"Albus! You meddling old coot! You're an old fool! Where do you keep your brains?" was Severus' greeting as he stepped out of the flames. He stepped towards the desk where Albus was sitting and placed his hands on the desk, leaning over into his face.

"What's wrong now, Severus?" Albus replied, sounding tired and annoyed. Of course he knew why Severus was here. That was why he was here at this ungodly hour of the morning.

"Don't give me that," Severus hissed, still furious with this old man. "Did you ever have anyone check on Potter?" Albus blinked, stupidly, Severus thought, at him for a moment. Albus had hoped that Severus would be calmer, and more reasonable, but really, he shouldn't have been surprised that Severus got right to the point. He always did.

"Of course I have," Albus said, sounding confused. "Arabella lives next door. Why do you suddenly care, Severus?"

"What has Arabella been telling you?" he still hissed. Well, Severus was really not in a good mood. He looked like he was ready to hex Dumbledore into next year. Alright, he was ready to hex Dumbledore into next year. Who was he trying to fool? His trust in the man had been shattered as soon as he saw Harry lying on the floor of his cupboard. Things were not all as they seemed. Harry wasn't a spoiled brat - far from it. And Albus wasn't the kindly old grandfather - far from it, apparently.

"She made mention that Harry and her cats got along quite well. She also told me that Harry was kind and gentle, always respectful and quiet," Albus said. Severus snorted.

"Of course he would be," he sneered.

"Stem the sarcasm, Severus," Albus snapped. It was Severus' turn to blink. Well, maybe his tone could have been mistaken for sarcasm. But it wasn't intended that way. And it wasn't often that Albus snapped at him either. Usually he thought that he was quite funny. Why, Severus would never know, but the old Gryffindor apparently didn't value his life enough to ever take him seriously.

"It wasn't sarcasm!" he growled. "Of course Harry would be kind, gentle, respectful and quiet! Was that all Arabella told you? And don't you dare lie to me, Headmaster." He narrowed his eyes, which threatened to bore holes into Albus' soul. Albus leaned back into his chair. How was he going to make Severus see it? He knew the man didn't believe in the greater good. He was too narrow-minded for such a broad principle.

"She told me other things, yes, Severus," he said, sighing.

"What sort of other things?" Severus pressed.

"She said Harry was abused," he finally admitted. Severus snorted again. That apparently wasn't even the half of it, judging by Harry's condition when he found him. "She said that they didn't feed him enough, and that she heard yelling and screams often at night."

"And you did nothing," Severus whispered, a deadly whisper. It wasn't a question, and he didn't say it like a question.

"Of course, I couldn't," Albus had the audacity to reply.

"Do not tell me that," Severus whispered again, white with fury. "I've been to Private Drive, and I've collected Harry, as Minerva already told you. Do you realize how I found him? He lying on the floor of a cupboard, in his own blood, with broken bones, and his back was littered with the records of beatings. Beating after beating. He's a shadow of a boy, Headmaster. He's been starved, and you don't have know anything to see it. And he's scared. He's terrified. He's in my rooms now, sleeping, and don't you dare try to contact him. I'll set my wards so that if you do, you will fried to a crisp. I do not make idle threats, and you know that, so you would do well to stay away. What is it that makes you think that this torture of a child is justified?"

"I don't think you should go so far as to say torture, my boy," Albus said, shaking his head a bit.

"I do, and I will. I have never seen anything like this in any of my abused Slytherins. I've only seen this sort of thing in one place, and that is with the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters. It is torture, and I don't know the extent of it. And I am not your boy."

"Call it what you will. Harry needs to stay with the blood wards."

"He will not. Protecting him from Death Eaters does no good if his relatives kill him instead. Your blood wards are useless."

"He also needs to stay with them because he can't know a life of pleasure," Albus sighed. Severus felt that they were getting into the real reasons now.

"What do you mean?"

"If he lives a comfortable life, he won't be able to fight Voldemort. He must live a hard life, he must know suffering so that he can fight. I don't like it any more than you do."

"Your plan has backfired, I will tell you that. There is no way that Harry will be able to fight anyone. He accepts what happens to him, and he doesn't fight anything. His relatives taught him that fighting only makes things worse. Why should he fight the Dark Lord? Your...weapon," Severus spat the word, "has been broken. I don't know everything the Dursleys did to him, but he isn't going to fight the Dark Lord. He can't, and he won't. Why should he? The Muggle world has tortured him, and the wizarding world has abandoned him. Is there anything left that he would want to defend?"

"It wasn't meant to happen this way," Albus sighed. "I'm sure you can pull him around, and make everything work out."

"I will not," he hissed. "I will not play your stupid little game anymore, and I won't let you use Lily's child!"

"But you will help Harry?"

"Of course. There is no reason why he should suffer any more for your sins. And it is because of that, that I will not raise him to be your weapon."

"You realize, of course, that I'm still his magical guardian," Albus said.

"Are you threatening me, Headmaster?"

"Perhaps," Albus said. "But remember, you said it. Do you feel I should threaten you?"

