"Hey, where have you been?"

As Harry stumbled into the portrait hole, his friends were sitting at the table surrounded by books and notes. Hermione was furiously writing and her eyes kept shifting from the parchment to the book laying in front of her. Ron was doing much of the same except he kept looking at the fire burning in the hearth, distracting himself from the task at hand. Trinti was still reading Everyday Potions from earlier and had looked up when Harry came in unceremoniously.

"Nowhere important. Just thinking. How did the search in the library go? Did you guys find anything about Occulmency?"

"No we didn't Harry but you could try getting a pass into the restricted section from Professor Snape or Professor Dumbledore. I'm sure they would want you to be prepared."

"I'm sure they would but I don't really have a death wish at the moment, thank you."

Ron lifted a quizzical eyebrow. "Did something happen Harry? Just this morning you were gung-ho about finding a book and now you are acting like this will be the death of you?"

"Nothing Ron. I'm fine."

Ron snorted. He was getting tired of Harry always keeping things to himself, almost as much as Trinti was but he just wasn't as vocal about it. Trinti seemed to have that part covered. Harry would talk when he was ready and he knew from having five brothers that pushing someone to talk who was unwilling or uncomfortable wasn't going to guarantee answers. Truthful ones at least. Harry needed to feel like he could trust them and Ron was positive that Harry's trust didn't come as easy as everyone felt that it did. Harry was friendly and from what Ron had seen wouldn't hurt a soul but he could see sometimes the frighten puppy that lurked underneath the surface.

Harry plopped down on the chair in front of Trinti and pulled some of Hermione's notes towards him. Grimacing, he glanced down at them and smiled. She should be a transcriber with the way she wrote down every word the teachers emitted. He wondered what would happen if one day a teacher decided to go off on a tangent, what would Hermione do? Would she realize that she was writing nonsense or would she still merrily write without a clue about what was being said?

"What could possibly be so funny about the proper technique for changing a match into a needle?"

Looking up, Harry stared at Trinti. With a raised eyebrow, she smirked, "Well?"

"Nothing. Just remembering something." Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He started to think about his recent altercation with his father. It is clear that his homework and vigilance with his studies was doing absolutely nothing to help his relationship with Professor Snape. He had no idea about where to go from here. The only thing that he was certain of was that he could not give up. In his letter, James told him that he couldn't. Harry assumed that James must have known Professor Snape on a personal level. What could have his adopted father done to upset the man so terrible that he had to take it out on his own son? The son he doesn't even know about you idiot, Harry berated himself.

Professor Snape undoubtedly believed that he was James' son along with everyone else. Which, frankly, Harry was glad that people believed that. He wanted a father, that much is true, but he was all too happy to have people believe that his father was the brave man who sacrificed his life for him.

As Harry looked up at his friends, he gave a anxious smile. Would Ron abandon him when he knew the truth? That his best friend's true father was not James but the greasy overgrown bat from the dungeons? He knew his best friend hated Professor Snape and that his temper clouded his judgment.

Overwrought with thoughts that constantly plagued him, he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and reflected on things that he so desperately wanted to believe. He wanted to trust his best friend and believe that Ron would never abandon him. He wanted to believe that Ron would not judge him or think less of him because of whose son he was. Above everything else, he wanted to KEEP his best friend. But if Harry had to chose between having a best friend or a father, he knew who would win. Even if his father was a nasty snarky git.

"Guys, I want to tell you something."

XXXX

Severus Snape walked with resolute strides towards his bedroom. He was determined to not dream about anything. Not Lily. And most definitely not the infernal boy-who-lived-to-haunt-him. Some nights, he would take the Dreamless Sleep potion to ensure that he would not dream at all. But alas, the potion cannot be taken everyday. Tonight was one of those nights. But he was determined. His mind was disciplined and he felt that trivial emotions such as fear and worry were beneath him. Thanks to his years as a puppet, he knew that if he could keep the Dark Lord at bay, he could block them out.

However, there was a minuscule part of him that yearned to dream these dreams. They haunted him, distressed him and made him lose countless amounts of sleep but they meant something. He did not know the answers to why he felt this way. But not all feelings have answers.

XXXX

"What do you need to tell us?"

Harry fiddled with the edge of the parchment he was holding. Trinti already knew what he wanted to say but thankfully she acted like she didn't. He felt a kinship with her because her family life, though nothing remotely like his, was nothing to be desired. He wondered if Ron or Hermione could understand the way Trinti had. He had been so used to surviving on his own but he decided to take Trinti's advice and reach out. There were good people out there he knew. And they seemed to want to be there for him but it was difficult to believe that they would stay there. No one ever stayed there with him. He grew up to know that he wasn't worth anybodies time. Time was precious and 'precious' wasn't something that was ever used on him.

