As Severus instinctively took hold of the boy's shoulder, his first thought was, 'Merlin, don't let it be the Weasleys, or Lupin, or anyone whom Harry considers his family!'

His next thought was expressed aloud, and in a much more accusatory tone than he would've liked. "Is this really the time, Albus?"

The headmaster sighed as he took a step forward into the dungeon.  Right away, Harry leapt backward, his wand in his hand in the space of a second, pointed at the old wizard.

"Harry!" Snape growled, surprised by his reaction.  Obviously, the boy's belligerent side once again had the upper hand.

"I warned you not to come back!"  Harry grumbled without dropping his guard.

"There's a good reason why the Headmaster is the only one able to enter without invitation," Snape said dryly.  "I trust him completely, and he's welcome here.  I bit of decorum, Harry, put your wand away immediately!  I will not tolerate my guests being treated in this manner!"

Harry blushed slightly and lowered his wand, although he kept it in his hand.

Snape nodded at him approvingly, then turned to Dumbledore. "I'd appreciate it if you kept your distance," he said curtly.

The Headmaster raised a conciliatory hand.  "Harry, I deeply regret what happened yesterday.  The situation, as well as Professor Snape's condition, spurred me on to handle things in a highly inappropriate fashion, and I'm afraid I reacted in the very worst way. I beg you to accept my apology.  I'm glad to see you're doing better, Severus."

Snape nodded, watching Harry out of the corner of his eye.  "Might I know precisely what went on between the two of you?  I hardly appreciate having to play the arbitrator," the Potions master said coldly, before sudden realization struck; this was probably how the Headmaster had felt all those years, when Snape and Potter were continually at one another's throats.  He suddenly felt a rush of sympathy for the old man.

Perhaps the old wizard's patience and endurance were in keeping with his reputation after all.

"Perhaps we could settle in a bit more comfortably," Dumbledore suggested.  "It appears there are several things that must be discussed."

"In the sitting room," Severus said as he gestured to the stairway.

The three of them headed for the heavy wooden door, the Headmaster leading the way.  Snape wisely insinuated himself between Dumbledore and Harry, giving the latter a warning look in passing as they started up the stairway.  Harry made a face, but followed them.  He was going to be well-mannered, yes, but if Dumbledore dared to try anything…Harry was going to quickly demonstrate his quick reflexes!

Severus had apparently not been mistaken; short of having done serious damage, the storm had broken several window panes, and the debris of glass and broken things littered the sitting room floor.

Harry thoughtfully realized that he'd never before had the occasion to spend time in this room…everything really centered around the dungeon, evidently.  The sitting room was somberly but tastefully furnished in a rather impersonal style, compared to the Dursleys, or most other families.

But clearly Snape didn't have family, did he?  None that Harry knew about anyway.  None worth hanging a photograph on the wall, not a single useless knick-knack given by friends or an elderly aunt. Actually, the furniture almost seemed as if it'd never been used.

Now that he thought about it, that was probably the case.

The master of the dwelling murmured a few incantations, and the sitting room's tidy appearance was restored.  With a gesture, he pointed the Headmaster to a chair, before casting a soothing look at Harry.

After a moment's hesitation, Harry sat nervously in the armchair farthest away from the Headmaster, his wand still in his hand.

"Does the news require that I break out a bottle of firewhisky?" Snape asked when everyone was settled in.

"That would hardly be reasonable," Dumbledore sighed. "We're going to need every bit of our clear-mindedness for this conversation, I’m afraid."

Without a word, Snap went to sit at Harry's side.

"Is it necessary to draw out the suspense any longer, Albus?" Snape asked.

"Actually, a bit of context would be rather helpful.  Perhaps we might review the events of the past three days?"

Snape groaned, but waved a hand for him to continue.

Dumbledore turned and calmly looked at Harry. 

