Harry swallowed the lump in his throat, and wiped his sweaty palms on his bath robe. He choked down his suffocating fear and rapped on the door a little harder than he'd planned on; his knuckles throbbed from the punishing blow. Rubbing his bruised hand, Harry winced. It was going to hurt like a bugger tomorrow. At the moment however, all he could feel was the numbness and hollowness washing over him like a bitter wind.

The door swung open abruptly, revealing an ashen-faced Severus, dressed in a dark green bath robe, staring down at him. Harry felt a twang of guilt when he saw the dark shadows and strained expression on his father's face. The man was obviously exhausted and Harry knew that despite his stoic denial, that Severus was beginning to feel the stress of the past few weeks. It couldn't be easy after all, Harry realised guiltily, having a son who had been possessed by Dark Magic, and whose behaviour had been erratic and unpredictable. He had pushed the man past the point of endurance. For a man who had prided himself on his impatience, Severus had been surprisingly tolerant.

Severus' eyes crinkled in concern. "Harry? What's wrong? Did you have another nightmare?"

Harry nodded. "But it's okay," he said quickly. 'I'm sorry for disturbing you. I'll let you get back to sleep."

Harry felt a gentle hand clamp down on his shoulder, as he turned around to leave.

"Harry," Severus said softly. "Look at me," he commanded gently.

Harry looked up into his father's concerned eyes.

Severus studied his son's pale face and he felt that increasingly familiar flutter of concern. He looked much younger than seventeen, clad only in too baggy striped pyjamas that hung off his frail frame. The boy looked so small and childlike, and a feeling of fierce protectiveness overcame him.

"Come, I'll make some tea and we'll talk," he said as he gently guided Harry into the parlour and motioned for him to sit on the couch.

He took in Harry's shivering form, and grabbed the blanket that was draped on the back of the couch, and handed it to Harry, who looked up at him gratefully.

"Thanks…”

Severus nodded, but threw a couple of more logs into the fireplace. He mumbled a soft "Incendio" and the smouldering embers beneath erupted into crackling flames, licking the fresh logs until Harry could feel his toes tingle as the warmth crept back into his chilled skin.

Severus lifted an eyebrow at Harry's bare feet.

Harry smiled sheepishly at him and shrugged his shoulders. Putting on slippers had been the last thing on his mind.

"Just a minute," Severus flicked his wand and Harry heard a swooshing sound in back of him. and then a pair of maroon slippers clipped Harry in the ear, before landing on the thick, plush carpeting before his feet.

Harry clutched his throbbing ear, and glared at his father.

Severus smirked. He motioned with his eyes for Harry to put his slippers on.

Harry huffed, and slid his feet in the slippers.

The corners of Severus' mouth lifted slightly. "I'll go make some tea."

Harry could feel some of the tension lift from his clenched shoulders. He nodded.

"Here."

Harry's eyelids fluttered open.

Severus nudged a steaming cup of tea into Harry's clasped hands.

Harry unfurled his fingers and grasped on tightly to the cup, with trembling hands.

"Thanks," Harry whispered. "What's in this?" he asked curiously.

Severus took a seat on the chair opposite to Harry, and cradled his teacup. "Chamomile, Lavender and Passion Flower. Nature's natural relaxants," Severus explained.

Although Harry's mind was far from eased from the hellish visions of his dreams, the organic properties of the herbal tea were beginning to act as a muscle relaxant and the tension loosened up slightly.

Severus peered at him from over the teacup. The boy looks slightly more relaxed, he thought, but the large emerald eyes shadowed by dark smudges underneath, contrasted starkly against the pale skin.

"So...your dream?" Severus prodded.

Harry took a deep breath and clanked his teacup down on the burnished wood of the antique coffee table. "I don't understand. I thought this was all because of the Dark Magic. How could this be happening?"

"You've had some very traumatic experiences in your life Harry. No one is immune to nightmares, Dark Magic or no. They could simply be a manifestation of all the stress and anxiety you've been experiencing for the past several weeks.”

"No, this was not an ordinary dream Severus. Of that I'm sure," Harry said determinedly. "I've had too many dreams, both normal and otherwise, not to know the difference. There was something really evil about this dream."

