The ancient chair creaked as Severus gingerly lifted himself up. He attempted to stretch his stiff, aching limbs to ease some of his tension. As he gazed down at Harry, his heart lurched at the pale face before him. At least the boy seemed comfortable, he assured himself. He had given Harry a mild pain reliever, fearing that anything too strong would perhaps exacerbate his condition, and plunge him further into unconsciousness. Severus wasn't about to admit to Poppy how concerned he really was that Po-Harry wasn't regaining consciousness as quickly as he expected, or hoped for. It had been three days now since the incident, and although his breathing seemed more stable, as well as his heartbeat, Harry still hadn't opened his eyes. According to Poppy's diagnostics, the swelling in the brain had reduced considerably, so why wasn't he conscious yet? Severus was reluctant to explore the possibilities.

He went to the window to stare out at the grounds beyond. A light sprinkling of snow carpeted the grounds. It was early morning, and the sun had yet to rise. The pale moonlight lit the room in a soft warm glow. He glanced back at Harry.

He stared at the unconscious boy, willing him to open his eyes; to say something....anything. Merlin, the boy could hurl his usual defiant spiel for all he cared. Of course, he'd deduct points from Gryffindor; can't pass up that chance, now could he? But he could deal with that. As a matter of fact, Severus would give anything to see those flashing green eyes light up in anger. Hell....I'd even put up with his cocky attitude and Gryffindor recklessness, if the damned boy would. Just. Open. His. Eyes. Dammit!

Severus went to Harry's bedside. “Potter, it's about time you woke up now. Enough of this nonsense. I've got some flobberworms that need dicing, and some frog guts that have your name written on them,” he said in a low voice. “Come on Harry. I'm not finished with you yet. We have too much unfinished business to attend to.” Severus' hand seemed to move of its own volition; it swept through Harry's unwashed hair. Severus smirked. “I hate to tell you this, Potter, but I do believe that you've inherited my greasy hair. And your nose appears a little larger than yesterday.”

“Go to hell, Snape,” Harry mumbled. His parched lips lifted slightly in a small smile.

Harry struggled to open his heavy eyelids. He felt as though his brain was full of cotton swabs, and his eyes felt gritty and burnt intensely. He looked up into Snape's lined face. The cold man wasn't able to hide the worry this time. Harry noticed that the man's robes were wrinkled, and his eyes were shadowed; he looked as though he hadn't slept in days.

He was in the hospital wing, Harry realised. The images of a large fist making contact with his nose, was the last thing that Harry remembered. But they didn't put you in the hospital for a broken nose, Harry reasoned. So, what the hell had happened? And why did it look like Snape was worried sick, despite his desperate attempt to appear otherwise.

Harry's lips were cracked and dry, and it was difficult to speak. “Water, please,” he croaked.

Snape, relief washing through him, quickly poured Harry a glass of water from the urn on the bedside table. At the same time he handed Harry his glasses, and thought to himself that he would have given Harry almost anything he asked for at that moment, so relieved was he that the boy had come back to him. Of course he would not share that thought with Potter. No sense in revealing how very vulnerable and weak he had felt when he thought that he might lose the son that he had not yet had the time to get to know. He would definitely rectify it now, he vowed to himself.

Harry noticed the ever-so-slight tremble of Snape's hands as he passed the glass of water to Harry. The cool water slid down Harry's throat, easing the dryness. “What exactly happened, and why am I here?” Why would Snape look so worried over a simple broken nose? Had something else happened that Harry couldn't remember? Oh no! Had he had another episode with the Dark Magic? Is that why he couldn't remember why he was in the hospital?

Snape smirked. “You do remember picking a fight with a mammoth Slytherin twice your size?”

Harry looked abashed. “Uh, yeah,” he answered sheepishly. “Wasn't too bright of me, was it?”

Snape lifted an eyebrow. “I'd say not.”