How had these kind blue eyes been able to show so much contempt and cruelty that day in his office? Harry wondered, ill at ease.  It was almost fascinating…

Harry blinked, suddenly aware of having stared at the Headmaster for what had to be a long moment.  The old man hadn't budged, continuing to scrutinize him with those gentle and reassuring eyes that had often calmed Harry.

Not today, though.  Harry turned nervously to Snape, who was watching him as well, motionless.  The nod Snape gave him was almost imperceptible, but Harry caught it, if only for the fact that the man was on his guard, ready to jump up at any moment, whether to protect him or keep him from making a move he'd regret.

The boy relaxed noticeably, and answered him with a slight movement of his chin, before turning to Dumbledore again.  He'd never thought to see the day where he'd count on Snape to protect him from the Headmaster.

The sparkling in the Headmaster's eyes was completely familiar this time, with something like mirth and a certain satisfaction…

And a gleam that annoyed Harry. Did the Headmaster find the situation funny?  Well, he didn't.  Really, he didn't.

Dumbledore must've noticed something, because in his most serious voice, he began to speak again.  "Harry, do you remember your return to Hogwarts?"

Harry hesitated for a moment, stopped in his tracks.  Which one?  The one when Dumbledore and McGonagall had attacked him, or the one when Snape had protected him?  Because that was indeed the question.

But the professor had told him that none of that had really happened. Still, he could remember it perfectly….. Curling up slightly in his chair, Harry let out a noncommittal groan.

"Professor Snape took you back to the castle, and Madam Pomfrey tried to heal you the best she could.  Unfortunately, the situation became more complicated when Voldemort and the Death Eaters surrounded the castle.  The Ministry's emissaries were expected the next day, and it would've been unwise to keep you at Hogwarts, so Professor Snape proposed to bring you here.  Do you remember that visit to Hogwarts, Harry?"

"Not really," the boy replied. "I remember you were there, both of you, and waking up for a moment…hmmm.  I knew it wasn't here, but I didn't recognize Hogwarts."

Dumbledore nodded understandingly.  "It appeared that Voldemort was continuing to steal your powers.  At that time, he was on guard in the Forbidden Forest, and we thought distance would keep him from carrying on.  Was that indeed the case?" the Headmaster asked, turning to Snape this time.

"We had no chance to find that out.  Riddle quickly followed us here," the Potions master answered.

"That's exactly what was reported," Dumbledore murmured.  "What I don't know is how Voldemort was able to locate you so quickly."

"Most likely due to the connection between his and Harry's minds, reinforced by the Theft of Magic potion.  Thanks to that, he sensed that Harry was at Hogwarts, and would've detected his absence in the same way.  I presume he made a quick trip to the Burrow and Privet Drive before coming here."

"Actually," Dumbledore said, "the Death Eaters were spotted near the Burrow.  So, that's how Voldemort was able to sense your magic in spite of the Fidelius charm.  I assume he didn't succeed in getting what he wanted?"

"He tried," Snape said irritably. "But Harry reversed the process and captured the Dark Lord's powers before the potion stopped working.  Voldemort will regroup, but it will take him a while to regain his normal level of magic.  As for Harry, he's increased in strength, quite clearly."

The little note of pride in his voice didn't escape Dumbledore's notice, who stayed silent for a moment, considering this news.  It would appear that this was a turn of events that the Headmaster hadn't foreseen, something else that would also have to be dealt with…

"Severus, when I came to see you last night to bring you the latest news, you were unconscious, although in good keeping, I must admit.  Alastor reported to me that a cadre of Death Eaters had formed in the vicinity of your Manor. Is there a relation between the two?"

"Hardly.  The Dementors were there to support Voldemort's efforts to steal Mister Potter's magic.  They couldn't enter the property, but their magic was strong enough to reach us, given their numbers.  However, my condition was a different matter altogether.  Harry reversed the magic-stealing process and took back both his own and Riddle's, but he needed my strength as well to do that," Snape explained.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Harry startle in his armchair. 

"Your strength?" Harry asked, his voice choked.

