Thank you BlueWater5, Zeugma412, and Elatinde!

A5mia: He really is learning, despite how hard he is trying to recreate a life for himself. Dawn has a bitter of erm…dark history, which is quite important for this plot. You'll find out more as we go along. Dawn is a joy to write.

Author's Note: Brace yourself for another significant chapter – apologies for another big one. I hope you enjoy the developments in this one!

"It's breaking my heart to watch you suffer. You're not listening to your heart. You're hearing it, but you are not listening. You know what you have to do. You know nothing will change until you do."

- Michael Michaelion

CHAPTER 30: Try

January 9th , 2003

[Harry Potter]

The week of school term resuming after the holidays, was its usual hectic chaos. Students from OWL to NEWT with a newfound panic about upcoming exams constantly hung thickly in the air. First years were still lost in the corridors, with immense difficulty in memorising the layout. Argus Filch was back to his usual grumpy self upon the new mess and crowdedness of the castle during their return. Peeves floated around in glee, scaring off any unsuspecting students, and at one point, tried to go after Varick. Much to Harry's amusement, Peeves succeeded, and an odd frightful yelp could be heard followed by giggling students on the second floor. Neville was beaming in happiness, upon his new life venture with Hannah, so he went about with a joyous spring in his step, much to Severus' visible annoyance. Minerva looked a little more well-rested, but her usual sternness settled back in rather quickly upon the arrival of the students.

The Christmas decorations were finally down, and the Great Hall was returned back to its usual glory, with its enchanted ceiling now adopting heavy floating, grey clouds.

Harry was becoming more confident within himself now upon teaching. He was worried at first that he'd leave his courage behind at home but found himself surprised by how quickly he sprung back into teaching mode.

But there was something strange that he noticed with Dawn in the classes they shared, that surely wasn't there before. She appeared different.

He had never seen Dawn so distracted in the time he had known her. Although she taught with the same vigor, the passion had since subsided and instead, she looked disturbed. She couldn't mask her emotions as well as Severus could, but it was obvious to how much more irate and moody she was. Every time she finished speaking, it was like she was staring off into space. Harry had to take over at times when her mind decided to uncharacteristically blank out.

Something had happened over the holidays. And given the current rumors that had strangely begun to circulate, he wasn't sure how true that may be. With Dawn's sudden change in demeanor, she knew more than any of them did.

According to some of the students, a Muggleborn was found dead. Just one, so he heard. That was as far as the rumor went, and no location or details were known. Not even The Daily Prophet could not get a morsel of an article, surprisingly enough. Harry had no idea what truth to it there was, but it did spark several questions. Dawn refused to answer them however and instead only answered academic ones and brushed the other ones off with a firm coldness. She sidestepped questions, even some asked by a few curious students at the end of class, but she shut them all down as quickly as they were spoken. She wasn't as chirpy and patient as she usually was, and that was indeed concerning.

Every time he'd asked, she'd always respond with, "It's confidential."

Well, fair enough. But considering the rumors that are usually horribly passed around Hogwarts corridors once the students returned, he couldn't help but feel anxious by that. No one knew a single thing.

And he knew she knew something.

With the end of classes that Friday evening, Harry made a beeline past the kitchens and sneakily packed away one of Severus' favorite desserts. He wasn't much of a sweet tooth, but there was a rare sweet he did fancy from time to time. Given it was Severus' birthday, he didn't want to forget. With a parcel in one hand and a box of sweets in the other, Harry briskly made his way to Severus' private quarters and rapt on the door, soon greeted by the man himself.

Grinning, Harry greeted him, "Happy birthday, sir!"

With a roll of his eyes and a grumble under his breath, Severus stepped aside allowing him to enter.

Harry turned to look at him with a smirk, "Oh, don't give me that. I knew what day it was."

Severus motioned to the sofa in the sitting room and both proceeded to sit in their usual respective chairs. He steepled his fingers, "I'm merely surprised you didn't make it such a big public fiasco."

Harry shrugged, "Because I know how much you'd hate it. Here – " He placed the two packages on the table in front of Severus, "I have a tray of lemon slices in there. I managed to save you a fresh batch before Gregory and Dawn plough through the lot. And the box, well…Open it."

Harry watched as the man gently opened the lid to the sweets, allowing his nostrils to flare over the sickly-sweet scent of lemon and cream, earning a pleased nod as he did so. Severus then moved onto the larger, silver box, removing its lid carefully. He pulled out several things, including a brand-new large tome, a letter set with a new quill of a magpie, and a small jar of glittering golden dragon scales.

As Severus eyed each item with interest, Harry continued to explain each one, "It's not much, really, but I bought the letter set and the quill – You told me you were running out of birchwood parchment, and your quill was a little worse for wear. Charlie had arrived back over the Christmas break with the dragon scales of one he found had passed – a rare breed, apparently. He says it was the Golden Aztec or something. And the book is from Neville. He wanted to pitch in and give you something."

Severus had already opened the book of South Asian Magical Herbs, and begun to sift through its contents, earning a very satisfied nod with each page he turned. Distracted with the new book, Severus finally forced himself to close it and set it down carefully on the table. He appeared speechless.

"They weren't necessary, but…I appreciate the gifts."

Harry smiled, "It's the least I can do. Hope no one gave you a hard time today."

Severus clasped his hands together on his lap, and leaned back within the chair, "Nothing out of usual. Mr. Bates was still giving me snark, asking more about my role in the War. If he could focus more on the class and less on irrelevant things, he would more likely be able to pass. How ever, he ended up in Ravenclaw, I'd never know."

Harry chuckled, "Well, they are nosey – "

"You were worse."

"I, well…Yeah. I guess I was."

Severus looked smug by the admittance, "Your constant realisation of how insufferable you were, never ceases to surprise me."

Harry laughed, "Well, it surprises me, too."

"Anymore reckless cheek and I'm permanently sticking bells to your broomstick."

"Hey, just because you can fly without one, " Harry's grin soon melted into a frown, quickly realising he had never really asked how that happened, "How the hell did you learn to fly, anyway?"

"From Riddle."

"He taught you?"

"Not directly."

"But…How?" Harry was dying to know, realising Severus had never explained it to him before.

"I am highly observant, " Severus' lips twitched into a cunning smirk, "Once I realised it was possible when I witnessed him perform such a feat, I studied in secret. I didn't want him privy to another skill I could possibly use against him."

Harry shook his head, his expression a mixture of admiration and shock, "I shouldn't be surprised with that, but I am...Can you teach me?"

"I most certainly will not, " Severus said, sternly, "You are adept on a broomstick, thus, leave it at that. You need no more skills to your repertoire in which could potentially get you into trouble again."

