Lily's Charm

1996

Severus stared at his son, wanting to do nothing more than leap at him, to grab him and shake him violently. How dare he say those things about Lily? Harry knew nothing of her. But of course he didn't; Severus had made sure of that, hadn't he? The livid vision of himself reaching forward and yanking Harry by the arms, to completely dispel his rage swam in front of his eyes, darkening him, soothing him until he almost snapped. And then he saw another boy, being roughly grabbed and shaken brutally, the tall dark-haired man screaming obscenities at him, his words punctuated with sharp blows to the boy's face, and then Severus saw Harry again.

Harry.

No!

Harry's mouth snapped closed as a look of horror washed over his face. Severus' teeth were lodged together so forcibly, they'd gone numb and he could feel himself beginning to tremble as he fought himself to remain still, to keep his fury from unleashing itself on the frightened boy in front of him. And with everything Severus had, he made himself turn away. He had to, or else he would hurt his son.

So Severus turned away, walking as quickly as he could while he tried to stop the frantic breathing that was trying to overtake him. But it was so quiet, he could hear Harry's own anxious breathing behind him. Severus forced himself to ignore it. He could not go back. His vision was beginning to swim again but he pushed it away until he reached his door.

Harry would be safe.

Severus opened the door and stepped through, allowing himself to feel some of the rage as it started pouring out and with a blistering anger, he slammed the door with all his strength. Not nearly satisfying enough.

Harry's words washed over him again as he stood there staring at Lily's desk, and with a vicious snarl born, Severus flung the chair from where it stood, and then he wasted no time in giving the heavy desk a mighty shove so that it was upended, a testament to his rapidly rising fury. And in those next minutes, Severus completely lost control and nobody but he existed. He was completely alone. And there was nothing but hurt.

He had abandoned his son. Condemned him to ten years of hatred at the hands of people who should have loved him, should have given a damn about him. And then for five years, Severus had tortured him, abused him in ways for which he would never forgive himself. Harry should never forgive him either.

No matter how much his son professed to be okay, no matter how much Lily had said Harry had needed to love him, how could his son love a creature so wretched, so foul as he? He was a man filled with hate, with such darkness that there was nothing but cruel bile; he should be a father to no one. It didn't matter how much he loved his son. He didn't deserve Harry and he never would. In a final thrust of rage, Severus smashed both of his fists into the sturdy oak bureau; he relished in the blinding pain.

When he came back to himself, Severus was standing in a floundering mess, surrounded by the remnants of his anger. The bedcovers were torn from their perch, the night table and its pictures strewn across the floor; his knuckles were bloodied. Severus' anger was drained now...spent. The violence he'd enacted on his wife's furniture would never touch his son. Tobias would not pass on his legacy.

Using the bare mattress to lean one of his abused hands on, Severus bent to retrieve the frame that had crashed against the stone floor. He straightened again, staring at the boy blinking back up at him. Albus had given the photo to him over a month ago and Severus had placed it next to his only other photo. He didn't stoop to pick that one up; she would be ashamed of him today.

Severus ran his thumb along the inside edge of the frame, taking in the sorrow-filled emerald eyes of his boy; it had only been days since Harry had lost Black. And now, only weeks after Harry had thought he'd lost Severus, Severus had completely failed him. How could he stand here and demand that Harry learn to control his emotions when he couldn't even do it himself?

He had let his concern morph itself into anger, as he so often had in the past. Who the hell was he to tell Harry not to hit a taunting, bullying little shit? Severus had hexed more than one bully in his life; he shook his head in rueful remembrance of the many times he'd punished Harry's beloved godfather for his cruelty. And even James...

True, Lupin had usually escaped his ire, especially after the incident at the Whomping Willow... Severus shook his head, cutting off the unproductive line of thought.

He truly was not suited to be anyone's father, and certainly not Harry's. With a distracted sigh, Severus began righting his room again; it wouldn't do for Harry to see just how much his words had affected him, and with a pang of guilt, he was grateful that the Silencing Spell surrounding his room had kept Harry from hearing his tantrum.

"Damn," he muttered as he finally squatted down to pick up Lily's picture once everything else had been put back in its proper place--the glass had cracked with the force of his violence. It wasn't the first time he'd broken a picture of his beloved wife.

Severus frowned as he cast a Reparo on the glass, thinking of Highlands Cottage, where he'd sequestered himself after he'd abandoned his family. He hadn't been there in years. He had been surprised that Harry had shown an interest in going there, although in retrospect it made sense.

With a last look at Lily's smiling face, Severus set the frame next to his son's picture and turned back toward his door. His anger spent now, more than anything, he wanted to talk to his son. If Harry would let him...

--

Harry flinched as the door slammed. He felt cold...icy with fear.

What had he done?

How could he have said those things to his father? He hadn't meant them...he knew he hadn't. Of course his mum had loved him. Harry had seen it with his own eyes and he knew without even thinking it over that she must have welcomed him back without hesitation. And Harry felt all of sudden wretched. How could he have brought up those awful memories?

Reminding his father of how he had left had been cruel. Plain and simple. And he hadn't even realized he was still hurt over it. He had even told his father that he'd forgiven him. He had forgiven him. Harry felt sick as he stared into the corridor.

He wanted to run after his father, to try to explain that he hadn't meant what he'd said...not any of it. But he couldn't move. His father had been furious and though it made Harry ill to admit it, for a brief moment, he had been afraid. Afraid that Severus would hit him; Harry shuddered.

