"Harry," Severus greeted. "Come in." He gestured to the chair opposite him and reached for the tea set as the teen took a seat. "Mint tea?" Harry nodded and so Severus poured them both a cup, happy to let the silence settle.

"So," Severus began when they had both had a sip from their steaming cups. "Is there anything you would like to talk about tonight?"

Harry shrugged, shaking his head slowly. "Nope."

Severus sighed, "Well I guess I'll start then. Do you want to talk about yesterday?"

"Not particularly." The unimpressed look on Snape's face had Harry continuing. "We already talked about the attack yesterday; there's nothing else to say."

Severus scrutinized the boy's face. "We did talk about it." He nodded. "But I'm still concerned that you're not really talking through your feelings about things. Professor Weasley said that you were finding it hard to concentrate yesterday."

Harry dragged a hand through his hair shoulders slumping. "Clearly the confidentiality in the staff room is still as strong as ever." He said caustically. "Look, I'm not gonna lie, I was shaken up by the Death Eater attack. It's hard for me to not be involved in trying to capture them when all I've done for the last four years is try to bring down Voldemort and his followers." Severus allowed him the space to talk, glad that the troubled teen was finally being so open. "I feel like I need to be active, you know? Sitting back when I know shit is going on outside and people are dying just feels wrong. – And I know it's not my job and there are far better wizards than me who are handling it, but – it's just hard."

Severus was thrilled to finally get Harry talking. "Thank you for being so honest, Harry. I know it isn't easy for you to step back and let others deal with things like this, but I want you to know that I am very proud of you for your calm and rational response to the attack. It takes real maturity to know when it's time to jump in and when it's time to stand back.""

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat which had risen from hearing that the Professor was proud of him. "Thanks, Sir."

Severus took a drink before resuming the conversation. "There was something else I wanted to talk to you about."

"Okay…"

"I tried to send you a Sleeping Draught last night. It's not something you should be taking regularly as it's highly addictive but a mouthful at the end of a particularly challenging day isn't a bad idea."

"Sure." Harry agreed.

"Like I say, I tried to send you a vial via my house-elf but she wasn't able to deliver it to you."

"Oh?" Harry frowned, not sure where the Professor was going.

"She said she couldn't get in because your room is warded."

"Oh, yeah, well I guess I'm kind of wary of people I don't know or trust coming in to my room."

"Perfectly understandable." Severus accepted. "But I was surprised to hear that you have wards strong enough to keep the Hogwarts house-elves out."

Harry did his best to keep his face neutral, desperately trying to not give away the big secret of his powerful magic. "Well, I, um, had Kreacher set something up that would mean he's the only house-elf that has access to the room. He knows a lot about that kind of stuff from being the Black family house-elf for centuries."

It was plausible, Severus thought, but he wasn't buying it. "I see." He drawled and Harry knew the Professor was suspicious. "I didn't realise you'd kept Kreacher as your elf."

"Yeah, we stayed at Grimmauld Place for a bit while we were in hiding. Kreacher just needed to be treated better. He's actually a really good house-elf. He even fought against the Death Eaters in the final battle."

Severus' eyebrows rose. "Well, I'm surprised. When Tappy said that your own elf was handling the maintenance of your room, I assumed it was that elf of the Malfoys that you freed."

An inexplicably pained expression descended over Harry's face and when he spoke his voice was tight. "Dobby…Dobby died in the war."

"I'm very sorry to hear that, Harry." Severus sad sympathetically. "I know he meant a lot to you."

"He saved my life more than once." Harry said passionately. "Nearly got me killed a couple of times too." He chuckled fondly at the memory of his well-meaning little friend. "But he was so incredibly loyal, so purely good."

"What happened?" Severus asked gently.

Harry turned his face away for a prolonged moment and when, finally, he turned back to the Professor his eyes were glassy with unshed tears. "It was my fault." He whispered brokenly.

"Harry?"

"It was my fault Dobby was killed." A single tear ran down Harry's face, his chest tight with the pain of grief and guilt. "He died rescuing us from Malfoy Manor. He died for me." Harry looked down into his lap, disheveled hair hanging over his forehead.

Severus was devastated for the boy; seeing him so lost and defeated. "Harry," He began, but Potter wasn't looking up. "Harry, look at me." The Professor insisted, waiting until his student made eye contact. "Who killed Dobby, Harry?"

