The sun had almost set by the time the boy's sobbing finally subsided, with one last hiccough. For an instant, Severus stopped rubbing soothing circles on the boy's back, something he'd been doing for hours now, and bent over to see his face better.

Harry'd fallen asleep, exhausted by tears and emotion. His eyes were closed as he frowned in his sleep; Severus remained in place for a moment, rocking the boy without thinking.

He'd expected for Harry to end up by exploding, in one way or another, after all that'd happened to him since the beginning of the summer. The boy was perhaps stable, but no sixteen year old teenager could remain perpetually stoic in the face of such a deluge of calamities.

But as for what'd happened…Snape didn't know what he should think. He'd been able to feel Harry's emotions as he sifted through Snape's memories, while he saw the world through the Potions master's eyes. Confusion, of course, incomprehension, fear, and shame as well.  And above all, hope. Hope that he placed in him, Severus Snape.

If only things could've remained that simple, but he was going to have to answer questions, of course. He couldn't get out of it this time, not after Harry'd seen Lily and Petunia, James and Black.

Nor after he'd been able to experience the way Snape had lived through those things.

With a sigh, he began to get up, Harry in his arms. Even in his weakened state, he had no trouble carrying him. He should see that he ate more, even at Hogwarts. He remembered often seeing the boy leave a half-full plate. Every time he was shaken or upset, in fact.

Snape shook his head. Harry needed to be watched over. It was time for someone to decide once and for all to take care of the boy, starting with his eating habits, his clothes, and Merlin, his bedtimes, if one were to believe the number of times he'd found him wandering the corridors!

He slowly made his way toward the dungeon, regretting not being able to cast a sleeping spell to keep Harry asleep. But the boy seemed too exhausted to awaken anyway.

Clenching his jaw, Severus laid him carefully in the chair, before swallowing down a Pepperup potion.

Then, with a quick motion, he transformed the chair into a bed again, straightening the boy out and covering him with a blanket. Placing his glasses on the small table to the side, Severus turned to his cauldrons again.

He'd need another potion if he wanted to have enough magic to finish his work, as he was unable to cast the smallest spell without a battery of potions to sustain him. Actually, in this condition he was almost a Squib.

Refusing to allow himself to be discouraged, the professor quickly swallowed down the contents of several phials, shooting one last look at the sleeping boy. He really seemed younger like this, traces of tears still visible on his cheeks.

To think the little devil had managed to Legilimize him without a wand or incantation. Once again, felt a wave of pride wash over him. He had to teach Harry how to control himself, though; that scenario should've never happened—not with himself nor anyone else. It'd taken Snape a long time to accept that this ability, used indiscriminately, could be a curse. Complete truth wasn't always a good thing to possess, and Legilimency carried a price of its own.

At this memory, Severus absentmindedly rubbed at his temples. Yes, he was going to have many things to explain to the boy…many more than he'd have liked.

What if, after that, Harry decided that he couldn't trust the Potions master anymore? Or even talk to him, or want to spend time with him?

A completely uncharacteristic tugging at his heart strings made the wizard shudder. It didn't matter; he had a promise to keep. Even if the boy didn't want to have anything more to do with him, he'd take care of him in his own way.

Like he had before, in short. It would be just another year at Hogwarts.

Snape shook his head, frustrated.

No, certainly not. Lily hadn't wanted to listen to him, and Snape, for his part, had never been able to bring himself to talk to her, not like he should've done. But he wasn't seventeen now, and he wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. He'd take the time and energy required, because he was in this to the end, and wouldn't let Harry pull away like Lily. Merlin, not now.

Without thinking, Snape began to look for a calming potion, before stopping himself. He didn't hurt anywhere just now, and his hands weren't trembling from any secondary effects of Cruciatus, so why the bloody hell would he need a potion?

Because he was nervous, he realized. Anxious. Troubled. Severus Snape…anguished, the thought drifted slowly through his mind.

By burying certain things, there where they ought to have remained, fifteen years in the past, he'd also caused others to rise to the surface. One way of seeing things, perhaps. One way of living.  Or was that just living?

Snape caught himself laughing softly and disconcertedly. Almost bereft of powers, and now a new sentimental vision of the world. Voldemort had no need to try and kill him after all. Snape was going to manage that very well on his own.

A bitter smile on his face as he stirred a potion in the cauldron, Severus felt his neck bristle with a familiar sensation. He turned around toward the bed, and was unsurprised to see the green eyes staring at him.

"How do you feel?" he calmly asked.

The eyes didn't blink, and the boy's face remained immobile

Severus took three potions from the table, and went to sit beside Harry. "Drink these."

The boy obeyed without looking away for even an instant.

"Is that better?"

His answer was a rapid blinking of eyes. The two wizards remained still for a long moment, faces unmoving, their eyes riveted on one another.

Then Severus got up unhurriedly from his chair, and headed for the same small cupboard near the fireplace, where he'd asked Dumbledore to go for potions. Manipulating a stone as he murmured a quick incantation, he lifted the board that served as the bottom, then lifted out a wooden box embossed with leather, which he stroked with his palm.

A box to contain potions didn’t surprise Harry; a serviceable cask made of rough wood, unadorned. But this one was different…the mahogany glittered gold in the firelight, and the curved lines of the box, its delicate inlays, stood out in contrast to the angular man holding it.

Carrying the cask as if it were something precious and fragile, Snape returned and took his place beside Harry, who hadn't moved. His movements were neutral, his bearing deliberately relaxed, but Harry could sense that the moment was a solemn one.

The professor opened the box sitting atop his knees, and Harry had to fight the urge to crane his neck to see what was inside.

Trying to keep his expression unreadable, Snape lifted a piece of paper from the box and handed it to the boy.

For a second, Harry thought his heart had stopped beating. A photo…it was an old black-and-white Muggle photo, and despite the absence of color, it only took him an instant to recognize the two children there, perched upon a fence, one of them laughing, the other smiling with uncertain eyes. Lily and Snape. They couldn't have been more than ten, and were posed like two Muggle children on a summer day.

Without thinking, Harry took the photo the professor was handing him, and then sat up to better look at it.

Yes, there wasn't any doubt, even if ten years had passed between this photo and the ones he had in his album; he could easily recognize his mother, her long red hair blowing in the wind, her smiling, soft face lit up with laughter. And Snape…how could he be so similar to and yet at the same time so different from the man sitting beside him, watching his reaction?