Harry's eyes crinkled in confusion. “But why am I in the hospital? I mean my nose hurts like hell, but I wouldn't just be in the hospital for that,” he pointed out.

Harry noticed that the flicker of worry that he had seen on his father's face earlier was back, and it as apparent, struggle as he might, the normally cool and composed man was having a difficult time hiding it.

“You sustained a severe concussion after you hit your head on the floor,” Severus explained. “You have been unconscious for several days now,” he said in a strained voice.

Well that explained the foggy feeling and the dull ache still throbbing in his head. “Oh,” Harry said softly. “Have you been here all this time?” he asked, eyeing Severus' crumpled clothes and weary eyes.

Severus looked uncomfortable. “Yes well, you had to be kept under observation, and I thought it prudent to remain here in case you required another potion. As well, to let Poppy have a break.”

Harry wasn't fooled. He could tell that Snape had been concerned for him, and the fact that he had obviously slept in a chair at his bedside for several days, spoke volumes about the man's state of mind. Harry knew that Snape wouldn't admit outright that he cared, but no one, had ever taken care of him in such a way, other than his friends, of course. The Dursleys had simply thrown him in the cupboard when he had been ill, and washed their hands of him. A warm glow spread through Harry. Maybe it wasn't too late for him to have a father, after all.

Severus noticed Harry suddenly clenching his teeth, and the colour drain from his face. “Are you in pain?” he inquired, interrupting Harry's thoughts.

“Yeah, a little,” Harry admitted reluctantly. Actually, his head was beginning to seriously ache, and his eyes still burned, but Harry, like his father, hated to admit weakness, and was used to enduring pain which was much more severe.

Severus went over to the medicine cabinet, and retrieved a pain relief potion. “Here, you may take this. It will ease your pain and help you sleep. It's still early in the morning. Perhaps you'll feel better after several hours of sleep.”

He handed the phial of potion to Harry, who grabbed it gratefully and downed it quickly. It wasn't long before Harry's eyelids felt heavy again, and he drifted off into a peaceful, painless sleep.

Severus eased himself back into the chair beside Harry's bed, and allowed himself to close his weary eyes as well; secure in the knowledge that his son would be just fine.

-----

“Do you think that he's going to sleep all day?” Ron asked, peering down closely, examining Harry's eyelids.

“Well, obviously he needs the rest Ron, so try to be patient,” Hermione admonished.

“Yeah well, I just want to see for myself that he's alright,” Ron grumbled.

Hermione pursed her lips. “Well if Professor Snape said that he's going to be fine, then you'll just have to trust him. Now do settle down,” she ordered sternly.

Ron huffed, and plonked himself down without grace, into the chair.

“Better listen to her, mate.”

“Harry!” Ron jumped up excitedly. Then composed himself; not wanting to appear too eager.

Harry smiled at them, and reached out with a feeble hand to grab Ginny's hand as she allowed him to gently pull her onto the bed, into an embrace.

“You are a sight for sore eyes.” Harry smiled at her. He brushed his finger lightly against her silky skin.

Ginny narrowed her eyes and glared at him. “You'd better never scare me like that again, Harry Potter,” she reprimanded him.

Harry chuckled. “I'll try not to.”

“Don't make promises you can't keep, Potter,” Severus' deep voice interrupted. “You are a magnet for trouble.”

Severus lifted an eyebrow at the way that Ginny was laying on the hospital bed beside Harry. Her face heated up in embarrassment, and she scrambled to her feet.

Severus narrowed his eyes at Harry and Ginny. “A little decorum, if you will. This is a hospital, not a brothel,” he said snidely.

“We weren't doing anything, you giant bat,” Harry said through gritted teeth. He would have like nothing more than to throw a bedpan at Snape's big nose.

The sound of Snape's chuckling had the Gryffindors staring in shock with their mouths agape.

