Harry didn't know where he was headed, but anywhere had to be better than staying on the patio and dealing with his irate professor. How stupid was he to think that Snape was in any way different then how he behaved at Hogwarts? Sure, he was different in how he looked and how he acted with his friends but with Harry it was all just the same.

Severus Snape loathed Harry Potter and nothing, short of an absolute miracle, would  ever change that.

And to add to it, the memory of his Godfather's demise that he had repressed for the entirety of sixth year—and subsequently never properly dealt with –was now on the forefront of his mind. A horrible taunting of the instant of death played over and over as if he had only one channel that played only one show and no remote or power button to even think about turning it off.

Moreover, of course, Snape was right—he was always right!—this was Sirius and Harry's fault alone. Sirius had been reckless and Harry irresponsible. It was tough and bitter truth he had to swallow, but he knew it all along. He didn’t really know why he blamed the headmaster at all. Maybe because Sirus was dead and Harry couldn’t bear to shoulder the burden all by himself. It was too much, too painful. He felt as though the guilt would overwhelm him like he was some inexperienced swimmer in the Black Lake, unequipped to deal with the cold and the depths, slowly sinking to the bottom, with no one to save him in sight.

Down a small slope, Harry happened upon a hammock tied between two trees. Bitterly, he lay on it, stretching width wise with his feet planted on the ground. Squeezing his eyes shut, he attempted to quell the tears that threatened to spill over and unconsciously, he moved his foot so he could gently rock back and forth. The motion was somewhat comforting.

This was so wrong! He shouldn't be here! He should be with his best friends, cruising down highways and eating cheap dinners at Denny's. Lying in a hammock at a house belonging to a friend of Snape's, trying not to cry, and once again fighting to suppress bad memories was not on his schedule of things to do that summer. Or ever, for that matter!

Adjusting his body so he was half lying on his side, Harry furiously wiped a few escaped tears.

"Hey."

Snapping up into a sitting position, Harry eyed Georgie as the man took a seat in the grass in front of him.

"Hi," the teen said quietly.

"This is one of my favorite spots out here. I put this hammock up right when I moved in, ‘bout 12 years ago I think."

"It's nice." Harry said quietly, wiping away the last bit of evidence of tears.

Georgie grinned and pulled out a handkerchief, "Here, better than a sleeve."

A small smile in thanks, Harry wiped his eyes. In the corner of the handkerchief was an emblem embroidered in black and orange. "What is that?" he asked.

"Harley Davidson." Georgie grinned, "Motorcycles. Only ones I ride. Took me years to get the perfect one, working crap Muggle jobs and saving money, had some beat up ones for the longest time. Now though, now I got myself a beauty. Severus built his from the ground up. Better with his hands than he is with his mouth, I'd say."

Harry nodded, "Yeah, well, that goes without saying..."

"Listen, Kid, I ain't ever seen Sev act like that before. He's complained, of course, about ‘Harry Bloody Potter,' but he never—I mean never!—ever spoke so ill of you. He's spat about your insane adventures, your ‘saving people' issue, and how you've got more brains than you know what to do with but you don't apply yourself, he's bitched and moaned like a pissed off hormonal  teenager, but he's never spoken like that. I don't know why...I've never seen him so...spiteful before."

"You obviously know a different Snape than I do."

"That so?" Georgie said, "How is he at Hogwarts?"

"A greasy git. Unfair, mean, cruel...he's such an arsehole! I'm sorry, I know that he’s a good friend of yours, but all he does at school is take points from houses other than his own and yell and scream at everyone not in Slytherin. I hate him! He hates me because of my FATHER. Not me, my dad! I never even KNEW my dad! He's a condescending, greasy prat!"

"Oh, no, Harry, tell me how you really feel?"

The tension lifted and Harry laughed softly, "And here I was thinking that this was going to be different: the jeans and the car, and you telling me that he has a motorcycle, and the beer and the hair and not being greasy but actually clean, I mean, what’s up with that?!...But of course I was wrong. I'm always wrong. Not Snape. He’s always right."

"For one thing, Harry, Severus isn’t fond of change, I assure you, but he showers regularly, it’s the potions fumes that do it. Second, well, he told me about your father and his friends. And it does bother me, what Sev went through. But they were also young and immature. And the same goes for Sev, he was young and immature. And in a way he should just get the hell over it."

