Author's Note:

Thank you SO much for all of the kind words and wonderful reviews!

This chapter has a little fluff, a little angst, and a lot of bonding. One theme we have going on here is that both Snape and Harry struggle with their emotional needs. They are both fiercely independent, but sometimes, you need to learn to ask for help. It would save SO much drama!

Snape let Harry sleep until almost 11:00am. For the first time in a week, he was actually able to get some of his own work done peacefully and he was tempted to let Harry sleep even longer if not for the fact it would mean the boy wouldn't sleep at night.

He knocked on Harry's door and walked in. Harry stirred when he heard the knock and rolled over, pushing himself up in the bed.

"Have a nice nap?" Snape asked, looking the boy over carefully for any signs he was unwell.

"Yeah, but I still feel kind of tired." Harry reached for his glasses on the bedside table and put them on his face before sinking back onto the bed.

"Good, then maybe you'll still sleep tonight. Take a few minutes to get dressed and I'll make you some tea."

Snape returned to the kitchen and put the kettle on, and then cut up some oranges while he waited for the water to boil. He arranged the slices on a small plate and took a cup of tea to the parlor, setting it down on the coffee table with the plate of fruit.

Harry opened his door and strolled slowly into the living room, his hair sticking up in all directions, still looking quite exhausted. He slumped down on the couch and reached for an orange slice before mumbling "Thanks."

Snape nodded and then paused for a moment to readjust himself on his chair. "Have you always had difficulty sleeping?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know, sometimes." He sat back on the couch and sipped at his tea. "I get restless and my mind just won't shut up."

"Mm," Snape replied, understanding fully what that felt like to struggle with an active mind. "Well, we'll try a few things and see if we can't improve it. But I need you to be completely honest with me about what you're feeling so I can help you."

Harry's heart dropped a bit, he knew how important honesty and trust were with Snape and he felt a twinge of guilt about lying to him earlier. He took another sip of tea and tried to swallow any urge he might have to tell him the whole truth about last night.

Snape could sense that Harry wasn't really in the mood to talk, and he didn't want to push him. He pulled his sleeves down and smoothed down the fabric of his pants before looking back at Harry "I just want you to know that I will never be angry with you if you're having trouble sleeping. There are lots of things we can try—even potions if we need to—but I can't help you if you don't tell me."

Harry avoided eye contact and took a few seconds to set his cup back on the table. "OK, I will." He was desperate to change the conversation. After another moment he added, "Do you think I can go outside again later? It helps me relax when I can fly."

"If you focus on your work today, I will see that you get some time to fly later."

They sat awkwardly for a few minutes while Harry finished his tea and then moved to the kitchen table to begin their school work for the day.

After lunch, Snape took Harry down to the potion's lab and they worked on prepping ingredients and reviewing protocols for their next brew. Snape took Harry into the greenhouse and pointed out a few more interesting plants and quizzed him on some of the others they had already gone over, making sure it had all stuck.

In the late afternoon, Snape let Harry fly as promised and then they spent a relaxing evening cooking, eating, playing chess and casually talking.

When it came time for bed, Snape made an extra effort to spend time working on relaxation exercises. He did a guided meditation and some breathing exercises before he took out a book to read. Snape was midway through the second page when Harry opened his eyes.

"Can you tell me about my parents?" Harry asked, seemingly out of nowhere. Snape had made casual references to knowing his parents a few times in the past, but he had never elaborated.

The question caught Snape off-guard. He set the book in his lap and looked at Harry, unsure of what to say.

"What do you want to know?" Snape said, exhaling audibly. This wasn't a conversation he was prepared to have, especially right now.

"I don't know. Anything. I don't remember them at all." Harry looked up at Snape expectantly, pulling the quilts up around his shoulders. "I saw them, you know. In the Mirror of Erised."

Snape felt like he'd been punched in the gut. As much as he loathed James, he had never gotten over Lily, but both of their deaths still weighed heavily on him. It was part of the reason he felt so responsible for Harry. He felt a deep sadness that the boy would never know his parents, or the love they clearly had for him.

"I went to school with both of them, but I knew Lily best," he finally said evenly, refusing to let his emotions come to the surface. "Your mother was a beautiful and talented witch, and a very kind person."

Harry didn't respond, he just looked at Snape, willing him to continue.

Snape readjusted himself on the chair, forcing himself to control his own emotions. "She loved you very much, you know. Both of them did."

"What was she like?" Harry said, desperately wanting him to give more details.

Snape paused. He couldn't do this. He wasn't ready to have this conversation with Harry. He sighed and put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Sleep now, Harry. We'll discuss this more another time."

Harry sat up in the bed slightly, "But I don't want to discuss it another time, I want to talk about it now!"

