Thank you to the beta of this chapter- Born-of-Elven-Blood

Chapter Twenty Four- All he Wants

Severus was not a happy man. He had spent the last three hours interrogating everyone from healers to security to the janitor he'd spotted spelling a mop over the floor at the far end of the corridor during Harry and his visit to the St. Mungo's psychiatric ward. So far, he'd come up empty handed. After years of spying, not to mention teaching hundreds of rule-breaking magical children, he knew when people were lying to him; even without Legilimency, it was clear in their voice, their eyes, their body language.

So he was dismally confident that they were all telling the truth.

For a moment he was almost ready to suspect that Lockhart might be the one behind it, before realizing that was impossible.

He let out a long sigh as he signed himself out, slashing his name across the ledger while trying not to scowl too viciously at the witch behind the reception desk. The combination of her bland smile and sharp-set eyes rubbed him the wrong way. No wonder she'd made Harry so obviously uncomfortable. Thinking of Harry twisted his gut. He had been away too long. He turned to leave, but stopped short to look again at the witch behind the desk.

"You…"

"Sir?"

"You don't have to take a vow, do you?" he sneered, a slow but certain suspicion dawning.

"I… I'm not a Healer, so..." the witch stuttered a little, swallowing as though her mouth had gone dry.

"That would be a no then… and from your mannerisms, I'd guess you are an animagus." He took a step closer, leaning over the desk. "Something small..."

"W-What! I'm not..."

"Don't lie to me!" Severus snapped. The witch glanced furtively to the right before speaking, a noticeable tell. Here at last was his culprit. "How could you? To a child! Do you have any idea what you've done!"

"I...I don't know what you are talking about sir," the witch said, her voice wavering uncertainty before swelling with a confidence that only pissed him off more. "I think you should leave now. If you don't I will have to call security!"

"You don't care at all do you?" Severus narrowed his eyes, his Slytherin instincts kicking in. "To think," he enunciated loudly in his best classroom voice, "that anyone would be so quick to betray the Boy Who Lived!"

The words carried, echoing from the hard tile and bare walls of the ward. From the corner of his eye, he saw healers, patients and visitors pausing in their steps, all turning to glance in the direction of the reception desk. Smirking inwardly, he raised his voice further.

"It's enough to make one wonder where your loyalties truly lie!" he practically yelled. "Who would do something that calculating and cruel to Harry Potter, other than a Death Eater!"

The witch's face paled as gasps and furtive whispers rose around them from all corners. A crowd was beginning to gather, and she shook her head vehemently, staring frantically around for an ally. She was met with nothing but hostile sideways glances and outright glares of suspicion.

Severus was fairly certain she wasn't actually a follower of the Dark Lord, but the accusation alone would be more than enough. The witch knew it too, and she was visibly shaking now, her skin taking on a greenish cast as though she might be sick. It was an enormously satisfying sight. He noticed her hand slip under the desk, no doubt to trigger a silent security alarm, but he was on a roll and finally venting his frustration on a worthy target felt too good to stop now.

"The pain that you inflicted on that poor boy! And for what? What did you get in return? What were you promised in return for betraying the savior of the Wizarding world!"

Severus kept up his melodramatic tirade at the woman even as he was Leg-Locked and dragged out by two square-jawed security wizards, who tossed him unceremoniously into the street without a word or backward glance. But the last thing he saw as the doors closed behind them, sealing him out, was a crowd of scowling witches and wizards converging on the wild-eyed, cowering reception witch.

With a dark smirk, Severus cast a wandless finite incantatem, freeing his legs. He was glad he'd decided not to bring his wand, otherwise he might have lost control and started throwing curses. This punishment was far more appropriate for a rumormonger like her. Let her see how it felt to be under that kind of scrutiny! His only regret was that since she wasn't subject to the Healer's vow, she couldn't be tracked down and tormented further. He still felt she'd gotten off too light.

Because in truth, anyone was allowed to go to the papers with whatever they wanted, and there was nothing more substantial he could do about it. The cat was out of the bag, and there was nothing he could do for the boy other than avenge his shattered dignity.

Severus paused for a moment as he brushed himself off. When did he start to care about Harry so much? This wasn't like him. Up to now he'd acted for the sake of carrying out Lily's dying wish to protect her child. It had never been for the child himself. When had that changed? What was happening to him? The thought that the boy might be changing him in ways he couldn't predict scared him no end.

Back in Severus's chambers, Minerva had just finished marking her papers when she noticed the time.

"Harry, would you like something for lunch?" she asked softly.

Harry stayed silent, debating whether he wanted to talk to her, or to anyone ever again, then closed his eyes and did his best not to give himself away.

"Harry?" Minerva asked, walking over to find that the boy was still asleep.

A small smile rearranged the lines on her stern face. She took the quilt draped over the back of the couch and spread it over him, pausing to smooth his hair a little. She gently took off his glasses, folding them on the coffee table within easy reach.

"...you will be alright Harry," she said softly to the sleeping boy, believing she was the only one that could hear. She carded her fingers affectionately through his unruly hair once more before straightening up. "You will get through this."

Harry couldn't help the slender trail of tears that leaked down his cheeks as she retreated quietly to the kitchen, not only at her words but at her touch. The center of his chest ached hollowly. He couldn't remember a time someone had comforted him that way.

While he'd found friendship and acceptance here at Hogwarts, it would never make up for what he'd missed as a child. His aunt and uncle were cold and condescending, his cousin hateful. They never showed him love. He'd never gotten hugs, bedtime stories, photos on the mantle, the everyday warmth of being wanted or protected. All he'd had was a small cupboard to call his own.

Right now he would do anything to be safe in his cupboard. No matter what was going on outside, his cupboard kept him safe.

All he wanted was to feel safe again.