Harry snorted, "He doesn't let go of things easily."

"No, you're right, he doesn't. But he's been through a lot Harry. A lot of betrayal and a lot of hurt. Though him ever admitting that he's really just a damaged young man will never happen." Pausing, Georgie gathered his thoughts. "Do you know why Severus joined the Death Eaters?" At seeing Harry shake his head, the older man continued. "Acceptance, Harry, just like any teenager wants. He wanted to belong. He was an outcast for so long that the idea of belonging to something was wonderful. And once that idea was set in his mind it was easy to make himself think he truly believed in what You-Know-Who was doing. Did you know, Harry, did you know that his best friend, his first friend, was your mother?"

Harry's mouth dropped, "What?"

Georgie nodded, "He never really believed in that pureblood shit. No, Lily was far too special to him. How could someone so sweet, wonderful, and smart be in the wrong? So what if she was Muggleborn?" Leaning forward, Georgie spoke firmly, "Severus Snape is a good man, Harry. But I will not, in any way, condone the behavior that he displayed before. But there are things that you need to know about him. Severus is scared of people knowing too much about him; he plays his cards very close to his chest. But you deserve to know, if anyone does, it's you. If Sev really does treat you badly at school, than you deserve to know why."

"But this has nothing to do with The Order or Voldemort."

Georgie choked, "Sorry, not used to hearing that name said so...plainly."

"Professor Dumbledore says that fearing a name inspires fear itself."

"And he's right, but it's still creepy.” He shuddered, “Listen, Harry, Sev needs to act like he does over the pond because he's a double agent. You know that, right?" Harry nodded, "And in being a spy he needs to keep up appearances. What you see at Hogwarts is not the real Sevvy. Though, he's not really helping that right now, with acting like he was at dinner. Georgie shot a disparaging look in the general vicinity of the picnic table.

"He doesn't hate you Harry. He becomes annoyed with you, but I think that is because he forgot what it's like to be a teenager."

"What's he really like?" Harry asked.

"Fun. Lots of fun. Sarcastic, badass, rule breaking, brilliant; he's a character all right!"

"How did you meet him?"

"After your mother and father were murdered reality and common sense snapped him back into the Light, he fled to America for a taste of freedom. He spent a few months in Azkaban and your Headmaster vouched for him and had him released. Anyway, he was rundown, hungry and sick and stumbled into a bar I used to work at. I fed him, gave him a place to stay and the rest, they say, is history."

"Why can he act differently here if Voldemort affects America as well?"

"Because Severus isn't as known here. Or he wasn't. It's complicated, but he, more or less, doesn't give a rat's ass. As far as people here know, he’s just Severus, one of Georgie’s mismatched family members. No one here knows that there's a leg of The Order here and You-Know-Who is flaming idiot in not monitoring the Americas. He's so content on Eurasia that we slip right through the cracks. There have been attacks and deaths, but only because he thinks that one attack will suppress us."

Harry was flabbergasted, "But that's ridiculous!"

"I know it is, and Sevvy knows it is, but You-Know-Who doesn't. He's cocky, Harry. He thinks his shit don't stink."

"And Snape takes that to his advantage?"

"Exactly."

"But why did he...before...?"

"I don't know. Severus Snape is a complicated man."

"I'll take that as a compliment, Georgie." Harry and Georgie looked up. Striding towards them, his hands deep in his pockets, was Snape.

"You better be here to apologize, Sev."

Snape nodded, "May I speak with Potter alone?"

"His name is Harry, and yes you may. And if I see one tear fall from his eyes, I'll break your fucking legs. Got it?"

“I see you collected another stray,” Snape said. When Georgie sent him a dark look, he hastily added, "I wouldn't put it past you."

Georgie nodded, "You better tell him everything." He stood and walked away. Hugging himself, Harry stared down at the grass. "Potter," Snape sighed, "Harry, I...I'm sorry. I over reacted before."

"The only reason you're saying that is because your friends are mad at you."

"Partially, yes, that holds some reason as to why I sought to find you. But the other, bigger part is that I am...sorry." Snape sat down in the exact spot Georgie was seated in before. Pulling up some of the grass, he ripped it into pieces.

