In the short time that he'd been alive, Harry had dealt with more than his fair share of anger directed his way. He'd been weaned on the emotion at the malicious hands of his relatives; raised to anticipate it from various people at Hogwarts; and more recently, almost killed by it at the hands of Voldemort and his followers.

But none of that compared to the seething look of rage currently simmering in his professor's eyes. It was obvious that the scene Harry had just witnessed was never meant to be seen by anyone, least of all him.

Harry had woken to the sounds of a struggle, convinced for a moment that Snape was fighting against a very real, albeit invisible opponent, and Harry had been ready to jump to his defense.

But then…

Harry had been too shocked – and then too panicked – to do anything more than helplessly observe the scene playing out in front of him. He was rooted to the sofa as if by an immensely powerful sticking charm. And after Snape had delivered the first vicious slice to his arm, the scars Harry had seen that first night suddenly made sense. Watching Snape repeatedly hurt himself in that way had not only staggered Harry, but had shaken him to the very core.

Harry was winded as if he'd been punched in the gut, but he tried not to draw attention to himself as strained to catch his breath. He must not have been quiet enough. Snape's eyes darted to his and held, looking just as shocked as Harry felt. But then his gaze darkened, a furious rage igniting behind their depths. He stood up so fast that the chair clattered to the floor, and Harry jumped violently at the sudden movement. With a sweep of his arm, Snape knocked everything on his cluttered desk to the floor with a resounding smash. He then advanced on Harry like a raging bull.

Snape's eyes never left Harry's as he stalked toward him, and Harry couldn't have tried to escape even if he'd wanted to.

His professor seized him by the shirt collar, lifting Harry to his feet and shaking him violently. Then he slammed him against the wall, knocking the air from Harry's lungs.

Odd, Harry thought randomly. I am not afraid like when Uncle Vernon comes at me…

"Did you like the show, Potter?!" Snape snarled, startling Harry out of his thoughts. "Think it's amusing to watch your hated Slytherin Potions professor get what he deserves?"

Harry didn't even try to fight back. If anything, he understood this unbearable pain more than anything else Snape had done in the past few days, having lived with it himself all of last year.

"No, sir," Harry murmured quietly. "I… I didn't like seeing that. And I don't think you deserve it."

Snape held him against the wall for a long moment, and Harry thought he saw uncertainty flicker behind his angry gaze for the barest of moments. Bu then it was gone, a cold fury taking its place, and Harry wondered if he'd even seen it at all.

Snape released him with a snarl. "I want you gone from here, Potter! You are no longer welcome in this house!"

Harry froze, his body going cold in horror.

No… After everything, Harry still felt safer here than he ever had anywhere else. Snape couldn't mean to kick him out!

"Sir…" he tried desperately, taking a few pleading steps toward the man. "Sir, please! After everything… I… I thought—"

"You thought what, Potter? That just because I allowed you to stay in my old bedroom and told you some trivial facts about your mother, that now we're family?" He spat the word as if it were the foulest curse, and Harry recoiled as if he'd been struck. As much as Harry hated to admit it, that was exactly what he'd been starting to think.

Harry couldn't prevent the moisture that pooled in his eyes. Snape glared at him hatefully with a look of purest loathing.

Harry swallowed the burn at the back of his throat, trying to not to acknowledge the sense of betrayal. And although he knew he should be feeling it, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to muster up any anger toward the man. He understood better than most that Snape was lashing out. Trying to get through to him, he stared at Snape and murmured, "I'm glad mum is not alive to see this. It would have devastated her."

Bringing up his mother was the wrong thing to do. Snape lunged at him with a roar, grabbing him fiercely enough by the upper arms to leave bruises. But in that moment of contact, Harry caught a mental image that he didn't think Snape realized he'd let slip past his barriers.

A large man, obviously one closely related to Snape. He had the same hooked nose and dark hair. A boy lay beneath him, looking up at him in pure terror and agony. Like Harry, the man had him pinned by the arms, and the boy was begging for the man to stop hurting him.

He realized with a start that the boy was in fact a very young Severus Snape.

"No, please Da… It hurts! Please stop, Da!"

Harry came back to himself gasping in great gulps of air.

"SEVERUS!"

Snape froze, but the look of hatred never left his features as he continued to stare down at Harry, still holding him tightly by the arms. Harry was reeling from what he'd seen, and barely registered the sudden surge of raw power now swirling through the room.

"Let go of him, Severus. Now."

Snape pushed Harry away from him hard enough to send him stumbling to the floor. Harry barely registered the movement, staring up at his professor from the ground with wide, unnerved eyes.

