Hello! Hope you all had a happy thanksgiving, and a good day for anyone who doesn't celebrate that specific holiday. Here is the next chapter! It is much longer than my normal chapters (4000 words!). I just really didn't want to split it up.

I am REALLY bad at writing intense emotions. Since I tend to get a positive reading on my psychopathy tests I tend to be good at mimicking emotions but bad at feeling/understanding. That is why I have tried to rush through this angsty stuff. I am also not a licensed psychologist. So it's bad. Enjoy!

Thanks to anyone who reviews. It's the only reason that I can validate spending quite so much time on the computer to family and friends.

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It was only a couple of days since the ball and Harry was quite happy that many of the students had left to go spend the last week of their break at home. Harry was admittedly jealous of those who did have homes to go to, but he would rather spend the week in the shrieking shack without a blanket than have to spend another Christmas with the Dursley's. Have to watch them eat the dinner he made and see Dudley throw tantrum after tantrum because his hundred gifts weren't absolutely perfect.

Unfortunately the solitude didn't only bring peace, but worry as well. He had gotten a missive from Snape that demanded, though technically requested, his presence in the dungeons that morning. Harry wasn't hopeful that the meeting would be for ingredients collection. The tight knot in his stomach told him that he was probably going to be confronted about the injuries that Snape saw.

His hands had been shaking for over an hour now. He didn't know why they were. He didn't shiver like this when he was staring down Voldemort from the back of someone's head. His hands were as steady as a rock standing in front of a dragon. Why was it that a meeting with Snape suddenly had him acting like he was trapped in ice? Idly he wondered if he would be able to knock on the door in this state.

It ended up not mattering as the door swung open to the ever familiar office.

"Good morning Harry!" Alex called out in an excited voice. Harry didn't answer him as he was a little too shocked to speak. Mr. Dawsen was sitting of Professor Snape's lap, mid-way through poking him on the nose. He had frozen, pointer finger pressing firmly on the tip so that it was a little bent. Snape, on the other hand, had his wand pressed under Alex's chin in an incredibly threatening manner. From the thunderous expression on his face it was clear that this was not the first nose boop to happen that morning but he fully intended it to be the last.

"Um . . . Good morning. I have a meeting with professor Snape?" Harry managed to force out the words. The scene before him was domestic in an entirely nondomestic way. It was the kind of thing that a person would never expect from someone like professor Snape, but at the same time seemed to fit him completely right.

"Ah. That must be the reason that he is so grumpy this morning."

"The reason I am grumpy may be due to the fact that you decided to transfigure my blanket into a live fish when attempting to wake me up." Snape sneered. There was a silent truce called as Mr. Dawsen released the pressure on his nose and the ebony wand was lowered to the desk. Harry couldn't help but notice that it was still gripped tightly and held in a position that still meant the potions master was on guard for another attack.

"Yes, well . . . When you finally understand how difficult it is for me to get you out of bed then you will understand why I continue to transfigure the bedding into various live animals. Or would you prefer that I return to my old method?" Alex purred, slipping of the professor's lap to sit in one of the arm chairs that was sitting next to the fire. Instead of answering Snape glowered, shuffling the papers on his desk. Harry took the other armchair that Alex had motioned him to. He desperately wanted to know what the other way is but also dreaded hearing what it may be.

"Don't worry about that sour puss. He had to get up early to work on a potion. Normally it is not this bad but he had spent the last two days of what is supposed to be a holiday," He said pointedly to the man who was ignoring him. "Staying up all night working on various potions for the hospital wing. A sleep deprived Severus is even more difficult to deal with than his normal dour self." He said with a little laugh. He took a moment to search through his pockets. He pulled out a golden pocket watch, flipping it open.

"Severus dear," His tone a little mocking at the pet name. "You have less than five minutes until the next step in your potion. Might want to go check it." Snape stood with a grumble and swept out of the room. He did take a moment to pause at the door, his eyes filled with suspicion. Alex just quirked an eyebrow and shooed him out the door.

"Well he should be gone for at least fifteen minutes." Alex sighed, sinking back in his chair. He crossed his fingers together before resting them on his chest as he slumped.

"Why did you want him gone?" Harry asked, leaning back in his chair.

"So that we could talk without him here." Alex smiled lightly. "He knows that I do this. Before he has one of these meetings I always try to help a little when I can."

"He told you?" Harry started, feeling a little betrayed.

"Nope." Alex popped the 'p' in a dismissive way. "Figured it out for myself. He always acts this way when he finds out that one of his snakes is getting hurt. He brews the same regiment of potions, though it does vary slightly depending on each person. He starts making lists and pulling out the business cards of his contacts at hospitals. For the three days before the first time he doesn't sleep. I knew that something like this would be happening today. I was a bit surprised it was you."