The little boy watching Harry's mother seemed torn between the joy of her company and his obvious discomfort at the presence of the camera. His hair was longer than it was now, and framed his face, giving him a closed-off look that contrasted with the open expression of the little girl at his side. But all the affection and admiration the boy had for Lily could be seen in his eyes as he watched her.

Snape and Lily as children. It was surreal.

With his hand, Snape pointed to the photo. "That was taken the summer before we left for Hogwarts," he explained in a measured tone. "It was your grandfather who wanted to take it, so that we'd have a souvenir of the house when we were away. I think this is the only Muggle photo I've ever owned."

"You knew my grandfather?" Harry asked, shocked.

Snape nodded. "He was a good man. Your grandmother as well. I stayed to dine with them sometimes when Lily and I got home late. They were aware that my family situation was a bit…oppressive. They were always very generous to me; their deaths probably affected me as much as that of my own parents. They were murdered the very same day, actually, and for the same reason. Lily was inconsolable.

Harry only stared at him, his eyes wide, his mouth half-open.

"We lived in the same neighborhood as children. You mother didn't know she was a witch until I told her. I must say that the revelation didn't have the effect I'd anticipated," he said with a slight smile.

"But over time, we became friends. Very good friends. We left together for Hogwarts, where we continued to spend time together. Our friendship wasn't well-received, of course…her in Gryffindor, myself in Slytherin. That didn't keep us from studying together, and remaining friends, at least at the beginning. As time went on, things changed. We grew up, and formed other friendships, each in our own circles. Her with your father and his cohorts, and me…with other Slytherins," he said simply.

"What you saw in the Pensieve," he continued after a moment. "I think that was the beginning of the end. She forgave me that time. But she'd understood…when I asked her to forgive me, she listened, and begged me to break off all contact with Voldemort's followers. For a while, everything was fine…we became close again, more than we'd ever been before. Up until the day when the Death Eaters decided it was time to put me back on the right path. When I refused to follow them, they took drastic measures. That's the day your grandparents and my parents were murdered, in the same attack."

Harry let out a gasp of shock. Eyes bulging, he couldn't speak a word, incapable of even making his brain work.

Snape nodded. Harry thought he could see a hint of fear in the somber eyes as he began to speak again.

"And yes…it was because of me that your grandparents died, Harry. They would've no doubt taken you in when your parents died…also dead because of me, by the way." He took a deep breath before going on.

"After that, I understood that Lily was no longer safe. I distanced myself abruptly. When she wanted to come to me, I pushed her away. When she told me she loved me…I laughed in her face. I told her I'd never want to have anything to do with a Mudblood, and I let her go, crying.

"And then, when my position with the Dark Lord was cemented, I thought that it was time to go back and find her, that she was no longer at risk, and that she'd be proud of me. Yes, proud of me…  That time, she was the one to laugh. She didn't try to listen to me, and I certainly can't blame her for that. If I'd had the courage to tell her, perhaps…but I didn't, and she went off with James. We left Hogwarts, her on the arm of your father, myself with the Mark on my own. We'd both chosen our fates. A few years later, I sealed both theirs and yours, without knowing it…until afterward.

He waved his hand in the air. "Nothing has ever been the same."

Severus leant back in his chair, feeling even emptier than after having cast his last Protego. How long had it been since he'd last recalled all of that? No, he corrected himself. He'd quite simply never done it. He'd reported the essential facts to Dumbledore, but he'd never spoken of Lily in this way.

And now her son was looking at him, mouth hanging open, confusion filling his eyes.

Resigned, Snape endured his gaze. He waited for the anger to come, then the hatred, perhaps sadness, pain, and betrayal…

For a long moment, nothing happened.

Then Harry abruptly closed his mouth, only to open it again. "But she came back, didn't she?"

"Came back?" Snape asked uncertainly.

"She's who I saw…in your memories…at the cemetery, she came to help me. Help us."

Severus didn't know exactly if it was the mention of Lily's ghost or the 'us' that Harry'd just used, but he had trouble swallowing before he continued. "Yes, she came back for you…as well as your father and Black. They were probably the ones who gave you the gift of your new Animagus powers."

"Really? You're sure about that? That makes sense…" the boy murmured.

"There's nothing certain, but the Headmaster shares this opinion."

"I don't have any memory of them…just what I hear when the Dementors are around. My mother screaming, trying to save me."

Snape nodded. "I don't know if this will help you…but my memories are at your disposal."

With those words, he held the open box out to the boy, who took hold of it with a trembling hand, with the same reverence that the professor had demonstrated as he handled it.

Harry held his breath as he lowered his eyes to look into the box.

Photos, he saw immediately, and letters too… and a few objects lying at the bottom of the box like forgotten treasures.

"This was my mother's?" he asked breathlessly.

"The cask was. I'd made it for her, one summer…she returned it to me just before her marriage."

His eyes were far away now, lost in his memories, Harry didn't doubt.

"Did you love her?"

The tone of voice was too indifferent, too innocent. But Severus answered all the same.

"More than anything."

"And you never told her that, did you?"

Snape smiled slightly, bitterly. "Of course not."

"Because Death Eaters never say things like that?" Harry asked in a challenging voice.

"Not to a Mudblood, no," Snape replied.

"Don't call my mother that," Harry muttered.

Once again, that pained, small smile.

Gritting his teeth, the boy picked up a random photo. A wizarding photo this time, and in it, one could see the same children, a bit older now, on the banks of the Hogwarts' lake. Both of them were laughing this time, and Harry thought that he'd never seen this expression on the adult version of Snape.

In the photo, he seemed to be about thirteen, and was standing in water up to his knees, soaked from head to foot, splashing a hysterically laughing Lily trying to shied herself. Both of them were in shirts and trousers, the colors of their respective Houses clearly evident in the color photo.

It was nice weather, and they both seemed happy. It was almost easy to imagine the scene: a Saturday afternoon in the spring, they must've been talking as they neared the lake, and suddenly, Lily got that little mischievous gleam in her eyes, and had pushed Severus into the water, bursting into laughter as she watched him get up again, soaking wet. He'd held out a hand for her to help him up, but instead of grabbing it, he'd retaliated, splashing her in turn, while Lily laughed even harder.

So, who then, could've taken this photo?

"McGonagall," Severus answered his unspoken question, making Harry startle.

"Dumbledore had just given her a camera, and she spent her time taking photos of everything that moved…or not. A veritable curse for many couples at Hogwarts that year. But she was tactful enough to give all the photos she took to her victims."

