Chapter 10: With all the worries that occupy the back of my mind

Professor Snape woke with a start. Confusion filled his groggy mind as heavy-lidded eyes took in his surroundings.

He looked to the muggle clock that was hanging on his wall. He decided it was necessary to own one what with living in the dungeons and not being able to tell what time of day it was. The clock read "7:14".

Snape yawned. It seemed he did end up getting a little sleep after all, even if it was only a couple of hour's worth. The last time he had peered at that clock it had read "5:02".

He then looked at the young teenager that was curled against his side. The boy was still sleeping peacefully.

"Amazing," Severus thought to himself.

Harry hadn't had another nightmare since Dumbledore left, which was about a full eight hours ago. As Snape wondered how that could possibly be, he ignored the implications of the small voice in his head. The one that was trying to tell him it was his very presence that calmed the boy so much.

Snape's brow furrowed as he looked back to the boy. He needed to get up, but didn't want to wake Harry just yet. A small smile then curved on his lips as he took in Harry's appearance. The Boy-Who-Lived, the Great Harry Potter and supposed savior of the wizarding world had dried drool stuck to his face underneath his gaping mouth.

"Charming," Snape mused. The wizard used his free arm to perform a cleansing charm on the boy's face.

Snape presumed that the boy felt the presence of magic even while he slept as Harry began rubbing at his face.

The action gave Severus a close up view of the scars on the boy's hand. "I will not tell lies," Snape read to himself. The same anger welled up inside of him that had a few days ago at the sight of the scars. He cursed under his breath at Dolores Umbridge. The type of punishment she had inflicted on Harry Potter had been banned ages ago. Only someone who was truly heartless would ever subject a child to such torture.

Severus thought of all of the inventive threats he'd come up with for misbehaving students over the years. He'd certainly had some good ones. However, he would have turned himself into the Dark Lord himself before ever physically harming one of his students.

The professor's eyes were then drawn to Harry's forehead. He could just make out the lightening shaped mark underneath the wisps of messy hair. He decided that Harry hid the famous scar well under all of that hair. More proof to the contrary of his first impression of the boy. Harry was, indeed, not the showoff his father was. James Potter would have slicked his hair back every day just so that everyone could constantly get a good view. Not Harry, though. Harry did not want any part of the scars he had received. One he couldn't control and the other, Snape contemplated, his foolish Gryffindor bravery must have stopped him from reporting his mistreatment at Umbridge's hands. That same bravery was what had caused the boy to hide his hand and change the subject the other day when he noticed Snape looking at it.

Severus' forearm twitched just then, reminding him of his own dark mark. He and Harry were very similar in that sense. They were both connected to the Dark Lord and could feel his anger. Snape's scar, however, was his own doing. He had joined for the acceptance and the respect one commanded when being a Death Eater. And he couldn't deny the fact that it gave him a small amount of pleasure at the fear it instilled in others. That thought was cut short, however, as a frown lined Severus' face.

He had been a confused and teased teenager then. He just wanted Potter and his taunting friends to leave him alone. He had joined the Death Eaters out of desperation, and look where it had gotten him. If he could go back and undo all that had transpired since that fateful day, he would gladly do it. Nothing but tragedy had occurred since he made that decision. First, he had lost Lily's friendship and then, he had lost her completely. As a result, he was constantly on edge. His life was regularly at risk, pretending to be on the Dark Lord's side. He was always getting closer to that precipice of failure, which, he feared he might soon fall into. His life was dark and filled with sacrifice. Sometimes he plummeted so far into his act he felt as though he would be suffocated by it.

Snape found at that moment, however, he was breathing just fine. As he looked at the Boy-Who-Lived, nestled comfortably in his arms, he felt lighter. Both in the weight he felt lifting off of his shoulders and in contrast to how utterly dark his demeanor tended to be. Snape swallowed uncomfortably at the conclusion his mind was beginning to draw.

It was due to the… unease Professor Snape was beginning to feel that he decided it was time to get up. No rest for the weary, he had decided.

