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Chapter Text

That insolent brat! Severus thought as he strode down the dark hall of Hogwarts. His leg was slowly starting to feel better after that damn three-headed monster had bitten him, but the massive headache that that boy caused had grown worse. No matter what the savior of the wizarding world did, he was always rewarded instead of properly discipline. Being allowed on the Quidditch team instead of at least a detention, awarded points for facing off a mountain troll, and even displayed the nerve to disturb his privacy while he had Filch look at the wound on his leg. Just an insolent, spoiled, incorrigible brat!

Severus grinded his teeth together. The boy needed more than a detention at this point. He had been rewarded far too often for his dangerous, life-threatening stunts. The connection between risking one's life and punishment would simply not be made in the child's mind if he were to suddenly be disciplined properly. How very unfortunate for the child. He would just keep risking his and his friends' necks if something didn't change. But neither Minerva nor Albus would step up and put an end to such daring behavior.

At least he could find some peace in nightly strolls through the castle, patrolling the halls for wayward students. He didn't run into any miscreants often and if he did, they were usually upper year Gryffindors. He loved taking away points and explaining to Minerva how her house had lost points overnight. Once or twice he would come across a student from another house – rarely his own, however, which he was proud to admit. Ah, yes, nights like these were just what he needed to take his mind off that spoiled child.

Turning a sharp corner, Severus nearly growled at the shadowy figure wandering through the hall. He softened his footsteps and advanced the student swiftly. When he was close enough to grab the night wanderer, he revealed his presence by casting a lumos. The young figure turned around sharply.

Severus damned himself silently.

"Why, if it isn't Mr. Potter," said Severus in a low tone. "And what might you be doing out of bed at this hour? Surely even the hero of the wizarding world needs his beauty sleep to look his best for his fans."

Harry bit his lip and said, "I was, err, I was just, erm . . ."

"Eloquent, as usual," Severus smirked.

Harry glared. "I couldn't sleep."

"So, naturally, you decide to wander aimlessly around a large, potentially dangerous castle in the middle of the night."

Harry said nothing, just kept his head down, watching his shoes dig into the floor.

"Despite how fascinating your shoes are, you should show some respect to your elders and look up at me when I am speaking to you. I'm sure that must be exceedingly difficult for you, considering your status and all the pampering you've been given, you spoiled –"

"I'm not pampered or spoiled . . ."

"Do not interrupt me, boy!"

Harry quickly fell silent.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Potter," Severus decided after a long, intense moment. "And a detention with me tomorrow –"

"But sir!" exclaimed Harry. "The first Quidditch match is tomorrow!"

Severus raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"Well, I have to play. I'm the only seeker and . . . I just can't miss the game."

"As much as I would love to sabotage Gryffindor's chances of winning tomorrow, I am in no mood to listen to complaints and crying from you lions. And had you not interrupted me once again, you would know that your detention is tomorrow evening at seven, long after your game is over."

"Oh," Harry looked back down at his feet. Severus could see a slight reddish color blooming on the boy's cheeks.

"And for your interruption, that will be another five points from Gryffindor."

"What!? That's not fair!"

"Life isn't fair." Severus nearly rolled his eyes at the overly used phrase. "I don't care how famous you are, you will learn that you are not above the rules."

"You're the only one who thinks I'm above the rules!"

"And yet you find yourself privileged to take midnight strolls through the castle when all students are supposed to be in bed."

"I told you I couldn't sleep."

"That does not negate the fact that you still broke school rules. I wouldn't care if you laid in bed and counted a million sheep, but you decided that leaving the safety of your dorm was the best course of action to solve your problem. And now you will have to face the consequences of your actions."

Harry was glaring at him now. Severus was probably enjoying this more than he should be. Finally, a chance to knock the brat down a peg or two. This would teach him that he couldn't get away with everything.

"Fine," Harry snapped. "I'll head back to bed."

As Harry turned around, Severus's sharp hearing caught a softly muttered, "greasy git."

He didn't know what compelled him to do it, but he snatched the boy's wrist and yanked him into a nearby classroom. It may have been a terrible impulse, but Severus didn't resist it. He would teach this boy some respect if it was the last bloody thing he did. Taking points didn't work. Handing out detentions didn't work. Nothing ever seemed to faze the child. He would fix that. He dragged Harry to the nearest desk and pulled out the stool from under it. Harry struggled against his grip, but Severus kept a firm hold on him.

"Let me go!" Harry shouted at him.

Severus ignored him and sat down on the stool, setting his wand down on the desk to light up the space for him. He pulled the boy to him and tipped him over his knees. He felt the boy's demeanor shift dramatically at that. Severus wrapped an arm around Harry's waist, pulling the boy in close, trapping one arm between himself and the child. There wasn't much he could do about the kicking legs but he was sure they would lose the effort to kick soon. The position he was in felt both natural and unnatural. He had never done this before. It was odd, feeling the weight of a wriggling child over his knees; a small child whose toes didn't even reach the floor. But Potter was unusually small. Perhaps he was just a late bloomer – a growth sprout would change that soon.

"What are you doing?" Harry panted, struggling to stand back up, his feet kicking violently.

"What I should have done the day you first stepped foot in this school!" Severus answered.

He raised his hand and smacked the pajama clad bottom. It produced a loud slap and his hand tingled from it. He heard Harry gasp and the child seemed to freeze for a second, probably more from shock than pain.

"Professor! No! You can't!"

"You are in no position to tell me what I can and can't do," Severus retorted, raising his hand and smacking the small bottom again.

"Ow! Stop!"

"In fact, you are never in any position to tell me what to do."

Severus smacked Harry again.

"No – stop it!"

Harry threw back his free arm and covered his bottom with a hand. Severus stared down at the hand, unsure of how to carry on. What was he supposed to do – slap the hand? That didn't seem right. He could just spank the child's thighs until the boy removed his hand. After a brief hesitation, Severus shifted his arm slightly so he still had the boy restrained against him and grabbed the small wrist, pinning it to the small of the child's back. Harry struggled more, his legs kicking and his feet smashing into Severus's calves. It didn't hurt much since the boy wore slippers but it irritated Severus enough to start his punishment back up.

He raised his hand and smacked Harry hard twice more.

"Ow! Please, sir, stop!"

Another smack.

"Ah! Snape! No more!"

A harder smack.

"That's Professor Snape to you."

"Ow! Professor, please!"

Severus decided to ignore the cries and pleas and began spanking the child, laying down hard, evenly timed smacks. He wasn't counting how many or measuring out how hard. He was just letting the message sink in – no matter how long that might take. Harry continued to cry out, begging him to stop, his legs still kicking. What was he waiting for? The child to give and break? Sobbing? the boy had yet to shed a single tear – was that the goal?

"Please, Professor, I'm sorry!"

Severus hesitated at that. Harry had stopped kicking now and his voice seemed a bit choked. He had to have placed a good twenty smacks by now. Maybe a few more, with a lecture to end it.

"I hope you learn from this, Potter," Severus began, smacking the boy again. "I will not tolerate disrespect from you. If I hear anymore rude commentary come from your mouth again, you can expect a mouth full of soap. And the rules do not exclude you, Potter. This nighttime exploring ends tonight. I don't care what your reasons are for being awake at this time, you will stay in the safety of your dorm from this point forward. Am I clear?"

Harry was crying. Severus could feel the child shake with sobs. The message was sinking in. Severus wondered if he should bring up any of the other misadventures the child had had, but those were in the past. It would be pointless to punish the boy for those now after he had already been praised for them. Best to fix what he could now. Harry continued to cry over his knees, not even acknowledging his lecture.

"I said, am I clear?" Severus gave a very hard smack to the boy's bottom, which had to be red by now. Severus's own hand was tingling and he flexed his fingers and rubbed his palm with his fingertips.

"Yes, sir!" Harry choked out. "I'm sorry. I'll be good now."

"Is that so?" Severus sneered down at Harry. "No more naughtiness?"

"Yes," Harry sniffed. "No more. I'll be good."

"Good."

Severus gave Harry one last smack and lifted the boy off his knees. He stood up and pushed the boy down on the stool. Harry yelped and tried to stand back up, but Severus kept a firm grip on the boy's shoulders, keeping him seated on the stool. Harry stared up at him with hurt green eyes. Severus had to look away from those torture devices after a moment.

"Stay sitting," Severus demanded. Why did Potter have to sit down again? "It's part of the punishment." That'll have to work as an excuse.

Harry whimpered but when Severus released him, Harry didn't try standing again. Severus stared down at the boy, watching as the child hid his face in his hands and cried softly, resting his elbows on his knees. Severus wasn't one for comfort so he just waited for Harry to collect himself together. It gave him some time to think.

Had he really just spanked Harry James Potter? Dumbledore's Golden Boy? What went through his mind that made him think that that would have been okay? Spanking wasn't even technically allowed at Hogwarts anymore. He would be fired if word got out about this – fired for sure. After a tongue lashing from the headmaster and maybe a few curses from Minerva. It had really been an impulse. The boy was far too privileged in the school and he had just wanted some way to punish the brat and even out the score of awarded points and punishments. He had stepped over a line, however. How would he slither his way out of this?

And more importantly, why did he give in to the impulse?

A smacking was a rather intimate form of punishment – something usually done by parents. He was no parent figure to the great Boy-Who-Lived, but he would have to justify his actions somehow.

Harry had stopped his blubbering now and was sniffing quietly, staring down at his shoes, his hands itching to reach back and rub, Severus was sure. Severus sneered down at him, resuming his usual self after his little out of character bout.

"You will learn to obey the rules, Potter," Severus said.

Harry just sniffled.

"Potter!"

Harry snapped his head up at Severus and gave a small "yes, sir." He sniffled again and swiped at his nose. Just wonderful, child snot everywhere.

"Hmph," Severus reached into his robes and pulled out a handkerchief, briskly handing it to the boy. "Clean your face and blow your nose."

Harry did so, watching Severus warily.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered, scrunching the handkerchief in his hands.

"So you've said. Tell me, Potter, what are you sorry for?"

"For disrespecting you."

"And?"

"And – and being out after curfew."

"Far past curfew," Severus nodded. "And you will do well not to repeat your nightly adventures or you will find yourself over my knees again."

Damn it, he shouldn't have made such a threat. What was he thinking, saying that to Potter? He couldn't possibly follow through on that – could he?

"Yes, sir."

At least the boy's compliant – for once. The wonders a spanking could do – why hadn't he tried this tactic sooner? A few of his Slytherins could use a hiding, especially another first year who seemed to believe himself over privileged. Even though Harry looked ready to cry again at the threat, he was giving him no attitude or rude remarks. Improvement in Severus's eyes. Severus watched as Harry tried to hand back the soiled handkerchief. He narrowed is eyes at it and then glared at the boy.

"What makes you think I want it back?" he snapped. "Hold on to it for another episode of your childish dramatics."

Harry slowly pulled his hand back to him, looking even more upset, those green eyes glistening with unshed tears. Severus rolled his eyes at the waterworks building up. Just great. Perhaps the boy was just tired – that was a common issue with kids, wasn't it? They were always tired and in need of a nap. He figured it was late anyway.

"Come, Potter," Severus waved a hand impatiently. "I shall walk you back to your tower."

Why was he walking him back? Oh, yes, in case Harry ran into any more professors. He would let the others know that he had taken care of the problem. That was all. Harry stood and reached his hands back to his bottom.

"No rubbing," Severus commanded, picking his wand back up and herding the boy out of the classroom with a hand on the boy's shoulder.

Harry removed his hands but they twitched to reach back once more.

It was a silent walk to the tower and they didn't run into any professors, not even Filch. It was a quiet night at Hogwarts, even given what had occurred in that empty classroom.

"Sir?" Harry finally broke the silence as they neared the Fat Lady's portrait.

"Yes, Potter?"

"Are you – umm, can you even . . . err . . ."

"Spit it out, Potter."

"Are you allowed to even do that?" Harry finally asked, blushing. "Smack me, I mean."

Of course, Severus thought, he would ask about that. Why would the boy not? Severus considered Harry for a moment.

"It has not exactly been brought up at meetings for dealing with unruly students," he decided to stay. "But if you are so concerned, I'll gladly discuss the events of tonight with the headmaster."  

They stopped in front of the Gryffindor Tower's entrance and Harry looked down at his feet, shuffling slightly. Severus waited for a response – the boy practically had blackmail against him.

"Er, that's okay, sir," Harry said, blushing furiously.

Severus raised an eyebrow. He had been expecting threats from the boy – threats to have him fired so he could never dare lay a hand on the little prince again. He had threatened to repeat the punishment, after all. This was the last thing he anticipated from Harry. Some Slytherin you are, Potter, Severus thought curiously.

"Very well," Severus inclined his head. "Remember, you have detention tomorrow at seven pm sharp. Do not be late."

"Yes, sir."

"Go to bed." Severus pointed at the portrait and Harry stepped up to it. "And stay in bed this time."

"Yes, sir."

Severus watched as Harry disappeared behind the portrait. He let go of a heavy sigh. That child would be the death of him. Yet, the boy had been willing to keep what had happened that night a secret. And to what gain? To save his own dignity? Embarrassment? Was the wondrous boy-who-lived spanked like the naughty, little boy he was too humiliating to take up to the headmaster? Severus was surprised the spoiled prince wasn't whining to someone now, letting someone know that his pampered behind had been assaulted by his hated potions professor. Why keep the secret? How very curious.

Why did he care? Severus shook himself from his stupor and made his way back towards the dungeons. He hated the Potter whelp. The boy agreed to keep the incident a secret. Lucky him if not so lucky for the boy.

He had at least punished the brat properly.

Chapter Text

Someone dared to hex the boy's broom! Severus was furious as he stormed away from the Quidditch pitch. He had a pretty good suspicion of who may have been the culprit – attempting to attack Harry midflight – but he could not act on mere suspicions. He would need hard evidence and that would not be easy to gather. It would have to wait until he could prove to the Headmaster that his suspect was the perpetrator.

Until then, he would keep a closer eye on the Potter whelp.

Then there were his robes. His expensive teaching robes burned at the end, fraying the silky thread to ruins. When he discovers whoever burned his robes he would throttle that person. Unless it was a student. Then he'd take a hundred points and handout a year's worth of detentions.

Severus angrily swept through the halls back to the dungeons to wait for the boy's detention time. He entered his quarters and went to his study, deciding to work on grading homework assignments until he had to leave for the potions classroom. He wasn't in much of a mood to grade, his day just couldn't have started worse. Sitting at his large desk, he pulled a hefty stack of parchment towards him and picked up the first third-year paper on the ingredients needed for a Confusing Concoction. Within the first paragraph, Severus spotted several mistakes. The first paragraph was drowning in red ink from all his corrections.

Idiots! Severus thought, sighing irritably. All of them – just idiots!

Lily Evans (he refused to think of her as a Potter) had been a know-it-all, Severus's mind began to wander. A good know-it-all, not the bratty kind. She had been a brilliant student, especially in her charms. Potions had never been a favorite of hers, but she still managed to excel with high grades.

Unlike her son.

Severus's mind thought about Harry's poor performance in his class. The boy was nearly careless with the ingredients, chopping at odd angles and wasting unnecessary amounts of good material. He read the instructions too hastily in Severus's opinion. There was no way one could comprehend what was needed with a quick glance at the words in the book. The boy needed to learn discipline, patience, and better prepping skills. The detention later that evening should provide some practice for him.

Discipline, patience, prepping.

Severus thought back to last night's events. He had actually tipped Harry over his knees and smacked him. Thinking back to it made it all seem surreal. Had it been a dream?

No, the detention had been documented magically in the record-keeping book. Seven o'clock – Potter, Harry. No mistaking that he had handed out a detention last night. So the smacking had definitely taken place as well.

Then that left the question: why?

Why had he smacked the boy-who-lived? His hand twinged in remembrance and he rubbed at his palm absently, his grading abandoned. Not that it mattered – the students will receive their papers back when he wanted to hand them back. Anyway, thinking about last night brought about many questions.

Since the day Harry Potter arrived at Hogwarts, Severus felt a kind of . . . obligation to keep an eye on the boy, to protect and to watch over. And Severus knew that it wasn't just because he had promised Albus Dumbledore that he would help protect Lily's son. Was it that? That Harry was Lily's son? That he wanted to keep what remained of Lily alive and well even if that meant imprinting a harder lesson on the boy?

But what bit of Lily remained in Harry Potter?

Severus glared at the parchment in front of him, the misspelling of "Jabberknoll" screaming up at him where the student at least correctly mentioned the addition of a Jabberknoll feather into the potion, possibly the only correct sentence in the essay. Honestly, didn't children have any sense to look at the spelling in the book before writing it down?

The Potter boy certainly never did. His essays were always a mess, the paragraphs always tilting sideways and the words near illegible. His writing was just like his attitude, spoiled and careless, not taking anything seriously, even his own safety. He was nothing like his mother but all too much like his spoiled father. Severus ground his teeth as he thought about both Potters and how near identical they were. Save for the eyes.

And to redeem his sins, he would watch over Lily's child to the best of his ability, keeping him safe and alive.

And if that meant smacking the insolent boy, he would do so. That had to have been the reason he had acted as so last night.

Not that any of it mattered anymore, Severus thought, pushing the pile away. He really didn't feel like correcting poor excuses for essays. He sat back in his seat and summoned an elf to brew some tea for him. He rubbed wearily at his face, thinking back to the events of the game. He should cast an anti-hex charm on that broom. Without anyone knowing of course. He would see to it later, after he proctored his detention.

After his tea arrived, Severus decided to read a potions journal, analyzing the experimental ideas for shortcuts to brewing different potions and wondering about their effectiveness.

As seven o'clock neared, Severus, after eating dinner alone, left to the Potions classroom to wait for Harry. He set up a table for Harry, pulling out a mini barrel of dead billywigs. He would have Harry prep this ingredient for him, removing the stinger for potion use. It hardly required much to do so, just one barrel to drop the bodies in, another barrel to collect the stingers, and the child's hands. Nothing more.

6:50pm.

The boy had not arrived, but it was rather earlier. No one ever arrived early to a detention, especially not one with Severus Snape. Severus walked to his desk and sat down, prepared to wait the next ten minutes. He pulled a potions journal close and pulled out the quill feather where it marked his place, resuming where he had left off.

6:55pm.

Severus tore his eyes away from the antique clock and looked at the journal once more. Still plenty of time. No need to concern himself yet. The boy was probably on his way down at that moment, taking his sweet time because that was just like the Golden Boy. He was probably used to making people wait on him. Severus sneered. If the boy arrived a minute after his detention starting time, he would lecture that boy's ears off.

6:58pm.

Severus set his journal down and glared at the door where Harry should be entering any minute. He fiddled with the quill he used as a bookmark, rolling it in his fingers.

6:59pm.

Still no brat.

Severus glared at the clock now, its incessant ticking growing bothersome. His eyes darted from the clock to the door and back. Of course, the boy would decide to be late for his first detention. He hoped Harry did show at all for it would be signing a death wish to not come period.

7:00pm.

Severus gripped the quill tightly as he stared at the door that remained closed. He glanced back at the clock, counting down the seconds until 7:01pm. That insolent brat would receive another detention if he walked through the door after 7:01pm.

Thirty seconds later, the door flew open and Harry rushed into the room, quickly halting to a stop in the center, the door slamming closed.

Lucky him.

Severus scowled at Harry as he placed the quill in his place and stood to his feet, the clock now changing to 7:01pm. Harry visibly gulped and placed his hands behind his back as he watched Severus warily, his hands interlocking. He lowered his head, though his eyes still watched Severus's movements.

"Cutting it a bit close, are we, Potter?" Severus growled.

Severus wasn't really expecting an answer. It was a rhetorical question. He was surprised when Harry nodded his head, but his face showed no expression as he merely inclined his head slighty.

"Is that so? And why might that be? Do they wish for you to lose more points for your house?"

"No, sir. It's just that . . . after the game . . . it's nothing. They just didn't want me to come."

"And if you hadn't, you would have suffered severe consequences. Not only for disobeying your professor and skipping a legal detention, but for wasting my time as well. It doesn't matter how much your friends want you to stay to celebrate Gryffindor's win at the game where you gracefully fell off your broom and swallowed the snitch, when you have a detention or a scheduled appointment with a professor, you should be wise to arrive on time, if not a couple minutes early."

"Yes, sir. I'll remember that."

"You'll remember that?" Severus rounded the desk and stood in front of Harry, glaring down at the boy who hunched his shoulders slightly. "Do you plan on receiving more detentions, Potter?"

"No, sir."

Severus watched as Harry began to squirm anxiously, or nervously, in front of him. He decided he had enough berating the boy and led him over to the table he had set up.

"For tonight," Severus began, picking up a dead billywig. "You will be removing the stingers from the body of these billywigs. It's a simple pull and twist." Severus demonstrated quickly, dropping the body into one barrel and the stinger into the other. "Make sure you put the appropriate parts into the correct barrel. Can you handle that, Potter?"

"Yes, sir."

"Show me."

Harry didn't seem to expect that command but he quickly stepped forward, taking Severus's place as the man stepped back. Severus watched as Harry tugged on the billywig, a surprised look overtaking his face as he tugged even harder and then twisted with equal amount of effort. The stinger separated, but it also broke in Harry's hand, greenish slime dripping down the boy's arm. Severus watched with dull interest as Harry dropped the billywig and stinger on the table, gasping at his slime covered hand, wide-eyed and hovering his other hand near it as if afraid to touch the slime.

"It . . . it broke on me!" Harry exclaimed.

"How observant." Severus rolled his eyes.

"Is it poisonous? Is my hand going to fall off?"

"No, Potter. The billywig is dead and the slime is relatively harmless. It would have to be injected into you to cause any giddiness or levitation."

Severus moved around Harry and reached summoned a towel.

"Giddiness?" Harry asked. "Levitation? Like floating?"

"That would be levitation, yes, Potter."

Severus held out the towel to Harry who didn't seem to realize he was being handed something, too busy staring at his hand.

"Well, take it."

Harry suddenly looked at Severus and then tilted his head and squinted even through his glasses at the towel. Severus frowned as Harry accepted the towel and wiped his hand off with it. Severus watched Harry closely. The child did seem to squint a lot even with his glasses on. Could the child see at all? It was curious, though would explain the messy, illegible handwriting. But so would never using a quill.

Severus walked over to the bookshelf behind his desk and grabbed a book he knew would have the excerpt he wanted. Harry finished wiping off his hand and looked curiously at Severus, holding on to the towel. Severus flipped through the book until he was nearly halfway through. He kept it opened to that page and handed it to Harry.

"Read that, Potter."

Harry accepted the book, handing over the towel that Severus banished away. Severus watched as Harry brought the book closer and closer to his face, his nose nearly touching the page, before he started reading.

"The billywig stinger produces a slime that contains cu-cur-ative properties, making it a valuable ingredient –"

"From here. You should be able to read the book from here like most people."

Harry blushed before squinting down at the book, his hands lifting it slightly before he forced them to stop. He stared hard down at the book.

"A valuable ingredient . . ." Harry started up again, reciting what he had just said. "f-for ex- . . . ex- . . . I don't know."

Potter's face couldn't possibly turn any redder without burning off, Severus thought amusedly. But He also realized that Harry couldn't see the book from a normal distance away – even with the glasses he wore. Perhaps he needed new prescriptions.

"When were your eyes last checked?"

"What do you mean?"

Severus rolled his eyes.

"When did you last have them looked at? By your ophthalmologist?"

"By my what?"

"Your eye doctor," Severus spelled out. He was annoyed now. Clearly the by had no respect for the medical practitioners who took great care in making sure the boy had the appropriate eye lenses. Spoiled, Severus couldn't help but think.

"Eye doctor?" Harry frowned, looking very confused. "I've never seen one."

"You've never . . ." Severus frowned down at the boy. "What are you talking about? Then who prescribed the glasses to you?"

Harry shuffled his feet uncomfortably. "No one prescribed them to me . . ."

"Do not mumble," Severus glared. "Where did you get those glasses?"

"Why does it matter?"

The boy sounded defensive, Severus took note. His glare deepened.

"Watch your tone, boy," Severus warned. "It matters because your glasses may be out of date. Of course, unless you like not being able to see a foot in front of you . . ."

"It's not my fault I can't see! Lay off!"

"Do not think I won't smack you again," Severus threatened, though he wasn't sure why. He couldn't possibly be able to follow through.

It had an immediate effect though. Harry's eyes grew wide and he seemed to withdraw his temper, hunching his shoulders and looking down at his feet, his cheeks burning again.

"Would you, Severus?"

Time seemed to freeze as the Headmaster's voice filled the room. Severus snapped his head to the doorway where Albus stood pensively. Harry looked back and forth between them.

"A word with you, Severus," Albus said, stepping out into the hall.

Severus suppressed a sigh and glared at Harry. "Do not move."

Harry nodded but added a quick "yes, sir," when Severus's glare deepened.

Severus stepped out into the hall where Albus was waiting, shutting the classroom door behind him.

"Yes, Headmaster?"

"I came down to talk to you about the events at today's Quidditch game and couldn't help but overhear the last part of your conversation with young Harry Potter."

"Headmaster, I . . . apologize for stepping over boundaries last night and –"

"I believe apologies may be pointless at this point. What's happened is in the past. I believe that while you may have acted unacceptably to the situation last night, I do think that you and the lad have come to an agreement. I trust that you will not abuse this arrangement and you will work harder to keep the boy safe and his impulsive behavior in check."

Severus blinked. Was the headmaster actually giving him . . . permission to deal with the boy?

"After what happened on the field today, Harry's safety is my number one priority. And Harry doesn't make keeping him safe easy. I fear he may put himself in danger as he did Halloween night, even with the sincerest of intentions. But while there is a threat in the school, Harry needs to follow the rules to the best of his ability. I trust you will see to that."

"I . . ." Severus began. He what? He what!? He probably looked like a baffled muggleborn seeing magic for the first time. What was it he wanted to say?

Severus was completely lost. He expected a scolding, a tongue lashing, the harshest berating one could receive on this planet and instead the Headmaster was giving him permission to continue with this . . . relationship. What if he didn't want this relationship? He hated the boy – he wanted nothing to do with him. This power he was suddenly being granted was rather overwhelming.

"Are you sure, Headmaster?" Severus asked.

"I trust you, Severus. I always have."

That wasn't comforting at all. Severus simply gave a nod. "Very well. I will keep a closer watch on the boy."

"Thank you, Severus. What happened on the Quidditch field cannot happen again. We cannot have the students at risk here. Did you see anything? Anyone?"

"I did not," Severus admitted, keeping his suspect to himself. "I was busy stopping Harry's broom hex. I didn't get the chance to see who may have been casting the hex. I have a suspicion, but I will let you know if I uncover any substantial evidence."

"Very well, Severus. Have a good evening."

The headmaster left with that, leaving a rather shocked Severus Snape behind to contemplate what he had just been told. Severus quickly shook himself from his stupor and went back inside the classroom, where Harry was sitting on a stool, his feet swinging carelessly, though he looked guiltily at Severus.

Severus glared at him.

"I believe I told you not to move."

"I only sat down," Harry argued, standing up though. "Did you get in trouble?"

"That is none of your concern," Severus's glare deepened. "However, I have just been informed by the headmaster that due to recent events I am to keep a close eye and . . . a firm hand if need be on one Harry Potter."

Harry seemed to pale at those words.

"Dumbledore wouldn't . . ."

"Professor Dumbledore," Severus corrected. "And if you have any questions or concerns, feel free to see him tomorrow during his visiting hours. I'm sure he would gladly indulge you."

Harry said nothing but his cheeks turned red as he stared down at his feet, shuffling them.

"You never answered my question. Where did you get those glasses? And the truth would be appreciated."

Harry was quiet a moment longer before he sighed and said, "In primary school, my teacher noticed me squinting a lot. He told Aunt Petunia when she came to pick Dudley and me up and she took us to some store and had me try on glasses. I found these ones and they helped a little and she bought them."

"Non-prescription glasses," Severus commented. "I believe your eyes need to be examined. You will visit Madam Pomfrey tomorrow so that you have appropriate lenses by the time classes resume. You will see her in the morning and I will check with Madam Pomfrey in the afternoon to make sure you did visit her. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir. Sir?"

"Yes?" Severus raised an eyebrow.

"On the Quidditch field, when my broom started acting weird, you said you were trying to stop it. Were you really trying to save me?"

Severus's eyes flashed angrily. He remembered the guilty look Harry had given him when he had entered the classroom, though he had thought it was because the boy had disobeyed his order to not move.

"You eavesdropped on my conversation with the Headmaster."

"I didn't hear much!" Harry defended, his face suddenly going pale as if realizing his stupid mistake. "It was hard to hear through the door and I only caught the very last part . . ."

Severus's nostrils flared and he stepped forward, grabbed Harry by the arm and turned him. He swatted him hard across the rear.

"Ow! Professor!"

Severus released Harry and continued to glare down at the boy. Harry's eyes were glassy and he looked up at Severus with indignation. Severus figured he might as well as put his newfound control over the boy to good use.

"If I ever catch you or hear of you eavesdropping on any conversation, you will find yourself over my knees. Your lack of respect for others' privacy will desist."

"Yes, sir."

Severus stared down at the contrite boy. He sighed and decided the boy deserved some kind of explanation.

"You are correct. I did try to stop your broom from throwing you off. The main concern is finding out who may have targeted you. Someone in this school clearly has every intention in harming you and that is why your safety is imperative. Your disregard for the rules could put you in danger and you will see to it that you follow them by the book from this point forward."

"Yes, sir. And thank you."

"Hmph," Severus stared down at Harry. "Your welcome."

Harry shuffled his feet more, looking back down at them. A thought hit Severus and he wasn't sure if he should be amused by it or offended.

"Your friends, Potter," Severus began, watching the boy snap his head up at him. "Did they believe that I hexed your broom? Is that why they didn't want you to come to detention?"

Harry nodded.

"Your friends aren't the ones who burned my robes are they?"

Harry's face went pale and he shook his head. Severus glowered at Harry, effectively changing the shake of the head to a nod. Severus smirked inwardly. The boy learns fast, he thought. Severus snorted and looked up at the clock.

"Now that we have wasted thirty minutes of your detention, you will spend the next forty minutes removing the stingers from the billywigs. And this time, try to avoid crushing the stinger in your hand. Not only does it waste slime that I can extract, you risk stabbing yourself with the stinger. Show me the task again."

Harry seemed to take a relieved breath and stepped up to the table and tried to use less force to remove the stinger. Pull, twist and . . . crush. Harry looked nervously at Severus. Severus resisted rolling his eyes at the timid look Harry gave him.

"Try again."

Harry pulled, twisted, and managed to save a usable stinger. Severus nodded and motioned for Harry to throw it in the barrel. He summoned another mini barrel and set it next to the one for the stingers.

"Throw any crushed stingers into this one, properly removed stingers here, and the billywigs in that one. Keep going."

Harry began his work and Severus returned to his desk, returning to his journal.

"And Potter," Severus called to the boy.

Harry looked over his shoulder at him.

"You can tell your friends that if they ever direct their wand at a teacher again, they will be serving several detentions if they are not expelled."

"Yes, sir."

With that, Severus allowed the boy to work quietly. He occasionally looked up at Harry to check on his progress. After the forty minutes were up, Severus stood and studied Harry's work with a critical eye, the boy next to him fidgeting all the while. The original barrel of billywigs was almost empty. The one for crushed stingers was as full as the one for properly removed stingers. Not perfect, hardly great, but it would do, Severus decided.

"Very well," Severus looked down at Harry. "I hope you have learned your lesson."

"Didn't I learn my lesson last night?" Harry mumbled.

Severus frowned down at Harry. He may have said those same words last night, but a simple "yes, sir" would have sufficed from the boy.

"Your insolence will not be tolerated unless you'd like to spend another detention here tomorrow. I'll have you fillet fish all night."

Harry grimaced at the idea, his face scrunching up.

"Sorry, sir. I've learned my lesson."

"Good. Head back to your tower. Straight there, it's near curfew. I do not want a reapeat of last night and I'm sure you don't either."

"No, sir. I'll head straight to the common room."

Harry turned for the door and just as he opened it, he turned back around.

"Thanks again, Professor. For saving me."

Severus inclined his head. "Go to your tower before the bell rings for curfew."

Harry quickly left the room while Severus put away the billywigs and stingers. He didn't even have fish to fillet at the moment. He really needed to think his threats through. At least now he could use the smacking as a legitimate threat. He was surprised that Harry bothered with thanking him - twice, too. It was too much in Severus's opinion.

This would be an interesting year, Severus couldn't help but think.

Chapter Text

Severus stirred in aconite in his healing potion, his mind wandering in thoughts. He had several essays to finish grading, a class on veritaserum to teach first thing the next morning, and more potions to brew to stock not only his lab but the hospital wing as well. Why did he keep this job? Ah, yes, he needed it. He owed it to Albus and to the war. The Dark Lord may be dead to everyone else, but Severus had a feeling that that man would find a way back. And when he did, Severus would be needed to play his role.

Distracted by his thoughts, Severus absently added a pinch of rosemary to the potion, belatedly realizing he added just a pinch too much. It would not ruin the potion – the little extra rosemary would actually increase its potency – however, the potion did bubble aggressively for a few seconds, causing it to splatter on Severus's hand. Any unfinished product was dangerous and this one was no exception. It fizzled on his hand, eating away at his flesh.

Severus hissed, snatching a hand towel and covering his hand. It still hurt when the fizzling stopped. He pulled the towel away and studied the burns on his hand. Nothing a little burn salve wouldn't cure.

Severus searched his stock for the salve, but he could not find any. He was out of that particular potion. Damn it, then that meant . . .

He groaned as he realized he would have to see Poppy for the salve. And she wasn't just going to give him the potion. No, she would want to check his hand and examine him for any more injuries.

Just wonderful.

At least that gave him the opportunity to inquire about Harry's visit – if he had followed his orders and actually went to the infirmary. If Poppy told him she had not seen Harry at all, then Severus would hunt that boy down and drag him to her himself.

Severus set a stasis charm on his potion and left his quarters to see Poppy.

"Severus!" Poppy greeted. "What brings you here?"

"Poppy, I just came for a burn salve, if you could hand . . ."

"A burn!" Poppy pushed Severus to a bed and sat him down. Severus groaned, glad that the infirmary was empty most weekends. "Let me see, let me see. What did you do? A potion accident, perhaps? Splashes from an unfinished concoction can cause severe internal damage you may not see – something a burn salve wouldn't heal. You wouldn't want that – just look at your hand. I'll just perform a quick diagnosis spell and . . ."

"Really?" Severus lifted an eyebrow. "Not an amputation?" 

"Don't give me that," Poppy said, summoning the salve in question and handing it to Severus. She watched as the man applied it himself. "Potter came by earlier this morning. He told me that you told him to have his eyes examined. What made you realize he didn't have the right prescriptions?"

"Besides his atrocious handwriting and inability to follow the directions I put up for the class? That boy can hardly see a wall three feet in front of him."

"Are you implying that he crashes into walls?"

"It wouldn't surprise me," Severus mumbled as he handed the salve back to Poppy, standing up from the bed. "Well? Can he see now?"

"Of course, he can see," Poppy huffed. "Now if I can just get his weight up, he'll be a normal, healthy boy."

"His weight?"

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed how underweight he is."

"He's small. I wouldn't say underweight."

"There's a difference between being small and being underweight. He's an eleven-year-old standing four eight. He should weigh at least six stone."

"And how much does he weigh?"

"I weighed him this morning when he came. He's 5.5 stone. But that's only because I've been sneaking a nutrient potion in his pumpkin juice. He refused it when I recommended it to him his first day here."

"A picky eater, hmm?"

Of course, the brat would be a picky eater. He probably grew up with free reign of whatever he wanted to eat. He probably avoided his vegetables like a mouse avoided the springer on a mouse trap. Spoiled, insolent brat.

"From what I've seen in the Great Hall, he's far from it. He eats his vegetables and fruits and he eats prettily heartily. He was more embarrassed that I would even suggest a nutrient potion. I hesitated to give him the potion after watching him eat during the start-of-term feast; he did eat so well. I figured a couple doses once a week wouldn't hurt. I was right. He's putting good weight on. He's a self-conscious boy. Timid around adults, I've noticed."

"Humph, not around me."

"Really? Well, you are definitely not easy to get along with. Though, he did tell me to make sure I told you that he was here this morning. He kept telling me over and over to "tell Professor Snape that I came." To me, that sounds like timidity."

"And what reason does he have to be shy? He's the savior of the wizarding world," Severus sneered.

"He's just a boy, Severus. And I think there's more to him than he lets any of us know."

Severus left the infirmary with Poppy's words repeating in his head. There was nothing Harry had to hide – was there? But of course, there wasn't. It wasn't like Harry was a Slytherin good at keeping secrets or anything. But Harry being underweight still bugged him. If the boy wasn't picky, then what reason did he have for being underweight? Could it be that . . . perhaps the boy was picky at home? Putting on a show? Or was there more to his home life that Severus may have overlooked. It couldn't be that the boy was underfed? Starved? Neglected?

What was he thinking? Of course, the Golden Boy wasn't neglected – what an outrageous idea! He was pampered by his muggle relatives. His behavior thus far in the year proved how spoiled the brat was. Abused? Inconceivable.

Severus headed for his quarters. Contrary to popular belief, stasis charms did not last for long, depending on the strength of the spell. His usually could keep for a half hour, but he wouldn't take any risks. As he neared his office, which had a shortcut to his quarters, he was surprised to see Harry sitting outside the door, leaned up against the wall. The boy stood to his feet as Severus paused in front of him.

"Good morning, sir," Harry greeted.

"By now, I believe the correct term of address is good afternoon, sir," said Severus with a frown.

"Right, sorry, good afternoon, sir," Harry said.

"Why are you here?"

"I just wanted to let you know that I did see Madam Pomfrey."

"So you have. Lucky you, I just finished speaking with her. She confirmed that you had gone to her for an eye exam."

"Yes, sir. She fixed the lenses of my glasses. I can see much better now!" Harry smiled.

"And?"

"Well if it's . . . nothing, sir. I'll get it done."

Severus inclined his head. "Is that all?"

"Umm . . . I think so. I just wanted to make sure you knew I had gone to Madam Pomfrey. I wasn't sure when you would go see her to ask, but I thought maybe I could just tell you and save you the trip, but I guess it wasn't necessary."

"As if I would take your word for it."

"Oh," Harry said, looking at his feet once more. "I guess . . . I just thought . . ."

"Whatever you thought, I'm sure made some logical sense in your eleven-year-old brain. But even if I had not gone to see Madam Pomfrey yet, I still would, despite you telling me what you've done. Now, are you quite finished wasting my time?"

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

Harry turned to leave.

"Wait," instructed Severus.

Harry swung on his feet and stared up at Severus expectantly. Severus was quiet for a moment, simply staring at Harry with an impassive face. Harry squirmed slightly as he waited for Severus to speak.

Severus tilted his head slightly at Harry, his eyes unfocused as he lost himself in his thoughts.

They were fighting again.

Severus covered his ears as he huddled in his corner, waiting for his parents' yelling to die down. Almost every night they would find something to argue over. Something to fight about. It was always scary; he never knew when the hitting would start. His father, Tobias Snape, could become very physical and the marks he left on his mother, Eileen . . . the marks he left on Severus.

The small boy, eight years old, absently traced a large bruise on his arm as a loud smack sounded through the house. He earned that bruise when he had been too slow in moving out of Tobias's way and the man had grabbed him and tossed him aside. The bruise was just starting to fade, but it still hurt to touch it. The yelling had stopped. Severus waited an extra few minutes. He could never be sure if the fighting was definitely over.

A door slammed shut. Someone left the house. Another door slammed closed. His father's office door.

Severus crawled out of his corner and tiptoed to the kitchen. His parents were definitely out of sight. His mother must have gone out to London again, apparating to Diagon Alley where she worked long hours at the apothecary. His father always retreated to his study after fights, with a couple beers and the paper to read. But that meant his mother would not be making dinner and his father would not give him money to run to the store.

But he was used to this.

Severus sighed as his stomach growled angrily. This would be the fourth night his mother had not made dinner. And the third morning he had gone without a breakfast. Luckily, he went to a muggle school and lunch was served. But the fridge at home . . .

Severus opened the fridge. Like the last few nights, it was nearly empty. A glass bottle of milk, some cheese, and random condiments with no use. And several packs of beer. The pantry was no better. A moldy loaf of bread, peanut butter, and an old box of cereal.

Perhaps he could use that milk and cereal. He should save it for the morning so he wasn't starving during morning classes at school. Severus sighed and closed the pantry, ignoring his growling stomach. He would save the food for the next day, where it would better serve him. At least he would get lunch one last time before the weekend . . .

"Sir?"

Severus blinked and his eyes focused on Harry. The boy was giving him an odd look. Severus mentally shook away the reverie and frowned at Harry.

"Madam Pomfrey informed me that you are underweight, bordering on malnourishment," Severus finally said. Why was he bringing this up? Curiosity, he decided. He was just curious. "Why is that?"

"Why am I underweight?"

"That was my question, yes," Severus rolled his eyes.

"Why do you care?"

Severus frowned at Harry. "It was a simple question, Potter. Just answer it."

Harry frowned back but then sighed and shrugged his shoulders, staring down at his feet.

"I guess . . . I just don't eat a lot."

"A poor excuse for an answer. Why are you really so scrawny? You are not a picky eater, are you?"

"No, sir. And I'm not scrawny."

Severus lifted an eyebrow expectantly.

"I'm . . . I'm just small for my age and all. That's what Madam Pomfrey said. And I . . . I don't eat a lot of food at every meal and . . . I get full quickly because I'm not used to eating so much and the food here is really rich and . . ."

"That," Severus raised a hand to stop the boy, "will do for an answer."

Harry fell silent immediately and gave a quick nod.

"You are dismissed."

"Yes, sir."

Harry turned away and Severus entered his office. He leaned against the door for a moment, thinking about what the boy had said. There was hesitation to answer his question, but the boy did supply a reasonable answer. But what did it mean? Why would the boy not be used to eating so much rich food? He was probably served all the best food the UK could offer. He thought back to what Madam Pomfrey had said.

There more to him than he lets anyone know.

Could it be possible that . . . no, how imprudent to think such a thing could be happening. The brat was alive and healthy – well, healthy was debatable, but alive. That was all that mattered. There was no abuse. There couldn't be.

Potter – the spoiled prince, hero of the wizarding world, the Boy-Who-Lived – was not an abused child. Just spoiled enough to avoid eating the healthy foods.

Severus used the door that took him to his quarters. He realized he had been gone much later than he intended to be. Damn flashback. The stasis charm had worn off and the potion had bubbled over in a mess all over the table and the potion had hardened on the inside and outside of the cauldron. The cauldron would have to soak in a strong cleaner for the night before being washed. More work.

Severus sighed. He just had to let his past get the best of him. He couldn't honestly be comparing his own story to Harry's. They were nothing alike. He had lived a horrible childhood. Harry was spoiled. The weight could not be attributed to neglect. Nor could the nonprescription glasses. It was not illegal to refuse an eye exam.

Unless the boy was lying. But what reason would the boy have to lie? Although . . .

No! Severus shook all his thoughts away. Harry was not an abused child.

He was not in denial. He was just reasoning.

Chapter Text

It had been a long, busy school week and Severus had seen little of Harry Potter since their last meet outside his office. Which he didn't mind at all; he could go even longer without having to see the Potter brat. It had been nice not having to concern himself with the boy or anyone for that matter, and be able to sit back at the end of a long teaching day and partake in a nightcap or two. But Friday rolled around and he had to teach the first year Gryffindor and Slytherin potions class. Wonderful.

He would have them work on the forgetfulness potion as practice for their final. Hopefully they would remember to brew it after all that time. It would test not only their memory and brewing skills, but also how well they studied the material they learned throughout the year. Despite feeling that all they needed to do was study enough for one test and forget the information, the students will quickly learn to absorb and retain as much as they could throughout the year.

Severus ignored the first years as they entered the classroom. He focused on finishing up his grading for his fifth year Monday class. Once the bell rang, he stood, glancing around the room to see who wasn't there (it was easier than taking roll call once he memorized all the students) and then began his lesson.

"I will collect your homework now. Please have them out on your desk."

Once everyone had shuffled through their bags and parchment was lying on everyone's desks, Severus summoned the papers to his desk. It looked as though everyone completed the homework. Good, then they should all be able to answer his questions.

"Today you will be brewing the Forgetfulness Potion," Severus flicked his wand at the board, which began writing out the instructions. "Can anyone tell me what a Forgetfulness Potion is for?"

The Granger girl's hand shot up into the air. No one else raised their hands. Of course, Severus sneered in his mind.

"Err," Neville began, "to cause memory loss?"

"Broadly, yes, but can someone tell me what the potion might be used for exactly?"

Hermione waved her hand even more, calling to Severus, "Sir?"

Severus sighed. Clearly the homework was pointless. He might as well indulge the girl before she exploded in her seat. Not that she needed to answer but perhaps the class might learn better from a fellow student. "Miss Granger?"

The young girl cleared her throat, "The Forgetfulness Potion was originally invented by wizard spies during the Global Wizarding War as a way to keep information from their enemies without resorting to a memory charm or suicide. It is now more commonly used as medical treatment to forget traumatic events and treat anxiety disorders, though multiple doses are not recommended because excess potion in the body can make organs forget how to function. It may also be used by the Obliviator Headquarters on muggles who have witnessed a magical event that cannot be explained through any muggle means. It is favorable to the memory charm as that can have disastrous results."

And this is exactly why he never let her answer. Besides the fact that he knew the girl would know all the answers. Severus gritted his teeth as the know-it-all finally stopped talking. What was wrong with a simple one-sentence answer?

"We could have done without the history lesson, Miss Granger. But I do hope that your classmates wisely wrote down every word you said for future reference."

That got everyone in the classroom scrambling for parchment and quills to quickly scribble down what they remembered from Hermione's speech, if they had been paying attention at all. Severus gave them a minute of writing before continuing.

"Now, can someone name the three key ingredients of the Forgetfulness Potion?"

Hermione's hand was back in the air, but Severus really wasn't in the mood for any background information on the ingredients. "Weasley?" he glared at the redhead.

"Me? Uhh, the three key ingredients are . . . uhh," Ron looked at Hermione, who rolled her eyes at him and waved her hand higher in the air. "I don't know, sir."

"How disappointing," Severus sneered. "It was in your homework. Or did you simply copy off Granger's?"

Ron's face turned as red as his hair.

"Mr. Potter, what are the three key ingredients of the Forgetfulness Potion?"

"Umm, mistletoe berries and err . . ." Harry gulped as he tried to remember what the key ingredients were. Severus frowned but waited to see if the boy would remember completely. Potions had after all been one of Lily's favorite classes, though that didn't mean Harry would favor the class at all – or be anywhere half as descent.

"Very well, Mr. Malfoy," Severus inclined his head.

"Mistletoe berries, Valerian sprigs, and Lethe River Water."

"Very good. Five points to Slytherin."

Severus didn't miss the angry look Hermione sent Draco's way. He knew why – she didn't get points for answering. But she received enough points from the other professors to make up for it. Severus simply told the students a few more facts on the potion instead of asking questions then had them get to work. There were no problems encountered during the first half of brewing.

But the peace was never meant to last long.

As he helped show a couple Slytherins how to properly crush mistletoe berries using a pestle, he heard Hermione snap at someone:

"No, no! You're supposed to stir it three times clockwise before you add the Standard Ingredient! Here, let me see if I can . . . oh, no! Back up, back up!"

Severus turned around just in time to see an angrily bubbling cauldron start fizzling and splattering out of control. Hermione had managed to back everyone away from it but one boy – the ruined potion's creator. Severus sighed as the potion splattered all over Harry, who managed to raise his arms in time to cover his face. The potion ate away at the boy's sleeves.

"Ow!" Harry hissed as Severus was sure the potion had eaten through the robe and gotten on Harry's skin. Harry reached to touch his sleeves.

"Potter, no," Severus snapped stepping towards the boy and raising a hand to catch Harry's wrist and stop him from touching any part of the potion.

However, as he did that, Harry backed up a step and raised his arms protectively over his head, flinching and closing his eyes for a second. He quickly seemed aware of what he was doing and opened his eyes and relaxed his arms. Severus just stared at him, narrowing his eyes. Harry looked down and blushed.

"What did you think I was going to do, Potter?"

Harry's cheeks reddened more and he shrugged his shoulder, saying, "I don't know."

Severus frowned. The boy had quick reflexes – he'd give him that. But it was oddly . . . concerning. As if Harry had been expecting to be slapped across the face or even beat down on. But what would make him draw to that conclusion? He had made a mess of himself and from what he heard Hermione say, it had been a mistake. He would have to have Harry redo the potion so that he had some chance of passing come finals but . . .

"Potter's afraid of Professor Snape!"

Here we go, Severus thought and he sighed and crossed his arms, staring at Harry as Draco Malfoy began his childish behavior. Well, Draco was still technically a child, but a bully of one at that. The other Slytherins snickered and joined in.

"What a coward!"

"Does the scary Potions Master frighten you, Potty?"

"Aww, does Potter have a boo-boo?" Draco smirked. "Does he need his mummy to kiss it for him? Oh – oops! My bad."

"That'll do, Mr. Malfoy, before I take your tongue for a tongue numbing potion," Severus growled. Harry looked as though his face might burn off. "Potter, to my office."

Severus waited until Harry had left the classroom. He'd have to be quick with his instructions –knowing how well Harry was at following directions. He didn't want Harry to take advantage of his absence and leave the dungeons.

"The rest of you, finish your potions. Make sure you correctly label the vials with your last name then first, the type of potion, and today's date. Do not leave this room until I return to dismiss you."

Severus walked down the hall to his office where Harry was standing outside the door.

"Sorry I didn't go in," Harry immediately began. "It was locked and I couldn't . . ."

"I am well aware," Severus said, grabbing the handle and opening it. The door was spelled to know his touch. "In."

Harry scurried in and Severus closed the door behind them.

"Take off your robe and let's see your arm," Severus commanded, moving to a shelf and scanning the vials of potions he had.

"Shouldn't I go see Madam Pomfrey?" Harry questioned, hesitating to take off his robe.

"I assure you I'm about to do everything she would do, minus the full body physical. Besides, if I send you to her, you probably wouldn't even go see her."

"You don't know that."

"Then enlighten me, Potter. If I sent you to her this minute, would you go see her?"

". . . yes."

"You hesitated. You would not. And for what reason? Avoid being healed so you can keep your battle scars? To do everything yourself back at your dorm?"

Harry shrugged, softly saying, "Sometimes it's just easier to do things myself."

Severus rolled his eyes with a snort as he found the potion he was looking for. "Like healing yourself?" he asked.

"I've done it before."

The innocent statement caused Severus to inhale sharply as he found himself thrown into another flashback.

Ten-year-old Severus picked up the hose and sprayed it down his back, hissing as the freezing water splashed at the open lacerations. It was a cold October, and while he had the appropriate clothing (his mother provided when she could or remembered), he had to take his warm sweater and jacket off to clean his back. He made sure to stay out of sight, behind the restroom building at the park. As long as no other parents or kids ran behind the restrooms, he should be fine.

Severus turned the knob over to the warm side and turned up the water pressure. The water remained freezing, however, and he shivered as the fall wind blew harshly around him. He turned the hose off and picked up one of the vials he had snatched from his mother's supply closet.

His father had fallen into one of his moods again, taking out his anger from being fired at work out on his son. It was always Severus's fault – his father being fired, his father being poor, his father being drunk out of his mind. Severus was just a freak in Tobias's eyes and a burden. He wasn't wanted. Most of the time, Tobias acted like Severus didn't even exist. But when a day goes wrong for the man, the belt comes out and the hunt for his son's whereabouts is on.

Severus had thought he had gotten rather good at predicating when his father's mood would change, but he couldn't predict everything that would happen in Tobias's life. He just had to be sure he was either out of the house or somewhere safe and hidden. Though doing so only put off when his father would lash out.

And his mother never did a thing to interfere and put an end to the beatings. She would walk away until it was over or remind him once again why it is important to stay on Tobias's good side. She would sometimes help him bathe and clean any wounds, but most of the time, she left the house completely. Severus remembered she had tried to defend him once when he was really little. That had ended poorly for both of them.

It didn't matter. Severus could take care of himself now. He didn't need her help.

Severus opened the vial and dumped it down his back. He could feel the potion drip down and barely touch the wounds. He tried to reach back and rub the potion where it need to go, but it was always the tricky part.

"Severus!"

Severus froze, his breath catching in his throat. He tried to keep as still and as quiet as he could.

"Sev! I know you're here! I saw you walk this way. Are you behind there again?"

"Go away, Lily," Severus snapped.

"You're hurt," Lily said, joining him behind the building. "Was it your dad again?"

"None of your business. Just leave me alone. I'm trying to do something."

"You need help," Lily insisted, trying to get behind Severus to see his back but he kept turning away. "You can't rub the potion in by yourself. Let me help you!"

"I can take care of myself. I've done it before. Stop it! Go find your sister or something."

"Will you stop it, Severus Snape!" Lily stomped her foot. "Let me help you or I'm telling Mum!"

Severus blanched. He definitely didn't want Mrs. Evans to see him like this. How embarrassing.

"Fine!" Severus allowed Lily to move around him. "You know, it's easier if I just do it myself."

"Sometimes you need someone to help," Lily said, wincing at the sight of her friend's back. She gently began rubbing the potion in on the wounds, being careful not to put too much pressure on them. "And these look like they hurt. Was it that bad again? You should tell someone . . ."

"NO!" Severus nearly shouted. He felt Lily yank her hands back, startled. He sighed. "Sorry, it just wouldn't do any good. Trust me on that, okay?"

"Okay," Lily continued rubbing the potion in, noticing how much Severus was shivering. She smiled. "Hey, my mum's making a thick pea and ham soup for dinner tonight. It's so good and it'll warm you right up! You should come join us. Mum and Dad won't mind. They love company."

Severus smiled. "Sounds good."

"Sir?" Severus blinked and his eyes focused on Harry once more. "Sorry, you were doing it again. Kind of just staring off into . . . umm, do you do that a lot?"

"It seems to be becoming a tendency, doesn't it?" Severus said. "Take off your robe. Let's have a look at your arms."

Harry slowly pulled off his robe, wincing as the sleeves slid along his arms. Severus waited patiently while Harry set the robe on the desk and presented his arms. The potion had soaked through the robe and ate away at the boy's skin, leaving second degree burns. Both arms were red and swollen and blisters were forming. Severus opened the vial and gently poured a generous amount on Harry's right arm first, then gently rubbed the potion in, remembering how gentle Lily had been.

It was rather awkward, the silence between them. Severus glanced at Harry, but the boy avoided eye contact, just watched what he was doing with the potion. Severus cleared his throat.

"If you had been further along in the process and the potion had spilled on you, you would be suffering some memory damage as well."

Harry's head snapped up and his eyes widened.

"Do you have a potion for that?" Harry asked.

Severus snorted. Of course, the boy would ask such a question.

"No, but Madam Pomfrey would know how to help you," Severus answered, moving on to Harry's other arm. "It is then that I would have more logical reason to send you to her. Of course, I'd probably walk you there myself. You might not even remember where the hospital wing is. Be glad it is easier to cure than being hit by a memory charm. Potions are easy to wipe out of the body, spells and charms are not."

Harry watched amazed as the burns on his arm healed. He watched Severus with his other arm.

"If the potion is that dangerous, though, why are we brewing it?"

"Because it is generally not dangerous to brew. It's rather hard to really cause any disaster with this particular potion and it is quick and easy to complete. But, of course, you would find a way to disprove that, wouldn't you?"

"I didn't mean to mess it up," Harry insisted, watching as the burns healed over on his other arm. Severus put away the potion. "I was doing my best. Sometimes I skip over an instruction – I don't mean to – I just . . ."

"Accidents happen, Potter," Severus said. "But you will have to redo the potion. I'll give you a choice: come back tonight and finish it or tomorrow evening and finish it."

"Tonight, sir. I just want to get it done and over with."

"Is that so? Very well, come back in something other than your nice robes. Perhaps a spill on something old will save me from having to repair them."

Severus flicked his wand at Harry's robe, fixing the sleeves.

"Thanks, sir," Harry smiled, pulling his robe back on.

"One more thing," Severus said. "Your reaction in the classroom. You have quite the reflexes."

"Umm . . . thanks?"

"It wasn't really a compliment. I want to know what you thought I was going to do. And don't give me an 'I don't know.'"

"Why does it matter?" Harry said, his face burning red. "I didn't really think at all. You just moved quickly – it startled me."

"Did it?"

"Yeah. Anyone would react like that."

Severus suddenly reached out and snapped his fingers inches in front of Harry's face. Harry jumped and raised his hands slightly near his face as if he planned to cover his face. He caught himself in time and lowered his hands, willing his body to be less tense. He tried not to blush.

"What was that for?"

"It was a test," Severus explained. "A normal reaction would be to blink and perhaps pull your head back a bit. You jumped and tried to protect yourself. Care to explain?"

"There's nothing to explain," Harry snapped. "I scare easily."

"Didn't seem that way when you faced that mountain troll."

"So what?"

"Watch yourself," Severus warned. He sighed. He wasn't really getting anywhere with the boy. If he kept pushing, the child might end up throwing a tantrum in his office. No need to have any broken values and have to carry out a punishment. Besides, he had a class to get back to. "I'll see you tonight at seven. And do not be late. Head back to class."

Harry quickly slipped out of the office.

Severus rubbed at his face. Maybe the boy did scare easily. He couldn't be so quick to jump to conclusions. But the way the boy reacted earlier had just reminded him so much of – what was he saying? Severus shook the thoughts away and headed back to the classroom to dismiss the class.

Later that evening, Harry arrived on time (thankfully) to the potions classroom with his robe on but Severus figured he'd take it off once he began. Severus had set up all the ingredients he would need and pulled down a cauldron. He wrote instructions on a separate parchment and placed it near the cauldron.

"Since you tend to make the mistake of skipping instructions," Severus told Harry as the boy stood in front of the cauldron, "I would like you to cross off each action as you perform it. You may want to start copying the instructions down in class as well."

"Yes, sir."

"Take off your robe and begin."

Harry shrugged out of his robe and Severus frowned at what the boy was wearing. Yes, he had told Harry to have something old on but not something decrepit. The clothes were practically tatters, the shirt swallowing the boy and it was short sleeved – it was November for crying out loud. It was cold in the dungeons. At least the pants were long, but they were in no better shape. Besides, it appeared as if Harry had to wrap a belt around him twice to keep them up.

"What are you wearing?" Severus snapped.

Harry looked down at what he was wearing and blushed. "You said to wear something old, sir. These are just the oldest things I have so I wore them. They can get ruined for all I care."

"When I said old, I would think you'd remember weather appropriate as well."

"I'm okay." The boy couldn't lie any worse! He was shivering.

"You'll catch your death down here."

"Well, you wanted me to wear something old."

"Old doesn't usually include falling off, Potter. And those clothes don't even look your size."

"So what? They're all I have!" Harry snapped. Then he seemed to realize his mistake. "I mean, all I have with me . . . right now, anyway."

"These are the only clothes you have from home with you?"

"Well, I have a nicer shirt and all, but I bought those for school. I really didn't think ahead when I went shopping with Hagrid to buy long sleeved shirts and pants for winter."

"You shouldn't have had to buy them. You could have brought clothes from home."

"Well, I don't really have . . . I mean, I forgot to."

"Careless," Severus snaps. He summoned another plain parchment and a quill and handed them to Harry. "Here. Write a letter to your relatives and ask to have some weather appropriate clothes sent up."

Harry's face blanched. "No," the child said.

"Excuse me?"

"I said no. I won't write a letter. I . . . I can't. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon don't really . . . they don't like owls or stuff like that. Owls . . . freak them out and all and . . ."

"They'll have to get over it," Severus said. "You need your winter attire. It is not healthy to be without it."

"No, sir, you don't understand! They really hate owls! They won't like one having to go to them and they'll be mad at me and . . . they probably wouldn't send anything anyway."

"And why wouldn't they," Severus was trying hard not to yell at the boy's foolishness. Harry did seem really desperate to not have a letter sent out. He was on the edge of a panic attack really.

Harry hesitated to answer, then said, "To teach me a lesson for forgetting."

It was a lie. Plain as day. The Golden Boy was lying to a professor – worthy of a detention, loss of points, something! And yet, Severus found that he didn't want to do anything. He said nothing. He was actually surprised the boy felt the need to lie – and to what gain? What did he have to hide? This little argument they were having was getting them nowhere. Harry clearly didn't want a letter sent home. Severus wanted to know why – more than anything, it was what was bugging him the most. Harry seemed fearful of the very idea.

And all the little things the boy had tried to avoid saying. Something was up. And he didn't like it one bit.

"Fine," Severus banished the parchment and ink. "Freeze then. Work on your potion. I want it completed before eight thirty."

Harry nodded and started working, remembering to cross off the actions as he completed them. It did seem to help the boy focus on what he was doing and flow better through the process. Once Harry had completed the potion and labeled it correctly, Severus sent him back to his tower.

Severus contemplated the situation. The way Harry reacted to adults raising hands towards him, the clothing situation, how small he was, his eating habits, his glasses – something wasn't right.

And what better way to solve a situation than to do it yourself?

Severus found a clean parchment and picked up his quill and began writing.

Dear Aunt Petunia and Uncle (What had the boy called the man? Ah, yes) Uncle Vernon,

A professor told me that my clothing is not weather appropriate and told me to write a letter home asking for my winter clothing. Can you please send up any remaining clothes I have? Thanks!

Harry Potter

It sounded realistic enough. Not too long and dragging anything out and not too short and demanding.

Severus searched for Harry's homework from earlier. He used a spell to turn his handwriting into Harry's by transfiguring the shape and look of his letters into that of Harry's letters from the homework. He left the dungeons and headed to the owlery. He whistled for his owl when he arrived. A tawny owl, named Castiel, flew down to him.

"Cas, take this to the Dursley's, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. Return anything they give you to me. Go."

Severus watched as Castiel flew into the night. The owl would probably arrive there by morning. Tomorrow would be a revealing day for one Harry Potter.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Severus worked on grading the potions Friday's first year class had created. They were not half bad, really; some a little thick in consistency, but they were all passable. Even Harry's Forgetfulness potion was near perfect, just a hardly noticeable shade off. Severus's mind strayed to the strange behavior Harry had displayed during the spill in class. It just seemed too familiar . . .

But really, his mind was just jumping to the wrong conclusions too quickly. Why would the savior of the wizarding world be anything but the spoiled, adored, praised brat that he was?

Severus decided to take a break from his grading and head to the owlery. Perhaps his owl, Castiel, had returned. The problem with spending the majority of his time in the dungeons meant that his owl couldn't come to him with any deliveries. Which was fine, he could just seek the owl out when he felt the need to.

Entering the owlery, Castiel hooted and flew down to his master, holding out the muggle envelope grasped in his claws. Severus frowned and looked up to where the owl had been perched. Was this honestly it? No package, no box, not even a jumper? Maybe there was money inside the envelope. How spoiled the boy was to be allowed to just go but more clothes to add to his fancy wardrobe. Severus glared at the envelope and accepted it from Castiel, who stayed near just in case and preened.

Severus opened the envelope and looked for muggle money or even a check before pulling out the folded letter.

Harry,

Tell your professor to sod off and do not send your freaky pests to this house again! How dare you demand anything from us, after everything we've done for you! If you need clothes, here is some money to buy your own. Do not bother us this year again.

Aunt Petunia

Severus stared at what was taped to the bottom of the letter – a twenty pence piece.

What on earth could anyone but with that? A thread from a mitten? What was this – a joke? Well, it wasn't a very funny one.

"Severus," Minerva greeted as Severus returned to the main hall of the castle. "I'm surprised you've emerged from the dungeons. What is that? Since when do you get letters? Who's it from?"

Severus hid the letter against him as Minerva tried to peer over his shoulder at it.

"Do you mind, Minerva?"

"I'm just curious," Minerva shrugged carelessly, walking in step with Severus. "So, who's it from? Friendly neighbor? Long lost relative? Secret lover?"

Severus rolled his eyes while Minerva just smirked.

"Or better yet, a secret admirer?"

"No, Minerva. Get those impractical thoughts out of your head. It's just business."

"If it's just business, why can't I look at it?"

"Because it's none of your business," Severus snapped.

"Fine, fine," Minerva said shaking her head. "But if it is a secret admirer, I'll find out sooner or later."

Severus was glad when Minerva disappeared from sight. He looked back at the letter, pulling off the pence tapped on. It was as if the boy was worth no more than that pence to those people. Severus had known Petunia when he was younger. She was always berating Lily and Lily's magical abilities. Petunia had been a horrid child. He remembered when he first met her . . .

"Petunia!" A little red-haired girl called to another girl. "Watch this!"

Eight-year-old Severus watched as the pretty redhead picked a flower and then made it hover in the air. It was a rather well controlled display of magic at her age. The other girl, Petunia it must be, frowned at her.

"You're a freak!" Petunia snapped, pushing the redhead, nearly knocking her to the ground. "I'm telling Mum and Dad and everyone about what a freaky girl you are!"

The redhead's green eyes watered as she backed away from Petunia. Severus glared at that Petunia girl before standing up from his place by a park tree and approached the two girls.

"She's not a freak," Severus said. He picked a flower himself and sent it flying to the teary-eyed redhead. "She's just gifted."

The redheaded girl gently caught the little flower and smiled at Severus.

Petunia had at first stared wide-eyed at Severus before glaring at him, too.

"Great, now there's two freaky kids in this neighborhood! You're like an infestation spreading. I'm telling Mum I want to move!"

Petunia turned and ran out of the park. Severus smirked and approached the redhead.

"Thank you," the girl smiled. "You didn't have to do that. She's a nice sister when she wants to be."

"I'm glad she's not my sister," Severus commented. "I'm Severus by the way."

"Lily," the redhead smiled.

Severus just stared into her green eyes. He didn't think eyes could be so green, but he knew he had a new favorite color now.

Severus shook his head, snapping out of his reverie. Damn, but he seemed to be doing that more and more lately. And all over this stupid case with Harry Potter. Severus glared at the letter as he entered his office and then his quarters. Clearly, Petunia never grew up.

Damn it! How could this be happening? Harry was supposed to be a spoiled prince! And while that was certainly no better child rearing, Severus would have preferred it to this potential – no, not potential – this obvious case of neglect and emotional abuse. And where there was that much abuse, physical abuse tended to be nearby. That would explain Harry's reactions to simple things.

Severus wanted nothing more than to deny it. He wanted nothing more than to forget he had ever gotten involved in Harry's life. Nothing more than to hold on to those fantasies of a spoiled brat being slaved upon by his overindulging relatives. He just had to write that letter.

In all honesty, he had been hoping to just help the boy get some of his winter clothes. Severus closed his eyes and tried to remember the details of last night . . .

"I said no. I won't write a letter. I . . . I can't. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon don't really . . . they don't like owls or stuff like that. Owls . . . freak them out and all and . . ."

"They'll have to get over it," Severus said. "You need your winter attire. It is not healthy to be without it."

"No, sir, you don't understand! They really hate owls! They won't like one having to go to them and they'll be mad at me and . . . they probably wouldn't send anything anyway."

"And why wouldn't they," Severus was trying hard not to yell at the boy's foolishness. Harry did seem really desperate to not have a letter sent out. He was on the edge of a panic attack really.

Harry hesitated to answer, then said, "To teach me a lesson for forgetting."

How could he have been so blind?

All the details, the hints, the evidence – it was all there. Why would anyone hate owls? Owls were as common as any other bird that flew through the sky. But Severus could guess why Petunia would hate owls – they had a connection to the wizarding world. Of course, it all made so much sense. And to think that all this time he had believe Petunia had grown up and matured a little. How wrong he was.

Frustrated, Severus ripped up the letter and through it into the fireplace, wordlessly igniting a flame as he did so. He stared at the pence in his hand angrily before he threw it across the room. He'd find it later if the house elves didn't dispose of it. He hoped they did or he might blast it into the earth, taking out a portion of the dungeons with it.

Severus made a quick decision. He grabbed a cloak and left the castle. He walked past the apparition wards and continued his way to Hogsmeade. He knew what he had to do.

Later that evening, Severus finally returned to Hogwarts. He hated shopping – especially when he didn't even know the boy's size. He had managed to buy six jumpers, five trousers, a winter cloak, a thick winter robe, trainers, boots, gloves, woolen socks, a scarf and a hat. These should last the boy for winter. For now.

He managed to use a packing spell to fit everything in a single package and then used a spell to make the package feather light. He wrote a quick note for the package.

Since you are too stubborn to write home and ask for your clothes, I have personally seen to it that you have appropriate winter wear so you do not catch hypothermia. Do not ruin these as I will not be so gracious again. – SS

Severus went to the owlery and called to his owl, handing the package to him to deliver.

"Take this to Harry Potter," Severus demanded. "Make it quick."

After Castiel flew away, Severus decided he could use a drink before heading to his quarters. He had already missed dinner, but what was one missed meal? Severus arrived at the teachers' common area and, ignoring everyone else inside, he just went directly to the bar area and pulled out a beer. Sitting at the high countertop, Severus sipped at the beer slowly.

What a revealing day.

And he hated every second of it. At least the other professors knew to just leave him be.

After a couple minutes, Minerva entered the common room. She looked at Severus and smiled.

"Drop it, Minerva."

"Oh, come on," Minerva smirked, sitting at the high-top across from Severus. "Let me in on this. I can give you advice I'm sure you'll need."

"As I said before, it was just business."

"Fine," Minerva took a sip of her wine. "You know, I just came from Gryffindor Tower. A little homesick first year girl needed some reassurance. But before I left, Harry received a package – full of brand new clothes and was he excited! He, Ron, and Hermione looked over everything – though I think Ron may have been a little jealous."

"Wonderful," Severus commented sarcastically, tapping the bar countertop once he finished with his beer. A second appeared and he took a long drink from it. 

"I wonder if that boy's relatives sent him an early gift," Minerva pondered, tapping her chin. "I had my doubts about that muggle family, but it seems I was wrong. They really have blown my mind in ways –"

Unable to hear much more praise for that atrocious family, Severus wordlessly conjured a projection of the letter from Petunia from a memory. Minerva frowned and leaned forward to read the nearly transparent hologram-like letter. Her mouth fell open and her eyes widened.

"I knew it!" Minerva snapped. "I knew it all along. I told Albus those people wouldn't care for Harry one bit! When did that come? Did Harry show that to you? Why didn't he bring it to me? I mean I am his Head of House and all –"

"I received it," Severus interrupted, cancelling the spell. "When Potter came to me for detention one night, he was not in suitable clothing. I told him to write a letter to his relatives, he refused, so I wrote it. This is what I got back in return."

"But . . ." Minerva frowned. "But he got something from someone."

"Me. He got them from me."

Minerva was silent for a moment before asking, "Why the sudden investment in Harry's life? Why did you do it?"

Severus sighed. Why had he done it? Why had he bothered to waste his money on the brat? Was it personal? Was it because he had suffered a similar situation in his own life? Severus shook his head.

"I don't know. He needed clothes and if his horrid relatives weren't going to send him any, someone had to make sure the boy survived the winter. This castle gets dreadfully cold as you well know."

"Yes, I'm aware. But why not bring the matter to me? I mean, after all, I am his –"

"Head of House, yes, you've said."

Minerva was silent again, sipping her wine.

"Well," she began. "Thank you for doing so. He's very happy, showing his clothes to his friends and smiling for once with pure joy."

"He's clearly bragging about his new, stylish clothes."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it," Minerva chastised. "He's just happy and –"

"Self-centered," Severus snapped. "Just like his father."

"Don't do it, Severus."

"Don't do what?"

"Shut down. Push people away. What you always do when you don't know how to fix a problem, especially one involving family matters similar to your own."

"I do not push people away," Severus told Minerva plainly as he finished his beer. "Simply because there is no one for me to push away."

"I wouldn't be so sure."

Severus raised a hand to tap on the countertop once more, but Minerva put her hand gently over his, stopping his action. 

"Don't you think two is enough?" 

Severus glared at Minerva before standing and leaving her at the bar. It was nearly curfew and he figured he should finish his grading. As he neared his quarters, who should be waiting outside his office but Harry Potter himself. Just wonderful – exactly who he wanted to see right now.

"What are you doing here?" Severus snapped down at the boy.

"I just wanted to thank you, sir," Harry smiled up at Severus. "For the clothes. They're really nice and I hope you didn't have to go through so much trouble. You didn't have to spend so much money on me. If you want, you can take them back to save you some –"

"I will not hear of it," Severus held up a hand to stop Harry's blabbering. "I bought you the clothes because you were too foolish to have clothes sent to you from home. You're just like your arrogant father – spoiled, selfish, and reckless about your own health. Someone has to make sure you are in good health at this school, and if you won't see to it, then that falls on a responsible adult. I could not let your negligence to care for yourself cost you hypothermia or pneumonia."

"Wait a second," Harry frowned up at Severus. "I told you, my relatives wouldn't have –"

"Nonsense! I will not listen to any more lies from you. Your relatives should know how to take proper care of you – why wouldn't they not? They have a kid of their own, you are clearly no different."

"It's not like that . . ."

"Do not interrupt me! You may believe yourself privileged because you are the Boy-Who-Lived . . ."

"I don't think that at all!"

"I am not finished! But you will not brag about the clothes I sent you and you will tell no one else about where you got them."

"I didn't even tell Ron or Hermione, I just showed them the clothes . . ."

"Interrupting again," Severus snarled. "This conversation is over. The bell will ring for curfew soon and you better be on your way because I will take points if you are still out in the halls when that bell does sound. Now go back to your tower."

Severus did not miss the tears in the boy's eyes as he slowly backed away.

"Is it so hard," the boy began, "to just say you're welcome?"

"Trust me," Severus spat out, "when it comes to you, it's impossible and undeserved."

Even with teary eyes, Harry glared at Severus before turning and running back to his tower. Severus entered his office, slamming the door behind him. He was done helping children for a long time. He couldn't handle it. He couldn't stomach it. He was a professor and that was all. With a heavy sigh, he headed for his kitchen. Would a third drink really hurt?

Chapter Text

The next morning, Severus found himself staring into the fireplace at the raging flames. It had been a very chilly morning and he decided some warmth would do nicely in his quarters. So far, it had been a very quiet Sunday morning, and Severus enjoyed the peace. He pulled out his fifth-year assignments he had collected Thursday and began grading them in his armchair. Anything to just relax after last night's events.

And yet, while grading, his thoughts strayed to Harry and the boy's terrible relatives. How had he missed it? How had everyone missed it? Surely Albus was aware of what went on in the boy's home . . . and if not, should he tell the man?

It would seem like the right thing to do, but Severus had a feeling that Harry might not appreciate his telling the headmaster of his home life. Perhaps, it would be better to encourage the boy to tell Albus himself. He should probably have Minerva do that job, seeing how he had treated the boy last night. He would be surprised if Harry dared speak to him again – in class or outside of it. It was for the better, anyway. To have the boy at a distance. Severus still had a role to play, and if he was seen showing the slightest bit of sympathy for that insolent brat, he was sure to jeopardize more than just his cover.

So then why couldn't he get Harry's situation out of his head? He really needed to focus on this essay he was trying to grade. Severus corrected some misspelled words in the paragraph he was reading, making a note on the side reminding the student to actually look at the word in the book as he spelled it. Honestly, where was the common sense in these students? After reading another decent paragraph, Severus's mind strayed back to Harry once more.

Perhaps it was because his situation had been so similar to Harry's when he was a child. Perhaps it was because their attitudes towards the abuse were similar. Or maybe it was something more. Could it be that Severus only cared simply because Harry was Lily's child?

A knock on his office door pulled Severus from his thoughts. Sighing, he stood from his chair, walked through the hidden passage to his office and opened the door.

Surprise, surprise. Just who he wanted to see – Harry Potter.

"What is it?" Severus snapped at the boy.

Harry glared back at him before thrusting a package out to Severus.

"Here!" Harry demanded. "Take them back. I don't want them."

Severus recognized the package as the clothes he had bought Harry, once again magically packaged and sealed. Severus frowned down at the boy.

"You foolish child. They are yours."

"I don't want them!"

"Quit acting like a five-year-old, Potter," Severus growled, pushing the package back against Harry's chest. "You need them, and I did not waste my money on perfectly suitable material just for you to throw them away."

"I'm not throwing them away. I'm giving them back. You can return them all and get your money back."

"I told you!" Harry all but shouted angrily. "I told you why I couldn't have clothes sent to me! And I don't need your charity!"

Severus became aware of the several onlookers in the hallway. Passing Slytherins heading to their common room stopped in their tracks at the sight of an angry Harry Potter and their Head of House. Having had enough of the attention, Severus glared down at Harry, leaning down slightly so he was more eyelevel and softly said, "Cool it, Potter. Before I take points."

"Then just take your stupid clothes back!" Harry shouted, thrusting the package at Severus.

"I said cool it."

"Take them!"

Harry was not going to calm down anytime soon. And seeing this, Severus grabbed the boy by his upper arm and pulled him into his office, slamming the door behind them, leaving the Slytherins outside bewildered by the exchange.

Inside the office, Severus pushed Harry down into the spare chair in front of his desk. He snatched the package and tossed it on his desk. He remained standing at the side of Harry's chair as he glared down at the boy.

"You better start talking and explain that disgraceful behavior before I hand out a month's worth of detentions." Severus hissed between his teeth.

"No!" Harry growled back, matching the man's glare intensity. "You explain yours!"

"What are you talking about?"

"You know what. You give me clothes but then you . . . you were . . ." Harry's eyes were welling with angry, frustrated tears. He looked away from the dark endless pits that were Severus's eyes and glared at his shoes instead. "Just take your clothes back."

"They are not mine. They are yours."

"Technically, you bought them," Harry contradicted, still glaring at his shoes, "that makes them yours."

Growing annoyed with the boy's defiance, Severus hooked his foot around the leg of Harry's chair and turned the boy, so they stared face to face. He pinned Harry with a fierce look.

Harry's face flushed and the glare he had plastered on his face melted into an anxious one. That statement seemed to sober the boy right up. Good.

"What do you want me to say?" Harry asked nervously.

"It's not what I want you to say. I want you to tell me what was running through your mind that made you think it was okay to come to my office, yell at me, and demand me to take back what I gave you."

"You were a bastard last night," Harry said honestly but with no malice. It didn't stop Severus from narrowing his eyes at the boy. "I don't understand why you would be so nice and give me clothes and then . . . then do . . . do that."

Severus groaned as tears started falling out of Harry's eyes and the boy hid behind his hands, trying to pull himself back together. One thing worse than an angry child was a crying child. Wonderful. Just what he felt like dealing with today. Severus guessed the boy had fair reasoning in his behavior. If he was being honest, he did react poorly last night to seeing the boy outside his door. But this wasn't the first time he had been so harsh with the boy. Surely the kid didn't take to heart everything he had said.

"Enough with the tears," Severus said in a softer tone.

Harry seemed to struggle to stop the flow of salt water from his eyes. He remained behind his hands as he hiccoughed and sniffled.

Honestly, Severus thought, were my actions really that upsetting?

"Look, Potter," Severus began, "the clothes are yours whether you want them or not. It isn't "charity" as you so nicely put it. I'm giving them to you because they are a necessity. I'd do it for any other student if the situation called for it."

"I'm not upset about the clothes," Harry mumbled, slowly lowering his hands to reveal his red eyes, though he stared at the floor.

Severus sighed. He knew exactly what had the boy in tears. But he wasn't about to apologize for last night. If that was what the boy wanted, he wasn't going to hear it.

"I know," Severus said, moving around the desk and sitting in the chair behind it.

Harry adjusted his chair and slowly looked up at Severus, but when the man calmly stared back, the boy sighed heavily and looked back down.

"Please," Harry whispered, "just take back the clothes."

"I will not. You will leave this office with that package. And if I have to spell it stuck to your hands, then I will."

"Watch me, Potter," the man said.

Harry just gave a defeated sigh, staring down at his shoes. He simply asked, "Where is my uniform?"

"On your bed, hopefully about to be washed by the house elves."

"The what?"

"Never mind," Severus waved his hand dismissively, not really wanting to get into that conversation with the boy. Of course, Harry would have no idea what house elves were after being raised by muggles. He probably knew what servants were . . . well, perhaps not. Severus had to remind himself that the boy's home life wasn't exactly as he had thought.

"But . . ." Harry frowned, "did you say . . . house elves? Are those like . . . I've heard of elves before, but I . . . are they . . .?"

Rolling his eyes as he realized the boy wasn't going to drop it, Severus called out, "Bakkey!"

A loud pop sounded in the room and a house elf appeared, bowing respectfully. Severus noticed Harry jump at the noise and then stare at the creature as one would some caged zoo animal.

"Yes, Master Snape?" Bakkey asked.

"Bring myself and Potter some tea, would you?"

"Of course, Master Snape."

Bakkey disappeared in another loud pop. Harry blinked before flashing Severus a confused look.

"That is a house elf?"

"He is, yes."

"Is he like . . . a slave?"

"Hmm," Severus hummed at Harry's comparison. In some sense, it was an accurate description. But in another sense, it wasn't always the case. As was the case at Hogwarts, where the elves chose to be around and work at the school. So, Severus decided on his answer. "No. He and the many others that work here choose to be here. And I can assure you, they are not to be ordered around by you or any other student."

"I wouldn't do that, sir!"

"Then I'm sure we won't have a problem."

Then, a tray appeared with a teapot, cups, sugar cubes, and biscuits. Severus lifted the lid of the teapot to release some trapped steam, then poured tea in both cups, and said, "Help yourself."

Severus added a sugar cube to his tea, ignoring Harry's suspicious look.

"Why are you giving me tea?" the boy asked.

"Well, for one, it'd be a waste not to use it all after Bakkey went through all the trouble. And two, tea is known for its calming effects, and I'm sure that is exactly what you need after your little tantrum."

"I didn't throw a tantrum!"

Severus gave the boy a pointed glare as he stirred his tea, effectively cooling Harry's temper. But Harry still didn't move for the tea.

"Honestly, Potter," Severus snapped. "I didn't make the tea, so I can assure you, it's not poisoned."

Severus raised an eyebrow at the boy and watched as Harry picked up the other teacup and hesitantly added two sugar cubes and stirred. Severus noticed Harry eye the biscuits and shoved the plate towards the boy. Harry shyly took a biscuit and nibbled on it.

"So . . ." Harry began, dipping his biscuit in the tea, "did . . . Bakkey? Did he make this?"

"Yes," Severus answered, absently stirring the tea he had yet to drink from.

Harry ate the biscuit before asking, "So, house elves . . . they do all the chores?"

"They do."

"So, is that how my bed is always made when I come back from classes?"

"Perhaps. Though I'd suggest you should really make your own bed in the morning. It's a good habit to have."

"There's no point. I'm just going to mess it up again," Harry muttered.

Severus smirked at the comment.

"Well, besides making your bed, they also clean the castle, make all the meals, and tend to the grounds, including the Quidditch Pitch."

"That's a lot of work," Harry frowned, not really liking that these creatures did so much. "Are they at least paid?"

"Of course not."

"What do you mean, of course not?" Harry glared. "That's not right!"

"They are not paid, Potter, simply because they do not wish to be."

"Oh," Harry frowned down at his tea this time, taking a quick sip. "It still doesn't seem right."

"You feel strongly on the matter. Why?"

"Well," Harry's frown deepened, "I guess maybe because I had to do all the chores and make all the meals at my relatives – no one else did anything! Well, Aunt Petunia sometimes cooked. But I had to take care of the garden too. And I was hardly given a meal for completing everything. I was given nothing!"

Harry blinked, then looked up at Severus with burning cheeks.

"Sorry," the boy said, "I'm not . . . sure why . . ."

"It's alright," Severus said, finally taking the spoon out of his tea and setting it aside. He rested his arms on the table. "You seem calmer and I'm sure after your little outburst earlier, you wanted to get that off your chest. But, while we're all being honest, care to expand on what you meant by "hardly given a meal?""

Harry sipped the tea as he eyed the plate of biscuits, trying to resist seeming rude and taking more. Severus's eyes followed the boy's gaze.

"Feel free to take another biscuit, Potter. In fact, take them all. I certainly won't eat them."

"Err, thanks, sir. I'm sure Ron will like that. But when I'm at my relatives, I have to cook all the meals, but I'm not allowed to eat at every single one. I'm lucky if my aunt and uncle let me have leftovers. When I was younger, I'd make the meals, and then they'd make me go back to my cupboard."

"Your cupboard?"

"Yeah," Harry's eyes seemed a bit glazed as he absently dipped another biscuit into his tea. "My room."

"Your room was a cupboard?"

"I know it sounds terrible, but it wasn't that bad. I mean, I think I've outgrown it now. It was starting to get a bit cramped. But it's okay, they moved me to Dudley's second bedroom when I started getting my acceptance letters. I have an actual room now."

"I remember it took you a while to respond to your acceptance letter. Professor Dumbledore had to send Hagrid out for you. Was there a reason for that?"

"Well, they wouldn't let me open the letter for a long time. They just didn't want me to go to some freak school." Severus frowned at the boy's choice of words, but allowed Harry to continue. "They tried everything to keep the letters from me and to keep me from going to that school. Hagrid really scared them though. He just blew up the door and gave Dudley a pigtail! I think some ears would have been nice too!"

Harry smiled and then suddenly his eyes seemed to clear, and he frowned. He dropped the biscuit he was holding and stared down at the tea he had been drinking. He slowly looked over at Severus and noticed that the man never touched his tea. Severus smirked at how realization suddenly fell over Harry's face. The boy wised up quickly.

"What did you do?" the boy asked in a shuddered whisper, not hiding the fear in his voice.

Severus allowed the small vial hidden in his robe sleeve to slip down into his hand. He twirled it in his fingers, allowing the boy to stare. There really was no point in lying to the boy.

"Veritaserum," Severus said casually. "Also called a truth serum. Although this one is a weakened version and seems to be losing its effect on you rather quickly."

Harry's eyes widened. Severus was sure the boy was wondering when the man had even dosed the tea. Severus had done it when he had opened the lid of the pot to "release steam."

"You . . . drugged me?"

"Hardly," Severus smiled maliciously, "a drop never killed anyone."

Harry gulped. Severus rather enjoyed this. He could enjoy teasing the boy, torturing his mind just a little, and he still managed to get the answers he wanted. He watched as Harry shakily pushed the teacup aside. The boy's eyes flashed at him angrily, though he still looked terrified.

"I could tell on you for this!" Harry stated.

"You could," Severus agreed, "and I'll explain what exactly our conversation consisted of."

Harry paled. "You wouldn't. That stuff was personal. You had no right . . ."

"You're right. But no one stopped me. Pity."

Harry stood from his seat and backed away from the desk. Severus stood as well, picking up the package off his desk and holding it out to Harry.

"Do not leave without this," Severus demanded. "And if I don't see you wearing these clothes, I will find hideous outfits to spell on you every day."

Harry paused, his eyes tearing once more, but he stepped forward and accepted the package.

"You may go," Severus dismissed him casually, sitting back down in his chair.

Harry stared at Severus and the vial that now sat on the man's desk for a moment before turning and running out of the office. Severus watched the boy leave, feeling no regret for what he had just done. He may have broken any trust the boy had in him, which surely wasn't a lot, but he had what he needed now. Evidence. Straight from the boy's mouth. And even though he said he wouldn't get involved in the boy's life, that he would try to forget about this whole situation, he knew there was no way his mind would rest if he didn't try something.

Chapter Text

"Did you know about Potter's home life?" Severus demanded. "What his so-called family puts him through?"

"I've heard stories, Severus," Albus responded sadly, "but I was unaware of the depths of the abuse. And I regret to say that there is little that can be done."

"Little?" Severus snapped, walking around the headmaster's desk, eyeing the pensieve that rested on a table just beyond the shelves of knickknacks and books. His conversation with the man thus far had not gone exactly as he had hoped it would. "Perhaps if I show you what I've seen – everything from his reactions to hands near his face and what he told me yesterday . . ."

"I don't wish to see your memories," Albus said, holding up a hand. "I know that if I see them, I will be persuaded to attempt something to help the boy when even I know it is futile overall. Harry is safest within the blood wards and any attempts to help him will catch the attention of the entire wizarding world. The fewer who know of Harry and his situation, the better. We do not want the wrong people attempting to "rescue" the boy from his situation at home should the press release a paper about it."

"Then we keep it from the press."

"That is easier said than done, especially considering Harry's status in the wizarding world."

"You can't be honestly considering just letting him return back to that terrible family?"

"There is nothing I can do, I'm afraid."

"What are you talking about? There is a lot you can do. Remove him, rehome him, do something about those filthy muggles – anything would be improvement."

"If Harry were any other child, I would readily support him. But as it is, Harry is not just an ordinary boy, Severus."

"Now Severus, I did my best to –"

"You did nothing. Don't even try to deny it. But Potter needs help out of that so-called family of his. I'm sure there is physical abuse going on in that house from what I've witnessed thus far and if that's the case, Potter could be in danger."

"His relatives have kept him alive all these years without fail. I'm sure they will continue to do so. This is a complicated proposition you are proposing. I can talk to Harry's relatives before summer break –"

"And do more harm than good," Severus snapped, turning away from the Headmaster's desk and heading for the door. This was completely hopeless. He should have known Albus wouldn't . . .

"If you can convince the Minister for Magic," Albus said quickly before Severus could leave, "I will be delighted to help you and Harry."

Severus didn't turn around. He simply asked, "What use is he?"

"Minister Cornelius Fudge has the power to give you and myself permission to remove Harry Potter from his muggle family. We will need his consent before proceeding any further."

"And if he refuses?"

"Then I'm afraid nothing else can be done. Harry will have to return to his relatives during the summer months."

Severus sighed and left the headmaster's office without so much as a goodbye.

"Remove the boy from his home?" Fudge questioned as he threw on his minister robe over his suit. "I don't believe that would be in Mr. Potter's best interest. If that is all, I have a very busy schedule today."

"You're not even going to take account of the abuse I've mentioned?" Severus growled, clenching his fists.

"Do you have proof of this abuse?"

"I do," Severus said, pulling out his wand and touching the tip to his head. "And I see you have a pensieve. Do you have a moment to spare to observe?"

Fudge stared at Severus silently for a moment before sighing inconveniently and walking over to his pensieve, beckoning Severus over to him. Severus pulled the necessary memories from his head, making sure to leave out some important details that could land himself (or that overgrown child, Hagrid) in any trouble. He placed the thread strings of memory into the pensieve and stepped back as Fudge took a look.

Severus recognized the package as the clothes he had bought Harry, once again magically packaged and sealed. Severus frowned down at the boy.

"You foolish child. They are yours."

"I don't want them!"

"Quit acting like a five-year-old, Potter," Severus growled, pushing the package back against Harry's chest. "You need them, and I did not waste my money on perfectly suitable material just for you to throw them away."

"I'm not throwing them away. I'm giving them back. You can return them all and get your money back."

"I will do no such thing. You refused to have clothes from home sent to you and with the weather as it is here, there is hardly any point in you freezing to death simply because you were too stubborn to . . ."

"I told you!" Harry all but shouted angrily. "I told you why I couldn't have clothes sent to me! And I don't need your charity!"

Then, the scene shifted.

"But . . ." Harry frowned, "did you say . . . house elves? Are those like . . . I've heard of elves before, but I . . . are they . . .?"

Rolling his eyes as he realized the boy wasn't going to drop it, Severus called out, "Bakkey!"

A loud pop sounded in the room and a house elf appeared, bowing respectfully. Severus noticed Harry jump at the noise and then stare at the creature as one would some caged zoo animal.

"Yes, Master Snape?" Bakkey asked.

"Bring myself and Potter some tea, would you?"

"Of course, Master Snape."

Bakkey disappeared in another loud pop. Harry blinked before flashing Severus a confused look.

"That is a house elf?"

"He is, yes."

"Is he like . . . a slave?"

"Hmm," Severus hummed at Harry's comparison. In some sense, it was an accurate description. But in another sense, it wasn't always the case. As was the case at Hogwarts, where the elves chose to be around and work at the school. So, Severus decided on his answer. "No. He and the many others that work here choose to be here. And I can assure you, they are not to be ordered around by you or any other student."

"I wouldn't do that, sir!"

"Then I'm sure we won't have a problem."

Then, a tray appeared with a teapot, cups, sugar cubes, and biscuits. Severus lifted the lid of the teapot to release some trapped steam, then poured tea in both cups, and said, "Help yourself."

Severus added a sugar cube to his tea, ignoring Harry's suspicious look.

"Why are you giving me tea?" the boy asked.

"Well, for one, it'd be a waste not to use it all after Bakkey went through all the trouble. And two, tea is known for its calming effects, and I'm sure that is exactly what you need after your little tantrum."

"I didn't throw a tantrum!"

Severus gave the boy a pointed glare as he stirred his tea, effectively cooling Harry's temper. But Harry still didn't move for the tea.

"Honestly, Potter," Severus snapped. "I didn't make the tea, so I can assure you, it's not poisoned."

"So . . ." Harry began, dipping his biscuit in the tea, "did . . . Bakkey? Did he make this?"

"Yes," Severus answered, absently stirring the tea he had yet to drink from.

Harry ate the biscuit before asking, "So, house elves . . . they do all the chores?"

"They do."

"So, is that how my bed is always made when I come back from classes."

"Perhaps. Though I'd suggest you should really make your own bed in the morning. It's a good habit to have."

"There's no point. I'm just going to mess it up again," Harry muttered.

Severus smirked at the comment.

"Well, besides making your bed, they also clean the castle, make all the meals, and tend to the grounds, including the Quidditch Pitch."

"That's a lot of work," Harry frowned, not really liking that these creatures did so much. "Are they at least paid?"

"Of course not."

"What do you mean, of course not?" Harry glared. "That's not right!"

"They are not paid, Potter, simply because they do not wish to be."

"Oh," Harry frowned down at his tea this time, taking a quick sip. "It still doesn't seem right."

"You feel strongly on the matter. Why?"

"Well," Harry's frown deepened, "I guess maybe because I had to do all the chores and make all the meals at my relatives – no one else did anything! Well, Aunt Petunia sometimes cooked. But I had to take care of the garden too. And I was hardly given a meal for completing everything. I was given nothing!"

Harry blinked, then looked up at Severus with burning cheeks.

"Sorry," the boy said, "I'm not . . . sure why . . ."

"It's alright," Severus said, finally taking the spoon out of his tea and setting it aside. He rested his arms on the table. "You seem calmer and I'm sure after your little outburst earlier, you wanted to get that off your chest. But, while we're all being honest, care to expand on what you meant by "hardly given a meal?""

Harry sipped the tea as he eyed the plate of biscuits, trying to resist seeming rude and taking more. Severus's eyes followed the boy's gaze.

"Feel free to take another biscuit, Potter. In fact, take them all. I certainly won't eat them."

"Err, thanks, sir. I'm sure Ron will like that. But when I'm at my relatives, I have to cook all the meals, but I'm not allowed to eat at every single one. I'm lucky if my aunt and uncle let me have leftovers. When I was younger, I'd make the meals, and then they'd make me go back to my cupboard."

"Your cupboard?"

"Yeah," Harry's eyes seemed a bit glazed as he absently dipped another biscuit into his tea. "My room."

"Your room was a cupboard?"

"I know it sounds terrible, but it wasn't that bad. I mean, I think I've outgrown it now. It was starting to get a bit cramped. But it's okay, they moved me to Dudley's second bedroom when I started getting my acceptance letters. I have an actual room now."

"I remember it took you a while to respond to your acceptance letter. Professor Dumbledore had to send Hagrid out for you. Was there a reason for that?"

Fudge pulled out of the pensieve with a thoughtful expression. Severus waited patiently – though only on the outside; his insides were clenching anxiously. Silence reigned for several moments.

"The boy's honesty is questionable," Fudge finally said. "You didn't drug him with Veritaserum, did you? That is illegal."

"Of course not," Severus denied, crossing his arms. "The boy was obviously in a state of distress and the tea had a bit of calming draught in it. Potter was clearly just in an emotionally vulnerable state."

"Hmm," Fudge narrowed his eyes at Severus. "Regardless, the boy is in one piece. There's hardly reason for concern."

Severus bit back a growl as he returned his memory and followed Fudge, who was already walking away, leaving the office.

"You can't be serious!" Severus snapped. "Potter's home life should be a major concern! There is obvious neglect and emotional abuse – and where there's that much, physical abuse isn't far behind."

"Why do you care so much for the boy? Buying him new clothes, giving him a calming tea – why bother yourself?"

"He is a student under my care."

"He's a Gryffindor. Technically, he's under Professor McGonagall's care. Why am I hearing of all this from you instead of her?"

"What does that matter? I'm here as one of his professors informing you that he is living in unfit conditions. He is the Boy-Who-Lived, surely you'd show a little more care in how he is –"

"That's just it, isn't it? He is the Boy-Who-Lived. And if we cause some uproar about what goes on in his home, we are exposing him to the whole of the wizarding world – and that exposure could reach the very people we are hiding him from – much like yourself."

Severus seethed for a moment, trying to allow the comment to roll off his back. He growled, "I was a spy."

"Were you? In fact, I should be more concerned about your looking into this boy's life. Mr. Potter is physically fine. From your memory, he looks healthy."

"As a couple months of good eating and sleeping can do to a child!"

"And at this point, Mr. Potter would only be returning to his relatives during the summer. That's just a for a couple months each year now, it's not like those muggles could do a lot of damage in that time."

"It hardly takes ten weeks to kill someone."

"You have no proof of physical abuse or malicious intent on the guardians' behalf."

"Do you want proof of physical abuse? I could show you a memory of how Potter reacted when I was trying to help him after a potions accident . . ."

"No, I'm done with the pensieve. I don't need to see more memories. Those muggles have kept Mr. Potter alive and safe all these years; I'm sure they will continue to do so for the remainder seven they have left to home him. Mr. Potter is better off with them over having us expose his situation. Considering who he is and what he means, if this got out, he'll be all over the news."

"Why can't we handle this between us? The headmaster said if you allow it, he would aid me in helping Potter. If a low profile is kept . . ."

"How likely do you think Mr. Potter's situation can be kept a secret? Anything could go wrong, Snape! Anything – the boy could expose himself by telling his friends who tell their parents who tell eve more people. Such information always finds its way to the wrong ears. Besides, if we did manage to keep it all quiet, what's stopping potential new families from taking advantage of the boy's fame and inheritance? And I'm surprised Albus would agree to anything considering he was the one who insisted on keeping Mr. Potter within the blood wards."

The two grew quiet as they passed a large group of ministry officials talking about some new bill that needed to be looked over by the Minister for Magic. Fudge sighed, adjusting the cuffs of his robe.

"Albus is willing to reconsider," Severus tried to counter once they were alone in the hall again, walking towards a large room. "If we don't make a big deal of the process . . ."

"There are sneaky reporters around here, Snape. Very sneaky reporters. Word will get out. No matter how careful we are."

"You can't just do nothing! What if this was any other child –"

"Harry Potter is not just any other child."

"You realize that this is almost exactly how the You-Know-Who came to be! An orphaned boy in an –"

"Now wait a minute," Fudge stopped dead in his tracks and glared at Severus. "Mr. Potter has shown no signs of becoming a dark wizard, unlike You-Know-Who, who had been showing signs since he was a small boy. You cannot compare the two, they are entirely different situations."

"Are they?" Severus sneered.

"Yes! And furthermore, Mr. Potter has not had any complaints himself of his life at home and of how his relatives treat him."

"What abused child wants to admit that –"

"And as difficult as this decision is, in the best interest of the boy, he will remain with his relatives. Until he graduates from Hogwarts and can live on his own. That is my final say on this topic. Now if you excuse me, I have an important meting to attend."

And with that, Fudge quickly stormed away, leaving behind a fuming Severus.

Later that evening, Severus found himself at Hog's Head drinking firewhiskey straight from the bottle. He didn't care that it burned his throat, in fact, he embraced the feeling. He had several colorful words on the tip of his tongue that he knew he would spit out should anyone attempt to talk to him. Why did he bother himself with Potter? Why had he even gotten involved? Of course, anything he did would prove futile. What made him think that he could get the Boy-Who-Lived any help? The joke was definitely on him.

The Hog's Head at least offered him some privacy. Despite the bar being one small, dirty, and dingy room with rough wooden tables and a stone floor so dirty it could be mistaken for open ground, it was a place few were ever in at a given time. And Severus needed that alone time. He just needed to remind himself that Potter wasn't his business. Severus forced down another sip of the strong drink.

They were all a disgrace! Severus thought angrily in his head. All of them – the ministry, Albus, those bloody muggles! Severus forcefully swallowed another sip.

The door to the pub creaked opened. Severus didn't bother looking up until the footsteps stopped next to his table. Glancing up with just his eyes, he noticed Minerva standing over him, her arms crossed. Deciding to ignore her, he took another sip of his drink.

"Well," Minerva said, brushing off the chair across from Severus with a Daily Prophet. She sat down and stared at Severus intently. "I heard from Albus that you had gone to the ministry to discuss a possible new arrangement for Mr. Potter. He told me it was unsuccessful."

Severus remembered returning to the Headmaster's office and yelling at the man about the lack of productivity and care for a child's safety and welfare. Albus had said nothing the entre time Severus had shouted at him and berated the man and the ministry. Surely Albus was used to his temper. After he had gotten everything off his chest, Severus had stormed out of the office without so much as hearing one word come out of Albus's mouth.

"Was that all he said?" Severus asked. Nothing about his tantrum?

"He also said you were quite upset about the decision to leave Mr. Potter in his relatives' care."

"He'll be dead before his second year," Severus said, sipping the firewhiskey again.

"You don't know that for sure," Minerva said, reaching over and snatching the bottle from Severus. "That boy is rather resourceful. That's a trait Slytherin's pride themselves on, isn't it? Besides, if it really concerns you, why don't you get more involved in his life? Be that male role model I told you about. Perhaps a few visits in the summer with him. If not to get to know the boy, then at the very least to make sure he is alive and healthy."

"Are you kidding me? That child hates me. Why don't you get involved?"

Severus reached for the bottle, but Minerva pulled it out of his reach.

"I concern myself with far too many students over the summer as it is. Unless you've forgotten, I am the main professor they send out to talk to Muggleborns' parents about Hogwarts and the wizarding world."

"I am done helping any student for a long time, Minerva. Now, will you give me back my whiskey!?"

"No. You cannot do this to yourself every time you face a challenge you cannot solve. This isn't the answer. And it isn't healthy."

"I'll do as I please, thank you, Minerva." Severus reached over and snatched the bottle from her, taking a sip from it, the burn scratching at his throat. "I didn't ask you to come here."

Minerva sighed and stood up, wrapping her cloak around her tighter.

"Fine. Just don't bother coming back to the school if you drink yourself to a stupor. I can put up with many things, Severus, but a miserable drunk is not one of them. You are not your father. You can be better if you choose."

Severus merely took another sip, earning a defeated sigh from Minerva. He watched as the older woman walked out of the pub, briefly wondering how she even knew to find him here. It shouldn't have surprised him, though, considering his habits. Severus sighed himself, sipping at the drink, gripping the bottle tightly in his hand.

He stared out a filthy window, not that he could really see through it. Could he be better than this? He needed this drink. But did he really? He felt like he did. He raised the glass to his lips but didn't drink from it. He did have classes to teach tomorrow and a no-show would look poorly on him. But the stress of the day was still eating away at him. He needed the drink. Did he –?

Severus forced himself to pull the bottle away from his lips. He sighed miserably before shoving his chair back and throwing on his cloak. Maybe a long walk back to Hogwarts would help soothe the rest of those nerves away. Why did Potter's case bother him so much anyway?

Severus left the Hog's Head and began to walk back to Hogwarts. Why did he even care about Potter's home life? That question had been bothering him since he had gotten involved.

Severus closed his eyes, feeling a bit lightheaded. He craved to finish that whiskey, but he urged himself to keep walking away. He would not be his father. Not tonight.

He had to let go of this thing with Potter. It was going to be the death of him if he didn't. But he was in too deep now. Could he let it all go? Could he just push this incident behind him?

Severus breathed in the chilly night air that burned his throat just as painfully as the firewhiskey had. He didn't think he could let this go. But what could he do? Potter was stuck at his relatives on the Ministry's orders. The boy would suffer under those muggles care. And with no upper hand, Severus had to accept that fate for Potter, even if it crippled him. And it was. And it was all because of that stubborn, reckless, insolent brat.

Chapter Text

Weeks passed, and Severus hadn't heard from or really seen Harry besides for classes, and even then, the boy didn't so much as make eye contact for a second. Which had all been fine with Severus. Falling back into routine had been easy for him, and he was sure it was much easier on Harry. At least he thought. Not that he cared. His job was to teach insolent, obnoxious children the art of potion brewing and then call it a day. Easy enough for him.

Yet, Severus could never get the thought of Harry's homelife out of his head. It was like an endless nagging in the back of his head, reminding him that even the great Harry Potter deserved fair treatment at least from his family if no one else. He knew this.

Why did no one else seem to care?

It didn't matter anymore. He had to get Harry out of his head. The boy was alive enough and would be fine. Harry also wore the new clothes Severus had bought for him. It was only nearing Christmas break. Severus was sure the boy would choose to stay and then there was still months of school. The boy would be safer and healthier here than at his relatives. Besides, it was just ten weeks of summer. How much damage could someone really do in that time? Severus closed his eyes as he was hit with a memory.

"Damn it, boy!" his father's thunderous voice echoed in the house. "Get down here now!"

Severus had just returned home from Hogwarts for the summer, his mother had dropped him off home and left for work, and he had been setting his bag down in his room when he flinched at his father's voice. So much for a welcome home. He couldn't wait for fourth year to start. He walked back down the stairs, glancing over the railing.

"Yes, father?" he asked, pausing on the stairs, afraid to move down any further.

"Do you see the mud you tracked in?" Tobias stood at the bottom of the stairs. "What have I told you about taking your shoes off before coming into this house? What the fuck will it take to get that rule through that thick head of yours?"

Severus looked at the doorway. One muddy shoeprint on the carpet. That was all he could see. And he had taken his shoes off, just in his room instead of right by the door. He figured it was a force of habit from school, but he wasn't going to share that info with his father. He crept down a couple more stairs, hoping his face looked as apologetic as possible. It would be best to play submissive than get in with it over one small mud print.

"I'm sorry, I'll clean it up immediately. I just forgot . . ."

"You do an awful lot of forgetting," Tobias commented, his face suddenly expressionless. "What are they teaching you at that freak school of yours?"

"Just stuff," Severus said, taking a step down closer, praying he'd be allowed to grab a rag, clean the floor, and run back to his room with no problems.

"Stuff, eh?" Tobias motioned for Severus to come all the way down the stairs. "Anything about common sense rules?"

"Well . . ." Severus hesitated, pausing in front of his father at the bottom of the staircase. He looked up at the man, wanting this talk to be over.

Tobias was just staring at him, his face still expressionless. Severus swallowed dry air and was about to say he'd clean the mess up when a hard fist slammed into the side of his head, knocking him to the floor, his head bouncing on a stair, the crack from the fall audible across the room. Severus saw stars among a black sky for several seconds and his ears rang. Blood dripped from where his forehead had collided with the stair.

"Let that be a lesson on remembering," Tobias said, walking away.

Severus absently rubbed at his forehead, realizing that had the man struck him any harder, he could have hit the stair with much more force and potentially have suffered more than a mild concussion. And that had been the first day of his summer vacation. Who was he kidding – it did not take ten weeks to kill someone. The Dursleys' could very easily starve the boy in a matter of a few weeks, overwork him in the hot sun in a few days, or even hit him hard enough as Severus's own father had down. Any of those scenarios could be the boys last bit of life and it would hardly take all of summer to kill a child. And death wasn't even the main issue. Harry's emotional and mental health were at stake just living with the Dursleys, as was his physical health if they chose to starve the kid.

And no one cared to do a thing about it.

Severus sighed, turning his attention back to his class or first year Gryffindor and Slytherin students. Harry had his head bent over his cauldron as he worked, purposefully avoiding the professor's gaze. If the boy kept that up, his hair would be just as greasy as Severus's, the man thought amusedly.

Severus walked around the room, checking on each student's cauldron. He paused directly behind Harry, noting that the child tensed and stopped stirring.

"Stand up straight," Severus demanded, "you're brewing a Forgetfulness potion not steam cleaning your hair."

Slytherins snickered across the room as Harry stood up straight, sending a quick glare Severus's way. The boy's mistake. Their eyes met for the first time in these few weeks, and Severus simply glared back. Harry gave in and turned back to his potion, making sure to keep out of the fumes. Severus smirked. No one could beat him in a stare down. He began to walk away when he remembered something and paused.

"Stay after class, Potter," he threw over his shoulder before continuing through the classroom.

Harry froze once more, and Severus could hear the quiet whispering between the Golden Trio as they tried to figure out what he might want Harry to stay behind for. Severus decided to allow the children to fret and worry. He continued through the classroom, checking on the other students' progress.

As class was almost over, a loud crash vibrated off the stone walls of the dungeons. Severus spun on his feet and glared at Neville Longbottom. Of course, the clumsy oaf couldn't make it through one potions class without causing some kind of scene. Some child of well-respected Aurors. That boy would never live up to his name. Severus stalked towards Neville, glaring down at the child, taking in the dropped vials of finished but now ruined potions on the floor. What a waste of his products.

"What is the meaning of this?" he hissed through his teeth.

"I-I dropped it by accident – it just slipped, I swear – I'm really sorry, sir –" Neville rambled on quickly.

Severus rolled his eyes and said, "Enough blabbering from you. Obviously vialing a potion is far too complicated for your minuscule brain, not to mention that you have wasted good material with your clumsy –"

"It was an accident, sir," another voice dared to interrupt him. And Severus didn't need a second to guess who. He sent a glare Harry's way, once more meeting the boy's own glare.

"Get back to your own station, Potter," Severus growled, pointing back at the Golden Trio's station.

"No," Harry said, "I mean, no, sir."

Cause adding that sir made his defiance all the better. Several students in the class stared wide-eyed at Harry, watching the interaction. Severus clenched his jaws and turned more towards Harry and away from Neville.

"Do not make me take points. Go back to your station and vial your potion."

"Leave Neville alone, then, sir. It was an accident, he didn't mean to break the vials."

Severus didn't really like the way Harry said "sir" each time. Obviously, the boy was trying to remain respectful without actually sounding respectful. He wondered if he should comment on the triviality of doing that. Deciding now was not the time for that, Severus narrowed his eyes at the boy and decided on a different tactic.

"And is Mr. Longbottom not a Gryffindor?"

"What does that have to do with anything? He's a Gryffindor."

"Then surely you could have allowed him to stand up for himself without butting your nose into another's business, but I guess minding your own business is a trait our celebrity seems to lack."

"I'm not a celebrity and I'm just helping a friend, a trait Slytherins seem to lack."

He did not, Severus thought in his head, his eyes flashing. Students oohed in the classroom, some gasping. He bit back a comment, not wanting to keep this silly "comebacks" conversation going between himself and an eleven-year-old. He pointed back to Harry's station.

"Vial your potion then report to my office, Potter."

Harry glared at him.

"Now," Severus growled for emphasis, "before I start taking points and handing out detentions."

Harry glanced at Neville then back up at Severus before slowly turning back to his table, picking up a spoon to scoop up and fill a vial to label. From the distance he was at, Severus could see that Harry's potion was not only the wrong color, but the wrong consistency. Severus sighed, but turned back to Neville, scanning for any damage the spilt liquid may have caused. Had the boy been sleeveless, the potion would have seeped into the child's skin and caused who knew what kind of memory loss. Honestly, potions should not be taught to any class under fifth year. Good thing robes were required in school.

"Remove your robe," Severus said, glaring at the trembling boy. "Do not touch the sleeves. Knowing your skill in potion brewing, you might very well have concocted some kind of skin eating poison."

Neville paused in stripping out of his robe, his eyes wide and looking at the wet sleeves. Severus smirked and left the boy with that. A skin eating poison. Amusing. But highly unlikely.

"Class is over," Severus announced. "I expect everyone to have a correctly labeled vial filled three-fourths the way with your completed potion on my desk. And I swear, if it doesn't have your name on the label, I will take house points for such carelessness."

Severus watched satisfied as everyone checked their vials multiple times to make sure everything was complete, some filling the vials a bit more with their potion. Everyone finished cleaning their stations, gathered their belongings, and set their vials on Severus's desk as they left the dungeons. Neville was the last to leave and Severus scanned the room for any more stragglers. Severus left the vialed potions on his desk and locked the classroom door, making a beeline for his office.

He saw Harry standing outside the door to his office.

"It was locked," Harry said.

"As it should be," Severus commented, reaching for the knob spelled to open for him and him alone. He held the door open for Harry, motioning for the boy to hurry inside, shutting the door behind him.

"Sit," Severus said, pointing to a chair in front of his desk.

Harry slumped down into the seat.

"Sit up!"

Harry quickly did as he was told, glaring at Severus. Severus ignored him and took a seat behind the desk.

"I had simply wanted to talk to you about your grade, but first, we are going to discuss your behavior in class."

"You were bullying Neville!"

"Mr. Longbottom has nothing to do with how you behaved in class, and he was perfectly fine."

"He has everything to do with it!" Harry argued, frowning in disbelief. "You had no right –"

"As the professor," Severus interrupted, "I have every right to handle my students as I please, and as I still have permission from the headmaster to handle you as I please, you better start watching your mouth and attitude with me, boy."

Harry's glare softened, and he looked a bit warier now.

"As for your behavior," Severus continued calmly, "you need to learn to stay out of what isn't your business. If I am not speaking directly to you, do not interfere with my lecturing another student."

"You weren't lecturing him," Harry mumbled, though silenced at Severus's dark look.

"Furthermore, if you ever cause a disturbance in my class as you did today, you will be spending your nights scrubbing every crevice and wall in the potions classroom. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, I understand you," Harry said, then grumbled in a quieter voice, "It's not like you were speaking Greek or something, of course I understand you."

"You are pushing it, Potter," Severus warned.

After a few intense, silent seconds, Severus sighed and summoned his grade book. There would be no use going back and forth with the boy. Harry would not back down easily and he would just end up with a headache and probably land a few swats on the mouthy brat's backside.

"About your grade, care to explain why it's Dreadful?"

"My grade in potions has always been "dreadful," I'm sure," Harry frowned, crossing his arms defensively.

"No, Potter," Severus sighed, rubbing his temples. He'd have to dumb this down, wouldn't he? "Dreadful is your grade. You have a D. And yes, your grade in potions has always been low, but before it was a P with some chance at getting to an A, but now it's a D. Why the dropping grades?"

Harry shrugged, picking at his nails, his eyes not looking up at Severus. This was the longest interaction the two have had since Harry ran out of this same office after being drugged with Veritaserum. Severus was sure he knew why Harry's grades were dropping, but he wanted the boy to be aware of the fact himself, so he wouldn't have to repeat first year potions. It was his job as a professor to do so.

"You need to start aiming for higher grades or you'll have to repeat first year potions, Potter. And neither of us want to endure the other for longer than necessary."

"You can say that again," Harry said under his breath.

"One more smart-mouth comment out of you and I'll have you serving detention with me tonight."

"Well, what about you? I can't say anything, but you can say whatever the bloody hell you want?"

"Language."

"It's just English."

Severus sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing at his temples. Honestly, what did he think would happen by asking the boy to stay behind to go over his damn grades. If Harry wanted to fail so badly, why not let him? But then Harry would have to stay an extra year in his classes to make up for all his years, and this is if he doesn't fail another potions class.

"Do you want to fail potions, Potter?"

Harry studied the way the tip of his shoe made a circle pattern on the floor.

"No," he admitted softly.

"You need to start receiving at least E's on your next few essays to get your grade back up to a P. And then, if you can keep your grades high, you might pass the class with an E."

"Why do you care anyway?" Harry gave Severus a curious look, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes.

"It's my job as your professor to make sure you at least pass the class."

"It doesn't seem like you've talked to anyone else who's failing."

"No one else had grades worsening but you."

Severus knew that was a lie. Neville Longbottom went from a P to a T in two weeks. The boy would need a miracle to pass. At least that Granger girl seemed to be helping him out now. And there were a few other students with failing grades, but at least they were maintaining a P. Their finals might help raise that P to an A. But Harry's grade had slowly been getting worse, and Severus had wanted to put an end to it. Not anyone else's. Just Harry's. Why? Severus had no idea. But his answer seemed to satisfy Harry, who looked back down at his shoes.

"Is there anyway I can do extra credit?"

Severus frowned. Had he heard that question correctly? Harry wanted to do extra credit? For potions? Severus leaned back in his chair.

"Why?"

"To get my grade up." Harry gave Severus a look.

"No, I meant," Severus bit back a growl of exasperation. "I meant why do you want to do extra credit? Why do you suddenly care so much about your grade and the class when moments before you were willing to let it drop to a T?"

"I've always been interested in potions," Harry admitted quietly.

That was news for Severus. From his perspective, Harry had never shown any interest in the subject. The boy kept talking.

"I thought it was cool how you could make something magical out of common things and maybe even cure people. I thought it would be my favorite subject."

All this "I thought" made Severus realize that potions weren't Harry's favorite subject because of the professor. Just like the saying: one bad professor can ruin an interesting topic. For a split moment, Harry reminded him of Lily, who had enjoyed potions and even excelled in it. And her son had been so eager to learn the subject, and there was Severus, ruining the beauty of the brewing art. What did he not ruin? It wasn't like he could take back these past few months nor would he want to. Harry would have to learn that he shouldn't let his feelings about certain professors effect his grades.

"If I give you extra credit, everyone else will want extra credit," Severus said blatantly. Harry's face fell. "However, if you turn in an extra essay along with the one due next week, I will boost that grade of yours back up to a P. Then, you will just have to work on pushing it up to an A."

"Really?"

"Yes. But you will not turn in a sloppy homework assignment with this extra essay. If you do not receive at least an A on your homework assignment, the extra essay will count towards nothing."

"Yes, sir," Harry nodded his head, "what am I writing about?"

