If you should not be here, leave now.

By late afternoon Severus was finally finished with the translation of the first chapter of Merlin’s book and had begun writing it down. He was suddenly interrupted by a loud crack that announced the arrival of a house-elf. It had been charged with the delivery of a large bowl of thin soup and a small dose of the nutrient potion Poppy had been feeding Harry with. He commanded the elf to leave the bowl and potion on his desk and then after casting a warming charm on the soup he went to see if Harry was awake to eat it.

Severus opened the door to Harry’s room and his eyes drifted over a strange sight. Gus had shifted himself until he was draped over Harry’s chest and shoulder his head lying next to Harry’s on the pillow, both were still asleep. It has been said that Potions master Snape has no heart, and that is true, but Severus Snape does and it made itself known then. No other person had ever succeeded in getting as close as this to his familiar without getting seriously scratched, especially not a Potter.

Severus stood in the doorway for several moments. He let himself watch Harry sleep now that there was no one around to see him. For the first time he noticed the changes that Harry’s summer had wrought on the boy’s face. He noted that he had lost the boyish roundness that was his father’s most prominent feature, his chin was more defined and pointed and his eyes were slightly sunken giving his cheekbones greater definition. There was a light shading of James around his nose and eyebrows and the hair was unmistakable but other than that, and his hair colour, he now resembled his mother far more than his father. For some reason this made Severus feel that having him around would be less of a burden.

Eventually Severus gave himself a small shake and approached the bed. "Harry, wake up!" He said loudly and reached a hand out to give his shoulder a small shake, but Harry opened his eyes before it got there.

"Mmm, is it morning?" Harry asked sleepily, blinking rapidly. Severus picked up his glasses from the side table and put them on.

"No late afternoon. Poppy has sent down some soup, it’s probably a good idea that you eat it." Severus replied. Harry blinked a few more times and tried to sit up, dislodging Gus in the process. Gus opened one amber eye and glared at Harry but there was no sign of his usual grumpiness. Just in case, Severus lifted him up and let him curl around his shoulders. With a little help from Severus, Harry sat up and leant back against the pillows.

"Harry what’s wrong?" Severus asked when he noticed the expression on Harry’s face.

"Hmm?" Harry said looking up from considering his hands. "I was just trying to remember something, that’s all."

"Remember what?" Severus enquired carefully.

"Oh, just the last time I slept without having a nightmare, it’s been so long I can’t be sure… but I think it was around Christmastime." Harry said distractedly, "did you say something about soup?"

Severus didn’t know quite what to say and so wordlessly he went to fetch the soup and the potion, he left Gus to make himself comfortable in the sitting room. Harry accepted both soup and potion without much fuss and ate the soup much faster than he managed the broth. As Harry was eating, Severus wondered what he should do about the nightmares. He knew from experience that just offering Dreamless Sleep wouldn’t be enough, and if taken over a long period it was addictive, but he was at a loss at how to approach the subject. The silence stretched uncomfortably.

"Is there anything you want to talk about?" Severus asked as Harry finished eating. Harry looked at him for a few moments as if considering him, and again Severus got the feeling that it was Lily looking out of those eyes.

"Not really… but thanks for asking… Umm you haven’t got anything I could read? I’d look through my schoolbooks only…" Harry’s voice trailed off, he had no need to finish his sentence.

"I’m sure I still have my old books." Severus offered, and was surprised at the smile Harry gave him.

"Thank you, I can do my homework if you’ll let me borrow some ink and parchment." Harry sounded almost hopeful as he said that, which also surprised Severus.

"Of course, the Headmaster has asked me to act as your tutor for the rest of the summer, so you are allowed to do magic as well. What subjects have you chosen for your NEWTs?" Severus asked.

"Defence, Care of Magical Creatures and I’m starting Ancient Runes." Severus nodded and went to find the books and everything else. He also found a wooden tray that could be enchanted to float at a comfortable height above Harry’s lap. When Harry picked up the first book, Advanced Transfiguration, he stared at the careful calligraphy on the flyleaf.

"Lucius?" Harry said incredulously, "Are you related to Malfoy?"

"Second cousins." Severus said smirking at the look on Harry’s face. "But Lucius was my father’s name, why? Are you surprised?"

