn’t completely true. There’s more that you’re not telling me,” he said gently, not wanting Harry to run from him.

Harry shook his head again and stared intensely at the comforter still surrounding him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t even know why you’re asking this, you know what happened!” he exclaimed.

“I only know what little you told me and what was obvious upon first sight of you. I know he hurt you, Harry, but did he do more to you?” he asked, not yet ready to say what might have to be said if Harry didn’t answer him honestly.

“More to me?” asked Harry; his face a mask of incredulousness, and Severus knew in that instant Harry was hiding the truth from him. “He did nothing more to me!” he said hotly, standing from the bed and taking his night-robe from the back of the chair, he quickly put it on and pulled it closed tightly against him.

The boy refused to look at his father however, and Severus stood to meet him in the middle of the room. “Do not lie to me,” he said sternly yet gently. He didn’t wish to cause Harry to fear him, and he honestly didn’t want to force an answer out of him if he couldn’t give one to him, but Harry needed to talk about this or it would tear him up inside.

Harry violently shook his head and glared at his father. “I’m not lying!” he yelled, taking a step away from Severus when he made to approach the boy. “There’s nothing more to talk about, so please, just leave me alone!”

Severus sighed, distraught. “Harry, if there was nothing more going on, why are you reacting like something did?” he asked softly.

Harry balked at him. “I’m not acting like something did! I told you, I don’t even know what you’re talking about!” he cried.

“Harry,” he started, slowly walking towards his son. “Can you explain the way you reacted this morning, then?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” asked Harry quietly, taking another step away as his father grew progressively closer to him. Then it hit him. Severus meant what happened when he’d woken up from his nightmare and had acted like such a complete arse in front of his father and Draco. Harry shook his head again. “I was just confused,” he tried.

“You were terrified last night, Harry,” he began gently. “You begged me not to hurt you, and you begged me not to touch you,” he said, watching his son in worry as he still continued to deny the truth.

“Not you,” he started shakily. “I didn’t realize it was you.” He was aghast at himself for believing for one instant that Severus was his Uncle and that he would do to him what Vernon Dursley had done when he was a child.

Severus had to force himself to keep talking instead of rushing over to pull his distraught son into a hug. It wouldn’t help Harry at all, especially not when he was so against being touched. “Who did you think I was?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

Harry wrapped his arms around his chest protectively, his eyes pooling with tears as he took yet another step away from Severus. “I don’t remember,” he said quickly, gazing down at his slipper-adorned feet.

“Please, Harry,” asked Severus, his concern now thick in his voice. “You don’t have to be afraid. I’m right here; I won’t let him hurt you ever again. Just tell me what he did to you, please!” he begged. Severus would have never thought he’d resort to begging his own son for the truth, but desperate times called for desperate measures. And he was willing to do just about anything if it helped his son. He couldn’t stand to see the anguish he was going through and not do something about it.

As the moisture pooled over in his eyes, a few tears began to make their way down Harry’s pale face. “Please don’t make me,” he pleaded.

Severus felt as his own tears started to collect in his eyes and didn’t know if he could put Harry through this much longer. “Harry, child, I have to know if I’m to help you at all. I asked you this question once before and you told me no. Now, I’m going to ask you again. Please just answer me truthfully and we’ll get through it Harry, I promise you we will. I won’t think less of you and I won’t push you away. I love you, remember that,” he said softly before asking once more the question he had asked so long ago. He condensed his question into a few words for Harry’s sake. “Did your Uncle sexually abuse you?” he asked quickly.

He knew immediately he had by the shattered look on Harry’s face. He had taken another step backwards and had ended up pressed against the wall, looking for all the world like a trapped animal. He shook his head as more and more tears fell unchecked down his face. “No, no, no,” he mumbled, beginning to sob brokenly. “He didn’t, please, he didn’t!” he sunk down on the floor, pulling his robe around him once more in a protective gesture.

Severus couldn’t help but go to him in the face of his son’s emotional torture. “Harry,” he said softly, fearing his son’s reaction if he put so much as a hand on him. “I’m here, I’m right here. I’m so sorry, Harry,” he said softly. Any doubt he had kept carefully locked inside his soul had shriveled and died as he watched Harry fall apart in front of him.

When Harry collapsed into his arms, sobs wracking his small frame, Severus held onto him for all he was worth. No words were spoken as Severus gently stroked the boy’s hair and rocked him in his arms, letting him cry himself out. Snape had no idea how long they had sat there on the carpeted floor. After what seemed an eternity Harry began to pull away from his father, looking ashamed.

“Harry?”

“He did,” muttered Harry, looking down at his lap.

Severus was confused for all of a second before he realized what the boy was saying. “He did?” confirmed Severus. He could see more tears had started to fall from Harry’s emerald eyes and felt his heart break all over again.

“Yes,” he replied brokenly. He suddenly stood from his position on the drafty floor and keeping as much distance as he could from his father, he walked towards the bed. “Can I get dressed now?” he whispered.

Severus was torn between talking to his son and doing as the boy wished. “Harry, we need to talk about this,” he started carefully.

Harry shook his head, looking at Severus desperately. “No, please. Not now, I need time,” he said, his eyes pooling with tears once more.

Severus couldn’t stand to see him this way. He’d made the boy cry at least three times in the past hour, he didn’t think he could do it a forth time. But, he realized, sometimes you had to do things that were unpleasant in order to help. He approached the boy from behind and stilled when he saw Harry stiffen.

“Harry, I know you don’t want to talk about this, but you’ve kept it to yourself long enough, wouldn’t you agree?” he asked softly.

Harry’s shoulders slumped in defeat before him and Snape had to resist the need to reach out and touch those shoulders to comfort his son. “We’re going to discuss what happened Harry, you can’t go on like you have. You’re falling apart. Please, let me help you,” he whispered, and dared to place a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

As anticipated, Harry tensed at his touch but didn’t move away. “I don’t know if I can,” he whispered.

Severus rubbed the shoulder under his palm encouragingly. “I could give you a calming drought,” he said. “It would calm you enough to be able to talk about what happened, but would still leave you in control of what you want to say,” he added when he felt Harry’s muscles tense once more beneath his hand.

“O-okay,” he managed to get out, feeling as if there really wasn’t any choice in the matter. But, the calming drought would hopefully make the things he was about to say easier.

Severus gave Harry’s shoulder one more supportive pat before calling Cella to him.

“Yes, Master Severus?” she asked once she’d popped into the room.

“Cella, please retrieve a calming draught from the laboratory,” he asked.

Harry was glad for the short reprieve and sat down on his bed while he waited for Cella to return with his potion. He grew more and more anxious, however, as he waited, and wished for nothing more than the floor to open up and swallow him whole. The thought of telling his father what his Uncle had done to him in the car, and even before when he was a small child, left him feeling nauseous. He didn’t know if he could do this. But once more, he realized there wasn’t much choice. As Cella reappeared, he was actually thankful for it. He wanted this over and done with as soon as possible.

Cella immediately brought the vial to Harry, who downed it as soon as he had it in his hands. Almost instantly he felt so much calmer, like a slight weight had been lifted, but he still felt slightly anxious about what was about to proceed. Harry had a seat on his bed and instinctively pulled the blankets around him, almost like a shield.

Severus sent Cella back to the kitchen and grabbed the chair closest to the bed to sit in. He faced Harry and took in a deep breath. Where to begin? The beginning, he supposed.

“Can you tell me what happened after your Uncle took you in his car?” he asked, straight forward and to the point.

Harry nodded, feeling the potion even stronger now that it had had the chance to take full affect. “He took me to a side street that was abandoned and stopped the car,” he said quietly. “He blamed me for Aunt Petunia and Dudley’s deaths.”

Severus felt inclined to point out that that was most certainly not true. Harry nodded. “I know, but he still blamed me. He hit me,” he said, feeling distanced from the entire thing and was extremely glad he wasn’t feeling all of those horrible emotions that coincided with thoughts of his Uncle. “He hit me a lot. He told me I was going to regret ever being left on his doorstep. He hit me again and then he was on top of me,” his voice wavered slightly, but the calming potion seemed to become stronger in that instant and he no longer felt the fear. “Then, I remembered. I remembered everything he used to do to me,” he whispered, shocked he was telling Severus this much.

Severus was also shocked. “What do you mean, everything he used to do to you?” he asked quietly, not wanting Harry to go closed lipped on him again.

Harry shook his head as if trying to clear the cobwebs. “He used to touch me when I was little,” he whispered, looking at the comforter once more.

Severus felt himself grow nauseous as he realized what Harry was saying. That monster had been molesting his son since he was a small child. He felt his heart clench tightly and had to forcibly grab the arms of the chair he was sitting in if he planned on staying there. The desire to maim and kill Dursley was almost too great to resist. Then Harry started talking again.

“I think I must have forgotten,” he continued. “When he realized I remembered, he wanted to do it…to do it again,” he whispered. It seemed the potion couldn’t damper everything Harry was feeling, for tears started to roll down his pale face once more. He looked up at his father and cried. “Why did he do that to me?”

Severus swept Harry into his arms and was thankful the potion still in Harry’s system allowed him to feel content in his father’s arms. Once more, he rocked Harry gently and positioned himself on the bed so his back was supported. “I don’t know, Harry. I don’t know why people do the things they do,” he said, shaking his head in dismay. “Did he molest you then?” he asked, referring to the sexual abuse.

Harry flinched at the term and shook his head. “He tried. He put his hand down my p-pants, and I snapped. I’d been shocked before that. My magic built up at that point, and I blasted him straight out of the car. I thought I’d killed him,” he whispered.

Severus knew a moment of wishing he had. But, he wouldn’t wish the guilt of Vernon Dursley’s death on his son for anything.

“Then I ran away to find you. He almost caught me again, but you know what happened after that,” he said softly, clinging to his father’s shoulders as he remembered all that had happened that horrible day.

Severus was silent for a while before asking Harry a question. “How long had he been abusing you?” he asked, avoiding the term molest as he’d noticed how it affected his son.

Harry shrugged tiredly. “I think it started when I was 5 or 6. He stopped when I got the letter from Hogwarts, though. They were probably afraid of getting caught by a fully trained wizard or witch,” he stated. “After the letters, he beat me so badly to make sure I’d keep my mouth shut about it, but afterwards, I forgot completely.”

It was so hard to listen to Harry talk about his past. And he was appalled that Harry’s Uncle had beaten him so badly that the trauma led him to forget all that had been done to him. He had to suppress a shudder as he realized just how horrible his son’s life had been, and how cruelly life continued to treat him. He vowed to do anything within his power to protect his son. He’d thought the same thing before, but this time, he meant to keep his word, no matter what he had to do to keep it.

Harry was growing more and more exhausted as he talked of his past to his father and wanted nothing more than to go to sleep for the next hundred years. Maybe then he’d be able to forget all of this and never remember it ever again. It was a nice thought; one he knew would never come true, but nice nonetheless. He gently extracted himself from his father’s arms, the feel of them making him nervous, and he went to sit on the bed again.

The silence between them was deafening, and Harry didn’t think he could stand it with Severus just sitting there watching him for much longer. “What?” he finally asked. He could tell the man was thinking about something, and the look on his face wasn’t comforting at all. What could he possibly be thinking about?

Severus took in a deep breath and leaned forward from his seated position. “You said he’d been doing this since you were 5 or 6?” he asked suddenly.

Harry’s entire frame stiffened in worried anticipation. “Yes,” he said softly, carefully.

“How far…” Severus had to force the words out of his mouth. “How far did he go with you? Did he ever rape you?” he asked bluntly but softly, hoping he wouldn’t startle Harry into not speaking, but needing to know the truth. Severus was instantly aware as a violent shudder racked his son’s body. He watched as Harry pulled his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them.

He didn’t speak for a long time and Severus began to grow worried that he would never answer, but the silence seemed to be an answer all in itself. If he thought his heart was breaking, how must Harry feel? When he’d begun to lose all hope that Harry would even answer his question, the boy fidgeted with the blankets and finally looked Severus in the face, but avoided eye contact all together.

“I, I think so,” he mumbled, clearly uncomfortable and scared.

“You think so?” rasped Severus.

Harry nodded his head. “The memories, they aren’t all there yet,” he said, pointing distractedly to his head. “I didn’t even realize he’d been doing this until that day in the car, but I’d been dreaming about it ever since the attack at King’s Cross, when he had grabbed me and shook me, remember?”

Severus didn’t think it was likely he’d ever forget. “Yes, I do,” he said slowly as a light bulb seemed to blaze to life within him. “All those nightmares and restless nights, they were your memories coming back?” he asked gently.

Harry nodded again. “Yes. But, I didn’t think they were true because I couldn’t remember it ever happening. The nightmares were so horrible I just couldn’t sleep anymore. And now, I realize they were all true and he’d really done that…” he trailed off as tears started glistening in his eyes. He wiped them away frantically, ashamed at himself for losing control in front of his father so often that day. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled tiredly. “They just won’t stop.”

Severus sighed. “There’s nothing to be sorry about, Harry. This is a very difficult time that you’re discussing with me. And you’ve only just remembered. I’m sure you’re going to be a little emotional for a while, it’s only natural, please don’t feel ashamed,” he coaxed in his soothing rumble of a voice.

Harry nodded but didn’t look too convinced. Nothing was going to be the same again; he was still in a slight state of shock over the entire situation. Everything had been fine, and then one day everything changed, everything was horrible. He wished he’d never remembered what happened when he was a child, what disgusting things his Uncle had done to him. He shivered again at the mere thought. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to deal with this. Drawing his hands up to his face he allowed the tears to fall. And fall. And fall. He didn’t think they’d ever stop. He didn’t think he’d ever feel better ever again.

………………………………..

Severus wanted so badly to hold his son and comfort him and make everything that he was feeling just disappear. But, he couldn’t do that; he could only do what was in his ability to do to make him feel better, which at this point seemed like nothing. He couldn’t hold him without causing him to tense in fear. There was only so much they could talk about before Harry shut down. And now, Harry wanted to go back to sleep, but only with the aid of a sleeping draught. Severus was concerned by Harry’s incessant desire to sleep that he’d developed since he’d remembered his past. It wasn’t healthy and he couldn’t allow it. Convincing Harry of this had almost turned into an argument between them. Sadly though, Harry had backed down the instant Severus had raised his voice. He’d cringed even.

“You know you needn’t fear me, Harry,” he said softly, carefully approaching Harry from the side.

Harry nodded and gazed down at his feet. “I know. I didn’t mean to. It was just an instinctive reaction. I’m really sorry,” he said quickly, looking more miserable than before.

“I told you already and I’ll tell you again. There’s no need to be sorry, you did nothing wrong. If anyone should be sorry it should be me. I never meant to scare you and I don’t intend to in the future, if I can at all manage it,” he said apologetically.

After another attempt to apologize from Harry, Severus shut him down and switched topics. “Why don’t we try and get some food in you?” he encouraged. Harry seemed to eat less and less lately, and now Snape knew why. He tried to ignore the sudden image that flashed into his mind of Vernon Dursley hurting his son. If Harry had to deal with the real life memories every day, he could only imagine how hard it must be to simply get through a day, let alone function as he normally did, which included eating. And he would probably feel that way for a long time to come. He doubted Harry would have an appetite but he tried just the same.

As predicted, Harry turned down the idea of a light lunch. His father, however, pushed the issue.

“Harry, you haven’t eaten well in the past few days. Please, just humor me and at least have a small bowl of soup,” he said, having called Cella while the boy went to clean up for the day in his bathroom.

Harry looked towards the steaming bowl of soup that the house-elf was holding at her side and felt a small rumble in his stomach. Apparently he was hungrier than he’d thought, or his stomach was just betraying him. He thought the second option was fact based, as even though he felt hungry, he also felt slightly nauseous. But, soup was better than something more filling, like the steak and roasted potatoes he could smell coming from downstairs in the kitchen. Obviously Draco and Severus planned on a heavier meal than he did. Not that he minded.

Nodding hesitantly, Harry took the tray from Cella and placed it on his desk after shoving away some schoolbooks to make room. One book fell to the floor and Harry cringed at the sound it made as it hit the wooden floor. “Sorry, sir,” he muttered hesitantly as he sat down at his desk.

Sighing, Severus went over and stood beside Harry’s seated form. “Again with this issue?” he asked, trying to ignore the way his son kept flinching when he so much as said something to him.

Harry shrugged. He wasn’t sure anymore what was going on with him, how he should react, what would be considered an offense in his father’s eyes, and what he could possibly do to become a better son. He had somehow started to feel in the past few weeks that he wasn’t doing enough around the manor and that Severus would start to find him an annoyance and a burden. It was an irrational fear, probably brought on by the horrible nightmares and memories from his past, but Harry didn’t exactly realize that yet.

His father wouldn’t allow another apology, so Harry just sat forlornly in his chair and sipped some broth off of his spoon. It wasn’t so bad, a little salty, but it was warm and it felt good on his sore throat. Crying so much had left it aching and painful. He noticed his father was still standing beside him and wondered why he didn’t just go downstairs and let him be. In one sense, he wanted his father to stay, but in another way, he just wanted to be left alone. He didn’t like the feeling of someone hovering over him, like Severus was doing now, and the thought of a presence standing behind him had started to make him extremely nervous. He placed his spoon back in the bowl carefully so he didn’t spill any of the soup from within and turned to face his father. The man had been looking at him critically, leaving Harry wondering what the man had been thinking.

“I can eat on my own,” stated Harry unnecessarily.

Snape raised an eyebrow. “I’m well aware of your eating habits, Harry. I was just wondering if perhaps you’d like to join Draco and I downstairs in the dining room?” he asked hopefully.

Harry shook his head. He had been glad when Cella had brought his meal up to him, as he didn’t like the idea of facing anyone else, and especially not Draco. The blonde had seen his hysterics from last night and he couldn’t bring himself to face him just yet. He still felt too embarrassed and basically unworthy to be in either of their presence. They’d have a better meal without his dismal existence sitting with them. He shook off his melancholy thoughts as his father tried once more to get him to have dinner with them. He refused, stating he’d rather stay up in his room.

“I just need some time by myself. Please, dad?” he nearly begged when Severus had seemed more or less intent on making him go downstairs to sit with them.

The look on his son’s face was all it took to make Severus cave and he allowed his child to stay upstairs for some time alone. He knew how difficult this all must be on Harry. He couldn’t even begin to fathom what it must be like to have been abused in such a terrifying manner and then forget about it, only to remember it years later. He worried so much about his son, wondering what must be going on in his head. He wasn’t sure if it was such a brilliant idea to leave him upstairs on his own without anyone to watch him, but he hoped Harry would know he could talk to him whenever he needed to.

He briefly touched his son’s shoulder before leaving the room, wanting to give one last fleeting touch of comfort, but wasn’t sure if any touch would be construed as comforting any longer. Or something his son would now fear even more than before. He flinched himself at the thought of his son never allowing contact again, but was only slightly reassured when his son accepted the touch slightly better than he had previously. He only tensed.

……………………………………….

Severus only made it to the second floor of his Manor before his frame doubled over in emotional agony.

Draco climbed lazily from his bed. The trip to the bathroom proved painful; he tripped no less than three times over his own two feet due to his exhaustion. He’d been up half the night, plagued by bad dreams, the type he never wanted to have again. They all starred Harry as their main character and they were horrible. If he’d thought his waking imagination was bad, his sleeping one was even worse when it came to depicting what had happened to his friend.

He splashed a handful of cold water at his face and cringed as his entire body broke out in goose bumps. The cold water had efficiently woken him up and he found himself staring into the mirror. He looked awful. He wondered how Harry would look this morning. He wondered if Harry got any sleep last night. He wondered if Harry would talk to him this morning, or would he close himself up? He wondered a lot of things. But most of all, he wondered how his friend, his brother, was going to get through this. Harry was strong, but how many times could he be knocked down before he stayed there?

The hallway was quiet as he opened the door and poked his head out. Harry’s empty doorframe seemed to scream out even more desolation when he remembered the reason there was no door. Again he wondered how Harry was going to get through this. He’d talked to Severus last night and the man had told him everything, or he thought he’d told him everything. His godfather had looked worn down and tired in more ways than one. He found himself wondering what all Harry had said.

As quietly as he could manage, Draco tiptoed across the hallway and peered into the darkened room. As he’d suspected, Severus was in a chair beside Harry’s bed, looking distinctly uncomfortable, though he doubted hell nor high water would get him to leave Harry when he was so desperately needed. Not even Cella or Deliverance would be able to pry the man away. Which was good, as the raven-haired boy was going to need all the help he could get.

It was still so hard to think that what happened to Harry had actually happened. Things seemed so surreal, and yet so true all at once. He just couldn’t understand why someone would want to hurt Harry in such a horrible way. He shook his head to keep his thoughts from once again taking a dark turn and proceeded to quietly enter the room. He hadn’t noticed it at first, but Harry was awake. He was, in fact, staring at him with intense emerald eyes, a look in them that made Draco falter.

“You know,” he whispered out.

Draco nodded. “Yes, I do,” he said just as quietly.

Harry nodded and lowered his head. “Do you still want to be my friend?” he asked, pulling the blanket up to his chest. “I’d understand if you didn’t.”

Draco stood shocked for a moment before his head cleared and he realized Harry was turning away from him, looking upset. “Why would you ask such a stupid question?” he demanded. He glanced at Severus and was thankful he hadn’t woken him up.

Harry turned back to him, looking surprised. “I just…I didn’t think you’d want to…” he trailed off, looking confused.

“But why?”

Harry refused to answer. He didn’t want Draco knowing just how screwed up he was.

The blonde sighed and sat down beside his friend. Severus had told him how Harry had scooted away from him when he’d done the same and was pleasantly surprised when Harry stayed where he was. He went further and lay down beside him, facing him. Still Harry didn’t move. He propped his head up on one hand and used the other to mess with Harry’s comforter, and then he looked up and locked eyes with his friend. “You’re my best friend, Harry. No matter what happens, that will never change, I’ll never turn away from you,” he stated emphatically.

Harry still looked skeptical. “Even knowing what you know about me, you still want to be my friend?” he asked hesitantly.

“If anything, it makes me want to be your friend even more. It’s hard to explain really, but you’re really all I’ve got, except Severus,” he craned his head to look at his sleeping godfather. “Without you two, I’m lost. I don’t know how to make you believe me, but you really are my best friend…my only friend. Nothing will ever come between us. You didn’t ask for what happened to you to happen.” Just like I didn’t ask my father to beat the hell out of me, he thought, but didn’t say anything. Getting beat up and getting raped were different things, and obviously, Harry’s was worse.

“No one ever does,” whispered Harry.

“No, they don’t,” replied the blonde. “And, we’re friends, Harry. Nothing will ever cause me to turn my back on you. No matter what happens, you’ll always have me, understand?”

Harry shook his head. “Promise?” he asked.

“I promise,” said Draco, placing a comforting hand on Harry’s shoulder. He removed it upon seeing the uncomfortable look on Harry’s face. He supposed he had gotten away with about as much as he could, just by laying beside him.

“Sorry,” muttered Harry.

“Don’t be.”

Harry yawned, prompting Draco to glance at the clock. “It’s only five,” he stated, surprised.

“What?”

“I thought it was later in the morning, but it’s not. It’s five in the morning, I could so go back to sleep!” he thought, though the actual idea wasn’t all that appealing, especially if those particular dreams came back. Looking towards Harry, he could practically see the same thoughts going through his head. But, the emerald-eyed boy looked completely wiped out. Why hadn’t he noticed it earlier?

“You should go back to sleep,” he stated.

Harry was quick to deny that idea. “No, I’m not that tired.”

Draco scoffed. “Yes, you are,” he stated.

Harry shook his head. “I can’t go back to sleep.”

Then Draco understood. They were both having the same problem, it seemed. “I had a bad dream, too.”

“You did?”

“Yeah…” he trailed off, hoping Harry wouldn’t ask what the dream had been about. As luck had it, he didn’t. Probably because he was afraid Draco would ask about his. “Do you want me to get out of here so you can try to go back to sleep?” he asked.

“No!” exclaimed Harry, and then shot his eyes towards Severus. The man was an extremely light sleeper; he was surprised they hadn’t woken him up yet. “Just…just stay here. If you don’t mind?” he was quick to add. He was scared. And oddly, having Draco right beside him made him feel a little bit safer.

If Draco was surprised by this request, he didn’t show it. “Okay, I’ll stay.”

“Thanks, Dray.”

Draco smiled sleepily. “I told you you’d always have me.”

……………………………………………………..

Severus stared at the two boys. How he had managed to not wake up last night was beyond him, and how he hadn’t heard Draco enter the room was equally beyond him. He was shocked that Harry had allowed his godson into the bed with him, let alone allow him to sleep beside him. He refused to believe he was jealous of his godson. He wished he had been the one to comfort his son, but if Harry had gotten a good night’s sleep, which it appeared he did, he wouldn’t begrudge the boy for helping his son. But, he had to admit, he was rather proud of his godson for what he had managed to do last night while he’d slept obliviously not four feet away.

He stood up and walked over to Harry’s side of the bed. He was sleeping peacefully, Draco was lying practically right beside him, having shifted a bit while in sleep. Harry didn’t seem to even notice the close proximity of his godson and was glad for it. He must feel comfortable. Harry could sense someone coming a mile away and he knew he would have woken the boy up had it been someone he didn’t trust that was that close to him. He very gently ran his fingers through his son’s hair and down his cheek. Harry never stirred, but did turn his head a bit.

Sighing, Severus readjusted his aching spine and went to get ready for the day. He didn’t feel so worried about leaving Harry since he was with Draco and went to his own private bathroom to shower and change clothes. He felt completely wrung out, but not as badly as yesterday. That day had been hell on wheels and he was extremely thankful it was over. Getting Harry to talk had been very draining and exhausting. It had been hard for him to keep it all together, he was actually surprised Harry hadn’t broke down completely during their talk. He supposed that would happen eventually. They’d talked about it, Harry had even cried, but it was something he had to deal with everyday. And he hadn’t even remembered everything yet. What if there was more? What if it was worse? He cringed at the mere thought. He didn’t know what could be worse, and he hoped to all that was good in the world that no more memories were evoked to haunt his son.

Banishing those thoughts, Severus brushed his teeth and washed his hands before drying them on the white towel hanging on the back of the door. Dressed and ready for the day he was surprised to see Cella standing outside his bathroom when he opened the door.

“Master,” she said quickly, looking behind her shoulder as if expecting someone to be there.

“What is it?” he asked, glancing down the hallway, half expecting someone to be standing there with the way Cella was acting.

“The Weasley’s, Master Severus, are downstairs in the foyer waiting for you. They tried to come up themselves, but I stopped them, Sir. What should I tell them?” she asked, wringing her hands nervously as she always seemed to do.

Severus sighed loudly and with exasperation. “Please ask them to wait for me. And tell them NOT to come upstairs!” he stated, emphasizing his last sentence with a raised voice.

“Yes, Sir.”

Cella disappeared, and Severus stood there feeling very irritated. And yet he understood why they were back. He wondered if Fred Weasley had been able to keep their secret or if he’d been pressured into speaking by his parents and family. As he stood there thinking, he highly doubted the Weasley boy would have given up Harry’s secret.

Descending the stairs two at a time, Severus entered the foyer with a stern look on his face. It seemed the entire Weasley clan was standing in his home waiting impatiently to, presumably, see Harry. Stepping off the last stair, he stood before them and waited for someone to speak. It didn’t take long.

“How is Harry doing?” asked Molly Weasley. She was genuinely concerned, especially given that they’d been asked to leave the day before and now they hadn’t seen Harry since the ‘incident’ had occurred. They were justifiably scared out of their wits. What had happened?

Severus calmed his nerves. “He’s doing better today,” he started, and was interrupted.

“Can we see him today, then?” asked Ron quietly.

“I honestly don’t know if he’ll want visitors today. It would have been best if you’d owled me before you came,” he said softly. He realized they were just anxious to see their friend, and that if they had owled, he probably would have just said no. They probably realized this as well, which explained why they were standing in his foyer at ten in the morning.

“You keep saying that, yet you won’t tell us what’s wrong with him!” exclaimed Hermione, coming out from behind one of the twins. He thought it might be George. He hadn’t even realized she was with them. “What is going on? Why won’t he see us? Better yet, why won’t you let us see him? Is he really all right?” she asked, her voice breaking.

Severus sighed. “Yes, Ms. Granger, Harry is fine. He’s just very tired and needs his rest. I do believe you all saw him after he escaped his Uncle’s claws, did you not? He needs some time to himself, to heal.”

Arthur took a step forward. “But why can’t we just see him? Even if he’s asleep upstairs, couldn’t we at least look in and make sure he’s okay? We just want to see him. That’s all.”

Looking towards the stairs, Severus contemplated his options. He knew they had a right to see Harry. They’d known Harry and taken care of him for years before he came into the picture. If it were him in their position, he’d want to see Harry, too.

“He’s still asleep. I don’t want any of you making a noise. I’m not sure how he’d react to just suddenly see someone he wasn’t expecting in his bedroom. I’ll take you up two at a time,” he decided. He just hoped Harry slept through it.

………………………………………………………………..

Ron and Hermione were the first ones allowed to go up with Severus, mainly because they were the ones who were the most adamant that they would throw ten kinds of fits if they didn’t get to see Harry soon. Severus rolled his eyes and allowed them to precede him up the stairs.

“Not a word,” he said as they came up on Harry’s door.

“Yes, sir,” they both muttered quietly.

Ron poked his head inside, but couldn’t see much of anything. “Can we go inside?” he asked quietly.

Severus sighed. “Keep your voices down and step very lightly,” he finally conceded.

“Thank you, Professor.”

At least one of them was polite. It had been Hermione who spoke, and Hermione who entered first. She quietly went up to Harry’s bed, startled at first to see a blonde head and not a dark one.

“Where’s Harry?” asked Ron curiously. “I think we’re in Malfoy’s room.”

“He’s on the other side,” remarked Severus.

Ron and Hermione looked at the older man incredulously. “What’s he doing in Harry’s bed?” he asked.

“I’m not sure, but I assume he has a good reason,” said Snape, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “Just get a look at your friend and get out.”

Severus was growing impatient, something both teens could sense. Ron moved around to the other side of the bed and was once more angered to see that Harry had his face buried against Malfoy’s side. “He’s going to suffocate him.”

