A/N – OK lads, this is the next chapter up and running. My longest one to date, yippee :D I must apologise for the lack of action in this chapter as well. But some important issues had to be sorted out for Harry here before he could move on. I promise that, probably in the next chapter I'll be introducing my own character and the plot will hopefully be moving a bit faster. Please review and enjoy! ~silvermoonfae

Disclaimer – I do not own anything remotely related to the fantastic world of J.K Rowling!

Secrets of the Innocence and a Listening Ear

Harry had spent the last two weeks in the infirmary, trying to recover from the latest dose of 'tender loving care' he had received at the hands of his relations. In all fairness the pain was nothing he couldn't handle. As he had already emphasised, he had been in much, much worse, not including the being under the cruciatus curse. Suffice it to say that he had a high pain threshold, a very high pain threshold! However, it was the sheer boredom that was driving him to insanity. He had finished his summer assignments the day after his and professor Snape's 'heart to heart'. Surprisingly the answers seemed to come to him much quicker and instinctively than normal. But he really thought no more of it as the result of having absolutely nothing else to concentrate on here in the empty ward.

The Headmaster, of course had paid a visit soon after. Though he wasn't precisely angry at the Headmaster straight up, he still harboured some grief against him. The conversation was particularly one-sided and full of apologies. Though a truce had been issued, well it was enough to say that what left the infirmary that evening was a headmaster who seemed to have aged considerably in the space of a couple of hours, devoid of his usual twinkle and cheerfulness and a rather full bag of rocks, which Harry of course denied any knowledge of transfiguring the Headmaster's famed lemon drops. Sure he didn't have his wand in hand at all, and even the Headmaster admitted no incantation was uttered.

The highlight of his days had been trying to avoid any sort of serious conversations pertaining to his home situation with the regular visits of Professor Snape. Well, as much as he could avoid it by remaining stuck to the confines of his bed in the same vicinity of the man. So far, using all his Slytherin wit and cunning he had managed to evade it, which frustrated the King of Slytherin to no end and certainly provided some entertainment to the patient and something Harry was personally proud of. However, Snape of course had to burst his bubble, giving up after a mere week (a day more than what Harry had been betting on) and promising a serious talk for later on during the week. Today to be precise.

So now, he sat in his bed (yes HIS bed, Madam Pomphrey had engraved his name on a plaque above the bed due to the amount of time he spent here, or more specifically this bed) alternatively fidgeting compulsively and staring into space. Periods of depression such as these were becoming more and more frequent as time passed. He sank deep within his m9ind, dwelling on the bad and negative aspects of his life, which seemed like all of it to the child. He knew it wasn't healthy and knew Snape and Pomphrey were worried about him, but he could honestly say that he couldn't give a crap.

Sometimes the darkness in his life just seemed so overwhelming and he welcomed the oblivion in which his mind provided for him. He could be lost for hours amidst the swirling blackness until someone managed to pull him (more than likely it was Snape), mostly unwillingly, from his funk. And yet it felt like only minutes to him. It was just so easy to slip in, and forget all the past pain, forget about all his present troubles and problems, forget about eating, forget about sleeping, forget about all the necessary bodily functions, forget about everything and just let it all fade away within the solace of the darkness. He was safe there, no one could touch him, hassle him or question him. He revelled in the feeling . . .

And this was how Snape found him, some two hours later, staring blankly at the same spot on the back wall, barely breathing, barely blinking, barely doing anything at all for that matter. He recognised the symptoms well enough at this stage. He slipped away from them again and into his own mind. It was dangerous and could prove fatal, especially for the depressed boy, with the Dark Lord having access to his mind at certain times.

Snape sighed gently, he seemed to be doing that an enormous amount these days around the boy. Slowly he placed a hand lightly on the boys arm, calling to him gently. "Harry? Harry, come on, snap out of it. Come on back now." He shook his arm minutely, hoping not to disturb the boy, yet knowing he would more than likely react anyway. He was correct as usual.

A slight jolt and instinctive flinch and wince and Harry was back to reality, no worse for wear. A bit dazed perhaps, as he tried to get his bearings. Then understanding dawned upon him and he flushed lightly, embarrassed and turned to his professor. "Ugh, sorry professor. Again?" At his slight nod, he groaned and covered his face with his hands. "Great!" he muttered sarcastically.

"You do know what I'm here for this time, don't you Harry?" Snape reminded him. "We've put it off for long enough now and your are sufficiently recovered for it. You are only allowed to leave this . . ." and here he wrinkled his nose distastefully " . . .prison if we have this talk."

A louder groan issued from the boy and he sunk down, trying to make himself as small as possible. After a few minutes and recognising the futility of his actions, he became more complacent and sat up a bit, with only the slightest discomfort showing at what was to come.

Snape thanked Merlin that there would be no scenarios today for the boy to practice his Slytherin side, whilst Harry was cursing him to the deepest grave for the rotten luck that seemed to find him all through his life.

