For several days after Severus' second session with Healer Sandrilas, things seemed to be going well. He had placed the Monitoring Charm over Harry's room, though Harry was not aware of it, Severus didn't want him to know for fear the boy might feel that he was snooping or something, he knew how much Harry valued his newfound privacy. He also drank the draught Sandrilas had recommended and found his sleep undisturbed. Getting enough sleep put him in a much better temper, and decreased his anxiety threefold.

He also gave Harry the worry stone, explained how it was used, and the two of them took time either in the evenings or mornings to sit quietly and use it, and it worked wonderfully. Harry became less inclined to argue over little things like completing his schoolwork and Severus became more lenient when Harry left the house to hang out with Paul, his new friend down the street, and happened to come in a bit later than normal.

"How about if I call you if I'm going to be late or maybe you call me if you see I'm not home by four-thirty or whatever?" Harry suggested over dinner one evening.

"Yes, that will work fine. Do you have Paul's number?"

"Uh, no, but I can get it."

"What do you do all day with him, if you don't mind my asking?" Severus queried, he'd been told by Alec that he needed to express more interest in things Harry was doing, so the boy could see that he cared about things other than schoolwork and potion making and his health.

Harry shrugged. "Err . . .we play cricket and sometimes a little football. Once we got together with some of his other friends that live nearby and played Capture the Flag. That was fun. Sometimes we play video games and his mum makes us lunch or some snack. Her name's Trudy. She works from her home as a make-up consultant. She was impressed that I have a Headmaster for a father."

Severus snorted. "I hope you told her that it was a recent appointment."

"I did. She was still impressed. Said she barely finished secondary school and since then she's either been working or taking care of her kids. Paul has an older sister at university and a younger brother away at boarding school."

"I see. Perhaps you could bring him around one afternoon and he could meet me and have lunch here. So I'm not a complete figure of mystery." Severus prompted.

"You're not. He's seen you gardening the front walk," Harry said, chuckling. "Maybe I'll ask him over in a couple of days. But what am I going to do about my room, Da?"

"What do you mean? What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing, except it's not really like a normal Muggle kid's room. No TV, no game system, no computer." Harry explained.

His father arched an eyebrow. "Is this a subtle hint that you would like a few of those things?"

Harry hesitated. He did enjoy playing Paul's game system a lot. And some of the TV programmes he watched were neat also. "Umm . . .well . . .a TV would be good."

"Fine. We'll go out shopping for one after lunch. We'll take the train to York, to one of the big electronics stores they have over there, and have the TV and the game system and whatever else you want shipped here express."

"But that's so expensive! You don't have to, Da. I can always just . . .cast a few illusions and then we can spend the day playing outside."

Severus shook his head. "Harry, I told you once before, worrying about money is my job, not yours. I can afford the expense and I see no reason for you not to have the best of both worlds, if that is what you wish. Growing up, I would have killed to have my own TV set in my room. Lily did, and I always envied her that." He smiled wryly. "Of course, bossy Petunia always had to come and watch her soaps on it and kicked us out, since she shared the TV with Lily. Still, it was an unheard of luxury in my house. We had one old set and my father monopolized it and watched his rugby and boxing on it. I was forbidden to touch it."

"Your dad was a real arsehole and a total bastard," Harry said. Then he clamped a hand over his mouth. Aww, hell! Now I'm in for it. "Sorry, sir. I didn't mean to. No soap, please?"

Severus' mouth twitched at the way Harry was fixing him with his big green eyes, like a puppy begging for mercy. "I'll let it go, because what you said was nothing but the truth. He was. But next time I won't be so kind. So watch your mouth. I detest teenagers with trash mouths."

"Thanks, Da." Harry said gratefully. One instance with a bar of soap from Severus had been enough, Harry had no wish to repeat the experience.

"Finish your tea. Then we'll get dressed and go."

Harry gulped his tea down and then ran upstairs.

He felt as if he were eleven again and was going to the zoo with the Dursleys. The last shopping trip he had been on had been into town to get clothes and shoes, this one would be much better, he was sure of it.

