Severus woke up unrested. His keen instincts alerted him to the steps approaching from the upper floor. He glanced at Potter to see the child sleeping, sitting on the floor, head resting on his folded arms over the coffee table. The steps grew nearer to the stairway and he grabbed the boy's cloak, draping it over him.

"Hmm?" Potter shifted slightly under the cloak.

"Shh!" Just then Black came down the stairs with Molly Weasley. Molly went to the kitchen quietly, the dog however saw him awake and came over.

"You're conscious then. Your master overtly angry?" The sound of clattering kitchenware could be heard. He could have stayed and made the other show his nasty personality in front of the boy but he decided that the boy had too few adults to look up to as it was.

"Don't bother showing me out Black." He got up to leave.

"What did he want? Anything about Harry?" Black asked. Severus knew the boy was paying attention now.

"Only the usual." He shrugged, putting his cloak on.

"What about that cursed prophe-"

"I will tell Dumbledore what needs to be said Black! Not you." Severus hissed, walking out hoping the boy wouldn't figure out what the dog had meant.

"The prophecy is about him! We need to know if he's close to getting it!" Curse the blasted dog.

He took a deep breath to calm down and turned to face him. "He is not. He did not ask about the prophecy. He asked about Potter's whereabouts. Obviously even if I was a traitor I would not have been able to tell him anything." Severus said clearly. "I must notify the headmaster, I will clarify any further doubts later." He hoped Black was stupid enough to ignore the out-of-character promise, and hoped that the boy would get the hint and wait patiently.

He made his way to the narrow corridor that led to the outside door. Black didn't follow him. "What prophecy?" he jumped and turned, his wand in a firm grip. He wacked the invisible boy across the face.

"Blasted Potter! Don't sneak up on me!" he hissed ripping the cloak off, checking the boy's face. His cheekbone had a bright pink patch that looked like it would bruise. He passed his thumb over it. The boy winced.

"I'm fine…" He pulled his hand back, surprised at himself.

"I did not mean to strike you. Go back, do not do anything rash." The boy nodded with a frown. It was clear he wanted to blurt all his questions now. With annoyance flaring in his chest he turned around and opened the door. The boy better listen and keep himself out of trouble for once. With that thought in mind he left, without looking back.

oOoOoOo oOoOoOo oOoOoOo

Harry grumbled all the way up to the room, keeping under the cloak until he was back in his bed. Despite the dull ache to his cheek, he was feeling pleased. They got to talk when he couldn't sleep. The potions master didn't make him leave. The other accepted the tea and biscuits as if he hadn't been angry at all with him at his earlier outburst. The memory embarrassed him a little, making his cheeks flush and making him start remembering random things, any random memory that would make him forget the embarrassment of what he did in front of everyone. On Christmas Eve of all times.

But why? Why was it becoming so important to be liked by him? He couldn't get attached to Severus Snape! He had Sirius already. Yet… he found himself missing the secretive man's grouchy, sarcastic personality. And it was strangely gratifying to see someone who despised him so much changing his mind.

But… this was the way it started with Emwood. He was happy to get so much attention from him and now…

Harry felt his skin start crawling, his stomach twisting and his throat tightening. Snape knew all of this… was he getting disgusted at Harry's friendly behaviour? How could he not? After everything he'd seen.

"Harry?" He didn't stop to reply to Ron as he bolted off the bed, grabbing the bucket in the corner of the room by its sides, hurling and emptying his stomach into it. He heaved several times, calming down for a little while only to throw up bile stained water once more. He vaguely felt Ron's hand on his back to soothe him. Except his mind wasn't accepting that and he swatted the hand away.

"Don't touch me!" He snapped, not looking up, his voice hoarse from the acid at the back of his throat.

"… I called mom, she's coming…" he heard Ron say before the redhead stormed out and slammed the door. Harry felt lonelier than ever. But he couldn't hold Ron to blame. Ron didn't understand what was happening.

Harry dry heaved once more, giving off a pathetic whine before Mrs. Weasley came over with soothing words and a calming herbal tea. Harry didn't accept the tea. Though he promised to take it. He just wanted her gone. He said nothing as she rubbed his back, leading him to the bed. He said nothing as she placed a cool wet cloth on his forehead and told him to rest for today. He merely said a thank you as she left. And that was when he turned his face into the pillow and cried in silence. His entire body tensed in his desperate attempt to keep his sobs and whimpers contained within the four walls of the dark room. He curled into himself as the nausea wavered at his subconscious.

He shouldn't cry. He had no right to cry when he was alive and his parents dead. He had no right to miss the mother he never had. He had no right to be jealous of Ron for having such a wonderful mother to call his own. He had no right to cry when this entire mess was his fault. All of it.

He sat up drained, feeling like he would never feel anything again. He wiped his drying tears away and looked at the golden brew. He held it close and sighed softly. Camomile. He used to prepare this kind of tea for his aunt Petunia. He took a sip and sighed gently. It was good, but the memory it brought was bitter.

He wondered where Sirius was. He was in a real hurry to kick Snape out this morning but when it came to him- "Hey, good, you're awake." Harry looked to the door and saw Sirius balancing a tray of snacks on one hand as he closed the door. Guilt instantly hit Harry.

"Hey…" he mumbled looking at the candy. He didn't think he could manage anything sweet after throwing up.

"Here. Take your pick, and keep them hidden, Molly stopped me three times from bringing them to you." He said sitting on the side of the bed and Harry picked the mini chocolate frogs packet.

"Thanks, though I don't think eating candy after being sick is such a good idea." He chuckled. No one had ever taught him that. He learned from observation. Duddley would always get spoilt with sweets after getting sick and then would get even worse.

"Hmm… ideally we'd get you a potion, but in all our plans we forgot to prepare for a sick teenager. Unfortunately the closest thing we have is poison antidotes and they're too strong to give you just for nausea." He said ruffling Harry's hair. Harry chuckled softly. Sirius made him look up, holding his chin. "What happened there? You're getting a bruise." Sirius said petting cheekbone.

"Ah, I bumped my cheek rushing to empty my guts." He said. Sirius frowned. "It's fine…" Harry reassured him. "I think I'm ok now Sirius." He said sipping the tea.

"Good… now forget about that idiot Snape, I don't trust him anyway." He said. Harry took another sip of tea and said nothing. His silence must have translated into agreement because Sirius nodded and patted his head before getting up. "Alright, I'll leave you to rest. Get better soon." He said. Harry nodded and watched him go before sighing and putting the half empty cup of tea to the side. He pushed any thought of Snape away. Just imagining what the other could be thinking about him… made him want to crawl into a hole and never come out.

He would be happy never seeing the man again.