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Chapter Text

Prologue.

Severus Snape, Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, sneered in disdain as he looked over the current intake of first years that were nervously shifting from foot to foot as they waited to be sorted. He suddenly smiled, however, when he saw two boys who stood together, each about four and a half feet in height and very healthy, one with red hair and the other with blond. He'd heard about the youngest Weasley boy entering Potter's compartment on the Hogwarts Express, and although he was disappointed that the brat looked nothing like his father because of a recessive gene, at least he would recognise him when the opportunity arose to punish him for the elder Potter's sins. Oh yes, he would take great pleasure in that!

It was just as Professor McGonagall called out, "Granger, Hermione!" that Snape saw a child he presumed was the Longbottom scion, a skinny and pathetic boy just under four feet tall, smaller even than the shortest girl. But then, Snape supposed that a near squib would have grown up nearly neglected in a pureblood family before his magic eventually made itself known, somewhat like the way magical children of mixed marriages were often treated by the muggle parent.

Just then, McGonagall called, "Longbottom, Neville!" and as Weasley's companion hesitantly went over to be sorted, Snape blinked in shock. So where was Potter, then?

It wasn't until "Potter, Harry!" was finally called out that Snape discovered he was the undersized, poorly nourished boy he'd written off earlier. This was the Boy Who Lived, spawn of his childhood nemesis? No wonder he hadn't recognised the scrawny piece of flesh that passed for a human child. There was absolutely nothing to suggest James Potter about him, what with his oversized glasses and dark brown hair that was tinged with copper.

At that moment, the hate that had been built up and nurtured for nearly two decades finally began to loosen its hold on the heart of Severus Tobias Snape, and then he blinked again and narrowed his eyes as he caught the faint shimmer of an obviously unconscious glamour. If Potter had been that badly treated, it was no wonder he was undersized. Snape resolved to get to the bottom of this little mystery as soon as he could. During a detention after the boy's first Potions lesson would probably be the best time.

Chapter Text

Chapter One.

Lying in bed in the Gryffindor dormitory on his first night at Hogwarts, Harry Potter thought back over his day so far. He thought he'd finally found a friend that Dudley wouldn't be able to scare away when a redheaded boy had entered the compartment he was sat in and introduced himself, especially when he'd then asked to see Harry's scar after learning his name, seeming to be in awe. It wasn't to last though, just like everything else, and Harry had no sooner purchased some delicious smelling lollipops from the sweet trolley - with some of the wizarding money he still had no real idea what he should spend on - than Ron had given him the same type of look his relatives sometimes did. A short time later, a girl with bushy brown hair had put her head round the door and asked if they'd seen a toad, and Ron had left to help her look for it, never coming back. The next time Harry had seen his erstwhile companion, it was with the boy who'd lost the toad the bushy haired girl had asked about, but Harry wasn't too upset. As his relatives had always taught him, real friends were too good for a freak like him. No, the real upset was learning that not only had Ron been sorted into the same house as him, but that he'd also been placed into the same dormitory, and was even now sleeping in the next bed behind carefully warded curtains.

Absent-mindedly running a hand through his hair, Harry sighed as he got up to go for a walk because of his inability to sleep. Perhaps if he went out for a few hours, he'd be tired enough to sleep before dawn once he returned.

✱ ✱ ✱

Patrolling the corridors of Hogwarts castle, Severus Snape was smiling inside as he relished the punishment he'd just handed the couple from Ravenclaw he'd caught in the Astronomy Tower. Really! If they were that desperate for a shag, then why not just do it in the boy's bed behind a silencing spell? Merlin knew others had done the same thing often enough during his own schooldays here, so what was so difficult about it now? Shaking his head at the apparent stupidity of those selected for their intellect, Snape continued walking for a few minutes before being brought up short by the sight of a four foot figure with messy hair walking towards him.

"Potter," he drawled, "are you not aware that it's past curfew? Or do you think the rules put in place to ensure students' safety are beneath you?"

"Nobody told me about any curfew, sir," Harry explained. "But now I know about it, I'll go straight back to bed."

"Too late, Potter," Snape began, then stopped when he saw silent tears slipping down the boy's face.

"I'm sorry, sir! I'm sorry! Only please don't send me away! I'll do anything!"

"Will you now? And why is that, hmm?" When Harry stayed silent, Snape added, "Either you tell me, or we shall see the headmaster so you can be expelled for breaking the rules."

When Harry still said nothing, Snape gripped him by his arm and began to guide him towards the headmaster's office, stopping immediately when the boy blurted out, "Okay, okay! But you have to promise not to tell anyone I told you!"

At these words, Snape's heart sank, but he made the promise, adding in the silent disclaimer that he would keep it only as long as the law allowed him to.

"I'm a disgusting freak," Harry finally said after several moments spent gathering his nerve.

"Excuse me?" Snape asked, unable to believe his ears.

"I'm a disgusting freak, sir," the boy repeated. "You're going to send me away now you know, aren't you?"

"On the contrary, I'm going to do my best to ensure you are allowed to stay here. Now tell me, why do you think you're a freak?"

"Isn't it obvious, sir? Things happen around me. Bad things like my teacher's hair changing colour, or when I ended up on the school roof during a game of Harry hunting."

"Harry hunting?" When Snape asked this, Harry gave more details, then the Potions Master explained, "Those things happened because of your accidental magic helping you. They happen to all witches and wizards when they're young, so you're certainly not a freak just because they happened to you."

"Really, sir?"

"Really."

All this time, the professor and his new pupil had been walking along the corridors of the castle until they reached the dungeons, and Harry asked, "Why are we down here, sir?"

"I simply thought you might want something to do if you're not sleepy."

"What shall I do?"

"What do you want to do?"

"Well, if you need anything cleaning, I can do that, and I don't break things anymore. I swear!"

"Pot- Harry, you don't have to clean anything here. That is the servants' job. Why don't we play Snap instead?"

"I don't like Snap," Harry muttered as he began to breathe harshly. "Bad things happen with Snap."

"All right," Snape responded. "How about chess instead?" Maybe he could get to the bottom of Harry's fear once he was able to get him sufficiently relaxed.

Chapter Text

Chapter Two.

After a rousing game of chess, which Snape won despite taking it easy on a first-timer, he asked, "Is it all right if I try something?"

"Will it hurt me?"

"It doesn't hurt anyone."

"Okay then."

Once he'd obtained Harry's consent, Snape waved his wand and wordlessly incanted, "Finite incantatem." He was unprepared for the results, however, as cuts and bruises, new and old, gradually littered the tiny body. At least there didn't seem to be any evidence of broken bones, meaning that it was probably another child who'd inflicted the damage he bore witness to.

"What did you do, sir?" Harry asked, and Snape could see something inside the child's mouth that worried him.

"Just a simple revealing spell, Harry," he answered. Then he enquired, "How long have you had fangs?"

"I don't know," came the response. "Since I was little, I suppose."

"I want to try something else," Snape said. "But it might hurt. It will definitely hurt the more you fight it."

"What, sir?"

"I'm going to use a spell to look into your mind."

Harry nodded in silent consent, and with a wordless, "Legilimens!" Snape was inside his mind.

✱ ✱ ✱

Freak had been sitting on a swing in an Aylesbury park for hours now, and he was starting to get cold, but he didn't dare move from where he was in case his aunt and uncle locked him in his cupboard and forgot about him for another two days once they'd picked him up. It was just then that a man with hair like his but without the auburn tinge approached him.

"Hello, boy," the man said, making Freak relax instantly. If the man knew his special best name, then he might know where his relatives were.

"Hello," he shyly replied. "Where's my family?"

"They're not coming back, that's why they sent me to meet you instead. I'm to take you home with me because you're my son."

"You're my daddy?" Freak was excited. His greatest wish was coming true at last! "Where's Mummy?"

"I'm sorry, boy. She died in the accident."

Freak had no way of knowing that the man had been watching him all day since his relatives had abandoned him, carefully reading his mind for any information he could use despite the risk of aurors being in the area, so he went over to him and grasped his hand, saying, "Never mind, Daddy. You've got me, now."

"So I have," the man laughed, leading the badly neglected boy from the park.

Once Daddy had taken Freak home, he'd offered his new son a bath, only to be told, "Only good boys have baths, freaks are lucky if they're allowed to be hosed down."

It was then that Daddy scared Freak by growling, "You are not a freak, and I don't want to hear you call yourself that ever again! Do you hear me?" As soon as Freak started crying, however, his daddy apologised before saying less fiercely, "Freak isn't a suitable name for a nice little boy like you. How about I call you Atari instead?"

The man had no idea what the word might mean, having seen it only on some strange device in a muggle shop full of similar objects, but it would serve very well for a boy who obviously didn't have a real name.

"I like my new name. Thank you, Daddy."

"You're welcome. Now, ready for your bath?"

"But, but..."

"Freaks might not have baths, but Ataris do. Ready?"

Atari smiled as he nodded and said, "Yes, Daddy."

"Afterwards," Daddy continued, "we'll have supper, and if you're good, I'll teach you how to play Snap."

Atari was in heaven. Not only was he to have a bath like Dudley did, but he was going to get to eat and play a game if his daddy thought he'd been good enough! He knew full well that if Daddy thought he'd been bad, no amount of being good beforehand would change that, but at least the man seemed to have already recognised that his son could be good, and was most of the time.

✱ ✱ ✱

Pulling out of Harry's mind, Snape asked, "Is playing Snap during your abduction what makes you scared to play it now?"

"I wasn't abducted, he was my dad!" came the furious response.

"Harry," Snape said gently. "Technically, you were abducted, no matter how kind the man who did it was to you, or what he called himself."

"He didn't abduct me, he adopted me after my aunt and uncle got rid of me because I was too much of a burden on them."

Snape sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. If Harry was this deep in denial, then more legilimency would be required to get the full story. He made the child drink a pain potion to ease the headache he probably had, then dived into his mind once more.

✱ ✱ ✱

Atari had only been living with his daddy for a few months, but he already fully loved and trusted him, so when he picked him up in the middle of a game of Snap and ran upstairs with him, his son bore it quietly.

"I'm sorry, Atari," Daddy murmured. "I had hoped to put this off until you were much older."

With that, he opened his mouth and sank his fangs into his son's neck, then bit his wrist before placing his wound on Atari's own. He then licked both wounds to heal them, apologising when he saw silent tears streaking the small face.

"I'm sorry, son, but I had to pass my gift on before it's too late to do so. Don't worry, it doesn't hurt for long. Now stay in here no matter what. Some very bad people are chasing me, and I don't want them to hurt you too."

With that, Daddy closed the cupboard door and turned from it only just in time as a man in robes and with a clawed wooden leg stumped into the room and killed the vampire with an incendiary spell. After a good listen around, the auror gathered his team and departed from the dwelling, leaving behind a scared and weeping four-year-old fledgeling to be, who crept from the cupboard an hour later to curl up to sleep among his daddy's ashes, and it was like this that the police found him later the same day.

Chapter Text

Chapter Three.

After Snape exited Harry's mind this time, he was so lost in thought that he didn't notice his student's question until the third time it was asked.

"Oh, sorry. I'm fine," he finally responded, handing the boy another pain potion. "Listen, Harry. Do you understand what the man you call your dad did to you?"

"Of course I do. He took me into his home and treated me in a way that no freak has a right to expect."

Snape ignored that for the moment. There would be plenty of opportunities to address it later. "That might be so, but he also abducted you with the sole purpose of turning you."

"Turning me? Turning me into what?"

"You're a vampire, Harry, and have been since you were four years old."

Harry shook his head in denial. "That's impossible, sir. Not only do vampires not exist, but they're destroyed by sunlight and holy water, neither of which has ever bothered me. What's more, vampires are undead, and I'm still breathing."

"Vampires do exist, child, and they're not destroyed by holy water because that only works on supernatural beings, which you are not; they're not undead, that's merely a muggle myth; and sunlight also won't physically harm you, although I don't understand why you've never experienced any pain from it."

"That's because I'm not a vampire, sir!"

"All right, Harry, if you insist. I need to go to bed now because it's late and I have lessons to teach in the morning. Would you like to borrow the chess set for something to do until you fall asleep?"

Harry hesitated. Did the professor really mean it? Then he saw the truth behind the 'offer'. "No thank you, sir. I can't play it by myself."

"Wizard's Chess can be played on your own. As you've seen, the pieces are enchanted to move by themselves, and so they can be used in a solo game of any level."

"Like computer chess?"

"Precisely." Snape had no idea what a computer might be, but the look in Harry's eyes informed him that it was something the boy had often longed for.

Once Harry had thanked him profusely, Snape escorted him back to Gryffindor Tower, then returned to the dungeons, once again deep in thought.

✱ ✱ ✱

Severus Snape had just left his bedroom on his way to breakfast when his fireplace flared to life behind him and a voice called out, "Severus, my boy!"

"In case it has escaped your notice, Albus," the Potions Master sneered as he turned towards the green flames, "I'm no longer a boy, but a man."

"Of course, Severus. Do forgive me, but something has come up and your services are urgently required."

"Let me guess. Yet another student saw a thestral for the first time, and I'm expected to look after them as they have passed out from the experience."

"Actually, no. Please just come to the first year Gryffindor boys' dormitory quickly, and I'll explain fully once you're there."

Making a small sound of irritation, Snape left his chambers and set off for the Gryffindor common room.

✱ ✱ ✱

As he was joined in the Gryffindor dormitory by Snape, Dumbledore greeted him gladly, then explained the issue. "It's young Mr. Potter. He refuses to leave his bed, saying that it causes him pain to do so. I called for you because you're the one he keeps asking for."

Seeing that he and the headmaster were not alone in the room, but that Professor McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey were also there, Snape sarcastically replied, "Yes, and I'm sure the overcrowding in here is really going to help him."

At this, Dumbledore gave him a startled look, but then left the room, ushering the two witches out in front of him.

Once the other adults had left the room, Snape sat on the edge of Ron Weasley's bed and said, "It's all right, they've gone now. So why won't you come out of there?"

"I tried, sir, I really did, but it just hurts too much," came the slightly muffled response.

Snape looked around in puzzlement. What did the child mean? Then all at once, he realised. Because the curtains at the windows of the dormitory were charmed to open automatically the moment that one of the sleepers first woke up in the morning, the room was now flooded with bright sunshine, a natural anathema for any vampire. Accordingly, the Potions Master closed the curtains with a flick of his wand, then said, "I've made it so you won't be hurt if you come out now, so will you?"

A rather tousled head hesitantly poked out from the curtains around Harry's bed, then the boy rushed towards Snape and flung himself into his arms, crying out, "Thank you, sir! Thank you!" Then he pulled back and stood awkwardly, apologising for what he'd just done, saying that a freak had no right to take such liberties.

Sighing inwardly, Snape replied, "It's all right, Harry. I don't mind being hugged. A need for such contact is entirely natural and understandable."

Having been given this permission, Harry climbed onto his professor's lap and snuggled up to him, murmuring, "My sire."

Snape couldn't help gasping at the strong sense of protectiveness that washed over him at these words, then he mutely wrapped his arms around the young vampire just as Dumbledore walked back into the room.

"Why is it so dark in here?" the headmaster enquired, taking out his wand to open the curtains, only to be violently shoved backwards by an invisible force as Harry opened his mouth and hissed at him. Dumbledore saw the gleam of his student's fangs and cast a lumos spell before getting back up and coming over, causing Snape's arms to tighten slightly.

"Stay away from my childe!" he snapped, drawing his own wand in preparation.

"Your childe, Severus? But how? You are not a vampire."

Dumbledore approached more slowly, and Harry, hearing the headmaster's heartbeat, stood up and crossed the floor towards the older man. There was an unconscious sway in his hips that would have been rather seductive if he'd been the intended age when he was turned, but which his sire found somewhat incongruous. Nevertheless, he allowed the hunter to stalk his prey without interference, and observed dispassionately as his childe lifted the old man's sleeve to feast from the wrist beneath it.

After healing the twin wounds in Dumbledore's wrist with a couple of licks, Harry released it, then blinked and became visibly upset, asking, "Father, why am I over here?"

"You don't know what you just did?" Snape asked.

"I only remember sitting on your lap, but feeling scared for some reason, then that's it, Father."

Harry went back to Snape, who was now sat on the edge of his childe's bed, and sat close by his sire as Dumbledore explained, "You just fed from me."

"What?" asked a horrorstruck Harry. "But I don't even need blood, I'm not a vampire!"

"You are a vampire, you do survive on blood, and you did just feed from Professor Dumbledore," Snape replied firmly. "But that's all right, it's just your nature."

Harry put his head in his hands as he wept, "The Dursleys were right, I am a disgusting, unnatural freak. I'll never win their approval now."

Dumbledore winced visibly at these words, but pulled himself together enough to say, "My boy, I believe the Dursleys should be more worried about winning your approval. Someone who is a wizard and a vampire both is a most unusual creature. You're never going back to Privet Drive if I can help it, I can promise you that much."

While Dumbledore had been speaking, Snape had taken the opportunity to cast a spell on his childe, and now he opened the curtains at the windows wandlessly and wordlessly, causing Harry to cringe until he joyfully realised something.

"It doesn't hurt anymore!"

"That's because I cast the Sol Tegminis spell on you, something your accidental magic was probably doing until I unintentionally stripped you of its protection last night. Now let's go. Professor Dumbledore and I have already missed breakfast, and I have a class to teach."

With that, all three wizards left the room, Snape guiding Harry to his first lesson of the day as Dumbledore departed to his own tower.

Chapter Text

Chapter Four.

At lunch, Professors Dumbledore and Snape were discussing Harry.

"I've been thinking it over, Albus," the Potions Master said, "and I believe Harry was forced to repress his true nature so forcefully that he hid it even from himself, leading to some kind of dissociative disorder."

"Which might explain what happened to Arabella's cats," Dumbledore replied.

"Why, what happened to them?"

"Over the years, each was found dead with small holes in its neck, and they had been exsanguinated. Naturally, because this occurred in the area in which Mr. Potter resided, the Order set out on a hunt for the vampire at once in case the creature presented a danger to him, but no trace was ever discovered."

"Because the vampire was Harry himself. I suppose I shall have to pay a visit to Little Whinging."

"Oh? Why is that?"

"Harry's my childe, and because of that, it's my duty to apologise for his behaviour as a fledgeling."

"But you weren't his sire until just a few hours ago," Dumbledore pointed out.

"Nevertheless, I am now, and it is therefore my duty."

Just then, a disturbance broke out at the Gryffindor table, and once he'd taken in the situation, Snape got up and went over after asking Hagrid for his aid.

