Harry dreamed that something had caught him in its clutches and was refusing to let him go. It hurt and he tried to squirm away from it, but he couldn't because he was connected to it; it was touching him; it had hooked him like a fish, and now the sharp edge was digging into his backside, threatening to gut him.

He cried and thrashed in his sleep, but couldn't seem to wake, and Severus and Hadwyn were forced to watch stoically on as he suffered from his dreams. Snitch, on the other hand, now
refused to let him go, and hung on stubbornly despite Harry's jerking limbs.

Severus thought about what he knew of the boy and what would happen to the child if he didn't make a decision soon. Harry would fall apart without someone there to constantly be by his side, holding him up, and although it surprised him to realise such a thing, Severus really wasn't all that reluctant to take on such a role.

Most importantly, it wasn't as though they could just go back to the way things were before. That thought stopped him in his tracks and he paused to consider the full extent of it. For instance, now that his thoughts had identified the crux of the matter at hand, he was able to understand the Granger girl's side of things. She didn't—or wouldn't—understand that Harry was not the same boy he had been beforehand. In fact, Severus was no longer certain that Harry had ever been the boy that he had presented to the outside world as.

Harry still hadn't woken up, and though he was loath to do such a thing, it seemed that he would have to cajole the child's familiar to eat something from his hand. Hadwyn had been very clear that Harry would be the only one capable of feeding Snitch, but after catching the tiny furry creature sucking on the boy's fingertips—yet again, Severus was able to make his decision.

He put together the mixture of milk and fruit juice into the bottle the creature had eaten from before and then he tried the insurmountable task of removing a magical pygmy loris from its Keeper against its will.

After three attempts that left him nursing various bites and one ruined shirt—who knew the little thing could produce flames when provoked?—he finally tried a different approach. He supposed that Hadwyn would have been full of idiotic suggestions for Severus to try, but thankfully the man was asleep and he was left to make his own foolish blunders.

So it was with a sigh of resignation that he finally climbed into the bed with Harry and Snitch. The small furry creature watched him with wariness, but he didn't reach for him again. Instead, he pulled the boy up into his lap, against his chest and cradled him in his arms. With Harry came Snitch, and he surreptitiously avoided looking at the curious little animal as he began gently rocking the boy.

"This was my boy first," Severus said when he finally spoke, receiving a tiny squeak for his efforts. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the magical pygmy loris patting Harry's hand, and then his arms as he climbed slowly closer towards Severus.

"Harry trusts me," Severus then added a moment later. "He said so himself. You were even there." Severus felt a bit ridiculous for talking so seriously to something fluffy, winged and the size of a kitten, but he tried to keep to keep that from showing on his face and out of his voice. After all, Hadwyn had said that they were very intelligent animals, so what was there to lose by trying this approach?

This time, Snitch made a squeak that had a definite questioning sound to it.

"I put together your bottle then and I did it again now," Severus said, lifting the hidden bottle from behind him and placing it in Harry's hand with a sticking charm. "We can both pretend he's the one feeding you, can't we?" He asked, raising an eyebrow and finally looking at Snitch straight on.

More squeaks were his response.

"You won't be in any kind of condition to help him if you're underfed," Severus finally said, presenting the bottle in Harry's hand once more, his hand holding it out for the unconscious child.
He looked away, not wanting to make the little creature more nervous than it already was. A moment passed and then he could feel their hands being manipulated around, and suddenly he could hear the clear sounds of sucking, and he let himself breathe a sigh of relief.

Thank Merlin, Harry hadn't been forced to lose Snitch too. He didn't think they would have been able to weather that storm; especially not now, after the latest flashback that had occurred.

. . .

It was another day before Harry finally opened his eyes again. He was worn out; almost as though he had just pulled an all nighter, followed by a long hard game of Quidditch.

The first thing he was aware of was a small fuzzy creature pressed up against his chest, just under his chin and he smiled as he realized what it was.

"Snitch?" He whispered and then jerked in surprise as large purple eyes shot upwards from his chin and settled not two inches from the tip of his nose.

"Did you miss me?"

A tiny tongue licking his nose was his answer and in spite of everything, he giggled at the feeling.

"Welcome back, Harry," a deep voice made itself known from beside his bed and he looked up blindly into the dimness for the source.

Moments later, his glasses were back on his face and room was lit with a soft glow, illuminating Snape's tired face.

"Are you okay?" They both asked at the same time, causing another presence from just beyond the doorway to begin laughing.

"Hadwyn, this is not the time," Professor Snape growled back, although there was a slight smile showing on his face, just for Harry it seemed.

"Why would I be anything but okay, child?" Snape asked gently, brushing a hand over Harry's forehead.

