Classes were officially over that second day back at Wartsmoth Academy, and Harry had left Ron and Hermione to study in the library while he headed outside for a breather. He enjoyed school in the past, largely due to the notion that it was an escape from Surrey and his less-than-savory homelife. Now, however, although he still enjoyed it, he realized that he couldn't simply view it as an escape anymore, because now Remus had custody of him, and, given that he was nearing the end of his education, he knew full well that decisions would need to be made regarding his future.

"Harry?"

Harry turned at the familiarity of the voice behind him, and was slightly surprised to see Ginny following him. He swallowed, hesitating for a moment, before he permitted himself to reply. "I was just going for a walk before dinner, Gin. Everything okay?"

Ginny sighed, stepping closer to him. "Yeah, things are fine," she assured him. "I... I just wanted to ask why you haven't asked me out yet."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "What?" he asked.

Ginny worried her lower lip. "Well, ever since you ended things with Cho last year, and I broke up with Michael, I thought we were headed in that direction... I mean, I was torn up about Michael leaving me for Cho, and I was there for you after Sirius..."

Harry sighed. "I understand why it seemed like we were headed in the direction of a romantic relationship," he admitted, stuffing his hands into the trouser pockets of his school uniform. "I didn't exactly..." He trailed off.

"We were snogging plenty before the school year ended," Ginny put in, her arms crossed over her chest in a protective gesture. "I guess... Did I misread the signals? Or did I do something wrong, Harry? Because, once school ended for the summer, you didn't call me or anything. I just thought that you were confused..."

Harry shook his head. "I think I needed comfort, Ginny. You didn't pressure me to talk after Sirius was murdered, and that, and in between the police statements we all had to go over because we were there when it happened..." He shrugged his shoulders. "It was just easier to snog you and just...forget. I'll readily admit to using you as a distraction, Ginny, and I should have been more upfront with you."

Ginny swallowed at the news. "I'm not about to get bitchy about you for using me like that," she said softly to him, and Harry nodded. "You were hurting, and I'm glad I could offer you some comfort." She rolled her shoulders. "But, I don't think I see a future for the two of us. I'm right, aren't I? You just see me as a friend?"

"I see you as a sister, like Hermione," Harry explained. "I love you, Gin, but I'm not in love with you, and I don't think I ever could be. I'm sorry for that. Things would be a lot easier if we could just end up together..."

Ginny smiled, stepping forward and hugging Harry. "Don't worry. I... I don't think I'm in love with you either," she said softly. "I've... I've actually started seeing someone. We started seeing each other almost two months ago," she went on, and pulled away from Harry. "I'm really happy, Harry; happier than I've been in a long time."

Harry grinned; he wanted Ginny to be happy, he really did. "Who is it?" he asked.

"It's Dean," Ginny whispered, her face flushing in a moment of joy. "He came to the house this summer to hang out with Ron a bit, but Ron was tied up a bit on the phone with Hermione, so then we got to talking. Then, things changed when he kissed me, and I really wanted to kiss him back, and so I did."

"Dean's a good bloke," Harry told her with a nod. "I know that the two of you will be really happy, and not just because you've got football in common."

Ginny sighed. "Just wish you were playing for the school team this year. I know you said that last term would be your final season, but..." She shrugged. "I know that things hit the fan this summer, Harry. I know that. Ron mentioned that Remus got custody of you before him and Hermione went to see you."

Harry nodded at her. "Guess it was a big tip-off, considering that I was never allowed to have guests at the Dursleys."

"You know I'm here, right?" she asked, her voice quiet. "If you ever want to talk to me about anything, I'm here."

Harry looked around then, deliberately lowering his voice. "There is something I want to talk about, but I'm not sure how to tell Ron and Hermione..."

Ginny nodded. "Does Remus know?"

Harry shook his head. "I haven't told him, no."

"Well, of course you can tell me, Harry, if you're comfortable. I won't say anything about it, not even to Luna, I swear."

"I know; I trust you, Gin," Harry assured her. He stepped closer then, and said softly, "I figured out why I can't love you."

