Severus couldn't sleep.

That wasn't an unusual occurrence in and of itself.

It was the reason why he couldn't sleep that was unusual.

As much as he wanted to pretend that the current situation was simple and straightforward, he couldn't.

Because it wasn't.

It was multifaceted and convoluted.

Fraught with complexities of the moral, ethical, and... emotional sort. Petunia and Vernon had treated Harry like nothing more than a house elf. That could not be denied. And was undoubtedly wrong. It was wrong because no child should be treated like that for any reason.

Petunia, however, lost a sister to a world she could never be a part of. Petunia felt as though Lily got special treatment because Lily was a witch. Petunia had a son and wanted to make sure that son never felt like he was less because he wasn't a wizard. Petunia - to protect herself from loss - did what she could to not become attached to Harry.

Hadn't Severus done something similar? Told himself lies about the boy? Created a fictitious and privileged life for the child, and held that life against him? Refused to see Harry for who he was because if he got attached to the child and lost him then not only would he have failed Lily, but he would lose her again, in a way.

Then, of course, there was the boy's observation that his revenge plan ‘wasn't very nice.'

Damn it all to hell.

A tapping at the window had him out of bed and allowing an elderly owl into the room. He took the letter the owl offered him, gave the owl a treat, and sent it out again.

He read the letter quickly. It was from Arthur Weasley. Like Harry's letter earlier it offered to take the boy during the summer. It also suggested they meet in Diagon Alley - along with the Grangers - to pick up the children's school supplies.

Severus shuddered at the thought.

The part that surprised Severus, however, was the inquiry as to how he was holding up. There was an offer for a ‘good home-cooked meal' sent by owl post if he and Harry wanted one. And a thank you for the Fire Whiskey, as well as, an invitation to share a drink together sometime.

A drink didn't sound like a bad idea.

He set the letter aside, for now, and quietly left his and Harry's rooms to make his way to the kitchen. He decided against the Fire Whiskey Dumbledore had sent. He wasn't in the mood for anything that strong. A beer sounded nice.

He knew he wouldn't find any beer in the Dursley's now working fridge - no doubt they considered beer far too low-brow to have in the house. There was probably a bottle of wine somewhere. Wine sounded like Tuney.

He opened several cabinets before he found a bottle of wine on a top shelf. He'd already found a glass (well, a coffee mug), and took his time opening the bottle before pouring a generous serving into the mug. He placed the bottle into the fridge and took a seat at the kitchen table staring at the red liquid in the white coffee cup.

He took a sip of the sweet red wine and focused on clearing his mind. With every drop that stuck to the sides of the cup, he imagined a thought slipping away. With practiced ease, he pushed his thoughts and emotions behind his mental barriers.

The sound of the kitchen door opening drew his attention away from his task.

"Why am I not surprised to find you down here nursing a drink?" Petunia's question was rhetorical, but she noticed his curious look. "I can smell the alcohol from here, Sev." She rolled her eyes, "Tell me, is this your first bottle tonight?"

"My first glass tonight. Not that it's any of your business, Tuney."

"You're in my house. Everything you do here is my business."

He couldn't think of a good argument for that.

She sat down at the table with him.

"Would you care for a glass?" He offered but made no move to retrieve the wine or something to pour it into.

She sneered at the offer, "I'd hardly consider a mug of whatever booze you brought into my home a ‘glass.' And unlike some..." She paused for a dramatic effect, "...I don't need alcohol to cope with daily life."

"You always know just the right buttons to push, Tuney. It's a talent. Pity, it's the only talent you have." He didn't bother to correct her about bringing his own alcohol. Dumbledore did send him a bottle of Fire Whiskey, after all. He began to stand, "good night."

"Why are you here?"

"As Headmaster Dumbledore explained-"

"Harry is required to stay here for the...Blood Wards... or whatever... not you."

Snape nodded, still standing he looked down at her. "The wards protect him from all sorts of horrible things outside of this house." He sneered, allowing all his rage and hatred to come through in his eyes and voice as he hissed his next sentence. "But someone has to protect him from the horrible things that happen to him inside this house."

"First glass indeed. Did you finish off a six-pack before coming downstairs?"

"You locked him in a cupboard, Tuney."

Silence fell in the kitchen. Petunia's mouth opened and closed as though she were constantly changing her mind about what words to use in her defense. As though there was a defense.

"And I hate," he made sure to emphasize the word, "that some part of me understands why you would do that." Because I wasn't much better than you, was left unsaid. He paused for a moment with his hand on the door, but he turned his head away from her. "You could at least try some remorse."  

Snape went back upstairs wondering if the cause of his own rampant thoughts and emotions wasn't fostered by his own remorse.

He was woken up by a loud banging followed shortly by Harry's nervous voice.

"Professor?" His bedroom door was pushed open enough for the child's head to peek through. "Aunt Petunia is at the door." The banging got louder with the door open. "She sounds mad."

"Good for her," he mumbled but got out of bed. Harry waited nervously at the door. Severus's hand (of its own accord) found the top of Harry's head, and he gave the boy a nudge towards his bedroom. "Go to your room."

