Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Day 1: Ferris Wheel

The first summer after Severus adopted Harry was the first fun summer that either of them had ever really had. They lived in Severus' old house in Spinners' End. It was small and old, the plumbing was creaky, and the wall-paper dingy. It was the most amazing house Harry had ever seen.

It may not have been spotless or fancy, but outside of Hogwarts, it was the first place that Harry could call home. His room may have been small, but it was his and he loved it. He had clothes in his closet – clothes that fit him – and things to do. Hedwig was free to hunt and to deliver letters to his friends. It was new and it was wonderful. 

Doing his summer homework during his first week home hadn't bothered Harry at all. His previous summer, starved and locked away, was still a vivid memory and he was happy to have the chance to sit at their little kitchen table working, a snack and a drink within easy reach, Snape quietly brewing behind him. 

When he finished, Snape looked his work over, humming thoughtfully as he read. He highlighted passages that Harry needed to do over, but he refused to give any answers. "What's the good of being a teacher's son if I can't even get the answers?" he huffed, not really bothered, but unable to resist needling the man.

Amused, Snape said, "Au contrair, Harry. You'll have the answers. Make no mistake. You'll just have to find them yourself."

So he did. And if he was being honest, he was rather proud of himself for it. He hadn't needed Hermione or Snape or anyone else. He'd been able to do it all on his own. What's more, Snape had praised him for it. That had never happened before. 

♡●♡●♡●♡

Homework finally complete, Snape had taken Harry to the library, each of them selecting muggle novels that they could read in the evening. They spent their days brewing – well, Snape brewed while Harry watched – and tending to the ingredients growing in their small rocky garden. Snape taught Harry some spells that helped to clear and soften the earth, but wouldn't let Harry practice them until they were back at Hogwarts. Harry had pouted and Snape laughed at him, refusing to relent. 

"You'll grow up soon enough, my little brat," he said affectionately, strangely pleased that Harry was pushing back against him. He had promised Lily to love him like his own and it was nice to know that Harry truly felt comfortable with him, that he didn't feel like a guest in his own home. 

Whatever they did throughout the day, there was always music in the background. Snape had shared his extensive record collection with Harry and, since then, there had hardly been a moment without the Beatles or The Ramones or Lily's beloved David Bowie. Harry had taken a special liking to Yellow Submarine and took great delight in singing Nowhere Man, loudly and rather off-key, at Severus. 

Severus pretended to hate it, but he couldn't truly complain about the happy light shining in those green eyes.

♡●♡●♡●♡

It seemed like no time had passed at all, so Severus was almost surprised to realize that Harry's birthday was nearly upon them. He was certain that Harry wouldn't expect much, but he wanted to make this birthday special. Harry had precious few special memories in his young life. Discreetly, he sent his own owl, Asphodel, out with an order unlike any he had ever made.

The morning of Harry's birthday arrived in a burst of sunshine. The day was bright and sunny, a warm breeze keeping the air from being muggy. It was utter perfection and Severus was pleased. 

When Harry awoke, cards and gifts from his friends had already arrived, piled on their kitchen table in a merry little heap. Harry gave a happy little squeal, delighting in the thoughtfulness of his friends. "I hope there are 36 of them!" he said, laughing. Severus didn't quite understand, but he laughed along anyway. Harry's joy was rather infectious. 

As it was his birthday, Severus made pancakes, something he generally deemed too sugary to make a proper breakfast. After they had eaten, their fingers still sticky with syrup, Severus said, "Have you ever been to a carnival, Harry?"

Green eyes widened with excitement. "No, Sir. Dudley went sometimes, but I always had to stay with Mrs. Figg."

Severus grimaced. What had Dumbledore been thinking when he left Harry with those horrible muggles? "Get dressed, Harry. I think we have a carnival to attend." He held up a pair of tickets, then laughed as Harry ran to his room to change. 

♡●♡●♡●♡

Harry couldn't have imagined a more fun day. They had eaten candy floss and ridden rides until his head was spinning. He had played games until he won a stuffed dog, which he knew he was rather too old for, but he'd never had one before. He wasn't entirely sure that Snape hadn't spelled his dart into that balloon, but he wasn't even bothered by that. He'd already tried 12 times, so he really couldn't blame the man.

Late in the afternoon, his feet were beginning to drag as they walked toward another ride. "I think this shall be the last one today," Snape had said, not unkindly. Harry hadn't even been able to argue. He found himself rather anxious to get home to his book, to their couch and their music, to a place where he could talk Snape's ear off about the fun day they'd had without having to bloody walk anywhere else.

This final ride didn't look like a particularly fun one, Harry thought, looking at it curiously. Sure, it was tall, but it wasn't moving very quickly and he told Snape as much. 

"It's a Ferris Wheel, Harry," he'd replied. "It's the traditional last ride of the day." Harry wasn't sure if it was everyone's tradition or just Snape's, but he felt rather pleased to share a tradition at any rate.

When they made their way to the front of the line and got buckled into their car, Harry leaned back and began to see the appeal of saving the Ferris Wheel for last. It wasn't fast, but it rocked in a lazy kind of way that relaxed him. When they got to the top, the wheel paused allowing them to see for miles into the British countryside. 

He grabbed Snape's arm, happy to be spending his birthday just like this with the one person who would be there for him always.

"Thank you for bringing me here," he said glancing over at the dark-haired man. "Dad," he finished. 

Snape looked down at him then, his black eyes shiny. He wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulders and said, "Of course. Happy birthday, my Harry." 

They both gazed out into the distance, watching the sun beginning to set as their car went back down to the ground. 

Chapter Text

After the excitement of Harry's birthday, they settled back into their easy routine. Harry had already finished four James Bond books and was well on his way to finishing a fifth, so nearly all of the meals they shared in their little house on Spinner's End were punctuated with excited comments from him about the muggle spy. As he began speaking of someone called Pussy Galore, Severus wondered if these books were really appropriate for a 13 year old child. He shrugged those thoughts off, though. He wasn't so old that he couldn't remember being 13, and if all he had to worry about was Harry reading about the buxom love interest of a muggle spy, he thought he was doing rather well indeed.

Their garden was growing better than Snape could ever remember it growing in his life. It had really been his mother's garden and, until recently, he had done nothing with it at all since she had died years ago. Still, most of the happiest memories of his childhood were of times spent here with her, planting and weeding, harvesting and drying herbs. He had never really expected to have a child to share this with, but it filled him with such warmth to know that her legacy was living on.

He imagined how they looked, squatting there among various green things, hands covered in dirt, dark-haired heads bent together. He imagined that it wasn't so different now than it had been 20 years ago, only he was in his mother's place and his son was in his.

He taught Harry how to best harvest the various plants and how to dry and prepare them for use, some in cooking and some in potions. And while they worked, he told Harry about his mother. He told him how much he'd wanted to be like her, her skill with potions, her kindness and her resourcefulness. He told him how she'd been a champion at gobstones; she'd taught him how to bluff and mask his expressions. He told him how highly she'd spoken of Hogwarts and of Slytherin.

"Much like you, Harry, I knew very little about Hogwarts or the Wizarding World when I was 11. I only knew that I wished to be like my mother. She was perfect in my mind, much the same way that your own mother was perfect to me," he said, his nimble fingers tying small bundles of rosemary together to be dried. The woody scent filled the air, heightening his sense of nostalgia.

"I bet I'd have been in Slytherin if you'd gotten me sooner. It might be nice to be in your house," Harry mused. "But then I'd have to be friends with, like, Crabbe and Bulstrode instead of Ron and Hermione, so I guess I'm better off where I am."

Smirking, Snape replied dryly, "I would pay to see that. Young Millicent is a force to be reckoned with. She’d slap you into doing what she wanted, rather than nagging like Miss Granger does."

