“These pies are fantastic,” said Harry, shovelling another forkful into his mouth. In truth, the steak and kidney pies weren’t as good as the ones at Hogwarts, but there was something about sitting in the scrubbed, cheerful kitchen with Sirius that made everything taste better.

“I’m glad you approve,” Sirius said as he spooned another large piece of pie on to Harry’s plate. Neither of them were used to cheerful family dinners around and the table and they both sat in silence, savouring their contentment, both realizing for the first time the level of peace having a home brought.

The room and the redone house kept making Harry’s thoughts drift back the Dursley’s. He wasn’t sure if his mind was trying to heighten his feelings of gratefulness and joy by giving him a horrible flashpoint for comparison, or if he was determined to always have a little misery in his life, just for interest’s sake. At least Dudley is spending his birthday with his mates in Ireland this year, thought Harry relieved to know that, at the very least, he wouldn’t have to go through the stress of Dudley’s birthday this year. Then an even better thought occurred to Harry.

“Can I stay here for my birthday?” asked Harry suddenly. Sirius had zoned out over his pie and started at Harry’s request. Feeling suddenly extremely stupid, and childish, and greedy for asking for something so soon after he got his room, Harry blushed.

“Harry, of course you can stay for your birthday.” Harry looked up through his fringe to see Sirius poorly suppressing a grin. “Ron and Hermione too, and who’s that funny girl - Luna? I like her, and whomever else you want. It’ll be a party. We can have cake!”

“Oh I don’t need all that!” said Harry, feeling the colour return to his face again. “No need to put yourself out. It would just be nice to spend my birthday with people who actually like me.” He threw a crooked smile at Sirius to try to impress on the man that he wasn’t going to be needy or trouble. The smile he was expecting didn’t come and Sirius’ eyes narrowed.

“I want to do all that Harry, really. It’s not putting me out at all,” Then he sat forward wit the air of someone readying themselves for an intense conversation and looked Harry in the eye with the barest hint of discomfort. “Look, Harry, about your Aunt and Uncle -“

Before Harry had a chance to be embarrassed at the unwontedly serious look on Sirius’ face, his godfather suddenly looked up and over his shoulder, like a dog sensing prey.

“Sirius?” whispered Harry. Sirius ssh’d him and got to his feet, pulling his wand out as he did. Harry followed suit, feeling a deep swell of anxiety despite the fact that he had not heard anything. Then Harry heard it, the sound of footsteps on creaking wood. Sirius’ face was tensed as his eyes roamed the room

“Remus?” called Sirius tentatively. No answer came. Sirius’ brow furrowed further. “Snape?” Silence echoed through Grimmauld Place.

“Harry, into the fireplace, now,” Sirius said urgently, pushing Harry toward the fireplace. He had taken a few steps when Lucius Malfoy suddenly appeared out of thin air in front of them. Both Harry and Sirius froze. Before Harry had a chance to react, Sirius pulled his wand out, Lucius had the advantage of being prepared though and Sirius was thrown back to the table with a quick flick of Lucius’ wand.
r32;“Stupify!” screamed Harry instinctively. With practiced ease, Lucius dodged the curse and smirked at Harry.

“Too slow, Potter,” Malfoy said with a smirk. Before Harry could react, his knees gave out and everything went black.

“- TOUCH HIM!” roared Sirius from somewhere off in the distance. Harry was freezing cold. He opened his eyes with a gasp. He was lying in a dark room on concrete floor. His head was sore, and he felt fuzzy. 

“Harry! Harry! Are you alright?” Sirius yelled again, panicked. His voice was far away. Two hands yanked him to his feet, they were rougher than Sirius’ hands ever would be.

“Don’t touch him!” Sirius growled. “Leave him!”

It was hard for Harry to stand because he knees were weak and he felt nauseous. Adrenaline shot through Harry’s veins as he looked around. He was in an odd thin hallway filled with cloudy orbs to the ceiling. Hooded figures surrounded him. He blinked at them in confusion before he noticed Sirius, sitting in the middle of the hallway tied to a chair with what looked like faerie lights, but what Harry assumed to be a powerful, magical rope. His face was bloody already, and his shirt was ripped. When Harry looked at him he smiled grimly.

“You ok?” Sirius asked lowly.

