Harry shoved aside his charms book with a groan, dropped his quill on it and ran his hands through his hair, causing it to stand on end. He just couldn’t concentrate.  He let his head fall forward and smack the table with a bang, adding a few more bounces for good measure. He popped back up when his last bang was cushioned by a throw pillow that had appeared, along with a chuckle behind him. He glared at his father as the man entered the dining area and took the seat across from him.

“What’s so horrible that you’re trying to knock yourself out?” Severus asked, placing a stack of essays on the table.

“Nothing. I just can’t seem to concentrate,” Harry explained. Severus re-transfigured the pillow back to his son’s textbook. “I know I have to get this done – but my head is not wrapping around it. I keep worrying about Monday…”

Severus nodded in understanding. “Harry, that’s perfectly reasonable. If I had my way, you wouldn’t have to see that monster again. Unfortunately, the law requires it. There are so few cases of abuse in the wizard community…” he began, but Harry interrupted with a frown on his face.

“Why is that?” he wondered aloud.

“Hmmm? Well, because of the damage it could do to the magic in the child; or due to the damage the child could possibly inflict on the abuser in the case of accidental magic,” he explained. “The Weasleys excluded, Magicals are not a very prolific bunch – so anyone born with magic is usually cherished. Probably one of the reasons why the Headmaster was so blind to your abuse – he just couldn’t conceive of it. However, as you know, corporal punishment, as a disciplinary tool, is still used in many wizarding households, some of whom take it to extreme lengths. Unfortunately, a high number of my Slytherin students are still subjected to this type at home despite the parents knowing the possible consequences. Lucius Malfoy is very lucky Draco has never struck back.”

“So, why didn’t I ever do that to Uncle Vernon?” Harry asked, clearly disgusted with himself; if only he had used the magic on Vernon that first time when he was nine!

“It’s not all that simple, son. The Dursleys never let up on you from the time you entered their house. You never knew that you were magical; they made sure of that. Remember, you did use magic to get yourself out of trouble with Dudley.” During the few sessions he’d had with Severus and Whitney, they had managed to get Harry to open up about his life with his relatives and Harry had told them of the few instances of accidental magic he had performed.

“Yeah, but never with Uncle Vernon,” Harry sulked.

“Because you saw Dursley, in a way, as the alpha male in the house. He had complete reign over his little kingdom. If you had known from the beginning that you could do magic, and if Dursley had been more cognizant of the danger he was placing himself in by abusing you to such an extent, you would have been able to fend him off. However, you weren’t and you didn’t. It was a survival instinct kicking in – be passive and submissive to the alpha to ensure your survival. It wasn’t because you were incapable, son; you were unaware that you possessed the ability.”

That seemed to ease Harry’s mind a bit, but he still had a question. “So, this summer…”

“Harry… son…” Severus leaned closer to Harry, taking the boy’s smaller hands in his. “That man had you so brainwashed as to his superiority and your worthlessness in his eyes, that you were too frightened to retaliate. It was not your fault, do you understand?” He took one look at the tearful eyes of his son, and pulled the slight youth over to sit on his lap as he held him, running his long fingers through Harry’s hair, and pushing his love for this boy down their burgeoning link. It took only a few moments, but the shaking soon started, followed by Harry burying his head in his father’s shoulder, sobbing hot, gut-wrenching tears while clutching the man’s robes. Harry had cried before, but never like this, with such heart breaking sobs.

Severus settled back, gently holding the boy, encircling him with his arms and robes, letting him pour out his tears and frustrations for the first time in weeks, if not years. He murmured nonsense into his son’s ears, encouraging him in this purging that would help set Harry on the road to emotional healing. It was a very needed first step, one he and Whitney had been waiting for.

It took a long while, but Harry finally stopped crying, even though he still had Severus’ robes clutched in his hands. His eyes were closed and his breathing still had a hitch in it every now and then. When Severus finally looked down at his son, he realized Harry had fallen asleep. He rose up and carried the youngster into his bedroom and placed him on the bed, having to pry his robe out of his son’s hands, and placing a throw rug over the sleeping child.