Snape sighed.  Best to get it over with right away.  "Harry, the powers you were absorbing were truly those of Voldemort.  But he'd also stolen your strength, and you took it back where you were able to find it.  As I was the person closest to you physically, it was mine you drained."

Harry paled at these words. "That's why you were so tired; I thought it was Voldemort attacking your through the Mark.  I didn't know…you should've have let me…"

"It was important.  And a good thing, in any case," Snape said, looking directly into his eyes.  "I did it completely willingly, Harry, you have nothing to reproach yourself for.  I didn't even give you a choice."

The boy didn't answer, but pressed himself a bit more deeply into the armchair.

"So that most likely explains the phenomenon that occurred when I wanted to disarm Harry," Dumbledore continued.

"Meaning?" Snape asked as he narrowed his eyes.

"I regret to say that I made a very unfortunate move against Harry when I arrived at the Manor last night.  Harry, you were very hostile towards me, and you refused to let me near Severus to examine him.  I thought it necessary to force things by casting an Expelliarmus at you, a mistaken decision in every way.  The spell bounced off you without effect, and the walls responded in a characteristic fashion…for sacrificial magic."

His statement was met with silence.

"You surely shouldn't have attacked Harry," Snape finally replied. "But it's good to know that the spell reacted to the slightest threat."

"Protego," Harry murmured.  "That's what you cast.  But why?  How?  I mean, that isn't supposed to…I don't understand."

Snape let out a resigned groan. "When you found yourself in danger after making the glass in the laboratory explode, I no longer had enough strength to protect you adequately. That's why I cast that incantation, so that it would be useful in a different way, by sacrificing my strength and my magic.  It's an ancient magic, which has already been proven.  It's now tied to the walls that sealed the sacrifice, and to you, whatever attack you find yourself the victim of."

"You could've died," Harry murmured.

"No need to be melodramatic, Potter.  I'm here and fully alive, as you can see.  This spell was but a weak replica of the one that'd already saved your life."

"But it was a possibility, wasn't it?" Harry insisted.

"That's the idea behind a sacrifice, yes.  Everything, to the very end, whatever the price.  But there was little chance of that really happening…"

The boy stared at him, his eyes wide, and Severus noticed that his hands were shaking on the arm of the chair.  He was getting ready to reassure him, when Dumbledore cleared his throat to speak again.

"And it's fortunate thing, Severus.  I'm very grateful to you for your devotion.  I must confess that I didn't in any way expect this possibility.  Unfortunately, this new battle has already brought about some deaths."

Count on Albus to raise the troops' morale! Snape thought.  Before he realized….

"Deaths? Plural?"

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "As I told you earlier, the Death Eaters indeed went to the Burrow.  The Weasley family was there, as well as Tonks and Alastor.  After a brief confrontation, they were withdrawn, without causing any casualties.

"They gathered around Hogwarts as well, Grimmauld Place, Snape Manor and Privet Drive.  The Dursleys had refused Ministry protection, believing themselves protected by their new ally, but Kingsley was tasked with posting a guard in the likely event of a reversal in the situation.  When the group of Death Eaters reformed at the Manor, however, he judged that there was no longer any reason to fear for their safety."

Harry had paled even more, if that were possible, and Snape arose silently to go and stand behind his armchair, his hands on Harry's shoulders.  The boy didn't even seem to notice, his eyes fixed on the Headmaster.

"He was wrong," Dumbledore finished with a sigh. "Voldemort seems to have decided that the Dursleys hadn't fulfill their part of the bargain by handing you over to him. I'm sorry, Harry, all three of them are dead."

Snape's hands tightened on Harry's shoulders, as a long moan escaped from the boy's lips.

Good, at least one thing that I'll not have to do, the Potions master thought at first.  But of course, he was wrong. The Durseleys' deaths would only reinforce Harry's sense of guilt, and that was going to complicate his task considerably.

It was a shame: the one time that Voldemort decided to make himself useful, really.

