Severus had expected Harry to ask permission to go flying once he'd returned the Firebolt, or even to just go ahead, since returning the broomstick was really giving tacit permission to use it. But Harry simply stored the Firebolt and the cloak in his room and went back to studying.

Severus watched him from the doorway for a little while. It really wasn't like the Harry Potter he'd observed at Hogwarts to give up flying to read textbooks. Of course he knew that his observations had been flawed, and greatly so, for him to have misjudged the child's basic personality so badly, but still he didn't think he'd been wrong about the fact that Harry loved flying.

He cleared his throat and Harry jumped as he turned around in his chair to see Severus watching him.

"You seem to have spent a great deal of time studying the past few days," Severus said. "And Norie and Zan tell me you worked hard on your school assignments the first days you were here, also. Surely you don't have that much summer homework, even in Potions." He risked giving the boy a tiny smile as he ended.

Harry hesitated; then said quietly. "No, sir. I've already finished all the assignments."

"Then why...?" Severus frowned. "I know I told you that I expected you to do well in your classes, but I didn't mean that you had to study to the exclusion of everything else. You may take some time to enjoy yourself, too."

"Thank you, sir." Harry stared down at the floor, biting his lip.

Severus had the impression that he wasn't finished speaking, or that he was at least debating over whether to say something else. Severus waited silently, willing the boy to continue.

Finally he did. "It's just that I need to know as much as I can, so I'll be ready when I have to face Voldemort again. Or as ready as I can be, I guess."

Harry looked back up at him, his expression a mixture of anxiety and resignation, and Severus felt a wave of compassion that the boy had to bear this burden.

He sighed and started to step into the room, then stopped. "May I come in?"

The boy looked surprised, but he nodded, and Severus came in and pulled an armchair closer to the desk before sitting and saying, "It is wise to want to be prepared. However, you also need to be strong and healthy. Staying cooped up inside all day and barely touching your food at mealtimes is not conducive to good health."

Harry bowed his head. "I'm sorry."

"No, don't apologise. Let's just take steps to remedy the situation. Try to eat more at dinner tonight, to begin with."

"Yes, sir. It's just..." Harry broke off and looked back down at the floor again.

"Just what?" Severus ventured after a moment.

A long pause and then Harry said, so softly that Severus almost couldn't hear him. "It's just that I feel like I'll sick up whenever I eat."

Severus frowned again and drew his wand. "I'm going to perform a diagnostic spell, just to be sure you haven't developed a stomach ulcer. If you have, we need to have it treated at once."

But Harry didn't have an ulcer, which meant his nausea was in all likelihood caused by stress, fear, and grief. Just for an instant, Severus felt such sorrow and empathy for the boy that he wanted to take him in his arms and comfort and protect him.

Then he was shocked at himself. It was one thing to admit he'd been wrong, to feel curiosity about this boy who was now his responsibility, even to feel concerned and sympathetic for him. But Severus had never been blatantly demonstrative or emotional. That was more Albus' style.

Yet there was something about this child...

Shaking his head slightly, he turned his attention back to the conversation. "You do not have an ulcer, so your queasiness is most likely caused by nerves." He hesitated. "I know the past weeks have been very difficult for you, but you must try not to worry so. I...I will not mistreat you again. You must try to relax a little."

Harry gave a small nod. "Yes, sir."

Severus cleared his throat. "Also, I think that on days when the weather permits, you should spend an hour or two outside. Fresh air and exercise are always beneficial. You may fly or walk around the gardens, or explore out on the moor so long as you stay within the Fidelius Charm boundaries. There is a low stone wall surrounding Prince Hall, just beyond eyesight on the moor. It is our boundary, so do not cross it, but you will be perfectly safe within its perimeters."

Harry nodded again and repeated. "Yes, sir."

Severus glanced over to the windows, where a blazing sun shone in a sapphire sky. "It appears to be a rather nice day, so off you go then."

He let his lips quirk upwards again, so Harry wouldn't take the order the wrong way. He was still surprised when the boy gave him a tentative smile back, just for an instant before he stood and went to get his Firebolt.

Severus stood too, and started to leave, but at the door he paused. "Come back in at four o'clock and we can have tea, if you wish."

"Yes, sir," Harry said softly.

***

It was a beautiful day, warm and sunny, but with a gentle breeze that ruffled Harry's hair and set the leaves of the majestic oak trees to whispering. Harry stepped onto the terrace and looked about uncertainly. He couldn't imagine what had gotten into Snape lately. The man was almost being nice, and Harry could only hope it wasn't some new trick, to try to put him off-guard. But Snape really had seemed genuinely concerned for him, and he had returned Harry's cloak and Firebolt.

Harry looked at his broom and ran his fingers along the smooth handle. He'd always loved the Firebolt and not just because it was the best, top-of-the-line professional broom. No, it was much more important than that. The Firebolt had been a gift from Sirius, one of the few tangible signs that Harry had ever had that someone loved and wanted him...or had loved and wanted him.

An image of Sirius falling through the veil in the Department of Mysteries rose in Harry's mind, and a painful lump came to his throat. He fiercely blinked tears away and swallowed hard until the lump melted.

