Ben and Harry spent most of the day together in the living room.
Harry was still too weak to get up so Ben opened the window at some point to let the warm summer breeze and the jolly chirping of the birds inside. They both felt better for it.

Ben had found an old dusty board game called ludo jammed under Severus’ sofa and he and Harry played a few rounds in silence.
They both felt reluctant about the rule of kicking the other’s token out of the game and had to remind each other a few times about it.

Snape hadn’t shown his face again besides telling them that he had prepared a few sandwiches he left in the kitchen for the boys and offering them the second bedroom to sleep in.
Surprisingly, it had been Harry who insisted on relocating even if he only made it up the stairs with Ben’s help.
Ben still didn’t know how to feel about this. On the one hand, the churning feeling in his stomach about Mr. Snape hadn’t left him. On the other, he didn’t want to leave Harry any more than he wanted to return to his mother. It was funny how these two things went hand in hand.

When he had pleaded with Mr. Snape to let him stay, Ben had used Harry’s health as an excuse, a fact he felt guilty about. It was just that his neighbour had seemed so hesitant to let him stay that Ben had used the only card he thought would play out in his favour.
After all, it had been Ben who brought Harry back. Mr. Snape had to concede that Ben had a right to know about the other boy’s reconvalescene.

Now, Ben found that in reality it was and always had been Harry who made him stay and not the threat of his mother or her brutish boyfriend. Ben felt ill at ease thinking about leaving Harry with Mr. Snape even if Ben’s suspicions didn’t prove to be true.
There was something going on between these two and he would be dammed if he didn’t investigate his instinct.

For now, he decided to give Mr. Snape- Severus the benefit of the doubt.
Harry hadn’t told the whole truth about thinking his teacher would hit him but Ben believed Harry when he said Severus hadn’t done so. Someone, and Ben would bet his healthy arm that it were Harry’s relatives, was abusing Harry. But it wasn’t Severus.

Ben noticed that the man had made an effort appearing as unobtrusively as possible the last day. He had left them to their own devices as if sensing they both needed time to face him again. Ben had seen the thoughts whirling behind those dark eyes. The man might have rather jumped through hoops before admitting to it, but Ben could see that his little speech had send Severus in a contemplative mood.

Harry hadn’t really said anything more on his relationship with Severus besides admitting that he was his teacher and not the best one at that, yelled at him in class and had given Harry countless detentions.
But Ben could put two and two together.
There seemed to be no love lost between these two and he could literally feel their mutual dislike.

Still, people could change. It was another one of Ben’s quiet convictions about the world.
If Severus could put up with a cheeky cat and an annoying neighbourhood kid then he certainly could make an effort to change his behaviour towards one of his students. Ben was sure of that.

Harry felt exhausted.

After his night-time escape and adventurous trip back to Snape’s with Ben’s help, that shouldn’t come as a surprise to him.

It wasn’t the only reason for his exhaustion however.
His thoughts, previously numbed by the endless hours of work Snape put him through were back full force.
He nearly missed the hard yard work, the pain in his body that would dull the other one. He almost missed the mean comments, the snide remarks.
Harry didn’t understand this Snape. The one who healed his foot, the one bringing him soup and making sandwiches and offering a bed in a real bedroom.

Harry hadn’t hesitated one second to get away from the exposed sofa on which nightmares seemed to haunt him even more than usual. Ben had seemed reluctant but hadn’t said anything as he helped Harry up the stairs. Harry’s foot had improved lots over the course of the afternoon. Apparently, playing board games really helped.
Of course, magical healing was just so much faster than the muggle way. He just hoped Ben wouldn’t notice anything off.
Well, if Snape didn’t see a problem with that Harry wouldn’t burden himself with it. He had enough things running amok in his head already.

As Harry lay in bed that evening, he couldn’t help but wonder where he would go from here.
He didn’t delude himself into thinking that this had been all. This was only the calm before the storm. Snape would wait with the ultimate fallout until the next morning. Until Ben had gone.

Harry didn’t want to fool himself. He hadn’t been able to make sense out of much of the yelling in the next room but one thing he had picked up with clarity.
He had heard Ben when the boy said that he only wanted to stay until Harry recovered. It was an excuse. He didn’t care about Harry, he just didn’t want to go back to his mother.