"Wow, Severus Snape actually apologizing. We need to record this great moment in history."

Snape winced, "You have a sharp tongue, Mr. Potter, I never realized."

"You can't take points in the summer."

Agreeing, Snape said, "Come, walk with me."

Harry didn't see any other option than to join Snape as he stood. With a beckon of the head, the teen stepped to his side and they began their way further down the slope and to the banks of a stream. Harry stared down at his feet, stepping on a lone twig until is cracked in half and then kicking it clean into the water. He looked up at the Catskills in the distance, wishing he could apparate to the tippy top instead of being where he was and having this conversation with Snape.

There was a pregnant pause as they walked, each contemplating the other, trying to figure motives and sincerity. Harry quietly toed at the smooth stones at the base of the water. He was the first to speak up.

"You know, I'm well aware that it was my fault. I just don't need you of all people to shove it in my face."

"It wasn't your fault, not entirely anyway. There are many faults that are not accounted for in that...fiasco."

"No, it's my fault. And why would you even say that, now, after you blamed me before?"

Snape took his time in answering. "I was angry and I was wrong to be so. Minerva constantly badgers with me with a truth that no one should ignore, though many have. You are sixteen, Mr. Potter. You are not twenty, thirty, firty, or otherwise. It is wrong for any of us to assume that you know exactly what to do. But we have assumed that. To dire consequences."

"I'm not a baby, I'm almost bloody 17." Harry said with a glare.

"No, you are not a baby. Though, you tend to act like a toddler at times."

"Oh," Harry began, his voice filled with sarcasm, "an insult, and here I was thinking that you were actually going to stop being a prat."

Snape waved his hand in circles, "Old habits, you know."

"I'm not arrogant, either. Nor spoiled or coddled or favored, or whatever it is that you think of me."

"I have never seen anything to the contrary, Mr. Potter. As they say, perception is often the reality."

Harry grunted, "You only see what you want to see, and you know it!"

"Then show me otherwise!"

"I thought you came down here to apologize, not to bloody antagonize me!"

Snape wheeled and faced him, "I have had enough of your language, Potter!"

"Why? Your friends curse enough for the two of us!"

"My friends have nothing to do with this, you insolent brat!"

"You judged me before you even knew me and you expect me to, what? To bow to your will? To be a quiet and weak little boy who will just take your insults? No! I won't! This is me! I'm not bloody Harry Potter! I'm Harry! Just Harry!"

"You are impossible! That's what you are!"

"DAMN RIGHT!" Harry yelled. His hands were on his hips and his face turned up towards Snape's in defiance.

Snape visibly relaxed, in a quieter voice he said, "Well, at least we agree on something."

"I want to know why. I want to know why you insist on treating me the way you do. And don't give me that spy crap. Or the excuse that you think I'm arrogant. Tell me the truth."

"Allow me to keep some secrets, Potter. I'm more than slightly aware that Georgie divulged quite a bit to you."

"Actually, he really didn't."

"He will, in which case I must ask of you to let me bask in secrecy a while longer. Georgie has a big mouth and a lot of notions as to what should be known and who should know it."

Harry looked up at his professor, once again noting that he was no closer to understanding the man than he was before. Georgie was more than just a little correct in saying that Snape was a complicated man. At least, for the moment, Harry and he had reached a truce.

When their walking brought them back up to the patio, they noticed that the others had pulled their chairs around a fire. Hermione, Ron and Jena were roasting marshmallows and Baylor and Lucy were eating theirs. Georgie nursed a beer and gave both Harry and Snape a quizzical look when they walked up. The sun had all but set in the sky, leaving the bright fire as their only light aside from the sliver of red seeping behind the Catskills.

Leaning back, Baylor grabbed a chair and plopped it next to him, "Here you go, Harry, prime spot between Ron and me!" Harry smiled and took his seat. He accepted a clean stick from Lucy and the bag of marshmallows from Ron. Snape watched the scene with an inward groan. His friends had taken the teen under their wings and would do anything to make sure that he was all right, even if that meant alienating one of their best friends.