“Welcome back, Potter,” he said with a small smile. Smart mouth and all, his son was going to be fine, and Severus never thought that he would welcome Potter's cheek, but it was music to his ears.

His expression suddenly turned serious. “I must go see Poppy.” He narrowed his eyes at Harry and fixed him with a stern glare. “Do not even think about leaving that bed.”

With that, he turned to leave. He stopped abruptly, twirled around, and sneering at Harry and Ginny, he asked, “Can I trust you two to behave yourselves?”

Harry and Ginny glared at him.

“Oh, and ten points from Gryffindor for your insolence, Potter,” Snape said over his shoulder as he swept out the door.

The three Gryffindors exchanged confused glances. Their Potions Master's moods of late had been like a roller-coaster, and they'd had yet to come to terms with a nice Snape; well...not exactly nice, per se, but he was definitely exhibiting out-of-character behaviour. They'd certainly never thought that they'd see the day where Snape would smile, let alone actually chuckle! What was next? Would he be awarding Gryffindor points? Taking points off Slytherin? Nah... not bloody likely!

Harry made a face at Snape's departing back, and defiantly pulled Ginny back onto the bed.

Ginny looked at him in horror. “What are you doing, Harry? What if he comes back?”

“Who cares?”

“Well you should, Harry,” Ginny said indignantly. “What if he comes back and catches us. You know what he's like. He'll probably forbid you from seeing me, or assign us more detentions. I'd really rather not being serving detention into next term, as well, thank you very much!”

“I’d like to see him try to stop me from seeing you," Harry said angrily. “He has no right to do that.”

“Harry you're living with the man. He can do anything he wants, so why provoke him?” Hermione huffed. Honestly, she thought that they had made progress in their relationship, but Harry was so damned stubborn.

“Relax Harry,” Ginny said soothingly. “We've got plenty of time to be alone. Snape has been sitting here for three days taking care of you; sleeping on that chair, and probably not eating. So he's a little cranky. “

Harry raised his eyebrows. A little cranky?

“Fine,” he relented.

“But when I'm outta here-” Harry began.

“When you're out of here, young man,” Poppy's stern voice came from the doorway, as she entered with Severus who was looking suspiciously at Ginny, as she jumped up quickly from Harry's bed, “you will be resting for a few days, and not running around picking fights with the Green Giant,” she admonished sternly, wagging her finger at him.

“Yes ma'am,” Harry mumbled.

“Oh trust me, he will rest, if I have to handcuff him to his bed,” Snape threatened menacingly. That way, I can keep an eye on him, and keep him safe, Severus thought smugly to himself.

Harry glared at him. Who the hell did Snape think he was? What was he planning on doing? Keeping him a bloody prisoner?

Ginny and Hermione shared an exasperated look.

Honestly! the girls thought; were men just incredibly obtuse? It was fairly obvious to them, that Snape had been incredibly worried about Harry, and now he just wanted to keep Harry safe and sound. Sure, Snape wasn't good at showing how he felt, but he was obviously trying to hide his feelings behind a facade of aloofness.

“Can I leave now?” Harry asked hopefully.

Poppy exchanged a look with Severus. “You were unconscious for three days, Mr. Potter,” she said hesitantly. “I'd feel better keeping you for another day.”

“But-”

“That will be fine Poppy,” Severus intervened. “Best not to rush it.” He fixed Harry with a look, that said it was useless to argue.

Damn, Harry thought. He knew that if Snape had shut his big trap, he would have been able to convince Poppy to let him leave now. Harry crossed his arms in frustration. He wanted out of here. He'd had enough of hospitals to last him a lifetime.

“It's alright, mate,” Ron consoled him. “We'll keep you company. You still owe me a game of chess.”

“Mr. Potter needs his rest,” Poppy said sternly. “You may remain for another half-hour,” she said firmly. At their crestfallen looks, she relented. “You may return later, after dinner. He mustn't overdo it,” she warned.

“Yes, of course, we understand,” Hermione assured her.

