“Headmaster, Potter cannot return to his Muggle relatives,” Severus said. “They are abusive towards the boy.”

Dumbledore gave Severus a steady look. “I know.”

Severus' eyes hardened. “You know?”

Dumbledore clasped his hands on his desk. “I haven’t completely ignored the boy since I placed him in Privet Drive. I have kept watch to ensure no danger has entered that house.”

“And you’ve done nothing?” Severus snarled.

“What is it you expected me to do?” Dumbledore said, leaning back in his chair.

“Stop it! Take him away! Anything besides letting him be beaten all his life!” Severus shouted. “I had hoped you would have learned after me!”

“He cannot leave Privet Drive,” Dumbledore said. “And there was nowhere you could have gone.”

“You know as well as I do that I could have become a ward of Hogwarts and the same could be done for Potter,” Severus said in a dangerously low voice.

“The Ministry will not allow Harry to become a ward of the school,” Dumbledore said.

“The Ministry does not have a say in it, which you know perfectly well.” Severus glared. “Why do you refuse to help the boy?”

Dumbledore’s face became steely. “I am helping him. I am helping him learn to survive. He needs the strength to fight and survive the war that is coming.”

“Do not put a man’s war on a child,” Severus said.

“It was done the moment that prophecy was brought to Voldemort.”

Severus took a physical step back at the harsh words and he knew pain had crossed his face. He had no time to respond as the office door opened behind him, admitting Lucius Malfoy.

“My apologies for interrupting,” Lucius said. “Severus, something has happened.”

“What is it?” Severus said.

“It’s Harry,” Lucius said. “He’s in the Hospital Wing. He’s been hurt.”

Severus felt his heart drop and he swiftly followed Lucius down to the Hospital Wing. He couldn’t believe the suffocating fear he was feeling at the thought of Harry being hurt. He didn’t question it anymore; he knew what it meant. He knew he cared about the child. He was surprised how much he cared but that was all.

They rushed into the Wing and over to the bed occupied by an unconscious Harry. Madam Pomfrey was still treating the wounds Harry had acquired. The boy’s arm was bent at a strange angle and there was a large gash running from his right temple into his hair.

“What happened?” Severus asked.

“I found him,” Lucius said, “at the bottom of some stairs. Seems he fell.”

“He only just left my rooms an hour or so ago,” Severus said. “How did this happen?”

“I do not believe he fell,” Pomfrey said and both men frowned deeply. “From his injuries, it appears he hit the stairs backwards but much harder than if he had simply fallen. I believe he was pushed.”

“Pushed?” Lucius said, startled. “Who would do such a thing?”

“Unfortunately there are many,” Severus said. “How is he, Poppy?”

The woman sighed. “He is very bruised and his arm is broken. However, the worst is his head. He hit it very hard and he has a terrible crack in his skull. I won’t know if there are any effects until he wakes up…if he wakes up.”

“He may not?” Lucius said quietly.

“With the extent of this injury, there is a possibility,” Pomfrey said.

Severus stayed silent and stared down at the child, worried. He gently touched the boy’s hair and then stroked his cheek. The fear was still present and he could tell it wasn’t going to leave anytime soon. He had to know Harry would be alright. The idea of losing the child was unfathomable. He never knew he could care about someone so much, least of all Harry Potter.

Yet it had happened and he wasn’t unhappy about it. The boy had begun to change him for the better.

“You are staying with the boy?” Pomfrey said, stepping back as she finally finished treating Harry’s injuries.

“Yes,” Severus said, automatically pulling up a chair. He watched as Lucius did the same on the other side of the bed.

“Very well,” Pomfrey said with a nod. “Come get me if anything changes.”

“I will, Poppy,” Severus said and the medi-witch slipped into her office.

“I’m sure he will be fine, Severus,” Lucius said.

“We don’t know that,” Severus said. “He hit his head so hard. Not even magic can fix such a wound.”

“He’s strong,” Lucius said. “I’m sure he can pull through.”

