"You can't possibly expect me to stay here with him!" Draco shouted angrily, "A Malfoy and the golden boy?"

"I'm sorry Draco, but this is our only option." Narcissa said quietly, "I know it's not ideal, but it's for your own protection....and whether you like it or not, it's a good opportunity to prove to Dumbledore that you've removed yourself from the dark side. Professor Snape's home is under the fidelus and has many safeguards that will keep you out of harms way until things die down."

Draco nodded numbly, resting his head on his mother's shoulder as she gave him a tight hug, "This is a very mature decision you are making, you have made me proud."

"Thank you Mother." Draco murmured, inhaling his mother's perfume, tears prickling in his eyes. He wasn't one to openly weep, nor was he one to become homesick, but he knew this was the last time he'd see his mother for a long time and they weren't parting on the same terms they would during a school year.

Giving her son's hand a tight squeeze, Narcissa turned from Draco to the Floo, calling out "Malfoy Manor" before stepping into the green flames, leaving the blonde in the hands of his godfather.

Draco looked up at Severus Snape, a frown on his pale face, "You don't expect us, Potter and I, to be...friends....or anything, do you?"

"Of course not Draco, I'm not a fool. I do, however, expect the two of you to try to coexist as peacefully as possible for the next 2 months, until we return to school. I have laid out rules for Harry already, and I will go over them with you tonight at dinner. In the meantime, why don't you go upstairs and unpack and maybe take your broom out on the grounds? Harry is already upstairs and I doubt he'll be going outside today, so it will give you a bit of peace while you adjust."

"Where's my room?"

"Second floor, third door on the left." Severus replied, his hand on Draco's shoulder, "You're doing a good thing."

Draco gave a slight smile and a weak nod before moving towards the stairs. Things had been a blur since the summer began, he had been preparing to join Voldemort's ranks at the end of term and had spent the first few days of holidays preparing for his encounter with the Dark Lord. It was no secret that he'd be one of the youngest new recruits and he had been fully prepared to do whatever was asked of him...until the idiot LeStrange let it slip that he would be ordered to murder the headmaster. It wasn't that he was particularly loyal to the old man, but just the thought of murdering him turned his stomach.

Dumbledore was a famous wizard, not to mention a powerful one, and he had been a constant figure in his life for years now. It was one thing to dislike the headmaster, but another to attempt to kill him, or even to wish him dead. After Bellatrix had left, Draco had confessed to his mother that he didn't think he had it in him to commit such a vicious act.

He had expected her to be furious, or at least to give him a peptalk on why it was important to the cause, but she had surprised him by bursting into sobs and showering him with praise and affirmation. Just a few days later he had been hauled off to Snape's house, knowing that one, he didn't fully have the other man's trust, and two, there was a price on his head from Voldemort's followers. He had decided that while spending a summer with his potions professor/godfather and Harry-bloody-Potter wasn't the best way to enjoy his time away from school, it was certainly better than death.

That was, until he opened the door to his bedroom.

His jaw fell as he entered the room, the left side a beautiful brilliant shade of Slytherin green, the right with Gryffindor red. And laying on top of the red bedding laid none other than Harry Potter, resting on his stomach while he lazily flipped through a book.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Harry didn't look up, which tore Draco's emotions between relief at not having to interact with his arch enemy and annoyance at being ignored.

Draco tossed his book bag on the green bed, noticing his trunk had already been placed at the foot of the bed. He tore off his travelling cloak and tossed it onto the bed as well before picking up his broom. "Don't touch my stuff."

The blonde warned, shooting an icy glare at the other boy, frowning when his attempt to rile Potter was ignored, "What, are you deaf?"

Harry looked up at Draco for a moment, then back down at his book, silently turning the page. With an indignant huff, Draco turned and went downstairs, more than just a little curious as to what was going on with his--he shuddered at the word--roommate.

~~

Severus sat in the library, a glass of fire whiskey in hand, as he watched Draco fly through the courtyard. Satisfied that the boy would be out of trouble for the time being, he turned his attention back to the Daily Prophet. He read the first sentence a dozen times before giving up, tossing the paper onto the table and standing. It was time to check on Harry.

If the child had been even half as unpleased by the orders from the headmaster that they would be spending the summer together, he hadn't shown it in the least. As a matter of fact, the boy had yet to show much of any emotion over the time they had spent together, something quiet uncharacteristic for the normally outspoken boy-who-lived-to-annoy. At first, Severus was relieved not to have to deal with teenage tantrums, but the silent treatment was getting old very quickly and he couldn't help but be concerned for the boy.

It was no secret that Potter wore his heart on his sleeve, usually it took a brief look at the child's stance and face to read his emotions, but since the end of term Harry had been quite withdrawn and unwilling to even subconsciously share any inkling of what was happening in his mind.

Severus wouldn't admit it, he would probably deny it even if asked, but he was concerned about Harry's mental state. Headmaster Dumbledore had not mentioned his exact reasoning for placing Harry in his custody, but the request had come on the heels of a major outburst that had taken place in Dumbledore's office, so Severus had reasoned that the headmaster was worried about Potter's emotional state. That, combined with Potter's uncharacteristic behavior was enough to drive the potions professor into a state of concern.

He lightly knocked on the bedroom door, frowning when Harry didn't even move from his position on the bed. He wasn't surprised, Harry rarely left his room, but it wasn't like him to spend the summer with his nose in a book--surely if it was, his grades would be higher.

"Potter."

A few moments passed before Harry made eye-contact, his dull emerald gaze travelling to Snape's face, "Yes sir?"

"Have you eaten today?"

"No sir."

Snape had expected to see at least a trace of guilt over skipping not only the current day's meals, but most meals, or even perhaps anger at being treated like a child. To hear absolutely no emotion from the boy was disheartening.

Harry's gaze dropped back down to the book laying open on his crimson bedding, and Severus sighed, "Do grace us with your presence at dinner tonight."

"Yes sir."

"If you would like to fly for a bit, I'm sure Draco wouldn't mind the company."

"No sir." Came the response Severus had expected. He was torn between relief and worry. On one hand, he wished Harry would show some sort of enthusiasm, on the other, he knew Draco would have a fit if his new roommate joined him outdoors.

Severus paused in the doorway, hoping on some level that the boy would stop him, but when Harry continued to stare at his book Severus turned to leave. This entire situation was a bit too unsettling for him. Students staying with him over the summer, concern for a Potter. He resisted the urge to pinch himself and see if he was dreaming.

He settled back into a black leather chair in the library, picking up the glass of alcohol and paper once more. He decided he wasn't going to think about Potter or Draco any longer and would enjoy the silence, because he had a feeling that once the two boys actually started spending time together, silence would be hard to come by. It was no secret that the two were bitter rivals, and he could only imagine the sparks that would fly once the two of them started cohabitating.

~~

Harry stared at the book in his hands, reading the same lines for the eighth time.

It may be he shall take my hand

And lead me into his dark land

And close my eyes and quench my breath—

It may be I shall pass him still

I have a rendezvous with Death

(I Have a Rendezvous with Death - Alan Seeger)

More than anything, he wanted to let his eyes drift close and enjoy a peaceful slumber. He knew that wouldn't happen, though. He hadn't been able to sleep for more than an hour at a time since the night at the Department of Mysteries. He wanted to throw the book aside and sob into his blankets until his eyes were swollen shut and his throat ached. He knew that wouldn't happen either. He didn't deserve to sleep. He didn't deserve to cry. He didn't deserve to live. He had acted without thinking things through, he had ignored Hermione's warnings that Voldemort was possibly using their link to plant false information. He had gotten his godfather killed and nearly gotten his friends killed as well. And now, he'd have to become a murderer in order for all of this pain and suffering to end. There wasn't time waste flying his broom, writing to his friends, enjoying his summer. Every day that he remained under Snape's care, another innocent family was being tortured or murdered. Dying because of him. Because he wasn't ready to fight Voldemort yet.

So instead of obsessing over his godfather's death, he had pushed those feelings deep down inside and was focusing on preparing for the upcoming battle. He knew it was only a matter of time before he and Voldemort came head to head, and he knew that when it happened, he would be the victorious one. He spent his days reading the many books Snape kept stored in their library, novels written by wizards and muggles alike, transfiguration and charms texts, texts on magical creatures. He was trying not only to stay out of trouble but to experience as much as he could before meeting Voldemort, just in case he didn't make it. At night, he would sneak into the library and study defense books, as well as some dark arts books, taking notes and memorizing all he could. He slept only when he could no longer fight his burning eyes and aching head, and he ate only when Snape noticed he wasn't. He didn't have time to stop, he had to cram as much information into his head as possible.

Satisfied that he would be uninterrupted until dinner, he tossed the poetry book aside and lifted his pillow to retrieve his muggle notebook and pen as well as a spell book he had borrowed from Snape's library the previous night. His muscles ached in protest and blood rushed to his head, making him dizzy, as he moved to the desk in the corner of the room, but he forced himself to ignore the discomfort. He had a job to do, and once that job was over he'd finally be left alone to either live or die in peace.

~~~

Harry stood and flushed the toilet, staggering to the sink to rinse the vomit taste from his mouth. He hated when Voldemort got into his head, it always left him feeling weak and ill, as if the content of the visions wasn't enough to do do. He grimaced as another wave of nausea rolled through him and he gripped the sink and bent forward, willing himself not to throw up again and hating himself for falling asleep in the first place. He splashed some water on his face, taking a few deep breaths before opening the door. He nearly fell backwards when he came face to face with Draco Malfoy.

"Are you alright?" Draco asked, a apprehensive look on his pale face.

Harry let his gaze fall to the floor, wanting to avoid a fight at all costs. He didn't want to waste time on petty rivalries when he should be focusing on his biggest enemy. "Fine."

"I thought I heard--"

"I'm fine." Harry repeated a bit more forcefully, flopping back down on his crimson bed.

Draco raised an eyebrow but didn't comment, his eyes following Harry as he flicked open his book and began to read once more. "Is that all you do?"

Harry ignored the question, and was spared another as Snape's voice echoed down the hallway, "Boys, come down here!"

Draco turned and left and Harry tiredly stood, forcing the haziness that the lack of sleep provoked from his head, and followed. When they reached the den, Severus was already seated in an oversized leather chair watching the two boys as they sat on opposite ends of the sofa.

"There are a few rules I would like to establish. Harry and I have already been over them, but it wouldn't hurt for him to be reminded as well." He paused to make sure both boys were paying attention, and once Harry finished looking around and focused, he continued, "First and foremost, there are quite a bit of dark magical objects here, and I do not want either of you looking for, touching or even thinking about going near these objects. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir." Harry and Draco replied in unison, Draco shooting Harry a nasty look when he realized they had spoken together, although Harry's eyes were resting somewhere to the left of Severus's shoulder. His head throbbed, his scar burning, and he wanted nothing more than to escape back to the confines of his room and study until he passed out from exhaustion.

Severus continued, not noticing the building tension, or perhaps choosing to ignore it. He looked from Harry to Draco, then back to Harry before stating, “Breakfast is at 7:00 sharp, lunch at noon and dinner at six. If you are late, you do not eat. I will not dictate your daily schedule, seeing as how it is the summer holidays, but I do expect you to balance your recreational activities with a fair amount of studying and preparing for next term. I expect you to keep your room tidy, and I intend on holding both of you accountable, so if one of you fails to maintain that requirement, I expect the other to overcompensate. Feel free to manage this however you must, lest both of you receive punishment.”

“Yes sir.” Harry murmured as Draco shot the professor an indignant look.

“Are you kidding me?” Draco shouted, “I will not be responsible for Potter’s mess. What if he decides he won’t do anything at all and I’m left with all of the work?”

“That is between the two of you. I will not spend my summer refereeing petty teenage rivalries. I expect the two of you to try and get along as much as possible. I understand it would be nearly impossible for you to never fight, but I expect that you both treat the other with respect and compassion, even if it is just for the remainder of the summer.”

Harry’s head continued to ache as Severus repeated, for the third time since Harry had arrived, the list of rules and conditions of their stay at his home. He briefly considered asking to be excused back to his bedroom, but decided against it as his imagination vividly flashed through Snape’s likely response, including the well known speech about how he disobeyed rules on a regular basis and was going to get himself and his foolish friends killed one day because of his recklessness and irresponsibility. And truth be told, even if Snape was the nicest man on earth, he wouldn’t want to draw any attention to himself. It was best to stay hidden in the shadows and disappear. After all, there was no way he’d be able to train enough, learn enough magic to defeat Voldemort if he was being watched under the careful eyes of Severus Snape…and he doubted Snape would appreciate him using his dark arts book to practice. And even if he did, he wouldn’t feel comfortable with the harsh professor overseeing his studies and making him more nervous than he already felt.

His scar seared with pain again and he groaned inwardly, trying not to show any signs of weakness externally. He had been working hard on this ever since that night at the Department of Mysteries, he knew eventually everyone would figure out it was his fault that Sirius had died, and he was determined not to let anyone know he was still having horrible visions. Most of all Snape, since Harry himself had been responsible for occulmency classes ending. He couldn’t take it if Snape decided to throw this information back in his face and blame him for his godfather’s death. He blamed himself enough as it was.

He squirmed slightly as he was thrown into a modest house, one that he recognized from photos in his dormitory. He felt sick as he recognized he familiar accent of Seamus Finnegan, and what he could assume was Seamus’s family. No. No. No. No. No. A shot of green light and the hissed words that haunted so many of Harry’s dreams and one by one a family was destroyed.

He gasped as he was jerked back into the present, Snape’s voice penetrating his ears as his heart rapidly fluttered, picturing over and over what just transpired in his mind. Seamus Finnegan was dead. His family, dead. More people he knew and cared for, gone. His stomach churned and he could feel the bile rising in his throat. He swallowed a few times, anxiety and panic rising in his chest as he relieved the last vision once more, and it wasn’t until he noticed both Draco and Snape looking at him that he realized he had dropped his façade of normalcy.

“Are you alright?” Severus asked sharply, noticing the boy’s face rapidly pale as his hands began to shake, “Harry? What’s wrong?”

Harry fully intended to reassure his professor and newly acquired roommate that he was quite fine, but the moment he opened his mouth he knew he was going to be sick. Clamping his hand over his mouth he bolted from the room, barely making it to the restroom in time before bringing up what little was on his stomach, sobs wracking his body as the implications of his vision fully hit him. Seamus was his friend, and though they weren’t as close as he was with Ron or Hermione, he knew their dormitory wouldn’t be the same without him.

Cedric Diggory, Sirius, his parents, Seamus…how many people were going to have to die before he was able to fulfill his destiny and kill that bastard once and for all? How many more people would he lose? How many more innocent lives would be wasted?

He was so wrapped up in his grief that he barely noticed as a cold cloth was pressed against the back of his neck and he was gently brought to his feet. He wasn’t fully aware that he was back into his room until he found himself drinking a vial of liquid, his breath coming in gasps as his sobs subsided. He was embarrassed, not only for puking and sobbing in front of his professor, but for having to be treated like a child and forced into sedation with what he now, as the anxiety subsided, recognized as a calming drought.

Harry was barely aware of the soothing hand rubbing his back as he gave in to exhaustion and fell into a fitful sleep.

~~~

“Come Draco.” Severus said quietly, “He needs rest.”

“What just happened?” Draco asked, curiosity overpowering his dislike for the other boy.

Severus shut the door behind them, leading the blonde back into the den, “I’m not quite sure. I have reason to believe he doesn’t sleep well, maybe the fatigue has caught up with him.”

Draco nodded, his heart racing from the events that had just transpired, although he’d never admit it to anyone. One minute Severus had been telling them about bedtimes, the next Severus had stopped and looked at Harry who was as pale as a corpse. Harry didn’t seem to hear Severus talking to him for a few minutes, then once he seemed to acknowledge their professor, Harry had bolted and was sick. He had never seen someone so rattled before; Harry was incoherent as he sobbed to the point of hyperventilation and once Severus had been able to give him a calming drought, Harry passed out almost immediately.

He had spent the last few years at Hogwarts hearing about the strong and unnaturally resilient Harry Potter, and seeing the sobbing, human, boy in front him was shocking and surreal. This sobbing, emotional mess was the same boy who had defeated Vodemort as a baby, killed a host of Voldemort’s at the age of 11, slayed a Basilisk at the age of 12, faced Voldemort again at the age of 14 and managed to escape certain death, who fought a dragon, who fought Voldemort yet again at 15 and lived to tell the tale. How could someone so strong show such a tremendous act of weakness?

As if Severus had read his thoughts, his professor said quietly, “The boy has lived through things that most grown men couldn’t face and handle. You can’t expect him to be untouched by the losses he has endured, nor the horrors he has faced, despite what you think you know about him.”

Draco was silent, his godfather’s words striking an unfamiliar sensation of compassion for the boy-who-lived. He was so caught up in his thoughts over his rival that he was startled when the floo roared and Albus Dumbledore stepped through.

“Good evening Severus, Draco.”

“G-good evening Professor.” Draco stumbled, glancing over at his professor for a cue to remain or leave.

“How are you this evening? Getting along well in your new home?”

“Yes sir.” Draco said politely, the uneasiness quickly fading as it was replaced by the confidence that was hammered into him at a young age, “Would you care for tea?”

“No, thank you. I’m only here for a short visit.”

“Draco, would you please go upstairs? Try not to disturb Harry.” Severus said quietly, noticing rather quickly that Dumbledore’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, “Perhaps get started on your summer homework? Dinner will be in an hour.”

Draco nodded, shutting the door to the den behind him. He fully intended on going upstairs until he heard Dumbledore’s voice through the door, “A student has been killed.”

Curiosity got the better of him, and he leaned closer to the door to hear better.

“A student? By the Dark Lord?”

“Death Eaters had been seen in the area of the residence of Seamus Finnegan. It is unclear whether the family was a target or if it was a random attack. Mrs. Finnegan has some ties to the ministry, but Mr. Finnegan is a muggle. Nymphadora was sent to the area for surveillance, but by the time she arrived the Finnegans were dead.”

“I wasn’t aware they were planning an attack.”

Draco could hear the worry in his godfather’s voice and he bit his lip out of concern.

“I fear you may be losing your place, that Voldemort may be growing suspicious of your involvement in the Order.”

“I fear you may be correct. Is there anything else going on that I need to be made informed of?”

“No, I would just like to encourage you and the boys to take extreme caution, if your position as a spy is indeed known, the three of you may have the highest prices on your heads.”

There was a moment of silence before Dumbledore’s voice was heard again, “How is Harry?”

“He isn’t recovering as well as I would have hoped. I am not sure there is anything I can do for him, he may as well have been left with his muggle relatives. He spends most of his time alone, he rarely eats or sleeps, he is still having visions, although I’m quite sure I am the last person he would ever open up to about them. He is currently in bed, he was ill this afternoon…I do believe it is possible that his illness was an after-effect of a vision. He is under the impression that he is able to fool me into thinking everything is fine but he has never been one to sufficiently suppress his emotions. He is sneaking defense and dark arts books from my library…there’s nothing he can access that would be detrimental to him, but it seems he is trying to cram as much knowledge as he can before his next encounter with the Dark Lord. I assume you’ve told him the prophecy?”

“Yes. I am disheartened to hear he isn’t faring better, but I stand by my decision. He is in good hands here, it is obvious just by the way you have paid attention to the child’s needs. His relatives would most definitely not be as obliging.”

“Petunia Dursley isn’t fit to care for a goldfish, much less a child.”

“Indeed. I must be off now, but I will keep you abreast of the situation at hand. Lemon drop?”

“No, thank you.”

Draco jumped as the door swung open, he hadn’t realized the headmaster had left yet, and his guilty eyes met Severus’s furious ones. “Did I not tell you to go to your room?”

“Yes sir.” Draco murmured, looking down, “I’m sorry.”

Severus’s voice rose slightly, his hands clenched at his sides, “Do you honestly think I would have sent you away had you needed to be informed of the conversation the headmaster and I were having?”

“No sir…I just heard him say that a student--”

“Yes!” Severus shouted, “A student was murdered, one of your classmates. After you had eavesdropped on that particular piece of information, did you not find it appropriate to let us continue our conversation in privacy?!”