His father would hate him now. Any minute, he would storm out and order him to leave, and Harry knew he would deserve it.

Shame coursed through him as he stood there, wishing he could call the words back; how could he have been so heartless? His father had been carrying around the guilt of his mistakes for fifteen years and Harry had actually been callous enough to throw it in his face? Severus had been right about his need for control, and now his temper was going to cost him his father.

Not even bothering to fight against the tears forming in his eyes, Harry turned toward the Floo. Maybe if he could just leave before his father had to tell him to, he could spare the man any more pain. Harry paused, with his fingers over his father's ebony box of Floo Powder. It would probably be best if Harry didn't leave anything behind; his father didn't need any reminders of his coldhearted son.

Swallowing painfully through the harsh emotion, Harry turned and walked with tentative steps toward the room his father had given him. His room; his father had accepted him and Harry had ruined it. But of course he had; nobody had ever wanted him so why should this be any different?

Harry didn't mean to stop in front of his father's door; he didn't mean to stare at the heavy wooden door. Maybe if he just knocked...tried to explain. Harry bit his lip. His father wouldn't forgive him...

He turned away.

Harry walked into his room, and went without thinking to the little table beside the bed. His mum's photo album. Harry Snape. The name stabbed him dully in the chest.

He picked up the leather-bound book, sitting heavily on the bed as the remorse and guilt swept over him. What the hell had he done? He didn't want to leave. He wanted to stand up and march back to his father's door and demand that his father forgive him, but with another wave of shame, he knew he had no right.

He'd already told his father he forgave him...for everything. He would never believe that he hadn't meant what he'd said, and there was no way Harry could ask for forgiveness when his father wouldn't understand that he'd been forgiven as well. There wouldn't be any way to make him understand.

Severus had done everything he could do to atone for his mistake and Harry, the entire time, had pushed against it. Pulling the photo album like a lifeline into his chest, Harry stared desolately at his father's door.

--

Ginny's fingers were curled tightly against her palms, her finger nails grazing the skin in agitation. She had no trouble keeping up with Lupin's longer strides. She was walking so swiftly, she was having a hard time not breaking into a run.

"Ginny."

Professor Lupin's gentle voice startled her out of her reverie. And then she realized the voice had come from behind her and she halted. She turned around sharply, about to demand why he had stopped, but the concern wrinkling his features stopped her. She let out a sigh.

"Sorry," she offered. Lupin frowned down at her.

"Ginny, if you'd like to talk about it, I'll listen," he told her seriously and Ginny shook her head, agitated all over again.

"If he does anything to Harry-" she couldn't even finish the threat, she was so worried and her fists clenched more tightly at her sides. Lupin tilted his head in confusion.

"Ginny, Severus would never lay a hand on Harry," he told her, sounding surprised that she would suggest such a thing. Ginny shook her head, frustrated.

"I know that," she agreed. Ginny had seen the two of them together and each time Snape had interacted with Harry, she had been shocked at how gentle the Potions Master was. It was though Snape was terrified that Harry would crack with the slightest jostle, as though Harry was as delicate as one of the spun glass ornaments her mum decorated their Christmas tree with each year. And each time Ginny had seen them together, her respect and admiration for the man had grown...until today.

Snape had been livid in the Hospital Wing and Ginny had seen that same look before. Out by the Whomping Willow; the day that all of Harry's insecurities about his father's abandonment had finally come tumbling out. But before they had, Ginny had witnessed how harsh Harry's father could be and she had seen how much he really had hurt Harry. And if he did that again today, well...Ginny would see that Snape would regret it. All of it.

"What do you mean then?" Lupin prodded after she'd lost herself in her thoughts. Ginny clenched her jaw.

"You saw the look he gave Harry," she said pointedly. "It's like he reverted back for an instant to the old Professor Snape." She shook her head angrily again. "If he stays that way, I don't think Harry will be able to handle it." Lupin studied her, seeming to consider her words.

"Ginny," he finally said, his voice gentle again, "Severus cares about Harry-"

Ginny made a slashing motion with her hand, scowling deeply. "I know that, Professor. But a person can't change completely. And he's never had a real reason to be angry with Harry. What if he insults Harry, just like he used to, sneering all over the place and calling him a worthless show-off?" Lupin looked away quickly and Ginny tensed, seeing that Lupin was worried about the same thing happening. She took a step toward the professor.

"You think it's a possibility, don't you?" she demanded. She didn't think he would answer but finally, he turned back and nodded, his eyes full of sadness. She folded her arms across her chest. "We have to go check on them, then," she decided firmly, but as soon as she said it, Lupin was shaking his head. She opened her mouth to argue but Lupin held up his hand.

"If you or I go charging in there every time the two of them have a problem, it only reinforces that Severus hasn't changed...that Harry still needs our help." Ginny closed her mouth slowly. Lupin smiled at her.

"Severus is a different person than even before Halloween. He won't let anything come between them, Ginny...even if he turns into Snape again for a bit, they'll get through it," he told her firmly. Ginny pursed her lips.

"You trust him that much?" she asked. Lupin nodded immediately.

"Yes, I do," he said seriously, his eyes firm and Ginny relaxed a little.

"All right," she conceded with a nod. "But will you check in with Professor Snape later, anyway...tonight?" she asked, still concerned, as she had been all week, for Harry. Lupin chuckled as he nodded his acquiescence. They started walking again toward the Great Hall.

