Despite his interrupted sleep the previous night, Severus still managed to awake at his usual time of six o'clock in the morning. He was accustomed to rising even earlier than that for classes at school, but he allowed himself an extra hour of sleep during the summer, lately his body was reminding him that it really needed that extra hour. He was relieved to find Harry still sleeping peacefully, and went to take a shower and dress, pondering if he should insist the boy share his nightmare with him, the way he'd done last time.

He had a feeling that this nightmare had been a bit different from the others, since before the dreams had spawned anxiety attacks, while this one had caused Harry to react more with grief than with utter terror, despite the bout of nausea at the end. Severus wished he knew more about adolescent psychic trauma, but his field was Potions, not Child Psychology, though he resolved to check in the library and see if any of the manor's previous owners had purchased any books on the subject. He suspected there might be some, for the manor's heirs were well read and more than one had come to live here after living in Muggle society.

Still, Severus knew that some of the best therapy was to simply speak about what you feared or what was bothering you, the very act of doing so released a great deal of suppressed tension, and that release was something Harry badly needed, not just in the aftermath of a nightmare, either, but as a conscious choice. He would try and encourage his son to share his feelings and hopefully Harry would agree, but otherwise Severus would not push him just yet. He wanted Harry to come to him, not for him to force his son into revealing things that were both private and painful, invading the boy's mind with Legilimancy or Veritaserum.

Severus was himself a deeply private person and revealed his past and his heart to very few, but of those few, one of them had been Lily and the other had been Harry. Draco knew some of his past, but he had not dared reveal much, for fear it would somehow get back to Lucius. Not that Draco would have willingly betrayed him, but Lucius had no qualms about using harsh methods on his offspring to get information, and Severus had dared not risk it. Now, however, was a different story.

When he emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a casual gray top, black trousers and soft black loafers, he found Harry still slumbering, sleeping the sleep of the exhausted, and he left him there and went to wake Draco to help him make breakfast.

Draco, who as Severus knew very well, was the king of complainers and sleep-loving teenagers, did not take to being woken up at seven o'clock well at all. He turned his face away when Severus shook him and called him, burying his head under the pillow.

"Mmm . . .ten more minutes . . .I'm too tired to get up now, Uncle Sev. Have mercy."

"Draco, get up now. You have a whole day's worth of chores to complete and the sooner you wake up the sooner you can finish them and have a lie-down afterwards."

The sulky boy muttered something about evil Potions Masters and sadistic godfathers into the pillow and refused to move until Severus yanked the covers off him ruthlessly and said silkily, "I'm going to give you to a count of ten to get up on your own, before I conjure up a Snape Special just for you, my rebellious godson."

Draco groaned. "Aww, come on, Uncle Sev! It's no fair! I barely got any sleep last night thanks to Harry and now you want me up at the crack of dawn. What is this, the bleeding army?" He threw a hand over his face and tried to snatch the covers back over his head, but Severus was having none of that, and began counting loudly.

Draco heard the warning in Snape's tone, and he sighed and forced his eyes open. Hurry, before he conjures that damn bucket of water, he urged himself and sluggishly sat up and glared at his foster father. "You are evil."

"And you are whining," Severus countered. "Come along, Dragon. It's your turn to help me make breakfast today."

"How come?" Draco grumbled, rising to his feet. "Harry knows how to cook better than I can."

"Which is why you are going to help me this morning, so you can learn how to cook something besides tea and toast. It isn't all that hard, you're smart enough to pick up the basics in no time, if you apply yourself."

Draco scowled when Severus's back was turned. "Yeah, and what if I don't want to apply myself?" he mumbled under his breath.

"Excuse me?" Snape spun around and fixed the blond wizard with a sharp glower.

"Nothing . . .sir," Draco replied sulkily. "Where's Harry?"

"Asleep." Severus answered shortly and headed into the kitchen.

Lucius's son dragged his feet, but he followed, thinking resentfully how unfair it was for him to be dragged out of bed at this unGodly hour of the morning when it was Harry's fault he hadn't gotten enough sleep last night, and made to help with breakfast. His godfather was a mean old serpent and it was clear he favored his blood offspring over his ward, otherwise Harry would be awake too, nightmare or no nightmare. Bleeding little coddled baby! Guess that old saying really IS true-blood is thicker than water.