Wordlessly, Snape sat on the arm of the chair, without letting go of Harry, who was now wracked with nervous trembling.

"How?" the boy finally asked.

"Avada Kedavra," Dumbledore replied. "They didn't suffer…"

"How could you know that?" Harry hissed between his teeth. "Maybe he tortured them beforehand!"

"I doubt it."

"They'd not done a thing to him!  He had no reason to do that…this…this…"

Snape was rather of the opposite opinion, but he kept himself from saying it.  "I deduce from this that the question of my Harry kidnapping has been sorted out?" he asked.

"Indeed," Dumbledore agreed.  "The Ministry concluded, in all urgency, given the situation, that Harry had been taken in by you after he'd run away, and not kidnapped, and that he couldn't be returned to his family for obvious reasons of security."

"So you still have enough influence at the Ministry to carry that out, Albus?" Snape asked skeptically.

"That and then some, my boy.  Because the demise of the Dursleys raises a new problem, that of Harry's guardianship."

Harry let out a small gasp.  "Why?  No, I don't want to go back there."

Dumbledore shot him a compassionate look.  "No, Harry, you will not go back there.  That's finished now. They won't be able to do anything else to you."

"But you want me to go there!  I know it!  Vernon told me you asked him to!"

"I'm not sure I understand…" Dumbledore began, before being interrupted by Snape.

"They're dead, Harry," he said calmly. "Your uncle, your aunt and your cousin.  You'll never see them again. They can't do anything to you.  But you're still not of age, and you must be placed under someone's guardianship.  That's what the Headmaster is trying to tell you."

Harry looked at him, dazed. 

Snape had never claimed to be an expert in psychology, but he would've hoped better of the old man…obviously, he must've been as worn out as Snape by the days they'd just gone through.

"The burial?" Harry suddenly asked.

"It took place yesterday," Dumbledore said gently.

"I should've been there…"

"That was impossible and you know it," Snape said, gently kneading his shoulder.  "You'll go to see their graves as soon as it's safe, if you wish."

Once again, the boy let out a long moan.  "Yes…but before…I have to go see the…"

Snape sighed.  He'd expected it, but he would've preferred to put it off until later. "Albus, how are the Weasleys faring?"

If the Headmaster was surprised by the question, he didn't show a thing.  "Very well, thank you.  Arthur and Molly are at the Burrow with the children, and Miss Granger has joined them there.  They're a bit shaken up by recent events, but anxious to see you again, Harry."

But Harry didn't appear to have heard him, sunken deep in his chair, his eyes vacant.

"They offered to watch over you, Harry…unfortunately, that wouldn't have been wise, for reasons of security."

"And who, then, is Mister Potter's new legal guardian?" Snape asked, annoyed by the suspense.

"It's only a matter of temporary guardianship, while waiting for everything to be sorted out and until the Ministry representatives are able to meet with Harry.  The Ministry wanted the Minister himself to take responsibility for Harry, but I was able to convince them to change their minds, and to confide this charge to me."

Harry sat up in his chair, all his muscles tensed, searching the Headmaster's eyes.

"Until further notice, I'm your guardian, Harry!" he said enthusiastically.

"No!" Harry jumped to his feet this time. "No, no, no!"

"Harry, calm yourself…' Snape began.

"I want to go back downstairs, please!" the boy urged, his eyes flashing.

"Harry…."

"Please, there's too much light…"

Severus motioned with his head, and the boy took off at a run for the hallway.  An instant later, a door slammed, and the two wizards looked at each other.

"I must say I didn't expect that reaction," stated Dumbledore, who'd also risen to his feet. "Must I conclude from this that Harry does indeed hold something against me?"

"It's not as complicated as all that," Snape answered. "Harry is persuaded he experienced, saw and heard certain things, and he is still too weak, too upset to accept that these episodes were all only acts designed to break him."

"Lucius Malfoy, I presume?" Dumbledore sighed.