“No sir, yes sir.” Draco stammered, “It’s just--”

“Just what?” Snape cut in, “Please do inform me, Draco, of the reasons it was necessary to listen in on a private conversation.”

“I said I was sorry!” Draco shouted, “I was curious, I wanted to know what was happening!”

“And you did not think to ask me?”

“Would you have answered?”

“That is neither here nor there. When I tell you to do something, I expect it to be done immediately and without question. While tonight’s conversation was relatively innocent in nature, what if it had been something more serious? What if the knowledge could have made you a target or gotten you killed?”

“I already AM a target!” Draco shouted, “In case you’ve forgotten, I am just as much of a target as you are, as Potter is!”

Severus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, “Just go upstairs, I can’t even stand to look at you right now. I cannot believe that in a house with two sixteen year old boys I will still need to resort to silencing charms in order to maintain my privacy.”

Draco turned to leave, but stopped just short of the stairs, “Is it true? Does Harry really read his mind? I’ve heard rumors, but I didn’t know…”

“It’s not really ‘reading his mind’,” Severus said quietly, “But he is able to...witness…certain events through a link that binds them. I do not want you speaking to him of this link and if I find out in any way that you are tormenting him with the knowledge you gained by eavesdropping, the students will find several containers of ‘Bottled Draco’ in my potions lab next term.”

“Dumbledore seemed concerned.”

“The Dark Lord is also able to plant fake visions into Harry’s mind, at least, at one point the had…it led to the mishap at the ministry before term ended. If Harry had been able to distinguish between what was really happening and what the Dark Lord wanted him to believe was happening, things would be much different now.”

“My father would not be in prison.”

“His godfather would not be dead.”

Draco’s jaw fell open, “His godfather?”

“Sirius Black,” Severus spat out, “He was killed by Death Eaters as he tried to save Harry and his friends. Had Harry been able to control the link with the Dark Lord, the mutt’s life would have been spared.”

Neither noticed the pale raven-haired boy sitting at the top of the stairs, unshed tears glistening in his eyes. He rubbed his eyes before whispering, “I’m so sorry Sirius.” The rest of the conversation between Snape and Malfoy was lost as he wrapped his arms around his knees, trying in vain to stop his emotions from bubbling up to the surface again.

~~~

Dinner was painfully silent.

Severus didn’t fail to notice that while Draco quietly ate his portions and made only the bare minimum amount of small talk, Harry pushed food around on his plate and refused to lift his eyes from the sleek table.

For what seemed like the hundredth time, he made another attempt to get the boys talking, “How are you coming on summer studies?”

“I’ve started on my potions assignment, I have about half a foot done already, and I’ve read the required part of the transfiguration text.” Draco responded, pausing mid-sentence to take a sip of his juice, “I honestly don’t see the point though, it’s not as if anyone knows what they’ll be taking next term until the OWL results come in.”

Severus swallowed a bite of his roast before speaking, “I’m sure you’ll find that most sixth year students take the same core classes as before--charms, transfiguration, defense against the dark arts. As for the other classes you may not continue with, it never hurts to broaden your knowledge. Harry, how are you coming with your studies?”

“I’m finished.” Harry said quietly, pushing his potatoes from one side of his plate to the other, “I’ve finished my essays and I’ve begun to read most of the sixth year texts.” He neglected to mention that he had already read through them once already and was beginning his second time.

“If you would like, I can take a look at your essays and show you where you need to make alterations.” Severus offered, “It’s nice to see you taking your schoolwork so seriously.”

“Bound to happen eventually.” Harry murmured, now pushing his peas around, “May I be excused?”

“You’ve hardly touched your meal. Are you still feeling unwell?”

Harry’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment at his earlier actions and he forced a bite of potatoes into this mouth, barely able to swallow past the lump in his throat. He couldn’t get the look of fear on Seamus’s face out of his mind. He took a sip of his juice before raising his eyes to meet his professor’s in a questioning gaze.

“One bite of food isn’t enough to sustain a growing teenager, especially since you haven’t bothered to eat all day. If you are unwell, you may go up to your room to rest and I will bring you a nutrient potion. If not, I would suggest eating instead of playing with your food like an impetulent child.”

Harry flinched at his professor’s cold tone and debated over whether or not he should take Snape up on his offer of retreat. He was fairly certain that Snape didn’t know he wasn’t ill, so it wouldn’t seem odd, but at the same time he didn’t want either Draco or Snape to think he was a weakling who wasn’t able to eat a meal without theatrics.

He took another bite and tried not to gag on it, barely successful, and pushed his plate away, “I’m going to lie down.”

~~~

Harry hadn’t been upstairs for maybe two minutes when Severus walked into the boys’ bedroom, a frown on his face as he sat next to Harry, who had his face buried in his pillow.

“Would you like to talk about whatever is bothering you?” he asked awkwardly, feeling as uncomfortable as humanly possible as he waited for the boy to answer, “I know we aren’t friendly by any means, but whatever it is, I promise I will be honest with you.”

Harry shook his head, “I just want to be alone.”

“You’ve been alone for weeks now, Harry.” Severus replied, “I’ve given you space, I’ve left you alone, I’ve done everything I can think of to try and help you, but I don’t know what else to do…I’m new to this situation, having someone in your home to care for is much, much different than being a head of house. I need you to tell me how I can help you.”

“No one can help me.” Harry murmured, “I’m beyond help.”

“That’s not true.” Severus replied quietly, the last bit of his usual malice fading from his tone, “I know you may feel that way right now, but you are definitely not beyond help.”

“I feel bad.”

“What is it? Your head--your scar? Your stomach?” Severus asked, worry creeping into his voice. He had assumed Harry’s illness earlier that afternoon was Voldemort related, but perhaps he was wrong. It was difficult enough to be a caregiver for a careless teen, it would be much harder to care for a sick teen.

Harry mumbled a response into his pillow, too low for Severus to hear. His hand on Harry’s back--oh, it pained him to put his hands on the son of his bitter rival--he spoke softly, “Come again?”

“Not like that.” Harry whispered, turning his head to the side, away from Severus, “Well, my head does hurt, but it’s been hurting for weeks. I feel like I’m a bad person.”

Once the words were spoken, the air in the room seemed to grow thicker. Severus felt the boy’s back begin to shake as he started to cry, and he himself felt like crying out of frustration. He was in over his head, he had no idea how to help this child. If he had the answers to depression, he never would have joined Voldemort’s ranks when he was not much older than Harry.

Awkwardly, Severus rubbed Harry’s back in soft circles, “You most certainly are not a bad person. Careless at times, reckless? Yes, you are those. Brave to the point of being foolish? Perhaps. But you are not a bad person.”

“It’s my fault.” Harry choked out before burying his face in his pillow once more.

Severus grabbed Harry’s shoulder, rolling him over against the boy’s protests, “What is your fault?”

“Everything. Cedric….Sirius….Seamus…it’s all because of me.”

Severus felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him and he grabbed both of Harry’s shoulders, shaking him several times, “No! No, Harry! You foolish child!”

Harry just started to cry harder, on the verge of hyperventilation for the second time that day, struggling to free himself from Severus’s firm grip.

“You can’t possibly believe that, did you turn your wand on them? Did you set up elaborate schemes to lure them into a trap?”

“I may as well have!” Harry cried out, jerking his arm away from his professor, “I…he….I…”

Severus pulled Harry into a tight embrace, more to restrain the boy than to provide comfort, although it only took a few minutes before Harry began to calm. His heart raced as he tried to think of what he could possibly tell this child to pull him from the sea of grief and guilt that he was drowning in. He had no idea that the child had blamed himself for Cedric’s death, he was starting to wonder now if anyone had even bothered to talk to Harry about the loss of his schoolmate. He had figured Harry felt some sort of guilt for Sirius, it would be nearly impossible for him not to, given the circumstances.

At least one positive thing came from this, Harry would now have to acknowledge he was still receiving visions from the Dark Lord and they could resume their occulmency lessons, despite how poorly the effort ended. Right now, for the boy’s sanity, it was much more important to try and block out the Dark Lord rather than fuel a petty rivalry from many years ago.

Harry’s tears slowed and he pulled away from his professor, rubbing his eyes, “You’re wrong.”

“Am I?”

“It is my fault. At the end of the Tournament, I we reached the cup together. Cedric urged me to take it, I suggested we take it together. The cup was a portkey, it brought us to the graveyard where he was killed. If I hadn’t insisted we both share the glory, he would still be alive.”

“Did you know the cup was a portkey? Did you intentionally try to place Mr. Diggory in harm’s way?”

“No. But--”

“No buts, you are not to blame. Cedric was in the wrong place at the wrong time, as are many of those who suffer at the hands of the Dark Lord. Many, many innocent people have died similarly, getting in the way of his mission.”

Harry shook his head, “You just don’t understand.”

“I understand completely,” Severus said gently, “Have you ever known me to lie to you?”

“No.”

“Then believe me when I tell you it wasn’t your fault. If it were, I would not hesitate in telling you so.”

“Sirius’s death was completely my fault.” Harry said quietly, his eyes brimming with tears once more, “I may as well have turned my wand on him.”

Severus sighed, knowing there was absolutely nothing he would be able to truthfully tell the child without reaffirming his beliefs. It wasn’t that Severus felt he was guilty, the only person guilty of murder that night was Bellatrix Lestrange, but it was no secret that there was no love lost between himself and Sirius Black, and he couldn’t think of a single reassuring word to say about the deceased man.

Sighing, he gave Harry a soft smile, “He died happy. He had said numerous times during Order meetings that he’d die to protect you…he was aching to get out of the house, he died doing something he loved. He died a happy man, Harry.”

“I killed him.”

Severus could see the tears welling up in Harry’s eyes once more, and his mind worked quickly to come up with something reassuring to tell the boy. Even though Severus had spent the last 5 years chipping away at Harry’s over-inflated ego and found himself quite amused by riling the boy up, he now wanted nothing more than to take some of the child’s pain away.

“You did nothing of the sort. I should have known you were up to you foolish antics when you mentioned him in Umbridge’s office, I should have intervened at that point, but I chose to fire call headquarters instead.”

“Hermione warned me that I have a ’saving people thing’ and that I was overreacting. I should have listened to her. She knows everything.” Harry sniffed, staring up at the ceiling, “I tried to check, that stupid elf said he was gone, I should have tried harder…”

“Nonsense. You thought you had proof he was in danger. It was foolish of you to act on that danger, but after 5 years of such behavior it should have been expected of you. No one blames you, not at all. You shouldn’t blame yourself.”

Harry shook his head, rolling away from Severus, “I want to be alone, please.”

“As you wish.” Severus replied, trying to conceal the sadness of his tone of voice. He had never felt so utterly useless around a student before. “May I ask you to reconsider dinner?”

“Not hungry.” Harry muttered.

With a heavy sigh, Severus stood and exited the room, opening the door to find Draco on the other side.

As the door shut behind him, Draco’s gaze turned accusatory, “What the hell was that?”

“What the hell was that?” Draco demanded, his arms crossed over his chest.  

Severus hesitated, debating over whether or not to start demanding an explanation over the apparent eavesdropping or the disrespectful attitude, but was interrupted as Draco glared at him, anger evident on his pale face.  

“You’re just going to let it go? He’s in the middle of a breakdown and you just decide it’s okay for him to be alone? Are you daft?” 

Severus couldn’t believe his ears. Draco Malfoy, taking Harry Potter’s side? He had to be confunded. With his trademark sneer he retorted, “Excuse me?” 

“He could be suicidal or something, how can you just leave him alone like that?” 

Yes. Draco Malfoy was definitely sticking up for Harry Potter. Someone alert the Daily Prophet. Severus smirked, his arms crossing over his chest in a similar fashion to the 16 year old boy in front of him, “Why Draco, I didn’t think you cared.” 

“I don’t!” Draco exclaimed, apprehension evident on his face, “I just don’t want to go to bed tonight and find the-boy-who-died on that unsightly Gryffindor red bed of his. Imagine me being exhausted and ready to sleep and then having to put up with aurors traipsing through the house and my room, keeping me awake to Merlin-knows-when.” 

Snape’s lips curled into a faint smile, it was obvious Draco was lying. Draco had never been a good liar, something that Lucius had always warned would 'tarnish the Malfoy name'. He was slightly curious as to why Draco was having a change of heart, wondering if it had something to do with his rejection of the Dark Lord, but decided they could broach that subject later. For now, he had to decide whether or not to justify his actions to an obnoxious, insolent boy.  

“Well aren’t you going to answer me?” Draco demanded, his eyes narrowing, “Or do you want him to die? That’s your plan, isn’t it? You don’t get to torture him enough during the term, so you are going to let him off himself over the summer.” 

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes at Draco’s melodramatic statement, Severus responded, “You know as I do that I do not, nor have I ever wanted, Harry Potter dead. Now would you stop with the theatrics? You are starting to sound like one of the ’Golden Trio’, specifically a certain hot-tempered redhead.”  

“Don’t you dare compare me to that weasel!” Draco replied hotly, “I am nothing like that common blood-traitor.” 

Severus raised an eyebrow, “Oh really? Defending Harry Potter against ’the greasy git of the dungeons’? That’s a very Gryffindor thing to do, Mr. Malfoy.” 

He suppressed a smile as he watched Draco’s internal battle between continuing in this pointless argument, storming away or pulling out his wand to hex his godfather to even suggest such an idea. In the end, ’storming away’ won out and Draco’s glared at him, muttering something undoubtedly vulgar under his breath before storming off in the other direction.  

Severus was glad for the silence, it gave him a chance to reflect on what had just happened. He had been waiting for some sort of emotional outburst from Harry since the summer began, he hadn’t thought it would take so long, and he was surprised at what he had learned about the boy in their short conversation. He knew Harry was holding back, why would he trust his most hated professor with more than he was forced to share?, and he hoped that in time he’d be able to open up to him more completely. If not, there were always occulmency lessons to use to his advantage if necessary. After all, having so much bottled up emotions would be disastrous for the side of the light should the Dark Lord attack unexpectedly or, perhaps, in the midst of a angst-filled emotional breakdown.  

He sat down in the library, opening a potions journal, his mind on Harry. Shaking his head, he reasoned with himself that the only reason he was bothering was because without Harry to win the battle with Voldemort, they’d all be dead. He didn’t care for the boy, just his status. He snorted lightly, wondering how many times he’d have to tell himself that lie before it began to come true. 

~~~ 

“Can I come in?” 

“Sure. It’s your room too.” 

Draco pushed the door open and walked slowly to his bed, using the few moments to study the other boy carefully. He wasn’t sure how to react to what he had overheard, the raw pain that was clearly evident in his rival’s words. He didn’t want to behave in his normal hateful manner, after all, the boy was clearly depressed and on edge and he didn’t want to further contribute to the situation. On the other hand, he wasn’t supposed to know Harry was on the brink of a breakdown and he didn’t want to let on that he knew.  

It was hard to act like he hated the other boy every second of the day. Sure, Potter was an annoying prat who always seemed to find the perfect opportunity to knock him down a few pegs or catch him while he was misbehaving, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the challenge of a good duel or even a good argument every now and then. 

After discovering what he had about Potter during the day, he was finding it very difficult to muster up the amount of hatred and annoyance he usually saved for the other boy. It was so much easier when Harry was just ’the boy who lived’ and not an actual person with weaknesses and emotions. 

“Do you want to go flying? We’ve got awhile before it gets dark.” 

“Are you asking me to play with you?” Harry asked incredulously, “Did you hit your head today?” 

“Don’t flatter yourself, Potter.” Draco drawled, “I only asked because I’m bored to tears in this house and there is absolutely nothing else to occupy my time.” 

Draco was honestly surprised when the raven-haired boy agreed, and he quickly ushered Harry out before he could change his mind. Though he’d never admit it to anyone, he could barely understand it himself!, he found himself relieved that his long-time rival agreed and was looking forward to the small excursion.  

~~~ 

Harry stifled a yawn, his head still pounding from a mixture of exhaustion and emotion, as he lazily looped around the grounds, Draco a few feet away. If anyone had told him a month ago that he would be hanging out with Draco Malfoy and enjoying himself, he would have laughed.  

This was only the second time he had been flying at Severus’s; even though he had spent the majority of a month at his home and had been given ample opportunity to do so. Before now flying had seemed inappropriate to him, like the very idea of something enjoyable was desecrating Sirius’s memory.  

He still felt slightly uncomfortable at the idea of enjoying himself so soon after he had caused his godfather’s death, but he had been unable to resist the temptation and had needed the fresh air the evening had to offer. He was surprised Draco had invited him, although he could see how the blonde was bored. If he hadn’t kept himself busy studying and reading all summer, he probably would have been bored out of his skull as well.  

He let his eyes close for a moment, the wind hitting his face with a light sting, and he felt relaxed for the first time in weeks. In the air it didn’t matter who he was, what he had done or who he had wronged. In the air he was just Harry Potter, talented flyer and seeker for the Gryffindor team. He wasn’t an idiot who didn’t know the difference between dreams and visions, he wasn’t a murderer, he wasn’t fated to kill the most powerful dark wizard in recent times.  

“Hey Potter, want to race?”  Draco’s voice called out through the wind, snapping Harry away from his thoughts.

Flashing one of the few genuine smiles he had been able to produce this summer, he nodded, quickly catching up to the other boy, “And wipe that smug smile off your face? I’d be delighted.” 

Draco glared at Harry, but even Harry could tell his heart really wasn’t into it, and began to give instructions on their boundaries and the rules of play. Within moments, both were whizzing through the air, their figures blurring in the sky as they raced head-to-head.  

Harry had taken the lead by a mere foot when he realized they were in trouble. 

~~~ 

Draco watched Harry fly, a faraway look in the boy’s emerald eyes, with a hint of concern. Harry wasn’t flying with his usual gusto and he still didn’t seem himself.  

Draco was not a fan of this Harry. This Harry was quiet and subdued, too much so, and while he was easier to get along with than the fiery Harry he knew from school, it bothered Draco to see his rival this way. Aside from the fact that this Harry was different from his Harry and Draco despised not being able to anticipate the reaction of others, especially those he was conditioned to be rivals with, this Harry could not possibly be strong enough to defeat the Dark Lord. This thought alone caused butterflies to flutter in Draco’s stomach, wondering if he had chosen the wrong time to join the side of light. 

Even when he absolutely loathed the Gryffindor, he would not doubt that Harry was a powerful wizard. He had seen and heard of his classmate’s heroics and battles throughout their school years and while he felt quite confident in his own dueling skills, he knew Harry was slightly, if not remarkably, superior in that area. The boy could barely make a correct third-year potion, but he had fought Voldemort several times without losing his life. That alone demanded respect for Harry’s skill as a wizard.  

But this Harry, this shell of the wizard he had spent the last several years antagonizing, lacked the passion that it took to excel in escapades like the Golden Trio frequently engaged in. Unless the old Harry returned, which Draco felt was inevitable since he had seen flickers of the recognizable Harry since arriving at Snape’s, the side of light was in dire straits. He decided to make it his personal mission to bring Harry back to his proper frame of mind.  

It wasn’t because he missed the Harry he was familiar with, it was purely to save himself; after all, it was hardly worth switching sides of the fight if Harry wouldn’t live up to his duty as the boy-who-lived.  

“Hey Potter, want to race?” Draco asked as he watched those emerald eyes droop closed briefly.  

Harry accepted his challenge, albeit arrogantly, and flashed Draco a smile. Now this was the Harry he knew!  

They sped through the air, and Draco clenched his teeth, trying to stay in the lead. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, and glancing at his opponent, he felt a bit of the weight that had settled on his chest after hearing Harry’s confessions to Snape earlier begin to dissolve. He’d be able to snap Potter from this funk with no problem if all it took was a bit of flying to cheer the sullen boy up!  

Harry pushed slightly into the lead, and almost instantaneously Draco felt a slight tingly sensation from head to toe followed by a sudden intensely overpowering feeling of dread. Glancing at Harry, he could tell the other boy felt it as well. Looking over his shoulder he could no longer see the house.  

Harry turned and tried to go back in the direction he had come from, only to be blocked by an invisible barrier. In a voice that sounded nearly as sick as Draco felt at that very moment, Harry gasped, “I think we went out of the wards.” 

