Harry rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. It wasn't fair!

He hadn't been able to sleep since forever, and now he was in trouble while Draco was sitting on the couch snuggled against Snape. The blond was just like his cousin Dudley, a self-centered, conceded, narcissistic prat. Crossing his arms over his chest he leaned forward resting his forehead on the cold stone of the intersecting walls. Okay, so maybe he couldn't remember exactly what Draco had said that caused him to punch the other boy. It didn't matter. The fact was: it was Draco. He must have done something to deserve a split upper lip. But Draco claimed he hadn't done anything, so, of course, Snape believed him.

After all, Draco was his godson. Snape hadn't been forced to take him in the summer after first year. No, after Draco's parents killed each other Snape had willingly taken the blond in.

Harry was just the boy Snape had been forced to take in due to an Unbreakable Vow he'd made when Harry was a baby. Snape had sworn on his life to Lily Evan Potter, his best friend, that he would protect Harry. Consequently, when the Dursley's where all killed by a drunk driver the summer after Harry's first year, Snape had been the one that showed up and take Harry away.

With an exaggerated sigh Harry leaned back away from the wall. This was boring. Turning around he was going to tell Snape as much, but was stopped by the velvety baritone.

"I suggest, Mr. Potter, you put your nose back in that corner, immediately."

"Harry," was all Harry said as he reluctantly turned back around squeezing his arms tighter around himself.

"Pardon?" Snape asked, and Harry was sure man had raised his eyebrow. He always did when he used that tone. The tone that was part questioning and part warning.

"You said over the summer that when we weren't in class you'd call me Harry." Harry's eyes narrowed at the stone corner as though it was at fault for his voice cracking.

"Indeed I did, Harry," Snape replied with a note in his voice Harry had yet to hear. It wasn't patronizing or condescending. It was calm and almost indifferent. It reminded Harry of a river, constantly flowing, never stopping as it meandered through wood and dale.

Harry continued to remain in the corner, he was both relieved and anxious when he heard Snape tell Draco to go to his room and work on his school work. He knew that Snape would call him from the corner soon and grill him with questions about why he'd hit Draco. And if Harry were to be honest with himself, he didn't know why. While the two boys hadn't hit it off when they met, they had learned to tolerate each other if for no other reason than survival.

Draco's parents while wealthy enough to give him just about anything, but they never gave their son any attention. His care was left to house elves, and it wasn't unusual for Draco to go a week or two without even seeing his parents though they lived under that same roof. Draco knew, however, despite the limited interaction he had with his parents that they hated each other. Lucius and Narcissa had married out of obligation, not love. They'd married to increase their wealth and status. Nothing more, nothing less.

"Are you able to control your temper now, Harry?" Snape asked.

"Yes sir," Harry said as he turned around, but remained in the corner.

"Come here," Snape beckoned, using his head to gesture sharply towards the couch.

Harry bit his bottom lip, but lowered his arms. Dragging his feet through the cream colored carpet he walked towards his guardian. With each step, it seemed, his feet sunk further into the ground as though walking through quicksand.

Eventually, Harry came to sit beside his professor, but pressed himself into the corner of the sofa. Harry waited, expecting the professor to start questioning him on why he hit Draco. He attempted to prepare himself for the sting of the tongue lashing, knowing that would soon follow.

"Are you ready to explain your atrocious behavior, now?" Snape asked without preamble.

Harry could only shrug in reply. He didn't have an explanation. He couldn't even remember what he and Draco had been talking about on their way down to Snape's quarters after seeing their friends off.

A low noise reminiscent of a growl, caused Harry to snap his head up and towards his guardian.

"You stupid, foolish, boy!" Snape exclaimed in what was almost a yell." As many times as I've calmed you after a nightmare of your Aunt and Uncle smacking you around for no reason, you of all people should know what that does to a person. Yet without consideration you split Draco's lip, and don't even have the decency to have a reason for it."

"That's not true!" Harry exclaimed in an attempt to defend himself. Maybe he didn't remember the reason, but it was Draco. Draco was always saying things just to get Harry riled up.

"Then tell me why," Snape demanded.

"I don't remember!" Harry yelled. "But its Draco! He's always saying something!"

Snape rolled his eyes, before focusing his eyes once more on Harry. He was calmer when he spoke next. "Harry, whenever Draco has said something offensive to you before you've always remembered it. And on those occasions you've told me what he's said, I have always dealt with him. Correct?"

Harry was reluctant to nod, but slowly did so.

"Then why would this time be any different?"

Harry shrugged, not able to meet the professor's eyes. His fingers scratched the cream colored suede of the couch as his eyes followed the patterns his nails made.

"All right, enough." Snape said, decisively.

Harry looked over at his guardian. Harry watched as Snape stood up and moved towards him. A thin hand reached menacingly towards him, not unlike a demon hand reaching up from the underworld to drag him to Hades. Harry immediately flinched back, his eyes closing tightly as he pushed himself into the couch awaiting the slap he was sure would come.

