Author's Note: Thanks for the R&R! :}

Warning: Mature content. Reader discretion is advised.

Chapter 11 — Grave Reconnaissance

"You must be Draco! I'm your cousin from California." The man, who had the enthusiasm and accent to match, thrust his hand towards her stunned companion. The blonde shook it uncertainly. "My name is Castor—Castor Riddle."

A string of expletives flew through Hermione's head. Draco just stared at him with wide eyes. She managed to recover first. "Er—won't you come in?"

"Oh thanks!" Castor said while flip-flopping his way into the entry, side stepping a still speechless Draco. Hermione tugged him inside and closed the door. "Sweet digs, man!" Castor was looking curiously down the hallways.

Hermione elbowed Draco. "Thank you."

"I'm Hermione Granger," Hermione extended her hand, which the wizard shook with a bob of his head.

"Nice ta meet ya! Are you family too?"

"No, I'm a friend of Draco's. I didn't even know he had a cousin." She found it easy to keep her tone cheerful, as Castor maintained the enthusiasm of a treasure hunter in a new cache.

"I didn't know I had a cousin either... until I got the letter!"

"Letter?" Draco finally spoke.

"Yeah! From my father—my birth father—to be sent to me when he died. Sorry if you were fond of him. I never knew the guy." Castor spoke while rummaging in his bag then producing said letter. "I just had to come here and meet you all. I'm awfully jet lagged though!"

"Jet lagged?" Draco asked.

"Oh! I forgot. Pure-bloods rule, death to muggles and all that. Ehhh." He made a cross with his two index fingers, screwed up his face, and leaned away from them. "I'm not fond of apparating so I took a plane… and a bus, and another bus, and a cab… boy you guys are hard to find."

"You took a plane?"

"Castor means to say he is tired from his trip. Perhaps we should prepare accommodations for his stay," Hermione told Draco. "You will be staying with us, of course?"

"Dude that would be awesome!"

"Oh, right. Bear!" The kazoo-elf popped up in front of Draco.

"HOLYHELL!" Castor screamed, while dropping his backpack and flailing around a bit. Evidently they don't have house elves in America.

"Will you prepare the red room for Master Riddle?" Bear bowed respectfully and disapparated.

Their guest mouthed the words "Master Riddle" to himself with delight.

Draco gestured down the center hallway she knew led to a staircase. He escorted Hermione and spoke with Castor who was walking on his other side. "You seem to have brought the weather with you," Draco said, evidently deciding small talk was his safest bet.

"I do that a lot! It's like I never leave home," the man said whimsically.

"Where in California are you from, Castor?" Hermione asked.

"San Diego. Best of the best in the west."

"Oh I've heard it's lovely there."

"That's an understatement! Never had a reason ta leave until I heard about you all."

"You've never left the States?" They had reached the third floor and turned down a dark corridor.

"Not until now! Sure is quiet here. Where is everyone?"

"They're out," Draco said rather shortly.

They walked in silence to the far end of the Manor. The red room was aptly named. The walls, the drapes, the bedspread. Even the spines of the books in the glass-inlay cases were some shade of red.

"Make yourself at home. Bear will assist you should you want for anything while you are here," Draco said stiffly. "Just call his name."

"Bear!" Castor yelled, and the house elf appeared with a loud crack on the bed in front of him. "Holy shit it worked!"

Draco and Hermione exchanged glances. "We have a few errands to run, but we'll try to be back soon."

Castor nodded his head. "Thanks man! Great ta meet ya both!" He shook their hands again and they left him alone to explore his newfound crimson haven.

After they were an appreciable distance from the door, Draco called Bear. The house elf eagerly received his orders to keep an eye on their guest and to get Draco if he saw anything out of the ordinary.

Apprehension clearly lit his features as he held out his hand to her and apparated them to St. Mungo's.

"Miss Lovegood, I really think they are gone now."

Severus tried to hold his temper while the blonde witch danced around the room spraying all of the corners for frocknuts—whatever those were.