~~~ 

Harry felt the blood drain from his face, and as a wave of dizziness and nausea flooded through him he wondered if he would fall off of his broom. He and Draco were two of Voldemort’s most wanted opponents, they were unguarded and helpless, and they had exited the wards of Snape’s residence. Snape’s untraceable, fidelus-protected, invisible-to-onlookers residence. Snape had no idea where they were, and they had no idea how to get back.  

He raised a hand to his throbbing forehead, pressing hard to try and stop the tremor of his hands as he reached out with the other and touched the barrier, only to feel a jolt of pain shoot through his arm. His hand went to his back pocket, only to find it empty. Oh Merlin, his wand was in his bedroom! He was such an idiot! The whole wizarding world is at war, and his wand--the wand that was destined to kill Voldemort!--was sitting on his bed. ‘Great job, Harry,’ he chided mentally before turning to look at Draco.  

“Do you have your wand?” 

Draco reached into his pocket before cursing loudly.  

“Yeah, me neither.” Harry muttered, his now-constant headache flaring even worse, “We’re screwed.”  

“How can you not have your wand?” Draco shouted, “Are you mental?” 

If looks could kill, Voldemort would be spared the trouble of killing the two teens, as they would have completed the job themselves.  

“Shut up, I’m trying to figure out what to do next…and don’t even start with me on not having my wand, you don’t have yours either.” Harry snapped, pressing his hand against his temples in a vain attempt to lessen the throbbing pain. He couldn’t concentrate with his pulse echoing through his head, not to mention Draco’s holier-than-thou attitude.  

Not that silence would make any bit of difference, there was no way to get back onto Snape’s land without being escorted by their caregiver himself and without wands, food and shelter their survival wasn’t looking too promising either. It would be dark soon, and while no one knew exactly where the potion’s master’s home was, it was quite possible that the death eaters had a general idea and could be staking out the area. 

Harry made eye contact with the blonde once more, surprised to see the other boy looking at him expectantly, “What?” 

“What’s the plan?” Draco asked, “You do have a plan, don’t you?” 

“Not a good one.” Harry muttered, “We need to find shelter before someone finds us. I have no idea how to do that without a wand and I have no idea where we are so it‘s unlikely we‘ll be able to find shelter before nightfall.” 

“We can send a letter to Snape and have him come look for us.” Draco suggested, “I’m sure he knows the way around the area.” 

Harry shook his head, scanning their surroundings for a place they could hide, “Where would we get an owl?”

He briefly looked at Draco, who wore a scowl now, and then resumed taking in his surroundings, “Besides, I would think he’d have a way of knowing if the wards had been breeched, he’s probably trying to locate us now. We need to find somewhere that will keep us hidden from Death Eaters but would allow Snape to find us.” 

“Good luck with that.” Draco commented dryly, “A hidden place that’s not too hidden. That is utterly ridiculous. I thought you were good at living on the edge. How on earth did you manage to survive the last few years with such lousy survival skills?” 

“I don’t see you suggesting anything.” Harry replied with a glare, “If you want to fly around and search for an owl, or just wait here for a miracle, by all means, go ahead. I’m going to find somewhere to take shelter, though.” 

Harry tilted his broom up, rising a few feet higher as he tried to decide between the group of trees to the left of the clearing they were in or the river to the right. All he knew was that he couldn’t stay here, exposed to anyone and everyone who would pass by with nowhere to take cover if curses started flying towards him.  

In the end, the trees seemed to provide a bit more cover and safety and he slowly flew into the woods, hoping Draco would follow. As annoying as the other boy tended to be, he didn’t want to spend the night alone and he didn’t feel right about leaving Malfoy exposed when it was known he was wanted dead. Though he’d never admit it, he was relieved when Draco appeared at his side, muttering something about it being on Harry’s head if he was killed by some horrible magical creature in the forest and how he was going to keep looking for owls.  

After circling the forest several times, Harry as still unable to find somewhere for them to hide, and much to the displeasure of both he and his companion he decided to settle himself in the branches of a tree, hoping he’d be shielded enough to keep them from harm. Draco perched himself on a limb next to Harry’s and frowned in distaste, but remained silent.  

“We should take turns sleeping and keeping watch.” Harry said quietly, “It’s probably getting late.”  

The sun had gone down, but instead of moonlight they were left in darkness, clouds obscuring the little light they’d be able to take advantage of under normal circumstances. Draco gave a grunt in response, which Harry took as agreement, and he whispered, “You sleep first, I’ll watch out for Snape.” Or death eaters, although Harry dared not speak that thought. The last thing he needed was to be reminded that whoever found them, aside from Snape, would be rewarded many, many galleons by Voldemort for their capture.  

~~~ 

It was late, Draco was cold and the approaching thunder and lightning did nothing to soothe his nerves. What was worse than being stuck in a tree with Harry-bloody-Potter? Being stuck in a tree, during a storm, with Harry-bloody-Potter.  

His stomach growled as he stared aimlessly into the distance, unsure why he even bothered since he couldn’t see anything except a blanket of blackness. He estimated it to be in the early hours of morning, although he couldn’t be sure. He had slept for awhile before the uncomfortable branch rendered him unable to sleep any longer, and he offered to keep watch while Harry got some rest…although he was fairly certain Harry was not sleeping.  

He jumped as another clap of lightning took him by surprised and by the rustle of leaves beside him he would guess that Harry had been startled as well. He had to admit that while his accommodations were quite uncomfortable, the idea of hiding in the tree was a good one. It would be hard to spot them unless they were being specifically looked for there, and it gave them a good view of what was coming or going, at least, once daylight broke through it would.  

He heard the leaves rustle again and he whispered, “Can’t sleep?” 

“No.” Harry replied, his voice laced with exhaustion, “Want me to take over?” 

“I’m not tired either.” Draco said quietly, “It’s going to start raining soon. I’ve been trying to produce a wandless weather shield but so far it’s not happening.” 

“I’ve tried too.” Harry admitted, “I’m still pretty limited on wandless charms. My wandless defense is better, if that reassures you any.” 

“Only slightly.” Draco replied in a bored tone, although he did feel quite relieved. He had yet to manage much wandless magic besides a simple wingardium leviosa and accio.  

The silence was slowly killing him.  

“Do you think he’s looking for us?” 

“Snape or Voldemort?” Harry retorted, silent for a moment before answering, “Yes…to both.” 

“You just can’t resist the melodrama, can you?” Draco huffed, “I doubt the death eaters even know this place exists, much less that we’ve breached the wards. I’m more worried about what Severus is going to do to us when he finds us. He warned where the boundaries were and I’m sure he’ll just be thrilled to know I went through them anyway.” 

“I think you’re wrong.” 

“Oh yeah, because he’ll just be jumping with joy that we were out all night and blatantly ignored his rules.” Draco replied sarcastically, resisting the urge to push the other boy out of the tree. 

“No, you were right about that.” Harry whispered, “I think you are wrong about the death eaters and Voldemort.” 

“Well I just hope you’re wrong about that.” Draco muttered, “The last thing we need is death eaters right now.”

He didn’t even want to think about the possibility of death eaters in their general vicinity, much less the idea of being found by them. He shuddered slightly before giving a slight cough, “Are you sure you don’t want to get any more sleep?” 

Harry once again declined and Draco bit his lip, slightly concerned. Before they had even started flying, Harry looked exhausted, he was practically falling asleep on his broom. While Draco didn’t have a watch, he was fairly certain Harry hadn’t slept for more than an hour or two, if he had actually slept at all, and the boy would be no use if he collapsed from exhaustion in the midst of an attack. He quickly dispelled that thought, though, since he didn’t even want to imagine the possibility of a death eater attack.  

They sat in silence for awhile, the sounds of their breathing muffled by the now-howling wind and thunder looming overhead.  

Draco had never been scared of a storm before, but he found himself with more than just a smidge of worry as the first few raindrops started to fall, the sky illuminated by a bolt of lightning. As the wind picked up once more, blowing stinging raindrops onto his face, Draco rubbed his eyes and let out a growl of frustration.  

“We can’t just sit here and be rained on, if the wind gets much worse we could be knocked to the ground.” Draco hissed, “We need to find a better place to hide.” 

“There is nowhere else.” Harry replied, his voice strained, “I know this isn’t ideal, but I don’t know what else to tell you. When we first looked for a place to take shelter, I looked for caves, even logs, but I wasn’t able to find anything. This is all we’ve got.” 

Draco wrapped his arms tightly around himself, shivering, and suddenly wished more than ever that he was back in his room at Malfoy Manor, wrapped in his green blanket, a fire roaring, house elves waiting on him hand and foot. He’d even be happy to deal with his father’s wrath if it got him out of this damn tree and back inside of a civilized home.  

Lightning lit the sky once more, and Draco got a glimpse of Harry, who was also sitting with his arms around his knees, shivering. He was alarmed at how pale the other boy was, although he wasn’t quite sure how he himself looked after spending the night outside. His concern was pushed aside, however, as the clouds opened up and rain started to pour down on top of them.  

“Draco?” 

“Yeah?” 

“If Snape finds us and brings us back to his place, I’m never flying there again.” 

“I don’t think he’d even give us the opportunity.” Draco responded dryly, “But I feel the same way.” 

~~~ 

Severus cursed loudly as rain began to fall, this would only hinder his search even more than the dark sky. He had been relentlessly searching for his missing teenagers since the alarm sounded that the wards had been breached. He had wasted precious time searching the house for intruders and the children only to realize they must have been the ones to cross the barrier. After all, if an abduction had taken place there would have been signs of a struggle. Death eaters weren’t exactly known for leaving things intact during an attack.  

His diagnosis of the wards had led him to a small clearing of land north east of his home. The boys weren’t there, but he had figured that would be the case. Between the two of them, Draco and Harry would have had the common sense to seek shelter. He had searched near the river that ran nearly halfway down the edge of his property line, assuming it would be the logical place for the boys to take refuge; they’d need water to survive, after all. That search had left him empty-handed, so he continued to make his way around the property, his search heavily impeded by the moonless night and approaching storm.  

It was hard to say which emotion was stronger, raw fury that the boys had left the safety of his home while knowing the dangers awaiting them or concern for their well-being. It was cold at night, even in the summer, and he doubted they had dressed appropriately for the night chill. He was relatively certain there were no death eaters lurking about, but that didn’t stop him from jumping as the wind rustled through the leaves.  

‘Those boys are going to be in so much trouble,’ he fumed, ’Just wait until I get my hands on them, spending the night lost in the rain will be a picnic compared to whatever punishments I decide!’ 

The rain pounded against his weather shield and he hoped that one of the boys had the good sense to have a wand. He had spotted a wand in their bedroom, but didn’t observe it closely enough to determine which child it belonged to. He hadn’t seen a second one, so he could only assume both weren’t complete and utter dolts.  

He groaned as he reached the forest, he had been hoping he wouldn’t have to enter it. The vast amount of trees, not to mention creatures!, would make his search ten times harder…of course, maybe that had been their idea all along, Harry wasn’t exactly an amateur at saving his own life. 

He slid on a patch of mud, once again cursing the children for making him come out here in the pouring rain in the dead of night. As he landed on his back, a bolt of lightning illuminated the sky and he was able to make out the trembling forms of Draco and Harry on the limbs above him.  

He stood, brushing off his robes and commanded, “Harry Potter! Draco Malfoy! Get down here this instant!” 

Before he even had a chance to register what was happening, Draco screamed and he was being knocked to the ground again as something--someone, actually--tumbled from the tree.

“I think he’s overreacting just a tad.”

“Overreacting?” Harry asked incredulously, “We knew not to cross the boundaries, we’re lucky he didn’t cut us into potions pieces. A few days of being confined to our room is getting off easy.”

“Are you serious? He should be grateful we’re alive and unharmed! You could have died falling out of that tree—“

“If he hadn’t broken my fall.”

“We could have been eaten by some sort of creature, we could have froze to death, we could—“

Harry rubbed his aching temples, wanting nothing more than to find a roll of tape to shut his roommate up, “I get it, but really, it could have been worse.”

Draco ignored Harry, and Harry used the brief silence to roll onto his stomach and open a book. Maybe, just maybe, if Draco saw he was doing something else, he’d stop carrying on about their grounding. After all, it really could have been worse. After seeing Snape’s look of fury, Harry had expected to be sent back to his relatives to spend the rest of his summer being forced into chores with the threat of a beating if he didn’t do exactly what they expected of him. And what they expected of him was to pretend like he wasn’t a wizard. That he wasn’t himself.

Sometimes, he didn’t blame them. He wasn’t a huge fan of himself most of the time, lately. While they branded him as a freak because of his magic, he felt like an even bigger freak because of his fame, his link to Voldemort, his knack for those around him being murdered. Sometimes he wished he was someone else, anyone else! Even knowing his own faults and shortcomings, though, he was more than relieved not to be at the Dursley’s.

He had spent a lot of time contemplating exactly how screwed up he must be, mentally, to prefer the company of Snape and Malfoy, the two people who hate him nearly as much as Voldemort does, over his own family. He had come to the conclusion that: one, it was dangerous and depressing to spend too much time thinking, and two, his relatives were possibly the most vile creatures on the planet.

“We should insist that we take meals in our room, in the spirit of being imprisoned here for the next few days.”

Harry rolled his eyes, more than a little irritated with Draco’s constant complaining, “I think we should just do what he wants in order to avoid further punishment. We’re lucky he let us off easily; I don’t think he’d be inclined to look the other way if we intentionally try to rile him up. At least he’s letting us have meals; things could be a lot worse.”

Draco chose to ignore Harry once more, in what seemed to be a trend when Harry was the voice of reason, and Harry started to skim through his defense against the dark arts book. Snape had definitely been angry with them. There was no mistaking the fury in his expression, the hard black rage in his eyes. He had apparated them back straight into their room, and after briefly checking to make sure neither boy had any injuries that needed repair, he had started in on a lecture about the stupidity of their actions and how they must absolutely want to be captured by death eaters.

Harry had heard Snape’s speech on his idiocy before, so it wasn’t as traumatizing as Snape had probably intended it. By the vague expression on Draco’s face, it was probably not the first time he had heard this particular lecture either. After the lecture came the punishment, a minimum of three days confinement to their room, which had the option of being extended if Snape still ‘felt it necessary’ after the three days had ended. Harry was certain their punishment would be extended, it wasn’t as if Snape ever really needed an excuse to come down hard on Harry for nothing at all, and this time he had a legitimate excuse for his temperament. After being told that they should work on schoolwork and not to even attempt to step foot out of the room unless they wanted their extremities slowly extricated from their bodies and turned into ingredient for his NEWT level classes, Snape had reassured him that they would indeed not die of boredom from staring at the same four walls, because they would be allowed for an hour three times per day for meals and a tad of fresh air. All in all, the punishment was very fair considering the number of rules they had broken and the way they had endangered themselves. At least they wouldn’t be starved or thrashed.

Things could definitely be a lot worse.

~~

Draco let out another angry sigh, trying in vain to gather some support in his lamenting from his roommate. He could not believe they had been banished to their room for days and that he hadn’t been able to talk his godfather out of their punishment. Sure, Severus was known for being a stickler for his own rules, but outside of a school setting he sometimes relaxed a bit. Apparently this was not the case today. 

What was worse than the punishment, though, is that he had no one to brood about it with, Harry was more than content to stay in their room reading. Severus should have anticipated that and dealt out a punishment accordingly. Giving Harry the option to hide away from the world was more of a privilege than a punishment. It just wasn’t fair!

And more importantly, what was he supposed to do for three days?! Schoolwork could only take so long before he was left completely and utterly bored. He had never wished he could do summer magic more than he did at this very moment. If he had his wand, he could create something to do, some sort of entertainment.

“I hope he lets us out of here soon for breakfast, I’m starving. You would think he would be a little more compassionate to the fact that we were stranded outdoors all night and are in need of a warm meal.”

He had expected Harry to agree with this at least, but when his roommate muttered something about not being hungry, he felt his own temper rise a bit. Could Potter never do anything normally? What would it take to get him riled up enough to at least develop some sort of camaraderie about their situation? He had seen Potter get upset over much less at school, and he suspected Harry was being nonchalant about this just to bother him.

It made sense, after all, Potter usually liked to see Draco miserable.

He had hoped that they had made some sort of progress in their friendship—if you could call it a friendship, it was more of an understanding/acceptance than anything. At least if Harry was on his side he would be more willing to go against Severus’s ‘do your homework’ rule and engage in a game of gobstones or exploding snap.

He was about to offer a game when Severus appeared in the doorway, “Wash up and be dowsnstairs in five minutes to eat.”

Draco was immediately on his feet and moving towards the washroom, but he stopped when he noticed Harry wasn’t following. Looking back at the other boy curiously, Harry whispered, “I’m not hungry.”

“I don’t think attendance is optional.” Draco countered, studying Harry carefully. Since he had arrived, he hadn’t seen Harry eat a normal meal and he had noticed the other boy was significantly thinner than usual. He knew Harry was depressed, and he knew that Severus knew. So why would Severus let him starve himself?

“Just let Snape know I’m not hungry, would you?”

Draco nodded curtly before going to wash his face and hands. He felt an unfamiliar sensation of worry bubbling in his chest, but decided to write it off as worry that he’d be hearing the ‘you endangered your life’ speech alone throughout his meal without having to share the  blame with his co-conspirator. After all, there was no way he could be worried about Harry Potter!

When Draco arrived downstairs, it was clear that his godfather was not pleased to see only one boy.

“Where is Potter?”

There was no mistaking the barely controlled anger in his voice, and Draco winced slightly as he imagined Severus swooping in on Harry and putting him in his place.

“He said he’s not hungry. Do you want me to get him anyway?”

He was shocked when Severus told him no and they sat down at the table together. Pleasantly surprised by the lack of mention about their nightly escapade, Draco dug into his meal with the gusto only a teenage boy can emulate.

They ate in silence for a few moments before Severus spoke, “Are the two of you getting along?”

“As well as we can, I suppose.” Draco replied after swallowing a bite of his food, “I still want to throttle him sometimes, but for the most part I just try to ignore what a prat he is.”

“That’s very mature of you.”

“I know.”

“Cheeky brat.” Severus smirked, before turning somber once more, “I think you two would make powerful allies if you would put in the effort. This summer is a great opportunity for both of you, there is no one to separate you and with only each other to confide in, a friendship would not be unheard of. Now that you are on the other side of the war, it wouldn’t hurt to have a powerful ally.”

“I’ve put some thought into it.” Draco murmured, “But I doubt friendship is anywhere on Potter’s mind, he seems more interested in isolating himself and burying his head into books.”

“He is a very compassionate person, perhaps if you shared some battle stories from your home life and the pressures which have been exerted upon you, he would be inclined to ‘take you under his protection’, so to speak.”

“As if I need protection from a Potter.”

“You know what I mean, Draco.” Severus chastised, “Just think about it.”

Draco nodded and finished his meal quickly. The idea of being told to befriend Harry was a bit unsettling, not to mention the idea of revealing some sordid family secrets made him feel sick and ashamed. No, that would be unnecessary. So far, he and Harry had been getting along pretty decently, considering their past, and he’d build off of that. And not because Snape wanted him to, but because he would do anything to help make this summer pass quickly and painlessly given the vast amount of nothing to do.

He excused himself to retire to his room, acutely aware that he was still “free” from his room for 25 minutes and was sacrificing the little free time he had away from his confines. Upon arriving, he was more than a little surprised to see his roommate asleep on his bed, and after remembering their sleepless night, he didn’t object to a nap himself.

He had only been asleep for a few minutes when he was torn from his slumber by a terrified scream. Jerked back into reality, he sat up, fear clutching his chest. Looking automatically to Harry’s side of the room, he realized that the agonizing shrieks were coming from the raven-haired boy. He scrambled out of bed and to Harry’s side, shaking his shoulders roughly and calling out to him, with no result.

Harry writhed around on the bed, his face chalk white as he screamed, his arms swinging wildly to lash out at anything he could, and Draco barely managed to avoid a few punches as he tried to wake him. Draco’s stomach churned as Harry fought off some unknown attacker, the fear and hysteria visible on his face even as he slept. He shuddered as he imagined what could possibly be going through Harry’s mind, making him try even harder to wake the boy up. His screams grew louder, and his hands went up to his head, pulling on his hair in a panic.