As though he had transfigured into a snake, the professor managed to slither his way out of Harry's hold without waking the boy. Severus couldn't help but chastise himself at the precautions he was continuing to take in order to make Harry Potter more comfortable.

"Only while he is ill," he kept telling himself. He had decided that once Harry had regained his health it would be just as easy to harass the teenager as it had always been.

The professor set about making some tea for himself, before heading to his private potions stores. He located a nourishing potion with ease, and then returned to Harry's side.

"Potter?" Snape questioned quietly.

"Hmmm?" came Harry's sleepy reply.

"I have something for you."

Harry's eyes blinked open. Snape could tell by the glazed look that covered the normally sparkling green of his eyes that the boy was definitely not yet fully conscious.

The teenager frowned in confusion. "What is it?" he asked, pointing at the vial Snape was offering.

"It's medicine." Snape paused and almost chuckled at the child-like face of disgust Harry was giving him at hearing the word 'medicine'. "Drink it, Potter. It will make you feel better."

Harry looked confused again as he met Snape's eyes. "Daddy, why do you keep calling me Potter? My name is Harry."

"Of course it is," Snape replied simply. He had to muster a large amount of self-control not to roll his eyes at the boy. "So it's still Daddy, is it?" he thought with annoyance. "Now I want you to drink all of this for me, okay? It's very important."

Shrugging, Harry took the vial and drank the contents quickly. His expression was one of being pleasantly surprised, and he smiled at Snape.

"It tasted just like pumpkin juice!" the young boy exclaimed excitedly.

The corners of Snape's mouth twitched into a smile. "Liked that, did you?"

Harry nodded excitedly. "Normally your medicine is really gross! Like the vomit flavor of-"

"Every Flavor Bean. Yes, I've been told," Snape cut in.

Harry looked sheepish. "Sorry, but it's true. How did you make this stuff taste so good?"

"Sorry," Snape began playfully, "that's a Potions master secret."

"Awww come on," Harry whined. "Will you teach me how to do it someday? Maybe when I'm older?"

Snape regarded the hopeful young face of the wizard before him. He felt an ache in his chest as he looked into those eyes, an ache that he could not ignore. "Yes," the professor began slowly, "I will teach you how someday."

Harry's face lit up. "Really? You promise?"

Snape smiled his first genuine smile in a long time. "I promise."

"Awesome!" the dream state, child-like Harry Potter exclaimed. The delirious boy then started dancing around the room in excitement.

Severus chuckled at the sight. "If only the older version were that excited about potions," he thought.

Harry slowed down his dancing as a thoughtful expression crossed his features. "Hey wait a minute," the boy began accusingly. "How come your medicine always tasted like vomit if you could've made it taste good?"

Severus smirked at the glare he was receiving from the teenager. "Now where would the fun be in that?"

"That's not funny!"

Snape had no warning before the young boy jumped at him. Losing his balance, he toppled over and attempted to wrestle a mischievous Harry Potter off of himself. Snape thought about how ridiculous of a situation he was in right now. Harry-bloody-Potter was trying to play with him? Oh, Merlin help him if Albus walked in right now. He decided there was only one way to get the boy off without harming him further. He managed to hold the boy up with one hand just long enough to reach into his cloak with the other and grab his wand.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Snape shouted.

A wide-eyed Harry floated upward, allowing Snape to resume standing.

A smug look spread across the professor's face as Harry glared at him.

"That's not fair," the young boy whined.

"It's plenty fair," Snape replied simply.

"Let me down now?" the boy pleaded.

The professor smirked. "Do you promise not to jump on me again?"

Harry nodded in defeat before Severus set him on the ground.

"Now I think it's time for a certain little boy to get some rest." Snape's tone brooked no argument.

"Fine," Harry grumbled as he sprawled out on the couch.

Snape smiled to himself as he covered Harry with a thick blanket.

"Thanks, Daddy," Harry managed to get out around a yawn.