As word of Severus's role in the war had spread, a steady flow of gifts from admirers started arriving. Certain of Harry's friends took it upon themselves to deliver their well wishes in person, and the infernal boy had threatened to sing the Weird Sisters to him for lullabies if he wasn't civil to them.

"Just one more!" she said. His room now smelled vaguely like rotten cabbage mixed with fall. "Okay I'm finished!"

"How kind of you."

Harry and Ron were sitting at the round table in the room rehashing the most recent massacre of the Hollyhead Harpies by the Chudley Cannons with great bravado. Due to Draco's absence, Harry's training had not progressed. Every time he tried to teach the younger man himself, Severus would get vertigo and have to stop, so he sat hearing Harry's thoughts, the boys' conversations, his own musings, and Luna's singsong voice all at the same time.

He was able to keep his own thoughts well-schooled, and Harry had a one track mind when it came to Quidditch, so the morning was not altogether unpleasant. If only he wasn't twice as old as any of his companions, perhaps he wouldn't feel so profoundly out of place.

'And here I thought I was helping you stave off loneliness.'

Severus ignored Harry's unwarranted comment, but the strange tiny blue dragon that had taken up residence on his shoulder let out a plume of smoke as it bobbed its head. Luna's pet had immediately hopped and flapped his way over to Severus when she came over to give him and Harry a hug.

"He can sense feelings; he thinks you are lonely," Luna had whispered to him with a sad but knowing slow blink.

Severus had to admit he was immediately fond of Blue, and, once Luna finished tidying up his room and sat down on his bed, she was more than happy to tell him all about the curious creature.

The two sets of conversations were punctuated by the arrival of Draco and Hermione who both looked like they had seen a ghost.

Luna hopped up to give them both a hug before announcing, "You've both just had an experience."

Draco looked at everyone in the room. When his eyes fell on Severus he said: "Apparently I have a twenty-one year old cousin from California. He showed up on my doorstep this morning with a letter to be delivered upon his father's death. His name is Castor Riddle."

Severus' heart spasmed as everyone turned to look at him. "I knew nothing about this," he said somewhat defensively. "You have reason to believe his story?"

Draco took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. "He is definitely family. The wards recognized him as such. He could not have gotten past the front gate alone otherwise."

"But do you think he could really be a—a Riddle?" Harry's gulp was audible from across the room, and the young group once again looked to Severus for an answer.

"I don't know, but I suppose it's possible."

"Who would want to go to bed with that?" Ron bit out, his disgust palpable.

"Oh, Ronald..."

"Who says they went willingly?" Draco asked.

"And carried a baby to term? I don't think that's likely." The redhead still sat at the table, periodically looking at Harry.

"Yes because we don't know anyone that was so feverishly devoted to Voldemort as to border on worshiping him as a god." Hermione unconsciously clutched at her left arm as she spoke.

"Bellatrix?" Luna's questioning tone was soft as she scratched under Blue's chin. He had evidently felt the tension rise in the room and frantically sought shelter in his mummy's lap.

Ron's next words surprised everyone. "Well, it would make sense, especially for a bloke so obsessed with contingency planning. I mean, what's the next best thing to immortality?" He paused, looking as if they should all be shouting out the answer. Instead he was met with confusion and some shaking heads "Children! Look, Voldemort was the last heir of Slytherin. What if the whole immortality thing didn't work out for him? Would he really take the chance of letting the Slytherin line die out?"

Severus nodded. "Mister Weasley is correct." A sentence he had never uttered. "I don't know why I never thought of it before."

"Well, even if he had procreated, someone would have known about it. If Bellatrix was pregnant, someone would have seen, right? Certainly her husband wouldn't approve?" Harry asked the room.

"People have done far more heinous things in service of the Dark Lord than let another man go to bed with their wife," Severus said.

"My mother would probably know. I do remember her saying no one noticed she was pregnant until a few months before I was due." Draco's voice sounded hollow.