"I'll strike a deal with you," Severus said. "I will remain your spy as long as I can - I will continue to play your game - as long as you leave Harry out of it. I have never asked for anything in all my years as your spy. Grant me this one request as payment for all the years I have worked for you and all the years in the future."

"Alright," Albus agreed. "For the time being. As long as you continue as my spy, you may see to Harry." Severus nodded curtly, and flooed back to his rooms without dismissal and without a good-bye.

.oO-Oo.

He stepped out of the fireplace and immediately looked at the couch. It was empty. Cold fear clawed at Severus. He hadn't updated his wards against Albus yet. Had the old fool tricked him and taken Harry already? He cast a spell, and it told him that no one had entered or left his rooms since himself for the Headmaster's office. He began to glance around the room, and his eyes fell on a small form.

In the farthest corner, Harry lay curled into his protective ball, his eyes screwed firmly shut. He lay perfectly still, but Severus knew he was awake. His eyes were so tight that Harry couldn't be sleeping. Severus stepped quietly over to him, and squatted down.

"Harry?" he whispered. "Are you alright?" That was such a stupid question. Was he alright? Of course he wasn't! He wouldn't be alright for weeks, months, probably years. Would he ever be alright? It was an outcome that Severus knew he might have to face. He might not be able to help Harry. It was a startling thought, one that he didn't want to have to acknowledge - that he could fail. Maybe there would be no answer. Well, he would have to believe there was. But then, Harry nodded at him. Stupid boy! No, he was just trying to protect himself. He wasn't being stupid. Severus was convinced that Harry believed that if he admitted to not being alright, he would be punished somehow. Well, Severus couldn't let this go on. He sat down next to Harry and pulled his own knees up to his chest.

"Why are you on the floor?" he asked, trying to sound reasonable.

"Because that's where I belong," Harry whispered back.

"Oh, come here, child," Severus sighed, and grabbed Harry up under his arm. Harry was sitting on this thigh now, as Severus brought him close. Harry buried his face into his robes. Blast! He hadn't changed his robes to see the Headmaster. Well, it would mean that he wouldn't have to clean two sets of robes. But Harry wasn't crying now. Just hiding.

Severus had one arm around the thin body, and the other hand crept over to his hair, and he began to stroke it gently. Harry was just stiff. He didn't even flinch under the touch.

"Well," Severus finally said. "If you want to sleep on the floor, that's fine. But then I'll sleep on the floor with you." Well that got a reaction from Harry. He pulled his face from his robes and looked up, terrified, at Severus' expression as he looked down.

"But you have a bed, don't you?" Harry fairly squeaked.

"Of course I do," Severus said. "But if you belong on the floor, then so do I."

"No, you don't!" Harry contradicted. Under usual circumstances, he would have been exceedingly frustrated to see a child so openly contradict him. But with Harry, it meant that there still was a little bit of will left somewhere. He would just have to learn to reach it, and make it grow. He had a chance with the child.

.oO-Oo.

How could this man be so foolish? He wanted to sleep on the floor when he had a bed of his own? What was this man thinking? He didn't want to make the man uncomfortable, and he knew sleeping on the floor was uncomfortable. If he made the man uncomfortable, what would the man do to him? After all, this man was scary. This man, he was sure, knew more ways to punish him than his aunt and uncle. He would have to stay on the man's good side, or he would be paying for it later, that he knew.

"You can't sleep on the floor," he said. Didn't this man understand? He was supposed to sleep on the floor. He was just a freak, and that was all he deserved. In fact, that was more than he deserved. But this man was powerful, and he shouldn't be sleeping on the floor. "You just can't. It's not right for you."

"But it's right for you?" the man asked.

"Yes," Harry said definitively.

"Why is it right for you but not for me?"

"Because I'm a freak," he stated, calmly. Much too calmly for Severus' liking. "And because you're an adult. And because I'm weak." Surely the man already knew these things. He'd seen his weakness when he cried like a baby, and he'd told him about his freakishness, and the man knew he was an adult. But then man just pulled him closer after he said that. In fact, the man pushed his knees down and pulled him into his lap, and let him lean against his chest. Harry could feel Severus' heart beat, and he found it strangely comforting.

"You're not a freak, and you aren't weak, either," Severus said into his ear. "Harry, explain to me why you think you're a freak." The man was running his hands through his hair. He was pulling out some knots, but other than that, it felt so good. No one had ever wanted to touch him like this before, but this man seemed to like it.

"Because I do strange things," he started explaining. "And my parents were freaks. If my parents were freaks then I will be a freak."

"I knew your parents, Harry," Severus said, still stroking the boy. "And they were not freaks. They were both good people." Blast, he was calling James Potter a good person! This had to be a dream. "Your aunt called your parents freaks because they were magical. Your father was a wizard and your mother was a witch. So yes, you are a wizard too. But that doesn't make you a freak. I'm a wizard too, Harry." The man pulled his chin up so he had to look at the man. "Does that make me a freak?"

"No, sir," Harry said. "But you're an adult and I'm weak."

"I'm an adult, yes, but that means that I should protect you and take care of you," Severus said. "The same rules should apply to us." Oh, surely the man wasn't that stupid!

