Author's Note:

So guys- I am SO so sorry that it has been SO long since I updated. Its been a rollercoaster over the last year or so, but for a lot of good reasons. Went through a big move and a new job, and a few months ago, I had my beautiful miracle baby. I'm totally in love with him, but the lack of sleep is REAL.

As many of you know who have been following this story since the beginning, writing this fic was a big part of my healing journey after we lost our little girl in 2020. Because of that, it was really hard for me to revisit it during my pregnancy because it brought a lot of feelings out, but I thought about it CONSTANTLY.

I NEVER planned on abandoning this fic, so thanks for being patient. I actually have a few more chapters written so I promise it won't be another year before you see an update. I got big plans, people.

Oh, and warnings ahead for ANGSTTTTTTTT. Brace yourselves, children.

Hope you enjoy!

Over the next week, Harry put his nose to the grindstone. Every day he woke up without complaint and completed his few hours of studies in the morning and then spent all afternoon organizing all of the ingredients he had agreed to put together as part of Snape's "reparations."

Snape had given him a list of over 200 ingredients he was to harvest, prepare and bottle, making enough to leave a set for Master Llewelyn as a thanks for using his cottage, along with a set each for Master Barclay, Snape and himself.

Even though it was a massive and tedious task, Harry approached it with determination and focus; this was his chance to show Snape he had learned his lesson and was willing to do whatever it took to prove himself as a future apprentice. And he hated to admit it, but he was learning a lot in the process. Snape had almost done him a favor.

Snape was shocked by the maturity of this new Harry, he was almost like an entirely different boy. Yes, he was still cheeky and enjoyed a bit of banter, but overall Harry showed a side of himself Snape had rarely seen: diligent, hard-working, and resilient.

"The pickled murtlap is fermenting under the sink," Harry said, gesturing with a nod of his head toward the cabinet to his left. "I made a few extra bottles for your stores. I figured you might need them with all of the cauldron explosions the first years put you through."

"You'd be surprised— the 5th years and the NEWT students are some of my worst— at that point they get cocky or they are otherwise becoming predisposed with their fellow classmates, I see far more explosions with them."

"Really?" Harry exclaimed, mild surprise in his voice.

"Indeed."

They continued to work side-by-side in silence until they broke for tea in the late afternoon, at which point they would usually spend half-an-hour in the parlor discussing their research or just reading.

Setting down the tea service, Snape turned to Harry. "Patrick will be here tomorrow working outside. If you do not wish to see him, you should plan to stay in the lab. I'm having him help me put in a water feature for the garden."

A surge of anxiety moved through Harry's body and he felt his muscles tighten. Snape had managed to keep Patrick away after his deaging "mishap" by claiming he was sick with an extremely contagious flu and pneumonia, but he still had over 20 hours of work to do for Snape, and Snape was going to make sure he followed through.

"It's fine. I may have some ingredients I need to harvest in the garden, but I'll manage."

Harry tried to act cool, but the truth was he still wasn't over it. The whole event had been so traumatizing that it was too much to process, so he just tried to bundle it up and pack it away. He and Snape hadn't talked about what happened in the caves since before he was de-aged. They'd both been pre-occupied working feverishly to prepare the ingredients and work on the research papers. Snape never brought it up, and Harry didn't want to dwell on it, so he tried not to think about it. But he did, of course he did.

Snape stirred his tea and looked at Harry, he could see the muscles in his jaw tighten and he was clearly deep in his head. "I haven't asked you recently how you are feeling about it all. Do you want to talk about it?"

Grabbing another biscuit, Harry answered with a scoff. "No, no I'm fine. There's not much to talk about." He shrugged his shoulders and shoved the Jammie Dodger in his mouth, hoping that would be the end of the conversation. But Snape was no dummy, he could clearly see just how not fine he was.