✱ ✱ ✱

So far that day, Harry had rather enjoyed himself. After double Herbology with Professor Sprout, he'd then had History of Magic with Professor Binns before attending Charms, which was taught by Professor Flitwick, a man who was shorter than any Harry had ever seen before. Then he'd gone to the Great Hall for lunch, and was busy tucking into a small pile of rare steaks and a few vegetables when Ron Weasley, who was sitting next to him, picked up the wrong goblet. To be fair to the red-headed boy, this was a pure accident caused by the fact that drinking vessels were placed to the left of place settings at his home, and were on the right at Hogwarts, but this made no difference to Harry's vampiric instincts, and within seconds, he had Weasley up against the wall by his throat, his right hand holding the other's wrist in an unbreakable grip.

Panicked by the fact that someone so much smaller than himself had him in such a position, Weasley blurted, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" then dropped the goblet, spilling its contents over the floor.

Harry was at first dismayed by the loss of his blood disguised as pumpkin juice, then he knew nothing as he sank his fangs into Weasley's neck and began to feed to replace it just before somebody pulled him away.

✱ ✱ ✱

The moment Harry was in Hagrid's arms, he kicked and struggled to get free, then immediately ceased his fight when the half-giant opened his wrist with a knife and brought it in front of him, allowing him to guzzle the life bearing fluid.

"There, there, yeh poor creature. Tha's better, isn' it?"

Harry finished and healed the wound before coming back to himself, then he called for his sire, who immediately picked him up and checked him over.

The moment he knew his childe was safe and whole, Snape said, "Ten points from Gryffindor and detention this evening for attacking a fellow student, Mr. Potter, and a further twenty points with a week's detention for instigating it, Mr. Weasley. You've already been warned twice about taking food from your housemates' dishes, so there's no excuse."

"But, sir-" Weasley tried to protest, only to be cut off.

"Make that two weeks. With Filch!"

Snape started to follow Hagrid back to the head table, then when he noticed that the entire body of students had taken in the sight of his tenderness towards the child of his enemy with dropped jaws, he snapped, "Yes, I can be kind to students when it is warranted. Now either get back to eating or leave the hall!"

With that, Snape finally sat back down and resumed his meal, muttering all the while about 'foolish children who can do nothing but gawp at an everyday occurrence', and Dumbledore chuckled inwardly, knowing that with this particular man, said occurrence was anything but everyday. He said nothing, however, so as not to rile the Potions Master up further.

✱ ✱ ✱

Transfiguration was the highlight of Harry's afternoon. Realising that he no longer had to hold back so as not to show Dudley up, he'd made a great effort at turning a match into a needle, then basked in the praise from Professor McGonagall for it being the second-best in that lesson, despite the fact that it still looked mostly like a metal matchstick. He avoided Defence Against the Dark Arts altogether because of an instinctive fear of Professor Quirrel, which he'd had ever since he'd first met the man at the Leaky Cauldron in London, but he was amongst the first to show up for Potions, his favourite lesson because his sire was the teacher.

Severus Snape looked over the first years sitting in his class, then said, "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic." Although he didn't raise his voice above its normal volume, even the students at the back of the classroom were able to hear him clearly because the way he spoke induced them to listen. "I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even put a stopper in death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

The Potions Master next asked some questions which only a few students were able to answer, Hermione Granger foremost amongst them, then he began to sort them into pairs.

"Longbottom, as you seem to be so inept at even the basic task of choosing your friends, I will select one for you. You're with Potter."

"Yes, sir," Neville replied, moving to sit next to Harry. As soon as he was seated on the second stool at the workbench, he then said, "Weasley's going around telling everyone that you're a vampire and Snape's your father. Is it true?"

"Which part?" Harry asked, amused. Then he said, "Yes, I'm a vampire, apparently, but Professor Snape's not my father, he's my sire. I only call him Father because sire seems like the wrong word to use when addressing him directly."

"Oh," Neville breathed, his eyes wide. Then he said, "You're really special, you know."

"Really?"

"Yes. According to my grandmother, there's a prophecy that a vampire wizard will unite the magical world in harmony, and you're the first in centuries because vampires are so strongly regulated."

"Why's that?"

However, Neville was unable to say any more right then, because just at that moment, Snape cut in with, "Perhaps you could better prevent your cauldrons exploding if you kept your minds on your potions instead of what the members of your particular cliques are getting up to. Less chattering, please, Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Potter!"

At this, Neville mouthed an apology, but Harry just shrugged and grinned at him before carrying on with preparing the ingredients for their potion. He was actually grateful to his sire for pulling them up so publicly because it proved to all the other students that he was capable of making friends, despite the fact that he was a freak in the magical world as well as the muggle one.

✱ ✱ ✱

At the end of the lesson, when Granger handed in her vial of potion, Snape took one look at it and pronounced it acceptable. Harry was outraged.

"That potion's better than Malfoy's, perfect even, and you gave him points!" he exclaimed.

The Potions Master was about to remonstrate with his childe when the injustice of his own actions suddenly struck him.

"You're quite right, Mr. Potter. Miss Granger, I apologise. That is an excellently brewed potion. Take fifteen points for Gryffindor."

At this, such a buzz of consternation arose amongst the students that Snape had to shout for silence, glaring at them until the last vial had been handed in and the classroom was empty at last.

Chapter Text

Chapter Five.

During the hour and a half before dinner, Fred and George Weasley approached Harry in the library, where he and Neville had sat to do their prep.

"We've heard that Snape,"
"is a vampire."
"Is it true?"

Harry snorted as he replied, "Whoever told you that needs to check their facts."

"So he's not,"
"your sire, then?"

"He's my second sire, my first was killed just after turning me."

"He's adopted you?" the twins asked together.

"Yes," Harry replied. This was the simplest answer.

"OK. We'll go and,"
"tell Ronniekins,"
"that Snape's human."

Harry nodded as the twins departed. He'd guessed that Weasley had been the one to tell them about him and his sire as he knew they were his brothers not just from their looks, but also from their smell.

"Are you sure you wanted to give the Weasley twins that information?" Neville asked in a worried tone.

"Of course," Harry responded. "Better that they get the full facts from me than go off on half-truths and confabulations provided by Weasley."

Neville conceded the veracity of this statement, and both boys had just turned back to their Potions essays when Hermione Granger showed up.

"Hi, can I work with you? This seems to be the quietest area of the library."

Neville looked around to verify that the young witch was correct in her assertion. Sure enough, there were groups of students standing about and gossiping to each other in the whispers that Madame Pince insisted on. Harry, on the other hand, was able to sense a few other pockets of silence in the large room, so wondered what Granger's ulterior motive was, deciding to try and find out.

"You can if Neville doesn't mind," the vampire said.

"Actually, Harry," Neville responded, "it's entirely your decision because of your status."

"But I'm not the only one sitting here, and I can't speak for you. It isn't fair."

"Really?"

"Really. I know what it's like to have your say taken from you by someone simply because they're considered to be better than you."

"I don't mind, Granger," Neville said at last.

Having finally been granted permission, Granger gratefully sat down and pulled out some ink, quills, and parchment before indicating the pile of books on the table.

"The other reason I wanted to sit here," she said, "is you have all the books I was looking for, and I also want to thank you for what you said in Potions."

At this, Harry relaxed. So that was the bushy-haired witch's intent. Well, he didn't mind that at all. With that thought, he grinned, and Granger stiffened slightly as she caught sight of his fangs.

"Why do you have fangs?"

"Because I'm a vampire."

"You're joking. I was taught that vampires don't exist!"

"Yeah, they don't. I suck other people's blood just for kicks and giggles."

"I think maybe you were taught wrongly," Neville interrupted. "By muggles, right?"

"Yes. I'm muggle born."

"You know, I think my grandmother would like you," Neville noted thoughtfully. "But I don't know if that's because she truly believes in blood equality, or if it's simply because she hates You-Know-Who so much." He stuck out his hand. "I'm Neville Longbottom, by the way."

"Hermione Jean Granger. Pleased to meet you. And you are? Apart from a vampire, I mean."

Harry couldn't repress a small chuckle at this. Like him, Hermione had been taught that there were no such things as vampires, yet she'd obviously accepted the fact of his existence a lot faster than he had.

"I'm Harry Potter," he said, ignoring the witch's proffered hand and instead bowing slightly.

Hermione looked askance at him, but replied, "I've read all about you. In every book that mentions you, they call you the 'Boy-Who-Lived'. They didn't say you'd become a vampire, though."

"Maybe because they didn't know. Even I didn't fully realise until today, and I wasn't informed by my sire until yesterday."

"Is your sire Professor Snape?" Hermione asked, and when Harry answered in the affirmative, she continued, "That explains why he listened to you in class then."

After this, the three got on with their essays, having them only a third completed by the time the bell rang to summon them to dinner.

✱ ✱ ✱

At dinner, Harry had a pile of rare lamb chops along with a few potato croquettes and more vegetables, and his goblet of disguised blood was right where it should be. Just to be sure, the young vampire checked to see where Weasley had sat, and was relieved to see him several spaces down on the opposite side of the table.

The red-headed boy's experience at lunch had clearly taught him his lesson, as he reached out with his left hand only a few times, and every time he did, he immediately pulled it back again before picking up his goblet with his right. He also didn't take food from his neighbours' plates after he'd finished eating, but simply sat quietly, glumly looking down at his own.

"You know, Ronald," one of his older brothers' voices suddenly cut into his thoughts. "If you're still hungry, you can just get more food."

"Isn't that against Hogwarts' rules, Percy?" Ron responded.

"Why do you think that?"

"Because Fred and George-"

"Do you remember when those two told you that the sky and the ground were actually reversed because they'd magicked them that way?"

Ron did indeed remember that incident, although he'd only been five years old at the time, and he replied in the affirmative.

"So you shouldn't believe anything they tell you without first having the information verified by someone without a reputation for pranking, Ronald."

"So how do I get more food?"

"Just ask, the house-elves will provide you with what you need."

As Percy strode back to his seat further up the table, Ron said, "I'd like seconds."

Once another two sausages and a smaller pile of mash than he'd eaten before appeared on his plate, all covered with onion gravy, the red-headed wizard happily dug in, glad that he'd learned of this. His favourite pudding was being served that day.

Chapter Text

Chapter Six.

Once he'd finished his pudding, Harry stood up from the table and shouldered his bag, prompting Hermione to ask him where he was going.

"I have a detention with Professor Snape," he explained, causing Neville to suck air between his teeth in sympathy.

"Good luck," the chubby blond-haired boy said. "I've heard that with him, you're lucky if you're scrubbing cauldrons for only a few hours."

Harry nodded and turned from the table, looking glum, but in his heart, he was rejoicing. Now he had an opportunity to show off exactly how useful he could be, and thus persuade Professor Snape to keep him on despite his freakishness!

✱ ✱ ✱

Severus Snape was sitting at his desk in the Potions classroom when he heard a knock at the door.

"Enter!" he called out, and the door opened to reveal his childe's nervously smiling face. "Hello, Harry," he then said. "Please come and sit by me."

Harry crossed to the chair near his sire's own and sat on it obediently, then asked, "What's my detention, sir?"

"Actually, this isn't detention, so there's no need for formality," Snape answered. "I only said I was giving you detention so others wouldn't believe I was letting you off without punishment, even though the events at lunchtime were in no way your fault. With that in mind, I award ten points to Gryffindor for your punctuality. That should wipe out those I had to take unjustly. Now, I'd like to look into your mind to find out what happened after your return to Privet Drive when you were four, if I may."

After Harry hesitantly nodded his head, Snape muttered the necessary spell, then was inside his childe's mind once again.

✱ ✱ ✱

Startled awake by someone shaking him, Atari sat up and rubbed his eyes before seeing who it was, then asked in an awed voice, "Do you work with Juliet Bravo?"

"No, son," came the answer. "That's just a telly programme. What's your name?"

After giving the requested information, Atari noticed the blue lights that were strobing across the wall opposite the window for the first time, and he asked what they were.

"They're the lights on top of a fire engine. Do you want to see it?"

"No, I want my daddy!" Atari stated, bursting into tears.

"Where is your daddy, Atari?" the police officer asked, becoming visibly startled when the child pointed to the pile of greasy ashes he'd been sleeping in. "All right," he continued. "Let's get you safely out of here."

Atari took the man's hand and allowed him to lead him from the room and out of the house to an area car. He was cleaned up as much as possible by the police officer, then handed a teddy bear and wrapped in a blanket before being placed on the back seat of the vehicle. As the car moved towards the police station, Atari once again fell asleep.

✱ ✱ ✱

At this point, unbeknownst to both Harry and Snape, Draco Malfoy walked into the room to speak to his godfather. After entering, the first year Slytherin took in the scene before him, then left once again to report a non-consensual use of Legilimency.

Several minutes after Draco had left the room, Dumbledore entered it, and seeing the other two males still gazing deeply into each other's eyes, quietly sat at one of the workbenches to wait and observe.

✱ ✱ ✱

Atari was chattering away quite happily to PC Darren Michaels, the man who had taken him from his home, when he suddenly fell quiet and clutched his teddy bear more tightly at the sight of the large, blond-haired man who entered the room.

"Hello, Harry," Vernon Dursley said. "We've been very worried about you. Are you ready to come home with us? Petunia and Dudley are waiting in the car."

When his uncle had first started speaking, Atari had been confused by his apparent change in attitude, but as he carried on, hope lit up in the small boy's heart that maybe his freakishness had gone away and things would be different from now on. He stood up and grasped his uncle's proffered hand, waited while Vernon thanked PC Michaels for finding his nephew so quickly, then walked with him from the building.

Atari was very happy on the journey to Privet Drive. Dudley hadn't demanded his new teddy, and his aunt and uncle were being nicer to him than he could ever remember them being before. All that changed once they were inside, however.

Grasping Atari's arm, Vernon took him to his cupboard and pushed him inside, saying, "You can stay in there for a week, and you'll be very lucky if you get any food with all the trouble you've put us to by getting yourself found, boy! Now I have to wash my hands clean of your filth."

Lying down on his old cot mattress, Atari sobbed silently as he hugged the lifeless animal that would be his only companion until he started school in a few months' time. Even then there was no guarantee that Dudley would allow him to make any friends. After all, freaks didn't deserve to associate with real people.

✱ ✱ ✱

Almost half-asleep by this point, Dumbledore heard the door of the Potions classroom quietly creak open as Professor McGonagall entered, and he hastily put his finger to his lips when she opened her mouth to say something, prompting her to whisper her next utterance.

"Hello, Headmaster. What's going on?"

"Apparently, Professor Snape is using Legilimency without consent, so I'm waiting until he's finished so I can ask him about it."

"And is it true that he's adopted young Mr. Potter?"

"Well, from all appearances, I would say they have adopted each other."

At that, the deputy headmistress sat down to wait with her superior until the two on the platform had finished.

✱ ✱ ✱

"And what did you think you were doing climbing onto the roof?" Mrs. Harris almost shrieked at her most troublesome pupil.

Boy winced. It was only his second year at St. Gregory's Primary School, and this was his twenty-eighth time in trouble if his count was correct.

"I swear, child, you're going to turn my hair blue one day!" the teacher finished.

Boy couldn't help smiling. What would Mrs. Harris look like with blue hair? He suddenly let out a giggle as his vision was realised, and the teacher asked him what he was laughing at.

"Your hair's already blue, Mrs. Harris!" Boy exclaimed, laughing harder.

The teacher went to the nearest window to check her reflection, then screamed and ran from the room, causing Boy's laughter to become so hysterical that tears began rolling down his cheeks.

Aunt Petunia almost threw Boy into his cupboard, screeching, "And you can stay in there until tomorrow!"

At this, Uncle Vernon asked, "What did the little freak do today, Pet?"

"He got himself up on the school roof with his freakishness, then when his teacher was discussing it with him, he turned her hair blue. Not only that, but he actually laughed at what he did!"

On the way back to Privet Drive, Boy had tried in vain to explain that perhaps the wind had blown him onto the chimney of St. Gregory's, and he had no idea how Mrs. Harris' hair had turned blue, but it had looked so funny that no one could help laughing. Unfortunately, however, Aunt Petunia wasn't having any of it, and she had said that Boy would be dealt with as she'd dragged him along the streets by the jumper of his oversized school uniform, striding so rapidly he had to almost run to keep up with her.

Just then, Boy's musing was interrupted by Vernon's snarl of, "Make that until school starts again, boy. Without food!"

By the time Aunt Petunia unlocked the door to his cupboard to tell him to get ready for school, Boy was feeling rather weak from hunger and dehydration. He hadn't realised there would be a bank holiday resulting in him spending over three days locked up instead of two, but he wasn't as hungry as he thought he should be, surprisingly enough.

"I've just come off the phone with Mrs. Figg," Boy heard Uncle Vernon say. "Seems one of her cats has gone missing. I don't suppose you had anything to do with it, did you, boy?"

Boy wanted to laugh at the utter stupidity of the suggestion that he was able to do anything whilst locked in his cupboard, but he was far too fresh from the consequences of the last time he had laughed at anything, so he simply shook his head and said, "No, Uncle Vernon, I didn't."

"I don't believe you. I'll bet you used your freakishness to... to kill the creature! Well, you can spend the next two days in your cupboard for that, and another day for lying about it. Let that be a lesson to you, you filthy freak!"

As he took in these words, Boy planned his campaign of action. He knew better than to steal from packed lunches by now, but he could raid the school bins during the playtimes after lunchtime and in the afternoon. On top of which, he would get two helpings of milk during playtime in the morning because his old teacher, Miss Jones, liked him. When she'd begun doing this on the first day of the previous school year, Boy had thought that Dudley or a member of his gang was going to complain to the elder Dursleys, especially as they were restricted to the same amount as all the other children, but they had all kept quiet about the situation, much to Boy's surprise.

Now having made his plans for the day, Boy walked to the kitchen to make breakfast for his relatives, hoping to cook well enough despite his weakness that he would be allowed a few of the scraps to eat.

Chapter Text

Chapter Seven.

The moment Snape had left Harry's mind again, he pulled his childe onto his lap and stroked his hair, murmuring, "I'm so sorry you had to go through all that. I swear that if anyone tries to make you go back to those sorry excuses for human beings, I'll rescue you immediately and make sure they suffer deeply for what they've done."

Overwhelmed by this, the young vampire felt the first tears he could ever remember shedding rolling down his cheeks, then he buried his face into Snape's chest just before breaking out into racking sobs, his sire's arms instinctively tightening around him, McGonagall much surprised at this display of tenderness towards a student by the normally irascible Potions Master.

At this point, Dumbledore made his presence known by clearing his throat, and Snape stiffened before relaxing again as he recognised the headmaster and deputy headmistress.

"Harry's not going back to those damnable Dursleys!" the Potions Master snarled, thinking that was what his superiors were there to discuss.

"It's all right, Severus," Dumbledore said in a soothing tone. "I already promised the boy that, and I meant it. Now, what's this I hear about a non-consensual use of Legilimency?"

"It was never non-consensual, I always obtained Harry's full consent."

"Is that true, Harry?" Dumbledore asked softly.

His crying having finally ceased, Harry looked up at his sire. "Father?" he queried in a confused voice.

"It's all right, childe, you may answer the question."

"My sire always asks before looking in my head, and he only does it to see the memories he needs to that I've forgotten."