"Dudley - my cousin -," Harry began, "always asked Uncle Vernon about driving the car. Uncle Vernon said that he was allowed to drive the car because he was an adult, but Dudley wasn't because he was still a child. Do you think Dudley should be able to drive the car?"

.oO-Oo.

Severus sighed. Why did the boy have to be so blasted clever? How was he going to refute this one? He felt his heart breaking at the cold logic Harry was using. Much as he wanted the children to think, Harry was too far ahead of the game.

"Oh, Harry," he gasped, and pulled Harry close again, and began rocking back and forth, pressing Harry's head to his chest. "It's not like that. Some rules are different, but some are the same. You deserve a bed, and you deserve food, and you deserve decent clothes. You deserve them because you exist. And it doesn't matter what age you are, or whether you're a wizard or not, or how strong you are. And you are strong. Trust me, you are strong. I've seen a lot of things, Harry, things that are horrible. I've seen evil things. And I've seen adult men, who have endured less than you have, beg for it to stop."

They sat there in silence for a few minutes, Harry basking in the attention, and Severus not knowing what to do, except to hold Harry close and run his fingers through the boy's hair.

"Will you sleep in a bed now?" Severus asked quietly. Harry shook his head and shuttered.

"Please, no," he whispered, low and scared, begging, and Severus felt his heart break the rest of the way. "Please don't make me."

"I won't," Severus said. He didn't voice the "yet" that he thought. If Harry was that opposed to sleeping in a bed, well, he wasn't going to force him. Yet. Shoot, he didn't know where to start with Harry! There was so much to fix, and so little time. "But will you at least sleep on the sofa?" Harry nodded, as he hid his face deeper into Severus' robes. Well at least that was something. Perhaps they were already making progress.

"What do you want me to do in return?" Harry asked. Severus just stopped his rocking suddenly, and didn't know what the question meant. He gripped Harry by his thin shoulders and looked at him, still settled on his lap. Oh, this was such an embarrassing situation, and his reputation would be ruined! But it was worth it, Severus knew.

"I don't understand," Severus said simply. Perhaps honesty would work the best in this situation, even if it was humiliating to think that he didn't understand what surely should have been a simple question.

"Do you want me to do chores for sleeping on the sofa?" Harry explained. "I'll try to do my best with whatever you want. I can do a lot of chores." The blasted boy almost sounded proud of himself.

"I don't want anything from you," Severus said evenly, though inwardly cursing the Dursleys. "I don't want money for healing you, and I don't want you to work for me. You don't owe me anything. Do you understand?" Harry nodded, but Severus knew that Harry only gave the answer that he thought that he - Severus - wanted to hear. Severus scooped him up and carried him back to the sofa, laying him down on it.

"I want you to sleep if you can," Severus said. "It's late. It's the middle of the night. You don't have to get up early - as I'm sure you've had to before. I don't expect you to do anything, so you may sleep as long as you like. I will be in another room. I want you to come and get me if there is any problem whatsoever. It doesn't matter what I'm doing, and it doesn't matter what the problem is." Harry just looked at him blankly with big, green eyes. Severus ran his hand over Harry's head once more, and knew that his instructions were in vain. Harry would not seek out help no matter what went wrong, no matter what happened. "Now, sleep, child." He moved his hand over Harry's eyes, and Harry curled into his ball again, not moving a muscle.

.oO-Oo.

So the man wanted him on the couch. Well, it was better than a bed. He didn't want to think about that. And he was glad that this man - Snape - hadn't made him sleep in a bed. But still, a sofa was too much for him. It was more than he should be getting from anyone. He wasn't worth it. But Snape had made it clear that he wanted him to sleep on the sofa. Snape had said that he didn't owe him anything, but Harry knew that wasn't true. Oh, he owed this man so much. He would never be able to pay it back.

His uncle had showed him a scale once. It balanced things, and if you put more on one said than another, the little plates would become uneven. Uncle Vernon had explained that life was like these scales, and that everything needed to balance out in the end. And this was why he - Harry - had to pay for the things he got, so that he could keep the scales even. Harry knew that the scales measuring his life were very much not even right now. And he would have to work for years to get them even again.

He knew that Snape wouldn't let him sleep on the sofa forever. Soon Snape would see that he wasn't worth his couch, and he would be back in a cupboard where he belonged. It was so strange sleeping in an exposed area like this. He felt vulnerable. In his cupboard, there was only one door, and he could always know if someone was coming in. Here, Snape could come up from behind him. He wanted his cupboard back. He wanted the life he understood. Maybe it was uncomfortable, and maybe he didn't like it, but he understood it. And right now, that was all he wanted, was to understand.

Alright, he also wanted some food. But he knew he'd have to earn that. Food was expensive. He would earn it tomorrow.

Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived in a Cupboard, fell asleep.

.oO-Oo.

Severus left the room for a moment, and then came back with a blanket. He laid it over Harry, tucking it in. The boy was too thin and would freeze left without a blanket in the dungeons, even if it was the middle of summer. And so he left the fire blazing.

"What will I ever do with you, child?" Severus whispered, knowing Harry had fallen asleep. "What can I do to make you see?"