I'm about to share a rather unpopular opinion. I personally do not like including trigger warnings. For me, real life did not give me a trigger warning when it forced me through traumatic, life altering experiences, so I find them a little silly when I come across them in writing. While I may be a bit more cynical, I do understand my peers' views on wanting trigger warnings. So, for their sake and like I did for chapter 22 where a drunk main character would be present, this chapter has a trigger warning for slight parental abuse and intense panic attack (might be triggering for those who've experienced either to any extreme).

Without Harry in the house, it was awfully quiet, which at one time, Severus greatly appreciated the long silence the summers usually brought for him. Ever since he had taken in Harry however, each summer was usually filled with the child's mindless chatter and small talk, of which Severus had come to look forward to each day. A small thing he had missed now since Harry had left for the World Quidditch Match a few days prior. At least this strange silence would be over soon as he was expecting his son home any minute.

Severus made himself a small breakfast consisting of simple cereal and hot tea. Castiel and Hedwig pecked at the kitchen window, asking to come inside, and Severus used his wand to allow the birds to fly inside. Hedwig flew to Harry's bedroom, most likely headed for her perch, while Castiel flew to Severus with the Daily Prophet in his talons.

Summoning an owl treat from his cupboard, he offered it to Castiel, who gladly accepted the treat before flying off to his own perch, leaving the Daily Prophet rolled up next to Severus's teacup. With a quick tug on the string, Severus allowed the paper to unroll itself while he took a sip of his tea, then nearly spluttered the liquid everywhere as his eyes widened at the sight of the headline.

Scenes of Terror at the Quidditch World Cup

Severus shoved everything aside as he began reading over the paper. There was a moving photo in the center that sent chills down Severus's back: the Dark Mark in a greenish cloud hovered above burning tents in the sky, the green serpent swirling around the skull before slithering through the slowly opening mouth of the skull. Who on earth cast that charm into the sky? And why?

The paper explained very little to Severus, as was typical of the journalism of Rita Skeeter, who much preferred her scandalmongering over authenticity. She questioned the actions of the Ministry of Magic during and after the attack, claiming that they could have handled security better, especially considering the rumors of bodies being removed from the campsite's forest.

"If the terrified wizards and witches who waited breathlessly for news at the edge of the wood expected reassurance from the Ministry of Magic, they were sadly disappointed. A Ministry official emerged some time after the appearance of the Dark Mark alleging that nobody had been hurt but refusing to give any more information. Whether this statement will be enough to quash the rumors that several bodies were removed from the woods an hour later remains to be seen."

Bile rose in his throat as his eyes blurred, the paper becoming distorted for a moment as his own imagination brought up every worst-case scenario. Had Harry been hurt during this? Why on earth did the old Death Eater members decide to cause havoc and panic at the World Cup? Clearly no one had been expecting the Dark Mark's appearance if they all took off shortly after, if Rita Skeeter's words were to be believed. He had to keep reminding himself that this reporter was prone to exaggeration, and perhaps things had not played out as they had been written. Surely there would be more reports of casualties from other press if there really had been any. Harry had to be okay, was probably on his way home at this very moment.

Before Severus could work himself into a panic, the floo flared in his living room, and he was on his feet in an instant, walking over to the fireplace where Harry, Giovanna, and Sirius Black were stepping out of the green flames. He couldn't help the sigh of relief as he pulled Harry into a strong embrace.

"Are you alright?" Severus whispered to him.

"I'm fine," Harry said. "Did you hear about what happened?"

"Recently so," Severus answered, his eyes meeting Black's. "Though I expect to hear more about it."

He pulled away from Harry to look over Giovanna, recalling that the paper had stated the Death Eaters had targeted muggles and muggleborns.

"Are you alright, Miss Bassani?" Severus asked.

"I'm alright," Giovanna said as she absently brushed away any remaining soot from her jacket and jeans. "We managed to get to the woods without too much trouble, so no one cursed me or anything like that, if that's what you're thinking. I mean no disrespect, sir, but that Malfoy was a real git about the whole situation when we ran into him. Told me to my face that I'd better be careful and make a run for it lest they catch up to me. He's lucky Hermione held me back from cursing his tongue into a knot."

