H.P.

‘I hate mornings,' Harry muttered on his way to the kitchen. ‘Bathroom's yours.'

Ron chuckled as he flung his duvet aside. He didn't say anything about Harry having come back to bed in the middle of the night and he had to have woken Ron up when he walked right into his bed in the dark.

Snape was up already, making a particularly strong tea, but he didn't look too tired for a man who got by on less than five hours' sleep. ‘No nightmare last night,' he commented as Harry walked in.

‘No. Maybe it's because Ron stayed over.'

‘It might be because you barely slept at all.'

‘I've never really had nightmares before now. Not like I've been having lately. It could be because I used to go right back to sleeping in the Tower,' Harry replied, sitting at the table. His foot twitched as a tremor ran through it and he kicked the table leg in irritation.

Snape narrowed his eyes, but didn't comment at the gesture. ‘You think your nightmares have stage fright. They don't want to be heard by four other teenage boys.'

‘Maybe it's harder sleeping in a room alone. I've got more time to think about everything. In the Tower there's distractions.'

Snape didn't say anything for a long time. There was something like guilt and sadness his gaze and Harry had to look away. ‘I haven't meant to isolate you.'

‘I know. Last night was all right though, wasn't it?'

Snape sighed. ‘Yes, he can stay again and no, not more than once a week.'

Harry grinned. Might as well try to get as much as he could while Snape was in a mood to be convinced. ‘What about Hermione?'

‘No.'

‘Why not? She's not exactly a troublemaker.'

Snape paused a fraction, taking a long sip of tea. ‘It wouldn't be appropriate.'

‘What do you mean?' Snape just stared at him steadily until Harry worked it out on his own. His face felt like it was on fire. ‘It's not... I don't... It's Hermione,' he spluttered.

‘And I don't have another room for her.'

‘I'm fourteen.' He'd never thought about that with Hermione.

‘I'm well aware of what goes on in the heads of fourteen-year-old boys,' Snape drawled as he drained his mug.

‘Oh my God.'

A slight smile crept over Snape's face. He was taking some sort of sadistic pleasure in this. ‘I trust we don't need to have that talk at this particular moment.'

‘No. God, no,' Harry groaned, piling his hands over his head. Could he use accidental magic to apparate out of the dungeons?

‘Although, if there is anyone-'

‘Argh. Stop.' Harry clapped his hands over his ears.

‘Ah, Mr Weasley,' Harry just about heard Snape say as he headed out the door. ‘Inform my son when he resurfaces that I'm going down to breakfast.'

Snape didn't lose the smirk as he left the room and Ron whistled as though they'd just had a narrow escape.

‘Never would have thought he'd let you get away with that. You even breathe wrong in class and it's...' Ron traced a line over his throat.

‘Yeah, but that's class. He's not like that here.' Thankfully, Ron didn't seem to have heard what they were talking about. If he even mentioned the possibility of Snape giving Harry the talk, he'd seriously consider obliviate.

Harry slung his bag over his shoulder as his stomach rumbled. ‘He says you can come over again next week if you want.'

Ron wasn't brimming with enthusiasm. He gave a non-committal nod as they headed to breakfast through the dank dungeon corridors, his shoulders tense as they were caught up in the flow of Slytherins heading towards the Great Hall.

The Slytherins that walked alongside them glared and muttered, but none had their wands out. Snape's change of heart was still a raw wound among his House and as far as they were concerned, it was all Harry's fault, but they weren't stupid enough to try anything, not when the faintest whisper could earn them detention. Snape had to have some sadistic punishment in reserve if they did attack him, not that Harry couldn't take them on himself. The Slytherins might not have their wands to hand, but his was up his sleeve.

When they reached the Great Hall, Harry spotted Hermione with her head down and a book propped open in front of her plate. He slipped into the seat beside her and she immediately snapped the book shut. ‘So, how was it?'

‘Alright, I guess,' Ron shrugged as he heaped sausages on his plate. ‘I didn't lose any points and Snape spent almost the whole time in his lab. Harry didn't even have a nightmare or anything.' He turned to Harry. ‘You might as well have been in the Tower.'