"You…you were dating?" Harry asked.

"Not at the time, no. We were just friends…it was only after the episode you saw in the Pensieve that things changed."

Now it was Harry's turn to swallow hard, as he replaced the photo into the box.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke, their eyes lost in the contemplation of the bit of sky that the window let in.

"I'm sorry," Severus finally said wearily.

Harry forced himself to meet his eyes. "I saw them, you know. My parents and Sirius, when I was a prisoner at Malfoy Manor."

Snape looked at him impassively.

"They…told me I'd disappointed them. That they were dead because of me, and that it hadn't been worth it. That they regretted being my…" He shook his head, unable to finish the sentence.

"Harry, they came back for you. Without their intervention, I would've never been able to get us out of the cemetery, let alone get you away from Voldemort. They love you, Harry, much more than you know…"

"They did it so I can finish whatever I have to do, what everyone's waiting for me to do. But they're angry with me, I know it, they told me so…."

It was Snape's turn to shake his head in frustration. "Harry, you don't seem to realize. To accomplish what they did, your parents and Black summoned up all the love they had for you, all their desire to protect you and save you. There was nothing calculating about it; they did it for you, and for you only. That scenario you saw, where they told you… I know I'm not mistaken in telling you that it was certainly all an act on the part of Lucius and Bellatrix. Lily would've never said such a thing, let along thought it. And your father….would've been very proud of you, Harry. Truly very proud."

Was it all in his mind, or had Snape's voice become husky as he said those last words? Harry wondered. But what he'd just said had made sense. If the episode in Dumbledore's office had never taken place, nor the one at the Dursleys'…then certainly this one could equally have been a macabre act as well.

And yet….

"I saw you, you as well. Just before they came…you were with Voldemort. Did that really happen, I saw it in your memories…"

Snape nodded. "I seemed to see you, that's correct. Or rather your eyes, Lily's eyes. I was looking desperately for a way to get you out of there, but I had no other choice but to wait."

"I know," Harry said gently.

Snape let out a low groan. Clearly, Harry knew. He'd seen the scene through Snape's own eyes just several hours ago.

"Are you upset with me?" the boy asked.

Disconcerted, Snape sighed. "Where to begin? No, Harry, I'm not cross with you…I think I'm right in saying that you weren't trying to break into my mind?

The boy shook his head sheepishly. "I wanted to understand …but not that way. I don't know how I was able to do that."

"Voldemort is an expert in Legilimency. You've most likely acquired a brand new mastery of this power. It's sometimes difficult to control; we'll work on that. Until then, I'd appreciate it if you'd do your best to see that this sort of situation doesn't happen again."

Harry nodded his head, stunned. After Snape's reaction when Harry'd looked at the contents of his Pensieve, he'd expected an explosion over this new transgression...but was this so surprising, that there wasn't one? Because things had changed between the two of them as well; he'd had a front row seat to see into the professor's mind. The wizard was attached to him, and to Shadow, and anyway….

"When my mother carried me to you, at Godric's Hollow, after the cemetery, she said something to you…"

Snape nodded slowly. "She asked me to take care of you."

Which isn't entirely correct, the Potions master thought. But not completely false either. Even if Harry needed to hear certain things, it was much too soon to tell him that Lily wanted Harry to be with Snape.. The boy was still much too upset to know what to make of this sort of revelation.

"I'm sorry," Harry suddenly let out.

"Harry," Snape sighed, "it rather seems that it is I who owes you an apology…but so be it, enlighten me, what are you sorry for?"

"You really don't have any more power, do you?"

Snape felt his jaw clench. "Of course I do. My magic is simple weakened just now, and I'll have to rely on potions to preserve a sufficient store of it, but my powers will increase, bit by bit, over time."

"Like with Voldemort," murmured the boy.

"Yes, like with Voldemort," Snape confirmed.

A long silence settled between them. At the end of the room, a cauldron bubbled, a peaceful sound in the quiet of the dungeon.

"Do you think I look like my mother?" Harry asked abruptly.

"Certainly," Snape replied.

"And my father?"

"As well."

"Whom do I resemble most?" the boy insisted.

"Neither in particular—you're fully your own person, and it was hard to see you otherwise…once past my initial prejudices," Snape said.

"Your initial…" Harry murmured.

"Those first years—perhaps I should say," the professor answered softly.

"You hated me because of my father, isn't that right? And now you accept me, thanks to my mother…"

"Harry, it's not that simple," Snape said as he sat up straighter. "It's true that your resemblance to your father, what you stood for, clouded my judgment up until this summer. I really don't have any excuse, except that I didn't want to think of the past anymore, and your arrival forced me to, in a way. But you're the one who's made me change my mind, not Lily…."

"Me, or Shadow?" Harry asked with a hint of challenge in his voice.

"I assume it was Shadow at the start," Snape admitted. "But strangely, I remember often thinking that Shadow looked a great deal like you, even before knowing…"

"You're a spy; I imagine you're used to noticing everything."

Snape nodded. "Whatever the case, you're the one I care about  now. And I'll repeat what I've already said: I'll always be there to help you, Harry."

"Always?" the boy asked.

"As long as you have need," Snape promised.

"It's weird, isn't it? All of this…you, being here…I don't know if it's really sunk in yet…"

"No, I imagine not," said the Potions master. "But I hope that'll come with time."

"Time? Term starts at Hogwarts tomorrow. I can't say I'm really in a hurry to be back in Potions class…" Harry murmured.

"Harry, I'm not going to claim that my attitude was entirely dictated by my role as Voldemort's spy…but a great many of my personal attacks toward you were acts for the Death Eater children present. I no longer care about any of that now, and I'm the first to feel relieved," Snape said.

"That's a bit flippant…" Harry let loose, before abruptly looking away.

Severus found himself feeling more wounded by the remark than he would've believed. It was totally deserved, however…

"I apologize for that as well."

The words slipped out almost naturally, and he wasn't entirely certain of having planned to say them. Simply astonishing, and astonishingly easy to say…

It would seem that Harry was just as shocked to hear them; he stared at Snape, wide-eyed. "No, I…you didn't…" the boy stopped. "Yes," he continued slowly, "I suppose you could say that. It's not as if nothing ever happened. But I feel bad, saying that to you after all you've done for me. I mean…things have changed."

"Certainly," Snape answered, "but that doesn't in any way excuse the mistakes of the past. I simply hope they won't keep you from accepting my help."