Snape was across the room in three steps and only just remembered not to open the door too wide before pulling the door open and glaring at Tuney. "Is there a reason you're trying to break down the door?"

"After your overindulgence last night, Severus, I thought it would take more than a tap to get your attention."

Snape rolled his eyes; it was too early to argue with her. "What do you want?"

"Taking after your father, now? Spend the night getting drunk then sleeping all through the next day? Never mind that your son needs feeding, and - "

"Do. Not." Severus ground out between clenched teeth, stepping into the hall and causing Tuney to step back. He didn't care in the least when fear contorted her features. "Do not, finish that sentence Tuney. We've had this argument a hundred times before. Let's just skip to the part where I remind you that my father wasn't sitting alone at the bar."

Petunia wasn't looking at him. Her gaze was directed down the hall though Severus thought her mind was probably back in a past they both tried not to remember. Her arms were crossed, her lips pressed so tightly they were in danger of vanishing altogether.

Normally, Severus would have left the argument with the reminder that his father wasn't the only one who handled the closing of the mill and the stress of unemployment by drowning his sorrows with a few too many beers. He'd leave the argument there. Petunia wouldn't push for a while after the reminder. And at least for a time, things would go back to whatever weird version of normal they had.

Normally.

But fuck Petunia.

"At least, my father has been sober for over fifteen years now. Remind me what killed yours again? Liver disease, wasn't it? Alcohol-related cirrhosis?" Severus regretted the words the moment they left his mouth.

But not because of what they did to Petunia.

He didn't dare hope that any of the Evans watching the scene would forgive him for saying those words.

Petunia looked back at him with even more hatred than usual, "Go to hell."

Petunia all but ran across the hall and down the stairs.

Once she was out of sight, Snape leaned back against the doorframe. The words he'd said left a nauseating taste in his mouth that seemed to be traveling to his stomach. He wanted those words back. Wanted the thought to have never entered his head. What had possessed him to say those things? Just because something was true didn't mean it needed to be said.

He shook his head as though the action could shake the memory from his mind. Only then did he realize that he never found out why Tuney was beating on his door to begin with. He took a deep breath, went back into the bedroom, and called Harry.

The boy came out of his room and looked around their makeshift sitting room with concern. As though he expected his aunt to be hiding in a corner somewhere.

Severus glanced at a clock on the wall noting that it was nearly time for lunch. "I take it, you didn't have breakfast?"

Harry shook his head, "I slept in late."

"As did I," Severus stated, leaving out the part that he'd been up half the night contemplating how fucked up his life had become. (He made sure NOT to think about being the boy's father as that topic was still off limits). He honestly had no idea it could be more screwed up than he'd already made it by taking the damn mark burned into his left arm. But that's what he got for testing fate he supposed.

"I doubt we'll be very welcome in this house today. I may have upset your Aunt a great deal."

"Did she figure out that you've been making things break?"

"No." Shit. How had his plans gone this sideways? "Nevertheless, is there something you would like to do outside of the house today?"

"Go back to Hogwarts?" The child asked hopefully.

Snape snorted, "Something feasible, boy, and close by."

Harry shrugged, "There's not a lot to do around here."

"Surely, there is a museum of some kind? A zoo perhaps? Maybe a movie theater?"

"There's a zoo. We went last year for Dudley's birthday. But we didn't stay long."

Severus stared at the boy. How had this happened? Why was he about to take a child (that few would deny he hated) to the zoo for a day?

A voice - one that sounded just a little too greedy and that was becoming harder to bury beneath Occlumency shields - whispered in his head: because he's yours.

Maybe he should take the child to Hogwarts for a few hours. Severus considered the possibility that he needed a sandwich.

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose, "Get dressed. We'll grab something to eat on the way."

The boy was a damn parselmouth.

Fuck.

The child had no idea what that was or what it meant. Idiot boy had no idea he was doing it. The child didn't even realize that it wasn't a common thing to understand snake language.

He'd explained it to the child after they left the zoo, and made a note to ask Albus if the scar on the boy's head was related to this unexpected ability. It probably was.

Shit.

While at the zoo the boy definitely found his voice. The questions were incessant and in no logical order. He wasn't even sure if the child noticed when his questions went unanswered. There had been a lull only when they'd had lunch and dinner. But as they returned to the Dursley residence - they had to take a bus and walk the remaining two miles back - the boy's questions became less and less frequent. By the time they were at the end of the street, the talking had almost ceased altogether.

Severus found his own stomach sinking at the idea of returning to the cookie-cutter house on Privet Drive.

Strangely Severus realized he had a certain... fondness... for Cokeworth. At least that town had character. It was a wretched miserable old character: not unlike the grumpy old man who shakes a cane and yells at children who stray into his yard. But it had character nonetheless. One with history and stories. It was scarred and unpleasant, but it was real. Not like Little Whinging: bleached and lifeless.

There were proper horror movies about places like Little Whinging: where all the neighbors conspired to kill newcomers or those that didn't uphold the neighborhood's unwritten rules of propriety. Movies whose entire point was that the more perfect something looks the more it has to hide. Documentaries about untold horrors that happened hidden behind perfectly painted window panes and neatly trimmed hedges.