Harry laughed loudly as he arranged a bunch of parsley in a jar. "Yeah, maybe better that I'm in Gryffindor. The hat wanted to put me in Slytherin but I argued with it."

Severus rolled his eyes. "And that, my Harry, is why you are in Gryffindor. Honestly, who, other than you, would have the audacity to argue with a hat?"

"Well, I wouldn't have," Harry protested. "I just didn't want to be with Malfoy!"

Humming, Severus said, "Funny enough, it was your Malfoy's father who first welcomed me into Slytherin, so everything comes full circle." He looked up at Harry then. "And that is why I think it good that you are a Gryffindor. You are your mother's son, just as I am my mother's."

Harry smiled back at him. "I suppose you're right, sir," he said.

The subject moved on then to lighter things. Severus found himself listening to a diatribe about James Bond and Felix Leiter. "I just don't understand why he keeps going after all these women," Harry complained, "when Felix is an option. Like, maybe there's a reason you can't settle down with any of the women, James."

Severus snorted. "Something you'd like to tell me?" he asked. "Having some latent feelings for Mr. Weasley perhaps?"

Cheeks pink, Harry spluttered. "No. No way. But I'm not going off having adventures and getting with tons of different women either."

"I would beg to differ about your lack of adventure, Harry. But I am pleased to know that you aren't seeking the attention of women named Pussy Galore," he said, raising a dark eyebrow. "You've plenty of time for that sort of nonsense in the future. And I'd rather you had fewer adventures, too, while we're on the subject."

Harry grinned brightly. "Yeah, I'll do my best. It's not like I want the adventures. They just come to me," he shrugged. Settling the last of his harvest into a little jar, he turned and left the room then, changing the record to a new one that Severus was seriously regretting.

Harry began dancing wildly about the living room as some woman sang about wanting another baby. Severus laughed and cast a muffling charm over the other room before cleaning up their kitchen table turned workstation.

♡●♡●♡●♡

Later that evening, Severus was slicing up carrots for dinner. He knew there was a charm for that but there were some things he simply preferred to do by hand, chopping ingredients being one of them. He had peeked in on Harry earlier; he was laid across the sofa reading again. It rather pleased Severus to cook dinner while Harry lounged about. Cooking for two was nicer than cooking for one, and he knew that, in years past, Harry would have been the one cooking while those around him did nothing. Preparing healthy meals for his son made him feel like a real parent; it was yet another thing that made him feel connected to his mother.

Suddenly, he felt someone slam into him from behind. Thankfully, when his knife had slipped upon impact, it slid into the carrot and not his finger.

Thin arms wrapped around his waist and he felt a face bury itself against his back. "Are you quite alright, Harry?" he asked softly, dropping the knife and pressing his arms against his son's.

"M'good," Harry replied, his words muffled by Severus' shirt. "It's just," he hesitated for a moment, "you said I'm my mum's son and I am. But I'm your son now too. I didn't want you to think I forgot."

Turning was awkward with Harry wrapped around him as he was, but he managed, then wrapped Harry up in an embrace of his own, pressing his face against wild dark hair. He didn't think he'd ever hugged or been hugged so much in his life as he had been these past few months, but he couldn't count it as a bad thing, touch-starved as they both were.

"I know, Harry," he said softly. "I'd never think that, you know. You needn't fear me holding things against you. I'm here for you, Harry. Always."

Chapter Text

About a week before school started, Harry was on the sofa listening to The Beatles and drawing a yellow submarine, which he thought he'd done rather well with. He had just added a particularly ferocious-looking fish to the drawing, eyeing the little yellow ship as if it wanted to take a bite, when he was startled by a sharp knock on the door. 

It was strange because, in all of his time in their house on Spinner's End, no one had ever visited them, especially not unannounced. Ron's mum had floo-called to invite them to dinner a handful of times, but never had anyone knocked on their door before. 

He briefly wondered if, perhaps, he should let his dad answer it, but when whoever was there knocked again and Snape didn't appear, he shrugged and stood. The music was fairly loud and he was extremely curious; he didn't want to wait for Snape to notice the knocking to find out who was visiting them. 

When he opened the door and found Lucius Malfoy standing there impatiently, he thought that he maybe should have been more patient, but it was too late to do anything about it. The regal looking man brushed past him, saying, "I need to speak with Severus," as Harry closed the door behind him, wide-eyed. 

He turned down the music and yelled, "Dad!! Someone’s here for you!" grinning as the blond man grimaced at him in distaste. 

"What are you shouting about, Harry?" Snape snapped as he entered the room, brushing his hands off on his jeans. He stopped short when he saw Malfoy standing there and drew his arms around himself as if he was ashamed of his Nirvana t-shirt when faced with Lucius' rich-looking robes and black cane. "Ah, Lucius," he said in a more solemn tone. "What can I do for you?"

"I need to speak with you about a rather sensitive subject," he replied. "Perhaps we can sit?" He wrinkled his nose in disgust as he looked around the room, but sat down in the high-backed chair in the corner anyway.

"Of course," Snape answered, sounding weary. "Harry," he said, gesturing for Harry to excuse them. 

Gathering his drawing supplies, Harry made to get up, knowing that Snape wouldn't tolerate him hanging about when he'd asked him to leave. Malfoy stopped him, though. "He may as well stay, Severus," he said, adding, "This concerns him and we both know the boy is meddlesome enough to find anything out on his own."

Sighing, Snape nodded and Harry relaxed. "'The boy' is my son, Lucius. He does have a name."

"Of course. My apologies, Harry," Lucius contended, his sense of decorum clearly taking over. "I've come to make you aware, Severus, that Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban. The Aurors have not been able to capture him as of yet, and I have it on good authority that he plans to come to Hogwarts, likely in search of Harry."

Severus' face went pale, his dark eyes wide, but Harry was simply confused. "Who's that?" he wondered aloud. "Why would he be after me?"

In a subdued tone, Severus explained that Sirius had been Harry's godfather and that he'd betrayed Harry's parents to the Dark Lord and gotten them killed before turning his wand on another of their friends as well as a number of muggles. "I knew the type of person he was, Harry. He almost killed me back when we were at school," he said softly. "I do not know why your mother ever trusted him, but clearly she was hoodwinked. He did have a rather roguish charm, I suppose."

Severus looked over at Lucius then who was gazing at him sympathetically. Harry had no idea that a Malfoy could be kind at all, but he guessed that everyone had sides that they only showed to a select few people. What he had just learned about his own godfather proved that much. 

"I don't want him to be my godfather." Harry spoke in a small voice, hating the idea that he could be connected in any way to such a monster. 

"Do not worry yourself about it overmuch," Lucius said. "Your father is more than capable of protecting you. I simply thought you both needed to be aware. The old coot who runs your school certainly can't be trusted in this matter. He allowed Black to get away with harming Severus back when they were in school and I fear that, if the problem is left to him, he would be all too willing to allow it again."

Shivering, Harry moved closer to Snape who wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "Lucius is right, of course," he said. "Forewarned is forearmed. Now that we know, this will not be a problem. I promise you that, Harry."

Lucius stood, clapping his hands decisively. "I'll leave you to it, then." Severus stood to escort him out, and Lucius pulled him into a friendly embrace. "Take care, my friend. If you need anything, do let me know. I'm certain we could provide you with a safer place to live.

Harry was pretty sure that by "safer," Malfoy meant "nicer" or "less muggle" but he didn't take offense. Even if the man was nicer than he'd previously thought, he was positive that he was just as snobby as expected. Maybe even moreso. He sat there in quiet thought until Malfoy had left and Severus returned. 

Looking up at his dad, he felt a deep warmth in his belly in spite of his anxiety about the news they'd just heard. He knew that, no matter what, he had someone he could rely on. It was still a new feeling and he did not take it for granted.