Severus placed his cup on the table as well, and leant forward slightly. "Harry, I need you to tell me about your dream, and try to remember every detail, no matter how inconsequential it may seem."

Harry took a deep breath and steeled himself before he was assaulted with the horrifying images swirling through his mind.

"The first dream I had was worse," he explained. "It was so creepy and I felt sort of like I'd been near a Dementor; as though all the happiness had been sucked out of me."

Severus' eyes widened in surprise. "Do you remember the details of the dream, or was it more of a feeling?"

Harry shuddered. "Oh no, trust me. It was way more than just a feeling. I remember every fine, creepy detail of it."

"It's strange but, it was like I was in a penseived memory, and not a dream. It was as though I was there in the room, but they couldn't see me. It sounds crazy, I could feel everyone's emotions and hear everyone's thoughts, but it wasn't like when I used to have visions with Voldemort. I wasn't inside their heads…”

Severus looked at Harry thoughtfully. "Where did the dream take place?"

Harry tensed up again. "I don't know, but I think that it was some sort of cabin in the woods, and there was this old man; he was at the door to the cabin, talking with a woman. I don't know...but I think the man was a Muggle," he said with sudden realisation.

"But the woman, she had a wand in her hand. She was definitely a witch. And the man, he started threatening her, and then he said something strange, about--" Harry felt tingles down his spine just thinking about the sickening smell of blood...

Severus' concern heightened when Harry's face paled.

Harry stood up abruptly, and clutched his stomach. "I think I'm going to be si-" He ran to the toilet.

Harry wretched until his throat was parched and raw. He lifted his head from where it hovered over the rim of the toilet, as the hollow sound of a light knock echoed on the walls of the bathroom.

"Harry, are you alright?" Severus' husky voice came through the slightly opened door.

"Yeah," Harry croaked.

"I'll get you something to settle your stomach." Harry grunted, "Thanks."

He forced himself up off of the cold bathroom floor and stared at himself in the mirror.

Harry stared wide-eyed at his deathly-pale complexion. I look ghastly, he thought, and then laughed hysterically. Now was definitely not the time for vanity. He splashed cool water on his face and grabbed the green face-towel hanging on the hook. He patted his face softly with the plush towel, and hung it back on the hook.

"Drink it all," Severus instructed when Harry came back into the room, his face as pale as sour milk, and his eyes as glassy as marbles.

Harry eyed the steaming cup of potion sitting on the coffee table with distaste, but obeyed.

The pungent odour made his eyes water, but he pinched his nose and drank it quickly. He thought that it was ironic that something that was supposed to alleviate nausea, could taste so horrible that it made you want to vomit.

"Why do all these Potions taste so bloody horrible?" Harry asked in disgust.

Severus raised an eyebrow. "What did you expect--that it would taste like strawberries or bananas?" he sneered.

Harry scrunched up his face. "Well no, but it doesn't have to taste like cow dung either?"

Severus quirked his lips. "Well, actually, one of the principle ingredients is-"

At Harry's horrified look, Severus chuckled.

Harry scowled at him.

"So, are you ready to continue?" Severus asked gently.

Harry sat back down on the couch and raked his fingers nervously through his hair. "Yeah, as ready as I'll ever be,'" he said reluctantly.

"So, you said something about a man threatening a woman, and saying something strange," Severus prodded.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, something about-" Harry shivered. "-something about blood and feathers, and he accused her son of being involved. And then the dream sort of shifted to this guy sitting in front of a fire, and there were-uh, feathers and blood all over the ground and, oh God there was blood on his face, and-" Harry paled again. "-he smelled like blood." Harry was thankful that he'd had the anti-nausea potion, otherwise he'd surely be bent over the toilet bowl again.

Severus looked thoughtful. "Sounds reminiscent of some sort of sacrificial Dark Magic."

"Yeah, that's exactly what it felt like," Harry agreed.

"I need to think about this Harry. I'm not convinced that it's more than a psychological reaction to all that you've experienced for the past several weeks. However-" he added at Harry's obvious agitation, “-we will explore this further"

Harry worried his lip. "So you don't think that it has anything to do with the Dark Magic then?"

