Severus dabbed the rest of the salve on the purple bruises of Potter's black eye, all the while considering appropriate punishments for that destructive fight the boys had in the library. He made a mental note to have a serious discussion with Kieran about his abominable word choices and his dishonesty. Being the Slytherin Head of House, Severus generally knew how to ascertain if his students were being less than truthful, but after today's incident, Severus realized that he'd become perhaps a bit too lenient with Kieran.

Kieran had recounted an embellished version of the events, omitting several important details when questioned about the causes leading up to the fight. Severus had been suspicious, but held off reaching a conclusion until he had heard Potter's side of the story.

The behavior displayed by the boy during the questioning was telling. Severus noticed the fidgeting of Potter's hands and the hesitation in his voice as he answered, yet he detected no hint of dishonesty, only truth in his eyes. And when Harry had told him the foul words that Kieran had called Lily, Severus had to suppress his anger behind his shields to stop himself from acting upon it. Considering this wasn't the first time Kieran had used one of those words, Severus certainly planned to do something about it. Apparently, he didn't heed to Severus' warning last time.

Severus had been so lost in his own thoughts that he almost didn't notice Harry beginning to slightly sway on his feet, and instinctively placed a hand on the boy's shoulder to steady him. Potter seemed to be on the verge of collapsing; his face was pale, his breathing short and quick as if he just couldn't draw enough air into his lungs. Then without warning, Harry's panicked eyes connected with Severus' for a split second before they rolled up into his head, and he went limp.

"Harry!" Severus shouted in alarm, managing to catch the boy just in time to prevent his head from hitting the edge of the desk. He gently lowered Harry to the floor and tried shaking him, continuing to call his name as he did, but any attempts at rousing the boy were futile.

Deciding to move Harry off the hard floor, Severus easily lifted him up, frowning when he noticed how light, and much too thin, the boy was.

After settling Harry on the settee, Severus knelt beside him, his long fingers grasping Harry's wrist and searching for a pulse when he thought the boy appeared to be much too still. He released a small sigh of relief when he found one, thready and a bit weak, but present. He placed a hand on Harry's forehead and found it warm, his skin feeling clammy to the touch. Perhaps the boy was more injured from the fight than Severus had realized...

Suddenly, right before Severus' eyes, Harry appeared to be... changing. Severus stared in alarm as the boy's skin, which had just been healed a few minutes prior, was now becoming discolored and bruised again. There were also noticeable scars forming on Harry's arms, some of which were thin white lines, indicating that they had not been acquired recently.

Where on earth did the boy get these? Had he been concealing them with a glamour this whole time...?

With a sharp flick of his wand, Harry's overly large shirt vanished, and Severus nearly gasped in horror at what had been hidden underneath.

Dear Merlin... 

The boy was bruised all over, a kaleidoscope of discoloration that left nearly no skin unblemished, and Severus could almost count every rib protruding from Harry's much too thin chest.

Gently rolling the boy onto his side, Severus' concern only increased when he saw that Harry's back wasn't any better than his front. Multiple lacerations littered the boy's back, and there were old marks that have long turned into scars and new wounds that Severus knew must have been recent. He winced as he studied the redness around the wounds, noticing how they were inflamed and appeared to be infected. From a belt buckle, Severus thought darkly. He was all too familiar with the damage that belt buckles could cause, given some of his own scars, but his weren't nearly as severe.

He lightly traced over an old scar on Harry's back, just to confirm that it was real, to make sure that it wasn't just a figment of his imagination.

Realizing that Harry needed more medical attention than he alone could provide, Severus hastily made his way to the fireplace and tossed a pinch of Floo powder into the grate, calling for the Hogwart's infirmary. He stuck his head in, waiting for the spinning to stop before opening his eyes to the floor of Madam Pomfrey's office. Poppy was seated at her desk, perusing some medical records.

"Poppy?" Severus said to gain her attention.

Poppy looked up from her work, turning towards Severus' direction.

"Severus? What is it?" she asked, taking her reading glasses off.

"I require your assistance. It is urgent, please bring your supplies," Severus said, and without elaborating further on the situation, he pulled his head back.

Not a moment too soon, Poppy arrived with her medical supplies bag, brushing the soot off her robes as she stepped out of the fire.

"What is so urgent, Sev—" Poppy cut herself off and gasped when she noticed Harry on the settee. "What has happened?"

"I'm not entirely certain yet," Severus said with a slight shake of his head. "I was healing his bruises from an earlier conflict when he fainted, and it appears that he has been wearing a glamour."

