Beaming brightly, the white-clad elf snapped her fingers. At once, his clothes were neatly pressed and free of shards and dust, hair coifed perfectly, though that irked him a little. All in all, he once again presented the perfect picture of a composed wizard. Looking into the mirror - the only thing in the room he had not destroyed - he pulled his occlumency shields tight. Tool and toy, scraping goat and whipping boy. He would get through this. Harry cared; had made every effort to support Severus and protect him to the best of his abilities. It was not the young man's fault that Lord Voldemort was targeting him, but his own for turning his back on the man he had sworn allegiance to. He deserved this treatment and would not hide from it.