"No," Harry said. "After all, you're…"

He shrugged. "I trust you."

Snape smiled at him slightly.

Harry held the wooden cask out to him reluctantly. "Could I see it again later? I'd like to look at the other photos, but…not all at once. If it's all right?" the boy asked, full of hope.

But Snape pushed the box back toward him. "It's yours, keep it. Try to take care of it…"

Harry was stunned speechless for a moment. "I can't accept…it's yours, these are your souvenirs!"

"Most of these things belonged to your mother. They're rightfully yours," Snape answered gently.

"But you won't have anything left of hers…."

"You are here; that will always be the best souvenir of Lily I could have. I know these photos and letters by heart, Harry; I won't miss them," said the professor.

Harry didn't know what to say, but the lump in his throat kept him from speaking anyway.

Snape apologizing and giving him is photos of Lily. Talking to him as if he…as if he…

With shaking hands, Harry placed the cask beside him. He would've liked to have been able to tell him, explain to him…but explain what? That he didn't know what to make of things anymore, that he needed him, that he was afraid as well, that his powers frightened him, that he felt like a tightrope walker toeing a taut wire…

But he couldn't. And not only because of the lump in his throat. It was all simply too, too much for him, too much for the moment…

Everything was jumbled up in his head, to the point of becoming a black, indistinct mass, and when he opened his eyes again a moment later, the room was bathed in soft light, and things were suddenly much simpler and clearer.

The Man In Black was there in front of him, and the fire was pleasantly warming his fur, and it was a fine day. He fell to his back, rubbing his fur against the coverlet to mark his territory.

He was home.

***

Severus Snape watched the clearly contented cat rolling on the coverlet, like any other pet cat would've done. The contrast with the boy's pained expression of just a few moments ago was bothersome.

"Harry?" he tried.

The cat didn't react.

"Harry Potter?"

The cat raised its head at his voice, but it was obvious that it hardly cared.

"Harry, if you understand, I'd like you to transform back again."

The cat rubbed its paw against its head without paying him any attention.

"Shadow?" Snape said with a sigh.

This time, the green eyes questioningly sought out Snape's.

Severus leant back in his chair. This time, it was conclusive. There wasn't any possible doubt, and their conversation of just minutes ago hadn't changed a thing.

He'd expected it, obviously. Otherwise, it would've been too simple…

The Potions master got up and threw a handful of Floo powder into the grate. "Dumbledore's office, Hogwarts."

Sticking his head and chest into the flames, he glanced around the familiar office. The Headmaster was there, quill in hand, looking up at him, his eyes full of kindness.

"Severus, I didn't think to see you so soon! Come in, come in!"

"Thank you, Albus, but that won't be necessary. I just wanted to alert you that Potter and myself will be late for the start of term at Hogwarts."

His statement was met by a long silence. "And how late will you be?" Dumbledore finally asked.

"At the very least, two days. I'm sorry, Albus, but Harry is still too fragile, and I don't want to leave him alone. I'll do what I can to meet the Slytherins tomorrow evening after the Sorting Ceremony, but I cannot promise you anything."

"You're taking your role as protector very seriously, my boy…" Albus began.

"I take my position as Head of House just as seriously, but Harry needs me more than my students just now. I'm sure you can understand that," Snape retorted.

"My remark certainly wasn't a criticism," Dumbledore said with a conciliatory gesture. "You both need time to get back on your feet, which I understand completely. I'll take care of your Slytherins, Severus, have no fear. I hope, though, that your absence won't be for too long…we need you, and I'm sure Harry'd like to see his friends."

"That's part of the problem, Albus," Snape explained. "He's still not convinced they're alive. He's still having trouble putting together all that's happened…and what never really happened. Best to take these things a step at a time. I suggest that Weasley and Granger come to the Manor to see Harry first, when he's well again."

"Well again? I'd somehow had the impression that our young friend was progressing nicely under your influence, Severus," Dumbledore said, surprised.

"Albus, just a few days ago, he was in Voldemort's clutches. Don't ask too much of him. Even heroes must break down from time to time, and yours is only a teenager."

The little sparkle in the Headmaster's eyes had brightened at the word 'hero', but Severus didn't bat an eye. "And what's become of the symbol, Severus, the weapon you didn't want to abandon?"

"A cat," the Potions master replied laconically. "If you have nothing else to tell me...?"

"Nothing else, Severus," the Headmaster said in a jovial voice. "Other than to thank you, and tell you to take care of yourself…and your cat."

With a growl, Snape pulled out of the fireplace. Why was it that Dumbledore always had to have the last word?

"Very well, Potter, just the two of us," he said as he turned toward the cat. "Shadow—Harry, look at me. I want your undivided attention. You-are-not-a-cat," he hammered out. "You are an Animagus: uncontrolled, illegal, come from who knows where, but an Animagus all the same."

The cat listened attentively, its big green eyes full of curiosity.

"Potter," Snape began. "Harry," he sighed, "why do I have the feeling that I've seen this expression on your human face before? And more precisely, during Potions class, when you feigned great interest in the lesson, all the while planning strategy for the next Quidditch match?"

The cat hung its head, seeming to concentrate.

"Yes, exactly like that," Snape murmured. Quidditch. This was the thought Harry attached himself to in order to resume his human form. He had to use it.

"You remember, Harry, Quidditch? Flying through the air, avoiding Bludgers, capturing the Snitch?"

Severus groaned at his own lack of enthusiasm. It most likely wasn't the best way to summon up memories…

An idea suddenly flashed through his mind. Dumbledore had left him the things he'd recovered from Harry's Muggle family, his class things, some clothing…and the birthday gifts he'd just received           !

With the hint of a smile, Severus made the boy's trunk appear in front of him. It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for. With a quick move, he threw the miniature broom into the air, a gift from the youngest Weasley boy.

The little broom began to circle around them, clearly searching for where to go.

Snape noticed that Shadow, as if hypnotized, intently followed its comings and goings. A good start, he thought; perhaps this wouldn't be so difficult after all. It was a matter of finding the right triggers…

He felt his heart jump in his chest when the cat got up to head after the flying broom.

"That's good, Harry, look at it, you remember?" he encouraged the cat.

The cat looked at him briefly, before returning its attention to the broom. Then, crouching, it launched itself at the object, trapping it agilely between its paws, before nailing it to the floor and gnawing at it, its eyes glowing with satisfaction. It lost its concentration for a moment as it heard the groan that the Potions master let out, and the little broom used this chance to once again take to the air, spinning around the tomcat.