Poppy quickly cast a diagnosis spell on Harry with a wave of her wand. A piece of parchment appeared beside him, beginning to list all the injuries that he had suffered so far. Severus watched as it lengthened, his heart dropping as the list continued to grow longer and longer with each passing second.

It seemed endless.

Once it finally finished, both of them stared at the parchment in disbelief.

Just how much had this boy been through?

Severe malnutrition... dehydration... broken bones... concussions... burns...

All those thoughts Severus had adamantly pushed away returned with a vengeance now as snippets of the past couple of days flashed through his mind...

How the boy had been nothing but polite and obedient, doing everything he was told without a single protest and effortlessly finishing the chores with no complaints whatsoever about being tired or wanting a break. As if he's used to it...

And then there was the unmistakable flinch Harry gave, along with the barely concealed fear in his eyes when Severus had came up behind the boy to tell him to come in for lunch...

How submissive Harry had been after his fight with Kieran in the library... Did the boy think he was going to get severely punished?

Then there had been the nightmare that Severus had to wake Harry from yesterday, the boy seemingly thrashing and dodging hits in his sleep as if he was trying to get away from someone... And Harry's unnecessary apology for supposedly waking Severus up, along with the obvious surprise when Severus asked about the nightmare... The anguish in those green eyes...

Everything makes sense now...

All the little tidbits that Severus had obtained from observing Harry were finally piecing together, forming a startlingly clear picture of what the boy must have been through.

Why hadn't anyone noticed this? After all these years surely his friends, Albus, or Minerva should have known about this? Or Lupin and Black should have definitely noticed something. They were rather close to the boy after all.

But if they did, then why didn't anybody do anything about it?

Why couldn't I have seen it?

Severus had to swallow past the sudden bitter taste in his mouth. Because you had been too blinded by your hatred to notice what was in front of you, Severus.

"I have never seen a child with so many injuries," Poppy whispered, clapping a hand to her mouth as she looked sadly down at Harry.

Severus plucked the parchment out of the air and continued to stare at it, a surge of anger building within him. He struggled to contain it, his fingers creating creases in the parchment from his tight grip. He was absolutely livid at the boy's relatives, who were no doubt the perpetrators of these injuries upon their nephew, as well as furious with Albus for deciding to leave Harry with them in the first place. But most of all, Severus was angry at himself for not recognizing the signs for what they were.

"He has a fever due to the infection that's starting to set in. There's also broken ribs that needs to fixed before they puncture his lungs. At the moment, they are hindering his ability to breath properly. The trauma from that conflict must have prolonged its healing," Poppy said, breaking Severus out of his thoughts. She proceeded to pull out the appropriate potions and salves needed from her bag. "He also has a few bones that had been healed incorrectly."

Severus sighed, forcing his emotions to the back of his mind, and focused on the task at hand now, which was to heal Harry's current injuries. How the boy managed to not succumb to these injuries sooner was beyond him.

Poppy first spelled a Fever Reducer into Harry's stomach and a dose of Dreamless Sleep to ensure that the boy didn't wake while they treated him. Then she began to efficiently cast spells to clean and heal the infected wounds on the boy's back. Severus helped her re-break the wrongly healed bones and set them to heal correctly, before administering a dose of Skele-Gro to start mending the broken bones. They finally finished by rubbing the bruise salve over all of the bruises covering Harry's torso, arms, and face. Neither one spoke a word the entire time as they worked, both lost in their own thoughts.

After a couple of hours spent tending to the boy, they both sank tiredly onto armchairs that Severus had conjured up.

"He's going to need nutrient potions to take with every meal," Poppy told him. "He's far too thin and malnourished."

Severus nodded his understanding, his gaze never leaving Harry. It didn't escape his notice that the boy wasn't eating as much as an average sixteen year old should be, but he had simply brushed it off as insignificant, assuming the boy was just being fussy about what he eats. Severus sighed, resisting the urge to bury his face in his hands. Perhaps he should just toss all his assumptions out the window, and start anew...

Poppy rummaged in her bag and pulled out a small jar containing anti-scarring cream. "It won't have any effect on the older scars, but this will take care of the more recent ones just fine." She handed it to Severus, who slipped it into his robe pocket to apply on the boy later.

"He should be fine after some much needed rest," Poppy said as she flicked her wand, causing all the supplies to pack themselves back into her bag. "Albus informed me of your relationship to Harry. Personally, I think it's wonderful that Harry has someone to fully support him now." She glanced at Severus before shifting her gaze onto Harry and giving a sad smile, "Merlin knows he needs it after these last few years."

