When Draco found the body of Harry Potter lying half dead against the trunk of his favorite oak tree, he thought he was hallucinating. Of course, he hadn't realized it was Potter at first, and if he had, the temptation to kick some snow on him and walk away whistling may have been too great to ignore.

No, first, he'd spun around so fast that his booted feet slid dangerously in the mud. It took a great amount of willpower for Draco to calm his racing heart and steady his feet, but once he'd accomplished that, he stepped neatly away from the sopping wet ground and ran all the way back to the cottage.

"Severus!" Draco gasped out as he threw the door open so forcefully that the handle came back to punch him painfully in the gut.

His ex-Professor had his wand steadily aimed at him while his eyes narrowed in distrust. His expression turned to anxiety as he recognized Draco. On the living room table, his newspaper had a growing damp spot from where he'd hurriedly thrown it down and knocked over his teacup in the process.

"There's a man," Draco blurted, his hand pointing outside the cottage, "at the edge of the wards--I was looking for the ingredients like you asked me to, and he was just there, and he looks dead. What if it's a Death Eater on the run-or maybe he wants revenge, what if he's looking for me!"

Severus frowned and lowered his wand along with his taut shoulders.

"Then he's found you, and look, you're still standing here, as obnoxious and self-involved as ever. I ought to let him take you away somewhere, preferably somewhere far."

Draco gaped at him; his legs were shaking from cold and fear. "Are you seriously making jokes right now? This is not funny, damn you, what are we going to do?"

"You said he looked half-dead, Draco," Severus drawled, "What is he going to do, drag his bleeding carcass up the hill, across the floor, knife in hand, while you lie still waiting for him to stab you?"

Draco's eyes widened at that mental image, and he shivered against his will.

Severus' mouth twitched even as his eyes searched for his shoes. He knew what his words would do to the boy, and he thought it was quite healthy to strike fear into his heart whenever possible. The Dark Lord's defeat hadn't done too much to Draco's feelings of self-admiration, he'd gone quiet for a few days--but joy of joys, he was remarkably the same now. The Ministry of Magic was desperately scrambling for sturdy ground, the disappearance of Harry Potter after the Battle of Hogwarts had thrown everyone into a panic. Though there were numerous accounts of people claiming to have seen The Dark Lord defeated, some were still in denial and others were terrified of the Death Eaters yet to be captured.

The Death Eaters that were said to have taken Potter in an attempt to bring their Lord back to life once again. Draco shivered at the thought and Severus saw and sneered at him.

"When one such as myself witnesses first hand your bravery, Draco, I truly wonder what that odd hat was thinking by not placing you in Gryffindor all those years ago."

His ex-Professor's sarcasm had grown steadily darker the longer Draco had lived with him, and though he suspected the man had some reason for acting so vile at times, today was not a day that Draco was willing to listen to it without retort. 

"Mother put me here so I'd be safe while everything calmed down--you have to protect me!"

Severus waved away his angry words; he was on the verge of rolling his eyes. "Your mother did not 'put' you here, I took you in to re-pay the debt I owed her for saving my life, you will be returning home as soon as the trials are over and the mansion has been declared free of dark artifacts."

Draco made a sound of impatience, and looked pointedly at the door to the cottage, which caused Severus to give in to the temptation to roll his eyes.

"I'm going, Draco. Make yourself useful and fetch my winter cloak, unless you want two dead men to deal with."

Swallowing, Draco did just that. He bit his lip and clenched his fists repeatedly in nervousness as Severus donned his heavy cloak and then his gloves. He looked at Draco, dark eyes amused and tired as he adjusted his cuffs.

"He is probably a homeless man from the village nearby, Draco. Living as you did you've probably never seen one before," he shook his head and headed toward the door.

Draco heard the muttered words, 'pet peacock, for Merlin's sake' and blushed in anger and embarrassment. So he liked big, fancy things; Claude, (the Malfoy pet peacock) was nothing to laugh at, the Flint's nearby were said to have a pet tiger. Draco's mother only let him have the more harmless creatures, no matter how he'd grumbled about it as a child. It was just another part of the pure blood lifestyle, something Severus couldn't understand considering his father was a Muggle and he was raised amongst the 'lowest of the low', or, at least, that's what Draco's father had said.

But, Draco was learning that his father had been wrong before; he had been wrong about the Dark Lord, and look how well that had turned out. He was trotting across the English countryside in weather cold enough to freeze his nose right off his face, and wouldn't that look odd. Pulling his scarf up around his mouth, Draco ran to catch up to Severus' long stride.

"What are you going to do?" Draco asked a little breathlessly.

"If he's hurt or sick we'll heal him and send him on his way. Direct him toward the nearest homeless shelter; it's far too cold to be out here...especially alone."