"And if she was showing only slightly it would be easy to hide. And when she did need to disappear, if the Dark Lord said she was on a mission, no one would have even questioned it."

"You mother might still know something, or have suspected. She is her sister," Hermione said.

Draco nodded. "I'll ask her when I can speak with her."

"I can also perform a test to determine if Bellatrix is indeed Castor's mother. I'll just need a bit of his hair." The girl's normally bossy voice was apprehensive.

"Well you're good at stealing people's hair, Hermione. You go get it." Harry winked at her.

"What I don't get is why was Castor sent away? Why wouldn't Voldemort parade around his heir?" Ron asked.

"It would have made him a target, too," Draco said.

"More likely because he would not have wanted to share power. Castor was only to find out his lineage if Voldemort died," Severus pointed out.

Blue was now completely hiding under Luna's skirt. He appeared to be tickling her with whatever he was doing, since the witch periodically squeaked as she spoke: "Harry you said that Voldemort was—eek!—ashamed of his family name. So if he—heehee—really wanted to hide his heir, what is the last—ooh—surname in the world anyone would think he'd use?"

"Riddle," Harry answered while nodding his agreement.

"And where is the—heeheehee—absolute last place in the world anyone would think he'd send him?"

They all answered in unison: "America."

"Oh Blue stop that!" She yanked the tiny dragon out from under her skirt, placing him on her shoulder where he promptly hid in her hair.

"Alright but why's he here? To finish dear old dad's noble work?" Harry asked.

"I don't think so." Hermione pulled an antiquated piece of parchment from a small bag on her hip and passed it to him. "The letter he received doesn't say much, and I think it was the first correspondence he'd had from—his father."

Severus unfolded the stiff paper. He recognized the Dark Lord's jerky handwriting at once. That more than anything brought home the reality of the situation. It was dated just a few days after Draco's birth and told him specifically to seek out his cousin.

"What's more," Hermione continued, "Dumbledore said it himself: magic, especially dark magic, leaves traces. Castor had absolutely no trace of dark magic on him. I checked. He makes the rest of us look like... dementors."

"Who are his adoptive parents? Is he still living at home?"

"We didn't get much chance to speak with him; he was tired after traveling..." Draco looked at Hermione for help.

"He took a plane here—muggle transportation. Apparently he doesn't like apparating," she said.

"Or he's not very good at it."

Ron snorted. "Well that would be embarrassing if the heir of Slytherin turned out to be a squib. I'd ship him to America too."

"I don't think so. He had plenty of trace magic. He might just not be terribly confident, and remember the culture is different over there," Hermione lectured him with a frown.

"Yeah it's like an entirely different country. Ow!" Ron recoiled when Hermione started flogging him with her purse, which made strangely deep thudding noises as it struck its mark.

"Anyway," she continued once Ron was out of reach, "He's resting now. Due to the time difference he likely will be asleep for several hours. We'll be able to ask him more when he wakes up."

"Yeah like 'Say, have you tortured any muggles lately?'" Ron was wisely hiding behind Harry now.

"I told you he hasn't used dark magic."

"You don't need magic to torture people. Where's your sense of creativity?"

"Just because his father was a dark wizard doesn't mean he will be. He didn't even know his father!"

"'Sins of the father', Hermione. You've said yourself traits are inherited. It's only a matter of time before he turns." Ron sounded miffed.

"Traits like hair color... ear shape! Even if behavioral traits are inheritable there is no guarantee they will manifest in the same way, or even at all. People still have free will. Voldemort grew up in an orphanage far away from anyone who could possibly understand him. It sounds like Castor had a family that cared for him."

"Great, even Voldemort made sure his kid was better looked after than I was," Harry said grumpily.

Severus saw the most peculiar memory flit to the surface of Harry's mind at that moment. His uncle was yelling and shoved him into what appeared to be a cupboard. Severus made a mental note to ask Harry about it later.

"Yeah and if that's your argument, Harry should have slaughtered half the school by fifth year."