Instead of the sound of flesh hitting flesh followed by a sharp sting, Harry felt fingers twisting into the shoulder of his shirt followed by a quick jerk, which had him up and stumbling to find his footing. Snape's hand never released him however and before he was completely balanced he felt himself being pulled towards the hall.

Harry couldn't stop the whimper as he was dragged towards the bedroom he shared with Draco. Snape had yet to raise a hand to either him or Draco, but Harry knew Snape would one day. Today was going to be that day. Snape was no different than his Aunt and Uncle.

"Please," Harry pleaded, trying desperately to twist out of Snape's grasp. "I'm sorry!"

Snape said nothing, continuing to drag Harry down the hall pausing only to open the door of Harry and Draco's room.

Harry could see nothing but blurs through his tears as he was shoved onto his bed. He immediately curled into a ball, his arms stretched over his head and his chin tucked into his chest. He tried to listen to Snape's yelling, but Harry couldn't make sense of the words. Tears rolled down his cheeks and every muscle in his body tensed awaiting the blows he knew would come.

When warm hands began tugging at his arms Harry kicked out without conscious thought. He didn't think about the action, he merely fought. Survival instincts taking over he kicked out again and again, while still trying to keep his head covered. After what seemed like an eternity of fighting off whatever was touching him, Harry's adrenal glands seemed to run dry. He couldn't bring himself to fight anymore. It didn't matter anyway, his Uncle or the bullies always outlasted him. They never seemed to grow tired, whereas Harry's arms and legs suddenly felt like dead weights. Giving one final kick, Harry collapsed, suddenly too exhausted to move.

His glasses had come off at some point so his vision was blurred from more than just his tears. When the hands were able to tug his now listless arms away from his head Harry had no way of seeing who their owner was. Every bit of his energy had been spent, so when a vial was pressed to his lips he merely swallowed its contents.

From the way Harry began to feel his heart beat slowly, and the tears stop, he guessed he'd been given a calming draught. He continued to lie on the bed taking slow deep breaths as the fog in his mind cleared. A moment latter a hand moved towards his face, and despite the calming draught, he flinched. The hand paused for a moment as though unsure it should continue its journey. As the hand came closer he realized it was holding his glasses, but Harry couldn't find the energy to put them on himself. He was completely drained. It was as if someone had let all the air out of a balloon, and left the empty shriveled shell of the toy lying on the ground to be tread upon.

The glasses slide onto his face awkwardly, and rested slightly ajar on his nose, but Harry didn't care. Harry wondered briefly if his sudden impassivity was a result of the calming draught, but that thought was quickly pushed to the side before it reached completion. Without bothering to adjust his glasses Harry glanced up to see Snape standing over him. Draco was behind Snape standing off to the side, but watching Harry carefully.

Snape's eyes narrowed and his headed tilted to one side slightly, as though trying to work through a complicated puzzle. Harry watched as he opened his mouth to say something, before quickly shutting it again.

A moment latter Snape crossed his arms over his chest and spoke softly. "Rest, Harry. We'll talk more when you wake up."

Harry sucked in a deep breath and only the calming draught in his system kept him from going into another panic attack. He couldn't sleep. Not now, not after everything that had just happened. Harry bit his bottom lip to stop its trembling and squeezed his eyes shut. Turning his head violently from side to side only caused his glasses to dislodge once more. He couldn't go to sleep. He couldn't stand the nightmares again.

Fingers sliding through his hair stopped the motion of his head. The hand continued to move through his hair and Harry couldn't help but enjoy the new gesture.

"Nightmares again, Harry?" Snape asked, softly, never stopping his hand.

Harry gave a small nod, afraid that if he moved too much, Snape would stop and leave him. And the only thing worse then the nightmares was being alone with them; being trapped in his own mind assaulted by memory after memory. Sleep was nothing but a snare, lying in wait until it was inevitably trod over, causing it to snap close holding its victim fast. At times, Harry truly did wish to chew his way out of it.

"When was the last time you slept?" Harry heard Snape ask above him, even as he fought the pull of sleep Snape's hand was luring him into.

"Don't know," muttered Harry, bringing his hand up him rubbed his eyes. "I've tried, but they just…and I can't go back to sleep afterwards."

Harry whimpered as Snape's hand left his hair. He curled up tighter into a ball, his fingers digging into the bed sheets. He heard the man moving around the room briefly, as well as a mumbled spell. He didn't have time to process what the spell was however before a blanket settled over him. He felt the bed dip next to him and Snape's hand lifted his head slightly, pressing a vial against his lips.

Harry knew from the taste that it was a potion to allow him a dreamless sleep. Before giving in to the exhaustion he nestled his head into Snape's hand, committing the feeling of warmth and safety to memory.