Lunch was a quiet affair, with Harry, now calm, staring morosely into a cup of after-lunch tea.

Ice-skating had completely failed to distract the boy or raise his mood as Severus had hoped, thus leading Severus down another path. He did not usually approve of such juvenile antics, but in this case…

Severus stroked his chin as he stared at his charge. Harry looked drawn and fatigued. The boy’s hands had just the slightest tremble. Surely it couldn’t hurt, just this one time.

Severus pushed to his feet. Inside the makeshift lab, he gathered the various basic ingredients and set them out on the bench, along with his special gold cauldron, crystal stir stick, candied silver knife, and a mortar and pestle. By its volatile nature, the potion was likely to fail spectacularly in the boy’s hands, but that was the point, wasn’t it? They could worry about the clean up later.

Severus dug in a case of seldom-used ingredients to find what he was looking for. He wasn’t sure he’d packed everything that he needed. If he hadn’t, he would have summoned Dobby, but as it was, he needn’t involve the elf.

Walking back into the kitchen, he looked at Harry’s forlorn expression. “Time to get to work.”

Harry’s head jerked up at Severus’s voice. Automatically, Harry pushed to his feet. Severus marveled at the boy’s compliance, debating if it was an improvement or not. Dismissing the thought for the moment, he led Harry into the small pantry that doubled as a potion lab.

Tapping a piece of blank parchment with his wand, Severus let the sharp lines of his script pour onto the sheet. When the instructions were complete, he cast a charm to make them hover in the air.

Harry grabbed the sheet and set it on his work surface, but as soon as he let go, it bounced back into the air to hover before him once again. Shrugging his shoulders, Harry peered closely at the instructions and set to work.

Severus lingered in the doorway to the kitchen, ready to throw up a shield at a moment’s notice. The soon-to-be-sticky confection was ripe for mishaps, and he knew he could count on Harry when it came to potions accidents. Perhaps he was being a bit unfair; the boy had improved, after all, even showing talent in the subject when left to his own devices. Still, with as tired and distracted as the boy was…

Ahh, Severus smirked as Harry dropped too much sugar into the base. That should do it. But wait! Harry had caught himself, banishing the sugar before it hit the potion’s surface. Well, that was disappointing.

Severus shifted his weight to his other foot, waiting impatiently, as his quarry kept miraculously dodging disasters. He cocked his head to the side, wondering how it was possible that Harry-Distractible-Potter had so far avoided or corrected for every single thing that could have gone wrong--when it happened.

In his distraction, Severus didn’t raise his shield in time. One moment he was watching the gently bubbling cauldron of red, syrupy goo, and the next, he, Harry, and nearly the entire pantry were covered in the stuff.

There was an instant of horrified silence on Harry’s part as Severus pursed his lips and wiped the goo from his face. Then Severus watched as Harry removed his dripping glasses to reveal eyes clear and wide with trepidation. Nervously, Harry licked his lips, presumably in preparation to apologize or be berated.

Then, a dreamy expression stole across Harry’s candy-apple-red, potion-dripping face. His eyes slid out of focus, his lips swelled and reddened, and a broad grin stretched his cheeks taut. A bright crimson bubble, as small as a bumblebee, escaped from his mouth. Then another, slightly large one. Harry giggled and, as he did so, a whole slew of bubbles flew from his parted lips.

Giving in, Severus licked his own lips, enjoying the ridiculously sweet concoction that tasted of Maraschino cherries and jubilation. He opened his mouth to let out his own stream of bubbles.

By now, Harry was gripping his sides as he chortled with abandon. “What… is… this… stuff?”

Severus chuckled right along with Harry, his dignity long gone. “Silly Serum.”

Harry’s eyes boggled as more red bubbles poured from his mouth. “You’ve got to be joking.”

 “Have you ever heard me jest?” Severus asked around a mouthful of bubbles.

Harry shook his head and laughed harder. “I feel like dancing.”

“By all means, do,” Severus encouraged.

Harry began to tap his feet and snap his fingers, his eyes now streaming with mirth. “You are going to use this as blackmail material later, aren’t you?”

Severus gave a wicked grin as Harry began to hum and dance as he laughed. Severus, having experienced the effects of the potion before, was able to restrain himself from joining in, resorting to tapping one foot to the imaginary beat instead.

