Harry looked up at Sam briefly from his spot on the floor, feeling defeated. He was uncertain and felt like his emotions were betraying him. Harry wasn't even sure why he was feeling so... unsettled. No, he did not want to go to an orphanage, and so he had run, but in truth he knew it was more than that, he just wasn't sure what. There was that unexpected truth again, knocking at his brain waiting to be let out.

"Back to the Dursleys," he said quietly, hand tangled in his hair.

"I thought you said they left."

"I just sat in the empty house."

"It was a couple of days," Sam said. "Professor Snape dropped me here and then went back out for you. Mum was having a fit."

"Yeah," Harry said. "I reckon she'll be coming up telling me to leave soon."

"Leave? She was having a fit over you still being missing."

Harry frowned. Why would she care? He wasn't officially in Joanna's charge, he was just by a happy circumstance there rather than in jail or at the Dursleys for the summer.

"She knew she could find me eventually, but she had no idea where to look for you. Good thing Snape knew where to look."

With a heavy sigh, Harry pulled his hand down over his face. "I think I just wanna go to bed," he said.

Sam stared at him for a moment, obviously wanting to talk more about this, but nodded. "Ok," he said. He watched as Harry lay down on his cot and rolled over so that his back was to him. Harry was aware that he was being watched, but didn't care. He didn't really want to go to sleep (well he sort of did because he was emotionally exhausted), but really he wanted to think about the emotions that kept trying to rise up in him.

When Snape had come for him... found him alone at the Dursleys, Harry had felt panicked, but also relieved. He understood the panic. He didn't want to be hauled off to some orphanage. But relief he was still struggling with. Why was he relieved? As Harry drifted off to sleep, he felt the answer came to him, though he still wasn't sure what to make of it. He was relieved that Snape had come for him. He was the only one who ever did, be it to the jail, the side of the road, or back to a lonely house that still left a gaping hole in Harry's heart. Why was it that Snape kept coming for him? Those were times he'd come for Harry, not Sam... just Harry.

* * *

Sam sighed, drawing Harry's attention over to him. He'd just sat up in bed feeling groggy, but Sam was already up and putting on a dirty tan vest and blue baseball cap.

"Where are you going?"

"Fishing," Sam said in a tone that said he wasn't happy about it. "Mum's making me. I guess I'll be back by lunch though."

"She's making you?"

"Snape asked me last night after you went to bed. There's a creek not far from here." He paused and put his hands on his hips. "Just me and Snape... all day. All... friggen... day."

Harry stared at him blankly. He was getting to go fishing. What was there to complain about? Harry had never been fishing before. Uncle Vernon took Dudley once a week all summer, but Harry was always made to stay back and do chores.

"Well, wish me luck, eh?"

Harry threw his hand up and gave a still wave. "Luck," Harry said, not feeling in the mood to put up with Sam's complaining this morning and thinking that perhaps it was a good thing that his friend would be gone until lunch, although a part of him longed to go.

"Ok, I better go. Mum will still be here. I think she's downstairs cooking breakfast for you."

"Bye Harry said."

Sam gave another sigh as he faced the closed bedroom door, as if bracing himself and yet resigning himself to a difficult day, and then disappeared into the hallway.

Harry waited until he heard the front door close, and then got up and crossed the hall to the bathroom to take a shower. He felt grimy after not showering for the few days he'd been on the run. Once he was in the shower, Harry didn't want to get out because it felt like a good solitary place for him to mull things over, but he knew that Jo would probably be waiting for him downstairs. It might be awkward being there with someone else's mom by himself, he thought, but steeled himself for the day as he got dressed, and made his way downstairs.

"Good morning Harry," Jo said brightly. "Sleep ok?"

"Ok," Harry conceded. He did sleep, but he didn't know if he slept well or not. His strange emotions had followed him into his dreams where in a bizarre turn of events, Snape actually cared for him. Something that would never happen, he mused, even if the truth was knocking on his brain again telling him that it was a nice enough dream.

"I've made you some bacon and eggs," she said, pointing to the kitchen island. Steam was still rising off of it.

"Thanks." Harry sat down and tried to keep his head down as he ate. Sam had only run away because of him, and Harry was sure that as Snape's future wife, Jo would be taking his side by now in all of this, and would be angry at Harry, even though he hadn't forced Sam to go.

