"I did not ask for your opinion Potter," Snape snapped.

"It just sort of slipped out," Harry said. "I've always wanted a bedroom."

"So you said before," Severus drawled. He'd been stuck with the annoyingly truthful brat for the last week and he'd had a headache ever since. He wanted to snap out that this was not his bedroom, that he was just stuck there temporarily, but Severus reminded himself that this very well could become the boy's bedroom for the foreseeable future if he couldn't find a cure for his incessant truth telling. The Headmaster had gone so far as to tell him that he would be homeschooling the boy if he couldn't find a remedy, until such a time as Voldemort was defeated.

"There is no need to unpack anything," Snape told Harry instead of screaming at him that this was all his fault.

Harry nodded and sat his bag down on the bed. "Yes sir. This is really all I have anyway." It was the truth. Severus knew it was because of the Veritaserum poisoning, but he still didn't want to believe it. At this point, if he said this was all he had, there was nothing Severus could say against it, even if he wanted to believe the boy had hordes of clothes, books and toys stored away in his trunk in Gryffindor tower.

"There are rules Potter," Severus said, eyeing the small bedroom again. He could have put the boy in the larger spare room in his house, but he didn't want to. He eyed every little nick and scuff and blemish and memorized them so he could chastise Potter for any new damage he caused later on. When his eyes came back around to the messy haired Gryffindor and he realized he was waiting to hear his rules, Severus cleared his throat. "You are to keep yourself well kept at all times. This means a clean body and well trimmed and brushed hair. You will keep the spare room tidy at all times. You will clean up after yourself in the bathroom and any other part of the house. Messes will not be tolerated. You will do as you're told, when you're told, and without argument. When I am in my lab working or in the library studying, you are to leave me alone. The sooner I can find a counter potion the sooner you and I will be able to return to Hogwarts."

"Yes sir," Harry said when it was clear his Professor was waiting for him to say something.

"Come to the kitchen for a haircut."

Snape swept out of the room and Harry jumped off the bed and followed. "Aunt Petunia cut off all my hair one time but it grew back overnight."

"Just because you must speak the truth when you speak, does not mean you have to speak Potter," Snape said, annoyed as he rummaged through a kitchen drawer looking for scissors. Harry thought it over though and decided that he did have to speak. Just having it in his head wasn't good enough. The poisoning made him feel compelled to tell it until it was heard. Harry had had to learn the hard way not to let his mind stray to certain topics or else he'd blurt out things about them now. It was almost like he had that muggle disease that made people say things whether they wanted to or not.

"Yes I do," Harry said. "It's your fault. The poisoning is making me say what comes to mind." He clamped a hand down over his mouth, eyes wide. He hated that he couldn't keep things to himself anymore. Snape spared a glare for him, the kind that he reserved only for him, and then turned back to the drawer, where he pulled out a pair of kitchen scissors.

"Sit on the stool Potter."

"Yes sir. I'm sorry sir. Please don't cut all my hair off. I don't want you to get mad when it all grows back. It's not my fault really, and I don't want a beating for it."

"I'm not going to beat you," Snape snapped. He wondered for a moment if he should have said that, as it took all his power away but the Headmaster had mentioned that the boy had been blurting out things about his home life and that they weren't pleasant. He was apparently already scared and didn't need to be anymore so to behave. At least, that's what Albus and Minerva had both told him. He didn't know exactly what Potter had revealed to them but he bet he'd told them he'd gotten a spanking and they had overreacted and read more into it than was really there. "Sit still."

Harry stilled and became stiff as a board. Severus wondered at how obedient he was being as he cut off an inch of hair here and two inches there until everything was neat and even. His mother had taught him to trim hair once when he was a boy and he had done almost a decent job of it. The boy at least looked presentable now. "Get up. Go look in the mirror if you must. The bathroom is the first door down the hall."

Harry hurried down the hallway and came back a few minutes later, looking relieved. "It looks good sir," he said. "I've never had a good haircut before. I try to cut it myself but I'm not good at making things even."

Severus narrowed his eyes. Why had the boy's family simply not taken him to a barber? That would have been the simplest thing to do instead of leaving it to the boy to take care of just because his accidental magic had grown his hair back after one bad haircut by his aunt. He decided he didn't want to know enough to ask and have the boy ramble on about it.

"Are there any Christmas decorations?" Harry clamped his hand down over his mouth again. Clearly he didn't enjoy revealing his own private thoughts. Severus sneered anyway.

"No, there are no decorations. This is my home Potter, not a school or hotel."

Hand still clamped down over his mouth, Harry nodded to acknowledge that he understood. He had a strange look on his face, but Severus ignored it.

"Go to the spare room and find something to read."

Harry let his hand fall. "I don't have anything to read."

"A schoolbook will suffice."

"I don't have any schoolbooks sir."

"Then it is your own fault for not packing any. I told you to bring everything you would need for two weeks from your dorm."

"I mean sir, I don't have any schoolbooks to pack. I never got to get any. I always borrow from Ron or the Library."

Snape narrowed his eyes. "Why pray tell, did you not buy what was on your supply list for the year?"

"I wasn't allowed to go to Diagon Alley this year."

"Why not?"

Harry clamped his hand down over his mouth and tried to turn away. Brat, Severus thought. He was going to find a way to lie even when he couldn't keep the truth to himself.

"Do you have parchment and something to write with?"

Harry turned, hand still on his mouth, and nodded.

"Then write a letter to Madam Pince requesting reading material for two weeks, and use your owl to send it."

Harry nodded and then hurried from the room and down the hallway to the spare room. After the door was closed he could hear Harry speaking but couldn't hear what he was saying. He was probably saying all the things he'd kept himself from saying minutes earlier.

In the room, Harry was relieved to be able to say everything his mind wanted him to say. He tried to whisper it in case Snape was listening, even though his body seemed to want to shout the truth at the top of his lungs. He shook his hand out over and over trying to get the pain to subside from where he'd bitten down hard to keep himself from speaking. Pain seemed to be the only thing that could keep him silent for the few extra moments he needed to escape the situation. Luckily he hadn't drawn any blood this time.

Harry sat down at the desk and pulled out a Muggle pencil and parchment and began a letter to Madam Pince.

‘Professor Snape thinks I'm stupid for not having any reading material with me. He told me to ask you to send me something to read that will keep me busy for two weeks. Can you please send me some books about Quidditch and maybe a novel? Thank you.' He signed it with his name and used Hedwig to send it off. He only hoped she sent him something he would want to read, though he knew she probably would. Madam Pince was strict about her books and how the Library was used, but she knew what every student in school read and checked out. Harry had long suspected there was some kind of magic in place that kept records of books students had pulled off the shelves, probably just so she could know who was responsible for any damage done.

After Hedwig had left with the letter, Harry sat on the bed and fell backwards onto it to stare at the ceiling. What was he supposed to do until Hedwig got back?

Harry let his mind wander for a few minutes back over his last two weeks at school before Christmas break. After Snape had caught him in the dungeons after curfew and forced him to drink Veritaserum, things had gone south rather quickly. Harry couldn't remember all of it. He had fallen to the floor and nearly hit his head on the corridor wall and stayed conscious just long enough to see a surprised look on his Professor's face. After that he'd woken up in the Hospital Wing with Madam Pomfrey hovering over him and Ron sitting in a chair beside his bed. Ron wasn't able to believe at first that Harry was willing to spill all of their secrets in front of Pomfrey, Dumbledore, and even Snape. That was when Madam Pomfrey had broken the bad news that Harry was doomed to forever tell the truth. It was a rare side effect of being given Veritaserum when you're allergic to it. It didn't happen to all people who were allergic, but Harry was one of the unlucky few in the last several centuries.