"No," Severus said firmly. "The White Magic would have cleansed any traces of Dark Magic away."

"How can you be so sure?" Harry asked, unconvinced.

Harry watched in confusion as Severus began to unbutton his shirt cuff. Severus turned his arm around slowly.

Harry's eyes widened when he saw the smooth, flawless skin where the Dark Mark had once stood.

He reached over and ran his hand over the pale skin, causing the dark, fine hairs to rise, and looked up at Severus. "Your Mark," he whispered. "It's gone. But how? I don't understand."

"I discussed this somewhat with Horace and Minerva last night, and we came to the conclusion that much as the Dark Ritual had residual effects on your soul, tainting it with Dark Magic when you invoked the Horcrux, the powerful White Magic resulted in a similar backlash, and seems to have cleansed my soul as well. Not only did my Dark Mark disappear, but I had several other scars caused by Dark Magic, that adorned my body, and they are gone as well."

Harry's jaw dropped. "But that's wonderful. Now, you can be free, you don't have to feel gu-"

"No," Severus said harshy. "That does not excuse me of my sins, Harry."

"But Severus, you are said yourself that your soul was cleansed," Harry argued.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. "No Harry," Severus insisted with a pained expression. "It's not that simple."

"Don't you think that it's time that you forgave yourself, Severus?"

"You have no idea of the sins I've committed."

"I think that I've got some idea."

"You are but a naive, foolish child if you think that all that I've done can be erased with a simple spell," Severus spat.

Harry looked hurt, and Severus felt a twinge of guilt.

"Harry, I wasn't a Death Eater in name only. I've done things that-"

"Don’t treat me like a child, Severus," Harry said angrily. "I know that you've probably done things that you're not proud of."

"There is no probably about it Harry," Severus said in a hard voice. "I've done things that would make your fingernails curl."

"That's in the past," Harry argued. "You're a different man now."

"And you think that excuses what I've done, Potter?" Severus demanded harshly.

"No, but-"

"I'm not James Potter. I'm not a hero, and I'm not a noble Gryffindor," Severus sneered.

"How can you say that after what you've told me about my fa-, uh-about James?" Harry argued. "It doesn't exactly sound like he was innocent either."

Harry jumped when Severus slammed his hand down on the table.

"Do you think that anything that Potter's done even comes close to what I've done? Potter was an arrogant, bullying bastard at fifteen, but I was a-"

Severus rose and went to stand by the window, and stared unseeingly at the snow swirling to the ground.

"I wasn't fifteen Harry. I knew better. I'm a murderer."

Harry went to stand by Severus' side, and touched his shoulder lightly. "No, you're a good man Severus. A good man who has paid for his mistakes."

Severus' heart lurched as he stared into his young son's face. "No Harry," he whispered. "I'm not now, nor have ever been a good man."

"That's not true Severus," Harry said softly. "You've more than made up for anything you've done in the past."

Looking deeply into Harry's trusting, naive face, Severus wished more than anything that he could believe what Harry was saying; that he could be what Harry wanted him to be.

"Tell that to the families whose loved ones are gone forever, Harry. Tell that to the children who are now orphans because of me.”

Although Severus was considerably taller than him, Harry fisted Severus' robes angrily.

"How about I tell you something? How about I tell you what I see Severus. I see a man who has protected me and has sacrificed his life for others. I see a man who is brave and incredibly strong and a man who never gives himself a break. You're so determined to hate yourself and to make everyone else hate you too, that you push everyone away."

"You know Dumbledore was right, Severus,” he added soflty. “It's too bad that you've never let others see the better man.”

Looking into those endless pools of green that so reminded him of Lily, Severus again felt that overwhelming feeling of pride that this boy, his son, could be possibly be a part of him.

"You are so much like your mother," he whispered. He gently carded his fingers through Harry's hair, and then removed his hand quickly. "So forgiving…"

Harry pleaded with his eyes for Severus to forgive himself.

Suddenly Severus felt extremely weary. This was rather a heavy conversation for the middle of the night.

"I don't need to speak with anyone. You're my father, and I, uh-care about you," Harry said awkwardly.

