The world was melting around him. The woods, once silent, aside from the chirping of birds and buzzing of insects, was now filled with the ceaseless sound of dripping water. Droplets fell onto his head from the canopy of trees above, almost as if there were a steady, slow rain. His boots crunched the snow below as he followed the trails that crossed through the forest before shooting off into different directions.

The world is melting, he mused. How strange.

In these woods, Harry was not The Boy Who Lived or The Heir of Slytherin or "Boy!" or The Winner of the Triwizard Cup. He was just a wanderer.

The sound of flowing water woke Harry from his musings. The small streams that he would usually walk beside or jump over were now rushing to life. The clay that lay at the bottom of these ravines colored the water a bright orange color that almost appeared red. In contrast to the blanket of white and muted browns and greens, it was a bit unsettling really, however it did not appear out of place to Harry. Gushing crimson water somehow suited a world that was melting.

Images flew to his mind of his own blood, dripping onto the wooden floor of the cupboard or into the grass in the Dursley's backyard.

Stop it, Harry. You don't get to feel sad. You're the reason people are dead. Mum. Dad. Cedric. Sirius. NO!. Stop. Weapons don't feel. You are Harry Potter. Harry Potter does not feel.

As the path that Harry traveled leveled off, he knew that he was close to its' end, a fact that was soon confirmed by a sudden rising that made the back of his calves twinge. Using a hanging tree limb, Harry hoisted himself over the ground above him, no longer surrounded by compacted frozen soil, but now instead by a fluffier snow, which he knew covered a mound of rocks. He had reached the tracks.

To Harry, walking along the eroding railway always evoked a strange and primitive peace. It was an entity that appeared endless and suited to those prone to wandering. Harry had been a wanderer his whole life. It was this truth that Harry pondered as he balanced himself on the steel rail of the track, knowing that he might fall at any given point, due to the thin layer of ice that coated the cold steel. He did not care. Taking the sole of his black boot, Harry broke through the layer before slowly sliding off the layer following his indent. It was in this fashion that Harry walked the tracks for the next hour before realizing that he should turn around and return to his dormitory. He had homework to do and was sure to need a shower as the snow had somehow managed to worm its way through his protective layers, wetting his socks, pants, and thermal shirt in the process. The smell of frozen earth mingled with sweat was not a pleasant one, regardless of how comforting it was.

Four hours after leaving the grounds, Harry could be seen climbing up the snow covered hill that leveled out to reveal the bank of the lake and a canoe laying in the sand. Anyone paying attention on this still evening would see a fifteen year old boy, who looked much closer to twelve, with soggy blue jeans and a black coat; his cheeks and nose dark pink from the cold, and his deep, green eyes staring blankly ahead behind crooked spectacles, brow furrowed in thought. Drops of moisture slid down from the frozen ends of his black hair, which he wiped away absentmindedly as they reached his eyes and blurred his vision. At a glance, one might take in the boy's appearance and think him to have always been around these woods, or some woods, as a hatchet rested holstered on his brown belt, and his flannel shirt collar poked out above his thermal and under his coat.

However, he was not a native and nobody was watching.

Harry walked through the corridor and up the steps that led to his room. Taking off his boots outside and wiggling out of the soggy socks, Harry grabbed a towel and stepped into the bathroom, revealing various stalls containing both showers and toilets. Stepping behind the curtain, Harry turned on the hot water, lathering his soap generously before standing with his eyes closed for the next ten minutes. As the soap pooled at his feet and into the drain, Harry once again pondered his scattered thoughts. The world is melting.

He smiled a smile that did not reach his eyes.

Severus Snape watched as the Brat Who Lived made his way back to the castle. He had to admit that the boy had been worrying him. He rarely made meals, never talked back, and was never seen with the Know it All or the Red Headed slob.

Must be missing his mutt.

Pushing aside uncomfortable feelings of concern, Severus got back to grading his papers.

Dumbledore will give him a peptalk and one of those infernal candies. This is not my job.

Early in the morning, Harry awoke feeling ill with a dull ache in his stomach. Long accustomed to hunger pains, he opened the curtain to his bed, slipped on his glasses, and quickly dressed in his school robe, keeping on the same shirt he had worn to bed. Tugging on battered trainers, he groggily set out to make it to breakfast before any of his friends woke up.

I should start trying again, he thought miserably. I can't make myself be normal anymore.  Stupid. Freak. Murderer. Stop it.

Looking down, he realized that his fists were clenched and quickly shoved them into his pockets, avoiding eye contact of other early risers at rivaling tables. Sitting down at the end of the table, closest to the exit, Harry picked up a piece of toast and carefully spread jam on it. He took a bite and washed it down with tea, wincing as the food hit his empty stomach.

Looking up, he realized that some of the professors had come in and were seated. The Headmaster himself was staring openly at Harry, offering a tentative smile when their eyes met. Blushing, Harry quickly looked down as a scene played before his eyes.

Dumbledore's office ripped apart by accidental magic. "Well, some accidental," he thought, embarrassed.

Picking up a piece of bacon, Harry nibbled before setting it down again.

I can't do this. Everything tastes like cardboard. I quit.

Picking up an apple, Harry quickly exited The Great Hall, eyes cast downward at his own feet.

He missed the worried looks exchanged by the Headmaster and his head of house.

It's too early to be alive, Snape thought bitterly.

Dumbledore had asked him to meet for breakfast in The Great Hall in order to discuss his plans on picking up where Umbridge had left off in the Defense Against the Dark Arts course. He was to replace the woman and was not looking forward to it. The Toad had taught students virtually nothing before mysteriously disappearing. When questioned, Dumbledore offered no explanation as to her whereabouts, aside from an annoying eye twinkle and goofy grin.

 Dumbledore had been reinstated after that dunderhead Fudge realized that The Dark Lord had, in fact, returned.

Finally took his head out of his a...

His thoughts were interrupted as he collided with a mop of black hair which hit his chest roughly.

"Umph! Watch where you are going! I should take house points! Mr....Potter?"

Harry looked up, a frown on his face, eyes wide.

"Professor Snape, I'm sorry," He offered quietly. "I wasn't paying much attention. Taking points would be fair. Sorry...sir."

Severus looked down curiously at the boy, at a loss for words after such a meek apology.  Bending down, he picked up a bruised apple which had rolled over and hit his black boot. Quickly extending his hand, he offered it to the boy.

Harry flinched violently. Stupid stupid stuoid, He berated himself. Extending his hand, he swiftly grabbed the apple, mumbled a quiet "thank you sir,"  and rushed passed his baffled professor.

Severus stared after the rumpled boy with a furrowed brow.

What the hell was that?

Once out of eyesight, Harry ran through the corridor and didn't stop until he heard the distinct, high pitched sobbing of Moaning Myrtle. His feet had taken him to the haunted, unused, girls bathroom.

What is happening to me? Why did I flinch? I stopped doing that first year. Stupid, Stupid. I'm losing it. I'm...

"Harry Potter," Myrtle cried out, all traces of tears completely gone. "Why has it been so long since you've visited me?"