"All right, that's the end of that, then," Dumbledore chuckled. "I believe there was something you wished to say, Minerva?"

"Yes, there is. I had Professor Quirrel approach me earlier to say that you failed to attend his class, Mr. Potter. Is that true?"

"I don't like him," Harry said in a low voice. "He scares me."

"How does he scare you?"

"He's dark and he smells bad."

"Oh, of course!" Dumbledore suddenly interjected. "The garlic. Well, I'll see if I can't get Professor Quirrel to stop wearing it for you."

"No, it's not the garlic, that doesn't bother me at all. It's what I can smell underneath it that's so creepy."

Professor Dumbledore was both shocked and perplexed. If a vampire wasn't bothered by the smell of garlic, then that meant it was ineffective at warding them off and Professor Quirrel was obviously wearing it for some other reason. But what?

"All right, Harry," he finally said. "I'll find out what the problem is and solve it if you promise to attend all your classes from now on."

"No!" Snape snarled just then. "If my childe doesn't want to be taught by any given professor, then he has a very good reason and he's not going to attend their classes. I forbid it!"

"How is Harry supposed to learn Defence Against the Dark Arts if he doesn't attend, Severus?"

"I shall teach him what his classmates are learning."

"But..."

"I know I have no experience in teaching that class," Snape said, forestalling what was probably Dumbledore's true argument. "However, if Quirrel is willing to provide me with his lesson plans, I'm sure I will be able to manage until alternative arrangements are made."

"Very well," Dumbledore acquiesced just as Harry snuggled more closely against his sire and murmured, "Thank you, Father."

"Don't you think you're a bit old to be sitting on somebody's lap, a great lad of eleven like you?" Professor McGonagall asked, completely ignoring Dumbledore's shocked bark of "Minerva!"

As a result of the deputy headmistress' actions, something occurred that few humans had ever witnessed before. As Harry opened his mouth in the hissing snarl that was his usual reaction to any threat, his emerald green eyes turned blood red with anger, his grip on his sire's robes tightening so he couldn't be pulled away.

"So it's true," Professor McGonagall gasped in shock when she saw her smallest lion's fangs. "Albus did tell me, but I could hardly credit it."

"Before I became Harry's sire," Snape said, "he rarely knew an affectionate touch. So if he wishes to make up for lost time with me, I will allow him to do so in whatever way he feels is best."

"Thank you, Severus," Dumbledore said. "It's very important that Harry learns how to love, and I can think of no one more deserving of his natural affections than you."

"Thank you, headmaster," Snape replied, waiting until his superiors had left the Potions classroom so he could carry his childe into his quarters and hunt for the old copy of 'The Tales of Beedle the Bard' he knew was on one of his shelves somewhere.

✱ ✱ ✱

"But from that day forward, the wizard helped the villagers like his father before him, lest the pot cast off its slipper and begin to hop once more."

After reading the last line of 'The Wizard and the Hopping Pot', Snape closed 'Beedle the Bard' and said, "Right, young man. It's time you left for your supper."

"Oh. Will I get more meat like today's to eat, Father?" Harry asked in response.

"You like it that much, do you?" When the vampire made no reply to this, the Potions Master then asked, "Is something wrong? You can tell me, you know that."

"I actually prefer meat like I ate yesterday, Father. I only ever ate it like it was today at the Dursleys, and that was only to make sure I did eat."

"Really? How so?"

"I had to do all the cooking, and sometimes I would make sure some meat and vegetables were underdone so I'd be given them. I probably wouldn't have eaten at all some days, otherwise."

"I see. I'll have a word with the house elves for you. Now, back to the Gryffindor common room with you."

"Yes, Father. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

"Oh, Father?"

"Yes, childe?"

"Will I see you at breakfast tomorrow?"

Snape hesitated. He preferred to eat exclusively in his quarters once the first day of lessons was over. Then he swiftly made up his mind and said, "Yes, Harry. I shall be at the head table just as I was today."

At that, Harry flung himself into Snape's arms, and sire and childe engaged in their first real hug before finally parting for the evening.

✱ ✱ ✱

Severus was dancing with his best friend, Lily Evans, at his first ever Yule Ball. After two waltzes and a foxtrot, Lily said she needed a rest, so she and Severus went over to the buffet table to get goblets of pumpkin juice. They were both drinking thirstily when Lily, for no apparent reason, began incessantly tugging on Severus' sleeve.

✱ ✱ ✱

"For Merlin's sake, what is it?" Snape demanded, blinking groggily as he was pulled from his dream.

"I'm sorry, Father, but I can't sleep," came a familiar voice.

"Harry? Oh. Why can't you sleep?"

"I don't know. I tried and tried, but I just can't!"

"Well, why don't you go on back to bed and play chess or something, hmm?"

"I tried that, but it just isn't working. I even made it quiet like Neville taught me, but I still can't get sleepy. Can I sleep with you?"

"Very well, if you must, but just this once, do you hear? Wait, is that the only nightwear you possess?"

Looking down at his hugely oversized and heavily stained pyjamas, Harry gave a shamefaced nod, deeply embarrassed by having to wear his obese cousin's castoffs.

Taking his wand from under his pillow, Snape cast a measuring spell on his childe, then summoned one of his nightshirts from his wardrobe before shrinking it to fit the boy's small frame. After doing this, he handed the garment over and instructed Harry to change in the bathroom, pointing towards the door of it as he did so. Harry emerged just a few minutes later, leading his sire to ask, "Didn't you even have a wash?"

"I don't know how," came the diffident response.

Snape could have kicked himself in that instant. Of course Harry wouldn't know how to wash himself if he was used to being hosed down instead of having a real wash.

As he turned down the covers of the bed so that his childe could get in, the Potions Master said, "I'll teach you how to have a shower in the morning."

"Thank you, Father," came the surprisingly sleepy response just before Harry yawned, his eyes closing as he snuggled against the Potions Master.

Once again grasping his wand, Snape muttered, "Aevum ostensus," then gasped in surprise at the time displayed before him. Harry must have tried to sleep very hard indeed if he'd waited until around quarter to three in the morning before seeking out his sire.

Chapter Text

Chapter Eight.

Waking up covered in sweat, Snape sat up to recover from his dream of the Marauders. Well, a nightmare really, if the pounding of his heart was anything to go by. All of a sudden, he felt movement that wasn't his own, and he snatched his wand from under his pillow and pointed it at the place the movement had come from before realising what it was.

"By Merlin," he swore. "I'm so sorry, childe."

Beside Snape in the bed, Harry Potter slept on unheedingly as the Potions Master put his wand away again before getting up to use the toilet, soon coming back to check the time and awaken his childe.

"Harry. Harry! Wake up, it's seven o'clock."

"Mmf! Do I have to? I'm still sleepy."

"Yes, I'm afraid you do have to if you want me to have the time to teach you how to use the shower."

The young vampire lay there blinking for a few seconds, then jumped up, crying out, "I'm up, Father! I'm up!" before standing over the waste paper bin in a corner of the room and hiking up the front of the nightshirt he wore.

"What are you doing, childe?"

"Um, using the bucket?" Harry replied, confused. He was supposed to use the bucket, wasn't he?

Somehow hiding his disgust at the adult Dursleys as well as his horror at the situation they'd created, Snape simply said, "You don't have to use a bucket anymore, Harry. You may use the toilet whenever you need to relieve yourself."

Smiling broadly, Harry entered the bathroom, coming out in a time that told Snape he hadn't washed his hands this time, either.

"Once I have taught you how to wash yourself, you will have to remember to wash your hands after using the toilet from now on," the Potions Master stated before calling for a house-elf. "Will you fetch Mr. Potter's uniform, shoes, and a pair of his socks and underwear for him? I believe he'll also need a new toothbrush and washbag."

"Yes, Master Snape. Right away, Master Snape," the house-elf said before disappearing with a loud crack, soon returning with the requested items in its arms, apparating again once it had discharged its load and been thanked.

After this, Snape took Harry into the bathroom and started the shower before stripping, startled by his childe's question of, "Why do you look different, Father?"

"What do you mean?"

"You look different. You're all hairy and your bits are much bigger than mine."

"I see. Well, this is what all boys grow to look like as they become men."

"Really? Why?"

"Because when people are adults, they can have children, but children themselves are too young. So children are born with small genitals because they aren't really needed, then at a certain time, they grow to be ready for when they are needed."

"Oh. Will I have children one day?"

"I see no reason why not. Now, into the shower with you!"

After the shower, Snape taught Harry how to brush his teeth, then, with towels wrapped around their waists, they returned to the bedroom where the Potions Master looked through his childe's clothing.

"What, in Merlin's name, wore these before they were passed on to you?" he asked, holding up the underpants. "A juvenile blue whale?"

At this, Harry fell into a helpless fit of the giggles. That was almost exactly what he had always thought!

"Th-they were my cousin's," he finally managed to gasp. "I was never allowed new clothes because it was so expensive to buy them for just one child, never mind two."

Snape made up his mind to speak to Dumbledore. He knew that Harry's relatives had received a monthly allowance to defray his expenses, but they had obviously done something else with the money. The Gringotts goblins would also likely be interested to learn about the obvious fraud that had taken place. After thinking these things, the Potions Master summoned some of his own things before resizing them.

"Here you are, childe, you may borrow these along with the nightshirt until I can take you to buy your own at the weekend."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

At that, Harry flung himself at his sire, crying out, "Thank you, Father! Thank you."

"That's all right, just get dressed now."

✱ ✱ ✱

It was five to eight by the time Snape left his quarters, hand in hand with his childe. He personally thought that Harry was far too old for this as well as some of his other behaviours, but he was keeping his promise regardless, well aware of the reasons for the vampire's psychological immaturity. He locked and warded his door, then hesitated as a sudden thought occurred to him. Just how had his childe got through his wards that morning? Determined to ask Dumbledore if he might know, the Potions Master set off for the Great Hall.

✱ ✱ ✱

Dumbledore pondered Snape's question for several minutes, then finally said, "Well, I suppose it's possible that your wards recognise Harry as your kin, despite the fact that no official adoption took place."

"I see. Do you also happen to know why I had to ask the house-elves in the kitchens to stop serving him rare meat?"

"I was told that's what vampires eat."

"Really? By whom, may I ask?"

"Professor Quirrell informed me."

"I see. Did it not occur to you to ask Harry directly rather than taking a human's word for it? A human who, if you recall, returned from his sojourn to Albania with rather an extreme phobia of vampires. Whatever happened, I don't believe that Quirrell spent enough time around vampires to learn the slightest piece of information about them."

"I would have thought that Professor Quirrell's fear was a result of at least some amount of time spent amongst vampires," Dumbledore said. "However, I take your point and will ask Harry himself about his preferences in the future."

"Thank you," Snape said. "Now, about Harry's finances..."

While Snape was talking to Dumbledore, his childe saw him and waved happily. Noticing this, the Potions Master raised his hand slightly, and Harry grinned hugely at Neville and Hermione, who were sitting on either side of him.

✱ ✱ ✱

In the early hours of the next morning, Snape was woken again.

"Hmm? Whassit?" he slurred, rapidly coming to full consciousness when he saw who it was.

"Father, I can't sleep again. May I please sleep with you?"

Without a word, Snape lifted the covers, then once Harry was snuggled against him, stroked his childe's hair until he fell asleep once again.

Chapter Text

Chapter Nine.

Compared to his experiences until he was eleven, Harry's first week of school was a very happy one. Not only was he accepted for who he was by most people, he even had two best friends to whom the fact that he was a freak with fangs didn't seem to matter. Not only that, but on Friday morning, an owl had delivered a letter from the first ever person he'd met from the Wizarding World.

The note said the following:
Dear Harry,
I know you get weekends off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me on Saturday around three?
I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig.
Hagrid.

Now, during breakfast on the following morning, the young vampire felt jubilant. Not only did he have the visit to Hagrid's hut to look forward to, but today was also the day that his sire was taking him shopping for the first new underwear and socks he had ever worn. He really hoped for two sets of clothing, but even just one would be a luxury since no one else would have worn it before and it would fit properly.

"Mr. Potter," a female voice suddenly broke into his thoughts, "you're with me today."

Harry nodded his head and grinned at Professor McGonagall in reply. Because of the initial rapid healing of the injuries inflicted on his childe by Dudley and his gang of little thugs, and the slowing of that rate of healing once he was entirely on blood from goblets, Snape had quickly realised that fresh blood was important, and had thus changed Harry's schedule to feeding from a member of the teaching staff once daily, with his suppertime blood replaced with a nutrient potion to help him catch up in size to his age-mates somewhat.

Just then, Hermione asked, "Don't you want some of this delicious black pudding, Harry?"

"Ugh, no! It's dead blood."

"What do you mean?" Neville enquired.

"Black pudding's made from blood and oats mixed together, then put into a sausage skin and cooked, which kills the blood."

"So why don't you like it? Would it hurt you?" Normally, Neville would have been disgusted at the thought of what his favourite food was made from, but what he'd learnt just prior was simply too fascinating to ignore.

"No, it wouldn't, but it doesn't taste very nice. Kind of what chalk tastes like."

After that, the conversation turned to more general topics, then breakfast was over and Harry left to meet his sire.

✱ ✱ ✱

Harry listened impatiently to Snape's instructions, then took a pinch of the glittering silvery powder, flung it into the fire, and watched it turn green before stepping into it.

"Diagon Alley!" his high voice declared, and he disappeared with a whoosh.

"Oh, dear," Dumbledore noted. "He said that rather quickly, didn't he? You'd best follow straightaway in case he gets himself into any trouble, Severus."

Taking a pinch of floo powder himself, the Potions Master followed his childe.

✱ ✱ ✱

Feeling as if he was spinning very fast while being sucked down a giant drain, Harry tried to keep his eyes open, although the whirl of green flames made him feel sick while the roaring in his ears almost deafened him. The vampire tucked in his elbows when he felt something hard knock one of them, then there was a series of cold slaps to his face as a stream of fireplaces whizzed past. Harry squeezed his eyes shut more tightly, wishing it would all stop, then he fell headfirst onto a cold stone floor, the bridge of his glasses snapping upon impact.

Dizzy and sore, Harry got to his feet as carefully as he could, then held his glasses to his face so he could look around at his new surroundings. He seemed to be alone in a shop of some kind, and he was glad of this because the place felt extremely creepy. Within a glass case nearby, there was a withered hand on a cushion, a bloodstained pack of cards, and a staring glass eye. The walls were bedecked with evil-looking masks, an assortment of human bones lay upon a counter, and rusty, spiked instruments hung low enough from the ceiling to threaten the head of any unwary witch or wizard who passed beneath them. All of these emanated a dark aura, and the young vampire wanted to get away from them as quickly as possible.

Swiftly but silently, Harry crept to the door and eased it open, then when a jangling bell heralded his exit, he took to his heels as quickly as he could, soon becoming lost in the unfamiliar area. He wandered around for a while, then he heard a voice addressing him.

"Hello, boy. Are you lost?"

Harry whipped around and assessed the woman carefully. Unlike most of the people in this place, while she seemed to be dark, there was no air of evil around her at all, and he gained confidence from this.

"I'm supposed to be in Diagon Alley," he replied, "but I got out at the wrong fireplace, and now I don't know where I am."

"Ah, I can help you. Follow me."

Somewhat nervously, Harry followed the friendly stranger along several alleys until he was outside Borgin and Burkes again, then they went up a broad street, at the end of which, the woman stopped.

"That's where you wanted to be," she stated, pointing through a gate. "Since you were travelling by floo, you probably should have ended up at the Leaky Cauldron, just down this street here."

The woman gave some directions, and after thanking her, Harry asked where he'd ended up.

"You were in Knockturn Alley. Remember that well, as it's not a good place for young wizards to be in at the best of times."

"I guessed that," Harry said. Then he added, "Thanks again," before finally turning away to find his way to the pub.

Chapter Text

Chapter Ten.

Stepping out of the fireplace in the taproom of the Leaky Cauldron, Snape declined the pub landlord's usual offer to pour his potential customer a drink before immediately asking Tom if he had seen his childe.

"No, sir," came the answer. "The last time I saw Mr. Potter was at the end of July. Why? Nothing's happened to the young man, has it?"

Not deigning to answer fully, the Potions Master simply gave a terse jerk of his head to indicate the negative as he sat down at the nearest table, only to get up again less than a minute later. He walked to the door and pulled it open to check outside, then returned to his seat. He got up many times over the next several minutes, then when Harry finally entered the door from Diagon Alley, his sire became angry.

"Where were you?" he nearly shouted. "Don't you ever disappear on me like that again!"

"I'm sorry, Father," Harry sobbed with his own ebbing anxiety. "I swear I didn't mean to get lost."

"That's all right," Snape soothed, his anger melting away into relief. "I was just so worried about what might have happened to you."

At that, the young vampire related his experiences in Knockturn Alley, especially about the woman who'd helped him.

"You were very lucky, you know," Snape remarked. "Not everyone in that place is so kind."

"I know," was Harry's response. "She was the only person I saw down there who didn't scare me."

"Well, now I need to clean us both up. You're rather sooty, did you know?"

"I'm sorry! I'll clean it up good as new, I swear!"

"Hush, childe, it's all right. I need only cast a simple spell, and it's all sorted out. By the way, where are your glasses?"

Shamefacedly, Harry pulled his broken eyewear from a pocket in his robes, and his sire mended them with Reparo after using Tergeo to get rid of all the soot. Once his childe had put them back on, Snape noticed something.

"Hmm, it seems to me that you need new glasses."

"That's all right, Father," Harry protested. "You don't have to get me something so expensive."

"Nonsense. If we get them from a muggle opticians, they won't cost anything at all."

"Really? My aunt and uncle said-"

"Your aunt and uncle lied. The National Health Service has been providing free optical and dental care to those under sixteen since 1948. I happen to know that for a fact since I received treatment from a muggle dentist as a child because my father was a muggle."

"Oh," was Harry's only remark.

With that, sire and childe left the pub and entered Diagon Alley, hand in hand as usual.

✱ ✱ ✱

As Snape and Harry entered Gringotts, the young vampire gave a glad cry of, "Hello, Griphook! How are you?"

"Harry Potter," a goblin walking behind one of the counters said as he stopped and gave Harry a scrutinising look. "How is it that you recognise me?"

"You took me on a cart ride the last time I was here," the vampire replied, grinning. "So I remember you."

"Careful, your fangs are showing," Snape murmured just before Griphook answered.

"It's highly unusual for humans to remember us as individuals. I thank you for that." Having said this, the goblin gave a short bow before continuing on his current errand.

Just then, the customer ahead of Harry and Snape in the queue finished his business and the goblin who had served him called out, "Next!"

"I wish to speak to the head goblin," the Potions Master stated once he got to the counter. "After that, Harry and I would like to go to vault 687, then I need to change some funds into muggle money."

"Right away, sir," the goblin said, smiling at Harry before getting down off his tall stool to consult with another of his kin, who disappeared through a door.