“He hasn’t been feeling too strong this year,” Severus said, sighing and lightly brushing Harry’s hair.

Lucius cast a sad glance at the boy. “What happened? If Harry left your rooms an hour ago, he wasn’t there very long.”

Severus sighed and took his hand away from Harry’s hair as though he may suddenly hurt the boy. “I told him. I told him about the Mark and what I did, what I caused. He didn’t take it well.”

“What did he say?” Lucius asked.

“Nothing, he just ran.”

Lucius looked at his friend sympathetically, catching the sad expression the man had as he stared down at Harry. It was fascinating watching their relationship grow. They needed each other so desperately and didn’t even know it.

“Give him some time to process,” Lucius said.

“He may not have time!” Severus shouted jumping to his feet. “This may be it and the last thing he’ll remember about me is something terrible.”

Lucius just reached out and clasped Harry’s hand, hoping to provide some comfort as he watched his friend.

“I could never be his guardian, especially now,” Severus whispered before sweeping out of the infirmary.

“Got yourself in some trouble this time,” Ron said, throwing stones as far as he could. 

“When don’t I?” Harry said, staring up at the dark, cloudy sky. “I don’t remember everything.”

“Hit your head pretty hard, mate, it’s not surprising,” Ron said.

“Am I going to die?”

“I hope not. You should be able to wake up if you listen.”

“Listen? Listen to what?”

“Lucius and Snape. You’ll hear them when you’re ready.”

Harry tensed at the mention of Snape. He looked at Ron when he heard a deep sigh.

“Why did you run away from Snape that night?” Ron asked.

“Because he’s a Death Eater! He told me and showed me the Mark!” Harry said loudly.

“You hurt him by running.”

“Like I care. He probably doesn’t even care about me, just working for his ‘Lord’.”

“Harry,” Ron said with a sigh. “Having the Mark doesn’t mean Death Eater.”

“That’s the only thing it means. Why else would someone have it?”

“A mistake,” Ron said and Harry looked at him, eyebrows furrowed. “Protecting a family? There are other reasons. Mr. Malfoy, for instance, has some other reasons which you’ve accepted. So why are you judging Snape?”

Harry didn’t answer for a time, looking out into the dim distance in thought. Why was he judging Snape when he didn’t judge Mr. Malfoy? They had the same Mark, had followed the same madman, had both apparently turned away from that side…so what was different? He hadn’t even let Snape tell him everything; he’d just run away.

He was always running away and what had it ever gotten him? Loneliness, sadness, distance from people who had only tried to care about him…

That’s all Snape had clearly been trying and learning to do. They had both been learning. Learning to care and let someone into their lives. And at the first sign of something difficult, he ran. He had expected Snape would be the one to pull away but it had been him. He had focused on the bad and had completely ignored the fact that Snape had said he had known Harry’s mother. Someone knew his mother rather than his father! Sure, everyone had known them both, but it was only ever James that was really talked about.

“Harry?”

He turned to look at Ron again.

“You have a chance,” Ron said, “if you give him a chance.”

Harry’s eyes slowly slid open, cringing at the bright light that made his head pound. A searing pain ran steadily through his skull and he groaned. The agony was making the voices around him muffled and all images were blurry beyond recognition. He also couldn’t seem to capture a single thought. It was all a jumbled, incoherent mess and it hurt to even try.

“Harry? Don’t try to move, dear, just stay still and relax,” a feminine voice said gently.

“Wha’—“

“You had a bit of a nasty fall down some stairs,” the woman said. “You hit your head very hard.”

He fell down stairs? When? How?

“Are you in pain?” the voice asked.

“Yeah,” Harry rasped.

“Here’s a potion for the pain.” Cool glass was pressed against his lips and he managed to part them just enough to swallow the liquid. “Very good, dear. I’m going to ask you some questions to make sure you have no permanent damage from your head wound.”

Harry gave a short nod, grateful for the fast-acting potion.

“What is your name?”

“Harry...Harry James Potter.”