It was after four o’clock and he doubted if Harry would get up in time for practice, so Severus floo-called the Gryffindor tower and told Hermione that Harry would not be at practice that evening and would she please tell the team captain.

“Is Harry alright, Professor?” she enquired with a touch of worry in her voice.

“He’s fine, Miss Granger – he is just catching up on some much needed sleep. By the way, Miss Granger…” He looked around the common room and noticed none of the Weasleys were there.

“Yes?”

“Ten points to Gryffindor for your performance at lunch today.” He smirked as the second-year reddened.

“Th… Thank you, sir,” she stuttered in complete and utter shock.

“I should be the one thanking you. Please make sure Mr Wood gets my message.”

“Yes, sir. Right away.” She put her book down and headed for the dorm stairs as her potions professor left the fireplace.

Two hours later, Harry – looking still a bit sleepy – ambled into the sitting room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He slumped onto the couch next to his father, then pulled his knees up to his chest and laid his head down on them, blinking blearily at the older wizard next to him. This was more of a comfort position rather than a defensive one and Severus could tell the difference by the relaxation in his son’s body.

“What time is it?” Harry asked groggily.

“Six-thirty.”

Harry’s eyes shot wide open as he took that information in. “I missed…”

“I already told your captain that you would not be there.”

Harry relaxed again, but looked sheepish. “Oh. Thanks, Severus.”

“You’re welcome.” He set the book down that he had been reading. “Are you hungry?”

Harry nodded his head in assent. “But I don’t want to go to the Great Hall,” he added.

“I was planning on eating down here.” He rose from the couch and offered a hand to the boy to assist him in rising as well, as Harry unfolded himself, then led the way to the table where he tapped the top once. Steaming plates appeared and the two silently served themselves.

“Where’s Draco?” Harry asked, looking around the room for his brother.

“Slytherin has tryouts today, he should be back in an hour or so, hopefully triumphant.”

“He better; I didn’t teach him my moves for nothing!” Harry jested. Severus smiled at his son’s attempt at light-heartedness.

“Dad?” Severus felt his heart flip, Harry rarely used this appellation for him – although it was coming more often.

“Yes?”

“I’m scared about Monday. I don’t know if I can face…” He struggled against the lump that had risen in his throat, to no avail; he couldn’t even voice his fear out loud.

“Whitney and I will be right there next to you. They will not come anywhere near you.” He had to constantly assure Harry of this. “I will also have some calming draught with me if you need it,” he reminded him.

Harry smiled at this. “Thanks, Dad. I’ll try to be a Gryffindor about this,” he jested.

“I know you will; much to my chagrin, I’m sure.” They both managed a slight smile at his attempt at humour. “Now, eat up – we can’t have you fainting from lack of nutrition!”

“Yes, sir,” Harry responded and followed it up with action, eating everything that was on his plate, and drinking his modified pumpkin juice.

After dinner, they relaxed with a game of chess – Severus had begun to teach Harry the finer points of the game in the evenings over the summer, and Harry had been stunned to find out he really liked the game now. He wanted to challenge Ron to a match to show him how much he had learned, but didn’t dare approach him.

Severus decided to use this time to talk to his son about what had happened in the dorm over the week while he calmly made his opening moves. “So, I heard a rumour today about a certain Gryffindor dorm smelling like a urinal this week. Care to let me in on it?”

Harry gazed up at his father. “Not particularly. It was a someone’s idea of a nasty joke.”

“I see. So, how many times did you have to sleep on the couch?” He received a glare as an answer.

“Harry?” he pushed.

“Three. It’s been taken care of, and they won’t do it again.”

Severus sighed. “Son, you could have come to me, or your head of house…”

“Why? That would be grassing on them; and I didn’t see any reason for it. Besides, they got the message that Nev and I weren’t going to tolerate it any longer.”

Severus felt a bit of pride, a touch of annoyance that his son hadn’t thought to come to him, and some apprehension as to what the two had done.

