Yet another morning found Severus waking feeling as though he hadn't slept at all. After another night had been filled with dreams of the dead.

Last night had been different, though. Instead of talking to the menagerie of unquiet spirits that insisted on occupying his dreams, he had been searching for Eileen. Every time he'd thought he'd caught up with her, she'd leave through a different door. He was always two steps behind her.

He assumed it had something to do with the owls he was waiting to arrive. Waiting for owls from Switzerland was damned annoying. If it was a Muggle bank, he could have used the bloody phone.

In the meantime, Severus had more immediate troubles. He couldn't quite put his finger on what had woken him at first, but then he realized the stealthy sounds were Harry, moving around in the next room.

Severus picked up the fob watch from next to his wand and looked at the dial. Nowhere near either Mischief or Mortal Peril. That was a relief.

It was very early, not yet light. He considered going back to sleep, but he'd had enough sleep in the past month to last the next year, he thought. Instead he lay, listening the boy's early morning routine. Harry appeared to have all three types of insomia; he fell asleep late, woke up early and slept badly in between. That would explain the amount of after-hours wandering he'd done in the last two years at school.

He heard drawers opening and shutting, footsteps down the hall. The bathroom door opened and shut, and, after a moment, opened and shut again. Then, his son's footsteps down the stairs.

Merlin, where had that come from? Apparently, his subconscious was out to get him. Every night, Lily or James told him that he had the responsibility of caring for him. That the boy was his, Severus', son. Not just in blood, but in spirit, as well.

Severus sat up and hung his feet over the edge of the bed. Lying here in the dark, ruminating on what his dreams meant, wasn't going to get him anywhere. It was time to face the child.

Severus pulled on his dressing gown and slippers. The heat hadn't come on yet, and it was a bit chilly. A wave of his wand put a warming charm on his dressing gown.

He stopped at the top of the stairs. As usual, he could hear every word and sound from the kitchen. The pots and pans were rattling rather more loudly than usual.

"Not letting them cook for me again. I'm not trusting them as far as I can throw them." The child was saying resentfully. A slam followed, "Bloody git. And Lupin! He's worse. At least if Snape is a bastard, it's because he's always a bastard. I'm telling you, I have half a mind to pack up and..." he broke off. The dog whined.

"No Snuffles, get out of it. That's not your breakfast." He went on in a depressed voice. Another thump, "Well, it's not like I have anywhere to go."

This is going to be enjoyable, thought Severus, sarcastically.

The creaky fifth step announced the Professor's presence. The thumping and rattling in the kitchen stopped for a moment, then began again. The sound of running water and the peculiar little "poof" of the gas burner being turned on announced that the child had put the kettle on.

When Severus came into the kitchen, the boy was stood with his back to the room, cracking eggs into the pan.

"There'll be tea in a minute." Harry gritted.

The dog that was sitting beside his master, waiting hopefully for something to drop, looked at Snape and growled, low in his throat.

"Quiet, Snuffles." Snapped the boy. He really was out of sorts, if he was snapping at the dog.

Good.

That was much better than the apathy of the past few days. Severus had been afraid they were going to lose the child to his shock. It was rare, but wizards were capable of willing their own death. Longbottom's death had been largely a result of that, or so the autopsy had found. His magic had just stopped healing him, leaving him no more resilient than the average Muggle child.

Harry said nothing else. With the efficiency of long practice, he made the tea and cooked the breakfast. The pans rattling only a little as he worked.

He put the breakfast on the table quietly. Admirable restraint, considering Severus was sure he could hear the boy grinding his teeth.

They ate in silence. Severus did not feel like making the first move. Anyway, it appeared unnecessary. The boy was practically chewing his tongue to keep whatever he was thinking behind his teeth.

When they had finished, Harry cleared up the plates, clattering them into the sink. Turning his back, he hissed, "You drugged me."

"Don't be so melodramatic." Sighed Severus "It was a mild truth potion. Perfectly legal for use in children. You said nothing that you truly didn't want others to know."

For a minute, the child didn't say anything. He seemed absorbed in washing the dishes, but his body was tense and his movements sharp.

"Why would I want to talk about...about that?" He finally asked, his voice low and furious.

"That?" Severus prompted, gently.

"The Dursleys. How they were...How they kept me in...in..." Harry's voice trailed off, then he made a movement as though steeling himself. When he began again, Severus had to lean forward to hear the whisper, "Why would I want to talk about being locked up in a cupboard?"