He rolled his eyes again. “I highly doubt that, Mr. Weasley.”

Hermione went to look at what had Ron so concerned. She smiled. “That’s kind of cute,” she said, keeping her eyes from Ron’s lest he yell at her.

The redhead would have replied but Severus took each by their shoulder and guided them out of the room. “You’ll wake them if you get any louder,” he said hotly.

“We weren’t that loud.”

“I saw the look on your face, Mr. Weasley. You were about to be loud.”

Ron didn’t think so, but he wasn’t about to argue with the man. At least they’d gotten to see their best friend. That was all that mattered now. Hermione looked pleased as well.

“Send up whomever wants to go next…quietly,” he stated, standing at the top of the steps. He wanted to make sure the boys were still asleep before allowing anyone else in the room.

Ron and Hermione disappeared around the corner and Severus quickly went back into Harry’s room. He saw that Harry was cushioned up against Draco, and he had to admit that Ms. Granger was right. It did look cute. He was just thankful he was sleeping peacefully with no hint of a bad dream upon his pale face.

He could hear footsteps coming up the stairs and knew he couldn’t stay in the room any longer, or else they’d just walk right in. He wanted to see who was coming and whether there was a chance of them getting loud. Looking out the door he wasn’t surprised to see the twins.

“How’s he doing?” asked Fred quietly.

Severus stared at him for a few moments before motioning for George to go on in the room. George agreed, and with one look at the glare he was receiving, vowed to himself to keep quiet.

“Well?” Fred asked gently.

“We were correct, Mr. Weasley,” he said and watched as Fred Weasley’s face went pale.

The redhead brought his hand up to his mouth and cursed. “I’d hoped we weren’t.”

“So had I.”

“Did you talk to him?” whispered Fred.

”Yes. He admitted it all to me. I won’t tell you everything he told me, as it was spoken in confidence, but he did tell me his Uncle had molested him,” he said hoarsely.

Fred’s eyes went dark and Severus placed a calming hand on his shoulder. “He’ll pay for what he did, Mr. Weasley. There is nothing you can do and I don’t expect you to try. In fact, I demand that you not do anything. Harry will need you, I know you’re a close friend and he is able to tell you things, please don’t do something rash.”

Fred nodded, thankful for the man’s calm. He wondered how angry Severus had gotten when he’d discovered the truth and whether or not he’d had the same thoughts coursing through his brain. Probably so, if his words of wisdom were any indication. “Does anyone else know?” he asked. He’d seen the Malfoy boy lying beside Harry when he’d glanced inside the room. George was standing beside the bed looking a little surprised, but he was just watching Harry sleep, obviously very thankful the kid was all right. Physically, at least, but George didn’t realize the emotional strain the boy was going through.

“Yes, Draco does know. He suspected before I’d even said anything to him. In fact, he brought it up to me. He doesn’t know the extent, as I said before, that’s up to Harry to say. He knows as much as you do, and I’d appreciate it if you could keep this further information to yourself as well.”

Fred looked down the stairs to where he knew his parents and the rest of his family were waiting. “I’m not sure if I can keep it a secret from my parents for much longer,” he said, looking apologetic. “They’re pressing me for information hard enough as it is. When I went home last night, I got the third degree. They’re really worried, Professor Snape. Couldn’t we just tell them a little of what happened? If anyone deserves to know, it’s them. They’ve taken care of Harry when no one else would. They love Harry like a son, and I know they’re scared. And, I think because of my silence, even they’re growing suspicious of what might have happened when he was with his Uncle to make him so afraid to see anyone.”

This complicated things a bit, thought Severus. He understood where Weasley was coming from; he’d thought the same thoughts, actually. He didn’t want to betray his son, but he also didn’t want the Weasley’s to find out in a more frightening manner. It was more than likely they’d witness Harry having a panic attack in the near future. If that didn’t tip them off, he didn’t know what would. And if they insisted on seeing him, they should be prepared for that eventuality. He placed a hand to his temple. When had things gotten so difficult?

“I’ll let them know,” he said quietly.

Fred nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

Severus nodded his head in reply and watched as the teen went into the room. He followed after him and noticed that Harry was beginning to stir. George looked up apprehensively. He knew something was going on with Harry, but to what extent, he wasn’t sure. “Should we leave?” he asked, motioning to the raven-haired boy who was sleepily rubbing his eyes.

Harry realized he was pressed up against something warm, a person, and instantly pushed away, shaking.

“Yes, go,” insisted Severus, and George quickly left the room. Fred stayed, despite the look Severus had sent his way.

Severus didn’t argue with the teen when he realized he planned on staying. Fred knew, and he might be able to help calm his son down. Harry was still shaking rather violently, so much so that Draco had woken up as well and was trying to calm him. He had been surprised to see three forms standing in the darkened room, but ignored them in favor of the shaking friend at his side.

“Harry?” he asked cautiously. He saw two of the people who had been standing in the room come closer to the bed and on instinct he pulled his wand from beneath his pillow. He was still half asleep and all he could clearly focus on was that Harry was scared and there were two people standing in the room with them and Severus was no longer in the chair beside the bed.

“Get away from him,” he hissed.

Severus was actually a bit surprised that Draco had pulled out his wand until he took in the situation from his godson’s point of view. He lightly waved his hand and the room filled with a gentle light. Draco saw his godfather and Fred Weasley standing there and silently lowered his wand.

“Sorry,” he apologized. “What’s wrong with Harry?” he asked. He instantly disregarded either man as a threat; they would never hurt Harry intentionally.

“I believe he grew frightened when he woke up pressed to your side,” said Severus.

Draco frowned. “I move a lot when I’m sleeping,” he said by way of explanation. “I didn’t mean to lay on him.”

“Don’t worry, child, he’ll be fine. Just let him wake up.”

Malfoy nodded and watched as their combined voices and the light made Harry more aware and he calmed down when he realized he was only lying beside Draco, not someone else. “Did I wake you up?” he asked Draco, his voice a mixture of worry and apology.

“No, I’ve been awake for while,” he lied. Harry was always apologizing for waking them up. He sometimes wondered why he did that, but any ideas he had about it weren’t pleasant and all had to do with the Dursley’s being rat bastards.

Harry nodded sleepily and looked up to see his Dad and Fred standing beside the bed. He smiled lightly at the sight of his friend. “What are you doing here?” he asked the redhead curiously. Harry watched Fred’s face as he answered and wondered if he knew the truth as well.

“We came to see if you were all right,” he explained.

Harry looked confused. “We?” he asked anxiously.

“The entire family is here.”

“What?” Harry shook his head. “I don’t want to see them,” he looked pleadingly at Severus. “Dad, make them leave!” he begged, grabbing his hand in his small one. He couldn’t stand the thought of so many people being around him, of them seeing him. They’d know, he just knew they would, with one look at him they’d all know. He cringed. “Please make them leave.”

Severus sighed. He knew this was going to happen, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley still hadn’t seen him yet. Damn. He’d just have to explain it to the parents, and hopefully they’d be able to reign in their children. He was actually surprised that George Weasley hadn’t sent up the calvary when he’d been sent out of the room. Though, he had been thoughtful enough to realize he might need to leave on his own, but with his twin still up here…he was quite surprised someone hadn’t come up to see what was going on. Surprised, yet thankful. Harry didn’t need to deal with that right now.

“I’ll ask them to leave,” he said quietly, his eyes locked on his son’s.

Harry let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Dad.”

Snape nodded. “You two stay with Harry,” he instructed the two teens still in the room.

Fred was surprised he wasn’t going to be asked to leave. Then again, Harry now had a death grip on his own hand, so perhaps that was the reason Professor Snape wasn’t asking him to leave.

…………………………………………..

Severus wasn’t even all the way down the stairs before he started speaking. “Arthur, Molly, might I have a word please?” he asked, motioning with one pale hand towards his study.

“Certainly, Severus.” Molly was the first in the room, followed by her husband, leaving Severus to shut the door as they stepped inside. “Is everything all right?”

“I’m afraid not,” he started, and asked for them both to sit down. This could be hard for them to take. “Harry doesn’t know I’m telling you this, I will tell him eventually, but I would appreciate it, as would he, if you kept what I’m about to confide in you from your children.”

“Of course we’ll keep it a secret. Is Harry all right?” asked Molly, wringing her hands together nervously. “What did that awful man do to him?” she asked, venom in her voice. She had guessed correctly, at least, to the heart of the matter. Vernon Dursley.

Never one to not be blunt, Severus just told them in one swell swoop. It would be quicker and easier this way, he imagined. “Dursley molested my son,” he spat, hardly able to keep the same venom that colored Molly Weasley’s voice out of his own. He didn’t exactly try to keep it out either.

“What?” the two asked in unison, shock painted on both of their faces. “What did you just say?” asked Molly.

Severus sighed. “I believe you heard me just fine, Molly,” he said, not trying to be hateful, but not in the mood to have to repeat himself.

“I thought so…” she trailed off. “I need to see him,” she said suddenly and stood up from the plush armchair and walked for the door.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you see him. He woke up a moment ago and doesn’t want to see anyone.”

Molly shook her head. “He needs comfort, Severus. I have to make sure he’s okay,” she whispered, tears pooling in her eyes, yet with the look on her face, Severus wasn’t sure if they were tears of pain or anger.

“Molly, he’s scared. He doesn’t want to see anyone, and if you barge in intent on hugging all over him, he’ll panic. He can’t stand touch right now, please, just give him time and then you can see him,” coaxed Severus.

She nodded, but didn’t look exactly pleased at the idea. Neither did her husband, for that matter.

“Will you keep us informed? I want to know if he’s doing okay. And if there’s anything we can do to help him, please, don’t hesitate to come to us. We’d be more than happy to help,” she said.

“Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, though doubted he’d ask for their help unless something unforeseen came up.

“I’ll get the children,” said Mrs. Weasley, heading for the door.

“Molly?” asked Severus.

“Yes?”

“Do you mind if your son Fred stayed for a while? Harry doesn’t seem to keen on letting him go right now, surprisingly,” he asked softly.

Both of the adults looks surprised at this information. “He’s letting Fred touch him?” they asked.

“Yes, he is. He does better if he instigates the touch, which he has in this case, but if someone touches him without his knowledge…well, it’s not something you would want to see, his reaction,” he stated quietly.

“I don’t believe it would be.”

“Yes, he can stay. Just send him back when you’re ready, Severus.”

Snape nodded and watched as the two left the room to gather their many children, minus one. Once they were gone, he headed back upstairs. He saw the boys all sitting on the bed as he stood unobserved in the doorway. He wondered if Harry felt safer with ones his age. It would make sense. After all, he’d only been hurt by adults, he realized sadly.

“Are they gone?” asked Harry softly, and Severus could see the guilt in his son’s eyes for not wanting to see them.

“Yes, they’re gone.”

“Thank you,” whispered Harry.

Severus nodded. “Are you boys ready for lunch?” he asked, realizing it was a little after noon now that everything had calmed down. He noticed Harry didn’t seem to excited about eating, but the other boys seemed eager to go downstairs to the dining room.

Lunch wasn’t a very grand affair, with only sandwiches, fruit and juice, but it disappeared rather quickly. Harry’s stomach was obviously hungrier than he had originally thought it was, though he hadn’t been able to finish an entire sandwich, something Severus was concerned about.

Afterwards the boys all went outside and disappeared inside the woods beyond the lake.

…………………………………………………………..

There were trails in the woods, many which split off and went in three different directions. Harry had never gone into the woods before. Draco had, once or twice, but it had been a while since he’d done it. He couldn’t remember which trail lead where, but he remembered one lead out to a larger source of water than the lake in their backyard. It was fun to just walk down the different paths to discover where they led.

“There’s an old gatehouse out here somewhere,” said Draco suddenly, as he stared at the trees ahead of him. “I’m pretty sure it’s down this path,” he pointed to the left, as the path they were currently on split into two different directions. “If we find it, we could probably fix it up.”

Harry shrugged his shoulders. It would give them something to do, at least. It wasn’t as if there was a lot they were able to do, and once they fixed it up, they’d have a place just for themselves to go to whenever they wanted to get out of the Manor.

“Sounds like a plan,” said Fred. “If you two don’t mind me helping, that is.” He didn’t want to butt in where he wasn’t wanted, and by the look on Malfoy’s face, he was beginning to wonder if he wasn’t feeling territorial.

“Yes, you can help,” said Harry, giving Draco his own look that clearly said ‘back off.’

“Fine, fine,” he mumbled, and stalked off down the path he had pointed in earlier.

Harry frowned after him, wishing he would make friends with his own friends. Fred had given him an apologetic shrug and moved to follow behind the blonde. Harry started after them when he heard the bushes begin to rustle to the right of him. He stopped and waited, expecting to see some kind of animal, possibly a rabbit, and wasn’t disappointed. A rabbit came scurrying out of the undergrowth and flew into the bushes on the other side of him. He turned back when he heard something ‘bigger’ following after the rabbit. Harry tried to get out of the way, but seemed suddenly frozen to his spot, and was therefore thrown off his feet when the larger animal jumped out of the undergrowth and directly onto Harry’s chest.

Harry hit the ground with a loud gasp. He was on the verge of panic, feeling the pressure on his chest, until he looked up into the big eyes above him. The very loving eyes of his dog, and at which point it proceeded to lick his face.

“Zane, this is so gross,” he mumbled around the massive tongue currently attacking his face. “Seriously disgusting…”

He heard laughter somewhere in front of him, and glared in the direction of his friends. “Help get him off!” he insisted, still feeling that tiny twinge of fear wanting to envelope him as the weight settled more firmly on his chest. Zane was more than comfortable on his Harry, but would have gotten up had he sensed extreme fear coming off his boy.

The other two boys had to pry Zane off of Harry, but they finally succeeded and sat down beside the dog to scratch behind his ears. “What’s Zane doing here?” asked Draco, watching Harry carefully. He had thought he’d heard a bit of panic in his friend’s voice before they had pulled Zane off of him, but couldn’t be sure.

“I don’t know. Maybe Deliverance is here?” he wondered out loud, and glanced towards where the Manor would be, but couldn’t see it through the trees. “Should we go and check?” he asked. He missed Deliverance. She would come to visit periodically, but he wished she would stay for longer periods of time. He knew her home on the Island was almost back to normal and that she could actually stay there now, but he wanted her here with himself and Severus, and even Draco.

“Let’s see if we can’t find the gatehouse first,” suggested Draco. “She won’t leave without seeing you first, anyways.”

Harry nodded, and hoped he was right. “All right, let’s find the gatehouse.”

The three boys and Zane set out down the trail once more, this time with no interruptions and it wasn’t too long before they could see what appeared to be the white washed side of a house further up the trail.

“That’s a gatehouse?” asked Harry incredulously.

…………………………………………………….

Severus was in the library, glancing out the window every once in a while to see if the boys were about to return. He didn’t admit it to himself, but he was sitting in the Library for the express purpose of the wonderful view of the woods it provided him with. He’d be able to see the teenagers when they came back, and with the window open, hopefully hear them if they needed any help. He couldn’t believe how overprotective he had become.

He was trying to get interested in a book, but found he kept reading each line repeatedly and never quite grasped what it was saying. He hated when he couldn’t seem to concentrate to save his life. He frustratingly slammed the book shut and would have thrown it across the table had a hand not reached out from behind him and snatched it out of his own hands.

“That’s no way to treat an old book, passed down through the generations, no doubt,” said a voice from behind.

Severus smiled. “It’s not that old.”

”Are you sure of that? After all, it’s in your home. You’re old,” she said, smirking.

“Excuse me woman? I’m in my thirties,” he said haughtily. “How old are you now? Five hundred and sixty?” he asked mockingly.

“Oh, honestly Severus. I’m not that old…I’ll be 320 next year.”

Severus smirked. It felt good to just talk nonsense with his cousin, even if it was about age.

“Hello, Deliverance,” he said softly.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind and rested her chin on the top of his head. As he was seated, it was much easier to do. “How are you doing, sweetie?” she asked.

Severus shivered. “Oh, do refrain from calling me ‘sweetie,” he demanded.

She laughed and went to sit beside him. “How about dumpling?”

Severus glared. “No.”

“Very well, I’ll leave my little nicknames for Harry.”

“I’m not so sure he’d appreciate ‘dumpling,’ either,” he said with a grimace. “Be kind.”

Deliverance laughed again. “I will,” she said softly. “How’s Harry doing?”

All laughter gone now, Severus rested his chin on his hands and sighed deeply. “We have a problem, Del,” he said softly.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, worried. “Is it Harry?”

“Yes. I think I’m going to need your help on this one. I’m so worried I’m going to do something wrong again,” he said quietly, recalling everything he’d done in the past that had unintentionally hurt his son, he hadn’t meant to, but he had hurt him. He never wanted to do that again, and especially now. He couldn’t afford to make another mistake.

“What is it Severus?” she asked, completely stern and in motherly mode. “Let me help.”

“Harry was sexually abused by his Uncle, Deliverance…” he would have gone further, but Deliverance had gone pale.

The older woman placed a shaking hand to her mouth and glanced down at the table, trying to get her emotions under control. She hadn’t expected that at all. Finally she was able to calm herself and met gazes with her cousin once more. “What can I do?” she asked, determined. She would do whatever she could to help her family through this. She wouldn’t abandon them in their time of need.

“Would you be opposed to moving in here, with Harry, Draco and I, for the time being at least?” he asked.

Deliverance smiled sadly. “Of course, Severus. You know I will.”

“Thank you. As for the rest, I suppose we'll deal with it as it comes. Harry’s a little withdrawn now, but I fear he doesn’t remember everything yet, and that things might get worse.”

This last statement confused Deliverance, Severus could tell. “What do you mean he doesn’t remember everything yet?”

Severus quickly explained what had happened with Harry’s repressed memories and the fact that Harry himself had said he didn’t know all of it. “Oh, dear,” she whispered. “We’ll have to plan for just about anything in that case.”

The two spent the rest of the afternoon talking about the situation and what they planned on doing in the case that Harry somehow remembered something else unexpectedly. They didn’t stop talking until they heard the door slam shut downstairs and Zane barking excitedly.

“Dad?” called Harry from the downstairs foyer. He looked around the room and noticed a bag leaning against the wall by the entryway. “Well, someone is here,” he said excitedly. Zane started to rush up the stairs only to come flying back down them and stand beside Harry, his tail wagging so quickly it was hitting the teen’s leg every second or so. It hurt a bit, but Harry didn’t have the heart to push him away and allowed the vigorously wagging tail to thump the side of his leg to Zane’s content.

Finally someone walked down the stairs and his earlier assumption became known as fact. Deliverance was here. Harry waited until she was off the stairs, as well as his father, before he rushed her and found himself in a warm hug.

“Hello, sweetie,” she said softly, running her hand through his hair as she clung to him. Harry wondered why she seemed so sad but didn’t question it. “Where have you three been?” she asked as she pulled away and noticed their messy clothes, particularly the leaves that still stuck to Harry’s hair.

Harry quickly looked at his father and smiled brightly. “We actually have a question for you,” he said with an innocent lilt to his voice. He figured the gatehouse was valuable and they might not be allowed to make it into their own personal clubhouse, so to speak. But, now that he’d seen it, he wanted it badly. It was smaller than the Manor by a long shot, but could pass as a small cottage really, rather than a gatehouse. He assumed the manor had at some point been taken care of by servants who lived out in the gatehouse to take care of the grounds, while the house-elves took care of the Manor. At least, Malfoy had told him so, and he knew more about this type of life than he did. Harry had been the one who had taken care of the house and the yard at the Dursley’s, he had been their own personal house-elf. He shuddered and brought his thoughts back to the present.

“What do you want?” asked Severus; already knowing his son wanted something by the tone of voice he used. He had been hanging around with Draco much too often, as the boy was rubbing off on him. He smiled.

Looking towards his friends, especially Draco, he asked with his eyes what he should say. He’d gotten them this far, but he hadn’t expected to get acknowledged.

“Do you remember the gatehouse out on the grounds?” asked Draco politely.

Severus nodded, wondering where this was going. “Yes.”

“Well, we were just wondering if you would mind if we used it?” asked the blonde carefully. “We wanted to fix it up a bit, it’s rather run down, but we could make it passable as a living habitat again, I should think,” he said quickly, looking towards Harry to back him up.

Severus looked thoughtful, but Harry wasn’t certain if he’d let them have a house that was quite so large all to themselves. “Please, Dad?” he pleaded. “We won’t burn it down or anything, and we’ll fix it up so if you ever need to use it for anything, you c-could, too,” he stuttered to a halt at the look Draco was giving him. Perhaps he shouldn’t have offered to let his father use it as well. He tried again. “We just want a place for ourselves, where we can go and just hang about without bothering you or anything.”

Fred was smiling at Harry’s attempt at convincing Severus to allow them the gatehouse, but was actually beginning to believe Harry had won his father over, despite the lame attempt. Obviously, Harry was new at swindling a parental figure into letting him do something his father might not want him to do. He frowned at the thought of the smaller teen living with his horrible relatives. He knew they had never let Harry do anything he had wanted to do, and in fact, would have probably hurt him had he even asked. He found himself looking into Severus’ eyes, begging with his own to just let the kid have this one little thing.

Severus seemed to be reading Weasley’s thoughts and nodded his head at his son. “You may use it,” he said, garnering a surprised yell from the raven-haired boy.

“Really!” he exclaimed, having expected to be turned down. “Thank you!” he said emphatically, smiling shyly at his father and then his friends.

“But, I expect you to take care of it. It has been in the family for generations and I’d rather it wasn’t destroyed while you are ‘fixing’ it up,” he said, looking stern.

Deliverance grinned and gently began plucking the stray leaves from Harry’s messy hair. “I think it’s a wonderful idea,” she stated firmly, giving Severus a look. “When will you start working on it?”

Harry shrugged his shoulders, looking towards his friends for their opinion. “Oh, I don’t know. As soon as we can get out there and into the gatehouse, I guess we’ll just take it from there. It’s locked, Dad. Do you have the key?” he asked, hoping his father’s stern voice from just a moment before didn’t mean he had changed his mind.

Severus frowned. “You know, I’m not sure where that key is. I’ll have to search for it.”

Deliverance looked confused. “Why can’t they just unlock the door with a spell?”

“It’s charmed not to open unless it is with this particular key. My great grandmother used it as her own personal quarters when she was younger and wanted to protect it from her prying brother. So, her father, my great, great grandfather, charmed the door to only open with the key she kept perpetually with her at all times, on a chain around her neck,” he explained. “I’ll look for the key. Or, if you’d rather, I wouldn’t mind if the three of you tried to look for it. Deliverance and I have many things to discuss today.”

Harry looked up at his father inquiringly. He wondered what they were discussing, but wasn’t one to pry into his father’s personal affairs. “Are you going to be staying for a while?” he asked Deliverance hopefully.

“Yes, I am dear. For quite a while, in fact,” she said, once more adopting that sad lilt in her voice.

The older woman’s melancholy ate at Harry’s heart, but he didn’t know what was wrong in order to make it right again. Not that anything he could do would make something right. “Is something wrong?” he asked worriedly, glancing at both his father and his ‘grandmother.’

“Oh, no, Harry. I’m just thinking of staying for a while. I hardly ever get to see you, and Zane loves to be with you as well,” she stated, indicated the dog that was still beating Harry’s leg with his tail. He briefly looked down and realized he’d probably have a bruise on his lower thigh.

“I’m glad you’re staying then,” he said happily, having wanted just this to happen. He missed Deliverance when she left, and his dog, Zane as well. They never stayed long when they did visit, and this made all the more sense, for Harry at least. The Bed and Breakfast Deliverance ran out on the Island wouldn’t be finished for a bit longer and now she wouldn’t have to stay around while those men fixed her home. He still couldn’t fathom why she looked so sad, though he was beginning to have a feeling he probably did know, he just wasn’t allowing himself to acknowledge it.

“Where should we look for this key, sir?” asked Fred, taking part in the conversation he had previously kept quiet in.

Severus looked towards the ceiling, as if mentally cataloging where all the rooms where and trying to remember which one would benefit their search. “I believe your best option would be the third floor, last room on the left. I believe that had been her room. As children, we weren’t allowed to go inside, but I don’t mind if you do.”

Harry, Draco, and Fred all nodded and started up the steps, but Severus’ voice halted them before they were even half way up.

“And please don’t mess things up too badly in your search. That room hasn’t been touched in quite a while, but the house-elves do keep it clean. Please leave it the way you found it?” he asked, clearly a demand, but not spoken harshly.

“Yes, Dad.”

…………………………………..

The room they found themselves in was actually quite large, even bigger than the bedroom Severus slept in. Harry had always assumed it was the Master bedroom, but perhaps he’d been wrong. This one they were currently standing in would appear to be the Master bedroom, unless his father’s great-great-great grandmother…or whichever, had begged for a room larger than all the rest. She seemed to Harry the type of woman who would be slightly bratty. Or at least terribly spoiled, considering she’d gotten the entire cottage out back to live in while she had this perfectly good room to sleep inside of. Harry was glad they were being allowed to use the gatehouse, but he couldn’t imagine staying out there all the time, even during the night. It would be too odd not to be where he knew his father was. He sighed when he realized he only felt safe when he was around Severus.

He realized he also felt safe around Fred and Draco; otherwise he’d be running back to his father at this very moment. He pushed these slightly depressing thoughts from his mind and focused on finding the key to the gatehouse. Harry headed for the desk that was up against the far wall while Fred headed towards the closet on the other side of the room, closer to the door. Draco was apparently just looking around nonchalantly and stopped beside the frilly four-poster bed and the bedside table sitting beside it. Once Fred disappeared inside the apparently walk-in closet, Harry started rummaging around the desk, opening drawers and shoving things aside that still lay on top of the desk. There were papers that he could barely read, the ink had faded so drastically, but he wasn’t really interested in those. There was a music box standing beside an antique looking clock and Harry very carefully lifted the lid. Surprisingly, the music box still worked as it started to play a soft song, something Harry imagined a ballet dancer would listen to.

He looked through the music box but didn’t find the key. The music was starting to grate on his nerves and he shut the lid before moving on to the desk drawers for a more thorough search. There were a variety of different things inside the drawers. More papers, that woman must have loved to write. A few quills and a bottle of ink. He closed the first drawer and opened the one below it. This one was almost as bare as the one above it. There was a deck of cards inside, probably to some game he had never heard of. He picked them up, intending to look them over, when he noticed a tiny hole towards the back of the drawer on the bottom. It looked just small enough to fit your finger in and he doubted anyone would have noticed it if they hadn’t been searching specifically for it. He didn’t know how he had happened to notice it, but he had.

Thankfully, his fingers were small enough that he could fit his index finger into the slot and pull upwards. As he had suspected, the panel on the bottom of the drawer pulled upwards and there was a hidden compartment beneath. He nearly jumped up from the desk in his excitement as he found what he’d been looking for. He’d found the key.

He found it was a bit tricky to pull the key out of the small compartment, but with a few turns and struggles he pulled it free and sat just staring at it. It was old, that was for sure, completely black and rather large for a key. But, looking back, he recalled that the keyhole on the gatehouse door had been slightly larger than normal as well. He was just happy he’d finally found the damn thing.

“Hey guys,” he called, waiting for them to stop their own searches at the sound of his voice.

“Did you find it?” asked Draco. He slammed the drawer of the cabinet he’d been searching in and came strolling over just as Fred popped his head out of the closet. Considering how long it took him to come out, Harry was beginning to wonder just how large the walk-in closet was. He didn’t go to look though, but held up the key he had found.

“Found it!” he exclaimed.

“Great! Let’s go see if we can get into the gatehouse now,” suggested Draco, already starting for the door.

“Wait, we can’t just leave the room like this,” said Harry, motioning with his hand towards the bedside table and the desk he had been sitting at. “We have to put things back the way they were or my Dad won’t even let us go out to the gatehouse. And I’m not getting into trouble over this, either. So, let’s clean up.”

Fred disappeared back inside the closet while Draco hurried back over to the bedside table to put things back in order. Harry sat back down at the desk and rearranged things to look like they had when he’d first entered the room. It didn’t take more than ten minutes for them to finish and then they were down the stairs and heading for the back veranda.

“I take it you found the key?” asked Severus from the hallway behind them.

Harry spun around, not willing to admit the sudden voice had startled him. “Yes, we found it,” he said, holding up the key for his father to see.

“You three need to be careful in the gatehouse as well. No one has been inside that house for years. I trust you can take care of any problems that might arise, but if there is something you’re not sure of, come and get either myself or Cella.”

“Yes, sir,” stated Harry, eager to go outside and have a look around at the cottage.

“Harry?”

Harry turned back around with a huff, though he tried to hide it. “Yes?”

“You have visitors,” he said, brow raised humorously. Ron and Hermione had been standing in the doorway to Severus’ study the entire time and Harry hadn’t even noticed them.

Blushing clear down to his neck, Harry waved stupidly in their direction. “Hey, guys.”

Hermione stepped out of the doorway then and walked over towards them. “Hey, Harry!” she said happily, this being the first time they’d seen him out of bed since before the ‘incident.’ She gently hugged him and despite herself, hung on even more when she felt Harry flinch at her touch. “We’ve missed you,” she said once she pulled away.

“Yeah, me too,” he said.

Ron came up next and did the same as Hermione had, only his hug was a bit more firm than Hermione’s had been and Harry had almost pulled away from it. Almost. Right about the time that he’d started to put his arms around his friend, Ron had started to get self-conscious and had pulled away himself. “Sorry, mate,” he said, hoping he hadn’t scared him too badly. He only thought his Uncle’s physical abuse had made Harry flinch away from them…he had no idea how far off the mark he was…and yet so close as well.

“Do you want to come with us out to the gatehouse?” asked Harry and Fred simultaneously. They glanced at each other and Harry had to hide a grin at the two of them speaking at the same time.

Hermione looked curious and Harry instantly went into everything that had happened that morning concerning the gatehouse and finding the key. She was instantly engrossed in what Harry was saying and wanted to see it immediately. Ron looked less interested but wanting to go nonetheless. He was giving Draco a glare that could have rivaled one of Severus’ on a good day. Harry sighed at the hostility and gave Ron a glare of his own.

“Let’s go,” he said, not waiting to see if anyone followed him.

