Snape sighed. He really wasn't cut out to be a father figure. But he didn't regret volunteering to look after Harry, because he remembered passing out in the hallways of Hogwarts one day after having the Cruciatus put on him. Dumbledore had virtually carried him up to his office and talked to him. Snape had never confessed to working for Voldemort at the time, but Dumbledore's kindness where other teachers might have just told him to go to the Infirmary had eaten away at him. The memory of sitting in blissful silence which Dumbledore simply handed him a cup of tea and sat back, admiring the view from the window, with no tension in the atmosphere, made him squirm inside to know that he was working towards the downfall of this kind man.

Eventually he had broken down, and tried to poison himself using a very complex potion. Dumbledore arrived at the last moment and Snape had confessed everything. And he shouldn't have been surprised that the Headmaster already knew, but was just waiting for Snape to tell him.

Dumbledore, Snape reflected, knew everything about the school and it's pupils.

So why hadn't he picked up on Harry?

***************************

Morning light assaulted Harry's eyes. It was too early. For a moment he thought he might be at the Dursley's. This place wasn't familiar to him.

It was when he heard a painfully familiar voice.

"Good morning, Mr Potter. How are you feeling?"

Snape's obsidian eyes seemed to burn into Harry.

"A truthful answer, if you please."

"Umm. . .a bit better, but not excellent, sir."

Harry had decided that since he had no idea why Snape was being so out-of- character he might as well just treat the man with the usual respect and hope he got out alive.

"Are you ready to talk about the Muggles?"

Harry shuddered.

"I don't know if I'm ready to even think about it, sir."

Snape rubbed his nose.

"You have to start thinking about it sometime, because it will never go away. Even if you try to forget it ever happened, you will remember. Usually at. . .the most inconvenient time."

Harry was silent and Snape took the moment to reflect on what his words had been referring to.

He had been spying for the Light for several months when he had discovered that a huge attack was to be made on Hogsmeade. He informed Dumbledore and the Ministry of Magic immediately and a selection of wizards was allotted the task of intercepting and stunning the Death Eaters. Snape had to join the Death Eaters, pretending nothing was wrong. But then Voldemort changed the time of attack to half an hour earlier. Several wizards were killed and many houses burnt to the ground. And then Richardson, a junior Death Eater, had seen Snape rescue a child. He had gone to raise the alarm, and Snape had killed him. Snape's disguise remained intact, but as soon as he got to Hogwarts that evening he started sobbing uncontrollably, the memory too much to bear. The memory of killing innocent people. How he had been as a Death Eater.

That night he had been inconsolable. In the end, Dumbledore had had to restrain him so he didn't jump off the Astronomy Tower, while Pomfrey had forced some sort of potion down his throat, and then everything had gone black.

He supposed Harry must feel a little bit the same. Except that Harry was not to blame for his misfortunes. He had never made any decisions for himself, because he had never had the opportunity.

That was why Snape had loathed Harry; and why he now understood the boy.

Harry was still silent, looking at Snape thoughtfully.

"Sir. . .why am I staying here? I mean, I'm very grateful, but I can't quite imagine any of the Professors being too happy about it."

"You were close to dead when I found you. My medical skills far exceed Pomfrey's, but I lack the bedside manner, therefore I turned to potions instead. It has been decided that you should stay with me so that I can give you the correct medical attention."

Snape wondered if the look on the boy's face was disappointment. It looked like that, but why on earth would he be disappointed? Furious, nauseated maybe, confused; but disappointed?

"Oh, ok sir. Thank you."

Yes, definitely disappointment. By why, in Merlin's name? Harry had turned away from Snape, his breathing evening out. Snape suddenly realised that Harry hadn't eaten anything since he had been found.

He gently shook Harry's shoulder.

"Harry, you need to eat something."

"Wunaleep"

"No, you need to eat. You can sleep afterwards."

"I'm not hungry, thank you, sir."

"I am not accustomed to repeating myself. You need to eat. Want is immaterial."

"No, sir, I couldn't. But thank you anyway."

Snape frowned; this was odd. The boy must be starving. Maybe he would be hungry if he ate something.

He summoned food from the kitchens. Bread and thin soup with a cup of water. He blinked and the food was gone! There were crumbs around Harry's mouth. A house elf appeared with more food, and Harry practically inhaled that as well. Snape tried to stop himself smiling but failed.

After Harry had sipped at the water, he asked to go to the bathroom. Snape, showing unusual thoughtfulness, transfigured a chair into a walking stick, to give the boy better support. He pottered around in his study, only going back in ten minutes to check that Harry was ok. The boy was asleep on the bed. It was fairly hard, but Snape supposed that it was luxurious compared to what he had to sleep on with his muggle relatives.