Ignoring the Man In Black, the cat took off across the room in wild pursuit, Snape's disconcerted eyes following it.

This wasn't at all what he'd expected. He would've liked to believe that these were Harry's Seeker reflexes at work, but seeing the quintessentially feline jumps of the cat, he doubted it.

Quite simply a young cat at play.

And could he be upset with Harry? Shadow didn't seem worried about anything but his cat life; it would seem he was happy and carefree, while Harry was struggling to find his sense of equilibrium after the trials he'd just had to live through.

If he himself had been able to transform into a cat…  Getting a grip on himself, Severus raised his wand. "Accio miniature broom."

The broom crossed the room to come to rest in his hand. A bit begrudgingly, the cat trotted to him, and jumped onto the chair again.

"Well, so much for Quidditch. Clearly, it will perhaps require…" The terribly vivid image of himself perched on his broom with a black cat on his shoulder flitted through his mind; he shook his head as he made a disgusted face. This wasn't Salem, by Merlin, and he strongly doubted that this sort of experience would help them much!

 Lacking conviction, he opened Harry's trunk. He loathed ransacking through the boys' belongings, and for some reason, he doubted the solution would be there.

It wasn't the positive parts of Harry's life that would make the boy come back to himself, but it was the darkest periods that were going to keep him from doing so.

Severus tapped his check with his finger. He'd known he'd end up approaching it this way. The solution was truly extreme, and he would've dearly loved to be able to avoid it, but he was only losing time by hesitating.

Tensing his jaw, he threw another handful of Floo powder into the fireplace, and stuck his head into the flames.

***

Shadow never ceased to be amazed by the Man In Black's abilities. He could capture the little flying broom with a single gesture from the other end of the room, and he went through flames as if they weren't even there!

His admiration for the wizard knew no bounds. A light purring in his throat, he fell onto the jumper. If he'd just give him something to eat, he'd be completely content!

The Man In Black pulled his head from the flames, then his black eyes moved to locate the cat's. They seemed darker now, his expression resigned and his teeth clenched.

"Listen to me well, Harry. I was hoping to be able to put this off until later, but it'd be a mistake to let this situation go on. You're probably not going to like what's about to happen, at least initially, and believe me, you will certainly not be the only one. Try not to distance yourself, and no nonsense. Ah. I don't know. Try…to be yourself."

Slightly worried, Shadow looked at him, his head cocked to the side. The Man In Black's tone of voice clearly told him that this was a critical moment.

Stepping out with determination, Snape went to the cat and took it in his arms. Everything was arranged; he couldn't back out now. Throwing a handful of Floo powder, he enunciated once again, "The Burrow!" and dashed into the flames, the cat pressed against his chest.

An outing to the Weasleys. Merlin preserve him…

The Burrow's tiny kitchen had always struck him as the most abominably friendly and disorganized place he'd ever seen. Each time an emergency meeting had taken place here, he'd felt more uncomfortable in the family décor than in the Malfoy dungeons.

The sensation began again as soon as he saw Molly Weasley trotting toward them, when they'd scarcely entered the room.

"Severus, Harry, I'm so happy to see you! Come in!"

The Potions master felt Shadow tense against him, so he forced himself to assume a more relaxed attitude. He was there to reassure Harry, so it was senseless to add to his anxiousness.

Mrs. Weasley was already coming over to pet the cat, and Snape saw panic get the better of the animal.

"Molly, it'd be better not to rush things. Harry isn't entirely himself just now," he said to the woman, who pulled back, disappointed.

"Of course, of course…where would you like to start? A tour of the house, perhaps? I asked Arthur and the children to stay outside for now; they were a bit upset, actually." She nervously twisted the tea towel in her hands. "Oh, it's so frustrating…we'd hoped to take Harry for part of the summer; but of course, after all that's happened, it's a wonderful thing that he was able to stay with you, Severus. We're all very grateful to you."

"Molly," Snape interrupted. "Could you try to act naturally? The reason for this visit is to convince Harry that no one is dead, and believe me, that isn't clear at all, just to listen to you!"

For an instant, Mrs. Weasley seemed torn between indignation and guilt, before taking refuge in more familiar territory. "Would you like a spot of tea? Some milk for Harry?"

"He doesn't take milk, but a cup of tea would be welcome," Snape agreed as blandly as he could.

Leaving Molly to busy herself at the stove, he tried to set Shadow on the floor, but the cat didn't have the least intention of leaving his Man In Black.

Heart racing, he clung desperately to the wizard's black robes. This place didn't suit him, and the woman who talked nonstop seemed particularly nervous.

Agile fingers detached his claws from the fabric, and he found himself standing on the paved floor of the kitchen, examining the room with caution as he searched for potential threats.

The roomed seemed somehow familiar…a smell, perhaps, an uncertain quality that gave him an impression of comfort and wellbeing, despite the tension filling the room.

But something was going on here, something that had nothing to do with the décor…

Shivering, he went to take cover between the Man In Black's legs. Whatever occurred, he knew the man wouldn't let anything bad happen to him, but he also knew that the anxiety filling him wasn't coming from an outside threat.

He heard the sound of voices, coming from a different time.

The cat shook its head. The only sound filling the room just now was that of the conversation between his Man In Black and the woman with the lively gestures. Still, he could almost see the shadows of silhouettes around the table, pale ghosts that left his stomach in knots and his mouth dry, without him knowing why.

Without thinking, he jumped to the Man In Black's knees.

"Well, Severus," said Molly Weasley, dumbfounded, "it seems that Harry is very used to you!"

"For now, it's just a matter of the cat's personality. He's much more outgoing in this form, even though our relationship has indeed changed in recent weeks," the Potions master replied.

"After all that's happened, I don't doubt it. Do you think he recognizes the house?"

"It's possible. But he certainly doesn't realize it completely," said Snape.

"Should I have the children come in?" Molly asked, clearly ill-at-ease.

Severus hesitated for a moment. Shadow was slightly shaking, probably from memories trying to come to the surface again. Reluctantly, he agreed. As painful as it was, they had to see it through to the end.

"Only your youngest boy and Miss Granger, to start off. You've brought them up to speed on the situation?"

Molly nodded sadly. "They know that Harry won't recognize them right away, and that they should take care not to rush him. To be honest, I'm counting on Hermione to keep Ron from being too enthusiastic!"

