Harry woke early the next morning, tired and in a very black mood. Shadow didn’t seem much better, and Harry was pretty sure that he hadn’t slept any more than Harry had, or been any less worried.

The worst thing of all was that they did not know exactly what it was that Snape knew. All they knew was that he knew something. Grumbling slightly, Harry dragged himself out of bed, collected his toiletries and padded over to the bathroom, getting a slight thrill from being allowed to do so.

While he brushed his teeth, Harry watched with interest as Shadow did the same, watching Harry right back. They seemed to have a fascination with each other that would sometimes lead to them unconsciously copying the other’s movements.

Harry smiled a little. Is this what it’s like having a brother? It’s certainly the closest I’m ever going to get. Harry felt a sharp pang as he found himself wishing that Shadow could be standing there beside him, instead of constantly being separated by a pane of glass. Harry met Shadow’s eyes and knew he felt the same.

Harry ducked his head and smiled sadly. Shadow was better than nothing; that at least he knew.

Once he returned to the bedroom, Harry hit an unforeseen snag; mainly in the form of his and Shadow’s first disagreement.

‘But I want to wear the green one!’ Shadow brandished the t-shirt in question, causing Harry to look down at the blue, baggy one in his hand.

“It’s my nicest shirt; I don’t want to get it dirty this early in the holidays.”

‘Do you want to look like a ragamuffin? Don’t answer that. Of course you don’t, it’s just that you don’t have enough pride in your appearance to truly want to change that.’

Harry bristled, but Shadow held up a hand.

‘Next time you go to Diagon Alley, it’s a simple matter of sneaking out into Muggle London and going to the nearest M&S – you only need clothes that fit, after all, not the latest fashion.’

Harry stared at Shadow, hope blooming, before it was crushed the next second. “Shadow,” he said gently. “Snape’s bound to be the one to take us next time, and it’s not like he’s going to let us more than two feet away from him the whole time we’re there.”

‘Oh.’ Shadow crumpled a little, sagging onto the bed. ‘Never mind then. But can we wear the green today? Please?’

Harry laughed a little. “All right, then! Anything to keep my little brother happy.”

Shadow bristled. ‘I’m not little,’ he grumbled as he and Harry pulled the green shirt over their heads. ‘I daresay I know more than you could ever hope to remember. I’m not little!’

Harry laughed again – it truly was almost like having a real brother to tease and wind up. “Oh no? If I remember correctly you’ve only existed for, hmm…” Harry pretended to think. “Two days now. That seems pretty little to me.”

Shadow opened his mouth to retort before finally taking in Harry’s wide-eyed expression.

‘You’re teasing me!’

“Yup!”

‘You little sod,’ Shadow laughing as he chucked a shoe at the mirror. It connected with the glass and the mirror wobbled alarmingly. Harry and Shadow stared at each other, shocked.

‘Oops.’

Harry stepped forward and gently stroked the frame. “That’s it, good mirror; nice mirror. Don’t break on us or I will have to have a rather interesting chat with my Potions Professor as to why my alter-ego broke his mirror.”

Shadow took one look at Harry and cracked up. ‘You’re completely batty!’ he managed to gasp out between giggles.

Harry grinned at him. “I just thought you deserved a laugh at my expense. We’re even now. Besides, please don’t break the mirror – that really isn’t a conversation I would like to have with Snape.”

‘OK, OK, I’ll be good big brother!’ Shadow gave Harry ‘puppy eyes’ a little before smirking. ‘Now that we’ve both had our crazies for the morning, do you think you could get us dressed before Snape comes up and rips into us for not being ready?’

Harry smiled. “Sure.”

The next couple of minutes were spent getting ready and Harry used them to contemplate how Shadow was behaving. When he had first appeared in Harry’s bedroom window, he had acted exactly as Harry would have in that situation, but as time moved on, he seemed to be acting more and more as his own person.

Can someone’s personality change that quickly? Harry pondered. Of course; there’s two of us now and that’s affecting both our behaviour accordingly. Even I’m acting a little different because I know Shadow’s here. Ah! It’s so confusing! Will Shadow one day really end up as his own person, only with my memories? That thought’s both comforting and unsettling.