"Ah...Worth a try, " Harry laughed away the amusing thought, taking note of how relaxed Severus was in his presence.

It was welcoming to see, and he had only wished everyone saw Severus the same way he did. No one else was privy to how calm he was in his own space, with someone who accepted him as he was, flaws and all. If only the others knew the real Severus as he did and every day he marveled at how far the man had come from the moment he lay bleeding and dying on that fateful day. The secret to the man's survival and will to live was always something he admired so deeply within him. It was indeed a testament to the man's strength and willpower, that he was willing to see the rest of his life through. And he more than deserved that much. He deserved peace and he truly hope Severus felt as such.

"Severus? Can I ask you something?"

The man's eyebrow arched, "Yes?"

"What did you see? You know…During the last phase."

Severus hesitated; his eyes shifted, "I already disclosed that to you, did I not?"

Harry shook his head, unconvinced, "Not everything."

Severus appeared conflicted, opening his mouth to speak several times, but no words came out. A momentary pause passed between them, allowing the older man time to formulate a response. He took some time to glance into Harry's eyes but soon looked away with a crinkle in his brow. "I didn't really see anything. It was a peculiar experience, Harry. Visions, but not ones of the old crackpot, premonitions some Seers exhibit. For lack of logical explanation, they were more like…things I could only…feel. Emotions I didn't think I was capable of."

Harry sat, dumbfounded, "You're going to have to explain that one because I'm struggling to understand it."

Severus snorted lightly, "I, too, cannot construct any semblance of an explanation for it. I've been pondering back to it constantly ever since in order to conclude what it all meant."

"So, what did you…feel?"

"I felt - " Severus looked at the crackling fire, immersing himself in the sounds which seemed to soothe his nerves. He always looked away when he was unsure of himself, " - I felt…Content. Satisfied…Happy. There was something else I felt…Something new. Unfamiliar. Yes, I am fully aware of how ridiculous this all sounds."

Harry lowered his voice to a whisper, even though he knew no one else was there with them, "It's not ridiculous. I'll keep that between us, sir."

Severus gave a single, appreciative nod. His eyes burning for such longing that even Harry couldn't ignore, "I don't know what it is supposed to mean, but it felt…good. It made me feel human again."

"It's not impossible. I have hope for you, Severus. I always have, " Harry reassured, calmly, "So, err…How do you feel being back here? It's been several months now."

Severus gave a small, almost saddened smile at Harry's friendly gesture, "I realise I heavily detested it initially and it has taken me quite some time to settle back. Everything is different now and for that, I am relieved. Finding my place again has been difficult, but regardless, I'm glad I'm here and not at home wallowing in my own dangerous, self-destructive despair. That was not going to bode well for me. You and Minerva realised that long before I ever could."

"You knew it wasn't going to be easy, and you're back here doing good again despite its challenges. It's a new chapter for you. And I'm glad you're here, too."

"I don't want to be the person I was, " Severus whispered, soon closing his eyes gently, "I want to leave that all behind me. Who I was, should have been buried a long time ago…That person hurt far too many."

"That person would have been proud to see how far you've come, " Harry challenged.

Severus paused, responding the next with almost a frightful tone in his voice, "Without hope, that person would have had no will to live."

"He'd be furious to know that dunderhead Potter was now a colleague and friend, " Harry grinned cheekily to himself in his bid to deter Severus from his dismal thoughts, "I guess that's what we are, right?"

Severus' brows knitted together strangely in contemplation, "In a unique sense, yes, I suppose."

"I do prefer family, though, " Harry smiled nostalgically, "But that's also me being hopeful."

Severus grimaced, almost comically, "I was never this sentimental, before being stuck with you. You've warped me."

Harry laughed, "I won't be apologising for that."

With several further nostalgic recollections later, and a helping of fresh lemon slice ending with Severus hilariously dropping cream and powdered sugar on his cloak, Harry departed his quarters and commenced his after-curfew patrol.

This was Harry's least favorite part of the job as it was usually rather boring. He was subjected to his task once a week, rotating around with the other Professors. He didn't have to stay out too long, but he usually did the corridor rounds until midnight, then he was free to retreat to his own quarters. He wasn't alone in this duty of course. The Prefects from the other houses would also rotate, with one Professor required to be available. But the patrol duties often went uneventful – much to his relief – mainly deterring wandering students, Peeves, and sometimes the odd young couple finding a secluded spot to snog. As amused as Harry was by that, he had to sheepishly break them up, deduct points, and send them off.

Harry had to ponder how bad he was whilst he was a student, and until he was on patrol duty, didn't realise how serious they often were. Now all of the times Minerva and Severus caught him after hours made so much sense, but to his rebellious heart, didn't care to listen.

Now as a Professor, he knew better.

Rounding the corridor leading to the Grand Staircase, Harry heard an echoed shuffle towards the end knowing full well someone was there. The corridor led to the library, and Harry inwardly groaned as he raised his Lumos-lit wand and pursued the rule-breaker. As he jumped to a run, he heard the accidental dropping of what sounded like a large book and rounded the corner in time to find Cyrus Hastwell raising his hands in a sheepish surrender.

Harry sighed, "Cyrus – Mr. Hastwell – what are you still doing up? It's almost eleven."

The Slytherin bit his lip, "I was heading back to the Common Room."

"You know the library closes early, " Harry clenched his jaw, "Sorry, but I have to take five points off Slytherin."

"I know."

"Well, then you know better than to be out after curfew. Madam Pince is going to have a fit if she discovers you're taking books out without her knowledge."

Cyrus shrugged, "I was going to bring them back."

Harry's eyes darted to the books in his grasp, "What is so important you need books at this hour?"

The boy hugged the books closer to his chest, "Nothing, Professor."

Harry tried his best to relax the frown on his face, but he didn't feel that successful. His eyes darted to the brief words etched on its binder and all he could read were 'Defence of the Dark Arts' and 'The Art of Harnessing Light Against the Dark', "Cyrus…What do you need those for?"

"…Just some reading."

"Does your Head of House know?"

He shook his head, "He'll kill me if he sees me with these."

"Why would he kill your for them?"

Cyrus appeared to twitch a little nervously but refused to answer.

Harry ran his hands through his hair, "Look, I'm not mad. It's great that you are choosing those against the Dark Arts…But I really think Professor Snape needs to be aware of this if it has anything to do with the Campbells? If you have questions, I'm sure he'll be able to answer."

"But sir – "

"He's not going to bite, " Harry's lips twitched into a little smirk, but soon reverted back to his somber expression once he noticed the nervousness on the boy's face, "I'll accompany you back to the library, and you're going to put those back."

