There was something heavy lying across his ribcage. Harry blearily opened his eyes and realised that he was lying on his side in his bed, halfway curled up in a ball, and that Severus was lying beside him, sound asleep, with one arm draped protectively across him. While Harry himself was in his plaid flannel pajamas, Severus was still in his black robes. Apparently he'd fallen asleep before he could return to his own room and change into sleepwear.

Harry smiled, closed his eyes, and nestled his face back into his pillow, just enjoying the sense of security, the feeling of being wanted and protected that had always been absent in his life before. He hovered in the comfortable state between dreaming and waking for a while, but gradually he became more alert.

Severus was still deep in sleep, though, which was unusual. Normally, the professor was the first one awake in the mornings. In fact, Harry didn't think he'd ever gotten up before Severus. What time was it, anyway? Very carefully, trying not to disturb his mentor, he slid out from under Severus' arm and sat up so he could reach for his glasses on the night table. Slipping them on, he looked at the small clock also resting on the table.

It was almost nine o'clock in the morning, so they'd both overslept a bit. They'd usually already eaten breakfast and started on lessons by now. But Severus was sleeping so soundly that Harry hated to wake him. Well, he could go ahead and get dressed, and maybe Severus would wake on his own.

Harry slipped out of bed and collected his clothes before heading on to his bathroom to dress. A short time later he came out, wearing his Hogwarts' uniform. Even though he no longer attended classes or went about the school, Severus thought it was appropriate for him to wear his uniform during lesson hours, and Harry didn't mind, really. He actually liked his Hogwarts' clothes. They were the first ones he'd ever had that had fit him properly, and more, they were a symbol of belonging at Hogwarts; a place where he didn't have to go about in Dudley's ill-fitting castoffs, where he was accepted and not starved or thrown into cupboards whenever people got tired of seeing him, where he had friends who truly cared about him. His first real home.

Severus hadn't woken up and Harry crept close, just to make sure that he was all right. But the professor seemed fine and Harry decided that if Severus was that tired, he would just let him rest. He retreated into the living room where he ordered breakfast for the two of them through the Floo. When the plates arrived a few minutes later, he carried them to the dining table, put a Warming Charm on Severus', and began eating his own.

Then he found his parchment and a quill and settled down on the sofa to work on the essay Severus had assigned him in Defense, on the effects and consequences of various disarming spells. Most of their Defense work was practical. They would clear a space in the middle of the room and practise dueling, but Severus had decided the other day, that Harry should thoroughly understand the theories behind the moves, too, so he'd assigned the essay.

Harry had to smile, thinking about their dueling sessions. They were one more example of how Severus cared for him. Long before he'd actually opposed Harry, Severus had had him work on casting defensive and offensive spells. Harry had always been good at Defense, but Severus had still had him spend hours practicing the movements over and over again, until Harry could run through them so quickly and effortlessly, it was almost instantaneous.

They'd worked a lot on nonverbal magic, too, especially in Defense, and Harry was now just as good at performing the spells silently as aloud. Only when Harry could throw up a Shield Charm in the blink of an eye and cast a spell back at him almost without having to think about it, had Severus begun actually dueling with him.

Once, during one of the interminable practise sessions, when Severus had had him repeatedly casting the Shield Charm as fast as he could, Harry had complained and had wanted to know when they could move on to something more exciting. Severus had paused and had given him a steady look.

"Harry," he'd said quietly. "You are exceptionally good at Defense, especially for a wizard your age, which is most fortunate or else you'd likely be dead by now. But for you to have your best chance of succeeding in what lies ahead, you have to become even better. You must be able to act and react instantly, and the only way to become that good is to practise."

Then he'd placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and said, almost a little awkwardly, "We will begin practising against one another soon, but not just yet. I want your timing to be perfect before I ever cast a spell against you. I think you've suffered enough in your short life, Harry, and I don't want to ever hurt you again, even if it's just a small sting from a harmless jinx."

Even now, Harry felt a warm glow at the memory. Severus' intense tutoring had worked, too. None of the professor's spells had ever gotten past Harry's defenses, and Severus didn't hold back either. Harry knew not to let himself grow overconfident...Severus had warned him about that, too, more than once...but he did feel a lot more capable and skilled than ever before.

Harry was smiling as he turned his attention back to his essay.

He'd written one full page and was halfway through the second when Severus finally emerged, from Harry's room, looking uncharacteristically rumpled.

"Why didn't you wake me, Harry?"

Harry looked up with a smile. "You were tired."

"I can't deny that." Severus ran a hand through his dark hair. "I didn't sleep very well."

Harry's smile faded. "I'm sorry, Severus. I shouldn't have asked you to stay with me. I guess I kept you awake."

But Severus shook his head. "It wasn't you, Harry. My dreams were...unpleasant, I'm afraid."

"You had nightmares?" Harry asked in concern. "I thought Occlumency helped with that."

"It often does," Severus agreed. "But as I told you, even Occlumency does not prevent nightmares all of the time. Last night was one of those times."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Harry offered.

"No, but thank you," Severus responded. He glanced down at himself. "I suppose I'd better freshen up for the day, and then order something to eat."

"Your plate's on the table," Harry gestured. "I put a Warming Spell on it."

"Thank you, again, then." Severus disappeared into his own room and came back out twenty minutes later, clean-shaven and dressed in a clean shirt, trousers, and robes.

Harry grinned at him. "How many black outfits do you own, Severus?"

"Many." Severus gave him a mock glare as he seated himself at the table and began to eat. "You object to my wardrobe?"

"No, but don't you ever want to wear something a bit more colorful?" Harry persisted.

"No."

Have you ever worn anything that wasn't black?"

"Aside from pajamas and underclothes, no, not that I can recall." Severus raised an eyebrow. "Why this sudden need to question my clothing choices, Harry?"

"Just trying to come up with some ideas for your Christmas present," Harry told him innocently. "I think I'll buy you some blue jeans and new shirts. You'd look good in scarlet and gold."

"And you would look good scrubbing cauldrons for the next six months," Severus retorted. He finished his breakfast and came over to sit beside Harry. "I suppose this is what I get for letting a Gryffindor into my life."

Harry knew he was teasing, but he still had to glance over and say quietly, "Do you really wish that I'd..."

"Harry, I was only joking." Severus placed his fingers beneath Harry's chin and turned his face so they were looking into one another's eyes. "You are the best thing that's ever happened to me, child. Don't you realize that?"

Harry stared into Severus' dark eyes, glimmering with emotion, and he couldn't help but think how much things had changed between them. It was hard to believe that he'd thought Severus cold and unfeeling for all those years. Of course, Severus had been completely different towards him, then.

But now, everything had changed. Harry suddenly remembered a conversation he'd had with Ron and Hermione back in the summer. They'd been talking about Umbridge and how the Weasley parents would have reacted if she'd harmed any of their children. Harry had wished then that he could have someone like a parent, someone of his own who cared for him and protected him.

As he stared into Severus' eyes, Harry knew he'd finally found that person