Chapter three.

They spent the night in the barn. As Harry had earlier assumed, only coming out when they ran out of snacks the next day, when Sirius came to collect him for the day.

To say that Harry was disappointed, crushed in every sense of the word and devastated, was a good understanding of the situation. He expected his dad, banging on the barn's heavy double doors first thing in the morning, and demanding Harry to come out and talk. It didn't happen like that.

Dad didn't come that morning, even Mrs. Weasley didn't press them to open the doors, at first Harry thought it was all a hoax, so Sirius would be able to lure him

back into the house and lock him up with dad and Janet until they worked things out.

It also didn't happen like that. what happened was a mix of catastrophic and embarrassing situations and awkward silences all rolled into one Tuesday morning.

"I'm so embarrassed! I can't even look at them, I'm gonna run away!" Harry shuddered, peering into the bustling kitchen.

"Just play it cool alright? You have nothing to be embarrassed about, wait... Actually you do, but still. Act like a man." Ron patted him on his back, giving him a big thumbs up.

"Nope, I can't." he made a U turn again and walked up straight back to his friend.

"Just keep your head down and eat the damn breakfast Harry!" the red head snapped, agitated that his own breakfast was in jeopardy.

Harry nodded, taking big chunks of air in his lungs.

"You know what? On second thought maybe you should just keep your chin high, you know, badass punk attitude and all that shit, I don't really care . I'm hungry let's go." he grabbed Harry by his elbow dragging him across the garden.

"You think they'd scold me for the language?" he asked nervously, looking at Ron.

"I think mom would wack you if she could get away with it." Ron shrugged, and they paused on the porch. Harry whimpered in response.

"You take a look first. See if they're angry." Harry pushed him to the back door, and his friend stumbled glaring at him.

"Just go in already!" Ron grabbed his wrist and pulled him through the door. Harry cried out loudly and stumbled on Ron, who in return burst through the door and crashed on the ground in a heap of lanky limbs. With Harry on the top.

Ron cursed under his breath and pushed Harry down. The weasleys were looking at them with wide eyes, all gaping at the two.

Amusement mixed with bewilderment and their breakfast was certainly not a good morning combination for the Weasleys. Before Harry could even move or scramble off the ground all of them were already laughing at him.

That pretty summed up the breakfast. Literally, as soon as Harry scrambled ff the floor Sirius flooed in and crashed him down to the ground while slobbering all over his face. In his dog form.

Harry couldn't be more embarrassed, or disgusted. He wrinkled up his face and pushed the heavy mutt off of him.

"Gross!" Ron exclaimed, still on his knees. Harry knew it was the wrong thing to say the moment it left Ron's mouth. He could see Sirius grinning devilishly in his animaguse form, diving at Ron with a loud bark.

"Rise and shine pronglset! You're fourteen now!" the man threw his arms in the air enthusiastically, crushing Harry in a big Bear hug.

The boy flushed in his arms, half embarrassed and half ready to cry. He knew that if Sirius was here then dad wasn't coming to get him. He would probably spend his time with Sirius and Remus, not that it was a bad thing.

But Harry was homesick, he wanted his dad so badly, and yet, he couldn't bear to be in the same house as he and that woman without crying his heart out, or better yet, strangling and killing the woman once and for all.

"How does it feel Harry!! Tell me!"

"We had a sleep over. In a barn." Ron provided dryly, picking up a bacon off the plate, still dripping with saliva. Mrs. Weasley smacked his hand with her spoon and looked over Harry with a kind smile.

"I'm so glad to see you're better... Harry dear what happened to your cheek?" the woman busted up to him, and Sirius narrowed his eyes, grabbing Harry's chin and titling it sideways.

Harry groaned inwardly. Damn, damn, dammit! Oh Merlin, how could he have forgotten about the bruise?! Now they were going to think that dad did that last night. Oh merlin...

"It's nothing." he tried to pull away, so much for a happy and shame free day he thought sarcastically.

"This doesn't look like nothing, why didn't you tell us about the bruise last night?! It's huge!" Mrs. Weasley instantly took off to living room to summon a balm,
Harry pursed his lips, hating that he was once again in spot light.

"Harry, do you want to talk about it?" he knew that Sirius was seething, and without Remus in sight to keep him in check, he only hoped that he wouldn't go to pick a fight with dad, things were messed up as it was.