“Harry! No! Wake up!”

Draco didn’t fail to notice his own voice was coming out rather hysterically at this point. He disappeared into the bathroom, coming back with a glass of water that he threw at Harry’s face, although it did not have the intended result.

Harry stilled, sobs wracking his body as he began to shake, still trapped in his unconscious mind. He curled into a ball, his cries saturated with pain and despair and Draco wondered which was worse, the terrified Harry or this broken Harry in front of him. He looked about the room anxiously, trying to find something to wake the other boy up with. He contemplated getting Severus, but as Harry began to thrash around again, he decided waking the boy up was far more important.

As Harry began to grow more agitated, Draco grabbed him by the shoulders, kneeling practically on top of him as he forcefully began to shake the younger boy. When that didn’t work, Draco felt close to tears himself. He was about to run out of the room to find Severus when Harry’s eyes jerked open and he bolted upright, nearly knocking the blonde boy off the bed. His eyes were unfocused, his breathing close to hyperventilation. He put a shaking hand to his chest, practically clawing at his shirt as he struggled to breathe.

“I’m going to get Severus.” Draco said quietly, knowing there was no way he’d be able to calm Harry on his own.

He was stopped, however, when Harry grabbed his hand, panting, “No.”

“I have to; I don’t know how to help you.” Draco insisted, hating that his fear was so evident in his shaky voice. “He’ll give you a potion or something.”

Harry pushed harder on his chest, still holding on to Draco. He was barely able to choke out the word ‘grounded’ before doubling over, his lips faintly blue.

“I think he would be more upset if I stayed here instead if getting him.” Draco hissed, jerking his arm from Harry’s grasp.

~~

Harry didn’t have the energy to argue with Draco as he rushed from the room, and he vaguely wondered if he was going to die from a lack of oxygen. It took him a few minutes to remember what had gotten him so upset, but it flashed though his mind quickly and he jumped to his feet, staggering to the door despite the overwhelming dizziness that threatened to incapacitate him.

He only made it as far as the hallway before he ran into an ashen Draco and (what looked to be) concerned Snape. He struggled to vocalize what he had seen, but the words, as his breath, wouldn’t come and he felt disoriented as blackness started to overpower his vision. He was only slightly aware of being carried the short distance to his bed before a potion was forced into his mouth, and before he knew what was happening, his head was being forced between his knees and someone was rubbing his back.

“Do you feel ill?”

Harry weakly shook his head, the intense nausea he had first felt upon waking had subsided into a general repulsed feeling. His chest burned as it began to receive oxygen once more and his mind felt fuzzy. After a few moment of deep breathing, it dawned on him why he was so panicked to begin with.

“Ron…Voldemort, he attacked his family, I don’t know if he was there. They were all—They’re all…” he trailed off, feeling queasy as he remembered the attack, “…they’re dead. He tortured them.”

He let his head fall again and he began to sob, the reality of the situation crashing down on his shoulders, “It was because of me, because he’s my friend.”

“Are you sure?” Severus asked, his hand still resting on Harry’s back.

Harry nodded miserably, trembling slightly as he desperately tried to control his emotions. He had never felt so helpless in his entire life. This was worse than when Sirius died, at least then there had been a battle, fighting on both sides, a chance for retaliation. This was just a malicious, unnecessary attack. They didn’t need to be targets, if only Harry had run into another family the morning of September 1st at Kings Cross, they may still be alive. Ron was his first real friend, and the Weasleys were the family he never had. And now they were gone. They were gone because he cared about them.

He was unable to stop the tears from flowing this time as his heart shattered into a million pieces.

~~

Severus didn’t know what to say. He would look back on this moment as one of the few times he had been rendered absolutely speechless by a student. His arm burned angrily as he ignored the call of the Dark Lord, and he had no doubt in his mind that Harry had just experienced a vision.

He had never felt comfortable around distraught people, children at that! His hand rested on Harry’s back, which was shaking with sobs, and he tried to think of a logical approach. First, minimize Potter’s embarrassment. Second, assess the damages. Third, do damage control.

“Draco, would you please wait for me in the den?” Severus asked quietly, his eyes drifting to the pale blonde boy, “I’m sure Harry would feel better without an audience right now.”

Draco nodded, quickly leaving the room. Severus could tell by the uneasy expression that this situation was as awkward for his godson as it was for him. Looking back to Harry, Severus frowned. Assess the damages…where should he begin?

“Do you need a headache potion?”

Harry shook his head, rocking himself back and forth, his arms wrapped tightly around his thin frame.

“I am going to floo the headmaster to verify what you saw, would you like to go with me or remain here?”

“I’m not supposed to leave my room except for meals.” Harry reminded Severus, frowning up at the professor, “Draco would be pretty upset if you bent rules for me and not for him.”

“On the contrary, Draco is downstairs as we speak and it would only be fair to bend the rules for both of you since I have for him. If you wish to stay in your room, though, that is acceptable as well.” Severus said lightly, “I just thought you may not want to be alone right now.”

Harry was silent for a few moments before he shakily stood and followed Severus to the door, an unreadable expression on his normally expressive face. Severus walked to the library, wondering what else could go wrong for this boy. As much as he didn’t want to admit that he was worried for the child, it was now undeniable. Anyone would be worried, seeing how much Harry had been through in such a short span of time. It would be enough to bring a grown man to his knees, much less a teenage boy.

“Headmaster Dumbledore, Hogwarts.”

The floo roared and Severus stuck his head through, relieved to see the headmaster sitting at his desk.

“Ah, hello Severus. How are you today? The boys?”

“I wish I could have come under better circumstances, but Harry and I need to speak with you at once.” Severus said irritably. If the boy’s vision was correct, why was the headmaster calmly sitting at his desk? And if the boy’s vision was incorrect, why would the headmaster assume everything was fine if Severus was making this call? Sometimes he didn’t understand the older man at all.

“Would you like me to come there, or would you rather come through?”

“I think it would be better if you came here.” Severus replied after stealing a glance at the pale, still Potter sitting rigidly on the sofa, staring into space.

Severus stepped back and Dumbledore walked through, the twinkle disappearing from his eyes as he spotted Harry.

“I see…Harry, you have had a vision.”

Harry’s eyes locked with the headmaster’s, but he didn’t speak. Severus sat next to Harry, his hand on the boy’s knee in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture. He was not accustomed to such behavior, and the touch felt awkward and unfamiliar, although surprisingly not unpleasant. Harry broke his gaze with the headmaster and turned to Severus, clearly surprised, and then leaned into Severus’s shoulder.

Severus stiffened slightly at first, then slowly relaxed. It wouldn’t do Harry any good make him feel uneasy by his unusual display of trust, and as strange as it was, the feeling of warmth from the boy was overwhelming. Deciding that giving Harry strength was the least he could do in this situation, he turned his own gaze on the headmaster, his eyes hard and narrow.

“What do you know of this vision?”

Dumbledore sighed, seeming much older than usual. He pressed his hands together and spoke slowly, as if carefully choosing his words, “I would assume that Harry witnessed an altercation between Tom Riddle and the Weasley family, specifically Arthur, Molly, the twins, Ronald and Ginny.”

Feeling Harry tense, Severus pressed, “And if your assumption was correct, would you have any knowledge of such an…altercation?”

The pained look of sorrow that crossed the headmaster’s face was enough confirmation for Harry, who buried his head in Severus’s shoulder as he began to sob once again.

“There will be a memorial service, Bill and Charlie are making preparations. I’m sure we can take safety precautions so Harry can attend.”

He stood and put a hand on Harry’s shoulder, a deep frown on his face, “I am sorry you had to witness that. No one should be subjected to that sort of trauma.”

Harry refused to lift his head and Dumbledore stepped back into the floo, disappearing in the green flames. As he watched the headmaster leave, Severus thought back on his three-point plan of action. Privacy, damage assessment and now damage control. This part would be most difficult, seeing as he had nowhere to begin. The only friend he had ever lost was Lily, and the circumstances had been far different, even if they did involve a lot of the same people.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Severus said quietly, “If there is anything I can do-“

“It doesn’t matter, it won’t bring them back.” Harry replied, his voice muffled by Severus’s robes.

They sat in silence for a few moments before Harry spoke again, releasing his professor and staring down at his hands, “Ron was my first friend. I met him on the platform for the train on the first day of school, they helped me cross the barrier because I didn’t know how. The summer before second year, he cared enough to rescue me from my aunt and uncle’s house in a flying car—the one we arrived at school with. He took me back to his family’s home and they welcomed me as if I were one of their own. I felt closer to them than I did to my own family.”

“Sometimes love is stronger than blood.” Severus commented, “You were very lucky to have a friend like that.”

“Look what good it did him, being my friend got him and his family killed.” Harry muttered.

Severus was at a loss, he didn’t have the slightest idea of what he was supposed to do or say. There were some hurts that were just impossible to fix, and Severus had an inkling that this would fall into that category. His heart ached for the trembling boy beside him, he had been through so much over the last few months, more than any child should have to go through in a lifetime.

“I’d understand if you wanted me to go back to the Dursley’s.” Harry whispered, “I practically killed them myself.”

Severus crossed his arms, staring intensely at Harry, who seemed many years younger as he fidgeted with his hands. He was more than a bit concerned for Harry’s emotional well-being.

 “Nonsense, Potter, you have done nothing of the sort. You are more than welcome to remain here…I’d like you to stay.”

He was unprepared for the sudden tight embrace from the black-haired child, and his stiffened a bit at first. But even he couldn’t deny that when Harry pulled away, his face pink with shame, he felt cold and wished the contact had lasted longer. The boy never ceased to amaze him.     

Harry could sense Draco staring at him as he walked into the room. He probably wanted answers, answers that Harry couldn’t give him. The idea of talking to anyone, especially Draco Malfoy, about the Weasleys made his skin crawl.   

“So…”   

Harry ignored his blonde roommate and fell onto his bed, pulling his blanket protectively around him as he tried to stop the tears that threatened to fall. He couldn’t believe he had allowed himself to break down in front of Snape and Malfoy; he would never live it down if anyone found that out.   

Harry’s chest hurt knowing he had lost yet several more people that he had loved. Questions swirled in his head; was no one safe around him? Who would be next? Hermione, the Dursleys, his roommates at Hogwarts, his professors? Seamus and his family had already lost their lives, now the Weasleys. How many people would die before Harry would be able to fulfill the prophesy? How many innocent lives would be lost because Harry had been unable to kill the snaky bastard when he was one, eleven, fourteen and fifteen…would he ever succeed? If, by chance, he did succeed and survive, would he have anyone left in his life to rejoice with? What good would it be for him to live if he had lost everything?  

“Harry?”  

If Voldemort would so easily kill a pureblood family, what’s to say he wouldn’t turn around and kill the Grangers, being muggleborn? How would he face his schoolmates in the fall knowing that they knew his friend and his family had been killed just because they cared about him? He was no stranger to his classmates fearing him, but now there was a legitimate reason to do so. Maybe he should write to Hermione and tell her they couldn’t be friends anymore, maybe he could ask Dumbledore to keep him out of the boys dormitory once the school term started, for their safety.   

“You can’t ignore me forever.”  

Harry’s shoulders shook as a sob broke through the barrier he had worked so hard to construct. He bit his lip tightly, until he could taste the familiar metallic flavor of blood, and tried to regain his composure. The last thing he needed was Draco Malfoy thinking he was weak. Draco had just abandoned Voldemort and the darkest of the dark arts, the last thing he needed to see was the ‘savior’ of the light crying like a baby.    

“Come on, Harry, I’ll go crazy if I have to sit here in silence all day.”  

Harry took a few steadying breaths before rolling over to face Draco, hoping his eyes weren’t red from crying, “What?”  

He cringed as he heard his hoarse, emotion-filled voice, he hated to come off as weak.    

“I know we aren’t friends, by any means, but I know what it feels like to lose a friend. If you want to talk about anything…”   

Harry couldn’t mistake the sincerity in Draco’s voice, but even that didn’t make him feel better, instead, he felt defensive and weak. If the years in the Dursley house had taught him anything, it taught him that he hated feeling helpless.  

“What’s to say you won’t go spread all of it around the Slytherin common room once school starts?”  

“Aside from the fact that half of Slytherin will want me dead because I turned my back on the dark side of the war? Who would I tell? Do you really think I’m that petty?”  

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Draco cut him off with a quick, “Don’t answer that.”  

Harry was silent for a moment before his curiosity got the best of him. Besides, thinking about anything other than the Weasleys was bound to make this day a bit more tolerable, “Who have you lost?”  

“Before I came here this summer…” Draco paused, frowning slightly, “I had to attend a lot of death eater meetings, it was all very disturbing. He had four recruits out of our school, students whose parents were death eaters. One of them decided he didn’t want to join, he was killed. He had been one of my roommates.”  

Harry was silent for a moment, studying the pained expression on Draco’s face with a sense of sympathy and a stab of heartache…just another classmate to add to the death total of the summer…swallowing back bile that always crept in his throat when he thought of someone dying at the hands of Voldemort and his stupid plight, he asked quietly, “Who?”  

“Theodore Nott.” Draco paused, his face ashen, “His own father killed him on Voldemort’s order….I don’t know how anyone could do that to their own son.”  

“I don’t know either.” Harry said quietly, “I’m sorry.”  

“We weren’t exactly close, but we did spend the better part of the last 5 years sharing a room and attending the same classes. He was a pretty good guy.”  

Harry felt a stab of pain at the haunted look on Draco’s face. He knew all too well what that felt like. Seamus had been that sort of friend to him, another person lost. He briefly wondered if there had ever been so many deaths in one class. He felt tears prickling again, and he threw his covers off, standing and clenching his shaking hands, “I hate him.”  

“Nott?”  

“No, Voldemort.” Harry said darkly, “I want to make him suffer before I kill him, I want him to pay for what he’s done. I hate him more than I have ever hated anyone else before.”  

It was the first time he had let himself vocalize these thoughts, and he was surprised he was letting himself open up to Malfoy. It was no secret that he and Voldemort were enemies, but he tried to keep these darker feelings locked away—he had always worried that saying he wanted to actually kill someone would make him just as bad, just as vile as Voldemort. After what he had witnessed today, though, he was not in the mood to censor himself. Besides, if anyone would understand the darker side of him, it would be Draco Malfoy. The Malfoys weren’t exactly known for being caring and compassionate.  

“If I’m there, when it comes down to the end, I’ll help you.” Draco said quietly, and without meeting the blonde boy’s gaze, Harry knew he was serious. For some reason, it was reassuring.  

“Thanks.”  

They were interrupted by a knock on the door. Without waiting for a response, Severus pushed open the door, “Lunch will be ready in ten minutes, and you may come downstairs now.”  

“I’m not hungry.” Harry replied immediately, his stomach churning at the mere thought of sitting down to eat a meal. How could he even think of eating when his whole world was being turned upside down?  

“Harry…”  

He knew Snape would be unhappy with him skipping a meal after missing the previous one. It was like the man knew how to torture him. He wouldn’t be surprised if he even tried to make small talk around the table if he was forced to attend. How could anyone act so normally when an entire family was just wiped away from existence?   

He refused to meet his professor’s eye and he wrapped his arms around himself, shivering slightly, “Please, sir.”  

“Very well, I’ll have a tray brought up to you in case you change your mind.”  

Harry didn’t fail to notice the concerned look that Snape and Draco shared before leaving the room.  

**  

“Do you think he’s going to be okay?”  

Severus looked up from his plate as his godson spoke, a frown on his face, “I’m not sure, Draco. He was very close to the Weasley family, this has been a very sharp blow to him.”  

“Do you think he is suicidal?” Draco asked quietly, staring down at his plate.   

The question took him by surprise, “Do you?”  

“I don’t know, but I know I might be thinking irrationally if one of my best friends had died.”  

Severus was silent, contemplating Draco’s words. Was Harry suicidal? The child didn’t seem like the type who would even consider taking his own life, especially knowing the destiny he had to fulfill. But, at the same time, the potions’ master didn’t know the boy very well. Why was he always put into uncomfortable situations? He had no clue how to deal with emotional trauma of this caliber, even if it had been with a student he remotely understood. And he definitely didn’t understand Gryffindors.   

“I trust you will keep an eye on him, then, and let me know if there is any evidence leading to this conclusion?”   

It was more of a command than a request, and by Draco’s nod Severus could see the boy had understood that as well.    

He thought of the boy upstairs, who was likely more in danger of starving to death than suicide, seeing how selfless he tended to be, even if that selflessness was shrouded in foolishness. He didn’t seem like the type who would leave the wizarding world in turmoil in such a cowardly fashion, knowing about the prophesy that fated his life. He needed to find a way to get Harry eating again; it wasn’t healthy for a child to miss a meal, especially a growing teenage boy who was small to begin with.  

“Do you have any books on advanced transfiguration?”   

Draco’s abrupt question interrupted Severus from his thoughts, and he nodded absentmindedly, “Sure, you may go into the library after your meal and find what you need. Is it for your homework?”  

“Yes sir.”  

Draco hurriedly finished his meal and excused himself to the library, leaving Severus alone with his thoughts. He hoped that the Gryffindor wouldn’t fall apart, at least not while they were stuck in this house for the summer. Snape wouldn’t know what to do, how to help, and as much as he disliked the boy, he didn’t want to see any harm come to him.  

A foreboding sensation of dread washed through him and he quickly finished his meal. He had to do something. He walked to the floo, calling Dumbledore’s office to request a meeting. He may not be able to take the Harry’s pain away, but he could give him a distraction from it at the very least. 

**  

Draco walked into his bedroom, a heavy transfiguration book in his hands. He dropped it onto his desk, glancing at Harry’s bed, surprised to see it empty. A half-eaten sandwich and an empty glass were sitting on the bedside table, and the bathroom door was closed.   

The blond boy walked to the closed door and knocked lightly, feeling utterly exhausted from the events of the day, even though it was still early in the afternoon. He could only hope the rest of the summer wouldn’t be so dramatic! He frowned when he didn’t get a response and he knocked harder.  

“Come on Potter, stop hogging the place!” Once again he was met with silence.   

His stomach churned with a sudden rush of adrenaline as his conversation with Severus replayed in his mind. Was Harry suicidal? Was he dead on the other side of the door? Why else would he not be answering?   

He turned and fled the room, running back downstairs in an attempt to locate his professor. Finding the dining room, library, lab and den empty, Draco sprinted back upstairs and into Severus’s room. He didn’t locate his professor, but he did come across two wands on the dresser, one of which he recognized as his own.   

He dashed back to the bathroom door, knocking one last time, “Harry? If you don’t answer me, I’m going to come in. Damn it Potter!”  

Draco was met again with the awful sound of silence. His heart pounded rapidly in his chest, and he felt blood rushing through his temples as he shakily pointed his wand at the door. Taking a deep breath, he tried to convince himself that he didn’t care what he would find on the other side of the door. He and Harry had been enemies for years; it wouldn’t make a single bit of difference if he was hurt, or even dead. He’d get the room to himself, he wouldn’t have to see or hear about Saint Potter for the remainder of his days at Hogwarts. It didn’t matter what he’d find…he was only checking because the golden boy would start stinking the place up once he started to rot.   

Yeah, that was why.   

He steadied his wand hand with his other hand, and whispered softly, “Alohamora.”  Holding his breath, Draco pushed the door open, expecting the worst. Horrible visions flashed through his mind as he waited to see the state of his rival. As he laid eyes on the dark-haired boy savior of the wizarding world, he slowly exhaled, shakily pushing his hair back and slipping his wand into his pocket.  

“Harry?”  

Draco knelt next to Harry, who was sitting on the floor, against the wall, with his knees drawn to his chest. Shaking the boy’s shoulders, Draco quietly called out to him, “Are you alright? Harry? Answer me!”  

Harry’s head lolled to the side, and Draco quickly felt his neck for a pulse. Harry’s skin was warm, which caused Draco to release the breath he didn’t even realize he had been holding, and moments later he was able to find the rhythm of Harry’s heartbeat. So he was alive, that was a relief. Draco sank to his knees, shaking Harry by the shoulders once more, his heart fluttering anxiously when he didn’t get a response.  

