Snape woke up to the sound of Harry screaming. Sighing he rose from bed and crossed his quarters to Harry’s bedroom. The boy was twisted in his blankets, and instead of his head being near the headboard where it should be, it was at the bottom and hidden under blankets. It was obvious that the child was panicking and so Severus stepped in to detangle him.

‘Come, Potter,’ he said, deftly pulling the red and gold duvet off the small head so Harry could breathe, ‘calm down.’

‘Darky,’ Harry whined. He sat up in bed. He had been very confused when he had woken up and opened his eyes only to be greeted by darkness and the feeling that he wasn’t where he should be. The more he had struggled against the blankets, though, and the more he had tried to find a light, the more he seemed to be pinned down. It was like a monster’s invisible arms were sucking him into a big black hole. He was very relieved, then, when Nape’s strong arms pulled him to the surface and he sat gulping the air for a few moments and appreciating the morning light that filtered in through the narrow windows high above them.

‘Safe,’ he said beaming

‘Of course you’re safe,’ Severus said irritably, ‘you’re in bed where you always are!’

‘Blanky monster,’ Harry said unconvinced. It never seemed to happen when Nape was about, but he was sure that the blankets came alive at night. He loved his big boy bed, but the sheets were a bit mean. They didn’t seem to like him very much and there had been more than once occasion where they had tried to drown him.

Now that Harry was up, Snape decided that it would be useless to try and make him sleep again. It was only six in the morning, but Snape was used to early rises – he wasn’t a good sleeper himself and never had been. He was of the opinion that sleep was expendable, and that once you were awake it was more than time for the day to begin.

‘Time to get dressed,’ he said.

Harry immediately jumped out of bed. He followed Snape over to the cupboards which held his clothes.

‘Pumpkin jumpy,’ he commanded.

Severus raised an eyebrow. Potter, when given the option, always wanted his pumpkin jumper. Still it was easier to give in than to argue and so he helped the toddler into his favourite item of clothing. Next Harry grabbed the small black cloak.

‘Big-boy robes,’ Harry said with a grin, pulling it round his shoulders. He liked it because it made him look and feel just like a mini version of the batman.

‘Very well,’ Snape said. He then helped him into a pair of clashing purple trousers that Harry insisted upon.

‘Hungwy,’ Harry complained once he was dressed.

‘Time for breakfast, then,’ Snape said.

He made Harry a plate of scrambled eggs and poured himself a large mug of tea, not being inclined to eat either if he could help it.

Harry took his place on a booster seat at the table without argument. He smiled at the empty space Tommy’s high-chair had once occupied. He was enjoying having the batman’s full attention – even if he was reading the Noose-paper. ‘Nape stay with Hawwy today?’ he asked between mouthfuls.

‘Eat don’t gobble!’ Snape chided automatically as the boy shovelled the food into his mouth, the majority of it missing and falling onto the table. He leafed through the Daily Prophet, noting with some satisfaction the presence of another story on the Madness Behind Harry Potter. They were still speculating on the confinement of the wizarding world’s most famous celebrity - with most of the speculation revolving around the sanity of the teenage Harry. Noting the way that Potter was now trying to spoon his scrambed eggs up his nose, Snape was inclined to think that they were no too far from the truth.

‘Nape stay with Hawwy,’ Harry pressed after a few moments, realising that the Batman had not answered him.

‘For today, yes,’ Snape said eventaully. Dumbledore had arranged for him to have cover from his lessons from Professor Grubbly-Plank so that the two of them could spend some time together.

‘Park?’ Harry asked.

Snape looked dubiously at his charge. He had been thinking they would have to go out somewhere. It would be no good trying to keep Potter in with him all day, they would both be drive to madness, and the small pale face did suggest that it was time for a bit of fresh air. Snape himself never ventured far into the outdoors, which was why his skin always held a pasty pallor. He liked nothing better than to be in the quiet dark of the dungeon brewing potions or reading a thick book of spells. Unfortunately, toddlers seemed to thrive in the fresh air. The advantage for Snape was that it tended to tire Harry out.