Severus leaned forward, steeping his hands on the desk. He would have to go about this as carefully as possible. He didn't want the boy getting suspicious of what he was looking for from him. If he did this perfectly, and Harry followed through, he might be able to extract enough information of the boy's homelife. If no one else wanted to help the child, Severus would have to help the boy himself. But without anyone realizing, else he gets in trouble with anyone. He tilted his head, studying Harry's impatient face.

"In muggle schools," Severus said, "students are given a quote, and asked to write what they think it means, relating it to their own personal experiences. I will give you a quote and you will write an essay on what it means and how it relates to you. No less than two feet."

Harry frowned but nodded his head.

Picking up a quill and ripping a piece of parchment from a longer sheet, Severus scribbled down his quote before holding it up for Harry, saying, "Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today I am wise, so I am changing myself. Rumi."

"Who's Rumi?" Harry asked.

"A poet and theologian, but that's beside the point," Severus said, handing the parchment to Harry. "Remember, no less than two feet. And your homework assignment better be an Acceptable."

"Yes, sir."

"You are dismissed."

Harry stood and walked out of the office, staring down at the slip. Severus hoped the boy really thought it through and wrote with truth and experience. He hoped the quote wasn't too confusing for him to figure out or that he avoided talking about his home life period. It was a gamble, a plan he had just thought up and acted on the whim of, but if it worked, Severus could use it to his advantage.

All he needed now was patience.

Chapter Text

"Dismissed," Severus announced to his first year Gryffindor and Slytherin class without even looking up from the essays he was grading.

Everyone scrambled to bottle their potions and deliver them to Severus's desk and leave the classroom. Harry had been the last to deliver his potion, which was slightly off-color. The boy paused for a moment in front of his desk, as if he wanted to say something. Severus paused in his corrections, his quill hovering over the parchment as he waited for Harry to say something. Instead, the boy sighed and turned away, leaving the classroom.

Once alone, Severus sighed himself, then finished grading the essay he was working on. He moved the essay to the bottom of his stack, holding his quill up to grade the next when he remembered he had no classes for the rest of the day. That gave him plenty of time to finish grading the students' works. And he was very curious to read the "extra credit" assignment he had given Harry. Severus shuffled through the essays until he found Harry's quote analysis essay. He knew he should read the boy's homework assignment first and make sure it was passable, however, his curiosity was getting the better of him.

He held up the essay, seeing Harry's name written in the corner and the quote written at the top: "Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today I am wise, so I am changing myself," with "Rumi" written under the phrase. Severus frowned at the child's poor calligraphy. It was challenging enough trying to decipher the boy's required essays and here he was trying to make out an extra essay from Harry. What had he been thinking? As if he wanted to make his life more difficult or waste more of his precious time.

Sighing, Severus began reading what Harry had written.

At first, I had no idea what this quote meant or how it could relate to me. Then I thought about what my life was like before Hogwarts. And I realized that before Hogwarts, I was clever, and I wanted to change the world, or at least, the world I was living in.

My world for as long as I could remember was the cupboard under the stairs. Since you already know about my room being a cupboard, I guess it only makes since to share the whole story. My relatives hate me, and they made sure that I knew how unwanted I was, how much of a burden I was. I was an orphaned freak with no friends and no family that loved me. And I wanted nothing more than to change the world. I wanted the world to bring back my parents, who I had always believed to have died in a car crash. Even though Aunt Petunia told me my parents were no good freaks and drunks, I believed they would have loved me and wanted me regardless of their own faults, if they really were as my aunt said. This was the world I wanted to change.

And then I received my Hogwarts acceptance letter. And suddenly, I'm a wizard and magic is real. I've learned more about myself and my past in one week then I have in years living with my relatives. I'm famous now, though I guess I've always been famous, for defeating You-Know-Who, though I'm not sure I really like being a celebrity, as you called me in my first potions class. I also have friends now, and they are the greatest friends I could ever ask for.

I guess my point is that the world never changed for me. I just discovered a part I never knew existed. And I wouldn't change it for anything. Even if yesterday I did, today, I would much rather change myself.

I want to be more than just the freak in the cupboard under the stairs. I won't let my relatives' words get to me anymore. After everything I've heard about my parents, I want to follow in their footsteps and succeed just like they did. I want to live up to all my professors' expectations, even yours. I want to live up to be a good friend for my first real friends.

So, in conclusion, yesterday, I was clever, and I wanted to change the world. But today, I am wise, and I know I can't change the world or bring back my parents or make my relatives love me. But I can change myself to be the best I can be. I think I understand the quote now. No one can change the world, it is far too complicated to do that. We can make the world a better place and do great things to help others, but we need to change ourselves first. We can't share tea of the pot is empty. We need to improve ourselves and be the best we can be so that we will be ready to help others. We need to fill our own teapot before we can share it with the world.

Severus sighed and set the essay down, rubbing his temples. Structurally and grammatically, the essay was rather weak and too informal, but the words and message the boy put out were powerful. It seemed far too mature for a boy Harry's age, but if Severus had to take a wild guess, he'd say Harry was forced to grow up a little too fast. The boy's essay was exactly what Severus expected, yet so much more at the same time. And for him, at that moment, it was just too much.

No child should have to endure what Harry had. What Harry still had to endure. Severus closed his eyes and breathed, unprepared to deal with this matter, but knowing that he had to. Even if no one would hear him out. He had to try.

Abandoning the rest of his grading, Severus pocketed Harry's essay and left the classroom.

"You wanted proof of malicious intent and abuse?" Severus shouted as he stormed into the Minister's office, slapping Harry's essay down on the man's desk. "Here's your proof. Straight from the child's mouth."

Fudge glared at Severus for his intrusion briefly before picking up his glasses and skimming through Harry's essay, leaning back slightly in his chair.

"What is this?" Fudge asked with half-hearted curiosity.

"The boy requested extra credit to push his grade up in my class and I asked him to write about the meaning of the quote written at the top. This is what he produced on his own."

Fudge was silent as his eyes flicked over the words. The man slowly looked up at Severus.

"Children can fib on paper, you know," Fudge remarked. "They do it all the time. This could be some tall tale the boy is giving you in exchange for a little sympathy. Or perhaps because he knows it's what you want to hear."

Severus bit back several angry retorts, allowing himself to seethe internally while he forced a neutral expression, crossing his arms.

"I highly doubt Potter would dare lie on an essay for my class."

"You seem so sure of that," Fudge commented, handing the paper back to Severus, who neatly folded it and slid it back in a pocket. "I am surprised you are pursuing this situation once more. Your persistence is quite questionable."

"My persistence is questionable? What about your lack of interest?"

"There is nothing of interest here, Snape. Now please, you may either leave this office of your own free will or I will have Aurors escort you out of the Ministry of Magic."

"You cannot honestly say that you see nothing wrong with Potter's homelife. There is obvious psychological abuse and you should know the damage such abuse can lead to."

"I never said Potter's homelife was ideal," Fudge said, rising from his seat, his hands on his desk as he leaned forward slightly, "I do recall saying that in the best interest of the child, he should remain with his relatives for his own safety, regardless of what may or may not be occurring behind closed doors. And unless the boy himself comes forward and says he is unhappy and, preferably, feeling unsafe in his relatives' care, there is nothing to be done. Now, Professor, are you leaving willingly or with an escort?"

Severus held the man's glare for several intense seconds before stepping back. He turned, robes billowing, and slammed the door to Fudge's office.

Later that same day, Severus found himself walking through Little Whinging, knowing exactly where Harry Potter lived. He used a spell that made him invisible to muggle eyes. He would need to remain under the radar. He wasn't technically allowed to be where he was, but he had to see Harry's family for himself.

As Severus turned down Privet Drive, he slowed his walk, silencing the sound of his footsteps. If he remembered correctly, Arabella Figg lived on this same road, and Severus knew if she suspected any wizard trespassers, she'd alert the authorities and Albus immediately.

Severus finally came up to Number 4 Privet Drive. He walked around the house to the backdoor, carefully vanishing the door to step through, just as quickly replacing the door once he was in. It was late evening now, so he wasn't sure what the family would be up to. He took a moment to observe the simple surroundings of the house.

There were Christmas decorations, though subtle, and pictures of the family. Severus immediately noted how all the pictures only included three members when he knew four lived in the house. Severus made his way deeper into the house, voices catching his attention.

"And this is for you as well, Dudders," a lady's voice was saying in an annoying high-pitched squeal. Severus sneered as he made his way towards the living room, staying close to the wall to watch four people interact in the family area near a Christmas tree.

"Thanks, Aunt Marge," a large child smiled at an even larger woman, who smiled happily as she stroked the head of an ugly bulldog.

"Of course, my precious Duddey," the woman – Marge, Severus guessed – cooed at the boy. Severus watched as the young adolescent opened a present of a highly expensive new suit. "I know Christmas is still days away, but I wouldn't want to miss seeing the look o your face as you open your presents. I always feel so bad when I can't be here in person Christmas morning. You deserve the best in the world, you know. I wouldn't want my only nephew to go without."

Severus nearly snorted in disgust at that but held back. The Marge woman turned her attention to the two adults on the couch, one large whale of a man and a skinny, horse-faced woman who Severus would recognize anywhere. Petunia.

"And where is that boy you took in?" Marge asked, a disgusted look on her face.

"Oh, he is at a school for troubled children," Petunia was quick to say.

Severus glared at her answer. Troubled children indeed.

"Which school?" Marge seemed more curious, tilting her head slightly. "I know there are a couple around, but some places can be so lenient on children who are in obvious need of a strapping. I'd hate to see you waste money on an ineffective school. That boy needs serious rehabilitation."

"We've sent him to St Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys," the large man spoke at last. "It is a first-rate institution for hopeless cases such as that insane child. We do not expect him back until the end of June. Good riddance."

Severus bit the inside of his cheek to avoid cursing the family. He continued to listen to what everyone was saying.

"An institute? How fitting. They take punishment seriously there, do they not?" Marge asked.

"Very seriously. We receive weekly reports about the boy receiving a cane once or twice."

"Oh good. A good thrashing is what's needed in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred. You know, I still don't understand why you never put that boy in an orphanage. All he does is burden this family emotionally and financially."

Severus bit down harder on his cheek. It was not lost on him that Harry's name had not been uttered once among the family. He couldn't take listening to these horrendous people much longer. He turned and quietly left the establishment, passing a cupboard under the stairs, anger welling inside him at the sight of the lock on it. Everything in the house just screamed that Harry was completely unwanted and most definitely unloved. It sickened Severus.

He apparated to Hogsmeade to walk back to Hogwarts, thinking about everything he had learned of Harry Potter's life. It seemed that there was always something more to uncover about the Boy-Who-Lived. And the awful truth that no one wished to help Harry was beginning to dawn on him. Why did it always seem that he ended up with these terrible homelife cases?

As Severus entered Hogwarts' main doors, a loud crumbling noise caught his attention. He looked at the stone wall adjacent to the door, putting a hand up to it. The wall felt cold and a slight mold smell hit his nose. He leaned closer and listened, more crumbling and creaking noises echoing behind the wall. Something cold and wet soaked his shoe, and Severus looked down. Water was pooling on the floor, seeping out from behind the wall.

Severus cursed loudly as he stepped back. The school's pipes were obviously leaking and causing water damage to exterior and interior features. And he was sure the problem was extensive. Which would mean the professors would need to perform invasive and complex spells to fix the problem on each level of Hogwarts, and the smell of mold could become more pungent should the professors do so, which would indicate a serious mold problem that no one would want students exposed to.

Which meant all students would have to return home for Christmas Break while the problem was fixed.

Severus was sure that news would go over well with one particular student in mind.

Chapter Text

After discovering the leaky pipes and growing mold, Severus had reported the problem to Dumbledore, who agreed that all the students would have to go home for Christmas break until the problem was resolved. Dumbledore announced the predicament during dinner in the Great Hall, and Severus's eyes immediately fell on the Golden Trio, who were huddled close whispering among themselves. Severus furrowed his brows, wondering what mischief they three were up to.

The following Saturday morning, all the students evacuated the school, boarding the Hogwarts express. Severus had been sure Harry would have at least spoken to the Headmaster about returning home, but according to Hagrid, who had been in charge of escorting the students, Harry had been one of the first on the train, even getting on before his friends. That statement had caught Severus off guard, and for a second, he was sure he smelt a rat, but it could have been the mold in the walls.

And then panic ensued.

An hour after all the students had left, Flitwick, who had been the attending professor on the train to double check head count, sent his patronus to report that Harry had not been on the train. And all the professors went in Lockdown mode, making sure all exits were closed, locked, and spelled with an alarm that would alert to a student's presence.

How dare that insolent brat.

"He must still be in the school," Minerva said.

"That much is obvious," Severus sneered, walking at a quick pace next to Minerva. "I thought Hagrid did a head count as the students boarded?"

"Miss Granger and young Mr. Weasley informed Hagrid that Harry had already boarded before them."

"Ah," Severus smirked, "something we can agree on."

"I'll check the common room and dorms," Minerva said, giving the Fat Lady the Gryffindor password. "Perhaps you should check some of the places Harry may frequent?"

"Because Potter and I are such chums, I would naturally know where such places are."

Minerva rolled her eyes but said nothing as she entered the tower. Severus turned away, sighing and grumbling about spoiled brats ruining his day. Though he knew that Harry was the exact opposite of spoiled, he still didn't enjoy wasting his time searching the entire castle for a missing boy. But who could blame Harry for pulling such an act after witnessing his home life. If Severus had had more Gryffindor bravery as a student, he would have done the same thing.

Keeping his own childhood in mind, Severus thought back to all the places he enjoyed visiting when he attended Hogwarts. Places where he could be alone and think in peace, away from idiotic students and bullies. The gardens, Hagrid's hut, the lake, the Owlery . . .

Wait, didn't Harry have an owl?

Severus turned sharply and headed for the Owlery. He wouldn't bother informing another professor of his suspicions. He wanted to deal with this brat himself.

Severus made record time storming his way to the Owlery with long, quick strides. He traveled up the stairs and opened the entry door without so much as a knock. A couple birds hooted in alarm and puffed their feathers. Severus's eyes scanned the room, spotting one lonely boy and a white snowy on a higher ledge. Harry was sitting crisscrossed on it and the ledge looked sturdy enough to support his weight. But Severus frowned regardless.

"Potter!" Severus yelled up to the boy. Merlin, the child must have climbed up several feet to reach that ledge. Reckless Gryffindor.

Harry jumped, thankfully not enough to lose his balance. The boy stared wide eyed down at Severus but didn't move.

"Get your rear end down here this instant!"

Harry visibly gulped, giving the snowy one last pet before sliding off the ledge to a lower one beneath him. Severus held his breath as he watched Harry descend carefully down the many shelves and rocky surfaces. His fingers graced the tip of his wand in his robe pocket, ready to grab it should the boy slip. Harry slid down to a large window sill. Then, slid out of it.

Severus rushed forward, afraid the boy had lost his footing and fell to his death. Looking out the window, his heart slowed at the sight of Harry working his way down the rocky tower to the ground below. Where the hell had the boy learned to scale buildings?

"Potter! What in the blazes are you doing?"

"I'm not going back!" Harry finally called back to him, halfway down the tower. "I'm staying here for the break. I already signed the paper."

The Christmas stay list, Severus thought.

"That list is void now, Potter. There are reasons you must return home."

"It's just stupid mold!"

"Black mold, boy. Surely you don't wish to catch a respiratory infection?"

"It'd be nothing worse than I've had before."

"Enough of this. Don't move, I'll get you down."

"I'll get myself down," Harry said, moving carefully and slowly once more. "I'm not going back, and you can't make me."

"Potter, I said don't move."

But Harry was through with listening. He was carefully climbing down the rocky structure, pushing his shoes in the right places and reaching for sturdy grasps. Severus sighed and backed up in the Owlery, knowing that if the boy touched the ground, he'd make a run for it. Severus would have to catch him before he could escape his sight.

He knew one way to get the boy before he reached the ground. But he hadn't done such an action in years. He closed his eyes and concentrated on what he was about to do, knowing it would require a lot of energy from himself. He opened his eyes and ran at the window, diving out as one would into a pool, flying down to the boy and grabbing the back of the boy's robes, yanking him off the wall and holding him up in the air, using wordless magic to keep from strangling the boy with his own robes.

"I'm not going back," Harry declared, struggling in the man's grip, reaching for the hand holding him up. "I won't. You can't make me. The train's already left."

"I could just as easily apparate you home. Now quit doing that, if I drop you, you better wish you land on your head and pass out to avoid feeling the impact of falling from twenty feet."

Harry seemed to come to his senses and looked down. He gulped and allowed Severus to lower them both to the ground safely. Once his feet touched the ground, Harry ran, only to be yanked back by the grip still holding his robes. Severus tucked the boy under his arm, holding him securely, then brought his free hand down hard on the boy's rear twice.

"Ow!" Harry cried out. "Professor!"

Severus stood Harry up, but kept a hand on his shoulder should the boy attempt to run again. Harry's ears were red, but he was glaring up at Severus.

"You better explain yourself before I haul you over my knees for a real smacking."

Harry's lower lip trembled slightly, then he looked at the ground and frowned.

"You know why I can't go back," he mumbled.

Severus sighed, but kept a serious face. "And this was your brilliant idea? Causing a mass panic among the staff?"

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone is looking for you, Potter. They still are, in fact." Severus flicked his wand and sent his patronus to inform the staff that he had found Harry. Harry watched the doe with fascination.

"What is that?" he asked.

"I'll ask the questions here," Severus said, releasing the boy and crossing his arms. "What made you think that you could just make yourself at home after the Headmaster specifically ordered everyone home for the break."

"I didn't want to go back," Harry said. "You know why. I thought maybe I could just hide here during the break until everyone came back."

"For two weeks? Where would you sleep? What would you eat?"

"I thought I could just sneak back into Gryffindor tower tonight. And I have food stored in my dorm, if I ration it, it would have lasted me two weeks."

"You have food stored away?"

"Just some snacks and a couple sandwiches."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Watch your tone. Why did you store food away? There's always plenty of food served in Hogwarts."

Harry shrugged his shoulders. Severus glared.

"I do not like to be shrugged at, nor does a shrug answer my question."

Harry remained silent, staring down at the ground.

"Potter, respond to me."

"I would," Harry glared back at him, "but you don't like to be shrugged at, sir."

Severus narrowed his eyes, biting his inner cheek to keep from acting on the impulse to smack the child again. "If you do not answer my question, I will simply take you past the apparition wards and deliver you to your relatives and be done with it. I have had it with your cheek, you little brat, and I will not waste any more of my time when I could be assisting the other professors in fixing the damage to the school."

"It's just a habit, okay?" Harry finally said.

Severus decided not to ask the boy to elaborate. He could put two and two together. Instead, he raised an eyebrow at the boy. Silence reigned for a moment before Severus clasped a hand on Harry's shoulder and began leading the boy away from the Owlery.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked.

"To Professor Dumbledore," Severus said.

"No, please," Harry pulled away, but Severus quickly grabbed the boy's wrist. "He'll send me back. I don't want to go my relatives. I'll leave in the summer, but not now. I promise. I could stay here, I could even help."

Severus remained silent, keeping a firm grip on the boy's wrist as he kept trying to pull away from him. He had stopped moving, more focused on keeping the boy at his side. But he listened to the distraught child as he rambled.

Harry trailed off, looking down to hide a tear escaping his eye. He gave up trying to pull free from Severus and just kept his head down. Severus remained silent, comparing his wishes to always remain at Hogwarts during Christmas break. He never wanted to return to his drunk father and neglectful mother. He never wanted to hear them arguing and fighting. He didn't have a Christmas dinner or presents to look forward to. He had seen how Harry's relatives acted and heard exactly what they thought of their nephew. And Harry reminded him so much of . . .

"Fine," Severus said.

Harry snapped his head, frowning in confusion.

"I will give you two options," Severus continued. He paused, making sure Harry was listening. "One: you will stay with me for Christmas break. You will remain in my quarters while the professors and I work on fixing the water damage. Then you will accompany me to my home in Spinner's End next Saturday where we will remain for the week and return the day before the students arrive back."

Harry's eyes had slowly widened before he frowned once more.

"Option two: you return to your relatives for Christmas break."

Harry shook his head immediately.

"Then you decide on option one?"

"Can't I just . . ." Harry swallowed, looking at the professor's grip around his wrist. He gave a half-hearted attempt to pull free once more, but Severus didn't loosen his hold the slightest. Harry sighed. "What's wrong with staying at Hogwarts? I could stay in Gryffindor tower."

"You will not be left to your own devices, Potter. I gave you your options. Now make up your mind before I decide for you and deliver you to the headmaster. What will it be?"

Harry bit his lip, meeting Severus's eyes. "I don't want to go back."

Severus inclined his head but said nothing. It still wasn't an answer, and he would have to make sure he received an affirmative response before he could inform Albus of his decision to keep watch over the boy for the break. It was only two weeks. That shouldn't be too much of a problem for Albus to agree to.

Harry stared at Severus for a long moment before looking down and saying, "Option one."

"Very well," Severus said. Then he pulled Harry along once more.

"Where are we going now?" Harry asked.

"To my quarters, as we've agreed."

"Oh," Harry said, eloquent as ever.

They were silent on the journey down to Severus's quarters, Severus thinking of all the consequences of having just agreed to taking in Harry James Potter over Christmas break. What had he been thinking? He had fallen for the sympathy ploy. And it wasn't like he could take his words back. He could only hope he didn't regret his decision. There goes his peaceful, student-free vacation.

Once in his quarters, after hearing the audible click of his door locking, he released Harry and pushed the boy into an empty corner in his lounge.

"You will stand here until I say otherwise," Severus said.

"You're making me stand in the corner? I'm not a baby! You can't make me stand here."

"Watch me, Potter. A simple hex will have you standing there still and quiet all night. You will stand here of your own free will and think about your idiotic decision to ignore school orders or I will hex you."

"You will remain silent while you stand in the corner."

"I change my mind!" Harry suddenly said, glaring at the intersecting walls in front of him.

Severus frowned but knew the boy was simply upset at having to stand in the corner. He rolled his eyes and grabbed the boy's shoulder, jerking him out of the corner and turning him to face the door.

"Then I shall assist you to your relatives' home."

"No," Harry slipped out of his weak hold and faced the corner once more. "I'll stand in the corner. Even if it's babyish." The last part was muttered, but Severus decided to let it go.

"You will stand there good and quiet," he instructed.

While Harry stood in the corner, Severus found a parchment and wrote out a note to Albus. He explained the situation and the deal he had made with Harry. He explained that it was just for the two weeks, that Harry had agreed to return to his relatives in the summer, and that he was more than capable of keeping Harry safe for two weeks. He didn't bother making a note to the other professors as he was sure Albus would inform the staff. But that was as far as the news could go. No one else could learn of Harry Potter's whereabouts during the Christmas break.

Severus rolled the parchment and sent it through the floo, catching Harry's attention, who stared curiously at the flames.

"Face the corner," Severus said.

Harry frowned and looked back at the corner, making a face.

Severus sighed. What was he supposed to do now? He couldn't make Harry stand in the corner all day. Well, he could but he knew he shouldn't. Severus sat down in his chair and cast a timer charm for ten minutes, casting it so his wand would flash green light when the ten minutes were up. He figured that was long enough for Harry to stand.

The minutes passed by slowly, Harry fidgeting impatiently and grumbling under his breath occasionally while Severus occupied himself with the Daily Prophet. Once his light flashed green several times, he cancelled the spell.

"You may leave the corner, Potter," Severus informed. "Sit on the sofa."

Harry leaped from the corner to the couch, happy to give his feet a rest.

"I certainly hope you realize now that your actions were uncalled for."

"I realized that before you made me stand n the corner," Harry muttered.

Severus glared, "Enough with that mumbling. You will speak clearly and respectfully from now on or so help me, Potter, you will be spitting out soap suds all winter long. I will not tolerate your disrespect while you stay under my roof, is that clear?"

Harry visibly bit his lip before nodding.

"A verbal answer."

"Yes, sir."

"Thank you," Severus leaned back in his chair, studying Harry. He wasn't in the mood to deal with his disobedience much further. Besides, he had already smacked the boy earlier. "I believe you have been disciplined enough for your direct defiance of an order. Now, we shall go over some rules I expect you to follow while you stay in these quarters."

Harry sighed, but nodded his head, quickly adding a "Yes, sir."

"For the exception of meals in the Great Hall, you will not leave these quarters without my permission and you will inform me of where you are going should I allow you to venture out and I will give you a time at which to return by. You will not be late, and you will not abuse that permission, or you will lose it. In my quarters, you are not permitted to enter my lab, my study, or my bedroom. If you so much as set a toe in any of those rooms, you will find sitting to be highly uncomfortable."

Harry's face turned red, but he nodded.

"You will keep your room here clean and tidy and your bed will be made each morning. Your bedtime is nine thirty and I expect you up no later than seven."

Harry made a face at the mention of a bedtime but said nothing. Severus was sure the boy was just trying to keep himself from being sent back to his relatives. At least at the moment.

"Any questions?"

"No, sir."

"Very well. Are your belongings at least packed or did you even bother with such a meticulous task?"

"Everything's packed, sir. I left my suitcase in my dorm, though."

"You may leave to your dorm and return right back to these quarters. I am sure all the professors know your situation by now. I will have the doorknob spelled to recognize your magic and let you in. You have fifteen minutes to gather what you need and be back here before I come looking for you, Potter, and if I do so, you will not like the consequences."

Harry nodded again, the tips of his ears turning red. Severus wondered how many times he could get that response out of Harry.

"Go."

Harry was off the couch and out of the door in a second. Severus sighed and covered his face with his hands. What had he just signed up for? The floo flared up and a parchment flew to Severus, who caught it and opened it. It was from Albus, and it had just two words: Good luck!

How encouraging, Severus thought, how very encouraging, Albus.

Chapter Text

"It's Christmas Eve," Harry said at the table.

"Indeed," Severus agreed, not moving his Daily Prophet the slightest. Four days flew by fast in his opinion. And yet, it hadn't been as dramatic and mischief filled as Severus had thought it might be housing Harry Potter in his quarters. For the most part, Harry had remained well behaved, asking to visit the library occasionally and working on schoolwork, writing to his friends who had quickly replied. The boy had even refrained from making cheeky comments, as well as from arguing when Severus insisted the boy head to bed for the night. The past few days had been . . . tolerable.

"Well," Harry began again, pushing his lunch around on his plate, "I was wondering if it would be okay if I visited Hagrid today for a while."

"And just how long is "a while" exactly?" Severus asked.

"I don't know, a couple hours or more. I thought I could also play in the snow for a bit, too."

"Play in the snow?" Severus finally lowered the paper. "What would you do outside by yourself and, might I mention, unsupervised?"

Harry shrugged. Severus narrowed his eyes.

"I believe we've already talked about shrugging, Potter."

"I know," Harry quickly said. "I don't know what I would do. I thought I could . . . build a snow fort or something. I've never really played in the snow before."

"Thanks, sir," Harry smiled, quickly shoving his chair back only for the chair to push itself back in.

"You will finish your lunch first," Severus said in a stern tone. "And this is a privilege, Potter. I am allowing you to go outside and play unsupervised in this weather – do not make me regret this. If I find that you have disobeyed any rules in your outing, you will find yourself sitting in your room with nothing but schoolwork to occupy your time for the rest of the break. Understand."

Harry sighed as he picked up his fork and pushed food around once more, muttering a "yes, sir."

Severus lifted his paper, but his irritation with Harry 's fork scraping around on his plate kept him from reading. Annoyed, he folded the paper and set it aside. He had already finished his meal five minutes ago, yet Harry had barely touched his. The past few days, he had made sure the boy ate every bite of his food, seeing as the child could use a little more fat covering his bones. Yet, today, he had barely ate his breakfast and now he was hardly eating lunch.

"Is there a problem with today's menu, Potter?" Severus asked, "Is it not up to your standards?"

"I'm just not that hungry," Harry said, looking hopeful to leave the table.

"That excuse will not do. You will finish what remains on your plate if you have any desire to go outside."

Harry's face dropped even more as he pushed some broccoli around in the steak juices, nearly pushing it off the plate, before stabbing it and forcing it in his mouth, chewing slowly. Severus's frown deepened.

"Do you feel unwell? It would not be wise to send you out in the cold if you are sick."

"I'm not sick. I'm just not hungry. I'm really full now. Can I be excused?"

"No," Severus said, looking down at the boy's plate. He raised an eyebrow at the boy. "What a waste it will be to have all that food thrown out. Obviously, something is bothering you if your are refusing to eat."

"I'm not trying to refuse, I just don't feel hungry."

"Watch your tone," Severus glared at Harry, who stared at his food with a slight pout on his face. After a minute, Severus sighed and said, "You will report to your bedroom for the remainder of the afternoon."

"What?" Harry's head snapped up. "Why? I thought you said I could go outside."

Harry shoved his chair away and stormed off to the spare bedroom he had been using, slamming the door behind him. Instantly, Severus was on his feet. He did not like anyone slamming his doors but himself. He should have known the peace wouldn't last much longer than three days. But why on Christmas Eve? Severus opened Harry's door without bothering to knock, then froze in the doorway.

Harry was lying face down on the bed, silently crying into the pillow.

Severus took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he prepared himself for this. Wonderful, he thought, a crying preteen on Christmas: exactly what I want to be dealing with right now.

Walking over to Harry, he stood by the boy's bed.

"Correct me if I am wrong, but your tears are not just about refusing to eat lunch and not being allowed to go outside. What is going on in that stubborn head of yours?"

"Nothing," Harry managed to say, though he spoke into his pillow.

"I will not continue this conversation if you will not have the decency to look at me and speak clearly. You are not crying over nothing. Your attitude has been deplorable this entire day when we've had a pleasant few days before. What changed?"

"Nothing changed," Harry said quietly, turning his head so Severus could hear him and see his teary eyes. "I just . . . it's Christmas Eve."

"This will be the second time you've pointed that out."

Harry rubbed at his eyes, pushing his glasses up to do so, then reached for a few letters on the nightstand, handing them over to Severus. Severus gave the boy a calculating look before scanning the words. The letter was from Harry's friend, Mr. Weasley, and it was mostly about what his family was up to during the holiday and how the twins were causing trouble as usual. The second letter was from Miss Granger, who described in unnecessary detail her family's traditions. He frowned.

"I do not see how these are contributing to your behavior, Potter. I am not in the mood to play twenty questions, so if you will be so kind as to explain what about these upset you . . ." Severus paused and waited.

"It's just . . . my friends have traditions and stuff and their celebrating Christmas with their family. It's nice and I'm happy for them, but even though I'm still at Hogwarts, I'm still alone and I have nothing. No traditions, no family. All I got was an early Christmas present from the Dursleys. This."

Harry held out a card with a fifty pence piece taped to it. Severus read the note: We received your message and enclose your Christmas present. From Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia.

Still, the boy needed to stay healthy.

"I know this is hard for you," Severus said, staring down at the sniffling boy, who glanced up at Severus's voice, "having a family that wants nothing to do with you during the holidays. And I know spending your holiday with your least favorite professor doesn't lift your spirits any."

"You're not my least favorite," Harry muttered, looking down.

"However," Severus continued, deciding against commenting on the statement, "I am willing to allow you to spend your Christmas Eve enjoying the snow and decorations, and you may visit your friend as well. My only request is that you eat a full meal before heading outside. You deserve to have an enjoyable Christmas Eve just as your friends do. I do not want to take that away from you."

Harry sniffed again. "I don't even know what to do."

Severus sighed and looked away. What was he supposed to do now? Suggest fun ideas to the boy? If anyone were to walk in on them now, he would curse them to the high heavens.

"You said you wanted to play in the snow," Severus reminded, "to build that snow fort you were talking about."

"No fun alone." Harry said.

"It can be fun," Severus forced himself to say, pushing the last word out of his mouth with force. He had no clue of what other things kids did in the snow to play; in his opinion, it was far too cold to be out playing. But surely there was a way to make building a snow fort alone fun. "Do you know the freezing charm? It could help you form ice blocks to create an igloo. Why don't you try that?"

"But I don't know that one," Harry said.

"I could teach you," Severus offered, then hearing himself, added, "if you are able to pay attention and follow direction, that is. And finish your lunch."

"You would really teach me?" Harry's eyes glistened as he stared up at Severus.

"You heard the terms I expect you to agree to."

Harry smiled and nodded, and after finishing his meal, Severus did teach Harry the incantation glacius, which created freezing air at the tip of the wand, allowing the caster to form ice bocks from the snow. Harry had caught on quickly, then, in a much happier mood, was allowed to head outside for a while.

Severus was glad for a moment's peace from the boy. It was starting to get a little too emotional for his tastes. Why he had agreed to a job working with preteen melodramatics was beyond him.

A knock on his door pulled him from his thoughts. He opened it, and Minerva walked in without an invite.

"Come in, Minerva," Severus said as he closed the door, "Good day to you as well, really I am doing fine."

"Stop that," Minerva said, shaking her head. "I won't be long. I just saw Harry outside making an igloo of all things – using a spell taught to third years."

"The boy was capable of learning it, otherwise I wouldn't have taught him."

"That was nice of you. What made you teach that charm in particular?"

"Is this discussion really that important to you?"

"Fine. Don't tell me. I'm just happy that Harry is happy. That boy deserves a good Christmas. Speaking of which, what are you getting him?"

"What do you mean?"

"For Christmas, of course! What else would I mean?"

"I've given Potter a place to stay for Christmas, I'm positive that that is plenty."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

Minerva didn't answer. She shrugged, a smile on her face as she walked back to the door, pausing to say, "You should get him something. It doesn't have to be extravagant. A new scarf or something. It would mean a lot to Harry. By the way, Albus asked me to inform you that the mold problem is resolved. You could head home now."

Severus knew he would wait until after Christmas to leave Hogwarts but refrained from informing Minerva as she left his quarters. Get Potter a present? Who was he supposed to be, Father Christmas? Harry was happy just being away from his relatives. That had to be enough. Besides, Harry had never inquired about receiving anything from him for Christmas.

Severus sighed, and rubbed his temples. Perhaps he could give the boy a memorable Christmas Eve to make up for a lack of a gift. Yes, that was a grand idea. And he knew just the thing.

"I was finished with my igloo in like thirty minutes!" Harry said, nearly skipping at Severus's side as they walked down a trodden, snow-covered path. "Thanks again for teaching it to me. It was really fun being able to use magic in the snow."

"I'm sure," Severus said.

"Where are we going, sir?" Harry asked for the third time.

"If I hadn't answered the first times you asked, what makes you think I will answer this time?"

"Worth a shot."

Harry gasped as they came to a dimly lit village. It looked like a Christmas card, a small village covered in a crisp snow, decorated in lights and wreaths with trees fashioned in ornaments and ribbon. Harry stared wide eyed and jaw agape. It was beautiful.

"What is this place?" he asked.

"This is Hogsmeade," Severus answered. "A village inhabited by only wizards and witches."

"Wow," Harry moved forward, admiring the houses and shops, peering through windows to look at the displays. "This is really incredible, Professor."

Severus followed slowly behind Harry, watching as Harry's eyes soaked in every bit of Hogsmeade, lingering on Honeydukes just enough for the man to have noticed. Severus was glad Harry seemed very impressed by the night trip. After Harry's two hours outside and dinner, Severus told the boy that he had an errand to run and that Harry would accompany him. Harry had seemed less than thrilled with the idea, especially on Christmas Eve, but his excitement had grown. A shout of excitement from Harry pulled Severus from his thoughts.

"Look at this, Professor!" Harry said.

Severus approached where Harry was glued to the window. On display in an antique shop was a striking red toboggan with a big red bow stuck to it. Severus looked down at Harry, the boy's eyes never leaving the wooden sled.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Harry asked, his breath fogging the window.

"Not quite as beautiful as the town tree," Severus said, pointing to the center of the village.

Harry spun around and gaped at the huge tree decorated from trunk to tip with lights, ribbon, tinsel, and ornaments. Harry stood at the bottom of the tree, looking up at its enormous size and beauty.

"Each year, the village comes together to pick a tree, bring it here, and decorate it. It is a tradition," Severus explained.

It really is beautiful," Harry seemed overwhelmed in Severus's opinion. The boy looked to Severus, and said, "This has been the best Christmas Eve ever, sir. Thank you."

The next morning, Severus fought a smile threatening to spread across his face as he listened to the boy open his presents through the door. The child's laughter and happiness were undeniable. Harry deserved it after receiving his gift from the Dursleys'. The room grew quiet and Severus figured he should force the boy out of the room.

"Potter, if you don't come and take care of this large parcel in my living room, I'm throwing it in the fireplace," he said, though he guessed it may have been unnecessarily harsh. Oh well, it got the boy out of his room.

"What parcel?" Harry spotted a large, wrapped package leaned against the wall near the fireplace. Curious, he searched it for an address. "It's from you?"

"Congratulations Potter, you can read. Just open it."

Harry didn't need a second invite and ripped the paper off, gasping at the red toboggan from Hogsmeade. "Thank you, Professor. This is amazing! But . . . You didn't have to get me anything, sir, you've already done so much and –"

"I am well aware of what I do and do not need to do with my life. It is yours and I will not take it back, so do not even try returning it to me as you did with those clothes."

"Yes sir. Sir, can I please take it outside and try it out?"

"May you and you may," Severus frowned as Harry grinned and ran to find his boots, "after you've eaten a decent breakfast and have changed into appropriate attire. For heaven's sake, slow down. This is no reason to act like you were raised by trolls.

"Sorry, sir." Harry have the Professor a guilty smile but didn't seem any calmer than before.

Severus gave a nod of acknowledgement and gestured to the table.

"Really, sir, thank you," Harry said softly as he took his seat. "It's the greatest gift anyone has ever given me."

Severus fought to not let those words affect him. "Think nothing of it," he said, praising himself inwardly for not falling into another flashback.

Later that night, Severus walked through the halls of Hogwarts later that Christmas night for some alone, quiet time. It had been a good day for him and Harry. After Harry has played with his new sled for hours, he and Severus had attended the Christmas dinner and Harry had enjoyed the roast turkey and potatoes, along with the rich cranberry sauce. The boy had third helpings, and Severus couldn't deny him from opening one more wizard cracker. Dumbledore had tried to get everyone singing Christmas carols, and no one but Harry joined him while sipping his eggnog. Severus had merely rolled his eyes.

And through it all, Harry had been well behaved. Despite their rough Christmas Eve morning, the boy couldn't have been more obedient. It made Severus feel slightly guilty for everything he had accused the boy in the past. He had been wrong about Harry. Severely wrong.

And now he was housing him. How had that happened? When did their relationship take such a turn? Harry had to be behind this all – that insolent brat. Somehow, he had found Severus's weak spot and exploited it, forcing the man to take him in over winter holidays.

Severus snorted at the thought. As if.

"Snape," Filch's voice said from behind him and he turned. The man had his cat curled in his arms, purring as she slept. "There's been a disturbance in the library. Someone's been in the restricted section. Where's that wayward brat you're watching?"

"In bed, where I left him," Severus said, frowning at Filch and crossing his arms. "A disturbance in the library? Are you sure Peeves isn't causing havoc again just to mess with you for pure entertainment?"

"I know when a student is out of bounds, Snape," Filch continued. "And this had Potter's markings all over it, I know it."

"I left my quarters not fifteen minutes ago," Severus said, "And Potter was in his bed and asleep. Though I will certainly keep an eye out."

Filch turned his nose away and left the hall, Severus rolling his eyes as he continued on, traveling down a flight of stairs and falling back into his thoughts. After the past few days, it seemed unlikely that Harry would suddenly start disobeying his rules now. Of course, it was just his imagination that a child was walking out of an unused classroom right now.

Anger swelled in his chest as he increased his pace and lengthened his strides to catch up to Harry and caught him by the shoulder, turning the surprised boy around. He had just defended the disobedient brat, too. Why did he think Harry could go more than one week without causing any trouble?

"Obviously," Severus said, glaring down at Harry, "your bed has learned to run away from you because I know you wouldn't deliberately disobey one of my rules, now would you? So Potter, which way did it go?"

Harry visibly gulped and stared down at his slippers, a long cloak draped over his arm. Severus thought it looked vaguely familiar but he was too furious with Harry to think too much of it.

"Well?" he growled.

"It didn't go anywhere," Harry said.

"Then explain what you are doing out of bed and more importantly, out of my quarters."

When Harry shrugged his shoulders, Severus narrowed his eyes.

"So be it," Severus said, crooking his fingers as he turned, indicating that Harry should follow. "Let's go."

"I'm sorry," Harry offered as he followed the man.

"It seems that you and I are overdue for a very long discussion," Severus said, glaring down at the boy, who paled and looked away, choosing to invoke his right to remain silent. Severus clenched his fists as he tried to take deeper breaths. And they had been doing so well.

Chapter Text

Severus threw open his door and held it for Harry to walk through, slamming it shut behind them, the noise making Harry wince.

"Hang up your cloak," Severus instructed, shredding off his outer robe and hanging it on the hatstand.

"I'll put it in my room," Harry said, holding the bundled clothing tightly in his arms.

"Do as I've said," Severus growled, pointing at the hatstand as he moved further in his parlor.

"Why can't I put it in my room?"

"Potter, it will be fine hanging there. We have more important matters to deal with – your direct defiance which still seems to be clouding your brain as we speak. You are in enough trouble as it is. Do not make matters worse. Hang it and get over here." Severus motioned to the sofa, watching as Harry gulped and glanced down at the cloak in his arms then back up at Severus. His patience ran out and Severus huffed as he strode back to Harry, snatching the cloak from the boy. He almost threw it across the room when his hand disappeared.

Instead, the cloak fell to the floor. It took Severus a mere second to remember James Potter's invisibility cloak. How the hell did Harry end up with it? Wait . . . Albus. Harry quickly snatched the cloak off the floor, cradling it to his chest.

"Give that here, this instant!" Severus said, holding out a hand palm up.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, unconsciously admitting to his wrongdoings. "Don't take my father's cloak. It's all I have."

"Potter," Severus lowered his voice and glared at Harry, "give it to me. Now."

Harry's lower lip trembled, and his eyes watered before he glared back at Severus. "No."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Harry muttered.

Severus bit down on his inner cheek as he stared at Harry with a challenging glare. Harry didn't look like he would give in any time soon. And Severus really didn't want to force the cloak out of Harry's death grip. He was sure it would just lead to a draining wrestle.

"I am not taking it away from you, Potter," Severus chose his words carefully. "However, you have broken several rules with your cloak tonight. And like it or not, there are consequences for your actions and one of which will be a temporary" – Severus emphasized the word temporary – "loss of your cloak. As it seems that you cannot be trusted to use the cloak appropriately, I will hold on to it for you until the end of break."

Harry's eyes still threatened to shed tears, but he wasn't holding the cloak as tightly anymore.

"My decision on that is final," Severus said, "the cloak will be temporarily confiscated. And if it is not in my hand within the next minute, you will lose it for three full weeks instead of one in a half. And if I have to physically take it from you, your rear end will suffer for it."

"Fine!" Harry snapped, holding out the cloak to Severus. He quickly wiped away and escaped tear then crossed his arms as Severus folded the cloak and placed it on his desk in his study. When he returned to the living room, he pointed to the sofa, and Harry plopped down miserably. Severus decided not to scold the boy on the way he had handed over the cloak, considering it was the child's father's and a very treasured possession.

"Now," Severus said, sitting in the chair across from Harry, "on to your little late-night adventure. Why did you leave these rooms and what were you doing in the library, Potter?"

"I wasn't in the library," Harry quickly stated, still pouting in his seat.

"Do you take me for a fool, Potter? Sit up, wipe that look off your face, and for once spit out the truth."

Harry sniffed loudly, though he sat up and tried to look as mad as Severus, failing miserably.

Severus raised an eyebrow. "And this couldn't have waited until morning? When you could have asked me for permission to go to the library. What was so important about your homework that you had to go to the library at this time of night?"

"You said we'd be leaving early to go to your house," Harry said quickly. "I just wanted to make sure I got to the library before we left."

During dinner earlier that evening, Severus had informed Harry that they would leave for his hometown the next day – the next evening.

"I believe you would have had plenty of time tomorrow morning or even tomorrow afternoon to look up this information. And what exactly were you looking up? Filch reported to me you were in the restricted section."

"I . . ."

"Do not deny it," Severus drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. "What were you doing in the restricted section? Do I need you to write: the restricted section in the library is off-limits a hundred times?"

"No," Harry shook his head, "I just didn't know where else to look for the information."

"What was the question?"

"I . . . what?"

"The question you were trying to look up. The whole reason you went to the library and disobeyed several rules I put in place for you not only to keep track of where you are but to ensure your safety in a large, empty castle. Or . . . were you lying to me about why you were out of bed?"

"No-no, I wasn't, the question – err," Harry's eyes seemed to scan the room. "It was about . . . transfiguring . . . inorganic stuff to organic. Professor McGonagall had demonstrated turning a snitch into an apple."

Severus stopped drumming his fingers on the arm of the chair. It was a lie. An obvious lie. He did know that Professor McGonagall demonstrated several skills to her first-year classes to keep them amused while she taught theory and physics to them, so he was sure the part of the snitch to an apple was a truth. But the reason Harry was out of bounds – that was a lie.

But to what advantage did the boy have to lie? Yes, Severus was sure Harry never had an adult figure to confide in or come to with his adolescent problems. And he was sure that had Harry tried in the past, his relatives most likely rebuffed him. And now here Harry was – the best opportunity to learn to trust an adult yet refusing to take advantage of it. Years of betrayal and rejections would do that to a child.

But what a hypocrite he would be to do so.

Severus sighed and dragged a hand down his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. Could he let this one go? Just to show the boy that he was willing to take his word for it? He would still punish Harry – oh, there would always be consequences to his actions. And if Harry every wanted to come clean to him in the near or far future, Severus would be open to him. With consequences, of course.

Besides, it was late, and they were both tired.

Deciding on the best course of action, Severus sighed once more and looked at a squirming Harry, who stopped moving and sat up and alert.

"So, you went to the restricted section under your cloak to find a book with answers on transfiguring inorganic matter to organic for your friend, Miss Granger?"

Harry nodded, "I didn't know where else to look."

"And you thought it best to go in the middle of the night because I had informed you that we would be leaving for my house tomorrow evening?"

Harry's face looked guiltier as the boy nodded again, "Yes, sir. And I'm really sorry."

"Sorry doesn't cut it, young man," Severus said sternly. He saw Harry wince at his tone, but he continued. "You broke several rules for something that could have easily been dealt with tomorrow had you simply asked me. You don't have to solve every problem you encounter yourself. I could have helped answer your question or directed you to the correct books. Any one of those books in the restricted section could have harmed you. You could have been sucked into those pages and never be seen again and we'd have no idea where or what happened to you, Potter. Do you realize that?"

Harry's eyes were wide, and he was pale as he shook his head. "No sir, I had no idea! The book just screamed at me and I –"

"Then you are very lucky," Severus growled. "And to be wandering around at this time of night in the castle. It's against the rules when the castle is full of students and staff, and it is most certainly forbidden when the castle is empty. There are four staff members remaining in this castle, one of which is me, and I am responsible for your wellbeing during the break. What if something had happened to you? I wouldn't have known because I believed you to be safe in your bed and the likelihood that one of the other three staff would have chanced upon you is slim to none, especially when you have that blasted cloak over you. Anything could have happened to you, the stairs could have shifted and you'd be lost. You could have gone into a vanishing room and disappeared altogether. You could have been injured by the books or worse."

"I'm sorry," Harry said, a couple tears trailing his cheek.

"As I said, sorry doesn't cut it. To me, Potter." Severus crooked a finger at the boy.

More tears escaped Harry's eyes as the boy shook his head and pulled his knees to his chest.

"Do not make me get up and grab you, young man. You made several poor choices tonight and you will pay the consequences for them. Now, to me. If I have to get you, you will receive double of what I intend to give you."

"Please, sir," Harry cried, "I really am sorry. Can't you just . . . maybe ground me or . . ."

"My ways of discipline are not up for debate. And what would I ground you from?" Severus crooked his finger at Harry again.

Harry shrugged as he reluctantly stood and slowly made his way over to Severus. "I don't know," he said, "the toboggan?"

"You'd want me to ground you from something you had just received for Christmas?" Severus raised an eyebrow at Harry.

"Well," Harry toed the hard floor as he paused in front of Severus, "not really."

"And you're barefoot," Severus observed, "you could have cut your feet while you were romping around. How were you to know there wasn't any broken glass from the decorations?"

Harry shrugged.

Severus reached for the boy, but Harry stepped back and out of his reach. Severus refrained from snapping at Harry and instead said, "the quicker we get started, the sooner it'll be over with. The longer you stall, the longer you and I will be here."

"But I don't want you to . . ." Harry swallowed, "this is for babies."

"Well, then it's for kids."

"And what do you call yourself, Potter?"

"I'm a . . . well, I'm almost a . . . I don't want a smacking."

"Then you'll do your best to avoid one in the future. Now, back to me. Let's get this over with."

Harry gulped and stepped closer enough for Severus to grab him and pull him to the man's side.

"One more thing, Potter," Severus said, "do not ever back away from me as you did when I reached for you."

"Yes sir," Harry said.

And then Severus tipped Harry over his knees. Twelve painful smacks over the pajama cladded bottom later, Severus stood a sobbing Harry to his feet. Before Severus could say anything, Harry lurched forward, wrapping his arms around Severus's neck and crying into the man's shoulder. Severus froze. What was he supposed to do now? His first impulse was to shove Harry away, but he was sure that would end in a more distraught child.

Hesitantly, Severus raised his arms around the boy, slowly circling the smaller body. He held Harry against him and waited, hoping his actions spoke enough for his lack of words. He waited, allowing Harry to pull himself together.

Several minutes passed and Harry quieted.

"I'm really sorry," the boy muttered without pulling away.

"I know," Severus said, "but you have been punished and forgiven."

Harry was quiet and still holding on to Severus, so the man waited. Finally, Harry pulled back and Severus released him. Harry wiped at his face and eyed the floor.

"I hope we do not have to repeat this lesson," Severus said.

Harry shook his head, his eyes still downcast.

"And as I've said about the cloak, it is mine until the end of break. You will have it back before school starts up again. However, if I catch you misusing it, I will keep it from you until the end of the school year, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said, a hand slyly reaching back to rub at his bottom. Harry looked down again, a frown on the boy's face.

"Professor?" Harry stated softly.

"Yes?" Severus raised an eyebrow.

"When I was out tonight . . ."

"Look up when you are speaking to me, Potter," Severus said.

Harry slowly lifted his head, his eyes meeting Severus's.

"You were saying?" Severus prodded.

Harry licked his lips and said, "When I was out tonight, I found . . . something."

Harry fell silent once more and Severus narrowed his eyes.

"No," Harry quickly shook his head, taking an unconscious step back. "No. At least I don't think so. I found a mirror."

"A mirror?" Severus wondered if he was supposed to amazed by this piece of information.

"It had some strange words on it but when I looked in it, I saw . . ."

Harry bit his lip and his eyes glanced at the door. Severus wondered if Harry was thinking of making a run for it. The child was acting strange to say the least. Harry shifted on his feet, rocking on his heels and biting at his lip. Hoping to ease the boy's anxiety and get him to confess to whatever he was trying to say, Severus reached out a hand and wrapped it around Harry's wrist, pulling the boy closer, then reached around Harry and patted the boy's back a couple times.

"What did you see, Harry?"

Harry's eyes met Severus's as Harry said, "My parents."

Severus took in a sharp breath. The mirror of Erised. Albus had mentioned the mirror to him and Minerva earlier on in the break but said nothing of his plans with it. Of course, Harry would find it in his many adventures. What Harry saw in the mirror did not surprise Severus in the least.

"But there was more," Harry continued. "I saw . . . a lot of people. People I didn't recognize. I guess they might have been my grandparents and cousins or whatever, but my parents were there. Mum and Dad were smiling at me and they seemed so proud and . . ."

Harry had more tears in his eyes and Severus blamed his exhaustion on his next action. He reached around the boy and pulled Harry into an embrace. Harry wrapped his arms around Severus's neck.

"I miss them so much," Harry whispered.

"I know," Severus said, patting Harry's back a couple times.

A long quiet moment passed before Harry pulled away.

"There was someone else," he said after wiping at his eyes.

"Someone you recognized?" Severus asked. "Or just someone else?"

"Someone I recognized," Harry said.

"And who might that be?"

Harry looked back down at the ground, rubbing his cold feet against each other. Then, he shrugged and said, "I guess I don't know him."

"That's fine," Severus said, "the Potter line was extensive, though it had been dwindling by the time your father was born. It's late and you've had a long day. Head to your room. I expect you asleep when I come in to check on you in a few."

Harry offered Severus a small smile.

"Goodnight, sir."

"Goodnight, Potter."

Severus watched Harry shuffle to his bedroom before he stood and headed to the kitchen. He needed a long drink after that emotional outburst. Severus poured himself a nightcap. It was the first time Harry had ever initiated a hug from him. And then he had hugged the boy once more. It may have been to comfort the distraught child, but it had been a hug, nonetheless. What was the boy doing to him?

Severus took a long sip, pausing in thought. That child was going to be the death of him.

Another long sip.

Severus walked over to Harry's closed door. It had been about five minutes now. He slowly turned the knob and pushed open Harry's door. He slowly strode across the room up to Harry's bed. The boy wasn't in a deep state of sleep yet and shifted slightly in the bed, blurry eyes peering up at him.

"Glad to see you where you are supposed to be," Severus commented.

"Sir?" Harry's sleep filled voice asked.

"Hmm?"

"Hypothetically speaking, if I did see you in the mirror, not that I did but if I had, what would that mean?"

Severus felt a million images rush to the forefront of his brain, making him feel dizzy. He clumsily stepped back, his eyes never leaving the green glow of Harry's. There was no way Harry had seen him – him, the miserable potions professor who made Harry's first few weeks at Hogwarts a living hell – in the mirror of Erised. This was hypothetical, as the boy had said. Harry was just curious as to what the mirror meant. He was trying to figure out why he had seen his parents. That was it. He should have explained the mirror more to Harry earlier.

"The mirror you encountered was the mirror of Erised, Harry," Severus explained. "It shows your deepest desires. And yours was your parents. But none of it was real, Harry. I know you miss them, but the mirror will not bring them back."

"I know," Harry said, yawning. "And you?"

"And I?" Severus frowned. "I don't know. If you had seen me, Harry, I don't know what it would mean."

Harry blinked up at Severus, smiled, then rolled over and closed his eyes.

Severus felt shaky, his heart was thundering in his ears, and he gulped the drink still in his hand. Turning and leaving the room, Severus went into the bathroom and splashed his face with water, urging himself to take deep breaths. Dark memories were rising, and he shook his head to clear his thoughts.

Had Harry seen him in the mirror?

Severus knew Harry wanted his parents. He knew Harry craved for some kind of parental care he had never had before. But him? Severus couldn't be that for Harry. A mentor, maybe. But nothing more. Besides, he didn't know how to be, and he certainly didn't have the best examples to follow from.

But this was all hypothetical. He was getting himself worked up for nothing.

Harry hadn't seen him in the mirror.

He couldn't have.

Chapter Text

Severus watched Harry slide down the small hill at the playground for the fifth time with the red toboggan. He sighed, leaning an elbow into the side rail of the park bench and resting his head in his hand. He smiled softly at Harry's happy smile as the boy dragged the toboggan up the hill again, another boy joining him with a green toboggan. They chatted for a bit before racing each other down the hill.

Severus glanced at his watch and figured another ten minutes of play would be fine for Harry. His mind wandered to the events of the last few days with Harry in his house on Spinner's End. The boy hadn't seemed impressed with his home's location, making a face that Severus threatened to smack off if the boy didn't wipe it off. But when he gave Harry his own room, the boy's face lit up, his eyes glistening, and then he hugged Severus tightly. Over a bedroom.

That had been the first day at his house. He had given Harry a brief tour of his home, banning him from his lab, study, and bedroom unless he had his permission to enter, which was highly unlikely to happen. Harry loved the small library on the first floor, and Severus would find Harry reading in the room each evening before bedtime, which Harry took well, considering Severus had set it for nine o'clock. Young boys needed their sleep.

Severus snorted as he remembered the shocked look Harry had given him when he had made a dinner of meatloaf with buttered potatoes and a cucumber salad. Obviously, the idea that the snarky potions professor was able to cook was just too mind blowing for the hero of the wizarding world. Twice Harry had asked if he could make a meal himself, and Severus allowed him after making sure the boy actually knew how to cook. He had made decent meals, and while the thought of Harry cooking for his relatives and not getting a bite made Severus want to forbid Harry from stepping one foot into a kitchen, Harry seemed to enjoy the task.

The first four days went smoothly, aside from a cheeky comment here and there, Severus found that he did not mind Harry's presence. The child even managed to convince him to play a game of chess with him, which Severus won fair and square.

It was quiet in the house.

Which was nothing unusual, Harry had been well behaved the previous four days. After being allowed to leave from Hogwarts early to go home, Severus had been looking forward to some peace and quiet from students and other professors. However, Severus had a feeling that a house should not be so quiet when a Potter was living in it. He would just take a status report on the boy and get back to his potion brewing. Casting a stasis charm on his potion he was brewing, Severus exited his lab and decided to check the library first. Harry did seem to enjoy the library.

Severus knew the majority of the books in the library were potions related, but he had a good selection of Muggle classics along with a couple wizarding books. Opening the door to his library, Severus glanced around. Harry wasn't in any of the comfy chairs near the fireplace, which had a steady fire going. A book lay halfway open on a nearby table. Severus frowned. Harry was here, the fireplace only lit up when there was a presence around and it extinguished itself after ten minutes of no body presence. So where did the little troublemaker go?

Severus shut the door and checked the kitchen.

Empty.

The living room, then. He did have a muggle TV and he was sure Harry never had such luxury at his relatives. Maybe the boy had found some cartoons to watch.

But no, the living room was Potter-free.

Severus sighed, and decided just to glance around upstairs. He ignored his study, believing Harry wouldn't dare disobey his rules so soon. He'd give the boy the benefit of the doubt, though last time he had been wrong. He was hoping the boy learned from his last punishment about breaking his rules.

Upstairs, the boy's room door was ajar, and Severus peeked inside. No Harry. He turned away and was about to knock on the bathroom door when out of the corner of his eye, he saw the ladder pulled down from the attic access door at the end of the hall. He felt fury well up inside him as he made a beeline for his attic. He realized he hadn't banned Harry from the attic, but he didn't mention it to the boy either. He should have locked it.

Harry jumped and spun around, his elbow knocking into the cauldron, knocking it off the table and sending the contents flying out. Severus ran to Harry and pulled him away, covering the boy as the potion's fumes ignited and blew, blasting the cauldron to shattered bits that rained down on the two, Severus's back shielding Harry from most of the shards. Once everything had calmed again, Severus released Harry and looked at the table, biting his inner cheek at the mess the small explosion had caused. He shook his head as he tried to fight back his anger and not lash out at Harry.

"I-I'm sorry," Harry tried, wincing at the damage.

Severus said nothing, just pulled out his wand and used a cleaning charm to gather up all the shards. He scanned the table for his journal that held all his notes he had on that particular potion he had been working on. He found its binding and picked it up, only for the pages to fall apart in shreds away from the bind, some pieces singeing slightly. He dropped the binding. A couple years of hard work wasted.

"I am sorry, sir," Harry tried.

Severus didn't turn, just crossed his arms and glared at the mess before frustratedly closing his eyes. If he faced Harry, he would not be responsible for what he did to the brat.

"Sir?"

"Get out," Severus snapped without moving.

"But I could help clean or –"

"You've done enough. Get out – now! So help me, Potter, if you are not out of this room in the next three seconds, I will beat you senseless! Go."

Harry took a step back from the threat, his eyes watering, then he turned and rushed down the ladder, trying hard not to cry, but Severus could hear him failing. He ignored the boy's sniffling though as he dragged a hand down his face. He knew he shouldn't have snapped at the boy like that or threatened him as so, but that journal held very important data he had spent so many months collecting.

The potion was useless, he had brewed it during the summer before Hogwarts had even started and it had been botched. It was an experimental one anyway. He should have disposed of it then, instead of forgetting it and leaving it to sit and become more unstable through the months. But that journal . . .

Severus had been trying to invent a potion that would erase specific memories without any harmful side effects or without causing oblivion. It was for his own personal use, but he was sure if he could succeed with it, it would sell well, especially to Mind Healers.

And now, all that work was lost. Everything he had been working on for two years now, gone. And he was furious. Yet, he tried to convince himself that Harry had not known what the potion was, that the boy was just curious and following his Potter instincts of causing trouble. Yes, he was angry, but he couldn't take that anger out on Harry.

His front door slammed shut.

Nor could he lose Harry.

Severus swore under his breath and ran out of the attic, pausing in front of Harry's room to note that Harry wasn't there. The boy's suitcase was also missing.

"Damn it, Potter," Severus muttered as he rushed down the stairs and opened his front door, looking down the street to see the young boy running with his suitcase. Severus's anger had dissipated, replaced with sudden concern and fear for the boy. He looked around to make sure no muggles were out or peeking through their window shades.

"No, let me go," Harry cried, pounding his fist into Severus's chest.

"Stop it, Potter," Severus said, capturing the small fist in his own hand. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Running away, what does it look like?" Harry glared up at Severus.

"It looks to me like a very disobedient boy."

"I didn't mean to ruin that potion. I didn't know that would happen, I swear."

"I am not angry about that," Severus cut Harry off. "Well, yes, I'm angry that all my hard work the last couple years is gone, but I am not angry with you. As you said, you did not know what it was and that it would explode, but I should have told you the attic was off limits and locked the door. That is on me."

"But you yelled at me. You said . . ."

"I know what I said. I was angry in the moment and you just happened to be an unfortunate target."

Harry said nothing, just looked down at his boot covered feet. The cold winter wind blew around them, and Harry shivered.

"You're not wearing a coat," Severus observed, moving his hand from his hold on Harry's arm to the boy's shoulder. He gently turned the boy around to walk him back to the house. "Come, let's head back and –"

"No," Harry stated, planting his feet firmly down.

"Young man, do not –"

"I don't want to go back. I ruin everything."

"What on earth are you blabbering about?"

Harry sniffed as he fought back tears.

"You're the-the first person who ever cared about how I was treated and you l-let me stay at Hogwarts and then at your house and I've been nothing but trouble and I ruined your potion – my relatives were right, I'm such a b-burden. I should just run away and save you the trouble."

Severus sighed as Harry hid his face behind his hands, his shoulders shaking, but Severus couldn't tell if it was from crying, shivering, or both.

"You didn't ruin that potion," Severus said softly, resting a hand on Harry's shoulder as if that would stop him from shaking so. "I did."

Harry peeked out behind his fingers at Severus in disbelief.

"It was an experiment I was working on back in the summer. It didn't work and I never got around to disposing of it. So it's been sitting and stewing in the attic all this time, becoming more unstable. That's why it exploded so easily when you knocked into it by accident. My journal was destroyed as a result, but I should have taken the necessary precautions of keeping you out of the attic. That is on me. You could have been hurt Harry, and all because I was too lazy to pick up after myself and decided not to lock the attic door."

"But I shouldn't have gone up in the first place," Harry decided.

"No, you shouldn't have, but you are just a kid with a strong curiosity. I am surprised you didn't find your way up there sooner. To tell you the truth, if I had to spend my Christmas break with my old potions professor, I would have been everywhere the old man said not to be."

"Really? But I am still causing a lot of trouble."

"That's the Potter in you," Severus smirked. "I expected nothing less."

Harry didn't look any happier. "So I am a burden, then."

"Leave your suitcase here," Severus said when Harry looked ready to drag it up the stairs to his room. Harry reluctantly set it by his boots. Severus pointed to the living room and Harry slouched his shoulders but went and sat on the sofa, Severus sitting next to him.

"Sorry," Harry offered, looking down.

"What for?"

"Trying to run away."

"Ah, that," Severus turned slightly so he could face Harry more. "Where exactly did you think you would go?"

"I don't know," Harry shrugged, still looking at the carpet. "I just didn't want to be a burden anymore."

Severus gently took hold of Harry's chin and tilted the boy's head up so he could see the emerald eyes. "Listen to me closely. You are not nor have ever been a burden to me. And I do not want to hear you call yourself such again. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said, his eyes watering at that.

"You are a good boy, Harry," Severus continued, releasing Harry's chin, "and you deserve more than what your relatives gave you growing up. They were the burdens to you, not the other way around."

"I'm really sorry about your po . . . or I mean, your journal."

"I know, but that was an accident. An avoidable one, but an accident, nonetheless. The running away, however . . ."

Harry's eyes widened at the stern look Severus gave him. "I'm sorry about that, too."

Severus pulled Harry's arm until the boy was draped over his lap, Harry squirming and whining slightly. "You will not ever run away from me or this house again, do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand."

"Good," Severus gave Harry one hard smack before lifting him up and sitting him back down on the sofa. Harry winced as his bottom made contact, but he gave Severus a surprised look. Severus ignored it, serious about the no running away but also wanting Harry to understand he was not angry or upset at anything else. "I believe we will not have a repeat of that, now will we?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I'll never runaway again."

Severus nodded and smiled at Harry, a genuine smile. "I want you to know that having you here over the holidays has been the exact opposite of burdensome. I've enjoyed your presence, Harry. I like having you here. And if I had the opportunity of inviting you over again, I would."

Harry felt tears in his eyes again and he tried to discreetly brush them away.

"Really? I like staying with you. You're a lot nicer than my relatives."

"I think a rat colony would be nicer to you than your relatives were."

Harry chuckled at that, then frowned in thought.

"Sir? What was the potion you were experimenting with?"

Severus sighed, thinking about his answer carefully.

"It is a new invention I am working on. Have been working on. It will erase any memory chosen by the drinker, as long as they think of the correct memory."

"Why would someone want to forget their memories?"

"Some memories are worth forgetting, don't you think? I'm sure you have some of your relatives you'd like to forget."

Harry's frown deepened.

"Maybe," he said, crinkling his nose. "But aren't you supposed to forgive and not forget?"

Severus stared at Harry for an intense moment before he snorted and reached out to ruffle Harry's hair. "You are a smart boy, Harry."

Harry smiled at Severus, then asked, "Are you trying to forget something?"

"Many things, Harry," Severus admitted, "many."

Severus did not go into the details of his father's abuse or his mother's neglect and abandonment. He decided Harry did not need that information now. And now, he wondered, if he should even pursue that research anymore. After their talk, Severus sent Harry to take a warm bath while Severus finished cleaning up the attic and then locked the door this time with a special spell. Dinner was a quiet affair and then Harry went to the library to read for a while before Severus sent him up to bed.

Later that night, Severus found himself in his study sitting at his desk, drinking a muggle beer as he contemplated the loss of his journal and where he would go from there. Forgive, not forget. Harry's words still rang in his head. Yes, he had already tried the whole forgiveness thing, yet he struggled with it. Perhaps it was easier for kids to forgive and move on than it was for adults. Sighing, Severus opened his second bottle of beer and began drinking from it. Old habits die hard, and to him, it felt like he was born with his father's habits. He found that in times of stress, especially emotional stress, this was how he coped. Drink himself into the darkness, till he couldn't feel the pain that lingered inside him.

The quiet shuffles of socks on carpet caught Severus's attention. Harry appeared in his doorway, hesitantly looking at him, his eyes slightly red.

"Shouldn't you be asleep, Potter?" Severus asked. "I sent you to bed two hours ago."

"I had a . . . a . . . never mind, I can go back to sleep."

Harry turned away, but Severus stopped him.

"Come here, young man," Severus called out.

Harry gulped, but turned and slowly entered the study, shuffling over until he stood in front of Severus.

"What were you trying to tell me?" Severus asked, though he could take a pretty good guess at what Harry was getting at.

"I had a . . . nightmare," the boy whispered the word, his cheeks turning red.

"That is nothing to be ashamed nor embarrassed about," Severus said. "Everyone has nightmares from time to time."

"Do you?"

Severus took a sip of the beer before answering. "Occasionally. Do you want to talk about yours?"

Harry shook his head, wrapping his arms around himself.

Severus raised an eyebrow at the boy, tilting his head ever so slightly. "Are you sure? It might make you feel better."

"It's stupid," Harry mumbled.

"Dreams are often significant, especially nightmares."

"Well . . . you were in it. And you . . . you . . ."

"I What?"

Harry sniffed as he said, "You gave me back to my relatives. You didn't want me around anymore. You yelled at me and sent me back."

Severus sighed as he set his bottle down. Perhaps the day's events had been harder on Harry than he realized. He had hoped he cleared up any confusion earlier, but it seemed Harry still had those fears deep inside him, haunting him in his dreams. Severus pushes his chair away from his desk slightly.

"Come here, Potter," Severus said.

Harry frowned as he stepped closer, and by the look on his face, Severus was sure Harry expected a smack, though why was beyond the man. Severus gently grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him closer, then lifted the boy onto his lap. Harry seemed surprised and a bit stiff, as if he had never been in the comfort of an adult like this before, but he settled quickly, allowing the man to adjust him. Once satisfied, Severus wrapped an arm securely around Harry and said, "I would never do that, Harry. Ever. You have my promise."

"Never?"

"Never."

When Harry remained quiet, Severus picked up his bottle and took another sip from it. Looking down at Harry, Severus felt a brief moment of surprise at his own actions, but having the small boy in his lap felt natural, and it was comforting to them both, he was sure. He noticed tears well in Harry's eyes; honestly, the boy would cry at the drop of a pin.

"Are you all right, Harry?"

Harry sniffed and smiled. "Yeah, I'm okay." The boy shifted more against him, resting his head on Severus's chest. "I'm okay."

The two day in silence for several long minutes, sharing each other's warmth. Severus has finished his second beer and looked down at Harry. The boy had his eyes closed and his breathing was starting to even out.

"You should go back to your room, Harry," Severus suggested.

"Mm-hmm," Harry agreed without moving.

"I'm serious, young man," Severus said, patting the boy's hip firmly a few times.

"I know," Harry's voice was a whisper as he snuggled impossibly closer into Severus's chest. "I'm going."

A minute later, and Severus knew Harry had fallen asleep. He sighed. "Insolent brat," he muttered. But he didn't wake Harry. He didn't move. Instead, he reached for a third bottle of beer on his desk, picking it up and bringing it towards him. His index finger circled the cap pressed on tightly, and he looked down at Harry's peaceful face. He wanted the drink, he felt that he needed to drink more, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. If Harry had stayed in his room all night, Severus would have felt inclined to do just that, but now that he could see the boy and hold him, he wanted nothing more than to be there for him. And he couldn't be there if he was drunk out of his mind. Old habits did die hard, but if this is what it took to break them, so be it.

Severus set his bottle back down on his desk, then wrapped both arms around Harry. He smiled as Harry moved so slightly, his eyes opening the slightest. Harry smiled up at him and sleepily said, "Love you, pr'fessor." Severus's blinked as Harry's eyes slid close and the boy was back in slumber.

When had that happened? When had their relationship change so much? Severus felt a lump in his throat and he stubbornly swallowed. He snorted as he thought about what James Potter must think of all this, then smiled at what Lily might think of this. He carded his fingers through Harry's hair as he said to the boy:

"How you cripple me, so, Harry. I think I'm growing to love you, too."

Severus pulled out of his thoughts as he watched now six kids sledding down the small hill in the park. Last night, he had carried Harry to bed, and the boy woke up this morning with seemingly no memory of what he had said to Severus, though he did remember sitting in his professor's lap and had blushed furiously. Severus himself had been preoccupied with thoughts of the mirror of Erised, and if Harry's question had not been hypothetical at all. Severus decided that it would be a good day to relax and take a break from his school work and just have fun. Harry needed some exercise after being cooped up in the house. And now here he was making friends with the neighborhood kids.

And here he came now. Severus frowned as Harry came running over to him, leading five other kids behind him. That boy couldn't go anywhere without making a fan club of followers.

"Professor," Harry greeted, an unsure smile on his face. Severus raised an eyebrow to show he was listening. "Can me and the others come back here tomorrow around two?" The five children, all between ten and twelve, smiled at him as they waited for his response, some shivering, some with rosy cheeks.

"May my friends and I," Severus couldn't help but correct. Harry blushed and quickly fixed his statement, repeating his question. Severus held back a snort at how easy Harry was to embarrass. "I don't see why not. I'm sure we can fit it in your schedule."

"Thank you, sir!" Harry smiled. He turned to the other children. "I'll be here at two."

The kids whooped and turned away, running in different directions with trailing toboggans. A couple called out, "Mum, Harry's dad said they could come back . . ."

Severus noticed Harry blush at that and hunch his shoulders as he tried to explain, "Sorry, I didn't tell them you . . . err . . ."

"What is there to tell them?" Severus asked, raising an eyebrow again as he stood. He smiled and ruffled Harry's hair, making the boy smile. "We should head home. You look like your freezing. I shouldn't have let you play in the snow for three hours."

"I'm f-fine," Harry shivered.

"I'll be the judge of that. You will have a warm cup of chocolate when we get home, as well as some potions to ward off any colds."

Harry made a face, dragging the toboggan behind him as he followed Severus. "I don't think I need any potions, sir."

"You'll do as I say and take what I give you."

"Yes, sir," Harry have a defeated sigh.

"And after dinner, I would like you to finish up that essay on inorganic matter to organ transfiguration. I would like to look it over and make sure you are thorough enough to answer Miss Granger's question."

"Aww, do I have to? It's already two feet and it's so boring."

"Do not whine. And yes, seeing as how it was so important, you had to do late night research."

"Well, I just . . . it's . . ."

"Something you'd like to confess, Potter?"

"No, I'll finish the essay."

"Very good. We have five days left of vacation, then it's back to classes. Think you can last that long without any trouble?"

"I've gone longer without trouble. You just always think I'm in trouble."

"Mind your cheek or you will be in trouble."

"See?"

"Potter," Severus warned as they came up to the house.

"Sorry, I'll stop."

Severus rolled his eyes as he opened the door, ushering Harry inside. And to think he had been so against the idea of a Potter in his home.

Chapter Text

"Is there a reason you have the Daily Prophet before I've even had a chance to look at it?" Severus asked, glaring down at the boy sitting at the table. Since when was Harry awake before he was?

"Sorry," Harry said, folding the paper and sliding it to the head of the table as Severus sat down. "I couldn't sleep well last night. Guess I'm ready for classes to start up again tomorrow. I was looking at the page with the cartoons and riddles."

"By all means, finish them," Severus said, pushing the paper back to Harry.

The boy smiled but went to the kitchen and came back with two plates of breakfast.

"I made breakfast," he said as he set two plates of scrambled eggs and toast down in front of himself and Severus. Severus raised an eyebrow.

"Eggs again? You go through a carton of eggs faster than Hogwarts kitchen."

"I like eggs."

"So I see."

Harry opened the paper back up to the cartoon page and smiled at the riddles. Severus almost asked Harry to set it aside and eat first, but Severus himself would often read and eat at the same time, so he refrained. Having nothing to do since Harry had the paper, Severus watched Harry smile at the jokes and riddles he was reading while he ate.

"Hey, Professor," Harry asked, a big grin on his face.

"Hmm?"

"What do you call a wizard from outer space that can fly?"

"An unconventional phenomenon."

"A what?" Harry frowned.

Severus snorted, a small chuckle escaping his lips at Harry's confused face. "I don't know, Potter. What do you call a wizard from outer space who can fly?"

"A flying sorcerer!"

Severus smiled at Harry. The thought of riddles reminded Severus that he had his own riddle problem to complete. He had a few more vials of poison and nettle wine to collect for his contribution to the stone's protection in the castle. He would have to drag Harry along on his trip.

"When you are finished with your breakfast, head upstairs and dress for the day," Severus told Harry. "I need to make a stop at Diagon Alley and seeing as it's a little late to arrange for a sitter, you will have to come with me."

"Really?" Harry smiled, then made a face. "I wouldn't need a sitter. I'm not a baby."

"I do not believe I said a babysitter, now did I?"

"I don't need a sitter at all. I'm too old for one."

"I would not leave you here alone."

"Why not? I'd be good. It's not like I'd leave or burn the house down or go in your lab or something."

"The very fact that any of those ideas crossed your mind is concerning enough. Now, finish your breakfast and do as I've said."

"Yes, sir."

Harry pushed the paper aside and finished his food before heading to his room to dress. Severus pulled the paper to himself and folded it to the front page to read the news while he waited for Harry to return. Once Harry was ready, Severus pulled a cloak over his shoulders, making sure Harry had one, and led the boy to the floo and called out their destination, keeping a firm grip on Harry's shoulder. Once they arrived at their destination, Severus quickly tapped Harry's head with his wand, changing the boy's hair to a lighter brown and his eyes turned blue. The boy's glasses squared out a little and the scar concealed itself.

"Why . . .?" Harry looked in a mirror at himself.

"I do not have the time for incessant questions from nosey passersby nor do I want a fan mob slowing us down."

"Oh. So why are we here?" Harry asked eagerly as they walked into the busy street of Diagon Alley, wizards and witches alike calling out to each other, children whining about the grocery lists and the want for candy, several owls flying above everyone with parcels and letters.

"I am stopping at the apothecary for a few essential ingredients I need."

"What for?"

"That is none of your concern."

Harry huffed but said nothing. Severus noted that Diagon Alley was busier than usual, possible due to Hogwarts starting back up again and students collecting a few extra items beforehand. He reached out and pulled Harry close to his side.

"Stay close and do not leave my side."

"Yes, sir."

Severus continued to the apothecary, occasionally looking down at Harry to make sure the boy was still with him. Harry seemed intrigued by the magic all around him, even after attending Hogwarts for the past four months. His eyes were wide and his attention elsewhere, and Severus had to snap at the boy to watch where he was going a couple times.

Finally, he two arrived at the apothecary and Severus pulled Harry inside, reminding the boy to stay close. Harry sighed, but did as he was told. Severus searched the aisles for what he needed. Nettle wine, it was usually on the third shelf near the front of the store – there it was. Severus eyed the vials of the ingredient. He then spotted the wall that had a collection of venoms and poisons. He studied every name carefully. He wanted to pick a good poison, perhaps one that didn't kill right away. Arsenic would have been his first choice, but maybe he didn't want to kill whoever went after the stone at all. Was there a poison that would debilitate the man long enough for someone to catch him in the act? What about more muggle poisons – antifreeze came to mind. Sweet tasting, that would through anyone off when they first drink it, but . . .

Severus shook his head, shaking the thoughts away. Sometimes, it paid to have so much knowledge. A basic poison should do the trick fine. He collected a few and headed to the counter to pay for them. Once he was finished, he suddenly remembered Harry and looked down.

Harry was not at his side.

Severus swiveled his head around, trying to spot the boy in the store somewhere. But Harry was not in the apothecary with him.

That insolent, trouble causing brat.

Severus pulled out his wand and cast a locator charm. "Find Harry Potter," he hissed through his teeth, moving out of the shop. His wand tugged him own the street. He followed, feeling his heart quicken when the tug pointed at the narrow alleyway that led to Knockturn Alley. He lowered his wand to his side inconspicuously but continued to follow it, lifting the hood of his cloak over his head. He turned down the less busy street of the retched alley, no one paying him any mind.

He spotted Harry up ahead, a few witches laughing and mocking the young boy, a couple wizards eyeing him from where they leaned on a nearby building. Harry seemed uneasy and a bit frightened as he searched for an exit.

Severus stalked forward slowly and watched as a couple wizards walking down the alley smirked at the child, veering toward Harry. Severus hurried his steps and managed to come up behind Harry, covering the boy's mouth with a hand and grabbing the boy's arm with his other hand. Harry squeaked as he brought his hands to the hand over his mouth to pry it away.

"Make any sound and you'll find yourself chopped to pieces for use in several potions," Severus said, loud enough for the few witches and wizards to hear, who snickered and walked on, leaving them. What happened in Knockturn Alley, stayed there.

Even with the threat, Harry visibly calmed at Severus's voice. Keeping a grip on Harry's arm, Severus turned and dragged Harry back to Diagon Alley. He didn't release the boy until he had found a public restroom and entered, pushing the boy inside. Severus felt a wave of anger hit him as he turned and locked the door behind them, leaning up against the door in sagged relief. Harry was okay and safe. In deep trouble, but safe.

"Do you think they'll try to come after me?" Harry asked, a bewildered look on his face at Severus's actions.

Severus turned and glared at Harry, pulling the hood off. He crossed his arms as he stepped over to the boy with purposeful strides.

"They're the least of your worries," Severus growled. "I told you to stay with me."

Harry backed up slightly, suddenly finding himself pressed back against the wall.

"But . . ." Harry bit his lower lip, hunching his shoulders as Severus stepped closer. "I didn't mean to . . . I was just going . . . Professor, wait."

Severus didn't give Harry any chance to explain himself before he yanked Harry to him, pinning the boy against his side and bringing his hand down repeatedly over the boy's bottom.

"Ow! Professor, stop." Harry struggled in his grip. "Not here, please. Ow, someone might hear."

Severus ignored the boy, eavesdroppers being the least of his concern.

"I told you to stay with me," he said again. "Not take off to Knockturn Alley of all places!"

"I didn't know bout that place," Harry reasoned, still struggling to move his bottom out of range. "I just wanted to – I mean I thought . . . ow! Professor, please, I'm sorry."

Harry was softly crying by the time Severus pulled the boy up, keeping a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Explain yourself this instant."

"Why?" Harry sniffed miserably. "You already smacked me."

"And I will do so again if I don't get some answers out of you. What were you doing in Knockturn Alley?"

"I didn't mean to go there. I was standing with you when I saw someone carrying a book called The Beauty of Alchemy by Nicolas Flamel."

"And what does that have to do with you or anything from school?"

"Well . . ." Harry gulped. "I thought I could ask the witch carrying the book some questions about err – alchemy. I was curious."

"So, you thought it best to follow that witch, leave my side which I told you numerous times not to, and end up in a dangerous part of this area all for a silly question that you could have easily asked me!"

"I'm sorry." Harry had tears sliding down his cheeks. "She vanished around some corner and I got lost. I just want to know what that man has to do with the three headed dog." Harry gasped and slapped a hand over his mouth.

A lightbulb went off over Severus's head, though he had had his suspicions. He pinned Harry with a stern glare, looking down his nose at the boy as his hands rested on his hips.

"And the truth spills out. You know about the dog? Dare I ask how you found out? In fact, that night at the library had nothing to do with transfiguration, did it?'

"No, sir."

"You were looking for more information about Nicolas Flamel and what he may have to do with the dog. How did you learn of the name?"

Harry shook his head, more tears falling from his eyes.

"Potter," Severus growled.

"Hagrid said it – but it was an accident, he didn't mean to tell us – I mean me. Honest. And I accidentally went to third floor corridor and saw the dog. I didn't mean to, honest!"

Severus was furious with himself, with Hagrid, with Albus – obviously the Golden Trio knew about Nicolas Flamel and the dog in the corridor. Severus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I find it hard to believe you are being completely honest when all you've done is lie to me thus far, Potter."

"I am though, sir. And I'm sorry. I was just trying to find more information."

"Let me tell you this, young man," Severus said, pointing a stern finger at Harry. "You will no longer concern yourself with Nicolas Flamel, he has nothing to do with you or your friends. You will stay away from that corridor and the dog, do you hear me? If I find that you have been messing around with Nicolas Flamel or have gone near that corridor again, what I just gave you will feel like love pats in comparison to the spanking you'll get, understand?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said. "But can't I know anything? Why is there a three headed dog in the school? It has to be guarding something, right?"

Severus looked off to the side, debating if it would be better to keep Harry in the dark or not. For all he knew, the boy would be back searching for answers once they were in Hogwarts.

"It is," Severus answered. "Something that is of no concern to the students and will hopefully be relocated out of the school soon. You have nothing to worry about with what the dog is guarding or the dog itself. You will not pursue this any further, is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

Severus dragged a hand down his face, watching Harry reach back and rub his bottom, wincing slightly. He felt a bit guilty to be the cause of the boy's discomfort. He blinked as he recognized the feeling. Before he had never felt such a way after disciplining Harry. In fact, he had felt satisfaction. Now, he really didn't enjoy smacking the boy. Harry tried so hard to be good and please the adults around him. Now, when he smacked Harry, he just felt . . . disappointed. Harry sniffed loudly and used his sleeve to swipe at his nose.

"Use a tissue," Severus said, pointing to a box resting on the sink counter. Harry did so, blowing his nose. Severus watched him for a moment before saying, "I am very disappointed in your behavior this morning, young man."

Harry froze and stared at Severus, his lower lip trembling and his eyes watering. Severus ignored it, knowing the impact those words alone could have on a young child.

"Pull yourself together so we can leave this restroom," Severus said gently.

Harry used a tissue to wipe at his eyes before he followed Severus out of the bathroom and back into Diagon Alley, keeping his head down to avoid any looks.

Later that night, Severus sat in his living room drinking a nightcap, a warm, crackling fire in the fireplace. Just a nightcap tonight. One glass of a muggle beer, no more. He drank it slowly, trying to satisfy his urge to drink more. His body felt like it needed more alcohol running through it – it would take days to wean himself off the large amount he had drank before and even longer to wean himself off alcohol completely. Which was probably in his best interest.

It had been a long day. Once they had returned home, Severus sent Harry to his room to finish packing for tomorrow. The boy had been very quiet the rest of the day, finishing up homework and making his bed. Severus felt bad for how hard he had been on the boy at Diagon Alley. He had reacted in fear and anger when he had smacked the boy in the restroom, something he probably shouldn't have done.

Noise from the stairway caught Severus's attention and he looked up, seeing Harry halfway down the stairs. He motioned to the boy to come down all the way, waiting until Harry stood in front of him.

"We return to Hogwarts first thing tomorrow morning. You should be asleep."

"I couldn't fall asleep."

"Sit," Severus said, patting the empty space next to him. Harry sat down and looked up at Severus.

"I just want to apologize for my behavior this morning," Harry said so softly Severus had to lower his head slightly to hear him. "I didn't mean to disappoint you."

Severus hummed softly, resting an arm on the back of the sofa behind Harry.

"You have been very well behaved since this morning, albeit a bit withdrawn. I don't want you to lose your spirit, but I do need you to think before you act. Taking off like you did today was very dangerous. You ended up in Knockturn, which is a place full of dangerous people and very shady practices. Anything could have happened to you, you could have been kidnapped. And what if someone broke my concealment charm I had placed on you? They would have found out who you are, and I assure you, they would want more than just an autograph from you."

"I'm sorry."

"I know, and you are forgiven."

"Thank you." Harry smiled. "And thank you for letting me stay with you. I really liked it here."

"And I enjoyed having you here," Severus admitted, pausing to take a sip of his nightcap. "However, I must warn you: when we return to Hogwarts, I will treat you as I always have in the classroom."

"Really? Why?"

"For reasons I won't delve into now. But I need you to understand that what I will do is not honest or with malicious intent. It's just . . ."

"Acting?" Harry supplied.

"Yes. Acting. It is something I need to do to keep you and everyone else safe, including myself. Do you understand that?"

"I guess," Harry shrugged, looking down at his bare feet. "You are pretty good at acting. You did that in Knockturn Alley when you found me, right? So no one would suspect who you were or question what you were doing?"

"I'm sure many people questioned my actions, but in that alley, no one would say a word to stop me. Nor would they say a word to stop anyone who dared approach you. Hence why you should never have been there or left my side today."

"I'm glad you found me," Harry said.

"I am, too."

"I'll hate it at school. Does this mean you're always going to be mean to me?"

"Remember, it's just acting. And no, if you absolutely must, you may come down to my office or my quarters whenever you need to. You know where they are."

"Really? Anytime?"

"Not after curfew. Unless you have a very good reason."

"Yes, sir. Thank you so much, sir."

Harry slowly rested his head against Severus's shoulder, seemingly glad when Severus didn't shrug him off. Harry smiled softly and closed his eyes, Severus lowering his arm from the back of the sofa to wrap around Harry's shoulders. The man took another swig of the nightcap, enjoying the warmth of the fire with Harry at his side.

"I'm going to miss it here," Harry said softly, his eyes still closed.

Severus looked down at the boy, a small smile on his lips.

"Perhaps this won't be the last time you visit."

Harry's head snapped open, bright eyes meeting Severus's. "You mean it?"

"I will not make any promises, but I will look into it. We could make this a permanent thing. And you'd never have to go back to your relatives, not even come summer."

Harry blinked at the man. "You mean like . . . I stay here with you?"

"I could apply for guardianship – but it would have to be done under secrecy."

"No one can know."

"Few people would – your relatives would have to sign guardianship over to me, and the Minister of Magic would need to make it official, as well as a witness observing everyone's signatures. But no one else would know. Now, let's not get ahead of ourselves, there is a lot of paperwork involved and this is if I am eligible to pursue guardianship. There is potential that I may be declined and – oof."

Harry had jumped up and latched his arms around Severus's neck, squeezing tightly. Severus reached around the boy, if only to encourage him to loosen up.

"Thank you," Harry said. "I would love that."

"Did you hear what I said, Potter?" Severus said, patting the boy's back.

"I heard," Harry said, pulling back some. "Even if it doesn't work out, you at least want me. And you want to try. That's more than anyone else has ever done."

Severus sighed and smiled at the boy, bringing him back in for a tight embrace. After a moment, they pulled apart, Harry sitting against Severus's side again.

"You should head to bed," Severus said.

"Okay," Harry stood and stretched his arms up, yawning. "Goodnight, sir."

"Goodnight, Harry."

Severus waited until Harry was back up the stairs before groaning to himself. What was he getting himself into? That child had Severus wrapped around his finger. And now he was applying for guardianship. Wonderful. Severus stared into the flames and smiled, knowing he wanted this as much as Harry did.

Chapter Text

It was time to see how well Harry could act. Severus finished grading over the break assignments from his fifth years before setting his quill aside and sighing, running a hand through his hair. Any minute now, his first-year students would start arriving for their lecture. They would start discussing the ingredients needed in the Antidote to Common Poisons. In two weeks, he would have the students brew the potion. An understanding of the ingredients would (should) help the students brew a decent potion the first time.

Severus allowed a small smirk to stretch his lips as he remembered how Harry had complained about needing to finish his essay on inorganic to organic transfiguration.

"But you know the truth now," the boy whined. "Do I really have to? It's so complicated and boring and looooong."

"Quit that infuriating tone," Severus snapped. "You're the one who lied to me, so you will deal with the consequences of that and finish what you started. I expect your essay to be four feet and, on my desk, along with the assignment I gave you before break. Is that clear?"

Harry had grumbled and complained all the way back to Hogwarts but reluctantly agreed to do it. He had yet to see the boy in the last week. Harry was most likely busy catching up with friends and getting homework from his other classes. Severus looked over at the new journal he had begun, replacing the old one that had been fried by the potion's incident in the attic. He had a new idea - a potion that did not erase memories but instead eased the pain that certain memories caused him. He had a list of ingredients to try out already, many based off healing and memory potions. He would have to thank Harry at some point for destroying all his old work. Perhaps some time in the far future. Now certainly wasn't the time for such a discussion.

Noise from the hall caught his attention and Severus put on an annoyed face as the noisy first years made their way to the classroom, many chatting away with friends. Severus put all his work aside and stood, effectively silencing the class and the stragglers still entering. Once everyone sat down, Severus noted that Hermione was in her usual seat, but two boys were missing.

Growling internally, Severus glanced at the clock then at the doorway. Students used the silence to pull out parchment and quills for notes. An entire minute passed, Severus noted, looking back at the clock. Then the two boys in question ran into the classroom, faces flushed and slight pants escaping their lips.

"Late for class so soon after returning from break?" Severus asked, glaring at the boys. "Is our hero too incompetent to be on time? Or was there a damsel in distress you had to save before coming to class?"

"No, sir," Harry shook his head. "We were just . . ."

"I don't want to hear your excuses. You've wasted enough time as it is. Five points from Gryffindor. Take your seats."

Harry's face fell and the boy visibly swallowed before nodding and doing as Severus said. He and Ronald sat next to Hermione, who gave them admonishing looks.

"Pass up your homework on the essential ingredients in the Antidote to Common Poisons," Severus ordered.

The students shuffled for the three-foot assignment and handed it to the student in front of them, passing up the papers to the front of the classroom. Severus walked down the front row of students collecting the papers, reaching the end table where the Golden trio sat. He paused long enough to give Harry a disapproving look as he adjusted the pile of papers in his hands. To any other student, it would have looked like the usual sneer he gave the famous Harry Potter. Harry, however, knew better, but he gave Severus an annoyed look, obviously affronted at not being allowed to explain his lateness.

Severus set the papers on his desk before facing the classroom, folding his arms as he began his lecture.

"Supposing that you all did the homework correctly, you should be able to tell me a bit about each of the ingredients found in the Antidote to Common Poisons."

Hermione's hand shot up in the air.

"Unless I have suddenly gone deaf, Miss Granger, I do not believe I asked a question."

Hermione lowered her arm slowly, her cheeks red but her eyes held disappointment.

Severus scanned the classroom, his eyes narrowing on Neville. That buffoon was a disgrace to the great Aurors his parents had been, and like Harry reminded him of James, Neville reminded Severus of the night the Potters were murdered – how easily the two boys' lives could have been reversed if the Dark Lord had chosen to go after the Longbottoms.

"Longbottom, tell me what moondew is," he ordered, ignoring Hermione's hand that shot up once more.

"Err," Neville dropped his quill clumsily, shifting in his seat. "It's a – a flower . . . a umm, a flowering plant that . . . err . . ."

"Do you know the answer, Longbottom, or are you going to waste my time with your stammers?"

Neville blushed furiously. And suddenly, Harry's hand was in the air with Hermione's, though the boy's face seemed hard and determined. Severus frowned, then looked over at the Slytherin side of the room.

"Mr. Malfoy, an answer if you would."

Draco blinked before saying, "it's a flowering plant that produces nectar commonly used in different potions, sir."

"Precisely, five points to Slytherin." Several students smiled while others rolled their eyes and muttered about unfairness. "The Moondew is a highly valued plant native to the remote areas of Scotland and some parts of Ireland. Its nectar is highly sought after as a valuable ingredient in many sleeping potions. With careful maintenance, the plant can be grown in suitable greenhouses. One of the greenhouses here does have a good cluster thanks to the exceptional care of Professor Sprout. Does anyone know who discovered the magical properties of the moondew and when?"

Hermione raised her hand once more, waving it slightly.

"No one?" Severus glanced around the room, ignoring Hermione. "It should have been mentioned in your homework."

Harry raised his hand as well.

"This truly is disappointing," Severus continued. He was about to answer his own question when Harry's voice cut through the air.

"Why don't you call on someone with their hand raised?"

Everyone snapped their heads in Harry's direction, Severus glaring.

"Telling me how to run my classroom, are we, Mr. Potter?"

"No. Just telling you how to be fair."

The classroom was dead silent, several students too afraid to breathe. Hermione and Ron were staring wide-eyed at Harry. Severus stalked over to the boy's table, Harry's defiant eyes never straying away from Severus's stern eyes.

"While I'm sure you are used to being the center of attention in all your other classes just as your father was," Severus began, his voice low and threatening, "you will find that I am very fair in making sure no one is treated any different from the next student. You may think you are above the rest of us, but I assure you, Potter, you are just another annoying brat."

Harry's eyes were flaming, and the boy's glare deepened.

"Another word from you, Potter, and I will take points. Understand?"

Harry didn't reply. He stared down at his desk.

"Potter, do you understand?"

"You said," Harry glared at Severus, "another word, and you'd take points. Do you understand yourself, Professor? So how many points will it be?"

Severus bit down on his tongue. How dare that insolent, cheeky, imprudent brat. And in front of his entire classroom. Severus knew he was being hard on Harry and the rest of the Gryffindors, but he had informed Harry of what needed to be done. That did not give Harry any right to behave in such a manner during class.

"You will stay after class," Severus said.

"What about the points you're taking?"

"Potter . . ."

"Are you giving me special treatment by not taking points? I thought you wanted to treat everyone fair so . . ."

"Detention, Potter!" Severus snapped. He leaned forward so he was nearly nose to nose with Harry, his black eyes glaring deep in to Harry's green ones. "Was that fair enough for you?"

Harry glared back but kept quiet.

"You will stay after class," Severus said, using the tone that promised a more severe punishment if Harry kept up his attitude. "And any more interruptions from you will land you a week's worth of detentions. Am I clear, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. You are to remain silent for the rest of this class." Standing tall, Severus noticed several students giving him and Harry odd looks. He glared at the class, his anger still stirring around inside him. "Any one else who'd like to add cheeky comments, I suggest you do so now. No? Then let's continue our lecture."

It was a long lecture and everyone was glad to escape the tense atmosphere in the dungeons, some still whispering about Harry's display and how furious Professor Snape was now. Well, everyone who could escape. Harry remained, sitting at his desk, his head rested on his arms. When the last student left, Severus finished arranging a few things on his desk and putting away the samples of moondew he had brought out from the supply closet. Once he was sure everything was organized, he turned his attention to Harry, who didn't even bother to lift his head as Severus glowered down at him in front of the desk.

"What was the meaning of that awful behavior you displayed?"

"Nothing," Harry muttered, not looking at the man.

"You will show me the respect of looking at me, young man," Severus said. When Harry didn't move, Severus leaned into his hands on Harry's desk and enunciated every word. "Look at me."

Harry huffed before sitting up straight and crossing his arms.

"How dare you behave in such a manner? I told you what to expect when school starts back up and this is how you react? You cannot do this every class, or you will set everyone behind schedule. You wasted ten minutes of my class time because of your outburst, and I will not stand for it."

"I didn't know you were going to be as mean as before," Harry said. "You were awful! I know you said it's acting, but I thought you might lighten up, but you were nothing but an arsehole."

Severus was speechless for less than a full twenty seconds. He grabbed Harry by the arm and yanked the boy out of his seat, dragging him over to the brewing tables. He lifted the boy and deposited him on the table, Harry suddenly wary of what was about to happen, though glad he hadn't been smacked yet.

"I think it's time for another lesson, Potter," Severus growled, summoning an empty vial. He turned on a nearby sink and filled the vial with water. When it was half filled, Severus turned the faucet off and pulled out his wand. "There is a spell that changes the flavor of any liquid to any desired taste. So, what shall it be, Potter, to wash that mouth of yours? A sour Lemon? The taste of dirt, maybe?"

Harry's eyes widened and he shook his head.

"I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean to say that, honest."

"Then I suggest you learn to control your temper. Dishwash soap, perhaps?"

"No, I get it. I won't swear again."

"Bar soap, it is, then." Severus decided, flicking his wand at the vial. He handed it to Harry, who used both hands to cover his mouth, shaking his head. "You will take this. Do not swallow, just hold it in your mouth."

"No, I'm sorry."

"I'm sure." Severus rolled his eyes. "Take it now or you will go over my knees after this as well."

Harry made a pitiful face as he slowly took the vial. He swallowed as he brought the vial to his lips and took in the liquid, his face scrunching up.

"Remember, do not swallow. It will not harm you, but it may upset your stomach."

Harry nodded as he handed back the vial, his eyes watering as he held the awful flavored water in his mouth. He looked pleadingly at Severus, who pulled out a pocket watch. "Two minutes," the man said. Harry made a noise in the back of his throat, a tear escaping his eye, the bitter taste no doubt stinging his tongue.

Two minutes passed torturously slow. Finally, Severus nodded and lifted Harry off the table and back to the ground, directing him to the sink. Harry spat out the water and began rinsing his mouth under the faucet, but all too soon, Severus stopped him. The man turned Harry to face him, using a finger under the boy's chin to tilt his head up.

"You will never speak to me in such a way again, do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir." Harry made a face as the taste of soap lingered on his tongue.

"You are lucky I have decided not to smack your backside for your behavior today, but you will report to this classroom tonight at seven to clean some cauldrons. Consider yourself lucky I didn't order you to my office for a mid-lesson smacking."

"Yes, sir."

"Explain to me why you acted out so. I'm sure you knew I would not tolerate such behavior in my classroom."

"I know, but you were being so mean, and I thought you had changed and everything, I just . . . I hated it. I wish it could be like it was over break."

Severus sighed.

"There are reasons it cannot be, Harry," he said, his tone calmer. "You will need to learn to control your temper in these settings. I cannot allow you to start acting out or it will appear suspicious. As if I'm suddenly favoring you."

"You are, kind of."

"I'll pretend I did not hear that."

Harry offered a small smile.

"I know this isn't easy, but we will work on it." Severus rested a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Together."

"How do you do it? And you don't really think I like being the center of attention, do you?"

"I now know you do not. And I have years on my side, experience and practice. I will teach you methods to help calm yourself when I start getting under your skin, which I will do in the future. That is your warning, so be prepared to accept it."

"I'm sorry I acted out. I don't like when you pick on my friends or take points from them."

"Everyone needs to learn something and some need to learn to speak loud and clear. Others need to learn to stop being so insufferable."

"Maybe if you were nicer . . ."

"Maybe if I were nicer," Severus repeated and snorted at the idea. "You are amusing."

"I'm serious."

"I know. That's what makes you amusing. Remember, if you ever need to talk and get some things off your chest, even if it is telling me what an awful professor I am, my door is always open to you. It might help with that temper when class is in session."

"I'll keep that in mind," Harry said. "Are you still considering the guardianship thing? I know I was terrible and all . . ."

"I am still very much considering it. You have nothing to fear about that."

"I told Ron and Hermione. I hope that was okay."

Severus took a deep breath, thinking it over. Naturally, Harry would tell his friends, though he wished the boy had asked him first, but what was done was done. Besides, the Golden trio stuck together well. And Harry needed someone to vent to about the miserable guardian he would be stuck with soon enough.

"As long as they can keep it secret. No one else is to know without my permission."

"I won't tell anyone else. Thanks for understanding."

"Hmm. It is nearing lunch, you should catch up with your friends. I will see you later."

"Yeah. See you later, professor."

Once the door to the classroom shut behind Harry, Severus decided he would speak with Albus about his plans to pursue guardianship. He had put it off long enough now, and he knew he shouldn't wait much longer. It might turn into a long process and he would need the headmaster's help if he was to be granted permission. And if he was declined . . . he needed a plan B. He would have to think on it. Somehow, Harry would become his.

No matter what laws he might have to break.

Chapter Text

The smell of the melted goo caked on the cauldron mixed with the faint scent of soap filled the classroom, stinging Severus's nose slightly and nearly making his eyes water. Severus glanced over at Harry, who was trying hard to scrub the potion residue off, tears trailing down his cheek and his nose scrunched. The boy swiped an arm over his face and sniffed before scrubbing at the cauldron once more. Severus sighed, staring down at the essays he was grading at his desk. He would not admit that he felt sorry for the boy, but he was sure Harry had been punished enough for his behavior in class.

Standing from his desk, Severus walked over to the sink where Harry had successfully managed to clean one and a half cauldrons, the other half of the cauldron he was working on stubbornly refused to shine. Severus paused next to Harry, watching him for a second. The boy scrubbed vigorously.

"Potter," he began.

"I almost got it," Harry muttered.

Rolling his eyes, Severus pulled out his wand and tapped the rim of the cauldron twice, a strong cleansing spell washing over the pewter and leaving a polished gleam. Harry blinked, then glared up at Severus.

"Then why do you make us scrub these if you can just do that?"

"I cleaned that one, too." Harry pointed at the cauldron on the drying rack.

"Fine. Two cauldrons."

Harry glared then looked down at his shoes.

Sighing, Severus motioned the boy to follow him. He walked back over to his desk, waving a hand so a chair flew up for Harry. Sitting behind the desk, Severus waited until Harry was settled in front of him. Shuffling through some parchment, Severus pulled out what he was looking for and handed it to Harry. Harry frowned as he picked it up, blinking as he recognized it.

"My extra credit essay," he said. "You gave me an E?"

"You told your story well, though it could have been structured in a more defined manner and your punctuation needs work, but otherwise, it was more than acceptable. As promised, your overall grade has been raised to a P and I expect better work from you. There will be no more second chances for you."

"Yes, sir. Thank you . . . for everything."

"Do not thank me yet," Severus said, picking up his quill and writing on a blank parchment. "There is still the rest of your detention to be taken care of."

"The rest! But I thought . . ."

"You thought wrong. Here." Severus pushed the parchment over to Harry, along with a new quill. "You will write the sentence at the top a hundred times. Then your detention will be over." Severus began grading more assignments.

"I will not disrupt class again with my cheeky attitude or tantrums. I didn't have a tantrum!"

Severus smirked at the boy. "Indeed. Write your lines."

Harry blinked at the man, obviously surprised that a snarky remark had not been thrown at him or a counterstatement had been presented. Harry mumbled indecipherably as he picked up the quill and began writing the lines. Severus glanced at the child, smiling softly before continuing his grading.

The next day, Severus arrived at the ministry office and strode directly to Fudge's office, ready to make the argument of his life. He entered the man's office without so much as a knock. Fudge groaned.

"Is there a way I ca be rid of you permanently? You're not here because . . ."

"On the account of Potter and his wellbeing?" Severus supplied, crossing his arms as he stood in front of the older man's desk.

"Of course," Fudge sighed. "Look, Professor, I have tried being reasonable and respectful with you, as well as understanding considering this must be a sensitive topic for you, but you cannot just waltz in here without my permission. This is the last time this happens, or I will call the Aurors on you."

"You asked if there was a way to be rid of me," Severus said. "I'm glad to inform you that there is. I would like to pursue guardianship over Harry Potter, and all I need re the correct papers from you."

"Guardianship over the Boy-Who-Lived? Have you lost your mind? The papers would be all over it, especially considering your history."

Severus refrained from rolling his eyes, deciding to go with the mature option of slowly closing them and taking a deep breath. "Which is why it would be done under the table. Obviously, someone with the correct authority would need to officialize it, and that one person would be you. Besides a witness, all the papers need are the signatures of the guardian and the ward. We do not have to have the whole courthouse experience, you know."

Fudge frowned, narrowing his eyes at Severus. He stroked his chin as he shuffled through a side desk drawer, pulling out guardianship papers.

"I see your point, Professor Snape," Fudge said. "And keeping this under the table would be for the best. But I do not believe this is truly in the boy's best interest. Have you really thought this through? Do you think Mr. Potter is so willing to leave his family – despite how awful – to live with you?"

"I have spoken to Harry and he willingly agreed."

"With no coercion?"

"None."

"Hmm. Very well. I shall serve as your witness and Ministry official. Sign here."

Severus felt as if he was under an Imperius curse as he stepped forward and accepted the offered quill. Just like that? Was this for real? His hands shook the slightest as he signed his name in his crisp and sharp way, the last letter in his name coming out a bit squiggled. He stood up tall once more, watching as a swirl of gold flickered above his name, binding it magically. Was this really happening? Had he just done it?

"I'm afraid I must decline," Fudge said, standing and tucking the papers away. "I will review its material with the boy and make sure he understands everything, such as inheritance and legal standings, however, if I am to be sure this is an honest commitment, I must witness the boy sign without your presence. Considering we will not hold a custody court arrangement, things must be done very delicately. Surely you can understand that?"

Severus did, but he felt that he shouldn't leave Harry alone with Fudge. However, he didn't want to be the reason things went south and he was refused guardianship when everything was going so well at the moment. He nodded.

"Very well, if you feel you must. I will receive a copy of everything once it is official?"

"When I sign, you will receive a copy."

Severus nodded, unsure of what else to do or say. Everything seemed too easy all of a sudden. He didn't want to question his luck before it ran out, so he thanked Fudge and left, walking on air the entire way back to Hogwarts.

He should have known better.

It was nearing Saturday evening when firm knocks on Severus's office door caught the man's attention. When Severus opened the door, Harry stomped in and glared at the man.

"Is it true?" the boy demanded, tears in the child's eyes. "You've been lying to me this whole time! I thought . . ."

"Excuse me?" Severus snapped, shutting the door behind them. "What are you talking about?"

"Someone came here with papers and . . ."

"Minister Fudge."

"Yeah, him. He told me . . . he said that you . . ."

Severus felt his heart chill, his mind wandering to the many dark secrets Fudge could have told Harry. He felt a strong surge of hatred for the man for playing him as the minister had. He should have insisted that he be there when Harry signed. He should have seen this coming.

"Harry, what did he tell you?"

"What does it matter what he said? You never cared about me at all – did you? This was all for nothing – you pretending to care never had anything to do with me, did it!"

"Calm down and answer the question, Potter, what did he say to you? Did you even sign the paper?"

"No, you answer me! You hated me the second I walked in this school – why do you really want guardianship over me? What do you have to make up for?"

"Potter," Severus stepped closer to Harry, hesitantly reaching towards the distraught child. Harry pulled away, cradling his hands against his chest. He bared his teeth at Severus.

"Don't touch me! You still hate me, don't you? You never liked me, you hated my father and you're not even doing this for me."

"Harry!" Severus managed to grab Harry's arms, holding the child still. "Look at me."

Harry's red-trimmed, angry eyes met Severus's for a second, enough for Severus to dive into the boy's memories. Harry's mind had the very conversation he was looking for up front.

Harry was standing in front of Albus's desk, the headmaster himself was absent from the room. Fudge was sitting behind the desk, the guardianship papers on the table and a quill resting to the side. Fudge was explaining what the papers were and what they meant then said Harry could sign when he was ready. Severus narrowed his eyes as he watched Harry pick up the quill readily, a smile on his face.

"If you are absolutely sure, that is," Fudge said, watching the boy closely.

"Oh, I'm sure," Harry nodded.

"You must be okay with the man's obvious dislike for you."

"He doesn't dislike . . . he said he liked having me spend time with him."

"What do you mean?" Harry frowned, the quill lowering. Severus felt his heart ache at that movement.

"Did you know he and your mother were friends?" Fudge asked. "Good friends too. I dare say, he had feelings for your mother."

"What makes you say that?"

"Do you know what a patronus is, Harry?"

Harry shook his head.

"A patronus charm is a spell used to ward off certain dark creatures but can also be used for communication purposes. When cast, it often appears as a silvery animal that is symbolic to the caster. And when a patronus changes to the same animal as another's, that usually means some kind of bond, and sometimes, love. I have the information here of the registered patronuses."

Severus sucked in a heavy breath as Fudge pulled out a file. He knew where this was going.

"James Potter's patronus was a stag, and your mother's, Lily Evans, became a doe, complimenting your father's. They did marry after all. Do you know what Severus's patronus is? No? His is also a doe. Which means he loved your mother."

Severus watched Harry, seeing the boy's confused expression. Harry didn't seem too bothered by the information and slowly raised the quill once more. Fudge nodded encouragingly, then added casually, "I guess taking you in is his apology for killing the love of his life."

Severus huffed, closing his eyes as Harry snapped his head up with a "what?"

"He never told you any of this? It was all revealed during the man's trial years back – how he had told You-Know-Who that the one to defeat him would be born at the end of the seventh month. When were you born, exactly?"

The quill in Harry's hand slowly lowered, the boy's face scrunched up.

"You don't think the attack on your parents was because they rebelled against You-Know-Who, do you? There were reasons you were targeted. And Snape was that reason."

"He . . . Professor Snape worked for You-Know-Who?"

"My, has the professor kept you in the dark. But I'm sure he'll make a wonderful guardian. You still want to sign, don't you?"

Harry set the quill down and slowly backed away, a devilish smile on Fudge's lips. Severus sighed, shaking his head, biting back so many mixed emotions as he withdrew from Harry's mind.

Harry's eyes were glazed but they slowly cleared up. Severus released Harry, running a frustrated hand through his hair. He should have never let Fudge see Harry alone. Ever. There was so much the boy needed to know now thanks to that man. There was so much for the boy to understand. And worse, Harry had not signed the papers.

"What did you do?"

"Harry," Severus began, his tone soft.

"It's all true, isn't it?" Harry glared.

"There is a lot that was left unsaid . . ."

"You hate me still, don't you? You never wanted me; you just took pity because you loved my mum but not me. Fudge was right. You got her killed, didn't you?"

"Let me explain . . ."

"You're not denying it?"

Severus took a deep breath, all those years of guilt and anger he felt for what had happened to the Potters hitting him square in the chest. He pushed it all down as shook his head at Harry. "Listen to me . . ."

"No, I'm leaving. And I hate you too!"

Harry's words felt like a whirret to the face, but as the boy pushed past him, Severus snatched the child by the wrist, stopping him from leaving.

"I have not dismissed you," Severus said.

"I dismissed myself. Let me go. You've been lying to me this whole time." Harry pushed against Severus with his free hand, but the man managed to grab the boy's other wrist in his. Harry tried to pull his hands free.

"I have not. You simply do not know my whole story."

"I have not lied to you about how I feel. I have just never told you. And I love you, Harry."

Harry shook his head. "No, you don't."

Severus lowered himself slightly, so he was eye-level with Harry. "I do."

"Stop. Let me go."

Harry pulled back again, but Severus pulled the boy closer, close enough to plant a quick kiss on the boy's forehead. He gave Harry a serious look. "I do."

Harry frowned at Severus before falling into the man's chest, shaking his head against the man's soft robes. "I don't know what to believe anymore."

"I know," Severus said, wrapping his arms around Harry in a strong embrace. He stood, lifting Harry with him, the boy wrapping his arms around Severus's neck. They needed to have a long talk now and clear up some confusion. And all this without revealing too much. There were some things Harry was just not ready for, especially in this vulnerable state.

Severus carried the boy through a back door that led to his quarters. He set Harry down on his sofa and ordered for tea. When it arrived, Severus summoned a vial of calming draught, pouring a good dose in a cup for Harry. He stirred the tea and handed it to the boy.

"Small, slow sips," he advised. "It's just a calming draught."

Harry nodded absently, lifting the cup to his lips and taking a small sip. He lowered the cup, holding it in his hands. "Sorry."

"If anyone should apologize, it is me. I should never have allowed Fudge to see you without me. What he did was unprofessional and extremely hypocritical." Severus snarled under his breath, remembering his conversation with Fudge that morning. He sighed, seeing Harry's confused look. "That will not happen again. I am sorry you had to go through that."

Severus sat next to Harry, turning slightly so he could face the boy.

"What I am about to tell you will be repeated to no one, understand?" Severus said. Harry nodded. "It's important that this is kept between you and I. Your mother and I were friends from the time we were children until the end of our fifth year in Hogwarts. We had a . . . falling out. Now that is a story for another time," Severus quickly said when Harry looked ready to ask questions. "Right now, I need you to understand what happened between your mother and I. I did care greatly for her, loved her even as we got to our teen years. And that love did not fade when we stopped speaking to each other."

Harry studied the cup in his hands, taking another sip.

"However, my home life was . . . difficult. My father was often abusive, my mother neglectful. And while in Hogwarts, in Slytherin House, I made the wrong types of friends, found myself growing more obsessed with the Dark Arts and the need to prove my worth to anyone. And when I left Hogwarts, I was quick to become a follower of the Dark Lord."

"The dark lord?" Harry frowned.

"You-Know-Who," Severus clarified, rolling up the sleeve of his left arm, revealing a reddish mark. Harry inched closer to Severus to get a better look. Just as quickly, Severus rolled down his sleeve. "I took the Dark Mark, branded as one of his, and at the time, I felt like I was worth something. Like I was making a difference for the greater good." Severus shook his head. "How wrong I was then. One night, I overheard a . . . well, a prophesy about the one who could defeat the Dark Lord. That is also a discussion for a later date. As Fudge explained to you, the one who would defeat You-Know-Who was born as the seventh month dies. I had no idea the Dark Lord would target you or your parents, nor did I make the connection. All I knew was that I had information that would win me points as a follower, that would show my loyalty."

Severus shook his head, pouring himself a cup of tea. Harry seemed attentive to what he was saying, his eyes wide but a bit distant. Severus took a long drink of tea, thinking over his next words.

"I tried to stop him," Severus finally spoke, Harry looking up at he man. Severus didn't look at Harry. His eyes focused on the chair across from him, images of him pleading with the Dark Lord, with Albus, and then learning of the Potter's deaths. He glanced over at Harry, who was watching him patiently. "I pleaded with the Dark Lord, and then I turned to Albus when I failed. I begged him to hide you all. It was futile, as you know. The one true friend I ever had, the only one I had ever loved, was killed. I was heartbroken, but I also knew I no longer supported the Dark Lord."

"And me?" Harry asked.

"Well, you had survived. And for the longest time, I envied that you lived when Lily did not. And your father and I did not get along in school. We were very much rivals."

"Like me and Malfoy?"

"Malfoy and I," Severus corrected with a smile. Harry gave the man an annoyed look. Severus snorted. "Yes, like you and Mr. Malfoy. And when you arrived at Hogwarts, I saw every bit of your father in you. And I was prepared to hate you. But then I got to know you. And you are more like your mother in many ways."

"Everyone says I have her eyes," Harry said.

"You do. But you have her big, forgiving heart as well; her compassion, her spirit, her cheekiness," Severus narrowed his eyes at Harry, though he was smiling. Harry smiled back. "But you are not her or your father. You are your own person. You are funny, and loyal to your friends. Stubborn as a mule, but usually for good reasons. And the more I learned about you, I realized I couldn't hate you, not even in pretend. At one point I loved your mother, but she is gone now, and I will love her in my memories. I am sorry for what happened to your parents, but I would like to have you in my life for who you are – not for some obligation to them or regrets, but because I have grown to love you. If it is what you still want, that is."

Harry set his cup down and stood in front of Severus. Severus raised an eyebrow at the child. Slowly, Harry wrapped his arms around the man's neck, Severus smiling as he brought his own arms around Harry.

"I love you, too," Harry said. "I want to stay with you."

Severus patted Harry's back before he scooped the boy into his lap, enveloping him in his arms. "Thank you, Harry. I am glad my story did not chase you away."

Harry rested his head against the man's chest. "It's a lot to think about," the boy admitted, "but it doesn't sound like you meant for my parents to die. So that doesn't make it your fault. And you were kind of like me as a kid, in a way. Fudge was wrong."

Severus hummed, content to let the sentence hang in the air.

"I didn't sign the papers," Harry said. "I'm really sorry – I just, I had no idea . . ."

"It's okay. You didn't know. I should have told you sooner about all of this, prepared you even before pursuing guardianship further. I will take care of it, Harry. Trust me."

"I do," Harry smiled.

The next morning, Severus threw the door to Fudge's office open, storming inside. Fudge had been sitting at his desk reviewing papers, but at the sight of Severus, he rolled his eyes and stood.

"What did I tell you yesterday, Professor?" Fudge snapped.

