Harry woke up slowly. He blinked into the waning darkness surrounding him and yawned. He was laying on something soft and warm; something that seemed familiar and smelled faintly of spice and wood smoke.

Snape, his brain helpfully provided.

Wiping a hand over his face, a memory flashed in his head for a brief moment before disappearing back behind the blank wall of his mind. Shaking his head, he turned towards Snape.

Severus, you mean, his brain clarified.

Why was he sleeping in Snape—er, Severus' bed? Or was Severus sleeping in his? That had happened before when his nightmares had been particularly bad. Had he had nightmares the previous night?

Something fuzzy touched his face and he looked down into the wide bulbous eyes of Snitch.

"Hi," he whispered, brushing a kiss over its soft head.

Little arms reached up and a wing readjusted itself over the back of his head as the creature pulled itself farther up into his line of vision. Snitch let out a quiet squeak and then rubbed the side of his head against Harry's chin.

"Where are we?" Harry whispered to his friend, not expecting any sort of answer.

Suddenly the body under his shifted and an arm moved around his shoulders. He tensed and then relaxed when he realised that it was just Severus pulling him closer in order to hug him. He still wasn't entirely used to being hugged; the Dursleys certainly never had done anything of the sort, and if his parents had, then he didn't remember it.

"Harry?" Severus sleep roughened voice rumbled against his back, and he allowed himself to sink backwards into his guardian's chest. "Are you all right?"

He felt a short burst of magic from the man and then a small glowing orb appeared overhead; lighting the room to a small degree and allowing them to see one another. Severus' eyes were dark and a touch red rimmed, and again Harry wondered what had happened.

"I . . . I think so," he whispered, not feeling at all sure of the validity of his answer.

"What do you remember?" Severus asked him, pulling them both up into a reclining position against the pillows.

"I—," he paused. What did he remember?

Snitch chirped against his chest and idly he ran a finger over his friend's small furry head.

"I 'member us walking down to the edge of the forest with Hadwyn," he started slowly.

Severus nodded at him and he let out a small sigh of relief at the reassurance.

"And," Harry's brow wrinkled as he tried to remember past the dark blankness currently residing in his memory banks. "And, H-Hadwyn told us we'd be okay."

He received another nod.

"You held something out," he looked away and blinked several times, frustrated with how hard it was to think.

"The portkey," Severus prompted softly.

Harry flinched. He could see himself holding out his hand, touching the portkey, and he shivered at the barrage of emotions that suddenly began flowing through his mind and body.

"Harry," the voice was low and insistent, and he turned towards it slowly.

Severus was staring at him intensely, and he blinked back in bewilderment.

"Sir?" He whispered. He had been elsewhere; far away in the cold classroom, slumped over a desk, his jeans and pants around his ankles as . . .

Harry twisted away violently to vomit off the side of the bed at the memory. He heaved again and then gasped for air at edge of the bed, his body instinctively curling up around itself. A large calloused hand touched his forehead and then his cheek, making him aware of the tears that were still dripping down his face.

Severus vanished the boy's mess and then cast a freshening charm over the room itself. Beside him, Harry trembled, wide eyed, but still present; unlike the previous evening.

A warm arm slid around Harry's shoulders and he pushed his face into Severus' soft cotton shirt with something akin to a whimper. He could feel the man's long fingers rubbing soothing circles on his back, and Harry almost wished that Severus really was his father. He wished that he could have had this sort of comfort all of his life.

Merlin knew he had needed it in the past.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled into Severus' chest a few minutes later.

"Do not be," Severus whispered just as softly into his hair. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

Harry nodded, trying to believe the man. He wanted to, but he couldn't ignore the sound of his Uncle Vernon's voice ridiculing him in the back of his mind.

"Little worthless bastard! Think you can cry and get out of your chores?" His uncle had roared all too often at him.

He had only cried up until about age seven or eight, and that was only when Dudley or Vernon had hurt him more than usual that day. He had only cried because he was hungry, and he was lonesome, and instead of loving or supportive comments, all he ever received were slaps and insults.

He felt ashamed at crying now, without being in actual physical pain. He felt ashamed to cry even as he was held and hugged and given all those things he had never had.

As though reading his mind, Severus began speaking again in a low voice.

"I do believe we have more in common than I would have thought previously, Harry," were the man's surprising words.

He shook his head in confusion, not quite daring to look up from the warm perch his head was making against Severus' chest. Snitch had moved to his side and seemed to be intent on petting his hand the way Harry had often petted his familiar's head.

"Crush your emotions down deep, far down into your heart where they can't hurt and you can't be hurt by them, yes?"

He shrugged, not quite willing to tell the older man that what he was saying sounded pretty familiar.

