"Harry," Severus whispered, touching Harry's shoulder. "Harry, it's time for supper."

"Hmm?" Harry moaned, as he was roused to consciousness.

"It's time for supper," Severus repeated. Harry's eyes snapped open, and he sat up. Harry's jaw worked up and down, but he didn't say anything. "Is everything alright?" Severus asked, concerned. He didn't know what was going through Harry's mind. He didn't want to speculate either. Blast Harry, and his way of not telling him what was on his mind! The boy needed to tell him what was wrong. He was really getting tired of having to guess everything.

"Um..." Harry paused. Well, at least it was a vocalization. Severus tried not to roll his eyes at the lack of eloquence Harry was showing.

"Please, do continue," he prompted, letting a slight sarcastic drawl creep into his words.

"It's time for supper?" Harry asked.

"Yes, I do believe that's what I said," Severus said, crossing his arms. "What's wrong with that statement?"

"Um..." Harry paused, returning to his previous annoying fillers. "I didn't think - I mean, you're going to let me eat supper? With you?" Harry immediately winced as soon as he had the question out. Severus let his shoulders droop slightly as he sighed in exasperation.

"And why, young man, do you think I would not let you eat supper with me?"

"Because, well - " Harry stammered. Severus narrowed his eyes. Harry's hand moved to his arm, and he dropped his gaze. "Well, I messed up, didn't I?"

"Harry, Harry, Harry," Severus sighed, sitting next to Harry, who quickly pulled away, scooting to the arm of the couch. "When will you learn? What will I have to do to make you understand?" Despite the weak physical and vocal protests, Severus gently took Harry by the shoulders. "I will never withhold food from you, ever, for anything. I may be an impatient, rude, and generally unlikable dungeon bat, but I'm not totally evil. Of course I'll feed you." Severus pulled Harry into an embrace. Harry shuttered once, but let Severus do what he wanted. He should have known better than to think Harry would meet him with any resistance. Harry would let him do whatever he wanted, without any word of protest. Severus ran his fingers through Harry's mop of hair once before releasing him.

"But I messed up," Harry argued, apologetically.

"Yes," Severus said. "And if everyone went without their meals when they messed up, there would be a great deal of food going to waste." Harry swallowed, and Severus noticed his body was as tense as a drawn bowstring. "How can I assure you that I won't hurt you?" Harry just shook his head. He caught Harry in another embrace, trying to communicate someway that there wasn't going to be any repercussions for his early actions. "I will never harm you, Harry. Everything will be alright. You don't have to go through it alone."

"Yes, sir," Harry muttered.

"I can only help you as much as you let me help you," Severus whispered. "You need to let me help you."

"I'm sorry," Harry said, still muttering.

"It's alright," Severus replied.

"About last night," he continued. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Severus repeated. "Everything will be fine."

"You'll still - you still love me?"

"Of course I do," Severus snorted. If love was what one could call his protectiveness over Harry. Well, of course it was love. He'd do anything to keep Harry safe, and that was what love was, wasn't it? Putting the good of someone else over your own? If that was what love really was, then yes, he did love Harry. And there wasn't anything Harry could do to stop it. "Of course I still love you. That should go without saying."

"But what if you stopped? What if I did something and you stopped loving me?"

"It can't happen," Severus said. "Like when I said the hat couldn't not sort you, I can't stop caring about you. And no one would know my mind better than I do. Now, supper?"

"Yes, sir," Harry nodded.

.oO-Oo.

Severus couldn't believe - not for a minute - that Harry was too far gone to save. If he let himself believe that, everything was already lost. There was something left of Harry. If he could only reach it. He needed to be able to reach Harry's soul - his spirit - and communicate with it. To convince Harry that he was, in fact, quite safe, and no one would harm him.

But the repeated mantra in the back of his head was Lily's words - "How can Harry ever hope to trust a man who doesn't even trust himself?" He resolved he would trust himself more in the future. He could be the man that he needed to be in order to save Harry from his past.

There was a small voice of reality that screamed in the back of his head, clamored for his attention, that he needed to be aware of the fact that Harry would never heal. Even if he didn't believe it, he needed to be aware that not all stories had a happy ending. He was a hopeless romantic when it came to that, he knew. He'd lived, as a child, hoping for some kind of a happy ending to his misery with his father. He had read fairy tales - both wizard and muggle - and he had seen how time and again the children in these stories lived in conditions like his own. They were always saved by someone, or something miraculous happened, and their situations were alleviated.

