Sitting in the middle of a sea of destruction, Snape watched the confetti of shredded paper rain down around him. In a way, it was rather soothing to watch. That was if one didn't think about how much money he had spent in collecting those rare books for his personal library. The scent of burned ashes filtered around his sitting room as a few tattered books remained smoldering. To his right, emerald flames of the fireplace suddenly roared with life, but he ignored it for the most part.

"Might I enter, my boy?" Dumbledore asked quietly.

"Seeing as how you'll do so anyway, what does it matter?"

"I shall respect your—"

"Do not insult me," Snape growled quickly, rising to his feet. He stalked towards his employer in the most menacing way he could. "You don't give a damn about anyone's privacy." His black eyes flashed dangerously. "If you had, you would not have revealed to the staff that Harry was my son. You had NO right to reveal that to them."

"Quite right, Severus, I should not have—"

"Cease in your ridiculous placations, old man. Unlike our usual game we play, I do not wish to hear them this morning. Clearly you understand why," he growled before whirling around and stalking off towards his bedroom.

"It might interest you to learn your son's condition, Severus," Dumbledore spoke a bit louder as the young wizard rounded the corner, attempting to end their conversation. His blue eyes watched the man's shoulders expectantly slump. He patiently waited for Severus to turn back towards him. "It appears that young Harry has made a full recovery. That is provided that he has a clear support system to deal with the emotional trauma that he no doubt suffered."

"Full recovery," Snape sneered. "What are you going on about, old man?" His voice was full of distrust. "Pomfrey informed me just eight hours ago that he was on his deathbed! How is it possible that now Harry's made a full recovery, physically speaking?"

"My understanding is that Miss Sinistra attempted the Martyr's Gift with young Harry."

"She did WHAT?" Snape bared his teeth with a murderous sneer. He couldn't believe the witch. It was ludicrous she'd even attempt something like that. Any number of things could've gone wrong.

Like most students that attended Hogwarts, Snape had snuck into the Restricted Section in the library late at night during his school years. He was fortunate enough on one of those occasions to find the book that contained the particulars concerning the Martyr's Gift. However, for obvious reasons, he didn't really ever see a need to use it.

According to what he'd read at the time, Martyr's Gift was just a step below the Killing Curse in terms of dark magic. The person was trading his or her life for another, so it wasn't that surprising to learn it was dark really. In essence, the person casting it usually went against the thread of fate. Meaning he or she was altering the predestined events of millions with that one slight alteration to the timeline.

"Am I to assume that she then managed to succeed and kill herself?" Snape's voice was cold as were his eyes. If Dumbledore answered in the negative, Snape was going to throttle her for being so foolish. He then released a hissed sigh. No, no, he wouldn't become his father. But he would give her a verbal lashing so harsh that she'd think twice about doing something this idiotic again.

"She did not. Poppy expects both she and Harry will recover mentally and physically fully with time. However, Miss Sinistra will be without her magic for quite some time. It is quite relieving that her subject is one that needs no magic in order to teach."

"No damage to her core?"

"None whatsoever that Poppy's found thus far," Dumbledore replied calmly. He then sighed. "I respect your decision to remain separated from your son. It is quite understandable that you would not wish to close all options, considering the boy's supposed destiny. However, bearing in mind what the boy has been through recently, I'd had hoped you'd change your mind." His blue eyes then locked with Snape's eyes. "Your son needs you, Severus. While it would not be wise to inform all of the students that Harry is your son, you could perhaps attempt to bond with him. That was your number one reason for not being with him last night when we all believed he would die, was it not?"

Biting back a growl, he conceded. He didn't know his son, but it didn't mean he shouldn't try.

~FTT~

Harry's eyes slowly opened to sounds of muttering next to him. He glanced towards the sound and nearly laughed when he saw his Astronomy professor attempting to reach for her wand on the bedside table. Obviously, Madam Pomfrey had made sure this would be nearly impossible for Professor Sinistra. Every time the petite professor reached for her silver wand, it'd mysteriously roll away from her towards Harry. When she suddenly glanced towards him, he quickly looked away to hide his smile from her. She was rather funny to watch.

"I don't suppose I could ask you to help me, could I, Harry?" she asked with a lopsided smile.

"Madam Pomfrey might become upset, Professor."

