It was the end of Harry's fourth year at Hogwarts. The Triwizard tournament had finished and Harry had found himself sitting at the top of the astronomy tower. He couldn't keep his mind from drifting to Cedric, and how he wished so much that they had traded places. That Cedric was still here.

Harry looked down at the ground again and slid just a bit closer to the edge. What would happen if he were to accidentally fall? Voldemort was officially back, but was it really his job to take care of the maniac? If he wasn't here then the adults could take care of him. For once they would have to fight for themselves instead of depend on some kid.

Maybe he should just slide off and fall to a peaceful end. Harry slid just a bit further forward and continued to look down at the great drop.

If he fell he wouldn't have to go back to the Dursley's home. Falling was looking more appealing by the moment.

As he slid just a bit further forward to fall off the edge a hand shot out of the darkness and grabbed his arm.

He felt himself being hauled inside, the grip on his arm so tight it was probably bruising. "And what do you think you're doing, Potter?!" It took a few moments for Snape's face to come into view.

Snape's very, very livid face.

Harry felt anger rise within him. 'What did it matter to the greasy dungeon bat that I was trying to kill myself? If anything, he should be happy!' He didn't realise he said it out loud until something in Snape's face snapped, and became blank.

The grip on his arm disappeared. "How did you even find me here?! Were you stalking me, trying to pin something on me again? Yes, of course, I'm the cause of everything, Cedric's death, Voldemort coming back, everyone dying, yes. Why not add some more! Stop him from ending it so he can be tortured some more! Put everything on some kid's shoulders!"

He stopped to take a breath, and only then realised he was sobbing. "What the fuck does it matter to you? Get away from me!" He said, all anger evaporating.

Snape took a breath, feeling very out of his depth, and decided to address the easiest question first. "Potter. It may appear that we do not have adequate safety precautions in place on the Astronomy tower. However, we do have spells in place for this event." None of it seemed to be registering for Harry, who was sitting lightly hugging his knees to his chest, eyes glassy and unfocused.

"Potter. Look at me." It took a few more tries, but the boy finally looked at him, face carefully blank.

Snape looked serious, instead of his usual sneering or smirking. Harry wondered why. He wondered why he was sitting on cool stone, and it took a few blinks to remember. Snape's face shifted to relieved.

"I am sure you would rather hear this from someone else. But listen, Potter. You are not responsible for Diggory's death. You are not responsible for the Dark Lord's return, as much as you were not responsible for his attack on you and your family thirteen years ago. Your life is not dictated by your usefulness. And stop entertaining the foolish notion that you are alone in all of this, you imbecile!"

His voice rose to a crescendo at the end. Harry could only stare. If Snape, greasy dungeon bat who hated his guts, was saying all of this... He didn't know what to believe anymore.

"Now, we will get off this tower, go to my quarters where I will give you a Calming Draught and Dreamless Sleep, and you will discuss every word of this with your friends. As much as you believe that you must be strong, you need not. And I'm sure they will be happy disabusing you of that notion themselves."

Harry nodded, trying to process everything Snape had told him. It was the first time an adult had told him he mattered, in any way. He was vaguely aware of Snape getting up, and an outstretched hand came into his vision, held by a disgruntled Snape.

Harry stared mutely for a few moments before taking the offered hand and hauling himself up on shaky legs. He leaned on the wall for a few moments, before slowly righting himself and walking. Snape, oddly, stared at him with open concern. Harry wondered if this was all just a fever dream.

Snape transfigured a nearby rock into a cloak. It would hold for the time being and was much needed, he thought as he offered it to the Gryffindor. Harry stared at it for a moment, but he was slowly coming back to awareness, and took the cloak faster this time.

They walked down to the dungeons slowly, Snape making sure that Harry didn't stumble or do anything similarly stupid. Snape thought of telling Harry not to disclose the location of his quarters to anyone, but one look at the boy told him to hold his tongue. Stopping at the door, he muttered the password and lightly pushed Harry in.

