It was a struggle not to let his mind wander up to the East attic during classes though when he was feeling overworked, or when he started to feel a little jealous seeing his friends all riding new brooms while he rode a broom half as fast as his old Firebolt during practice. It was hard at the end of the day when his supply of candy was gone or when he looked at himself in the mirror between classes and realized yet again that he could not continue to eat candy all day because his face was rounding out too much and his jeans were starting to get too tight.

Harry let out a sigh as he passed by the attic entrance for the second time that day. By all rights he shouldn't even be in that corridor, his classes were all on the other side of the castle. He'd tried to stay away, tried not to put himself in this position of being so close to something he really wasn't supposed to have... but here he was. Harry stared at the tapestry he knew held the hidden entrance. The longer he stared at it, the more he craved the red dirt, and the harder he had to fight with himself not to push the tapestry aside and go on a hunt for what he felt like was the devil himself.

One part of his brain was trying to reason with the other half. One side said, you can handle it, they made too big a deal out of all of this, and the other side begged him not to go, not to be that guy again. One side said, you need it to feel good about yourself, because you can't give your friends a new broom every day to feel right about who you are, and the other side begged him to remember that his father was going on faith that he would stay out of trouble. For long moments he stood there, not sure which side would win out, and when he finally took a step back, mentally pulling himself from the battle raging inside, he realized he was sweating and his hands were shaking.
Harry hurried away from that corridor, determined not to go back again, but wishing that he could. It was a horrible feeling to know he didn't want to do it, but also that he did, and he didn't think anyone would understand. None of his friends knew what had happened to him that weekend that he disappeared into his father's quarters, or that he had anything to do with the expulsion of that seventh year. He'd done some fancy sidestepping with words with Ron when he'd asked why the Headmaster had come to ask him about the Ravenclaw just before he got expelled, and in the end Ron seemed none the wiser.

Feeling the need to be as far away from the East attic as possible, Harry headed straight out through the front doors in the main Entrance hall and sat on the cold stone steps. It was almost dinner time, and he wished he didn't have this free period to contend with each day, in which he had plentiful time to wrestle with his desires. Hermione had roped Ron into an extra course this term, and Draco was in Herbology with the Hufflepuffs. He guessed he'd just wait here for Draco to get out of class in an hour as the sun began to set lazily in the sky. Fall was fully upon them now and winter was coming fast, and Harry shivered in a cold breeze. He had only bought the basic necessities in Hogsmead over the summer to replace his old clothes, and a coat hadn't been on the list.

Just as his mind was drifting back up to the East attic again, there was movement beside him and he was surprised to find his father taking a seat next to him on the steps.

"I have not seen much of you lately."

Harry rubbed his bare arms in an effort to make the goose bumps he had go away. "Been busy I guess," he said, looking down at his shoes. He hadn't been to see him because he was still embarrassed and ashamed that he'd whacked him over the back of the head with ‘The Compendium of Magical Beasts in European Culture.'

"You have not been making potions anymore."

Harry shook his head.

"Hm."

They sat in silence for a few moments before Severus gave Harry a not so discreet looking over, and asked, "How have you been?"

Harry had to work hard not to take in a deep breath then, because the truth was, not so good. The more he craved the dirt, the worse he felt, and the more he began to believe he really was a terrible person. He knew his father didn't believe that, but he really did believe that about himself.

"I can't keep eating candy," Harry said. "It makes it so I can't concentrate in class, and I'm gaining weight."

"Yes, you're finally starting to fill out."

"More than that," Harry said.

"Unfortunately I don't know of anything else to help the cravings."

Harry sighed. Maybe it was better to just start drinking the dirt then. It would take care of his cravings and he wouldn't be sucking down candy like water anymore.

"I also have nothing to do in the hour and a half before dinners, if you wish to do something with me in the late afternoons. Perhaps giving yourself something to do will help take your mind off of other things."

Harry looked over at him, surprised. While the animosity was gone now in light of their new relationship, Harry still didn't think his father had a desire to spend time with him. He was reminded of walking around the lake after a fight with the Headmaster and skipping stones, but that seemed far away, like it might not have even happened.

"I'm still not a complete basket case you know," Harry said, aware, that he had been showing this side of himself recently.

"Did I imply that you were?"

"No- I just thought that might be why-"

When Harry didn't finish, Severus did it for him. "Why I wanted to spend time with my son?"

Harry shrugged.

"Perhaps I have lost time to make up for. Perhaps I have need to show you I have a side other than... the basket case side."

Harry looked sideways at him then out of the corner of his eyes and couldn't help but to burst out in laughter for a moment, and it surprised him to see his father allow a small smile to cross his face as well.

"Well, what do you want to do then?"

Severus pulled out a pocket watch, and then said, "We have forty minutes until the last class of the day gets out. There is just enough time to go to Hogsmead and buy a coat."

Harry shivered again then at the mention of the new coat his father would buy for himself, before Harry realized who the man was looking at. "Oh, ok," he said.