"How dare you!" Severus growled. "You manipulated Harry so he wouldn't sign. You knew all along what you were doing."

"I take it the boy went crying to you, eh? I wanted to make sure he knew exactly what he was getting himself into. And I was right to do so, you've told that child nothing. Keeping him in the dark is no better than neglect."

"What you told the child was none of your business, nor was it crucial information Harry had to know then and there. What do you have against my taking guardianship of the boy?"

"I only want what is best for the child. And what is best for him is to remain in the safety of the blood wards, something you cannot provide the boy. But if the child still wishes to sign, I can provide the papers . . ."

"Hold that thought," Severus said, an idea brightening in his mind at what Fudge had said.

"Did you interrupt me, Snape?"

"That's it," Severus said, ignoring the man's question. "Why did I not think of that before? I don't need the Ministry for it. No paperwork, no interfering, no check-ins every once in a while, no ministry anything. And it's completely off the records. It's perfect."

"What are you talking about? You need the Ministry for any child custody arrangement."

"Not for a blood adoption."

Fudge's face paled considerable, white as the snow flurry outside. His lips curled as he said, "That type of binding is illegal."

"No, it's frowned upon. There's a difference."

"Then I'll make it illegal. This instant."

Severus laughed ominously, folding his hands behind his back. "You and I both know a law needs at least a week to be reviewed and considered before it's passed in the Wizarding world. Plenty of time for me to make arrangements with someone to perform the old ritual and binding magic."

"I will not allow you to blood adopt Harry Potter. There's a reason no one does that blood magic anymore."

"I must have missed that history lesson," Severus smirked as he backed out of the office. "I'll let you know when it's done."

"I'll have you arrested!"

"On what charges? Barging through your door again? I've done nothing illegal yet."

"Snape, you need to think about what is best for the boy."

"I have, and the Ministry is really the worst thing for him. So thank you for trying to emotionally scar the boy and ruin his life. I'll take it from here. Good day."

Severus walked out of the office. "Snape! Snape!" He heard Fudge calling. But he walked on, a victorious smile on his face.

Chapter Text

"Potter," Severus snapped as he spotted the trio in the hallway. He glared down at the boy in question. "You will accompany me this instant."

Harry blinked, sharing a confused look with his friends as he stepped away from them. With that, Severus turned and began walking down a flight of stairs, Harry at his heel.

"Am I in trouble, sir?" Harry asked, running to keep up.

Severus noted and slowed his pace slightly, willing his temper to calm a bit. He had so much to do and just a week to do it in. He raised an eyebrow at the boy as they walked for the entrance. "Should you be?" he asked.

"I don't think I did anything," Harry frowned as they walked outside, tightening his cloak around his shoulders. "Where are we going?"

"Diagon Alley," Severus answered. "Where you will stay at my side this time. We have some shopping to do."

"We?" Harry kicked at a stone as they walked toward Hogwarts' gates.

"Yes, we." Severus took a deep breath. "I spoke with Minister Fudge this morning."

"Really? Is he going to let me sign the papers again?"

"I don't want him anywhere near you, so the papers are out of the question."

Harry's eyes shot up to meet Severus's, a grin slowly spreading across his face. "You're serious? That's brilliant, professor. So I would be like . . . you're son?"

"That is what adoption means," Severus stopped abruptly on the path they were on, Harry catching himself from walking ahead. Severus gave the boy a serious look. "I have run into several obstacles with the Ministry and the only way around all of them is to blood adopt you. It is an old ritual and I do not believe there has been a blood adoption in nearly a century. However, no one has ever thought to make this ritual illegal until now, so we have a week to complete it."

"How long does it usually take?"

"Ten minutes."

"Oh! Then we have plenty of time what's the big hurry for?"

"The "big hurry" is for all the equipment we will need, half of which are no longer in production. We need to track down very specific objects that we need for this ritual, as well as find someone who will be willing to cast the binding spell at the end that would make as inseparable as father and son and we have one week to do everything. I need you to understand how serious this is, young man. If this all fails, then my chances of obtaining guardianship or ever adopting you are gone, if I do not find myself in Azkaban for this, that is."

Harry blinked up at Severus, then nodded his head, "I understand. What's Azkaban?"

"A prison."

"Oh. Err, and this blood adoption – how does it work?"

Severus reached out and grabbed Harry's arm, pulling the boy against him, then apparated to Diagon Alley. Being a Sunday, it wasn't as busy as before the start of term, but there was a decent crowd.

"You will stay close to me."

"Yes, sir. Professor! What about my appearance?"

"You will be fine. You are here looking for the correct potions' equipment with your annoyed potions professor because you were too incapable of collecting the right pewter cauldron and melted the one you had in class. How's that?"

"Sounds like something you would do," Harry muttered.

"Come, Potter."

Severus kept a hand on Harry's shoulder, steering him through the crowd to an antique shop just on the border of Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley. His grip on Harry's shoulder tightened as he said, "I am serious, Harry, you will stay with me at all times, is that clear?"

"Okay, it's clear."

"Mind your cheek."

Severus guided Harry inside the antique shop where he finally released the boy. There was no one else in the store, even the store keeper was absent from sight. Severus began eyeing shelves of old urns and cauldrons and counters of clocks and knick knacks. He heard Harry gasp at the sight of knives in a glass compartment. Severus walked over to where Harry was, looking down at the knives. Some were centuries old, the designs on the handles emphasizing the Middles Ages era, while other may have just been a couple hundred years old, their modern look clashing with the older ones.

"Professor." Harry looked up at Severus. "You never answered my question about how blood adoptions work."

Harry nodded.

"That is a blood shield charm, one Professor Dumbledore completed to strengthen the bond of blood between Petunia and your mother after Lily's sacrifice for you, creating a safe haven at your aunt's house where no harm could come to you, ever. In the same sense, the blood adoption will strengthen the bond between us by way of mingling our blood and casting a similar blood binding charm. The blood wards at your Aunt's will fall and form new around my home, so that no harm will come to you there. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah, I guess." Harry looked at the knives. "Do we need one of these?"

"As a matter of fact, we do."

"Oh," Harry made a face at the knives. "So, we have to cut ourselves and share our blood?"

"It will be no more than a prick, but yes, that is what we will do."

"Oh." Harry was silent for a few seconds, then frowned up at Severus. "Isn't that how diseases spread?"

"Are you implying something, Potter?" Severus raised an eyebrow at the bow.

"No-no, I just . . . err, never mind."

"I can assure you that I am disease free, thank you, as I'm sure you are."

There was a loud bang, suddenly, and a gruff, heavier man stepped through a door in the back of the store. He walked over to Severus and Harry. "My alarms alerted me to some customers," he said. "How may I help you?"

"We need to test these bonding knives," Severus said, tapping on the glass above a section of five rusty looking knives that had black leather straps on the end of the red handles.

The man looked over at Harry, tugging on the end of his beard briefly. "So, I see," he nodded. "Good luck to you both."

The man tapped his wand to the glass, a hole forming for the man to reach in and pull out the five knives. He waved his wand over them once more, and the rusty look faded to reveal a black blade underneath. Severus picked up the first, studying the handle's design – a unicorn rearing. He held the handle in his grip and the black leather straps wrapped themselves tightly around his wrist. He removed the straps and held the knife out to Harry, who took it from him with shaking hands, holding the handle as carefully as he could.

"Why these knives?" Harry asked, waiting for the straps to wrap around his wrist. They remained limp.

Severus watched Harry study the unicorn, but the knife had not bonded to the boy. With a sigh, Severus picked up the next one. A snake wrapped itself around the handle. Glancing at Harry, Severus smirked at the irony of it if this blade bonded to them both. He held the handle and the black leather straps tightened around his hand in a death grip – a strong bond.

Severus tugged at the straps to remove them and handed the knife to Harry, who seemed more eager this time to take the knife. He held the handle in his hand, but the straps did not move. He pouted and looked at Severus.

"How come they all bond to you?"

"The knives," Severus answered, picking up the next one – a phoenix, "look for the slightest trace of relation between the animal and myself. If it exists to some extent, it'll bond – and almost everyone has some quality of what these creatures symbolize. The challenge is if that quality is of the same measure in the person who holds it next." The leather straps of this knife loosely wrapped around Severus's wrist, and he didn't need to fight to free himself. He handed the knife to Harry, but the straps did not move.

Severus sighed and picked up the next knife, whose straps tightened painfully around him. He hissed as he tugged at the straps to remove them. It took him a moment to pry the straps off him and he handed the knife to Harry, who yelped as the straps constricted his wrist. He tried to pry them off, then looked pleading at Severus, who reached down to help remove the straps. Once Harry was free, Severus looked at the animal and rolled his eyes.

"Of course," he muttered.

"What is it?" Harry asked, rising on his toes to look.

Severus held out the handle, revealing the engraved design of a lion. Harry smiled and smirked up at Severus. The man ignored him and held the knife out to the man. "We'll take this one."

After paying for the knife, they left the antique shop with the knife enclosed in a special case. Severus hid it in an inner robe pocket as he led Harry down the street of Diagon Alley to a candle store, which Harry never knew existed.

"Welcome to Magical Scents," a lady greeted, as they entered the store.

Harry began to cough, and his nose scrunched up as he entered at Severus's side. Severus patted Harry's back, though he knew it would be futile. It took him a few years alone to learn to walk inside without making a face at all the scents. He wasn't sure how anyone handled such stores like this – women seemed to fair the best, as if they enjoyed all the smells.

"Anything I can help you find, gentlemen?"

"Ritual candles," Severus said.

"Oh," the woman made a displeased face. She looked between Severus and Harry with a suspicious look. "What for?"

"If that concerned you, I would have told you."

The woman huffed and pointed to the far back. "We don't represent that part of the store. It's been here long before we were." With that, the woman walked off to help the next person walking in with a big smile.

Severus led Harry to the back of the store. The color scheme changed dramatically from bright and overwhelming to a neutral tan. Severus read the names and instructions of the many different candles. He was surprised how some shady businesses managed to get away by hiding in such commercialistic stores. This place should belong in Knockturn. There were candles of all shapes and sizes, used for all kinds of rituals. Some for marriages, some for love, some for abortions, some for sudden death . . .

"Hey, Professor, look at this one," Harry said, reaching for a candle that spiraled around.

Severus quickly slapped Harry's hand away from it, startling the boy. He pointed a finger at Harry as he said in a low tone, "Do not touch any of them."

Severus glanced at the one Harry had been reaching for. The name: Cloud Nine. How lovely. He looked back at Harry. "These are not like the knives, Harry. And I do not know what they all do."

"Sorry," Harry repeated.

"Can I help you?" A lady said, walking towards them from the entrance. "I hope you didn't plan on stealing any while I was out.

"No, ma'am," Severus said, politely. "I am looking for the pink candle, I think it's called Child Adoption or something along those lines?"

"What form of adoption? I have three for different purposes."

"Blood adoption," Severus kept his voice low.

The woman smiled, revealing yellowed, crooked teeth, her grey eyes sparkling. "Haven't heard anyone wanting to do that in a long time. Problems with child custody, hmm? Or did you kidnap that laddie, there?"

"None of the above," Severus said. "Do you have the candle?"

The woman walked to the shelves and summoned a ladder to climb up to a higher shelf. Using her wand, she levitated the candle into a carrying bag, packing paper around it to keep it steady. "There you are. That will be fifteen galleons."

"Fifteen?" Severus snapped. "Most of these are hardly above seven."

"Circumstances changed things."

Growling under his breath, Severus paid the woman and dragged Harry out of the suffocating shop.

"Sir," Harry patted on Severus's arm for his attention. "Is what we are doing legal?"

"Are you getting the impression that it is not?"

"Well, kind of."

"Blood adoptions were a very traditional form of reinforcing the family bond between child and adult, even if it was the child's own parents. But it was mostly used by stepparents, foster parents, and the likes. However, as the Ministry came into existence with an easier and less painful way of adopting, what we had tried to do, fewer and fewer people used this type of adoption. And then it began developing darker purposes – kidnappers used it to get away with what they were doing. Parents who had divorced tried to use it to gain custody of their children. The bonds the charm created were weaker and often times disastrous because of how it was being used."

"So, why are we doing it?"

"Because it had pure origins. You cannot judge something as dark by the way it was used by the wrong people with awful intentions. I wish to adopt you as my own, do you wish for the same?"

"Yeah," Harry smiled, leaning into Severus as he walked at the man's side. "I would like that very much.

"Good. We are both in agreement." Severus paused outside the last shop. "Now, for my least favorite part of this ritual."

Severus watched as Harry frowned at the wizarding clothing store. The boy looked up at Severus with a titled head.

"As tradition," Severus said, "which I swear was started by a child, we must wear our favorite colors."

"That doesn't sound too bad," Harry said,

"No," Severus shook his head. "But that means that you wear my favorite colors and I wear yours. It helps to strengthen the bond once the magic is complete."

Severus felt very uneasy as Harry's face morphed from confusion to outright sadistic with that large grin. The boy snickered. Severus narrowed his eyes at Harry. "You torture me, and I'll torture you."

"But that won't strengthen our bond, will it?" Harry smiled innocently.

Severus hummed, then said, "very well."

And Severus found himself sneering at his image in the mirror in the changing rooms. He crossed his arms. These just had to be Harry's favorite colors. He was wearing a red silky robe with gold trim. He looked ridiculous. This was just not his style. He could just vomit right now.

The brushing aside of curtains had him looking to his right, and he smiled as Harry stood at his side in front of the mirror, looking himself over. The boy wore a green silky robe, with a darker green trim. Harry studied himself and smiled. He looked up at Severus.

"I like this," he said.

"I'm glad one of us will be content."

Harry laughed. "I think you look like a Gryffindor. You should wear that to my next game."

"In your dreams," Severus said, ruffling Harry's hair. "Get dressed back in your clothes so I can pay for these, and then will have some lunch."

Harry smiled and went back behind his curtain, Severus going back into his own changing area. Almost everything was all set. He just needed someone to perform the charm during the ritual. And who better than Dumbledore?

Chapter Text

Severus sat across from Harry in the Leaky Cauldron, watching as Harry intently studied the menu. He already knew what he wanted, having been here enough to have a usual. Harry, however, had spent the last ten minutes looking over everything and trying to decide. Severus sighed, and took a drink from his tea.

"We still have a couple things we need to do before the ritual," Severus said. "Hurry up and pick something."

"Sorry," Harry said, his cheeks reddening. "It's just . . . everything seems so expensive and –"

"Hold that thought," Severus interrupted with a wave of his hand. "Is that what has you taking so long? Price is certainly not an issue; we are just out for a quick lunch. Besides, it's just the Leaky Cauldron, it's not like we are at some fancy, first-class diner."

"I know, but . . ." Harry frowned, glancing over the menu at Severus.

"Let me see the menu," Severus said, holding his hand out for it. Harry handed it over reluctantly. Severus barely looked at it before he said, "You're getting the roast beef special, end of discussion."

"What? But that's like the most expensive thing on the menu."

"You like roast beef and the two sides that come with it."

"Does that surprise you?" Severus quirked a brow.

"Well, not really, I guess. You're always watching me, ever since I came to Hogwarts. Kind of creepy actually." Harry muttered the last part.

Severus snorted, but said nothing. After informing the waiter of their decisions, Severus thought over how he would proceed now. Just a couple more arrangements to make and they could perform the ritual tonight. He would not waste any time, even though he may have an entire week. He couldn't risk the Ministry finding a way to speed up the law-making process. He needed to make a quick stop at his house before going back to Hogwarts and speaking with Dumbledore. One thing he hadn't considered was if the headmaster would even approve.

"Professor?"

Severus blinked and looked at Harry. "Hmm?"

"When you adopt me," Harry kept his voice down, "what should I call you?"

"What do you want to call me?" Severus asked. In all honesty, the name situation had never crossed his mind. He wondered what it would be like to be called "father" or even the more informal and personal "dad." Finding it too odd to even think about, he focused on Harry as the boy stared into his glass of pumpkin juice.

"I don't know, Professor, I guess."

Severus snorted. "How very appropriate for someone's soon to be adoptee. I must say, I did not picture our relationship going this far when I agreed to house you over Christmas break. If you feel comfortable with just calling me Professor, you may do so although I would not object to you using my first name if you'd like."

"Severus, right?"

Severus gave a single nod. There was something odd about hearing the boy address him as such.

"That's a strange name," Harry said before his eyes widened. "I mean – err – sorry, I didn't mean to offend you or anything."

"Wouldn't it be weird if I called you by your first name?"

"As long as you never do so in class, I see no harm in you doing so."

"I wouldn't. But still, seems weird."

"You do not have to decide on what you'll call me tonight, Harry. We may continue as we have as long as you need until you find something that's comfortable for you. And for myself as well. Now, eat your lunch. I need to make a quick stop at my house before we head back to Hogwarts."

"What for?"

"You'll see."

After lunch, Severus apparated them to Spinner's End, walking to his house and holding the door for Harry. He led the boy to the second floor, at the end of the hall where the attic was. Harry paused as Severus pulled down the ladder.

"Go on," Severus encouraged, waiting for the boy to climb up first. "I cleaned up before break ended. But do not touch anything unless I give you permission."

Harry nodded, then climbed up the ladder, Severus right behind him. Harry stood near the entrance; his hands clapped behind his back. Severus allowed the boy to stand there as he walked deeper into the attic, searching for the rings he knew to be up here. Digging through some boxes, he found it hard to avoid some childhood memories. He shook those away as he found a box labeled Prince inheritance. He pulled the box down and dug through it, finding the small, black velvet box.

"Come here, Harry," he called to the boy.

Harry was quick to obey, keeping his hands at his side.

Severus opened the box, revealing two peacock rings, the heads of the birds intertwined. He carefully pulled the two rings apart.

"These rings belonged to my third great-grandmother," Severus explained as he kneeled and took Harry's left hand and slid the ring on the boy's finger. "Don't worry, it will shrink to fit you. The rings are an old tradition in several pureblood families. The fathers pass the rings down to their sons, while the mother's pass theirs down to their daughters. They are Family Bond Rings, and usually represent the bond between parent and child. These were made for Prince family specifically, the peacock representing royalty."

"Why don't you have your father's?" Harry asked.

"My father was a muggle, and I never knew my grandfather. Now pay attention. Remember when I told you if everything bonded to us, it would strengthen the blood adoption? Well, if these bond to us, this adoption will be at its strongest."

"Why would they bond to us?" Harry looked at the ring on his finger dubiously. "We aren't even family."

"Blood may be thicker than water, but love can be stronger," Severus said, entwining his left hand in Harry's so the rings were side by side, the heads of the peacocks touching. After an intense silent half-minute, the peacocks lifted their heads and touched beaks, tapping each other. Harry smiled excitedly as the peacocks wrapped their necks around each other before growing still.

Severus finally smiled himself, growing a bit misty eyed at the sight of the rings. It was truly remarkable. Realizing he was becoming sentimental, he tried to discreetly wipe at his eyes.

"I saw that, Professor," Harry smirked.

"You saw nothing," Severus scoffed. "It's dusty in this attic. I hardly clean up here."

"Right," Harry said, the smirk growing. "Very dusty."

Rolling his eyes, Severus pulled the rings apart despite the protesting birds. He turned Harry and gave the boy a gentle swat to his bottom. "Take your cheeky self back downstairs and wash up. We will be heading back to Hogwarts shortly."

Harry nodded, grinning. He looked at the ring on his finger and began to slide it off to hand it over.

"No," Severus said. "Keep it. It is yours now. Besides, you'll need to wear it for the ritual."

"Right," Harry said, sliding it back on with a smile. "I'll go wash up."

Severus waited until Harry had gone down the ladder before he glanced down at the ring. He closed his eyes tightly to hold back any more emotions as he traced the patterns of the peacock. He recalled a distant memory from the back of his mind . . .

"Mum, what's this?" six-year-old Severus asked as he lifted a velvet box off his mother's shelf in her private study room (which was presently Severus's lab). He opened the velvet box, revealing two rings intertwined together.

"Put that down," Eileen had told him without looking up from the book she was reading.

"What are these?"

"Rings, obviously. They're from my mother."

"Why are the rings like this?" Severus continued to ask. This was the most conversation he had had with his mother all day. And in the last week. Usually, she gave him short orders to do schoolwork and be quiet. Seen but not heard.

"They are Family Bond rings, that's why. I put one on and you put one on and then the peacocks hug each other. They just show the relationship between us, telling us we are mother and son. Though usually, the mothers give to their daughters and the fathers to their son, but it can work between any parent and child."

"Do these still work? Will they bond to us?"

"Of course, they still work and bond. We are mother and son. Why wouldn't they? Come here and let me show you so we can be done of this bothersome conversation."

Severus excitedly brought the rings over to his mother where she sat in her chair, handing the box over. He watched as his mother pulled the rings apart and slid one on her finger, giving Severus one to do the same. Then, Eileen interlaced her fingers with Severus's, so the rings were beak to beak.

They waited.

For nearly three minutes.

Eileen licked her lips and snorted. Severus looked up at her mother, wondering if the rings were working or not. Could she feel something he could not? The next words Eileen said scarred a place in the young boy's memory for years to come.

"I guess blood isn't thicker than water, now is it?"

"Professor!" Harry called up the ladder. "I'm all set!"

Severus smiled before heading downstairs to take Harry back to Hogwarts and reveal his plan to the headmaster.

"You wish to blood adopt Harry Potter?" Albus asked with raised brows. "Do you realize that Minister Fudge was here not even an hour ago explaining his plans to illegalize it? He already has the entire council on board for passing the law tomorrow morning. You're risking Azkaban for this, Severus."

"That is why," Severus explained, "I need you to cast the spell and help with the ritual tonight. You created the blood wards around The Dursley's home, you can cast the blood binding spell between myself and Harry."

"You have all the items needed for this ritual?"

"I do now."

"And you will be wearing Harry's favorite colors?"

Severus rolled his eyes. "And he, mine."

Albus snorted. "The law now does not say I cannot perform the ritual and cast the charm needed. You are pushing boundaries, Severus, but if the boy means that much to you, I will be happy to assist. I am sure you know that this may change certain things for the future . . ."

"I will repay my debt to you, Albus. I know what I'm doing. Unless you've forgotten, I still bear the mark, and I practice my occlumency daily."

"If you are certain . . ."

"There is nothing I've been more certain of."

Albus smiled. "Then let's begin."

Later that evening, Severus finishing putting on his red cufflinks through his gold trimmed robe cuffs. He had to sneer at himself one last time in his mirror at his red robe. Shaking his head, he fidgeted with the ring on his finger, then brushed his hair back one last time. He couldn't remember ever fretting about any event in his life, not even his branding as a Death Eater. He sighed, a soft smile spreading across his lips.

"Professor!" Harry's loud voice echoed through his quarters.

Severus groaned. He would have to work with the boy on indoor voices. He left his room, brush in hand, finding Harry in the room the boy had stayed in over Christmas break. It had very much so become Harry's bedroom.

"What is it, Harry?"

"I can't get these stupid things on."

Severus set the brush down on the boy's dresser to aid him with his silver cufflinks.

"First off, they are not stupid," Severus said, weaving the cufflinks through the holes with practiced ease. "You need to practice getting the cufflinks on. But I doubt you'll need to wear such things again for some time."

"Good," Harry said with a pout as Severus finished. "Why did they have to be silver. I'm pretty much wearing Slytherin colors now."

"You are not," Severus said, smoothing out Harry's robe and frowning at the boy's messy hair. He picked up the brush again. "Silver goes wonderfully with green. You cannot associate colors with the Hogwarts houses forever."

"You're pulling too hard," Harry whined, reaching up try and swat the brush away. "It's fine the way it is."

"You know, this brush has two good uses," Severus warned, giving the boy's thigh a firm tap with the back of the brush before resuming. Harry winced, then crossed his arms while Severus continued to brush the boy's hair into a somewhat presentable look, using his wand to spray water on it a couple times. He huffed as he finished brushing, glaring at the few stubborn strands that stuck up despite all his hard work.

"I guess that will do for now," Severus said, banishing his brush back to his room. Harry looked back at Severus and smiled.

"Couldn't you wear those robes at least once to class?"

"Absolutely not. Come, Albus is waiting for us in his office."

Using the floo, Severus took Harry up to the Headmaster's office.

"Welcome Severus, Harry," Albus greeted with a large smile. "How are you boys? Lemon drop before we begin."

Severus refrained from rolling his eyes while Harry answered with a polite, "No, thank you."

"Let's get started, shall we?"

Albus lit the pink candle sitting on his desk and nodded at Severus and Harry. Severus kneeled on one knee in front of the headmaster, beaconing Harry to do the same.

Albus cleared his throat as he opened a worn book to a bookmarked page. "We are here today to appreciate the bond between a found father and son. By the power vested in me, I ask the magic and love in this room to unite Severus Tobias Snape and Harry James Potter as parent and child through the purity and strength of the blood they will share with each other."

Albus flicked his wand at the candle and it brightened, eating away at half of the wax. Severus stood, Harry following his lead. Albus picked up the knife that was lying in front of the candle and held it above the flame. Everyone watched as the flame brightened, turning the blade of the knife red. The candle used up another half of its wax when Albus pulled the knife away, the blade returning to its normal black color. Albus handed the knife to Severus first, the straps of the knife wrapping themselves around Severus's wrist.

"May the blood of the father offer this child protection from all harm. By giving his blood, the father promises to love, care for, and provide for the child."

Severus placed the tip of the blade at the center of his palm and twisted it, pricking his hand enough to draw blood. Severus then held his hand over the flame of the candle, the wax melting more as the flame brightened. His hand continued to bleed as he handed the knife to Harry, who gulped and accepted it, the straps wrapping around his wrist.

"May the blood of the child keep father and son forever together. By giving his blood, the child promises to love, care for, and when the time comes, to provide for the father."

Albus gave Harry an expected look, and the child closed his eyes as he placed the tip of the blade at the center of his palm, twisting the blade as he had watched Severus do, hissing as he drew his own blood. He reached over and held his hand above the flame, watching the fire grow bright and the wax melt more until just an inch of wax remained. The small hole in the center of his palm continued to bleed as he handed the knife over to Albus.

"The actions of father and son today have proven their love for one another is true and strong. You may now share your blood."

Severus reached for Harry's hand, the boy meeting him halfway. He gripped the boy's hand tightly to ensure their palms touched perfectly. Albus held the knife underneath their grip, allowing the straps to warp around both their wrists. Then, the headmaster held the remainder of the candle under the knife, the blade turning red, heat from the candle finding its way through the straps, warming Severus's wrist and Harry's, he was sure.

Albus held his wand over their handshake and did a small circular motion, casting a blood binding spell. It took all of ten seconds. The last of the candle melted away and the flame died, the knife restoring its black tint. Albus removed the knife.

"Your blood has been shared, the charm has been cast, you are now bonded as father and son, truly and eternally. Congratulations."

Severus didn't let go of Harry's hand. Instead, he pulled the boy into his arms, kneeling slightly to hug the child. Harry gripped the man's neck tightly. After a moment, Severus pulled back, smiling at the large grin on Harry's face. Standing tall, he reached out to shake Albus's hand.

"Thank you, headmaster."

"I'm very happy for you, Severus," Albus said.

"Yeah, thank you, headmaster," Harry said, reaching out his hand as well.

Albus just smiled and pulled Harry into a hug. "I will break one of you out of this formality, I swear it."

Harry just laughed and returned the hug. Albus released the boy and ruffled his messy hair. Severus noticed that Harry had tears in his eyes. The boy lifted his glasses to wipe at them.

"I can't believe I'm adopted now," the boy said. He looked at his palm, which was already healing. "So much has changed in one year for me."

Severus couldn't help but agree, smiling down at Harry as he waited for the boy to collect himself. Harry suddenly frowned as he continued to look at his hand. "Wait," he said, looking over at Severus with wide eyes, "does sharing our blood mean I'll look like you now?"

"Would that be such a bad thing?" Severus smirked.

Harry's eyes widened more, and Severus couldn't help but let that chuckle escape his throat, Albus laughing as well.

"Sharing blood does not change genetics, Harry," Severus said, "no matter how much magic you throw into it."

Harry visibly sagged with relief. Severus rolled his eyes and clapped a hand on the boy's shoulder. "It is late," he said. "You may spend the night in your room or head to the tower."

"My room," Harry quickly said. Severus wondered if the boy had just really wanted to declare the room as his.

"Very well. Thank you, again, Albus."

Severus floo'd them both back to his quarters. Before he could even step into the living room, Harry's arms wrapped tightly around his waist. Severus returned the hold automatically.

"I love you," Harry said.

Severus smiled, smoothing back Harry's hair to plant a quick kiss down on the boy.

"I love you, too, my child."

Chapter Text

Severus found his Daily Prophet resting in its usual place at his table. Harry was still asleep, and he'd let the boy sleep a little longer. Though it was Monday, he knew Harry's first class wasn't until nine am. The boy would be allowed to sleep until eight since he could eat his breakfast here and get ready for the day. After all, he was just adopted last night. Severus could wait to eat his own breakfast until Harry was awake.

The Floo flared in his living room and a parchment flew over to his table. Before he could touch it, it unrolled itself and revealed the headmaster's writing: Report to my office with Harry immediately.

Severus jumped to his feet and made his way to Harry's room. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind about what the headmaster could possibly want. He knocked softly on Harry's door before letting himself in.

He paused at the sight of the child sleeping peacefully in the bed. For a moment, Severus forgot about the urgency to meet Albus and smiled at the child—his child. Nothing could change that now. Whatever the issue, Harry was his.

With that though, Severus gently patted Harry's shoulder, leaning over the bed slightly. "Harry," he whispered, shaking the boy's shoulder slightly. "Harry, wake up."

Harry's eyes blinked awake and he stared up blearily at Severus.

"You need to get up and get dressed," Severus said, standing up straight. "We need to see the Headmaster. "Come on, up with you."

"Five more minutes," Harry muttered, closing his eyes.

"The headmaster needs to see us, Harry."

Harry's eyes snapped open. "What for?"

"I do not know. Get up and dressed, and we will head up to his office."

"Is it about the blood adoption?" Harry asked as he sat up on his bed. He spoke through a yawn. "Did something go wrong?"

"You know the adoption was successful. I am sure this has nothing to do with the adoption. Hurry and dress. Meet me by the fireplace."

Harry nodded and left for the bathroom.

Severus let the child be and waited in the living room for Harry, thinking over everything they had done and the situation of the blood adoption. There could only be one person who would want to see Harry and himself together. And while he knew the new law was in the making, Fudge couldn't possibly arrest him or even fine him for having performed the magic last night. The statute of limitations for a ritualistic bonding that was performed while it was still legal was over. He could not be arrested or fined for what he did. What could Fudge possibly want?

Harry appeared in the living room dressed, though his hair looked untouched. Severus frowned, but Harry reached up and tried to smooth his hair down.

Harry shook his head. "It's fine! You don't have to brush it for me, I'm not a five-year-old, you know."

Severus smirked. "Glad to know. I'll keep that in mind." Severus ruffled Harry's hair before leading him to the fireplace. He pulled the boy close and floo'd to the headmaster's office. He was not surprised to see Fudge sitting in a chair across from Albus's desk.

Fudge stood as he saw Severus and Harry enter the room, Albus standing as well, greeting the two before leaving his office to give them some privacy.

"Good morning to you, Professor Snape and young Mr. Potter," Fudge greeted.

"Indeed," was Severus's suspicious response.

"Good morning, sir," Harry said.

"I've come to inform you"—Fudge looked at Severus— "that as of this day, blood adoptions are illegal. However, I realize that you have already performed your ritual with Dumbledore performing the binding spell. I guess congratulations are in order."

"You did not come all this way to make a toast," Severus glared, crossing his arms. "Whatever you wish to say, spit it out."

"It's a bit early to be so condescending, don't you think, Professor? Very well, considering the delicacy of this situation we find ourselves in and the secrecy that must be involved, the ministry invokes the right to follow up on this adoption every two weeks for the first three months, and then a yearly follow up after that until the boy is of age."

"You're joking!" Severus snapped, glaring now. Harry glanced back and forth between Fudge and Severus.

"If my agent finds any sign of abuse or neglect, any hints that the environment the child lives in is unfit or unsafe, Harry Potter will be removed from your care."

Severus looked down at Harry, who's eyes widened and his face paled. Severus looked back up at Fudge.

"You cannot do that," Severus said, "the blood adoption will not allow it."

"I would not deny visiting rights," Fudge said, brushing off his robe. "But the boy must be kept in a safe and providable environment. If you cannot provide that, blood adoption or not, I reserve the right to remove the child and place him in Ministry custody. The blood adoptions rely on true admiration for one another, not a safe place to stay. And while the blood wards formed around your home may be strong, the wards around the Ministry are stronger."

"Oh, I doubt that. I do not consent to these visits. And if you dare try to take Harry from me—"

"Be careful who you threaten, Professor. The boy—"

"Stop talking about me like I'm not even here," Harry interrupted, glaring up at the adults.

"Harry," Severus scolded lightly.

"You will mind yourself around me, Mr. Potter," Fudge said.

"No," Harry said, "You're acting like I'm not here and can't hear you. Why do I need checkups? No one seemed to care when Professor Snape took me to his home over Christmas break. Why do you care now?"

"My aunt and uncle's house was the exact opposite of that."

"You were safe within the blood wards provided by your mother's sacrifice."

"You don't know anything! They were awful to me and no one cared or even checked on me. Now you want to check on me all the time! Why don't you just do what you've always done and leave me alone!"

"Clearly, Snape has not told you to hold your tongue when addressing the Minister of Magic."

"You're being nothing but—"

"Harry Potter," Severus finally said, glaring down at Harry.

Harry blinked up at Severus, his face falling slightly at the stern look Severus was giving him. He looked down, glaring at his shoes. Severus sighed, thinking over Fudge's conditions. As much as he hated agreeing to them, he would have to for now until he could find a loophole. There always was one. He would have to study the new law and some of the child endangerment laws. Somehow, he would get the Ministry off his back. He should have known Fudge would find a way to interfere with his adoption of Harry.

"Well, Snape?" Fudge said.

"Very well," Severus said. "I agree to your terms on one condition."

"Oh?" Fudge raised his brows. "And what might that be?"

"Your agent does not approach Harry without my permission and never when I am not nearby."

Fudge narrowed his eyes at Severus before nodding his head. "Agreed." Fudge looked down at Harry. "Congratulations on your adoption. I hope you are truly happy with the situation."

"I am," Harry muttered moodily, leaning into Severus's side. Severus put an arm around the child's shoulders.

"Humph." Fudge shook his head at the two before turning to leave the office. "My agent will meet with you soon. Good luck, Snape. You'll need it."

Fudge left with that and Albus returned, asking how everything went.

"We have a lot to talk about," Severus said. "I will come back after my morning classes if you are available."

Albus nodded. "I will see you then."

Severus and Harry floo'd back to their quarters. Harry tries to make a beeline to his room.

"I need to go to class," he said.

Severus caught Harry by the sleeve of his robe and directed him to the table. "Class is not for another thirty minutes. Plenty of time to sit for a filling breakfast."

"I'm not hungry."

"You will eat regardless."

Harry sighed loudly before sitting at the table, Severus taking his place at the head. A breakfast of eggs, sausage, and toast appeared for them and they both began eating in silence. After a few minutes passed, Severus looked over at Harry and cleared his throat.

"I know that what Minister Fudge said was alarming, but we will work with him through this until I can find a way to end the need for these visits."

"I didn't ask if you wanted to—you, young man, will be on your best behavior, understand?"

"Why does he even care?"

"Minister Fudge is a sore loser," Severus said, hoping to lighten the mood. "And he will lose this battle as well. With that said, you will do your absolute best to be polite and courteous with whoever he sends to monitor us. I'm sure within the next few weeks, these visits will be seen as pointless and will be terminated."

Harry was silent. Severus sighed. He was sure Harry was upset from their early meeting. It had not been how he wanted their morning to go, especially with his newly adopted son. However, he needed to address how Harry had behaved around the minister. He hated to do so when he disliked the man completely, but Harry had to learn that he could not act as he did around Fudge or any adult again. But most especially Fudge.

"About this morning in the headmaster's office," Severus began.

"What about it?"

"Let me finish." Severus stared at Harry, allowing silence for a minute. "Your attitude and behavior toward Minister Fudge was very disrespectful. It is impolite to interrupt when someone is speaking and it is deplorable to yell at anyone, especially someone of authority. You know better, and the next time you see Minister Fudge, you will apologize for today's episode."

"I'm not apologizing to him!"

"Harry, do not yell at me," Severus warned, setting his own fork down with a loud clank.

"I'm not," Harry said in a quieter voice. "It's not fair—why do I have to apologize?"

"Besides it being the right this to do? It would show the Minister that you are a maturing and respectable young man. If anything, it could only help our case in the long run. Look, I will do my best to convince the ministry that these visits are unnecessary, but until then, whether you like it or not, we are under surveillance and cannot risk any chances. I'm sure I will be scrutinized more than you will be, but you cannot let what anyone says about you or myself get to you. Can you do that?"

"I'll try."

"That's all I ask of you."

"Okay. Can I go with you to see Professor Dumbledore later?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"There are several matters that I must discuss with the headmaster and you do not need to be privy to those conversations."

"But it'll probably involve me."

"You're situation will be addressed, but not everything we will talk about concerns you."

"But most of it will."

Severus bit back an annoyed growl and narrowed his eyes at Harry. "If there is anything that I feel you need to know, I will certainly inform you. Now quit this sulking and finish your breakfast. Classes start in fifteen minutes."

Harry stabbed at a piece of yolk soaked toast, muttering, "It'd just be easier if you let me go with you."

"You are treading on thin ice, young man." Severus picked up his paper as his empty plate vanished, hoping Harry would drop the topic and do as he was told. Instead, he heard the boy scrape his chair away from the table and stomp away to his room, his bedroom door slamming behind him. That did it. Severus was on his feet and marching to Harry's room. He did not appreciate slammed doors.

He entered Harry's room without so much as a knock, finding the boy shoving his homework in his bag. He blocked the doorway, arms crossed as he looked down at the child.

"What have I told you about slamming doors?" he asked.

"Not to," Harry answered, throwing his bag over his shoulder and pausing in front of Severus. "Can I go now?"

"Lose the attitude. And no, you will try answering that question again. What have I told about slamming doors in these quarters?"

"Let me through," Harry demanded, trying to shove past Severus, but the man grabbed his shoulder and pushed him to stand in front. "Stop it! Let me out. I have to go to class."

"And you will—after you answer me."

Severus was prepared to wait Harry out in a stare-down or even a yelling match. What he was not prepared for was the hard kick to his shin that made his leg jerk and forced a hiss through his teeth. Harry ran past Severus, but Severus recovered quickly, ignoring the pain in his leg, and followed after Harry. He snatched the boy by his arm, roughly removing the bag and tossing it on the sofa.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Harry said, "I didn't mean to!"

"You didn't mean to kick me?" Severus growled. "You are about to be a very sorry little boy."

"No," Harry whined, "I have to go to class."

"You'll go when I send you." Severus pushed Harry into an empty corner of his living room. "Do not move a muscle."

Harry made a face. "I'll try to convince my heart to stop."

Annoyed, Severus landed a single smack on the boy's bottom. Harry winced but remained silent. Severus went to his bedroom, briefly rubbing the sting out of his leg. The kid had good aim and a good swing. And a good death wish. Severus paced in his bedroom, wanting to calm himself before he dealt with Harry. No student or child ever had the audacity to kick him as Harry has just done.

Something was wrong with his boy, but he couldn't quite place his finger on it. As upsetting as this morning was, it certainly didn't warrant this behavior. He wanted to know what had Harry so upset more than he wanted to punish him. Sitting down on his bed, he called out, "Come here, Harry."

Harry slowly shuffled into the bedroom, looking miserable. Severus held out his hand and his hairbrush flew over to him from its place on his dresser. Harry gulped audibly, but Severus motioned him to come closer. Harry did so, eyeing the hairbrush Severus set down on the bed.

"I'm really sorry," Harry said.

"Harry," Severus began, "I want you to be honest with me or that backside of yours will be getting a dose of the hairbrush. Why in Merlin's name did you kick me? I know this morning was upsetting, but it couldn't have possibly angered you so much you would want to physically harm me."

"I don't want to do that."

"But you did."

"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking." Harry sniffed and looked down at his shoes.

"If that is truly all you can come up with, you might as well as bend over my lap."

"No, it's not," Harry said, unconsciously taking a step back. Severus gently reached out and grabbed Harry's wrist, pulling the boy back to his place in front of him. He raised an expectant eyebrow. "I—I really don't know why I kicked you, it just happened. I was mad that you weren't letting me leave and all because I slammed the stupid door."

"You know I don't like slammed doors in my quarters. You could break the door or wear it out by repeatedly slamming it. And it is childish and disrespecful."

Hypocrite, Severus heard the word echo in the back of his head. How many times a day had he himself slammed a door? Oh well, he was raising Harry to be a better man than he was, wasn't he?

"I only did it once."

Severus sighed and reached for the hairbrush.

"I won't do it again. I was mad at Fudge. He's ruining everything!"

"Minister Fudge. And what exactly is he ruining?"

"He wants to take me away from you. He's going to be watching us and I'll do something stupid and he'll take me away and send me back to the Dursleys. I don't want to go back." Harry sniffed as two tears chased each other down his cheek.

Severus understood now. Fudge had threatened to remove Harry, and now the boy was terrified that he would be taken away. Severus wanted to curse that man with every dark spell he knew. But Fudge would have to fight tooth and nail to take Harry from him. Over his dead body. Severus pulled Harry into a tight hug, and the boy wrapped his arms around his neck.

"No one is taking you from me," Severus assured Harry. "I will not allow it and nothing you do will cause such an action. Our blood adoption was strong, as are the wards around my house. You are safest with me and Minister Fudge knows that. You are never going back to your relatives. Ever."

Severus pushed Harry back and dragged his thumbs across Harry's cheeks, wiping away a couple tears. He smiled at Harry, fixing the boy's askew glasses. "You are mine now, Harry. And you are stuck with me."

Harry smiled back at Severus. "You promise? But Minister Fudge seemed pretty sure . . ."

"Minister Fudge has not yet learned that he shouldn't mess with what I call mine."

"I guess he'll learn the hard way." Harry leaned forward and hugged Severus again. "Thank you, Professor. I'm sorry about my behavior this morning."

Severus returned the hug. "I forgive you. It's been a rough morning. But if you ever kick me again, you will be getting the hairbrush, not all these hugs."

Harry laugh and pulled back. "If you say so."

Severus narrowed his eyes at Harry. The boy didn't believe him! Severus's eyes trailed up to the boy's still messy hair, and he picked up the brush and tried to fix the damage. That hair would learn to obey him just as Harry was.

"Professor," Harry whined, trying to tolerate the knot pulling. He winced at one rough tug and used a hand to shove the brush away. "Dad, stop."

Severus froze, his eyes wide as he stared blankly at his son. Had he heard that correctly? Harry seemed to realize what he had said and he hid his face in his hands. "I—err, I mean . . ."

Severus pulled Harry's hands away from his face, using a finger under the boy's chin to direct his head and eyes upward to Severus's own.

"Dad," he began, "is perfectly fine with me."

Harry licked his lips and offered a small smile, but before he could say anything, a knock interrupted their moment. Severus frowned, moving Harry aside to stand. He opened his quarters door and nearly stepped back.

It had to be a cruel joke, as if someone had dressed a toad in pink and called it a secretary. There, standing in front of him, was Madam Dolores Umbridge presenting him with a large smile. She held up a clipboard.

"Professor . . . Severus Snape?" She asked, looking up at Severus.

Severus shut the door and leaned against it. "Is it too early for a drink?" He asked himself, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

"Professor?" Harry asked, picking up his bag and tilting his head at Severus. "Who is it?"

"A talking pig," Severus answered, sighing when the woman knocked on his door again. This couldn't be the agent Fudge had sent, could it?" He opened the door again.

Umbridge was still smiling. "I believe you forgot to invite me in, Professor."

"Did I? Common etiquettes must have slipped my mind. Please, come in."

Chapter Text

"Please, come in and I will call for tea," Severus said, allowing Umbridge to walk through his door. Umbridge looked around his quarters then immediately began writing on her clipboard. Severus rolled his eyes as he shut the door. The woman was probably commenting on the lack of pink in his quarters. Umbridge's eyes fell on Harry and her smile grew.

"You must be Harry Potter," she said.

"Yeah, who are you?" Harry asked, making a face at her choice in outfit.

"Harry," Severus scolded lightly, "introduce yourself properly."

Harry looked at Severus incredulously, but seeing the man's stern face, he looked back at Umbridge. He smiled and held out a hand. "Yes, I'm Harry. It's nice to meet you."

Umbridge shook his hand, releasing it quickly. "I am Senior Undersecretary Dolores Umbridge. I am here to oversee your so-called . . . relationship with Professor Severus Snape."

Harry frowned at the woman, adjusting his bag on his shoulders. "You're the agent Fudge talked about."

"Minister Fudge," Severus corrected. He tapped the coffee table and tea appeared. He was trying hard not to be too annoyed with Harry's behavior. He, himself, did not like the woman in his quarters, but he would not allow himself or Harry give off a bad image on their first meet.

"It will if you leave us alone," Harry muttered, looking down.

"I believe it is time for Mister Potter to head to class," Severus said. He snapped his fingers, a slip of parchment appearing in his hand. He held it out for Harry. "Here is a note for Professor Flitwick. I am sure he will be understanding for my having a word with you about your grades."

Harry rolled his eyes and reached for the note, but Severus did not let it go at Harry's tug. Harry visibly swallowed and peered up at Severus through his fringe. Severus glared down at the boy, his eyes narrowing. It was a warning and Harry knew it. He muttered an apology and Severus released the note.

"Off with you," Severus said, jerking his head toward the door. "I will see you later."

Harry nodded and slowly left the quarters. Umbridge was scribbling on her clipboard, but when Harry left, she smiled up at Severus.

"Children, hmm?" she said. "Such precious little things."

Severus said nothing. He held out a cup of tea that Umbridge accepted but did not drink from. "Well, your quarters could use a little color—brighten up the place, you know? Children need vibrancy in their life, it's good for brain development, I hear. Anyway, as you are aware, I will be watching you and Harry Potter very closely for the next couple weeks. It's really just to make sure all is well in the boy's homelife."

"The blood wards the blood adoption created will keep Harry safe."

"Yes, I'm sure they will. But will Harry be safe with you? That's what the Ministry really wants to know. Ex-Death Eater, isn't that right?"

"I was a spy. And that was years ago."

"But loyalties never change too drastically in most people's life. At least, not from what I've seen in my career, but you'd know nothing of that."

"My loyalties are to Albus Dumbledore," Severus said plainly.

"Perhaps so, but what loyalties do you have for Harry Potter? We all were under the impression that you hated the boy."

"People can change."

"So much so that you adopt the very same child you hated less than four months ago?"

"Tell me, when was the last time you cared for someone else in your life?"

Umbridge sneered at Severus, who raised an eyebrow at her. Huffing, Umbridge scribbled on her clipboard, stepping toward the door, the teacup levitating beside her until it settled down on the coffee table. Umbridge turned, facing Severus.

"Your history will be investigated thoroughly, Professor Snape," she said. "As well as your current affairs and relations. And we will be keeping a close eye on how you treat Mr. Potter. If either of you step a single toe out of line, the child will be placed in Ministry care faster than you can blink."

With that, Umbridge left Severus's quarters, leaving behind a seething man.

"It's a bit early for a drink, don't you think, Severus?"

"It's just a shot," Severus argued, downing the last bit of his drink before snapping his fingers, vanishing the glass.

"Careful you do not fall into old habits. Now would be the worst time to do so."

"She's going to go through everything, Albus," Severus said, dragging a hand down his face. He paced in the headmaster's office. Ever since that morning, he had been stressing about the next few weeks. He had been admittingly overly harsh with his two morning lectures, taking thirty points from fifth year Gryffindors and a combined fifteen from third year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. He even took ten points from his own house when a fifth-year student could not answer his question fast enough. But he just could not get Fudge's words out of his head. "And knowing Fudge, he will grant her access to whatever she wishes."

"The past is in the past, my boy," Albus said.

"That doesn't matter—not to her, not to him. Do you have any idea the things I did working for the Dark Lord? You were there at my trial, you know what's documented." Severus sighed and leaned into his hands on Albus's desk. He closed his eyes and shook his head. "I'm going to lose him."

"Don't think like that."

"How can I not? The cards are stacked against me! But I can't lose him now, I just . . ."

"The blood adoption was successful and strong. You must have faith in it, Severus. With the blood wards around your house, there is no safer place for Harry on this planet. We know that, Minister Fudge knows that, and Umbridge will do as she is told. You must keep yourself together and keep Harry in line. I'm sure you two will succeed in removing the Ministry's interference from your lives."

"He has classes tomorrow," Severus protested weakly.

"One night couldn't hurt," Albus said. "You both need this time together to get your minds off school, work, and the Ministry. A little father and son bonding time. Doesn't that sound splendid?"

"Hmm," Severus mused, relenting. "I will not keep Harry out late, but I suppose dinner out would be fair enough."

"That's the spirit," Albus said. "And as far as the Ministry, I trust you Severus. And I will stand at your side through this. You have my full support."

"Thank you. Harry and I will leave after my afternoon classes are complete."

Severus left the headmaster's office and made his way to the Owlery. He called to his tawny owl, Castiel. He summoned parchment and a quill, writing a letter to Harry to meet him at his quarters before dinner. He sent the owl on its way, knowing lunch was being served in the Great Hall now. Severus made his ways down to the potions classroom to prepare for his next classes.

He was still not in a good mood when dinner rolled around. After two more classes where he had taken several more points and sent one student away in tears, he was more than ready to get out of the school. He tried to take several deep breaths as he led Harry away from Hogwarts past the apparition wards. The boy seemed excited for a night out and Severus tried to focus on the joyous energy radiating off Harry.

"Where are we going, Professor?" Harry asked, kicking a stone along the path.

"London, preferably," Severus answered. "I will not have to worry about your appearance in the muggle world. What are you in the mood for tonight? Anything specific?"

"What do you mean 'specific?'"

"Like Greek, or Italian, or—I don't know, Chinese, even."

"I've never had Chinese food before," Harry said, frowning in thought. "Or spaghetti. Once, Aunt Petunia made spaghetti for dinner and all she gave me was the leftover uncooked noodles. They made my stomach hurt."

"Are you saying you'd like to try some real Italian or no Italian at all?" Severus frowned down at Harry.

Harry shrugged and Severus huffed. "Italian, it is," he decided, grabbing Harry's arm and pulling him close. They apparated away from Hogwarts, landing on a busy street in London. Severus paused as Harry made a face and licked his lips uncomfortably.

"What was wrong with the train or something?" Harry asked.

"You'll get used to it. Come."

Severus led the way down the street, Harry following. They stepped into one restaurant which was very crowded with many people already seated and several still standing. Severus spoke to the hostess who informed him that there was a ninety-minute wait. Severus growled under his breath and ushered Harry out. Of course, nothing would go well tonight either. It was just one of those days, he supposed.

"Now what?" Harry asked.

"I think I know another place nearby. Stay with me please." Severus walked at a fast clip, Harry barely managing to keep at his side. They turned a block and crossed the road before coming to another restaurant, but Severus drew to a halt just before it, glaring at the door.

"Closed," Harry read. "Kind of early to be closed, isn't it?"

"Not when the owner is on vacation," Severus muttered, reading the note before glancing around and grabbing Harry's arm. He apparated them to a different section of London. He paused as Harry breathed deeply and glared up at him.

"Still in London," Severus said. "There's an Italian restaurant just down the road from here."

Harry blinked. "We couldn't take a bus?"

"No, we don't need a bus—it'll be a waste of money better spent elsewhere. Although, I'll admit all this apparating is draining, so hopefully, I can avoid it until after we've eaten. Let's go."

"We don't have to eat Italian if there's nowhere available," Harry said. "I'll try Chinese."

"Nonsense," Severus shook his head, walking out of the alleyway. "There's plenty of Italian places around, one of them is bound to have a table for two."

"I don't think I'll be hungry anymore if we have to apparate again," Harry said, rubbing his stomach.

"I have a stomach soother if you need it," Severus said.

Harry made another face and shook his head. They were both silent until Severus put an arm out to stop Harry from walking into the street, startling the boy out of his thoughts, a car honking as it flew by.

"Pay attention to where you are going," Severus said.

"Sorry," Harry said. They waited until the signal across the street gave them the go ahead to cross. "Are we really going out to celebrate the adoption?"

"Of course, why else would we be going out?"

"I heard Professor McGonagall talking to Um—err, Madame Umbridge earlier today about . . ."

"One moment, when did you hear them talking?"

"Earlier this afternoon, right before lunch. They were outside Professor McGonagall's office."

"And instead of giving them the privacy they deserved you eavesdropped?" Severus stopped walking and turned toward Harry, glaring down at the boy.

"I didn't mean to. I was going back to my dorm to put my things away before lunch and they weren't exactly being quiet. Umbridge was asking McGonagall—"

"Professor McGonagall, and its Madam Umbridge to you, young man."

Harry bit back an annoyed growl and just nodded his head. "She was asking what Professor McGonagall knew about the Dursley's. And then she asked about you. Professor McGonagall didn't really give any answers, then Madam Umbridge said that you were already in a foul mood after speaking with her that morning. She said your disop—I mean, dis-disposition would be enough to have me gone."

Severus tried not to let those words affect him. "And what would that conversation have to do with us going out?"

"Well, I didn't know if you'd really want to celebrate after talking with her. I overheard some other students saying what an awful mood you've been in all day. I thought maybe you were just using the adoption thing as an excuse to get out of the castle."

"I would never do that, Harry," Severus said honestly. "We are out to celebrate your being adopted. Madam Umbridge just happened to be an unfortunate start to the day."

Harry offered a small smile.

"As for the eavesdropping . . ."

Harry's smile fell. "I said I didn't mean to. It won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't," Severus said, jerking his head toward the restaurant at the end of the sidewalk before walking for it once more. Harry frowned as he followed, keeping close to Severus as the sky darkened and crowds started heading in doors to escape the chilly air.

"Professor?" Harry asked, looking up at the man.

However, Severus's thoughts strayed. That woman would be the death of him. His disposition indeed. She was the reason his mood had been sour since that morning. If the Ministry could learn to leave well enough alone, there would be no problem. But no, the Ministry had to dig up his past, judging every little mistake he had made—the biggest being his Death Eater past and misfortunes. They could not honestly blame him for the crimes he committed under the Dark Lord's command, especially if he pulled the spy card.

"Professor?"

And what of his past home life? His childhood? He was sure the Ministry would believe he was no better than the abusive father who raised him. After all, father like son, and one tended to raise children in the style their own parents raised them, whether the parenting style was right or wrong. And then throw in his alcohol abuse and he had himself a losing case. Severus closed his eyes tightly, pinching the bridge of his nose for a second before watching where he was going. He was fighting a losing battle. He just knew it. And the last thing he wanted was to lose Harry.

"Hey, stop a minute," Harry's voice snapped as a small hand grabbed Severus's sleeve.

Severus spun around, grabbing Harry's wrist and pulling the boys hand off his robe before releasing Harry. He pointed a stern finger at the boy, glaring at him.

"Do not 'hey' me. You will never address me in such a manner again, is that clear?"

"Okay, sorry," Harry said, rubbing his wrist as his eyes scanned for any onlookers. "But you weren't listening to me."

"That does not give you the right to be disrespectful."

"I wasn't trying to be. I was just trying to get your attention. Worked, didn't it?" Harry muttered the last part.

Severus took a step closer to Harry, closing the little bit of distance between them. He lowered his voice as he asked, "Do I need to find us a restroom, Harry?"

"No, I don't have to . . ." Harry's eyes widened, obviously recalling the trip to Diagon Alley. He shook his head and took a step back. "No, no, I'm sorry. Why are you so mad at me?"

"I'm not mad at you," Severus said after a sigh. He dragged a hand wearily down his face. "It's been a long day. Do you still want to eat out? We haven't exactly had time alone since school started up. And this is a privilege, remember."

"I know." Harry said, watching his shoe crush a small pebble.

Severus led the last couple of feet to the restaurant, where they were seated immediately at a small booth. Severus glanced over the menu, his eyes quickly falling on the drink variety. Harry barely looked at his menu. Instead, the boy rested his head on the table, kicking his feet as he lifted the menu up enough to read from his position.

"Sit up," Severus said, pulling his eyes off the menu to glare at Harry.

Harry huffed but sat up. He pushed the menu away and crossed his arms.

"Have you decided on something then?" Severus asked.

"No, I'm not hungry."

"Not nearly half an hour ago, you were excited to eat out and now you are not hungry?"

Harry shook his head. Severus bit back an annoyed growl and took several deep breaths to control his sparking anger. After a moment, he narrowed his eyes at Harry and asked, "Are you sure? We traveled all the way out here and we've just been seated."

"Then maybe we shouldn't have left Hogwarts."

"I am trying to be very patient with you . . ."

"Oh, now you are." Harry lowered his head, glaring at his shoes.

"Harry James Potter," Severus said, leaning forward slightly and lowering his voice, "you are treading on thin ice. It has been a long, stressful day and all I ask from you is a quiet, peaceful dinner in celebration of your adoption."

"You can't force me to celebrate," Harry said, sliding out of his seat. "And I'm not hungry."

With that, Harry stood and left their table. Severus was surprised at the action, but he quickly slid out of his own seat and followed the boy. He grabbed Harry by the arm, turning the child to face him. He lowered his head, so they were nearly nose to nose.

"You are going to walk back to our table this instant."

"No, let me go."

"You are causing a scene. Do you really want this to escalate right here, right now?"

"I just want to go back to Hogwarts. I don't want to be here anymore. Not if you're just going to keep snapping at me!"

Those words hit Severus deep for some reason. So, he was the one snapping, eh? Of course, Harry Potter was never to blame, the wonderful Chosen One. It's not like Harry had had his own share of cheeky comments that were completely unnecessary this evening. But only Severus was at fault.

"Fine," Severus said, dragging Harry out of the restaurant, ignoring the curious yet nosy looks from seated customers. "You can eat alone in your room and then you're grounded."

"What?" Harry protested as they walked out the door into the dark streets of London once more. "Why am I grounded—I didn't do anything wrong! Stop pulling me around. Let go!" Harry yanked away from Severus, freeing his arm. In that same moment, Severus snatched Harry's arm once again, pulled the boy close to him and landed two hard smacks to his rear.

"We're in public!" Harry hissed between his teeth, his face turning red as tears of embarrassment welled in his eyes. Thankfully, no one had been around to see, but Harry couldn't help but scan the surrounding streets with his eyes.

"I have had enough with you and your mouth tonight," Severus began, pointing a finger at Harry.

"What about yours!?" Harry asked, glaring. "Why do you get to be an arse but I can't be unhappy?"

Severus bit back several retorts, painfully biting down on his tongue, willing to get his temper under control, willing his emotions to keep at bay over this entire situation. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, refusing to let himself do something he might regret to his newly adopted son. Without reacting to the anger he felt inside him, a new emotion tried to break free, reminding him that he could lose Harry because of his messed up past. And it hurt.

"Dad?" Harry asked, his voice softer.

Severus didn't move. He was still pinching the bridge of his nose, perhaps as an attempt to cover his face as well. He took several deep breaths in and out of his nostrils, one of his deep inhales hitching slightly. He just focused on breathing. It was all he could think to do at this moment. Breathe in. Breathe out.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, stepping closer to Severus. "Don't be sad. It's okay."

Harry wrapped his arms around the man's middle and Severus brought his arms around the boy's shoulders, pulling the child against his chest. Severus felt a rush of calmness wash over him as he hugged his son. He rubbed Harry's back in comforting circles.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked.

Severus brushed Harry's hair back, the action alone releasing much of the tension he had bottled up in him. "I'm all right."

"I'm sorry," Harry said again.

"I should be the one apologizing to you," Severus said. "And I'm sorry for being so short with you."

"It's okay," Harry said. "I'm sorry for being . . . short, too."

Severus snorted. "It seems we both have a temper. One that easily feeds off the other."

"I know what we need," Harry said, smiling up at Severus.

"Hmm. And what would that be?"

"Chocolate! I was thinking we could get chocolate ice cream and chocolate cake. Yeah, and for dessert, chocolate frogs and . . ."

"If you think I'm letting you eat chocolate for dinner and dessert, you will be greatly disappointed. We'll head back to Hogwarts and eat in our quarters. And you are having chicken and greens for dinner. We'll try Italian another night. Then I believe you and I need to have a talk."

Harry sat on the sofa sipping a cup of steamy hot chocolate in the warmth of the crackling fire in the fireplace. Severus knew it wasn't quite the dessert the boy would have asked for, but it would have to do. He sighed as he walked over to the sofa, sitting next to the boy with his own spiked hot chocolate. Harry instantly moved closer to him, leaning into his side while he put an arm around the boy's shoulders.

"About earlier this evening," Severus began. "I realize that I . . . am more like my father in ways I haven't even bothered to recognize. And one of those ways is I can be temperamental, especially when I am stressed."

"I knew that since my first potions class," Harry smiled, looking up at Severus.

"With that said," Severus continued, unable to resist smirking down at Harry, "I did not mean to lash out at you today. I took out a lot of my frustrations on you simply because you were the only person around me and I was—am angry with the Ministry and . . . admittedly, unsure about what will happen in the next few weeks."

"I thought the blood wards were strong."

"They are. I am very confident in the adoption and the blood wards. It is my own . . . history I am unsure about. I've told you some of it and—"

"I don't need to hear more," Harry shook his head against Severus. "I trust you."

The words startled Severus. He watched Harry took a long sip of his chocolate before their eyes met again. "You do?" Severus asked, taking a long sip of his chocolate, the alcohol he added giving a relaxing warmth down his throat.

"Yeah. I mean you saved me from that broom jinx, you believed me about the Dursleys even when I didn't want to tell and didn't let me go back to them over the holidays. You gave me a cool present, and a home, and . . . I don't know, I just do."

"Thank you, Harry," Severus said, leaning down and planting a kiss on Harry's head. "That's all I need from you."

"And hugs," Harry said, wrapping his arms around Severus. "Obviously. Otherwise you get really grumpy."

"Is that the impression I've given you?" Severus narrowed his eyes. "I think you've had too much sugar for one night."

Severus reached to take Harry's hot chocolate mug, but Harry snatched it and downed the rest of it. Severus snorted as Harry set the mug down on the coffee table and leaned in against him once more.

"Little brat," he commented, ruffling the boy's unruly hair.

Harry yawned, stretching out more on the sofa and lowering himself until his head rested in Severus's lap. Severus took another gulp of his chocolate as he watched Harry.

"You should get in bed or head up to your dorm," he suggested, patting Harry's shoulder. "It's getting pretty late."

"It's not even ten yet," Harry yawned again, looking over at the grandfather clock.

"You've had a trying day, and you know what your bedtime is at home."

"Home," Harry smiled, his eyes closing. "I like when you say that. Home."

Severus finished his mug of chocolate, knowing Harry was falling sleep. He couldn't bring himself to wake the child. His child. He absently rubbed circles on Harry's back as he stared into the fireplace, thinking about what Harry had said. After a while, he looked down at the boy, noting his deep, even breathing. He gathered Harry in his arms, carrying the boy to his bedroom. Severus flicked his wand at Harry to transfigure his clothes into nightwear. Severus smiled at his son.

"This is your home, now, child," Severus said, turning out the lights. "And I'll keep it that way."

Chapter Text

"Turn to page two hundred and six," Severus snapped at his class, pacing the front as he waited for everyone to do so.

The first year Gryffindors and Slytherins quickly plopped their books on the desk and flipped through the pages. Severus's eyes fell on Harry, who had his head down as he flipped slowly to the correct page. It had been three weeks now, and the child had been on his best behavior—surprisingly. Umbridge had sat in on two of their classes so far, and Severus knew she'd probably rear her ugly head in this lesson as well. Severus would never admit it, but he hated when the toad came into his classes.

When it had quieted down, Severus began his lecture.

"Which of you can tell me what aconite was historically used for?"

Everyone sat in motionless silence; except for Hermione, whose hand was waving around in the air.

"No one? It was in your required reading . . ."

Severus trailed off as the door opened and Umbridge herself, in all her pink obscurity, strolled into the classroom. Severus ground his teeth as he watched the woman settle herself in the back as she had down previously, smiling up at him as she held up her quill, parchment ready. All the students had turned to look at her, but having grown used to her presence, everyone turned back to look at Severus. Hermione waved her hand, nearly rising out of her seat.

Severus glared at the woman before he snarled at the girl, "Miss Granger."

Hermione rose her hand.

"Besides Miss Granger."

Harry glanced back at Umbridge before raising his hand as well. Severus quirked an eyebrow at the child. After the blood adoption, Harry had taken great care in raising all of his grades. However, he hardly tried answering questions since Severus still had a roll to play and an image to keep. When Umbridge monitored his lessons, Harry was more involved, and Severus couldn't help but wonder if Umbridge wanted him to fail.

"Mr. Potter?" Severus asked.

"It's used in the Wolfsbane potion, isn't it, sir?"

"You tell me, Potter."

"It is, sir."

Severus sneered at the boy half-halfheartedly. He debated if he should give points or not just to appease Umbridge when he was saved from his inner dilemma by Hermione, whose hand had shot up in the air. He sighed and motioned for her to ask her question.

"I don't understand, sir," she began, frowning slightly, "if aconite is toxic, especially for wolves, why use it in a potion for werewolves? Couldn't it kill them?"

Severus's eyes trailed from Hermione to Umbridge—who looked far too eager for his answer—then over to Harry and finally back to Hermione. Normally, he would snap at the girl for reading ahead in her book just so she could prove what an insufferable know-it-all she could be, then take points and leave it at that. However, he knew exactly what Umbridge was waiting for, and he couldn't give in to the temptation.

"If brewed incorrectly," Severus said, "the potion could kill a werewolf instead of relieving the symptoms and maintaining one's sanity. The mistake would most likely be too much aconite or improperly handled aconite."

"But why use it at all if it the risks are so high? You don't want to kill the werewolf, just elp him, right?"

The girl was very smart. He should ban her from his classroom.

"In a way, you are "killing" the werewolf. A werewolf has no control, no humanity. The Wolfsbane preserved this post-transformation. The werewolf can keep his humanity, and more importantly, his savage beast in check. Therefore, the aconite is crucial to the potion, for no other ingredient can sedate a werewolf. Is that answer sufficient enough?"

Hermione nodded, a small smile on her lips.

"Good. Now remain silent for the remainder of the class."

Hermione's smile fell. Umbridge snorted in the back of the classroom and scribbled on her parchment once more. Severus continued with his lecture.

"If any of you think I would allow first years to mess around with aconite in my classroom, I suggest you have your heads checked by Madam Pomfrey."

After a long lecture on aconite, its uses and the proper way to prepare it, the students were dismissed. Severus ignored the mutters of the students commenting on how the pink lady was there to monitor their evil potions professor, and that Severus was only acting "nicer" because he didn't want to be fired. In minutes, it was Severus and Umbridge alone in the room.

Umbridge took her time packing herself up, reviewing her notes as she strutted over to Severus.

"I must say, you handle your classroom quite well," she said. "I think you need a little more discipline over your students. They all should know how to properly respect you. I do approve of how you shut up the little . . . muggleborn."

Severus narrowed his eyes but said nothing. He watched as Umbridge looked at another parchment, making checkmarks down the page.

"Let's see here," she muttered, "suitable quarters, fed and dressed, decent classroom behavior, could use more silence . . ."

Severus rolled his eyes at the last one. Umbridge's eyes sparkled as she lifted her head and eyed Severus.

"Ahh, house check. My personal favorite."

Severus glared but his heart did pick up its pace. He could only imagine what Umbridge would have to say of his living arrangements.

"And—would you look at that! It's a Friday, and that means this was your only morning class. We have plenty of time to make a trip to your house. Isn't this exciting?"

"I'm ecstatic," Severus replied.

After a walk away from the school and turning a stick into a portkey, Severus waited for Umbridge to grab the other end of the stick and they were both transported away to his house in Spinner's End. Severus threw the stick aside as it was a one-use charm. He could easily bewitch an object in his house. He bit back a snarl at Umbridge's tutting.

"A muggle neighborhood," Umbridge remarked, scrawling away. "And a . . ." Umbridge looked up at the house in front of her. She glanced at Severus. "You're positive this is the right address?"

Severus didn't dignify her question with an answer. He marched up the stairs and used his wand to disable his locking charms since he was back sooner than expected. He stepped inside and held the door open for Umbridge.

When Harry had visited for the holidays, Severus used several charms to tidy up the house, so it still looked fresh and clean as Umbridge walked around the living room.

"Small but . . . comfortable, I suppose," she huffed.

"I live alone," Severus said, watching the woman pick drag her finger along the mantle. "Or, I did. I see no reason for a house any bigger than this."

"This was your parents' home, wasn't it?" Umbridge studied the large grandfather clock then walked over to the traditional stone fireplace. She squinted her eyes at a small fracture in the stone structure, picking at it with a nail.

"It was." Silence reigned.

"Hmm. What happened here?" Umbridge motioned to the small fracture.

"It's old," Severus answered without a blink. "It chips."

"It only chips here?"

Severus rolled his eyes. "I did not specialize in architecture. It's a small indent, hardly worthy of this attention."

Umbridge walked away from the fireplace with indignation, leaving the living room. She walked down the hall, scribbling on her parchment as she did. She barely gave the bathroom more than a swivel of her head before opening a closed door.

Severus followed.

In the kitchen, Umbridge opened cabinets and drawers. Severus resisted snapping at her from the entryway. He was sure she was doing her job. The wrong word might cost him everything. Umbridge opened the fridge and she paused for a minute too long. Severus stepped closer to see what she was staring at.

"You keep alcohol in the house." It was a statement, not a question.

Severus bit his tongue before saying, "Many households, with younger children than Harry, keep alcohol in the house. I do not believe this is an uncommon occurrence."

"Given your history, it should not be an occurrence," Umbridge said, shutting the fridge.

Severus felt an increasing wave of uneasiness as Umbridge spent a while writing whatever down. When she finally stopped writing, she left the kitchen without a word, heading up the stairway. Severus sighed and followed the woman, who glanced inside each bedroom, asking for who each one belonged to. When Severus answered that the bedroom toward the end of the hall was Harry's, Umbridge took a minute to study it.

"What, you couldn't give the boy a four-poster bed?" Umbridge sneered at the twin-sized bed. "Or is that out of your budget?"

Severus didn't answer.

"No matter. At least it's something to sleep on. Had the Ministry taken the boy in, he'd have at least a king-sized four-poster, nothing less."

Severus almost remarked how a twin-sized bed was far better than a lumpy mattress in a cupboard, but he decided against it. Umbridge left the upstairs and paused in front of the fireplace once more. Her next question caught Severus off guard.

"Do you ever drink in front of the boy?" Umbridge asked, meeting Severus's eyes.

"No." The lie rolled off Severus's tongue too easily.

Umbridge huffed and wrote on her parchment. She shook her head, glancing around the house once more before writing some more on her parchment. She waved her wand in a pattern Severus recognized as a ward tester. After a minute, she wrote on her parchment. Severus crossed his arms as he waited for her to finish and leave so he could ward the house against the likes of her.

"Well, Professor Snape," Umbridge said, "I must say, I have not been impressed with this house visit. And given your history of alcohol abuse, your own childhood, your "spying" as you called it, and . . . your heritage, I do not think the Ministry will be overtly fond of my report. As much as it pains me to say this, I believe the boy will be better off placed in the care of the Ministry. Surely, if you cared so much for this child, you will agree with me."

With that, the infuriating woman apparated away before Severus could even think of a protest.

Taking deep, heavy breaths, Severus lips thinned, and he glared at where Umbridge had stood. His eyes strayed to the chip in the stone fireplace, focusing on the sharp edges and lighter shade of the rock beneath.

"You are just like your father," Eileen's words echoed in his head.

Nineteen-year-old Severus opened his eyes and looked up at his mother, the harsh light surrounding her form blinding his eyes. He closed them and shook his head before squinting up at his mother again. His head throbbed and the hard cushions of the couch did nothing for his back.

"And here I thought there might actually be some hope for you," Eileen sneered down at her son, her arms crossed. "What did you do last night?"

Severus pushed himself up, rubbing his face, his bare arms visible. A delayed hiss escaped his mouth as his mother snatched his wrist and forced his arm out, his entire body still sore from the curse he had been subjected to last night. The Dark Mark was still fresh, the skin around it red and inflamed.

"You bastard." Eileen let go of his wrist and slapped Severus across the face. He didn't feel it. "You racist son of a bitch—you're a halfblood!"

"I can be better than that now," Severus said slowly, since he had to really think about the words he wanted to say.

"And you're hungover," Eileen said, her nose crinkling. "Had to celebrate your initiation, hmm?"

"It helped the pain." Severus swung his legs over, so he sat upright on the couch. He buried his head in his hands, applying pressure to ease his headache.

"Well I hope you're numb. Maybe it'll help when I say that the police just called. Your father died in a car accident last night while you were out with your buddies."

Severus's wide eyes snapped up to his mother's. But he did not feel saddened by the news and the shock that his father passed faded quickly. He shook his head and looked back down, feeling dizzy.

"He was driving drunk, of course. Drove right into a stone wall—the idiot. And look at you, father like son. Did you apparate home? You could have splinched yourself."

"Why do you care?" Severus asked.

Eileen huffed. "You always assume the worst of me. After everything I've done for you, this is what I get? An ungrateful waste of a man. What made you think joining the dark was the way to go? Taking that disgusting mark for what? Glory? To show just how evil you can be? To prove something?"

"The Death Eaters are what make the Wizarding World great. There is no good or evil—only power. And those too weak to seek it." Severus quoted the man he had learned those words from.

"You will never have power." Eileen brushed her hair back. "You will never be anything to anyone on this Earth. You are no better than the man who sired you. You are worth no more than the muggle who raised you. Your new friends will quickly realize that. You cannot hide your blood. To the wizarding world, you are nothing!"

In a drunken rage, Severus snatched one of the empty beer bottles and threw it at his mother, who quickly side-stepped the miscalculated throw. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened as she watched the glass shatter against the wall. She panted while Severus seethed at her.

"So be it," Eileen said, gathering a bag resting on the armchair. "You can stay here and burn this hellhole to the ground with yourself inside it!"

And those were the last words his mother said to him before disappearing through the floo. The weak blasting hex Severus cast from his wand struck the stone fireplace, chipping it. It was the last time he ever saw her again.

Severus took several deep breaths. He shook the memory away and pinched the bridge of his nose. Had he truly lost this battle? Despite everything he did to ensure Harry could stay with him, he was losing. He spun on the spot and apparated away.

"Severus, what brings you here?" Dumbledore asked, sitting at his desk.

Severus closed the door to the headmaster's office and began pacing immediately. He had been miserable the moment he returned to the castle, terrorizing his last two classes to tears. He picked at his dinner, his eyes preferring to stay on Harry the entire time in the Great Hall. Finally, he found himself in the headmaster's office.

"That wretched woman performed a house check," he managed to say after a few minutes.

"I see," Dumbledore eyed the man carefully. "And all went well?"

"Of course, it did not go well." Severus threw his hands in the air. "She criticized everything, from the boy's bedroom to my damn fireplace! She's going to win this, the Ministry will listen to her, and I'll lose him, Albus."

"Now, Severus, you are jumping to conclusions." Albus stood from his desk and moved around it. "It will take a little more than just Madam Umbridge's report to have Harry removed from you. Those files must be processed and reviewed, and then there's usually a follow up and a second . . ."

"You don't get it." Severus jerked away from Albus when the man neared him. "There's too much against me! Every bit of my past is a red flag! A huge 'danger' sign. No one in their right mind would place a child in my care. What was I thinking?"

"You were thinking about a little boy who needed you more than you know," Albus said softly, remaining where he was. "And I am glad you did what you did, Severus. As is Harry. You cannot fall apart now. Not when you are so close to . . ."

"To losing everything?" Severus cut in, running a hand through his hair. "Harry will hate it there—they will parade that boy around and use him. I cannot allow that but I—"

"You will protect him."

"I can't."

"You can and you will. You always have."

"Not this time. I can't protect him from the ministry. I've tried so hard, but I can't do it. He might be safer in their care. I mean, look at me. How could anyone trust me?"

"I trust you." Albus placed a hand on Severus's shoulder.

Severus flinched and pulled away, keeping his back to the man. "You shouldn't."

"I will always trust you. I would trust you with my life."

"Why? Why would you do something so precarious as that? I can't even keep an eleven-year-old boy safe and you tell me that nonsense? I've lost, Albus. They're going to take him away from me. And I . . ."

Severus felt a strange new hurt flood his chest. He had never experienced it before, but he knew he needed to numb the feeling. He could not allow this hurt to swallow him whole. If there was one thing he still had control over, it was himself. If they wanted to take Harry, then they would take him whether he fought tooth and nail or not. He had already lost everything. He would have nothing once again, no family, no son, nothing.

"I . . ." Severus stammered, his face drawing blank.

"You what?" Albus asked gently, leaning forward slightly.

"I am nothing," Severus glared before turning for the door.

"No," Albus said, shaking his head sadly. "Don't do it, Severus. Not now."

Severus paused at the door, his hand on the knob.

"Please, Severus. You need to sleep on this. Perhaps take a walk through the fresh night air. Think about Harry."

But thinking about Harry hurt too much now. He could see Fudge dragging the confused child away, a smug Umbridge scribbling away on her parchment. It haunted him. Severus closed his eyes and shook his head before throwing the door open and leaving the headmaster's office.

He sped down to his quarters, locking the door behind him. He entered his kitchen and opened the fridge, pulling out a beer from the back. He opened the bottle and drank with need. He would be fine. He would get through this somehow. He just needed to numb the pain he felt. It would only take a single bottle. Or two. Or three . . .

Chapter Text

Severus slowly sipped his beer, letting the burn fizz down his throat. He closed his eyes, leaning back in his armchair. The room was dark, the only light coming from the fireplace, which gave him another warmth, and he could stay in that chair all night. And that was his plan. The buzz he felt was starting to fade into a numbness. He should probably slow down how quickly he was drinking to get back to that buzz once more. He lowered his third bottle of beer, swirling the small amount that remained.

The grandfather clock chimed, shaking the entire floor. Severus closed his eyes, the noise vibrating in his skull. It had been almost an hour and a half since he left the headmaster's office, and he wasn't quite satisfied yet. Harry was still on his mind. At this point, he should have forgotten about the boy. He should be numb to everything. The pain of losing the child he put so much effort into protecting, blood adopting even, was not gone. The fact that he had allowed himself to grow close to someone else had not left his mind. It should have by now. He should feel complete again. He should feel fixed again.

He didn't.

Severus finished the last swallow of his beer before sitting back in his chair. He opened his eyes and stared in the flames, but the flickering of the fire was too much for his eyes to focus on. Instead, he reached down and picked up an unopened bottle of beer resting at his feet. And so he began his fourth.

At that moment, the door to his quarters opened.

No one should have been able to open that door. The only one t was spelled to open for was himself.

And recently . . . Harry.

Harry slowly shut the door behind him, being careful to remain quiet. Severus narrowed his eyes as he watched the boy inch closer and closer, the room around Harry's figure tilting slightly like a seesaw. Harry paused a couple feet in front of Severus.

"Professor?" Harry's voice echoed in his ear.

"What are you doing here?"

"Professor Dumbledore asked me to come see you. Said you needed me. I didn't . . . err, I thought that you had told him . . . umm—What are you doing?"

"You should leave," Severus said, motioning to the door with the beer in his hand.

"I never look happy."

"That's not true," Harry mumbled, looking down at his feet.

The room would not stop seesawing now that Severus was trying to focus on the child in front of him. Severus took a small swallow of his beer. Then, he closed his eyes and shook his head. When he opened them, the room was still for a brief second, and he could actually see the confused look on Harry's face. Then, the seesawing picked up again.

"You're making me dizzy." Severus shook his head as he set his bottle down at his feet. He crooked a finger at Harry. "Come here."

Harry hesitated. He glanced back at the door, then took a single step forward. He paused again, but he was close enough for Severus to grab his wrist and pull him the rest of the way to him. The man didn't even register the slight resistance he felt as he pulled the child into his lap, wrapping an arm securely around Harry's waist. The boy pulled his head away, his nose scrunching. With a gentle hold on the boy's chin, Severus turned the child's face enough to kiss Harry's cheek before resting his head against Harry's.

"You have no idea what's happened today," Severus said softly.

"You can tell me," Harry said as he allowed himself to relax some. "What happened?"

Severus brushed Harry's hair back. Something inside himself told him he should kick the boy out of his quarters while he was heavily under the influence, but he didn't want to let Harry go now that he had him. He didn't want to send him away. He didn't want to lose him. The boy was all he had now.

"Dad?" Harry asked, frowning. "Are you okay?"

For a moment, Severus forgot how to form words and he stared at Harry blankly before he closed his eyes and shook his head.

"I am fine." Severus opened his eyes, looking down as his vision slowly focused. He noted an angry welt on Harry's hand and frowned, reaching for the injured hand.

"What is this?" Severus asked.

Harry yanked his hand away and said, "Nothing."

Severus felt anger boil in the pit of his stomach. "Do not lie to me, show me your hand."

"It's fine, really, it'll go away." Harry tried to push off Severus's lap, but Severus tightened his hold around Harry's waist. Harry gulped audibly. "Let me up, please."

Severus grabbed Harry's chin firmly, angling the boy's head so they were eye to eye. "Was it Umbridge? Tell me the truth."

Harry's green eyes were glassy now, but he nodded. "I ran into her in the hall today and she went on about switching custody to the Ministry and I got mad and said some things. It was just a ruler—she said for disrespecting elders or something like that. I deserved it." Harry squirmed in Severus's slowly tightening hold around him. "Please let go of me."

"You deserved it?" Severus's grip on Harry's chin tightened, "Absolutely not! That bitch is done with us—I'll see to it! She broke our contract with the Minister, and she will pay for that."

"Dad, you're hurting me," Harry said, gently grabbing at Severus's wrist.

Severus blinked for a few seconds, taking in Harry's wide eyes before releasing Harry's chin and loosening his arm around the child's waist. Harry jumped to his feet, rubbing at his chin and waist. Severus pushed to his own feet, wobbling slightly. He rested a hand on the arm of his chair until he found some balance, then turned sharply and made his way to the floo, nearly tripping over the coffee table. Harry frowned at him.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm going to have several words with Fudge," Severus answered, scanning the fireplace for his floo powder. He couldn't remember where he kept his container. Surely it was here somewhere.

"Now?"

"Yes, now."

"No!" Harry cried, latching on to Severus's arm and pulling the man away from the fireplace, nearly bringing Severus down.

Severus stumbled, catching himself before he fell over. He glared down at his son. "What do you think you're doing?"

"You're not leaving—not like this—you can't."

"Do not tell me what I can and cannot do. Last I checked, I am the adult here, not you."

"You're not acting like one," Harry said with a glare back at his father. "You can't leave."

"I'm floo-calling, not actually going over there, stupid boy."

"Don't call me that. I'm not letting you go."

"Stop this," Severus growled, trying to pry the boy's hands off his arm. Harry tightened his hold. "Enough. Let go."

"You stop. I won't let you ruin everything."

"I said let go!" Severus slapped Harry and watched dumbfounded as Harry stumbled, a hand flying up to cover a reddening cheek. A single tear trailed down Harry's cheek as he stared wounded at Severus, his jaw dropped. Harry closed his eyes, trying to fight back more tears.

Severus took a step back and wobbled on his feet as he tried to make sense of what he just did. Harry was holding his cheek and trying not to cry. His glasses had fallen off. He had actually done it. He had struck Harry. For a brief moment, everything was clear. He was in the wrong, every bit of what he was doing. He no longer felt any buzz from the alcohol. There was no warmth, just a coldness that engulfed his heart. And worse, he was not numb to anything, especially to the shock and pain of what he had just done to Harry.

Severus tried to kneel in front of Harry to inspect the damage, but as he lowered himself, he dropped harshly to his knees. The room swirled before he could see Harry also sitting on his knees in front of him.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked.

"I should be asking you that," Severus said, his hands finding Harry's glasses and picking them up. He tried to inspect hem for damage, but his hands trembled, so he handed them to Harry, who set them back on his face. There was silence for a moment before Harry spoke.

"Please don't talk to Fudge."

"No," Severus assured him with a shake of his head. He reached out a hand toward Harry. "I'm not doing anything. Let me see . . ."

Harry pulled his head away as Severus reached for his face, giving the man a suspicious look that hurt Severus, crippled him to his core. Severus's jerked his hand back and hesitated.

"I—I'm sorry," he said, before reaching for Harry again, much slower. "Let—let me look at it. I won't hurt you."

Harry still gave Severus a look, but this time, he did not move away as Severus gently stroked a thumb over the red cheek, feeling the swelling underneath. Harry winced at the slight pressure Severus applied and the man pulled back.

"Merlin, I've become my father," he muttered. He sighed and closed his eyes. "I have . . . something that I can put on it. It's err, it's called uh . . ." He was drawing a blank on the name of a potion. He raised his hand to summon the picture of the item in his mind, but he wasn't exactly sure if he was even using his magic or not. Here he was unable to help his child. Although, if not for him, there wouldn't be a need for his help.

"This?" Harry returned with a basic healing salve, dropping to his knees in front of Severus.

"No, but it'll do." Severus watched as Harry held the container out to him. He blinked. "You want me to apply it?" At Harry's nod, Severus accepted the container and scooped out a generous amount of the salve. He carefully and slowly applied the potion to Harry's cheek, but the harder he tried to focus on one spot, the more lightheaded he became. He shook his head and handed the container back to Harry. "Apply more of you need to, I can't . . ."

That admission of defeat was hard. Harry set the container down, but he did rub in the excess. Severus reached out and found the arm of the couch. He pulled himself up, keeping his hands on the arm as he waited for his brain to re-calibrate his balance. He sighed and said, "You need to leave."

"No, I'm not leaving you."

"Harry, please, just do as I say and go."

"No."

"Now." Severus glared at Harry, but the boy glared back. Severus sighed and pushed off the arm of the couch. "Fine. Stay in your room then."

Severus stalked away from Harry, going into his own bedroom. He might as well as sleep off this horrible substance before he did something else regrettable. He collapsed on his bed, clutching at his pounding head. A shuffle caught his attention and he looked over at Harry sitting in a chair he had dragged in from the dining table. He narrowed his eyes.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm staying right here in case you need anything," Harry said, crossing his arms stubbornly after kicking of his trainers. "And you can't make me leave, so don't bother."

"I struck you." Severus tried to make the boy see reason. The child was not safe near him. Perhaps the Ministry was right to remove Harry from his care. The thought hurt, but it was the second coherent thought he had had so far in the past couple hours.

"I know you didn't mean to."

Severus scoffed at that. "You are far too forgiving. An absolute dunderhead. And an insolent brat."

"Hey," Harry complained, frowning at Severus, pouting slightly. "You need me right now, so I'm staying whether you like it or not."

Severus turned on his side, propping himself up on an elbow as he studied Harry. And Severus thought himself stubborn. He was starting to feel awful deep inside past the drunken idiocy inside him. Here he was, drunk and incapable, and Harry was willing to stay awake and watch over him. He tilted his head sadly at his son. "I think I need a hug," he said.

"Really?" Harry asked, giving the man another suspicious look.

Severus motioned to the boy to come to him, and Harry was out of the chair and on his bed in seconds. Severus wrapped his arm around Harry, being careful not to tighten his hold too much as he rested his head against his son's. He knew they both needed this. Harry tucked his face into his neck, and he could feel the shaking boy relax, probably for the first time since he had arrived at his quarters that night. Severus felt worse for his actions. He wasn't about to let this boy mother him all night: he was just a child.

He pulled Harry down next to him, covering him with the blanket. He wrapped an arm around Harry, carding his fingers through the boy's hair.

"Go to sleep, Harry," he whispered, "I'll do the same. Glasses?" Severus held out his hand for them.

"No, you'll probably break them," Harry said, pulling off his own glasses and reaching over Severus to set them on the nightstand. He settled back down, resting his head on Severus's shoulder, yawning. "You'll wake me if you need anything?"

Severus snorted sadly and nodded, even if he had no true intention of doing that. He pulled the boy closer against him, stroking Harry's scalp gently.

"Good," Harry said, curling up against his father. Severus leaned down and planted a kiss on Harry's forehead, and the boy scrunched his nose. "You smell awful."

Severus smirked before purposely landing a quick kiss on Harry's nose.

"Hey," Harry complained, his face scrunched up, but he was smiling. "That's not funny."

"Agree to disagree," Severus commented before placing another kiss on Harry's cheek.

"You're being really nice now," Harry said emphasizing the 'really.'

"I'm always nice."

"Ha! Now that's funny!"

Severus snorted. He felt a surge of love for the child rush through him. How could he have let all these years go by without ever getting to really know Lily's son? He should have raised the boy instead of allowing Dumbledore to leave him with those horrid muggles. He moved his lips to the forming bruise on Harry's cheek, placing a soft kiss there before trailing up and brushing his lips at the corner of Harry's eye. This child should have been his. It was a startling thought, but in the moment, Severus deeply wished it were true.

"Okay, I get it," Harry interrupted, pulling away slightly, "you love me. Stop and go to sleep."

"What, I don't get any love in return?" Severus smirked.

Harry's smile faded.

"You want a kiss," he stated more than asked.

"I need a kiss," Severus corrected.

Harry hesitated, frowning as he said, "When I was little, Aunt Petunia used to slap me whenever I tried to kiss her."

"Do I look like your horse of an aunt?"

Harry laughed. "No."

Severus snorted as he settled down next to Harry and closed his eyes, exhaustion kicking in. Perhaps it was better that Harry had come to him tonight. If not, he would have enjoyed finishing that fourth bottle, or even a fifth before turning in for the night. The bed shifted, and Severus smiled as he felt Harry plant a quick kiss on his cheek. Harry rested his head against Severus's shoulder, closing his eyes. Severus opened his eyes and wrapped an arm around the boy.

"Love you, Dad."

"I love you more, brat," Severus said, placing one last kiss on Harry's temple.

"Dad, stop." Harry rolled over, his back against Severus's side. "Go to sleep now."

Told off by the kid. Severus watched Harry sleep for several long minutes. For the first time, he realized just how much his drinking would impact his life with Harry. He vowed then and there: he would break his addiction, and never touch the drink again. He should probably make this vow again when he was sober. He sneaked another kiss on the top of Harry's head before closing his own eyes and falling asleep.

The next morning came faster than Severus would have like. He squinted at the few rays of natural light striking through his charmed window, his dry mouth coated in thick saliva, and he moaned as he sat up. Nausea hit him, and his hand flew to cover his mouth as he swung his legs over the bed, the room swirling around him from the sudden movement. He swallowed several times before raising a hand and summoning a hangover potion. It would take alleviate some of his symptoms, but he knew from experience that the throbbing headache would not fade. The potion flew to his waiting hand and he choked it down in two gulps. He leaned his elbows into his knees, his head in his hands as he waited for the potion to work it's magic.

Last night was blurry, yet Severus did remember the most important thing that had occurred. He had struck Harry out of rage. Drunken anger and confusion, perhaps, but it was still a slap that had injured the boy. That alone could cost him everything.

The potion eased his stomach and kept the room from spinning, but his head still felt like an inflating and deflating balloon. He asked a house elf for a glass of water, and he drank with need. He sighed and glanced at the sleeping child in his bed, setting the empty glass down on his nightstand.

Harry was sleeping on his side, his dark hair sticking up, his hands under his chin. A red welt was still visible on the back of his hand. Severus laid back down, propping up on an elbow and carefully taking Harry's hand in his, studying the injury. How did the boy say he acquired it? He couldn't remember but he knew he would be discussing it with the child.

Severus's eyes strayed to the boy's cheek. A bruise had formed on his cheek. Why hadn't he applied a bruise balm last night? Severus raised his hand and summoned the vial, scooping a good amount of the potion out with a couple fingers and applying it to the boy's face. As he massaged the potion in, the bruise faded.

Harry's face scrunched up and he stretched, reminding Severus of a cat. Green eyes blinked open and met Severus's. The boy sleepily smiled and leaned into Severus's touch as the man finished applying the bruise balm.

"Morning," Harry smiled.

"Good morning," Severus responded, "how are you feeling?"

"Okay. My cheek feels cold." Harry rubbed his cheek once Severus finished. "Thank you. What about you? Are you okay?"

"Besides the hangover? Yes, I'll live." Severus sighed, staring sadly at the boy. "Are you sure you're all right? There's no lingering pain? Your jaw doesn't hurt? Maybe another layer, just to be sure."

"I'm okay, Dad," Harry insisted as Severus rubbed more bruise balm on his cheek. Severus paused when Harry addressed him but swallowed dryly and finished with the balm and setting the container aside, rubbing his hands together to remove some excess. Harry rubbed the cold feeling on his cheek away before saying, "I'm happy you're okay. You were acting really weird last night."

Severus shook his head, taking the boy's injured hand and rubbing the welt gently. "Did I scare you?"

Harry shrugged and said, "Maybe a little."

"I am so sorry, Harry. I never wanted you to see me like that. I hope you can forgive me for last night. I will see to it that whatever family you end up in, it will not be one where this ever occurs again."

"Wait, what?" Harry asked, sitting up. "What are you talking about?"

"Obviously, staying with me is not an option," Severus began. "I hurt you. I could have broken your jaw."

"But you didn't."

"That does not negate the fact that I did strike you in a rather dangerous manner. Any harder, I could have knocked you out."

"You weren't you! I don't blame you."

"Harry," Severus was prepared to scold the child. He was not prepared for the tears that started falling from the boys eyes.

"I should have just left, shouldn't've I? I'll listen next time, I promise."

"There won't be a next time. I can't let that happen. I did my best to . . . stop my habits, but they are hard to give up. What if I relapse again?"

"You won't—I'll help you."

"You will not. Listen to me: last night was dangerous. I could have really hurt you. I did!"

"I've had worse," Harry tried to argue, giving Severus a slight glare behind his tears.

"That"—Severus had to bite his tongue for a second to hold back the anger he felt toward the Dursleys—"That does not make this okay."

"I know it doesn't, I just . . ." Harry looked down. "I don't want to leave you. You made a mistake, and-and you can fix this. You don't have to send me away, I mean you did blood-adopt me and all, and-and we're so close to winning, you just need help is all—like how you helped me. I can help you or-or we can find someone else . . ."

"Harry . . ."

"I love you," Harry said, falling into Severus's arm. The man had to readjust himself in order to hug the child back. He sat against the headboard with the boy's arms wrapped around his torso, the child's face buried in his side, his muffled voice saying, "don't send me away. Please."

"I love you, too, child. And it is why I should send you away, if only for your safety. I don't want to do it. I've come to love you so much." Severus tightened his arms around the boy. He really didn't want to lose the child. But last night had been unacceptable. His mother's words rang through his head, and for a split second, he believed her words once more. He was nothing to the Ministry, and Umbridge had already said the child was as good as theirs.

Despite that, the child in his arms made him feel entirely different. To this boy, he was so much more than 'nothing.' He made sure this child did not go without on many occasions. He had saved this boy from returning to uncaring and abusive relatives. He had adopted the child. He had loved and cared for the boy when no one else had before. And yes, he was not easy to live with, he would agree to that, Harry wanted to stay with him of all people. Severus would never admit it to anyone else in this world, but he needed this child as much as the boy needed him. And he really wasn't ready to give up on the boy yet.

"All right," he said, rubbing the boy's shoulder. "Calm down. I'm sorry I brought this up. Let's make a deal."

Harry didn't let Severus go, but he did look up at the man with red-rimmed eyes.

"I will try my hardest to stop drinking," Severus said. "Completely. Not a drop more. If I succeed, I see no reason why you cannot remain in my care."

Harry smiled up at Severus, but the man gave the boy a stern look. The boy's smile fell at Severus's next declaration.

"If I fail, you will go somewhere where you are safer. No matter for how long that may be. Understand?"

After a moment, Harry nodded. "You'll do it. I know you can, you will. And in the meantime?"

"Well, Hogwarts is still in session, is it not?"

"I can still come down here and visit, right?"

"I would never deny you that."

Harry's smile returned. "Love you."

Severus smiled and leaned down, placing a kiss on Harry's temple. He was very surprised when Harry pulled back and used an arm to wipe at his forehead.

"Ugh! No more kisses from you for a week! I can't take anymore."

It took Severus a moment to remember last night and he tried not to turn red in the face. "If I made you uncomfortable in any way last night . . ."

"No, you were okay. It was kind of funny. When you were nicer, I mean."

"Funny?"

Harry just smiled cheekily up at Severus. The man shook his head at the boy. "I'm sure I do not need to tell you that what happened here stays in these quarters."

"I know."

"Good." Severus patted Harry's hand. "You need to get up and then we are having a talk about your hand."

Harry suddenly yanked his hand out of Severus's hold. "No, it's okay. It's healing."

"We're discussing what happened yesterday, end of story. Now go take a shower and get dressed. You have twenty minutes."

"You should take one first," Harry muttered, slowly sliding off the bed and shuffling toward the bathroom.

"Fifteen minutes," Severus decided.

Harry ran the rest of the way. After they were both showered and dressed, they enjoyed a light breakfast, Severus merely nibbling on some triangles of dry toast while Harry helped himself to jam and fruit yogurt. They remained at the table to discuss Umbridge, Severus demanding to know what happened before he healed the boy's hand.

"She said she was here to see the headmaster. I was leaving Charms and she was passing in the hall. She stopped me and kept going on and on about how I should prepare myself to be a ward of the Ministry and all, and I got mad. I told her to bugger off and that I would rather be the ward of trolls before I was a ward for the Ministry. She didn't like that."

"I can imagine," Severus said, though Harry's comment did amuse him more than anger him. "I will remind you to show your elders respect, even the ones who are least deserving of it."

"Yes, sir. She said I needed to learn that as well and pulled out a ruler. I tried to pull away, but she had me by the wrist. The ruler only hit me three times, but I think she said it was charmed. It really hurt."

"Where was Professor Flitwick? Or your friends?"

"She asked to speak with me alone and I said it was okay."

"You shouldn't have, Harry," Severus scolded lightly. He sighed, not really in the mood to explain the whys. "However, she was in the wrong to speak to you without my permission. That alone is enough to discredit her report."

"Really?"

"Really. Now let me see that hand. I will not have you walking around with it like that."

"But what if they want to see my hand as evidence."

"You and I have memories they can review if need be." Severus had already summoned a healing salve and was rubbing it gently on the boy's wound. Harry smiled as his hand was healed.

"I'm glad I came here," Harry said. "Even if it wasn't a good night, I'm glad you found out about my hand."

"Would you not have told me?"

"It's a force of habit, I think."

"I see. I cannot say I entirely agree with you, and I will be having a word with the headmaster. With that said, I do think your presence helped me end my drinking much sooner than it would have without you here. You reminded me why I should quit. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Harry smiled, rubbing his healed hand. The grandfather clock chimed ten and Harry's eyes widened. "I said I'd meet Hermione and Ron in the library at ten! I have to go!"

Harry jumped out of his seat, running to the living room to slip his trainers on.

"Well, goodbye to you, too," Severus said, a sly smile on his lips.

"Oh yeah," Harry said, running back over to Severus and giving the man a quick kiss on the cheek. "Bye, Dad."

And that was how the boy left the man. Speechless. The man reached up to cover his cheek before a small smile spread across his face.

Later that same morning, Severus knocked on the headmaster's door, waiting for entry this time. The office door clicked, and Severus stepped inside.

"Why, good morning, Severus," Albus greeted, sitting down at his desk and intertwining his fingers.

"It would be a better morning if someone had not sent an eleven-year-old boy down to a drunk professor's quarters after curfew." Severus crossed his arms in front of the headmaster's desk.

"It does sound awful when you put it that way, doesn't it?"

"What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking about how someone could use a wake-up call."

"I hurt him, Albus! It could have been so much worse."

Albus's eyes darkened considerably for the normally cheery headmaster. "I was hoping you were not so out of it yet; it had not been that long since you ran from my office. However, I'm sure Harry is well and of sound mind as we speak."

"Of course." Severus frowned. "If you ever find me in such a state again, I would appreciate if you did not send the boy my way."

"I am hoping there will not be a next time."

"I do as well," Severus admitted, lowering his head, his hands dropping to his sides. "I am also filing a complaint against Umbridge. She injured Harry yesterday and spoke to him against my wishes. She is off this case immediately."

"You have evidence?"

"Harry's memories of the event should suffice. I healed his hand, but I have the memory of that as well."

"Very good," Albus nodded, shuffling through parchment on his desk. "This is even better than I hoped. You see, while you were . . . indisposed, I reached out to an old friend of mine who works in Family Services. She is appalled at how Harry's situation has so far been handled and will personally see to it that justice is served."

"Is she on our side or the Ministry's?"

"She is on Harry's side." Albus found the parchment he was looking for and held it out to Severus. "But you will show her the best of you, Severus, and she will be on your side as well."

Severus looked down at the long letter written in response to Albus's. He couldn't help but ask, "After what happened last night?"

"Last night never happened in the eyes of the Ministry. We cannot allow them to gain an upper hand. If you do not wish to create new reason for a custody battle, do not let them find out about your incident. It never happened."

Severus nodded in understanding. Last night never happened.

Oh, but it had. It very much had.

Chapter Text

A few days later, Severus and Albus met with the Minister in the man's office for an arranged meeting—courtesy of Albus and his status. This way, Fudge would be focused only on the matter at hand and not the thousands of other issues begging for the man's attention. However, Fudge did not seem impressed.

"If this is about the Potter boy again, could this have not waited until our next consultation with Umbridge?" Fudge said as he entered the room, taking a seat at the head of the table.

"Umbridge violated our agreement to never speak to Harry without my permission," Severus was quick to snap. "And to add injury to insult, she struck Harry and left marks."

"As if that is what truly concerns you, Snape," Fudge said, glaring at the man. He sighed as he glanced down at the parchment Albus handed to him. "So, you're filing a complaint and would like Umbridge removed off this case? And who should I allow to take over? This isn't just any boy we're dealing with . . ."

"But a boy, all the same," another voice said from the entryway.

A middle-aged woman walked through the doorway, dropping her stacks of paperwork on the table before sliding into her seat as if she owned the room. She tucked a strand of wavy blonde hair behind an ear as she accepted a copy of the parchment Albus had handed to Fudge. She reviewed the words, nodding, before looking up at Fudge's confused face.

"Ah, yes, sorry," the woman said, holding out a hand to shake the Minister's. "Carys Cardiff, director of Solaris Family Services in Wales."

"I see," Fudge said, pulling his hand away from Carys'. He glared at Albus and Severus. "And who brought you here?"

"Harry Potter," Carys said, happily taking Fudge's copy of the parchment and signing where she was indicated to. "You see, a child only becomes a ward of the Ministry when family services fail to find a good placement. And investigations on foster parents or guardians can only be processed following concerns, allegations, or a complaint from a credible eye-witness account, not based on a guardians' history or hearsay. And any adoption, traditional, legal, or magical, is to be registered with family services. Of course, this is only the law, which you gentlemen are all aware of, correct?"

"Of course, I know the law!" Fudge said, taking the parchment back as well as a second parchment that Carys handed him. He slowly and carefully read the words of legal jargon. "What is this nonsense?"

"This is our new agreement," Carys said, pulling out a fresh parchment and scribbling down on it. "Professor Dumbledore and I shared a few words on the situation and I find that this case has been awfully handled. I will be overseeing it from this point forward for the safety and welfare of the child. Seeing how you've allowed injury to befallen upon the boy, I believe it is in your best interest to sign this new agreement, as well as the complaint against your undersecretary. I will personally be making sure that justice is served for that woman's crimes."

"Now listen here, ma'am," Fudge growled. "What gives you the right to come into this room and tell me how things are going to be?"

"As of now, Harry Potter is a child under Solaris's care, and I will decide myself if Severus Snape is a qualifiable guardian for him."

"The Boy-Who-Lived is a special matter that needs secrecy and . . ."

"The boy is still a child and regardless of his prestigious accomplishments, no politics are needed in the placement of a child. This will be handled in secrecy, under me and me alone in my business, and it will be handled with a little more tender, love, and care that your ministry officials are not capable of giving. I've handled several cases with orphans, adoptions, and foundlings—I know what I am doing. Harry Potter will be treated no differently."

"You think I'm just going to let you walk out of here with this case?"

"I do, actually," Carys said, nodding her head. She reached over and tapped the parchments in front of Fudge demandingly for his signatures. "Because if you don't, I will release every detail about this case to the public and I'm sure that would not look well on our Minister of Magic, don't you think?"

Fudge glared at the parchments in front of him, then glanced at Severus and Albus. Albus was siting back in his seat with twinkling eyes, while Severus had a smug look on his face; he was impressed by Albus's friend.

Fudge sat back in his own seat, lifting the parchments and reading them thoroughly in silence, shuffling the pages now and then. Severus looked across the table at Carys, who was busy taking notes on who knew what. Severus resisted a sigh as he waited for Fudge to finish reading. It couldn't have been more than four pages at most. What on earth was taking so long?

"Very well," Fudge finally spoke, picking up a quill and signing his name. "I will see to Madame Umbridge's trial and make my displeasure known. As far as Harry Potter, I trust you will handle this case with the upmost confidentiality, and I would like to be notified of your final decision."

"I'm sure I can owl you the information," Carys said, accepting her parchment while Albus accepted his. "That will be all, Minister."

Fudge opened his mouth but thought better of what he was going to say and shut it. He stood with an air of superiority, adjusting his bowler hat and walking out of the room with his chin held high. Carys stood with her paperwork, piling it all into a case. Albus and Severus stood as well, rounding the table.

"Thank you very much, Carys," Albus said, shaking her hand. "You have done so well since you graduated Hogwarts. It is good to see such success in my students."

"Thank you, Professor," Carys said. "It is good to see you as well. I'm glad to help."

"Yes, thank you," Severus said, holding out his hand to Carys.

"Hmm," Carys said, crossing her arms and giving the man a critical look. "I don't know about you, sir. You've yet to grace my good books."

"What have I done? We haven't even met."

"Besides performing an illegal blood adoption?"

"Are you forgetting who aided in that? And it wasn't illegal when we did it."

"It's still an arbitrary practice and you did not register it with any family service in the UK upon completion. I will be expecting you and the child Saturday—that is three days from now—and I will interview you and the boy personally in my office at two pm sharp. Is that clear?"

"Yes, ma'am." Severus was surprised he managed to keep the growl out of his voice.

"Good. Until then. Good day, Professors."

With that, Carys left the room with as much an air of superiority as Fudge had had.

"That's who's going to help me keep Harry?" Severus snapped at Albus.

"Easy, my boy," Albus said, patting Severus on the shoulder. "Remember what I said: Carys wants what is best for Harry. And she will see that you are good for the boy. You will pass this interview, as will Harry, and she will put you at the top of her good books."

"Sure, she will."

"Just show her the best of you, Severus. You'll impress her."

"We'll see about that."

Severus had been hoping to sleep on how he would impress the family services director. He had just been dozing off when Minerva floo called him.

"What in Merlin's name could you possible want at midnight!" Severus snapped as he walked out into his living room, glaring at the fireplace. "What is so important that it couldn't wait until the morning?"

"Stargazing, apparently!" Minerva snapped back. "I just caught three Gryffindors and one of your Slytherins out of bed roaming around the astronomy tower at this time of night to stargaze! And Mr. Malfoy was out trying to catch the others, but he went on about how there was a dragon and all. A dragon! The stories these kids come up with. They claim its what bit Ronald Weasley, after all."

"And where would they have found a dragon?" Severus couldn't help but roll his eyes at this preposterous idea.

"There wasn't. I'm sure the others simply told Mr. Malfoy such nonsense to get him in trouble and were hoping to watch the show. I've taken fifty points each from all of them."

"Fifty?" Severus said, raising an eyebrow. Minerva was definitely furious with those children. He was impressed. "Let me guess: Potter was one of the wide-eyed stargazers?"

"Yes, he was one of them. What does that matter? What am I going to do with these children?"

Severus stroked his chin, a small smirk on his face. He knew what he would do with at least Harry, but he figured he'd leave this escapade to Minerva. Fifty points each? She was already on a roll. And setting her house way behind his as far as house points. He would be claiming that House Cup at the end of the school year for sure. He couldn't wait to rub it in the older woman's face.

"What do you suppose would be a fitting punishment for those troublemakers?" he asked the woman.

"Oh—I don't know," Minerva huffed, sighing. "Hagrid has been asking for some assistance searching for some inured unicorns in the forest. Perhaps I'll ship them off to him for the night."

"You want to send first years off into the forbidden forest at night?" Severus asked.

"They'll be with Hagrid."

"That's very reassuring." Severus said. "Might I remind you that one of those students is under my house and care? Whatever shall I tell his parents about this punishment?"

"I don't care what you tell them—the boy broke several school rules tonight and he will perform whatever punishment is assigned to him. If he's so willing to break the school rules, then this should remind him why there are rules to begin with. The forest will scare them enough that they'll never want to venture back in there."

"I think you have the wrong impression of those troublemakers."

"Well, what else am I supposed to do? How can I impress upon them the seriousness of their actions? As it is, letters will be sent to their parents and guardians. Unless you'd rather have me string them by their toes and hang them from the ceiling in the dungeons? That would be your preferred punishment, wouldn't it? Save for Mr. Malfoy, who'll you'll what, take ten points from?"

"I'd hang them all after they've scrubbed my lab clean with their toothbrushes," Severus said. Then he sighed and shook his head. His mind was far from dealing with Draco's parents. He was thinking about the danger Harry might be in should the boy enter that forest with only Hagrid as a guard. But there was no use arguing over punishments with his co-worker. He would at least send his patronus out to keep an eye on Harry and the others. It would alert him to any danger. He could live with that. And once he got his hands on that child, he would be demanding the truth about tonight.

"I guess your trip to the forest will have to do. But if they ever dare enter that forest after this night, I get to decide their next punishment. And it will be hanging from the ceiling."

"Well, then it's settled. I am having Mr. Malfoy escorted to the Slytherin Common Room by Filch. He should be there if not in bed already. Goodnight to you, Severus."

The next day, Severus stalked down the halls hoping to cross paths with Harry. As he had not had class with the boy or a run in recently, there was no reason to call him down to his office. He could only hope he chanced upon the brat in between classes.

And luck was with him that day.

He spotted Harry and Miss Granger walking toward the Charms classroom.

"Mr. Potter," Severus said, stopping the two. He motioned to Hermione to keep going. "A word with you."

Harry nodded at Hermione, who slowly walked away. Once it was Severus and Harry alone in the hall, Severus narrowed his eyes at Harry.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor?" Severus asked a lifted brow.

Harry remained silent, suddenly finding his shoes very interesting. Severus allowed the silence for a few seconds before clearing his throat. Harry glanced up at the man through his fringe.

"And what was so fascinating last night that you could not stay in bed?"

"We had something important to do," Harry said, "for Hagrid."

"Hagrid? Hagrid is an adult and can take care of himself. What on earth did the man need you to do?"

"He had a dragon and that's the truth," Harry said. "Professor McGonagall didn't believe us, but it is true. Someone gave it to him in order to get information to get past Fluffy!"

Severus felt his heart stop and his eyes widened. He made several realizations at once. One, Harry had been telling the truth about there being a dragon in the castle. Two, Draco must have seen it, but had not even had the decency to tell an adult until it was too late. Three, Hagrid told someone how to get past the first obstacle. And four, the boy had not left this situation alone as he had asked. Severus crossed his arms and glared at Harry.

"What have I told you about that dog and concerning yourself with it?"

"Not to. But it's not like I was trying! And Professor McGonagall already gave us detention for this anyway and she took fifty points from all of us."

"She didn't punish you for disobeying me," Severus said.

"That's not fair! I didn't know this would have anything to do with the dog when the dragon hatched."

"You should have come to me as soon as you discovered that Hagrid had a dragon. You should have allowed other adults to deal with Hagrid, not go lollygagging in the castle at midnight. What were you thinking—dealing with a dragon? I hear it was the dragon that injured Mr. Weasley, what if that had been you?"

"Ron's doing better," Harry said.

"Oh, so that makes it okay, then? My apologies. I thought dragon harboring was illegal, not legal unless it kills you."

"I was just trying to help."

"You endangered your life and broke several school rules. How is that helping anyone?"

Harry's face was turning red and the boy glared up at Severus. "Hagrid could have gotten in trouble if we told any adults—"

"So, you knew what you were doing wasn't allowed? If I were you, I wouldn't say another word. As it is, I am being very lenient allowing Professor McGonagall to handle this bout of misbehavior. I do not want to hear of anymore, especially when we are meeting with family services this Saturday. I would hate to have to punish you and make sitting through your meeting very uncomfortable."

"I bet you would," Harry muttered.

"Are you giving me cheek, Potter?"

"No, sorry sir."

"No, you're not giving me cheek and yet you're apologizing."

"I said sorry. I didn't know what else to do with the dragon. I never had anyone to go to before and even when I did, everyone usually ignored me anyway."

"Hmm," Severus hummed, his heart softening just a bit. "I'll let this slide, seeing how your Head has taken a considerable amount of house points and assigned you detention. I would like you to learn to come to me in the future should you encounter situations like this. I could have helped you, or at the least Hagrid. Don't you trust me?"

"Yeah, but . . ." Harry shrugged his shoulders. "It's hard to go to you sometimes. You're not exactly easy to . . . umm—"

"Talk to?" Severus supplied.

Harry nodded. "I don't like disappointing you and I don't like it when you're angry with me. And you're pretty easy to anger."

"I see. I will work on that." Severus put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I do not mean to discourage you from finding me when you need me most. I want you to be able to trust that I will always have your best interest in mind. But you need to work with me and come to me should you have a problem. Understand."

"Yes, sir. Thank you for understanding."

"Of course. Now, get to class. You do not want to be late."

"I'd only be late because of you."

"You have five seconds to get out of my sight before I take more points from Gryffindor. Five. Four. Three . . ."

Harry had disappeared around the corner by the count of four.

Exactly three days after the meeting with Fudge and Carys, at one-thirty in the afternoon, Severus and Harry flooed to Solaris Family Services. It was a silent office building, no other workers appeared to be around. Carys had been quick to pull Harry into her office. Severus sat in the waiting room, constantly checking the muggle watch he wore that day. An hour passed before the woman finally opened her door and motioned Severus inside.

"Harry is admiring the fish tank in the children's playroom while we have our meeting."

Severus nodded and took a seat in front of the woman's desk, waiting as she seated herself and began firing questions.

"Full name."

"Severus Tobias Snape."

"Home address?"

"One-twenty-four Spinner's End, Cokeworth, England."

"Place of work?"

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"Profession?"

"Potions Master."

And so they continued, question after question, Severus doing his best to remain honest, even when the woman brought up his Death Eater history. She had seemed understanding, and Severus was not about to question her on it. Then came the tough questions.

"How often do you drink alcohol?"

Severus paled at the question. It had gotten him in trouble before, after all.

"I am . . . recently quitting the drink."

"Are you? How often did you drink in the . . . past? A glass once a week? A glass every night? A glass twice a day?"

"I never had a set routine," Severus snapped, feeling a spark of anger flicker in his chest at her pushing. Did she need to know the exact amount? Wasn't admitting to drinking enough?

"I see. Have you ever been incapacitated around Harry Potter?"

"I . . ."

"Let me help you answer that," Carys said, pulling out a small box from her desk and tapping it with her wand. A small holographic-like image of Harry in the same seat Severus sat in now appeared. The boy was frowning as he listened to Carys' question.

"Has he ever been incapacitated in front of you?"

"You mean like drunk?" Harry asked. Carys must have nodded since Harry answered with a shake of his head and said "No."

"You realize that if I discover you are lying, there will be severe penalties for it, such as denying Professor Snape's request to adopt you."

"Please don't do that. It was one night and nothing bad happened. He said he would get better and give it up for good. He was really upset but he's usually very good about it. That's not a lie, I promise."

The hologram flickered before disappearing. Crays gave Severus a pointed look. The man sighed and nodded.

"It was one night. Very recently, actually. I was stressed about the situation with the Ministry and I let Umbridge's words get to me. I know that does not excuse my actions, but I made a promise with Harry that I would try to recover and give up the drink permanently. I just need more time and . . ."

For once, Severus wasn't sure what to say. He wasn't sure how he could convince this woman that he would never touch a drop of alcohol again after already having a recent incident.

"How recent was this incident?" Carys asked, scribbling away on her parchment.

"A week ago," Severus answered.

Carys' head snapped up and her eyes met Severus's. She sighed and shook her head, scribbling on her parchment. She tapped the quill on the page she was writing on before setting the quill down and running a hand down her face. She tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear before picking up her quill and staring down at the parchment.

Severus waited patiently, his heart hammering in his throat. He was about to lose the case, he just knew it. The woman had to do the right thing, and she was trying hard to convince herself to do what was right. That was the problem, he knew it had to be so.

"My sister," Carys finally said, lowering her quill, "struggled with alcohol abuse. The day I took her children away from her, she died in an accident after getting behind the wheel drunk. I still wonder if she would have done the same if I had not taken her children. She really had been trying before. But what if she had relapsed anyway, and with her children in the car?"

Severus said nothing, wondering how Carys' experience would affect her decision.

"I really want to believe that you are what's best for the boy. I think you two have a beautiful connection. And I want to approve this adoption for you . . ."

Carys sighed and was silent for a long moment before nodding and writing something down.

"Against my better judgment, I will approve this adoption for you. But you must remain sober. You are to attend at least twelve AA group sessions and I will be checking in on you once every month for three months and then once every six months for two years. In that time, if you slip, I have every right to revoke this adoption and remove the child."

"Yes, of course, thank you!" Severus said, sitting up straighter in his chair. His heart refused to slow down at the news. A genuine smile spread across his face. Carys handed him a slip with his instructions, local AA groups in his home area and near Hogwarts. "Thank you so much."

"Of course, I will make unannounced visits, so those dates are not listed. I would like you to have attended at least two sessions before our next meet, so you better get on those."

"I will."

"I am being very generous and very lenient with you, sir. Do not disappoint me."