"Not really, I suppose it makes sense. Severus Lucius Snape… hmm… it would sound better if it was all S’s," he observed with a slight twist of his mouth. Severus surprised himself by laughing.

"Yes, I suppose it would, but my father was quite… insistent that I didn’t change it." Severus said and left Harry to his homework.

~*~*~*~

Harry carefully worked through the assignments he remembered getting at the end of the previous year, he would have to ask about the one’s he didn’t remember. Most of his teachers had forgone the setting of summer work, as many students would not be pursuing their subject after the OWL exams, however McGonagall and Flitwick had set light essays as all students were required to continue Charms and Transfiguration. Potions was also part of the compulsory curriculum and Snape had set the fifth years a normal work load which, after the stress of the OWLs, seemed to shrink in significance somewhat but was still more than anyone had been expecting.

Snape’s books were for the most part the same as the ones Harry was used to, but they were old editions and they were lacking in some details that he remembered. They were also lacking any sort of personalisation, save for the detailed calligraphy on the flyleaves. Occasionally there were notes written in the margins, but there was nothing like what decorated his or Ron’s books, nor even Hermione’s. No snide comments about teachers or scrawled conversations, no amusing sketches or logos for his favourite Quidditch team; it was as if they had been owned by someone devoid of personality. Or someone who had grown up to fast, without time for such things.

Harry wondered about his own perceptiveness sometimes. In only a few hours Snape had managed to turn Harry’s perception of him on its head, and Harry couldn’t quite work out if everything had changed or just a few things. This new side that Snape was showing him was so different that he hadn’t even guessed at its existence. The ‘old’ Snape certainly wouldn’t have shown concern about Harry’s nightmares nor would he have helped him without complaint, it was most disconcerting to find that Snape could be as human as everyone else. Although, he told himself, I should have guessed after seeing him after a meeting with Voldemort last year.

The incident with Bill, as he was now referring to it, had proved that this was indeed his Potions professor and not some impostor on Polyjuice, and Harry wondered at how different Snape’s personalities were. He felt a nagging desire to dive into his Divination textbook and find out Snape’s star sign. It sounded soppy even to his own thoughts, but when he had studied this aspect of Divination on his own he’d learned a lot about himself in the process, and about the people around him too.

Now that he had thoroughly distracted himself from his work he pushed away the tray that Snape had enchanted for him and relaxed back into his pillows. His appendix scar was still throbbing but the lack of other pain was a great relief to him, and he was able to relax as he hadn’t done for weeks.

Harry’s mind wandered from topic to topic, skirting around anything that was too painful until it came up against the decision he’d made about telling Ron and Hermione. It was something that he had decided early in the summer. They had both told him that they didn’t care what happened, they would listen and help him deal with it. This was after he’d got back from last summer with a black eye, a sprained ankle and other sundry bruises. It hadn’t been nearly as bad as this one but talking to them had helped him deal with it and had stopped some of the nightmares too. He hoped that they would be able to help him this time as well. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Snape to help him, he just didn’t feel comfortable with him; it was bad enough that Snape had read his journal.

Harry eventually lulled himself into sleep; the line between blurred by his wandering thoughts. For sometime he wallowed in vivid half memories and vaguely amusing mixtures of thoughts and events. Then all the colour leached out of his mind and he found himself in a room he recognised too well.

Dudley entered the room, grinning all over his fat face.

"Happy Birthday, freak. I’ve got a present for you. It serves you right for putting this spell on me." Dudley spoke from Harry’s memory, the sound warped and twisted. Harry tried to move but it was as if he was under a body bind.

Suddenly Harry found himself pressed face down on his bed. There was the sound of ripping cloth as Dudley tore of his trousers, then a burning searing pain. Harry bit his lip until he tasted blood, he would not scream.

Dudley slammed into him hard and fast, puffing and panting. Harry yearned for blackness to over come him, anything to stop the pain.

Then without his cousin’s rhythm seeming to change, Harry found himself suspended in blackness. Pain shot along his scar, tearing a small cry from him with its unexpectedness. Harry looked fearfully over his shoulder but instead of his cousin’s sweating face, he looked into a pair of burning red eyes, their slit pupils dilated with lust. Harry let out a long piercing scream...

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