They stood up and slowly walked down the lawns towards Hogsmead. It felt good to be away from the castle, Harry realized, and to be out with Snape, even if it was a little awkward letting the man buy new things for him. By the time they got back, Harry had a new sweat jacket, a heavy winter coat, a winter hat, gloves, and a heavy pair of boots which his father promised he would pour water proofing potion over tomorrow afternoon if Harry brought them down to his quarters before dinner. Harry also had a pocketful of new candy from Honeydukes as well, which Severus had bought without protest from Harry when he saw his son's hands shaking despite wearing the new red gloves.

That night Harry lay in bed on top of the covers in the darkness of the dorm room, fighting with himself again not to sneak out of the dorms and go up to the East attic. It would be the easy thing to do, to go up there. He wouldn't even be cold when he got out of bed now, he reminded himself, spying the new brown hoodie draped over the back of his desk chair there in the darkness. He spent a sleepless night worrying about the red dirt, and when he rose the next morning with his friends, the only thing he had to look forward to that day was spending some time with his Potion's Professor before dinner. Between breakfast and dinner however, there was nothing to stop him from venturing up to the East attic, and he found himself passing the entrance and actually trying to psych himself into disappearing behind the tapestry. By his free period he was ready to abandon the time he was supposed to spend with his father to sneak up the stairs, but was intercepted by his father, who happened to be on his way out of the staff room and had spotted Harry.

"I have the water proofing potion ready," he said, and Harry allowed himself to be pulled along by the elder man's smile.

After pouring the potion over Harry's boots, Harry sat shoeless in Snape's quarters waiting for the boots to dry, eating licorice snaps and playing chess with his father. He lost three times before dinner, and was just pulling his boots back on when Severus handed him a package of Muggle gum.

"I had a friend owl this to me. I did not know what flavor you might like, but I thought it might help, as opposed to eating candy. I have heard that the chewing motion helps people quit smoking."

Harry took the package and stared at it. "Thanks," he said, feeling awkward.

"If it works, I will send away for more. Honeydukes doesn't carry gum."

"Ok." At dinner, as he halfheartedly listened to Ron and Ginny talking about how fast their new brooms were, Harry felt strange. His father certainly seemed to care about him, buying him the new winter garments and then the gum. He wasn't used to the Dursleys getting things like this for him just because they happened to think of him, and Sirius... well, he didn't want to go there right now.

* * *

The gum, it turned out, did not help, but once Harry had stopped eating the candy, he was determined not to go back. While it was nice having Snape buy things for him, he decided it was too awkward, and he didn't want him to have to buy him new pants on top of everything else, and Harry just didn't have the money to buy pants the next size... or two, up. So he let his father think that the gum was working, and Snape continued to order it in by owl for the next week. For Harry, getting off of the candy was like stepping on a sword, because it allowed the cravings to come back in full force. It took all of his will to concentrate on his classes through the day and on chess games with his father in the afternoons before dinner. At night he had to study until he was too tired to keep going, so he could go to sleep and not worry about keeping himself from sneaking out of the dorms.

"Are you all right?" Severus asked him a week and half after starting on the gum regime. Harry had just lost a fourth game of chess, and his hands were shaking.

Harry looked up and was aware that sweat was beading on his face.

"Fine," he said in an irritated voice. He started setting up the chess pieces again. It was Saturday night after dinner and his friends knew he wouldn't be back until later in the evening.

"You look unwell," Severus observed, and Harry felt even more irritated that he was prying for information.

"I'm fine," he said, setting the last black piece in place.

"Has the coat been keeping you warm enough? Do you feel feverish?"

Harry's hand stilled over the white pawn he had just placed on the board, and he looked up. His father wasn't asking him about the red dirt? He thought he had a cold?

"It's very warm," Harry said, irritation deflating a little.

Severus motioned for Harry to continue setting up the board and went into the kitchen, where he heard him preparing coffee and tea, and as Harry waited for him to return, he kicked himself mentally, feeling stupid. He still trusts me, he told himself. He hasn't been prying, he's been doing his best to trust me to stay away from temptation, and what have I been doing? I've been concealing the location of the red dirt, I've been making plans day after day to go and get it. I'm not worthy of his trust when the red dirt sits up in the attic waiting for me any time I want.

Just as Severus returned with a cup of coffee, and a cup of tea, Harry stood up and grabbed his back pack off the floor.

"My tea isn't that bad," Severus said dryly seeing that Harry was preparing to leave.

"No," Harry said. "I forgot that I have to do something."

Severus looked at the clock on the wall as Harry hurried for the door. "Be right back," he said, and he disappeared.

Harry raced up through the castle, mind made up. If he turned the dirt over to his father, then he would really have a reason to trust Harry, and Harry wouldn't have to worry anymore about trusting himself. If his father trusted him, it would be good enough.

