Snape retired to his room, the minute they returned from Mrs. Cook's. Not surprising, considering how tired the man looked. Whatever the old woman had given the professor seemed to have shaken him.

Truthfully, the slamming door and Lupin's inability to open it left Harry feeling shaken. It had been stuck fast for less than five minutes, but those five minutes seemed like hours.

Harry had stood motionless, feeling the panic rising up from his gut, feeling utterly useless without his wand, while Lupin banged on the door and tried different unlocking hexes. Harry was overwhelmed by the harsh realization that if something happened to Snape, he'd didn't know what he'd do.

At that moment he hadn't had time to examine the thought. Now though, as he lay in his bed with Snuffles lying at his feet, he went back to it.

Before the last two weeks, Harry would never have cared what happened to Snape. Well, he supposed he'd care, but in a vague, don't-like-to-see-bad-things-happen-to-people sort of way.

This feeling, though. This was like the feeling he'd had last year when he'd seen Ginny lying still and motionless on the floor of the Chamber of Secrets. A cold, leaden knot in his stomach that threatened to rise up and strangle him.

Harry sighed and flopped over onto his side. The room was very dark. Not even a sliver of a moon showed tonight and Spinner's End had only a very few street lights. The only other light was a small night light in the bathroom that Snape said was there so they didn't break their necks in the dark. He'd put it there after the incident with the rope.

Hedwig was out for the evening. Harry had sent letters for both Ron and Hermione off with her. She'd been in a bit of a bad mood since Professor Lupin had brought Snuffles. Harry assumed she was jealous of the dog, going so far as to clack her beak threateningly, when Snuffles came too close.

With a little half smile, Harry thought that his familiars were well matched to his minders. They, like the two professors, only seemed to get along for Harry's sake. Each familiar had even picked a favorite professor.

Hedwig seemed to like Snape. On at least one occasion accepting scratches and treats from the man, with a dignified air. Lupin seemed to frighten her. It had happened tonight when the Professor came up to check on him. The owl had been sitting on the headboard, lazily preening. When Lupin had come in through the open door, she'd fluffed herself up and rather than her usual hoot, she made an alarmed, "Krek, krek, krek" noise. Lupin was careful to stay a good distance away from her.

On the other hand, Snuffles seemed to think it was possible that he'd need to protect Harry from Snape. He kept a very close eye on the man, never aggressive, but very wary. The professor was aware of it and was careful around Snuffles, always taking care to never look the dog in the eye, raise his voice, or move a hand too quickly near either Harry or the animal. Harry had heard Aunt Marge telling Dudley that those were things to be avoided around unfriendly dogs. The dog much preferred Lupin, but that was probably because the man liked to give Snuffles treats.

Now that he thought about it, though, maybe Snape was just being careful of Harry. In fact, both the men were treating Harry as if he were fragile.

As much as Harry hated to admit it, he felt fragile. If one of the teacher's voices even edged toward being a little stern, Harry could feel a lump in his throat and a flutter of panic in his chest.

Harry rolled over to his other side, unable to get comfortable. Snuffles whined a little and laid his heavy head on the boy's hip. The dog's weight was calming, helping him feel more centered, less likely to lose it emotionally.

The other bedroom door opened and closed. He heard Snape's slow footsteps in the hallway. Harry hadn't been allowed to close his door since the whole hanging thing, so he could hear every sound in the house, it seemed.

The bathroom door opened, shut. The toilet flushed and the bathroom door opened again.

Rather than heading back to Snape's room, the footsteps came into his room. The boy decided he wasn't going to chance getting into another conversation with the man, so he just closed his eyes and pretended to sleep.

Snape pulled the chair over and sat in it. For a long time, the potion's master just sat there. It was getting a bit creepy to be stared at like this, it seemed to be a habit with the Professor. He just couldn't stop looking at Harry like he was some kind of bug.

Snape sighed. Harry nearly jumped at the sound, so loud it seemed, in the quiet room.

"Harry, I'm so sorry." he whispered, so softly that Harry was almost sure he must be imagining it, "I swear..." Snape broke off. Sighed again.

Snuffles shifted restlessly, picking his head up.

"Yes, yes." Muttered Snape, "I won't wake your master. Stupid dog." The last was said with no rancor at all, the tone of his voice calming and gentle. Almost fond, "Bloody thing. If you weren't so good for the child, I wouldn't give you house room."

