Minerva entered Hogwarts with a worried frown. Poppy had come with her help her with confronting Albus. They found him still in his office.

"I do not wish to be disturbed with complaints that I have to go and look for the brat again," he warned them without looking up.

"No, Albus," Minerva said, "We are here to tell you that you are temporarily released from your duties. ALL your duties."

He looked up at her. "Don't be ridiculous," he merely said before reaching for his quill.

"I'm sorry, Albus, but you have crossed way too many lines," Poppy said, "We know you are ill, but this can't go on. I'm sorry. Stupify."

As the stunner hit the old man, he slumped in his chair. They quickly levitated him to prevent him pitching face first to the floor.

"His own rooms," Poppy said, "Let's get him into bed for now. The stunner will wear off soon enough, it was only mild, but his body will probably shut down now that it is finally not working. He'll probably sleep for a long time."

Together they got the sick headmaster to his rooms and in his bed.

"Now what do we do?" Minerva asked.

"He needs to talk to a professional," Poppy said.

"I'll do that," they heard a voice.

Behind them was the Grey Lady.

"I'll help him," she said softly.

"But you are…" Minerva started.

"The nearest thing he has to peers," she interrupted, "And I am well qualified. Psychology was my specialty in life, and being dead didn't stop me from keeping up with my reading. That I'm a ghost isn't necessarily a problem. I am a neutral party. Everyone else has such high expectations of him. You need him to do all sorts of things. I am already dead. What he does or does not do can't cause me any harm."

Poppy, who had remained silent, now nodded and spoke up.

"I agree, Lady," she said, "But if he attempts to escape, you could not stop him."

"House elves can," she said, "Give me control over one or two, and do not disturb us unless I call for you. He'll need nutrient potions and a few dreamless sleep. Probably calming draught, too. If you would put them on one shelf of your office so a house elf can easily find them if they're needed."

Satisfied that Albus would be well cared for, the two witches returned to the office.

"I have to go," Poppy said, "I'm making med kits for all searchers, and then I'm meeting up with my team to plan our search. The sooner we find him, the better."

Minerva nodded, her face lined with worry.

"Bring him home soon, please," she said tiredly.

York.

Harry stared at the boy.

"How…you were at Hogwarts," he asked tentatively.

"Yes, sir," Severus said, playing with the bread.

"Do you…what happened?" Harry said, running a hand through his hair.

"I…I got dumped in the forest by Death Eaters, the men in the black robes," he clarified. Harry nodded for him to go on.

"A centaur found me and brought me to Hogwarts. The headmaster…the headmaster…he was…very mean…and scary…and…and he wanted to hurt me…I ran away yesterday."

"Do you remember anything from before you were dropped in the forest?" Harry asked carefully.

"Waking up somewhere strange. I was dreaming…but it wasn't a normal dream. It was about a man that looked like a snake. With red eyes. He threw a hex at me," the child shivered.

"Then I woke up, and they took me to the forest."

Harry didn't need much more information to deduct that Voldemort must've found out that Snape was a spy, and had punished him by turning him into a six year old. The headmaster had apparently mistreated the child enough to make him run away.

Snape. The greasy git was at his mercy. He could make him pay for all the years of humiliation…

Anger flashed across Harry's face before he blushed and was thoroughly ashamed of himself. Snape was no longer Snape, but a frightened six year old. A six year old in grave danger he didn't understand and with nowhere to go.

He looked at the child again, and saw he had curled up in fright and a tear ran down his face.

Severus had watched the Harry person as he told him what had happened and saw the anger flash across his face. That man was mad at him too! What had he done? Why didn't he remember what he had done to make everyone so angry with him?

He shrunk in his chair and stared at the table, trying not to cry after a very exhausting and very trying couple of days.

A single tear leaked out and he quickly wiped at it.

"Severus," Harry said kindly, "Severus, come on. You still have to tell me what you would like to eat."