“What is your age?”

“I’m four...fourteen.”

“What year is it?”

“Nineteen ninety-five.”

“Very good. You seem to be alright, but you will still be here for at least another week.”

Harry nodded again, blinking as his vision finally cleared. He spotted Madam Pomfrey first, watching her walk to her office. He slowly moved one and was shocked to see Mr. Malfoy and Snape on either side of his bed.

“How’re you feeling, Mr. Potter?” Mr. Malfoy asked.

But Harry didn’t answer. His eyes were locked on Snape. There were stirrings in his chest and in his mind. He could tell there was something he was forgetting, something that happened while he was unconscious, and he knew it was important but he just couldn’t remember. However, he did remember that Snape had the Dark Mark and he couldn’t help the fearful, betrayed feeling he had.

“Harry?” Snape said. 

“Get out,” Harry said quietly, hurt bleeding into his voice.

“Harry—“

“Get out! Leave me alone!” Harry shouted and dropped his eyes to his lap. He missed Snape’s pained face and the way the man looked across at Mr. Malfoy. The blonde gave an uncertain, sympathetic look to his friend, watching as the Potions master slowly left the Hospital Wing. Harry closed his eyes as tears began to fall.

“Mr. P—“

“Just ‘Harry’, please, sir,” Harry whispered. He ran his fingers over the bandaging on his right arm.

“Harry,” Mr. Malfoy conceded. “What is the matter?”

“Nothing, I’m fine,” Harry said shortly.

Mr. Malfoy regarded the child, noticing but not commenting on the tears. He moved his gaze to the bandage on Harry’s temple. Red had started to show through. “How is your head?”

Harry shrugged. “Potion helped. Doesn’t hurt now.”

“Do you remember what happened?”

Harry shook his head. “I remember leaving Snape’s rooms and going up to Gryffindor Tower. I don’t remember falling or being pushed.”

Mr. Malfoy slowly reached up to the bandage then paused. “May I?”

Harry met the man’s eyes. He recognized the expression. He had seen it from Snape several times. His chest ached with the affection and with the slight remorse about Snape. He nodded and kept their eyes connected as Mr. Malfoy’s fingers lightly touched the bandage, and brushed his hair aside. Unintentionally, his eyes closed at the touch, soaking in the gentleness.

“Can you tell me what’s happened between you and Professor Snape?” Mr. Malfoy said, bringing his hand down to rest on the boy’s arm.

Harry’s eyes fell again. “You’ll just take his side.”

“We may be friends, but I don’t side with him if he is wrong.”

Harry chewed his lip. Mr. Malfoy was probably one of the best people to talk to about the whole thing. “He told me about the Dark Mark, showed it to me.” He felt tears build up again. “He said he was part of the reason my parents were killed. He-he’s a Death Eater! I thought he cared about me!”

“Harry,” Mr. Malfoy said earnestly, squeezing his arm. “I think you’ve misunderstood.”

“Pretty easy to understand,” Harry snapped, a few tears falling. “Having the Mark doesn’t mean much else.”

“Perhaps, but the reasoning behind getting the Mark may provide a different insight.”

“Why else would someone have it besides being a Death Eater?”

“A mistake? Protecting a family? There are other reasons.”

Harry raised his eyes to Mr. Malfoy with a frown. There was a strong feeling of déjà vu attached to the blonde’s words. It was as though he had heard them before.

“Now, the professor does care about you, very much,” Mr. Malfoy said. “It’s why he told you this. He didn’t want to keep such a secret from you.”

“He said he caused their deaths,” Harry said weakly.

Mr. Malfoy sighed and gave him a sad look. “That is something you will have to talk to him about.”

“I don’t think I can,” Harry said. “How am I supposed to trust him?”

“He hasn’t changed, Harry,” the man said. “He’s still the same man he was before he told you. He’s still the same man that’s been helping you and taking care of you. You just know a little bit more about him.”

“It changes everything!” Harry argued.

“How?” Mr. Malfoy challenged.