“Severus, may I speak with you privately, please?” Poppy motioned towards her office.

Severus nodded and followed her; he closed the door to her small office behind him.

“He is doing remarkably well, but you will see to it that he doesn't overdo it?” she asked worriedly.

“Of course, Poppy,” he acquiesced.

She looked at him thoughtfully. “I must admit that the efficacy of your potion surprised me. I was rather sceptical as to its effectiveness, at first,” She admitted reluctantly."I was rather worried that the swelling on, Mr.-” she hesitated, “-your son's brain, was too severe to respond that quickly, or possibly at all to the potion, but I was quite amazed at the results,” she said approvingly.

Severus nodded his head. He flushed slightly at the compliment. He was quite unused to receiving them, after all.

He quickly changed the subject. “So I gather that Har-Harry's prognosis is good?” Severus faltered slightly on the name. He had decided to make a more concentrated effort to call his son by his proper name; no matter how difficult it would prove to be.

Poppy gave him a knowing look. She had always known that despite Severus' prickly exterior, within lay, a good, reliable man. Unfortunately, it was a persona that the man allowed few to see, and it was a shame really, because, although Severus had few friends or allies, he was extremely loyal and staunchly protective of those few who allowed in. Young Harry Potter was extremely fortunate to have Severus on his side. She knew that Harry couldn't ask for a better protector than Severus. She could tell that there was still a lot of animosity between the two of them, but after seeing how Severus had not left his son's side for three days, and how his harsh features were lined with worry at the thought that his son wouldn't pull through, Poppy knew that this was a relationship worth cultivating. She only hoped that the two of them could put aside their pride and meet each other halfway.

“Yes,” she finally answered firmly. “However, as I said before, he mustn’t over-do it, and go running off like he usually does.” she pursed her lips disapprovingly.

“Yes, well,” Severus said sternly, “since the boy is residing with me, I'll be able to monitor his condition, and assure that he does not over-tax himself.”

Poppy smiled at the man, causing him to narrow his eyes suspiciously at her. “Yes, I'm quite sure you can handle Mr. Potter,” she chuckled. “He is extremely headstrong...not unlike his father,” she added with a twinkle in her eye.

Severus was rather shocked at her boldness. Not that the Mediwitch had ever held back on saying what was on her mind, he thought caustically.

Before Severus could respond however, she was shooing him out of her office, and giving him strict instructions on Harry's care. “And do make sure that he eats well, Severus. That boy eats like a bird; he needs to keep up his strength.”

Severus rolled his eyes. “Yes Poppy, don't worry, he's in good hands.”

Poppy studied him for a moment, and replied, “Yes Severus; I do believe that he is. You may come to collect him after breakfast tomorrow morning,” she instructed.

Severus noticed upon leaving Poppy's office, that Harry and his friends were becoming a little boisterous. He folded his arms and glared at them.

Severus observed that Harry's face looked pale and drawn again, and he was struggling to keep his eyes open. “I do believe that your half-hour is up, and Harry needs to rest now,” he said firmly.

None of them objected, because it was obvious from Harry's pasty pallor and the dark shadows beneath his eyes, that Harry was tired. The boy in pain, Severus thought to himself, and was hesitant to say anything to his friends, lest he appear weak.

“See ya later mate,” Ron assured Harry. “I'll bring my chessboard with me.”

Hermione gave him a hug, and Ginny gave him a quick peck on the lips; uncomfortably aware of Snape's piercing stare.

“Bye... see you later Harry,” chimed Ginny and Hermione, as they rushed to flee Snape's overpowering presence. The man was like an overprotective mother hen, the girls thought to themselves with a mixture of amusement and disbelief.

Severus breathed a sigh of relief when the annoying Gryffindors had finally departed and Poppy had returned to her office to complete some overdue paperwork.

Severus retrieved a phial from his pocket, and handed it to Harry. “Take this. It will ease your pain and help you sleep,” he said gruffly.