The only relief he had ever gotten from his father was his school year. Alright, it was magic that got him out of the house for nine months at a time. But the very same magic that saved him was the magic that caused the problem in the first place. And then it had only ended with the death of his father. It hadn't been a happy ending at all.

His father came stumbling in, drunk as ever, and his mother was out, working at whatever odd jobs she could pick up. Honorable ones, of course. Sewing and cleaning. So Severus was alone in the house when his father tripped over the ledge at the front door.

"Bloody...door," Tobias Snape muttered, as he caught himself on the door handle. Severus came out from where he had been hiding, waiting for his father. Severus knew his father would want to be greeted when he came home, much as Severus would like to creep into a corner and be ignored. But he was eighteen, not eight. An adult, by both wizard and muggle law. He could deal with greeting his father.

"Hello," he said, hesitantly, holding his hands behind his back - what would become his default position for everything.

"Severus!" his father barked at him, and he tried not to wince at the accursed word - his name. Whenever his father used his name, it couldn't be good. He'd grown to hate his name once he had learned that.

"Yes, sir?" he replied. He set his jaw to take whatever his father would do to him now. It wasn't like he could move out. Where would he go? He didn't want to ask any of his friends to take him in. He couldn't face the thought of crawling to any of them, asking for pity, begging for a home. And he didn't have the means to live on his own. He was still trapped, just as trapped as he always was, just now he was older. And he didn't have the escape of school any longer. He felt sick to his stomach as he waited for what his father wanted of him. Sometimes it was just as simple as having him stand there and listen to a rant about what a worthless person he was. But no matter how many times he heard it, the words stung every time.

"You - you freak," his father slurred, coming to stand in front of him - too close for comfort - but Severus wouldn't back down. It was probably a Gryffindor streak, he thought, but his pride wouldn't let him step back, no matter how much he wanted to cow in front of his father. Backing down had never helped before. He stilled the quivering in his limbs, and took a deep breath. Here it came. The rant.

"You're a disappointment." His father's voice was slurred, yes, but cold. In vine veritas, was old saying. In wine, truth. Was whiskey really that much different? This was what his father really thought of him, filter removed. Well, his father never had had much of a filter, but that was beside the point. "You've never done anything but let me down! Why did I even bother to conceive you? You're just the incarnate reminder to me of the mistake of marrying your mother. You're the physical - thing - that I have to look at every day, as a living statement of how I was foolish enough to marry that whore and create you. You've done nothing. Nothing. You'll never be anyone. I don't know why you're even still here."

"Neither do I," Severus replied, quietly, looking at the ground, but still not stepping back. He couldn't hold back his shaking any more, but he hoped his father was too drunk to notice. He wasn't sure why he was doing this - making his stand now. It just was happening, and he couldn't control his mouth. Just like his father. "I don't know why I'm here either. If you regret me that much, why don't you just end it now? Why don't you just kill me now? Admit it, that's what you've wanted to do for the past eighteen years."

His father shoved him aside, and Severus stumbled. His father huffed at him, and left. It wasn't like his father to not respond when provoked like that. Usually it ended up badly for him, but he didn't care right now. He was sick of everything. He'd grown up, and he knew that no one would rescue him like they did in the fairy tales. If he wanted to be saved, he'd have to save himself. His father stalked back, revolver in hand. Of course Severus knew what a revolver was and how it worked. His father lowered the revolver at Severus' head. Severus felt his heart rate increase. Well, he had provoked his father into this. He'd better not resist being shot, shouldn't he? He swallowed hard, and closed his eyes. He heard the safety go off the gun, and he began to hold his breath. How holding his breath was going to help, he didn't know. But it was what his instincts told him to do, so he did it.

He cracked an eye open when no shot was forthcoming. He shivered once, as he saw the barrel of the gun aimed right between his eyes. It was only a few inches away. It was close enough that if he tried to focus on the end of the gun, he would go cross eyed.

"Oh, dear God," he prayed silently, "Don't let it end this way." Suddenly the gun was taken away, and his father instead aimed it at his own temple.

"If I kill you," his father said evenly, "then I'll go to jail for murder. Why ever, I'll never know. But they'll have a hard time locking me away if I kill myself. I always knew you'd be the death of me. This way, I won't have to look at you anymore."