"Myrtle," Harry winced, attempting to conjure language amidst the swirling thoughts in his mind. "Please, Myrtle. Do you think....I could be alone? Please."

Myrtle huffed and began flying circles above the bathroom stalls, coming in and out of a toilet, causing water to shoot out near Harry's feet.

"I promise to bring friends the next time I come," Harry said, attempting to live up the Sorting Hat's original choice his first year at Hogwarts. "I know some real fine blokes, Myrtle, honest. Please."

Harry knew that this last word came out in a whine, but he was reaching his breaking point and didn't want to explode with Myrtle in his vicinity.

I can't do this. Please leave. Just leave, please, Harry thought desperately.

"Oooh-lala," Myrtle purred, raising her eyebrows up and down repeatedly. She giggled before squeaking, "Deal!" and promptly flying up through the ceiling, out of sight.

"Well, that happened," Harry said aloud, looking down at the flooded bathroom floor.  He began pacing as thoughts swirled in his head.

I should be catching up on homework. I'm so behind. Why did I flinch? What is happening to me? Why can't I be okay right now? I've always been okay. Should I try...NO. I'm Harry Potter. Bloody, Harry Potter. People around me die. I can't talk to anybody. What if I lose it? I can't do this. I can't. Why can't I just be normal? Be normal. Such a freak? Why...I can't...UGH!

The thoughts threatened to consume him as the pain and isolation he was feeling hit a crescendo. He didn't want to cry. He wouldn't. But he had to do something.

Harry stopped Pacing as he approached the mirrors. The water on the floor rippled, the stall doors rattling as he struggled to control his emotions. Going to the sink, Harry looked in the mirror and noted the panicked look in his tired, green eyes.

"Some savior," Harry bitterly spat. He needed to feel something physical. He needed to not feel. Before he could think, he began striking out at the mirror before slowing to a stop as his right knuckle rested on the cool glass.

Wand hand. The savior can't be without his bloody wand hand, now can he?

Harry let out a scream that was more of a groan, before punching his reflection with his left hand. The glass cracked, but didn't shatter. He repeated the process with a bathroom stall door, a loud boom filling the room as it slammed into another stall.

He sank to the floor, in a fit of sobs, his left hand stinging mercilessly. Focusing on the pain in his hand, he quickly ceased crying, letting his whole being become nothing but a painful, throbbing, hand.

Severus Snape watched as a class of fifth year Gryffindor filed into the Defence Against the Dark Arts  classroom.  Shuddering slightly at the sight of Longbottom, Severus remained standing in front of a black chalk board, staring at the students stoically.

As the last of the students trickled in, Severus became focused on a disheveled Potter who wandered in with his head down and his hands in his pockets, taking a seat in the back. He noticed the Granger girl and Weasley boy whisper greetings his way, to which he responded with a small nod and a half-smile.

How very strange indeed, Severus thought, before picking up some chalk and writing on the board.

"Unfortunately," Severus drawled with an annoyed expression, "the Headmaster has asked me instruct you in another subject. I expect you to pay full attention to instruction, as it is not my desire to send anybody to the hospital wing, due to misfired hexes..."

He paused to glare in the direction of Neville, who in turn colored and looked down at his desk.

"Today we will be working on utilizing protective spells in combat. I have written some pointers on the board for those of you who lack knowledge, or are simply incompetent. You will attempt to render your partner unable to attack by the end of your dual. You will spend the first part of class practicing, and the second with the previously stated goal in mind. Begin." With this, Severus raised his wand, the desks disappearing, and the floor somehow becoming transfigured padded matting.

Harry was grateful that the class would be more physical than mental, as he was in no state to concentrate.

"Harry," he heard someone say. Turning around, he realized that it was Ron. "Partners?" Ron asked, uncertainly, as if he expected to be declined.

Conflicted, Harry let a smile play on his face before nodding. "Yeah, alright."

Losing himself in their exchange of hexes and shields, Harry laughed for the first time in a long time as a hex got through Ron's shield, turning his hair green. Ron smiled, leaving his hair green after seeing his friend look untroubled for the first time since the battle at the ministry. "You prat," he tossed out affectionately.

Hermione glanced over from where she was dueling long enough to notice the two boys. The boys are back, she thought with a grin.

Severus watched the students dual, as wands flew into the air and students fell to the ground. The second half of class was nearly over.  Using his wand, he flickered the lights in order to get the students attention.

"IMMOBOLUS!"

 "Wha..."

Seeming to miss the cue picked up by the rest of the class, Severus watched as Longbottom fired his spell, the Granger girl using some form of wordless magic in order to deflect it. Deflected, the spell hit Potter who, realizing what had happened to late, lifted up his left arm in a mock block, his wand still aimed at Weasley.

Severus strode over to their side of the room.

"10 points from Gryffindor for inattention Longbottom." He was loathe to admit that Granger's reflexes were most impressive, but would be damned if the Lion's ever received points from him!

Glancing over to end the spell on Potter, a flicker of surprise appeared in his eyes before he schooled his features and ended the spell.

"You are to turn in a five page essay on shielding spells by next period. I expect it to be both informative and thorough. Dismissed. Mr. Potter...stay behind."

He noticed Granger and Weasley's curious glances as they exited, but focused his attention on a deflated potter. The last of the students left the room, and he took a step closer to the boy.

"Your hand, Mr. Potter."

Confused, Harry held out his right hand, glancing nervously into Snape's eyes, and back down again.

"Your other hand."

Realization appeared as Harry quickly thought of a way to avoid the upcoming situation.

"I haven't got all day, Mr. Potter."

Defeated, Harry lifted his hand.

"Why, may I ask, does your hand look as if it has been run over by a muggle vehicle?"

Thinking on his feet, Harry responded, "A bludger sir. I got hit during practice. It happens all the time. Heals right up."

Taking in the boys quick words, Severus knew that the boy was lying. However, at the moment he was focused more on something else.

"Very well. Mr. Potter, did the bludger happen to also pick up and knife and carve into your hand, ‘I must not tell lies?' Or have you been subjected to a blood quill?"

Harry gulped. He hadn't expected this at all. "Yes sir," he responded quietly.

"Yes there are bludgers capable of literacy, or yes you have been subjected to the blood quill? Speak up," Severus responded, growing impatient.

"The quill sir," Harry replied.

"Under which professor did this occur?" Severus questioned.

"Why do you care?" Harry questioned, sounding much more himself than Severus had seen in ages. He didn't know whether to be angry or relieved.

"Sit down Mr. Potter. I am able to remain here all day until you deem it fit to reveal to me exactly what has transpired." Severus waved his wand, the classroom appearing as it had initially, and began to manually erase the board.

Harry was angry all of a sudden, and the feeling surprised him. He watched Snape erase the board.

 "It was Umbridge," Harry said suddenly. "During her detentions. She said that I was making things up about Vold..."

"Don't say his name Mr. Potter," Snape said, quickly turning around.

Harry glared. "...about you know who."