Retrieving a chair for himself, Snape sat down in between Hermione and Georgie. He did not move to take a marshmallow or one of the sticks Georgie kept for such roasting, but instead grabbed another Bud from the cooler. Whatever conversation had been held before he and Harry joined was dropped.

Later, before the three teens could fall asleep in their chairs, Georgie ushered them inside and up the stairs to his guest room. Two full beds dressed in navy blue sat waiting for the tired teens. Ron and Harry slid into the one closest to the door and Hermione took the other. Snape had retrieved their pillows and bags from his car, and though the students took their pillows, they were too tired to change into pajamas. The light clicked off and they were left to sleep. 

When morning came, Hermione was, predictably, the first one awake. She giggled and wished for a camera when she spied her two friends practically cuddling on the other bed. She never took either one to be a cuddlier, but obviously, she was wrong. Ron, being bigger, had one arm over Harry and his chin resting on his head. Harry, for his part, was curled up and seemed to snuggle against Ron's chest.

Oh, this was brilliant! They would be mortified when they awoke.

Making her bed quickly and grabbing her bath supplies from her duffle, Hermione gave her friends one last grin before setting off down the hallway to find a bathroom.

After showering, brushing her teeth, and dressing in blue jeans and a red tank, Hermione made her way barefoot down the steps, tying her hair back as she went. She headed in the direction of the kitchen, taking note of the unpretentious home and its décor. Georgie seemed to favor simplicity in his black leather couches and modest end and coffee tables. Motorcycle memorabilia was scattered throughout, miniature models, autographed helmets, and even Harley Davidson mugs adorned the shelves. Peering closer to a shelf she was passing, Hermione grinned. Mixed photographs, both Muggle and Wizard, were framed and lining the shelves. Several held a smiling Snape. One showed him young, very young, but grinning on top of a motorcycle, the bike so big it looked as though it could overtake the future Potions Master. Another held a slightly older Snape standing behind a grill at a beach, in one hand was a spatula and in the other a beer. An attractive woman with long black hair had her arms around his waist, one hand, which the camera didn't catch, was suspiciously low on his abdomen.

The teen raised her eyebrows. Snape in a romantic relationship just didn't seem normal!

Sometime that morning, Georgie must have turned the Air Conditioning off. The sliding glass doors to the patio were open and through the screened storm door, voices floated through and reached Hermione's ears.

"It's 4th of July weekend, Sev, nothing is open except for liquor stores and Wal-Mart! And anyway, where are they gonna go? You said it yourself: the car is done. They may as well stay here and come Monday we'll figure things out." Straining her ears, Hermione sought to figure whom the voice belonged to. It was male, so either Baylor or Georgie, but she wasn't familiar enough with them yet to be able to tell their voices apart without seeing them.

"This was supposed to be an adult weekend..." Snape said.

"So, what?" One of the women was speaking, "I'll just go pick up Marissa and Andy and Baylor can get Gina and Michelle, and we'll call the others and tell them to bring the kids. I didn't wanna leave my babies with the in-laws for the 4th anyway."

"No, this has been planned for weeks. I will take my students and we'll, I don't know, I'll figure something."

"Severus, honestly, just because you're British doesn't mean we don't want you here for Independence Day! Hell, we need a Brit so we can shove America's victory in their face!"

"That was charming, Lucy. Oh, how I do enjoy my time spent in the colonies."

Laughter erupted as a few playful insults were tossed between the friends. When quiet once more, Hermione heard Snape speak again, his voice so soft she could barely hear him. "You don't mind, any of you?"

"Not at all." Said a voice Hermione now knew as Lucy's.

The other female voice, Jena's, she deducted, said, "They're good kids, Sev, I like them."

"You bloody would! If you were from the UK and attended Hogwarts, no doubt you'd be Gryffindor!"

Jena laughed, "Oh, you poor Slytherin, surrounded by nasty Gryffindors! Whatever shall a snake like you do?"

"Maybe he should have been in Gryffindor!"

"Bite your tongue, Georgie!" Snape admonished at the older wizard's words.

"Don't get me started, Sevvy," Georgie continued, "If you were in Gryffindor then you would have unabashed bravery and then you could call Lizzie Grace up and tell her that you damn well love her!"

There was silence for a few moments and Hermione found herself wondering if that was the name of the woman in the photograph.

"That was low, Georgie."