Severus chose his words carefully, not wanting to cause him to either blow up or shut down again, "You have been making reference to that cupboard since I examined you. Whether you admit it or not, you do want to people to know." He spoke in that coaxing voice he often found himself using on Harry these days.

"There's nothing to talk about." Harry said, softly. He'd stopped washing the dishes. He leaned on his elbows, which rested on the edge of the sink, bowed his head, covering his face with his hands.

Severus felt the pressure of magic building up in the kitchen. The boy's wand growing warm in his pocket, next to his own. Severus realized that the young wizard hadn't once asked for his wand to be returned. Another symptom of his depression, Severus supposed.

Prompted by that inner urging that spoke with Lily's voice, Severus stood, walked closer to the boy. Cautiously, he put one hand Harry's shoulder.

Predictably, Harry flinched away from the hand. No wonder Hagrid was so close to the child; dealing with Harry was a bit like handling one of the gamekeeper's baby monsters.

Severus examined that thought, realizing that it was an apt comparison. All the behavior he'd been taking as defiant and arrogant for the last two years, and what the other teachers had been seeing as proof that the boy took after James, came into focus. The child was almost feral. If he went his own way, it was because there was no one to tell him different.

He reached out again, very slowly, keeping in mind the analogy. The shoulder trembled under his hand. The magic moving about the room began to rattle the dishes in the cupboard and on the shelves. The professor gently turned the child around.

Harry's eyes were tearless, although very red. He stared up at the adult wizard with an unreadable, frighteningly impassive expression.

"It doesn't matter." he said, dully, "It's not like I'm a normal person." His green eyes were flat, with deep circles under them

Severus wondered if that truth potion could still be active. No, even in double doses, it would only last an hour. Therefore, as he had hoped, that little bit of truth from last night had opened some kind of gate. He'd seen it in students before, and he remembered well, how it had felt. After he had joined Dumbledore, Poppy had been the one to make him face truths about his own life. She'd recommended he see an actual mind healer, but he could never bear to.

"You are a perfectly normal wizard child." Severus told Harry sternly, "I want you to stop saying that."

The magic moving about the room spiked. The mugs on the draining board shattered, "WHY?" Harry shouted back, "It's what everybody thinks!" He backed up quickly, stumbling over the dog, who was behind him. Belying his claim of being clumsy, Harry recovered quickly. He skipped back two steps, until he met the wall. He set his back against the back door, looking cornered.

"Sorry." Harry whispered, looking at the shattered crockery. He was, again, disproportionately stricken over the bout of accidental magic. He'd gone that pale color that presaged one of his panic attacks. His trembling became pronounced.

Severus frowned, "Perhaps it would be better if you picked that up." Hoping that distraction would head it off.

Harry lifted his eyes to meet Severus' gaze, biting his lip. He moved toward Severus slowly, his right hand half raised, palm out between them, ready to protect his face. Internally, Severus sighed, they were going to have to get over this.

Impatiently, Severus reached into the pocket of his robe. Harry froze, his eyes wide, that hand going up, expecting Severus to cast something deeply unpleasant on him.

"I think it would be better if you used your wand for that." More slowly, the professor drew it from the pocket where he kept it next to his own, holding it out to the boy.

Harry reached out his shaking hand, looking furtively from beneath his fringe, "But...I'm not supposed to use magic outside of school." he said shakily, when he wrapped his hand around the handle of the wand.

"I think, in this particular instance, you'd better off if you did."

"Sorry?" the child's eyes narrowed, expecting a trick, "I got a warning last year, for using a hover charm that I didn't even cast."

"Yes, so clearly it's not as though the Ministry can tell who's doing the casting." Returned Severus, "I just feel that your magic might be better behaved if you direct it, rather than trying to suppress it, as you have been."

"I...oh." Harry blinked, "Erm..." he gave a tentative little wave of the wand and muttered, "Reparo." Obediently, the crockery returned to its normal state. Magic stopped moving so tensely through the room, looking for an outlet.

"Harry, come sit down. Please." Severus took his own chair back.

The young wizard stood there, staring at his teacher, then he shook himself and came to sit back at the table, "I suppose you want my wand back." He said, sounding defeated.

Severus refused to allow the child to sink into his apathy again, "No. Actually, I think it would be a good thing if it were returned to you. I just need you to promise me something."

The wariness came back into the boy's face, "What?" he asked, suspiciously.

"I..." The potion master hesitated, unconciously squeezing his left forearm with his other hand, "I need you to swear to me that you'll come to me, before you ever do something like you did the other night." he stared straight into the Gryffindor's eyes, a little Legillimency would ensure he'd know the truth or falsehood of the boy's next words.