"Tell me Mr. Potter," Snape began in a harsh tone, "Did you not think to tell anybody? Your head of house, for example,  or the Headmaster?" Snape was angry at the woman. Certainly not for the boy's sake, he thought quickly. Some of my students had detention with the Toad.

When his only response was a look of defiance, Snape continued. "Is the famous Harry Potter too good to ask others for help? You wouldn't want to look weak in front of your adoring fans."

Harry's knuckles were clenched and he struggled to reign in his temper.

"Did it not occur to you, Mr. Potter, that you are not the only human being on the planet and that other students were experiencing this as well?" Snape watched the boy, his temper getting the better of him as he saw the boy that reminded him so much of the boy's father.

"Yes sir," Harry gritted through his teeth, visibly restraining himself.

"Then, I must once again pose the question, why not ask for help?"

That was it. Harry snapped.

"ASK FOR HELP?!" Harry screamed. He couldn't think, as the words poured out of his mouth. He was so angry. "IT'S MY BLOODY FAULT THAT THE ADULTS WERE BLIND TO WHAT UMBRIDGE WAS DOING? IT'S MY BLOODY FAULT THAT DUMBLEDORE WAS IGNORING MY EXISTENCE AND THAT MCGONAGALL TOLD ME TO LAY LOW? ASK FOR HELP? WHAT BLOODY GOOD DOES ASKING FOR HELP DO? IT DIDN'T WORK FIRST YEAR WITH THE STONE. IT DIDN'T WORK SECOND YEAR WHEN EVERYBODY THOUGHT I WAS THE NEXT VOLDEMORT. IT DIDN'T WORK WHEN CED....WHEN CEDRIC DIED AND I TOLD YOU THAT I DIDN'T PUT MY NAME IN THE CUP. IT DOESN'T WORK WHEN I DON'T WANT TO GO BACK TO THE DURSLEY'S EVERY SUMMER OR WHEN I AM HONEST ABOUT THEM. SO IT'S MY FUALT. OF COURSE IT IS! EVERYTHING IS MY FAULT. MY PARENTS DEATH. CEDRIC. S...SIRIUS. EVERYTHING! YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT I DID WRONG?" Harry did not wait for an answer. "I EXIST! I WAS BLOODY BORN. WELL GUESS WHAT SNAPE?! I DIDN'T BLOODY ASK TO BE BLOODY BORN!"

Harry coughed as his throat protested against the steady screaming he had done. To his embarrassment, he realized that his face was wet from tears that had streamed down his cheeks. Breathing heavily, he looked up at Snape, whose face was undecipherable, before quickly turning around and sprinting through the door.

For the second time that day, Severus stared after the enigma that is Harry Potter, and asked himself the question,

What the hell just happened?

Harry ran his fastest, his breath coming out in short bursts. Adrenalyn pumped through his veins.

Bloody Snape...What did I just...Did I mention the Dursley's?...Oh, Merlin...I screamed at Snape of all...detention for the rest of my...got to get out...safe place...the tracks...

 Harry's scattered thoughts flashed to and fro as his emotions reached a painful crescendo. 

I need to get out of here.

Ron and Hermione hung back behind the corner of the corridor, waiting for Harry to come out of the classroom. Moments later, they heard muffled screaming and listened intently as they recognized the voice of their best friend. Before they were able to react, the door to the Defense room flung open as Harry sprinted passed their corner unseeingly, a panicked look on his face. 

 "He was crying," Hermione said, looking at Ron's ashen face with concern. "I haven't seen him that upset since he saw Sirius..." She paused, remembering the night at the ministry, and fell silent.

 Ron remained quiet before stepping in the direction that their friend had just run in. "I'm done giving him bloody space, Hermione. I'm going after him."

For once, Hermione had nothing to say and instead gave one, brief nod.

 Severus snapped out of his stupor seconds after the boy fled, his mind processing what had occurred. The shouted words lingered. The boy had a point.

 First year, second year...how many times have we neglected to listen...wait a minute..."when I didn't want to stay with the Dursleys or when I was honest about them."

Severus moved toward the door.

Harry walked along the tracks, attempting to compose himself. Startled, he heard a noise in the distance. The ground shook and he hopped off of the steel railway, onto a bank of rocks and dirt. In the distance he saw a train...the Hogwarts Express!

This hasn't happened before.

As the train approached, Harry felt childlike excitement, his bright green eyes wide in wonder. 

Whoa! At this rate it's going to pass right by me any minute. Harry sobered.

Before he knew what was happening, he stepped back into the middle of the tracks.

 What am I...can't do this...my fault...I'm just Harry...just Harry...just...I...NO!

A horn blared and Harry turned around, leaping over the rail before stumbling onto the rocks. The sound of metal scraping metal filled the air as well as an unnerving hissing. His black hair was blown into his face, despite the fact that his arms were crossed in front of him, hands palms out as if to shield. He held his eyes closed as his senses were overwhelmed, and for a brief moment, Harry did not know if he was going to make it.

As suddenly as it had come, the sounds faded and the wind died down. He looked up just in time to see the train disappear around the bend, trees blocking his sight.

A strange, choked noise filled the silence, and as another followed, Harry realized it was his own sobbing. 

 Oh Merlin...I almost...I...I...

Sitting on the rock mound, Harry pulled his knees to his chest, resting his forehead on top of them. He continued to sob until he could no longer breathe. He was a mess of tears and mucus. Stretching out his sore legs, Harry shifted uncomfortably as he opened his eyes, blinking repeatedly as he strained to adjust to the sunlight.

"Mr. Potter...we have much to discuss."

Oh Merlin...I almost...I...I...

Sitting on the rock mound, Harry pulled his knees to his chest, resting his forehead on top of them. He continued to sob until he could no longer breathe. He was a mess of tears and mucus. Stretching out his sore legs, Harry shifted uncomfortably as he opened his eyes, blinking repeatedly as he strained to adjust to the sunlight.

"Mr. Potter...we have much to discuss."

Harry started as a voice penetrated the silence.  His heart plummeted as he looked up quickly towards the voice. Squinting against the sunlight, Harry locked eyes with none other than Albus Dumbledore.

Shit.

To the right of the Headmaster stood Snape, dressed in his customary black robes and pants. The bright clearing made him appear all the more intimidating, and Harry quickly looked away from his calculating stare. Looking down at his own hands, he realized that he was trembling and clenched them, hoping that the two men would not notice. He searched for an explanation, and only realized that he had been silent for several minutes when the Headmaster spoke again.

"Harry." 

The mere name was conveyed with such emotion, that Harry found himself unable to resist looking up into the sad, blue eyes of Dumbledore. The sparkle that always occupied his eyes appeared dim, and his eyes glistened. 

No. No. This can't happen.

"Sir," Harry began, horsely. "I um..."

Think, Harry. THINK.

Seconds ticked away, until Harry heard the clearing of a throat. Following the noise, Harry saw Severus staring at him with the same look as before, as if assessing. 

"Well Potter?" Snape asked, coldly.

As anger rose up, Harry felt himself taking control again and put on a cocky grin. This always worked.

