A/N: Long awaited waking up for Severus. A small peak into Draco's mind. And a very small bit into the continuing investigation. Insolent Harry. Concerned-father Severus. Lustful Draco. Yummm.



Monday morning again. Harry dressed slowly and went to the Potions classroom. His father ignored him during class, which had been his standard operating procedure. That way, he couldn't be said to favor Harry or to disfavor him. Harry snorted in disgust at the thought. He doesn't even want me around, he thought bitterly. I bet he's glad he came up with that plan for class before all this happened, because this way he doesn't even have to acknowledge that I exist.

The end of the period came. Harry stood up and concentrated on walking towards the front of the classroom without limping or making any outward show of pain. Essays were always due on Mondays in Potions, and this Monday was no exception. He hadn't talked to his father since... since the last Monday Potions class. When he had given his father the article, and then ran out the door.

Severus took a deep breath. He had to be the one to give up his pride and speak first. he began, reaching for his son's left wrist, to stop him from fleeing. Several things happened at once. He encountered not flesh, but something hard and rough. He started to speak. Sweet Merlin, what is – and Harry yelled quite loudly. There were a few students remaining, and Ron whirled around when he heard Pansy Parkinson snicker and then whisper something to Millicent Bulstrode with a knowing smile on her face. He turned back to Hermione and told her, causing her to immediately pull out their list and make a notation. Then Severus saw all the remaining students and shooed them out of the classroom.

Harry, what is going on? he asked, his tones controlled and careful.

I don't know what you mean, Harry replied cautiously.

Severus scowled, and retrieved his wand from his desk drawer, where he kept it safe during class. Finite Incantem, he recited, wand pointed at his son. Then he pulled back Harry's left sleeve, exposing the cast. What is this?

It's called a cast, Harry explained wearily. A Muggle way of healing... of healing broken bones.

You have a broken arm? Severus asked, eyes wide. Why didn't you go to Madam Pomfrey?

Don't you know that would only make it worse? Harry said bitterly. Harry Snape, the pouf, running to the professors as soon as anyone touches him? Next time could be even worse.

Even worse? Harry Snape, what are you not telling me?

Harry snapped. He pulled up his trousers to reveal the wrapped ankle. I sprained my ankle too. Hermione couldn't heal either of those, she didn't know the spells.

Does that mean that Hermione did heal something else?

Harry remained silent. He was not going to give in. His father didn't give a damn, and he certainly wasn't going to parade his injuries around in front of him to analyze clinically.

Severus stepped back slightly and took a look at his son, then sighed. It was apparent that Harry really didn't think that he cared at all. he said more softly, let me assure you that I do in fact care about you and your injuries.

Why? So that your gay son isn't your injured gay son, so that you don't feel so guilty about turning me away?

Severus's face dropped. I suppose I deserved some part of that, but it doesn't give you the right to address me in that manner. I was wrong in my... initial response to you.

And it took me getting beat up for you to realise it. Isn't that just bloody wonderful.

Severus winced inwardly. I told you, you cannot address me in such a manner! I am your father and your professor.

Harry stared at him. He closed and locked the door, then began taking off his uniform. You want to see what they did to me? Don't worry, the bruises from the first time are all healed. He pulled his sweater over his head. That was just a busted lip, a black eye, and a few kicks. Now he dropped his pants. I don't think any of the cuts on my legs were bad enough to leave a scar. Then he unbuttoned his shirt and slowly took it off, revealing half-dozen new, red scars from the knife gashes he had received. And that's just what's still visible, he added quietly. I really don't know how bad it was, you'd have to ask Ron, Hermione, Seamus, or Dean.

Severus blached visibly and reached down to his desk to steady himself. he breathed softly. Oh Harry... why didn't you tell me? Or someone? This... this is criminal, just from what I've seen here.

Harry shrugged. We don't know who did it. Or, at least, we don't know all of who did it. We know a lot more about who didn't do it, though.

You're investigating? Severus's eyebrows rose. Why am I not surprised, he asked rhetorically. Very well. I expect yourself and anyone aware of these events to come down to my office after dinner. ALL of them, Harry.