"Lovely, I find the one Gryffindor who doesn't want to break the rules." Professor Sinistra then laughed quietly before crossing her arms and sighing. "Ah, yes, I suppose this is my fault. Strangely enough, it always is." Her dark eyes glanced back towards Harry. "You know, you can laugh. It was rather funny if one has a strange sense of humor. I assure you that I'm not going to be insulted. So, go ahead, Harry, laugh."

The young Gryffindor softly snickered before glancing around the hospital wing. It was odd, but Harry felt more rested than ever. Unfortunately, he couldn't figure out why he felt that way. The last thing the young boy remembered was rereading that stupid note about him, Hermione, and Neville having detention later that night. He tried to rack his brain, but he only ended up giving himself a gigantic headache. Slowly, his bright green eyes found their way back to Professor Sinistra. There was something very strange about all this, him being in the hospital wing without any idea why. Maybe she knew. So he decided to ask her.

"Professor, do you know why I'm here? Did I get hurt or something?" Harry watched his Astronomy professor's smile falter slightly. "You do!" he exclaimed. "Please, Professor. What happened to me? Please," he quietly pleaded. He watched her close her eyes momentarily before she answered.

"You were attacked last night and suffered major trauma. You're going to be all right, though, Harry. I promise." She then flashed a soft, somber smile towards him. "It doesn't do well to dwell on it."

Harry sighed, but nodded. For now, he'd follow her advice, but only because it hurt his head too much to think about it. He then glanced towards her wand and sighed. She was an adult. She probably knew her limits a lot more than he did. What would it hurt to give her wand to her? Just to be safe, though, he glanced around before throwing back the covers and silently grabbing the long, thin silver wand from the bedside table next to him. Just prior to handing it to her, he felt warmth seeping from the wood into his fingers that held it, but he ignored the feeling.

"Thank you, Harry." She quickly pocketed her wand before attempting to get out of bed.

All the while, the young Gryffindor had returned to his bed. Physically, he felt perfectly fine. However, just under the surface, he felt odd. He didn't know how to describe it, but there was something there. He just didn't know what it was.

"Oh crap," Professor Sinistra suddenly moaned, grabbing her head.

"You're an idiot," a voice growled.

"Gee, thanks, Severus. That makes me feel loads better," she quipped.

With clasped hands in his lap, Harry watched uneasily as Snape helped Sinistra back onto her cot beside him. He didn't know why he was so fearful of the Potions master now. He didn't think the man did anything lately that would make him this nervous. He was after all getting rather used to Snape mocking him for his serious lack of Potions skills. Then again, Snape was a git to everyone except his precious Slytherins, so that was just the usual stuff.

"You are well aware that you've drained your core completely now, I assume?" Snape hissed towards her. "Need I go through the effects of a drained core?"

"No."

"Your body is attempting to replenish its magic, which leaves you physically drained. I doubt very much that you would even have reached the end of your bed before you collapsed. Had you continued much farther, you'd risk the chance of slipping into a permanent coma due to the unnecessary strain you put on your body." Snape then scoffed and shook his head. "Then again, I forget who I'm talking to here. Your health really isn't a priority of yours, is it, considering what you did?"

"You're welcome, Severus," she replied with a forced smile.

Harry had the feeling that the two weren't talking anymore about Professor Sinistra. He glanced between his professors before giving up. He obviously wouldn't figure out what they were really talking about in front of him. Snape was a Slytherin, and Sinistra . . . well, Harry wasn't quite sure which House she had belonged to yet.

"Mr. Potter, how do you feel currently?"

Green eyes narrowed slightly on Snape. What was going on? Snape was acting . . . well, nice. It was strange for Harry. The dark eyes that usually held pure loathing had slight warmth to them.

"Um . . . I have a bit of a headache, sir," Harry quietly replied. When Snape's hand suddenly moved from his side upwards, the young boy flinched instinctively and threw up his arm to block the expected blow. However, he felt nothing after a few moments, making him lower his arm. He could see the slight confusion in Snape and Sinistra's eyes as they stared at him. "Sorry, sir," he whispered, hanging his head. "I'm a bit jumpy also."

"Considering what you experienced, it's rather understandable, Mr. Potter. Now, how long have you had this headache?"

"Since I woke up, sir," the young Gryffindor answered. As Snape pressed his hand against Harry's forehead, Harry watched curiously. The touch felt rather nice, but he wasn't about to tell Snape that. Who knew how the man would react with such a comment? However, Harry couldn't hold back his instinct. Leaning further into the man's hand, he closed his eyes to soak in the man's warmth. When Snape kept his hand on Harry's forehead for a few extra moments, the boy was rather shocked. When he realized Snape's delay, he opened his eyes and stared at the man curiously. Green met obsidian, but Snape quickly glanced away and removed his hand.