As the red bubbles began to pop all around them, Harry danced a jig and whooped with laughter. The boy’s smile was radiant, and Severus felt happiness for the first time in ages. He knew it wouldn’t last, that it was only the effect of the potion, but for now, he would enjoy it. If only he had a camera…

“Dobby!” Severus called, a devious smirk decorating his lips. At the sound of Dobby’s pop of Apparition, Severus could barely contain himself as he guffawed. “Bring a camera, if you please.”

“Do you mind if I go outside for a bit?”

Severus glanced up from the book he was reading to find Harry fidgeting and looking restless. The Silly Serum had long since worn off, and with it had come a side effect that Severus had forgotten: a solid case of the doldrums. “Do you require company?”

“No, it’s fine,” Harry said, waving Severus off as he walked toward the back door. “I won’t go far.”

Severus waited until he heard the door close before getting up to see where Harry was heading. He had assumed the boy would go to the shed to ask for who-knew-what. Instead, Harry walked to the edge of the garden to the place where they had buried David. As Severus watched, Harry wandlessly conjured a bouquet of flowers and laid them carefully on the headstone. Then he cleared away a patch of snow and sat on the frozen ground, his hands in his pockets, his head bowed. It wasn’t long before Harry’s shoulders began to shake as sobs racked the boy’s body.

Sighing, Severus stepped away from the window, giving Harry some privacy. A part of him felt he should go out and comfort the boy, but if Harry had wanted that, he would have requested Severus’s company in the first place. Ill at ease, Severus went to the kitchen instead to make them both some tea.

“DON’T TOUCH ME! DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME!”

Severus took a step back and crossed his arms. Awoken by Harry’s screams, Severus stood over the camp bed. He’d called Harry’s name several times, all to no avail. When he’d reached out to shake Harry awake, the response he’d received was not one he’d expected.

Now, Harry sat on the edge of his bed, his hair damp with sweat, his chest heaving. Without warning, he launched to his feet and bolted from the room. The sound of retching echoed from the WC moments later.

Severus let out a long breath. He debated going after the boy, but soon Harry was back, his shoulders set, his face scrubbed clean.

“Sorry,” Harry said as he dropped back onto his bed. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Severus waited as Harry fidgeted, clearly struggling to get something out.

“I don’t want to go back to sleep,” Harry finally said, his voice hoarse. Unable to sit still any longer, he got to his feet and began to pace.

“Every time I close my eyes, I’m on my hands and knees…” Harry clenched his fists and his jaw. “Those bastards,” Harry cursed.

Shards of green ice connected with Severus’s gaze. “I want to kill the lot of them,” Harry said through gritted teeth.

The windows began to rattle ominously in their panes. Severus shuddered at the uncontrolled pulse of angry magic that swirled through the room. “Harry…”

“They don’t deserve to live!”

The window nearest the sitting arrangement shattered.

Harry flinched. “Sorry,” he muttered, reaching for his wand on the bedside table.

Snape raised a hand to stop him. “No wand. No words.”

At Harry’s confused look, Snape clarified. “If you can melt a frozen lake without your wand, a simple Reparo should be easy for you.”

Harry shrugged. Staring at the space where the windowpane once was, Harry tightened his face in concentration.

Nothing happened.

“Tell me about your dream,” Severus said.

Harry’s hands and jaw clenched immediately. “No.”        

Severus took a step forward, eyebrow raised, boxing Harry in.

Harry stepped back, his cheeks flaming with anger. “Back off,” he hissed.

Severus took another menacing step forward, ignoring the uncontrolled magic that flared around him. “Use your anger, Harry. Use it to fix the window.”

When Harry hesitated, Severus continued his advance. It was a calculated risk.

An instant later, he landed on his arse across the room.

The windowpane gleamed in the moonlight, as good as new.

“Sorry.”

“You’ve said that already.”

“You’re sure you’re not hurt?” Harry asked the man sitting on the camp bed beside him.

“Perhaps my dignity. Nothing more.”

Harry ran a hand through his messy hair. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But you must.”

Harry sighed. He seemed to consider something and then pinned Severus with his most serious stare. “Who did you talk to when it happened to you?”

Severus sucked in a breath. He knew this would come up sooner or later, but he hadn’t expected Harry to be quite so direct. “I didn’t have anyone to talk to. I didn’t have any help at all, really. Only books.” Severus let out his breath. “I read and read and read, mostly Muggle books, a few Wizarding ones. I fed my brain data to compensate, but I didn’t deal with the emotional aspects of it.”