Come on, you know that’s not true.
The Hermione-voice was back and Harry willed it to shut up. It didn’t.
Why would Ben run away from the shelter if he were afraid of his mum? Why would he come here?
-Shut up!
Why would he bring you here?
-I said shut up.
Harry, you’re just-
-Go away!

Surprisingly the voice died down.
It left the other ones though. The ones that accompanied Harry since his early childhood.
Why would anybody like you for yourself? You’re so selfish. Always feeling sorry for yourself. Get over it Potter. You’re always going to be alone, accept it.
Harry scrunched up his eyes against the darkness in the room.
Worthless freak! You ruin everything. That sounded like Uncle Vernon.
We would have dumped you at an orphanage years ago if it weren’t for that Dumbly-fool, Aunt Petunia piped up.
Idiotic brat! Imbecilic boy! Just like your father, spoilt, pampered, your fame must have really gone to your head!
Harry didn’t have to puzzle over who that was.

Something wet trickled down his cheek and he rubbed at it furiously.
He couldn’t prevent the other ones from pooling on his neck however.

Severus lay in bed unable to find any rest.

The quiet voices of the boys coming from the next room had long since faded away.

Severus had surreptitiously increased the floor space of the second bedroom upstairs with a nifty little spell and transfigured a second bed from an old wooden chair once it had become clear that Ben wouldn’t leave Potter’s side.
Severus told the two boys to relocate from his living room in as little words as possible. He felt- unstable around them.

A tawny owl screeched in the distance and something was rustling down in the garden. Probably a hedgehog.
Inside his mind, all Severus could hear was Ben.

Harry is just a child. I wish you could see him for who he truly is.

Had his hatred for a dead man really blinded Severus to this simple fact?

James Potter had always been what he saw in the man’s son. It had been everything he saw in him from the first time Severus had laid eyes on the unruly mop of Potter junior’s hair, the first time the boy had entered his classroom, the first time the boy had talked back to him in potion class.
So vast had Severus’ anger been, so deep had his hurt run, that he hadn’t considered that Potter had never actually gotten to know his father. Had never gotten to know both of his parents.

Lily had always been the noble one, had always been a good person. Severus had hated her for it at some point. The point their friendship had been shattered by Severus’ own stupidity.
Why did the Potter boy have to have her eyes? It was torture. And just another thing to hate the boy for.

Then there had been James and his little entourage of the so-called marauders.
Pathetic Pettigrew always sucking up to the others to gain a little bit of popularity himself. Lupin, the wolf in sheep’s clothing covering for his friends and abusing his power as a prefect. Black who all too often brought a malicious and brutal streak to the pranks the four friends pulled on Severus.
And Potter. Senior.
James had always been the one to be there when Severus was at his lowest. He had always been the one to remind Severus of his own unworthiness, his freakishness even in the wizarding world, constantly been the one to kick him when Severus was already down, unfailingly been the own to serve the final punch in all of their mutual pranking that had more often than not gotten quickly out of hand.

Through all his years as a student at Hogwarts, Severus had never experienced support in any of this. His own Head of House had been too busy with impressing the children of the right people, the other Slytherins had been too disgusted by Severus’ poverty and half-blood background and the other teachers had always been on Potter’s side never listening to the explanations of a scrawny, greasy, neglected Slytherin.

No, Severus corrected himself mentally; there had been one person to support him.

Lily had stood by him.
They once had had each other’s back. Thick as thieves they had been, secretly brewing potions in the abandoned shed of Severus’ parents during the summer break, talking about the magical world, imagining their future, conspiring against Petunia, thinking up the best ways to escape Lily’s awful sister.
Apparently, Petunia hadn’t changed a bit over the years, Severus thought, as he reflected upon their meeting two weeks ago.

A detail suddenly resurfaced. At the time, Severus hadn’t thought anything of it. So keen had he been on just activating the location spell and finally finding Potter that he hadn’t questioned Vernon Dursley’s behaviour that now seemed more than strange to Severus.
In addition, Petunia had suddenly started to breathe fire down Severus’ neck accusing him of killing her sister by extension.
He had been so taken aback by that furious attack that he completely dismissed his interaction with Potter’s uncle.

Severus didn’t want to go there, didn’t want to go down that route.
Wasn’t it enough already that he realized his own erring with Potter? His own abus- no. He wouldn’t go there. He wasn’t turning into his father. No.

But his mind had always been ruthless.
If there was anything nagging Severus, his mind made sure it chased the thing until it revealed itself, until all curtains were raised.