"I'll speak with Madam Pomfrey, Harry—dammit, I mean, Potter." Snape definitely looked flustered before he headed presumably towards Madam Pomfrey's office. He muttered the entire way.

Harry's eyes widened. That was the first time he remembered Snape calling him by his first name. Glancing towards Sinistra, he caught her shaking with hushed laughs. Well, it was rather funny.

~FTT~

Crossing the threshold into Pomfrey's office, Snape sighed heavily. He caught the matron's head snapping up instantly. He only stared at her, though. No doubt about it, he was a moron, a complete and utter moron. He pushed away his horrid thoughts and focused at the task at hand.

"I was ordered to speak with you, Madam."

"That's what it takes to see your son, Severus, an order?"

"Pomfrey, just inform me about his condition. However, you should know that the boy is complaining of a headache." Snape held his ground when he caught her brief flash of anger at his brushing off her snide comment. He didn't need to hear her ridiculous thoughts on that matter. He had Dumbledore for that, luckily. When she refused to speak, he folded his arms and leaned against the wall in his familiar 'I can wait all damn night if you want to play this game' stance.

"Dammit, Severus," Madam Pomfrey growled before shaking her head grumpily. "Physically speaking, Harry is fine. It appears as if Aurora's efforts to save your son worked beautifully. All of his physical injuries are no more." At his disbelief, she snapped," Don't you dare give me that look, Severus. I don't have a reason for it either, but that is what my scans have all found." She then glanced towards the wall that blocked her view of Harry. "Wait, you said he had a headache?" When Snape inclined his head, she quickly stood up and briskly walked past him.

"Where are you going?"

"Surely, Severus, you don't wish me not to examine your son. His headache could be a hidden symptom of something serious underlying."

"You're lying through your teeth," he growled.

"Am I?" Madam Pomfrey didn't wait for him to reply, though. She breezed into the main part of her Infirmary and smiled pleasantly towards her two patients. Waving her wand over Harry, she glanced at the results floating close to her wand before sighing. "Well, that's disappointing."

"Is it that bad, Madam?" Harry asked, biting his bottom lip.

"No, dear, it isn't bad now that we have Severus."

Snape felt his stomach tighten as his dark eyes darted to the mediwitch. The way she said that, he knew wasn't good for him. He tried to sneak a glance at her results, but the bloody things didn't make a damn bit of sense to him. Then again, he was a Potions master, not a healer.

"Madam, what do you mean?" Snape asked, clenching his teeth slightly.

"It appears as if I was mistaken earlier about pronouncing Harry being physically well. I'm afraid, Harry, dear, you needs a transfusion of blood and magic to restart your core. I had thought it had restored your magic also, but I was obviously mistaken." She then rested a gentle and compassionate hand on Harry's shoulder. "No worries, though, Harry. You see, traditionally speaking, any family member could give it. However, we luckily have Severus," Pomfrey replied with a smile as wide as the Cheshire cat before glancing towards Snape.

"Professor Snape isn't related to me, though." Harry then awkwardly laughed when no one responded. "I mean, I'm right, right, he's not?"

"Between you and Dumbledore, I don't know which of you are worse, Pomfrey," Snape growled before glancing towards his son. "For reasons that I do not wish to divulge quite yet, perhaps it'd just be good for both of us not to dwell on the meaning of this and focus on you."

"So you are related to me?"

Pitching the bridge of his nose, Snape groaned loudly. Someday he was going to buy a boat and sail off to Antarctica or somewhere far away from meddlesome idiots who couldn't keep their noses out of his personal affairs. He then sighed before glancing at his son. The boy's green eyes remained on him, watching his every move.

"I am, but we'll speak about this after Madam Pomfrey releases you."

"That'll be later this afternoon, Severus, and I'm releasing him into your expert hands."

"Just take my goddamn blood and magic, you insufferable woman," Snape growled, thrusting his arm towards her. He ignored the pressure as she drew it. This was so not the way he envisioned this going. However, perhaps it was for the best in the end. If Harry's earlier actions gave away anything, it was that his son craved attention. It was a worrisome trait, but one that they would work on together.