*********************************

The next few days continued in the same pattern. In those few days, Snape started to stop worrying about Harry a bit. Then one day he saw a drop of blood on the basin. Another day, a semi-transfigured something. It was turning back, and all Snape could make out was a wood and gold handle, about half the length of a wand. He also noticed how red Harry's knuckles were, and how he always ate so much food but never seemed to put on weight, even though his only exercise was going to the bathroom.

It was very strange.

*************************************

Dream Cedric's body shimmered before Harry, looking accusingly at him.

"Why didn't you get in the way of the curse? It doesn't work on you. You could have saved me, but you're too selfish. You just wanted to take all the glory for the Tri-Wizard tournament. Why the hell didn't you guess that Voldemort would be there?"

"Oh Cedric, I'm so sorry. . .I didn't know. . .I took your body back. . ."

"You didn't bother getting my body", said his father bitterly, looking down at him, "Or Lily's. You shouldn't have lived. It's a shame to look down on you. You bring disgrace even to Lily's family!"

"But. . .dad. . .mum. . ."

"Don't call me that! I don't want to be any mother of yours! I had to die for you. How can you ever justify that?"

"You are no son of ours. Our son would have defeated Voldemort by now. He would be strong and brave. . ."

"No. . .no! Please, don't leave me!"

end dream

Harry woke abruptly. He had conditioned himself not to cry, but his shoulders were shaking. He had to. . .had to feel alive. . .wanted it all to go away. . .

He gulped down some food, and hobbled to the bathroom. He quickly transfigured a razor into a knife and dug it into his skin, revelling in the feeling of blood running down his arm. Not enough to be dangerous. . .just enough to hurt like hell. And then he made himself throw up. . .like he was vomiting all the evil out of him, all his nightmares. . .that was all it was. . .and then the room started to spin, and he had to lean against the wall, but the wall was warm and soft - he sprung away and stumbled, and then Severus Snape appeared before him, looked both shocked and horrified.

"Harry. . .what. . .why?"

Harry hung his head. He heard the footsteps come closer and flinched at the thought of another beating, before he realised that he was safe.

A slender white finger tilted his chin up, and he was forced to look into Snape's eyes. The older wizard silently lead him to the basin and helped him to wash his face. When that was done, he kept his arm around Harry, virtually carrying him back to the bedroom. He gently laid Harry down and tucked the sheet around him. Harry didn't fight the sleep, and the last thing he remembered was a whispered 'massus', and 5st 0lbs flashing in front of his tired eyes.

*******************************

Had Snape been at breakfast the next morning, he would have seen a barn owl swoop in carrying a letter for Draco Malfoy. Draco opened it, curiously. He didn't get much post any more. As soon as he pulled open the envelope, thick yellow liquid splashed on his hands. Several Slytherins sniggered as he gasped and stood up. The letter, which had been untouched by the pus, simply read, 'Traitor'.

With a groan, Draco quickly went up to the Infirmary.

****************************

When Harry woke up after yet another nightmare, his first instinct was to run and cut himself. However when he tried to stand, someone was pinning him down. He froze for a few seconds before realising it couldn't be Vernon, and then tried to get free. Whoever it was (he didn't have his glasses on) held him firmly but gently. When he relaxed back into the pillows he saw, to his horror, Snape, and he remembered exactly what had happened earlier.

Snape looked at him sympathetically.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"What?"

"The nightmare."

Harry winced and sighed.

"Cedric."

"Diggory?"

"Yeah. He said it was my fault. That I should have saved him and let the Killing Curse hit me, because I might have been able to survive it. My parents. . .as well. . .they said that I should have saved them. She. . .died for me. I should have died instead. It should have been me."

Harry was vaguely aware that he had bitten through his lip trying not to cry, and the tang of blood was in his mouth. But the tears wouldn't go away, they were welling up in his eyes, and he suddenly wanted to scream with the unfairness of it all. He tried to turn away, but Snape was still pinning him down, and he couldn't stop a single tear rolling down his face.

Snape gently gathered the skeletal boy into his arms and held him close, not knowing what else to do. Harry tensed for a moment, and relaxed. Snape was so. . .black, and soft. He smelt of herbs and smoke. A huge sob wracked Harry's body and Snape began to rub his back gently, letting Harry cry all he needed to.

Finally, Harry stopped crying, and immediately fell asleep, exhausted.

It was only then that Snape realised there were tears running down his own face as well.