"Let's go shopping, Harry," Snape said after a long pause. "I find that I'd like a distraction and I imagine that you could use one as well. I do not think we shall run into an escaped wizard convict in Selfridges."

♡●♡●♡●♡

The shopping trip had proved to be just the balm they had needed to calm their anxieties. Severus had purchased a pair of Doc Marten's for each of them and Harry was excited to have shoes that would look smart with his school robes. He had even convinced Snape to try on a pink button-down that he insisted looked nice with his pale complexion but which Snape had vehemently rejected, much to Harry’s amusement.

The best thing for Harry, though, had been getting a new Walkman with a half-dozen of his favourite tapes. Having a portable music source and a way to play music without forcing his dad to cast silencing charms was a freeing feeling. He knew that it wouldn't work at school, but he was so happy to have it anyway.

After grabbing some Indian takeout for dinner, the two arrived home in far better spirits than they'd left in. While they ate, Severus set forth some rules for Harry to follow at Hogwarts in hopes of keeping him safe and free of extra adventures. Somewhat reluctantly, Harry agreed, and he promised to come to Snape if he came across anything suspicious rather than jumping into potential danger on his own. 

Once they had eaten, they retired to the sofa with their books, Harry sitting a little closer to his dad than usual. It had been a trying day and he was grateful to have Snape's love and support. He had opened up his new Queen tape and was happily listening to it as they read. 

Coming to the end of a chapter, Harry suddenly closed his book. "Hey, dad!" he said, "listen to this one with me." Taking his headphones off, he leaned his head close to Snape's and twisted the headphones around between them so they could both hear. 

Smiling, Snape closed his book too and wrapped an arm around his son as they listened. 

You're my sunshine and I want you to know

My feelings are true

I really love you

You're my best friend

♡●♡●♡●♡

Somehow, while snuggled together in the warmth of their little home, the worries of the outside world didn’t seem so pressing. Their bellies were full and there was good music to listen to and they had each other, a happy, if unconventional, family. Closing his eyes, Snape mouthed the words.

Whenever this world is cruel to me

I got you to help me forgive

Ooh, you make me live now, honey

Ooh, you make me live 

Thinking about the boy sitting next to him, his brave kind son, he knew that he meant every one.

Chapter Text

Being back at Hogwarts as a father had taken some adjustment for Severus. He had always done his best to make sure his students were protected and well-behaved, even if he had never gone out of his way to be likable, but there was a special kind of anxiety that came with knowing his own child was walking around in this death-trap of a castle. The fact that his child was Harry "Adventure Finds Me" Potter only served to increase that anxiety.

Beyond that, he worried about Harry's behaviour. The boy had never really been one to shy away from mouthing off at teachers or bending the rules for his own purposes. Before, Severus would have been quick to blame such behaviour on Harry's upbringing, but now that he was the one doing the upbringing, he felt that it could only reflect on him if Harry stepped out of line. 

Even beyond those very real reasons for apprehension, there was still the not small matter of Sirius Black, mass murderer and all around tosser, being on the loose and presumably hunting for Harry. Meanwhile, Remus Lupin, Sirius' best friend and bosom buddy by day, murderous werewolf by night, was who Dumbledore had chosen to teach the children Defense this year. 

Oh! And there were dementors everywhere, too, which Harry seemed to have an overly strong reaction to. 

It was not a good time for Severus' nerves.

♡●♡●♡●♡

When they'd arrived at Hogwarts, Severus had warned Harry away from Lupin, informing him, after grudgingly swearing him to secrecy at Dumbledore's behest, that the man was both a werewolf and old friends with Sirius Black. 

Harry had apparently taken that to mean "Feel free to have tea with that savage beast over there," and had, almost immediately, begun cultivating a relationship with the man. Short of nagging the boy to death, Severus couldn't see anything he could do to prevent said relationship, so he didn't try to. He simply made sure to skulk around nearby whenever Harry was alone with the man. He was still a spy, after all.

All of that went reasonably well. Lupin didn't seem to be doing our saying anything untoward during his little teas with Harry and, surprisingly enough, he actually seemed to be a moderately decent teacher. All of that went well, that is, until it didn't. 

A few weeks into the school year, Lupin had decided that the best thing he could do during class was to present a group of 13-year-olds with things that they greatly feared and he seemed to think that the best way for them to do this was individually and in front of their entire class. Surely nothing could go wrong with that plan , Snape thought, rolling his dark eyes. 

Something had gone wrong with that plan, but it wasn't anything that Lupin, Severus, or even Harry could have predicted. 

As Snape heard from Harry, and hear from Harry he did – quite an earful, in fact – Lupin had put Neville Longbottom (the menace) in front of the boggart first. Severus was at least mature enough to acknowledge that he probably shouldn't have felt as gleeful as he did upon hearing that he had been Longbottom's boggart. He did feel rather proud of the fact, but that was neither here nor there. The problem had really come from what Lupin had instructed Neville to turn his boggart in to.

Lupin had, apparently, not been able to rise above his petty tormenting of old Snivellus anymore than Snape himself had risen above it. 

♡●♡●♡●♡

"He made him dress you in old lady clothes!" Harry shouted.

"It wasn't really me, Harry. It was a boggart," Severus replied. He was rather proud of his calm response, honestly. He was seething inside at the fact that the smelly, shabby mutt was still able to get under his skin. 

"Still, he shouldn't have done that!" Harry insisted. "He could have said anything! Neville's dumb for being that frightened of you anyway. There's dementors all over the place and Neville thinks that you're the scariest thing around? Please! And either way, they didn't need to make everyone laugh at you."

"That's really the point of the Riddikulus charm," Snape said reasonably. "You have to laugh at the boggart to make it lose its hold on you. It was no reason for you to lose your temper with a teacher." He could admit that he was rather touched by Harry's vehement defense of him, though. It went a long way toward soothing his irritation at Lupin.

"Yeah, well… we'll see who's laughing now," Harry muttered. 

Oh, Merlin, Snape thought, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What have you done, Harry?" he asked, not sure that he really wanted to know. 

"I just made a little drawing," he said defensively. "A doodle, really."

"And?" Snape looked at him darkly.

"And I made about a hundred copies and hung them all over the school." A cheeky grin began to creep onto his face. 

"And what was in this doodle of yours?"

Harry burst out laughing then. "Lupin in old lady clothes!" he said between giggles. 

Unable to suppress his own laughter, Severus pulled Harry into a hug. "Oh, Harry," he said. "You know we'll have to take those down, right?"

"I know." He buried his nose in Snape's robes. "I just don't want anyone laughing at you. I hate bullies," he said. "Maybe we could take down, like, 95 of them?"

Still chuckling, Snape pressed a kiss to the top of Harry's messy head. "I think that would be a very valiant effort, indeed."

Chapter Text

There was a very good reason that Snape had refused to sign Harry's Hogsmeade permission form and Harry was well aware of it. There was an insane killer roaming around and he was, for whatever reason, after Harry specifically. 

He didn't understand why every evil person in the whole wizarding world seemed to be fixated on him when he'd really never done anything remarkable. The only impressive thing that had ever happened to him only happened because of his mum and she was already dead, so he rather wished the bad guys of the world would just move on to someone more interesting.

That didn't seem to be happening though, so here he was picking up some quidditch books from the library while the rest of his friends got to go to the village and have fun.

That's what he'd been planning to do, at any rate, until the Weasley twins had shown up and given him an incredible map that showed him a number of secret passages that led out of the castle and into Hogsmeade, as well as the locations of everyone in Hogwarts. Briefly, he considered his dad's reaction if he found out about this, but then decided that what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. He'd just stay under his invisibility cloak the whole time. If no one could see him, then no one could hurt him, he reckoned. And if no one could see him, he'd stay out of trouble. 

