-Burrow-

"Hey Dad."

Ron Weasley entered, tired and frustrated, followed by Hermione.

"Dad, what's wrong?" he asked in alarm. His father was pale and shaky.

Arthur looked up. "Hi kids. I'm sorry, I was just finishing reading Severus' diary. Any news?"

"Well, we've all had some time to think about what that huge cousin of Harry said, and after talking to Remus we decided it would be best to try and owl him. Just to ask him to let us know he's ok. Remus is writing it. How's the Headmaster?"

"The Grey Lady says he is in bad shape. He isn't owning up to his mistakes yet, and sleeps most of the time. But then again, he has admitted to her that he has worked over 22 hours a day these past years. It's a miracle he has any brains left. I just…it's hard to imagine that he would deliberately hurt Severus. He has always been very fond of him."

Hermione shrugged a bit. "My father has an interest in psychology. A friend of his is a professor at a university in America and he goes there every summer to take a few courses. Says it helps him with his more terrified patients. Anyway, when I told him the Headmaster was having a nervous breakdown he gave me some of his books to read."

Ron snorted. Hermione smacked him upside the head.

"Shut up, Ronald. I read something about trigger events. Something that happens that is the straw that breaks the camel's back, so to speak. Professor Snape's being found out. Losing his spy. The headmaster probably deliberately mistreated professor Snape…"

She held up her hand to stop the protests.

"Now, when I say deliberately, I use the term loosely. In his normal state of mind, he would never hurt professor Snape. Everyone knows that. So to get someone to notice that he couldn't go on anymore, he had to do something so out of character that people couldn't explain it away. Mind you, he didn't consciously plan it, it just happened. He had already tried with Harry. Sending him back to the Dursleys, I mean, this summer. But no one stopped him, like he probably more then half hoped they would."

Arthur stared at Hermione. "I…don't really get it," he admitted, "so it was deliberate, but not really deliberate?"

Hermione nodded. "I feel sorry for him," she added sadly, "once he recovers, he will be horrified at what he has done. Does professor Snape's diary help any, Mr Weasley?"

"Arthur, Hermione. Arthur and Molly. We told you that before. The diary is helpful in that it shows how clever Severus really is. And there are signs, in the last few entries, that he, at least, recognized a bit of what was going on with Dumbledore, and tried to help as much as he could."

Ron frowned. "So when Snape was kiddified, Dumbledore lost not only his spy but also a lot of support?"

Arthur nodded. "Harry and Severus are more alike then you would think," he said, looking pointily at Hermione. Her eyes widened slightly.

"I am not at liberty to say more. It's Severus' diary after all. But I would appreciate it, if we find…when we find him, that you will be kind to Severus."

-Bungalow-

Harry sighed and wiped his face with his dirty hand. Then he looked around in contentment. The house was bare, but finally clean enough for human habitation.

Severus was outside, cleaning the rugs by levitating two and making them fly into each other repeatedly. He obviously was having fun.

Harry smiled. Fun. They needed to have lots more of it. Both of them woke from nightmares repeatedly during the night, though it was getting better; especially with Severus. Not being abused and forced into practicing the Dark Arts improved his mood greatly.

Severus giggled softly to himself as the rugs bashed into each other for the tenth time, clouds of dust flying in all directions. It was funny. He was glad Harry let him do stuff like this.

They had worked, but the work was fun. He could use magic as much as he liked, and he didn't have to do anything nasty. Harry let him fly on his broom every day. He said that Severus was too young to work all day and needed play.

When he had pointed out that he was really twenty years older then Harry, Harry had just snorted and pushed him out the door, handing him the broom.

Why was the old wizard at Hogwarts so mad at him? Why hadn't HE played with him? Harry didn't seem to like the old wizard much either. Mother and Father hadn't liked him either, but that was actually a point in the old man's favor, he contemplated, smirking a bit.

-Later-

"Harry?"

Harry looked up from his reading. He usually didn't send Severus to bed; the boy would get tired and go to sleep at around 8 each night.

He looked at the clock. Nearly 1 am.

"What is it, Sevvy?"

The little boy looked adorable in his green and silver pyjamas, the pants a little too long, covering the top of the small feet and rubbing his fists in his eyes.

"I had a really scary dream," Severus said, walking over to Harry.

Harry frowned. Severus, like himself, was prone to nightmares, but the boy didn't usually come to him. He had gone up to Severus' room a few times since they arrived here to soothe him through a nightmare, but never before had the boy come to him voluntarily.

