Ron, Hermione, and Harry stared at Severus in shock. It was late afternoon, and Severus had just Flooed back from the headmaster's office. Dumbledore had returned to Hogwarts that morning, and the Potions Professor had gone to meet with him.

"What?!" Hermione gasped, her eyes huge in her pale face.

"It appears that your parents escaped to safety just in time," Severus said quietly. "Albus told me that Death Eaters attacked your former residence last night, and virtually destroyed it." He sighed. "Your neighbors were not as fortunate as your own parents, I'm afraid."

"Not old Mrs. Winslow." Hermione shook her head. "She used to watch me in the afternoons when I was little. She was the sweetest little old lady. She was always telling me stories and baking biscuits. And the Kemps had just had a baby last summer, a little boy. They named him Ryan."

She gave Severus a pleading look, as if he could tell her that it was some kind of mistake, but the professor shook his head.

"They're all gone. I'm sorry, Miss Granger."

His face was expressionless, but Harry could see pain in Severus' black eyes. He stepped closer to Severus even as Ron reached for Hermione's hand. She started to turn to him, her eyes filling with tears, when suddenly she spun back to look at Harry and Severus.

"It's my fault, isn't it? They were after my parents, and when Mum and Dad weren't there, they attacked our neighbors."

Harry shook his head. "It's not your fault, Hermione."

Ron spoke at the same time, "Don't think like that, Hermione. You had to do whatever you could to save your mum and dad. You can't help it that the Death Eaters are monsters." He pulled her close in comfort.

"Listen to your friends, Miss Granger," Severus told her. "You are in no way responsible for what Voldemort and his followers chose to do."

Hermione drew in a long, shaky breath. "I'll try," she whispered. "I know you're right, but I still can't help feeling guilty. But if it had been Mum and Dad..." she stopped and pressed her hand to her mouth.

Ron hugged her, and this time Harry went over and put his arms around her, too.

After a while they drew apart and Hermione said more firmly, "Thanks, guys. I'll be all right. I do know that it's not really my fault. It's just so horrible. I can't believe anyone could be so cruel, to kill an old woman and a young couple with a baby. How could they do it?"

The three of them looked at Severus, but he only shook his head and turned away.

Hermione went over to him and tentatively placed her hand on his arm. "Professor Snape? Thank you again, for helping me. I'll never forget it."

She looked back at Harry and Ron. "I'm going back to my dorm now." Seeing their expressions, she tried to smile. "Don't worry. I'll be fine. I just think I'd like a few minutes alone before dinner. I'll see you tomorrow, Harry."

After she'd left, Ron turned to Harry and said, "I think I'll go, too, mate. Hermione may want to be alone right now, but I want to be there to walk her down to dinner."

Harry nodded. "All right. See you later, Ron."

When they were alone, Harry looked over at Severus. "Are you all right, Severus?"

"Yes, of course," Severus sat down on the sofa and picked up a catalogue from the shops of Hogsmeade. "Albus wants to meet with us tomorrow night, Harry. I think he's planning to let us know more about his secret activities of late, because he said the memories we're going to see are crucial to Voldemort's defeat."

"Good." Harry flopped down on the other end of the sofa. "I want this war to be over, Severus. I want it really bad."

"As do we all." Severus gave him a stern look. "But we need to have all the information we can get and then develop as secure a plan as possible. There'll be no rushing off with some foolhardy idea that hasn't been thoroughly worked through."

Harry gave him a look of mock hurt in return. "When have I ever done that?"

Severus rolled his eyes. "We're not even going to go there, Harry." He handed over another catalogue to Harry. "Here. The holidays are approaching and since we can't go shopping for gifts, you might want to owl-order some things for your friends."

"Oh," Harry realised he hadn't even thought about how he would buy Christmas presents to give to his friends. "Thanks."

He took the catalogue and began thumbing through it, but instead of concentrating on what he'd like to order, his thoughts kept straying. He wished he could have gone with Ron and Hermione. He usually didn't mind staying in his and Severus' rooms, at least not too much. But Hermione needed her friends now. She was being brave, but he knew she was upset about the deaths of her neighbors, and in spite of their reassurances, he knew she felt responsible.

Just like he did about Sirius' death. In his mind, Harry knew now that he wasn't really to blame, but in his heart, he just couldn't completely erase the guilt. Sirius had gone to the Department of Mysteries to save him. If only he hadn't let himself be fooled by false visions and schemes....

Harry saw Voldemort's skull-like face in his mind, with its unnatural pallor, blazing scarlet eyes, and slitted nostrils. He saw Voldemort and his hooded followers, causing pain and death everywhere they went. He imagined their raging frenzy as they lashed out against their innocent victims: Hermione's neighbors; Hannah Abbott's mother, countless others...men, women, even small children and babies, Muggles who had no idea the wizarding world existed, wizards who were brave enough to stand against evil. For some reason, Voldemort had decided he should have the power of life and death over all of them.