"You look tired," he admitted, a yawn cracking his face as the simple touch soothed him. "Didn't you sleep any?"

"And miss out on your return to wakefulness?" Snape scoffed. "No, I did not, Harry," he clarified a second later, his calloused hand still stroking Harry's hair.

"But why?" He asked in confusion, feeling his eyes droop again as real sleep tried to summon him down.

"Because I care for you, silly boy," were Snape's last words before unconsciousness claimed him again.

. . .

The next time he woke up, he felt much more rested than he had before.

"Are you feeling better now?" Snape's voice asked, making him blink hard as he struggled to sit up.

"Yes, sir," he answered, shaking his head muzzily in an attempt to get rid of the cobwebs. After retrieving his glasses from his professor, the man helped him become upright, shoving several pillows behind his back as he did.

"Here," Snape said, handing him a bottle that had Snitch squeaking appreciatively at. "I fed him once while you were . . . indisposed. I will not be repeating that effort if I can at all help it."

"Too cute for you?" Harry grinned a bit cheekily, not daring to actually look his professor in the eye with his words.

Snape sighed and he had a sense that the man was crossing his legs beside him. "Cute I can handle, but that creature is not merely cute when its ire is raised. It bit and clawed at me and then began hurling balls of flame at me."

Harry looked up from where Snitch was happily sucking on his bottle, his mouth open in surprise.
"Balls of flame, sir?"

"I do believe you owe me a new shirt," Snape said with a smirk.

"I'm sorry, sir," Harry answered meekly, dropping his head to look at his creature's wide purple eyes.

"I think I will merely be pleased to know that you are getting better, Harry," the man said gently after a pause. "It seems to me that you need a change of venue, and going away from Hogwarts will suffice."

Harry's blood rang cold in his ears as Snape's words settled in his chest. "You're sending me to the Dursleys?" He asked, his lower lip quivering and everything around him forgotten.

"Blast it, no Harry! Look at me, child," the bed dipped and there was Snape, pulling him up to rest against him, arms locked around him safely. "No, we will go somewhere together; you, me and your little ball of fuzz."

Blood was once again pulsing in his ears and Harry could feel his lungs moving in an out against Snape's strong arms. "Sorry sir, for overreacting," he managed to say weakly after a moment.

"I should have been clearer. It is I that is sorry, Harry."

Snape sounded so contrite that Harry couldn't help but look up at him. "Are you angry at me sir?"

"Whatever for?"

"For freaking out," he whispered. In his lap, Snitch pushed the bottle out of his way and climbed up into his arms, wrapping a wing around his shoulder and falling asleep with his little claws embedded in Harry's shirt. "For being," he gulped as his tears tried to come back, "indisposed and leaving you to take care of Snitch for me."

"Harry hush," Snape answered instead, pulling him into his lap proper and patting his back softly.

"I can't do anything right lately sir, I'm sorry. I don't know why I can't stop crying. I'm like a little baby or something. I know you're probably tired of me!" Harry cried, his tears leaking out of his eyes as he curled up against Snape's warm chest. He really did feel like a baby, but he for all he said to make Snape let go of him, he resisted by holding on just that much tighter.

"Shh, child, shh," Snape whispered into his ears, holding him carefully and tucking his head under his chin like Snitch had done on his chest.

"Little Harry," his professor said at last with a mournful sigh.

"I know. I know. I'm thirteen. I'm nearly an adult. I should be taking better care of myself!" He said, his shoulders shuddering morosely.

"But you can't, can you?" Snape whispered softly into his ear.

Miserably, Harry shook his head "no." He hiccupped and then felt Snape's hand on his back again, gently rubbing his tightened muscles.

"There was a time when I would never have thought that I would care what happened to you, Harry."

Harry nodded vigorously. It was how the other adults in his life felt. He certainly understood the sensation of being pushed aside for their more important concerns.

"And I wish that something different could have happened to make me understand."

"Understand what sir?" He bravely asked, pushing off Snape's chest to stare blurrily through his tears at the man's face.

"You need someone to take responsibility for you, Harry," Snape answered slowly, pulling a handkerchief out of his robes and wiping it gently over his face. "You need someone to rely on; someone who cares about your best interests, and will be there to pick you up when you fall down."

"That sounds like a parent, sir. And I haven't got any of those, because no one else wanted me, sir," Harry gulped miserably.

Snape pursed his lips in annoyance at his words, before speaking his next surprising revelation. "I've had quite a bit of time to think these last few days, Harry."

"About what, sir?"

Snape sighed and then straightened his back. "I want you, Harry. I'm willing to be your guardian—or even parent—if you'll have me."

In turn, Harry blinked in surprise at the man's words, completely unable to formulate a response.