Snape nodded slowly.  "As far as Harry's concerned, you hate him.  You struck him, you put him under Cruciatus, and sent him back to the Dursleys, if I correctly understood the scenario that Lucius and his acolytes concocted for him.  I only know part of it…but Harry is persuaded that he really lived those scenes."

"And I just told him I've obtained his guardianship…"the Headmaster murmured.

"Actually, I don't think it reasonable to expect the news would make him jump with joy.  Oh, you'd best alert Minerva of having been your accomplice in this little torture scene that Harry suffered at your hands."

Severus thought he saw the Headmaster wince.  What he was certain of, on the other hand, was that the old wizard's face seemed paler and more aged than usual.

"Best to find Harry and explain the situation to him more clearly," the Potions master suggested.  "To set aside one final doubt…were there other victims in the course of these last confrontations?"

"No, everything was concentrated around the Burrow and Privet Drive, and Snape Manor, of course.  There were no wounded, other than the Dursleys."

"Perfect.  Before we go down…  Harry is convinced that the Weasleys were killed, as well as Tonks, Remus, and the whole of the Order.  Because of him, of course," Snape said casually.  "By chance, it would seem that Lucius and Bellatrix's imaginations spared me."

"Harry appeared very possessive and protective of you, Severus.  When I came to visit you last evening," Dumbledore said softly.

Was that a note of regret, or perhaps envy, that the Potions master detected in the Headmaster's voice?

"He thinks I'm the only person he has left," Snape admitted. "A misconception he'll have to correct soon.  Until then, I suppose he's entrusted his need for safety to myself."

"Perhaps, perhaps," the old wizard murmured.

"If you'll follow me," Snape grumbled with a gesture towards the door.

They returned to the dungeon in silence, the sound of their footsteps echoing heavily in the stairwell.

Severus expected to find the boy once again in his cat form, or perhaps throwing things against the walls, as seemed to be his habit.  But when he saw Harry, he felt his chest constrict painfully.

The teenager had taken refuge in his armchair, hunched over with his arms around his knees, rocking back and forth without seeming to be able to stop.  Even from where he was, Severus could see he was trembling.

Soundlessly, he went to sit on the arm of the chair, and carefully wrapped him in his arms.  "I won't leave you, Harry.  Everything will be fine."

The boy didn't answer, but allowed himself to be held by the professor.  Automatically, Snape put his hand on the boy's forehead and pulled him against himself.

In his turn, Dumbledore went to the fireplace just opposite them, his demeanor more humble than ever.  "Harry, I'm sorry to have upset you that way. I never intended to take you from Professor Snape's protection, not even before knowing that sacrificial magic was protecting you here.  The guardianship I obtained is purely administrative; I just had to exert my influence so there wouldn't be any question.  The professor's reputation as a Death Eater would've unfortunately not allowed that to be done directly."

Harry turned his eyes, at once confused and gleaming, toward the Headmaster.  "You wanted for him to make me pay, isn't that true?" he said through his teeth.

"Harry?" asked the Headmaster.

"You wanted me to pay for what I did. But he won't do it.  He's not like Uncle Vernon…."

"I don't doubt that for a moment, Harry.  If I entrusted you to Professor Snape's keeping, it's precisely because he seemed the person best qualified to protect you.  There's nothing anywhere in my intention to make you unhappy…even if I confess I'm curious to understand from where this assumption came?"

"I would never be sorry enough, would I?  That's what you said. But I am. I have regrets. About everything—my parents, Sirius, the Weasleys, and now the Dursleys.  I'm truly sorry, but I can't ask for forgiveness.  Not from you.  It's them that I should…but I can't…they're dead."  The boy's voice broke as he buried his face in the professor's robes.

The two wizards couldn't look away from the trembling teenager, even under the shock of the words they'd just heard.

When Snape had gathered enough courage to put his hands on Harry's shoulders and force the boy to look at him, he was just about certain that his own hands were shaking slightly.