Now, his mind, his brilliant mind, which Severus had always prided himself on the most, provided him with the crystal clear memory of that day at the Dursley’s.
Severus remembered how Potter’s uncle had grabbed his belt when Severus had brought up the man’s nephew. What if there was more to that gesture? A kind of reflex maybe?
He remembered how Ben told him Potter was afraid Severus would beat him with a belt.
He felt dizzy at the implications.

There was another thing that bothered Severus in retrospect.
It was the manner in which Dursley had spoken of Potter.
What had the man said? Something about being happy, the nuisance was gone. Severus thought “rotten boy” were his exact words.
He scoffed at the wording. No one should call a child that way.
Except… he had done so. Many times, for many years. And not in his head alone.
The lead weight sitting inside his stomach, ever growing since yesterday, gained a few kilos.

Blinking into the dark in his bedroom, Severus thought back to his disastrous Occlumency lessons with Potter. He remembered seeing flashes of a big purple-faced man, spitting insults at Potter in anger.
In the past, Severus had always excused these memories by pretending that these were standalone incidents rather than some regular pattern. Severus had felt satisfaction upon seeing Potter being taken down a peg or two by his muggle relatives.
Now, he only felt reproach for himself. All the times Potter had flinched at being called boy came to mind.
He rubbed his forehead.
It was too much. All the thoughts, all the regrets… he felt overwhelmed.

Had it always been there? In plain sight? Had Severus always just ignored the signs? Always justified them by his hatred for a man that had harassed him a long time ago? A man long dead?
Severus pinched the bridge of his nose harshly.
No, he hadn’t asked for this.

In reality, Severus wasn’t any better than the boy’s uncle or James Potter himself. He could see that now.

He’s a child, Severus.

Actually, he was worse.

Potter was a child. Severus was an adult.
He should have seen it, he should have treated the boy better, he should have – oh please, who was he kidding?
He was no more to the boy than his evil potions teacher. He had brought that one upon himself.

Perhaps it would be a good first step to try to call the boy Harry.
The name Potter was connected to too many bad memories, too many insults. Too many humiliations, too many insecurities that haunted him in the small hours of the night were brought back by it.

Severus would pay the Dursleys a visit, he decided.
Pot- Harry needed his schoolbooks and some fresh clothes to begin with.
And if Severus, by pure accident of course, stumbled upon one or two of the answers to his questions…
It was just a bit of research. Severus had to get more information on what went on in that household.
He had to give Albus a full report on why Harry had run away after all, so that the headmaster could make sure to have words with the boy’s relatives before the boy returned there. And since when did Severus Snape have to explain himself for snooping around- err doing research anyway?

Pleased with his plan, Severus pulled the blanket over his shoulders and finally felt sleep lulling him into its warm embrace.

On his way down the stairs the next morning, Severus encountered Ben who was coming from the bathroom, a towel thrown haphazardly over his shoulder.

“Good, you’re awake,” was everything that came to Severus’ mind.
Ben smiled somewhat, “Do you need help with breakfast?”

Severus didn’t know why he would have deserved the boy’s smile let alone his clemency. The boy was too forgiving, damn it!

“No, I- I’ll manage. Could you- could you wake Pot- Harry?”
Ben’s smile widened.
“Sure,” he said and turned around towards the second bedroom.
“Ben.”
The boy halted in his step and looked at Severus.
Severus took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry Ben.”
Severus forced himself to look the child in the eye. Why had something he found so easy in the past suddenly become so difficult?
“I- I never wanted you- us- to be like this. To be apart,” he said awkwardly.
Ben observed him his head cocked to the side.
“You know, it’s not me you have to apologise to,” he said neutrally.
Severus let out a gust of air.
“I know,” he murmured.
“Good.”
There was a moment of silence. Ben could see the professor was gathering up courage to say something.

“So, is everything fine between us, Ben?”
Severus feared Ben’s answer. He wished the boy would accept his apology while simultaneously he didn’t want Ben to forgive him this easily.
“We’re alright, Severus.”
Severus had to smile. He would have never admitted how much Ben’s words meant to him.
“You know,” the boy added suddenly, “you should do it more often.”
“Do what?” Severus asked him puzzled.
“Smile. Makes you look younger.”

With that, Ben skipped away to wake Harry.
The smile wouldn’t leave Severus the whole way down to the kitchen.