His friends sat there silently, waiting for him to gather his thoughts. However, as if sensing hesitation, Hermione took it upon herself to start the conversation for him. To which he was secretly grateful for. He had no thought on how to begin.

"Why have you been so quiet Harry?"

Harry gulped and dropped the parchment on the table. Fixing his eyes on the floor, he mumbled in a voice so diminutive that the others had to lean forward to hear him, "I have been quiet because I have been afraid. I don't know what to say. I have been afraid that if I attempt to speak, everything will come out. Everything I've been dying to say, to tell you. The things I want to say and need to say will spill out without warning, regret or caution. And for months since summer, I haven't been ready to talk."

"And you are ready now?"

"I don't know. I want to stop fighting alone though. I want to be fought for. I have run out of ideas. I had thought I did enough."

"What is it Harry? Just spill it. Nothing can be that catastrophic that we would leave you."

Biting his lip, he decided to bite the bullet and just say it. "Professor Snape is my father."

For a moment the room stayed completely silent and then Ron hastily pushed his chair back from the table and started pacing. Hermione leaned back in her chair with a small knowing smile on her face. Trinti just watched Ron pace back and forth with a scowl on her face as if she couldn't imagine how such information could be so staggering. Harry took a deep breath and looked through his long fringe.

"I know."

Harry's eyes widen with wonder. "How did you know?"

Hermione held up her pointer finger and dashed up to her dormitory. Harry watched Ron pace back and forth. He had been afraid of this. The tension in the air was thick and it unsettled him. His eyes glanced at Trinti, who had stopped watching Ron and was looking at him with sympathy. He tried to smile but her sympathy seemed worse then Ron's unsettling behavior. Sympathy and pity was the same to him and he hated both.

Luckily before the tension became unbearable, Hermione came rushing down the stairs with a book and a photo in her hand. Sucking in a small breath, she handed him the book with her finger held between the pages. She placed it in his lap and opened the book and pointed to a picture of a contented couple.

"I figured it out on my own. I have read about you and have seen pictures of James and Lily Potter. When I met you, you sort of looked…I don't know…off. Like there wasn't something quite right about you. You-"

"Ron! Stop that blasted pacing! Sit down." Trinti narrowed her chilling eyes at Ron who looked like he would like to do nothing more then to throttle her. Nevertheless, he sat down begrudgingly. He looked at Hermione, wordlessly asking her to continue.

"As I was saying, you just didn't look like I thought you would."

Harry's eyes scanned the moving photograph of his mother and James that was forever entombed in this ancient looking book. His heart caught in his throat. He felt something he hadn't felt since these people existed. Starting from the top of his head, an unutterable feeling of love and security enfolded him. As he traced his mother's face, he could just imagine her lulling him to sleep with her soft, kind words. The happiness that showed on her face when she turned to James was reassuring. She was loved dearly before she died; that's all that mattered to Harry.

"I asked Madam Pince if there was any old school archives or places where photographs from previous years was held. She lead me to this old storage room where there is boxes upon boxes of photos and rosters and annual reports…Oh! It was fabulous. I-"

"Hermione."

"Oh sorry, yes. I found a box from the years 71-73, thinking maybe that the books photo wasn't the best quality or something. But what I found was even better then I could have imagined."

She handed him a photo of a small, scrawny, kid that looked inexplicably like him without his eyes. Harry's eyes widen and his lips parted as a small gasp escaped his lips. He surveyed the stringy, pallid boy as he looked at the book on the table while he tapped his lips with his finger. The boy's black eyes narrowed and a curtain of long black hair fell over his face. His hand swiftly grabbed a bowl of a puffer-fish eyes and threw them in the large cauldron. Then suddenly a girl with a curtain of wild, red hair ran in and tugged at his hand and led him out of the frame.

Harry's eyes shot up and met Hermiones. "It's Professor Snape Harry. From his second year. You look so much like him. I'm surprised he hasn't noticed yet. Or anyone else, now that I think about it."

"I had no idea." Trinti reached forward and snatched the photograph from his hands and a cheerless smile crossed her stunning features. She met Harry's eyes and Harry felt a small niggling of a feeling he couldn't understand in his stomach. He opened his hand expectantly and she handed him back the photo. Reluctantly.