"Professor," Harry nodded. "Sorry to have startled you two. I come here a lot when I get bored, which is surprisingly, quite often." Harry was met with a familiar sneer and felt confident to continue. "I saw the train coming. That hasn't happened before. Whoa!" Avoiding his eyes, Harry shot the headmaster a playful grin before continuing. "Back home, there's a muggle game called 'chicken,' where we see who can get closest to a moving motorcar without getting hit. You know, Gryffindor bravery and all that. Anyway, I saw the train and figured, why not? I've faced worse." Finishing his monologue with a wink, Harry chanced a look at Dumbledore. 

 The Headmaster's eyes remained sad, and a single tear trailed down his wrinkled cheek. Harry felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him and quickly looked down again. 

 "I am sorry," Harry repeated remorsefully. Brushing off his knees, he used his right arm to propel himself upward before bending his knees and pushing off.

 "Ah!" A pained cry filled the clearing, and as he stood up, the ground seemed to rise up to meet Harry, his ankle feeling as if it were on fire. A second passed before Harry opened his eyes and realized that he was being held up by two, strong arms, holding him by his underarms. He was gently guided back into a sitting position, and he looked up to see the Headmaster looking down on him calmly.

"You are hurt, Harry. Hold still." As Dumbledore raised his wand, Harry found himself bracing himself, eyes shut tightly, his body rigid.

 "Harry," the headmaster's voice said, gently. Opening his eyes, he was once again met with the sad, questioning stare of Dumbledore. "I am just going to cast a diagnostic spell to assess your ankle and make sure you weren't hurt elsewhere."

Harry swallowed and nodded, embarrassed.

As a white glow outlined his body, Harry felt a tingling and noticed that some parts of his body were outlined in red. The glow faded, and the Headmaster conjured a piece of parchment, tapping it with the tip of his wand. As he read, he quickly looked down to Harry, as if startled, before putting the parchment in his robes and addressing him calmly again. 

"Your ankle is broken, Harry." Pausing, Dumbledore glanced to Severus, as if trying to make a decision. Nodding to himself, Dumbledore resumed. "You also have previous head trauma, a badly bruised knuckle, scraped knees, an improperly healed rib, an improperly healed shoulder break, severe malnutrition, and heavy scarring on your back." 

As he read through the list, Harry felt his heart beat increase rapidly as he looked from Dumbledore to Snape. The Headmaster ended, meeting him with a look so full of concern that Harry almost failed to notice the widening of Snape's eyes, before he schooled his face back into impassivity.

"Harry," Dumbledore began.

No. No. They can't know. They can't...

"Harry, it's alright, we..." 

"No! No. No." His breaths became erratic, and his chest felt as if it were on fire all of a sudden.

I can't breathe. I can't...

"Harry, calm down. You are having a panic attack." Large hands came towards him, and Harry hid his head in his knees, arms blocking his head. His pants echoed in the clearing and he panicked as his lungs screamed.

 Before he knew what was happening, arms pulled him from behind and he was pressed against something warm and firm. He fought, scared, until his energy was gone and he felt as if he might pass out. Looking up, he saw the pained look of the Headmaster and flushed.

"In...out. In...out." A calm, voice spoke gentle into his right ear and he felt the chest that he was pressed against rumble. "That's it. In...out." Harry matched his breathing to the instruction and felt relief as air entered his screaming lungs. Sagging backward, he noticed for the first time that the arms that encircled him were covered in a thick, black material that smelled of spices and herbs. 

Snape!

Cheeks coloring, Harry fought to be released before the voice continued: "Stop. You're going to bring on another attack. In..out. In...out. That's it." Harry stopped fighting. 

"Open your mouth." When Harry made no move to comply, Snape clarified: "Calming draught." 

Harry opened his mouth and felt the liquid run down his throat, making a face at its bitter taste. He felt it enter his system as his muscles relaxed and his mind became hazy. 

The world went black.

Harry awaoke groggilly when he heard the voice of his friends.

"We're his best friends! He needs us! We..."

"...needs to heal...he...."

"Come on Hermione....sleeping....come back later..."

Nodding in and out of consciousness, Harry realized that he had no idea what was happening. He couldn't bring himselt to care.

Harry continued to go in and out of consciousness as the Infirmary bustled around him. He vaguely realized that his shirt was off and that he was on his stomach as a cool lotion was rubbed onto his back. He also noticed that his ankle was stiff and numb. More liquids were massaged down his throat. Harry slept.

Opening his eyes again, Harry was met with nothing but darkness. A graveyard flashed into his mind as he remembered the last time he had felt so disoriented, after being portkeyed from the maze.

Harry frantically felt around his bed for his wand and anything else.

"Mr. Potter. You are in the infirmary. You are quite safe. Lumos."

A white glow revealed Snape seated beside his bed on a wooden chair. Everything beyond him was blurry, but Harry couldn't bring himself to ask for his glasses.

Looking up, he realized just how close Snape was. His mind brought back the train and what had happened in the clearing.

Playing chicken...Oh Harry...Strong arms holding...Breathe...In...out...In...Oh merlin.

Groaning, Harry laid back again, shielding his face with his hands.

"Are you in pain?" Snape asked, with a hint of concern in his voice.

Hearing it, Harry forgot his embarrassment and blinked up at Snape, confused.

"No sir."

"Good. We treated your ankle, which is braced, and dosed you with a strong calming draught, healing potion, and nutritive potion. We also applied an anti-scarring salve to your back."

Ankle...potion...salve...salve...SHIT.

Realizing that someone had seen his back, Harry began to panic again his breathing speeding up, even as the calming draught fought to calm him.

"Potter. Potter. Merlin Potter, it is alright. Breathe. In...out. In..out. In...out. Good."

Taking in a shaking breath, Harry continued to attempt to make sense of what was happening.

He's being nice? Why? Why is he being so nice to me?

"Why are you being nice?" Realizing that he had spoken aloud, Harry's eyes widened before he picked at the hem of his white pyjama top.

Harry hear Snape take a deep breath, and chanced a glance at him. 

Snape was staring intently at his own hands. "It appears I have been...mistaken in my presuppositions concerning you." Snape glanced at him with dark eyes and was met with furrowed brows and an expression of confusion. He paused before continuing. "You are clearly not pampered...or arrogant. The scars..." Snape ignored Harry's flinch and continued, "...indicate a less than desireable home life. The train..."

"It was a game. A muggle game. Chicken..." Harry babbled and was quickly cut off by an angry voice.

"You are an idiot if you believe that either the Headmaster or I beleived that pathetic excuse for an explanation of your blatanly suicidal ideation." Noticing Harry's distress, Snape's expression appeared to soften before continuing. "You are in no state to live in the tower on your own."

Taking a deep breath, Harry bravely interrupted. "I'll be sent back to my relatives then?" His voice sounded calm. Detached, but calm. As he looked down to pick at his sleeve again, he missed the murderous look that took over the professors features. He did not, however, miss the hatred in his voice.

"You. Will. Not. Return. To. Those. Muggles." The words were ground out, and Harry looked up, surprised, as he realized that Snape was angry on his behalf. "You will be joining me in my quarters until you can be trusted on your own."