"No!" Severus screamed, as he tried to think of what to do. He began to rush at his father, to pull the gun away, but he wasn't fast enough. The gun went off, the bullet burying itself into his father's brain, killing him instantly. He looked into his father's eyes moments after the shot, which was a mistake that haunted him to the present. He saw the dead look in them, and then he saw them roll back as his father's body crumpled to the ground, a pool of blood quickly growing on the floor.

"No, no, no," Severus gasped, as he folded his hands and brought them to his lips. He'd wanted out, yes. He'd been sick of his life, yes. He wanted his father to leave him alone, to never talk to him again, yes. But he didn't want his father to commit suicide - to get away from him. Was he really that bad a son? That his father would take his own life? His breathing rate increased as he tried to hold back the tears that willed their way out. He wasn't sure if he was mourning his sorry excuse of a father, or wallowing in self-pity that he caused this. Whatever it was, he needed to report it. He didn't want his mother walking in to find the body of her dead husband in a puddle of blood at her son's feet.

He picked up the phone. Quickly, he dialed the police, and got someone on the other end.

"Hello?"

"Hello," he said, his voice shaky. "My father - he shot himself."

"Is he alive?" the man on the other end asked.

"No, sir," Severus answered.

"Where do you live?" The policeman wasn't being harsh, in fact, he was being quite kind, Severus thought, but the questions were like salt in a fresh wound.

"Spinner's End," he said, and gave the address.

"And your name?"

"Severus Snape."

"We'll send someone out there right away. I'm sorry for your loss."

"Don't be," Severus said, and hung up.

He leaned against the wall, and sank to the floor, pulling his knees up, as he rested his head on them. Ah, if only his father had shot him. Maybe it would have been better, he thought. "I always knew you'd be the death of me. This way, I won't have to look at you anymore." His father's last words - burned into his mind forever. He'd never forget how his father said them, or the look in his father's eyes as he fell to the ground. He'd never forget seeing the pool of blood grow. He'd never forget how he had caused this. If only he hadn't provoked his father. If only. If only. His whole life was one giant "if only."

His whole body was shaking, and he wasn't making any attempt to hide it. He was in shock, as he stared at the dead body of his father. He rocked himself back and forth, like he used to do as a small child after his father had finished knocking him around. This time, though, his father hadn't laid a hand on him, yet he had managed to knock him harder than ever.

There was a knock on the door, and Severus numbly got up to answer it. There was a man in a uniform there as he opened the door.

"The Snape residence?"

"Yes, sir." His voice was devoid of any emotion or inflection.

"Your father?"

"Right this way, sir."

Not exactly what you'd call a fairy tale ending. Sometimes, though, he had to seek his refuge in the pages of a fairy tale. He needed to believe, sometimes, that there were such happy endings. That something like that was possible. And now was one of those times.

"Harry," Severus said as they began to eat the meal Nitty had laid out for them. It was just a light meal of fruits and vegetables, mainly. Easy for Harry to digest, and high in the vitamins and minerals he needed. "Draco won't be able to come tomorrow after all." He hoped Harry wouldn't take it too hard. Harry didn't have any reaction for a moment, and Severus wondered if Harry had even heard him.

"Alright," Harry said after another moment. Severus should have known Harry would have heard him. The boy had learned to hear quite well, having to hear orders, and hear sounds around his relative's house, learning to interpret them and deduce meanings from them.

"Don't be upset about it," Severus said. "I'm sure it was something quite serious for Draco. He sent a note with his cat. He wouldn't make plans with you and break them like this unless it was something he couldn't avoid."

"I'm sure," Harry said, but Severus noticed the effort in his voice.

"Look," Severus said, exasperated, "I'll go check with Draco after supper and see what will keep him busy tomorrow." Harry nodded, and they finished their meal in silence.

.oO-Oo.

That night, after supper, Severus pulled his cloak around him, and stalked out of the chambers down to the Slytherin common room. After repeating the password, the door opened immediately. He stepped into them, and found his students doing any variety of things, studying and writing essays, to reading, or playing games. But everyone stopped and silence fell as soon as he was over the threshold. It was like some strange magic announced his presence to every student there.

"Mr. Malfoy?" he said to the crowd as he scanned them. Everyone had stopped what they were doing when he came in. His presence could be very intimidating even to his own. But he liked it that way - he commanded their respect.

"Here!" A blonde head shot up from a table in the corner. Draco closed the book he had been reading and jammed it in his school bag. He picked it up and came over to where Severus was standing.