Severus wanted to say the words back, but they wouldn't come out. Instead,he again put a hand on Harry's shoulder and gently squeezed it.

He nodded. "Come, I think perhaps both of us could use some sleep."

Harry blanched at the mention of the word sleep.

"I'll give you something to suppress your dreams, and you should have a restful sleep."

Harry looked up at him with bleary eyes. "I hope so."

---------

Harry woke up the next morning, feeling as though he'd been run over by a lorry. True, he hadn't had any more dreams, but he still felt drained emotionally, and he was thankful that it was Saturday, and there weren't any classes today. It was also the day he was supposed to move back to the Tower and Harry felt incredibly ambiguous about it. What if he woke up with another dream? Of course, Harry wasn't a stranger to nightmares, and he'd suffered many a night waking up, covered in beads of perspiration and tangled in his bedclothes, and handled it by himself.

Harry had to admit though, it had been wonderful to have Severus there last night to lean on and not feel so alone; it was a foreign feeling for Harry to open up to anyone and admit to what he believed was a weakness. Harry was nothing, if not self-sufficient, and possibly only second in stubbornness, and self-recriminations to his father. Harry realised that he was a hypocrite, after the lecture he'd given his father about not being so hard on himself and forgiving himself. He was more like his father than he was willing to admit.

Harry entered the kitchen a few minutes later, the bright sunlight filtering in through the dingy dungeon windows assaulted his tired eyes, making them water.

"How long have you been up?" Harry asked Severus as he rubbed his gritty eyes.

The man was fully-dressed, pale as a sheet, with bloodshot eyes and bent over the kitchen table, scratching his quill furiously upon a stack of parchments.

Severus looked up. "I never really slept after our talk."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "Why didn't you take something to sleep also? You look like hell, Severus."

Severus raised his eyebrows.

Harry flushed. "Uh, I mean, you look tired."

Severus nodded. "I shall perhaps have a nap later. Grading papers always makes me tired."

Harry smiled. "That bad?"

Severus scowled. "The quality of this work is atrocious. I believe I'm wasting my time trying to teach students who feel that putting in half an effort is acceptable."

He put his quill down, and glared at Harry. "Speaking of which, I believe you and I will be having a discussion about your grades."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked defensively. "My grades are fine."

"Oh really? From what Minerva has told me, you received a troll on your last two exams, and failed to turn in your most recent assignment." He picked up a parchment with red scribble on it. ""And this essay looks like it was written by a third year."

"I can't believe that you're bringing this up now," Harry said angrily. He pulled open the ice-box and poured himself some pumpkin juice. "You know that I've been kind of preoccupied lately. Can't you give me a break?" he huffed.

Severus folded his hands together and leant his chin on top, as he studied Harry's flushed face. "If your grades had been stellar in previous years, I would agree that perhaps the reason for your decline is recent events, but I've realised that I have grossly underestimated you, Harry. With a little more effort, you could give Miss Granger a run for her money, but you choose to hand in sub-standard work. I've realised these past few weeks, living with you, that you are much more intelligent than you give yourself credit for."

Harry almost spit out his pumpkin juice. Snape was actually saying that he was intelligent? After years of degrading him, and making him feel worthless, the man was actually saying that he wasn't as incompetent as he'd believed?

Harry scratched his head. "Uh, thank you--I think."

"Yes, well don't go getting all big-headed. You need to apply yourself more if you wish to become an Auror. This work is unacceptable. I believe I've been too lenient with you."

Harry looked at him in disbelief.

Severus shoved the parchments aside, and stood up. "Why don't you get washed up, and we'll head on to the Great Hall for breakfast."

"Yeah, I think a shower would do me good," Harry agreed.

He started to head down the hall towards the lavatory, but turned around as realisation hit him.

"You know, I was thinking. I don't know if I can handle all the staring and whispering this morning. Do you think maybe we can skip the Great Hall and just eat here?"

"You can't hide forever, Harry. It's best to face this head on and deal with it. As I said before, it won't be long before this will all be yesterday's news and they'll focus their attention on other matters."

Harry squared his shoulders. "Yeah, you're right. I mean, what's the worst they can do? Sticks and stones and all that..."

