A/N: THIS chapter is an exercise in introspective musingings. There will not be too much talk in the beginning, more thoughts, feelings and trying to cope. Consider this a gateway chapter to the future SNARRY that is about to unfold. I'm not satisfied with how this story has progressed, it's run away with me… and it's not turning in the direction I wanted it to. I'm not going to stop posting but I may be reworking chapters soon because I can't stand rereading this only to find I left important stuff out….like detail and character development and depth….BLARG! Enjoy chapter five and thank you for all the wonderful reviews.
WARNING: SCENES OF MINOR MOLESTATION BETWEEN A 16 YEAR OLD GIRL AND OLDER MAN, NOTHING SERIOUS OR VULGAR, BUT IT'S NEAR THE BOTTOM IF YOU WISH TO SKIP. JUST A STANDARD TRIGGER WARNING FOR THOSE WHO MAY NEED ONE. MUCH LOVE, APPRENTICE08
Chapter Six
The Roads we Travel
The Choices we Make
It took a moment for Harry to realize what had just happened. Standing there staring at the door that Snape had just disappeared through. The professor had slammed it when the sudden urge to vomit had come, the man rushing away in shock. Apparently, Harry was not who Snape had wanted to kiss. Yet, that moment they had just shared had been tender, so utterly meaningful and gentle. The very idea that his feared potions professor could talk like that, could comfort him and promise such wanted and prolific things…
Harry was not a person to hide from his problems, but the loss of his godfather had devastated him, not wanting to think about more losses, more people being hurt in their attempt to aid him in this near unattainable goal….
There were things worth fighting for, friendship and love was among them….but also freedom from tyranny, hate and suffering. The needless suffering was near too much, so Harry would always fight, always try to stand up for what he felt was right and decent, but doing it alone was daunting and pulling in his friends and companions because he didn't want to stand alone was selfish.
Though Snape had made a very good point, they would have fought without him, if Harry had never been born, if someone else had been the chosen one all these people still would have fought for their freedom, love and their very life.
So this brief moment of tempting fate, pretending it didn't have to be so, was a refreshing pace for Harry, he wanted to bask in it, savour the idea of not having to be this person. But part of him, the part he had been denying recently, wouldn't change his life for the world. He was lucky, all things considered to be who he was with such great friends and comrades in arms. Yet, that brief reprieve Snape had just given him...it tasted like a different kind of freedom, one he would eat every day if he could.
If that moment had been false then Harry had just come to realize that Snape was the world's best actor, if it had been true then that man was in utter denial. Harry wasn't so sure he had the courage to figure out which it was. The signs Snape had given indicated, at the very least, a basic interest to form and share some kind of affection, or even a minor friendship.
Yet, had the man not simply done what Harry had asked of him? It was a bitter pill to swallow as reality came crashing down and he gave a frustrated sigh as he instantly realized what had happened. Harry had asked that man to lie about his future, to tell him he didn't have to surrender to the hands of fate. To promise that Harry wouldn't have to lay down and die for some "just" cause on the battlefield and bare such weights upon his shoulders.
Snape had done nothing but comply with Harry's wishes, complied so completely that Harry had believed the man's soft murmured whispers of protection, of being a shield for him in the dark times ahead. It had been unfair of Harry to ask him to do such a thing, or pretend to be such a thing.
Snape had effectively done what he was trained to do, lie, and make all others believe it. The man WAS a spy after all and it was second nature to him, his first and best line of defense against Voldemort.
All that aside, Harry now had to worry about Snape's retribution, the man had somehow realized it was Harry whom he had kissed while he slept, had figured out that Harry had kissed him back. This was the thought that seemed to make the man sick, whether it was due to realizing he had laid with a student in his bed, or because Snape genuinely was nauseated by the idea of kissing him Harry didn't know.
So now, not only had Harry misread the signs and the situation only minutes ago but his dirty little secrets had been pulled up from the depths of the man's subconscious mind. Surely Snape would want to get back at him, take revenge or make his life miserable for the rest of the summer. He could even sue Harry for sexual assault, not that Snape would consider that route, his reputation as a cold, hard and immovable person would be ruined.
In the three days since Harry had been here he had kissed Snape three times, the first time had been near traumatizing, the second had been due to his drunken stupor and today… well today was just turning into a very bad day.
Harry felt his heart sink as he realized what this meant, what ever ground the two had managed to make together over the last few days was now suddenly destroyed. It had felt good, for a brief moment, to have an adult in his life that was consistent and relatively nice.
Too good, almost like a dream.
Now, just has he had lost Sirius so too would he lose Snape….but if Harry was honest with himself… he probably never really had the man to begin with.
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Severus was halfway through his second bottle of brandy, sitting in a chair in the dark of his room. The day was gone, night had set in and he had not heard a single sound from the boy down the hall. His thoughts at first were crazed, rage filled and out of order. His inner calm shattering like a teacup on the hardwood floors of his mind.
When he had left the boy in his room Severus had emptied his stomach and dismissed Albus with such anger and shame he could hardly hold himself together. The very idea that it was Potter to whom he had touched himself to nearly driving him to flee. Guilt, shame disgust and confusion swelling up inside of him like an over-aired balloon, ready to pop at any moment.
It had driven him to grab a bottle from his liquor cabinet and start to drink it down like water. Slowly, over a period of several hours his pace slowed, his screaming mind faded to the background and a blissful numb settled over his being. His mind replayed the dream over and over, trying to recall through his bleary haze if there had been any signs in his dream that he actually been reacting to true stimuli in the waking world. But everything in the dream had seemed like just that, a dream, one where he could actually feel Lily and smell her, taste her and-
Had he been awake? Had he been partially awake? Was his subconscious aware that he had been holding a real life person, his own brain covering the truth with a facsimile of his beloved. Was his body so attention starved, so hungry for physical contact of any kind that his brain would construct some faux impersonation of Lily just so he would give in and share a brief moment of passion with someone, anyone?
Severus never felt truly lonely, he didn't have the luxury to do so, he never felt attention starved or desperate for physical contact….in fact the idea often nauseated him… the amount of soul searching this would actually require was near impossible… not right now anyway, not with the situation he was in, with the Dark Lord breathing down his throat and waiting in the wings so to speak.
But why, why had he- Severus had never touched himself before to any dream of Lily, even when they had been teenagers, even when she was still alive. To so blatantly soil her memory just didn't make sense… could it be that he had known… deep down… that this arousal had been different, had been meant for someone different, someone else entirely?