Severus was a little surprised at her words, but his features remained expressionless. He simply gave a tiny nod of acknowledgment.

"It's amazing that he's held up this long," Poppy said quietly.

"Yes, it is," Severus said, his voice no more than a whisper.

"Minerva told me they were the worst sort of Muggles," said Poppy, shaking her head. She gave an exasperated sigh. "I still can't believe Albus left Harry there in the first place, much less sending him back there every summer."

Severus exhaled slowly though his nose, feeling his anger reigniting just below the surface.

What good were the blood wards if the boy wasn't also safe inside them?

Severus had known Petunia despised anything to do with magic ever since that day he'd met her, and if she was anything like she was before, then it was no wonder that hatred had been passed onto Harry. She had been spiteful and jealous of Lily, but Severus couldn't believe that her hatred had spilled this severely onto her own nephew.

"Someone should have checked on him," said Severus, clenching his hands tightly into fists.

"Harry had hidden the signs fairly well."

"Yes, but I should have recognized them for what they were," he muttered, running an agitated hand over his face.

"You can be there for him now, Severus." Poppy patted his shoulder. "I have always noticed how thin he was at the beginning of the school years, but he was always too stubborn to go to the hospital wing." She gave a slight smirk, "Now I know where he gets it from."

Severus gave a stiff nod. He wondered what he would have done if he had noticed. Would he have tried to help the boy, or would he let his hatred overrule all rational thought? He shook his head, there was no point in what ifs. All he could do was to be there for Harry now.

Poppy gave a long sigh, then rose to her feet. "Well, I should return to Hogwarts. Floo call me if you need anything."

"Thank you, Poppy."

She inclined her head and glanced one more time at Harry before vanishing in the green flames.

Severus murmured a featherlight charm and carefully gathered Harry up, scooping him beneath the knees and back, then made his way to the boy's room. When they finally arrived, he gently set Harry down on the bed, making sure not to jostle his healing injuries. He went to the dresser to get the boy a shirt, but was dismayed to discover that all his clothes were of the same quality. Overlarge, ripped, and worn down. Severus was definitely going to have to take the boy shopping one day.

Giving up on finding a decent enough shirt from those rags, Severus summoned a shirt of his own and shrunk it down to fit the boy. He spelled it onto Harry and transfigured the boy's jeans into pajamas before pulling the blankets up and tucking them up to his chin.

Then, with a wide wave of his wand, Severus conjured a comfortable armchair beside the bed and tiredly sank into it.

He took a glance around the fairly sparse room, noting how tidy and organized everything was.

On the boy's desk, Severus caught a pile of rolled up parchment next to some of his school books and realized that they must be Harry's finished school assignments. He had actually been doing his homework? Severus had never known the boy to be studious, considering he'd only been mediocre at best in class, but then he remembered how Harry had spent most of the day in the library, working on his assignments like Severus told him to. Not like the boy he knew— well, the boy he assumed he was...

It just occurred to Severus that he didn't really know Harry at all. In the last five years he hadn't managed to recognize the boy's true personality. Severus had been looking through specialized lens that blocked out anything that was uniquely Harry and only saw who he wanted to see, not who was truly in front of him. Well, no more. Severus was now determined to get to know the boy.

And for the first time since Harry arrived, Severus really studied the boy.

Didn't Lily mention a glamour in her letter?

He couldn't deny it anymore.

Harry's facial features were similar to Severus' own, but there were also hints that were unmistakably Lily. The curve of his eyebrows, his nose, the shape of his lips, and his chin were all Lily. Thankfully, Harry didn't inherit the hooked nose, though the shape of the boy's face and cheekbones were most definitely from Severus. It also seemed that Harry's hair had lost the familiar, unruliness that was Potter's signature style, now looking smoother and neater, similar to Severus' own, but without the greasiness.

The perfect mixture of the both of us...

His and Lily's.

Our son.

Leaning forward, Severus gently brushed a few errant strands of dark hair back from the boy's forehead, his fingers lingering a bit longer than he intended.

He gave a weary sigh, feeling a tightness in his throat as he buried his head in his hands.

What would Lily think if she saw their son like this?

So battered and bruised, but hopefully not broken.

Severus stayed by Harry's bedside for a couple hours reading a potions journal until he had to go to dinner. He wanted to be there when Harry woke and figured the boy wouldn't be waking for at least a few more hours. Kieran was already in his usual seat waiting for him, and dinner appeared on the table as soon as Severus sat down.

