By the end of their first full week of holidays, Severus was so exhausted that he didn't trust himself to brew anything more complicated than a calming draft. He wasn't about to risk his Mastery by accidentally poisoning a child who needed a sleeping potion.

And speaking of children who needed a sleeping potion...if the fact that Harry kept rubbing at his eyes with his fist wasn't indication enough that he was over tired, that fact that he appeared moments away from toppling face first into his omelette certainly was.

If Snape being honest with himself, he knew he had put off speaking to the boy for too long already. At first he was able to justify it; likely the boy required a brief period of adjustment to his new circumstances that was all. But no signs of adjustment were forthcoming, and if he could not have a peaceful night’s sleep then he at least deserved to know the reason why.

Bracing himself, and then cursing himself for the need to do so, Severus set down his fork and turned his chair to face Harry more directly.

"We need to talk about your night time wanderings Harry."

A brief, almost unnoticeable pause occurred before Harry turned to respond. Severus suspected the child might soon come to regret choosing a spy for his parental figure, for that was a tell if ever he had seen one.

"My 'night time wanderings'? I don't know what you mean."

That he had not been expecting. Downplaying the issue, that would have been normal. But complete denial of any knowledge of waking in the night? He was certain the boy was conscious and lucid every time. He never spoke, but there was always the presence of strong emotion on Harry's face when Severus lead him back to his bedroom. No, he was quite certain the boy knew exactly what was going on.

"I am referring to the fact that you end up half-asleep outside my bedroom door every night about 3 a.m., and I would like to know what is going on."

"What are you talking about?"

"As I just explained --" he ground out at the continued denial, "I am talking about your habit of getting out of bed at night and sleeping outside my door."

The flush was rising on Harry's cheeks, and all pretence at breakfast was gone. This was not the way he had planned to cure their flagging energy.

"I'm not doing that Professor."

"Why are you lying to me?"

The shock at his question was easily read on Harry's face. "Just because I don't know what you're talking about doesn't mean I'm lying."

"That would be true if you honestly had no idea about what was going on, but I don't believe that to be the case. I think you very deliberately get out of bed every night to camp out in the hallway, and I'm curious as to why."

He had tried to keep his voice low and unthreatening, hoping the boy would respond more to his tone than his words. As he watched Harry's face contort with frustration and anger, Snape knew his efforts were unsuccessful.

He barely finished talking before Harry hollered back at him, "But I'm NOT! I'm not getting out of bed. I sleep all night!"

"Calm yourself. It's a simple inquiry. I am trying to get to the bottom of this problem, Harry."

"You don't understand! You're wrong!" Harry's colouring had cycled from red to pale and back again, and his breathing was becoming closer to hyperventilating, Severus noted with no small amount of alarm.

He stood and moved quickly towards the child. How had this situation gotten out of control so bloody rapidly? Predictably, Harry began to back away as his guardian approached, and Severus struggled not to curse at the reaction. At least not out loud.

"There's no need to panic. I'm not --"

"No! I stayed in bed. I didn't leave my cupboard, I didn't go anywhere, I swear!"

"Harry --"

Harry didn't hear him however, as that was the moment he slumped to the floor in a faint.

Severus managed to catch Harry before his head could hit the kitchen tiles, but only just. Letting loose a string of curse words, he lowered himself to the floor with Harry's head in his lap. He forewent the typical method of waking someone who fainted - slapping the boy would hurt him more than it would help him, particularly in his current state of mind.

Instead he took Harry by the shoulders, shaking him lightly. "Harry?" When there was no response Severus felt his heart leap into his throat. It was only instinct that allowed him to press his fingers to the boy’s throat, because the rest of his body was paralyzed.

They say that when you are faced with death, your life passes before your eyes. Snape knew that to be true. But as fear for the child in his arms threatened to topple him, it was not his own life he saw, but Harry’s. The all too short, all too miserable existence of one little boy passed by in a millisecond. A cold rush of knowledge followed: I am a terrible parent, and even an inadequate guardian. We were over the worst, things were supposed to be easy for us this summer!

“But things are never easy for us, are they Harry?”

And then just like that the coldness of doubt was erased, as Harry opened his eyes and asked one simple question:

“Dad?”

Severus almost laughed. “You know, one of us doesn’t have to have been unconscious for you to use that word.” Harry just blinked blearily at him, not getting the joke.

“You will be the death of me, child.”

Or the life of me.

*******

“I don’t need Madam Pomfrey!”

“Nonsense, you collapsed in the middle of the kitchen. It’s prudent to get you checked.”

“I’m *fine* really. I feel great.” To prove so, Harry sat up and moved to swing his legs over the side of the bed.

“Set one foot on the floor and you will live to regret it.”

Not wanting to test that statement, Harry settled back into the bed with a huff. Within moments he could hear the whoosh of the floo and the soft rumblings of his guardian’s voice. It was only minutes before he heard another whoosh, and he knew the healer had arrived.

“Well Mr. Potter, I hear you’ve given Professor Snape quite the fright just now. What seems to be the problem?”

Both man and boy found themselves frowning in annoyance at the witch, an act that seemed to bounce right off of her. She merely rolled her eyes and fixed them both with a stern look of her own.

“Regardless of biology you clearly share the same temper. Now quit sulking and tell me what happened.”

Severus chose to believe she wasn’t speaking to him, and it was just as well, as Harry chimed in with a mumbled answer.

