Thank you to the beta of this chapter- Born-of-Elven-Blood

Chapter Four - Everything doesn't Have a Reason

Harry woke up with a jolt to find himself in a warm, soft bed. The room he was in was a light cream colour with matching curtains, sparsely furnished with just a basic bed and nightstand. Bookshelves lined the walls as though the room was meant to be more a library than a bedroom. Most of the books appeared to be about Potions or the Dark Arts. An old patch quilt lay neatly folded at the end of the bed.

As all the memories came back to him, Harry pulled off his glasses and pressed his palms into his eyes, trying to stop the tears that threatened to fall. He drew in a shaky breath before sitting up, taking the quilt and wrapping it around his shoulders for a little bit of comfort. He replaced his glasses before standing up and making his way to the door, opening it slowly in an effort to make as little nose as possible.

He took another shaky breath when he heard voices coming from down the hall.

"I'm not doing it, Albus!" Snape said angrily. "The boy's mind is not stable enough for me to go back in. It wouldn't be safe for either of us!"

"But the Dark Lord…"

"Wouldn't dare to enter a mind as unstable as Harry's is right now," Snape spoke over him, cutting Dumbledore off. "As I said, it would be too dangerous! The Dark Lord wouldn't risk his own safety."

Snape didn't know why he was even trying to help Harry when he could easily just pass the problem off to the Headmaster or the boy's Head of House. Instead the child was sleeping in his guest bedroom. For years he had despised the boy, thinking he was nothing but a copy of James Potter. But shifting through the boy's memories in the Chamber of Secrets, he had learned that Harry was more like his mother.

Not once did he find a memory of the boy being cruel to anyone. He helped his housemates as well as students from other houses. Snape had even seen Harry helping one of his Slytherins cast a Patronus charm, encouraging him to think of a happy memory.

Harry judged others on their merits, never on their house, their appearance or their interests. He treated everyone with equal kindness, the same kindness that Lily had.

Snape was brought back from his thoughts when the floorboards creaked, looking up to find the boy standing in the doorway.

"Harry?" Snape said, not even realizing that he was using the boy's first name. He no longer saw the child as the spawn of James, but as the child of Lily.

"My dear boy," Dumbledore said when he saw Harry. "Come and sit with me. Let's talk." He led the boy to one of the arm chairs in the living room.

Harry wrapped the quilt tighter around himself as he sat down. He didn't feel like talking. His immediate plan was to let the old man talk, giving small nods here and there to make it look like he was listening, and then escape back into solitude as soon as possible.

"I know how you feel…"

"No you don't!" Harry spat in anger, his plans forgotten. After that first sentence he knew there was now way he could just sit back and listen to the Headmaster talk.

Severus sat back at the kitchen table, watching as the scene unfolded. He was surprised that Harry hadn't jumped out of his chair and strangled the Headmaster with his own beard after he'd started off with such an empty platitude.

"…You are right, my dear boy, I don't…but things always…"

"Don't you dare finish that!" Harry screamed, shocking Dumbledore enough that the man flinched back a little.

"What were you about to say? What were you going to say? That things always happen for a reason?" Harry yelled. "It didn't happen for a reason! There was no reason at all!"

Snape kept quiet and allowed Harry to blow up on the Headmaster. Dumbledore needed a reality check on the situation.

"I want you out… Get out!" Harry screamed.

"Harry…" Dumbledore spoke softly before Snape decided it was time to step in.

"The child asked you to leave," he said simply.

"I will come back later so we can have a little talk," Dumbledore said as he stood. When Harry didn't respond, he sighed and took his leave.

Silence spread across the chambers, the only sound coming from the kitchen, where Snape busied himself with making breakfast to give the boy time to compose himself.