Harry collapsed onto the cot in Ron’s room, his small frame shaking with the sobs that he was desperately trying to repress. He pulled the bedding up over his head and bit down on his fist in an effort to keep himself quiet. It didn’t do him much good in the end.

“Harry?” came the groggy voice of Ron. Harry held his breath and tried to be silent, hoping that Ron would just go back to sleep, but he still heard the bed frame creak as Ron slid off his mattress.

“Harry,” he repeated, murmuring this time. “Are you okay?” When he again received no response, he slowly pulled the covers down to see his best friend.

Harry averted his eyes, staring down at the printed golden snitches scattered across the sheets as he shivered, even though he was hardly cold.

Ron was quiet for a moment before taking Harry’s wrist and gently dragging him over and into his own larger bed, pulling the covers up and over their heads as they would sometimes do at Hogwarts in the middle of the night when Harry woke with bad dreams. Those were really the only other times Ron had witnessed Harry being so upset and vulnerable.

Harry curled up into his defensive little ball but managed to hold Ron’s gaze this time. “What happened?” Ron asked him quietly.

Harry bit his lip and shook his head. Ron sighed. “Harry, you’re obviously really upset… just talk to me, please?”

Closing his eyes tightly, Harry tried to come up with what to say. He wanted to tell him the truth, but Harry didn’t want to accept it as truth himself. But he lied to Ron about this kind of stuff more often than he’d like to admit, and it wasn’t a good feeling.

“I-I found out that my dad wasn’t really my dad. He adopted me.”

“Oh,” Ron said, astonished. He had known of Harry Potter before he’d known just Harry, and it was a bit of a shocker to think that Potter might not actually be his last name after all. “What about your mum?”

“No, she… she married my dad before I was born to p-protect me from my real dad.”

Ron’s eyes went wide. “Was he dangerous?” he whispered.

“Yeah,” Harry whispered back.

“Is he still alive?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you know who he is? Is he still dangerous?”

Harry shrugged best he could under the sheets. “I dunno. I don’t really think so… he… it’s um, Professor Snape, actually.” He nearly gasped at his own admission. He couldn’t believe he let that slip past his lips so easily.

Ron’s jaw dropped. “No way!”

Harry tried to laugh a little but it came out as a sob. “Yes, way.”

“Wow,” Ron murmured. “But… you don’t look like him. You both have black hair, but that’s it. You look like the pictures I’ve seen of your d- your other dad.”

Harry nodded. “I know, it’s weird… Snape said that my mum put a, uh... birth glamour on me. So that I wouldn’t look like Snape. I didn’t really believe him at first, but… I don’t know why he would claim to be my dad if he wasn’t, I mean, he can’t stand me…”

“Yeah… he’s not really nice to anyone, though, is he? But… he’s seemed kind of better with you lately.”

“I guess... But I think that’s just because he feels sorry for me, after healing me and all…”

“What do you mean? You were just sick, weren’t you?”

Harry shifted uncomfortably. “Um, yeah, sorta.”

They were silent for a bit before Ron spoke again.

“They really hurt you this time, didn’t they? The Dursleys? That’s why you came here, isn’t it? Those potions you’ve been taking are because of something they did to you.”

“No, they haven’t done anything wrong to me! T-they just…”

Ron scoffed. “Are you being for real, Harry? These are the same Dursleys that made you sleep in a cupboard for ten years and locked you up in your bedroom for days?”

Harry hugged his knees closer to his chest and didn’t respond.

Ron frowned but didn’t press that particular issue any further.

“I know that Snape can be a right foul git, especially to you,” he started quietly. “But you should have seen him yesterday when you got hurt. He was really worried about you. I think you were pretty out of it, but… he actually was kind of cradling you for a while there.”

Now Harry’s eyes went wide and his cheeks tinged pink. “Really?”

Ron nodded. “Yeah. I think… well, I think he cares about you.”

Harry huffed. “He’s never cared about me before, why should he now? Just because we share blood? I don’t care. Blood means nothing, look how Aunt Petunia…” he sucked in a deep breath. “Well, it doesn’t matter. It’s not as though I need a parent at this point, I’ve done without for as long as I can remember and I’m fine.”