There was a loud knock at the door. Shadow and Harry both exchanged a look that clearly said uh oh before Harry cleared his throat and called out, “Come in!”

The door opened to reveal a rather disgruntled looking Snape. “Well, come along then, Mr Potter. I haven’t got all day!”

“Yes, Professor.” Harry exchanged a last ‘look of impending doom’ with Shadow before following the end of Snape’s robes, which had just whipped around the edge of the doorframe.

Harry hurried as quickly as he dared on his weakened ankle after his fast-moving Professor. He had already admitted to himself that he was very curious about the house and unashamedly stared around as they passed multiple doors, climbed down the sturdy wooden stairs and marched down the front hall towards another door at the far end, furthest from the front door.

Snape ushered him into a long kitchen and over to the table, making sure Harry sat down and glowered at him until Harry picked up his spoon and started eating his porridge. Normally Harry didn’t mind porridge, and this was particularly good porridge, but it is rather off putting to have someone staring at you the whole time while you’re eating it.

Finally, Harry drained the last of his pumpkin juice and set his spoon in the empty bowl. I’m not sure whether to curse or bless Snape for the size of portions he gives me, he thought as he leant back and rubbed his tight tummy.

Shadow appeared as a reflection in Harry’s glasses and Harry blinked in surprise. Somehow his friend had managed to get the hang of appearing in Harry’s glasses overnight. In fact, it looked almost as if Shadow was sitting in one of the seats along the side of the table. Harry silently complimented him on that pretty amazing feat, making a note to congratulate Shadow when they were alone.

Shadow grinned and gave him the thumbs up before turning to watch Snape who was almost finished with his own porridge. Harry watched Snape too until the man glared at him. What? You’re allowed to stare at me, but I’m not allowed to stare at you? Talk about unfair!

Harry scowled at the white table cloth and waited until Snape had finished.

“I daresay you’ve even forgotten to bring your work with you. Well, Potter?”

Idiot! Harry winced. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry.”

Snape snorted. “Accio Potter’s Potions essay!” The creamy parchment shot around the open door and sailed into his hand. “Come along!”

Harry jumped up and followed along after the Potions Master; back down the hall to the front door, turning right at the foot of the stairs and opening the door directly in front of them. Harry stared around him as Snape led him through some sort of living room, admiring the decoration and furnishings. There was even a very comfortable looking red and gold couch in front of the fire. Harry stopped dead. Wait a minute. Red and gold?

“The Headmaster’s idea for a joke, I assure you.” Harry looked up, startled, to find Snape watching him. “And one does not just say no to Albus Dumbledore. Come along, Potter!”

Snape strode forward and Harry followed dazedly. Was Snape just half decent to me? Or am I being delusional? At least he’s decided not to bring up last night.

Snape opened another door that lead on from the room and ushered Harry through. Harry, still lost in his own thoughts, did not at first realise the dimensions of the room he had stepped into. When he finally collected himself enough to look around, his jaw dropped open and he froze in place.

The library could easily be called the largest room in the house. Someone – Harry didn’t know if it was Snape or another person – had taken down the ceiling that had separated the rooms above; thus creating a space two stories high that was practically crammed with books.

Even Harry – who was more interested in physical activities than sitting around reading – wanted to run to the nearest shelf and start reading the first book that came to hand. It was obvious that most of the books within the vast room were full of knowledge about magic… Harry could only imagine what a person like Hermione would feel like coming in here. As it was, he felt excited and awed by this discovery.

“Well, Mr Potter?” Harry gulped and he snapped his head around to stare at Snape. “Does my library meet with your approval?”

Harry almost sighed in relief. Though partially hidden, there was a sardonic undertone in Snape’s voice that let Harry know that the older man had been amused by his charge’s reaction.

“It’s- It’s amazing, sir,” Harry told him sincerely.

Snape eyed him for a moment before nodding. “It did take me several years to amass a collection big enough to fill the space. Rest assured, all books are up to date and pertinent. Unlike some one could find in the Hogwarts’ collection,” he grumbled, but Harry could hear the underlying pride in Snape’s voice as he spoke of his achievement.