"Where's Potter?" Kieran asked after swallowing a mouthful of pasta. "Is his punishment to go without dinner?"

"No, he's resting," Severus replied simply, cutting into his chicken. He was certainly not about to provide more details, and it wasn't Kieran's business to know.

"Why? Was that little fight too much for him to handle?" Kieran had a suspicious look in his eyes, accompanied by a smirk plastered on his face that Severus was all too familiar with now. It reminded Severus of the discussions he still needed to have with him.

After pointing a disapproving glare at Kieran, Severus set his plate aside and said, "Kieran, we need to have a serious talk."

Kieran furrowed his brows, his smirk disappearing. "About what?"

"About lying and that abysmal mouth of yours."

Severus caught the startled look that flashed briefly across Kieran's face.

"What are you talking about?" he asked innocently, trying to appear nonchalant. Severus could tell he was deliberately trying to prolong this conversation.

"I am referring to your version of the events that brought about the fight."

"I already told you what happened," Kieran said, his features composed, though Severus noticed he was fidgeting with his fork. "Whatever Potter told you is a lie."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "What he told me, did not coincide with your version of the events."

Kieran scowled, then said a bit more forcefully, "Potter was lying then!"

At the sight of Severus' glare deepening, his lips thinning into a severe line, Kieran dropped his gaze to his plate. Honestly, the boy wasn't a very convincing liar.

"Why am I finding this hard to believe?" Severus said sarcastically, irritation coloring his tone. His patience was running thin.

"I told you the truth!" Kieran said indignantly, glancing up at a point somewhere above Severus' left shoulder.

"If you did, then look me in the eye and say it," Severus demanded.

Kieran tried holding his intense gaze, but couldn't maintain the eye contact for long before averting his eyes again.

"Fine. I might have said some things to him, but he still threw the first punch," Kieran admitted reluctantly. He huffed then narrowed his eyes at Severus. "Why are you suddenly taking his side?"

"I'm taking the side of the truth," Severus simply told him, folding his arms across his chest. He suddenly remembered that incident between Harry and Kieran with his potion ingredients and asked, "Is there anything else I should be aware of? Now is your opportunity to confess because if I find out later, I assure you, the consequences will be even more unpleasant."

Kieran pressed his lips into a thin line, defiantly keeping his mouth shut, though he appeared conflicted. Severus waited for a response, and after several moments of silence had passed between them, Kieran finally spoke.

"Fine," he said, seeming to deflate a bit. "I may have tripped him in your potions cupboard..."

Something fit into place then, and Severus felt a pang of guilt as he recalled dragging Harry from the room without allowing him to explain his side first. He remembered having suspicions about that incident afterwards, but he'd disregarded them in favor of believing Kieran's claims and Harry had been the one wrongfully punished for it.

"I believe something needs to be done about this little habit of yours," Severus said in a low dangerous tone, trying not to let his anger get the best of him. Kieran, for once, seemed to wither a bit under Severus' glare. "And considering you decided to ignore my warning about using that word, I stand by what I said your punishment was going to be."

Kieran appeared startled. "You were serious?"

Severus gave a short nod. "I always am."

"But that's the type of work for bloody house elves!" Kieran said indignantly, his defiance returning as he attempted to glare back. "I'll just tell mother what you're making me do!"

"You are in my care at the moment, and therefore, have to abide by my rules," said Severus sternly. "Tomorrow, you will serve your punishments."

Kieran opened his mouth to protest further, but snapped it shut before any words came out. Apparently, he figured that it was no use trying to argue. Though that didn't stop Kieran from pouting at him, looking every bit like a petulant child. Severus ignored it, continuing to eat his dinner.

It was a few hours into the night when Harry was starting to come around. At first, he thought he was back in his room at Privet Drive, but that wasn't right... the bed he was resting on felt much too warm and comfortable. He slowly opened his eyes and glanced around the dimly lit room, noting that it was already dark outside. Beside his bed, there was an armchair and Harry was a bit startled to find Snape sitting in it, reading a book.

How long had I been out? Harry wondered. And why is Snape sitting there...?

Harry gave an imperceptible groan as he attempted to push himself up to a sitting position with his elbows, his entire body feeling sore, protesting to the movement. He was stopped when Snape leaned over him, placing a warm hand on his chest and gently pushing him back down.