Ron wrinkled his nose. “I know, you can take care of yourself. But don’t you think it would be nice just to have a dad?”

“Maybe,” Harry quietly conceded.

“It’ll turn out okay, either way,” Ron murmured.

Harry nibbled on his lower lip. Maybe Ron was right, and it would be okay. But Snape didn’t care about him, not really. Biologically being his father didn’t make him Harry’s dad. Not in any way that mattered.

He closed his burning eyes tightly. Ron and his breaths were blending together underneath the covers and it was making it a bit difficult to breathe, but Harry never wanted to leave this safe cocoon of their friendship.

Here he could allow himself to forget about Snape, the Dursleys, and every other problem that was determined to drag him down.

***

Dinner that evening was somewhat of a subdued affair, even the twins seemed to have cooled down a bit. Arthur thought it might have something to do with Harry’s red-rimmed eyes and the look that Ron seemed to shoot anyone who tried to engage the near-silent boy in conversation.

Arthur sent Molly a questioning look when Ron glared daggers at George for asking who died, but she just pursed her lips.

Once the table was cleared and the children had gone upstairs, he pulled her aside and asked what was going on.

“Severus left before I could ask what had happened, but I overheard,” she quickly made to defend herself even though Arthur had made no objections to her apparent eavesdropping, “well, it was difficult not to, as Harry was yelling at some points and I was just in the other room!” she sighed. “It sounded like he told him about you-know-what.”

Arthur’s eyebrows shot up. Molly and he had been trying to convince Severus that telling Harry the truth would be the best course of action, but Severus had been adamant that it would be a mistake. Arthur was surprised to hear that he changed his mind so abruptly, as just last night he had made it clear that he still felt that way.

“It didn’t go well, I take it?” Arthur questioned lightly.

“Well, obviously! Molly scoffed. “The poor dear looked so upset. I was hoping…” she sighed. “I didn’t expect everything to be all sunshine and roses, but I really didn’t expect there to be such a row about it.”

“I know,” said Arthur, pulling her into an embrace. “We were wrong. But I still think that Harry has a right to know. Hopefully, it will all work out in the end.”

He felt Molly nod against his chest. “Hopefully.”

***

Harry did not see Snape at The Burrow again that summer. His nutritional potions were still supplied as usual, but Snape wasn’t handing them to him any longer. He seemed to take Harry seriously about staying away.

Or maybe he realized Harry was right and that he really didn’t care about him at all past the fact they just happened to be related.

He didn’t know whether to be upset or relieved in that.

Harry could tell from the sympathetic looks that they would send him that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley knew what had happened, but they never said anything to him about it, and for that, he knew he was grateful.

The final days of summer had quickly faded away from existence. Harry and the Weasleys had all made the trip to Diagon Alley together just as they had the year previous, and before anyone knew it, September 1st had arrived and it was time to board the Hogwarts Express for the journey back to school.

It was usually Harry’s favorite day of the year, but this particular year he almost wished that he could just stay hidden away in Ron’s room. He had been doing quite a bit of sulking lately, he could admit, and he wasn’t exactly looking forward to resuming his responsibilities as a student of Hogwarts.

He especially wasn’t looking forward to potions class. But that wasn’t any different from usual, now was it?

Mrs. Weasley hugged and kissed all of her children (which apparently now included Harry, and while he appreciated the sentiment, he could really do without the slobbery kiss, he thought as he discreetly wiped it off his cheek) on the platform before they boarded the train.

Ron and Harry stumbled across Hermione during their search for an empty compartment, who flushed as she admitted to being a bit late when asked why they hadn’t seen her on the platform before.

They were unable to find an empty compartment, so they settled for one at the very end of the train. It had only one occupant, a man sitting fast asleep next to the window. He looked ill and exhausted. Though quite young, he was obviously not a student.

“Who d’you reckon he is?” Ron hissed as they sat down and slid the door shut, taking seats farthest away from the windows.