Still under the influence of the calming draught, Harry stated the obvious. "You're angry."

Snape appeared startled and replied indignantly. "I am not heartless, Potter. Anybody that harms a child is an abomination not fit populate God's green earth."

"I wasn't..." Harry began.

"Don't." Snape interrupted angrily. "You do not have to speak of it just yet, but you will not lie for or defend those muggles."

Harry looked down, guiltily and swallowed, wetting his lips with his tongue. Suddenly, the world seemed too heavy. Nothing made sense. There was no way out. And now, everyone knew. 

"Why?" Harry repeated in a distressed whisper. He didn't know if Snape would understand the question. Hell, he didn't understand the question.

"Because, Mr.Potter." Snape replied in a matter of fact voice. "You are not your father."

Harry was startled as a fire flared in his chest. An anger that was strong and consuming. He glared at his own hands. 

"I look just like him. I'm arrogant and impulsive..." as he spoke, his volume increased. "People adore me for something I didn't even do. I'm wreckless and stupid and incompetent and weak. I ruin everything I touch. People die..." as his voice broke, he finished with a quiet whisper. "I'm a freak."

He felt a hand wrap around his wrist and realized that he had closed his eyes. Opening them, he saw five thin fingers enclosed around his wrist. Looking up, Harry met the eyes of his professor. 

Severus looked down into the tearful green eyes of Harry Potter. Without his glasses, the boy looked to be a mere twelve years old. His eyes, so much like Lily's, were not bright as they had been upon walking into the Great Hall his first year. No. They were dark and troubled. He was broken.

"You are not to believe a word that those abominable muggles have ever spoken. If I hear that word again, I will assign lines." 

The boy nodded. 

"You are not your father. You are not a freak. You are not the grim reaper." Severus spoke the words with conviction. 

The boy looked down at his hands again, biting his lip, hard. Severus realized that he was trying not to cry. He suddenly felt very much out of his depth.

Looking at the wall in front of him, Severus attempted to make sense of everything that had transpired.

I'm sorry Lily. I promised. I...

His self-condemnation was interrupted by a loud yawn. Severus looked down to see Harry rubbing his eyes tiredly before running his bandaged left hand through his hair. He stopped, rubbing it gingerly as if suddenly aware of its existence.

"Leave it Potter. Sleep. The draught is still working its way through your system."

The boy looked up at Severus with sleepy, confused eyes, as if he had no idea why the man was there. "Sleep Potter."

Severus leaned back in his chair, reaching for a book that he had left on a nightstand. As he opened the book and found his page, he heard a mumble. 

"I'm Harry. Just Harry. Just..." He watched as the boy drifted off.

"Goodnight, Harry."

Harry nibbled on his dry toast absentmindedly, pausing to occasionally pick at his scrambled eggs. Madame Pomfrey had lectured him on his eating habits, and he did not need another session with mother hen.

"Harry!"

Startled, Harry looked up to see his friends coming towards him, his face breaking out into a grin. He quickly set his unfinished breakfast on the nightstand beside him, pushing aside a bottle of salve. Suddenly, he remembered his reason for being in the Hospital Wing and became nervous. Before he could work himself up, however, he was smothered in a brown blanket of hair that could only be Hermione's.

"We've missed you! We've been so worried!" Each word was punctuated by an increase in pressure as she hugged him tightly, until he couldn't breathe.

"Hermione...Hermione, can you...I'm alright," Harry gasped out.

She released him and Ron stepped forward uncertainly. As if making a decision, he took another deliberate step forward, and with a confident look, embraced Harry quickly as Harry had seen him do to his brothers on occasion. When he was finished, he took a step back and grinned self-consciously.

"Sorry, mate. We really were worried."

Harry smiled broadly before muttering a genuine, "Thanks Ron."

"Harry," Hermione interrupted. "Are you...okay?" The atmosphere quickly changed from one of reunification to serious and somber.

"I am, Hermione. I broke my ankle and got some scrapes, but Madame Pomfrey's healing them right up." He motioned towards his ankle and body, and then to his breakfast tray. "She's also my honorary calorie counter apparently."

Ron smiled sympathetically and nodded. "I'm glad you're alright."

"Me too," Harry replied earnestly.

Hermione stood silent with a serious expression before continuing. "Harry, I'm more worried about how you are actually doing. In the clearing..."

Harry's heart dropped. They couldn't have been there...

"Hermione," Ron cut in to stop her.

"No Ronald! Harry, in the clearing we saw you..."

Merlin, they did. They know that I'm barmy and that I...I'm so stupid. I am a fr...

__________________________________________________

Severus flood into the infirmary to check on the boy, and was surprised to find that he already had company. Staying near the fireplace, Severus listened as the three remained oblivious to his presence. He was surprised by the Weasley boy's sudden maturity as he hugged his friend, and the side of his mouth quirked up at the mention of Madam Pomfrey. When he heard the girl mention the clearing, however, he took an unconscious step forward, relieved when she was interrupted by Weasley. When she continued determinedly, Severus took another step forward, allowing him to see the boy.

Potter looked very small in his white pajamas, sitting against the headboard of the bed, and a protective instinct took over in Severus. The boy was looking at his hands and appeared to be lost in thought, oblivious to Granger's barrage of questions. The only thing that indicated that he was in distress at all was the way in which he bit his lip.

That has to be painful. The boy will draw blood.

Severus spoke.

________________________________________

A loud voice cut into Harry's self-condemnation.

"Granger. Weasley. I believe class begins in ten minutes. Do run along." Out of nowhere, Snape stepped forward interrupting the inquiry.

"But..." Hermione began.

"Now Ms. Granger, before I begin taking away house points." Snape's expression and commanding voice left no room for argument, and Hermione nodded before quickly telling Harry that she'd see him soon.

Ron trailed behind her, pausing as he looked worriedly from Snape to his best friend.

Noticing his friend's concern, Harry said, "I'll be fine Ron. Trust me. And...thanks." Ron nodded and left the infirmary.

When they were out of sight, Snape walked passed Harry and towards Madame Pomfrey's office.

"Sir?" Harry called after him timidly.

Snape paused. "Yes, Mr. Potter?"

"Thank you." Harry replied.

Severus turned around, his expression blank. "Whatever for?"

Harry hadn't expected that. Maybe a quick ‘You're welcome,' or no response at all perhaps, but not a question. "For stopping...for...for..." Harry stuttered.

For telling my friends to leave? No. For not letting them find out that I...I can't talk about it. For...

"You are quite welcome Mr. Potter."

Harry had become lost in his thoughts again and failed to notice that Snape was now right next to his bed, standing above him. He became nervous and fidgeted with his blanket, biting his lip. Before he knew what was happening, he saw a hand come towards him in his peripheral and ducked clenching his eyes shut. When nothing happened, he slowly raised his head and looked at his professor.

The hand remained still halfway between the two, as if paused midair. Harry blushed. When Harry had relaxed, Severus continued without reacting to his response. He gently grabbed the boy's chin, pulling his lip down from his teeth with a thumb.

