Harry was sitting on the potty, grinning at Snape. Snape folded his arms and looked at the toddler with mild distaste.

‘Potter, where have the figures gone?’

Molly Weasley, upon hearing that Harry was now two-and-a-half, had sent up another trunk load of stuff for him; with her brood she had things for every occasion and enjoyed supplying them. Amongst other things, there were miniatures of the different Quidditch players that Ron and his brothers had collected. Snape had left Harry’s hands occupied with three of the Chudley Cannons. Under advice by Molly, he was now placing Harry on the potty first thing on a morning and after a meal, in the hope that he would ‘go’. Harry, however, with his typically short attention span, kept getting up. The previous morning this had resulted in a little accident on Snape’s treasured rug and Harry had been inconsolable. Snape had decided, then, to give him some toys to keep him amused while he sat.

‘Figures flew away,’ Harry said, holding his chubby arms up in a shrug, as though he couldn’t think where they might have gone to.

‘The figures did not fly away, Potter,’ Snape said, an eyebrow arching on his pale forehead so that it almost disappeared into the black, slick hairline.

‘I forget,’ Harry said deviously.

Snape, knelt down in front of Harry so that their faces were level. ‘I’m going to ask you again, Potter’ he said firmly, trying out the technique Molly had shown him, ‘where are the toys I gave you?’

Harry, however, was not falling for it. He smiled up at Snape angelically and waved his arms around showing how the figures might have looked as they flew away. He could feel something in his lower stomach pressing urgently and knew that any moment he was going to be able to play swimming with the little men on broomsticks. He had put them in his potty, giggling when they had muttered to each other in disgust. They were funny little men.

‘Potter!’

Snape reached forward and lifted Harry off the little red potty seat so that his legs dangled in the air. Harry kicked with all his might, wriggling in Snape’s arms, angry that he had been caught out. Sure enough, Snape found that the toys in the bottom.

‘Toys don’t go in there, Potter’ he said shortly, pursing his lips at the smiling two-year-old. ‘I told you that yesterday.’

Harry’s face crumpled up. ‘My Potty, my toys!’ he insisted. ‘My’ seemed to be his favourite word at the moment.

‘A potty is not a toy,’ Snape insisted, ‘If you can’t behave on it then I’m going to put your nappy back on.’

Harry looked at the man sullenly, ‘No nappy,’ he said desperately. He wanted to be a big boy and make the lion on the little plastic potty roar. Snape was still putting a nappy on Harry during the night, but in the day time he had been using some special pull-up nappies that muggles used. Harry liked his ‘big boy’ pull-ups and didn’t want to give them up.

‘Then be good,’ Snape said. He took the toys out of the, thankfully dry, potty and put Harry back on it, handing him the frowning and muttering Cannon players. He then crossed the room to make breakfast, wondering how exactly, with all this babysitting, he was ever going to act upon the invaluable information he had received from Lucius Malfoy. It had been two days since their meeting.

Lucius, though Snape knew he had not told him everything, had relayed the death-eaters hit on the muggle children. Much to Snape’s relief they had not been killed but kidnapped, which, though was itself worrying, nevertheless gave him some hope that they may be returned to Maura Pickles sometime in the near future – with a little help from the Order. Lucius had given the impression that the kidnapped children were to perform as guinea-pigs for a powerful curse. Luckily the planned ‘experiments’ were not taking place for several weeks – enough time for more muggles to be taken – and so Snape had a bit of time.

Lucius had taken great pleasure in telling Snape that the Dark Lord had entrusted him with the task of developing and testing, under supervision, his latest piece of black magic. Snape hadn’t been surprised. Lucius was a highly skilled spell-maker. He had invented many curses, both legal and illegal; in fact, ironically, some of them were even used by the Aurors at the Ministry in their pursuit of black wizards and witches.

Lucius had been less forthcoming about the nature of the spell, and Snape hadn’t pushed him on it - after all he already had a fair idea of what it was. As Lucius had spoken, the murky cloud that was fogging Snape’s brain had lifted and the pieces of the puzzle had flown together; as easily as the fragments of broken glass repaired by the flick of a wand. It was evident to Snape that the Dark Lord was taking muggle children to test the spell that Draco had inadvertently cast upon Potter.