"Oh." Harry wasn't sure what to say to that. He was happy that Snape had kept his word about telling anyone.

"Don't worry. I am not here to talk about what you will be talking about with my husband. Instead I want to talk about my husband himself." He snapped his fingers and a tea tray appeared on the little table between them. "You see, I know that you are nervous. Everyone is before something like this, no matter how prepared or how willing to talk. I feel that it is best that you have some comfort in knowing a bit about Severus before you start revealing your darkest secrets to him."

"What do you mean, know about him?"

"Well first off, Severus is a nearly impossible man to deal with. He tend to be a bit acerbic at the best of times. To those he truly doesn't like he can be immeasurably cruel. He despises those with little intelligence and petty beliefs. He is far too good at finding the weak points of a person and could cut anyone down with barely a seconds notice. . . Despite all that he has the purest heart of anyone that I know.

"You see, Harry, Severus has had a difficult life by even the harshest standards. He grew up in a house hold bereft of love and affection. A drunkard for a father with a hatred of magic. A meek mother who loved her husband far too much to care about the damage he did to her and her son. His only friend to speak of in childhood was your mother. They didn't meet until he was eight, so he spent so many years alone and hated.

"He showed up at school and finally there was a chance. A chance to make friends, to shine academically. Then he was sorted into Slytherin and automatically disliked by 75 percent of his peers. As a half-blood he was hated by a good portion of his own house. He was a genius at potions and gifted in nearly every other subject. Suddenly the few who did not hate him for his blood or his house hated him for his gifts. Still, he soldiered on. Up until his one friend left him.

"He made some bad decisions Harry." Alex said, his face serious but distant. Harry was enthralled. "In a desperate attempt to find some connection with anyone. To get a single person to acknowledge his skills and worth he fell into a bad crowd. At the beginning of the war he ended up on the wrong side."

Harry tried to wrap his head around that. The wrong side meant Voldemort. Had Snape really been supportive of him? The thought made him shudder.

"It didn't take him long to figure out that he didn't want what that man was offering. Acceptance at the cost of others was not something Sev could stomach. Despite all of that his good heart shown through and instead of running away he became a spy. One of the best spies that the light side had. Every day for years he put his life, body, and mind on the line for those who had shunned him and hated him. Even at the end when his actions were presented to the world people still jeered." Alex took a breath, sipping from his tea.

"He is a bitter man, Harry. Understandably so, but despite knowing everything you will hold against him sometimes. Even I do." His tone was sad as he explained this. "Still despite all the bitterness and anger he is wonderful. Do you ever wonder why he took this job? He obviously hates it. He can't stand people who don't try and who can't think and yet he stays at this school teaching dunderheads for years."

"I don't know." Harry said quietly, truly thinking about it for the first time.

"Because he remembers his time here. He knows, better than anyone, how much no one caring and no one seeing can effect a person. He knows of abuse, especially in the Slytherin house where there is already so little support. As long as he can help those children who need him he will continue to do the job that he hates until it kills him."

Harry felt an overwhelming ache for the man who he had disliked so much. Despite being alone for most of his childhood, coming to Hogwarts had been a safe haven for Harry. He had developed friends and knew that he had professors he could go to. His few abilities were praised, despite the only thing he is naturally good at is flying. It is impossible to imagine how alone Snape had been, even while he was here. He had nearly the whole world against him, not support or love. Harry had the slight comfort of knowing that his parents would have loved him if they were alive but Snape didn't even have that. Suddenly the insults and few underserved detentions did not seem sufficient payment for the man. A life as a spy and doing a job he hates so he can save the few children that this world had forgotten. The universe owed him a whole lot more.

"I am telling you this so that you can understand him, Harry. He truly knows what you have gone through. He truly cares."

"Thank you." And he meant it. There was a few moments of silence before Snape swept into the room. He was carrying a vial with a clear potion in it. Alex clapped his hands and stood.

"Well that is my cue to leave." He walked over to Snape, pecked him on the cheek before turning towards the door. "See you later."

Snape sat in the seat that Mr. Dawsen had just vacated. He poured himself a cup of tea before doctoring it the way that he always did, two spoons of sugar and no milk.

"I suppose that you gleaned some type of useful information from your talk." Snape said, watching Harry squirm.

"Yes. . . Do you know what he says?"

"To a degree. I never know specifically. With each person it is different based on what he thinks they need to hear. Most people don't know the extent of our relationship and that occasionally colors what he says."

"Oh." Harry sat up in his seat, preparing for what was coming next. Instead of saying anything Snape presented him with the clear potion.