"I already told Lupin" Harry whispered, "I won't...won't do anything stupid, while I'm here." His eyes were still fey and flat.

Harry hadn't answered the question, but that was no matter. Severus incanted Legilimens silently; a quick dip into the boy's mind, just enough to take in the surface images.

The Astronomy Tower still figured prominently, but it seemed that, for the moment, the child wasn't planning on doing injury to himself.

"Fair enough." Severus grunted. He'd take what he could get. Now, he was at a complete loss as to where to go next with the conversation, but he knew, now that he had gotten Harry speaking, that there were some things they had to discuss.

Harry didn't need to be drawn out that much, fortunately, "Why do you care?" he asked, softly.

"Care about what?" Severus asked, in a neutral tone.

"About the Dursleys. Nobody else ever has." He dropped his eyes back to his hands. They were laced together so tightly that Severus could see the knuckles turning white. The thumbnail of the right hand was digging into the left, a gesture that was habitual, if the new scratches Severus could see at the base of the boy's thumb were anything to go by.

Gently, Severus reached across the table to put both of his hands on the boy's. That made Harry look up. Severus carefully pulled the hands apart, pushed them to lie palm down on the table, with his own covering them, "I care, because it is my job to care." He held the boy's gaze while he said this.

You can do this, said the voice in Severus' head that sounded like Lily.

Severus took a long breath, hoping that his carefully planned speech would work as he wanted it to, "I...must confess to you..." he hesitated.

Lupin had told Severus, "Just tell him. It will be much worse if he finds out on his own."

Severus didn't believe it was that simple. He opted for a carefully edited version of the truth, "Your mother...before she died, she knew that she and her husband were being...targeted...by the Dark Lord."

Harry stared at him, confusion written all over his face, not sure what that had to do with anything, but too startled to pull his hands away.

"She asked me to look after you, if something should happen to her."

Harry didn't move, except to clench his hands into fists.

"Your mother's Muggle solicitor informs me that I was named as your guardian in her will that she left with him." That much was true. The letter that Severus had shown Lupin two months ago had been from Lily, asking him to look after Harry. What he hadn't shown Lupin was the business card of Lily's solicitor. A solicitor who had sent the details of Harry's Muggle trust and a copy of the assignment of parental responsibility naming Severus. One of the school owls had brought it to Spinner's End, two days after their dinner with Mrs. Cook.

Severus had written to inform the solicitor that Harry's circumstances had changed, back in September. The solicitor had replied with a note explaining that he'd tried to find Severus after Lily and James' death, since he was officially named the child's guardian in Lily's will. The solicitor had assumed that Severus had made informal agreement with Petunia, saying it had seemed quite the normal thing, given that Severus had been a single man without other children. In the Muggle world, Severus had always had legal authority over Harry's welfare.

The former Death-Eater-turned-spy didn't know what to make of that. He just knew that he hadn't felt this weight of guilt since he'd held Lily's lifeless body in his arms.

That was a bitter memory. For the first time in many years, last night, Severus had picked the memory out of the jar he kept it in. He'd viewed it in a Pensieve soon after Lily's death, so that he would only remember it second hand, the way one remembered a film. The true memory, with its attendant emotions, he kept bottled up, in case he should ever need it. Last night, He'd taken the memory back into his own mind.

He remembered now. He remembered, far too clearly: he had ignored the squalling child in the crib. His squalling child. And, why? At the time, he had only seen the child as the mechanism for Lily's death. Severus had lifted Lily's cooling body and sat up against the one remaining wall with her head in his lap.

Only moments later, Hagrid had turned up. He hadn't spoken to Severus, merely patted him on the shoulder in rough sympathy. Hagrid had always understood Severus better than most. Words would have only thrown him into a rage.

The enormous man had picked up the baby. He had been almost able to hold Harry in one hand. Severus had heard Hagrid speaking in soft tones, "What's that on yer forehead, then? Poor, little mite."

As Hagrid was leaving, he said, "Dumbledore'll be here in a minute." He said over the wails of the child, "Will you..." Hagrid sobbed once, then forced it back down, wiping his face in the shoulder of his coat, since his hands were full, "Will yer stay with 'er? 'Till 'e gets 'ere?"

Severus had nodded vacantly. For the moment, he had been out of tears.

That was the point he should have told Hagrid that Lily had wanted him to take Harry. That was when he should have told Dumbledore about his relationship to Harry.