"Thanks, Ron."

"Always looking out for you, mate," Ron winked.

"The point is—"

"The point is he's the only… relatively sane family I've got left. I, for one, am not about to give up on him. If you'll excuse me I'm going to see my mother." Draco turned on his heel and left the room.

"Draco's right." Severus spoke quickly. "We have no reason to believe he is anything but what he says he is, and we should not give into paranoia. Miss Granger, will you perform the test you spoke of as soon as possible? It's in Castor's best interest to know for sure who his birth parents are as well."

"I can do it now. Wikket!" Severus stifled his surprise to see a house elf he recognized as belonging to the Malfoy's pop up next to Hermione. The girl crouched down to speak at her level. "Has our guest been causing any problems?"

"No Miss, he's still asleep."

"Oh good. Could you go pull a few hairs out of his head?"

"Hairs, Miss?"

"Yes, and bring them to me, please."

"Of course Miss." Wikket popped out of sight.

"Thank you." Hermione said to the empty air.

Luna got up and started to drift towards the door. "I think I'll see if the fifth floor has pudding and go check on Draco."

Hermione looked as if she might object, but ended up just stepping aside to allow the girl passage.

"So you really think Castor is alright?" Harry asked Hermione as soon as Luna had left. The witch just nodded. "And there's no way you can verify that Voldemort is his father?"

"Not without some bit of him," she said morosely, looking at Severus.

"I know of no other way," he said, "but that does not mean a way does not exist."

"I'll—"

"—go to the library," Ron and Harry finished for her in unison.

"What about his father's father? Could you confirm he was Castor's grandfather?" Harry asked.

She nodded. "We would need to exhume his remains, assuming we could find them."

"I know where they are," Harry said. Severus had been too caught up in his own thoughts to pay attention to Harry's. He now saw flashes of what had happened in the cemetery the night Voldemort came back. It was nothing like Lucius had described, the man having boasted to him about being present for the Dark Lord's return to power at every opportunity.

The last image he saw was Harry's parents coming out of Voldemort's wand. Seeing the vision of Lily without warning nearly rent his heart, and they were soon both struggling to control their emotions. He wanted to offer some words of comfort to the boy, but again nothing came.

Harry's friends were apparently used to him needing stretched out moments to collect himself, as they waited patiently for him to continue.

"Little Hangleton. That's where the tri-wizard cup took Cedric and me."

The house elf known as Wikket popped back in and handed Hermione something.

"Thank you, Wikket. Did you wake him?"

"No, Miss. Wikket was most careful." She bowed graciously.

"Excellent job!" She bent down to hug the elf who looked slightly uncomfortable and disapparated the moment she was released.

Hermione went over to the table and muttered a sanitation charm over it. She pulled two empty vials, a stoppered bottle, and a parcel out of her bag. She unwrapped the parcel to reveal a rimmed tray containing a plane of clear agarose gel.

She then sanitized the two vials, placing the hairs Wikket had brought her in one, and a long dark hair she had pulled from her purse in the other. A drop from the bottle was added to each vial making them foam and sizzle, and Hermione upended them into narrow rectangular depressions in the gel.

She pointed her wand at the opposite end of the tray and appeared to be pulling the solutions she had made through the clear substance. They were periodically leaving dark bands behind as they moved through the medium. Once she was done she compared the two tracks and proclaimed, "Bellatrix is Castor's mother."

"Okay, let's go to the cemetery so we can run the other test. Better to get this over with before you have to talk to him again," Harry said. Hermione nodded, wrapping up the tray and placing it back in her bag with the other supplies.

"You sure that's a good idea, mate? How far is the cemetery?" Ron asked, looking between Severus and Harry.

"It's not much further than Malfoy Manner. If I'm in pain I'll come back straightaway." Harry was looking at Severus, his statement was more of a question. 'And I'd like to see how this works when I'm far away.' Severus nodded.