Before he could think about what he was saying, Snape reacted, "I said we will talk about it later. It's late, now lay back down and go to sleep!"

Snape tossed the book onto the bedside table and stood up. He pulled the chair back to the desk before pausing and resting both of his hands on it, letting his head hang down. He took in a breath. He knew he shouldn't have snapped at the boy and he felt immediate regret for how he had responded.

"No one ever tells me anything. It's not fair." Harry shouted before turning himself over on his side, facing away from Snape. He pulled the covers up over himself and added, "I hate you."

Snape didn't know what to do. He was filled with self-loathing and disgust for how he had handled the whole thing. He knew he should make an effort to comfort the boy, but he didn't know what to say. He hadn't dealt with his own emotions about it, how was he supposed to share them with Harry? He could barely even think about Lily without feeling heartbroken, so he did everything he could to avoid it, refusing to even allow himself to remember her face.

"Goodnight, then," Snape said tersely as he walked over and turned off the bedside lamp. He stood for a moment to look at Harry, wishing he could figure out what else to say. After a brief pause, he walked out, closing the door softly behind himself.

When he heard the door close, Harry began to cry. He was soon sobbing into his pillow, missing his parents and desperately wishing his life were different, wishing that he felt loved.

Snape stood outside of his door, his hand on his own head, cursing himself for not knowing what to do or say. You fool. You imbecile.

He walked back to the parlor and sat stiffly in his chair, running the conversation over and over again in his head. He thought about Lily and he hated himself more. He imagined what she would be thinking if she could see him right now. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.

Snape sat for several minutes before he finally stood back up again and walked to Harry's door. He could hear the boy crying inside. He paused for a moment with his hand on the door handle before he finally found the courage to open it.

Snape walked through the dark room and sat on the edge of Harry's bed. He put his hand on the boy's shoulder and said, "I'm sorry."

"Leave me alone," Harry replied loudly, jerking his shoulder away from Snape's hand. "You don't care about me at all. No one does. I wish I had just died that night with my parents." He sobbed louder at his own words.

Hearing these words, Snape felt physically ill. He could hear the pain and suffering in the boy's voice and in his heart-wrenching cries.

Snape reached out with both of his hands and put them on Harry's shoulders. "Stop it. That's enough. Don't ever say that."

"You didn't even want me. You only took me because Dumbledore forced you. You don't care about me, you won't even say my name. You hate me."

Snape paused for a moment, Harry's words cutting him like a knife.

"I don't hate you at all. I will admit that I could have never imagined that we'd find ourselves in this situation, but no one forced me. I wanted you. I wanted to take you as my apprentice, to teach you things and help you become a great wizard."

Snape breathed in deeply before continuing. "I want to take care of you. Harry, please... look at me."

He put his hands on Harry's shoulder, pulling him slightly, encouraging him to roll over.

Harry allowed Snape's hands to turn him over, but he still wouldn't make eye contact.

"Come here," Snape said softly, motioning for Harry to scoot himself closer. "Please."

Harry sniffled as he moved closer to Snape, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

"This is an adjustment for both of us. I'm trying. I made a commitment to care for you, and I take that very seriously. You are very important to me."

Snape wasn't great at sharing his emotions, but he could see and feel the pain in Harry's face and he wanted desperately to reassure him and make him feel better. He reached his hand out and put it on the boy's head, gently stroking his hair.

Harry's tears started again, and he closed his eyes as tears streamed down his cheeks.

"Shhhh, don't cry, please don't cry" Snape said, moving his hand down to Harry's face, wiping the tears away with his thumb.

They sat silently for a few moments before Snape spoke again. "I cared for your mother very deeply, Harry. I was thinking about her when I decided to take you in. She loved you more than anything in the world. Your father too. I know I will never replace them, but I promised them in my heart that I would do my best to help you grow into the kind of man that would make them proud."

Harry pushed himself up and looked at Snape. Silence passed between them before Harry awkwardly put his arms around him, placing his head on his chest.

Snape froze and his body went rigid, he was completely caught off-guard by Harry's gesture. He reached up with his right hand and patted Harry on the head, unable to bring himself to put his arms around the boy and return the embrace. "Shhh...we'll figure this out."

Harry pulled away and his face blushed slightly. He laid back down on his side, pulling the pillow vertically so he could hold onto it.

"Will you read to me some more? Just til I fall asleep?"

Snape sat upright and put his hand through his hair before returning it to his forehead. "It's late, it's already past your bedtime and you didn't sleep properly last night," he said as he reached down and pulled the quilts up further, tucking them around Harry.

"Please?" Harry let his words linger. He didn't want to be alone right now.