At first they had let Harry go back to classes, but that had only lasted a few days. Once his classmates, (especially the Slytherins), had figured out that he must now tell the truth, they began asking him all sorts of embarrassing questions. Harry had been asked everything from which girl he liked best at school, to if he wore deodorant, to what exactly he thought of Draco Malfoy. Professor McGonagall had sequestered him back in the Hospital Wing after that, and then it was only a few days until Professor Dumbledore sentenced him to spend the rest of the term with Professor Snape in the dungeons. A substitute had taken over Snape's classes for the last week, and Harry had done his last week of schoolwork by himself. Ron and Hermione had been allowed to visit with him briefly once per day to bring him notes and school assignments, but the visits were short and Harry was left feeling all alone. The problem was, he was never alone as Snape was always somewhere nearby.

At first Snape had also asked Harry a variety of questions. They were usually questions about his past wrongdoings and intentions to do wrong in the future. In the first few days Snape had learned who had stolen ingredients from his stores to brew Polyjuice, whose idea it was to go after Quirrell in first year, how many times Harry had snuck out after hours in his entire time at school, and how many pranks Harry had played on the Slytherins, (thankfully the number was zero, which confused Snape for some reason, but Harry didn't care if he was confused, he only cared that he wasn't in trouble for something he didn't do).

At some point Harry must have dozed off, because he was startled awake some time later by Snape telling him off. "Napping is the best thing you could find to do?"

Harry sat bolt upright and tried to ignore the racing of his heart. "Sleeping's not allowed!" he said, voice panicked. "I'm sorry sir, it won't happen again, I swear."

Snape sneered. "I never said you were not allowed to sleep Potter." He shook his head and disappeared back into the hall. Harry listened for the sound of his receding footsteps and heard a door open and close a moment later. He let out a relieved breath. He hadn't said sleeping wasn't allowed, but the Dursleys had. Naps were strictly forbidden, even when he was being locked in his cupboard for punishment and had nothing to do. If someone opened his cupboard door and found him sleeping during the day, his time in the cupboard was extended by a day or two.

Rubbing his hand through his now short hair, Harry sighed. It was too difficult trying to live with Snape. The man was strict like the Dursleys but he had completely different rules and expectations. The week in the dungeons was difficult as it was, and then Harry had been staying in a guest room and had barely seen Snape except when the man came to draw some blood or give Harry a potion to see if it would cure him. Now he was living in the man's house for the holiday. Or at least Harry hoped it would only be for the holiday. For the first time, Harry suddenly wished he knew a lot about Potions. Then he could cure himself instead of being held hostage here by Snape.

* * *

Piles of books had been pulled out and organized in stacks on the desk in the library where Severus sat studying. Occasionally he muttered to himself and wrote an ingredient down or made a notation in the margins of one of his books. He had to figure out a solution to his problem, or else Potter would be his problem for the foreseeable future... perhaps even forever.

Rubbing his tired eyes, Severus closed the red book he was finished with and set it on the appropriate stack, and then picked up a book with gray binding. He startled when he heard Harry shout from somewhere upstairs, "I'm hungry!"

"Brat," he growled. Let him go hungry for all the trouble he had caused.

It was only a moment more before Harry shouted louder, "I'm really hungry!"

Severus stood abruptly and stomped out of the room and up the stairs. The guest bedroom door was closed, but he threw it open.

"Potter!"

Harry flattened himself against the opposite wall, hands clamped firmly over his mouth and eyes wide.

"Cease your incessant racket! I have never met such a rude person in my life. You are a guest in this house and you will act like one, not like a spoilt brat."

Harry clamped his eyes closed and nodded, hands still over his mouth. Severus left and went downstairs, but came back a few minutes later with a bag of crisps and an apple.

"Here Potter. Eat and be silent!" He stormed out of the room and Harry waited until he heard the library door slam closed downstairs before he pulled his hands away from his mouth. He was dismayed to find they were bleeding. He'd bitten them too hard to keep himself from shouting about his hunger, and from contradicting his Professor to say he was a prisoner here, not a guest.

Harry generally never told a soul when he was hungry, not even Ron or Hermione. No one had ever cared if he was hungry before or not, so he'd learned early on to keep it to himself. His stomach had been grumbling for hours though, and eventually he'd run out of things to think about and his mind had drifted to dinner. It was seven o'clock and the Professor hadn't come out of the library to fix anything yet. Harry had been told explicitly to leave Snape alone when he was in his library studying, so he'd spent his time in his room trying to think of anything but food.

With a sigh, Harry sat down and opened the bag of crisps. It wasn't dinner, but it was better than he usually got at the Dursleys, and he said as much out loud, trying to be as quiet as he could.

"Damn my hands hurt," Harry said to himself, thinking out loud. "MY- umna wumpf hurmf." Harry huffed in irritation as he covered his mouth to keep from shouting loudly about his hands hurting so the house's only other occupant could hear. His hands stung from the contact and he pulled them away to look at them. "This isn't gonna work," Harry said. Maybe he could bite a pillow or his arm or something else to keep from shouting.

When the apple was gone, Harry decided to get into his pajamas and go to bed. He hoped Hedwig would be back by the morning with something interesting to read.

"No nightmares, no nightmares," Harry pleaded with himself as he climbed into bed. He didn't want Snape to come upstairs angrily again if he was shouting in his sleep. Pulling the covers up over his head in an attempt to muffle any sounds he might make, Harry fell into an uneasy sleep, the stinging of his hands following him into his dreams.

* * *

Instead of waiting until he was so hungry he had to shout it at the top of his lungs, Harry made his way downstairs the next morning and into the kitchen. Was he allowed to get himself something to eat here? That sort of thing was never allowed at the Dursleys, but Harry found a clean bowl, spoon, and box of flavorless cereal sitting on the kitchen table and decided to take a chance. He'd rather risk getting yelled at for stealing Snape's food than biting his tender hands again. Giving his red and swollen fingers a look of disdain, Harry poured himself a bowl of cereal and ate it dry, not wanting to get into the man's fridge for milk, and then bolted back up the stairs and into his room. Hedwig was waiting for him when he got there.

"I'm so glad you're back girl," Harry said with relief. She was standing on top of two books and a Quidditch magazine from 1978. Harry thumbed through the magazine for a moment and then set it on the bed and looked at the other two books. They were both novels. One was about a Muggle who got to go on crazy adventures with a friend who happened to be a wizard, and the other was about two students at a French school called Beauxbatons who had to solve some sort of mystery. Harry opted to read through the Quidditch magazine first, but was dismayed when he was finished with it after only half an hour.

Making up his mind to write to Madam Pince right away again so he wouldn't have to sit in his room bored for another day, Harry pulled out his last piece of parchment and tore it in half. On one half he wrote a letter thanking Madam Pince and asking her to send more Quidditch Magazines. On the other half he wrote a note to Ron asking if he could borrow all of his Quidditch Magazines, and explained about having nothing to do and being stuck in his bedroom for the holiday. He sent both letters and the magazine off with Hedwig and told her to go to Hogwarts first. He hoped Ron would come through, because he knew Ron and his brothers had a huge stack of Quidditch magazines dating back at least ten years.

Near lunch, before Harry could start shouting about his hunger, Snape came upstairs and handed Harry a phial of silver liquid. "Drink this."

Harry did as he was told and then stared at Snape expectantly.

"Well?" Snape asked.

"I think you liquified your dirty old socks and are trying to poison me."

Snape glared and turned to leave. Obviously the antidote hadn't worked. "Lunch is on the table Potter," Snape said with disgust, and disappeared back downstairs.

Harry went downstairs and found a sandwich and an orange on the table with a glass of water.