He took Harry by the shoulders and guided him to the sofa, beside the fireplace. Lighting the fireplace with a quick spell, he went to his potions reserves. He appeared a few minutes later with two vials and set them in front of Harry.

"Wait a moment," he said, and in a few minutes he set down two steaming mugs on the table as well. He pushed one to Harry. "Drink."

Harry stared at him as if he had just grown two heads. "Who are you and what have you done with Snape?" He said, once again the filter between his thoughts and words disappearing. He looked to be back to his usual self, because his eyes immediately widened.

Snape simply smirked. "If anyone hears about me being 'nice', I will use your innards as First Year potions ingredients."

"Um, noted, sir," Harry said, noticing his insults lacked bite. Not wanting to risk it, he took a sip of hot chocolate from his mug. It immediately warmed him from head to toe.

"Potter. You may not want to talk about this. But it is absolutely essential you find someone to confide in." Harry frowned into his mug. "I dunno..." He muttered.

"Why do you not wish for your friends to help you, as you have helped them?"

He set the mug down, fiddling with his sleeves. "Well, Ron would probably just be sympathetic and say "Blimey, mate,' and Hermione would try to fix me somehow. I don't want that. I just want someone to listen."

"What about the Weasley family? I take it you are close with them."

"Uh.. I feel like I'd be imposing on them. They, they're a good family. They don't need to care for me."

"But they do."

"Because they're good. There's a limit for everyone."

"And what about your family? They are Muggles, but they could-" Snape was taken aback as Harry laughed a bitter, humourless laugh.

"I'd be lucky if they even acknowledged me. Other than to do the chores and yell at, of course." A part of Harry was screaming at him for telling someone, but he was tired of everything.

Snape, for once, didn't interject with comments about being a spoiled brat. He sighed. "Your dunderhead family aside, you should not discredit the Weasleys and the Know-it-all. It may seem like a chore, but they will try their best to understand you."

Harry peered at Snape suspiciously. He had never heard something so nice come out of the man's mouth. He finished his hot chocolate and set it down. A part of him thought it was funny that Snape couldn't go one sentence without insulting someone in some way to make up for his niceness.

"Okay. I'll. I'll try telling Ron and Hermione, I guess." He said half-heartedly, hoping to find the strength to actually do so.

Snape shifted uncomfortably. "As much as it pains me to say this, any Professor at Hogwarts, including me, is here for you. I understand what you are going through, and I will do my duty to listen and help, even if I am blunt."

Harry looked up in surprise. He realised that was exactly Snape had been doing the whole time -- listening and helping, in his own brusque way.

"Now, I doubt you need a Calming Draught, but you may keep it in your reserves. This Dreamless Sleep potion contains three doses. But none of this will be effective if you keep everything bottled up."

Snape paused for a moment. "Promise me you will confide in someone."

Harry searched his eyes for a moment. Snape was completely serious. It was weird seeing an adult care so much, especially for him individually, so far as to ensure his well-being after they were gone. "I, I promise," he said, swallowing.

"Good. You may leave. You know where to find me if you require my assistance."

That was Snape's way of saying he was there for him. He felt a small smile rise to his face. "Thanks for everything, Professor."

Nothing could be fixed in one night, but this was great progress. Harry walked slowly to the Gryffindor dorms, and set his potions aside. He knew he wouldn't need them tonight, because the voice telling him everything was his fault was quieter than ever.

Tomorrow, he would ask Ron and Hermione if they could spare a moment, take them someplace quiet and tell them everything on his mind, even the darkest thoughts. And Ron would be sympathetic and say "Blimey, mate", but he would put his arms on his shoulder to ground him, and he would listen. And Hermione would try to fix him, but she would tear up and pull him into a long hug at the end. And she would listen. It wasn't so bad.

And, unbeknownst to Harry, it wouldn't be so bad that summer. The Dursleys would leave him alone, after a small... chat with a certain sour wizard.

He fell asleep, knowing he wasn't alone.