Snape took a deep breath and relented. "Very well, But I want you to close your eyes and try to sleep. I'll read you one chapter, but that's it."

He didn't want to leave the boy by himself while he was feeling so vulnerable, so he picked up the book, and began to read, slowly and softly until he was sure Harry drifted off.

The next morning, Snape let Harry sleep in a little since it was his day off. He took the morning to read and do some of his own work, enjoying the quiet time to himself. He had thought a lot about the previous night. He was torn about how to talk to the boy about his parents. Especially James. He didn't think he was the right person for that at all, he would have to think about it more.

When Harry came wandering into the parlor just after 9:00am, Snape looked up at him. "Well rested, I hope?"

Harry nodded his head, still groggy from sleep.

"Breakfast?" Snape asked, setting his papers down.

"Yeah."

Snape stood up and walked to the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out the milk, eggs and juice. He set the milk and the eggs on the counter and poured Harry a glass of orange juice, placing it on the kitchen table in front of him.

"There's some porridge on the stove, do you want eggs as well?"

"Yes, please." Harry said as he took a sip of his juice.

Snape added a bit of milk to the porridge and turned on the stove to heat it up. He pulled out another pan and cracked the eggs into it.

After a few minutes, he dished up the eggs and spooned the porridge into a bowl. He'd flavored it with cinnamon and a bit of sugar. He turned back to look at Harry, "Do you want bananas in it?"

"OK, sure."

Snape sliced a banana into the bowl and brought that and the plate of eggs over to Harry. He was going a bit out of his way this morning to make things extra nice, he was still feeling guilty about everything that had happened the night before.

Harry ate quietly while Snape made himself another cup of tea, and then sat down across the table from him.

"I was thinking we could make our way down to the beach today if you like. Or we can go into town."

Harry looked up from his plate and smiled. "Yeah, the beach would be good." He spooned some of the porridge into his mouth before adding, "Can I swim?"

"I think it's a little too cold to get in the water right now." The Atlantic ocean was freezing, even in the middle of summer, but certainly in April it would be insupportable. He didn't want the boy to catch his death of cold.

After breakfast, Harry brought his dishes to the sink, and Snape took them from him, deciding to do them himself. He sent Harry to put on his trainers.

"We'll take the car up the road, I saw a beach access closer to town."

"Can I bring my football?" Harry asked, smiling for the first time that morning.

Snape turned off the sink and shook the water off of his hands. "I don't see why not."

After Snape finished the dishes and they were both ready, Harry followed him out the door and they got in the car, this time Snape feeling much more self-assured as he reversed out of the garage.

A few miles up the road, Snape pulled into a little access drive that took them to an overlook. He parked the car and the two got out, Harry with his football in tow.

They walked down a set of rickety wooden stairs, taking them from the cliffs down to the beach. On the bottom stair, Harry sat down to take off his socks and trainers, squishing his toes in the sand.

"Feels good!" he said, as he rolled up the legs of his trousers. He looked up at Snape with his brow furrowed, "Aren't you going to take your shoes off?"

Snape contemplated this for a moment. He couldn't remember the last time he'd walked barefoot on a beach. His family hadn't taken many trips to the seaside in his childhood, and as an adult he'd been too busy. Not to mention, no one takes trips to the beach by themselves. He'd gone once with Master Barclay to a conference in Barcelona, and a group of other Potions Masters and apprentices had spent the day on the beach, but Snape had refused to wear a bathing suit and had stayed in the shade, fully clothed while the others laid in the sun and played in the water. He had never been much of a beach person.

"I'll be fine," he said, as he stood on the steps, looking out at the water.

"Come on," Harry pleaded, smiling up at him, "Pleeeeeease!"

Snape reflected for a moment before he relented. "Fine," he said, and he sat down on the stairs and removed his shoes and socks. He rationalized it to himself that it would be easier than vanishing all of the sand from them later.

As he stepped onto the beach and felt the cool sand between his toes, a little shiver ran up his spine. It really did feel good, and he realized how few physical pleasures he allowed himself.

Harry raced toward the ocean while Snape walked slowly toward the crashing waves.

Snape could hear Harry squeal as the cold water made contact with his feet.

"Don't you dare get wet, Harry James Potter! I will not be pleased if you catch pneumonia!"

Harry walked into the tide and then ran back onto the beach as the waves chased him onto the shore, sinking his feet into the sand as the water pulled back all around him. He stuck his hands in the wet sand and then rinsed them again as the water rushed up around him, his feet sinking deeper.

After rinsing his hands and feet, Harry returned to the dry sand and kicked gently at his football where he'd left it. He dribbled it down the shore as Snape followed behind him.

"Wanna kick the ball with me?" Harry asked, smiling as he maneuvered the ball around on the beach.