"You are not to hurt yourself when in distress." Snape said sternly. Harry blushed further.

"Yes sir."

Snape's expression softened momentarily before he said, "Pack your things and change clothes. We will be heading to my quarters after I am done talking to Madame Pomfrey. If you need help with something, simply ask."

Harry nodded, warmed by Snape's concern and actions. Suddenly he realized..."Sir, shouldn't you be teaching today?"

"Somebody else will be teaching my classes today and next week..." Pausing, Severus continued. "Or for longer if needed."

"Today and...what day is it, sir?" Harry asked, confused.

"It is Friday. You have been in the infirmary since Monday evening."

"Oh." Harry replied, confused. When he realized that Snape had not left, he added, "I thought it had only been a day or two."

Severus nodded and turned to go again before Harry spoke again. "Why are you taking off for so long, sir?"

Turning his head, Severus furrowed his eyebrows and replied matter-of-factly, "To take care of you, silly boy."

Silly boy...Silly boy...What? That wasn't an insult. He didn't call me stupid. That was almost...affectionate. No way. Wait...to take care of me?

"Sir...you don't have to. I mean...it's not your job. It's...I'm okay." Harry smiled weakly.

Severus shook his head, his eyes looking sad for a moment before he turned again.

"Pack your things, Harry," he called over his shoulder.

_______________________________________

Harry followed Severus through the dungeons and to his office. As they stepped inside, Harry noticed the pensive in the corner and stopped walking.

"Sir..." he began, voice laced with regret.

Severus stopped walking and turned around with a concerned expression. When he saw the boy looking at the pensive, he sighed.

"I'm sorry about looking at your memories. I swear it wasn't on purpose. I didn't know that they..." he trailed off, before swallowing.

Sirius.

Severus watched as the boy closed himself off once again. Thinking about the incident, Severus pushed away his anger at the boy, instead focusing on the apologetic way he had regarded him since. Aside from the night he had urged him to save Black, the boy had been meek.

Black.

Severus took a step toward Harry, refraining from going too close. "Potter," he tried. When it was clear he would not get a response, he spoke louder. "Harry."

The boy looked up, startled, his bright, green eyes opened wide.

"Black was not your fault."

The boy gnawed on his bottom lip, before jerkily shaking his head left to right.

"When you shared your concern with me that night, I went to Grimmauld place to speak with him. He would not listen. Knowing you would find a way to get to the Ministry, he disregarded advice to stay behind and impulsively went ahead anyway." Snape paused and took in the boy's wet cheeks and trembling, captured, bottom lip. "Black loved you, Harry. He made a decision to go and fight beside you as you did for him. If the roles were reversed, you would not want him to feel the way that you do, would you?"

Harry shook his head mutely.

Thank Merlin, Severus thought. I finally have his attention.

"Very well. Let us continue." Severus signaled for Harry to take a step forward, so that he was at arm's length. Lifting a hand, Severus slowly reached towards the boy, allowing him to follow his movements carefully. When he had his hand on the boy's chin, he repeated his previous gesture, pulling it down with a thumb.

"Come."

_________________________________________

Harry had never thought about what Snape's quarters would look like. Aside from the occasional rumor and made up horror stories in first year, nobody seemed to have any thoughts on the Potion Master's private life. That being said, Harry certainly hadn't expected this.

The sitting room was cozy and had wooden floors and trim. The walls that weren't covered by bookshelves were white. The lighting was bright enough to read, but dim enough to be cozy. The room contained two brown arm chairs, and a comfortable looking, matching couch. It appeared that Snape had every genre of book, from potions to fiction. Harry liked that.

The kitchen was a dark tan, golden kind of color and contained a separate small dining room with a wooden table and four chairs. There were beautiful paintings throughout the house, some of which Harry was surprised to recognize. The only rooms he hadn't been shown were Severus' own room which allowed him access to an adjoining, private, potions lab. When it came time to see his own room, Harry was surprised to find himself excited and chastised himself.

It's only for a little while. This isn't your house. Stop being a child, Potter.

Snape cleared his throat to get his attention before beckoning him to go through the doorway which led to his room. The room lacked a door, which Harry knew was for safety, and he blushed. However, embarrassment was quickly forgotten when he saw the rest of the room.

The walls were a pale blue color, with wooden trim that matched the wooden floor. His bed was large, compared to that at the Dursley's and his bedding was a simple blue, brown, and white array. On the back, blank wall was a glass window that was large and square. Walking up to it, Harry put a hand on the glass which was smooth and cool.

It looks just like...

"I charmed it to look like the woods that you appear to be fond of. I'll teach you the incantations for the different options of moving images later on." Severus remained in the doorway, allowing the boy to continue looking around. The room also contained a wooden desk and a small bookcase, which held his school books. A drawer set stood against another wall, and beside it, Harry was shocked to discover a poster of his favorite quiddich team.

Upon noticing it, Harry turned to Severus.

"Weasley told me your favorite team." His professor appeared a bit uncomfortable, and Harry warmed.

"Thank you sir. It's wonderful. I've never had...I mean you didn't have to do this. I will be out of your hair in no time and..." Harry's babbling was cut short.

Bloody hell, Severus thought angrily. The boy is at a loss for words over a simple bedroom.

"Stop." Severus said in a stern tone that was neither harsh nor kind. "I created this room for you. It is now your room." Letting his words sink in, Severus stood in the doorway until the boy nodded. "Come." Pointing to another door in the hallway, Snape informed, "This is the bathroom. I have one in my room so it will be used by you alone." Harry nodded again.

"Are you hungry?" Severus asked.

Harry shook his head to the negative. "No sir," he replied softly.

"Very well. I'll get you a nutritive potion and some fruit. You will eat at dinner."

Harry nodded his acquiescence quickly.

"Get settled into your new room. You are welcome to read in the library as well. If you want a snack, there is always food in the fridge. Do not be shy. If you need me I will be finishing up a potion in my lab. Knock on my bedroom door. You are not allowed to enter either room without my permission." Harry nodded in reply, and Severus nodded, before leaving the room.

For the next several hours, Harry packed his clothes and rested on his bed, staring out of his charmed window. Occasionally he would see an animal and insects, and he found himself lost in his woods once again.

_______________________________

Severus looked up at his clock and was surprised to see that several hours had passed. It would be dinner time soon. His thoughts immediately went to the boy.

I wonder how he is settling in. Should I be watching him more? He just tried...Merlin what am I, a doting grandmother? I've place alert spells on him so that I will know if he is in danger. All of my quarters are charmed so that no one is able to harm themselves. It's baby proof. Potter proof. Severus smirked.

After bottling his potion and cleaning up, Severus walked upstairs and placed an order with the kitchen house eleves for dinner. When the food and drinks were present, he went to the boy's room and knocked on the door frame.

The boy's room. James is probably rolling over in his grave.

The boy was laying on his stomach, his chin resting on his crossed arms as he looked out of the window. His belongings appeared to be packed in tidily. When it was clear that the boy hadn't heard his knock, Severus felt the beginnings of worry.