"Harry, do you remember what I told you about all of this?  Lucius Malfoy, that room at his disposal in the dungeon?  None of that was real, Harry.  The Weasleys are alive, and you'll be able to see them in a few days at Hogwarts.  And the Headmaster never asked you…to ask for forgiveness, for Merlin's sake!  I was with you the entire time, you remember?  Can you truly imagine Professor Dumbledore casting a Cruciatus at you?"

The boy stared at him anxiously and confusedly.  Severus could've sworn that it was a boy of nine he had before him.

"Come now, Harry, you know perfectly well that it's impossible.  If you had to imagine someone treating you this way, it would be me, wouldn't it?  Your abominable Potions professor.  Not the Headmaster, who's continually protected you and covered for those catastrophes you've regularly brought upon yourself since you came to Hogwarts.  As for McGonagall, she'd be ready to dance a tango on the table in the Great Hall, just to create a diversion if someone sought to punish you, even rightfully.  And believe me, I'm in a position to know it, Harry, nothing's changed…not in that regard, in any case.  I'm always here for you, but I'm not the only one.  No one's betrayed you, other than the Dursleys, and they've paid a high price for their betrayal."

The boy was still watching him uncertainly.

A flash of panic shot through Harry's eyes, but a familiar hand came to rest on his forehead; he felt his entire body relax.  He could do it.  Slowly, he turned his head to face the Headmaster, who was sitting on the bed, on the other side of the fireplace.  He'd rarely appeared so fragile, Harry thought…almost vulnerable, and so old, with his long white beard and wrinkles around his eyes…eyes that seemed to be almost begging right now.

"It is I who asks for your forgiveness, Harry," the Headmaster said softly.

"I've made some deplorable decisions concerning you, from the day I entrusted you to your family, after the death of your parents. I can only understand that you're angry with me, and that the last thing you want in the world is to find yourself in my keeping.

"However, Harry, I want you to be convinced of one thing: I never sought to do you harm in any way; all my mistakes were made as I tried to do what seemed best for you. It would appear that in this mission, I've failed you terribly…and I can't help but be glad that you've found a more reliable and efficient protector than I was able to be," he finished with a look at Severus.

"Even though decisions concerning you are officially my responsibility now, I promise to not make a one that hasn't been approved by Professor Snape and yourself.  It seems clear that your place is here, especially now that sacrificial magic has been established within these walls.  The beginning of term is only two days away, but I don't intend on changing things at Hogwarts, be assured.  You will in no way be forced to deal with me. Professor Snape will take care of the formalities, if you're both in agreement on this point."

Snape could sense the Headmaster's tone become more desperate as his speech went on, in face of the lack of a reaction from Harry.

The boy was now no longer trembling, but he was still tense.  Discreetly, Snape ran his hand over Harry's back, who turned toward him, his eyes vacant.

"What do you think?" he asked the boy.

An incomprehensible groan was his answer.

"Harry?" he insisted.

"I don't know," Harry murmured. "I believe you…but what happened in the office…  It was so real to me.  I don't know anymore.  I'm sorry."

"I understand," Dumbledore agreed kindly.  "Tell me, do you have reason to believe that this scene here, in the laboratory of Snape Manor, could also be an illusion?"

"No, of course not, I know you're really here, that you're really saying what you're saying, but…"  He shrugged. "I don't know anymore what I should believe. Or think."

"In that case," the Headmaster continued, "I perhaps see a solution.  Severus, do you have a dose of Veritaserum left?"

Harry sensed the Potions master stiffen, as he himself froze, his mind suddenly refusing to work.  Veritaserum?  The Headmaster would agree to take it to reassure Harry of his intentions?  Now he understood better the question he'd just asked him, if he realized that he wasn't in a dream now, so he'd have all the proof he wanted….

The professor's voice broke into his thoughts.

"No.  All the potions I kept here were destroyed last night."