“Aw, isn’t this sweet!” came a high-pitched female voice. A woman, with long ragged curls stepped into the light behind Sirius. A look of rage Harry had never seen on Sirius’ face before flashed across Sirius’ face.

“My little-bitty cousin. All domestic,” the woman said with a sneer.

“Shut up, Bellatrix!” roared Sirius. Bellatrix smacked him across the head. Sirius didn’t make a sound.

“What do you want?” Harry said. His desire to save Sirius and himself taking over his fear.

“Smart boy,” said a masked figure whose voice Harry vaguely recognized.

“Potter, I want you to retrieve something for me,” the figure said. “You do this for me, I’ll let you and and your beloved dog-father go.”  Instantly, Harry’s eyes found Sirius’. Almost imperceptibly his godfather shook his head. Harry didn’t move.

“No?” said the figure. Before Harry could do anything, a hooded figure slashed his wand through the air. Sirius didn’t scream, but he keeled over in his chair.

Harry stepped towards him, but was held back by two strong arms.

“Give me orb 91, and no more harm will come to him,” hissed the voice. “Until then…”

This time Bellatrix pointed her wand at Sirius.

“Crucio!” she shrieked. This time, Sirius grit his teeth and gave a loud grunt

“SIRIUS!” Harry yelled, but before he could get to his Godfather, he was pushed towards the orb.

“Is that the best you got, bitch?” Sirius growled. Bellatrix shrieked with laugher and cursed him again. This time, Sirius couldn’t hold back a yelp of pain. Without even thinking, Harry rushed to the shelves of orbs, desperately looking for 91.

“No, Harry,” croaked Sirius. Harry stopped and turned back to his Godfather. Sirius - brave, strong, Sirius - looked a moment away from passing out cold, but he smiled at Harry.

“Trust me, kiddo. I can take much worse than these cowards can give,” said Sirius, earning him a slap across the face from Bellatrix. Harry’s heart pounded in his chest. Whatever this orb was was clearly important enough for Sirius to be willing to be tortured to keep it safe. Harry couldn’t just turn it over, but he couldn’t watch Sirius be torn to shreds either.

“Are you so sure?” hissed a low, male voice. Before Sirius could respond, the man pointed his wand at Sirius, and flicked. There was a loud crack and Sirius’ arm jutted out an awkward angle.

Harry didn’t know how much of this Sirius could take. He tried to grab the orb closest to himself to throw, but he couldn’t lift it off of the shelf. He had no wand.

“I won’t give you anything,” Harry said, desperately hoping Sirius was able to hold out long enough for him to formulate a plan. Sirius gave him an encouraging little nod.

“Really?” said Bellatrix. She pointed her wand at Sirius. Suddenly Sirius was coughing and choking, then blood bubbled out of his mouth.

“Stop!” Harry said. “Please”

“My little cousin was always such a softie,” Bellatrix said. “Thought he was so much better. Such a good boy,” she laughed at her own joke. Harry didn’t know what the hell she was talking about, but Sirius was pale. Without even thinking, Harry bolted to Bellatrix and tackled her.

“STOP!” he yelled. Sirius gasped for breath. Bellatrix screamed and shoved Harry’s head onto to the ground.

“Stop,” gasped Sirius.

“Ohh my cousin loves you,” Bellatrix said, pointing her wand at Harry. With her face inches away from his, Harry could see the family resemblance in their dark eyes and attractive features. Unlike Sirius, her dark eyes were cold.

“He begs for you,” she said. “He used to only beg for little Reggie. Leave him ALONE.” She shrieked in a child-like voice. Sirius looked, if possible, even more enraged.

“Bella, please,” Sirius said softly. “Leave Harry. If you ever loved - ”

“LOVED YOU!” Bellatrix shrieked her face inches from Sirius’. “I loved you until you became a blood-traitor. You disgrace. No one will love you ever…now you concern yourself with this half-blood scum who isn’t even yours.”

Bellatrix kicked Harry hard in the ribs. 

“Bella!” For the first time, Sirius looked genuinely scared. Bellatrix smiled to her hooded companions.

“Hurt the boy instead,” she said calmly. Suddenly, a fire of pain engulfed Harry’s nerves. He heard himself scream and he chomped down hard on his cheek. Off in the distance, he could hear Sirius screaming. Abruptly, the pain stopped.

“Love, it’s ok,” Sirius said, from his chair. “Give them the prophecy. It’s ok.” Harry looked up at the masked faces, a swell of hatred going through him.

