Bloody sage like advice. If that all there was to it, Severus wouldn’t have been in Albus’ office, asking for help in the first place and if Albus thought it was so bloody easy, he should give it a try.

"You shouldn’t point those things out, because it’s inappropriate."

"Inappropriate?"

"Yes, it might make someone feel... uncomfortable."

"Why?"

"Not everyone goes around doing whatever it is you’ve done that’s in that book."

"So, I should lie?"

"No, not lie, just not talk about it."

"Isn’t that the same as lying?"

"Sometimes. However, there are times when it’s better to not say anything."

"Like when?"

"Like when it might hurt someone’s feelings."

"Hurt their feelings?"

"Make them feel sad or guilty, or just upset them."

"Did I hurt Draco’s feelings?"

"No, I don’t doubt you made his day."

"Then why should I have said nothing?"

Harry had the reasoning skills of an eight-year-old and it was maddening. He’d managed to keep his calm for all of thirty minutes, after which he’d decided that he was better off going to bed for another few hours. Especially when his developed an insistent, throbbing behind his eyes. His sleep the night before had been plagued with nightmares, his body was sore and getting worse with every hour.

At least he could be sure there was no nerve damage to repair; it would have shown itself by now in the form of shaking, possibly jerky twitches if it was bad enough. Leaving a bewildered Harry in the living room, he told the boy not to bother him and downed a general healing potion before laying on the bed... and opening his eyes again to a clock reading one hour till dinner.

He didn’t even remember going to sleep.

Harry was curled up next to him, in the same manner he had been that morning. Carefully, Severus extracted his person from the boy’s clutches and Harry mewled softly, his fists clenching into the warm quilt where Severus had been laying. The boy’s trousers were missing, but at least he’d kept the shirt on this time.

Severus went into his living room and glared at the essays stacked beside his desk. Honestly, he didn’t know why he bothered assigning them. They were mostly trash and all they did was eat up time he didn’t have. With a sigh, he went to his mantle and turned his crystal glass up, half filling it from the canter of aged whiskey that sat next to it.

It wasn’t often that Severus drank, he didn’t like the way it impaired his senses. With his luck, he would be stone cold drunk and Voldemort would summon him. A sobering potion could fix the physical affects, but the mental ones were a little more difficult to remedy. Sitting at his desk, Severus took a sip and set the glass aside, starting in on the first of them.

Ten papers in, his red ink bottle was half empty, as was the decanter. The clock read, ‘Time for Dinner’ and his stomach concurred, growling deeply. Severus was accustomed to going days without food, especially after Death Eater meetings. Dealing with Voldemort wasn’t the most appetizing of occupations. However, there was a teenage boy in the other room and Severus was well acquainted with the bottomless pits they called stomachs. Boys Harry’s age could eat twice their weight five times a day and if memory served, Harry hadn’t eaten since he’d gotten there. That was nearly twenty four hours ago.

Harry had shifted on the bed over the last hour, curling himself around Severus’ pillow, clutching it to his chest, a half smile on his face. He looked even younger in his sleep and Severus blamed it on the alcohol that his eyes lingered a little too long the pale expanse of bare legs. Draco’s shirt was smaller and with Harry curled up the bottom curve of hid arse peaked out from under it.

Scowling, Severus picked up Harry’s trousers from the floor and threw at the sleeping form, watching with some satisfaction as Harry groaned and curled tighter around the pillow before relaxing, turning onto his back to look at Severus. His smile widened for a moment before it opened wide in a yawn.

The shirt rucked up as Harry stretched and Severus found himself staring at a pair of familiar, lose fitting black boxers. "Are those mine?"

Harry looked down at the boxers and frowned. "Draco said I had to wear them." He lifted the shirt further, exposing his navel and the soft trail of dark hair leading down to the waist band that sat too low on his hips. "Can I take them off?"

"No!" He really shouldn’t have had that whiskey. "Put on your trousers. We’re going to dinner."

"Going?" Harry got up from the bed, pulling the trousers on while he hopped after Severus. "Where are we going?"

"Are you ready?"

Harry looked down, buttoning the trousers hastily and stood straight. "Yes."

With a nod, Severus went to the door and opened it, motioning for Harry to go through. Harry only blinked at him, his eyes wide with sudden mistrust. Severus crossed his arms over his chest . "What is it?"

"I can’t..." Harry clasped his hands in front of him, tilting head to the ground submissively. "I’m not supposed to go outside."

Severus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "Are you hungry?"

Harry nodded wordlessly.

"We have to leave the room if you want to eat."

Harry looked back down and shook his head. "Not allowed."

He pinched harder, taking deep, steadying breathes. "What, exactly, are you not allowed to do?"

Harry’s fingers were pulling down the shirt sleeve nervously. "I’m not allowed to leave Master’s room."

