He hadn't planned on acting as a counselor this evening. When he asked Harry what was unfair, he was expecting a whining complaint about the issuance of a detention, not the thoughts of a boy who had listened to a world that told him he wasn't good enough, wasn't normal enough, wasn't the same as everyone else. He thought back to the papers he read, the ones that said things about kids like Harry being locked in their own world, incapable of understanding what was going on around them, and he shook his head at how wrong they were. Harry could tell the world didn't want him to be himself. Harry picked up that he was viewed as something less than rather than equal to. And Harry had hoped, not unreasonably, that the magical world would be different than his Muggle experiences only to find himself in an even more confusing and hostile place.

A world where people were literally trying to kill him.

Perhaps if the boy had not been Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, things would be different and people would more accepting of his differences. Perhaps the boy would be met halfway rather than expected to match the expectations of those who wished to use him as a weapon in the war. Perhaps his teachers would be more willing to work with the boy's strengths rather than constantly point out his weaknesses. There was no doubt that Harry had the makings of a powerful wizard; Dumbledore's reports of the boy's accidental magic were astounding: apparating to the top of a school when in danger? Most adult wizards couldn't manage that without practice, not if they didn't want to get splinched. What was in doubt was the ability of his teachers to take that raw talent and help mold it into what they wanted, what the wizarding world needed.

Snape shook his head. It wouldn't do to get caught up in thinking of What-Ifs and Might-Have-Beens. It wouldn't help anyone, especially not Harry. Snape knew Harry was struggling because of how he was being taught, not because he was the lazy, sloppy student his other teachers seemed to see. The boy was perfectly capable of learning magic if the right methods were used. If the current ones that worked for most students weren't working, then they obviously needed to try different methods. Harry needed patience and understanding, not pity, and definitely not any more voices telling him he wasn't good enough. What was that Muggle saying? Something about fitting a square peg in a round hole?

And those boys, his housemates, already ganging up on him-it made Snape a bit nervous, if he were to be honest with himself. Nervous because those boys were plotting things with boys from Slytherin, with Malfoy. Nothing good would come from that particular alliance, even if it did look completely innocent at the moment.

Severus sighed as Harry stopped his explanation of the atrocious behavior he had experienced at the hands of his peers and teachers, both Muggle and magical. He might not know exactly how Harry was feeling, but he certainly understood what it meant to be ostracized, belittled, bullied, and not wanted by anyone at home.

"Sir, I don't understand why people see a Fake Harry. Why don't they see the Real Harry?"

Snape paused.

"Harry, what do you know of how your mother-your parents-died? Of how you came to live your with aunt and how you got that scar on your forehead?"

Harry's brow furrowed and he became noticeably agitated. Severus grabbed Harry's hands and held them in his own. Harry seemed to appreciate the gesture and relaxed again, taking a deep breath before continuing.

"Well, Aunt Petunia told me they died in a car crash, but Hagrid told me they were murdered by someone named Lord Vold-sorry, I forgot I am not supposed to say that name even though Dumbledore-"

"Professor Dumbledore, Harry" interjected Snape.

"Yeah, him. He said not saying the name gave it more power. I used to get awfully confused when people said 'You-Know-Who,' instead of the real name, but Professor Dumbledore explained it all. So Lord You-Know-Who killed my parents and tried to kill me."

Snape felt Harry's agitation and started tracing circles over the top of Harry's hands with his thumbs.

"But I didn't die. And Professor Dumbledore says it is because my mother loved me and that made it so I killed that bad man instead."

Snape waited to see if there was more, but the boy seemed done.

"Yes, the Dark Lord used the Killing Curse on you, but it rebounded and hit him instead. And you did the impossible that night, Harry. You are the only person who has survived the Killing Curse."

Harry giggled, and Snape raised his eyebrows. How was that funny?

"What is funny, Harry?" he asked.

"It shouldn't be called the Killing Curse then, should it, Professor Snape?" Harry asked. "Maybe it should be called the Usually Fatal Curse instead."

Snape swallowed the small smile that appeared, unbidden and unwelcome. He would allow that smile when Harry wasn't present, but for now, he was in Teacher Mode.

"Potter, you shouldn't laugh at death. It is uncouth, even if you have happened to achieve the impossible, or rather, given the outcome, the improbable."

Harry nodded, and Snape could almost see him filing that information away.