I hope he's not depressed. What if...Oh stop it. He's fine. He's Potter.

Despite his self-assurances, Severus couldn't help the small hint of worry that his voice betrayed. "Harry?"

All worry evaporated when Harry stood up quickly onto his elbows and pushed himself up.

"Professor!" He said excitedly with a big smile. "Look!" Rolling off of the bed, Harry winced as he put weight on his bad ankle.

"Careful." Snape warned.

Harry nodded, still smiling, before frantically waving his arms  for the man to come closer. "Look! Look! Over the hill there by that dead tree."

Severus walked around the bed until he was next to the boy, whose fingers were on the glass pointing out at an animal. Severus squinted as he attempted to identify it.

"It's a doe, sir!" Harry said excitedly. "I've seen them in the woods before. The real woods. They all travel together and they're beautiful, but I always manage to scare them away, no matter how quiet I try to be. And I am good at being quiet!" The boy looked at Severus expectantly.

What does he want from me? Severus thought. The boy is a teenager already, at times wise beyond his years. However, on other occasions, he's almost childlike.

Something clicked in Severus' mind as he remembered things he had experienced and learned by working with his own Snake's. In cases of abuse, many children are forced to grow up prematurely. Once in a safe environment, they are allowed to have fun and be themselves. They act both older and younger. They are also able to begin to sort out the abuse itself, which is painful. This makes sense in Potter's case. He's safe at Hogwarts and he feels safe with me...for some reason. After Black's death, his coping abilities are not enough. Hence the train. He is having to face the pain of the abuse and black's death...along with countless other traumatic experiences at this bloody school. Now that we know the truth...truths...about how he is doing, he has seen that it is safe to be himself. It is okay not to be okay. It is okay to act like an eleven year old in front of an enchanted window.

"Sir?" Harry questioned after his professor had failed to reply. "Do you see it? Do you? Look!" He pointed emphatically.

He certainly looks young enough to be eleven, Severus mused.

"I see it. I too am also fond of these creatures. So majestic and strong, yet graceful."

Harry nodded, still smiling.

Of all the creatures, he picks a doe. It can't be helped. The boy looks good with a smile on his face. His eyes are so like Lily's...Merlin I'm growing soft.

"Your mother's Patronus was a doe." The smile left the boy's face, and Severus wondered if he had said something wrong. However, wonder quickly filled the boy's face instead.

"Really?" Harry asked, wide-eyed. "Mine is a stag."

"Yes...I remember," Severus replied remembering the events of third year.

"What's yours professor?" Startled, Snape looked down at the boy. The Boy Who Lived. The Boy who has faced the Dark Lord more times than should be possible. The boy who had tried to take his own life. The boy whose back attested to brutal child abuse. The boy who was starved. The youngest seeker in a century. The Triwizard Champion. The boy who slayed a basilisk. 

The boy who was so strong, yet so breakable.

Lily's Boy.

"Mine is also a Doe..." Harry waited for the professor to continue.

"Your mother and I were very close before I called her that nasty word."

Harry nodded.

Merlin, I can't do this, Severus thought.

"I will tell you about her during dinner if you'd like." Severus said apprehensively.

Harry looked up, surprised. "Yes sir. I would love that."

_____________________________

Dinner passed pleasantly as Severus told Harry stories about his mother. When they were done, both felt lighter somehow.

Before bed, Severus helped Harry administer his scar cream, neither of them commenting on it. When it was time for bed, Severus said goodnight before turning off the light. He was alerted that the boy was in distress at 3:15am.

___________________________________

"NO! Stop! Don't kill her! Mum...mum!"

Severus walked in to the pitiful cries of Harry Potter. The boy was tossing and turning, face contorted.

He's not dreaming of...surely not...

"Mum, don't leave me. Please! Leave her alone!

Oh Merlin.

Severus felt his heart break as he remembered cradling Lily's dead body as the child in the crib sobbed.

"Potter, wake up." Severus said loudly. After the boy continued to thrash, he moved towards the bed, turning the lights on and dimming them. "Harry, it's time to wake up now. It's safe." Severus continued in a soft voice. When the boy quieted but stayed lost in the nightmare, Severus slowly sat on the bed and took the boy's hands in his own hand, putting the other on the boy's sweaty fringe. "Harry, wake up. You are safe. Nobody is here." He punctuated his words with his movement as he stroked the boys hair, pushing it out of his face. After several minutes, the boy quieted down.

"Professor...?" Harry asked shakily, his throat rough from screaming.

Severus continued to stroke the boys hair, but released his hands.

"Yes, Harry?"

One of the boy's hands began to play with the fabric on the knee of Severus' pajama bottom. The gesture was odd to Severus. It was one of familiarity and trust.

"My mum..." the boy stopped talking and swallowed loudly.

"I know, Harry," Snape replied, his hand stilled on Harry's head.

"I'm usually not like this. I'm not weak...." Harry trailed off and Severus looked down at him.

"Accepting help is not weak. Your recent reactions are...logical under the circumstances." 

Harry was quiet for several minutes, before he broke the silence again. "You really aren't on Vold...on his side, are you sir?"

Snape stopped stroking the boy's hair for a moment, surprised, before resuming. "No Harry."

Harry nodded, moving Snape's hand with him. "I'm sorry for waking you up, sir." The boy apologized, looking up as if expecting Severus to be angry.

How did I ever believe that this boy was like James? Severus asked himself. The likeness was even less with the boy's glasses off.

"Do not apologize. I am here if you need anything."

Harry nodded mutely, and Severus resumed carding his finger through the boy's hair. When it was clear that Harry had fallen back to sleep, Severus gently pried the hand that held fast to the fabric on his pajama and noxed the lights off.

Entering his own room, he lay down on the bed and quickly fell asleep with pleasant dreams of his lost best friend.

Looking out of his window, Harry found himself surprised at how well the past week had gone while living in Severus' quarters.

Merlin, when did I start thinking of him as Severus? Probably around the time that I blubbered all over him like a baby. 

He winced inwardly in remembrance and began to bite his fingernails distractedly. It was hard to believe that just last night, he was telling Severus Snape his deepest, darkest secrets. Has the world gone mad? Watching the peaceful meadow before him, he let his thoughts drift back to the previous night.

"Harry?" Severus called from where he was brewing his potion. Bottling the potion, he took his gloves off and left the lab.

"In my room!"

Severus smiled. The boy had finally come around to calling the room "his." For the past several days he would quickly correct himself or go on and on about how thankful he was for three solid meals and a place to rest his head. Bloody Gryffindors.

"I have good news," Severus relayed with a half grin. He was perched in the doorway, leaning against its frame.

"You finally learned how to smile?" Harry asked cheekily.

Severus rolled his eyes and raised an eyebrow at the young teen. He was getting comfortable indeed.

Harry's expression went from amused to unsure and he began to apologize until it was waved away by Severus. "Stop with all of the apologies already," Snape said moodily. Harry grinned and nodded nervously.