Severus gave a soft harrumph. "You do not have to hide them from me. I shall not ridicule you for feeling. Unhappiness befalls upon everyone, and I daresay that you have a better reason than most to be miserable."

Severus' words rumbled through his head, and Harry felt himself relaxing slowly as he listened.

He barely noticed when his guardian dimmed the overhead light to almost nothing, returning the room to its previous darkness.

"I wish I could offer you reassurances, child," Severus voice was now only a very distant feeling in the side of his body. "All I can promise is that I will not let you suffer alone."

He had a vague sensation of lips against his forehead, and then sleep claimed him once again.

It was some time before he awoke again.

. . .

Breakfast was a bit awkward. Severus had warned him before leaving their room that the woman thought Harry to be his son.

"I can correct her if you like, but I thought . . ." Severus trailed off, looking at him expectantly.

Harry let a smile slip out at the corners of his mouth. "No, it's all right," he shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets rather shyly.

At breakfast, he had sat on the opposite side of Severus from their host. He had been extremely self-conscious of her eyes on him, but some of that had faded with the feeding of Snitch. He supposed that she wasn't really staring at him; likely she wasn't even looking at him! But he didn't know her, and after everything that had happened to him that term, it was little surprise that he wasn't exactly comfortable around her.

Luckily for him, Severus announced their departure shortly after they had finished eating, and after listening to his guardian politely decline her offer to escort them there, they were soon on their way once more.

Hadwyn's cabin was set off of the main road a fair ways, not unlike Elena Magija's home had been. Harry found it a bit odd to leave a place that he didn't remember visiting, but Severus didn't allow him to dwell on it for very long.

Happily, Hedwig was waiting for them when they finally made it to the front door of their destination.

The sight of his snowy owl was enough to put a real smile on Harry's face; the first in what felt like an extremely long time.

"Hedwig!" He called out joyously, and with a loud hoot of response, she flew onto his arm.

Beside him, Severus was adjusting the wards to recognize their presence, and Harry watched him in awestruck silence until he finished.

"Is that something that everyone can do?" He asked, peering up at Severus in interest.

"Not everyone," Severus said, giving a small half-smile before ushering him inside.

The inside was dark and cool, but a fire arose in the grate when they closed the front door; casting warmth over the innards of the cabin as it flared brightly before them.

The furniture was almost entirely hand made from some sort of heavy stout wood that looked as though it could stand up to anything—maybe even Hagrid, Harry thought with some awe. Hesitantly he touched the corner of one large chair, and after receiving no words of warning, he found himself running his fingers over the most of the rest of the wooden structures as well.

"Would you like to explore?" Severus asked just as he reached the edge of the room.

Harry paused, his hand on the edge of the large stone fireplace and bit his lip, thinking.

"Can we go together?" He asked in a soft voice, watching Severus' face carefully.

"Certainly," Severus answered agreeably enough, albeit with a slight look of surprise.

It wasn't that he didn't want to explore Hadwyn's home, because he did, but rather because he didn't know what was in there. Logically he knew that Hadwyn was safe, but exploring things unknown no longer had the same appeal they once had.

Who knew what or who might be waiting for him in the dark?

. . .

The cabin was a one story building with five rooms, not including a small cellar that Hadwyn used to store vegetables and various supplies in. The other five rooms consisted of the main sitting room, which doubled as a dining room—a small kitchenette in the corner, two fairly bland bedrooms, one bath and toilet, and a small out of the way corner that clearly served as some sort of a cross between a laboratory and an examination room.

"He doesn't really seem to have much of himself in here," was Harry's somewhat astute observation after they finished the tour.

"Unless I am very much mistaken," Severus answered, "All of the furniture was carved by him."

That got a round eyed look of surprise from the boy.

"But other than that, you are most correct. I believe that Hadwyn puts the primary part of himself into his work with dragons and the other people who work in this field."

Harry nodded at him thoughtfully, his eyes somewhat distant. Uncomfortably, Severus found himself associating that blank look more and more with the child's horrid flashbacks, and thus suggested, "Would you like to pick a room to make your own?"

Green eyes flicked abruptly towards him and Severus allowed a small smile to come across his face at the intense scrutiny inherent in the boy's face.

"My decision?" Was Harry's carefully spoken question.

"Yes."

"And you won't turn it Slytherin green?"

"I will not," Severus promised.

He watched as the boy's lips pursed thoughtfully. "Can I have the room overlooking the lake?"

Severus had an inkling that Harry was going to ask for that room. "You may."

"And I can decorate it however I want?" Harry's voice was small, and a touch hopeful.

"Yes," Severus answered, feeling an odd pleasure blossoming in his heart at being able to grant such a simple—yet much hoped for—request.

Harry beamed a beatific smile at him and then ran off to his room excitedly.