Snape had never been particularly athletic. He'd enjoyed Quidditch as a student at Hogwarts, and had secretly always wished he could have played, but he'd never played sports in his childhood and he'd never had the confidence to try out. Besides, he was too focused on his studies. He considered himself fairly coordinated, but as an awkward child, the other kids in Cokeworth had never included him in their games.

Snape's dad had been a fan of the Wolverhamton Wanderers, and he would often sit around and watch the games with him on the weekends when his dad was at home. Unless of course he'd decided to go down the pub and watch them there, stumbling back in later in the day either drunk with glory or pissed beyond belief that his team had lost. Overall, Snape didn't hold that many happy memories when it came to football; between the teasing neighborhood kids and his own alcoholic father, he imagined his life would have been better without it.

But here Harry was, wanting to kick the ball with him.

"Pass it here, Potter," Snape said, motioning for Harry to take a jog further down the beach. When Harry was suitably far away, Snape gave the ball a kick and sent Harry running after it.

His kick had sufficient speed, but it wasn't entirely accurate. Thankfully, the ball didn't roll around too quickly on the sand, and Harry was able to catch up to it, stopping it and turning around to return the kick. He passed it back to Snape who returned it again with a huge force of power, forcing Harry to run further down the beach to fetch it.

They continued to make their way up the beach while passing the ball back and forth.

After a while, Snape reached down and picked it up. "I think that's enough," he said, working hard to control his breath, not wanting to seem as out of shape as he felt. They'd managed to make their way quite far down the shore, and Snape was ready to turn back.

Harry sat down on the sand, breathing hard. To be honest, he was the one doing most of the running for the ball, and he was quite exhausted. "That was fun," he said, smiling up at Snape, his hair windswept and his cheeks pink.

Snape walked over to where Harry was sitting and sat down beside him, grateful to give himself a bit of a break. For several minutes, they stared out at the waves and didn't speak.

"I'm glad I'm here," Harry said, breaking the silence. "This is so much better than being at my relatives."

Snape wasn't sure what to say, so he just nodded his head while he searched for the words. "Me too." He awkwardly reached an arm around Harry's shoulder and patted him before resting his hand there momentarily.

Harry felt so perfect in that moment, the overcast sun shining above him and a cool breeze coming off of the ocean. He leaned gently into the distant embrace but stopped himself before his head made contact with Snape's shoulder.

"Shall we go into town for lunch?" Snape asked, dropping his arm, and dusting the sand off his hands. He pushed himself up to standing, brushing the sand off of his trousers as he straightened himself up.

"Yeah, sounds good," Harry replied, standing up and then reaching back down to pick up his football. "I'm pretty hungry, actually."

They made their way back to the car, Snape walking with composure and Harry dribbling the ball through the sand, occasionally passing it to himself up the beach and then running to go get it.

When they got back to the wooden steps where they'd left their shoes, Snape looked around before sitting down and casting a quick spell to eliminate the sand from his feet. He did the same for Harry, and the two put on their socks and shoes. But even with the spell, Snape still felt like he could feel stubborn pieces of sand everywhere.

They went for a late lunch at a little place called the Cardigan Arms, an adorable little chippie that sat on the outskirts of town. They both had the fish and chips with mushy peas, and left feeling full and satisfied.

It was just after 3:00pm when Harry and Snape returned home, well-fed and worn out.

"Take your shoes and socks off and leave them by the door," Snape commanded, "we don't need to be traipsing sand all through the house."

Harry did as he was told, pulling his trainers off without untying them and dropping his socks on top.

Snape made his way to the kitchen to put the kettle on, he was ready for his afternoon fix of caffeine. Harry sprawled out on the couch while he waited for Snape to return with tea and biscuits.

"By all means, make yourself comfortable, there's nothing I enjoy more than serving you," Snape said loudly from the kitchen as he pulled out two mugs and placed teabags in them.

Harry smirked, he knew Snape enjoyed complaining about his laziness, even though he didn't mean it. "What's wrong? Is putting biscuits on a plate too strenuous for you? Perhaps I should come and help, you are getting to be quite elderly." He snickered to himself.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," Snape said in his low silky voice,"I am a Potions Master after all. One never knows when my hand might just slip over your cup and you find yourself at the mercy of an enslavement potion, or perhaps even a potion that turns you into a small adorable animal. A quiet one, preferably. Perhaps a sloth? Yes, that would be quite suiting."

Snape set down a tray containing two mugs of tea and a plate of Jammie Dodgers before settling into his armchair, a cup of tea perched at his lips.

Harry reached down for his mug. Even though he knew Snape was joking, he eyed it suspiciously before taking a sip.