There's no reason to feel sad. I'll see Sirius again, maybe before very long, Harry reminded himself. And then we'll be together forever, and with Mum and Dad, too. I'll be free again, and everything will be perfect.

Harry leaped on the Firebolt and pushed off. He didn't want to think anymore. He just wanted to lose himself in the joy of flight.

For a while he did. He didn't know how high the protective charm went, so he didn't fly too high, but he did go high enough to dive and twist and spiral across the lawn and gardens. Then he flattened himself against the handle and zoomed across the moor, the wind whipping through his hair and stinging his face. As fast as he was going, it was only a moment before he saw the stone wall that Snape had warned him about, but he leaned to his right and the broom curved in a graceful arc. Harry continued his solitary race in a wide circle along the perimeter.

Finally he slowed and glided back over the wrought-iron fence that separated the moor and the lawn. He landed and sat down on the ground by one of the oak trees. He laid the Firebolt on the ground beside him and leaned back against the tree. He felt...not exactly happy, but better than he had in a very long time. Flying was such fun. Soaring through the air almost made him feel free again, as if he could rise above all the demands and injustices and slip away from his troubles forever.

If only he could...

But of course he couldn't. The sense of almost-happiness faded as Harry thought about what still lay ahead of him. He still had to face Voldemort and Death Eaters. He had to face every day with the knowledge that the people who loved him were either dead or out of reach. He had to live with a man who despised him. He had to live the rest of his life as that man's slave.

The burdens that had lifted while he was flying settled heavily back upon his shoulders, and Harry looked over at the Hall with a hopeless expression. At that moment, he felt so tempted to go ahead and kill himself. He was just so tired of it all...tired of being sad and scared, tired of dreading the future, tired of being alone.

"I miss you, Sirius," he whispered, his fingers stroking the Firebolt's handle again. "I really, really miss you. I want to be with you. I want to meet my mum and dad, and I want us to be a family. I've never had that. The closest I've ever had is Ron and Hermione, and I don't know if I can even have them anymore."

"I wish you were here, and you could help me. You know, all that year I was in the Triwizard Tournament and last year when things were so hard at school, it helped me so much just to know that I could talk to you about it. I didn't tell you everything, but I always knew that if it got too bad I could go to you, and you'd do anything to help me. You and Remus are the only grown-ups who ever really helped me like that."

"But then Remus kind of disappeared after third year. I wished he hadn't. For a while I wondered if I'd done something wrong, to make him not want to be my friend anymore, but he didn't seem upset or anything when I saw him again, so I don't really know."

"But at least I had you then, and I knew you weren't going to disappear on me. I mean, you came back and hid in a cave and lived on rats just so you could be near me during the Tournament. I figured you had to really want to be with me to do that, and you always said that you wanted me to live with you, and for us to be a family."

Harry drew his knees up and rested his face against them for a little while, as memories of Sirius played through his mind. He wanted to cry, but he couldn't. He hadn't cried since the day at Hogwarts, out by the lake, right after Sirius had died. Sometimes he wanted to, but it was as if all the tears had frozen inside him.

Well, it was just as well. He needed to go inside and have tea with Snape, and he certainly didn't want the professor to see him crying. Harry had no idea why Snape was acting so nice, and he was feeling very confused. The man had definitely been treating him differently since he'd injured his lungs. Could it be possible that Snape didn't despise him anymore? Could he truly have changed that much?

There was a part of Harry that wanted to believe it, that wanted to trust in Snape's apparent change of heart and respond to it. But a bigger part of him screamed warnings. He could trust Snape to save his life, but he couldn't trust Snape not to taunt him, to exploit his vulnerabilities, and to subject him to a thousand petty cruelties. It would be just like Snape to lull him into revealing weaknesses and then turn on him. Everyone at Hogwarts would know all of Harry's secrets and vulnerabilities if he wasn't careful.

No, he would be very polite and do whatever Snape said. He wasn't about to give Snape any more reason to be angry with him. Who knew what Snape would do if he lost his temper again? He'd said that he wouldn't mistreat Harry again, but Harry was a slave and had no rights, and if Snape got angry enough....well, he had said that he would beat and starve him, too. Harry didn't want to find out the hard way if he might follow through.

He looked back down at the Firebolt and lightly touched it again with his fingertips.

"I miss you," he repeated. Then he took it, stood, and trudged back up to Prince Hall.

***

Severus watched the boy flying from windows of the front parlor. The long windows on two walls afforded a generous view, and he was able to see many of Harry's antics. A few times his heart leaped into his throat as he observed various aerial escapades. What in Merlin's name possessed the boy? Was he suicidal? Severus almost went outside and called him down, but then Harry settled into an even path, and though he was going too fast for Severus' liking, he did seem to have the broom easily under control.

Harry zipped out of sight, apparently traveling in a wide circle around the estate. Severus watched intently until he came back into view, and then was surprised at how tense he'd been.

Harry landed and went to rest underneath one of the oak trees that dotted the lawn. He came close enough for Severus to glimpse his face and Severus was struck at how relaxed he seemed, almost at ease. It occurred to him that he hadn't seen Harry look like that in a very long time, and never when he knew Severus was close by.