"I'm still worried about Harry though," she confided as they walked. When Lupin gave her a quizzical glance, she explained, "He's been acting very funny lately. He gets angry at the littlest thing and then he's fine again. I don't even think he realizes something's bothering him." Lupin nodded.

"He's been through a terrible ordeal. And I think he's been keeping all his feeling's bottled up." Ginny nodded thoughtfully.

"He's been sort of like a tea kelting," she said with a small smile. Lupin looked at her in confusion. "Ron used to call it that. You know...a tea kettle. He's been boiling under the surface and all those emotions had to find a way to escape...just like the steam does," she explained. Lupin smiled in amusement at her ramble, but she barely noticed. "Kids have been taunting him about this almost non-stop," she said quietly. "I think Pinth was just the last straw."

Her fists clenched again as she thought of the smug Slytherin and she wished she'd been there to send a few hexes in his direction. Remus was nodding solemnly, his own jaw tensed in uncharacteristic anger. And Ginny wondered if he was imagining the sorts of hexes he would have liked to direct toward Pinth.

--

Severus pulled open his bedroom door. He halted. Harry was sitting on his bed, staring straight ahead, Lily's photo album clutched to his chest; he'd obviously been watching Severus' door.

As soon as Harry saw Severus, he shot to his feet. Severus' heart squeezed painfully in his chest. Harry was shaking slightly, his eyes red-rimmed. And he was breathing in sharp, jagged breaths.

He looked terrified and again Severus felt the pain of the years he'd spent fearing his own father. Severus tempered his flames and walked with slow steps into his son's room; Harry didn't flinch away and Severus was grateful. Severus stopped a few feet from his son and offered quietly, "I'm sorry."

Harry stared at him for a long minute and then he nodded, looking resigned.

"I understand, sir," he said, his voice shaky. Severus studied him silently, not certain what Harry had meant by that and he was frankly startled when his son asked, "Can I-can I take this..." He trailed off, looking unsure and utterly miserable. Severus shook his head in confusion.

"Take it?" he repeated, assuming Harry meant the photo album. "Where?"

Harry looked away. "Back to the Tower, sir," he explained quietly, and Severus felt a jolt of pain at the words. Harry had been frightened enough, then...enough that he wanted to leave. Severus didn't want to hurt his son any more, but he could not allow him to leave; not when he was not ready.

Severus stilled his emotions before he answered, "The album is yours, but you will need to remain here for now. I cannot allow you to leave when you are not fully ready," he said gruffly, unable to hide his emotions completely. Harry head snapped back up; his emerald eyes were wide.

"You're not going to make me leave?" he blurted. Severus stared at him.

"What?" he asked, bewildered. Harry bit his lip as he looked away again and Severus could see the tears filling his son's green eyes.

"Because of what I said..." he whispered. Severus' chest constricted again at the anguish in his son's voice.

"Harry..." he floundered as he studied his son's dejected form and he frowned slightly, realizing Harry wasn't frightened after all, "...of course I would not make you leave," he assured him. Harry's fingers tensed against the leather in his hands.

The sound of the Floo had Severus making a sound of annoyance low in his throat. "Albus," he muttered before spinning from Harry, stalking with narrowed eyes, back into the sitting room. He was encouraged by Harry's quick footsteps behind him.

Albus was already waiting in the middle of the comfortable room. "Good evening, gentlemen," he greeted. Severus frowned in response.

"Do you need something, Albus?"

The Headmaster nodded, frowning slightly as well. "Filius came to see me," he began. "It seems Hermione has been quite insistent that he help her find as much information as possible about the Impentribiilus Charm," he explained, with a look of disapproval at Harry. Severus turned slightly to look at his son.

"Did you speak with Ms. Granger about the Charm?" he inquired, no accusation in the words, only curiosity. Harry shook his head, rather frantically it seemed.

"No, sir!" he all but exclaimed. Severus turned back to Albus, disturbed by his son's discomfort. Albus was watching Harry carefully. He turned back to Severus, his eyes lit in appraisal.

"I've asked Filius not to give her any more assistance, though of course I didn't enlighten him as to why," he finally said. Severus inclined his head.

"Of course."

Albus nodded, his eyes still considering. Severus narrowed his eyes in sudden suspicion.

"Was that the only reason for your visit?" he asked dryly and Albus smiled slightly in immediate understanding.

"I did wish to inquire after Harry," he replied.

"Indeed?" Severus crossed his arms over his chest. "And are you satisfied with how you find him?" he asked sarcastically. Albus raised an eyebrow.

"I am," he conceded. A pause and then he said, "I will have to speak to Hermione should she persist in her questions."

"Yes, do," Severus answered with a bit of sneer. Albus favored him with a cool look before turning to Harry.

"I was glad to hear you weren't seriously injured after your fight with Pinth," he said sincerely. Harry bit his lip.

"Thank you, sir," he offered in a low voice, darting a nervous glance at Severus. Again Albus glanced between the two, before nodding once.

"Good night then. Severus, I will wish to speak with you tomorrow afternoon." Severus nodded. Albus smiled and turned away to the Floo. As soon as the flames had faded away again, Severus turned to face Harry. Harry's fingers were tangled together again, in nervous agitation.

Before Severus could speak, Harry uttered an almost silent, "I'm sorry."

Severus shook his head, resigned now that he understood Harry was feeling guilt over what he'd said earlier. He would have preferred anger, though he was infinitely grateful that it wasn't fear his son was feeling. "There is no need to apologize for expressing your feelings," he told his son, hoping Harry would understand that Severus accepted the way he felt.