After a few minutes' tense wait, the goblin came back and said, "If you'll come with me, sirs, Master Graspclaw is willing to see you."

Snape and Harry followed the goblin to an antechamber, within which the Potions Master sat his childe in a chair before handing him 'Beedle the Bard', saying as he did so, "I have to speak to the head goblin privately, but I should be back in next to no time."

Harry simply nodded, already engrossed in the folktales of his new world as his sire went into the office to discuss the adult Dursleys' repayment of the funds they'd misappropriated.

✱ ✱ ✱

Harry was two thirds of the way through his book when Snape finally came back out of the office and said, "I've finished now, Harry. Let's go."

Standing up, Harry closed the book and offered it to his sire, only to be told, "It's all right, childe. That book is my gift to you."

The young vampire stood looking down at the book for several moments, then flung his arms around Snape in an excess of gratitude. A gift for him! No one ever gave him gifts!

After this, sire and childe returned to the main area of Gringotts, from where they accompanied Griphook through a door that Harry remembered from his first time in the bank. After Snape had collected sufficient funds to buy clothes for several boys - to Harry's mind - they returned to the main area once again, and were immediately called to one of the counters.

"Professor Snape, is it? You may not be aware of this fact, but with the ever increasing number of muggle-born students attending Hogwarts, we have ceased to offer actual currency conversion services. Instead, we can either rent you a currency converter for up to a month in return for a small fee, or for a substantially larger fee, you may purchase one."

"What's a currency converter?" Harry butted in, making his sire smile slightly. He also wished to know this.

"A currency converter, young wizard, is a bottomless pouch that will hold any amount of money in any currency, and which will change that money into a currency appropriate for the area in which the possessor of the pouch is paying for items."

"Wow," was all the vampire could say in response.

Snape thought over these two options for several moments, then said, "I'd like to buy a currency converter." He thought that such a thing would be useful not just on this shopping trip, but also on the holidays he was already planning for his childe's pleasure and further education.

✱ ✱ ✱

Inside Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions a short while after leaving Gringotts, Harry stood on a footstool as a magical tape measure flew around him for the second time, pressing itself against places that no one but he had ever touched before.

A few minutes of this later, Madame Malkin said, "Right, that's you done, young man. Are you wanting these as soon as possible, or shall I have them delivered?"

"Father?" Harry queried, slightly befuddled.

"If you could deliver them to Hogwarts by the end of the day," Snape replied, "that would be excellent."

Madame Malkin nodded. "Very well, Master Snape, I'll get started on them straightaway and have them to you by this evening."

As Snape and Harry left the robes shop, the Potions Master observed, "You're growing taller very quickly."

"I'm sorry, Father. I don't mean to."

"Don't apologise, childe. It's a good thing. Children are supposed to grow, and you are altogether too short."

Harry apologised again, causing his sire to give a long-suffering sigh.

"Harry, don't apologise for things you have no control over. In fact, I don't want you to apologise for anything unless I have told you to. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Father. I'm sorry."

Snape sighed again. It would clearly take some time for his childe to overcome his habit of apologising for every little thing.

The two wizards' next stop was Gambol and Japes, a joke shop that also sold a few toys and games, and from here, Snape purchased a pack of Exploding Snap cards, a pack of self-shuffling cards, a Wizard's Chess set, a set of Gobstones, and a fairly large stuffed dragon that roared and blew puffs of artificial smoke from its nose and mouth. The Potions Master stopped to consider a Screaming Yo-Yo, but then passed it over. He knew he'd never be able to stand the noise, and Filch would likely have something to say about it as well. Instead, after paying for the items he intended to buy, Snape took Harry to Flourish and Blotts, where he purchased several fiction books, a colouring book in which the pictures were based on the stories in 'Beedle the Bard', and one which had pictures of different magical creatures. After this, they went into Scribbulus Writing Instruments to purchase a quill grip to help Harry with his handwriting, and a pack of Everlasting Felt Tips, which didn't actually last forever, but did last at least ten times longer than Berol felt-tip pens, the best muggle variety.

Next came a trip to Sugarplum's Sweets Shop, where Snape bought Chocolate Frogs, Liquorice Wands, Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, Fizzing Whizzbees, and, of course, plenty of Blood Pops.

Now that he was finished in Diagon Alley, Snape needed a rest, so he took Harry to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour.

"Now, you can have any flavours you like," he said to his childe, "but no more than three scoops."

The ice cream Hagrid had bought him had been an untold luxury for Harry, so to be allowed three whole scoops was beyond imagining! He didn't know how he would ever repay his sire, but he would try his very hardest, starting with helping Neville to do better in Potions class because that would relieve a lot of the Potions Master's stress.

"What flavours would you like, Mr. Potter?" Florean Fortescue, the wizard who owned and ran the parlour asked.

"Um, can I have chocolate and raspberry like last time? And what flavour's that?"

"That's peanut butter, young man."

"And that one?"

"That's blood."

"OK, I'd like to try those as well, please."

"For such a polite young man, anything," Florean said as with a flourish, magical scoops served up a scoop of raspberry and chocolate ice cream, one of peanut butter, and one of blood. Then, in deference to his customer's obvious tastes, Florean squirted a healthy amount of blood syrup over the ice cream after sprinkling it with chopped nuts before handing over the frozen confection in its dish. He then served Snape with his selection of mint, apple, and coconut flavoured ice creams before sprinkling them with Pepper Imps and squirting a syrup made from Ogden's Old Firewhiskey over the whole.

After accepting Snape's payment, Florean handed ten Sickles back with a slight shake of his head, saying, "Extras are on the house today, for the sake of the polite child who saved our world."

Snape nodded his acceptance of the favour, then went to sit with his childe, who was only partway through his first scoop of ice cream, savouring each bite to make it last as long as possible.

"You'll need to eat that a little faster," Snape told him. "We've still more shopping to do."

Chapter Text

Chapter Eleven.

Having finished their ice creams, Snape and Harry left Diagon Alley. However, before exiting the Leaky Cauldron, the Potions Master stopped to transfigure the robes of his childe and himself to muggle clothing, then he had something to say.

"I have to visit St. Mungo's to check on Professor Quirrell for Professor Dumbledore. If you feel uncomfortable or scared at any time, let me know. All right?"

Harry nodded, then started to follow his sire to the nearest Tube station for the journey to Holborn.

✱ ✱ ✱

Outside Purge and Dowse, Ltd. - which had been 'Closed for Refurbishment' for several decades, if the clothing on the mannequins in the windows was anything to go by - Snape and Harry stood unobserved by the muggles that passed by as the Potions Master spoke to one of the human-shaped objects and waited for it to beckon him and his childe through the window.

✱ ✱ ✱

Standing at the reception desk of the magical hospital, Harry looked around and marvelled at how different it was from the Accident and Emergency department at Ashford Hospital, to which Dudley had been taken with bruised toes after trying to kick his cousin in the ribs with bare feet. Well, it wasn't Harry's fault he'd been too fast and Dudley had kicked the door of his cupboard instead, though he'd still been punished with two days without meals for it.

"Harry," Snape's voice broke into the vampire's thoughts. "Do you want to come with me or wait down here?"

Harry thought about this, then said, "I'll come with you, Father." He didn't have very much of his book left to read, and he didn't know how long his sire might be.

✱ ✱ ✱

After reaching the fourth floor of St. Mungo's, Harry and Snape entered the ward where Quirrell was staying, and were led to his bed by the Healer-in-Charge, name of Heracles Gloom, who informed the Potions Master of his erstwhile colleague's condition on the way.

Once he got to Quirrell's bedside, Snape was told, "As you can see, he's extremely restless. In fact, he's not had a moment's peace since he came in two days ago."

On the bed lay a man in his mid-twenties that Snape recognised despite the lack of his turban and the existence of a large bald patch that covered the entire back of his head. He was then startled as his childe let go of his hand and approached the former DADA professor, laying his hand on Quirrell's forehead and murmuring, "Sweet dreams, Professor. The badness is gone now."

Immediately, Quirrell's twitching and whimpering ceased, and his breathing evened out as he entered a deeper, more healing sleep.

"Amazing!" breathed Healer Gloom. "How exactly did you do that?"

"My magic told me what to do," Harry replied simply.

"Well, will you offer your services to two other patients with similar conditions? They have a son just about your age, and they must all surely be missing each other."

The young vampire was impatient to get on with shopping, but nodded his head in agreement, and he and his sire were led to the Janus Thickey Ward nearby, and then to two beds near the end of the room, with a man in one and a woman in the other.

"Alice, Frank!" Healer Gloom exclaimed in a cheery tone that belied his name. "You have visitors, and one of them's a young man who may be able to help you."

Both Alice and Frank had white, wispy, dead-looking hair and their faces were thin and worn, but they each managed to summon up a small smile for this child who was a stranger to them. After greeting these new people, Harry went up to Frank, and under the guidance of his magic, released the insidious block on the man's own that was preventing it healing him. He then turned to Alice and did the same for her before informing Snape that he wanted to leave.

"Very well, it's nearly time for lunch anyway. Since I believe you deserve a treat for trying to help those people, you can choose where we eat."

"Really, Father?" As he asked this, Harry's eyes got big and his mouth opened in astonishment for the second time that day.

"Really, Harry. So where would you like to go?"

"Um, can we go to McDonald's, please? Dudley always went to McDonald's."

"All right, let's go."

Taking his childe's hand, Snape left St. Mungo's to ask for directions to the nearest branch of McDonald's.

✱ ✱ ✱

McDonald's had been surprisingly near, and within a few minutes, sire and childe were standing in a queue in a restaurant near Covent Garden, which was also near Euston Station where Harry had boarded the Hogwarts Express from platform nine and three-quarters before the beginning of term. Once they got to the head of the queue, Snape asked Harry what he wanted, but he was so overwhelmed by his surroundings that he couldn't answer. So his sire chose a cheeseburger Happy Meal, an apple turnover, and a root beer for him. Then for himself, he selected a Big Mac and a cup of tea, much regretting the lack of any healthier options.

Twenty minutes later, with Harry full and firmly clutching the toy that had come with his meal in one hand, sire and childe got on the Tube to go to Oxford Street, where they spent a few hours selecting a range of trousers, T-shirts, and jumpers, all in various colours, along with two different pairs of trainers. Then after an eye exam and the selection of frames in a muggle opticians, Snape led his childe into an empty sidestreet, and after checking that no muggles were around, shrank and pocketed the carrier bags before apparating away from London.

✱ ✱ ✱

With an audible pop of displaced air, Harry and Snape appeared on the corner of Wisteria Walk, which the young vampire recognised immediately from all the times he'd been dumped on Mrs. Figg, who lived there. He asked his sire why they were there in his old hometown.

"I have to visit an old friend, and I'm not sure if she would welcome you. So just stay right here until I come back, all right?"

"Can I go to the park instead, Father?"

"Where is it?" After Harry told him, Snape said, "Very well, but remember to stay there until I come to get you."

With that, the Potions Master began walking to Mrs. Figg's house as Harry walked to the park.

'One good thing about being in Little Whinging while Dudley's away at Smeltings,' the vampire thought, 'is that he and his gang can't stop me playing on the swings or the slide!'

As he walked along, Harry wondered who the extra clothes and all the toys, games, and sweets were for, and he wished he had some. Not that he really minded, much, at all. He had just succeeded in burying his jealousy when a familiar car came around the corner into Magnolia Road and pulled up beside him, the driver's side window being wound down.

"Well, I didn't expect to see you here," Vernon Dursley said, his tone malicious and mocking. "I suppose you were too freaky even for that freak school of yours, and they've decided to dump you back where they think you belong so you can lie idle. Well, not on my watch, boy! You'll work for your privileges, the same as you did before. What's that in your hand? Stealing now, are you? I suppose it was only a matter of time before you took after your filthy parents, drunken excuses for human beings that they were."

"My parents didn't die in a drink driving accident, they were murdered. And I didn't steal this toy, it came with a meal I was given by Professor Snape, who I'm going to meet," Harry stated.

"Who would give you food? Waste of good money, if you ask me. And if this 'Professor Snape's' meeting you somewhere, then where is he? No, he just dumped you because he can't stand you, and to inconvenience me. Now get in the car."

"But-"

"Get in the car now, or I'll make sure you don't eat for a month!"

Very reluctantly, Harry got into his uncle's car, and it carried on towards Privet Drive, passing Snape along the way just as he was entering Mrs. Figg's house.

✱ ✱ ✱

After Mrs. Figg had sat down with Snape to a pot of tea and a plate of Hob-Nobs, she asked him why he was there.

"I've come to apologise for Harry, Arabella."

"Apologise for him? But why? What can that sweet boy have possibly done that requires an apology?"

"Well, there's no easy way to put this..."

"What, Severus? What is it?"

"I'm afraid Harry killed your cats."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous! Harry couldn't have killed my cats. Why, they were..."

Mrs. Figg's eyes widened in realisation, and the Potions Master nodded.

"So, I offer my sincere apologies to you on behalf of my childe for his killing of your cats."

"Your apology is accepted. Where is Harry, by the way?"

"Since I couldn't be sure how you'd take my news, I allowed him to go to the park."

"Well, fetch him inside! It's getting cold out, and I'm sure he'd appreciate some biscuits and hot tea."

Nodding, Snape got up and left the house, following Harry's directions to the park. When he got there, he at first got angry when he saw that his childe wasn't there, but after ten minutes of searching and calling, became worried and decided to see if Mrs. Figg knew where he might be.

✱ ✱ ✱

Now locked in Dudley's second bedroom within Number Four Privet Drive, Harry lay on the single divan, sobbing his heart out. He'd thought his sire liked him at least, but he'd clearly abandoned him just like Uncle Vernon said. After all, why else allow him to be where he could so easily be picked up to be brought back to where he faced a lack of food to do numerous chores on? The worst thing was that he couldn't even run away because of the new locks on his bedroom door and the bars that had been put on his window.

Over the next several minutes, Harry's crying gradually ceased as he curled himself up tightly, his mind retreating further and further from the horror he'd found himself in.

✱ ✱ ✱

After returning to Mrs. Figg's house, Snape asked her if she had any clue where Harry might be.

"Well, no," she answered. "Unless he's gone to his aunt and uncle's house. It's only around the corner."

"Why would he go there? That place was a hellhole for him."

"Unless he went there against his will. His uncle usually arrives home from work around the time you knocked on my door."

Snape swore profusely before asking for directions to the Dursleys' house, which Mrs. Figg willingly gave, then he set out for Privet Drive, getting there within a few minutes.

✱ ✱ ✱

Vernon Dursley was just sitting down to his tea when the doorbell rang.

"Go and see who that is, would you, Pet?" he asked before remembering that Petunia was helping out at some church thing, which was why he'd had to heat up the meal that she'd left him. Sighing with frustration, Vernon got up to answer the door himself, and was immediately faced with an angry madman who pointed a polished stick in his face as though it could hurt him.

"Where is he?" the madman snarled.

"Where is who?"

"Harry Potter, your nephew."

"There's no one of that name here, the boy's at St. Brutus' Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys."

"That's a lie. I happen to know for a fact that your nephew is attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and right now, he's somewhere in Little Whinging, probably inside this very house. Now where is he?!"

"You're one of those freaks, aren't you?"

Snape had had enough by this point, so with an "Incarcerous!" and a "Muffliato!" he effectively gagged and bound Vernon before saying, "Point me Harry Potter."

Immediately, Snape's wand indicated the stairs, then once he was at the top of them, it swung around to point towards the door of a room at the front of the house, a door that bore more locks than the front door of every branch of TSB in Surrey collectively.

Rather than wasting time with Alohomora to open each lock individually, Snape simply tore them all off at once, his heart sinking as he entered the room and his eyes met the sight of his childe lying apparently comatose on the bed, one thumb firmly wedged between his fangs.

Picking Harry up, Snape cradled him carefully as he returned downstairs and told Vernon, "You'll pay dearly for this, I'll make sure of it!" then left the house to return to Mrs. Figg's, where he asked for and was granted permission to use the fireplace.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twelve.

Reaching Hogwarts at last, Snape stepped from the hearth in his office, then left the room and made straight for his quarters, where he changed his childe's clothes and put him to bed. He initially had some difficulty with this because of Harry's reluctance to have his thumb out of his mouth for any amount of time, but a dose of Calming Draught spelled directly into his stomach soon did the trick. The moment that the young vampire was snugly under the covers, once again curled into a foetal position, Snape went back into his office to make an urgent floo call.

"Poppy, would you please attend my quarters? It's for Harry."

"Why don't you bring him here? I'm rather busy at the minute, but I can spare just a few moments."

"I can't, I'm afraid. He really is rather ill, and I'm not sure what moving him further might do. He feels just like a block of ice as it is."

"Fine, I'll just finish up here, then I'll be along as soon as I can. Most of this lot's just minor injuries, anyway."

After uttering a hasty "Thank you," the Potions Master cut the floo connection and returned to his childe's side, almost jumping from his skin when he heard a knock on the door to his chambers after just a few minutes' tense wait. He bade the person enter, much surprised to see Hagrid.

"Professor, have yeh seen Harry? I invited him ter tea at three, but heard he was still shoppin' with you, so I... Wait, is tha' him? Oh, Harry, what happened ter yeh ter make yeh like this?"

Saying this, the half-giant stumped over to the bed and gingerly sat on the edge of it before stroking Harry's face with a gentleness that Snape had never before seen. This action had the immediate effect of reducing the flush in the vampire's cheeks by a not insignificant amount, and Snape's benumbed brain felt grateful after all that Hagrid was there.

✱ ✱ ✱

Several more minutes went by, during which time the professor of potions ordered a meal, then there was another knock at the door before it opened and Madame Pomfrey's head peeked round it.

"Yes, yes. Come in," Snape impatiently snapped in response to her unasked question, and she hurried inside, rapidly crossing the lounge and entering the bedroom.

By this time, Hagrid was cradling Harry like a baby in his arms, and as Madame Pomfrey approached the bed, she asked him to put the young vampire down for his examination.

"I don' think I should, Madame Pomfrey. Harry doesn' like it when he isn' feelin' safe."

"It's all right, Hagrid," Snape butted in. "It will only be for as long as it takes to perform the examination, then you can hold him again."

Reluctantly, Hagrid laid his charge back on the bed so Madame Pomfrey could wave her wand several times over him, then as she was checking the results, he again picked Harry up, the vampire's groans and whimpers immediately quieting as his comfort returned and he felt secure once more.

"Well, Hagrid," Madame Pomfrey said. "I must congratulate you on your excellent instincts." She turned to Snape and explained, "Young Mr. Potter is suffering from acute stress disorder. Without the correct treatment, it can easily become post traumatic stress disorder. Thankfully, Hagrid seems to know what that treatment is."

"No, Madame Pomfrey, I didn'," Hagrid butted in. "I only know what Harry needs sometimes."