"I will not. Thank you so much, ma'am."

"You shouldn't thank me," Carys smiled, tapping the small box with her wand once more.

This time, the hologram showed a smiling Harry and Severus couldn't help but blush at the boy's words.

"But's he's not all that bad, really. He can be very loving when he wants to be. Like lots of hugs and kisses—it's really overbearing sometimes. It's okay though. I've never had someone care so much about me before."

Later that afternoon, back in Severus's quarters at Hogwarts, Severus couldn't help but smile along with Harry at the adoption certificate Harry held up to read. It had Harry's new name: Harry James Potter-Snape, although he could not use his name publicly.

"I was informed by Professor Dumbledore that Umbridge has been fined for child cruelty and is enjoying her three months stay in Azkaban as we speak."

"Really?" Harry asked. "That seems like a lot for a few smacks with a ruler."

"You think so? I hardly believe its enough time."

"Well, I'm glad she got what was coming for her," Harry said. "And I'm even more glad that I'm officially and legally adopted. This is the best day ever!"

"That reminds me," Severus said, leaning down to whisper in Harry's ear, "I can be overbearing, hmm?"

Harry's eyes widened. "She told you!?"

"Let me show you how loving I can be," Severus growled, reaching for the boy, but Harry had already taken off for his bedroom. Severus smirked. He'd get the back for that later, he supposed.

"Change into Muggle clothes," Severus called to the boy. "We are going out to celebrate your adoption officially this time."

"Right this way, gentlemen," the waitress said as she led Severus and Harry to a booth in the back of the restaurant.

"Thank you," Severus said as he took his seat, Harry excitedly sliding into his side of the booth.

"Would you like a kids' menu?" the waitress asked.

Harry's nose scrunched up and he shook his head. "No, thank you. The adult menu is fine."

"Of course," the waitress smiled, handing them both a menu and quickly explaining the specials before giving them a minute to decide on drinks and food. Severus smirked at Harry as he opened the menu.

"It's not too late to change your mind about that kids' menu," Severus said. "I think kids' eat free tonight."

"Ha-ha. I'm not a kid anymore. I'm practically an adult now."

"Yes, and we adults call the menu the 'adult menu.'"

Harry's cheeks reddened but he muttered under his breath and hid behind the menu, browsing through his options. Severus snorted but glanced at the menu himself. He already knew what he wanted—the same he usually got at this restaurant. The spaghetti and meatball special. It was a simple classic but his favorite, nonetheless.

He also glanced at the drink options, trying hard to ignore the beer section. He eyed the muggle fizz drinks with distaste before sighing and resorting to a simple tea. He glanced at Harry, who seemed to be struggling with the vast options of entrees.

"What do you think, Harry?" Severus asked. "Anything in particular you would like?"

"I don't know. I haven't had a lot of this stuff. They don't serve any of this at Hogwarts."

"Yes, they do," Severus countered, setting down his menu. "I believe you tend to gravitate to the same food options on the table each night, however."

"Well, there's always so much, I never know what I want to eat. It's easier to get the same thing."

"Doesn't it ever get boring?"

"Not the way I eat them."

Severus snorted, a smile playing on his lips when the waitress came back.

"May I get your drinks and have you both decided on what you would like from the menu?" she asked.

"I'll have a tea and the spaghetti and meatball special. Harry?"

Severus and the waitress looked at Harry.

Harry lifted the menu up more and stared intently his eyes flickering everywhere.

"I'll have the uh . . . I'll take a coke and err—the spaghetti and meatball special."

Severus lifted an eyebrow at the boy, a smirk on his face while the waitress nodded and scribbled down their orders and collecting their menus, taking off quickly. Severus glanced over at the one sheet drink menu longingly as the waitress left. It had been a week since he had last had a drink (or gotten drunk, as was the case), and he was already starting to feel the withdrawal symptoms. It wouldn't hurt to wean himself off the alcohol, would it? Just one small glass while they were out to dinner never incapacitated anyone, right?

"Hey, Dad."

Severus snapped his head back to Harry. The boy had found a pen and was drawing on his tabletop paper. He had started a game of tic-tac-toe. The boy smiled at him as he shoved the paper at Severus, saying, "Your turn."

Severus smiled, and drew a circle under the x. The two played several games of tic-tac-toe, tying in many games, Severus managing to win three games, and Harry managing to catch the man off-guard in one. It brought many laughs, and some looks of surprise. By the time the two called a truce, their dinners arrived, and Harry's eyes grew wide at the amount of spaghetti and meatballs set in front of him.

"Now, you do not have to eat it all," Severus said, digging into his own dish, cutting up a meatball. "Just eat what you can. We can take the rest home for later."

"I like that idea," Harry said, still trying to figure out how to get the long strands of noodle on the fork.

Severus demonstrated one tactic by twirling his fork in the noodles and taking his first bite. Harry copied, taking his own first bite of his first spaghetti dinner. The boy had to keep biting in order t get all the noodled off the fork and in his mouth. Severus couldn't keep the smile off his face as he watched Harry eat the noodles. He had the odd notion that perhaps he should take a picture to save the moment, but he had no device that would do so, and he waved the feeling off as being a sentimental new parent.

Harry learned that he could slurp the noodles pretty quickly, and on one slurp, the end of the noodle struck his nose, surprising the boy. Harry laughed while Severus shook his head and used a napkin to wipe the boy's face, earning an indignant look.

"You are quite messy with this," Severus said, pointedly eyeing the sauce stains on the boy's shirt. "Perhaps I should have considered a bib."

"I didn't know it would be this bad," Harry said, taking a small bite of a cut up meatball. He looked at Severus and frowned. "How come you didn't get any on you?"

"Because I know how to eat food without getting it all over me."

"Well, I do, too. Most of the time."

"I'm sure with practice you'll get much better at eating this without getting it all over your face."

"It is really good," Harry said, slurping more spaghetti before picking up his napkin and removing the sauce he could feel. "I think I'm getting full, though."

"Then set it aside. I think we should check our dessert options."

"This is a lot of leftovers."

"That's all right. Let's see, they have tiramisu, panna cotta, a cannoli cheesecake—now doesn't that sound delectable? What do you think?"

"I guess the last thing you said." Harry was still absently using the napkin to unsuccessfully remove the stains on his shirt.

"You know you don't have to get everything I do, correct?"

"Sorry, I can pick something else . . ."

"It's not that, Harry. I just want to make sure that you'll pick something you like."

"I like cannoli. I think I'll like the cheesecake. There's just so many options on the menu and all, it's hard to pick one thing."

"So, you fall back on me?" Severus raised an amused eyebrow.

"Sorry."

"I'm not mad. You've no reason to apologize. I think in the future, we'll eat out more often, and you'll become accustomed to deciding off the menu yourself. I think you and I can share the cannoli cheesecake."

When the cheesecake arrived, Harry licked his lips and picked up one of the spoons, stealing as much of the whipped cream off the top as he could. Severus used his own spoon to smack Harry's away, but the boy shoved the spoonful of whipped cream in his mouth with a cheeky smile.

"Insolent brat," Severus grumbled, earning a chuckle from the boy.

Chapter Text

"Welcome to The Next Step Anonymous Alcoholics," the chairperson said from his seat in the center of the circle of chairs surrounding him. "This is a closed AA meeting. Closed meetings are limited to those who have a desire to stop drinking. Let us bow our heads in prayer."

Respectfully, Severus lowered his head, but he did not close his eyes. A week had passed since he had officially adopted Harry, and he knew he had to get going on those meetings in case Carys decided to make an unannounced visit some time soon. He had found a place in a small, picturesque muggle town close to Northumberland National Park. Ostbridge they called it, and it was like walking through a Hallmark movie set—the perfect little town with flowers outside every shop, friendly people waving hellos and good evenings. It was such a different atmosphere from his home back in Cokeworth.

To get to Ostbridge, Severus had to leave the Apparition wards of Hogwarts, then apparate to where he knew a bus station would be in the city closest to the town. He had never been to Ostbridge, so he was unsure of a secluded place to apparate to there. He rode the bus the rest of the way, and took his time walking around a bit to get to know the area before arriving at a chapel where the meeting was to take place at 7:30pm. It was the closest place with a meeting held that night he could travel to.

The chapel was a small area, with foldable chairs arranged in a circle with several other chairs folded and lined up along the side walls. At the end of the building was the altar, and large windows allowed the last of the day's light to shine through. It was simple yet elegant and seated fifteen people very well.

"God grant me the serenity," the chairperson was speaking again, "to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference. Living one day at a time; enjoying one moment at a time; accepting hardships as the pathway to peace; taking, as He did, this sinful world as it is, not as I would have it, trusting that He will make all things right if I surrender to His Will; that I may be reasonably happy in this life and supremely happy with Him forever in the next. Amen."

There were several other "Amens," but Severus kept quiet as he lifted his head.

Everyone clapped in the room, Severus reluctantly joining in, out of respect, of course. That was an achievement. Freddy held his hands up, half-heartedly attempting to hush everyone. He was a taller, older man, graying at the top, his smile revealing yellowing teeth.

"Thank you, thank you," Freddy said. "Are there any new faces here who'd like to introduce themselves? Any at all?"

Freddy made a show of glancing around the room, and some of the members looked directly at Severus, who narrowed his eyes at Freddy. The man simply smiled back, his brown eyes twinkling like someone else's Severus knew.

"Very well. This meeting I'd like to talk about everyone's worst enemy—cravings."

There were nods of agreements and some chuckles.

"They're completely normal, aren't they? It's our body's way of saying, "hey, doesn't this sound good? I want it and I want it now." When my stomach wants a good ol' fashioned roast dinner, my honey at home whips it up before I even knew what I was hungry for. And when honey's having a bad day and she's needing chocolate—well, I go get her some chocolate. We respond to cravings naturally; it's ingrained in us to feed our body what it wants. But what if you're body wants a drink but your brain says no? Anyone here got any experience with fighting cravings?"

A hand raised and Freddy pointed at the woman. She stood and smiled at the room.

"Hi, my name's Jo Lee, I'm an alcoholic and I've been sober for two years," the woman began, turning slightly from side to side as she spoke so she could look at everyone, a big smile on her face.

"Actually, when I first started quitting drinking, I had horrible cravings every day. And it took a while for me to stop drinking because of it. I figured I could have just a little glass to stop the hunger, but a little led to more and I relapsed again and again. On May third, nineteen-eighty-nine, my sister was visiting, and I was having those cravings. So, she dragged me out with her to one of her paint classes, said I needed something to distract myself. Painting pulled me out of my thoughts and body, and I could just enter this new world I was creating on a blank sheet, filled with vibrant colors and shapes and stories. I've been painting every week since, and I have not had any cravings."

"Thank you, Jo Lee," Freddy nodded, clapping his hands, as did everyone else. Jo Lee sat back down. Freddy spoke again as he walked around, passing out pamphlets. "That is inspiring. Cravings are a nuisance, but the good news is they will decrease in strength and frequency with time. We just have to survive through it. How?" Freddy held up a pamphlet. "By remembering the acronym DEADS."

Severus accepted a pamphlet and looked down at it, reading what each letter stood for before opening it to see information on coping strategies through cravings and urges when trying to quit.

"What does this mean? Delay, escape, accept, dispute, and substitute. Delay your cravings by not thinking about them and not giving into them. Escape your cravings. Get away from whatever may have triggered it or just get away—period. Go for a walk until they leave. Accept that your cravings will pass and that they will not kill you if you don't give in. Dispute with your cravings that they are unreasonable and that you are not actually craving what you think you are. And substitute, like Jo Lee and her paintings, find something better."

The meeting went on, discussing several of the coping mechanisms in the pamphlet. A few more members shared their stories of how they managed to cope or failed to cope and discussed ways in which they could improve. Severus remained silent and simply listened to everyone else. Once Freddy closed the meeting and everyone was chatting with each other, Severus stuffed the pamphlet into a pocket, threw on his cloak, and left quickly.

As he walked down the path, he heard footsteps running after him.

"Sir, wait!"

Severus looked back to see Freddy catching up to him.

"You forgot this," Freddy said, handing over a coin. "Welcome to The Next Step. I hope we see you again."

"What is this?" Severus asked, taking the coin. It was a silver coin with a triangle in the blue colored center. In the middle of the triangle was "24 HOURS" and around the triangle said, "To Thy Own Self Be True." Severus looked up at Freddy.

"It's your first coin," Freddy explained. "To help celebrate your sobriety. And to remind you to take this one day at a time. You'll earn more, I know you will. This is the beginning of your next step."

Severus's fist closed around the coin and he pocketed it as well. He nodded his head, adjusted his cloak, and with a quick, "Thank you," he turned away.

"You're a new face around here," Freddy said, following and matching Severus's strides easily.

Great, he's following me, Severus thought, biting his tongue.

"What brings you here to Ostbridge?"

Severus sighed. It was a long walk to where he could peacefully apparate out of the town, so he decided to indulge the man until Freddy gave up on stalking him.

"My son," he answered.

Freddy's smile brightened and he nodded.

"A very good reason," the man said. He looked around as if he had never seen the place before. "It's a small town, but big enough to run into someone new every day. Especially with tourists passing through. Otherwise, it's usually quiet and serene. A good place to escape the big, crazy world."

"It's a lovely town," Severus commented.

"I've lived here my whole life. You'd think a man would want a change after a while, but I studied in London when I was a young lad, and here I am now. Came right back home."

"That seems to be how it always works out, doesn't it?" Severus said, remembering how he had never wanted to go back to his parents' home once he was of age but there he was, still living there, head of the house.

"Thing is, I love this place. Not many folks can say the same. Many come here, they stay a while, and then they leave, off to find a place that feels like home to them. Some don't know what that means."

Severus sighed, growing slightly annoyed with Freddy. Couldn't the man take a hint and leave him be? The two exited the town and walked down a pathway, passing houses now, spaced a good distance apart from each other.

"So where you headed, sir?" Freddy asked. "I don't believe the buses are going to run through this town again tonight. I could give you a lift in my car."

"That won't be necessary," Severus said. "I will be meeting someone halfway; they will give me a lift."

"It's for sale," Severus stated, though that much was obvious.

"Yeah," Freddy agreed. "Want to take a look inside?"

"I believe open house hours are over," Severus said.

"Nonsense," Freddy said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a key. He walked down the path.

"You're the seller?" Severus asked, shaking his head in disbelief. Of course, I would travel to a small town and get roped in to house hunting, he thought. He followed the man however, curious to at least see the place. It was small, smaller than his home in Spinner's end, but it was a beautiful house with enough land to have three greenhouses in the back.

"I'm just helping out my daughter. She's off exploring the world. Only visits on the holidays, anymore. She agreed to sell it."

"How old is your daughter?" Severus asked as he waited for the man to unlock the door.

"She just turned twenty-seven."

Before Severus could comment on that, Freddy opened the door and flicked a switch, and Severus took in a breath as he stepped inside a foyer that opened to a spacious and well-furnished living area. A large empty bookcase leaned against the wall and a television sat on a TV stand to the side of the fireplace. He could see the remodeled kitchen and dining area past the living room from where he stood.

"Please, let me take your cloak," Freddy said, and Severus wordlessly allowed the material to slip from his shoulder's. Freddy hung the cloak on a hanger in the foyer, then led the way into the living area. "Obviously, this is your lounge, furniture is included, rarely used, it was. There's a nice fireplace over there for you. Over here is the kitchen, everything is up to date. The island in the center has a sink and several more storage cabinets, quite convenient, I'd say. The dining table is big enough for six, but you can always trade that out if you think it's too big."

"This is beautiful," Severus said, looking around and sliding his hand along the granite countertop. This house was modern compared to his untouched home back in Cokeworth, which still held many of the styles from the sixties. He liked the new look. It was growing on him fast.

"If you follow me through the hall here," Freddy said, leading Severus toward the one hallway in the house. He paused halfway through and opened a door. "This is your laundry room."

"Handy," Severus commented glancing inside. He could use something like that.

"Here's the bathroom."

Severus stepped inside the bathroom. It was large and had a shower and a separate tub big enough for five people. For a moment, Severus could see himself relaxing in a nice warm bath—oh, he hadn't had one since he was probably twelve or thirteen. Severus shook the thought away and walked out as Freddy was moving to the last two rooms.

"This is one of the bedrooms," Freddy said, motioning to the opened room.

Severus stepped inside and smiled softly as he envisioned Harry in the room. There was a full-size bed, which was bigger than Harry's current bed. There was a dresser and a small closet in the room. He could place a desk in the room for the boy. He would have to find the boy one, he figured. There was a window seat and Severus could see part of the town through it. Harry would love that. Severus walked back out and Freddy showed him the last room.

"This is the master bedroom," Freddy opened the door to reveal a large bedroom with a queen size bed.

There was little else in the room, but Severus could see placing the desk from his study against the back wall where the window overlooked the backyard. He could also place a bookshelf in the bedroom for some of the books from his library, the rest would fit perfectly in the bookshelf in the living room. There was a dresser and a decent sized walk in closet.

"One little trick about this walk-in closet," Freddy said with a wink as he stepped inside. He pulled at a sliding door Severus just noticed and watched amazed as the closet expanded into another full-size room. Severus's mouth fell open as he walked inside.

"Unbelievable," he muttered.

"I know, right? When my daughter first bought this house, it was a three-bedroom house. She remodeled the bathroom to what it is now and turned what remained of the third room into this, took down a wall and rebuilt a wall and . . . ah, I won't bore you with the architecture. So, what do you think?"

"It's . . . smaller than what I'm used to. But it's a really nice house. Everything is modern and the rooms are perfect."

Severus walked through the house more. The backyard was huge, and he could see himself starting a garden, something he could not do at Spinner's End. He thought back to the town and what he had seen there. Several small shops, mom-and-pop restaurants, a small public library, the chapel, a playground along the pathway, and of course, several walking trails. He sighed. Would it be worth moving away? He only lived at Spinner's End on holidays. It's not like there was much worth going back home to. Besides, it would be a big—most likely expensive—change and he had just adopted Harry and he was trying to stay sober. Could he really add a new house on top of that?

"Think of it this way," Freddy said, as he stood next to Severus, looking out the lounge window as well. "This could be the next step you need to take."

Severus narrowed his eyes at the smiling man.

He finally made it back to Hogwarts after eleven that night, and he quietly made his way to his quarters. The rooms were dark. Last he knew, Harry had wanted to stay in his bedroom that night and work on homework. The boy had said he would wait up for Severus, but he told Harry that if he wasn't back by nine, the child was to retire for the night. Severus glanced in the boy's room, but the child was not there.

Severus sighed. Harry must have gone back to his dorm, which must have been after curfew. He would have a word with the child about that. Severus used his bathroom for his nightly routines before retreating to his own bedroom. Severus flicked his wand to light the few candles and nearly startled at the small form in his bed.

Harry was asleep on his stomach, hugging one of the man's pillows. Severus frowned, wondering if he should move the boy to his own bed or just let him sleep. The child looked so young and angelic; Severus decided he was fine where he was.

He moved quietly through his room to prepare for bed, hanging his cloak and putting the pamphlet and coin in his nightstand drawer. He changed quickly before carefully sliding into his bed, extinguishing the light. He smiled at his son, gently caressing the boy's cheek with a thumb. He leaned forward and planted a kiss in the child's temple.

Harry scrunched his face before his eyes blinked open. He jumped slightly seeing Severus.

"Easy," Severus said, "It's just me. What are you doing in here?"

"Hey Dad," Harry smiled sleepily. "Sorry, I know you said to go to bed at nine, but I was trying to finish all my homework. Then at nine-thirty, all the lights went out."

"They are spelled to do that at a certain time when I am not here. That must have confused you."

"I was. I thought there was a blackout but then I remembered it's candlelight, so it couldn't be. Then it was really dark and quiet. I guess I'm not used to being alone in your quarters in the dark. It was kind of . . . eerie."

"So, you come into my bed?"

"It was that or go back to my dorm, but then you would have come back and noticed I was gone."

"And wandering the castle after curfew," Severus said with a pointed look.

"That's why I didn't leave," Harry said. "And your bed kind of has your smell and reminds me . . . I mean, umm . . ."

Even in the dark, Severus knew the boy's face was burning red. Harry had not meant to say that out loud. Severus smirked at the child, secretly glad the child sought comfort from him even when he wasn't around. Severus decided not to comment on what Harry said to save the boy from embarrassment.

"I'll try to remember to extend the time on when the lights go out should I have to leave again."

"Thanks. How did the meeting go?"

"Torturously slow," Severus answered. "And to think I have to go eleven more times."

"It'll be worth it, though, right?"

"Know that I am doing this for you, Harry. It is most definitely worth it."

Harry smiled and moved closer to Severus, resting his head on the man's shoulder. Severus carded a hand through the boy's hair and kissed the boy's head once more.

"It is late," Severus said, "go to sleep."

Harry fell asleep quickly, Severus following a few minutes after, enjoying the warmth of having the boy close.

Two weeks passed slowly, with Severus growing more withdrawn by the day. Classes were harder to teach when his hands constantly shook, and he was very easily agitated by the students. Soon the whole school knew to give Severus Snape space unless they wanted fifty points taken for sneezing incorrectly. Severus stopped eating at the Great Hall entirely, as the noise from all the students and professors aggravated his throbbing headaches. Besides, he was never hungry anyway.

He was also falling behind on his grading and paperwork. The past few days, when he returned from teaching, he fell asleep at his desk while attempting to grade papers. Harry had stopped by one afternoon and had been surprised to see Severus passed out on piles of homework in the study.

"Dad?" Harry tapped the man on the shoulder.

Severus jumped awake, startling Harry as well. Severus rubbed his eyes, his head throbbing now. He looked at Harry.

"What are you doing in here?"

"Sorry, I was coming to ask you something, but you were asleep."

Severus sighed and reached into his robe for another headache reliever. He drank it down before asking, "What is it?"

"Since you haven't been at the Great Hall lately, I was wondering if we could have dinner here some night? Just me and you?"

"Fine, but not tonight," Severus answered, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples. "I have a lot of work I need to catch up on."

"Are you okay?" Harry asked.

"I am just fine. Don't you have homework you could be doing?"

"Not really."

"Then go write me three feet on the use of Horklump juce in the Herbicide Potion."

Harry's jaw dropped. "Are you serious?"

"Yes," Severus said before waving the boy out. "Go."

Harry huffed and stamped his way out of Severus's study.

However, when they met again for the requested dinner three days later, Harry handed over the assignment, and Severus had stared down at it confused.

"You told me to write an essay on that," Harry explained at the table when Severus said he did not assign any new homework and reminded Harry finals were coming up.

Severus huffed and lowered his head on his arms.

"Just what I need," he muttered, "more work for myself."

"Are you sure you're okay? Do you want me to get Madam Pomfrey?"

"Absolutely not."

Dinner that night had not been pleasant for either of them, and Severus had been very short with Harry through it all. By the time Harry had had enough of Severus's temper, the two were quickly butting heads over several things, including whether or not Harry needed dessert, if Harry was riding the Hogwarts Express at the end of the year or not, and somehow the conversation strayed to whether Severus should see a doctor or not. Severus had not taken kindly to Harry telling the man that he was going bonkers, and Harry had stormed out of Severus's quarters with a smarting behind.

It took every amount of strength Severus had to not drink. As much as he really wanted to, and he knew it would relieve all his symptoms if he just gave in, he couldn't do it. He would lose Harry. And he kept that at the front of his mind. It was the only distraction that kept him from going down to Hogsmeade and buying out their firewhiskey.

It wasn't until Severus collapsed in the middle of proctoring a final exam did the symptoms start to fade. Thanks to Madam Pomfrey.

Severus slowly came to, blinking and wincing as sunlight assaulted his eyes. He groaned as he sat up, rubbing his temples. He looked around.

He was lying in a bed in the hospital wing and Poppy was working around him.

"And he lives," she commented as she spelled a potion into the man's stomach. "I would think you of all people would know that drinking so many headache relievers would result in severe dehydration."

"It was the only thing that helped," Severus said, swinging his feet over the side of the bed. He was in a hospital gown and he scanned the area for his clothes.

"I am not done with you," Poppy said. "Your symptoms are serious and . . ."

"Alcohol withdrawal," Severus said, reaching for his clothes and using his wand to switch the hospital gown for his robe. He folded the gown and set it aside.

"I know," Poppy said. "Harry told me. Everything."

Severus's eyes snapped up and met Poppy's.

"I won't say a word," Poppy said. "Apparently, no one else knows but the headmaster."

"Yes," Severus said, "and the boy's friends. Look, I don't want to waste your time. I can handle this."

"What you need to do," Poppy said, summoning a parchment and handing it to the man, "is eat good, healthy meals whether you want to or not, drink plenty of water, and take the potions I give you. And no more headache relievers. They're bad for your liver."

"You mean whatever's left of my liver," Severus snapped as he read the parchment. It had a list of meals he could eat throughout the day that were easy on the stomach and nutritious. It also stated the potions Poppy was giving him, how much and how often to take, as well as a reminder to drink more water.

"I performed some diagnostics on you while you were out. Your liver, remarkably, is healthy. You should be glad you're a wizard. I'd say magic played a strong role in that."

"How long was I out for?

"All day. It's just past midnight now. I suggest you go to your quarters and rest."

"Sleep some more?"

"Falling unconscious is not restful sleeping. You, once again, know this."

Severus huffed as he slipped his boots on. H slipped the parchment into an inner robe pocket and brushed himself off as he stood. "Thank you for your assistance."

Before Poppy could even smile, a loud voice was shouting for her. Severus and Poppy watched as Albus and Minerva ran into the infirmary, an unconscious Harry Potter floating behind them. Severus felt his heart stop as he watched Harry gently levitate to one of the beds. Severus and Poppy both ran over to Harry. Poppy using her wand to perform several diagnostics.

"What happened?" Severus asked, looking up at Albus.

"I found him below the trap door," Albus said. "He saved the stone from Quirrell and Voldemort."

Severus winced at the sound of the Dark Lord's name but looked down at Harry. Poppy was already spelling potions into the boy.

"Severus," Poppy called to the man. "He's going to be okay. You should get some much-needed rest. Harry will most likely come to in the morning."

"How are you feeling, Severus?" Minerva asked. "You had the whole school in an uproar with your episode."

"I am fine," Severus said, his eyes never leaving Harry's face. The child was so pale and frail looking, his hands bloody and . . . burnt? What in Merlin's name had happened? He couldn't possibly leave now. His son needed him. He had to stay at his side. Poppy walked past him and said softly, "He's in good hands. I will let you know if there are any developments. Get some food, get some sleep, and come back here if you absolutely must."

Severus felt like a zombie as he left the hospital wing. For the first time in these last few weeks, felt weak and unstable. Hs stomach growled angrily, and he decided Poppy was right to suggest he eat something, least he faints again.

Severus made it to his quarters and studied Poppy's list before deciding on a simple chicken meal. The dinner appeared and he ate in silence, already missing Harry's chattiness. His mind felt clear, and he thought back to how he had treated the boy over the last few weeks. He felt bad for losing his temper so often with Harry. He would have to work on that. Now that his withdrawal symptoms were being relieved, he shouldn't be as miserable.

Severus felt a desire for a drink, but he pushed the feeling aside. Once he finished his meal, he tried to fall asleep, but he couldn't get his mind to shut off. Harry's pale face and bloody hands kept reappearing in his mind. He couldn't take it anymore. He needed a drink. He needed to calm his nerves. He needed something.

Severus stood up, but before he could get very far, he looked down at his nightstand.

The pamphlet and coin from the AA meeting were sitting out. He frowned. He was sure he had put those away. He opened the drawer and shoved the pamphlet and coin inside. A small parchment flew off the nightstand from the movement, and Severus snatched it. It was a note in Harry's handwriting.

I know it's been hard but I'm proud of you, Dad. Love, Harry

Severus's knees felt weak and he sat on the bed. He smiled at the note, his eyes watering. The cravings were suddenly gone. Nothing else in the world mattered more than Harry now. Severus felt the unease in his blood lighten up and his mind was more focused. He relaxed. He clutched the note to his chest, a tear managing to escape. He stubbornly wiped at his eyes and pulled himself together.

He set the note inside with the pamphlet and the coin.

"Substitute," Severus said, remembering the DEADS acronym. "I need a distraction."

Severus walked into his potions lab and quickly sketched an object on a parchment. He had no muggle equipment like he was used to, nor would they work in Hogwarts, so he would have to use a blend of magic and old-fashioned muggle techniques.

He summoned some trunks of wood from one of the trees he knew Hagrid had cut for firewood for the castle and the half-giant's own hut. Using the largest of the trunks as a base, he snapped his fingers and an ax appeared on his work bench. With it, he began chopping the wood swiftly and smoothly.

He used his wand to cut the pieces into certain shapes. He found a hammer to help him nail some pieces together, a saw to adjust the size and lengths of certain pieces. He used his wand for sanding. Various tools came into play, and it was all very relaxing and more importantly, very distracting.

Hours passed, and he had not gotten one ounce of sleep when he finally declared himself finished and stepped back. He nodded at his work: a well sized desk for Harry's room, with an upper shelf, a cubbyhole, a place for his quill and ink sets, and a working drawer with a brass handle he transfigured from one of his stirring rods. He would paint it later, maybe after Harry picked out a color.

He felt exhausted now.

He performed a time check. It nearly six in the morning. He decided he would check on Harry first. He made his way back up to the infirmary and closed the curtains around Harry's bed.

Harry was still out, his eyes closed, and his hands bandaged.

Severus sat on the edge of Harry's bed, brushing the boy's fringe aside and tracing the lightning scar with a finger. Severus stared down sadly at his son.

"I told you to leave it alone," Severus chided softly.

Harry had no response.

Severus sighed, then leaned down and kissed Harry's forehead.

He transfigured one of the empty beds into a chair and pulled it closer to Harry's bed. He leaned back in it and watched the boy sleep, slowly falling into slumber himself.

Chapter Text

Severus was trying to ignore the few streams of sunlight trying to shine down on him through a break in the curtains when a small moan made his eyes snap open. Severus sat up in the chair and leaned forward, feeling Harry's head as he did so.

The boy moaned as he tossed and turned under the blanket, kicking it off his legs to help cool off. He blinked his eyes open, squinting at the light before turning and looking at Severus, a small smile growing tugging at his lips.

"Morning," Harry greeted. He paused when he noticed his bandaged hands and memories must have slapped him in the face of what had occurred last night if his look of horror was anything to go by. Harry looked back up at Severus and started firing his questions. "What happened? Where's Ron and Hermione? What about the stone? Is it okay?"

Severus stood and pushed Harry back down on the bed when the boy moved to sit up.

"Do not move," Severus said. "I will have Madam Pomfrey come over and check you over. I expect you to obey her and take whatever she may give you."

"But what about—"

"We will have a very long . . . discussion later," Severus said, narrowing his eyes at Harry, who sank back in his pillows. Harry looked down at his hands with a frown.

"What happened to my hands?"

"From my understanding, a magical backlash from . . . whatever happened to Professor Quirrell. We will discuss that later."

Poppy came quickly when Severus told her Harry was awake, and she performed some diagnostics and handed the boy some potions, which Harry took obediently while shooting glances at Severus now and then. When Poppy stepped back, she smiled at Severus, looking back and forth between him and Harry as she spoke.

"He'll be just fine. I suggest some rest for you, Mr. Potter, for the rest of the day at least. I have a couple more potions you'll need to take to make sure we keep that concussion at bay and then you'll be good as new. Your hands will need a cream applied tonight and then they'll need to be rebandaged. Tomorrow, your hands should be completely healed."

"Thanks, Madam Pomfrey," Harry said.

"Do not thank me quite yet. I expect you to take these potions and your hands will have to be a two-person job. Now, I've already spoken with Professor Snape and I think we can agree to give you the option of staying here and allowing me to see to your injuries, or if you'd really like, you may leave and spend the night in Professor Snape's quarters. The choice is yours."

Harry visibly gulped, and Severus folded his arms as he waited for the boy's answer. He knew from past experiences that the boy did not like staying in the infirmary, and he hoped that the child picked his quarters. It would be much easier to keep a close eye on the boy and Severus had no plans of letting that child out of his sight anytime soon.

"I think I'll go with Professor Snape," Harry answered, lowering his head and playing with a loose thread on the blanket.

"Very well," Poppy said, nodding her head. "I'll collect your potions and extra bandage material . . ." She trailed off as she moved away, digging through her storage for the right potions.

Severus sat down on the edge of Harry's bed, catching the boy's hand and pushing it away from the thread before it could be pulled any more than it already was. Harry rested his hands in his lap and looked up at Severus.

"You will rest for the day," Severus said. "We will take care of your disobedience tomorrow when you are better."

Severus was secretly glad that his tone made the tip of Harry's ears burn red and the boy nodded at him. He was about to explain what exactly he thought about Harry's little adventure down the trapdoor when none other than Albus walked into the room, twinkling eyes and grinning beards. Severus narrowed his eyes at the man.

"Ah, good morning, Harry," Albus said, standing at the end of Harry's bed. "I see you're awake and well. Severus, good morning to you as well."

"Indeed," Severus replied.

"Perhaps Poppy could use your assistance in gathering supplies for Harry before he leaves?" Albus suggested to Severus, giving the man a pointed look.

Severus glanced at Harry then back at Albus. He sighed and raised his hands in defeat, taking the hint and giving the two some space to talk. He had a vague idea of what Albus wanted to say to Harry, and there was no need for him to argue to stick around and listen when he could interrogate the information out of Harry later if he felt the need to. He summoned a house elf and asked for a set of clean but light clothes for Harry from the boy's dresser in his quarters. Then, he joined Poppy in her storage room and leaned against the counter where Poppy was busy mixing up and vialing the potions Harry needed. She smirked at Severus as he folded his arms and crossed his ankles in annoyance.

"Kicked out of the conversation by Albus?" Poppy asked, eyeing a vial as she filled it with a moderate dose.

"I'm sure he's filling Harry's head with tales of heroism as we speak," Severus snapped, glaring at the doorway. "I'll make sure that boy knows better than that when I'm through with him."

"I'm sure Harry only wanted to help. Kids get these ideas in their heads that adults are incapable of handling adult matters, you know."

"I'm becoming increasingly aware."

When Poppy finished mixing the salve, she handed it and several small vials to Severus, who slipped them into inner robe pockets.

"The red and blue vials need to be taken every night for the next seven days, and the green vial needs to be taken in the morning for the next ten days to ward off any infections or colds from being down in those chambers. The salve needs to be applied thickly on his hands tonight, so there should be plenty there to coat both hands. Here's some extra bandage material. Tomorrow, those burns should have healed, but if they have not, you need to bring him right back here."

The house elf returned with a set of clean clothes for Harry, and Severus accepted them with a nod to the elf.

"Of course," Severus said. He set the clothes down on the counter to pocket the pouch of bandage materials. "Dragging him back to the infirmary will be the highlight of my morning. If you have such little faith in your salve, perhaps you should just give me a second dose now and we'll call it a day."

"You know I can't do that," Poppy said with a smirk, crossing her arms. "It's a potent burn salve, and if it doesn't work, Harry may need a different type of treatment only a specialist can provide."

"A specialist, eh? And where might I find one?"

Poppy rolled her eyes and stepped around Severus, leaving the storage room. Severus followed her, not surprised to see that Albus had already left. Poppy stopped in front of Harry's bed.

"Well, young man," she said, "you're all set to go. I'll let your friends know where you are. Shall I tell the rest of the school the Boy-Who-Lives is not accepting any visitors?" Poppy addressed the last question to Severus.

"Tell them what you will," he replied. "You could tell the whole school he succumbed to his injuries for all I care."

"Dad, no one's going to believe that." Harry snorted. "I'm sure Hermione and Ron already shared what happened with at least everyone in Gryffindor."

"Then they shall be greatly devastated for a plot twist," Severus said before he motioned to the boy to get out of the bed. He handed the boy fresh clothes. "Up with you and get dressed. I would like to have you settled in your bed for a long nap."

"But I just woke up," Harry said. "I don't need a nap. And I'm kind of hungry."

"You will eat when we get you in bed."

With a loud, dramatic sigh, Harry accepted the clothes and Severus and Poppy stepped out from behind the curtains to give the boy some privacy. When Harry was dressed, Severus thanked Poppy for her care and Harry did the same. With that, Severus led Harry down several mostly unused halls to the dungeons, effectively avoiding any students and other professors. When they arrived in Severus's quarters, Severus directed the boy to bed while he saw to it that breakfast was made.

A generous amount of everything served in the Great Hall appeared on a platter, and Severus frowned at the selections. He figured something simple and easy on the stomach would do for now. Harry didn't need anything heavy before he rested until lunch. He selected a plate of plain white toast with jam and added a small bowl of yogurt with strawberries. Using a hover charm, he let the plate float in the air while he poured the boy a glass of milk—he certainly did not deserve pumpkin juice after all. Severus snatched the plate out of the air and carried it and the juice to Harry's room.

Except Harry was not in the room.

"Harry," Severus called as he set the plate and cup on the nightstand.

"Sorry, I needed the loo," Harry announced as he appeared in the doorway. "That's a cool desk, by the way. Where did you get it?"

"I do not believe the loo lives in my potions lab."

"I was just looking. I didn't go in. The door was open, and the desk was right there. Did you make it? I saw an ax on the lab table."

"I did. Sit." Severus pointed at the boy's bed.

"Really?" Harry jumped up on his bed and crossed his legs, watching as Severus arranged the blankets around him before handing him the plate of breakfast. Harry absently picked up a piece of toast, but he kept talking. "How did you make a whole desk? Where did you get the wood? Did you use magic, or did you do it the muggle way? Where did you learn to even do that?"

"Eat your breakfast," Severus said.

Harry sighed and took a bite of the food, finally looking down at the plate. His eyebrows furrowed, and Severus was sure the boy was disappointed in the small selection, but Severus was not about to indulge the boy. Severus watched Harry take a couple more bites of his toast before he spoke.

"I expect you to eat all of your yogurt and fruit as well," he said before Harry could pick up more toast. The boy glanced up at him then turned his plate and began eating the strawberries out of the yogurt. Severus frowned, but said nothing about it. Instead, he answered the boy's earlier questions.

"My father was a carpenter. Whenever my parents fought, I would go to my father's workplace and his partner taught me about woodworking. It was a good distraction back then."

"Oh," Harry looked down at his plate. "Did you need a distraction from something? Is that why you made a desk?"

Severus thought his words over carefully.

"It did help distract me from my withdrawal symptoms. But I do enjoy the physical act of building. I forgot how much so, actually. I made the desk for you."

"Really?" Harry's head snapped up and a smile grew on his face. "Thanks! Do you think you could teach me how to do that?"

Severus raised a brow. "Perhaps you could help me make your own chair."

Harry's smile grew.

"After your restriction, of course. I'm thinking at least two weeks of thinking time in your room will help remind you why it is imperative to obey me, wouldn't you agree?"

"Not really," Harry mumbled over a bite of yogurt.

"Pity. Unfortunately for you, that decision isn't yours to make. We will have this talk tomorrow after your hands have healed. For now, finish your breakfast and then you will rest."

"But I'm really not tired," Harry said with a small whine. "I can't just lay here and do nothing all day. I'll die of boredom."

"You will survive. I'll make sure of it." Severus raised a hand and summoned a book. He set it on the nightstand. "Here. If you absolutely must, you may read. You can manipulate your finger and thumb enough to turn a page, correct? Good. Don't overexert yourself, and I do not want to see you out of this bed for anything but the loo. Understand."

"Yes, sir." Harry looked at the title of the book: Treasure Island by Robert L. Stevenson.

"I think you'll enjoy that story," Severus said, seeing Harry's face morph into a small smile. The boy was probably glad it wasn't a textbook. "Finish your breakfast and leave your dishes on the nightstand. The house elves will collect them. I will check on you in a bit."

Severus left the bedroom, closing the door silently behind him. He made his way over to his lab, where he used his wand to push the wooden desk to the back wall covering it with a light sheet, he summoned from his bedroom closet. He had forgotten to shut the door when he had left last night, but he was glad Harry had found it and showed an interest in woodworking. He would be more than happy to teach Harry how to build some useful appliances for himself. It was a useful skill to know.

Severus emptied his pockets of the vials of potions and salve and settled everything on a shelf in his lab. Satisfied for now, he moved to a worktable where lines of filled vials waited to be graded. He picked up a quill and his grade book and began marking the names of students who passed or failed their practical final from first to seventh year. Usually he broke it off into groups and graded first through third and fourth through seventh, but he had fallen so far behind grading, he had to do it all at once. He would have to suffer through it as it was his own fault he was in this predicament.

Nearly two hours passed, and Severus was one-third of the way through his grading when he remembered that he had wanted to check on Harry. He set everything down and rushed over to the boy's door, hoping the child had listened to his orders of staying in bed.

He opened the door and froze at the sight.

Harry was asleep with the open book resting against his glasses, one hand half attempting to hold the book where it was, his other hand hanging off the bed.

Severus smiled and stepped into the room as quietly as he could. With careful fingers, he removed the book off Harry's face and bookmarked the page with a swiftly summoned quill. He removed Harry's glasses, folded them, and set them on top of the book. Sliding his fingers under Harry, he slid the boy over more on the bed, pushing the child's arm under the blanket and tucking him in firmly. And just as quickly as he entered, he left.

Harry had been well behaved all day and night. The two ae dinner together in Harry's room, Severus having summoned a chair to sit close to the boy. Afterwards, they chatted about things like summer plans and visiting friends while Severus unbandaged Harry's hands and applied the required salve before rebandaging the hands once more.

The next day came too quickly for anyone's liking.

Even so, Harry was happy to be out of bed with healed hands and he came tearing into the eating room still in his pajamas.

"Slow down," Severus scolded from his seat at the head table. He set the required potions Harry had to take in front of the boy's seat.

"Sorry," Harry said, sitting down at his seat to the right of Severus and drinking the potions as quickly as he could, his face scrunching at the taste. "I'm just starving. You barely let me eat yesterday."

"I gave you plenty of food. You were simply being picky with your options."

"You didn't give me good options."

The table filled with the variety of food served at the Great Hall and Harry happily began dishing out scrambled eggs, bacon, beans and toast, and a full glass of pumpkin juice. Harry began happily digging in while Severus helped himself to porridge with fruit toppings. Harry noticed his choice and frowned.

"All of this food and you pick that?" Harry asked.

"Madam Pomfrey's orders," Severus said. "Whether they are good options or not, I will not waste any food."

Harry humphed and returned to his own breakfast. Severus took a bite of his own before opening the Daily Prophet. "When you are finished, make your way to the lounge so we may tend to your punishment before I have you shower."

It was as if Severus had hexed the boy with his words. The child froze with his forkful of eggs raised midway to his mouth and his cheeks burned. He lowered his fork to his plate with a cling and swallowed.

"I forgot about that," he said.

"In that case I am glad to remind you that the crazy late-night adventure you and your friends embarked on was highly forbidden and against several school rules."

"I remember that. I just thought I would only be on restriction, like you said. What's wrong with that?"

"If I recall correctly," Severus said, lowering his paper and setting it aside, giving Harry his full attention, "I never said your only punishment would be restriction. And as I've said before, how I choose to discipline you isn't up for debate. You recklessly put your life in danger over something that I have told you countless times to leave alone. You've been warned, Harry, and yet you still went behind my back and pursued a dangerous item that nearly got you and your friends killed without so much as a second thought."

"We did try to tell someone. But Dumbledore wasn't available, McGonagall didn't believe us, and you were in the infirmary."

"You will remember to address all of your professors with respect and use their appropriate titles. And what about any other professor? I know there are several more you could have gone to. Madam Pomfrey even. And even if Professor McGonagall did not believe your words in the moment, our jobs are to alert the headmaster of any suspicious activities in the castle, and she did let the headmaster know of your behavior."

"Wait . . . she did?"

"Who do you think found you in the chamber not long after you fell unconscious?"

"I thought since she didn't believe us, she wasn't going to do anything. I was just trying to help. I saved the stone."

"You did not do an inkling of thinking. You assumed you knew best and took off after Professor Quirrell who nearly killed you."

"I didn't know Voldemort would be hiding in the back of his head!"

"Do not say that name!"

"Sorry," Harry said in a much quieter tone, looking down at his abandoned plate.

Severus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes and counting backwards from ten. This conversation had gotten out of hand quite quickly. He was supposed to be lecturing the brat not arguing with him.

"Why don't you like me saying . . . that name?" Harry asked.

There was a silence between them for a long moment.

Severus sighed and answered truthfully, "It is painful, Harry. The name alone brings back painful memories."

Severus did not dive any further into the horrors of the First Wizarding War or the guilty twinge of pain that shot up his arm every time he heard that name and was reminded of his careless, idiotic mistake. He opened his eyes and looked at Harry, taking in the boy's contrite face.

"I didn't know," Harry said. "Sorry."

"It is all right. As you said, you didn't know."

The two sat in silence for a few minutes before Harry stubbornly pushed his food away.

"I'm not hungry anymore," the boy said.

Severus sighed, waving his hand over the table, vanishing their breakfast.

"Would you rather get your punishment over with now?" he asked knowingly.

"I guess."

"You may have a snack in a couple hours, then. I will not have you going hungry. Come."

Severus led Harry into the living room, sitting down on the couch and positioning Harry in between his knees. He tilted the boy's head up with a finger under his chin.

"You understand why you are being spanked, right?"

"For risking my life when I went after the stone," Harry said.

"I want you to know how much you have come to mean to me," Severus continued. "If something had happened to you, I would have been devastated. As it was, you had me up with worry that night while you were in the infirmary. You cannot put yourself in life-threatening situations like that again, young man. If you do, your consequences with me will always be the same. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said, quickly brushing away a tear that had escaped his eye.

With nothing further to say, Severus adjusted the child over his knees and gave the boy his first bare-bottomed spanking, a good twenty that left his bottom a rose color.

Harry sobbed into Severus's chest once he was stood up and his clothes were righted. While his bum did hurt fiercely, he was more embarrassed by the whole ordeal than anything else, and his face was just as red as his punished backside. Severus wrapped his arms around Harry tightly, holding the boy close. After a few minutes of sniffing, Harry spoke first.

"I'm really sorry."

"I know. You're forgiven, my son."

"You-you didn't have to pull my shorts down."

"And you didn't have to go after that stone. I suppose life is full of tough choices, isn't it?"

Harry said nothing as he rested his head against Severus's chest enjoying the comfort of the strong arms around him. Severus hummed softly as he carded his fingers through the boy's hair, happy that the boy was healed and safe.

The train arrived at King's Cross Station at exactly noon, and Severus watched from the shadows as Harry said goodbye to his friends and their families. Severus had told Harry that he would pick the boy up late, after most of the students had already left, but he couldn't resist missing Harry's happy goodbyes to a school that had changed their lives for the better.

After goodbyes were given, Harry sat down on a bench to wait. Severus stayed where he was, also waiting for most of the crowd to vanish. Nearly forty minutes passed, and Severus finally stepped away from the post he was leaning on and emerged from the shadows, pulling the hood of his cloak over his head. He walked up to Harry, who smiled up at him and grabbed his suitcase. Hedwig had remained at Hogwarts to be picked up and flooed directly home once Severus and Harry were settled.

Severus quietly walked Harry away from the station and out of Muggle eyesight before he removed the hood and slipped the cloak off his shoulders, shrinking it and pocketing it. He smiled down at Harry.

"How was your trip?"

"It was great! Hermione and Ron promised to write often, and I can't wait to hear from them again."

"You didn't cause any trouble on the train, did you?"

"Dad," Harry complained, leaning against the man. "I'm not always in trouble."

"Could have fooled me." Severus said, taking Harry's suitcase and shrinking it. He slipped it in a jacket pocket and wrapped an arm around the boy's shoulder. "Hold tight, we're going to apparate."

Harry closed his eyes as they apparated from London to their destination. When Harry opened his eyes, he frowned and looked up at Severus.

"Where are we? I thought we were going right home."

"We are," Severus said, walking toward the bus stop to wait for the next bus. They were in a new, unfamiliar city and Severus couldn't help but smirk as Harry looked around as he followed Severus. "But first, I have a surprise for you."

"Really?" Harry smiled, then frowned. "But I thought I was on restriction for another week still."

"You most definitely are. But that doesn't mean I can't give you a surprise when I feel like it."

Harry's frown deepened, but he sat next to Severus at the bus stop, swinging his legs as they waited. Fifteen minutes later, a bus arrived, and they boarded and rode for another thirty minutes. Harry kept looking out the window expectantly, as if a billboard would hint at his surprise. Finally, they arrived at their destination: Ostbridge.

Severus kept Harry close as they got off the bus and walked through the small town. Harry smiled at everything, pausing to peer through windows and awing at the public library, forcing Severus to urge the boy forward with a hand on the boy's back. They walked down the road where quiet houses waited, some couples waving to Severus and Harry as they walked by. Severus nodded to them while Harry eagerly waved back.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked, still walking when Severus abruptly stopped.

Severus cleared his throat, catching Harry's attention and the boy stopped a few feet ahead of him. Severus motioned down a pathway with his head.

"We're going here."

Harry walked back to Severus, looking down the pathway at the bungalow house.

"Are we visiting family of yours?"

"Please," Severus said with a roll of his eyes, "you're all I have left. This is our new home."

Harry's mouth dropped and a grin spread across his lips.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Ah, welcome," Freddy said, the seller of the house exiting and walking down the pathway. He shook hands with Severus, handing over the keys. "I've got her all set for you; she is officially yours."

"Thanks, again, Mr. Leitz," Severus said.

"It's just Freddy," he said. He spotted Harry and offered his hand out. "And you must be Harry. I've heard a lot about you."

"Nice to meet you, sir," Harry said, shaking the man's hand. "This is our house for real?"

"For real. Why don't you run in there and check it out!"

Harry ran down the path and into the house, his "wows" and "brilliants" audible by the men outside. They laughed at Harry's enthusiasm.

"He's a cool kid," Freddy commented.

"He is," Severus agreed. "A very brilliant kid."

"So, will I continue seeing you every Tuesday and Friday at AA, or now that your home from work, do you plan on coming down to the chapel more often?"

"I think for now, it might be easier to continue as I have been while I get myself and Harry settled here. I'm expecting a visit from child services in a couple days—my social worker would like to see the new house and of course check up on Harry."

"I remember you mentioning that situation. If you need a reference or anything, let me know."

"You're a good man, Freddy," Severus said. "Thank you for everything you've done."

"Of course. And now that you live here, maybe you'll actually introduce yourself at the next meet."

"Perhaps."

"Hey, Dad," Harry interrupted, running out of the house. "Can I have the big room?"

"Absolutely not," Severus answered, narrowing his eyes at his son.

Freddy chuckled, then pat Severus's shoulder. "I'll let you two settle in. It was very nice meeting you, Harry. I expect to see you both around town some time, don't be strangers!"

"Bye Freddy!" Harry waved to the man as Severus walked up to their new house, nodding in farewell at Freddy as the man honked twice before driving away. Harry excitedly showed Severus his favorite parts of the new house, especially the window seat in the boy's new bedroom. Their next step together was just beginning.

Chapter Text

Severus closed the door then tried to open it again, having to tug a couple times in order to do so. Harry stood off to his side watching curiously. Severus shut the door again and felt around the frame of the door, checking its alignment. He forced the door open once more and then pushed against the hinges, watching them closely.

"See here, Harry," Severus said, pointing to the bottom hinge.

Harry stepped closer and peered down at the hinge while Severus pushed against the door. The hinge moved just slightly at the pressure. Harry looked up at Severus.

"Loose screws," Severus said. "Grab that screwdriver and tighten those for me."

Harry quickly opened the toolbox he had carried over and grabbed the screwdriver, making sure the head matched the screws. He tightened the screws while Severus held the door steady, using his free hand to feel along the door.

"Done," Harry announced.

Severus looked down and nodded at Harry's work. He closed the door again, and it still stuck, not to Severus's surprise.

"Do you see the gap between the door and the jamb here and here?" Severus asked, running his finger along the gap running up the door. At Harry's nod, he ran his finger up and down along the uppermost region of the door. "What do you make of this?"

"There's no gap there," Harry said. "It's where it's sticking."

"What's that mean then?"

"It means this hinge has been warped or sprung somehow," Severus said, testing the mobility of the hinge. "With a slight adjustment, it should fix the door's sticking problem. We'll pull the pin out first, hand me the hammer and the cutters."

Harry did as he was asked, watching fascinated as Severus grabbed the head of the pin with the cutters and tapped the hammer against them to pull the pin out. From there, Severus handed Harry the tools and the pin with clear instructions not to loose the pin before picking up the wrench and tightening them over the hinge knuckles of the door and bending the knuckle by pushing on the wrench toward the face of the door. He did the same to another knuckle on the hinge, and then another.

"There," Severus said, setting the wrench in his toolbox. "That should do it."

Severus slipped a door stopper under the closed door, shoving it under until the door appeared more aligned. He accepted the pin, cutters, and hammer back from Harry. He placed the cup end of the cutters over the head of the pin and with a couple taps the pin was back in the hinge. Severus gave the tools back to Harry. He pulled the door stopper out and then opened the door easily, closed it, and opened it again.

"That's brilliant, Dad, you fixed it!" Harry exclaimed, a big grin on his face.

"It is just a door, Harry," Severus said, taking his tools and putting that back where they belonged. "Your desk was harder to do than that."

"Still cool," Harry said. "And you didn't even use magic."

"Go tell Mrs. Tuffins her door is fixed."

"Yes, sir."

Harry ran down the hall excitedly before Severus could tell him to slow down. Severus shook his head and gathered his things before following the boy, walking into the kitchen just as Harry finished explaining the problem to the elderly woman.

"So, it shouldn't stick anymore for you, Mrs. Tuffins," Harry said with a smile to the woman. "It's all fixed."

"Oh, that is wonderful," she said, smiling at Severus as he walked through her kitchen. "Thank you, gentlemen. I won't have to worry about going through that door anymore and getting trapped behind it. I don't have the strength I used to to force it open anymore, I'm afraid. It was very nice of you, Harry-dear, to ask your father if he could take a look at it."

"Oh, no," he said, "that won't be necessary, ma'am. I'm just happy to help."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. It is my thanks to you for the delicious lasagna you sent to us."

"You are too sweet, Severus-dear." Mrs. Tuffins sank back in her chair.

"You're welcome. Have a good evening, ma'am. Come, Harry."

"Thanks for the biscuits, Mrs. Tuffins," Harry said, grabbing three of them for the road.

"You're welcome, laddie. Now, don't be strangers. I'll see you around town, new neighbors."

Severus waited until Harry was at his side before walking out of his neighbor's house with his son, who was quickly trying to consume three biscuits before Severus make him put two away for another day.

"If you choke on those, I will refrain from using the Heimlich maneuver to teach you some manners."

Harry coughed on some crumbs before successfully swallowing his third biscuit. He glared up at his father.

"You'd let me choke and die?"

"Don't be so dramatic—I'd wait until you were at least blue."

"Gee, thanks."

"Next time, eat like a civilized being and not some sugar-starved four-year-old." Severus set his kit down on the sidewalk and opened his mailbox, pulling out what had arrived and shuffling through it. He gestured to his toolbox.

"Put that in the laundry room for me," he told Harry as he walked up the pathway to their house. Harry grabbed the box and ran up the pathway, getting to the door first and heading inside. Severus set the mail down on the island counter and picked an envelope up and opened it, reading the contents inside while Harry ran back out to the kitchen, pausing on the other side of the counter.

"Will you quit running around like some hooligan?" Severus snapped.

"Sorry," Harry said.

"And quit signing me up for handyman jobs around town, would you?"

"She needed help—she got stuck behind that door for a whole day one time and had to stop using that door. She asked nicely if I could help or knew someone who could, and I did! What was I supposed to say: my dad's an introvert and would rather not help you?"

Severus looked up from his bills and quirked a brow.

"You could at least run it by me first before agreeing to anything. What if I didn't know how to fix her door? Then what?"

"You said it yourself—it's just a door."

"So I did," Severus agreed, as he folded up the paper and opened another envelope.

"Anything interesting?" Harry asked.

"In muggle mail? Hardly."

"I still haven't got any letters from my friends. I sent Ron and Hermione another letter, but nothing's come back from them."

"Perhaps there is a delay in the system," Severus suggested. He gathered up his mail and moved to his bedroom, Harry following him.

"Maybe. Can I go to the library?"

"No," Severus answered quickly. He set his mail on the desk in his room.

"Why not?"

"I have a meet in an hour, and I don't want you walking home by yourself at night in an unfamiliar town."

"But it's not unfamiliar, we've lived her for two weeks. I'll be careful. I know not to talk to strangers and besides, the Dursley's used to let me walk home from school all the time and that was a lot farther than just down the street. I'll even come back before you leave for your meeting."

"I know, that's why I haven't asked to go." Harry winced at that memory, but he really didn't want to sit home alone again while his father was at the meeting. As much as he enjoyed watching the television or reading books, he really liked getting out of the house and visiting different places.

"A wise decision on your part."

"But that was a week ago. I'll pay attention to the clock this time," Harry promised. "I'll even sit right by it. And the church is on the way home, you'll even see me when I walk by, I bet. I promise to come straight home."

Severus sighed as he thought that over. He could easily miss Harry walking by the church even if he glanced out the window every minute. The sun would be setting soon and the streetlights would come on, and by that point, it would be far too late for Harry to be out in town by himself. However, Harry had been pretty well behaved since the library incident, and he was sure it would be rather boring to sit in the house locked up and alone. Perhaps Harry would even find a friend tonight.

"You may go to the library," Severus decided, and Harry's face lit up. "On one condition: you start walking home when the first streetlights turn on."

"The first streetlights." Harry nodded, turning for the bedroom door. "Okay, I can do that."

"Listen to me," Severus said, effectively stopping the child in his tracks. "The very first streetlights you see, Harry, not the last ones. It should not even be dark out then. If you leave a minute later, you will be facing dire consequences."

"I know, I know, can I go before it gets any later?"

"Watch yourself," Severus warned, giving Harry a stern look. He crooked a finger at Harry and pointed to the spot in front of himself. "Come here."

Harry sighed and walked over to his father. Severus summoned Harry's jacket and held it out for him to take. Harry frowned at it.

"It's too hot for that."

"It will get chillier this evening. At least take it with you."

"Fine."

"Hmm?"

"Yes, sir." Harry took the jacket before he pushed the man any further.

"Thank you. Do not forget your key to the house. Now go before I come to my senses and assign you an essay to work on in your bedroom while I'm gone. Three feet on how highly aggravating your whining is."

Harry ran out as fast as he could.

Later that evening, Severus continued glancing at the window in hopes of catching Harry walking by. That evening, it turned out to be the usual six attenders—himself, Freddy, and four others who reliably attended several meetings. Severus had grown more comfortable with this group and knew them more intimately after many of their conversations—though everyone else was still trying to figure Severus out. He had yet to really introduce himself aside from his name, much to Freddy's amusement.

Still, he found that he could not engage as much as he usually could in the smaller group this evening. He kept searching the window, concern growing as the sky darkened more and the streetlights kept flickering on.

A half hour into his meet, it started pouring.

With a frustrated noise that caught everyone's attention, Severus stood and walked over to the table where small snacks and drinks waited, he poured himself a tea, trying to convince himself that Harry had walked by without him noticing. It was a possibility, as he did try to listen to the other members without seeming too distracted.

He was just taking a sip of his tea when the door to the church flew open and Harry rushed inside, pushing the door closed. He was panting and soaked from head to toe.

Severus abandoned his tea and ran over to Harry.

"What on earth are you doing here?" Severus asked, already trying to pull the soaked jacket off Harry. "Do you realize what time it is?"

"Dad, there's . . ."

"I told you to go home when the streetlights came on—look at you. You're soaked."

Freddy stepped over to the two with a towel and offered it to Harry, who used it to dry his face first, muttering a soft "thank you."

"I was reading, and I lost track of time, but . . ."

"There is no excuse for this—this is the second time you've pulled this stunt. You are done with the library until you learn how to pay attention to—"

"Someone's following me!" Harry finally shouted.

Severus paused, his eyes widening briefly before he threw a look to Freddy, who frowned and cautiously stepped outside. Severus took the towel from Harry.

"You saw someone following you?" he asked.

"I couldn't see them, but I could hear them. And when I walked faster, so did they."

"Well, there's no one out there now," Freddy said, closing the door and putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. "You are safe here. Let me go find you a blanket to warm up under."

Harry nodded then looked guilty at Severus. Freddy walked away in search of the blanket.

"I got caught up in the book I was reading," Harry tried to explain again.

"I told you when you were supposed to leave the library, did I not?" Severus discreetly cast a drying spell on Harry, using the towel to hide his wand as he moved from the boy's toes to his hair, the slipped his wand up his sleeve and rubbed the towel on the boy's head for show. "All that whining and meaningless promising that you'd make it home on time and here you are. This is exactly why I didn't want you there at this time to begin with. Do not ask me to go to the library again for the rest of this summer. You are grounded from that."

"I'm sorry," Harry said, looking down at his shoes to avoid looks from the other attendees in the room. "I really am. I didn't think something like that would happen."

Severus sighed. He pulled his son into a tight embrace.

"I'm glad you're safe. That's all I really care about."

Harry returned the hug, resting his head against Severus's chest and closing his eyes.

"Here we go," Freddy announced, holding up a large blanket. "This should warm you up."

Freddy frowned when he saw Harry.

"Impressive," he said. "I don't know what technique you used, but you'll have to teach me sometime."

Freddy handed the blanket to Harry, who wrapped it around his shoulders. Severus wrapped Harry's jacket in the towel and wrung it, soaking the towel in doing so. Freddy offered to hang the jacket.

"I'm sorry, Freddy," Severus said, "but I should take my son home. I'll see you next time?"

"No." Harry shook his head as he rested a hand on Severus's arm. "Don't leave because of me."

"Must you leave?" Freddy asked. "It's just us after all, I don't think the others would mine. What do you all say?"

Everyone nodded in agreement with small smiles.

"Let him stay," Jo Lee said, "he ain't hurting anybody."

"Fine with me," another attender said.

"We're just sharing our day and enjoying each other's support," Freddy reminded. "Nothing too personal, and I'm sure everyone will enjoy his company."

"If you're sure?" Severus asked.

"Most definitely. Besides, we should be wrapping up in about twenty minutes or so. It's still raining out there as well by the looks of it."

He was clearly outnumbered by the group and Mother Nature. Severus relented and nodded. While Freddy set up another chair in their circle, Severus pulled Harry over to the snacks table. Reaching into his robes, Severus pulled out a Pepper-up potion in a small vial. He handed it to Harry then began pouring another cup of tea for his son.

"What's this?" Harry asked.

"You don't know?" Severus inquired.

Harry studied the vial. He pulled the cork off and sniffed it. "A Pepper-up? Why?"

"To help ward off any colds or infections you may have acquired from running around in pouring rain. Take it quickly so we may join the others. And don't for one second think that we won't be having a lengthy discussion when we get home."

Harry made a face but quickly drank the potion and handed the vial back to Severus. He accepted the cup of tea and drank away the repulsive taste still lingering on his tongue. Severus picked up his own abandoned cup and led Harry back to the group, both sitting down and listening to Jo Lee talk about her troublesome kitchen cabinets.

"It started with one and now all of them are practically falling off the walls," Jo Lee explained. "It's made for a long week trying to find someone who'll fix them at a decent price without having to tear it all down and buy new ones. Either way, it's costing me an arm and a leg."

Harry perked up at that and looked up at Severus's impassive face. As another member offered advice on a handyman he knew, Harry fidgeted in his seat before raising his hand, earning smiles and some laughs. Freddy chuckled before pointing at Harry. "Question, Harry?"

"Not a question. I just wanted to say that Dad is pretty good at fixing things." Harry gestured to Severus, who rolled his eyes. "We, well, he fixed a door at Mrs. Tuffins today. She's our neighbor."

"Really?" Jo Lee smiled. "Severus? I never would have guessed."

"Maybe he'd help you with your cabinets," Harry suggested. He looked up pointedly at Severus, who had been trying to glare his son into silence. When his eyes met Harry's, he gave Harry a stern look before meeting Jo Lee's eyes.

"I could take look at your cabinets," he said. "I can't promise a miracle if there's no saving them, but it sounds like they need to be refastened and anchored to the wall."

"If you could take a look, that would be wonderful," Jo Lee said. "What do you charge?"

"Nothing for you," Severus said, waving the idea off. "I'm sure my son will be doing most of the work anyway." Severus smirked down at Harry, who gave him an annoyed look back.

"Look at that," Freddy remarked, "we learned something about Severus. Perhaps you should come around more often, Harry."

Severus glared at the grinning child.

After the group finished their small talk and were busy saying their goodbyes, Severus spotted Harry at the snacks table looking over the different options. He narrowed his eyes and quietly walked up to his son, grabbing Harry's shoulders when he was directly behind him. Harry jumped, but relaxed and smiled up at him when he realized who it was. Severus leaned down and whispered in Harry's ear.

"Offering me up for free labor again, eh?"

"You're the one who won't take anything." Harry grabbed a brownie. "Besides, you weren't saying anything, and I know you can fix it"

"Perhaps I should send you out to Jo Lee's alone and see how well you're retaining everything I've showed you."

"I'd botch it up extra just for you."

"How very like you, you insolent brat."

Severus gave Harry's shoulders a rough squeeze before releasing the laughing boy.

"That's enough sugar for you," Severus said, pulling Harry away from the table. "We still have the situation with the library to discuss when we get home. Do not expect any desserts or treats in your future."

"Never again?" Harry asked with a smirk.

"Indeed."

Severus shook hands with Freddy, grabbed Harry's still wet jacket, and after a quick goodbye, he led Harry out of the church and started walking for his house in a very light sprinkle. Harry suddenly huddled closer to him, his eyes darting around wildly. Severus looked down at Harry, then did a quick glance around.

"Relax, Harry," Severus said. He wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders and pulled him tight against his side, rubbing Harry's arm. "There's no one around now."

"I feel like I'm being watched."

"You're just jumpy after the scare you had earlier. You did the right thing by coming to me at the church rather than attempting to run home. And if something like that ever happens again and I'm not around, you go to the nearest public area and call the landline. You know how to use the phones, right?"

Harry nodded.

"Good. The tea shop is a good place, they are usually open late. You can head back to the library, or down to the police station if you are closer to it. Do not attempt to walk all the way home, it gets too dark the further from town you go. Remember that."

"Yes, sir. I'll remember."

The two walked silently the rest of the way to the house, and when they arrived, Severus silently pointed to the couch while he removed his cloak, and Harry hung the now spell-dried jacket on a hanger, slipped off his shoes, and moved to the couch, sitting down and twiddling his fingers.

Severus took his time hanging his cloak and slipping his boots off. He had thought about how he wanted to address Harry's inattentiveness to time for most of the night. He had considered taking the child over his knees the minute they got home, but now, he really did not have it in him. Besides, tonight had been a lesson in the consequences of wandering after dark when he should have been paying attention to the streetlights.

Severus stepped into the living room and sat in the armchair facing the couch. Harry did not look up at him. Severus spoke first.

"What did I tell you to do before you left for the library?"

Harry bit his lower lip before saying, "To walk home when the first streetlights came on. But I . . ."

"Absolutely not," Severus interrupted, his eyes narrowing. "You knew when you were supposed to come home. That should have been top priority on your mind while you were at the library. You should have been checking the lights and how dark it was getting every five minutes to say the least."

"But I was reading, and I got caught up in the story and . . ."

"If you cannot even attempt to try to be on time, then you will not be permitted to go to the library at all this summer."

"I'll do better next time. I'll pay attention and . . ."

"I'm sure you will do better because I plan to help you."

"What do you mean?" Harry frowned and tilted his head just the slightest.

"For the next three days you will follow a strict schedule not unlike when you are in school," Severus did not miss the way Harry's face fell at that. He continued. "I will write each day out for you and this begins first thing in the morning. Breakfast will be at eight am, not a minute after. If you are late, you will receive plain porridge only. You will be given various chores to complete throughout the day as well as scheduled breaks and study time. I will be checking in on you throughout the day to see if you have completed everything you need to. If you miss or do not finish a chore, you will complete it during your next break. Lunch will be at twelve thirty and dinner at six as usual. If your chores are not complete, you will have to complete them after you eat. Do not try to finish them before, because if I have to wait for you, you will be served plain sandwiches. Any questions so far?"

Harry shrugged, but his face spoke volumes as it contorted in obvious dislike at the sound of his punishment.

"A shrug is not an answer. You will learn to pace yourself while being mindful of the time."

"So, I won't have any free time now? That's not fair." Harry crossed his arms.

"Being worried sick due to your negligence is not fair. And as I said, I will schedule breaks for you, but it is entirely up to you if you'll be able to have that time."

"What if I can't complete all the chores?" Harry asked, chewing his bottom lip.

Severus considered Harry for a moment. Harry seemed nervous for some reason, and Severus wondered if there was some relation to the boy's relatives with that question.

"I've told you what to expect if you miss or cannot complete a chore. I see no reason why you would not be able to do everything I'll assign you. However, if you are truly struggling, we will re-evaluate if needed."

Harry was silent for a minute.

"What if I chose not to do them?"

Severus quirked a brow at that. He was not expecting that question. Harry was clearly testing him.

"I suppose we could scrap this punishment and I could give in to my first impulse to turn you over my knee for a sound smacking."

Harry blushed and shook his head.

"I thought so." Severus leaned forward. "Assuming this goes well, perhaps I'll allow one more chance to prove to me that you can go to the library and return home at a time I give you." A small smile graced Harry's face at that. Severus decided Harry understood his punishment well enough. He leaned forward and said: "One more thing: you're sure you did not see who was following you?"

"I couldn't see them. I only heard small footsteps walking whenever I walked."

"You're positive? Not a glimpse of anyone? There was no one on your way to the library or at the library that acted in any way suspicious?"

"No one I saw. I promise I didn't see anyone. I would tell you if I did."

"Hmm." Severus glanced at the clock. "It is nearly ten o'clock, way past your bedtime."

"Only by thirty minutes," Harry said, even as he stood up and started heading for his bedroom. "Besides, I never fall asleep that early anyway."

"I could always make it earlier, young man."

"No, it's perfect, Dad. I'm going to bed."

"You better be."

Severus moved into the kitchen and poured himself another cup of tea. Tomorrow would prove interesting for sure. He was glad Harry accepted the punishment easily, but he was sure that would change by midday tomorrow. He leaned against the island counter and sipped his tea, giving Harry time to perform his nightly routines before he checked on him. It had become a nightly habit for him to at least look in on Harry and offer one last goodnight.

Severus set the cup down and thought about Harry's close encounter tonight. It frightened him to think that anyone in their small new town would want to harm his son. Even with the protective wards he put up around his property, he worried about what could happen away from his house. He would keep Harry on a tighter leash from now on until he could figure out who may have been following him, even if it frustrated Harry. It was his job to protect the boy and he would do just that.

After finishing his tea, Severus cast a self-washing charm on the cup and headed for Harry's room. He turned the light in the bathroom off and then knocked softly on Harry's door.

"Come in," Harry called.

Severus opened the door and was glad to see Harry under the covers, his desk lamp brightening what it could of the room. Severus sat on the edge of the bed.

"So you can follow instructions," he said.

Harry smiled and rolled on his side facing Severus.

"I do try," Harry said.

"I know." Severus leaned down and placed a kiss on Harry's temple. "Goodnight, Harry."

"Night, Dad. Love you."

"I love you, too, brat."

Severus flicked off Harry's lamp light and left the room, shutting the door softly behind him.

Chapter Text

Severus stared at his watch as he waited for Harry to come down the stairs for breakfast. Day one and the boy was already running late. He had knocked on Harry's door at seven thirty and Harry had announced that he was awake. The time changed from eight a.m. to eight o'one, and Severus heard Harry running down the stairs and toward the table.

He sat down in his seat and looked expectantly at Severus. Severus almost laughed at the boy's guilty but hopeful expression. However, he had made it clear that if Harry was even a minute late, he could expect a plain and simple breakfast. Not that it would hurt the child in the least.

"Plain porridge it is," Severus decided.

"No, come on," Harry complained, "I'm here. It was one minute."

"One minute late," Severus corrected as he waved his hand in the direction of the kitchen, and items and objects began flying about.

"You got to give me at least a minute to get down the stairs."

"It hardly took you a minute to get down the stairs when I brought ice cream home last Sunday."

"It did too."

"Enough," Severus said. "Do not for one second think that whining at me will get you anything but sent back to bed for a long nap." Severus waved his hand and a bowl of plain porridge flew out to Harry and settled in front of him. "Sit back and eat. You knew the stipulations of your punishment."

Harry grumbled while he slowly picked at the porridge.

Harry sighed and ate a couple bites.

Severus tapped the table and coffee appeared for him and orange juice for Harry. He lifted his paper and began reading while Harry ate. Once Harry pushed the bowl away, Severus folded his paper and set it aside. He held out a slip of paper for Harry, who opened it to read.

Clean the kitchen

Dust the bookshelf and fireplace

Rest period for thirty minutes

Pull weeds in front and back of house

Lunch

Study

Clean the bathroom

Scrubbing cauldrons

Helping with dinner

Take out garbage

Rest period before bed

"That's it?" Harry asked aloud.

"You will do a thorough job with each task," Severus said. He knew the list was probably nothing compared to what the Dursleys had forced Harry to do within a day, but Severus would not stoop to their level, even for a punishment. "And you will pace yourself accordingly. Your study time has not changed, so I expect you to be in a good place to stop and take that time you need to work on your summer homework and reading material."

"Okay," Harry said.

"You will find everything you need in the hall closet or in the cupboard under the sink. Any questions?"

"No, sir."

"Good. You may start with your dishes."

Harry drank the rest of his juice before standing up and heading to the kitchen sink, filling it with water and soap. Severus returned to his paper, keeping an eye on Harry's work. The boy was quick to get to work, and after washing the dishes and leaving them in the drying rack, he started wiping down all the counters and stovetop. After a while, Severus retreated to his desk in his bedroom to write out his lesson plans for the upcoming year. He started with the first years as they would be the easiest, then worked his way up. He had just finished his plans for the third years when he rose, stretched, and went to check on Harry's progress.

The kitchen was spotless, the floor swept and mopped. He moved through the living room and was surprised when he noticed the floors cleaned and every nook and crevice dusted and shiny. He spotted the mop bucket inside the bathroom and glanced inside to see the bathroom already completed. Sighing, Severus moved to the front door, scanning the yard for Harry.

"Jumping ahead schedule, are we?" Severus questioned.

"I knew I could get the list done early," Harry replied, turning to face Severus, his hands, forehead, and cheeks smeared in dirt. "Then I can have the afternoon free."

"And pass out from the amount of energy you exerted rushing through everything. I'm sure a nap was exactly how you wanted to spend your afternoon, after your study hours and scrubbing those cauldrons for me, of course."

"Well, no. But I never passed out after a long day of work at my relatives. I'll be fine."

"The point of what you are doing is to learn how to pace yourself and use your time wisely, not complete various chores in the least amount of time possible. Is that how you want your time at the library to be spent—rushed and exhausting?"

"No. But I'm pacing myself well." Harry looked at the watch he had shoved in his pocket. "I'm almost done with weeding, and it's still an hour till lunch."

"And now, you'll need to shower before then, after which I'm sure you'll feel the effects of having worked so much in such little time, you'll probably want to rest, which you should have done earlier. And before you bring up the Dursleys again, keep in mind it's been a year since you've done chores like this, your body isn't adjusted like it once was."

Harry frowned in thought at that, though Severus could still see the slightest gleam of rebellion in the boy's eyes.

"Also think about how the neighbors might feel about you working as you are. I did say pull the weeds around the house, but I didn't say all of them, or that it all had to be done today. Now I look like the slavedriver forcing my young child to work himself to death. And now I'll have to find more things for you to do tomorrow, perhaps ones that are more time-consuming."

"Oh," Harry muttered, eloquent as ever.

"Indeed," Severus said. "I could always have you repaint the house. A taupe would be a nice change, don't you think? Besides, I'd rather you enjoy your free time than sleep through it."

"So, can I stop for the day then?" Harry asked with a smile.

"You're the one who decided to do everything and more in one morning," Severus smirked as Harry's smile fell into a pout. "Might as well as finish what you started."

"But you were just saying . . ."

"I know. Consider this a reason to obey my words the first time."

Harry huffed but turned back around to pull the rest of the weeds from the garden.

The doorbell echoes around the house, and Severus groaned before walking around the building. A man stood at his door patiently, a colorful flyer in his hand.

"May I help you?" Severus asked.

"Good day, sir," the man said cheerily, waving to Severus and stepping toward the man. "You must be Mr. Severus Snape."

"Who's asking?" Severus couldn't help but say.

"Let me introduce myself," the man went on, "I am Peter Putkin, I own the library down the road. Your son seems to be a very avid reader, and I didn't get a chance to yesterday, but I wanted to give him this flyer. There's a boy's reading group starting up, started by two local boys here, actually. They're about Harry's age, and they love to read and with help from their parents and myself, well, they started a book club."

Severus accepted the flyer and looked it over. The Dive into Adventure book club for ages eleven to fourteen, boys and girls included, starting July first and the first book they were going to read first was The House with a Clock in its Walls by John Bellairs. Severus quirked a brow at that.

"I thought Harry might be interested with how much he loves to visit the library, and of course, it'd give him a chance to meet some of the kids around here."

"A book club?" Harry asked, coming around the house. He snatched the flyer from Severus to read it over. "Cool! I haven't even read that book yet, either. Dad, could I?"

"Unfortunately," Severus said, taking the flyer back. "Harry is grounded until further notice." Severus did not miss the way Harry's cheeks burned at that. "However, I'll gladly hold on to this. Perhaps he'll manage to unground himself by July first. Miracles do happen."

Harry glared up at his father while Peter smiled.

"I hope so," Peter said. "Be good, Harry. I know a few kids who would love to have you at the club."

Peter strolled off, and Severus folded the flyer and tucked it into an inner robe pocket. He leveled Harry with a glare of his own, and asked, "Did you finish the weeds in that row?"

"I heard the librarian and wanted to see what he was doing here."

"Is that a no?"

"Yes, it's a no. You can't ground me from the library forever."

"Not forever. Just until you learn how to tell time. Go finish up, then wash up, as we've discussed."

Harry huffed, but went back around the house to finish weeding the row he had started.

Severus went back inside, working on a quick chicken salad for himself and Harry. He heard Harry come in through the back door and called out a reminder to take his shoes off. While the shower was running, Severus took his time to make a macaroni side dish, knowing how much Harry liked them. When he was done, he called for Harry to join him at the table. When Harry didn't show after a couple minutes, he made his way toward the boy's bedroom, knocking once before opening the door.

Harry was passed out lying across his bed, dressed in fresh clothes and his hair still dripping. Severus smiled and casted a drying charm on Harry's hair. He unfolded a light blanket at the end of the boy's bed and laid it over him, then silently left the room.

About an hour later, Harry emerged from his room and found Severus working in his lab, an open space that opened through his closet. Severus was busy working on restocking his depleting inventory while a few potions simmered at the table he had set up. He sent Harry to the kitchen to eat his lunch that he had missed. After eating his fill of the chicken salad and macaroni, Harry began working on his Transfiguration homework.

Severus checked on him later.

"How are you doing?"

"I'm almost done with Transfiguration," Harry said.

"Good," Severus said, "I shall review it when you're finished. Are you feeling better?"

"Yes. Do I still have to scrub cauldrons later?"

"I think I'll have you reorganize my ingredients supply closet. That should be less intensive. You'll scrub cauldrons tomorrow at the time I write down for you."

"Okay."

"I am heading to town for groceries. Want to take a break and come with me?"

"No thanks, Dad," Harry replied with a shake of his head. "I want to finish this."

"Err . . . fish and chips?"

"Small bag of chips," Severus said as he wrote on his list, "large bag of peas. Got it. Anything else?"

"No." Harry rolled his eyes.

"Keep your eyes in place, you'll see better. You know the rules. Stay in the house. Do not open the door for anyone while I'm gone."

"Even Freddy?"

"Especially that insufferable muggle. I'll be back shortly."

Severus walked down to the small greengrocer near a petite, yellow café building. He picked out a variety of vegetables and fruits, making sure to add in extra strawberries as Harry seemed to have a particular fondness for them. When he had gathered what he needed, he found a secluded spot between two buildings, then shrunk his bags with a charm to keep everything fresh. He moved on to the meat market that was located a bit deeper into town. He didn't mind the walk, as it gave him a chance to see familiar faces, and unfamiliar faces. He kept an eye out for any suspicious characters that could have stalked Harry last night. No one gave him any strange vibes, but that didn't make him feel any better.

Finally, he had all the groceries he needed for the next week and then some, and he made his way home, slowly, so to enjoy the warmth of the sun against his back. He offered the small "good days'" to anyone who greeted him first.

Glad to see his new house still standing, Severus entered, pulled everything out of his pockets, returned them to their original state and size, and set them on the counters.

"Harry, come help put these groceries away," Severus called.

He was met with silence, then a loud crash.

Severus paused, registering where the sound had come from, then pushed off the counter and ran to his lab, crossing through his bedroom and stopping short in the entryway. The room he had spent the last couple of weeks transfiguring into a lab space was trashed. Vials and cauldrons were tossed about the room, and glass sprinkled the floor from the broken ones. The shelves of ingredients around the room were all collapsed, and several containers had opened, and ingredients had mixed on the floor, and a few areas were creating a noxious fume that visibly steamed upward. The three potions that had been simmering for the day had boiled over and burned, partially melting the rims of his cauldrons. And on that same table, Harry was reaching for the ceiling with a shell-shocked face.

"I can explain," Harry said. He jumped off the table and held up his hands in surrender.

"Please do," Severus growled under his breath as he took a slow step toward Harry, his fists flexing and clenching at his side.

Harry backed up a step as he started talking a mile a minute.

"Wait," Harry started, "there was a house elf here and he was saying all this crazy stuff about me not going back to Hogwarts because it was dangerous or whatever and then he kept hurting himself and saying how bad he was for disobeying his master, but he really wanted to keep me safe but I told him I have to go—and he's actually the reason my friends haven't been writing. He's been stealing all my letters so I would think they didn't like me or whatever. I got them from him but then he said maybe getting me in trouble would ground me from Hogwarts. I tried to stop him but he kept running away and breaking more things. Stop!"

Harry had kept backing away as Severus walked toward him with slow, purposeful steps. Despite the anger he was feeling and the impulse to just take some of his frustration out on Harry for simply being in the room, Severus had been listening, and he finally stopped tormenting his son and paused in front of him, tilting his head curiously. It was certainly a first he had heard of a house elf destroying another wizard's property, but the guilt and self-punishment Harry had described was so accurate to what a house elf would do for disobeying their master, and he knew he had never told Harry about that aspect of house elves.

"I swear I didn't do any of this," Harry said, breathing an audible sigh of relief when Severus stopped advancing on him. "He said his name was Dobby. He wouldn't tell me where he was from or why he was doing this, just that I couldn't go back to Hogwarts."

I've heard that name somewhere before, Severus thought, a frown forming on his face. He crossed his arms, drumming his fingers against himself for a moment as he tried to remember where he may have encountered that name.

"I'm telling the truth," Harry said. "I promise."

"Please go put the groceries away," Severus said, pointing out the door.

Harry hesitated, eyeing the distance between the door and Severus.

"Now," Severus demanded, "I need to think."

Harry scooted out as quickly as he could. Severus sighed and rubbed his hands down his face. He moved around the room and vanished the mess in his ruined cauldrons, which he flew over to the sinks for a good cleaning before they were disposed of. He could have Harry scrub those tomorrow. He flicked his wand at a broom which sprung to life and cleaned up the glass on the floor while he eyed the ingredients all over the floor.

With careful precision, he managed to separate certain piles of powders and herbs and managed to rebottle many of his ingredients. The liquid forms had to be disposed of, and that unfortunately included his last jar of dragon's blood. He also had to get rid of the easily contaminable ingredients that had fallen on the floor such as his frog livers and hen yolks. It was a lot of money down the drain, and a day's work of potions ruined. He had been hoping to restock on his basic healing salves for cuts and scrapes, pepper ups, and a fever reducer, common over the counter potions that disappeared like candy on Halloween.

The rest of the mess was cleared away with a swish of his wand, and there was still damage to fix, it would do for now.

Frustrated, Severus took a few calming breaths. Harry's story had a lot of detail to have been made up on the spot, and Harry really had no reason to act out in this fashion. If a house elf had been here, and to warn Harry of a potential danger at Hogwarts, that could mean someone was planning, and potentially initiating a scheme that he would have to watch out for. The elf might be the clue as to who was up to something.

He had an idea to get a good look at the elf, but he would need Harry's permission first.

Walking out of his lab and to the kitchen, he found Harry sitting at the table, fiddling with an orange that he was still tearing peel pieces off of. Harry spared him a worried glance as he entered.

"I believe you, Harry," Severus said. He pulled out a chair across from where Harry was sitting. "But I need you help."

"Yes, sir. With what?"

"If it is okay with you, I'd like to see your memories of what transpired today; to make sure there truly was nothing malicious and to potentially identify who this house elf may have belonged to."

"How would you see my memories?" Harry asked.

"By entering your mind through Legilimency," Severus said. "It will allow me to see what happened while I was gone, and I may be able to find something about the elf you may have missed. It won't hurt, but it might feel weird."

"Okay. Do I need to do anything?"

"All you have to do is think about what happened, which will bring the memories to the front of your mind, making it easier for me to find them." Severus leaned forward slightly. "And look at me."

When Harry's eyes met Severus's, he gently prodded into Harry's mind, being as careful as he could so he didn't hurt Harry in the process. Harry had no walls around his mind, no resistance to his intrusion, so it was very easy to slip right into a memory and the elf immediately came into view. Severus settled himself into the memory, watching from a corner of Harry's bedroom.

"How did you get here?" Harry asked, turning in his chair at his desk. He set his quill down. "Who are you?"

"So long has Dobby wanted to meet you, sir," the house elf said. "Such an honor it is."

"Err, right," said Harry, who looked rather confused about the elf. "Not to be rude or anything—I mean, it's very nice to meet you and all—but is there any particular reason you're here?"

"Dobby has come to tell you, sir ... it is difficult, sir ... Dobby wonders where to begin . . . ."

"Sit down," Harry said, pointing at his bed.

Not to Severus's surprise, the elf burst into loud tears.

"S-sit down!" he wailed. "Never ... never ever. . . "

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered, "I didn't mean to offend you or anything, I was just . . ."

"Offend Dobby!" choked the elf. "Dobby has never been asked to sit down by a wizard—like an equal!"

Harry looked beside himself as he tried to shush the elf as he ushered Dobby onto the bed where he sat hiccoughing. While the elf collected himself, Severus made a mental note to strengthen the wards around his house.

"You can't have met many decent wizards," Harry said.

Dobby shook his head. Then, without warning, he leapt up, ran for the window seat and started banging his head furiously on the window, shouting, "Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!"

Severus eyes the elf's tattered clothes and searched for any identifying marks. A small fancy M was embroidered in the back of the elf's tattered sheet-turned-into-shirt. Severus knew that trademark anywhere and he narrowed his eyes at the elf.

"Don't - what are you doing." Harry shouted, jumping up and trying to catch the elf.

"Dobby had to punish himself, sir," said the elf, who had gone slightly cross-eyed. "Dobby almost spoke ill of his family, sir . . ."

"Your family."

"The wizard family Dobby serves, sir. Dobby is a house elf - bound to serve one house and one family forever."

"That sounds awful. Who do you serve?"

"Dobby must not say. He must not speak badly of his family, even when they treat Dobby do horribly."

"If it's that bad, why don't you just leave then?"

"A house elf must be set free, sir, and the family will never set Dobby free."

"Oh. That's too bad. But you're here now, maybe you can just not go back."

"Dobby cannot stay. Dobby must keep the great Harry Potter from going back to Hogwarts. It is too dangerous for Harry Potter. He must stay home."

"I don't think that's possible. Why is it dangerous?"

The elf whimpered, then went back to banging his head on the window.

"Hey, stop it!" Harry said.

"Dobby has tried to stop Harry Potter from going back. He even took all Harry Potter's letters from his friends, so he'd think he'd have none."

The elf held up several envelopes, and Harry gasped, then snatched them away.

"You were stopping my letters? Why?"

"Dobby did it for the best. Dobby just wants Harry Potter to be safe."

"You wouldn't have been the one following me yesterday, were you?"

Severus raised a brow at that, a small smile growing on his lips at Harry's ability to connect the dots. He eyed the elf again as it nodded its ugly head.

"How is any of that helping me? You know my dad is a professor at Hogwarts. What is he supposed to do if I have to stay here?"

"Harry Potter can be grounded." Dobby's eyes brightened.

Dobby jumped off the window seat and he ran for the lab. Harry ran after him, shouting, "No! Stop! You can't be in there."

Severus followed slowly, wincing at the sound of glass breaking. He paused in the entryway, watching Harry trying to catch the elf while attempting to salvage everything the elf was throwing. Dobby turned the heat up on all three cauldrons, and while Harry tried turning them down right after, the sensitive potions were quick to react to the heat change and boiled over. Harry was lucky to have avoided skin burns.

The elf jumped on the table and threw empty cauldrons around the room, smashing them on the floor.

"How long do you think Dad would ground me for?" Harry asked, jumping on the table and reaching for the elf. "Especially for something I didn't do?"

The elf threw another cauldron then jumped out of Harry's grasp. Dobby picked up another cauldron.

"Harry," Severus heard his own voice say, "come help put these groceries away."

Harry and Dobby froze, shared a look, then Dobby threw the cauldron in the air and disappeared with a loud crack. Harry tried to catch the cauldron, but it struck the ground with a loud crash.

Severus withdrew from Harry's mind at that, noting Harry's dazed look before the child shook himself slightly and looked at Severus curiously.

"That was weird," Harry said.

"But very helpful," Severus said. "Thank you for allowing me to view that memory."

"Do you know who's elf it was?" Harry asked.

"No," Severus said a bit too quickly. He knew of Harry's relationship with Draco Malfoy at school and he did not want to bring any more feud between them, especially when he did not have all the details as to why the elf thought Harry was in danger. He would have to do some investigating himself.

"Could anyone do that?" Harry asked. "Read my mind?"

"It's not exactly reading the mind," Severus corrected. "It's a complicated magic, as the brain is a complicated source, and it takes years of training to master Legilimency, and few have the patience for it, so there is no need to worry about anyone using it against you. However, now that you know how it feels, you will know when someone might be using it on you, and my use of it was very gentle on you, compared to someone who might mean you harm."

"You've done that before," Harry said. "After Fudge tricked me into not signing the guardianship papers that one day. You used it."

"I did," Severus agreed. "You were rather hysterical and refusing to tell me what happened."

"Would you use it on me like that again?"

"No, not without your permission." Severus reached across the table and laid his hand over Harry's. "I shouldn't have invaded your mind without your permission, but I felt that if I had not, we wouldn't be where we are today, understand? Not that that excuses my actions. I will strive to always ask for your permission if and when it might warrant this kind of magic. Like today."

"Okay," Harry said in a soft voice. He smiled. "Thanks for listening to me and not going mental."

"Come here," Severus said, waving him over.

Harry moved around the table and stood in front of Severus, who pulled him closer and into a strong hug.

"Thank you for being honest," Severus said. "And I will do my best to always listen to you first. Clearly, I never know what trouble might follow you."

"Obviously," Harry smiled, sounding a lot like Severus in that moment.

Severus snorted.

"Don't you have letters to read?"

"I do!" Harry exclaimed, running for his room.

Severus sighed as he rested his head in his hand, thinking over his options. He needed a way to get information from Lucius Malfoy without coming off suspicious. Why would Hogwarts be any more dangerous than it already was? Severus knew he would have to investigate sooner rather than later for Harry's safety. If Hogwarts truly was dangerous, Harry would not be going back until it was.

Chapter Text

Severus used the ornate door knocker to loudly announce his arrival before stepping back and waiting, trying hard not to laugh at the rather un-majestic noises of the peacocks roaming the front lawn. The door was opened by a house elf, not the one Severus was looking for, but he followed the creature inside the massive foyer where he slipped out of his cloak, then allowed himself to bed led to an even larger lounge where he was asked to wait.

Severus stood, despite the many seating options available to him, and he clasped his hands behind his back. He did not appreciate ostentatious displays of wealth—it seemed to him like a waste of money better spent elsewhere, such as tutoring that spoiled brat that lived in the house. Besides, it reminded him of what he didn't, and never would, have in his own life.

"Good evening, my old friend," Lucius greeted, a tall, long-haired blonde dressed in white robes. A silver cane with an engraved snake head at the top was held loosely in his grasp as he sauntered into the room. "I take it you received my letter."

"Your owl delivered in a timely manner," Severus said. "I came as quickly as I could."

Which was not true. He had received Lucius's letter a couple weeks ago and had originally had no intentions of ever replying. But now that he had an excuse to get into the mansion and find that house elf that invaded his property, he took advantage of it.

"Then you understand my outrage about my son placed lower than a muggleborn in his studies," Lucius said furiously. "That is unacceptable."

"Indeed," Severus said nonchalantly. "His marks reflect on Slytherin House, and I advise that he keeps his grades up. I have put together a summer assignment for him that I expect completed and owled to me no later than August thirty-first. It will not bring his grade up but it will get him ahead of his classmates for this upcoming year. I assure you, the assignment I have in mind will address what we will be learning the first semester of school. He should breeze right through the class after completing this for me."

"Perfect," Lucius smiled. "You know I only want the best for him."

"Let me bring Draco down," Lucius said, turning and stepping out of the room for a minute. "Help yourself to anything you please, tea, biscuits . . ." Lucius threw over his shoulder as he stepped out the door.

Severus heard Lucius yell for a house elf to collect Draco and bring him down the stairs. Severus quickly called out himself.

"Dobby, bring me tea," he said.

After a few seconds, a house elf in a ratty, white pillow case appeared at his side holding up the tea items. Severus took his time to make his tea just right, forcing the poor elf to stick around and hold the tray up for the man.

"So," Severus began, "you're Dobby. The one who thought he could invade my house, breach my wards, and attack my son."

Dobby swallowed audibly, then bravely said, "Dobby did not attack Harry Potter sir. Dobby help Harry Potter sir."

"By trying to get him in trouble with me? I can assure you, you did more harm than good, especially to my supplies. I should make you work for me to pay off every little thing you broke or destroyed, but I really don't want you around my lab or my ingredient supply. Luckily for you, what I really want to know is why you felt the need to come to my house to warn Harry to stay away from Hogwarts."

"Dobby must not say, sir." Dobby said. "Master would be most displeased."

"I'm displeased," Severus growled.

Dobby winced, his trembling hands shaking the tray.

"Dobby is sorry, sir. Dobby shall punish himself most severely."

"No. Tell me what you were doing at my house. Why is Hogwarts dangerous?"

"Master has a plan I is not to be sharing. A plan for the new school year." Dobby's lips quivered and his ears dropped against the back of his head. "Dobby must burn his hands for disobeying Master's orders."

"I need more information than that. Spill it, elf, before I decide elf organs would make a fine replacement ingredient for my stock."

"Dobby knows . . ."

The door to the lounge opened, and Dobby fell silent as Lucius paraded Draco into the room. Severus picked up his cup of tea and waved the elf off, dismissing him. Dobby bowed deeply with a distraught look before he vanished with a snap. Severus took a sip, hiding his disgust when he realized he had added too much sugar distractedly while interrogating the elf.

"Draco," Lucius said. "Severus has work for you to help improve your skills in potions."

Draco stepped forward and stared up at Severus expectantly, like a trained soldier in front of his commanding sergeant.

"Indeed," Severus said, setting his tea down on a low, glass coffee table. He reached into his robe and pulled out a roll of parchment. "This is a list of ingredients that we will be working on in your second year. Study them, arrange them in four separate groups according to the potion the ingredients would make, and explain why each group's ingredients would react badly to ingredients in a different group. Trust me, these are very specific ingredients that only work in very specific potions. You will find what you need in this year's reading assignments in Magical Drafts and Potions, chapters nine through thirteen."

"Yes, sir," Draco said, accepting the parchment. "Thank you, sir."

"As I informed your father, I will expect this owled to me no later than August thirty-first. Failure to do so will result in an extra homework assignment for you when you begin school."

"Yes, sir," Draco said again, nodding is head. "I will complete this assignment as soon as I can."

"Begin immediately, Draco," Lucius told him. "Back to your study, with you."

Draco bowed slightly than quickly stepped out of the room.

"I appreciate you keeping Draco up to his pureblood standards. I cannot tolerate grades below a mudblood's."

"Miss Granger is a sharp one, unfortunately," Severus said. "A nuisance in my classroom with her know-it-all attitude."

"They think they're all superior to generations of pure wizardry magic," Lucius sneered.

Severus forced another sip of his tea, refusing comment on the last statement. He often wondered if Lucius forgot that he was a halfblood.

So, you are up to something, Severus thought to himself as he eyed Lucius over the rim of his cup. He would have to keep an eye on Lucius's movements and keep the man a good distance from Harry in case those plans involved the Boy-Who-Lived. He wouldn't dig for more information now, as that would raise too much suspicion, but at least he was in the know now.

"Well, it has been splendid catching up with you," Severus said, "but I should be on my way. I enjoy my summer free of students after all."

"Of course. Enjoy it while it lasts, Severus."

With that, Severus returned to his house. He found Harry in the same place he had left him. He ignored the child's incessant attempts to find out where he had gone and instead focused on making dinner, much to Harry's annoyance. Harry was just happy to be on his last day of his punishment, which he succeeded in completing without incident the last couple days, even with the chaotic start. Perhaps he had managed to teach the importance of time management through all of this. Severus knew he would test the boy on that at some point in the future. Far future. For now, his child was staying in his sight.

A few weeks passed, and in that time, Severus had been working on building his own greenhouse so he could keep his garden safe and put in a timed watering system and a weed killer spell for when he left to go back to Hogwarts. Most of the wooden structure was built, and the garden was completely planted with an array of spices, herbs, and flowering plants that he protected with a shielding spell for now until he was complete with the greenhouse.

The greenhouse only took up about one-third of his yard, leaving plenty of room for Harry to still play or hang out with friends if he wanted to invite any over. The greenhouse was a barn style, and he planned to use corrugated metal roofing for the side walls and acrylic sheets for the rest of the roofing and building. The acrylic had cost him a hefty amount, but it should withstand the test of time, and he knew he could install them just as well as a professional could without spending an extra pound more. First, he had to drill the side panels in before he started framing.

He picked up a metal panel and used a spell to hold it in place where he wanted it, then drilled in the inch long hex-head screw with his power drill. He paused to accio another screw to his hand, and moved down the panel to screw that one in.

The back door to the house opened and Harry ran out and over to him.

"Hey, Dad," he said in his usual tone that indicated he wanted something from Severus. "I'm back from the book club. Working on the greenhouse again?"

"Obviously," Severus said, continuing to screw in the metal panel.

"I was wondering . . ." Harry said slowly, "do you know how to drive?"

"How to what?" Severus asked sharply. He had not been expecting that question.

"You know, drive," Harry continued. "In a car. To go far places."

"I know what driving is, thank you. Pick up a panel and hold it in place for me."

Harry quickly did as he was told, kneeling in the grass so he was more at height with where he needed to hold the metal piece against the bottom half of the greenhouse frame. Severus knew how much Harry enjoyed helping with various tasks such as assisting in building the greenhouse, and he also handed Severus another screw when he finished drilling one in.

"Well, do you know how to?" Harry asked.

"Why on earth would I need to know how to drive when I can just as easily apparate or floo somewhere?"

"Sooooo . . . no?'

"No," Severus affirmed while motioning to the next metal panel lying in the grass. Harry picked it up and held the large piece in place, waiting until one side was screwed in, and he could free one hand from its job.

"Would you learn how?"

"Absolutely not. What is this about?"

"Well, a friend at the book club said we could read the next chapter together sometime and she invited me over to her house and I thought . . ."

"She?" Severus interrupted, smirking at Harry.

"Her name is Giovanna," Harry said. He frowned at his father. "Don't look at me like that, she's just a friend! She invited me over, but I didn't know how I'd be able to get to her place since she lives outside of the town on a farm. I thought you might know how to drive, but I guess I could take a bus or something."

"What's wrong with apparition?" Severus said.

"How am I supposed to explain that I just popped up out of nowhere? Besides, doing that makes me nauseous."

"You know, you could always invite her here."

"Really?"

"There would be rules for you two to follow, and your door stays open, or you work at the table, but I do not see the harm in her coming over."

"Sheesh, what do you think we would do, Dad? We're just friends."

"If you say so. Your door stays open."

Harry frowned at Severus, but his father ignored him in favor of finishing the side paneling of the house. As they finished the last piece, the doorbell rang through the house, and Severus set the drill down on his outdoor workbench and cast a quick cleansing charm on his dirt-stained jeans and hands before frowning at Harry's similar look.

"Go wash up," he told Harry.

"Why can't you do what you just did to me?" Harry complained.

"Because I don't want to," Severus shot back. "Go wash your hands and put clean jeans on. We clearly have company."

A woman smoking a cigarette through a theatre length jade and silver cigarette holder, turned and smiled at Severus.

"Severus, darling," she said. "How good to see you."

Severus froze. Every muscle in his body tightened and forgot how to loosen back up. Words caught in his throat, and if he ever thought about breaking his abstinence from alcohol, he would think this instance would be a suitable reason to do so. The woman—a pale, salt-and-pepper haired, slim, elegantly dressed in mahogany robes woman, was Eileen Snape. Severus was speechless.

He had never really imagined what had become of Eileen when she had stormed out on him after the death of Tobias Snape all those years ago. And he certainly never imagined he would ever see her again, which was a dream he was quite content to keep. His mouth grew dry, and his heart began thundering blood loudly through his ears, but he narrowed his eyes at her, ignoring the ice that hit his stomach in that moment.

"Well," Eileen huffed in amusement, "I knew you were never courtly, but I'm sure you have the good grace to give a proper greeting back to your dear mother."

Eileen took a puff of her cigarette as she eyed Severus expectantly.

"How the hell did you find me?" Severus snapped. "What on earth are you even doing here?"

Eileen made a noise that sounded like disapproval, then shrugged and said, "It'll do."

Barging past her son, Eileen made her way into the house with an air of superiority, sweeping around to give each aspect of the room a critical eye as she explained her presence.

"Word gets around," she said.

"You can't just walk into my house," Severus said, standing by the open door as if she might walk back out at his words. "I did not invite you in."

Eileen ignored him however.

"I heard from a good friend that a new face had moved into town. Imagine my surprise when I hear it is my own son, of all blessed things. I had to see it for myself—you, alive." Eileen smiled at him for a moment, holding an arm out toward him as if longing to embrace, then pulled her arm back toward herself as she said, "and with the next Prince heir, I've been told. I'd like to meet my grandson. Where is he? Here, boy!" Eileen called out, looking around the small space. "Come meet your nanny."

"You live in Ostbridge?" Severus asked, shutting his door and following after the crazy woman. Maybe she had gone mad and he could call some aurors to take her away to an asylum. That would be a lovely place to keep her.

"Oh, drop the nonsensical questions, Severus, of course, I do. Not far outside the town. In Prince Manor."

Severus blinked. He had forgotten where Prince Manor was located, and it was more than just outside the town of Ostbridge. Like most pureblood establishments back in the olden days, they kept their distance from muggles. Prince Manor was at least twenty-five miles outside of the town's boundary lines. After the rocky history Eileen had had with her family, he was surprised Eileen would ever go back to the manor at all.

"I didn't realize you went back there," Severus said, unsure of what else to say. His mind stayed to Harry, and he hoped the child took extra time to clean himself up after working outside.

"Father died," Eileen said rather uneventfully, "Mother was gravely ill with a wizarding disease—you wouldn't know much about it; it's a pureblood thing. Its onset happens in the golden years of life, and it deteriorates the magical core and mind of a witch or wizard so quickly." Eileen studied Severus's fireplace intently as she spoke. "Needless to say, Mother didn't have long. And there I was to swoop in and save the day. I took care of her till her dying breath, and that was no easy task when she could no longer walk. She was grateful enough to change her will and claim me the beneficiary." Eileen snorted, dragging a finger along the mantel of the fireplace ad sneering at the dust. "It was the least she could do for all the trouble I went through for her."

Harry slowly stepped out of his bathroom with clean jean shorts on, rubbing his face dry with a towel as he curiously glanced out into the living room at the woman in their house.

Severus quickly and wordlessly struck Harry with a face and hair altering spell that would also conceal his scar by a quick point of his finger. He stepped around his mother as she turned in Harry's direction at Severus's quick gesture. Severus stood behind Harry, placing his hands on the boy's shoulder.

"This is Evans," Severus said quickly, tightening his hold on Harry's shoulder when the boy looked up at him. He met Harry's eyes and said, "Evans Alvaro Snape."

Harry winced slightly at Severus's squeeze of his shoulders but got the hint. He didn't realize it yet, but his hair had turned an auburn color, his eyes were brown, and his nose hooked just the slightest. The scar was gone, and he had no resemblance of Harry Potter anymore. There was no way Severus was letting Eileen Prince know he had taken in Harry Potter. He knew she had never supported the dark side, but one could never be too careful. After all, he had no clue who she might have made connections with as head of Prince Manor. He would explain it all later to Harry, but right now, he only hoped the boy could play along.

"I'm Evans. It's nice to meet you, ma'am." Harry held out a hand to Eileen.

"Someone with manners at last," Eileen said, accepting his hand and giving it a single shake then pulled her hand away. "And named after your great grandfather on my side, I see. How touching. My name is Eileen Moira Prince. I am your grandmother."

It was not lost on Severus that Eileen dropped "Snape" from her name.

"Woah, really?" Harry exclaimed, looking back and forth between Severus is Eileen.

"I know my elegance can be overwhelming," Eileen said, taking another draw from her cigarette holder. "How old are you, boy?"

"I'm almost twelve," Harry said.

"Almost twelve," Eileen repeated. "Practically an adult. I've missed so much of your lives, both of you. But we shall make up for it immediately. Come, boys, our chariot awaits."

"What are you talking about?" Severus said. She really had gone bonkers in all her alone time. Had she forgotten their history? She could not seriously expect to strut back into his life and be welcomed in with open arms.

"I'm inviting you and your son to Prince Manor," Eileen explained. "We have so much to catch up on, and I'd rather not do it in this . . . quaint house."

Severus bit his tongue, a spark of anger flickering in his chest. How dare this estranged woman show up in his life—come back into his life, and then dare try to make amends as if the last thirteen years since she left him to rot at Spinner's End had never lapsed, as if the nineteen years she neglected him, belittled him, and toyed with him had never occurred. She acted like they were a family, a completely normal, functional family. Well, that was not happening.

"We're not leaving," Severus said, folding his arms. "Whatever you wish to talk about, you may do so here. Now. And then you will leave."

Harry looked up at Severus wide-eyed, then back at Eileen with a curious look.

"This isn't just a little tea party, Severus," Eileen said. "I was not the only beneficiary to the Prince inheritance, you know."

No, he did not know. Severus paused at that. If she was implying that there was financial gain to going with her to Prince Manor, he might consider the trip. Might was a strong word though.

"I would prefer to show you," Eileen said. "I was never good with the whole legal shenanigans, and I had no idea where you were all these years. I hardly thought you'd stay at that godforsaken rattrap. So I waited for a sign. And here it is. You came to me. This was destiny. We were meant to fix our tenuous relationship."

"I don't know about that," Severus said. "If I benefit in any way from a will or inheritance, it can be dealt with in a court of law at the Auror department just as easily as you say you could do so at Prince Manor."

With another puff of her cigarette that she then put out against the fireplace, she stepped over to Severus until they were face to face. Harry stepped back slightly and out from between the two adults. Eileen was notably shorter than Severus, but not by very much. They might as well be eye to eye. Eileen hmphed after a long staring contest.

"You were always a stubborn one," Eileen said. "I'll make you a deal. Humor me, and you and Evans will come see Prince Manor. We'll talk a bit, have lunch, go over what is rightfully yours, then you're free to go as you please. Or we can settle it with the Auror department where lawyers can rip into it and charge you the whole damn fortune just for looking at it for you. The choice is yours."

Severus sighed at that. Eileen had a point as far as taking it up in court went. He took a deep breath, pushing down emotions he thought he lost years ago that threatened to resurface. He closed his eyes and rubbed at his temples. There was nothing Eileen could do to him now. He was an adult with a life of his own and a child to care for. She couldn't possibly find a way to hurt him as she had done repeatedly in his past. They were done with that. He could handle one day with her as civilized people discussing a will. Any attempts at reconciliation would be shut down fast.

"You have until this evening," Severus said. "Evans and I leave by then. And then you will leave us alone."

"Then away we go," Eileen said, leading the way out of the bungalow. "We must not waste a moment. This is highly valued time on our hands."

"Evans," Severus said, catching Harry before he could eagerly follow Eileen out to whatever chariot awaited them. He gave the boy a stern look as he said through gritted teeth, "do not leave my side. Do not touch anything at the manor. And do not indulge her."

Harry swallowed and nodded. Severus could see the millions of questions swimming around in Harry's brown eyes, and he hoped the boy had enough room reading abilities to know now was not the time to ask them. Harry slowly licked his lips and then headed out the door when Eileen called to them again.

Severus sighed and rubbed his temples, applying hard pressure in hopes this was all a nightmare he could wake himself up from.

Chapter Text

"Dad, you should see this!" Harry's voice called from outside.

Severus rubbed his temples for a few seconds longer, coming to terms with the fact that this was not a dream, and his mother had indeed paid his humble home a visit and demanded his presence at Prince Manor for a will that may or may not exist. He sighed and headed for the door, locking it behind him with the muggle key and his wand, as a precaution of course. He turned and blinked. Eileen had not been joking when she said chariot.

At the end of his driveway was a large, stunning carriage donned in greens, blues, and yellows, with a peacock symbol engraved on the side. The seats were leather, and there was just enough room for three people, and there was a house elf seated on the elevated perch seat holding reins and a long whip. Harnessed to the carriage were two large white winged horses. The two horses held their heads high, flicking their braided manes and tails around patiently. One horse wore a neck piece with gold trim around his neck while the other wore a similar one with silver. If Severus didn't know better, he'd say those horses were smiling.

"Do you see this, Dad?" Harry asked excitedly, standing near the large horses. "I've never seen a pegasus before."

"They are Gorgobreds," Eileen said, walking around the carriage to stand next to Harry. "The closest living relative to the Pegasus, even before the Abraxans. Prince Manor boasts the purest selection of Gorgobreds in the world; these are high quality horses."

"They're beautiful," Harry said, holding out a flat hand for one of them to sniff. The left horse with the gold trim around his neck gave his hand a gentle lick.

"This one is Oppilamani," Eileen said, giving the gold trim horse a neck rub. "Three-time champion of The High Skies Gold Cup. My personal favorite, but don't tell the others that."

Eileen winked at Harry, who smiled up at her as he reached out to scratch Oppilamani's neck. The horse snorted and held his head up proudly. The other horse in silver gently bit and tugged on Eileen's hair, then gave a disgruntled whinny as he shook his head at her.

"Oh, you are my favorite as well, Garveet," Eileen said, cooing at the horse as she placed her hands on each cheek and kissed his head. The horse nickered at her, happily holding his head up as well.

"I hope you have them disillusioned," Severus said as he walked down the pathway to the carriage.

"Of course," Eileen said with a slight eye roll. "Can't go gallivanting around with winged horses in a muggle town, now, can we?"

"What do they look like to muggles?" Harry asked.

"Oh you know," Eileen waved off the question, "plain old looking horses. Let's get going. We've much to do. In the chariot, both of you."

While Eileen walked to the other side of the carriage, Harry tapped Severus's arm and whispered up to his father.

"What about my scar? I'm sure she'll recognize it if she saw it."

"That's all taken care of," Severus whispered back. "You look nothing like yourself right now."

"Oh." Harry felt his face and hair. "When did you do that? What do I look like?"

"No time for that," Severus said. "Get in the carriage."

Harry's frown melted into a smile and he happily jumped up in the carriage. Severus sat next to Harry, taking the end seat so Harry would have to sit between himself and Eileen. He knew most magical carriages were spelled with anti-fall spells that kept everyone in the safety of the containment, but he wasn't taking any chances, especially with how wildly excited Harry seemed to be.

"Outis," Eileen said as she settled herself on the other end next to Harry. "Prince Manor."

"Yes, Mistress," the house elf, Outis, said obediently. He was a small creature, smaller than Dobby, with downcast eyes and large hands, and he wore a green, ratty pillowcase.

He tightened his hold on the reins and lashed out the whip above the horses, sending magical sparks raining down on the horses. The two began trotting away pridefully from Severus's bungalow and down the muggle road. A few neighbors peeked out of their windows in awe or waved from their front porch at Severus and Harry. Severus ignored most of them, while Harry gladly waved back to everyone.

"Once we get to the manor, I'll have Portia make lunch. She is quite gifted in the kitchen for a house elf. Meanwhile, we have so much to catch up on."

"I think not," Severus said bitterly, looking everywhere else but at Eileen.

Eileen ignored him and turned her attention on Harry.

"What about you, Evans? Are you in school? I assume you must go to Hogwarts."

"Yes, ma'am," Harry answered.

"Slytherin, I would think," Eileen smirked.

"No, actually, I'm in Gryffindor."

"Oh." There was the slightest curl of distaste on Eileen's lips.

"But the hat wanted to put me in Slytherin. It said I would do well and Slytherin would help me on my way to greatness or something like that."

"Really?" Eileen asked, and even Severus glanced down at Harry at that remark. "Why did it put you in Gryffindor then?"

Harry looked up at Severus, and his cheeks heated for a moment before he shrugged and said, "It also said I'd do great in Gryffindor, and maybe even better, so it put me there."

Severus could hear the lie before Harry had even opened his mouth, but he said nothing as he turned his attention back to the road, muggle houses slowly disappearing as they came across rolling hills of countryside. He could always ask Harry why the sorting hat really put him in Gryffindor instead of Slytherin at a later time. It would explain why Harry's sorting had taken so long. He heard Eileen tsk lightly.

"Well," she said, "it wouldn't be the first time one of Prince heritage strayed from Slytherin house. I think we're far enough away from the muggles now. Oppilamani—up!"

Oppilamani reared with an excited squeal, Garveet following his lead, and they began flapping their wings. Outis gave a surprised yelp at the sudden change in pace and loosened the reins slightly, pulling a lever that detached the two horses from each other, giving them room to flap their wings.

The horses raced down the country road at high speeds, and the wind blew Severus's hair into his face, and he agitatedly brushed it aside and held it in place. Harry cheered in delight.

Finally, with three powerful flaps, the horses took to the sky, pulling the chariot with them. It was a bit rough and bumpy on the way up, but once the horses were high in the sky, flying with the clouds, the soaring smoothed out, and Severus released his hair, brushing a few loose strands aside. He glanced down at Harry, whose hair was wind-blown and sticking up in all directions. Eileen's hair seemed perfectly fine, probably a spell she used. Severus huffed and decided to watch the horses flapping in the air. Harry, however, was trying to lean over him to look down at the ground below.

"Sit down," Severus scolded, pushing Harry's shoulder until Harry gave in and sat back in his seat.

"Can't I look at how high up we are?" Harry asked. "I want to see how tiny everything looks. Hey, can't everyone see us?"

"Of course not," Eileen said. "To them, we look like a large bird. It's a complicated disillusionment charm, hardly anything worth conversing about. Why don't you two switch seats?"

"Please Dad?" Harry asked.

"No," Severus said firmly. "We are already in flight, and I want you seated for the remainder of it."

Harry groaned and pouted slightly in his seat. He did his best to try and see over everyone else, awing at the rolling hills and beautiful homes they flew above. The horses danced in the air, happy as ever. Finally, a large manor came in sight, and the horses began descending slowly.

Prince Manor was a large country house estate made of brick and stone combined. It has been built in the late eighteenth century and homed several Prince generations. The house had a compact rectangular design, and was three stories high, the third story most likely consisting of attic space as it had several dormer windows. The manor had a hipped roof with a flat section that was surrounded by a balustrade. A large cupola rose from the center of the flat section, and inside that was a small but antique bell. Across from the east façade was a large stable, twice as long as the house itself, but only a story high. And pastures and pastures of fenced in green grass surrounded the house, and Severus could see a few Gorgobreds in each pasture, some flapping around and some grazing away. Young weanlings with half grown wings frolicked in a pasture of their own, one with a large pond.

It was a magnificent sight, and Severus hated it. He wanted nothing to do with Prince Manor. He would only see what was rightfully his, then leave, dragging Harry with him if he had to.

Harry was overjoyed to explore the mansion. His excitement came off in nauseating waves that Severus could not find a way to avoid. Severus watched as he practically bounced in his seat, pointing at the foals and then at something cool he noted about the manor.

The horses circled the house a couple times before landing on a stretch of road a few yards from the gates. Outis readjusted the lever, and the harness sprang together again, locking the two horses together once more as they pranced up to the gate, heads and wings held high.

The gate opened for them as they came up to it. The horses followed a circular pathway that took them around a large central garden and fountain. They drew to a slow stop in front of the manor and pawed the ground in a victorious manner, as if happy to have arrived to the manner in a timely manner and in one piece.

Outis jumped down from his perch and opened the door for Eileen, who stepped out first.

"Come along," Eileen encouraged, "I'll have tea prepared while we wait on lunch."

Harry jumped down and Severus followed, not commenting on what Eileen had said.

Outis bowed to them as he closed the door. He jumped back up on the perch and struck the air above the horses with the long whip, directing them magically. They walked around the circular path and followed another path toward the stables.

"Make sure they are bathed and brushed before you turn them out," Eileen called to the elf. She shook her head. "Useless creatures, they must always be reminded of how things must be done here. Come, darlings. Let me show you to the dining hall while we enjoy our tea and wait on lunch."

Eileen marched up the stairs. Harry turned to Severus, who nodded his head in Eileen's direction, and they climbed up the stairs after her. Harry gasped as they entered a high ceiling hall, and he spun in circles to take everything in: the chandelier, the painted portraits, the decorative Gorgobreds covering the ceiling.

Severus had to put a hand on Harry's shoulder to stop him from running into a small table with a large vase on it, and he directed Harry toward where Eileen had veered off to the right into a large dining area suitable to host all the muggles of Ostbridge to a dinner. The table itself could fit an army.