--

Harry stared at his father, his stomach churning with unease. He had to make him understand.

"I don't feel that way," he said quietly, twisting the sleeves of his robes in his fingers. "I already forgave you," Harry told him. Swallowing loudly, he admitted miserably, "but it still hurts. I'm sorry." He wished he didn't have to say it aloud but he didn't know how else to convince his father he hadn't meant the terrible words. Severus quirked his upper lip in a sad imitation of a smile.

"Harry, it would be astonishing if you were not still hurt because I left you and your mother," he murmured and Harry had to bite back the sorrow he felt as he looked into his father's eyes.

"But I shouldn't have said it," he whispered, fighting hard to hold back the tears. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he offered. Severus waved away his apology.

He gestured for Harry to sit on the sofa and when he did, his father sat next to him, studying him for a moment before saying roughly, "It is immaterial." Harry stared at him, but he didn't have a chance to disagree as his father continued, "I am more concerned that you understand the circumstances surrounding my trip beyond the veil." He gazed at Harry, his black eyes intent.

"I want you to understand that I came back solely for you, not because of the incorrect assumption that your mother did not wish me to stay."

Harry shifted uncomfortably as he stared at his hands. "I know that," he whispered. There was a short silence.

"Your words would indicate otherwise."

Harry looked up quickly. He shook his head, not wanting to see that hurt in his father's eyes anymore. "No, I do. I didn't mean it," he insisted. "I don't even know why I said that about mum," he said wretchedly, turning away again.

"You were angry," his father offered, his voice still too soft. Harry frowned.

"But I saw how much she loved you...in the Pensieve and in your memories," he tried to explain. "I know she wouldn't feel that way. I'm sorry," he said again. "I'm sorry I said that." His father's hand was on his knee and Harry felt a great wave of relief coursing through him. But still, he had to ask, "How can you not still be furious with me?" He stared at his father's rough hand while he waited for an answer. His muscles pinched when Severus sighed.

"I was not angry with you, Harry," he told him. Harry chanced a look up at those black eyes; they were turbulent with remorse. "You reminded me of things I do not care to relive," he explained and Harry had to look away again, as the guilt swelled his chest.

"I'm sorry," he whispered again, disgusted with himself for being so cruel. The hand on his knee squeezed quickly before pulling away. The anxiety waved over Harry again as the small comfort was taken away.

"Please do stop apologizing, Harry. There is no need for it," Severus said. "It was no more than I deserve."

Harry looked up sharply.

"You didn't deserve that," he said fiercely. He shook his head when Severus opened his mouth. "I wasn't trying to hurt you," he insisted, his voice sounding almost desperate, but he couldn't stand the idea that his father would think he had been deliberately cruel. "I just lost my temper," he attempted to explain, wanting to turn away again, as the shame was threatening to bury him. How many times was he going to use that pathetic excuse?

"I know you were not purposely trying to be hurtful, Harry," his father said and then he shook his head, his eyes filled with grief. "But it does not change the truthfulness of your words." Harry wanted to protest but his father held up his hand.

"Not about your mother, no," Severus acknowledged. "What passed between your mother and I is between us, but I believe she would want you to understand that she forgave me. There was no acrimony between us." Harry gazed at his father for a few seconds.

"I know that," he repeated firmly. His father inclined his head briefly, before pursing his lips.

"The rest however was complete and absolute truth," he clarified in a hard tone and Harry began to feel nervous again, just as he had begun to feel like perhaps his father wouldn't hate him. "Because I didn't learn to control my temper," Severus continued, "I left that night as soon as Lily told me you weren't my son. I lost control and fled," he said, his voice not quite stiff, though it was solemn.

"If I had remained in control of my emotions, your mother and James might not have died and you certainly would not have been without a father for fifteen years, and that in itself should be enough of a reason for you to learn to control your temper." His father was watching him, his eyes still tumultuous and Harry could feel the emotions brimming up through his throat, begging to be freed into tears.

Severus leaned forward, keeping his eyes intently focused on Harry. "That is what is important. That is what I should have explained to you earlier. I do not give a damn about you hitting Pinth."

Harry stared at his father, dumbfounded. "But you said-" he protested. Severus shook his head.

"Your hitting him is not the issue here." He frowned. "You've been allowed, and frankly, encouraged for years, to run headlong into situations without giving appropriate thought to the consequences." Harry looked away, the feeling of guilt, shame and resentment churning inside him. His father sighed again.

"Do not misunderstand my words." Harry didn't answer. "Harry," Severus coaxed, his voice hardening and Harry slid his eyes back. "Can you deny this is true?"

Harry bit his lip, wanting to say of course it wasn't true, but he couldn't lie to his father. Not anymore. So he shook his head.

"No, sir," he answered resignedly. Severus considered him.

"Every time you did that, you put yourself in danger. And most of those times, everything worked out, but it may not always be so and I will not lose you, Harry," he said, his voice almost hoarse with its roughness. Harry's throat closed.

"And it does not matter how unfair it is that you are not allowed the fits of temper that most adolescents indulge in; you are different, no matter how much we both wish it were not so," his father said wearily. "You will have to face Voldemort and when that time comes, your ability to control yourself will likely mean the difference between success and failure." His father held his gaze. "Even by your side, I cannot force you to keep yourself under control; I will however do all I can to help you learn to master your emotions so that you will be ready."