Guilt ripped through the older wizard, he had definitely dropped the ball with this one. He'd been so caught up in the whole de-aging episode and healing Harry's physical ailments that he hadn't thought about his mental health. Not enough. Barclay had given him the name of the mind healer weeks ago, but he had shoved it away, unable to bring himself to make an appointment. He regretted not bringing this discussion up sooner. How could he be so careless? He silently cursed himself and then took a deep breath before he spoke.

"Regardless, I think it would be prudent to speak to someone...professional."

Harry finished swallowing while he let the words sink in. Subconsciously, he balled his fists at his side, crumpling his forehead as he narrowed his eyes at Snape angrily. "I'm not a nutter, I don't need to speak to a bloody 'professional.' Believe me, I've been through worse things and managed just fine."

Snape leaned forward and hardened his voice. "Take a breath and calm yourself, Mr. Potter, and mind how you speak to me." He kept his voice even but there was no mistaking his displeasure. He stared the boy down for a moment before he continued.

"I never said you were a 'nutter'- but you've been through a trauma. If you ruptured your appendix, we would take you to a healer without a second thought. We should do the same with emotional injuries."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I said I was fine. And I am."

"If that's the case, then I'm sure the mind healer will agree. But as a guardian I would be negligent if I didn't have you evaluated."

Harry crossed his arms in front of him like a petulant child. "I'm not going."

Snape set down his cup loudly and took another deep breath. His first instinct was to make threats, but he was trying to do better. "I understand your reluctance, and your frustration. However, let me remind you that in this household, I make the decisions. And you will go…and I will go with you."

"Fine, you can make me go, but you can't make me talk," Harry spat. He knew he was pushing it by talking to Snape like that, but he secretly wondered how long he'd let him go before he demanded an end to his rude behavior.

In a low and controlled voice, Snape replied. "You are right. But if you don't talk, how will she know if you're as fine as you say you are? We will continue to go to these appointments until she clears you. You know how much I loathe having my time wasted, but if I need to drag you twice a week so you can sit in silence with a mind-healer while we wait out your childish stubbornness, I will. You should know by now that it is fruitless to engage in a battle of wills with me, however, I am more than willing to indulge you until you learn this lesson once again."

Snape was beginning to lose his patience, but he was doing everything possible to stay calm. He blamed himself for letting things get to this point, he should have addressed this weeks ago.

"You're the one who's mental, maybe you should try seeing a mind-healer." Harry was in a full tantrum now. "Stupid prat," he mumbled under his breath, but still within full hearing. He was angry and wanted desperately to get a rise out of Snape, but it wasn't working and that made him even angrier. He kicked the table, and the tea cups rattled with the vibration.

"You're right, maybe I should," Snape replied flatly, choosing to ignore Harry's little outburst.

"UGGHHH!" Harry groaned loudly. "I hate you. I don't care what you say, I am NOT going and you can't make me. You're not my dad, you're not even my teacher any more, so you don't get to tell me what to do!"

And with that, Harry got up from the couch and stormed toward his bedroom, intent on breaking something and screaming into his pillow.

Snape jumped up quickly and grabbed Harry's upper arm as he flew by. "No you don't."

"Get off me! Leave me alone!" Harry screamed, wrenching his arm violently.

But Snape didn't let go, he held him in a vice-like grip that was no match for the 12 year-old. He hardened his voice, "I absolutely will not. I know this is difficult, but we will manage. Together. Now that's enough." He forced the boy into an embrace.

Harry was still fuming, his heart racing, his adrenaline pumping, but Snape just held him in a bear hug. He attempted to scream and punch and kick, but Snape was infinitely stronger and he weathered the pre-teen's assault stoically while he held him, tightly, for several long minutes. As the seconds ticked by, Harry's anger started to dissipate and the fight drained out of him. Slowly his body started to relax, and as the knots in his body unwound, he felt an enormous tidal wave of emotion rise up and overwhelm him.