"I'm so happy for lunch," Harry said to himself, picking up the sandwich. "This looks delicious." Harry didn't know Snape was in the next room eating his own lunch and listening to Harry go on about the food, which he did for at least another minute. From the way the child went on about the simple turkey sandwich, Severus would have thought the boy had been starved. He knew he'd eaten breakfast though because the cereal bowl he'd left out for him was gone when he'd come out of the Library to fix lunch. Not wanting to talk to Potter if he didn't have to, Severus waited until the boy went back upstairs before going back into the kitchen to do the dishes. He was surprised that Potter had washed his plate and cup, but didn't think overlong on it as he had other pressing things to mull over.

So far he'd tried every antidote that could possibly help Potter, and nothing had worked. Short of coming up with an entirely new antidote, Severus didn't know what to do. Veritaserum had a short half-life and in most people wore off in an hour, but in Potter for some reason, and in the few other documented cases of this ailment, it wasn't wearing off.

Rubbing his temple as he made himself a cup of coffee and then went back into the Library, Severus stared at the list of ingredients for Veritaserum. There were thirty two things on the list, most of them common, but a few rare. Perhaps Potter was having a reaction to one or more ingredients, but why? What if instead of coming up with an antidote, he gave Potter something to counter each ingredient on the list? That would be long and tedious and require more research, but he didn't have another plan. It was too bad he couldn't just fill the boy's stomach with bezoars. That had been his initial thought and he'd given it to the boy as soon as he'd keeled over in the Dungeon corridor after taking the Veritaserum.

With a sigh, Severus set to work writing down counter ingredients he already knew for those on the list. Then he rose and began putting his many stacks of books away, and began pulling new ones from the shelves.

* * *

Madam Pince had denied Harry's request for more magazines and told him to read the novels she'd sent him instead. Only when Harry had written a detailed summary of each novel, she said, would she send him more books. Having little else to do, Harry had begun the novel about the Muggle and wizard, and was five chapters in when Hedwig came back with a box from Ron tied in twine and spell-o-taped together.

"Excellent. I knew you'd come through," Harry said. He pulled the twine off the box and opened it eagerly. There were three Quidditch magazines, a letter from Ron, a letter from Ginny, a letter from Fred and George, and an assortment of other Magazines that had apparently been added into the box at the insistence of Ron's siblings. Harry was amused to find sticky notes attached to each Magazine indicating who had put it in the box and why. There was one from Percy called, "Hogwarts Prefects - Where Are They Now? Volume 27, with a note encouraging Harry to get into less trouble so he could become a Prefect like Percy, and perhaps someday Head Boy. Ginny had included a magazine Harry sometimes saw Seamus and Neville reading called, ‘Wiz Teen Today. Vol. 182.' He flipped through it and found an article about the Weird Sisters that caught his eye, and he read it before moving on to look at the other magazines that had been sent to him. "Inventors Monthly," Harry read the title of two of the magazines the twins had sent him. The magazine actually looked interesting, as it was about wizards who invented spells, potions, curses, and magical objects like brooms. The final magazine was about Dragons. It had been Charlie's, and Mrs. Weasley had thought Harry would find it interesting.

Harry spent half an hour reading through the letters the Weasley's had sent him, and had just moved on to one of the Inventor's Monthly magazines when Snape came back into his room.

"Eat this."

Harry frowned. "What is it?" It was green and slimy.

"Dessicated algae."

"That's disgusting. I'm going to throw up if I eat that and then I'm going to have to clean it up, and then you're going to yell at me, and then-" at the look Snape was giving him, Harry put his hands up over his mouth and muffled the rest. "It'll help?" Harry asked.

Snape didn't answer and instead only continued to hold out the small cup of algae. Harry took it, pulled a face, and swallowed it down whole, trying not to gag and failing. At least it stayed down though.

Snape's eyes roved over the magazines and parchment scattered over the bed. "You said all you owned was in the bag. Surely Madam Pince did not send you all magazines."

"The Weasley's sent them." Harry beamed. "I love the Weasleys."

Snape walked to the bed and picked up the magazine about Prefects. "You intend on becoming a Prefect?" he said skeptically.

"Percy sent that," Harry said. "I only asked for Quidditch Magazines but they sent me a lot of different things to read."

"You are making a nuisance of yourself to everyone Potter," Snape said, disgusted, dropping the Prefect magazine back on the bed. "You were told to write to Madam Pince, not every person you know."

"I'm not allowed?" Harry asked, wanting to be sure he was being given a rule.

Snape sneered at him. "Do not write to anybody else." Snape turned and left before he could see Harry's fallen face and hunched shoulders. Now Harry really was alone, he thought, and he felt every bit of it. It wasn't very fair, was it? And before Harry knew it, he was shouting and having to clamp his hand down over his mouth so Snape wouldn't stomp back into the room and shout at him again. By the time Harry was able to pull his hands away from his mouth several minutes later, his fingers were bleeding freely and were fairly bruised. Harry used the less injured of his two hands to get into his bag and pull out an old white shirt that had stains on it. With some difficulty he ripped it in half and wrapped each half around a hand to stop the bleeding. He supposed after the bleeding stopped he could wash the shirt off in the bathroom sink and let it dry and then use it again the next time. This was going to be one of his worst Christmases ever, he decided. "Worst Christmas ever," he said quietly to himself, and then he gingerly pulled the Inventor's magazine over to himself to read, hoping to take his mind off of everything that was wrong with his life.

* * *

Several days had passed since the Weasley's had sent him the magazines, and each of those days had brought Snape up to his room to feed him some disgusting ingredient or other. Anything from toad livers to dried dandelions. Harry had moved on to biting his arms to keep himself quiet and had put on his threadbare thin sweat jacket with a hole in the elbow to cover up the bitemarks. The sweat jacket also worked in his favor because he could pull his hands up into the sleeves to hide the increasingly worrying marks there.

Harry tried to read the novels Madam Pince sent to keep himself occupied, but as the days wore on, his hands hurt worse and he felt like he was getting sick. He was certain he had a fever and spent most of his time in bed covered in the plain brown blanket and sleeping. Snape hadn't been up to his room in almost two days and Harry hadn't heard anything from him other than when the man called him downstairs for meals. Harry supposed he must have been sleeping heavily and must not have heard Snape calling him for dinner one evening because he woke to find the man sneering down at him.

"Sleeping again Potter? Even your father was not so lazy."

Harry tried to push himself up to a sitting position, forgetting about his hands, and ended up hissing in pain. "Ow. I'm sorry, ow ow." He bit his lip to ensure his mouth stayed closed and tried not to look at Snape in case any tears escaped his eyes. Crying wasn't allowed, it had never been.

"What Potter?" Snape asked impatiently.

Harry shook his head and brought his sleeved arm up to his mouth so he could bite down on it, though he tried to find a spot that was not yet bruised or otherwise injured to do so.

Severus eyed the boy carefully. The Gryffindor was being careful not to meet his eyes, and was obviously trying to keep himself from talking by stuffing his arm in his mouth. Eyes roving over the boy as he sat there in bed, Severus noted that several of the fingers on the one hand he could see were darker than the others. At first he thought the fingers were stained with ink, but it didn't look like ink.

Without warning Snape's hand shot out and snatched Harry's arm, pulling it out of his mouth and away from him.

"Ow," Harry said, hissing in pain. "I'm sorry, ow." He bit his lip again in a vain attempt at keeping the truth from spilling out, but Snape was examining his bruised and injured fingers now and there was nothing for it.

"I'm sorry sir," Harry said in earnest, still trying to keep the tears back from the pain of having his hand turned over and examined. "I'm sorry, I swear, please don't hit me."

Snape dropped the hand as if he'd been scalded and stared at him. "What have you done to your hand?"

Harry went to cover his mouth again but Snape suddenly had both wrists held firmly before Harry could bring either hand up to his mouth to stop himself.

"Telling the truth isn't allowed. I have to bite something to stop from saying the truth."