“Professor R.J. Lupin,” Hermione whispered at once.

“How d’you know that?”

“It’s on his case,” she replied, pointing at the luggage rack over the man’s head, where there was a small, battered case held together with a large quantity of neatly knotted string. The name Professor R.J. Lupin was stamped across one corner in peeling letters.

“Wonder what he teaches?” said Ron, frowning at Professor Lupin’s pallid profile.

“That’s obvious,” whispered Hermione. “There’s only one vacancy, isn’t there? Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

“Well, I hope he’s up to it,” said Ron doubtfully. “He looks like one good hex would finish him off, doesn’t he?”

“Ronald!” Hermione huffed, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. “So, did you two have a good summer? Harry, you seemed to leave the Dursleys really early this year!”

Harry had not exactly shared many details of his summer in his letters to Hermione, and he couldn’t really answer her question without revealing more than he wanted to at the moment. Ron must have sensed his hesitation and covered for him.

“I was bored out of my mind, couldn’t wait to see him and just wouldn’t shut up about it, so mum and dad went to get him themselves!”

If Hermione found this suspicious, she didn’t say so. “Oh, well, I wish that I had been able to visit the Burrow myself, but I did have a lovely time with my parents in France,” she smiled. “I’m glad to be going back to Hogwarts, though.”

She went on about how amazing France was before broaching the topic of Hogsmeade. Harry frowned as she and Ron talked about all of the amazing things to see and do in the village. When Hermione asked him what store he was most excited to visit, he sighed. “I can’t go. The Dursleys wouldn’t sign my permission slip.” Actually, he hadn’t dared to ask.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Harry! And here we’ve been going on and on about it and you can’t even go,” Hermione said, truly seeming sad about it. Harry hadn’t wanted to make her upset.

He shrugged. “It’s fine, really.”

“Maybe you can ask Professor McGonagall?” Ron wondered.

“Yeah, maybe,” said Harry, although there really wasn’t much of a chance that their strict head of house would sign it, he wanted to drop the subject.

Hermione had opened her mouth to respond to that when the train started to slow down. “We can’t be there yet, why are we stopping?” she said instead.

“I dunno,” Harry muttered just before the train came to an abrupt stop. Then, without any warning, all the lights went out and they were plunged into total darkness. He started to get up but a hoarse voice stopped him from doing so. Professor Lupin seemed to have woken up.

“Stay where you are,” he said as he slowly got to his feet, holding a handful of flames. But the door slid slowly open before Lupin could reach it.

Standing in the doorway, illuminated by the shivering flames in Lupin's hand, was a cloaked figure that towered to the ceiling. Its face was completely hidden beneath its hood. Harry's eyes darted downward, and what he saw made his stomach contract. There was a hand protruding from the cloak and it was glistening, grayish, slimy-looking, and scabbed, like something dead that had decayed in water...

But it was visible only for a split second. As though the creature beneath the cloak sensed Harry's gaze, the hand was suddenly withdrawn into the folds of its black cloak.

And then the thing beneath the hood, whatever it was, drew a long, slow, rattling breath, as though it were trying to suck something more than air from its surroundings.

An intense cold swept over them all. Harry felt his own breath catch in his chest. The cold went deeper than his skin. It was inside his chest, it was inside his very heart...

Harry's eyes rolled up into his head. He couldn't see. He was drowning in cold. There was a rushing in his ears as though of water. He was being dragged downward, the roaring growing louder...

And then, from far away, he heard screaming, terrible, terrified, pleading screams. He wanted to help whoever it was, he tried to move his arms, but couldn't...a thick white fog was swirling around him, inside him… there was a blinding green light...

“Potter,” someone was saying. The voice was familiar, but the tone was not. It wasn’t exactly kind but somehow it felt soothing, like it was trying to rescue him and bring him back up from underwater. Harry slowly opened his eyes and then started at the sight that greeted him.