"I believe that Hagrid may have a good insight into my childe's needs because of the boy's classification as a magical being," Snape quietly explained. "You know how he is with anything living that's also regarded as highly unusual."

"Indeed, I do," Madame Pomfrey smiled before saying more loudly, "Well, removal from the trauma and constant comfort are absolutely the best things for the boy, and he should come out of this in no longer than a few days."

"All right, Poppy. Thank you for coming."

"That's all right, Severus. I'll just see myself out."

After saying this, Madame Pomfrey did just that, leaving the three males alone again until there was another knock on the door just a few minutes later, by which time, they were all sitting in the lounge. The Potions Master snapped a curt permission to enter, and Professor McGonagall bustled into his chambers in her usual brisk manner.

"Severus, I came to see Harry because he hasn't come to feed and Albus said he'd be with you. Oh, what's wrong with the poor wee chap?"

Just then, Hagrid surprised the Potions Master with his insight by saying, "Nothin' much, professor. He'll be righ' as rain in a few days, jus' yeh wait an' see. I can feed him if his illness is makin' yeh nervous."

"No, that's all right, Hagrid," Professor McGonagall replied, going up and placing her wrist near Harry's mouth as Snape held his hands out of the way. "Harry, don't you want this? Aren't you hungry?"

"My childe may be too out of it to feed properly," Snape noted. "You'll have to cut your wrist for him before trying again."

Shuddering slightly, Professor McGonagall nevertheless pointed her wand at her wrist and used the Diffindo spell before putting the body part directly to the vampire's mouth, and this time he latched on immediately, soon finishing and healing the injury with a few licks.

"Well, at least Harry's other instincts are unaffected," the professor of potions remarked just before a loud crack could be heard as two house-elves appeared, each carrying a tray with various items upon it.

"Is Master Snape wanting enough for two guests as well as himself and his childe?" one of the servile creatures enquired. "Binky or Tatty can be getting more food."

"That's quite all right, thank you all the same," Professor McGonagall interrupted. "I will be eating in the Great Hall as I usually do."

"Well, let me get you your dose of blood replenishing potion before you leave, Minerva," Snape replied.

"Thank you, Severus," Professor McGonagall responded. As soon as she had the promised potion in her possession, she turned to Harry and said, "Get well quickly, Mr. Potter. You have your first flying lesson next week, and I don't think you'll want to miss that." Then she left to Snape's groan at the idea of his childe riding a broom.

For the next half-hour, the Potions Master sat with Harry on his lap, holding his hands away from his mouth while feeding him with spoonfuls of chicken broth and sips of pumpkin juice as he and Hagrid ate sandwiches and drank tea together, then the half-giant stood up to leave.

"I'd best be gettin' back, Professor Snape. The animals will be wantin' their dinners. I'll come a bit earlier tomorrow so yeh can get some time to yerself. That is, if yeh want me ter."

"Actually, why don't you come at the same time so we can eat together again? You are clearly a friend of Harry's, and your companionship is not unenjoyable."

"Yes, professor."

"Oh, and Hagrid?"

"Yes, professor?" The bearded man turned back from the door.

"Call me Severus."

"Yes, pro- Sev'rus."

With that, Hagrid finally left, and Snape spoke to the boy on his lap, saying, "You know, childe, even with all the trouble you've been, I still wouldn't give you up, not even if you paid me all the money in every branch of Gringotts to do so. I hope you realise that."

The moment these words were spoken, the tight grip Harry had on his sire's robes loosened slightly.

✱ ✱ ✱

Another few hours later, during which Snape read 'Beedle the Bard' to Harry, the Potions Master ordered supper, and after he had eaten and Harry had fed, the young vampire finally seemed to be asleep. His sire took this opportunity to change into his own nightwear, but as he was getting into bed, Harry grasped his nightshirt so tightly, Snape found it hard to breathe.

"Harry, let go. I'm not going anywhere. Harry, I can't breathe properly! Let go!"

It was no good. Harry was unable to listen, his face flushed and covered with a sheen of sweat, his breathing harsh, and tears leaking from under his closed eyelids. Sighing, the professor of potions spelled another dose of Calming Draught into the young vampire's stomach, and the punishing hold was finally released.

Finally able to get into bed properly, Snape gathered his childe into his arms, murmuring, "Whatever am I going to do with you?"

However, all he received for answer was a slight groan as Harry sucked his thumb harder.

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirteen.

The day after Harry had become ill, a Sunday, nothing much occurred, to Snape's great relief. Professor McGonagall paid a visit in the morning to see how her most unusual student was getting on, rather disappointed when she left, then Hagrid showed up a few hours after lunch.

"Hello, professor. I mean Sev'rus. Shall I take Harry off yer hands fer a bit now?"

"Yes, please, if you would, Hagrid. Now, Harry, I shan't be long. You just let your friend Hagrid look after you for a while, then I'll be back to help you eat. All right?"

This time, Harry didn't desperately grasp his sire's clothing, allowing the transfer to go off without a hitch, and Snape was able to spend some time sitting quietly on the shore of the Black Lake, unshed tears in his eyes.

"Severus, my boy," the Potions Master suddenly heard, and he turned around to confront Dumbledore, only for his shoulders to then droop, his words of censure remaining unspoken.

"Come, come, Severus. You and I both know that young Harry has survived worse than this before. He's stronger than you might believe, rather like yourself at the same age."

"Yes, Father," Snape replied, "but I never shut down my mind to escape my trauma."

"No, son, you didn't. You had already learned to shut down your feelings instead. Come on, just let it all out now."

At this, Snape turned to Dumbledore's open arms, and allowed his tears to flow as he felt the comfort of the strong embrace, silent sobs shaking his body. As he held his adopted son, gently stroking his back, the headmaster lost himself in memories of how this relationship with the younger man had begun.

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Dumbledore waited until the thirteen-year-old boy had sat down, then said, "Ah, Severus. I'm so glad you could make it. I've heard about your circumstances, and wish to discuss your future with you. I hear that your father recently died. Is this correct?"

"Yes, sir. Tobias was found in a backstreet near the house, and his blood alcohol level was extremely high. The muggle authorities think he died of exposure after drinking to forget mother's death, but I believe that he was actually celebrating it. What more can one expect of a man who would brutalise his wife and child rather than going through a divorce?"

Instead of censuring Severus for his bitterness, the headmaster merely continued, "Well, as I see it, your only option currently is to live in a muggle orphanage until you are eighteen, when you will have to leave and make your own way in the world. However, I have already witnessed the results of such with another wizard, so I wish to offer you the choice of adoption."

"And who would be willing to adopt someone like me?" Severus sneered.

"I would, of course."

"You? But you know my history. Why would you adopt me?"

"It is because I know your history that forms part of my reason."

"And the other part?"

"You would be the child I was unable to have in my youth. Someone to live on after me, and possibly carry my beliefs to future generations."

"I suppose I have no choice in this matter?"

"Of course you do, my boy, and while I would be disappointed if you should say no, I will respect that choice all the same. Now, which is it to be?"

Severus sat in silence for several moments, his head down, before finally looking up again and saying, "All right, you may adopt me."

"Thank you, child. I will make arrangements for the relevant papers to be drawn up, and we can sign them within a few days."

With that, Severus stood up and left the headmaster's study. As ever, he hadn't accepted any of the sherbet lemons offered to him.

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Several minutes after it had begun, Snape's crying finally ceased and he wiped his eyes.

"I apologise for my loss of control," he said.

"Oh, hush," Dumbledore scolded him gently. "You have been going through rather a hard time these past two days, so it would be unnatural and harmful if you didn't express the fear and frustration you must be feeling as a result."

Not for the first time, Snape groaned inwardly as he wondered just how much the headmaster didn't know, then he realised the time and stood up.

"I have to go. I left Hagrid with Harry, and I've been gone for quite some time now."

"What is the matter? Don't you trust Hagrid with your childe?"

Shaking his head, Snape answered, "You couldn't have seen the man yesterday and not trust him, but I said I would only be a few minutes, so it isn't fair to leave them for so long."

"All right, I'll let you go then. I just want to tell you something before you do, though. Harry doesn't have to do a full day when he returns to school tomorrow."

With new hope now in his heart, Snape bade his adoptive father farewell, then returned to the castle.

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"Sev'rus, Sev'rus! He woke up! Harry woke up!" were the first words Snape heard on his return.

"Really?" he asked. "What happened? When?"

"It was jus' a few minutes ago. Harry opened his eyes, looked aroun', then went righ' back ter sleep," the half-giant replied. "So it wasn' fer long, but he woke up!"

Smiling just as jubilantly, Snape said, "Thank you, Hagrid! That's wonderful!" Then he dropped the smile and stated, "Yes, it's wonderful, of course. You won't tell anybody, will you?"

"No, I won' tell anybody you was smilin', an' I won' even tell 'em how handsome yeh are when yeh do it."

"You think I'm handsome?" Snape was stunned, unable to believe this. While Dumbledore had often told him that he could have anybody he wanted to if he just fixed himself up a bit, nobody had ever told him he was handsome just as he was.

"Yes, I do," was the reply. "I know yeh have yer flaws, like yer broken nose, but I reckon they jus' add to yer rugged charm." With that, Hagrid moved over to the professor of potions and pressed a kiss to the dazed man's lips, apologising immediately. "Oh, I'm sorry. I know I shouldn' have done tha', but yer jus' so gorgeous I couldn' help meself."

"Yes, you shouldn't have." Snape said crossly. "If you're going to kiss someone, you should at least make sure they're in a fit state of mind to know whether they enjoy it."

"Oh. So what can I do ter make it up ter yeh then?"

"Well, for a start, you can do it again while I'm fully aware. Then I shall know whether or not I wish to take this further."

After Hagrid kissed Snape for the second time, he did it for a third, longer time, then gave him a full-mouthed kiss, each time in response to the other man's requests.

"Yes, I believe I am willing to pursue a relationship with you, Hagrid," Snape finally said, sending the half-giant into a whirl of glee as he went towards the door. However, the words, "May I ask where you think you are going?" suddenly brought him up short.

"Back ter me hut, Sev'rus," he replied, bemused.

"Not with my childe, you're not."

Looking down at his arms, Hagrid suddenly realised that they were still occupied, so he handed Harry over before starting to leave again.

"Have you also forgotten about my invitation, Hagrid? Please, enjoy another meal with us."

"Yeh, yeh meant it? Abou' eatin' with you an' Harry again?"

"Well, of course I meant it. When have you ever known me to say something I didn't mean?"

Just then, the two house-elves from the previous day showed up with the food which Snape had ordered that morning, and both he and Hagrid again had sandwiches and tea while the professor of potions fed Harry with lamb and barley broth and more pumpkin juice. No sooner was the food gone than Hagrid left to feed his animals, and Snape picked up his childe to carry him to the person who was supposed to supply his blood that day as they hadn't yet shown up. Just then, however, there was a knock at the door, so Snape had to answer it.

"Ah, Severus. So sorry I'm late," twittered Professor Flitwick, whom the visitor was. "I was asked for my help in removing a particularly troublesome jinx from a student's trunk, and I finally managed to finish only a few minutes ago. I shall have to go to the kitchens to get my dinner, but I remembered that I had something else important to do first. How is young Mr. Potter, by the way? Any better?"

"Slightly," came the dry response. "Are you now going to allow him to feed, or will you just stand there babbling all day?"

"Oh, Mr. Potter may feed. Oh yes, certainly!"

"Thank you, Filius. If you would?"

Having finally got the excitable part-goblin to focus, Snape held his childe's hands away from his mouth until he had fed and healed the magically created wound in Professor Flitwick's wrist, then gave the older man his dose of blood replenishing potion.

"Thank you, Severus. Good day, Mr. Potter. I hope to see you back in class soon."

With that, the charms professor left, and Snape was finally free to hunt out one of Harry's new story books to read to him until supper arrived.

Chapter Text

Chapter Fourteen.

After being driven back to Number Four Privet Drive and locked in his new room by his uncle, Harry tried to escape out of the window, only to discover that thick, strong bars had been securely fastened to the wall outside of it, and he could not shift them even slightly. So, frustrated and distraught, he instead flopped onto the broken bed in the middle of the room and lay there, tears pouring from his eyes and soaking the thin polyester filled cotton bag that passed for a pillow. While he was lying there, he gradually curled up and drifted into an exhausted sleep.

When Harry woke up again, it seemed as if he had been moved back to his cupboard. However, this cupboard was very different from the one under the stairs. For a start, it was free of cobwebs, dust, and the general grime that normally covered its surfaces. Secondly, everything in it was new except for the old blanket he'd had for as long as he could remember, and the teddy bear a kind policeman had given him when he was four, which he had called PC Darren after the man. Also, the cupboard walls seemed to have been soundproofed, which meant that he wouldn't disturb his relatives if he woke screaming from the nightmare that was filled with a sickly green light.

Another thing which informed Harry that this was a different cupboard was the fact that it was bigger than the other one, almost too big for comfort. Fortunately, though, the walls soon moved inwards until he felt safely enclosed within them, then there was a sensation as if he was moving through the floos of the world he'd had recurrent dreams about. After this, the walls of the cupboard zoomed into the distance and his teddy was plucked from his arms by an invisible force, then several minutes later, everything returned to normal and he grasped PC Darren tightly so as not to lose him again.

Some time afterwards, the walls of the cupboard again zoomed away and PC Darren was taken, then once the bear was returned, Harry again clutched him tightly as he sobbed with mingled panic and relief. Thankfully, no one had entered the cupboard thus far, and he was able to discern that, except for the rather strange and disturbing events, it was a safe place made just for him. There were bolts on the door, but these were on the inside and fastened securely, meaning that no one could enter unless Harry himself chose to let them in.

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After a rather long period, which Harry spent whispering about his dream world to PC Darren, he suddenly realised that he was hungry. No sooner had he felt this, though, then the sensation went away again, and he grew scared that his needs were obviously being met by that Force Which Must Not Be Named. Then he remembered that no one could come into this cupboard unless he let them in, and he relaxed again, even daring to whisper the forbidden word to his teddy; "Magic." After this, Harry's cupboard warmed up perceptibly so that the temperature was more like that of a body than a room, and he basked in the increased heat.

All of a sudden, a hatch appeared in one wall of the cupboard, and Harry cautiously opened it, immediately hearing a voice that was somehow familiar, telling him a story about a charlatan who made a witch perform a foolish king's magic for him, then tried to have her killed when the attempt was failing. Then there was a less exciting tale about three brothers who possessed between them a wand, a magic stone, and a cloak, the third brother managing to live far beyond his natural span by using his Cloak of Invisibility to hide from Death, finally taking it off to greet him once he felt he had lived long enough.

Having heard enough and wishing to think over the details of the stories he had just heard, Harry closed the hatch and it disappeared. Recognising what had caused this, he whispered his new favourite word a little louder, and when neither Uncle Vernon nor Aunt Petunia came to punish him for using it, he said it over and over, getting louder with each repetition until he was shouting it; "MAGIC!"

Just then, the cupboard walls zoomed off so far in the distance that Harry could no longer see them, and not only did PC Darren disappear again, but everything else did also, and Harry curled up on the floor to scream out his fright and loneliness. Eventually, however, everything returned once more, although Harry couldn't stop crying until his cupboard warmed up again, then he fell into an exhausted slumber.

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For several hours after he woke up, the walls of Harry's cupboard didn't zoom away nor did his stuff disappear, and the temperature didn't drop, either. Curious as to why this was, he cautiously unbolted the door and opened it a crack to peep out, only to see a face that, while not threatening, didn't feel right somehow. Thus it was that Harry slammed the cupboard door closed again and bolted it securely, deciding to try again later to find the right face.

A few minutes afterwards, Harry's cupboard swooped and spun, tossing him around like a cork bobbing in a stormy strait, but the walls had become rubberised and air-filled like those of a bouncy castle, and he laughed in enjoyment of the sensation. Some time later, Harry became hungry, and then wasn't, then the mysterious hatch from before he had slept reappeared, and he opened it to hear the voice from earlier telling him a rather strange tale about drawings of elephants inside boa constrictors, which he thought was very funny.

At that moment, Harry decided to see if the story teller was the right face, so he cautiously unbolted and opened the cupboard door to peek through, flinging it wide open when he saw the familiar obsidian eyes and raven hair of his sire.

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Snape was about two thirds of the way through the first chapter of 'The Little Prince' by Antoine de Saint Exupéry when he saw Harry open his eyes and smile at him. Nevertheless, he finished the chapter before speaking to his childe.

"Hello, Harry. I've missed you."

"Why did you leave me, Father? You said you'd never send me back to the Dursleys!"

"I did not send you back there, Vernon Dursley took you without my consent. You may rest assured that he will pay very dearly for that crime, however. What? What is it?"

Harry was shaking his head. "In dreams, nobody gets punished for what they've done, and when I'm awake, I'm the only one who deserves punishment for being such a filthy, worthless freak."

"You are neither filthy or worthless, childe, nor are you a freak. You are a good boy and a special person whom I love very much."

"Now I know this is a dream. It's only in my dreams that people tell me I'm a good boy and that they love me, and where magic exists." Harry whispered the word 'magic' as though it was very dangerous.

"Harry, this is not a dream. You are very much wide awake and magic does exist in the real world, believe me."

"Prove it then!"

Snape decided to levitate one of the books on the coffee table in front of him, only for his childe to respond that such things often occurred in dreams, causing him to sigh. Then he was struck by a sudden inspiration.

"So who would you rather believe; someone who tells you that magic doesn't exist and calls you very many horrible things, or someone who tells you that magic is real and who loves you as if you were his own son?"

With that, Harry punched Snape on the nose, then flung his arms around him, crying, "Don't you ever leave me again, Father!"

"No, never again, childe. I promise."

As the man and boy hugged each other, the flames burning in Snape's fireplace suddenly turned green, and Dumbledore's face appeared amongst them.

"Ah, Severus. I hoped to find you here."

Snape managed to bite back his retort of "Where else did you expect me to be?" and allow his adpoptive father to continue.

"Minerva has come to me to express concern that Harry seems to disappear from his dormitory at some point every night. Do you happen to know where he goes?"

"Harry comes here as he is unable to sleep away from his sire for some reason. In fact, I would like to request permission for him to move here on a permanent basis until he no longer requires my presence to get a full night's rest."

The headmaster nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I shall have to discuss it with Minerva, of course, but if Harry truly needs your presence, then there should be no problem. I'm going to allow him to stay with you tonight in any case. After the trauma he's gone through, he'll need comfort from someone he feels safe with."

After thanking Dumbledore for his wisdom and insight, Snape picked Harry up and carried him through into the bathroom to have his first bath before changing into one of his new nightshirts.

Chapter Text

Chapter Fifteen.

From waking up the following morning, throughout breakfast and his first lesson, which luckily was Potions, Harry refused to leave Snape's side. Then, finally reassured that his daily life was not a dream, he allowed his sire to escort him to Charms and leave him there until the end of class.