"I applaud you for not using your magic outside of school or dueling with another student, as deserving of any curse they might be." Severus gave Giovanna an amused look before he gestured to his sofa. "Have a seat for a moment. I'll apparate you home after I've spoken with Black."

Giovanna nodded and headed for the sofa while Severus turned his attention to Black and Harry, and he managed to catch a bit of their whispered conversation.

"Just give it to me, he doesn't need to know," Harry mumbled lowly, holding his hand out for something.

"If he doesn't hear from me, he'll find out from someone else soon enough," Black said.

"It's already sorted out though," Harry said with a groan.

"That doesn't mean it won't be brought up again."

Severus cleared his throat, catching Harry's and Black's attention.

"Am I interrupting something?" Severus asked.

"Kind of," Harry said, crossing his arms.

"Oh, my apologies," Severus said, holding his hands up and taking a step back. "Please, continue your riveting discussion. I'm sure whatever very important debate you're having is absolutely vital. Carry on."

"Dad," Harry said, giving his father an exasperated look. "It's nothing important."

"Nothing important?" Severus quirked a brow. "I see. Then you should have no problem going to your room and contemplating the truly important things in life, like the proper way to fold a fitted sheet. Off you go."

Harry rolled his eyes and headed for his room. Black snorted softly at that, then waited until Harry closed his bedroom door before pulling out a wand—one that Severus recognized as Harry's wand.

"Why do you have that?" Severus asked, accepting the wand from black.

"Thought you'd like to know," Black began, "that Harry's wand ended up . . . err, well, missing during the chaos of the attack last night. It was used to cast Morsmordre in the sky."

"It was what?" Severus snapped. "You're joking?"

"See for yourself."

Severus quickly ran his own wand over Harry's, checking the wand's last spell cast, and he frowned as his wand confirmed that morsmordre was the last thing cast.

"Apparently, all they know is that a house elf belonging to the Crouch family cast it," Black said. "She was found at the scene of the incident with Harry's wand in her possession. I don't know how much of that I believe, but the case is resolved as far as the Ministry is concerned. Everyone is more than happy to put this whole absurdity behind us."

"I can imagine," Severus muttered. "How on earth did Harry "lose" this? He should have his wand on him at all times, especially in such a dangerous position."

"I'm not disagreeing but there was a lot of chaos last night. Harry could have dropped it in his hurry to get away or . . . I don't know, but it's over with. I'm sure he's learned a lesson on keeping a better eye on it after this."

"Indeed. What in Merlin's name happened last night exactly?"

"It's still a bit unclear, but from what Arthur told me, the lot of them—Death Eaters—they were drunk and simply terrorizing the crowd and sparking riots. This wasn't a coordinated attack, and whoever cast the Dark Mark into the sky—the elf or some other third party, that was clearly too much for the other Death Eaters. They all fled as soon as they saw it in the sky."

Severus recalled what Lucius had told him when he waved around the extra World Cup ticket in his face, how he had invited many old acquaintances and friends and was expecting to have drinks afterward. Drunken folly certainly made more sense in his head for the entire attack over some display of power or distraction for a greater plot on the Dark Lord's end. He let out a relieved sigh, his eyes briefly glancing down at his left arm, as if confirming that it was not any darker than it had ever been before.

After brief exchanges of farewell, Severus waited for Black to floo away before he apparated Giovanna to her house, greeting her parents and quickly dismissing himself to get back to his son. As he walked through his house toward Harry's room, he studied Harry's wand, turning it every which way as he stared down at the intricate designs carved into the smooth wood. He knocked on Harry's door before pausing once more to turn the wand over in his hands.

Harry opened the door and folded his arms once more.

"Yeah?" Harry mumbled, eyeing his wand in Severus's hands.

"Just a friendly reminder," Severus said with a sarcastic smile, "that your wand is not an optional accessory."

"I know that." Harry reached for his wand but when Severus jerked it out of his reach, he huffed. "I didn't mean to lose it. I didn't even realize that I had when I went to check for it."

"Which is far worse than intentionally leaving it someplace. Imagine if you had lost t because someone had intentionally stolen it from you as a means to disarm you before attacking?"

"Which wasn't the case, obviously."

"And if it had been, you'd be dead right now, young man. Watch your lip."

"Nothing bad happened and I got it back."

