Chapter 4

Harry fell into Severus, holding his forehead and screaming, until he was suddenly quiet and still. Severus tried to shake the young man into awareness, but Harry was unconscious. Severus's heart pounded against his ribcage as he scooped him up into his arms and made his way to the infirmary as quickly as possible.

Students of every house and year stopped and gaped at the sight of Severus nearly sprinting, carrying Harry Potter in his arms.

Finally, Severus placed Harry gently into a bed as Madame Pomfrey ran towards them. Severus's breath was quick and ragged. Harry was heavy. He was no longer the under-fed eleven-year-old Severus had first met. But, a nearly-full-grown, muscular man.

"What has happened this time?"

"He clutched at his head, screaming, then fell unconscious."

Madame Pomfrey immediately went to work, scanning over Harry's prone form then collected vials of potions from the cabinet, which Severus himself had brewed.

Albus joined them quickly.

"Severus. Was it his scar?"

"Yes."

"It's the Dursleys."

Severus couldn't quite understand the meaning behind the non-sequitur. He willed Albus to elaborate.

"They're dead. Voldemort had them killed just this morning."

Severus took a step backwards. "It must be a warning."

"My thoughts exactly. Harry isn't safe here. Severus, you know what needs to be done."

"Yes, Headmaster."

"While he's still unconscious, Severus. Quickly!"

Severus scooped Harry into his arms once more and carried him to the fireplace of the infirmary, one of only four in the castle connected, limitedly, to the floo network.

Harry heard the scribbling of a quill before he even opened his eyes. He took a deep breath. Surely, he'd be in the infirmary. Well, he made it to the end of October before his first visit. That was a new record.

The scribbling stopped and he felt the weight of someone sitting next to him. A cool cloth was ran across his face.

Slowly Harry forced himself to open his eyes. He blinked a few times but the world around him was still blurry.

"My glasses?" Harry asked hoarsely. They were placed gently onto the bridge of his nose and behind his ears. Blinking again, Severus Snape came into view. And he was not in the infirmary.

"Professor?" Harry tried to sit up but Severus stilled him with a hand on his chest.

"We're in the safehouse. It's the Headmaster's. No one knows where this house is except for you and I, and the Headmaster himself. You're safe here."

"No, I was safe at Hogwarts. Why am I here?"

"No," Severus sighed. "You were not safe there any longer. I am afraid I have some unpleasant news. But, please, you're still quite weak. Please don't sit up."

Harry nodded.

"The Dursleys have been killed in an apparent Death Eater strike."

"They-! They what?!" Severus smoothed his thumb over Harry's chest.

"The Headmaster and I think it was a warning."

Harry's heart pounded. They couldn't be dead. It was official. Harry was the last of his entire family. This couldn't be real.

"Dudley, too?"

"Yes," Severus said, quietly.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't want to cry in front of the professor. Still, the familiar burning of his eyes continued, and then the tears began to stream from the corners of his eyes, down his cheeks, and to his neck.

"They were the only blood family I had left."

"But, you aren't alone, Potter."

"I thought there were protections around their house!"

Severus sighed sympathetically. "It happened right in the middle of Muggle Surrey as they shopped. Apparently, aurors are still there obliviating."

The Dursleys were far from perfect, in fact, they were downright abusive. Harry knew this and yet he couldn't help but to mourn them anyways. The tears fell more quickly.

Harry placed his hand over Severus's that was still on his chest.

"Who were the death eaters?"

"I have yet to be told."

"Don't spare me, professor. I want to know who killed my family."

"I would tell you, if I knew," Severus said quietly.

"Then what do you know?"

"The Headmaster sent a letter. Thus far he has only told me that the aurors are still obliviating muggles, that Minerva will be taking over my classes, that he will visit tonight, and that I am to keep you here until further instruction."

"She's taking over your classes? So you're staying here with me?"

"Seems to be that way."

"You're not going to make me do homework and keep up with classwork, are you?"

