It has been three days since I gave Dad my essay, and he hasn't spoken a word to me about it. Of course, I haven't really seen him all that much either, though. I had woken up that following morning on the couch to him grumbling as he walked into our rooms. I instantly handed the essay to him, but he tossed it aside and thanked me before retreating to his bedroom. Later that day, he cancelled our Astronomy class by having Malfoy deliver a note to me. In fact, I haven't had Astronomy since Tuesday, and it's now Friday.

I've spoken to Professor Sinistra about Dad. She keeps repeating to me that he just has some things working on him, but that he'll be back to his usual self soon. I can see it at breakfast, though. She takes quick glances at him, which he doesn't seem to notice. She's worried, but I can't tell if she's worried about Dad or the same that's worrying all the professors.

When I wake up this morning, I immediately go to check on Dad. It's just become a habit of mine. His bed is empty, though, and I can tell he didn't sleep in it again. I quickly duck my head into his private lab in our rooms. Again, he's not there. I then dress and check his office and classroom. Both rooms are empty. Sighing, I slowly drag myself up to the Great Hall for breakfast, thinking that he might have gone there. I'm disappointed once more as I notice that he's the only professor missing.

"Morning, Harry," Professor Sinistra says with a faint smile. I only nod and take my usual seat. I can see the hurt in her eyes. At least I think it's hurt. "Severus isn't up yet, is he?"

"I haven't seen him," I respond quietly. A few minutes later, I draw in a steadying breath and catch her gaze. "I've looked everywhere for him, Professor."

"Obviously not everywhere, Harry," drawls Dad as he takes his seat with a familiar wince.

"You two dueled again last night?" I squawk, glancing at Professor Sinistra with accusing eyes. That would make their fourth duel this week, judging by how Dad walks with a limp and how blood covers him whenever I see him now.

"Cease your foolish glare at once," he hisses. He then glares at me before angrily shaking his head. "I do not appreciate your insinuations, Harry. If you must know, though, my injuries are not a result of a duel with her." My eyes instantly narrow. "That is all you will get from me. Now apologize for your atrocious behavior this morning."

"Severus, it's all right. I understand. Harry's just concerned about you. Really, everything is fine," Professor Sinistra says before trying to grab Dad's hand. He recoils from her touch, though.

"Dad, what's wrong?" I'm surprised at how easily the word slides off my tongue now. Then again, he has left me alone so I've had lots of time to practice saying it. If I weren't so worried about him, I might have smiled. I nearly flinch when he yanks a copy of the Daily Prophet out of his robes and throws it on the table in disgust.

"This, this is what's wrong," he snarls pointing a finger at the paper.

My eyes widen at the headline and subsequent picture underneath. "Massacre in Devington" appears in big bold letters at the top of the paper. I then turn away as I see the mangled bodies in the picture. Slowly, I glance at Dad and notice him angrily rubbing his left forearm.

"Oh, those poor souls," one of the professors says next to me.

"It's the third night in a row, Albus," Dad growls glaring at the paper. "There doesn't seem to be a pattern or reason for all these deaths."

"Yes, I have also noticed that," the headmaster remarks quietly.

"Was it him? The one who killed my parents?" softly I ask not having the courage to say the name. Dad's eyes flicker to me before they darken. The look he gives me instantly makes me feel sick.

"What do you think?" he replies coldly. "Of course it's him. It's ALWAYS HIM!" he roars.

"Severus, you will control yourself now!" Professor Sinistra snarls after seeing my unintentional flinch at the sound of anger in Dad's voice.

I catch his glare instantly at her, but Professor Sinistra doesn't even react to it. Slowly, Dad releases a breath before glancing at me. He then turns away and massages his temples, which I know means he has a massive headache now. He shields his face from me before growling behind his hands.

"I apologize, Harry," Dad says a few seconds later. He sounds worn out now.

"It's all right," I reply glancing at my plate full of food.

"No. No, it's not 'all right,' Harry. I should not have lost my temper with you." Dad then glances at me before sighing again. "I have not been sleeping lately, which I'm sure you've noticed." I don't respond. After all, it wouldn't be bright of me if I just blurted to all of my professors that I continuously checked my dad's bed at night to see if I just happened to miss him walking into our rooms. It also wouldn't be bright of me to mention that Wednesday night into Thursday I slept in his bed since I had not seen him at all Wednesday. "It is no excuse, though, for my atrocious behavior."

I see him try to manage a weak smirk, but I can still see the anger in his eyes. I know he's not directing his anger at me, though. I know that I sometimes feel helpless reading about these attacks in the paper. Silently, I wonder if Dad feels helpless too.