A shiver ran down his spin, fingers tingling and tongue running against the backside of his teeth over and over. His brow furrowed down and his eyes clenched shut as he stewed and lamented over this strange perversion that had taken hold of him.
Potter had been here less than a week, had already created a chaotic mess of the situation and left Severus to feel utterly disoriented and angry. He sat in this chair, taking drinks straight from the bottle as he contemplated what to do now.
He had options, plenty of options. He could refuse to take part in this sick and twisted mission, simply walk away and disappear. The result would be unthinkable and surely he would die by someone's hand, be it Dumbledore or Voldemort, he had no choice but to stay. Plus, Severus Snape did not run from anything, he always faced his problems, always found a solution.
So, going through the rest of the options was his only choice. The first choice was to go into the boy's room, drag him out and punish him to such an extreme that this would never happen again, though his foresight told him it would ruin any possibility of completing his mission and gaining the boy's trust. However bad Severus wanted to beat the boy to a pulp he would have to refrain.
Second choice would be to seek the boy out, tell him it was never to happen again, deliver a very light punishment and move on in hopes of trying to continue with his mission.
Third, pretend it never happened, move on and ignore any questions the boy may have.
Fourth would be his least favorable option, it involved playing to Potter's new found weakness, winning the boy over through seduction and affection… playing the game that Potter seemed to have started without even realizing it.
But that would only create more problems as eventually the boy would want to go further than just kissing, he would want to explore and feel… develop more ardent and strong emotions….Severus wasn't sure how long he could act the part given how big of a line he would need to cross just to start such a thing. It shocked him to realize that he also did not trust his body at the current moment, as the great lump of a thing seemed relatively quick to betray him these days.
Suddenly the idea of… having needs… was prominent in his mind and it was all he could do to push it away and refrain from even going there.
The final option, which Severus feared maybe his best bet, would be to allow himself to show affection and kindness, hinting at a possibility for more but never truly crossing the line. It would pull Potter in, make the boy pursue a friendship in full instead of making Severus work harder for it and possibly allow the boy to develop and then get over this ridiculous crush that had apparently formed.
The Dark Lord had been right to tell Severus to use the hole created from Black's death to his advantage, Harry was actively looking for a filler even if he wasn't aware of it. His body and mind reaching out to help ease the pain and fear he felt from the man's absence. It could have been anyone, any teacher or student or random acquaintance, and the boy would have found a way to become emotionally attached. The sneer that etched across Severus's face at the thought of Black having such a destructive effect on the boy, was put down to his own dislike of the man and nothing near as petty as jealousy or envy.
Severus had no doubt the only reason the boy had attached to him in such a way was because of the incident with the first kiss and their subsequent isolation blending together. All he would have to do is verify that Potter hadn't even considered a relationship with a man until after that moment. Then Severus's theory would be verified. Harry was only attracted to him because the situation had presented itself for him to be so. He wanted a mentor and friend, a stable rock to lean on during hard times of turbulence…. That first kiss while Severus had been dreaming had started this into becoming something it wouldn't have otherwise.
His tense shoulders eased when he made this realization and he suddenly knew he could make it through this, for Potter was no closer to falling in love with Severus then he was the boy, it had been a chance encounter and once this was over and their isolation together ended, Potter would shake free of such inclinations and he would go back to being a relatively normal youth.
He downed the last shot from the bottle and stood, the effects of the alcohol working it's magic and helping him to relax and submerge his anger and frustration beneath blankets of indifference.
He opened his door and moved slowly down the hall, his hand on the wall to steady himself. He hadn't even selected a choice from the options he gave himself… his body had simply stood at the realizations he had made and moved to seek out the boy.
He didn't bother to knock and walked right in, his face looking around in muted surprise when he realized the room had been cleaned and set to right. The only remaining problem was the broken window and the multiple holes in the walls.
The boy sat on his bed, face raised in question, a hand holding open the pages of a book. He looked tired, mildly depressed and slightly terrified. Snape sighed and continued to scan the room, "You picked up I see."
Potter seemed even more confused and he nodded in response. Severus pulled out his wand and mended the window, the holes and the bent bars of the owl's cage. He gave an extra flourish to rebuild the chair and then the room was righted fully.
When he had put his wand away he turned to gaze upon the boy and they looked at each other in a strange and tense silence.
"You can fear no punishment from me, but I must stress the severity of the line you have crossed. It will take time to rebuild any trust we may have gained over the last few days."
"Yes, sir." Harry replied softly as he looked down to his lap. Severus felt his feet moving but didn't understand why, as this was not part of his plan, though at this particular moment he didn't even know he had had a plan.
He sat down on the bed, Harry pulling his feet up to make room, "I understand you are suffering from the loss of your godfather, as well as your own personal desire to figure out what you really….want… out of your life. Who you want to be and whom you wish to base your life around. As it were, I am not a role model nor am I… compatible with any ideas that may come into that ridiculous head of yours." the boy looked down at this, a massive blush lighting up his face as his jaw set.
"I am not one to stroke my own ego or read into things that aren't there so I shall not assume this strange obsession you've developed towards my lips is anything more than just a young and confused boy trying to figure out his own proclivities. I myself, have never had time for such things, though I doubt that comes as much of a surprise to you."
Severus felt a small flicker of heat in his chest when the boy gave a soft, albeit hidden, laugh at the admission.
"So, all I can offer is an ear to listen and and open mind. If you wish to discuss anything I am here….if not then you have the right to privacy. You may even lock your door should you so choose. For now, let's put this behind us and try to move forward….agreed?"
"Yes, sir."
The next action he performed would haunt him over the next couple of days as it was out of place in this fragile and tentative relationship they were suddenly starting to form, but foresight was not always so forthcoming when a person is drunk and Severus did it before he could stop himself.
His hand rose up to glide through the boy's hair, coming to rest at the back of Harry's head. Severus pulled gently and Harry leaned, then the older man gave a faint caress of his lips atop of the boy's head before he ruffled that mess of hair very subtly.
As he pulled back the boy simply stared with wide eyes and swallowed thickly and Severus didn't have time to ponder before he stood and headed out, "I've no appetite, but feel free to eat if you wish. Be downstairs for breakfast at eight, and bring that book you're reading with you. Also, we did have an agreement, I need to hear about your dream, so if you wish to prepare youself do so however you see fit. " He left and shut the door behind him, unaware of what longings he had just created.
