Severus stepped out of the fireplace of the upstairs sitting room, guiding Harry along with him. Norie and Zan were waiting eagerly and as soon as the boy was out of the grate they were swarming all over him, offering sympathy and wanting to know how he felt. Norie kept asking Harry if he'd had all the doses of his potions, and if he wanted anything to eat or drink, while Zan suggested several times that he might want to lie down and rest for a while before dinner, and if Harry was very tired they could bring a tray to his bed.

Severus shook his head slightly at them, but stayed quiet. He was persona non grata with the elves right now and anyway, he did understand that they had been very worried and upset over Harry's injury. He himself had been concerned, was still concerned actually, and though he wasn't the sort to fuss over anyone, he could understand that Norie and Zan needed to.

Harry reassured them that he was fine now, but he seemed very quiet and dispirited. Norie and Zan didn't look convinced, and Severus felt his own concern grow. Perhaps if they gave him a little time to settle back in ...

"If you're ready, Harry, I'll see you to your rooms," he said and led the way across the hall. When he'd firecalled the elves earlier, he'd asked them to move Harry from the small distant room he'd put the boy in to the suite across the hall from his own. It was a much nicer set of rooms and it would be easier to keep an eye on Harry if he were close by.

Harry risked a quick glance at him at the word ‘rooms', but he didn't question it, following Severus in silence. At the doorway to his new quarters though, he paused and looked around uncertainly.

They were standing in a spacious sitting room, with a small sofa and a couple of armchairs set before a wide fireplace with a carved stone mantel. The sofa and chairs were light beige, with brown and sage-green throw pillows, and a warm fleecy ivory and gold patterned blanket was neatly folded across the back of the sofa.

It was a corner room, and two broad windows overlooking the gardens and the moor bathed it in gentle sunlight. Window seats with brown and sage-green pillows were built into the thick walls, and a faded brown and gold patterned rug covered much of the stone floor. A generous-sized bookcase and a desk, made of gleaming mahogany wood, were set by the walls, and a small table rested between the sofa and chairs.

A wide arched doorway led to the bedroom, where a huge four-poster bed was covered with a soft beige comforter and brown and sage-green pillows. There was a night table on the right side of the bed, and a large wardrobe stood against the inside wall. Another tall window took up much of the space on the opposite wall, and a small corner door led to a bath. Harry's trunk was set at the foot of the bed and the snowy owl slumbered in her cage on the desk.

Severus surreptitiously studied the boy, trying to gauge his reaction to the rooms, but he couldn't tell how Harry felt. He cleared his throat. "Madame Pomfrey said you would need to continue taking potions for seven days, and for you to rest and not exert yourself during that time. I thought it might be wise to move you a bit closer to my own rooms while you are recuperating."

He hesitated. He'd planned on it being a permanent move, but it dawned on him that possibly Harry might resent these decisions being made for him. "If you wish, these rooms will be yours from now on. I probably should have given them to you to start with. But if you prefer your old room, then you may move back to it next week. It's your decision."

Harry hesitated, too, but then gave a small nod and said quietly, "They're very nice rooms. Thank you, sir."

Severus wondered if that meant Harry wanted to stay here or if he would move back up to the little room on the third floor once he was completely well, but he wasn't about to ask. He already felt uncomfortable enough.

"Dinner will be ready soon." He eyed Harry, realising that the boy was still in his pyjamas and that he looked tired. "As Zan mentioned, if you do not feel like coming downstairs, then you may have a tray brought up here."

Harry nodded immediately. "Yes, thank you."

"Well, then, I suppose you should rest. I'll bring your potion up with your dinner." Severus left, feeling that odd mix of emotions that had plagued him ever since he'd accepted that he might have misjudged Harry Potter...mingled relief at escaping the awkwardness but also a strange reluctance to leave, a desire to get to know the boy better, and a little twinge that was not disappointment over Harry's choosing to eat dinner in his room.

Norie and Zan were hovering in the hallway, no doubt to ensure that he wasn't going to abuse their precious Harry. Norie glared and Zan gave him that reproachful look again.

Severus sighed as he brushed past them to go back to his own fireplace and Flooed down to his laboratory. It was not a good place to escape his guilt, but he needed to bottle some of the tissue restoration potion and make sure he had all the ingredients to brew some Pepper-Up and Fever Reducing potions. Poppy had warned him that Harry would be vulnerable to colds and such. Severus wanted to be ready to give the boy whatever he might need.

***

Norie and Zan came in as soon as Snape had left.

"Master Harry, dear, is you sure you's feeling all right?" Norie gazed at him anxiously.

Harry tried to smile to reassure her. "Yes, Norie, thank you. I feel much better now. I'm just a little tired."

"We will let you rest then, but you is to call us if you needs anything," Zan instructed.

This time the smile came a little easier. "I will, thanks," Harry told them.

The elves departed, both looking reluctant to leave him, and Harry felt a small glow of warmth. It was nice to know they cared.

He looked around his rooms again, not sure what to think of them. They were beautiful rooms, nicer than the one he'd been staying in. They were even nicer than the Gryffindor dorms, and definitely better than anything he'd ever had at the Dursleys. It was funny, because he'd known from the time he was eleven that he'd inherited all the Potter wealth, but Harry had never imagined himself living in a place like Prince Hall, in rooms that were simultaneously grand and comfortable-looking.

But these rooms brought him closer than ever to Snape. The professor's rooms were just across the hall. He didn't want Snape lurking around, waiting to pounce on him for any little mistake, real or imagined.