Did he do something wrong? Severus wondered. Harry was frowning. He had tried to go back to sleep, really, he had, but the dream was just too scary. Maybe Harry thought he was being stupid. Maybe he would send him away…

"Come," Harry said, patting the couch next to him, "I think you can use some nice hot milk with honey. That always helps me when I have a nightmare."

He tucked Severus in under the quilt on the couch and went to the kitchen. Soon he returned with two mugs.

"Aren't you going to send me away now?" Severus asked, large black eyes searching Harry's face.

"Of course not. Why would I do that?"

"Because I'm stupid…"

Harry shook his head. "You are not stupid, Sevvy. You can always come to me when you have a nightmare that really scares you. You can even wake me up and I won't be mad. I have had lots of nightmares, and I always wished someone would make warm milk for me when I woke up scared, but no one did. So I want to do that for you. Deal?"

His stomach was feeling all warm, but not from the milk. It always felt warm when Harry called him 'Sevvy' even if he knew that if someone else called him that, he would have to glare and be angry. But from Harry it was ok. Harry was almost his big brother.

"Mother and Father hit me if I cried," he said softly, blowing in his milk, "they said it was weak."

"It's not. Well, if you run around blubbering all day long it may be…"

Severus giggled.

Harry laughed along with him, but then he became serious.

"When I was your age, my aunt and uncle hit me too. They didn't even give me a room of my own, but made me sleep in the cupboard under the stairs."

Severus stared at him, wide-eyed.

"Like the one we have here?" he asked. It was a fun place to play hide and seek, but he wouldn't want to LIVE in it! It had spiders, and it was really small and dark.

"Yes, like that one. I came to live with them when I was one, and they only gave me a small room when I was 11. Because that's when my Hogwarts letter came and they got scared."

Severus leaned against Harry's shoulder.

"Mother whipped my hands if I did something wrong when I made potions," he said, "she said she hates doing it, but she never explains anything. She just used the whipping spell a lot."

Harry fumed inwardly. "Well, that explains why you grew up to be such a terrible teacher," he thought, "compared to your mother, you probably are very kind and gentle."

"My aunt and uncle called me a freak and hit me because I could do magic," he said.

Severus scowled. It really was a funny sight on such a young child.

"But that's not FAIR!"

"No, it isn't. And after I came to Hogwarts, and got some very good friends, I understood that it wasn't my fault. My best friend's Mom taught me that."

"But Mother and Father said they HAD to do that to me, because I am such a horrible boy," Severus explained, "and the mean old man at the castle said it too, that it was all my fault."

Harry put his arm around the little boy. "It wasn't our fault," he repeated, "and you are not a horrible boy, no more then I was."

Again he smirked inwardly. The adult Severus would sneer in a heartbeat that Harry WAS a horrible boy.

"Tomorrow, we are going to do some shopping," he told Severus.

"Where?" the child was already getting tired.

"Diagon Alley. We are going in disguise, and have a lot of fun. Why don't you start thinking about the nice things you want to buy, so you'll dream about that, and the icecreams at Florean Fortescue's…the really cool stuff at Quality Quidditch Supplies…"

Severus yawned, and drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

-Hogwarts-

Dumbledore had been mostly asleep for over a week. He woke up once or twice a day to eat, but would generally fall asleep within half an hour.

The Grey Lady didn't push the point; the recovering process required that his physical condition had to improve first.

Finally, ten days after he was locked in his rooms, Dumbledore woke up in the mid-morning.

"Hello," the ghost smiled at him.

"Hi," Dumbledore replied, a bit disorientated.

"I feel…strange. Like waking up from a very bad dream. How long was I asleep? I remember talking to you before…"

"We talked several times before, but I admit only briefly. You've been mostly asleep these past ten days."

"TEN DAYS? How is that possible?"

"You are very overworked. In fact, you are experiencing a nervous breakdown."

Dumbledore bit his lip.

"What…what did I do?" he wondered. But then he paled.

"Severus! Is he really six years old, or did I dream that?"

"No, you didn't dream that. He is six years old. Minerva and Filius are still looking for the countercurse."

The next question was whispered so soft that had she not been a ghost, she would have missed it.

"And…I didn't dream…what I did to him either?"

She shook her head, looking in sympathy at the broken man. Tears ran down papery and gaunt cheeks, into the beard.

"My child…I hurt my boy."

The ghost said nothing, but pointed him to a box of tissues on the bedside table.

"He's gone, isn't he? He and Harry. Oh Merlin…"

"Two searchteams have been formed, one for each boy, but they are at a dead end right now."

Dumbledore wept into his hands.

"Do you think…Minerva and the others will ever speak to me again? I know a couple of things that might help in their search…"