Severus met Harry’s gaze straight on. “I don’t want that for you, Harry. I don’t want you to be the shadow of a man that I’ve become.”

Harry’s gaze softened, his features filling with concern. “What happened?”

“Much the same as what happened to you, actually,” Severus admitted, his voice filled with derision. “I was a new Death Eater and quite full of myself. I thought to impress the Dark Lord with my cunning and creativity. Instead, he interpreted my actions as acting without orders and set out to make an example of me.”

Harry swallowed audibly. “So he…”

Severus closed his eyes and forced himself to spit out the vile words. “He made me strip naked and had his Inner Circle take turns abusing me. In front of all of the other Death Eaters.”

Severus felt Harry’s fingers wrap around his own. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Severus tensed but forced himself to relax. “Now it’s your turn.”

Harry pulled back his hand and hunched in on himself further. He was silent so long, Severus didn’t think Harry would speak. Finally, the boy said, “They ra-raped David first. Or, at least one of them did. I had to listen to his screams,” Harry sucked in a breath.

“It seemed to go on forever.” A shiver ran through the boy as he spoke. “I knew I was next, and the waiting... it was its own kind of torture.”

Harry dragged in a ragged breath. “I thought what they did to me, us, was the worst,” Harry paused, shaking his head in despair. “Until they dragged me up from my cell and dropped me at Voldemort’s feet.”

Harry dashed the tears away from his cheeks and swore. “I can still smell their sweat and their sour breath. The guards, Malfoy, the other Death Eaters. ”

Shivering, his fingers digging into the blankets, he said, “In my dreams, it happens all over again. I feel their hands on me… grabbing me… forcing my legs apart…” Harry cursed and turned away. “I feel them forcing themselves on me.”

Harry gritted his teeth, a muscle in his temple throbbing. “I want to fight, but I can’t move. I can’t sodding move.” Harry slammed a clenched fist down onto the mattress between them.

“I just want it to stop, but I’m surrounded by Death Eaters. They’re watching me like I’m a piece of meat, jeering and waiting their turn.” Harry gasped for air, pausing to catch his breath. “I know they won’t stop until I’m dead. Maybe not even then.”

Severus placed a hand Harry’s shoulder, but the boy shrugged it off.

With rage in his eyes, Harry turned to him. “I just want them to kill me already, so it will end. But I can’t die, and it doesn’t end. It never ends!” Harry sprang to his feet and began to pace. “I just keep reliving it over and over.” Grasping his hair in despair, Harry turned back to Severus. “Why didn’t I fight harder? Why didn’t I stop them?”

“Harry, you were surrounded by Death Eaters. There was no way you could have stopped them.”

“But I could have,” Harry insisted. “I can use wandless magic. Why didn’t I just blast them all away from me? What is wrong with me? I could have stopped them, I could have fought them off, I could have…”

“Harry, Harry! Stop that. Let go of your hair. Give me your hands. Here, look at me. Look. At. Me. Take this. Harry, please. Open up. Drink. There you go. Now come here and sit down. There. Sit. Stay still. Here, drink the rest, you’ll feel better. There. There now. Shhhh, come here. It’s all right. It’s over now. You’re safe. I promise. You’re safe now.”

Severus let out a sigh as Harry stopped hammering on Severus’s chest and finally collapsed, exhausted, against him. Harry’s anger had cycled from rage to despair to self-loathing so fast it made Severus’s head spin. He’d managed to disengage Harry’s clawing hands from the boy’s hair, only to bear the brunt of the boy’s anger, before finally getting a calming draught down him.

He loosened his grip on the boy as he held Harry against his chest, absorbing the weight of Harry’s devastation. With his free hand, he rubbed Harry’s back, waiting for the boy to calm.

“I feel so dirty, so used...” Harry forced out against a sob. “No one will ever want me after what they did to me.”

Severus instinctively tightened his grip. “You are not what they did to you, Harry. You are still you. No one can take that away from you.”

Shaking his head, Harry muttered words against Severus’s chest that he couldn’t make out.

“Trust me, Harry,” Snape said, his voice filled with conviction. “You will get through this. I’ll see to it that you do.”

Whimpering, Harry burrowed further into Severus’s chest and wept.