The Slytherin stood, wringing his hands anxiously. He didn’t know where their guardian was, he didn’t know what to do and he’d probably be expelled for using magic over the summer. Frantic tears prickled his eyes and he inhaled sharply, trying to get a grip on himself. He had to do something, anything. There was clearly a problem here. People didn’t become unresponsive for no reason…why in Merlin’s name had Severus left them alone?!  He had to know a spell, something that could be useful in times like this. After all, wasn’t that why magic was so useful and great? He took a shaky breath, then pulled his wand out of his pocket again. He had to do something, anything. Laying the thin piece of wood on the counter, he moved Harry into a laying position, then stood over him and pointed his wand at the unconscious boy.  

How he had wished to be in this situation for years. Ironically, the first chance he had to curse Potter into oblivion, he was concerned about rescuing him. No one would never believe it. He could scarcely believe it.   

After levitating the boy to his bed, Draco cast a monitoring charm on the room and stepped out into the hall once more. He had to find Severus, he had to be around somewhere. He felt lightheaded as his anxiety level grew. Severus wouldn’t have left knowing how upset Harry was…even if the professor and Harry didn’t get along, he wouldn’t leave them alone when Harry was going through so much. Would he?  

“I think at this point it is absolutely necessary.”  

Draco paused, hearing his godfather’s voice. It was muffled, meaning he was likely enclosed in a room nearby. He carefully listened as he walked down the hall, wondering where the voice could be coming from. After all, he had searched all of the rooms earlier and found nothing.   

“But he’s only fifteen years old-“  

Hearing the headmaster’s voice, Draco came to a standstill. To be able to hear his quiet tones, they had to be close.  

“He is a fifteen year old with the responsibility of an adult hanging over his head.”  

Draco found the source of the conversation, a panel concealed by a tapestry on the wall. He continued to listen as he tried to figure out how to open the doorway.  

“What about young Mr. Malfoy? Don’t you think he will be upset if Harry is being allowed to use magic and he is not? Do you think Harry is interested, even if he is ready?” Dumbledore questioned.   

“Potter has been doing countless hours of research since he came to stay with me, I’m quite certain he is capable and willing to learn. If necessary, I can provide Mr. Malfoy with extra lessons as well.”  

“Are you certain-?”  

“I’m certain that if we leave Harry to his own defenses, he will fall further into depression and may act out irrationally as we have seen him do in the past. This way, he can feel like he is making a difference and preparing for the inevitable fight with the Dark Lord. It will keep him focused on something other than his grief and it will increase his knowledge and abilities. This puts us in a win-win situation.”  

There was a moment of silence before Severus’s voice continued, “Draco, you may enter.”  

”I can’t!”   

The door suddenly opened and Draco rushed in, looking anxiously between his godfather and headmaster, he cleared his throat, “There’s something wrong with Potter.”  

“What is it, Draco?” Severus asked, concern clear in his voice, “Why didn’t you inform me immediately?”  

“I-I went back to our room earlier and he wasn’t there, the bathroom door was locked. I knocked several times and he didn’t answer, and I came down here to find you, but I couldn’t, so I took my wand from your room and magically opened the door. He was unconscious, so I levitated him to his bed.”  

“And he didn’t wake?”  

“No sir, he’s breathing and he looks okay, but he wouldn’t wake up.” Draco replied nervously, “I didn’t know you were in here until I heard you and the headmaster speaking. Really, sir, I would have gotten you immediately had I known-“  

“It is quite alright, Draco, calm yourself. I should have told you where I would be, you are not in trouble. Why don’t you have some tea while I check on Harry.”  

“I shall come with you.”  

Draco watched as the two older men left the room, then he sank onto the sofa, biting his lip. He wasn’t used to this whirlwind of emotions and he was not enjoying it in the least. He leaned his throbbing head onto the back of the couch, exhaling loudly. He wasn’t sure how Gryffindors put up with all of these conflicting, raging emotions, it was so much easier to just be cold all of the time.  

**  

Harry’s head felt fuzzy and his body ached as he slowly began to wake up. Before he could even force his eyes open, the memories of the attack on the Weasleys came back to him and he inhaled sharply, turning onto his side, covering his face with his hands. He would love nothing more than to wake up and find out the last 24 hours had been a dream.   

The last thing he remembered was nibbling at his lunch, and then feeling sick. He had gone into the bathroom to splash some water on his face and…oh no.   

He was vaguely aware of the voices of Snape and Dumbledore speaking to him, and he tugged on his shirt sleeves, moaning as he tried to focus on them through his pounding headache.   

“Harry, my boy, can you hear me?”  

“P’ssor Dum’dore?” Harry moaned weakly, rolling onto his back and blinking his eyes open, only to quickly shut them as he was assaulted by sunlight.  

“Does something hurt? Do you know what happened?”  

“My head.” Harry managed to vocalize, bringing an arm to cover his forehead and eyes. He wasn’t about to tell them about exactly what had happened earlier, and he wasn’t going to leave himself in the situation to be found out. He wouldn’t be able to handle the disappointment from the headmaster and the sneers from his potions professor. He heard Snape say something about potions and then footsteps walking away from his bed, and he lowered his hand, tugging his sleeves over his hands once more, “W-What are you doing here?”   

“I was just discussing some things with your professor, my boy. Are you ill? Have you had another vision?”  

Harry began to shake his head, only to feel his stomach roll at the slight motion. Bracing himself, he whispered, “Just tired, haven’t been sleeping much.”  

At least it wasn’t fully a lie. He really hadn’t been sleeping much and he was very tired. Of course, that wasn’t the reason he passed out in the bathroom. He tugged at his sleeves once more, hoping that his scars would be covered and unnoticed. The last thing he wanted was someone to know what he had been doing, he didn’t need any more attention than he already received.   

“Or eating, from what I’ve heard.”  

“Haven’t been hungry.”  

“Torturing yourself won’t bring them back, Harry.”  

Tears stung Harry’s eyes as he tried to block out the older man’s words. He didn’t deserve this sort of sympathy or attention, he was practically the reason people were being killed. He was the reason the Order had lost Molly and Arthur Weasley, Sirius. He was no better than Voldemort himself.   

Footsteps came closer to the bed once more and his nose was assaulted with the scents of various potions. Before he could link the scent to his professor, he was being forced into a sitting position, dry heaving as the movement caused a severe case of dizziness and nausea. Seconds later, as he tried to regain his bearings, several vile potions were being forced into his mouth. He moaned and struggled to break free of the tight grasp, and after a few moments he was rewarded by getting to lay his heavy head down on his soft pillow once more.   

The voices in the room seemed a lot farther away as he began to drift off to sleep and he found himself only mildly irritated that he was unable to hear the entire conversation taking place around him.   

Complete diagnostic scan…malnutrition…migraine….fatigue….rest…..  

Voices swirled around him, unrecognizable, and he felt himself drifting away. As he succumbed to darkness once more, he was amazed at how warm and comforting it felt to be cared for.

The first thing Harry noticed when he opened his eyes was that he was incredibly comfortable and felt rested for the first time in ages. He felt warm and peaceful and for a few short moments he felt like everything was perfect. It didn’t take long, though, before the reality of the last few days hit him with a vengeance and he wanted nothing more than to bury his head under the covers for the next year or so.

The smell of breakfast assaulted his senses and his stomach churned as he realized he’d have to face Snape sooner or later. His clothes had been changed into pajamas, which meant that his professor had seen his scars and he’d probably be interrogated over the meal. The last thing he felt like doing was having a psychobabble session with the one of the people in the world who hated him most.  

Rolling onto his side, Harry marveled in the fact that his head was pain-free for the first time in weeks. Physically, he felt great. Judging by the sunlight and lingering smell of food, it was likely morning, which meant that he had slept uninterrupted in excess of twelve, possibly eighteen, hours, a feat that could only be accomplished with a heavy dose of dreamless sleep. He couldn’t deny that it had done his body, not to mention his mind, a lot of good.  

The Gryffindor had been at his breaking point the previous day and he hoped that the worst was behind him now. The longer he remained awake, though, the more intense the suffocating pressure of loss tightened in his chest. He knew it was stupid to expect to feel any better right now, the pain was still too fresh to even begin to diminish, and for what felt like the millionth time that week, he wished he could turn off his emotions.

Harry was brought from his thoughts by someone clearing their throat behind him. With a groan, he rolled over silently, glad someone had interrupted him before the tears had found a way to make their escape. The last thing he needed was to start crying again. Harry met Draco’s gaze, noticing immediately that the blonde looked nervous and uneasy. He was immediately alert and he shot up in bed, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing…nothing’s wrong. Are you alright?”

Harry could tell Draco was struggling to keep his voice steady, and the Gryffindor resisted the urge to tell the Slytherin that he was doing a lousy job of keeping his air of superiority up. Harry didn’t really feel like fighting, though, so instead just shrugged, “I’m okay.”

 “ Severus came up a few minutes ago, breakfast will be ready shortly.” Draco said quietly, “Are you coming down?”

Harry nodded, his stomach growling despite the general queasiness that always seemed to be present lately. He fell back against his pillows again, savoring the last few moments of warmth and security that his oversized duvet provided before giving in to Draco’s expectant glare and reluctantly leaving his bed. Grabbing the first set of clothing he could find, he disappeared into the bathroom, yawning despite being quite well-rested.

Harry was shocked when he looked into the mirror. He didn’t know what he expected, really, his appearance hadn’t been a pressing issue over the summer, but he didn’t expect to see someone nearly unrecognizable staring back at him. His skin was pale, undoubtedly from spending the days indoors, and there were dark circles beneath his eyes. His hair was quite possibly the only recognizable feature besides his famous scar, and even it was more unruly than usual. Harry rubbed his eyes before turning the water on and decided to forgo the much needed hot shower in favor of quickly splashing some water on his face. He was grounded, after all, and would have plenty of time to take a long, leisurely shower later.

The raven-haired boy unbuttoned his pajama top and threw it on the floor before pulling a t-shirt over his head. With a groan, he realized that he should have also grabbed one of his jumpers to hide the scarring on his arms. He’d have to figure something out before facing Draco and Snape, Harry couldn’t very well walk around with angry red marks on his skin.

Harry realized, however, that a jumper would be of little significance. Somehow, the marks on his arms were gone. He ran his fingers through his hair, panicking slightly. The only way they could have disappeared was if someone had healed them. Someone like Snape or Dumbledore. They knew. What was he going to do? He couldn’t very well stay locked in the bathroom all day, he’d have to face them eventually. Harry needed an explanation, a way to make this seem like an accident or inconsequential, a way to deflect the situation. And if Snape knew, then he probably told Draco, and that’s why he seemed so nervous. What if he told everyone once they got back to school? The last thing he wanted was everyone thinking he was weak and unbalanced.

His inner rambling was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Just a minute.” Harry gasped, trying to quench the panic rising in his chest. He needed to decide what to do and he was running out of time. He suddenly felt lightheaded and hot and let himself slowly sink to the floor, resting his head against the cool door. He couldn’t face them, not now, not if they knew.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” Harry replied, trying to keep the shakiness of his voice at a minimum. He had no doubt in his mind that if he expressed any hint of a problem in front of Draco, the blonde would find Severus and limit his time to think of an excuse for the cuts on his arms.

Harry didn’t have an excuse, though, just a reason. A reason that would definitely not go over well with his professor or the headmaster. He didn’t expect them to understand, anyone to understand. He barely understood why it made him feel better, alive, calm. He assumed it was because the physical pain was easier to handle than the emotional pain, the Gryffindor was used to physical pain after all of his escapades, not to mention the manual labor his aunt and uncle forced on him. Physical pain could be ignored, patched and forgotten. Physical pain didn’t haunt your dreams and linger in the shadows of your mind. Physical pain didn’t make you want to die, it didn’t make you feel like you were insane. Sure, there were a few painful curses that made you feel like you were seconds from losing your mind, but once the curse ended, the pain receded. He desperately wished for an off switch for his feeling.

“Harry, are you coming?”

“Yeah.” Harry called back, taking a deep breath. Time to face the music. He moved to grab his pajamas off the floor, stopping once he saw a jagged edge of glass obscured by the edge of the cabinet below the sink. The distraught teen picked it up, goosebumps covering his arms as he stared down at the small object that had given him his release the previous day. He was filled with anticipation as he turned the shard over in his hands, pricking his thumb slightly with the tip.

It wasn’t the idea instrument for self-inflicted damage, but it had an important origin. The shard of glass belonged to a shattered mirror which was situated on the bottom of his trunk. It had been a gift from Sirius. A gift that could have saved Sirius’s life the night of the Ministry of Magic fiasco. A reminder that he acted without thinking and got the people he loved killed…as if a reminder was really necessary.

Harry had to find a way to keep it safe, hidden, so he could come back to it later, should the need arise. It had to be somewhere Draco wouldn’t look, somewhere Snape wouldn’t see it. Harry couldn’t put it in his trunk, if Snape knew he was cutting himself, his possessions would likely be searched. He couldn’t leave it in the bathroom or else Draco would find it. Biting his lip, the boy knew it was time to face the music, he could practically hear his roommate scowling on the other side of the door. There would be time later to find the perfect hiding spot, until then his pocket would keep it safe.

Harry opened the door, coming face to face with his longtime rival who wore the same arrogant, irate expression that he often donned at school. The expression alone caused Harry’s temper to flare slightly, and he had to remind himself that he and Draco had a truce this summer and there was no need to react defensively. Besides, he simply wasn’t in the mood to fight today.

“Primping like a girl, Potter?” The Slytherin glanced at Harry’s hair and sneered, “I guess not, you didn’t even bother to brush your hair.”

“It’ll look the same anyway.” Harry muttered, throwing his pajamas onto his bed, “You could have gone down without me.”

“Tired of my company already?”

“Are you surprised? All you have done is nag me since I’ve gotten up.”

Draco smirked before opening their bedroom door, “Remind me not to exchange pleasantries with you anymore, since you construe them as bothersome.”

“Pleasantries, is that what you call it?” Harry replied, flashing the blonde a weak smile. It was odd, joking around with Draco Malfoy, but it was a very nice distraction from the shard in his pocket, which seemed to beckon him from between the soft fabric, “I’ve never known you to be pleasant.”

“And I’ve never known you to be intelligent, yet I continue to converse with you.”

“Wouldn’t that make you less intelligent than you think I am?” Harry replied with a smirk that he hoped matched Draco’s.

“Touché.”

Harry was wearing a genuine smile as he walked into the dining room, but it quickly faded as he spotted his professor, already seated with a stern expression on his face.

“Look who decided to join us today.” Severus said in a cool tone, not nearly as snide as he had been in the past but clearly displeased with something.

Harry looked down with a frown, knowing the jab was deserved but finding himself irritated by it regardless. He had long ago lost count of how many meals he had skipped altogether since arriving at Snape’s home, much less the number he had picked at and pushed around on his plate in an attempt to pretend he was eating. Harry had a feeling, though, that his lack of appetite was the tip of the iceberg on the list of information Snape could torment him with.

The Gryffindor sat down, trying to summon up some sort of bravery, and folded his hands in his lap. He was just waiting for the questions and accusations, to hear how stupid he was for being so self-destructive or perhaps some taunting at the expense of his self-esteem. After all, isn’t exchanging heated words what he and Snape did best?

Deciding that quiet obedience may save him from the receiving end of his professor’s sharp tongue, he took a piece of toast and placed it on his plate, careful not to make eye contact with both of his Syltherin companions.

~~

Severus took a sip of coffee, studying Harry carefully. As someone who dealt with children on a daily basis, it was obvious the boy was nervous, although he couldn’t figure out why. The professor was just relieved to see the child show his face at the table. He would never admit it to anyone, especially Potter, but he had been quite worried about the boy the previous day. Although a diagnostic scan had only showed a migraine headache and a lack of proper rest and nourishment, he had a nagging suspicion that something else was wrong. Perhaps it was just the depression the boy was clearly dealing with, or his weakened state from the visions he had experienced, but there was definitely something off.

“Would you like jam for your toast?” Severus asked as Harry absentmindedly nibbled a slice of toast, “Butter?”

“No thank you.” Harry murmured, staring down at the table.

Yes, something was definitely wrong. The Harry he knew never acted so compliant. Even when the child was mourning Sirius’s loss at the start of the summer and rarely spoke at all, he still gave away his emotions through his facial expressions, the words he did say. The Harry sitting across from him was stony and silent, carefully guarded and clearly unwilling to show anything that was going through his mind.

“How are you feeling this morning? Is your headache gone?” Severus asked, watching Harry jab his fork at the eggs in front of him, not really eating. Maybe the boy was still feeling under the weather; maybe another day in bed would do him some good. The headache potion should have cleared up the migraine, but he himself had been known to have a stubborn headache every now and then that needed more specialized potions. If the boy were still in pain, it would explain not only his meager appetite but his quietness as well.

Harry shrugged, putting his half eaten slice of bread down, “It’s gone.”

“I was thinking that maybe the two of you would enjoy some time outside today.” Severus said cooly, trying a different tactic. Maybe some fresh air would cheer the sullen boy’s spirits, if nothing else it would give him another opportunity to observe Harry’s mental state without being too obvious.

Harry shrugged once more, glancing quickly at Draco before murmuring, “I have a lot of homework to do.”

“I thought you had completed your assignments?” Severus asked, recalling their previous conversation about schoolwork, “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to fly?”

Harry shook his head, refusing to meet the gaze of both Draco and Severus as he continued to push his food around, “Draco can go ahead, I want to do some revision on my essays.”

“I’m not going if you aren’t.” Draco huffed, slamming his glass down rather forcefully on the table. He definitely looked upset at the prospect of losing the little outdoor time that Severus was allowing them during their time on restriction, “It’s a nice day outside, though.”

Harry frowned before pushing his plate away, “You should go, then. I’m going back to my room.”

Before Severus could interrupt, Harry had all but dashed from the room, his footsteps echoing up the staircase. With the more worrisome of the boys gone, Severus turned to Draco, “Did Harry sleep well?”

“Yes, and he seemed in a decent enough mood until we got down here. He stalled a bit while getting ready, but we were having a friendly conversation on the way downstairs. I don’t know what his problem is.” Draco replied, briefly meeting his godfather’s gaze before turning his attention back to his plate.

Severus was quiet for a moment, trying to recall if anything had ever happened in the dining room that would make Harry uncomfortable. He couldn’t think of anything along those lines, so clearly Harry’s discomfort stemmed from being in Severus’s presence. That, too, made little sense, seeing as how they had been living together for weeks. He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache beginning. The child was difficult to decipher on a normal day, now he was nearly impossible.

“I am finished with the Transfiguration book you loaned me; I put it away in the library.”

Draco’s voice startled Severus, who had been absorbed in his thought and had momentarily forgotten about his younger companion. Looking up, he offered Draco a slight smile, “Did it help with your assignment?”

Draco nodded, “Yes, sir. It was very enlightening. If you have time later, do you think I could assist with some potions? I don’t want my brewing skills to become rusty.”

“Of course, I would rather enjoy your company.” Severus smiled, “How are you adjusting to being here?”

“Well there has yet to be a dull moment with the Gryffindor in the house,” Draco snorted, “You know how they are.”

“Do I ever.”

Draco hesitated for a moment, seeming quite unsure of himself, “You offered to let us go outside.”

“I am not senile, I am capable to remembering conversations in recent past.”

Draco rolled his eyes, “Stop trying to intimidate me, it won’t work. If I can convince Harry to accept your offer, is it still on the table?”

Severus nodded slightly and Draco quickly stood, “May I be excused?”

“You are nothing if not ambitious.” Severus chided, “Yes, you may.”

Draco paused in the doorway, glancing back at Severus with a smug smirk, “You do realize you’ll have to try harder to pretend to hate him once school starts again.”

Draco disappeared up the stairs, leaving Severus to ponder his statement. Yes, yes he would need to brush up on those skills once the holidays were over, only now it would be much more difficult since he was starting to like the brat.