Harry said nothing and went back to surveying the shelves, trying to conceal his surprise at how nice Snape was being to him… well, for Snape at any rate. For some reason, Harry had always expected old books full of information to be rather drab and dull, but to his surprise, the shelves were filled with tomes of all shapes, sizes, colours and, in some instances, textures. He reached out a hand towards a volume claiming itself to be ‘The 1944 Treatise of Independent Werewolf Rights’ but managed to catch himself just in time. God only knows what Snape would do if he saw me touching his precious books without his permission.

He almost jumped when he realised Snape had been watching him the whole time, and felt his face heat with humiliation.

“Come along, Potter. I want that essay finished and well-written before the start of term and that is not going to happen if you stand around gawping all day.” Snape turned with a flare of his robes and walked over to a small desk placed beside one of the long, two-storey windows that ran along the south wall of the room. Harry followed and tried to shake off the feeling that Snape was being deliberately nice to him. His words were harsh enough, but the tone – though still commanding – was something else entirely.

Harry shivered. I must be imagining it.

Harry sat in the chair Snape indicated, placed his essay on the desk, before realising he did not have any ink. He looked nervously up at Snape, who sighed deeply as though greatly put upon.

“Wait here, Potter. Do not touch anything.”

“Yes, Professor.” Snape gave him a hard look before leaving the room once more.

Harry settled back in his chair a little and surveyed the large, sturdy shelves that went all the way to the ceiling in the thirty foot high room. He studied them carefully, wanting to take in every detail so that he could remember it well enough to describe to Hermione – if Hedwig ever returned of course. Taking a quick look at the door to check that Snape wasn’t going to come back any time soon, Harry stood up and started wandering the shelves, being very careful not to touch anything.

“Hey, Shadow, look at this! ‘One Hundred and One Ways to Go Cauldron Scrumping’!” Harry laughed and shook his head at the absurdity of the Wizarding World. “Why on Earth does he have this?”

Shadow snickered and leaned forward for a closer look at the gold title – he had managed to turn around in Harry’s glasses, so he could look out like Harry did. Harry was extremely impressed with his double’s cleverness, and not a little bit proud.

What is wrong with me? He’s not a separate person – he’s me. I shouldn’t be feeling this way. But Harry’s feelings didn’t take the slightest bit of notice and he realised, too late, that some part of him had already adopted Shadow as his honorary younger brother.

‘Ha! Maybe he was short on a few cauldrons a couple of years back – possibly when Neville started blowing them up!’ That statement earned a snort from Shadow’s solid double. ‘Hey, Harry, wanna go cauldron scrumping?’

Harry blinked innocently at Shadow. “But, Shadow, the only cauldrons around here are Snape’s!”

They looked at each other and doubled over laughing.

‘Oh, just imagine it! We find his lab, you use your magic to disappear the cauldrons, and he won’t even be able to blame you! He’s confiscated your wand after all!’

“Oh! Oh! Stop, Shadow, stop! He’ll probably go into one of his mad rages; ‘It was Potter! I know it was Potter!’” Harry mimicked, starting them laughing again. “Why are we even laughing?” he asked as they both calmed down a bit.

‘Release of tension? Lack of Dursleys? Us knowing we can get one up on Snape without him figuring out how?’

“Ah. The wise one has returned.” Harry nodded sagely, holding up one hand in a ‘How’ gesture.

‘You are such a prat!’

“Uh huh. Shadow? What’s that?”

Harry pointed high, high up, to the top shelf of the nearest bookcase. Shadow turned and his gaze followed his finger to the correct shelf.

‘That? It… it looks like a box. A black box. What’s something like that doing in a library?’

“I dunno.” Harry chewed his lip and glanced towards the door again. “I’m going up.”

Shadow whirled around, eyes wide. ‘Harry, no! He could be back at any moment!’

“Calm down; there’s a ladder. I’ll be up and down there in a trice. Besides, aren’t you curious? Where’s your sense of adventure?”

‘Hiding in the bedroom along with my pride.’ Shadow chewed his bottom lip, looking very worried. ‘Snape’ll kill us!’