The walk into the woods was a quiet one, and Harry didn’t feel inclined to break it. His friends would just have to learn to get along with each other. He knew if they just gave each other a chance, they’d become friends. Heck, even Fred had pushed aside his differences with Draco and would at least speak with him most of the time. That was an improvement. He figured Hermione would be quick to come to the same conclusion, but Ron gave him cause to worry. He didn’t know if they’d ever get along.

“There it is,” said Fred suddenly, pulling Harry from his thoughts. He glanced up and saw that they were indeed right on the path that lead directly in front of the gatehouse. “We’re going to have to beat down a path to the gatehouse, though,” he muttered to himself.

Before, they had just crashed through the overgrowth surrounding the unused house to make their way to the door. Now, with the amount of time they intended to spend out here, they’d have to make a pathway for easier movement, otherwise it was going to become a pain in the arse. Especially when they started bringing stuff in to help fix it up.

“I agree,” said Harry softly. He stood contemplating the area directly in front of him and found himself wondering if they had a lawn mower…that was the only thing he could think of to get rid of all the overgrowth, though he was fairly certain there was some type of spell to get rid of it. He didn’t know it though, and even if he did, it was summer holidays…and he wasn’t completely sure, but he doubted they’d get away with it, even out here on Severus Snape’s property. If anything, his father would probably have his own wards to indicate if underage magic was used. It seemed the type of thing he would do, even if the Ministry were blocked from ever knowing due to the wards surrounding the Manor.

Then he looked towards Fred and realized with a stupid feeling in his chest that the teen was of age in the Wizarding world. In fact, Fred had been able to use magic for over a year now, as he was 18. He could use magic and it wouldn’t set off any wards his father had set up. “Do you know any spells to get rid of it?” he asked.

Fred looked towards Harry then back at the overwhelming amount of grass before them. “Yes, I do, actually,” he said, as if the idea had just occurred to him. He pointed his wand towards the grass, muttered something under his breath, almost as if he didn’t want anyone to hear him, and suddenly, the grass was all flying up in the air as if it had just been attacked with a scythe and then the path was clear, the grass was gone and they could walk comfortably to the front door. Harry didn’t remark on the spell that had been used, instead rushing up to the front door, eager suddenly to see inside.

He pulled the key from his jeans pocket and took the final step up to the door. He compared the size of the keyhole to the key in his hand and was positive it was the key they needed. He’d been only slightly worried they’d found the wrong key, but now he just knew it was the one. He slid the key into the lock and turned it. With a loud a shocking ‘click,’ Harry was able to unlock the door and push it open. It was surprisingly heavy and he had to get some help from Draco to even open the thing.

It turned out there had been a chair pushed up against the door, causing the issue with opening the door, but finally they were inside and able to look around. The door apparently opened up into the living room and Harry could just barely see a small kitchen through the open doorway on the left. He stepped into the house and let everyone filter in behind him. There must have been an open or broken window somewhere, or something, because there were leaves scattered all throughout the inside of the house. Some fresher than others, indicating this had been going on for years.

Harry sighed. “This is going to take a lot to fix up,” he muttered, once more forgetting about magic and remembering the way he had had to clean his own relatives house and the shed out back, which basically reminded him of this room when he’d first stepped foot inside of it. He shivered at the amount of time it had taken and the blisters he had gotten on his hands after tackling that shed out back. His aunt had decided the best way to clean them would be to dunk them in a bucket full of cleaning solution, which she’d been using to mop the floors with that horrible afternoon. A more violent shudder crept up his spine and he flinched at the hand that was suddenly on his shoulder.

“Alright there, Harry?” asked Ron, suddenly beside him rather than wandering around the gatehouse with the rest of their friends.

Harry gave him a shaky nod and smiled…though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m fine.”

Ron didn’t look convinced and spent the next few moments firmly at Harry’s side, keeping a keen eye on him. “Why don’t we go see what’s down there?” he asked, pointing towards the door directly opposite of the front door. Harry nodded and followed him through another open doorway. He knew Fred, Hermione and Draco had gone towards the kitchen and whatever lay beyond it and hoped to take this moment to calm himself down away from even more prying eyes. He couldn’t believe he’d let that memory get to him so severely.

He let his thoughts slowly flow from his mind as they came into a tiny hallway, more of a cube of space than a hallway though. To the left was a door that revealed a bathroom, which was in desperate need of cleaning. In front of them was an empty closet with nothing more than cobwebs to fill the space and to their right was an empty bedroom. It wouldn’t be too hard to clean downstairs, Harry was beginning to realize, with the use of a few judicious cleaning spells.

They went back into the living room and head into the kitchen. Harry saw a table standing in the center of the room with four chairs pushed up against the wall. He wondered why they were like that, but didn’t really dwell on it. The kitchen was slightly small, but would come in useful if they ever decided to spend a lot of time out here, what with snacks and everything. To their right was another open doorway and Harry and Ron went through it to find a back door that led outside where there was only more overgrowth and lots of trees. To their right was a staircase, a rather rickety stair case, but they could hear voices upstairs, so obviously it wasn’t that dangerous if the others had managed to get up there without incident.

Harry went first with Ron following closely behind him. “These stairs hold much to be desired,” he said shakily. “Is this really safe?” he asked, having not said a word since they had been out in the living room, Harry almost jumped. Then he laughed, having been thinking those same thoughts.

“I hope so. Besides, if your brother, Hermione and Draco can make it up them in one piece, surely we can too.”

Ron nodded, but was clearly unconvinced. “Well, when we fall into the bathroom below us, I’m going to blame them.”

Harry laughed and the two of them managed to get upstairs without any fault. They found the staircase led up to an rather large bedroom. A door right beside the staircase proved to be yet another bedroom, though much smaller. The rooms upstairs, as opposed to the ones downstairs, were all fully furnished from the four-poster beds right down to the carpets on the floor.

“Find anything interesting downstairs?” asked Fred, glancing at the two who had just entered the room.

“Nah, nothing like this. Everything is completely bare downstairs. Why did they leave stuff upstairs but not downstairs?” asked Ron curiously.

Harry shook his head. “Who knows, but this is going to take a lot of work to fix up, guys,” he intoned after a moment of silence. “Are we sure we want to tackle this?”

Fred looked slightly surprised and Draco looked downright scandalized. “Harry, we came this far, you’re not giving up now are you?” he asked.

Harry just shrugged. “I’m not giving up, I’m just stating the obvious. It’s going to take a lot of work to fix it up.”

“Not if we use magic,” said Draco, still arguing the point.

“We can’t ask Fred to do all the dirty work, Draco. He’s the only one here old enough to use it and not get us in trouble.”

Draco didn’t look pleased at the idea of having to do actual manual labor, but seemed more willing to do it once he remembered this could be their sanctuary once it was finished. “Well, can’t Fred do some of it, so we don’t have quite so much to do?” he asked, giving Fred a pleading look. He was also eyeing Harry with a slightly protective look and Harry understood in that moment that Draco didn’t want him to be doing so much hard work. Harry looked at the floor, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

“He’s not your slave, Malfoy,” hissed Ron suddenly, breaking into the conversation.

The look on Draco’s face would have send any sane person running, but Ron was too pissed to notice. “I know he’s not my slave, Weasley! I wasn’t implying he do everything! I thought he could just do the harder things so we ALL weren’t breaking our backs to fix this place up.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure Malfoy! You just wanted my brother to do all the hard work so you could sit on your lazy arse all day and do nothing! Well it’s not going to happen, so forget about it!” he yelled, clenching his fists tight. Harry actually thought he was going to hit the blonde teen. He didn’t really want to interfere, as it hadn’t worked well in the past, but he wasn’t going to allow this either.

“That’s enough fighting!” he yelled, startling the two of them so much that Draco looked down at the floor, chagrined and Ron unclenched his fists.

Ron looked back and forth between Harry and Draco, still fuming. “Harry, you’ve got to agree with me that Fred shouldn’t be doing everything, right?”

Harry nodded. “Of course I don’t think Fred should be doing everything. But, I also don’t think that was what Draco was intending when he asked Fred to help us out a little bit!” he said, his voice slightly high as his anger grew. “Why does everything have to turn into a fight with you two?”

“Well, I think he was!” yelled Ron in return. “And I don’t understand why you always take his side when we argue! I thought I was your best friend!”

Harry groaned. He had worried this would happen, that Ron would think Draco was taking over his spot in his life, but he wasn’t. It was actually possible to have more than one friend, as Hermione should be able to testify to. He cared just as much for Hermione as he did Ron, and now for Draco and Fred as well. This was ridiculous! “You are my best friend, so is Hermione! And now Draco is too! You’re just going to have to deal with it. I don’t know why you won’t just try to get along with him! Fred’s my friend; he’s made at least an attempt. Why won’t you?” he asked, his voice fading as his temper went with it. “I just want everyone to get along.”

Ron sighed, still looking irritated. “I’m sorry Harry, but it can’t just change that quickly with me.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Why don’t we just get back to work?” stated Fred suddenly and Harry was more than willing to agree with that.

”So long as you’re not doing all the work,” hissed Ron, still glaring daggers at Draco.

The blonde took it all in stride, but Harry had just about reached his limit. “Would you just stop it!” he yelled, looking at Ron with a pleading look in his eyes. “This is supposed to be a fun day!”

Ron huffed. “It’d be more fun if Malfoy wasn’t here,” he mumbled, obviously talking only to himself, but Harry heard him anyways.

Harry nearly growled. “You know what, I give up. You guys stay here and fix the place up or go home, or do whatever the hell you want to. I’m going back home,” he hissed and marched for the door. He knew he was probably being a bit dramatic, but he was too strung up with the memories and the emotion right now to be able to handle all the arguing today. He was almost at the door when Draco grabbed his arm and spun him around. Harry flinched so hard that he ripped his arm clean out of Draco’s grasp and nearly fell down the stairs. Draco grabbed him again to stop his descent. He had to actually fight against Harry to keep him from falling, but as soon as they were safely back in the middle of the room, he unhanded the smaller teen and watched in dismay as Harry backed into the wall and collapsed against it, trembling.

“Oh my God,” whispered Hermione, having not seen Harry react quite like that before.

“Get out,” demanded Fred, his voice so hard yet concerned that none of them failed to adhere to the words he spoke. He crouched down in front of Harry, still closed off and trembling against the wall, not daring to touch him.

“Fred?” asked Ron, his voice a mere whisper. He was scared to death at what he’d just seen and worried even more that he and Draco had been the cause, basically, once again. Snape was going to kill them.

“He’ll be okay, just go, all right?” he said softly, using the tone of voice he would have used when Ron was younger and had had a frightening experience. “I’ll take care of him,” he paused, though. “Go get Snape, ok?”

Ron nearly groaned…yes, Snape was going to kill them.

………………………………………………..

“This is all your fault,” stated Draco as they all hurried back to the Manor house.

Hermione groaned. “This is what got us in this situation in the first place!” she growled. “Enough arguing! You two are going to get along even if it kills you! And you’re going to do it because Harry wants you to! Is that understood?”

Draco and Ron were so stunned they stopped in their tracks halfway to the house. “Yes, ma’am,” said Draco sullenly, having been put in his place and having realized Harry wanted…no, needed them to get along together. If Harry needed this, then he would make it happen. “I’m sorry, Weasley. Let’s just put our differences aside, all right?”

Ron nodded, too upset to even argue; yet knowing he would never fight with Malfoy again, even if it did kill him. He would never cause Harry to react like that again. He was still shaking from what he’d just witnessed. “Why did he react so badly?” he asked no one in particular as they went in through the veranda and through the back doors. He was starting to feel nervous once they were inside the house and getting closer to the man he would have to face.

“I touched him,” muttered Draco, not realizing he’d said it out loud.

Hermione was looking a little too aware than Draco would have liked, as if she was beginning to understand what was really going on with Harry, and that worried him more than he cared to admit. Too many people knew already and if Harry found out, he feared what would happen.

They rounded the corner and stopped in front of Snape’s study. They could hear the older man and his cousin talking just beyond the doors. Draco took a deep breath and knocked on the door once before pushing it open.

Severus stood up the second he saw their faces. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

Ron and Draco were fidgeting and Severus had a look on his face that made them take a step back. Then Draco took charge and quickly explained what happened. “We got into a fight,” he stated, jabbing Ron with a pale finger. “Harry got mad and went to leave. I grabbed his arm and Harry flinched from my touch, causing him to almost fall down the stairs. I had to grab him around the waist to keep him from falling and after that he just lost it. Fred made us leave and he wants you, sir,” stated Draco quickly with his eyes downcast. “We’re sorry,” he thought to mutter.

Severus sighed and Deliverance looked vaguely alarmed. “Do you need me to come with you?” she asked.

He shook his head, knowing too many people would just make it worse. “No thank you, Del. I’ll have to handle this. I’ll be back shortly,” he said, glaring at the boys on his way out. “We’ll be having another talk, gentlemen,” he added out in the hallway, making the both of them shiver.

“We’re going to die,” muttered Ron.

Draco nodded. “And we’re going to deserve it,” he said, causing Ron to glance at him in surprise.

Ron realized then just how much Draco cared about Harry and it shocked him to the core. “Yes, we are.”

…………………………

Severus moved as quickly as his long legs would take him, not entirely sure which path to take, but going on instinct alone. It was a little easier when he saw footprints in the muddier sections on the ground and followed them. He saw the gatehouse sooner than he thought he would and picked up the pace.

He opened the front door, still unlocked thankfully, and instantly heard a sound that nearly caused his heart to break into a million tiny pieces. Harry was sobbing. It was those heart-wrenching noises that could tear him apart and he cursed the house for not knowing the layout. He had to search to find the damn stairs, but once he did, he bolted up them. He found Harry collapsed in Fred Weasley’s arms, sobbing for all he was worth and gasping for breath.

“Oh, Harry,” he whispered.

………………………………………

Fred gently placed a hand on Harry’s knee, expecting the jolt that his knee would give, and stayed his hand just the same, keeping it securely in place. Harry looked up then, a look of fear and confusion written plainly on his face, and Fred felt like his heart would stop. “It’s just me,” he whispered. “You’re fine, it’s just me. I won’t ever hurt you, I promise,” Fred said adamantly.

Harry nodded blankly and still tried to pull his knee free of Fred’s hold. He couldn’t seem to meet the redhead’s eyes and ended up bending over slightly and rested his head on his knees, which also had the plus side of getting Fred’s hand off him. He sighed then and a shudder went through his entire body. “Why can’t I control this?” he asked weakly. “I knew it was just Draco. I knew that, and I still got scared! What’s wrong with me?”

Fred sighed and tried to place his hand on Harry’s head, smoothing the messy locks of hair with his fingers. “I don’t know, Harry,” he said, even as Harry fought his need to move away from the touch in his hair.

The tears started to fall then, and Harry scrubbed roughly at his face with his sleeve. “I can’t even let you touch me,” he moaned into his knees, and Fred couldn’t help it, he moved until he was sitting beside him instead of in front of him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

Fred was surprised when all Harry did was tense up, but allowed the touch better than he thought he would. “What do you think about that causes you to flinch from us if you know who we are?” asked Fred, simply curious, but also wanting to find a way to help Harry through this. There had to be some type of trigger.

“I-I’m not sure. It just doesn’t feel like you at first…”he trailed off. “It’s hard to explain.”

“Can you try?” he asked, not wanting to push and yet needing Harry to talk about this. There had to be something they could do to fix this…and talking was supposed to help.

“Maybe.”

Fred sighed and tightened his arm around Harry’s shoulders, surprised when the smaller teen’s head lolled and landed on his shoulder. “I’m so tired,” he whispered.

Fred wasn’t sure if Harry was saying that to get out of the conversation or if he honestly was tired. Then again, they probably both were true. He stayed quiet then, just letting Harry soak up his strength and hoping the boy would start to talk.

It took a moment, but Harry finally did start to talk again. “I think it’s him at first,” he muttered, his eyes closed. “I think it’s him touching me, not one of you. I don’t know why that happens.”

“I don’t know either, Harry,” he said softly. He wondered if now that the dreams had come out into the open, the memories, that he was beginning to associate any touch, whether it was friendly or not, as a threat. Considering he’d gone from not remembering to remembering so quickly, it was possible his mind just hadn’t figured out that he still wasn’t in danger from the ‘threat,’ Vernon Dursley. It was just a theory, but he wasn’t sure what else the reason could be. He hoped to Merlin that Harry didn’t honestly think any of them would do ‘that’ to him. He couldn’t fathom the idea of hurting someone like that; taking away all their control and forcing themselves on someone like Harry…he shuddered at the thought.

“Are you okay?” asked Harry.

Fred nodded and sighed. Harry was the purest soul he had ever met, even despite all he’d been through. He always thought of everyone else before himself, even just now. “I’m fine, Harry.”

Harry just nodded and stared off, his eyes drilling a hole into the wall directly across from them. Fred didn’t even know he was crying again until he looked down into the face resting against his shoulder and saw the tears rolling silently down his face.

“Harry?” he asked gently.

Harry raised his hands in the air slightly and let out a sudden sob that had Fred tilting forward in order to see his face. “Harry?” he asked, stunned. But Harry just continued to cry, trying so hard to stifle the sobs that threatened to come from his throat that he whimpered.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me!” he gasped out, his breath coming in short gasps now that he couldn’t seem to get himself under control. The tears were falling faster now and he looked so broken that Fred wrapped both arms around him and pulled him close.

“It’s all right, Harry. I’m right here. I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again,” he muttered, running his fingers through his hair once again, trying to bring some type of comfort to him that wouldn’t frighten him. All he could do was listen as Harry’s cries grew more desperate and as his grip tightened on his arms so much it hurt, but Fred allowed it. He’d do whatever it took if he could make Harry all right again, and if he got a few bruises because of it, so be it.

He didn’t hear anyone enter the room, but Harry’s name spoken softly from the doorway alerted Fred to the presence of someone else in the room. He looked up and saw Snape standing there looking just as distraught as he imagined he himself looked.

Severus came closer to them and sat down on Harry’s other side, resting his hand on his son’s shoulder. Harry’s entire frame shuddered at the new touch and his face came up from Fred’s shoulder looking quite frightened. Then he caught sight of his father.

“Dad,” he whispered, trying desperately to get the tears to stop, but they just kept falling. “I can’t get them to stop,” he whimpered, and suddenly collapsed in his father’s arms instead, needing that support he would always get when he felt his father’s arms surrounding him. He felt safe.

“Then don’t stop, Harry. Just let it go.”

Harry nodded against his father’s chest. He cried so hard it exhausted him. He didn’t remember falling asleep.

Ron and Draco both solemnly waited in Severus’ study, wondering when he’d be back and whether or not they were going to live to tell the tale afterwards. They'd both run after Harry as soon as they’d spoken and now Deliverance had made them sit down and wait for him to return. Many thoughts were running through their minds, worry for Harry, worry for themselves and their impending doom…but considerably more worry for Harry.

Ron had no idea what had happened back in the gatehouse, but it was the most frightening hysterical fit that he’d ever witnessed Harry have. And he’d rather it never happen again.

“Do you think he’s okay?” asked Ron out of the blue, literally shocking the both of them. Ron hadn’t even realized he’d opened his mouth to talk until he’d finished the sentence. And to Malfoy of all people.

Draco looked a little bit suspicious but answered nonetheless. “No.”

“NO!” the words were nearly yelled and Ron had to try his hardest to keep from saying more or he was certain Deliverance would come barging into the room, asking what the hell was going on.

“You asked what I thought and I told you. Don’t get all huffy about it.”

“But…you really think he’s not all right?”

The blonde shifted in his seat beside Snape’s desk so he could better see Weasley instead of just his profile. “What makes you think he would be?” he asked, a little sardonically. “You saw the way he reacted just now. Of course he’s not all right.”

Ron just sighed. “I know he’s not. Everyone else tells me he’ll be fine…you’re the first to tell me differently.”

Draco just shrugged. “You know, he will get better eventually. It’s not hopeless or any such rot. But, there’s so much more that’s wrong this time,” he whispered to himself.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Ron, sitting up fully in his seat and staring the other teen down.

Draco shifted uncomfortably. He hadn’t meant for Ron to hear him, but it was too late now, he’d heard every word he’d just said. “I, um…listen Weasley…” he trailed off, clearly on unsteady ground with the redhead. He felt like a jerk for even saying anything, and now Harry was going to kill him. If Weasley didn’t kill him first, that was. He suddenly stood up and went towards the heavy doors, intent on running and hiding from the now very upset teen behind him. “We’d better go check on them,” he said, and had one hand on the door before he was stopped.

Ron slammed a hand down on Malfoy’s shoulder and turned him back around, getting in his face. “What? No. You’re going to tell me what you know and you’re going to tell me now. Something else is going on here, I can tell. I mean, I was suspicious when Harry refused to see any of us, including his friends, but now I know something is wrong. Why else would Harry be acting like a single touch would devastate him? Why else would the rest of you be trying so damn hard to keep everyone away from him? My own brother included!”

It was getting harder and harder to keep the truth hidden where it was supposed to stay. At least until Harry decided it was okay to tell everyone. Draco sighed. He put his foot down on this one. Enough people knew already. If anyone else were to discover the secret, he didn’t think Harry would ever forgive them for the deception. He knew Severus planned on telling Black and Lupin…one more straw on Harry’s back could break him. He didn’t even realize half the people who loved him knew his painful secret. He found himself dreading the day when he discovered the truth. But, back to the matter staring him in the face…he had to decide how to gently steer this in another direction.

“Listen, Weasley. I made myself a promise and I intend to keep it. I’m not going to give up Harry’s secret to you. It’s his business if he tells you or not, and I refuse to do anything that might jeopardize our friendship,” he said, internally thinking that it might already be screwed to hell if Harry found out, or when he found out, how many people knew. How often he’d discussed it with Severus and even Fred Weasley behind his back. And now Deliverance knew as well. It wouldn’t be an easy pill to swallow, not for the Harry Potter he knew. And especially not with the kind of secret he had been keeping, or rather, had been hidden so deep inside his own mind he’d been keeping it a secret from himself as well. It wasn’t a good idea to keep pondering on it all, especially with the look Weasley was currently throwing in his direction. “I’m sorry, Weasley. I just can’t tell you. If you want to know, take it up with Harry. Though, I recommend you wait a while to do so. He doesn’t need more stress on top of everything else.”

Ron nodded, though he looked extremely irritated. “I guess I can understand why you won’t tell me. I think I’d be the same way,” he muttered.

Draco nodded and ended up turning the doorknob for real that time. “Let’s go see if they’re back, shall we?” he asked and opened the door.

Another nod was earned from the question and the blonde led the way out into the foyer. It was silent as a tomb, indicating the three missing occupants of the house hadn’t returned yet.

“Wonder where Deliverance went,” muttered Ron, looking up and down the corridors. He noticed Zane was standing at the back doors; his tale wagging erratically and Ron could almost detect a faint whine. He must have wanted out, but he was afraid to open the doors for fear the dog would run out to find Harry. It was strange how close that dog had gotten to Harry…almost like he considered Harry one of his pups. But then again, he figured everyone who had ever met Harry and knew just how kind and sweet he was would probably develop a protective nature in his presence. It happened to the best of them, including himself and his parents. And his entire family, for that matter…he didn’t know anyone who had met Harry who hadn’t completely fallen for his charm. Except his relatives that is, but they were an insane and brutish lot not worth mentioning.

Almost thirty minutes had past before Ron even saw a glimpse of something walking towards them in the waning evening light. It was almost a shock just how quickly the day had gone while they’d searched for the gatehouse, the key, and then all that had followed in terms of emotional turmoil. He rushed to the veranda doors as well, standing next to a very excited Zane, his tail now beating the living daylights out of Ron’s leg. He noticed Malfoy come to stand beside him but didn’t even flinch at the idea of having the Slytherin so close in proximity to his person. Things were going to change.

His thoughts disintegrated as he saw Snape and Fred coming towards the Manor and a very limp figure hanging loosely in the older man’s arms. His heart started racing, feeling almost as if it would come clear out his throat, and then Malfoy had a calming hand on his shoulder, forcing him to calm the hell down. Ron barely gave him a second’s notice though, as the doors had opened, Zane had gone deathly quiet and the three of them were suddenly in the foyer.

“Is…Is he okay?” asked Ron, his heart still feeling frightening close to pumping right out his chest.

Severus nodded but the fact that his face looked drawn and pale was telling a story all on it’s own. “Let me get him up to bed,” he said distractedly, his eyes set solely on his son. “I’ll be back momentarily.”

Deliverance came out of nowhere at that point and ushered her cousin and her unconscious grandson upstairs. She’d obviously been getting things ready upstairs; having somehow sensed what was going to happen and what had to be done.

Fred stopped at the bottom of the stairs when a hand landed on his arm. “Hey, is he really going to be okay?” asked Ron, his voice so soft Fred almost didn’t hear him.

It wasn’t a very hopeful thing to see when Fred only sighed, his shoulders slumped. “I honestly don’t know, little brother. I think things have only gotten worse,” he muttered, looking vaguely in Malfoy’s direction, as if he would understand what he’d said. Ron nearly bristled; realizing the two of them really did know the secret that Harry was hiding from them. He cooled down though when the memory of his friend came crashing back into his mind, Harry scared and shaking, and just now limp and unmoving. They weren’t pleasant memories, not at all.

Fred grabbed Ron by the shoulders then, looking extremely hesitant but with resolve plastered all over his face. “We should leave. I don’t think Harry’s going to be in the mood for anymore visits tonight. And besides, he probably won’t wake back up at all tonight,” he said, wishful thinking if he ever heard any.

Ron wasn’t too keen on that idea though. “No, we should stay. I never even got to tell him I was sorry!” he exclaimed, suddenly feeling weighed down by the amount of guilt he was feeling. “This was my fault! I have to make sure he’s all right, Fred. Please, don’t make me leave him,” he said, his voice soft yet driven.

“I don’t have much of a choice here, Ron. This isn’t our house; we can’t just decide to stay whenever we want to. And, I just don’t think we should be in the way right now.”

It shocked the hell out of Ron when Draco butted in…on his behalf. Ron thought he just might hit the floor with the shock of it all. “You might want to stay, actually. It’s not such a bad idea, and quite frankly, I don’t want to have to sit up all night by myself worrying. And, though your company isn’t the best in the world,” he said, as if at least getting a hit in to make it seem more natural. “It’s also not the worst company I’ve ever had. And, loathe as I am to admit it, we might need some help tonight. And…Severus is going to want to vent his rage and I sure as hell am not taking it alone. So…you’re staying.”

It was more of a demand than anything, and now that Ron was seriously considering running for the doors, he knew he’d rather face down Severus’ ire any day than abandon his friend when he needed him. “See, Fred, we stay.”

Fred just shrugged his shoulders, actually looking grateful that they were going to be allowed to stay. “Thanks, Draco.”

“Anytime, Fred.”

It was like a mutual truce had been called between all three of them in the face of the circumstances they found themselves in. Ron wasn’t sure who to gape at longer, but closed his mouth when footsteps slowly descended the stairs just beyond their vision. It was Deliverance. She looked tired and worn. As if she’d just gotten a glimpse of something she hadn’t realized was quite so horrifyingly true and was then considering chasing down the certain cause of it all. She glanced up then, as if sensing their eyes upon her.

“Hello, boys,” she said calmly. “Why don’t we get you set up in some rooms, shall we?” she asked, looking for something to do to clear her head.

“Okay,” they all said in unison, causing a small snicker from the older woman before her face turned serious once more and they turned to follow her back up the stairs she had just come down.

Ron and Fred both decided to share the bedroom that was directly beside Draco’s, and coincidentally just down the hall from Harry’s. They all got ready for bed almost immediately, but both brothers lay in bed staring gloomily at the ceiling until long after midnight. Just as Fred was beginning to doze off, he heard a slight commotion from the down the hall.

“What was that?” asked Ron, instantly sitting up in bed and looking nervously at his older brother.

“I’m not sure. Maybe you should wait here,” he said, getting out of bed, slipping on his house shoes, and made his way towards the door.

Ron scoffed. “Yeah, right,” he muttered, slipping on his own house shoes and was fast on Fred’s heels. “You’re not ditching me. Something might be wrong.”

They met Draco as they past outside his door. “You hear it too?” he asked, pulling what appeared to be a silk robe around his shoulders.

Fred nodded and waved for them to fall in behind him.

“Was it Harry?” asked Draco anxiously. He was peering into the darkness of the raven-haired teen’s room but saw no forms moving within. It almost looked empty. “Are they even in there?”

“Only one way to find out,” shrugged Fred, and he walked into the room. It was, as Malfoy had thought, empty. He turned back to the guys waiting for him out in the hallway. “You’re right, they’re not here.”

Malfoy and Ron suddenly both had worried looks on their faces, and Fred knew he was wearing a similar look.

“Where the hell are they then?” Draco asked the question they all needed to know and started down the staircase before anyone else had a chance to realize where he was going.

“Draco!” rasped Fred, trying to keep his voice down in case they were over-reacting and he woke up the entire house. But he was fairly certain that something was going on…otherwise, why weren’t Harry and Severus in his room, where they had been last night. It just didn’t add up and Fred was determined to find out why.

They descended the stairs after him, jumping two steps at a time in their hast, and he found himself having to nearly skid to a stop on the marble floor unless he wanted to slam into the suddenly still form of Draco Malfoy. He traced the blonde’s eyesight and saw what had so studiously captured his attention. Just ahead of them in the hallway that led to the outside veranda stood Zane…looking downright menacing. Fred took a step back in slight fear. Something was definitely wrong, because the dog was growling, not at some animal outside, but at them.

“Fred?” asked Ron quietly, fear tingeing his voice as he also took a step away from the suddenly dangerous animal before them. “What the hell is wrong with him?”

“I have no idea.”

A sudden noise from behind them just barely caught their attention from the angry beast before them.

“You three, what the hell are you doing down here? Get upstairs!” bellowed Severus, coming up beside them and then going directly past, looking distinctly frightening in his own right. He carried a vial containing a reddish liquid and all at once threw it at the large Rottweiler.

Zane made a weird coughing sound and growled before backing away from the now gaseous form of the liquid as it wafted towards the poor dog. Fred found himself actually feeling sorry for him when he started whimpering and rushing towards a door that wouldn’t open.