After Harry had eaten as much as he could stomach, (which wasn't much), he helped Jo clean the breakfast dishes, and asked her if it would be all right if he went up to his room to do some more summer homework. Apparently his bag had been retrieved from Sam's cousin's house sometime after he'd left it there in his mad dash for freedom.

Upstairs, Harry didn't pull his homework out, or any of his books. He simply sat on his cot with one foot up so he could put his chin on his knee. What must it be like to have someone falling over themselves to get to know you like Snape was doing to Sam? Must be nice, that was for certain. Harry never saw Sam getting into any trouble with Snape, and it was obvious that if it came to Harry or Sam, then Sam was Snape's priority. He had after all gone after Sam when they'd run away hadn't he?

Harry put his forehead down on his knee and closed his eyes. It didn't seem to matter where he was, he decided, because he was alone wherever he was, and there was nothing more disheartening than knowing a thing like that. At the Dursleys he was rebuked and reviled, tortured even, not to mention neglected. No, there was no one to understand him there, or to care to. At Hogwarts Ron and Hermione tried, and Ginny... Ginny always made an effort to be there with him in time of need, but he was in need now and couldn't go to stay with them because he wasn't really a part of their family either. Blood would win out every time he decided, and even then sometimes it didn't. To the Dursleys he hadn't been blood, but street trash dumped on their doorstep.

What was he here? A guest he guessed. Jo and Sam were nice enough, but Snape was always there breathing down his neck, just waiting for him to do something wrong. He had told Harry that he wouldn't take him to an orphanage, but it didn't really matter, because the man's want to do so was still there. No, Harry was alone in this place too, even though he didn't want to be. Orphanage or not, he was an orphan, and he was beginning to become resided to the fate that as an orphan, he would always be on his own.

Just as Harry was about to doze off with his head against his knee, feeling depressed, there was a knock on the bedroom door, and then it opened to reveal Jo.

"Am I disturbing you Harry?"

Harry looked up and shook his head mutely.

"Can I come in?"

Harry shrugged. It was her house, he reasoned. It wasn't for him to say where she could and couldn't go.

"Harry, can I ask you a question?"

"Yes," he said very quietly.

Jo sat down on the edge of Sam's bed, facing Harry's cot across the room.

"Why did you run away?"

"Professor Snape didn't tell you?"

"No. As I've come to find out, he's a private man trying to live in a very public house. He tends to keep things to himself until he feels good and ready to talk about it."

"Oh," Harry said. Sounded familiar, although in his case he didn't talk to people because there was no one to talk to.

"Was it because of something I did?"

Harry's head snapped up. No! How could she think that?

"No maam," he said. "I... I..." he faltered. He didn't feel like discussing it with her. Damn, maybe he was more like Snape than he liked to admit.

"I know it's not an ideal situation for you Harry... being in an unfamiliar place, especially after what your family did. I just want you to know that while you're here this is your home too, and I want you to be comfortable here."

Harry nodded slowly. "Thanks," he said.

Jo looked around the room and saw that none of Harry's homework was out.

"You just wanted some time to think, didn't you?"

Biting his lip, Harry shrugged.

"Well, I didn't mean to intrude on your alone time Harry. Severus and Sam should be back soon. They just went to the creek at the edge of town."

She stood to leave, but before she could make it to the door, Harry reached out his hand and said, "Wait."

Jo turned to look at him, sitting there with a desperate look in his eyes.

"Sorry," Harry said. It was an impulsive move to ask her to wait, and now he had no idea what to say to her next. He didn't want to talk to her anymore, but he also didn't want to be alone. His sour mood that morning had migrated to depression.

After a moment without Harry saying anything, Jo took a step forward and knelt down in front of Harry, looking him in the eyes, before she sat down on his cot next to him and folded her hands in her lap.

Harry was acutely uncomfortable. What did he do now? Was he obligated to talk to her? He didn't know, but she seemed content to wait for him to be ready, which he wasn't by the time they heard the front door open an hour later.

As Jo put her hand on the back of Harry's head and gave him a smile as she stood up, Harry thought, ‘if my mum were still alive, she'd be just like Jo.' He watched her retreating back, and felt alone again in her absence.