Snape looked at him and gave him a mischievous smile, "Enjoy your tea, Mr. Potter."

They sat in the parlor for an hour, drinking their tea and putting pieces of the puzzle together casually.

"Can I go out and fly for a bit before dinner?" Harry asked, looking up at Snape and giving him a wide smile.

"We'll start making dinner in a bit, why don't you do something quietly inside for a bit."

"But I want to fly! Please please please!" Harry begged, standing up from where he had been sitting on the floor, working on the puzzle.

"Not today, I'd rather you rest a bit, do something relaxing like read or draw or write in your journal." Snape was sure Harry was exhausted from his emotional night and a long day out playing at the beach, he didn't want him to have an accident because he was tired.

Harry was annoyed that Snape wouldn't let him fly. "Flying does relax me, I don't feel like doing anything inside. I'm always inside!"

Snape cocked an eyebrow and stared at Harry, "Mind your tone. You've had enough excitement for one day, so unless you'd prefer to stand in the corner, I would advise you to find something quiet to do."

Harry was tempted to kick the table or tell Snape to bugger off, but he controlled himself, instead stomping to his room. "Fine, I'll be in my room."

Snape took the dishes to the kitchen when he heard Harry's door close a bit too loudly for his liking. He let it go, hoping Harry was just tired.

While Harry brooded in his room, Snape put the bones from the chicken into a pot with sauteed onions, garlic, celery and carrots and made a giant pot of chicken broth. He left it on the stove to simmer while he read and compiled citations for his manuscript.

After an hour, when he hadn't heard a sound from Harry's room, he walked to the door, knocking softly before opening it.

Harry was on his bed with a book, but he'd fallen asleep, his glasses halfway down his nose, curled up on top of the quilts.

Snape walked over and picked up the book, marking the page before putting it on his desk.

"Wake up," Snape said. "It's nearly dinner time, why don't you come and help me finish the soup?"

Harry scrunched his face up, "What time is it?"

"It's nearly six o'clock, come on, up you get." Snape patted him on the arm. "I want you to sleep tonight, so no more napping right now."

Snape got up and walked to the door, hovering there to make sure Harry was moving.

In the kitchen, Snape had Harry cut up a few more veggies while he drained the broth, putting half of it away in the fridge for later use. They combined the vegetables with the leftover chicken and Snape added half of a box of pasta to make a delicious chicken and vegetable stew.

During dinner, Harry yawned and stayed quiet, too tired to make much conversation. Snape ate quietly, completely content to not have any idle chatter, he too was tired from the night before.

After dinner, they played wizarding chess and at 8:00 Snape sent Harry to take a bath and get ready for bed. He also hoped the warm water would relax him and make it easier for him to sleep.

"Off you go, I want you to take a bath tonight," Snape said as he put the chess pieces into the box. "Merlin knows there's probably sand everywhere, you don't want that getting into your sheets."

"But it's still early, and it's the weekend, can't I stay up a bit longer?" Harry whined as he folded up the chess board. "I'm not even tired."

This was clearly a lie, Harry has been barely able to keep his eyes open since dinner. Snape wanted to laugh at the suggestion.

"Go take a warm bath and brush your teeth, and I'll read to you when you're done." Snape pointed toward the washroom.

Harry put the lid on the box and went to his room to grab his towels and pajamas before returning to the washroom to run his bath.

Harry would never admit it, but the bath felt amazing. He luxuriated in the warm tub, soaking and relaxing as he slowly soaped himself. He lathered his head with shampoo before laying down with his head under the water and holding his breath for as long as he could before popping up for air. He rinsed himself several times before stepping out and drying himself off with a big fluffy towel.

Even though it wasn't late, he was exhausted. He changed into his PJs and brushed his teeth before climbing into bed and waiting for Snape.

A few minutes later, Snape came into his room to read to him as promised. As usual, Harry was fast asleep within 20 minutes.

Harry woke up with a start at 5am. He'd been deep in sleep but he'd dreamt about his parents and then he heard his mother scream. He felt unsettled and couldn't go back to sleep. He looked over at the broomstick in the corner of his room.

He mulled it over for a few minutes before peeking his head outside of his room to make sure Snape's door was closed. Again he felt a voice telling him not to, but he pushed it away. He knew Snape had told him to wake him if he was having trouble sleeping, but he didn't want to. It wasn't that serious. He just needed a few minutes to calm his nerves.

He grabbed the broom and tiptoed quietly across the parlor. His socks and shoes were still sitting by the door and he grabbed them, putting them on quickly before he reached for the back door.

Even though the moon was still nearly full, there was a heavy cloud cover, and he couldn't see as well as he had a few days ago. He lifted off, but unlike the last time, he didn't feel as free. He was nervous, and a little bit guilty, and he couldn't really get into the same headspace as he has been before.