And what would happen when he had nightmares? For the nightmares were inevitable and now that he couldn't cast silencing charms around his bed, he would be sure to wake Snape. Harry shivered at the thought...Snape, even more bad-tempered than usual from being woken in the middle of the night, catching him at his weakest moments.

But that had already happened, hadn't it? He'd woken from horrible visions of Sirius' death to find Snape sitting on the side of his bed and speaking to him so gently that Harry still wasn't sure if it had been real. Could Snape have really spoken to him in that tone of voice, as if he were actually human instead of a heartless git? Could Snape have truly apologised for the whole journal debacle? And if so, could it be that he might not be completely horrible if Harry happened to wake him again?

No, better not to trust him, Harry decided after a moment. Snape might have had a moment of temporary insanity, but he was still Snape. He'd despised Harry for years and that wasn't about to change. Snape would rip him to shreds if he caught Harry's weakness after a nightmare, and then do it all over again in front of his classmates when they were back at Hogwarts in the fall.

Unless, maybe if he were really lucky and somehow managed to defeat Voldemort this summer, and then he could be with his parents and Sirius before school started again....

But when had he ever been really lucky? Harry sighed. What were the odds of him being able to defeat Voldemort this summer? There was no doubt that old Snake-face would attack if he were given half a chance, but Harry had no clue how he could beat the dark wizard. One day he would. One day he would win and then he could be free, but he still had a lot to learn before that wonderful day came.

So for right now, he just couldn't let Snape catch him having nightmares, which meant that he couldn't sleep. At least he couldn't sleep at night with Snape right across the hall. Maybe during the day, if Snape were busy elsewhere, he could risk having a lie-down then, and next week he could go back to his old room where there was enough distance between them that Snape wasn't likely to hear if he screamed or cried in the night. He just had to make it through til then. It wouldn't be easy, but he could manage somehow. He always did.

Harry started to go over and get Hedwig out of her cage. It would be comforting to hold her on his arm and stroke her feathers, but she was sleeping soundly and it didn't seem right to wake her up when she was so peaceful just for his own selfish reasons, so instead Harry decided to take everyone's advice and rest for a while. At least he could eat up here alone tonight and not have to face a meal with Snape until morning.

He went over to the bed and laid down on it, leaning back gingerly against the pillows. It was as soft and comfortable as it looked and after a minute, Harry found that he was relaxing in spite of himself. He wished he could sleep. If he was going to have to stay up all night then it would be wise to take advantage of every opportunity to sleep that he had. But he had slept for much of the day, and he just wasn't sleepy right now.

Instead he pulled out the folded envelopes he'd stuffed into the pockets of his pyjama trousers. Ron's and Hermione's letters. He opened the first one and began reading.

***

An hour later Harry was still lying on his bed, surrounded by envelopes and parchment. He'd read every letter from his friends and was considering the best way to respond to them without telling them that he was Snape's slave and had to live with him now.

He felt a little guilty about keeping such monumental news from them, but he just didn't feel able to tell anyone yet, even Ron and Hermione whom he loved more than anyone else in the world. Knowing that he was a slave just hurt too much. He still felt shattered inside whenever he let himself think about it. His friends would have to hear about it one day, but not yet. Besides, he couldn't tell them now even if he'd wanted to. Dumbledore had said owl post wasn't safe enough.

Harry was so deep in thought that he jumped when there was a knock on the door and Snape came in, carrying a tray with a plate of food, a glass of pumpkin juice, and two vials of potions. The professor cast a disparaging eye at the mess of parchments lying haphazardly all over the bed, but he didn't say anything about it.

"Dinner is ready," the professor announced, rather unnecessarily Harry thought. His voice sounded a little stilted, but not hostile. It was the same way he'd been talking to Harry since last night and it was so unusual for Snape not to sound hateful that Harry just didn't know how to respond in kind.

Snape came over to the bed as Harry sat up a bit, and set the tray before him. "You should take the tissue restoration potion after you eat." He gestured towards the vial filled with orange liquid. "Take the other before you go to sleep tonight."

Harry hesitated, then asked. "What is it? Sir?"

"A dreamless sleep potion. It will help you to rest without having nightmares," Snape answered quietly.

For a minute Harry just stared. Was Snape actually doing something nice for him? No, he probably was just worried about Harry waking him in the middle of the night, too. Nonetheless, it was a relief to know that he didn't have to try to stay awake all night.

"Thank you," Harry finally managed to say.

Snape nodded stiffly. He looked uncomfortable, yet made no move to leave. Harry felt himself growing nervous. Snape wasn't going to eat up here with him, was he? After all, the whole reason Harry had claimed not to feel well enough to go to the dining room was to avoid Snape. But Snape hadn't brought a plate for himself so surely he would go and let Harry be alone, wouldn't he?

"Is there anything else you need?" Snape wanted to know.

Harry stared at him again in shock before giving his head a slight shake. "No, sir." Then as Snape finally turned to leave, he had to amend, "I mean, yes, sir."

Snape turned back to regard with him with sharp obsidian eyes. "Are you feeling worse?"

"Oh, no, sir. I'm all right. It wasn't anything like that. It's just that my friends have been writing to me." Harry motioned towards the papers around him. "And I wanted to know if I could write back to them. I know not to tell them that I'm here or anything, but just...just to write back to them," he finished lamely, then braced himself for Snape's cutting refusal.

But the professor seemed to be seriously considering his request. "You know not to tell them about the spell?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir."

"I suppose it would be all right, as long as you stick to generalities," Snape conceded. Then he swept away, leaving Harry feeling more bewildered and surprised than ever.