Snape didn't move or say a word, but as soon as Harry's body began going limp, he felt it. A small vibration at first and then deep, deep wracking sobs. Harry began to cry in a way he had never done before. He wailed with grief into Snape's body, and it sounded like it was coming from the depths of his soul. It unnerved the man, but he remained resolute and he never let go, never loosened his grip. He pulled the boy in a little closer and spoke softly into his ear. "Shhhh shhhh, Harry, everything is going to be alright."

For the next few minutes they stood there, Harry sobbing into Snape and Snape just shushing him gently and whispering calming words while he rocked the boy slowly and held him close.

"I'm sorry," Harry wailed, the first coherent words he'd said in over ten minutes. "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Harry. Let it out. You're safe. I'm here. I'm really proud of you."

Those words triggered a new wave of deep sobs and tears. Harry pressed his face deep into Snape's chest. He could feel and hear his strong heartbeat, and he could smell his earthy, spicy scent. The smell triggered a flashback to the day he first smelled it, when he was rummaging through the man's wardrobe looking for his cloak. He breathed it in again and it calmed him, because now the smell reminded him that he was safe, wanted, loved, looked after.

Snape continued. "Sometimes the hardest thing to do is to face things head on. But you won't do that alone, I promise. We both have a lot of healing to do, and we will do it together. Asking for help doesn't make you weak, it makes you stronger. And I will be right there with you."

Harry nodded and for the first time, he lifted his head up, embarrassed that he'd left copious tears and trails of mucous all over Snape's shirt. The air outside of his Snape cocoon felt cool on his face and he took a deep, shuddering breath of the fresh air.

"I don't want to." His voice came out like a small child as tears continued down his face.

With a calming hand on the boy's head, Snape adjusted him so he could see his face and look in his eyes. "I know you don't, but you're going to do it anyway. And that is why I am proud of you."

Harry returned the hug, this time wrapping his arms around Snape. He stayed that way until he'd calmed down enough to separate himself. He wiped his nose on the back of his arm and then ran his fingers through his sweaty hair in a tragic attempt to put himself back to rights. He took one look at Snape and a smile creeped onto his face.

"You look like a mess, you know," Harry pointed down at the man's wrinkled, tear-stained, and snot-covered shirt in mock disgust, putting on his best "professor" voice and reprising a speech he'd been given a few times. "Disgraceful. You really ought to take care of that. I won't have my mentor walking around looking like disheveled transient. It reflects poorly on me as an apprentice."

Snape pulled out his wand and silently spelled himself clean while raising a disapproving eyebrow. "Very cheeky, Mr. Potter. Clearly someone is feeling better."

The boy smiled and then sniffed deeply. "Yeah, I'm alright now."

"Good. Why don't you wash your face and then maybe take a rest, its been a long day and you've been working hard all week."

In reality, that whole scene had been extremely jarring for Snape and he needed a moment, alone, to compose himself. He also knew that kind of emotional release could leave a person feeling like a rag doll and sooner or later, Harry would want to pass out.

"I'm fine now, really." Harry replied.

"It wasn't a suggestion. Go on." Snape took him by the shoulders, turned him around and gave him an encouraging pat on the back in the direction of the washroom. "Maybe a nice warm bath would relax you."

When the bathroom door clicked close, Snape sat down and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes, leaned back and reached up to massage his forehead. He knew if he was going to help Harry through this, he was going to have to face a lot of his own demons and past traumas, and he wasn't honestly sure if he was ready to do that. But he knew he didn't have a choice, he was responsible for someone else now and he took his commitment seriously. He'd ring Dr. Roderick in the morning.

The next day, Harry awoke feeling lighter than he had in ages, it was like a giant anvil had been lifted off of his chest. Snape had sent him to bed early the previous night with a calming draught (and a bedtime story) and he'd slept a solid twelve hours. He jumped out of bed and stretched, bounding happily into the parlor to inquire about breakfast.

"Good morning!" Harry said excitedly, before plopping onto the couch.