“Only if he catches us. Come along!”

‘I- I think I’ll stay down here.’ Shadow vanished from Harry’s glasses and re-appeared in the window.

Harry rolled his eyes at his counterpart’s stubbornness. “Like that’s going to make any difference!” He hurried over to the ladder and tried to tug it to where it would be directly below the black box. It did not move. “What the hell? What kind of person nails a library ladder to the shelves?”

‘Snape obviously.’ Harry still felt a little irritated with Shadow, but he understood why the other boy didn’t want to go up, so he turned and gave him a weak smile. “Yeah, call me if you hear anything – I may have to end up sliding down the ladder!”

Shadow nodded, so Harry gripped the bottom rungs and began to climb. His ankle ached a little every time he put his climbing weight on it, but he ignored it as best he could; knowing that he needed to reach the top as soon as possible.

Panting, he reached the top shelf and hauled himself onto it, cursing the dust up there that might end up giving him away. There was just enough space for him to crawl along the shelf, and he shuffled as quickly as possible towards the box.

Part of Harry knew that what he was doing was incredibly foolish; it was one of Snape’s private possessions after all. Unfortunately, the other part of him – the one that loved solving mysteries – was at the forefront of his mind at the moment, and he knew that unless he discovered the contents of the box, he would not be able to sleep.

I’ll only take a quick look; just one peep, and I’ll be back on the ground before you can say ‘Bob’s your uncle!’

Harry reached out to the now reachable box and pushed at the lid. The latch clicked and the hinges squeaked and then the box was open before him. Harry looked inside and discovered… another book under a thick pile of dust. What could be so important about it that it gets its own box? Frowning, Harry leaned forward further and reached out a hand to wipe the dust away, which was obscuring the title.

His fingers touched the surface of the book and started to move across it. Suddenly, Harry gasped as he realised that the book was warm and faintly pulsing under his hand.

His first gasp, however, was nowhere near as loud as the second when the book dissolved in a shower of golden light and absorbed into his skin.

Harry stared, his eyes wide and his hand shaking. Shit. Not good. Really, really not good.

‘Harry?’ came a young voice. ‘What’s happening up there?’

Harry gulped. “Err, nothing, Shadow. Nothing at all. The thing in the box was a book by the way.” Was being the operative word! “I’m coming down now!”

‘Good! Hurry – Snape will be back soon.’

Harry started edging his way backwards along the shelf, so intent on his task that he didn’t even notice when the door opened. Shadow, his eyes locked on Harry’s body, didn’t notice either.

HPSSHPSSHPSS

Severus rummaged around in the desk in his study, grumbling quietly to himself. Drat! Why do I never keep things like this on hand? He tossed the fifteenth quill he had found over his shoulder and kept searching. I might as well have sent Potter to fetch his own!

The reason he had deemed the first fifteen quills useless wasn’t because the quills were unusable; more simply, it was because they were enchanted. Though they were not like the original self-spelling quills, they did have a nifty charm attached to them which had made them very useful to many a weary teacher.

After a misspelled word had been written, they caused the ink to change colour on the word in question, bringing the writer’s attention to it. The charm then made the letters of the word rearrange into the correct order once the writer was watching before finally returning the ink to its original colour.

Severus found them very useful and informative – especially when it was past midnight and there were still ten more essays for him to mark – but he was damned if he was going to let Potter use them. How else was the boy going to learn?

He paused for a moment in his search as he remembered the occurrences of last night. The disappearances had deeply unsettled him, and Severus had found himself jumping at the slightest noise that sounded like the ward alarm. But it was not only the idea of rogue Malfoys that was bothering him.

Severus closed his eyes and groaned as the simple, crayoned words Harry’s Room flashed before his mind. That was one thing he really did not want to think about. Unfortunately, it was the one thing that had been present in his mind for most of the time since he discovered it.

Harry’s Room – those words spoke volumes about how the child had been treated during his formative years of life. Even Severus’ father had never shut his son in a cupboard and told him it was his room, despite the other cruelties he may have visited on him as a boy. Severus found his hand trembling again and gripped the edge of the desk tightly. It was at times like these that Severus wanted nothing more to rush to the boy’s side and gather him up in his arms, whispering ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry’ over and over again until the child stopped hurting forever.