“Thank you,” Harry said gratefully. One thing about his father, he was uncannily observant; Sometimes, annoyingly so, but at this moment Harry was relieved that Snape had noticed his fatigue and pain, and although the man could grate on his nerves at times, Harry was beginning to appreciate the benefits of having Snape as a father. Of course there were those times where Harry would dearly love to tell the man to stick his potions where the sun don't shine, but now wasn’t one of them. Harry smiled slightly to himself as he drifted off into a deep, lovely, drug-induced sleep.

-----

“Get your arse back in that bed, or I'll put a sticking charm on it,” Severus warned as he caught Harry trying to sneak out the door for the second time that day. Harry was quite annoyed with himself that he had forgotten his invisibility cloak up in the Tower. He was becoming bored with this forced confinement. Honestly...the man was a tyrant! Talk about exaggerating; the man wouldn't let him do anything; anything but blasted homework, that is! Harry was so bored he wanted to scream.

“I'm perfectly fine,” Harry huffed, as he climbed back into bed. Severus had transformed his study into a room for Harry. After all, it appeared that the boy would be residing with him for quite some time, and although Severus wouldn't admit it to himself, he was hoping that Harry would stay here from time to time, even after he returned to the Tower.

“Poppy gave me strict orders that you were to have complete bed rest for at least two days, and after that, gradual return to normal activity, and I intend to follow those instructions to the letter,” Severus said with a determined look on his face. He crossed his arms. “Now...are you going to stay in that bed-” Severus tapped his wand against his hand, and smirked, “-or must I employ other means to enforce your cooperation?”

Harry growled in frustration, as he plonked his head down on his pillow.

“I hate you...you know that?”

“It breaks my heart,” Severus drawled.

When Severus handed Harry yet another phial of potion, Harry groaned. Yeah, it relieved the pain quite well, but Harry was thoroughly sick of sleeping. He couldn't wait until after dinner, when Snape had agreed that Hermione, Ginny and Ron were allowed to visit. Severus was severely limiting his visitors, insisting that Harry needed complete peace and quiet, and maintained that Harry's rambunctious friends were not conducive to that end. Harry, of course, took exception to that description; an argument ensued, and of course Snape won. Harry just could not believe how overprotective the man was being. Honestly! I'm not made of bloody china, Harry thought grumpily, as he drifted off to sleep.

What Harry didn't know was that the potion which Severus gave him, was double strength; ensuring that Harry would be out like a light for the next several hours-- freeing up Severus' time to do a little research into how to rid Harry's system of this Dark Magic.

-----

“Severus.” Dumbledore's twinkling blue eyes widened in surprise. “It has been far too long.”

“Yes Headmaster, it has.” Not long enough, Severus privately thought. As much as he respected and cared for the man, Albus could be incredibly manipulative, and sometimes his penchant for seeing only the best in everyone and every situation, could be positively nauseating. Severus was quite content wallowing in his perpetual nastiness; he really had no desire to be cheery. And the man's fondness for lemon drops and other such sugary confections, had Severus convinced that the man's manic state was spurred on by a persistent sugar rush.

Albus studied Severus' pale, tired features with concern. As usual, the man's intuitive nature grated on Severus' nerves. After all, Severus was a man who wore his emotions close to his chest, and it was very daunting to have the old coot voice his thoughts before Severus could even acknowledge they existed.

Dumbledore's eyes shone with concern. “You're worried about Harry, aren't you Severus?”

Severus narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Why ever would you jump to that conclusion Albus?”

Albus avoided the question. “You are though, aren't you?”

The man was too damned intuitive, Severus thought angrily. “Yes,” he admitted reluctantly.

“May I ask why?” Albus asked gently.

Severus huffed. “Why do I get the feeling that you already know the answer to that question, Albus?”

