"Harry?"

Harry could hear a soft voice calling to him and groaned as it drew him from the first relatively undisturbed sleep he'd had in weeks. Unlike his many other dreams, this one seemed to fade the nearer to conscious his mind came leaving only a lingering sense of laugher and safety. With regret he opened his eyes and blinked several times in the dim light.

"Afternoon, sleepyhead."

Sitting up in bed he looked in the direction the voice had come from to see Ginny Weasley sitting crossed-legged caddy-corner to him with his dark green, terry cloth robe folded on her lap. He flushed bright red as it occurred to him that he was wearing only his underwear under his covers. Glancing quickly toward the floor, he noticed his discarded clothes were gone.

"Lady Figg came in with an elf earlier and took the dirty clothes. She left clean clothes for you in your bathroom. Don't worry, I'll give you the robe once we talk."

"Talk?" Harry asked a bit harshly, looking back at her.

"I have six older brothers and survived three years getting top marks with Professor Snape, you're going to have to do better than that if you want to intimidate me," Ginny said with a smile.

Harry stared at her dumbfounded. Ginny had managed to get over most of her trepidation in talking to him, but her confidence here was unprecedented. She blushed under his scrutiny and looked down at her lap, her hands twisting anxiously.

"I just thought you might want someone to talk to. I was listening to Hermione earlier and from what she was saying, I am guessing you exiled yourself to your room or something, because even when I asked her she didn't really seem to know what you had been doing these past few weeks. Even that dunce of a brother I have didn't seem to connect Arabella the healer with Arabella Figg, your godmother."

This time it was Harry who broke eye contact, suddenly finding his hands interesting even as he bit back mild irritation. For the past week, he had been furious that no one seemed to notice him, now someone had and he was still finding it irritating. He didn't really want to talk about it; he just wanted to be left alone.

"I overheard Arabella and Remus talking in the kitchen area, she seemed really upset." Ginny said softly, half under her breath so that Harry nearly missed it. "Remus told her what you said to him. It's why I came looking for you. I thought you could use someone to talk to, someone whose only motive was to help you, not Hermione or Arabella or even Professor Snape." She said the last name in a hesitant whisper.

He could feel the panic induced adrenalin pouring into his bloodstream as he stared at Ginny wide-eyed. She couldn't know! He wasn't ready yet!

"So, how are you?" Ginny asked in a tentative voice, her hands fiddling nervously with the fabric of the robe.

Harry just sat there, unsure of what to say. The overwhelming anger he'd felt that morning had faded somewhat, leaving him in a malaise tinted slightly by a lingering bitterness. What was he supposed to tell her? That he was fine? He looked up at her, let their eyes met and realized she probably already knew the answer.

He shrugged before asking, "You heard everything?"

"Yeah, he even repeated it twice." She replied softly.

Silence descended again as he sat there, torn between feeling guilty over his behavior and yet oddly justified at the same time.

"I'm pretty sure they understand, Harry. Lady Figg even said so before, well, before I decided to stop eavesdropping and come find you."

"I don't even know who I am anymore." Harry whispered softly, not sure why he was confiding that to his best friend's little sister.

"I know what that's like, Harry. To stare at yourself in the mirror and not be really sure it is the real you staring back." She paused and Harry looked over at her and saw her body shake as if a piece of ice had been dropped down her back.

"The Diary?" Harry asked and watched as Ginny nodded.

"None of this changes who you are. You're still the boy who saved the Philosopher's Stone, who saved me from Tom and you're still the Tri-Wizard Champion who risked his life to bring Cedric home. You're still brave and smart and loyal. You're still Harry. Just Harry." Ginny had such an earnest, sincere expression on her face and he found it oddly comforting.

"Ms. Weasley is a very smart young woman, Harry. I'd listen to her, if I were you." Remus said from the doorway. Harry flushed brightly as he looked up at the man; embarrassed he had just been caught, barely dressed, with a girl in his room. Remus chuckled.

"I'm sorry for screaming at you, Remus. You didn't deserve that." Harry said sincerely.

"Apology accepted. Did it help?"

Harry looked at the older man quizzically as he crossed the room and settled himself at the foot of the bed opposite Ginny.

"Did letting it all out make you feel any better?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"I'm glad. Just promise me that you will talk to someone before it gets to bad again, okay? I know this week wasn't easy, but you could have at least tried to owl Sirius or myself."

"I thought I wasn't supposed to contact you?"

"And when has that ever stopped you before?"

Harry smiled, somewhat chagrined. "I promise," he said.

"Good. I wouldn't want you to become an emotionally repressed git like someone else we both know."

Harry snorted.

"Look on the bright side, Harry. Professor Snape can't make any more derogatory comments about you being just like your father. If you give him a chance, he might actually be nice to you. Bill is still convinced he's a good person, he actually likes him." Ginny said with a smile.

Remus smiled at her and then turned back to Harry. "Bella is making an early dinner. She expects you in the kitchen to help her. Why don't you go take a shower and get dressed and well meet you in the kitchen?"

Harry nodded and caught the robe Ginny tossed at him before she scrambled off the bed and out the door, calling over her shoulder to for him to "hurry up already."

Remus chuckled at Ginny's exit then turned back to Harry with an eyebrow raised. "So, do I need to make sure that Bella or Snape has that talk with you?" He said teasingly, fighting to keep from smiling as he spoke.