"Nothing bad? Do you think casting the Dark Mark into the sky is no more serious than a simple tickling jinx? Dark magic flowing through any wand can alter how it functions in the future, and feed it enough, its loyalty may even be swayed. Not to mention that not only was someone using your wand to cast a dark spell, you were completely defenseless during a riot! What were you to do if one of those attackers had caught up to you and your friends, two of which were muggleborns?"

"I would have figured something out. But none of that happened. We managed to get to safety and I got my wand back. It's been fine."

"I don't think I'm impressing upon you the seriousness of what you did."

"No, I get it. I should keep a better eye on my wand. I'll try not to lose it again."

"Try? You will not lose it again. There is no try." Severus held the wand up. "Losing this could mean life or death. Do not let this leave your sight again. It should be the first thing you check for when you wake and the last thing you account for when you go to bed. I do not ever want to hear that you've somehow lost it in such a careless manner again."

Harry bit his lip as he glared at the floor for a moment before he looked up at Severus again, meeting his eyes directly.

"Yeah? And what would a non-careless manner be?"

Severus's eyes darkened considerably, and whether it was the tone in Harry's voice mixed with the fear of what could have happened last night or something else was unclear, but Severus knew full well what Death Eaters were capable of; what he had once been willing to do, and that fear squeezed at Severus's heart. But fear often revealed itself in another emotion, and Harry's confrontational attitude agitated something within him, and he pointed the wand at Harry.

Suddenly, Harry felt his arms and legs snap together while he simultaneously began to float, his toes hovering an inch above the ground. Harry struggled futilely in the restricting hold, wincing as an unseen force continued to tighten around him.

"A non-careless manner would involve an attacker catching you off-guard in a death grip curse, where you find yourself unable to even reach for your wand."

"Or I know," Severus said, twirling Harry's wand, which flipped Harry upside down and stuck his feet to the ceiling. "How about a little disorientation? I could imagine such an attack might surprise you enough to make you drop your wand."

Before Harry could open his mouth, Severus flicked the wand the slightest, and Harry could only suck in a sharp inhale as he suddenly dropped to the ground, and he groaned as he hit the floor heavily, his ribs taking the brunt of impact. But then, his body felt like it weighed three times more than it usually did, and he struggled to even lift his head up to watch his father slowly approach him.

"Gravity Charm," Severus snarled. "Simple, but effective at pinning down someone and making every little move feel next to impossible to complete, giving anyone a chance to take your wand from you."

"Dad," Harry tried to say, but due to the gravity charm, it came out sluggish and mumbled.

"You know," Severus said in an almost thoughtful way, "breathing is often taken for granted, why don't we just take that away?"

The gravity charm vanished, and Harry was able to push himself up slightly but then he gasped sharply as his chest tightened, almost as if it was being squeezed once more by the death grip curse. His lungs felt locked in place, refusing to take in or let out any air, and Harry felt a slight dizziness come over him while his eyes widened at his inability to breathe. He lifted a hand to his chest as if he might be able to compress it enough to force some kind of restart, but thankfully everything relaxed, and he sucked in a breath. Panic began rising within him as he crawled back a bit as Severus advanced on him slowly.

"Unforgivables?" Severus continued, Harry's wand still pointed at Harry's chest. "Just imagine being pinned down, helpless, wandless, as they repeatedly send searing pain up and down your spine, igniting every nerve, every bloody torturous sensation over and over until you're begging for a death that never comes."

Every move he made as he crawled away from Severus sent a sharp shock of pain through his body, like every nerve was suddenly on fire, burning up his spine, and Harry hissed at the sensation. He was glad when the sensation ended abruptly, though his breath hitched in his throat as the back of his head touched his cold bed frame, and he put up a hand toward his father.

"Dad," Harry pleaded, "Dad, please, stop!"

"A non-careless manner would involve me taking your wand from you. Permanently."

Harry leaned back against his bedframe as Severus pointed the wand at Harry's chest.

Standing directly in front of his son now, Severus kneeled in front of him, using the tip of the wand to lift Harry's chin the slightest till he met his son's eyes, spotting a flicker of fear in the green eyes hiding behind the round spectacles.

"You have no idea what someone is capable of," Severus growled through his teeth. He leaned closer to Harry as he snarled, "You have no idea what Death Eaters are capable of, what they would love to do to you if they were ever given the chance. The pain they would love to cause you. The slow death you would suffer. A non-careless manner, Harry, would involve not losing your wand in the first place. It would involve vigilance, focus, and a respect for the power it holds; respect for the protection it offers."