“You didn’t bring the twins into this, did you?”

Harry grinned evilly as he studied the board. “Noooo, although they really wanted to do something. No we just paid them back in kind – threefold.”

Severus groaned. “Oh, Merlin – you didn’t.”

“Of course we did! One night sleeping in the Common Room, and they declared a truce straight off,” he said proudly. Severus just shook his head and made his next move, forcing Harry back to paying attention to the game.

He studied the board in front of him, trying to think ahead a few steps as Severus was teaching him to do. Severus leaned back in his chair, watching his son slowly see the trap he had set.

“But that can’t… No, if I move my rook to there, he’ll… Ah, I see!” He looked up at his father with a grin on his face. “Thought you had me, didn’t you? But what if I do this?” He reached out and advanced his knight.

Severus leaned in to study the suddenly new configuration of the board; he hadn’t expected Harry to see this move… Damn, he was checked – and if he moved away from it, checkmated in two moves. He tipped his king over in defeat and leaned back in his chair.

“Well done, Harry!” he praised. Harry soaked in the praise, grinning from ear to ear that he had managed to outsmart his father in chess. They both looked up as the door to Severus’ quarters opened to admit an ecstatic Draco, practically bouncing in his excitement.

“I made it! I made the team, I’m Seeker!” he twirled around the room and ended up landing on the divan stretching out arms and legs in a burst of enthusiasm, beaming from ear to ear. He looked over at Harry, a superior sneer on his lips. “I’m so going to wipe the pitch with you, Snape!”

“In your dreams, fly-boy!” Harry retorted, with a snort. “I may have taught you some of my moves, but I didn’t teach you all of them!”

Draco tossed a pillow in Harry’s direction, but it was intercepted by Severus, who tossed it back on the couch; he didn’t need another pillow fight in his quarters.

“Congratulations, Draco – you’ve made me proud. Now, off to bed with you two, it’s getting a bit late, and we still have your mind techniques to work on.”

”Yes, sir.” Harry helped his father reset the board for next time and followed his brother off to their bedroom to get ready.

A half-hour later Severus knocked on his sons’ door, and heard a muffled “Enter”. He pushed it open and found Harry, hair still damp from a shower, and pyjamas sticking to damp spots on his skin, sitting at his desk and writing in his journal. Severus was quite pleased to see Harry doing this – it was one of the coping mechanisms that Whitney had devised for his son. Draco was still in the shower, humming quietly to himself.

“How’s the writing going?” he asked as he came to over and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Fine. I didn’t like it at first – but now I’m used to it. It helps me clear my mind before bedtime.” He put his quill down and closed the notebook, satisfied that he was done with the exercise for this evening and turned to face his father. “I really like the poem in the front of it – have I ever read it to you?”

“I don’t think so – you don’t have to share it…”

“But I want to, at least parts of it – it speaks so clearly to me and to Draco, it’s in his notebook too, we’ve sort of made it our own pact.” He flipped open the notebook to the front page. “Whitney told me last week it was written by a woman in America – he doesn’t know if she was abused or not, or just knew people who were – but she speaks so passionately about the subject… well, listen:

Broken, bruised, shattered and torn,
scarred, blistered, battered, unborn.
Incest, rape, no more trust;
You call it love, you call it lust.
Terrorized, hypnotized, rooted to the spot;
Eyes wide open, soul is cut.
Fear, nightmares, numbness, pain.
Betrayal, violence, terror, flame.”

Severus was quiet as his son recited, with an inborn passion, the words that spelled out his own inner and outer demons. The boy fairly spit out the words that he knew most about, and could identify with, in his own pain.

“And here – this is what Drake and I are making as our own pact:
 

‘It stops here, it stops today,
Your little game, I won’t play.

I swear by the earth, and all I hold dear,
I will not stand by and watch this slaughter,
I will intervene; I will stand in your way.
You will not strike your sister, your’ – we put in son, here; it’s supposed to be wife – ‘or your daughter.’