* * *

"How was it?" Harry asked as Sam came into the room covered in mud. It looked like he'd had fun, even though he wasn't smiling.

"It was boring," Sam said. "He tried to make small talk. Tried telling me how much he loves my mum and all that. I liked the fishing part."

"Oh," Harry said. "You were gone for like, five hours."

"It was a long five hours."

Harry ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to keep quiet. Sam was really starting to get on his nerves. He acted like having someone wanting to be your father was an imposition rather than a gift. Harry didn't know how Sam's dad had died, but he thought Sam would have been grateful to have someone nice coming to fill the position. No, Snape wasn't nice to Harry, but he was to Sam and Jo. They made a nice family.

"Want to go ride bikes?"

Harry's attention was drawn back to Sam, who had changed into clean clothing now.

"I guess. I've been in here all day."

"What about my mum? What did she do all day?"

Harry froze. What did he tell him? That his mum had spent an hour and a half sitting on his cot with him in silence?

"Don't know," Harry lied. "I saw her at breakfast but then I came upstairs to do homework.

Sam shrugged. "Let's go then. I think Avery has Lacrosse practice right now, so the sports park should be free."

Harry followed, hoping his mood would get better as the day wore on. He couldn't guess that his day would only get worse.

They were out until dinner time, at which point Harry and Sam returned back to the house, where Jo had decided to go out and get Chinese takeout to bring back for dinner. Sam wanted to go so he could choose some of the dishes, leaving Harry and Snape by themselves. Thinking that Snape would rather that Harry just go up to Sam's room for the twenty minutes that Jo and Sam would be gone, Harry ascended the stairs quietly. Before turning to go to Sam's room however, he saw that there were crumbs on the hallway floor, possibly where Sam had eaten a muffin he'd grabbed when they'd gotten back. He knew that down the hall there was a broom closet, and decided that since Jo had done him a kindness that day, he would clean up the mess for her.

Harry jiggled the handle of the broom closet several times, knowing that there was no lock on it but not understanding why it wasn't opening for him. Sam had said they didn't like to use charms on their house since Sam's dad had been a Muggle, so there shouldn't have been any sort of charm on the door.

Finally Harry jiggled the handle in just the right way, and the door swung open. The broom was at the back of the closet sitting inside of a mop bucket. Harry took two steps inside, and as he reached for the broom, his elbow hit the mop handle and it swung back behind him, somehow nudging the door just enough to make it swing closed again.

"Great," Harry muttered. He reached for the handle, but no matter how much he jiggled, it appeared that it wasn't going to budge.

Without his wand, Harry felt very trapped. The closet was barely wide enough for him to walk into without his elbows touching the walls, and it reminded him uncomfortably of another closet in another house, where he had spent hours on end trapped and crying, begging to be let out.

Downstairs, Severus heard a thud directly above him. His eyes climbed to the ceiling. The only one up there was Potter. Perhaps he'd just dropped a book or something. He waited the space of ten seconds and was just about to return to his book, when there was another thud, followed by a crashing sound and several loud bangs.

What on earth? What could he be doing up there? Trashing Sam's room? Severus dropped his book on the couch and ran up the stairs, but Sam's room was empty, and the increasingly loud sounds of something terrible were coming from just down the hall.

Outside the broom closet, he wondered what Harry was doing inside, although as he listened he could hear pants and what sounded like the boy was panicking as he tried to claw his way out.

"Potter?" The banging and crashing only intensified.

Severus reached into his wand sleeve for his wand and cursed. It was downstairs on the end table.

He jiggled the handle from the outside several times to no avail, before calling through the door and the ruckus, "Potter! I'm going downstairs to get my wand, and then I'll be back to get you out."

What emanated from the inside of the room sounded like Potter was being murdered because he was howling so loud. "Noooooooooooooo!" It was a piteous sound like he had been mortally wounded.

With a renewed sense of urgency, Severus jiggled the handle several times, before deciding that the only course of action was to physically force the door open. Without giving the teen inside any warning, he backed up as far as he could across the hall, and then rammed his shoulder into the wood door. The door cracked, but it was still not enough to get the door open. He backed up and tried it again, and then with a third painful ram into the door, it cracked and fell in on itself, revealing the broom closet in shambles, and Potter not much better.