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Harry felt the man's hand run through his hair, leaned forward when the man pulled and realized Snape was affectionately running his lips briefly over the crown of his head, long slender fingers barely ruffling his hair in mock playfulness . In that moment Harry's heart fluttered, his cheeks blushed and his mouth went dry.
Prior to this moment Harry had no real feelings about the man save for wanting to keep their often brutal arguments at bay. Even after the three kisses he had shared with the man, both hidden and exposed he had managed to remain neutral. He pushed the fact this this was Snape out of his mind, pushed the fact that the man was a teacher out if his mind, pushed it all out of his mind. He had quickly turned the man into someone he had only just met in order to cope with the lines he had indeed crossed.
But something about this simple action of physical and boldly sentimental contact had stirred something inside and Harry felt a shooting jolt he could only label as excitement and desire flare in his chest. Even after the man left Harry stared at the door and tried to figure out why such a basic indication of caring and sentiment would send his heart hammering and his chest tightening.
It didn't make sense, not really, for Sirius had done that very thing before. There was just something different about Snape doing it, something seemingly forbidden and yet completely compelling. Harry wanted to experience these intense feelings again…. But how… as the man had just made it plainly clear he was off the table.
It was as if nothing the boy did could warrant punishment, the man still hadn't punished him for the incident with the alcohol, his meal schedule was rarely followed and Harry was near getting away with everything the man would often go out of his way to terrorize him for.
Why was Snape suddenly so different, and why was Harry responding so quickly to it? In this moment the boy shut his book with a snap and made a promise to himself. No matter what happened, or how he felt or what his own feelings may become, he was absolutely NOT going to pursue this. It was far to complicated and did not make ANY sense.
Often when Harry tried to solve a puzzle it revolved around one of two things, those closest to him or Voldemort… in this case Snape was not that close to him despite how he was acting and Harry very much doubted the man's change of heart had been at the behest of the Dark Lord.
Oh yes Severus, please, while you're at it and spying for me, befriend and gain the trust and love of Harry Potter, because that will further my dastardly plans when he dies of a broken heart, pining over you for being my right hand man…..plus… I'd very much like to see him fall head over heels for you only to snatch you away, it would make my day.
Harry couldn't help the snort that escaped his mouth, if there was no point to solving this puzzle Harry would not waste his time. He would just have to learn to live with whatever strange hormonal shift he was going through, ignore all the signs he was thinking he saw which weren't actually there and move on with his life. He had letters to write, one each to Ron and Hermione and one very aggravated one to Dumbledore, who had yet to respond to his first.
Harry could do this, he simply had to knuckle down and realize that Severus Snape was off the table, why would he want the greasy git from the dungeons anyway, the man was a phase and Harry was sure he would outgrow it.
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When Harry sat up in his bed the sun was just barely casting light in the sky, as so many nights before he was sweaty and breathing heavy, his hands clutching at his sheets and his muscles tense. But this morning was different, Harry knew it and he was sure if anyone could see the color in his cheeks they would know it as well.
He gave a small jerk when he felt his privates twitch and he brought a shaky hand to his forehead, his eyes pressing shut against this new brand of perverse dreams invading his mind.
The normal darkness was there, swirling around him, but instead of grotesque images of murder and homicidal mania he had been greeted with lips on his shoulder, fingers playing across his chest and belly and pressure that dug rather persistently into his backside. Words swimming through the air gently like koy fish in a pond. Whispers of feverish and highly erotic things, things he had never even thought of before. The hands sliding down slowly over his stomach, the smell of brandy and rosemary and… aftershave.
"Shite!" Harry cursed under his breath as he felt his member twitch again and realized that while he had been thinking of the dream his hand had strayed down under his covers.
"Oh, bloody hell, no! No way would I ever-" he whispered as if he was talking to someone who was trying to fool him into playing some sort of dangerous game.
Would you like to play a game with me Mr. Potter?
The boy stood up quickly at that thought, the voice sounding all too similar to the man just down the hall only there was a rather seductive tone to said voice that didn't help Harry's problem depreciate. Moving like a stiff piece of wood towards his clean clothes, he was out the door and into a cold shower in record time.
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Severus opened his eyes to the protest of the pipes groaning, it was the first time Potter had elected to shower in the morning hours upon his often early rise so Severus was not accustomed to the noise it often made.
He wasn't angry, in fact he was rather grateful as his dreams had been hard to escape and not at all what he had wanted to experience. His hangover was drowned out by the tactile memories that laced his semi-awake mind. A pair of youthful groping hands running across his chest and stomach, fingers threading through his hair and pulling him down towards a soft silky mess of red and gold sheets.
His skin erupted in goosebumps and his stomach clenched lightly, he couldn't recall the image of his lover in the dream, but the voice was evidence enough.
Will you teach me a lesson Professor?
Severus suddenly recalled the feel of the boy's hair between his fingers, the smell of that same hair caressing his nose and assaulting his senses with the smell of shampoo and heat. The soft strands flowing over his lips
Severus rubbed at his tired eyes as his mouth drew down in a frown and he cursed at the world. Today, Potter would get punished for his drinking, then he would get punished for causing this disgusting and highly inappropriate mess and then he would get punished for being in this house and for being so much more different than Severus had thought he would be and then he would be punished for being born.
The man rolled over onto his stomach and let out a heavy sigh, of course he could only actually punish the boy for drinking, but all those other reasons did seemed fair to him. He had planned to make the boy clean, but truthfully Potter had done that daily while at his relatives from what Severus could tell so that was not really going to achieve much.
Yet, his mind couldn't seem to think of anything that would be sufficient, it was much easier at Hogwarts to give out detentions, there were notes that could be rewritten one hundred times, or cauldrons that could be scrubbed or random chores to perform with Hagrid. At his home the punishments were few and far between unless he wanted to do something a little less moral.
That's when the idea came to him, a punishment his father used to provide unto Severus weekly. One his knees still had scars from, though in Potter's case it would be far less gruesome and afterwords Severus would heal the boy and of course, to mend the relations, give the boy something to prove there were no hard feelings. If he did it right, it would work perfectly without causing any serious damage to his long term goal.
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At eight O'clock Severus strode into the kitchen, fully dressed, completely in control of his emotions and ready to do what had to be done. Harry was already at the table with a cup of coffee and the book Severus had asked him to bring down.