Keep calm. It wasn’t the boy’s fault. "Haven’t you already left Master’s room?"

"I guess. Yes?"

"So, then I don’t see how you could make it any worse by leaving my quarters."

Harry seemed to consider it, worrying the sleeve. "I don’t want to go outside."

It was said with the air of someone who didn’t think his opinion mattered, but need to say it anyway. Severus managed to stop the sigh this time. "We are not going outside, Harry. We’ll still be in the castle."

Harry’s head lifted a little and he looked up at Severus through his bangs. "Really?"

Severus nodded and Harry swallowed thickly. "Promise?" Severus nodded again and Harry finally stepped forward on shaky legs, latching into Severus’ arm the moment he was within reach.

The boy visibly trembled as they stepped out of the room, his head jerking back and forth as he glanced up and down the hallway. With slow steps, Severus urged him wordlessly down the hall. It was slowly going, Harry taking baby steps and he was almost considering going back and taking dinner in his quarters, when Harry stopped altogether, his mouth open and his eyes wide, all fear of being ‘outside’ seemingly gone.

Following his gaze, Severus realized that Harry was staring at the portrait of Lord VonKethra. At one point, he had been a powerful wizard, but his thirst for fame had driven him into the open at a time when sorcerers were often burned at the stake. Burning, VonKethra could have survived, unfortunately, he had the misfortune to be caught without his wand and the crowd that cornered him thought bludgeoning was a more affective means of dispatching one’s enemy.

The Lord raised an eyebrow at the bright eyed boy staring so openly a him. "Didn’t your mother ever teach you it’s rude to stare."

"I don’t have a mother." Heedless of the man’s anger, Harry reached out a hand, giggling in surprise when the leg he had been reaching for jerked out from under his fingers. Harry looked back at Severus. "It moved!"

Apparently, the Dark Lord hadn’t had pictures in his suite, or if he had, they hadn’t been magic. Severus had taken it for granted that if Harry knew about magic, he knew about everything, but he should have known that wouldn’t be the case. "Yes, they do that. Now, come along."

As they passed another portrait, this one of three women having tea, Harry kept one hand firmly latched onto Severus, reaching out with the other. His fingers brushed one of the women’s petticoats, smiling as she gave an indignant cry.

"Stop that."

Harry looked up at him, "Why?"

"It’s... rude." Thankfully there were no portraits lining the stairs that led from the dungeon into the hallway that would lead to the Great Hall. Stopping outside the doors, Severus moved Harry to stand in front of him and leveled his gaze at the boy. "You will be eating with me at the Head Table. Just walk to the end of the room and I’ll show you were to sit. Don’t say anything."

Harry gave Severus a dissatisfied pout, mostly because he was annoyed at having been detached from the man. Severus was safe. Turning around reluctantly, Harry pushed open the large, wooden doors and stepped through. His feet stopped of their own accord as his brain faltered, trying to register the sheer number of people in the room. There had to be hundreds of them. Some his age, some older, younger, all of them wearing nearly identical black robes and sitting at four tables stretching the length of the room. The room, the size of which Harry could never have imagined, was nearly as mind boggling as the number of people filling it.

His eyes moved to the ceiling and his body went cold. Dark clouds were moving over the star strewn sky. He loved stars. Sometimes, when Master was asleep he’d sneak into the bathroom and look at them through the window. He’d imagined that if he could just reach through the window, he could touch them.

As eyes began focusing on him, his chest tightened and his throat felt constricted. He saw Draco sitting at the table to the far right, he saw Professor Dumbledore at the head of the room, along with the two women who’d been in Severus’ room the other night. However, that information was stuck behind the far more prominent notion that, besides them, he knew no one. Not a single other person out of all those hundreds.

He wanted to say something, anything, maybe that he liked the ceiling, but it had become painfully silent. Holding his breath, Harry stepped back, focused only on returning to the safety of Severus’ chambers. He didn’t even know if he could find his way back, but he’d rather be wandering the halls, lost, than in this room with all these people.

Within two steps he bumped into Severus, and turned around, throwing his arms tightly around the man’s waist. The smell of herbs and Severus filled his nostrils, making him feel warm again and he suddenly wanted nothing more than to breath in the scent as he had the night before, to feel protected from the eyes threatening to burn wholes into him with their staring.

Hands grip his shoulders, trying to pry him away, but he tightened his hold. Severus looked down at the messy black hair. The arms around him were making it hard to breath. Looking up at the headmaster he shrugged, trying unsuccessfully to again dislodge the boy.

"What’s wrong?" Severus’ whisper was barely audible, but the silence in the Great Hall made it sound like a small explosion.

Harry shook his head desperately. Leaning down, Severus managed to pick up two words, repeated over and over in a frantic, whispered mantra, "Too many. Too many." Then, "Please."