"It's not what it looks like." he pleaded quietly, berating himself for being so careless and pathetic.

"Oh I think it's exactly what it looks like Harry. Thank you Molly." he turned to take the small jar from the woman. She handed it to him mutely, unsure of what to say.

Severus would never do this, she knew that, the man was a perfect parent. The perfect parent, and strongly against corporal punishment, angry or not, he wouldn't leave a bruise this big on his own abused son's face. He couldn't have, could he?

Harry cringed as the cool substance was rubbed on his cheek, he heard Sirius muttering darkly and prayed to every God that Remus was waiting for them back at Sirius's place. Remus was the only one who could tame Sirius, or at least hold him back enough for dad to kill Sirius first.

"Where are you going?" Arthur asked, gesturing at them both when Sirius started ushering Harry to the fireplace.

"Out." Sirius seethed and then turned to face the whole red head family.

"Thank you for your hospitality Molly, Arthur, but I'm afraid Harry and I have some work to do." he said more politely and waited for Harry to say goodbye.

Harry frowned in confusion, but didn't say anything.

"Sorry for last night, I know I was being a bother. Thanks Ron, I'll talk to you later." he said quietly and turned to follow after his godfather.

"Harry dear?" Molly walked up to him and hugged him close. Stroking his hair. "He loves you, I know that he does, parents always make mistakes, but he loves you, be a good lad, alright?" she patted his cheek and pushed him into the fireplace, holding the floo jar for him.

Harry grimaced in response and grabbed a fistful before shouting out Grimmauld place, and disappearing in green flames.

The scene that met his eyes upon entering the kitchen was not one that he was expecting at all.

Remus was next to the stove, clearly cooking breakfast in his shirtless glory while Sirius furiously muttered in his ear.

Harry cleared his throat and knocked on the door, dropping down on a chair.

"Hello there prongslet, you hungry?" Remus smiled kindly, he came over and set a plate in front of Harry, kissing the boy on his head. Harry leaned in the kiss and smiled back.

"Starving, actually." he picked up his fork, strangely at ease, now that he didn't have to eat with the Weasleys.

"Sorry buddy, I forgot you haven't eaten at the Weasleys already." Sirius gave a sheepish grin and scratched his neck. Harry waved him off and devoured his eggs.

"The bruise should go by tomorrow though." Remus commented, gazing at Harry's cheek.

Harry washed down his toast with milk, before clearing his throat.

"It's not what it looks like." he said again, from Remus's solemn expression, he could tell that Sirius had given him a full summery. Damn, he cursed, this was getting harder and harder. Sirius was unstoppable with Remus on his side.

"Looks can be deceiving." Remus agreed gravely. Harry had a feeling he wasn't talking about the bruise.

The breakfast ended, but the interrogation, apparently had only started, Remus didn't even bother to put a shirt on before sitting on a chair across Harry, staring at him with narrowed eyes as if trying to figure him out.

Harry shifted in his seat, wringing his hands, the trio sat in silence for a while, he was pretty sure Remus was deducing him, draining out every juicy information he could get to use against dad later on without actually talking to Harry.

Harry wasn't stupid, the argument was inevitable. It was coming, and Harry knew it would hit like a typhoon.

Thankfully, or rather, unfortunately that did not happen that day. Or the day after that. Or the following days. Harry didn't dare say anything, the first few days he tried to chill out and laugh around with his uncles, after three days, when he decided that he really missed his dad, the Weasleys invited him for the world Quidditch cup.

He wanted to meet dad and ask for permission, but Remus already assured him that Dad had already agreed to it.

Now, that, Harry thought sounded off on so many levels. He knew his dad more than he knew himself, dad would never agree to such a thing after that argument without punishing Harry first, he hadn't even seen the man the last three days, and dad didn't seem that eager to talk to him at all.

It broke Harry's heart, whereas he should be happy and excited at the prospect of a Quidditch game, he now cried himself to sleep every night. He asked Sirius and Remus several times if dad had contacted them, but they firmly told him that they would talk to him on the matter later.

What was more strange though, was the fact that Harry was not lectured over his colorful language at all. In fact Sirius and Remus let him slip several times over the days he stayed over, even though he did some of it on purpose. Harry couldn't shrug it off, he felt like something else was going on, Dad had never allowed him to stay away without contacting him, asking him if he was alright, or at the very least send him a letter. Harry tried really hard not to show it, since the game was coming up in two days, but it was hard.