* * * * * *

Three and a half hours later, they returned to Spinner's End. The large Sony TV and SuperNintendo with six games and all the hint books plus extra controllers would be arriving the next morning, as would the TV stand and two large bean bags. Harry was very excited, so much so that he had a hard time sleeping, in spite of the warm milk with honey he drank. He tossed and turned restlessly for an hour before finally falling asleep.

The next morning he was up at the crack of dawn and was so restless that he kept peering out the front window waiting for the arrival of the delivery truck every two minutes, causing Severus to remark that he was like a five-year-old with ants in his pants waiting for the arrival of the ice cream truck. Harry immediately forced himself to sit still on the sofa, his teenage dignity insulted.

Twenty minutes later, the delivery truck came and parked alongside of the house and Harry leaped to his feet and ran out the door, yelling, "Da, it's here!" his dignity abandoned in a flash.

He led the delivery man inside and had him put the Tv and game system in the den. "Been waiting all day for it, huh?" the man said knowingly and grinned at Harry.

"Yes, sir," Harry replied and gave him an answering smile.

"I thought he was going to go through the window when you pulled up," Severus remarked. "He was like a wild thing. But I guess I can't blame him." He tipped the delivery man.

"Yeah, my son would've been tearing up the rug too." The man thanked Severus, his eyes widening when he saw the amount of money the other had given him. "Sir, this is too—"

"Keep it," Severus waved him off.

"Would you like some help setting it up?" offered the man.

"That would be great," Harry said.

"If it's not too much trouble."

"Nah. It won't take but a couple of minutes."

After everything had been installed and working properly, the delivery man left, calling over his shoulder, "Have fun, kid! And don't forget to thank your dad."

Harry did, even though he had already said it yesterday. Severus deserved it, for going out of his way and getting something like this, which he really didn't need.

"Can I go and call Paul now?" he asked, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Go ahead. Before you vibrate yourself through the floor and create a hole in the ceiling in the kitchen." Severus said, inspecting the new TV and system, which rested upon a brandnew oak TV stand next to Harry's dresser. The stand was built to house a TV and VCR, which was built into the TV, plus the game system, and store games and tapes as well. Harry had also gotten the complete Monty Python tapes and Star Wars. In front of the TV were two large bean bag chairs, one blue and one white.

Though Severus might tease him about acting like a cat on catnip, he was actually pleased to see Harry acting like a normal teenager for once, excited about ordinary things like televisions and video games.

Some five minutes later the doorbell rang.

Severus hurried downstairs in time to greet Paul, who shook his hand and said politely, "How do you do, Mr. Snape? I'm Paul Mosier, pleased to meet you."

"Pleased to meet you as well, Paul. Come in. Please excuse the mess, Harry just received an early birthday present from me—a brand new TV and a game system." Severus improvised, for there were packing contents and boxes strewn all over the den.

Paul whistled. "Awesome! Lucky you!"

"Come on, want to go try it out?" asked Harry.

"You bet. See you later, Mr. Snape."

Five seconds later, there came the sound of running feet going up the stairs to Harry's room. The secret panel had been left open, so Paul just thought it was another hallway leading from the library.

Severus winced at the noise and resigned himself to having the quiet of his home interrupted for the afternoon. Then he went into the kitchen to put on some tea and set out some small sandwiches for the two boys, reflecting on how strange it was to be playing homemaker for two teenagers instead of strict professor. He wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea, but then he recalled how Mrs. Evans used to always make him feel welcome whenever he showed up there, and he resolved to try and do the same for Harry and his friend. Not that he was going to become Betty Crocker, or Merlin forbid, Molly Weasley, but he could step out of his reserved shell a little, he thought as he fixed some small ham and cheese and cucumber chive sandwiches and crisps.

Remember, you wanted this for him, Severus, he reminded himself. You wanted him to have a normal life, the life you never had, and this is a part of it. Besides, the boy seems like a nice and polite sort.

He placed a bowl of sugar lumps on the tea tray.

Paul's voice floated shrilly down the stairs. "Wicked! You've got a owl for a pet! Is she trained? Can I pet her? That's totally bitchin'!"