Of course he wanted to be back in the Tower. Living most of the week in the dungeons wasn't his idea of fun, especially when Snape was always holed up in his lab. A flicker of hope ignited as an idea began to take shape. ‘I told Snape I probably wouldn't have any nightmares if I just went back to Gryffindor like I normally do. He said Ron can come over again though.'

‘It's not fair to keep you out of Gryffindor if you're ready to come back. I'm sure Professor McGonagall would speak up for you if you told her you want to stay in the Tower,' Hermione replied.

Harry shook his head. ‘Snape doesn't need to fall out with anyone else. He's already mad at Dumbledore.'

‘What's that all about, anyway?' Ron asked with his mouth full, earning a disgusted look from Hermione.

‘He won't say, but I think it has to do with that night,' Harry replied, lowering his voice. ‘He had all these marks down his arms.' He gestured to where he'd seen the deep red welts beneath Snape's sleeve. He'd been restrained, he'd said. ‘Dumbledore stopped him coming to get me when he was summoned. He made him wait and he could hear everything through the stone.'

Hermione nodded sadly. ‘No wonder he's a bit over-protective. I still think you should speak to Professor McGonagall about coming back.'

Harry leant forward. ‘Actually, I don't think I need to. I just need to prove I'm better off back in the Tower and he'll let me come back. He wants the nightmares to stop too.'

‘How are you going to do that then?' Ron asked.

‘Easy.' It was amazing that it took so long to come up with this plan - it was such an obvious solution. ‘I won't take my potion tonight. I'll be fine just like last night and he'll let me stay in the Tower without getting McGonagall involved. He will, really,' Harry insisted when all he got from Ron and Hermione were dubious looks.

Hermione worried her lip. ‘Are you sure not taking your potion is a good idea?'

‘Yes. It's going to work, and I'll be back in the Tower by the end of the week.'

S.S.

Severus tapped his quill against the parchment and scowled as ink spattering the page. "In the event of death, guardianship of dependants shall be passed to:" It wasn't just possible but likely that he would die in this war. The public nature of the adoption as well as his betrayal of the Dark Lord had made him one of the most obvious targets. There was a very real possibility that whoever he chose would become Harry's guardian. If his application was successful, he needed to be ready to write a name on this form, someone Harry trusted, who could protect him from the Dark Lord, the Ministry, even the headmaster if needs be. Someone who would always have a room for him, even after he'd moved out. But who?

A low muttering came from the students cleaning the remnants of slug and spilled potion from desks by hand. A sharp look was enough to restore silence, but Draco met his gaze with a defiant stare.

He'd spelled the adoption paperwork to be readable to only his own eyes, not taking any chances in a classroom filled with resentful Slytherins. Detention was proving to be an effective deterrent but the sheer number he'd given meant that even Filch was running out of tasks. The owlery floor had never been so clean. This cohort, however, he intended to keep a close watch on; any one of them would be a willing pair of eyes for the Dark Lord or their Death Eater parents.

He had a responsibility to his students, to stop them making the same mistakes he made. The dark arts were the least of the appeal for some. Most could be recruited from a desire to belong or would fall for the Dark Lord's promises of power, revenge and status. Others, like Draco, had been groomed to take the mark since childhood.

He dismissed the group with scant minutes to spare before the end of dinner and they began to trudge out, hands red and sore from scrubbing.

‘Stay behind, Mr Malfoy,' he drawled from behind his desk. The child did as he was told, unable or unwilling to hide a look of utter loathing. ‘Today's task wasn't to your liking?'

He waited for an answer, the silencing stretching until Draco dredged up a reluctant ‘No, sir.'

‘I thought as much. A life of servitude would not suit you, Draco.'

The boy raised his chin. ‘I'm no one's servant.'

‘The Dark Lord has already used you when it was convenient to him. Had Harry died the night you were imperiused the wizarding world may not have so easily accepted your explanation, not when your father already used that excuse in the last war.'

‘Your job depends on my father,' Draco spat, blood rising to his pale cheeks. ‘Just wait until he tells the board of governors about this.'