"It's true. You let go of a good woman, Sev. No doubt about that. I don't care if you're thinking that it was mutual. You're the man and you're the one who should have gone after her! Chivalry should not be dead! So what if you took a position teaching at Hogwarts, you could have made it work!"

A chair scrapped the patio as someone stood. "She didn't want to leave America and I needed that job! I still do! Long distance relationships never work! We tried and we failed. 2 years of only seeing her on the weekends or in the summers, it was killing us!"

"That's bullshit, and you know it's bullshit! You're in love with her, Severus Snape, and she's in love with you!"

"This conversation is over!"

"Or, is it that you still feel guilty over Lily Potter!" a new voice chimed in.

Hermione gasped, her hand shooting up to cover her mouth, what, in the name of Merlin, did Harry's mother have to do with this?

"I would strongly advise you, Baylor McKean, to drop that line of thought NOW."

But it seemed Baylor didn't take to advice well, "It's true then, you feel guilty for falling in love with Lizzie when you reserved your-"

"ENOUGH!"

Feeling a larger argument, Hermione made her presence known in hopes that the topic would be dropped. She walked further down the hallway, "Professor Snape?"

"I'm on the patio, Ms. Granger, with a couple of meddlers."

Reaching the door, Hermione slid the screen open and stepped outside into the comfortable heat. The temperature had dropped from the upper 90's the day before to the lower 80’s. The morning was quiet and dewy and a slight breeze rustled the trees. Off  in the distance, a gentle mist hung over the mountains, graying the green trees and languidly creating a serene backdrop for the people on the patio.

Snape was standing at the edge of the patio, fuming, and the familiar scowl Hermione was so used to in potions class was laid across his face. He cooled his features, "Are you hungry, Hermione?" She nodded in confirmation. "We were thinking of getting breakfast at the diner up the road. Are the other two awake?"

"Not yet," she answered, "They're still asleep, and dare I say, cuddling." Her voice was teasing and ne eyebrow raised suggestively.

Lucy squealed, "Oh! I wanna see!" And she and Jena bolted from the chairs and ran inside, leaving a trail of laughter behind them.

Harry awoke feeling very comfortable and safe. Someone was holding him and their scent was familiar. He smiled; his eyes still closed, he snuggled closer to the warm body. A giggle above him retrieved him from his comfort and his eyes snapped over. Even without his glasses, the mess of red hair could only be one person.

"Bloody hell!" Lurching from Ron's arms, Harry jumped out of bed, tripped over the blankets, and fell, hard, onto his bottom. The giggling only became louder and he fumbled for his glasses and slipped them on. Jena and Lucy were in the doorway, bouncing with excitement.

"Oh!" Jena cooed, "You two are so cute!"

"Oi!" Harry cursed again at Ron's still sleeping form. "Get up! Up you idiot!" he said, hitting Ron's shoulder. "Stop laughing, you two! It's not that funny!"

"Aw, I love best friends, they're adorable."

"You know, they say male best friends usually end up falling in love with each other."

"Oh, I've heard that, Luce. It's so cute, it really is!"

"Stop!" Harry began to whine, "Please, I'm not bent, and neither is Ron! We just...It was cold or...something."

Lucy grinned, "Sure it was, hon." She winked, "Get showered and dressed, Hermione is already up and about, we're gonna go to the diner for breakfast. Get Big Red up too."

"Easier said than done." Harry mumbled. With a sigh, he began, once again, to try to rouse Ron, his face still very, very red.

When they were both showered and dressed in jeans and t-shirts, the adults rounded everyone up. It was decided that Baylor and Georgie would ride in Lucy's 1966 Mustang with Jena, and the kids would ride in Snape's Camaro, as the professor didn't trust Lucy's driving with his students.

When this was voiced, Ron gawked. "Are you serious? You don't trust HER driving? With the way you nearly killed us yesterday?!"

Snape only gave him a tainted smile, "Which only explains how much worse she is."

"Didn't think of that."

"No, I expect you didn't. Seatbelts!"

Not only did Ron buckled his seatbelt, but he grabbed onto the ‘oh shit' bar and hung on for dear life.