Harry heard the man stand up. Snuffle's head came back down to rest on Harry's hip. Then, the man did the strangest thing; Snape gently pulled the blankets up so they covered Harry's shoulders. Snuffles head went up again. Harry could feel the dog stiffen, but at least he didn't growl.

The child was hard pressed to lie still, realizing with some astonishment that the man was tucking him in. Done with that, his hand brushed the hair out of Harry's eyes, reminding Harry of how Snape had played the part of the Storyteller the other night.

Without saying anything else, the wizard slowly made his way back to his own room. The bedroom door opened and shut.

Harry wasn't at all sure what to make of that. Something about the gesture made Harry feel...he wasn't sure what. It was such on oddly affectionate thing to do. Everything else Snape had done for Harry was done out of the man's sense of Duty, to help keep him calm, or because he was ill. Those things made sense.

This time, though...this time Snape seemed to be tucking Harry in the same way Mrs Weasley had tucked Ron and him in last summer. Because Ron would always tell his mum he was too old to be fussed over, she'd give him a quick peck on the cheek before bed. About an hour after that, long after Ron was asleep, Mrs. Weasley would sneak in and tuck them in. Sometimes she'd stand and stare at them first. It was odd enough that Harry had actually asked Ron about it. He'd shrugged and said that his mum always said she felt like she wanted to make sure they were all still breathing.

Harry wondered if it were just something parents did, then. He wouldn't know.

It was odd that Snape should do it, too

Harry spent a long time staring into the darkened room, grateful for the little light in the hallway.

The next day or two were quiet, as the three of them fell into a kind of routine. Harry and Lupin generally got up and made breakfast. Lupin would attempt to engage Harry in conversation and Harry would give the shortest answers he could, then he'd escape. To read Tales of Beadle the Bard, or maybe write letters, or else just sit with Snuffles and stare at the wall.

Around lunchtime, Snape would come down, eat something, spend an hour glaring at Lupin, and then go back to bed. He'd repeat it at dinnertime, except he'd sit with them for an hour or two in the living room, watching the television.

Clearly, Snape understood that the television was the best way to avoid conversation with people who had to live in the same house. Harry always preferred it, when the Dursleys were immersed in the thing. Although, it perhaps didn't work as well as Snape hoped. The man seemed to like police shows, and Lupin kept asking Snape to explain things.

After a day, Harry thought he had regained his knack of getting adults to forget his existence.

Not all the way, sadly. Lupin sometimes sent Harry outside by himself, to walk Snuffles, Mostly, he came with them. Being outside was less oppressive to Harry. It was easier to stop listening to Lupin when they were outside. For the most part, Harry just tuned him out, answering the man's questions in grunts and monosyllables, feeling like nothing was very real.

Very likely, he could have gone on like this indefinitely, except that the professors apparently grew tired of his lack of communication.

After dinner, about ten days after...the event...(Harry still couldn't name it to himself), Professor Lupin stopped Harry, before he could flee back to his room.

"Harry?" the man said, "I wonder if we could talk?" he beckoned Harry to sit back down at the table.

Professor Snape was sat drinking tea at the table. He still looked worn, but he seemed a little brighter today. He'd gotten up for breakfast and it looked as if he intended to stay up for the afternoon. He and Lupin had had some sort of little conference in the sitting room that morning.

Snape had some awareness of the acoustics of the house, because Harry had heard him hiss, "Not in here." when Lupin had tried to speak to the man in the kitchen.

Obediently, the boy sat down. He folded his hands in front of him on the table, looked at his interlaced fingers, rather than Lupin or Snape. He wondered, distantly, if the two men were finally going to tell him that he was far too much trouble to have around. Conversations that began with "We need to talk." were generally ones that would end badly for Harry.

That impression was reinforced when Professor Snape slid a cup of tea that had a slightly sock-like odor in front of him.

The child unclenched his hands and wrapped them around the mug of tea, instead. He glanced up at the man's black eyes as he sat across from him.

Snape must have done his mind reading thing again. He sighed and said, "Don't look like that, Harry. We're not planning on doing anything dire, and we're not sending you anywhere."

