Harry coughed three times during breakfast the next morning. After the third cough, Severus laid down his fork and slipped his wand from his sleeve.

"Are you ill? Do you feel poorly?" He asked, frowning as he quickly ran through a basic diagnostic spell.

Harry shook his head. "No, sir. I feel all right."

"Well, you don't have a fever, but there is a little congestion in your chest. After breakfast, I'll fetch some pepperup potion for you." Severus sighed.

Yesterday had been chillier than was normal for this time of year, and windy too. Harry had only worn that thin T-shirt. He'd probably gotten chilled at first, and then warmed up quickly during the dueling practise, and had perhaps gotten chilled again as he cooled off.

And he had only just recovered from his lungs being badly burned. Poppy had warned him that Harry's lungs and immune system might be slightly weakened for a time and that he could catch cold easily. Severus should have at least made sure the boy had a jacket.

He felt a wave of guilt assault him. What kind of guardian or parent figure was he? He had so easily forgotten that they needed to be careful of Harry's health. Not to mention that it was entirely his fault that Harry had been injured in the first place.

"I'm sorry, sir." A quiet voice interrupted Severus' brooding and he looked over to see Harry watching him.

"For what?" He asked.

"For being so much trouble. But really, you don't have to bother. I'm fine. It was just a little cough," the boy said softly.

Apparently Harry had misunderstood his frown and sigh. Severus almost sighed again. How many times since Harry Potter had come into his life had they misunderstood each other? He felt an intense sorrow that their past had unfolded so, that he had wasted so many years stubbornly clinging to the false image of a spoiled and arrogant miniature James Potter instead of being willing to see the boy as a unique person in his own right.

But what was done was done. The important thing was to try to repair their relationship now, and right now he could clear up this misunderstanding.

"First of all, Harry, you are no trouble. If anything, you go out of your way to avoid causing the tiniest disturbance. Secondly, you do not ever have to apologise for being ill. Indeed, in this case, I should apologise to you. Yesterday was cool and windy, and it was the first time you exerted yourself since being injured. I should have had you wear a jacket, and we probably shouldn't have practised for quite so long."

Harry blinked and was silent for a minute, as if he weren't sure how to respond at first. Then he said, "That's all right, sir. I did start to get a jacket but I didn't think I would need one once we started working." He hesitated. "And I really enjoyed our lesson. You...you helped me a lot."

Now Severus wasn't sure how to respond. He finally settled for nodding and saying briskly, "Well, you need to take the pepperup potion this morning and we won't duel today. If your congestion has cleared up by tomorrow, we'll have another session then."

Harry looked disappointed. "But, sir, it's just a little cough. I'm not sick. Couldn't we please duel again today?"

Severus shook his head. "I know you're not actually sick, Harry, and I intend to keep you well. It's important to get this cleared up now and not let it develop into a cold or something even worse. Right now if you take a dose of pepperup and don't overexert yourself, then you should be completely well in a day or so. Tomorrow will be soon enough to resume our lessons."

Harry opened his mouth, then quickly closed it and bit his lip. He wasn't just disappointed, Severus realised then. Harry was actually worried.

"What is it, Harry?" He asked quietly.

Harry looked down at his plate. Severus had almost given up hoping for an answer when the boy spoke.

"It's just that I can't waste any more time. I have to be ready. I have to beat him next time." A shadow crossed Harry's face. "I can't let anyone else die because I was lazy and didn't work hard enough."

Severus couldn't bear the pain in his voice. He reached out and let his hand settle on the boy's shoulder.

"Harry, no one has died because of you."

Harry looked at him, the pain in his face temporarily replaced with sheer incredulity. Then he shook his head sharply and turned back to his plate. "Lots of people have died because of me."

"Harry, look at me." When Harry hesitated, Severus moved his hand to cup the child's chin and gently raised it so they were staring into one another's eyes.

"Harry, lots of people have died because of Voldemort, not because of you. You should take the blame or the credit for the things you choose to do or not do. But you are not responsible for the choices other people make."