Ginny's eyebrows raised quickly then. "Is... Is there another girl, then? Did you call Cho over the summer and try and work things out?"

Harry shook his head. "No, no. It's nothing like that. Not a girl, anyway."

"Oh," Ginny said, nodding her head in understanding. "You... You're gay, then?"

"Yeah, I'm gay," Harry replied, finding it empowering to say those words.

"How did you find out?"

Harry dragged his tongue over his lip; he couldn't tell Ginny that it was because he'd been thinking about Professor Snape all summer. He knew how understanding she was, but even he didn't think she'd be able to wrap her head around that one. "I just did some thinking over the summer, Gin, about my future, and what I'd like in a partner."

"Anyone strike your fancy, then?"

Immediately, Harry shook his head, forcing a laugh. "No. No, of course not."

"So, not Boy George or anything like that?" Ginny asked, laughing too.

Harry shook his head at her. "No. He's...not my type."

"Do you even have a type?" she asked.

Harry swallowed. "Dark hair," he said, a smile coming onto his face. "Dark hair, dark eyes, and pale skin. They also have to have nice...hands," he went on.

"Hmmm," Ginny replied, thinking that over. "Well, Mum and Dad always told us that we had to give everyone a chance in life. We love you, Harry, and if you're gay, it won't matter to us. It's actually why Mum's brothers were killed," she said softly, and Harry's eyes widened. "It was some gang that found out and gay-bashed them, and things ended badly...really badly."

"I always thought it was something like cancer..."

"One of them had AIDS," Ginny confirmed, her forehead puckering in sadness. "I guess the gang thought that they'd get it by just walking around the same neighborhood as they did. It was plastered all over the papers—Prewitt Boys Killed by Gang. Mum hardly ever liked to talk about them, but she did when Charlie came out to us a year ago."

"Charlie?" Harry asked, remembering Ginny's second-eldest brother, who was a mythological creature writer who lived in Romania.

Ginny nodded. "Yeah. Found out when he was fourteen, but kept it hidden, because he was afraid of, well, anyone's reaction, really."

"Well, I'm glad to know that your parents won't freak," Harry responded, his voice quiet. "I just hope that everyone else's reaction is positive."

"The right people will react the right way, Harry," Ginny assured him, stepping closer to him and pressing her lips to his cheek. "Well, I'd better go. Dean and I have planned to have dinner together tonight," she said brightly, squeezing his hand for a moment before heading back inside the school.

Harry looked around the expansive school grounds then, thinking that he saw a flash of black somewhere close by, but he couldn't be sure. Shaking his head, he pushed himself off from where he'd been standing, leaning against the side of the school. He pulled his school robes more closely against him then, and headed inside to face the dinner crowd in the canteen.

. . .

Harry was looking over his assignment for chemistry the following afternoon with Ron and Hermione in the school's courtyard. It was a far more pleasant day out that day than the day before, and Hermione suggested that the library's stuffiness wouldn't benefit their studying. Ron was all for a change of scenery, but just couldn't figure out the difference between inorganic, organic, physical, analytical, and biochemistry, and Harry merely looked over his notes from Professor Snape's lecture on the topic from earlier that afternoon, while Hermione patiently went over it with Ron once again.

Neville, Dean, and Seamus had decided to work in the library that afternoon; having already completed their chemistry assignments, they were looking for topics on their first Russian literature essay of the year. Dolores Umbridge, their professor, was notoriously well-read on the subject, and would come down especially hard on the students if they misspelled the complicated names of the authors, book titles, or character names. Their first assignment was to read the first seventeen chapters in Anna Karenina by the end of October, and, while doing so, to take notes on the chapters, to the point when they were expected to be finished with the book just before their Christmas break, to then spend Christmas break researching appropriate topics for their essay on the book itself. The second book they were to read that year was War and Peace and Hermione, of course, had already begun her chapter notes on it.