Pouring a cup of coffee Severus noticed the tension but couldn't figure out if it was from the events of yesterday or because the boy knew that his punishment would be enacted today. He sat at the table and pulled from under his arm a newspaper which he had retrieved o my moments ago from the front steps.
"Have you eaten yet?"
Harry looked up from his book and shook his head, "No sir."
"Very good, this morning we will deal with getting your punishment out of the way, I realize you are used to serving detentions with me while at school and know how I prefer to punish those who have broken the rules. As I realize I did not inform you more fully of what I expect from you while you are here you can only be held partially accountable, still, common sense should have dictated you away from such improper behavior. Do you agree?"
"Yes, sir." Harry said assuredly as he closed his book and set it aside.
"As we are not at school my means of punishing you are limited, sending you off to clean or perform other menial chores seems rather redundant given your history so you will be punished in accordance to what I have available to me." Severus hesitated here a moment, though to the boy it probably appeared more like a long pause to allow his words to sink in.
Finally, he cleared his throat and stood up, moving over to the sink and opening the cupboard underneath, he pulled out a box of dried soap powder and then turned, the box showing pale white against his black clothes.
"When I was very young, far younger than you are now, my father was rather unforgiving and didn't have time for children or their often unintentional tendency to get into mischief. What I am about to have you do I often had to do on a whim, sometimes for no reason at all and for hours on end. It is a rather cruel punishment and should be a part of the history books you young teens read and not something done today. However, as I said before, my means of punishment are limited. All that being said… I will not make you do this for more than an hour… I think as an adult you can handle that, yes?"
Harry nodded but his face had grown slightly pale and he looked unsure at the box Severus held in his hands.
"Roll up your pants past your knees and then retrieve the clock from the mantel." Severus ordered softly, he had to do this right or it would turn into something quite horrible. It was actually the nicest of the punishments Severus could give him from the box that was his father's hate, it might even help strengthen their bond given that Severus had tried to approach it so reasonably.
When Harry returned Severus bid him to set the clock on the edge of the table with the clock facing the center of the kitchen. He then moved to the center of the room and poured a medium sized pile of soap flakes on the floor. He used his foot and with one swipe spread the flakes into a thick line.
"Alright, one hour, and you will tell me if and when it starts to hurt, yes?"
Harry looked really confused now but he nodded anyway and Severus simply sighed as he locked eyes with the boy, "Kneel." Severus said as he pointed to the grainy mess on the floor and Harry's eyes went wide. Still, he slowly crossed and turned to face the table before he knelt onto the grains. A small wince etching its way across his face.
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Harry felt the little granules start to dig into his skin, noticed how they almost felt like they were cutting into his flesh anytime he moved an inch. At first he had thought he was supposed to scrub the floor, or maybe pick up the pieces of grain one at a time or count them… but this… this was a whole different monster and even though Harry might have normally been angry about this, felt it was unfair or cruel… All he could see in his mind was a very young Severus Snape, maybe around five or six, being forced to do this for hours.
His relatives had never done anything like this to him before and part of him wondered if he would rather face the lash of the belt. At least that wasn't on bare skin, his clothes offered some reprieve, but this was skin and grain and as Harry eyed the clock he realized he had only been doing this for five minutes, he had fifty-five to go and the pain was already brutal.
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Severus sat behind his paper, every five minutes or so glancing up to see how the boy was fairing, not well now, after thirty minutes of this Harry's face was red, with a very thin sheen of sweat to his forehead and soft shallow breaths panting from in between his lips. Harry had elected to screw his eyes shut and was trying to focus, so far at Severus could tell, on not crying.
He slowly lowered the paper and watched the boy manage through with curiosity. Not surprisingly the boy had a very high pain tolerance. By now Severus was usually crying and trying to stifle his sobs. Of course, Severus had been only five years old the first time he had had to do this, he had not eaten that day, his mother had been bed ridden from the flu and he had had to pee rather ardently.
Still, Potter was managing well, remaining quiet and stoic, no double his years of neglect and subtle abuses helping him to build a resistance to such things as prolonged pain. Severus had planned to end the punishment after forty-five minutes instead of waiting the hour, so he set his paper aside and cleared his throat, "Alright, Potter?"
The boy seemed to come back from some place as green eyes emerged from under scrunched lids and he took a breath, "F-fine, sir."
"I assume the pain of it hit you within the first five minutes, yet you've neglected to say anything despite me telling you to tell me. What level are you at now, scale of one to ten, ten being the worst."
"Bout nine…" Harry managed out and Severus chuckled, "This is why I wanted you to keep me informed, you may stand, sit on the chair and leave your knees exposed."
At first Harry hesitated, Severus having to give him a look of warning for disobedience, but then he managed to get up, using more hand strength than anything and hobbled over to his chair. Severus spelled up the mess, and then pulled from his pocket a very small vile of salve.
Taking up a clean rag from the sink he got it damp and then knelt down before the boy, "We will also be laying down more ground rules so we don't have to go through this again, despite what opinions you have of me, I do not approve of corporal punishment, especially on children, I am sorry this was the only option available to me, but you seem to have used up every other punishment I could give."
"It's fine sir, really." Harry said and Severus felt that turn in his stomach at such a kind offer of forgiveness given he had just punished the boy rather harshly, could this boy truly hate no one?
Severus noticed the boy's eyes grow wide when he leaned down to look at his knees, bloody red scratches and obvious sores erupted like a patch of raw meat over his knee caps. Harry glanced to where he had just been kneeling and quickly looked away, "Your dad used to make you do that...for hours?"
Severus was in the process of gently wiping the boy's knees clean of any remaining grains, Harry wincing every once and awhile when Severus found a particularly deep one.
"Yes." was all Severus could say as his back stiffened and his fingers squeezed a little too hard, Harry started at the tight grip and Severus looked up at him with a hard stare, "Hold still."
"He made you do that often?" the boy asked curiously.
Severus sighed and closed his eyes a moment, his hands stilling as he reasoned with himself what harm it could do to speak of such things, he needed the boy to trust him, but how could you trust someone you hardly knew. Still, he didn't want pity from anyone, let alone Potter, so he spoke firmly but kept his voice even, "I'm not wanting your pity, in fact it repels me, but since you're so very curious to know, my father was an alcoholic steel mill worker with a temper far worse than my own and a very skewed sense of justice. His great joys in life were liquor, cigars and terrorizing my mother. When she died his attentions assuredly turned to me...as you saw when you so rudely watched my memories in the pensive last year."