"Good morning. Well rested, I see." By contrast, Snape had barely slept at all, worrying about everything and beating himself up for not taking better care of Harry's mental health. He had been deeply affected by Harry's breakdown yesterday and had reached out early this morning to set up an appointment with Dr. Roderick, the mind healer.

"Yeah, I feel brilliant. Starving though."

Snape nodded and got up from his chair, arranging his papers carefully on the side table before bringing his empty mug into the kitchen. "Come along then, we'll make some breakfast."

They ate a leisurely breakfast of eggs, porridge, and fresh fruit and then Harry got to work on his assignments. He was getting better at working independently, which freed time up for Snape to write up his new research papers.

But Snape was struggling to stay focused this morning. He wished that Master Barclay was there, but alas he'd agreed to let the older wizard enjoy a short holiday after the weeks of late nights brewing Harry's recovery potion. Snape couldn't quite remember where he said he was going, he just knew he'd set off on some posh holiday at Lake Como or the Riviera with his two daughters and grandchildren. Snape would have to make do on his own for another few days.

After lunch, they returned to the lab where Harry continued to work on amassing and bottling his ingredients. Although it was technically Harry's project, Snape would occasionally step in to help, otherwise he was sure they'd never get it done in time. Snape's goal was to finish up by mid-July so that hopefully he and Harry could spend a few weeks in retreat before returning to Hogwarts to prepare for the new term. They also still had to plan for his Apprenticeship Bond, which they would do as soon as Barclay got back. There was a lot on Snape's shoulders.

"What time will Patrick be here?"

Snape looked up from his lab notebook and glanced at his watch. "3:30. You still have some time if you want to harvest anything from the garden before he arrives."

"I want to talk to him."

Laying down his quill, Snape closed his lab notebook and turned to face Harry. "I don't think that's a very good idea. It is probably best if you just avoid any confrontation for the time being."

Harry looked at him with resolute eyes. "No, I've thought about it a lot. I just want to talk. I think it will help me."

Snape exhaled and dragged a stool closer to Harry and sat down so he was at eye-level. "I told you I would support you in whatever way you wanted to handle things with him, but you might want to wait until you've done some more healing." And by healing I mean therapy. Therapy! You should probably have run this by a therapist first, but your useless guardian didn't set it up for you yet.

Harry shook his head. "I just have a few things I want to say and that's it."

"And if he doesn't respond the way you hope he will. Are you prepared for that?" Snape asked, concern evident in his voice.

"It doesn't matter, these are things I need to say. For me."

With a slow exhale, Snape replied. "Very well. Would you like me to be there with you?"

"No, I want to talk to him on my own."

Snape nodded. "I will set him up outside to work and then you can go out and speak to him whenever you're ready."

"Thanks," Harry said and turned around to focus on the five vials he was preparing on his bench.

Snape sat there for several moments unsure of what to say or do. He fiddled with a nearby potion stirrer while he contemplated the situation carefully. "Do you want to rehearse what you plan to say or run anything by me?"

Harry shook his head and continued labeling the vial he was working on. "Nope, I'm good."

"Do I need to be concerned about fists flying or anyone bleeding?" Snape tapped the wooden stirrer nervously against the side of his leg. Harry wasn't generally a violent type, but he'd seen him lose his temper and get into scuffles at school before. His emotions were high, anything was possible.

With a shrug, Harry replied without looking up, "Don't think so, but who knows with Patrick. Never a bad idea to have a blood replenishing potion on hand."

"Harry…" Snape's voice dropped low. "Stop what you're doing right now and look at me."

"What?" Harry snapped, irritation in his voice, "I'm trying to work, I said it will be fine."

Exasperated, Snape stood up and plucked the bottle and quill out of Harry's hand and placed them on the workbench. He grasped his chin in his right hand and stared him in the face. "I would feel better if you would share with me what you're planning to say so I can make sure I'm not making a mistake by allowing you to be alone with him."