Despite his best efforts to ignore the statement, Severus still felt an uneasiness as he walked over to the tea pot and poured himself a cup. He then returned and sat down in the chair adjacent to the couch. He sipped quietly until he heard the steady breathing of a boy who was fast asleep.

The rest of the day had gone by surprisingly well. It seemed that as long as Professor Snape kept Harry close, the boy's nightmares were held to a minimum. However, he had been testing that theory for about an hour now, as Severus had retired to his library and left Harry in his bedroom. He decided that the boy would get a more restful sleep if he were lying down comfortably in bed. Plus, Severus had to admit to himself, he needed some bloody alone time.

The professor had also been spared the meddling of one Albus Dumbledore. Snape wasn't about to hold his breath though, he knew the headmaster would be showing himself before the day was done.

Severus took another sip of firewhiskey and leaned back in his chair. He continued reading and let his mind become completely absorbed with the material. He was truly beginning to feel at ease when he heard a familiar voice shout his name.

"Professor Snape!" the muffled voice from two rooms away shouted desperately.

"Merlin help me, what is it this time?" Snape quickly rose from his seat and rushed out of the library. As he hurried across the living area, Harry shouted again.

"Professor Snape! No!"

"Well, at least there isn't any more of that 'Daddy' nonsense," the professor thought as he flung open the door to Harry's room.

The scene that lay before Snape was startling. Harry was thrashing under the covers so violently, Snape had no doubt that the boy would knock himself unconscious.

As Snape rushed to Harry, several spells went through his mind. He first thought of performing Incarcerousbut quickly decided against it, as Harry would probably thrash more at the feeling of being bound. Snape even, for the briefest of moments, considered Imperio. He dismissed that idea immediately as an unforgivable curse would be, well… unforgivable.

He reached the boy's side as he decided that non-magical action was required. He grabbed the boy's flailing arms and held them tight. Harry's feet continued to kick wildly, however, and his head flew from side to side.

"No! No, let go! Get away from me!"

"Potter!" Snape yelled over the boy's frantic pleas. "Potter! Calm yourself!"

Tears began seeping out from under Harry's closed eyelids. "No! Leave me alone! He's going to kill Professor Snape!"

The professor's eyebrows narrowed in determination. "Everything is okay! It's me, Professor Snape!"

"He's going to kill him!" Harry shouted back.

The boy made a valiant attempt to escape from Snape's clutches as he sat up and twisted his body away from the older man. The professor was too quick as he wrapped his arms around the boy, effectively pinning Harry's arms at his sides. Snape was breathing heavily as he held the trembling teenager close to himself.

"It's okay, Harry," the professor's baritone resonated. "It's going to be all right. I won't leave you."

Harry seemed to almost melt at these words as his body relaxed in the professor's arms. The teenager rested his head on Snape's shoulder, and Severus couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. He continued holding onto the boy as Harry's breathing evened out, signaling the nightmare had subsided.

Severus would later marvel at how naturally Harry Potter's first name had come out of his mouth. The differences between Harry and his father were so obvious now; Snape couldn't help but wonder how he had managed to blind himself to it for the preceding years.

/"You see what you expect to see, Severus."/

Snape scowled to himself as, once again, the words of Albus Dumbledore proved true.

The moment of peace between the two wizards would not last, however. Harry suddenly let out a roar of pain as he grabbed his forehead. As if on cue, Severus hissed through clenched teeth at the sting that began running up and down his forearm.

"No, not now. Not now!" Severus thought desperately as he held Harry tighter.

Harry began mumbling to himself, his pupils darting back and forth underneath closed eyelids. The young wizard was pushing his palm onto his forehead, his face lined with agony. He was no doubt having another nightmare, spurred by the pain as a result of the Dark Lord himself.

Harry began shouting again, shouting for Professor Snape.

The dark-robed wizard clenched his fist in an attempt to ease the pain that now engulfed his arm.

Severus Snape knew what he needed to do.

To be continued…