"Now, Harry, I'll try to meet you after the lesson finishes, but if I can't, you know where my classroom is. All right?"

Harry nodded, gave his sire a hug as if to reassure himself that he was still there, then entered the Charms classroom with a slight skip to his step. After this, Snape felt able to finally go on a personal errand at the hospital wing. His nose had been hurting him ever since his childe had punched it the previous night.

✱   ✱   ✱

"Unfortunately, Severus, your nose has been rebroken along one of the previous fractures. What happened? It just isn't like you to get into unnecessary fights."

"I wasn't in a fight, it was..."

"Ah, young Mr. Potter?" Poppy Pomfrey asked, wondering what exactly Snape had done to cause his childe to hit him so hard.

"Yes, he punched me for allowing his uncle to abduct him. Well, thank you, Poppy. I must be on my way to meet Harry for lunch."

With that, Snape left the infirmary, wondering if it wasn't a good thing that his nose had been refractured. After all, he had been able to get both of the previous breaks corrected at the same time that it was mended. However, Harry had injured him quite severely, although he hadn't meant to, so he would still have to be punished for that. Thus it was that the Potions professor thought about punishments suitable for his childe's current psychological age as he swept along the corridors of Hogwarts.

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As soon as he entered the Potions classroom before lunchtime, Harry stopped and looked up at Snape with trepidation, knowing from the man's demeanour that he had done something wrong and was about to be punished for it.

"Harry, when you punched me yesterday, you broke my nose. Now, since your act of violence caused an injury, I must punish you for it. Come here."

Hesitantly, Harry stepped forwards, then flinched when his sire picked up one of the stools the students sat on in lessons, knowing that he was likely to feel it across his back. However, all that Snape did was to set the stool in a corner of the room, then guide his childe over towards it.

"Now, I want you to sit there, facing the corner, and think about the harm you caused when you punched me. I will tell you when you may get up again."

At that, Harry almost smiled his happiness, remembering just in time that he was being punished and keeping his face solemn as he sat on the stool. Yet despite his joy, it seemed an eternity before Snape announced that the time was up eleven minutes later.

"Now, what do you have to say, Harry?"

"I really, really didn't mean to hurt you, Father, but I'm sorry I did anyway."

"Very well. So you will no longer punch people except in self-defence?"

"I'm allowed to do that?"

"Everyone is allowed to hurt someone else to prevent immediate injury to themselves from the other person. What makes you think that you're not?"

"Every time Dudley punched me, I would get punished if I hit him back. Even if it happened at school where my aunt and uncle couldn't see. Sometimes, I would get punished for nothing if Dudley said I'd hit him when I hadn't."

"Well, the people who punished you were very wrong to do so, but you still mustn't hit someone else unless they won't stop hitting you or they are hurting someone else. All right?"

Harry nodded, gave his sire a hug, then they set off hand in hand to the Great Hall to eat a slightly belated lunch.

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For the rest of that afternoon, Harry once again refused to leave his sire's side, even going so far as to fall asleep during a Potions class with the third year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. Sighing, Snape picked his childe up and settled him on his lap, and this caused several of the students to whisper and giggle, nearly dropping potions ingredients as they nudged each other to stare. They soon settled back into the lesson, however, when the noise caused Harry to shift and yawn, revealing his fangs as he did so. Later that afternoon, the rumours flew thick and fast.

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Once lessons were over for the day, Snape said to his childe, "Now, Harry, I received an owl this morning, informing me that your new glasses are ready to be picked up. Do you want to come with me, or would you like to have your belated visit with Hagrid?"

After thinking it over for some minutes, Harry decided to visit his friend, so Snape took him to Hagrid's hut before leaving for the Leaky Cauldron. On his way to the fireplace in the headmaster's study, however, he was accosted by one of the Hufflepuff prefects.

"Professor Snape, I thought you should know that students are saying you're a vampire."

"So what makes you believe that would bother me, Mr. Truman?" Snape sneered. "As you well know, that rumour's been going around since my first year of teaching here."

"I know that, sir, but they're claiming that you bit and turned Harry Potter, and that's why he has fangs."

"Well, you may inform them of the fact that I would no longer be a professor at this school if any such thing had ever occurred, although I doubt that would still their wagging tongues. Merlin knows I'm still rumoured to be a vampire, despite all evidence to the contrary."

With that, Snape swept off on his way to London.

Chapter Text

Chapter Sixteen.

Once he had picked up Harry's new glasses from Dollond & Aitchison, where the young vampire had had his eyes tested, Snape had a cup of tea in a café to give his childe some more time, then returned to the Leaky Cauldron to take the floo back to Hogwarts. Immediately he arrived, he set off straight for Hagrid's hut, where he was met by the half-giant himself, who gave him a full-mouthed kiss to a gasp of shock from Harry. The Potions Master turned round just in time to see his childe run from the hut and into the Forbidden Forest, where he was quickly lost to view amongst the dark foliage.

Instantly, Hagrid said, "You stay here, I'll go find Harry."

However, Snape knew that he had to be the one to find his childe, so he asked Hagrid to stay in case his aid was required, then set off through the trees. Some time later, he heard stifled sobs coming from some undergrowth, and pushed through it to find the young vampire.

"Harry, what's the matter? Why did you run away?"

"You're a queer, aren't you?"

"I prefer the terms 'gay' or 'homosexual', if you don't mind."

"I've been told about people like you, you like to do unnatural things to boys like me."

"Now whoever told you that nonsense?"

Sensing that maybe he was going to get punished again, Harry nevertheless stated, "The Dursleys?"

"Well, they have a very narrow-minded and prejudiced viewpoint, so you'd be better off not listening to them. The fact is that because I'm gay, that means I'm attracted to other men, not children, and my love for you is only that of a sire for his childe, nothing else. You may rest assured that neither I nor Hagrid have any wish to do unnatural things with you, and the things we want to do with each other are entirely natural for two men who are lovers. Now, shall we get out of here before something comes looking for dinner?"

Hesitantly, Harry nodded, and the two males began walking back the way the professor of Potions had come. It was too late, however, and just as they were about to walk under a tree, a half-grown acromantula, whose legs spanned ten feet, dropped from its branches and directly into their path. Instantly, Snape drew his wand, only for his childe to put his hand on his arm before clicking and chittering at the giant spider, which caused it to back off, then ascend a different tree, allowing the two humans to go on their way unmolested.

"How did you know what to do, Harry?" Snape asked.

However, the only explanation he received was, "My magic told me what to do," with which he had to be satisfied.

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Once Harry and Snape were safely back at Hogwarts Castle, the Potions Master belatedly remembered the errand he had set off on, and he said to his childe, "I have your new glasses here. Would you like to put them on now?"

The young vampire agreed, and the moment the frames touched his nose, he marvelled at how much he could now see. "Wow, I can even see the leaves in the trees! And some of the little twigs they're growing on."

His sire laughed. "Good, your vision is supposed to be that acute. Now, it's time for you to do your prep. You may do it in the Potions classroom with me, and you may invite up to two of your fellow students to do it with you if you wish."

Much to his surprise after the shock of earlier, Harry accepted instantly, and they went to the Gryffindor common room to find Hermione and Neville.

Once prep was completed, the four ate supper in Snape's quarters, then afterwards, the young vampire informed his sire that he would rather sleep in his dormitory after feeding that night. However, at around one o'clock in the morning, the professor of Potions felt a smaller person creep into his bed and knew that his childe had not been able to resist his needs. By the time he woke up at seven, though, Harry had gone again.

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On the next day, which was a Tuesday, Harry went to all his classes with Neville and Hermione, and when he saw his sire afterwards, the hug he gave him was brief and awkward. After this, he dashed off to do his prep, and Snape sighed, wondering if his childe would ever get over the crap that had been drummed into him by the Dursleys.

In the early hours of the following morning, Harry crept into his sire's bed after Astronomy class, again leaving before the man was awake. The Potions Master ate breakfast in his quarters that day, sad that Harry's trust in him had been broken over nothing.

✱   ✱   ✱

After dinner that day, Harry joined his classmates on the Quidditch pitch for his first flying lesson, and although he did reasonably well, one of his friends wasn't so fortunate.

"Come back, boy!" Madame Hooch, the Flying instructor, shouted as Neville's broom shot upwards with him astride it, and the whole class turned green when he slipped sideways and fell with a rather portentous sounding thud and crack. Well, the whole class excepting Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who all gave nasty smirks as Neville began to whimper in pain.

Once Madame Hooch was escorting Neville to the hospital wing, Malfoy burst into laughter, saying, "Did you see his face, the fat lump?"

The other Slytherins immediately forgot their earlier sympathy and joined in, much to the Gryffindors' disgust.

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Parvati Pavil snapped.

At that, a hard-faced Slytherin girl named Pansy Parkinson said, "Ooh, sticking up for fat cry-babies, are you? Why? Is he your boyfriend, or a replacement for your twin?"

Parvati, whose identical twin, Padma, had been sorted into Ravenclaw, causing their separation for the first time in their lives, seemed about to do something drastic to the other girl when Malfoy distracted them both.

"Look!" said the blond pureblood, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

As the Remembrall glittered in Malfoy's hand, Harry quietly said, "Give it here, Malfoy. That's Neville's, not yours."

Malfoy smiled nastily and replied, "I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find. How about... up a tree?"

"Give it here!" Harry yelled, his eyes turning red with anger, but Malfoy only jumped on his broomstick and took off.

With the ease of long years of practice, the Slytherin flew off until he was hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak, then he called out, "Come and get it, Potter!"

With his blood pounding in his ears with rage, Harry got onto his own broomstick, not hearing Hermione's warning to follow Madame Hooch's instructions to stay exactly where he was, and took flight after his nemesis. As he soared upwards, he almost laughed aloud with glee. He had never felt like this even in his dreams! This was easy! It was fantastic! He could do this every day! To the sound of an admiring whoop from Weasley and screams and gasps from the others, he took the broom higher and turned it sharply to face the Prince of Slytherin in midair.

"Give it here," the young vampire said to a clearly stunned Malfoy, "or I'll knock you off that broom!"

"Oh, yeah?" Malfoy tried to sneer, but he was clearly worried.

Leaning forwards and tightly grasping the broom handle with both hands, Harry shot it forwards like a javelin, and his nemesis avoided him only just in time. The vampire made another sharp about face as a few people below applauded, then he held the broom steady and called, "No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy!"

Having had the same thought, the Slytherin called out, "Catch it if you can, then!" before throwing the Remembrall as high as he could into the air and streaking back towards the ground.

Instantly, Harry saw the glass ball's path and shot off after it, its descent seeming to take place in slow motion. He followed as it fell to the ground, pulling his broom into a steep dive, then levelled it out, stretched out his hand, and caught Neville's gift a mere foot from the ground before collapsing sideways off his broom and onto the grass below him.

"HARRY POTTER!" came the strident tones of Professor McGonagall. "Never... in all my time at Hogwarts... how dare you... might have broken your neck..."

"It wasn't his fault, Professor-"

"Be quiet, Miss Patil."

"But Malfoy-"

"That's enough, Mr. Thomas. Potter, follow me, now."

After catching sight of gleeful grins on the faces of Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, Harry felt sick as he followed the Transfiguration professor into the castle, up flights of stairs, and along several corridors. He now knew that he wasn't ever going to be sent back to the Dursleys, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to live with his sire after his imminent expulsion, what with the man's relationship with Hagrid. Thus his trepidation grew as he followed Professor McGonagall to a foreboding doorway.

Chapter Text

Chapter Seventeen.

Opening the door she stood in front of and poking her head around it, Professor McGonagall asked, "Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?"

At this, Harry grew scared, imagining that Wood was a cane with which he would be beaten before he was expelled, then his fear changed to confusion when a burly fifth year boy exited the classroom.

At this point, Professor McGonagall told the two boys to follow her, and they did so, Wood throwing many curious glances at the young vampire along the way to another classroom, which the three entered.

As soon as she entered the room, the Transfiguration professor said, "Out, Peeves!" to a poltergeist that was writing rude words on the blackboard, and he flung the chalk he'd been using into a bin before swooping out, cursing volubly. Once Peeves was gone, Professor McGonagall slammed the door after him, then turned to face the two boys and said, "Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood, I've found you a Seeker."

Instantly, Wood's expression changed from one of puzzlement to delight, and he asked, "Are you serious, Professor?"

"Absolutely," Professor McGonagall replied crisply. "The boy's a natural. I've never seen anything like it. Was that your first time on a broomstick, Potter?"

Silently, Harry nodded. He had no idea what was going on, but at least expulsion no longer seemed like a certainty.

"He caught that thing in his hand after a fifty-foot dive," Professor McGonagall informed Wood. "Didn't even scratch himself. Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it."

Looking as though all his dreams had come true at once, Wood excitedly asked, "Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?"

"Wood's captain of the Gryffindor team," the Transfiguration professor explained.

Walking around Harry, Wood looked him over, then suggested getting a Cleansweep Seven or a Nimbus Two Thousand for him.

"I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can't bend the first-year rule. Heaven knows, we need a better team than last year. Flattened in that last match by Slytherin, I couldn't look Severus Snape in the face for weeks...." Professor McGonagall said almost to herself. Then she added, "Oh, dear," as she remembered the relationship between her smallest lion and the professor of Potions. Suddenly, however, she looked sternly over her glasses at him and said, "If your sire allows you in the team, Potter, I want to hear that you're training hard or I may have to change my mind about punishing you." Then, smiling suddenly, she continued, "Your father would have been proud. He was an excellent Quidditch player himself."

✱   ✱   ✱

At dinner that evening, Harry told Neville and Hermione about the possibilty of him being in the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

"Seeker?" Neville gasped. "But first years never- you must be the youngest house player in about..."

"A century," said the young vampire, gulping at his fake pumpkin juice. He felt particularly hungry after the excitement of the afternoon. "Wood told me."

"Wow!" Hermione exclaimed. "I thought you were going to be in so much trouble that I couldn't say anything. I'm really glad it turned out all right for you in the end."

Just then, the Weasley twins came into the Great Hall and walked right up to Harry.

"Well done," George said in a low voice. "Wood told us. We're on the team too - beaters."

"Well, I'm not on the team yet," Harry replied. "I still have to ask my sire for his permission."

Fred groaned. "He's bound to say no. He's the head of Slytherin House, and their team is the greatest rival of Gryffindor's. Bad luck, Harry."

Sighing heavily, the twins turned away and went further down the table to a clear place on one of the benches.

✱   ✱   ✱

At one o'clock the next morning, Harry again crept into Snape's bed, not expecting the man to be awake.

"Harry, I know you're there. I also know you were there last night and the night before. Since you obviously still need my presence to sleep properly, wouldn't it be better for you to come here officially for supper, rather than sneaking here after curfew with the risk of being caught and sent back to your dormitory?"

"You know I've been here?"

"Of course."

"But you didn't do anything to me!"

Snape gave a heavy sigh. "As I've already explained, childe, you're too young for me to be interested in you that way, and you're my childe, besides."

At this, Harry gave his sire his first proper hug for days, crying out, "I'm sorry, Father! I don't mind you and Hagrid being together anymore!"

"I'm glad of that," Snape replied, dropping a kiss on the top of his childe's head. "By the way, you may join the Quidditch team if you want to."

With that, Harry snuggled into Snape's side and was soon fast asleep, and once he was, his sire crumpled the note he had written to the young vampire conferring his permission for him to join the Gryffindor Quidditch team. It was now no longer needed.

Chapter Text

Chapter Eighteen.

At breakfast the next morning, Harry almost ran into the Great Hall, flung himself into the space his friends had saved for him, and quietly but jubilantly said, "My sire said I can be in the Quidditch team!"

"Wow, that's fantastic, Harry!" Neville and Hermione exclaimed simultaneously. Then the bushy haired girl continued, "Do you know when your first practice will be?"

"No, but I thought I'd ask Wood in the common room later. Oh wait, here he is now."

Wood came up to Harry and murmured in his ear, "Our first training session is in a week. If you haven't got your own broom by then, the school will provide one for you to use." With that, the Gryffindor team captain left the Great Hall, having already finished his own breakfast.

"Looks like you'll be flying on a school broom, then. First years aren't allowed their own," Neville remarked rather gloomily.

"Well, I'd rather fly on one of those than nothing," the young vampire stated practically, and Hermione agreed.

Just then, Malfoy showed up, flanked as always by Crabbe and Goyle.

"Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the muggles?"

"About the time you learn how to make real friends instead of hiring flunkies to pal around with," Harry replied coolly. "I bet it makes you feel really brave, three against one."

This enraged Malfoy and he answered with, "I'd take you on anytime on my own. Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only - no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?"

"Of course he has," Neville said, his voice trembling slightly. "I'm his second, who's yours?"

After sizing up his cronies, Malfoy said, "I'll have Crabbe. Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the Trophy Room; the door's always unlocked."

With that, Malfoy walked away, and Hermione hissed at Harry, "You mustn't go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you're caught, and you're bound to be."

"Don't worry, Hermione," the young vampire reassured her. "I don't have to go now. Malfoy offered me an out and I'm taking it."

"What do you mean, Harry?" Neville asked curiously.

"Well, I only know from what I've read in Father's books, but don't the rules of a wizard's duel state that if you're given two different dates by the challenger, you don't have to show up on either of them and you'll still win by default?" When both of his friends confirmed that this was the case, Harry continued, "Since Malfoy said both tonight and midnight, which is the early hours of tomorrow morning, I don't have to show up at all and I'd already won the duel from the moment he gave the time."

Neville and Hermione were still laughing as they accompanied Harry out of the Great Hall on the way to their first lesson that day.

✱   ✱   ✱

By breakfast the next morning, Malfoy and Crabbe were in deep disgrace with all of their housemates, having lost Slytherin one hundred points after being caught exiting the Trophy Room at five past midnight by Professor McGonagall, and by dinnertime that evening, even the staff of Hogwarts had heard the story of how Harry had won the planned duel, his friends having spread it.

✱   ✱   ✱

Before supper that day, once Harry was in his quarters, Snape asked him, "Why don't you wear any of the new clothes I bought for you?"

"Because I don't know which ones are for me and which are for the other boy."

"Other boy? What other boy?"

"You obviously bought some clothes for someone else as well, there's too many for just one person."

"Harry, what I bought is just enough for one person, and that one person is you, no one else."

"But I only need one set of clothing and nightwear."

"Listen, childe, everybody needs more than one set of clothing if they wish to change them every day, and I bought you three nightshirts because I thought you might fancy something different from time to time."

Picking up a dark blue nightshirt that had yellow stars and a silvery moon moving across it, Harry asked, "I can really wear this?"

"Of course you can, that's why I bought it for you."

"And all the other things, the toys and the sweets?"

"They're yours as well."

That night, Harry felt like the luckiest boy in the world as he went to sleep in the new nightshirt, and the following day, Snape's plan of revenge on the Dursleys swung into place.

Chapter Text

Chapter Nineteen.

At first, Vernon Dursley wasn't sure what had woken him, then the pounding on his front door resumed along with the shouting.