Harry sighed. Father or no, he still knew you didn't mess with Severus Snape. Yes, sir. After pulling his uniform back on, he hurriedly limped his way to his next class.



That afternoon, Harry took the obliging Ananda back to the greenhouses with him for Herbology, where she captured three rats that Harry examined before she ingested them. Justin was aware of the change in assignment and kept casting glares at Harry as he worked with the Devil's Snare. What Harry didn't breathe to a soul was that he had given the plant some particularly violence-inducing charmed food when he came to class early, and Justin would find that he would have difficulty with the plant until at least the Christmas holidays. Harry chuckled inwardly as he worked with Ron and Hermione on their own relatively docile Devil's Snare, along with the boringly predictable aloe plant, and Ron and Hermione's gillyweed. Thank goodness he stilll had Ron and Hermione, no matter what the rest of the world seemed to throw at him.

Just before dinner, the group of seven met to share what they had unearthed during the day, and the list of suspects was narrowed down even more. Then, sighing, Harry told them of their upcoming audience with his father.

Er, I don't know if you were still around, Dean, Seamus, and I know you weren't, Fred and George, but my father stopped me after Potions today, and he stopped me by putting his hands on my wrist. My left wrist. The others' eyes widened. He wants all of us to go to his office this evening right after dinner.

Ron's eyes widened. Harry, I know he's your father and all, but you're asking to voluntarily spend time with Snape!

Harry sighed. No, I'm not. The request, if you want to call it that, came from him, not me, and it's not exactly optional, according to him.

The others sighed darkly as they trooped down to dinner, Hermione toting a book with her, as always. I decided to read up on more advanced magical healing, she explained to Harry's curious look at the title. Apparently, you can't get much beyond what I did without having some innate talent in the field – which I don't think I have. I'm interested, though, on how to recognise the talent in others, because I think Seamus may have it, she added in a quiet tone.

Harry smiled. Are you going to tell him?

Hermione shook her head. Not until I'm reasonably certain. Harry merely nodded understandingly and filed the tidbit of information away. As they got older, each of his friends was showing particular talents in one or two areas specifically – and Harry was enjoying watching them unfold, in an odd sort of way. It was a privilege, he reflected.



The seven trouped down to Severus's office immediately following dinner, Harry opening the door and telling the others to settle in while they waited. He knew from experience that his father hated to have people idling about' his door.

The door slammed open and Severus whisked into the room, closing the door rapidly behind him and settling himself at his desk. Very well, then, let us begin. Miss Granger, would you begin with your version of events?

Hermione nodded, lips pressed together tightly. Last Thursday evening, Ron and I were concerned when Harry hadn't returned to the Tower after his evening meeting with Professor Lupin. We knew... we knew he wasn't meeting with you, sir, as was his custom. A bit after curfew, we used... a map of the school to locate him.

A map? Severus's tone was incredulous.

Er, I'll tell you later, Harry interjected. Go on, Mione, don't worry about it.

Nodding, Hermione continued. It shows the location of people with a black dot. Harry's dot... Harry's dot was flickering. Seamus woke up and accompanied us to get Harry. We brought him back to his bed, and began to heal him. Dean and Seamus worked on removing the magical traces, and Ron assisted me with the physical wounds.

Mr. Weasley? Anything you would add?

We didn't wake up Neville to help. Because Seamus said he had been gone for a bit during the evening and his knuckles were scraped. And... there's one other thing. That only I know, and I haven't told Harry yet, so it'd be best if the others waited outside.

Understandingly, the others left quickly, and Ron turned to Harry, sadness in his eyes. Harry, I was the one that cleaned you off, and changed you. You understand? At Harry's nod, he continued. The reason we were able to determine our other definite was because she left behind a splinter off her wand. Harry's eyes widened. Harry... it was... I found it underneath your...

Harry gasped. Oh God... no, don't say it, Ron... oh God... they didn't...