That was true, a thick layer of snow lay on the ground, and it didn't look like it would be melting anytime soon. For being late spring, there was a surprising amount of cold weather going about, as if the earth itself could feel the sadness from so many people and empathized in the only way it knew how.

The world looked bright because of it, everything was white and clean looking, and even that ugly black fence that lined Severus' property appeared quite quaint when covered in the stuff.

There was an odd look on Severus' face now, resigned, but his eyes seemed to hint that he was thinking about something other than the present. He was often like this, quiet and unreachable. He was so very different from the man Draco knew from Hogwarts, the one that had seemed so willing to offer him advice.

Pulling his own cloak tight around his shoulders, Draco looked at his shoes. The dark brown leather was forever ruined, and his toes were frigid with cold. He scowled, stupid homeless man. Why couldn't he have found some other tree to sleep against, some tree far away from the property?

Draco had been assigned the simple task of finding some clover, and once that was completed he could have been left alone inside, to ponder his fate now that the whole world had gone to hell.

They reached the edge of the property, and Draco pointed soundlessly to the right.

Severus held his wand aloft as they wandered through the maze of trees. The body was not immediately recognizable as such, because of the fine layer of snow that covered it, Draco grabbed Severus by the arm and directed his attention toward the proper area where you could barely tell that the dark bulge was not the roots of the enormous oak tree, but in fact a human.

Carefully walking forward until he was standing over the bundled up form, Severus frowned severely and Draco stared from a few steps away. He didn't trust the homeless man, for all he knew, it was a ruse to steal his shoes and whatever coins he had down deep in his pockets.

He was curled up against the tree, one arm thrown protectively over his head and the other used as a sort of pillow against the rough bark. The clothes he wore were lightly layered in fresh snow, and noticeably damp. He was stiller than death.

Draco hadn't seen a dead person since the last battle. There had been so many. Faces frozen with their eyes blankly staring, and faces that were familiar to him, even though he hadn't known most of their names.

He suddenly hoped this man was well...and that he would stand up and walk away soon so that they could go back inside.

Severus cast a quickly muttered spell on the man; Draco thought it might have been to wake him up.

When the man didn't budge, Severus walked around so he was closer to where the man's face was hid and bending over, reached out to shake him. There was no sudden jerk of wakefulness; the man did not even stir. Now Draco could see that Severus was actually becoming worried.

"That spell should have woken up even a stunned person," Severus muttered to Draco and swiftly crouched down above the snow, the end of his dark cloak immediately growing wet.

He pocketed his wand and pulled the limp arm away from the man's face---and froze.

"What?" Draco gasped as goosebumps rose on his arms at Severus' expression, he immediately expected the worst. "It's a Death Eater, isn't it? Oh, Merlin, what if there are more?"

It was a long silent moment before Severus blinked once, and then without even acknowledging the questions that had been directed at him, lowered the limp arm and slowly laid a gloved hand on a face Draco could only partially see. Expression dazed, Severus lifted his other hand and Draco saw a tremor run through it before it was laid on top of the man's head almsot reverently. 

Watching quietly, Draco almost didn't catch the gloves Severus threw at him as he pulled them off quickly, and chucked them toward his young charge. He then fell to his knees without a thought spared to how they would bruise, or how his trousers would be ruined.

Draco wondered if his ex-Professor would react to every hurt person this way as he tightly held the gloves, glad to be doing something, there was an energy in Severus' movements that hadn't been there in a long while.

Bending close, he laid his long fingered hands on the man's throat. Severus closed his eyes in concentration and pulled back sharply a moment later a relief on his face so startling that Draco could only gape.

"He has a pulse. He's still breathing, though...."

Severus' words trailed off as he pulled the man onto his back so his face wasn't half buried against the ground. There was dried blood on his surprisingly young face and his skin was deathly pale underneath, except for where it had yellowed from bruising. His features were familiar and Draco frowned and tried to fit the bloodied face with a name.

His fear had dissipated a little, and he could hear his ex-Professor murmuring as he busied himself with casting diagnostic spells and carefully examining the man for reactions.

"Why--do you know him?"

Severus looked up at him quickly, his eyes were slightly wild and Draco stepped back in alarm.

"Of course I know him; you do too," he looked back down and pushed sopping wet black hair from the man's forehead. Draco thought his movement was surprisingly careful for Severus' normal temperament and he frowned when his teacher's hand remained on top of the man's head, his thumb stroking the pale skin once. It was such a caring gesture, and it unsettled Draco so that he looked quickly down at the forehead below.

Though he'd seen the scar a hundred times and scowled at its owner, Draco didn't immediately realize what it meant. The glasses were gone and his eyes closed, leaving him oddly vulnerable , but there was no denying that lightning bolt scar. It was a stark mark amidst the strange, sickly pallor of Potter's face.