His father sat back against the sofa. "And this, Harry is why I was so angry."

Harry didn't understand. "What do you mean?" he asked hesitantly, not sure he wanted to understand.

"This is what I wanted to say. I was concerned about you, but that concern came out in anger." He grimaced. "Even now, my own control is lacking," he admitted. Harry could have argued with that. To his thinking, his father had controlled himself remarkably well.

"You're really not angry that I pummeled Pinth?" he asked suddenly, completely bewildered. His father raised an eyebrow.

"I am not pleased by your behavior," his father assured him and Harry's heart plummeted into his stomach. "But I am more concerned about the level of your loss of control than with where that loss led you." Harry was pretty sure he was staring at his father as though the man had lost his mind. His father's lip lifted in his half-smile. "I would be equally concerned had you destroyed a roomful of some old coot's magical knick knacks." Harry flushed. Damn Dumbledore anyway.

"All right," Harry conceded after the heat in his cheeks had subsided a bit, "I do have a problem with my temper." His father nodded, though there was nothing smug about the movement.

"You do."

"So, what's it going to be?" he asked, sounding slightly forlorn against his will. "Cauldrons? Frogs..." Harry's face twisted in disgust. His father didn't smile, only narrowed his eyes a little.

"Do you actually understand that you had another choice? That your reaction to Pinth was not inevitable?" he demanded, his voice earnest as he learned forward again. Harry chewed the inside of his cheek. He wasn't sure how to answer that.

"I wasn't thinking..." he sort of answered. His father shook his head, the movement sharp.

"That is an excuse," he insisted and Harry recoiled from his father's harsh tone. Severus was silent for a long moment before he asked, "How many times did he insult you before you hit him?" His tone was much softer. Harry dropped his eyes, uncomfortable with his father's dark stare. He shook his head.

"Just a few."

"And what were doing while he was baiting you?"

Harry didn't want to answer; he didn't want to go over this again, but he didn't really see that he had any choice. "Trying to walk away," he finally admitted as he looked up, beginning to see that his father might be circling around to some point. His father pursed his lips.

"And something he said made you stop walking, correct?"

Harry nodded reluctantly, hoping his father wouldn't ask what it had been that made him stop, but he knew that was hardly likely. And so he answered before his father could even ask the question, "He said you were a coward." Severus looked briefly surprised.

"Why should that concern you?" he wanted to know. Harry shrugged, sliding his eyes away from his father again." "Harry," his father warned, and Harry sighed.

"They were talking about when you were..." he swallowed thickly as he tried not to think of his still-present nightmares, "...what happened on Halloween." He shrugged again. "I don't like to think about it, I guess." His father nodded slowly.

"Do you feel anger when you remember what happened to me?" he asked. Harry tensed as he nodded swiftly. "Are you angry with Voldemort...or with me?" Harry's eyes widened with surprise.

"Voldemort!" he exclaimed, clenching his hands into fists on his knees. His father's hand lightly covered Harry's fisted fingers.

"It would be a perfectly reasonable reaction for you to have some resentment toward me," he told him. Harry shook his head, almost wildly in his haste to assure his father he wasn't angry with him, but Severus applied a firm pressure to his tensed fingers as he added, "It was my choice after all, to attend the meeting and it was I who allowed Voldemort to discover our secret."

Harry jerked his hands away from his father, as he began to tremble slightly.

"I'm not angry with you," he denied hotly. His father raised a thin eyebrow.

"Why are you trying so hard not to be angry with me?" he asked quietly. Harry looked away. He couldn't explain that. How was he supposed to tell his father that he had promised not to disappoint him anymore, when he'd already failed so miserably?

"Harry," his father was saying firmly, "you have been keeping your feelings in for far too long. I allowed you your silence, waiting until you were ready to talk. It was a mistake. You need to talk to me."

But Harry shook his head. "I can't," he whispered.

"Why?" his father asked, his voice soft again.

Harry pinched his lips together, considering which would be worse...to admit to his father that he was a failure or disappoint him again with his refusal to answer? Harry sagged, knowing there was really only once choice. "I promised I wouldn't disappoint you anymore," he finally admitted, his voice barely audible, even to his own ears. His father looked confused.

"I do not remember that."

Harry shook his head. "When I wasn't sure if you were going to--that you were going to be okay...I told you that I would do better, with everything..." He didn't finish, seeing very little point as his father was staring at him and Harry was sure he was about to pronounce that Harry really had failed spectacularly at that, hadn't he now? But his father's eyes seemed to dull with pain, or maybe sadness as he shook his head; he leaned back against the cushions in a way that didn't seem to quite match him.

"So you've been trying for a week now to ensure that you do nothing to upset me?" he asked wearily. Harry flushed.

"Yes, sir." His father frowned and pulled himself up again.

"It was never my intention to give you the impression that you were disappointing me," he told him, the unhappiness in his eyes echoed in his tone. "On the contrary, Harry," he said seriously, "I would not have believed I could be so proud of anyone." Harry bit his lip as he struggled to control the warring emotions inside him.

"How can you say that?" he demanded in a fierce whisper. "I lost control twice today, started a brawl in the corridor and I said things so cruel to you that you shouldn't even be talking to me right now!" His fingers balled into fists again and a few traitor tears slipped past his lashes. Harry swiped at them furiously. Severus sighed.

"You can forgive me, but I do not have the same right?" he queried, sounding even more tired than he had a minute ago. Harry glared at him, not sure why this should annoy him so much.