Without a word, Harry turned the corner with the Slytherin student and made a slow wander all the way back to the library. The boy, as he usually did, appeared troubled. It was almost like Harry had yelled at him and confiscated something so precious from him, but he couldn't leave such books in his possession, especially knowing full well those tomes were located in the Restricted Section.

He was relieved that they weren't books on the Dark Arts themselves. There was a reason those books were carefully sanctioned, and it was dangerous for any child to have any such information of the Dark Arts within their possession. Who knows what else he might find in them, considering the path Riddle took because of it, he just couldn't take any chances.

But the idea of this boy taking books on complicated protective magic rang alarm bells in his mind.

What ever did he need those for, to go to the extent of stealing them from the library in the dead of night?

"So, " Harry gently cleared his throat, in a feeble attempt to break the ice, "Did you go home for the holidays?"

Clutching the books tightly still, Cyrus shook his head, "No, I chose to stay. The Campbells went home so it was kind of nice not having them there. I had a relaxed holiday without having to look over my shoulder every day or worry about one of them slipping something in my drink."

"Were your parents worried?"

At the corner of Harry's eye, he noticed the boys' frown deepen, "Not usually. I – I don't like them much."

Harry felt a small breath knocked from him, as he continued walking by the students' side, "How so?"

"They don't care much for me. Or else, I feel they don't anyway. I never feel like I belong there, anyway, " Cyrus mumbled.

"They are your parents, they should care."

Cyrus shrugged, "I never knew my real parents. No one ever told me why, so I just assumed my parents never wanted me."

"I-I didn't realise you were adopted, " Suddenly Harry felt somewhat of a kinship with the boy. A familiarity he knew well.

"Apparently, I was adopted when I was about three and they were forced to rename me. It was a secret as to why. I never found out, and I don't remember anything before then."

What?

"I'm sorry to hear that, Cyrus, " What else was he supposed to say to that? He stopped just at the entrance to the library, and turned to face him, "I want you to seek one of us for assistance if you so need it, and you don't need to be afraid to do it. We can look out for you and Severus will be able to help you far more than you know."

The boy cast his eyes downward. Harry knew that look – the child was reluctant to accept it. Cyrus bit his lip, "No one can help me. I don't think Professor Snape would be able to properly understand."

"Trust him, " Harry urged, "He is supportive of you, but if you need guidance with it, your Head of House, or Professor Rheingold, or myself, can properly educate you with it. This is for your safety, alright? Not out of spite. These spells can go dangerously wrong."

Cyrus looked up and nodded, with a small smile of appreciation, "Thank you, Professor."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, "Good. Now go and return those books and get back to your Common Room at once before Filch catches you. And please take care."

Harry watched as the child entered the library, eventually leaving without another book in sight. He watched and waited until the child was out of earshot before he felt safe enough to complete his own patrol.

Cyrus Hastwell was indeed a mystery.

Adopted by parents who were forced to rename him? At three years old? Something did not seem quite right, and the idea alone bothered him. And being told he didn't remember anything before then, nagged at Harry that he may have been obliviated.

The thoughts were plaguing his mind all night, all the way until the time he made his way back to his own quarters.

Who was this child?

January 18th, 2003

[Severus Snape]

Heal.

He needed to heal.

Every time he thought of the word, the image of Fawkes' feather remained burned within his memory. The sole feather left in wake of the beginnings of his reconciliation and the healing he underwent with Harry after the war, reminded him that it was at least possible. Physical healing was far easier to undergo than healing of the mind. His thoughts, often erratic, left him feeling empty and hollow.

The thoughts were often dangerous. As dark as endless pools of black at the bottom of an abandoned well. He didn't know where they were going, but they never led to anything good. His memories were mostly bleak, albeit there were some precious, good ones. But even so, finding them within his darker crevices was almost an impossible task. In the face of the entity that gripped him daily, even at times they were difficult to capture.

But the doe. Oh, the beautiful, silver doe. His guiding light. The one memory that fuelled that being and became a symbol of her - Lily. A culmination of everything he had fought for in his life. With that, the doe also became Harry's symbol of light, too. That creature saved them both and lead them out of the darkness when it suffocated them. The memory in which that was fuelled, was one he never wanted to forget. Nothing else will be as pure as that.

Every day he held that memory close to his fragile heart, in the hopes that it alone would be enough to save him. As the days grew longer and lonelier, the darkness enveloped him, suffocating that one flickering flame struggling to stay alight.

He needed something else. Something else to keep him fighting.

Returning to Hogwarts…Would that ever be enough?

He wasn't so sure.

Harry had spoken to him the previous week regarding Cyrus Hastwell and the issues that arose from their conversation. His sudden interest in the Defence of the Dark Arts didn't alarm him at first, but it took him a moment to realise he was doing the opposite thing at his age and that never boded well for him. Harry was right in requesting that he needed see him about it, because if he was going to learn how to protect himself properly, it would be by his guidance.

But as with the other issue of a supposed identity crisis – that was indeed a deep mystery.

Why did he need such protection? Such books he had procured weren't even taught in the curriculum. They were complex, powerful, ancient charms and spells far beyond student level. Things he knew even his seventh years could never grasp.

That day seemed to escalate as the hours rolled on, and it was definitely not one of his best. He had been plagued by a splitting headache for the last few days, causing him to become more irate and more agitated. Everything seemed to bother him more than usual, and his mind seemed to be split into two in a haze of sharpness, not even a potion could be rid of. It drove him batty at times, even going as far as to accidentally swear loudly during breakfast in the Great Hall when he spilled his morning tea by accident.

Just before lunchtime, Severus encountered something he never thought he'd ever lay eyes on again.

He had stumbled upon Voldemort paraphernalia hurriedly obscured by scraps of newspaper and other books within the Common Room on his usual precautionary rounds and lost his temper. He deducted twenty-five points and yelled at the horrified sixth year, soon earning resentful glances from them for the rest of the day. He didn't care how deranged he appeared. What he found, caused his blood to boil and that was not acceptable. He had been dreading a moment like that for quite some time and he rarely made an appearance in the Common Room on a normal day. The current Prefects appeared not to be capable of doing their job, and he wasn't sure if it was because they were too afraid to tell him or perhaps they succumbed to it, too.

Either way, the incident left him seething with anger.

He refused to go soft on their account, somewhat of a new leaf turned or not. But his students were still afraid, and who knows what else they do behind his back? They were afraid of him – as expected. But Severus couldn't help but feel so withdrawn, even from his own students. He was at a loss, and a small nagging voice in his mind told him he wasn't worth the title of Head of Slytherin and did a far worse job than he even accused Horace of doing. He didn't know how to gain the trust of his own students and for that, he felt like an utter failure that even his own Prefects couldn't confide in him.