“No,” Harry said, kicking on of the hooded figures in the knee.

Suddenly, there were flashes of light and gasps of shock from the hooded figures. Harry didn’t care. He only had eyes for Sirius. Taking advantage of the shocked look on their faces he ran to the chair.

“Sirius!” Harry said. Undoing the rope even though it sent shocks through him.

“Are you ok?” Sirius asked hurriedly as Harry pulled the ropes off of him. There were sparks and fire happening behind Harry, but he didn’t care.

“ME?” Harry asked. “Are you ok?”  Sirius grinned and wiped the blood off of his chin.

“Always,” Sirius said getting up onto his feet. Despite his bravado, Sirius could hardly stand.

“Going somewhere?” The hooded figure who had hounded Harry before had lost his hood. It was Lucius Malfoy.

“YOU!” shouted Harry, hatred rising through him.

“Me,” Lucius said, raising his wand. Behind him, Tonks and Kingsley were duelling with two wizards. Someone had alerted the Order. Without really thinking about it, Harry reached into the case and grabbed orb number 91.

“Let us go!” Harry said, “Let us go or I drop it.” Lucius snarled, but made no move towards him. Quickly Harry backed away, pulling Sirius with him.

“Brilliant,” Sirius said with a laugh has Harry pulled them into the stacks. “I wish I had a wand though.”

Harry too felt naked and vulnerable.
“The others, should we go back?” whispered Harry. They had turned into the stacks now, but soon people would be after them.

“Right now my priority is getting you out of here,” Sirius said, looking around for an exit.

“I want to help,” Harry said, indignant. He was not a child.

“Not without a wand, love,” Sirius said, with a wry smile. Before Harry could reply. Sirius closed his eyes in pain and pitched forward.

“Sirius,” Harry whispered, putting a hand on Sirius’ back. Harry hadn’t truly appreciated how pale Sirius was until that moment.

“‘ m ok,” Sirius whispered. “There’s the door.”

Sure enough, the dim light from the door window was only feet ahead. There was a loud boom, almost like an explosion, from behind them then a scream. Sirius and Harry shared a quick, grim look but continued forward. Some of the orbs shook. Sirius frowned at them for a minute, then looked at Harry.

“Kiddo, run to the door, use the floo, call Dumbledore,” Sirius said.

“But -”

“They need back-up,” Sirius said firmly. “And I can’t move as fast. I’ll be right behind you.” Harry didn’t like the plan, but he didn’t want to  waste time arguing. He bolted for the door. He put his hand on the door when he realized something: Dumbledore knew. They entire Order knew. He frowned and turned around to go back where he came.

Before he could, there was another explosion and a loud crash. Suddenly, the ground started shaking uncontrollably. All around Harry the orbs were falling off of their great stone shelves. He knelt and covered his head desperately, feeling shards of glass break on him and cut him. Stones from the shelves fell, but near to the door as he was, none hit him.

The shaking stopped. Harry straightened up and looked around at the devastation. The orbs were almost all broken. The shelves had snapped in some places, making the room look like the giant inside of a cave. All the light had been extinguished. Then, a horrible thought occurred to Harry.

“Sirius! Sirius,” yelled Harry as he raced through the rubble. It didn’t look like there was too much. Snape had some of the heavy stones from the dungeon fall on him and he was as good as new now. Harry almost slipped on a fallen rock and suddenly could see feet sticking out from under some rubble. Harry ran to the rock side, his heartbeat in his ears deafening him. 

“Sirius,” Harry whispered, hesitantly lowering himself to his knees. He felt as though he saw Sirius in patches, as though his mind wouldn’t fully allow himself to process the broken bones, blood and shallow breathing. A shard of glass had fallen, and Harry didn’t understand why it was standing up at a 90 degree angle until he encoded that it was sticking through Sirius’ stomach. Sirius, already damaged from the torture, was shaking all over with shock, and he was staring at the ceiling, wide-eyed as though trying to mentally shut out the pain. He felt Harry’s eyes on him and smiled.

“S’ok kiddo,” breathed Sirius grasping his hand around to find Harry’s. Harry took it and squeezed. Sirius coughed and blood came out. He raised a shaky hand and wiped it away. He looked at his bloody hand a little resignedly then looked up to Harry and smiled shakily again. He rubbed his thumb along the back of Harry’s hand.