"What really appeased my curious suspicions was you. I don't think you realized but you get this look whenever Professor Snape comes around. I don't know how to describe it really…"

Trinti seemed to understand what Hermione was trying to say however. "Hope. Longing. Resolve."

"Yeah. An appeal. I don't think you comprehend that you are doing that."

"So if you knew this whole time…then why didn't you say anything?"

"I figured you would tell me in your own time. Answers come after trust." She reached over and squeezed his hand. "Besides that I didn't really work it all out until not to long ago."

Harry took all what Hermione was saying and let his mind absorb the meaning of her words. He was astounded, frankly. He had no idea that he looked at his father like that. He had no idea that he had been so transparent. What bothered him more was the reality that Hermione figured him out before Professor Snape had.

Harry clutched the small photo to his chest. Trinti is okay. Hermione seems okay. Ron seems sick. Harry sidled his eyes in the direction of his best friend. Ron was sitting on the edge of the chair and looking at Harry with his head inclined sideways. He had his brow gathered in the center and looked to be in deep contemplation.

"Ron?"

"I had my suspicions. I am not overtly obtuse. But I didn't want to think that about you. You're the absolute opposite to what I would imagine Snape's son to be." Spitting the word 'son' out with intensity. He threw his arms up in exasperation. "I mean, come on Harry! He is a right arse to all Gryffindors. You in particular! You may be his son but that doesn't mean he deserves anything from you. Not your love and certainly not your devotion. He hasn't earned it!"

Harry reeled back as if Ron had slapped him. He could feel anger and indignation rolling off of him in waves. It was overpowering. So much so that Harry had to move away from him and the rest of his friends. He felt happy that Ron thought so highly of him but sadden because he didn't seem to understand. How could he?, reasoned Harry.

Hermione's eyes narrowed and she let out a frustrated sigh. This was not how she wanted the conversation to go. They had been waiting for Harry to open up and now that he was Ron was ruining everything. Harry seemed to be distraught but she couldn't tell. His back was turned away from them with his arms crossed. The way his back was hunched suggested that he seemed to be weighing something in his mind. She only hoped that he did not turn away from them for good. If he did, it would break her heart.

"He doesn't know who he is Ron!"

"So what? You believe that if Harry tells him that he will instantly feel concern for him? How can you delude yourself into thinking that? You don't think that do you Harry?"

"No."

"Even Harry doesn't think so."

"So what is it your trying to prove Harry?"

"That he deserves me. That he needs me."

Ron snorted with disgust. "The day Quirrell grows balls is the day he will think that."

Running his fingers through his hair, Harry sighed. He was weary, exhausted, and drained. He regretted bringing this up so late at night but with the start of his extra lessons coming up he knew it couldn't be avoided. Professor Snape was bound to find out the truth eventually and based on what he has seen thus far from the man, he was not going to welcome him with open arms. Most likely, he will be spitting, sneering, and absolutely horrid towards Harry. Harry needed someone there for him when it came to that. He was walking into uncertain and dangerous territory and he couldn't be alone.

He had been walking alone for too long.

XXXXX

Monday morning came to quickly for Severus Snape's liking. With a groan, he sat on the edge of his bed and ruminated on his pending Occlumency lesson with Potter. The boy did not frighten him but made him feel unnerved. While he carefully controlled his outward emotions, inside he felt a hot knot of uncertainty and trepidation. The boy was surely hiding something.

With a horrible forced smile, he yanked his robes on and left the safety of his dungeon room.

XXXX

In a cold sweat, Harry sat straight up. Gulping in air, his hand bunched in a fistful of his pajama top. He couldn't remember what he was dreaming or why he felt so scared.

His eyes caught movement at the edge of his bed. Reaching over for his glasses, he slid them on his face and leaned over to see what had fallen. The picture of his father sat on the rug. He sunk to the floor and stared at the picture. Why am I such a coward? What do I have to fear?

The boy in the image didn't look so frightening as the man he knew now. Harry thumbed the photo and wondered why that was. What had hardened the man? For as long as he could remember, he always pictured his father to be some sort of hero. He could not count the number of times he had stared at the open expanse of sky or into the darkness of his cupboard just picturing his father swooping in to rescue him. Like a valiant knight on a noble white steed. But this man that he saw daily was not that. He was far from noble or valiant. He berated and bullied the children he was entrusted to teach. Harry knew that if he had not gotten that letter from James before he met his father, he would have hated him. He would have never given thought to the hateful teacher who clearly never given a thought about him.