Harry jerked his face away, "And I would feel better if you stopped hovering over me so I could get some work done."

Without a moment of hesitation, Snape snapped his left wrist and the potions stirrer he was holding smacked Harry smartly on his right sit spot with incredible precision. "Mind your cheek."

"Oww!" Harry's hand flew to rub his bum. He turned slightly to scowl at Snape and stare him dead in the eyes, defiance raging through him.

"Now that I have your attention, would you care to reconsider your answer?" Snape felt quite pleased with that little redirection. If he was honest he'd let a lot of Harry's attitude slide lately, and the boy was becoming all too comfortable with rude answers and talking back. He knew he needed to reign it in but he was struggling to be firm with him.

"Not particularly," Harry mumbled, somehow undeterred by the first smack as he reached for his quill once more.

With another flick of his wrist, the potions stirrer smacked Harry again, harder, in exactly the same spot, Snape hoping that might get through to him.

"OW! OK OK, I'm sorry…." Harry jumped up and rubbed vigorously where he'd been smacked before, finally deciding to turn toward Snape so his bum was out of further reach. "That really hurts you know."

Good to know, Snape thought, filing that away. "You would do well to fix your face and mind your tone. I know this is a difficult topic for you to talk about, but I will not tolerate any more of your insolence or backchat. If you've forgotten how to behave appropriately, perhaps a trip over my knee will further assist you in remembering your manners. Do you understand or do you require further clarification?" He tapped the stirrer ominously against his own leg.

"Yes, sir, I understand. No sir, I don't need any more clarification." Suitably chastised, Harry's ears and face burned red at the rebuke. It had been a while since Snape had smacked and scolded him like that, and he immediately felt like a little kid again. "Sorry."

Snape nodded and set the stirrer on the bench, taking a seat back on his stool. "Now then, let's try again. Without the cheek."

Harry paused for a moment, gave his bum another rub before returning his attention to Snape. "What I want to tell Patrick…well, it's kind of embarrassing and dumb, OK. I don't really want to talk about it, so can you just trust me? Please? I promise I won't start a fight or anything."

"I trust you, Harry. I just want to help. And I want to make sure you don't find yourself in a situation that is even more complicated and painful for you to deal with. Why don't we pause here and take some tea upstairs."

Harry nodded and the two of them headed up the stairs to the parlor.

At 3:30pm on the dot, Patrick rang the bell. Snape met him at the doorway and walked him to the back garden where he'd set up a bunch of garden tools. "Your task for today is to dig a hole. A large hole, in the back garden, where I intend to put in a pond and a water feature. As you can see, I have outlined it already, your job is just to dig."

"Yes, sir." It was the first time Patrick had seen Snape since their little "chat" a few weeks ago, and his ego was still clearly wounded. He could barely make eye contact and was being extremely compliant.

Snape was pleased that the boy seemed primed to work without any fuss, so he nodded his head and walked toward the back door. Once inside, he settled on the couch in the parlor where Harry was waiting anxiously.

They sat in silence for several minutes and sipped tea, Harry hunched over, his legs jiggling frantically while he fidgeted with his hands.

"You don't need to do this, you know. If today's not the day, that's perfectly acceptable." Snape put a reassuring hand on Harry's leg, attempting to calm the nervous movement.

"No, I need to do this. I'm ready." And with that he stood up, smoothed his hands down his trousers, shook out his hands, and exhaled audibly.

"Take another deep breath," Snape instructed. "In through your nose, out through your mouth."

Harry stood still for several minutes, breathing and trying to gather his courage before he finally walked toward the back garden. He opened the door and closed his eyes, bathing in a small ray of sunshine that covered his face.

When he opened his eyes again, he could tell Patrick was looking at him, but he continued to dig, not wanting to give Snape any reason to lecture or scold him.

With slow, deliberate steps, Harry approached the blond boy, who by now was covered in sweat and dirt and in a ditch a few inches beneath him.