And now this had happened.

The following rest of the day had already sent him enough of a foul mood because of the entire situation for the week had been exhausting enough. Aside from issues pertaining to his students, he couldn't erase the distressed look upon Dawn's face within the Hospital Wing that evening. He had never known her quite to be so worried and that only caused him to become more curious as to what could have possibly rattled the experienced Auror.

Dawn had seen something and whatever that was, disturbed her deeply. He could see the hoodedness in her eyes. The once bright blue dulled darker and adopted less of its usual warmth. He had seen eyes like that before. Bright, inviting hues grow colder upon seeing something horrific. He saw it during the First and Second War. Young children forced to fight. Freshly recruited Aurors stumbling into unfamiliar territory. Death Eaters recruited and forced to witness and take part in true atrocities. Innocent young lives who had seen far too much death.

That look needed no verbalisation. He just knew. And he couldn't stop thinking about it.

But he could sense she had been avoiding him since and grew uncharacteristically cold with every other interaction with staff. At one point he had heard another student call her the Ice Queen behind her back, earning them a loss of twenty points from his own hand. But he had seen something else, the evening he assisted in healing her injury. Something peculiar and gave him more questions than answers. Whatever she was going through, people were beginning to notice. And with the rumors of the death of a Muggleborn floating around, things became even direr for her.

As the day grew nearer to its end, he was at his office marking a few last-minute essays – blast those six students handing in essays five minutes before the deadline - when he heard an almost timid rapt on the door.

At first, he considered not answering as his headache ebbed and flowed in waves. Pinching the bridge of his nose and hissing in slight discomfort, he clenched his jaw and decided to answer.

"Enter."

The door swung open and in shuffled Cyrus Hastwell, who squared his shoulders with some impressive confidence he had sworn he had never seen on him before. He had to wonder if he took a confidence-boosting potion or had simply been psyching himself up for hours prior. Either way, he was still intrigued by the sudden intrusion by a child he was in no mood to berate.

"Sir, I know you won't want to see anyone right now, but I'd like to talk to you. Urgently, please, " Cyrus' jaw tensed, with the corners of his lips twitching.

After a thought, Severus motioned for the child to sit, and he watched as the Slytherin obediently did so. He spoke, unmoving, "Go on."

Cyrus' eyes cast downwards, almost shamefully, "I'm sorry for what you found earlier in the Slytherin Common Room. I, ugh…They've been doing that for ages now, long before you came back. They keep sneaking them in, taking them from Merlin-knows-where. I threatened to go to the Headmistress one time, and they threatened to hex me if I did."

After a moment of taking in the boy's initial words, Severus placed his quill carefully aside, ready to give the child his full attention. He needed to know more about this, "What else have you seen?"

"Books on dark magic. I see them practicing it sometimes in the Common Room, and I tell them to stop, but…They get angry about it. Some of us get, well…scared, sometimes. One of the seniors made one of the first year's cry because of how afraid they were of it."

Severus watched as the boy's face drooped. He was quite evidently disturbed over this, the more he explained the situation. He himself narrowed his eyes slightly, "Professor Potter informed me about your venture to the library the other night."

The boy's shoulders slumped, "I didn't think he was going to tell you – "

"Defence Against the Dark Arts, as it appears. And not simple concepts by any means, especially ones not currently taught, " Severus spoke slowly and methodically, "You wanted to defend yourself in case they became dangerous?"

He nodded slowly, "Yeah. They just don't listen to me, and well, Slytherin is still the same as it has always been. The current Prefects aren't exactly allies here. They protect them."

Severus paused heavily for a moment, unable to peel his eyes off from him as though not to miss a single change in the boy's expression, "…Do you fear them?"

To his silent admiration, almost immediately, the boy shook his head, "No. But I want to stop this."

Severus was silent again for a very long while, deep in the ponderings of what the next step needed to be. Admittingly, he had often thought about the ways this could be combated, considering most of his students barely cared to listen to him anymore. Even now, most of them believed that Severus had abandoned them during the War, so the resentment there was ingrained far too deep. But he could not let this slide and he most certainly could not do this all on this own. And now to the think that it was confirmed his Prefects were hiding such an issue from him, he felt he had to take far more drastic measures.

But given this odd turn of events, he was rather impressed with the boy who summoned the courage to tell him this. In a rare way, deep down, Severus felt a sense of deep pride that there was hope for at least some of them.

Steepling his fingers together, Severus raised his eyes to meet the boy's – the nerves were evident there, and he tried his hardest to keep himself composed and less imposing than his usual. After he gathered his thoughts, he spoke the next with confident certainty, "Mr. Hastwell, you'd have my full support in my desire to enlist you as a Prefect for your Sixth Year, if you so feel up to the task?"

Mr. Hastwell appeared speechless, "I-I would be honored, sir. I'll try my best. I just…I don't want to see those things anymore. I don't want Slytherin to fall back into that trap. We've all been through enough of it."

"Your ambition to do so will be most beneficial to the House. You have eyes there that I cannot always have, and it is imperative I remain up to date on such problems again."

"Since you've been away, it's been…difficult. And lonely. For us."

"I know. I abandoned you all, " Severus said, quietly.

To his surprise, Cyrus shook his head, "No, you were dealing with much the same as we were. In a different way."

Severus was quietly touched by that. The truth to those words was something he never truly considered and from a student who barely knew him, seemed to echo what his heart felt. Those words rang painfully true – he spent so many years in pain even after the War, afraid to show himself, afraid to move on, and even afraid to live. The resentment many still held for him would always remain at the forefront of his mind, further reminding him what a waste of flesh he was.

Severus' eyes softened, dropping his guard a little for the child deeply wishing for his assistance, "Reversing the damage made by my influence during Riddles' reign has been a long-standing commitment and will continue to be. The Slytherin path was never an easy one to tread."

"Knowing that you're back with us now, is…reassuring, sir. Very much, " Cyrus offered a rare smile, and a sigh of relief, "The others will understand eventually, but it will take some time."

Severus took a moment to gloss over those words, allowing himself a small smile, feeling his heart swell a little. Without allowing it to linger, he nodded to the child, "You may leave, Mr. Hastwell. And do approach if those pesky Gryffindors go after you again, and I will give them an earful. That, I will not stand for."

The child looked grateful and breathed a sigh of relief, "Thank you, sir."

The child soon left the office, and Severus remained seated in this thoughtful reverie. His smile broadened once he knew he was alone, admitting to the feeling of finally doing something right. What he wished he did before. He still had a long way to go, and a lot yet to mend, but he was getting there albeit slowly.

One person at a time, despite how miserable he himself still felt.