"But you didn't even have a chance to forgive me!" he objected. "You just came right back out here and tried to make me feel better." Severus shook his head again.

"You are missing the point," he asserted. "The mistakes you make do not change the way I regard you," he said simply. That brought Harry up short.

"They don't?"

His father smiled a tiny bit. "No," he assured him. "I expect you will make many more mistakes in your life," he said lightly and Harry finally allowed a small smile to grace his lips, though he was feeling virtually humorless. His father studied him for a long minute. "Do you understand why you are so anxious that I accept you?"

Harry shrugged, having no idea how to answer that.

When he didn't answer, Severus leaned forward slightly so that he was only centimeters from Harry. "How many times did you attempt to gain some sort of acceptance from the Dursleys?" he asked intently. Harry felt a warm flush creep up his neck.

"I don't know."

His father nodded once. "You already have my acceptance and if you are waiting for me to prove to you that I do not want you, you should know, Harry that you are waiting in vain." Harry didn't say anything, not knowing how to respond, but his father didn't seem to mind. He had much more to say.

"When Pinth called me a coward, what did you do?"

Harry blinked at the abrupt change in topic, but he answered anyway, "I pulled my wand on him." His father nodded, unconcerned with Harry's chagrin.

"And that is the point at which your control began to slip?"

"Yes, sir," Harry admitted quietly. His father gazed at him.

"How long was it until you lost control?" he asked. Harry fidgeted under his father's black gaze, not wanting him to finally make his point.

"A few minutes maybe," he answered. Severus nodded.

"And in those few minutes, what were you thinking about?" Harry furrowed his brow as he thought. What had he been thinking about right then?

"I was wishing he would just shut up," he remembered with a scowl.

"Then perhaps it would have been a good idea to simply put a Silencing Spell on him...or even perform a Petrificus Totalus," he suggested easily. Harry blinked.

"You're saying I should have hexed him?"

Severus sat back again against the blue cushions. "Would you have lost control if Pinth had stopped talking right then?" he inquired, seeming to want an actual answer. Harry shrugged.

"I guess not..." He tilted his head in confusion. "But aren't you supposed to tell me to just walk away?"

His father raised a brow. "Could you have walked away?" he asked seriously. Harry chewed his bottom lip.

"No," he told his father honestly. Severus seemed to shrug.

"Then you take the next best course of action." How was it that a man whom Harry never would have believed could know anything about being reasonable, always managed to be so damned logical?

Trying to lighten the mood a bit, Harry queried, "So I have your permission then, to hex other students?"

But his father's face remained passive. "If it means you will retain control of your emotions," he allowed. Harry sagged a little with the realization that his father was still hurt about what he had said earlier. Well, of course he was still upset, Harry scolded himself. You were awful. He started to apologize again, but his father straightened again.

"It is late," he informed Harry. Harry pursed his lips against the sigh that wanted to escape. He knew it wasn't really that late but his father's eyes were heavily shadowed, the lines of fatigue sharp amidst his features. He was obviously exhausted and most likely, tired of dealing with his irksome son.

"All right," he gave in. After a bit of hesitation, he asked hesitantly, "Will you help me with my mediations though?" Severus' face relaxed a bi,t and his eyes warmed. He patted Harry's knee.

"Of course, Harry," he agreed. "I will come in momentarily." Harry nodded. He stood up. His father stayed on the sofa, though his eyes were still steadily watching him. Harry wanted to say something, wanted to try to explain again, just so he could take away his father's pain, but he didn't know what to say to make it better.

So he just went to his room and got dressed for bed, like his father had asked him to, feeling completely miserable.

He changed fairly quickly and when Severus didn't come in, he headed tentatively back to the sitting room. Harry halted in the doorway. His father was still sitting on the sofa, his head bowed, the pads of his fingertips pressed into his eyes, while his elbows rested on his knees.

Harry felt shame wash over him again. He had done this with his thoughtless words, cut his father so deeply, the man actually looked despondent. With the muscles in his gut quivering madly, Harry stepped back a pace and went back to his room; he was positive his father wouldn't want him to see him like that.

He waited on his bed, his fingers tracing mindlessly along the pattern in the bedcover. It seemed a long time before his father knocked on the wall outside his room. Harry didn't answer and Severus didn't seem to expect him to; he came in, his eyebrows raised in question. "Are you ready?" he asked. Harry nodded as he hurried to get under the covers. Severus sat on the edge of the bed, as he always did when they did this exercise.

"Close your eyes," he instructed and Harry obeyed. "What image is most prominent when you think about Halloween?" Harry's eyes flew open. That wasn't how it was supposed to go. His father nodded his understanding of Harry's confusion, but he didn't take back the question as he waited for a response.

Harry studied the veins in the stone wall as he answered, "I could hear you...calling me," he said stiffly. "It had to be--if it was so bad that you cried out-" Harry gasped in a breath as he struggled to calm down. He felt his father's thumb brushing his fringe aside and Harry turned his head toward the touch, eased by it. He found his father's eyes and they were gentle.

"I wasn't calling out in pain," he explained softly. "I was thinking about you, worrying about you."

Harry furrowed his brow. "You were worried about me? Even then?" he asked in amazement. Severus smiled a little as he shook his head.

"Of course I was, Harry." He studied Harry for a minute before saying casually, "I asked Lupin to take care of you if anything happened to me." Harry's mouth fell open.