At the tapestry that covered the entrance to the attic, Harry finally pushed it aside, feeling a little liberated, and climbed the dark narrow staircase, keeping his eyes peeled for any false stones in the walls where the dirt might be hidden. At the top of the stairs, Harry was just about to push the door to the attic open when his foot hit a rough stone in the floor that was slightly higher than the rest, and lit up his wand to shine down to have a closer look. There was definitely something different about this stone. Using his fingers, Harry worked to pry it up and was satisfied when it came free to reveal a hole containing a very large plastic bag of red dirt. Harry stared down at it and licked his lips twice before he reached down and gently lifted the bag out.

"C'mon," he said quietly to himself, "you didn't come here to have some, you came here to take this away from yourself."

With a last longing look at it, Harry slipped it into the largest pocket of his back pack, and replaced the stone in the floor, before hurrying back down through the castle with his find.

After a knock on the door to his father's quarters, the door opened to reveal a rather tense looking Potion's Master on the other side, who let a grinning Harry in and shut the door behind him.

"Did you do what you had to do?"

"Yeah," Harry said, feeling excited about what he was about to do with Devon's stash.

Harry took his bag off and set it on the couch, back to his father, where he unzipped it and pulled out the bag of dirt. He had just turned around with it in hand, expecting to tell his father about finding it, when his father snatched it out of his hand and knocked Harry off balance before dragging him unceremoniously down the hall and into the bathroom.

It took Harry by surprise when he found himself suddenly sitting in the bathtub fully clothed, where he'd been roughly deposited, and the tub began filling with water.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked, brows together. His bum smarted from hitting the bottom of the tub.

"After three weeks, Harry! You lied to me for three weeks!" Severus didn't have to leave the room this time to get the potions he needed, and turned to pull them out of the medicine cabinet where he promptly uncorked them and fought with Harry as he poured them down Harry's throat.

"Wait!" Harry tried angrily, "I didn't do anything!"

"I knew I shouldn't have left you alone. I knew I should have kept you here. You fooled me once, it won't happen again." Severus was furious, but also a little frantic Harry noted as he crossed his arms and sat in the tub of cold water that was now up to his elbows. He refused to look his father in the eye, and saw no point in struggling as he had nothing to hide. Here Harry had thought the man had trusted him, but he hadn't. In reality, he was just lying in wait for Harry to screw up. Had he been watching him like a hawk all these times Harry had come down to play chess with him? Had he been following him around the castle? Trust, Harry almost snorted. Even Sirius, SIRIUS, trusted him more than this.

Severus got down on his knees at the side of the tub and watched the water closely, waiting for it to turn orange as it had the last time Harry had been in it, but nothing happened. Moments ticked by, then minutes, and finally he shut the water off and looked up at Harry, who was still sitting with his arms crossed and staring straight ahead with an angry look on his face.

"You did not take the Asphodel." It was not a question. If he'd taken it, it would have been in the water by now.

"No," Harry spat. Thanks for trusting me like you made believe you did, he wanted to shout, but decided it didn't matter.

"Can I get out now?" Harry spat with venom.

Severus stood up and backed away, allowing Harry to get out of the tub without a fight. His hair was even a little wet from where the water had splashed up onto it. He snatched a towel that was hanging on the wall and ran it roughly through his hair before dropping it on the floor and stomping, soaking wet out into the hallway and into the living room. The dirt was still sitting on the coffee table where Snape had deposited it.

Harry grabbed up his bag and was making for the door when a hand reached out for his arm, but Harry ripped his arm away, shooting Snape a venomous look.

"Why do you have the bag of Asphodel?"

"Why didn't you ask me before just assuming I had taken it? I thought you trusted me!"

He tried to go for the door again but Snape did grab his arm this time and Harry crossed his soaking arms, looking murderous. "I'm soaking," Harry said, tapping his foot, "I'd like to go change before I really do catch a cold."

"Not before you tell me where the Asphodel came from."

"The attic! It came from the East Attic, where Devon left it! Where it's been sitting since he left, where I went to get it ten minutes ago so I could give it to you. Happy?"

"You knew it was there the entire time?"

"Yes," Harry spat. He felt like he could be Crookshanks on a bad day just now, because the anger and sarcasm and hate was better to feel than the bitter disappointment in knowing that his father really didn't trust him.

"And you went to get it because-"

"Because I thought I finally had someone who had faith in me!" Harry ripped his arm free of Snape's fingers now and finally did get to the door, throwing it open and leaving it that way as he stormed down the dungeon corridor, trailing water all the way behind him.

In his quarters, Severus stood, arms limp at his sides and eyes glazed over. He had finally won Harry's trust, because Harry thought he had faith in him, had trusted him? And now he had lost it again, because after finding out his son had been doing Asphodel the first time, he hadn't given him a second chance to be trusted again. There was more to this parenting business than Albus had made it out to be... and if Albus had been wrong about ‘how easy' it would be to slip into the role of Harry's father in their little talk at the start of term, then he would be wrong about other things involving Harry too. That meant that it was up to Severus to muddle his way through this mess that he had made, and it made his chest hurt a little knowing that he had no idea what to do next.