Fred was so confused by this point that he almost cast a spell to clear out the hallway. He didn’t know what was going on and the sheer lack of information was driving him mad. This seemed so wrong, watching Severus use some type of potion against the damn dog, but there had been something wrong with him. What else were they supposed to do? And where the hell was Harry?

“It’s not working,” said Severus suddenly and out of the blue, startling Fred to the point that he jumped.

“What the hell is going on?” barked Fred, his patience completely gone. “Where’s Harry? And what is wrong with Zane?” he asked, his tone one of no-nonsense. They wouldn’t remain in the dark any longer if he had anything to say about it. He didn’t want to admit to himself that he was scared to death that Zane might have hurt Harry. It would explain the slightly wild look in Severus’ eyes if something had happened to the small teen.

The gaseous substance was startling to clear on it’s own and Zane still stood, proud and pissed as hell.

“Um, Severus?” began Draco worriedly. “Should we be hiding…or something?” he asked, watching as the dog continued to seemingly guard the rest of the hallway.

Snape shrugged, as if he was seriously considering doing just that.

“Where’s Harry?” asked Ron, coming out of his strange stupor as the confusion of seeing such a strange occurrence started to wear off.

Severus sighed and ran a hand roughly down his face. “He’s in the damn study.”

“And why is that?” asked Draco, almost starting down the hallway before he realized Zane was guarding it with his life. “And why is Zane standing watch?” he asked, starting to put some odd pieces together of a very weird puzzle.

Another, deeper, sigh escaped the older man then. “I think,” he started tiredly, “that Zane thought I was hurting Harry,” he said, dropping his head into his hands and rubbing for all he was worth at his throbbing temples.

“What?” asked Fred, his voice suddenly harsh. If Zane’s reaction had been so strong as the one he was still witnessing…Fred didn’t know if he was going to be able to contain his anger. “Did you?” he hissed.

Severus turned an angry glare on the redhead. “Of course I didn’t!” he all but yelled. “He was having…he was having another nightmare. I tried to calm him down, but I couldn’t. He was hysterical and that damn dog thought I was hurting him,” he explained through short breaths as he stood and watched Zane still standing in a menacing position right there in front of them. There was no other way to get to his study but to go down that hallway.

Fred closed his eyes and had to mentally calm himself down. He hadn’t meant to let his imagination run away with him, but it had a tendency of doing that whenever Harry was involved. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, looking everywhere but at Snape’s face. He honestly hadn’t meant to just up and accuse the man of anything, but he had. And now he wondered if he was going to be on the receiving end of another type of lecture tonight. Severus was certainly going to be busy once everything calmed down. If it ever did, considering the entire situation seemed to be getting worse and worse. A thick veil of tension had been mounting for the past hour it seemed and Fred thought he could literally cut it with a knife. Or else he’d be able to soon if things didn’t calm.

“We have to get past that dog,” said Draco intelligently a few minutes later.

“Yes, I have realized that,” said Severus in a rather short tone of voice.

“You don’t have to get snippy,” Draco said in return.

“And you will not get an attitude with me right now young man!”

Malfoy would have glared had an ear-shattering scream not rendered the night still and stopped all hearts from beating. Zane bent down as if in pain and finally moved away from the door.

Severus completely ignored all those around him and stormed for his study. Zane seemed to come back to himself and rushed at him, but as if the dog weighed nothing but a feather, Severus shoved him bodily aside and grabbed the door handle, expecting to find it locked. Thankfully, it wasn’t and he managed to open it without any further obstacles standing in his path. The scream had come from within the room and Severus wasn’t sure what he was expecting to see. It had been one of pain and fear, and his only thought had been that Harry had somehow fallen back asleep. That wasn’t to be the case. Harry was wide-awake and screaming. And holding his head.

“Oh, hell.” Fred said all in one breath.

It was another of those headaches that left Harry feeling like his head was being ripped clean out of his skull. And nothing could even lessen the pain once it really started going. And it had started full force apparently. It was doubtful he was even aware of what was happening around him. Another scream that seemed to shatter all their hearts sent them running to the boy who was now withering on the carpeted floor, completely blinded by pain.

Severus was instantly at his son’s side, sinking down to both knees and wrapping an arm around him all in one swift movement. Before anyone could blink, he had Harry in his arms, holding him against his chest to stop the thrashing of his legs and arms. He was in so much pain, the touch that would have sent him running before, didn’t faze him at all.

“Go get one of his potions!” yelled Snape, cradling Harry in arms, trying to keep him still, trying to offer comfort. Draco didn’t need to be told twice and ran from the room. There was still a full vial in Harry’s bedroom. He hadn’t had a headache like this in such a long time everyone had thought they had stopped for good. Obviously, this wasn’t the case; otherwise Harry wouldn’t be in such agonizing pain right now. And how they all wished he wasn’t. It was one of the most helpless feelings in the world to watch as the small teen screamed and arched his back, trying to escape a pain that wouldn’t fade. And no one could do anything to stop it.

It seemed an eternity had passed by the time Draco got back, potion in hand, and ran directly for his godfather. And the boy lying nearly limp from the exertion, the exhaustion, and the pain. It was still there, but it was so strong now that Harry couldn’t even hold his head up. He was using all his strength trying to fight off the pain…and failing. He lay there, moaning and whimpering, occasionally doing both, and as soon as the vial was in Severus’ hand, he tilted Harry’s head back and forced him to drink it. He had to massage Harry’s throat to get him to swallow, as he had no strength even for that one little thing left in him.

The affect was almost instantaneous, and Harry could finally think, breathe, and see again. The pain had left him so incapacitated he wouldn’t have been able to save his own life had the house caught on fire. Hell, being burnt alive would probably be a step down in the pain level he had just endured.

Harry lay panting on the floor, his head still pounding, yet the pain was slightly more bearable. He could think again. Only, he was beginning to realize he wasn’t on the floor. That he was comfortable, or as comfortable as one could get with a blinding headache still only barely receding in his head, and began to realize he was in someone’s lap. And for a moment there he’d thought his day couldn’t possibly get any worse. He tried to sit up, but not only was his head spinning dizzily, making everything go double, but hands were suddenly pushing him back down. If he’d had any strength left, he would have fought like a man possessed. But, he didn’t have any strength. He didn’t know who was holding him. Instinct told him he should know who it was…but his fear and the memories that had just attacked his mind made him a little unsteady and confused.

“Get off me,” he moaned, pushing harder at the hands pushing against him.

“Harry, child, it’s only me,” said a distinctly familiar voice. It was too bad he still couldn’t focus well enough to realize that. He continued to push unaffectedly against the supposed threat, only to be so easily subdued. “Harry, just lie still. You’re absolutely fine. No one is going to harm you,” the voice said again. Harry felt oddly compelled to obey, yet another part of his mind was yelling at him to fight. This wasn’t right. He suddenly realized why things seemed so out of proportion and slowly opened his eyes, bringing up a hand suddenly when a nearby light nearly blinded him for real.

“There you are,” whispered a voice right against his ear. Harry nearly came up off the man’s lap, but finally came to recognize his father holding him.

“Dad,” he whispered in return. He glanced around and was surprised to see who all was in the room with him. Ron, Fred, Draco, Deliverance and his father…and apparently even Zane had come into the room to watch his mental breakdown. At least he surmised as much. He felt like such an idiot, knowing he must have frightened them all terribly for all of them to be standing right there with him, everyone of them looking anxious and concerned. He vaguely remembered having a nightmare and wanting desperately to get out of the room. He had felt a presence with him, but was too disoriented to know whom it was. After leaving his bedroom and going downstairs, things became even muddier. Someone had grabbed him and there had been a struggle. And he also remembered Zane, but after that Harry drew a blank. And anytime he tried to think about it, he realized his headache became so much stronger. He shuddered. There was something right on the edge of his mind that seemed to be evading him…but one little thought would send it all spiraling apart.

“Are you all right?” asked his father, and Harry looked up into deeply concerned dark eyes.

“I’m fine,” he said slowly, still unsure about what had just happened. He tried to sit up again and was actually surprised when he was allowed to do so. Ron and Fred were instantly at his side to assist him while his father braced him from behind. He was still extremely shaky and he knew that without their help he’d be flat on his face otherwise.

Someone grabbed his arm in order to keep his steady and then someone wrapped an arm around his chest. He wasn’t sure who it was, but it sent a shiver of fear down his spine and he almost recoiled from the touch. He thought he’d been able to hide his reaction, but obviously not well enough when his father called him on it.

“What’s wrong, Harry?” he asked, his voice close to his ear once more. “I know you had another nightmare tonight and I am fully aware that you’d rather keep them to yourself. But, please, you’re shaking so hard it is visible,” he said imploringly.

Harry shook his head. “I don’t remember,” he said, speaking the truth, but no one else there was willing to believe that. He’d kept his secrets for so long that everyone just assumed he was trying to keep one more nightmare from them.

“Harry, we know you remembered them,” said Fred very gently and very low so no one else could hear except Harry and Severus. “Please, don’t keep us pushed away. We can help you if you just let us in,” he pleaded, and if Harry had been able to give him what he wanted, he just might have. It was so nice to finally have people who cared for him unconditionally. He wasn’t entirely sure how to handle it all, and he felt like he was going to just keep disappointing his family and his friends. He wished he had more he could say, but then again…he didn’t. He knew if he remembered what he’d just dreamed about it would take a long time for him to overcome it. It was just a gut feeling, one that Harry wasn’t willing to ignore.

“I’m sorry. I really just don’t remember it. I’m telling you the truth!” he insisted when he saw Draco give him a calculating look.

“Are you certain you don’t remember anything?” asked Severus.

Harry nodded his head. “I’m positive.”

“Can you try?” was the next question and Harry nearly threw his hands up in exasperation. Hell no, he didn’t want to try, but he would do it if it would just keep them all happy. It was a stupid thing to do, he’d realize a moment later.

Harry tried to clear his mind and focus on what had happened right as he’d woken up. He remembered once more the feeling of someone else being in the room with him. At the time he hadn’t realized who it was…just that he was scared and wanted out of the room. Harry found himself speaking as he went along with his memories, hoping everyone wouldn’t think he wasn’t trying.

“I did wake up from a nightmare,” he recapped for them. “I know it must have been you Dad, but I thought someone else was with me,” he shuddered involuntarily and found a supporting hand on his shoulder. It was all he could stand to keep still as that hand started to rub his shoulder in what was supposed to be soothing circles. It wasn’t soothing at all, especially not with the memories he was recapping. “I…I, um…I left the room then,” he stuttered and the hand stopped it’s rubbing to just lay prone on his back. It wasn’t all that more comforting, but definitely better than the constant moving touch against his skin.

“Can you remember what happened in your nightmare?” asked Ron, his hand being the one currently on his back.

Harry shook his head. “I’m not sure,” he mumbled, his headache becoming more piercing the harder he thought. “My…my Uncle was there,” he forced out, the pain almost becoming unbearable again. But he forged on, needing to know himself now. What the hell was his mind hiding from him? “We were in h-his bedroom,” he whispered, and unbidden he flashed back to that moment in his head and nearly screamed. “Oh shit!” he exclaimed, anchoring himself to the present by digging his nails into the palms of his hands. “Oh my God,” he breathed again, suddenly struggling against the hands that were all at once on his body.

He felt his knee connect with something solid and a sudden intake of air. And suddenly he was free, pushing himself off his hands and knees and running for the door. He couldn’t believe that had actually happened. He’d hoped and prayed his head had been playing tricks with him, but they hadn’t. Sweet Merlin, they hadn’t. He almost made it to the door but was stopped when arms once more wrapped themselves around his chest, trapping his arms as well, and lifting him clear off his feet.

“No!” he screamed, knowing only that he had to get away. That he couldn’t let it happen again. It wasn’t registering that he was with his family, that he was safe. All he knew was what his mind was telling him, and that was to run like hell. But he couldn’t very well do that while being trapped against someone’s chest. He kicked, he screamed, and he even tried to bite the hand that had come up towards his face. It only served to make the hand go away and the arms around his chest to tighten their hold. “Get off of me!” he screamed at the top of his lungs, his kicks becoming more strategic as he heard whispering going on around him. It should have set off some kind of notice to Harry that there was more than one person here…that wasn’t right. It should have, but Harry was so far gone he just didn’t realize. And he continued to fight them.

“Harry!” screamed a voice so close that Harry instinctively tried to raise his hands to protect his ears, but he once more realized his plight when his arms refused to move. He felt the hands on his body again, running down further against his skin and he started screaming and kicking again, so fiercely that whoever was holding him ended up laying him on the ground and Harry suddenly found himself pinned to the cold floor. He knew what would happen if he didn’t get back up. It always happened if he wasn’t strong enough and as someone grabbed at his face, forcing his mouth open, he couldn’t stifle the sob that escaped him. Something thick and disgusting was suddenly being forced down his throat and he nearly choked. He coughed violently and the hands that had been holding him down were suddenly gone.

Harry rolled onto his side and tried hard not to heave. He remembered. He remembered everything now and wished to Merlin that he didn’t. A tear started to roll down his cheek and he did absolutely nothing to stop it. And to top it all, after that more and more continued to fall until he was a quivering ball of emotion curled into a ball on the floor. He knew then that a calming potion had been delivered into his system, but it did nothing to stop the fall of tears, and he was strangely grateful for that.

“Get him up off that cold floor,” said a calm voice from somewhere above him. Harry just laid there, the energy to get up and move having fled in the wake of his emotional upheaval, and when arms were suddenly slipping beneath his shoulders and knees, he did nothing to stop it. He knew his father was picking him up this time, he knew no one here would try to hurt him, but it still didn’t stop a shudder from racking his small frame and another tear to slide down his tear stained face. He wanted to go to sleep and wake up to another reality. How could this have happened to him?

Deliverance was unexpectedly hovering over him as he lay limply in his father’s arms, checking his breathing and his heart rate. She brushed an errant strand of hair away from his eyes and bent to presumably kiss his forehead. Harry flinched and buried his face against his father’s chest. “I’m sorry, sweetie,” she said brokenly, and Harry wanted so badly to tell her it was okay. But it wasn’t. And it seemed to him in that moment that it would never be okay again. “Let’s get him upstairs and back into bed. That calming potion will make him drowsy, I think,” she said then, her voice more composed.

He could feel the movement beneath him as his father climbed the stairs. Harry could hear the whispered voices of his friends following behind them, but he just couldn’t bother himself to care. He kept flashing back to a time he had tried so hard to forget, and now it was forever etched in his memory. The first time his Uncle had ever… forcibly taken him. Harry cringed as the memory tried to assault him once more. Any lingering doubt he had had been swept away. He felt wetness, as more tears cascaded down his face. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but in that moment he wanted to disappear.

His father laid him down in bed and the thought that he would be left alone in this room to deal with the memories by himself left him shivering in fear. “No, stay with me,” he whispered brokenly, and Severus was instantly lying down beside Harry on his bed.

“I’m right here,” said Snape, wrapping his arms protectively around his son. “Just rest now. No one will harm you. I’ll protect you,” he said softly, and Harry knew the words to be truth. He buried his head once more in his father’s chest and let the calming drought sooth him to sleep, along with the hand gently running through his hair. Harry briefly wondered where the others were going to sleep as he could still sense them in the room before the combined feeling of the potion and the feel of comfort sent him into the land of nod.

Tomorrow they’d deal with the consequences.

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!”

Harry stopped where he stood, rooted to the patio floor. He gazed up into his father’s worried and upset eyes and instantly felt horrible for staying gone for so long.

“Where were you?” he asked again, coming out onto the patio with Harry.

It was just an instinct to shrug, but Severus did not look too pleased with that answer. And he said as much. “That doesn’t answer my question, Harry. We’ve been worried sick! Do you know how long you’ve been gone?”

Harry just stood there, unable to fully comprehend how upset his father was with him. It hadn’t been that big of a deal to him, but to his father…it apparently had been. “I-I was just at the gatehouse,” he mumbled pathetically. He noticed now that his godfather, Remus, and Draco were standing in the hallway behind his Dad. He found himself wondering how upset they were with him as well. They didn’t look too pleased, either. Great.

Severus dropped his hands to his sides, looking extremely displeased. “All you’ve done lately is hide away from us, child. That’s going to stop,” demanded Severus, and Harry immediately took a defensive stance. Which, as it turned out, wasn’t the best idea either.

Zane had been standing behind Harry, and when Harry got upset…so did Zane. The Rottweiler was suddenly growling fiercely and showing his teeth to Snape, and the entire group inside the house took out their wands, worrying for their own safety, as the dog wasn’t letting anyone get near Harry. It was kind of sweet if you weren’t on the receiving end of it.

Harry knelt down and grabbed his dog around the neck, pulling Zane against his side. “Knock it off, boy,” he said, calming the dog down immediately. He looked up at his father and shrugged apologetically. “He’s been like that lately, sorry,” he muttered, glancing back down towards the Rottweiler, his gaze avoiding any one else’s.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw his father start to kneel down in front of them. Zane started to go tense again and the small teen tightened his grip. Looking up, Harry finally met his father’s gaze. He was afraid he’d see anger or disappointment in them, but all he saw was love and concern. He sighed and the tension that had filled him without his knowledge started to fade out of his limbs. “I’m sorry, Dad,” he finally said softly. “I just wanted some time to myself. I had Zane with me,” he added, as if he would count as not being alone. “And, there was this man.”

“What man?” asked all four of them at once.

Harry nearly sputtered at them. “Mr. Winchester. He lives in a manor nearby, he said. He was really nice,” he added at the over-protective looks now adorning the men’s faces. Harry sighed.

His father looked a little disconcerted at this news. “I know to whom you’re referring, but I’ve never met him before. He’s a Muggle, and his manor is about a mile or so to the east of here. How did he come to be on our land?” he asked.

Harry frowned. “I don’t know. He was just riding his horse, Jupiter. They apparently come by this way a lot when they’re out riding. He said he’d never seen the gatehouse before now, and he’d been past that spot tons of times,” he explained. His father looked concerned. They all did, actually.

“Did he ask you about it?” asked Sirius, finally stepping out onto the patio with the rest of them.

“Yes.”

Severus sighed. “Damn. What did you tell him?”

“That it had been covered in vines and that Draco and I had just recently found it ourselves. He believed me,” said Harry, hoping they weren’t going to go and Obliviate the man or anything. He was looking forward to going and spending time with Jupiter. If they Obliviated him, that could prove difficult.

There was a collective sigh of relief. “You’re sure he bought your explanation?” asked Remus, his inquiring mind needing more information.

“Yes. He pretty much forgot about it after that any ways. Zane almost attacked him,” said Harry without really thinking about it.

“What is up with that dog of yours, Harry? He’s been attacking everyone lately!” exclaimed Draco, speaking up for the first time.

Harry shrugged. “He’s just being defensive, I think. And out in the woods with Mr. Winchester, I had tripped and fell and he was leaning over me. I know I was a little scared, and Zane just was suddenly standing over me and growling at him. He just gets like that.”

Sirius nodded. “I’d venture to say he considers you one of his pups. He can sense your emotions, and if you’re frightened or upset, he’ll try to protect you,” he explained, having a little more canine knowledge that the rest of them. “I can completely relate with him when I’m in dog form.”

Harry just nodded, because obviously, he had no idea what it felt like to be in a canine form with protective tendencies. Though he was glad he had both of them to protect him if the need arose. Hell, the way his family had been acting lately, he’d have an entire houseful ready to defend him if it came down to it. Not that he’d do any less for them, though.

“So, tell me about this man you met? If you need me to, I can set up wards that won’t allow him to get close enough to the gatehouse again. If it would make you feel safer.”

Harry didn’t want his father to do that, but it felt nice that he’d do something like that for him just to make him feel safe. “No, it’s all right. He invited me to come over sometimes to see Jupiter, his horse,” said Harry, a grin forming on his face. “You should see this horse, Dad. It’s gorgeous.” Harry knew none of them were too convinced of Jensen’s intentions where he was concerned. He assumed they thought he was some type of Death Eater wanting revenge for his master’s demise. But, Harry didn’t think so. He knew that he wasn’t, in fact. The man was genuinely a good person and Harry figured he’d just have to prove it to his family.

“So, can I come inside now?” asked Harry, since he’d still been standing outside and there was a definite chill starting to set in, even if it was summer.

“Yes, let’s get inside. You haven’t even eaten supper yet, young man,” started Severus, and Harry cringed a bit, hoping he’d have gotten out of the lecture from staying out late.

“Yeah, I am a little hungry,” he replied slowly.

The kitchen was warm and toasty after being outside in the cool night air and Harry soaked it in. The table was set for all of them, and Harry knew a moment of guilt for having made everyone wait to have their supper just because he hadn’t paid attention to the stupid time. “Sorry, I didn’t mean for all of you to wait to eat,” he said hesitantly. “I wouldn’t have minded if you’d eaten without me,” he added, feeling more and more horrible all the time.

“We didn’t want to eat without you,” said Draco, grabbing onto Harry’s arm and bodily moving him into his chair. “Sit, eat, be happy.”

Harry waited until everyone else was seated as well before lifting his fork and stabbing it into the mashed potatoes before him. He finished before everyone else, he’d never had a big appetite for obvious reasons. Afterwards he sat at the table and waited while everyone else finished their dinners. It seemed as soon as the others realized he’d stopped eating their attention turned towards Harry. Lovely.

He threw the napkin he’d been using down on the table and made to get up. He thought his room would be a nice place to be right about then. Turns out though, that his father had something else in mind.

“We need to talk about this still, Harry. Why don’t you keep your seat.”

Harry slumped back down in his chair. He wasn’t sure he wanted to stay for this conversation, especially not when everyone was sitting there watching him. He felt gawked at and he honestly didn’t think it was that big of a deal. He’d stayed out a little late. It wasn’t even past eleven o’clock yet. But, he had to admit he could see where they were coming from. Even if he didn’t like it.

“If I’m going to get in trouble, could we discuss this in private?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest and trying to look defiant. He had a feeling he wasn’t pulling it off too well.

“You’re not in trouble,” interjected Sirius, and Harry had to wonder how he knew what his father was thinking. Or if Sirius just didn’t think Harry should be in trouble, either. Harry would have to side with his godfather in that case.

“No, you’re not. Though, I am a bit disappointed that you keep running off like this,” added his father, making Harry want to sink even further into his chair. He didn’t think he could feel any lower than he did at that moment. It wasn’t like he set out to do things his father would rather he didn’t do. It just felt right at the time. He had a right to have some time to himself, didn’t he? Harry sure thought so.

“I didn’t go out there intending to stay out so late!” Harry tried to defend himself. “It wasn’t on purpose! And, I wasn’t trying to keep away from you either. I just wanted some time to myself! What’s the big deal?”

Severus sighed, looking frustrated. “It’s a big deal because you’re spending more and more time on your own! What are you thinking about? You can’t let this eat away at you, as I suspect you are!” exclaimed his father, his hands in the air.

Harry sank even further into his chair, wishing the damn thing would swallow him whole. This was entirely way too embarrassing. He hadn’t wanted to do this in front of everyone. Guess his opinion didn’t matter for much. “I’m not doing anything wrong, Dad! I’m going to my room,” he stood up and didn’t wait for anyone to stop him. He flew up the stairs like the devil himself was chasing after him.

It wasn’t until he was upstairs and inside his bedroom that he found himself wishing for his door. He never thought the day would arrive where he wanted his door back, but that day had come. And he wanted it. He wanted to lock that door, with himself inside of it. It would be different if he were in control of the lock and not someone on the outside. He made a note to ask his father about it later. But definitely not now, his Dad would never let him have it if he knew the reason he wanted it so badly.

Flinging himself down on his bed, he waited for someone to come up after him. He figured it wouldn’t take long. Only, it wasn’t the person he thought it would be when someone finally came into his room.

“What are you doing up here? Where’s Dad?”

“I managed to make him stay downstairs, actually. Are you all right?” asked Draco. Harry watched as the older teen came and sat beside him on the bed.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” answered Harry immediately. He unconsciously drew his legs up to his chest as Draco sat beside him.

The blonde sighed. “What were you doing out there that you took so long in coming back?” he asked curiously.

“Nothing, really. I started to clean the place up a bit, and then Zane took off out the door. That’s when I met Jensen and Jupiter,” explained Harry.

“And he was really okay to you?” he asked, picking at something that wasn’t there on the comforter on Harry’s bed. “I mean, he was nice?”

“Yeah. He was really nice. You’d probably like him, too.”

Draco nodded distractedly. “Just, don’t go out by yourself anymore, okay?”

Harry groaned. “Why the hell not?” he asked, getting defensive. “Why are you all trying to keep me stuck in the house? I thought you wanted me to get outside and stay out of my room! Would you all make up your minds and leave me alone!” Harry tried to get up, but Draco grabbed his arm and forced him back down.

“Stop acting like we’re all out to get you!” yelled Draco. “We’re just trying to keep you safe, you idiot!”

Harry stopped struggling against the bigger teen and went still. “I am safe,” he said softly. “I know none of you would let anything happen to me.”

Draco scoffed and frowned. “Oh yeah, like we kept you so safe from your Uncle?” he asked harshly.

Harry cringed, going completely still. He couldn’t quite stop the shudder that racked his thin form, causing the Slytherin to stop what he was doing to look at the younger boy. He looked slightly ill when he realized what he’d said.

“I’m sorry, Harry! I didn’t mean to just blurt it out like that…” he trailed off, the look Harry must have had on his face keeping words from forming on his lips. “Harry?”

“No, just leave me alone,” he said quickly, climbing off the bed. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Draco went after him. “You never want to talk about it. You haven’t said a thing to anyone about what that bastard did to you!”

“And I don’t want to either! And I sure don’t plan on starting now!” he yelled, storming from the room. Or he tried, at least.

Severus, Sirius, and Remus were coming up the stairs, probably having heard Harry and Draco’s argument from down in the kitchen. Harry stopped, basically trapped between 3 men and one very upset Draco. “Stop running from us! Because we’re not running from you!” yelled Draco, making so much sense in that moment that Harry hadn’t realized until just then that he’d been feeling just that. He was scared to death his ‘family’ would dump him after all of this. The fact that they hadn’t didn’t seem to be sinking in, though.

All the emotion, the anger that had kept Harry going seemed to drain out of him. He felt like he’d just deflated, and wanted nothing more than to sink to the floor.

“Harry? What’s going on?” asked Severus, looking a little confused. Draco was coming out of Harry’s room at that point, and had his hands on his hips, looking rather irritated. But the concern on his face kept Harry where he was instead of running like he so desperately wanted.

“It’s nothing,” said Harry softly, looking at his ‘brother’ so closely he imagined the other teen could feel his eyes boring into him. “We were just talking.”

“That was pretty loud for just talking, kiddo,” Sirius added his two cents worth for the conversation and waited patiently for a reply. Harry wasn’t very forthcoming. But Draco was more than happy to state his opinion.

“I said something about the…incident,” Harry noticed Draco was giving the three men significant looks, and they all seemed to get it at the same moment. “And he started to run away again! You can’t blame me for getting a little heated,” he explained.

Harry was beginning to feel a little suffocated and tried to slip past Remus on the stairs. The older man had been watching Draco, and Harry thought he just might be able to get past him. No such luck.

“Where are you going, Harry?” asked Remus, his arm snaking out and grabbing hold of Harry’s.

“Downstairs.”

“Why?”

‘To get away from all of you,’ he thought miserably, but didn’t dare say it out loud. “I…” he started, but couldn’t think of a good enough excuse. He decided to go with the truth. “I don’t think I’m ready to talk about this.”

“What’s to talk about? Why don’t you just listen to what we have to say?” asked Sirius, moving around a bit so Harry didn’t feel so confined. “We just want you to feel safe and happy, kid. If you’re constantly hiding away from us, we’re obviously doing something wrong.”

Harry shook his head emphatically. “You’re not doing anything wrong!” he yelled suddenly, taken by surprise. “I just wanted to be…alone.”

“Why would you want that, child?” asked Severus. Harry had almost forgotten he was even there and his sudden voice nearly made him jump.

“I don’t know! I just…I feel like…like…” he trailed off. It was so damn hard to explain. How could he explain it? He threw his hands up in the air and a loud sigh escaped his lips. “I just want to be normal again! And it seems like you’re always watching me, waiting for me to break down or something! And, I’m not going to! I’m just fine! And…and, I-I don’t want you to be disappointed in me!” he nearly screamed. He was panting by the time he was finished venting. And then he realized what he’d just let slip and knew his face must have gone pale.

Severus looked dumbfounded. “Why would we be disappointed in you?” he asked, reaching out to lay a hand on Harry’s shoulder. The small teen quickly moved from within reach and backed into the wall.

“Because I’m disgusting!” he yelled, the hatred of himself suddenly coming back ten fold. He wondered suddenly when he’d gone against his decision not to talk about this.

“The hell you are!” yelled Sirius in return. He obviously hadn’t meant to get quite so vocal though, and toned it down. “You are not disgusting. None of us think that!”

Harry wanted to go. He wanted to be as far away from his family as he could get. Why didn’t they understand? He kissed fight goodbye and went straight to flight. He tried to at least; he hadn’t been very good at it that day, though. Severus had him by the arms before he’d so much as thought of going down the stairs. “Where are you going?” he asked.

Harry balked at him. “Let go of me,” he said, trying to wrestle free. “I’ll just make you dirty too!” he yelled. If anything, his father gripped his arms harder after that.

“You will do no such thing! You are far from disgusting in my eyes, young man. And you will not get us dirty, because you’re not dirty.”

Harry shook his head. “You don’t understand!” he yelled, struggling more valiantly. But it was in vain. His father was much stronger than he was and easily kept Harry in place.

“I think I understand more than you realize,” he whispered by Harry’s ear. “Now, please, just calm down. We’re getting nowhere if we don’t discuss this.”

“That’s the point! I don’t want to discuss this!” he ground out, teeth clenched tightly together, as he tried once more to break free of his father’s strong hold. “Let go!”

“Harry! Would you stop it!” exclaimed Draco. He couldn’t see him at first, but then the taller blonde was standing in front of him and looking at him with worry in his eyes. It was something Harry couldn’t stand to see. He went limp in Severus’ arms, and almost fell out of them. Snape quickly realized what was happening though, and pulled his son more firmly against his chest.

“Are you calm now?” he asked.