"A pillow wouldn't have sufficed?" Snape spat, angry, though Harry thought the man sounded just as equally horrified.

"The pain makes me think of something else," Harry said, feeling it was more and more certain now that he'd be punished. "If you have to hit me please don't do it on my hands or arms sir," he pleaded.

"Brat," Snape said, disappearing back out the bedroom door. Harry let out a sigh of relief and let his head fall back to the wall. He couldn't believe he'd been left alone and wasn't going to get in trouble! But Harry's relief only lasted for a few moments, as Snape strode back into the room a minute later with several jars and a wet cloth. He brought a chair over to the side of Harry's bed and sat in it and began unscrewing the lids from the jars.

"Give me your hands," he said, and Harry held out his hands reluctantly, hoping whatever was in those jars wasn't meant for causing pain. "Is it going to hurt?" Harry asked.

"Your wounds are clearly infected. It is not possible to clean and disinfect the injuries without it hurting."

"You're not putting acid on my fingers then?" Harry asked. It seemed plausible to him, after having already been poisoned once that it could be on the man's agenda again.

Snape sent him a warning glare and then went to work washing Harry's hands gently with the wet rag. After that task was complete (with Harry yelping and saying ow every few seconds), Severus spread two different salves on his hands and open wounds. When he was done he told Harry to take his sweat jacket off and Harry did as he was told.

"I never said you weren't allowed to tell the truth Potter," Snape spat when he saw the bite marks on his arms. These didn't look as bad as the ones on Harry's hands, but Harry had only been biting his arms for a couple days now.

"You said just because I have to tell the truth doesn't mean I have to speak," Harry recited. "But I do have to speak. I can't help it. You were so mad when I shouted I was hungry. I didn't want to get hit so I started biting my hands to keep from yelling it anymore." Harry thought about it for a minute as Snape began cleaning the bite marks on his arms and then added, "Being hungry isn't allowed."

"You are allowed to be hungry Potter," he snapped, but Harry was shaking his head and biting his lip hard enough that Severus was sure he would draw blood there too trying to keep himself from speaking.

"Speak Potter. You cannot keep hurting yourself to stay silent."

"Being hungry isn't allowed," Harry said, eyes snapping up to Snape's fearfully, wondering what kind of punishment he'd receive for contradicting him.

"I just told you it was."

"But it's not," Harry insisted. "Uncle Vernon said so. I'm not allowed to ask for food or say I'm hungry."

Severus stopped cleaning Harry's arm and looked up at him. "You are not allowed to ask for food at home?"

Harry shook his head. "Being hungry's not allowed."

"And how often are you hungry at home?"

"Always," Harry said. It was the truth, and Severus knew it was. He went back to cleaning Harry's arm quietly and they stayed silent for almost two minutes.

"If you are hungry here you may go to the kitchen and fix yourself something to eat."

"From- from the fridge?" Harry asked.

"Where else Potter?" Snape huffed quietly, still trying to take in the information he'd just been told and wanting peace and quiet to think it over.

"When everyone's in bed or out of the house I take what they threw away."

Severus raised his eyes to look at Harry but didn't stop cleaning the dried blood from his bruised and damaged arm. "It's that bad?" he asked. "That you have to take from the rubbish bin?"

"If I'm good and get all my chores done I'm allowed to have whatever they don't eat at meals," Harry said. "But I'm still hungry after so when they're not looking I get whatever they threw away. I'm not allowed to get food from the fridge or cupboard." He started biting his lip again and Severus gave him a stern look.

"You are no longer to bite yourself or hurt yourself in any other way. Am I understood? That is not allowed."

"It's not fair sir," Harry said honestly. "Everybody else gets to keep their secrets to themselves but I'm not and you keep asking questions that make me have to tell."

Severus switched to cleaning dried blood off the other arm as he thought about it. He supposed it was unfair, and it may have been marginally unfair to take advantage of the situation and to ask Harry the myriad of questions he'd asked about his wrongdoings at Hogwarts. He was reminded forcefully once again in that moment that Harry wouldn't be in this situation if he hadn't dosed him with veritaserum in the first place.

"You're mad at me," Harry said, and Severus looked up. He must have been scowling.

"Not at the moment," Severus said. He was angry, but not so much at the boy as himself and at the Muggles the boy lived with. Who kept food from a child? Perhaps the same kind that didn't give him a bedroom of his own or take care of his hair. If he didn't have a bedroom, where did he sleep then? It would be unfair to ask he reminded himself, so he didn't.

After applying more healing salve and bruise balm to Harry's arms, he was finally done.

"The sweat jacket is ruined," Severus said. "I will not be able to remove the blood from the inside."

"It's the only coat I have," Harry said.

It wasn't a coat at all, Severus thought, looking at the threadbare thing in disgust. It wasn't even fit to be a rag and was so thin he doubted very much it kept the boy warm.

"Drink this," he said, handing Harry an antibiotic potion.

Harry did as he was told and didn't make comment about the taste, so Severus thought it must not have been disagreeable to him.

"Go back to sleep Potter. I will bring dinner to you in a while." Snape left and Harry frowned after he'd gone and shut the door.

"Weird," Harry said to himself. "That was so weird." And it was, because other than being scowled at several times, Harry hadn't gotten in trouble at all, and he was so certain he would have. "It's not fair," he said to himself again, still thinking that he'd have no secrets left at the end of this ordeal, that was if the ordeal ever did end.

He looked down at his hands and arms covered in salve. "Feels better," Harry said as he settled himself back down under the covers, and before he fell back into a doze, he said to himself, "Biting's not allowed. S'a rule now."

She'd also brought two new novels for Harry, and taken the old books she'd previously sent to him as well as the summary's Harry had written. Severus had never thought Potter to be a reader, but the Gryffindor was eager to get his hands on the new reading material, and went happily back to the guest room to settle in with the books. Severus also settled in with his, and spent several evenings reading late into the night and taking notes. Severus' hypothesis was that genetics played a role in who might get this condition and who would not, but none of the people he researched were related, not even when he traced back their lineage for seven or eight generations. There were similarities he found between them though.

For instance, several of the people afflicted with Harry's condition had been spies. Several were also children, and what was interesting about these cases was the books indicated each of them was suddenly moved to new homes or new families, though none of the histories indicated why. Two of the cases were women, both of whom died shortly after being poisoned. One of the women was a witch in the dark ages and was burned by local Muggles. There was also a Warlock in the dark ages who was afflicted, but he was also burned shortly after being poisoned.

Severus pondered over the stories of these people and the notes he'd taken on them for a long time. Perhaps all of these people had secrets that were simply too big to tell and no one to tell them to. Was that the common denominator? The spies for instance made their living keeping secrets and therefore could not tell them. The poisoning made them tell their secrets to everybody.

The dark ages witch and warlock probably only had the one secret, that they had magic, but magic was illegal then and deadly, so it was a big secret they could share with no one. Again the poisoning made them spill their most precious secret to whoever would hear. Even to the Muggles that would kill them for it.

Severus didn't know about the children or the other cases mentioned as there were little details on them scattered throughout the history books, but he wondered if the children had any similarities to Harry. To the boy who had never had a bedroom, stole scraps of food from the rubbish bin, and would do anything to himself if he thought it would keep him out of trouble, including inflicting damage on his hands and arms.

Days and weeks ago Severus had supposed that perhaps Harry was allergic to various ingredients in the potion interacting together. What if it was more that the potion was interacting with Potter's circumstances? So far Potter had been fighting the potion... fighting the magic instead of going with it, and Severus was beginning to wonder if the interaction might burn itself out eventually and come to resolution if Potter worked with the magic instead.