Severus sighed. Totally bitchin' indeed.

* * * * * *

Harry and Paul spent the rest of the afternoon playing his SuperNintendo, beating level after level on Super Mario Brothers and Donkey Kong Country III. They took a break to come and eat the lunch Severus had prepared, and Paul was very mannerly and polite, which scored bonus points with Severus, his slip of the tongue earlier notwithstanding.

Then Harry took Hedwig outside with them, and using a quickly Transfigured sock into a falconer's glove when Paul wasn't looking, showed Paul how to man and fly the snowy owl. He apologized to Hedwig beforehand, but the snowy seemed more amused than annoyed at the pretending to be an ordinary bird, and came to land on both Harry's and Paul's gloved hands at Harry's whistle.

"That's like, the coolest bird ever!" Paul exclaimed.

Hedwig preened. I like this boy, Harry. Keep him.

Harry bit his lip to keep from laughing at the snowy's comment. "Yeah, she's like my best friend, know what I mean?"

"Where did you get her?"

"Up at school. You need a bird to do the falconry classes, and snowy owls can hunt either in the day or the night," Harry told him. He spent the rest of the afternoon talking about owls and hawks to an excited Paul instead of watching Monty Python.

But Paul claimed that flying a real snowy owl was better than watching any old movie, and asked if he could come over again tomorrow.

"Not tomorrow. I have a tutor coming over for advanced Chemistry," Harry improvised, for tomorrow was his session with Sirius and Remus.

"You have tutors over the summer? Is your dad like nuts?"

"No, he just wants me to be . . .uh . . .really prepared for my advanced classes next year," Harry said quickly. "We have these placement tests and if we score well on them, it helps us get into university."

"Oh. Right. But that must suck, having class over the summer," Paul said sympathetically.

"That's what you get when you have a Headmaster for a dad."

"Guess so, but otherwise your dad's really cool. I mean, I don't know anybody's dad who would spring for an entire entertainment system as a birthday present or let you keep an owl for a pet."

"The owl's mandatory and the TV and stuff . . .well, he gets like that sometimes. Because of my parents and all."

"Oh, yeah. I'd sort of . . .forgotten he wasn't . . .you know . . .your real dad," Paul said awkwardly. "You look a lot alike."

"I know. And Sev's the closest thing to a father I've ever had. My folks died when I was little and I can't really remember them. I used to live with other relatives till Sev offered to adopt me and I'm much better off with him than them. And not just 'cause he buys me stuff."

Paul nodded in understanding. "It's 'cause he wants you around."

"Yeah. Well, see you around."

Paul waved as he made his way down the street.

Harry went back inside, relieved at how he had handled that conversation without giving anything away about his other life. He wondered sometimes just what Paul would think if he told him the truth. Ha! He'd think you were cracked, that's what.

He began to set the table while Severus prepared supper without being asked. He knew Severus liked it when he did small chores on his own initiative, proving he could be responsible. Harry could hardly wait until Sirius came over tomorrow, then he could show his godfather and Remus his new TV, they were fascinated by Muggle devices.

* * * * * *

Perhaps because of all the excitement of the day, or the interruption of his daily routine by the arrival of his new gaming system, Harry again found it difficult to sleep. He lay awake for hours and then when he finally did fall asleep, he had a nightmare.

He dreamed he was running with Paul through some tall grass, and the dark mountain beside the Forest of the Night loomed threateningly behind them. They were being pursued by a whole horde of maldecorvae and also some of Dracula's vampires. In the dream, he was dragging Paul by the arm and yelling at him to run faster.

He began to moan and thrash about, kicking off his covers. "Hurry . . .gotta run . . .faster . . .damn you—run! Don't look! . . .Get off him, you bastards! Not the eyes . . .no . . .oh, God . . .NO!"

His last shout caused his voice to crack with grief and woke him up, shaking and trembling and gasping for air, staring wildly about him.

Hedwig flew from her perch to nestle against him. Breathe, fledgling. Just breathe. She crooned, nuzzling him. I think you need Warrior.

"No, don't call him . . ." Harry groaned, still shivering. Cold sweat dripped down his neck.