"I need to speak with you." They stepped out of the common room together, and Severus heard the standard chatter begin again as soon as he turned his back. Once they were outside the common room, with the door closed, Severus turned to Draco.

"And why can't you make it tomorrow?"

"I have detention?" Draco winced, making it sound more like a question than a statement.

"All day?"

"Yes, sir."

"And what did you do to get detention? All day?" Severus sounded exasperated. Not only did he not tolerate detentions for his students, (He supported the other professors in their discipline. He just didn't want there to be any cause for discipline.), but this one was coming at a most inconvenient time.

"I - I skipped Transfiguation. Sir," Draco swallowed. Severus raised his eyebrow.

"Do continue," he drawled.

"That was when I found Harry! I couldn't leave him, so I skipped class!"

"And I hope you didn't tell Professor McGonnagall what you had been doing?"

"No, sir," Draco said, shaking his blonde mop emphatically. "She thinks I was just taking advantage of who my father is."

"Alright," Severus said. "I will speak with her, and you will be able to visit Harry tomorrow. Come by in the afternoon, around two."

"Yes, sir," Draco said, smiling. "Thank you, sir."

"Don't think you're getting off though," Severus then growled. "As much as I appreciate your actions to Harry, I don't know why you were where you found him in the first place, but I intend to find out. Monday night, you have detention with me." Draco looked shocked for a moment, and then he hung his head.

"Yes, sir." Severus turned on his heel, making sure his cape billowed out behind him, leaving Draco to find his way back through the common room door and explain that conversation to his peers.

.oO-Oo.

"Minerva McGonnagall!" Severus called as he knocked on her chamber door. Alright, he wasn't nearly as upset as he was putting on. He understood that she should give a student detention when all the facts pointed to having simply skipped the class. He wouldn't even ask that Draco be let off of her punishment permanently. The door opened, and Minerva chuckled at him.

"Severus Snape!" she returned in a tone as mocking as his had been impatient. Severus decided to drop his facade then, since she apparently not buying it, and there was no one else around. He didn't have to keep his act up.

"I need to speak with you. Privately," he added.

"Of course," Minerva said, stepping aside and letting him in. She closed to door behind him, and looked at him expectantly. "What is it?"

"I need you to allow Draco to leave detention tomorrow," he said.

"I thought you were the most disciplinary professor here," she said, confused. "I hope you aren't asking for favors because he's your godson?"

"Absolutely not, woman!" he growled, this time genuine. "I'm not here for myself or for Draco. I'm here for Harry." Minerva gave him a confused look.

"Continue," she said.

"Draco missed his class because he was running an errand for me, in regards to Harry. It was rather unexpected, and I didn't have a chance to give him a note. While he was with Harry though, he promised that he would drop by and see him tomorrow. Harry had his heart set on seeing Draco tomorrow. There's been some - upset, shall we say - and it is vital that Draco be able to come. I am not asking you to lessen your detention with Draco. I simply request that part of it, at least, be put off for another day."

"So that was the 'important something' he told me about," she murmured. "I told him I didn't care if he had an appointment with the Minister. I suppose I should give him that much of a reprieve for Harry's sake."

"I appreciate that, Minerva," Severus said, breathing a sigh of relief.

"I still want him to come to detention in the morning, though," she said. "What time do you need him?"

"Two o'clock," Severus responded.

"Then he will be free by then to visit Harry," she said. "I appreciate you actually coming and stating your problem rather than trying to deal with it yourself." Severus didn't respond, just stood there looking slightly stunned. "You're improving, you know," she continued. "Not trying to solve all of your problems on your own."

"Have a good evening," Severus responded, choosing to ignore Minerva's comments. If only she knew, she wouldn't say he had been improving. But he didn't want to destroy her good image of him, even if it was a lie.

"Good evening," Minerva replied, as Severus showed himself out.

.oO-Oo.

Professor Snape had left to go see what Draco was doing tomorrow that he couldn't see him, Harry. Harry was deeply concerned that it was really that Draco regretted having promised to come over, and was simply making an excuse. How often hadn't he over heard his aunt say that she had a headache when she simply wanted to do something else? It was common for people to tell a convenient lie over an inconvenient truth. If it would be inconvenient for Aunt Petunia to say that she didn't want to have tea with someone, then she would say she had a headache and do whatever else it was she wanted to do, with the convenient lie. Harry felt that perhaps Draco had done the same thing.