The question was, why? Why had Voldemort chosen children to test the spell when he had a multitude of lap-dogs just as willing to surrender themselves? There were only two answers that Snape could think of. Firstly, the spell was too dangerous and still in its early stages. This didn’t quite add up with the successful result on Potter, but, then again, it depended what the intention of it was in the first place. Secondly, and most worryingly, there was no counter curse. There was also the third option that the spell was being developed specifically for muggles or their children, but Snape didn’t think that very likely – after all why would Voldemort want a lot of screaming muggle babies on his hands?

Snape wasn’t sure yet what he was going to do with the information he had gathered. His first instinct had been to go straight to Dumbledore, but he had decided to think on it a while first. He wondered wryly if ‘thinking on it’ was just a ruse to cover cowardice on his part. He knew that Dumbledore was going to be very disappointed that Snape had effectively gone behind his back to find out more from Lucius. He had a feeling that when they met it would be a very uncomfortable interview; Dumbledore had the polite, but, nevertheless, very real knack of getting under a person’s skin.

Snape knew that he would be seeing Lucius again in a few days at the Quidditch tournament, and he realised that he had to speak to Dumbledore before then. He fully intended to press Lucius further if he could get him on his own. It had been a stroke of luck finding out about Voldemort’s plans (the Dark Lord often kept his plans from him in case he was 'discovered' as a double agent and questioned by the ministry), and he was going to take full advantage of the fact that he had something over Lucius.

Snape was roused from his musings by the sound of a lion roaring. He looked over to Harry and saw that he was very pleased with himself. Snape coughed slightly, the praise Madame Pomfrey had told him to lavish on the toddler every time he ‘went’ sticking in his throat.

‘I wee-wee in potty,’ Harry said smugly.

‘Er, very good Potter,’ Snape said awkwardly. He crossed the room as Harry struggled with his pyjama bottoms, the two leg-holes making his little face screw up with concentration.

‘Just a moment,’ Snape said, ‘you need pull-ups.’ As he picked up Harry, however, he saw something that made him purse his lips. The Chudley Cannon figures were all floating face down in the potty.

‘No swim,’ Harry said sadly. His experiment had been a failure. The little Quidditch Players had all drowned.

‘Humph!’ said Snape. He transported Harry to the changing mat and, ignoring his squirming and protests, brusquely secured him inside a regular nappy.

‘Big-boy pants,’ Harry protested, kicking out against Snape’s hands as he worked.

‘You may have them if you behave yourself, Potter,’ Snape said, holding his legs together in one hand, firmly, as he finished, ‘not until.’ He picked the sulky toddler up and placed him in his play pen. ‘We will try again after you’ve eaten.’

Harry, however, had a plan. As soon as Snape’s back was turned he pulled off his little red trousers and wriggled a leg out of his nappy. Once he had one leg out, the rest was easy and he was soon running around in just the T-Shirt of his pyjamas. He ran from side to side of the play pen, enjoying his new found freedom until he was dizzy.

Snape didn’t seem to be taking any notice at first. He was reading The Prophet as the coffee pot boiled itself and milk heated up on the stove. However, Harry couldn’t resist drawing attention to himself, to see what the batman would say about this latest piece of cleverness, and so he made zooming noises loudly. As Snape looked up Harry was rewarded by a withering glare.

‘Nappy off!’ Harry said with a wide smile. Snape got to his feet and crossed the room and, without further ado, picked Harry up, transporting him once more to the changing mat – quickly in case there were any more accidents. He held Harry still as he secured the nappy back in place.

‘Nappy on,’ Snape said firmly; ‘I won’t tell you again. You need it until you can use the potty like a “big-boy”.’

Snape felt himself colour at the baby terms he had been forced to use, but it was the only way he seemed to be able to get Potter to understand him. He placed Potter back in his play-pen. Five seconds later and the process started again.