Harry continued to fly, trying hard to make sure he stayed well within the boundaries, but every minute that passed, he felt less and less easy about it. He wasn't enjoying it at all the way he had last time. He kept waiting for the release, the adrenaline, the euphoria, but it never came.

After a few minutes, he decided it was enough. Flying wasn't doing what he hoped it would, and he just felt bad about it. He headed toward the ground, but in the darkness his mistimed his landing, skidding along the ground with his left ankle bending behind him. He flipped over the front of his broom, skidding onto the grass. His ankle burst into pain. He curled up into a ball on the lawn, holding his foot and knowing that he had hurt himself badly.

Harry laid there for a few minutes, crying quietly to himself before he tried to sit up and see if he could move his ankle gently. Sharp pains shot through him as he rubbed his ankle with his hands. He wasn't too far from the door to the house, but he wasn't sure if he could make it.

A few more minutes went by before he attempted to stand up. He gently put his foot down, and immediately felt an excruciating pain shoot up his leg. He had to clamp his hands around his mouth to keep from crying out. There was no way he could put weight on it.

He bent down and tried to crawl toward the door, moving slowly and holding his injured ankle above the ground while he dragged his broom alongside him. He finally made it inside, sitting up on his knees to close and lock the back door.

Shit, Harry thought. He knew he was really hurt and there was no way he was going to be able to hide this from Snape. But he reasoned to himself it would be better in the daylight after he woke up rather than calling for him right now. He continued to crawl along the kitchen floor, making his way to the front entrance where he took off his shoes and socks before crawling through the parlor.

Harry was in so much pain, he felt like he was being stabbed in the ankle. He could tell his foot was swelling and he had shooting pains going up his leg. This was bad. REALLY bad. He dragged himself slowly back to his room, his broom in one hand as he slowly propelled himself across the floor using his hands and knees.

When he got back to his room, he put his broom in the corner and then pulled himself onto the bed. He was sure he was covered in dirt and grass and when he reached down to touch his ankle it was hot and swollen. He was in so much pain. He desperately wanted to call out to Snape.

He curled up onto his bed, leaving his injured foot outside of the blanket, and cried into his pillow. He knew he'd never get back to sleep now and he would just have to wait until the sun rose before he called for Snape.

Snape woke up before the sunrise, glancing at his clock and silently cursing to himself. It wasn't even 6:00am, but felt like something wasn't right. He sat up in his bed and listened but didn't hear anything. Still, he felt deeply unsettled.

He got out of bed and walked to his door, opening it slowly and listening again. Finally, he heard a faint cry from Harry's room and he rushed toward it, opening the door without his customary knock.

"Harry, " he said hurriedly, "what's wrong?" Without thinking he cast a silent Lumos so he could see, rushing to the boy's beside. "Did you have a nightmare? What's wrong?"

Snape put his hand on Harry's forehead, worrying he might be ill. Harry's cries intensified at his touch.

"I'm sorry!" he heard the boy cry. "I'm really sorry."

Snape was completely confused, it wasn't even daybreak, what could the boy possibly be apologizing for. "Harry, what's wrong? I'm here, it will be OK." He stroked the boy's head, still somewhat groggy from his own sleep.

"I fell," Harry said, crying. "I hurt myself." The boy reached down and grabbed onto his left foot. "It hurts so bad."

Snape moved his wand over to Harry's ankle, seeing immediately that it was purple and swollen. He quickly cast a diagnostic, running his wand over his foot and ankle.

"What the hell?" Snape exclaimed without thinking, "You've broken your ankle and sprained several ligaments. What happened?"

Harry cried even harder. "I fell. I'm sorry. It was an accident."

If Snape had been half-asleep before, he was suddenly wide awake. His disbelief and his anger got pushed to back as concern and action took over. He cast a cooling charm and jumped up, running toward his room to grab potions from his emergency kit. "Don't move, I'll be right back."

He returned a few moments later, several potions in hand. Something for the pain, something for the swelling, and a potion that would help aid the knitting of the bone and ligaments. He handed them to Harry. "Take these."

"I don't want -" Harry didn't get to finish his sentence before Snape barked out, "No arguments! You will take them RIGHT. NOW."

Harry put the first vial to his lips and swallowed, grimacing slightly before he returned the bottle to Snape's hand as another vial was shoved into it. After the third potion, Harry laid back, feeling admittedly better already. His toes were getting cold as a result of the cooling charm Snape cast around his foot, and the sharp pain started to dissipate.

Snape set down the empty vials, taking a deep breath. "Feeling better?" he asked, calmly, finally feeling his adrenaline settle.