"But, I thought..." Draco shook his head, not sure if he was denying what was right in front of him, or just trying to understand. "The Death Eater's captured him after he killed the Dark Lord--he's dead. They wouldn't let him live after what he did!"

Severus's voice was quiet and sad; he didn't look away from Potter's face as he spoke. "It looks to me that he's been striving to survive, Draco. But, living and surviving are two very different things...-"

It was another sentence that seemed to have a secret message, and Draco didn't have the patience or the interest in decoding hidden meanings as he watched Severus cast a lightening charm. Black clad strong arms carefully went behind Potter's shoulders and underneath his knees, and Severus lifted him up off the ground, while Draco stood there and watched.

Potter's head fell limply back at an awkward angle, his blood tinged mouth was slightly open and Draco heard him take in a shaky and painful sounding breath before Severus righted him with care. With his head now leaning against a warm shoulder, Potter looked remarkably peaceful--even covered in blood.

"Hold on, Harry."

"Why--"

Ignoring his ward again, which Draco thought was becoming quite irritating, Severus strode past him and up to the cabin. Draco had never seen his face so concerned before, he was holding Potter as if he was more fragile than a newborn babe.

Nonplussed but growing angry, Draco stared at the spot where Potter had lain, the snow there was bright red and mostly melted from whatever heat his body had retained. Bitterness welled up in him as he turned to watch Severus striding away from him, all his attention on Potter. 

......................................................... 

It had been a long time since Severus had seen a body so broken. They had probably kept Harry conscious enough to feel the pain he was in, but weak enough that he couldn't fight back. How he'd managed to escape in this condition was beyond Severus' comprehension, how he had managed to make it to him of all people; that had to be a miracle.

And surely, Severus thought, fate could not be so cruel as to give him back his son, just to let him die from blood loss. No, Harry would not die. Severus wouldn't allow it.

The long walk back to the cottage felt like a lifetime, Severus didn't dare run and risk harming the boy any further, and he just couldn't let him go to be levitated now that he'd found him again.

Looking down, Severus took in the freckles across the softly rounded nose and then the blood that ran over eyebrows that mirrored his own. His breathing hitched without his permission, as his facade of emotionless stoicism began to crack. Severus' fingers tightened even more around the limp and wet body in his arms.

His son.

They were words he had not dared to say aloud in years, and he had even been extremely cautious not to think them once the Dark Lord had risen that horrible night. But now--the Dark Lord was dead. He'd been defeated by this recklessly brave and selfless young man. The young man he might possibly dare to now call aloud his own.

Sharp pain seemed to hit him in the heart at the thought, for surely, there was no way that could ever happen, he didn't know if even Harry could forgive all that he'd done.

Though they had finally reached the end they had all hoped to achieve, so much had been lost in the process. He had raked years of verbal abuse on the boy while playing the bitter Professor, had turned his eyes away from the blatant mistreatment by the people that were supposed to love him most, obliviated him of the few good memories he had of Severus, tricked him into hiding his true appearance...the list just continued on and on. Severus had allowed him to walk towards what he had believed to be certain death.

Now, against all odds, he was here, looking like his true self. The diagnostic had not been promising, but it was better than what he'd feared for the past couple of months.

He was still alive.

It was more than he could have hoped for. Severus had searched every night for weeks, traveling to every place the Death Eaters had ever converged: houses, mansions, dank little pubs and dreary places full of the scum of the earth.

When they reached the cottage, the door flew open and banged against the wall at the force of Severus' wandless magic. It had suffered a surprising amount of abuse in the past hour. Not bothering to shut the door behind him, he strode into the closest bedroom; his boots trailing in mud and filthy snow as he carefully lay Harry down on the soft quilt and arranged his arms and legs so he would be as comfortable as possible.

He drew his wand to cast another diagnostic spell. It swept over Harry's body, chiming softly as it searched for damage. Still, the boy didn't move, Severus hadn't thought he would.

"Is he dead?" Draco asked from the doorway. His face looked sour as he stood there quietly observing and holding Severus' abandoned gloves away from his body with two fingers. Severus determinedly avoided answering the question. He wouldn't even think about Harry dying, he'd just got him back.

"Fetch me some of your pajamas, quickly."

"Why?"

Severus looked up then and glared so fiercely that Draco immediately looked properly scared.

"Because if he dies from hypothermia I will tell the whole Wizarding World that it is your fault. Then, I'll cast you out of here so they can tear you apart limb from limb. Now fetch me some damn pajamas!"

Later he would look back and be impressed with the speed with which Draco could move when he was inspired to.

He fetched clothes from a nearby wardrobe while Severus eyed the ones Harry was currently wearing. They didn't even seem to belong to him, as they were far too big and bulky, and Severus wondered how he'd come by them and what he'd been wearing before. This made him wonder just what sort of harm had come to him at the hands of the Death Eaters he had once been a part of. He knew the depths of their depravity, and it terrified him to think that Harry may have seen the worst of it.