"Vernon Dursley, this is the police! We have a warrant to search these premises!"

Vernon snatched on his slippers and dressing gown, ran down the stairs, and snatched the front door open just after the voice said, "Right, get the Enforcer."

"What's this about?" he growled.

"You're Vernon Dursley?"

"That's right, and neither I nor my wife appreciate being woken up at the crack of dawn like this. Do you have any idea what time it is?"

After a quick glance at his watch, the DCI said, "It's now 07:42 by my watch, Mr. Dursley, so it's hardly the crack of dawn. Now, where is your nephew, Harry Potter?"

"You mean my wife's nephew? He's attending Saint Brutus' Secure Centre for Criminally Incurable Boys. Why don't you check there?"

"That's the problem, Mr. Dursley, we have. There's no Harry Potter enrolled at that school, which makes us wonder what you've done with him."

Turning puce with combined rage and fear, Vernon blurted, "All right! All right! He's at a school in Scotland called Hogwarts!"

"Which doesn't exist. I'm afraid we have no choice but to execute this search warrant."

"Well, you can't search if you can't come in, and I'm refusing to let you."

"I thought you might say that, which is why this warrant also allows us entry into your house. Now please stand aside or we will be given no choice but to arrest you and can then conduct our investigation under Section 18(5)a of the Police and Criminal Evidence Act 1984."

Having no other choice, Vernon silently stepped aside and allowed the police entry into his house just as Petunia finally made her way downstairs.

"What is it, Vernon? Why are the police here?"

"They seem to think we've done something to the boy."

At this, two of the police officers gave each other significant looks.

"But he's away at school!" Suddenly sensing that the truth might be a good thing here, Petunia added, "In Scotland!"

"That's just what I tried telling them, Pet, but they say Hogwarts doesn't exist."

"Of course most mugg- people wouldn't know of its existence, but I do. I can even give you the address of someone who can take you there. That is, if he still lives in Coketown."

"Well, if you give the address to WS Shaw here," the DCI pointed to one of the female officers, "we can investigate that claim more fully. In the meantime, we have a search warrant to execute. Come along, team."

Over the next hour, the police conducted an intensive search, noting the fact that even though two boys were purported to live in the house, only one of them was portrayed in the family photographs. They also found the bundle of Harry's school photographs that had been reluctantly paid for, then shoved to the back of a drawer. Then one particularly sharp eyed officer saw the door under the stairs, almost hidden because of its featurelessness.

"Sir, what about here?"

"Mr. Dursley?"

"Oh, that's where me and my wife keep our cleaning supplies, although we weren't able to until recently because the boy liked to spend all his time in there. He should be too big for it by the time he comes back from school, luckily."

"Open it."

Reluctantly, but with every sign of willingness, Vernon followed the order, not expecting the gasps of horror that met his ears. He was also unable to process the next words he heard.

"Vernon Dursley, Petunia Dursley, I am arresting you on suspicion of the abuse and murder of your nephew, Harry Potter. Put the cuffs on them and take them to the car."

✱   ✱   ✱

At the police station in Staines some hours later, Vernon Dursley sat upright when he heard the hatch in his cell door being opened and closed, then he heard the jangle of keys being taken out of a pouch before it opened to reveal a male officer who said, "Mr. Dursley, it's time for your interview. Come with me, please."

Vernon got up and exited the cell, then was led along a couple of corridors to a door with a sign which read, "Interview Room 3". The police officer opened the door and showed his prisoner into a room in which sat the DCI and the female sergeant from earlier.

"Please sit down, Mr. Dursley," the DCI said once the door was closed again. Then after a tape recorder with two decks had been loaded and switched on, he continued, "This begins the interview of Vernon Dursley taking place at Spelthorne Police Station. The persons present are DCI Collins, WS Shaw, and the suspect. The time is currently 10:56 AM. Mr. Dursley, I am questioning you in relation to the abuse and murder of one Harry Potter. Although you have refused a solicitor, I am obliged to inform you that you do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand these rights as I have explained them to you?"

Although he felt far beyond understanding anything anymore, Vernon nodded numbly, then answered all the questions put to him as far as he was able. Of course, this didn't go so well since he often referred to Harry as a 'filthy freak', then someone interrupted by knocking on the door.

"Interview suspended at 11:17 AM," DCI Collins said before getting up, stopping the tape recorder, and leaving the room to talk to the person who had knocked, coming back in less than five minutes later and resuming his seat after restarting the machine.

"Interview resumed at 11:21 AM. Mr. Dursley, it has come to my attention that you applied for and were successful in claiming various benefits to help in the upbringing of your nephew-"

"My wife's nephew!" Vernon growled, but DCI Collins continued as if the interruption had not occurred.

"So now I must ask you where the money went since it's clear from the condition of the corpse we found that it wasn't spent on Harry."

Thus it was that Vernon spent a very miserable time trying to claim that Harry himself had refused food and preferred to be dressed in his oversized cousin's castoffs, neither of which claims passed muster with either of the interviewing officers.

"I thought that Mrs. Dursley would be bad, but her husband is something else!" WS Shaw exclaimed once the interview was over and Vernon had left the room. "I suppose we'll have to interview her about the misappropriated funds next?"

DCI Collins agreed, and the two police officers began to prepare the room for their third interview that day.

✱   ✱   ✱

What none of the parties in Surrey knew was that a few days earlier, Rubeus Hagrid had found a unicorn corpse in the Forbidden Forest, and just as he was going to get a spade so he could dig a grave for it, Snape had come across him while hunting for potions ingredients. After examining the badly injured body of the adolescent colt, the Potions Master had asked if he might take it, explaining that he might be able to use it to keep Harry safe, and his lover had immediately agreed. After this, Snape had enlisted the help of Minerva McGonagall in transfiguring the corpse, then had taken it to Little Whinging and bolted it securely into the cupboard under the stairs after restoring the little cubby hole to almost how it had been when it was Harry's bedroom.

It was this corpse that the police had discovered and which the adult Dursleys had been arrested for the murder of. After all, now the muggle authorities considered Harry Potter to be dead, nobody would show the least bit of surprise when he didn't show up for summer holidays the following year. Furthermore, the adult Dursleys would spend a very long time in jail for how they had treated such an important magical creature, and their son, Dudley, would be taken into care, where he would learn that other people's rights were just as important as his and he couldn't have his own way all the time.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty.

On the day of the adult Dursleys' arrest, Snape spoke to Harry in his quarters.

"Childe, I've ensured that your aunt and uncle have been arrested for the abuse they inflicted on you, and even if they are not sent to jail, nobody will expect you to go back to them. Also, it's very likely that your cousin will spend the rest of his life in care, and thus may learn not to bully others." Having said this, the Potions Master took out a faded blanket and a teddy bear, both of which had been carefully cleaned and repaired, then handed them to Harry, saying, "Here, I believe these belong to you."

The young vampire was rendered so mute with mingled shock and happiness that he was able only to fling his arms around Snape's neck in gratitude, then he took his dragon and PC Darren off into a corner, where he whispered to them that his sire was the greatest man he had ever met, causing Snape to chuckle silently. Surely Dumbledore was the greater wizard.

✱   ✱   ✱

Later that day, while Harry was in Snape's quarters after prep, Neville and Hermione showed up to visit him. The young vampire, who had been chatting happily to his bear and dragon, suddenly fell silent and became awkward.

"It's all right, childe," Snape said. "You keep playing if you want to." Then he explained to the visitors, "As a result of past traumas, Harry feels a need to allow his age to regress when he's with me, but since you're his friends, I assume that this will go no further than us four."

"Of course not, professor!" Hermione said instantly. "I know that trauma can produce such needs, so I won't let others make fun of Harry."

Neville backed her up by stoutly saying, "I don't understand it myself, but there's no need to take the mickey out of someone just because of a little thing like that."

Relaxing, Harry introduced his friends to his stuffed toys, then asked if they wanted to play a game.

"But PC Darren and Smaug get to play too!" he announced.

"Smaug?" Hermione enquired.

The young vampire nodded happily. "My dragon. I named her after the one in 'The Hobbit' when my sire read it to me."

"But Harry, Smaug is a male dragon."

"Oh, Smaug doesn't care about that. Do you, Smaug?" At this, the dragon blew a lazy puff of smoke, and Harry said, "See?" He then skipped over to the toy chest Snape had bought him and rummaged through it before pulling out a box and asking, "Want to play snakes and ladders?"

Both Hermione and Neville said yes, and Snape also decided to join in. All four humans, with Harry taking his toys' turns, had such an enjoyable game that, although she expressed disgust at the snakes swallowing the counters and passing them from their tails whenever they were landed on, Hermione immediately agreed to another when asked.

Once the second game of snakes and ladders was over, there was a knock at the door of Snape's quarters, and Harry turned towards it, exclaiming, "Supper!"

"Um, is there enough for us as well, Professor?" asked Hermione, suddenly feeling very hungry.

"Actually, since I haven't yet ordered any food, I believe this is probably Harry's special supper," Snape answered.

"But wouldn't that come in a goblet when everything else is brought?" Neville enquired.

"My childe requires at least one portion of fresh blood every day, and takes it directly from the source."

"Oh! May we stay and watch? I've never seen a vampire feed."

"It is not I that you have to ask. Harry?"

"You can stay if you want. What about you, Neville?"

The blond boy was looking rather green, but nevertheless said, "I'd like to stay if that's all right, Harry."

There was a second knock, and Snape finally bade the person enter, whereupon the door opened to reveal Silvanus Kettleburn, the Care of Magical Creatures professor. Upon seeing Hermione and Neville in the room, Professor Kettleburn hesitated, but then continued towards Harry at Snape's beckoning, holding out his one remaining arm for the young vampire to feed from. Harry delicately lifted the proffered wrist in both hands, and his eyes flashed scarlet as he sniffed at it before biting down and sucking at the flow of blood. Just a few minutes later, he had finished and was healing the wounds he had created.

"Oh!" exclaimed a surprised Neville. "There wasn't much blood, was there?"

"A messy vampire is one that isn't hungry," explained Professor Kettleburn, succinctly. "Harry knows better than to waste good food."

Once the other teacher had left the room, the Professor of Potions called for a house-elf, and not long afterwards, Harry, his friends, and Snape were enjoying sandwiches, biscuits, and goblets of pumpkin juice. After this, Harry dared to try a game of Exploding Snap, eventually enjoying himself despite the distress caused by his phobia, then his friends left for their separate dormitories while he got ready for bed.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-One.

A few nights later, Harry was sleeping his dormitory, waiting for Astronomy class to begin, when his sire walked into the room and shook him awake.

"Mr. Potter, come with me."

Neville, who had successfully arranged to switch beds with Weasley, awoke and asked what was going on.

"That is none of your concern, Mr. Longbottom," Snape said sternly, but allowed his mask to drop momentarily, and the blond boy went back to sleep, reassured.

Just then, another student looked up and cackled, "Ooh, you're in some trouble now, Potter!"

"Quiet, Weasley!" the Potions Master immediately snapped. "If I wanted your opinion, I would throttle it out of you. Go back to sleep."

With that, he left Gryffindor Tower, his childe trailing behind him, then once they were out of sight of the Fat Lady, he picked Harry up and ducked into an alcove, where he sat down with the boy on his lap.

"Because you didn't show up for supper, childe," Snape said, "you haven't yet fed. So I have come to you to make sure you do so."

"But I was going to-" Harry started to say, only to be cut off.

"Hush, not so loud. Yes, I understand that you were going to feed when you came to our quarters later, but how would you get through Astronomy class while hungry?"

Finally agreeing, Harry took the proffered wrist and fed from it, then immediately began to fall asleep afterwards, his appetite finally sated.

"All right. Just this once, childe," Snape said softly, dropping a kiss onto the messy hair as he settled himself more comfortably before also going to sleep.

✱   ✱   ✱

Two hours later, Snape woke up wondering why he was sitting up and what the heavy thing on his lap was, then he remembered and shook Harry awake, saying, "Come on, childe, go back to Gryffindor Tower. It's nearly time for your class. You don't want to get into trouble with Professor Sinistra for being late, do you?"

It was too late and two students had already exited the portrait hole from the Gryffindor common room. Luckily, however, it was only Neville and Hermione, who were looking for Harry because he hadn't returned to the tower, and Snape sent his childe to meet them. He then waited until he could hear Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, and Ron Weasley all walking together, last as usual, and exited the alcove to detain the latter for a good five minutes before dismissing him without a note to excuse his lateness to the Astronomy professor.

After sending Weasley on his way, the Potions professor then went to his office to write a letter on St. Swithin's Academy letter-headed paper, telling the police in Surrey that he believed that Hogwarts might be someone's idea of a joke since he had heard of no such school, although they might check with each of the local education authorities in Scotland. Of course, the letter was mostly a lie, but Snape would be damned if he was going to save the Dursleys' necks after what they had done to his childe, and besides, some jail time might teach them a little empathy. After all, didn't the saying go, 'Nobody likes a nonce'? And to most prisoners, killing a child was just the same as raping one. The Dursleys were going to experience something of what Harry had either way; either being beaten up on a regular basis, or having what freedom of movement was allowed within prisons severely curtailed as a result of going on Rule 43.

✱   ✱   ✱

Getting to the top of the Astronomy tower with just a few minutes to spare, the Golden Trio took their places, then a minute after the first stroke of midnight, Harry turned to Hermione and said, "Happy birthday, Hermione," then presented her with a Celestron telescope.

"Oh, Harry, thank you!" his friend exclaimed happily. "This must have cost you an absolute fortune and you barely even know me!"

"I know you well enough to know that you're a good friend," the young vampire replied. "And it didn't cost as much as the spotter scope I wanted to buy you. Father said I should probably buy you something you can keep at home though, so I got you that instead. You really like it?"

"Very much!" Saying this, Hermione flung her arms around Harry's neck, pulling away with a blush when Professor Sinistra loudly cleared her throat, glaring at the two of them.

"I didn't know it was your birthday, Hermione," Neville said apologetically. "So I couldn't get you anything, sorry. Happy birthday anyway."

"Oh, that's all right, Neville, I can just spend some time with you and my favourite five-year-old at suppertime, that's all."

At this point, Blaise Zabini, a fellow first year who had been sorted into Slytherin, leaned over and asked, "Who's your favourite five-year-old?"

"Professor Snape's pet vampire bat," Hermione replied without batting an eyelash.

"Bollocks," was the response.

"Well, who do you know that's five years old?"

"I notice you never mentioned that Potter's going to be there," Zabini said too loudly, losing Slytherin ten house points as the other three stared hard through their telescopes so as not to get caught.

Once Professor Sinistra had continued with the lesson, Hermione said quietly, "Why would I need to mention Harry's presence since it's guaranteed?"

With that, the Golden Trio turned their attentions back to the lesson in earnest, and Zabini lost Slytherin another ten points before finally giving up.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Two.

On the day of Hermione's birthday, Snape had held a small party in his quarters for her at supper, with a range of games suitable for all the different ages of the attendees, then at breakfast the next morning, Neville received a parcel from his grandmother.

"Oh, look! Cauldron cakes!"

"What's so special about them, Neville?" Harry asked, curious.

"These are homemade, and my gran makes the best cauldron cakes I ever tasted. Here, Hermione, you can have half of them as a late birthday present from me."

"But won't that leave you short?"

"Oh no, my gran sends some to me every few weeks, so it isn't like I won't have any again."

"Very well, Neville, I accept. Thank you."

Just then, a long thin parcel was dropped in front of Harry by six large screech owls, and the young vampire was about to reach for it when a letter fluttered down and landed on his hands.

"Which should I open first?" he asked. The package looked the most interesting, but he knew from Dudley's birthdays that envelopes sometimes contained gift vouchers.

"I would open the envelope first, Harry," Hermione said practically. "It might contain information about your parcel."

Sure enough, the envelope contained a letter stating the following:
DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE
It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but we don't want everybody knowing you've got a broomstick or they'll all want one. Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch field at seven o'clock for your first training session.
Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape.

Smiling slightly, Harry passed the letter first to Hermione, and then to Neville.

"Oh, wow!" the blond boy exclaimed. "It looks like you'll be in with a real chance in the first match of the season, after all, Harry!"

Even Hermione was grinning as she said, "Normally, I wouldn't expect breaking the rules to be rewarded like this, but Malfoy did break them first, and you were standing up for someone being bullied, so I suppose it's just deserts in the end. I'm really happy for you!"

Just then, one of the last owls to arrive dropped a letter at Neville's place, then gratefully pecked at the piece of sausage he gave it, holding it in one taloned foot as the boy tore open the envelope and scanned its contents, only for his mouth to drop open in shock.

"What is it, Neville? Is something wrong?" Harry asked, suddenly concerned for his friend.

"No. In fact, it's fantastic news!"

What is? What's fantastic news?" Hermione enquired.

"I can't tell you here, let's go somewhere else."

With that, the Golden Trio got up from the table, and once Harry had made sure his sire was eating in the Great Hall, they made for his quarters.

"Okay, so you probably don't know this," Neville said once the three were in private. "But my parents were aurors and were tortured by Deatheaters so badly that they wound up in St. Mungo's for the rest of their lives."

"Oh, Neville!" Hermione said in sympathy, but Neville shushed her.

"That's the thing, you see," he continued. "The doctors discovered some miracle cure, and my parents aren't just better, they're coming home tomorrow!"

"That's brilliant!" Harry exclaimed. "I'm really pleased for you."

"Me too." Hermione added.

"Well, Gran says that she wants me at home to greet my mum and dad when they return, and she says I can invite up to three friends as well. So would you both like to come?"

"I'll ask my sire," Harry said, "but he's sure to say yes."

"There's no way I'll be able to get an answer from my parents in time, even by the owl post," Hermione groaned.

"Why not ask your magical guardian?" Neville asked.

"Magical guardian?" Harry and Hermione questioned simultaneously.

"Every witch and wizard has a magical guardian. For most, it's their parents; for me, it's my gran; and for muggleborns and muggle raised students, it would be the current headmaster of Hogwarts. Well, except for you, Harry, I suppose. Your magical guardianship would have changed to Professor Snape when he adopted you."

"Oh! We're going to be late for potions if we don't get a move on!" Hermione cried out, and all three left the room as quietly as they could, thankful that they were already in the dungeons.

✱ ✱ ✱

At five o'clock that evening, since the time of the training session had had to be rearranged, Harry spent half an hour learning the rules of Quidditch from Oliver Wood, then spent another hour and a quarter chasing golf balls that the older boy threw for him to catch. Then, once he had showered afterwards, he and his friends were packed off by floo to Augusta Longbottom's house at half past seven.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Three.

Once the Golden Trio arrived at Neville's home, they were greeted by a formidable looking woman who was tall, thin, and bony, and who wore her grey hair scraped back in a bun.

"Well, hello, Neville," the woman said. "I take it that these two are the friends you invited?"

"Yes, Gran," Neville replied. "These are my best friends, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger."