"Come sit," Eileen commanded as she took a seat at the head of the table.

"You live here all by yourself?" Harry asked.

Severus sat two chairs away from Eileen, and Harry awkwardly sat in the chair on Severus's right so he was only one chair away from Eileen.

"I do. But the sky jockeys visit when they come to care for the horses, and I have the house elves to keep me company. Oh, it does get lonely, though."

"I'm sorry," Harry said.

"It's nothing I haven't gotten used to," Eileen said. She tapped the table, and an even smaller house elf came running through a back door with tea items on a trolley. Severus blinked at the pathetic creature that stood hardly bigger than a three-year-old. She wore an oversized silver pillow case that had gold trim on the bottom and she nearly tripped over her feet after accidentally stepping on the hem. This must be Portia. She stopped next to Eileen and poured her a cup of hot tea, added a splash of milk, then carefully placed the tea in front of Eileen.

Then, the little elf ran over to Severus and Harry and poured two cups of tea while asking, "How would Masters like his teas?"

"I'll take it as it is, thank you," Severus told the elf, and he accepted the tea from the elf.

"And Master?" Portia asked Harry.

"You don't have to call me Master," Harry said. "And I can make my own if you leave the trolley here."

Portia gasped and froze. After a second, she blinked and looked between Eileen and Harry. She wrung her hands as she said, "No, Master will not be making his tea. I's can do it just as Master wishes if he tells Portia." The last few words were spoken with hesitation.

"Err, okay," Harry said. "Milk and two sugars please."

"Yes, Master." Portia made his tea and offered it to him.

When everyone was satisfied, she bowed deeply before pushing the trolley back through the door she came from.

"I'll never understand house elves," Harry said, shaking his head.

"They are not meant to be understood," Eileen said. "They are meant to serve and serve only. You're not one of those house elf sympathizers, are you, boy?"

"A what?" Harry frowned. "Well, I mean, I don't think it's right to force someone to serve you forever."

"You think they were forced?" Eileen asked with a smirk. She steepled her fingers and rested her chin on them as she gave Harry an amused look. "Prince Manor is as much their home as it is mine. They were born here, born into servitude, bred to be they way they are now, and very much in our debt forever. That is the way of the house elf."

"You don't think that's wrong?" Harry argued.

Severus gently kicked Harry's shin under the table, earning his attention. He gave Harry a mild glare.

"Mind your tone," he said. "And house elves are an age-old tradition in many pureblood families, and it certainly isn't any of your concern how they are treated under their mistress."

"Perhaps I should donate one to you," Eileen suggested. "After all, a house elf could free you up of so much physical labor. No more cleaning your bedroom, making your bed, or even pulling weeds. Doesn't that sound appealing?"

"I can do that just fine on my own," Harry said. "I wouldn't . . ."

"Evans does not need a house elf, nor do I," Severus interrupted before Harry could continue the conversation on what was fair and what wasn't. "Now, you had a will that needed to be reviewed?"

Eileen took a long sip of her tea. As she set her cup down on the saucer plate, Portia came running back out with the trolley, this time, with lunch on the tray. She paused in front of Eileen first, setting down her plate and bowl in front of her. She refilled Eileen's tea and then ran around the table and set dishes down in front of Harry and Severus. After refilling their teas, she bowed deeply and headed back to the kitchens.

Severus studied the dish placed before him. It was a dover sole served on wilted spinach. The bowl had a thin but creamy looking green soup. It looked vaguely familiar, but the name was escaping his mind. He took a hesitant taste of it and was met with a strong citrusy, celery taste. It wasn't bad, so he took another bite.

"What is this?" Harry asked, twirling his spoon in the soup.

"Lovage soup," Eileen answered him as she took a bite of her own soup before cutting into the fish.

Harry still looked unsure, but he took a small taste of the soup. His face scrunched up, but he took another small bite. Severus watched him take three more slow bites, the child's face scrunching up in funny faces each time. Severus leaned down close to Harry.

"You don't have to eat it if you don't like it," he whispered to Harry.

Harry made a grateful face and pushed the bowl away, looking over at Eileen, who smirked.

"Don't worry," she said, "the Gorgobreds love this soup. They will appreciate a snack. Outis!"

The house elf that had driven the carriage appeared with a pop at Eileen's side. He bowed deeply.

"Yes, Mistress?"

"Take this boy's soup to Oppilamani. Make sure you put it in his serving dish."

Outis took the soup from Harry and bowed once more before popping away.

Harry happily ate his fish and spinach. Severus finished the soup and ate most of the fish and spinach before he felt full and waited until Harry and Eileen were finished. Harry cleaned his plate, but Eileen had barely made a dent in the soup or the fish lunch. She poked at it, lost in her thoughts. Severus refused to comment on what a waste of food it was and wondered why she even had any prepared for herself if she wasn't going to eat it.

Finally, Eileen set her fork down and stood up, Severus following her lead, and Harry standing a second later.

"Evans, why don't you go explore while your father and I discuss legal matters."

Harry glanced up at Severus, who nodded his head in agreement.

"Stay inside, and stay on the first floor for now," Severus said.

"Oh, there's much to see," Eileen said, clapping her hands together. "The leisure room, the library, the nook, the hot tub in the guest suite. The house elves might have even found swimming trunks for you." Eileen winked at Harry.

"Really? That's brilliant!"

Stay on the first floor," Severus warned once more.

Harry ran out of the dining room in search of the hot tub, no doubt. Eileen smiled and walked in the opposite direction Harry had gone, and Severus followed her. They moved through the hall once more and came to a grand office space where arch windows allowed the sun to light up the space. Eileen sat behind the desk and motioned for Severus to sit in one of the two large plush chairs in front of the desk. Severus sneered at the seats for a moment before he sat down and pushed himself closer to the desk.

"So where is this will?" Severus asked immediately. He wanted to get this taken care of as quickly as possible and then leave the manor and never see Eileen again.

"Cutting right to the chase, aren't we?" Eileen pulled out a few papers from her desk. "And here I thought we might have a heart to heart."

"We've never had heart to hearts, and we certainly won't start now. Let's see it."

Eileen held on to the parchment for a second longer before reaching over the desk and offering Severus the papers. When he took them, she pulled out her cigarette holder and lit another cigarette at the end of it, using her wand as a lighter. Severus tried not to act annoyed that she was smoking in an enclosed room.

Severus began reading over the words, a frown quickly growing on his face. He quickly realized that it wasn't a will, but a magically binding contract. He glared down at it. It almost read like a will, and if he hadn't read word for word, he would have missed the few key words that indicated a binding that if broke, would result in serious consequences with his magic. Otherwise, if completed, he would inherit Prince Manor, the Grand Prince Stables, and the Prince vaults upon death . . . wait . . .

"This is your will," Severus said slowly as he looked up from the contract.

Eileen lifted her brows as she took a swig from her cigarette.

"Yes," was her only answer.

"Your contract," Severus continued looking down, "naming myself and any of my children as beneficiary to this inheritance upon your death but only if—" Severus's throat dried and nearly choked him and he coughed slightly to clear it. The next words brought out an anger he hadn't felt in years.

"If you and Evans come to live with me and care for me in my final years, however long that may be." Eileen said aloud what he could not read, and hearing the words brought back childhood memories that he swore he had occluded somewhere deep in the darkest corners of his mind. They resurfaced all at once, overwhelming him, but he took deep breaths.

"This is all about you," Severus said. He snarled at her. "Once again, you've proven how shallow you truly are. That disease you mentioned earlier that your mother died from, it's hereditary, isn't it? You have it. And you're dying from it."

"Smart boy," Eileen muttered as she leaned back in her chair. "The healer told me I had only a few years left."

"Why bring me into this?" Severus asked. "Why ask me to care for you when you could just as easily hire a caretaker?"

"And humiliate myself? A Prince prides herself on appearance, and I cannot let a stranger see me in such a feeble state. It would ruin the Prince reputation if word gets out of a hereditary disease that affects only purebloods and their magical cores. Do you have any idea what panic that would cause among other purebloods with distant Prince relatives? I must uphold the Prince legacy to the grave, and you will assist me, a Prince yourself."

"That's what you really care about," Severus said. "Your reputation? Not me, not your only grandson, but your pathetic reputation."

"Imagine the fortune you'll have," Eileen said. "This will all be yours when I'm gone. Evans will be set for life, and you could retire early, leave the little shack you call a home."

"I quite like my home, thank you very much," Severus snapped as he stood up. "And you can take this contract and shove it where the sun doesn't shine because I'm not signing it."

"And condemn your poor mother to an awful death?" Eileen asked, standing as well and glaring at Severus.

Severus paused, staring directly back into his mother's soulless dark orbs that were enhanced from the foggy smoke of her cigarette.

"You were never a mother to me," Severus growled, then he turned and stormed out of the study, leaving a speechless Eileen inside it.

The bathroom was in convenient proximity to the study, making it an easy and quick find for Severus as he ran inside, nauseated and lightheaded. He leaned against the double sink vanity and encouraged himself to breathe through his nose, but his lunch churned uneasily in his stomach, and he found himself rushing for the toilet to expel the expensive meal. After splashing water on his face in hopes to recalibrate himself, he took several steps backwards until his back hit the wall, then he slid to the ground, resting his arms on his knees as he stared at the opposite side of the bathroom.

Of all the scenarios he had envisioned about the off chance of running into Eileen again, he had never imagined this happening in any of them. He closed his eyes, hoping to occlude the memories that kept invading his thoughts, memories of Eileen's constant dismissal of her son, her lack of pride whenever he tried doing anything nice for her, her "forgetfulness" when she was supposed to pick him up from muggle school, and her overall apathetic behavior toward Severus growing up. And then she had left, leaving him at nineteen to drink and rot alone in Spinner's End shortly after the death of his father. With nothing tethering her to the muggle world, Eileen was quick to abandon it.

Which also meant abandoning her son.

Even after all those years, it still hurt. And Severus closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the cold stone wall.

She was dying now. And he shouldn't care.

But like any decent human, he certainly didn't want her to suffer needlessly. That didn't mean he would be the one to care for her, but she would have to agree to a caretaker. But a Prince was not only prideful but stubborn. He knew that personally.

The conflicting emotions hurt his head more, and he occluded to the best of his ability until there was only silence ringing in his ears.

Cold suffocating silence.

Chapter Text

Sometimes, centering the mind and occluding was a great stress relief that Severus partook in often. With his eyes closed, he focused on the silence around him, an eerie quiet for such a large mansion. The wind outside occasionally announced its presence, and the white noise it created further pushed Severus into his meditative state. The frustration and anger he had felt earlier slowly evaporated into a deep sense of calm, clearing away his thoughts in a swirl of dark colors, blues and purples that washed away every negative emotion and thought from his conscience, leaving behind a starry night image. He felt lighter than air for a moment, and it was enough to relax him completely, leaving him feel collected and in control once more.

He took a deep inhale, feeling the air wash his lungs, and then he exhaled slowly, cleansing the energy within him, his magic tingling just the slightest at the renewed vitality.

After a few minutes, Severus opened his eyes, returning to reality. He glanced around the bathroom he was sitting on the floor in, taking in the silvers, blues, and greens that flooded his eyes. He took a couple deep breaths once more, trying to maintain his meditative state. He was always able to think clearer after occluding and meditating, and maybe he'll be able to come up with a solution to his dilemma now that he was refocused.

Standing up, he stretched briefly then rinsed his face at the sink, using the hanging hand towel to dry himself before tossing it into the basket near next to the trash bin. The towel vanished quickly, most likely taken by one of the elves tending to the house.

Severus stepped out of the bathroom, then retraced his steps to his mother's study. She was no longer in the office, so Severus walked up to the desk and helped himself to the contract that sat patiently on the desk, a peacock quill in an inkstand to the right of the contract.

Severus picked up the quill, feeling the softness of the feather before he pocketed it in an inner robe pocket. He then picked up the will, looking over the words on the crinkling parchment. Carefully, he put the will in a separate robe pocket before moving out of the office. He wasn't sure what he was going to do with it, but at least he had it to reference back to at any time. He'd take the afternoon to think it over; to read it over again and again if he had to, just to make sure he didn't miss anything. He walked down the hall, passing a library as he did so. A quick glance inside informed him no one had stepped foot inside the library in a long time.

The guest suite was a luxury, with a king-sized bed surrounded by large purple drapes in the back center of the room with a window wall adjacent to it, allowing sunlight to flood the room, and it illuminated the entire bed. There was a walk-in closet to the left of the bed and a desk with a lamp to the right. A vanity with several compartments and mirrors at all angles took up what remained of the wall near the walk-in closet. A cushioned window seat circled the window wall, and the view overlooked the stable and pastures.

Severus ignored the view in favor of checking the ensuite. He found a bathroom fit for a king, with a double shower, a double vanity, and a toilet in its own little room. The tub that sat in the center near a window with the same view as the bedroom doubled as a jacuzzi, and it was big enough for six people. The tub was full, and steam was evident, and Severus noted a discarded pair of swimming trunks on a drying rack. He must have missed Harry by a few minutes, and obviously, his child was no longer heeding his order to stay on the first floor. Severus sighed and looked up, glancing out the window. His eyes narrowed.

He walked out of the bathroom and to the large window in the bedroom.

There was Harry, running over to the pastures where several of the Gorgobreds where romping in the green fields. Severus growled under his breath as he crossed his arms. Harry paused in front of the pasture where two foals were racing each other. He's got to learn one way or another, Severus thought with a smirk.

"Sonorus," Severus muttered with a flick of his wrist in Harry's direction. The charm was a sound amplifier, and he could hear his son as if he was in the same room standing next to him.

"Here, pegasusses," Harry called to the foals, standing up on the bottom rail and reaching over the fence, offering a hand. "Come here, pretty ponies."

"Good," Harry said softly. "I won't hurt you. Come on. A little more."

The foal snorted then lunged forward and snapped at Harry's hand.

Harry stumbled and fell off the fence, falling into the grass while the foals snickered, fluttering their undersized wings. Suddenly, a larger winged horse flew over to the foals, landing in between Harry and the younglings before letting out a loud, angry neigh, it's ears flat against its head. The foals pushed their heads forward and clicked their teeth softly in submission before turning and galloping as fast as they could out into the field.

The Gorgobred huffed and shook his mane out before looking back at Harry. The gold collar it wore around the withers reminded Harry who it was.

"Oppilamani!" Harry greeted, standing up and stroking the winged horse's forehead. Oppilamani enjoyed the attention, pushing his head into Harry's hand.

While Severus had watched Harry's failed attempt at petting the foals, he also saw Eileen slowly walking across the field toward Harry, who had yet to notice her presence until she spoke.

"You must be careful around the foals, Evans," Eileen said when she was finally near enough to Harry to be heard. "They might be wizard-bred, but they are wild things until they start their training at two years old. The breakers will rein them in, then they usually have a change of heart towards people."

"What are breakers?" Harry asked.

"Trainers. They train the winged horses to accept a rider and how to fly a course. We have some of the best around, you know."

"Cool. Oppilamani seems to really like attention."

"He is a showoff when he wants to be. The spoiled miscreant."

Oppilamani shook his mane proudly and stretched out his massive wings, the white feathers seemingly shining in the sunlight.

"What keeps him and the others from just flying away?" Harry asked.

"The wards on the property ensure they can only fly a certain distance away and only so high up into the sky. They receive a sharp zap if they try to push the wards' boundaries, and trust me, they learn fast."

"Oh," Harry replied as he scratched Oppilamani's neck. Severus couldn't help the roll of his eyes. Eloquent as ever.

"Okay," Harry answered. "We just moved here this summer. He surprised me with it actually. I've made some new friends here too."

"Fascinating. Is it just you two?"

"Yeah, it's just Dad and me. Mum died when I was a baby, so I never knew her."

"Any other family on your mother's side I might know of?"

Careful now, Severus thought as he watched Harry's face turn thoughtful for a moment. As private and prestigious as Eileen could be, she was also gregarious and likely to snoop. And if Harry gave out one wrong detail, he could blow his own cover. Severus amplified his charm a couple notches so he could hear what was being said a little better.

"Err, mum was a muggleborn . . ."

Severus breathed a sigh of relief.

"I see," Eileen said. She focused on brushing the winged horse's mane for a minute before saying, "Your father was always interested in . . . muggleborns. I never understood the appeal."

"You married a muggle," Harry stated bluntly.

Severus winced at that, wishing he was close enough to smack Harry upside the head for that remark.

"Yes." Eileen flashed her eyes over at Harry. "And why do you think that was?"

"I don't know," Harry answered honestly and thankfully, with a bit of remorse in his voice. "Dad never really talked much about you or his dad."

"Hmm, figures," Eileen shrugged as she finished brushing out Oppilamani's mane and moved back to unbraid the tail and brush that. "He was always a rather ungrateful child, just like his father. I married a muggle in spite of my parents' pureblood traditions. Not that I am against the purity of magic, but they insisted I marry a suitor I absolutely despised. There wasn't enough wealth in the world to buy me into that marriage, so I found myself a muggle who was at least charming, in the beginning anyway. My parents, your great grandparents, they were furious. Disowned me, then and there."

"Forgiveness is a funny thing," Eileen continued. "They took me back in their dying days, renamed me heir of the estate and here we are. Now you shall be named heir of the estate. Well, your father first, then you."

"Really? I don't know, Dad doesn't seem to . . . "

"Like me? It doesn't matter, we are blood, therefore, family."

"Sometimes blood isn't thicker than water," Harry said, reciting what Severus had once told him.

"Perhaps, but you can't change blood. As my son, he has an obligated duty to care for his elders, myself specifically."

"You can't force him to do that."

"I won't need to. Blood will win, you'll see. He'll finally repay me for the care I had to provide him as a child. He was a rather needy child, always getting I his father's way and trying to demand my attention away from important business."

"There's business more important that your own child?" Harry gave Eileen a look of disbelief as he gave Oppilamani one final stroke down the forehead before the winged horse flew off.

Severus closed his eyes, knowing what words were coming next. He heard them so often growing up, but even now, it still pained him to hear them. Not nearly as much as it did as a child, but still enough.

"Err, I think I need to use the loo. Where was that again?"

"There is one just down the hall to your right if you enter the west wing door there."

"Thanks." Harry flashed Eileen a smile before running back toward the manor.

Severus cancelled the spell and started heading toward the west wing, hoping to catch Harry before he could find something else to distract him. Alas, the trip took a good ten minutes to reach the opposite side of the mansion, and he saw the bathroom Harry was directed to was empty. Sighing irritably, Severus kept walking in hopes he'd find something that could be of interest to a soon to be 12-year-old boy.

It didn't take him long to find an indoor greenhouse just a corridor away from the bathroom. The Princes' had produced a fair number of great Potioneers that went down in history books, so a place to grow those ingredients on the estate did not come as a surprise to Severus. He slowly entered the greenhouse, amazed at the sight of flowers, grasses, small trees, and magical plants blooming like a jungle in the ballroom sized area. There was a stone pathway that weaved all the way around the room and in the center was a stone fountain. The stone was carved to resemble a peacock with its' tail fanned out. Water sprouted from the peacock's open beak and trickled down the layered stone wall into the fountain below. There were a couple sitting benches randomly placed in the room.

Forget a curious pre-teen boy, Severus felt he could lose himself exploring the greenhouse. He already paused to admire the vibrant redness of the caladium leaves, touching the plant to feel its crispness. As much as he didn't want any part of this estate, he would love to transport this greenhouse to his own. He wondered how many of these plants would tolerate transportation.

A sharp scuff caught Severus's attention, and he glanced up in time to see Harry in the far back of the greenhouse reaching a hand out to touch a large leafy plant in a tall pot that appeared to be swaying—like a head checking out its prey.

"Harry, no!" Severus shouted as he tried to dodge around the many plants and the fountain to get to Harry, his wand pulled out of his sleeve and ready to fire a severing charm.

Severus's shout startled Harry, who spun around to see Severus at the other end of the room. Large vines swung out and snapped themselves around Harry's waist, and Harry yelped as the vines' yanked him back toward the spiky part of the plant.

Before Severus could hex the plant, it's vines suddenly shriveled up and released Harry, dropping him to the stone floor.

Portia, the small house elf, shuffled over to Harry, her hand still thrusted out toward the plant that shriveled away from her burn hex that dehydrated the plant. Severus sighed in relief but continued on his way toward Harry.

"Is Master okay?" Portia asked Harry once the Venomous Tentacula no longer seemed interested in eating Harry or Portia. She peered down at Harry closely. "Is Master hurting?"

"Just a little," Harry said as he sat up and rubbed his ribs. "But I think I'm okay. What was that?"

"That be a Venomous Tentacula," Portia explained. "Carnivorous plant, it is, very dangerous for Master to be touching."

"Sorry," Harry said. "It looked cool."

"That is certainly not an invitation to touch it," Severus snapped as he finally reached Harry. "Risking your life simply because a plant "looked cool." Honestly, I thought I've taught you better than that."

Harry blushed, but he still accepted Severus's hand when it was offered, and Severus pulled Harry up to his feet. Portia wrung her large hands as she watched Severus give Harry a quick once-over for any scratches or punctures the plant may have caused. When Harry was clean of any wounds, Severus released him and glared down at his son.

"I thought I told you to stay inside," Severus growled.

Harry swallowed as he realized Severus must have seen him outside.

"Well, I was in the hot tub and I saw the winged horses in the pasture and I guess I just thought . . ."

"That you'd disobey me? I do not know this estate or what surprises it might hold for us. Clearly." Severus eyed the Venomous Tentacula pointedly.

"I was just exploring," Harry said. "Besides, Portia was there to help."

"Portia was not fast enough," Portia said. She snapped her fingers and a short leather strap appeared in her hands, which she tried to give to Harry. "Portia must be punished for near failure."

"What?" Harry asked, stepping back from the offending object. "What is that? I'm not using it."

"I will," Severus said, taking the strap from Portia, then he quickly swatted the seat of Harry's jeans with it.

"Ow!" Harry complained, rubbing his bottom as he angled himself away from Severus. "What was that for?"

"Leaving the safety of the manor and disobeying my order to stay inside," Severus said. He handed the strap back to Portia, who hesitantly took it. "You may put that back wherever you got it from. I'm not interested in strapping you. You saved my son from his own idiocy."

Harry glared at Severus.

"Portia did not stop plant from grabbing Master. She must be punished for it."

"I disagree. I, myself, could not stop the plant from grabbing Harry and I was in the same room as him. Do not argue with me, Portia, and get rid of the strap."

"Yes, Master Snape, sir," Portia bowed deeply and snapped her fingers. The strap vanished.

"Is this how you are treated here?" Harry asked, absently rubbing at his bottom still. "You get strapped for every little mistake you make?"

"Prince house elves must be perfect, like all else that be bred on Prince Manor: the winged horses, the Ural owls, the Venomous Tentacula." Portia looked at the plant pointedly. She glanced around the room, then nodded as if affirming her own words. "Anything that comes from Prince Manor, it be perfect, or it doesn't leave."

"Sounds like a lot of pressure," Harry remarked. "But how can you be perfect? No one is born that way."

"I's is." Portia said. "Portia was selectively bred by Mistress Prince nine years ago. Prince elves must be petite and elegant but have big hands and feet for hard labor." Portia looked down as she wrung her hands again. "Portia be too tiny and feet too small. Hands are perfect though."

Inbreeding, Severus thought with a disgusted face. He was sure "Mistress Prince" was in reference of his grandmother, not Eileen, and he was glad Portia and Outis would be the last of the Prince elves. He was sure he would have seen another by now if there were more working the estate.

"That's awful!" Harry said. "And I think you're perfect just the way you are."

"Master is very kind," Portia said, her eyes watering and she sniffled. "Portia must return to work. Be safe, Masters."

With a snap of her fingers, Portia vanished.

"I'm sorry for leaving the manor," Harry said after a silent moment. "I had a really weird conversation with your mum."

"So did I," Severus admitted, walking to a bench, and sitting down, staring at the ornate fountain. Harry followed him, sitting next to his father.

"I know you don't like talking about your parents," Harry started, "but can I ask one question?"

"You may ask as many as you wish," Severus said. "I will answer what I deem appropriate."

"Was she a good mum?"

Severus sighed and looked down at Harry.

"I used to think that she was doing everything she could given her circumstances. But as I grew older, and had the opportunity to meet Lily's mother, your maternal grandmother, I realized that Eileen was not a good mother at all. Mrs. Evans was kind hearted, attentive, made sure her kids ate a hearty meal each night, knitted them sweaters for the cold weather, and always put her kids before herself. Eileen was none of that. She put herself before me on many occasions, provided the bare necessities when asked, and did no more. But she never wanted to be a mother. She never hid that from me."

Harry frowned at that, then rested his head against Severus's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Harry offered.

Severus snorted, wrapping an arm around Harry.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. I certainly do not pity my childhood. I do have a decision to make, though." Severus pulled out the will. "Eileen mentioned a disease that killed her mother. Turns out, that disease is hereditary. She asks that we come live with her in her final weeks, or months, or years, to care for her, and only then will we inherit the estate. If we refuse, we get nothing."

"Why would she want you to take care of her?"

"To save her the humiliation of having some stranger, potentially muggleborn, caring for her in her final years. She also wishes to hide the disease from the other Pureblood families. Remember what Portia said about perfection? Everything from the Prince estate is perfect, and that includes the offspring. She fears there will be backlash if word got out that the Prince family carries a hereditary disease that only affects purebloods. Those who have had a Prince in their family might sue for false advertisement."

"They would really do that?"

"It's a strange world we live in, Harry."

The two sat side by side for several minutes, content in each other's presence, listening to the fountain's trickle and soil sifting from the slow movements of magical plants. Severus closed his eyes, reenforcing his meditative state he had manage to dive into earlier. He felt more at peace surrounded by the plants, feeling the magic from some of them while the fountain offered beautiful white noise. He could also feel the stirrings of Harry's own magic next to him, and he welcomed the presence. Splashes of red and gold invaded his mind, but he smiled, nonetheless. He took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly.

"What are you doing?" Harry's voice penetrated the silence.

"Meditating," Severus said. "It helps with occluding and can strengthen your mind magic."

"Mind magic? Like . . . mind reading?"

Severus opened his eyes with a sigh. He glanced down at his son who was staring up at him with a quizzical look.

"Perhaps I'll explain the complexities of mind magic when we are back in our own home."

"Are we going home? What about the will?"

"I am not sure. I need to think about it a little more. But whatever I decide, it will be with best intentions for you first and foremost."

Harry smiled then rested his head against Severus's shoulder once more.

Severus ran a hand through Harry's locks as he glanced down at the parchment in his hand. The weight of the quill tucked away in his inner robe pocket grew heavier the longer he stared at the crumpling parchment. There were too many wounds that could open back up so easily if he agreed to stay, yet what would Eileen do if he chose not to stay? She was the type to suffer through it alone until she could physically do no more, and he would feel awful forcing her in that position. For some reason, he could not seem to care less for her predicament, as much as he wished he could. And then he had Harry to think about. Harry didn't need the toxicity that would surely follow with Eileen and Severus under the same roof.

Harry's eyes were closed now, and his breathing was evening out. Severus didn't blame the poor kid; he had had a very busy day. Severus smiled and placed a kiss on Harry's mop of hair. He had to do right by his son. At the end of the day, that was all that truly mattered.

Chapter Text

"Did we come to a decision?" Eileen asked from behind her desk where she sat tall as sipped a glass of water.

Severus walked into the study with a quill in one hand and the will in another. Harry followed him into the room, leaning against the desk when Severus paused in front of it and placed the quill and will down in front of Eileen. He crossed his arms as he glared at Eileen.

"Yes, I've made my decision," Severus said.

"Excellent," Eileen smiled. She picked up the will then frowned, glancing up at Severus. "You didn't sign it."

"I was thinking it needed some revisions."

"What are you talking about?" Eileen snapped, her eyes hardening.

"I am talking about rewriting your will, so we all get what we want," Severus said. "I'd rather not see you suffer needlessly by walking out these doors and leaving you to your fate, but I will do just that if you do not agree with my terms. Evans and I will not be moving in with you, however, I will happily look into magi-nurses for you and find one willing to keep her trap shut about the Prince disease to other purebloods, which shouldn't be hard if said witch is a muggleborn."

"I do not want treatment and care from a muggleborn," Eileen said. "Do you know how that will look?"

"Well, I was assuming you weren't planning on showing her off."

"I still have company over now and then. Family would look much better to the public eye, you know."

"Or you could order her not to say a word in their presence. I'm not quarrelling over every term I make with you; we'll be here all day. And you should start writing this down. Evans and I will not be moving in, but I will save you the trouble and make sure someone is here for your end of term care. Someone reliable and will not speak of this to any prestigious family you wish to keep in contact with. That is my first condition."

Eileen glared at Severus before huffing and pulling out a new parchment to revise her will.

"As that was really the only disagreement we seemed to have," Eileen said, "I suppose the rest of the will is up to your standards? You want everything without the labor?"

"Of course not," Severus said. "You can write this, too. Upon your passing, this estate will be renovated where needed and put up to market for whoever wishes to take it, magical and muggle alike."

"No," Eileen said firmly. "The Prince Estate is a thousand-year-old home and tradition. What about the greenhouse? The Ural owls?"

"We have owls, and they'd eat your puny things," Severus said. "They can go to an owl emporium." Severus then smirked. "But I'll gladly take that greenhouse off your hands should you wish to endow me with such an inheritance."

Eileen gave Severus an annoyed look and a quick shake of her head.

"Of course, you'd want that," Eileen sneered. "Anything else, my son? Seeing how you're dictating my last will and testament?"

"Your last will and testament was selfish."

"And here I thought leaving my last living blood a home, enough finances to retire, and a beautiful garden for your growing boy to play was rather an altruistic act. And what of my horses?"

"I hear there's a nice glue factory not far from here. Muggles have an odd affinity for using such creatures in their adhesives."

"Dad," Harry started to say as he looked up at his father with a concerned look.

"How dare you!" This time, Eileen rose from her seat and matched the furious glare Severus was shooting her. She pointed a finger at Severus. "After all I've ever done for you, this will be how you repay me? By slaughtering the Prince family's pride?"

"You really wouldn't, would you?" Harry asked, staring wide eyed at Severus.

Severus met Harry's eyes, then rolled his own and gave a shake of his head.

"No, Evans, I would not. So calm yourselves, both of you. I figured their trainers or jockeys would take the ones they like."

"You'd put an end to a great bloodline?" Eileen asked.

"I'm not getting into breeding of winged beasts, thank you very much."

"I think it'd be pretty cool," Harry muttered.

Severus cuffed the back of Harry's head.

"Hush you, you nearly got bit by them."

Harry rubbed the back of his head and rolled his eyes but said nothing more.

"So," Eileen began, folding her arms and studying Severus. "This is how you want me to rewrite my will? Ensure everyone has somewhere to go, you get the greenhouse, and my home goes up for sale? You want me to agree to this?"

"You don't have much choice," Severus answered. "Either you rewrite it my way, which benefits both of us, or you leave it as it is, I disclaim it, and then you rot in this vastly empty manor and Gringotts takes your house and sells it anyway to the highest bidder magical or muggle alike. I am doing you the honor of taking on that responsibility myself and allowing you someone who can take care of you till your dying breath. Which shall it be?"

Eileen remained silent for a moment longer before. She walked around the desk, coming to stand in front of Severus and leaning back into the edge of her desk.

"What happened to you?" Eileen asked. "There was once you were so willing for greatness and power. And here I am, giving you that very opportunity by taking over as head of Prince Manor. Wizards and witches all around the world come here to marvel at the horses and owls, come to collect rare ingredients only we grow, and you are willing to throw all that away to keep your little shack? Perhaps you'd like to discuss this with Evans. Did you ask him what he wanted?"

"His opinion has little hold here," Severus said, ignoring Harry's indignant look.

"After everything I've done for you, this is what I get in return? Abandonment. Surely this must be elderly abuse, leaving your dear mother in the care of a stranger."

"Don't get me started on "abuse.""

"I did what I could for you . . ."

"You did nothing," Severus snapped, scowling furiously now, "but stand there and watch Father unleash every ounce of anger he had on me whether it related to something I did or not. And if that wasn't enough, you were never there for me."

"I had to provide for you; I could not do that and entertain."

"Oh, I'm sorry, was that asking for too much?"

"Dad," Harry tried to butt in nervously, reaching up a hand to rest on Severus's arm. Severus didn't spare him so much as a glance as he pulled away from Harry and stepped closer to Eileen, who was not intimidated by his invasion of her personal space in the least, matching his intense stare.

"Maybe instead of accusing me of every little thing I did wrong," Eileen said, leaning forward some, "you could thank me for seeing you through Hogwarts and keeping you alive. Not everyone can have the perfect, fantasy mother they dream of, you know."

"That's rich coming from you, considering you didn't even try to be a mother. And a mother certainly wouldn't force her son and grandchild into something they didn't want, like living with you."

"You managed for nineteen years before; you can't do one more year for your dying mother who brought you into this world?"

"Something you've regretted ever since, and you make sure to remind me whenever the opportunity comes up. Damn it, you're such a vile woman; why did I even consider coming here? I knew it would end like this. I should tear that will up and walk out."

"Go ahead!" Eileen encouraged. "You're already having me rewrite it, so go for it. I'll just change all my plans for your convenience, would that make you happy, darling? Then you can walk out of my life like you've always done."

"You walked out on me, you daft cow!"

That did it. Eileen drew her hand back, ready to strike Severus across the face. Severus raised his own hand to grab his mother's wrist but before either could touch each other, Eileen cried out in pain and dropped her hand, clutching it with the other and bending herself over.

Severus stepped back and watched slack jawed as Eileen's hand began swelling quickly like a balloon. The swelling spread to her wrist and then her upper arm. Eileen panted, tears welling in her eyes as she first squinted up at Severus, then turned her eyes over to Harry.

Severus followed her gaze.

Harry was several feet away from there, standing near the entryway of the study, and he was wide-eyed and shaking, his fingers trembling out in front of him. His eyes darted between Eileen and Severus as he took another step back.

Slow and steady, Severus carefully approached Harry, reaching out gently to his son.

"Evans," he drawled, making sure Harry picked up that he was being addressed.

Harry focused on him, but he still shook.

"It's okay," Severus reassured, stepping up to Harry and kneeling in front of him. He grasped Harry's wrists to keep him from darting away. "Relax. I'm sorry we scared you, but we are done with our disagreement. No more yelling. It'll be okay now. Take a deep breath and relax."

Harry took in a shaky breath at Severus's prompting, then closed his eyes as he blew it out.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered.

"It's not your fault." Severus let go of Harry's wrists and rubbed Harry's shoulders. "It's ours. But keep calming down. Deep breath. In. And out. In again. And out."

Harry gradually stopped shaking as he concentrated on breathing. Finally, he opened his eyes and nodded his head. "I'm okay," he said.

Severus smiled and gave him a single nod before standing up and looking back at Eileen. The swelling had continued all the way up to her shoulder and just touching the right side of her neck, but it appeared to have stopped there now that Harry was calm. He smirked at her predicament. Severed her right, he thought as he walked back over to her, reaching into his sleeve for his wand.

"Your son is a bloody menace," Eileen growled.

"Watch what you say about my kid or I'll leave you like this," Severus snapped at her.

Eileen huffed and looked away.

Taking that as apology enough, Severus waved his wand over the length of her right arm and the swelling went down little by little. Finally, Eileen was back to normal, and she rubbed her sore arm.

"Magic is not allowed outside of school for minors," Eileen reminded with a glare at Harry.

"It was obviously accidental," Severus said, stepping into Eileen's view of Harry, blocking his son from her accusatory looks. "An emotional outburst due to our fighting. It's to be expected, he's just a child still."

Huffing again, Eileen moved around her desk and sat down, giving her arm one last sympathy rub. She picked up the fresh parchment and a quill and began scribbling.

"Let's get this over with. Seeing as I won't be changing your mind?"

She looked up at Severus. He shook his head.

"Fine. A magi-nurse who'll keep her mouth shut, the owls to an emporium, we'll let the jockeys and trainers see to the horses, you want the greenhouse, and you'll manage the estate and sell it once ready. What remains of the Prince vault will be yours to deal with however you see fit. Return it to the bank for all I care. And what about the elves?"

"Free them," Severus said. "Or they can choose to go work at Hogwarts or wherever they desire to be."

"Fine," Eileen said through her teeth.

Harry tugged on Severus's sleeve and motioned him to lower down. Severus allowed Harry to whisper in his ears. A look of disbelief overcame his features though.

"And where in Merlin's name do you plan on keeping it?" Severus asked.

Harry shrugged and Severus sighed begrudgingly. Eileen quirked a brow, waiting impatiently for whatever request the child had.

"Evans wishes to be granted ownership of Oppilamani."

"My prized High Skies Champion?" Eileen furrowed her brows. "Absolutely not."

"No? Glue factory it is."

"I am not giving an expensive, well bred, champion horse over to an eleven-year-old."

"Careful," Severus warned. "You wouldn't want to upset Evans again, would you?"

Eileen threw a cautious look at Harry, then rolled her eyes and glared at Severus.

"You can't be serious?" she asked.

"I gave you your options. Glue factory or Evans."

Eileen grumbled under her breath as she wrote out the demand, and Severus wondered if she was regretting having written a will in the first place. They could have never crossed paths again and they both would have been perfectly content with that. Why she even bothered herself was beyond Severus. She wasn't even trying to redeem herself for all she did to Severus growing up. This wasn't a family reunion. This was a last goodbye.

"There," Eileen said, shoving the parchment over to Severus. "Happy now?"

Severus read over the will, making sure she didn't sneak any last binding words. He nodded in approval and signed the will under Eileen's signature, then handed it back to her. Eileen snatched the will from him and rolled it up before whistling lowly.

A small, beautiful pale grey owl with brown bands all along its body, wings, and tail flew into the study from the hall and landed gracefully on the desk. It had a very round face with small, dark eyes and a bright yellow beak against a pale face.

"Ministry; lawyer department," Eileen demanded without so much as a look at the bird.

The bird obediently accepted the parchment and flew off without a sound.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye, then," Eileen said, standing once more and reaching her hand out. "I expect an appropriate magi-nurse soon."

"Of course," Severus said, taking her hand and shaking it once for formalities.

Without another word to each other, Severus took Harry's hand and practically dragged his son out of the manor, where he apparated back home once they were beyond the anti-apparition wards.

Six Months Later:

There was no funeral, as there was no one to attend it. Severus took care of the burial in the way Eileen had requested in her will, buried near her parents, where all the Princes' were buried. As for the property, Severus received letters from various trainers and a couple jockeys' stating which horses they would be taking. Severus watched carefully in case any of them missed the memo and claimed Oppilamani. Three emporiums, one from Romania, one from Poland, and one from Norway were all granted permission to visit the manor and collect the birds they wanted, under the watchful eyes of the elves.

Outis and Portia chose to work for Hogwarts, that way they could continue serving one of Prince bloodline. Severus was perfectly fine with that. As it was December now, and nearing winter break, Severus planned to deal with Oppilamani then. The greenhouse would have to wait until the spring break to even decide how he would relocate the majority of it, then the big renovation project before he placed it on the market would begin that summer. Then he would be rid of the house for good.

As it turned out, Harry's new friend from the book club, Giovanna, who happened to conveniently live on a farm, was a muggleborn witch. Harry had visited their farm during the summer on a few occasions and had been present when Giovanna received her Hogwarts letter. She was sorted into Ravenclaw, and the two became closer friends and she would occasionally hang out with the Golden Trio.

Severus had asked her parents if they would be willing to house a winged horse on their twenty-nine-acre property, and they agreed after much convincing on Severus's behalf that it was no different than caring for the three horses they already had. Over the Christmas break, Severus planned to take his son and Giovanna home for the holidays in order to take Oppilamani over to his new home and get him settled with glamour charms and wards to keep him secured on the land. He needed a rest from the craziness occurring at the school currently and was sure Harry would be happy to go home for the holidays.

Finishing his grading, Severus set all of his work aside and sent his lesson plans ahead to his house with a quick charm. He grabbed his cloak and threw it over his shoulders while exiting his study. There was a knock at the door of his quarters before it opened halfway. Harry peeked his head through.

"Hey, Dad, are we leaving?" Harry asked.

"Yes, is Miss Bassani with you?"

"Yeah, can she come in?" Harry asked, opening the door all the way to reveal a petite first year with brunette hair and blue eyes adorning the blue and bronze Ravenclaw emblem on her cloak. She smiled up at Severus as she clasped her hands together in front of her.

"Good afternoon, Professor Snape," she greeted.

"Good afternoon, Miss Bassani," Severus returned. He looked around for a suitcase or bag then eyed the girl suspiciously when he did not see one. "Are you packed to head home for the holidays? I am sure you must have homework that needs to be completed over the break."

He knew that he had assigned the first years a three-foot essay on the uses of aconite.

"I completed all my homework throughout the week. And I have clothes at home I can wear, so I'm all set."

"I see." Severus looked at his son. "And what is your homework status?"

"Err, well," Harry stammered.

"I see. You would do well to take a page out of Miss Bassani's book and complete it ahead of time, perhaps this weekend, even. Come in and shut the door. We'll be leaving shortly."

"Thanks a lot, Giovanna," Harry muttered as he closed the door.

"It's not my fault you didn't finish your homework," Giovanna shot back. "Besides, I want to have fun over Christmas break, not be stuck inside studying and writing essays."

"Now you're making me wish I had done them all before we left today."

Severus smirked as he grabbed an envelope of muggle money he had converted at Gringotts from galleons. The Bassani's had refused money when he had first asked them to house Oppilamani, but he would insist when he arrived. He did not want to seem like a negligent owner, and the money would be enough to cover for a few months' worth of hay and oats. Once he had pocketed the envelope, he walked back into his living room where Harry and Giovanna were waiting by the fireplace, throwing jokes back and forth at each other.

"Are we ready?" Severus asked.

"Yes, sir," they both said.

Severus held the floo powder container out to them. They each grabbed a handful and stepped into the fireplace together, announcing Severus's address before flooing away. Severus followed right after and was pleased when both kids were sitting there waiting for them. From there, Severus apparated to Giovanna's farmhouse, where she ran up her long driveway to her waiting parents and hugged them both. Her father swung her around in his arms before releasing her so she could hug her mother as well.

Severus and Harry walked up the driveway at a slower pace. Mr. Bassani met them halfway, reaching out a hand to shake Severus's.

"It's great to see you and Harry again," Mr. Bassani said. "How have you been, lad?"

"I've been good Mr. Bassani," Harry said, shaking his hand as well.

"Please, it's Marco," the man said, waving off Hary's formality. Marco was a tall man, about as tall as Severus, but with a much broader and thicker build. His hands were calloused from the rough farm chores he completed daily, and he wore a black jacket, a buffalo plaid shirt and khakis.

"Polo," Giovanna said as she skipped back over to them. She explained to Harry, "Daddy used to get really annoyed when we'd joke about that."

Harry laughed, then his eyes were drawn to the white winged horse flying above the trees, flapping his wings fervently as he circled the farm a few times in his descend. He landed on the driveway and trotted a few feet as he brought his wings in, pausing next to Severus.

Outis, the house elf, jumped off the horse's back, then handed the reins to Severus.

"Thank you for bringing him," Severus said.

"Outis is pleased to serve Master Snape whenever it is needed." Outis bowed deeply before he popped away, startling Marco, who jumped back then laughed.

"You guys must be quite used to things like that happening all the time," he said. He eyed Oppilamani. "What a beautiful horse. Look at those wings! You'll have to explain how the glamour works again. So, my wife and I will be able to see him as he really is, but no one else will?"

"Yes." Severus nodded. "It is for his and your safety really. And no one else can know that he exists, obviously. It would be too much for muggles to take in and they'd be all over him for study or who knows what else. I'll go over his diet and schedule with you, then walk you around the wards as I put them up. Don't worry, I'll explain those, too. Meanwhile, perhaps Miss Bassani and Harry can take Oppilamani to the farm and get him settled in."

"Yes, sir," Giovanna said, accepting the reins from Severus and leading the winged horse toward the barn, Harry following behind her.

For the next hour, Severus explained what diet Oppilamani had been on and the times he'd be let out to the pasture and when he'd usually take off to fly. He answered questions about his social behavior, and whether he might be interested in the two mares that currently lived on the farm. Severus explained that Oppilamani would have no interest in the horses as they were not winged and Gorgobreds had very religious mating rituals that involved air acrobatics. The other horse, a gelding, would also cause no problems for Oppilamani, as well as the other farm animals which included four cows, seven goats, a pig, and several free-range chickens.

"What about our potatoes?" Marco asked. "That's what we do here. We've got six acres for potatoes alone and come season, we will be planting. He won't be getting into our crops, will he?"

"I can set up the wards so that he is unable to get to that part of your land," Severus said. Show me where, and we'll have this completed in no time."

Marco and Severus rode around the borders of the property line in one of Marco's atvs. Severus used his wand to build enclosure wards, security wards, and a block ward around the crop fields. Halfway through, Severus paused, staring up at the sky.

"They did not," he growled under his breath before he jumped off the atv and began whistling a sequence of high, short shrills.

Marco hopped off the atv and looked up as well, his jaw dropping at the sight of the winged horse soaring high in the clouds above them.

Oppilamani hesitated in the air when he heard the whistles, then began climbing down from the sky at a steady pace, following Severus's whistles as he had been trained to do. He circled Severus and Mark briefly before landing in front of Severus, trotting up to the man before turning to the side slightly, revealing Giovanna in an English saddle on Oppilamani's back, and Harry sitting behind her.

"Hey, Dad," Harry greeted with a guilty smile.

"I thought I told you to take Oppilamani to the stable and get him settled," Severus growled, "not take off to the sky while I'm setting ward boundaries!"

"It's my fault, sir," Giovanna said as she slid off the horse, Harry following her lead. "I got on him first to see how he was trained to ride."

"Only because I asked you," Harry said to her, then to his father said, "It's my fault, it was my idea."

"Well, consider yourselves both in trouble," Marco said, his hands on his hip. "Giovanna, you know the dangers of riding a new, strange horse. You are in big trouble, young lady. Put the horse in his stall and go to your room."

"Yes, Daddy." Giovanna took Oppilamani's reins and began to lead him away. She gave Harry one last small smile. "Bye, Harry."

Harry gave her a quick goodbye before looking up at Severus.

"You can go wait on the porch. I'll deal with you when we get back home."

Harry gulped. He turned and headed for the porch.

"Kids these days," Marco said, shaking his head. "They just love pushing boundaries, don't they?"

"Tell me about it," Severus grumbled as he stepped back up in the atv. Marco drove while Severus finished setting up all the wards they would need to keep Oppilamani safe from prying eyes while allowing him the freedom to fly as well. Finally, they stopped in the barn to place a complicated glamour on him so any muggle that wasn't Marco or his wife would see him as an ordinary large, white horse. The tasks completed, Severus thanked Marc once more for taking Oppilamani for his son as they walked up to the house, then shoved the money into Marco's hand.

"Time to go, Harry," Severus said once he was sure Marco wasn't going to try and hand the money back to him.

"Bye, Marco," Harry said politely. "And sorry about . . . flying Oppilamani."

"You're forgiven," Marco said with a smile. "I can't imagine what the temptation must have been like. You know, I'm tempted myself."

Marco winked at Harry, earning a smile.

"Stay safe, Marco," Severus said. "And don't do anything you wouldn't let Giovanna do."

"Of course, Severus." Marco grinned.

Severus rolled his eyes. He grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him close, apparating off the property and back to his own. He didn't let go of Harry's arm as he dragged his son into his house.

"What were you thinking?" Severus asked as he pulled Harry to the living area. "Taking off on that horse like that—how did you know it was even broken to accept a rider?"

"Giovanna tried him out first," Harry explained, tugging weakly against Severus's pull as he saw they were headed for the sofa. "She went really slow as she saddled him up and really slowly crawled up his back to see how he would react, but he was perfectly fine! He let her ride around and he did everything she asked him. Then she pulled me up and . . . well . . ."

"Yes?" Severus encouraged as he sat on the sofa and stood Harry in front of him.

"I remembered how Eileen had gotten Oppilamani to fly and told him to go up."

"So you're the one who put yourself and your little girlfriend up in the sky without so much as an anti-fall charm?"

"Yeah . . . hey, she's not my girlfriend. She's just a friend." Harry's cheeks were red.

"I told you both to take the horse to the stable, not fly around the property. You deliberately disobeyed me. And even worse, I was putting up wards of all kinds while you guys were up there. If I had sent up a ward right under you guys, Oppilamani would have slammed into it and stunned himself. You three would have fallen from several hundred feet in the air. Do you have any idea how close you were to death just because of that?"

"No," Harry admitted softly. He lowered his head. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't cut it," Severus said. "You disobeyed me, Harry. And you put yourself, Giovanna, and Oppilamani in life-threatening danger. I hope your little joyride was worth it, because you won't be riding that horse for the next several months, maybe even years."

Harry sniffed, though didn't look too surprised by Severus's words. Of course, Severus had also banned Harry from certain things for life before, so the child was probably learning that Severus was a lot of talk than anything else.

"Are you going to, you know," Harry asked.

"Absolutely," Severus said, and he pulled Harry over his lap. With a wave of his hand, Harry's trousers and shorts lowered themselves. "You are far overdue for it. When I tell you to do something next time, you better obey me."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, already crying softly as he buried his head in the crook of his arm.

Severus landed twelve hard swats, leaving Harry a sobbing mess over his knees before summoning the hairbrush from Harry's room. He tapped Harry's reddened bottom in warning with it. Harry tensed and cried, "Please don't, Dad. I'm sorry."

"You will get three with this," Severus said. "One for each life you put in danger."

Severus raised the brush and brought it down sharply.

Harry winced and hissed loudly, his legs kicking out.

Another swat, and Harry yelped and apologized once more.

Finally, Severus landed the third swat and he set aside the brush and waved his hand once more, righting Harry's clothed. He pulled Harry up into his arms and squeezed his son to his chest. Harry wrapped his arms around Severus's neck and sobbed into his shoulder, apologizing all the while.

"You know," Severus murmured softly, "this isn't exactly how I wanted to start our Christmas break."

"Me neither," Harry agreed. He pulled back and looked at Severus. "I am really sorry. I didn't think about you putting up the wards or falling off or anything."

"Obviously. You weren't even in a proper saddle."

"I know. We just wanted to fly with him. We were so excited and he was doing everything we asked. Well, mostly what Giovanna was directing him to do. She didn't actually want to fly."

"Smart girl."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, then glared at Severus's knowing look. "She's not my girlfriend."

"If you say so," Severus said with a shrug. He patted Harry's bottom lightly as he said, "Go change out of your school robes and bring your homework to the table. You can work on that while I make dinner."

"Can't I do my homework in my own bed?" Harry asked, his cheeks flushing.

"And be comfortable? Why, of course not. The hard chairs will remind you to mind me."

Harry groaned but went to collect his things. Severus took in a deep breath. He did not regret the choices he made though regarding Eileen's will. In time of test, family truly was the best. And he picked his family over Eileen. Blood or not, she had never been his family.

Chapter Text

Severus pulled Harry off his lap, standing the sniveling child in between his knees, before grabbing a hold of Harry's chin and angling his son's face so they were eye to eye. Harry hiccoughed slightly, his face tear-streaked, but he did not attempt to pull away from Severus's hold.

"If you ever," Severus scolded, "pull a stunt like what you did with that flying car again, dealing with me will be the least of your worries if you are not expelled from Hogwarts. What would you have done if the Ministry had found you and Mr. Weasley before you could reach the school? Do you have any idea the repercussions you would have faced then?"

Harry sniffed and shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Dad," Harry said. "I didn't think about—"

"You didn't do an inkling of thinking today, it would seem," Severus interrupted. "And that seems to be your problem, Harry, you don't think these things through before you jump into some reckless, grand adventure, just like your . . ."

Severus caught himself, biting back the comment, nearly wincing at the effort it took. Harry frowned the slightest at Severus, knowing exactly what Severus was going to say. Taking a deep breath, Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, willing his temper to calm down.

"Which one?" came Harry's muttered response as the child glared at the floor, rubbing at his red eyes.

Severus opened his eyes and glared at Harry. It had been a long time since he had made scathing remarks against James Potter or compared Harry to him, and he had tried to abstain from doing so ever since he had taken Harry in, knowing how much it upset Harry. His temper had gotten away from him, though, and this little adventure had him worried for Harry's life and the what ifs had the Ministry gotten to the boys first.

"I should not have said that," Severus said. "I could do without your cheek, however, considering how much trouble you are in. I am serious about your thinking before jumping into action. You need to start using that head of yours and consider the consequences before you make such imprudent decisions. I will not lose you over something so careless."

"Yes, sir." Harry reached a hand back to rub at his backside. "I really am sorry."

"You're forgiven," Severus said. He stood up and directed Harry toward his bedroom in their quarters. Harry was already dressed in his pajamas, so all he had to do was climb into bed. Harry did so, sitting up and looking at Severus expectantly.

"You're sure you are not hurt anywhere else?" Severus asked, giving Harry a concerned look. Harry had been a bit bruised from the Whomping Willow lashing out, and Severus had already applied bruise balm, but he wanted to make sure Harry wasn't hiding anything else.

"I'm okay, honest." Harry said. He smirked. "I mean, my bum is kind of sore, too."

"Nice try," Severus said. "Lie down and go to sleep, you insolent brat."

Harry smiled but laid back and allowed Severus to pull the blanket up over him.

"Do I still have to do the detention Professor McGonagall assigned?" Harry asked.

"Of course," Severus answered. "That was a school punishment."

"It's not fair that I get two punishments for the same thing," Harry complained. "Ron only has to do the detention."

"Mr. Weasley will also have a letter sent home to his parents," Severus said. "I am sure the detention will not be his only punishment."

"He probably won't get spanked," Harry muttered.

"How the Weasleys deal with their children is their business. However, if fairness is truly a concern to you, I can arrange a session with Mr. Weasley and see to it that he is given the same treatment you were."

"No!" Harry exclaimed, sitting up in his bed and shaking his head. "Please don't do that, Dad. I was just kidding."

"Is that so? Very well, now that I am sure we understand each other perfectly, lie down and go to sleep. It is far past your bedtime."

Harry did as he was told and Severus carded a hand through Harry's hair as he bid him goodnight before stepping out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him. Severus had sent a message to Minerva explaining that Harry would crash in his quarters that night after he had a talk with Harry about his actions, and Minerva had been understanding, writing back about how good it was for him to fall into that mentor role for Harry as he had done last year. While Dumbledore and Pomfrey were both informed of Harry's change in guardianship, no other professors had been told for security reasons. Severus still had a role to play should the inevitable happen.

Sitting in his armchair once more, Severus leaned back and rubbed his temples. A flying car—what on earth would Harry come up with next? All he had done was agree to letting Harry spend a couple nights at the Weasley's, and this was what that resulted in? Then the barrier wouldn't let Harry and his friend through? He wondered what on earth would cause a malfunction such as that. He hoped the school year wasn't going to be as exciting as day number one.

Apparently, that was not to be the case. Severus heard many stories from Harry about the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, including Harry's detention that consisted of answering fan mail, which Severus couldn't help but smirk at.

"How fitting for our celebrity," Severus had commented, much to Harry's annoyance.

A week later, Harry visited his quarters for dinner and had told him how Lockhart had released a bunch of pixies on the classroom, then ran out of the room when he couldn't get them under control. Apparently, Miss Granger had managed to immobilize all the pixies.

"If you learn nothing from your new professor," Severus had said then, "perhaps you could learn from each other."

Of course, Severus didn't like incompetency to begin with, not in his students, and certainly not in his fellow coworkers who were supposed to teach the future generation of wizards and witches. Lockhart had attempted to strike up conversations with him on numerous occasions, but Severus always managed to find an escape from the annoying wizard's self-righteous, dramatized adventure stories. There was something about Lockhart that didn't settle right with Severus, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.

When Halloween came around, he was a bit concerned when Harry was not present at the feast, but then chaos erupted when Mrs. Norris was found petrified and words in blood were written on the walls: "The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir beware." Harry was accused of petrifying Mrs. Norris, but Severus came to his defense by stating perhaps he was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Still, Severus did question Harry's whereabouts as he had not been at dinner, and Harry answered something about a ghost party he had attended instead.

Later, Severus reminded Harry on the importance of not missing meals and at the very least, informing Severus if he was going to be somewhere other than what was normally scheduled. Of course, Harry argued he wasn't a baby that needed to be monitored all the time, and Severus threatened to cast a baby monitor spell on him for that remark alone. Since then, conversations with Harry tended to be short and filled with pre-teenage angst that Severus was not sure where it had come from.

And then came that fateful Quidditch day.

Severus stormed through the halls toward the infirmary. Severus kept an eye out for Lockhart, and the professor was lucky he didn't cross Severus's path on the way to the infirmary. He arrived just as the quidditch team left and Pomfrey was giving Harry his dose of Skele-Gro.

"Well, let's see it," Severus said as he stood next to Harry's bed. He crossed his arms and waited.

Harry reached over and lifted his limp arm that moved too much like rubber. Severus narrowed his eyes at the movement, his thoughts construing a thousand ways to make Lockhart's death look like an accident.

"Is this stuff really the only way to make the bones grow back?" Harry asked. "Can't you just spell them back?"

"No," Severus answered. "Did you drink all of your potion?"

"Yeah," Harry answered. "Do I have to stay here tonight though? Can I come sleep in our quarters?"

Severus considered it for a moment, studying Harry intently before shaking his head.

"I don't think that would be wise given you condition. You will stay here until your bones have grown back."

"Oh, come on," Harry insisted, "I'm sure you know everything about this potion."

"The potion, yes. Should your bones grow in the wrong way, then, no. As I said, you are better off staying here where Madam Pomfrey can keep an eye on you. She'll know what to do should something go awry."

"She seemed pretty confidant this would do the trick," Harry said. "I'm sure nothing will go wrong."

"That's enough, Harry," Severus said, growing annoyed at his son's persistence. "I said no. You will stay here, and that's the end of it."
"Fine," Harry said, leaning back in his pillow and glaring off at the windows looking over the quidditch pitch.

"Watch yourself," Severus warned. "There is no reason for the disrespectful behavior."

"I don't like sitting in here all night," Harry complained.

"And I cannot get you out of it, so I suggest you make yourself comfortable for a long night. Skele-Gro is not a pleasant—"

"Then why did you bother coming here?"

Severus grinded his teeth for a moment as he glared down at Harry, who glared right back at him. Clearly, the new attitude Harry had adopted as of late was still fogging up the child's judgement. Honestly, he had been genuinely concerned for Harry, and this was what his thanks was? Nothing but pushback and complaints? He clenched a fist at his side for a second before relaxing and taking a deep breath.

"My apologies for worrying," Severus said through his teeth, and Harry had the decency to at least look guilty. "And I suggest you abandon this attitude of yours and adopt a new one real fast, or so help me, you'll be growing bones and nursing a sore backside tonight."

"You can't," Harry said, his eyes darting around in case any other students were in there as well. "We're in the infirmary."

"Then I suggest you do as I've said."

"Whatever," Harry mumbled, draping his one good arm across his chest. "I'm fine, so you can leave now."

Something snapped in Severus, and he slammed the palm of his hand against the headboard of Harry's bed, just inches away from his son's head. Harry jumped and sank into the bed as Severus leaned forward to whisper sternly.

"You're asking for it, Harry James. I don't know what has gotten into you as of late, but it gives you no reason to talk to me like that or shrug me off. So, unless you want to tell me what is bothering you lately . . ."

Severus trailed off and waited to see if Harry would say anything while he had his little brat cornered, but Madam Pomfrey was not having the interrogation session.

"Severus, that's enough," she said, coming over to them and waving him off. "Not here, please."

Severus gave Harry one last stern look before standing up and walking out of the infirmary at a brisk pace. He needed to rein his temper back in before he really did lose it. He ran a hand through his hair before rubbing at the back of his neck as he continued down the hall, heading for Dumbledore's office to see what became of that bludger that strangely targeted Harry. At least it would give him something else to focus on.

Unfortunately, the bludger was wiped clean of any magical residue, leaving Severus frustrated with the lack of evidence to punish anyone with. That, a student petrified, and his anger with Harry's behavior from the infirmary left him in a pretty foul mood the next day, and his first two morning classes were torture to get through, despite being N.E.W.T.S classes. He decided to skip lunch in the Great Hall and stayed in his office instead, working on grading essays.

There was a knock at his office door, but Severus did not say anything in hopes whoever it was would go away. However, the door opened instead, and there was only one other person it was spelled to open for.

Severus gripped his quill tighter and scribbled scathing marks a bit faster on a poorly written essay.

"Er, hi, Dad," Harry greeted as he shut the door and slowly walked across the office to the desk.

Severus said nothing in return. He kept working on grading.

Harry stepped a little closer, then rubbed at his arm.

"My arm has all its bones back," Harry said. "Madam Pomfrey said it's good as new."

"Obviously," Severus said without looking up from his work.

"I'm sorry about yesterday," Harry tried. "For what I said. I didn't mean it."

"Hmm."

Severus could feel Harry round the desk and pause at his side. He paused in his grading, his quill hovering above the parchment as he waited to see what Harry might do next or say next.

"Are you still angry with me?" Harry asked.

"Whatever gave you that impression?" Severus snapped as he lifted his eyes with a hard glare to meet Harry's. He nearly regretted his comment when Harry's face fell at his look, but he resisted pulling Harry into a hug and, instead, forcefully set his quill down and shifted his chair to focus his attention on Harry.

"I said sorry."

"I do not accept your apology." Severus ignored Harry's look of disbelief. "And I will not until you explain your egregious behavior as of late."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, and Severus had the faintest notion that Harry was stalling especially when Harry averted his gaze from Severus, staring at the ground.

Ever since Severus had talked to Harry about his abilities in Legilimency, Harry had taken to the bad habit of looking away whenever he knew he did wrong, afraid Severus might read his mind, despite his assurances that he would not without Harry's permission. He was sure Harry would realize what he was doing and grow out of it, especially as Severus stayed true to his promise, but for now, this habit worked in Severus's favor.

"You know exactly what I mean," Severus said. "Since Halloween night, you have been irritable and snappish, at least toward me, and I would like a good reason why."

"I don't know," Harry answered, shrugging his shoulders.

Severus grabbed Harry's arm and turned him slightly, then landed a hard swat to his bottom.

"Ow!" Harry reached back and covered his bum protectively. "Dad, please, I've just been a little . . . stressed."

"And you think you're the only one in this school who's a little stressed?"

"Bet I'm the only one hearing voices," Harry muttered as he rubbed the sting from his bottom.

"Excuse me?"

Severus was sure he had not heard that last comment right. He let go of Harry's arm.

Harry swallowed, then said, "I first heard it when I had detention with Lockhart. It was a low voice coming from the walls saying something about killing and ripping. But Lockhart didn't hear it, so I thought maybe it really wasn't anything and then I heard it again on Halloween. It said the same things and then I found Mrs. Norris all petrified. I had nothing to do with it, honest, but Hermione said hearing voices wasn't normal and I . . ."

"Didn't think to tell an adult about all of this? Me, in particular?" Severus asked, frowning at Harry.

"I didn't want you to think I was looney and cart me off to Saint Mungo's or something," Harry said.

"No need to fear that; you are quite stuck with me, looney or not. Harry, this is serious. Whatever this voice you are hearing clearly means harm if they are talking about killing, and it could have something to do with the chamber, which could help us figure out what is going on in the school that much faster. You should have told us what you were hearing the night Mrs. Norris was found."

"I know."

"Where do you hear this voice?"

"Just in the walls, I think. I'm not sure. Do you think the voice could be what petrified Creevey? I saw him come into the infirmary last night."

"Perhaps, but I do not know for sure. You should have been asleep anyway."

"I had a visit from that Dobby elf again. He showed up last night. He was the reason the bludger attacked me. Oh, and he blocked the barrier, keeping Ron and I from getting on the train."

"That elf is going to be the death of someone if I don't kill him first," Severus snarled.

"I almost did that for you," Harry joked with a smile. "But he really thought he was protecting me."

"By breaking your arm?"

"He thought if I was seriously injured, the school might send me home."

"More fool him."

"I told him to stop trying to save me or whatever the heck he was trying to do. Hopefully he stops."

"And if he doesn't, I'm paying him a visit. As for you." Severus gave Harry a stern look. "If you hear that voice again, you will tell me immediately and you will tell me where you heard it. Do not under any circumstances pursue it on your own should you hear it again. Can we agree on that?"

"Yes, Dad." Harry tentatively stepped closer to Severus. "And I am really sorry about how I've been acting."

Severus indulged Harry with a hug, knowing exactly what Harry was fishing for. Harry wrapped his arms around his neck as he pulled him into a strong embrace.

"You're forgiven," Severus said, rubbing Harry's back. "Let's try to have a good rest of the year."

Harry nodded into his neck.

Having a good rest of the year did not last two weeks.

The next potions class, a potion ended up exploding on the Slytherin side of the room. A small explosion now and then was to be expected, but this explosion covered nearly half the classroom in a gooey, half-concocted swelling solution. Most of the students were fine, some had small swollen pores, some puffed up lips or club-like arms, but Draco Malfoy and Gregory Goyle had taken the brunt of the hit, and Draco's nose grew to the size of a melon while Goyle's eyes expanded to the size of dinner plates.

Working quickly, Severus gave each affected kid a dose of deflating draught, then sent Draco and Goyle to the infirmary to make sure there were no long-lasting effects from their extreme exposure. Then, after assessing Goyle's cauldron and finding a strange residue in the remaining potion that could not be accounted for a potion ingredient, Severus turned his attention on the rest of his class with a glare.

"Clearly this is sabotage," Severus growled. "Which one of you is responsible for this explosion?"

Everyone shook their head as Severus's eyes roved over all the students, and as his eyes met Harry's, he paused, knowing what game he had to play. Harry shook his head like all the other students had done and met Severus's stare.

You better not look away, boy, Severus thought as he raised a brow at Harry, who shifted uncomfortably.

Then, as if his eyes couldn't handle the intensity anymore, Harry's gaze fell to the floor. He never looked right. He never looked left. His eyes always dropped to the floor.

Severus closed his eyes, disappointment flooding his chest. He opened them after a few seconds and hardened his glare.

"Potter," Severus growled. "My office. Now."

Harry's eyes met his with a look that clearly said he could not believe he was being called out. After a moment, Harry turned the heat off his cauldron, grabbed his bag and collected his book off the desk before leaving his workspace. Once Harry was out of the classroom, Severus used his wand to vanish every potion in every cauldron.

"Due to unfortunate circumstances," Severus said, "you will all redo this potion at your next potions lab."

There were several cries of protest and awes, but everyone took that as their cue to gather their things and head out of the classroom. Severus waited until the last student scrambled out before he stormed to his office, his robes billowing behind him. He couldn't believe Harry would do something so reckless. Where was that boy's head at that he thought causing an explosion in a potion's lab would be a fun experiment? He was going to beat some common sense into Harry when he got his hands on him. Of all the careless, thoughtless, imprudent . . .

"What in Merlin's name were you thinking?" Severus demanded as he opened his office door, letting it slam behind.

Harry jumped out of the chair in front of Severus's desk and stared at Severus with wide eyes.

"I didn't do anything," Harry claimed, shaking his head. "I don't know why you always think it's my fault, but I . . ."

"Do not lie to me." Severus enunciated each word as he pointed a stern finger at Harry, taking slow, purposeful steps toward him. "Why did you cause an explosion in the classroom?"

"I didn't . . ."

"Harry," Severus scolded.

"I promise, it wasn't me. Why do you always think it's me?"

Once Severus was close enough, he snatched Harry's wrist, startling Harry, but all Severus did was mutter a few words under his breath. He watched with satisfaction as Harry's hand turned a red color. Harry looked up at him with an anxious look.

"A contamination reveal spell," Severus said as if lecturing about a new fascinating potion ingredient, "very useful in finding out what contaminants might have polluted your potion, but also helpful in finding cheeky little brats who think blowing things up are fun. Blue for poisons, yellow for blood, green for toxic plants, and red . . . for explosives. Firecracker, perhaps?"

Harry yanked his hand out of Severus's grip and stared at his hand, watching the sunburnt red color slowly fade away. He glanced up at Severus apprehensively.

"Question remains," Severus continued as he studied Harry, "why?"

Harry looked back at his hand which was now back to normal, then looked back up at his father, but he didn't say anything, his lips drawn together tightly in a thin line, his eyes looking anywhere but at Severus's own eyes.

"I'd really hate to have to use Legilimency on you, young man," Severus said.

"You promised you wouldn't," Harry said quickly, backing up a couple steps.

"You're right," Severus agreed. He slowly stepped forward, closing the distance between them once more. "Unless I feel you are putting your life in danger, and if you feel the need to blow up my classroom, my, Harry, you must be either very ill or you're hiding something that is very dangerous. So, I suggest you tell me what you are up to this instant or I will be forced to resort to such measures."

Severus reached out and grabbed Harry's chin, angling his head up and forcing Harry to look at him directly. He held Harry's gaze but did not use his magic. He was very willing to wait this one out, no matter how long it took.

At first, Harry tried to stare back as if to prove he had nothing to hide. Severus tsked lightly.

"Do not make me change my mind about when I use my Legilimency on you. I'd like to think that you trust me enough to at least be honest with me."

"I do," Harry whispered. He was silent for another few seconds, his eyes darting off to the side before staring back at Severus's. He took a deep breath, then said, "I think Malfoy knows something about the Chamber of Secrets. I was going to brew Polyjuice potion to sneak into Slytherin house and find out."

"Polyjuice?" Severus raised a brow at that. "And how would you know where to even begin with such a complicated potion?"

Harry remained quiet. It told Severus everything he needed to know though.

"I see. More incriminating acts on behalf of the other members of the Golden Trio. I take it the firework was a distraction so one of you could steal the necessary ingredients for the potion?"

Harry nodded in a defeated manner.

Severus lowered himself until he was nearly nose-to-nose with Harry, not letting up on Harry's chin the slightest.

"Do you have any idea how dangerous Polyjuice is if incorrectly brewed?" Severus demanded. "How easy it is to make one small error that could blow up in your faces or worse—eat you from the inside out should you actually consume it? That's assuming you made it past the first three steps. Do you have any idea how foolish this idea of yours and your little friends was?"

Harry shook his head miserably, a few tears escaping his eyes.

"Not to mention stealing from me," Severus said, tightening his hold on Harry's chin briefly, making Harry wince. "Blowing up a potion in my classroom? While I'm teaching? You know better, Harry James Potter-Snape. I am so very disappointed in you."

"I'm sorry," Harry said softly.

Severus let Harry go and straightened himself.

"You, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger have detention with me for the next month for this asinine plan you all concocted."

Harry dropped his head against his sternum, probably more upset about exposing his friends and them being punished than for himself, Severus was sure.

"For your information," Severus continued, "Mr. Malfoy knows no more about the Chamber of Secrets than you do. He is a child, just like you. What more did you expect him to know?"

Harry shrugged.

Severus hmphed, then turned toward his desk, walking behind it, and pulling his chair out.

"Again, we return to the topic of thinking before acting, something you continue to have trouble with." Severus sat down and crooked his finger at Harry. "Perhaps our last session didn't leave a big enough impression."

"No, Dad, honest, it did," Harry said quickly, finding his tongue once more.

"And yet, here we are. Come here. Now."

Resigned to his fate, Harry slowly walked over to Severus, his eyes spilling with more tears.

"Robe off, trousers down," Severus instructed.

Harry gave Severus a pitiful look as he slipped out of his school robe, then pulled down the trousers of his uniform as far as they needed to go. He allowed Severus to drape him over his knees, then Severus pulled down his son's shorts and brought his hand down sharply over the bare bottom.

Harry squirmed almost immediately, yelping and apologizing, but Severus held him firmly and delivered a sound twenty over his son's wriggling bottom that turned a dark pink. Severus lifted Harry off his lap, pulling Harry's shorts and trousers up simultaneously as he did so, eliciting a hiss from Harry.

Lifting his son into his lap, Severus pointed a stern finger at Harry.

"Now you leave the Chamber of Secrets alone," Severus said, glaring for extra measure. "I do not need to wake up one morning and find you petrified."

"You won't," Harry said, wrapping his arms around Severus's neck and sobbing into his father's shoulder. "I promise."

"You know exactly what to expect if you disobey." Even as he said it, he wrapped his arms around Harry and squeezed him to his chest, carding a hand through Harry's hair and scratching at his scalp gently. He held Harry silently as he waited for the child to calm down, and it took several minutes before Harry's sobs turned into small hiccoughs. He offered a handkerchief for Harry to clean up his face when he seemed a bit more pulled together, and Harry wiped at his face as he leaned against Severus's shoulder.

"When you are ready, I want you to go find your friends and tell them I would like to have a word with them. And to bring back my missing ingredients."

Harry's cheeks flushed.

"Can't I just tell them they have detention with you?"

"You may. But I would like the honor as well. When you're ready."

Severus patted Harry's back, and Harry sighed and reluctantly slid off his father's lap.

"I really am sorry," Harry said. "We just thought that since Malfoy . . ."

"I'm sure I can figure out what you kids thought," Severus said. "But if Mr. Malfoy was truly the heir of Slytherin, do you think you would be the first to know of it?"

"I guess not," Harry agreed reluctantly.

"Trust me, the Slytherin family tree is not so extensive, but it does have missing faces. The rest of the staff and I are doing our best to fill in the missing puzzles to solve this and find out what is happening with the Chamber. Do not concern yourself with it. I cannot lose you."

Severus brushed a lock of hair out of Harry's face. Harry nodded in understanding.

"Okay. I understand. But what if I hear the voice again?"

"As I've told you, come directly to me. We will work on tracking it down together. And Harry?" Severus waited until Harry's eyes met his. "You're forgiven."

Harry smiled at that, then grabbed his bag and threw it over his shoulder, sneaking a quick rub at his bottom.

"Remember, find your friends and send them this way."

"Okay," Harry said with a sigh.

Severus smirked as he watched Harry sulk out of his office. Naughty, insolent, little brat. Where do these kids get their ideas from these days? Polyjuice potion, why Polyjuice, of all the potions on the planet? Severus shook his head as he rolled his chair back to his desk, picking up his quill to continue grading. That child was going to put him in an early grave if he kept up with stunts like this.

Chapter Text

Severus could not believe he had been talked into running a dueling club with Lockhart, of all professors. Why not Flitwick? He would have been an excellent professor to teach the children, a formidable opponent, but no. Since Lockhart had proposed the idea, he was given lead on running the class. And Severus had been forced to volunteer as second hand. Well, not forced. Politely asked by the headmaster in front of all the other professors to assist Lockhart in handling the students and making sure things did not get out of hand. It was hardly a question so much as a request.

               He assisted in vanishing the tables in the Great Hall and transfiguring a temporary stage for demonstrations. He sighed as he found a place in the back of the room to lean against the wall and watch as students flooded into the room, everyone holding their wands and excitedly looking around as they waited for the room to fill up. He spotted his son and watched Harry and his friends walk in, eagerly taking in the new sights.

               Then Lockhart walked on stage.

               Severus rolled his eyes.

               Lockhart was wearing extravagant deep plum robes and he waved his arms around, encouraging everyone to move closer.

               “Gather around, gather around!” Lockhart said. “Can everyone see me?”

               Everyone shuffled closer and nodded eagerly, clapping their hands, and waiting to see what Lockhart would say next.

               “Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little dueling club to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on many occasions.”

               Severus narrowed his eyes at Lockhart. What a self-righteous, piece of . . .

               “Now let me introduce my assistant, Severus Snape,” Lockhart said.

               Assistant? Severus nearly growled under his breath. He curled his upper lip in distaste as Lockhart’s next words.

               “He tells me he knows a bit about dueling himself,” Lockhart continued, “and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, don’t worry everyone. You’ll still have your potions master when I’m through with him.”

               Oh, I’m so terrified, Severus thought as he pushed off the wall and started walking up on the stage. He met Lockhart halfway on the stage. Lockhart bowed with flair and much twirling of his hands while Severus merely jerked his head irritably. Then, he raised his wand like a sword, mirroring Lockhart who did the same.

               “As you can see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position,” Lockhart said. “On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course.”

               “I wouldn’t bet on that,” Severus heard Harry mutter to his friends, and he couldn’t help the small smirk.

               Lockhart began counting, and when he got to three, Severus wasted no time in shouting, “Expelliarmus!” and in a dazzling flash of scarlet light, Lockhart was blasted off the stage and flew into a back wall, sliding in a sprawl on the floor.

               Severus crossed his arms and waited, trying to ignore the mix of cheers and cries of alarm from the students. He watched as Lockhart rose unsteadily to his feet, his wavy hair standing on end. He glared as the man began smiling and nodding at the students.

               “Well, there you have it!” he said, tottering back into the platform. “That was a Disarming Charm. As you can see, I’ve lost my wand—ah, thank you, Miss Brown—yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don’t mind me saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you, it would have been only too easy. However, I felt it would be instructive to let them see . . ..”

               Severus’s glare had deepened as Lockhart blathered on about the demonstration, and Severus used his Legilimency to send several images of Lockhart blasting off the stage again if he didn’t shut up and move on. Message was clearly received as Lockhart paled then changed the topic quickly.

               “Enough demonstrating!” Lockhart said. “Time to put you students in pairs to practice the Disarming Charm. Professor Snape, if you’d like to help me.”

               Most of the students began pairing themselves up and their group was merely approved by Lockhart or Severus as they moved through the crowd. Severus narrowed his eyes at the Golden Trio, quickly changing direction to stop their foolish pairing.

               “Fix your wand yet, Mr. Weasley?” Severus asked as he approached the students, startling all three of them.

               “N-no, sir,” Ron said softly, hiding his wand behind his back as if to conceal just how messed up his wand really was.

               “Perhaps it would be best if you sit this one out,” Severus suggested in a tone that was clearly a demand not a request.

               “Yes, sir,” Ron said glumly, stepping back.

               “It seems you need a partner, Mr. Potter,” Severus said.

               Harry glanced at Hermione, but Severus shook his head. A lesson like this needed full willingness to knock your opponent off their feet, not play tug of war with a friend’s wand.

               “I don’t think so,” Severus said. “Mr. Malfoy, come over here. Let’s see what you make of the famous Potter. Miss Granger, you can partner with Miss Bulstrode.”

               As the two Slytherins in question strutted over to Harry and Hermione, Harry gave Severus an annoyed look, which Severus ignored as he walked away, joining Lockhart on the stage once more so he had a clear view of all the students should anything happen. He had a feeling that all these kids were not going to follow the order of disarming only, and he kept his wand ready to put an end to any tomfoolery.

               “Wands at the ready!” Lockhart called. “When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponents—only to disarm them—we don’t want any accidents. One . . . two . . . three!”

               Naturally, no one did as they were told. Severus sighed as he watched chaos unfold all around the Great Hall, all sorts of jinxes and hexes flying all over the place, many students falling over or succumbing to tickling, dancing, and even inflating charms. Honestly, what had Albus been thinking approving Lockhart to run a dueling club? Flitwick would have been a far better instructor, and no one would have disobeyed his orders. Not that Severus would allow this either.

               “I said disarm only!” Lockhart yelled, but he seemed unsure what to do to cease the madness.

               “Finite Incantatem!” Severus shouted, waving his wand in a big circle at the room. All the charms cancelled, and the students turned their attention to the teachers once more, who both stepped down from the platform to assess the damage. Severus fixed up swollen noses, small cuts, and even bat-wing ears on a few students.

               “I think I better teach you how to block unfriendly spells,” he heard Lockhart say, and he glanced in the wizard’s direction.

               Who’s doing the blocking? Severus thought in his head, and he couldn’t help the smirk. Lockhart quickly looked away, and much to Severus’s disappointment, looked for students to demonstrate.

               “Let’s have a volunteer pair. Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you two?”

               “A bad idea, Professor Lockhart,” Severus said, stalking over toward Lockhart. “Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spells. We’ll be sending what’s left of Finch-Fletchley up to the hospital wing in a matchbox.” Severus did not miss Neville’s blush at his words. “Might I suggest Malfoy and Potter?”

               “Excellent idea!” said Lockhart, gesturing Harry and Draco onto the platform.

               While Lockhart spoke with Harry, probably failing to properly perform a blocking charm, Severus decided his side was supposed to throw the hexes for Harry to block. Well, wouldn’t this be fun. He’d need something harmless, of course, something easy to clean up with minimal damage, it was his adopted son after all. As Draco came up to his side, he leaned close and whispered in Draco’s ear.

               “You know the snake summons spell, don’t you?” he asked.

               Draco smirked and that was all the answer Severus needed. It was a fairly useless spell for most wizards but could be startling and unexpected. And Severus could just as easily banish the snake should Harry fail to conjure a blocking charm. Of course, that was assuming Lockhart was teaching it correctly. And if Harry’s anxious face was anything to go by, Lockhart was not teaching it correctly at all.

               “Professor, could you show me that blocking thing again?” Harry asked.

               “Scared?” Draco muttered so Lockhart didn’t hear.

               “You wish,” said Harry out of the corner of his mouth.

               “Just do what I did, Harry,” Lockhart said merrily, cuffing Harry’s shoulder slightly.

               “What, drop my wand?” Harry asked.

               Severus snorted at that, then watched eagerly as Lockhart counted up to three.

Draco raised his wand quickly and bellowed, “Serpensortia!”

The end of his wand exploded. Harry watched, aghast, as a long black snake shot out of it, fell heavily on the floor between them, and raised itself, ready to strike. There were screams as everyone backed swiftly away. The snake seemed more confused than anything else as it swayed, looking around for any threats.

No blocking charm, Severus noted with little surprise. Although Draco had not managed to fling the snake far enough toward Harry anyway to need one, which he figured as much. Severus started walking forward.

“Don’t move, Potter,” he said. “I’ll get rid of it for you.”

“Allow me!” Lockhart shouted.

Oh no. Severus bared his teeth as Lockhart brandished his wand at the snake and there was a loud bang. Instead of vanishing, the snake flew ten feet into the air and fell back to the floor with a loud smack. Enraged, hissing furiously, it slithered straight for the students to its right, raising itself, poised to strike the nearest student—Justin Finch-Fletchley.

Before Severus could lift his wand and banish the snake, a familiar, haunting sound reached his ears, causing a shiver to run up his left arm and down his spine. He gasped slightly and snapped his head in the direction it came from. His eyes widened at the source—the very last person he expected to hear that sound from.

Harry was hissing at the snake, speaking its language, and the snake responded, turning to stare at Harry. Whatever Harry was saying to it, it obeyed, but what Harry was saying was unknown to him and the rest of the student body, though Harry did give an uneasy smile at his friends as if glad about something.

“What do you think you’re playing at?” Justin yelled at Harry.

Harry’s face turned confused.

How on earth was his son a parselmouth? The Boy-Who-Lived with the gifts of the Dark Lord himself. He would have to bring this matter up to Albus as quickly as he could. There was no way such a talent would have been passed down through the Potter line. So how had Harry acquired it? Remembering the snake now lying docile on the floor, Severus stepped closer and waved his wand, vanishing the snake. Harry’s eyes turned to meet his, and Severus involuntarily took a step back as he studied his son, lost in thoughts of what ifs and how’s.

The action did not go unnoticed by Harry, who seemed more alarmed and even hurt. He was motionless, taking in all the stares from the students when Ron tugged on his robe and directed him off the stage. The Golden Trio took off after that.

The Dueling Club was an absolute disaster, but even Dumbledore suggested that with time and practice, perhaps it would run smoother. This was during the next staff meeting later that night after the club had been dismissed, and Severus knew he would not be weaseling his way out of “assisting” Lockhart.  

He half listened to the meeting, his mind wandering to Harry. He wanted to speak to Dumbledore alone about his new findings on Harry’s growing list of gifts, but the meeting went on about new Ministry regulations for the school, new clubs’ students were proposing for the school, and more useless trivia Severus wouldn’t remember in the next hour. Then, Dumbledore mentioned the Chamber of Secrets.

               “We must continue to use caution and be vigilant for anything out of the ordinary,” Dumbledore said. “These threats will not be taken lightly, and we are still working on the cure for those who are petrified. Now, I know Harry Potter seems to be the center of student’s attentions with the chamber, and even some staff members, so we must make sure he is accounted for and where he was accounted for should another student become petrified again. I do not believe he is behind these, but his safety in the school from the other students and staff is of utmost importance. I ask everyone here that if you get wind of another attack and you find Harry, bring him to my office at once.”

               The professors all nodded and gave quiet affirmation before the meeting ended. Severus waited until all the other professors had left before he rose from his seat and spoke.

               “Harry is a Parselmouth, Albus,” he said. “During our dueling lesson, Mr. Malfoy conjured a snake while they practiced blocking, and Harry spoke to it. In Parseltongue.”

               “How peculiar this is,” Albus said, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “The snake reacted?”

               “It responded to him. I’m assuming it did exactly as Harry asked. One minute, it was ready to bite a student and the next, it was just lying there on the ground, completely docile.”

               “And you are sure you heard parseltongue?”

               “I will never forget what it sounds like,” Severus said through his teeth in an almost growling tone. He clenched the muscles of his left arm as a painful throb ran through them in memory of the Dark Lord’s conversations with his beloved, filthy snake.

               “I see.” Albus paced the large conference room. “I must think on this strange connection. As you know, it is very rare for anyone with no relation to Salazar Slytherin to possess the gift of parseltongue, less so those with muggle ancestry. I will look into this. Keep on eye on him, won’t you, Severus?”

               “Don’t I always?” Severus returned with an annoyed look. He left the headmaster to his thoughts and headed to his quarters. Candles were lit as he entered his rooms, as they were charmed to light up when anyone entered. That meant he wasn’t the only one in these rooms.

               “Harry?” Severus called out, stepping up to the boy’s room and knocking on the door. “May I come in?”

               Hearing a muffled “I guess,” Severus opened his son’s door and found Harry lying on his bed facing away from him. Severus sat on the edge of his son’s bed, hesitating for a moment as he considered what to do next.

               “I’m such a freak, aren’t I?” Harry asked miserably.

               “What makes you think that?” Severus asked, surprised at Harry’s statement.

               “I’m a Parselmouth,” Harry explained as if it was so obvious. “I talk to snakes and that’s not even normal in the wizarding world. I didn’t even know I was doing it and now everyone thinks I’m the Heir of Slytherin—”

               “Which is ludicrous,” Severus cut in as he rested a hand on Harry’s shoulder, applying pressure until Harry turned to face him. “You’ve no blood relation to Salazar Slytherin and no one in your family was a Parselmouth, Harry. It is exceptionally rare for someone with no family history to possess the gift you do, but that doesn’t make you a dark wizard by default or a freak.”

               “Even you looked at me like I had grown another head,” Harry said.

               “You caught me off-guard. Of all the ways I expected you to react to Draco’s charm, that wasn’t exactly one of them.”

               Harry was quiet for a moment, studying his father as if searching for honesty in his words.

               “You-Know-Who talked to snakes, too, right?”

               Severus took a deep breath before answering.

               “He did.”

               “Did I remind you of him?”

               Severus frowned as he brushed some hair out of Harry’s face, revealing the scar underneath his fringe. Many things about Harry did remind Severus of the Dark Lord, but the snake language had hit a little closer to home than the image of the scar ever did.

               “The Dark Lord spoke parseltongue on a regular basis,” Severus finally answered. “However, I don’t want you thinking that you will become the next Dark Lord or that you are the Heir of Slytherin. I, and the rest of the staff, can assure you that you are not. I do not know why you have this gift, but don’t be afraid of it. You are not a freak because of it. You did the right thing keeping the snake from attacking anyone. Any gift can be used for good or evil, it all depends on you.”

               Harry seemed a little more relaxed now, and he offered a small smile. Then he sighed and stared up at the ceiling.

               “Still,” he began, “everyone’s talking about me now. They’re all convinced I’ve gone dark.”

               “Let them believe what they want to believe,” Severus said. “You show them the real you, and they will come around again. This is all a matter of bad timing, what with the whole Chamber of Secrets problem and now this.”

               “Tell me about it,” Harry said.

               “Do you want to spend the night here?”

               “And let them all think I’m guilty? No way.”

               Severus chuckled at that, and he ruffled Harry’s hair.

               “Then you better head to your dormitory then, it’s getting late, and the curfew bell is expected to ring soon. Go on.”

               Severus walked Harry out of their quarters, bidding him goodnight before he thought on their conversation. Perhaps this all was really a case of bad timing. Nothing more. Harry couldn’t possibly be the Heir of Slytherin.

               The next day came quickly, and it was relatively quiet and dreary, but a normal day, nonetheless. So, it was a surprise when he saw Minerva marching Harry through the halls later that afternoon. He ran into them as he was on his way to his office, and Harry, looking rather frantic, quickly ran to Severus’s side.

               “Professor!” Harry called out as he quickly left Minerva’s side and jumped to his. He spoke fast and breathlessly. “Please, sir, I didn’t do, I promise. I don’t want to be expelled.”

               “What are you talking about?” Severus snapped. “What is going on?”

               “I am taking him to the headmaster,” Minerva said, frowning in surprise at Harry’s behavior. “As we were instructed at the last staff meeting.”

               Severus’s eyes widened.

               “It happened again,” Severus said, stating aloud more for confirmation.

               Minerva nodded.

               Severus looked down at Harry, who took a few steps back and glared at him.

               “You knew about this? Why didn’t you tell me?”

               “I haven’t had a chance to as I was just informed yesterday,” Severus said. “It’s for your own safety, Potter.”

               “I didn’t do anything!” Harry yelled. “I’m not getting expelled for this.”

               With that, Harry took off down the hall.

               “Mr. Potter!” Minerva called, starting off after him.

               “Allow me, Minerva,” Severus said, holding a hand up to stop her advancements. “I’ll take him to the headmaster when I find him. I know you have a class in five minutes.”

               “Thank you, Severus,” Minerva said. “He usually responds to you so well. I’m not sure what’s gotten into him.”

               An overdue bottom warming, that was what, Severus thought, but he kept those thoughts to himself and merely inclined his head at his colleague.

               “I am not sure, but I’ll get to the bottom of it.”

               The two professors parted ways and Severus followed in the direction Harry had run off in. He pulled out his wand and performed a locator spell, following it down the halls and up the stairs. He realized it was taking him to Gryffindor Tower, and figuring Harry was already inside behind a password protected portrait, Severus unlocked a door with his wand and stepped into an unused office. Most offices were floo connected, allowing faster travel throughout the school. Grabbing a handful of floo powder, he threw it down.

               “Gryffindor Tower common room,” he announced.

               Stepping out into the common room, his lip curled at all the red and gold decorations that littered the place. Repulsive. Surely Minerva had better taste than red upholstery and gold curtains.

               A few students gaped at his presence, but he glared them into minding their own business as he moved toward the boy’s dormitories. They were labeled by year, so he found the second years’ and opened the door without so much as a knock.

               Harry was lying on his bed fiddling with a snitch but sat up quickly when he realized who was entering.

               “How did you get in here?” Harry asked, shuffling on the bed so his back was to the headboard.

               “I’m a professor, not to mention a head of house,” Severus said as he marched up to Harry’s bed and dragged Harry off it. He quickly landed two hard swats to Harry’s bottom. Harry quickly covered his mouth with a hand to keep from crying out, and his eyes watered. “How dare you run away from two of your professors!”

               “Someone could hear,” Harry whispered through his teeth as he tried to pull away from Severus. His eyes scanned the room, but there were no other dormmates around.

               “Perhaps a little humiliation will do you some good,” Severus growled. “Do you know how humiliating it is for me to have to chase you through the halls, all the way to your dormitory, just to drag you out and finish the task you should have finished with Professor McGonagall?”

               “I didn’t do it,” Harry reiterated.

               “No one said you did. You still have to see the headmaster and explain to him where you were and what happened. This was arranged with your safety in mind. We are trying to see if there is any pattern to these attacks while also making sure you don’t end up attacked yourself. And if you know what’s good for you, you will come with me to the headmaster’s office this instant.”

               Harry rubbed at his bottom briefly as he sniffed and looked down, avoiding Severus’s stern face.

               “I’m not being expelled?” he asked.

               “No, that was never the intention.”

               “Oh.”

               “Oh, indeed. Now come. We’re late as it is.”

               Severus grabbed Harry’s upper arm and dragged him out of his dorm. Harry didn’t resist, but he kept his head lowered to avoid making eye contact with anyone in the common room. After this, Severus was sure he would never run off on him again. Sometimes, a little humility did wonders; whether others agreed with the tactic or not mattered little to him.

               Severus used the floo to deliver them to an office closer to the headmaster’s office. Severus pulled Harry up to the large gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the office.

               “Lemon drop,” Severus snarled bitterly, and the gargoyle smirked before hopping aside as the wall behind him split into two. Behind the wall was a spiral staircase that was moving smoothly upward, like an escalator. Harry gasped in awe. While Severus had floo’d him in and out of Albus’s rooms before, he had never used the staircase, and Harry found it very fascinating.

               “Well?” Severus encouraged, pushing Harry’s shoulder forward some. “Go on.”

               “You’re not coming with me?” Harry asked, his excitement about the staircase withered.

               “He just wants to see you for a moment,” Severus said. “You hardly need me to see you all the way through. Go talk to him, and I’ll be waiting right here when you come back down.”

               Harry swallowed dryly then took a brave step on to the stairway, glancing back as the walls closed behind him and the gargoyle jumped back to its original place. Severus let out a slow breath as he rubbed his temples. This school year was turning into a very long one. He wished he knew what was behind the Chamber of Secrets. He knew Lucius had something to do with it after his brief conversation with that delusional elf, but he had yet to make any connections yet. Perhaps Albus had a few ideas he would run by him if he asked. Severus leaned against the gargoyle. Perhaps he’d save those questions for another time.

               For now, he would wait for Harry to come back down.

               He did say he’d wait for him after all.  

Chapter Text

Severus glanced over at the gargoyle as it sprang alive and jumped to the side, revealing the staircase behind it, and Harry, who slowly stepped off the moving stairway and into the hallway. Severus pushed off the wall and walked over to his son.

               “Took you long enough,” Severus commented.

               “Professor Dumbledore’s bird caught on fire,” Harry said as he quickly fell into step at Severus’s side, walking next to him down the hallway.

               “About time. I’ve been wondering when that old thing would keel over.”

               “Hey, that’s not nice,” Harry frowned up at his father, then tilted his head as he considered the situation. “Well, I guess you knew it would come back to life. Do phoenixes ever die die?

               “Pardon?” Severus asked with a frown as he glanced down at Harry.

               “You know what I mean. Like permanently die and not rise out of its ashes again. Maybe if it gets old enough or if something kills it?”

               “I don’t think phoenixes ever die for good but don’t quote me on it. Now.” Severus paused in the hallway and stared down at Harry, who paused next to him. “What did the headmaster tell you?”

               “Just that he doesn’t think I’m behind the petrifications.” Harry hesitated, then glared up at Severus. “You told him about the voices.”

               “Yes,” Severus confirmed as he raised a brow.

               “Well . . . maybe I didn’t want him to know.”

               “Don’t be ridiculous, why wouldn’t I tell the headmaster of your peculiar gift. Obviously, you can hear something the rest of the school cannot, and that information may or may not be linked to what is happening in the school right now. Of course, I told him about the voices you’re hearing. It would be irresponsible of me not to.”

               “You could have told me you told him.”

               “Not everything I do will fall on your ears. The headmaster needed to be privy of any strange occurrence happening in the school, and your problem is a strange occurrence. Of which, have you heard any more voices recently?”

               “Not really,” Harry mumbled.

               “That would be a yes or no answer to the question.”

               “No.” Harry rolled his eyes.

               “Mind your attitude.” Severus narrowed his eyes at Harry before his face softened as he eyed his son with a concerned look. “You’re being honest with me?”

               “Yes, sir. I haven’t heard any voices. What’s it matter anyway? What if it’s all in my head and has nothing to do with any of the petrifications?”

               “You and I both know how unlikely it is that the two are unrelated, but we will deal with your problem when the situation presents itself accordingly, which will be the next time you hear the voice. And you will report directly to me at that moment, regardless of where you are at.”

               “Even in class?”

               “Even in class,” Severus repeated. “Even if its in the middle of the night, and if that happens you will use the floo to come directly to my quarters. The floo has been set up with a temporary password for this situation for you alone. The password is “fortis,” and after you say it, you will announce your destination as Snape’s quarters. Do not wander the halls at night, especially if you are hearing something you cannot see, is that clear?”

               “Yes, sir,” Harry said.

               “I mean it, Harry. You will not run headlong into danger seeking out whatever it is you are hearing. You will report to me immediately or to another teacher and failure to do so will result in severe consequences.”

               “I know,” Harry drawled out before adding a quick, “sir.”

               Severus gave a curt nod then started walking again, Harry quick to follow behind him. They headed for Gryffindor Tower, Severus keeping an eye out for any students meaning harm toward Harry. With the state of fear the castle was in, he would not be surprised if students decided to break the rules of no wand waving outside of class to defend themselves against the supposed Heir of Slytherin. Nothing exciting occurred during the short trip to the tower, though waiting outside the entrance, sitting on the cold floor with books cradled to her chest, was Giovanna, Harry’s first year friend from their hometown.

               “You’re late,” Giovanna said as she stood up. “You were going to help me with my potions essay this afternoon, remember?”

               “Ah,” Severus smirked, “a date with your girlfriend?”

               “Dad,” Harry hissed through his teeth. “We’re just friends.”

               “Yeah,” Giovanna agreed with a sly smile, “besides, I could do better.”

               “Yeah, she could—hey!” Harry glared at Giovanna's smirk.

               “You may help her with her essay but do not give Miss Bassani all the answers,” Severus said, falling quickly back into lecture mode. “I expect all my students to do the work themselves and actually learn from their homework.”

               “Yes, sir,” Harry and Giovanna said before the starting walking off for the library, chatting amiably about favorite classes so far and plans for the holidays.

               With a satisfied nod of his head, Severus turned and headed for his office, ready to research what he had learned so far about the Chamber of Secrets reopening. He wanted to solve this mystery before any more students fell victim to the petrification curse going around.

               “Where have you been?” Severus asked through clenched teeth as he stood blocking the entrance to the castle, ignoring the chilly night air as he glared at the two boys approaching the doors. He sneered at their mud-dusted robes and Ron’s shaky demeaner, crossing his arms over his chest and showing no signs of stepping aside to allow the boys to pass into the castle. Harry and Ron paused just a few feet in front of him, visibly gulping.

               This was the last thing Severus wanted to deal with: two miscreant children way out of bounds. With Dumbledore suspended, Hagrid arrested, and McGonagall taking over as acting headmistress, Severus had far too much on his plate in assisting where he could in managing the students. It did not escape his attention that Harry and Ronald were missing at dinner that night, and he had spent the better part of his evening searching for the two brats, and here they were, strutting up to the castle from heaven knows where.

               “Uhh, we were just . . .” Harry started stammering.

               “Not following spiders,” Ron said with a white face.

               Severus narrowed his eyes at the boys.

               “Funny, Ron,” Harry said with a shaky smile in a weak attempt to cover up whatever it was they were hiding. “We were going to visit Hagrid, but he’s gone now so we’re just going to head to bed now.”

               “Yeah, I could sleep forever,” Ron added with a smile of his own.

               “Oh, but of course,” Severus said, throwing a fake smile himself. “I wouldn’t want to impede on our hero’s beauty sleep, or that of his loyal subjects.  Might I suggest a spot of evening tea to help you relax before you two slumber—in my office. Now.”

               The two boys ducked past Severus and into the castle, quick to obey. Severus followed behind the boys at a brisk pace as they practically ran to his office, pausing outside the door and waiting for Severus to unlock it with a tap of his wand to the doorknob. Once inside, two chairs magically appeared in front of Severus’s desk, and Harry and Ron planted themselves into a seat with apprehensive looks. Severus wasted no time as he closed the door a bit loudly behind him and rounded on the kids.

               “Do you, gentlemen have any idea what time it is?” Severus demanded as he moved to stand in front of the boys, leaning back against his desk. “Well let me inform you that is well past curfew and you two should have been in your common room before the bell sounded. I have been looking for you since the start of dinner this evening and believe me when I say that if Professor McGonagall did not have the whole school to fuss over, she would have been pacing with worry searching for you boys as well. Unfortunately for you, you’re stuck with me, and no one is leaving this office until I get the truth from you. Where were you?”

               Harry and Ron found the top of their shoes very fascinating at this moment.

               “Answer me,” Severus growled.

               “We were visiting Hagrid,” Harry said softly after a few long seconds of tense silence. “But then Fudge, I mean, Minister Fudge showed up and arrested Hagrid.”

               “Students have not been permitted to roam freely as of yet,” Severus reminded, “nor are you allowed outside unless it is for a class or if you are under the direct supervision of an adult. Do you think we make these orders to hear ourselves talk? No. Until we get a handle on the Chamber of Secrets situation, you are expected to go nowhere else but your dorm, classes, and the Great Hall for meals. Absolutely nowhere else.”

               “Yes, sir.” Harry and Ron said at the same time.

               “Furthermore, Hagrid’s departure was two hours ago,” Severus said slowly, watching with satisfaction as Harry and Ron’s faces blanched even more. “So I’ll ask once more. Where were you?”

               Harry and Ron shared a look.

               “Well,” Ron started, “we were going to ask Hagrid something and . . .”

               “We thought maybe there was something in his hut that might give us a clue,” Harry finished when Ron stammered off. “We wanted to know about . . . err . . .”

               “Spiders,” Ron squeaked out.

               “What about spiders?” Severus asked, remembering Ron’s remark on “following spiders” earlier.

               “About why they’re running away from the castle,” Ron said in a way that almost sounded like a question.

               “I see. And did you find your answer?”

               “No,” Ron said in a similar way.

               “Why are you both so filthy?” Severus fired another question at the redhead. “Surely Hagrid’s hut, as disastrous as it may be, isn’t filled to the roof with mud?”

               “Well . . .”

               “And why take the long way back to the castle from Hagrid’s hut? Surely the cobblestone path is a more direct route to the school and safer I presume.”

               “It is, but . . .”

               “It wasn’t Hagrid,” Harry suddenly said. “He shouldn’t be in prison for this. It’s not his fault. He didn’t open the chamber.”

               “Of course, he didn’t, don’t you think the professors know that?” Severus snapped at Harry.

               “But then why—?”

               “Why was he arrested? Because we still do not have another suspect and parents outside of the school are panicking, and with every reason to. If not for the actions of the Ministry, this school would have already been permanently shut down. Not that I disagree with a temporary closure at this point, but that is beyond my control. What we are dealing with is serious and clearly life-threatening, and the last thing we need are two wayward students running around asking to be petrified.”

               “We weren’t asking for it,” Harry argued, “we’re trying to stop them. We thought Hagrid knew what the monster might be, and he told us to follow the spiders.”

               “And did you?” Severus already knew the answer to his own question, but he wanted to hear Harry confess to his wrongdoings. A sense of fear fell into his stomach like a block of ice, but he could clearly see Harry unharmed in front of him, so he tried to push the feeling away. He knew exactly what type of spiders lived in the forest.

               “Yeah, and Hagrid did have a monster, a spider, but it didn’t kill anyone. It said it fears the real monster and that it can’t even speak its name. So Hagrid is innocent. We have to tell Minister Fudge so he can release Hagrid from prison.”

               “The minister is not going to believe the words of a child much less information that came from a spider. Where exactly did you follow the spiders to?”

               Harry’s mouth snapped shut and he glanced at Ron before looking down at his shoes again. Ron was avoiding eye contact with Severus as well.

               “Err, not far from Hagrid’s hut,” Ron tried. “Just like a little into the forest.”

               “You mean the forbidden forest?” Severus reiterated.

               Ron swallowed audibly.

               Severus dragged a hand down his face tiredly before moving around his desk, scanning his shelves of potion vials, knick knacks, and books.

               “I believe I have all the information I need to appropriately punish you, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley,” Severus said as he found the book he was looking for, a thick tome with a black cover and a thick layer of dust. He blew the dust away, sending a near black puff of particles into the air before he began flipping through the pages. “Unfortunately, with fewer staff than normal, I will have to modify your weeks’ worth of detentions around your schedule so I may resume my evening duties in keeping this school as safe. You have a free period every other day at two, do you not?”

               Harry and Ron nodded solemnly.

               “You will report to my classroom at that time every other day until I say otherwise for your detentions. We’ll see how scrubbing cauldrons and reorganizing the stock room keeps you boys out of trouble.”

               “Yes, sir,” they both said.

               Severus flicked through a few more pages of the book, studying the pages intently before settling on the one he was looking for. He moved in front of the boys and flipped the book around, holding it out for them to read.

               “Potter, if you would do the honors of reading aloud,” Severus said.

               Harry adjusted his glasses and leaned forward.

               “Of the many fearsome beats and monsters,” Harry read, “that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This Snake, which may reach gigantic size, and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken’s egg, hatched beneath a toad. It’s methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eyes shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which it fatal to it.”

               Severus suddenly closed the book sharply, startling the boys.

               “You think that’s the monster?” Harry asked. “A basilisk.”

               “It is a suspicion,” Severus clarified. “Given that when staring into the eyes indirectly leads to petrification rather than instant death, your ability to hear a voice no one else can, and your gift in parseltongue, the professors and I believe we may very well be dealing with a basilisk. We have several plans moving forward to trap it and kill it, but as most studies prove, basilisks only attack humans under the control of a Parselmouth, we are still investigating what or who might be behind opening the chamber to begin with.”

               “I can help you find it,” Harry offered.

               “You will do no such thing,” Severus said with a shake of his head as he crossed his arms. “What an impetuous, absurd idea. You will leave this matter to the trained professionals, young man, or you will not like the consequences I’ll dish out.”

               “But only I can hear it. You’ll never find it without me.”

               “Your pomposity in this matter is nauseating,” Severus commented. He turned his eyes on Ron. “Remember, you will report to my classroom at two to spend your free periods in detention. You are dismissed. Use my floo to report directly to your common room.”

               Ron hesitated, looking back and forth between Harry and Severus. Harry gave Ron an encouraging smile and nod while Severus frowned and pointed at his fireplace.

               “Go, Mr. Weasley. It is late. Professor McGonagall will be made aware of your actions.”

               “Yes, sir. Goodnight, sir.”

               Ron scrambled over to the fireplace, sparing Harry one last concerned look before he flooed to the Gryffindor common room. Once they were alone, Severus had to resist the urge to start smacking Harry for his reckless behavior tonight.

               “Dad, please, I can help find the basilisk and then you and the other professors can get rid of it.”

               “No, Harry, and that’s final. You are not involving yourself with the basilisk, if that is even what we are dealing with. We have too many students petrified already, we cannot risk more being petrified and I for one cannot risk you.”

               “But if only I can hear it, then I have to—”

               “As I’ve told you before, if you hear the voices again, you will report directly to me or to another adult if I am not nearby. That is where your assist ends. You will not chase after this thing. You will not pursue it, trap it, or Merlin forbid, go on some grand adventure to slay it. Is that clear?”

               “Please, I’m just trying—”

               Before Harry could finish his sentence, Severus grabbed Harry’s upper arm and pulled the boy out of his seat, easily turning him around to land five hard smacks on his bottom. Harry hissed sharply and tried to arch out of Severus’s aim, but to no avail. Severus spun Harry around again and glared at his son, putting his face so close to Harry’s that they were nearly nose to nose.

               “I said, is that clear?”

               Harry sniffed, fighting back tears before he glared back at Severus.

               “Yes, sir,” he ground out.

               Severus narrowed his eyes, but he released Harry and leaned back against his desk.

               “I understand your desire to help, but it is far too risky for someone who barely knows a shield charm.”

               “We learned about it in Defense Against the Dark Arts.” Harry said, his voice a bit softer as he rubbed at his eyes, pushing his glasses up slightly, trying to make it seem like he was tired rather than brushing tears away.

               “Yes, with the magnificent Professor Lockhart instructing you,” Severus scoffed. “I’m sure the basilisk will tremble at a magically powerful smile.”

               Harry snorted, letting a short chuckle escape his lips. Severus smiled softly himself, then took in Harry’s actual tired state.

               “Come,” Severus said, directing Harry toward the door that led to their quarters. “It is nearing your bedtime, and you look exhausted.”

               “Can I go up to my dorm?” Harry asked.

               “No,” Severus said. “You and Mr. Weasley have caused enough trouble for one night. Besides, I still want to hear the whole truth about what happened in the forest tonight.”

               Harry jerked to a stop in the doorway. He looked up at Severus.

               “You’re not going to . . . you know . . . are you?”

               “Only if I feel it is absolutely warranted,” Severus answered honestly. Harry winced and didn’t move, and Severus couldn’t help the roll of his eyes. “I’ll keep in mind that I already dished out detentions to you and your partner in crime. Now, get to your room and dress for bed before I decide to take points as well.”

               Harry quickly headed for his bedroom, allowing Severus to close the door behind him. Severus waved his hand at the fireplace, causing a fire to roar to life and light up the room a bit more. He tapped the coffee table and a tea set appeared. He poured two cups, preparing Harry’s with a bit of milk and sugar just as he liked it before he made his own cup with no additions. Once Harry was dressed for bed, he rejoined Severus in the parlor, sitting next to Severus on the couch and grabbing the teacup waiting for him.

               “Thanks,” he muttered softly.

               Severus nodded, then cleared his throat pointedly.

               Harry took a sip of his tea, delaying the conversation.

               “Do not for one second think that this late-night excursion will be ignored,” Severus said.”

               “I don’t,” Harry said. He sighed as he set the cup down. “Before Hagrid was arrested, he told Ron and I to follow the spiders if we wanted answers about the real monster. So we did. I know we aren’t supposed to go into the forbidden forest, but we were just trying to get answers about what was going on in the school. Even Hermione is petrified now. We have to stop it. We took Fang with us.”

               Severus bit back a remark about how useful the cowardly dog was in dangerous situations and allowed Harry to continue is tale.

               “The spiders were crawling toward this huge spider nest where this monster spider lived. I guess Hagrid raised him from an egg and he was accused of being the Slytherin’s monster, but he told us that the monster was born in the school and that when the Chamber was opened, a muggleborn died in a bathroom. He said that spiders fear the monster, which I guess makes sense since spiders have a lot of eyes, and the basilisk can kill by just staring at you. Anyway, he said that while he was Hagrid’s friend, he can’t deny his children fresh meat, hen ordered all his kids to eat us. Ron and I managed to escape with the Ford Anglia we crashed earlier this year. It was like it was alive.”

               “The Forbidden Forest is a very magical place to the point that even charmed objects take on a life of their own if left within the trees long enough,” Severus explained. He took a long sip of his tea before adding, “It is also a very dangerous place with creatures willing to eat young, foolish boys, hence why it is forbidden.”

               “I know,” Harry said quickly. “I was juts trying to help.”

               “By becoming spider food? That is of absolutely no help to anyone.”

               “I was looking for answers.”

               “Answers you could have come to me for.”

               “You don’t tell me anything!”

               “I tell you what I feel is appropriate for you to know. You are twelve years old and my son, Harry, not my employer. And like it or not, there will be times when certain topics are not meant for your ears. I am doing everything in my blasted power to keep you safe and you run straight into the danger, every damn time. What will it take to get through your head that you do not have to be everyone’s hero?”

               “I’m not trying to be everyone’s hero. I’m just trying to help my friend.”

               Severus huffed before drawing in a deep breath through his nose, pinching the bridge of his nose at the same time. He clearly couldn’t break Harry of his hero complex. If only Harry wasn’t such a noble Gryffindor, maybe this conversation would already be over. He let out a slow breath, willing his temper to calm so he could continue a sensible conversation.  

               “There is a difference between helping your friend and being reckless,” Severus said slowly. “Putting your life in danger, getting yourself killed does not help your friend. Furthermore, it proves to me that you cannot be trusted to follow the strict protocols instilled to keep everyone safe in this school nor can you follow simple rules such as staying out of a forbidden location. As of now, you are grounded to these quarters until I can trust you to follow school rules again. You are permitted to class and to the Great Hall for meals, and with special permission you may visit the library, but other than that you will stay in these quarters until I say otherwise.”

               Harry pouted but said nothing.

               “You will also be writing me three feet on what forbidden means, and what locations around this school fit the definition. I expect it complete and handed in to me by tomorrow evening. You better remain on your best behavior, Harry, because any disobedience from you these next couple of weeks will land you over my knees so quickly your head will spin. Do we understand each other?”

               “Yes, sir,” Harry said.

               Severus rested a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

               “I know you are worried for Miss Granger,” Severus said in a softer tone, “but you cannot help her if you end up petrified, or worse, killed over something that could have been prevented. She cannot lose you, Harry. I cannot lose you either.”

               Harry leaned against his father, wrapping his arms around Severus’s chest.

               “I know,” Harry mumbled into Severus’s chest. “I wasn’t thinking about what could happen to me. I just wanted to help Hermione. I’m sorry.”

               “You’re forgiven,” Severus said, planting a kiss on Harry’s head. “I meant what I said. You are staying with me until you prove you can be trusted to keep yourself out of harm’s way.”

               Harry sighed but nodded against Severus. Severus ran a hand through Harry’s hair, then patted his son’s back.

               “It’s time for you to go to bed,” Severus said. “After the night you had, I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

               “Yeah,” Harry agreed, reluctantly pulling away. “Are you mad at me?”

               “I am not. I am just concerned for you and little disappointed in your behavior tonight.”

               “I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to make you lose your trust in me. Will you ever trust me again?”

               “If you behave and follow the rules like you are supposed to, I feel you’ll earn my trust back quite quickly. You can be a pretty well-behaved child when you want to be.”

               “I’m not child,” Harry complained.

               “And you can be an absolute brat when you want to be as well.”

               Harry smiled before standing and stretching with a yawn.

               “Night, Dad.”

               “Goodnight, Harry.”

               Harry headed down the hall to his room, leaving Severus to finish his tea in silence before vanishing the tea things to the kitchens to be washed. Severus couldn’t get the image of Harry running away from ginormous, hungry spiders out of his head, and he checked on Harry twice before he managed to retire to his own bedroom for the night. He wasn’t quite sure how to break Harry of his hero complex, or if he even could, but he knew he could be reliable in the consequences each and every time Harry did something foolish and life threatening. Harry would come to rely on that as well, and maybe he might start thinking twice before charging into the Forbidden Forest following spiders. Just maybe.      

Chapter Text

Staring out the window, a small bird tapped a hard object against the glance before flying away. Severus kept staring out the window, the small distraction pulling his mind away from the conversation taking place before him. The end of the school year had happened so quickly, his brain was still processing everything that had occurred. He tuned out the rest of the world as he stared through the painted glass and out into the sky, the rays of sunlight streaming into the church. It was strange how bright it still was despite the hour.

               “Severus?” Freddy’s voice questioned.

               Severus blinked and looked across the circle over to Freddy, who quirked his brows.

               “Anything you’d like to share this session?” Freddy asked, despite already knowing what Severus’s answer would be, as always.

               “Oh, no,” Severus said, waving a hand at the idea before crossing his arms, his fingers drumming lightly against himself as he stared off once more at a corner of the room.

               “Are you sure?” Freddy pushed. “Looks like you’ve got something on your mind. Getting it off your chest might help you refocus and find your center again.”

               That made sense but Severus was always hesitant to share anything with the group, even if tonight was mostly familiar faces, including Jo Lee and Todd who had been coming regular for as long as Severus. Still, it had been a fairly stressful end of year for himself, and Harry as well, and the events had been replaying in his head since he had left the school for summer break. Maybe sharing the experience with the thirteen people there tonight would help get everything off his chest and lift the heavy weight off his shoulders. Perhaps they might even have some advice.

               “Okay,” Severus began. “My name is Severus, I am an alcoholic and I’ve been sober for one year and eleven days. Three weeks ago, I nearly relapsed.”

               “Tell us what happened,” Freddy encouraged when Severus hesitated.

               Severus sighed, leaning back in the hard chair before he decided to start from the beginning.

               “There was an incident at the boarding school I work at . . .”

               Severus stepped out of the Great Hall with Harry at his side, who was trying very hard to get out of writing the rest of his punishment essay which was writing about the definition of forbidden and what classified as forbidden in and around the school.

               “It’s long enough, I think,” Harry said as he followed his father down the hall and toward the stairway.

               “Three feet?” Severus asked.

               “Close.”

               “Then it should take you no time at all to finish it so it is exactly three feet.”

               “But I get it. I won’t go anywhere forbidden again. I promise.”

               “What an excellent closure for your essay.”

               Harry rolled his eyes and Severus refrained from scolding as he fought back a smirk. No punishment was meant to be enjoyed after all. There was no reason Harry couldn’t finish the work before bedtime, and with plenty of time to spare for Severus to review it and grade it—if only to further annoy his son.

               Suddenly, a loud announcement overhead asked for all students to report to their dormitories while professors were requested in a certain hallway. Severus looked down at Harry’s concerned face for a second before deciding Harry was better off sticking with him, then began quickly heading where Minerva’s voice requested. As they turned the corner, Severus halted at the sight on the walls.

               “What is that?” Harry asked, stepping closer.

               Minerva McGonagall was already there shaking her head, a hand over her mouth, and her face white.

               Written in blood on the wall was “Her skeleton will lie in the chamber forever.”

               “A student has been taken by the monster,” Minerva said. “Right into the chamber itself. Our worst fear has been realized.”

               “Who was it?” Harry asked, but his question wasn’t answered as the other professors began appearing, looking at the wall.

               “Oh dear,” Pomona said, covering her mouth with both hands.

               “Another message?” Flitwick shook his head at the words. “This is exactly what we’ve been afraid of happening.”

               “Yes,” Minerva agreed. “We will have no choice but to send the students home. This could be the end of Hogwarts.”

               Lockhart cheerily appeared at that moment, strutting down the hall.

               “Sorry,” he said, offering his best smile. “Dozed off. What have I missed?”

               “A girl,” Severus answered for Lockhart, unable to contain a chance to mock the great Defense teacher, “has been snatched by the monster, Lockhart. Your moment has come at last.”

               “My moment?” Lockhart questioned.

               “Weren’t you saying last night that you’ve known all along where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is?”