"Bellatrix." Harry's voice cracked as he spat out the name. "She threw a knife at him." He looked up at the Professor in pain and disbelief. "He was entirely innocent, so genuinely good. How could anyone do that?"

"Bellatrix lost her humanity a long time ago." Severus responded. "If she ever had any."

Harry's head had dropped again, tears dripping from his eyelashes and falling, forgotten, into his lap. He spoke quietly to himself. "It was all my fault. He wouldn't have been there if it wasn't for me."

Harry was so absorbed in his own grief that he didn't notice Severus had moved to kneel in front of him until the Professor placed his hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Harry, you have just told me that Bellatrix killed Dobby. So how on Earth could it be your fault?"

"Because he wouldn't have been there if it wasn't for me!" Harry repeated emphatically.

"Harry, Dobby chose to be a part of the war; he chose to save you. He died because there was a war going on, and because Bellatrix was a murdering psychopath." The Professor squeezed the boy's shoulder. "You are not responsible for other people's choices, Harry. It was not your fault." Harry looked up, his expression grief stricken. "It was not your fault."

Harry nodded, his heart beginning to accept the Professor's words.

"Who killed Dobby, Harry?" The Professor asked again. He saw Harry's lips stuttering out an inaudible reply. "Who, Harry? Who killed Dobby?"

"B – Bellatrix."

"Whose fault was Dobby's death?"

"Bellatrix." Harry answered with more surety.

"That's right, Harry, that's right. It wasn't your fault. None of it was your fault."

While Harry took time to process, Severus poured him another cup of tea, this time laced with calming draught, and placed it into the young man's hands. "Drink." He instructed.

Severus gave him as much time as he needed, only breaking the silence with a few more orders to drink the tea in front of him. Finally, Harry had calmed and looked up at the Professor. "When does it stop hurting? I just feel sad all the time."

"It won't ever stop being sad. But it does get easier, Harry, I promise. It will get easier."

It was a Teddy weekend and after a stressful week Harry was glad to be getting out of the castle. He was also desperate to see his godson again, the Death Eater attacks having made him anxious to confirm Teddy's safety. Despite this, Harry couldn't help but think of what happened on his last trip away from the castle and he worried for his friends while he was away.

Andromeda welcomed Harry warmly as always, offering him tea and checking on his well-being. Not for the first time, Harry was touched by the woman's genuine care for him but his mind couldn't be at ease until he saw his baby godson.

"He's mid-nap at the moment, but I'm sure he'll rouse soon. Teddy always seems to sense your presence, dear." Andromeda said with a fond smile after Harry enquired.

Harry nodded, smiling close-lipped back. "How's he doing?"

"Oh, he's dandy." Andromeda said warmly. "He's been sporting pink hair this week." The witch chuckled and Harry grinned at the thought.

"Do you need anything?"

"No Harry, we don't need anything." Andromeda sighed. "You're going to ask every time though aren't you?"

Harry's lips turned up on one side. "Probably, yeah." He shrugged.

A noise from the nursery upstairs signaled that Teddy had awoken. "I'll go." Harry offered quickly, standing up before Andromeda had even had time to nod her agreement.

In the nursery, Teddy laid on his back in the crib, whining softly with a disgruntled expression. The soft frown in his features disappeared immediately however, when Harry's face came into view above him. Harry chuckled as the baby giggled and gurgled at him, reaching up small baby fists in a grabbing motion until Harry picked him up.

Harry carried him straight over to the changing table, now familiar with this routine and making use of some handy spells Andromeda had taught him to make the process a little easier.

Teddy clapped his hand once he was clean and dry again and giggled when Harry tickled his toes. Finding a clean baby grow and a pair of leggings with little snitches on them, Harry wriggled his adorable Godson into the fresh clothes, pretending that he wasn't casting a critical eye over the baby boy's general well-being as he did so.

Satisfied that all was as it should be, Harry lifted Teddy off the mat and into his arms. The baby squealed in delight and his previously pink hair morphed into the same mop of black hair that adorned Harry's own head.

Andromeda laughed when she saw the pair of them. "You've got your own 'mini-me' there."

Harry grinned. "He just has good taste." He joked.

Andromeda rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Come on, let's have lunch and then we can take our baby with questionable taste to the park."