Harry looked up then as Ginny and Luna were discussing their notes on the other side of the courtyard; they were going over the drills for that weeks' vocabulary for their second-year French class with Professor Lockhart, who nobody in Harry's circle of friends particularly liked or were impressed by. Harry and Ron had only passed second-year French with Hermione's help, and were barely keeping their heads above water for their third-year class that year. Harry was dreading the following year, knowing full well that if he did halfway-decently on the third-year French class that year, then advanced French would be in his future.

"Honestly, Ronald, just pick the one you're most familiar with and go from there," Hermione said to their friend, causing Harry to turn back to their conversation, fully aware that Hermione was growing slightly frustrated. "You can focus most of your experimental research on it, and you can even select it for your end-of-term essay."

"That won't help me during lectures when Snape badgers us to get answers right, Hermione, or for exams when I don't know what the bloody hell to write during the long-form answers. Not to mention the experiments we actually do in class."

"That's why I always tell you to take notes when Professor Snape lectures us on new topics, Ronald, and why we have assigned reading," Hermione reminded him.

Ron rolls his eyes. "Professor Snape can kiss my arse," he muttered, crossing his arms and glaring at his textbook, simply titled Modern Chemistry.

Harry was about to say something comforting to his best mate when he, Ron, Hermione, and, from across the courtyard, Ginny and Luna were startled by the unexpected. The unexpected came in the form of Draco Malfoy, who was currently being tailed by his paramour, Pansy Parkinson, with whom he had been in a relationship with since the Yule Ball, their Christmas dance, which had happened two years previously. Pansy looked positively wretched, while Draco looked bemoaned over the entirety of the situation.

"I told you, I can't do this anymore!" Draco was shouting, as he made every effort to get away from her, and seemed sickened by the looks she was giving him.

"But Draco, I don't understand!" Pansy whined back. "You haven't given me a proper explanation to this total about-face! Our families were on vacation this summer in Saint Germain this summer, and you said nothing about it then!"

Draco whirled around to face Pansy then, the expensive cut of his school robes twirling around him, and Pansy, not prepared for the display, immediately doubled back, giving her boyfriend the space he obviously so craved. "Pansy, we'd never work..."

She sighed, pulling her hands through her raven hair in a moment of frustration. "I thought we went over the fact that my snogging Blaise was just a moment of weakness, and you have my word that it'll never happen again."

"Pansy!" Draco shouted, and Pansy shrunk back from Draco further. "It's not just about you snogging Blaise, and you know it!"

"Then enlighten me, Draco!" she cried out.

"You're in love with Blaise, Blaise is in love with you. I'm not stopping the two of you from being together, so just go!"

"Not if it hurts you, Draco!" Pansy said, dashing forward then and taking his face into her hands and staring up at him, unblinking, with her dark brown eyes. "I don't want to hurt you, I never did. And our parents love us together..."

"It can't be about them, Pansy!" Draco said, yanking himself away from her.

"But, Draco..."

"Pansy, listen here—I don't love you. I literally can't love you. It's got nothing to do you with you, and everything to do with me!"

Pansy drew back then, shocked. "You... You're not...?"

"I am," Draco confirmed, swallowing slightly, a tremor going through him then, and he raised his eyes behind her then, and Harry realized that Neville, Dean, Seamus, and Blaise had filtered into the courtyard—which was just below the library and, due to the windows being open, had likely heard everything.

"Draco..."

"Pansy, I'm sorry," Draco said, and dashed from the courtyard, and Harry was doubly shocked when Neville took off after him.

Pansy hesitated for a moment, before Blaise approached her and put an arm around her shoulders, and led her out of the courtyard.

"Well," Dean said, and moved to sit beside Ginny on a bench across the courtyard, "do you need any help?" he asked her.

Ginny grinned up at him. "Perhaps you could assist us with our vocabulary. Is that all right with you, Luna?"

Luna nodded. "Oh, yes. It's like being with friends."

Dean looked shocked at the comment. "We are your friends, Luna."

Luna smiled at him. "That's nice," she replied.

Immediately, Ron began gathering up his chemistry notes, textbook, and all the other school supplies around him.

"What're you doin', then?" Seamus asked.

"I'd like to leave," Ron replied, flushing to his ears.