"You're mad at me," Severus stated, his voice shaking a bit, "Everyone is mad at me and I don't know why. I don't want to go back to Hogwarts, and I don't..don't want to go to my parents…" he whispered.

Oh, Harry was going to be so angry now. He quickly stuffed the piece of bread in his pocket, butter and all.

Then he heard the Harry person sigh and he looked up.

"I'm not angry with you, Severus," Harry said.

"Sure," Severus thought, "That's why you looked so angry."

"I'm going to tell you a secret," Harry continued.

A secret? Uh oh. Secrets were never good. Every time Mother told him a secret, he somehow ended up brewing nasty potions or being beaten.

"I ran away too."

WHAT! Harry ran away? But…but he had money, and was nearly grown up! But if he did ran away he wasn't likely to bring Severus to the police, was he? Or the Aurors.

He looked up and listened intently to the man.

"I ran away from my aunt and uncle's house, but unlike you, I have somewhere to go. I think that I know what happened to you, too, it's not that difficult to guess," Harry seemed to mumble the last bit to himself.

He wanted to know what happened so much! Harry said he could guess, and he hadn't even been there, why had no one told him what happened to him? Was anything supposed to have happened to him, anyway? Oh wait…the spells in the hospital room.

"Am…am I sick?" he asked.

Harry shook his head. "No, not really. Look, this place is full of Muggles so it's pretty hard to explain. You know what?"

"What?"

"How about you come with me? I'm going to visit a house I own here tomorrow, and I have some other places where we can go so no one can find us."

It would be nice not to be alone. Harry had been nice.

"Do you hate me? Are you going to make me do horrible things?"

Harry snorted.

"If I planned to make you do horrible things, I wouldn't have insisted you bring back the fruit and apologise, would I?"

That made sense, Severus thought. If Harry planned to do the horrible things his parents made him do, then a stolen piece of fruit wouldn't have mattered to him.

"I'll come with you," he said softly.

Not that there was much choice. He could stay on his own, which would either get him killed or caught and brought back, or go with Harry.

"Good," Harry smiled, "then let's have dinner now, and then we'll go find a place to sleep."

Mother and Father didn't really give him much to eat. And he couldn't eat much anyway because of the potion. But the names on the menu were not familiar. Maybe Harry could help him?

"What is it, Sna…Severus?"

"I…when I was little…more then now, my Father made me drink one of Mother's potions, and now I have to throw up and have a bad tummy ache if I eat something with a lot of fat in it," he said softly, "And I don't know if there's anything here I can eat."

Harry muffled a curse. Oh no…

"Severus, I'm not mad at you, but at your father for doing that to you," Harry explained.

How did Harry know he thought he was mad at him?

"I'll order something for you, ok?"

The waiter came by, and Harry ordered steak for himself, and grilled chicken for Severus.

When the food came, Harry turned to the waiter.

"We need to find a place to stay for tonight," Harry said, "Do you have free rooms?"

"Yes, but we only have one two person room left. Is that ok? If you insist on separate rooms…"

"No, that will be fine," Harry said, "My brother is tired. I'd rather not run all over town if you have a perfectly good room available."

The waiter and Harry talked a bit more about fees or something, but honestly, that was boring and the chicken smelled wonderful.

He took a careful bite. This was so good. His stomach growled with happiness at the prospect of food, and when he saw Harry smile and nod at him, he dove into the food.

Harry took him up to the room after dinner. It was big, with two beds and a table, and a fireplace with two nice chairs.

"Come here for a second," Harry said.

He walked over to the older boy. Harry said he was sixteen, so he wasn't a man yet. Harry pulled him to sit in the other chair.

"Was there anyone else at Hogwarts, Severus? Madam Pomphrey? Professor McGonagall?"

He nodded. The stern-but-nice witch.

"We need to go somewhere safe as soon as possible," Harry said.

Harry didn't talk to him like he was an idiot, he liked that. Harry told him things, and didn't yell at him that he was too little to understand.