He knew that Sirius and Remus had argued with dad the moment Harry had went to bed the first night, and he had a sneaky suspicious that the Weasley patents were present too, Ron reported rather feverishly via floo the same night.

It was then, that Harry figured, maybe, just maybe, he was right after all. Maybe Ron was wrong and he wasn't overreacting, maybe dad /was/ really tired of him.

Maybe Janet had convinced him to finally let Harry go. At least dad didn't leave him off the streets like /they/ did, the mere thought made him want to cry. Again.

But dad wouldn't do that, would he? Dad loved him, all those years, when they lived together, all those hugs, kisses, those proud looks, the adoption, everything...
That couldn't have been a fluke, could it?

After pushing Sirius and Remus both to their limits, they both grudgingly agreed to let Harry write a short note asking for permission from dad. Harry thought this odd. This was /his/ dad, they had no right to keep Harry from his own father. Nonetheless he let it go this time.
Dad however responded to his letter with a single line written on a torn piece of parchment.

You may go.

That was it. No, kind words, no apologies, no scolding, no lecturing, nothing. Cold and distant, Harry didn't show it to anyone else though, he crushed the note in his sweat drenched hand and lied on his bed, not moving. Completely catatonic. It's been s while since he's done that last, a couple of years.

It wasn't by will though, he just felt so tired all the time specially now... Fortunately for him Remus was sleeping off a bad full moon and Sirius was at work. So he just laid there all day long, thinking of what would happen to him if he was officially homeless, would Sirius and Remus take him in? Perhaps the Weasleys? Maybe he could live with the Grangers for a while. Could dad even unadopt him?

His heart ached when he imagined the little baby, replacing him, and dad and Janet all living happily ever after... He closed his eyes after what he thought to be ages.

And went right to a restless sleep.

Xx

"Viktor I love you! Viktor I do...."

"When we stay apart my heart starts to beat for you!"

Harry sang along the twins, teasing Ron mercilessly. And Harry had to admit the Quidditch world Cup was exactly the distraction he needed, aside from his hectic home life, depressed thoughts and hopeless moping, this chaotic event was exactly the boost he needed to take his mind off of things. Mainly his dad.

"Looks like the Irish are showing off their pride." George commented, smirking smugly.

"It's not the Irish, we have to go. Now." Arthur Weasley went straight for their bags and pulled Ginny next to him.

"Dad.. What's happening?"

"We need to go. Now!" Arthur yelled, the children all bustled out of the tent, only to be met with chaos. Fire, spells, yells of pain and fear, Harry felt his heart immediately tighten.

"Fred! George! Take Ginny! Meet me at the Portkey!" Harry was dragged along his friends, lost in swarms of frightened people, pushing at him, dragging him, touching him. He hated it and felt panic closing his throat.

"Harry!" he was separated from his friends, in his blinded panic he realized that he was being kicked to the ground, stuck between the running crowd, and not able to get up. He chocked and pushed at his ears.

He had to count. Now. His life was in danger, he was tackled to the ground, he was frightened and scared, he wanted his dad more than anything and he had to count.

He clamped his lips shut. You die if you stay here, his mind told him. deatheaters would kill him in a heart beat if he stayed there lying on the ground. But he had tocount.

Oh god, he had no idea what to do, he needed his dad so bad, right now.He felt hot tears streaming down his mud stained cheeks and he shook his head, biting his lips in pain as another person kicked him in his side. No one paused to help him, no one even looked down to see him having a panic attack right under their feet. And Harry was helpless.

One. Another kick aimed at his face, knocking his glasses off, and Harry recoiled on the ground, crying quietly, his eyes closed and his hands pressed tightly to his ears, receiving kicks and blows here and there, some of the crowd even stepped on him while running in their haste.

Two. The smoke assaulted his nose and burned his throat, smoke was everywhere, everything was on fire and Harry had no idea what to do, because he didn't have his glasses.

Three. He definitely would die here, yells of pain erupted the deserted grounds, probably some of the unlucky victims left behind like him. And he was lying there, right in the plain sight. it was a matter of time before one of them found him.