Severus supervised while Draco mixed up pancake batter and fried some ham steaks and scrambled up some eggs. The cooking wasn't hard, it was the timing that was a pain, but Severus made sure he watched the clock closely, so his godson wouldn't burn everything to a crisp.

By the time the pancakes and ham were done, Harry had awakened and come into the kitchen. He had never felt less like getting out of bed or sitting down to breakfast, but he forced himself to do so, otherwise he knew his father would come and get him, and Harry didn't want Severus to think he was any more of a little baby than he already did, after last night.

He suppressed a wince as he recalled sobbing hysterically and clinging to his father, just as if he had been a little six-year-old. He felt his cheekbones flush a brilliant scarlet and shame and embarrassment swept through him in waves. God, he'd gone to pieces in front of Severus and Draco, of all people. They must think he was the biggest crybaby to ever walk the earth, nothing but an overdramatic whimpering little girl. He lowered his head to stare at the wood grain in the table, not looking up even when Draco floated the plates onto the table and Severus set a glass of pomegranate juice in front of him, and a plate with some toast, eggs, ham, and a single pancake as well.

"Harry, I think it would be good if you ate a little," said his father quietly.

"Yes, sir," responded his son in a low monotone, his eyes glued to the table.

There followed an awkward silence, with none of them knowing just what to say and so they said nothing, concentrating on eating.

Draco was unsure how to feel towards Harry after the events of last night. A part of him felt sorry for the other boy, but another part, the selfish part, resented Harry for getting all of Severus's attention, which previously had been reserved for him alone. The pampered only child of rich parents, Draco was unaccustomed to sharing the attention of his friends and family, and the sting of envy was prodding him sharply, overriding the compassion and empathy he'd felt for Harry last night.

He stabbed his fork into his pancake, imagining it were Harry's privileged arse, and ate, and even in his grumpy state he had to admit that the pancake was quite good. Perhaps Severus was right, and he could learn to cook.

Harry picked at his food, unable to look at either Draco or Severus, embarrassment making his breakfast taste like sawdust. He carefully sipped his juice, nibbling half-heartedly at his toast and ham, praying his stomach would allow the little he'd eaten to remain where it was. Luckily, his anxiety was not as acute as it had been last night, and he managed to get through breakfast without puking.

Severus noted his son wasn't eating, but decided not to press the issue, Harry was undernourished, true, but one peckish meal wasn't going to kill him. Perhaps the boy's appetite would return later on in the afternoon, after a spate of chores. He had to start brewing the Dreamless Sleep potion, it would take almost the whole day to make an entire batch, and it was not the sort of elixir that shortcuts could be taken with. For an instant, he considered asking Harry to accompany him, that way he might coax the boy to open up about his nightmare, but then he rejected that idea. Dreamless Sleep was a master level elixir, and while Severus had made it countless times before, he couldn't afford to let himself be distracted while brewing it, and listening to his son would most definitely be distracting and he feared he wouldn't be able to concentrate and ruin the whole batch.

That would be one mistake he couldn't afford, Harry needed that potion badly, and Severus was the only one who could brew it. He didn't think they could endure another night like the last one. Finishing the last of his ham, the professor cleared his throat and announced, "I'll be going into my lab to brew a batch of Dreamless Sleep and need no interruptions for two hours, after that you may come and speak with me, if you have any questions regarding your chores for today. I've posted a revised list upon the wall, but this morning I want you to forgo working outside and remain in the mansion, cleaning the kitchen and the back parlor. And when I say clean, boys, I mean from top to bottom, no shoving things under the sofa or sweeping dirt under the rug."

Harry just nodded, not up to giving Severus an argument about cleaning a room none of them had ever used and probably never would. The back parlor was the sort of room a woman used to entertain her friends with tea and crumpets and a hand of canasta. It had flowery wallpaper and a rose print Oriental-style rug, and Victorian couches and tables. It was the sort of room that Harry was sure Aunt Petunia would love. It was also incredibly dusty and dirty, since it hadn't been cleaned in years.