After dinner in the Great Hall that evening, he quietly excused himself and left before the sea of scurrying students grinding his metaphorical gears. But his mind wandered, and he found himself straying from his familiar path to the dungeons. He did not yet desire to return to his quarters, so took the larger detour to attempt to clear his head of the events of the last few days. Dinner in the Great Hall was usually filled with nonsensical loud chatter and the echo of laughs across the hall became a little too much for him. Clinks of cutlery and glasses began to irritate his nerves and he found he couldn't bear all of the noise any longer.

So, he ventured aimlessly to somewhere quiet before the students' voices soon erupt down the corridors. He had no heading initially, but somehow, he was drawn yet again to the sounds of a ticking clock.

He was edging closer to the Clock Tower.

The corridor was quiet, and no student could be found, so with further courageous steps, he found himself in the Corridor of the Fallen. Plaques and portraits of students and staff lost in the Second War, as a testament to their bravery and their innocence. Each plaque gave a familiar name with a crest of their House and Severus wandered to each one slowly and quietly, respectfully bowing his head as he did so never having the chance to before. But as he continued, he was met with several portraits. And one he didn't quite prepare himself for.

Charity Burbage.

Severus' breath caught in his throat, lost within himself, scared to release. The portrait personified version of the woman whose death he had no choice but to witness in all of its horrors, looked at him as if nothing at ever happened. Those kind hazel eyes greeted him with a smile as she used to during breakfast and yet his face remained frozen in fear. His eyes burned and he felt them gloss with tears, but he willed so desperately for them not to fall.

He remained rooted to the spot, unable to gather the strength to move his legs. All he could see when he looked at her was her own face frozen in fear, sobbing as she desperately called his name for help before she was slaughtered before his eyes. Before Nagini…

He shut his eyes in the hope that when he felt brave enough to open them, his memories will stop taunting him. But his dark orbs opened to reveal the portrait mocking him with that innocent smile that did not deserve to get wiped away as it did.

They were friends…

"You saw her death, didn't you?"

Severus didn't even hear careful footsteps from behind him, but he could not peel his gaze away. He recognised that voice piercing through his mind. A voice he could easily find within a sea of insufferable noise and knew full well that it belonged to Dawn.

"Are you following me?" Severus said, in his feeble attempt to hide the tremor in his voice. He refused to look at her, keeping his eyes peeled on the portrait unnervingly smiling back at him.

"You left early from the feast, " Dawn moved to stand beside him. Her tone was patient and considerate, "You ate nothing, and you barely spoke a word. Even for you at your usual caliber, that is unusual."

There was a very long, heavy pause. He felt his heart beat painfully within his chest, thumping with every agonising breath he struggled to take, "There was nothing left of her - " Severus was close to dry retching, as the image of Nagini devouring her in front of everyone, flooded his fragile mind. It was sickening. The memory remained vivid and a permanent fixture within his broken mind.

It hurt to think about her unnecessary suffering.

And yet on that night, he had to pretend to be pleased about it.

"I'm sorry I asked, " Dawn responded quietly.

"There was nothing I could do...Nothing. She pleaded for me to save her and I watched like a fool, " His voice trailed to a pained whisper. And yet he still refused to meet Dawn's gaze, that of which he felt was already boring into him.

"You would have saved her if you could."

"I couldn't risk it. Too much was at stake. She didn't deserve this, especially with such a cruel and senseless fate. And yet she watched me at the height of my betrayal."

"She didn't know, nor was she supposed to. Don't blame yourself for this. Your hands were tied, " Dawn continued to speak softly, in which her gentle, compassionate tone of voice already brought him a small bit of comfort. Enough to trust her with the words that he held so painfully within for so long.

Severus gave a shuddered breath, "I know this. I know I had to do nothing, but the guilt will always be there. As with Albus, as with Lily Potter..." He winced, realising he went too far. He opened his mouth to speak again, instead shaking his head, appalled with himself. "Excuse my departure, but I-I need a moment alone."

"I can sit with you with you'd like…If you need company..."

"No. Alone will be most wise at the moment."

He finally turned to look at Dawn and in horror, realised tears were falling down his cheeks. Without another word and ashamed of himself for his sudden emotional display, he averted his eyes downwards and finally summoned the courage to leave. With long, quick strides, he made his way back to the silence of his quarters.

His heart constricted and he felt hollow once again. Empty. The entity came back to visit again. Because that's what depression does - it doesn't allow you to focus on the good and makes you forget what happiness is by reliving all your fears. You don't remember what it's like to be happy if at all it ever truly existed with him. Instead, all he could envision were the horrors in this life that became so prominent in his mind that finding a single flicker of light in the dark was the hardest task of all.

There was just too much pain to find that light again.

Tears can be so heavy, sometimes.

The weight of a single drop felt like an anchor, pulling him further down to the depths.

January 30th, 2003

[Dawn Rheingold]

Seeing him like that was something Dawn never thought she'd ever witness.

Dawn had been exceedingly worried for Severus all week since she found him trembling by the portrait of Charity Burbage. It was common knowledge that he was forced to witness her death, earning much sympathy from the other members of staff. One can only imagine what he saw.

She never had the opportunity to meet the woman, but she did know that Charity's position as Muggle Studies Professor branded her immediately as a target to Voldemort. She lost her life because of her desire to view Muggles as equals and during her open defiance – stupidly brave – she lost her life tragically because of it. It never occurred to her before, but once she found Severus, she realised he was the last to see her alive. And given the twisted and gruesome nature of her death, he was forced to watch.

She could not dare to imagine what that would have felt like, to witness a colleague's death, and be unable to do anything to save them. The rare, frightened look of anguish on the man shocked her to her senses, and realised he had never come to terms with it. He may have even perhaps avoided seeing the portrait since his return for fear of those emotions re-bubbling to the surface.

Her heart silently wept for him, and she didn't know how she could possibly help a man such as him. Always closed-off. Always wanting to be alone. Always dismissive of others trying to help. Harry had told her as such, but it was still out of character for Dawn to sit back and do nothing.

During the week following that incident, she had been keeping a close watchful eye on the man during meals in the Great Hall. He remained impassive, unreadable, and empty. His mood had taken an obvious plummet, from the considerably comfortable state he was in beforehand. She had expressed this issue with Harry a few days prior, and the young Gryffindor himself did not even feel up to talking with him. Harry said that he gives him some space when he becomes like this, because too much interference could likely make things worse. As worried as she was, she trusted Harry's specific advice as he knew him better than anyone.

She only wished she knew him enough to help in some way.