"Hi."

Patrick looked up, wiped his face with the bottom of his shirt. "Hi Harry. I don't know if I'm supposed to talk to you. Your dad wants me to finish this part of the dig before I leave today." He swirled his hand around a shallow area of the future pond.

"It's OK, he knows I'm out here talking to you." Harry fidgeted slightly, but he was gaining confidence by the minute. Patrick seemed different, more subdued somehow. He didn't seem at all like the cocky rugby lad he'd known before. Was that Snape's work?

"Oh." Patrick put down the shovel and sat on the edge of the ditch. "Wanna sit? I need a little rest, the ground is harder than it looks."

Harry shook his head. "Nah, that's OK. Don't want to get my clothes dirty, my dad might have a fit," he smiled, hoping to break the ice.

"Haha, yeah. I get it, I wouldn't want to make him mad, either…learned that lesson the hard way…a few times." Patrick's face turned pink just remembering how he cried and screamed like a toddler the last time he'd seen the man. He was mortified at the memory.

Harry had no idea Snape had spanked the boy, if there was one thing about Snape, he was extremely discreet. Except in the rare circumstance where he purposely wanted to make an example of someone (and in general this was older students who had abused their authority or put others in harm's way), he almost always punished in private. Despite prodding, he never ever discussed student's punishments with anyone— not the Headmaster, not other teachers, and certainly not other students. He felt strongly about maintaining that confidentiality, it was part of his code.

"Believe me, you don't know the half of it. You're lucky you're just doing chores. I mean, not lucky, but you know what I mean. I wish that was all he could do to me," Harry joked.

"He whacked me, you know. Like, walloped me good 'n proper. Not cuz of what I did to you, but for some other stuff. But still. It was awful. And he made me stand in the corner for ages and write lines. Your dad is no joke, mate."

Yep, that sounds like Snape. But the look on Harry's face began to morph into one of pure shock. It took a moment to register, but had he heard the boy correctly? Snape spanked Patrick and didn't tell me? That sneaky git! He would have been angry about it, but he was too pleased imagining the bratty blond finally getting his comeuppance. His mouth was hanging open in disbelief and he had to catch himself before he smiled too overtly.

"You're lying." Harry didn't know what else to say. "No way."

"No, mate, it's true. But don't tell anyone else, it's embarrassing. Getting smacked on the bum like a little kid. I only told you cuz I thought maybe it would make you feel better. I'm really sorry about everything that happened. And not just cuz I've been punished, either, I still feel really really bad."

Harry kicked at a rock, fidgeting slightly, having difficulty looking Patrick in the face. "I know. I could tell that day you came to the house…that's actually what I wanted to talk to you about. That day I told you I forgave you, I really only said it cuz you were so upset. And I didn't want you to keep hating yourself. I did it so you would feel better."

Patrick nodded his head and sniffed, trying not to let tears fall. "Yeah, I figured you didn't mean it. It's OK, I get it."

"What you did really hurt me. Not just because I almost died, but because I felt really betrayed. I thought you were my friend. And I don't have a lot of friends right now."

"Yeah, mate, I know," Patrick wiped away a few tears with the back of his hand. "I think about it all the time, and I don't understand what made me do that. I was angry about a lot of things, and I took it out on you. I regret it every day. I don't know what's wrong with me but I'm really sorry. I know I don't deserve to be forgiven. I wouldn't forgive me either."

Harry walked down and sat next to him on the edge of the ditch.

"Mate, don't! Your clothes! I don't want you to get into trouble cuz of me!"

Laughing and brushing the dirt of his hands, Harry turned to the boy, "Nah, he won't really be that mad. After all I've been through I've got him in the palm of my hand, he's a total softie now when it comes to me, he lets me get away with anything." He gave the boy a small wink. Liar. You better hope Snape never hears you say that, you just got smacked with a potion stirrer a few hours ago.