Harry looked away in shame and his hands gripped hard onto the edge of his seat, "Professor, about that night… I am sorry, and I do feel awful… I just wanted to know why you hated me so much… what I had done to warrant your spite and anger. My curiosity got the better of me, but that's no excuse, I shouldn't have invaded your privacy like that."
The salve was going onto the wounds now, in a few minutes they would be gone, not even a scar would remain. When Severus stood he looked down upon the boy before him and while his natural temperament was trying to take over and urge him to pull away, to tell the brat off and remind him of how very stupid and entitled he thought he was, his mission dictated he do everything in his power to win the boy over, so he simply placed a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder and swallowed his bitterness, "I accept your apology and forgive your actions. Now, let's not speak of it again, you may roll down your pants and we will eat breakfast."
Severus flicked his wand and the kitchen came to life, ten minutes later Harry had before him, a prop English breakfast, the largest meal he had had while staying with Severus and his eyes lit up in near joy.
They ate in silence, Severus not near as hungry as the teen who was eating with much gusto, his mind focusing on the peculiar feeling he was having.
As soon as he had spoken the words, forgiven the boy and accepted the apology his chest had felt...lighter...his shoulders less cramped. It was a strange reaction to say the least as Severus had only said it to further his bond with the boy, apparently though somewhere inside he had meant it and the bitter unrest it had neatly evaporated was not missed by him.
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Harry felt good, really good, as while the punishment had been awful, Snape had been fair about it as strange as that sounded, he had not even made Harry stay on the ground the full hour. His knees didn't even hurt and the breakfast had lifted his mood considerably.
The two where now in the sitting room, Snape sipping his coffee as he was about to lay down some ground rules, for which, Harry was grateful albeit nervous.
"First, let's just say this for the sake of consistency, no drinking unless you ask and it is in my presence. You know the policy about going out, and you know the basic time table I set for eating. The remaining list is short but do pay attention as I'd hate to have to repeat this morning in the future. Your room is kept clean, your homework gets finished before summer's end, letters only to those we agree upon and you need to tell me when you send them. I shall trust that you can be discreet enough to not warrant concern from me about the letters contents. No one in the house unless I give you leave to do so, and no snooping about. If you are curious just ask, if it is relevant I will answer whatever questions you may have. I've never had a child in my home, nor have I raised one so it had not occurred to me the level of clarity you would need to remain… out of mischief."
Harry noticed the man smirk and gave a soft smile back, "Do you have any questions?"
Harry thought a moment and then nodded, "Sir, have you had contact with Professor Dumbledore?"
This seemed to catch the man off guard though he responded quickly, "The Headmaster has been gone over the last several weeks, including the days you've been here with me, I've only received a few fire calls, and they have been...brief. why do you ask?"
"It's just… I wrote him a letter...he usually responds within a day or two...I've heard nothing back. I'm worried..."
"You've nothing to fear, the Headmaster can take care of himself… I am sure he will respond when he has the time to do so."
Harry could only nod and feel a small bit of relief settle in his belly, for now that would have to do, the boy saw Severus reach for his paper but Harry didn't want the conversation to end so he blurted out quickly, "How old were you when your mum died?"
The question had been meant to illicit a conversation, but as Harry watched the man freeze mid reach for his paper, those black eyes staring at the words blankly before scanning up to look at him, Harry regretted asking, "I'm… sorry sir, I… shouldn't have… i dont have the right to ask such a thing."
"You don't, but that makes me wonder why you did." Snape asked as his hand suddenly started to move again and it landed on his coffee instead, "I- well… when I first got here I thought it was a sort of safe house… a place to hide me away because my friends… the burrow had been compromised. But now that I know… it's your childhood home… I realize what it must have been like to grow up in such a sad… I… nevermind sir."
"Speak your mind now or forever hold that wagging tongue of yours." Snape warned him, and Harry realized this might be his only chance to have a real conversation with the man, "As far as I know… I am the only student in my house at school who… who has been...abused." The word came out like a bad taste and Harry clenched his eyes closed and looked away in embarrassment, that word just seemed so not appropriate, he didn't feel abused, he just felt unwanted… it seemed so much more intense than what had actually happened in his life.
"If there are others, I've never met them. When I came here… met Jimmy and the others… I started to feel like I belonged here. There were others like me who came from… less than desirable homes… I want to… for the first time in my entire life I want to be able to talk to someone about it… I want to share and not feel so...alone with it. I don't have to hide it anymore, act like I am fine when I am not. They can understand that part of my life better then even Ron or Hermione could, in fact I am sure Ron and Hermione could never really understand. But, I've agreed not to see Jimmy or the group anymore … so… I've not anyone else to talk to about it. No one but you, because I know now you'd understand. You'd not think I'm looking for pity or false condolences or even comfort… just the ability to speak my truths and know I'm not… not being judged or treated like some pariah, I'm just Harry….who came from a bad place and ended up in a good one."
He wasn't sure if the man understood, Snape was just staring at him, his eyes laced with a strange curiosity and an intensity Harry had only seen once before, in his bedroom… last night.
Swallowing he raised a hand to adjust his glasses, his middle finger pressing the connecting bar between the two lenses back up his nose as he felt his teeth clench and his mouth smear down into consternation. When his eyes glanced back up the look was gone and Snape's face was back behind that neutral mask of stone.
Still, after another few seconds the man simply stood and walked into the kitchen, returning with the percolator and refreshing both their cups, depositing the dented metal pot onto the small table between them and then leaning back in his chair, "I was nine I believe, you'll have to excuse me as much of that time was an anxious blurr to me. Days often blended together through long nights of fear and terror. Up until I was about twelve my memories are cloudy and muted."
Harry nodded, picking up his coffee and looking at the brown liquid with acceptance, "I can't remember much before I turned ten. Just bits and pieces, trying to see out from my cupboard, through the slits in the metal plate they handed me food through. They'd let me out if they needed things done, chores and the like, making food or being company for Dudley...more so a punching bag… I shouldn't, but part of me wishes I could remember more."
Snape snorted, "Whatever for? Appreciate the clouds, Potter. They make it easier to exist in the here and now."
Harry licked his lips, "I don't know, sometimes I think it's because… if I could recall more memories… maybe I would be able to hate them more… but I don't hate them… I just feel sorry for them. I wish I could hate them, but it's just not there."