Severus's last reserves were broken down and he was torn between the need to comfort his son and murderous rage towards the perpetrators of this crime. The sight of his sobbing son drew him back to the here and now, and he got up from behind his desk and drew Harry into his arms. He frowned sadly and looked at Ron. Thank you, Mr. Weasley, he said softly, not a trace of his usual sarcasm. You have shown maturity beyond my wildest expectations tonight. I will not forget it. Thank you.

Harry stopped sobbing and wiped his eyes, cleaning himself off and straightening his robes. Thank you, he said quietly, intending the message for both of his companions, and both merely nodded. The others can return now.

The others filed back in, expressions curious, but respectfully silent. Severus finally spoke. I assume that you have your own plans for discovering the culprits? All of them nodded. And why do I think that you two have plans for subtly paying them back? he addressed the Weasley twins. They nodded. Very well. Continue as you are, but I will need a copy of the list of perpatrators when you have compiled what you think is a complete list. I will go to Professor Dumbledore then. They must be punished. Harry, you are a smart boy, and your friends have been protecting you. Continue for a time; it will get better. The rest of you may leave. Harry, if you would stay for a bit?

Harry remained sitting as the others left. I do have Quidditch practise, he started uncertainly, but Severus waved him off.

Nonsense. You can't fly like that anyway, and Mr. Weasley would be put in the position of not allowing you to fly without allowing why. Far better for you to simply miss practise, with my excuse note.

Harry nodded. Should I leave, then?

Merlin, no! We still need to talk... I need to apologise.

Startled, Harry sank deeper into his chair and nodded.



Draco Malfoy had taken over a chair in an isolated, darkened portion of the Slytherin common room. He had noticed Pansy's nearly triumphant look at Harry's expression of pain at the end of Potions class. There was another problem, that he had to call him Harry now, because Professor Snape was simply Snape, and Harry was a Potter no longer. Draco shook his head irritably. This wasn't helping the question. Draco wasn't a fool; he knew what happened to openly gay wizards, at least in some segments of wizarding society. Likely Harry had had some idea as well, or he wouldn't have been hiding it. So he guessed that Harry had been beaten up for his sexual orientation, especially given the behaviors of some of the other Gryffindorks. He also was willing to bet that Snape was going to find out now, and that things wouldn't be pleasant for Pansy or any other members of Slytherin House that were found to have participated in whatever had occured.

Then there was the fact that Harry was attractive, in a tall, dark, Snape-y sort of way, combined with those green eyes. Draco had always told himself he disliked Harry, he acted like he hated Harry, but the truth was, he envied Harry. And now, he envied whoever had had the opportunity to write that article for Witch Weekly. The bravery of a Gryffindor, the way that Harry threw himself totally into whatever he did, combined with the bloodline of a Snape. The Potions professor was fairly passionate, even if it was solely about potions. Draco shuddered. He lusted for Harry Snape; that much he understood.



Harry stood up finally, spent. He and his father had just spent the past three hours talking about Harry being gay, the relationship he had been in, how to handle the aftershocks, and, most embarassingly, safe sex. Harry had, horrified, tried to explain that he had not had sexual intercourse, he wasn't planning to in the next few months, and, besides, he could easily get the information he needed from books or someone with same-gender experience. Severus had been much relieved and quickly let the matter drop.

Overall, Harry was much happier when he left his father's office, but stopped short when he stepped into the hall, safely wrapped in his invisibility cloak. There, on the cold stone floor, were his friends, all of them, waiting for him to finish so that they could walk back to Gryffindor Tower. He smiled as he took off the cloak. Hey, you lot. I did have the invisibility cloak with me.

They all jumped up. We know, but we needed time to go over what we've learned today some place private, Seamus said. Here was as good as any. The others nodded enthusiastically, and Harry had to grin.

C'mon. Let's get back to the Tower, it's late. Almost as one, the seven friends headed out of the dungeons and up towards Gryffindor Tower, Harry happily walking beside them as his father had been able to finally heal the sprained ankle. They were in such a large group that the attack group Pansy Parkinson had gathered decided not to attack, and Harry nor the others realised how close he came to being assaulted yet another time.