“Why, whatever do you mean Severus?” Albus asked innocently

“Don't play games with me, old man,” Severus snapped impatiently. “”Or I may have to find some paint thinner.”

Albus' eyebrows shot up. “Fine,” he said quickly. “I may have asked the other portraits to keep, ah-” Albus twirled his long beard nervously, “-to keep an eye on you and Harry.”

Severus eyes flashed angrily. “You had the portraits spy on us?”

If a portrait could possibly blush, then Albus’ did.

“Well,” he hesitated, “spy is a rather strong word.”

Severus lifted an eyebrow. “Oh...and what would you call it then?”

“I'd call it concern over the two people I care most about in the world,” Albus explained.

Severus stared at the portrait for a several minutes, not quite knowing how to respond. Part of him was touched by the apparently sincere sentiment, and the other part of him was extremely annoyed that the man before him, albeit in portrait form, was once again pulling the strings of manipulation, even beyond the veil.

“Yes well,” Severus warned, “you will call off your spies immediately. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself and my son, without your interference; as pure as your motives may be,” he finished acerbically.

“Yes, yes, of course Severus,” Albus assured him. “It's just that as no one has bothered to visit me in awhile, and I'd been hearing rumours about Harry; I was rather worried about him.”

Severus' heart plunged into his stomach. “What sort of rumours are you referring to, Albus?” he asked warily.

“Well, I'd been hearing tales of Harry acting oddly.” At Severus' glare, Albus elaborated. “I'd heard that he was acting rather out of character; that he was having shall we say...fits of ....pique, to put it mildly, and some of the students have been saying that he's not right in the head since he defeated Voldemort. As a matter of fact, some are suggesting that he's possessed with Voldemort's spirit.” Albus threw his hands up in the air. “You know better than anyone else, Severus, how quickly these ridiculous rumours can spread.”

Severus felt his fury rise. How dare anyone suggest that his son was touched in the head? Even though at one point Severus had worried about that very thing. And to suggest that Harry was possessed by Voldemort's spirit, no less, was absolutely preposterous. Of course the reality was no less incredible, he thought acidly.

“There is something else you should be aware of Severus,” Albus continued, snapping Severus out of his reverie.

Severus looked at him expectantly. 'Yes?” he prompted.

Albus fixed him with his piercing blue eyes. “Young Mr. Malfoy has been acting suspiciously as well,” he said hesitantly.

Severus narrowed his eyes. “Elaborate.”

Albus took a moment to dip in his pocket and retrieve a candy and pop it into his mouth. Severus wondered how on earth the man was still able to obtain such confections while trapped in a portrait frame. The afterlife must have its own supply of candy-makers; the thought was rather an irritating one.

“Will you get to the point,” Severus finally snapped impatiently.

Albus looked apologetic. “Oh yes...so sorry, my boy.”

Severus rolled his eyes, and crossed his arms.

“Mr. Malfoy has been seen skulking around outside your office, mine, and Minerva's,” he explained slowly, gauging Severus' reaction.

The wheels of Severus' mind were slowly turning around. It all made sense now. Draco had seemed to turn up at the most inopportune moments. In retrospect, Severus remembered the nasty looks that Draco had seemed to be sending Harry's way. A surge of anger rose up in Severus at the sudden realisation that Draco had probably been responsible for the leak to the Daily Prophet. He clenched his fists till his knuckles turned white. It would seem that he needed to have a talk with his errant Slytherin; and soon. The only problem was that he had no tangible proof to confront the boy with. He couldn't very well accuse Draco of leaking information to the press about his relationship with Harry, without some hard evidence to back him up.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. His head was beginning to throb, and he really didn't need this complication right now. He would have to just keep an eye on Draco, that's all. Wonderful, he thought. I have two difficult teenagers to keep under control; and to keep away from each other, because Severus was certain that if Harry were to get wind of Draco's involvement with Skeeter and the news- leak, then he would be struggling to keep Harry out of Azkaban for murdering the treacherous Slytherin.