Four. He realized with a surge of panic and sadness, that he never got to apologize to dad, he never got tell him how much he loved him, he didn't get to hug him, or smell the familiar scent of gingers and lavender on him for the last time. He would die and he hadn't told his father just how grateful he was for everything. For rescuing him, for loving him, for /wanting/ him when no one else did. He at least hoped they would be happy.

Five. Death sounded scary, Harry was scared, someone grabbed his elbow and yanked it away harshly, but Harry didn't open his eyes, he didn't stop counting. He never would.

Six. There were strange sounds everywhere, angry yells, screams, chanting, and a blinding pain shooting right through his scar, Harry was scared and sad. Not for dying, for leaving his friends and family, for leaving his daddy behind.

Seven. Images, memories, flashed before his closed eyes, his dad was in all of them, smiling at him, hugging him, kissing him, he was there when Harry got sorted, he was there when Harry couldn't sleep, he was there when Harry cried, when he was sick all night and Daddy stayed with him, he was there, always right beside him and he never thanked him. Maybe that was the reason why everyone hated him so much, he was so ungrateful. Daddy, he pleaded silently, in his own mind. Please come for me.

Eight. He realized the sudden silence, not daring to open his eyes, Harry remained still, his body on fire, his will burnt out, ready to die.

Nine. Someone was calling his name urgently, right over his clamped ears, the person hugged him close and picked him up, Harry vaguely wondered if he was dying yet. But the scent, the bitter smell of ginger, attacked his senses, Harry felt the person press his head to their chest, holding on tightly as the person ran, again there were screams, loud voices and harsh colors, familiar sounds and a harsh breathing down his neck, droplets of water landed on his face, tears that Harry knew that weren't his own.

Ten. Death shouldn't take this long, Harry decided, and not this painful, his body was on fire, every inch hurt, and the person hugging him that tightly was not helping that at all. Harry realized the only thing, keeping him conscious in that state was the sound of a frantic heart pushed to his ear, and the flow of tears that randomly landed on his cheeks. If death felt like this all the time, Harry couldn't blame Voldemort for wanting Immortality at all.

He sighed painfully, and brought his hand up, his fingers closing around the familiar soft material, that was undoubtedly black, he was eerily reminded of that night in the street, when it was raining, and Harry was scared. He didn't feel frightened anymore though, his head was pounding, he was probably dying and shaking like a willow, but he felt /safe/.

Dad hugged him closer, they were moving, but not quite, since Dad was sitting somewhere, and that somewhere was moving. Probably a vehicle. He was being rocked, he liked it, it's been a long while since he had hugged dad like this. Well not quite hugging, seeing as his hands were resting limply by his sides. Harry wanted to open his eyes, to tell dad not to cry, he hated it when dad did that, to tell him that he was alright, and unfortunately alive. But the sound that came out of his mouth, sent dad into a new wave of hysteria.

Dad squashed Harry's face to his chest, and rocked more urgently. As if it was the only things keeping Harry alive. And it did, in its own odd twisted way.

Harry wanted to tell dad to stop the rocking, right then it sounded so good and comfortable and cozy. Not that Harry was complaining though, but with the car and /his dad / both moving back and forth, Harry felt his gut churn in discomfort. He was feeling extremely nauseous.

"Shhh, Daddy's here, Shhh.... We're almost there." dad whispered softly in his ear. Harry whimpered again to let him know that he was still awake. Dad however, thought it was something else.

"Can't you move any faster?! What good are you Kingsley ?!!" his dad viciously snarled and then turned to Harry.

"Shhh, baby boy... Dad's here. Damn you! drive faster!!" it was almost comical, the difference between the two tone of voices dad used at the same time. He had this sudden urge to laugh, but spared the poor driver, since any sounds coming out of his mouth would be processed as a whimper in pain.

He blacked out for a while, for a /long/ while, because the next time he woke up he was pretty sure he was lying on an uncomfortable bed, with this annoying beeping sound right next to his head. And that stupid heat pressing on his left hand. He sighed in frustration.

Not sure that why he had woken in the first place, Harry laid still, slowly becoming aware of his surrendering. The antibiotic and the disinfectant smell made him want to wrinkle his nose, but again was unable to, due to something long and uncomfortable shoved up his nostrils.

"...I don't care about your damn rules! You let me to stay with my son or I'll... "

"Sir, you don't understand, we need to do..."

"He never sleeps without /his/ pillow! How dare you...."