"Absolutely not." Severus continued to soothingly rub his thumb over Harry's sternum. "I have homework of my own to do while we are here. I won't have time to be teaching you much of anything."

"You have homework?"

"Look at me." Harry turned his head away and closed his eyes tighter. "Look at me," he repeated more sternly.

Harry conceded and looked at the man, finally.

"I do not break promises. I told you I would find a way for you to survive this, and I intend to do just that."

"You can't go around a prophecy like it's a hole in the road, professor. "

"I think you'd be surprised by the things I can do."

The darkness in the older man's voice sent chills down Harry's spine.

Albus stepped through the floo. Severus looked up from the book in his hands.

Albus looked at the book, then back to Severus. It was a book on prophecies. Albus produced a few shrunken bags from his robes, set them on the coffee table, and returned them to full size. He then produced Harry's trunk and returned it to full size on the floor.

"Just Harry's things, and some food. If you need anything of your own, send me a list and I will bring them on my next visit. You'll find you have spare clothing in the wardrobe upstairs already."

He grunted in acknowledgment and returned to his book.

"Severus, my boy, do you believe I have not tried to find a way around the prophecy? I have found very little."

Severus looked up. "You found little or you found nothing?"

Albus sighed and sat opposite Severus on the sofa. "I found a few things, that ultimately led nowhere."

"Send me your notes on that," Severus demanded.

"I will, Severus, but I think you are wasting your time. The best thing you could be doing right now is to make Harry feel less alone in this world. Help him prepare."

Severus stood suddenly, letting his book hit the floor with a loud thud. "I will be damned if I will just sit down and wait for him to die!"

"You have to," came a voice behind Severus.

The two men looked towards the stairs where Harry stood.

"Hello, Headmaster." Harry continued his way down the stairs and into the sitting room. Harry looked utterly disheveled. He'd been asleep most of the day, still in his pyjamas from the night before.

Harry made his way to the empty chair, passing his trunk of things.

"Thank you, Headmaster. I need a bath terribly. It'll be nice to be in some clean clothes." Harry sat in the chair and smiled cheerily at the two men on the other side of the coffee table from him. "Alright! So, what are we going to do about this?"

"My dear boy," Albus said gently. "You're not in any state to be doing much of anything presently."

"Who killed them? They were the last of my family. I'm not going to sit here and continue to be useless. I'm going to die, yes? Okay then, I've made my peace with that." Harry's face became more serious. "What I have not made my peace with is that you were content to let me waste my time in those fucking useless classes instead of putting me to work. People are out there being tortured right now. They are dying. So, what are we going to do about this?"

Albus's face was so full of pity it made Severus sick.

"Nothing. Not yet. It's not the right time."

Harry slammed his hands down against the arms of the chair. "Then, when will be the right time?!"

Albus stood slowly. "I'll see you gentlemen next week. If there is anything you need, Fawkes will be by to collect any post you have and you may send me a letter."

Albus stepped through the floo.

Severus looked at Harry. "Are you hungry?"

Harry looked at him sheepishly. "I'm sorry, Professor."

"What ever for?"

"I did a good bit of screaming…"

"You are permitted to scream. You may shout, cry, lash out. The task you are faced with is not an easy one. It would be farcical to expect you to be emotionless."

Harry stood, smiling. "Thank you. Erm, could I help you with dinner?"

Severus smirked. "Do you know how to cook?"

"Yes, actually. Aunt Petunia always-" Severus saw Harry's smile shift instantly back to pain. Harry sniffled once. "Anyways, I always did the cooking at the Dursley's. As soon as I could stand on a stool and reach a stove, I was cooking."

Severus carried the bags to the kitchen and the two sifted through them.

He grimaced. "It seems we are having pasta."

Harry chuckled as he looked down at the table, now piled high with several different types of noodles, sauces, and meats.

Harry said he'd always been fond of fettucine, and so fettucine it was.