“Because he lied! He didn’t tell me! He’s just like everyone else!” A sob tumbled out of his mouth.

“How is he like everyone else?”

“Everyone’s always lied. They’ve never cared. They just want to hurt me.”

“Harry—“

Harry shook his head and pulled his arm away, using it to wipe his damp face. “Just go, Mr. Malfoy, please. I’d rather be alone.”

Mr. Malfoy’s face fell and he let out a deep breath. He pushed himself reluctantly to his feet. “I think it’d be alright if you called me ‘Lucius’. I think we can pass this formality.”

Harry said nothing and kept his eyes locked on his hands. He listened to the man’s steps as they got further away before disappearing. As soon as the silence descended, Harry lay on his side and let the rivers of tears fall freely down his cheeks onto the pillow.

“Glad to see you back, Potter,” Moody grumbled as Harry walked into the Defense classroom. Harry stared at the old Auror as he took his seat. He glanced at the board and blanched at what was written.

Morsmorde.

This had to be a joke. The man couldn’t possibly be teaching them about the Dark Mark. Was Moody trying to make himself look like a Dark wizard and a follower of Voldemort?

Harry looked around, noticing shocked faces around the room. He frowned deeply at the professor and gave a shake of his head. He grabbed his bag and immediately walked out of the class.

“Potter!” Moody called. “Where d’you think you’re goin’?”

“Not feeling well,” Harry said shortly and left. He leaned against the wall once out in the corridor. He breathed slowly, trying to calm the anxiety that had filled him when he had seen Moody. He’d always been uncomfortable around the man but this was different. It was stronger and more a fear of being harmed. He felt Moody could actually harm him.

He considered what to do and finally decided to go outside. He quickly summoned his cloak as he headed out, smiling a little to himself at how easy it had become. He walked along the Black Lake for a time, still wondering how he was meant to survive in the Second Task. Anything he had found was way too advanced for him to even try.

He looked away and continued on, changing his path to head towards the Quidditch Pitch. He hadn’t been to the pitch much that year with the tournament and everything else. It was empty and he sat in the Gryffindor stands.

As he settled, he glanced at the Slytherin stands. He hadn’t spoken to Lucius—it was still very weird thinking of Mr. Malfoy like that—or Snape in nearly a week. He had finally been released from the Hospital Wing the day before. In his final week there, neither of the men had returned. Despite what had happened, despite having told them to leave, it still hurt to receive no more visits. They were the only adults he had in his life. He didn’t want to lose them.

So why are you pushing them away? Ron’s voice interrupted.

“Harry!”

He looked up and found the Weasley twins heading his way. He smiled as they climbed up a few rows and sat on the one just below him.

“How’s it going, kid?” Fred said.

Harry shrugged. “Alright, I guess.”

“Considering you’re supposed to be in class, something must be going on,” George said and Harry sighed.

“Moody,” Harry said. “I just don’t get very good feelings around him.”

“You’ve noticed it too?” George said, causing Harry to frown at them. “We know Moody, through our dad.”

“And while he’s always been paranoid and crazy,” Fred continued, “there’s something different."

“What’s different?” Harry said.

“He’s…” The twins looked at each other, “sadistic. He was never sadistic.”

“Dumbledore would know if there was something wrong with Moody, wouldn’t he? He obviously knows Moody,” Harry said.

The twins nodded. 

“It’s probably nothing then,” Harry said, looking out to the Pitch. “Probably just paranoid from…everything.”

“Probably,” the twins said.

They fell silent for a while, dwelling on thoughts of their odd professor.

“How’s your head?” George asked, breaking the silence.

“It’s all healed up, but I still don’t remember what happened after I left Snape’s rooms,” Harry said. “Madam Pomfrey said everything points to me being pushed, but I just don’t remember.”

“It was probably some Slytherins,” Fred said.

“Or even Seamus,” George added.

“I don’t think it was Seamus,” Harry said, shaking his head. “He’s just all talk. He could never actually do anything.”