"Harry, what's wrong?"

Too late. Severus stood there, in his night robe and slippers, looking concerned. He walked quickly into the room and peered down upon his son, turning on the lights with a brief flick of his fingers.

"Nothing. Just a dream."

"Another nightmare?" asked the other knowingly, noting how shaken the boy was and how he was hugging his owl.

"I'm okay." Harry mumbled, looking away, ashamed. He was fifteen and still having nightmares like some little kid!

"Harry," Severus' tone became stern. "That's not true."

"I'll be fine, Da. You can go back to sleep." His stubborn son insisted.

But Severus did not move. Instead he touched the back of his hand to Harry's forehead, finding it sheened with sweat. "Your hair and face are soaked with sweat. That was no ordinary dream, you had a nightmare about the war. Get up, you need to get changed into dry pajamas and I'll change your sheets as well. You could take a chill, this house gets drafty at night."

"What? Da, I told you, I'm fine!"

Not minded to argue all night, Severus pointed his wand.

Harry yelped as his current set of pajamas vanished, including his underwear. He clutched Hedwig to him to cover himself. "Da! Stop!"

A towel appeared and dropped over his head, muffling his protests, and Snape leaned over and scrubbed his hair till it was dry.

Then he conjured a new set of pajamas and underclothes on the boy and picked him up and set him upon the beanbag chair.

While Harry muttered and pulled off the towel, Severus used magic to switch the sweat-soaked sheets for fresh ones and then turned to his son, who glared indignantly at him from the beanbag, his hair sticking up like a haystack, the towel draped about his neck.

"Hell, Da, I'm not five!"

"Then start acting like it. Back in bed."

This time Harry obeyed, fearful that if he didn't, Severus would resort to tucking him in. He released Hedwig and the snowy flew back to her perch, admonishing him to listen to Warrior. He was tempted to stick his tongue out at her.

Severus summoned some tea with honey and lavender in it, placed it upon the nightstand and sat on the end of the bed. Harry was sitting on the edge of the bed near the pillow, looking disgruntled and sleepy. "Talk to me, Harry. Tell me what you were dreaming. I head you screaming 'No' and 'get off'. Was it about the werewolves?" Harry shook his head. "The maldecorvae? Vampires? Voldemort?"

"It was just a stupid dream. Do I have to tell you?"

"Harry, what's the first rule of therapy?"

"That talking helps you release unhealthy emotions."

"Yes. I want to help you. Whatever you dreamed, I've been there. I know about what it was like."

Harry knew the other man would sit there all night until he talked. Reluctantly, he began telling him about the nightmare. "Paul was in it . . .we were running through a field of grass and the maldecorvae and vampires were coming for us . . .it was somewhere in Transylvania . . ." He bit his lip as he related what had happened next. "Then the maldecorvae dove at us . . .they were all over us . . .I couldn't keep them off . . .I tried, but my magic couldn't handle them . . .they . . .they tore him apart . . .I couldn't help him . . .!" His voice roughened, then broke, as he started to cry silently.

Severus made no move to comfort, not yet, allowing Harry to release his pent up emotions. His son's pain wrenched at him, but he forced himself to be calm. Harry needed compassionate support from him. The boy wept in eerie silence, his shoulders shaking. Finally, Severus spoke. "Don't hold back. Let go, fledgling."

Harry heard the words from far away, breaking through the barrier of silence, and washing over him like a great wave. Let go. Let go. The words beat upon him steadily until they cracked the wall and suddenly he gulped and allowed a sob to escape. Then another. A hand touched him lightly. He flinched, then another sob wracked him. The hand patted his back.

Blinded by tears, he stared up into his father's dark eyes, which were bright with understanding. "C-can't . . ." he stuttered, fighting to crawl out of the dark pit he had been thrown into.

"I'm here. Right here."

"You weren't . . .before . . ." he practically wailed.

"But I am now. Easy. Let it go."

Harry turned and huddled into himself, the sobs coming faster. Severus rubbed and patted, until finally the boy buried his face in his shoulder. Then he put his arms about his son and held him close, whispering words of reassurance that penetrated the dark wall of fear and pain. "I'm here. Always here. I'll never leave you."