Harry felt anything but calm. He couldn’t tell them that, though. “Yes.”

“Do you think we could sit down and discuss this?” asked Sirius, motioning with his hand towards the stairs. Harry just nodded dully. He knew he wasn’t exactly in control of this situation any longer.

They ended up in the living room. It was a room Harry didn’t spend a lot of time in, but it was comfortable and had a cozy air to it. Cella was asked to bring in some drinks and arrived shortly after they’d all sat down in their respective chairs. Harry picked the chair beside the fireplace and farthest away from everyone else. Not only did it offer warmth, but also a sense of seclusion. He didn’t feel quite so vulnerable. There was an afghan draped across the back of the armchair, and Harry pulled it down and around his shoulders. He didn’t know why, but he was suddenly chilled to the bone, despite the suddenly roaring fire.

“I’m not sure where to start with you, Harry,” stated Severus in a calm voice. “I’m not entirely sure of what’s going through that head of yours, either. But, whatever it is, you’re wrong.”

Harry looked anything but reassured. “You wouldn’t understand,” he mumbled.

“No, you’re right. I don’t understand. I have no idea what you went through, but I’m your father. I know you’re hurt and scared. I know you’re confused and don’t know how you feel right now, that you don’t want to talk about this, and that you just wish it would go away. But it’s not going to and we need to do something about this. You can’t go on the way you have been. It’s not good for you, and quite frankly, you’re really starting to scare the rest of us,” admitted Severus quietly. “Please, just let us help you.”

Harry shook his head. “You can’t! Don’t you get it?” he asked, his voice pleading with something he didn’t quite understand himself.

“Why can’t we help you? Why can’t you help yourself by letting us help you?” asked Remus.

Harry just started shaking his head again, almost violently. “I just can’t,” he said. “I don’t want to talk about it. And I don’t want you to have to hear about it. It’s my problem,” he shuddered and pulled the afghan more firmly around his shoulders.

But he wanted to talk about it. He wanted to get it out and let someone else help him with the hell he had found himself standing in. There was a long silence before Harry spoke again. “How could I have just let him do that?” he asked, his entire body taut with tension.

“What?” asked Sirius; completely staggered at the words Harry had just spoken. “Where the hell did you get that notion?”

“It’s true!” defended Harry. “I’m more powerful than all of you put together! You know I am! And I couldn’t even stop him!” he screamed, suddenly throwing the blanket off his shoulders and flinging himself out of the chair. “I-I need to go take a shower,” he said so suddenly that no one even moved to stop him until he was halfway across the foyer.

“Harry stop!” yelled Severus, going after his son. He grabbed the boy’s shoulders, but Harry yanked free.

“Don’t touch me! I’m dirty!” he choked out, running for the stairs now. He almost made it, if it weren’t for the arms that were suddenly surrounding him and holding him firmly against his father’s solid form.

“Stop running,” he whispered in Harry’s ear. He turned around the resisting form and took Harry’s face gently into his hands. “Look in my eyes,” he ordered.

Harry didn’t really have any other choice but to look. The hands holding his face were limiting movement and he found himself looking straight into his father’s eyes. He didn’t see the disgust and anger that he was expecting to see though. He saw love, concern, fear, and a little bit of anger, but Harry could tell it wasn’t directed at him. “I don’t find you disgusting. I don’t think you’re dirty. What happened to you was not your fault! You did not let that bastard do anything, Harry,” said Severus emphatically. “He hurt you in a way that no person should ever hurt anyone, but especially not to a child. And you did stop him! Your magic is still raw and uncontrollable, but you managed to do it, my son. In the midst of that horrible experience, you were able to draw on your magic to defend yourself,” he moved his hands down to Harry’s shoulders and gave him a gentle shake. Then suddenly brought the boy into the protective circle of his arms, hugging him fiercely. “I love you so much, Harry.”

All Harry could do was hang on to his father. He’d been expecting for so long to be shoved aside. He’d stupidly thought his family would suddenly realize how truly disgusting he was. He’d been so afraid they’d be ashamed of him, and he’d no longer have anyone. How wrong he’d been.

Harry was dimly aware that it was only himself and his father in the foyer now, and for that he was strangely grateful. He didn’t want the others to see him like this, not when he was so emotional he was sure he’d break down and cry at any given moment. But he’d seen the looks in their eyes as well; he didn’t disgust them, either.

It was like a million ton weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He suddenly felt like he could breath again, for the first time in a long time.

It didn’t change the way he felt about himself, but knowing he wouldn’t be abandoned at the drop of a hat made it more bearable. He hoped that with time, the still lingering horror and emotional pain of his experience would fade away and he wouldn’t find himself dwelling on it at the most unexpected moments. Knowing his family stood by him no matter what…was a gift he knew would never be taken away.

………………………………..

“What are you guys doing here?” asked Harry, jumping down from the counter he’d been standing on in the gatehouse’s kitchen. He landed wrong on his ankle and nearly went sprawling to the floor. Luckily for him, Fred and Ron had come closer when they’d seen the precarious spot Harry had gotten himself into and were there to catch him.

“We came to see if you wanted any help to finish fixing this place up. We never really got started on it last time, and it seemed rude to just ignore the fact that we had said we would,” said Fred, still holding onto Harry’s arm as he jiggled his foot around to get the feeling back into it after his near fall. “Is it okay?” asked Fred, starting to bend down to inspect the boy’s ankle himself.

Harry stepped away. “Yeah, it’s fine. I think it just went numb from me sitting on it for the past ten minutes,” he explained, pointing up to the windowsill. “We decided to paint today.”

Harry and Draco had come out early this morning to get started. And it had actually been Draco’s idea, which had shocked the life right out of Harry. He thought it might just be a way for them to spend some time together and away from the three men who had taken up residence in the house. It seemed Sirius and Remus had decided to stay on for a while. Harry didn’t mind, but he didn’t think his father was too thrilled with the idea.

Draco came pounding down the stairs and into the kitchen. He skidded to a stop, the smile that had been plastered on his face slowly slipping away. “What are you two doing here?” he asked, his voice harsh.

“We came to help,” stated Fred calmly, the only one who was. Ron looked about ready to spit nails at the blonde.

“We’re not fighting,” demanded Harry, though his voice was as calm as Fred’s had been. “Everyone is here to help and we’ll get done a lot faster if we work together.”

Ron and Draco stared at each other and a look was passed between them. They both suddenly nodded and the tense air that had filled the room was suddenly gone. Harry wondered what had just happened between the two of them. It had just been too bizarre. Like they’d called a truce or something. Well, he was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Let’s get started then. I’ll finish what I was doing in here. Did you get done with the upstairs?” asked Harry, his gaze now settled on the blonde. The upstairs wasn’t nearly as bad as the first floor was.

“Almost. I’ve just got two more walls to finish and then we can start down here,” he said conversationally. “Would anyone like to help me? Then we can all focus our efforts on this monstrosity,” he said, his eyes taking in all that was the first floor. “It’s going to take forever.”

Ron shrugged. “I’ll help you,” he said. Draco nodded and the two swept up the stairs, both talking amicably to the other.

Harry stared after them. “What was that?” he asked slowly.

Fred was looking as confused as Harry, though. “I have no idea.”

“I’m almost afraid of the two of them working together. Should we supervise?” asked Harry, his face showing clearly that he was about to run upstairs after them.

“No, I think they’ll be okay. They’re probably trying to get along for your sake, actually. I’d bet neither one of them are willing to give up your friendship and have decided to call a truce. I really wouldn’t worry about it. Besides, we’ll hear them if they actually start to get into a fight,” he said.

Harry nodded. He had the feeling the next continent would hear their down right screaming fits if they really got started.

The rest of the kitchen was easy to finish painting once Fred started to help him. And, they had the extra benefit of Fred being allowed to use magic. They were finishing what was probably the most abused part of the house when Draco and Ron came back downstairs, neither one looking like they’d gotten into a fight.

“How’d it go?” he asked casually. He was still shocked by this turn of events.

“Great. We got the last two walls painted. And I see you got the kitchen finished. I thought it would take the longest,” said Draco, a stunned expression on his face. Then he looked towards Fred and he put his hands on his hips. “Hey! No fair that you get to use magic!” he said, but his tone was one of joking, so no one took it the wrong way, like before.

“Just wait, the time will soon come and you’ll get to use magic legally, as well!” insisted Fred, hoping his little brother wouldn’t blow a gasket like he had before.

Harry sighed. “You’ll all get to use it legally long before I will,” he moped.

Ron grinned. “Harry, you’re like what…3 months behind me? It will happen sooner than you think, I promise.”

“Yeah, I suppose so,” he sighed once more, then grinned. “I’m just sulking. Let’s get on with this, or we’ll never get finished by supper time,” he added. He still felt bad for the night before, having made everyone wait to eat. It was something he had very personal experience with, and he never wanted anyone to go hungry because of him.

The rest of the afternoon was spend on the first floor, fixing it up, painting, and even Fred transfigured a nice, net carpet out of a dry leaf for the living room.

“Wow, this looks much better,” said Ron, looking around the living room in awe. “This is going to be like having our own house!” he exclaimed.

Draco rolled his eyes, but was grinning just a little bit. “I wonder if Severus will let us all sleep out here some nights?” he speculated out loud.

“I don’t see why he wouldn’t,” intoned Harry, his back turned from the others as he positioned a chair in the corner of the room.

“Well, he’s been wanting to keep you close, for obvious reasons,” said Draco, not really thinking of his words.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed that.”

“He only does it because he worries about you.” Draco said softly.

Harry shrugged his shoulders. “He doesn’t have to.”

“I think we’d all beg to differ,” muttered Draco under his breath. Harry figured he wasn’t suppose to hear that and ignored it was said.

“Let’s just head home,” interrupted Harry. He was tired anyways, and ready to go home. “Are you two spending the night?” he asked of Ron and Fred.

“Do you mind if we do?” Fred asked.

“No.”

Fred looked towards Draco, making it obvious that his opinion was wanted as well. He looked surprised. “No, you can stay. We could all stay in my room, if you wanted?” he asked.

Harry looked more than happy, which caused everyone to agree. “Sure.”

The walk back to the Manor was a quiet one. Harry could hear Zane somewhere in the woods and called to him. The dog came barreling down the trail not two minutes later, and nearly knocked Harry clear off his feet. Fred, for the second time that day, caught Harry and kept him upright. “You have balance issues, short stuff,” he said jokingly.

Harry frowned. “Only when I’m getting knocked over!” he said jokingly, but was feeling a little defensive too. “I’m not that short.”

He saw Ron, Fred, and Draco all look at each other, gauging each other’s sizes apparently, then they all looked towards Harry. He blushed, as they all looked down at him, not at eye level, and definitely not up. “You just keep telling yourself that, Harry,” they said.

“Sure, make fun of the short person,” he grumbled under his breath. He wasn’t really all that upset about it, but he didn’t exactly like to be reminded of it. And it wasn’t as if he could help it. He’d been starved as a child…stunted growth was a side affect.

Right as they were getting closer to the edge of the trees, where the lake was, Zane took off running into the underbrush.

“Damn it, Zane!” he yelled, surprising the others with his language. “I’ll get him,” he said and rushed off after the animal before any of the teens could object.

…………………………

“Zane, I’m going to kick your arse when I find you,” he said heatedly, having lost his way half an hour ago. He wondered if Draco, Fred, and Ron had gone to get his father yet. He assumed they had. He glanced down at his watch, thankful for having put it on that morning, and noticed it was past suppertime. He felt that tinge of guilt start in the pit of his stomach until he almost felt like he would throw up. He was fairly certain no one would be eating their dinner until he was home with them to eat it as well. Not that he wanted to eat after all of this anyways. He was as far from hungry as one could get.

“Zane!” he yelled for the seemingly hundredth time that evening.

All that answered him was the noise of the wind rustling the leaves on the trees. He felt a chill go through him at the sound, not sure why he suddenly felt so frightened. And alone. He wished now that one of the others had managed to catch up with him when he’d run off.

“Come on Zane, it’s time to go home!” he yelled louder, hoping to all that was good in the world that the dog would suddenly show up in front of him. He didn’t, and Harry continued walking in what he hoped was the right direction to get back home. A good hour had passed by then, and he was beginning to get cold as well as frightened.

A slight rustling in the bushes a few feet from his right made him jump. “Zane?” he asked softly, a slight tremor in his voice belying his brave front. Nothing emerged from the bushes and he hoped it had only been the wind. He walked further up a trail, only to realize he wasn’t exactly on a trail so much as a beaten down path in the grass and trees. He hadn’t been this far into the forest, he suddenly realized, and shuddered.

He turned around to go back in the other direction only to come face to face with something rather tall with large eyes. Harry screamed at the top of his lungs. Then took a deep breath and screamed again as the thing in front of him reared back. Harry stumbled over something he couldn’t see on the ground and fell over backwards, the breath suddenly knocked out of him. His eyes slammed shut, that feeling of ‘if I can’t see you, you can’t see me’ kicking in. He tried to get up only to realize his foot was trapped in an exposed and twisted root, presumably what he’d tripped over in the first place. This was becoming way too familiar, he realized and groaned. He had more important things to deal with, though, and valiantly pried open one eye to look upwards at the seemingly humongous form standing over him. Then he blinked. And let out a long breath. “Jupiter.”

The horse came closer then, the voice something he recognized, whereas the screaming had probably frightened him just as much as he had frightened Harry.

Jupiter lowered his head down to Harry’s and stared him in the eyes. “Hey, Jupiter,” he whispered softly. He was surprised when the horse actually lowered himself down even further to rub his face against Harry’s cheek. On instinct, the boy wrapped his arms around the large head and hugged him. He actually felt safer now that he was with the great brown horse.

Pounding footsteps suddenly brought Harry from his relaxed stupor and he was suddenly pulling vainly at his stuck leg. Not only was it trapped, but he was fairly certain he’d really sprained his ankle this time when he’d fallen. He was half frantic when a man emerged from the woods and into his area.

“Harry?” asked a voice he recognized immediately. He didn’t know why he’d been so scared, it could only be a few people who would be in these woods, but he’d been terrified nonetheless.

“Jensen,” he said carefully, his voice strained now that he was sitting still and he realized how much pressure he’d put on his ankle to get free. “I’m stuck.”

The tall man set down his gun and started working to free the boy’s foot from it’s trapped position. Harry stared nervously at the rather intimidating gun.

Jensen shrugged. “I heard you screaming from my Manor. I didn’t know what was going on, but you scared the hell out of me,” he said by way of an explanation at Harry’s look.

Harry cringed. That probably meant that his father and everyone else had heard him too. They must be hysterical by now!

“I have to get home. If you heard me, then so did my father and brother!” he said, trying to stand once more, but fell heavily to the side as his ankle gave way beneath him.

Jensen cringed as well. “They probably would have. Come on, kid. I’ll give you that ride now, eh?” he asked, and carefully swept Harry into his arms before gently tossing him onto Jupiter’s back. Harry waited patiently as Jensen climbed on behind him but stiffened perceptibly as the man’s arms came around him to pick up the reigns. “Are you okay?” asked Jensen worriedly.

“Y-yeah. Just fine. I’m good,” he rambled on pathetically, causing Jensen to peek his head down to look at the boy in front of him. Harry could feel his eyes on the top of his head.

“Harry?” he asked softly, gently tapping Jupiter’s sides to get him to move. “You were only screaming because Jupe scared you, right?” he asked nervously. “Because you’re about as skittish as this guy was when I first got him,” he said heavily, his hand stroking down Jupiter’s mane to emphasize who he was talking about.

Harry stilled. “Yeah, he scared me to death,” he said quickly.

Jensen sighed but spurred the horse into a steady gallop. Harry looked around and realized they were on a dirt road he’d never seen before. But he could see Snape Manor looming up before them, and the steadily growing alarm that had been filling him dimmed. Jensen was taking him home.

“Who are they?” asked Jensen as they passed out of a small line of trees and entered into the back yard where he could see his father, his godfather, Remus, all the Weasley’s, and Draco standing on the back terrace. Apparently they had called for backup. Shite.

As Harry watched, he saw Severus look over and notice them.

“Harry!” he bellowed, and to Harry it looked almost as if a wave of people were heading in their direction.

“Hmm…”started Jensen slowly. “They look kind of menacing,” he said softly, and held on to Harry tighter as Jupiter rose up on his hind legs, kicking out at the group that had suddenly started towards him. “Whoa, Jupe!” he called out, gently rubbing the horse’s mane. Harry took to doing the same thing and instantly Jupiter was calm. “You still amaze me, kid,” said Jensen, referring to Harry’s instant way of calming the brown animal.

Snape was instantly at the side of them as Jupiter came down on all four legs. “Harry,” he started anxiously, giving Jensen what could only be the ‘death’ glare. “Come down from there.”

Harry started to pull his leg over to the other side so he could slide down but a sharp pain flared up in his ankle. He let out a strangled whimper and started to tip over the side of the horse. He tried to grab hold of something, but he was afraid he’d hurt Jupiter if he grabbed hold of his mane. Suddenly arms were wrapped around his waist and his chest and he was hauled back up on the horse.

When the pain faded, he realized his father and Jensen were yelling at each other and Jensen wasn’t allowing Severus to take him. “He’s hurt you asshole!” yelled Jensen, pulling Harry closer to him.

“If you don’t give me my son right now!” yelled Severus, stepping ever closer, but every time he did Jupiter would snap his teeth at him. Harry knew his father would be reluctant to pull his wand, but he could tell Sirius and Remus had theirs in hand, but only one who knew them well would realize it.

Harry had gotten the feeling that Jensen thought someone was hurting him before when he’s first found him. And the way he was being down right defensive now told him he thought it was one of these people before him, and most likely his father. Now that he could see straight and the pain wasn’t making him nauseous, he tapped Jensen’s arms.

“Yeah, kiddo?” he asked, bending forward to see Harry’s face.

“They didn’t hurt me,” he whispered so only Jensen could hear. He said it with blatant honestly and Jensen’s face immediately relaxed.

“Sorry I thought they did,” he whispered in return. Then he pulled one foot around Jupiter’s body, and with Harry wrapped securely in his arms, he slid down to the ground. He walked straight up to Severus, who was watching him warily, and Harry instantly reached out to him.

His father took Harry into his arms and held him like a child. Harry normally would have been embarrassed as all get out, with everyone watching, but he didn’t have the strength or energy at the moment to care. “Are you okay?” his father asked anxiously. He held Harry tighter. “We heard you screaming,” he said louder, giving Jensen a look that said explain or die.

Harry didn’t give him the chance. “Jupiter snuck up on me and when you run into something that big in the dark, with glowing eyes…you’ll scream too,” he said helpfully, watching as everyone looked towards the extremely large horse and understanding lit their eyes.

“You’re sure that’s all that happened?” asked Severus. It was plain to see that he didn’t trust Jensen at all.

“Yes. Jensen heard me screaming too, and came to help me.”

Severus nodded and was suddenly giving Jensen a grateful look. “Then, I thank you, Mr. Winchester.”

“You’re welcome. I’m only sorry Jupe gave him such a fright.”

“And we’re just glad it was only the horse,” muttered Sirius, looking very tempted to take Harry from Snape’s arms, but just barely keeping himself from it.

Jensen stayed long enough to realize that Harry felt quite safe with these people before mounting Jupiter and riding off.

Then, Severus carried Harry inside and sat him down in the first chair he came to. “Is it your ankle?” he asked, taking Harry’s injured leg in his hands as he started rolling up the pants leg.

“Yeah,” he said, resisting the urge to knock his father’s hands away. He waited as the man started muttering spells and then pulled a vial out of his robes. He swore his father was just prepared for anything. As he rubbed the ointment into his ankle, Harry suddenly remembered the reason he’d run out into the woods in the first place. “Did Zane come back?” he asked.

“Yes. Without you, might I add,” stated Draco, his face looking distinctly paler than was normal.

Harry shrugged apologetically. “I’m sorry. He just disappeared,” he looked at the others in some confusion. “What are you all doing here?” he asked, as Molly and Arthur Weasley struggled through all the people hovering at Harry’s side.

“Fred fire-called to let us know what was happening when they didn’t come home at the designated time. We were so worried we came to look as well. And then you came riding up with that man,” explained Molly. She’d finally gotten closer and was running her fingers through Harry’s tousled hair. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” he muttered, beginning to feel embarrassed now that everything had calmed down.

Severus had finished with his work by then and Harry stood tentatively. His ankle didn’t hurt at all anymore. “Thanks, Dad,” he whispered softly.

Afterwards, Molly and Arthur went back home, but allowed Ron and Fred to stay over so long as they behaved and did as Severus said. Mrs. Weasley had given Harry a huge hug, and kissed his cheek. “You come visit us soon, okay?”

Harry nodded and resisted the urge to wipe his face off. It was just a kiss.

Severus, Sirius, and Remus wished them all goodnight and they started up the stairs. When Harry was halfway down the hall, he stopped to go to the bathroom. “You guys go ahead, I’ll be right there,” he told the older teens. They did so and Harry quickly went about his business. When he came out, he could hear his father talking about Jensen Winchester.

Tip-toeing back to the edge of the stairs, he tried to listen in on what they were saying.

It was hard to hear, as they were talking so low, but Harry got bits of the conversation as they headed into Severus’ study.

“Is he a Muggle?” asked Sirius, his voice so low Harry could hardly hear him.

“I’m not sure. But, I don’t trust him, not around my son.”

“Do you think he hurt Harry, tonight?” asked Remus, and Harry could tell, low as his voice was, that Remus was mad.

“I honestly don’t know. But, I don’t like the way he keeps popping up when Harry’s by himself. It just doesn’t feel right,” he muttered to himself, and then the door shut behind them and Harry couldn’t hear anything else.

He sat at the edge of the stairs, wondering why his father seemed so against the man, when Harry himself was certain he was as far from evil as one could get. He didn’t dare ask his father, or he’d let it out that he’d been eavesdropping. He didn’t plan on getting in trouble, either. He shrugged his shoulders, and headed back to Draco’s bedroom.

There was only one thing he could do. He’d ask Jensen himself.

It was during the following weekend that Harry finally got his chance to get out of the house and down to the gatehouse. He’d been stuck inside most of the week due to the weather. It had started raining on Tuesday and kept right on through till Friday. Thankfully, it had finally subsided, and the sun was actually peeking through the clouds sporadically. He worried the ground would be too muddy to actually get through to the gatehouse, but when he and Draco finally made it, their boots caked with mud, they realized they had worried in vain. The gatehouse was probably the only thing that hadn’t been completely soaked by the wind and rain.

“Another spell, you reckon?” asked Draco, his hand already on the doorknob.

“Yeah, I guess so. Though, it makes me wonder if it isn’t recent, considering the state we found the house in when we first discovered it,” mentioned Harry, remembering the open window and all the damage that had been done to the interior of the gatehouse. “I’ll bet Dad decided this place needed more warding, especially since we’re out here all on our own most of the time.”

Draco nodded in agreement. “Hmm…it does seem like the type of overprotective thing he’d do,” he mused. “I wonder what else he’s done that we don’t know about.”

Harry just shrugged his shoulders and pushed his way past the blonde, who had remained in his position in front of the door, unmoving. “Not sure, really. We’ll just have to ask when we go home tonight,” said the raven-haired teen.

“Ah, excellent proposal there, Harry. Do you honestly think he’d tell us what spells and wards he put up on this place? We’re probably being monitored as we speak,” he said, looking slightly irritated.

Harry just thought it was sweet. “Who cares? And, I doubt he’d really monitor us, just rig it so he knows we’re not doing anything we shouldn’t be doing,” interjected Harry. “You’re too paranoid, Dray,” he said.

“I am not,” growled Draco, his brow furrowed in feigned annoyance.

Harry ignored him. “Let’s just finish working and get back to the Manor. It’s actually kind of creepy out here when the weather is like this. Those damn clouds keep obscuring the sun.”

“Sure, Harry, whatever you say.”

“Are you developing a tone with me?” asked Harry, hands on his slim hips.

“So what if I am?” asked the blonde in return, smirking slightly at the look on Harry’s face.

Harry frowned. “Well, I don’t know, but you won’t like it once I figure out what I’m going to do to you.”

Draco stared at him, unblinkingly. “I’m terrified. Look at me, I’m shivering in my muddy boots.”

The smaller teen looked down at the floor and groaned. “Damn it, we’re going to have to clean that too. Great, just great!” he yelled, jabbing his finger at the floor in irritation. They had unthinkingly trudged into the house with their muddy boots still on their feet. “I’ll get the mop.”

“What’s a mop?” asked Draco, trailing after him.

“Stop!” Draco froze at the younger boy’s tone, and then started to pull off his boots once he noticed Harry doing the same.

“Yeah, good idea,” he mumbled, once the boots were off. He opened the door and threw them on the front step. Grabbing Harry’s from where he stood, he did the same with them. “Let’s get to work.”

A few moments later, Harry had finally found a mop in the closet outside of the bedrooms. “This is a mop,” he said, holding up said object with one hand. You put it in soap and water and wipe the floor with it.”

Draco looked disgusted. “I’m not doing that,” he said.

Harry sighed. “Don’t worry, I’ll do it,” he said, turning his back on the older teen. “I’m used to it any way.”

It wasn’t difficult to figure out what that meant, and Draco instantly felt a shiver of guilt in his chest. It was more painful than normal, though he didn’t know why. “I can help, if you want?” asked the blonde, reaching forward to take the mop. “You’ll just have to show me what to do, okay?”

Harry smiled shyly. “You’re really going to help me mop?”

“Well, yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Have you ever cleaned anything in your life?” asked Harry, his tone joking so Draco would know he didn’t mean anything badly by it.

The blonde stood still, looking affronted. “I most definitely have!”

“Like what?” asked Harry, arms crossed across his thin chest, looking for all the world like he didn’t believe a word coming out of Malfoy’s mouth.

“I…I cleaned my room!” he finally stated defiantly.

“With magic?” asked Harry.

“Well yes! How else would you do it?”

Harry sighed. “This way, perhaps?” he motioned towards the mop and the newly filled tub of water he’d gotten from under the sink. He dunked the head of the mop into the water and then rung it out with his hands. Then he started cleaning the floors, going at the muddy places with a vengeance.

“So, that’s how you mop, then?” he asked, clearly forgetting about their fake argument. He held out his hand, offering to take it.

Harry reluctantly gave it to him, hoping this wouldn’t turn into some type of horrendous disaster. “Try not to fling the water everywhere,” he cautioned.

Draco scoffed. “I won’t!” He very carefully repeated Harry’s previous movements and then rung out the mop with his hands. Then he started mopping, doing a really good job too, in his opinion.

The smaller teen had to admit his friend wasn’t doing such a bad job, and was more than willing to let him finish the job, but couldn’t stop himself from asking if Draco needed help.

“Nah, I’m fine,” he responded, his focus set on the floor still.

“Okay,” replied Harry, waiting patiently until the older boy was finished before taking the mop and rinsing it out. “Good job, Draco.”

“Thanks.”

The two spent the rest of the afternoon fixing up the place, and then, with Severus’ permission, they transfigured some leaves into durable furniture for the living room, kitchen, and downstairs bedrooms. “Just in case we ever feel the need to spend the night,” Harry had said.

Draco and Harry were soon finally finished with the gatehouse, and plopped down in the overstuffed armchairs surrounding the fireplace in the living room. Harry gazed out the open window as a slight breeze rustled the curtain. “Will you do me a favor?” he asked suddenly, pulling Draco from his own reverie.

“Sure, what?” asked the blonde.

“Will you walk with me over to Jensen Winchester’s house?” he asked.

Draco glanced up with an uncertain look on his face. “Is that wise?” he wondered aloud, knowing how Severus felt about the man.

“Well, why not? I just want to see Jupiter again, and if Jensen’s around, I wanted to ask him some questions. I’d feel better if you came with me, but if you don’t want to, I’ll go alone.”

“Like hell you will,” stated Draco so adamantly that Harry’s face jerked around to look at the older teen with fright.

“What?”

“You’re not going there by yourself!” he yelled, looking almost scandalized by the notion.

“Why can’t I? I am capable of taking care of myself, you know,” Harry stated heatedly, though he felt warmth growing inside him at his ‘brothers’ obvious protectiveness. Even if it was a little over the top.

“I realize that, Harry. But, just live with the fact that I’d feel better if you didn’t. Severus seems to get a bad feeling with the man, isn’t that enough for you?” the blonde stood, hands out at his sides. “We just want to make sure nothing else happens, all right? That’s all.”

Put like that, the raven-haired teen couldn’t help but feel guilty for even wanting to go out there alone. “Yeah, all right. Well, are you coming then?”

“Of course I am!” insisted the taller of the two as Harry led the way out of the woods and towards where he assumed Jensen Winchester lived.

…………………..

“Are you sure this is the right way?” asked Draco for the millionth time in the past thirty minutes. It seemed they’d passed the same landmarks ten times over, and the boys were both getting a little anxious. “Does that look familiar to you?” he pointed to an oddly shaped tree just off the path.

“No, actually, it doesn’t,” said Harry reasonably. “I’m almost positive we’ll be there soon. Just around this next bend, I’m sure.”

Draco sighed dramatically. “Harry, you said that three turns ago. I highly doubt this one will be ‘the’ one,” he said sarcastically. However, it seemed fate was with them, or it just wanted to make Draco look wrong. Just around the bend in the woods stood another Manor…a rather large one at that. “It’s bigger than Sev’s!”

“It is not,” defended the smaller boy, looking up at the huge house before them. “Well, maybe a teeny tiny bit bigger,” he wagered.

“Well, let’s go knock on the door,” Draco started up the front walk and then the four steps that followed. Harry followed closely behind. Finally, he managed to butt his way in front of the over-protective ‘big brother’ in front of him and did as Draco instructed. He knocked on the door.

It seemed like they had stood out on the front step for eternity when the door finally opened. Harry had half expected a house-elf or some type of butler to open the door. But, there was no servant of any type. Jensen Winchester, himself, swept open the door and looked in surprise at his visitors.

“Hey, kids,” he said, his eyes first going to the blonde, and then the familiar dark haired boy. “Harry!” he said happily, opening the door wider. “Don’t just stand there, you’re letting out the cold air. Come in!” he said excitedly. Harry started to walk in on instinct; it had always been good manners to go in when invited. Draco, however, wasn’t so convinced. He grabbed Harry’s arm and held him back.

