Hey guys,

Sorry it's been a while since I've updated, I'm super duper busy with camp and other activities.

Anyways I just wanted to say that I, personally, don't believe in slapping children but that this chapter is made from Harry's point of view, a suffering boy, trying to make light of a situation.

Also in the next chapter Snape may be a little out of character, sorry about that.

Anyways, on with the story!

Love you guys,

MissGallagherGirl

Thrwap. Thrwap. Thrwap.

The sound of that slap, that blow, kept echoing in Harry's head.

Had it really only been one day since it had happened? Already it had swollen, bruised, and scarred.

For a while it had looked like an angry, red, welt, but the next morning it had turned an ugly shade of dark purple with dark blue hues inserted at the very edges of the handprint shaped, lump.

After that lunch Harry had not even bothered making an appearance at his other classes.

The next day, Professor Filtwick decided not to pester asking why he had been absent, as he was present at lunch, so could pretty much predict the reason why and chose to simply ignore the matter all together, as he did not want to be pulled into whatever was going on between the two.

However, Professor Trelawney (who taught Divination and was the only other class he had missed) never showed up at any meals or events and was completely unaware of the predicament that took place just the other day.

Rumors spread fast around Hogwarts, as they did any other school, however seeing that the Divination classroom was so far up in the tower and located in an almost deserted hallway, gossip tended to travel at a slower rate up there.

Hence, when Harry had arrived he was not surprised to find that Professor Trelawney was unaware of the events that had taken place and consequently wanted to know,

1; why he was absent to her class yesterday, and

2; why there appeared to be a huge, hand shaped, mark on his left cheek.

Harry considered just telling her what really happened, after all she was bound to find out some time, however, he really didn't feel up to retelling the story so he decided to assure her he was okay, but that he wasn't feeling quite so well as of the moment and asked to be excused from her class once again.

She let him go back up to the Gryffindor common room, all the while mumbling about evil spirits and his poor, lost, soul.

Harry was about to retire to his dormitory when he remembered that he still had detention with Snape that night.

This is when the inner struggle began to take place.

Was he to go and face Snape so soon after there last encounter, or should he completely skip the detention all together?

Then again, Snape would just be angrier and eventually he would have to serve the detention anyways, plus what could possibly go worse now?

Snape had already physically hit him, he had basically assaulted him in a way.

But even Harry, loathe to admit it, knew he had deserved that slap.

Honestly the man had done nothing to him, he hadn't even insulted him, Harry was just angry and chose him to lash out at.

Probably a bad choice... but nevertheless what was done, was done.

There was no going back.

However, there was this sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Snape had only been worried about him... worried.

Who had ever before worried about the likes of Harry James Potter?

No one.

Dumbledore didn't necessarily worry about him, yes, he cared for him and every now and then was even concerned about him, but worry? No.

His parents would have... but that was obviously a lost cause to even think about, seeing that that wouldn't happen anytime soon.

Then there was Sirius, was he ever worried about him?

There was no denying that he cared and he probably did worry about him, but Harry would never know now, for he hadn't admitted it while he was alive and now it was a little too late.

Then Snape, who would have ever thought that Severus Snape would have been worried about Harry Potter, the Golden Boy, the Chosen one?

Yet, on his way up to the tower, two ghosts and three portraits had already stopped to tell him that Professor Snape had been looking for him just the other day, if he wasn't already aware of it.

According to the portraits, he had looked sincerely bothered and upset, even a little distressed while searching for the boy.

This is when Harry realized that he was pushing away the only man who had ever attempted to reach out.

He knew Snape for 5 years now. The man would never admit to caring, but Harry knew deep down inside, he did.

I mean, if he didn't why would he have saved his life countless times, why would he have thrown himself in front of that werewolf in third year, spell a counter curse to keep him steady on his broom in his first quidditch match, catch him mid - jump during his suicide attempt, etc.

Heck, the man even let him sleep in his private rooms that night, not to mention he cared enough about his health to force him to join one daily meal with him, so he could be assured the boy was consuming enough food and wasn't malnourished or unwell.

Harry had to face the facts, the man cared!

Snape would never, ever, admit it, but it was plainly written on his face, he damn well cared. And at this point of Harry's life he didn't give a hoot who it was to supply the care, as long as there was someone to give it, and to hell if that person was Snape.

Plus after he had slapped Harry, he did look regretful and remorseful. He probably didn't mean to hit him, he was just angry and his patience had run thin. Harry probably should have gotten that hint when the first painful grip on his hair was taken into Snape's fists.

He had tested the man, pushed him too far, and this time, for no reason either.

It was his fault, sure Snape engaged in the fight, but he knew that the man hadn't meant it to go that far, not intentionally anyways.

With that thought in mind, once again he decided he would make things right.

Turning around he made his way down to the dungeon, detention bound.