"Tomorrow we are going to check out the house, but it is a Muggle house so there won't be any wards, I think."

Wasn't that dangerous? Mother was always going on and on about the wards. Was Harry afraid too?

"After we check the house, we will go and buy ourselves some decent clothes. And then we'll portkey to the Bungalow. From what Griphook told me, that would be safest. Even if they can trace the portkey, they won't get through the wards. I already sent my owl there."

"You have an owl?"

"Yes, but carrying her all through the Muggle world wasn't practical, so once I decided what I was going to do I told her to go to the Bungalow."

"You have more then one house?"

"Three. Four, counting Grimmauld Place."

"Oh. Mother and Father only have our house at Spinner's End."

"Severus…"

Harry looked very serious now. What was going on?

"Severus…What I'm going to tell you will sound really weird, ok?"

Well, weird seemed to happen a lot lately.

"You see…The man you dreamed about, with the red eyes? That wasn't a dream. That was real."

"Did he hurt me?"

"It must have hurt. But what he did was turn you into a six year old."

"But I AM six years old."

"You WERE six years old, Severus. When were you born?"

"January 9th, 1960."

"Look at the newspaper on the table. It's from this morning."

"July 18th….1996…I'm…36?"

"Until that man in your dream, Voldemort, turned you into a six year old."

"But…why? And why didn't anyone tell me?"

"The headmaster doesn't believe in giving people information they need," Harry said, but his voice sounded strange, angry, like the headmaster had done that to him too.

"And I don't know exactly why Voldemort did this. Hoping perhaps, that you will come back to him, no doubt…"

Why would he go back to that maniac? If he was 36, what good would turning him into a 6 year old do? It made no sense!

"Why?" was all he could get out.

"Severus, what I'm going to tell you is very secret, ok? You can't tell anyone."

"Promise."

"When you were younger, about 18, you did join Voldemort. But you were really sorry about it very soon, and you went to Headmaster Dumbledore to tell him that. That's when you decided that you would become a spy. You stayed with Voldemort and the Death Eaters, but you didn't really belong to him anymore. And when you heard something important, you told Headmaster Dumbledore, so he could make sure no one was going to get hurt."

"Oh. Wasn't I punished for joining Voldemort?"

"Spying is very dangerous, Severus. Because you were really sorry, and willing to help, you weren't punished. Not by the Ministry, anyway. Voldemort is not known for his kindness to his servants."

"Do you mean, he hurt me before he knew I was a spy, too?"

"Yes, like he does all other Death Eaters. I saw it a few times."

"Are…are YOU a Death Eater?"

"Absolutely not! Voldemort and I are worst enemies, but he is older and stronger then me, so I have to train before I can really defeat him."

That sounded logical.

"Anyway…when you were 20, Voldemort was defeated for the first time, but he didn't die. For fourteen years he was gone, though. When you began spying, the headmaster told you to come live at Hogwarts and teach Potions, and that's what you still do."

"But I HATE Potions!"

He wasn't teaching Potions, was he? It had to be a joke. He would never do the same things Mother did to him.

"But you're very good at them," Harry said, "And you brew a lot of healing potions and other potions that Madam Pomphrey needs to make people better. She always says how lucky she is that you do that for her."

Harry's voice was becoming so distant…the flames were becoming blurry…

Harry stopped talking and smiled when he saw that the boy had fallen asleep in the chair.

"Merlin, Harry. Snape as a six year old. Why does this stuff always happen to me? To him?"

He carried the child to one of the beds and carefully undressed him.

He found himself fussing over the boy, tucking him in and pushing stray strands of dark hair from the small face.

"Get a grip, Harry," he mumbled, but still made sure the child wouldn't be cold.

"Just a kid," he whispered, remembering with shame his earlier thoughts of revenge, "A very abused kid." He sighed and shook his head.

"We're not so different after all, you and I," he murmured, stroking the dark hair before turning around to do some quiet reading before bed.