~~

Harry sat on the edge of the porcelain tub, the shard of glass directly above his pale arm. He wasn’t sure why Snape hadn’t mentioned the cutting at all, but the anticipation of a bad confrontation was driving him mad. His head was starting to ache again and the nagging pain in the pit of his stomach had returned when the Gryffindor started thinking over the morning’s events. Snape had been civil, Draco had been friendly in his own Slytherin way and leaving Harry feeling confused and overwhelmed.

Harry wanted to talk to someone about what was going on, someone who would commiserate with him over his rotten luck to be stuck with Malfoy and Snape, even if the summer had been bearable so far. He wanted someone who would come up with some random, ordinary subject to distract Harry from all of the grief he was feeling. He wanted someone to say something to cheer him up. He wanted Ron. He wanted a warm hug from Mrs. Weasley. He wanted to see beautiful Ginny with her hair pulled back and a serene smile on her face. He even wanted to be involved in a prank of George and Fred. Unfortunately, that would never happen again.

Tears stung his eyes and the teen fought to hold them back, gripping his own personal weapon tightly in his hand. He didn’t deserve to cry, they died because of him, because of who he was. He didn’t have the right to grieve, to lament. Guilt washed over him in waves and he slowly brought the glass to his skin, butterflies in his stomach. His skin turned an angry shade of red and blood reached the surface of his arm, although it did not run. Harry stared at the crimson liquid, his mind fuzzy as his unshed tears evaporated.

This pain was easy to deal with. This pain didn’t consume his body, mind and soul. It stung a bit at first, then quickly faded. Why couldn’t all of life’s problems be this simple? Why couldn’t he reach into his brain and quickly slash the part that controlled his emotions and be done with it?

He pressed slightly harder with the second cut, watching a single drop of blood splatter onto the floor in amazement. Blood. It was one of the vital substances that made a person live. It was fascinating, the way it traveled through your entire body, from organ to organ, pumping in rhythm with your heart. How easy it was shed, how easy life could be shed. Life…his life, Ron’s life, Sirius’s life, Cedric’s life, Seamus’s life, his parents’ life. Gone in a flash. Forever.

He always wound up alone. Sure, right now his two housemates were being civil, but in a few weeks they’d be back at Hogwarts and he didn’t really envision himself hanging out with Snape and Malfoy in the dungeons. He couldn’t picture himself in Gryffindor tower either, two empty beds in his dormitory. He surely couldn’t imagine being back on Privet Drive. Did he belong anywhere?

No. Of course he didn’t. He was responsible for so many lost lives, he didn’t deserve to be anywhere with other people, people who could be hurt because of him and the sick vendetta of Voldemort.

His hand felt unnaturally warm, and looking down Harry realized he had cut deeper than intended. He held up his hand, feeling detached and numb as he watched several more drops splatter onto the pristine floor. He’d have to clean that up later. Harry was vaguely aware of the pain in his arm, and it confused him. It had never hurt before.

A knock on the door brought him back to his senses and he quickly called out that he would be right out before looking down at the damage that had been done. Feeling dizzy and sick as he stared down at his bloody hand, his heart began to race as he realized there was no way to hide this. What was he going to do? How could he explain away marks that weren’t there just twenty minutes earlier?

The raven-hair boy stood, taking a step towards the sink to get a flannel to try and clean the mess he had made. He felt lightheaded as soon as he tried to move and he fought back an intense wave of nausea. Harry took a few deep breaths, trying to postpone the inevitable. He hadn’t been able to eat a meal without getting sick since the end of last term, and didn’t expect that to change now. First, though, he needed to hide any evidence of what was taking place in their bathroom.

He only made it a few more steps before his body sent him to the toilet, losing the little he had managed to eat for breakfast.  Panting heavily, his eyes squeezed tightly shut as he tried to gain control over his body. This was not the time to be weak, not with his roommate on the other side of the door, undoubtedly poised to tell their professor everything that was going on.

Unfortunately, Harry was unable to overcome his sickness and he continued to dry heave, even after hearing Draco’s muttered ‘Alohamora’. The Gryffindor was embarrassed, ashamed that he was being caught like this, sick and injured, by his long-time rival. He was surprised when Draco placed the flannel from the sink against the back of his neck after dousing it with cold water.

“Are you going to be okay?” Draco asked quietly, “Do you need me to get you anything?”

Harry shook his head miserably, wishing the floor would open him up and swallow him whole. Draco couldn’t see the cuts, the blood. He couldn’t know what Harry was doing behind closed doors. Panic rose in his chest and he found it hard to breathe as he stared down at the floor.

In retrospect, it was probably best not to look at the object he wished to hide. It only took several brief glances at the blood drops before Draco followed his example, his eyes growing wide as he saw the crimson stain on the floor.

“Oh Harry.”

The words stung worse than Harry would have ever thought possible. He felt ashamed, guilty, defensive and slightly angry at Draco’s soft voice. No, damn it, Draco wasn’t supposed to care. He frowned, his eyes briefly meeting the blonde’s concerned silver orbs.

“I need to get Severus.” Draco said softly, grabbing Harry’s hand, “Sev can heal this.”

They both looked back down at Harry’s arm, and Draco quickly dropped Harry’s hand, his brow creasing in confusion. Where had just seconds earlier stood several angry cuts now held flawless skin.

“How did you do that?” Draco asked suspiciously, “Wandlessly, no less?”

“I..I didn’t do anything.”

Harry stared at his arm, his eyes wide and his breathing shallow. He had no idea how his arm had been healed and cleaned, it was as if the marks hadn’t existed at all. His stomach churned once more and he forced himself to breathe deeply, still staring at his pale arm.

“There were cuts, and blood, and…” Draco’s voice trailed off as he looked down at the floor, which was also clean, “How did you do that?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry replied with a surge of confidence. If there was no evidence, there was a chance Draco wouldn’t say anything to Snape. If he had healed himself, then there was a chance he had healed himself the previous night. That would explain why Severus didn’t mention anything at breakfast. It was all starting to make sense! “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Draco roughly grabbed Harry’s arm again, pulling his wand out of his pocket with his free hand and pointing it at the skin, “Finite Incantatem!

Harry held his breath, looking away as Draco waited for his spell to affect Harry’s once-injured arm.

~~

“Finite Incantatem!” Draco declared, holding on to Harry’s wrist tightly. The Slytherin knew what he had seen, there was no denying it. So how did the raven-haired boy do it? Draco wasn’t aware of any person in their year who could perform wandless silent spells, much less something to the effect of a concealment or healing charm.

Draco was stunned as Harry’s arm remained unblemished and he glared at the raven-haired boy, “What did you do? How?”

“I didn’t do anything.” Harry insisted, although he was looking just as stunned as Draco felt. Letting Harry’s hand fall, the blonde looked down at the clean floors in confusion. Even if Harry had managed to cast a healing incantation, there’s no way he could have performed a simultaneous cleaning charm as well.

Draco crossed his arms, “I don’t know how you did it, but I know what I saw.”

“What did you see?”

Draco glared at his roommate as he crossed his arms, “You know what I saw. Your arms were cut, bleeding. You did it on purpose, you were trying to off yourself.”

“I was not.” Harry snapped, “That’s ridiculous. If I wanted to off myself, I would find a better way than to cut my wrists with a piece of broken mirror.”

Harry stalked out of the bathroom, flopping down on his bed with a scowl, his back towards Draco’s side of the room.

Harry’s words echoed through Draco’s ears and he found himself frowning even deeper than before as he followed Harry into the room, stopping mid-stride, “I didn’t say anything about a broken mirror, Harry.”

Chapter Six:

“I didn’t say anything about a broken mirror, Harry…” Draco took a few tentative steps towards his roommate, “What’s really going on?”

Harry swallowed deeply, glancing at the blonde with uncertainty, “Sure you did. I mean, where else would I hear something about like that if you didn’t mention it with this crazy theory of yours?”

Draco’s gaze narrowed and Harry was forced to look away. This wasn’t how it was supposed to work, Draco wasn’t supposed to care about what was going on. The stupid Slytherin was ruining everything! Sighing, Harry clenched his hands into tight fists. He didn’t want anyone to know what he was doing, it was an embarrassing sign of weakness, one he definitely didn’t want his rival knowing about. Furthermore, Draco would probably tell Snape, then he’d be the laughingstock of the entire school.

“I know what I saw.”

“You saw nothing.” Harry spat out bitterly, “Leave me alone.”

“The last thing you need is to be left alone.”

Harry was on his feet in an instant, his clenched hands by his side as he stepped directly in front of Draco, “You don’t know what I need. Who do you think you are? Some sort of shrink-“

“What?”

Harry rolled his eyes, his hands relaxing slightly for a moment before he tensed up again, “A mental healer. You don’t know anything about me, so just take your opinions and shove them up your-“

“I know enough about you to know that you’re the supposed savior of the wizarding world! How do you expect to beat the Dark Lord if you can’t even face your problems? If you can’t even admit you have a problem?”

“I don’t have a problem!” Harry yelled, his right arm twitching slightly as he used most of his self-restraint to stop himself from punching Draco in the face, “You’re the one with the problem. You’re always obsessing over me and watching my every move. If anyone here has a problem, it’s you.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Draco snorted, grabbing Harry’s wrist, “I don’t know what sort of healing spell you used, but you and I both know what I saw and what you were doing. How can you not think that’s a problem?”

Jerking his arm out of Draco’s grasp, Harry hissed, “Because it’s not a problem. You’re the only one who thinks it is.”

“Right, so if I tell Severus what you’re doing, he’ll think it’s completely normal?” Draco sneered, “We need to talk about this.”

“We?” Harry shouted, pushing Draco as his anger started to bubble again, “What do you mean ‘we’? You have nothing to do with this, nothing to do with me! We aren’t friends, you’re just the guy I’m stuck with until school starts again! Leave me alone!”

Harry took a step towards the door, but was stopped as Draco grabbed his arm tightly, “Look, I know we’re not friends. We’re barely more than enemies, okay? I know that, you know that. But we both also know that you can’t exactly lean on your friends for support right now.”

Draco dropped Harry’s arm, running a hand through his hair in an unusual act of nervousness, “I don’t know what it feels like to lose your best friend. I can’t even imagine it. But you can’t off yourself over it, you’re too important.”

Harry snorted in response. He had never been one to feel self-important and he was starting to feel very uneasy with the attention Draco was giving him. It was a lot easier when they clearly hated each other. This new relationship was confusing, to say the least. They weren’t enemies anymore, and at times they were almost friendly. He unclenched his hands, feeling drained by the confrontation even though it was relatively short, as far as confrontations between the two of them usually lasted. He settled for crossing his arms over his chest, biting his lip before answering, “I’m not going to kill myself, I’m not that stupid. I know what my purpose is, I’m not going to end my life before ending that bastard’s.”

“Your purpose?! Geez, Harry, do you hear yourself?! Yeah, you’re supposed to kill the Dark Lord, we all know that…but that’s not all you are. You are so screwed up, do you even realize that?”

Harry’s eyes narrowed and he felt himself start to tense up again. Who was the blonde fooling? Sooner or later he’d come face to face with Voldemort and when they crossed paths again he’d likely no longer be ‘the boy who lived’. The only reason Snape took him in was so that he wouldn’t completely lose his mind before the final battle, just in case Harry somehow managed to pull the proverbial rabbit out of his hat.

The look of mixed exasperation and concern that Draco was giving him made him feel nervous and on-edge. Harry felt like a specimen under a microscope, like every word and action was being analyzed. Knowing the Slytherin, he probably was. His arms itched and he wished he was alone in the bathroom once more. At least when he was there, he was safe. There were no expectations, nothing to remind him over what he had lost, what he had to do. He could forget the deaths, the pain and just let go of the pretenses he had been living under all summer.

Both boys fell silent as the door opened and Severus walked in, holding Harry’s wand in his hand, “The headmaster wants to see us at Hogwarts. Draco, I assume you still have your wand? Harry, here is yours, just in case we run into any unexpected problems…” He looked between the two boys, a frown crossing his pale features, “Did I interrupt something?”

“No!” Harry practically shouted, snatching his wand and taking a step towards the door, “We don’t want to keep the headmaster waiting.”

Without another glance to his roommate or professor, Harry stalked downstairs, his breathing shallow as he tried to think of an excuse for the blood and cuts Draco had seen. There was no doubt in his mind that Snape would find out now that Draco knew. The young Slytherin was never one to keep information, particularly hurtful information, to himself. The headache that he had been suffering with all summer was back in full force as he flopped down onto the sofa, waiting for his two housemates to join him. At least there would be little chance for a confrontation in Dumbledore’s office, and hopefully by the time they returned Draco would have forgotten what he had seen.

~*~

Severus Snape was nothing if not observant. It was a means of survival as a spy, and even though he was no longer in that position he was finding it a hard habit to break. Therefore, when he walked into the boys’ bedroom he was immediately aware of the thick tension in the room. If the Headmaster hadn’t seemed so urgent when he requested their presence, Severus would have taken more time to get to the bottom of the situation.

He resisted a sigh of disappointment as Harry pushed past him and disappeared downstairs. The boys had been getting along quite well, better than he had ever dreamed of, but now they had clearly had a setback in their quasi-friendship. Severus knew it was to be expected, but he still found it quite disappointing.

“Maybe a change of scenery would do us all some good.” Severus mentioned casually as he and Draco descended the staircase, “I’m sure you’re ready to see something besides the four walls of your bedroom.”

“Anything that isn’t decorated in Gryffindor colors will do.” Draco replied dryly, shooting an annoyed glare at Harry as they entered the room, “I’ve had about as much Gryffindor as I can handle.”

Severus glanced in Harry’s direction, not surprised to see the dark-haired boy rubbing his temples wearily. He briefly considered offering the child a potion, but as the floo roared to life once more he decided it would be best not to keep the headmaster waiting; it seemed the old man was in an impatient mood today. If his recent rendezvous with the headmaster were any indication of how this meeting would proceed, they would be back soon and he could medicate the boy then.

“Why does he need to see all of us, anyway? I have absolutely nothing to say to Dumbledore.”

“How about thanking him for keeping your ungrateful arse from being marked or thrown into Azkaban?” Harry seethed from the couch, shooting an annoyed glare at the Slytherin, “Professor Dumbledore and Snape should have just left you to the vultures.”

Draco opened his mouth to retaliate, but Severus quickly interfered in a weak attempt to end an escalating argument, “None of that, boys, we must be on our way. Draco, you will go first, then Harry. I’ll go last.”

With a glare in Harry’s direction, Draco marched to the fireplace and grabbed a handful of powder before stepping into the fireplace and scowling, “Headmaster’s Office, Hogwarts.”

After seeing Harry through, Severus stepped through the floo himself and immediately he could sense danger. Glancing towards his two charges, he could tell they felt a change as well. Trying to convey to them to shut up and follow his lead, which was quite difficult when you had to rely solely upon looks, Severus placed his arms at his sides, one hand firmly gripping his wand in a guarded stance.

“Headmaster, you wished to see us?” Severus asked carefully, studying his boss and mentor’s movements and expressions in a quick attempt to gauge the situation.

Dumbledore gestured to the chairs in front of his desk, “Please, sit.”

Once they had all taken a seat, Dumbledore turned his eyes on the two schoolboys, “Harry, Draco, how are you enjoying your summer so far?”

“Fine sir.” Both boys replied in unison before looking at each other with a scowl.

The Headmaster turned his attention to the professor, his eyes narrowing slightly, which didn’t go unnoticed by the astute spy. Severus cleared his throat, his hand still firmly clasped around the base of his wand, “May I ask what this is about?”

Dumbledore was silent for a moment, which perturbed Severus slightly. The headmaster was rarely at a loss for words. In addition to his blank expression and less than chatty banter, the potions professor was disturbed by the fact that he and the boys had been summoned to the castle. While Hogwarts was, for the most part, safe, it had been made clear from the end of term that his own home was safer and Harry should never step foot from the grounds. He had grown accustomed to seeing the older wizard several times per week, but always at his home.

“There haven’t been any more deaths, have there Professor?” Harry asked, wringing his hands together as he stared at the headmaster in concern. Severus barely was able to resist the urge to grab the boy’s hand to keep him from fidgeting. It was most distracting, and the professor was still trying to figure out what exactly was giving him such a bad feeling about this meeting.

Dumbledore slowly took a sip from the goblet on his desk before speaking softly, “No, not yet Mr. Potter. I asked you here for assistance on an assignment…an Order assignment.”

 Severus felt his heart begin to race as he quickly surveyed the office once more. This was wrong, terribly wrong. Discrepancies quickly began to fall into place. Not once had he been to Dumbledore’s office and not been offered a sweet or tea. Not once had the headmaster ever openly acknowledged involving the boy in any Order business, and certainly he wouldn’t mention any Order business in front of Draco, who’s loyalties were still shaky at best. Something wasn’t right.

His throat went dry and he looked from his leader to his charges. He wished nothing more than to be able to send telepathic messages warning them that something was amiss and that they should run at the first opportunity. Instead, he was forced to try to hint to them indirectly that they should seek protection.

“If you don’t mind, Headmaster, I would wish for Harry and Draco to retreat to my office and gather my lesson plans for the fall term. I must have left them on my desk while packing for the summer and I am quite behind in my planning.” Severus said slowly, hoping Draco would catch on to the ruse, seeing as how his godson had observed him with lesson plans the previous night.

He glared at Draco, his gaze softening slightly as the blonde boy’s face tensed, then relaxed with a slight nod. Severus then turned to Harry, who was staring at the headmaster with a puzzled and concerned look. Apparently the Gryffindor was more observant than he had been given credit for.

“We’ll find it. I believe I still have the password to your office.” Draco said quietly, standing and motioning for Harry to follow him.

The two boys hadn’t taken but three steps before Dumbledore spoke, “No, no. You need to be here for this. There will be plenty of time to gather paperwork later,” He turned to Severus, an unusually cruel smirk on his lips, “Why Severus, I am beginning to think that you would rather I didn’t speak with the boys.”

“I never said that.” Severus replied hesitantly, rising to his feet as well and taking a step towards the two children he had been entrusted with, “What is going on Albus?”

“Expelliarmus!” Came Harry’s voice from behind Severus, causing the potions master to realize he wasn’t the only one who understood the possible implications of Dumbledore’s out-of-character behavior.

Severus ducked as a shot of red light whizzed past his ear, sending the headmaster’s wand flying through the air. His own wand was out in a flash, summoning the goblet from the desk as Draco sent a ‘stupefy’ towards the old man. Polyjuice.

“Petrificus Totalus!”

Severus was quickly drawn back into the fight taking place around him, surprised that the action had yet to cease. He had seen Draco duel before, he hadn’t expected the blonde’s curse to miss. The imposter pulled up a shield just in time to deflect Harry’s curse, and Harry jumped out of the way as it was reflected back towards him.

“Frendo Corpus!” the Gryffindor shouted as soon as the pseudo-Dumbledore’s shield began to dissolve. Severus couldn’t help but be impressed, even though the curse tended to be classified as dark, seeing as how it caused the victim’s bones to break.

Of course, there was no time to even acknowledge the boy’s achievements. As the imposter fell to the floor, screaming in agony, Severus turned to the boys, “Floo back to the house and deactivate the floo connection at once. I will join you as soon as possible. Do not attempt to leave the house, do not attempt to contact anyone. Take care of each other, do you understand me?”

“Yes sir.” Draco said somberly, pulling a reluctant Harry towards the fireplace, “Be careful.”

Severus looked away from the fake Dumbledore for a split second as the boys vanished, concern weighing heavily on his chest. Unfortunately, that was enough time to be caught unaware as a curse was hurtled at him. The last thing he saw before darkness enveloped him was a jet of red light. 

“Pacing won’t make him come home any sooner.” Harry snapped as Draco made his twenty third lap across the library floor, “I’m sure he’ll pop in any minute.”

The blonde turned to his roommate, pausing mid-stride, a look of anguish on his pale face, “It’s been hours, something’s wrong.”

“You don’t know that!” Harry insisted, moving from the window seat to sit sideways in an oversized black leather chair, “Someone was definitely impersonating the headmaster, he had to tend to him first. He’s probably searching for Dumbledore now, he’ll be back shortly.”

“So naïve, Potter.” Draco spat out, resuming his steps back and forth over the emerald rug, his hands clenched tightly.