Harry peeled his eyes open, curious to see what was all the yelling about, the first sound was definitely his father's, of that one he was sure. The second one however, sounded like a desperate nurse on the verge of tears. Hufflepuff. Harry concluded smugly. The sound was cut off abruptly and Harry opened his eyes widely, looking around.

"Sorry about that. I told Severus to keep it down." A feminine voice commented apologetically, Harry turned his head to face the voice, staring blankly at Janet's sheepish face.

Harry blinked when he realized the warm pressure on his hand, was actually Janet's hand on his palm. He wanted to pull away but but didn't have the energy. How odd. He thought.

"Do you want me to call a nurse? Are you in pain?" her concerned features leaned in closer to his face. Harry didn't respond, and just stared blankly at the woman.

"Maybe I should, call the nurse." she said firmly, and moved to stand, Harry gripped her wrist, Janet turned and stared at him with wide eyes. Harry pointed at the stupid strings in his nose with his other hand while scowling.

"Oh! Sorry about that one too, but it helps you breath, you punctured a lung. They couldn't heal it straight away." She sat back down pushing her hair out of her face.

"Dad?" he whizzed out, embarrassed by his own croaking voice.

The woman nodded vaguely.

"He's out in the corridor, screaming at the nurses." she stifled her laugh, pulling her hair in a high ponytail. Harry looked away, trying to hide the twitch pulling at
his own lips.

"Why?"

"Apparently they won't let him bring you, your pillow and favorite blanket, they're scared of infections. Do you want me to call him?"

Harry shook his head, and regret it almost immediately, his head as killing him.

"Or a nurse maybe?" she stood again, Harry grabbed her hand tightly and pulled her down. She raised her eyebrows but sank down on her seat.

"What happened?" he kept his voice down, his throat was burning.

"You were at the Quidditch cup, there was an attack. You got tackled to the ground. And well, kinda kidnapped for two minutes. Aurors got you before anything bad happened." she explained quietly, lowering her head.

Harry closed his eyes, recalling the memories.

"How long..."

"Two days. You'll be fine though. Was that all?" she asked, reclining her body away as if ready to bolt out of her seat to find a nurse. Harry shook his head. No, no he was not finished, in fact he and Janet had a lot to talk about. Harry was not about to leave without having his final words. He just had to make sure if his decision was a good one.

"Do.... Do you love him?" he asked quietly. He knew the answer to that, but he needed reassurance, needed to know if dad will be okay.

"Maybe we should have this conversation..." Harry cut her off and repeated his question.

"Yes Harry. I love him very much." she sounded honest enough, Harry decided, with a heavy heart.

"You... You made him happy when I couldn't." he confessed, breathing in deeply.

"Excuse me?"

"You made him happy, still do, a stranger just waltzed in his life and made him happier than his son ever could. I hate you for that." Harry said boldly. there was no point in lying when there was just the two of them. Talking like this, heart to heart.

"I'm sorry. I..." Harry held up his hand.

"Don't. Just...." He sighed, turning away.

"So you love him. You make him happy, and he loves you." Harry choked out, that was it, wasn't it? The happiness list he had made for himself when he was seven. His own little key to happiness.

He loved his daddy, he made his daddy happy and daddy loved him more than all of the other children in the whole wide world.

He still remembered that tiny little note he had wrote for himself, tucked safely in rabbity's plush chest. He closed his eyes, if there was anything that he would miss other than his dad, it would be that note and his rabbit. Tears circled in his eyes, but Harry blinked. Not now. He thought sternly.

"Harry..." Harry shushed her, glaring at Janet with disdain and desperation.

"And you're really pregnant?" he needed to know this one as well. Although the idea of Janet faking that just to piss on him was unlikely. But just to be sure.....

"Yes, but Harry you don't have to.." Harry interrupted her again.

"Please. Just, let me talk." he bit out, maybe the pain potions were wearing off, he thought.

She nodded, staring at him with as much desperation as he had.

"Do you love the baby?" he didn't want a repeat of himself, he knew that dad would love the baby, but anything could happen. Even though Harry hated the baby, he couldn't live with himself if something happened to it.

"Of course I do." she sounded confused, gazing at him with concerned blue eyes.

"Do you want to live with dad /and/ the baby?"

"And you, Harry I told you....."