Hair a mess, face red, and tears streaming down his face, Harry scrambled over the remains of the door and out into the hallway. He was shaking.

"Potter - what?"

Harry ran his hands up and down his shoulders several times as if he were cold, staring at the broken down door and then up to his confused Potions Professor.

Breathing heavily for a few moments, Harry finally able to speak said in as nonchalant of a manner as he could, "Er... thanks. For the door I mean."

"What happened?" Severus seemed wary of the boy's reaction to being stuck inside the closet.

"Went in for a broom and got stuck."

"Are you injured?"

Harry shook his head vigorously. His pride maybe, he thought. He had managed to make his hands stop shaking now, but inside he still felt weak and shaky.

Severus was going to ask another question, but just then they heard the front door open and Jo calling up to them to come get the food before it went cold.

Giving another long look at Potter, who was determinedly looking at the ground as he held his shoulder, Severus stepped past him and went down the stairs, returning a minute later with his wand, where Harry watched him repair the door and set the broom closet back into a proper state.

Again Severus gave Harry a looking over, uncertain if the boy was all right, but Jo was calling up the stairs to them again, and he nodded with his head for Harry to go downstairs. At least for dinner, he could keep his eye on the child, trouble that he was.

Sam tried to engage Harry in a conversation about Quidditch over dinner, but Harry was quiet. Snape was quiet too, and Jo gave him a questioning look that Harry didn't miss, but Snape didn't say anything. Maybe he wouldn't? He had repaired the door after all.

"Come on Harry. My new Quidditch magazine just came by owl with the evening post. It dropped it on my head as I came in the door." Harry turned and gave a look to Snape, who looked contemplative, but the man didn't return his gaze, and Harry followed Sam up the stairs.

"Snape doesn't like Quidditch you know," Sam said after laying on his bed on his back for a few minutes perusing the magazine. He'd been reading the headlines off to Harry and then giving him a run down of any important information there might be in each article, unaware that Harry wasn't paying much attention. At the mention of Snape however, Harry rolled his head from where he lay on his back on his cot, to look at Sam.

"Huh?"

"He hates it I think. Mum says he played for Slytherin one year, but I don't believe it. He tries to get me to talk about it but why would I if he hates it?"

"Hm." Harry grunted in response, the only thing he could think to do. He really wasn't in the mood to hear Sam complaining again.

"It's just one thing after another with him. Go fishing with me Sam. Talk to me about Quidditch Sam. Let's go look at new brooms on Diagonalley Sam. Do you want to go for ice cream with your mother and I Sam?" He closed the magazine and tossed it onto his bed, sitting up.

"You'd think he'd get the hint by now that I don't want anything to do with him. He can date my mum, but that's their business. You know?"

Harry rolled his eyes then and said, "No. Not really."

"Excuse me?"

"No, I don't know," Harry said.

"What do you mean? He's a git, you know that. He's always giving you detention."

"But not you," Harry said, sitting up on his cot now too. "He's nice to you."

"That doesn't make a difference."

"Yes it does!" Harry was feeling emotional again all of a sudden, and he didn't know why until the next words left his mouth.

"At least you have a chance at having a mum and dad, so just shut up about it already. He's not perfect, but at least he's trying! You don't see me complaining about something like that, because oh, let's see, nobody's ever tried to be my dad before. I never even got to know my dad or my mum, and here you are complaining about yours. So please, spare me, because I don't have the luxury like you do.

Harry angrily lay back down on his cot and turned his back to Sam, who just sat there feeling like he'd just been unexpectedly stung by a butterfly.

On the other side of Sam and Harry's closed door, they had no idea that a particular Potions Master was feeling confused at the conversation he'd just been eavesdropping on. The more he'd had to deal with Potter this summer, the more the boy was becoming a mystery wrapped in a riddle. Had the boy really just defended him? He understood Sam's reluctance to have his father replaced, but Harry... the son of James Potter, had just alluded to wanting the same chance that Sam was taking advantage of. How isolated and alone he must be feeling to want a new father... to allude to wanting Severus Snape as a new father. The son of James Potter... the orphan of James Potter.