The door to his dorm flew open and a lively Trinti bounded in. Harry quickly stuffed the picture underneath his pillow.

"What the f. Trin?"

Trinti ignored his growl and rude morning greeting. Cheerily, she motioned to his clock and Harry blanched. He was going to be late if he didn't get moving.

"Your late, love. So is everyone in your dorm. I took the liberty of coming to wake you. Now get going and I'll get the rest of these eejits up." Harry grabbed his toiletry kit. As he moved to the showers, Trinti took a running leap and landed on Ron's bed. When he closed the door, he heard a loud bang and multiple shouts and swears. Trinti's barking laughter was the last thing he heard as the water streamed out of the faucet.

XXXX

"Now can anyone tell me what this plant beside me is?"

As expected Hermione's hand shot up as well as Neville's. Hermione was smart but Herbology was Neville's forte.

"Yes Mr. Longbottom?"

In a timid voice, Neville answered, "Devil's Snare, Professor."

"Precisely. Ten points to Gryffindor. Now Devil's Snare, as you can see, is composed of a mass of soft, springy tendrils and vines that have a sense of touch. The vines and tendrils ensnare anyone who touches it, binding their arms and legs and eventually choking them. Hence its name. The harder someone struggles against Devil's Snare, the faster and tighter the vines bind the victim. Where does Devil's Snare prefer to grow?"

This time Trinti raised her hand eagerly. Malfoy, who was standing off to the side of her, mimicked her motions causing the other Slytherins around him to snicker and jeer.

"Yes Miss Brown?"

"Devil's Snare prefers to grow in dark, damp areas. So therefore, fire will drive it away from its victims."

"Correct! Give yourself another ten points." Beaming Trinti looked over at Malfoy and stuck her tongue out. Malfoy glared at her and turned back to the lesson.

After Professor Sprout assigned them a foot of parchment on Devil's Snare and ways to repel the dangerous plant, she dismissed them. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Trinti followed their classmates out the door towards the castle for lunch.

Because Harry and Ron woke up late this morning, they had missed breakfast. They readily walked faster then the girls. Therefore they missed Malfoy stepping in front Trinti and Hermione.

"Move Malfoy," said Trinti contemptuously. Hermione had her hands in her pockets, holding tightly onto her wand.

"Or what? Going to get your father ?"

Trinti moved forward and raised her palm as if to smack Malfoy but Hermione grabbed on to her arm.

"Leave them alone."

"Ah. Weasel. What are you going to do? It's not like your rubbish wand actually works. No, actually it probably does. Your just to brainless to know how to do anything with it. Win-gar-dium Le-vi-O-sa." Malfoy mimicked Hermione's high pitch tone of voice and bounced with his wand arm waving madly.

Harry, who had finally noticed his friends weren't beside him, turned around and saw the scene behind him. He jogged back and looked at Trinti's pale face and glittering eyes and Ron's red-tipped ears and knew that if he didn't handle this situation fast then things would turn ugly quickly.

"MALFOY! OH MY! I HAVE MISSED YOU!" Harry placed a maniac grin on his face and threw his arms around Malfoy.

After Malfoy got over his shock, he threw Harry off of him and said, "Don't ever touch me like that ever again."

Assuming a look of innocent confusion, Harry peered up at Malfoy and said, "But-but-but I thought we had something. Something special!" Harry scrambled up off the ground and said in a voice riddled with moral offence, "You said you loved me! You lied to me!"

Malfoy flushed and his nose scrunched up as if he smelled something disgusting. Harry waggled his eyebrows and watched in satisfaction as Malfoy looked uncomfortable. He turned on his heel and marched away from Harry.

Harry smirked and turned to look at his friends. Hermione was holding her side, doubled over with laughter. Ron was leaning on her shoulder because he couldn't seem to hold himself up. And Trinti was rolling around on the ground, getting leaves in her hair, practically wheezing.

"Brillant, mate. Sheer brillance!"

Harry helped Trinti up and they walked towards the Great Hall. Hermione and Trinti bursting out in giggles from time to time.

XXXX

With each passing hour, Harry felt the weight on in his stomach get heavier and heavier. He tried to focus on his homework but his mind kept wandering to his first Occlumency lesson. He had no idea what it was or why he needed it. He didn't remember what happened that night during detention.

Harry sighed and slammed his head down on the table.

"That bad huh?"

Without looking up, Harry mumbled something.

"Sorry, mate. Didn't catch that."