Rubbing his temples, Harry let his head fall back for a moment with a heavy sigh. He, like Draco, was worried. While he didn’t claim to know how Snape’s mind worked, he was fairly certain that the professor would have let them know something by now. Of course, it wasn’t as if their guardian could just floo through now that they had closed the connection. The older man would have to apparate in, or possibly send his patronus with a message. Could a patronus travel this far? The window had been opened in case the Slytherin would send an owl, but so far they had heard absolutely nothing.

The Gryffindor wasn’t quite sure when he had started caring about the professor’s well-being. Sure, he never liked to see anyone in harm’s way, but the potions master had never been on the list of people Harry held near and dear. At least, not until now. Something had changed this summer, and while Harry couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment he started caring about Snape, the aching in his chest proved that he did now. Maybe it was due to the time they had spent confined together, he now knew a bit more about the emotionally and socially distant professor, or perhaps it was because Snape had shown a human side while helping Harry deal with his own issues. Whatever the reason, Harry felt just about as ill with worry as Draco looked.

“I’m not naïve,” the dark-haired boy sighed, “A bit optimistic, perhaps, but not naïve. I know exactly what the death eaters and Voldemort are capable of.”

“So you think it was the death eaters then?”

Harry raised an eyebrow at the Slytherin in disbelief, “Is there any doubt? Who’s being naïve now?”

“How did they get past Dumbledore, then?” Draco asked, his pace quickening slightly, “I would think he is more powerful than any minion of the Dark Lord’s, and if it were the Dark Lord impersonating the headmaster, he would have killed you the moment you walked through the door.”

“I’d like to think that the next time I meet Voldemort, he’ll be the one dying.” Harry retorted indignantly, “And I have no idea how the death eaters got past Dumbledore, I don’t think any of them have the brains, let alone magical power, to take him down.”

Draco was silent for a moment, and when he spoke again his voice was unusually quiet, “I think Severus is a fantastic wizard…he’s smart, cunning, agile…he is an amazing spy…but if whoever did this was able to bring down Dumbledore, what sort of chances do you think Severus has? He’s probably already dead by now.”

“Don’t say that!” Harry snapped, jumping to his feet and grabbing Draco by the shoulders, shaking him slightly, “You forget that Snape is one of them, Draco, he knows how they think and he can probably anticipate what they’re going to do—isn’t that part of what makes him a good spy? He’s fine, he’ll be here in a few minutes and then you’re going to feel like an idiot for panicking when it’s only been a few hours. If something was wrong, we’d know.”

“How would we know?”

Harry’s hands trembled slightly as his roommate’s sharp voice rang in his ears, and he could practically hear the Slytherin boy mentally calling him an idiot. He couldn’t help but think that the other boy was right, how would they know? Logically, he knew that there would be no way of knowing unless they contacted someone to find out if anyone had heard anything, but who could they trust? Did anyone even know that the headmaster had been replaced by one of Voldemort’s minions?

Determined to be the calm, rational one he exhaled deeply and looked the blonde boy in the eye, “I don’t know how, but we’d know. Until we know something, though, we need to remain calm and at least try to act like everything is okay.”

Draco’s lips were pressed tightly together, a scowl on his face as he pushed past Harry, muttering something about ‘stupid Gryffindors’ before resuming his worried pacing on the other side of the room.

With one last worried glance at the Slytherin, Harry left the library and retreated to their bedroom. His headache was back in full force, and he wished he had enough potions knowledge to brew a potion to relieve some of his pain. With a groan, he reluctantly pulled out one of the books he had been studying and began to add to the notes he had already taken. Normally, the idea of working towards his goal of vengeance on his loved ones’ murderer was enough to distract him from the pain, but he couldn’t get the events from earlier out of his mind in order to concentrate.

Although he didn’t want to admit it to Draco, who was already starting to panic, he had a bad feeling about their professor and what was happening. Harry blinked back the tears that stung his eyes as he tried to focus on the pages in front of him. So many lives had been needlessly lost and the young Gryffindor couldn’t fathom the idea of losing yet another adult whom he had started to grow attached to. The book hit the wall with a thud as Harry released a bit of his pent up frustration, and tired of pretending to be strong, the boy rolled over and buried his head in his pillow and began to cry.

*~*

Severus blinked his eyes open slowly, acutely aware of the stabbing pain in his side and the throbbing in his temples. The room slowly came into focus, damp and dim, lit by only two wall sconces. Something moist trickled into his eye and he moved to wipe the offending liquid away, only to realize his wrists were bound to the cot he was laying upon.

The spy let his eyes slide closed again, eager to ease the pain radiating through his head as he replayed the events that he could remember. He had gone to see Dumbledore, a fight had broken out. He had been cursed and captured…but how? The fake Dumbledore was on the ground in agony, there was no way he could have cast any spells against a trained Death Eater/Order Member/Spy. There must have been an accomplice. An invisible accomplice? That was highly unlikely as well. Most people couldn’t hold an invisibility spell long enough to be unnoticed the entire time he was in the headmaster’s office.

Severus forced his eyes open again as the haze around his mind began to clear and more locations of pain began to infiltrate his senses. Aside from his splitting headache, which judging from the lump he could feel between his head and cot was likely caused by a concussion, and what he could assume was a bleeding cut to the forehead, he couldn’t move his right leg at all, his left was excruciatingly painful to bend or stretch. He was having trouble breathing through his nose, which he assumed was possibly broken, and he could tell that his ribs were likely bruised, if not broken, from the stabbing pain that came every time he inhaled.

Despite feeling ready to sink back into unconsciousness from pure exhaustion, he forced himself to take a few deep, albeit painful, breaths and focus on his magic. Moments later, as a thin bead of sweat began to break over his brow, he felt the restraints around his wrists snap off and he weakly pulled his arms to his chest, checking for any injuries that needed immediate attention. There had to be a way out of here, and the professor decided to put his intellectual mind to the test as he contemplated the possible means of escape.

He took several deep breaths, trying to block out the pain and anxiety of the situation, and slowly began to formulate a plan. The sound of keys jingling brought him back from his thoughts and he desperately tried to use his magic to rebind himself. He was in no position to make his move now, weakened by his injuries and his ideas only half developed. Right now it would be best to be the prisoner they expected him to be. There would be time for action later, for now he needed to focus on a plan.

~*~

Draco stared out of the window, a frown on his face. He had never felt so utterly powerless and terrified in his entire life. He was used to throwing money or his name around to make things happen the way he wanted them to, and right now all of that was completely useless. Money wouldn’t help Severus home. Fame wouldn’t give them insight to the professor’s whereabouts or condition.

The sun had gone down long ago and his anxiety increased with every passing hour. The blonde had tried to eat dinner, but had been unable to stop his shaking hands long enough to bring a spoonful of soup to his mouth. His godfather was his only means to survival, the only one he could trust in this war who would look out for him and what he needed instead of using him like a pawn in their own agendas. Severus was the only means of safety for him and Harry, if the death eaters found out where they were and were able to penetrate the wards, there was no way he and Harry could protect themselves. He knew a lot of spells, some dark, and he was positive Harry had been studying more advanced hexes this summer as well, but the two of them didn’t stand a chance against a group of trained death eaters—and he was sure it would be a group, if they were coming after Potter.

The silence was deafening.

Harry hadn’t bothered to come downstairs for dinner, not that Draco was surprised in the least, and the blonde figured his roommate was either asleep or studying. He hoped Harry was studying…when the Gryffindor slept, he had visions, which sometimes led to hysterics that the Slytherin child was both unprepared for and unwilling to handle. No, it was best that things remain calm until their guardian returned.

But calm didn’t necessarily mean quiet. What Draco needed was a distraction from waiting. He had tried to read, but couldn’t concentrate on the words in front of him. The blonde had contemplated flying, but he had determined that it would be best to be indoors in case of an attack, close to his roommate who could possibly watch his back during a duel. That left conversation, which meant he’d have to seek out the other boy’s company.

That was out of the question as well. While the two rivals were making remarkable steps towards a pleasant coexistence, they were not friends and he would not allow himself to be the one to make the first move. That would make him seem needy, and a Malfoy never showed a weakness.

He began pacing again, his mind drifting from possible distractions back to the situation at hand. Where was Severus? Was he hurt? Was he even alive? He was so absorbed in his obsessive line of thinking that he didn’t realize he was no longer alone until a hand rested on his shoulder, causing him to jump and emit a squeal that would make a Hufflepuff blush in shame.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” Harry said quietly, “It’s getting late, we should get some sleep.”

Draco shook his head adamantly, a scowl on his pale face, “I will do no such thing, I’m going to wait here until Severus returns…he could be back any moment.”

“He knows we’re waiting for him, he’ll wake us when he gets here.” Harry murmured quietly, “It will do him no good if you wear yourself down right now. We’re supposed to be watching out for each other, remember? I’m not going to let you drive yourself insane pacing back and forth in front of the window.”

Draco bristled, a deep frown on his face as he turned to face Harry. He hated being told what to do even more than he hated feeling powerless in such a grave situation. Weren’t Gryffindorks known for seeking trouble so they could save the day? For being brave to the point of being foolish? Potter should be encouraging them to go seek out Severus, to face this head on, not to go to bed like children.

The blonde’s voice was laced with venom as he spat out, “The last thing I will do is be put to bed like a baby, Severus needs us, we need to do something.”

“We’re supposed to stay here, it’s safe here.”

“Since when are you scared of a few death eaters? Since when do you let people get hurt and die just because you’re too cowardly to do something about it?”

Harry’s eyes narrowed and Draco thought for sure that would be enough to goad the younger boy into either leaving him alone or agreeing to take some sort of action. While he wanted nothing more than to go searching for his godfather, he wasn’t stupid enough to assume he could do it alone. Instead, the Gryffindor ran his fingers through his messy hair-a habit that Draco noticed he was starting to pick up from his roommate-and sighed loudly.

“Draco…I know he’s really important to you and you want to make sure he’s safe and get him back here, but we can’t just run into this blindly. If there was anything I could do to bring him back right this second, I would. If you’d just listen to me for a few minutes…we can go to bed, get some sleep, and in the morning we’ll be alert enough to formulate a plan.”

A compromise. If he did what Harry felt was best for now, Harry would help him plot in the morning. While it wasn’t the optimal solution, Draco knew that he had lost this battle. With a resigned sigh, he followed his roommate back upstairs and began to get ready for bed.

The young Slytherin hadn’t been asleep for nearly long enough when the screams started. His silver eyes shot open as his mind frantically tried to figure out what was going on, and within seconds he was coherent enough to move to the bed next to his and try to shake the other boy awake.

Harry bolted upright, knocking Draco off the bed as he clawed at his hair, his breathing ragged, sweat glistening on his ashen face.

The blonde stood, brushing his pajama bottoms off as he crossed his arms and glared at Harry, “What’s the point of dragging me to bed if you’re just going to wake me up an hour later?”

“Sod off Draco.” Harry muttered, his breath still coming in short gasps as he buried his face into his drawn knees, “I had a vision.”

“No kidding.”

Harry clearly stiffened at the sarcastic tone Draco had decided to use, and the blonde boy forced himself to try and act more like a friend than an annoyed roommate for a few moments, “Tell me about it.”

“Why should I?”

“I presume it was about Severus?”

Harry nodded, his eyes closed as he managed to take a few deep breaths, “And?”

Draco sat next to his one-time enemy and put a hand on his back, cringing inwardly at the familiarity he was displaying and the general feeling of concern that was emanating off of his usually detached self. As much as he didn’t want to be, Draco found himself concerned for Harry and wishing he could do something to ease the other boy’s pain. At the same time, he hated his mother, Severus and Harry for putting him in this position and setting him up to feel this way about someone he had spent the last few years passionately hating.

“And…” Draco said slowly, “I need to know what’s going on with him and you clearly won’t be going back to sleep any time soon, so you may as well tell me.”

Harry took a deep breath, shivering slightly, “He’s alive.”

“And?”

“And he’s pretty roughed up, but I don’t think they’re going to kill him yet. I don’t know where they’re at, but maybe next time I’ll be able to get more of a sense of their location. Voldemort isn’t too terribly angry, as much as he’s amused by something—probably how easy he was able to fool us all and capture Snape. We have some time…we need to find a way to locate them and save him though.”

“No kidding.” Draco replied darkly, “I can’t wait to get my hands on whatever scumbag infiltrated the school and disposed of Dumbledore. That’s the one place we’re supposed to be safe from all of this insanity.”

“We’re safe here.” Harry whispered with a sigh. He was silent for a few moments before asking, “Do you think Dumbledore’s dead?”

“No.” Draco replied instantly, looking at his roommate as though he had completely lost his mind. If Dumbledore was dead, Voldemort would have completely taken over the school, he would have paraded the elder wizard’s body around like a trophy, he wouldn’t have wasted his time on Severus, he would have come to Harry with his wand drawn.

Harry remained silent for a few moments, then angrily jumped to his feet, swearing loudly, “I can’t believe this is happening. Hogwarts is supposed to be safe. Dumbledore is supposed to be invincible. Snape’s supposed to be here with us. This was supposed to be a quiet summer. I’m sick of just sitting around, we need to figure out where he is and get him out of there…when he’s back, I want the two of you to train me in the dark arts, I want to end this once and for all.”

Draco stepped away from Harry as he began to vent, silently in agreement with the other boy’s emotional outburst. As he watched Harry sink back onto his crimson bed, the jumbled thoughts swimming in Draco’s overwhelmed mind finally fell into place and he grabbed the Gryffindor by the arms, “I think I have a way…but you aren’t going to like it. And it may be dangerous.”

Harry ran his fingers through his raven hair, loudly letting out a shaky breath. He wasn’t sure why he was letting Draco do this to him. Certainly there was no love lost between Snape and he, why should he put himself through all of this just for his professor’s sake? When had his professor ever cared about him? When did he ever go out of his way to help Harry out of a tough situation, wasn’t he always the one who put Harry in tough situations?

Even as he thought it, he knew it was a lie. Snape had done his fair share of saving during Harry’s time at Hogwarts, whether it be keeping Quirrell from jinxing his broom during his first quidditch match or putting himself between three thirteen year olds and a werewolf. He had to try to save Snape, because if the situation were reversed, the professor would do anything within his power to rescue Harry yet again.

Besides, he had seen a side of Snape this summer that he hadn’t seen before, he didn’t have to let Harry stay with him, Harry didn’t even deserve such treatment after his recklessness had gotten his godfather killed. No, he owed it to Snape to do anything he could to help.

The raven-haired boy stood, locking his knees as his legs trembled slight, and he paced the room, his toes sinking into the lush carpet with every step. Between Draco and he, Harry was certain there would be a need to replace the carpeting by the time Severus returned to them. Pacing seemed to be their favorite activity for the three days they had been left alone.

His lungs burned and he felt slightly lightheaded as the musty smell of a potion brewing seeped into the room. Doubling over, he violently pushed the putrid air from his lungs in hacking coughs. The coughing subsided rather quickly, but his chest remained tight with anxiety. If Draco was nearly done preparing the potion, it would be time to take it soon. The Gryffindor closed his eyes and took a deep breath, he could handle this. He was strong and brave, he could do this without losing it completely.

His legs moved without Harry being aware that he was thinking about walking, and when he finally become aware of his actions, he held a knife in his hand. He took a step backwards, bumping into the counter behind him, and took in his surroundings. Even though the lights were off, the cold tile floor and solitary window indicated that he was in the kitchen. How had he even gotten downstairs without remembering?

Harry gripped the knife tightly in his hand, holding his breath as he edged his way closer to the door. The potions lab was on the way back from the kitchen and he couldn’t let Draco find him holding a sharp object. At best, they would get into another lecture about self harm, at worst he would call the whole plan off. No, he wasn’t about to let their summer guardian die.

The Gryffindor boy raised his free hand to cover his mouth and nose and quietly exhaled as he took a few more light steps, his back centimeters from the wall. He felt like his heart would beat out of his chest and wondered if Draco could hear it within the confines of the lab. Carefully, he inched towards the stairs and finally began to breathe easily once he had reached the staircase.

Shiny dark wood chilled his feet as Harry took the first step, then another. He could hear Draco humming a song he didn’t recognize in the lab, and he began to relax, gripping the knife tighter in his hand. The Gryffindor knew he could do this, do his part to save Snape. He just needed to relieve some of the pressure that was building up inside of him first. Then he would be able to think, then he would be able to focus.  

The fourth stair creaked. Harry sucked in a breath, his left foot hovering an inch or so over the offending piece of wood, panic rising in his chest. The teen had never been so nervous, if Draco found out about this Harry would have no choice but to ignore the impulses raging through his body like a newly broken dam. That alone might drive him over the edge and into complete insanity. One minute passed, then another, and only after the third did the raven-haired boy release the breath he had been holding and stealthily scale the staircase.

Harry sprinted into the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind him and sinking to the floor with a sigh of relief. He had made it; his roommate was none the wiser. The blade glistened under the bright light of the room and Harry quietly murmured a spell to dim the offending orb. His heart raced in anticipation and a light coat of sweat glistened on his pale face as the stainless silver blade lightly grazed his translucent skin.

The first cut always stung the worst, the copper smell causing his eyes to water and his throat to tighten with a dry heave, but the release was instantaneous and euphoric.

Ten strokes later, the Gryffindor calmly stood and turned the water on, rinsing his crimson dirty secret off of his skin. He gripped both sides of the sink as he watched the water change from red to pink and finally to clear, then Harry shut his bright green eyes and took several steadying breaths. He felt sick, not ready to end his unorthodox method of release, but knowing that Draco would be upstairs with the completed potion soon.

Harry rubbed his pale cheeks roughly with the palms of his hands, trying to initiate some color in his cheeks so he could at least pretend to be normal for a few moments. Slightly dizzy, he stumbled back to his bed and collapsed, staring at the ceiling once more.

It wasn’t long before Draco entered, a dark look on his ashen face. His hair was disheveled and there were dark smudges staining several spots on his arms and face. The hair surrounding his face was matted with sweat, and if Harry had to be totally honest, the other boy reeked. In his hand he held a phial of a steaming black liquid that looked remarkably like the motor oil Harry had seen his uncle pouring into the car once.

“I would ask you if you were sure you wanted to do this, but after working on that potion for six hours, you don’t have a choice.”

Harry smiled at the other boy’s statement, not a genuinely happy smile like he would have given Ron—how his heart ached just to think his friend’s name—or Hermione, but a bitter one that showed he understood completely.

The blonde’s green silk shirt glistened slightly as the Slytherin sat on Harry’s bed, holding out the vial, and Harry took it with a shaky hand. He hated the color green; it would forever be associated with death to him. Death to his parents, death to Cedric, death to Seamus, death to Weasleys, death to the countless victims he had seen repeatedly tortured only to be murdered by a single green light. The Gryffindor shuddered, tightening his grip on the smooth glass vial so it wouldn’t break in his unsteady grip.

“Are you ready?”

“Are you?” Draco retorted, his silver eyes narrowed in uncharacteristic concern, “After all, you have more at stake here than I do.”

Harry nodded, sitting with his back against the pillow on his bed. Giving Draco a wry smile, he raised the vial in a mock toast and whispered “bottom’s up” before drinking the vile mixture with a shudder.

Within seconds, he was unconscious.

~*~

Severus weakly wiped the warm liquid from his forehead, not needing to open his eyes to determine it was blood that was threatening to slide into his closed eyes. His muscles tensed as he carefully moved his arm back down to his side, and with a frown he tried to block out the pain. He only had to hold on a little longer, then he’d be able to make his escape.

Voldemort was nothing, if not predictable. From the way things were progressing, every day the person who was guarding him rotated every twelve hours, and if Goyle Sr. came on duty, Severus’ theory that they alternated every day would prove to be correct as well. If that was the case, escaping would be just a matter of biding his time until one of the newer death eaters, Pearce, was on duty again. He had taught Jackson Pearce during his time at Hogwarts, and he had no doubt that he’d be able to overtake the rookie, even in his worn condition.