He saw Bellatrix's sneering face and heard her voice filled with insane glee as she taunted him after killing Sirius. He remembered her and the other Death Eaters shrieking with delight as they tortured him; casting the Cruciatus curse on him again and again, kicking him in the ribs and stomach, laughing and jeering at his agony. He remembered Voldemort standing back, watching it all with cool pleasure, completely removed from any glimmering of compassion or empathy.

He felt as if there were a terrible pressure in his chest, that kept building and building with each memory until finally it exploded. Without consciously thinking about it, Harry snatched a vase from a small side table and threw it against the wall as hard as he could.

"I hate them!"

The sharp crash of glass against the stone wall, the plinking sound of hundreds of crystal shards falling to the floor, was satisfying, but not nearly satisfying enough. Harry's raging anger wanted more...wanted to loose itself on Voldemort and his followers, on all those who had hurt him and his loved ones so badly. He wanted to hurt them in return; he wanted...

"Harry!"

Dimly, Harry realised that Severus was shouting his name, that they were both on their feet, that the professor had grabbed his arm and that he, Harry, was fighting him like a wild thing.

"I hate them! They kill, and they hurt people! For no reason! They're mean and crazy and I hate them! They kill everyone! They killed my parents, and Cedric, and Hermione's neighbors, and Hannah's mother, and..." Harry's voice broke. "Sirius. They killed Sirius."

Abruptly, he collapsed against Severus, letting the professor's arms twine around him as Severus eased them both down to sit on the floor. Harry clung tightly to him, his face pressed to Severus' chest, and sobbed and sobbed. Severus held him close and silently rocked him back and forth.

"They killed Sirius," Harry choked out between sobs. "I loved him, Severus. I'm sorry. I know he was mean to you. But I loved him, and he loved me. He wanted me to live with him. We were going to be a...a family."

"I know, Harry," Severus said softly, as he cradled Harry in his arms. "He was good to you. He loved you and he was the first adult who was there for you. Of course you loved him. You don't ever have to apologise for that."

"Sirius never...he never had a chance to live. It's not fair. They took everything from him, and from me." Harry began crying again, and buried his face in Severus' robes.

"I know," the professor repeated. He moved one hand slightly so his fingers could caress through Harry's hair.

"They liked hurting me. They laughed when they were torturing me. They put the Cruciatus curse on me over and over again, and they kicked me in my stomach and ribs, and it hurt so bad I wanted to die. And they laughed."

Harry was almost surprised that he hadn't run out of tears yet, but apparently he hadn't because they started rolling down his cheeks again. Severus was quiet, but began rocking him gently again. Harry leaned against him, his cheek against Severus' chest, and cried and cried until finally he couldn't cry anymore. His eyes were sore from all the tears, and his face felt puffy and swollen. But the tight pressure in his chest was gone.

"It's all because of that prophecy," Harry whispered. "That's why he killed my parents. That's why Sirius died, and that's why he's after me. I never wanted it, Severus. Why did it have to be me?"

"Oh, child, I don't know, perhaps because you're the one who's strong enough and brave enough to stop him." Severus' voice was heavy and laden with pain. Harry had to glance up to see if he were all right. The professor's face was drawn and his eyes glimmered, but his arms around Harry were secure. Harry closed his aching eyes and relaxed into Severus' embrace.

They sat on the floor, cuddled close for comfort, for a long time. When they finally roused themselves to order dinner, they ate quickly and then spent a quiet evening sitting side by side on the sofa. Severus picked up a Potions journal, but Harry didn't bother making a pretense of reading. He just curled up beside Severus and leaned against him. Severus promptly laid the journal aside and wrapped his arms around Harry.

Severus cared for him; really, really cared. Maybe, just maybe, it was even a little bit like how a parent would care. Harry couldn't help smiling at that thought. He felt so safe with Severus. Maybe, just maybe, even loved.

They were quiet. Harry was worn out and drained, and Severus seemed content just to hold him, too. Harry's eyes closed and he felt himself drifting off.

Some time later he woke up enough to realise that Severus was lifting him in his arms, but he stayed in a light doze as the professor carried him to his room, laid him on the bed, and transfigured his clothes to pajamas. Only when Severus moved away slightly did Harry wake up enough to clutch at him.

"Shh, child. I'm not going anywhere." Severus slid into bed beside him and tucked the blanket around Harry's shoulders. "Is it all right with you if I lie here for a little while?"

Harry nodded sleepily. "Stay," he whispered. "Please." He rested his head on Severus' shoulder and felt Severus' arm curl around him. Feeling safer than he had in a long time, Harry fell asleep.

Severus watched him for a while, concerned that he would have nightmares after his emotional breakdown that afternoon. But it seemed to have done Harry some good, and he slept peacefully. It was Severus who suffered terrors in the darkness instead.