Jensen froze in opening the door even wider and invitingly, pondering the two boys before him. “We’d prefer to stay outside, if you don’t mind,” stated Draco coolly.

Harry groaned. This was just great. Draco was going to try and intimidate the nice man and they were both going to get in trouble for it. “Well, that’s fine with me, kid,” said Jensen, shutting the door as he walked outside with the two. “What can I do for you? Did you need something?” he asked.

Shaking his arm out of Draco’s grasp, he looked up at the man and the words just seemed to spill, unheeded, out of his mouth. “Is there a reason I should be scared of you?” he asked all of a sudden, causing Draco to retake his arm and pull him back, behind him. Harry scowled. “I’m just showing you guys that there’s nothing to be worried about!” he yelled, yanking his arm away once again.

“Well, now that you’ve blurted it out, of course he’s going to lie to you!” yelled Draco, pushing Harry behind him again.

“Would you knock it off!” Harry pushed Draco out from in front of him and stood in front of a very shocked man.

“What are you two on about? Of course there’s no reason for you to be frightened of me. Where are you getting this from?” Jensen looked legitimately confused and just a little bit worried at the two boys.

“It’s nothing and we’re going,” Draco had a hold of Harry’s arm for the billionth time and was attempting to pull him down the sidewalk.

“Get off, Draco!” Harry tried to pull away, but Draco wasn’t letting him this time. He gripped tighter, not realizing through Harry’s baggy clothes that he was holding too firmly. “Ow, Draco, let go,” he pleaded, but the older boy was too intent on getting away from the supposed threat, that he failed to notice.

It wasn’t until Jensen had taken hold of Draco’s wrist that he looked down at the thin arm he had painfully wrapped his hand around. He immediately loosened his grip, but didn’t release his friend, still wary of the man that was now holding his own arm.

“What?” he asked anxiously, his need to get Harry and leave growing immensely.

“You were hurting him,” said Jensen, his eyebrows raised knowingly. “He told you to let go,” he added, and then frowned. “I’m not going to hurt either of you.”

“Sure, you say that now. But, once you gain our trust, you’re a whole different person,” exclaimed Draco, not taking his hands off of Harry, but unconsciously rubbing the arm he had just squeezed the hell out of.

“That’s insane,” Jensen did look honestly confused and bewildered. “I promise you I’m a good person.”

Harry finally got a chance to speak. “That’s what I think, but no one wants to believe me!”

Draco shushed him.

“You all think I’m one of them, don’t you?” asked Jensen, making the hair suddenly stand up on both boy’s arms.

“What?” they both asked simultaneously. This time Harry wasn’t against the move Draco made to protect him, pulling him bodily behind Draco’s taller form. “One, what?” asked the blonde, venom in his voice.

“One of those people with the black robes and the white masks,” he said, hands on his hips now. “I saw them the other night. I’m assuming you did too. I don’t know what they were up to, the freaks, but I’m not one of them. Thankfully, they stayed away from my Manor, but they were getting awfully close to yours.”

The feeling of complete and horrifying terror that engulfed both boys at that moment froze their lips from saying anything. They both had to have looked completely shocked and horrified, for Jensen was suddenly placing his hands on either of their shoulders.

“Boys, are you all right?” he asked, all concerned for them now, his slight irritation completely vanquished in light of their obvious fear. “What is it?”

“We have to go,” said Draco, his arm once more clinging to Harry’s, this time with fear. “We have to go, now!” he insisted. He realized then that Jensen wasn’t the one they were getting the bad vibe from, it had been Death Eaters infringing on their territory that had caused the intense feeling that something was wrong. “Oh, Merlin, you’d better come with us,” and Draco grabbed Jensen’s arm as well.

“What?” asked the young man. “Did you just say Merlin?” he asked, clearly thinking the two of them had lost their minds.

“Yes! Now get your butt in motion, we have to leave. You don’t know what kind of danger you were in! When were they here exactly? The men in black? When were they here?” asked Draco, obviously the only one with a clear head at the moment.

“Well, actually, it was last night. I thought I saw something moving in the woods the night before, as well. And when I heard Harry screaming last night, I thought it was those men! But, it was thankfully just Jupiter who’d given him a fright,” he paused in his movement, not even realizing he was going with the boys, when he remembered the horse. “We have to get Jupe, I’m not leaving him here. And besides, it’ll be faster if we all just ride him back to your home,” he insisted.

Harry finally snapped out of his daze, his fear that Death Eaters had found them, most likely to take their revenge on the one who had killed and the one who had betrayed their master. He was more worried for his father, though. “Can we all ride on him?” he asked. “That would be too heavy, wouldn’t it?”

“Kiddo, you don’t weigh hardly anything, and Jensen is a pretty big horse. Believe me, we can ride triple without any problem whatsoever,” he said.

Harry scowled but didn’t protest. He didn’t think he was that weightless, but everyone else in the entire world seemed to think so. “Fine, let’s get the horse and get out of here, then!” he exclaimed, the feeling of dread creeping nearer to his heart.

The stable was just a few yards from the house and they were soon inside. Harry assumed there would be the regular doing of saddling up the horse, but apparently, Jensen was starting to feel the apprehension they were, as Harry suddenly found himself air born, and then straddling the horse, and without a saddle. Draco was thrown up next, in front of Harry. Then Jensen climbed on behind both boys, wrapped his arms around them, grabbed the reigns, and they were off, flying out of the wooden building like a demon was chasing them. Jupiter must have felt their fear, as well.

Their ride through the forest was a quick one as well, they were just barely coming out of the woods by the lake when Harry knew something was wrong. He glanced back and what he saw sent a shiver of dread down his spine. “Oh, shit!” he exclaimed, forgetting his manners and letting the slip of tongue slide right off of it. “Go faster!” he yelled to Jensen as he pulled his wand out of his pocket. “Draco! We’ve got company!”

Jensen tried to look behind him, but was too afraid he’d lose his grip on the reigns and Jupiter would take them wherever the hell he wanted to. He could tell by the way Jupiter kept trying to run away from him that he was frightened of something. And apparently, it was behind them. The boys were screaming at each other and then he heard the oddest words he’d ever heard in his entire life come out of their mouths. ‘What the hell is expelliarmus?’ he wondered as he drove his feet into Jupiter’s sides. He knew he’d be letting the damn horse eat all the sugar he wanted after this. He only gave sugar cubes as a treat on occasion, and he knew he’d be feeling so rotten for riding him so hard like this, that Jupiter would get whatever the hell he wanted for a long time.

Looking ahead of them, he finally noticed a man come flying out of the slightly smaller Manor home, wielding some type of stick, and screaming something that sounded suspiciously like…Latin. He was gravely worried about this family, thinking they’d all somehow lost their minds, when a great white light erupted from said stick and went shooting over his shoulder. He heard an anguished scream from behind him and knew whatever the hell that was had just hit its mark. “Good Lord,” he mumbled, shuddering suddenly. “I’ve entered the Twilight Zone,” he spurred his horse faster, knowing the real threat was behind them, not in front.

Another two men and a stampede of redheads were quick to follow the lone man out of the house, raising their own sticks to help defend them, he realized.

They were suddenly rushing passed the group that was throwing weird looking lights at the ones behind them, and he finally got a good look at what was going on around him as he reigned in his horse and came to a sudden stop. It was the oddest and scariest thing he’d ever seen before in his entire life. It was like a light show, only more powerful and frightening. He knew which lights were just ‘wrong’ and which ones weren’t. He knew the green one was something to steer clear of. He also knew he had to get these kids away from here.

“Where do I go?” he asked, and a slim finger pointed towards the back doors, onto a veranda. He spurred Jupiter on again, and forgoing actually getting off the horse, he just rode straight through the doors and down the hallway. He followed wherever the finger pointed, and he suddenly found himself in what appeared to be a study. “What now?” he asked, clearly in shock and not sure what the hell to do in this kind of situation. It showed how entirely freaked he was just by the sheer fact he was letting a bunch of children dictate what to do.

“We’re going through the fireplace,” stated the blonde with conviction. “Get the Floo powder, Harry. We have to go, or we’ll have more than just Death Eaters to worry about. Severus will kick both our arses!”

Jensen watched in wonder as Harry pulled a vase off the mantle and threw a powdery substance into the dead fireplace. The once fireless fireplace burst into green flames, “Oh my God,” he muttered, and then the boys were dragging him into it. He would later deny he ever screamed like a girl.

…………………………….

“What the hell is taking them so long? They should have been here by now?” asked Ron, standing in the living room and watching the fireplace like a hawk. “I mean, it’s almost been an hour?”

Harry tried to calm his best friend, but he was beginning to feel the same panic the red head was. “I’m sure they’ll be here soon. They probably had to go and speak with Dumbledore and deal with the aftermath of all that was going on,” he said knowingly, though he didn’t really know anything at all. “I’m sure they’re fine.”

“I just…it just doesn’t seem right,” he said, and his head was slightly angling towards the two ‘strangers’ in his house. Not only had Malfoy never stepped foot into his house, but also he’d only ever met this Jensen fellow once.

“They’ll be fine,” Draco suddenly entered their conversation, making Ron scowl and Harry sigh in relief.

“There, see, take our word for it,” Harry was tired of talking and just tired in general. Jensen patted the seat beside him on the couch, still looking slightly shocked at the entire situation he found himself in. When they’d first gotten back, Jensen wouldn’t shut up until they told him what was going on. He laughed at them outright at first, then he seemed to remember what he’d just seen and done. Then he turned sober and sat on the couch. Considering this was the first sign of life they’d gotten out of him, Harry went to sit beside him.

“How are you doing?” he asked gently.

He shrugged his broad shoulders and grinned down at the small boy. “Well, this is definitely a day to remember, that’s for damn sure. How are you doing?” he asked, finally taking notice of his surroundings and the fact that the kids with him were obviously scared. Being the only adult in the house, he finally decided to get his act together.

“Oh, I’m fine,” insisted Harry, pulling a hand roughly through his hair. “It’s all of our parents that I’m worried about. And my godfather, and Remus. I just can’t believe they’re still not back yet. I’m just glad my Dad got into contact with the Weasley’s when he realized the wards had been breached. But, I wonder why he didn’t call Dumbledore, too? Or maybe he did and backup just hadn’t arrived yet,” he said, speaking his thoughts out loud.

“I’m sure the latter is the case,” Jensen gave his opinion, though he really didn’t know what he was talking about. He didn’t even know who Dumbledore was.

“You’re probably right.”

“I always am, kiddo,” he joked, running his fingers through the boy’s hair on habit. He did it with Jupiter and it just seemed natural to do it with Harry too. Not that he would consider the kid a horse, or anything.

Harry flinched away from the sudden and unexpected touch, but Jensen didn’t seem to even notice. At least, Harry hoped he didn’t notice. The man seemed to know just when he was getting too close for the boy’s comfort and when to back off.

“You’d think they’d be eager to get back and make sure you guys were okay, at least,” said Ron suddenly, breaking into the silence that had fallen.

Harry suddenly had a horrible idea. “What if they don’t realize where we’ve gone? What if they’re out there looking for us right now?” he asked.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Harry, they would know we came here. Or at least, they would know we would consider coming here. They’d check here before they’d go anywhere else to look for us. And besides, we’ve talked about this with Severus before. The Weasley’s is one of the check-in points if we ever have to leave the Manor. He’ll figure it out and he’ll come get us as soon as he’s dealt with them,” he said. No one had to ask what the ‘them’ referred to.

Ron sighed but nodded his head. “He’s right. They would come to check for you here.”

Harry nodded his head, feeling remotely stupid for worrying, but not really caring either. He started to get up and go make tea or coffee to give himself something to do when the flames in the fireplace burst into life. His eyes widened and he waited impatiently for someone to come through. There was a collective sigh of relief when Severus stepped out of the flames, followed by most of the Weasley family.

“Are you all right?” asked Harry as soon as the last one was through.

“Yes, we’re fine. Are all of you all right?” asked Sirius, stepping closer and taking Harry’s face gently into his big hands. “We were so worried about you two!” he said emphatically, looking towards Draco with concern as well.

The look garnered a surprised one from the blonde, who obviously hadn’t realized Sirius Black even knew he lived in the same house with the man’s godson. It was apparent that he had been wrong.

“What happened?” he asked instead, and waited as the room quieted so one of them could talk.

“Well, we were attacked, obviously. They apparently found out where we lived, though I have no idea how. That’s still a mystery. But, after you three managed to escape, it didn’t take more than thirty minutes to round up and subdue the other Death Eaters,” explained Severus, sitting down on the couch beside his son. He motioned for Draco to sit on his other side so he could have them both where he wanted them. Safe, with his arms around their shoulders. He ignored the fact that Jensen was also sitting on the couch. He realized now it wasn’t Jensen he’d been so worried about, just as Draco had come to the same conclusion earlier.

“What took you so long getting home then?” asked Ron, equally engulfed by his parents as Severus had done for his own children.

“We had to wait for the bloody Aurors to show up, that’s what,” said Remus, clearly still feeling the annoyance at their lateness. “Had it been a bigger threat, we could have been outnumbered before they even took the time to care that we needed their assistance. Luckily, we didn’t need their assistance. Our own organization came together quite quickly and efficiently and nipped their evil doing ways in the arse. I really think something should be done about that, but what do I know?” he asked bitterly. Harry wondered if he hadn’t complained before, but being a werewolf, his ideas and notions had been ignored.

“We’re going to have to re-ward your house, Severus,” stated Bill, who happened to be home this weekend. Fred and George had also been among the group who had come to their rescue and then had been ‘missing’ for an hour…an hour that seemed like an eternity to the worrying kids at home. Ginny was over at a friend’s house and didn’t even realize what had gone on, thankfully.

“Yes, I know. I was hoping to do that quickly, possibly some day this week? I’ll need some help though,” he subtlety let out, knowing most of the people in the room would give their assistance in a heart beat.

“We can help, Severus. Just name the time and day and we’ll be there,” answered Molly right away. She even went so far as to enlist the help of her family as well, whether they were willing or not. Thankfully, they were all more than willing to help Severus, especially since his son was Harry. That was a big incentive to get the wards back up and make the house safe once more.

“What are you going to do in the meantime? You can’t go back home until we’ve finished with the wards, but you know you’re all more than welcome to stay here,” offered Molly, holding her hands out in a gesture meaning her home. “We’d love to have you.”

“Thank you, Molly. But, I think you have enough on your plate as it is, especially with most of your family being home this weekend.”

“But, where will you go?” she asked, fretting already over their well-being.

“Headquarters, of course. They’ve already offered, and I feel it is the safest place to be right now, even given the circumstances,” he said slowly, knowing the reaction he would possibly receive at this news.

“Headquarters? But Severus, what about…”

Snape was quick to cut her off. “That’s already been taken care of. There will be no problems on that end. I’m sure you understand how risky it would be for Harry and I to stay here, don’t you? You’re whole family could be put in danger.”

She nodded pitifully, but knew she couldn’t ever endanger her children, even if Harry seemed like one of her own, any ways. She worried so much for him.

“Well, that’s settled then, why don’t we all head back to Headquarters and get things settled in?” said Arthur, thankful his wife didn’t throw too much of a fit over the arrangements.

“I’m in favor of that,” said Harry, already tired to the bone and it was only early evening by the time everything was said and done. He had never liked Grimmauld Place, but he was more than willing to go if he could just find a bed and pass out. Draco looked more than agreeable to that.

“Um…where am I going to go?” asked Jensen, his face still pale from the frightening experience he’d just had. Harry felt awful that they had basically ignored him.

“You’ll have to come with us,” he said, already knowing he couldn’t go back to his own home, either. He may be a Muggle, but now that he knew their secrets and all, his own house would surely have to be protected before he could go back.

Severus sighed but nodded his head. “I’ll inform the Headmaster of our situation,” he said slowly, standing to leave.

“Where are we going exactly? And where is Headquarters?” asked Jensen, still confused and bewildered.

“Don’t worry, you’ll find everything out momentarily,” insisted Molly, gently taking his hand and leading him towards the fireplace. “I’m sure you know how to do this, now?” she asked.

He paled further, but nodded his head. “Yes, unfortunately.”

Ron, Fred, and George were at Harry’s side before he was able to leave, wanting to make sure he was okay now that the initial shock had worn off.

“We were worried about you. I think the entire house was in an uproar when we realized the wards had gone down on Snape Manor. My dad somehow knew immediately and ordered us to get going right then and there. It was terrifying. I thought something awful had happened to you lot,” said Fred, his hand firm on Harry’s shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay? Draco, too? Severus told us that the two of you were out on the grounds when the wards went down. I’m sure that was frightening in it’s own respect.”

Harry nodded. “You have no idea. And we had Jensen to deal with as well; he had no idea what was happening. Though, I think he’s finally getting used to the whole situation now. It’s actually good that he knows,” said Harry, suddenly looking around the house with a question painted on his face. “Where did Jupiter go?”

George waved to get their attention and pointed out the window. “He’s out by the garden. Mum would have had a cow if we let him stay in the house,” he told them.

“Oh, good.”

Soon they were all gathering in front of the fireplace and flooing over to Grimmauld Place. Harry wasn’t surprised when he stepped through to the dank, dark house that Dumbledore was waiting for them.

“Hello, Professor,” he greeted him tiredly.

“Hello, Harry. Are you all right?” he asked.

He was so tired he almost didn’t manage the nod, but somehow found the strength to do so. Then, Draco and Severus were standing beside him, having just come out of the fireplace.

“Good evening, Albus,” said Severus as Draco and Harry moved off towards the staircase.

“Wait a minute boys, there’s something I wanted to discuss with you before you turned in,” said Dumbledore, stopping them mid-stride.

Harry sighed pathetically. He really wanted to go to bed. “Yes, sir?” he asked, and noticed for the first time that his father did not look pleased.

Dumbledore motioned for them to go into the kitchen and sit at the table. Three cups of steaming hot sweet tea appeared in front of all their seats and Harry tentatively sipped at his as he waited for the Headmaster to tell them whatever it was he wanted to tell them.

“We do have another guest here, staying on the third floor. He would like to remain un-noticed, so if you all would, please don’t disturb him. He will not answer if you knock on his door. Is that clear?” he stated. He didn’t ask, it was more of an order and Harry found himself wondering just who in the hell was upstairs in this house. He was sure Sirius would tell him if he asked, but it really didn’t seem all that important.

“All right, sir. I won’t bother him, then,” he said. He wondered if Draco would give in so easily, but he nodded his acquiescence as well. Harry snickered behind his cup of tea, wondering how soon his friend would try to figure out who was staying on the third floor.

“How long are you going to be gone?”

Harry was standing on the last step on the staircase, watching as his father, Arthur, Molly, and Bill got ready to leave the house for the day. The wards had to be put back in place, and if they wanted back in their own comforting beds by the next night, they’d need an early start. Harry didn’t think Draco was even awake, as it wasn’t even light out yet. He, of course, had risen at the first sound of footsteps outside his door.

“Probably late evening, if even then. It takes long hours and energy to put up new wards, Harry,” explained Remus. He and Sirius were also going to help out, and Harry had heard them talking about meeting Albus and Minerva when they arrived.

“Okay. I’ll see you tonight then, if I’m still awake,” he said, doubting very seriously if he’d still be up at the time they were hinting at. He had noticed he got tired fairly early lately, which was just a pain in the arse.

Severus came up to him then and gave him a brief hug. “I’ll come up when I get home, so you’ll know we’re back,” he told him.

Harry truly appreciated that he would do that. He knew he worried too much, but he just had the weirdest feeling about today. He really wished they weren’t leaving, but knew they had to. They couldn’t stay here forever, and Harry did not want that at all.

Harry waited until they disappeared after using the portkey before walking into the kitchen to make himself breakfast. He didn’t think Draco would be getting up yet, but he went ahead and made enough for three. Jensen was still around here somewhere, presumably up and awake getting ready for the day. It was something the two had in common, other than the liking of a certain horse.

He placed some cooked eggs and bacon on a plate and quickly poured himself some juice. Sitting at the table, he wondered how long it would be before someone came to join him.

It took two minutes.

“Wow, that smells good,” said Jensen, sitting down across the table from Harry.

”Thanks,” said Harry and he held out the skillet for Jensen to take. “Want some?”

“Sure, thanks, kiddo,” he said, and Harry thought the man looked so ravenous that he’d eat the entire skillet. But, he needn’t have worried, as Jensen only took his share and saved the rest for his brother.

“You’re kind of young to be cooking, aren’t you?” asked Jensen, his spoon diving into the scrambled eggs as he asked. “I mean, I didn’t even know how to cook until I was 20 years old, and then I couldn’t even cook well enough to keep a person alive!” he explained at the odd look Harry must have given him.

Harry shrugged his slender shoulders. “I’ve known since I was young,” he said, hoping the subject would be dropped.

“How young?” Jensen apparently didn’t get Harry’s ‘just drop it’ vibe, and continued with the questioning.

”I don’t know,” Harry replied, shoving his own fork down into the eggs, but instead of eating them, he mixed them around and made a huge mess out of them. “Would you like some more bacon?” he asked, noticing that the older man had almost completely consumed the lot he’d given himself.

“Oh, no thank you. I’m sure the blonde boy will want some when he comes down.”

“Draco, that’s his name,” he told the dark haired man, with a grin. Maybe he’d finally managed to change the subject.

“Yeah, that’s it. I keep forgetting it, though I don’t know why I do. Draco is quite an original name,” he said laughingly, and Harry hoped Draco didn’t hear him say that about his name. He didn’t like to have his name made fun of, not that Jensen was laughing at him or anything. Draco was just easily irritated, he thought.

“So, is Severus your real father?” he asked, taking Harry by surprise.

Shaking his head in the negative, he said, “I was adopted.”

“Oh, when was that?”

Harry did not like where this conversation was headed, he was sure. “Just last year,” he answered carefully.

“Oh, wow, really? That’s not long then. Did you live in an orphanage before then?” he asked, just questioning off the cuff, Harry thought, but they still seemed too thought out.

“No, I didn’t,” he answered non-committally. He started picking at the bacon still left on his plate, wishing he could just disappear. The bacon started to become hard after a while and it broke easily in his hands.

Jensen suddenly reached out and stilled his agitated movements, placing his hands gently over Harry’s. “Where did you live, Harry?” he asked carefully, awareness in his eyes that something else was going on here.

Harry ripped his hands away. He stood up so quickly that his chair hit the floor with a thud as he scooted back. “It’s none of your business!” he said hotly, and fled out the back door. He couldn’t believe the man kept questioning him like that. What right did he have, anyways? It was Harry’s own personal life, and no one else needed to know about it, especially not some stranger he barely even knew.

Glancing up, he realized he was right outside the newly ‘built’ stable, and he walked inside to find Jupiter. He was just inside the one and only stall, and Harry walked up to him carefully and ran one hand soothingly down his mane. “Hey Jupe,” he said softly, leaning into the animal just a bit for some type of comfort. Harry knew he should feel like a right idiot doing this, but he didn’t care. And besides, Jupiter knew all too well what it was like to be abused. He wondered what it would be like to be an animal and to have no voice to yell and scream at the injustice of it all. It must truly suck, he thought. He wrapped his arms around the large horse’s neck, and was surprised when Jupiter laid his own head down on Harry’s shoulder, like he was hugging back.

It seemed truly odd, but he felt like he was giving Jupiter some of the comfort he probably never experienced before, until he’d met or had been found by Jensen Winchester. He wondered how that meeting had taken place. Who had found whom, and what Jensen had done when he realized this beautiful horse had been sorely mistreated. He wondered if he’d gotten angry and just taken Jupiter away from his previous owner, like Severus had basically done with him. He smiled sadly, remembering Severus coming to his rescue all those times. Merlin, he was pathetic. His mind drifted to other times, times when Severus hadn’t been there to rescue him. It had seemed like such a never-ending nightmare, waking up with his Uncle standing in the room with him, as drunk as he’d ever seen him, and stumbling towards his bed. He cringed in remembrance.

Jupiter seemed to sense his feeling heading in the opposite direction of happy and nudged him with his nose. “Sorry, boy,” he said softly, standing back and looking up into huge black eyes. “It just really sucks,” he muttered into Jupiter’s silky mane, “that I used to think my life was fine, just a few hits and smacks in my childhood, only to realize it had been so much worse than that,” he said quietly. “How could I have forgotten?” he whispered, still plagued by the new memories and horrifying details he’d shoved viciously into the back of his mind.

The big horse seemed to cuddle even closer, if that were possible, and Harry almost ended up with a mouthful of Jupiter’s mane. “Jupe,” he laughed and gagged all at once. “Back up a bit, horse,” he said, and pushed off gently. Jupiter moved backwards but his eyes seemed planted on Harry’s own. “It seems like you really do understand,” he said softly, and once against rubbed his hand up and down the side of the brown horse’s neck. “And, I think you really would, too. Considering.”

He sighed and leaned back against the stall’s door. Jupiter rested his head on Harry’s shoulder again, and the small boy patted him absent-mindedly. Harry wasn’t sure where it came from, but the desire to talk suddenly awoke within him so strongly, the words just spilled out of his mouth heedlessly. He spoke of every single thing that was ever done to him. It was good to just talk sometimes, and knowing Jupiter wouldn’t exactly spill his thoughts to anyone else, he let himself have this moment. When tears started to run unchecked down his pale cheeks, the horse nudged his face comfortingly. When he thought his entire body would shake apart from the violent shivers that were racking his frame, Jupiter pressed his face under Harry’s chin and stayed there until the boy quieted. “Why did this happen to me?” he asked, raising his hands up to his face and continuing to cry.

It wasn’t until he heard a noise over in the corner that he realized he’d been overheard. Harry almost gave himself whiplash at the rate he moved his head. He vision swam when he saw who was standing inside the building, well within hearing range, and looking quite horrified.

Harry felt it as all the blood drained from his face, leaving him looking pale as a ghost. “I-I have to go,” he muttered, his face beginning to flame as he realized Jensen probably overheard every single thing he’d just said.

“I think Jupiter just got as much comfort out of you as you were able to attain from him,” Jensen said quickly, yet softly. “He knows how you feel, at least partially,” he remarked casually.

Harry was stopped before he’d ever really started moving. It had felt like Jupiter knew exactly what he was feeling. It was almost as if the horse was emphatic or something. If that made any sense, he didn’t even know, and he wasn’t about to ask Jensen about it. But, his words left him standing and looking critically at the big brown horse.

“Jupe’s a great horse, Harry. He’ll be able to understand more than you’ll ever know, if you want to keep talking to him,” he whispered.

Harry just stared at the bigger man. “It seems like there is something…more,” he said softly, “to him that meets the eye.” He hadn’t planned on saying anything, but he never could seem to keep his big mouth shut when it really mattered.

“There could be something special about him. I never would have thought so, other than it’s always been really easy to talk to him whenever I was feeling so low to the ground I thought I’d sink right into it. But, after seeing all of this,” his hands reached out as if to take in everything around him, “I think I’m more than willing to believe there’s more to Jupiter than meets the eye.”

Harry nodded and reached out to touch Jupiter’s nose with his hand. “I think there is, too,” he whispered carefully, almost afraid he’d brush his hand off.

“Are you okay?” asked Jensen, unable to keep his curiosity at bay for much longer.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Harry dismissed the question as best he could. It didn’t help much though, Jensen was nothing but impatient when it came to getting answers out of someone, Harry had come to realize.

“When I was twelve, my dad hit me for the first time,” he started slowly, getting Harry’s immediate attention. “He was drunk, which seemed to be a permanent thing with him at the time. My mother had just died the year previous, and he blamed me for everything. He thought if I hadn’t been at school that night for rehearsal, she never would have been killed,” he sighed, shrugging his shoulders. “She came for me that evening, in the pouring rain, and ended up getting killed by a drunk driver,” he gave out a bitter laugh. “You’d think my father would have steered clear of the alcohol because of that! But, he didn’t. A week later, he started with the abuse. It only lasted about a year, when one night he nearly killed me and his eyes seemed to finally awaken to what he was doing to me. Two things stopped that night, the drinking and the hitting. He never did it again, but I’ll never forget it,” he whispered.

Harry didn’t quite know what to say. “Did you forgive him?” he asked suddenly, wondering what the answer would be.

Jensen shrugged a shoulder and glanced at the smaller boy out of the corner of his eye. “Yes. I couldn’t help but love the bastard. He’d been good to me before then, and he was good to me after. I just don’t understand what made him do it in the first place. I think it was the grief. And I think he turned himself around knowing my mother would have come back from Heaven to kick his arse for what he was doing to me that set himself straight. Plus, I do think he loved me somewhere down deep in his heart, he just couldn’t seem to find himself during that one painful year.”

Harry had been looking at the floor quite liberally by the time Jensen was finished talking. “My family never loved me,” he spat out quietly. “I never stood a chance.”

Jensen had his hand on the slender shoulder before Harry even realized the man had moved. He tried to stop the flinch, but it escaped him any ways. “Sorry,” he muttered pathetically.

“Some people have it worse than others, kiddo. From what you said earlier, your home life was something no child should ever even have to hear about, let alone endure. Your relatives were monsters, nothing more, nothing less. There was something wrong with them, for doing that to you. You’ve got to be one of the sweetest, nicest, well-mannered children I have ever met in my life. Despite their awful abuse of you, I think you turned out as one hell of a kid. I’m fairly certain they can’t say that about themselves, or their own child,” he said meaningfully.

It was nice to hear, though he doubted the Dursley’s would have felt that way about themselves. He knew what horrible people they had been, what they had become, but they would never get a chance to realize it, would they? They would never get the chance to think back at the way they had treated their only nephew and regret what they had done. They were dead. All but Vernon, and Harry knew he wouldn’t ever regret the awful things he had done to his only nephew. But that was their loss, not his.

He couldn’t believe Jensen thought so highly of him. It was actually quite a shock that someone even thought he was the nicest and sweetest kid they’d ever met. I mean, he’d been told many things about himself in his lifetime, and that had never been one of them. He had always been called names and told he was worthless. It was nice to hear differently, especially from someone who didn’t know who he really was, someone who could only go on their gut instincts about him, not his fame and stupid background. He suddenly realized it was just really nice to be complimented.