Harry tiredly turned his head to the side to stare at Ron. How he wished he could switch places with him for one day. Just one day.

"Just worried. I know he is going to tear me limb from limb."

"Don't you think that that is an exaggeration?"

Harry's eyes swept towards the armchair where Trinti was lounging, snapping her gum and blowing bubbles.

"Do you?"

"Nope. You'll most definitely get torn limb from limb…Dying a horrible, excruciating death. I can't believe Dumbledore assigned these lessons. Leaving you alone with a rabid killer. How thoughtless of him."

Harry curled his lip up and snarled.

"Hey mate. That looks incredibly creepy, just so you know."

"I agree Weasley. He looks to much like a particular bat."

Ron snorted and busied himself with throwing a ball of parchment into the air and catching it.

"Don't worry about it Harry. Everything will go just fine."

"Thanks, Hermione."

Hermione beamed and buried her nose back in her book. Trinti popped her gum and blew another bubble. Harry wished that he could have no worries like his friends.

"I think you should tell him Harry. Probably tonight. Since you guys are going to be spending all this quality time together then what better way to spend it then in an a honest, open atmosphere?"

Harry looked at Trinti incredulously.

"Yeah right."

"I tell you, like I have been saying this whole time. Snape hates dishonesty. He is going to most likely hate the news. And his reaction will suck but he will have to admit to himself that you have not lied to him. Honesty leads to respect."

"Ha. Like Snape ever will respect anyone but himself, his potions and his slimy, snakey Slytherins." Ron threw the ball of parchment at Trinti and thumped her right in the face.

"Oi. You dim-witted prat!"

"That's for this morning. Do you have any idea what it was like to wake up and see YOU standing there?"

"A bloody blessing, you arse. Ti é piaciuto!" She winked.

"GUYS! This isn't helping Harry."

"Sorry, love."

"Sorry."

Harry rolled his eyes at his friend's antics. As annoying as they were, they took Professor Snape's lessons from his mind for a bit.

XXXX

Severus Snape sat in the shadows of his office, waiting for the ungrateful brat to arrive.

At six o'clock that evening, he heard a soft knock on his door and he breathed out a low, "Come."

He watched the extremely small and extraordinarily pale boy slither in and quietly shut the door. The young child's eyes darted from the shelves with hundreds of glass jars that lined them to the cupboard full of potion ingredients then towards his desk where the headmaster's pensive sat. Severus lips thinned. He knew what the child was doing. It's something he did when he was young. The idiot boy was looking for signs of danger.

He moved into the light and Harry looked quickly up at him, startled. Realizing the professor was pointing to the chair at the opposite to his desk, he moved towards it, tripping slightly. When his father had sat down, Harry sat down. His father's cold black eyes fixed unblinkingly upon him and he stilled even more, afraid to move. Harry studied his father's face and felt his apprehension increase as he discerned the loathing look cast in his direction. His heart dropped.

"Well, you know why you are here. The headmaster has asked me to teach you Occlumency. You proved yourself acceptable in Potions. Let us hope that you will accomplish this in the same manner."

"Yes sir," Harry whispered.

"Occlumency is the magical defense of the mind against external penetration. If learned properly, your mind shall be sealed against intrusion and influence."

Harry gulped. "Why does Professor Dumbledore think I need it, sir?" Harry's mind raced. Intrusion? Influence?

Severus lips curled, "Due to the unfortunate detention incident on Halloween, the headmaster has come to conclusion that you need these lessons. He has shared with me your views as to what happened that night and I find that I am not surprised. Your mind was a impaired greatly. To find that you do not remember a thing only confirms the obvious."

"What happened that night, sir?" Harry held his breath, wondering if his father would actually tell him.

"I believe I have already informed you of all you shall need to know on the subject of the incident. Now, I am highly skilled at Legilimency. Am I correct in assuming that you have no clue as to what that is?"

"No, sir."

"Very well," Severus' jerked his head irritability. "Legilimency is the ability to extract feelings and memories from another person's mind."

"You mean read minds?" Harry's eyes widened and winced. His worst fears being confirmed.

Severus' eyes narrowed and he spoke in a low dangerous voice. "No, Potter. You are far too young and arrogant to understand the distinctions of the mind. The mind is not a book. One cannot 'read' it. Thoughts are not etched on the inside of the skulls, to be perused and examined by any invader. The mind is a complex and many layered thing. However, for those select few…," He tapped his long tapered fingers against the desk and Harry watched each finger as though fascinated. "Those who are skilled at Occlumency are able to shut down those feelings and memories that contradict lies and are able to utter falsehoods without detection."

