Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter *gasp*

Chapter Six: Not So Different

When Severus next woke he sat up slowly and looked around the room for Potter. The boy was sitting cross-legged on the floor, chewing on the end of his quill and frowning at the parchment on his lap.

"Damnit," muttered Harry, flipping through his textbook in obvious frustration.

"Language, Potter," said Severus mildly.

Harry jumped. "Oh, hi, Professor," he said sheepishly. "You startled me."

"Obviously," said Severus. "What are you working on, Potter?"

"Your essay," grumbled Harry.

"Giving you trouble, Potter?"

"Er—a little," muttered Harry, embarrassed.

"Let me see," said Severus.

Harry gaped at him. "What?"

"I said let me see, Potter," said Severus. "What are you having trouble with?"

"Er—I don't understand the part about how the befuddling drafts work," he said grudgingly, bringing his work over to sit beside his professor.

Severus pulled the textbook toward him. "Well here's your problem right here. You're not going to find it in chapter fifteen."

Harry started at him. "Wait—are you helping me with my essay?"

Severus chuckled hoarsely. "I guess I am. Would you rather I died of boredom?"

Harry's lips twitched into a small smile but he said, "Professor, you don't sound so good."

Severus coughed. "Imagine that. Do you want help with your homework or not?"

"Yeah," said Harry shyly. "But don't—er—I mean—if you get tired..."

"For Merlin's sake, Potter, I am an adult, I can handle myself."

Harry bit his lip and stared at his lap.

"Oh, Merlin, Potter! I am not mad at you! Here," said Severus, pushing the textbook toward the boy. "Here's the information you're looking for."

Harry looked up at Severus. "Th-thanks, Professor."

Severus shook his head, why did the boy have to be so damn cute?

"Is there anything else you need help with, Potter?" he heard himself asking.

"Er—yeah—would you?"

"Yes, Potter," sighed Severus. "Let me see."

*****CTC*****

An hour later, Harry and Severus were still bent over Harry's homework, Severus patiently pointing out the parts that Harry had gotten wrong. As Harry scribbled an answer, Severus leaned back and rubbed his temples.

Harry finished his sentence and glanced up at his professor.

"Sir? Are you alright? Do you have a headache? We should stop..."

"I'm fine," said Severus, wincing.

Harry snorted. "Not hardly." He closed his textbook. "I'm tired of homework anyway." He looked at Snape again. "Er—professor? You look really pale. Merlin, I shouldn't have asked you to help me."

"Don't be daft, Potter," said Severus, not opening his eyes. "I offered to help you."

Severus felt Potter get up off the bed and then return a moment later. A cold cloth was pressed against his head.

"Here, Professor. Does this help?"

"Yes, Potter, thank you," said Severus grudgingly.

"Thank you for helping me, Professor," said Harry, almost in a whisper.

Severus reached out and laid a hand on Harry's shoulder. To Severus's surprise and slight disquiet, Harry leaned into his arm.

"Er—Professor?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Are you tired?"

"Not especially, no. Why?"

"Can I—can I ask you a question?"

"You just did," Severus pointed out.

"Er—another question?"

"Depends on the question," said Severus warily.

Harry swallowed; he knew this was taking him onto treacherous ground. "When you found out that—that my relatives beat me—" Harry flinched as he said this, and Severus squeezed his shoulder subconsciously. "Why—why did it matter so much to you?"

"Child abuse is sick and wrong, Harry," said Severus. He didn't like where this conversation was heading.

"You said—you said you didn't want to see another child abused like that." Harry fidgeted. "Professor, what other child have you seen abused?"

Severus stiffened. "It's none of your business, Potter," he said jerkily.

Harry knew he should drop it, but— "Professor? Who was it? Tell me."

"Leave it, Potter."

Harry rose up on his knees and looked into his Professor's face. His breath caught. He knew that look...

"It was you, wasn't it?" Harry whispered. "Oh, Professor—"

"I said leave it, Potter!" snapped Severus, wrenching away from the boy.

Harry sat there staring at his hands.

After a minute he said in a very small voice, "I'm sorry, Professor. I didn't mean—" He swallowed. "I'm sorry."

Severus sat there, wrapped in his own thoughts. Why did Potter have to be so perceptive? He had never told anyone...only Lily and Albus had ever know what had gone on at home when he was a child... And what a difference it would have made said a voice in his head to have had an adult to talk to when you were a child.

He turned to look at Potter. The boy had his head buried in his knees, his shoulders were hitching up and down. Damnit...he had made the boy cry.

Severus reached out and touched his fingertips to Potter's back.

"Don't cry, Harry," he said. "I can't stand tears."

Harry sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve. "Professor, I shouldn't have—you're sick and—how are you feeling?"

"I am feeling better, Harry," said Severus. "And—and you were right, it was me."

Harry scooted closer to his professor. He could feel the heat of the man's fever.

"You're feverish, Professor," he said, pressing his hand to Severus's shoulder.

Severus drew the boy closer to him. "I know," he said. He took a deep breath. "I shouldn't have reacted like that."

"I understand," said Harry.

"I know you do," said Severus. "I wish you didn't."

"Who—who did it to you?" said Harry.

"My father," said Severus quietly.

"Your father—?"

"It doesn't matter, Harry. It was a long time ago."

Harry rested his head on his professor's shoulder. Not knowing quite why, Severus let him.

"I guess we're not as different from each other as we thought, huh, Professor?" murmured Harry.

"No, I guess not."