"No, please Da… It hurts! Please stop, Da!"

The way he'd reacted to Dudley and his gang.

The way he'd forced himself into Harry's mind, refusing to believe his denials.

The self-inflicted scars.

Harry wanted to retch. It all suddenly fell into place and made a sick, perverse sort of sense.

"Sir… I…" he whispered, not really knowing what he wanted to say. But the compassion and empathy he felt for the small, helpless child in the vision surged through him. Harry felt more connected to that little boy than he had to anyone else in his entire life.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a firm voice.

"Harry, gather your belongings. You and Remus will be leaving immediately." It was Dumbledore – Dumbledore and Remus were here, and he hadn't even realized. Remus was looking at Snape as if he wanted to kill him, and Dumbledore looked much the same. Harry had never seen that look on either of the men's faces before, and the anger shocked him.

But... they don't understand! They don't know!

The shame that Harry had once felt at the thought of Dumbledore, Remus, or anyone else knowing his deepest secrets was now gone, replaced by a panic of impending doom. He no longer cared if Snape shouted his secrets to the entire school at the start-of-term feast. All he knew was that he had to stay, for the sake of that terrified, lonely, abused boy. He had to show Snape that he was not as alone as he thought he was, that someone actually cared. Even if it meant that Snape revealed his secret as he tried to push him away, Harry didn't want to go anywhere else.

"Professor Dumbledore!" he said, scrambling to his feet. "Sir, please! I… I need to stay. Professor Snape—"

"No Harry," the headmaster said firmly, glaring past him at Professor Snape. "Gather your belongings. You are leaving."

Harry turned to Snape, starting to panic. I can't leave! I—He—we need each other! "Professor Snape! Pleasedon't send me away! I don't wait to go…"

"I am not your father, Potter!" Snape hissed. "I owe you nothing!"

Harry stumbled backwards, his breath catching in his throat. The words were like a knife to the heart. Snape continued to glare at him as if he were nothing more than a mess on the bottom of his shoe, and Harry remembered that he was a problem that Snape had never wanted in the first place.

"But… You helped me…"

"Out of obligation, Potter! Do notdelude yourself into thinking I actually give a damn. You are no longer my problem."

It's really and truly over, then, Harry realized, his entire body going cold. He's right – he is not my father. It doesn't matter what happened, none of it. He despises me. And he always will.

Harry couldn't help but feel ridiculously childish and pathetic. How desperate for love am I? He thought dejectedly. Look at how blinded I was… What I almost convinced myself of…

With one last look at his professor, he tried desperately to not think about the family he could have had – of loving and being loved in return. Then he spun and ran from the room, wanting to never feel anything again.

.:HP::SS:HP::SS:.

"I don't care how much I need the information you provide, Severus. Consider yourself extremely fortunate that I do not throw you into Azkaban this very night. If I ever see you raise a hand against a student again, I will not hesitate."

The wolf had followed Harry from the room, and Snape was alone with Dumbledore. But he refused to meet the headmaster's gaze. He was sure the man would see right through his fragile Occlumency shields, and he wasn't ready to reveal his deepest secrets twice in one night. However, loathe as he was to admit it, Snape was starting to feel the first inklings of guilt and shame beginning to wrap their icy fingers tightly around his insides.

He paced the room like a caged animal, trying desperately to hold onto that self-righteous anger that had always served to protect him so well. The rage that Harry's presence during his weakest moment had invoked had been very real, and in that moment he meant what he said about wanting Potter gone. He tried desperately to hold onto that emotion, but it was as if he was trying to clutch water; the harder he tried to squeeze, the faster the anger faded.

Potter's betrayed and wounded eyes kept flashing through his mind, forcing him to recognize and feel emotions that Snape had been convinced were long-since dead.

Dammit! The boy is not my responsibility. He is not even my blood! I. Don't. Want. Him!

Dumbledore stood silently in the doorway, watching, knowing, even without looking into Snape's eyes. He gave a great sigh.

"Severus…"

"Don't, Albus. Just don't." He felt the old man's penetrating gaze on him as he continued to pace, but Snape refused to look his way.

"Once again, you make me protect the best of you, my boy."

That raised his hackles, as Snape was sure the old coot knew it would. He stopped and spun toward the headmaster. "The 'best of me', Albus? Which part would that be? The part that allows my anger to sequester me from the rest of the world? Or the part that beats innocent children?" Snape continued his irate pacing, unable to stay still as the anger began to quickly warp into self-disgust.