"You are lucky." Harry looked up at that, questions lingering on his face, "Hate can turn you into many things, least of which being a bitter old prick."
Snape offered up and Harry knew the man was talking about himself, he dared to be bold and added teasingly, "With a fondness for black?"
Snape looked at him out of the corner of his eye before the barest traces of a smirk tried to grab onto the corner of his mouth, "With a preference for black, in regards to hate and it's effects you're never fond of anything."
Harry couldn't believe the man had just played into his joke, the smile that tore across his face was unstoppable and the small amount of chuckles that escaped him he tried to stiffly with his hand, "Forgive me, you wear it so often…"
"It was originally out of respect for my mother, when I was old enough to understand the concept of black clothes for mourning it was all I wore… and I simply never changed."
This sobered Harry quickly and looked away in remorse, "Black is also quite slimming." and Harry's head jerked up to see that hidden smirk again and seconds later he we smiling too.
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This boy was far too easy to please… say anything you want, even hint at a bit of humour and he was smiling like a child at the zoo. It unnerved Severus but also made him feel far more charming than he actually was. He had never been social, never been one to make jokes or be clever in that sense. He was clever in other ways and rarely found the need to try and be some boisterous and witty life of the party. No, his quick wit was reserved for insults and matters of fact.
Yet, the ego stroking he was receiving from this boy made him feel like a bird preening his feathers. He couldn't seem to stop at this point, every time he made a joke, however small or menial the boy was smiling, chuckling or outright laughing, his smile reminding him of both James and Lily. The size and shape of it was that of James, the kindness and genuineness of it reminded him of Lily.
The conversation had ranged thus far from Severus's clothes, to the unfathomable amount of times Potter had broken his glasses, to Severus's first original potions he had worked on in his youth and the dire results of his mistakes via trial and error and then to Harry's first attempt time riding a Hippogriff.
It had been two hours now and they both were sitting there quietly, the humour having died off and Severus, although he was feeling relatively light for the first time in years, knew something was coming. He could tell by the way the boy looked away, how the light in his eyes faded and his smile simply disappeared, "Sir?"
"Yes?"
"Do you ever feel… responsible for your mother's death?" It was a doozy of a question, one he had asked himself for years prior to becoming who he was now, and after many sleepless nights, bottles upon bottles of brandy and several mental breakdowns, he could answer this without a second thought, "No."
This seemed to surprise the boy so Severus aimed to clarify, "It was not my hand which pushed her down the stairs."
Harry reeled back at this, shock and understanding twisting its way into his bright green eyes, "You mean-"
"My father was terribly drunk, probably the most inebriated he had ever been that I can recall, he was trying to come after me and she stepped in his way. The entire story is better left to the past, but I can tell you that the people around here at the time held my mother under enough skepticism that it wasn't very hard for my father to put it down to a alcohol related accident…. Do you feel that you are responsible for your mother's death?" the question was redundant as it was obvious in some way the boy did, yet Harry surprised him by saying, "Voldemort killed my parents… the only blame that lays on me is being born in the wrong month." The bitter tone in his voice sent a shiver up his spine as Severus had never heard such a sound come from this boy, even when he was in detention for something as minor as being five minutes late to class.
"As morbid as it may sound, sir. My only regret is not going with them. I think… it would have been easier...but I know how selfish that is… still… easy sounds awfully good to someone like me… someone in my situation I mean."
"Often the road less traveled is not easy to cross, yet the benefits often outweigh the cost." Severus mused, "I suppose so, sir. I'd never change my life, I just wish it wasn't mine. It's a confusing feeling to have, loving your life and hating it all at the same time. I'd do it again if I had the chance, so I could know Ron and Hermione, go to Hogwarts and have the adventures I've had… I just wish death wasn't so prominent a companion. I feel like I am a bringer of death… just more tripe in my head I suppose."
Severus wasn't sure how to respond, so he simply tried to find a way to relate, "If I have one regret in my life, in regards to my mother at least, it would be that I did not tell the authorities the truth. My father elected to threaten and scare me into silence, I should have ignored it and acted sooner, told them the truth so they would take him away, all the evidence was there but it was my proof they needed to make a real case… most don't care about some poverty stricken family… just the end result...I could have changed that."
"You were young, scared...what would have ever led you to believe things could be different than how they were. It isn't like you had a large amount of different experiences. You couldn't have known people would listen, that people would care… most of the time I didn't believe people would listen… some didn't when I tried to tell them.. the one person who did ended up being lead to believe I invented it all...so how were you supposed to know anything different than what you'd been taught?" Harry questioned in Severus's defense.
Severus knew the boy had a good point even if he couldn't articulate it very well, he also had a feeling that the boy wasn't just talking about him, Potter no doubt had similar experiences and feelings on the matter. His next words came out and he knew they shouldn't have, "By that point I had a friend, someone who had urged me to come forward, yet I didn't. That should have been my saving grace, her friendship… instead I continued to lie, thinking in my head I wasn't just protecting myself, but that I was protecting her as well. I had nightmares… dreams where my father would come and take my friend away, bury her in some shallow grave in retribution for me telling. Do not think I didn't know better, that is why it's one of my few regrets."
"You had a friend?"
Severus gave him a quizzical look and Harry quickly corrected, "I didn't mean that in the way it sounded, I just meant… you know what I meant professor." Harry snipped that last part out in irritation as his cheeks grew a light shade of pink.
Severus smirked and then nodded, "Yes, my mother insisted, to this day I swear she urged me to go out and make friends because she knew my father would eventually kill her. That I would be left alone with him and that I would need someone… she only stayed because of me… she knew she couldn't beat him or protect me once he'd done her in. So I made a friend upon her request, we remained so through most of school."
"Most of school, what happened sir?"
Severus bit his tongue at the sudden admission and then cursed himself, it was too soon for this, he wasn't ready to reveal that to Potter just yet, "Somethings are better left unsaid, out of respect please set the topic rest." and the boy nodded respectfully.
"On a different note, we need to speak about your dream last night." and Severus saw the color drain from the boy's face, green eyes wincing and thin lips setting in a hard line.
"I realize you may not wish to, but these dreams of yours are dangerous, your reactions in the real world are unpredictable and co spidering what happened last year…. I would like to monitor them, it may help you in the long run to share it so that you don't get confused on what is real and what could be just a dream."
Harry looked bitterly to the ground, his next comment was tight and laced with an anger that had long been restrained, "I won't make that same mistake again."