Harry was baffled for a few seconds as to Remus' meaning before he flushed crimson and his eyes widened in shock. "No!" He stated fairly loudly which only cause Remus to laugh again. "It's nothing like that. She's a friend; little sister of a friend actually." He paused, looking down at his hands, "Besides, I have too many other things to worry about without adding that trouble to the heap. I don't think I would want to risk losing her friendship, either."

Remus' smile was tainted slightly with sadness as he nodded his understanding. He then rose from his seat on the bed, "Get cleaned up. We'll be in the kitchen," he said and then left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Climbing out of his bed, he stretched as he walked toward his bathroom and quickly showered and dressed. He exited the bathroom and walked toward his door, almost missing the folded parchment that was sitting on top of his tussled bed. Walking over, he lifted the letter and felt his hands shake slightly as he recognized his name in the neat, precise handwriting of Professor Snape.

Turning the letter over, he broke open the seal and carefully unfolded the letter. Another piece of folded parchment fell from within the folded letter and only Harry's quick reflexes allowed him to catch it before it fell to the floor. Sitting down on the edge of his bed, he set the first letter down beside him and examined the folded paper, seeing bits and pieces of oddly familiar, yet child-like handwriting. Unfolding it, he noticed the drawing and almost immediately recognized it from his dreams and memories. In the picture, a small black haired boy stood between two black haired adults, the older male's hair reached to his chin. Both adults held wands in their free hands. It was the family picture he had draw for his "father" when he was five; he had felt bad for his father being so far from him and Bella, so he had drawn him a family portrait so he could feel closer to them.

Flipping the page over, he read his own writing on the back:

Dear Father,

All the kids at school have pictures of them with their mums and dads. I know we can't get one taken with us, so I thought I would draw one for you instead. Aunt Bella told me some new stories about you and Mum and her at school and some of Dad and Uncles Sirius and Remus, too. I wish I could be there with you. Please come and get us soon.

I love you, papa.

Harry

For a moment he couldn't believe that Snape had actually kept the picture all this time; didn't you only do things like that if you cared? And if he'd cared so much, why did he treat him like crap for so long? Looking to his side, he reached down and lifted the letter from Severus and began to read,

Dear Harry,

Please forgive me for not acknowledging your letter sooner. I have tried for the better part of the last two weeks to find the words to explain myself, but inter-personal communication has never been one of my stronger skills and I find myself at a loss for words or the courage to express myself. I would appreciate the opportunity to get to know you and if you are still so inclined, I have a series of tasks to do for tomorrow in the castle and would appreciate you company. I invite you to join me if you are interested.

Your Father,

Severus Snape

Harry, if you are not interested, I will understand. I know I have not shown it at all in the past four years, but I do care for you. I love you, Harry. Always will. I am glad you and Bella are home. - Papa

Harry found himself compelled to read the letter over twice before the words actually began to register on his brain. Looking at the letter carefully, the top portion had obviously been written with a great deal of care paid to the details. Every letter was perfect in size, shape and proportion. The lines were straight and evenly spaced. The latter half was the complete opposite. The ink was a slightly different shade and the handwriting slightly sloppy, as if he had written the words quickly to prevent himself from losing courage.

He felt his body tremble slightly as an odd anxiety ran through him. He wanted to be happy, the part that represented those few discordant memories of Arabella and her stories was happy. That little boy's father, his papa, had finally come for him. But that other part of him, the part that was Harry POTTER was having trouble reconciling it all or even wanting it. That part of him couldn't forget four years of mutual dislike that was a far sight too close to hatred for comfort.

Harry heard the soft knock on his door and called out "Come in," absently as he continued to stare down at the parchment. He heard the door open slightly, but when no one spoke or entered the room, he looked up and saw Severus Snape watching him from the doorway. The man wore his usual controlled expression, but his eyes weren't their cold empty abysses with which he was familiar. While they seemed just as unreadable as before there was a soft or perhaps warmer quality to them now. He felt a flash of irritation at this; that the man would change his attitude toward him because of shared blood was upsetting, like it wasn't truly Harry, the person that he cared about.

For an instant, Snape's mask dropped revealing sadness and regret before it reestablished itself, leaving Harry feeling a bit contrite.

"I see you've read the letter." Snape said matter-of-factly with perhaps a bit of a harsh edge.

"Yes sir." Harry replied.

The silence stretched painfully as father and son stared at each other. Eventually, the Professor broke eye contact, looking instead just over Harry's shoulder.

"Arabella wanted you to join her in the kitchen as soon as you are dressed."

Harry felt like blinders had been removed from his eyes when he heard the slight unsteadiness his father's words. Professor Snape's voice was unusually thick, tense; like he was hurt or upset. It occurred to Harry that Snape must think he was rejecting the offer to spend time together, much like Harry had believed when his father had failed to even mention receiving his letter. It wasn't until the man turned and started to walk away that Harry made his decision.

"Professor!" Harry called after, rising from his bed quickly, taking his letter and folding the pieces together as he walked over to the older man. His father had stopped in his tracks and turned back slightly when Harry had called after him. Taking the opportunity, Harry ignored his nervousness and walked to his father and stood so he could see the man's face. "If the offer still stands, I would like to accompany you tomorrow," he said simply.

A small smile curled his father's lips and he nodded once in acknowledgement. Harry smiled slightly in return. He felt a bit better as he walked beside Severus Snape toward Haven's kitchen. There was still so much he didn't understand, but at least he felt like he was learning.