Harry nodded, "Yes, sir. Thank you." He was dreading the conversation that would happen next.

"Care to tell me how you managed to do such traumatic damage to your ankle at 5-something in the morning?" Snape asked, suspiciously, taking a deep and dramatic breath while he crossed his arms.

Harry desperately wanted to come up with a brilliant explanation, but he couldn't. He knew he was going to be in trouble, but he didn't want to lie anymore. "I'm sorry," he said, truly feeling it.

"Sorry for what?" Snape asked, his tone going cold. Even in the darkness, he stared down at Harry, the whites of his eyes glinting in the small amount of light in the room.

Harry readjusted himself in the bed, not wanting to make eye contact. "I woke up...and I couldn't get back to sleep."

Snape allowed the silence to answer for him, refusing to make things easier for the boy. His eyes continued to bore down on him.

"I went outside for a few minutes, and I fell," Harry said. He knew the truth was inevitable, but he was having a hard time saying it.

Snape stared down at him for another few seconds before he responded. "I see. So you just tripped in the dark, then?" he asked, his tone dubious.

"Uh, not exactly," Harry answered, swallowing loudly. "I took my broom out...and I couldn't see well and landed badly."

Harry closed his eyes, not wanting to see Snape's reaction.

Snape remained stoic, internally feeling anger and surprise, but refusing to react outwardly. He took another moment before he responded. "I see."

This was even harder for Harry to deal with, Snape was so cool and calm, he didn't know what else to say. He felt horrible.

"Perhaps I was unclear in my instructions, is that it?" Snape asked, his voice shockingly neutral.

Harry shook his head, "No, sir. No. I knew I shouldn't, I just felt restless. I'm sorry. I'm really REALLY sorry."

"Mmm," Snape responded, shaking his head slowly, not being able to respond with words. As shaken up as he felt, his words were gentle. "Well then, if your pain is better, I'd suggest you try to get back to sleep...prop your foot up on a pillow so it won't swell." He reached over Harry to grab an extra pillow, enlarging it with a silent spell and then placing it underneath his injured ankle, helping Harry adjust his foot gently on top of it.

Harry was starting to feel warm and sleepy from the pain potion Snape had given him. He laid his head back down on his pillow and pulled the blankets up.

"I don't want you to even think of getting up, Harry," Snape said. "Your ankle needs time to heal, so try to sleep. If you need anything, I want you to call out. I'll come and check on you in a little while." Snape tucked the blankets tightly around Harry before reaching down and touching his injured ankle. He tapped it gently and Harry felt the sensation of compression all around it, as though he had on a bandage, but it was made out of air.

"I'm sorry," Harry mumbled as he drifted off to sleep, the potion's effects extending out from his belly and wrapping him in what felt like a warm, calming blanket from the inside.

"I know," Snape said, putting his hand on Harry's head, running his fingers softly against his forehead. "Just sleep now."

Snape stood for a minute, making sure Harry was asleep before he walked out of the room, his heart still racing. Even though he was still tired, he knew he would never go back to sleep. He walked out of Harry's room, leaving the door slightly ajar as he made his way to the kitchen to put on the kettle.

Snape sat in his armchair, sipping his tea and trying to make sense of everything he was feeling. He was angry, but more than that he was deeply concerned. Seeing Harry hurt and in pain had affected him deeply. Knowing that he had been injured on his watch made him feel extremely guilty and negligent, even though he recognized that Harry was the one who had acted irresponsibly.

He'd given him a pretty powerful pain potion, one he knew would probably knock him out for a few hours, nonetheless, Snape got up every 15-20 minutes to take a look and make sure the boy was still OK.

After an hour, Snape had gotten up to retrieve some of his own work, but he couldn't focus at all. He wished he could talk to someone. He thought about reaching out to Master Barclay, or even McGonagall, but he finally decided he didn't want anyone else to see him in this state. Besides, what would they think of him? That he was such a clueless guardian that Harry managed to sneak out and injure himself when he was sleeping only a few feet away.

As the morning light started to seep in through the windows, Snape forced himself to get it together. He walked back to check on Harry one more time, relieved to see him sleeping soundly with his foot still elevated on the pillow.

At 8:30 am, Harry opened his eyes to see Snape standing over him, holding several vials of potion. "Take these," he said, first handing him a light blue one, and then one that was deep purple. Harry swallowed them and cringed, and then flopped back down on his pillow.

Snape sat down on the edge of the bed and took Harry's ankle in his hands, massaging it gently and murmuring incantations as his fingers passed over the bones and ligaments. After setting his foot down gently on the pillow, he cast another cooling spell around it before once again tucking the quilts around Harry's body.