Harry swung his legs back and forth and stared into the dirt hole. "No, but that's the thing. I didn't really mean it then, but I mean it now. I forgive you. For real."

Patrick didn't know what to say, he bent his head down and let a few more silent tears fall, sniffling and trying not to rub dirt all over his face. "I really am sorry."

"I've done dumb things and put people at risk before too. I mean, not on purpose, and not to be mean, but I've made mistakes and done things without thinking. A lot actually. I almost got my best friend killed last year trying to do something I shouldn't have done. I just want you to know I really do forgive you. You don't have to beat yourself up anymore. Just maybe, be a little nicer to your friends. And your mum."

"Yeah, I know." Patrick blushed a little with shame but then put his dirty hand out in a gesture of friendship before he realized just how filthy it was. "Sorry… maybe we can just do an elbow bump?"

Harry gave him an elbow bump before turning back around to look at him in the face. "Did he really smack you?"

Patrick laughed, "With my old table tennis bat. Couldn't sit for days." It was a definite exaggeration, but in all honesty Patrick did wallow for an entire week, complaining he couldn't sit or get out of bed because of the pain. Despite Snape's advice, his mum felt bad and coddled him a bit, but at least he'd stayed out of trouble since then. Mostly.

Harry couldn't help it, he chuckled a bit and shook his head in disbelief. "I'm sorry, I just still can't believe it."

"Sod off, it wasn't very funny at the time." Patrick gave Harry a playful push.

"I thought you were a tough rugby player, don't you get hurt all the time? It can't have been that bad."

Patrick stared him down dramatically. "You have no idea mate, it was brutal."

Harry knew Snape well enough to know that he would never go overboard, especially with someone else's kid, but he let Patrick tell his sob story. "Well, I'm glad you survived."

An awkward silence passed between them with that phrase. They both fidgeted for a minute before Patrick finally spoke up.

"How are you, by the way? Your dad said your nerve damage is better, are you OK now? Like, back to normal and stuff?"

A lump formed in Harry's throat, his smile fading quickly. He started to hear his heartbeat in his ears, and his palms started sweating. He swallowed hard and tried to act normal. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine now. All better, my dad took me to all kinds of doctors and physical therapists and stuff and they were finally able to heal me."

"That's cool, I'm glad you're OK."

"Yeah…anyway, I'm sure I'll see you around. I need to go finish some school work." Harry ended the conversation abruptly because he could feel the bile rising inside of his throat, he needed to get out of there, fast. His heart was racing, his hands were shaking, and he felt like he was going to puke.

Patrick was starting to reply when Harry pushed himself up suddenly and started walking with singular purpose toward the kitchen door, but within a few steps his vision began to darken and he felt like he couldn't breathe. For a moment he thought he was going to pass out so he kneeled down on the grass, not quite making it to the door. "DAD!"

He put his head down for a moment before he took every ounce of energy he had and yelled out again, clutching at his throat, straining to breathe. "Dad!"

The kitchen door flung open and Snape saw Harry, curled up in a ball on the grass, gasping for air. "Harry? HARRY! Harry, what's wrong!"

Snape bent down on the ground and lifted his head, while Harry clutched at his thighs, "I can't breathe, I can't breathe! Help me!"

Please Review!

Sorry to leave you on a cliffhanger (and sorry I'm a little rusty)- but thanks for reading! Your comments and encouragement are what keeps me at it. I'm super excited to be back with this story, I'm just praying someone out there still wants to read it!

My plan is to wrap this fic up in another chapter or two- but the good news is that I've already started writing the sequel. I have the first chapter written and several more mapped out. Can't wait to get Harry and Snape back to Hogwarts for Year 3- SO much mischief ahead!

Please please let me know if you're still reading this, say hi, leave a comment, let me know how you want to see this end, tell me about your cat or your holiday. Anything!

Your comments and encouragement literally kept me alive during the darkest parts of my own healing journey. Thank you for reading and being a part of this ❤️