"What? Why?" Harry demanded.

"That happens to be my sister!" Ron hissed at him, and nodded in the direction of where Dean was still sitting beside Ginny.

"Honestly, Ronald, they're not even holding hands," Hermione informed him, rolling her eyes at his behavior. "They're just studying."

"Je voudrais parler Français," Dean said to Luna.

"I would like to speak French," Luna replied.

"That's very good," Dean told her. "Une toux nocturne," Dean said to Ginny.

"Nighttime cough," Ginny said with a grin.

Dean grinned at his girlfriend. "That's correct," he said, and leaned down to kiss her, tilting her chin up slightly with his index finger.

"And snogging," Hermione said, quickly looking away.

"Yeah, now I'd really like to leave," Ron said, shaking his head as he shoved his things into his bag and got to his feet. "Come on, Seamus. Still need to work on Russian lit?"

"Yeah, considering that Neville and Dean left me alone," he joked, and the pair walked off together laughing.

"Harry," Hermione said, catching Harry's eye as he lowered his gaze back to his notes, "is all this all right with you?"

"Ron and Seamus working on Russian lit? Yeah," he said with a laugh. "Old toad-face certainly gives us too much work as it is..."

"No, I mean... Seeing Dean with Ginny," she whispered.

Harry nodded, smiling at her. "Yeah. She told me that they were together."

Hermione blinked. "And you're all right with that? I mean, what with the two of you snogging last year after you ended things with Cho, and she Michael, Ron and I just thought that the two of you would..."

"I'm gay, Hermione," Harry said, the confession falling out of his lips before he could call it back, and was shocked to see Hermione smiling at him. "What?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Nothing," she said quietly, turning back to her chemistry homework. "Just glad you've finally figured it out, is all."

. . .

Harry was lying on the floor of the living room; he had been polishing the furniture with that god-awful wood cleaner that Aunt Petunia insisted that he used. The smell would cake itself to his hands for days on end, for he wouldn't be allowed to shower off afterwards. The furniture polishing was one of the most labor-intensive tasks at Number Four Privet Drive, and he was instructed to do it halfway after tending to the garden, and then complete the task after he had washed the dinner dishes.

"Freak!" came the shout of Dudley, echoing in his ears as his cousin stomped over to him, lifting him effortlessly by the hair, and holding him aloft, the fronts of his trainers scuffing against the floor beneath him. "Wakey-wakey, freak!" he yelled.

Harry's eyes locked onto Dudley's, and he found himself trembling in his grasp. "Dudley... I don't want..."

Dudley laughed aloud then, clearly enthralled with Harry's suffering, and shoved him back down onto the ground, causing Harry to grit his teeth as his knees slammed onto the floor. "I don't give a rats' arse what you want, ya freak!" he growled at him.

Harry trembled all over, tears clouding his vision as he took in the expensive trainers that his cousin wore. "Please...don't..." He begged.

"Fine, I won't beat you...today," Dudley said, mulling over a proper punishment. "Instead, I'm feeling rather generous. Wouldn't want to wreck that pretty face of yours."

Harry looked up then, peering through the veil of tears behind his glasses. "What... What are you...?" he asked.

Dudley grinned down at him, looking positively predatory then as his sausage-like fingers drifted to the belt on his jeans, which he swung out quickly, permitting the buckle to hit the floor. He then took the button out of its hole, and unzipped his fly, before pulling down his pants, leaving Harry to stare appallingly up at his boxers, to which he pulled them down, too.

"Mum and Dad went to a film," Dudley declared, grabbing ahold of Harry by his shoulder and yanking him closer. "They won't be here to see how pathetic you are."

"Dudley, please," Harry begged, trembling as Dudley stroked himself to life, and nearly hit him in the face with his erect member. "Please...no..."

Dudley, losing patience, grabbed ahold of Harry's shoulders then, and turned him around, and proceeded to slam him up against the wall, just beside the cupboard under the stairs. "When are you going to get it into that thick head of yours, cousin," he growled in Harry's ear, his hot breath on his skin causing bile to rise in his throat, "that there is no such thing as 'no'?"