Severus knew to tread carefully here, as the boy's reaction that night and the subsequent sojourn to the ministry had been partially due to Snape's dismissive nature when Potter had told him a clue to what was going on.
"He's got Padfoot, He's got Padfoot at the place where it's hidden."
"Hidden? Where what's Hidden? What's he talking about Severus?"
"No idea."
If he wasn't such a damn good liar… or had been able to let the boy know he planned to look into it, that night could have been very different, as it was, Umbridge had made it impossible to signal anything other than a negative.
"Still, it would be best to share it with me, if for nothing more than your sanity."
Harry seemed to nod reluctantly and he let out a puff of air before he started to explain his dream.
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Harry had never gone in depth about his dreams before, he always only gave bits and pieces, either unable to describe it or simply not wanting to relive it. In this instance however, he was being ordered to share, and he was expected to share it all. The dream itself wasn't anything directly from Voldemort, Harry had learned by now how to tell the dreams from the reality. He couldn't explain, but somehow he just knew…
So when he opened his mouth to try and share he felt an instinctive desire to hold back, "My dreams always start out the same, just black, a thick black, the kind that feels like a wet blanket on your skin, that makes you feel like you can't breath and it just gets tighter, sinking into my skin and down my throat. There's always voices, people I know and people I don't… but his voice….his voice rises above the others...always echoing but I almost never see him...physically. The times I do, I wish I didn't, because it's just this wisp of a creature, near like a Dementor but with a dirty green glow, like something toxic. And then this septic smell… burning flesh and maybe rotting meat just coats me like oil, fire and blood are all over the floor, sometimes it's an ocean of blood just stretching out into more black. This is where the dream usually changes, the other night it… Sirius was there and my mum, in the ocean of blood...trying to swim to shore, trying to reach me...but he just keeps flicking his wand, dunking them, drowning them in it. Im wading out to them, but he keeps pulling me back, telling me to wait and watch, like something is going to happen. He makes it sound so grand and glorious, like this is some sacrificial ceremony to be respected and admired. I just keep fighting to get to them… begging him to stop, he is hurting them...drowning them… they can't catch their breath and yet still they keep trying to get to shore. Sirius goes under first….then mum, they don't come back up and I start to scream...I'm just screaming and screaming into the dark and he's laughing, his hand on my shoulder and offering words of condolence and apology… like it wasn't his fault, like it was beyond anyone's control...you woke me up right as I turned to...to try to...I wanted to kill him."
Harry looked away then, not wanting to remember how real it had been, how utterly hopeless and angry and twisted his mind felt after.
"When I woke up….I just needed to feel grounded again, I needed something or someone to just...hold on to me...I thought I was still there, even with my eyes open and I couldn't shake it. It was the same feeling my second day, when you came down and I wasn't quite here with you. Sometimes I wake up from these dreams and my brain just feels….gone. My body feels hollow, like I'm not even really here. It helped to have you there, to bring me back."
Harry was being honest, his emotions right now were under control and he felt his sincerity and intent were clear. He needed to have someone who could bring him back from that edge, from the un-reality he faced nightly. He didn't know how to make it any clearer, "I feel insane sometimes after, like I'm not me anymore, but just a cut off part of him, a discarded piece of his warped mind."
He fell silent after that, not sure what else to say and Snape had sat quietly and simply listened, his dark eyes never wavering nor his face giving off any emotions. Still, when the man finally spoke what he shared surprised Harry to say the least.
"I have had…..the misfortune of having the Dark Lord in my mind, on several occasions, I often feel the same way after. It is disorienting and near caustic to feel things as he does, it's a miracle to walk away without becoming unhinged and a testament to your spirit if you live through it."
Harry could only nod before he asked, "How do you regain balance after he...does it?"
Snape seemed to think on the question a moment before he simply looked Harry in the eyes and said, "I am not sure I ever really do."
To that comment, Harry had nothing he could say.
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They ate dinner in silence, the mood not necessarily being heavy, but the amount of conversation held today had been exhausting. Harry had given Snape his Transfigurations homework to look over and edit and now that they were eating the silence was relaxing.
Finally, Snape wiped his mouth and looked at him, "I have a possible solution to your problem."
Harry looked up at this, fork midway to his mouth and he blinked, "Which problem, sir?"
"You're dreams."
Harry set down his fork and wiped his mouth as well as he grew slightly excited and very curious, "What is it?"
"It's a combination of things, namely dreamless sleep and the skill of meditation. I've found both, in small amounts at the same time can do wonders to keep less than desirable dreams at bay."
"Meditation, sir? You meditate?"
"On occasion, even my mind can have trouble focusing in times such as these, as a spy keeping my mind clear and focused is one of my greatest advantages. It may help, and if you wish I can teach you."
Harry was unsure, as the last time Snape tried to help him clear his mind and focus it ended disastrously. Yet, things between them were different now, perhaps this could turn into something that could help. He would love to be able to sleep through the night again and he honestly had nothing to lose.
As he was about to answer a hurried and loud knock came to the door, both Snape and Harry standing and moving through the house silently. Snape reached it first and Harry stood a little ways behind, "Johnny?" Harry asked in shock, "Professor, we need your help." He said in a rush.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked, grabbing the edge of the door before Snape could slam it in the boy's face.
"It's Stacy, her dad came round, he took her. Harry, he's drunk...really drunk and he was talking like… like the devil is in him. He's assaulted her before...that's why he doesn't live with them… He's going to hurt her Harry. We need the Professor's help."
Harry looked to Snape and the man's eyes narrowed, "Why me?" Snape asked though his eyes didn't leave Harry's, his fingers tightened around the edge of the door and the boy's did the same, neither wanting the other to win.
"He's a big guy… bigger than me or Jimmy, we can't take him… but you could."
Snape's head jerked towards the boy then, the incredulous look upon his brow near comical, "What makes you think-"
"I heard what you said to Jimmy that night, threatening him over Harry… they were real threats, only someone who could back them up would make them. You may not like us, but Stacy isn't a bad kid, she's a really good kid who's had bad things happen to her….and she needs our help." Harry's jaw dropped at this statement as his mind was pulled back in time momentarily.
"The police-" Snape started.
"Won't do shite, he's been molesting her for years...why would they stop it now?"
This time Harry and Snape looked at each other, their eyes meeting and they both knew the hypocrisy of what was about to happen. Not even four hours ago they were having this same conversation, yet both of them knew they were going to walk out that door and take matters into their own hands.