This presented another problem however. He couldn't simply ask Harry questions and have him answer. They'd done a lot of that already. He and other Professors, Harry's friends and peers at school had asked him questions for weeks and he'd answered truthfully, and the magic didn't seem to be lessening at all. Perhaps being compelled by others to tell the truth would be unfair and make Potter feel like he would have to fight the potion's effects. No, Harry would have to tell the truth on his own. How would Severus convince him to do that though? The boy seemed to latch onto rules, possibly because his relatives had so many for him. Rules made things cut and dry. Rules made things safe, didn't they?

* * *

"Harry, would you please come downstairs?"

"Yes sir." Harry set down his book and got out from under the covers on his bed. He wondered if Snape had concocted some other disgusting potion to make him try and said it out loud, but Snape was already downstairs and didn't seem to hear him. Whatever potion it was, Harry hoped it was a good one and would work. This was Christmas Eve and he'd like to be cured so he could go spend the rest of the holiday with the Weasleys. Snape had left him alone for almost a week, so it must be a good potion right?

"Is it a good potion this time?" Harry asked at the bottom of the stairs. "Will it work?"

"There is no potion currently."

Severus noted the boy was squeezing his hands shut tightly, perhaps digging his fingernails into the palms of his hands to keep from speaking the truth.

"Sit down. Yes, on the sofa."

Harry sat and waited patiently to hear what the Potions Professor had to say.

"There's a new rule for you to follow."

Harry's shoulder's slumped. "What is it sir? Am I doing chores? Am I still allowed to eat?"

"The new rule is that telling the truth is allowed if you want to tell it. You will not be in trouble for anything you say."

Harry frowned. "Even if I say your potions taste like socks?"

"Even then."

"And it's allowed if I say you're mean to me in class?"

"Yes."

"And-" he hesitated and Severus wondered if he was biting his tongue, literally, to keep from speaking.

"Yes?"

"If I tell you the truth about kids in Slytherin?"

"I will not be angry with whatever you say."

"Goyle pushes me down between classes. I don't think Draco and Crabbe like it, but they go along with it. I don't know why. Draco always acts like he's in a hurry to get away after though and Crabbe always frowns at Goyle's back after he pushes me down or shoves me into walls. I thought Draco was putting him up to it at first, because once or twice after Goyle hit me in the face or something Draco told him he had candy to give him back in the dorms, but now I think he was just trying to keep him from hitting me more. Even Ron said he didn't think Draco was like that... would rough people up like that, but we were never sure because the three of them are always together."

"I was unaware, thank you for telling me." Severus was surprised by what he'd heard, but was trying to reinforce what he'd just told the boy, that no matter what he told him he would accept it and the boy would not get into trouble.

"I'm- not in trouble?" Harry asked.

"Why would you be?"

"A couple times when you found Goyle pushing me down in the hall you got mad at me for being clumsy and said I was in everybody's way. Once you took points."

Severus paused, unsure of what to say to that. He reached back through his memories trying to pull up the incidents in question, but came up blank. He'd given Harry detention and taken points so many times, he'd lost track of them all. "I was mistaken in those instances. I did not realize the circumstances surrounding the events. I apologize."

Harry frowned and sighed, clearly thinking about something, and Severus was interested in what the boy was thinking.

"Are you thinking about something right now?"

"I wish you'd seen him push me down and taken the points from him."

"I see. And did you feel compelled to tell me that?"

Harry looked up. "Not right away. Not until you asked I guess."

"Progress then. Earlier you were still saying whatever came to mind right away."

"I guess."

"May I ask you a question about Mr. Malfoy?"

"Sure."

"What did you tell people that made Professor McGonagall send you back to the Hospital Wing after you had first returned to classes after the poisoning? It is my understanding someone asked you what you had thought about Mr. Malfoy."

"Draco and Crabbe were right there and Susan Bones asked me why I wasn't friends with Draco since his family and mine are both prominent pure blood lines. I said I thought he was ok except he was friends with Goyle and I couldn't stand getting beat up by Goyle every day if we were friends, and that I couldn't be friends with someone who was gonna call my friends blood traitor and mudblood."

"I can see why Professor McGonagall might decide to sequester you after such a proclamation."

"It was only the truth."

"For which you are not in trouble. Mudblood and bloodtraitor are not words to be spoken in polite company however, even when re-telling a story. I had wondered why Mr. Malfoy ended up in detention the same day you were sent back to the Hospital Wing, but I was otherwise occupied and unable to ask."

"It was in first and second year. I didn't realize he got detention for that."

"Professor McGonagall would probably track down students that had graduated to give them detention if she found out they had said those words."

"I won't say them again then," Harry promised.

"See that you don't."

"Is there anything else you wish to tell me?" Severus asked.

"Not right now," Harry said. Then he paused and very quickly words came tumbling out of his mouth, though Harry looked horrified. "Are you going to have a tree this year for Christmas sir? Is there going to be something special to eat for dinner on Christmas? I've never had Christmasm before except at Hogwarts. Ron was gonna stay this year so I didn't have to be alone and then this happened." Harry clamped his hand over his mouth but Severus held up a hand.

"Remember: it is now a rule that you are allowed to tell the truth when you want to. You are not in trouble for anything you just said."

"I, I'm sorry sir, I know this isn't a hotel or school. You don't have to entertain me. My thoughts just slip out."

"From now on, let them slip out. This may be the thing that cures your condition."

"Do you think so?"

"I do." Harry relaxed marginally, but still seemed anxious. "While I am not here to cater to you, I do not see an issue with preparing something good to eat for Christmas, or putting up a few decorations. I generally do not because I spend the holidays at Hogwarts."

"You don't have to if you don't want to sir, but I-" He clenched his mouth shut again.

"Yes? Speak whatever you have to say."

But Harry only repeated, "I never got to have Christmas away from Hogwarts. I usually spend the holidays in my cupboard."

"And your family?" He wondered how much it would affect the outcome if he gave small prompts to keep the boy talking. The child didn't seem like he was fighting the magic at the moment however and didn't look anxious.

"They have a big meal and have Aunt Marge over. They put up a big tree and aunt Petunia decorates. She makes lots of cookies and sweet things I'm not allowed to have and Dudley and Uncle Vernon eat them all. The whole house smells good from baking, even in my cupboard, and I pretend I get to eat with them. First year was the first time I got to actually eat real food for Christmas. I love Hogwarts."

"Thank you for telling me."

"Sir? What do you mean?"

"I appreciate the truth Potter. Just remember the rule."

"I won't forget, I promise."

Severus dismissed the boy and wondered what he would do for decorations since he didn't have any. After Potter had gone upstairs and back to his reading, Severus threw a handful of floo powder into the fireplace and called the Hogwart's kitchens. He needed to talk to a house elf.

* * *

Harry was surprised when he heard several large thumps downstairs, followed by Professor Snape calling for him again. It had only been forty minutes since he'd last been down there talking to him, and Harry had spent the time sitting on his bed mulling over the conversation, saying all of his thoughts out loud to himself.

"What's he want this time?" Harry asked.

He felt a little ashamed of telling the man about his cupboard and not being able to eat, but he felt good at the same time that someone else knew. He wasn't certain he felt good about it being Snape knowing however.

"Am I in trouble after all?" Harry asked himself as he started down the stairs. "He said I wouldn't be. It's not fair to make me think one thing and do another."

Harry didn't find Snape angry at the bottom of the stairs however. Instead he found four houselves sitting a small tree upright in the corner of Snape's small living room, and two more coming out of the fireplace with boxes of baubles and garlands.

"Sir? You wanted me?" Harry asked. Snape turned and motioned towards the tree.

"You may decorate the tree if you wish. The elves have also brought Christmas Eve dinner."

Harry's eyes roved towards the dining room and his mouth began to water. He couldn't smell anything but the fir tree at the moment, but he was excited at the possibility of a meal from Hogwarts. "Your cooking is fine sir, I mean, I don't mind it," Harry said out loud, hoping he hadn't offended the man, but Snape waved him off.