By the time Molly Weasley appeared Snape was harassed. They had played the undressing; dressing game three times before Snape had cracked and cast a fastening spell that meant that no matter how much Harry squirmed and pulled at the garment it would not budge. This had upset Harry immensely as he thought he had been very clever in getting the better of the batman, and felt much freer in the open air. He had cried for ten minutes solid, screaming with a very healthy set of lungs and flinging himself so dramatically that Cheep-Cheep had flown away in alarm. Snape hadn’t taken any notice and this had made Harry feel even more like screaming. He hated being ignored.

Everything seemed to Harry to be unfair today. Why did the batman always want to spoil his fun, and what gave him the right to? Harry didn’t stop Snape doing what he wanted to. Why couldn’t Harry wee all over the floor if he wanted, and why did he have to eat a stupid mushy, yellow breakfast? He wanted to play, not eat. In the end, he had catapulted the first two spoonfuls of eggs high over his head. He was trying to do it when Snape’s back was turned so that he wouldn’t know he hadn’t eaten it, but his reflexes were a bit slow.

‘Potter!’

Harry, spurred on by the reaction, had then overturned the whole bowl onto the floor, giggling as he did so, but really watching to see what Snape would do. He was sick of the batman’s stupid ‘looks’, they weren’t much fun at all, and he wanted to see if he could make him shout. It was a little game between them that only Harry knew about.

The game had got even more interesting when Snape had made the mistake of letting Harry down from his high-chair. Encouraged by this bit of freedom, Harry had decided entertain himself by playing an even funnier game. He knew really that it was naughty to go into the cupboard – Snape had told him it was the day before – but it was too tempting. He had the bottles of inks out before the potions master had known what was happening. The silvery rug was now stained for the second time in as many days. This time with indigo swirls. As Harry had looked down at his hands he had found that they were bright blue. That was when Snape had caught him out.

Now he was in the bath squealing to be let out – he hated getting clean.

‘What a racket!’ Molly Weasley said as she entered Snape’s quarters and went to the bathroom, where most of the noise was taking place. She could see that Harry and Snape had equal expressions of frustration – both being quite (unusually) red in the face. Harry’s green eyes were filled with disgust as he splashed about and carried on in the tin bath and Snape seemed to be almost at breaking point.

‘What is all that fuss about, young man?’ she said sternly. Harry pouted as he looked up at the busy-body fire-women who didn’t let him get away with any nonsense.

‘Me good,’ he lied, as though anticipating her next question.

‘Has he been giving you trouble?’ Molly said brightly, casting her eye over the spoiled rug. She rolled up her sleeves. ‘Go and have a nice cup of tea dear and I’ll finish giving Harry his bath and clean up that mess.’

‘No!’ Harry said, his bottom lip starting to tremble. He brought his arms down ferociously into the water, causing a huge splash that sent bubbles flying everywhere. ‘Snape bath, not you!’

‘Stop that right now!’ Molly said, pushing Snape gently out of the way before he throttled the toddler. ‘You are being very naughty, Harry. I’m going to bath you and we’re going to have a little talk about what happens to naughty little boys. Go on, Severus dear, its okay, me and Harry are going to have a little chat.’

Snape didn’t need telling again. He left the room without another word.

Ten minutes later and Harry was bathed and dressed, complete with big-boy pull-ups, being led by the hand into Snape’s inner quarters. Snape was reclined in the easy-chair, cup of tea in hand. He hardly ever rested in such a way, but after a morning with Potter he felt, for once, that he deserved it.

‘Harry has something he would like to say, haven’t you Harry?’ Molly said encouragingly. Harry looked shyly up at Snape. Molly had explained to him how when he was naughty it made Snape upset. Harry had been slightly dubious about that – after all it was him that ended up crying. But she had said that grown-ups sometimes show their feelings upset in different ways, like shouting, and Snape certainly did a lot of that. She had also said that if he was naughty again then he would have to be punished, and though he wasn’t exactly sure what that meant he had the feeling that it wasn’t very nice.

He pulled on the sleeves of his red and gold sweatshirt avoiding looking directly at the batman. Being ‘naughty’, though it was fun and he would do it again, gave him an uncomfortable feeling in his belly.

‘Harry?’ Molly prompted.

‘I’m sowwry,’ he said at last.

‘Good-boy, Harry,’ Molly said. ‘See that wasn’t so difficult was it?’