Severus looked at Harry's departing figure thoughtfully. He wasn't as confident as he'd made the boy believe. He knew there was no danger from the Gryffindors, but he wasn't as certain that his Slytherins were going to be as mature. Severus knew that Harry was more than capable of defending himself, and was a strong wizard, but if a group of Slytherins confronted him while he was on his own, he would be at a disadvantage. He would definitely be having a little chat with his House about their recent behaviour.

-----------

Harry held his head up high as he walked into the Great Hall, and tried to ignore the stares and whispers.

Severus nodded in encouragement as he walked past Harry towards the Staff table. He gave a stern look to his Slytherins as he walked past, and most of them got the message. Still others made a show of submission, but secretly plotted to find ways to make their least favourite Gryffindor's life miserable.

Ginny shook her head. It still took a moment to wrap herself around the idea that this stranger was really Harry. She gave him a small, warm smile though and her heart beat faster, when he smiled back and his green eyes shone with affection.

"Hi," he said awkwardly. He wanted so badly to kiss her, but he felt it best to let Ginny take the lead until she felt a little more comfortable with his new appearance.

Ginny looked at him shyly and gently pulled him closer. She gave him a light, warm kiss and blushed slightly at her own boldness. This was crazy; she felt like they were strangers on their first date!

"So Harry, you moving back today?" Ron said with his mouth full. Hermione gave him an admonishing look.

Trust Ron to ruin a perfectly romantic moment. Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes Ron, I am."

Ron's face broke out in a grin. "This party's going to be great."

Ginny and Hermione exchanged worried looks.

"Yeah, I can't wait," Harry agreed. He desperately needed something to take his mind off of his nightmares. He thought maybe he might follow Severus' example and have a little nap before the party tonight. He was determined to enjoy himself and just have fun for once in his life, and hang out with his friends.

------

"Ron, who are all these people?" Hermione's voice rose shrilly, as she tried to speak over the blaring music. The walls of the common room rumbled to the rhythm of the booming bass.

"Just a few friends," Ron slurred. He tried to shove a bottle of firewhiskey into Hermione's hands; she jammed it back into his chest with a look of disgust.

There definitely weren't just Gryffindors here, she surmised. And what was worrisome is that many were definitely not seventh years, and definitely not of age. As a prefect, she was torn between restoring order, and pulling the plug on the party, and loyalty towards her boyfriend and best friend. She was sorely tempted to report them; if only for their own good. She looked over at Harry, and just happened to catch Seamus shoving something that looked like a thin cigarette into Harry's mouth. Her nostrils flared when she recognised the distinct odour of marijuana.

She went over and yanked the joint from Harry's mouth.

"What the hell do you think that you're doing Harry?” she asked angrily.

Ginny who had had been trying to wrestle her way through the crowd, looked at Harry disapprovingly as well. "Seamus are you out of your mind bringing that here? Those are Muggle Drugs." She looked at Harry disappointedly. "How could you Harry?" And she stomped off angrily out of the Common Room.

"Ginny, wait--you don't understand," Harry yelled after her, but swayed and almost fell over. He was on his fourth firewhiskey and because of his small frame, the liquor had affected him more adversely than he realised."

He hadn't really planned on drinking so much, and he definitely hadn't wanted to try the drugs, but Seamus had been quite persistent and Harry's powers of resistance were weakened by this point. All the events of the past few weeks caught up with him, and he only wanted to make the pain, and the frustration go away. He just wanted to have fun and be a normal teenager.

Hermione shoved Harry back onto the couch when he started to sway and his head swam with dizziness. She awarded Ron and Harry with one last disapproving, disgusted look and followed Ginny out the door.

Ron plonked himself down on the couch next to Harry. "D-on't wo--rry mate, th-ey'll get o-over it," he slurred his words, and slung his arm over Harry's shoulders, making the smaller boy almost topple over.

Harry smiled at Ron, and nodded his head. He knew somewhere in the back of his mind, that this wasn't good; not good at all, but for the life of him he couldn't figure out why.

When the music halted abruptly, and Harry looked up to see a tall, white-faced, tight-lipped Snape standing in the doorway with his arms crossed and a murderous look on his face, Harry suddenly knew why this wasn't good.