Author's Notes: Gomen! Sorry it took me so long!

Here's my explanation:

Weekdays = school = loads of homework = less time to write!

And I just completed my biology test yesterday, and had to stay back in school…so I got home at eight yesterday and at nine today…*sigh*…I have /such/ a sad life. I just feel like plonking down on my bed. Anyway, I'm sorry again for the terribly late update! Enjoy…

A Fallen Angel

By chibi_tenshi

With much fuss and not a few pouts, Pomfrey finally relented and let Harry out of the hospital wing. So, after Pomfrey's routine morning examinations, Harry was walking out of the infirmary, at long last, supported by a pair of clutches under his arms because his legs were numb from long term disuse and the muscles were not working as well as they used to be.

Surprisingly, Snape had not taunted him about his current predicament, nor had he spoken any words of pity. He merely stood by his side, a comforting presence, offering the silent support and wordless understanding that Harry had so carved.

When they had finally arrived at Snape's…/their/ living quarters, Snape steered him towards his room. It was decorated with a red and gold theme, designed to make it look, and feel, warm and comfy. The walls were painted in a bright scarlet, with indistinct streaks of soft pink and orange at strategic locations to make it look like the sky during sunrise. Golden-yellow curtains framed the window that stretched from floor to ceiling, and was charmed to overlook the Quidditch pitch, and the Forbidden Forest further beyond.

His bed was situated right beside the door. It was a queen-sized four-poster made of deep brown cherrywood, with an elaborate carving of a majestic griffin at the head. Harry could have sworn that the griffin winked at him when he turned to admire it. The bed was also adorned by bright red curtains, held up by golden drawstrings, and a soft velvet bedspread and a snug looking quilt, both of a lighter shade of red, were tucked in the sides of a mattress, which seemed rather soft and springy.

There was a wardrobe, a study table and a bookshelf located opposite the bed, at the far side of the room. They were made of the same cherrywood as the bed, with an added varnish that made them glitter a little in the sunlight, and were decorated with the same intricate carvings of various mythical creatures. (He was certain now the those carvings were somehow alive…)

This was the best room Harry had ever seen. The symbolism of freedom and the Gryffindor theme was not lost on him. Turning back to Snape, he breathed out a heartfelt "Thank you…", eyes wide and his lips uplifting into a shy smile, for he knew the lengths Snape had went through to install the windows in the dungeons, and that he really did not need to allow the red and gold décor in his otherwise Slytherinistic lair.

His gratitude was rewarded by a small, almost unnoticeable upturn at the side of Snape's lips, and a barely audible "you are welcome" before he was left to his own devices.

***

Harry settled on the bed (it was as soft and springy as it looked) after Snape had left, thinking over what had happened in the past few days.

Sirius and Professor Lupin ("call me Remus") had come to visit a week ago. He knew they made an effort not to remind him of the plight he was in. He could almost see them treading carefully across a tight rope when speaking to him, as if he was a fragile glass sculpture that they were afraid to break. Oh, they were subtle about it, but Harry was a master of human gestures and emotions. He could sense the tension radiating from the duo. He had seen Remus nudge Sirius in the ribs whenever he let even a hint of his worry show.

He appreciated what they were doing, but he really hated it when people treated him as if he would shatter at the slightest provocation. He was /not/ weak!

'Oh aren't you?' the small voice piped up at the back of his mind again. 'You let the Dursleys hit you, did you not? And you did not try to stop them, no?'

He shoved that pestering thing back into the darkest crevice he could find. He was /not/ weak! And he had showed them too! He made sure he laughed along with them at their jokes. He had listened, talked, smiled…he /interacted/ with them, though he had felt like holing up somewhere cold, dark and isolated where no one would ever find him. Not that he wasn't happy to see them though

The atmosphere in the infirmary gradually eased, and Sirius and Remus had left with slight smiles on their faces. He was exhausted when all that was over, and he could not curb the feeling of disappointment when he was left alone once more, despite his initial misgivings. He did not like being treated like a frail china doll, but he really loved them and they were all he had…

Which was why he was startled when Snape spoke up. He had forgotten that he was there. He had comforted him…it was then when Harry realized that Snape cared too…but he had been too tired to think much about it.

Now though, he had to put more thought into that…

To say that he was surprised when Snape told him about his new living arrangements was a major understatement. It had taken all of his control not to let his jaw sag in shock. He was rather proud that Snape had not noticed much of his astonishment.

He had always thought that Snape was a private person, who detested anyone that disrupted his neat and ordered lifestyle. He had imagined that Snape /liked/ living alone, in the quiet solitude with no one to interrupt his precious potions work. He had wondered if he was here because Dumbledore had somehow coerced Snape to take him in. It made him feel terribly guilty to think that he may be intruding in Snape's hard-earned and well-deserved summer break…

Still, the man would not have spent so much effort in decorating his rooms if he just saw him as a burden, would he? Or perhaps, Dumbledore was the one that took charge of the design?

Harry could feel the guilt and self-doubt plaguing him again. 'You are really just a good-for-nothing leech that brought trouble to others you know? You would be better off at the Dursleys. At least they made it known that you deserved every bit of abuse you got. It's entirely your fault that Cedric died after all. And you caused the death of so many others. You do not deserve to receive any sort of kindness,' the tiny voice returned with a vengeance.

Harry curled himself up into a ball again and started rocking back and froth.

'You deserve it…and you know it…'

***

TBC

(1094 words)

A/N *weeps* Poor Harry!!!

I know this is short…but it felt like it should end here…but, fear not! *grins* The next chapter is much longer…I suspect it may end up to be twice the length of this one *shrugs*…I have to finish typing it out first…

Dyan – It was partially from my imagination. I've added bits and pieces from other fics, and what I wanted to see in other fics, but couldn't find. There are lots of Harry abuse fics out there…and I love them…the hurt-comfort ones I mean…I can't stand those with horribly sad endings – like Harry dying or something without knowing anyone cared…(no offense to any authors out there!) You can tell by now that I am a sucker for happy endings don't you? *laughs*

Erika – You are the most enthusiastic reader I've had yet! *grins*

Thank you to all those who reviewed!!! *hugs and blows kisses at reviewers*

As for those who didn't…*waves…something…threateningly* REVIEW now!!!