Dolly’s Diner was located in between O'Leary's Pub and Mitch's Bar; both having cars and bikes parked outside at 10:30 in the morning. Lucy, taking out her pink lipstick, smeared on a long line down the seat of one of the bikes parked outside O'Leary's.

"It's Bryon; he'll know it was me." She gave the bike a quick pat and headed into the diner.

"Blasphemy," Snape muttered at the defiled bike as he ushered the teens inside.

A short, plump woman with teased blonde hair and blue eye shadow was waiting to seat them. She had a pen behind her ear, a stained apron, and an old blue waitress' uniform. "Georgie boy!" She called out to the older wizard. He hugged her and grinned as she led them to his favorite booth in the back. Snape immediately started flipping through the jukebox, ignoring Baylor and Jena as they rearranged the tables to fit side by side with the booth so everyone could sit together. It looked as though it were a common enough occurrence that the waitress and the cook behind the counter didn’t even bat an eye.

Harry studied the menu in front of him, not sure what he was in the mood for. Snape leaned over to look at Harry's menu, "Dolly's Hungryman Breakfast is a good choice if you don't know what you want." He said, and punched in the tabs to play a song.

"That looks like so much food, though!"

"You can wrap the leftovers." Sliding in four more quarters, Snape left the music choice up to Lucy, who began punching in the numbers to her favorite songs.

"What else is good?"

Snape pondered for a minute. "The Farmer's Omelet is really good, but it doesn't come with cheese. You have to order that with it. Get provolone and Swiss if you do. Orange juice is fresh here and the meal comes with home fries and toast."

"Home fries?" Harry looked up at his professor in confusion.

"Fried potatoes with onions and maple syrup."

"Mm...That sounds good. I think I'll go for that."

"Orange juice?" The waitress asked. Harry had not even noticed her approach the table. He nodded.

She turned to Ron. "The Dolly’s Breakfast thingy."

Laughing, the waitress wrote on her notepad, "To drink?"

"Chocolate milk!" Ron grinned, than hastily added, “Uh, please, ma’am?”

Snape rolled his eyes at the redhead and ordered a Farmer's Omelet for himself as well with orange juice and black coffee which she brought over right away.

"I'm glad you two are getting along." Baylor said when the food came, "I thought Georgie was going to kill you, Sev."

Snape just shrugged and sipped his coffee and Baylor let the subject drop.

 Truthfully, the professor was completely confused by how Harry was acting. This wasn't the coddled, arrogant brat he was used to. If anything, aside from his outburst the day before, the Gryffindor was polite and respectful, even a twinge bit shy.

Ron, however, was a Weasley through and through, and though he wasn't as much of a nuisance as the twins, he was still without the brains to think before he spoke and he still was grating on Snape's nerves. The kid was chatting up Jena like he'd known her all his life. Of course, Jena often had that effect on people; it didn't mean Ron had to speak so loudly. He was, however, not monopolizing the conversation. Jena was doing that. Well. Maybe the Weasley boy wasn’t so bad. He talked less than Jena at any rate.

Shifting his thoughts, Snape contemplated Hermione. She was polite and Georgie seemed taken with her know-it-all knowledge. ‘He always did like people who were too smart for their own good,' mused Snape. But the witch hardly seemed as outspoken as she usually seemed to be in class. She listened intently to the others and only added in when she had something smart to add, which, though often, was rather welcome.

Perhaps he had been wrong to judge them as he had done so?

"So," Jena said sometime later with a wink, "you and Harry were comfy last night?"

"What do you mean?" Ron asked. Harry choked on a forkful of eggs, which only lead to Hermione and the two older witches to laugh loudly.

"Shut it!" Harry scolded, "Please!"

"Wait, what happened?"

Harry's face went red, "Nothing Ron! Nothing happened! Shut up and eat!"

The laughter from the girls had several people at other tables turning to stare at the group. Snape sat back and hid his wide smile behind the cream colored coffee mug. It wouldn’t do to rouse any more tempers, but, really, he couldn’t help but find it amusing. He was, however, a bit shocked to notice that he was actually enjoying the company the Golden Brats. Well then, it looked as though he was wrong about something after all. There was always a first time for everything, wasn’t there?