Focusing on healing all that he could see, Severus began removing the heavy jacket and used his wand to cut along the sides so it fell off. The long sleeved, dark blue shirt underneath soon followed to reveal nothing more than Severus had already expected.

Harry had lost a lot of weight, and it was hard to look at because the boy had never been large to begin with. Additionally, he was now covered in bruises and a multitude of scrapes and cuts. The large looking shoes fell off Harry's feet onto the floor with a quick spell as Severus eyed the dirt and grime that covered his skin. He cast several gentle cleaning spells but he knew the only way Harry would feel clean was with soap and warm water, which would have to wait.

"Merlin," Draco breathed in horror, staring at Harry's now bare feet, the pajama's hanging limp in his arms.

Severus moved to see what had caused him to react so, and felt sick immediately. The bottom of Harry's feet were embedded with glass and coated in blood.

The spell to remove the shoes seemed to have disturbed the wounds and even as they stared, fresh blood created a spot under his heels where they touched the soft fabric of the quilt.

"I feel sick," Draco muttered, and Severus moved forward to hold him upright as he teetered slightly.

"You can get sick all you like after you help me," pulling Draco closer to the bed, Severus took the pajamas and handed him a wastebasket.

"You want me to sick up in this?"

"No, that's where you'll put the glass once you start pulling it out of his feet with tweezers, but first, start a fire."

Draco broke out into a sweat right in front of his eyes and swayed again, "Oh...oh..."

Severus clenched his fists and tried to control his nerves, he couldn't get mad at the boy for having a weak stomach.

"Draco, I need your help. Potter could die if you don't help me, he needs potions now, potions that I don't have, so I will have to brew them. I need you to help me take care of him, do you understand?"

Draco blinked and frowned severely at him, "Why should I help Potter? He's the whole reason I'm stuck here, with you--"

"No, listen to me, Draco. You cannot allow your bitterness to blind you from the truth. It is your own decisions that have brought you here, your own mistakes that cannot be undone. You made the choice to follow the Dark Lord. I know you didn't want to do it. You did it because you were afraid and because that is what your family expected of you, but still you chose to do it. You may have felt like you didn't have a choice, and there are some that would agree with you, but this is where your choices have led you. But now, you are being offered another choice, help me heal Potter, and when the world finds out that you helped fix their broken hero, you may not go to Azkaban with your father."

Draco was pale, but he had his teeth gritted and glared hatefully at Severus.

"Fine!" He spat, "I'll help, where are the damned tweezers?"

Severus turned Harry over with very careful movements. The diagnostic spell told him there were several infected injuries on his back; the welts were angry looking, and obviously quite painful. He was quite glad that Harry was currently passed out, he didn't know if his pain potion would be strong enough to block out the pain caused by the amount of damage done to his body.

Shaking his head as he heard the first heavy piece of glass fall into the rubbish bin, Severus wondered how his son had managed to get anywhere on feet that looked like that.

"You always were extremely stubborn," he murmured to the back of Harry's head from where he lay sideways on the pillow. His breathing was so quiet that you had to lean close to hear it, but it was there.

"He doesn't even look like himself," Draco said suddenly. "And not only because of the bruises."

Not looking at him, Severus carefully dealt with the deep cuts on Harry's back, frowning as they bled freely while he tried to rid them of any infection.

"His face is wrong," Draco continued in a lower voice as he bent close to Harry's feet, trying to decide what was glass coated with blood and what was just blood covered flesh.

"He's lost a lot of weight, of course his face is changed."

"No...well, yes, there's that, but his eyebrows, and nose and--he has caught the Weasley's bug."

Severus blinked at the last part, looking up from where he was holding a damp cloth to one of the more freely bleeding wounds. "The Weasley's what?"

Draco smirked at him, then examined the piece of glass in the tweezers with a wince, though he wasn't looking sick anymore. "Freckles, Severus, Potter never had freckles."

"Seems like you spend too much time memorizing his face, I thought you hated him, not had a secret crush on him."

He could feel the glare from Draco, and it made him pleased. He knew the boy well enough to realize that if he was uncomfortable, he'd leave almost any subject alone.

"I'd seen him almost every day for years," Draco muttered, "It's not like I watched him all the time or something..."

"People change, Draco. You haven't seen him up close in months."

His voice didn't come off as nonchalant as he wanted, and Draco seemed to notice, for Severus could feel his eyes on his back as he left the room to get supplies. There were so many secrets he still did not feel safe in revealing.

Over the past year, the spells and potions used to hide Harry's true parentage had slowly faded as Severus hadn't been around to spike candy corn, or drinks to give to the boy. This meant that some of his memories had probably returned as well, and the thought scared Severus almost as much as his son's current state did.

After all, did anything sting as much as rejection?