Dumbledore steepled his fingers before him, tapping his lips in thought. "I was actually referring to the part that cares about the orphaned child of his nemesis enough to open his home as well as his heart." Dumbledore looked hard at him, his eyes changing from kindly father figure to hardened punisher. "What happened, Severus?"

Snape ran a hand through his hair, once again refusing to look at the headmaster. "I lost control," he said with an angry growl. He could tell the old codger was not just going to let it lie with that paltry explanation, so he continued, "The Dark Lord was very angry with his Death Eaters for not knowing more about the disappearance of 'The Boy Who Lived'…" He let the sentence hang heavily in the air between them.

"Ah yes," Dumbledore said, once again steepling his fingers beneath his chin. "It will interest you to know that Ms. Patil has been rescued, before any more damage could be perpetrated upon her person."

"And Dolohov?"

"Arrested, currently being interrogated before being sent to Azkaban."

"He'll never talk. He's too loyal."

Dumbledore's gaze hardened. "What he intended to do to Ms. Patil may earn him the Dementor's Kiss. Let us hope that fact will loosen his tongue."

Snape paused, considering. "And me?"

"I believe your cover is quite secure." The headmaster sighed as he continued, "Dolohov was never the brightest of men, even when he was just a student at Hogwarts. Tonight he made the mistake of making a public arrival with Ms. Patil at his home in a very Muggle part of London. From what I'm told, she put up quite the fight. Both the Aurors as well as the Muggle police were called. And from what I understand, Parvarti was able to… ah…secure quite the shot before she was rescued." There was a twinkle in his eye, but it vanished quickly. "It has been decided that her memory of the entire incident should be removed. And since there will be no lasting physical damage, the girl will make a full recovery."

Snape closed his eyes, releasing a breath he did not realize he was holding. "Thank God it was only the one time," he muttered quietly, almost to himself. "It becomes nearly impossible to remove or alter memories after long-lasting abuse…"

The two men were silent for a long moment before Dumbledore announced, "Harry will not be coming back here."

Snape's eyes shot to meet Dumbledore's. Although he had demanded that very thing only minutes before, for a moment he suddenly wanted to argue against it. But everything came rushing back, and he remembered…

He was not the best choice as guardian for the boy – he never had been. He'd known love only once in his life. And exactly as he'd done back then, he'd rejected it, driving it away in a twisted attempt to protect himself.

He wasn't worthy of love – he realized that now. In fact, it was dangerous to allow anyone to get close to him. How much of a selfish prick am I for wanting to keep him here with me, safe and protected? He thought. That's assuming he'd even forgive me for what I've just done to him. I'm no better than his vile relatives…

No… It's better this way. Maybe not for the both of us, but definitely for Harry. After all, since when has my miserably pathetic excuse for a life ever mattered?

Clenching his jaw, Snape nodded once at Dumbledore. "Where will he go?"

"The Burrow. Author and Molly have agreed to take him. They have raised seven children already, and both are wonderful, loving parents. He's as much their son as any one of their other boys."

Snape felt a strong pang in his chest at the word 'son'. But he nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

It's for the best…

Lupin appeared then at the foot of the stairs, closely followed by an unexpressive Harry, who stood staring blankly at the floor with both hands shoved deeply into his pockets.

"Do you have everything?" Lupin asked him quietly. Harry just nodded, still staring at the floor. "Well, we'd best be off then. The Weasleys are eager to see you, especially Ron." He tried to catch the boy's eye to offer a smile, but Harry just nodded impassively. Lupin sighed, glancing at Snape with an angry, reproachful look.

Before he'd realized what he was doing, Snape had called out to the boy.

"Potter… I…" Snape faltered, not understanding what was driving him to speak to the boy at all. He had been extremely close to throwing Potter out no more than ten minutes ago, but he suddenly wanted nothing more than to keep him here where he knew he would be safe. Snape knew it was better to just make a clean cut and be done with it, and yet here he was, about to try and convince the boy to remain.

Harry glanced up at him in surprise, a hopeful look creeping into his eyes.

Lily's eyes… Don't make the same mistake twice. You know he deserves better than what you could ever offer him.

He ran a hand through his hair. "I… will send anything I find of yours along to the Weasleys."

Crushed… That was the only way to describe how Harry looked in that moment. Before he had a chance to reconsider, Snape turned away so he wouldn't have to see it.

Coward!

"I will be in touch, Severus," Dumbledore said quietly to his back.

The roar of the floo was like the slow-acting burn of acid, and just like that, Snape was alone.

His hands shook as he removed his wand and gently righted the crystal decanter, filling it with amber liquor once more.