With the illusion of Potter’s cosseted lifestyle shattered, Severus could no longer deny the truth – though he wanted, longed to be able to. He cared about Harry Potter – the trouble, the insolence, the cheek and all. No matter how many times the boy sneered at him, glared at him or challenged him, Severus would not be able to change the fact that he would willing protect the child, even without any outside prompting.

Albus – damn the man – had already guessed this, and instead of sending Severus to the Ministry, where his duelling skills might be needed, he had sent him to fetch Harry Potter, knowing that Severus would protect the boy to his dying breath.

Severus really, really hated it when Albus was right. Not only did he get the impulse to bash his head on the table when it happened, he also knew that the twinkle in the Headmaster’s eyes would end up increasing exponentially. There’s nothing worse than discovering you’re wrong about something and having to sit in front of a man who plies you with tea and Lemon Drops, all the while wearing the ‘I told you so’ face.

Severus snarled. Stupid Albus, stupid Potter. My life would be so much easier without either of them!

Finally Severus spotted a quill that he’d purchased only recently and hadn’t had time to enchant yet. He dragged his chair over to the shelf the quill was resting on and climbed on the chair to fetch it down. Fortuitously, there was an unopened bottle of black ink beside it, and Severus was spared the task of searching for a new one.

After climbing down off the chair and crossing the door, Severus paused and stared at the handle, working up the courage and the calm persona he needed to handle the boy at the moment. It was very difficult to know how to act around Potter now that so many of Severus’ beliefs about him had been shattered.

Collecting himself, Severus strode out of the study, down the hall, through the living room, and reached out to open the library door silently. Scaring Potter was always entertaining.

Severus walked quietly into the room, and stopped. The chair Potter had been sitting in was empty. In fact, the entire library seemed empty, and there were very few places a teenage boy could hide – even one with Potter’s stature. He opened his mouth in puzzlement and closed it again.

It was then he heard the noise; a soft shuffling. Severus’ head whipped around and up, and he saw the boy for the first time; crawling backwards along the highest shelf, grey streaks of dust adorning his unruly hair. Severus stared transfixed for a fraction of a second before he felt all-consuming anger boil over from the pit of his stomach.

“Mr Potter, get down from there at once!” His voice sounded like a whip-crack and Potter flinched violently, dislodging his knees from the slippery shelf. For a second, he hung onto the shelf he had been kneeling on, legs scrambling beneath to get a purchase, before he managed to hook his feet onto the shelf below and steady himself.

Severus tried to swallow his heart, which seemed to have leapt into his throat. “Get. Down. Now!” he purred in his quietest, most dangerous tone. Potter gulped and edged his way over to the ladder, stepped onto it and carefully climbed down.

Angry at the insane stupidity of Potter’s actions, Severus strode over to the bottom of the ladder, his hands shaking with rage. As soon as Potter was within reach, Severus grabbed the scruff of his neck with one hand, and wrapped his other arm around the boy’s middle. Ignoring his startled yelp and consequent struggling, Severus lifted him bodily – high enough so his kicking feet wouldn’t touch the ground – and strode over to the couch placed in the centre of the room.

“Snape! Letmego! Snape, I’m sorry!”

Severus took no notice and sat down on the couch, hauling Potter directly over his lap and holding him down. The first smack took Potter completely by surprise and he squealed and stilled.

Satisfied that he now had the boy’s attention, Severus brought his hand down with another loud crack as he began to lecture, making sure that the smacks were repeated at regular intervals throughout. “Do not ever endanger your life in such a stupid way again. First the Stone, then the Chamber, then the Werewolf and that idiot Black, and now this! You stupid, hard-headed little boy! You are not invincible, you are not able to rectify every situation with a wave of your hand. You could have died! One of these days you are going to get yourself killed unless you stop these brainless ventures! If you ever do anything like this ever again, so help me God; I will make you wish you had never been born. Do. You. Under-Stand?” He punctuated his last syllables with even sharper slaps than he had used previously, drawing a subdued response from Potter, who had gone quiet halfway through.