Harry heard. But he couldn't halt the sobbing and so he gave into it at last.

Severus simply held him until he was finished. "All right now?" A nod. "Why don't you sit up and drink some tea?"

Harry did not speak, simply obeyed, drinking the now cold tea in a few gulps. He felt wrung out but the bone deep terror had faded and he drew away from Severus and curled up on his side. He felt a damp cloth wipe his face before he fell asleep.

Severus remained there for a few moments more, reflecting that Sirius would have plenty to discuss with Harry tomorrow.

* * * * * *

Harry was grumpy from lack of sleep the next morning, and also ashamed of his nightmare and reaction to it. He didn't feel like talking at all and so he remained silent through breakfast and then retreated to his room to play video games and watch Monty Python. He knew he would be discussing last night's episode with Sirius and it frustrated him. Just when things were going okay, the bloody nightmares had resurfaced and make him a bloody wreck again.

He was flopped over on his stomach on the beanbag, making Mario stomp on a fireball shooting Venus flytrap when a knock came at the door.

"Hey, buddy. It's me, Sirius. Can I come in?"

"Yeah." He rolled over and sat up.

His godfather was dressed in casual jeans and a lightweight pullover today, he had finally shaved off his mustache and trimmed his hair, it made him look years younger and softened some of the lines in his face left there by Azkaban. "So, what's new, kid?"

"This," Harry waved a hand at the new TV and its system. "Pretty neat, huh?"

Sirius squatted down and looked at the TV. "Uh, Harry? What is it?"

Harry spent the next fifteen minutes explaining about it and letting Sirius play a bit with the games. The older wizard was fascinated with it and probably would have spent all afternoon playing Donkey Kong with Harry until Remus gave a soft cough.

"Padfoot? You're not here to play whatever that is with Harry, remember?"

"Huh?" Sirius came back from Nintendo World with a jolt. "Oh, right." He gave his friend a sheepish look and put down the controller. "I almost beat this level, Moony."

Harry paused the game. "It's okay, Sirius. The game's paused."

Sirius rose to his feet and sat down in the desk chair, letting Harry sit on the bed. "Okay, anything happen since last time that you want to talk about?"

Harry sighed, knowing full well that his godfather probably knew about the nightmare. "I had a nightmare last night."

"Ah. A bad one?"

"Yeah. It was . . .I was back in Transylvania, during the war, and this time Paul, he's my new Muggle friend I met a few weeks ago, was in it . . ."

Once more he related the dream, only this time he managed to get through it without breaking down and crying. It had lost some of its impact the second time around, in the light of day. The emotions it conjured weren't as sharp and ragged.

Sirius listened quietly, then said, "Why do you think you had this dream, Harry?"

"I don't know. I wasn't angry or upset when I went to sleep. Just tired."

"Hmm. I think you were a little bit overexcited too. And you received something you've always wanted for nothing from Severus."

"So? Why would that make a difference?"

"Remember when I told you that how you were raised sometimes causes you to think you're not worthy of people showing you kindness?"

"Yeah. You said that Da was like that too. So what?"

"Well, from what I see, somehow your mind thinks that you don't deserve this nice system Severus got for you and the nightmare is a way that you subconsciously protest this. I know it sounds weird, but you were taught that you didn't deserve anything good from those scummy relatives of yours. Your cousin always got the good stuff and you got the leftovers. So when you do get something, a part of you immediately pushes it away, so you don't get into trouble."

"You mean that the nightmare was like . . .me punishing myself for getting the TV and stuff?"

"In a way. You didn't realize that's what you were doing though. Your mind's a funny thing, Harry. And you've been conditioned for years that you were worthless, so that when you came to Hogwarts, you thought it was great if a teacher gave you a kind word and you didn't let your fame go to your head the way most kids would have because you didn't really think you deserved it. Am I making sense here? There's a name for it, but I'm not a Mind Healer and don't know the fancy terminology."

"It's okay. I get what you mean, Sirius. What do I do about it?"