"In lieu of the tragic events of these past few days, perhaps it'd be best if I cancelled classes for today," the headmaster suddenly speaks up saying. He catches us all off guard. "I'm certain that we are not the only ones in this castle feeling the strain." He then glances at me before smiling somberly. "Perhaps you could get some flying in before the storm rolls in, Harry," he suggests.

My eyes narrow on the headmaster. I have wanted to go flying, but I just want to stay close to Dad right now. If this is another of those adults' ways of trying to get children out of the room, then he's going to find out I can be very stubborn when I want to be. Then again, he did add that kooky thing about a storm rolling in. I glance at the windows. It's sunny outside and looks like it's going to be another amazing summer day.

"I kind of would like to stay with Dad today, Professor," I say quietly.

"Harry, go fly," Dad replies tiredly. At the sight of my large eyes, he shakes his head with mild amusement. "As you already witnessed this morning, I'm not in the greatest of moods. I'll likely just sleep with my day off."

"But, Dad—"

"Harry, do as I say," he responds evenly. He then glances at me and shakes his head. "I'll join you outside later after I get some rest."

"Have I done something wrong?" I ask quietly.

"You have not, Harry, unless there is something you'd like to admit to?" When I shake my head, he nods curtly at me. "I thought not."

"Was it my essay then?"

"No, Harry, this has nothing to do with your essay. Is that what you've been thinking? That I've been avoiding you since you gave it to me?"

I can feel all of my professors' eyes on me so I shake my head slowly. After all, what am I going to say? Yeah, Dad, that's exactly what I thought. I thought that you read my essay and decided that I'm too broken for you. So you decided that it'd be better if you hid from me these past few days so that I don't know that you're regretting adopting me. Yeah, he'd surely deny my thoughts outright.

"Harry, look at me." Slowly, I do as he asks. His dark eyes glance towards Dumbledore briefly before resting on me again. "I assure you that I have not been avoiding you. And if I could, I would have rather been with you than where I was."

"But where were you?"

"I cannot tell you that, Harry," he instantly responds. "You must take my word for it. I was not avoiding you, Harry, nor would I ever." He then reaches into his robes and pulls out a rolled up parchment. He hands it out to me, which I take with a questioning look. "Well, it was only reasonable I would respond to your essay."

"You wrote me a response?" I ask in pure disbelief.

"I believe I just stated that, Harry."

"But why?" quietly I ask.

"Since I knew that there was a very high likelihood that you'd react this way due to my frequent absences this past week, I decided to use my time this morning to write you a response."

"But you weren't in our rooms this morning."

"You are correct. I was not." I narrow my eyes trying to get my answer. "Even if I wanted to tell you, I could not, Harry."

"Something's going on." I then glance around at the table and notice most of the professors have returned to their breakfast. "And you're all involved, aren't you? What is it? Please. What's going on? Does it have something to do with all these attacks? Are all of you planning something to defeat Him?"

"Enough," Dad says with a stern look.

"I need to know, though!"

"No. You don't. You are fourteen years old, Harry. You do not need to know every little detail of what is going on in the world. Just focus on your studies."

"But—"

"Harry, do as I say now," commands Dad. He then sighs and stands up. There isn't anger in his moves, but mostly frustration. "If you'll excuse me, Headmaster," he says politely.

"Of course, Severus," Dumbledore responds with a slight bow of his head.

I watch Dad quietly limp back out of the Great Hall. I shake my head feeling as if my day is truly going to suck now. I don't understand it. Why is he always leaving? I can understand that he's tired, but he could have at least let me spend the day with him.

I then feel Professor Sinistra's dark eyes on me. She's been trying to cheer me up lately. Just yesterday during my scheduled Astronomy class, she took time to help me study for several of my classes. Later, we went down to the kitchens for some butterbeer and ice cream. Of course, I don't know if I'm right if it's for me that she trying to cheer up or herself. I only nod at her, though, and untie the green ribbon around Dad's response. I have to admit that I am rather curious as to what his response is. Most of the things I get from Dad are "Finish your homework," "Astronomy's cancelled for this evening," and my personal favorite "Detention at 7 this evening."

Almost immediately, my eyes widen at how long his response is. I had thought that it'd just be a few lines, not this. It's practically a book. Spots of red smudge with the familiar green ink, which makes my stomach lurch slightly. It doesn't take a Ravenclaw to figure out the red smudges are spots where his blood smeared into the parchment. This response only makes me more nervous and fearful for Dad. He's keeping something big from me, and I can only guess that it involves Him.