Harry sat on the floor of the kitchen against the wall, right by the door to the dining room, with his knees pulled up to his chest and his head leaned back against the wall. His breathing was harsh and raspy, his heart thudding in his ears.

The back door wouldn't open for him, as he'd discovered when he tried it a moment ago. He wasn't thinking about where he'd go, just that he needed to get away. When the door turned out locked, he'd tried an alohomora on it. It hadn't moved at all. The two men hadn't come out of the other room, so Harry slipped down the passage to the front door. That was also locked.

Harry took a quick look at the watch he wore. It read "After curfew". Snape had obviously planned this out. And there wasn't going to be any rescue by the Weasleys, this time.

Neither Snape nor Dumbledore were following him now, so he just posted himself by the door to try to listen to them.

He was in so much trouble. This was exactly like what had happened with Marge. He just lost it. Once he might have believed the headmaster would take up for him, but after what had happened this summer, his faith in Dumbledore was pretty well shot.

He couldn't imagine what they'd do with him, now. Perhaps an orphanage like Vernon and Petunia had always threatened. Did they have those in the Wizarding world? No, they couldn't send The Boy Who Lived to an orphanage. Perhaps a Muggle one, then.

He held his breath, straining to hear the men's conversation, they were speaking softly, but neither had put up a silencing charm.

He heard Snape tell Dumbledore that he wouldn't let Harry go to anyone else but the Weasleys.

That gave Harry the oddest feeling. Something like shock, and then a weird sort of warmth. The realization that Snape had kept every promise he'd ever made to Harry.

He was the only one who ever had, really.

Snape was still an unpleasant bastard, but he was reliable. What had he said that time when he'd taken Harry to Hogsmeade?

"This is not nice, this is responsible." Snape had said.

Snape didn't like him, but he didn't like Ginny either, and he'd done that spell that obviously debilitated him so much. From whispers around the school, the night Neville died, Snape had spent all night trying to save Neville's life.

Why couldn't he have done the same thing with Neville that he'd done with Ginny? That was a question Harry filed away for future contemplation.

In the meantime, it didn't matter that Snape didn't care about Harry. Snape had said that Harry wasn't the first student he'd had to take care of. It seemed that Snape cared about the students and was serious about being responsible for them. He'd replaced Harry's glasses and clothes without a word of complaint. The shopkeepers in Hogsmeade hadn't even batted an eye to see him doing that, so he'd done it before.

More than that, Snape cared about keeping his word; he had kept his promise not to inform the Ministry about the issues with the Dursleys. Now, he was keeping his promise that he would only transfer the guardian rights or whatever to the Weasleys.

It wasn't like having someone who wanted him, but Harry would take what he could get. He was tired of people who smiled to his face and then ordered his life as they pleased, not ever checking to see what Harry wanted or needed. Dumbledore had sent him to the Dursleys, after all.

Harry tried not to think too much about that.

Harry heard the two men stand. Noiselessly, Harry darted out into the passage and up the front stairs, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping.

Hedwig had already flown off to hunt, Harry was disappointed to see. He closed his bedroom door, careful not to make a sound.

He threw himself down on the bed, not bothering to turn on his light. The light from the streetlamp outside illuminated the room sufficiently. He lay there, staring at the ceiling, thinking about how he'd shouted at the headmaster and Snape. He'd thrown Snape's dishes around the dining room and broken drinking glasses with his magic. No doubt that Snape wasn't happy with him.

The bed was shaking...no, it was he who was shaking. Shaking hard enough to shake the bed. He closed his eyes, turning onto his side and pulling the blanket over him, feeling like he wanted to hide. He tried to tell himself he was not going to cry. There was no reason to cry and he wasn't a baby any more.

It wasn't much use, so instead he burrowed into his blankets, muffled his noise with his pillow and just gave in.

His tears never lasted long, and he had learned, when he was tiny, to do it quietly. Vernon and Petunia would never put up with it. They always said, "Stop your crying or I'll give you something to cry about." If the threat didn't shut him up, a smack or a flip around his ear would surely follow.

A long time later, it seemed, he heard the front door open and shut. Harry's cheeks had dried and he was lying in his bed, considering whether he should bother to change into pajamas, or at least slip off his jeans and socks.

Slow footsteps mounted the stairs. Harry hoped that Snape was headed back to bed. He curled tighter into himself, pulling the blanket over his head.

There was a soft knock at the door. Harry ignored it, willing the man to just go away. Perhaps if Snape thought him asleep, he'd hold off on punishing Harry for what he'd just said to Dumbledore until the morning.

The door opened quietly.

Harry held himself stiffly. Wondering when the shouting would begin. He felt the man staring at him, not saying a word for a long time. Harry stubbornly remained curled up on himself, he resolved he wouldn't even look at Snape, until he had to. However, long minutes ticked by and Harry wasn't sure the man was still there. Perhaps Snape had gone off to his own room without Harry hearing him?

Finally, unable to stand it, he lifted his head off the pillow. Snape stood there in the doorway, leaning against the side. Not saying anything at all, his grave expression half hidden in shadow.

"What?" Harry hated the rough quaver in his voice and he was unable to suppress a sniffle before he spoke. He held his breath, waiting for Snape's sharp voice to outline his faults and to mete out punishments.

"You didn't eat much." Snape replied softly, "I still don't want you missing meals." he sounded almost gentle.

That wasn't what Harry expected, "Not hungry." Harry tried to growl, but it came out as more of a whine. He put his head back down on the bed and screwed his eyes shut.