"Indeed, that would be more sensible. Can your kitchen withstand a possible feline escape attempt?"

"That shouldn't pose a problem," said Mrs. Weasley. "Should I call the children?"

"Please." While she went to the window, Snape stood from his chair and once again placed the cat on the floor.

"Stay calm. You've nothing to fear here; I just want you to do your best to remember who you are; let your memories guide you," he murmured.

An instant later, the door opened and two teenagers silently entered the kitchen. Molly must've truly lectured them before their arrival, because they appeared nervous and uncertain, not daring to make a move.

For once, Snape doubted that he was the cause of it.

As for the cat, it pressed against his leg, watching the new arrivals distrustfully.

"Hullo, Harry!" Hermione finally said, putting a knee on the floor so she could be at the cat's level.

"It's really nice to see you, mate," Ron added hesitantly.

Shadow flicked his ears, but nothing indicated that he recognized them. He didn't appear to be as bothered as Severus had feared, though, so he took a step farther away from him.

"Molly, I think it'd be best if I go somewhere else," he said evenly.

"Of course. I'll go to the sitting room with you," Mrs. Weasley said. With a glance of warning toward the two teenagers, she opened the door and followed Snape out, leaving the three friends alone in the kitchen.

The door had scarcely closed when Ron let out a groan of relief. "Really, Harry, I don't know how…are you all right? He's not done anything to you? Snape, I mean, is he treating you well?"

The cat crouched down, its ears flattened. His Man In Black had left him alone, so did that mean he had nothing to fear from these two humans? He didn't like this.

"Ron, that's enough! You know very well that Professor Snape saved Harry!"

"That doesn't necessarily mean he's nice to him; he'd already saved his life in first-year—that didn't keep him from being nasty afterward!" the boy retorted.

As the dispute continued, Shadow's head was a jumble of thoughts. On the one hand, he was fairly persuaded that the two humans were saying bad things about his Man In Black, and that was making him furious. On the other hand… these voices and this conversation had a familiar ring that he couldn't quite put his finger on; it made him think vaguely of a different place, with long corridors, a fire, and for some inexplicable reason, the colors red and gold.

The more the sensations bombarded him inside his head, the more he felt his heart race and his breathing spiral out of control. Where was the Man In Black? He needed him, he wanted to go home…he shouldn't be here, the two humans shouldn't have found him here…it wasn't normal…

"He doesn't seem in that great a shape to me," the boy continued.

"Obviously, Ron, you're doing this on purpose, by Merlin! Harry was with Voldemort only a few days ago!" the young girl answered, appalled.

Harry… The Man In Black…he too had called him that, as if he'd expected something by calling him by that name.

"I don't trust him, that's all! Look at Harry, he doesn't even recognize us!"

"That's exactly why we're here, and you're not helping much!"

"Who knows, maybe this isn't even the same cat!"

"Oh, enough," the girl groaned. "Harry, I'm sorry, all of that's so ridiculous.  We were terribly worried, you being kidnapped right after what'd just happened, it was really horrible! Is there something we can do for you?"

Her voice was shaking now, and new images came to flit through the cat's head. She cried often, didn't she? This human was rather emotional…the boy, on the other hand….

"Hermione, he can't understand you," Ron said as he slid his arm around her shoulders.

…the boy was in love with her. Amusing.

"He understood us fine at Grimmauld Place," she sniffled.

"That was different, 'Mione," the boy tried to console her.

"Oh, you still have your necklace, Harry!" Hermione remarked.

The necklace. He knew this word; they were talking about the silver thing around his neck. Sometimes he scratched at it, but he liked to feel it there; it was comforting…

This time a much clearer image than the ones before insinuated itself into his mind, and Shadow had to sit down under the force of the shock.

The necklace. The girl. He was perched on a chair, in a different room, and the human, her eyes wet, was telling him how happy she was that the necklace had helped him. And he'd not been afraid of her; on the contrary, he'd gone closer and placed a paw on her face, and had rubbed against her….

The necklace. The bracelet…a letter, an envelope, an owl; he knew that window, he'd fled through its bars. It was she, the girl who'd sent…the bracelet. He'd put it on his wrist…his what?

Suddenly seized with panic, the cat jumped back violently, until its back hit the wall. Just in front of him, the two teenagers were watching him, wide-eyed, stunned speechless.  His heart about to beat out of his chest, Shadow reflected their bewildered looks back to them. He shouldn't be there…they were…they….

This entire place shouldn't be here! The images were all mixed together in his head; a smoking ruin, the scattered bodies, these same faces now watching him, covered in blood, eyes that were fixed and vacant…and despair, the unbearable despair that'd spread through him…

Panic-stricken, he took a single leap to the window ledge, throwing himself against the glass pane to break it, letting out a meow of distress. He had to get out of here immediately!

He heard someone open the door, and the human start to shout, "Professor! Professor Snape! Come quick!"

The sound of footsteps followed, and an instant later, the Man In Black appeared in the room, slamming the door behind him. Without hesitation, Shadow streaked toward him, jumping into arms that caught him in mid-air, before holding him against his black robes.

Safe…at last.

"It will be all right, Harry, calm yourself. Everything's fine. Look around you, everything is real, you understand? Let your memories come back…"

Despite himself, Shadow opened his eyes again and met those of the two teenagers watching him with their mouths hanging open. He'd seen those expressions before on those same two faces…and in the same circumstances: when they'd been surprised to see him go to the Man In Black. But that the time, things had been different.

And now, things were wrong, terribly unreal…because they should've never been there, watching him; they were dead, and this house had been destroyed!

This realization struck him full-force. They couldn't be there, that's what was wrong! But his wizard was there too, and he was very real….

He felt hands carefully pick him up and place him on the table. He turned to look at the Man In Black, and read the calm determination in his eyes. He had something to accomplish, and the wizard would be at his side, whatever happened.

The two young wizards stealthily approached the table and stayed there, unmoving, their faces full of hope and doubt.

Gathering all of his courage, Shadow crossed the table and got close enough to almost touch them, his body completely tense, ready to flee at the slightest sign of a threat.

But they didn't move; actually, they hardly seemed to breathe. H felt his heart pound even harder. They were still alive, then? They had to be! He'd promised….

Who? The Man In Black, surely, and someone else as well. They had to be real, this had to be the truth; so many things depended on it…and these people were…important. Very important.