“Go find Remus,” whispered Sirius. “I’ll be alright.” Something wet made contact with Harry’s jeans, and he realized it was Sirius’ blood. Harry knew nothing about healing, but he knew that there was no way Sirius was going to be alright. Harry felt his lip tremble. He shook his head negatively.

“I don’t want you to see this, Harry,” rasped Sirius, fighting to keep his eyes open. “Just go.” Harry shook his head again and shuffled closer to Sirius’ head.

“You sent me ahead,” Harry said, almost accusatorially. “You knew this was going to happen.”

“Thought it might,” Sirius whispered. “Didn’t want you hurt.” Tears sprung to Harry’s eyes. If Sirius hadn’t been so adamant about protecting Harry…if he had never been tortured…

“Not your fault, “ Sirius said, looking intently into Harry’s eyes. “Not your fault.”

“They tortured you because of me,” whispered Harry. “You’re dying because of me.”

“No. I’m alive because of you,” whispered Sirius. “Without you, I’d’a given up long ago in Azkaban.” Blood trickled out of his mouth.

“Shh…don’t talk,” Harry whispered shakily.  He could do this. He could be brave, be a man. Harry reached forward and brushed a tear from Sirius’ cheek.  Sirius looked up at him, his hazy eyes tender.

“You’re not that like James you know,” Sirius said, his words starting to slur slightly. He frowned. “But you are sort of. It’s hard to tell cause you look so like him – but you’re like Lily too…and not…and other people…you’re just Harry.” Even though he was slurring and shaking, Sirius’ tone left no doubt that he thought Harry being ‘just Harry’ was the best thing Harry could be. There were precious few who thought that. Harry couldn’t bear the thought of losing one of them.

“Don’t die,” Harry whispered suddenly, even though he had vowed to himself only moments ago to be strong for Sirius. “Please don’t die.” Sirius’ eyes creased in sympathy and his lip quivered. Harry felt a rush of guilt. He was supposed to be comforting.

“Come here,” rasped Sirius, shakily widening his arm to make space for Harry beside him. Unabashed, Harry lay his head on Sirius’ shoulder and curled up beside him. Sirius drew an arm around him to hold him to his chest.

“You’re gonna be ok, kiddo,” said Sirius, his voice breathy but firmer than it had been since Harry found him. With Herculean effort, Sirius ran his arm ran up and down Harry’s arm to comfort him. With a gasp of tears, Harry realized that this would probably be the last time he ever felt that sensation. Harry closed his eyes and wrapped his fingers in Sirius’ shirt. As long as Harry didn’t look up, as long as he kept his head buried in Sirius shoulder, he could still believe that Sirius was clinging to life, that he wasn’t alone yet. He wasn’t ready to be alone.

“Harry! Oh my God!” Harry vaguely recognized Tonks’ voice. He kept his eyes closed.

“Tonks, calm down.” Remus’ voice whispered harshly. Footsteps closed in on him. Remus was going to try and take Sirius away, but he might not be dead yet. Harry wasn’t going to let him go. Harry heard the general scuffling of a person seating himself. Harry could feel Remus’ warmth radiating from behind him, just as he could still feel Sirius’ below him.

Remus said nothing, did nothing. Harry was starting to feel a prickly agitation, if Remus was going to sit down, why wasn’t he doing anything. Unable to bear it anymore, Harry raised his eyes to look at Remus. A large gash lay across his face He worried the inside of his right cheek so fast it almost looked like he clicking his teeth together. The outside of his hand rested on Sirius’ cheek. Feeling Harry’s eyes, he turned to look at him. His eyes creased sympathetically.

“I’m not leaving him,” said Harry petulantly, even though he didn’t believe it. Remus nodded solemnly.

“I’d like to stay with you, if I may,” he whispered. Harry shrugged and lay his head back on Sirius shoulder. It was slightly cooler now. After a moment, there was a sound of shuffling and Harry felt something warm being pulled up over his shoulders…Remus’ jacket. After a few moments, Harry looked back up at Remus, who smiled gently at him. Harry could see the faint outline of tear tracks on the man’s face and suddenly felt extremely stupid. He wasn’t acting like a man. Remus was acting like a man, stoically waiting for the little boy to stop making a scene. Sirius died like a man, using his last breaths to comfort a little boy. Harry wasn’t a man. He was nowhere close, but he couldn’t keep clinging to his godfather’s body like a traumatized child.