"Baubles," said one house elf to Harry, pointing at a box. "Garlands and ribbons," he told Harry pointing in the second.

Three of the four house elves disappeared back through the fireplace, but the fourth stayed and was more than happy to help Harry decorate.

"I wonder if I can take a garland and some ornaments to my room," Harry said out loud, and Snape startled him then as he passed behind him and said, "You may."

The last elf left after they were done with the tree, and Snape beckoned Harry to the dining room to collect a plate. There were no decorations in here, but Harry was too focused on the plate of hot food and mug of hot chocolate to notice or say anything about it.

"This looks so good," Harry said, sitting down to eat, and for the first time since he'd been there, Snape sat at the table to eat with him. "You're eating with me sir?"

"It would appear so."

"It's nice not to be so alone," Harry said as he began eating candied carrots. "After you said I couldn't write to Ron or Madam Pince anymore I felt very lonely. It's not fair."

"I did not say you could not write to them. I said not to write to anybody else."

"Oh. Writing's not usually allowed anyway. Hedwig gets locked in a cage when I go home for the summer, or I send her home with Ron. Uncle Vernon likes it when I'm alone. Every summer he says my friends forgot about me and that I'll go back to Hogwarts and have no one."

"He sounds like a-" Severus paused... son of a bitch. Abusive arse. "-disagreeable man," Severus finished instead.

"He's mean," Harry supplemented. "I hate him. I hate Dudley and Aunt Petunia because they're mean too. They don't like me. I think they're glad I'm gone all year and wish I wouldn't come back in the summer. Uncle Vernon says every year for me to stay at school for all the holidays and says for me to try to stay for summer too. I tried, but the Headmaster wouldn't let me, and he wouldn't let me go to Ron's house either. I'd even go home with Draco Malfoy if he'd let me, but I'm not allowed."

"It is so bad you prefer Draco Malfoy to your family?"

"Yeah," Harry said, and continued eating.

After a few more bites of tender turkey, Harry said, "I would run away but Ron's brothers told me about tracking spells. I wouldn't get that far. I'm stuck there."

"I see."

Harry seemed upset for a moment and lowered his fork. Then he looked up at Severus and said quietly, "I'm not trying to be ungrateful. I just am. I can't help it."

"Perhaps at your relatives there is nothing to be grateful for."

"Maybe. My first year Uncle Vernon sent me a Christmas present at Hogwarts. I think Hedwig must have gone home and pestered him until he did."

"What did he send?"

"A pair of smelly dirty socks."

"That is unpleasant."

Harry shrugged. He'd been so excited to open it, thinking that perhaps his absence had reminded the Dursleys that first year how much they actually liked him. The socks had told him otherwise though. Instead it had reminded Harry that all he was to them was someone to do chores... to wash their dirty clothes, mow the lawn, and cook and clean.

"You are supposed to be telling the truth," Severus said when he noted Harry stuff his fist into his mouth. Harry made several muffled noises and then pulled the fist out and said, "The rule is only if I want to."

"That is the rule," Severus agreed.

Harry didn't want to let go of that secret though. He didn't want anyone to know just how much that Christmas gift had hurt him, or how much the Dursleys affected him. He stuffed his fist back into his mouth and left it there for several minutes. Finally he asked if he could be excused, and seeing that his meal was finished anyway, Severus told him he could go back to his room or the living room if he wanted.

Harry raced up the stairs and to his bed where he buried his head under the pillow. "I hate them," Harry said, "and I hate the smelly socks, and I hate that no one wants me."

"The house elves returned with breakfast."

"Can we eat now?" Harry asked.

"Before presents?" Snape asked, surprised.

Harry nodded. "It smells so good. Food's the best thing."

Severus noted that Potter didn't say ‘the best thing about Christmas', just ‘the best thing.' Given his earlier comments about the Muggles not feeding him and having to eat from the rubbish bin, Severus could see why.

"We may," he said, and Harry led the way into the dining room.

After Harry sat and put several spoonfuls of egg into his mouth, and then had a bite of the sweet orange cinamon roll dripping with melted frosting, he said, "Happy Christmas sir!"

"And to you," Severus said. With the child's every thought on display, Severus found himself frequently surprised at how chipper he seemed, even when speaking to the Potions Master that frequently put him down and gave him detention at school. Had the child always been like this and he'd just not known about it? Or perhaps it was because he was now in unfamiliar territory and was on his best behavior.

Harry helped himself to a second roll and sipped on his hot chocolate before he was ready to go and open the few packages left under the tree for him. Owls had come in the night with them. Severus would have thought Harry's entire fan club would be sending him expensive gifts, but there were only three. One from Granger, one from the Weasleys, and one from Hagrid.

Severus followed Harry into the living room and sat in his comfortable chair. The boy looked at him as if asking for permission, and before the words could slip from his mouth Severus motioned to the presents.

"I can't wait for the sweater," Harry said, and opened the Weasley's package first. The first thing he pulled out of that large box was a dark green knit sweater with the letter H on it. Harry wasted no time in putting it on and said with contentment, "warm at last." Harry also pulled out several letters out of the box and read them, and then pulled several more magazines, a pack of bubble gum, a pack of Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans and a pair of gloves that matched his sweater. He put the gloves on too, then took them off and went to the box from Hagrid, which had a tin of cookies and a photo of Harry and Hagrid together in a pumpkin patch.

Finally the boy opened Granger's gift, which had a book on charms that were useful in defensive situations, and a book on advanced Seeker tactics. All the while Harry was muttering things to himself like, "I remember that photo," and, "Fred and George got me a subscription to Inventor's Monthly," and, "Hermione always knows the books I'll want to read."

"These are the normal gifts you get from your friends?" Snape asked, sipping his coffee. "You are not expecting more later today?"

"Sir? This is it. Hermione always gets me a book, Ron's mum always knits a sweater, and Hagrid sends something to eat."

"And the rest of Gryffindor?"

"I don't have other friends in Gryffindor. I mean, I like the other boys in the dorm well enough, but they all have their own friends."

"And in other houses?"

Harry shrugged. "I just have Ron and his family and Hermione and Hagrid."

"Do other people who are not from Hogwarts send you letters and gifts?"

Harry frowned in thought and then said, "A man in a bowler hat stopped me in the market and shook my hand once when I was seven or eight."

Severus stopped asking questions as Harry began flipping through the Quidditch book Granger had sent, but after a moment he said, "The elves will be bringing lunch and dinner by, however I do not know if they will bring any baked goods. Would you like to bake cookies?"

"I can bake all kinds of things," Harry said brightly. "Do I get to eat any of them?"

"Yes," Severus said. "Come into the kitchen."

Harry followed Severus into the kitchen and Severus began pulling out ingredients and the other things they would need. He didn't have a recipe card, but like many potions he had brewed, he had the recipe for a batch of chocolate chip cookies memorized. So did Harry apparently, because without being told what to do he began measuring ingredients and putting them together in a large bowl.

"You know the correct amounts?" Severus asked.

"I had to make them a lot at home. Dudley and Uncle Vernon are fat and like to eat things like this. I can make cakes and cinnamon rolls and other things from memory too."

"I see." Severus didn't ask if Harry had been allowed to eat any of those things he baked because he knew the truth was the boy hadn't.

When they had put the cookies in the oven, Harry said, "I know I can't write to anyone but Ron's family and Madam Pince, but I'd really like to write to Hagrid and Hermione to thank them for their gifts and ask if they liked what I got them too."

"You may. You gave your friends gifts?"

"Yeah."

"With the clothes you wear I was under the impression you did not have funds to buy anything extra."

"I don't get a chance to buy clothes," Harry said. "My family doesn't let me go to Diagonalley or out of the neighborhood at all when I'm there."

"I see. So you do have funds to buy clothes?"