Stealthily, he made his way to the secret passage under cover of invisibility, taking care to watch the map so that he could avoid running into anyone. Invisible or not, he was still solid and didn't want anyone noticing the sound of his footsteps or the breeze his body created as he hurried past them. 

The passage into Honeydukes was long and dusty and he rather hoped that it would be worth it. But after climbing several hundred steps and banging his head on a trap door, the sweet smell of candy filled his nostrils and he knew that it absolutely was.

Making his way through the candy shoppe, he selected a number of treats and discreetly left a few galleons on the counter as payment. Then he headed out into the streets to explore the town. I t didn't take long for him to spot Ron's bright hair, so he hurried over to him and pulled him into an alley to reveal that he'd managed to get out of the castle. 

"Wicked!" Ron exclaimed when he showed him the map. "I don't know why they didn't give it to me, though. I'm their brother!"

Harry shrugged. "Well, at least we've got it now! Think of all we'll be able to get away with!" He grinned mischievously. 

"Well, yeah. But you better not get caught. I wouldn't want to face my dad with something like that, especially if my dad was Snape." Ron shuddered. 

Laughing, Harry said, "He'll never even know. I don't know why everyone's so afraid of him anyway. He's not that scary."

At that, Harry covered himself back up with his cloak, and the two began making their way through Hogsmeade. They checked out the joke shop, then made a cursory visit to the bookstore just so Ron could tell Hermione he'd gone (they wouldn't dare tell her that Harry had been here. She was scarier than Snape was, as far as he was concerned.) Ron was a bit bothered at the looks he was garnering for walking through the town talking to himself, but overall they had a right good time. 

Eventually, they wandered up the hill where the Shrieking Shack stood, their boots squelching in the early fall mud. The building really didn't seem all that creepy or haunted, so after a cursory look around, they turned to find something else to do. At least, that had been their plan until Draco Malfoy and his cronies turned up. 

After a bit of not-so-witty banter, Ron's temper was sparked and Harry had to hold him back, not wanting to see his friend get his arse kicked by the two brutish goons that seemed to follow Malfoy around like a bad smell. "I'll take care of it, Ron," he murmured, then began running around flinging mud at the Slytherins. 

Plop! A glob hit Goyle in the eye, making him stumble around like an idiot. Splat! A clump landed on Malfoy's pale hair and dripped grossly down his face.

Doubled over in laughter, Ron said, "Say, it sure is haunted over here, innit?" while the three boys ran around in fear of the "ghost" that was attacking them. 

It was all great fun, really, until Harry stumbled and his cloak slipped off of his head. He quickly pulled it back up, but not before Malfoy spotted him, his grey eyes wide. The blond ran away and, a beat later, Harry realized where Malfoy was headed. 

"I gotta go, Ron!" he shouted. "Laters!"

♡●♡●♡●♡

He tore through the town, desperate to get back to Hogwarts before Malfoy did. Through Honeydukes, into the trap door, down hundreds of steps he ran, jerking his cloak off when he reached the end of the tunnel. Breathing heavily, he stepped out into the hall and let out a sigh of relief. He'd made it.

Or he thought he'd made it until he found himself scooped up and thrown over Snape's back.

Squirming against his dad's wool-covered shoulders, he protested, "I swear I didn't…"

"Save it," Snape said darkly. "If you insist upon acting like a child, I shall treat you like a child." 

All the fight went out of Harry then. He just sort of lay there limply, the rough dark fabric of Snape's robes brushing his cheek as he walked. He was positive that people were staring but there wasn't anything for it. He'd been well and truly caught. 

When they had finally reached the dungeons, Snape took him into his quarters and plopped him unceremoniously down into the sofa.

"You're pretty strong, dad," he said hopefully, looking up into Snape's face. He wouldn't have thought the thin man had it in him to carry a teenager all the way through the castle. His face fell, though, as he met dark, angry, narrowed eyes. 

"I heard something very interesting from Draco Malfoy just now, Harry. Would you like to explain why your head was in Hogsmeade? Your head should not have been in Hogsmeade, as you well know. No part of your body had permission to be in Hogsmeade." Snape's voice was quiet and dangerous and Harry began to understand why people were afraid of him. 

"It wasn't me," Harry said quickly, still hoping to get out of trouble. 

Sighing, Snape said, "Empty your pockets, Harry."

Very slowly, Harry pulled out a handful of Honeydukes chocolate, a small bag from Zonko's, and the Marauders Map. "Erm. I had that stuff already?" he said, but it came out as more of a question than a statement.

"Don't!" Snape snapped and Harry flinched. He'd heard that tone before, but not from Snape. Not since first year anyway.

Severus' eyes softened then, his eyebrows drawing together in concern. Trying another tactic, he sat down next to his son. "You know how important it is to me to keep you safe, Harry," he said. "Why would you disobey me on this?" His voice was thick with disappointment. 

"I just wanted to see Hogsmeade like everyone else," Harry replied, surprised to find that his eyes had filled with tears. "Why do I always have to be different?"

Pulling his son close, Severus leaned back against the sofa. Harry's head lay on his shoulder and he carded his fingers through that soft unruly hair. 

"I wish that you weren't, my Harry. I wish that I could make everything perfect for you. But right now, it's all that I can do just to protect you." He sighed wearily. "What is that parchment?" he asked, gesturing at the small pile of things that had come from Harry's pockets. 

Harry froze. He knew that he should definitely tell his dad about this one. He'd be furious if he didn’t. But he really didn't want to get the Weasley twins in trouble. "If I tell you, do you promise that it's just me who'll be in trouble?" he asked tentatively. 

Snape's hand stopped moving against Harry's head and he looked down sharply at his son. "I shall do my best, but I cannot make that promise," he said after a moment, his face tight. 

Figuring that was the best he could hope for, Harry explained it all to him then: how the Weasley twins had given it to him and exactly how it worked. Snape looked it over for a moment after Harry activated it for him, a funny look on his face.

"Your father created this map," he said finally. "This explains rather a lot about both him and his gang and the Weasley twins, honestly."

Harry swallowed hard. Snape didn't often mention his father. He knew the man had bullied Snape horribly in his youth, so much so that he'd even taken it out on Harry when they'd first met. He knew little else about the man, but he didn't really mind that. Snape was his real dad now. Snape was the one who was there for him.

"Was Professor Lupin part of the gang?" he asked quietly.

Chuckling darkly, Snape said, "Yes, I would imagine that he was the Moony part of the gang. Sirius Black was a part of it as well."

Burrowing his head against Snape's shoulder, Harry said, "You should keep the map, dad."

Pursing his lips, Snape said slowly, "It belonged to your father, Harry. If you wish to keep it, I do not want to take it from you. You'll just have to be very responsible with it." He did not sound as if he thought Harry was capable of being responsible with it, but it meant a lot that he'd even offered.

Wrapping an arm around Snape's waist, Harry said, "Well, if it belonged to my father, then it's yours. If you want it, that is. He died a long time ago and you're my dad now. Plus, maybe you can use it to help catch Sirius Black."

He was as sure as Snape sounded that he'd just use the map to get into more trouble, and he found that he really didn't want that. He wanted his dad to trust him. And while he was grateful to James Potter for giving him life and for protecting him as a baby, Snape really was his dad now; he meant that. He didn't want to keep things from the man. Not big things, anyway. 

"Very well," Snape said, drawing his arms around Harry. "I will hang onto it until Black is back in custody and then we can revisit the matter."

They sat there snuggled together for a moment, Harry feeling relieved that he was still cared for even though he'd done something stupid. He was likely to do more stupid things in the future, so it was good to know that Snape's affection was not so conditional. "I love you, dad," he said quietly.

"And I love you, my Harry," Snape replied. "Do not think that means you'll be going unpunished, however. Because you can be certain that Mr. Malfoy's father will hear of this and, when he does, I will not hear the end of it. Malfoys take extraordinary pride in their hair, you know."