Severus' heart gave an odd little lurch, and he realised wonderingly that he wanted to see that expression on Harry's face more often, even when they were together.

But then Harry ran his fingers along the Firebolt, drew his knees up to his chest, and bowed his head. He sat like that for a long time and when he finally stood up and came towards the house, he looked sad and defeated again.

Severus wondered what he'd been thinking about. His lost godfather? Perhaps he should have gone outside and...what? He'd never been any good at offering comfort. Harry wouldn't want those words or gestures from him, would he? Soft words and touches implied a closeness that simply did not exist between the two of them. There was too much past hostility between Harry and himself, and it would take a long time to overcome, if indeed it ever could be. Harry would likely be horrified and offended if Severus overstepped the boundaries too quickly.

But when he went to meet Harry as he came inside and saw the boy's dull eyes and drawn face, he almost wished that he had tried.

Instead he motioned for Harry to come into the parlor. The boy did so, glancing around at the vast room. The walls were papered in gold damask and there were golden drapes at the windows. A large tapestry, depicting scenes from a thirteenth-century snidget hunt, hung on one wall, while a mirror and several landscape paintings hung on the others. A faded golden rug, with touches of ivory and dark green lay on the floor, and the furniture was upholstered in gold, ivory, or gold and ivory stripes.

Severus told Harry to prop the Firebolt in the corner and gestured for him to lead the way over to two chairs near the side window, with a small round table between. Severus started to call one of the elves but Norie appeared before he could, levitating a tray laden with scones dripping with honey and jam, several varieties of biscuits, and of course a teapot and two cups and saucers.

She set the tray on the table and smiled at Harry. Then she turned to Severus, and he expected another glare, but instead she gave him a tiny, approving nod and disappeared without a word.

Severus noted that Harry was perched on the edge of his chair and looked a little uncomfortable. He cast about for a way to set the boy at ease and decided that food would be a safe enough starter.

"Help yourself," he directed. His voice must have sounded more brusque than he'd intended, for Harry still looked nervous as he took a plate and uncertainly eyed the selection of goodies.

Severus hoped that taking his attention off the boy might help, so he chose a small assortment for himself. He didn't have much of a sweet tooth and normally preferred sandwiches or meat pies when he had tea, but Norie had obviously selected today's menu with Harry in mind. Ah, well, the scones weren't half bad and if Harry could be tempted to eat a little, it would be worthwhile.

He poured a cup of tea and asked if Harry liked sugar in it. He added a couple of lumps at the boy's direction and passed it over, noting that Harry had picked a scone with jam and a chocolate biscuit. It wasn't much, but it was a beginning. Severus fixed tea for himself, sans sugar, and they set to eating.

"Did you have a good time flying?" He asked after a few minutes.

"Yes, sir." Harry hesitated. "Thank you for letting me have my Firebolt... um, your Firebolt, I mean," he finished quietly.

Severus surprised himself when he reached over to lay his hand on top of Harry's. "It is your Firebolt, whatever the legal records say. Of course you may refer to it as yours."

He removed his hand, suddenly feeling unbearably embarrassed.

But after staring in stunned silence for a moment, Harry bit his lip and blinked hard a few times before whispering, "Thank you, sir."

Harry looked quickly away as if afraid of showing emotion, and Severus didn't know how to ease the situation either. He realized he'd averted his own eyes to the tapestry. Harry liked Quidditch; perhaps he'd be interested in the historic role of the small golden bird.

"That tapestry has been in the Prince family for many generations. Snidget hunting was a favorite activity in the late thirteenth and early fourteenth centuries. It began when Chief Warlock Barberus Bragge had the innovative idea to release one during a Quidditch match and offer a reward of 150 galleons to the player who captured it. It proved to be an immensely popular move, to the point that no Quidditch match afterwards was complete without a search for the golden snidget."

"Unfortunately the tiny creatures were fragile, and often died in the capture, so in 1322 they were declared endangered and given protective status. Soon after that, Bowman Wright invented a small enchanted ball that could closely mimic the flight of the live animal. Eventually the game evolved into one player for each team being designated as a Snitch Seeker, with points replacing galleons as a reward."

Severus looked back at Harry, who was watching him quietly. He arched an eyebrow and let his lips quirk upwards. "No doubt, you are already familiar with the tale."

Slowly Harry gave him that tiny hesitant smile back. "Yes, sir. It was in the book you took away from me in first-year."

Severus felt the corners of his mouth turn up slightly more. He raised his wand and called, "Accio Quidditch Through the Ages!"

A moment later a book with a bright emerald binding flew through the air and landed gently in Harry's lap. Harry looked at the book; then up at Severus in complete bewilderment.

"As you remarked to your friends on that occasion, I did indeed simply make up the rule about library books not being allowed outside. I suppose that might have been a trifle unjust of me. Therefore, allow me to present you with your own copy," Severus told him.

As the boy stared blankly at him, Severus felt himself break into a real smile. He gestured towards the table.

"Have another biscuit."