Harry felt himself blush.  Most of the potions he'd destroyed had probably been valuable, not to mention the ingredients.  Snape hadn't had the chance to scold him for it, but Harry'd catch it, sooner or later!

"In your office at Hogwarts, perhaps?" Dumbledore suggested.

Snape nodded reluctantly. 

"Would it bother you to go and bring me back a dose?" the Headmaster asked politely.

"Is that truly necessary?"

The Headmaster responded with a confidant smile, as he turned to the teenager still pulled in close to Snape.  Harry's face had flushed crimson, but he looked up when he felt Severus' eyes on him; the Potions master could read the boy's answer there, as clearly as if it'd been spoken aloud.

Yes.

Clenching his jaw, Snape got up and took a handful of Floo powder, which he then threw into the grate.  "I'll be back in a moment," he said with a reassuring look for Harry, and a more pointed one for Dumbledore.  Announcing his destination, he disappeared in the green flames.

At the same instant, Harry felt his heart pound in his chest. He was here alone with Dumbledore.  Should he really trust him, or was he going to try and attack him again?

But no, he suddenly remembered.  He was protected here, no one could attack him, thanks to Snape and the spell he'd cast to protect him.

Once again, someone had sacrificed themselves for him…and if Snape hadn't survived?  Harry shuddered.  He wanted Snape to come back, there, now, he wanted to be sure the man was all right.  What proof was there that there weren't any more Death Eaters at Hogwarts?  Or some other sort of ambush…

Harry felt his breathing become more rapid as he panicked, and shot a quick look at the Headmaster.  No, he hadn't budged, or made the slightest move for his wand.  But conversely, what if he were waiting to be sure that Snape was really dead, and that the wards were falling?  What if…

The green flames crackled once again in the fireplace, and the Potions master stepped out into the dungeon, a flask in his hand.

One look at Harry sufficed for him to understand that his fears had not been unfounded.  The boy's breathing was ragged, and he was paler than ever, his fingers clenched on the arm of the chair.

He should've told Dumbledore to go himself for his bloody potion, he swore to himself.

"Albus, could you leave us alone for a moment?"

"Certainly, certainly," the Headmaster replied hastily, before taking the steps up to the park.

As soon as the door had shut, Severus leant toward the boy and forced him to stand, then pulled him against himself, wrapping his arms around his shoulders.  Desperate situations called for desperate measures.  The potion was no longer working, of course, but he would've liked to be able to transfer some of his strength, or at the very least make him understand that he had nothing to fear.

He'd barely embraced the boy, when Harry started to shake again, clinging desperately to Snape's robes.

"I don't want you to leave," he said hoarsely. "You have no right to die.  Not now…"

Oh Merlin. Die?  Because he'd disappeared for scarcely a few minutes?

"Harry, that's completely irrational.  You heard me give the destination for my office, I was at Hogwarts. I was only gone a few moments, and I wasn't in any danger, nor were you!"

"But you almost died, throwing that spell yesterday!  Everyone dies, and I don't want … I hardly know you, and…."

Unable to finish the sentence, Harry allowed his whole body to relax, his forehead pressed against the professor's chest.  "I can't do it anymore.  Please."

At that precise instant, it seemed to Severus that once again the world had tilted slightly on its axis.  Even more…a bit to the right…  But it wasn't a somber revelation this time.  The room seemed all of a sudden a bit larger, a bit brighter, and the boy who'd surrendered himself to him was neither James Potter's son, nor Lily's, but just a child at the end of himself, who desperately needed someone.  Him.

It was just Harry.  Not the Boy Who Lived, not Shadow, not Potter…but Harry.

And Snape was going to do the right thing.  Yes, he was going to accept what the boy was offering him—his destiny, his responsibility…and he wasn't going to do it so he could be forgiven or some other such thing, or for a cause, or for a memory. He would do it for Harry.

His Harry.

It was no longer only the world that had changed, he suddenly realized, but himself.  After having taking his turns at Death Eater, spy, professor and Head of Slytherin, Severus had never expected to one day be surprised at himself.