Harry swallowed then, trying to smack Dudley's hands away and wriggle out of his grip, but Dudley was stronger, and manhandled Harry into submission, pulling down his cousin's jeans and slammed his head up against the wall for good measure. Harry could taste copper as fresh tears escaped his eyes, but said nothing more as Dudley slammed him further into the wall, taking ahold of his hips and moving him into position, entering him without hesitation, or any form of preparation...

"No!" Harry screamed, the word ripping from his throat as he woke up. He was relieved that his house and year-mates, which included Ron, Neville, Dean, and Seamus, were all notorious heavy sleepers, so whenever he cried out in the night after an inevitable nightmare, none of them seemed to be disturbed.

Harry sighed, pushing his fringe off his forehead, not surprised to find that it was dripping with sweat. He shook his head, pushing himself out of bed and making his way to the door of their dormitory, wanting to get some air, somehow. He navigated his way down the staircase, passing the female and the rest of the male dorms before exiting the common area, and walking down the cool corridors of Wartsmoth.

Harry was wearing sleep pants and a T-shirt for the England cricket team, both of which Remus had bought for him before the start of the school year. He was very thankful for Remus for getting him clothes, as well as providing a home for him, and too many other things to count. He crossed the long hallway outside the dorms and came to a stone window seat, staring out at the blackness of the night, feeling slightly better, although the nightmare still proceeded to eat away at his mind in a successful manner.

"Mr. Potter."

Normally, in years' past especially, hearing that voice address him so formally and with such contempt would set his teeth on edge but not now, not now. Harry turned slowly towards the voice, knowing full well that it was Professor Snape, and didn't bother to wipe the fresh set of tears from his cheek. "I'm sorry. I know it's after curfew professor. I just... I couldn't sleep and I really didn't want to be in there right now..."

Severus was shocked at the demeanor of young Potter, not to mention the fact that his apology seemed genuine. He stepped slightly closer then, and was not at all surprised when Potter shrunk back slightly from him. In all Potter's years there, Severus had treated him horribly, he knew that, and now, it seemed, the time had come to make amends, somehow.

"Come on, Potter, I'm not going to report you," Severus said, knowing that he had to put up a physical barrier of some kind; he didn't want Potter to believe that they were suddenly best mates or anything like that. "I know you've had a difficult go of it, especially with all the changes this summer. I think that a little consideration can be given here, surely."

Harry blinked, surprised that his chemistry professor was being so reasonable, and desperately scrubbed the tears from his eyes. "What is it you know?"

Severus swallowed. "I know what Professor Lupin, Professor McGonagall, and Headmaster Dumbledore have deemed appropriate for the staff to know."

Harry mulled that over for a moment, knowing very well that that statement could have a great many meanings. "What have they deemed appropriate for the staff to know?" he asked, knowing full well that he should be privy to it.

"That Professor Lupin was given custody of you, which is his right, as one of your godfathers, appointed by your parents when you were a child," Severus replied.

Harry sighed, leaning back up against the stone wall behind him; it was cool on his back, which caused his entire body temperature to go down, thus permitting him to relax. "Well, I suppose that's not too personal," he replied.

Severus noticed that he had crossed his arms entirely around himself, almost as if he wished to shield himself from potential danger. "You're having difficulty sleeping." It wasn't a question, and yet Severus felt as if a direct approach would be appropriate here.

"Is it that obvious?" Harry asked, raising his green eyes to meet Severus's black ones, and it was plain to see the deep purple circles beneath them.

Severus sighed; he knew what it was like to spend hours on end, staring at the ceiling, listening to the minutes tick by, and having the clock chime hour after hour in the darkness. "Come on, then, Potter," he said, turning around, his robes pluming around him, and Harry, surprised, pushed himself up from the wall he was leaning against and moved to follow him.

"It was you, wasn't it?" he asked, his voice small as they headed down a staircase, to the basement of the school, where Severus's chambers were.

"I hardly know to what you are referring, Potter, as you didn't have the decency to be specific just now," he said, more gently than he would have in times past.