Ron and Hermione both took hold of one of Harry's hands. He turned on the spot and they were gone in a blink. He immediately understood what Harry had meant by feeling 'strained.' He felt like someone had grabbed his brains with a hook and was trying to yank them out through his ear. Strangely, it was not painful, but he felt the pressure of it build and assumed pain was not far off.

'Can you hear me now?' He heard Harry think at him as clearly as if he was in the room.

'Yes, and you?'

'Perfectly. How are your brains?'

'As you aptly described, they feel strained.'

'Brain strain,' Harry said knowingly. 'Tell me if it hurts you. It never started to hurt me, but I came back when you were waking up last time.'

He could pick up thoughts and sounds of what Harry was experiencing. The boy was focusing on his task at hand rather than dwelling on the past, which made the emotional overflow minimal. He saw an image of the overgrown cemetery Harry stood in, and Riddle, Sr.'s moss-covered gravestone. The sound of leaves and twigs crunching was strangely sharper and the feel of the enveloping fog strangely heavier than he knew they would have been to him.

Harry shivered as Hermione floated bones out of the ground and into a heavy canvas satchel which disappeared into the same little bag on her hip.

'This feels different,' Harry thought, ghosting his hand over Riddle's gravestone. 'I think someone else has been here.'

'It's a graveyard, of course other people have been there.'

Harry's mental himming-and-hawing indicated he was not convinced. 'Maybe. I'd like to ask around and see if anyone else has been talking about the Riddles. Small town, big gossip. Maybe someone knows something.'

'You are far too recognizable. If there are any wizards there…'

'I'll use Polyjuice potion.'

'I'm beginning to think you've developed a habit.'

Harry chuckled. 'I'm sending Hermione back to start on the test. Ron and I will be back soon.' The boy's thoughts became pleasantly cloudy.

Though they were unable to block each other out, they had learned to tune each other out, much like one could ignore a nearby conversation or radio program.

'Did you just call me white noise?' Harry asked with feigned indignation.

'No, no. Grey noise at least.'

Hermione entered the room a moment later looking rather grim. "Did everything go as planned?"

"Yes, I just don't particularly like grave robbing innocent people."

'Tell her Voldy's father was a wanker.'

"It is regrettable this task has fallen to you." His attempt at sympathy was ignored.

Hermione transfigured the table in the room into a long skinny metallic table that was rather taller than the original. She pulled out the canvas bag and began floating out the hundreds of bones, one at a time. After an hour she had a full skeleton organized on the table, with one notable exception: it was missing its left femur.

"Harry said to expect that. Apparently Wormtail used it in the ritual to raise Voldemort." The witch answered his unspoken question.

"I see."

Wand in hand, Hermione pointed it at each of the vertebrae in turn. As far as he could tell, she had adapted muggle technology that he was only vaguely familiar with to perform her tests. She looked disappointed when she reached the end of the spinal column. "What exactly are you looking for?" Severus asked.

"I need a sample in order to run electrophoresis. I was hoping there would be some remaining tissue on the bones but it has all decomposed. I'll have to grind down some of the bone itself until I can find enough material. I was just hoping to avoid any destructive testing."

The witch pulled a mortar and pestle from her bag after rummaging around for a full minute. She set it on the table and gingerly plucked a tiny bone from the skeleton's foot. "Is there anything you don't have in there?" he mused.

"My sense of human dignity."

She began furiously beating and grinding the bone to a pulp. He could not avoid analyzing her overzealous technique, and he looked up to see angry tears in her red eyes. "Allow me," he said. He took her work and began to gently grind up the material. The action made his arm ache, but it felt good to be useful.

"Thank you," she said, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve.

"I simply did not want you to contaminate your sample," he said dismissively, but couldn't help feeling happy when she seemed to calm down.

She sat quietly for a while as Severus continued to grind the bone to dust. The methodic grinding was a familiar sound to relax to, and Hermione seemed to be lulled by it as well, for she laid her head down on the table.