"Well, it'll take a long time before you overcome that self confidence problem. Months. Maybe years. But you just have to remind yourself that we believe you're worthy of everything we can give you and the Dursleys were beasts that should have been flayed alive. Everything they taught you was a pack of lies. Trust us, Harry.

"As for the nightmares, that's pretty common with a PTSD person. We all have them, Harry. Me, Remus, even old Stone Face himself." Sirius winked and grinned. "That's normal after you've fought a war and seen terrible things no kid—no one—should have to see. Monsters. People getting killed, kids even. And then you having to take lives too. All of that hurts. You weren't trained like a soldier, or even like an Auror, the way Remus and I were. You weren't taught to kill or be killed, like Severus was as a spy."

"But I did kill. I killed that werewolf and I killed maldecorvae and I killed Voldemort. I don't regret that. I did it because if I didn't, somebody I cared about would have died."

"Yes. But a part of you still feels sick, doesn't it?"

Harry nodded. "Da says that's normal."

"It is. But it makes it tough to get over it once it's done. What you have to tell yourself now is that it's over and done with. You made choices at the time that you felt were necessary and you protected your mentor and friends. You did what you had to, what was right."

"I did some other things too, Sirius. Things that I . . .I'm ashamed of. Things that I don't know if I could ever forgive myself for."

"So have we all, Harry. War brings out the predator in all of us, the darkness that lives in the deepest part of our souls. We need it then, to survive the horror, but when it's all said and done, it's hard to reconcile it with our conscience."

"Sirius is right, Harry." Remus put in. "I killed Greyback as a werewolf by trickery, but that doesn't change the fact that he died because of me. I fought others of his pack and shredded them, and let the werewolf nature free in order to do it. It was something I had to do, but it also frightened me. Do you know why?"

"Because . . .you liked it. That's . . .how I felt when the Dagger possessed me. I almost killed Severus, Moony. I stabbed him with it and I felt . . .good." Harry's eyes were glassy. Suddenly he was back there, holding the ornate golden dagger in his hands, listening to the seductive voice again. Take me up. Use me. Use me. Once more he brought the dagger down, plunging it through Severus' robes and into his heart. Once more he saw Severus' face, shocked, pale. "Harry . . .why?"

"Harry, come back," he heard Sirius calling. "Harry, that's over, now come back."

Harry shuddered and then shook off the memory. "I thought . . .I was . . ."

"Relax. You had a flashback."

"Think I'm gonna be sick . . ." Harry bolted from his room. He just made it to the bathroom.

He returned to his room a few minutes later, red-faced. "Sorry."

"For what? That's happened to all of us." Remus said matter-of-factly. "Do you need a potion to settle your stomach?"

"No. I'm okay." He sighed. "I thought after the Ritual of Renewal, I was over feeling guilty about the dagger. I mean, I was cleansed and Severus forgave me."

"Did you forgive yourself?" asked Sirius.

"I . . .thought so."

"You might want to work on that. Why don't we practice some meditation?"

He handed Harry his worry stone and they began the exercises together.

After fifteen minutes, Harry felt much better.

"Good job. Now, I want you to start keeping a kind of dream journal by your bed. You should use it to write down your dreams, when you can remember them. Including your nightmares, if you can't talk to your father about them. It helps you put things in perspective and organize your thoughts. I have one and I write in it almost every night sometimes. It really helps me."

Remus handed him a slender black book. "You can share the contents of the book with us or not. Though we'd prefer if you would talk about the nightmares, because sharing them will help you overcome them."

Harry took the small volume and thanked them. Then he asked, "Why does everyone keep telling me it's important to talk about my nightmares?"

Sirius crossed one foot over the other. "I asked Alec the same thing. He told me that speaking about the nightmares makes them something less, it loosens their hold upon your subconscious. Name your fear and face it and then fear becomes nothing. Just a shadow and shadows have no power to harm you. By not speaking about it, you give the dream power, you feed it with fear and then it grows. Talking about it reduces it to something manageable."

"It's like removing a scary mask from a friend's face," Remus put in. "When you first see your friend, you're scared because you don't recognize him, he's a stranger, a monster. But when you take off the mask, you see your friend and your fear vanishes. That's what you're doing when you talk about the nightmares. You're taking off the mask."