“I, uh, fainted.”

“Hmm, well, let’s see, shall we?” And before even waiting for his go ahead she was whipping out her wand and waving it all over him. The action made him uncomfortable, but he did not draw back, a fact which gave him a small glow of pride. Slowly but surely he was getting somewhere. Maybe soon he would be just another normal boy.

“Well you’re okay, Mr. Potter.” Poppy said at last, interrupting his thoughts. “No lasting damage. You’re blood pressure’s a bit low, but it seems to be recovering. Now what, may I ask, were you doing when this happened?”

“We were having a discussion.” Snape informed her, with a glance at Harry.

“A discussion? That’s all? Well perhaps I ought to take another look --”

“A heated discussion!” Harry informed her hurriedly, before she could descend on him again.

“Ah,” Poppy replied in a knowing tone. “Were you yelling Mr. Potter?”

He felt himself blush as he responded. “Just a little.”

“He was also hyperventilating,” Severus cut in, causing Harry to shoot him a look of betrayal.

“Well, there it is then. He simply got overexcited. Lack of oxygen, drop in blood pressure. It’s all fairly textbook.”

“Textbook? For a boy to drop to the floor in the middle of an argument?”

“Well, it’s rarer at his age, granted. But it’s not entirely unusual for a toddler to faint in the middle of a tantrum. Same principle applies here.”

Severus, for his part, was relieved. Harry, on the other hand, was outraged. And embarrassed.

“I did. Not. Throw. A tantrum!”

“Of course not dear. But you’d best calm yourself lest it happen again. Get a few hours rest and you should be right as rain. If it happens again,” she directed at Snape, “floo me.”

And with that she was gone.

There was a long, excruciatingly uncomfortable silence between the two wizards. Harry kept his eyes on his hands, unable to face the professor. He found himself picking at the edges of his fingernails, pulling at the rough skin there. He had just stuck his thumb in his mouth to suck up the tiny rivulet of blood his nervous habit had produced when the familiar long pale fingers wrapped around his wrist, pulling it out.

“Stop that. Soon your hands will be nothing but a mass of festering scabs.”

Harry scowled again, for what felt like the ninetieth time that morning.

“You did not finish your breakfast.”

“Not hungry.”

“Nevertheless, you need to eat; your blood sugar could probably stand the boost. I shall return. And then we will talk.”

Shite but the man was persistent. “What if I faint again?”

Severus turned from his place in the doorway.

“You will not.”

Harry wasn’t sure if it was a reassurance or a command.

*********

The man returned far too quickly for Harry’s tastes, and as the footsteps approached his room he shut his eyes and sank back into the pillows.

“No one can fall asleep that quickly, unless you have fainted again, in which case I shall have to call Madame Promfrey again.”

“Ugh, fine!” Harry snapped, sitting up in bed. He didn’t want to eat and he didn’t want to talk. He just wanted everything to go back to normal.

“Here,” Severus thrust a bowl at him. “Eat this while we talk.”

“Porridge? Yuck! This stuff always tastes like glue!”

“If your only experience is that instant-sludge the muggles make, I expect you will be pleasantly surprised.” With that confident statement the man settled himself on the edge of Harry’s bed and watched him silently and patiently until Harry spooned a bit of the food into his mouth.

Snape was right. It tasted mildly of brown sugar and honey and milk.

“I will ask you again, not to be cruel, but because I need to know to be able to help you. Please tell me child, what is driving you out of bed at night?”

It’s like he purposefully hit all of my weak spots to get me to talk, Harry thought. But he couldn’t deny that such a strategy worked.

Twirling the spoon between his fingers, watching as his face distorted in the reflection with each flip of the utensil he finally whispered,

“You were late.”

“I assume you are speaking of King’s Cross. Yes, I was late. I do apologize for that Harry. I could tell you were bothered the instant I saw you.”

“I got scared.”

“I did not realize it still bothered you. You never said anything about it.”

“Neither did you!” Harry found himself yelling. Remembering the threat of Madame Pomfrey returning he tried to calm himself. “I didn’t know where you were. I was worried that maybe you’d gotten hurt again, or even killed.” He paused, swallowing past the lump in his throat with some difficulty. In for a penny, in for a pound. “I thought maybe you’d changed your mind, that you didn’t want me to live with you. Where were you?”

“I will show you were I was. Stay here, I will be back in a moment.”

When he did return (to Harry’s secret relief), Snape was not empty handed.

“I should have told you about this right away, and that was an oversight on my part. I was waiting for the right time, which never seemed to come.” With that he handed Harry the envelope in his hand.

The boy unfolded and examined it with a level of care and precision the professor couldn’t help but wish he’d give to his school work.

Finally he spoke.

“Certificate of Guardianship,” Harry read in an awed voice. “You got guardianship of me?”

“I did. That’s where I was. Securing the consent of your relatives and visiting the Ministry.”

Harry’s eyes dropped to the bottom of the paper, and Severus could see his hands begin to tremble.

“Harry?”

Watery eyes met his own. “It’s not that I’m not grateful, and that I don’t want this so so much. It’s just that I thought, I mean, I thought maybe--”

“You thought?” He prompted.

“They never did want me, did they?”

He couldn’t help himself, he pulled his ward into a tight embrace.

So that’s what that feels like, Snape thought, as the pieces of his already broken heart disintegrated into powder.