"What is that?" He asked, rolling the little bottle in his hands.

"Special potion for situations like this." Snape leaned back in his seat. "Mostly it is a calming potion. What we will be talking about tends to make the calmest person irrational. It is also a mild truth potion. Unlike veritaserum, it won't force you to tell you the truth. It prevents you from trying to deceive me. It will help encourage the talks until you are comfortable enough to speak to me without it or we determine that you need to speak to someone else."

Harry popped the cork off and tipped it back. The potion tasted of mint and felt like he was swallowing smoke. His body warmed like he was in a bath. A quick glance at his hands saw that they had finally stopped shaking. He took a moment to see if he had any compulsion to spill the truth and he didn't.

"Shall we begin Mr. Potter?" Snape pulled open a leather bound journal. He held a ball point pen lightly as he watched Harry with heavy black eyes.

"I suppose." There was no real point in putting off the inevitable.

"Before we begin talking about what needs to be done to fix it would be best if we began with an in depth look at what your home life was like. Begin where you think is best."

"Ok . . . well I was left on my Aunt and Uncles doorstep when I was one. I think they hated me immediately. Looking back there wasn't ever any time I can remember being liked by them. I was given a room in the cupboard under the stairs." Harry watched Snape quirk an eyebrow in surprise, but he didn't say anything so Harry kept going. "They loved their son Dudley and hated me. I didn't understand it really. I tried so hard to have them love me. You would, wouldn't you? I always listened to everything they had me do. I did chores until my hands bled. Cooked dinner, didn't make a sound. Still they would spoil Dudley and whack me for doing nothing."

"At one point I thought that if I acted like him they would love me. Maybe that's what I was doing wrong. I acted like him for fifteen minutes. I got such a hiding that I slept on my stomach for three weeks and couldn't do my chores. It was after that when I realized the truth. There really was something different about me. Just a freak who didn't deserve love, parents or even food."

"Do you believe that now?" Snape interrupted. He was twirling the pen and had yet to write anything down.

"No. I stopped thinking that when I was eight." Harry shrugged. "I had been around enough to realize that they were the ones that were wrong. There was no denying that I was different. But I knew I deserved to be treated like a human, not a mop. However by then I also knew that it was too late. My aunt and uncle had spent the last years setting me up. To everyone around I was the clumsy, difficult delinquent child that the poor Dursley's had to deal with. It was believed by everyone. The neighbors, my teachers, even a few coppers knew I was a problem. If I went to anyone about my situation I would have been turned away. So I never bothered."

"Tell me about your aunt, uncle and cousin."

"My uncle is the worst of them all. He has a god awful temper and fears magic above all else. Magic was forbidden in our house, even for his own son. He is the one who strikes me the most. He will hit me if I don't complete my chores or I don't cook enough food. If I back talk him he likes to whip me with his belt. He likes to strike me. He does it when he is mad about anything. I'm his punching bag." Harry glowered into his tea cup. "I think it make himself feel good. He's not smart, or good looking and he doesn't make too much money. I'm an easy target that no one is going to check on. So he gets someone who he can get drunk and hit without worrying about them fighting back because they are a child."

"I'd love to say that it wasn't too bad but you saw the evidence yourself." Snape made a note on his journal as Harry lumbered on through his explanation.

"Dudley is a bully being raised by a bully. He doesn't know anything different. He beats me up when he can but I can run faster and climb trees so it normally isn't so bad. He's not quite smart enough to figure out the insults that can actually hurt. Most of the time he prefers to pick on kids that are younger and small. I'm not really fun anymore." Harry smiled with no humor. "The worst thing he ever did was make it so that I couldn't have any friends. He would tell anyone within hearing distance that I was horrible. If someone decided to ignore him and try to be my friend anyway he would threaten them or beat them up. Because of him I didn't have any friends until I came here."

"And your aunt?" Snape mate another note and underlined it with a sharp movement.

"My aunt was, is, the most confusing," He scratched the back of his head as he tried to think of a good way to explain it. "She didn't hit me like Uncle Vernon. Sure she swung at me with her pan a lot but I think it only connected one time. She is the one who watched me do all the chores and would work me like a horse. Sometimes though she would be nice. She would give me medicine when beatings got really bad. When I was being punished with losing food for days she would always feed me after Vernon had gone to bed. I never understood why she would switch like that."

"That is quite a childhood." Snape commented in a non-committal way.

"It does sound bad when it is all explained out. " Harry agreed.

