CHAPTER 2

Harry woke with a start, his heart pounding and the echo of Malfoy's tormented face ricocheting through his brain.

He probed wildly through his mind for long moments, searching for any sign of memories and emotions that didn't belong. There's no way that Voldemort could be breaking in anymore, he frantically tried to convince himself. I know how to Occlude! Harry forced himself to breathe through the panic that was attempting to take hold. After long moments, it was with tremendous relief that he found nothing foreign within his own mind.

Harry knew there was no way he'd be able to go back to sleep after a dream like that. As much as I hate Malfoy, I wouldn't wish that kind of horror on anyone, he thought as the pale, watery light of the newly dawning sun began to seep beneath his bed curtains. Was that just my subconscious, or was that real…?

Reaching for his glasses on the bedside table, he attempted to forget the compassion for his nemesis that the dream evoked. But as he got ready for the day, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get the vision of Malfoy's anguished face out of his head…

The troubling thoughts did nothing to improve the dark mood that had been plaguing Harry for the past week. As he gazed at the room around him – from the giant four-poster bed with the hand carved designs on the posts, to the small writing desk beside the massive window overlooking the breathtaking Scottish highlands – he knew that he was going to miss this tower.

As much as he'd always loved Hogwarts and considered the school his true home, somehow that definition had begun to redefine itself within the past few months. The thought of 'home' no longer conjured thoughts of stone turrets and squashy red armchairs before the fire. Now thinking of home brought different images to mind: Little Jilly's laughter as they played Gobstones and Pogs together on the floor; Lily's cheerful face as she smiled at them over a massive book on Healing; Snape's face relaxing into happy contentment when he thought no one was watching.

Harry felt safe in this tower, loved and happy amongst his small, newly formed family. He smiled as he remembered the carefree hours they'd already spent here, so blissful that the hours together made it almost possible to believe the war with Voldemort was nothing but a bad dream.

But as Harry stood staring at the cold gray morning, the smile on his face melted away. He knew better than to think like that.

The war was real, and the words of the prophecy continued to echo in the back crevices of his mind. He knew with painful clarity that neither he nor Voldemort could really live while the other survived.

School was starting next week, bringing the charade of his family to an abrupt and painful end. More than that, the clock was ticking down what little time he had left before he would be forced to face Voldemort – a fight he was still unsure if he could win.

Sighing as he contemplated his broken excuse for a life, Harry stared unseeingly at the imposing mountain peaks that surrounded Hogwarts. He knew it didn't make sense, but he somehow felt cheated. After a lifetime of being alone, miraculously he now had people who cared about him, people he loved deeply. It didn't seem fair that not only was he was expected to hide that fact from the world. The stark truth was that he may not ever get a chance to truly enjoy being part of a family.

"I feel the exact same way."

Gasping in surprise at the softly murmured words that interrupted his dark thoughts, Harry spun around with his wand held at the ready. But he quickly put it away in embarrassment when he saw his father leaning on the wooden frame of his doorway, his arms crossed loosely over his chest.

"We need to make you wear a bell," Harry grumbled, and one side of his father's mouth quirked in amusement. Harry only scowled at the man before turning to gaze out the window once more. "And what makes you so sure you know how I'm feeling?" He grumbled.

He could feel his father examining him, but Harry refused to meet his dark, probing gaze. After a long moment, Snape pushed himself away from Harry's doorway and slowly approached the large window to stand beside his son. Glancing at Snape's reflection, he saw that he worse an impenetrable expression as he quietly contemplated the majestic, craggy landscape below.

"You are my son," he said softly after a long moment.

"Only for a few more days," Harry retorted, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. "Then we revert back to our former roles of 'loathsome Potter brat' and 'hated, prejudiced professor.'"

"You don't honestly believe that."

"I have to!" Harry cried as he spun to face the man, a note of desperation creeping into his voice. "I know you have a role to play, and not playing it convincingly enough could get you killed! Do you think I want that on my conscious? I have enough blood on my hands! I– You– I can't…" His eyes welled with unwilling tears, but he didn't fight back when Snape reached out and pulled him into his arms. "I can't lose you too, Dad," he choked.

"You're not going to lose me," Snape responded softly. He was quiet for a long time. "You are not the only one who remembers what it's like to be alone. You are my son, and I would never do anything to jeopardize that." Harry's arms tightened around his father, but Snape continued, "We are a family. I could no sooner go back to how it was before than I could carve my own heart from my chest. You are a part of me now."

Hearing the words said aloud was comforting, but Harry was still extremely troubled. He pulled himself away so he could meet his father's eyes as he replied, "There's no other choice, Dad. Don't you see? I know I'm young, but I'm not a child. I know it's our very world that's at stake. But I… I'm just…"

Snape gripped him by the shoulders. "It's alright to be afraid, Harry. And to need validation every now and then. I know it will be hard, but I'll continue to tell you as many times as you need to hear it: you are my son, and I love you. Even if you are a stubborn little simpleton sometimes."

"Hey!" Harry chuckled without heat as he wiped at the moisture in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he gazed sadly up at his father. "I don't know how convincing I'm going to be at this. I don't remember how to hate you anymore."

"Have you forgotten how much homework I like to assign?" Snape asked, quirking his lips and arching a sardonic brow. But he quickly sobered. "We will figure out a way to be a family here. Even if I have to assign you detentions for the entire school year just so we can spend time together." The words were serious, but Harry saw the small twitch of his lips.

"You'd better not," Harry murmured. But strangely enough, he found that the thought didn't really bother him.