Sure enough, the next time the door opened the elder Goyle strode into the room with an introductory ‘crucio’ to start the afternoon with. He was an oaf of a man, rich and loud but not very powerful. While Severus still had to bite his lip to keep from crying out, it wasn’t nearly as bad as when some of the more seasoned death eaters cast the spell on him. Bitter blood began to coat his teeth and gums, causing Severus to grimace. He wouldn’t be surprised if he bit a hole clean through his lip by the time he was able to orchestrate an escape, but in the end the pain in his mouth would heal and the satisfaction that the bastards never heard him utter a sound would remain forever.

Goyle lifted the curse, twirling his wand around his oversized fingers with a sick smile on his sweaty, puce face. He stared at Severus, his yellow and green teeth barred, “Got a surprise for you, traitor.”

“You are going to take a shower?” Severus replied dryly, licking the blood off the surfaces of his mouth and spitting onto the floor while the tubby man turned towards the door.

His heart skipped a few beats when he heard the familiar hissing voice of his former master in the doorway, “Severusssssss…the time has come.”

Severus bit back a sarcastic response and jerked back as Goyle pulled him roughly to his feet. The blood he had been able to hold at bay in bed now steadily dripped down his forehead and clouded his vision and he slightly swayed on his feet.

“I am displeased that you were not loyal to me in the least.” Voldemort hissed, circling the former spy, “Instead you relayed my secrets to that old fool and helped protect Harry Potter.”

Severus winced as his former leader spat out the name of the boy in his care, his rancid breath wafting into the professor’s nostrils as words were whispered in his ear.

“You…I could have achieved my goals if it weren’t for you. Do you know what happens to those who betray me?”

Severus remained silent, jumping slightly when he felt a wand poking into his spine, “They meet the most…unfortunate….endings.”

Severus closed his eyes for a moment, steeling himself as he heard the word ‘crucio’ whispered in his ear, but his resistance was futile as he fell to his knees, pain blossoming in every inch of his already worn body. He had to find a way out of this, he was so close to escaping, and it couldn’t end like this, not now, not after everything he had been through. Through the haze of pain, he barely noticed when the curse stopped, but he couldn’t help but notice the change in the air that occurred moments later.

~*~

The differences between a regular vision and a potions-induced vision were remarkable. Pressure assaulted his head like a pair of vice grips, intensifying exponentially as the rest of his body felt detached and as if it were falling from a great height, such as a broom accident. Everything was pitch black, noise distorted and agonizing until suddenly he was blinded by a bright light.

“Severussssss.”

Harry fought to keep his own emotions under control as his enemy tortured the potions master, it would do no good to let Voldemort know that their minds were connected. He wondered briefly if it were possible that the snaky bastard could sense the link or knew there was a mental invasion taking place, much like he was able to feel Snape probing his mind during occulmency lessons, but quickly banished the thought for fear he’d give himself away.

Letting go of his thoughts and emotions were hard, as he had learned with his harsh professor the previous term, and Harry found it no less difficult to clear his mind now that he was intoxicated on Draco’s potion and anxious over his current position. From what his roommate had explained beforehand, it was quite possible that if Voldemort knew Harry was this far into his mind, he could reverse the link and do serious damage, starting with possession and ending with insanity.

Righteous anger flared against Harry’s conscious effort to block out emotion as the cruciatus was cast once more, and as did his anxiety and depression lead him aimlessly to the knife drawer earlier, he found himself compelled to do something, to take some sort of action. Breathing deeply, he tried to override this desire with as little emotion and thinking as possible. He was in this unfortunate position just to gain information, if they could tell where Severus was, they would be able to find a way to help. And when they got there, Harry was going to make Voldemort pay.

A surge of hatred flooded Harry’s body and mind, but Voldemort either didn’t notice or felt it was his own and Harry tried to focus hard enough to take in all of the room’s surroundings. Once the mental link was broken, he was going to try and let Draco legalimise him in the hopes that the former death-eater-in-training would be able to deduce their location.

He watched in barely suppressed horror as his professor collapsed, his bruised and battered body fighting valiantly against the curse that threatened to incapacitate him. Anger and hatred blossomed, reaching out to engulf every ounce of Harry’s mind and body, as he watched Snape hover somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness, fueled by the thoughts of everyone who had been lost in this stupid ‘war’ so far. Channeling all of this overwhelming, suffocating emotion into one thought, he pushed into his enemy’s mind as hard as possible, his own mind shuddering with feeling as he screamed ‘Avada Kadavra’!

Then he knew no more.

~*~

Draco sat on the soft carpet, twirling the empty vial in his shaking hand. His back ached from being pressed against the cold metal frame of Harry’s bed, but he made no attempt to readjust himself or move to the confines of his warm, soft bed. When the tremble of his hands became too intense, the vial fell with a quiet thud, the remaining bit of potion slowly oozing onto the pristine floor.

They shouldn’t have done this. It was risky and they hadn’t bothered to make any contingency plans. Draco had witnessed enough of Harry’s visions and dreams to know that by this point, he should be in pain, screaming, moaning, something other than perfectly still and quiet. Something had gone wrong…what if he had brewed the potion incorrectly? What if he had put Harry into a coma? Or killed him?

At that thought, Draco scrambled to his feet and bent over the raven-haired boy, intently staring at his chest to make sure it was rising and falling. His legs shook with relief when he observed a normal breathing pattern, and he slowly sank back to the floor, leaning his aching head against the side of the bed. So Harry was alive, that was a good start, but things were far from fine.

Resting his head on his knees in an uncharacteristically vulnerable position, Draco took several deep, calming breaths. Panic would do no good, Harry wouldn’t wake up until the potion wore off and with communication cut off there was no one he could go to for help. A burst of anxiety surged through the blonde’s veins as a vision of being totally alone in the house indefinitely flashed before him. He shuddered, shaking his head vigorously. No, Harry would be fine. The Slytherin knew he had brewed the potion correctly, he had checked his work thoroughly before leaving the lab.

Harry slightly moaned, and Draco once again leapt to his feet, this time with relief. Finally, there was an indication of life! He sank into the crimson comforter, squeezing Harry’s hand reassuringly even though he was quite certain the boy would not be able to feel or sense his presence. Any other time the blonde would be apprehensive that his roommate was slipping into another vision, dreading the theatrics that would follow, but the idea that they were taking steps to rescue his godfather negated any of the anxiety he normally felt in this situation.

The next few minutes were a blur and when it was all done with, Draco would barely be able to recount the details.

Harry began to thrash, though not to the severity of his normal episodes, and Draco fought to hold him down so neither of them got hurt, not failing to notice the angry red gashes on Harry’s forearms. Angry screams erupted from the Gryffindor’s mouth and the normally bright green eyes opened widely and flashed red for a moment before closing again. Harry struggled under Draco’s tight grasp, then stilled for only a second before the blonde was thrown across the room as magic erupted around the Gryffindor’s bed. Pictures rattled on the walls and the two windows in the room shattered, littering the floor with shards of broken glass. As Draco stood, rubbing the tender spot where his head had hit the wall, his roommate shouted ‘Avada Kadavra’ and  then went silent. The pictures stopped moving. The moans Harry had been eliciting nearly constantly for the last few minutes quieted and Harry remained perfectly still on the bed.

Draco tentatively crept to Harry’s bed, calling the other boy’s name softly as he approached. Laying a shaking hand on Harry’s chest, Draco felt an icy chill run through his body. The Gryffindor’s chest wasn’t moving. Tears sprang into the Slytherin’s eyes as he sank to the floor, shaking violently as he wrapped his arms around his knees once more. What was he going to do? This had gone terribly wrong.

“What is going on in here?” A scratchy, but collected, voice asked from the doorway, “What has happened?”

Draco let out a moan as he tried to catch his breath and speak, overcome with the tears that were spilling onto his knees as he buried his head deeper, as if that would shield him from what he was struggling to say. After a few seconds, he choked out, “Harry…Harry’s dead.”

Harry opened his eyes, the daylight assaulting his consciousness as if someone were hammering nails into his skull. Groaning softly, the teen shut his eyes once more, trying to recall why he felt as if he had been hit by a brick wall and then trampled on by a herd of hippogriffs. He heard voices speaking around him, but it felt as if his ears were filled with water and he couldn’t tell if they were speaking beside him, above him, below him or if they were rooms away. He tried to make out what they were saying but he couldn’t make out anything clearly, and trying caused the pain in his head to erupt even further.

He exhaled slowly, wanting to rub his eyes, maybe shield them from the light so he could open them and try to figure out where he was, but it felt as if his entire body was made of lead. Harry wasn’t sure if he could move if his life depended on it. Oh, how he hoped his life wouldn’t depend on it.

The Gryffindor’s head gave a particularly painful throb as he felt himself being forced into a sitting position, and even with his eyes shut it felt like everything around him was spinning at high speeds. He felt a vial pressed against his lips and he instinctively opened his mouth, nearly choking as a bitter liquid assaulted his tongue.

Harry felt himself being lowered back onto his back and was aware that the voices were speaking once more, and this time the words were slightly less garbled.

“What has been given to him?”

“The draught of life, he was completely unresponsive when I got to him, two blood replenishers, two pain relievers and a fever reducer. I’ve just given him the second pain reliever, he is starting to regain consciousness.”

“How long has he been unconscious?”

“13 hours since…the incident…and another 2 since he took the mind connecting potion.”

As Harry listened to the voices he now recognized as Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape, bits and pieces of the previous night started to trickle back into his stream of consciousness. The potion. The vision. Snape’s torture. The Avada.

Harry quickly pushed himself into a sitting position despite his body’s protests and the vertigo that threatened to empty his stomach. “Voldemort.” He gasped, having a hard time catching his breath as he was overcome with anxiety, “Is he…?” Once again, the light was blinding to the teenage boy and he shut his eyes, pressing his hands against his face.

“Yes.”

Snape’s smooth voice penetrated Harry’s ears, and moments later Harry felt his hands being pried from his face. He moaned softly, trying to keep his hands in place to keep as much of the light out as possible, and tried to make sense of what had just been said, although he was having a hard time forming any coherent thoughts.

“Breathe, Harry. Breathe.” Severus instructed, finally succeeding in removing Harry’s hands and placing them at the teen’s side while pushing him back into a reclining position, “Relax and breathe, you stubborn child.”

“Light.” Harry groaned, struggling against Snape’s grip to shield his eyes, “Hurts.”

Through his closed lids, Harry could see the brightness recede and he blinked open his eyes once more, his eyes still sensitive to the dimmer light but no longer excruciatingly painful. His chest seemed to loosen as well and soon he was able to take a few deep breaths.

“Congratulations, Mr. Potter.” Severus said quietly, “Through the thoughtless, reckless, purely Gryffindor scheme that you and Draco concocted, you managed to kill Voldemort. One can only hope he remains dead this time.”

Harry flinched at the Professor’s cold tone. He hadn’t been expecting parades and a holiday in his honour for what he had accomplished, but he had been expecting at least a ‘well done’ from the professor.

“Harry!”

Harry struggled to sit again as he heard Draco’s voice, a bit surprised to hear an absolute lack of malice in the Slytherin’s tone. Whatever Draco wanted to say, however, was cut off by the sharp tones of the two adults in the room.

“Draco, didn’t I tell you to wait for me downstairs?” Snape snapped tersely at the same time as the healer sternly directed, “Mr. Malfoy, out this instant!”

With a scowl and a few choice words that Harry was quite certain were intended to be heard, Draco stormed off, his loud footsteps echoing up the stairwell.

“The diagnostic charms indicate low magical levels, exhaustion and malnutrition. A few meals and rest should fix him nicely and he’ll be as good as new by the end of the week.” Madam Pomfrey told Severus, looking down on Harry in exasperation, “There are some students that I never encounter, and then there’s the ones who should reserve their own bed in the hospital wing…”

“Thank you, Poppy, for coming out to check on him.” Severus replied, ushering the woman towards the door, “Any news on the headmaster?”

“He is still unconscious, we still haven’t been able to discern which curse Yaxley used on him and who knows how long Yaxley had been impersonating him…when I think of the information he must have had access to and the potential for disaster…” Poppy said fretfully as Severus walked her downstairs, “You may be angry with the boys for the methods in which they used, but had Voldemort lived on, the result for our side would have been disastrous. I doubt Albus would have survived much longer locked away in his chambers. “

Severus nodded grimly as he held out the pot of floo powder and bid the healer farewell, turning his attention to Draco, who sat with indignant silence on a chair near the window.

“Come upstairs, we have much to discuss.”

“You’d think we had joined the Dark Lord, the way you are acting.” Draco hissed, although he stood and followed his godfather upstairs, “We deserve an Order of Merlin for what we’ve done and all you can do is scowl. If it weren’t for us, you would have died there.”

“It is because of what you’ve done that Harry nearly died.” Severus replied sternly, “I expect stupidity from the Gryffindors, should I try to have you re-sorted? None of my Slytherins should have given this plan even an ounce of consideration. It was reckless and dangerous, you could have--”

“He was going to kill you! He nearly succeeded. If Harry and I hadn’t used the potion, you would have died! I cannot believe you are angry that we saved your miserable life!” Draco yelled, his voice hoarse with emotion as he continued, “I was worried about you, I didn’t want to lose you!”

Severus shook his head with a frown, “You don’t even understand why I’m angry with you two. Do you really think I feel my life is worth more than Harry’s?”

“Well his life certainly isn’t worth any more than yours!” Draco insisted angrily, stopping outside of the door of the bedroom he and the Gryffindor shared, “I don’t want either of you to die, but if we hadn’t have acted, you would have died and we would have been stuck here, alone, wondering what happened to you. Because of what we did, both of you lived, it’s as simple as that. I wasn’t trying to trade your life for Harry’s, and as unorthodox as our plan was, it worked!”

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly and silently counting to twenty to try and suppress his own anger. Obviously Draco was not able to understand the point of view of a mature adult, and it would do no good to yell about it any longer, to do so would just flare both of their tempers until they would inevitably say something they didn’t mean.

“Are you going to yell at Harry too?” Draco asked, his hand on the doorknob, “Because I think he’s been through enough already and deserves better from you, all things considered.”

Severus glared at Draco, opening the door and ushering the blonde in. He waited for Draco to take a seat, surprised that his godson had chosen to sit on the edge of Harry’s bed. Clearly, the two were getting along much better here than they did at school. He studied both boys for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t thankful that his life had been spared, or that they cared enough to concoct such a dangerous scheme to rescue him, but he couldn’t condone such dangerous and foolish measures.

The professor took a step towards the boys, his arms crossed, “I am very disappointed in the two of you.”

“What?” Harry asked, surprise and confusion evident on his face, “Disappointed?”

Severus sighed, fixing the boys with a stern glare, “Draco has already heard an earful about this particular subject, but I will say it in front of you as well, Harry. I never want to see such a reckless, foolish stunt from either of you again. Under no circumstances are you to risk your life, especially when you have no way to know the consequences of your actions or a means to summon help should the need arise. Do you have any idea how I would have felt if I had lost you, Harry? Draco, do you have any idea of how you would feel if Harry had died? No one your age should feel that sort of guilt!”

“Sorry, sir.” Draco said sullenly, knowing that arguing would get him nowhere at the moment.

“I’m sorry.” Harry replied tiredly, looking properly chastised. He hadn’t considered the way Snape would have felt if he returned home only to discover Harry dead. He shivered slightly, “We were just so worried about you, we thought if we could figure out where you were…”

“You would have done what? Ambushed Voldemort’s base? You do realize that the three of us are at the very top of his target list; we would have all been dead and the precautions we have taken this summer would be for naught.”

“We hadn’t thought that far ahead.” Harry mumbled, looking away from the potions master guiltily, “Sorry.”

Severus felt his anger deflating rapidly, and if he had to be honest with himself, he had been feeling more fear than anger at any rate. He couldn’t even begin to describe to the boys the panic he felt when Draco had told him Harry was unresponsive and presumably dead, and he never wanted to be faced with that heart-gripping combination of panic and fear again. He exhaled slowly and shook his head slightly, deciding that the speech he had been preparing for the two boys wasn‘t absolutely necessary, “Just promise me you will never do anything like this again.”

“I promise.” the two teens said in unison. Harry looked like he wanted to say more, but was cut off by a wide yawn.

Severus motioned for Draco to rise, “Draco, come assist me with the potions Harry will be needing. Harry, get some sleep.”

“But I’ve been sleeping.” the Gryffindor complained, although his voice was laced with fatigue and his eyes were already starting to grow heavy.

Severus smiled lightly, knowing Harry would probably be asleep before the two Slytherins even made it downstairs, and turned out the lights before shutting the door behind them.

Once alone in the hallway, Draco looked back at the bedroom for a moment before softly saying, “There’s something else I think you should know about Harry.”

~*~

Severus closed the door to the potions lab, turning to Draco in concern, waiting for the younger boy to speak. He could tell that whatever news Draco had to share was serious, although he had no idea what the boy could possibly say. Had they gotten into some sort of trouble during his captivity?

Draco clenched his hands into tight fists, dreading Severus’s reaction to the information he was about to reveal. He knew it was necessary, Harry’s self-injury could easily turn into something more serious, especially since the Golden Boy seemed to think his only purpose in life was to destroy Voldemort. With the Dark Lord gone, Draco was more worried than ever about what Harry may do.

“I wanted to tell you about this the day that you were taken.” Draco began, his voice trembling slightly. He felt like he was betraying the Gryffindor, despite his good intentions, and he found himself reluctant to break the delicate stand of trust that had developed between the two students since they had been living together. The Slytherin took a steadying breath, trying to organize his thoughts, “Harry is quite…well, distraught about those who have been killed, especially those who he had seen killed through his visions.”

“Obviously.” Severus said dryly, wondering where Draco was heading with this speech, since it had been blatantly clear that Harry was more than just distraught by the losses that had taken place this summer.

Draco frowned, trying to find an eloquent way to say what needed to be said. After a few moments of deliberation, he decided to just go ahead and say it without worrying about stating it delicately, “More than distraught. I found him in the bathroom one day, bleeding. He had been using a broken mirror fragment. He got defensive, and then the cuts just disappeared.”

The blonde boy sighed, “Last night, when he was in the middle of his vision, I saw his arms again and there were more cuts. They looked fresh.”

“Are you saying that Harry has been cutting himself? On purpose?” Severus asked, a mixture of worry and repulsion churning through his midsection, “Was it just those two times?”

Draco looked away, shivering slightly and looking quite guilty as he exposed his roommate’s secrets, “I don’t think so. He locks himself in the bathroom a lot, I didn’t know why at first, I thought maybe just to be away from me?, but I think that’s what he has been doing.”

Draco crossed his arms, hating that he had ratted Harry out although he knew it had to be done. He couldn’t stand by and watch Harry self-destruct, if the Gryffindor did succeed in taking his life, that would make Draco equally responsible for letting it go on without seeking help. On the other hand, he knew this would do irreparable damage to the friendship they had begun to forge. Tears filled his eyes and he furiously blinked them back, wondering why he was feeling so Gryffindorish--or would crying be more of a Hufflepuff trait?

Severus, on the other hand, was stunned into silence, unable to wrap his mind around what he had just been told. Harry? Self-injury? There was no way, Draco had to be mistaken. Yes, Harry was withdrawn and depressed. Yes, Harry had not been eating or sleeping properly. But had things really progressed this far? How could he have not seen signs of this? He studied Draco, looking for some indication that this was a lie or a horrible, twisted joke of sorts and felt his stomach drop when he could find no such sign. Without another word, he spun on his heel and headed back upstairs to get a look at these cuts for himself. Surely they would have shown up on the medical scans that he and Poppy had both conducted?

He stopped at the entrance to the boys’ room, realizing his hand was trembling as he reached for the doorknob. He was vaguely aware of Draco’s presence behind him, and he forced himself to get a grip and remain calm. There was no need to panic yet, Draco could still be wrong. He took a steadying breath and pushed the door open startling the dozing young wizard.

Without an apology or greeting, Severus quickly made his way to the Gryffindor’s bed, “Show me your arms.”

Harry shut his eyes with a hiss of irritation, and after a few seconds, he glared venomously at Draco, who stood sheepishly in the doorway. The hurt of betrayal was clear in Harry’s voice as he ignored Severus’s request, instead asking his new friend one angry, pain-filled question, “How could you?”