"Oh. I get it now." Harry said, finally catching on.

"Good. Now try and remember it," Sirius said. He checked his watch. "I think that's all for today. Now how about we keep playing that game—what'd you call it again? Donkey's Crown?"

"Donkey Kong," Harry corrected.

Remus just groaned and muttered under his breath, "Merlin, Padfoot, just when I think you're all grown up!"

* * * * * *

Harry showed Severus his new "dream journal" and the Potions Master agreed that was a good idea. He said it would help Harry clarify his thoughts.

"Did—do you have one?"

"Not anymore. I stopped writing in it when I started returning to Voldemort as a spy. It was too easy for someone to learn of it and use it against me and so I stopped using it and hid the original journals away. Perhaps I ought to start writing again." He mused.

Harry found that using the journal was easier than he had thought. Sometimes he couldn't remember anything concrete about his dreams, just feelings. Sirius had said that was all right to put down too. Other times he had vivid dreams about things—like Quidditch, kissing Meadowsweet, fighting the trees in the Forest of the Night. He had another nightmare the week after he had started the journal, and again Severus came to him.

This time he followed the advice of his elders and told Severus he had dreamed about becoming the Dark Lord, that the dagger had taken him over, and he had become what he feared most—a monster. He talked, drank soothing tea, and let Severus hold him through the worst of the shaking and sickness that followed.

That night, he fell asleep holding Severus' hand.

Sirius said that was an improvement.

* * * * * *

The next night, Harry awoke to a piercing howl of despair echoing in his ears. He sat up in bed, feeling a cold chill steal over him. What did I dream? I can't remember, but I must have had another nightmare, because I woke myself up screaming. He tried frantically to remember what he had dreamed, and waited for Severus to come running in like always.

Instead he heard another groan. But it was not coming from him.

This time it was Severus who was dreaming.

Harry remained frozen for two seconds, then he threw off his covers and padded down the hall to Severus' bedroom. He had never entered it unless Severus had given him permission, respecting the man's privacy. He didn't really believe that Severus kept the bodies of former disrespectful apprentices chained to the wall. Still, when he opened the door very quietly and tiptoed into the room, his wand lit up for maximum light, he took a quick glance around before going over to the bed.

The room was a perfectly ordinary master suite, with a large king-sized bed done in emerald green and the walls were painted in a soft beige with small leaves printed upon it. The carpet was a thick woven Berber fleece with geometric designs on it. Harry made no sound as he trod upon it. He saw a large walk-in closet off to the side and a bathroom as well. But then Severus moaned again and Harry quit looking around the bedroom and focused instead upon his father.

He recalled Severus having a nightmare a few times when he was Freedom and Sev's familiar, and during his convalescence recovering from the dagger, but never since they had returned home to Spinner's End. From the looks of things, it was a particularly bad one.

His father was all twisted about in the covers, twitching and groaning like a man being tortured upon the rack. Cautiously, Harry approached the bed, knowing that it was dangerous to touch the sorcerer when he was dreaming. Severus had told him long ago that he had been conditioned to awaken in a split second ready to fight whatever had disturbed his rest, and he could throw a combat spell even while half-asleep. Or a punch.

Still, Harry couldn't bear hearing those awful moans. He drew in a deep breath and muttered a Summoning Charm. A quill pen appeared and he floated it over to the thrashing Potions Master and began to tickle the man's chin and when that didn't seem to work, he moved it to tickle the man's bare foot, which was sticking out from the blanket.

That got a reaction from him.

Severus' foot jerked reflexively and he sputtered.

"Da, wake up. Come on, you're having a nightmare." Harry called, making the feather tickle Severus again. Then he prayed he wouldn't be grounded or worse when the man finally woke up and realized what Harry had been doing. "Da!"

"No, not the children! They're burning . . .burning . . .!"

Harry paled, for he knew then what dream Severus was having. The one where Voldemort had burned that Muggleborn family to death before Severus' eyes, including the little children. Severus had been forced to watch and was able to do nothing because he was masquerading as a Death Eater.