Harry felt sick to his stomach. The one person that he wanted to keep his secrets from would be the one who delved into his mind and sorted through his thoughts. Harry closed his eyes as the room started to sway. This can't be happening, Harry whimpered. Harry wanted to run and never look back. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen..

"S-s-so, I need to learn how to shut down my emotions and guard my memories so that whatever happened that night won't happen again?"

"Indeed."

Severus' got up swiftly and Harry winced as his father gently picked up the Pensive from the desk and moved it to one of the shelves behind it. As his back was turned, he softly stated, " Stand up and take out your wand Mr. Potter."

Harry complied and stood stiffly in an open space behind the chair. Severus studied the boy and noticed the boy was positioned in such a way that if Severus rose a hand to strike him, he would be able to dodge it and move quickly out of the office. The boy tensed as Severus took out his wand and waved it to the door, warding it.

"You may use your wand to defend yourself in any way you can think of," Severus ordered.

Harry was frozen in fear. "But sir, I do not know what you are going to do."

"I am going to attempt to break into your mind. Prepare yourself!….Legilimens!"

Before Harry even had a chance to sort his thoughts, his father presence invaded his mind and he yelled.

He was four and his aunt was yelling at him for burning the toast and holding his arm down on the hot stove burner….

He was six and Dudley was holding his head in the toilet on his first day of primary…all the kids laughed at his wet clothes and hair….

No. No! Stop, please….

But the attack didn't stop.

"Nasty, little freak."

His uncles hot breathing on his neck….the clunk of a belt hitting the floor….

"STOP!"

Breathing heavily, he was crouched on the floor shaking with pent up emotion. He did not want to look at his father.

"Mr. Potter. If you are quite done with the theatrics, please stand up so we can continue."

Harry got to his feet unsteadily. Severus was watching the boy with a mask of cool indifference. Ah, bravery at last.

Harry set his mouth in a line and quickly set his face in an impenetrable expression. Raising an eyebrow at the boy's antics, he slowly raised his wand and hissed, "Again. Legilimens!"

He was looking out at the small crack of light from underneath the cupboard door….listening to the clinking of cutlery…holding his groaning stomach…

He was watching his friends laughing at his handling of Malfoy…

He was asking Percy about who was that man at the head table and being confused by the look of hate the man gave him…

He was laying on the cold, dark floor of the dreary shack reading a letter from James…

To his horror, he felt his father pressing further into the memory, trying to view the whole thing. He pushed his hands out and connected with soft fabric. He pushed but the presence in his mind was unrelenting.

'…I wanted revenge but seeing your mother so distraught, I vowed to claim the child as my own, and raise him to be everything that your real father would hate. I feel ashamed for what I have done for revenge. So I must ask you to do a favor for me. Harry, I implore you to tell him, tell your father of your existence. Please correct a prideful man's mistake….' Harry knew it was coming; he braced himself.

'The name of your biological father, Harry, is Severus Snape.'

The presence retracted from his mind blindingly fast. Harry didn't have a chance to recover before he felt hands seizing his robes and throwing him to the floor.

The world tilted and he looked up at his father. Severus was standing there looking at the spot where Harry once was with his hand still in front of him. A muscle twitched unpleasantly in the corner of his mouth and he clenched his hand even tighter. He looked to be at the border between completely losing it and self-control.

"Potter," he said quietly.

Tentatively, Harry met his father's eyes from underneath his long fringe.

"Get up!" Severus barked. Harry rushed up and braced himself for the inevitable 'spitting, sneering, and horrible behavior'. Harry watched a vein at his father's greasy temple flickering horribly; the edges of his sallow face turning a nasty brick color.

"Sir, I-"

"SILENCE, YOU STUPID BOY!," Severus' roared looking suddenly deranged. "GET. OUT. NOW!" The vein flickering even more until it was practically pulsing.

Harry seemed to be frozen on the spot. His feet had stopped working. Everything stopped working.

Severus' moved forward, his robes billowing out behind him and grabbed Harry's shoulder in a pincer like grip. His fingers dug into his shoulder and that jolted Harry out of his stupor.

Severus pulled Harry toward him till their faces were inches apart. Baring his yellowish, uneven teeth, and his eyes glinting madly, he hissed, "Get out."

The door banged open and Severus propelled the boy out the door.

Harry closed his eyes as he felt the swoop of the door slamming in his face.