Chapter Text

On October 30, Severus held Harry back after class. He had Harry sit beside him, then laced his fingers together beneath his chin, trying to decide on the right words. Maybe this wasn't such a great idea , he thought. He pressed on anyway. 

"You do know what tomorrow is, Harry?" he asked softly.

Harry's face tightened. "Yeah," he sighed. "It's Halloween so everyone's going to be celebrating and having a feast. And also it's the day my parents died. Bad things seem to happen to me on Halloween."

Sighing, Severus placed a hand over one of Harry's. "I would like to take you away for the weekend, perhaps start a new tradition in which bad things do not happen on Halloween." Harry looked up at him, his hope-filled eyes guarded. "I thought we could visit your parents, Harry."

Green eyes widened. "You… you'd take me to Godric's Hollow?" he asked, the surprise in his voice evident. "But you hated my dad. Why would you want to do that?"

"Oh, Harry," Severus closed his eyes for a long moment. "I did hate your father but, far more than that, I love you. And so did James and Lily Potter. This is not about me."

Nodding solemnly, Harry agreed. "Alright, I think I'd like that. I'm not so sure I'll be up for a feast anyway. And," he added slowly, "I really like making traditions with you."

Severus wasn't entirely sure that he was up for facing Lily on the anniversary of her death if he was being honest. But he hadn't lied when he'd told Harry this was not about him. This was something that Harry deserved to do. And he couldn't help feeling warmed at the idea of Harry wanting them to have their own traditions. 

If Harry wanted that, Severus had no problem with making it happen.

 ♡●♡●♡●♡

The following evening after class, Severus and Harry had their bags packed and were walking toward Hogsmeade long before the commotion of the Halloween Feast had begun in the Great Hall. The mood between the two of them was somber; they both knew that this graveyard visit would not be easy on either of them. 

Once in Hogsmeade, Severus held tight to Harry and they Apparated with a sharp crack, landing far, far away at the edge of the woods near Godric's Hollow. Severus had only been here once, shortly after the Potters had died and Harry'd been sent to live with those filthy muggles. He'd had no idea back then just how much his life would change in the coming years.

He had only been here once, but that experience was emblazoned in his mind; the way he'd fallen to his knees in the dirt, sobbing over Lily's grave, the flowers he'd conjured to honor her, not lilies like everyone would assume, but lilacs. Her favourite. 

He told Harry that as they walked through the town: how Lily had loved the sweet smell of lilacs, how she'd worn perfume that smelled of them so that the scent would follow her wherever she went. He told him how much she'd loved everything purple; she'd even gotten him to try on a purple shirt one summer in a thrift shop in Liverpool.

"Just like the pink shirt I got you in," Harry remarked as he slipped his calloused hand into Severus' thin one. Severus could tell he was grateful for the distraction. 

When they reached the graves of James and Lily Potter, Severus stepped back and allowed Harry some space. The boy knelt there, tracing his parents' names and murmuring softly to them. Tears dripped down his cheeks, but he didn't seem to notice; he let them fall to the ground. 

As he waited, Severus glanced around to be sure there were no muggles around, then pulled out his wand. He conjured the lilacs first, thinking of his dear friend, of her laugh, her green eyes, and the joy she'd brought into his life. He thought of his promise to her, to love and protect her son. And then the flowers were in his hand, bright and sweet-smelling. Silently, he passed them to Harry, allowing him to lay them gently against the tombstone before he stepped back again.

He thought of James Potter then. There had been no love lost between the two of them, to put it extremely lightly. But now, after all this time, he could put his feelings aside, if only for Harry's sake. He thought about the man's wild hair and his smooth bronze skin – things that he'd passed on to Harry – and he thought of his bravery and how he'd died to protect his son. Their son now. He could no longer find it in his heart to truly hate James Potter, for without James, he would not have Harry. Those thoughts of gratitude in mind, a bunch of red carnations filled his hand. He passed them to Harry as well and made to step away again.

Harry looked up at him in surprise, taking the flowers and then Severus' hand. "You didn't have to make flowers for him too," he whispered as he pulled Severus to the ground next to him. 

Inclining his head, Severus murmured back, "I forgive him for all that he did to me, my Harry. He gave me something unspeakably precious in return."

Gently laying the flowers against James' side of the gravestone, Harry snuggled closer to Severus, leaning his head against his chest. "I'm ready to go now," he said softly. Giving Harry a quick hug, Severus stood. He heard Harry softly say, "Goodbye, mum," then the two of them walked away.

♡●♡●♡●♡

"I'm kind of hungry now," Harry said after they'd left the cemetery. "Is that weird? That I'd be thinking of food after all that?" His eyes were still puffy and his face tear-streaked, but he was alright, Severus thought. His boy was okay.

"I do not think so," Severus replied. "Grieving, saying goodbye… those can be rather draining experiences. It makes perfect sense that your body would want sustenance after something like that." 

They walked through Godric's Hollow, hand in hand, exploring the little town where Harry would have grown up had all been right with the world. A few children in costumes had already begun roaming around in search of sweets.

When they passed a little diner, Severus spoke up again, "How do you feel about making pie a part of our Halloween tradition?"

Harry grinned brightly, the happy light back in his green eyes. "I'm for it!" he exclaimed.

♡●♡●♡●♡

The brightly-lit little diner turned out to be exactly what they needed. The tea was hot and strong, the pie was to die for. Harry had chosen chocolate while Severus had opted for rhubarb.

"What is that?" Harry asked. "I don't think I've had it before."

Severus slid his plate across the table. "Try it if you want" he said, smirking. "You can order a piece if you like it."

Harry dug his spoon in and took a bite, before sliding the plate decisively back to Severus. "I think I'll pass," he said, taking a gulp of tea. "Merlin, that's tart!" 

Severus laughed and shrugged his shoulders. "I quite like it," he replied. 

Shaking his head, Harry rolled his eyes, bright behind his glasses. "Only you would pick a dessert like that, dad. It's as sour as you are."

Popping another bite in his mouth, Severus raised an eyebrow. After he'd swallowed, he nodded and said affectionately, "Quite right, my Harry. Quite right."

Chapter Text

After visiting the cemetery at Godric's Hollow and having pie, Harry and Severus went home to Spinner's End for the weekend, planning to go back to Hogwarts on Sunday. Harry was happy to see their little house and, immediately after they got through the door, he'd commandeered the record player and sprawled out on the sofa, his shoes, coat, and bag discarded haphazardly on the floor.

"I want to ride my bicycle, I want to ride my bike!" he sang loudly. 

"Harry," Snape started. 

"I want to ride my bicycle, I want to ride it where I like!"

"Harry!" Snape snapped, the record player's needle screeching against the vinyl record as he stopped the music. "Put your things away before you start making such a racket!"

Harry sat up sheepishly. "Sorry, dad," he said, standing to gather his stuff. He knew Snape hated clutter, so he really should have known better. He was just happy to be home. He did love Hogwarts and it would always be a special place for him, but as far as he was concerned, there was no place better than this little house. 

When he came back down the stairs, he found his dad sitting on the couch with Asphodel on his knee, a letter in his hand, and a finger pressed to his lips, something that Harry knew he did when he was thinking. 

"What's going on?" Harry asked tentatively. He wasn't sure he even wanted to know. This was supposed to be their weekend away and he really didn't want to spend it in a state of worry. 

Severus looked up at him then, his jaw tight. "It seems that Black managed to get into the castle this evening. He attempted to break into the Gryffindor common room." 

On one hand, Harry was worried. All of his friends were in Gryffindor Tower. On the other hand, though, he was certain his dad would have led with that if anyone had been hurt. It felt good to have someone he could trust to tell him the truth, no matter what. 

"Is everyone alright?" he asked, just to be sure. 