"I'm going to have Wikket sew handkerchiefs up all of your sleeves." Draco's sudden arrival startled Hermione, and he handed her a red cotton square from behind. "What's wrong baby doll?" He asked under his breath, his chin nearly touching her shoulder.

"Oh I'm just being silly. Are you alright?" Her eyes were dry immediately, and she was fawning over Draco a second later.

Severus rolled his eyes and ground a little harder. You're just jealous old man.

It took him a moment to realize the thought had originated from himself and was not Harry berating him.

From what Draco said, Narcissa had come out of her catatonic state on her own. She was refusing to talk to anyone, including her own son, except to tell anyone that would listen that she wasn't going to talk to anyone. Her healer had assured Draco that this was progress.

"What have you been up to?" Gray eyes peeked over her, noticing the skeleton on the table for the first time.

"Paternity testing."

"Oh fun," Draco said.

"Oh dear," Severus said. He had gotten a wisp of jumbled thoughts from Harry, just moments before him and the redhead stumbled through the door. Draco and Hermione jumped out of their way.

"Great Aunt Tessie!" Ron squealed going to hug the table full of bones, but Draco held him back. He and Harry collapsed to the floor in a fit of giggles.

"Oh dear," Hermione echoed.

"She called me dear! Teeheehee! Shhh—don't tell the ferret!" Ron's voice was pitched high as he cackled. His head shook unstably as he tried to hold his index finger up to his mouth, but ended up poking it up his nose.

"Schtuff it, Ginger. You know I'm the only one you'll ever love." Harry slurred terribly as he lunged at Ron, knocking him over. The two rolled on the floor trying to beat each other senseless, or perhaps undress each other. Severus could not tell which.

Hermione cleared her throat loudly. "You boys were meant to be asking after the Riddles in Little Hangleton, remember?"

"Oh!" Harry said, trying to pick himself up. Hermione continued to glare at them, which left Draco to help Harry to his feet and hold him at arm's length to steady him. "Oh yes. We did that, we did that." Ron nodded vigorously having managed to get himself standing all by himself.

"And?" the witch prompted.

"Well apparently there is nothing to do in the town exchept go to the pub—"

"To The Hanged Man!" Ron shouted enthusiastically, toasting the air with an empty hand.

"To The Hanged Man!" Harry echoed, and toasted Ron back, "—so we thought well 'when in Rome' and all that. So we went over there, and—um—what was I talking about?"

"You were finding out if anyone knew about a Riddle showing up around the time Castor was born?" Severus prompted, though his patience was not entirely feigned.

"Oh yes! You are—just—so—awesome." Harry held out a hand towards Severus as he punctuated each word with a slight whimper. "And they hadn't heard anything." Harry's pout was highly exaggerated and his words sounded whiny.

"That was tragic, but they were SO NICE though." Ron's eyes had grown wide with reverence as he spoke.

"Yes, so nice, mmm." Harry half-mooned his eyes and swayed slightly back and forth a moment.

"That's all?" Hermione said pursing her lips.

"Hmm? Oh! Well they were just so nice so we did some more re-cog-nizzance for the—cause—and all. Erm, turns out someone else had come inquiring about the Riddles just a few years ago!"

Ron leaned hard against the metal table, shoving it into Hermione's breast bone. Harry took her whimper of pain as excited surprise.

"That's what I said!"

"Who?" Severus asked.

"That's what an owl says!" Ron exclaimed.

"Who was asking about the Riddles?"

Harry's eyes grew wide. "Dunno! I wasn't in the pub a few years ago; I was in the schmemetery getting cut up by the man that had me orphaned, 'member?!" Harry said with something akin to panic.

"I mean did you get a description?"

"Oh!" He sat down heavily on the hospital bed, looking between the older man and the bone dust. "Don't sneeze!" He laughed at his joke. "They said she was strange. I mean black. I mean her hair was black! And pale—her skin was pale—and skin colored. She was short and—ah—curvaceous. She gave her name as Anna? They all said she was really nice." Harry's eyes were completely glazed over as he nodded with a dopey grin. Ron had plopped down on a chair, falling asleep with his head back.