"And I am sure it will sound worse when you finally tell me about your more serious injuries instead of just telling me enough to get me off your back." Snape hummed. Harry started at the comment. It seemed the potions master had managed to recognize what Harry wasn't even consciously doing. Everything he had said was true, the potion prevented anything else. But he hadn't been quite willing to go into detail of the situations that caused his worst injuries. He had just assumed that everything he had said would be enough. With an internal chuckle Harry remembered that Snape wasn't someone you assume anything.

"Let me ask you a question," Snape snapped his book shut and put it on a side table. "Where is your anger?"

"What do you mean?"

"You have spent the last few months in a rage. Throwing a temper tantrum about every injustice that you experience in the wizarding world," He held up a hand to stop the indignant noise from the Gryffindor. "You have every right to be angry but that is not my point. You are angry about everything here. Why does it seem that you have no anger at your home situation?"

"The potion you gave me stops me, doesn't it?"

"No. The potion stops panic attacks and other things of the sort. It does not prevent anger."

"Oh." Harry paused to think. Snape sat like a statue, patiently waiting for Harry to find an answer.

"I think it is because I am here and not there. It's like being in an entirely different world. I just forget everything that they have done when I pass through the platform at the train station. They don't affect me here so I can't be angry with them here."

"If you think what they have done hasn't effected then you, then you are far more stupid than I originally thought." Snape sneered.

"What?"

"Your abuse does manifest itself here." Snape took a sip of tea to punctuate his statement. "Most are too subtle to get into here but there are two main things to mention. One is your incessant need to protect every person who is an outcast. The other is your distrust of any adults."

"I trust adults!" Harry protested.

"Which adult do you trust the most here?" Harry paused to think, knowing that it wasn't worth it to try and give a simple answer to the master snake.

"Hagrid."

"Yes. You trust the one teacher who acts least like an adult than any other. You trust him because he still acts like a child. When you met him had no responsibility. He had no real control over your actions and would be held accountable for any actions he did make against you since he was a simple working hand. It is easy to trust someone like that. On the other hand when you have a serious problem you abstain from telling a competent adult and end up in the hands of mad men!"

"I told McGonagall when I thought someone was going to steal the stone!" Harry defended valiantly.

"Yes and at a single rejection you decided that you needed to take it in your own hands. You could have been more insistent. You could have gone to any other teacher. You could have trusted that we knew what we were talking about when you were told that no one would have been able to steal it.

"If you trusted adults you would not have gone to the one you knew was most incompetent when trying to rescue the youngest Weasley in the chamber. Perhaps you might have told the teachers that you knew what the creature was and the Care of Magical Creatures professor could have saved your friend without endangering children. If you trusted adults you would have let them know about sighting Pettigrew on that map of yours, yes I know about it. You wouldn't have attacked me when you were being held at wand point by a man who, for all you knew, murdered a dozen people!" Snape growled out, pointing an accusing finger at the fourteen year old.

"Your disregard for your own life and your mistrust in any person who could be seen as a guardian or protector will be your undoing. It is undoubtedly a trait pounded into you by your relatives."

"So what do I do?" Harry asked, unhappily falling before Snape's excellent points. He was beginning to get twitchy again. It seemed the calming potion was starting to wear off.

"For now? Begin thinking about the things you do that are detrimental to your health and social life. Begin to think about how they developed in relation to your childhood. After you figure out the things that need to be changed we can work on techniques to develop the good habits to turn you into a proper functioning adult eventually. Just remember. For someone in your situation you are quiet normal. In fact, you are far better adjusted than most children would be. Take solace in the fact that these traits are not permanent, nor do they make you any less for having them."

"Okay." Harry slumped down. It was silly but he was kind of hoping there may be potions and spells that could help him. Instead it would obviously be long months of talking, probably years considering how messed up he probably was.

"With that, you will stop thinking about it for today. Take this potion," Snape summoned a vial of a mild sleeping potion. "And take a nap. I don't care how old you are and whether you think you need it. You need it. Tomorrow, when you are calm I want you to fill out this."

Harry looked at the pamphlet of paper. On it there was a series of numbered statements. Next to each statement there was the words 'normal' and 'not normal'. He skimmed the page growing confused as he read the statements. It read things such as 'taking food from each meal and storing it' or 'nightmares three to four times a week'.

"Go now Mr. Potter. Well done today." Snape dismissed him. Harry stood, gripping the vial in his shaking hands.

"Thank you." And he really meant it.

O~~~~~~~~~~~~O

To THERIO: Good point. It's not that Harry doesn't hear, he just doesn't care. Moody in the cannon was trying to plant the idea in his head. I think he would keep trying. But Harry in this story is not thinking about it at all. It would be like someone telling a person who is allergic to nuts a recipe for peanut butter. They hear it but they certainly aren't going to remember it, it's not part of their world and never will be. Thanks for the great review!