Severus paused, wondering if he dared mention Black's death. He really wasn't sure if he and Harry were ready for this conversation. But Harry needed to hear it from someone and Severus was the only one available. He would just have to do the best he could.

He took a deep breath. "I presume you are mainly referring to our disastrous Occlumency lessons last year and to your godfather's death. Harry, you and I are both to blame for the Occlumency lessons failing. But it was more my fault than yours. I...allowed my misconceptions of you to interfere and I used the lessons as an excuse to hurt and humiliate you. I...do apologise for that."

"But Harry, you and I are not to blame for Sirius Black's death. Bellatrix LeStrange and Voldemort are. If you blame yourself, you're letting them off and they're the ones who are truly guilty. Do you understand?"

Slowly Harry nodded, looking almost dazed. Severus released his chin and they both quickly went back to eating. As they were finishing, Harry spoke again, so quietly that Severus almost didn't hear him.

"I'm sorry."

Severus looked at him with a mixture of concern, sorrow, and annoyance. Why did the child feel a need to apologise every five minutes?

"For what?" He repeated.

"For looking in your Pensieve. I really wasn't trying to snoop into your memories...not just to see personal stuff, I mean. I thought it would be something about Voldemort and no one would tell me anything last year, and..." Harry's voice trailed off.

"But I know it was wrong and I'm sorry," he finished awkwardly.

For a moment, Severus honestly wasn't sure how to respond. He felt a disconcerting mix of anger and embarrassment at the memory and for a second it almost got the better of him. But then he saw that Harry was looking at him and there was genuine fear in the child's green eyes.

And at once Severus was ashamed of himself. How many times had he wronged Harry? How many times had he misjudged him, sneered at him, punished him unfairly? And if Harry had violated his privacy by sneaking into the Pensieve, hadn't Severus done essentially the same thing in all those lessons when he'd attacked Harry's mind in the name of teaching? So how could he be angry now?

He reached over to touch Harry's shoulder again and was cut to the heart when Harry flinched at his touch.

"We've both wronged one another, but again I am more to blame than you," Severus told him. "I think it would best if we agreed to simply start over."

Without waiting for Harry's response, he abruptly stood and walked over to the fireplace. "I'll get the pepperup potion. Wait here."

After taking the medicine, Harry went back upstairs to his room, probably to continue studying, and Severus wandered to the library. He sat down at his desk and picked up a quill. He'd been neglecting his journal lately, but ever since Harry had been injured, he'd felt guilty when writing in it and after scribbling out a brief uneventful entry, Severus set the quill down and closed the journal's cover.

He started to take his wand and Accio some more books on Defense Against the Dark Arts, but just then the Floo came to life and Albus' face hovered in the fireplace.

"Severus? May I come over for a few minutes?"

"Of course, Albus."

The headmaster came through, looking very satisfied. "I'll only stay a moment, but I did want to tell you and Harry that I've contacted the Jordans and the Kincades, and both families are furious with Dolores Umbridge and the Ministry. They can't wait to file charges against Umbridge and possibly Fudge too, for giving her so much authority. I think it's safe to say that our friends at the Ministry will soon be unemployed and that Umbridge at least is almost certain to spend some time in Azkaban."

"Azkaban's too good for her," Severus growled.

"Well, I do agree with you on that, but Azkaban is no picnic," Albus commented.

"Well, if Fudge is forced out, I only hope his successor will be slightly more intelligent." Severus considered some of the top Ministry officials, trying to decide which one was most likely to replace Fudge.

"One can always dream," Albus chuckled. He looked around. "Where is Harry?"

"He's upstairs in his room. He had a cough this morning so I decided to cancel our dueling lesson. Poppy said he could be prone to illness for a time," Severus added defensively.

"Of course, Severus," Albus nodded gravely, but his eyes were twinkling. Before the younger man could grow even more indignant though, he asked, "So everything is going well for you and Harry now?"