               “That’s settled,” Minerva added, a small smirk playing on her lips. “We’ll leave you to deal with the monster, Gilderoy. Your skills, after all, are legend.”

               Lockhart’s eyes widened before he smiled and nodded his head.

               “Very well. I’ll just be in my office getting err . . . getting ready.” Lockhart nodded confidently before turning in the direction of his office and speedwalking away.

               “Who was taken, Minerva?”

               “Ginerva Weasley.” Minerva answered. “A headcount was performed during dinner. She was unaccounted for. I went to see if she was still in her dorm when I came across this.”

               Harry gasped, and everyone noticed he was there.

               “It will be okay, Potter,” Minerva said. “We will find her. Perhaps you should head back to your dormitory?”

               “Potter is serving a detention in my quarters,” Severus said, “finishing an essay for me. He will be out of harm’s way there and I will assist you in your search of Miss Weasley.”

               “I can help,” Harry started to say.

               “Absolutely not,” Severus said.

               “It is for the best,” Minerva said. “You need to stay somewhere safe from the monster, Mr. Potter. We cannot risk losing another student.”

               “But only I can hear it, I could really help, I could go with Lockhart—”

               “You will be doing nothing but reporting to my quarters to finish your essay,” Severus said, grabbing Harry’s arm. “Pardon me, Minerva.”

               With that, Severus dragged Harry down the hall toward the stairway leading to the dungeons. He felt Harry tug against his hold, but he did not let up until he made it to his quarters’ door and with a touch of his hand, the door unlocked for him. He dragged Harry in before pushing him deeper into the living room, finally releasing his arm.

               “Please, I can help find Ginny! You need my help.”

               “You’re going to stay in here.” Severus pointed a stern finger at Harry. “If you set so much as a toe out of these rooms, I’ll make sure sitting becomes nothing but a fond memory for you, is that clear?”

               “Why can’t I help? Only I can hear the basilisk and talk to it, maybe I can talk to it and find out—”

               “No.” Severus took a step closer to Harry before pointing to the boy’s bedroom. “Go to your room and work on your essay. The other professors and I will find Miss Weasley. If you are so concerned, you are unable to focus on your essay, you can finish it tomorrow during your free period. Read or play a game or do anything to distract yourself, but do not leave. Is that clear?”

               Harry was silent for a moment as he stared down at his shoes, his fists clenched at his sides.

               “Harry, is that clear?”

               “Yes, sir.”

               Severus nodded before leaving his quarters, shutting the door firmly behind him and activating his alarms to let him know if Harry did leave his quarters.

               “I should have known he wouldn’t stay put,” Severus said, shaking his head at his own mistake. He also should have made sure he had placed some alarms on his fireplace as the emergency floo connection to Gryffindor Tower had still been in effect, and that ended up being how Harry left his quarters. “Would it have been so wrong to lock him in his room?”

               That earned a few chuckles from the group, some clearly understanding having rebellious children.

               “So, Harry took off looking for the missing girl?” Freddy asked.

               “He did. And I was too busy helping the other professors look for her that he managed to get way ahead of us before I even thought about checking in on him and making sure he had obeyed. However, finding the young girl was a top priority and I didn’t want to break away from any progress we made of finding clues to where she may have wandered off. Our school is very large and sometimes, we are surprised by rooms and tunnels we didn’t know about. After an hour or so, I checked back in with Harry, only to discover him missing . . .”

               An hour had barely passed when Severus had a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach and Harry came to the forefront of his mind. He had a feeling he knew why he was suddenly worried about his son as he quickly walked back to the dungeons from where he had been scanning the first floor. Upon arrival, he went right for Harry’s room, praying he was wrong and that Harry was in bed reading or moping even.

               Harry was not in his bed.

               He was not in his room.

               And he was nowhere in the quarters.

               Severus had a moment of bewilderment when he remembered the floo network still had an emergency code to Gryffindor Tower, and he palmed his face for forgetting to set alarms on the fireplace or even disconnecting the Tower.

               “Point me Harry Potter,” Severus hissed through his teeth, pointing his wand at the door of his quarters. The charm had not worked on Ginerva Weasley, which could mean that the chamber was warded against those types of spells. Thankfully, Harry must not be in the chamber as he felt a tug on his wand and he allowed it to lead him through the school.

               He kept his eyes and ears open for any sign or sound of students or monsters as he followed the pull of his wand. It led him to the second floor, toward the flooded girls’ bathroom. He slowed down as he approached the bathroom, peeking inside first before stepping into the bathroom.

               In the center where the sinks had been was a large hole in the ground with a very narrow slide leading to the dark underground. Somehow, Harry had managed to find and open the chamber it would seem. And naturally, instead of alerting a professor of this discovery, he went on ahead to save Miss Weasley.

               He was going to strangle his son when he got his hands on him.

               Severus carefully lowered himself into the hole before sliding down the slide, which was not a smooth ride as it spat him out at the end and he tumbled over rough ground. Standing up, Severus rubbed his shoulder gingerly before taking a good look around.

               So this underground system led to the Chamber of Secrets? He followed the piping and plumbing forward, making his way through narrow turns, a dim lumos lighting the way. He was concerned that if he used any brighter of a light, it would attract the monster right to him, and he wanted to remain as much in the shadows as possible until it was necessary to attack—better yet, ambush.

               Severus followed the turns of the cave and nearly ran right into Ron Weasley.

               “There you are!” Severus growled, his eyes darting around for Harry. “What on earth do you think you’re doing? Where is Harry?”

               “Err . . .”

               “Good evening, good sir,” Lockhart said cheerily as he stepped in front of Severus and enthusiastically shook his hand. “This must be your lovely establishment. Might I commend you on the natural décor and . . . and . . .”

               Lockhart’s words slurred as he wobbled on his feet before he crashed to the ground in a deep slumber from the strong sleeping spell Severus cast upon him.  

               “Oh thank Merlin,” Ron muttered. He glared at Severus as he pointed an accusatory finger at Lockhart. “He tried to obliviate us! Though he’d take all the credit of finding and opening the chamber but he wasn’t even going to try and save Ginny. He was running away when Harry and I stopped him.”

               “Enough,” Severus interrupted Ron. He heard enough of that entertaining story. “Where is Harry?”

               Ron pointed at the collapsed wall.

               “He went on ahead,” Ron answered. “This idiot made the whole tunnel collapse but Harry said he was okay on the other side and would go ahead to save Ginny. I figured I’d try digging a way for them to get back.”

               “If they even manage to get back,” Severus snapped. He looked at the stones blocking the way forward. It would take hours to dig through that and that was way too long to get to Harry. He needed to stop his son’s foolish actions now.

               First, Severus sent his doe patronus off to lead the other professors to his location. Then he used a burrowing charm to tunnel through the rocks while performing several stabilizer charms on the surrounding walls and structures so he didn’t cause further collapse.

               “Brilliant!” Ron exclaimed. “That was a lot easier than digging.”

               “Stay here,” Severus said sternly.

               Ron crossed his arms and pouted as he sat near the sleeping Lockhart.

               Severus carefully stepped through the tunnel and followed the dark passage, braving the hisses and clangs he could hear ahead.

               “I managed to catch up to his friend in a secret chamber under the school,” Severus said, “one we did not know even existed. Apparently, they were separated when a wall collapsed, and Harry had continued on in search of his friend’s sister. After making sure the other boy was unharmed and would stay put, I managed to kick away and work through the rubble to the other side to keep looking for Harry.”

               “That sounds so dangerous,” Jo Lee said, a hand over her chest. :Why on earth would a little girl go down such a frightening place.”

               “She was tricked into doing so,” Severus said. He thought over his next words carefully. “Children can be very cruel sometimes. She did not know any better.”

               “Ugh, the world we live in.” Jo Lee shook her head softly.

               “Did you find Harry?” Freddy asked. “Safe, I presume.”

               “Well . . .”

               As Severus approached a door with several snakes on it, he could hear shouting. Someone was saying “it was too late” before the voice started shooting questions, wondering what someone else was doing. Severus peered through the door and into a large chamber, watching just in time as Harry dug an object into a book on the ground. What looked like a hologram of a young Tom Riddle cried out before fading away. Severus sucked in a breath at the sight of a large serpent half on the chamber floor and half in a pool of water. It appeared dead.

               Ginny was lying on the ground in front of Harry, and her eyes fluttered open. She slowly sat up before conversing with Harry, who looked pale and shaky.

               Severus ran inside the chamber and directly for Harry. Both kids looked up at him, and while Ginny’s color was slowly returning to her pale face, Harry turned whiter, and his trembling was more notable up close, along with his labored breathing.

               Severus kneeled next to Harry and before he could even ask what happened, his eyes found the puncture wound in his arm.

               Severus’s eyes widened as he realized the object Harry was still holding was a basilisk tooth.

               “Did that thing,” Severus asked in a shaky voice, “bite you?”

               “It was just one tooth,” Harry explained. “I managed to stab it with the sword but a tooth got stuck in my arm.”

               Severus spotted the sword and the Sorting Hat sitting a few feet away. He narrowed his eyes at the objects but turned his attention back to Harry, who suddenly fell forward.

“Harry!” Ginny cried.

Severus caught him in his arms, sitting Harry up against his chest. A wave of nausea hit him as his breath caught in his throat and nearly choked him. He grabbed Harry’s arm and studied the wound, which had black seeping veins trailing up Harry’s skin in all directions away from the puncture site. What stopped basilisk venom? What cured it? Damn it, he should know these answers, he should know! Severus closed his eyes as he tried to rack his brain for a cure, his arms tightening around Harry as his son’s breathing became more labored.

Before he could consider the worst happening right in his arms, he felt a brush of feathers around his neck.

Severus opened his eyes and glanced back.
               Fawkes, Albus’s loyal phoenix familiar, was curling around his shoulder and stretching out his neck to get to Harry’s arm before the bird blinked a few tears out of his eyes.

Severus watched with amazement and joy as the tears began to heal the wound, drawing back the venom until the black liquid poured out of the wound. Severus felt intense relief as Harry’s breathing evened out and his trembling slowed down. Ginny smiled in relief as well as Harry managed to produce a smile himself.

“Thanks, Fawkes,” Harry said to the phoenix.

The bird brushed its beak against Harry before flying off. Severus sighed and adjusted Harry against him once more, running a hand through Harry’s hair in the process.

               “Let’s get you two out of here,” Severus said, standing up and lifting Harry with him.

               “I think I can walk,” Harry said, his cheeks burning.  

               “Are you alright, Miss Weasley?” Severus asked, ignoring Harry entirely.

               “I’m okay,” Ginny said, pushing to her feet.

               “Seriously, I think I’m okay now,” Harry said.

               “You still have a serious bite wound that Madam Pomfrey will take a look at, and you should be examined as well, Miss Weasley. Let’s leave this place.”

               Severus carried Harry out of the chamber, making sure to keep Ginny at his side. As they came to where Lockhart had caused the collapse, several other professors were waiting for him on the other side, and they assisted Miss Weasley, Ron, and the still snoozing Lockhart out of the chamber, using spells and charms to levitate everyone out. Severus simply flew out with Harry, waving his wand for show just to hide the fact that he did so without a spell or wand.

               Once everyone had been delivered to the infirmary, Severus left quickly as he felt a heavy weight crush his chest, and he needed to get away and stop the sensation somehow. The walk to the professors lounge didn’t help, and when he still couldn’t breathe, he tried to occlude and focus on deep breathing, but the image of Harry’s near death appearance haunted his mind, and he could not shake it free. His hands began to tremble, his heart raced, and he still couldn’t seem to reconnect with his senses enough to occlude and relax.

               Panicked, Severus paced the kitchen section, wondering what to do now. He was out of control, and nothing was helping to stop this attack. Severus opened the ice box cooler where various food and drinks were charmed to stay cool. Maybe a snack or water to distract himself with and take his mind off . . .    

               There, in the back of the ice box were several bottles of beer.

               Severus took in a couple jerky breaths as he shut the ice box and stepped back, pacing again and running his hands through his hair before striding back to the ice box and opening it, grabbing a beer bottle and setting it down on the counter.

               He leaned back and stared at the bottle. His anxiety did not ebb away. The sight brought on a longing he had forgotten nearly a year ago for something he sought hard to avoid. It had been so long and he desperately needed something to take the images of Harry dying out of his head.
               Severus lunged forward and grabbed the bottle, popping the cap off and raising the glass to his lips.

               He stopped there, the bottle just centimeters away from taking a swig of his first beer in so long.

               Instead, Severus raised the beer above his head and brought it down hard on the countertop.

               The glass shattered, the impact causing even the neck to break in Severus’s hand, and he felt the glass cut his palm. Severus dropped the pieces from his hand, watching unalarmed as blood began to drip from his palm.

               Somehow, the pain worked as a distraction, albeit a poor one. Severus sighed as he summoned a salve for the cut and bandage material. He rinsed his hand under the tap while applying salve to the bandage. He wrapped the salve drenched bandage around his hand and tied it off. He leaned over the sink, taking deep, steady breaths.  

Severus held his head in his hands as he recalled his behavior.

“All I could think about was how close I came to losing Harry in that chamber when the venomous snake bit him. He was so close to death and all I could do was hold him while I rushed him to the infirmary. I was helpless. Useless.”

“Fear is a powerful thing,” Freddy commented when Severus fell silent for a moment. “Especially when it comes to those we love.”

Severus let out a shaky breath as he sat up in his seat before he continued.

“I wanted to drink the fear away until I couldn’t feel it anymore. Until I couldn’t feel anything anymore. I almost did it, too.”

               “But you didn’t,” Freddy reminded, applauding which encouraged the other members to give a short applause. “That deserves praise. Of course, we can work on finding different strategies to use when overwhelmed and the desire hits. That is something many of us have struggled with at one time or another and will most likely struggle with again.”

               “Even though Harry was the reason I wanted to drink,” Severus said, “he was also the reason I couldn’t. I can’t lose him. I just wish I knew how to get it through his thick head that he doesn’t have to be everyone’s hero. He’s going to get himself killed.”

               “But it sounds like he truly cares and means well, doesn’t it? All he wanted to do was help find the missing girl. His intentions should be encouraged but his actions dissuaded when appropriate. Hmm, that’s a tricky one to manage. I do not envy your situation, Severus. A hero complex like that may not have a cure.”

               “Tell me about it.”

               “So, I’m assuming he’s grounded for all eternity for disobeying you?” Freddy asked with a smirk.

               “Oh, yes.” Severus shared a smirk, but then looked down in thought. “Though, at first, I couldn’t bring myself to even look at him.”  

               Severus heard a knock at his office door, but he ignored it, hoping whoever was on the other side would go away. Alas, Harry stepped into the room as the door was still spelled to open for him. Feeling a sense of déjà vu, Severus ground his teeth together as he focused on his lesson plans for next year. He hardly needed to work on them now, but he needed some kind of distraction from his own emotions. It was the second day since he had delivered Harry to the infirmary, and the boy’s arm was healed, but he had avoided having any free time in an attempt to delay the inevitable. He was too afraid he would lose control of his emotions again and say the wrong words to Harry, but he also knew he couldn’t put this off forever.

               He could feel Harry’s presence coming closer yet he refused to look at his child and focused on revising some of his ideas for the fifth years potion labs. Did they really have to have this discussion now?

               Harry waited a moment before he let out an annoyed huff.

               “Really, Dad?” he asked. “You’re doing this again?”

               Severus said nothing.

               “I’m sorry,” Harry tried. “But I had to do something. Ginny was in danger.”

               Severus turned the page of his book and scribbled nonsense on the next page. His thoughts were far away from lesson plans, but he didn’t want to let on to Harry that he was paying him any attention.

               “You can’t keep ignoring me or brushing me off,” Harry growled in frustration, though there was some hurt in his tone. “It’s been two days and I’m going crazy. I’m sorry, okay? I really am.”

               Severus still said nothing as he turned another page in his book. Words were starting to come together in his head and he liked the arguments he was coming up with that would surely make Harry see the error in his ways. Maybe he was ready to deal with this now.

               “You know, you’re supposed to be the adult here.” Harry crossed his arms and gave is best glare. “The silent treatment is really childish.”

               Surely the silent treatment wasn’t that immature, was it? Severus thought as he resisted rolling his eyes.

               “Go ahead,” Harry kept going, his arms dropping to his side as he clenched his fists, “tell me I’m a stupid, reckless, idiot and I deserved the basilisk’s venom almost killing me for not using my dumb brain!”

               Severus turned sharply in his seat and loudly popped Harry on his mouth.

               Harry jumped, gasping as he covered his mouth with both hands, his eyes wide. It wasn’t nearly hard enough to hurt but the sound and mere action had startled Harry. Severus pointed a stern finger at his son.

               “Do not ever speak of yourself in a such a manner again. Is that clear?”

               Harry nodded his head, then lowered his hands and gave Severus a pleading look.

               “I know I shouldn’t have disobeyed you, but I didn’t have a choice. Ginny could have died if I hadn’t done something.”

               “You do realize that you yourself almost died?” Severus asked through clenched teeth, his stern look turning into a glare.

               Harry looked down at his feet, shuffling for a few seconds before he nodded.

               “Yeah, I know. But I didn’t. Fawkes cured me and I saved Ginny too so no one died. It was the only way.”

               “You mean to tell me that you had no time to tell a professor where the entrance to the chamber was once you found and opened it?”

               “It was more of a suspicion at first. We told Lockhart.”

               Severus gave his son a pointed look as he turned back toward his lesson plans, picking up his quill once more.

               “No, Dad, please.” Harry grabbed his father’s arm, preventing him from going back to his work. “Don’t do that again, I’m sorry. Lockhart was a bad choice, and Ron and I kind of knew that when we went to him, but we thought he would at least know how to deal with the basilisk when we found it, even if he couldn’t do it properly himself. We thought he could walk us through it.”

               “With Mr. Weasley’s broken wand?”

               “Well . . .”

               “Your plan was flawed, and you admit that you knew this. The moment you found the chamber’s entrance, you should have told a professor—a competent one. You knew everyone was looking for it.”

               “I didn’t want to waste any time.”

               “So you waste your life? You nearly got yourself killed rushing directly to the basilisk as you did. Do you have any idea what was running through my mind when I found you with a bite wound from that blasted animal? The way you looked—like you were going to drop dead at any second and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Do you have any idea what you put me through?”

               “I’m really sorry . . .” Harry’s eyes watered.

               “But you’d do it again, wouldn’t you? Without a second thought, right off into life threatening danger. You could have been petrified or killed by just a glance, forget the venom it got you with.”

               “Fawkes—”

               “I know! But the risk was still there, Harry. And I had no clue you were even gone from our quarters. I could have lost you the other night.”

               Harry closed his eyes and shook his head, a single tear escaping and trailing down his cheek.

               “You’re always sorry, but it never stops you from chasing death. And maybe it’s a good thing you play the hero so well, but I’d like you to start thinking your actions through before you follow through. You could have run to any other professor but Lockhart for instance.”

               “I know, I just thought . . .”

               “You didn’t think on that thought long enough to realize how ridiculous it was. Did you?”

               “No.”

               “And you disobeyed me and left our quarters after I asked you to stay behind. You could have summoned an elf to give me your message about the chambers entrance. Did you think about that?”

               “You wouldn’t have been able to open it without me.”

               “I could have collected you and the other professors to open the chamber together. Or you could have opened it when you did, and then had an elf come get the other professors. Did you think about that?”

               “No.”

               “No,” Severus repeated. “I could keep going, young man, but I think you get my point. You are a brilliant wizard and I know you can use that brain for more than impulsive adventures. You are smarter than that, Harry, and you need to learn to lead less with your emotions and more with your rationale. I can’t lose you over something so foolish and preventable. I can’t.”

               “I’ll try to do better.” Another tear escaped Harry’s eyes.

               “I know you’ll try, and I’m going to do my best to help you figure it out.”

               Harry swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand before looking down at his feet again.

               “Are you going to . . . err, punish me?”

               Severus leaned back in his chair as he studied Harry for a moment. He had warned Harry after the spider incident that one more toe out of line would earn him dire consequences, and he had given Harry one last threat before he had left him in his quarters before the chamber fiasco. If he was going to teach Harry anything about following through, he would have to lead by example.

               “I did warn you, young man,” Severus said. He raised his hand and summoned the hairbrush from their quarters.

               “No, not with that,” Harry whined, his face grimacing already.

               “For disobeying me and going directly into the Chamber of Secrets after a monster,” Severus said. He pushed his chair back and gestured to Harry. “You more than earned it. I’m sure you know the drill by now.”

               Harry sniffled as he pulled his robe off, unveiling his school uniform.

               “Can’t I keep my trousers up? Please? It’s going to really hurt.”

               “Yes, that is the point. Maybe you’ll remember this one the next time you want to tango with a basilisk.”

               Harry pouted and his lip trembled as he lowered his trousers before allowing Severus to guide him over his lap. Severus pulled down Harry’s shorts as well before raising the hairbrush and bringing it down sharply on Harry’s bottom.

               Harry jumped and hissed through his teeth at the first smack, but Severus barely gave him a chance to register it as he brought the hairbrush down again and again. Harry squirmed the whole way through, and his yelps increased in volume as the spanking continued, and he was apologizing and promising to never misbehave again halfway through.

Finally, when Harry’s bottom was a deep red, Severus set the brush down on his desk table and pulled Harry’s shorts and trousers up before setting his son in his lap, earning a small squeak in protest before Harry wrapped his arms around Severus’s neck, crying into his father’s shoulders.

               “I didn’t mean to scare you,” Harry said through his tears.

               “I know you didn’t. And I hope you never act so recklessly again.”

               “I won’t ever, I promise. And do you promise not to ignore me again?”

               “Pardon?” Severus asked, pulling Harry back slightly so he could see his face.

               “I don’t like it when you give me the silent treatment. I feel like you really hate me and don’t want me around when you do that.”

               “I’m sorry, that was never my intention. Sometimes, I need to gather my own thoughts and keep my emotions in check so I don’t lash out at you, so I choose not to say anything. But if it upsets you that much, I will work on that.”

               “Thanks. And I promise to work on not running into danger as much.”

               “I’m sure you’ll put in a good effort.” Severus kissed Harry’s temple and rubbed his back, hugging his son once more. “Now, did you ever finish that essay I asked of you?”

               Harry groaned but didn’t remove his arms from around Severus’s neck.

               “It took some time for me to get into the right emotional state to deal with Harry’s misbehavior, but we managed to get through it together. He actually came to me a couple times insisting we put it behind us. He generally takes his punishments very well but if I could ground him for all eternity and lock him in his room for that time, I would.”

               As Severus said those last words, he had to admit he did feel a lot better getting all of that off his chest, even if it was just sharing what happened.

               “Well,” Freddy smiled, “I’m glad Harry is still alive to tell us his side of the story.”

               A few members laughed and Freddy looked at his watch.

               “Thank you, Severus, for sharing with us today. Next time we will discuss coping techniques for everyone to review and practice but I’m afraid we are out of time today, but please, everyone feel free to stick around as long as you need, catch up with friends, have some refreshments.”

               As everyone began to disperse, Severus gave Freddy one last goodbye before heading out of the church. Even as he walked, he felt lighter. He stepped out of the church and into the last few rays of light, not surprised to find Harry sitting on the bench outside.

               “All done?” Harry asked as he stood up.

               “Obviously,” Severus commented as he started to walk down the path, Harry walking at his side. “How was your time at the library?”

               “It was fun. Giovanna and I are thinking about becoming the new book club leaders. I saw you talking in there for once. What were you talking about? Me?”

               “Don’t be ridiculous, why would we discuss you? You’re hardly exciting.”

               “Hey. I’m exciting. Remember how I freed Dobby from Malfoy? That was exciting.”

               “I still can’t believe you tricked Lucius Malfoy into freeing one of his own elves. If only I could have seen his face.”

               “I could tell you all about it.” Harry smirked up at his father.

               “You are a very naughty child sometimes.” Severus smiled at his son even as he said it. Harry only grinned up at him and Severus snorted and ruffled his son’s messy hair. He really did feel much better getting everything off his chest. Perhaps he’d open up more often at AA.          

Chapter Text

Escape from Azkaban, the heading on the Daily Prophet read.

With cold, piercing eyes, Severus stared down at the face of an old tormentor holding a prison number in a mugshot, the dim light of the lamp offering little to lessen how dark the look on Sirius’s face was.

How had he broken free of Azkaban, one of the most secure prisons on the planet? It was a shock when Severus learned that Sirius Black had been a spy to the Dark Lord and had betrayed the Potters. He still struggled to believe the story, as he had not once encountered Black at any of the meetings, but that was not to say the Dark Lord did not have meetings with potential spies outside those meetings. Yet, why on earth would Black have turned on the Potters? James Potter and Sirius Black had been inseparable as students at Hogwarts. He had been James’ best man at the wedding. He was even named Harry’s godfather when the baby had been born.

The only assumption Severus could make was that the Dark Lord had threatened Black’s life, tortured him, even, and Black had caved and turned spy to save himself.

               Coward.

               It was the only logical explanation that made sense in Severus’s head. There was no other plausible reason Black would turn on the Potters. It just didn’t make sense.

               But now, Black was free, and most likely itching to finish the job the Dark Lord had started—killing Harry. And that made Severus very anxious and fearful for his son’s life. No, he would not allow Black to touch Harry with a thirty-nine-foot pole, forget harming Harry. He was not taking any chances.

               A noise caught Severus’s attention, and he quickly folded the paper in a way that the front page was hidden from view, and he sat up straighter in his armchair and glanced over his shoulder to see Harry stepping into the dark kitchen.

               “It is late, Harry,” Severus said. “What are you doing up still?”

               “I couldn’t fall asleep,” Harry said as he shuffled over to his father with a cup of water. He raised the cup slightly. “Just getting a drink. Why are you still up?”

               “Just reading,” Severus answered.

               Harry leaned against the arm of the chair Severus was sitting in and took a few gulps of the water, looking down at the paper Severus was holding. Severus realized Harry probably wouldn’t have been able to make out much on the paper anyway as the child was not wearing his glasses, and the small table lamp was the only light on in the house at the moment. Regardless, Severus felt better having hidden away Sirius Black’s face, at least for now. He knew he would inevitably have to talk about the convict before school started up, as there would be several new rules in place then.

               Severus was surprised when Harry leaned over and kissed his cheek. It was rare that Harry initiated physical affection that wasn’t directly after a punishment, and Severus charted it up to Harry being raised in a home that wanted little to do with him. However, Harry was starting to feel more comfortable doing so with Severus, probably due to Severus’s own physically expressive mannerisms.

               “Thank you for letting me fly Oppilamani,” Harry said. “Giovanna and I had a lot of fun.”

               “Of course,” Severus said as he gently pulled Harry around the arm of the chair and then into his lap. “I’m sorry your friends were unavailable for a real birthday party.”

               “I didn’t mind much,” Harry said. He set his cup of water down on the end table next to the lamp before leaning back into his father, resting his head on Severus’s shoulder. “Hermione is on vacation with her family and Ron’s family won the lottery. They’re in Egypt visiting one of his brothers, I think. They’re having fun. I had fun, too.”

               Severus reclined the chair back slightly, allowing Harry to stretch out his legs next to his own. He carded a hand through Harry’s hair, gently stroking Harry’s scalp.

               “Don’t you think I’m getting a little too old for this?” Harry asked, glancing up at his father.

               “I’ll decide when you’re too old to be held by your father,” Severus growled playfully as he rubbed a warm hand over Harry’s cold hands.

               “Sure, you will,” Harry joked, wrapping both hands around his fathers’ to steal the warmth from him. He hesitated, then turned Severus’s hand palm up, where a scar marred the center of Severus’s palm.

               “What happened to your hand?” Harry asked, gently tracing the scar.

               “I cut it.”

               “Obviously,” Harry said in a slow, serious tone that sounded too much like himself Severus couldn’t help but chuckle. He ruffled Harry’s hair before resuming his gentle stroking.

               “You got me. It was a while ago, back during your little adventure into the Chamber of Secrets. I had . . .” Severus hesitated before asking, “You realize how much you scared me with that near-death experience, don’t you?”

               “Yeah,” Harry answered softly.

               “Enough to drive me to drink.”

               Harry’s head shot up and his wide eyes met Severus’s dark ones.

               “You didn’t, did you?” Harry asked.

               “I did not. I came very close to it though, but I broke the glass bottle in my hand, and it cut me.”

               Harry was quiet as he processed what Severus had said, staring at the jagged scar on Severus’s palm, a finger trailing along the edges of it.

               “Why didn’t you heal it?” Harry asked. “Don’t you have scar repair potions?”

               “I do. But it’s a good reminder.”

               Harry looked up at Severus again, and Severus snorted at the concern written all over his son’s face. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss on Harry’s temple, bringing his hand up to smooth away the worry lines on Harry’s forehead.

               “It’s nothing to worry about. There will be days that tempt me and challenge my limits, especially when it comes to you, but my decisions are my own, and they impact more than just me now. I need to remember that, no matter how frightening the day.”

               “I didn’t help though,” Harry said.

               “No, you did not. But you and I already had a discussion on your behavior that day, and I hope I’ve left an impression so something like that does not happen again.”

               “You did.”

               “I hope so.” Severus detangled his fingers from Harry’s hair and reached down to give his son two firm taps on his bottom. “You know what to expect if it does.”

               “I won’t.” Harry’s face turned red, and he squirmed as he grabbed Severus’s arm and wrapped it around himself, so the man was hugging him now. Harry draped an arm over Severus’s torso and snuggled into his father, muttering, “I promise.”

               “Good to hear,” Severus said, tightening his arms around his son and resting his chin atop Harry’s head. He closed his eyes, feeling as Harry shivered slightly against him, and he waved a hand, summoning a blanket that flew into the room and draped over the two. Harry closed his eyes and sighed contently, and Severus could feel him relaxing and slowly becoming dead weight against him.

               “I love you, Dad,” Harry whispered.

               “I love you, too,” Severus said, kissing the top of Harry’s messy hair. “So very much.”  

               The next couple of days, Severus managed to hide the front-page news of the Daily Prophet from Harry as his owl delivered them, keeping Sirius Black’s escape a secret from his son for as long as possible. However, that ended when Harry’s Hogwarts letter came with his list of school supplies and requirements for the year. Severus had been working in his lab on a very sensitive potion when Harry ran into the lab with the dreaded parchment in hand.

               “Dad, my Hogwarts letter came!” Harry said excitedly. “And a Hogsmeade permission slip. I’ve heard Fred and George talk a lot about the trips, I can’t wait to go on them now. Can you sign it? Please?”

               “Harry, I am in the middle of a potion,” Severus said, as he continued counting in his head. This potion required being stirred twenty-nine times every minute for a total of twelve minutes before the aconite could be added to it, which would make the potion a little less sensitive.

               “Sorry,” Harry said, not sounding the least bit apologetic. “Can’t you just wave your hand to sign it? I’ve seen you do that before. Then it’ll be done.”

               “Not now. You and I need to have a discussion about the Hogsmeade trips. Now please.”

               Severus said nothing else as he finally reached twenty-nine stirs and removed the stirrer, glancing at the clock to watch the seconds hand count out sixty seconds.

               “Are you done now?” Harry asked tentatively. “What is there to talk about? All the rules are listed in the letter, and I promise I’ll be good on the trips, and I’ll follow any additional rules you want me to have, I won’t even complain about them.”

               Severus grinded his teeth as he tried to tune Harry out and focus on the clock. Thirty seconds ticked by; thirty more seconds to go, but Harry was clearly on some overexcited sugar high as he kept pushing the subject.

               “Can’t you talk and work on the potion at the same time? Why can’t you just wave your hand and spell your signature on it and then it’s done? Do you think—”

               “You’re not going!” Severus finally yelled at his son, turning to glare at him.

               Harry fell silent quickly with a befuddled look on his face as he took a hesitant step back.

               Then Severus heard the potion bubble angrily in the cauldron and he turned back to it to see it turn into a black, bubbly goo and he growled loudly, throwing his hands up in frustration before running a hand through his hair, grinding his teeth again.

               After a few seconds of breathing, Severus snatched the Hogsmeade permission slip and slammed it down on the table, the action making Harry jump a bit.

               “Get out,” Severus snapped.

               “Dad, I’m really sorry . . .”

               “Get. Out.” Severus reiterated, pointing a finger at the door.

               Harry’s cheeks were red as he lowered his head and quickly left the lab, leaving Severus to stew alone for a moment. Severus leaned onto the table, glaring down at the permission slip in front of him. He didn’t want to deal with anything Sirius Black right now, or ever, but he knew he couldn’t put it off any longer. He had nearly forgotten about the Hogsmeade trips, and now he would have to take that away from Harry who had clearly been looking forward to them. He closed his eyes, running a hand down is face as he thought over how best to handle the Hogsmeade problem. No matter what he did, Harry was going to be upset. He could not risk his son’s life though, so Harry would have to deal with the loss.

               Once he felt more composed, Severus glanced at the ruined potion that was now a burnt goo. He vanished the mess, though some of the burnt-on residue refused to magically lift off the cauldron. Another spell would take care of that, but Harry could also spend some time scrubbing away the mess he had caused. Severus sent the cauldron flying over to his sink before he picked up the permission slip, sliding it in his robe pocket, and left his lab, closing the door behind him with an unnecessarily loud click. He stepped out of his bedroom and headed for Harry’s room, where he found his son lying face down on his bed, his eyes red, but no tears streaked his face—yet.

               He cleared his throat before crooking a finger at Harry.

               Harry swallowed but pushed out of his bed and slowly walked over to his father, his hands reaching behind himself in a subtle attempt to protect his bottom. Severus waited until Harry was directly in front of him before he grabbed his son, turned him, and swatted him twice, earning a small yelp from Harry.

               “You know better than to act in such an impulsive, childish manner while I am working in my lab,” Severus scolded.

               “I know,” Harry said, a tear finally escaping his eye and trailing down his cheek. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your potion; I was so excited.”

               “I understand that, but that was a very valuable, time-consuming potion, not to mention an expensive one to brew, and you distracted me long enough for it to destroy itself. Not only have I wasted materials, I have to start over.”

               “I really am sorry for that, Dad. I can help you. What kind of potion was it?”

               “Never mind that,” Severus said. “You will be scrubbing the cauldron later to clean up the mess you made as punishment. Right now, we need to talk about this.” Severus pulled out the permission slip and held it out to Harry, who took it and frowned at the unsigned parchment.

               “You said I wasn’t going,” Harry said. He looked up at Severus with a frown. “Is that true?”

               “For now, it is,” Severus said.

               “So you’re not going to sign it? Why?”

               “Before you start throwing a tantrum and undoubtedly land yourself in serious trouble,” Severus began with a warning look, “sit down and listen.”

               Harry sat down on the edge of his bed while Severus pulled out the desk chair, moving it so he was sitting directly in front of Harry. Severus summoned the Daily Prophet and unfolded it back to the front page and showed it to Harry. Harry set the permission slip down at his side and took the paper, his brows furrowing at the man in the picture.

               “That is Sirius Black,” Severus explained. “He is a prisoner of Azkaban, a very dangerous man, and as we speak, he is also at large.”

               “At large? You mean he escaped prison?”

               “Yes. He is believed to be a spy for the Dark Lord, and he is the reason the Dark Lord managed to find your parents that fateful night. He is a known murderer, as before his arrest, he killed thirteen muggles and his friend, Peter Pettigrew.”

               “That’s awful,” Harry said. “Why would he do that?”

               “I am not sure,” Severus said, despite the many reasons his brain could come up with as to why Black may have done what he did. “Regardless, it is imperative that you follow every rule I am about to give you.”

               “What does he have to do with me?”

               “As I said, he was a spy for You-Know-Who, and he is the reason your parents’ secret location was found.”

               Harry’s eyes widened as he realized what that could mean.

               “You think he’ll come after me?” Harry asked.

               “I do not know what he’ll do, but it is highly probable that he will target you and try to finish the job he started.”

               Harry looked back at the photo on the paper, staring intently at Black’s face for another minute. Severus waited patiently for Harry to draw his own conclusions and, fingers crossed, to not blow up in an emotional outburst. Harry slowly lifted his head to meet Severus’s eyes, and Severus sighed as he saw the arguments forming behind those spectacles.

               “This is why you don’t want to sign my permission slip.”

               “Yes,” Severus agreed. “With Sirius Black on the loose, I cannot take any chances with your life. Any opportunity Black may be presented with to get to you, he could take, and these Hogsmeade trips are too chaotic, not well supervised, and anything could go wrong. Furthermore, you will not be permitted to wander the castle grounds alone, and you most certainly won’t be allowed somewhere that you could easily slip out of sight and vanish. So no, Harry, I will not be signing your permission slip.”  

               “What if I stay near the professors? I won’t go out of their sight, I promise! I’ll even follow any extra rules you give me and—”

               “My rule is that you are not going, now stop and listen—”

               “What if they find him?” Harry asked. “What if he goes back to prison?”

               “Then we’ll revisit this subject. But until then, I do not feel comfortable about you wandering around Hogsmeade. And with that said, you will not seek, pursue, or even think about looking for Sirius Black.”

               “Why would I do that?” Harry’s jaw dropped.     

               “Your track record as of late has not been promising. You’ve always found a way to defy the rules, but not this time. You will not concern yourself with Sirius Black, and as long as you stay in Hogwarts, you will be safe. And if you need to be outside for any reason—Quidditch practice, Herbology—you always stay in a group of friends or classmates. You are never to be the last student outside, nor are you allowed outside on your own.”

               “This isn’t fair!” Harry exclaimed, shoving the Daily Prophet aside. He gestured wildly at the paper. “What if he’s not even after me? What if all of this has nothing to do with me?”

               “Then that would be excellent news,” Severus said, forcing himself to remain calm, “but I don’t know what Black wants. No one does. For all we know, he could go into hiding and no one will hear of him for years. He could be after the Dark Lord himself, hoping to resurrect him. He might be after you. My concern is you, and if there is any chance he wants to come after you, then I need to do what I must to protect you, even if you hate me for it. I’m not signing your permission slip, and that is final.”

               Harry’s eyes fell on the permission slip at his side, and he glared at it, though Severus could see he was fighting back tears.

               “Fine. I didn’t want to go anyway,” Harry muttered.

               “You have every right to be upset. I’m sorry you can’t go with your friends, but you and I can visit Hogsmeade at any time.”

               “It won’t be the same.”

               “I know.” Severus stood up and gently ran his fingers through Harry’s hair soothingly. He wished he could make it up to Harry, perhaps somehow make Hogsmeade the safest magical town on Earth, but he could not, and Harry would just have to miss out on the Hogsmeade visits. It wasn’t like they would be forever; Black would be caught and then Harry could join his friends on the trip. One day, Harry would understand the sacrifice. But right now, he was an emotional teenager who just lost out on the biggest social events of the year.

               “I’m sorry, Harry. I truly wish it were different for you.” Severus leaned forward to kiss Harry’s forehead, but Harry fell back on his bed before Severus could, and the child buried his face in his pillow, not making any sounds, just pouting. Severus tried not to feel hurt by the action and instead said, “Very well. I expect you to be in the lab to clean that cauldron in an hour. Change into a robe.”

               Severus returned to his lab to brew the potion he had lost earlier. Thankfully, Albus was supplying most of the ingredients, so he didn’t have to pay any extra for most of the supplies. There were three million other potions he’d rather brew, but he had to complete several batches of this one before he could consider working on any others. It was an inconvenience, but a job he would complete to the fullest of his capabilities as the students’ lives were at risk, including his own stubborn little student.

               An hour later, he was almost finished with his first batch, and he looked around for Harry. He frowned when Harry did not appear, but he could not leave the potion alone, so he kept working. If Harry did not appear when he was finished, he would drag his son to the lab.

Harry strolled into the lab fifteen minutes later, wearing one of his school robes and giving Severus a cautious look. Severus directed Harry to the sink where the cauldron waited to be scrubbed, and Harry put on his pair of gloves hanging on the wall and began soaking the cauldron first before he scrubbed vigorously.

               They worked in silence for several minutes, Severus finishing the potion and vialing it in seven labeled vials, and Severus set them on a high shelf out of his son’s reach. He knew Harry had been trying to sneak a peek at what was written on the vials, and he didn’t want to answer any more questions regarding what was to come for the new school year.

               It took Harry forty minutes to clean the cauldron of its caked-on goo, and Harry set the cauldron to dry and tiredly took off the gloves, hanging them back up before stretching his arms out. He walked over to Severus, who had started another batch of the meticulous potion. Harry paused next to his father, watching him work for a few minutes, and when it seemed Severus was finished adding ingredients or stirring, Harry leaned against his father, wrapping an arm around Severus.

               Severus rested a hand on top of Harry’s head as he gave his son a curious look.

               “I get you’re just trying to protect me, Dad,” Harry said. “I’m sorry for acting like a brat earlier.”

               Severus snorted and ran his fingers through Harry’s hair.

               “You were already forgiven,” Severus said. “I apologize that circumstances have prevented you from having fun with your friends, but your life is far more valuable than a few trips to the sweets shop.”

               Harry smiled up at Severus, wrapping both arms around his father to hug him properly, squeezing rather tightly. Severus returned the hug, then pulled Harry’s arms off from around him.

               “You seem in a much better mood,” Severus said. “What are you up to?”

               “What do you mean?” Harry asked, blinking at his father. “I haven’t done anything.”

               “I didn’t say you did anything.” Severus quirked a brow. “But now I feel like you’ve done something. In fact, you were late to your detention.”

               “We’re not at school, Dad,” Harry said with a playful smile.

               “No, we’re not,” Severus agreed, then leaned forward and successfully kissed Harry’s temple. “Go get dinner started and stay out of trouble.”

               Harry grinned before running out of the lab. Severus shook his head, trying to ignore the feeling in the back of his mind that Harry was up to something and accept that maybe Harry had gotten over the permission slip situation. After all, Harry could not deny that his reasons for not signing were outrageous or inappropriate. Severus finished the last few steps of the potion and filled seven more vials, labeling them appropriately and levitating them to the top shelf. Fourteen vials down, only fifty-six more to go. He will be brewing this potion a lot in the next few weeks. Severus decided he had done enough for today, and he stepped out of his lab and headed for the kitchen, curious to see what meal plan Harry had in mind.

    The next morning, Severus received word from Albus that he would be stopping by later that morning, after all, he never did get to attend a housewarming. Severus had rolled his eyes at Albus’s letter but decided to fix the floo to allow Albus’s magic through his wards. He made a quick breakfast of yogurt parfaits and threw together some fruit in a bowl that he set on the table, just in time as Harry lumbered into the kitchen with a yawn.

               “Morning, Dad,” Harry greeted as he sat down next to his father.

               “Good morning. I trust you slept well?”

               Harry nodded as he began to take large mouthfuls of the yogurt parfait. 

               “Professor Dumbledore will be stopping by later this morning,” Severus informed Harry. “Surely to share some trivial news and see the house for the first time.”

               Harry had stopped midbite at what Severus had said for a fraction of a second before he resumed eating. If Severus didn’t know his son so well, he would have missed it.

               “Perhaps he would like to see how you are faring while he is here,” Severus commented nonchalantly.

               “Oh, actually, I was hoping I could go to the library for a while,” Harry said.

               “I do not recall you having your book club meet today.”

               “Not for that, just to do some reading. It’s been a while since I went to the library just to visit and browse the books. Can I, Dad?”

               “I don’t see why not, but only until noon, I want you home for lunch.”

               “Yes, sir.”

               “And before you leave, you will eat some fruit.”

               Harry looked at the bowl at the center of the table, collected a spoonful, then returned to his yogurt. Severus cleared his throat and gave his son a pointed look. Harry huffed, then collected two more spoonsful of the fruit. Severus smirked at Harry’s annoyed look as he picked up the Daily Prophet to read. Harry managed to finish his yogurt and most of the fruit on his plate before he said goodbye to Severus and took off out the door. Severus began another batch of the potions he had been asked to make, and it took his mind off Sirius Black for a while. Black had no clue where Harry was living, nor who he was living with, and it offered Severus some peace of mind that Harry could still have some freedom in their own hometown. However, at the first sign of trouble, he would take that away from Harry without a second’s hesitation.

               But Black was not a problem in the small town of Ostbridge, and Severus focused on the potion in front of him, and with no distractions (not that he would ever admit Harry was a distraction), he finished a perfect, high-quality version of the potion, and he was quite pleased with himself as he vialed the doses. This would be a great week for a certain someone. Not that Severus really cared, of course. He was doing this out of request of his employer not obligation, so he could make the potions as perfect or as so-so as he wanted, as long as the end result kept everyone safe.

               Severus heard the floo flare as he labeled the last vial, and he walked out of his lab to greet Albus, who was admiring the small living quarters.

               “My, Severus, it is very quaint,” Albus said. “With a touch of modern-day trends. I never would have thought this was your style of a home.”

               “It does the job,” Severus said dully. “I am sure you must have news that brings you here. Is it about Black?”

               “I wish it were,” Albus said. “I’ve actually come to answer some peculiar questions that came up while I was sorting through paperwork as they arrive. I thought we had agreed that for the safety of Harry’s wellbeing, it would be best that he did not attend the Hogsmeade trips.”

               “Yes. I am the one who pushed for that.”

               “You have not changed your mind? Made any new rules for Harry to follow that made you more lenient? Hexed Harry with a million tracker charms?”

               “I have not. What is your point?”

               “I see, I see. I do not like to do this, but I’m afraid this appeared on my desk.”

               Albus held out a parchment and Severus recognized it as a Hogsmeade permission slip. A signed slip. He frowned as he took the parchment from Albus, frowning at the slightly shaky signature that was almost a near match to his own. Anger was slowly building up inside him and he shook his head at Albus.

               “I did not sign this,” Severus said.  

               “I figured as much,” Albus said. “But the signature does have your magical residue. Any thoughts as to how that may be?”

               Severus’s frown deepened as he considered all the possible ways Harry could have accomplished that, then closed his eyes with a sigh.

               “My grading quills,” he said. “On my desk. I use them so often, I’m sure they’ve collected my magical signature over the years. I am so sorry, Albus, I had no idea what he was up to. We talked about the trips yesterday and why I could not sign the permission form and Harry was upset but I never thought he would . . .”

               That anger rose in his chest again and Severus crinkled the edges of the parchment as he clenched his fists. How dare that conniving, little brat. When he got his hands on Harry, he was going to beat his arse into next week in front of whomever and wherever he found him. He took several deep breaths, but his nostrils were flaring, and he was not calming down.

               “I’m sure Harry did not realize,” Albus mused, “that when a guardian signs the slip, it magically delivers itself to me.”

               “He should never have signed my name on it in the first place,” Severus snapped.

               “No, he shouldn’t have. But he is just a child who had a fun opportunity snatched away from him in a single day. Remember that, Severus.”

               “I am well aware,” Severus said. He set the parchment down on dining table, then snapped his fingers, changing his robes to muggle attire. “If that is all, Albus, I need to go find my son.”

               Albus smiled sadly at Severus, then said, “Just void the signature, and Harry’s name will disappear from the list of approved students. It’s a good thing magic can be so flexible, don’t you agree?”

               Severus didn’t comment as he threw a muggle jacket on and nodded once to the headmaster.

               Severus felt an ominous cloud following him as he stormed out of his house and marched swiftly down the street. Harry had better be in that library, he was not in the mood for a game of hide and seek right now. He had his wand tucked in a holster on his sleeve just in case, but the less energy he had to spend on searching for his son magically, the more energy he would have to make it absolutely clear that something like this was never to happen again.

               Severus had never felt so angry before. Many times, Harry had done idiotic, reckless, life endangering stunts that made Severus’s heart want to freeze. Sure, he had been angry then, but he had mostly been afraid for Harry’s life. Even the firework incident last year had ultimately been done for the greater good. But this, this was willful disobedience. Harry had been told the dangers that were present and why he could not go to Hogsmeade, and instead of accepting that fate, he dared to forge Severus’s signature. Absolute defiance.

               Severus made it to the library in record time and he scanned the area for Harry, slowly and silently making his way through the shelves of books and scattered tables in between where people were reading in peace. He finally spotted Harry in the far back of the library, pretending to read a book in the far back corner while biting his thumbnail, his leg shaking in anticipation. He knew he was in trouble.

               Severus narrowed his eyes and sped walked straight for Harry, who spotted him and jumped out of his seat, keeping the table in between them.

               “Come here,” Severus demanded as he paused on the other side of the table.

               “We’re in the library,” Harry said a low whisper.

               “And if you don’t want to be bare bottom spanked here, you will come to me this instant,” Severus threatened in a low voice himself.

               “You can’t do that,” Harry said.

               “Do not test me.”

               Harry swallowed nervously, looking around as if someone might come to his rescue, but there was no one else in the aisle he was in, and Harry reluctantly, though very slowly, walked over to Severus. He seemed to regret his decision when Severus grabbed Harry’s chin, angling his son’s face up and glaring down at him. Harry’s face reddened as he gave Severus a pitiful look.

               “How dare you, little boy,” Severus scolded. “After everything we talked about regarding Black, you went behind my back and signed the form for yourself.”

               “I didn’t know it would just disappear. I didn’t know what I would do with it, I just—”

               “You are in so much trouble, young man, you’re grounded.” Severus leaned close to Harry, whispering in his ear, “And you can expect a severe smacking when we get home.”

               “Please, no,” Harry pleaded softly. “I don’t know what I was thinking, I won’t ever do it again.”

               Severus released Harry’s chin and grabbed Harry’s upper arm, then proceeded to march his son out of the library. Harry stumbled to keep up with his father’s long strides, but he kept his head down and his mouth shut as he followed Severus out of the library, hoping no one was staring. Once outside, Harry pulled against Severus, but he only tightened his grip.

               “You’re hurting me,” Harry complained.

               Severus had the right mind to loosen his grip, but he did not let Harry go as he dragged Harry away from the library, but Harry suddenly planted both feet firmly and leaned back, jerking Severus to a stop. If Severus had any intention of harming Harry, he would just yank Harry’s arm and force his son to keep moving, but he was not going to act like his own father right now. That didn’t mean his patience wasn’t running thin.

               “Harry, walk,” Severus growled.

               “No. You’re really mad at me, and you won’t even let me explain.”

               “You signed my name on the permission slip using one of my grading quills. I don’t think there’s much left to explain.”

               “Well, no, but I wasn’t going to turn it in or anything, I promise!”

               “Whatever you planned to do afterwards with the parchment does not matter. The fact is that you deliberately disobeyed me, went behind my back, and signed a form for something you know you can’t be apart of because of the dangers. Now we’re done discussing this here. Anything else you want to say can wait until we get home.”

               Severus tugged on Harry, but the child resisted, and Severus growled irritably.

               “Knock it off, Harry,” Severus said.

               “I don’t want to go home right now.”

               “I’m not giving you a choice.”

               Harry glared at his father, not budging the slightest. Severus narrowed his eyes at Harry, then said, “So be it.”

               Severus stepped closer to Harry, keeping a firm grip on Harry’s arm, and before Harry could figure out Severus’s intentions, he lifted Harry over his shoulder, his upper body dangling over his back while Severus pinned down the back of Harry’s knees securely. Harry gasped in surprise, but when Severus began walking down the sidewalk, Harry began struggling, though his efforts were in vain as he couldn’t really kick.

               “Put me down!” Harry shouted, pounding his fists on Severus’s back. “Stop, let go of me.”     

               Severus was tempted to swat Harry’s rear end, but he realized they were starting to get some stares from other pedestrians, and Severus wasn’t sure who they were more sympathetic for. He ignored Harry as the child struggled more, trying hard to kick at him to be freed. Honestly, how had this escalated so quickly?

               “Hey,” someone called out to them, followed by two short honks. Severus turned the slightest to see Freddy pulling his truck over next to them, and Severus paused. Freddy, leaned over the passenger seat and asked, “You two need a ride?”

               “Yes!” Harry quickly answered, giving Freddy a pleading look, while Severus rolled his eyes at Harry’s drama.

               “We’re fine,” Severus snapped.

               “Don’t look it,” Freddy disagreed. He waved them forward. “Come on, Severus, put your kid down and get in the truck. I’ll take you home. Should be much nicer on both of you.”

               Severus sighed, suddenly feeling very weary, and he lowered Harry to his feet, grabbing the boy’s arm and directing him to the truck. Once Harry had climbed into the back seat and put his seatbelt on, Severus stepped up into the passenger seat.

               “This was unnecessary,” Severus said, glaring at Freddy, “I was handling it.”

               “You were causing a scene,” Freddy retorted with a cool glare back as he pulled away from the curb, driving very slowly down the road.

               Severus rolled his eyes once more and stared out the window, watching the town go by much faster.

               “So, Harry,” Freddy said, glancing at the boy in his rearview mirror, “what trouble did you find this time?”

               “Nothing,” Harry argued, crossing his arms, not wanting to share details, even with Freddy.

               “Come on, you don’t expect me to believe that your father is upset at you for no reason?”

               Harry looked down at his shoes for a second before saying, “I signed a permission slip with his name after he said no.”

               “Wow, kid. Did you know that’s illegal?”

               “No,” Harry answered softly. “I knew it wasn’t right.”

               “Under the law, that is a criminal offense. I’m sure your dad isn’t planning on pressing charges though. Bet it was something really fun you wanted to do. And so disappointing to hear when your dad said you couldn’t do it. But sometimes, us parents have our kids’ best interests in mind when we make these decisions, and we need you to trust us that this is for the best.”

               “I know.”

               “Now, I get why your dad is upset, and probably feeling a bit betrayed. He was trying to make the right choice for you, and you went behind his back and did your own thing using his name. That hurts, you know? That puts quite a damper on trust.”

               Severus could feel Harry’s eyes on him, but he did not look at his son. He held his tongue and watched houses pass by until theirs came into view.

               “I don’t want you to lose your trust in me,” Harry said to Severus. “It was stupid. I just kind of did it because I really wanted you to sign it so I could go, but then I felt bad right after. I wasn’t going to turn it in but then it disappeared, and I didn’t know what to do. I know it was wrong. I’ll never even think about doing it again.”

               Freddy pulled into the driveway of the Snape house and looked at Severus pointedly. Severus sighed and closed his eyes but said nothing, nor did he move. Freddy turned in his seat and smiled at Harry.

               “I bet a really nice thought-out apology letter would make your father feel a lot better,” Freddy said, and Harry nodded his head eagerly. Freddy nodded to the house. “Go inside and get started on that. Your father will be in shortly.”

               Harry climbed out of the truck and ran into the house. Freddy sat back in his seat, crossing his arms thoughtfully as he stared at the driver wheel.

               “I nearly lost it on him,” Severus admitted softly. “I was just so angry and upset that he would do something like this. And he knew it. He left the house before I could find out what he even did. He’s afraid of me.”

               “He is not,” Freddy said. “He was angry and upset just like you are now. And when he realized his mistake, he felt guilty for betraying your trust. He didn’t want to face all the inevitable disappointment you would feel; that’s why he left the house.”

               Severus thought back to how Harry had hugged him yesterday, seemingly out of the blue, and how he had gripped on to him, and it made sense. Perhaps Harry had been contemplating telling the truth of what he had just done in that moment but lost the nerve.

               “He made a mistake,” Freddy added, “a slip in morale, just like you and that beer you desperately wanted to drink.”

               Severus looked down at his hand, eyeing the scar that reminded him of that night over and over. He closed his hand into a fist, taking several deep breaths, exhaustion washing over him.

               Freddy reached over and rested a supporting hand on Severus’s shoulder.

               “We all make mistakes. And Harry is not the first kid to plagiarize his parent’s signature. But surprisingly, he was immediately remorseful. He could have come clean a little sooner but you’re doing something right if your kid has a conscience like that.”

               Severus smiled softly at that, staring at his house.

               “Thank you, Freddy,” Severus said. “For . . . stepping in.”

               “Of course,” Freddy said with a smile. “Now, go put your kid at ease before the house blows up.”

               Severus chuckled as he stepped out of the car, waving Freddy off as the man backed out of the driveway and drove back toward town. Severus slowly walked up to his door, grabbing the handle and taking another deep breath, then he opened the door and stepped inside.

               He slowly walked toward Harry’s room, where Harry was quickly scribbling away on spare parchment at his desk. He leaned against the doorway, watching Harry for a moment before his son noticed him, and smiled uneasily.

               Severus stepped into the room and pulled Harry from his chair and hugged his son.  

               “If I could,” Harry said into his father’s chest, “I’d take it back. I never would have done it.”

               “That is good to hear,” Severus said as he pushed Harry back slightly. “I understand the news of Sirius Black and the subsequent loss of the Hogsmeade trips has been very upsetting, but lying, forging, hiding it all from me—that is not the answer, Harry.”

               “I know.”

               “You’re grounded to this room for the next couple of days.” Severus hesitated as Harry nodded at him.

               “I wanted to tell you right after I did it,” Harry admitted.

               “You certainly would be in less trouble if you had,” Severus said.

               “I would have been?”

               “Absolutely. I may have yelled, swatted you a few times, but ultimately, it would have been an easy fix, and this would be behind us. Harry, I would much rather hear of your mistakes from you than from someone else a day later. I want you to trust me enough to come to me when you’ve made mistakes and be truthful and forthcoming about it. It certainly would have saved us both from some public humiliation.”   

               “Yeah,” Harry agreed softly. “Are you still going to . . . smack me?”

               Severus quirked a brow at his son as he debated it in his head. Feeling completely drained, Severus shook his head slowly.

               “I think you’ve been humiliated enough for one day. But this does not happen again. If I ever catch you with something forged or stolen of mine, not only will you be grounded for an indefinite amount of time, but your bottom will be sore for the entirety of it. Do I make myself clear?”

               “Yes, sir.”

               “Excellent.” Severus turned Harry back to his desk and gave him a hard swat to propel him toward it. Harry winced as he quickly moved back to his chair. “Finish your letter. I need to void the signature on the form you signed.”

               “Yes, sir.” Harry sat down and picked up his quill. Before he began writing, he looked up at his father. “Dad? Would you take me and my friends to Hogsmeade together sometimes?”

               “I think something of the sort can be arranged,” Severus answered, smiling at his son.

               “Thanks.” Harry returned to writing his apology letter while Severus walked out to his dining table and picked up the parchment, waving his hand over it to vanish his signature. It certainly wasn’t an exact replica of his own writing, but Harry had done an impressive job. Little brat. If this was how the year was shaping up to be, Severus was not prepared for it at all.

Chapter Text

He was trying very hard not to raise his voice as he led Harry down to their quarters. He had meant to speak to Harry about what had been said to Lupin once they were in the privacy of their quarters, but he had been unable to hold his tongue until then, and Harry was too quick to defend himself.

               “I really didn’t mean to tell him,” Harry said, nearly jogging to keep up with Severus’s long strides down the stairway. “It just kind of slipped when we were having tea and . . . why is this such a big deal anyway? He won’t tell anyone.”

               “Whether he would tell anyone or not is hardly the point,” Severus growled, keeping his voice low as they approached the dungeons. “We’ve discussed the importance of secrecy before, and this is not the first time you’ve slipped, so clearly, we need to revisit the subject.”

               “I don’t think this was worth dragging me out of the common room for,” Harry said snidely, and Severus grit his teeth. Obviously, Harry had forgotten what they had previously talked about, and he planned to remind Harry exactly how “worthful” it was to follow his rules regardless of how kind the person he was speaking to was.

               “Which is exactly why we are having this discussion now,” Severus said, opening the door to his quarters and pointing inside, letting Harry enter before him. “Because you clearly do not see how this can backfire on both of us.”

               “Oh, you are so paranoid!” Harry complained as he entered their quarters. He winced when Severus slammed the door shut behind them, the noise echoing in the quiet space.

               “And with good reason,” Severus snapped, pointing at the sofa.

               “I’d rather stand,” Harry muttered, crossing his arms stubbornly.

               “You are really pushing it, young man,” Severus scolded as he grabbed Harry’s arm and forcefully backed his son up into the sofa. “Sit down.”

               “I don’t want to,” Harry said, resisting Severus’s pull on his arm. “Let me go, you’re hurting me.”

               “Then just sit down,” Severus said. “Why are you making this so difficult?”

               “Why are you being such an arse?” Harry snapped back, yanking his arm free from Severus’s hold.

               Severus quickly raised his hand, pausing when Harry flinched. He stopped himself and took several deep breaths as he lowered his arm, clenching his fist at his side for a moment before pointing a stern finger at his son, leaning in close.

               “You deserve a good slap for that attitude,” Severus said, and Harry blushed at the scolding. “Do not ever speak to me in that tone of voice again, do you understand me?”

               “Yes, sir,” Harry said in a calmer tone.

               “Sit down.”

               Harry quickly plopped down onto the sofa. Severus remained standing for a moment as he took deeper breaths. He had not meant to raise his hand in that manner to Harry, and that told him he needed to rein himself in before he did something he regretted. As upset as he was over what Harry had done, it didn’t warrant such punishment, nor did he ever want to strike Harry in the face as he had a couple of years ago that awful night. This hadn’t meant to be an argument or an angry conversation, but of course, neither he nor Harry were very good at holding their tempers. Finally, Severus summoned tea from the kitchen before he sat down next to Harry, fixing a cup for Harry first.

               “Let’s start over,” Severus said. “Perhaps with a spot of tea to help keep us both in check.”

               Severus handed the cup to Harry, who accepted it but didn’t drink from it yet. Severus fixed himself a cup next.

               “I hate it,” Harry said, breaking the silence. “Not being able to talk about it to anyone. It’s so stupid.”

               “I understand,” Severus said, sitting back on the sofa and looking at his son. “Regardless, it is imperative that you remember that you cannot tell anyone without my permission.”

               “It was just Remus,” Harry said. “He won’t tell anyone. I know he won’t. Why is it so important that no one knows. It’s hard not telling anyone. I’ve no one to talk to about . . .”

               Harry trailed off and looked away, taking a sip of the tea.

               “About parental grievances, I’m sure,” Severus supplied, remembering all the talks he had had with Lily about how unfair her parents were about this or that. He had kept much of his own life out of conversation as much as possible, but he was sure Harry wanted more friends to vent to when he felt Severus was being unfair. It was a natural teenage thing, yet Harry was forced into secrecy due to Severus’s situation. Which was one more unfair thing Harry had to complain about.

               “Regardless of your relationship with Lupin,” Severus began, “you should have asked me before you revealed our relationship to him.”

               “I was caught up in his stories about my parents,” Harry explained. “I was telling him about some of the stories you shared with me and it kind of slipped. I didn’t mean to tell him.”

               “And that’s the problem, Harry. You didn’t mean to. That could be a very dangerous mistake in the future. If that information gets out to the wrong person, we are both in trouble. You need to be in the habit of keeping anything related to us out of everyday conversations unless you’ve run it by me first, but you can bet that my answer will probably be no. Your friends knowing is more than I would like to know, and now Lupin knows as well.”

               “He won’t tell anyone,” Harry said.

               “I’m sure he won’t. Not intentionally anyway. Which means he now has to keep this secret to himself for our protection. You see how hard it is for you, do you really want that pressure on every good friend you meet?”

               “No,” Harry admitted softly. “I really didn’t mean to. It’s just so hard and it’s not fair.”

               “I don’t mean to make your life one big secret. However, the Dark Lord may return one day, and if he were to find out how close I am to you . . . well, that could very well be the end for me.”

               “Why do you have to go back to him?” Harry asked, his eyes teary as they met Severus’s.

               “I wish I didn’t have to. But my past mistakes are something I am stuck with whether I like it or not, and the safest thing I can do is spy on the Dark Lord. If I don’t at least pretend to serve him, he will kill me.”

               “All because you were stupid enough to take that mark.”

               “Language,” Severus half-scolded, unable to help the small snort that escaped his nose. “You’re right, though. It’s not my proudest moment, but I promise you that we will both get through it when the time comes. And one day, when it’s all said and done, you may tell anyone and everyone. Until then . . .”

               “Keep my big fat mouth shut,” Harry said, crossing his arms and leaning back in the sofa.

               “Your words, but yes.”

               “I hate it.”

               “I know. I hate it for you. Unfortunately, this is our life right now. And the secrecy of this relationship must remain that way. You are not to tell anyone else about this unless you have run it by me first. And I can tell you there will be rare times I say yes.”

               “I know. I’m sorry, Dad. I really like Remus, though. I don’t regret telling him. He said he’s happy for us. He’s glad you were able to be there when he couldn’t be and that I’m happy. I like having him to talk to.”

               “I’ve noticed,” Severus said. “I’m glad you found someone else to confide in.”

               “Really?” Harry asked, giving Severus a suspicious look.

               Of course not, Severus thought but he swallowed those words and nodded at his son. He was sure Harry noticed his dislike for the man off the bat, and calling Lupin “Remus” and those evening tea visits had not flown well with Severus at first especially when Harry had nearly missed curfew one time, but Severus held back any—dare he call it—jealousy and gave Harry ample opportunity to get to know someone who had been so close to James. It was something he would never be able to offer Harry, and Harry was always so happy after spending time with Lupin. He couldn’t kill his son’s joy, though he did make it absolutely clear to Lupin that he was not a welcomed sight at Hogwarts. He delivered his potions with as much professional decorum as he could muster, offering no more than a few snide remarks when he handed over the vials.

               Of course, Lupin had come to him the other night and expressed his genuine delight and gratitude for Severus adopting Harry, explaining Harry’s latest visit and how he had slipped that Severus was Harry’s adoptive father. Severus had snapped at Lupin that Harry should not have told him and that it was imperative that Lupin tell no one of the relationship. Lupin had been too happy explaining his understanding of the situation, and his lack of outburst to Severus’s words only angered Severus more.

               “You don’t seem to like him very much,” Harry said, interrupting Severus’s thoughts.               

               “Regardless of how I feel about another person, it will not impact your behaviour around them.”

               “No, I know. You just seem to really not like him. I mean, you don’t really like a lot of people, but you don’t hide it around Lupin like you do others.”

               How had Harry become so perceptive to his behaviors? Severus quirked a brow at Harry’s curious look, refusing to fall for the bait Harry was trying to lure him with. He would not be divulging any past history between himself and Lupin, not yet anyway. Perhaps when Harry was much older, much older. Harry sighed as he realized he was not getting anything from Severus, and returned to sipping his tea.

               “I am sorry,” Harry said. “I’ll be more careful in the future.”

               “You’ll come to me first,” Severus reiterated.

               “Yes, sir. I’ll ask you first if I really want to tell someone.”

               “Thank you.” Severus sipped his own tea, pausing in thought for a moment before he asked, “Have you eaten dinner yet?”

               “No, you dragged me down here before I could go to the Great Hall.”

               “I did not drag you down here,” Severus said, standing up and hiding at the small dining table. He tapped his finger on the table, summoning dishes from the Great Hall, and two plates of pot roast appeared.  

               “Oh, okay,” Harry said, walking over to the table, “kindly threatened, then.”

               Severus gave his son a mild glare.

               “Sit down and eat, you cheeky brat,” Severus said.

               Harry sat down with a grin on his face, setting his tea next to his plate and digging into his food. Severus took his seat at the head of the table, fighting back a smirk himself. They ate in silence for a few minutes before Severus struck up a lighter conversation.

               “How have your classes been?”

               “Good so far. I finished that essay on werewolves that you wanted summarizing page three hundred and ninety-four; I still don’t get why you skipped ahead so far from Remus’s schedule.”

               Severus bit back any comment on that particular assignment. As much as he wanted to warn Harry, it wasn’t his place to reveal a condition like that. Besides, after the relationship Harry and Lupin developed, Harry would most likely do everything he could to protect Lupin’s secret, playing the hero once more. Hopefully, one of the other students caught on and exposed Lupin for what he was. Fear from the students would influence the headmaster (and parents) more than concern from himself ever would. Until then, he would make sure Lupin stayed on top of his potions.

               “Anyway, I really like Remus’s class. He makes learning fun and he’s really helped me along with the patronus charm. Not that I’ve been successful yet.”

               “As I have told you, and as I’m sure Lupin’s told you, learning the charm is very complicated and will take time. Not to mention that you are learning the charm well before any students normally would, and not everyone managed a successful corporeal patronus. And that is perfectly fine, as long as the end result keeps dementors at bay. You must remain patient with yourself.”

               “I know, it’s just frustrating. No one else is bothered by them like I am.”

               “You cannot know that for sure.”

               “I guess not.”

               The two ate in silence again for a couple minutes before Harry spoke again.          

               “Ron and Hermione still aren’t talking because of the whole Scabbers and Crookshanks thing. Though he does seem happier now that everyone is talking about him and the Halloween thing.”

               “Surely surviving an encounter with a killer is not a happy event,” Severus said.

               “No, but it’s always me everyone talks about usually. I think Ron likes the change. He can tell the story over and over of how he scared off Sirius Black.”

               “Speaking of Sirius Black,” Severus said, “As things have settled down some and his presence is suddenly absent from the news, I feel more comfortable with you returning to sleeping in your dormitory if you would like. Do not feel pressured to move out of our quarters this instant, but I know you’ve been feeling a bit antsy not spending late nights in your common room with your friends goofing off no doubt . . .”

               “It’s not just that,” Harry butted in. “We study together and work on homework together too.”

               “Indeed. Well, if you are ready, you may return to sleeping in your tower again tonight.”

               “Thanks, Dad. At least I didn’t have to lie about where I’ve been staying. Everyone seemed to think it made sense I would stay in a professor’s quarters for my own safety, though everyone was horrified it was you. They all though you kept me in your secret potions’ lab hanging by my toes from the ceiling.”

               “At least I would know where you are all night,” Severus said, earning a grin from Harry. “I wanted to commend you on how well you’ve handled everything that’s happened so far. You have been very well behaved this year and you’ve taken Black’s escape very seriously. I am very proud of you, Harry.”

               Harry beamed at his father.

               “I told you I wasn’t that stupid,” Harry said.

               “I never thought that for a moment, but you’ve managed to keep yourself out of harm’s way, a new record for you, really.”

               Harry smiled again, and Severus gave his son a proud smile in return. Honestly, Harry had managed to avoid a trip over his knees since the Chamber fiasco, although he had earned a few swats here and there for some smaller transgressions. Perhaps he was finally getting through to Harry about the value of his own life and thinking through his actions before performing them. As they finished their meals, Harry suddenly put his fork down, licking his lips repeatedly as his eyes darted between Severus and his plate. Severus set his own utensils down and sipped his tea. He had a feeling he would not like whatever it was Harry was thinking about, but he had to ask.

               “Spit it out,” he said.

               Harry swallowed audibly before smiling at Severus.

               “I was just thinking about Sirius Black,” he said.

               “What about him?”

               “Well, like you said, he seems to have been absent from the news lately and things are settling down some.”

               Severus sighed as he realized where this was going.

               “The next Hogsmeade trip is coming up and I just thought that maybe—”

               “No,” Severus said firmly.

               “You didn’t even let me—”

               “The answer is no. There is no argument you can come up with that will change my mind. While Sirius Black has disappeared for now, he may very well be waiting for the right opportunity to strike rather than pursuing you directly and sending you off to Hogsmeade would be the opportunity Black needed to snatch you and disappear again. So no, you are not going on the Hogsmeade visit.”

               Harry growled angrily before saying, “What if I stayed with a professor? I won’t go out of anyone’s sight. You could even take me.”

               “I am not available next weekend to escort you to Hogsmeade. Nor will you bug the other professors about babysitting you because you do not have parental permission to go.”

               “But I—”

               “Enough. My answer is no, Harry James, and that is final. If you need a few smacks to get the point across, I’ll gladly oblige.”

               Harry angrily pushed his plate away and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, and looking away. Severus bit his inner cheek to keep from scolding Harry about his attitude. As well behaved as Harry had been, he was probably overdue for a good bottom warming. He had been trying to be more lenient with his son, given the circumstances, but if Harry didn’t change his tune in the next few minutes, he would get his son up to date on a spanking.

               “I do not want to hear any more about the Hogsmeade trips until the situation with Black has resolved itself.” Severus paused as he waited for Harry to respond, and when his son didn’t, he added, “Is that clear?”

               “Yes, sir,” Harry said.

               Severus tapped his finger on the table, clearing away their plates.

               “You may decide whether you wish to remain here tonight or head to your tower but decide quickly as curfew is in the next fifteen minutes.”

               It did not surprise Severus that Harry left for his tower that night.

               He knew Harry had been up to something earlier. Severus stormed through the castle quickly, hoping to intercept his son before he could return to some safe place and claim he had been there the whole time. He was nearly shaking in anger, and he hoped Harry had the sense to obey him as soon as he caught him. They could walk down quietly to their quarters with no drama, and then Severus could light into his son about his foolish, reckless actions. He knew Harry’s good behavior streak had been bound to end soon; he just hoped it wouldn’t have been like this. Of all the things Harry could have done, this was by far the worst.

               Severus climbed up the stairs, recalling the hall where he had seen his son loitering around earlier that afternoon. He had demanded that Harry return to his tower or follow him down to their quarters then as he had a feeling Harry was up to no good. Harry had still been upset over Severus’s refusal to take Harry to Hogsmeade for the trip the last couple of weeks, holding a grudge that would have rivaled Severus’s own grudges.

               A sharp turn down the hall, and he heard fast footsteps ahead of him. He clenched his fists at his side as he hastened his steps, wanting to catch Harry red-handed.

               Just as he was about to turn down another hall, Harry came barreling over the turn, nearly running right into Severus, who caught his son by his shoulders, halting him immediately.

               Harry gasped and his eyes widened.

               “So,” Severus said, confirming his suspicions in his head. He took in Harry’s sweaty appearance and muddy hands, which Harry quickly shoved in his pockets. Harry tried to give him an innocent look, but he was still panting from his run, and his eyes could not quite meet Severus’s.

               “Follow me down to our quarters this instant,” Severus growled, then he released Harry and turned sharply on his heels, heading back for his quarters.

               He heard Harry gulp before the child followed him.          

               Severus had been hopeful the walk back to his quarters would calm him down some, now that he had seen Harry safe and unharmed, but the opposite was true. He was more furious now than he had been when he heard Draco’s story. They walked down the stairs back to the dungeons, arriving quicker than he would have liked back to his quarters, and he pointed at the chair in the living room.

               “Sit,” he commanded.

               Harry quickly sat down in the armchair, giving Severus an apprehensive look. Severus stood in front of Harry and crossed his arms.

               “Mr. Malfoy has just been to see me with a strange story,” Severus said. “He tells me that he was up by the Shrieking Shack when he ran into your friend, Weasley—apparently alone.”

               Harry said nothing and he appeared to still be catching his breath.

               “Mr. Malfoy states that he was standing talking to Weasley, when a large amount of mud hit him in the back of the head. How do you think that could have happened?”

               “I don’t know,” Harry said softly.

               “No?” Severus said, staring down his son, who looked away from his gaze. He paused a moment before saying. “Mr. Malfoy then saw an extraordinary apparition. Can you imagine what it might have been?”

               “No, sir, I don’t know.”

               “It was your head, Harry,” Severus growled. “Floating in midair.”

               “Well,” Harry started, still avoiding eye contact. “Maybe he’d better go to Madam Pomfrey if he’s seeing things like that.”

               “What would your head have been doing in Hogsmeade, Harry?” Severus said softly. “Your head is not allowed in Hogsmeade. No part of your body has permission to be in Hogsmeade.”

               “I know that,” Harry said, his face trying hard not to reveal any guilt. “It sounds like Malfoy’s having hallucinations.”

               “Malfoy is not having hallucinations,” Severus snarled as he bent down, a hand on each arm of Harry’s chair, so that their faces were a foot apart. “If your head was in Hogsmeade, so was the rest of you. After everything we’ve talked about, you went behind my back and took off to the one place I forbid you to be. What I want to know is how you did it.”

               Harry remained silent, looking down at his hands in his lap.

               “Where is your cloak?” Severus asked. “It’s missing from my room.”

               Apparently, Harry knew he was caught, and he slowly reached into his robe and pulled out the Invisibility Cloak Severus had been holding onto for his son until he was a more responsible age for it. Severus snatched the cloak from his son and sent it flying back to where he had been keeping it. He would have to charm the cloak now to let him know when Harry fell for the temptation to take it and use it. He shook his head at his son disappointingly.               

               “Now,” Severus continued, placing his hands on the arms of the chair again. “How did you get past the dementors?”

               Harry refused to speak, keeping a determined look at his hands in his lap.

               “I am losing my patience with you, young man,” Severus said.

               Harry’s hands squeezed each other worryingly but Harry kept his lips sealed.

               Severus growled under his breath before he said, “Turn out your pockets.”

               “What?” Harry’s head snapped up. “Why?”

               “Do as I say. Now.”

               Harry’s hands shook as he reached into his pockets, pulling out a bag of Zonko’s tricks and an old piece of parchment. Severus accepted the Zonko’s bag first, looking at it with disdain before eyeing his son.

               “Was risking your life truly worth a small bag of tricks?” Severus spat, and Harry looked down again, his eyes watering now. Severus narrowed his eyes at his son as he set the bag down on the coffee table behind him, then took the parchment from his son, turning it over, unfolding it, then folding it back up. He glanced up at his son.

               “What is this?” he asked.

               “Spare bit of parchment,” Harry said with a shrug.

               “Surely you don’t need such a very old piece of parchment. Why don’t I just throw this away?” Severus moved his hand toward the fireplace where a fire was steadily blazing to warm the room.

               “No!” Harry cried suddenly, sitting up more in his seat.

               “So,” Severus said triumphantly, “what is this really? A letter, perhaps, written in invisible ink? Or instructions to get into Hogsmeade without passing the dementors?”

               Harrys eyes watered more, and he shook his head, clearly not wanting to reveal whatever the parchment was. Severus rolled his eyes and pulled out his wand, and Harry looked down again.

               “Reveal your secret,” Severus muttered, tapping the parchment with his wand. When nothing happened, he tapped the parchment more urgently as he demanded, “Show yourself! Professor Severus Snape commands you to yield the information you conceal!”

               Then, as though an invisible hand was writing on it, words appeared on the smooth surface of the parchment.

               Mr. Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape and begs him to keep his abnormally long nose out of other people’s business.

               Severus froze, realizing exactly who the parchment had once belonged to, and the thought infuriated him, especially considering that Harry had it in his possession. The parchment kept going, adding insult after insult, and Severus noted his son’s dumbfounded look, and he knew this was not what the parchment had previously been used for. It hid something more, and he would get to the bottom of it once and for all. Obviously, that wouldn’t be from Harry, who was too tongue-tied about the true value of the parchment. He gave his son a disappointed look.

               “You are in so much trouble, little boy,” Severus said lowly, shaking his head at Harry, who swallowed and looked down. Severus sighed and pointed a finger down the hall. “Go to your room.”

               Harry hesitated.

               “Now, young man. I will be in to deal with you in a few minutes. Get dressed out of those filthy clothes, and you better be prepared with a long explanation and an apology when I come in.”

               Harry shot out of the chair and nearly ran for his room.

               Severus waited until he heard Harry’s room door shut before he walked over to his fireplace, grabbing a handful of powder and tossing it into the flames.

               “Lupin,” Severus called. “I want a word.”

               The flames revolved quickly before Lupin appeared in them and stepped out of the flames.

               “You called Severus?” Lupin said mildly.

               “I certainly did,” Severus growled, unable to keep the fury off his face. He handed the parchment over to Lupin. “I have just confiscated this from Harry.”

               Lupin accepted the parchment and frowned at it, reading over the words that had appeared while gently crinkling the old material in his hands, as if lost in memory.

               “Well?” Severus demanded. “What was my son carrying around, Lupin?”

               Lupin hesitated, his brown eyes meeting Severus’s dark ones, then he sighed heavily.

               “This is an old map of the castle, of the entire castle, that tells you where professors are at any given time and shows some secret tunnels out of the castle. I have no clue how Harry came upon it. Filch had confiscated it years ago.”

               “I knew it,” Severus spat. “I knew it all along that there was no way you and your pesky friends could have gotten away with so much so easily. And now look what’s happened, Harry’s snuck out of the castle! What if Black had found that?”

               “I agree that Harry should have turned this in the moment he found it, especially where Black is concerned. I would not want any harm to come to Harry, surely you know that.”

               “I do not want to see that in my son’s possession again,” Severus said.

               “Of course, Severus,” Lupin agreed. “I will make sure that this disappears.”

               Severus stepped back pointedly, and Lupin nodded once and took his leave. Severus let out a heavy breath. A map of the entire castle, of course, Harry would find that old thing and sneak out. What child wouldn’t use it? Yet, after everything he had spoken to Harry about, all the rules regarding Black, all the safety measures he had put in place for his son—thrown out the window without a second thought. Harry had been doing so well just to break only a quarter of the way through the year. Severus slowly walked to his son’s room, thinking over how he wanted to deal with Harry, how he could really pound into his son that his life was not to be trifled with. He wanted to make an impression on Harry to avoid this ever happening again.

               He knocked firmly on his son’s door before entering, and Harry sat up on his bed quickly, giving Severus a wary look. Harry had changed into a clean set of muggle clothes, obviously aware that he would not be leaving his room for some time.

               Severus paused in front of Harry and rested his hands on his hips, not saying anything as he narrowed his eyes and studied his son.

               “I’m really sorry, Dad,” Harry said.

               “Hmm,” Severus began, inclining his head. “I am deciding whether or not to take my belt to you, so I hope you have more to say than that.”

               “What?” Harry’s eyes widened. “No, Dad, please don’t do that. I really am sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking, I was just so tired of waiting for my chance to go to Hogsmeade and everyone else was having so much fun on the visits and I was upset that you kept saying no even with Black gone and . . .”

               Severus held up a hand and Harry stopped talking.

               “Slow down and breathe.” Severus waited a moment while Harry sucked in a shaky breath. “You did not have permission to go to Hogsmeade.”

               “I know.”

               “That alone should have kept you on Hogwarts property. But instead, you went sneaking behind my back, stole your invisibility cloak from my room, found some map of the castle—yes, I know it was a map—and instead of turning it in, you used it to sneak out of the one place you were safe from Black. What if Black had gotten his hands on that map? Do you have any idea how easy it would have been for him to get to you? And none of us would have known how he did it! You would just disappear!”

               “I’m sorry!” Harry cried, leaning forward, and covering his face with his hands, sobbing into his hands. “I shouldn’t have done it but nothing happened! I was fine and I had the invisibility cloak on just in case. No one would have seen me, I was safe.”

               “But someone did see you. And that someone could have easily been Black. You might have been invisible then, but if he had realized you were there under that cloak, Harry, there are so many spells he could have used to find you despite it. This is exactly why I didn’t want you at Hogsmeade, there are too many risks. It is far too easy for someone to sneak around the town unnoticed, and what if Black had seen you and snatched you before you could get back to the school? Was risking your life really worth it? Are you happy now? You went on the Hogsmeade trip; did you enjoy it?”  

               “At first,” Harry answered honestly, wiping at his face, “but not anymore.”             

               “Well, remember that small happy moment you had there because it is going to be a very long time before you ever set foot in Hogsmeade again. And I don’t care if Black is caught and given the Kiss next week, you will not be going to Hogsmeade this year.”

               Harry sniffled again, trying hard to hold back more tears.  

               “I am so disappointed in you, Harry, and so betrayed by your actions.” His words made Harry start crying again, but he felt a twinge of guilt saying them, but he felt more hurt by Harry’s actions than that small amount of guilt could not erase. “You were doing so well. I thought I had finally gotten through to you. I guess I was mistaken.”

               “No, you’re not. I knew I shouldn’t have gone. I shouldn’t have done it. I almost didn’t.”

               “Yet, you went anyway.”

               “I know. And I can’t take it back. I should have just waited until Black was caught.”

               “Yes, you should have. Now I have to punish you because you didn’t.”

               “Please don’t use your belt, Dad, please,” Harry begged, his face tear-streaked and his eyes red.

               “Hmm,” Severus said, crossing his arms, drumming his fingers lightly against himself. It was hard enough to find the will to spank Harry when the child was already sobbing his heart out, but this offense was serious. He could not let this slide with a slap on the wrist. But he really didn’t want to pull his belt off and use it on his son, not yet, anyway. It reminded him too much of his own father, who would often strike without good cause, and Harry was already so repentant. He had taken away Hogsmeade for the year regardless of Black’s capture, and Harry was grounded to their quarters once more for an indefinite time. Maybe he was becoming too soft, but he sighed and nodded his head.

               “No belt. Not this time. But you are being reacquainted with the brush, young man.”

               Harry kept crying, not the least bit comforted by that. Severus gently lifted Harry off his bed, then sat down where Harry had been sitting. He positioned Harry between his knees, removed his son’s glasses, then angled Harry’s chin up, so they were eye to eye.

               “You are being punished for stealing your cloak, sneaking off to Hogsmeade, and lying to me about the map. I understand how frustrated you are with the circumstances, but I—the entirety of Hogwarts staff—is doing everything in our power to keep you safe. You do not make it easy by disobeying the rules put in place for you. Do you want to be kidnapped? Do you want Black to get you?”

               Harry shook his head, too choked by his tears to speak.

               “Then you need to respect the rules and obey them to the letter. This behavior you’ve displayed today is not you. You can be a very well-behaved child when you want to be. You’ve proven that to me. If you can keep that behavior up, you won’t find yourself in this position.”

               Harry nodded, more tears escaping his eyes as he blinked.

               With that said, Severus turned Harry over his knees, baring his son’s bottom before summoning the hair brush off Harry’s dresser. He wasted no time lighting a fire on his son’s bottom, Harry’s sobs increasing in the room, his legs kicking out involuntarily.

               Harry was far overdue for a spanking, and Severus made sure it was a hard and long one. He didn’t want to repeat this lesson for a long time—never, if possible. But he knew the likelihood of that was slim with Harry’s record. His penchant for trouble was too powerful for the poor child to have a full six months of good behavior, despite his best efforts. Severus raised his knee the slightest and made sure to focus on Harry’s sit spots, hardening his heart to Harry’s loud yelps.

               After a few minutes, Severus set the brush aside and righted Harry’s clothes. He pulled his son to his feet, and Harry immediately hugged his father, sobbing into Severus’s shoulder. Severus carefully scooped his son into his lap, mindful of the throbbing bottom. Harry only cried harder.

               “I don’t deserve this,” Harry muttered.

               “Don’t deserve what?” Severus asked softly, though he had a feeling he knew what Harry was talking about.

               “I don’t deserve a hug after,” Harry said. “I hurt you and broke your trust and lied . . .”

               “Yes,” Severus said, pressing his son’s head into his shoulder to muffle him. “You did some pretty awful things. But you’ve been punished for them, and I’m reminding you that I still love you. Nothing you do will change that. Ever.”

               “I’m really sorry.”

               “I know. Try to calm down. I would like you to rest in your room for a few hours when you’ve calmed down. You are grounded to your room for the rest of today, then to our quarters until I say otherwise.”

               “Don’t leave me yet,” Harry whispered.

               “I won’t. Not until you’re ready. Take your time, son.”

               Severus held Harry as the teenager calmed down, rubbing his back gently, waiting for as long as Harry needed him to.

Chapter Text

It was nearing midnight and Severus was still trying to finish grading the seventh years’ essays so he would have his weekend free of work. In his attempt to keep his weekend light, it meant staying up late several nights in a row, and he was starting to feel the stress of poor sleep as he struggled to keep his eyes open on the grossly offensive attempt of an essay in front of him. His quill nearly trailed off when he dozed for a brief second before jerking awake and sitting up a bit more in his armchair. He waved his hand over the essay to erase the blemish the ink left from his quill and forced himself to focus on the words. Only five more essays to read through and he would have no work for the weekend. He could do this.

               His eyes were closing against his will, and he startled when he felt a hand on his shoulder, his eyes flashing open and narrowing in on Harry, who was standing next to him rubbing an eye blearily.

               “You’re falling asleep grading again, Dad,” Harry said through a yawn.

               “So I am,” Severus agreed softly, looking down at the papers in his lap. “What are you doing up?”

               “I couldn’t sleep,” Harry confessed. “Guess I’m just wound up from the Quidditch game and party still.”

               “I doubt that,” Severus scoffed. “You look ready to pass out any second now.”

               “Well, so do you,” Harry argued. “You were sleeping when I came out here. Maybe you should stop grading tonight. You have all weekend, you know.”

               “Yes, but I was hoping to have no work for the weekend,” Severus said. He sighed and relented, setting aside the few remaining essays to finish first thing in the morning. At least there was only a few left to do. Severus stood up with a stretch, then looked down at his son and quirked a brow. “Is there a reason you decided to come out here instead of trying to fall asleep in your room?”

               “I wanted to get a drink,” Harry answered with a cheeky smile. “But your snoring distracted me.”

               “I was not snoring,” Severus shot back. He waved his hand, summoning a glass of water then handed it to Harry. “Here. Have your drink and back to bed with you.”

               Harry smirked as he accepted the glass, taking a few gulps as he walked back toward his bedroom, Severus following. Harry carefully slid into bed with the cup in his hand before he finished the water and handed the glass back to Severus. Severus vanished the glass then pulled the blanket up and around his son before sitting on the edge of the bed. Even though Harry was still grounded to their quarters, for image’s sake, Harry continued with his quidditch practices and games. His absence from the dorms was explained as Harry needing to stay with a professor again for safety due to an uptick in Sirius Black sightings.

               The Quidditch game had been a frightening one as Harry had fainted on the field after an encounter with a few dementors, and Severus had been beside himself with worry in the hospital wing for most of the afternoon, but Madam Pomfrey assured him he would make a full recovery and he was lucky that Albus Dumbledore had slowed down Harry’s fall and caught him before he could hit the ground. Severus had been absent from the game due to a detention scheduling conflict, but he was grateful for Albus’s rescue.

               Of course, Harry insisted he was fine and wanted to attend the after party with his friends in the Gryffindor common room. Even though the team had lost, they liked to celebrate the game to keep spirits high. Severus, against his better judgement, had agreed to an hour of party time, and Harry had managed to surprise Severus by arriving at their quarters fifteen minutes early, though his exhausted look may have been the real reason behind the promptness. 

               “Do you think you can settle down now and get some sleep?” Severus asked.

               “I don’t know,” Harry said with a shrug. He fought a yawn. “I’m still not that tired.”

               “So I see. Perhaps we can chat a few minutes then until you feel more tired.”

               “I’d like that. Hey, did you know that Buckbeak was given a free pass for his supposed attack on Malfoy? They’re not going to execute him.”

               “Yes, I was informed of the small victory. The headmaster managed to pull some strings and the situation was investigated thoroughly before a decision was made. Even Malfoy Senior’s influence in the ministry wasn’t enough to condemn that creature to an early death.”

               “I’m happy for him. And Hagrid. He was blaming himself for the whole thing when we kept telling him it wasn’t his or Hagrid’s fault. Malfoy was an idiot.”

               “Don’t talk like that about your classmates,” Severus scolded lightly. “Malfoy’s actions were very immature and dangerous, but that does not make him an idiot. Besides, I know of a certain student who’s pulled very similar stunts in his Hogwarts career thus far.”

               “I’ve never—” Harry hesitated, as if realizing which stunts Severus was referring to, then looked away abashedly. “I don’t mean to.”

               “I suppose that is where you and Mr. Malfoy differ. You never intend to cause trouble.”

               Harry chuckled, then yawned and rolled on to his side, facing Severus.

               “When do you think I can be off restriction?” Harry asked. At Severus’s sigh, Harry added, “I’m tired of seeing nothing but classes, the Great Hall, and our rooms. I can’t even go to the library without an escort, you, namely.”

               Severus didn’t say anything for a few moments as he studied his son. He could understand Harry’s frustrations, but the Hogsmeade incident was still fresh in his mind, and he wasn’t ready to let Harry out of his sight yet. He wanted to trust that Harry would not pull a stunt like that again, but unfortunately, he just wasn’t at that stage yet. He sighed after much internal deliberation and shook his head.

               “I’m sorry, Harry. I understand how frustrating all of this has been on you, but I do not feel comfortable lifting your restriction yet.”

               “But Dad,” Harry began to protest.

               “I know you’ll say you’ll never do something like what you did again. You’ll promise me a thousand times over, but as it is, Black still has not been caught, and I do not want you falling for the temptation of the Hogsmeade trips again.”

               “I won’t.”

               “My decision is final. You will remain in these quarters until I feel you have learned how imperative it is to keep yourself safe while Black is loose, or until Black is captured. Whichever comes first, I suppose.”

               “I’ve learned.”

               “I’m sure you feel that way. I do not.”

               “How would you know if I’ve learned it or not?”

               “For starters, you would not be arguing with me on this decision.”

               Harry snapped his mouth shut, tightening his hold on his pillow as he fought to keep from glaring at Severus, who snorted at his attempt to keep quiet.

               “A good start. We will revisit this topic at a later date. For now, trust that I have your best interest in mind.”

               “Yes, sir.”

               Seeing Harry’s crestfallen face dampened Severus’s own spirits slightly, and he felt the smallest pang of regret at refusing Harry’s request to be ungrounded. Still, he was not ready to free Harry from his sight while Black was still out there somewhere. With that said, he could understand Harry’s boredom and need for outside enrichment. A little fresh air might do wonders for Harry’s attitude and keep him in line a while longer through this punishment, and Severus did have a few errands to run tomorrow, though one of them wasn’t exactly child friendly. Severus debated whether bringing Harry along with him was worth it and he came to a decision with a heavy sigh.

               “How about you and I take the day tomorrow and visit Diagon Alley?” Severus asked.

               “Really?” Harry’s eyes brightened.

               “I have a couple errands to run, but then we can stop at a few shops of your choosing and perhaps eat lunch out as well.”

               “I would love that.”

               “I just ask that you remain on your best behavior while I complete my errands, and you do everything I ask of you, no questions asked. Is that clear?”

               Harry slowly frowned but nodded all the same.

               Severus hesitated once more, contemplating how he would complete his one errand if Harry was with him, but in the end, it shouldn’t take him long and he could find a way to keep Harry busy during the duration of it. He smiled at his son and ruffled his hair.

               “Then it’s settled. Get to sleep. I am going to finish grading the few assignments I have left in the morning and then we will head out.”

               “Night, Dad,” Harry said with a grin as he closed his eyes, allowing Severus to tuck the blanket snug around him. He fell asleep quickly, and Severus retired for the night as well.

               The next morning, Severus led Harry through Diagon Alley to the apothecary first in order to restock his supply closets. With the way many of his students butchered prepping ingredients, it was no surprise he flew through so much of his stock so quickly. If only he could force students to pay for restocking supplies out of their own pocket money, then maybe they would show a little more care in handling their ingredients. Of course, some one-on-one remedial lessons with Harry had fixed many of his son’s struggles in the class. Well, he would not be offering that to every student that walked through his classroom door.

               The apothecary was fairly quiet for a Saturday morning, which Severus appreciated. He grabbed a basket and began collecting containers of herbs and spices, jars of frog legs and pickled ashwinder eggs, dried bat wings and lizard tongues, flobberworms, and finally, moondew. Harry followed behind him with a slightly bored expression, but Severus knew he was acting on his best behavior in order to explore some stores of his choosing after Severus finished with his errands. Severus pulled out a slip of parchment with a list of everything he had wanted to collect and spotted that he was missing murtlap tentacles. He had not seen a stash of it anywhere in the store, so he headed for the counter, pleased that Harry was staying at his side despite the boring shopping trip.

               “I see you are out of murtlap tentacles,” Severus told the shopkeeper. “You wouldn’t happen to have any more in the back, would you?”

               “Our murtlaps are not of age yet to have their tentacles harvested,” the shopkeeper said. “In another month, we should be able to restock.”

               “You are sure there is nothing in your backstock? You’re not even going to check?”

               The shopkeeper sighed heavily before stepping away from the counter and disappearing behind a backdoor. Sometimes, Severus managed to score a few stray ingredients by being a little insistent with the shopkeepers. He waited patiently, checking on Harry out of the corner of his eye. Harry was absently scanning through some of the display shelves holding various odd ingredients, such as pumpkin seeds, dried flowers, and dragon teeth. Harry picked up one of the dragon teeth, admiring the size and shape, as this one resembled a very large shark tooth.

               “That is from a Great North Atlantic Wolfdragon,” Severus said, catching Harry’s attention. “A large sea dragon roaming the coldest northern waters from the North Atlantic to the Arctic Ocean all the way to the Russian High Arctic. They spend much of their time sleeping after feasting on large fish and sharks.”

               “That’s brilliant,” Harry said, running a finger along the edges of the tooth.

               “Indeed. Like sharks, when one tooth falls out, another replaces it, so their teeth do end up on shore now and then, and once ground up into a fine powder, it can be useful in adding strength to reenergizing potions, but it’s used more commonly in lengthening shelf life of any potion.”

               “Potions have a shelf life?”

               “Of course they do.” Severus resisted rolling his eyes. “Even magic cannot retain its full capabilities forever, especially when shoved into a tiny vial. Most potions keep for about six months, few are known to be fully potent at twelve months. Generally, after one year, there is not an ounce of magic left in a single vial of a Pepper-up.”

               “That’s why you always have to restock the infirmary. I always thought we just went through them all so quickly.”

               “If only.” Severus returned his attention to the shopkeeper as he returned with a few murtlap tentacles. “I see you were successful in tracking down a few tentacles for me?”

               “They may be a bit old, so I wouldn’t use them in any emergency potions,” the shopkeeper said.

               “Of course not. They will make great specimens for students to practice with.”

               The shopkeeper checked Severus out, and Severus had the items owled to Hogwarts. Once Harry finished admiring the dragon teeth collection, Severus led the way out of the apothecary, planning to head straight for Potage’s Cauldron Shop next. While many students had their own standard pewter cauldron, there were times he paired students up to use a special cauldron for a particular potion, and the first years never failed to ruin those cauldrons. Severus needed to resupply several brass, copper, and silver cauldrons. If he collected about twelve of each, that should give him enough to get through the rest of the school year. Theoretically speaking, of course.

               As the two walked by several other small shops to get to the northern side of Diagon Alley, they were intercepted by Lucius Malfoy exiting a pet grooming salon.

               “Why, if it isn’t the great Potter,” Lucius sneered, tapping his cane against the ground. “What lowly task has the headmaster forced upon you now, Severus?”

               “Good day to you as well, Lucius,” Severus sneered back, resisting rolling his eyes. He saw Harry frown at Lucius but was pleased when Harry remained quiet. “I do not see how the daily life of the Hogwarts students concerns you in any way, unless of course, you are asking of your own son?”

               “You send me quarterly reviews, as I’ve requested. I am well aware of how Draco is doing in his classes. I did notice him slipping slightly in Transfiguration, however. Surely you have tutors to assist the students when their grades fall below an Outstanding?”

               “They receive tutors when they ask for them.”

               “I’ll be sure Draco asks within the week, then. No son of mine will score below a mudblood.”

               “Maybe if Malfoy applied himself to his studies and less to bullying the other students, he’d keep his grades up,” Harry mumbled just loud enough to be heard by both men.

               “Silence, Mr. Potter,” Severus scolded in his teacher’s voice, narrowing his eyes slightly at Harry.

               “Yes,” Lucius agreed. “Children should be seen, not heard. “And Draco’s grades are in the ninety ninth percentile. I’d say he’s doing very well despite what he may choose to do in his free time. It’s a dog-eat-dog world, Potter. One must be willing to do whatever it takes to stay at the top.”

               “Speaking of dogs,” Severus interrupted before Harry could say anything else that would no doubt infuriate Lucius, “I see you’ve dropped off your mongrels for pampering. Perhaps you’d wish to harass the groomers on their techniques, rather than a thirteen-year-old child on his academic success?”

               Lucius glared at Severus, but seemed to take the hint that continuing this banter would not look great for his public image.

               “Those mongrels are worth five times your salary,” Lucius said. “And I have full confidence in their groomers, lest they want to be sued for maltreatment of my dogs.” Lucius lifted his cane and pushed Harry aside with it, causing Harry to nearly trip over his own feet. Lucius stepped between the two as he said, “I have errands of my own to run while they finish up. Good day, Severus. I hope the headmaster does not torture you with babysitting often.”

               “If only,” Severus said, nodding his head in farewell as Lucius strolled down the path, ignoring the rise of protective anger he felt over Lucius’s actions. Oh, if he could tear Lucius a new one for daring to touch his son, he would, but as it was, he could not expose himself as a traitor just yet. No, that would put himself and Harry in danger, so he swallowed down the anger and waited until Lucius was out of earshot before he said, “You had to open your mouth.”

               “Sorry,” Harry said without any sincerity in his voice. He rubbed his shoulder where Lucius had smacked him with the cane. “Won’t he get suspicious now that he’s seen us out together.”

               “It is not the first time I’ve escorted a student to Diagon Alley for supplies. He will most likely think this is one of those times.” Severus stepped closer to Harry, applying light pressure to where Harry was rubbing his arm. “Are you alright?”

“I’m okay,” Harry said despite wincing at the pressure Severus applied. “It’ll bruise, I think. He’s not allowed to do that, is he?”

“Of course not, but it’s hardly a fight worth getting into. I can apply a bruise balm when we get home if it still hurts. If we run paths again, do not speak to him. I dare say you’ve done enough to him in the past without raising more of his ire.”

               “He’s deserved everything he ever got,” Harry mumbled.

               “Just try to hold your tongue around him.” Severus rested a hand on Harry’s shoulder and steered him through the crowd, finally getting themselves to the cauldron shop. “For my sanity, please.”

               Harry only smirked.

               After collecting all the cauldrons he needed and having them air delivered to Hogwarts, Severus stopped at a stationary shop where he grabbed new red ink and fresh quills for grading and insisted that Harry pick out a new quill for himself. Harry was adamant that he did not need a new quill but settled on a beautiful teal occamy feather. Severus merely wanted to spoil Harry a little, especially after Lucius’s display. After one last stop at the cobbler for heel replacements and resoling of Severus’s boots, and resizing of Harry’s shoes, Severus checked his watch and realized he had ten minutes to be at his next appointment.

               “This next task I need to complete alone,” Severus explained to Harry as he led the way toward the southern end of Diagon Alley. “You will wait in the café while I speak with an acquaintance behind the counter. You are not to leave the room until I’ve returned, is that clear?”

               “Yes, sir. Who are you meeting with?”

               “That is none of your concern.”

               “But I thought if—”

               “No, Harry. We discussed this last night. You do as I say, no questions asked.”

               “You can’t expect me not to have questions.” Harry stopped walking as they came up to the café in question. “Especially when the café is for sale.”

               The building was on the edge of Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley, a small, decrepit teahouse with peeling paint and two large “For Sale” signs plastered on broken windows. Tattered parasols were leaning against the side of the building while tables and chairs were stacked up in a very chaotic arrangement. Severus paused to look back at Harry’s unsure face, and he sighed before gesturing Harry to follow.

               “This café has been closed for a few years now and the business is waiting to be sold for repurpose. But it provides a nice place for private conversations.”

               “So anyone is allowed to enter.”

               No, was the correct answer but Severus caught himself and thought over a more appropriate answer for Harry’s ears. As much as he didn’t like to lie to Harry, this situation called for it. He could not tell Harry why he was meeting someone here, or what the conversation may consist of. He had received some intel from an informant of his own about an artifact he would have interest in, and he was sure it related to the Dark Lord.

               “I have received permission to use the building for my meeting today,” Severus said, waving Harry toward him. “It is temporary permission, so do not make me late.”

               Harry slowly stepped forward, following Severus to the front door. Severus took a moment to discreetly glance around the alley, but thankfully, no one was around this corner of Diagon Alley, as he expected. He hesitated as he grabbed the door handle, silently praying that it was already unlocked so he did not have to break into the shop in front of his son. His prayers were answered as the door clicked open.

               Severus pulled Harry into the shop and pushed him down into a chair close to the counter.

               “Wait here,” Severus said. “Do not move from this spot or leave this building for any reason. I will be right back. I should not be more than a few minutes, and then we will have lunch and stop at any shops of your choosing.”

               “Can’t you tell me why—”

               “No, Harry. Trust me. This is important business but I cannot tell you what it entails for your own safety.”

               Harry sighed heavily, resting his head in his arms on the cool table.

               “Fine,” Harry pouted.

               “I’ll be right back. Do not move from here.”

               Severus watched Harry as he stepped behind the counter, then stepped behind a door that led to a back room that was dimly lit. He would have to trust that Harry would obey his orders while he discussed matters with his informant. He was already regretting bringing Harry along, but if this went off without a hitch, he would feel better dragging Harry to the Quidditch store or even the ice cream parlor. Following the dim lighting into a storage space, Severus came face to face with the man he needed to meet with. He quickly cast a silencing and muffling charm in all directions, so no sound would get in or out of the small bubble encasing the two. One could never be too careful, and he would not risk any penetration of the charm from either side.

               “Snape,” Mundungus Fletcher greeted calmly from where he was leaning against an empty shelving unit, fiddling with a locket on a chain.

               “Is that the device you owled me about?” Severus asked, cutting straight to the point. He didn’t want to leave Harry unattended for too long.

               “It is,” Mundungus said, holding out the locket to Severus.

Severus accepted the gold locket, staring at the serpentine S, inlaid with glittering, green stones. There was a strange heavy weight to the locket, as if something more invaded the gold jewelry, and it rattled inside the object like cockroaches wishing to be free. Severus felt an unease settle over him, and he glanced back at Mundungus.

“Funny story,” Mundungus said. “I was selling at Coffin House—just some items I come across—and these dark robed fellows were purchasing some necromancy tomes; somethin’ bout raising the dead and all that, but then they mentioned You-Know-Who’s experimentin’ with immortality, and he had found a solution.”

Severus had always figured the Dark Lord would one day return. The Dark Mark on his arm never faded away completely that fateful night, and it reminded Severus every day of the inevitable rise of the Dark Lord. He glanced at the device in his hands, then back at Mundungus as the thief spoke once more.

“Figured they were Death Eaters,” he said. “But they said that that Lestrange woman had been entrusted with one of You-Know-Who’s “experiments,” and she hid it away somewhere. Something that would keep the Dark Lord alive forever. Then I heard the word: horcrux.”

Severus frowned, vaguely recalling the word in a brief study of immortality, but he had never pursued the knowledge, as it was magic darker than he had been willing to dive into.

“Had to ask the shopkeeper about it and even he paled; got all stuttering about how wrong it was. Said that horcrux was literally a ripped-out piece of your soul stuffed into an artifact. He said if you made one then you couldn’t ever die until that horcrux was destroyed. And the only way to make a horcrux is by taking another life.”

A piece of the Dark Lord’s soul existed in this locket? Severus felt a shiver down his spine as he stared at the S symbol, realizing how much it looked like a miniscule snake. He shook his head as the implication that the Dark Lord made more than one horcrux struck him suddenly. How many of these were there? And what were the artifacts that held the Dark Lord’s soul? Were they all easily accessible?

“You believe that this locket is a horcrux?” Severus asked for clarification.

“There’s somethin’ wrong with that locket, I tell you.” Mundungus stared at it with a dark look in his eyes. “It messes with your head if you wear it too long, plays with your worst nightmares and all that. Stole that from the Black residence, and you know that place was littered with all sorts of dark arts. And if Lestrange has one horcrux, then I wouldn’t be surprised if another Black had one. They were all followers, that lot.”

Mundungus had a point there. Severus cast a containment charm on the locket and shoved it into an inner robe pocket. He would bring this to Albus’s attention immediately.

“Why turn this in so quickly?” Severus asked.

“Look, I didn’t want to at first,” Mundungus answered honestly. “I wasn’t sure what I’d do with it, but I figured out quickly I couldn’t just break that effing thing. And I don’t honestly know where your loyalties lie, but Dumbledore said he trusted you, and you work close enough to him I figured you were the best associate to get this to Dumbledore. Sides’, you were one of the few contacts I had listed.”

“If you hear of any other horcruxes, report them back to me,” Severus demanded. “Who knows how many the Dark Lord created, and we will have to find them all before he returns.”

“I ain’t going digging for the information but I’ll let you know if I hear anything,” Mundungus said. “If that’s all, I’ll take my leave now.”

Severus nodded once and cancelled the silencing charms. He headed back for the front of the shop after watching Mundungus slip out a back door. The locket was a heavy weight in his robe but the containment charm he placed on it would keep any negative influences from affecting him. As he reentered the shop, Severus froze at the sight he was greeted with, his jaw dropping.

The room was trashed, a table and several chairs toppled over, glass and what looked like blood all over the floor, as if something had thrown itself through one of the broken windows. Small items that had been on the counter were scattered around the shop.

Something squeezed his heart painfully, blood pounded in his ears, and he felt panic rise like bile in his throat. Severus pulled out his wand and cast a locator charm. What on earth had happened in the few minutes he had left Harry alone? Regret overwhelmed him and he tried to push away the thoughts of how he should never have brought Harry along with him as he followed the pull of his wand out into the street, then down an empty alley in Knockturn.

This was his fault; he should never have brought Harry along with him. What kind of danger had he put Harry in? What on earth broke into the shop? Sirius Black struck his mind suddenly, and Severus prayed he was wrong.

As he turned a corner, the tug on his wand grew fierce and he ran after it to another empty alley where he saw Harry limping out of a dead-end street.

               “Harry!” Severus cried, rushing forward to support his child. He saw blood dripping from Harry’s left arm and his robes were bloody on the bottom right side. Rolling up Harry’s sleeve revealed four puncture wounds that bled profusely. Severus waved his wand over the wounds of his arm and leg to stop the bleeding at the very least. Harry was pale and leaned heavily against Severus.

               “What happened?” Severus asked.

               “Clearly a case of children running off where they shouldn’t be,” Lucius Malfoy suddenly said as he appeared down the path Severus had come from, two grey deerhounds at his side.

               Harry gasped and hid slightly behind Severus.

               “No, I was attacked by dogs,” Harry said. He pointed at Lucius’s dogs. “Your dogs!”

               “Making up stories will not get you out of trouble, Mr. Potter,” Lucius said snidely.

               “Although bite marks certainly help bring factuality to Mr. Potter’s story,” Severus shot back, glaring at Lucius.

               “If my dogs were at fault, they only chase and bite when provoked.”

               “After how much you spent on their training, I highly doubt those dogs chase anything unless they are told to.” Severus stepped closer to Lucius, growling slightly, “If I find out that you sent your dogs after a Hogwarts student on my watch, I will be forced to inform the headmaster, as is my obligation, and the headmaster will no doubt inform the board of education at the ministry. How do you think the board will feel about one of their beneficiaries attacking a student? Perhaps they’ll need to rabies test your mongrels to make sure the Boy-Who-Lived is disease free. Wouldn’t that be most . . . unfortunate for your dogs.”

               Lucius took a step back, putting some distance between Severus and himself.

               “Don’t pretend to care, Severus,” Lucius said. “Remember what side you are on.”

               With that, Lucius gave a low whistle and strode down the path, his two dogs following after him. Severus did note that the two dogs had a couple wounds themselves, and he frowned, trying to piece together what must have happened in his head.

               “I’m sorry,” Harry apologized when Severus turned back to him.

               “Don’t be, I should be apologizing to you,” Severus said. He assisted Harry in walking to a public restroom not too far down the path, and he settled Harry on one of the toilet seats before reaching into his robe for his emergency first aid kit. “I shouldn’t have used such strong privacy spells with you in the opposite room, especially after your encounter with Lucius earlier. I’m so sorry I wasn’t available for you, this never should have happened, especially when I was ten feet away from you. Perhaps I should have left you at Hogwarts after all.”

               “It’s not your fault. I’m okay, really.” Harry hissed as Severus rolled up his sleeve and his pant leg. “I’ve had worse.”

               “Hush.” Severus applied a healing balm with antibacterial properties to Harry’s bite wounds, starting with his arm. “Tell me what happened.”

               “I was sitting in the shop like you told me to, and then I heard the dogs. They were sniffing around and growling, like they were looking for me.” Severus recalled how Lucius had shoved Harry aside with his cane and cursed himself for not realizing how Lucius had planned to use that moment later. “Then they saw me in the shop and came barreling in. I tried to shout for you, but I guess you didn’t hear me with the spells you cast. So I ran. They caught up to me and started attacking me, but this big black dog attacked them and chased them off.”

               “What?” Severus paused in what he was doing and met Harry’s eyes.

               “Another dog came to my rescue. He was really nice. A bit scruffy and thin, but he tried to help me stand up, then he heard you coming and took off.”

               Severus felt fear grab at him again, but this time, it wasn’t nearly as strong as it had been when he found Harry missing with blood on the floor. And maybe that was because Harry was right in front of him, but the fear was still there. Severus applied the healing balm to Harry’s leg, then cast a cleaning charm on Harry’s robes and trousers while they both watched as the bite wounds closed on their own. Severus rubbed a hand down his face as he debated what he should do next.

               “You’re going to tell the headmaster, right?” Harry asked. “About Malfoy’s dogs attacking me?”

               “Of course,” Severus agreed. “But first, I need to confirm it was them. As well as see about this dog that saved you.”

               “How—oh, you mean through Legilimency. But why? Don’t you believe me?”

               “I do believe you. But if I see your memory, I can share that with Albus and any officials who would like proof without having to involve you again. And I am suspicious of this dog.”

               “Why? He saved me. And he was nice.”

               “Do you know what an animagus is, Harry?”

               “Yes. Like how Professor McGonagall can turn into a cat, right?”

               “Yes. Sirius Black is also an animagus. An unregistered one, but his form was a dog.”

               “You think the dog that saved me was Sirius Black?”

               “It is a possibility. I would like to see your memory to be sure. I can show the headmaster later who will verify whether it is who I believe it is.”

               “I’d really not live through that again,” Harry muttered, looking down at his knees.

Severus used a finger to tilt Harry’s chin up, so their eyes met.

“I know it was scary, but it will just be a memory. Nothing will actually hurt you this time. And it will just be this once, as I will be able to share this memory for future use should it be needed.”

Harry hesitated for a few seconds, licking his lips before biting his lower lip. He finally nodded.

“Okay,” he said. “I’m ready.”

“I’ll be quick,” Severus said before gently diving into Harry’s mind.

True to his word, he found the memory he needed to view, thankful that it was still in the forefront of Harry’s mind. He saw Harry sitting with his head in his arms at the table he left him at, a finger tracing mindless patterns in the dust on the tabletop. Severus moved off to the side to watch the events unfold from a better angle.

Severus heard them before he saw them. Two large grey dogs sniffed around outside the shop, growling softly. Harry turned to watch them, unease settling in the air, an emotion Severus was sure Harry was overwhelmed with in the moment. One of the dogs lifted its head at the door of the shop and looked directly at Harry.

It snarled before jumping up against the door, lunging and barking at Harry inside the shop.

Harry jumped to his feet and slowly backed away toward the counter Severus had disappeared behind. Severus once again cursed himself for the privacy charms he had used. Old habits died hard, and he vowed he would never put Harry in such a position again.

Suddenly, the second dog leaped through the broken glass, shattering it more, and Harry screamed and ran for the counter, only for the dog to leap across the room in a blink of an eye, jumping on the counter and stopping Harry dead in his tracks as it snarled at Harry.

               “Dad!” Harry cried, turning sharply and running in the opposite direction.

               The other dog jumped through the broken glass, avoiding breaking it more as it was now a much larger hole. It cut Harry’s escape off and snapped at the child, forcing Harry into a tight corner, the second one joining in herding Harry back.

               Harry made a bold decision and rushed to a table, knocking it over as the dogs charged forward, running into the table as Harry ran past it. Harry stumbled over a chair but shoved it aside as the dogs were at his heels, knocking over chairs to get to him. Harry managed to get to the door and ran out into the street. Unfortunately, the door was a push from the inside, and the dogs managed to plow into it and run out after Harry.

               Severus had to move quickly to keep up with the memory. He fought the temptation to hex the dogs as he reminded himself, he was in Harry’s memory. The dogs chased Harry down empty streets and into the dead-end street Severus had found Harry in. Harry realized too late it was a dead end and he slowed down as he hesitated, and it was enough for one of the dogs to catch up to Harry and grab his ankle, biting down and dragging him down the street.

               Harry cried out as he fell and he kicked at the dog, only for the second one to grab his arm and thrash it. Harry screamed.

               “Stop! Let go! Help!” Harry cried, and Severus felt Harry’s helplessness in his own chest, tears prickling his own eyes as he watched the scene, the guilt returning tenfold.

               And then he saw it. A black blur shot out of a side building window and landed on one of the dogs, sending them into a somersault. The black dog landed on top and snapped at the grey one before doubling back and charging the second grey dog that released Harry’s leg and snarled defensively at the black one.  

               Harry managed to drag himself away from the dog fight, his arm and leg bleeding, and Severus kept himself from rushing to Harry’s side to heal him.

               The black dog fought viciously with the two grey dogs, and his larger, heavier build (even in his scrawny state) gave him an upper hand over the two leaner dogs, and he managed to pin both dogs before the two ran off in a retreat, the black dog chasing after them to be sure they left. When the dog turned, his ears dropped and his tail tucked against his side before it crept back to Harry, whining pathetically.

               “Nice dog,” Harry told it, crawling back cautiously.

               The dog tilted his head, keeping a submissive posture before it sauntered closer and crawled under Harry’s arm and pushed up, giving Harry assistance in standing. Harry accepted the aid when he realized what the dog was doing. Once back on his feet, he kept a hand on the dog’s back as he limped out of the dead-end street.

               Severus heard footsteps running their way, and the black dog whined before backing away quickly, making Harry stumble slightly. The dog whined at Harry before jumping up on a dumpster and leaping over the wall, disappearing.

               Severus gently withdrew from Harry’s mind, waiting patiently as Harry collected his bearings and rubbed his eyes.

               “Do you think it was Black?” Harry asked.

               “With the way he acted,” Severus answered. “I am almost certain.”

               “Why do you think he saved me? He could have killed me then, or let the dogs finish the job.”

               “I don’t know,” Severus said honestly. The entire interaction was bizarre. Why had Black stepped in between two ferocious dogs and Harry? While he was grateful the dogs were not given the opportunity to kill Harry, the hero of the story left many unanswered questions. “Perhaps he is saving you for himself or he is waiting for the right moment.”

               Even as he said those words, he did not fully believe them. Something didn’t sit right with Severus about what he had witnessed. And based on the look on Harry’s face, he was sure his son didn’t fully believe it either.

               “That makes sense, I guess,” Harry said. He stretched his arm and leg. “I feel better. Can we still go to the Quidditch store? Please?”