With one last step, he was within reach of the redheaded boy. He stuck out his nose to sniff at his arm…his scent was familiar and, especially, alive. He could sense his warmth, hear the beating of his heart. He looked deeply into the boy's eyes, and felt something melt inside him at his kind, friendly expression.

With unsteady steps, he headed for the girl. Like he'd done in his memories, he placed a paw on her arm, and when she leant in toward him, instead of fleeing, he placed another black paw on her face. The bracelet. Hermione. Alive…so, Dumbledore had been right.

He would've liked to wrap them in his arms, explain to them, but he couldn't; the mixed-up emotions in the cat's head kept him from doing so.

Jumping to the floor, he turned to face Snape, then meowed softly. He saw the wizard smile with what strongly resembled pride, as he lifted his wand.

A moment later, a brown-haired tornado grabbed him around the neck, while Ron clapped him enthusiastically on the shoulder.

"Not a moment too soon, mate. A bit longer and we were going to get out the cat food for you!"

Harry smiled at them, suddenly not knowing what to say. "I…thanks, Hermione, the bracelet…I'll explain it to you later. You're really here, aren't you? And this is really the Burrow… Oh, Merlin. I've been so stupid, haven't I?"

"Much to the contrary, Harry," Snape said gravely. "You've just shown proof of remarkable analytical abilities…for a cat, certainly, but not any less valuable. Excellent work. My congratulations, Mr. Potter."

The boy graced him with a smile. Snape felt his heart constrict at the sight of that radiant face. They'd done it, this time. Harry was going to heal; he was going to have his friends back again, as well as his life. He wouldn't need Snape any longer, and would gradually pull away as he regained his self-confidence, like any other teenager his age.

Harry needed someone to watch out for him, yes. But he no longer needed an adult in his life. Snape'd come along much too late for that.

He still seemed so fragile there, his sparkling eyes a bit lost, joking animatedly with his friends.

"Severus," a voice said softly at his side. "Would you like more tea?"

He pulled himself from his thoughts to turn to Molly Weasley, who was watching him kindly.

"Gladly, thank you."

After all, Harry had some catching up to do with his friends…but he still seemed a bit uncertain, a pained spark flashing in his eyes from time to time. No need to prolong this session for too long; Harry had already made considerable progress, so he didn't have to push things too much.

"You've done excellent work, Severus," Molly said gently as she served him another cup of tea, and then sat beside him.

"He won't be ready for the start of term," Snape replied. "We'll arrive in a few days, if all goes well. He's not had enough time to recover."

"After all that's happened, no one's expecting that he'll be entirely the same, that much is clear," Molly agreed. "But given the circumstances…I find him remarkably serene. Much of that because of you, Severus. It's obvious that Harry trusts you, cat or human."

Snape nodded as he took a mouthful of tea. As much as he appreciated that Molly had noticed, he all of a sudden felt very protective of his relationship with Harry. That was solely his business, really, and the boy's, of course. But Harry appeared to be discussing other subjects, laughing with his friends over Merlin only knew what silliness.

Obviously relieved, the youngest Weasley boy came toward them.

"Mum, can I tell Fred and George to come in? They have things to show Harry!"

Molly opened her mouth to reply, but Snape interrupted her. "I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley, but are going to have to go."

"Oh," Ron said disappointedly.

But seeing the gleam of relief that passed through Harry's eyes, Snape knew he'd made the right choice. Harry'd experienced enough emotion for today.

The boy said goodbye to his friends with a contrite smile.

"See you tomorrow, Harry!" Hermione said. "I suppose you'll be going directly to Hogwarts?"

"Um, I'm not sure…" Harry replied. He turned hesitantly toward Snape.

"We'll be a few days late. Not to worry, Miss Granger, you're soon be reunited with Harry."

Ron and Hermione nodded their heads regretfully.

"Well, see you later. Take care of yourself, mate," Ron said, with a furtive glance for Snape.

"Don't worry."

With that, Harry went, his steps sure and a happy smile on his face, to join Snape by the fireplace. Severus couldn't hold back the gesture that came to him spontaneously. Throwing a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace, he placed an arm around the boy's shoulders as they stepped calmly toward the grate.

And though he didn't miss the chorus of alarmed gasps behind him, Harry, on the other hand, let himself lean against the man, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

***

Home. They were home, Harry thought as he stepped into the laboratory. He liked the Burrow, and he'd been more than a bit relieved to see that it hadn't been destroyed, but this place…it was different.

He looked up to the professor, who'd reluctantly removed his arm from his shoulders.

"How do you feel?"

That question occurred often nowadays.

"Good. Thanks. Thanks…I mean, for everything. I'm still having trouble grasping it, but the fact of being able to see them and know they're alive.  It was really a relief. I think I was really apprehensive about seeing them again," he confessed.

"Nothing surprising about that," Snape agreed. "That confrontation was by necessity painful, especially in those circumstances. You really did well with it, Harry."
Then, a moment later, he added, "I'm proud of you."

Saying the words aloud had cost him, but he was rewarded when he saw the expression on Harry's face. Surprise at first, then a mixture of childish joy and intense relief, which lit up the boy's features.

There ensued a long, comfortable silence between them.

"I'm glad about not leaving tomorrow…" Harry finally murmured.

Snape nodded. "You'll need some time to be sure of mastering your transformations, and simply to be ready to go there."

"You're staying too?" Harry eagerly asked.

"A few days of rest won't do me harm. I'll still return, though, to visit the Slytherins after the Sorting Ceremony and have a look at them. If it doesn't bother you, you could wait for me in my office at Hogwarts."

Harry hesitated for an instant. "Could Ron and Hermione stay with me?"

Snape narrowed his eyes inquisitively. "So as not to be alone, or to ransack my office?"

Harry couldn’t help but laugh. And that was good, really good, he thought.

"Just so I can talk to them, Professor, really! Find out how the start of term went, and…what people are saying."

"About you?" Snape asked.

The boy nodded.

"Everyone will know, most likely. I think you suspect that already…" Severus said. "The newspapers have had it in the headlines since your disappearance, the day of your birthday. Harry Potter has disappeared, Harry Potter was taken by Voldemort…everything's been said, and then some, as usual. You'll hear more false rumors than actual facts, Harry. Don't forget that. People like to talk…"

"Is that why you don't want me to go back to Hogwarts right away?"

"In part," Snape admitted. "But that delay will create as many problems as it solves, though. Your friends and professors will have time to straighten out certain facts and dispel a few rumors, but your absence will spawn others. Nothing very amusing, in any case."