I hold this body Holy,
I hold this body Sacred,
I hold this body Inviolate.
I reject your violence, your hatred, your story.

And then at the end she says this: ‘I claim my life, my love, my rage!’” Harry and Severus were both quiet for a moment in reflection on the strength of the words. Harry remembered back to the night earlier in the week when he and Draco had met, in an empty classroom, after one of the more harrowing attacks by Nott and his gang.

“Harry, are you all right?” Harry had looked over at his god-brother who was sitting in the window embrasure with him. It was a deep windowsill, wide enough for them to sit Indian style, facing each other, with the window open to the night breezes wafting in the perfumes from the flower gardens below them.

“I’m fine, Drake. I was able to get off a few hexes before I could activate the Portkey.”

“Good,” Draco said, taking a deep breath before continuing on. “Harry, I think we need to make a promise to each other not to let the monsters in our lives take over. We have to control it!”

“Like the poem?” Harry asked timidly.

“Exactly. We can make a Sacred Vow, just like the poem. We can’t let them win – it’s our lives, we have to let them know they have no hold on us.”

“But they do, Drake… I’m always afraid…”

“I know, me too. But we can start by making our own vow and repeating it when it gets tough.”

Harry grinned over at his brother. “Since when did you become a Gryffindor?”

“When you became a Slytherin and haven’t told Uncle Sev about your dorm-mates!” he shot back.

“I’m handling it…”

“Like hell you are, Harry. You are letting them gain control. You can’t – you don’t deserve this, you need to stand up for your rights. Isn’t that what Whitney is always telling us?”

Harry nodded. It was true. “All right, I’ll make this vow with you. I know you’re right, it’s just hard.”

“I know…”

They had then gone to a secluded spot in the classroom, away from windows and doors and sat down on the floor, knees touching. They conjured a lighted candle and set it between them and, grasping hands, they closed their eyes and repeated the final stanza of the poem, setting their Vow in their souls. It had felt like a magical oath.

“I think that it is an excellent sentiment for you, son.” Harry came back with a start as his father spoke up. “I’m glad it speaks most poignantly to you two, and that you can use it as an expression of your experiences, and hope for the future.” He lifted a hand to caress Harry’s face, cupping his cheek before running his hand down his son’s head in affection and love. Harry leaned in to the loving touch – one of the few people he would let touch him in any sort of manner – closing his eyes for a moment, enjoying the feel of his father’s love spark along the bond they were forming with each other. He felt much the same for his brother – but their beginning boyhood bond was much more tenuous, only passing along vague emotions.

“Nightmares?” Severus asked concernedly as he studied the face that so mirrored his own.

“Not lately. …” He scrunched his face up in thought. “Although… tonight I might have some…”

“Hmmm…” Severus had expected this and pulled out a small vial from his robes, placing it on Harry’s bedside table. “Here is some Dreamless Sleep if you need it, however let’s try your mind clearing exercises and see if that doesn’t do the trick.” This was another thing Severus had begun with Harry: relaxation exercises to clear the mind, and visualization techniques to help him order his mind in preparation for the more advanced study of Occlumency.  With their solid knowledge that Voldemort was still around, Severus felt the need to prepare his son for the monster’s eventual rise back to power; it was just a matter of time. Severus knew that the Dark Lord was skilled in Legilimency and if Harry ever had to confront him again, the beast would stop at nothing to destroy the boy’s mind. So, Severus was teaching him the basics of protecting his mind with the added benefit of reducing the nightmares.

Harry bounced onto his bed, landing cross-legged in the centre. Severus smiled at the boy’s limberness – ah, to be twelve again. The older man resettled himself as well and faced his son.

“Alright, Harry. Tonight we are going to work on compartments. So, breathe in… that’s correct, close your eyes… find your centre and relax into it… breathe out, well done. Continue…” When he had determined that Harry was deeply relaxed, he began the visualization techniques. Harry had chosen to visualize a forest with overgrown foliage as his barrier; he had recently added hunting beasts that prowled the perimeter as further protection. Now, they were going to work on separating his thoughts into well-ordered compartments that were scattered throughout the forest; the real start of Occlumency. He would be interested in seeing what Harry was going to devise for that.