It was just after two when Harry began to feel ill. Baylor was grilling up leftover burgers and hotdogs on the grill for lunch and Harry had to wander inside the house as the smell was making him feel worse. He made his way up to the guest room and lay down on the bed, holding his stomach. Within a few minutes, Ron and Hermione were entering the room, their faces concerned.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, an entire question formed in that one word.

Harry sighed, "My stomach, I don't know why, I never get sick. I feel like I'm going to puke."

Ron sat on the bed and said, "Do you want me to get Snape or someone?"

Harry shook his head and curled tighter.

Hermione placed her hand on his forehead, "You feel a little warm and maybe you should say something to Snape. He could help; he probably has a potion for your stomach."

"I'll be fine," he said, more than a little used to dealing with these types of things on his own.

"Harry," Hermione began sternly, but was interrupted by a knock on the door. They didn't have to convince Harry to tell Snape after all, their professor stood in the doorway, his eyebrows raised in a silent question. "He doesn't feel well," Hermione told him. The potions master nodded and walked into the room.

"What's bothering you?" Snape's voice was surprisingly soft.

"My stomach," the teen relented quietly.

"I think he has a fever as well." Hermione said.

Ron moved to the end of the bed so Snape could look over Harry properly. He pulled out his wand and did a quick scan. "It looks like breakfast isn't sitting too well in you."

"'M'not used to greasy food I guess."

"No, most likely not. Hogwarts food is almost ridiculously healthy. How do you eat in the summers?"

Harry just shrugged, not really wanting to answer that. He shot a look at Hermione, who had opened her mouth to answer. She glared and said, "Honestly, Harry!"

Snape looked at the young witch, "Something you would like to share, Ms. Granger?"

"Yes, there is. But Harry..."

"...Thinks you should be quiet!" Harry finished for her, then groaned at the exertion.

"Oh, sure, Harry. I won't mention that the Dursleys practically starve you and Ron and I send you food so you won't die of malnutrition over the hols."

"Hermione! That's private!" Harry yelled, but the extra force only made him tense his stomach and he groaned and tightened his arms around himself.

Snape looked livid. "Weasley, Ms. Granger, out. Now." The softness was gone from his voice. The two teens shot Harry an apologizing look and vacated the room.

With a flick of his wand, Snape closed the door. "Harry, you will tell me exactly what she means. And it will be the truth or so help me, I may not be able to control my temper."

"What truth, Snape? The one where my relatives hate and starve me or the one where you believe I'm a pampered prince?"

"Watch your sharp tongue, Potter, do not test me!"

Harry swallowed and looked away. The last person he wanted to know his secrets was Snape, but the professor would not have silence, Harry felt his hand touch his chin and gently turn his head to face him again.

In the same soft voice he had used before, Snape said, "Already, you have altered my theories on you, Potter. Please, tell me the truth." A knot had formed inside the man's stomach. There was a thought, one he had pushed away ever since he met the Boy-Who-Lived, that had ate at his mind during the nights when school started its session after the holidays. He had seen how thin the boy looked as he walked into the Great Hall for the feast; he had seen how he devoured everything in sight as if he had not eaten since the farewell feast the semester before. But the thoughts that Harry was anything less than spoiled rotten while with his relatives were hard to vanquish. They made it easier for the potions professor to dislike the boy.

"Please, sir, don't make me tell." Harry’s voice was so little that Snape needed a moment to gather himself.

"Your reluctance is as good as a confession, Harry." Snape said sadly. "What else do they do to you? Aside from neglect you?"

"Please..." Harry's eyes were welling up ever so slightly. He hastily wiped away his tears, frustrated with himself for becoming so upset.

Snape nodded, as if this act was also a confession to him. He transfigured Harry's clothes into pajamas and helped him under the covers. "Rest for a bit, we'll see if your stomachache dissipates with a nap, if not, I'll see if I can find a potion to help you. And, for the rest of your time with me, I'll be monitoring your food intake to make sure you eat nothing that will upset your stomach even more.

Harry answered quietly, "Yes, sir."

"Try and sleep, Potter. For once, do as you're told." The young wizard was about to retort sarcastically when he noticed the mirth in Snape's eyes. His professor was only kidding with him.

"I'll try my hardest," Harry said with a grin.

Snape gifted him with the briefest of smiles before he stood and left the room, closing the door sympathetically behind him.