Nodding, Severus said, "All but the Fat Lady who guards your dorms. Her portrait will have to be restored. It seems that Black came prepared to cause harm to someone and when she refused him entry, he turned on her."

"Merlin," Harry was in shock. "Do you think he got in through one of the passages on the map?"

Realization dawned in Snape's black eyes. "Yes, I would imagine so," he said slowly. "And I can guess which one. Bring me a quill, please, Harry. I need to reply to Dumbledore right away."

Harry turned to do as he'd been asked. As he fetched both quill and ink, he said, "This doesn't mean we have to go back to Hogwarts now, does it?" He'd been so happy to be home. He should have known that something would happen to mess it up. 

"Absolutely not," Severus replied. "I told you we were taking the weekend off. I wouldn't lie to you."

Breathing out a sigh of relief, Harry settled back down on the couch. He left the music off for now. He didn't want to disturb Snape while he was writing to Dumbledore. They'd have all weekend for Queen, after all. 

Once the letter had been written and Asphodel sent back to Hogwarts with it, Harry leaned over, snuggling into Snape's shoulder. "Can we get pizza, dad?" 

"That," Snape said, "sounds like an excellent plan."

♡●♡●♡●♡

An hour later, Harry was laid on his belly on the living room floor and Snape was lounging on the sofa, a half-empty pizza box and several bottles of butter-beer on the coffee table between them. The White Album played softly on the record player and Harry grunted along with the little piggies, grinning as he pictured Dudley crawling in the dirt.

"Can we play Truth or Dare?" he asked his dad suddenly. 

Snape raised one dark eyebrow. "Harry, it is nearly midnight," he said.

"Yeah, but we don't have anywhere to be tomorrow, so we can just have a lie-in," Harry said in, as far as he was concerned, a reasonable tone. 

"Fine," Snape sighed. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare!" Harry said, wondering what his dad might come up with. 

"I dare you to go to bed right now."

"Um. No. That's not how the game works," Harry rolled his eyes. Adults, he thought sarcastically. "Okay, since you just forfeited your turn... Truth or dare?"

Snape looked at him dryly. "Truth," he intoned. 

"Okay, okay," Harry sat up, wracking his brain for a really good one. "Is it true that you had a crush on my mum?" he asked, hoping he wasn't crossing a line and also hoping to hear more about his mother. 

"No," his dad replied. "No, I loved Lily dearly. She was so much fun to be around, clever and bubbly. Not unlike you," he smiled at Harry. "But I did not have a crush on her. It would be more honest to say I had a crush on Lucius Malfoy, if you want to put it in such terms."

"Oh gross!" Harry said, his face disgusted. "I did not need to think about that." Taking a drink of butter-beer and shaking his head in an attempt to clear the mental image he said, "OK, your turn. Try not to waste this one."

Laughing, Snape said, "Truth or Dare?"

"Dare," Harry said firmly. He still wanted to see what kind of dare his dad could give him. He was a Gryffindor, after all.

"I dare you to clear the table," Snape answered quickly, a smug smirk on his face. 

"Ugh, you are so bad at this!" Harry growled, but he stood and began gathering trash anyway. "Truth or dare?" he called from the kitchen.

"Truth," Severus said, propping his feet up on the now clear coffee table. 

"OK," Harry sat down beside him on the couch. "Do you think you'll ever get married?"

Severus snorted. "Not likely. I have no interest in anyone, nor do I have anything to offer a potential suitor." He held up a hand to stop Harry from interrupting. "A small house, a snarky personality, and a bratty Gryffindor son do not count."

Harry broke out into wild laughter then. "I can't believe you said 'potential suitor'," he wheezed. "Godric, Dad! You'll never get anyone with that attitude."

"I do not recall saying that I wanted to get anyone," he said, laughing as much at Harry's reaction as at the absurdity of the conversation.

Severus teased Harry over his seeming obsession with Draco Malfoy – "Like father, like son, I'd say," much to Harry's objection – and Harry teased Snape over everything he could think of. They talked and laughed for another hour or so, until the record player quit playing and Harry was dozing, his head in Snape's lap.

When Snape's feet began to fall asleep, he gently nudged Harry's shoulder. "Alright," he said, rousing the boy. "I think it is well past time for us to be in bed."

Sitting up, Harry rubbed his eyes sleepily. "OK," he said, yawning. "Good night, dad."

"Good night, my Harry," he smiled after his son.

Chapter Text

"How come wizards don't have Bonfire Night?" Harry wondered as they were preparing to head back to Hogwarts on Sunday. "I mean, we have loads of other holidays that seem pretty muggle. Plus, think how wicked it would be with our fireworks!"

Severus himself had often wondered why some holidays were accepted in the wizarding world and others were ignored. He had even broached the subject with Lucius once, but the man had looked at him as if he were crazy, so he assumed it was simply another quirk of their world. 

"I honestly have no idea," he replied, as he walked through the house, ensuring that lights were off and wards were set before they left. "Perhaps you should ask Miss Granger. You could give her a new cause to champion," he smirked.

"Merlin. No thanks," Harry said, his eyes comically wide. "It's not worth all that for a few Fireworks and some butter-beer."

Harry had told Severus all about Granger's futile attempts at freeing the house elves. He'd been shocked at the idea that someone so intelligent and observant could be so incredibly dense. It wasn't even that it was a bad idea – it was quite a good one, in his mind – it was simply that, in attempting to liberate an oppressed people, listening to said people ought to have been her first course of action. He supposed he shouldn't have been terribly surprised that a child had acted like a child, but he had little tolerance for such recklessness. 

"Alright, Harry," he said finally, having finished his walk-through, "I think it is time for us to get back to school." 

Sighing, Harry said, "You know, I always used to be so happy to get back to school. Now I think I'd just as soon stay home with you."

Severus found himself rather agreeing with that sentiment. 

♡●♡●♡●♡

Despite his insistence that he wouldn't mention Bonfire Night to Hermione, he couldn't get the idea of wizard fireworks out of his head. He did mention it to her, almost immediately after getting back to school. She had no idea why wizards celebrated some holidays and not others, so she headed straight for the library and he saw little of her for the next few days. 

He also mentioned it to Ron who, having grown up in the wizarding world, knew nothing about it, but he was just as thrilled as Harry was by the possibility of fireworks at school. 

Ron, in turn, mentioned it to Dean who told Seamus and once Seamus had heard about the possibility of pyrotechnics at school, he refused to let the idea go, too. 

Before Harry knew it, the idea had grown into something that was entirely out of his control. The Weasley twins had winked at him and told him to leave everything to them, which probably should have made him more nervous than it did. But the whole of Gryffindor Tower was buzzing about a party with fireworks by that point; they were all reciting "Remember, remember the 5th of November" as some sort of party-based rally cry and Harry was as caught up in the hype as everyone else was.

When the evening of the 5th arrived, all of the Gryffindor students rushed back to their common room immediately after dinner. Even Hermione had decided to forgo the library for the evening so that she could just enjoy this meeting between the Wizarding world and the muggle one. 

Somehow, all manner of snacks and sweets had been acquired and set up around the room. All the lions dug in right away. It didn't take long for the common room to be buzzing with a party-like atmosphere. Everyone was laughing and joking as the butter-beer flowed. The ruckus of the room was punctuated by the sounds of people spitting out the nasty Bertie Botts Beans and the occasional chirp of someone who'd turned, briefly, into a canary. Everyone was having a grand time and Harry was the hero of the night. 

He was honestly proud of himself for this one. If he was going to be touted as a hero, he'd rather it be for inspiring a party than for something he couldn't even remember. 

When the sun had fully set over Scotland, the twins called for silence. 

"Ladies, gentlemen, and variations thereupon," George began. "First of all, we would like to thank our esteemed compatriot, Harry Potter, for bringing this gross oversight to our attention. We are proud to be the ones to bridge this historic gap between wizard and muggle!"