"You did?" he asked incredulously. His father nodded, looking slightly amused by Harry's amazement. "But you don't even really like him." His father's eyes shrugged.

"There is no one who would take better care of you."

The quiet willingness to do whatever was best for him, no matter what it cost his father, filled Harry again with shame. Over and over, Severus did nothing but care for him and Harry had repaid him with cruelty. He closed his eyes, feeling ill. "I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely, though he'd lost count of how many times he'd said that tonight and it had probably lost all meaning with his father. Severus sighed.

"Harry, you've apologized more than enough times. And I already told you that it is not necessary."

"Stop saying that!" Harry demanded as he pushed himself to sit up. "Stop being so nice to me! I was horrid to you and you didn't even get angry about it!" He was nearly shouting and his father looked briefly taken aback before his eyes narrowed slightly.

"And you wish I would be angry with you?" he asked, curiosity plaguing his words.

"No!" Harry denied loudly and then let himself fall soundly back against his headboard. The loud thwack had him reaching up to rub the sharp sting out of the back of his head; he grimaced. "Ow," he muttered. His father brought his hand up to Harry's head as well, rubbing at the same spot absently, his eyes far away. After a few moments of silence, Severus brought his gaze back; his hand fell to the bed.

"I think you do wish me to be angry. In fact," his father stressed thoughtfully, "I think you are going to continue to try to push me until you go far enough that you think I will send you away. That is what you were expecting today, was it not?" Harry stared at his father. Severus leaned in, and Harry wished he wasn't trapped against the headboard. "That I would storm out of my room and demand that you leave?" Severus leaned in even more and Harry could smell the cloves, though it wasn't at all comforting this time.

"Harry," Seveurs said firmly, though his voice was very soft, "you are my son. I've told you before that nothing will change that and no matter what you say, or what you do, you will always have a home with me." He let that sink in before pulling back abruptly. Harry continued to stare, and he found himself thoroughly confused when his father smirked at him.

"But as you seem to need some sort of reassurance that I am indeed angry with you...let us discuss the matter of your punishment, shall we?" he asked, his voice lilting with feigned generosity and Harry could feel the stone forming in the pit of his stomach. His father either didn't notice his anxiety or he pretended not to, because he continued on blithely, "Your friends have been assigned cleaning duty with Filch for the remainder of this week and the next," with an air of consideration.

"A week and a half?" Harry stammered. Bloody hell. His father nodded.

"You however, are in no shape for manual labor, not to mention that I will not allow Argus Filch within ten meters of you." Harry swallowed nervously though it was solely for Filch, as his father's voice had lowered dangerously around the caretaker's name.

"The same time frame should suffice though. Outside of classes and meals, you will not be allowed to see your friends. Should you go back to the tower before that time is up, we will re-evaluate," he decided, reciting the punishment as though it was simply a list of ingredients for a new potion.

Ignoring his father's reference to the Tower, as well as the restriction from inviting his friends down, Harry asked, "You're going to let me go back to class then?" He hoped his father hadn't misspoken. His father studied him before nodding.

"You will attend Potions class in the afternoon tomorrow. I will need to make some arrangements tomorrow morning before you can return." Harry nodded quickly, though he really wanted to ask what sort of arrangements his father planned to make but he decided he didn't really want to push.

--

Severus sat on his son's bed far longer than was necessary as Harry was sleeping soundly within minutes. There really was no reason to continue to sit here and yet, he sat. He watched Harry sleeping peacefully, until he felt satisfied that his son was undisturbed by nightmares and then he got up carefully, pulling the blanket up a bit around Harry's shoulders before turning from the room.

Harry had been very quiet after Severus had doled out his punishment, speaking only as much as was necessary as they went through Harry's exercise. Harry seemed to be doing his best to avoid making eye contact. Severus didn't know what to attribute the behavior to and frankly, he'd been too exhausted to do any prodding. He expected though that over the next few days, Harry's discomfort would remain.

Severus sighed as he ignored the call from his bed, going instead toward his lab. He had much to consider before tomorrow. As much as he didn't think Harry was emotionally ready to return to class, being confined to these small quarters would most likely not contribute to his return to sound mental health. Especially now that he felt so much guilt for his earlier words, but Severus didn't know how to make Harry see that he did not blame him for saying it, or for still being hurt by everything that had happened.

Severus almost groaned when he heard the faint ring which announced a visitor: Lupin. Since there was very little point in being annoyed, he went to the door and swung it open. Lupin smiled beyond the threshold.

"Good evening, Severus," he offered.

Severus grunted in response, turning away to allow Lupin to let himself in. He heard the door closing as he continued on to his lab, as well as Lupin's soft footsteps behind him. Not even bothering to ask Lupin why he was here, Severus began removing the Stasis Shields from several of the busy cauldrons. After he'd nodded over all of them in satisfaction, he began halving fish eyes with practiced ease.

"Is Harry asleep already?" Lupin finally asked, and Severus restrained the urge to roll his eyes, but as it would have been much too undignified, he settled for a muted nod. "Sent him to bed early, did you?"

Severus looked up sharply. Lupin's eyes were dancing with amusement and Severus frowned in thought. He quickly cast a Tempus Charm. It wasn't even nine-thirty yet. And then with a guilty start, Severus realized Harry hadn't eaten dinner. How could he have forgotten to feed his son? And Harry hadn't even mentioned it...

"Did Harry ever say anything about those Muggles to you?" he asked Lupin abruptly. Lupin frowned in thought.