"This is done," Severus said, handing the mortar back to Hermione.

She sealed it and put her supplies away. "I think I need more room to work," Hermione said as she looked disparagingly at the two inebriated personages in the room. Bones were being floated back into her canvas bag and the table returned to normal when Ron was jarred out of his slumber.

"Huh?" He looked around. "Bye Aunt Tessie! Oy c'mere a sec." Ron slurred at Draco, grabbing him by the sleeve and pulling him into the hallway.

Hermione had finished packing and cleaning. The boys were only in the hallway a moment before Severus heard shouting.

"I don't have it anymore!"

"That's not the word on the street." Ron said mockingly, but Draco did not reply.

The blonde stepped into the room a moment later taking Hermione by the elbow. "Are you ready?" He asked her gently, though the previous conversation had clearly agitated him. Hermione just nodded, and they disappeared a second later.

Ron entered afterward, red-faced, followed by Luna. "They had pudding!" she said. Blue was perched on her right arm and appeared to be licking at a blob of chocolate in her hand. "Ron you don't look well."

"I'm—hiccup—fine."

"Oh my. Come with me. Daddy has a million hangover cures."

Ron let the girl lead him out of the room and down the hallway, presumably to floo to her home in Devon.

"And then there were two." Harry gave Severus a sidelong look, and then turned to face him. With amazing agility Harry abruptly pulled himself to sit astride Severus, resting his weight on his legs and his arms on either side of him.

Harry's face was flushed and pleasantly unfocused. The edges of his thoughts became tinged with desire as he leaned minutely into Severus. "Potter," he said warningly.

"Don't call me that!" Harry abruptly sat back. "That name is everything you hate. I don't want you to hate me anymore! I didn't even know him. I'm sorry for what they did to you—for what he did to you. I hate him for what he did to you!" His voice was sad and angry. The hopeless green eyes blinking at him made Severus want to keen.

"It's okay," Severus said awkwardly.

"No it's not okay! Even if you stop seeing him when you look at me you'll start seeing her. You'll never just see me—"

"You need to rest."

"I want you to see me."

"You are sitting on top of me; I assure you I see you! I see you!"

Severus thought he saw a tear streaking its way down Harry's cheek before he hid his face with his hands.

"Harry," he said and reached out to pull the younger man's hands down. "You need to rest." His voice was firm, but he pulled Harry towards him gently. Severus let his bed down flat, feeling less pain with each passing hour, and slightly expanded it.

The messy hair and shaky hands moved without resistance as he laid Harry next to him. Evidently Harry's newfound calm had come at the expense of dealing with his feelings, a concept Severus was only too familiar with. "Rest," he repeated. Harry's dozing eyes were fighting to stay open but he eventually gave in. Severus took off his wire rimmed glasses and set them on the table.

The boy's spinning thoughts started to calm as Harry passed into sleep, and then into dreams, but his dreams immediately became violent.

"Kill the spare," he heard Voldemort hiss, and then watched Pettigrew snuff out Cedric Diggory's life without a second thought.

He watched Pettigrew plunge his knife into Harry's arm, then saw Harry and Voldemort dueling, four spirits emerging from his wand as before. He watched enraptured as Lily spoke tenderly to her son.

The nightmares continued. Severus shivered to think of what Harry might have seen in his own dreams. He put his hand on Harry's head gently, surprising himself with the sudden protective feelings he was having. Not like before, when his actions were simply of loyalty to his mother, but actual feelings… towards Harry, he marveled, but decided to analyze it another day.

He whispered a blessing over Harry. It might do nothing, but it made him feel better, and he thought he detected the slightest easing of tension in his face as he lay staring at him, somewhat in wonder.

Severus focused on clearing his head and relegating the fitful nightmares to the back of his mind, praying for patience, or guidance, or a miracle. He would need all three.