Then he released the boy and Potter slid off his lap like a greased eel.

The child turned and stared up at him from the floor. His pale face was the colour of milk and Severus noticed with a detached interest that the boy had not shed a single tear. What else did those monsters do to him? Severus felt a sharp pang for having hurt the boy himself, but firmly pushed it aside. The boy needs to learn self-worth. He’s not going to learn that from words alone. Potter still hadn’t moved and was staring up at him rather like a deer in car headlights.

Severus sighed and grabbed the boy’s shoulder, purposefully ignoring how he flinched. He then spoke, keeping his tone gentle. “It is high time somebody took you in hand, Potter. Even you have to admit that you were out of control. Now listen to me, and listen closely; every life is worth something – you understand and accept this about other people, I know – but what you have to learn is that your own life is worth just as much.”

Severus reached over and lifted the boy to his feet. Still keeping his voice low and soothing, he said, “Now. Go to your room and contemplate all this in solitude. You need to draw your own conclusions.” Stepping back and drawing himself to his full height, Severus sneered and made his next words come out harsher. “And don’t even think about trying to leave it. Believe me, I will know.”

Severus didn’t bother completing the sentence – he could tell Potter had guessed the hidden threat when the boy paled even further. Severus gave him a gentle push and watched as the boy hurried out of the room on shaky legs.

Only when the door closed behind him did Severus allow his own shaky legs deposit him on the sofa. He felt ripped open; raw and vulnerable. And if this was how he felt, God only knew how the boy was feeling. Severus made a mental note to check on him later – much later. Severus needed to calm down first.

The anger and consequent outlet when he had finally realised he had had enough of Potter’s indifferent attitude towards his own personal safety while others were bending over backwards to protect him – Severus included – had made him feel both vindicated and horrified.

However, only now could the Professor realise why Potter always risked himself. The idiotic child believed himself to be totally worthless – a fact obviously hammered into him by those worthless Dursleys. If there’s anything left of them after the Malfoys are done with them, I’ll rip them to shreds and spit on the pieces! How dare they do that to any child, let alone Lily’s child. Lily was the sweetest, kindest, dearest person I have ever met and her boy had every potential to be the same and they ruined him!

Severus seethed, his hands shaking, longing to rip and rend. Slowly, he calmed a little and was able to break his thoughts out of the vicious cycle of hate. But have they ruined him? He is kind and generous and very protective towards his friends. Though he is extremely defensive to anyone who threatens him, he does not have the makings of a broken child. Rather, he fights back with pluck and courage and spirit. Maybe, if I help him, he will become the child he was meant to be. Even if that does mean he’ll start acting like ruddy James Potter reincarnate.

Severus blew out a breath and leaned back into the couch – his tense muscles making themselves known to him and his hand aching from all those hard slaps. He looked out of the window and was startled to see the sun much lower in the sky than expected. They had missed lunch all together, and it was actually closer to when some people would have afternoon tea.

Severus wasn’t sure whether or not he was surprised that Potter hadn’t bothered to sneak out of his room to get food – the alarm he had placed on the boy’s door would have told him if Potter had. Not that Severus would have blamed Potter anyway if he wished to get food – Severus might have even let him get away with it.

Sighing, the man made his way to the kitchen. Once there he quickly prepared a couple of sandwiches that would tide Potter over until dinner. After all, the boy was suffering from malnutrition; it wouldn’t do to starve him even more.

Ascending the stairs to Potter’s room, Severus felt apprehension rising within him. Once he was outside the door, he stopped and listened for a few minutes. Soft sniffles came from inside the room.

Severus slowly opened the door and entered the room, not bothering to knock as it was unlikely that Potter would have bid him entrance anyway. The sight that met his eyes made Severus’ heart jerk a little.

The boy was standing in front of a broken mirror, staring into the fragmented pieces and shivering, his thin arms wrapped tight around his torso in a kind of self-hug.

“Mr Potter.”

The boy whirled around, frantically scrubbing at his cheeks which were more than a little damp.