"Yeah. I was looking forward to Hogsmeade weekends so I could, but then my aunt didn't sign my permission slip and Professor McGonagall said I had to stay at the castle because my Godfather is coming to kill me."

"You know he is your Godfather?"

"I heard the Minister of Magic talking about it to Madam Rosmerta in Hogs- umpf um um foo."

Harry turned to look at Snape with a horrified look on his face, hand over his mouth.

"And what, pray tell, were you doing in Hogsmeade when your permission slip was not signed and you were supposed to be in the castle?"

"You said I wasn't in trouble for anything I said," Harry pointed out, backing into the counter as far as he could go.

"You are not in trouble for what you said. You are however in trouble for your misdeeds."

"But after a bunch of questions at Hogwarts you found out that you gave me a bunch of detentions for stuff I didn't even deserve. Doesn't that make it all even?"

The boy had a panicked look on his face that made Severus uncomfortable. The child shouldn't be so scared of being in trouble. At least he wasn't begging not to be hit this time.

Severus pursed his lips and said, "By my count I made you serve three unwarranted detentions. This will strike one of those off. Are there any other misdeeds you wish to confess to now to avoid this same conversation from repeating in the future?"

"Asking me isn't fair because you know I have to tell you," Harry said. "Sometimes I sneak to the kitchens in the middle of the night for food in the first few weeks after school starts, because I can't handle a lot of food right away when I first get back. The elves give me an apple or something to keep in my backpack for when I do get hungry."

"That will strike another detention off of the list. That leaves one," Severus said.

"Then I guess I get one to use later because I'm not actually the trouble maker you think I am and I try to follow the rules," Harry said.

"I will be very displeased if you use the last detention as a free pass to disobey the rules," Severus said sternly.

"I won't," Harry promised.

"It is time to check the cookies." Severus pointed at the oven and the Muggle timer on the counter that was about to run out.

Harry opened the oven to peek at the cookies and then carefully pulled the pan out with an oven mitt. "Your oven mitts are nicer than aunt Petunnia's," Harry commented, still rattling off his thoughts as they came to mind. Severus wondered if his plan to work with the magic was really working at all. Perhaps it would take more time to tell.

* * *

For the first time since Harry had come to stay, he sat in the living room with Severus and read his new books and magazines. He occasionally muttered thoughts on what he was reading out loud, but it wasn't loud enough or frequent enough to bother Severus as he read another book that had come by owl that afternoon. The elves brought lunch and dinner as promised, and a handful of Christmas crackers. Severus allowed Harry to open them all, knowing the boy had precious little to call his own. Harry was pleased when a thick pair of black socks came out of one, and put them on immediately. A toy dragon came out of a shiny red cracker, and finally a warm maroon beanie came out of the third. Harry put that on too. He cherished new items he received, especially clothing. He was anything but ungrateful, Severus decided.

That night as Harry climbed into his bed, still wearing the maroon beanie, he said to himself, "Not such a bad Christmas," and fell asleep, glad that his hands were fully healed and not still bruised and painful, and that he'd gotten to eat good food and wear warm clothes.

* * *

"Potter, get dressed and eat breakfast. It's on the table. We leave in thirty minutes."

"Where are we going? Are we going to the Weasleys? Are we going to school? You're not taking me back to the Dursleys are you?"

Severus gave him an irritated look at the rapid chatter, but only for a moment. "We are going to Hogsmeade to get clothing, now hurry or I will leave without you."

Harry raced up to his room to change into clean clothes for the day, and minutes later raced back down the stairs and into the dining room where Christmas dinner leftovers were sitting on a plate waiting for him for breakfast. He practically inhaled the food and was waiting by the floo when Severus came back downstairs.

"Do you have your money pouch? We will be stopping at the Gringotts branch first."

"Yes sir," Harry said brightly. "It's in my back pocket. It's empty now because I bought gifts for my friends."

"Fine. We won't be taking the floo. Hold my arm and we will apparate."

"I hope I don't barf," Harry said.

"See that you do not." Harry grabbed his arm and they spun away, appearing in the snowy alley behind Rosmerta's.

"The Headmaster's personal friend runs the clothing shop. He has been apprised of the situation and will not mind you speaking what is on your mind."

"Ok," Harry said.

"And the goblins at Gringotts, as a matter of course, prefer the truth and are adept at discerning lies."

"Yes sir," Harry said.

They stopped and got money transferred from Harry's Gringotts vault, and then went straight to the clothing shop, though Harry chattered now and again about wanting to visit Zonko's or Honeydukes.

In the clothing shop the owner greeted them and then locked the front door and put the closed sign up.

"We're here when it's closed?" Harry asked.

"Just closing shop til you finish lad," the man said. "Boys items are on that side of the shop."

Severus told Harry the number of shirts, pants, etc he should probably get, but told Harry the final decision was up to him as it was his money, and then went to talk to the shop owner while Harry browsed. As was normal now Harry talked to himself about what he liked or didn't like about each shirt color, and pair of pants, collecting articles of clothing as he went. Both men laughed when they heard him exclaim from the corner of the shop over a maroon zip up hoodie with a snitch zipper pull. "Wow! It's got a Snitch zipper pull!" Harry shouted. Harry brought a big armful of clothing to the shop counter, and then went back to the corner with outerwear again, and after several more excited shouts, he came back with another hoodie without a zipper that had the Gryffindor lion on the front, and a third hoodie that was a deep heathered green with dark gray draw strings and metallic gold ends on the strings.

"Is this everything?" Severus asked.

"Yes sir!"

"Did you find shoes?"

Harry dug under the pile of clothes and pulled out shoes and a package of socks. All in all it was several Galleons of clothes: an entire wardrobe, including slacks for school and casual attire like t-shirts and sweatpants, some plain and others with words like ‘Gryffindor', ‘Seeker', or ‘Hogwarts ESTD 990 AD'.

Harry paid for the purchase and the shop owner bagged up the items. It was five bags and Severus had to help Harry carry them. The man let them apparate away from inside the shop, and Harry forgot all about wanting to visit the other stores in Hogsmeade, chattering happily instead about all of his new clothes.

He was still talking about the purchase when they reappeared in Snape's living room.

"It's not even gonna fit in my trunk!" he said happily. "I'll have to look up a charm or something to make the trunk bigger."

"I will put a charm on it when we return to Hogwarts."

"Really? Thanks. I'll have to send it all home with Ron in the summer because Uncle Vernon will burn it all."

"Are you being dramatic?" Severus asked, because while Harry said his thoughts allowed Severus knew not all thoughts were truth.

"No sir, he doesn't like me to have new things. I always get Dudley's old things. Dudley's always got to have better than me."

"That is interesting considering they are paid a yearly stipend for your clothing."

"I never get new things. Not ever. The first time was when Hagrid took me to Diagonalley before first year, but I haven't been back since then."

"As far as I am aware, you are not returning to your relatives again, so you should be able to go to Diagonalley again once your condition has been taken care of."

"You think so? I always have to go back. The Headmaster always makes me."

"I overheard him telling Professor McGonagall that you will not be returning."

"Wow," said Harry. "Maybe this isn't such a curse after all."

Severus wondered if the boy would continue to think that for long. Never being able to keep one's thoughts to oneself could turn out to be deadly, or isolating and lonely.

Harry went up to put his clothes away, and when he didn't come back down after a few hours, Severus went up to check on him. He was napping across the foot of his bed, wearing one of the new hoodies and a pair of dark gray sweatpants and his Christmas cracker socks.

"Potter, dinner is ready."

Harry sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Sorry sir, I was tired and didn't mean to fall asleep. But napping is allowed right? You said I could?"

"Napping is allowed so long as it is not an all day thing."

"Yes sir."

