"You have to eat," Hermione reminded him.

"No I don't," he said.

"Harry, you'll be hungry later," she pleaded.

"You're not my mother." His voice was deadpan and uninterested. Why was everyone taking such an interest in him? He didn't deserve it.

"Harry you-"

He stood up and grabbed his book bag, ignoring her as he walked away. He grabbed an apple on the way out and stuffed it into his bag when he was in the Entrance Hall, just in case, he told himself, even if he wasn't hungry.

For once his day seemed void of emotion. No anger at Draco or his cronies, no curiosity over Snape's actions, no panic over dreams or sleeplessness, no nothing, just one event after another until it was time to go back to the Dungeons, where his life was upside down. That was when things started happening, and Harry felt like he was finally waking up that day, albeit very late in the game.

Harry didn't feel like doing homework, so he lay on Snape's guest bed with the door closed staring at the ceiling, wondering why Snape hadn't kicked him out yet and when it would happen.

There was a knock on the door around eight o'clock and Snape entered with the potion and a new tin of bruise balm as the previous tin had run out already.

"Those new bruises should be gone soon because we got the balm on when they were fresh. Tonight will probably be the last application." He unscrewed the lid and waited for Harry to sit up and lift his shirt up so that Snape could put the bruise balm on his back. Harry did no such thing however and Snape raised a brow.

"Did you hear me Potter?"

"I heard."

"And you're choosing to ignore me because you want to... what?"

"I'm not in the mood. Just leave."

Harry rolled over to face away from his Professor and Severus stood there staring at his back.

It was a few moments before he said, "Explain to me Mr. Potter how you are not in the mood to heal your body while sleeping in my guest bed, in my home, while taking my time up to ignore me."

Suddenly there was a spark of something in Harry's heart and he realized it was the rush he always got when uncle Vernon was about to pummel him for saying something stupid.

"Don't feel like it," he said, sure he knew what was coming next, however painful it might be.

"Sit up Mr. Potter, and look at me."

Harry didn't move for a moment, and waited to be told to get the hell out. The command didn't come however and he was irritated suddenly because he was sure he could feel the man's stare burning holes in his back.

"Harry-"

Suddenly Harry sat up and spun around at the use of his first name and shouted, "Stop! Just stop! I hate you! I hate how fake you are! Did Dumbledore put you up to this?" He stood up and strode out of the room, but before he could make the front door to the quarters, a hand had a firm grasp around his wrist, albeit not painfully.

"Sit down on the couch," Snape said, words coming out smoothly and with no hint of anger. This only seemed to enrage Harry.

"NO! Let go of me! I don't want you to touch me!" He tried prying Snape's fingers from his wrist, but they weren't budging, and he suddenly wondered at the strength of the man.

"You need the potion and the balm. If you don't use the potion here you will have to go to the Hospital Wing," he said calmly.

"I don't want your help," Harry pushed out through gritted teeth, still trying to prize off the fingers. "You're being too nice to me. Just toss me out already."

Snape released Harry's wrist then and Harry stumbled backwards, barely managing to catch himself from falling.

"What did you say?"

Harry stared at the floor as he cast around his mind frantically for whatever he had said to make the man let go of him. "What, what do you mean?" He was confused. He couldn't remember what he had said.

"You said I was being too nice to you and that I should toss you out already. Is that what you want? You're not used to somebody being nice to you so you want me to throw you out?"

Harry shook his head, no, no, that sounded ridiculous, he thought. Everybody wants people to be nice to them. He wanted people to be nice to him.

"I didn't say that," Harry said. "You're being stupid."

Severus remembered what he had seen in the boy's mind; memories of him being called worthless... memories of him giving up.

"You do want me to be mean to you," he said in realization, and Harry shook his head. "Yes you do, because that's what you know. You think that because people treated you like that you deserve it, and something must be wrong if somebody's treating you kindly."

Harry was shaking his head with fervor now, looking away. "No, you're crazy."

"Why else would you say things you know will most likely make me angry when you need the potion and balm? I've seen how you take steps to protect yourself Potter, keeping food with you, ensuring you had the balm, so I know something's wrong when you separate yourself from things you need."

He started backing away, breathing hard and Severus was worried he'd pushed the boy over the edge and into a panic attack, so he gave the boy a moment to calm down.

"It's true, isn't it? You think you deserve it."

Harry didn't respond this time, but kept breathing erratically.

"You don't deserve to be treated like that Harry. You're human and you deserve to be treated like one."

Harry was shaking his head again now, but for a different reason. "Shut up. You don't know what you're talking about. Just, just stay back." He held his hand out to stop him as Severus took a few steps closer.

"I- I don't- you don't, you don't know. That's crazy what you're saying."

"But it's true. You deserve to be treated kindly."

"Just, just stop-" he said it meekly and Severus could see that the boy was running out of steam. He stepped up closer to the boy and placed a hand on his shoulder. Harry's breath hitched and he choked out, "I don't know how to believe you," and then his walls came crashing down as he sobbed hard and fell into Severus' chest, burying his face in his black shirt.

Surprised, Severus' first inclination was to step back. He hadn't meant to push the boy this far to get him to acknowledge his feelings, and it had been a rare occasion when he'd had to deal with somebody crying near him.

Looking down at the boy's mop of black hair however reminded him of another time long ago when a red haired girl he loved saw fit to cry on his shoulder over her own woes, and he let his guard fall, unable to see Harry crying without being affected.

Severus maneuvered the boy to the couch and sat down with him, arm wrapped tightly around his shoulder as he cried, finally letting all of his hurt out for the world to see.

"You deserve to be treated right," Severus repeated, "and to have others acknowledge that."

It was another fifteen minutes before Harry stopped crying, and another ten before Severus looked down to see the teen fast asleep. Unwilling to wake the child who so desperately needed the rest, he sat that way for another hour before a cramp in his leg forced him up off the couch. He lay the boy down and conjured a blanket to cover him, as well as a fire in the grate to warm the living room. Miraculously, without the potion, the boy slept through the night.