"Harry, you know you need this. Madame Pomphrey told me you are withdrawing into yourself for longer and longer and it's becoming more commonplace. And it is becoming even more difficult to pull you from them." Snape told him softly. Harry just sulked, crossing his arms, not meeting Snape's eyes. "OK look, we'll just talk about one thing at a time. We'll pick just the one incident and stick within those confines. Today I just want to know what happened when we rescued you. Is that fair enough?" And with that Snape adopted an attentive poise in his chair, prepared to listen to the child's story, without any interruptions.

Harry fidgeted nervously with the bed covers, not daring to look up. He didn't like this. Not at all. He didn't want to relive that night but he couldn't forget it. It was branded into his very mind, reminding him constantly with random images from the incident flashing across his mind's eye at the most inopportune times. He sighed quietly, preparing himself mentally for what he was about to do.

Snape was attentive as ever, not being an undercover spy for nothing. He noticed how nervous Harry was, constantly fidgeting. The fear and apprehension shone on his face, which was pale. He was trembling, readying himself. This was going against every grain in the child's body, that much was evident and he couldn't blame him. He knew he would have to restrain himself from comforting the boy, this was going to be a traumatising experience as it was, any type of interruption could cause him to clam up completely. So all he could do was sit back and wait until the child was ready to begin. Which he would, but in his own time. And wait he did, A full hour, silently, not focusing on the boy in front of him at all, but pretending an acute interest in the objects around him.

After counting the tiles on the ceiling again, for a third time, he heard a whisper break the heavy silence, barely audible and clearly apprehensive. He was startled out of his reverie at the sudden, if quiet noise. He schooled his features and did what no other adult had ever done for Harry before, and just listened, simply gave him him his full attention and listened ". . . it was just like any other summer day, chores, little food, punishments if I didn't complete them on time or to their satisfaction." He didn't elaborate, clearly not wanting to give more information than necessary. Snape let it go, just happy that the boy was talking at all. They could work on details later, when trust had been built. "The only difference to the day was that it was my birthday the next day. Nothing special or anything, but I had a nightly ritual. Every night just before my birthday I would stay up 'till midnight." he stared off in the distance, the past events replaying out in his eyes. Snape just sat quietly, pretending he wasn't there. Trying to make the child as comfortable as possible.

"It started off the same as any other nights before my birthday. I would lay on my bed as comfortable as I could be. . ." something about the way he said that made Snape think he wasn't perhaps particularly comfortable at all. Maybe due to some recent injuries? " . . .counting down the hours, minutes and seconds until my birthday." He paused again, looking directly at Snape for the first time since he had started, pleading and begging with every nuance of body language he possessed not to continue. To just leave it be. But Snape just shook his head silently, urging the boy to have strength and faith to continue. Resignedly, Harry returned to staring at the spot on the back wall, just above Snape's left shoulder, and he continued shakily. "Midnight had arrived, my birthday, when – when all of a sudden," deep breath, "there was this eerie glow lighting up the room. Silver, like the pale moonlight that had fascinated me so. Then there was this unimaginable pain, worse than the cruciatus curse!" His face was screwed up in remembered pain, as he tried to organise his thoughts.

Snape was thinking about Harry's reference to the magic that obviously occurred that night. Even Dumbledore's sensors had registered it, therefore it was painfully obvious that the boy was telling the truth. It wasn't unusual for Wizards and Witches to come into their majority, their powers maturing, on their 16th birthday, and the fact that it was Harry's birthday and the eerie glow would attain to that. But the pain? It was more of a tingle for most Wizards and Witches, and for the more powerful it was an uncomfortable dull pain, like a throb. But unimaginable pain? Worse than the cruciatus? For that matter, where had the child experienced that unforgivable? How powerful was this child, if indeed he came into his majority? He arched an eyebrow thoughtfully. It was rumoured that Merlin himself, endured excruciating pain when he had reached his majority. But really? Harry? This obviously something which warranted an investigation once the child had recovered fully and was able to withstand such tests. For now, he had to concentrate again, as the whisper had drifted again upon his ears.

". . . tried to hold in the pain, suppress it internally, not to scream. It definitely wouldn't be a good idea to wake up Uncle Vernon at such an hour. But the pain had become unbearable at some point and I didn't even notice when my silent screams became audible." Another deep, cleansing breath and he persevered, "And that's when my Uncle came in I think. I don't remember much, just slipping into darkness when the pain became too much. However, the magic must have performed some sort of shield to protect me. For when I awoke, the shield had just began to flicker out of existence. I hadn't noticed my Uncle knocked out at the foot of my bed, he must have done something incredibly stupid for the magic whilst I was vulnerable for the magic to react as such. I was in pain now, but it had dulled to a bearable throb. And I didn't even notice him come round until the first pu-punch fle-flew," he stuttered and turned completely away from Snape. He felt ashamed. How could he have let, that, that muggle, beat him like that? It was all in the open now, no more speculations by anybody now. He had admitted it. He sucked in a sharp breath, kept his eyes closed, head bowed and proceed in a dull, monotone voice. "The pain was nothing I wasn't used to so I deemed it insignificant and took it silently until I was not unconscious."