"Harry Potter, eh?" Augusta Longbottom gave a sharp sniff. "You're smaller than I expected for someone who defeated Voldemort as a baby."

"I don't think I did," Harry said quietly. "I think something else must have happened, but because I was the only survivor of whatever it was, everyone thinks I did the impossible."

Augusta laughed. "At least you're honest, boy! My name is Augusta Longbottom."

Saying this, she held out her hand to Harry, who ignored it in favour of bowing slightly, causing her to look askance at him.

"Harry is a vampire," Neville hastened to explain. "So his way of meeting people is different."

"So where did you meet my grandson?" Augusta asked, peering shrewdly at Harry.

"At Hogwarts, Mrs. Longbottom."

"You're a wizard and a vampire?"

Harry nodded nervously.

"Then the Ministry can never find out about you. There's a prophecy saying that you will unite the magical world, and as a result, the interfering fools tightly control vampires to ensure it never gets fulfilled."

"What does the prophecy say exactly, Mrs. Longbottom?"

"That information has been lost to the mists of time, unfortunately, but everyone who's heard of it knows of your prominence, my Lord."

"Why do you call me that?"

"Because of how important you are to our world."

Having said this, she then held her hand out to Hermione, who shook it firmly, before finally leading the way into the house, calling out for someone named Mimsy as she did so.

"Yes, Mistress? What can Mimsy be doing for you?" a house-elf squeaked once it had appeared in the entrance hall with a loud crack.

"Ah, Mimsy. These are my grandson's guests. I'd like you to show them upstairs and make sure this boy has the best guest room we have."

"Yes, Mistress. Mimsy will be doing that straightaway. This way, Masters and Mistress, and Mimsy will show you where you be sleeping."

As the Golden Trio followed the house-elf through the entrance hall and up the stairs, Hermione hissed to Neville, "What is that?"

"You mean Mimsy? She's our house-elf. Hogwarts has them too."

"Why does Hogwarts need house-elves?"

"Do you really think Filch is able to keep all those rooms and corridors clean by himself?" laughed Neville.

"But that's terrible! They're only little."

"Oh, don't worry about it. There's more than enough of them so they don't suffer from overwork. And besides, they live to serve."

"I'm quite sure they don't. Not literally."

"No, they really do. In fact, if a house-elf is unable to serve for any reason, then they die because of it. So we allow them to serve us, and get highly faithful servants out of the bargain."

"Like a symbiotic relationship?" asked Hermione.

"Exactly," Neville answered just as Mimsy stopped in front of a door.

"This is being Master Lord Harry's room," she announced, pushing open a door into a room that was ten times as nice as any at Number Four Privet Drive.

"I can't sleep in here!" Harry exclaimed. "This is much too nice a room for me, give it to Hermione."

"Mimsy is sorry, Master Lord Harry, but Mistress is insisting. If Master Lord Harry is refusing, then Mimsy may be having to punish herself."

"But that's not fair!"

"You have to punish yourself?" Hermione enquired.

"Only if Mimsy's family disapproves of something she does is Mimsy having to punish herself," the house-elf replied firmly.

Giving a shake of his head and sighing, Harry entered the room and shut the door behind him so he could have a wash before supper, then once that meal was over, during which Augusta Longbottom agreed to a room change, he went to bed in what had originally been designated as Hermione's room, wondering what Neville's parents were like.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Four.

At eight o'clock the folllowing morning, Harry, who had eventually fallen asleep just three hours earlier, woke up wondering why he had slept in. He soon remembered where he was, however, and relaxed again before getting up to use the toilet and have a shower. Once he was clean and dressed, the young vampire went downstairs to breakfast.

✱   ✱   ✱

"Good morning, my Lord," Augusta greeted Harry as he entered the dining room in which he had eaten supper the previous night.

"Good morning, Mrs. Longbottom," he yawned. "Sorry I'm late. Hello, Hermione, Neville."

"You're not late, I'd have sent Mimsy up to fetch you if I thought you were going to be. Now, what would you like for breakfast?"

"Whatever there is is fine with me."

"Mimsy, please get Lord Harry a full breakfast."

"Yes, Mistress. Mimsy is doing it right away."

The house-elf snapped her fingers, and instantly, a plate loaded with grilled bacon, fried kidneys, grilled tomatoes, grilled sausages, fried mushrooms, poached eggs, and potato cakes appeared in front of Harry, who immediately began tucking into the food. Although he was sure that there was too much for him to manage, twenty minutes later saw him wiping up the last bit of egg yolk with his last piece of potato cake."

"Thank you, Mimsy. That was delicious," he said, knowing exactly who had cooked the meal, and Mimsy looked down shyly.

"Master Lord Harry is too kind and gracious," the house-elf said, blushing in gratitude.

"All right, are you three ready to go to St. Mungo's?" Augusta asked, and when the Golden Trio chorused that they were, she led them to a sitting room to use the floo.

✱   ✱   ✱

Once they had arrived at St. Mungo's, the four magical humans made straight for the Janus Thickey Ward, where they were met by Heracles Gloom. Once the man had introduced himself, he then went on to discuss Alice and Frank Longbottom with Augusta.

"It's really quite remarkable. We honestly thought that your son and daughter-in-law would be here for the rest of their lives, but then a boy came in and laid hands on them, and now they're almost fully recovered! They only need some quiet rest in a more familiar enviroment to complete their cure. Oh, wait! That's the boy I was talking about."

Healer Gloom's attention was fixed on Harry, who felt uncomfortable as a result of the scrutiny, and Augusta turned towards the young vampire.

"Thank you for returning Neville's parents to him, my Lord," she said quietly, then turned back towards the healer. "Of course, you'll say nothing about this to the Ministry."

"Oh no, Madame. We've already told them that the cure was the result of a happy magical accident, just in case they decided to put a block on the young man's magic. You know what they're like about underage witches and wizards having that much power."

"Thank you." With that, Augusta turned, and with the Golden Trio following her, strode from Healer Gloom's office and down the ward towards two beds on which sat the couple Harry had healed when visiting Professor Quirrel with his sire.

"Mum, Dad! How are you?" Neville asked eagerly, running up to the people and hugging them.

"Oh, is this the toddler we last saw sleeping in his cot?" the woman asked, laughing. "I can't believe how much you've grown, Neville!"

"Frank, Alice, I'm glad to see you returned to health," Augusta said.

"Well, not quite," Frank Longbottom responded. "But a few weeks' quiet rest at home should see us back at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, although it won't be as Aurors. No, we've both decided to take desk jobs. We feel it would be much safer, and the regular hours would allow us to have summer holidays with Neville."

"Are these your friends, Neville?" Alice asked, frowning slightly at Harry, but giving no other sign of recognition.

"Yes. This is Hermione Granger and this is Harry Potter."

Frank and Alice held out their hands, and although Hermione shook them happily, Harry again ignored them in favour of giving short bows.

"Don't you like to shake hands, Harry?" Alice asked, curiously.

"Not when I barely know a person. My instincts tell me that I shouldn't let myself get into a position where I can't jump out of the way of a spell if I need to."

Neville's parents' frowns deepened. From all the information they had gained during the courses given to Aurors, this was the way vampires had learned to think as a result of being hunted down, but this boy was hardly the wild-eyed, bloodthirsty hunter depicted in the illustrations and photographs of the training manuals.

"Are you a vampire, dear?" Alice asked.

"I was turned at four years old, then somehow survived for seven years after my first sire died until my second sire adopted me," Harry explained quietly.

"I see," Frank said. "Well, it's a good thing that we're no longer Aurors, or we would be obliged to inform our department about you in case you're unregistered."

"Lord Harry can't be registered as a vampire, he would be killed instantly," Augusta stated.

"Why? Oh, you're the vampire wizard?"

"I'm a wizard as well as a vampire, yes," Harry averred. "But enough about me, now. This day is about you and Neville."

With that, the party left the ward, a house-elf porter helping them with the Longbottoms' possesions, then they took the floo back to Neville's home.

As everyone in the group were waiting their individual turns to step into the green flames, Neville turned to Harry and said, "Thank you for healing my parents, Harry. That's the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me."

"Well, what are friends for?" the vampire responded. He didn't bother to inform Neville that he would have helped the Longbottoms simply because they had seemed like people who were deserving of it. He didn't want his friend to think he was sucking up to him.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Five.

Once Harry, Hermione, and the Longbottoms had returned to Neville's home, there was a small party, during which the young vampire tried to stay in the background as much as possible. This was the Longbottoms' day, he really didn't enjoy attention, and while it had been quite funny at first, he was now thoroughly fed up with being addressed as 'my Lord' by people who were older than him. Thank God that Neville still called Harry by his first name, despite his grandmother's attempts to make him show 'due deference'. After this, they had played board games for the rest of the day, breaking off only for lunch, dinner, and supper. Once the latter meal was eaten, they all retired into a sitting room to read books while listening to the radio, then the young people went up to bed at half past nine while the adults stayed up a little longer.

The next day, which was a Sunday, Harry and Hermione accompanied the Longbottoms to church, where they had never been before, receiving a warm welcome from the Unitarian minister, then once they had returned to the house, they again played board games until dinner, after which they travelled back to Hogwarts through the floo.

✱   ✱   ✱

The moment he picked himself up off the floor of the headmaster's study, Harry was very grateful to see a familiar face.

"Father!" the young vampire exclaimed, flinging himself into his sire's arms. "I missed you so much and I couldn't sleep!"

"Well, you're back now, childe," Snape chuckled. "Did you have a good time?"

"Not very," Harry answered, wrinkling his nose. "Neville's parents and grandmother kept calling me 'Lord Harry' all the time, and nothing I could say would stop them. Mrs. Longbottom even got her house-elf to call me it, too."

The Potions Master shot a questioning glance at Neville, and the blond boy said, "Harry's the vampire wizard from a prophecy Gran and my parents know about. It's because of it that they think he's a lord, so they're following the tradition."

"I see. Well, now you know how uncomfortable it makes my childe, could you possibly get them to desist, or should Harry and I have a word with them?"

"I think it would be best if all three of us talked to them, sir."

"Very well, Mr. Longbottom. Thank you for your suggestion. Now, shall we retire to my quarters for the rest of the evening? My father is there and wishes to see you all again."

The Golden Trio tentatively agreed, wondering who Snape's father might be that he had met them before, and were soon being led to the dungeons by the professor of Potions.

✱   ✱   ✱

"Hello, children!" a cheery voice greeted the three students as they entered the sitting room in Snape's quarters, and they were startled to see the twinkling blue eyes of Professor Dumbledore.

"What? But we were expecting Professor Snape's father!" Hermione exclaimed. "Why are you here instead?"

"Oh dear," Dumbledore chuckled. "I believe you should explain, Severus, my boy."

"Harry, Miss Granger, Mr. Longbottom. Professor Dumbledore is my adoptive father, and has raised me since the age of thirteen."

"You are my grandsire, then?" Harry enquired, and upon receiving confirmation of this fact, gave a short bow to the headmaster and said, "I cordially greet you, Grandfather."

Dumbledore chuckled again and said, "So formal for one so young! Now, I understand from Severus that you sometimes have a need to act in a manner much younger than your chronological age, so if you should wish to do so during any of my visits here, you may without fear of censure or ridicule from me."

The moment these words were spoken, Harry got his stuffed toys and a Monopoly set from his toy chest, then started to set up the board game.

"I'm going to be the man riding the hippogriff!" he announced happily. "What do you want to be, Smaug? How about you, PC Darren?"

Once the toys' selections had been made for them, the other humans made theirs, and they had a very enjoyable game, at the end of which the vampire was declared the clear winner, having managed to purchase Diagon Alley, Knockturn Alley, and Platform 9¾.

Once the Monopoly set had been packed back into its box, Harry returned it to his toy chest, then pulled out 'The Little Prince' and skipped over to his sire, pulled him onto the couch, and handed him the book before clambering onto his lap for a story.

"Shall we start from the beginning for the others, Harry?" Snape asked his childe, and upon receiving confirmation, opened the book at the first chapter after announcing the title and author's name.

As the Potions Master's mellifluous voice read out the words written nearly five decades before, the others sat spellbound with the muggle magic thus woven, until Snape closed the book after reading five chapters.

"Wow!" gasped Neville. "That author wrote some really strange stuff, but it's really good!"

"Yes," Hermione agreed. "Where did you find that story, Professor Snape? I think my young cousins would really enjoy it."

"It's an old muggle story that my mother used to read to me," the Potions professor stated. "In fact, Miss Granger, I'm surprised you haven't heard of it already."

"Did my mother ever read to me, Father?" Harry asked suddenly.

"I don't know, childe," Snape found himself saying. "We were no longer friends by then. However, knowing what a good and kind person Lily was, I'm sure she would have since she must have loved you very much. In fact, it wouldn't surprise me if you were the whole world to your parents, since I know they willingly gave up their lives just to make sure that you didn't die. They must have cursed the very day some interfering fool decided to place you with your aunt and uncle."

At this, Dumbledore bowed his head and allowed a single tear to run down the wrinkles of his face and soak into his beard, then he looked up again and said, "I was that interfering fool, my boy, and I'm very sorry I made the decision I did that November day."

"That's all right, Grandfather," Harry said magnanimously. "I have my sire now, and no one can make me go back to the Dursleys, can they?"

"No, Harry," the Potions Master said. "And just to make sure that no one tries, I had Father register an adoption bond between you and I at the Ministry. As far as anyone's concerned, we are legally father and son, and they can't take you away without firm evidence of the bond having been broken through abuse, since it was a willing one."

With that, the young vampire flung his arms around his sire's neck and peppered his cheek with kisses, then hugged him hard before sitting back on his lap, Snape chuckling all the while in a manner most unbecoming to the Bat of the Dungeons.

✱   ✱   ✱

In bed later that night, Snape saw the smile still gracing his childe's face as he slept, and he chuckled silently as he dropped a kiss onto the perpetually messy hair. It seemed that Harry's recovery was coming on apace as his trust in the Potions Master grew.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Six.

After classes the next day, one of which was Harry's favourite, Snape took his childe to one side as he was making his way to the Great Hall for dinner.

"Harry, I would like to entertain Hagrid tonight in a way that's not really suitable for someone of your age to witness. So just for tonight, are you able to sleep in the bedroom that was made for you in my quarters?"

After two nights away from his sire, Harry wanted nothing more than to have him close. However, he also wanted him and his boyfriend to be happy, so he nodded in agreement. It would only be for one night, after all.

✱   ✱   ✱

After supper that night, Harry was put to bed with two chapters of 'The Little Prince', Smaug and PC Darren on either side of him in his previously unused bed, then he concentrated on the near impossible task of getting to sleep. After a couple of hours, however, he realised that he either had to be next to his sire, or resign himself to not falling asleep until dawn. Remembering Snape's tryst, though, the young vampire settled for playing quietly in the sitting room, hoping the increased proximity would help.

✱   ✱   ✱

After an hour and a half of groans and gasps punctuated by noisy kissing, and even Hagrid once muttering, "Oh, yeh feel so big inside me, Sev'rus!" Snape's bedroom finally fell silent, and after waiting for several more minutes, Harry quietly pushed open the door, taking heart when he saw that the two men were indeed asleep.

As carefully as he could so as not to wake the sleepers, Harry crossed the floor of his sire's bedroom, then put his stuffed toys beside the bed before getting onto it and slipping under the covers between Snape and Hagrid. Within seconds, he was fast asleep.

✱   ✱   ✱

The next morning, Snape woke up to Hagrid reaching for him.

"Would yeh like a mornin' wake up?"

"Mmm, that would be nice," the Potions Master responded before realising that someone else's arm was flung over him. "Wait, we can't. Harry's here."

"Tha's all righ'," Hagrid said. "I can jus' get rid o' this the way I used ter."

Just then, the vampire awoke, and seeing the frown on his sire's face, immediately said, "I'm sorry, but I couldn't sleep. I tried and tried, but I just couldn't!"

"Hush, childe," Snape soothed. "I'm not angry with you. I'm simply cross with myself for not thinking of having Hagrid sleep with me while you were at the Longbottoms'. I shall just have to plan these nights more carefully until we come up with a better solution. How about I have Hagrid over only on Saturdays? That's only one night a week with you away from me, so your sleep should suffer less."

Happy with this solution, Harry nodded eagerly, and once Hagrid came back out of the bathroom several minutes later, he also agreed with the plan.

"Sev'rus is right," the half-giant said. "We should've considered yer needs more carefully since yeh're still a young'un."

✱   ✱   ✱

During breakfast, Dumbledore spoke quietly to Snape.

"You and Harry are excused from lessons today because he is due to have some rather important visitors. You may use my study, since I believe he won't appreciate the presence of strange vampires in your quarters."

"Thank you, Father," the professor of Potions murmured, then he left the table to see if his childe had also finished.

✱   ✱   ✱

Several minutes later, curious but wary, Harry was studying each of a group of three vampires as they told him how they had found him.

"A few weeks ago, one of our kind was hunting from the rooftops of Knockturn Alley - heavily shrouded, you understand - when she saw a vampire childe being led along it towards Diagon Alley. Curious because of the clothes this childe was wearing, she told us about him, and after many long debates on the matter, we decided to try and find him. If you are who we think you are, then you are the Saviour of the Wizarding World in a way that not even your headmaster suspects."

"Is this about the prophecy?" Snape asked.

"It is. Do you know it? I would not imagine that humans still possessed that knowledge."

"We do not, and as a result, my childe also remains in the dark."

The vampire delegation drew in their collective breaths at this as the Potions Master continued, "Will you recite it for us?"

"Very well," the leader of the delegation, a vampire named Sanguini, said. Then he recited:

"Vampire wizard with mortal sire
Though 'gainst him two worlds conspire
Will unite all magical kind
And in eternal amity bind
Then the universe will sing
Of the vampire wizard king"

"Is that why Mrs. Longbottom insists on calling me Lord Harry?" the young vampire enquired after taking this in.

"Indeed. In fact, we would be addressing you the same way as our traditions dictate, had not your grandsire already indicated to us your distaste of the title. However, we do feel it would be best if you could learn to accept it since you will one day be entitled to a far grander one, and people of our species will wonder why you are still called just Harry when you are our king."

"If you are of a different species, how is it possible for you to turn humans?" Snape asked.

Sanguini smiled at the intelligence behind the question as he answered, "Accurately speaking, we are a sub-species. The Latin name of your sub-species is Homo sapiens sapiens, while the name of ours is Homo sapiens sanguivorus. When a mortal is turned into one of us, it is done through the introduction of our blood into their bloodstream, and this triggers a disease in them which, if they survive it, will effect the necessary changes in their DNA. Since this change is permanent, we do not offer it to those unable to fully understand the implications of it, so the one who turned your childe was either a rogue, or being hunted."

Over the next couple of hours, during which Harry gained even further in confidence, there was the exchange of many questions and answers, then the delegation left with the promise of future visits from other vampires as well as themselves.