"Careful, your injuries are still healing," Snape said in a quiet voice. He summoned some pillows and propped them up against the headboard, then carefully helped Harry sit up to rest against them.

Harry blinked, staring at Snape in confusion for a moment. Then, it all started to come back to him...

The fight in the library, going into Snape's study, his chest hurting and the lightheadedness as he was getting his bruises healed, and then blacking out... Oh no. 

He remembered desperately trying to keep his glamour up before he passed out. Alarmed, Harry looked down at his arms and saw the familiar red streaks covering his pale skin.

His heart sank; Snape would have seen the scars on his back and the wounds from that last beating as well.

Harry dropped his gaze, focusing intently on a loose thread on the blanket. He couldn't look at Snape now, imagining the look of disgust that must be on the man's face.

He probably thinks I'm a freak now.

"Harry, look at me."

It was spoken with an unfamiliar gentleness, and Harry couldn't help raising his head back up to gaze in Snape's direction. There wasn't any anger or disgust coating his father's deep voice that Harry had expected to hear.

And he just called him Harry...

"There is nothing to be ashamed about," Snape said before he pulled out a jar of ointment from his robe pocket. "This is cream for your scars. It won't have an effect on the older scars, but it will work fine for the recent ones. If you are willing, I would like to apply it to the ones on your back."

Harry looked at the jar and then back at his father. He just nodded his assent, still too stunned by this strange situation. Maybe he was still asleep, and this was just a dream...

His father gently helped him turn onto his side, then slowly lifted his shirt and started applying the cool salve, his movements smooth and gentle.

"How did you cast that glamour?" Snape asked from behind him.

"Wandless magic, sir," Harry said it so quietly, he was surprised that Snape even heard him as that hand on his back had stilled for a moment before resuming its ministrations.

"You should no longer conceal the injuries; it uses far too much of your strength that you need in order to heal," his father said, still maintaining that bewildering soft tone.

Harry remained silent, not knowing how to respond to that. Why wasn't Snape sneering at him yet? Why wasn't the man giving him the same look of contempt that Harry always received at the Dursleys? Shockingly, Snape was speaking to him softly, almost comfortingly— something Harry never expected the man was even capable of before yesterday— and even healed his injuries. Nobody had ever taken care of him like this. Harry always had to figure out how to deal with his injuries himself.

Surely this was too good to be true...

Once his father finished applying the salve, he helped Harry sit up and lean back comfortably on the pillows.

"Why did you not tell anyone?" Snape's expression was unfathomable as usual, but his voice held an odd quality to it now and there was something in those dark eyes that Harry couldn't identify.

Harry shrugged, averting his gaze and beginning to pick at a loose thread on the edge of his blanket.

Many thoughts were running through Harry's mind, tumbling over each other as they competed for his attention.

Should he just tell him and hope for the best? The man had already seen all the bruises and scars, there was nothing left to hide...

Wasn't this what he wanted yesterday when Snape had woken him up from his nightmare? To be able to confide in someone about his long kept secrets?

But then again, this was still Snape... The man who had constantly belittled and taunted him for the past five years... And suddenly, a wave of anger and resentment rushed through him as memories of all the times he'd been singled out in class and all the unfair treatment he'd been given came back to him...

No, he wouldn't care—

"I can't help you if you don't talk to me, Harry," Snape said softly, drawing Harry out of his turbulent thoughts. He heard the concern in the man's voice, noticed it on his usually unreadable face, and there was something in Harry that was clawing its way out, his anger having left him as quickly as it had appeared.

Harry wanted to— desperately wanted to— but he couldn't seem to get the words to form. Too many years had been spent burying the issue, pushing it away, and pretending that everything was fine...

An irritating lump began to form in Harry's throat and he let out a small cough, hoping to clear it, but the stinging in his eyes had already started.

"You hate me! W-why would you care?" He hated the trembling in his voice, and he had to turn away, swallowing hard, before continuing more quietly, "Nobody's ever cared before."

A long moment passed without a response from Snape, then Harry heard a small sigh and felt the bed dip slightly as his father slowly sat down near his feet.

"I don't hate you... I realize that my hatred has been misplaced," Snape said softly, and there was a brief pause as he cleared his throat before he continued. "And I care, because, you are my son."

Harry didn't think he'd heard right at first, and couldn't help looking back at the man, unable to do anything more than stare at him in disbelief as those words reverberated in his mind, replaying like a broken record player. It was a simple phrase that Harry had always heard directed at someone else, but never was it said to him.

He didn't know why it meant so much to him, but it did.