“I’m not hungry, sir,” the boy mumbled as he caught sight of the plate in Severus’ hand. His voice was hollow and very, very quiet.

“Nevertheless, you need to eat.” Severus set the plate on the bed and faced the boy once more, deciding to ignore the issue of the broken mirror. After all, in a world of magic, mirrors can be easily repaired, and as the mirror was enchanted to start with – preventing any of the pieces from falling out of the frame – there was little danger of either of them cutting themselves. Severus took a step towards the boy, but stopped when Potter flinched and moved back several steps.

Severus’ heart ached again. It needed to be said. It had to be said. “Mr Potter, I assure you that while I have spanked you due to an obvious infraction on your behalf, I would never treat you the way they did.”

Potter’s eyes snapped to his face and any colour that had returned to the boy’s face quickly leached from it. Potter’s arms wrapped even tighter around his small frame as he quickly spun around, turning his back on the Potions Master and leaning against one of the bed posts – as though his legs were too weak to hold him.

Perhaps they were.

“No. No, no, no, no, no, no,” the child whispered, shaking his head in desperate denial and shivering from head to toe.

“Potter?” No response. “Mr Potter?” Still no response. Oh well, nothing for it. “Harry?” The boy twitched and sniffed, but did not turn around.

Severus sighed and stepped up behind the boy. After a moment’s hesitation, he placed his hand on Potter’s shoulder.

“It may seem like the end of the world,” Severus faltered, but knew he had to go on, “but I promise you that… it does get easier. It does… get better.”

Potter stopped shivering and turned a face streaked with new tears to his Professor. He looked shocked.

“You…” he started, and then faltered.

Severus looked at him solemnly. “Me. Your secret is safe. Though we will have to tell the Headmaster, I’m afraid. Once he is on our side, he will be able to find a way not to send you back to your relatives.” Severus stressed our side a little, hoping Potter would understand that he did not wish to fight him. Not anymore.

Potter gulped and nodded, but the shivering started anew again.

Very slowly, so as not to spook him, Severus reached out and placed his hand in the middle of Potter’s back, pulling the boy against his body. He kept his hand in place, not exerting any pressure, not even holding the boy against him; just resting it there.

He was beyond surprised when Potter, instead of pushing away from his greasy Potions Professor, leaned into the touch so that his head was pressed against the man’s chest and the majority of his body weight was supported by Severus. He didn’t put his arms around for a hug, just leaned there, his eyes closed and his breathing once again regular.

“You know, the majority of your work on your Potions essay was surprisingly pertinent.”

A stifled sniffle. “’Nk you,” was mumbled somewhere from within the depths of his robes.

Severus rolled his eyes and gently rubbed the hand on Potter’s back in a circle – like he did with his homesick Slytherins. “You’re a silly boy, you know that? A very silly boy. You’re perfectly safe with me, you dunderhead, no matter how much I snarl at you.”

That seemed to do the trick. Potter pulled back from him and nodded. “I know. Now,” he whispered. Then, in an even lower voice, “’Nk you.”

“Enough with your thanking! Now, I expect those sandwiches to be completely gone by the time I come to fetch you for dinner,” he hesitated slightly, “You are not confined to your room, so you may explore the Manor if you so wish it, but no more touching of my things!”

Potter gave him a watery smile. “Yeah, I doubt I could survive another walloping in one day – I’ll have to save that for tomorrow.”

Severus reached out and ran his hand through the boy’s soft hair – to get rid of the remaining dust streaks, of course. “There’s the cheeky brat I know and loathe. Off with you! And no mischief!”

Potter chewed his lip. “Actually, sir, I was wondering if I could just go back to bed for a bit. I’m kind of tired now.”

He must have worn himself out. He’s still recovering after all. “Of course. Eat those sandwiches first. I will come and fetch you for dinner.” Potter nodded and crawled into bed, only bothering to take his shoes and glasses off. Severus wiped a last dust streak from the boy’s hair and started to leave the room, pausing only to fix the mirror.

Severus stepped into the hallway and shut the door behind him, trying not to think about how the glass in the mirror had bowed outwards; almost as if the mirror had been broken from the other side.