Naturally, Draco protested. "Uncle Sev, why should we clean a room we never use? Who cares if it's dirty, nobody ever goes in it. That's just like giving us busy work."

Severus favored his godson with a slight smirk. "That's the idea, Draco. To keep you two so busy you stay out of trouble for a good long time. The kitchen and the parlor should keep you busy until the first two hours of brewing are up, if not more. Now, no more arguments, just do as your told."

That said, he rose to his feet and Apparated to his lab, where he could begin to brew the precious elixir.

Draco heaved a martyred sigh and grumbled, "Clean the kitchen, clean the parlor, clean the whole freaking manor while you're at it. Merlin's balls, Uncle Sev, I never knew that when I came to live with you, I'd become Dobby."

He pointed his wand, and the dishes levitated themselves into the sink.

"I'll wash, you put away," he instructed his uncommunicative cousin, who merely shook his head in silent agreement.

Draco began washing, and since there wasn't much to wash, was soon finished, and then the two moved on to the sweeping the floor and running a wet mop over it. That had been done just yesterday, so the floor was not truly dirty, and in fifteen minutes the kitchen was its usual pristine self, according to Snape's exacting standards.

All this time, Harry had not spoken one word to Draco, but he cleaned as directed, preferring to let the Slytherin call the shots for now. He followed the other down the east wing to the back parlor, which smelled musty and stale from disuse.

"Ugh! Trust Uncle Sev to give us one of the dirtiest rooms in the bloody place to clean." Draco looked about the room in dismay. A foot or two of dust lay thickly over everything and the air was thick with it. "How the hell does he expect us to clean this room in two hours? It's bloody impossible."

"He never said we had to have it done in two hours," Harry spoke up at last. "He just said he'd be done with the first part of the Dreamless Sleep

by then."

"How mighty nice of him," the Slytherin sneered. "Because it's going to take us all day to get this blasted room the way Mr. Perfectionist Severus Snape wants it."

Harry shrugged. Personally, he found this task no worse or better than what he had to do at the Dursleys, save for the fact that he never need fear Severus taking a belt to him for not completing a task. He rolled up his sleeves and picked up a duster and some furniture polish that Draco had summoned from the supply closet.

Draco found Harry's silence and apparent compliance very annoying. He liked it better when Harry was arguing with him, at least then it was interesting, not dull as a tomb. "Guess this sort of thing must be old hat to you, right, Snape? Those Muggle relatives didn't have servants, did they?"

Harry scrubbed the dirt off a small endtable. "No."

"That's right. They didn't much need one with you there, did they? Having you clean was probably cheaper and more efficient, you worked for free and were available any time. Like Dobby."

Recalling the poor mistreated house elf roused Harry from his apathy somewhat. "Yeah, like Dobby, who you beat and tortured for years, Draco. Proud of yourself, are you?"

"Hey, I never asked to have a house elf bound to me, that's how it's done in pureblood families. And for your information, Mr. High-and-Mighty, I never touched Dobby."

"You didn't need to, you conditioned him to punish himself when he disobeyed or spoke against you."

"That's the way the bond works, I had nothing to do with it." Draco pointed out. "A house elf is bound to never harm or speak ill of his family. It's been that way since. . .I dunno . . .centuries or something. It's a safeguard, since house elves have some powerful natural magic."

"If you treated them decently, instead of like slaves, maybe you wouldn't need the bond." Harry declared.

"Humph! You don't understand the way they think. A house elf wants to be bound to a family. If they aren't, they're miserable. They like serving us, ask any of them."

"I don't believe it. No one likes being a slave."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Guess you'd know, wouldn't you?"

Harry felt his face heat up at the other's sneering tone. Yet another thing he had to live down. "What of it? Just because you were born to a rich bastard doesn't make you better than me."

"Doesn't it?" Draco taunted. "At least I know which end of a fork is which and not to chew with my mouth open."

Harry clamped his mouth shut and turned away, counting slowly to twenty. Ignore him, Harry. Just ignore him. He's trying to bait you, don't let him. He returned to dusting, carefully running the cloth and polish over the rosewood table and chairs.

"What's the matter, Snape? Cat got your tongue?" pressed Draco, waving the feather duster about vigorously, making the dust rise into the air and drift back down in a thousand little motes.