Harry shook his head.

‘And Professor Snape forgives you, don’t you Severus?’

It was Snape’s turn to feel uncomfortable. Why was it that every time Molly came to visit (which was far more frequent than he would like) she made him feel like he was the two-year-old and not Potter. ‘Yes,’ he said shortly.

Harry beamed. He ran up to Snape and scrambled to get on his lap. With Molly as a witness, Snape felt that he couldn’t stop him and so sighing, he hoisted him up.

‘Me big boy pants,’ Harry said, pointing to his trousers.

‘Very good, Potter,’ Snape said with an air of resignation.

‘I just came by to check how everything was going,’ Molly said. She hesitated before continuing. ‘Sirius tells me that you came to see him at headquarters.’

Malice crept back into Snape’s eyes as he replied. ‘Black is delusional.’

‘You didn’t go to see him?’

‘I have rather more important matters to attend to than chasing around after Black.’

‘I see.’ Molly paused, wondering how she should continue. ‘You shouldn’t be so hard on Sirius you know. It’s not his fault that the ministry have him down as a mass-murderer. I think being cooped up in his mother’s house is really getting to him.’

Snape looked scornfully at Molly. ‘I’m sure that many, many years he spent in Azkaban have more than prepared him for extended periods of seclusion in uncomfortable environments.’

Molly sighed. She knew she was fighting a losing battle trying to get the two men to put aside their differences. ‘Well now I’m here would you like me to take Harry off you for a while? I have the morning spare and I’m sure you have things to do and classes to teach.’

‘No go!’ Harry said, grabbing fistfuls of the batman’s cloak tightly. He had only just made friends with Snape again and now he wanted to sit on him and talk. Anyway, he hated it when he couldn’t see Snape; he was always worried that he wouldn’t come back.

‘It’s okay, Harry,’ Molly said, smiling at the way Harry seemed to have taken to the potions master, ‘It won’t be forever. Severus will be back soon.’

As Molly reached out to detach the toddler from his beloved guardian, Harry felt real tears well up in his eyes. It had been such a tiring day. His face crumpled up as Snape handed him over.

‘No go!’ he wailed. Molly cradled him in her arms gently. ‘You’re a tired little boy, aren’t you?’ she said in a soft voice. She pulled him to her as the tears rolled down his cheeks. ‘Sshhh now, shhhh; its okay.’ She smiled at Snape, taking his expression of nausea at her babying of Harry for concern.

‘Don’t worry Severus, he’s just going through a phase. They’re all like this when they get to two – naughty and screaming one minute and upset and teary the next. That’s why they call it the terrible twos. Believe me, with Fred and George for children I know all about it. You go and do what you have to; I’ll get him a bottle and put him down for a nap. Sometimes they like to be babied.’

Harry couldn’t even be bothered protesting at the word ‘nap’. He snuggled tightly into the fire-woman as she cradled him and rocked him back and forth, letting him get rid of all his frustration by crying into her shoulder. After a few moments the urgency of his cries subsided and instead he put his fingers in his mouth to slurp on, tucking his head into her shoulder and enjoying the feling of being held. He forgot that he had been mad at Mwolly now that she was making him feel safe, and was pleased that she was going to give him a bottle. He liked drinking out of his little sippy-cup like a big boy, but he had missed his bottle and the nice warm feeling it gave him as he drifted off to sleep.

Snape got to his feet, suddenly desperate to get away from the domestic scene. It was giving him an unfamiliar feeling. It was almost like he was going to miss having Harry to annoy him for a few hours. He had felt it the other day when he had left him with Hermione and Ron. At the time he had thought it was apprehension about meeting with Lucius, but now he wasn’t so sure. He shook the thought from him – he was probably just tired.

‘I will be back in a few hours,’ he said. He decided that he was going bite the bullet and go and see Dumbledore – after all the sooner he did, the sooner they could come up with a plan.

‘Take your time,’ Molly said, ‘we’ll be alright here.’

Harry was too busy being cuddled to look up as Snape left and Molly indicated that he should go without making a fuss.

It wasn’t till he got half-way down the corridor that Snape realised that he felt strange about not saying good-bye.