"And now, without further ado," Fred continued, "We will ask everyone to step to the nearest window. No pushing, please. We live in a tower, there are windows for all." He clapped his hands decisively. "Welcome, friends, to our first annual Bonfire Night!"

The fireworks display was like nothing Harry had ever seen. There were wild animals made of pure light, dancing around the night sky. Sparkling pinwheels spun between them and great bursts of color filled the air. 

And the noise! Harry had never heard so much noise. It was a delightful cacophony of sound. A riot of booms and bangs, roaring lions and trumpeting elephants… he was sure it could be heard over the whole castle! He glanced down toward the ground and the grin melted off his face. Of course it could be heard over the whole castle. 

Dumbledore stood there on the castle grounds, a look of faint amusement on his face. Behind him stood all the Heads of House. Professor Flitwick looked intrigued, and McGonnagall looked annoyed. Sprout just looked tired and Snape…

Harry wanted to melt into the floor. Severus Snape looked mutinous. Harry watched as his dad's gaze drifted from the lights in the sky to Gryffindor Tower. He raised his wand and pointed it at his throat. "Harry Potter," he called, his deep voice thundering even over the riot of noise from the fireworks. "My office. Now." Then he spun and walked back into the castle, his black robes flapping behind him as he left the other teachers standing there. 

"Erm, I guess I gotta go," he told his friends sheepishly. As he walked to the door, they all looked at him with sympathy, patting his back and offering little words of encouragement. 

The walk to the dungeons seemed far quicker than usual. In fact, he wondered why he could never make it this quickly when he was late for potions. He hadn't particularly wanted this trip to be so quick, but here he was, already standing in front of his dad's door preparing to be given a dressing-down.

Suddenly the door swung open and he jumped. There stood Snape in all his bat-like glory, his black eyes glittering dangerously as he ushered Harry inside and told him to sit. Harry sat.

"What on earth were you thinking, Harry?" he asked, his voice sounding hard and brittle. 

"I didn't do anything!" Harry protested. "I only asked Hermione like you told me to. But she didn't know, so I asked Ron and he asked Dean who asked Seamus," he trailed off for a moment, gazing up at his dad's exasperated face. "And Seamus told the twins and the twins threw a party," he finished quickly.

Snape closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Merlin, Harry," he sighed. "And you never once thought to inform anyone of this?"

"Well, no, not really," Harry said. Why would he tell a grown up about a party? They'd just shut it down. 

"Harry, are you aware that there are dementors roaming the grounds? And that they may be attracted by the joyful sounds of laughing children?" Snape said sharply. "And are you aware that the people of Hogsmeade are frightened right now because a criminal is on the loose and a racket like that could cause them anguish?"

Harry hung his head. "I hadn't thought of any of that, sir. I'm sorry," he said, feeling rather thick. 

His dad sighed then and came around the desk to kneel beside him. "My Harry," he started in a softer tone, "it is not my wish to stop you from having fun. But protecting you and the others around us must be my first priority. You understand?" He wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders. 

"I'm sorry, dad," Harry said in a small voice. He felt terrible. He really hadn't thought of any of those things at all, but he should have. He knew, more than most people, that safety was the most important thing right now. 

"I know," Snape said. "Just promise me that you will come to me if you hear of any more idiotic schemes. I will not incriminate you, my Harry. I have no problem playing the bad guy in such situations. You just need to come to me."

"I will!" Harry said earnestly. "I promise!"

"Very well," Snape said. "Thank you. And Harry," he asserted. Harry looked up at him. "Detention with me. Saturday. I shall let Minerva deal with your classmates." He smirked down at Harry, daring him to argue.

Harry just rolled his eyes and sighed. "Okay, dad. You don't have to look so happy about it though."

Chapter Text

Even as much as Harry whined about it, Severus thought he really could have given Harry a far worse detention. He knew for a fact that the Weasley twins were spending their day shadowing Filch, so in his opinion Harry was really getting off rather easy with only having to organize books and potions ingredients. In fact, he thought he may need to assign detention to Harry more frequently; he found that spending the day listening to his son chatter and knowing that he wasn't out causing trouble was fairly pleasant. 

Just before mid-day, he looked up to find Harry sitting on the floor and looking with interest at a book from his shelves rather than working. "I think you're supposed to be organizing those, Potter," he said in a dark tone, though he was amused at Harry's ridiculous ability to do the wrong thing no matter how simple the task. 

Harry looked up sheepishly and said, "Yeah, I've finished the bookshelves. I just found this book and got interested in it. It's not about potions."

"The fact that you're interested in it at all tells me that it's not about potions," Snape replied dryly. He took the book from Harry to see the title then handed it back. "Ah, floriography," he said, then added with amusement, "I suppose you're looking for something to send to Mr. Malfoy?"

"What? No!" Harry spluttered, his cheeks going pink. "I mean, yeah, maybe I'll send him a rhododendron," he said after studying the pages for a moment. 

Snape raised a dark eyebrow. "'I am dangerous?'" he quoted from the book. "Fitting. I do imagine you'd be most dangerous to his virtue if given the chance," he teased.

Green eyes went wide with embarrassment. "Godric, dad! Please stop talking!"

Snickering, Snape said, "Certainly." Then after a beat, "If you'd like to be a bit more straightforward, might I suggest a red rose?"

Harry rolled his eyes and flopped back on the floor in exasperation. "Whatever," he said. "I found the ones you gave me in the cemetery. You admire James Potter," he said in an accusing tone. "And you do love my mum."

Severus placed a finger to his lips as he thought. It was true, in a sense. That is what the flowers he'd conjured on Halloween night had meant. "My Harry," he said softly, "how could I not admire your father now that you are in my life? I may have hated the man, but he gave his life for yours. I cannot help but admire him for that. And of course I loved your mother. I have told you as much. My devotion to her was not romantic or sexual in nature, but that does not diminish the quality of my love."

Slowly, Harry sat back up and nodded. "That makes sense," he said thoughtfully. "Can I keep this?" he asked, holding the book up. 

Snape nodded then told him to get back to work. He had little need for the book any longer. He had the bulk of it memorised and, if he did need to know anything from it, it wasn't as though the book would be inaccessible in Harry's possession. 

♡●♡●♡●♡

A few days later at breakfast, Harry's owl came swooping down to Severus bearing a short missive and a cluster of yellow marsh marigolds. 

Hey, dad! Just checking to see if I'm doing this right! 

-Harry

Severus rolled his dark eyes and thought for a moment. Marsh marigold… king's cup. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he huffed out an exasperated chuckle. Harry had sent him a bouquet which said "I wish I was rich." The lovable idiot. 

He looked up and saw Harry staring gleefully at him from the Gryffindor table and resolved to not show any further reaction in spite of his amusement. How was he supposed to be respected as a teacher with his son sitting there sending him cheerful yellow flower messages? 

That evening, he gathered a quill and parchment and penned his own letter back to Harry.

Harry, 

I have seen your Gringott's vault. You already are rich. However, if it is further wealth you seek, Mr. Malfoy remains an excellent choice.

-Dad

He walked briskly to the owlery and found Asphodel there. He stroked the owl's dusky grey head as he conjured a small bouquet of his own, smiling sneakily as he did so. This was precisely the thing he loved about floriography. Was there really any better way to call someone an idiot than with a frilly-looking bundle of red geraniums? 

The next morning it was his turn to watch with interest as the mail was delivered. His sharp eyes took in everything, so he did not miss the wide-eyed look on Harry's face as he read the letter. He watched as Harry touched the geraniums, then pulled the flower book from his bag and began flipping through to find the meaning. 

Severus was unable to contain his smirk as Harry, apparently, found the listing for geraniums and burst out laughing. Miss Granger glanced over his shoulder, her lips moving slightly as she read "geranium: stupidity, folly," then looked up at Snape, slightly appalled. 