They went to a large muggle park with plenty of grass for Teddy to crawl around on. After a gentle stroll around the pond, with Teddy happily clapping his hands at passing ducks from his spot in the pram, Harry insisted on buying them all an ice cream. They sat on a discreetly conjured blanket, enjoying their ice creams in the autumn sun, while Teddy smeared his ice cream around his face, hands, clothes and anything else he could reach.

"Harry," Andromeda broke the comfortable silence that had fallen with a cautious expression. Harry looked up at the kind woman who he respected great deal and sensed the seriousness of her tone. "Have I done something?" Andromeda continued bravely, noting Harry's bewildered expression. "Is there a reason you worry about me looking after Teddy?"

Harry's mouth fell open. "I – I –" He couldn't deny it.

Andromeda watched Harry look into his lap where his hands were wringing nervously together. She could see him looking for the words he needed and waited patiently.

"I don't – " he began but broke off again. "I know you were a great mum." He started instead. "Tonks talked about you and her dad all the time. She said you were both fantastic when she was growing up. And she and Remus wouldn't have named you as guardians in their will if they didn't know you would be just as great with Teddy."

Andromeda's eyes welled slightly to hear of the things her daughter said about her but smiled softly as she waited for Harry to go on.

"I don't worry about you looking after Teddy; I know you're doing a great job and he's obviously really happy. I just worry about him in general, y'know? It's the same with my friends." He admitted quietly. "I have to check they're safe."

Andromeda nodded and patted Harry's hand, squeezing gentle in reassurance. "I understand, Harry. You're welcome whenever you like. Teddy is very fortunate to have a Godfather like you to look out for him."

As if sensing that they were talking of him, Teddy smacked his sticky hands together happily and then crawled over to Harry, situating himself purposely into his Godfather's lap.

Harry looked down fondly at the infant in his arms, ignoring the stinging behind his eyes which had started after Andromeda's kind-hearted words.

Later that day, having left Andromeda and Teddy, Harry was pacing restlessly around Grimmauld Place.

Andromeda's enquiry had cut close to the mark, and though Harry had spoken honestly, he had not told the whole truth of what caused his intense need to check on his godson. How could he explain that his biggest fear was that Teddy would have an upbringing like his own? That he would grow up, uncared for, unloved and never knowing anything of his parents. Their experiences so far mirrored each other too closely; boys whose loving parents were killed in a war and who were then left to the guardianship of a living relative. The thought of Teddy suffering what he had suffered made Harry feel sick to his stomach. And so, even though he thought Andromeda a wonderful guardian and suspected her of nothing, he still had to check, still had to reassure himself of his Godson's happiness and well-being. And of course, Harry loved Teddy; loved him in a way that Harry didn't even know was possible.

Having already attempted to dispense of his agitation by exerting himself spell-casting in the attic, Harry now had nothing left to do but pace, his thoughts whirring uncomfortably around his head.

'I need a drink,' he decided with sudden clarity. There was firewhiskey in the cabinet, Harry knew, but he didn't think he wanted to drink alone. He needed distraction and noise to drown out the worry. He grabbed a muggle jacket and headed out the front door determinedly, apparating away from the front step with a pop.

He moved from bars to clubs, drinking rum and coke and then just straight whiskeys until his senses began to numb. It was well past midnight when Harry stumbled into his last club of the night, vaguely recognizing it as one he had visited with Ron and Hermione over the summer.

As he stood at a raised table to the side of the club a few girls approached him looking for a dance or a snog. He made his disinterest clear, suddenly wishing that Ginny was here with him. He wanted to share experiences with her, hold her, find comfort in her presence.

The vast oval dance floor, sunken down beneath ground floor level, was rammed with people. Usually Harry hated the claustrophobia of these places, but today he craved the close contact with other bodies and he pushed his way into the centre of the crowd.

The music was loud and thumping, allowing Harry to forget everything else in favour of focusing on the pounding bass. He could feel the beat thrumming in his veins, pulsing under his skin. The alcohol in his bloodstream made Harry's head feel foggy and his thoughts cloudy. He chose to empty his head of conscious thought and focus solely on the music, allowing his body to move instinctually. Nothing else existed to him in that moment, not Death Eaters or Dursleys or memories and grief. There was only the music in his ears, the floor beneath his feet and the anonymous bodies that surrounded him.