Draco could have rethought the incident in the hallway. Maybe he could see Harry for what he was now - now that Harry had added to his injuries himself. Maybe Draco did see that he should have better friends. That he could do better than Harry. He hoped it wasn't the case, but that hope was actually more of a wish. After all, in addition to the hallway incident, Draco did know.

Harry just hoped that Professor Snape wouldn't make Draco come if he didn't want to. Facing a false friend was something Harry didn't think he could bear.

He was sick of the lies. Sick of people who could live with a set of pretty lies. The ugly truths were better, Harry thought, because you could figure out what to do next. If you lived within the lies, you would just create more lies for yourself. If you remembered they were lies, what good did they do you anyway? And if you forgot they were lies, what hope did you have of keeping your sanity? Harry was convinced that the ability to successfully lie to oneself was the mark of insanity. And he might be terrible person, unworthy of the care he was receiving, but he didn't want to be insane.

The door opened, and Professor Snape came in. He quietly took off his cloak, and hung it up on a hook near the door.

"Harry?" he said. "Draco will be able to come by tomorrow after all. Professor McGonnagall had arranged that he spend the day working with her. I arranged with her that she could have Draco help her some other time." Harry caught his breath.

"So he - he still wants to come?" he asked, his voice incredulous.

"Yes, of course he still wants to come, you silly child," Professor Snape said.

He didn't want to explain the concept of detention. At least not now. If he started getting into detention, undoubtedly Harry would start asking about what Draco did to deserve that detention. And explaining that Draco had skipped a class to help him, Harry, wouldn't go over, Severus was sure. It was an example of Draco's friendship, that it in fact was genuine, but Harry wouldn't stand for anyone doing anything for him that would cost the other person.

It wasn't quite a lie he had told Minerva. If he had known that Harry was out of the chambers, and Draco would have been there, able to help, he would have approved of it. In that way, Draco was running an errand for him. It was something he would have asked Draco to do. Well, he would have preferred to deal with it himself, but since that wasn't what happened, Draco was the next best choice.

Harry wasn't stupid, Severus knew, in fact, quite the opposite. Harry would have chosen a deserted hallway or room. Part of the evidence of this was that the castle wasn't filled with rumors about the Boy-Who-Lived having been caught cutting himself, as Severus was sure there would be if anyone else but Harry's friends had found him.

Which led Severus to seriously wonder what Draco had been up to. He had a knack for mischief, Severus knew. Which was one of the reasons he wasn't asking Minerva to totally cancel the detention. He had a suspicion that whatever Draco had been up to that morning, it wasn't something that was allowed by school rules. He would make sure that that was the topic of Draco's detention with him on Monday.

Saturday afternoon came, and so did Draco. Harry was delighted that Draco showed up. Severus had suspected that Harry harbored some fear that Draco still wouldn't actually come.

Draco had brought more candy with him, and after another adventure of catching frogs, Harry and Draco sat on the floor, panting and laughing, licking chocolate off their fingers. Severus was in the next room, and he shook his head slightly and smiled as he listened to the happy sounds coming from his main room. He was glad that Harry could be happy at least for a few minutes.

"That was fun," Draco laughed.

"Would you like to flying?" Severus asked, suddenly behind the couch. He startled both of them, and they jumped. He had come out of his office, and now smirked at their expressions. Draco snorted and burst into giggles, but Harry couldn't see the humor.

"What's funny?"

"You realize what we look like?" Draco laughed. When Harry didn't react, Draco calmed his laughter. "It's funny, trust me."

"Alright," Harry said.

"So would you like to go flying?" Severus asked.

"Yes, sir!" Draco said, after a moment of hesitation from Harry.

The three of them went outside, through Severus' portal, Draco borrowing a school broom, and Harry with his specially enchanted broom. They flew around, Harry's broom feeding off of Severus' magic. Draco began to show Harry various tricks on the brooms, as the two of them began to choreograph two person spirals and dips.

Ah, it was moments like this where Severus was reminded that not everything in Harry's life had to be dark and horrible. He could see that Harry was enjoying the afternoon with Draco immensely, as was Draco. This was how it was supposed to be. This was how children were supposed to behave. At least wizard children, but all the children should be laughing, carefree, unburdened by a past of abuse. Severus smiled as he watched the two boys tumbling through the air, happy in each others' company.