But another incident happened which caused her internal alarm bells to fire. Something unexpected had happened, and in shock, discovered some of her Gryffindors had arrived back to the Common Room from Potions class twenty minutes earlier. She tried to question some of them but was only soon met with panicked, uncertain gazes. One student was barely able to speak, but when she finally summoned up the courage to do so, she said that he had suddenly snapped and yelled at them all to get out. No one had ever seen him that angry since his return.

Realising something serious had happened, she bolted directly to the dungeons to the classroom Severus was supposed to be teaching at. As she swiftly rounded the corner, she heard a loud glass shatter against the stone wall. Entering the classroom met her with quite a shock. Severus was hunched over his desk, drawing in sharp breaths as if to try and calm himself. He was in a state of panic.

Dawn instinctively reached out to touch Severus on the shoulder, but he quickly flinched and drew back sharply as if she was Voldemort himself.

"Severus, it's only me – " Dawn tried to find the right words, but each one met with a frustrated growl from the man.

"Go away!"

She paused for a moment, watching as he began to pace. Dawn looked around the classroom to find things shattered on surfaces and a mixture of colored liquids and raw ingredients bled across the cracks of the cold, stone floor. Strings of herbs and animal parts a heaped mess in lumps from where they were once contained in jars. The workbenches were full of still-bubbling potions.

Dawn tried again, "Severus, sit, please."

Severus' pained face jerked upwards, briefly meeting Dawn's eyes, "Why are you still here? Leave me alone."

"When I realized my Gryffindors arrived back from Potions twenty minutes early, I sensed something was wrong. Granted, it took me interrogating four of them to tell me anything."

"I just need...I just need silence, " He breathed heavily, unmanaged.

She nodded, patiently, "…Alright, Severus."

When he realized she wasn't leaving, he shot her another sharp glance, "Alone, preferably."

"You know full well I'm not going to leave you alone in the state you're in."

Casting his view of her away, Severus stumbled to one of the students' tables and sat down. Dawn waved her wand, vanishing the half-finished potions bubbling furiously on the tables from the students and nearing disaster, along with the mess strewn across the floor. When she was done and gave Severus the silence he needed to calm himself, she noticed his breaths slowly began to settle. Deciding it was safe to do so, she slid into the empty stool beside him, cautiously watching his eyes droop with immense exhaustion. But this wasn't the physical kind of exhaustion.

No, this was far more serious. This one leaked and culminated over years.

Realizing she was still there, he soon buried his head in his hands, heaving a heavy sigh as if to try and release the tension of the long day. But it would not leave. His voice soon emanated a jumbled mess, almost as a struggling whine, "…I don't know what I'm doing…I'm not the same…"

"Why are you expecting to be?" Dawn spoke gently, "No one is the same after a war, Severus. You can't expect to come back and resume as normal."

"…I shouldn't be here…" Severus mumbled through his hands. Now he just sounded erratic.

"You shouldn't be alone at home, either. Minerva was worried about you and her desire to have you in close vicinity was to keep a safe eye on you and to help you back on your feet."

Severus removed his hands from his face and looked distastefully at the idea, focusing his gaze to the spluttered cauldron before him containing an unfortunate brew, "She shouldn't have bothered."

"She'd never forgive herself if you did anything to harm yourself."

"I wouldn't...I wasn't..." But Severus didn't look very convincing. He stopped himself before he could speak any further.

"Hey - " Dawn lowered her head, dropping her voice to a calming whisper ensuring only he could hear, " - It's okay to say if you did. None of us is going to judge you for it. We all want to help, and you shouldn't have to go through all this by yourself. It's not healthy."

"Stop patronising me, " His voice turned icy cold, as he finally shared her gaze. He looked lost behind those eyes; endless pools of black desperately searching for a morsel of light.

Ignoring the remark, she continued, "Minerva figured by having you here, you could try and overcome your fears and start to heal. Teaching would help get your mind off things and give you a purpose. A fresh start. Try and take some solace in that."

Severus ran his hands over his face in frustration. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. His eyes suddenly went glossy, and they seemed hot and tingly, but he fought to keep his emotions at bay as Dawn observed him desperately blinking them back. He looked absolutely terrible. She reached out for his shoulder, and upon contact, she felt him flinch again – she paused, eyeing the man carefully as if to predict his next reaction. When she noticed he did not pull away, she allowed her palm to rest comfortably, brushing her fingers along his shoulder blades in her bid to reassure him as lightly as she could. She felt him relax a little under her touch, watching his shoulders drop, and bringing her a small measure of relief.

"Go to your quarters and rest. I'll finish cleaning up here – " Dawn said, but as soon as Severus opened his mouth to protest, she shook her head, " – Severus, go. It's alright."

Without another word, Dawn watched as he clambered to his feet and hastily left the classroom, not daring to look back. With his departure, she withdrew her wand and continued to clean up after him when she was greeted by Minerva who walked into the classroom in a flustered manner. The Headmistress' eyes boggled when she noticed Dawn.

"Dawn, dear – one of the Gryffindors informed me. Wh-what happened?"

Dawn caressed her wand to re-focus her mind, "He felt a little overwhelmed, I think. His mind must have drifted back, Minerva. I stayed with him a bit and packed up his classroom."

"Did he return to his quarters?" Minerva shakily responded, with her hand resting over her heart to steady herself.

Dawn nodded, "Yes, after I instructed him to."

"Good – Harry was informed and he is visiting him now, " The older woman's hooded eyes drooped, "Thank you for your patience with him. Anyone else would not have known what to do."

Breathing a worried sigh, Dawn leaned back on the edge of one of the tables. Her arms clasped neatly in front of her over her autumn-hued robes. Her somber look was clear as day, "You were right, Minerva. This was going to be difficult for him. And he needs help – guidance – " She paused to take a breath, hurt by the pain she saw within his eyes and the pain of her friendly touch, " – He will overcome this because he has far more strength than either of us."

"He does, " Minerva gave a sad smile, "More than either of us would ever understand."

"He'll be alright. We'll make sure of it, " Dawn said reassuringly, despite the hurt she had seen, felt sure of herself, "I will check up on him tomorrow, at the start of the weekend."

Minerva looked grateful, "I will appreciate that. I am confident Harry will be able to calm him tonight."

After the Headmistress departed, Dawn closed the door to the classroom and lingered around the corridor on the way to the man's quarters. She knew Severus would not be making another appearance tonight, but she wanted to at least gain some collateral from Harry when he emerges. She didn't feel comfortable retreating to her quarters until she knew he was safe. Of course, she shouldn't be so worried over a man only a few years older than she was.