Harry continued cleaning, totally ignoring Draco.

"Ah, the silent treatment. Funny, you weren't so quiet last night . . . woke me right up with your screaming and moaning. They could probably hear you in Devon, I'll bet. What the hell were you dreaming about, anyhow? Getting disowned by Uncle Sev? No? Wait, I know! It was . . .getting a bad press review in the Prophet. Because your golden image would suffer oh so much if people knew the truth . . .that their hero was just a mere fourteen-year-old who-"

Harry never heard the rest of what Draco had been about to say, because he stormed out of the room, throwing down the dust cloth and polish in a rare fit of temper. He could not stand being in the same room any more with that insufferable brat, and he knew if he didn't leave, he was going to end up slamming Draco a good one. So in the interests of preserving harmony and his backside from his dad's firm hand, Harry left, slamming the door behind him with a resounding thud.

Five seconds later the door opened and Draco stuck his head out, bellowing, "Hey, where the hell are you going, Harry? Come back here and help me, you stupid prat! I'm not cleaning this whole damn room myself!"

Harry continued walking, his jaw clenched and his back stiff with indignation. He pretended not to hear Draco's shouts and went into his new room and flung himself down on his bed, angry and unhappy, shame curdling his stomach as he thought of the nightmare he'd had, some ridiculous dream about Vernon becoming a dementor along with Dudley and trying to suck out his soul. Goddamn nightmares! He thought furiously. And Goddamn Draco too, for acting like a supercilious snot when he knew nothing at all about what it was like to live the first thirteen years of your life as a virtual slave to people who despised you. Or at least, Uncle Vernon had despised him, Harry amended. Petunia had only been playing a part, mostly. And Dudley was a fat copycat, doing whatever his git of a father had.

Thinking of Dudley made him recall the nightmare, and he shivered recalling his cousin's accusing voice. "It's all your fault my father's dead! YOU killed him!"

Only he hadn't. Spite and malice had killed Vernon, Harry had been innocent. He shut Dudley's voice from him and turned over on his bed, burying his face in the pillow and wishing he could go to sleep and never wake up, lose himself in dreams, where his mother was alive and they were a real family. For that, Harry admitted to himself, was what he had always wanted, and it was the one thing he feared he would never have, especially now. For what man would want to claim him as his son, a whimpering scaredycat baby who let nightmares master him? Pretty soon he was sure Severus would get sick of him and send him away, and then Draco would be his son, his perfect Slytherin son, Harry thought bitterly, slamming his fist down on the pillow.

* * * * * *

Draco fumed and moped, waiting for Harry to return after he'd gotten over his snit. But when twenty-five minutes had passed and still there was no sign of the dark-haired wizard, Draco threw down his duster and swore colorfully. How dare Harry go off and leave him with all the work? Who did he think he was, the lord of the manor?

Just then the door to the parlor opened and Draco leaped to his feet, ready to lay into Harry for running out on him. But instead Severus entered, and frowned in disapproval when he saw the little Draco had accomplished. "This is all you've gotten done? What have you been doing, dusting an inch every ten minutes?"

Draco felt a hot flush cover the back of his neck at Snape's sarcastic tone. "It wasn't my fault! I've been cleaning in here for twenty-five minutes by myself because Harry left."

"Left?"

"Yeah, he decided he wasn't going to clean any more and he left." Draco said, not mentioning that his smart mouth might have had something to do with it.

Severus's mouth tightened. "I'll go speak with him. Where is he?"

"Uh . . .in our room, I guess," answered Draco.

Severus strode out of the door, black robes rustling angrily, calling over his shoulder, "Don't dawdle, Mr. Malfoy, keep working!"

Draco groaned and picked up his abandoned duster. Evil old dungeon crawler!

Severus found Harry lying on his bed, still wrestling with his shame and anguish. At first, the Potions Master was prepared to lecture the boy severely for skipping out on his chores, but one look at Harry's woebegone emerald eyes convinced him to rein in his temper. Clearly whatever demons Harry had fought last night were still with him.

So Severus merely asked, "Harry, why are you in here and not doing your chores like I asked?"