Snape, however, had another destination than the park in mind. As he had lain awake the night before a rare childhood memory had popped into his head quite unexpectedly. It was of him and his mother exploring rock pools at the seaside. Snape remembered the slithering moss and seaweed beneath his feet which he had made his mother slide off the rocks in a fit of giggles. He remembered and the cold sea air whipping his skin and the vaguely pleasant scent of salt and seaweed. His mother had turned over large stones in the shallow pools revealing scuttling crabs that he had put in his pocket to study later. She had also bought him a red plastic net to try and catch the schools of small fish which swam to and fro like an army of silver worms. Snape had been frustrated when they had slipped easily through the too-wide holes woven between nylon ropes, but his mother again had laughed. It was strange, Snape never remembered his mother to smile much at all. But this day, without the oppressive presence of his father she had seemed contented.

Later, on the promenade, they had eaten ice-cream until his stomach had hurt and browsed the shops on the high street where they had bought sticks of rock as thick as his arms and creatures made out of sea shells.

Snape was unsure why he had not remembered the day before.

‘We’re going to the seaside,’ he announced silkily.

Harry’s eyes lit up. He didn’t quite know what the seaside was but it sounded wonderful. He jumped down from his seat.

‘Now Nape,’ he said eagerly pulling at the sleek black robes.

‘No, not now, Potter. First you will finish your breakfast.’

‘Me finish,’ Harry said quickly dropping his spoon.

‘No you’re not. I want to see you eat at least three more spoonfuls. Then you are going to use the potty, and then, and only then, if you’re good we will go.’

Harry sighed and clambered back up on his chair. ‘Okay Nape,’ he said, as though it was the biggest trial in the world. He wanted to do as he was told in case the batman changed his mind, but he inside he pouted at the way grown-ups were always putting obstacles in the way of fun. If it was up to Harry things like eating and sitting on the potty would always come second to having fun. Still he had to play Snape along and so he picked up his spoon to finish his breakfast.

The second disappointment to Harry came just before they left Snape’s quarters. To the toddler’s dismay, Snape clicked his fingers and pushchair appeared.

‘In you get, Potter,’ he said.

Harry’s bottom lip began to tremble almost immediately.

‘Walky,’ he said edging slowly away from the contraption.

‘You can walk some of the time, but for now please get in so we can go.’

As Harry hesitated, Snape lost his patience and reached down and hoisted him into the pushchair, fastening the straps quickly before he could make a fuss. Harry wriggled and squirmed, but he decided to let himself be strapped in; after all if he didn’t Snape might decide not to take him.

‘Cheep-Cheep?’ he said in small voice.

Snape looked at him. Without a word, he picked the stuffed bird off the table and handed it to the toddler, who gave him a big gummy grin.

‘Thanks Napey.’

‘Humph!’

Before he apparated, Snape left a message for Dumbledore as to their whereabouts. He could well imagine the twinkle in the headmaster’s blue eye when he found out where he was taking the boy. Still, at least he now had only one toddler to deal with, and he felt that putting a bit of distance between him and Hogwarts might be beneficial. His always-alert brain told him that he was on the verge of a breakthrough and he had already made up his mind that he was going to drop in on the Burrow on the way back and examine the Pickle child again. There was something that he must have missed. He had the feeling that talking to the mother would help, but as yet Dumbledore had advised against him meeting with her.

Hermione was laid in bed, uncharacteristically late in rising for breakfast. She needed some thinking time and she could only do that without the presence of the other girls. There were too many distractions when they were in the room too – Parvati Patil’s grunting snoring, like she were a pig rolling around happily in a pit of mud, or Lavendar Brown’s strange sleeping giggles (she was even annoying in her sleep Hermione thought quite smugly). Now, though she was alone and she could really focus. She had been tossing and turning all night with only one thought in her head – Lucius Malfoy.