The twins nodded in agreement.

“So, what do you remember from before you left the dungeons?” Fred asked pointedly.

“It was just a meeting with Snape,” Harry said vaguely.

“Whatever happened in that meeting has caused you to stop talking to him,” Fred said.

“It’s been over a week since you’ve been down to his rooms,” George said.

“So, what? It’s not like I live there,” Harry said, hoping they could avoid the rest of the topic.

“No, but it’s where you like to be,” George said. “And you used to like being with Snape?”

“What happened?” Fred asked.

“Nothing,” Harry said shortly.

“Harry,” they pushed.

“I’m not sure I should talk about it,” he argued weakly.

“You know we wouldn’t tell.”

Harry looked at them, chewing his bottom lip. Eventually, he sighed deeply. “Snape told me something bad and I’m trying to figure it all out.”

“What was it?”

Harry felt his expression tighten and he looked past the twins again at the open field. “He’s got the Dark Mark and somehow he was involved in my parents’ murders.”

Fred and George stared at him in a stunned silence. Harry tried to focus on something else to stop the anger he felt building up.

“Did he tell you anything else? Like why he took the Mark? Or how he was involved in the attack? Or why he was telling you?” George said.

Harry shook his head again. “I left after he told me. I didn’t want to hear anymore.”

“You didn’t let him explain?” Fred said and then sighed when Harry stayed quiet. “Harry, you need to hear everything.”

“Why? Why should I listen to anything else from him? He’s nothing but a liar and a traitor,” Harry snapped angrily.

“Harry, don’t you say that,” George said, almost admonishing the younger Gryffindor.

“How could you even think that?” Fred said. “He has done nothing but help you this year.”

“And he’s cared about you,” George added. “You’ve got an adult that cares about you.”

“But how do I know any of it was real?” Harry said, his eyes growing sad. “How can I trust anything from him anymore?”

“How has anything changed?” Fred asked. “Isn’t he still the same person?”

Harry shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know, that’s the thing.”

“Don’t you think you should find out?” Fred said. 

“Give him a chance?” George said.

“But he was loyal to Voldemort!” Harry argued. “He took the Mark. He made that choice. He did things with the Death Eaters for Voldemort because he was loyal.”

“Does that mean he still is?” Fred said. “Look at Lucius Malfoy. What’s the difference?”

Harry dropped his head with a quiet sob. “He’s supposed to care about me.”

The twins just looked at each other, realizing they had no idea how to help their young friend. They sat with Harry in comforting silence.

“He won’t talk to me or even look at me anymore, Lucius,” Severus said, running a hand over his face in distress.

“You had to tell him, Severus,” Lucius said.

“Did I?” Severus said. “Seems things were going better before I told him.”

“Well, of course they were. Did you expect him to just accept all of this instantly?”

“You said he would,” Severus argued. “All that stuff about how he accepted you and your Mark so he should do the same for me.”

“He will accept it,” Lucius said, “with time. He was able to accept my situation because we had no relationship. You two do, though, and he’s going to need time.”

“How long am I meant to wait?”

“Why the hurry?”

Severus let out a breath. “I want to become his guardian.”

Lucius’ eyes widened. “His guardian?”

Severus nodded. “He can’t go back to his relatives and Dumbledore isn’t going to do anything. The boy needs someone.”

“You think you’re ready for that?” Lucius said and Severus looked at him seriously.

“I know I can’t just ignore and abandon him, not anymore.”

Lucius gave him a smile. His friend had finally found what he truly needed in his life. “So what are you going to do?”

“I will give him time,” Severus said. “Maybe he will eventually come to me. If not, I will figure something out.”

“What about the guardianship? Your application will never make it past Dumbledore or Fudge?”

Severus gave him a pointed look. “As if you weren’t already aware of this part. You know I would be asking you to pull favour at the Ministry.”

Lucius chuckled. “True, I knew right away and of course I will do what I can.”

“Thank you, Lucius,” Severus said and then sighed. “I just hope your help will be needed.”