Harry swallowed, the stone floor cool on his feet as they approached an old-looking door, and he remembered hearing upon his school tour that the basement of the school had been preserved from its original construction, back in the early-1800's. "You were outside, almost a week ago, when I was talking to Ginny."

"Ginevra Weasley?" Severus asked, unlocking the door before them and stepping inside, moving to the side quickly so as to permit Harry to slip in behind him.

"Yeah, she goes by Ginny," Harry corrected him gently, marveling at how soft the carpet he now stood on was. It was decorated ornately, with black, silver, and green patterns, which slowly got more and more complex the deeper they went into the carpet. "This is beautiful," Harry said as he raised his eyes upwards to his chemistry professor, who was staring at him for a moment with a look of slight surprise.

"Thank you," Severus replied, suddenly remembering what he wanted to do, and breezed past Potter and into the little kitchenette attached to his personal living room. "It's Turkish."

"I've never been to Turkey," Harry said softly, tracing his toes onto the lovely patterns below his feet. "Only to England and Scotland. And I didn't leave England until I was eleven, to start school down here." He hesitated for a moment, almost as if he was wondering if he was allowed to continue the conversation. "Have you been?"

"Been where, Potter?" Severus asked, gathering a box of tea from his cupboard—chamomile, beneficial for sleep—and two mugs.

"To Turkey," Harry replied. "Have you been to Turkey?"

"No, I haven't been," Severus replied, filling his tea kettle with water from the sink on the other side of the kitchen. "I have been to Germany a number of times, and France. I don't have much time for traveling, though, I'm afraid."

"You seem like you could use a vacation," Harry mused, moving towards the opposite end of the carpet, before turning to stare into the flames of the fireplace behind him.

"Why would you assume that, Potter?" Severus asked, lighting up the flame beneath the kettle on the stove.

"Well, perhaps it's why you don't seem... You don't seem very happy, professor," Harry said at last, his voice not cruel or condemning in any way; in fact, it sounded sad.

"There is no reason for me to be," Severus said simply, shrugging his shoulders for a moment as he dropped a tea bag into each mug.

Harry turned, watching the professor's movements from over his shoulder. "Why? You seem to be doing well at your job. Was it not your chosen profession?"

Severus shrugged. "Prior generations preached that you get high marks while in school, and select a career in which you're capable."

Harry scoffed. "Sounds much like today. Besides, you're not that much older than me. You are the same age as Remus, aren't you? And my parents..."

"Yes, we're the same age," Severus confirmed, lifting the kettle off the stove as it whistled, and poured the hot water into the mugs. "Do you take milk or sugar with your tea?"

"Both, please. Two sugars," Harry replied.

Severus nodded, not adding either to his mug, before he brought the two steaming mugs of tea into the living room, and moving towards the couch. "Feel free to sit down, Potter."

Harry did as instructed, reaching out and taking the proffered mug of tea the moment he was sitting comfortably. "Thank you, sir," he said softly.

Severus nodded, watching Harry sip his tea through a layer of steam. "This is chamomile tea, Potter," he explained, and Harry looked up at him. "Consider getting some; have Remus provide you with some."

"Oh, right," Harry said, nodding as he took another sip of tea.

Severus's brow puckered slightly then. "What is it now, Potter?"

Harry sighed. "Well, I know I should be grateful to you, and I am. You're sacrificing your evening to provide a cup of tea and conversation to your least-favorite person on the face of the earth. You're a better person than I gave you credit for, sir."

"You're not my least-favorite person, Potter. I know I don't always show it, but trust me. I don't loathe you completely."

Harry blinked, raising his eyebrows. "Who is your least-favorite person, then, sir?"

"Tom Riddle," Severus growled.

Harry nearly dropped the mug in shock, before setting it aside. "Wait. You know him?" he asked, shaking his head.

Severus sighed. "Yes. He took someone very dear to me, and I cannot forgive him for that, I simply cannot."

Harry nodded, not wanting to push it out of him, so he thought it best to let the subject drop entirely. "Was it you?" he asked, lifting up his mug again. "Six days ago, outside the school, when I was talking to Ginny. I thought I saw..."