"I suppose that depends on what you mean by ‘well'," Severus replied. "Harry and I are getting along all right, I think. I admit that I'm finding him to be quite tolerable. But he's going through a difficult time. He grieves for his godfather and feels responsible for his death, and I think he is affected by this spell he's under as well."

Albus sighed. "Of course he is, poor child. I wish we could do more for him." He considered. "You know, Severus, perhaps we should think about telling Arthur and Molly Weasley about the slavery spell. They've raised seven fine children and they know Harry. Perhaps they could help us to figure out ways to help him."

At Severus' fierce glower, Albus shrugged. "Well, it was just an idea."

Severus scowled. He didn't know why he felt such an aversion to Albus' suggestion. It did make sense. But somehow the presumption that he couldn't help Harry and meet the child's needs bothered him. Hadn't he talked with Harry about Sirius Black just that very morning? Wasn't he making every effort to help Harry adjust to his situation?

Besides, the slavery spell needed to be kept secret and it just wouldn't be safe to let Arthur and Molly know. Oh, they wouldn't deliberately tell anyone, but those infernal children of theirs were consummate eavesdroppers and knew every trick in the book. For a fleeting instant, Severus had the extremely unsettling thought that perhaps the younger Weasleys would have done all right in Slytherin. Wouldn't that have been a nightmare! Severus resolutely pushed that thought away and decided again that it was much better to not involve the Weasley family.

He ignored the small voice that whispered that he was afraid because he knew Harry was fond of the Weasleys and he wanted Harry to like him more.

"What Harry needs is to be freed from this slavery spell. I don't suppose you've had any luck in finding a counter?" Even as he spoke the words, Severus felt a wave of fear, fear that Albus really might find a way to free Harry.

And then he felt the most intense shame and remorse that he'd ever felt, even more than when he'd turned from Voldemort. If he had any compassion for Harry, how could he possibly wish to keep the boy under the slavery spell? He was truly a horrible person.

But if Harry were free again, then he'd leave. He'd leave Prince Hall and he'd leave Severus.

And Severus couldn't face losing the child...his child, not now when he knew how much he cared.

When Albus said sadly, "No, Severus. I doubt I'll ever find a way to cancel the slavery spell." Severus had to turn away because he wasn't sure he could hide his mingled relief and guilt.

I'll make it up to you, Harry. You'll be happy here one day. I promise you will.

***

Harry was reading about human transfiguration when a knock on his door made him turn around to find Snape there.

"It occurred to me that since we can't duel today, perhaps we could finish that chess game instead," the professor slowly offered.

Harry hesitated. There was a part of him that just kept telling him that he needed to study and work hard and only concentrate on being prepared to face Voldemort again. He didn't have time to play.

But there was something about Snape, something about his stilted words and the guarded look in his eyes.... Somehow Harry knew that if he refused, it would hurt Snape even though he was sure the professor would hide it.

He didn't want to hurt Snape. As strange as that would have seemed at one time, it was true now. Besides, he'd been studying for a couple hours already and he could read more this afternoon. So he set his book aside and smiled. "All right. I'd like that."

They went across the hall to Snape's sitting room, Harry hesitating an instant at the doorway. It felt a little strange to come into Snape's personal rooms. But then he followed the professor in and they sat back down at the table with the chessboard atop it.

For a while they concentrated on their game, studying the board intently and concentrating on their moves. The only sound was the quiet murmur of their voices telling the pieces where to go.

Finally Harry looked up with a small smile. "Ron's chess pieces will talk to you," he said. "They always argue with me about where to go, although they don't do that as much as they used to. But these are awfully quiet. Can they talk?"

"Perhaps at one point they did. But these pieces used to belong to Jeremiah Prince and I imagine even chess pieces learned not to argue with him," Snape replied dryly.

Harry hesitated. "I'm surprised you didn't name the dummy ‘Jerry' or maybe ‘Jamie'."

For a moment he was afraid that he'd gone too far, that perhaps he'd angered Snape again, but then the professor snorted and Harry realised that he actually looked amused.