Shooting Albus a piercing gaze that meant he’d need to speak with him later, Severus backed them out of the hall, closing the doors behind them.

"Harry, I need you to look at me." The bright green of Harry’s eyes were almost entirely covered in black pupil, dilated with fear. "We’re going back to my rooms, but you’ll have to let me go so I can walk."

With great effort, Harry looked around the hall, relaxing minutely when he saw no one there. He nodded, his chest unpleasantly tight as he unwound his arms and, instead, grabbed Severus’ hand, gripping it with both of his. Severus considered arguing that the two of them holding hands was inappropriate, even considering the current circumstances, but Harry was still looking at him with those too-wide eyes and he sighed, giving in.

At least there was no one around to see and, beside, the important matter at hand was getting Harry back to the room. He’d try explaining propriety again later. Much later.

*****

When they got back to the room, Severus had just enough time to get the door closed before Harry wrapped his arms around him and buried his face in the folds of Severus’ robes and refused to let go, shaking violently and refusing to speak. After several minutes attempting to pry the boy off him, Severus settled with slowly moving them to the sofa and sitting down. Harry knelt half on the floor, half in Severus’ lap, his grip never faltering.

"Harry, you can let go, we’re back in my rooms. It’s only you and me." The head shook against Severus’ leg. Hesitantly, he put a hand on Harry’s back and began moving it in circles, as he had seen parents do with distraught children.

It took nearly an hour, but by degrees, the grip relaxed and the shaking stuttered to a stop. Eventually, Severus noticed that Harry’s breathing was deep and even. He’d fallen asleep. Pulling out his wand, he levitated Harry into the bedroom and set him on the bed, pulling the quilts up around him.

He couldn’t do this. He wasn’t equipped to deal with a child like Harry. Come to that, he was hardly equipped to deal with any child. The only reason he had chosen teaching as a profession was because it was the surest way to stay alive. If he hadn’t been such an asset to Voldemort as a spy, even his position as Potions Master might not have saved him.

The sound of his door opening alerted him that someone had come in, most likely Albus, checking to make sure that Harry was alright. With a last glance at the peaceful figure, curled into a tight ball on his bed, Severus stepped out of the room and pulled the door mostly shut behind him.

Albus had already taken a seat on the sofa and Severus joined him, falling into the worn fabric with a great sigh. "He’s sleeping." Albus nodded and Severus looked over, feeling lost and uncertain, "I’m not entirely sure what’s wrong with him, though I gather it had something to do with the number of people in the room. He was saying ‘too many’ when I took him out."

Again, Albus nodded and Severus waited for the sage like advice that he knew was coming. "I believe that Harry may be suffering from something the muggles call Agoraphobia - a fear of crowds and public places. We know he was kept in a single room the last fourteen years and I highly doubt that he met a great many people in that time. Something as large as the Great Hall must have seemed intimidating, let alone when it’s full of students. He’ll be fine, given time."

"How?" Severus leveled Albus with his most intimidating glare, even if he knew it would affect nothing, because it was better than expressing how confused he really was. "You know very well that I can not take care of him, Albus. One minute, he’s five-years-old, the next, he’s a trained whore. It’s been twenty-four hours and he’s already told Draco Malfoy he’s ‘Tom’s pet’ and pointed out something he’d done in a book on aphrodisiacs. He won’t keep his clothes on and getting him to sit on the furniture is nearly impossible.

I don’t know what to do with him. How am I going to teach class? These rooms are not child-friendly, Albus, there are breakable and dangerous objects all around. With my luck, he’ll break the Orb of Almagerah and let lose a swarm of Harpies in the damned castle and I’ll not be held culpable for the acts of a fool child, Albus! I am exhausted and this is beyond my capability to handle."

Behind him, Severus heard a sniff. He closed his eyes, refusing to turn around, because, as much as he would never admit it, he was wrong and he knew it. None of this was Harry’s fault and it wasn’t fair to blame it on him, but Severus was still recovering and he was cranky when he was recovering and this entire situation was trying his patience.

Harry sniffed again and Severus still didn’t turn around, even when the boy spoke in a hurt voice, broken with choked back tears. "I’m sorry. I really am, it’s just I don’t... I don’t understand and I don’t mean to act like a... like a child and... and I’m sorry."

Severus finally forced himself to turn around, but Harry had already slipped back into the bedroom and he could hear the restrained half-sobs on the other side of the open door. That was not something he would have expected. Of all the things that had happened to Harry in the last twenty-four hours, this was the thing that made him cry?

Albus gave Severus a reproachful raised eyebrow and stood up, placing a hand on Severus’ shoulder. "I believe I shall go and have a talk with him."

The comment, ‘oh, good luck,’ was right on the tip of his tongue, but he managed to rein it in.