"Saw what, Potter?"

"Your robes," Harry replied, shaking his head, knowing just how silly it sounded. "Forget it. I didn't realize how ridiculous it was."

Severus gave a slight nod, despite the fact that he was watching the two of them, and he couldn't understand why it had rubbed him the wrong way when the youngest Weasley had kissed him on the cheek before leaving him.

"So, Remus, Professor McGonagall, and Headmaster Dumbledore spoke at the staff meeting about Remus getting custody of me?"

Severus nodded, knowing that they would eventually circle back to this particular line of conversation. "They did."

Harry swallowed. "And do you know why he was given custody of me, professor?"

"I know that there were clear signs of various forms of abuse from the environment which the courts deemed appropriate for you to live in," Severus replied, his tone a steady one.

Harry leaned away from Severus. "Wait. You knew I was being abused?"

Severus sighed. "In all honesty, Potter, most of the staff was aware."

Harry set aside his cup of tea, now nearly finished, a second time. "Remus only called attention to it because I showed up with a broken jaw here when I was thirteen."

Severus put down his own mug. "Potter, you've got to understand. None of us had any legal recourse to get you out of there. Had we know the extent of it—"

"The extent?!" Harry demanded, lashing out now. He didn't want to believe that Remus had betrayed his trust and actually told them that Dudley had—

"We know about what your uncle did to you," Severus said softly to him then. "Trust me when I tell this to you, Potter, that you're not alone—"

"You don't know a damn thing, Snape!" Harry growled, launching to his feet, and hating it that his voice was shaking. "You haven't bothered to know a damn thing about me, other than what you believe to be true!"

"Potter," Severus said, slowly getting to his feet.

"No!" Harry shouted at him. "You hated my dad, I know you did, and you put that hate onto me because you felt justified in doing so! Well, I'm so tired of being hated! I hate being hated," he whispered then, his voice breaking at the end then as he felt the hot tears flowing down his face once more, before he turned on his heel and fled from the room.

. . .

Harry remembered Dora's kind words as he fled from the interview; they arranged for it to be held just before curfew but now, Harry wanted to put as much distance between there and where he was at the moment. The dam had finally broken, because he just didn't want to keep talking about it, and he'd given Dora everything she'd wanted. He was shaking now as he found himself before a familiar door in the basement at Wartsmoth, and pounded on it quickly, knowing full well he was shaking from head to toe.

"And your cousin would wait until your aunt and uncle were gone?"

"No witnesses that way, he said," Harry replied, deliberately not looking at Dora as his nails bit into the palms of his hands.

"And what had happened the first time, leading up to the situation?"

"Aunt Petunia had backhanded me because I didn't finish polishing the furniture halfway before it was time to cook dinner," he replied, still stoic. "I must've landed wrong, because, the next thing I knew, Dudley was waking me up, telling me that they were at a film."

"Did Dudley say anything else to you?"

"He said he was feeling generous, and he wouldn't be beating me up that night," Harry went on, his stomach rolling. "He also said my face was pretty, and he didn't want to do any damage to it if he didn't have to..."

"And that was when it happened?"

"More or less, he didn't say much else, other than to inform me that 'no' didn't exist. Not with him, anyway..."

"So, you definitely said 'no' to the act?"

Harry nodded; the movement jerked his neck slightly, bringing him back to reality. "Yeah. I would always say no, and beg them, if all else failed. I hate to beg," he muttered bitterly, tears flowing down his face. "Makes me feel even less than I already do..."

Harry pounded on the door before he lost his nerve, still trembling, and kept his eyes raised, green soon meeting black as Severus answered the door.

"Potter? What's going on?"

"Please," Harry whispered, and Severus was shocked at his demeanor. "I know I didn't leave us on the best of terms last time we were alone last week but, please... Please let me come in. I need someone to talk to who won't judge me."

Severus crossed his arms. "Don't you have friends for that, Potter?"