Cokeworth had only seen countless horrors played out in reality on its streets, homes, and businesses. It didn't try to hide them. 

"We won't have to stay much longer." He wasn't sure if he was saying this to the boy or himself.

"Will we spend the rest of the summer at Hogwarts?"

Severus sighed. According to school rules, the... families of faculty members are not permitted to live on the ground for extended periods. A couple of weeks before the start of term and after the end of term were acceptable. Severus was sure the Headmaster could and would make an exception for this summer, but it wasn't something they'd discussed. He couldn't take the Boy Who Lived to Spinner's End (despite his sudden fondness for the horrid little place) because more than one Death Eater had frequented his residence over the years. He couldn't risk one of them showing up unexpectedly and seeing the boy playing happily in the street.

Snape had never considered buying a house or renting a flat somewhere since he spent most of his time at Hogwarts. More often than not he didn't even return to Spinner's End during the summer. Technically, the house was still in his parents' name though he did pay the taxes and insurance on it.

The thought of buying a home now... was panic-inducing. Thinking about buying a home meant thinking about why he was buying it. He glanced down at the boy quickly but didn't dwell on those thoughts.

"We'll return there once we leave Tuney's, yes."

"Do I have any other family?"

The child had asked this question - with minor variations - at least four times today. Severus had yet to answer it. And wasn't going to answer now. Every time the boy had brought up the subject Severus's thoughts would go directly to Mr. and Mrs. Evans. He could never manage to push those thoughts aside before the guilt and shame from earlier would wash over him.

They would have been so disappointed in him for what he'd said to Tuney.

Neither he nor the boy said anything else as they drew nearer the house. He had no idea what the boy was thinking which caused him silence. But with each step Severus's shame over his words that morning managed to intensify. They were about to open the door when it flew open and a furious Petunia Dursley stood in the entrance.

Severus looked away from the furious woman for a moment. He couldn't bring himself to look her in the eyes. He grabbed the collar of Harry's shirt and pulled the child backward and slightly behind him before he met Petunia's gaze once again.

Then he did something he'd never done before.

"I'm sorry Petunia," unlike every apology he'd ever given Tuney this one was sincere, and he wanted her to know it. "I never should have said... those horrible things this morning. I was angry, and you'd---" He was not accustomed to this activity. How did people do this so easily? "I was angry, and I lashed out intentionally saying something I knew would... hurt you." He paused for a moment and was surprised Tuney hadn't interrupted him, yet. "You know how I felt about your parents. I'm... ashamed that I could even have let those words leave my mouth."

There was silence for a moment before Petunia snapped back at him with pure venom and sardonicism, "Well, that's alright, then, isn't it? Say sorry. Placate the person whose help you need. The person who for over a decade has been forced into a situation she never wanted to be in..."

She trailed off, and Severus figured her fury over the situation as a whole was stronger than the hurt he had inflicted. Either that or the situation was easier to talk about than what he'd actually - regretfully - said.

"Then be horrible and insulting again the next day because she never had a choice and still doesn't. So what does it even matter?" Petunia finished.

Severus remained silent. He wanted to be angry.

He wanted to snap at her.

But he found he was more tired than anything. He just wanted this month to be over.

"I didn't have a choice either!" Harry's young and angry voice spoke up from his side. "I didn't want my parents to be killed! I didn't ask to be left here!"

Petunia must have been just as drained as he was. Neither of them acknowledged the boy or his outburst. They didn't even spare a glance for him. The silence simply lingered between the three of them for a moment: heavy and oppressive.

"Where's Uncle Vernon?" Harry's voice sounded... unsure? Scared? Broken? Tired? "His car's not here."

Tuney wiped at the tears on her cheeks before clearing her throat. She looked at him as though he'd asked the question instead of the boy. "He took Dudley on holiday. A trip I'm going to miss. Time away from my son who is growing up, and-" Her voice broke for a moment, "time I won't get back. Because I have to stay here with the two of you. Because if I don't, I'll lose everything and everyone I love." She snorted, "at least according to Albus Dumbledore."

They were a fucking miserable group, indeed.

Considering what he said that morning he wondered if offering to share his bottle of Fire Whiskey with Tuney would be poor form.

Hell, they could give the boy a shot, too. Just enough to put him to sleep, of course.

Then he and Tuney could finish off the bottle in their combined misery and anger and misfortune.

They stood there in silence for a moment longer before Tuney wordlessly stepped back into the house.

Severus followed with Harry not far behind. He watched as Petunia went up the stairs.

"I've had dinner already, and don't think I'm cooking anything for you," Petunia didn't turn around or pause as she spoke, "If you're hungry you know where the kitchen is."

Snape - for unfathomable reasons - spoke on impulse, "I truly am sorry for earlier, Tuney." When did his voice start sounding so... desperate? "I can't even begin... I'm sorry."

If Tuney even heard him she didn't acknowledge his words.

Didn't he just hate her this morning? How could he feel so horrible about what he said now? How after everything she'd done could he feel sorry for her?