"It is because of those two events, your survival and your apparent defeat of the Dark Lord, that the wizarding world views you as a hero," continued Snape.

"The title they've bestowed upon you, and the resulting lens most have chosen to view you through rather than look at you as a normal boy, is how they recognize that act of ending the violence of the war. That scar on your forehead is the result of surviving the attack. That's the 'Fake Harry' you are referring to, is it not, Mr. Potter?"

Harry nodded.

"There are people who see past all that, you know," Snape continued after a few moments.

"Yeah, Ron and Hermione," whispered Harry.

"Yes. Your friends do not see you as a symbol, Harry."

"But most people just see my scar, huh?"

"It is unfortunate, but yes, most people choose to see who they want you to be and do not bother themselves with looking at who you actually are."

There was no response from the boy, but Severus could tell he was struggling to put his thoughts into words. Snape started tracing circles on the boy's hands again.

"Is the scar why I am such a freak, Professor Snape?" asked Harry after a few false starts.

Snape felt his heart constrict at the forlorn expression on the boy's face, in the boy's eyes. No, he corrected himself, in Lily's eyes.

"Harry, do not refer to yourself that way."

"But-"

"No, Harry, you will not refer to yourself as a 'freak.'" Snape found himself growing angry at the Muggles that had dared instill such low self-worth in the boy, in Lily's boy.

"You are not a freak, Harry."

"Fine. Not a 'freak' then."

Harry wrenched his hands from Severus's and began pacing in the aisle between the work benches. Snape just watched. It would do neither of them any good to force physical contact; he was too agitated at the boy's miserable relatives and the boy wanted space.

"Is the scar why I am so different?" Harry asked again after a few more minutes of silence.

Snape sighed again. He thought he knew what Harry was asking.

"You mean, is surviving the Killing Curse why you have what Muggles call Autism, Harry?"

Harry nodded.

"I-I do not know."

"Oh."

Snape felt that unfamiliar ache in his chest again at the boy's dejected tone.

"Harry, you are unique in the wizarding world."

Harry snorted.

"'Unique' is the word people use when it isn't polite to say 'weird' or 'stupid' or 'special,' Professor."

Snape winced at the boy's sneering tone.

"Be that as it may, in this case, I am using it to define you as being the only person in the wizarding world to have Autism. We had not heard of it until you accepted your place at Hogwarts. From what I have read, it seems quite prevalent amongst Muggles. You even attended a school chartered specifically to teach those with Autism, not unlike Hogwarts was commissioned to teach magic to young witches and wizards."

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Snape interrupted him.

"Let me finish, Harry. Do you know much about genetics and heritability?"

The boy nodded. Snape allowed himself a small smile. Of course Harry knew about genetics. He was bound to have come across it while satisfying his insatiable curiosity of all things relating to chemistry. Harry probably understood more about genetics than he did, not that it would be difficult.

"Muggles also think there is a genetic origin. If this is true, then perhaps magic is the reason there are no other known witches or wizards with Autism. Perhaps magic acts in such a way as to nullify the mutation. This is just a theory, mind you, not a fact."

Harry nodded again.

"It is possible, then, that when you were hit with the Killing Curse it disrupted and changed your magic in such a way as to render it unable to behave as it would normally."

Snape paused. He hadn't voiced that theory to anyone until just then. It seemed plausible, but he had no way of disproving it and therefore no way to test for its scientific accuracy.

"So that means I will always be this way, won't I?"

"If by 'this way' you mean intelligent, determined, courageous, and unflinchingly honest, then yes, Harry, you will always be that way."

Snape was rewarded for his uncharacteristic praise with a breathtaking grin. Oh yes, he could definitely get used to those. The boy lost almost all semblance to his blasted father when he smiled liked that.

Wanting to end the evening on a high note, he decided against having Harry scrub the cauldrons he had meant for him to do that evening. It was nearing the end of their scheduled detention anyway, and he had no desire to cause Harry to have a meltdown by forcing him to stay later than his pocket watch was telling him.

After sending Harry on his way, Snape sat there, wondering why he, the greasy git of the dungeons, was the one Harry felt most comfortable talking to, and why he, the feared potions master, was the one who was willing and able to provide counsel and comfort to the Chosen One of the wizarding world.

Perhaps the boy could tell that he was able to look past the scar and see the real Harry.