"Da! Please! Wake up!"

Severu woke suddenly, all at once, his hand grabbing his wand, which was beside him, and pointing it at Harry. There was a maniac gleam in his eyes.

Harry dropped his wand and held up his hands. "Da, I'm sorry! I'll never tickle you awake again, promise!"

Severus blinked. "Harry? What . . .?" He stared at his son, then looked at his hand. Only then did he realize he was holding his wand. He quickly set it down, frowning at himself. His lower half was all wound up in his sheets, like a half-finished mummy.

"You were screaming in your sleep, Da. Having a nightmare. I heard you and I . . . came to see what was the matter. Like you do with me." Harry said, giving his parent an uncertain, worried look.

Severus scowled, but not at his son. He was scowling at himself, for waking his son up with a ridiculous dream. "I'm fine now, Harry. I just . . ."

"Here, let me help you with that," Harry said, and he picked up his wand and waved it at the blanket and sheets.

They straightened themselves out in a flash.

"Better?" Harry asked.

"Yes, thank you, Harry," Severus said stiffly. "You can go back to bed now."

His son shook his head. "Nuh-uh, Da." He hopped up on the bed and said calmly, "What were you dreaming about? Talk to me."

Severus opened his mouth to tell his impudent son to mind his own business, then he closed it again. Harry was trying to help him, as he had tried to help Harry. Except it was rather embarrassing and disconcerting to be on the receiving end of such help, the professor discovered. What's good for the fledgling is good for the hawk, Severus, he reminded himself. He shuddered, recalling what he had been dreaming about. It was not pleasant. It was downright horrible.

"You'll feel better," Harry encouraged. "I won't ever tell anybody. Trust me."

"All right. If I can't trust you, after what we've been through, I can't trust anyone," his father sighed. "I . . .dreamed about that day when Voldemort ordered his Inner Circle to go and teach those Muggleborns a lesson. . ." Once more he related that awful day, and how he had wished to help the poor children, but had been forced instead to watch and do nothing while they writhed and burned. "I shall never forget it . . .never . . .their screams shall haunt me forever . . ."

Harry laid a hand upon his father's broad shoulder. "It wasn't your fault. You didn't burn them alive. Voldemort did that. Not you."

"No. I did nothing." Severus said, his voice thick with self-loathing. "Which of us is the greater villain?"

"Not you!" Harry insisted. "He's the monster, Da. He's the one who's roasting in hell for it. You did what you had to, even when it tore you to pieces. You did what nobody else could. You learned all his secrets, all his vulnerabilities."

"I watched children die! How then can you call me a hero?" Severus hissed, his eyes filled with agony.

"But you saved so many more. All your students, all the ones who might have been Death Eaters, now they're free. You saved me, Da. And because you did, because you risked your life for us, you saved the world. I would have never been able to fulfill the prophecy without you. Together, we killed Voldemort. You kept your promise to my mum and to me. You redeemed yourself, Da. A thousand times over. You're my hero. Now stop feeling guilty. Sometimes people die in war. You can't save them all."

Severus coughed, recognizing his own words coming out of Harry's mouth. "I know. But sometimes . . .sometimes I forget. Thank you for reminding me, Harry."

"Anytime, Da."

Severus reached over and ruffled his hair. "You're a good son, Harry. I'm lucky to have you."

"And I'm lucky to have you," Harry said sincerely. "You okay now? Or do you want some tea?"

Severus started to refuse, then he thought better of it. "Tea sounds good."

Harry Summoned the familiar sleep aid and they drank their tea sitting together upon the large bed. It was strange, but somehow that simple act served to draw the two injured souls closer than ever before.

Severus sipped his tea and then set the empty cup down upon his nightstand. Tonight he had been the one who had needed comfort and his son had risen to the challenge. "Together, Harry, we'll get through this. One day—one night—at a time."

Harry reached out and clasped Severus' large hand in his own. "Together."

After all, they had defeated a crazy megalomaniac wizard who wanted to take over the world. Together they could defeat the shadow of war and take back the lives they had sacrificed. One day, one night, at a time.