But that wounded look in his eyes – those eyes had seen far too much. The loneliness behind them became almost too much for her to even bear and she knew…she just knew he needed help. He needed someone willing to fight for him. Harry – bless his soul – had been there for him during the times after the War. The times of fear, grief, pain, and anguish. After the War, he had very few people by his side. Once the trial was made public, The Daily Prophet spent months besmirching his name in the injustice on one week or boasting about his heroics in another. There was no middle ground with the media, as it depended on the week and who was writing it. Of course, Rita Skeeter had much power over the people with her falsified words, swaying people within her favor, and branding Severus Snape as dark as even Voldemort himself.

It was vile and cruel. Severus gave everything to bring him down, including risking his life.

The articles slowly died down, when they realised no one had seen or heard from him for quite a long time. There was always speculation and rumors of course, but as soon as word hit of his return to Hogwarts, The Daily Prophet went back into overdrive again once they had enough of plastering Harry's name within the newspaper, eager to document every part of the Potters' life.

Severus was stuck in limbo and Dawn felt compelled to help him find his way again. She was never one to back down from a task, but there was something about him that ignited a sense of curiosity within her. The mysterious old Potions Professor felt and became a recluse in a world which were still casting stones to this day. A man who was stuck in darkness and hopelessness for so long, without purpose, without hope.

He was struggling to live – that much was certain. It was obvious, at least to her. She wasn't sure if the other members of staff saw what she did, but she noticed the way they looked at him nervously as if he'd one day cast the Crutiatus Curse upon them. There was a fear in their eyes at the time when his emotions took an erratic turn, and they were afraid…Afraid to see him. Afraid to confront him. Afraid to console him, although sometimes Pomona stepped up for the task like a mother hen. She figured they were trying to give them space, but in all honestly, maybe they just didn't know what to do.

Harry eventually emerged from Severus' quarters almost an hour later, as if he too, hadn't slept. The Gryffindor gave Dawn a strained smile, but she was more taken aback by how saddened he looked.

Dawn whispered, not wanting anyone else to overhear, including nosey portraits, "How is he?"

"Um – " Harry joined her and leaned back against the wall staring up at a lone candle flickering beside the aged green tapestry, " – He will be. He just…had a moment. It happens."

"Anything I can do?"

Harry shook his head, "I've done all I can. Just give him some space. He just doesn't want to burden anyone."

"He's not a burden, " Dawn was shocked at the remark, "He has every right to feel the way he does. Harry…What I saw of him earlier, was…frightening. How do you help someone like Severus?"

Harry's jaw tensed, and she watched as he closed his eyes, "Time…Understanding…Patience…And more time. Honestly, sometimes I'm still trying to figure it out. He trusts me, so it's something. I wouldn't have any luck if he didn't. He doesn't let people in so easily."

"That much is obvious, " Dawn pondered for a moment, ending with a small smile, "I suppose I should keep trying, then."

The younger Gryffindor arched his head to her, "If I say so myself, I really think he does. Trust you, I mean. He's willing to give you more of a chance, so I've noticed, and with Severus, that's a big thing."

Dawn snapped her mouth closed, frowning in thought. He was right. It had been a while – aside from his earlier bout of anxiety – that he spoke of any sort of resentment towards her. It started out that way, yes. He was instantly dismissing and cold towards her, barely managing even a few words, obviously not wanting to deal with any new faces. Of course, they barely knew each other. But something had changed along the way, and the only thing she seemed to recall was their reinstatement of the wards before Christmas. That had been the most civil conversation they shared, and she couldn't help but wonder how relaxed that felt. He seemed comfortable at that time, so maybe at some point, he learned to trust her as well.

It was, however, exceedingly hard to tell. But even when he had healed her wounds – there was something else she couldn't quite place. She felt drawn to him, and somehow, he chose to remain.

Was he as curious to her, as she was to him?

But now, she felt like she had a new task. No, not of the mission. But a deeply personal one. She felt drawn to him, and something deep within her soul wanted to desperately reach out and soothe whatever was causing him pain.

She had seen this before. It was all too familiar, so much so, that her heart pained her within her pull to guide him. No curve with the purest of joys touched those lips. Those frown lines never learned to smile. Those hands never learned to love. Those eyes never learned to glow with the warmth they so desperately needed. The flinching at her touch told her that he never allowed anyone to get so close to him before. Like a wounded animal. Perhaps most contacts in the past brought him pain to some degree, so it was not something that he was instinctually used to.

Dawn took it upon herself to see him the next morning, hoping deep within herself, that he wouldn't cast her away. She needed the reassurance that he was well. She took Harry's words and followed them, giving him ample space. Saturday morning was the ideal opportunity. No classes to teach, or students to face. He could avoid the other staff if he so desired. And she had time to spare before hosting detention later in the day. She had spent most of the early hours corresponding with Rowan and their encounter at the brewery for updates, but the responses came back hopeless yet again.

But if Harry was right, maybe he trusted her enough to allow her company to comfort him. After all, even confronting him within his classroom during his state was even a shock to her.

Passing a classroom of students practicing in the school choir, the captivating singing voices echoes and faded away the lower she traveled deeper into the dungeons. It was still cold and clammy, and she brought the collar of her robes closer to her neck, keeping in whatever warmth she could.

Once she reached the large, black-wooden door of his private quarters, she gave several gentle knocks and embraced herself from the man on the other side. She knocked again, this time hearing a shuffle ever so faintly.

"Who is it?"

"…Dawn Rheingold."

There was a short pause before he spoke again with the same dismissive, baritone voice, "I do not wish to speak to you."

"Just a few minutes, that is all I ask. I will not stay and impose for longer than necessary. You have my word."

There was another pause, albeit longer, leaving her to wonder if he simply chose to ignore her, likely hoping she'd give up. She heard nothing on the other side, not even the click of boots on the floor.

Was he even still there?

Suddenly the silver handle turned and the door clicked open.

Severus stood at the door; eyes bloodshot as if he didn't sleep a wink overnight. He wore a casual grey robe; one he'd never wear beyond his quarters. However, they hung limply off his tall, thin frame. How he had the energy to even hold himself up, she'd never know. The appearance of his skin and bones barely kept him upright, indicative of the lack of food touching his lips in recent weeks.

The man stepped aside, and she walked over the threshold nodding appreciatively at him as she did so. Immediately a waft of what seemed like an odd mixture of sage, sandalwood, and vanilla. She could only presume he was working on a potion, which at least, appeared to have given him a calming effect or at a hobby to take away the troubles his mind was plaguing him with.

He eventually led her to the simple-structured sitting room - Basic furniture and a few keepsakes, with the largest stacks of old books by his desk, tickled her interest. Above the mantle, were three photos, one curiously of a child's drawing. The other one was a young, youthful woman which resembled Severus – she guessed it was his mother. And of course, one of him and Harry at what appeared to be a wedding. The Potters' wedding.