Ignoring the part of him that yelled he couldn’t do it, Harry eased open his fingers that had cramped around Sirius’ shirt. Suddenly, Harry couldn’t be anywhere near his godfather anymore. He stood up quickly, surprising Remus, who stood up after him.

“The Deatheaters disaparated,” Remus whispered. “Dumbledore nearly caught Voldemort. He wants you out of here, before the press arrive.”

Numbly, Harry nodded, barely hearing what Remus was saying. Gently Remus pressed an old candy tin into Harry hand.

“Say Hogwarts,” Remus said gently.

“Hogwarts,” Harry said dully. For the first time in his recollection, he wasn’t looking forward to seeing the place. Something gripped his navel and he spun through the air like a top.





 XXX

Severus had paced the length of his apartment so many times that he was starting to feel like he was in a cage. One of the significant disadvantages of being a spy was that, on missions like this, he was forced to sit on the sidelines and wait for the news of who lived, who died and who was injured. A fact that was made significantly worse by the fact that, this time, Harry was involved. Then there had been Dumbledore’s horribly ominous patronus.

Harry is coming.” Harry is coming. What did that even mean? Why was he coming? What the hell was Severus supposed to do with him?  Severus didn’t know the answers, so he had been walking back and forth, getting increasingly agitated and angry. The agitation had turned into bitter fantasies about the pain he was going to rain down on Potter. He was going to give the boy a tongue-thrashing that would…

The floo flared green, and Snape whipped around ready to unleash a steady stream of bile on Potter, but the moment Harry appeared, all Severus could do was stare.  The boy held a clearly his injured arm to his chest. His ashen white complexion stood out in patches underneath the mixture of blood and grime that covered his entire body. Most alarmingly, Harry’s usually expressive eyes were completely vacant. What the hell?

Aside from stepping out of the fireplace, Harry had made no other move to acknowledge Snape or do anything else. Severus strode across the apartment and placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. Harry looked up at him and, before he could stop himself, Severus cast a swift ‘legilimens’. Potter didn’t even try to erect any shields.

Severus saw the fallen orbs, Potter’s arm, Sirius face being drained off life. Sirius died. Severus felt his stomach drop uncomfortably, it seemed to be harder to take a breath, and his mouth went dry. This was not the time. Severus pulled himself out of Harry’s head and looked into the boy’s eyes, horrified. Harry blinked back. His eyes, aside from showing a bone-deep weariness, were completely devoid of expression. He didn’t need Severus’ horror. With a blink Severus erected his own mask of neutrality.

Snape took Harry by the shoulder and guided him into the bathroom of the living room. Harry didn’t resist. It seemed to Severus that the boy barely knew where he was.

“Sit,” Severus said, and Harry compliantly sat on the toilet. Harry dropped bonelessly onto the toilet, dropped his head, pitched forward a little, and drew his injured arm into his stomach.

“I need to look at that arm,” Severus said, reaching out for Harry’s arm. Harry gave an exhausted nod and held out his arm. The gash on Harry’s arm was bloody, raw and painful-looking.  Severus sighed and traced the outline of the gash with his finger to access how deep the injury ran. It was deep, deep and dirty. 

Severus ran a hand over his forehead wondering, not for the first time, why everything bad and painful had to happen to this kid. Severus summoned a bottle of disinfectant and some gauze and dabbed at the gash. Harry hissed. Causing the boy more pain now made Severus’ stomach clench. The moment the gash was cleaned, Severus whipped out his wand and tapped the cut. The cut knit together neatly, a thin red line remained, the only evidence of the gash.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” Severus asked. Harry shook his head, but Severus didn’t believe him, not in this state. Severus grabbed the bottom of Harry’s singed, bloody shirt and pulled it up unceremoniously. Harry compliantly raised his arms than let them crash back to his side. Severus reached down and pulled off one shoe and smelly sock, then the other.

Up,” ordered Severus tightly. Harry pulled himself to his feet and did not react when Severus yanked down his disgusting, blood-soaked jeans to leave him sitting in only his boxers. 

There were a few deep scratches on Harry’s back, and a single shard of glass sticking half out of his thigh. Severus yanked it out with a quick pull and staunched the pleading with some gauze. Then he frowned. Harry was trembling underneath his fingers.