And it was as if the walls of a dam had burst open, a rush of incomprehensible emotions spilling forth before Harry could stop them.

Harry's breath hitched as he slowly glanced up, his green eyes meeting his father's dark ones.

An unnoticed tear slid down his cheek.

"Really?"

The boy's voice was no more than a whisper, the short question filled with such vulnerability and uncertainly that it made Severus' chest tighten hearing it.

Severus could only give a small nod as he cautiously reached out and gently swiped away the lone tear sliding down the boy's cheek with his thumb. Harry closed his eyes for a moment and leaned into the touch.

That small, simple action sent an indescribable rush of protectiveness through Severus, and he had to swallow against the sudden tightness in his throat. From now on, Severus was determined to make sure that Harry was never hurt again, because it seems that all the significant people in the boy's life had failed him one way or another. It was hard to believe that just a few days ago, Severus had been so against the idea of the boy coming to stay with him, but now, he was certainly never going to let those Muggles anywhere near Harry ever again.

"Can you tell me where the scars came from?" Severus kept his voice soft, hoping to sound somewhat encouraging. There were so many questions he wanted to ask, so many details about the boy's home life that he must be unaware of...

Harry sniffed, hesitating for a long moment, and Severus didn't think he was going to answer until the boy drew in a deep breath. "Un-Uncle Vernon's belt... sometimes the whip," he said, a slight tremble to his voice. "Mostly because I didn't get my chores done fast enough or..." He trailed off and shuddered, his eyes slightly glazed as if he was remembering the unpleasant memories.

"What were the chores?" Severus asked after a quiet moment, attempting to keep his tone calm with the fury burning inside him.

"Cook meals, weed the garden, paint the shed, mostly just housework or garden work," Harry said flatly, fidgeting with the hem of his nightshirt.

Severus swallowed, feeling a pang of guilt as he realized that he had assigned Harry the same kind of chores. That work ethic he observed must have been hardwired into the boy. "What did they do if you didn't finish them?"

Harry kept his head down, his voice quiet as he said, "No food for that day and locked in my room... and if he's really angry, he'll use the belt and the whip."

"When did this all start?" Severus questioned further, repressing the urge to go find those despicable Muggles right now and make them feel everything they put his son through. But now was not the time to act on those feelings, though Severus planned to make a visit, looking forward to providing at least an afternoon's worth full of terror sometime in the near future. It was what those Muggles deserved, depriving his son of his basic needs and treating him like a bloody house elf...

"Ever since I can remember..." Harry murmured, and he released a sad sigh before continuing, his voice so soft Severus had to lean in closer to hear, "It was only because I deserved it. The last beating was because I ruined his dinner party."

Severus frowned, his heart clenching uncomfortably in his chest. It sounded as if his son truly believed it. His anger was now burning like acid within him and Severus had to modulate his voice, struggling not to let it show, "You did not deserve it, Harry. No one deserves any of that."

Harry raised his head back up and gazed at him in surprise, his glistening green eyes still wary and doubtful, not quite able to believe Severus' words. Well, Severus was determined to do whatever it takes to dispel that ridiculous notion out of the boy's head. No matter what Harry had done, absolutely nothing would warrant that kind of punishment.

Severus slowly reached out and placed a hand on Harry's thin shoulder, re-emphasizing his statement more firmly this time, "You did not deserve it. There is absolutely no reason to beat a child. What they did was abuse."

Harry gave a tiny nod, and Severus could see the boy mulling over his words. He hoped it was getting through to him, but Severus knew it would take some time for the words to completely sink in after everything Harry had been through.

They sat in silence for a few moments until Severus noticed that Harry was having difficulty keeping his eyes open, realizing that the boy must still be exhausted. After the difficult discussion they just had, Harry must be emotionally drained. It was no wonder, considering he was also still healing from his injuries.

"You need more rest," said Severus, removing the pillows from behind Harry and gently lowering him back down. The boy was already fast asleep as Severus tucked the covers around him.

"Sleep well, Harry," Severus whispered, and after hesitating for a moment, he reached down and lightly carded his fingers through Harry's dark hair.

Lingered beside the bed, Severus watched his son's steady breathing for a few more cycles, before he spelled the desk lamp off and retreated from the room, quietly shutting the door behind him on his way out. He decided to put up a ward that would alert him if there were any problems, then retired to his own bedroom and prepared for bed. Despite the revelations he discovered today weighing heavily on his mind, Severus managed to fall asleep quickly, his exhaustion from the long day dragging him under.