She smiled fondly at the photos, before turning to the man who still adopted the same, hardened expression he had just greeted her with, "Thank you for allowing me in."

"If I didn't, you'd likely never leave me alone."

Dawn was about to respond to that but decided against it. Severus was being purposely dismissive – she knew that but didn't allow that to worry her. She straightened her shoulders and clasped her hands in front of her, "I merely wanted to check up on you…after yesterday."

Severus curled his lip, and looked away, "I don't need anyone checking up on me. I'll handle it in my own way."

"I know you will, but it won't stop me from wondering if you are alright – " Dawn's expression grew serious, as she indicated to the sofa, " – May I?"

His eyes fluttered, almost deterred by the sentiment, before he nodded begrudgingly at the request. He took the single seat across from her, observing every single one of her mannerisms ever so carefully. He was assessing her…Calculating. His guard was up; his heart seized. He never tore his gaze away.

"Did Harry send you?" He finally asked coolly, as if it had been weighing on his mind for a long time.

She crinkled her brow in confusion, "No, this visit is on my own accord."

Severus subtly arched a brow, "Why?"

"Am I not allowed to see if my colleague is alright, after enduring a terrible panic in the middle of teaching a class?" She tilted her head over, to notice his eyes gloss over, "Ease, Severus."

The man's eyes narrowed at first – his lip twitched on the cusp of attempting to speak. But he stopped himself, still staring at her with endless, curious orbs. The slits in his eyes gradually ceased, "You're not blaming me for it?"

"What? Why should I?" Dawn's eyes widened, "There's no shame in feeling as you do. With what you've seen – "

Severus growled under his breath and looked away. The crackling fire from the fireplace cut through their brief silence.

Dawn continued, allowing her voice to soften like silk, as the singing voices in the floors above. "Don't hide yourself, Severus. What good does that ever do? I see there are people who care about you. You are worth far more than you perceive to be. You've been so used to pretending to be someone else, that you're afraid to just be yourself now. Completely."

His gaze flickered back to her; chest sinking deeper as if the wind was knocked out from him, "I've not known any other way. It was for my own protection. My whole life, I've been on the defensive. Protecting myself in the only way I know how…from multiple people. Not doing so, frightens me terribly."

Dawn allowed herself to share an empathetic smile, "I know Harry has been trying. You should actually listen to him more. He's far more profound and wise than either of us."

"Harry is absurdly stubborn."

"But he genuinely means well. You make yourself seem like you're a lost cause."

"I'd be lying if I denied it, " Severus sneered, his face twisting in immense self-disgust.

"Severus, look – I don't know what you and Harry went through personally and I can only imagine how immensely difficult that would have been. It's not in my place to ask, " Dawn bowed her head respectively, "All I know is that you have people willing to do anything just to make your life easier and less, well…bleak. You just need to allow them to do it. Especially, Harry. He gets unhappy sometimes because you are, and he feels like it's his fault."

He appeared slightly livid at that fact, "No, I do not want him blaming himself for this! I do not wish that upon him."

"Then be there for each other. You need him as much as he needs you."

"I've burdened him with enough."

Dawn's lips thinned; her voice now firmer as if she was now teaching, "Well, you're doing a piss-poor job at it, Severus. You won't see a Healer and you most certainly refuse to listen to either of us. These emotions you are having will not resolve themselves unless you properly address them. You cannot function like this."

The man shook his head adamantly, "I knew being here was a terrible idea. I should never have returned."

"Oh, nonsense. This is the best place for you because we are able to help and support you directly. And to put it bluntly, we'd feel more relieved keeping you in sight. Being alone and cutting off contact is the worst thing you should be doing, and don't give me that 'I prefer to be alone' drivel."

Severus cracked a knuckle clenching a fistful of his robes in frustration, "Minerva is most certainly taking Albus' methods without question. He would have done the same thing, just to keep a watchful eye on me. Typical."

"You may see this as a bad thing, but honestly, it will do you well. Just trust it. Trust us, alright? We all want you safe, as much as you deny it yourself. There are people who respect you. Take some solace in that, at least. "

"You couldn't understand, " He whispered.

"I may never know exactly what you are going through, but I most certainly recognise that what you are feeling, is more complicated than you think. Things will work out eventually. I know it seems unreachable, but it's never impossible to find happiness again, " Dawn paused to offer the man a reassuring, comforting smile, "Be kinder to yourself. You're yearning for something more, gleams as bright as day. You're alive, despite everything. That is a blessing, not a curse. You make it seem like merely living is a chore. Far from it."

He barely managed a saddened, lopsided smile, "You're far more optimistic than I am."

"And you're far too negative. I, too, have lost and struggled when things were bleak and grey. I get it, " She drew in a pained breath, "I just want you to know that there are those who are more than willing to guide you out from it."

Severus, to her surprise, snorted under his breath, "Now you sound like Harry - must be a Gryffindor trait."

"So what if it is? No one gets left behind. Not even the infamous grumpy Potions Master of Hogwarts, " Dawn couldn't help but share a cheeky smirk, earning back a roll of his eyes, "You make Argus look like a fairytale godmother...You can smile, you know. It won't kill you to do so."

"No cause for it."

"Oh, rubbish. Voldemort is dead, Harry respects you, you're not a fugitive, Minerva adores you like a son, and now you have the joy of putting up with myself, " Dawn's cheeky smile gleamed at the end, "Lucky you."

Severus' gaze lingered upon her smile, allowing his hardened expression to relax a little with the small icebreaker, "…You're not so terrible."

"Not so terrible? I suppose that's the best I'll ever get out of you, " She responded playfully, somewhat pleased her demeanor was at least somewhat reassuring to him. Taken aback by the unexpected response, Dawn gathered up her robes and rose from her seat, "Right, I have a detention to host. Well, have a good day Severus, and stay out of trouble."

The man's lips twitched into a darkened smirk, "Is that an order?"

Dawn chuckled, "You bet it is. And, please, do notify me if you require any further assistance. I mean that wholeheartedly."

She reached the front door and hearing a shuffle close behind her, a few words ignited further hope with her.

"Thank you for your concern, Dawn. My apologies for my outburst yesterday – "

She shook her head, holding a single palm up to halt him in his tracks, "I need no apologies from you. Things will be better, and I stand by that, alright?'

That appeared to disarm him – the man nodded, unable to peel his gaze away from the gracious smile from her that seemed to gather an unexpected warmth within him, too.

Because all but a twitch of a weightless smile on his lips, further fuelled her drive to be his friendly ear.

There was a light there and she be damned if she allowed it to ever be extinguished.