Severus was extremely disappointed in Draco. He had always believed that the boy had regarded Severus as a mentor, as someone to whom he could rely on if he needed guidance. Severus had always attempted to let the boy know, actually let all of his Slytherins know, that his door was always open, and that he would lend an ear to their problems, without being overly judgmental.

Although it was obvious that Narcissa and Lucius doted on the boy in many ways, it was equally obvious that Lucius had been determined to mould the boy into a DeathEater, and Draco had been forced to partake in many activities that made the boy uncomfortable, or terrified, such as when the Dark Lord had forced Draco to murder the Headmaster. Draco had not been able to go to his father on such an occasion, as he had been afraid to seem weak to Lucius; but the boy had felt comfortable coming to Severus. Severus had of course, taken the unbreakable vow, to take the pressure off the boy, and he had done everything in his power afterwards to protect the boy from the Dark Lord's wrath.

So where had he gone wrong? Severus agonized over the thought that he had failed the boy. Why did Draco now want to strike back at Severus by leaking the story of his relationship to Potter to the press? Only one explanation came to mind. Draco was jealous of Harry; Jealous of their burgeoning relationship. He supposed that he couldn't blame the boy for that, since Lucius was in prison, and Draco had no other male figure to look up to, or to receive guidance from, but Severus could not tolerate such behaviour, even if the boy was hurting Yes, he would have a little talk with the Slytherin.

After all, Draco had no idea that Severus was a gifted Legilimens. He would teach Draco a lesson he wouldn't soon forget, and then he would make it clear to the Slytherin that even if he had a son now, that did not mean that he would turn his back on the boy. Draco was one of his Slytherins, after all, and his godson, and unless Draco repudiated him, Severus never turned his back on his responsibilities.

“As much as I appreciate your concern, Albus-” Severus' expression said otherwise, "-I'd advise you to call off your spies. I won't tolerate this further intrusion on my privacy.”

Albus had the grace to look ashamed. “Yes, of course Severus,” he agreed. “Now, the reason for your visit?”

“Unfortunately, the rumours about Harry are not so far off the mark,” Severus said regretfully.

Albus gave him an incredulous look. “Whatever do you mean?”

Severus sighed. He really had no desire to recount the whole sordid tale yet again. Nor did he care to admit to Albus how helpless he felt, and didn't quite know how to help his son.

“There were some repercussions to Harry's interactions with the dark magic he used to bring me from the Veil.”

“Such as?” Albus prompted.

Severus took a deep breath. He was not a man who liked to admit weakness, and to debase himself in front of the man, even as a portrait, that he had no idea how to solve a simple problem such as this, was very difficult indeed.

“There was a backlash of Dark Magic, and Harry's mind is now being controlled by Dark thoughts. He has little control over his actions, and along with his mood swings and unpredictable behaviour, I'm at a loss on how to reverse the effects.” Severus admitted reluctatnly.

Albus stared at the man before him in disbelief. He had thought that the rumours were hogwash and had no basis in reality. He'd obviously been wrong, and should have realised that most rumours began from a small seed of truth, and morphed into a vine that twisted and squeezed the life out of the minute grain of truth that had existed to begin with.

“Well, to be honest with you Severus, this is beyond my area of expertise as well, However...” he said quickly, when he noticed Severus' crestfallen expression. “…there is someone who is an expert on such things.”

“Ah, yes of course,” Severus said in sudden realisation. “Slughorn.” He traced his mouth with his long finger. “Why didn't I think of him? Yes...yes that is the answer,” he said thoughtfully.

“Thank you for your help Albus,” he said sincerely. The old coot came in handy at times. He was a bottomless fountain of knowledge. Even if he was extremely manipulating, not to mention, disgustingly chipper all the time.

Severus swirled around, and swept out the door, leaving a dumbfounded Albus in his wake.