"You said I wasn't alone," Harry replied, his voice firm beneath the trembling. "Or was that just another lie fed to me by someone meant to protect me?"

Severus sighed, before moving out of the way, permitting Harry to cross the threshold and into his private quarters again. "What happened?"

"Detective Tonks from Scotland Yard came to see me for an interview," Harry said quietly, and Severus sighed.

"Ah, yes. Headmaster Dumbledore informed us that that was happening this evening, and that it was not to be public knowledge, nor were the two of you to be disturbed."

"Not physically we weren't," Harry muttered.

"What are you talking about? Did she upset you?"

"It wasn't her fault," Harry replied, still not turning to look at Severus. "She was just doing her job by asking me all these questions. We... We got to a difficult bit, and she told me that we could stop if I wanted to—she always does—but I just wanted to get through it..."

"What was so difficult about it?"

Harry swallowed, shutting his eyes and hunching his shoulders; he was deliberately making himself smaller, Severus noticed, a trait he had had at that age to deal with all the atrocities that had happened to him. "My cousin," he whispered, his voice shaking. "I told the detective tonight that my cousin raped me..."

Severus had to mask the low growl in his throat at the revelation. "When did this happen?" he asked him. "Was it a one-time thing, or ongoing?"

"Ongoing," Harry whispered. "It... It happened right after Riddle ordered the murder of Cedric Diggory when I was fourteen, the one I watched. He... Dudley liked it whenever I was sad about something, and he took advantage of it. I was distracted, because I was trying to hurry to get a chore done, and, when I didn't do it fast enough, or well enough, my aunt hit me, and I fell down, knocked unconscious. My cousin woke me up, told me that my aunt and uncle had gone to some film, and that's when he..."

"Riddle got another life sentence for that crime," Severus said softly from behind him, "but it sounds to me as if that cousin of yours deserves one as well."

Harry nodded, and Severus could hear him sobbing quietly. "He would do it whenever he could get his hands on me, but only when people weren't around. He... He knew about me, but he didn't want people to think he was that way, too..."

Severus blinked; did the boy just come out to him? As he was in a position of authority over teenagers, he had dealt with this plenty of times, so it didn't faze him as much as it did in times past, but just to be sure... "Potter, do you mean to tell me that you're...?"

"Gay? Yeah," Harry replied, his voice cracking slightly then. "Except Dudley called me a faggot and said that other people would think he was one, too, if he kept doing what he was doing in front of people..."

Severus swallowed, remembering the word was often thrown around as he grew up, in particular towards him, more than once, more than twice. "Did anything else...?"

"The straw that broke the camel's back was when Uncle Vernon caught us," Harry went on then, opening his eyes and staring out the window of Severus's kitchenette. "He... He took off his belt to me and gave me the worst beating I'd ever gotten in all my years there. Started using the damn thing on me when I was four, and I burned his bacon," he muttered, his tone bitter. "Then, he told Dudley to leave, and Aunt Petunia took him out of the house—I don't even know where they ended up going. Then, Uncle Vernon did what Dudley had always done to me, except he had his belt in his hand then entire time, and made lashings in my back while he did it." Harry trembled as he spoke. "Once he left me, bleeding, he left the house, and I managed to crawl to the landline and call 999. I just couldn't take any of it anymore..."

"So, you saved yourself, then?" Severus asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Harry turned around then, looking at him over his shoulder. "Yeah, I guess. I guess one could say that," he replied.

The two stared at one another for several moments, all in silence, not wanting to be the first one to break the gaze. Even though there had been animosity between the two of them for the past five years, both knew that things had changed that night, given that Harry had had a crisis, and had gone running to Severus about it. And while both also knew that things could potentially cross a line, neither one of them was in the proper frame of mind to make the first move—given Harry's turmoil and Severus's reluctance to break the bond they'd inexplicably forged. And, as green continued meeting black, they were content with the knowledge that something had shifted between them, but neither one knew just how far the other would go.

"Tea, Harry?" Severus asked.

Harry blinked. "You called me 'Harry'."

Severus swallowed. "I did."

Harry gave a small smile to him then. "I would like that," he replied.