He turned to Snape again, tears of shame glittering in his dead eyes. "That's it sir. That's all I can remember! No more this evening, just, no more." And completely drained, he slumped down and curled into a very small ball and rocked himself gently in comfort. It was done.

Snape was horrified at what had happened to the child. He glared into space angrily for awhile, vowing the ultimate revenge on the Dursleys. He composed himself and slowly and gently he placed a delicate potion-stained hand tentatively on the child's back, ignoring the flinch, offering what comfort he could.

Harry tensed, unprepared for any sort of comfort at all. But then he did something he had never done in almost 15 years. 15 long years and he finally succumbed to his emotions. And let them have control over him for once, and he let the first tears fall slowly down his face. It signified a new beginning, a better one, yet a long road to it. Everything at the moment was just overwhelming, his pent up emotions forced to be held in check by his damnable relations finally were releases like a whirlwind. He was sobbing now, quietly, something that would never change, but nonetheless he was healing. He was scared, someone was finally willing to give him the comfort he so craved but he was reluctant to accept for fear it would be taken away and all this was some harsh, cruel joke. He cried for everything that had happened to him, for his life. He cried for himself, finally!

Snape offered what comfort he could from the tentative tactile contact Harry would allow. But it was enough. His heart ached as the child broke down under the pressure of it all. He could see the internal struggle he was locked in with himself. But was relieved when the child finally accepted the comfort and the ability to just cry. He was glad, for the child needed to get it all out of his system, the hurt and the pain, or it would fester within him. He sat there for hours, as the child worked the virtual poison his relatives fed him out of his body, rubbing soothing circles on his back. Whispering constantly, "It's OK child, Let it out. Everything will be alright!"

HPHPHP

The next day Harry awoke with an acute embarrassment over his breakdown the previous day. And in front of Snape of all people. Sure he had proven he had a human side, but Harry couldn't help the seed of suspicion that remained over his previously snarky potions professor. However he had to admit, he felt a lot lighter, like an imaginary weight had been lifted from his chest after yesterday. He was mortified that he had blubbered all over his professor, but he had a warm tingly feeling from the comfort he received from the man, and hope had settled somewhere at the lack of snide or cruel remarks. Perhaps he was truly trying to help. Maybe this could work. And this revelation brought a soft, sad, yet hopeful smile to the child's face.

Snape paused in the doorway to the infirmary, a slight smile on his own face after witnessing Harry's own smile. It was good to see him smile again, something he confessed to himself he couldn't remember him doing for a long time until now. His eye's, Lily's eyes, they were made for smiling, as it brought an extra glow and twinkle to them, quite unlike the Headmasters and genuine in every aspect.

Schooling his expression, not wanting to scare the child out of his wits seeing the grumpy potions professor smiling. He approached the bed cautiously, making sure that Harry could track his every movement at all times. Though they had made a significant breakthrough yesterday, Harry still had to undergo a lot more healing both physically and mentally. No need to make the child any more uncomfortable if possible. He settled in his usual chair at the boy's bedside, amusement glinting in his eyes at he curiosity piqued in Harry's.

"The Headmaster and I have been discussing your situation as you know, you shall not be returning to your horrid relations. Therefore, it was decided you shall be staying here as it can offer you the next best protections after your Aunt's place." Unashamed joy lit up the boy's face. "However, you still have a way to go before you have completely recovered, though you shall be released from here in a couple of days. So you will need someone close at hand for the remainder of your recovery. As I am momentarily the only professor besides the headmaster in the school at the moment, we thought it would be wise for you to stay with me, particularly due to the Healer's training I have." The happy glimmer dimmed somewhat, but there were no protestations which somewhat bolstered the professor to continue.

"You shall have your own room, a schedule to follow and there will be a series of rules to abide by and punishments for any infractions." At the hint of fear that appeared with this statement he quickly elaborated, "However, and I shall reiterate this, I shall NEVER raise my hand to you or any other child. It will be more along the lines of your previous detentions. Is that acceptable?"

Harry nodded quietly. He was not thrilled at the prospect of bunking at the professors' and the fact that he needed a babysitter. But at least it wasn't the headmaster. He just wasn't ready to face him again yet. A potion-stained hand grasped his own lightly in support, while the other tilted his head up to meet Snape's eyes. He fought the urge to pull away and surrendered to looking the professor in the eyes, and saw the sympathy and determination residing there.

"We will get you through this, Harry. It will be OK." he assured with solid conviction. "Everything will be alright!"

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