“Now Harry, open your eyes and I shall show you how to order your thoughts and memories.” His son opened his eyes and Severus was struck again by the sheer potency of those green eyes staring so trustingly into his. The bond they had forged over the last few weeks strengthened each time Severus entered his mind, to the point that he could now enter without the spell. He fell into those green pools and encountered the forest.

He stood at the edge, taking in the expanse of the construct. It had the appearance of the Forbidden Forest, but Harry was starting to add hanging vines and undergrowth so that is now resembled a tropical jungle. Severus took a step towards the trees and found his way blocked by a large Hippogriff – his son had read his old school copy of Newt Scamander’s beast book and had peppered his construct with the roaming beasts. As Severus looked, a huge python snake lowered itself from a branch above to peer at him, flicking its tongue in his direction.

“Dad?”

“Yes, Harry, I’m here.” He looked down to his left as a young boy came up to him. “Your forest is looking much more complete than the last time I was here – and it responded quite well when I made an attempt to enter. Well done, Harry.”

The young child grinned up at the older man. “Do you like my guardian?” He nodded towards the snake. “He will only let those who know the password in Parseltongue to pass. Voldemort would never be able to get to the password – I have it buried deep in the forest.”

“Good, shall we see how deep and what else you have tried to do?” his father enquired.

Harry nodded and led his father past the python and Hippogriff. They made their way along no discernable path – as far as Severus could see, although Harry led the way unerringly - to a spot that seemed relatively central. A deep blue pool, that seemed fathomless, was in the centre of a glade. Harry stopped at the edge and Severus continued on his way around, peering into the azure depths and feeling the strength of the wards around it. He was impressed, Harry had done this naturally, without guidance – this boded well for the future.

“I modelled it after a picture I saw of a geyser pool in the Americas. It was very deep and blue, and you could never see the bottom.”

“And the password?…”

“At the bottom.” The boy grinned his satisfaction. Severus nodded his acceptance.

“Very good. You have the beginning sense of what I wanted to discuss. If you like the idea of pools, you can use these, scattering them around the forest to hide your thoughts in. Use certain pools for certain types of memories. It doesn’t matter how you order them, how you separate them by types – just that you do – and then drop these in the pools where they can be safe.”

“I think I understand, Dad. I’ll work on this during the week – but I’m pretty knackered now…”And to emphasize that, the projection-Harry cracked a huge yawn, that caused his father to do the same. They laughed a second afterwards, and then Severus took his son’s hand and led him out of the forest towards their separate selves.

Severus opened his eyes and stared into Harry’s green orbs, studying his son as he waited for the boy to become aware of his surroundings. He marvelled at how well Harry was picking up this study; last year he would never have picked Harry Potter as having the capacity for this type of mind discipline. How wrong he was. Harry soon gave a little shake of his head and yawned again.

Severus noticed the shower had stopped while they were absorbed in their exercise and saw that Draco was already asleep in the other bed. They had been under a bit longer than he thought.

“Excellent, Harry. You are making true progress. Soon, we’ll be able to erect true barriers and progress into real Occlumency where you will learn to defend your mind from attack. Right now, your barriers are passive. Now, do you think you’ll need the potion?” Severus whispered as he stood up and, after helping the boy under the covers, tucked his son into bed.

“I don’t think so, but leave it there just in case; please?” Severus gently brushed his son’s hair away from his forehead, then bent down to leave a quiet kiss on his head.

“Of course I shall leave it. Sleep well, Harry.”

“G’night, Dad…” Harry closed his eyes as he snuggled into the pillow. One last pat on the head, and Severus went over to check on Draco, tucking the covers more firmly under the boys chin and dropping a kiss on his head as well, He then took his leave, Nox-ing the lights and closing the door to just a crack.