Lupin pulled a chair around, so he sat at the end of the table, "No, of course not." He agreed, "I just wanted to talk about a few things I recovered from your Aunt and Uncle's house."

Harry quickly took a sip of the sock flavored tea. There was a slightly bitter taste to it today, that the milk and sugar couldn't quite cover up. He felt his hands relax and his heart slow, "All right." he said, quietly. There was a real advantage to being the ward of a potions master, Harry thought. The potions that Snape kept giving him helped him sleep through the night, without waking up in cold sweat. Now, the calming draught he'd spiked Harry's tea with was welcome. It would help getting through what would otherwise be a nerve wracking conversation.

Lupin produced a plain manila file folder, like Muggles used. He opened it. Inside were several photographs, Lupin handed Harry the top one.

It was a picture of the inside of a tiny cupboard, cleaning supplies on shelves on the back wall. A bare electric light bulb illuminated the place. A dirty, crib sized mattress lay on the floor, with a blanket folded up on top of it. The only motion in the picture was a spider crawling across the bare floor and another crawling on the tacked up paper that read "Harry's Room". A few broken toys were neatly stacked on the milk crate beside the mattress.

Harry's heart would have lurched if it wasn't for the calming draught.

"Could you tell me about this Harry?" Lupin asked, softly.

"What's to tell?" Harry asked, dully, "That's where I lived until I got my Hogwart's letters. Uncle Vernon was afraid the wizards were watching us." He laughed; a short, harsh, mirthless sound, "Of course, they weren't. Or else they didn't care about it."

He dared a glance at the two men. Lupin had a worried frown. Snape wore the look Harry recognized. It was the look he'd worn when he'd caught Harry and Ron sneaking in the castle after they'd borrowed Ron's dad's car last year. His face was white, his lips pressed together.

"This is where you lived?" He hissed in a low, dangerous voice.

Harry stared at him, "I told you that." he said, a little defensively, "A freak like me needs to be locked up." he stopped. He hadn't meant to say that last bit.

"You do realize how inappropriate that was, don't you?" Lupin put a restraining hand on Snape's wrist, but looked at Harry.

"What was inappropriate about it?" asked Harry, unable, for some reason, to give his usual shrug, and the expected answer, "It's not like they wanted me there."

"How often were you locked in?" Snape asked, in a deadly calm voice.

"Every day, pretty much." Harry shrugged now. Distantly, some part of his brain was yelling shutupshutupSHUTUP! It didn't seem important at the moment, however, "I told you that. If I wasn't at school, or they didn't want me doing something for them." he paused, reflectively, "Sometimes they let me have my school books. The teachers called them, if I wasn't able to do my homework for too many days. If I had them, I had something to do."

Harry sipped his tea some more, trying to remember where he'd tasted the bitterness before. Both the professors were looking ill.

Lupin bravely soldiered on. He pulled out another photograph, "Will you tell me about this one?"

This one was a picture of a door, with seven locks on the outside, "That's Dudley's second bedroom." Harry replied. He'd never thought of it as his room, even when all the broken Dudley junk had been carted off to the tip, "I've slept there the past two summers."

"Why the locks?" asked Lupin.

Harry couldn't believe the man had to ask, "Well, to keep me in. To stop me from being a nuisance."

"What were their complaints?" Snape asked, in that hiss.

Harry smiled a little, "About the same as yours, Professor." Oh god, why had he said that? "I'm an arrogant little bastard, who thinks I'm better than everyone else. I'm not good for anything, I'll never amount to anything and it would be better for everyone if I just cut my throat. I tried once, but it hurts a lot." he added, conversationally. The distant voice in his head was still telling him to shut up. He would have stopped talking all together, if he could have, "I suppose you didn't want me to actually kill myself, while I was here, did you?" Harry couldn't seem to stop every stray thought in his head from coming out of his mouth, "I can wait until we get back to school...The Astronomy Tower is pretty high. Or, maybe I'll just make it look like an accident...You know, a fall from my broom."

Harry didn't realize, until he said it, that he'd been thinking of that all term.

The two men stared at him.

He laughed, bitterly, the two Professors jumped, "You said I've got a death wish, Professor. You're pretty much spot on about that. I wish the Baslisk had gotten me, last year. At least then, people would have said nice things about me, when I was dead." he smiled a little, "I told Hermione that the Dursleys would be disappointed that I hadn't managed to get myself killed."