Harry jerked up at the sound of his father's voice, he hadn't even heard Severus come in, the man moved like a phantom. "Do I have to answer that?"

"You do unless you want me to assume you're shirking your work deliberately, in which case I'll have no choice but to punish you further for your disobedience." Severus informed him.

His words struck a chord of anger inside the teen and Harry sat up and cried, "Yes, that's right, punish me and not him! After all, he's the one you want, the Slytherin prince, you chose him as your ward. Why don't you go and ask him why I'm here, Dad?"

"I did. He told me you left and refused to work with him."

"Damn straight I did. I had to, otherwise I would've shoved his perfect teeth down his throat." Harry said defensively.

"Why?"

Harry turned his head away. "What difference does it make?"

"Harry, I can't help you unless you talk to me. I understand that you're upset and embarrassed over last night, perhaps you would like to tell me about that, since I think it might have something to do with your current situation with Draco?" Severus urged. Come on, son, talk to me, dammit! Let me help you.

For long moments, Harry was silent.

Severus sat down and waited patiently.

At last, he said, softly and without looking at his father, "Promise you won't laugh at me? Or think I'm some stupid little crybaby?"

"I promise. What's happening to you is no laughing matter, Harry. These nightmares and anxiety attacks you're having are indications of some deep wound inside of you, son, and you need to talk about them before you become depressed or worse. If you don't feel comfortable talking with me, perhaps I can arrange something with a therapist."

"No! I don't need a shrink, Dad. I'm not crazy. I'm just . . ." he swallowed hard, fighting back the sudden tears that threatened. At last he managed to say, "I'm just afraid that . . .I'm going to be alone . . .without a family. See, that was what I dreamed last night . . .the dementors surrounded me and then they took off their hoods and . . .I saw their faces . . ."

"What did they look like?"

"One was . . .was Voldemort. I saw him kill Mum. The other was Uncle Vernon . . .and Dudley . . .and James . . .he said I'd betrayed him, and Dudley said I'd killed his father, and Uncle Vernon said I would die alone and he tried to Kiss me. . . I called for help, but you weren't there, and I was alone . . .alone in the dark." He trailed off into a hoarse whisper, shutting his eyes.

"Harry, what do you mean James said you betrayed him? Did you mean perhaps that Lily betrayed him?"

"No. He said I betrayed him. Because I chose you over him."

"Ah. Do you feel that me being your father is a betrayal of James's affection for you?"

Harry shook his head rapidly. "No! I . . .I don't even remember him. I want you as my father. . .that's the problem. I want you to be there for me and I'm afraid . . .afraid . . ."

"Afraid of what? That I will leave you?"

"That and . . . that you don't want me."

"Why would you think that? You're my son, of course I want you."

"Even though I'm a screwed up mess? And now you have Draco?" Harry asked plaintively.

"Harry, you have some issues to resolve, but you certainly are not . . . a screwed up mess, as you put it. I will never abandon you, never leave you alone, I will do my best to be there for you always. As for Draco, he is my foster son, and there is nothing wrong with a man having two sons, because I love you both the same."

"Will you swear it?"

"I give you my wizard's oath, Harry Albus Snape, that I love you and Draco equally." Severus answered immediately.

Harry gazed into his father's dark eyes and saw that it was true. He had not lost his father's love at all. It had always been there. He turned away to hide the tears of relief gathering in his eyes.

An instant later, he felt a lean hand clasp his shoulder gently. "All right, son?"

He nodded, sniffling sharply.

Severus cautiously put an arm about him and Harry leaned into his shoulder, hot tears falling on the black clad shoulder for a few brief minutes. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to act like a crybaby."

"You've no need to apologize, Harry. There is no shame in tears. Your mother taught me that," murmured the professor in his son's ear. He stroked Harry's hair until he felt his son relax. They remained like that for several moments, and then his son drew away. Severus returned to the previous issue he'd come to discuss in the first place. "Now then, what happened this afternoon with Draco?"

Harry flushed, then said gamely, "He started making remarks about stuff and I got mad. I tried to ignore him like you said, but I just couldn't after awhile, so I left. I figured it was better to leave then knock his teeth in and end up getting my bum tanned by you."