               Severus really didn’t want to stay in Diagon Alley a moment longer, but he was still feeling awful for what had happened to Harry, and he’d do just about anything to make it right by his son. He figured one more store and then they were going straight back to his quarters where they could eat lunch in the safety of Hogwarts. He had a lot to discuss with the headmaster after all.

               “We may go for fifteen minutes,” Severus said. “Then we are going back to Hogwarts.”

               Harry grinned and nodded.

               Severus checked Harry over one last time.

               “You feel okay? No more lingering pain? No injuries I didn’t see?”

               “No, Dad, I feel okay, honest.”

               “If you’re sure,” Severus said before offering a hand and pulling Harry to his feet. “Don’t dawdle now. Fifteen minutes in the quidditch shop then back to Hogwarts.”

               “Got it. Come on!” Harry ran ahead, forcing Severus to follow his son at a brisk pace, the locket in his inner robe pocket feeling heavier by the minute. 

Chapter Text

            Weaving through the busy London streets under the glow of business lights, Severus carefully made his way through the crowd of people, being mindful to avoid coming in contact with anyone. The silk of the invisibility cloak flowed gently around passersby, nothing more than a gentle breeze like the evening wind, so it remained inconspicuous even if it brushed against someone. Severus kept a quick pace as he worked his way toward a side street that had far less people. Even on the darker street, he kept the cloak on and walked swiftly toward his destination.

            He didn’t expect to run into any familiar faces, but better safe than sorry if he did chance upon someone. He’d rather not come up with excuses as to what he was doing in some random location of London. It would not take even the dumbest of the Death Eaters long to work together what this area had once been, and that would only raise questions among the other followers. He wasn’t sure what tasks the others might already be performing, so keeping any run-ins to a minimum was essential.

            Finally, he arrived at the spot where Wool’s Orphanage once stood. Severus frowned at the newer building standing in its place—muggle offices, it would seem. The old orphanage had been torn down and replaced, destroying any evidence related to the children who once had to call the dreary residence home—including the Dark Lord. Severus sighed and stepped out of the way of a muggle hustling down the street, barely avoiding a collision.

            Pulling out his wand from his sleeve, Severus cast a charm to identify any magical residue but came up empty handed. It did not surprise Severus one bit that the Dark Lord would not leave anything behind at this location. The Dark Lord had never talked about his upbringing or childhood in any way, and it was only through Albus that Severus even knew where the Dark Lord had once lived. He had hoped to find some more clues about what the Dark Lord may have turned into horcruxes, but that clearly would not be tonight.

            With one last cautious scan of the area, Severus disapparated away.

            Once he got to Hogsmeade, he walked to Hogwarts, taking his time as he racked his brain for any other clues or devices he encountered while serving the Dark Lord. Nothing came to mind by the time he stepped foot into the castle and strode his way over to the headmaster’s office.

            “Severus,” Albus greeted as he set aside a book he was reading at his desk under candlelight. The room lit up more as torches and candles came to life. “Good evening to you. Any success?”

            “I’m afraid not. The orphanage has been demolished and rebuilt into muggle offices of some kind. I do not believe the Dark Lord would have valued anything from the orphanage enough to be a horcrux host anyway. He did not speak of it to his followers or in private conversation with me.”

            “I see. It was a good place to start,” Albus said as he stroked his beard. “We’ll keep searching and keep an ear out for any useful leads. Perhaps our old friend will provide us with something more in the future.”

            “How can you be so sure that the Dark Lord made several?” Severus asked.

            “Do you recall the diary that started the events of last year?”

            “I do.” Severus gave the headmaster a curious look. Lucius has been the kindle for that fiasco. He also recalled the fifteen hundred galleon fine Lucius was handed for neglectful handling of his dogs and injury to a minor. It was a slap on the wrist in Severus’s opinion, but he would take the small wins where he could.  

            “I have a suspicion that the diary may have been a horcrux.” Albus picked up the book he had been reading, tracing a finger under some lines in the page it was opened to. “Tom Riddle somehow managed to possess Ginerva Weasley, and when Harry stopped the diary, it destroyed Tom Riddle’s . . .  spirit, should we say?”

            “You believe that spirit may have actually been a horcrux?”

            “This old tome discusses some of the darkest magic in history. It does not talk much on horcruxes as few have ever followed through, but here, it mentions how basilisk venom was discovered to be effective in destroying a horcrux. I cannot think of anything else that may have possessed that diary now.”

            “I see. So the Dark Lord made at least two horcruxes.”

            “And I’m sure he didn’t stop there. We must be diligent in finding the other horcruxes before his return.”

            “Agreed. Were you able to dispose of the locket?”

            “I was—using the sword Harry had used to kill the basilisk last year. Somehow, the sword has been infused with the venom of the beast, and it was able to destroy the horcrux within the locket.”

            Severus did not like the reminder of Harry’s adventure in the chamber of secrets, but he said nothing and merely nodded his head in response to the headmaster.

            “I have also looked into Sirius’s Black’s case,” Albus continued. “As there was no trial, I do not have much to go on, but perhaps there is more to the story than meets the eye. However, only Sirius Black himself can provide some much-needed answers.”

            “Of course,” Severus said. While Severus was open to learning more of what actually happened that fateful night, he wasn’t convinced Black was innocent, and he was still just as likely to murder Black on the spot if he saw the man anywhere near his son, but if they were able to capture Black and return him to Azkaban for interrogation, he’d be fine with that. He could agree with Albus that it was only fair that Black had some sort of trial, especially after serving twelve years. If he was found guilty, nothing changed. If not . . . well, he didn’t want to think of that possibility at the moment.

            “I will keep you informed of anything I hear,” Severus said. “Regarding Black or the horcruxes.”

            “Thank you, Severus.”

            Severus left the headmaster’s office and headed down to his quarters, pulling off his black cloak and setting the invisibility cloak down on the coffee table. It was dinner time at this point, and he recalled that Harry had asked him earlier that day if he could have dinner with Lupin, which Severus begrudgingly agreed to as long as Lupin walked him down to their quarters when they were done.

            This meant Severus had an hour or so to himself, and he ate a small meal before sitting down in his study to work on grading for a bit. He started with the first years’ written exam essays. Sometimes, this was his least favorite job as a professor. Then other times, it was a welcomed distraction, especially from horcruxes and Black, and he pushed all those thoughts away to really focus on marking the essays, covering a couple of them in a lot of red ink.  

            The door to his study creaked slightly, and Severus glanced up at the noise, but the door had not opened much and seeing nothing there, Severus charted it up to a breeze in his quarters. Or a ghost. Both options were highly possible.

            Severus returned his attention to his grading, but he had the strangest notion that he was being watched, and he paused in his work once more, frowning at the page he had been reading through as he focused his senses on the room, listening carefully.

            He heard the barest huff of a breath behind him, and he swung out an arm and pinned the intruder against his side, earning a surprised squeak from Harry whose head slipped out of the invisibility cloak he was hiding under.

            “How did you know it was me?” Harry asked.

            “Who else would it be?” Severus said, keeping his son in a restrained hold. “What do you think you’re doing with that?”

            “I was trying to sneak up on you,” Harry said as he tried to wrestle out of his father’s hold. “But of course your dungeon bat hearing would catch me.”

            “You know,” Severus said in a thoughtful tone as he grabbed his wand. “I’ve been meaning to see how impervious that cloak is to curses.”

            “Oh no,” Harry protested, struggling against Severus as his father cast a tickling hex on him, and he laughed at the invisible fingers tickling his sides. He managed to pull away from Severus only to fall to the ground in fits of laughter, his head disappearing under the cloak as he squirmed in an attempt to get away from the tickling.

            “Dad,” Harry’s voice called out in a desperate tone between laughs, “please, make it stop.”

            “I can’t cancel the jinx if I can’t see you,” Severus said, though that was a complete lie. He merely wanted to drag out the torture a few seconds longer.

            “Okay, okay!” Harry threw the cloak off and Severus snorted at his son before canceling the spell. Harry took a few deep breaths as he mock glared at his father from the floor. “You’re mean.”

            “And you’re not?” Severus shot back. “What exactly were you planning to do sneaking up on me like that?”

            “Touché.” Harry stood up and flung his cloak around his shoulders, becoming a floating head once more. “You left this out on the coffee table. What were you doing with it?”

            “I must have moved it when I was reorganizing,” Severus answered casually. “Take that off and set it on my desk, then we can have some tea.”

            Harry pulled the invisibility cloak off and folded it up as best he could and set it on Severus’s desk. Severus waved a hand and a chair materialized in front of the desk. Harry plopped down in the seat and watched Severus patiently.

            “Portia,” Severus called out. “May we have tea and biscuits please?”

            Portia, a small house elf in a Hogwarts uniform, popped into the room with a tea tray covered with all the tea fixings and a plate of biscuits.

            “Portia is most happiest to serve Masters, she is,” Portia said with a big bow after she set the items in a cleared space on the desk. “Please call Portia if Masters is needing anything else.”

            Portia popped away while Harry immediately grabbed a biscuit and bit into it.

            “She’s always so nice,” Harry said around his mouthful. “I can’t imagine what would ever have made Eileen want to whip her.”

            “Talking with your mouthful would have been one of those instances,” Severus said, frowning at his son as he fixed himself a cup of tea.

            “Sorry,” Harry said after swallowing his food, then he shoved the rest of the biscuit in his mouth.

            Severus rolled his eyes before taking a sip of his tea. He returned to grading his essays while Harry made himself a cup of tea. When Harry seemed settled, Severus started a light conversation.

            “Ready for more exams tomorrow?” Severus asked.

            “One of them is yours,” Harry said. “I think I’m ready.”

            “Studied enough then? How do you feel about the exams you’ve done so far?”

            “Pretty good. Remus’s was fun! It was like an obstacle course, and he said I did a great job when it was over, so I think I passed.”

“That reminds me: how was your time with Professor Lupin this evening?”

            “It went well. We talked about my parents and all the friends they had in school.” Harry trailed off after that, staring down at his nails and picking at them.

            “Is there something troubling you?” Severus asked as he kept grading, sensing his son’s tension.

            “I just don’t get it,” Harry muttered.

            “What do you not get?” Severus pushed when Harry fell silent again.

            “How someone who was your best friend can just turn on you,” Harry said. “Sirius Black was my dad’s and Remus’s best friend, and Peter Pettigrew’s, and he just betrayed all of them! He was my dad’s best man at the wedding. How can someone pretend to be such a good friend and then just stab them in the back?”

            Harry had been growing teary eyed as he spoke, and Severus slowly set his quill down and looked over at his son. Harry was sitting in the chair with his head down, fighting back tears, his hands shaking the slightest. Severus sighed and set his grading quill down.

            “He was supposed to be a friend,” Harry continued. “Like Ron is to me or even Hermione—I would never turn on them, even at the threat of death, I wouldn’t.”

            “Harry,” Severus started.

            “Can you imagine killing your best friend?” Harry said. “How could he do that? And then he killed Peter Pettigrew—would he have killed Remus too? What kind of friend does that?”

            Severus was suddenly hit with several flashbacks of hearing the prophesy, relaying it to the Dark Lord, pleading with Albus, and then Lily’s death. He closed his eyes and occluded briefly before opening his eyes once more.

            “It’s okay to feel upset about what Black did . . .” Severus began to say.

            “It makes me angry, too,” Harry added quickly. “He should be punished for what he did. Appropriately. Azkaban doesn’t affect him and he’s clearly no afraid of the dementors.”

            “Harry,” Severus tried to interrupt.

            “It’s not fair! It’s not fair that he gets to live after killing my parents who he was supposed to protect. I would never do that to Ron and Hermione, I could never imagine doing that, and he’s out there free when he should be dead!”

            The tea things on the tray shattered suddenly, along with Severus’s and Harry’s cups, and tea spilled all over the desk—and all over the essays.

            “Harry,” Severus scolded lightly as he picked up the stack of essays in a poor attempt to salvage them.

            “Sorry,” Harry said in a soft voice, wincing at the mess his magic had created.

            Severus flicked his wand and vanished the mess. Portia reappeared as well and replaced the tea items and fixed them both a fresh cup of tea just to their liking. Severus tried a drying and restorative spell on the stack of essays that took the brunt of the mess, but unfortunately, the ink could only be restored so much after mixing with the tea, and the parchments were left with weird blotchy stains that covered most of the essays.

            “I didn’t mean it,” Harry said.

            “I would hope not.” Severus set the stack back in front of him, glad that he was able to at least make out names. “However, you are getting a bit old for accidental magic outbursts like that. I understand your frustrations and your anger though. You’re not wrong. Black has gotten away with far too much with nothing more than a slap on the wrist. Azkaban appears to have done little for him as well. However, when he is caught, he may face worse punishment than what he has currently been through.”

            “Still, I don’t like that he even gets to live,” Harry muttered. “My parents deserve better justice.”

            “Do not get any ideas, young man,” Severus said, pointing the end of his quill at Harry sternly. “Revenge is not the answer, and you will not seek Black out to exact it either. You mean too much to too many people, especially me. Do not make it easy for Black by seeking him out.”

            “I wouldn’t,” Harry said in a tone that was not convincing to Severus.

            “Furthermore, you are aware that Black was not given a trial?”

            “Yeah? What’s that got to do with anything?”

            “Professor Dumbledore is considering reopening the case. Perhaps there is more to the story behind Black’s role as your parents’ secret keeper, and he wants to make sure we have the entire truth when Black is caught again.”

            “Does Professor Dumbledore think he’s innocent?” Harry asked, making a face at the concept.

            “I do not know what the headmaster thinks, but I do believe we all deserve a fair chance at having our stories told,” Severus said. “Even if it is Black. Besides, I would like to hear why he betrayed them in the first place.”

            “Me too. I just can’t wrap my head around it.”

            “Which means you are a good person, Harry. Do not let yourself become so consumed by anger that you forget that.”

            Harry smiled at his father before frowning at the papers in front of Severus, watching as his father wrote down the names of the students whose papers were ruined.

            “Can’t you fix that? Are you going to make them rewrite the papers?”

            “No. These lucky few first years will get a free pass on the written portion. Their grades will be determined by their practical examination. Besides, they were Ravenclaws. I’ve yet to have one from that house score below an E, even the first years. I’m simply glad I didn’t have the entire class’s stack in front of me.”

            “I’m really sorry about that.”

            “There’s no need to apologize.” Severus set the ruined essays aside and began on a new stack of essays. This was a stack of first year Gryffindors, and he began marking the parchment, already taking points for an illegible name written at the top. Harry snorted at that as he took a sip of his tea before grabbing another biscuit. After enjoying the treat and taking another sip of the tea, Harry grew bored of watching Severus grade.

            “Do you think I could spend the night in Gryffindor Tower?” Harry asked. At Severus’s stern look, he added, “Just tonight. We could study together, and I’ve practically been stuck down here with you all year and school’s almost over. Black hasn’t tried to get into the school in a while. I’ll even come straight back down first thing in the morning for breakfast with you.”

            “You most certainly would not,” Severus said. Harry’s face fell. “You would stay with your friends at all times and attend breakfast in the Great Hall.”

            “Really?” Harry asked, a smile spreading on his face.

            “Against my better judgement, but at the first sign of any kind of trouble, you will summon me. Do you have your family bond ring?”

            Harry shot out of his seat and ran to his bedroom. After a minute, he came running back into the room with the peacock ring in his hand. Severus took the ring and waved his wand over it. He handed it back to Harry.

            “I will keep mine on me, and you are to keep that with you at all times. You do not have to wear it if you don’t want, but it stays with you. If you find any trouble of any kind, you are to tap the peacock’s head three times with the tip of your wand.”

            “Okay. Why didn’t you offer this option before?”

            “Because I don’t like it. I’d much rather you be in my immediate sight than having to race to where the ring tells me you are and find you dead. But as you said, it is the end of the school year, and you need time with your friends, or I’ll never hear the end of it come summer.”

            “Got that right.”

            Severus swatted at Harry, but the child jumped away with a cheeky grin.

            “Do not abuse this privilege,” Severus warned, “or you will find yourself grounded to your room until you’re thirty.”  

            “Yes, sir,” Harry said with a nod as he slid the ring on a finger.

            The third-year students struggled with the potion for their practical: a confusing concoction. Severus moved up and down the rows of bubbling cauldrons with a slip of parchment and a quill, and he made notes of where each student did well and where they did not. As Severus paused near Harry’s cauldron, he realized his son was really struggling with making the potion thicken, and he watched closely to see if Harry would figure out where he was going wrong.

            He had noticed that Harry had seemed distracted when he arrived to the classroom, and he didn’t miss the frantic attempts at trying to recall which ingredients went first and how they were supposed to be prepared. He wondered what had happened last night to have Harry so flustered today. He frowned when Harry picked up a pinch of arrowroot, a known thickener, and added it to the potion, giving it a few stirs, yet the green liquid refused to thicken despite it.

            Then, the potion began to bubble angrily, the green darkening slightly, and Harry ran a hand through his hair before rubbing his neck.

            “You have less than a minute,” Severus said in a low tone, “to figure out what you are missing.”

            Harry glanced back at Severus, then at his potion, then at the ingredients neatly laid out in front of him, but he didn’t grab the right ingredient, and the potion turned into an ugly shade of maroon. Severus sighed, lifting his quill and finding Harry’s name on his list. He hesitated for a second, then marked a “fail” box before making a note “sixth step” off to the side. As he passed Harry’s station to check on the other students, he discreetly pushed the lovage toward Harry slightly, and Harry nearly smacked himself on the forehead as he sat down at his desk.

            “Clean your station, Potter,” Severus said as he examined Ron’s potion. “Then stay after class.”

            Severus monitored the class while the rest of the students finished their potions, everyone else managing a passable solution save for Hermione, who scored high marks for a perfect concoction that Severus scoffed at, and Longbottom, who forgot to trim down the scurvy grass before adding it to the cauldron, resulting in a sticky, gooey mess that earned him half points for at least making it to the end, but with Longbottom’s overall grades, it just gave him enough to receive an A. Harry had his head down  on his desk, fiddling with the ring on his finger while waiting patiently for everyone else to finish, his station scrubbed clean.  

            When the last student was finished, Severus informed everyone to bottle their work, except Longbottom as his product would not have any chance of storing properly in a vial. After the students labeled their vial and left it on Severus’s desk, they left the lab one by one, gathering their things and offering sympathetic glances Harry’s way.

            Ron and Hermione whispered that they would wait for him in the hallway, and Harry nodded in response.

            Finally, it was just Severus and Harry in the lab.

            Severus waved his wand, and the cauldrons flew over to the sink and dumped the remaining contents before soap and water scrubbed away at the cauldrons. The desks cleared away and a washcloth flew around the room and wiped down the tables in preparation for the next class. Once everything was in the process of cleaning itself, Severus walked over to where Harry was still waiting for him with his head down on the desk.

            “I’m sorry,” Harry said when Severus paused in front of him.

            “What happened today?” Severus asked. “You’ve made a confusing concoction a few times this year with no problems before.”

            “I know.” Harry didn’t say anything more.

            “You didn’t even make it to the halfway point. That’s a failing grade, Harry. That will bring down your overall grade.”

            “I know. I didn’t mean to screw it up. I was just . . . distracted.”

            “Obviously. By what?”

            “It’s stupid.”

            “Stupid or not, you will explain yourself.”

            “My friends are still fighting,” Harry said. “This whole year, all they’ve done is fight. Ron’s rat Scabbers is missing again, and Ron thinks Crookshanks did something to him, but Hermione says her cat wouldn’t harm a fly. We didn’t even sit together last night; Ron wouldn’t talk to Hermione and Hermione wouldn’t even look at Ron. All I could do was just sit there in the middle and play mediator. It just wasn’t how I thought the night would go and then I didn’t sleep well because I was trying to think of ways to stop their stupid feud.”

            “Perhaps you should have stayed in our quarters last night,” Severus said.

            Harry sighed and looked down at the tabletop but said nothing.

            “Regardless of what may be going on with your friends, you cannot let it distract you from your work, especially your examinations. They make up a large portion of your grade. If you did not sleep well, you should have come to me before the exam started and informed me of the situation. I could have allowed you to take the exam at a later time.”

            “You could?” Harry asked.

            Severus crossed his arms and gave his son a stern look.

            “Am I not known for my generous exceptions?”

            “No,” Harry said with a shake of his head. “You’re not.”

            “I suppose those may only extend to you, then. Next time you are not feeling at your best, let me know. We’ll work something out.”

            “Can we work something out now?” Harry asked.

            “Afraid not. I would have to give you an entirely different potion to brew, which would not be fair to the rest of the class.”

            “So I failed?”

            “You did. However, your grades have been outstanding all year. The worst the exam will do is drop your overall grade to an E.” Severus rested a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “I’m still very proud of how well you performed. You did very well given the circumstances.”

            “Thanks, Dad.”

            “You will be reviewing this potion over the summer, though.”

            “Of course. Can’t have the Potion Master’s son not knowing his potions.”

            “Indeed,” Severus agreed with an amused smile.

            Harry smiled back before glancing at the clock in the corner of the room. His eyes widen and he grabs his bag and throws it over his shoulder.

            “I have the Divination exam next,” Harry said. He rounds the table and hugs his father before rushing for the door. “See you later.”

            “Hey,” Severus called after his son. Harry paused and glanced back. “If you get more than an Acceptable on the Divination exam, I will admit you to St Mungo’s.”

            Harry laughed at that.

            “Okay, got it. I won’t search too hard for my inner eye.”

            Severus waved his son off as the child ran out of his classroom. Severus reached into an inner robe pocket and fiddled with the peacock ring. It was charming to heat up intensely when Harry used his wand to tap on the corresponding ring, and Severus was keeping it close just in case something happened. To be honest, he had not slept well either last night, too obsessed with checking on the ring every few minutes. He was sure Harry would be fine. He had obeyed every rule thus far and had all his exams to finish, so Harry would be too busy to go looking for trouble. Besides, he had no reason to leave the safety of the castle now. The school year was almost over. Perhaps this year would end without any dangerous adventure on his son’s behalf.

Chapter Text

The evening was slowly creeping up on Severus, and he finally arrived at his quarters, glad to have a moment’s peace from proctoring exams all day. He checked his clock, then headed for his potions supply closet to grab a premade wolfsbane potion. Lupin should be arriving any minute for his next dose. It was required that werewolves take the wolfsbane everyday for a full week prior to the full moon, with a final dose the day of, just before sunset. It was a pain for Severus to keep track of the days, but thankfully, Lupin seemed to take his condition seriously and had always arrived on time to collect his potion. Severus grabbed a vial of a shelf and walked back out to his living space, sitting down in his armchair and summoning tea to wait.

            Once he had his tea perfected, he took an appreciative sip before glancing at his clock once more. Any minute now, and Lupin would be knocking on his door for his required dose.

            The ticking of the grandfather clock was louder than usual while Severus agitatedly took another sip of his tea. The damn man had been diligent all year long, of all days to forget, why the end of the year?

            After another couple long minutes, Severus snarled under his breath as he set his tea down with a firm click before he snatched the vial of wolfsbane and stormed out of his quarters, marching his way up the stairs to Lupin’s office. When he found Lupin, he would chew him out and force the potion down his throat himself. He knew keeping a werewolf on a tight schedule with a school full of children had been an absurd idea.

            He arrived at Lupin’s office and walked in without knocking.

            “Lupin!” he loudly called out.

            Even if Lupin had been in his quarters which were adjacent to his office, he would have heard Severus’s call. Severus frowned when Lupin did not come running out of wherever he was hiding, muttering apologies for his forgetfulness. Severus huffed and walked further into the office, looking down at Lupin’s cluttered desk. There were stacks of essays in the process of being graded strewn all over the desktop, along with an old, faded parchment Severus recognized immediately, and he stepped closer, leaning over the desk and narrowing his eyes down at what was clearly a map of Hogwarts.

            “So, this is what Harry didn’t want to tell me about,” Severus muttered, turning the map slightly to have a better look at it. He could see all the students and professors moving about, and he instinctively searched for Harry’s name, frowning when he did not see his son listed or his friends, though there were so many names all over, he supposed he could miss their names.

            Then he saw Lupin. The name was moving quickly down a passage that Severus was very familiar with—it led straight for the Shrieking Shack.

Severus growled angrily before running out of the office. He shoved the vial of wolfbane in an inner robe pocket and ran down the hall. All year, he had questioned Lupin’s loyalties, and he was determined to show the headmaster just how wrong it was to put their trust in the likes of werewolves. He tried not to think prejudicially, but his past experiences taught him that werewolves were too dangerous to be around a school. And worse, Lupin was hired around the time Black escaped Azkaban. There was no way it was coincidental.

            Severus exited the castle and headed for the Whomping Willow, summoning a stick that he then sent flying toward the small knot on the tree trunk, stilling the flailing branches. He carefully stepped down into the tunnel that would lead him to the Shrieking Shack, his wand ready. He slowed down enough so he could survey every nook and cranny, being mindful of each bend there was, leading with his wand before stepping further down the tunnel.

            A sudden warmth grew in an inner robe pocket, and Severus leaned back against the wall of the tunnel while he dug into his pocket and pulled out his family bond ring, the eyes of the peacock glowing a red hot. Severus had a sinking feeling he knew what this was about and quickly cast a locator charm on Harry Potter.

            The slightest tug of his wand pointed him onward into the tunnel. Apprehension now clawed at Severus gut like a vicious cat as he continued down the tunnel, leaving him feeling slightly nauseated. He had been completely prepared to face Lupin and a potential convict in the Shrieking Shack. He was not prepared for his son to be in the mix of everything, though what on earth Harry would be doing out here when he was supposed to be safe in the castle was beyond him.

Finally, he found a stairway and climbed with slow and calculated steps, keeping his wand in front of him. He could hear talking, and his heart nearly froze when he heard Harry’s voice, and he hesitated, his eyes widening.

“What sort of animal?” Harry asked, though Hermione quickly cut him off.

“That was still really dangerous! Running around in the dark with a werewolf! What if you’d given the other the slip, and bitten somebody?”

“A thought that still haunts me,” said Lupin. “And there were near misses, many of them. We laughed about them afterwards. We were young, thoughtless; carried away with our own cleverness.”

Severus inched further up the stairs as he listened to Lupin talk about his guilt regarding not telling the headmaster about Sirius Black being an animagus and how “Snape’s been right about me all along.”

“Snape?” Black’s voice cut through the air like a knife, and Severus grit his teeth, his knuckles white as he clutched his wand. “What’s Snape got to do with it?”

“He’s here, Sirius,” said Lupin heavily. “He’s teaching here as well.”

There was a pause, and Severus took another step up the stairs, stopping when the stair creaked slightly under his weight. Lupin was telling the Golden Trio the story of how Black had tricked Severus into following Lupin down to the Shrieking Shack, and how James Potter had stopped Severus just in time. Severus took a few more steps up the stairway, and he could almost see into the room. Just a few more steps.

“Snape glimpsed me, though,” Lupin continued, “at the end of the tunnel. He was forbidden to tell anybody by Dumbledore, but from that time on, he knew what I was.”

“So that’s why Professor Snape doesn’t like you,” Harry said slowly, “because he thought you were in on the joke?”

“That’s right,” Severus sneered from behind Lupin, and everyone jumped and turned to look at where he was standing in the doorway, his wand trained directly on Lupin, whose wand flew out of his hand. “You’re wondering, perhaps, how I knew you were here? I’ve just been to your office, Lupin. You forgot to take your potion tonight, so I took a gobletful along. And very lucky I did . . . lucky for me, I mean. Lying on your desk was a certain map. One glance at it told me all I needed to know. I saw you running along this passageway and out of sight.”

“Severus,” Lupin began, but Severus stepped into the room further, keeping his wand on Lupin.

“I’ve told the headmaster again and again that you’ve been helping your old friend Black into the castle, Lupin, and here’s the proof. Not even I dreamed you would use this old place as your hideout.”

“Severus, you’re making a mistake,” Lupin said urgently, most likely trying to save his own skin. “You haven’t heard everything—I can explain—Sirius is not here to kill Harry.”

Severus made sure to place himself between the two criminals and the three students cowering on the other side of the room. He would not allow either of these men to hurt his child if he could help it.

“Two more for Azkaban tonight,” Severus said. “I shall be interested to see how Dumbledore takes this. He was quite convinced you were harmless, Lupin. A tame werewolf.”

“You fool,” Lupin said with a shake of his head. “Is a schoolboy grudge worth putting an innocent man back inside Azkaban?”

“I’ve had enough of this,” Black snapped, and he lunged toward the kids—Ron and his squealing rat, specifically.

            Severus quickly redirected his wand on Black, and the thin, crazy looking man stopped dead.

            “Give me a reason,” Severus whispered. “Give me a reason to do it, and I swear I will.”

            Black backed up a few steps toward Lupin and Severus kept them both glued to the spot as he debated his next best move that would safely remove the kids while keeping the two criminals in their place. Oh, how he had dreamed of being the one to capture Black and give him exactly what he deserved.

            Before Severus could do anything more than snarl at Lupin and Black, Harry scooted around him and stood in front of the two unarmed men.

“Potter,” Severus warned in a low voice, keeping his wand on the two men behind Harry. “Unless you have forgotten, Black has been after your skinny neck all year. I suggest, you stay behind me.”

“I want to hear them out,” Harry said. “They say there’s more to the story, so I want to hear it. I want the truth.”

Severus glared at his son, though he was unsure if he was feeling more fear or anger.

“Get out of the way, Potter,” Severus growled through his teeth.

“No.”

Severus took a step toward Harry, then froze and his eyes widened when Harry raised his own wand, pointed directly at him. Hermione and Ron gasped behind him, while Lupin and Black seemed just as surprised.

“Potter.” Severus tone held disbelief. “Lower your wand this instant.”        

“Please,” Harry pleaded. “I need to hear this.”

“Harry, perhaps—” Lupin started as he took a step toward Harry, only to freeze when Severus angled his wand more on him.

“Do not move,” Severus warned the two men before he leveled Harry with a stern look. “Lower your wand. You could face expulsion for this, boy.”

“You said everyone deserves a chance to explain themselves,” Harry said. “They do, too. No matter what they did before or even now.”

Severus sighed heavily through his nose, lowering his own wand slightly. As much as he wanted to blast Lupin and Black across the room, he knew how much Harry had wanted to hear personally why Black betrayed his parents. And if there was more to the story . . . well, Severus wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Still, he did not like that Harry still had his wand on him.

“Harry James,” Severus said, “lower your wand.”

Harry didn’t obey right away, but slowly, he lowered his wand, and when it was low enough, Severus lunged forward and snatched Harry’s wand away, tucking it into his wand holder in his sleeve, then he grabbed Harry’s wrist and yanked him away from the two men, effectively placing his son behind him once more. He did not let go of Harry’s wrist as he leveled his wand on Lupin and Black once more.

“Thanks to Potter’s imprudence, you now have five minutes to explain yourselves,” Severus said.

“Then it’s time we offered you some proof,” Black said. “You, boy—give me Peter. Now.”

Peter Pettigrew? Was Black saying Pettigrew was alive? And that he was Ron Weasley’s pet rat? Severus frowned as he watched Ron clutch the rat closer to his chest. Curiously, the rat was trying very hard to get away from Ron, scratching and biting at Ron’s neck.  

“Scabbers has been in our family for—”

“Twelve years!” Black said. “An awful long time for a common garden rat! And he’s missing a toe!”

“So?” Ron said. “He probably had a fight with another rat or something.”

“Just before he transformed,” Black explained, “when I cornered him, he yelled for the whole street to hear that I’d betrayed Lily and James. Then, before I could curse him, he blew apart the street with the wand behind his back, killed everyone within twenty feet of himself, and sped down into the sewer with other rats after cutting off a finger.”

“Harry,” Black continued, looking at Harry directly, ignoring Severus’s sneer. “I as good as killed them. I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment, persuaded them to use him as Secret Keeper instead of me. I’m to blame, I know it.” His voice broke. He turned away.

“Enough of this,” Lupin said, summoning his wand. “There’s one certain way to prove what really happened. Ron, give me the rat.”

Severus allowed Lupin, and only Lupin to walk over and take the rat away from Ron. He scruffed the squealing animal, holding it up in the air while it thrashed and twisted around. Finally, Lupin hit Scabbers with a spell, and the rat fell and hit the floor.

Severus released Harry’s wrist and held an arm out, backing up Harry and Hermione from the transformation, while Ron scrambled back a bit on the bed he was sitting on.

            Slowly, the rat transformed, growing a more humanoid head by the second while sprouting longer limbs, and in less than two minutes, a man was standing where Scabbers had been, cringing and wringing his hands. He was a very short man with thin, colorless hair, and there was a large bald patch on top of his head. He twitched and moved with a shaky gait, his eyes darting to the door and back again.

            “Well, hello, Peter,” said Lupin, “Long time, no see.”

            “S-Sirius . . . R-Remus . . .” Pettigrew said in a squeaky voice. “My friends . . . my old friends.”

            Peter suddenly darted for the door, but Severus flicked his wand and the door slammed shut with a resounding click. Peter scratched at it like a frantic animal before Lupin and Black grabbed his shoulders and threw him back to the center of the room.

            “Friends?” Black hissed. “I would never betray my friends to Voldemort! How could you?”

            “I didn’t mean to!” Pettigrew confessed, “The Dark Lord, you have no idea the weapons he possesses! Ask yourself what you would have done, Sirius!”

            It was then that Severus realized the whole story being pieced together in the room was true. Only followers ever called You-Know-Who the Dark Lord. All this time, Sirius Black had truly been innocent, and the man responsible for Lily’s death stood before them—having hidden himself away as a pet rat—a free man.

            “Died!” Black shouted. “Died rather than betray my friends! And you should have realized, Peter, if Voldemort didn’t kill you . . .”

            “We would,” Lupin concluded.

            “No, please, you can’t,” Pettigrew pleaded, then he eyed Ron and ran over to him. “Ron! Haven’t I been a good friend? A good pet? You won’t let them kill me, will you? I was your rat . . .”

            Ron was slowly drawing back in disgust, so Pettigrew turned his eyes toward Harry, and he dropped to the ground and crawled toward the boy. Severus fixed his wand on the short man and kept an arm out protectively, keeping Harry and Hermione behind him.

            “Harry,” Pettigrew whispered, his hands outstretched, “James wouldn’t have wanted me killed . . . James would have understood, Harry . . . he would have shown mercy . . .”

            Black and Lupin seized Pettigrew’s shoulders and threw him backwards onto the floor. He sat there, twitching with terror, staring up at them. Lupin and Black turned their wands on him, but before either could say a word, Harry wretched himself away from Severus and ran over to Pettigrew.

            “Don’t kill him!” Harry said. “Please.”

            “Harry,” Black said, “Think about what he did.”

            “I know what he did. He can go to Azkaban. If anyone deserves that place, he does.”

            “Bless you, Harry,” Pettigrew said, groveling at Harry’s feet, clutching his robes.

            “Get off me!” Harry yanked away from the man. “I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing it because I don’t reckon my dad would’ve wanted his best friends to become killers.”

            “You’re the only one who has the right to decide,” Black said. He smiled softly at Harry. “You are so like your father.”

            Harry smiled back, and Severus stepped forward and grabbed Harry’s arm, pulling him away from Black.

            “We should head back to the castle,” Severus said. “Clearly, there is much to be discussed with the headmaster and, preferably, a few aurors present. As much as I’d love all three of you to see a dementor’s kiss, I suppose one will suffice. Lupin, if you would see to Mr. Weasley. Ah, yes, and before you do, take this.”

            Severus held out a vial, and Lupin’s eyes widened before he snatched the vial and chugged it quickly. With the werewolf drugged and everyone assisting each other back through the tunnel with Sirius keeping a wand on Pettigrew, Severus kept a hold of Harry’s arm and pulled his son along, pausing only to whisper in Harry’s ear, “When we return to the castle report directly to our quarters.”

            “But I want to see . . .”

            “No. Directly to our quarters. I will inform you of what happens when I return.”

            Harry huffed but allowed Severus to continue dragging him down the tunnel.

Suddenly, a hand tried to grab Severus’s wrist to pull him off of Harry, but Severus tightened his hold and spun, wand pointed at Black.

“You can unhand him, now,” Black growled. “I have Pettigrew under control. He’s not some toddler that needs to hold hands with his teacher.”

“Then perhaps he shouldn’t act like one,” Severus said, ignoring the red tinge at the tip of Harry’s ears.

Black lunged forward again, reaching to remove Severus’s hand, but Severus pulled back just out of reach.

“Watch yourself, Black,” Severus said. “You may be innocent, but you are still an ex-convict. I have every right to keep you from laying a single finger on the students.”

“Harry isn’t just a student. His parents named me his godfather—his guardian in the event anything ever happened to them. And I plan to step into that role for him.”

Harry’s eyes widened at that while Severus’s glare deepened, and he ignored the small spike of fear in his chest in favor of snapping at Black.

“No one in their right mind would dare put a child in your custody, not after the 12 years you spent in Azkaban. Enough of this, anything else you wish to say, you may do so in front of the headmaster.”

Severus led the way down the tunnel once more, trying to calm his fuming mind. He felt Harry pull against him slightly.

“Sir, please,” Harry muttered.

“Enough, Potter,” Severus said. “Do not test my patience right now.”

Harry fell silent once more, glancing back at Black, who smiled softly at him. Severus tried not to feel any bit of jealousy at the small interaction. He was not losing his son to this convict. He would fight tooth and nail to keep Harry. Of course, Black would have to be declared innocent and be formally released from Azkaban before anyone would even consider allowing him to apply for guardianship. Severus realized that in the end, no matter how it panned out, he would have to tell Black about his relationship with Harry. He smirked as he envisioned Black’s reaction to that news.

Finally, they found the exit to the tunnel and stepped out into the slowly darkening sky. Severus paused as he watched clouds part, revealing the full moon. He gestured for Ron and Hermione to come to his side, and Lupin helped Ron lean his weight against Severus before he fell over and writhed, his limbs twisting and reforming.

“Oh my,” Hermione gasped. She looked away. Sirius and Pettigrew watched on sympathetically, recalling the many nights they stayed with him during these transformations. Lupin’s head slowly lengthened, along with the rest of his body. Hair was sprouting everywhere, and his hands slowly curled into paws.

Finally, there was a low whining, and a large wolf stood in Lupin’s place, and his eyes slowly focused on Severus and the three students before glancing at Black and Pettigrew. Lupin whined submissively.

“The potion worked,” Hermione remarked, awe creeping into her tone.

“Of course, it worked,” Severus growled. “I brewed it.”

Lupin glanced back at Severus, then at something over Severus’s head. He whimpered, tail tucked, and he backed away slowly.

There was a coldness in the air, like all the life around them had been sucked away in a winter breeze. The clouds darkened once again, and Severus turned to face hundreds of dementors swarming directly for the group.

Black paled and jerked back slightly, and the distraction was enough for Pettigrew to shove Black to the ground before he dove for Lupin’s dropped wand, transforming back into a rat and taking off.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Sirius shouted, transforming into a dog and chasing after the rat.           

“No, don’t!” Harry called after Black.

Severus waved his wand, sending his doe patronus to chase off the dementors, keeping a tight circle around himself, the Golden trio, and the still wolf, who howled in concern as he watched Black chase Pettigrew toward the Forbidden Forest.

Black was so close, one more leap forward and he would land on Pettigrew and rip him to pieces. He stretched out his neck, then yelped as a dementor swooped past him, startling him enough that he tripped over a rock and stumbled, striking his head. Black fell to the ground, transforming back into Sirius. The wolf howled before daringly stepping out of the protective circle the doe had created, only to back up when three dementors swooped toward him.

Severus wasn’t particularly sympathetic as he watched dementor after dementor feed from Black’s soul as the man lay unconscious just with the trees of the forest. There was little he could do that didn’t involve putting the kids at risk, and they were his first priority.

Harry, however, had other ideas. He managed to steal back his wand from Severus’s sleeve, yanking it away before he ran out of the doe’s protective circle and ran straight for Black—amidst hundreds of dementors. He reached out for Harry but was too slow to grab him.

“Harry!” Severus shouted. “Get back here!”

“Harry, no!” Hermione screamed. “You know what they do to you!”

“Come back, mate!” Ron shouted.

The wolf howled again.

Harry raised his wand, pointing it directly at the dementors flying above him.

“Expecto Patronum!” Harry screamed, and there was a bright flash of silver before a small fawn leapt into the air, bright and bold, chasing away several of the dementors, creating an even larger protective bubble than Severus’s doe had.

The fawn circled Black a few times before leaping toward Severus’s doe, touching noses briefly before the two leaped around together, creating one, large protective sphere that shielded everyone from the retreating dementors.

Within the protective bubble, Severus ran for his son, who was swaying on his feet. He caught Harry just in time as the child collapsed, and he held his son in his arms as Hermione, Ron, and the wolf ran up to him as well, looking down at Harry with concerned looks.

“It’s a fawn,” Harry whispered in a hoarse voice, “to go with your doe. Did you see?”

“Yes, I saw,” Severus said, brushing a few strands of sweaty hair out of Harry’s face. “You did very good. I am so proud of you.”

Harry smiled at that, then at the wolf that gave him a small nod with a huff. Then, the world went black for Harry, and he closed his eyes.

Severus continued to hold Harry, feeling his forehead with his palm then the back of his hand.

“Is he okay?” Hermione asked.

“He’s alright,” Severus said. “Merely exhausted.”

“What about Black?’ Ron asked. “And that Pettigrew?”

Severus looked over at Black. The wolf was gently touching his nose to Black’s chest, but he could see the man breathing, and he knew Black would live. Lucky him. Pettigrew, however, was nowhere to be seen.

“He got away, didn’t he?” Ron concluded. “I can’t believe I let him sleep in my bed with me.”

Severus lifted Harry into his arms, then glanced up at the sky. The dementors were gone. The doe and fawn appeared on either side of him, and they both looked up at him. Severus was surprised Harry’s fawn was still around even as Harry was unconscious. He nodded toward Black and Lupin.

“Keep them safe while I take the kids to the infirmary. I will send aid.”

The deer nodded, then walked over to Black and the wolf, lying down next to them.

Severus adjusted Harry in his arms, then waited while Hermione assisted Ron before they slowly made their way to the castle.

Chapter Text

Leaning back against the wall in a corner of the headmaster’s office, Severus frowned as an auror administered the antidote to the Veritaserum Black had taken. The auror spoke softly to Albus before gathering up the collected evidence against Peter Pettigrew and taking his leave through the floo. Severus had been forced to stay around to give his side of events in a separate office before he returned to see how things were progressing with Black’s interrogation. He couldn’t say he was pleased that Black wasn’t being dragged through the floo in handcuffs with the auror, though Black’s face at the auror’s orders to lay low and stay out of public eye a while longer made up for that.

            When it was just Black, Albus, and Severus in the room, Black immediately turned to Albus.

            “I want to see Harry,” Black said. “If that’s okay with you . . .”

            “It’s not the headmaster you should be asking,” Severus snapped.

            “What are you talking about, Snape?” Black fired back. “Albus has . . .”

            “Absolutely no say in who may visit my son,” Severus said. If there was anytime to inform Black of his relationship with Harry, now would be the time. “And I do not give you permission.”

            “Severus,” Albus started to say.

            “You’re hilarious, Snape,” Black said.

            “Oh, this is no joke,” Severus said. “I adopted Harry in his first year at Hogwarts. Of course, due to the sensitive nature of both parties involved, we could never publicly announce it, but Harry is my son, and what I say regarding his health and safety goes. And that includes denying you visiting rights.”

            “He’s joking!” Black looked at Albus, and his face visibly fell at Albus’s serious look. “No, no. Harry would have never agreed to something like this—he was probably forced into the adoption. Held against his will.”

            “Yes,” Severus agreed nonchalantly, “he was under the imperius when he signed the papers.”

            “He probably locks him up somewhere dark and cold, so he doesn’t have to deal with him.”

            “Every night.”

            “I bet you beat him!” Black nearly shouted, turning to glare at Severus.

            “Within an inch of his life.” Severus fought against a smirk.

            “Severus,” Albus scolded, “that’s enough goading.”

            “What happened to living with his muggle relatives?” Black asked.

            “They were not a good fit, Sirius,” Albus answered honestly. “Severus stepped up for Harry when no one else had, and they have a very good relationship. Harry is happy with Severus.”

            “How can you be so sure? Clearly, Snape hasn’t changed one hair on his head. This isn’t what’s best for Harry—he belongs with me. I was supposed to fill that roll for him when his parents died. I have to make this right. For him.”

            “I’m sure,” Severus said, “that disrupting his life by challenging my adoption of him will do Harry a world of good.”

            “I’m afraid Severus is right,” Albus said. “Harry is settled with Severus, and I do not feel he will be interested in changing his mind about his custodianship anytime soon. Any visitation with Harry will have to be approved by Severus, who I’m sure will be fair and understanding in your wish to get to know your godson.”

            Severus rolled his eyes at Albus’s pointed look.

            “And in the meantime, you must keep a low profile while the Ministry clears your name. Even when the statement is announced, there will be those that doubt its validity and stir up trouble. You need to find someplace to settle and get yourself acquainted with living among wizard society, that is your main priority. Getting to know Harry and spending time with him can be fit into that schedule.”

            Black’s head was bowed and his face taut while his eyes swirled with dark emotions.

            “It was supposed to be me,” Black whispered.

            “But it wasn’t you,” Albus said matter-of-factly. “And Harry is happy where he is. Now you can live with that and be a part of Harry’s life in a way that keeps you both safe, or you can resent that and push Harry away by fighting Severus’s custody.”

            Severus was not in a good mood when he left the headmaster’s office. Spending the night going over every detail of what happened that evening with the auror had been draining and painstakingly slow and boring as the auror made sure he had every detail right. It was a shame Lupin couldn’t have contributed his half as he had been stuck in his wolfish form until early this morning, though the auror did ask that Lupin report to the auror department to give his statement. Surely Lupin was on his way there now while Black and Albus had a private conversation in the headmaster’s office.

            That left Severus to check in on his son. Per Poppy, Harry had drained his energy casting the patronus charm that saved his godfather from certain death. He had inadvertently thrown every last bit of his strength into the spell, which was why he passed out and remained comatose through the night. Harry was still asleep as Severus entered the infirmary and approached Harry’s bed.

            Transfiguring a pillow into a chair, Severus sat down and watched Harry breath, contemplating Black’s request to see Harry before he left Hogwarts that day to return to his old family home. He had said yes to a visit so long as Harry was alert and agreed to seeing Black in return, though he couldn’t fathom Harry saying no. In all honesty, he was a bit worried about how much Harry may bond with Black and what that may do to their own relationship.

            Harry stirred, his head turning away from the window where sunlight streamed into the room, and he slowly blinked his eyes open.

            Severus gently rested a hand over Harry’s forehead, checking for any fever, then brushed his hand back over Harry’s hair. Harry smiled at him as he stretched before reaching around the nearby table for his glasses. Severus picked them up and handed them to Harry.

            “How are you feeling?” Severus asked.

            “I feel fine,” Harry answered as he put his glasses on. His eyes widened as he recalled last night’s events and he gasped and looked at his father. “Where’s Sirius? Is he okay?”

            Annoyance flickered within Severus, but he kept it out of his tone of voice as he said, “Black is alive and currently speaking with the headmaster. Are you sure there is no lingering pain? No headache? You used up every bit of your strength last night.”

            “No, I’m okay,” Harry said. “What about Remus? And Hermione and Ron, are they okay? Can I see them?”

            “Your friends were healed of their minor injuries last night and sent on their way to bed after questioning. I’m sure they plan on sleeping in. Lupin is most likely human again and on his way to the Ministry to discuss the events of last night. I was awake all night putting together the details of Pettigrew’s escape and confirming memories along with Black and the headmaster. We’ve all had a long night.”

            “Sorry,” Harry said with a wince. “You don’t have to check on me if you’d rather catch up on sleep or . . .”

            “You’re misunderstanding me,” Severus said. “I am merely informing you that visiting anyone at the moment may be difficult. As for Black, he has requested permission to see you before he leaves the castle tonight, and if it is alright with you, he may do so in our quarters.”

            “That would be great,” Harry said with a small smile. “Does that mean I can leave the infirmary? Maybe have some breakfast? I am a bit hungry.”

            “I can imagine. I will find Madam Pomfrey.” Severus stood up, then paused. “Ah, yes, one more thing.”

            Severus leaned over Harry and pointed a stern finger at his son. Harry sank back into the headboard, the smile on his face dropping quickly.

            “The next time,” Severus scolded in a low tone, “you have the audacity to point your wand at me, it better be a life-or-death situation, or I will smack you into next week where we stand in front of whoever is around at the time, is that clear?”

            “Yes, sir,” Harry answered quickly, the tips of his ears turning red. Harry frowned then asked, “Wait, what kind of life-or-death situation? When would something like that ever happen?”

            “Hopefully, it never does.”

            The summer moved swiftly, and Peter Pettigrew remained at large. Severus heard little from acquaintances about any movement toward bringing back the Dark Lord, and he supposed that was a good sign. Besides, he had other worries to deal with at home, such as a smart mouthed teenager and a mangy godfather demanding visit after visit. Usually, Black came over to their small house and spent time with Harry walking through town or chatting at the small café across from the library. Only once had Severus been talked into allowing Harry to go to Black’s residence. It had involved Black, Harry, Freddy, and Albus all having a few words with Severus on giving Black a chance to prove himself a responsible adult. In the end, the visit had gone well if Harry’s smiles were anything to go by.

            Which aggravated a nerve in Severus. He knew he shouldn’t be so resentful of Black’s relationship with Harry, but he couldn’t help the growing jealousy. He was thankful when Black did not floo call his house for nearly a week in the middle of July, giving him some peace of mind and some time alone with Harry.

            “I can’t believe Remus isn’t going to teach this year,” Harry said as he picked through his lunch. “Why did he have to go and resign?”

            “I’ve told you,” Severus said from behind the Daily Prophet, “he felt that the incident at the end of last year was too close of a call. He forgot his potion, and had I not hand delivered it to him, who knows what chaos may have ensued. He doesn’t want to risk anything happening this year.”

            “That’s a stupid reason,” Harry grumbled. “He was the best teacher we ever had for that class.”

            “The headmaster will find another, I’m sure.”

            “Won’t be as good as Remus,” Harry mumbled again.

            Severus lowered his paper and gave his son an annoyed look, but Harry was digging through his greens on his plate, oblivious to Severus’s look, or simply ignoring it. Severus cleared his throat.

            “If you are quite finished making a mess of your salad, you are excused.”

            “Actually,” Harry said as he set his fork down, “I did want to ask something.”

            “Go ahead,” Severus said, returning some of his attention to the paper. He hoped it wasn’t a request for another visit with Black. He was really enjoying the break from all that nonsense.

            “At the book club today, one of the kids announced he was having a party at his place tonight, and I was wondering if I could go.”

            “A party, hmm?” That was not the question he had been expecting. “What kind of a party?”

            “I don’t know. He said just his friends from book club and then a few from school.”

            “And his parents will be hosting?”

            “Actually, he said his parents were out of town for the night on business.”

            Red flags flashed before Severus’s eyes, and he lowered the paper completely to give his son an unsure look.

            “How old is this kid exactly?”

            “It’s Liam. He’s fifteen, I think.”

            “And he’s been a regular member of your book club?”

            “Well, no, he joined this summer. After Hailey and Emma joined the club.”

            “Naturally. I do not feel comfortable with you attending this party.”

            “Why not? Giovanna’s going. Her dad already said it was okay when he picked us up from the library.”

            “What Mr. Bassani allows his daughter to do is his prerogative, but you are mine, and I do not think it would be wise for you to go to some unsupervised party run by a bunch of teenagers. I am no fool to think that alcohol or even drugs won’t be present, and with a mix of boys and girls—absolutely not.”

            “That’s not fair! Everyone else is going.”

            “I doubt that.”

            “Liam said there won’t be much, just snacks and music and maybe some games. It’s more like a hang out than a party. You know Giovanna’s parents would never let her do something they thought wasn’t safe.”

            “You’re not going, Harry. Now stop pestering. I’ve said no.”

            “Sirius would let me go, I bet,” Harry mumbled under his breath.

            That did it. Severus slammed a hand down heavily on the table, creating a resounding smack that made Harry jump in his seat. Severus pointed a stern finger at his son.

            “Go to your room,” Severus demanded. “Now.”

            Harry shoved his chair back as he stood up with a glare before he stomped his feet as heavily as he dared to his room.

            “Slam that door and I swear—” Severus shouted after him but he was interrupted by the slamming door, and he growled under his breath as he stood up himself and headed for his son’s room.

            The doorbell rang, and Severus paused, staring at his son’s bedroom door for a minute before he turned and walked over to the front door, peering through the door viewer to see who was outside. He blinked, then pinched the bridge of his nose before he took a deep breath and opened the door.

            Carys Cardiff, the director of Solaris Family Services, greeted Severus with a smile, a clipboard cradled to her chest.

            “Hello, Mr. Snape,” Carys said. “I’m here for your yearly follow up. How are things going?”

            “It’s not a great time, really, but with a teenager in the house, when is?”

            Carys laughed and nodded her head in understanding.

            “I hear you. My nieces are trying their best to burn the house down while I’m gone, but hopefully it’ll be standing when I get back. May I come in?”

            “Of course,” Severus stepped aside and allowed Carys to enter the house, and she scanned the living room with her eyes before pulling out her wand and performing a few spells. She nodded her head and checked off a box. Severus watched her for a moment, used to the routine of her visits.

            “All clear here,” Carys said. “Let’s check the kitchen.”

            Carys walked into the kitchen and cast a few spells with her wand before she manually opened the cupboards and pantry, scanning the back walls with her wand. She then checked the fridge, scanning with her wand while moving items around with her free hand. She checked off a few boxes on her list before turning to Severus.

            “All looking good so far. So, tell me, what is going on with Harry today?”

            “He wants to go to a party where parents are conveniently not present.”

            “I see. One of the many dilemmas parents face with their teen children. Parties: to go or not to go?” Carys scanned the bathroom briefly before glancing in the mirror cabinet.

            “What would you do in this situation?” Severus asked.

            “I have girls. My answer is no, of course.” Carys allowed Severus to lead the way to his bedroom and adjacent potions lab, where she scanned the walls and every shelf, nook, and cranny. “But my girls are learning about what could be present at parties like that and they have shown me time and time again that they are not easily persuaded by peer pressure. I suppose if my oldest insisted and she promised me to keep away from the alcohol and drugs, I might let her prove to me that she can be trusted in such situations.”

            “And if she fails?”

            “Such is life,” Carys said. “We must learn somehow. And our mistakes are often the most memorable lessons we learn from. If she failed and had a few drinks or got into a spot of trouble, at least I would know how to answer the next time she wanted to go to a party.”

            Severus hmphed agreeably at that while Carys checked the bed and the drawer of his nightside table. She paused at the sight of all the sobriety coins in the drawer. She smiled as she closed the drawer and made another checkmark.

            “I’m afraid there’s one room left I have to look in,” Carys said.

            “Must you?” Severus said. “Who on earth uses their kid’s room as a hiding place for alcohol?”

            “You be surprised.”

            Severus sighed as he walked up to his son’s bedroom door and knocked firmly.

            “Harry,” Severus called out. “Carys is here. She needs to check your room.”

            There was silence for a few seconds before he door clicked open, but instead of holding it open like a respectable gentleman, Harry retreated back to his bed, sitting down and waiting. Severus resisted rolling his eyes as he pushed his son’s bedroom door open and allowed Carys to enter. Severus leaned against the doorframe and watched Carys.

            “Pardon my intrusion, Harry,” Carys said, her wand out and already scanning the walls. She walked toward Harry’s closet and allowed her wand to scan the inside.

            “There’s nothing in here,” Harry said in a tired tone.

            “I know. I must check anyway.”

            “It’s stupid,” Harry said. “Why do you have to check up on us anyway? It’s the same every year. We’re fine.”

            “Harry,” Severus scolded, glaring at his son.

            “Protocols, I’m afraid,” Carys said. She slowly approached the bed, pausing next to it, then said, “I will need you to stand up for the spell, if you don’t mind. Your presence is enough to block its signal.”

            “I do mind,” Harry said. “I’m not hiding anything. You can mark that off on your clipboard.”

            “Harry James,” Severus scolded once more. “Stand up and let Carys do her job.”

            Harry sighed irritably as he stood up and crossed his arms, glaring at Carys while she scanned his bed, checking under and within its structure at the same time.

            “All clear,” Carys said. “Thank you, Harry.”

            “Told you,” Harry said as he plopped down on his bed once more.

            Severus was tempted to smack Harry then and there, but he refrained as Carys walked past him, gesturing for Severus to follow her. Severus left his son’s room, leaving the door open this time as he followed Carys to his living room. He closed his eyes and grinded his teeth when he heard Harry’s door slam shut once again.

            “Someone is prickly today,” Carys commented.

            “My apologies for his behavior,” Severus said. “He’s taking “no” pretty hard right now.”

            “No need to apologize. I completely understand and I do not envy your position right now. However, you did pass your check up, once again, so congratulations. I’m pleased to say that this was a final check-in for you to make sure you’ve remained sober, and it looks like you are doing really well. I’m sure Harry will be pleased to know that we will be seeing less of each other, if at all.”

            “He’s about to be very unpleased in a moment,” Severus said.

            “Well, I’m pleased that you’ve stayed true to your word, Mr. Snape. There are very few who’ve managed to prove me wrong about people never changing.”

            Severus felt a small swell of pride in his chest as he bid Carys goodbye and shut the door behind her, but the feeling faded quickly as he turned around and headed for Harry’s room at a brisk pace, throwing his son’s door open, startling Harry, who was lying down on his bed. Harry had the good sense to look apprehensive and sit up slightly, but Severus was towering over him in a split second.

            “How dare you,” Severus snarled. He grabbed Harry’s arm, rolled his son over, then pinned him down on the bed with a hand on his back and lit into his rear end, raining down smack after smack while Harry yelped and squirmed on the bed in an attempt to avoid the smacks.

            “I have never been more appalled by your behavior,” Severus continued. “Disrespectful, rude, defiant—I will not stand for that.”

            “Ow! Dad, stop, I’m sorry!”

            “There is never any reason to treat our guests with such flippant, confrontational attitude. I better not catch you doing that again or you will face far worse consequences the next time. Is that clear, young man?”

            “Yes, it’s clear.” Harry hissed at a particularly hard smack, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Please, I’m sorry.”

            Severus smacked Harry a few more times before he released his son. Harry slowly turned over, hissing slightly as he did so. He sat up on his bed, leaning back against the headboard. Severus sat down on the edge of Harry’s bed and gave his son a disappointed look.

            “Why would you treat Carys like that?” Severus asked. “I understand you are upset with me, but she did not deserve your lip.”

            “I don’t know,” Harry said softly, wiping his eyes. “I was just annoyed that she was here again.”

            “We haven’t seen her in a year.”

            “I know, it’s just . . . why she comes. What it all means. I know you haven’t . . . you know, but if she finds something she doesn’t like, she can end this all and take me away.”

            “You know she only comes to check in on how we are doing. There has never been a time she’s considered anything other than my old habits to be cause for your removal.”

            “I know.”

            Harry didn’t say anything else so Severus continued.

            “She was quite pleased with her visit today, despite your behavior. This may have been the last visit from her.”

            “Really?” Harry asked.

            “Yes. If you had simply been patient and understanding with her performing her job, she may have informed you of that herself. You don’t have to worry about her finding anything now as she will not be back around. I hope that alleviates your worry over those visits we had with her.”  

            Harry looked down at his knees, drumming his fingers against them slowly.  

            “It kind of does,” Harry confessed. “Can I be honest about something?”

            “Always,” Severus said, frowning slightly at his son.

            “I know you don’t like Sirius,” Harry said, “but he was supposed to be my guardian when my parents died. He told me that he was a mess when my parents died and he sought revenge instead of sticking around and making sure I ended up in a good home. If he hadn’t gone after Pettigrew, maybe I never would have even known the Dursleys.”

            Severus gave his son a sad look. Honestly, it would have been better if Black had taken Harry all those years ago, as much as Severus didn’t want to admit it. Anything was better than living with those awful relatives Harry had been forced to stay with. Severus would have preferred a spoiled Harry over an abused one any day.

            “Sometimes I think about how different my life could have been if I had been raised by Sirius from the start.” Harry wiped his eyes again. “Not that you haven’t been a great dad, but . . .”

            “I know,” Severus said honestly. Even though hearing it from Harry’s mouth stung a bit, he could understand the temptation. The dream of what could have been. “But it does not do anyone any good dwelling on what-ifs. In doing so, we often forget about what we have in the present.”

            They were both silent for a moment before Harry spoke up.

            “I’m sorry about how I acted,” Harry said, “over the party and when Carys was here.”

            “You are forgiven,” Severus said.

            “You’re not changing your mind about the party, though, huh?”

            “I am not.”

            Harry sighed but nodded his head.

            “Perhaps, when you are a bit older, we can revisit the subject of you attending parties like this one,” Severus said, surprising Harry, who’s eyes widened.

            “I’m almost fourteen,” Harry said.

            “Exactly,” Severus said as he stood up. “And in another year, I’ll have plenty of time to talk to you about underage drinking, drugs, and the birds and the bees.”

            Harry’s face reddened.

            “On second thought, muggle parties don’t sound like that much fun,” he said.

            Severus snorted and ruffled his son’s hair. At that moment, the doorbell rang again, and Severus was seriously considering blasting the wretched thing off his house. He left his son’s room and made his way back to the front door, looking through the door viewer. He smiled, then called out, “Harry, it’s for you.”

            Harry was frowning as he came out of his bedroom, glancing at his father who pretended to be more interested in the mail at the dining table. Harry looked through the door viewer, then smiled and opened the door.

            “Hi, Harry,” Giovanna said. She handed a card over to Harry. “For you.”

            “What is it?” Harry asked, opening the card and reading the inside.

            “I’d hope that at your age, you would be able to read,” Giovanna said, a smirk on her face.

            Harry read what was on the inside of the card and he smiled.

            “An invitation to your own party,” Harry said. “What happened to the one Liam was having?”

            “I decided I wasn’t that interested in his party. Dad figured I’d back out of it. So, instead, we’re going to have a party at my place. You and a few others from the book club. Mum and Dad will be home but they’re letting me have the living room to myself. We’ll have dinner, snacks, and maybe watch a movie, maybe an adaptation of one of the books we’ve read. It starts at four, so you have two hours to prepare. Don’t be late.”

            “That sounds great,” Harry said.
            Severus agreed in his head, and he was glad that Giovanna’s parents had the same thoughts as he did over this other party taking place without parental supervision. When Harry glanced back at him, he offered a small smile and nodded his head. Harry’s own smile widened, and he looked back at Giovanna.

            “I’ll be there,” Harry said.

            Giovanna said goodbye and Harry closed the door, then ran over to Severus and hugged his father. Severus returned the hug, though he gave his son a curious look.

            “I’m proud to have you as my dad,” Harry said. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

            Severus felt his heart warm at those words, and every worry about Black that haunted him the last few weeks vanished. He placed a kiss on his son’s temple.

            “Neither would I,” he said.  

Chapter Text

            Severus studied several jars of herbs on the many shelves in the Apothecary. He needed to stock up on supplied before the new school year began, as well as pick up Harry’s supplies for the upcoming year. Speaking of his son, Severus glanced at the entrance when a small bell above the door rang as it was opened. Harry paused in the entryway, scanning the store before he saw Severus in the back, and he made his way over to his father.

            “How was your visit with Black?” Severus asked as his son paused next to him.

            “It was okay,” Harry said with a shrug. “We talked a lot about my parents and when they were in school. Then about the upcoming school year. He wanted to know what electives I’d be taking and if I was planning to sign up for any extracurriculars. When I said probably Quidditch, he mentioned the World Cup was being hosted locally this year. Sounded kind of cool.”

            “Indeed,” Severus commented. “It has been quite a few years since Great Britain hosted the World Cup. You had no trouble with the floo and arriving safely to the Leaky Cauldron after your visit?”

            “No, sir.”

            “Very good. When I am finished here, we will gather your school supplies before going home.”

            “I haven’t even gotten my letter yet.”

            “Then it’s a good thing I know exactly what you’ll need this curriculum, isn’t it?” Severus said with a small smirk.

            “How lucky am I?” Harry asked with a roll of his eyes.

            “Very lucky, for the sooner you have everything, the sooner you can do some prerequisite reading.” Severus picked up a few jars and settled them in his basket where he had a small collection of other ingredients. “Wait for me in the front while I finish collecting a few more items and then we’ll head to Flourish and Blotts.”

            “Can we stop at the Quidditch store first?” Harry asked. “Maybe there’s merchandise for the World Cup?”

            “A trivial matter,” Severus said with a shake of his head. At Harry’s disappointed look, Severus sighed and added, “After we grab everything else on our list, we will see if there is time to make a quick stop at the Quidditch store.”

            Harry’s face brightened and Severus directed him to the front of the store while he carried on toward the back where the cashier waited to check them out. Severus picked up a few more jars, bottles, and vials as he made his way to the counter for check out. He settled his basket down on the counter and took everything out helpfully while the cashier priced everything and tallied the total up.

            “I noticed,” Severus began as he pulled the last few items out of his basket, “that you had a new shipment of Hellebore Ebbers in the back of your store. What in Merlin’s name are you doing with a plant like that?”

            “Special request,” the cashier said. “Old potioneer is looking to make a cancer killer out of the bulbs and roots.”

            “Seeing as the rest of the plant is highly toxic, I would hope that he’d only use the bulbs and roots. I’m assuming this is a last-ditch effort on the potioneer’s part?”

            “The daughter is sick,” the cashier said. “Stage four cancer, if I recall correctly. The plant has only ever been used in one other potion—youth restorer. My guess is he wants to try and revert the cancer back as far as he can to give himself time to find a cure.”

            “Good luck to him,” Severus said. “If I may, would it be possible to purchase one of the plants for myself? The bulbs and roots are rather useful in creating potent healing potions. Of course, studying the rest of the plant is an added bonus.”

            “Have you ever dealt with these flowers, sir?”

            “No. But I’ve handled many magical plants in the past, I’m sure this one won’t be too challenging to figure out.”

“I’ll trust your word. Just don’t make the plant angry.” The cashier tapped his chin before saying, “I suppose I could sacrifice one of the smaller pots for you—if you were willing to pay double what the other bloke is offering?”

“I believe my teaching allowance will cover that,” Severus said, counting out a few extra galleons. The cashier smiled and left to grab a smaller pot with a single blooming flower. He paid for his supplies along with the owl delivery fee to have them shipped to Hogwarts where he knew the house elves would unpack and stock everything for him. He asked about taking the flower home, which the cashier then wrapped the flower and its pot in a loose paper bag, tying off different ends before summoning a small chip.

“Here, tap this chip while imagining your house, preferably, the place in your house you would like the plant to go. These coins create brief portkeys for small item transportation. Far safer than asking an owl or house elf to try relocating it.”

Severus did as the man said, and the coin shimmered before swallowing the flower pot, both disappearing. Severus found the precautions odd but said nothing against it. Once he was finished, he headed back to the front of the store, glancing around for Harry, and Harry bit back a growl when he noticed his son was nowhere in the front of the store.

            “Mr. Potter!” Severus snapped loudly, being mindful of other parents or students who might be shopping in Diagon Alley as well.

            There was a scuffle somewhere in the store before Harry came running over to Severus, coughing so harshly into his arm that tears were welling in his eyes.

            “What did you do?” Severus asked, crossing his arms and raising a brow.

            “Nothing,” Harry said, catching his breath at last and lowering his arm. “I was just looking at some things and accidentally knocked into a shelf. Nothing fell, just a lot of dust.”

            “Well, let’s leave before you break something I’ll have to pay for.” Severus said, gesturing to the door.

            “You know, I could pay for it, too.”

            “Oh, your scrawny backside most certainly would pay for it. Let’s finish gathering our supplies so we can head home in time for lunch.”

After a long late morning spent in Diagon Alley, Harry proudly hung up a moving World Cup Nineteen Ninety-Four poster in his bedroom while Severus made an easy meal of chicken salad. After lunch, Harry was tasked with washing dishes while Severus edited a few lesson plans at the dining table when his tawny owl, Castiel, appeared with the muggle mail. Severus accepted the mail and rewarded the owl with a bit of chicken he had left out in anticipation of Castiel’s delivery, and he stared in confusion at one of the envelopes. It was covered in stamps, save for the address in the center, which was actually addressed to the Dursleys and their home on Privet Drive. Severus had spelled all mail regarding Harry that was ever sent to the Dursleys to reroute to his own address, so he knew whatever was in the envelope regarded his son.

            “What’s that?” Harry asked after drying his hands off. He stepped over to the table and offered Castiel a little more left-over chicken, which the owl happily took.

            “I don’t know,” Severus said, opening the envelope and reading the letter. A smirk slowly grew on his face as he read the letter. Harry walked around his father and read the letter over his shoulder, a smile creeping on his own face.

            “She did put enough stamps on, then,” Harry said, remarking on where the sender had asked if she had placed enough stamps on the envelope or not.

            “That she did,” Severus said. The letter was from Molly Weasley who was wondering if she and her husband could escort Harry to the final of the Quidditch World Cup that would be taking place Monday night, and if he could stay for the remainder of the summer holidays.

            “Can I go, Dad?” Harry asked. “Please?”

            Severus sighed as he reread the letter once more while debating it internally in his head. The Weasleys wanted to pick Harry up Friday evening, probably for travel purposes, arriving early, and settling in was Severus’s guess. That was two days away. Harry was practically radiating with excitement behind him, and he relented and nodded his head.

            “You may go,” he said, “but only for the World Cup. As soon as you return to the Weasley’s home, you will floo back here.”

            “Yes, sir!” Harry wrapped his arms around his father’s neck. “Thank you, thank you!”

            “Alright, there’s no need to strangle me,” Severus joked lightly as he pulled his son’s arms off him before he pulled his son forward until he was standing directly in front of him. He gave his son a stern look. “You will mind Mr. and Mrs. Weasley while you are in their care. Stay with them at all times, and I better not hear of any misbehavior, is that clear?”

            “Like they’d write about any,” Harry muttered.

            “Is that clear?” Severus repeated.

            “Yes, sir.”

            “I will write back explaining that you will floo to their house rather than they pick you up.” Severus summoned a muggle notebook and pen. “And explain that you will not be spending the rest of the summer there as you are wanted back for family time before you are gone for school.”

            “Oh sure,” Harry agreed. “That sounds like something the Dursleys would say about me.”

            “Go pack,” Severus said as he began writing his letter. He ignored his son’s snicker as his child ran to his room to start packing for the trip.

            After he finished writing the letter and changing the font to resemble a more delicate and flowery script that he imagined Petunia would have, he sent Castiel off with it. He decided to check in on the new plant in his lab.

            He did not have much experience with Hellebore Ebbers save for when he bought already harvested bulbs and roots. All he knew was that the plant was highly toxic, very temperamental, and very hard to find in the wild. Severus removed the paper bag hiding the plant, and he stared at its large yellow petals and vibrant orange center. The petals had small orange freckles all over them, and those freckles suddenly started to glow, along with the center of the plant. The flower seemed to rise slightly as the glow brightened, as if staring right back at Severus challengingly.

            Severus took a few steps back, and the flower relaxed while the glowing disappeared.

            Strange. Severus stepped closer again, and the flower rose up once more, the center and spots glowing again. He waited a few seconds as he watched the plant, but when he heard a small hissing noise, he stepped back once more, and the flower relaxed.

            “You like your space,” Severus said. “Noted.”

            Severus walked over to his worktable and flipped open a notebook where he began jotting notes down about the plant.

            “Dad,” Harry called into the lab hesitantly, waiting by the sliding door for entry.

            “Come in, Harry,” Severus said.

            “I was wondering if we could ask if the Weasleys had one more extra ticket,” Harry said as he walked into the lab, moving to stand next to Severus, glancing back curiously at the new plant.

            “Why?” Severus asked, frowning slightly at his son.

            “Well, I know you wouldn’t want to go,” Harry quickly said. “But I thought Giovanna might like to go. Quidditch isn’t her favorite thing, but she does like to watch it. This would be so cool for her to see, I bet. And she’s into competitive sports, she does jumping with her horse.”

            “Horse sports and quidditch are two very different things.” Severus returned to writing down a few notes before he lost his train of thought.

            “Yeah, but I still think she’d have fun.” Harry walked away from the table, and Severus glanced up for a second to see what he was doing before looking back at his book.

            “Stay away from that flower,” Severus said.

            “What is it?” Harry asked, pausing a few feet away from the new plant.

            “A Hellebore Ebber,” Severus said. He picked up his journal and leaned back against the table so he could look at the flower once more and draw a quick sketch of it before he started taking it apart. He wasn’t sure what he would do with the flower portion of the plant as few potioneers have ever studied using them in any kind of potion. He had always wondered why, especially since the bulb and roots had such great healing and restorative potential. Surely there was a way to change the natural toxins of the plant to something better in a potion.

            “Is there a reason it’s glowing?” Harry asked.

            Severus froze, his head snapping up in time to see the flower lifting ever so slightly, facing Harry directly, its spotted petals and center glowing brightly. Harry had not moved from where he stood a few feet away from the plant, but clearly the plant did not like being stared at either.  Severus set his journal down and walked toward his son, ready to yank him away from the flower.

            “Harry, move away from—”

            All Harry could do was look in Severus’s direction before the flower spat out a large cloud of thick pollen that covered Harry completely. Severus jumped back, narrowly avoiding getting any of the pollen on himself, and he stared wide eyed as the pollen swirled around his son like a twister, hiding Harry from sight for several seconds before the pollen fell harmlessly to the ground, its magic exhausted.

            However, Harry was no longer . . . well, a teenager.

            Now, a small baby, somewhere between seven to ten months old, sat where Harry once stood, surrounded by clothes that were too large and a pair of glasses falling off his nose. Harry sneezed out a bit of pollen, which made the glasses fall off his face. Then, he held out his hands and stared at them for a second before looking down at himself. His lip quivered as he glanced up at Severus.

            Severus was speechless and yet, very intrigued. He waved a hand, summoning the paper bag to cover the flower once more while stepping closer to his son. He kneeled in front of Harry, staring down at the small baby that seemed to wait expectantly for Severus to do something.

            “How extraordinary,” Severus muttered. He picked up the glasses and pocketed them so they were not lost or broken. “The pollen of the plant must act as some kind of defense, and it does so by regressing a potential attacker to a more nonthreatening state of being. Though, I feel if any more of that pollen hit you, you would have shrunk out of existence.”

            Harry made a small coo as he cocked his head to the side, sounding a bit concerned for himself.

            “You seem unharmed otherwise.” Severus summoned a blanket and wrapped it around Harry as he freed his son from the mess of clothes on the ground, giving him a quick glance over as he dd so. “No injuries, no cuts, no bruises. Just . . . a baby.”

            Harry watched his father closely as he was settled on the table. Severus pulled his journal close, staring at Harry a moment longer before writing his observations in it, wanting to document this strange happenstance fully, describing what had happened and the condition his son was in. He paused for a moment to use the end of his quill to gently pry Harry’s mouth open, which Harry obliged in slight confusion, allowing Severus to see a normal color on his gums as well as two top teeth. Severus returned to writing in his journal, only pausing again when Harry made a very disgruntled noise. He looked at his son.

            Harry was frowning at him, his arms crossed in a clear pout.

            “What?” Severus asked.

            “Ahh!” Harry said as he waved a hand at the journal.

            “I’m making observations,” Severus said as he finished writing a few notes down. “It’s not everyday one gets the chance to experiment the effects of a highly dangerous plant.”

            “Mmm,” Harry growled, crossing his arms as best he could again.

            “You’re the one who didn’t heed the flower’s warning.” Severus snapped his journal shut then walked over to his shelves of supplies. “If something starts glowing at you, it might be best to move on, not continue to stare and watch.”

            “Nah deedee nabada,” Harry said firmly.

            “Right,” Severus said as he opened a lower cabinet and scanned the book spines for a specific tome. He found the one he wanted and pulled it out, flipping through it as he walked back to the table Harry was sitting on.

            “Ah,” Harry cooed, reaching his hands out toward the book.

            “Oh, this doesn’t have a cure in it,” Severus said, correctly guessing what Harry was excited about. The baby visibly deflated with a pout. Severus snorted before setting the book down, revealing a detailed page about the Hellebore Ebber, a few drawings of the plant scattered around the print. “The Hellebore Ebber is an understudied plant in the field of herbology. It is rare, hides in the darkest forests in small pockets all over the world, and possesses a dark magic few wizards wish to deal with. Very few herbologists and potioneers have attempted to house and grow the plants, and their research remains unknown due to the mysterious disappearances of those very wizards and witches. I suppose we’ve discovered how they disappeared.”

            Severus looked at Harry pointedly, who stuck his tongue out at his father.

            “The flower remains difficult to find and harvest, though daring adventurers continue to add the plant on their inventory to locate and kill the plant, gathering their bulbs and roots, the only part of the plant that can be safely used in potions without adverse side effects. The bulb carries healing properties, while the roots offer enhanced restorative energy, and together, are useful in the strongest healing potions. The roots alone may also be added to Skele-Gro for a stronger and faster acting brew.”

            “Wah bu ma,” Harry started to say, but Severus held up a finger to shush him.

            “While the plant remains widely unknown in average wizarding population due to lack of studies, the few studies performed on rats reveal that the plant carries a strong neurotoxin in its pollen that can be successfully reverted with an antitoxin carefully extracted from the host and purified. While the rats were only fed a small portion of the plant in these studies, none were harmed or needed to be humanely euthanized after, though there may have been a slight change in stature. To date, no other studies have been performed on the Hellebore Ebber.”

            Harry waited a moment when Severus finished speaking before tilting his head and frowning, creating what Severus would call a questioning coo.

            “That’s all the information we have to go on,” Severus said. “Clearly no one has ever made it past this stage in their studies. My guess is many of them attempted to study the plant solo, not imagining that this may be the outcome. How unfortunate for them.”

            Severus sent the book flying back to its place in the lower cupboard. He opened a drawer at the table, rifling through for a few items he rarely needed in potion brewing, and prayed he still had on hand. He smiled when he found what he needed and pulled the few items out while simultaneously summoning a cauldron that floated over to the table before careful lowering itself on the burner in the center of the table. Harry watched curiously as he listened to his father.

            “I can make an antitoxin to remove the pollen’s magic in your system. That won’t be difficult. What will be challenging is finding the right combination of ingredients to age you back to your correct age. I suspect a modified Ageing Potion with a touch of Mandrake Restorative Draught. Yes, that should give me the aging factor along with restoring you to your correct age and health. And for insurance, we can use the bulb and root of the very plant that did this to you.”

            “Ei?” Harry questioned, scrunching his nose at the very thought of having anything to do with the Hellebore Ebber.

            “Because, as I just read, those parts of the plant are very powerful healers and restorers. Their addition will ensure the potion is potent and effective. And with a few drops of the antitoxin added in, you’ll be good as new. Theoretically.” Severus picked up a small instrument, a small light bulb shaped glass vial no bigger than a strawberry, then he grabbed Harry’s hand, pulling his arm straight out before he flicked the instrument at Harry’s elbow.

            Harry gasped as the vial latched onto his arm, a small needle stabbing him in the vein over the joint of his elbow, and the little vial filled quickly with his blood. The vial withdrew the needle once it was full, then picked itself up and hovered in the air while Severus placed a small piece of gauze over the puncture.

            Harry met Severus’s eyes as his lower lip quivered.

            “Don’t give me that, you hardly felt it.” Severus tried to ignore the small pang of guilt in his chest. Harry was awfully cute right now, and he was pulling on heartstrings Severus didn’t even know he had with his small pouts. “The element of surprise made for a less dramatic blood draw than if I had told you what I was going to do and allowed you to work yourself up over it.”

            Harry sniffled as he watched Severus touch his wand to the gauze, a small yellow flash emitting from the tip, then Severus removed the gauze, revealing healed skin beneath.

            “I should be able to create a neurotoxin with what is running through your blood. Now that I have what I need, we should probably find some clothes for you.”

            Harry looked down at himself, his lower half wrapped up in a small blanket still.

            Severus waved his wand at the pile of clothes on the floor, and Harry’s blue shirt he had been wearing shrunk and flew over to table. Severus plucked the shirt out of the air and carefully dressed Harry into it. Then, he flicked his wand at the blanket wrapped around Harry, transfiguring it into a white cloth diaper.

            “Argg!” Harry growled, glaring at his father after witnessing what the blanket had become.

            “You’re a baby,” Severus said. “I do not think you’ll be finding yourself running to the loo anytime soon.”

            Harry’s face turned very red as he pouted at Severus, crossing his arms once more. Severus kept a straight face as he crossed his own arms and stared back, quirking a brow at his son. Harry stuck out his tongue and Severus chuckled, unable to keep the straight face any longer.

            “You are still a brat,” Severus said. “Now, I want you far away from this table while I work on your potion.” He picked up his son and Harry kicked at him stubbornly. Severus rolled his eyes as he set Harry on the floor, waiting until Harry had his feet under him before letting him go. “Very well, let’s go.”

            Severus took a few steps toward the back of his lab, then paused to watch Harry, who had not moved yet, his arms out in front of him for balance.

            Harry seemed to take a deep breath before taking a step forward. He wobbled on his feet for nearly ten seconds before falling on his bottom. He whined in frustration, balling his fists and scrunching his face. Severus couldn’t help smiling down at his son, finding the situation rather amusing.

            “We have two days to fix your situation,” Severus said. “Unless you’d like to go to the Weasleys’ as a baby and have your best friend change your nappies?”

            Harry’s wide eyes and pale face spoke enough for the child, and Severus picked up his son once more. He carried his son to the back of his lab, far away from the plant and his table. He transfigured a cauldron into a pewter crib, then summoned a pillow to transfigure into a thin mattress that he sized to fit the crib. He set Harry in it, ignoring his son’s annoyed face as he plopped him down on the mattress.

            “You’ll be safe here while I brew,” Severus said. “You’ll just be in the way otherwise and I can’t in good conscience let you wander the house as you are.”

            Harry simply pouted, so Severus let him be and walked over to the covered flower responsible for the mess they were in. Without removing the bag, he slashed his wand through the air, chopping the head of the flower off, part of the paper bag ripping and falling with the killed flower. What a waste of a good study, Severus couldn’t help but think. He had hoped to play with the petals and pollen in other potion trials, but perhaps it was for the best that this had happened. After all, it could have been him that ended up in Harry’s position, and that would have been an awful case scenario.

            With the flower disabled, Severus removed the remaining paper bag away from the lower end of the plant, revealing a wilting stem. He dug through the pot and pulled out the bulb and roots, snapping them apart from the rest of the plant and shaking off the dirt as he brought it all to his sink for a wash. He brought the clean bulb and roots to his table, where he summoned several other ingredients: stewed mandrake, newt spleens, bay leaves, standard ingredient, scarab beetles, dittany, billywig stings, and wormwood. Once all his ingredients were laid out, he picked up the small vial of Harry’s blood and used his wand to cast a spinning charm on it, and it spun itself on its fragile edge at hyper speed, separating the serum from the blood.

            The potion would take a while to brew. Some of the steps were painstakingly slow and others simply required time and patience, but he should be able to finish it by the end of the day, just in time to let it simmer for several hours after.

            Before he could perform another step in the process, he heard Harry begin crying, then suddenly stop. Then he cried again before forcefully stopping once more. Severus sighed and walked over to the crib, looking down at his son as he leaned over the rail. Harry had tears streaming down his face that he was furiously rubbing away.

            “What is wrong?” Severus asked.

            Harry’s eyes watered once more as a sob escaped his lips before Harry shoved a hand in his mouth to stop himself.

            “Don’t fight the baby instincts. I doubt you’ll win. Is there some way you can try to tell me what your problem is? Hungry? Tired?”

            Harry’s face reddened as he sucked on his fingers to keep from crying once more. He made no attempt to give any signals, and Severus was about to just let him cry out the baby urges while he returned to brewing when he caught a rather putrid smell, and his eyes widened as he realized why Harry was beginning to cry.

            “Already?” he couldn’t help but ask in annoyance.

Harry’s face only grew hotter.

            Severus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

            “This is going to be a long two days.”

Chapter Text

Severus laid Harry down on a cleared portion of his workbench, then hesitated as he tried to think of all the different aspects of diaper changing. He had never changed a baby’s diaper, so he tried to rack his brain over what he thought was appropriate and what objects he may have passed in a muggle store. He would need a fresh nappy, some cleaning cloths, maybe . . . was it baby powder? Was that necessary every time?

            Harry, who had been sniffling at first, gave Severus a curious look at his hesitation, then began giggling.

            “What is so funny?” Severus asked, crossing his arms and quirking a brow at his son. He guessed correctly what may have caused his son’s laughter and rolled his eyes. “And just how many diapers have you changed in your lifetime?”

            Harry blew a raspberry at his father.

            “Cheeky brat,” Severus said. He waved a hand, summoning a book and a few washcloths. The book flipped through several pages while Severus transfigured one washcloth into a clean nappy while changing the other washcloths into a softer cloth for cleaning. The book stopped suddenly midway through, and Severus read the page, Harry turning his head curiously to see what his father was reading.

            “In the absence of baby powder,” Severus said, “it looks like I can use cornstarch as an alternative.”

            Severus raised a hand, and cornstarch came flying into the room and into his grasp. Harry babbled as he reached for the book, and Severus closed it to show Harry the cover: Advice for New Parents: Volume One.

“Ei?” Harry scrunched his nose and tilted his head at it.

“I picked this up . . . a couple years ago,” Severus supplied. He sent the book flying back to the shelf it came from. Harry giggled loudly once more, and Severus narrowed his eyes at him. “Oh, I’m so pleased you find that as amusing as me not knowing how to change a diaper. If I were you, I’d zip it, or I’ll make this a rather unpleasant experience. As it is, I have absolutely no baby pictures of you, and I’m thinking some sailor outfit ones might be exceptionally cute.”

All the amusement fell from Harry’s face as he stared up at his father wide-eyed.

“That’s what I thought,” Severus said.

Removing the nappy and cleaning Harry was not difficult, and Severus talked to Harry about the Hellebore Ebber plant while he changed the baby.

“The pollen’s capabilities intrigue me. With such powerful deaging magic, it may be possible to deage someone to before they even had the cancer, or even deage the cancer right out of the body if you can harness the right properties. The latter may be a safer alternative, though neither are permanent cures as deaging the person or the cancer would prevent the cancer from growing back. Nor is it healthy for the body to go through repetitive deaging just to keep cancer at bay. Attempting to prolong life does not usually end well for anyone.”

“Why?” Harry asked, one of the few comprehensible words he managed to utter.

“Few things in life are truly reversible, especially age. And sometimes, cancer.”

“Wuh buh ta ma ta ha—”

“I do not understand your baby gibberish,” Severus said as he applied a thin coating of cornstarch to Harry’s bum before fastening the fresh nappy. “I should probably send an owl to that clerk selling the Hellebore Ebbers to the wizard hoping to cure his daughter. We wouldn’t want him to meet the same fate you have, now, would we?”

“Ahh,” Harry cooed in answer as Severus picked him up and set him on the floor for a moment. Severus waved his hand over the table, vanishing the used nappy and cleaning the table. That hadn’t been too difficult, and he didn’t have too much trouble for his first time changing a nappy. He glanced down at Harry—except the baby was not sitting at his feet where he had set him.

“Harry?” Severus asked aloud, looking around his feet before squatting to look under the workbench. There was no baby, though, and he scanned his lab, his eyes falling on Harry’s trousers that were still crumpled on the floor where Harry had transformed. His eyes widened as he watched Harry pull his wand out from a pant pocket.

“Harry, no!” Severus scolded, walking over to the baby, who started crawling away with the wand tight in his grasp. “Put that down.”      

Severus lunged for the child, but the baby crawled under his brewing table, just out of Severus’s reach.

“Come here,” Severus said, kneeling and reaching under the table, but Harry managed to scoot away. “How are you so freakishly fast?”

Harry sat under the middle section of the table and held his wand in his hand, frowning in thought. Severus pulled a few stools out of his way as he practically crawled under the table after his son.

“There’s not a spell or enchantment that you can come up with to fix yourself,” Severus said. “Give me your wand. You don’t even have the strength to push your magic through it anyway.”

Severus could just brush Harry’s feet with his fingertips, and the little brat crawled away from him. He growled under his breath as he pulled out from under the bench, nearly jogging around the table and snatching the baby into his arms.

“Argg!” Harry complained as Severus removed the wand from his fingers, having to pry it out of Harry’s tight grip. Who knew babies had such hand strength? Harry grumbled lowly as Severus carried him back to the crib.

“You know, you are too little for a smack on the bum,” Severus said, “but pull a stunt like that, and I’ll keep a tally mark of how many times I need to swat you when you’re back to your correct age.”

“Nah buh duh buh,” Harry babbled irritably as he was plopped down on the mattress in his crib.

“I know you’re not enjoying your current state,” Severus said, leaning over the rail. “But you should be back to your correct age by tomorrow afternoon. After a long nap once you take the potion. It’ll simmer over night, but it needs a full fourteen hours, so the sooner I can get started on your potion, the sooner you’ll be of good health to attend the game with your friends.”

Harry let out a small cry as he fell back on the mattress, crossing his arms and staring up at his father with a rather defeated face. Severus snorted at the look, reaching down to gently ruffle his son’s messy hair, then he moved back to the cauldron waiting for him to begin brewing.

It was an easy potion to make, as it required few but very powerful ingredients. A pinch of minced mandrake root, chopped ginger, a single string of turtles, standard ingredient, a tablespoon of ground unicorn horn, and a few petals of asphodel. Simple, no difficult preparations, no finicky steps. He was done in an hour, and all that was left was to leave the concoction to simmer. It would be done by six am, and would only need to cool down and thicken into a bisque-like texture, which could take an hour or two, so really, by eight am.

Severus set the potion to simmer, casting a protective bubble around the potion to keep it safe and keep any splatter to a minimum. He glanced over at the crib and smiled at Harry sleeping peacefully. No wonder he had been so quiet. Not wanting to disturb the peace, Severus sat down at his workbench away from the potion and wrote out a quick letter explaining his situation with Harry and his studies on the plant that he had managed to do before sending Castiel off with the letter back to the apothecary he had picked up the plant from.

While walking back toward his bedroom and adjacent lab, the fireplace flared up for a moment, turning green, indicating a floo call for Spinner’s End.

Severus had kept the house for the time being while his position as spy remained active, but he had charmed any floo calls that were made to the house to redirect to his current home, though the calls needed to be spelled through in order to see into the house, that way, there were no surprises. Severus cast a small illusion on his living room, turning the interior to resemble the living quarters in the Spinner’s End house. He waved his wand over the fireplace, allowing the floo call to come through fully, and Lucius Malfoy’s face appeared in the flames.

“Severus, dear friend,” Lucius greeted, a smile on his face. “Enjoying your summer free of wretched students and paperwork, I hope?”

“As best I can,” Severus said.

“Well, hopefully, I can excite your summer I bit more. I have acquired several tickets to the World Cup, surely, you’ve heard who is hosting this year? Well, a few of our acquaintances and I will be enjoying the game from an outstanding view, the best seats money could buy. I believe I could spare one for you if you wish to join.”

“I would rather continue to enjoy my solitude away from even our . . . acquaintances, Lucius. You know I’ve never cared much for sports.”

“Nonsense, Severus, you don’t wish to spend the rest of your life as a hermit, do you? This could do good for your social standing. Besides, we could all spend time catching up with each other, have a few drinks, and remember the good ol’ days.”

Good ol’ days? Those days were the biggest mistakes of his life and some of his worst memories. Severus sighed heavily through his nose, making his displeasure known.

“Don’t be like that,” Lucius scolded. “You do not have to join us if you truly don’t wish. The ticket I have guarantees you a seat wherever you’d like, so you can hide in some dark corner of the stadium, if you prefer. I have already sent my owl off with it. Show up, or don’t, but it would be a waste of good money if you do not use the ticket.”

“Thank you, but . . .” Severus hesitated as he remembered Harry’s question about inviting Giovanna along. “I will consider your request.”

“That’s the spirit!” Lucius said with a grin. “If you do come, find me for a few drinks, or just put yours on my tab, I insist.”

“I’ll remember,” Severus said. “If that is all, I’m afraid I must check in on a potion I have brewing in my lab currently.”

            “Of course, of course. I’ll hopefully see you at the game.” Lucius’s head disappeared in the flames, and once the fire vanished, Severus canceled the illusion charm in the living room. At least he could surprise Harry with a ticket for Giovanna once he was back to his correct age.

            As he headed through his room and back to his lab, he noticed Harry was yawning and stretching in the crib. Severus checked on the potion briefly before walking over to his son, smiling down at how cute Harry was as a baby. Harry blinked up at his tiredly.

            “You know, I was just thinking that perhaps I’d rather keep you as a baby than restore you to your proper age,” Severus said. “After all, you don’t nearly have as much lip at this size.”

            Harry frowned and blew a raspberry.

            “I take that back. You are a brat no matter what age you are.”

            Harry offered a cheeky smile, then looked down as his stomach rumbled loudly.

“Ah-ah!” Harry pointed at his open mouth pointedly.

            “Hmm.” Severus frowned. “I actually didn’t consider what I would be feeding you, even if it’s just for today. At your age you would still be on formula, I’m sure.”

            Harry stuck his tongue out at that.

            “I’m afraid that’s what your body needs right now. There’s no work around what your system can and can’t digest properly. I’ll find you a snack, then we’ll need to figure out the formula problem.”

            Severus picked up Harry and carried him out to the kitchen. He transfigured one of his dining table chairs into a wooden highchair and set Harry into it. He managed to find a strawberry yogurt cup in his fridge and shrunk a spoon for Harry to use. While Harry poorly manipulated the spoon from the yogurt to his mouth, making an absolute mess of the snack, Severus reviewed a few of his potion tomes to see if there was a cheat to making baby formula. Unfortunately, he could not find anything, and he figured a trip out to the store was his best bet.

            “Dada!” Harry said loudly as he finished his small meal. He held up the empty yogurt cup, though half of the cup appeared to be coated all over Harry’s face and shirt. Severus chuckled in amusement, then summoned a washcloth to clean Harry’s face.

            “Looks like you and I will need to head out to the store,” Severus said as he wiped Harry’s hands. “We need to buy formula to give your body a proper meal.”

            Harry made a face and a small grunt of disagreement.

            “I’m sure you’d much rather starve until tomorrow, but babies dehydrate quickly, faster than a child or adult, and I’d rather not need a trip to St. Mungo’s over something very avoidable. Besides, in your state, you might like it.”

            Harry threw the spoon at Severus when he turned away to throw out the yogurt cup. Severus turned stern eyes on his son.

            “You know what, that’s your first tally mark. Keep it up and you’ll be getting a full spanking when you’re back to fourteen.”

            Harry stuck his tongue out stubbornly.

            After another diaper change (to Harry’s embarrassment), and being dressed in a clean shirt and trousers, Severus tapped his wand on Harry’s head, changing his son’s hair to a dirty blonde and his eyes to a bright blue color. He didn’t expect anyone to question the baby too much, but he’d rather not have the baby look too much like Harry. Once that was done, Severus created a baby carrier for himself, fitting it to his chest before strapping Harry in, ignoring the small pout on his face.

            Severus wanted to make the trip as quick as possible, so he made sure to speedwalk down the sidewalk toward town, finding himself at the grocery store in ten minutes. He wanted to avoid running into anyone he knew so they would never ask about the baby again, but perhaps that was wishful thinking. Inside the grocery store, he found the baby aisle, and he stared at the many options of baby formula in front of him in confusion. Anti-reflux formula? Hypo-allergenic formula? Lactose-free formula? Soy or specialized? Why couldn’t this have been a straightforward process? Why were there five hundred different kinds of baby formula? Did not all babies need the same thing?

            “What do you think, Harry?” Severus asked in a whisper, hoping for some kind of assistance in this decision. Maybe Harry could pick his own formula.

            “Do you need help, sir?” a store attendant asked as she stepped into the aisle. She grinned at Harry, who smiled back at her with his near-toothless grin.

            “Yes, actually,” Severus said. “I am babysitting my friend’s son while they are on a business trip, but they realized a bit belatedly that they forgot to leave me with formula. They told me I could find it at the store, but I’m afraid I’m not sure which one he was on.”

            “Oh dear,” the lady, whose name tag said Willow, cooed at Harry, who giggled at her. “Do you know if he has any allergies or sensitivities?”

            “No, he’s fairly healthy.” Severus said, frowning at Harry. “I think he was on a regular brand.”

            “Ah, you must want Aptamil,” Willow said, moving down the aisle and grabbing the formula in question. She handed it to Severus. “Here you go. Your friend’s kid is really cute, by the way. Peek-a-boo!”

            Willow played a few seconds of peek-a-boo with Harry, who was giving off all sorts of cute factors as he acted surprised with each game and laughed excitedly. Severus resisted rolling his eyes while he waited for Willow to cease the obnoxious game.

            “What’s his name?” Willow asked, smiling at Harry.

            Severus smirked evilly.

            “Bartholomew.”

            “Huh?” Harry looked up at his father with a rather disgusted face.

            “Oh,” Willow said with a small frown.

            “But we call him Bartie for short,” Severus said. He looked down at Harry and said in a baby voice, “Don’t we, Bartie?”

            Harry glared at his father, who continued to smirk at him.

            “Bartie is kinda cute,” Willow said. She cooed at Harry again. “Little Bartie, you are a handsome man.”

            Harry laughed at Willow once more, kicking Severus’s chest a bit roughly.

            “Well, it was nice meeting you, Bartie,” Willow said. She nodded at Severus. “You as well, sir. Just call for me if you need anything else.”

            “Thank you,” Severus said with a small nod of his head. He turned away with Harry, grabbing a couple jars of baby food on his way out of the aisle, and once they were out of hearing distance, he whispered. “You are such a faker. I expect that much enthusiasm when I get your formula ready.”

            Harry made a face once more.

            Check out went smoothly, with no more than an “aww,” sent Harry’s way, and Severus made his escape from the store and marched back to his house without running into any familiar faces. He undid the small illusion on Harry and allowed the baby to crawl around the kitchen while he worked on making a bottle for Harry, along with an easy dinner of fish and chips for himself. Once dinner was ready, Severus set a plate down at the table for himself before lifting Harry to the highchair and setting a baby bottle down on the small table along with a spoon and baby jar. Severus began eating his own food while watching Harry.

            Harry sniffed the mustard yellow mush in the baby jar, then used the spoon to push the jar away from him, his nose scrunching up in distaste.

            “That’s your dinner tonight,” Severus told him. “It’s already pureed for you and should be easy on your stomach. Try it.”

            “Uck,” Harry managed to say.

            “It is not,” Severus said. He picked up Harry’s spoon and scooped up some of the baby food and held the spoon out to Harry, who leaned back in his seat, keeping his head away from the spoon. “Try it, you may like it. It’s chicken and vegetables, practically a full meal.”

            Harry turned his head away as Severus jammed the spoon closer to his mouth. He whined in protest, refusing to open his mouth in case Severus tried shoving the food in. Severus growled under his breath impatiently.

            “If I try it first to show you it’s not bad, will you eat it then?”

            Harry pouted and crossed his arms, watching Severus expectantly.

            Severus sighed and ate the baby food.

            Whatever flavor he had been expecting, it was not the grainy, watered-down day old gravy mush that coated his tongue, and Severus choked slightly and turned away from Harry, fighting the nausea that made him want to upchuck the few small bites of fish and chips he had taken, and he swallowed repeatedly as he slowly forced the food down.

            Harry burst out laughing, and Severus couldn’t even snap at him to shut up as he continued to work on swallowing the disgusting goo in his mouth.

            Finally, he managed to get rid of the food and he chugged his glass of water to wash away any remnants of the baby food before he glared at Harry, who was still giggling at him.

            “Alright, you get a free pass on that one. That was horrendous. How about some fish and chips? I’ll have to blend it down for you, but I think there’s a spell for that.”

            Harry nodded his head while he picked up the baby bottle and tried a sip. He must have liked it as he kept drinking the formula.

            “At least you approve of one thing,” Severus said, “though that may be baby instincts kicking in.”

            Severus took a small potion of his meal and placed it in a bowl, then used his wand to mash up the food magically, a spell sometimes used for prepping ingredients in a hurry. Not ideal but served its purpose in an emergency. For food preparation, the spell would work just fine. Once the food was mashed, Severus delivered the bowl to Harry, who set the bottle down and went back and forth between the mashed chips and the mashed fish, taking as big of a bite as he could with each scoop, making a mess of himself once more.

            Severus smiled at his son before resuming his own meal.

            After yet another nappy change and dressing Harry in a blue onesie, Severus checked on the potion one last time, making sure there was no problems with the simmering process. Harry crawled after him, sitting at his father’s feet curiously while Severus analyzed the potion. The color and consistency were right, however, and Severus looked down at Harry.

            “It needs to simmer the night,” Severus said. “Tomorrow morning, after a good night of sleep and a good meal, you will be able to take the potion. I will give you a sleeping draught so you can sleep through the aging process. It won’t hurt any more than growing pains, but I’m sure sleeping through it all will make for a far more pleasant experience. It may take a few hours, but after, I will check you over and make sure you are in god health before agreeing to let you go to the Weasley’s the following day. Sound like a god gameplan?”

            “Ah!” Harry agreed, holding his hands up to Severus.

            Severus picked up his son and carried him out of the lab.

            “Good. Then let’s do something quiet to settle you in for a good night of sleep. I read babies need ten to twelve hours of sleep each night, so we better get you resting.”

            Harry made a face at that, but did not protest as Severus carried him to his bedroom.

            Severus set Harry down in the crib he had moved out of the lab, then shuffled through the books on Harry’s shelf. He pulled down The Tales of Beedle the Bard and flipped through the pages.

            “I don’t think I ever told you this,” Severus said as he sat down on Harry’s bed, Harry watching him curiously. “But one of my favorite stories in this book was The Wizard and the Hopping Pot.”

            Harry squealed in giggles and Severus chuckled himself.

            “I suppose you are probably not surprised. I’ll read the story to you, but you have to fall asleep when I’m done.”

            Harry babbled but made no promises of obeying. Halfway through the story though, Severus looked over at Harry, and noticed his son was sleeping, and he smiled at the angelic face, knowing such a look only existed when Harry was fast asleep. He wondered for a moment how things might have turned out if he had pursued taking Harry in when he was still a toddler, but he reminded himself of what-ifs and living in the present, and he kissed Harry’s temple before stepping out of the room, flicking the light off as he closed the door until it was only slightly ajar.

Chapter Text

            A baby’s wailing echoed through the silent house in the middle of the night, disturbing Severus from his light sleep. It felt like he had just crawled into bed and closed his eyes, and sleep had only had a hold of him for a couple minutes when he heard Harry crying in the room next to his.

            Dutifully, Severus forced himself out of the bed and walked over to Harry’s room. Harry was standing up in his crib as his cries pierced through the air, causing a ringing in Severus’s own ears that he winced at.

            “That’s enough, Harry,” Severus said as he picked up his son. “I’m here now, you can cease the noise.”

            However, Harry did not stop crying, though he seemed to be trying to make an effort as he rubbed his eyes and closed his mouth now and then, only for his lips to quiver back open and for loud sobs to break through. Severus rocked Harry as he patted his bottom, wondering if a diaper change was warranted. He ended up changing Harry’s diaper but that did not put an end to the tears. He offered milk, but Harry refused the bottle even as Severus jammed it into his mouth repeatedly in hopes he may try drinking it and calming down. The pacifier was spat out, teething gel didn’t seem to help, and Harry had no fever.

            Nearly an hour passed of Severus offering many things to Harry in an attempt to figure out what had the baby crying, but nothing was working. He sat down on his own bed still holding Harry and rubbed his temple achingly as a pounding headache was starting to develop.

            “Please, Harry, calm down,” Severus said miserably. “You’re giving me a migraine.”

            Harry bit at his lip repeatedly as if trying to stop himself, but small sobs still escaped.

            “Oh, I am so glad I did not have you as a baby,” Severus muttered.

            Harry’s lip quivered with renewed energy, and he started openly sobbing once more, a harrowing cry that gutted Severus.

            “No, Harry, I didn’t mean it like that,” Severus said before he groaned loudly and sat back against his headboard, holding the baby in his lap as he miserably watched Harry cry once more. After a few minutes, something seemed to catch Harry’s eye, and his crying turned into sniffles as he stared at whatever it was. Severus followed Harry’s gaze to his bare left arm.

            The Dark Mark, or at least what was visible of it in its dull, scarred form. After the Dark Lord’s disappearance, the mark had faded to just a barely visible scar, but if you looked closely enough at it, you could make out the edges of the skull and see the snake protruding from its mouth. Severus did not often wear sleeveless shirts except for bed, at which time Harry usually had his glasses off anyway, so he did not often have a chance to see it. Baby Harry clearly had no need for glasses yet, and he was staring at the mark with a morbid fascination.

            Harry slowly leaned forward, his hands gently touching his father’s arm, his fingertips tracing the scar. Severus kept his hands on Harry’s hips, supporting his son on his lap while he inquisitively explored the one thing Severus felt pure loathing for, and Severus did not move his eyes from Harry’s face, refusing to look at the mark that reminded him of the biggest mistakes he had ever made, one of which, cost his son two very loving parents.

            Suddenly, Harry pulled away as if burned and he looked at his father with watery eyes.

            “. . .’ary,” he tried to say.

            Severus frowned at him, unsure if Harry was trying to say his name or a word. Harry saw the confusion, then he touched the Dark Mark once more.

            “Ssss . . . ary,” Harry tried again.

            “Scary,” Severus managed to gather.

            Harry lips quivered and he sniffled once more, on the verge of sobbing again. Severus tilted his head as he realized what may have been bothering Harry this whole time.

            “Did you have a bad dream, Harry?”

            Harry managed a single nod.

            “You wouldn’t be able to tell me what it was about, would you?”

            Harry’s hand was still on the Dark Mark, and he slowly brought his other hand up to the scar on his forehead. Severus recalled what Harry had told him about the Dementors and the things he heard when he was around them. Harry must have had a nightmare about the same events: his parents dying and the monster giving him the scar he became famous for. Severus sighed as he brought his son to his chest, allowing Harry to lie against him. Harry stuck his thumb into his mouth as he listened to Severus’s steady heartbeat.

            “Have you been having nightmares like that?” Severus asked, wondering how many nights Harry simply forced himself to fall back to sleep.

            Harry didn’t say anything, and Severus was forced to draw his own conclusions. He knew Harry occasionally had other nightmares surrounding the Dursleys that would wake him and he would go searching for a glass of water at one in the morning, but he never really opened up about the dreams. As a baby, clearly the emotional regulation was no longer there, and Harry had no choice but to express how he really felt about some of his traumas. Severus made a vow that the next time he caught Harry out of bed, he would try to get his son to open up a bit more about what had awoken him. He didn’t want night terrors or even nightmares to be a regular occurrence for his son when there were so many solutions to help minimize them.

            As the minutes passed, Harry seemed to relax against him, his eyes closing, and Severus absently rubbed his son’s back as he murmured to him.

            “You should be back to normal tomorrow afternoon,” Severus said. “I have to complete the antidote to add to the deaging potion, but once you take it, you’ll be good as new in a few hours. I’m sure that will be a relief to you, hmm?”

            Harry blinked lazily up at his father, and Severus snorted softly.

            “It’ll be a relief for me,” he said. “No offence, but you are exhausting at this age. Can’t do a bloody thing for yourself. I’ll never understand why anyone would want more than one baby in their lifetime.”

            Harry continued to suck on his thumb, and Severus gently pulled the small digit free from Harry’s mouth. He kicked the blanket away before gently placing Harry on his back next to him, then rolled on to his side next to Harry, propping himself up with an arm under his head. He gently massaged Harry’s stomach, recalling in a book he had read how soothing that could be for babies, and he moved his hand in a clockwise circle, and Harry yawned before blinking eyes of adoration at Severus.

            Despite the mark, despite all he had done in his past, despite his mistreatment of Harry in the very beginning of his son’s first year, Harry was still capable of loving him, and he didn’t need words to tell Severus that. He could see it in the way his son stared up at him, firing cheeky remark after cheeky remark at him. Severus planted a kiss on Harry’s temple, then whispered, “I love you, Harry.”

            “Wub you, Dada,” Harry managed to whisper back before he fell asleep.

            Severus watched Harry sleep for several minutes, not feeling the slightest bit tired as he waited to see if Harry would sleep well or not. It wasn’t until he heard a small, discontented moan did he touch a single finger to the center of Harry’s forehead.

            “Lege somnia,” he whispered, closing his eyes.

            He was pulled into Harry’s mind, in a very similar manner to Legilimency, and he found himself watching as a flash of green light filled his vision while a woman screamed “Not my Harry! No!”

            He recognized that voice from his own haunted dreams, and he felt an ache in his chest at hearing Lily crying for mercy on her baby, and he hated the role he had in her demise. He could sense Harry whining, and he pulled forward a different memory in Harry’s subconcious, one buried so deep, only the best Legilimens would be able to bring such a memory forward.

            It was a memory of Harry as a baby being rocked in his mother’s arms as she sung a lullaby to him. She was sitting in a rocking chair, and it made no sound as it effortlessly teetered back and forth in rhythm with the lullaby, and a warm fire burned bright in the fireplace across from them. Harry was swaddled in a crocheted blanket; one Severus was sure Lily had made herself. Another thick blanket covered Lily, and she gazed lovingly at her son as he blinked up at her sleepily.

            Harry stirred the slightest next to him, and Severus heard a small sigh emit from the baby, and he smiled as he watched Lily continue to sing in a soft voice, taking his time to enjoy the memory as much as Harry was.

            When the memory appeared to loop, Severus carefully sifted through Harry’s memories, looking for another one to bring forth, and he found a more recent one of Harry flying on the Quidditch Pitch at Hogwarts. He pulled it forward and nearly jumped back as Harry zoomed by on his broom, corkscrewing as he grazed the grass beneath him. Severus gave Harry an amused look as he watched him shoot up into the sky, knowing that if he had seen such a daredevil move in person, he likely would have spanked the brat with his own broomstick for scaring the living daylights out of him.

            Knowing that continuing to watch Harry fly would most likely lead to his own heart attack (as much as Harry was sure to enjoy the dream), Severus searched for another memory he could tolerate observing for longer than a few minutes. He found one of Harry with his friends sitting down at a café in Diagon Alley after a long day of shopping for their second year supplies. They each had an ice cream cone and were laughing at jokes they shared together. Harry’s ice cream was melting quickly, and some of it dripped down his chin and onto his shirt, earning more laughter from his friends as he futilely tried using a napkin to clean up his face and shirt. Hermione came to the rescue as she waved his wand and cast a cleansing spell over his shirt, vanishing the mess. Harry shrugged at his forgetfulness to try a spell.

            While his friends shared more stories with each other, Severus recalled a day he had shared with his son, and he strolled through Harry’s mind carefully in search of that memory.

            Severus had been playing around with a whittling knife one day while waiting on a potion to finish brewing, carving out a rook for a nonexistent chessboard. Harry had returned home from visiting the library and had taken a great deal of interest in what he was doing, and he had asked to learn how to carve out chess pieces like that. Severus had forgotten all about his potion in favor of teaching Harry how to carve his own rook, and while he had lost the potion, it was one of his favorite moments he had with Harry.

            They were sitting in the potions lab at an empty table, save for all the slivers of wood pieces around them. Harry had picked up on the technique of carving out the basic shape of the rook, copying Severus’s movements with his own whittling knife. He struggled with the finer details though, and he scooted along the bench to sit closer to Severus, holding up the small wood piece that was starting to resemble a rook.

            Severus set aside his own rook that he was sanding down. He guided Harry’s hands through the correct cutting techniques he needed to etch out the smaller details. Harry pulled his hands free when he was ready to try it on his own and he grinned as he managed to complete some of the details himself despite the choppy motions.

            Severus sat across from his memory self and watched proudly as Harry dutifully finished carving out the rook, biting his lip now and then and glancing up at memory Severus for affirmation every few minutes. Finally, he had a decent rook for a first-time whittler, and Harry proudly held it up for memory Severus to admire.

            “Very good, Harry,” Severus said. “Not bad for a first timer.”

            “Thanks, Dad.”

            “Are you ready to make the rest of the pieces now?” Severus asked with a smirk. “There’s a whole chess board, you know. Thirty-two pieces.”

            Harry hesitated, his smile dropping for a moment, before he grinned and said, “Only if you make half of them.”

            “I think that’s fair. Why don’t you get started on a pawn?”

            “You’ll show me how?” Harry asked.

            “I’ll make one as well. You can copy me.”

            Severus glanced over at the abandoned cauldron his memory self was ignoring, a soft smile on his face as he watched the simmering concoction turn into black sludge, but glancing back at Harry, he knew it had been worth the small sacrifice as his memory self and Harry worked together to create their own chess pieces.

            Severus heard a small distant coo, and he pulled out of Harry’s memories and opened his eyes. Baby Harry’s face was relaxed, and a small trace of a smile graced his lips. Severus smiled at his son as he returned to massaging Harry’s stomach, earning another content sound from the baby. Severus closed his eyes, falling asleep easily now that he knew his son was having sweet dreams.

            The next morning, Harry was changed and fed with yogurt, fruit, and another bottle while Severus worked on finishing the potion. He siphoned off the serum from the blood vial he had collected from Harry and spun down with a small pipette, adding it to a small cauldron that boiled away with a sludge of newt spleens, stewed mandrake and other repulsive things Harry really didn’t want to have to drink, but would do so anyway for the greater good.

            Severus saw the face Hary was making at the cauldrons and smirked.

            “I know you’ll be a good boy and give me no trouble drinking your potion unlike you did with the baby food, isn’t that right, son?”

            Harry scrunched his nose at his father as he shoved a spoonful of yogurt into his mouth.

            Once the potions were complete, Severus combined the antidote to the Hellebore Ebber’s neurotoxin to the reaging potion that had finally completed simmering. The potion emitted a large billow of green smoke, startling Harry, then it began to boil once more as Severus turned up the heat.

            “In thirty minutes,” Severus said, as he lifted Harry out of the highchair he had sitting in the back corner of his lab, “your potion will be ready for consumption. You will nap through mos of it as I will give you a sleeping draught, but once you are awake and back to your correct age, I want you to shower and pack for your trip with the Weasleys tomorrow.”

            Harry clapped his hands happily.

            Castiel flew into the room with a rolled bit of parchment, and Severus adjusted Harry on his hip and accepted the letter, unscrolling it with one hand while Harry tried to pet Castiel, who dodged the wacking hand and flew off to his bird stand. Harry pouted, then stared at the letter his father was reading.

            “Looks like we managed to avoid a crisis,” Severus said. “The potioneer who picked up the flowers was grateful for our letter explaining what happens if the plant sprays you with pollen, and he is taking several precautions while he works with them. Looks like some good came out of your curiosity, wouldn’t you say?”

            Harry rolled his eyes as he babbled, earning a snort from Severus.

            Finally, when the potion had finished boiling after the required thirty minutes, Severus used a cooling charm to bring the temperature down before filling a baby bottle with the necessary dose. He picked up Harry from where the baby was amusing himself with crayons and parchment on the floor, then sat down in his armchair and leaned Harry back to offer the bottle. Harry hesitated at first, making a face at the green slop in the bottle, but at Severus’s insistence, he bravely opened his mouth and began drinking the potion, though his face did turn a bit green halfway through.

            “Here,” Severus said, pulling the bottle away and summoning an anti-nauseau potion from his supply. He gave Harry a few drops and waited a couple minutes for the potion to take effect, and Harry began to look less like he wanted to upchuck.

            “Uck,” Harry said, glaring at the bottle.

            “Yes, but you’re only halfway through.” Severus repositioned the bottle and Harry gulped before accepting the nipple and drinking the rest of it as quickly as he could.

            After that horrid task was complete, Severus summoned a vial of sleeping draught, and he measured out a dose that would surely keep Harry asleep through the entirety of the transformation. He knew this one had a reversal he could use when the process was complete, which was why he chose that particular draught. Harry accepted the hefty tablespoon of the smooth liquid, though the taste was still sour, and his face scrunched up in dislike.

            “I promise that’s the last potion you need,” Severus said, biting back his amusement as his son smacked his lips repeatedly.

            “No more,” Harry said in agreement.

            Severus laid his son down in his bedroom, pulling the blankets away and closing the curtains to keep the room dark. He removed Harry’s onesie and diaper, leaving the baby blushing.

            “You’ve nothing I haven’t seen before,” Severus said with an eye roll. “Besides, you do not want to try to grow back to a fourteen-year-old wearing a diaper. That would be . . . quite uncomfortable.”

            Harry’s blush deepened as he glared at his father. Severus smiled down at him though, unfazed by his son’s looks.

            “Go to sleep, Harry. You should be feeling the sleeping draught any second now.”

            Harry began blinking repeated as he fought a big yawn, then he slowly closed his eyes and his chest began rising and falling evenly. Severus stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him and set a timer for three hours, though he planned to check in on Harry every fifteen minutes or so to make sure everything was progressing normally.

            It was strange walking into his son’s room and seeing his child at a different stage of childhood each time. First, after only twenty minutes, the baby had doubled in size to that of a toddler. Then, fifteen minutes after that, he would estimate that Harry was about the size of a five-year-old. And in fifteen more minutes, it appeared he aged by two years. At this rate, Harry would be fourteen again by three hours exactly, and he would be able to give him the reversal agent for the sleeping draught then as well. And he would take another blood sample from his son to make sure the toxins were completely gone from his system. It would be no good if they had gone through all this trouble just to have Harry shrink back down to a baby again.

            After the required three hours, Severus checked on his son and was pleased to see him restored to his correct age, which a spell confirmed for him. He covered his son with a blanket so he would wake up with some modesty, then he applied three drops of the reversal potion to wake him up. He stepped out of the room and closed the door just as Harry was starting to stir.

            Thirty minutes later, Harry ran out of his bedroom showered and changed into fresh clothes. Severus was sitting at the dining table writing a letter to the potioneer in hopes of remaining in touch through the man’s studies of the Hellebore Ebbers when Harry threw his arms around his neck.

            “It worked, Dad!” Harry said. “I’m back to normal.”

            “So I see,” Severus said, reaching back and pulling his son around to check him over. “How are you feeling? Headaches? Nausea? Any pains?”