Severus arched a brow. ‘You overestimate your father's influence at this school. If you continue to exhibit poor judgement, you'll keep finding yourself in detention with me. There is no end of unpleasant assignments I can find you if you're determined to demonstrate your eagerness for servitude.'

Severus dismissed him, and the boy strode from the room with his jaw clenched, brimming with indignation. He'd hoped to appeal to his pride, but the Dark Lord promised glory in return for loyalty and Draco had no desire to rebel against his parents. He would have little to report at the Order meeting, for what small task the headmaster could publicly assign him. Of the potion and the horcruxes the Order members must know nothing.

Severus scooped up the enchanted paperwork and tapped his wand on the parchment so that it bound itself in a tight scroll. He tucked it into his robes as he made his way to his fireplace. He scattered the floo powder in the fireplace. ‘12 Grimmauld Place.'

Severus' Dark Mark thrummed in recognition of the foul magic infesting the mutt's childhood home as he stepped cleanly out of the floo. Black had finally found a way to make himself useful to the Order by sharing his latest hiding spot while he wallowed in his own failures and regret.

Severus had allowed the detention to continue long enough that he could avoid unnecessary small talk before the meeting, but there was still a thrum of chatter in the kitchen as he arrived. An assortment of aurors, Gryffindors and questionable acquaintances of the headmaster sat around a long, worn dining table. At the edge of the room a pot was bubbling on the stove, the odour of stew making his mouth water. He'd forgotten to eat dinner again.

There was one space available at the table and Severus narrowed his eyes at being forced to sit beside Mad-Eye Moody who looked decidedly worse for wear since his stint held captive in a trunk. Lupin smiled in welcome without breaking off his conversation with a young woman who hadn't long since left Hogwarts. Some relative of Black's with a ludicrous name.

‘Severus, you're here.' Molly tapped her wand on the stove, the bubbling easing to a gentle simmer. ‘How is Harry?'

‘Well enough,' he replied gruffly, his mind on the blank space on the adoption paperwork once more. The Weasleys had been accommodating to Harry in the past, taking him in during the summer and inviting him for Christmas without asking for anything in return despite having more than a few mouths to feed already.

He broke off his musing as he met Black's unwavering glare. His hair was a dark tangle about his shoulders and the gaunt look he had on his escape from Azkaban had returned. Grimmauld Place was not treating its master well. Severus made no attempt to contain his sneer.

‘We're all here, so we shall begin,' the headmaster declared from the head of the table. Severus deliberately uncurled his fingers from the fists they'd curled into. Sitting at a table with both Black and the headmaster was a test in self-control.

‘Voldemort remains in hiding, but he has rallied his followers and it is clear that whatever he has planned next requires that he go unnoticed. Our efforts will focus on finding out what he has planned and preventing recruitment. Kingsley do you have anything new?'

The auror shook his head. ‘No increase in reports of dark magic. In fact, no uptick in magical crimes at all. Tonks has been keeping an ear out on patrols and Alastor has been using his connections.'

‘My capture was the crime of a madman as far as the ministry is concerned and there's no talk of danger from the ex-aurors,' Moody growled.

‘There may be nothing for the aurors to notice. The Dark Lord could simply be gathering his resources. His first act was to summon his loyal Death Eaters and fewer answered the call than he hoped,' Severus pointed out.

‘You've got a good handle on the way that monster thinks. Takes one to know one, does it?' Black replied.

‘Coming from an attempted murderer. It's enlightening being in your family home. You're not so different from the family you ran away from, are you Black?'

‘Gentlemen,' the headmaster interrupted firmly before the mutt could respond. Black leant back in his seat, the tension visible in his frame and his stare no less intense.

Albus sighed. ‘Remus, has there been any talk among the werewolves?'

‘Nothing of note, but it could be that they don't trust me. It's well known that we're on good terms and that I worked at Hogwarts. It'll take some time to convince them that any good will has soured, but losing my job at the school likely helped.'

‘Are you preventing recruitment or acting as spy?' Severus asked.