His smirk grew into a small smile as he watched his son laugh. Likely, no one else could understand the relationship that he and Harry had, and that was okay. He was used to being misunderstood, but he was glad that, with Harry, he had one person who got him. 

The next missive that arrived in Harry's scratchy handwriting proved as much. 

Dad, 

Seems like you're projecting your own feelings for Lord Malfoy into me. I think you should go for it. Maybe he has an open marriage. And I could always use another father figure, especially one who could hear about this. 

-Harry

Severus snickered as he picked up the little bundle of flowers that had arrived with the letter. Fluffy, tendril-like pink hyacinth interspersed with deep purple barberry leaves. Harry had playfully told him that he was bad tempered and he found that he appreciated that as much as, perhaps, any gift he'd ever received. Well played, my Harry, he thought. Well played.

He spent the rest of his day with his son on his mind. True, he had never planned on having children but, now that he had Harry, he couldn't imagine life without him. Even had he sired a child himself, he felt that they couldn't possibly mesh as well with him as his Harry did. He certainly hadn't had this with his own father. This playful banter and genuine love and understanding that they shared was something he hadn't even known that he'd been missing. 

When he sent off his reply that evening, he sent it with purpose. He loved the gentle ribbing and spirited barbs that they were able to send back and forth, but he also wanted Harry to know how much he truly appreciated him as well.

My Harry,

All joking aside, I do not know if the future holds a second father-figure for you, but I want you to know that I am immensely happy and proud to be the one you have now. 

-Dad

He conjured a small bouquet of delicate yellow flowers, the petals shaped like little hearts. It was a bit nauseating if he was being honest, but Harry deserved it. He had lost much in his life and Severus was not above being occasionally sentimental for the sake of his son. 

He sent Asphodel off with the little yellow cinquefoil – beloved child – right away, wanting Harry to receive them in the privacy of his dorm rather than in front of his peers at breakfast. 

When Hedwig fluttered over to him the next morning, affectionately nuzzling his hand, he was unsurprised. The letter Harry sent back was short, but his dark eyes felt wet as he read it. 

Dad,

I love you too. 

-Harry 

Chapter Text

As the Christmas holidays approached, Harry began to give more thought to what that would look like for him. Last year, he'd stayed at the castle and, while it was still one of the best Christmases of his life, he really hoped for more of a true holiday spent with his dad in their little home. He wasn't even positive that they would be leaving the castle; he knew that, as Head of House, his dad did have the students to think of, but he couldn't help hoping for something more cozy and intimate. 

He also started paying more attention to the plans of the other students around him. It didn't seem so depressing to hear about holiday cheer and family fun now that he knew that it was something he could have as well. He was surprised to find that some of the students were discussing Yule Balls and formal New Year's Eve parties. He really hadn't ever thought about his peers attending fancy dos. 

Ron brushed it off when he asked him about it. "Yeah, mum and dad sometimes go to the Ministry ball. Seems like a bloody waste of time to me. Who wants to wear frilly clothes to some poncy party when they could be comfortable at home?" The ginger-haired boy shrugged as if he was completely baffled by the thought. 

Harry laughed, but secretly he thought that maybe he would like to go to one sometime. He knew that magic could make even the most mundane things seem whimsical and beautiful, so he could only imagine how amazing a fancy party could be in the magical world.

His dad proved much more helpful when he got the chance to ask him. It was the Thursday before Christmas hols were due to begin and he had slipped down to the dungeons after dinner in hopes of hammering out their plans for the break.

Snape confirmed that he had, indeed, planned for them to leave the castle and go home. He had already asked Professor Sinistra to take care of any Slytherins that remained at the castle for Christmas and had confirmed his plans with Dumbledore. "It is our first Christmas as a family," he said, his dark eyebrows raised as if Harry were silly for even considering otherwise. "I have no intention of spending it in this castle when we could be at home."

Harry really hadn't thought about the fact that Snape had likely never had a proper Christmas with family either, and now that he had, he did think himself rather silly. He and his dad had similar pasts and were working together for a happier life. Why wouldn't they go home and spend their time together dying Christmasy things. Whatever those things might be. 

"So, are we going to any parties?" he asked hopefully. 

"Would you like to?" Snape responded, looking surprised.

"I don't quite know," Harry said slowly. "I heard some people talking about them and it seems fun, but I don't really know what one would be like."

"Ah," Snape gazed at him thoughtfully. "We were invited to the Malfoy's Yule party, of course. I generally decline, but have not done so yet this year, so that is an option if you'd like to experience it. We would need dress robes, of course." He looked mildly disgusted at the thought of dress robes, but continued without mentioning it. "There would be food and drink and inane chatter. And live music, of course, with dancing."

"Ohhh," Harry said. He loved the idea of live music! He'd never actually seen a live band before and, with his new-found love of music, he thought that he probably should. Dancing, on the other hand, was a completely different story. Why hadn't he considered the fact that there would be dancing at a party? "I don't suppose I'd want to go then. I don't know how to dance, even if there was anyone for me to dance with."

His dad smirked at him. "I'm certain you could find someone you'd like to dance with at the Malfoys', Harry. And it would be no difficulty for me to teach you to dance, I'm sure."

Rolling his eyes, Harry considered it. Even if they didn't decide to go to the party, it would be good to know how to dance. And he thought it would be interesting, if nothing else, to have strict severe Severus Snape teaching him to do it. 

"Alright," he agreed with a grin. 

♡●♡●♡●♡

Snape's assurances that it would be no difficulty to teach Harry to dance proved to be absolutely incorrect, Harry surmised. They had gotten home on Friday evening, but waited until the next morning to begin dancing lessons. Now that they'd begun, Harry found himself rather grateful for the fact that they'd waited. At least they'd had some time to relax before he started annoying his dad with his utterly horrible dance skills. 

He squeezed Snape's hand too tightly, he trod on the man's feet more often than he did on the floor, and, in one particularly spectacular movement, tangled their legs together so that they both went sprawling to the ground. They had been at it for several hours and, if possible, Harry thought that he'd gotten even worse at it than when they had started. 

Pinching his nose in exasperation, Snape finally tried a different tactic. Switching the record player off, he removed the record of classical music they'd been working with and replaced it with one that was more to both of their taste. Harry was feeling rather wary at this point, but figured that he didn't have anything to lose by trying one more time. 

"Close your eyes, Harry," Snape said as he approached him again, taking Harry's hand and wrapping his other arm loosely around his waist. "Just stay still for a moment and feel the beat of the music." He tapped the beat out lightly on the back of Harry's hand as they stood there, listening, feeling the music.

Wild horses

Couldn't drag me away

Wild, wild horses 

Couldn't drag me away

"Now move with me, Harry," he murmured as he began to slowly move in time with the song. 

Taking a deep breath, Harry followed his father's lead, still not opening his eyes. The music surrounded him and filled him and, suddenly, it didn't seem so impossible. His hips felt looser, his shoulders more relaxed, his feet hit the floor more often than they hit Snape's feet. He was, more or less, dancing!

As the song ended, he finally opened his eyes and beamed brightly up at his dad. "I did it!" he exclaimed.

Snape smiled back at him, one of those rare genuine smiles that made Harry feel so warm, so loved. 

"So you did, my Harry," he said. "I've no doubt you'll be ready for Draco by Christmas at this rate. Just pray that the Malfoys are familiar with Mick Jagger."

Even the gentle ribbing about Malfoy couldn't get to him at that moment, though. He was too busy celebrating, gyrating in a decidedly ridiculous way to the next track on the album and loudly singing, "Can't you hear me knocking on your window!"

Snape rolled his eyes and sighed, watching him with amusement. "On second thought," he muttered, "perhaps we should hope that they aren't too familiar with Mick Jagger."