Lupin stirred, "Harry, you know that what the Dursleys said and did was abuse?"

The "A word" again.

"Well, yeah, if I'd been normal, I guess." Harry replied quietly, "I mean, its not like they can hurt me, really, is it?"

"What do you mean?" Snape asked curiously.

"Just that..." Again, Harry was surprised they would actually have to ask, "I can take it. You know? I mean, things just don't hurt me as much as they would someone normal."

Snape's expression had gone blank, after a moment he said, "I assure you, Harry, wizards may heal more quickly than Muggles and we may be a bit more durable, but we feel pain quite as acutely as they."

Harry scoffed, "Don't be stupid." The voice of his better sense gave up telling him to shut up. Instead, it told him that calling Snape stupid would certainly grant his death wish, "I'm even a freak of a wizard. No one else ever survived a Killing Curse. I wish..." he trailed off, suddenly feeling much less foggy than he had been feeling for days. With the ebbing of the numbness, a sharp pain seemed to lance through him. Physical or emotional, he couldn't tell, but his heart hurt.

"What do you wish?" asked Snape, again in that weird, gentle way.

Harry looked down at his tea cup, surprised that it was empty. He swallowed against a sudden lump in his throat, "I just wish that I could be normal. I wish my parents hadn't died. I wish that I could figure out how to stop being such a fuck up. I wish I'd never heard of The Boy Who Lived." the lump spilled over. Tears started down his cheeks.

Fortunately, it didn't seem like his lunch was about to make a reappearance.

Lupin and Snape glanced at each other, while Harry swiped irritably at his face."

"How...ah...how often did you go without meals?" asked Lupin, after a moment.

"Not that often." said Harry, happy to talk about something else, "Just, you know, once or twice a week."

"Molly Weasley said that the twins told her, they were starving you." The frown line between the professor's eyebrows got deeper.

"Oh, you know the twins." Harry replied, "They were exaggerating."

Snape and Lupin both seemed to relax a bit, so Harry went on, "I got a can of soup every day." he stopped, thinking about it, "Maybe, not every day. Most days."

He yawned, "Sorry, tired." he muttered, "Don't know why..." The bit of Harry's brain that had been telling him to shut up suddenly caught on. He looked up at Snape, "You gave me something, didn't you?" he said it without heat, because nothing much seemed that important, at the moment, "Why did you do that?"

Lupin looked guilty, but Snape nodded soberly, "I thought it would be beneficial to get some reliable information out of you. You haven't spoken two words put together, to either of us, in days."

"You really are a bastard, aren't you?" Harry said, irritably, not able to really get angry.

Snape smirked, "I'll let the language and the disrespect go, for now. I am well aware that this particular potion removes one's internal censor. I promise you, I won't be so lenient any other time."

At that, Harry felt compelled to continue, "Yeah, but you're the only one who's ever kept their promises. I...appreciate that. I never had anyone sit with me when I was sick, or let me pick what I wanted to eat, or get me clothes. You're a bastard, but...well, you've done more for me than anyone else." Now that Harry was on the subject, he started rattling on some more, "I used to think that Dumbledore liked me. A bit, anyway. But, I don't think he'd've sent me back if he did. Fudge said that Dumbledore said I had to go back."

"You mean the night you blew up your aunt?" asked Lupin. He was white knuckling his tea mug, now. Harry thought he ought to ask Snape for a calming draught, "Tell me, what happened that night?"

Harry shrugged, "Everyone already knows. What's the point?"

"I know that you ran away from home, and you were taken back." Snape's voice had gone back to its usual acerbic tone, "I don't know in detail what happened next."

"You saw." Muttered Harry. Then, the urge to keep talking overwhelmed him again, "Uncle Vernon backhanded me, after Fudge left. Aunt Marge didn't have a proper cane, so she found a bit of curtain rod, I think. Showed Uncle Vernon how to use it."

"Curtain rod?" Snape asked. Both men looked aghast.

"Oh, not the big rods that hold up the heavy curtains." Harry hastened to explain, "Just one of those ones that hold up the little lacy curtains in the kitchen. They're made of plastic and they have some bend in them. Aunt Marge broke the one on me. Uncle Vernon used his belt that night. Mrs. Figg saw the bruise he left on my face, the next day. He went and found a proper cane after that."