            Severus touched a palm to Harry’s forehead before peering into his eyes.

            “No, I feel great,” Harry insisted. “That was a pretty trippy experience though.”  

            “Let me see your arm,” Severus said, and when Harry outstretched an arm, Severus released another small vial that latched onto Harry’s arm and stuck him with a needle, quickly collecting a small tube full of blood.  

            “Hey!” Harry jumped at the sudden prick, then glared at his father. “Ow.”

            “Oh please, you were less dramatic as a baby,” Severus said as he caught the vial when it hovered away. He touched his wand to Harry’s arm to heal the small needle prick, then he poured the blood into another blue vial. He corked it and gave the vial a vigorous shake before setting it down. The liquid inside turned green, and Severus nodded with approval.

            “Congratulations,” he said, “you are clear of that plant’s toxins.”

            “Good riddance,” Harry said. He rubbed his arm absently as he added, “Sorry I kind of ruined your experiment thing. I didn’t think a plant could do something like that.”

            “Nor did I,” Severus said as he returned to writing his letter. “But it was nothing I couldn’t fix.”

“Of course not,” Harry agreed with a cheeky smile. “That would look poorly on the world’s youngest potions master.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be packing?”

“Oh, right! Hey, did you talk to the Weasleys to see if Giovanna could maybe come?”

“All taken care of.” Severus summoned the ticket Lucius had given him. “I secured this or your friend, but you have to floo call her now and let her know so she can ask her parents’ permission and prepare as well.”

            “How did you get a ticket?” Harry asked as he accepted the slip of paper.

            “I have my ways,” Severus said cryptically. “Now go call your girlfriend.”

            “She’s not my girlfriend—stop saying that!”

            “My apologies,” Severus said with a chuckle. “Do not forget my rules for when—”

            “For staying with the Weasleys,” Harry interrupted. “Mind Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, stay with them at all times, do as they say, no misbehavior, blah, blah, blah.”

            “Smart mouth,” Severus said. “I think I liked you better as a baby. You certainly didn’t have this level of cheek.”

            “You love me too much for me to go back to being a baby,” Harry corrected smugly. “Cheek and all.”

            “Indeed, I do,” Severus said, unable to keep the fondness out of his voice.   

Chapter Text

Without Harry in the house, it was awfully quiet, which at one time, Severus greatly appreciated the long silence the summers usually brought for him. Ever since he had taken in Harry however, each summer was usually filled with the child’s mindless chatter and small talk, of which Severus had come to look forward to each day. A small thing he had missed now since Harry had left for the World Quidditch Match a few days prior. At least this strange silence would be over soon as he was expecting his son home any minute.

            Severus made himself a small breakfast consisting of simple cereal and hot tea. Castiel and Hedwig pecked at the kitchen window, asking to come inside, and Severus used his wand to allow the birds to fly inside. Hedwig flew to Harry’s bedroom, most likely headed for her perch, while Castiel flew to Severus with the Daily Prophet in his talons.

            Summoning an owl treat from his cupboard, he offered it to Castiel, who gladly accepted the treat before flying off to his own perch, leaving the Daily Prophet rolled up next to Severus’s teacup. With a quick tug on the string, Severus allowed the paper to unroll itself while he took a sip of his tea, then nearly spluttered the liquid everywhere as his eyes widened at the sight of the headline.

            Scenes of Terror at the Quidditch World Cup

            Severus shoved everything aside as he began reading over the paper. There was a moving photo in the center that sent chills down Severus’s back: the Dark Mark in a greenish cloud hovered above burning tents in the sky, the green serpent swirling around the skull before slithering through the slowly opening mouth of the skull. Who on earth cast that charm into the sky? And why?

            The paper explained very little to Severus, as was typical of the journalism of Rita Skeeter, who much preferred her scandalmongering over authenticity. She questioned the actions of the Ministry of Magic during and after the attack, claiming that they could have handled security better, especially considering the rumors of bodies being removed from the campsite’s forest.

            “If the terrified wizards and witches who waited breathlessly for news at the edge of the wood expected reassurance from the Ministry of Magic, they were sadly disappointed. A Ministry official emerged some time after the appearance of the Dark Mark alleging that nobody had been hurt but refusing to give any more information. Whether this statement will be enough to quash the rumors that several bodies were removed from the woods an hour later remains to be seen.”

            Bile rose in his throat as his eyes blurred, the paper becoming distorted for a moment as his own imagination brought up every worst-case scenario. Had Harry been hurt during this? Why on earth did the old Death Eater members decide to cause havoc and panic at the World Cup? Clearly no one had been expecting the Dark Mark’s appearance if they all took off shortly after, if Rita Skeeter’s words were to be believed. He had to keep reminding himself that this reporter was prone to exaggeration, and perhaps things had not played out as they had been written. Surely there would be more reports of casualties from other press if there really had been any. Harry had to be okay, was probably on his way home at this very moment.

            Before Severus could work himself into a panic, the floo flared in his living room, and he was on his feet in an instant, walking over to the fireplace where Harry, Giovanna, and Sirius Black were stepping out of the green flames. He couldn’t help the sigh of relief as he pulled Harry into a strong embrace.

            “Are you alright?” Severus whispered to him.

            “I’m fine,” Harry said. “Did you hear about what happened?”

            “Recently so,” Severus answered, his eyes meeting Black’s. “Though I expect to hear more about it.”

            He pulled away from Harry to look over Giovanna, recalling that the paper had stated the Death Eaters had targeted muggles and muggleborns.

            “Are you alright, Miss Bassani?” Severus asked.

            “I’m alright,” Giovanna said as she absently brushed away any remaining soot from her jacket and jeans. “We managed to get to the woods without too much trouble, so no one cursed me or anything like that, if that’s what you’re thinking. I mean no disrespect, sir, but that Malfoy was a real git about the whole situation when we ran into him. Told me to my face that I’d better be careful and make a run for it lest they catch up to me. He’s lucky Hermione held me back from cursing his tongue into a knot.”

            “I applaud you for not using your magic outside of school or dueling with another student, as deserving of any curse they might be.” Severus gave Giovanna an amused look before he gestured to his sofa. “Have a seat for a moment. I’ll apparate you home after I’ve spoken with Black.”

            Giovanna nodded and headed for the sofa while Severus turned his attention to Black and Harry, and he managed to catch a bit of their whispered conversation.

            “Just give it to me, he doesn’t need to know,” Harry mumbled lowly, holding his hand out for something.

            “If he doesn’t hear from me, he’ll find out from someone else soon enough,” Black said.

            “It’s already sorted out though,” Harry said with a groan.

            “That doesn’t mean it won’t be brought up again.”

            Severus cleared his throat, catching Harry’s and Black’s attention.

            “Am I interrupting something?” Severus asked.

            “Kind of,” Harry said, crossing his arms.

            “Oh, my apologies,” Severus said, holding his hands up and taking a step back. “Please, continue your riveting discussion. I’m sure whatever very important debate you’re having is absolutely vital. Carry on.”

            “Dad,” Harry said, giving his father an exasperated look. “It’s nothing important.”

            “Nothing important?” Severus quirked a brow. “I see. Then you should have no problem going to your room and contemplating the truly important things in life, like the proper way to fold a fitted sheet. Off you go.”

            Harry rolled his eyes and headed for his room. Black snorted softly at that, then waited until Harry closed his bedroom door before pulling out a wand—one that Severus recognized as Harry’s wand.

            “Why do you have that?” Severus asked, accepting the wand from black.

            “Thought you’d like to know,” Black began, “that Harry’s wand ended up . . . err, well, missing during the chaos of the attack last night. It was used to cast Morsmordre in the sky.”

            “It was what?” Severus snapped. “You’re joking?”

            “See for yourself.”

            Severus quickly ran his own wand over Harry’s, checking the wand’s last spell cast, and he frowned as his wand confirmed that morsmordre was the last thing cast.

            “Apparently, all they know is that a house elf belonging to the Crouch family cast it,” Black said. “She was found at the scene of the incident with Harry’s wand in her possession. I don’t know how much of that I believe, but the case is resolved as far as the Ministry is concerned. Everyone is more than happy to put this whole absurdity behind us.”

            “I can imagine,” Severus muttered. “How on earth did Harry “lose” this? He should have his wand on him at all times, especially in such a dangerous position.”

            “I’m not disagreeing but there was a lot of chaos last night. Harry could have dropped it in his hurry to get away or . . . I don’t know, but it’s over with. I’m sure he’s learned a lesson on keeping a better eye on it after this.”

            “Indeed. What in Merlin’s name happened last night exactly?”

            “It’s still a bit unclear, but from what Arthur told me, the lot of them—Death Eaters—they were drunk and simply terrorizing the crowd and sparking riots. This wasn’t a coordinated attack, and whoever cast the Dark Mark into the sky—the elf or some other third party, that was clearly too much for the other Death Eaters. They all fled as soon as they saw it in the sky.”

            Severus recalled what Lucius had told him when he waved around the extra World Cup ticket in his face, how he had invited many old acquaintances and friends and was expecting to have drinks afterward. Drunken folly certainly made more sense in his head for the entire attack over some display of power or distraction for a greater plot on the Dark Lord’s end. He let out a relieved sigh, his eyes briefly glancing down at his left arm, as if confirming that it was not any darker than it had ever been before.

            After brief exchanges of farewell, Severus waited for Black to floo away before he apparated Giovanna to her house, greeting her parents and quickly dismissing himself to get back to his son. As he walked through his house toward Harry’s room, he studied Harry’s wand, turning it every which way as he stared down at the intricate designs carved into the smooth wood. He knocked on Harry’s door before pausing once more to turn the wand over in his hands.

            Harry opened the door and folded his arms once more.

            “Yeah?” Harry mumbled, eyeing his wand in Severus’s hands.

            “Just a friendly reminder,” Severus said with a sarcastic smile, “that your wand is not an optional accessory.”

            “I know that.” Harry reached for his wand but when Severus jerked it out of his reach, he huffed. “I didn’t mean to lose it. I didn’t even realize that I had when I went to check for it.”

            “Which is far worse than intentionally leaving it someplace. Imagine if you had lost it because someone had intentionally stolen it from you as a means to disarm you before attacking?”

            “Which wasn’t the case, obviously.”

            “And if it had been, you’d be dead right now, young man. Watch your lip.”

            “Nothing bad happened and I got it back.”

            “Nothing bad? Do you think casting the Dark Mark into the sky is no more serious than a simple tickling jinx? Dark magic flowing through any wand can alter how it functions in the future, and feed it enough, its loyalty may even be swayed. Not to mention that not only was someone using your wand to cast a dark spell, you were completely defenseless during a riot! What were you to do if one of those attackers had caught up to you and your friends, two of which were muggleborns?”

            “I would have figured something out. But none of that happened. We managed to get to safety and I got my wand back. It’s been fine.”

            “I don’t think I’m impressing upon you the seriousness of what you did.”

            “No, I get it. I should keep a better eye on my wand. I’ll try not to lose it again.”

“Try? You will not lose it again. There is no try.” Severus held the wand up. “Losing this could mean life or death. Do not let this leave your sight again. It should be the first thing you check for when you wake and the last thing you account for when you go to bed. I do not ever want to hear that you’ve somehow lost it in such a careless manner again.”

            Harry bit his lip as he glared at the floor for a moment before he looked up at Severus again, meeting his eyes directly.

            “Yeah? And what would a non-careless manner be?”

            Severus’s eyes darkened considerably, and whether it was the tone in Harry’s voice mixed with the fear of what could have happened last night or something else was unclear, but Severus knew full well what Death Eaters were capable of; what he had once been willing to do, and that fear squeezed at Severus’s heart. But fear often revealed itself in another emotion, and Harry’s confrontational attitude agitated something within him, and he pointed the wand at Harry.

Suddenly, Harry felt his arms and legs snap together while he simultaneously began to float, his toes hovering an inch above the ground. Harry struggled futilely in the restricting hold, wincing as an unseen force continued to tighten around him.

            “A non-careless manner would involve an attacker catching you off-guard in a death grip curse, where you find yourself unable to even reach for your wand.”

            “Or I know,” Severus said, twirling Harry’s wand, which flipped Harry upside down and stuck his feet to the ceiling. “How about a little disorientation? I could imagine such an attack might surprise you enough to make you drop your wand.”

Before Harry could open his mouth, Severus flicked the wand the slightest, and Harry could only suck in a sharp inhale as he suddenly dropped to the ground, and he groaned as he hit the floor heavily, his ribs taking the brunt of impact. But then, his body felt like it weighed three times more than it usually did, and he struggled to even lift his head up to watch his father slowly approach him.

            “Gravity Charm,” Severus snarled. “Simple, but effective at pinning down someone and making every little move feel next to impossible to complete, giving anyone a chance to take your wand from you.”

            “Dad,” Harry tried to say, but due to the gravity charm, it came out sluggish and mumbled.

            “You know,” Severus said in an almost thoughtful way, “breathing is often taken for granted, why don’t we just take that away?”

            The gravity charm vanished, and Harry was able to push himself up slightly but then he gasped sharply as his chest tightened, almost as if it was being squeezed once more by the death grip curse. His lungs felt locked in place, refusing to take in or let out any air, and Harry felt a slight dizziness come over him while his eyes widened at his inability to breathe. He lifted a hand to his chest as if he might be able to compress it enough to force some kind of restart, but thankfully everything relaxed, and he sucked in a breath. Panic began rising within him as he crawled back a bit as Severus advanced on him slowly.

            “Unforgivables?” Severus continued, Harry’s wand still pointed at Harry’s chest. “Just imagine being pinned down, helpless, wandless, as they repeatedly send searing pain up and down your spine, igniting every nerve, every bloody torturous sensation over and over until you’re begging for a death that never comes.”  

            Every move he made as he crawled away from Severus sent a sharp shock of pain through his body, like every nerve was on fire, burning up his spine, and Harry hissed at the sensation. He was glad when the pain ended abruptly, though his breath hitched in his throat as the back of his head touched his cold bed frame, and he put up a hand toward his father.

            “Dad,” Harry pleaded, “Dad, please, stop!”

            “A non-careless manner would involve me taking your wand from you. Permanently.”

            Harry leaned back against his bedframe as Severus pointed the wand at Harry’s chest.

            Standing directly in front of his son now, Severus kneeled in front of him, using the tip of the wand to lift Harry’s chin the slightest till he met his son’s eyes, spotting a flicker of fear in the green eyes hiding behind the round spectacles.

            “You have no idea what someone is capable of,” Severus growled through his teeth. He leaned closer to Harry as he snarled, “You have no idea what Death Eaters are capable of, what they would love to do to you if they were ever given the chance. The pain they would love to cause you. The slow death you would suffer. A non-careless manner, Harry, would involve not losing your wand in the first place. It would involve vigilance, focus, and a respect for the power it holds; respect for the protection it offers.”   

            “Okay,” Harry said in a shaky breath. “I understand.”

            Severus applied pressure to the wand, forcing Harry to tilt his head up a bit higher.

            “I don’t think you do,” Severus said.

            “No, no, I do! Dad, I understand. I’m sorry.”

            Severus stared intently into Harry’s eyes for a silent minute, then he pulled the wand back slightly, and with a quick flick of his fingers, he flipped the wand around, so the handle pointed at Harry.

            “Keep this on you at all times,” Severus said.

            Harry nodded and slowly took his wand back from Severus, startling slightly when Severus shot up to his feet and stormed out of the bedroom, shutting the door a bit forcefully behind him.

            Severus leaned against the wall opposite Harry’s bedroom door, his hand flying to his chest as if to physically contain the panic rising within him. What the hell did he just do? His breath came in ragged gasps, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. He could feel the blood draining from his face, leaving him lightheaded and nauseous. Harry’s mistake had triggered something in Severus, something dark and volatile that had risen to the surface with terrifying speed. Something hauntingly familiar.

            Pushing off the wall, he stumbled towards the living room, collapsing onto the sofa. He squeezed his eyes shut, but the darkness behind his lids was no escape. The images came unbidden, flashing like cruel snapshots: the jeering faces of his fellow Death Eaters, the sickening green flash of the Killing Curse, the screams of victims set under the Cruciatus. And then he saw another face—his father, eyes blazing with fury, lips twisted in a sneer.

            “Such a failure,” Tobias spat. “You’re a real foul-up, Severus, you’ll never amount to anything.”

            The tongue lashings his father gave him were always followed by beatings.

            Not unlike the tongue lashing he had just given Harry. And then he turned his son’s own wand against him. A beating—not unlike what his father would do to him—and if his father had been capable of magic, well, Severus didn’t want to consider how similar events may have unfolded. He squeezed his eyes shut again, harder this time, trying to push the memories back into the dark recesses of his mind where they belonged, trying to occlude it all away, but they would not stay down. They swirled around him, taunting him, reminding him of what he had done, what he was capable of. He covered his face with his hands, pushing his fingers against his temples harshly, trying to ease his mind with painful acupressure, but all he was left with was the memory of Harry on the floor, staring up at him with those bright, terrified eyes.

            Had he really attacked his own son? He had not meant to get so carried away, he had only meant to really instill in Harry why keeping his wand close was so important.

            His stomach was in knots, and he leaned forward, sitting with his elbows on his knees, his face buried in his hands as waves of guilt and regret flooded him. He’d sworn he’d never be like his father, would never inflict that kind of pain on his own child. He’d sworn he’d never strike Harry again as he did that one drunken night a few years back, and while he had not physically struck him just now, somehow, it all felt too similar.

            Merlin, he was an incorrigible, despicable being. How could he betray Harry like that? Was he doomed to be that awful Death Eater he was when he had taken the mark? Was he born an evil soul? Was he doomed to be a living replica of his father?

            Severus focused on breathing as the images began to disappear, his occluding slowly beginning to take effect now. It did nothing to stop the heavy feeling of regret weighing in his gut like lead. His hands shook the slightest even as he managed to occlude every horrible memory to the darkest places of his mind.

            He had been so preoccupied with occluding that he did not hear Harry’s bedroom door open or even sense his son slowly walking over to him. He didn’t know Harry was in the same room at all until he felt Harry’s hand on his shoulder.

            “Dad?” Harry inquired softly.

            “I’m sorry,” Severus choked out, his voice barely a whisper. He didn’t move from his position, keeping his face obscured by his hands. “I’m so sorry.”

            “It’s okay,” Harry started to say.

            “No, it’s not okay,” Severus said. “I shouldn’t have . . .I didn’t mean . . .”

            “I know,” Harry said.

            Words were lost on Severus’s tongue, so he refocused on breathing and occluding, ignoring Harry’s presence, even as his son sat next to him on the couch, offering silent comfort. He took a few more minutes to breath and occlude before his hands ceased shaking and his mind was finally clearing away the last ebbs of panic, leaving only shame and regret for his behavior. He took a couple deeper breaths as he lowered his hands, clasping them together in front of him as he glanced over at Harry, who was sitting in a near identical manner, watching Severus intently. Harry offered a small smile when Severus’s eyes met his.

            How could I? The thought echoed in his brain, a relentless, self-inflicted accusation. Though, he knew, deep down, that his anger had been misplaced, a misplaced frustration fueled by fear and stress over a situation he had had no control over.

            What if I snap again? Came another thought that Severus frowned at, turning his attention to his own clasped hands. What if I can’t control my anger and end up really hurting Harry next time?

            “Hey,” Harry said, reaching over and placing his hand on Severus’s arm, squeezing gently. “I’m okay, Dad. Really.”

            “Are you?” Severus asked, not really believing the words.

            “I am. I’m sorry for pushing the issue with losing my wand,” Harry added, pulling his hands together again. “I really didn’t even think about it last night or bother to make sure I had it on me. I knew it was a stupid mistake, so I guess I was kind of annoyed when you got into lecture mode about it when I was already feeling like an idiot for not making sure I had it on me. That was all I was thinking about. I didn’t even consider all the stuff you said could happen to me because I wasn’t prepared or armed. I see why you were being so insistent on it now.”

            Harry rubbed his arms absently as he looked at Severus, waiting for a reply.

            Severus sighed heavily as he sat back on the sofa.

            “Regardless,” he said, “I should not have . . .”

            Severus closed his eyes for a moment before opening them and looking at his son.

            “I should not have attacked you as I did just to make a point,” Severus said. “And with your own wand nonetheless.”

            “I deserved it,” Harry said, looking down at the floor. “I was being a prat.”

            “You were not,” Severus said. He gently turned Harry’s chin so his son was facing him. “And no one deserves to feel afraid in their own home like that.”

            “It was kind of scary,” Harry confessed. He shrugged his shoulder as Severus let his chin go. “But I get what you were trying to do. I won’t forget my wand anytime soon. It was kind of eye-opening, really. There’s still a lot I don’t know about magic and what it’s capable of. Especially the darker kind. And I didn’t see much of what the Death Eaters were doing when they were rioting through the campsite, just that there was a lot of screaming and tents catching on fire. I guess torture wasn’t really on my mind. Or checking to make sure I had my wand.”

            “Unfortunately, this is now the reality we live in,” Severus said. “I fear that riot is only the beginning of a rise in the Death Eaters activities.”

            “Why? Do you think . . . You-Know-Who is planning something.”

            “I’m not sure about that,” Severus said, despite believing the opposite. “But none of the Death Eaters have really done anything together as a group in years. This event will only entice them to do something more again.”

            “Did the riot make you remember what you used to do when you became a member?”

            Severus frowned at the innocent question. The riot he read about in the paper only reminded him of one of the many “whys” that made him leave the rankings to begin with. No, fear was what made him remember what he used to do as a member, even if his role had been more limited as his value lay in his special brewing over labor in terrorism. And he had been thankful for that, as he managed to avoid much of the torture aspects, though there had been a few cases he had been dragged into. He was wrong then, and he was wrong now. Some things simply didn’t change.

            “No, Harry. Fear did.” Severus answered his son honestly.

            “Oh.” Harry looked up at his father. “And I didn’t help any.”

            “No.” Severus quirked a brow at his son. “But I didn’t help any either. Harry, I am truly sorry for attacking you as I did. I will do my best to ensure there is never a repeat of this.”

            “I know you will,” Harry said. “We all make mistakes. I make a lot of them. Too bad there’s no one around to smack you when you screw up.”

            Severus chuckled, elbowing his son playfully.

            “Indeed. Are you alright? Any pain from earlier?”

            “Well, a little bit in my side. You let me fall from the ceiling.” Harry rubbed at his right ribs pointedly.

            Severus winced at the accusation, then pulled Harry to his feet and stood him between his knees. Harry lifted his shirt to expose the side that was hurting, and Severus could make out the start of bruising along three of Harry’s ribs.

            “You know you do not have to forgive me every time I mess up,” Severus said as he summoned a healing salve. “Especially when I hurt you like this.”

            “Yeah,” Harry agreed, jumping a bit as the cold salve was rubbed into his skin. “But it feels better too. Besides, you don’t mess up as often as I do, and you still forgive me every time. I can do that too.”

            Severus smiled at his son, feeling lighter now that he had Harry’s forgiveness. It certainly did feel better, as Harry wisely put it. However, as he finished the salve and recapped the bottle, Harry gave him a very serious look as he fixed his shirt.

            “Just don’t ever do it again,” he said.

            “Yes, sir,” Severus said in a serious tone back.

            “There’s no need to call me sir,” Harry responded with his usual cheeky grin, and Severus couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his lips.

Chapter Text

            Severus’s eyes slowly opened as he heard what sounded like stumbling in the hallway of his house. He listened for a moment, registering the sound of water running in the bathroom, and he threw the blanket off and stretched as he stood up before heading to the bathroom. All the lights in the house were off, so as he arrived in the doorway, he flicked on the light, squinting for a moment as his eyes adjusted and focused on his son, who was holding a soaked washcloth to his forehead.

            “Harry?” Severus asked, his voice still a bit thick with sleep. He cleared his throat before asking, “What’s wrong?”

            “My scar,” Harry whispered, his voice shaky. “It’s burning.”

            Severus was instantly awake now. He crossed the room in a few strides and carefully pulled Harrys hands away, revealing the inflamed lightning bolt scar beneath the washcloth. He frowned at the sight of how red it was, then took the washcloth from Harry and wordlessly cast a cooling charm on it, then held it against the scar once more. Harry winced and closed his eyes, but did not pull away.

            “Hold this, son,” Severus said, and Harry reached up to hold the washcloth in place.

            Severus summoned a small jar and scooped out a small amount of the greenish salve within it. Moving Harry’s hand away once more, Severus applied a generous amount of the salve to the scar, being as gentle as possible though Harry had his eyes scrunched tightly despite his efforts.

            “Better?” Severus asked, watching some of the redness fade and the swelling diminish. He directed Harry to hold the washcloth back to the scar, and Harry slowly nodded his head.

            “Yeah, it’s better,” Harry said. He hesitated, then blurted out, “I had a nightmare. I saw . . . You-know-Who. He . . . he killed someone.”

            Severus’s expression hardened. A cold dread, familiar and unwelcome, coiled in his gut. He's back. The thought echoed in his mind, a chilling confirmation of his deepest fears. He had known this day would come, had spent years dreading it, yet reality struck him with the force of a physical blow. Harry saw him. That alone was a terrifying prospect. He had hoped, prayed, that Harry would remain shielded from the Dark Lord’s influence, but it seemed fate, as always, had other plans.

He remembered the burning agony of the Dark Mark on his forearm, the way it pulsed and throbbed whenever his master was near. He remembered the cold, cruel eyes, the sibilant voice that commanded absolute obedience. He remembered the casual cruelty, the utter disregard for human life. And now, Harry has seen him.

"You saw the Dark Lord?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. He needed to hear it, to confirm his worst fears.

Harry nodded, his eyes wide and filled with a fear that mirrored his own.

"And he killed someone?" Severus pressed, his heart pounding against his ribs. Each nod from Harry felt like a hammer blow.

Harry nodded again, and his voice trembled as he spoke.

"Frank Bryce," he whispered. "The old muggle gardener at the Riddle House. He was hiding there, with . . . with Pettigrew. And . . . and You-Know-Who just . . . killed him. Like it was nothing."

Frank Bryce. An insignificant muggle, yet his death was a chilling sign. The Dark Lord was testing his strength, reasserting his power. Pettigrew's presence confirmed his worst suspicions. The rat was back at his master's side, facilitating his return. He is rising. The thought sent a wave of nausea through him.

"He . . . he looked different," Harry continued. "Not . . . not like when he was on Quirrell's head. He was weaker, but . . . he was there. And Pettigrew was taking care of him, like . . . like a servant."

Severus’s hand, which had been hovering near Harry’s scar where his son was still holding the washcloth, clenched into a fist.

"I see," he said, his voice clipped. He needed to know more, but he couldn’t let Harry see the fear that was clawing at him. "Do you recall any other details?"

“No,” Harry said, shaking his head. “No, I don’t. Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Severus said, taking the washcloth from his son and checking the scar. It was back to normal now, though clearly still tender as Harry winced when Severus traced a finger over it.

“Do you want to see?” Harry asked suddenly, catching Severus off guard.

“See?” Severus repeated, quirking a brow at his son.

“You know.” Harry tapped a finger against his temple. “See my dream?”

Severus’s breath hitched. He knew he should. He should see it to understand the full scope of what was happening. But the thought of witnessing the Dark Lord's resurgence, the image of his weakened but still malevolent form, sent a shiver down his spine. He couldn’t bear to see it, not through his son's eyes.

"No, Harry," he said, his voice firm, though he felt a tremor in his hands. He placed a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I trust you. You have told me all that is necessary. I do not need to delve into your mind to know that what you saw was disturbing, and most likely, true."

Harry looked relieved, though a hint of uncertainty still lingered in his eyes.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "I just want to make sure I didn't miss anything important."

“I’m sure you didn’t,” Severus said. “But if you remember anything else, come tell me immediately.”

“I will,” Harry said.

Severus placed a gentle kiss on Harry’s temple, just above his scar, and he felt the slightest tinge of pain in his Dark Mark, but he was sure the conversation tonight may have triggered some painful memories, so he thought nothing of it.

“Come, back to bed. Do you think you’ll want a Dreamless Sleep tonight?’

“No thanks, Dad. I think I’ll be okay now.”

“If you’re sure.” Severus summoned his wand and cast a lumos, then, after turning the bathroom light off, he guided Harry back to his room, his hand resting lightly on his son's shoulder. He pulled back the covers, helping Harry climb into bed. He tucked the blankets around him, ensuring he was warm and comfortable.

"Try to sleep now, Harry," he said. "I’m right next door if you need anything."

“I know,” Harry said, a small smile on his lips. “Thanks for the salve.”

“You’re welcome. Goodnight.”

Severus stepped out of his son’s room then leaned against the wall just outside, extinguishing the light from his wand. The silence of the house pressed in on him, heavy and suffocating. The soft glow of the moon painted long, distorted shadows across the hallway, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was standing on the precipice of something terrible.

He’s back. The thought echoed in his mind, a cold, hard truth he could no longer deny. The Dark Lord was stirring, and the implications were devastating. He closed his eyes, his mind replaying the images Harry had described: the weakened form, the cruel eyes, the casual murder of a muggle. Frank Bryce. A name he barely knew, yet his death served as a stark reminder of the Dark Lord’s ruthlessness.

What would this year bring? And with the upcoming TriWizard Tournament, he was sure this year would at the least be chaotic, especially with the influx of so many strangers. Severus’s jaw clenched. He would have to be extra vigilant with his son this year.

He pushed himself away from the wall, his footsteps echoing softly in the silence. He needed to think, to plan, to prepare. He needed to find a way to protect Harry, even if it meant sacrificing everything.

The Great Hall was a cacophony of stunned whispers. The blue flames of the Goblet of Fire had spat out a fourth name, a slip of parchment bearing the words "Harry Potter." A hush fell, thicker than any silencing charm, as all eyes turned to the boy at the Gryffindor table.

Severus felt a cold dread grip his heart. He watched as Harry, pale and bewildered, was ushered forward by Minerva. The boy's eyes, wide with confusion, darted around the hall, finding Severus's. Severus rose his voice cutting through the murmurs of the other professors.

"Headmaster," he demanded, his voice low and dangerous, "this is absurd. Mr. Potter is a mere fourth year. He is too young and too inexperienced to compete in such a dangerous tournament."

Albus, his expression unusually grave, held up a hand. "Severus, I understand your concern. However, the Goblet of Fire has spoken. It is a binding magical contract."

"A contract that a child could not possibly have entered into willingly!" Severus retorted, his eyes blazing.

“I agree,” Albus said. “We must investigate this unusual circumstance, starting with asking Harry himself if he put his name in the goblet.”

Severus bit his tongue to keep himself from marching over to his son and demanding answers himself.

"Harry Potter!" Albus called out. "Harry! Up here, if you please!"

Severus narrowed his eyes as he watched Harry work his way through the crowd and toward the teacher’s table. Harry glanced at Severus first before meeting Albus’s eyes.

“Through here, Harry,” Albus said, gesturing to a door off the side of the table. Harry did as he was told and exited the Great Hall, followed by Albus, Severus, Minerva, Mr. Crouch, Mr. Bagman, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxine. They paused in a secluded hallway, just outside another room where the three champions were waiting for further instruction.

"Ogwarts cannot 'ave two champions,” Madame Maxine said. “It is most injust."

"We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff, his steely smile still in place, though his eyes were colder than ever. "Otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a wider selection of candidates from our own schools."

Albus was now looking down at Harry, who looked right back at him, trying to discern the expression of the eyes behind the half-moon spectacles.

"Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Harry?" he asked calmly.

"No," said Harry. He was very aware of everybody watching him closely. Severus made a soft noise of discontent, and Harry glanced at him, meeting his eyes, Severus gave his son a look that clearly said he best not be lying or else.

"Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?" Albus asked.

"No," said Harry vehemently.

"Ah, but of course 'e is lying!" cried Madame Maxime.

"He could not have crossed the Age Line," said Minerva sharply. "I am sure we are all agreed on that -"

"Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz ze line," said Madame Maxime, shrugging.

"It is possible, of course," said Dumbledore politely.

"Dumbledore, you know perfectly well you did not make a mistake!" Minerva said.

"Mr. Crouch, Mr. Bagman," said Karkaroff, his voice unctuous once more, "you are our objective judges. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular?"

Bagman wiped his round, boyish face with his handkerchief and looked at Mr. Crouch, who was standing outside the circle of the firelight, his face half hidden in shadow. He looked slightly eerie, the half-darkness making him look much older, giving him an almost skull-like appearance. When he spoke, however, it was in his usual curt voice.

"We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament."

"Well, Barty knows the rule book back to front," said Bagman, beaming and turning back to Karkaroff and Madame Maxime, as though the matter was now closed.

It was at that time that Mad-Eye Moody, the newest DADA professor, limped his way into the room while throwing wild but not completely impossible theories as to how Harry’s name ended up in the goblet of fire. Harry’s eyes were wide and a bit apprehensive at Moody’s accusations and thoughts, and Severus rolled his eyes at the adults’ careless use of words like death and assassination in the presence of the supposed target. It was slowly turning into a heated debate that Albus put an end to.

"How this situation arose, we do not know," said Dumbledore, speaking to everyone gathered in the room. "It seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to accept it. Both Cedric and Harry have been chosen to compete in the Tournament. This, therefore, they will do. . .”

"Headmaster, you cannot be serious," Severus said quietly. "This is Harry Potter we are speaking about. He has a target on his back, and you are sending him into a deadly competition?"

"I am aware of the danger, Severus. I will do everything in my power to ensure his safety. But the Goblet's decision is absolute."

With a frustrated sigh, Severus turned, shouldering past Harry so he could quietly whisper, “My office when you’re finished,” to his son before he stormed away, needing to take time to think while the champions were given instructions for their first task.

Severus rummaged through the library, his fingers tracing the spines of ancient tomes, his eyes scanning the faded titles. "Triwizard Tournament Regulations," "Magical Contracts and Obligations," "Historical Precedents of Inter-School Competitions." He pulled them down, one after another, the heavy volumes thumping onto the worn wooden table.

He sat down and flipped through pages filled with archaic script and faded illustrations, searching for any loophole, any clause, any precedent that could offer a way out for Harry. His brow furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line. The Goblet's decision was binding, he knew, but there had to be something, some obscure rule or forgotten tradition, that could be exploited.

A minor cannot enter into a binding magical contract without parental consent, he read, his fingers tracing a line of text. But the Goblet . . . overriding such considerations. It is a force of ancient magic, unyielding.

He tossed aside a thick volume on magical law, frustration gnawing at his insides. He felt a surge of protectiveness rush over him. He is just a boy, he thought, his eyes scanning the titles on the next shelf. A boy who has already faced too much.

"You seem to be on a mission, Severus," Poppy said as she turned around an aisle and scanned the shelves near him.

Severus looked up at her briefly before returning his full attention on the books.

"Just researching," he said, his voice clipped. "Certain . . . regulations."

Poppy raised an eyebrow, her gaze lingering on the stack of books before him.

"The Triwizard Tournament, I presume?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

Severus nodded curtly.

"It's a terrible business," Poppy said, shaking her head. "Putting children in such danger. It's barbaric."

"Indeed," Severus agreed, his voice tight.

"I'm looking for a text on magical contagions," Poppy continued, her gaze returning to the shelves. "There's a rather nasty magical flu going around. Nothing life-threatening, but a nuisance all the same. Nothing a certain protocol can’t cure overnight. Ah, here it is.”

Poppy pulled down a large tome and carried it over to Severus’s table, pausing in front of him.

"I wish you luck, Severus," Poppy said, her voice sincere. "For Harry. And for yourself. This tournament’s going to be difficult for everyone."

"Thank you, Poppy," Severus said, his voice softening slightly.

He continued his search, his eyes scanning the pages, his mind sifting through the information. After another thirty minutes, he was about to give up, to concede that there was no way out, when his fingers brushed against a thin, leather-bound volume tucked away on a high shelf.

He pulled it down, his heart pounding with a sudden surge of hope.

"Triwizard Tournament: Historical Anomalies," he read aloud, his voice barely a whisper.

He opened the book, his eyes scanning the index. "Disqualifications . . . Medical . . . Force Majeure . . .” He flipped to the relevant page, his breath catching in his throat.

The page described a case from the 17th century, where a champion had been legally disqualified following an outbreak of a magical plague that threatened the health of all the contestants. The tournament officials, fearing a widespread contagion, had invoked an obscure clause in the regulations, allowing for the disqualification of a champion in the event of a "threat to the collective well-being of the participants."

No replacement was found, so the tournament was the first and only to have two champions.

Severus’s eyes widened. A threat to the collective well-being. He closed the book, his mind racing. It's a long shot, he thought. But it's a chance. He tucked the book into his robes, a flicker of hope igniting within him. He would have to play his cards very carefully if he wanted to do this right.    

            Later that evening, Harry arrived at Severus’s office, and Severus glanced up from his desk, eyeing his son. He pointed to the chair that materialized in front of his desk.

            “Sit,” Severus demanded.

            Harry was quick to obey, slipping his bag off his shoulder and setting it down on the floor next to the chair before he collapsed in his seat.

"Harry," Severus began, his voice low and deliberate, "I need you to be completely honest with me. Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire?"

Harry's eyes widened.

"No! Of course not! You still think I did this?"

"Someone could have done it for you," Severus pressed, his gaze piercing. "A powerful confundus charm, perhaps. Or a more insidious method."

"Well how would I know then?" Harry said, throwing his hands up defeatedly. "I didn't do it, I swear. I don't want to be in any tournament."

Severus looked at Harry, searching his eyes for any sign of deception. He saw only fear and confusion though, which made him feel a bit better that perhaps his son was telling the truth. However, one could never be too sure, and there were limited options on how else Harry’s name could have gotten into the Goblet.

"Harry," he said, his voice softening slightly, "you know you can tell me the truth. No matter what happened, I will protect you."

"I'm telling the truth," Harry insisted, his voice rising in desperation. "I really didn't do it. I don't want to die!"

Severus's heart clenched. He really wanted to believe his son, and every fiber within him was screaming at him that Harry was being honest.

"Alright," he said, his voice firm but gentle. "I believe you. But we must find out who did this. This is not a game, Harry. This is a deliberate attempt to put you in danger. And let me be perfectly clear, if I find out from anyone else except you right now that you are lying to me, I will take my belt and strap you in whatever room I find you in, is that clear?"

"How is that fair?" Harry scoffed, crossing his arms. "You know, if you're so concerned about whether I'm lying, feel free to just rummage through my mind. I'm sure you'd find all sorts of fascinating things there. Like how much I totally wanted to risk my life for a stupid tournament."

“Watch your tone with me, young man,” Severus scolded lightly. Harry pouted in his seat, glaring at the wood grain of his father's desk. 

"It's not just you," Harry said flatly, breaking the tense silence. "No one in Gryffindor Tower believes me either. They all think I did it. Even Ron."

Severus's brow furrowed at the sadness in his son’s voice.

"They will come around," he said, his voice reassuring, though he knew Gryffindor's herd mentality could be stubbornly resistant to reason. "Give them time."

"Time?" Harry ran a hand through his already messy hair. "Time for what? For me to get killed in some stupid tournament?"

"You will not be killed," Severus insisted. "I am working on a solution. A way to extract you from this . . . nonsense. But it requires patience.”

“Do you have an idea?”

“I have theories, but nothing absolute,” Severus answered. “I will inform you if that changes. Okay?”

“Okay,” Harry agreed reluctantly.

"Good," he said. "Now, have you eaten?"

Harry shook his head, his stomach growling in response.

"Not really. Everyone's kind of avoiding me and I really didn’t feel like sitting in the Great Hall with everyone staring."

Severus's lips tightened.

"Then you will eat here," he said, rising from his desk. "I will not have you starving yourself on top of everything else." He gestured towards the door. "Come. I’ll have a house elf deliver the main course."

“And dessert?” Harry asked with a big grin.

“Only if you eat all of your vegetables,” Severus challenged, quirking a brow at his son’s groan.

After a large meal and a small dessert, Harry spent some time in his room working on his assignments before he bid his father goodnight and went to bed. Severus had been working in his lab since after dinner, which was nothing unusual to Harry. Vials bubbled and hissed on the workbenches, their contents glowing with an eerie luminescence. Severus moved with a practiced grace, his gloved hands manipulating delicate instruments, his masked face impassive.

This was a complicated mess he was working on. In one cauldron, a standard immune suppressant bubbled gently, its fumes carrying a faint, medicinal scent. In another, a carefully cultivated magical flu contagion simmered, its essence potent and volatile.

Severus's task was to carefully combine these two, to create a potion that would weaken Harry's immune system just enough to allow the magical flu to take hold, but in a way that would appear natural and gradual. It had to be believable, untraceable, and above all, not arouse suspicion.

A slow onset, he thought, his eyes focused on the swirling liquids. It must mimic the natural progression of the illness already circulating. A cough, a slight fever, perhaps a touch of fatigue. He carefully measured out a precise amount of the flu contagion, his movements deliberate, his gloved hands preventing any accidental contact.

He added the contagion to the immune suppressant, stirring gently with a glass rod. The mixture shimmered, its color shifting subtly. Severus carefully adjusted the temperature beneath the cauldron. He added a few more ingredients, including a few that would help mask the true nature of the flu. A few drops of peppermint oil, a few petals of a moonflower, and a pinch of powdered unicorn horn.

He worked for hours, his brow furrowed in concentration, his mind focused on the task at hand. The final product was a pale blue liquid, its surface shimmering faintly. It looked like a simple sleeping draught in color and even composition, and if anyone was truly suspicious and tested Harry, well, the potion would register as a sleeping draught. Perfection.

He carefully transferred the potion to a small vial, sealing it tightly with a stopper. He removed his mask and gloves, his face pale and drawn. He knew what he had to do, and the thought filled him with a mixture of determination and regret.

He slipped out of his lab, the vial clutched tightly in his hand. He slowly moved through his quarters, keeping his footfalls as light and silent as possible. He reached Harry’s room, the door slightly ajar. He pushed it open gently, peering inside. Harry was asleep, his chest rising and falling rhythmically. Severus stepped inside, careful not to brush against the creaky door.

He approached Harry's bedside, his gaze softening as he looked down at his sleeping son. He held the sealed vial in his hand, its pale blue contents shimmering faintly in the moonlight. He hesitated for a moment, his heart heavy, then raised the vial above Harry's stomach.

"I'm sorry, Harry," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "It's for your own good."

He didn't uncork the vial. Instead, he closed his eyes, his brow furrowed in concentration and muttered an incantation. The words were soft, barely audible, weaving a non-verbal charm that would deliver the potion directly to Harry's stomach, bypassing the need for physical contact.

A faint, shimmering light emanated from the vial, a delicate tendril of magic reaching out towards Harry. The tendril penetrated Harry's skin, delivering the potion directly into his system. Severus watched intently, ensuring the spell worked as it was supposed to, the potion seeping into Harry's bloodstream.

He turned and left the room, the sealed vial still clutched in his hand. He returned to his lab and grabbed a potion for himself, an anti-viral that would keep himself from catching what Harry was about to experience. He knew he was playing a dangerous game, but he was willing to do anything to protect Harry, even if it meant deceiving him.

Chapter Text

            The silence in his quarters was shattered by a series of muffled retches coming from the bathroom. Severus, who had been drifting in that liminal space between wakefulness and sleep, snapped fully alert.

            He sat up, his senses immediately on high alert. The sounds continued, and he knew what was happening. With a sigh, he pushed back the covers and moved towards the bathroom door. He paused just outside, listening for a moment longer before knocking lightly.

            "Harry?" he called, his voice low but firm.

            The retching subsided, followed by a weak groan. The door creaked open to reveal a pale and sweaty Harry leaning against the sink, his shoulders slumped. The air in the small space was thick with the unpleasant scent of recent illness.

            "What’s wrong?" Severus asked, his gaze sharp as it scanned his son's visibly unwell state.

            Harry looked up, his eyes watery and shadowed.

            "My stomach . . . it's awful." He clutched his abdomen. "Keeps . . . turning over."

            Severus stepped closer, reached out a hand and pressed it against Harry's forehead, his fingers lingering for a fraction longer than strictly necessary. There was a definite warmth there, more than usual.

            "Hmm," Severus murmured, withdrawing his hand. "There has been a rather unpleasant strain of the wizarding flu circulating amongst the younger years. It seems it has finally reached you."

            Harry groaned again, a sound of pure misery.

            "Oh, for Merlin's sake. Just what I need on top of everything else." Harry rubbed at his face as he leaned back against the sink again.

            Severus felt a twist of guilt in his gut, but he quickly suppressed the feeling. This was necessary. He offered a steadying arm.

            "Come. Back to bed."

            He guided Harry back to his room, the boy moving with a sluggishness that was unlike his usual boisterous energy. Severus retrieved a vial from his private stores, a mild fever reducer, something he had carefully diluted in preparation for this moment, and then he summoned a glass of water.

            "Drink this," he instructed, handing the potion to Harry.

            “I don’t know if I can,” Harry said, making a face.

            “It has a bit of anti-nausea in it. You shouldn’t throw up again.”

            “You say shouldn’t,” Harry muttered but he did take the vial.  

            Harry swallowed it without question, his focus solely on the discomfort wracking his body. Severus finally arrived at his son’s bedroom and he helped him get back into his bed. He tucked his son under the covers, then rested a hand on Harry’s forehead, and already he could tell he was a bit cooler.

            “Thanks, I feel a bit better already,” Harry said as his father brushed his sweaty hair back.

            "The best thing you can do now is rest," Severus stated, pulling the blankets higher around his son.

            A weak, cheeky grin flickered across Harry's pale face.

            "Does that mean I can skip your class, Dad?"

            Severus fixed him with a dry, amused glare.

            "We shall see about that, brat. Now, try to sleep." He watched until Harry's eyes fluttered closed, then studied his son a moment longer.

            He would need to be careful with the dosages of the virus as he continued from here. He needed symptoms to progress naturally, not too suddenly, but not remain so severe for days on end. A slow progression of worsening sickness then a slow progression of getting better. That would make this most believable for the TriWizard Tournament judges, and if he managed it right, he would be able to prolong the most severe part of the illness to just the day before the First Task, then he could have Harry begin improving. Yes, they would have no choice but to disqualify his son. Severus rested the back of his hand against Harry’s forehead once more, then returned to his own room.

            The next morning did little to dispel the gloom hanging over Harry. He lay still in bed, every muscle aching, his stomach still churning. Severus entered Harry’s room and rested a hand on Harry’s forehead.

            “How are you feeling?” Severus asked, his hand absorbing the warmth emitting from Harry.

            “Like shit,” Harry said honestly.

            “Mind yourself,” Severus said with no heat. He summoned a thermometer and held it out to Harry. “Open up.”

            Harry accepted the thermometer, and while that read his temperature, Severus left his son’s room and walked back to his private lab and storage supply.

            He selected a vial of fever reducer from his supply closet. Then, his eyes landed on a Pepper-Up Potion as he picked up a third, smaller vial—the one containing the refined strain of the wizarding flu. With movements so swift they would be imperceptible to a casual observer, he uncorked the Pepper-Up and carefully added a few drops of the potent virus potion, swirling it gently until the two liquids were indistinguishable. He recorked both vials with a soft click. Then, he picked up the Pepper-Up and carried it and the fever reducer back to his son’s room.

            He approached the bed and set everything down on the small nightstand.

            "Let's see how you’re holding up.” He retrieved the thermometer and read the numbers.

            "It's just a low-grade fever," Severus said, his tone reassuring. "This fever reducer should take care of that for you, and the Pepper-Up will have you back to classes in no time."

            He offered Harry the two potions.

            Harry, still feeling wretched, swallowed them obediently and sank back against the pillows. Severus reached out and placed the back of his hand against Harry's forehead once more. The lingering warmth was exactly as he’d anticipated.

            "If you are not feeling better by this evening," Severus said, his voice carrying a note of reluctant inevitability, "I suspect you'll have to see Madam Pomfrey."

            "I don't want to go to the infirmary," Harry complained, a whine creeping into his voice.

            Severus rolled his eyes.

            "You won't stay there. She may have a different potion that will tackle this flu better than what I have."

            "Can't you just make the potion that will work against this?" Harry asked. “I’m always in the infirmary. I hate it there.”

            "No, I cannot, because it requires a prescription," Severus said, his tone firm but reasonable. "Besides, Madam Pomfrey is keeping track of the spread of this thing. She'll want to know that you've picked it up."

            Harry sighed, the fight draining out of him.

            "Alright."

            "Good," Severus said, taking back the empty vials and pocketing them. "I'll have a house-elf bring you some easy, bland food. And you will eat it, Harry."

            "I'm not hungry," Harry mumbled, turning his head away.

            "Then you had better work up an appetite," Severus said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I have classes to attend to for most the day, but I will stop by around lunch to check on you. I want you to rest as much as possible today.”

            “Okay, Dad.”

            Severus leaned down and pressed a light kiss to Harry's temple.

            "Feel better, son." Then, with a final, assessing look, he turned and left the room, the door clicking softly shut behind him, leaving Harry alone to fall back to sleep.

            In his classroom, Severus penned a swift, concise note that stated simply that Mr. Potter had presented with a mild indisposition that morning and, on his recommendation, had returned to the Gryffindor dormitory to rest. He sealed it with a flick of his wand and sent it via his personal owl, ensuring the other heads of houses and Albus were informed without raising any undue alarm.

            His classes proceeded with their usual demanding rigor, Severus’s focus seemingly unwavering, but internally, he was feeling a bit anxious to get back to Harry. As much faith as he had in how he was dosing his son, it was still a virus, and Harry’s immune system could react in unexpected ways. He found himself checking the time more frequently than necessary, the image of Harry’s pale face lingering at the edges of his concentration.

            Lunch arrived, and Severus made his way to his quarters as soon as he was able to. He found Harry still in bed, the untouched plate of toast and watery soup sitting forlornly on the bedside table.

            A sharp frown creased Severus’s brow as he approached his son’s bed, and he gently shook his son awake.

            "Harry," he began. "I instructed you to eat."

            Harry blinked his eyes open, squinting up at his father, then he looked at the untouched food and made a face.

            "But I can't, Dad," he whined, his voice thick with congestion. "It smells . . . bleh.” He adjusted himself under the covers, rolling on to his back. "I feel absolutely dreadful. Like a troll sat on me and then dumped a bunch of billywigs on my face."

            Severus’s lips thinned slightly.

            "Don't be melodramatic. You need to eat and stay hydrated."

            "But I'm going to be sick again!" Harry protested. "Honestly, just the whiff of that makes me want to heave. Can't I just sleep?" He burrowed further under the covers, a picture of utter misery. "Everything hurts, and my head is pounding."

            Severus sighed heavily as he crossed his arms.

            "Harry, you are being unnecessarily difficult. A few bites will not kill you. In fact, it will likely help you feel marginally better."

            "No, it won't!" Harry insisted. "It'll make me feel worse! I just know it. Please, can't I just have some water and call it a day? Or maybe nothing at all? Just let me lie here and suffer in peace."

            Severus pinched the bridge of his nose briefly.

            "Peace will come with a modicum of food in your stomach. You cannot expect your body to fight off this . . . this inconvenience on nothing. Sit up. Now, young man.”

            Reluctantly, Harry pushed himself up against the pillows, looking utterly defeated. Severus vanished the old food and set the tray on Harry’s lap, then tapped his finger against the tray. Fresh toast and chicken noodle soup appeared. He felt Harry's forehead again, the persistent warmth a confirmation that his plan was progressing as intended.

            "Here," Severus said, producing another vial. "This is a fever reducer with an anti-nausea component. Perhaps it will settle your stomach enough for you to manage a few bites."

            Harry swallowed the potion with a grimace, the bitter taste adding to his already substantial misery. Under Severus’s stern gaze, he picked at a piece of toast with the enthusiasm of a condemned man facing the gallows. He took a small, hesitant sip of the soup, his face wrinkling in distaste. Severus quirked a brow at his son.

            “If you’re going to be like this during the duration of your illness, perhaps you should stay in the infirmary,” Severus said, though he couldn’t of course enforce that. He wouldn’t be able to keep Harry in this perpetual state.

            “I bet Madam Pomfrey would let me suffer in peace,” Harry muttered as he forced another sip of the soup down.

            “One would think you were facing a nundu, not a bowl of perfectly palatable chicken noodle.”

            “Well, at least the nundu wouldn’t try to force-feed me lukewarm broth,” Harry retorted, a spark of his usual defiance flickering in his weary eyes.

            Severus quirked a small smirk.

            “I see this sickness hasn’t affected your sharp tongue. Let’s see if it’s elevated your temperature as well.” He took the thermometer left on Harry’s nightstand and placed it under Harry’s tongue. After a moment, he retrieved it. “Still a low-grade fever. However, if you are not feeling significantly better by this evening, a visit to Madam Pomfrey will be unavoidable.”

            He needs to be seen by her, Severus thought. Her diagnosis, made public, will solidify the narrative. The judges will be aware of his condition. It will all appear entirely natural.

            "Yeah, yeah, I know," Harry muttered, rolling his eyes. "No need to lecture me. I'm not an idiot."

            Severus raised an eyebrow.

            "I wouldn't be so sure of that." He paused, then added, "However, I will make sure to collect the day's work you missed in your classes. Consider yourself lucky it's the weekend."

            He ran his hand through Harry's hair, and even then he could feel the slight heat his son was emitting. He really hated what he was putting his son through but if everything worked according to plan, Harry wouldn’t be competing in the awful tournament. He just had to endure Harry’s mood and get through the worst of it with his son until he succeeded in extracting him from the games. He eyed Harry’s plate, noting that very little of the food had been consumed.

            "And try to finish as much as you can,” Severus said, tapping the tray insistently. “The house elf will inform me how much you've eaten, and it better be a good amount, or I'll be force-feeding you dinner later."

            Harry gave a weak grin.

            "I'll do my best, Dad."

            Severus ruffled his son's hair.

            "Good boy. When you’re done eating, get some rest." He paused, then added, "And try not to be too much of a brat."

            With a final glance at his son, Severus left the room, taking a dose of an antiviral potion as he went. He needed to protect himself as well. He couldn't afford to fall ill during this crucial period.

            The final bell of the day offered Severus a fleeting moment of anticipation, the thought of checking on Harry was at the forefront of his mind. However, a cluster of fifth-year students, their brows furrowed in concentration, waylaid him just outside the classroom door. Their queries, though pertinent to the day's lesson on advanced potion-weighing techniques, grated on his already stretched patience. He answered them with his usual precision, each syllable clipped and informative, but inwardly, he chafed at the delay. His gaze kept drifting towards the corridor, as if hopeful the students might pick up on his subtle cues that he’d very much like to be elsewhere.

            Just as he finally managed to extricate himself from the eager students, the familiar twinkle of Albus Dumbledore's eye caught his attention. The Headmaster stood near the end of the hall, flanked by Professors McGonagall and Flitwick, their expressions suggesting a matter of some importance.

            "Ah, Severus," Dumbledore said. "Just the man we needed. We seem to have encountered a minor . . . diplomatic entanglement regarding the visiting delegations."

            Severus's inner sigh was profound.

            "And what seems to be the problem?" he inquired.

            "It appears," McGonagall interjected, her lips pursed, "that some members of the Beauxbatons contingent have expressed . . . dissatisfaction with their assigned chambers. Something about the proximity to the Hogwarts kitchens and the resultant aromas."

            Flitwick wrung his hands slightly as he said, "And a few of the Durmstrang students find their quarters insufficiently . . . austere."

            Dumbledore chuckled softly.

            "Indeed. It seems our guests have rather specific preferences. We were hoping, Severus, that perhaps with a touch of your renowned diplomacy, you might offer some insight into a more agreeable arrangement."

            Severus's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. The housing arrangements of pampered foreign students were the last thing he wished to concern himself with. However, direct refusal to the Headmaster was rarely a prudent course of action.

            "Very well, Headmaster," he conceded, his voice devoid of enthusiasm. "Though I confess my expertise lies more in the direct order and compliance of my students in my house rather than the delicate sensibilities of adolescent guests."

            He reluctantly joined the small group, his mind already calculating how quickly he could offer a plausible, if uninspired, solution.

            “I meant to ask you, Severus,” Minerva said as she walked next to her colleague, “I got your note regarding Harry, but when I went to check on him in his dorm he was nowhere to be found. He didn’t decide to attend your class after all, did he?”

            “No,” Severus said, “but I am hardly surprised Potter did not obey an order to report back to his dorm. Typical. He probably took advantage of the day off I gave him to go flying or go on some other adventure.”

            Minerva chuckled.

            “Oh, to be young. You can’t say you never pulled a stunt like that in school. Everyone is allowed one free skip day, in my opinion.”

            At least she doesn’t seem overly concerned, Severus thought. Though, if this had been a student in his own house, he would have hunted the student down and taken several points away. To each their own, he supposed.  

            The ensuing discussion was a tedious affair, filled with bureaucratic jargon and the exaggerated complaints of spoiled students. Severus contributed minimally, offering pragmatic suggestions aimed at swift resolution rather than genuine appeasement.

            It wasn't until the Great Hall had emptied, the echoes of dinner conversations fading into the night, that Severus finally found himself free. A knot of worry tightened in his chest as he hurried towards his private quarters, the prolonged absence fueling his concern for Harry. He hoped his son was resting, and that the subtle manipulations he had set in motion were proceeding as planned. The thought of Harry unwell, even if by his own design, still held a disconcerting edge.

            Relief washed over Severus as he stepped into his private quarters. Harry was indeed there, sprawled on the couch, a light blanket draped over his legs, a well-worn copy of Quidditch Through the Ages resting in his lap. A half-eaten bowl of stew on the coffee table indicated that at least some of the dinner he’d instructed the elf to provide had been consumed.

            “Hi, Dad,” Harry said, his voice still a little rough but noticeably brighter than it had been at lunch. He sat up on the couch, setting the book aside.

            Severus frowned as he walked over to his son, wondering if perhaps some of the flu had been fought off by Harry’s own immunity and if he would need to adjust the dosage. He moved closer, placing a hand on Harry’s forehead. The warmth that greeted his touch was undeniable, a persistent heat that belied Harry’s seemingly improved state.

            “How are you feeling?” Severus asked.

            “A bit better, actually,” Harry said. “I felt okay enough to read for a bit. But . . . well, after I ate some of the stew, I . . . I threw it all up again. So I stopped.”

            “You were sick again?”

            “Yeah,” Harry mumbled, looking slightly sheepish. “But honestly, before that, I really did feel a little better. Maybe it was just the stew.”

            “Did you go see Madam Pomfrey?” Severus asked.

            “No,” Harry said, avoiding his gaze.

            “No?” Severus repeated, his tone hardening slightly as he narrowed his eyes at his son.

            “That’s what I said,” Harry mumbled.

            “Why not?”

            “Well,” Harry reasoned, fidgeting with the corner of his blanket, “maybe I just need another day. More rest, you know? And maybe another one of those fever reducers. I’m sure I’ll be fine tomorrow.”

            “You were told to see Madam Pomfrey if you were not improved by this evening,” Severus said, his voice rising. “She indicated a specific potion might be necessary to actually cure this flu, not merely mask the symptoms! I told you specifically what to do.”

            “But I am a little better!” Harry insisted, his own voice rising in frustration. “Why does everything always have to be such a big deal with you? I just need a bit more time, that’s all!”

            “A bit more time?” Severus threw his hands out in disbelief. “You were vomiting your dinner! That is not ‘a bit better,’ Harry! I asked you to go see Madam Pomfrey this evening, and now, she has most likely retired for the evening. Was that one request so difficult for you to follow?”

            “It’s just a stupid flu! I can handle it myself! You’re not some bloody expert on wizarding illnesses, you know. Stop fussing and leave me alone, I’m fine!”

            “Do not take that tone with me, boy,” Severus growled, leaning over his son slightly.

            "Look, I'm sick and miserable, okay? Sorry if I’m not groveling sufficiently for your medical expertise.”  

            “That’s it,” Severus snapped, and he grabbed Harry and pulled him to his feet, then he sat down on the couch himself, quickly pulling his son over his knees. “I don’t care how sick you are, you do not speak to me that way, little boy!”

            “Dad, no, wait—” Harry tried to say as he tried to push himself off his father’s lap, but Severus pinned him down with an arm and used his free hand to pull his son’s pajama bottoms down.

            “Regardless of your ailment, you will show a modicum of respect,” Severus said as he landed a hard smack, earning a gasp from Harry. “Your sarcasm is as tiresome as your stubbornness."

            With that said, Severus landed several more sharp smacks over his son’s bottom, and Harry sniffling was difficult through his congestion, and he coughed slightly in between his tears as he squirmed over his father’s lap, hissing slightly at a few of the smacks.

            “Dad, please,” Harry whined, “I can’t . . . breathe.”

            “Perhaps you should have thought of that when you decided not go to Madam Pomfrey,” Severus said, smacking his son a few more times before he felt merciful and pulled Harry to his feet, standing him in between his knees. Harry sniffed and used a hand to swipe at his running nose before he righted his pajama bottoms, giving Severus a pitiful look. Severus gave his son a stern look before he reached up and placed his hand over Harry’s forehead. “I’ve probably exasperated your fever now. The next time I tell you to do something, I expect you to follow my orders to the letter, young man. And without this attitude you’ve adopted.”

            “Okay, I will,” Harry said, a couple tears running down his cheeks.

            Severus felt the smallest pang of sympathy for his son. He really hadn’t wanted to resort to smacking his child while he was so sick, especially since the sickness was his doing, but he still would not tolerate any disrespect. Better to nip that in the bud now as this was going to be a very long recovery for his son. Severus sighed as he pulled a handkerchief out of an inner robe pocket and handed it to his son, who wipes at his eyes first then blew his nose.

            "I know you do not feel well," Severus began, his voice softening slightly, though the underlying firmness remained. "However, your current stubbornness is counterproductive. Madam Pomfrey has seen this particular strain of influenza before. She possesses the expertise and the proper remedies to address it effectively. While I can offer symptomatic relief, I do not have the specific potions she might employ for a swift and complete recovery.

            "Furthermore," he added, "I gave you an instruction. Your defiance, particularly in your current state, is illogical. Cooperating with me in this matter is not about some power struggle; it is about ensuring you receive the best possible care. Even if you were feeling marginally better, after you were sick from eating something as simple as stew, you should have gone directly to the infirmary. Now you have to wait until tomorrow, and if you are still ill, I will be escorting you there myself. So all this was nonsense tonight would have been for naught.”

            Harry nodded his head instead of answering verbally, and he cleaned his eyes once more with a corner of the handkerchief.

            “I’m sorry, Dad.” Harry said, his shoulders slumping. "I didn't mean to be so rude. And I’m sorry I didn’t go see Madam Pomfrey like you asked."

            He avoided Severus's gaze, his cheeks flushed with a mix of fever and embarrassment.

            Severus's expression softened. He reached out and gently pulled Harry into a hug, his hand resting on the back of his son's head while Harry’s arms wrapped around his shoulders as he leaned into his father. Harry sniffled against him.

            "I know, Harry," he murmured. "I’m sorry you're not feeling well. I only want to help you get better."

            After a moment, Severus brushed back Harry’s fringe and planted a gentle kiss on his son’s warm forehead, the sensitive skin of his lips burning from the contact. He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching Harry's.

            "Now, let's try this again. You need to eat something. Even if it's just a little." He vanished the remnants of the cold, untouched food and summoned a fresh plate of slightly warmer, even blander fare: plain chicken broth and a few dry crackers. Harry sighed and pulled away from his father, sitting tenderly on the couch before pulling the tray forward, making a face at the smell of it.

            “Let me grab you another fever reducer and anti-nausea, maybe with an anti-emetic as well,” Severus said, standing up. “You’re still pretty warm. I want to get this fever controlled before it leaves you delirious.”

            He walked over to his supply closet, and as soon as he stepped into it, he swallowed another dose of his own antiviral potion, a bitter taste on his tongue. He selected yet another vial of fever reducer. Beside it, he picked up a potion specifically for nausea and another labeled as an anti-emetic. He couldn’t have his son starve through the duration of this after all. His gaze then fell upon the small, innocuous vial containing the refined strain of the wizarding flu. As he did before, he uncorked the fever reducer and carefully added a few drops of the liquid, swirling it gently before resealing it.

            He exited the closet and walked back to his living room, handing over the three vials to his son.

            “Take these, Harry. The anti-emetic should help keep your stomach settled.”

            Harry took the potions readily, trusting his father’s knowledge. Then, Harry sat on the edge of the couch and began eating a few nibbles of chicken.

            Another plate delivered itself next to Harry’s. It was grilled fish and steamed vegetables, something Severus personally requested for himself to be delivered when he returned to his quarters for the night. He sat beside Harry on the couch. He kept a watchful eye on his son as he ate, noting that Harry managed to finish a reasonable portion of the bland broth and a few more crackers.

            Once he was done eating, Harry curled up under the blanket and leaned against Severus’s side, his head resting on his father’s arm. The warmth radiating from him was still significant. Harry watched his father eat a few more bites of his food before his eyes began to grow heavy.

            “Thanks, Dad,” Harry mumbled sleepily. “For taking care of me.”

            A wave of profound guilt washed over Severus, constricting his chest. He moved his arm around Harry, squeezing him gently to his side.

            "Of course, son," he said, his voice rough with an emotion he dared not fully acknowledge.

Chapter Text

            Severus had been monitoring Harry’s condition throughout the night, and the boy was proving to be more affected by the modified flu strain than he had initially anticipated. A flicker of something uncomfortably close to concern briefly touched his carefully guarded emotions. He would need to be careful with his future doses. Harry had spent most of the night coughing, and at one point, he had been coughing so hard it caused him to vomit, and he had not made it to the bathroom in time for that. Of course, nothing a quick cleansing charm couldn’t handle, but Harry was still beyond embarrassed. And the coughing did not lessen despite Severus’s potions, not to Severus’s surprise, but it left both of them with very little sleep.

            Severus entered Harry’s room, the dim light of dawn casting long shadows. Harry was a huddled form beneath the covers, his face pale and etched with discomfort. A low groan escaped him as he shifted restlessly.

            Severus crossed his arms, his dark eyes assessing the boy with a sharp, clinical gaze. A single eyebrow arched almost imperceptibly.

            “Ready to see Madam Pomfrey now?” he asked, giving the impression that he was still annoyed with his son for not seeing Madam Pomfrey last evening.

            Harry managed a weak nod, his green eyes dull and watery.

            “Yeah,” he rasped, his voice barely audible. “Please.”

            A fleeting flicker of something that might have been pity crossed Severus’s features before being swiftly masked.

            “Very well,” he stated, offering a curt inclination of his head. “I shall escort you to the infirmary.” He paused, allowing a hint of his displeasure to lace his tone. “Though I trust you have learned a valuable lesson about the consequences of neglecting your health.”

            “Yeah, Dad, I know, I know,” Harry mumbled as he pushed the covers away and forced himself out of bed.

            It took Harry forever to dress into a day robe and find his trainers, but once he was ready, he followed his father out of their quarters and up the stairs toward the infirmary. As they approached the infirmary, the hushed silence of the castle gave way to a low murmur of discomfort. Even through the closed doors, Severus could hear the occasional cough and the soft rustle of movement. He pushed the doors open to reveal a scene of organized chaos.

            The usually pristine white beds were almost all occupied, each holding a student looking varying shades of pale and miserable. Several students were curled up, shivering despite the warm blankets, while others lay listlessly, their eyes glazed with fever. A few were coughing fitfully, their faces flushed. Poppy, her face etched with weariness but her movements brisk and efficient, flitted between the beds, administering potions, adjusting blankets, and murmuring reassurances. The air was thick with the cloying scent of Pepper-Up Potion and other medicinal concoctions.

            Poppy’s head snapped up as she saw them enter. Her brow furrowed with concern as her gaze landed on Harry.

            “Come in, Harry, have a seat,” she said, gesturing to a vacant bed near the far wall. She was currently tending to a small Ravenclaw girl whose face was flushed with fever, her hand resting gently on the girl’s forehead as she murmured soothing words.

            As Madam Pomfrey bustled towards them, Severus observed the crowded infirmary with a critical eye. Internally, he was quite pleased with how many students had picked up the flu, as it would make Harry seem like just one more unfortunate victim to the plague.

            “You seem rather occupied, Poppy,” he remarked, his tone dry, though the observation was merely stating the obvious.

            Poppy sighed, her attention momentarily divided between Harry and a Hufflepuff boy who was emitting a series of weak groans.

            “This is nothing unusual for this time of year, Severus,” she replied, her voice carrying a hint of exhaustion. “Especially for new muggleborn students. Thankfully,” she added with a touch of her usual optimism, “it will die down soon enough. They usually do.” She finally reached Harry, her gaze softening with concern as she took in his pallid complexion. “Now, let’s have a look at you, Harry dear.”

            Poppy’s brow furrowed immediately as she took in his clammy skin and the faint tremor in his hands. After a quick diagnostic charm, her expression softened with familiar exasperation.

            “It seems you’ve caught the wizard flu. It’s been quite rampant this year, hasn’t it?” she said, already bustling towards her stores of potions. She returned with a collection of vials, their contents shimmering with various hues. “Take one of the Pepper-Up in the morning, the Draught of Peace at midday if you feel achy, and this Anti-Viral Draught before bed. You should be right as rain in a few days, guaranteed.”

            Just then, the doors to the infirmary opened and the Triwizard judges – Ludo Bagman, Barty Crouch Senior, and Madame Maxime – entered, their faces etched with concern.

            “We heard one of our champions was unwell,” Bagman said, his usual jovial tone slightly subdued.

            Severus resisted the urge to smirk. Legilimency was not only useful for reading minds but putting ideas into minds. He had managed to send subtle messages of a sick champion to the judges last night during the sleeping accommodations shuffle. Now that everyone was here to see the sick students, including Harry, this would all seem very natural indeed.

            Poppy sighed.

            “Indeed. Mr. Potter has come down with a nasty case of the wizard flu. It seems quite unfortunate timing.”

            Crouch Senior nodded stiffly.

            “We trust he will recover swiftly?” he asked. “The first task is but a fortnight away.”

            “With proper rest and these potions, he should be fine,” Poppy assured them. “Though it would be best if he kept away from the other champions in the meantime.”

            “A quarantine, perhaps?” Madame Maxime suggested, her large frame filling the doorway.

            “Ideally, yes,” Poppy replied, a hint of frustration in her voice. “But my infirmary is quite full with other students also suffering from this particularly virulent strain. Space is at a premium.”

            Harry, feeling increasingly wretched, mumbled, “I could just sleep it off in my dorm.”

            “I wouldn’t advise that.” Poppy’s eyes widened slightly. “You’d risk spreading it to your entire house. We don’t want a full-blown epidemic on our hands. We’ll be quarantining entire houses before you know it.”

            It was at this point that Severus stepped forward.

            “Perhaps Potter could recuperate in my quarters.”

            A stunned silence fell over the small group. The judges exchanged bewildered glances.

            “You’d be risking your own health,” Madame Maxime said.

            “I’ll be taking an anti-viral myself, of course, to keep from catching this,” Severus said. “I’d hardly want to be out of commission that I can’t teach my classes. Besides, I do have a spare bedroom that I could modify into a quarantine space for one Mr. Potter.”

            “Are you quite sure?” Bagman asked. “That is . . . most generous of you.”

            Severus gave a curt nod, his gaze fixed on Harry, who simply looked miserable.

            “I assure you, I have no desire to harbor a perpetually sniffling Gryffindor any longer than necessary. I shall have Potter well and out of my hair in a matter of days.”

            Poppy offered a small, knowing smile.

            “Actually, that is a rather excellent idea. Professor Snape’s quarters are private and would allow Harry the necessary peace and quiet to recover without risk to others.” She turned to Harry. “Are you comfortable with this arrangement, dear?”

            “Er . . . yes, Madam Pomfrey, that’s fine with me,” Harry said, looking like he wanted nothing more than to lie down and go back to bed.

            Poppy beamed.

            “Wonderful! Here are the potions, Severus.” She handed him the vials, and Severus pocketed them. “He’ll need plenty of rest, and ensure he takes these at the proper times. Don’t hesitate to send for me if his condition worsens, though I expect he’ll be much better in a few days.”

            “Naturally, Poppy. Potter’s swift recovery is in everyone’s best interest.” He gave a clipped nod to the judges. “If you’ll excuse us.”

            As Severus guided a slightly unsteady Harry towards the exit, the judges were left murmuring amongst themselves, clearly concerned for the wellbeing of the other champions. Yes, his plan was unfolding just as he wanted it.

            For the first few days, Harry mostly slept, the wizard flu clinging to him with surprising tenacity. Severus ensured he took the prescribed potions at the correct intervals, but the Anti-Viral Potion was the one he always diluted out before adding his own modified strain of the flu. Harry took all the potions readily and without question. Throughout the day, Severus would bring trays with bland but nourishing food and made sure Harry ate a fair amount while also keeping the food down.

            Now, Severus couldn’t keep his soon in such a severe state of illness. For one thing, it frightened him that he might be putting Harry’s immune system through too much. Two, it was unnatural to remain so severely ill for so long. It would be better if Harry had some better days, so after five days of misery, he skipped a dose of the virus for a couple days.

            As the initial severity of the illness began to wane, a weary restlessness took its place. Harry, pale and still weak, found himself increasingly bored. Severus, anticipating this, brought him the coursework he was missing from his other classes. Transfiguration essays lay beside Charms exercises, and even a daunting stack of scrolls for History of Magic.

            “Here,” Severus said, placing the parchments on the small table beside Harry’s bed. “Keep your mind occupied. Though I expect little intellectual brilliance in your current state.”

            Harry managed a weak glare.

            “Thanks,” he mumbled, picking up a quill with a sigh. The effort of reading even a few lines proved exhausting, and he often found himself drifting back to sleep.

            Harry’s patience and obedience in following every rule Severus gave started to wane when ten days of dealing with the flu passed. Seeing that the majority of the student body had recovered except for him was understandably frustrating.

            “Madam Pomfrey said a few days!” he croaked one afternoon while lying on the sofa, his voice still raspy. “I should be better by now. The first task is next week!”

            Severus, who was sitting in his armchair across from his son grading a large stack of essays, glanced over at Harry.

            “Wizarding illnesses can be persistent,” he said “Especially this strain, it seems.”

            “I’m feeling a little bit better though,” Harry said. “I can’t possibly be contagious still. Can’t I start going back to classes?”

            “You were just rechecked by Madam Pomfrey,” Severus said. “She told you to continue quarantining. I suggest you do as the mediwitch says.”

            Poppy had been beyond stumped when she had seen Harry again, as though she was surprised her potions had not worked. She had commented that it wasn’t uncommon for sickness to linger, the duration of this flu Harry was fighting with was unusually prolonged. She had decided however, that it was most likely a mutated strain, and she adjusted the doses of her potions with hope that Harry would be cured within the next few days, just in time for the tournament. Of course, Severus couldn’t let that happen, and he had already heavily diluted the new Anti-Viral potions.

            “But what if she’s wrong,” Harry asked.

            “I doubt it, she rarely is,” Severus answered. “If you are so bored, you have a pile of homework you’ve barely touched. If you say you’re feeling so well, then that pile should be halfway finished with.”

            Harry sighed heavily before he sat up and pulled the coffee table closer, picking up his quill and looking over his assignments, then opened a Charms textbook.

            “It’s not the same as going to class. And I miss hanging out with Ron and Hermione. You even had to turn Giovanna away when she tried to visit. I can’t see any of my friends.”

            “I’m sure you wouldn’t want to pass this long and awful sickness to them, would you?”

            “Well, no,” Harry said. “But I’d keep my distance. I can even keep my mouth and nose covered.”

            “You are better off staying here until you are completely recovered,” Severus said. “As you said yourself, you’re starting to feel better. You may be on a mend and in just a few more days, you’ll be free of your captivity in the dungeons.”

            “This sucks,” Harry mumbled, writing notes from the chapter he was reading.

            Severus paused in his grading and looked up at his son. He was tempted to scold for his constant complaining, but he didn’t have the heart to do so as he remembered he would be contaminating yet another of Harry’s anti-viral potions.

            “It does,” he agreed, and Harry looked up to meet his eyes with a miserable expression. “But you have been quite ill, Harry. This variant of the flu seems particularly tenacious. Rest is the most potent magic in this instance. You will get better. You will.”

            Later that evening, as Severus checked on Harry, who was drifting in and out of sleep, Harry mumbled in an exhausted tone, “Dad . . .”

            Severus paused, resting a gentle hand over Harry’s forehead.

            “I’m sorry,” he replied softly, “but you will get better. When the time is right.”

            The next day, Severus returned to his quarters near his lunch hour to spend some time with Harry, who he was sure was feeling very lonely. However, he returned to very quiet rooms and a knot of unease tightened in his chest as he noted the empty bedchamber. Harry was not there.

            A cold dread washed over him. Had the boy’s condition worsened? Had he tried to return to Gryffindor against his instructions? A near-panic seized him, a primal fear for his son’s safety overriding his carefully cultivated composure. Without conscious thought, his wand was in his hand, the incantation for a locator charm leaving his lips in a sharp whisper: “Appare Vestigium!"

            The faint, shimmering outline of a figure appeared on the edge of his magical sensor, moving slowly but steadily. Not towards Gryffindor Tower, but . . . away from the dungeons? Severus focused his intent, narrowing the search. The outline solidified, and recognition struck him like a physical blow. It was Harry. And the faint magical residue clinging to him . . . History of Magic.

            Fury, hot and sharp, replaced the initial fear. Harry had decided to go to class despite what they had discussed last night. The boy had deliberately disobeyed him, had risked the health of the entire student body for a fleeting moment of . . . what? Nostalgia? Recklessness?

            Severus moved with swift, silent strides, his cloak billowing behind him. He intercepted Harry in a deserted corridor on the third floor, just as his son was bidding farewell to Ron and Hermione.

            “I’ll see you guys later,” Harry said, his voice still a little weak.

            His friends exchanged concerned glances but nodded and continued down the hall. Harry turned, a hopeful smile fading from his face as he saw the towering figure of his father blocking his path, his expression thunderous.

            “Harry,” Severus’s voice was low and dangerous, each syllable laced with barely suppressed rage. “What in Merlin’s name do you think you are doing?”

            Harry flinched.

            “I . . . I just went to History of Magic.”

            “History of Magic?” Severus repeated, his eyes narrowed to slits. “You are still contagious, you insufferable boy! Do you have any concept of the potential ramifications of your reckless behavior? Did you think about the other students? Did you want to start an epidemic?”

            “No, sir,” Harry mumbled, looking down at his feet. “I just . . . I was bored. And I wanted to see Ron and Hermione. I thought maybe . . . maybe seeing them would make me feel a bit better.”

            “Feeling better?” Severus scoffed. “By potentially infecting half the school? Did it not occur to your insufferable brain that viruses are not sentient beings that politely keep their distance? They travel through the very air you breathe! Even sitting at the ‘far back,’ as you so foolishly put it, does not negate the risk!”

            “Hermione and Ron sat far away from me,” Harry insisted, a hint of defiance creeping into his voice.

            “Distance is relative! Microscopic pathogens do not adhere to your arbitrary notions of ‘far enough’! They can linger in the air, on surfaces! Your blatant disregard for the well-being of others is astounding!” Severus’s voice rose, echoing in the empty corridor. “I gave you explicit instructions to remain in my quarters. I provided you with everything you needed. And you repay my concern with such utter foolishness?”

            Severus’s patience, already stretched thin, finally snapped. With two swift flicks of his wrist, he delivered two sharp stinging smacks to the seat of Harry’s trousers.

            “Ouch!” Harry yelped, clutching his backside. “We’re in the hallway! Someone could hear.”

            “That,” Severus said, his voice dangerously calm, “is for your willful disobedience and your reckless endangerment of your fellow students. Now return to our quarters. Move! And do not think for one moment that this conversation is over.”

            Severus maintained a rigid silence as he followed a chastened Harry back towards the dungeons. The sting of the smacks served as a potent reminder of the consequences of disobedience, and Harry managed to sneak a few rubs in on the way down to their quarters. Once they were within the relative privacy of their quarters, Severus turned to face Harry, his arms crossed over his chest.

            “That little excursion of yours, Harry, was an act of utter foolishness and blatant disregard for the health and safety of this entire school.” His voice, though quieter now, held a sharp edge. “As a consequence, you are confined to these quarters until further notice. Furthermore,” he continued, his gaze unwavering, “there will be no more reading for pleasure, no practicing spells outside of any assigned coursework, and absolutely no interaction with your friends. You are to remain within your bedroom until I deem you completely recovered. Do you understand?”

            Harry, still rubbing his backside and looking thoroughly miserable, mumbled a sullen, “Yes, sir.”

            “That means,” Severus emphasized, his voice firm, “no sneaking out under any circumstances. If you require anything, you will inform me. You break that rule, you will not like the consequences. Am I understood?”

            “Yes, sir,” Harry repeated, his gaze fixed on the floor.

            Severus gave a curt nod.

            “See that you remember it. Go to your room.” He watched as Harry retreated to his bedroom, the door closing softly behind him. Severus remained standing in the sitting room for a long moment before he dragged his hands down his face. He only hoped his drastic measures would prevent any further recklessness from his stubborn son.

            The next few days were a blur of discomfort and increasing malaise for Harry as Severus increased the dose of the modified virus into Harry’s diluted Anti-Viral potions that should have cured him of this awful flu. Despite the slightly altered potions Madam Pomfrey had prescribed, his condition seemed to worsen. The aches intensified, his cough became more frequent and rattling, and a persistent headache throbbed behind his eyes. He spent most of his time in bed, the energy to even pick up a book for class completely absent.

            Severus ensured Harry drank fluids, even when the boy’s stomach protested, and pressed cool cloths to his fevered brow. He brought bland meals that Harry often only picked at, his appetite vanishing entirely.

            “I can’t eat it,” Harry complained when Severus brought him bland chicken noodle soup one night.

            A sigh escaped Severus. He placed the bowl of steaming soup on the bedside table, the bland aroma doing little to entice the already pale face of his son.

            “You’ve barely eaten all day, Harry,” he said. “Can you try a few bites? You need something in your system to fight this.”

            “I’m just going to upchuck it,” Harry whined as he rolled onto his side, his back now facing Severus, a clear indication of his utter lack of appetite.

            A wave of sympathy washed over Severus. The bravado and occasional insolence that usually characterized Harry were absent, replaced by a vulnerability that tugged at something deep within him. He saw not a defiant teen, but a sick and uncomfortable child.

            He sat down gently on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. For a long moment, he simply watched Harry’s small frame tremble slightly beneath the covers. Then, hesitantly, he reached out a hand, his long fingers brushing back the tangled hair from Harry’s forehead. The skin beneath his touch was still slightly feverish.

            “I know you feel wretched,” Severus said, “but even a little sustenance will help. Think of it as fuel for your body’s defenses. You’re not going to get better if you eat nothing.”

            With a small groan, he shifted again, this time resting his head against Severus’s shoulder, and Severus adjusted himself so he could sit back against the headboard with his son leaning against him.

            “Dad,” he mumbled, “I’m really not up for eating. I can’t breathe and my chest is killing me. Sleep helps too, right?”

            Severus tightened his arm gently around Harry’s small frame, running a hand up and down Harry’s arm comfortingly.

            “Rest is important, Harry, undeniably. But your body needs nourishment to heal. Think of it like stoking a fire; without fuel, it will eventually die out.” Severus picked up the bowl of soup and held it out to Harry. “Just a few mouthfuls. For me? So I don’t have to worry quite so much.” He felt a pang of guilt at the manipulation, but his concern for Harry’s well-being, however ironically caused, was genuine.

            Harry remained silent for a long moment, his breathing shallow and ragged against Severus’s chest. Finally, with a sigh that seemed to emanate from his very core, he pushed himself up slightly, his green eyes clouded with exhaustion and discomfort.

            “Okay,” he mumbled, his voice hoarse. “Just . . . just a little.”

            Harry accepted the bowl of soup and blew at it before taking a spoonful and slowly eating a bite, swallowing the broth with a grimace.

            “That’s good,” Severus murmured. “Just a little more.”

            Harry’s initial reluctance slowly gave way to quiet acceptance, his eyes drooping slightly as he ate bite after bite. When Harry had managed a few decent mouthfuls, he offered the bowl back to Severus, who set the bowl aside. He looked down at his son, whose head had once again found its resting place against his shoulder, his breathing a little less strained now. He leaned his head against Harry’s and pressed a soft kiss to his temple.

            “Rest now, Harry,” he murmured. “I’m here.”

            Finally, the day before the first task, Poppy, accompanied by the Triwizard judges, looked over Harry one last time in the infirmary. They found Harry looking pale and drawn, his eyes dull. The judges observed him with grave expressions.

            “Mr. Potter,” Barty Crouch Senior said, his voice formal, “we wished to assess your condition ourselves before tomorrow’s event.”

            Harry managed a weak nod but didn’t have the energy to speak. Madam Maxime placed a large, gentle hand on his forehead, her brow furrowed. “He is still quite unwell, Severus.”

            Severus merely shrugged as if indifferent.

            “He did not respond well to the potions Madam Pomfrey offered,” Severus said. “Not much I could do about that. Of course Potter would find someway to be difficult with just sickness alone.”

            Ludo Bagman, usually so effervescent, looked somber. “It would be . . . unfair to the other champions to have one competing in such a state. Not to mention the potential risk of contagion.”

            One of the judges, a wizened old wizard from the International Confederation of Wizards, whom Severus didn’t recognize, stepped forward, closer to his son. He withdrew a thick, ancient-looking book bound in cracked leather. Its pages looked brittle with age.

            “There is a traditional measure in such circumstances,” the wizard intoned. He opened the book to a specific page covered in archaic script and began to chant in a language he didn’t understand, and by the look on Harry’s face, Harry was confused as can be. The air around the book shimmered with a faint golden light.

            “Morbus excludo, certaminis finio,” the wizard concluded, his voice echoing softly in the room. He then held the book out to Harry, the illuminated page facing him. “Place your finger upon the page, young champion.”

            Confused but too weak to protest, Harry hesitantly placed his index finger on the glowing script. Instantly, a sharp, stinging pain shot through his fingertip. A single drop of blood welled up and was absorbed by the ancient parchment.

            “This verifies your condition,” the wizard explained, closing the book gently. “It confirms that your illness prevents you from participating fairly and safely in the Triwizard Tournament.” The wizard opened the book once more to the page, and the words on the page pulsed with a bright golden light before fading.

            “It is done,” the wizard declared. “Officially, Mr. Potter is no longer a champion in this year’s Triwizard Tournament.”

            A wave of relief washed over Severus, so potent it almost buckled his knees. He kept his expression carefully neutral, but the tension that had been coiled tight within him finally eased. At last, he could start actually healing his son now that the threat of him competing in a dangerous game was over.

            Later that evening, Severus and Harry shared a quiet dinner in the privacy of his sitting room. Harry, though still unwell, seemed less burdened, a subtle weight lifted from his shoulders.

            “I guess I won’t have to worry about competing now,” Harry said. “That’s kind of nice.”

            “I agree. And you can simply focus on your health.” Severus tapped the coffee table where Harry’s barely touched dinner sat. “I expect you to eat far more than that.”

            Harry sighed and picked up his plate, forcing a few more bites into his mouth. Once Harry had managed to eat his fill, he set the plate aside and fought back a yawn, losing the battel in the end.

            “Go ready for bed, Harry,” Severus said. “I will be in with your potions for the night.”

            As Harry headed towards his bedchamber, a knock echoed at the door. Severus opened it to find Madam Pomfrey standing on the threshold, a small tray of vials in her hands.

            “Severus,” she said, her tone polite but with a subtle undercurrent. “I’ve prepared a new course of potions for Harry. Now that circumstances have changed.” Her eyes flickered to the closed door of Harry’s room, a knowing look in their depths. “These should address the . . . prolonged nature of his illness and give him a speedy recovery.”

            Severus met her gaze, recognizing the unspoken accusation. Poppy was no fool. She had likely pieced together that Harry’s illness had taken an unusually long course, coinciding precisely with his removal from the tournament.

            “Thank you, Poppy,” he said, his voice carefully neutral. “That is most appreciated.”

            “Of course,” she replied, her lips curving into a small, near fake smile. “Rest is still paramount. Goodnight, Severus.”

            “Goodnight, Poppy.”

            Severus watched her go, a knot of unease tightening in his stomach. He had underestimated Poppy’s perceptiveness. He turned to find Harry standing in the doorway to his lab, a vial clutched in his hand. It was the original strain of the wizard flu virus, carefully contained and labeled.

            Harry’s green eyes, though still clouded with illness, held a spark of something new – curiosity mixed with a dawning suspicion.

            “Dad,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “What is this?”

Chapter Text

            "Dad," Harry said, his voice quiet but firm. "What is this?"

            Severus hesitated, his mind racing as he eyed the vial, its label a damning testament to his deceit. He slowly walked over to his son, his brain scrambling for a plausible explanation, a way to defuse the ticking bomb in Harry's grip.

            "Last I recalled,” he began, his voice cautious, “my lab is not your bedroom."

            "Don't play dumb," Harry snapped, stepping fully into the sitting room, the vial held accusingly in his hand. "You've always been so fastidious with your labeling, haven’t you? 'Wizard Flu Virus – Type C, Refined Strain.' So, what is this, then? Some new perfume you're concocting?" His voice was laced with bitter sarcasm.

            “Harry,” Severus began to say.

            "Have you been intentionally making me sick?" Harry asked, his eyes wide with disbelief. The words hung in the air, a devastating accusation. When Severus did not answer immediately, the silence itself was a confirmation. Harry seemed to know the answer.

            "Why?" Harry's voice cracked, thick with a pain that ripped through Severus, even as he braced himself. "Why would you have this? Why would you . . . why would you do this to me?"   Severus felt a cold dread settle in his gut, a sickening mixture of exposure and grim satisfaction that his plan had worked. He met Harry's gaze, his own hardening with desperate resolve.          

            "I did it to protect you, Harry. To keep you safe from that infernal tournament."

            "Safe?" Harry scoffed, taking a shaky step back. "You made me sick! You made me feel like rubbish! You stood there, watching me throw up, pretending to care, when you were the one poisoning me all along!" Harry’s voice rose, trembling with outrage.

            Severus’s face remained impassive, though his eyes narrowed the slightest.

            “I understand you’re upset,” he said, his voice low, “but let’s discuss this rationally . . .”

            "Rationally?" Harry scoffed, his voice rising to a furious shout. "You’ve been secretly dosing me with an enhanced magical flu for days! You contaminated the bloody healing potions and you’re telling me to be rational? What, should I thank you for making me miserable?"

            "You’re out of the tournament now," Severus said, his voice clipped, trying to focus on the undeniable success. "And I have the healing potion that will put an end to this sickness, truthfully this time. Madam Pomfrey's new course will have you fully recovered within hours."

            Severus held out the vials Madam Pomfrey had brought down, but Harry jerked back away from them as if they were venomous.

            "I don’t want any potions from you! Not a single one! I can't believe—" Harry started, his voice thick with emotion, then suddenly stopped himself, a harsh, humorless laugh bubbling from his chest. "No! You know what, no, I can believe it! I can believe it because it’s so like you, you manipulative arse!"

            "Watch your mouth, little boy!" Severus snapped, his own temper flaring at the disrespectful slur. He set the tray of vials down on the coffee table with a harsh thud and crossed his arms, fighting the annoyance and slight hurt building in his chest. He tried to ignore the personal attack as he reminded himself why he did what he did. Harry would not be competing. This was all good news. The results had worked as he planned.           

            "What, you don't like it when I'm honest?" Harry shouted, tears of anger stinging his eyes. "Do you really have such little faith in me? Do you think I'm so weak I couldn't handle the truth about what you were doing to get me out of the tournament? That I wouldn't have understood why you were doing it?"

            "The binding magical contract of the Triwizard Tournament would have detected any deceit on your part if I had informed you, Harry!" Severus roared back, losing all semblance of composure. "It would have nullified the illness and put you back into the dangerous tasks! I could not risk it. I could not risk the magic itself detecting your non-compliance and giving you severe magical repercussions. I had to ensure your safety first and foremost!"

            "And lying to me was the only way?" Harry's voice was trembling with a raw, bleeding hurt that cut through Severus's anger. "Making me think I was just sick? Making me so bloody ill was the only way you could get me out of the tournament. I got into trouble twice with you over this and this is your fault! You stood there and watched me suffer, and you're the one who caused it!"

            "What do you want from me, Harry?" Severus snarled, suddenly exhausted by the raw emotion, his voice harsh. "An apology? Because you're not getting one. I have absolutely no regrets about what I did to keep you safe!"

            "You bloody bastard!" Harry yelled, the words tearing from his throat, a final, furious act of defiance. He spun on his heel and lunged for the door, clutching the vial of flu virus as if it were a talisman of his father's treachery.      

            "Where do you think you're going?" Severus demanded, taking a step forward.

            "Away from you!" Harry shouted, wrenching the door open. “For all I know, you might try to make me paralyzed next!"

            The slammed door echoed through Severus's quarters, a stark punctuation mark to Harry's fury. The silence that followed was heavy, stifling, amplifying the tremor in Severus's hands. He stood rigid, listening to the fading sound of Harry's furious footsteps. Gone. Harry was gone. He chased him off with his deceit.

            The sting of Harry's words — manipulative arse, bloody bastard, little faith, like you'd make me paralyzed next — echoed in the sudden, desolate silence. The image of Harry's furious face, his back turned, slamming the door, burned behind Severus's eyes.

            He was tired. So profoundly, bone-deep tired. Tired of fighting, tired of hiding, tired of keeping his relationship with his son secret. The constant vigilance, the intricate lies, the carefully constructed facade – it all felt like an unbearable burden. He had done it all for Harry, for the boy who had just called him a monster, who had looked at him with utter revulsion.

            The craving hit him with the force of a physical blow, a cold, insidious whisper promising oblivion to the knot of guilt and frustration twisting in his gut. The craving for something strong and bitter to burn down his throat and wash away all the emotions he was suddenly feeling.

            Just one. The thought slithered into his mind, seductive and potent. Just one. To dull the sharp edges of this failure yet success. To silence the accusations ringing in his ears. To forget the crushing disappointment Harry had thrown at him. No one would know. No one else was there, and Harry was gone. He closed his eyes, clenching his fists until his nails dug into his palms.

            He took a ragged breath, the desperate need clawing at him, promising peace, promising a brief, blessed escape from the raw, exposed nerves of his soul.

            “Portia!” he barked, his voice hoarse, fighting the tremor within.

            A moment later, the house-elf popped into existence, eyes wide. "Master Severus?"

            "Bring me a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky," Severus said, the words tasting like ash in his mouth even as he spoke them. "And be quick about it."

            “Portia is to remind Master Severus—at Master Severus’s request—that Portia is not to—”

            “Just bring it now,” Severus growled, dismissing whatever the elf wanted to babble about.

            Portia gulped then vanished and reappeared with a clink, placing the familiar, inviting bottle on the table. Severus stared at it, the amber liquid glinting under the low light, a siren song. His hand trembled, reaching out. He stopped. Harry's green eyes flashed before his own, furious as they were, yet still vulnerable. He had promised Harry. He had promised his son, no matter what.

            With a growl of self-loathing and a surge of sheer will, Severus snatched the bottle, not to open it, but to hurl it back at Portia, who managed to catch it before it hit her, fumbling with it slightly.

            "Get that out of my sight! And get me my cloak! Now!"

            Portia, startled, vanished the bottle and reappeared with Severus's heavy black cloak. Severus snatched it, throwing it over his shoulders, and strode out of his quarters, ignoring the curious portraits and the late-night quiet of the castle. He needed out. He needed a different kind of antidote.

            The small, cozy living room in Ostbridge was a stark contrast to the echoing halls of Hogwarts. Freddy, a gray haired muggle reading an evening paper in his armchair, looked up as Severus let himself in. The scent of chamomile tea and woodsmoke filled the air.

            "Severus," Freddy said, his voice warm. He rose from his armchair, heading to the small kitchen nook to pour two mugs of tea. "Didn't expect you tonight." He turned, offering a steaming mug to Severus. "I must say, as much as I love company, it is not the most ideal social hour, wouldn't you agree, Severus?"

            Severus took the mug, the warmth seeping into his chilled hands. He sank into his usual armchair whenever he visited, the worn velvet a familiar comfort. He scrubbed a hand over his face.

            "I nearly slipped up tonight. Came very close to just one drink, one shot."

            Freddy nodded, his expression knowing, and settled back into his own chair. "What happened?"

            "Had a row with my son," Severus admitted, the words heavy. He avoided Freddy's gaze, staring instead at the flickering flame in the hearth. "He . . . found out something. Something I did to protect him from a . . . new rather dangerous activity at the school, but I went about it in entirely the wrong way. I ended up making him feel awful, and then lied about it."

            Freddy waited, understanding that this was all he'd get on the specifics. "And the row?"

            "He's furious. Said some things . . . well, he's a teenager. I don’t think I told him what he wanted to hear, but honestly, I still have no regrets. As I see it, I very well saved his life, but he’s looking only at what I did to achieve that. So he left. And he slammed the door on his way out.” Severus's voice was tight with a mixture of anger and a deeply buried pain.

            Freddy leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "Sounds like he feels betrayed. And maybe a little scared, if you went about protecting him in a way he didn't understand."

            "He's a stubborn, incorrigible little brat," Severus muttered.

            "He's your son," Freddy countered gently. "And he's hurting. Look, Severus, sometimes, when you're trying to protect someone, you forget that how you do it matters just as much as why. Especially with kids. They need to trust you. And when that trust gets shaken, it's a big deal."

            Freddy sighed and hesitated for a moment as he thought over his words.

            "You're not going to get him to see your side of it by standing your ground and being angry.” Freddy shook his head at Severus. “He needs to know you understand his pain, not just that you think you were right."

            "So, what? I grovel?" Severus scoffed.

            "You listen," Freddy corrected. "You tell him you understand why he's upset. You acknowledge that you hurt him, even if your intentions were good. And you apologize for the hurt, even if you don't regret the core action. It's not about groveling. It's about mending. About letting him know that his feelings matter to you. That he matters to you more than being right."

            Freddy took a slow sip of his tea. "It's a long road back when trust gets broken. But it starts with acknowledging the damage, not just the intent."

            Severus sat in silence, the warmth of the fire doing little to thaw the cold dread in his stomach. He had protected Harry, yes. But at what cost?

            A week bled into another, and the cold war between Severus and Harry settled into a grim routine. Harry was a ghost in the castle, avoiding Severus with a practiced ease that stung more than any shouted insult. When their paths inevitably crossed – in the Great Hall, during class changes, or even just in a corridor – Harry’s demeanor was a carefully constructed wall of indifference.

            One particularly blustery afternoon, Severus rounded a corner near the Transfiguration courtyard and found Harry heading towards him, a heavy book bag slung over his shoulder. There was no avoiding it this time.

            "Harry," Severus said, his voice measured. "How are you feeling today? Any lingering . . . discomfort?"

            Harry’s eyes flickered to his father's face for a split second before dropping to the stone floor.

            "Fine," he mumbled, his voice flat. “Thanks to Madam Pomfrey.”

            "Have you caught up on the Potions work you missed?" Severus pressed, trying to find a conversational foothold, anything to break the icy silence.

            "Some," Harry replied, his pace quickening slightly, clearly eager to get past.

            "And the essay?" Severus continued, a knot tightening in his chest. He wanted to push, to demand a proper answer, to force Harry to look at him. But the fragile line of communication, threadbare as it was, might snap completely.

            "Working on it," Harry grunted, already drawing level with him, his head still bowed.

            Severus watched him, a dull ache settling beneath his ribs. This was his punishment, he knew. The silent treatment, the clipped answers, the averted gaze – it was more effective than any scream. Harry, in his quiet defiance, had mastered the art of making Severus feel the full weight of his actions. He craved to pull Harry aside, to make him look him in the eye, to scream, to apologize, to force him to acknowledge the years of quiet care that now felt obliterated by one act of desperate protection. But he held himself back. He knew, with a painful certainty, that pushing too hard, too soon, would only drive Harry further away.

            So, Severus merely nodded.

            "Very well," he said, the word tasting like ash. "Do endeavour to submit it by Friday."

            Harry offered no reply, merely quickening his pace until he was out of earshot, leaving Severus standing alone in the corridor, the silence heavier than before. He knew he deserved this. He knew he had to let Harry mete out his silent justice, for now. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but one he had no choice but to endure if there was any hope of eventually mending what he had so carelessly broken.

            The fragile truce, however, shattered with the grading of Harry's latest essay. Severus stared at the sloppily written parchment, the glaring errors, the utter lack of effort. He had no choice. Scrawling a Dreadful at the top, a knot of exasperation and concern tightened in his chest. No amount of pouting, sulking, or even silent treatments, no matter how deserved they might be, would allow this to fly unpunished. A failing grade was simply unacceptable.

            He waited until Harry's last class, dismissing the other students with a curt wave of his hand.

            “Potter, stay behind.”

            Harry, already halfway out the door, paused, and Severus could see the debate in his son’s eyes: to obey or disobey. Thankfully, Harry turned, though his shoulders were stiff. When the last of the students left, Severus leaned against his desk and crooked a finger at Harry, summoning him back into the classroom. Harry huffed and walked back over to the desk, stopping at the first row of the desks.

            "Your latest essay." Severus held up the offending parchment. "A failing grade, young man, is never acceptable. Care to explain what happened here?”

            “Well, obviously I didn’t understand the material well enough to get even an Acceptable,” Harry sniped. “Pity.”  

            “I doubt that. You and I have been over the proper uses of bicorn horn several times this year. You barely put any effort into your homework, almost intentionally.”

            Harry shrugged, avoiding Severus's eyes. "So? Maybe I'm just not interested in Potions anymore. Considering the awful ways they can be used."

            The jab was pointed and venomous. Severus narrowed his eyes and leaned forward slightly, meeting Harry’s eyes.

            “You are not going to allow this little debacle between us affect your grades. You can be mad at me all you want, but you will put in the effort in class, young man. I will not tolerate you falling behind in your classes.”

            “Not classes,” Harry said. “Just yours.”

            “Oh, just mine then?” Severus quirked a brow. "Are you implying that because I chose to protect you, my subject is now somehow beneath your contempt?"

            "I'm just saying," Harry retorted, his voice rising, "that maybe I've lost a little respect for the whole 'potions solve everything' idea when they're used to poison people!"

            "Watch your tone!" Severus snapped, his voice dangerously low. "That is quite enough, Harry. You will rewrite this essay and turn it in again next class."

            "What?" Harry scoffed, disbelief etched on his face. "You don't let anyone else rewrite essays! And I'm not getting special treatment just because you decided to play Dark Lord with my health!"

            "This is not about special treatment, you impertinent boy! This is about your academic performance, which has plummeted since you decided to throw a childish tantrum!" Severus said, striding closer. "Do you want to fail this class and have to repeat the year?"

            “Oh, well I wouldn’t want to stick around Potions longer than I have to, now would I? I’ll aim for acceptables from now on, then we won’t have to put up with each other for more years than necessary.”

            “You are so bloody impossible.” Severus shook his head before running a hand down his face. He slammed the horrid essay down on his desk. "Fine then. Detention. Tonight at seven. My classroom. We'll see if scrubbing cauldrons changes your mind about the value of your education."

            “Am I dismissed then, sir?” Harry asked with a glare.

            Severus was so very tempted to smack Harry’s insolent rear end, but he reminded himself of why they were even in this situation, and he couldn’t bring himself to do so. He simply gave a curt nod and turned back for his desk while Harry quickly left the room.

            That night, Harry stood rigidly before Severus’s desk, his jaw set, his eyes fixed on the scuffed toes of his shoes. Severus, in terse, clipped sentences, outlined the evening's task, his voice betraying none of the frustration simmering beneath his impassive facade.

            "There are five cauldrons in the washbasin, Harry. They are to be thoroughly scrubbed until they gleam. Any residue, any smudge, will result in a repeat performance tomorrow evening."

            Harry’s only acknowledgment was a quiet, "Yes, sir."

            "You will use the standard cleaning charms first, then follow with a proper abrasive scrub and a final polishing cloth. Understood?" Severus continued.

            "Yes, sir." Harry’s voice was flat, devoid of emotion, as if reading from a textbook. He offered no further verbal acknowledgment, no sign he'd even heard, beyond the stiff set of his shoulders. The cold silence that had settled between them over the past week was now a palpable presence in the dungeon, a tangible wall. 

            "Begin," Severus finally ordered, seeing the futility of extracting further response. The silence, so unlike Harry’s usual outspoken nature, grated on Severus’s nerves. He returned to his desk, pulling a stack of essays towards him, the scratching of his quill a counterpoint to the growing racket from the sink.

            Harry attacked the cauldrons with furious, unbridled energy. The clang of metal against ceramic, the loud splash of water, and the grating scrape of the scrubbing brush filled the dungeon classroom. Each movement seemed designed to be as loud and defiant as possible, a physical manifestation of the anger he couldn't articulate. Severus's quill pressed harder against the parchment, his jaw clenching with each unnecessary clatter.

            "Harry!" Severus snapped, shooting an irritated glance at his son. "If you damage any of those, you'll be back here every night for a month to work off replacing them."

            The threat hung in the air, but it barely registered.

            Harry gave no response. His movements didn't soften; if anything, the next cauldron dropped into the sink with an even more violent clatter, sending a splash of murky water over the edge. He scrubbed with a ferocity that bordered on reckless, his breath coming in short, angry huffs. In his haste, his hand slipped, missing the edge of the cauldron and catching instead on a forgotten cutting knife inside.

            "Ow!" Harry cried out, a sharp, involuntary sound of pain that cut through the clamor like a knife. He dropped the scrubbing brush, cradling his hand, blood welling quickly between his fingers, a vibrant crimson against his pale skin.

            Severus was on his feet in an instant, his chair scraping back with a harsh sound that echoed through the dungeon. His own irritation vanished, replaced by an immediate concern as he saw blood dripping to the floor in front of his son. He was across the room before Harry could fully register his presence, his long strides covering the distance in mere seconds.

            "What have you done?" Severus asked.

            "I'm fine!" Harry retorted, pulling his hand away as Severus reached for it, pressing his other hand more tightly over the wound. His face was pale, drawn with pain, but his eyes still blazed with a determined fury. "I'll just go to Madam Pomfrey. Like any other student. I don't need your help."

            Severus’s hand hovered, a mix of exasperation and genuine concern tightening his features. The sight of Harry's blood blooming between his fingers overrode every other impulse.

            "And how do you know I don't heal minor injuries for my students when they manage to injure themselves in my own classroom?" His voice was laced with an unusual weariness, trying to bridge the chasm between them with a semblance of normalcy. "Don't be foolish. Let me see it."

            Harry hesitated, looking from his throbbing, bleeding hand to Severus’s unwavering gaze. The pain was sharp, and the thought of marching all the way to the infirmary, leaving a trail of blood, was suddenly unbearable. Slowly, reluctantly, he lowered his hand, revealing the deep, ugly gash across his palm.

            Severus took it gently, his long fingers surprisingly deft as he examined the cut. His expression softened, the usual sneer absent, replaced by a focused, almost tender concentration. His thumb brushed lightly over the raw skin, a fleeting, tender contact that sent a jolt through Harry. He muttered a quick incantation, and a soft, golden glow enveloped Harry's hand. The skin knitted together, the wound closing, leaving only a faint red line where it had been moments before. Severus held Harry's hand for a moment longer than necessary, his thumb still brushing lightly over the healed skin, a silent, unspoken reassurance. Harry, for his part, didn't pull away immediately, a slight awkwardness settling between them in the aftermath of the unexpected intimacy. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment, a glimpse of the complicated emotions swirling beneath the surface, before Harry finally pulled his hand back, the unspoken connection almost too much to bear.      

            “Thanks,” he muttered, rubbing fingers over the healed skin.

            Severus sighed, the sound heavy with unspoken burdens. He looked at Harry, his dark eyes filled with a complex mix of frustration, concern, and regret.

            "Harry," he said, his voice quiet, almost a whisper, "I . . . I am sorry. For what I did."

            Harry scoffed.

            "You don't mean that. You said you didn't regret what you did."

            "You're right," Severus admitted, his gaze unwavering, accepting the painful truth. It was a profound admission for him. "I do not regret removing you from that tournament. But I do regret how I’ve gone about it, and how it’s made you feel. I regret the pain I caused you."

            Harry didn't say anything, just stood there, his shoulders hunched, his gaze fixed on the now whole skin of his hand. The anger was still a roaring inferno within him, but a tiny part of him had softened at Severus's quiet words. After a long moment of silence, he looked up, his eyes dull.

            "Can I leave now?" he asked.

            Severus hesitated for a fraction of a second, the desire to speak, to explain further, to push for more, warring with the knowledge that pushing Harry now would only solidify the chasm between them. He nodded slowly.

            "Yes, Harry. You may leave. Rest your hand. It might be healed, but your natural inflammatory process might still react and cause some swelling.”

            Harry didn’t say anything in response. He simply turned and walked out, leaving Severus alone in the classroom, the heavy silence settling once more, amplified by the ghosts of their recent argument.

Chapter Text

            The week that followed the detention felt like walking on broken glass. The immediate, icy disdain that had encased Harry since Severus's ill-fated attempt to keep him out of the tournament had certainly melted, but it hadn't been replaced by the easy warmth Severus sometimes glimpsed between Harry and his young friends. Instead, there was a quiet wariness, a guardedness in Harry's green eyes whenever Severus was near, almost as if his son wasn’t quite sure what to make of his adopted father anymore.

            Harry’s homework, which had previously been either a sullen, barely legible scrawl or simply nonexistent, was now merely adequate. He turned it in on time, the ink not smudged, the answers technically correct, but there was no spark, no hint of genuine engagement. He answered questions in class with a polite brevity that was almost more frustrating than his previous insolence. It was the performance of a student who wished to avoid notice, not one who sought understanding or connection. Severus felt the sting of it – Harry was performing for the grade, for the sake of avoiding detentions, not out of any renewed respect for the subject or, more painfully, for him.

            Their fragile, half-formed reconciliation was starting to wear on Severus. He craved more for the unguarded affection Harry had always shown him despite his flaws. But he knew, with a painful certainty born of years of missteps and regret, that pushing too hard, too soon, would only drive Harry back into his shell, perhaps irrevocably. He had to wait, to offer subtle openings, to demonstrate through actions what his clumsy words had failed to convey.

            The following Saturday arrived with a crisp chill as winter drew near, cutting through the stone walls of the dungeons, a perfect, deceptively serene day for the a Hogsmeade trip. Students were excited to pick out gifts for friends and family as the winter break would be upon them before they knew it. Severus found himself pacing his office, the heavy velvet curtains drawn against the weak morning light, yet unable to block out the gnawing knot of unease tightening in his gut. He had done his part; he had, with considerable personal risk and a deeply regrettable subterfuge, ensured Harry was out of the Triwizard Tournament. That specific threat, at least, was neutralized.

            But the larger danger, the shadowy hand that had so cunningly circumvented Dumbledore's formidable protective enchantments around the Goblet, still lurked. Severus had spent sleepless nights replaying the events, analyzing the magical signatures, the timing, the sheer audacity of it all. It spoke of a determined individual, one who likely had contingency plans. And now that Harry was no longer a forced contestant, the next phase of their insidious plot was surely imminent. Every passing minute Harry was outside the castle walls felt like an eternity. Anything could happen to his son, yet he had no leverage to forbid Harry from going to Hogsmeade with everyone else. There was no undeniable proof of a threat.

            His thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the rapid patter of smaller, hurried footsteps in the corridor outside, followed by a series of sharp, urgent knocks on his office door. It was Filius, his small face was pale, his eyes wide behind his spectacles.

            "Severus! The Headmaster requires your presence in his office immediately! It's urgent! There's been an . . . incident in Hogsmeade!" Flitwick’s voice was high-pitched, almost a squeak, but the underlying tremor of genuine alarm was unmistakable.

            Severus’s blood ran cold. He didn’t wait for further explanation, didn't even bother with a curt dismissal to the Charms Master. He flung his office door open, striding past Flitwick, his long cloak billowing behind him like a dark storm cloud, his mind racing through grim possibilities. A student injured? An attack? Harry? Always Harry. He moved with a practiced speed born of countless past emergencies, his path to Dumbledore’s office as ingrained as the brewing of a complicated potion.

            The gargoyle, usually a stubborn obstacle, slid aside instantly. Severus ascended the spiral staircase, his boots echoing ominously on the stone steps, his heart thudding a frantic rhythm against his ribs.

            He entered Dumbledore’s office without knocking, finding the Headmaster standing grim-faced by his Pensieve, his usually twinkling blue eyes clouded with an unusual intensity. Minerva, Filius, Pomona, and Poppy clustered around the desk as they arrived, their expressions a mixture of shock, profound concern, and lingering fear. A faint, acrid smell of burnt magic, metallic and unsettling, hung heavy in the air, a scent Severus knew all too well from years of dealing with dangerous dark artifacts.

            "Ah, everyone, thank you for coming," Dumbledore said, his voice unusually grave, devoid of its usual light inflection. "We've had an unfortunate incident in Hogsmeade. It appears someone attempted to use a malfunctioning Portkey. Thankfully, due to Professor Flitwick's quick thinking and Harry's unusual resilience, the outcome was not as dire as it could have been."

            Severus felt a jolt, sharp and sickening, as Dumbledore uttered Harry’s name. His carefully constructed wall of calm threatened to crack.

            "Potter, Headmaster? Is he harmed?" The question was clipped, betraying the turmoil beneath his composed exterior.

            Poppy stepped forward, her hands still faintly glowing with the residual energy of healing magic.

            "He's in the infirmary now, Severus,” she said. “Rested but shaken. He has a rather nasty magical abrasion where the Portkey clamped down. It pulled his arm partially into the vortex before Filius managed to sever the connection. Bones are all intact, no permanent damage, but it was a close call." Her gaze lingered on him, sympathetic and knowing.

            Severus’s stomach churned. A malfunctioning Portkey, aimed at Harry. This wasn't some random accident, a simple spell gone wrong. This was a calculated, deliberate attempt. And the bungled execution, the fact that it had only partially worked, only made it more terrifying. It meant the perpetrators were learning, refining their methods.

            "Headmaster," Flitwick chimed in, still looking a little pale and shaken, despite his small stature, "the object was disguised as a small, antique pocket watch. Completely unassuming, mind you. Harry simply picked it up from a display outside Scrivenshaft's quill shop. He said it 'looked interesting.' When he touched it, his arm just . . . disappeared, caught in the temporal flux. Had I not been right there and reacted instantly, he would have been pulled entirely through. There was a significant magical backlash when I finally managed to sever the connection." Filius shivered slightly, recalling the potent magic. "The force of the failed activation was considerable. It blew out several windows in Scrivenshaft's and sent Harry sprawling, along with several other students."

            A pocket watch. A seemingly innocuous object, easily overlooked, easily dismissed. Insidious. It was precisely the kind of subtle, deceptive trap the Dark Lord’s followers excelled at.

            "I have already sent word," Dumbledore continued, looking out through the office window as if seeing beyond the castle walls. "Until we can ascertain the full extent of this new threat, and more importantly, how they managed to circumvent the anti-Portkey wards on the grounds – wards I personally strengthened after the Tournament entry – all future Hogsmeade visits are hereby canceled indefinitely. Classes will continue as normal, but students are to remain strictly within castle grounds. Poppy, ensure Harry is comfortable and alert me to any lingering magical residue. Minerva, Filius, Severus I'd like to review the traces left by the device more thoroughly with you." Dumbledore gestured to a small, charred piece of twisted metal, no larger than a half-knut, lying on his desk. "The remains of the Portkey. Utterly without magical signature now, a deliberate design, no doubt."

            Severus stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the fragment. He drew his wand, a slender stream of silver light issuing from the tip as he cast several diagnostic charms. The metal glowed faintly under his spell, then fizzled, as if resisting his probes. He ran his fingers over the scorched edges, noting the faint, metallic tang of residual dark magic, but it was fleeting, almost ethereal. Minerva and Filius tried a few charms of their own, but they also found nothing remarkable.

            "The signature is burnt clean, Headmaster," Severus stated, his voice low, a frustrated edge to it. "Whoever created this device ensured that no identifying magical residue would linger after activation, or rather, after its malfunction. It's a hallmark of practiced dark magic, designed for untraceable abduction. They anticipated analysis." He waved his wand over the device one last time. "There's nothing here that points to a specific caster, nor a destination, beyond the general nature of a botched Portkey. It indicates high-level dark arts, certainly. But beyond that, it is inconclusive."

            Dumbledore's expression was grim. "As I feared. Their cunning appears to match their malice. Which only reinforces the need for extreme caution."

            Severus barely heard the rest of the Headmaster’s instructions to the others. He simply nodded curtly, a sharp, decisive movement, and strode out of the office, his cloak billowing behind him. The infirmary. He needed to see Harry. Now. He needed to verify with his own eyes that Harry was truly unharmed, and then, he needed to ensure this never happened again.

            As he arrived to the hospital wing, he found Harry sitting on a cot, his left arm bandaged from wrist to elbow, the white gauze stark against his pale skin, a faint magical sheen still visible around the dressing. Harry looked up as Severus entered, his green eyes wide with surprise, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them. Ron and Hermione were already there, and they all seemed engaged in conversation that halted abruptly when Severus entered.

            "Granger. Weasley. Leave us," Severus commanded.

            They exchanged quick, worried glances with Harry, their faces etched with uncertainty, before reluctantly shuffling out, leaving the two of them alone in the vast, quiet infirmary. The door clicked shut behind them, sealing them in a bubble of tense silence.

            Severus approached the cot, his gaze fixed on Harry’s bandaged arm, a stark reminder of how close they had come to disaster.

            "Are you still hurting, Harry? Truly? Do not equivocate. Madam Pomfrey said a few scrapes and a magically induced abrasion, but I wish to see for myself."

            Harry nodded, though his face was still pale.

            "Just . . . my arm feels a bit weird. Tingly. Madam Pomfrey said it'll be fine by morning. It was just . . . one second I was looking at a clock, the next my arm felt like it was getting pulled into a really strong vacuum. And then Flitwick was shouting and pulling, and the shop windows shattered." He paused, then looked up at Severus, his eyes holding a mixture of confusion and fear. "What happened? Flitwick said it was a Portkey. But . . . who just leaves a portkey lying around?"