"Not much." He grimaced. "When we went to fetch him last summer, he was locked in his room though..." Severus stiffened, his hand stilling over the fish eyes. "...and I think Molly got the impression that they didn't feed him much-"

With a quiet growl, Severus went to his cupboard and snatched a Nutritive Potion from a shelf. With a glare at Lupin, he left the lab. He went quickly to his son's room, pushing the door open quietly. Harry was still sleeping peacefully and Severus wondered if he should simply wake him up and make him eat, but his son obviously needed the extra sleep...the Nutritive Potion would have to do for now.

He spelled it into his son's stomach, vanishing the vial as soon as the liquid was gone. Then he sat gingerly on the bed, watching his son's face with regret. He reached out to smooth his son's fringe away from his eyes, his insides clenching painfully. He was no better than Lily's wretched sister...

The emotion boiled up as he sat there and silently, against his will, his eyes filled with the tears of so much regret. How could he have done this to his son? They could have had so many years...fifteen years destroyed with one mistake.

He did not allow the tears to fall, pulling them back until his eyes were clear again; tears would not undo the damage he had done. Severus stood up, careful not to jostle the bed. After a short hesitation, he bent over as gently as he could and pressed a light kiss to Harry's forehead and then he smoothed his boy's fringe once more before straightening up.

--

Remus watched Severus storming out of the lab, clutching a Nutritive Potion in his fisted hand. He frowned. He had thought Harry was eating again, at least well enough that he didn't need Nutritive Potions anymore...and Severus had said Harry was asleep. He had a strong urge to follow Severus and demand an explanation, but he didn't. He had told Ginny that he trusted Severus and he did.

Remus didn't have to wait long for Severus to return. The Potions Master was scowling deeply as he came back into the lab. Severus went right back to halving Fish Eyes as though he hadn't just bolted out of the lab. Remus watched for a few minutes before saying casually, "I thought Harry was eating again."

"He is," Severus replied curtly. Remus frowned.

"Why did you-"

Severus stopped slicing to glare at him. His black eyes were cold.

"He didn't eat dinner," he snapped. Lupin nodded.

"I'm sure he was just too upset after what happened-"

Severus dropped the knife onto the table with a loud clatter. "He didn't eat because I forgot to feed him!" he said angrily, his voice filled with self-reproach. "I am no better than those damn Muggles!" he growled, swiping the knife up again. He resumed his slicing, his movements jerky with anger. Remus felt his mouth opening in surprise.

He watched Severus for a minute, trying to figure out what had happened between father and son to make Severus so upset...and he was obviously not angry with Harry. "Did you withhold food as a punishment?" he asked carefully, even though he knew the answer. Severus threw the knife down again, his eyes glinting dangerously.

"Are you insinuating that I abused my son?" he demanded furiously. Remus shook his head calmly.

"No, I'm demonstrating the very glaring differences between you and the Dursleys," he said simply. Severus clenched his jaw. He turned back to the Fish Eyes. Remus watched him again for several minutes.

"What happened?" he finally asked. Severus didn't look up from his slicing.

"We argued," he answered gruffly. Remus chuckled.

"Glad to hear it," he remarked seriously. Severus stopped slicing. He narrowed his eyes.

"I beg your pardon?" he inquired. Remus shook his head.

"If Harry is back to arguing with you again, it seems he must be feeling a bit more secure." Severus stared at him. He opened his mouth once before snapping it closed again. He pursed his lips before going back to his slicing.

"Severus," Remus said quietly, "whatever Harry said to you, it was likely said only in anger...and he's had a lot of anger to get out." Severus didn't answer, though he did pause briefly in his rhythm. Remus smiled, knowing he was close to the crux of whatever had happened in the past few hours. "What did he say?" he asked, deciding not to skirt the issue. Severus glared at him again, having finished with the knife.

"He reminded me of the night I left," he snapped and then turned away stiffly as though he hadn't meant to reveal as much. Remus, stunned himself, didn't respond.

"I'm sorry, Severus," was the only thing he could think to say after several silent minutes had passed. When Severus ignored him, he asked, "Did you talk afterward?"

Severus busied himself in his ingredients cupboard.

"Yes," came the slightly muffled reply. Remus' lips twitched.

"And?" he prodded. Severus rearranged a couple of vials before turning around. His face was passive.

"We finished our conversation."

Remus shook his head, half in amusement, half in exasperation at the other man's stunted emotional growth. "I assume Harry was pretty upset with himself," he surmised. Severus nodded as he began stirring one of his potions with meticulous motions.

"He was." His voice was full of regret. Remus frowned in thought.

"It's all right for Harry to feel remorse for hurting you, Severus," he said gently. Severus glanced up quickly, his eyes hard.

"I do not need you to tell me what emotions Harry should feel," he informed him icily.

"Of course not," Remus returned lightly. Severus narrowed his eyes.

"Do not patronize me," he snarled.

"Would you feel better if you could punch someone as well?" Remus asked curiously. Severus stared at him, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Yes," he confirmed after a minute and Remus laughed in spite of himself.

"Perhaps Argus would agree to be your target," he suggested around his chuckle, in an attempt to lighten Severus' mood. Severus raised his eyebrow.

"I do not believe I would ask his permission," he said smoothly as he returned to his careful stirring.

"That would probably be best," Remus agreed.

Severus' mouth quirked the tiniest bit. Remus smiled, settling himself comfortably on one of the Potions Master's stools. Severus didn't comment as he continued to tend to his potion.