A sigh and the sound of a chair being pulled across the floor. Harry kept his eyes tightly shut. If he'd have spoken to any of Vernon's friends like that, he would have already gotten the belt. He didn't expect that from Snape, anymore, but he was at least going to be cleaning cauldrons until the end of the year.

A hand came to rest gently on his shoulder. Harry flinched a little, but Snape didn't take his hand away.

The hand on his shoulder seemed to undo him, in a way that all Snape's snarking, sarcasm and detentions had never done. Harry gasped in a breath that turned into a sob on the exhale. To Harry's utter horror, another sob followed and then another. It felt like some outside force was tearing these sounds from him. The hand on his shoulder never moved, but grasped his shoulder firmly.

That was it for the remains of Harry's self control, it seemed. His sobs grew louder and he took great shuddering gulps of air that didn't help at all.

Snape's hand still didn't move.

Harry just couldn't stop. He wasn't even sure what he was crying for, after a few minutes. Finally, the hand withdrew, but before Harry could pull himself together, the bed dipped as the man sat beside him.

"Move over a bit." Snape whispered, picking up his long legs to stretch out them out on the bed, while he leaned his back against the headboard.

Completely nonplussed, Harry scooted over, taking his whole blanket coccoon with him.

An arm snaked behind Harry's shoulders Snape gathered Harry's unresisting body, blankets and all, against his side.

Harry had no memory of ever being touched this way. Hermione hugged him all the time, of course, and Mrs. Weasley always greeted him and sent him off with a hug. Occaisionally on of the teachers who were fond of him went so far as to pat him on the shoulder. Once, when he was in primary school, the nurse had held him on her lap after a particularly bad weekend

His trembling grew more pronounced and everything from the past summer and autumn seemed to gather into one huge, suffocating ball of misery in his chest. The sobs clawed their way out, no matter that Harry tried to swallow them down.

Snape didn't say anything, he just continued to hold Harry as though he were a much younger child. Harry was beyond shame, only aware that he couldn't bear to part with this warm, human contact. This seemed to bring a relief that Harry had never felt before. A sense that he wasn't alone in the world, feeling he could not remember ever having, even at Hogwarts. It didn't matter that Snape would probably rake him over the coals come morning.

After a while, Harry's sobs quieted. Snape pulled a handkerchief from somewhere, handing it to Harry without speaking.

Harry stole a glance at the potion master. Snape still looked dead tired, his eyes closed, but he wasn't sleeping, his arm was still tight around Harry.

Harry drew back and Snape let him, but his dark eyes opened to look at Harry.

"Better?" Snape asked, quietly.

Harry nodded, wiping his eyes and blowing his nose.

"Would you like something to eat?" Snape wouldn't let that go, apparently.

Harry shook his head, "Not hungry." he replied.

Snape sighed, looking resigned, "Will you at least have a cup of tea?"

Harry nodded.

The man pulled out his wand and gave it a wave. The tea tray appeared on the desk. Snape stood and walked over to pour, "I'm going to put some calming draught in." He told Harry, still speaking quietly, "I'd like you to get some decent sleep, at least."

Harry pulled himself up to sit with his feet on the floor, still wrapped in all the blankets from the bed. Snape handed him the tea, poured himself a cup. He sat back down on the chair, so that they faced each other.

Harry sipped at the tea which was heavily sugared and had an undertone of something like old socks in it. He kept drinking it.

Snape sat back in his chair, studying Harry. He crossed his legs and put his elbows on the hard wooden arms, cradling his tea cup in his two hands.

Harry would have been more nervous about the scrutiny, but the sock flavored tea seemed to be doing its' job. His stomach and shoulders slowly unclenched.

"How much of the Headmaster and my conversation did you hear?" Snape asked, at last.

"I didn't..." Harry began, but Snape raised a sceptical eyebrow, "Oh. Erm." Harry felt his cheeks coloring, "Just to the part where you said you didn't want anyone else but the Weasleys to have me." Harry wondered, not for the first time, if Snape read minds.

The professor nodded, "And, so I won't."

Harry stared at the man. Finally blurting out, "Why?"

"Why...what?" Snape returned, slowly.

"Why don't you want to just get rid of me?" Harry asked, confused, "I mean..." he stopped, not sure what he meant.

Snape looked at him levelly, "I do not believe in passing off duties, once I have accepted them."

That seemed cold, but to Harry, it made sense. Snape was all about duty.

The Professor leaned forward to take the cup that Harry had emptied, "Potter, I have already told you, that I do not intend to take up where your relatives left off. That includes, not abandoning you at first opportunity. Do you understand?" he said, "I will not change our arrangements without at least informing you."

Harry shrugged. Now that he no longer had his tea cup in his hand, he twined his fingers in the blankets.

"I am...that is I wanted to say..." Snape seemed terribly uncomfortable suddenly, his gaze shifting away from Harry's face to somewhere in the corner of the ceiling. His eyes came back to look into Harry's and the wizard made a movement as though squaring his shoulders, "I am sorry."

"Huh?" Harry wasn't sure what the man was apologizing for. He shifted uncomfortably, pulling the blankets tighter around himself.

"I would like to apologize to you for..." Snape began again.

Harry jumped in, before the the man could get far, "It's fine. Don't worry." Harry didn't think he could bear to hear whatever Snape had to say. It was embarrassing enough, without the man going all apologetic over poor, pitiful Harry.

Snape stopped, cleared his throat, "Yes, well..." he looked uncertain, for a minute. That was a look Harry had never seen on his face before, "Will you be able to sleep, do you think?"

Harry nodded.

Snape stood up, vanished the tea things, "If you need anything, knock on my door." He said, as he left the room, "Good night."

Harry just stared as the door closed.