"I see. You did the right thing, and acted maturely." Severus praised. "However, you are still under punishment and must finish your chores. I will speak with Draco while you return to the parlor and finish cleaning."

"Okay, Dad." Harry agreed.

Harry returned to the parlor with Severus, which was not even halfway done, though Draco had made some headway at least. The other looked up from where he was scrubbing out the fireplace and fought back a triumphant grin when he saw Harry walk in with Severus behind him. He wondered if Severus had read Harry the riot act about skiving off like that.

But his smile died when Severus gave him an angry glower and said, "Draco, a word with you. Right now."

"What for?"

"You know very well what for, young man. Come."

Draco followed Severus out of the dusty parlor, brushing the dust off himself as he did so. Severus waited until they had reached the boys' room before he began scolding him for taunting Harry.

Draco flushed, knowing he deserved the lecture, but still angry and resentful. "You always take his side, Uncle Sev!" he accused. "Is it because he's your real son and I'm not? Blood's thicker than water, huh? Guess I shouldn't be surprised. You always favor your own."

"Draco, I do not favor Harry."

"You do too. He got to sleep in while you dragged me out of bed early in the morning. He goes skiving off and leaves me with all the work and you let him go and yell at me. How is that fair?"

"Draco, you and I both know that you started today's quarrel, so don't try and act like you're innocent. What you said to Harry was provocative and inappropriate. Are you trying to get in more trouble, Mr. Malfoy? I would've thought after yesterday, you would be walking on eggshells, and instead I find you running your mouth off at Harry."

"Yesterday, he started with me and you didn't lecture him like this," Draco pointed out. "How come?"

"I did worse, I took away his broom."

"So? You took away mine too and you don't seem to mind half as much, because you feel sorrier for him."

"Draco, don't be ridiculous. I don't like having to punish either of you, but my punishment was deserved and there's an end to it. You brought it upon yourselves and now you pay the consequences." Severus sighed, recognizing the same vulnerability and resentment in Draco as he did in Harry. "I will tell you now what I told Harry. There is no need for you to feel that I will suddenly stop loving you, simply because I now have another son. Other parents have more than one child and they love each one equally."

"That's what they all say, but nobody ever means it. You always love your children by blood better than the ones by adoption or marriage. My dad told me that."

Severus sighed. "Draco, your father is a pureblooded, racist, nasty SOB and he doesn't know anything about raising children. I'd hardly use him as an example. You yourself know that he cares for only one person, and that person is himself. A selfish cold heart doesn't know how to share anything, whether it's love or money."

"I know, but . . .he's part of you and. . ."

"Draco, you've known me since you could talk. Nothing and no one could ever replace you, dragonet. Harry may be my son by blood, but you are my son by choice and I love you just as much."

Draco gazed at him uncertainly, until Severus walked over and pulled him into a brief hug. Draco relaxed against him, breathing in the familiar scents of herbs and spices that was the Potion Master's unique scent. He should have known better than to believe Lucius, he knew how the man lied and twisted things to suit his own ends, and he hadn't liked the idea that Draco was beginning to prefer his godfather over himself.

"I always wanted you for my father," he muttered into Severus's robes.

"I know. And now you have me, so you should be satisfied, not resentful and jealous." Severus patted Draco much as he had Harry.

After a long moment, Draco pulled away, and Severus said, with a touch of sternness, "However, that's no excuse for your behavior, and now you've earned yourself more chores and an afternoon pickling rat spleens and toad ovaries."

"Yuck! Uncle Sev, that's mean!"

"So was what you said to Harry. Next time think before you open your mouth and you'll save yourself a great deal of pain and regret. Now, you owe Harry another apology, and you can help him finish up the parlor as well."

"Yes, Uncle Sev."

Two minutes later, Draco was back alongside Harry, dusting, polishing, sweeping. He had apologized for his comments and Harry had also apologized for leaving for so long. Severus watched them cautiously for a moment more, then departed to finish stirring the new batch of Dreamless Sleep, which had about another hour left to steep. He hoped that his little talks with both boys had finally ended the cycle of resentment and fear and anger over him and had helped Harry come to terms with his fear of losing his family.

But if not, he would simply repeat the lesson, until his sons finally learned that he meant what he said, for a Snape always kept his word.