"What is the good news, sir?" He asked hesitatly. 

"Well, Mr. Potter, tonight is the final night that we will be applying your salve. After this, your back shall be fully healed."

Harry nodded and fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable by the mention of his scars. "Thank you sir," he replied quietly with his head bowed. 

Severus nodded and slowly rested a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Shirt off."

Nodding shakily, Harry stood up from the bed and faced his window, slowly sliding his shirt over his head. He shivered when he felt Severus' long fingers rub the salve into his sensitive skin. The hand left, and Harry relaxed, only to jump when it unexpectantly returned. He suddenly did not want to be touched anymore.

It's just Severus. He's behind you, and we are in the dungeons. It's just you and Severus. And he's behind you. It's okay that he is behind you because he is safe. He is safe. It's just Severus. It's Severus' hands. Hands. Hands. He's behind you and his hands are on you and they won't get off. Get off! Not there, here. Not at the Durselys.

Severus paused as he felt the boy before him shift somehow. He didn't know what had changed, but he suddenly felt as if the boy had left and was now nothing more than a passive prescence. 

"Harry?" Snape asked, confusion evident in his voice. When no reply came, he quickly set the salve down, wiping his hands on his robes. Walking around to face the boy, he realized that the young teen was not only unresponsive, but also shaking slightly with wide, unfocused eyes. "Harry?" Severus repeated, worried. 

Harry? What? Harry? No, I can't, I' can't get out.

Severus sighed. The boy is trapped in his mind. Merlin knows what horrors he is witnessing again. I have to talk to him about his back. He cannot afford for me to coddle him further on the matter. Severus sat on the bed beside Harry and pulled the boy to sit beside him. Who am I kidding? I've already grown soft. Pulling the boy so that he was nearly sitting in his own lap, severus held the boy tightly, hoping that the pressure would allow his heartbeat and breathing to slow. Almost immediately, he felt moisture hit his hand and realized that the boy was crying quietly. 

"Harry, you have to snap out of it. You are here, with me, and I will not let anything happen to you. This is Prof...this is Severus. That's right, it's me." He continued speaking, in hopes that the young teen would hold onto his voice as a ship would hold fast to an anchor amidst a stormy sea.

 He...Harry, it's me. It's...Get off of me...It's Severus and I'm here and...

"Severus?" A small, shaky voice responded, finally.

After realizing that the boy had spoken, Severus stopped his litany of nonsense and became quiet. Here he was, the Boy Who Lived sitting in his lap, with his own arms wrapped tightly around him. There was no turning back now.

"Harry..." Severus replied, unsurely. "You were unresponsive...I..." he stopped. 

"Thanks." Harry whispered, his tears still slowly falling. Shifting his arms, which before now lay stiffly on his lap,he adjusted himself so that he was holding onto Severus' robes, as if for dear life. "He..." Harry began, before the words became a sob. Severus' arms tightened instinctively, and he moved his arm to press the boys head into the crook of his neck firmly, stroking his hair in the process. He did not want to hear this. But he knew that it had to be done. 

"He what Harry?" Severus replied, gently. He waited for the words, knowing that they would break him. 

"He made me pay." Harry sobbed harder, and Severus began rocking slowly.

"Pay?" Severus responded, evenly, swallowing thickly. 

Harry let out a shaky breath and coughed, nodding into Severus' robes. "He made me pay for room and board. Since I was little..." Harry sniffed in loudly, and Severus shifted them both so that he could summon a hankerchief. "Thanks," Harry replied congestedly, blowing more. He held the hankerchief in his hand, bawling it into his fist. 

"Go on," Severus urged gently. He shifted them back, holding the boys head once again and rocking slightly. 

"It started when I got my Hogwarts letter," Harry continued, burrying his face in his proffessor's black robe. Severus strained to hear the boy and almost asked him to move so that he could be heard before thinking better of it. Instead, he resigned himself to settle his own head on top of Harry's, his chin resting lightly on the mop of unruly, dark hair. The young teen still smelled like a little boy, all sweat and sweet shampoo. 

"What began Harry?" Severus prompted, patiently. 

 Harry continued on. "At first it was only pictures. He said that everbody wanted to see freaks, especially when they were little boys." Severus' heart dropped. "Later, they would come themselves. I couldn't tell anybody. That the great Harry Potter was being...being..." Harry began sobbing again and Severus squeezed him tightly, rocking him back and forth and murmering softly, "Shhh, it's okay now, you're okay." Minutes passed in silence before the boy continued.

 "Sirius was going to get me away from it all. Away from the pain and the humiliation. You saw what my uncle spelled on my back. He was supposed to save me from all of that. He loved me. He loved me and now he's dead." Harry sobbed loudly, and by the last word, his sobs quieted down into hicups.

Severus stopped rocking and the two sat quietly, both clinging to one another. After a good amount of time had passed and his limbs had grown unvomfortably numb, Severus cleared his throat and stood up, shifting Harry back onto the bed. When the boy moved as if he would get up Severus held up a hand signalling him to sit down. He obeyed.

Bending down, Severus picked up the boy's pajama top from the ground and stood. "Arms up," he instructed plainly. Harry found himself obeying without question. He didn't care that the man was treating him as if he were four years old. Being cared for felt good. Sliding the shirt over the boys head, Severus tugged it down through his arms and then knelt before him so that they were eye to eye. 

 "Harry, I..." Severus stopped, suddenly unsure of himself. He shook his head and continued on, bravely swallowing his pride. "I will always be there to save you. I have been whether you believe me or not. I promised your mother, and now I am promising you. I cannot replace what you have lost, but I will take you away from those filthy...those..." He paused, quelling the rage that stirreed within his chest as he thought of the boy's relatives. "...those muggles. You will stay with me. You will never have to 'pay' for a single thing because...because I will care for you. I will provide for you. And I will...love you."

When silence followed, Severus cleared his throat again and stood up, feeling stupid. He refused to take his words back. He may be bad when it came to expressing emotion, but he refused to be a coward. Turning around, he capped his salve and moved to leave the room. When he reached the door, however, he had to grab the frame as a small form collided into his back. Catching his breath, he felt the boy's glasses digging into his back. All that he could hear was a long littany of,

"Thank you, thank you, thank you...."

Harry.

Harry smiled as the memory evaporated, and with it his embarassment. At breakfast, Severus had announced that they would both be taking the next Several weeks before Christmas holidays off, beginning their vacation early to go to Severus' cottage which stood in the forest of Devon. Harry could hardly wait. The headmaster had agreed, of course, saying that he only wished he could do more.

 That wish and desire to right passed wrongs drove the headmaster to somehow get the approval of the ministry for Severus Tobias Snape to formally adopt, the one and only, Harry James Potter.

Harry went to bed that night knowing that the world was imperfect. That voldemort still remained undefeated and that evil still thrived. That Sirius was dead and would never return. That he himself was still broken and that the momories would always come.

 However, he also now knew that he had a home. In his wandering, he had found a person willing to share in his pain and even wander with him on occasion. He had found love and a family. 

 He had discoved that not all who wander are lost.