Now, it was Harry's turn to panic. He again began to fiddle nervously with his hands and looked at his feet and the floor, secretly hoping that the ground would swallow him whole. Silence fell upon them, and then more silence followed as Harry refused to break it.

Snape knew that he needed Harry to talk, and this method seemed to be working. An eye for an eye. 'Competitive little brat' he thought to himself. He hoped that something in that noble Gryffindor brain of Harry's would make the boy feel compelled to answer.

"What if I ask a question first to get you going?" Snape asked, staying true to his word. He attempted to add his usual snark, but it still ended up sounding, caring? Well, caring for Snape, anyways.

"That's fine I guess…" Harry mumbled into his hands, scared of his rapidly approaching doom. He had told no one before, not even Ron or Hermione. And now, here was, spilling his guts out to none other than Severus Snape, his least favourite teacher. His tormentor. 'He was your mother's best friend. And besides, what kind of Gryffindor doesn't keep their word. Answer his question.' his inner voice replied.

"When did it start, Harry?" The kindness of Snape's voice startled him severely, leaving him feeling slightly less on edge. His secret could, maybe, be safe with Snape. Harry sharply inhaled, allowed himself to dissociate a bit, and took a long pause before continuing.

"October 31, 1992. It ended May 29, 1993" The boy replied, almost mechanically. Tears welled up in his eyes.

"I-I noticed he was acting strangely, but I-" He took a pause, staring straight up at the ceiling in an attempt to will away the tears. He swallowed thickly.

"I ignored it. On the 31st, I didn't go to the feast. M-my parents died that night so I left. Lockhart knew- he knew everyone was too busy to care. He took me to his office, he told me he would get me something to eat. But he didn't give me food. He said that he saw the way I looked at him, that I was a tease and a s-slut a-and he put me in a body bind. He ripped my robe off, and then removed his clothes. And th-then h-h-he r-raped me." Harry began to wrack violently with sobs. In response, the professor moved from his spot near the fireplace, to Harry's spot, and crouched down so that he was slightly below the boy's eye level. He hoped that his smaller position would make Harry feel safer with the older man's presence.

"I felt so dirty, and unclean and I never wanted to see him again but then I had detention. And it happened again, but worse, and everytime got worse and- and- he started-"

"It's okay, child, I will not let him hurt you. Ever." Harry paused for what felt like an eternity. His breath hitched in his throat.

"H-h-he sold m-me."

"Sold you?"

"100 galleons an hour." He said quietly, voice a whisper so low Snape had to strain to hear. A stunned and befuddled silence fell over the pair.

"'m sorry for crying, professor."

"Do not worry about it, Harry."

"What happened to 'Mr. Potter.'" He sniffled back, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Right now, you are Harry. Not Potter."

And suddenly, Harry flung himself into Snape's dark robes, sobbing into his chest. Snape was shocked and stiffened under the boy's touch, not sure of what to do. He hadn't been hugged like that since his 5th year at Hogwarts by one Lily Evans. He didn't know what to do then, and he sure as hell didn't know what to do now. He settled on whispering kind words and rubbing gentle circles onto his back. After what felt like an eternity, Harry finally pulled away, again rubbing the tears away from his tear-stained face. His eyes were red and swollen, his eyes were glistening with tears threatening to spill out, and he was pale. Too pale.

"I'm sorry I'm acting childish."

"It's quite alright, you have every right to act in this manner."

"I've never been hugged before." Harry mumbled into his hand. Snape pretended not to hear.

"I don't think you are in any state to go back to your common room, and curfew has long since passed. I don't suppose that Umbridge would be thrilled to see you this evening." Harry shuddered. Snape took that as a clear no. He didn't need occlumency to see that much.

"Would you like to sleep here or in my guest quarters? Either way you are not leaving to Gryffindor tower tonight ."

"I'll stay here, professor." He croaked out weakly. The emotional exhaustion weighed upon him heavily, and he seemed ready to pass out at a moment's notice.

"Drink." Snape said, thrusting a potion vial with deep purple liquid into Harry's hand, shimmering in the light. Harry eyed it suspiciously.

"Dreamless sleep." Without a second thought, Harry drank the potion as quickly as possible. The cool liquid graced his scratchy throat, lulling him to a twilight state.

"G'nigh 'fesor." Harry said, before falling asleep once and for all. Snape transfigured a throw pillow into a comfortable, black blanket and carefully laid it over the boy. He gently cradled the boy's head, and slid a pillow from his own chambers underneath it, before placing the boy's head back down.

He took a step back, and calmly walked to his private quarters, and closed the door softly and quietly.

"Damn it, Potter!" He exclaimed, slamming his fist into the wall. His knuckles scraped across the stone, bruising his knuckles. Blood began to freely pour from his knuckles, his skin scraped. He punched the wall with his other hand. And again. And again. He stopped himself, realising what he had done. He sat down, and cradled his head in his hands.

What was he going to do with this boy?

—-

So sorry for the day's wait! I had a narrative essay due today and I wrote like 2,700 and something words for that so I barely had time to write this and still treat it with the care it deserves. Thanks so much for the continued support everyone!