"So you caught on to that? Well, I might have been tempted to call it ‘Jerry' but my grandfather was still alive when I created it and I didn't want to do anything that would endanger my inheritance. I'd endured enough from him over the years. I'd earned some reward for it. As for calling it after James Potter...well, Harry, you might find it hard to believe, but my feelings for your father have never compared to what I feel for Tobias Snape and Jeremiah Prince."

The amusement had vanished to replaced by a haunted look. It was gone almost instantly and Snape was cool and collected again, but Harry knew it had been there and he remembered the small lonely little boy he'd glimpsed in Snape's memories once.

"Now that you're here, perhaps we'll create another one to be ‘Jerry'," Snape went on. He studied Harry. "Or perhaps you'd like to name it after the Dursleys?"

Harry ducked his head. "Maybe," he said softly.

He considered the chess board and then ordered a knight to a new position.

Snape shook his head. "Ah, your Gryffindor tendencies are coming out again. Not a wise move there, Harry."

Harry glanced over at him. "The Sorting Hat almost put me in Slytherin, did you know?"

Snape stared at him. "That's impossible."

Harry shook his head. "No, sir, it wanted to at first. It told me I could be great in Slytherin, but..." He stopped as he realised that Snape might be insulted at learning that Harry had deliberately chosen not to be in his House.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Well, obviously you convinced it otherwise. I'm curious as to why? Surely you hadn't been prejudiced against Slytherin at that early stage?"

"Well, actually I guess I had," Harry admitted. "I'd just heard about Voldemort killing my parents not long before, and that he'd been in Slytherin so I didn't want to go there because of that. And besides, Draco Malfoy had already been put in Slytherin, and he'd insulted Ron earlier."

Harry looked up at him. "You see, I met Ron and the other Weasleys at Platform 9 and Three Quarters, and they'd been nicer to me than anyone. Ron was my first real friend and Malfoy reminded me of my cousin Dudley a little bit, the way he was bullying people and being mean for no reason. So after he was placed in Slytherin, I really didn't want to be there. I was hoping to get away from kids like Dudley and his friends."

He shrugged. "I didn't know much about Gryffindor then. But I knew Ron was there, and I just wanted to stay with the first friend I'd ever had."

Snape slowly nodded. "That is understandable."

They played in silence again for a little while, but then Snape cleared his throat.

"Harry, it occurs to me that I've been calling you by your first name for a few days now...." He paused and though his face was carefully blank, Harry thought the professor was uncertain.

"Yes, sir?"

"Well, I thought that perhaps I should extend the same offer to you."

Now Harry was the one who was uncertain. Could Snape really mean what Harry thought he meant?

"Sir?"

Snape was definitely uncomfortable now. His expression didn't change, but somehow Harry knew he was. There was something in his eyes...

"I mean to say that you are welcome to call me by my given name if you should wish." Snape said in a low voice.

Harry was so stunned he didn't know how to respond.

After a long moment, the professor spoke again, sounding very awkward. "Of course if you are uncomfortable doing that, you may continue to call me ‘Sir' or ‘Professor'." Abruptly he stood. "It is almost time for lunch. We should go downstairs."

Snape started for the door. Harry gazed after him, feeling as if the world had turned upside down. He couldn't believe that Snape had just invited him to call him by his first name. But it seemed to mean a lot to Snape and just as he'd known that the professor had been uneasy at first, Harry knew Snape would be hurt if he refused. Snape wouldn't show it, but he would be hurt.

So Harry took a deep breath and said, "Sir? Do you really mean it?"

Snape nodded stiffly. "If you wish."

It did seem strange and alien, but Harry forced himself to say, "I'll try...Severus."

The professor's lips quirked upwards, and he motioned for Harry to join him. "Come along then, Harry."

Harry couldn't help feeling awkward and lost, as if he had stepped off a well-traveled path into the wilderness, but he felt himself smiling back as he followed Snape...Severus downstairs.