“P-professor Snape?” he muttered weakly. His eyes darted around the train compartment. The lights were back on and he seemed to have slid out of his seat onto the floor. Harry felt very sick; when he put up his hand to push his glasses back on, he felt cold sweat on his face.

“W-what happened?” he directed his question and Ron and Hermione, who were kneeling on the floor beside him. He looked quickly toward the door. The hooded creature had vanished. “Where’s that-that thing? Who screamed?”

"No one screamed," said Ron nervously.

Harry looked around the bright compartment. "But I heard screaming-"

A loud snap made them all jump. Professor Lupin was breaking an enormous slab of chocolate into pieces. "Here," he said to Harry, handing him a particularly large piece. "It'll help."

Snape seemed to be annoyed about this as he sent Lupin a fierce scowl, but he motioned towards the chocolate when Harry didn’t immediately eat it. “Eat. It will help you regain your strength.”

“I- okay,” Harry mumbled, nibbling on the chocolate. To his great surprise, he felt warmth spread suddenly to the tips of his fingers and toes. “Woah.”

“Mmm,” Snape hummed while waving his wand over Harry. He was still waving it around when he told Ron and Hermione that they’d best head to the feast. They looked uncertain about leaving but Professor Lupin waved them away with a smile. “I’m sure he’ll be fine,” he said softly.

“We’ve made it to Hogwarts?” Harry questioned dumbly once they had gone. Once he said it he felt that Snape would probably say ‘No, Potter, I just appeared on the train out of thin air,’ although it would be a valid question as Apparition did in fact exist.

But Snape said no such thing. “Yes. You were out for a couple of hours.”

Harry gaped. “Hours?”

Snape nodded while looking over a scroll that had appeared. He seemed to be making a conscious effort to avoid meeting Harry’s gaze. Somehow it only hit Harry just then that this was the first time they’d seen each other since… the incident… and he suddenly felt very awkward.

“Lupin was correct, you will be fine,” Snape muttered after a moment. “I suggest you skip the feast and rest, a house-elf can bring dinner to your dormitory.”

Harry felt he should argue but even after the boost he received from the chocolate, he still felt exhausted. “Kay,” he said, mumbling. If Snape was bothered by his easy submission, he didn’t say anything about it.

Professor Lupin offered Harry a hand and pulled him up from where he had been seated on the floor. “Come along, there is a carriage waiting to take us up to the castle.”

They exited the train and Harry stumbled a bit when he saw the skeletal winged horse attached to the carriage. “W-what is that?” he asked, slightly panicked.

“What are you referring to?” Lupin asked quickly.

Harry pointed at the horse.

“You can see it?” Snape questioned sharply.

Harry nodded. He saw Snape and Lupin exchange a look out of the corner of his eye.

“It is called a Thestral, there is no need to be frightened by its less than stellar appearance. Thestrals have always pulled the carriages, just not all of the students can see them,” said Snape in his quiet tone.

“But why can I see it, why can’t everyone?” Harry asked, not at all comforted by Snape’s words. The horse looked downright terrifying.

“It’s nothing to worry about,” Lupin said with a tight smile.

Oh, right, Harry had nearly forgotten that he was thirteen and stupid and no one wanted to tell him the truth about anything. Perhaps he would ask Hermione later if she knew anything about Thestrals.

They boarded the carriage and Awkwardness journeyed with them all the way up to the castle. Harry avoided looking at Snape while Snape glowered at Lupin if he did so much as sneeze.

Thankfully, it wasn’t too awful long before they had reached Hogwarts and were standing in the Entrance Hall.

“Erm, well. Thanks, Professors,” Harry said quietly as he started to turn towards Gryffindor tower. A gentle hand grabbed his arm to stop him and he looked up to meet the black eyes of Snape for the first time since… well, that.

“Take this,” Snape murmured, pressing a purple potion into Harry’s hand. “Dreamless Sleep. In case you should have need of it.”

Harry furrowed his brow but wrapped his fingers around the potion in acceptance. He and Snape just looked at one another for a moment longer before Professor Lupin offered to walk Harry to his dormitory.

Snape left the hallway without another word, black robes billowing beneath him.