"Okay," Harry said in a shaky breath. "I understand."

Severus applied pressure to the wand, forcing Harry to tilt his head up a bit higher.

"I don't think you do," Severus said.

"No, no, I do! Dad, I understand. I'm sorry."

Severus stared intently into Harry's eyes for a silent minute, then he pulled the wand back slightly, and with a quick flick of his fingers, he flipped the wand around, so the handle pointed at Harry.

"Keep this on you at all times," Severus said.

Harry nodded and slowly took his wand back from Severus, startling slightly when Severus shot up to his feet and stormed out of the bedroom, shutting the door a bit forcefully behind him.

Severus leaned against the wall opposite Harry's bedroom door, his hand flying to his chest as if to physically contain the panic rising within him. What the hell did he just do? His breath came in ragged gasps, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. He could feel the blood draining from his face, leaving him lightheaded and nauseous. Harry's mistake had triggered something in Severus, something dark and volatile that had risen to the surface with terrifying speed. Something hauntingly familiar.

Pushing off the wall, he stumbled towards the living room, collapsing onto the sofa. He squeezed his eyes shut, but the darkness behind his lids was no escape. The images came unbidden, flashing like cruel snapshots: the jeering faces of his fellow Death Eaters, the sickening green flash of the Killing Curse, the screams of victims set under the Cruciatus. And then he saw another face—his father, eyes blazing with fury, lips twisted in a sneer.

"Such a failure," Tobias spat. "You're a real foul-up, Severus, you'll never amount to anything."

The tongue lashings his father gave him were always followed by beatings.

Not unlike the tongue lashing he had just given Harry. And then he turned his son's own wand against him. A beating—not unlike what his father would do to him—and if his father had been capable of magic, well, Severus didn't want to consider how similar events may have unfolded. He squeezed his eyes shut again, harder this time, trying to push the memories back into the dark recesses of his mind where they belonged, trying to occlude it all away, but they would not stay down. They swirled around him, taunting him, reminding him of what he had done, what he was capable of. He covered his face with his hands, pushing his fingers against his temples harshly, trying to ease his mind with painful acupressure, but all he was left with was the memory of Harry on the floor, staring up at him with those bright, terrified eyes.

Had he really attacked his own son? He had not meant to get so carried away, he had only meant to really instill in Harry why keeping his wand close was so important.

His stomach was in knots, and he leaned forward, sitting with his elbows on his knees, his face buried in his hands as waves of guilt and regret flooded him. He'd sworn he'd never be like his father, would never inflict that kind of pain on his own child. He'd sworn he'd never strike Harry again as he did that one drunken night a few years back, and while he had not physically struck him just now, somehow, it all felt too similar.

Merlin, he was an incorrigible, despicable being. How could he betray Harry like that? Was he doomed to be that awful Death Eater he was when he had taken the mark? Was he born an evil soul? Was he doomed to be a living replica of his father?

Severus focused on breathing as the images began to disappear, his occluding slowly beginning to take effect now. It did nothing to stop the heavy feeling of regret weighing in his gut like lead. His hands shook the slightest even as he managed to occlude every horrible memory to the darkest places of his mind.

He had been so preoccupied with occluding that he did not hear Harry's bedroom door open or even sense his son slowly walking over to him. He didn't know Harry was in the same room at all until he felt Harry's hand on his shoulder.

"Dad?" Harry inquired softly.

"I'm sorry," Severus choked out, his voice barely a whisper. He didn't move from his position, keeping his face obscured by his hands. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Harry started to say.

"No, it's not okay," Severus said. "I shouldn't have . . .I didn't mean . . ."

"I know," Harry said.

Words were lost on Severus's tongue, so he refocused on breathing and occluding, ignoring Harry's presence, even as his son sat next to him on the couch, offering silent comfort. He took a few more minutes to breath and occlude before his hands ceased shaking and his mind was finally clearing away the last ebbs of panic, leaving only shame and regret for his behavior. He took a couple deeper breaths as he lowered his hands, clasping them together in front of him as he glanced over at Harry, who was sitting in a near identical manner, watching Severus intently. Harry offered a small smile when Severus's eyes met his.