"Grab your wand Potter, do you have yours?" he asked looking to the boy on the steps, Johnny nodded and once Harry had returned back down stairs they looked to him, "You both will listen and understand this, none of us will use our wands unless it is absolutely necessary… I don't care if there is a knife to someone's throat or a gun to someone's head, unless you hear me give the order your wands stay out of sight, understand?"
The boys nodded and Snape sighed, "Now, have you even the slightest of clues as to where he has taken her?"
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They had met up with the rest of the boy's down an alley that Harry noticed was called Trotter's Lane. All hushed voices coming to a stop on their approach.
"Where's Lee?" Harry asked.
"He's with Stacy's mum, taking her to hospital." Jessie said as he glanced to Jimmy who looked rather bent up.
The silence fell thick and no pleasantries were exchanged as the sudden realization of the situation set in, so Severus took up the lead, "Where is she? Where would her father take her?"
Jimmy looked pale, and Harry saw the swelling under his right eyes, "Stacy told me once, there was this ol' church, out in the sticks...passed Grandfather's Oak. He took 'er there anytime he wanted ta…. Tha's the only place I know of."
"I know the place, it's secluded and condemned, only rotters go there." Johnny offered.
"Rotters?" Harry asked.
"Ya know, shooters, coke-heads...druggies." Jessie offered as he swiped his hands across his forehead.
"I know it as well, but if we are going to do this then we shall do it right. You two will go to the front and create a distraction," Snape said as he motioned to Johnny and Jessie, "James and Harry will come with me round the back. We may have to play this by ear as I do not remember the layout of the area so you must all listen for my instructions. Don't hesitate or you may end up injured or dead. I don't know this man either, I want you to tell me about him on the way. So let's move."
Severus strode off and the group followed, Jimmy lagging to talk to Harry, "Blimey, he a strategist or what?"
"You could say that, he has experience in the...military…. covert operations." Harry half lied, "What happens to your eye?"
"Ya kiddin'? Stacy's da got me when I tried to get 'im off her. Nasty bloke, I'm steaming just thinking about what he's doin' ta her. If we don't find her, she'll be-"
"James, up front and center, I need your head in the game. Harry, fall to the back and watch our rear, anything strange and I want to be signaled."
The two boy's instantly complied, Harry keeping his eyes peeled knowing that Snape was most likely referring to more than just Stacy's father.
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When the group approached the church they stayed low and in the bushes, the area being heavily overgrown and covered in thick trees. The silence was deafening and Severus motioned for the boy's to keep quiet. It was a few seconds before they heard some shuffling in the building and then some murmured talking.
"We need closer, I'll not barge into a group of smack heads, where is the closest window?" Severus asked Johnny, the boy pointed and Severus started to move before he turned back, "James, you keep them out of sight, I will be back in a moment. Not one of you moves from this spot, Harry, I want you with me, I may need someone small."
The boy gave him a look of annoyance at the comment but nodded and moved forward regardless. Together they moved silently, something that almost surprised Severus given Potter's penchant for clumsiness.
When they finally got to the building Severus could hear faint crying and the deep base of a man murmuring softly. He motioned one last time for Harry to remain quiet and they slowly peeked up over the edge of the window sill.
Inside they say Stacy on the floor, clad in only her knickers and a tank top, her legs curled up under her as a hand came up to her mouth and she tried to stifle her sobs.
Finally the man's voice became clear and it was laced with a sorrow that was thick and slurred, "Ah, baby girl, daddies sorry, but ya gotta understand… your my daughter, I don't want anything to happen to ya. Ya belong with me, I love you. I love you so bloody much, and that bitch- that mother of yours keeps tryin ta take ya from me." He had been standing away from her, looking at a large bottle of some sort of liquor. He drained the last of it and then tossed it away, the noise making Stacy jump and give a small gasp before she looked up, "I never want to hurt ya, I don't, but you get me temper going and then it just happens. Ya know I love ya, yeah?"
When the girl didn't respond right away he approached quick, his features hidden by heavy shadow and hanging bits of garbage and fabric. Severus realized the group of teens had not been lying about the man's stature, he had several well made inches on Severus who by most standards was tall, it was suddenly very clear where the young girl Stacy had gotten her long and slender body.
Severus felt Harry nearly jerk to stand when Stacy's dad grabbed her by the hair and yanked her to him, he had to half restrain him by taking his arm forcefully, "Ya know it yeah?" her father repeated.
"Yes!" Stacy near screamed, "Yes, daddy, you love me I know!"
"Ya my girl, my little girl and I love ya, and that bitch doesn't get ta keep ya from me any more!" he fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around her, something that would appear like a devastatingly loving hug between father and daughter. Near heartbreaking as he sobbed into her neck and rocked her a little.
Stacy's shaky, and Severus noticed, bloody hand came up to barely cup the back of her father's head, her eyes wide and terrified as she looked unblinking at the ceiling.
"Oh god, my girl I love ya." He sobbed out and that's when the moment started to go wrong, Severus saw the man's hand leave her waist and slowly start to glide down her bare leg, "I love ya my darlin' girl, and no one's going to keep us apart."
Stacy started to struggle and then started to sob, "Daddy, daddy stop!"
Severus touched Harry's shoulder and those green eyes looked to him, filled with such a heated rage Severus felt like he could only admire it, "Go back to the boy's, tell them to go round the back, there is a set of doors, count to 30 and if you don't hear the signal I want you all to come in and aim for the girl. If any of you get hold of her, you run, you go straight back to my house, and you bloody stay there or you'll be next on my list, got it Potter?"
"Yes, sir. What signal?"
"You'll know it…" he hesitated, his eyes studying the boy's face and Harry's anger just barely slipped away as a small strand of surprise took over his face. Severus didn't know why he did it, but he gently reached out and took the boy's chin, "You better be at that house...or so help me you'll regret it."
Harry nodded quickly and Severus nodded in return, "Good...now move!"
A scream reached through the air, several curses rang out and then the sound of a hand smacking against skin before a thud was heard and another sob, that's when Severus stood, he moved quick, and was up and through the broken window before Potter could say anything else.
A/N: So, I hope you liked this chapter. I didn't have time to really edit so I hope it wasn't too off. Look for seven coming in a few days….hopefully, R&R or it may take longer. I'm just kidding, much love Apprentice08.