Hermione had not been able to forget the corridor that she and Ron had stumbled upon whilst searching Hogwarts for Tommy. After the day of the Quidditch match, she had more or less satisfied herself that Lucius had been using whatever secret passage he had uncovered to hide himself, but when she thought back over it something didn’t quite add up. In her minds eye she saw a slight bulk to his robes when he left and the satisfied flush to his face. Had he been performing magic? She didn’t think so. She remembered how he had made Draco light the lamps in the corridor of the dungeons. It was obvious that he did not want to use his own wand. Hermione knew that any magic he performed in Hogwarts – secret passage or not – would be traceable by the ministry should it ever be necessary to do so. What then had he been doing? Retrieving something? He had been a student at Hogwarts for seven years himself. Perhaps there was something that he had left that he wanted back? But even that didn’t make sense. He could have used Draco for such a menial task as that.

Then there were the midgie-dragons. She was convinced that they had been guarding something that Lucius removed. She cast her mind back over her years at Hogwarts. She tried to remember when Lucius had ever been to Hogwarts to watch Draco play Quidditch before. There had only been one occasion – and that had been the year that he had passed Tom Riddle’s diary on to Ginny. She remembered the look of scorn on his face that year when Draco had fallen from his broom. He didn’t seem to give two flicks of a wand about Draco. He had had an ulterior motive for coming to Hogwarts then, and she was certain that he had had an ulterior motive more recently as well.

If only she could get back in the room. She would go and speak to Draco, and then she would do whatever she could to find the secret passage – even if it meant trawling through every map, blueprint and history of Hogwarts that had ever been written.

Determined she threw the gold and red covers from her and set off for breakfast. She would guard the door all morning if she had to, but she was going to speak to Draco.

If it was at all in Snape’s nature to be anything but calm and collected, then he would be truly harassed. The sea-side was not at all how he had remembered it. For a start he had arrived on the Whitby Coast just in time for high tide, which meant that they could not walk along the beach and tire out a very excitable Harry - as had been Snape’s plan. It also meant he was forced up onto the promenade and amidst the so-far innumerable attractions that Potter begged and begged ever few steps to be allowed to try.

First they came across a string of amusement arcades. No sooner had Snape unbuckled the straps of the pushchair, than Harry had ran full throttle at the mechanical aeroplane that the other toddlers his age were queuing up to have a turn on.

‘Potter!’

As Snape turned, he raised his eyebrow. Harry was jumping up and down on the spot excitedly, a look of childish desperation in his eyes.

Snape rolled his eyes, but he reached into his pocket for a muggle fifty pence. He had to amuse Potter somehow, and he supposed that this might keep him quiet for a while.

He was wrong. Harry screamed and screamed from the moment the ride lifted him into the air. He might love his mini- broom, but a mechanical aeroplane seemed to be a step too far for the toddler. He screamed so much that several mothers appeared around Snape clucking like laying hens.

‘He’s scared poor mite,’ said one, stating the obvious.

‘Yeah,’ agreed the other, ‘Aww he must be a sensitive little soul, bless him.’

Snape’s eyebrows almost disappeared into his head on hearing this deducation. Harry, still screaming, reached his chubby arms out for the Batman.

‘Out, out!’ he wailed.

‘You best lift him out,’ the first mother said. ‘It’s got at least another few minutes to go.’

Snape, seeing that he had no choice, lifted the toddler brusquely out of the aeroplane. No sooner had he done so than Harry stopped bawling. He looked around the amusement arcade with wide eyes. There were pretty lights everywhere, and lots more fun rides for him to go on. He pointed to a red jumbo-jet that was almost identical to the wonderful plane he had just been on.

‘Nape, me, planey,’ he said, struggling to climb over the potions’ master’s shoulder and causing the women to laugh out loud at his fickleness.

Snape put him down on the ground. ‘Certainly not! Come on, we’re leaving.’

‘Want planey,’ Harry insisted, pointing again.

‘Tough.’

Before the toddler could throw the tantrum that seemed likely to follow, Snape ushered him over the road to the fish and chip shop that he had spotted earlier. At least that seemed like something that hadn’t changed from when he had been a boy.