For a moment, Severus thought it was shock or the cold, but Harry was almost vibrating. Severus had vibrated before, after exposure to the Cruciatus curse. What the hell had happened in that Ministry.

“Did they Crucio you?” Severus asked tightly. Harry blinked at him then nodded.  Suddenly, Harry’s sluggish responses had taken on a much more worrying character.

“How many times?” Severus asked, realizing he didn’t have the gentle personality to ease the traumatized memories out of Potter. Perhaps he should call Madam Pomfrey.

“Only once,” Harry muttered. “They kept doing it to…” Harry swallowed thickly and looked into the corner.

Severus almost wished the boy’s injuries were worse. A physical injury Severus could fix, but he had no idea what to do with this numb despair. He could just send the boy away, to the dorm or the hospital wing, but Dumbledore would be pissed and not even Severus was that cold. Realizing he had been staring at the trembling, blood-and-grime covered boy for almost a minute, Severus crossed his arms. Harry wouldn’t sleep covered in his Godfather’s blood,  not on Severus’ watch. He pointed his wand at the bathtub. It sprang to life, causing Harry to start slightly.

“In,” Severus said. The boy clumsily climbed over the side of the rub and sat down heavily, drawing his knees up to his chest. He did nothing. After a moments hesitation Severus reached out his long, pale fingers and took Harry bloody hands in his. He raised the boy’s hands up to the tap and started to rub the dry, crusted blood from around the boy’s fingernails and crevices. The blood swirled off of Harry’s hand, leaving them  as smooth and unmarked as a teenagers hands should be.  Harry shivered, chilled. Severus grabbed the shower head down.

“Close your eyes, Potter,” said Severus, his voice not much above a whisper. Harry  buried his head in his knees. Severus directed the warm water over the boy’s head and shoulders. Severus reached up and rubbed a particularly stubborn patch of blood in the boy’s hair. He hadn’t really appreciated how thin the boy was until that moment.

The lines of his ribcage were visible, and in the skin of Potter’s arched back. he noticed a thin, white scar. His finger traced it, then another. Severus brow contracted. He had similar scars. The disturbing thought was immediately pushed away. Severus could not deal with that right now.  He was already out of his depth.

The trembling in Harry back had calmed, and he was still under Severus’ hand. Severus turned the tap off. He grabbed a towel and draped it over Harry’s shoulders. After a moment, Harry raised his head from where it had been buried in his knees.

Blood and grime still covered the boy’s face. He looked so incredibly lost and young. Something painful and sharp pressed at Severus’ heart at the look on the boy’s face. 

“Come here,” Severus whispered, pulling the glasses off of Harry’s face. The boy blinked dully back at Severus, looking almost catatonic as Severus grabbed a washcloth and wiped the last bit of the night’s evidence off the boy’s face.

“Dry off. I’ll get you something to wear and something for the pain,” Severus said, feeling suddenly awkward. He swiftly left the room and called a house-elf and got her to bring Harry’s clothes then sat heavily down on his easy chair. Without any real conviction, Severus summoned a vial of pain reliever.

He would have given them to Harry immediately, but the boy was so unresponsive Severus had forgotten that he would be in physical pain. Perhaps he was too far gone to feel it. Severus dropped his head into his hands despondently. This war. This fucking war. There was a loud crack. A houseelf placed a pile of clothes on the table beside Severus.

“Thank you,” grunted Severus. The houseelf nodded, then disappeared with another crack. Feeling a hundred years old, Severus pulled himself to his feet, grabbed the clothes and walked to the bathroom.

“Harry?” called Severus knocking on the door. There was no answer. A swell of horror flooded Severus. He should never have Harry alone in there. What if -. Severus threw open the door. Harry was still sitting in the bathtub, staring at the bathroom wall. The towel was still draped around his neck. He hadn’t moved.  Severus squeezed his empty hand into tight fists than expanded it, forcing away the tension. His heart still thumping in his chest, Severus stormed across the room.  He was about to yell at the boy, but didn’t. Instead he grabbed his wand and swirled it at Harry. The boy and his boxers were dry.

He reached down and pulled the boy up to his feet. Compliantly enough, Harry stepped awkwardly over the tub. As if he had forgotten what to do next, he sank back down to sit on the side of the tub.

“This will be more comfortable,” Severus said, talking mostly just to make sounds as he pulled Harry’s pajama top over his head and pull on his pants like he was an over-sized toddler.