"And you? What have they said about you?"

Snape smiled somberly. "In the end, the Death Eater isn't one…or perhaps he is. Most people remain convinced that I worked for your loss. Only the sons of Death Eaters will be completely convinced of my innocence, or of my guilt, as it happens."

"And these are your students…" Harry murmured.

"Worse than that, these are my protégés. This year will probably be more difficult to manage than others, yes. But it's really not important. Never having to spy again is a huge compensation."

"Do they know that…that you're lodging me?" Harry asked, the implications of what Snape'd just told him becoming clearer and clearer.

"No, not at the moment," Snape answered, all the while staring at him with piecing eyes. "No one needs to know, Harry, so don't worry."

"That's not what I meant!" the boy protested. "I don't want…I mean, I'd like to stay in touch with you at Hogwarts, if that's all right with you, and I don't want to have to hide it."

It seemed to Harry that the Potions master's eyes became considerably warmer at these words.

"My door is always open, here as well as at Hogwarts," he said calmly and reassuringly.

Harry bit his lips. That wasn't exactly what he'd meant, but…it would have to do.

"I don't want to cause trouble for you either," Harry said at last.

"The only troubles that you'll most certainly cause me are the knowing looks that Dumbledore has already begun to send my way, and which risk spreading rapidly through the rest of the teaching staff. I think I can deal with that, however," Snape finished with a small sly smile.

"You…oh. I suppose I won't be spared that either. After five years spent insulting each other, it must look a bit strange to see us talking normally to each other," Harry said with a forced smile. "But I'll miss this place…the Manor, the laboratory especially. I really feel good here."

He sensed Snape tense at his words.

"You like the Manor?" he asked, as if he found the idea inconceivable.

Harry looked at him curiously. "Of course. It's peaceful, at least when Voldemot isn't trying to steal my powers. The park is huge, I like the view from my window and…I don't know. It's mostly the dungeon that I like." He shrugged. "It's the first place where I've ever felt at home, even if it was as a cat. But you can be sure I have no intention of marking my territory!"

Snape smiled at the joke, but Harry could tell that it was forced. Something in what he'd said had just upset the man.

"Your room, Harry, it will remain yours. Do what you like with it, change the décor, leave your things there, I won't meddle. Consider yourself at home."

The boy remained speechless, stunned.

"I can't accept, I mean, it's your home. I know very well that I'm not a cat, I simply meant…"

Snape stopped him with a hand. "Actually, Harry, this place belongs as much to you as to myself. I know you already have Grimmauld Place. Albus has perhaps not yet had the chance to tell you, but you've inherited all of Black's possessions. Be that as it may, whether you use it or not, that room will remain yours. I've enough empty rooms here; it will not cause a lack, believe me"

Harry shook his head. He wasn't sure he understood. Dumbledore had sent him a letter at the start of the summer, advising him that he was the legitimate owner of Grimmauld Place, but the house only held bad memories, and the shadow of a bitter and worn-out Sirius; he'd never thought to return there.

He'd never thought to return to the Manor after the hols either, but not for the same reasons.

"That won't put you out? I can do the cooking, you know, and everything you want me to…"

"I'd be glad to sample your cooking, but that's not necessary. You don't have to earn the right to come here. As I told you, this place belongs as much to you as to myself. More so, certainly…" Snape murmured.

Harry shook his head, dumbfounded. "I don't understand."

"Certainly not," Snape replied. "But it's truly beginning to get late; a good meal and night's sleep seem in order."

"And a shower," Harry added as he spied the state of his clothes.

Snape nodded. "Your list of school supplies is in my office; we'll make use of a trip to Diagon Alley to get them and buy you new clothing."

"That's perfect for wizarding robes, but I've never been able to find a single pair of decent jeans there…" Harry lamented.

"A trip to London as well, in that case," Snape said.

"You'll go with me?" Harry asked with a wide smile.

Snape rolled his eyes. "Yes, Potter, if I went to look for you in Voldemort's lair, I can indeed escort you to a few clothing shops, fashionable amongst Muggle teenagers, Merlin help me!"

Despite the memories, the boy couldn't help bursting into laughter. "Wait until you get there before you say that!" Then he continued, "Thanks, Professor. Really."

"Severus."

"Excuse me?" Harry said, disconcerted.

"If you are to regularly come to stay in your room, best remember that I have a first name. An offer good only in this territory, Potter!" the professor said with a dark look.

"I…er…yes, of course, Professor…Severus!"

The Potions master gave him a little smile. "Not so easy, was it? Use it as you like. Really, Harry, however you feel most at ease."

The boy nodded, clearly still shocked.

A room. Severus. Did that mean that he was really home? Not only within these walls, but at Snape's side, and even after they were back at Hogwarts?

While the professor was preparing a meal with a few quick incantations, Harry let himself be cradled by the idea. A home. A family. Not just someone, he corrected himself, but someone who'd take care of him, and who wanted him there…not because he pitied him, or for what Harry stood for, but for himself, he recalled, as he remembered the memories he'd seen in Snape's mind.

He felt a smile appear at his lips, but not just at his lips, in truth. His entire face was all of a sudden more relaxed, and his eyes smiled as well. It had to be contagious, for when Snape…Severus turned to him to hand him a plate, he also began to smile, his expression almost serene.

They ate in front of the fire, not speaking. It wasn't necessary, Harry thought with a yawn; they were comfortably settled in their armchairs, basking in the warmth, and after this long day, they savored the pleasure of simply feeling good.

Well, and in good company.  Harry closed his eyes for an instant to engrave this moment in his memory. The crackling and warmth of the fire made him drowsy, little by little, and he didn't feel his chin fall to his chest, nor when the plate that was taken carefully from his hands.

He still had a slight smile on his lips when Severus took off his glasses, and he didn't even awaken when the Potions master took him in his arms for the second time that day, and carried him to his room.

His room, yes, thought Severus as he pulled the curtains. Hopefully it wouldn't remain an empty shell, a vague souvenir of his stay, after the boy returned to Hogwarts.

Pulling up the coverlets, Snape idly moved a strand of hair from the boy's forehead. It seemed to him that the boy had pressed his forehand into his hand a bit; but he himself was exhausted just now. Placing a few potions on the bedside table, he left with soft steps.

"Good night, Harry," he murmured.

And he gently closed the door on the boy who was still smiling.