"And I told you, to let me talk!" Harry snapped angrily. This woman was not making things any easier. At all.

She pursed her lips but stayed silent for Harry to continue.

"And... And, do you promise, to make him happy as you're doing now? I want him to be happy, can you do that?"

She nodded, wondering where this was going.

"Good. That's good. You have to be careful though, he gets really insensitive sometimes. But he loves you, just because he's a jerk sometimes doesn't mean that he doesn't love you." he couldn't take it anymore, he started to stutter, his chest was in agony either from the pain or the thought that he might never see his dad again.
Janet moved from his seat and sat on his bed, Harry looked away flushing in shame and anger.

What she did next made his heart burst out in shock, his pulse was basically tap dancing on the Heart monitor, the machine beeped madly. Harry could smell her soft perfume in the crook of her neck, her soft shiny black hair tickling his face. Harry lost it. He completely lost it, he grabbed at her shoulders and buried his wet face in her shirt.

"Let it out." that sentence made him undone.

"No!"

"Why do you hate me so much?" she asked with a hurt expression.

"I was jealous! So jealous, that he loved you more than me!" he sobbed loudly.

"/I/ was his son! He told me that he loved /me/!, and then /you/ came! And stole him away." he was pretty sure that he was making a fool of himself, and mentally prepared himself for Janet to push him away, sneering in disgust. He *hated* this woman, she ruined his life, it was her fault that Harry was like this. But deep down he knew, more than Janet, this was his own fault.

Maybe he hadn't tried hard enough, maybe if he had been more obedient, better, or at least not a freak, then maybe dad wouldn't have felt the need to fall in love
with Janet. Two different kinds of love. Harry knew that, but Harry had to lack somewhere to drive Severus away. Right?

Oh Merlin, he was already calling him Severus again, and dad hadn't even thrown him out yet. It wasn't Janet's fault, that he was a freak. He concluded.

she was just better than him in everything, that's what happens between the predator and the prey, the predator always wins, because it's better than the prey in every aspect.

The predator had everything that the prey lacked.
Harry was the prey. He was like the dirty rag no one wanted to touch. He had accepted that.

"It's okay." she was saying, rubbing circles behind his back.

Harry shook his head.

"No, it's not, it's not okay. I'm sorry, I really am sorry. You win okay? You win." he leaned back wiping his tears away, he looked at the damp spot he had left on Janet's red blouse, well at least that was something he could be proud about later. He mused.

"Harry..."

"I'm going. Don't worry, I just... Had to make sure. That he'll be happy you know?" he chuckled while crying, he closed his eyes. He wasn't sure about leaving a week ago. But now...

"What are you talking about? No one's making you leave Harry."

Harry laughed bitterly, shaking his head.

"I'm making myself leave , I'm going with Sirius to Australia, he offered me to move with them last week. And I think it's for the best." that was what that morning interrogation was about, Sirius's offer to live with him and Remus in Australia, to move away if he didn't want to stay anymore. Harry had freaked out on him, yelling and trashing and arguing, but Sirius just shrugged and said it was just a suggestion. Maybe he knew that he would accept it eventually.

"No you're not." a familiar voice snapped from the corner of the room. Harry's eyes widened, his head whipped towards the snarky voice.

"Dad..." he whispered, horrified that his dad had heard the whole thing. Dad marched to his bed, seething, cold dagger like rage shining in his eyes.

"Do you have any idea how worried I was? " his father growled, snapping his jaw. Harry leaned away, dropping his head.

"Well? Do you?"

"About what?" he asked timidly, grasping the hospital's blanket firmly.

"About what?! Worried that my son spent a whole night shivering in a barn! Worried that my son had a bruise the size of an apple on his face! Worried that you spent a whole week with a werewolf on a full moon?! Only sending a small note to ask permission for a damn Quidditch game?!! Or perhaps worried that /my/ son was stomped on and then tortured? What am I worried about?!"

He was breathing heavily, Harry had his head hung in shame, shaking a little. "Oh."

"I'm sorry." dad then said, he slumped down in defeat and hugged Harry tightly to his chest, tubs and all that stuff. Harry couldn't move. What did dad just say? His bottom lip trembled. it was like his whole world crumbling down all over again, all that hate, all that anger and sadness with one single sentence.

/the/ one sentence he was waiting to hear for a whole year. Harry almost didn't hear his dad continue on.