But, he hadn't.

In the eyes of the Wizengamot, a Muggle document would not have trumped Petunia's blood rights. Especially with Dumbledore making the recommendation that Harry go to his blood family.

But, Severus being the boy's biological father would have. He decided he didn't need to tell Harry those details.

The child was staring at him out of baffled green eyes, "So, what does that mean?" the question bringing Severus back to the present.

"It means that...I..." Severus faltered, a lump in his throat, "The...ahh...reason I could change your guardianship without Ministry involvement was that I had always had the right to do so."

Harry withdrew his hands and Severus let him.

"So...you sent me to live with the Dursleys?" he whispered. His breathing was rapid again. Another incipient panic attack

Severus wanted to offer the boy a calming draught, but he was sure, after last night, he wouldn't take it, "No. That was indeed Dumbledore. And, like the rest of the Wizarding World, I placed too much trust in blood."

"But...why didn't anyone...?" the child whispered.

"Check on you?" Severus finished the thought for him, "Frankly, because Petunia asked us not to. One of her conditions for taking you were that we not bother her. And...and Lily had loved Petunia. I never entertained the thought that her love was undeserved. Or, that someone could change that radically. Your grandparents were always kind people...I never thought a daughter of theirs was capable..." Over the last few days, Severus had come to the conclusion that Petunia didn't consider Wizards quite human. She must have justified her treatment of Harry by telling herself that he didn't have feelings as acute as a normal boy.

"You bastard." Harry said it quietly. His shaking had increased and he picked up the wand from where he'd laid it on the table.

Severus sincerely hoped the child didn't hex him. He'd have to give consequences for that. He could overlook the language, under the circumstances, but...

The Lily-voice in his head told him to get his head out of his arse.

The boy stood, put the wand in his back pocket. His green eyes were vivid against his pale cheeks. The mugs shattered again, along with the dishes in the cupboard.

The dog, whom Severus had forgotten about, whined, nosing at the child's hand.

"You treated me like shite for two years." Harry ignored the dog. He planted his feet and clenched his fists, ready for a fight, "You let Dumbledore send me back to the Dursleys. You haven't given a damn about me, all this time. What's different now?" for all that the boy's body was shaking with anger, his voice was still low.

The kettle started whistling. Severus pulled out his wand and shut the noise up. He cast a quick magic cancellation spell and the kitchen became silent. If he and Harry were going to be here long, Severus would have to ask Molly about a permanent accidental magic dampening spell.

"You want to know how the Dursleys treated me?" Harry snapped, not taking any notice of Severus' wand, "I didn't know my own name until I went to school. I thought my name was Freak. Or Whelp. Or Boy. Petunia only ever called me Harry when she had to put on a show for someone. Everyone thought the Dursleys were so bloody respectable! They used to tell people I was mental. That was why they always left me with Mrs. Fig when they went on holiday. Or when they took Dudley anywhere."

At least he was talking, thought Severus wryly. He wasn't sure he wan't to deal with all of Harry's anger, but he'd been the one to let the djinn out of the bottle.

"They told me my father was a drunk and my mother was a slag. They locked me up, most of the time in the dark. They hit me if I cried, or talked too loud, or burnt the breakfast, or did better at school than Dudley or BREATHED WRONG!" Harry's voice started to rise towards a shout, "Everyone thought it was all right the night the Minister took me back. He TOLD THEM I needed to be taken in hand. He said that the Dursleys had been doing the RIGHT THING. HE TOLD THEM DUMBLEDORE RECKONED THE DURSLEYS DID A GOOD JOB WITH ME." he paused for breath, "I TOLD HIM THEY WERE GOING TO BEAT THE SHITE OUT OF ME. HE TOLD ME NOT TO EXAGGERATE." the boy was panting, nearly hyperventilating now, "AND THEN NEVILLE DIES AND EVERYONE'S ALL FREAKED OUT. AND IT DOESN'T CHANGE ANYTHING. AND NEVILLE'S STILL..."

At the mention of Longbottom, Harry's anger crumbled. His shouting trailed off into sobs. He covered his face with his hands, "I wish it were me, instead." he sounded furious, even through his crying.

Severus stood, unsure whether he should go to the child, or not. His problem was solved when Harry fled past him, thumping up the stairs, the dog in tow.

"That went well." Muttered Severus to himself.

He knew he dare not leave the child for too long. He put the fob watch on the table, so he could keep an eye on it, and fortified himself with a cup of tea.