“Thanks, Jensen,” he muttered quietly, slightly embarrassed about the entire thing, but pleasantly pleased as well. “I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier,” he thought to mention, knowing now he’d let his emotions get away from him. He couldn’t believe how much of a brat he’d been to the man.

“Don’t worry about it, Harry. I can understand where you were coming from. And besides, it wasn’t very polite of me to just dig into your past like that. It’s your business, and I already feel awful for overhearing what you said to Jupe. I have to admit, when I realized what you were confiding in him, I just couldn’t make myself leave. I thought I might be able to help you in the long run, and I knew you’d never admit to it yourself. I’m so sorry, Harry. Truly, I am,” he said apologetically.

Harry just shrugged. “Actually, if you hadn’t been out here eavesdropping on me,” he said with a small grin. “You wouldn’t have known about my past to talk to me about it. I’m really kind of thankful that you did. I wasn’t at first, but now I am,” he told the older man shyly.

“Well, at least something good came out of the whole thing.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” returned Harry. Nothing had exactly been ‘fixed’, but he did feel more understood. Like he had an ally or friend who truly understood where he was coming from. It was actually quite a relief. He felt like there was a possibility he could someday get over this. That one day, like Jensen, he’d be able to sleep at night without nightmares. That some day soon, it wouldn’t feel like his life had come to an end. There was an end in sight.

“Are you ready to go back inside now? I’m actually getting kind of cold out here. The temperature must have dropped,” he muttered, stepping outside of the stable and looking towards the sky. “Well, it looks like it’s going to rain again,” he realized unhappily. “Why does it always have to rain just when I want to be outside?”

“No clue, kiddo. Let’s get inside before we get drenched, though,” he said and quickly ushered the smaller boy into the house and shut the door firmly behind them.

………………………….

It was later on that day, around four in the afternoon, when they got some company. The Weasley boys, Ron, Fred, and George, all tumbled out of the fireplace, looking disheveled but ready to see their friends.

“Hey, Harry!” called Ron, walking into the living room where Harry was reading on the couch and plopped himself down beside the smaller boy.

Harry looked up in shock and surprise. “Hey,” he started uncertainly. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Oh, Mum was worried we’d get into too much trouble by ourselves and sent us over here so we’d be occupied with you lot,” he said, waving his arm around at the room full of people. Harry wasn’t the only one who had decided to just sit down and read a book. Draco and Jensen, with nothing better to do, had made themselves at home at a table near the fireplace. Draco was attempting to teach the older man the basics of Wizard’s chess. Harry thought it might take a while.

Ron, seeing what was being played, went over to give his own ‘expertise’ to the two.

Fred and George sat down on either side of Harry and looked over his shoulder as he read.

“Whatcha’ got there?” asked George, trying his hardest to be annoying by reading over Harry’s shoulder and invading his personal space in the process.

Harry sighed and looked at Fred with a pleading look on his face, then turned back to George when he got no sympathy from the other twin. “It’s a little thing I like to call a ‘book,’” he said slowly, as if talking to a four year old.

George grinned and snatched the thing out of Harry’s hands, throwing it somewhere behind the couch. “Come on, we can find something better to do than that,” he said, trying to drag the slender boy off the couch. Harry stood his ground, or remained where he was seated.

“Thanks, but no thanks. I’m actually kind of tired. I’d like to just sit here and veg out, if you’ll let me,” he said, letting loose with a jaw popping yawn at the same time.

“You are tired, why don’t you go lie down and take a nap,” asked Fred, looking with concern now, at his friend.

Harry shook his head. “I’m not that tired, thanks.”

“Just looking out for your best interests,” insisted Fred, pulling on Harry’s arm to take him upstairs. “You look drawn out anyways. What have you guys been doing today, any ways?” he wondered, taking in Harry’s pale and tired face.

Harry merely sighed and shook his head. He wasn’t about to tell the real reason behind his exhaustion. Talking about his past was always emotionally and physically draining, but that was something he planned on keeping to himself. Only one outburst per day was allowed, he figured.

“I’m really fine, guys. And, I’d rather stay down here, so stop pulling on my arm,” he said, pulling futilely on the limb still within Fred’s grasp.

“Hey, leave him alone. If he wants to stay down here, let him stay down here,” said Draco, standing up from the game with Jensen and Ron. Harry knew he was going on the defensive again. But, he didn’t realize that Draco still felt bad about doing the same thing to Harry the night before, when they’d been at Jensen’s before the Death Eaters chased them. He worried Harry’s arm was still sore from it.

Fred gave Draco a sullen look. “Look at him, Malfoy. He needs some rest. He won’t exactly get it down here with everyone yelling and talking and playing games,” he said insistently.

Draco shook his head. “Who cares? He can sit quietly and read like he was doing before. That’s not exactly physically exhausting you know. He can stay down here with us,” he returned just as insistently.

Harry shrugged his shoulders and sat back down on the couch. He wasn’t leaving, and that was final.

Fred eventually gave up on his useless plight, Harry wasn’t going anywhere, it seemed, and he didn’t want to get into an argument with Draco. He knew how upset it made Harry when they did argue with the blonde. He wasn’t going to tread down the same path his little brother had. He knew the end results.

They spent the rest of the afternoon in the living room, with Harry on the couch reading, with Fred by his side doing the same. The other four ended up playing rounds of chess. It only was two games, but with Ron there, he kept beating out everyone else, except Draco. The Slytherin was actually rather good at playing chess, and had even beaten out Ron.

“I can’t believe you beat me,” said the redhead in shock. “No one ever beats me.”

“Yes well, Lucius taught me how to play when I was five,” he said offhandedly. “Is it time for dinner yet?” he wondered aloud, standing and stretching his lean frame before collapsing back into the hard chair.

Harry glanced at the clock on the mantle and decided it was most definitely time for dinner.

Draco looked slightly perplexed. “Is Cella here?”

“No, she’s helping out with the wards. So is Deliverance. We’re on our own, Draco, in making supper for ourselves,” he said, watching as the blonde’s face fell into a frown.

“I can’t cook to save my own life,” he muttered.

“Don’t worry, I can cook.” Harry hefted himself up off the couch and nearly fell back into it. He was tired, but he hoped no one had noticed his little dizzy spell. But, Fred pushed him back down when he tried to get up again.

“I said you were too tired, didn’t I?” he asked defiantly. “Maybe next time you’ll listen.”

Harry just shook his head and waved him off. “I’m perfectly fine. But, I probably will turn in early tonight, just the same,” he said to appease the annoyed look on the older teen’s face.

“You know, isn’t the adult supposed to take care of the kids?” asked Jensen, standing up and making his way to the kitchen. “Unless you all don’t have a working stove, I can make just about anything.”

“Yeah, we have a stove. I’ll have to show you how to use it, though. It’s a little weird,” mentioned Harry, slowly following after the rest of them.

………………………..

Dinner was a quiet affair. Jensen had ended up making some simple grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup that he’d found in the cupboard. “My own Mum used to make this for me when I was a kid. It was my favorite growing up,” he’d said when he found the soup behind a bunch of items he’d never even seen before.

Harry nodded. He’d enjoyed it too, whenever he’d made it for the Dursley’s on a summer evening and managed to steal a bite or two. It had been good.

“How much longer before the Wards are completely finished?” asked Jensen, trying to start a conversation with the boys he found himself in charge of. Plus, he was very interested in everything he’d learned in the past day and a half. To realize that there was a world like this outside his own was amazing and he planned to learn as much as possible.

“Oh, probably by late this evening,” said Harry. “At least, that’s what my Dad told me. It could be later, but regardless, they’ll be home sometime tonight.”

“I still can’t believe Death Eaters got past the wards in the first place. I just want to know how they found out where you all live and how to get passed the wards Snape had up. I mean, who would know what type of wards he had up around his place?” asked George curiously.

Draco shrugged. “Who knows, I mean, Severus used to be one of them, maybe they knew something about his wards that Sev just forgot to fix,” he paused for a minute re-thinking what he’d just said. He shook his head. “No, he wouldn’t have forgotten something like that. Someone must have followed us home or something, one day. We have been out a few times since we moved in. I’m sure someone would have recognized us at one point or another,” he explained, trying to rationalize it all to himself.

“Well, it still doesn’t answer how they got through them. Even if someone did follow you home, they’d still have to get passed all the spells and wards keeping people away from your home before they could get inside. But, I guess if someone wanted in, they’d find a way,” said Fred, sitting back in his chair after finishing his cheese sandwich. “That was really good. Thanks, Jensen.”

The dark-haired man nodded his head, easing his own half-eaten sandwich on the plate before him. He’d tried for two sandwiches, and now he was just to full to eat the rest of it. He would offer the rest to one of the boys, but that just seemed kind of weird. He knew these kids, but not that well.

“Does anyone want to go play another rousing game of chess?” asked Ron, having finished his own sandwich as well and ready for something else to do.

“I think it is about time for bed, wouldn’t you?” asked Jensen, glancing at the clock. He was also giving Harry a critical once over.

It was still early in Harry’s opinion. It seemed extremely strange going to bed after just eating supper, but they had let the time get away from them and had eaten a late meal. “I wanted to stay up and wait for my Dad,” said Harry in a hopeful tone of voice.

“Harry, you’re exhausted. I tried to get you to go to bed earlier and you wouldn’t do it. I think you should turn in now,” said Fred, his worry for his friend showing clearly in his eyes. “In fact, I insist.”

Draco actually agreed with the older teen this time. “Harry, Severus said he’d come and wake you up when they got home. Why don’t you just go on to bed?” he asked. “You do look a little fatigued.”

Harry looked anything but pleased, threw his napkin on the table, and rose from his chair. “Fine,” he muttered, feeling slightly ganged up on.

“Well, don’t go off feeling upset,” insisted Jensen, standing as well.

“I’m not upset!” said Harry, leaving the room. He really was tired, he realized, but it just felt wrong having them all tell him what to do. It’s not like they were much older than he was, and there they were acting like he was 4. He’d be 16 in a month, thank you very much. He stumbled up the first stair on his way up and took the rail to steady himself. With a blush starting up his cheeks, he looked towards the steps into the kitchen to make sure he hadn’t been observed. Somehow, he knew that would just top it all if he’d been seen nearly falling up the stairs. Down was one thing, up was an entirely different embarrassment.

He climbed into bed, and glancing at the clock, he noticed it was only half past ten. Not too late, but way too early in Harry’s opinion, considering it was holiday and he always stayed up a little later than this. He grudgingly put on his pajamas and got ready for bed. Climbing between the sheets, Harry hoped his father would be home soon and that what Draco said was true. He knew his father had said he’d come and wake him when he got home, but all night he’d felt something was different, like he should stay awake. It was odd, but he decided not to let it bother him. He turned off the lights and settled down into his pillows, but sleep was slow in coming that night.

……………………………….

“Well, that went well. Now he’s mad at us,” said Fred, sitting back down in his chair.

“Well, you did basically tell him to go to bed,” remarked Draco, leaning up against the wall with a cup of hot tea in his chilled hands. “I’d be a little upset myself.”

Fred, George and Ron all glared at him. “You told him to go to bed, too,” they said almost in perfect unison.

Draco blinked. “No, I merely suggested he go to bed, I’m not the one who ‘insisted’ on it,” he muttered, taking a sip of the hot liquid. “I know how to talk to my brother,” he added absentmindedly.

“You’re not his brother,” spat Ron, looking extremely angry.

Draco looked up alarmed. He didn’t realize he’d said that out loud, and found himself feeling extremely flushed over it. And a little angry. “I think my relationship with Harry is none of your business,” he said hotly.

Ron looked sorely annoyed. “He’s more my brother than yours. We’ve been friends with him for a hell of a lot longer than you have. You can’t go off saying stuff like that, Malfoy.”

“Why the hell not? Severus is going to adopt me too, you know. We’ve talked about it for a while now, and if that happens, we will be brothers,” he said haughtily. “Legally!”

The redhead looked about to burst into flames he was so upset. “Not where it counts!” he said firmly, slapping a hand to his chest, directly over his heart. “I know he cares about us more than you! You were nothing but a bully when I was always a friend. You’re lucky he even talks to you, let alone thinks of you as more than a nuisance he has to put up with because his father just so happens to be your godfather!” he hissed, and immediately wondered where the hell that had come from. Why was he even fighting with the blonde? He looked at Draco’s face and realized he’d just said something completely hateful and awful. Draco looked really and truly hurt.

“Ron!” said Fred, looking aghast and royally pissed off. He knocked his brother up the side of the head, then he looked at Draco. “He didn’t mean that, Draco,” he said, his face a mask of sympathy. “That was mean and hurtful,” he began, but Draco was already standing up and giving Ron a glare that ended up making the older boy feel like the worst type of person ever.

“No, just don’t talk to me. I know where you all stand now,” he whispered and left the room in a hurry. He barely heard one of the twins threaten to kick Ron’s ass as he disappeared up the stairs.

………………………

He didn’t know what to think, how to feel, or where to go. It was completely stupid of him to believe a word Ron had said in anger, but for some reason, he was letting it all take root in his head. And his hurting heart. Did Harry really think that of him? Did he really only tolerate his presence because Severus was his godfather? It seemed completely asinine, but what did Draco know? It could be true.

He shook his head. Nothing seemed to make sense and all he wanted to do was go pound on Harry’s door and wake him up. All of his doubts were driving him crazy, and the only answers lay behind the door he refused to disturb. Harry had been so tired earlier that Draco couldn’t even bring himself to raise his hand to the door, let alone knock.

It was actually rather startling that he found himself on the third floor. He hadn’t meant to end up here, knew he wasn’t supposed to even step foot on this floor, yet here he was. He wasn’t sure which door was forbidden, but found himself searching for it. It was like something had just awoken in him, and he felt the need to find this mysterious door. Oddly, he hadn’t even thought about it until just now, not even before when he was still in good spirits with Harry and his friends. The teen sighed, realizing he’d started thinking that the Weasley’s were really starting to like him as a friend too. Just as he’d started to consider them friends. It was something else that weighed heavily on his chest, something he couldn’t seem to get rid of.

All the doors up here were locked, he realized, probably to make it more difficult to find the actual room no one was allowed in, but Draco could feel a strong pulse coming from a room three doors down on his left. It was more heavily barred than the others and Draco knew that was the door he was searching for.

Knowing he wasn’t supposed to be doing this probably just made it more appealing, so Draco took out his wand, knowing he would probably get into trouble once the adults found out what he did, and attempted to unlock the door. It was harder than he thought it would be, as the locking spells were stronger than just a good old alohamora could get through. It took some previous knowledge that Lucius had given him to break through the spells and charms on the door, and he suddenly found himself in a dimly lit room. “Hello?” he called out anxiously, wondering for the first time if there had been another reason to stay out. He realized too late that he shouldn’t have ever unlocked that door.

……………………..

Harry sat up in bed so quickly he felt dizzy. “Oh, shite,” he muttered, flinging off the covers and climbing out of bed. He wasn’t sure what was wrong, but he knew something was. It didn’t take two minutes to get out into the hallway and up the stairs. He wasn’t sure where he was going; he just went where he felt he should be. It wasn’t a pleasant realization when he ended up on the third floor. He wasn’t supposed to be here, but the door that wasn’t supposed to be open…was open.

Peering down the dark hallway, Harry tried to make out if there were any shapes in the darkness that he couldn’t make out. Like a person. There was no one there, however, he sensed a presence somewhere down the hall.

Walking closer, he stopped in front of the open doorway and stepped foot inside it. As soon as he did, he heard voices and realized there must have been a silencing charm on the door. One of those voices was too frighteningly familiar and he cringed when he heard it. But, it wasn’t possible. He wasn’t supposed to be here!

…………………………….

The room was so dark he almost couldn’t make out the form coming at him, but when he was suddenly grabbed by the arms and violently shaken, he finally recognized the large face mere inches in front of his own. He’d seen this man only once before, and he would never forget the damage he had done to his friend. His shock at that moment couldn’t be said in words, his eyes merely widened and he knew he had to keep this man away from his brother.

“Thought you’d come to gloat, did you boy?” he hissed, shaking Draco harder. It was in that moment that Draco realized this man thought he was Harry. He’d probably gone a bit crazy, as it was obvious this room hadn’t been visited in quite a while, and the man residing within had been held prisoner here. “Well, I’ll make you regret you ever came up here, you little shit!” he screamed, and Draco was shocked to find himself bodily lifted and thrown onto the bed.

Realizing the man’s intent, he scrambled backwards towards the edge of the bed only to feel one of his ankles grabbed as he was roughly pulled back towards his attacker. Kicking at the man’s face, he managed a small connection with the side of Dursley’s cheek and paid for it. He was viciously grabbed by his throat and punched in the face. Draco let out a moan and fell back onto the bed, not completely there as his consciousness tried to fade away from him. He held onto it valiantly, knowing if he passed out now what would be done to him. And, he couldn’t let the man find Harry.

He vaguely noticed Dursley was speaking to him again, but the words weren’t making a whole lot of sense, but he knew they were threatening him in ways he’d never been threatened before. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time, boy!” he hissed, and Draco felt the hands around his neck tighten further. “I’m going to kill you, Potter. You realize that, don’t you?” he said, and squeezed his hands around the slender neck. “But first, you’re going to suffer,” he muttered, and Draco felt a hand slide down to his trousers. He kicked out defensively but only met air.

“You always hated this boy, didn’t you? Now it’s going to be the last thing you’ll remember before you leave this earth. You’re going to die screaming,” he said hysterically, almost manic with his glee at hurting his nephew in such a way. It still hadn’t registered that the form beneath him looked nothing like Harry Potter, he was so deranged and psychotic by this point. He just wanted to hurt the boy.

Draco tried to get out some sort of scream, but even with the hands restricting his breathing, he knew no one would ever hear him. He was fairly certain there were silencing spells on the damn door. He was going to die up here and no one was even going to know until tomorrow morning. He thought of Harry then, probably sleeping soundly in his bed downstairs. Draco was actually glad the boy wasn’t enduring this right now, that this insane man would hurt him and never realize he wasn’t Harry. He just hoped and prayed that the man would leave once he was done and not go after any of the others.

Just as his consciousness was about to fade completely away, his air having been almost completely restricted, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head as well as he could and saw the horrified eyes of his brother. ‘No,’ he thought desperately. He wanted Harry to run away. If Dursley saw him…he let the thought wonder off. But, when he saw Harry start to back away, he felt his heart almost shudder to a stop. All his earlier worries that Harry didn’t even care about him came back and he felt his heart break at the realization that his ‘brother’ was just going to leave him here.

……………………………..

Harry heard the words the man spoke. He knew in that instant as he stood in the doorway who it was in the bedroom. But he couldn’t fathom how the man had gotten inside Grimmauld Place. ‘Oh, God,’ he thought, the words the man was speaking finally registering in his head. His Uncle meant to do it to him again! He’d been seen. He cautiously started to back away from the door, his heart hammering in his chest, a mantra of ‘Oh, God,’ running through his head continuously.

Then he saw something that before he seemed to have just…not recognized. There was someone else in the room. He finally registered that there was someone underneath his Uncle. The man hadn’t been talking to him; he’d been talking to the person in the room with him. He hadn’t even been seen yet! And then his eyes finally met the gray ones and realization struck. Draco. Any idea of fleeing the area was abruptly dismissed as his eyes hardened and he looked up at his Uncle in rage. ‘Nobody touches my brother,’ he thought angrily. He would not allow what happened to him to happen to Dray. He wouldn’t let him be broken the way he had.

Harry felt like he had somehow stepped away from his fear and embraced his anger. It was the only way he was going to be able to do what he was about to do. Entering the room completely, he almost shuddered as he saw where the man was touching Draco, but Draco didn’t seem to even be noticing. He was just staring at Harry in shock, as if he hadn’t thought Harry would help him. Well, if that wasn’t a kick in the stomach, he didn’t know what was. He felt his heart drop when he realized Draco must have thought he was leaving him when he’d started to back away from the doorway. That made him even angrier and his hand came up in a defensive posture, and with a wide sweep on his arm, Vernon Dursley found himself flying across the room to smack dead into the wall. The house reverberated from the impact, and Harry hoped to all that was good in the world that the others had bloody well woken up! He needed some help.

Running to Draco, he helped the older teen to sit up on the bed. “Are you all right?” asked Harry shakily.

Draco nodded and suddenly pulled Harry into a tight hug. He just held the smaller boy securely in his arms, making the younger of the two wonder who was comforting who here.

“Are you?” asked Draco, rubbing stiffly at his neck. It still hurt from where Dursley had his hands wrapped around it. He was just glad he could breathe again. He shivered. He couldn’t believe what that bastard had tried to do to him, what he had done to Harry in the past. He looked at Harry and smiled weakly. “I had hoped you wouldn’t end up waking and coming up here somehow,” he said sadly.

Harry shivered in response to that. “I’m glad I did,” he whispered, jotting his head in the direction of the unconscious man on the floor. “He would have hurt you.”

Draco nodded and groaned. “He thought I was you.”

Harry looked at Draco in growing horror. “What?” he asked, feeling more and more responsible as the moments passed. “I’m so sorry, Draco!” he said, distressed, and threw his arms around the older boy once more. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again.

“Stop it, Harry. It’s not your fault,” he said emphatically, his voice a little hoarse. “I don’t blame you at all.”

That didn’t seem to help Harry’s guilt though, for the next thing he said made Draco realize the boy was blaming himself for just about everything. “And, I almost walked away from you, too! God, what kind of person am I?”

Draco wasn’t sure how to go about answering that. Harry had come back, but for a minute, Draco himself had thought the raven-haired boy was going to leave him.

“I just didn’t realize you were there. I thought he was talking to me at first,” he muttered.

Draco sighed. “Technically, he was,” muttered the older teen. “But, you came back.”

“Yeah, of course I did. I saw you.”

“Then what else matters?” asked the blonde.

Harry just shook his head. “What is he doing here any ways?” he asked. He glanced over at where his Uncle was only to realize his body was no longer there. “Oh, God!” he said, alarmed. “Draco, where’d he go?”

“What?” he looked towards where he’d last seen Dursley and saw that he was indeed missing. “Oh, shite,” he muttered, his heart suddenly thundering in his chest. He was trying to put on a brave face, but hell, the man had just tried to molest him. He hadn’t done anything, really, but he’d tried. He couldn’t help but worry, and the fact that now Harry was here, too. He wouldn’t go after him this time; he’d go after Harry. “We have to get the others,” he said suddenly, jumping up from the bed. “Come on.”

Harry was literally clinging to Draco’s arm. “But where did he go?” he asked quietly, looking at all the dark corners the man could be hiding in. “Draco,” he said, feeling more and more helpless. He’d just thrown the man across the room, but here he was terrified of him.

“Calm down, we’ll get the others and we’ll be fine,” he said, feeling more and more frightened as well. And knowing he was going to have to be the strong one. They wouldn’t get downstairs unless someone took the lead, and that someone was going to have to be him. He now understood Harry’s terror. He’d do whatever it took to protect the smaller boy.

A sudden noise from behind them had Draco spinning around and ripped a scream from Harry’s throat. The upside to it all…they weren’t in the sound proof room any longer.

“Harry!”

Draco couldn’t have been happier to hear Ron Weasley’s voice as he was at that moment. Vernon Dursley was standing directly in front of them now, but help was storming up the stairs. Draco shoved Harry behind his body protectively as the man advanced on them. He couldn’t find his wand and realized he must have lost it somewhere between the Dursley incident and escaping the room. It was no longer in his pocket. “Harry, I don’t have my wand,” he whispered harshly to his friend. He wasn’t mad at Harry, he was angry with himself for dropping the damn thing.

Harry was momentarily confused by what he was supposed to do about the fact that Draco didn’t have his wand, when he realized he still had his in his on him. Searching blindly for it, he pulled it out of his sleeve and handed it to the older teen. He was now pressed securely up against Draco’s back, completely and utterly terrified. Then he felt a hand on his back and nearly screamed again.

“Harry, we’re here,” said Ron, suddenly behind Harry. Harry glanced back and saw a wall of friends standing protectively behind him, wands pulled and pointing ruthlessly at the man in front of them. Harry let out a sigh of relief. It was as if the wave of terror that had consumed him just moments ago left him. He held out his hand and summoned Draco’s own wand and watched as it came flying through the air to land in his hand. He and Draco traded and soon had their own wands securely in hand.

“Get back in the damn room,” hissed Fred, his wand whipping from the room to Dursley and back again. “Move it!” he yelled, his voice as harsh as Harry had ever heard it before.

Vernon was just staring at them, and his eyes kept moving back to Harry with a look within that made everyone shudder. Harry couldn’t stand the look he was receiving, and when the man still wouldn’t move back into his room, he once more raised his hand. “Get in there or I’ll make you go in there,” he said threateningly.

Dursley laughed as if that was the most pathetic thing he’d ever heard. “I’d like to see you try, you little shit!” he yelled and made to attack him.

Harry waved his arm and the man was suddenly flying into the room. The door slammed shut and the harsh grating of metal on metal sounded as the door was firmly locked. “I don’t have to,” muttered Harry shakily.

Draco turned around as Harry was still standing slightly behind him and pulled the teen into his arms once more. “Are you all right?” he asked, clearly shaken as well.

“What the hell was he doing here?” asked Fred, having suddenly figured out that the thing on the third floor, as they’d also been warned to steer clear, had been Vernon Dursley. “Are they insane?” he wondered aloud. “They left that monster with us alone?” he asked.

Jensen was standing there too, looking a little out of sorts but pissed off as well. He understood that the man Harry had just sent flying into the bedroom was the boy’s Uncle. He knew enough about the boy’s past to absolutely hate the man. He had been shocked to see the amount of power that small, little thing had within him. He had always been a very laid back person, but good lord. That was amazing. “Are you two okay?” he asked, coming up behind the teens that were surrounding the two others.

Harry just shook his head and looked up into Draco’s face again. “Are you okay? Really?” he asked, his concern now almost overwhelming.

“I’m fine,” he said, his voice belying the brave tone he was trying to put into it. “Someone should go get Severus,” he muttered, knowing he wouldn’t feel safe again until their father was with them. He finally released Harry from his protective embrace and stood with his hand just lying lightly on his shoulder.

“Draco?” asked Fred, looking at him concernedly. “Are you all right? You’re awfully pale,” he said.

Draco just shook his head. “I’m fine.”

Ron came up then and placed his own hand on the blonde’s shoulder. “Look, I know this is extremely weird timing, but I just wanted to apologize for earlier. I never meant a word I said, ok?” he said slowly, the regret he felt showing clearly in his eyes.

Draco nodded. “I know, Ron. Thanks for apologizing, though,” he said, knowing now that Harry really must care for him to completely face his most horrifying nightmare just to save him.

“I’ll go get Snape,” said George, having stayed silent throughout.

Harry nodded. “Thanks, George,” he said, feeling the same as Draco. He wasn’t going to feel safe until his father was home. “Let’s go downstairs. I don’t think I can stand it up here a moment longer,” he said, and they all quickly agreed and descended the stairs to the comfort of the dining room.

………………………………….

George tumbled out of the fireplace and rushed into the foyer. He wasn’t sure where they would be, he’d assumed outside, but considering it was so late at night, he didn’t know where they’d be. He assumed they must be putting up the internal wards at this point in the entire thing and just started yelling.

“Mum!” he screamed. “Dad!” He yelled as loudly as he possibly could, just wanting them to get there. He was worried about leaving the others back at Headquarters.

“George!” he heard his mother’s voice and heard as everyone came running in from one direction or the other. “What is it? What’s wrong?” she asked, taking in his pale face and frazzled appearance.

He waited until everyone was in the room, also so he could catch his breath, before he said anything. He looked directly at Professor Snape. “He got out,” he said quickly and watched as the blood drained from the man’s face.

“Is everyone okay?” he asked, already moving towards his study. He had to get home to his children.

“I…I think so,” he said, unsure. “When we got upstairs, Draco had him at wand point,” he informed them all. He noticed everyone looked upset and worried. “You all knew he was in the house?” he finally asked.

“Yes,” said his mother furiously.

“And you let them stay there?” asked George, clearly upset at this news.

Severus sighed. “The door was warded ten ways to Sunday. He shouldn’t have been able to get out,” he said, guilt gnawing at him.

“Well, he did!”

Severus tried hard not to growl, he really did. “Is Harry all right?” he asked.

“As far as I know, he is. Draco had him behind him all protective-like when we got there. We just don’t know all the details,” said George.

And then they were all flooing. Severus stepped out of the fireplace and immediately heard voices coming from the dining room. The doors flung open as he approached, his anxiety at its peak, and walked through the doors. Harry and Draco were sitting on the couch with Fred and Jensen standing protectively around them.

“Harry? Draco?” he asked as soon as he was able to get his voice. They both looked so pale. He had them both in his arms and held tightly to his chest. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you?” he asked, trying to pull them away, but Harry seemed to have a deep grip on his shirt. “Did he hurt you?” he repeated, concerned to his core.

Harry shook his head. He glanced at Draco, waiting for him to say what had happened to him, but he didn’t say anything. Harry sighed. He didn’t think Draco was dealing with any of this. “Dad,” he started, but he was instantly elbowed in the side for his efforts. “We’re fine,” he finally muttered, willing to let Draco make up his own mind about when to tell Severus.

“You’re sure?” he asked, concern and guilt still eating him alive. “I’m so sorry I left you here alone with him. Merlin, I knew something would happen the second we left you alone. How the hell did he get passed the wards?” he asked, his anger starting to show in his voice.

Draco cringed and looked up at his father’s face. He noticed the anger there and didn’t know how he was going to tell the man what he’d done. But Severus saw the look on his face and his angry gaze feel on his godson. “Draco?” he asked, clearly trying to keep his anger in check.

“I was upset…” he muttered, not sure how to explain what made him open the damn door. Severus shook his shoulders and Draco cringed again.

“We told you not to open that door!” he yelled, exasperated at the boy for basically not thinking or listening to what he had been told.

Draco roughly pulled himself out of Severus’ grasp on his shoulders, reminded painfully of just a few moments before when Vernon Dursley had shook him, yet more violently. “I’m sorry!” he yelled, tears brimming in his eyes. He was appalled that he was even tearing up! This was ridiculous. The man didn’t even do anything to him, so why was he suddenly so damn emotional?