Lupin swallowed, "How often?" he asked, sounding perfectly calm, but his jaw was taut and Harry thought he saw something a gleam of something hard and sharp in his eyes.

"Just once a day. Usually." It was so tiring, all this questioning. Harry put his elbows on the table and leaned his head on his hands.

"I assure you, the headmaster knew nothing about your Uncle's treatment of you." Snape said, seriously.

Harry wanted to scoff, but Snape hadn't lied to him yet, "You think?" he asked, in a small voice. The lump was back, "I just reckoned that he was tired of my fuck ups. And, Fudge did tell them I needed it."

"Harry," Lupin seemed a little exasperated, "I don't think Fudge meant it the way your uncle interpreted it, at all. I think he'd be horrified at how you were treated."

"But, I told Shacklebolt that my Uncle was going to beat the hell out of me. He was really nice, but he said Dumbledore..."

Snape growled, low in his throat, so Harry stopped talking. Lupin gave the man a warning look.

"How often did they feed you?" Snape was staring at him, again.

Again, the change of topic was a relief, "Hmm...most days?"

"Ah. Perhaps I should ask, what did they feed you?" Snape snapped.

"Tea and toast, mostly. Some days the tea was still warm. See, Fudge told them I had too much energy. They reckoned I was eating too much. Sometimes, Aunt Petunia gave me a sandwich, though. She'd leave it for me in my room. She's done that before, when I was on punishment, you see. Sometimes, I had sandwiches waiting for me in my cupboard."

Lupin and Snape gave each other a sharp glance, "You saw her leave the food?" Lupin pressed him.

Harry shook his head. Weary beyond belief, he put his head down on the table, on his folded arms, "Tired." he repeated, feeling a pleasant weariness weighing his limbs down.

"That's all we're likely to get out of him, today." Snape's voice said. A hand gently stroked his hair.

"Severus!" Lupin's voice was a harsh whisper, "Did you use that truth potion on him?"

"Don't be a fool. Of course, I did." Snape whispered back.

They must have moved a little ways away. Harry heard them speaking in normal voices in the hallway. Curious, he fought back the wave of sleepiness, to listen to their conversation.

"We'll be lucky if he ever trusts us again." Lupin sounded furious, "You shouldn't have done that without telling me, at least."

"You haven't had any luck in getting him talking, have you?" Snape demanded.

"You had no right..."

"I had every right, I'm the boy's fa-" Snape broke off, suddenly. He started again, in a quieter, less angry voice, "The child is my responsibility. I refuse to watch him self destruct. I will get him through this, no matter what it takes."

Hearing that gave Harry a strangely warm feeling in his chest. At the moment, he couldn't even find it in him to be angry about the truth potion.

He heard Lupin sigh, "Yes, all right. But, you do see my point now, don't you?"

"Yes, Lupin. Tell Molly and Arthur that we'll visit them over Halloween." Snape sounded resigned, "Clearly, we can't do without help while you're...away."

Harry turned that around in his head, wondering where Lupin would be going. He decided he wasn't all that interested and drifted further to sleep.

Sometime later, Harry felt a tingle of magic across his skin, then himself being picked up, with an arm under his knees and another under his shoulders, to be cradled against someone's chest.

"Severus? I really think you should let me do that." Lupin was saying, very softly.

"Don't be ridiculous." Snape replied, just as softly, "I made him quite light enough."

The magic Harry felt must have been a hover charm or featherlight charm. He couldn't summon the energy to care, really. He was still so tired. He snuggled into the chest of the person holding him.

"Shhh. Go back to sleep. You're fine." Snape's voice rumbled against Harry's cheek. Snape was holding him and he felt the man's unsteady gait as he climbed the stairs.

A soft hoot greeted them as Snape lay Harry down on his bed, "Hello, Hedwig. Quiet now. Your master is in need of his sleep." Snape said, "You too, ridiculous animal."

Harry felt Snuffles jump onto the bed. Then, Harry's jeans and sweatshirt became abruptly softer and looser. Snape had used a switching spell to replace them with his pajamas.

The last thing Harry heard that night was the scrape and creak of the chair, telling him that Snape had sat down in it, again.