Lupin hesitated and the headmaster spoke for him. ‘Voldemort was always quick to approach those who have been marginalised from wizarding society. When he begins to recruit in earnest, the werewolves are likely to know.'

‘And you're not asking him to dissuade them. The Dark Lord is unlikely to recruit Lupin.'

‘Do you think so?' Lupin interjected. ‘People believed I was his spy in the last war.'

‘You're the reason we need a spy. Convenient that you can sit on the side lines for this war and hide behind my godson,' Black said, unable to contain himself.

‘Sirius, stop,' Lupin warned.

‘I'm what stands between Harry and the Dark Lord.'

‘Because you got rid of the blood wards,' Black roared, shrugging off Lupin's hand as he sought to calm him.

‘Enough.' The headmaster's firm tone effectively silenced both men. ‘This conflict does not serve Harry; it only weakens the protections around him. Severus may not be able to act as our spy, but he is well placed to prevent recruitment of those most vulnerable. Have you made any progress?'

Severus dragged his gaze from Black. ‘The anger amongst the Slytherins is palpable. It is one thing to defect and quite another to adopt Harry Potter.'

The wolf caught his eye as the meeting ended, ignoring a foul look from Black as he ducked out of the kitchen where Molly had begun to serve dinner. Severus followed him out to the entrance hall, waiting impatiently beside the severed troll leg that served as a macabre umbrella stand.

‘How is Harry really?' Lupin asked in a low voice so as not to set off the portrait of Black's aunt.

Severus crossed his arms. ‘Are you asking because you want to know or for Black?'

‘Of course Sirius wants to know. He's been in an even fouler mood since we made this place headquarters. Being on bad terms with Harry is weighing on him-'

‘Enough,' Severus snapped. ‘Harry has been tortured, emancipated from his relatives and the Dark Lord wants him killed. He needs to feel safe and you spend your time advocating for Black's needs instead of his.'

‘That's not true. I want what's best for Harry, and that's a relationship with his godfather.'

‘Black hasn't matured since the day he was given that title. Harry does not trust Black, and he hasn't asked to see him. It is you who looks after him when I cannot, it is you he'd rather confide in, and you continue to keep him at arm's length.'

‘James and Lily chose Sirius, and much as you might not like it, he wants to be Harry's godfather. I don't have a right to take his place.'

‘It was a poor choice. They thought you were the spy.'

‘And they knew I was a werewolf,' he replied bitterly.

‘How convenient for you to have a reason for every failure in your miserable life. You cannot hold down a job, you cannot hold your friends to account, and you cannot put my son before Black and all because you're a werewolf,' Severus scathed.

Lupin's eyes flashed with anger, his jaw tight. The image of the slavering beast he becomes once a month appeared before Severus' eyes and he instinctively reached for his wand. Lupin flinched, jerking away as though struck, but he didn't reach for his own. He turned on his heel without another word.

The front door slammed, the noise and its reverberations sweeping open the curtains that covered Walpurga Black. ‘Filthy half-blood traitor!' she screeched, following it up with fouler invective than the wolf could have delivered on his own.

H.P.

The Tower was dark and quiet with most of its inhabitants already asleep as one day became another. The other four Gryffindor boys had long since drawn their curtains and Harry had waited until their breathing evened out and all that could be heard was gentle snoring.

Harry put his book aside and cast a quiet nox to put out the faint light. He placed his enchanted stone, glasses and potion on the nightstand and drew the curtains around his four poster, but he kept his wand by his side.

He probably wouldn't have a nightmare tonight and once he was back in the Tower things would get better for everyone. Ron and Hermione would see that Snape wanted what was best for him and Snape would finally get to sleep through the night. The hourglasses might finally stop being empty and the whole school would stop staring at him like he was broken.

It had to work. If it didn't, nothing would get better.

He checked the curtains to make sure there were no gaps, then picked up his wand. It took three tries for the silencing spell to catch.

‘Ron,' he breathed, then repeated it once more, louder, but there was no sound of shifting or answering whisper in the dark.

He lay down and cleared his mind. There would be no nightmares tonight. None that anyone would hear, anyway.