“Do you know how much danger you put yourself and Harry in? Do you know what he would have done to him?” he asked, still incensed at Draco’s supposed thoughtlessness.

Draco’s face went suddenly hard. “Yes, I know,” he whispered and turned and walked stiffly out of the room.

“Draco! You get back here right now. We’re not done talking about this!” yelled Severus.

Harry was angry. He’d been unable to say anything before, because he knew Draco didn’t want him to. But now he didn’t think he could just stand by and let his father punish Draco. He’d more than paid for what he’d done, in Harry’s opinion.

“Leave him alone!” he said hotly, and Severus stopped suddenly to look at his smaller son.

Severus turned to his son, looking worried again. “Harry, I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have yelled at him like that. But, that was completely reckless on Draco’s part. He knew to stay away from the third floor, let alone the actual bedroom,” he said, trying to make his son understand. “I know he protected you, and I’m grateful for that, but he’s still going to get in trouble for opening the door in the first place.”

Harry looked up with sad eyes. “And who protected Draco?” he asked, making the entire room go quiet.

“What?” asked Severus, taking in the distraught eyes looking into his own.

Harry’s voice was cold and hard as he spoke. “Draco opened the door. He was alone with my Uncle, Dad,” he said, a tear silently rolling down his cheek. “Believe me, he’s more than paid for opening a door to a threat he didn’t even realize was in it!”

The entire room was looking at Harry with dawning horror. “Stop yelling at him and try to figure out a way to help him get through what just happened to him!” screamed Harry. He spun around to run after Draco before stopping and turning back to his father. “And get that monster out of this house!”

And then he was gone up the stairs, leaving the rest of the room standing in stunned disbelief. Severus raised a hand to his face and sat down heavily in the nearest chair. “What have I done?”

“Does…does that mean what I think it means?” asked Ron, taking in the emotional scene that had just transpired in front of everyone. He wasn’t sure he completely understood what Harry had just said about Dursley and Draco. But, if what he thought happened had actually happened…holy hell.

Severus looked up but remained silent. “I’m a horrible father,” he muttered and finally stood up from the wooden chair he’d found himself in.

“You are no such thing,” Molly was quick to defend the man, even though she herself had fought against Vernon Dursley even staying in headquarters. Leaving the children alone in the same house with Harry’s Uncle was something she’d fought even harder. But, she hadn’t been heard in quite the way she wanted to be and the man stayed in the house just the same. Severus had had no choice in the matter. It had been Dumbledore’s decision down to the last word. That didn’t make Severus a bad father. Just a father who seemed to have sons with the worst luck when it came to this certain ‘person.’ Molly thought Dursley was the worst type of person ever created by God.

“I shouldn’t have left them here,” he continued to insist, degrading himself being the only thing he could seem to do at the moment.

“You’re right, though. We shouldn’t have left the children here, but we all made that decision, Severus. Not just you alone. Stop blaming yourself, man,” said Arthur, placing a steadying hand on the man’s shoulder. “Your children need you now.”

Snape nodded and went for the door leading to his two children. He shouldn’t be down here moping while the boy’s suffered in silence. He needed to be there for them. Merlin, he needed to apologize to Draco for being so thickheaded as to not notice something was wrong with him as soon as he’d laid eyes on him. It had never occurred to him that he’d go after Draco. He’d only thought of Harry.

“We have to find somewhere else to house that bastard until the wards are back up,” he suddenly said, stopping in the doorway. “I don’t care if Azkaban can’t take him because he’s a bloody Muggle, get him out of this house,” he said emphatically, and Sirius was more than happy to oblige.

“It’s taken care of, Severus. Don’t worry about that, I’ll talk to Dumbledore and make sure he knows what happened,” he said sadly, thinking of his godson and the blonde teen that he had started to grow fond of as well. He hated thinking about what Dursley had now inflicted on both boys.

Severus thanked the man and finally began the journey upstairs, thinking all the while that he’d wished Albus and Minerva hadn’t had to cancel at the last minute for school business. Then he’d be here and know precisely how much his idea had not worked. He couldn’t stay mad at the man though; he’d really had no choice but to keep him here. Until they found a suitable place to jail him that wouldn’t reveal too much of the case behind it all, mainly Harry’s sexual and physical abuse, there’d been no other recourse but to keep Dursley at Grimmauld Place. There had been no other way, but oh, how he regretted it.

The door to Harry’s bedroom was shut but Severus could hear the boys’ voices coming from within the room. He gently rapped his knuckles against the wood and waited to be allowed in. Or to be shut out completely.

It was a little surprising when the door opened and Harry merely smiled weakly at him. But he was let in. Taking in his surroundings, Severus quickly spotted Draco sitting in the middle of Harry’s bed, his arms wrapped around his knees as tightly as he could stand it. Severus didn’t want to acknowledge the way he looked, how shattered he appeared at the moment. It wasn’t permanent, he had to tell himself, and he’d be just fine. Harry went and sat back down beside the older teen and shrugged his shoulders at his father, his posture saying ‘I don’t know what to do.’ Severus had to admit he was at a loss himself. How could someone screw up so much in just one day? He’d managed it quite nicely, he thought. He wasn’t sure how to make this one better, especially considering he thought himself part of the problem. He’d yelled at the blonde, had shaken him even, just after he’d been so horribly abused. How hadn’t he seen it on his face? He was a horrible father.

Taking Harry’s lead, Severus made himself comfortable on the other side of Draco and started to place a comforting hand on his son’s shoulder before he thought better of it. Perhaps he should apologize first. “Draco,” he started, and the older teen looked up at him. Severus’ voice got stuck in his throat as he noticed the black eye for the first time. “That man,” he spat in outrage, “is going to regret ever hurting my sons.”

Harry and Draco both doubted those words had been for their ears, but they’d heard them nonetheless. Severus was taking Draco’s face in his hands and moving it this way and that, looking for more damage, they supposed. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asked, his voice now gentle and caring, his earlier rage now gone as he dealt with his children.

“No,” said Draco, one hand absentmindedly pulling at his jeans as he sat on the bed. “I’m fine,” he added at Severus’ disbelieving look.

Severus glanced at Harry as the younger boy patted Draco’s hand in a soothing manner. “Can you tell me what happened?” he asked. He knew as much as George had been able to tell him while at the Manor, but he didn’t know what had happened in the bedroom between Draco and Vernon Dursley, or how Harry had ended up in the same room with them.

Draco seemed hesitant to say anything and continued messing with his jeans as his godfather and Harry watched him. He was still feeling a bit embarrassed at having fled when Ron had told him Harry basically didn’t care about him and only put up with him because he was Severus’ godson. He realized later in the evening how wrong he had been, that Harry did consider him a brother. Harry had faced his fears for him, for crying out loud. But, he still didn’t like admitting to the fact that he’d believed the redhead at first. And that was the whole reason he’d gone upstairs in the first place, to get away from everyone else.

“Draco?” Severus’ tone was light, but frightened, probably thinking Draco was trying to hide something. Even Harry was starting to look nervous.

That gave Draco the courage to start talking, even if he was ashamed of his actions. He told them what had started it all, with practically forcing Harry to go to bed and then Ron’s reaction later to his slipped words about Harry being his ‘brother.’

Severus looked a bit irate at the news, and Harry was as well. “I can’t believe he said that to you,” started Harry, standing up as if to go downstairs.

“Where are you going?” asked the blonde.

“To give my ‘friend’ a piece of my mind!” he said heatedly, but Draco grabbed his arm and forced him back on the bed.

“You don’t have to, he’s already apologized, said he didn’t mean a word he’d said.”

Harry relaxed back on the bed. “When’d he do that?”

“After the entire scene in the hallway with Dursley and all, he apologized to me. I could tell by his eyes that he really did feel bad about saying it. I’ve already forgiven him, so there’s no need to go yell at him,” insisted Draco, plucking at the comforter now as he realized they were about to get closer to the heart of things.

“Oh,” was all Harry said.

“What happened after you left the room?” asked Severus, trying to tactfully get Draco to start talking again.

Draco paused and took in a deep breath. “I went upstairs and somehow ended up on the third floor. I don’t know why I did it, I just wanted to open the stupid door. I realized as soon as I did that I shouldn’t have even been up there. Harry’s Uncle was inside, and I was so scared he was going to get out and get down to Harry,” he muttered, and felt Harry and Severus’ hands on his shoulders for support. “But, he must have been mental or something, because he thought I was Harry.”

Harry still felt awful about that and Draco seemed to sense the younger teen’s sudden tenseness. “It’s all right, Harry. It wasn’t your fault your Uncle was completely deranged,” he said. “I was just thankful you weren’t up there for him to hurt.”

Harry let out an exasperated breath. “But he was hurting you!” he yelled.

“Better me than you! I never wanted you to have to go through that again. You were so hurt and scared when we finally found you, and you still have trouble letting people touch you. I knew if he got his hands on you again there was a chance we’d lose you for good!” said Draco, his voice thick with emotion.

“It shouldn’t have happened to either of you,” Severus broke into their argument, wondering at the both of them and their skewed logic. “Neither of you should have experienced something quite so heinous as what that man was trying to do to you, Draco, and what he’d already did to Harry. Now, that’s enough of that,” he told the boys, emphasizing their odd need to protect each other and arguing over it.

Draco sighed and just started talking again, starting with when he saw Harry outside of the door. “That was when I stupidly thought you were going to leave me there,” said the blonde, a blush starting on his cheeks. “I’m sorry I ever doubted you, Harry.”

“I’m just sorry I started to back away. I never even saw you at first, honestly. I just heard his voice talking the way he used to at me when he was about to…you know…” he trailed off, unable to put a name to what that monster used to do to him.

Unfortunately, they both knew precisely what Harry was referring to. And now Draco had personal experience with it as well.

Harry just wanted this all to be over with, and by the looks of it, so did Draco. His eyes met Draco’s and as they looked at each other, Harry was given permission to tell what he’d seen as he’d stood in the doorway earlier in the night. “I came back when I saw Draco underneath my Uncle. I saw what he was doing to him…touching him,” he and Draco both shuddered at the same moment. “I don’t know what happened, but it was as if I wasn’t scared anymore and I just…threw him across the room. We both thought he was knocked out, but he wasn’t. He came after us again in the hallway, but by that point we were out of the silencing wards on the room and Ron heard me scream,” said Harry, hoping that was enough for their father.

Severus nodded and placed his hand on his chest as if it was hurting him somehow. “You’ll never have to worry about that monster again, boys. He’s gone now. We were just keeping him here because there was nowhere else we could keep him without exposing too much of the circumstances behind his incarceration. I’m so sorry he was able to hurt you both.”

“It’s my fault he was able to in the first place,” said Draco. “If I’d just stayed away and left the door unlocked like I was told, none of this would have happened.”

“What’s done is done. No need to throw blame, it happened and there’s nothing we can do to change that. There are a lot of things I wish I could change about the entire experience, but I can’t and neither can you. All we can do is move forward,” said Severus, hoping to keep them from blaming themselves for something that honestly couldn’t be helped at all. It was a chain of events that had turned badly from the get-go.

Glancing at his godson, Severus ran a hand over the older teen’s blonde hair and was grateful when he didn’t turn away from the touch as Harry had just after he had been attacked by his Uncle. He hoped Draco wouldn’t be as traumatized by this experience as the younger boy had been. There was a difference, he knew, because Harry had been abused for years and never even knew it. It was more understandable that Harry would be more troubled by the entire thing than Draco would. But, he knew the blonde Slytherin wouldn’t be unaffected by tonight’s events.

“I think it’s time for you two to get some sleep,” he suggested after a moment of silence. “I know you’re both tired, and it is still the middle of the night,” he told them.

Harry nodded his head and climbed off of Draco’s bed to climb into his own. He watched as his father gently tucked Draco into bed and whispered something in his ear before the man got up and came to Harry’s. He repeated the same actions as he had with the other teen and tucked Harry into bed as well. He couldn’t bring himself to mind being treated like a child at the moment. It was just nice to have his father here in the same house with him. To keep him safe, and Draco safe as well. He was willing to put up with the man’s overprotective tendencies and need to make up for the mistake he knew he had made tonight. He’d long forgiven his father, but he knew Severus would be a long time in forgiving himself.

“I love you,” whispered Severus into the raven-haired teen’s ear.

Harry looked up at him, somehow surprised by the words. He instinctively raised his arms, an open invitation for a hug, and Severus was quick to pull the boy into his arms. “I love you, too,” whispered Harry.

Severus bid the two good night and gently closed the door behind him.

…………………………………

An hour later, Draco was tossing and turning in his bed, thrashing wildly before he wrenched himself from sleep and sat up straight, eyes wide. He took in a great shuddering gasp of air, looking either way in the room to make sure he was truly alone. There was no one holding him down, trying to hurt him. His hand on his chest now, he was finally able to calm his racing heart and fall back into his pillows. “Merlin,” he muttered, still taking in calming breaths to ease the panic he had momentarily been in.

A strangled cry from beside him had him realizing he wasn’t exactly alone; Harry was still in the room with him. “Harry?” he asked, thinking he’d woken him up with his nightmare. “Are you awake?” he asked, but all he got from Harry was another hoarse whimper. “Oh, shite,” he whispered, getting out of bed and going to his brother. “Harry? Come on and wake up! It’s just a dream!” he called insistently, but Harry wasn’t as easy to wake up as he himself had been.

“No, don’t,” whimpered Harry and Draco climbed on top of the smaller boy’s bed, attempting to shake him into awareness. “Come on, Potter! Wake up!” he called, pushing the boy’s shoulder slightly, knowing he could possibly frighten him even more with his actions and trying his hardest not to do so.

Harry woke up with a gasp, his entire frame shaking as if he were freezing, but Draco knew it wasn’t the cold that was causing Harry to shiver as he was. “Harry, are you with me?” asked Draco.

The raven-haired teen nodded his head. “I’m sorry if I woke you,” he said sadly. Draco was pretty sure he could see moisture building in the boy’s eyes but didn’t mention anything about it.

“You didn’t wake me. I was already awake,” he started to explain. “Had a nightmare of my own, actually.”

If anything, this news caused Harry to shiver even harder as a tear broke free and slid down his cheek. “Oh, Draco. I’m so sorry!” he said, his voice telling the blonde that Harry was just a moment away from breaking down completely. “This is all my fault.”

“What?” Draco tried not to let his jaw drop. “What the hell makes you think any of this is your fault?” he asked, his voice sterner than he’d thought it would be. As Harry flinched, Draco sat down completely on the smaller teen’s bed and sighed deeply. “You did nothing wrong, Harry. Absolutely nothing. Anything that went wrong was completely my own fault. None of it was yours. If anything, I should be the one apologizing. I was the idiot who opened the damn door. I’m the one who opened Pandora’s box.”

“Well, that’s a little extreme,” said Harry, sniffing slightly. “And I know you didn’t do it on purpose or anything. But, he’s my Uncle. I’m the reason he hates this world so much. I’m the reason he tried to attack you. It’s all my fault, don’t you see?” he asked, his voice taught with tension. “I caused my Uncle to be like this!”

Draco’s look of incredulity made Harry’s tirade of self-loathing come to a screeching halt. “That’s a complete load of shite and you know it. You did nothing to cause your Uncle to become the person he became. He did that all on his own. You’re a wonderful person Harry. I don’t care what that man said to you or what he did to you. You’re a great person, someone I’m glad to call a friend. You didn’t make him the way he is, Harry. He did. If he couldn’t see what a great kid you are, then he didn’t deserve to have you as family. And you deserved so much better than you got, Harry,” said Draco emphatically.

Harry nodded. “We both deserved better than what we got.”

A smile lit the blonde’s face. “Well, we got it, didn’t we? You, Severus and me. We’re all a family now, the way I see it.”

Harry smiled shyly in return. “Yes, I think we are. We got the better end of the deal, now that I think about it.”

“Yes, we did. We got a wonderful father who loves us unconditionally. Obviously. I’m not so sure anyone else would put up with all the baggage we happened to bring with us. But, Severus does. I think it actually makes him care more about us. I feel more for him than I ever did for my own father, that’s for certain.”

Harry grinned. “I feel an extremely cheesy moment coming on here,” he said jokingly, lightly punching Draco in the shoulder.

Draco scoffed. “Me? Cheesy? I think not, Potter,” he said, doing as Harry had done and punched the smaller boy in the shoulder playfully.

“Well, what am I supposed to think?” he asked, his smile now spreading to his eyes. He was feeling more light-hearted than he had in quite a while. It was a rather pleasant feeling. “It sounded pretty emotional to me,” he said, still grinning ear to ear.

“I can get emotional!” said Draco, indignant, but smiling just as Harry was.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t!” exclaimed Harry, settling back on his bed as Draco made to tackle him. He was surprised he didn’t flinch straight away at the movement. He was proud to realize that he didn’t, in fact. He ended up with a pillow swung into his face, and Harry was quick to retaliate. The pillow fight lasted for a good ten minutes before Severus came knocking on the door, a frown on his face.

“Could we not wake the dead, gentlemen?” he asked, his hair disheveled and a night robe draping his muscular frame let them know he’d indeed been sleeping.

“Sorry, Dad,” said Harry quickly, pushing Draco and his pillow off his bed and onto the floor. “We were just going back to bed. Really,” he added at his father’s disbelieving look.

“Go to bed, boys,” he said sternly, but there was a light in his eyes that let them know they weren’t really in trouble. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yes, sir,” both said immediately and climbed into their respective beds before the lights were turned off and Severus closed the door behind him.

In the dark, even though he’d been perfectly fine just moments before, Harry started to feel alone and semi-frightened. He didn’t know what his problem was, but he had felt fine until Draco had gone to his own bed. He looked over and saw that Draco was lying on his side, his eyes closed. He was probably already drifting back to sleep, thought Harry. It would be mean to disrupt him now.

The smaller of the two teens tossed on his bed, trying to find a comfortable position, but he couldn’t seem to find one. He considered getting up and turning on the lights, but thought better of it. Draco would only wake up and ask questions. He turned back onto his side, facing away from his brother, and closed his eyes. Instantly, he saw the face of his Uncle, and his eyes snapped back open. “This is pathetic,” he muttered to himself, turning onto his back again. He let out a startled yell when he saw a silhouette standing over him.

“It’s just me!” said Draco, turning on the bedside lamp and sitting down beside Harry. “Are you all right?” he asked, his voice deep with concern. “What’s wrong?”

Harry sighed and sat up in bed. “I can’t get back to sleep,” he admitted. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

Draco groaned. “No, you did not wake me. I was still awake, waiting for you to calm down before I let myself go to sleep,” he explained quietly.

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t even start with the ‘I’m sorry’ nonsense, Harry!” said Draco emphatically. “If you can’t sleep, don’t sit here and let it get the best of you. Wake me up!” he insisted, before making the smaller boy shove over.

“What are you doing?” asked Harry; clearly stunned the boy was getting into bed with him.

No one else may have noticed, but Draco had woken up enough times in the middle of the night to have taken stock of the fact that Harry slept a hell of a lot better when someone slept with him. He’d woken up on several occasions to see that Zane had gotten into bed with Harry during the night, and Harry slept without nightmares on those occasions. He knew what had to be done, and he was willing to do it if Harry could get to sleep without having to deal with the horrors of his dreams. His memories.

“I’m staying with you. Move over!” he said insistently once more.

Harry was more than relieved that Draco was willing to stay with him, but he couldn’t put him out like that. “You don’t have to, Draco,” he said quietly. “I’ll be fine.”

The blonde sighed and continued to studiously ignore the boy’s protests. “You and I both know you’ll sleep better if someone stays with you. Now, just deal with the fact that I’m going to be that person and that I am your big brother now. It’s like…my job to take care of you.”

Harry shook his head. “You don’t have to feel obligated to stay, Dray,” he started, but the blonde was quick to cut him off.

“This isn’t an obligation, Harry. I care about you. I want to help you. I know you’d do the same for me and nothing you say right now will convince me to move my rear end out of your bed. So, shove over and stop complaining, okay? I want to stay with you!” Draco waited until Harry finally moved and gave him enough room the lie down. “This is what brothers are for,” he said quietly, making sure Harry was tucked in and secure before he settled his head on his own pillow he’d taken from his bed. Luckily, their beds were large enough for both of them to fit without completely invading each other’s personal space, but close enough to make Harry feel safe.

He was just beginning to think Harry had drifted off when he heard it. It was very small and slightly muffled, but Draco understood.

“Thank you.”

Draco softly smiled and gently ruffled the other boy’s hair. “You’re welcome.”

……………………………………………….

Snape Manor was re-warded the next morning, bright and early. Severus didn’t want his children in Grimmauld Place any longer than was absolutely necessary. They were already traumatized enough as it was, he didn’t want them having to stay in the same house where they’d been so viciously attacked just the previous evening.

He’d been a little astonished when he had gone to wake the boys that morning to find them both in Harry’s bed. He’d realized right away that Harry hadn’t been able to get to sleep on his own. Which meant he’d probably had a nightmare. Draco hadn’t been the only one to wake up in the middle of the night to find Zane in bed with Harry when he’d gone to check on his sons. He’d wanted to put a stop to it at first. It just didn’t seem sanitary to have a big slobbering dog sleeping in the same bed with the boy, but once he noticed Harry slept better on those nights, he didn’t push the matter. He wondered if Harry even knew the mutt was there. He seriously doubted it.

But, whatever helped his son, he was willing to do. And now it seemed, whatever helped one child helped the other.

Any other thoughts he was having regarding his children was swept away as Sirius entered the kitchen and sat down at the table across from him. Severus conjured another glass and motioned for the tea service in front of him. “Help yourself,” he said.

Sirius was more than happy to oblige him and poured his glass full on steaming tea. He seemed to be in desperate need of a pick me up. “Caffeine is such a wonderful thing,” he said, sipping from the cup slowly.

“How were things at the Ministry?” asked Severus.

Sirius shrugged his broad shoulders. “They went.”

Sighing, Severus resisted the urge to kick the man. “What happened with Dursley?” he asked, the name of his son’s Uncle spat with utmost hatred. He hoped the man would just find a hole and rot in it, but the odds of that happening were slim. Non-existent, actually.

“They agreed to take him and hold him in a private prison. No one will hear about what he did to Harry or Draco. And he’ll be locked up for a very long time, Severus, without any chance of parole,” he said, feeling more than smug at the fact that Dursley would no longer have the chance to hurt the boys currently sleeping upstairs. “I asked that he be put in a maximum security area of the prison. And believe me, no one likes child abusers…he’ll have a wonderful time in his new home,” he said sarcastically.

Severus grinned evilly. “Splendid.”

………………………………

Epilogue:

School was set to begin the next day and Harry was busy trying to shove all of his belongings into his trunk. He had a tendency of waiting until the last minute, something that irritated his father to no end. Severus had bought him a new one the week previous, one that had an endless amount of space in it. It was something that was coming in extremely helpful at the moment since he didn’t know where he would have shoved everything. It was almost a shock to realize how many items of clothing he now owned. They were his own, not hand-me-downs or anything shabby. It was wonderful.

Once finished, he shoved his trunk into the corner and out of his way before going downstairs to join his family for supper. Draco and Severus were both waiting in the kitchen when he arrived, looking equally impatient.

“I told you to do that last night,” said Draco, sounding just a bit too haughty for Harry’s tastes.

“Draco, when did you pack your belongings?” asked Severus suddenly, breaking into their conversation.

The blonde Slytherin waved his hand absentmindedly. “That’s not of any consequence,” he said, trying to ignore his father. “I’m packed.”

“So am I!” said Harry, sitting down at the table while grabbing a biscuit from the serving bowl.

“Yes, and you finished packing your trunk…when was it…oh yes, thirty minutes ago,” said Severus, grinning at both his children.

“You prat!” yelled Harry, throwing his biscuit at Draco. He sat shocked for a moment, uncomprehending that he’d just thrown food at his brother…in front of his father. “Sorry,” he said slowly. “I’ll just get that…” he muttered, and rose to grab the biscuit from Draco’s lap. He was worried he’d get into trouble, seeing as how food throwing was strictly against the rules.

He was shocked, therefore, when he was pelted in the face with the exact same biscuit he’d just launched at Draco. “Hey!” he yelled indignantly at Draco. He glanced nervously at his father, but the man was just smiling.

“Make a mess and you clean it up,” he said quietly. Draco immediately lowered the handful of broccoli and spinach salad he had picked up from his plate.

Harry grinned widely at his family. It was nice to act like a kid and not get into trouble for it…within reason that was.

………..

“Have you told Ron yet?” asked Draco, sitting nervously on his bed. They were leaving in just two hours to board the Hogwarts train. He couldn’t believe he was actually worried about what Ronald Weasley would think about it.

“Yes, I told him,” said Harry. Ron, Fred, and George had all looked pleased when they’d discovered.

Draco picked at the lint on his shirt as if it were the most interesting sight in the room. “And, what’d he say about it?”

Harry shrugged noncommittally. “Oh, I don’t know.”

“Harry!” yelled Draco, looking completely off center. “You can’t just not know! How’d he react! Come on!”

“Why don’t you just ask him yourself?” asked the emerald-eyed boy, twinkling with mischief.

Draco scowled angrily at the smaller teen and tossed his pillow at the boy’s face. “You know what happened the last time I even mentioned it! Now it’s for real. I don’t want him having a fit this time around. And, I won’t have him hurting your feelings,” he said softly.

Harry couldn’t help himself. He smiled at his brother’s protectiveness over him. “Dray, he was fine with it. He’s actually very happy that Severus decided to adopt you. You are my brother now, in all but blood, and he knows that. He still feels bad about what he said to you that day. In fact, he asked me to remind you that he never meant a word that he’d said,” the boy informed him. “He said he’d try to never get that pissed off at you again!”

Draco looked a little flabbergasted. “Really. How nice,” he said, sarcasm in his voice.

“He really is trying, Draco. Just give him a chance, okay? He’ll be a good and loyal friend if you just let him.”

“Right, fine. But if he does anything to hurt you, he’ll have me to deal with,” said Draco, his arms crossed definitely over his chest.

Harry grinned. “I’ll be sure to tell him that!”

“Great, that’ll start a fight as soon as we step foot on the train!”

A well-aimed shot from Harry’s pillow nailed Draco directly in the face. “You’re so dramatic.”

…………….

“Oh, I’m going to miss you two when you’re gone back to school,” said Deliverance, pulling both boys into a huge hug. “You two take care of each other and watch each other’s backs, understood?” she asked, her tone of voice strict, though Harry was for sure she was about to cry.

“ We will, Deliverance. Don’t worry about that,” insisted Harry, hugging the woman tighter around the middle.

She sniffled and nodded. “Oh, and don’t forget to take Zane with you. He’d be miserable without you, and I simply can’t deal with him when he misses you!” she said, and Harry nodded. Zane was standing at his feet, so it was highly unlikely he’d be able to forget him. He could stay with Hagrid again this year as he knew the half-giant loved Zane almost as much as he loved Fang.

She placed her hands on either boy’s shoulder and stared at them lovingly. She quickly kissed them both on the forehead before rushing from the room, tears brimming in her eyes.

Harry sighed. “Well, that went better than I thought it would, actually,” he said, smiling a bit as his father came out of the kitchen that Deliverance had just run into, a look of bewilderment on his face.

“I take it she said her goodbyes?” asked Severus, meeting his children in the middle of the foyer.

“Yes.”

“Aha. I should have guessed when she went straight for a chocolate bar and had tears rolling down her face. That woman can be so emotional,” he said. Severus was happy when Harry smiled again. It seemed ever since that night only less than a month ago that the boy had begun to smile less and less. Perhaps he’d just been imagining it, but he thought the boy was finally dealing with the horrible deal he’d been dealt. He felt like it had helped when Severus had told both the boys where Dursley was currently residing, and that he wouldn’t be seeing the light of day for a very long time. They’d both been relieved to hear the news, as both were afraid he’d be sent back to Grimmauld Place once they had left. Fortunately, they wouldn’t have to worry about a crazed man attacking them the next time they visited Headquarters.

“Do you have all your belongings?” asked Severus, taking in the trunks sitting beside the stairs.

“Yes, Dad,” they both said simultaneously, and Harry and Draco both broke into grins, laughing softly.

Severus smiled. He definitely liked the sound of that, and seeing the happiness reflected on both of his son’s faces reassured him they would be okay at Hogwarts. He’d been worrying about sending them off to school so soon after this last hardship, but his children’s resilience had surprised him once again. Things weren’t perfect, and Severus knew neither Harry nor Draco would ever truly forget what had happened to them, but he knew things were on the right track for once. He knew they were going to be okay, and so was he. They’d get through this together, as a family.

“Well, if you’re ready we should be going then. I’ll have to drop you off and then go directly to the school to be ready to meet my new first years,” he said offhandedly, shrinking Harry and Draco’s trunks and shoving them in his pocket. “Shall we go?”

“Yes, sir,” they said, and started for the door. They were going to drive to the train station, which was something Harry found extremely odd, that Severus Snape owned a vehicle. I suppose it would come in handy at some points, though.

Jensen was outside with Jupiter when they came out and Harry quickly rushed over to tell them both good bye. The dark haired man swept a leg over Jupe’s large body and landed gracefully on the ground when he saw the boy coming.

“Are you leaving?” he asked, shaking Harry’s hand when he approached.

“Yes. We’ll be back for Christmas Holiday, though,” he said, smiling. He went up to Jupiter then and wrapped his arms around the animal’s large, solid neck. “I’ll miss you, Jupe,” he said sadly. He really would, too, probably more than anything. He’d still been dropping by regularly to talk to the horse. It helped somehow, and Harry found himself wondering if there wasn’t something magical about this animal. He supposed he’d never know. “Thanks for helping me, Jupe,” he whispered, and he could have sworn the horse was trying to hug him back as Jupiter’s head came around his shoulder once more.

“Bye!” he called as he ran over to where Severus and Draco were waiting for him.

The ride to the train station was mostly silent, save for sporadic bursts from Draco and himself as they discussed the upcoming year at school and their plans for Quidditch. Harry eventually quieted down and stared out the window, watching as the scenery flew past. He smiled as he thought about his family; glad they would all be close by when they went back to Hogwarts. He knew he’d need them as he continued to deal with everything, and Draco would need them as well. But, Harry, like Severus, knew they were going to be okay. Everything would work out now. They were a family, and families could get through anything.