“Drink this for me,” Severus ordered holding out the pain-relievers. Harry did, and the moment he did so, a little bit of tension eased behind his eyes. He looked expectantly at Severus and Severus blinked at him.

What now? The child was clean, healed and no longer in physical pain.

“You can stay here tonight. Do you want that?” asked Severus. He barely thought about the question, he just knew he couldn’t send the boy back to his dorm alone. For the first time, there was a chink in the horrid, blank look on the boy’s face, and his lip trembled slightly. After a moment, he nodded tightly.

At that tiny nod, Severus felt as though someone had reached through his chest, and squeezed his heart.

“Alright,” Severus said, as though this was nothing out-of-the-ordinary.  He quickly set to work transfiguring the couch to a bed and summoning duvets and pillows. Admittedly, this wasn’t the first student he had had sleep in his apartment.  A few times over the years, a student had been so distraught or ill that Severus hadn’t seen any other way to do his job properly then by having them on the couch where Severus could keep watch over them.

As soon as everything was made up, Harry collapsed on top of the covers, rolled away from Severus and drew his knees into his chest. Severus summoned the blanket from the back of his chair and gently laid it out over the boy. 

For a moment, Severus let his hand linger on Harry’s shoulder, feeling suddenly guilty. He hadn’t said anything comforting to the boy. Severus cleared his throat.

“Try to get some rest,” he said in the gentlest tone he could. He was about to say that everything would be better in the morning, but he knew he’d be lying. He walked away, leaving Harry to his thoughts.

“Don’t - Don’t go.” Harry whispered suddenly. “Please.” Severus stopped at the door.

This was not something Severus ever wanted. Despite teaching the boy Occlumency despite realizing that Potter was not a demon spawn but a normal, if not better than average, teenager, and despite the way he did his Js just like Lily, Severus never wanted to like Harry.

Liking Harry was ridiculously complicated. It was only setting Harry up to be hurt when he found out that Severus had sold out James and Lily. Then Severus would be crushed all over again by the look in Harry’s eyes. Severus didn’t deserve to like Harry, he certainly didn’t deserve to love him. Rationally, he knew the best thing for Harry would be for him to walk out of the room and shut the door on whatever this burgeoning relationship was.

Yet even though he knew all this, for the first time in a long time, Severus could not listen to the rational side of his brain. Emotion took over, and he walked back over to the couch-bed and sat down beside Harry.

Harry was still turned towards the back of the couch-bed and didn’t even acknowledge Severus when he sat down. After a moment of anxiously trying to determine what the boy wanted from him, Severus hesitantly reached out, and rested his hand on Harry’s shoulder.

The boy’s lip began to tremble. Severus swallowed, and squeezed Harry’s shoulder gently. It was a small comfort, but it was the only one Severus had ever known himself. Harry closed his eyes as more tears spilled. Feeling an anxious pit in his stomach, Severus cleared his throat.

“Black, he – what I mean to say is I know Sirius cared for you a great deal,” said Severus awkwardly. It was the only comforting thing he could think of that was not a lie. Harry started to sob earnestly.

More anxiety blossomed inside Snape. He desperately wished he was someone else, someone who was good at this. Hell he’d even settle for turning into James Potter if it would give him the words to calm Harry.

Because it was Harry, and only because it was Harry, Severus reached back to memories he had long suppressed. Memories of Lily’s death, his Mother’s…what could anyone possibly have made him feel any better?

“You’re not alone,” Severus said finally. “I’ll stay with you as long as you want.”

Harry turned around so that his forehead rested against the side of Severus’ thigh.  It was almost as though Harry believed he instead had to steal a bits physical contact by grazing Severus’ leg with his forehead instead of being held.

The vulnerability in that gesture broke down any remaining reticence Severus had. He moved to face the same was as Harry on the bed so that Harry’s head was half-resting in his lap, pulled the blanket more firmly around Harry’s shoulders and ran his hand up and down the boy’s back lightly. Severus had never treated anyone with such gentleness before, but somehow, he couldn’t imagine doing any less for Harry when he was so broken.

After a few long minutes, the exhaustion of the day turned Harry’s shaking sobs into deceptively peaceful heavy breathing. The boy had cried himself to sleep, but Severus didn’t move. Implicitly, he had promised the boy he wouldn’t leave, and Severus always kept his promises.