He'd been wrong.  And for once, he suspected that that this chance would not be a cause for bitterness.

"If you'd like to rest, Harry, you're free to do so," he said, his voice steady.  "But if you feel able, I think it'd be wise to accept the Headmaster's offer.  I'll stay with you the entire time.  This infernal dilemma must be dealt with once and for all; the quicker you have a clear idea of things, the quicker you'll be able to get back on your feet."

The boy nodded, then turned toward the window.  Snape transfigured the bed back into an armchair, then went out in search of the Headmaster, who was calmly observing the park.

"You're settled in here nicely, Severus.  I understand why Harry felt comfortable here."

"Do what you have in mind, old man.  But if you have the slightest doubt over whether your revelations might hurt Harry…then abstain.  I have no intention of watching one of your dubious strategies ruin his equilibrium once again!"

There it was again, that little sparkle of amusement in the Headmaster's eyes, which didn't fail to exasperate the professor. 

"Have no fear, Severus.  I ask only that you trust me again this time."

With a skeptical snort, Snape opened the door to allow Dumbledore to enter, then both of them proceeded to the dungeon.  Harry was waiting for them, clearly nervous as the Headmaster took his armchair.

"Harry, can I ask you to promise me not to ask any questions having to do with the Order, or any others, except for those that concern our subject at hand?"

Without looking away, Harry nodded slowly.

"Good.  I trust you completely, my boy. Severus, administer the potion, if you please?" he asked courteously.

Snape handed him the flask, and the Headmaster swallowed it down without hesitation.  His eyes suddenly became vacant, and the Potions master signaled to Harry with his head.

The boy paused for a second, then pressed his lips together.  "He won't remember anything, will he?"

Severus shook his head to signal that he wouldn't.

Taking a deep breath, Harry began, "Did you ever cast a Cruciatus at me?"

"Never," answered the Headmaster calmly and neutrally.

It seemed to Harry as if a weight had just left his chest.  He could've stopped there, really, but…

"Did you hit me?"

"No."

"Did you try to have me sent back to the Dursleys this summer?"

"I would've, if Severus hadn't warned me of how badly they were treating you there.  After that, I definitely gave up the idea."

Harry let out a long sigh. But now that he'd started, the questions churned in his mind.  "Why did you leave me with the Dursleys to begin with?"

"Because they were your family, and because the wards would protect you."

"You really didn't know they hated me?"

"I knew they didn't appreciate you presence there, but I didn't know the extent of their animosity."

So that was it? Harry thought.  Because of stupid presumptions, his childhood had been irrevocably spoiled…for nothing?

"Did I disappoint you?" he asked, before even forming the question in his mind.

"No, never," came the firm reply.

Harry was silent for a moment.  He probably should've started with that question, because the weight in his chest was replaced with a gentle warmth.

"Why did you leave me with Snape?" he continued, as he avoided looking at the professor.

"Because he was the most qualified to protect you, and I was hoping that your relationship would profit from it."

"Are you really going to allow the professor to make the decisions about me?"

"Certainly."

"Do you…"  Do you think of me as a weapon, or do you have my best interests at heart? he'd meant to say.  But he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.  Not here, in any case, and not now.

Shaking his head, he turned to Snape.  "Do you have questions?"

Severus seemed disconcerted for a moment, then stared thoughtfully at the Headmaster.

"Do you intend to give me carte blanche with Harry, or do you plan on exercising your right if things don't turn out as you'd like?"

"I'd only do that as a last resort, but I wouldn't hesitate if the situation required it."

Snape digested the answer for an instant, then turned to Harry. "Could you leave for a moment, please?"

The boy looked at him questioningly, but headed without a word for the stairway to the upper storey.

Severus waited a few moments, then moved to face the Headmaster. He only had time for a single question, but it was going to put it to good use.  "Albus, would you support me if I applied to adopt Harry Potter?"

It took a second for the answer to come.

"Yes."