The two men squeezed themselves in front of the small stove. Severus cooked the chicken in an iron pan, while Harry heated the sauce and boiled the noodles.

Their elbows and hips continuously made contact. Severus would have insisted he could do it himself, that it was impractical to both try to cook on one stove top, but it didn't seem to bother Harry. In fact, he seemed rather at peace.

Harry and Severus piled their plates with pasta.

They were each halfway through their meals when Harry finally spoke. "How long do you think we will be here?"

Severus took a deep breath and looked around the room as if the walls held the answer.

"With the Headmaster, Merlin knows, but I anticipate we will be here until Christmas, at least."

"I'm sorry."

"Why do you insist on apologizing for everything? If you haven't noticed, Potter, none of this is your fault."

"It's just that I'm sure you'd rather be anywhere than stuck here with me in this old house."

"That is absolutely not true. There are a great many places I'd dislike far more than here… even with you."

Harry smiled a huge, toothy smile at him and Severus couldn't stop the grin that pulled at the corners of his lips.

It was easy to see why Harry had so many people who cared about him. Despite the attention of the public he received daily, which Severus had erroneously believed Harry enjoyed, he had a way about him that made everyone he spoke to feel like they were the only person that mattered in that moment. And, despite his poor marks in potions which would indicate otherwise, Harry was very attentive. He read body language easily and responded in kind, no doubt a symptom of the abuse he'd received as a child. Severus had noticed in his own Slytherin students who'd been abused, that they all read body language, seeking out if what they were doing was pleasing to the adult in the room, or if they were about to receive a beating. Still, it made Harry not an abhorrent conversationalist.

As Harry chewed his last bit of pasta, Severus watched him closely. The boy ate quickly, again another symptom of the abuse he'd endured. It was clear from his tiny frame in his first year that he'd been denied food. Severus had suffered abuse as well, but was always fed. It stirred so many question in Severus's mind that he found it difficult to stay quiet, and so he didn't.

Harry took a sip of water, and Severus watched his Adam's apple bob, the muscles in his neck move. Harry made eye contact with him, noticing that he'd been staring.

"I can always tell when you want to say something, but are holding back," Harry said. Indeed, Harry was astute when it came to body language.

"It's not the time for my questions."

"I've fought Voldemort. I can handle questions."

"If I make you uncomfortable, please tell me so. I was just wondering why you seem so distressed by the loss of the Dursleys. I've come to believe they were abusive to you."

"Yes, they were. Every night I'd lie in that cupboard under the stairs and pray to the universe that someone would take me out of there." Harry grinned. "Hagrid finally did, of course, but every summer I would have to go back and dread it like a march to my own death." Harry swallowed hard and continued, becoming emotional. "Still, Petunia and Dudley were the only blood relatives I had left. They were not wonderful people, but I will mourn them. I loved them, in my own way."

Severus placed his hand over Harry's. Harry continued, "And, no death is a death to rejoice in. I believe anyone can change. Maybe they would have… one day… and that chance has been taken from them."

"Anyone can change," Severus repeated, thinking deeply about those words.

Yet just another way that Harry stood apart from anyone else Severus knew. The boy saw the absolute best in those around him, even abusive muggles. Harry seemed wise and understanding, much beyond his seventeen years.

"Yes. You taught me that."

Severus furrowed a questioning brow. "I did? I doubt I've taught you anything…" Severus began.

"You changed," Harry said, factually. "The headmaster gave you that chance to change, didn't he? Isn't it only right to give everyone the benefit of the doubt?"

Before Severus could respond, Harry looked down at his empty plate. "Speaking of giving people second chances… Do you think the Headmaster would let me see Sirius and Remus?"

"I don't believe he would. No one in, no one out. Save for him, of course."

Harry looked up and added hurriedly. "It's not that I mind being here with you. I don't at all. It's just that I miss them."

"Give it some time here, and I will ask Albus if there is a way for you to see them."

Harry smiled gratefully. One more thing to make Harry different: he was so damned easy to please.