"How are you feeling," Snape asked, as he set his hands into his lap.

Harry could feel the potions taking effect again, and although his ankle was still throbbing slightly, the sharp pain was gone, and he felt relaxed and comfortable. "It's better...thank you."

"Do you need anything?" Snape asked, a look of concern etched deeply in his face.

"Nuhh-uhh," Harry mumbled, "I'm good."

Snape adjusted himself slightly, he felt enormous relief that Harry was no longer in pain, but now that his concern was starting to fade, he felt disappointed and angry. "You'll rest today, so your ankle can heal, but I hope you know that you are in quite a lot of trouble, young man. You and I are going to have a very long discussion when you're feeling better." His voice was soft, but he let his fingers tap Harry's forehead to emphasize his point.

"I know," Harry said, rolling over onto his side facing Snape. He was too tired and drugged up on potions to feel too embarrassed by the gentle scold. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, with his eyes closed, his hand reaching out and landing on Snape's knee, grasping him like a teddy bear.

Snape lifted Harry's hand off of his leg and put it beside him on the bed. "Well then, I'll leave your door open. Call out if you need anything, I don't want you out of this bed." He stood up and walked toward the door.

For the next few hours, Snape made his way back and forth to Harry's room, watching him sleep and making sure he cast a cooling charm on his ankle every hour. The swelling was improving, and by mid-morning, his ankle looked nearly normal again.

At 10:30am, Harry woke up, groggy from his disjointed sleep and all of the potions. The pain in his ankle was mostly gone, and he moved his left foot in a circle, surprised that he could do so without any discomfort. He tossed the covers off of him and rotated himself to the side of the bed, letting his feet dangle above the floor. He shifted himself down so his weight came onto his good foot, before gently lowering his left foot down beside it. He hesitated before he shifted his weight slightly onto his left foot. It felt stiff, and a bit achey, but nothing like the pain he'd felt before.

Just as Harry was starting to stand, Snape appeared in the doorway. "I thought I told you not to get up from this bed," he said sternly. He crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow at Harry. "It seems we have some work to do when it comes to listening."

Harry sat back down on the bed, his face flushing. "I just needed to go to the loo."

"Did I not tell you to call for me if you needed something?"

"Yeah, but my ankle is feeling better now. I can manage." Harry let his head drop down slightly, he knew he should have asked for help, but he hated feeling dependent on anyone.

Snape walked over and stood over him, putting both of his hands out. "Hold onto me and stand up slowly."

Harry put his hands on Snape's, allowing himself to be pulled up slightly, putting most of his weight on his right foot. He gently set his left foot onto the ground, holding tightly onto Snape.

"How does it feel?" Snape asked, looking down at Harry's left foot.

"It feels a bit stiff and achy, but it's not painful."

"Walk slowly, and hold onto my hands." Snape walked backward as Harry stepped forward, holding tightly to his small hands.

They inched toward Harry's bedroom door and then out into the hallway in front of the washroom. "I think I can get it from here," Harry said, somewhat embarrassed. He didn't want Snape walking him into the loo.

Snape stood at the doorway and nodded his head. "I'll be here if you need anything."

Harry limped slightly into the bathroom and closed the door behind him, mortified that Snape was hovering just outside. He took care of his needs and washed his hands, drying them on a hand towel before opening the door.

Snape waited to guide him into the parlor where he set him up on the couch, propping his ankle up once again on a pillow. The swelling was practically non-existent now, but Snape didn't want to take any chances.

Harry laid on the couch while Snape brought him tea and breakfast. If it weren't for the fact that he knew he would soon be in trouble, he would have quite enjoyed it, Snape was pampering him.

Instead of starting his school work, Snape let Harry rest on the couch all morning. He read and napped, and few words were exchanged between them.

After a casual lunch on the couch, Harry was feeling practically perfect, but he was enjoying having Snape take care of him, so he didn't want to say anything.

At 2:00pm, Snape gave him a final dose of potions and examined his ankle once more, running a full set of diagnostics before feeling satisfied he was better. To be sure, he had Harry stand and walk and hop on each foot, at which point it was clear to both of them that Harry was fully healed.

"Congratulations, Mr. Potter, it appears you're back in full health." Snape's tone was ominous, and Harry sat back down on the couch, swallowing nervously.

They both knew, with Harry well again, he had a lot of explaining to do.

Author's End Note:

OK- so Snape was WAY nicer than he's used to being, but he was clearly very shaken. Now that Harry's doing better, it's probably not going to be a very pleasant conversation! I hope Harry enjoyed the TLC while he had it! LOL.

PLEASE please review! I want to know what you're thinking, what you liked, where you think things are going. Your comments and reviews keep me excited to keep writing!