"I'm so sorry Harry, okay? Oh god, I'm a horrible person, a horrible parent, I'm so very sorry, for everything. I shouldn't have hit you, I shouldn't have yelled at you. I'm sorry, Harry I'm sorry." he was being rocked again, he wanted to smell dad's robes, the ginger and lavender, see if this was a dream or not, but the damn tubs in his nose didn't seem to cooperate...

"I love you Harry. You're my life, you're my everything, I'm so sorry, I really am. I made you feel like you weren't loved, and I'm sorry." the man continued, holding Harry close. Janet smiled over Harry's shoulder and left the room quietly, probably going to call a nurse. He was speechless.

"This is my fault alright? Not yours, Harry never yours, I love you, I love you more than anything, even Janet. Just tell me what to do and I will."

Dad still loved him. Dad wasn't like /them/. Dad loved him. the phrase sounded unbelievable, but hearing them from dad...

"I love you Harry. Can you hear me? You're my son, my child, not someone else's, I would never leave you, never Harry. I promise, this won't happen again. Ever again."

it was like the old times almost, when dad knew what Harry was thinking before Harry even got to open his mouth.

Harry remained speechless. He had waited for this moment so long and now he had no idea what to say, he didn't know how to react, he even thought that he had
forgotten how to cry properly. His mouth just opened and closed on their own accord. And the tears streamed down freely.

"Harry?" he held Harry at arm's length, inspecting his face.

"Are you in pain? Harry?" the smaller boy shook his head, his face still screwed in a wrinkled mess.

"What is it? Is it me? Am I doing something?" Harry shook his head again, and pursed his lips painfully.

"I...I waited...for so long." he chocked out, looking for words, his mind was blank, completely blank. How long had he waited to hear those words? A year? Was it really a year? Oh Merlin, he couldn't believe that he was carrying this heavy burden for a whole year. He felt so light, so /him/, he felt like Harry again.

"I'm sorry." his father whispered in his ear, stroking his messy hair gently. Harry could hear how much beat up dad was being about this. Part of him thought that he deserve it, but the majority, felt guilty for causing his dad any trouble at all. He cried harder.

"I... I... Thought... You... Didn't love me." it sounded pathetic, even to his own ears, it sounded petty and needy, something Aiden or Draco Malfoy would say. But Harry was tired of lying, of cryptic messages, he needed to say everything straight forward from now on, like he had done with Janet, yes he had hoped that dad would figure it out on his own, but if he had just /told/ him from the start, he wouldn't have been in this state a year later on a hospital bed in St. Mungo's. Harry cried for what seemed like hours. His eyes were red and he couldn't breath properly from his nose anymore.

"Never. I promised, didn't I?" Harry momentarily thought of the slap he had received last week, dad broke that promise. But didn't bring it up. This was his moment now, everything was going to be fine. Except....

"You don't want me to go?" he didn't want to go with Sirius now, but if dad wanted him to, Harry would be more than happy to respect his wishes. Now that he felt so light hearted everything seemed brighter, even living with Sirius half across the world.

"You dare set foot in Australia and you're grounded for life Harry." dad threatened in his best 'no kidding tone', the one he mostly used when Harry spent time with Sirius for so long. or got sugar high.

Harry smiled, it was like the old days. When he had his dad back. Harry then chuckled, leaning out of the hug.

"You won't believe what I just found out dad." the boy smiled cheekily. Snape narrowed his eyes into a glare mockingly. His eyes softened as he wiped the last remnant of tears off his son's face.

"Oh?" an arched eyebrow with a smile twitching on the man's lips.

Harry's grin widened. "Your middle name is Ashley?"

Severus turned around to see Harry's health chart hanging on by his bedpost and blushed, looking horrified.

Harry started laughing hysterically clutching at his sides. And then grimaced in pain. Time for medicine, he thought pulling a face, still laughing.

Severus smacked his leg. "Insolent brat. You better hope /I/ don't change your middle name to Ferdinand."

Harry mouthed the name, laughing loudly, he hugged his dad tightly. It won't be easy. He thought, there was still no way that he would ever get along with Janet. But that was okay, dad was there for him again.

"I love you dad." he mumbled, a small smile resting on his face.

"I love you too child. And Harry?"

"Yes, dad?"

"You're grounded, for three weeks."