Stepping around the door, Albus saw Harry sitting on the floor, his back to the wall, knees drawn up to his chest, shaking with every held-in sob. With far less difficulty that one might expect for a man his age, Albus sat down next to the crying boy and waited patiently for him to calm down.

It didn’t take long. Harry stiffened when Albus sat down, but didn’t look up, just took several deep breathes. A few minutes later, Albus saw bright green eyes peak over the side of one arm. "Feeling better?"

Harry shook his head as he lifted it and ran his arm over face, wiping away the tears, even though there were still some threatening to break free. "I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a problem. There were just... so many people and he was warm and... and safe, like he’d protect me."

Albus smiled, "I’m inclined to agree with you, but don’t let any of his students hear you say that."

A shaky smile started to form on Harry’s face, but dropped just as quickly. "And I don’t mean to say things like... well, like that, I suppose, but I don’t even understand what ‘like that’ means. And I wouldn’t break anything if he left me here alone. I’d stay on the couch the entire time if that’s what he wanted."

Albus placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder, "I’ve no doubt you would." That earned him another of those shaky smiles. "Harry, Severus doesn’t think you’re a nuisance."

"But, he said..."

"Yes, I’m aware of what he said. However, I’m also aware that Severus is a man of little patience who sometimes does not know when to keep his mouth closed."

There was a snort from the other room, "Just like some old fools I could name who make it their life’s work to stick their nose in other people’s affairs."

Albus raised an eyebrow to Harry, who was looking shocked at Severus’ outburst. "See what I mean?"

Harry gave a short laugh, almost as if were trying to hold it in and it escaped. "So, he should have done what he told me to do and not say anything, so that he didn’t hurt my feelings?"

"Yes, Harry. It looks like our Severus isn’t a complete loss as a teacher, after all."

The pleased smile on Harry’s face faded to a frown, "So, that means I got my feelings hurt?" When Albus nodded, Harry put his chin down on his knees, "I don’t like it. It makes my chest tight and my stomach feel funny and I haven’t cried in a long time. I’m good at not crying."

Albus tried very hard not to imagine why Harry would have to be good at that. Unfortunately, with age comes wisdom, even on things we don’t wish it. "That, my dear boy, is why it is sometimes better to keep our mouths shut."

Standing up, Albus helped Harry to his feet and put his hand on top of the boy’s head, taking a moment to reassure himself that he was really here. Protecting the Potter’s had been something that Albus considered his greatest failure, finding Harry safe now was a curse and blessing, but he was far too old to be splitting hairs.

"Severus, I’ll be sending a house elf up with dinner."

Harry waited on the other side of the door while Albus left, saying something in a hushed tone to Severus first. It wasn’t that no one had ever been mad at him. Of course, Master didn’t yell and Mister Malfoy hadn’t either, but sometimes Lady Lestrange did. She was the one that found him when he’d gotten bored and turned himself into a girl and she’d spent a good twenty minutes screaming at him.

Somehow, though, what Severus said hurt. Maybe it was that Severus hadn’t yelled at him, he’d been yelling about him and to someone else. Like what he had to say was too horrible to say to Harry. Professor Dumbledore said that Severus should have kept his mouth shut, but Harry couldn’t get the words out of his head and it was making him feel sick to his stomach.

He was just thinking that it might be better if he just went to bed when he heard an all too familiar popping sound in the next room.

"Mister Snape, sir, Mimi is bringing you dinner."

Severus was about to tell her to put it on the desk, when he was interrupted by a Harry shaped blur as it ran into the room and knelt in front of the house elf, all smiles.

"You’re a house elf!" It wasn’t so much a question as an excited proclamation

Mimi look up at Harry, her eyes wide and ears perked. House elves tried to stay hidden, but working at Hogwarts meant they were used to the excited attention of muggle born students. "Who be you, young Master?"

Harry shook his head excitedly, "Not master, pet. I’m Tom’s pet. Do you know Tibby?"

Mimi’s ears lowered and her eyes narrowed. "We is not associated with Tibby, sir, she is working for the Dark One."

Harry’s face fell, "Could you, though? Because she’ll be worried about me."

Suddenly, it made perfect sense. While Voldemort may have lived in a muggle house, and a muggle town, he had not lived the muggle way, and Severus knew of at least one house elf in Riddle Manor, though he’d never heard mention of a name. Voldemort could not have always been there for a baby or even a small child. There had been battles that lasted two and three days, which meant someone would have had to take care of Harry. Apparently, that someone was a house elf named Tibby.

As he realized that, another idea came to him. Severus took Harry’s arms and made him stand and face him. "Harry, she can’t tell Tibby where you are."

"But she’ll worry about me."

"No. However, if you’d like, Mimi can come and keep you company while I teach." He passed a glance at the house elf, who only nodded. He’d have to clear it with Dumbledore, of course, but that was a mere trifle. This way, he could teach his classes and not worry about what he would be coming back to.