"Uncle Vernon doesn't let me nap ever. Not even when I'm locked in my cupboard. Once he caught me sleeping in the day and dragged me out of the cupboard and into the yard. It was raining and he said I had to stay out there."

"Your uncle manhandles you?" Severus asked as they began down the stairs.

"What's that? Does that mean hitting? I get hit."

"It means handles you roughly... drags or pushes you around."

"Yeah, not all the time, but sometimes."

"But you get hit often?"

Harry covered his mouth and looked like he wasn't pleased with the question, despite that he'd already admitted to being hit.

Frustrated with Harry's refusal to speak Severus said, "I believe the Veritaserum has had such a severe effect on you, as it has on others like you, because you have truths that need to be told, but have not been able to tell."

"I always get in trouble when I tell the truth!" Harry shouted, pulling his hand away from his mouth. "I told at school once in primary and they called the police, and then the police came and didn't believe me. They believed Uncle Vernon, then when the police left I got locked in my cupboard for weeks over the holidays! Then at school the teacher thought I was just a liar and never believed anything I said again, about anything!"

"You will not be in trouble for telling the truth here. It is a rule."

"What truth do you think is so big and important? You know practically everything I think because I don't have any control over what comes out of my mouth!" Harry was worked up and breathing heavily.

"I do not know," Severus said. "That is for you to tell, if you so choose."

"Then what?" Harry asked. "Then if it doesn't work you just know all my secrets? You'll have lots to use against me in class."

"I will not use anything against you."

"I don't believe you."

"Must I take Veritaserum to prove it to you?"

"Forget it!" Harry shouted, turning his back on him. Then he turned around again. "What do you want me to say? I have literally told you everything I know. I've told you every wrong thing me and Ron have ever done. I told you I don't get to eat, and that I live in a cupboard under the stairs! And you heard me say I get hit at home, so why did you ask about it a second time?"

"Because I care to hear the answer."

"No you don't. You just want to get me out of your hair and get back to Hogwarts," Harry accused.

"That is not the only reason."

"Well here it is," said Harry bitterly, face red from yelling. His face grew serious as he looked at his Potions Professor. "I get hit a lot. For every little thing. Uncle Vernon hits the hardest, Dudley hits the meanest, and Aunt Petunia hits the nastiest. And it hurts every single time."

Harry's face flickered for a moment, but the effect was gone so fast Severus wasn't even certain he'd seen it. He narrowed his eyes.

"What?!" Harry shouted. "What's that look for?"

"I thought I saw something. An effect of the poisoning perhaps."

Harry didn't seem to hear him though because he was still worked up. He turned around and said to himself, "Everything they do hurts. Every time they yell at me, or send me dirty socks, or ignore me all day on my birthday-" there was that flicker again, despite that Harry wasn't facing him. He could see something on the back of Harry's neck that wasn't there before, a scar perhaps, but then it was gone once again. Harry turned around, looking at an empty spot on the floor and continued, "-when I'm lying in my cot hungry at night, or cold becuase the blanket is too thin, or they say lies about my parents, or aunt Marge comes and visits just to taunt me, or-" the flickering was more prominent now, and Severus realized that what he was seeing wasn't a flicker as much as it was a difference between Harry's features... the Harry that he always saw, and the boy that was standing in front of him, ranting, and unaware that anything was different at all. Harry looked up at him then and said, "It hurts. All of it. They know it, and that's why they do it." The flickering of features stopped, and suddenly there was a different boy standing in front of him. It was Harry Potter, but there was a scar under his ear, and another on his chin, and another down the front of his neck. There was one on his right arm and three on his left. Severus was willing to bet there were more under his shirt.

"You were wearing a glamour." Severus said quietly, not sure if he was believing what he was seeing.

"I don't know what that is."

"A charm to change your appearance."

"I didn't do any magic like that," Harry said. "If I did I'd make my hair look nicer than this." He pointed up to his mop of black hair.

"Perhaps your magic put it up for you, to hide the truth."

"What are you even talking about?" Harry half shouted, arms up in the air. He'd just spilled his guts to him and all he could talk about was how he looked?

Severus conjured a mirror and handed it to Harry, who took it uncertainly and looked down into it.

"That's where Aunt Petunia slapped me and accidentally caught my face with her nails," Harry said quietly, reaching up to touch the scar on his cheek. "But it didn't scar. It barely even made a mark."

"It scarred," said Severus. "But you had already walled yourself off to what was happening. The glamour was already up and hid it from you." The child had probably done it to survive.

"Professor," said Harry quietly, still looking into the mirror. "Ask me something about things I did wrong at Hogwarts."

"Potter?" When Harry didn't answer, Severus asked, "The night you were poisoned, what did you get in trouble for?"

Harry looked away from the mirror and up at him. "I didn't get in trouble. I was in bed all night sleeping," he lied.

They stared at each other for a moment, and then Harry set the mirror down on an end table, turned and went to the stiars. "I guess I don't have to tell the truth anymore," he said, and disappeared up to his room.

Severus sat heavily in the armchair he was nearest to and stared at the mirror the boy had just abandoned. The truth wasn't something the child was keeping from everyone else, but from himself. The poisoning had held up a mirror, and the boy had finally seen his own reflection.

* * *

Severus didn't check on the boy when he didn't come down for dinner, but he did the next morning. The child was still sleeping, or perhaps pretending to do so. He'd had enough of being forced to tell the truth, so Severus didn't call him on it and let him lie in bed.

At lunch he went back up to the room with a shimmering blue creme in a small jar. It was translucent and slimy, and it jiggled when the jar moved. Harry was sitting on the bed pretending to read one of his new books, but he looked like he was just staring at the page.

"This is a scar remover. It won't work on the scar on your forehead, but it will work on the others. You may apply it yourself, or I can apply it to places you can't reach."

Harry's eyes came sluggishly up to meet his Professor's. "Thanks," he said unenthusiastically.

Snape set it down on the nightstand, but he didn't turn to leave. Instead he pulled out the desk chair and sat down.

"What do you want?" Harry asked. "I told you everything. The curse or whatever broke."

"I don't want anything Potter. What do you want?"

"Does it matter?" Harry asked. "No one cares what I want."

"Not your friends?"

"That's not what I mean." When Severus didn't say anything right away however, Harry began filling the uncomfortable silence himself. "I just want to be treated nicely, like I'm not an inconvenience someone has to put up with. I want to be believed when I say something, even when I'm not being poisoned by my Potions Professor. And I want to live someplace where people aren't constantly mean and rude to me for no reason. I'm a person."

"Yes you are," Severus agreed. He was still reeling from their discovery the previous day and was certain Harry must be feeling strong emotions about it as well. It was a lot for a thirteen year old to handle.

"Why are you still here? I'll use the scar balm."

"Do you want company?"

Harry looked up at him, incredulous. "I'm just reading," he said quickly, picking his book back up.

"Then I shall read too."

"I'm not reading," Harry snapped out, angry suddenly. "I'm just sitting here thinking."

"Then I shall think too."

"You're just going to sit here and do nothing?"

"I am not doing nothing," Severus said. After a moment of deliberation he said, "I am sitting with a friend who needs time to think on things. That is time well spent."

Harry opened his mouth to shout something, anything, but he didn't know what, and without the poisoning his mouth wasn't apt to just spew things without him, so he closed it. Snape would never claim he was his friend, yet he had, and here he was, willing to just sit there with him.

They sat in silence for almost ten minutes when Snape said, "You are a person. It's a rule. It is something I will not forget."

Tears pooled in Harry's eyes and his lips moved but nothing came out. Snape knew he was repeating the rule to himself. Then quietly Harry said to himself, "Crying's allowed. It's a rule now too."

Harry did cry, but Snape didn't watch. He sat silently in the desk chair at the foot of the bed. He sat in solidarity with a boy who had only ever needed someone who would do such a thing, and to listen.