How could I? The thought echoed in his brain, a relentless, self-inflicted accusation. Though, he knew, deep down, that his anger had been misplaced, a misplaced frustration fueled by fear and stress over a situation he had had no control over.

What if I snap again? Came another thought that Severus frowned at, turning his attention to his own clasped hands. What if I can't control my anger and end up really hurting Harry next time?

"Hey," Harry said, reaching over and placing his hand on Severus's arm, squeezing gently. "I'm okay, Dad. Really."

"Are you?" Severus asked, not really believing the words.

"I am. I'm sorry for pushing the issue with losing my wand," Harry added, pulling his hands together again. "I really didn't even think about it last night or bother to make sure I had it on me. I knew it was a stupid mistake, so I guess I was kind of annoyed when you got into lecture mode about it when I was already feeling like an idiot for not making sure I had it on me. That was all I was thinking about. I didn't even consider all the stuff you said could happen to me because I wasn't prepared or armed. I see why you were being so insistent on it now."

Harry rubbed his arms absently as he looked at Severus, waiting for a reply.

Severus sighed heavily as he sat back on the sofa.

"Regardless," he said, "I should not have . . ."

Severus closed his eyes for a moment before opening them and looking at his son.

"I should not have attacked you as I did just to make a point," Severus said. "And with your own wand nonetheless."

"I deserved it," Harry said, looking down at the floor. "I was being a prat."

"You were not," Severus said. He gently turned Harry's chin so his son was facing him. "And no one deserves to feel afraid in their own home like that."

"It was kind of scary," Harry confessed. He shrugged his shoulder as Severus let his chin go. "But I get what you were trying to do. I won't forget my wand anytime soon. It was kind of eye-opening, really. There's still a lot I don't know about magic and what it's capable of. Especially the darker kind. And I didn't see much of what the Death Eaters were doing when they were rioting through the campsite, just that there was a lot of screaming and tents catching on fire. I guess torture wasn't really on my mind. Or checking to make sure I had my wand."

"Unfortunately, this is now the reality we live in," Severus said. "I fear that riot is only the beginning of a rise in the Death Eaters activities."

"Why? Do you think . . . You-Know-Who is planning something."

"I'm not sure about that," Severus said, despite believing the opposite. "But none of the Death Eaters have really done anything together as a group in years. This event will only entice them to do something more again."

"Did the riot make you remember what you used to do when you became a member?"

Severus frowned at the innocent question. The riot he read about in the paper only reminded him of one of the many "whys" that made him leave the rankings to begin with. No, fear was what made him remember what he used to do as a member, even if his role had been more limited as his value lay in his special brewing over labor in terrorism. And he had been thankful for that, as he managed to avoid much of the torture aspects, though there had been a few cases he had been dragged into. He was wrong then, and he was wrong now. Some things simply didn't change.

"No, Harry. Fear did." Severus answered his son honestly.

"Oh." Harry looked up at his father. "And I didn't help any."

"No." Severus quirked a brow at his son. "But I didn't help any either. Harry, I am truly sorry for attacking you as I did. I will do my best to ensure there is never a repeat of this."

"I know you will," Harry said. "We all make mistakes. I make a lot of them. Too bad there's no one around to smack you when you screw up."

Severus chuckled, elbowing his son playfully.

"Indeed. Are you alright? Any pain from earlier?"

"Well, a little bit in my side. You let me fall from the ceiling." Harry rubbed at his right ribs pointedly.

Severus winced at the accusation, then pulled Harry to his feet and stood him between his knees. Harry lifted his shirt to expose the side that was hurting, and Severus could make out the start of bruising along three of Harry's ribs.

"You know you do not have to forgive me every time I mess up," Severus said as he summoned a healing salve. "Especially when I hurt you like this."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, jumping a bit as the cold salve was rubbed into his skin. "But it feels better too. Besides, you don't mess up as often as I do, and you still forgive me every time. I can do that too."

Severus smiled at his son, feeling lighter now that he had Harry's forgiveness. It certainly did feel better, as Harry wisely put it. However, as he finished the salve and recapped the bottle, Harry gave him a very serious look as he fixed his shirt.

"Just don't ever do it again," he said.

"Yes, sir," Severus said in a serious tone back.

"There's no need to call me sir," Harry responded with his usual cheeky grin, and Severus couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips.