"I can't believe you'd even ask this of me," Severus said in disbelief, shooting glances between the husband and wife.

"You weren't my first choice either," Potter mumbled and Severus snorted. 

"I'll bet. I mean, have you thought this through? Your wife, carrying my baby? Why would either of you want such a thing? What on earth makes you think I would want such a thing?"

"It's because you don't want it that you're our first choice," Lily said quietly and Severus frowned at her.

"Making as much sense as ever, Evans," he sneered.

"We need James' blood kin to perform Surrogace," Lily continued undaunted.

"And now, after ten years of enmity you remember I'm your cousin?" Severus said sourly. "Typical selfish arrogance. What about one of the others, we have enough of them."

"The others want children of their own some day," Lily returned. "The others wouldn't be willing to give up their own child for us to raise."

"And the child would be ours," James broke his long silence. "He or she would never know you, or know of you. We would never again see each other, any of us."

"Sounds like a win win situation for me," Severus drawled. "But remind me again why on earth I should want to put myself through this? It wouldn't be for gold, I earn as much from my potions as you do from your wonderful new spells. Nor would it be for love, I'm closer to the ghoul who lived in my mother's attic than I am either of you." He ran a contemptuous glance over Lily's composed form in the armchair opposite. "And it wouldn't be for lust either, since you tell me I don't get to actually involve myself in the act of procreation."

"Unless you count wanking," James drawled sarcastically. "Although I'm sure you've had plenty of practice at that."

Severus pursed his lips and assumed a thoughtful expression. "Let's see," he mused aloud. "My own hand or the touch of a filthy mudblood? Hmm, tough choice."

James pushed himself away from the wall with a curse. "I told you this was a bad idea," he said roughly. "Let's go."

"Wait outside for me, James," Lily said, her eyes never leaving Snape's.

"Yes, James," Severus said mockingly. "Wait outside like a good boy."

"Are you sure?"

Lily nodded and they waited until Potter's footsteps faded down the hall.

"Well?" Snape said, crossing his arms and leaning back. "What magic are you going to cast to get me to agree to this ludicrous request?"

"None," Lily said, standing and drifting to the narrow window overlooking the street. "Wouldn't work anyway. This is one of those things that has to be willingly given." She crinkled green eyes at him. "You know the type."

"I know your type," Severus said smugly. "This all smells like Dark Magic to me, with a new name and a happy attitude. Another man's seed inside you? No pure born witch would think of such a thing!"

"Another man's seed," Lily mused. "Your seed. James Potter's wife round and full of Severus Snape's child." Her words were soft and despite her promise of no magic there was a kind of thrill to them that ran along Snape's spine and made him quiver.

"Just imagine what it will be like for him," Lily continued, voice almost dreamy now. "Living with the knowledge all his life, that he couldn't even father his own child. That he had to ask you, of all men to do it for him."

Severus shook off the spell of her words and looked at her with something akin to admiration. "Are you sure the Sorting Hat put you in the right house? You'd have done well in Slytherin."

Lily chuckled, shaking her head.

"You don't really believe any of that, do you?"

She shrugged. "No," she admitted. "But it's what you believe that matters. How you'll feel about it."

"It might be sweet at that," Severus mused. "But you don't really think that little speech will convince me, do you?"

Lily just smiled again.

888

The supper arrived but Harry was sleeping so deeply Snape hadn't the heart to wake him. Besides, he wasn't sure exactly what he was going to say to the boy. Deciding to claim something of his that he'd long since given away was one thing, but that didn't automatically make him a father. And it didn't automatically mean love either.

He wasn't entirely sure he had it in him to love anyone.

But there was no doubt he was feeling something for the boy, even if it was just the possession of ownership.

Harry stirred and cuddled his Merlin closer. Snape sat by him again, unlacing the small scuffed shoes and tossing them aside. The socks were old too, worn through at the heel and Snape dropped them on the floor, wishing he could cast a fire spell and burn them to ashes with a word.

He drew warm covers up and surveyed the sleeping child for long minutes while his soup grew cold. Then he stripped a few of his own layers off before laying down by his son's side and giving into welcome sleep.

888

A small finger was tracing down his nose. He was one of those men who was instantly aware of his surroundings when he awoke, so there was no surprise when he opened his eyes to Harry's green ones.

"Do we look alike?" Harry said as if continuing a conversation without a break.

"We have the same coloured hair," Snape pointed out.

Harry tried to peer at his own hair and then reached out and touched a finger to his father's. "It's got something on it," he said, rubbing finger and thumb together.

"I put stuff on it," Snape admitted, yawning and stretching. "It sticks up otherwise."

"Like mine!" Harry said in delight. "Aunt Petunia hated it." His eyes grew round as a thought occurred to him. "That's when I did magic, daddy! I 'membered that!"

Snape ruthlessly suppressed the twinge in his heart at Harry's name for him. "What magic?"

"The night before I was going to big school," Harry said excitedly. "Aunt Petunia cut off all my hair because she said it was scruffy." His mouth turned down. "It looked awful and I would have cried and cried, if I hadn't been a big boy," he finished hastily.

Snape nodded to show he understood this rider.

"But when I woke up next day it was all growed back, daddy. Just like it was." Harry smiled smugly. "It was magic, wasn't it?"

"Natural magic," Snape agreed.

Harry rolled onto his back and looked around the room. "Is this where we live?"

"No, this is just a room for the night." Snape stood up and stretched again. He'd slept amazingly well considering his life was a shambles and he had a new responsibility slung around his neck. Said responsibility bounced on the bed then subsided.

"Um, I need to pee," Harry said, hands tucked between his legs.

"Behind the screen." Snape pointed to an ornate screen, then reached under the bed. "Harry?"

The boy was peering behind the screen in dismay. "There's no toilet here."

Snape held out the chipped old gazunder and Harry stared at it for a moment, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"You're not in the Muggle world now, Harry," Snape explained patiently, handing the boy the vessel and steering him behind the screen.

He busied himself spelling the creases out of his coat and pulling it on while the boy performed his ablutions.

"Now what?" Harry called.

"Now watch," Snape said patiently and a moment later Harry yelled and rushed out from behind the screen, running to his father's legs and grabbing them.

"It disappeared!" Harry exclaimed, eyes half excited and half fearful. "Without even flushing!"

 "Magic isn't always about waving wands and making sparks appear, Harry. Mostly it's about the practical things in life. Now, wash your hands."

Harry had to kneel on the dressing chair to reach the porcelain washing bowl, and Snape was forced to lend a hand with a thin flannel and some soap.

"What's a Muggle?" the boy asked as his father rubbed behind his ears and over his neck.

"Non magical human," Snape explained, rinsing the cloth and wringing it dry. "You know you ought to be old enough to do this for yourself."

"I could if you had a sink and a tap," Harry protested, sputtering around the flannel. "I always wash myself."

"I can tell," Snape said sarcastically. "I could plant mandrakes behind these ears." He dropped the flannel in the bowl and shook his head. "Belenos help me, I'm channeling my mother."

Harry smiled, his skin damp and rosy. "You're funny."

"You're the only one who thinks so," his father said repressively. "Now, if you're so independent you can get your shoes and socks on while I perform my own ablutions." He raised a hand when Harry opened his mouth. "Just do as you're told with no questions."

Harry shrugged and dropped easily to his bottom, scooting along the floor and beginning to tug on the first sock he found. Snape shook his head. He could already see he wasn't cut out for this.

Before they left the room he studied the boy, resolving that he would buy him some more suitable garments as soon as possible. Not only were his clothes inappropriate for the season they were also much too big for his small frame. And his hair...

"Just a moment." Snape waved his wand and Harry's hair flattened a little, drooping down over his brow and obscuring his scar. He looked down into the boys wide eyes and with another quick spell he caused the too large glasses to shrink down. Oddly they changed shape too, the brown horn rims becoming black and round.

Just like James Potter's.

Harry blinked and then smiled again. "Can I have a stick like that too?"

"It's called a wand," Snape muttered distractedly. He considered altering the shape of the glasses again then shrugged. What difference did it make anyway? The boy did look a little like James, just as he did Lily and himself. And after all why shouldn't he? In a way all three of them had been his parents.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked trustingly as they walked down the worn wooden stairs.

"Breakfast first, then we'll take a walk up to the castle."

"A castle?" Harry said excitedly, climbing up on the seat and leaning over the table on his elbows. "A real castle?"

Snape nodded and ordered them breakfast over the bar before joining him at the table. "Elbows off the table," he ordered and Harry subsided back in his seat, a blissful grin on his face. "A real castle. Dudley will never believe it."

"He'll never have cause to," Snape said shortly.

Harry frowned in confusion. "What?"

"You say 'I beg your pardon', not 'what'."

"I beg your pardon," Harry repeated obediently.

"Much better. And I merely meant that your cousin won't hear about the castle from you. You will never see him or any of those Muggles again."

Harry absorbed this while Madam Rosmerta bought him a tankard and ruffled his hair. He wrapped two little hands around it and sniffed. Then he took a sip and smiled. "This tastes nice."

Snape sipped his own and inclined his head in agreement.

"So I don't need to see Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia again either?"

"No."

"What about my school? I'm s'posed to be back on Monday."

"We will find an alternate education for you." Or Dumbledore would. There would be no living with the insufferable old busybody now that he'd managed to manipulate the situation to his advantage yet again. Only the thought that soon the old git would be facing these interminable questions himself cheered Snape up.

"So I don't have to go back to the school either? Cool."

Snape raised a brow. "You didn't like school?" Here was something they had in common.

Harry wrinkled his brow, a pumpkin juice moustache over his upper lip. "I liked learnin' stuff," he confided. "Mrs Taylor said I was a good reader, especially once I got my glasses and I could see prop'ly. But I din't have any friends or anything."

Dark memories there, for both of them, Harry's eyes were shadowed and Snape resisted the urge to reach out and touch his hand in comfort. He was not a demonstrative man, and Harry would have to learn to accept that. He didn't think it would be too difficult, the boy certainly wasn't used to affection.

What had Dumbledore been thinking? Potter and Evans must be spinning in their graves right now at the thought of a man like him raising their beloved child and rightly so. He was a cold man. He had been a bad man. And now he was an empty shell of a man, struggling to get through every day.

He was also all Harry had.

Breakfast arrived and Harry tucked in, picking up whole sausages on his fork and devouring them from the end down. Snape didn't object to the appalling table manners, after all Harry had been raised by Muggles, what else could be expected?

"There are only two places on earth the boy will be safe. With his aunt, or here at Hogwarts."

888

Snape was forced to carry him again once outside, there was still snow on the ground and his thin footwear would have been soaked in seconds. He also still lacked a cloak so they stopped on the way at a Gladrags store and purchased one. Harry stood still and obedient as the seamstress measured him from top to bottom, still holding his doll firmly under one arm.

"Can I have stars and moons on mine?" he whispered to his father as the seamstress searched through racks of clothes. "Like Merlin?"

"Not today," Snape said firmly, counting the coins in his purse. He could see clothing a growing child would be an expensive proposition.

"Why?"

"Because I say so."

Harry thought about that for a moment. "Kay," he agreed amiably.

Snape filed that away for future reference.

Boots were next and they were easier to fit. A good shoemaker worked so closely with his leather that he could coax it to grow and shape around the foot he was fitting. Harry giggled and buried his face in his doll's soft hat as the soft leather shoes molded around his small feet.

"It tickles!" he protested and the grey haired shoemaker chuckled and patted the leather fondly.

"Aye, it will that," he agreed. "But your da here will be glad to know the shoes will grow with you over the next year or so. Good value that."

"They'd want to be," Snape said sourly, handing over the gold and counting the pitiful bronze coins he received in change.

"Do you want these?" the shoemaker asked disdainfully, holding Harry's scuffed old shoes at arms length, dangling from their frayed laces.

Snape studied the disgusting objects dispassionately. "Burn them," he ordered and the shoemaker nodded fervently.

"I'm practickly a wizard now," Harry said as he stepped out into the street. He twirled and his cloak swirled around him. "Can I have a pointy hat too?"

"Not right now," Snape said, glancing at the sun. "Time to get to the castle. There's someone there waiting to meet you."

"Oh." Harry trotted along by his side as they left the village and walked down the well used track to the castle. "Will I like them?"

"Him. And probably. People usually do."

They rounded a bend and there it was, Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Tall towers, eccentric bridges and walkways, banks of gleaming old glass, spires of gold and silver.

"Wow," Harry said, stopping in his tracks. "A really and truly castle." He gazed at it for long moments. "It's very big," he said, his voice small.

"Come, Harry," Snape said impatiently.

The boy stared at him with wide eyes and took a step to his side. "It's kinda spooky looking," he said, small hand reaching for the edge of Snape's cape. Fingers clutched and Harry stared up at him, eyes fearful. "Isn't it, daddy?"

Snape looked at the towering edifice and agreed. "A little." For the first time he crouched and looked his son square in the eye. "But there's nothing for you to be afraid of, Harry. You're a wizard and this castle is the home of wizards. It will welcome you, and keep you safe."

Small fingers still clutched at his cloak. "And you'll be there too, right, daddy?"

He was nodding before he'd even thought about it. When he stood again he extended one hand and Harry seized it gratefully, squeezing it tight.

"What's this castle called?"

"Hogwarts," his father told him.

"That's a funny name."

"Hilarious."

888

Dumbledore was waiting for them at the foot of his revolving staircase. He beamed at the boy. "Hello, Harry," he said cheerfully. "I'm Professor Dumbledore."

"Perfessor," Harry tried.

"Close enough." Dumbledore winked at him and Harry tugged his father's hand until Snape understood he had to bend over.

"Is he Merlin?" Harry whispered loudly.

Dumbledore chuckled. "Oh. no, Harry! I'm much better looking than Merlin was!" He leaned over and whispered confidingly. "And taller too."

Harry smiled and giggled into his doll's hat.

"I must say I like your Merlin, Harry." The old wizard nodded at the doll still clutched under Harry's arm. "A Christmas present?" Then he winked at a stone faced Severus when the boy nodded enthusiastically. "Now, tell me lad, what's your favourite sweet? What tastes best in all the world?"

Harry wrinkled his brow. "I had fairy floss once," he revealed. "At the school fete. My teacher bought it for me."

"Was it pink?" Dumbledore asked in delight.

Harry nodded.

Dumbledore pointed over his shoulder at the scowling gargoyle that guarded his rooms. "Tell my stone friend there what your favourite sweet is, will you, Harry?"

Harry glanced up at Snape for confirmation and his father inclined his head.

"Fairy floss!" Harry said bravely, and with a creak the statue moved aside and revealed the staircase behind it.

"Well done, Harry!" Dumbledore cried. He took Harry's free hand and gestured to the staircase. "Hop on then, it's a ride I never tire of!"

Harry chuckled and stepped onto the stone stairs, clutching at both their hands as they revolved and moved upwards.

"This is magic too," he said breathlessly.

"Hello, young fella!" A witch from a painting called, and a chorus of voices greeted them as they stepped into the round room.

"Hello," Harry said. "Daddy, the pictures are talking to me!"

"Be polite to them then," Snape told him.

"Look here, Harry," Dumbledore said. "I bet you've never seen blocks like these before." On a low table a mound of brightly coloured blocks lay still and quiet in the shaft of morning sunlight.

"We had blocks at my kindy," Harry revealed, letting go of his father's hand and stepping closer. With a pop one of the blocks jumped on another one and the two of them joined a third. Suddenly the blocks sprouted a funnel and wheels and became a train chugging around the table. "They didn't do that at my kindy!" Harry exclaimed.

Dumbledore subsided behind his desk and smiled at the boy who was touching the various coloured bricks reverently. "He's a bold one," the headmaster observed, and the portraits behind him nodded agreement. Dumbledore looked over at Snape. "You changed your mind about leaving him there then?"

"Aren't you happy?" Snape accused. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

"Really, Severus, I will never understand why you constantly make me out to be some kind of Machiavelli! Especially as there is no doubt that physically at least Harry was better off with his mother's kin. You taking him away from them presents me with very many problems, as it happens."

"You knew I'd take him though, didn't you?"

"You mean despite your firm avowal that the child meant nothing to you?" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled annoyingly. "Yes, I admit I rather hoped you would."

Suddenly tired, Severus sank down on one of the soft armchairs. "Why?" he asked weakly.

"Because it was time. It gave me no pleasure to leave the boy with such uncaring folk, Severus." Dumbledore sighed, his eyes losing their shine as he glanced at Harry happily playing with the wooden shapes.

"Toadstools and twains and hoppy frogs," he was saying under his breath.

"Then why did you?" the boy's father demanded. "I know you're a busy man, and an important one, but couldn't you have taken him yourself? Any life you gave him here would have been better than the one he had there."

Dumbledore sighed again, long thin fingers steepled before him on the desktop. "Did it never occur to you, Severus, to wonder why it was that I had control over the boy in those first hours after his parents death?"

Severus frowned. It never had occurred to him actually. "Well, his godfather was under suspicion, Death Eaters were still around... Who else?"

Dumbledore barked a short laugh. "Many many people as it happens. Even just as James' cousin you, Severus, had more rights to the boy than I. And while you ponder that, think on some of James' other cousins."

Snape grimaced, acknowledging the drawback to large sprawling wizard families.

"Yet it was I that took him, in those first terrible confused hours. I cast the most complicated and difficult spell of my life based on a mother's love and ancient blood magic. And I hid the boy from all sight for five years."

The old wizard met the young one's gaze squarely. "Did it also never occur to you that it was not just Death Eaters I was hiding him from?"

"You mean me?" Severus said numbly. "You still suspected me?"

Dumbledore waved a hand in easy dismissal. "Not once, my boy, since you first came to me. Not once."

A tightness in his chest eased and Snape drew a relieved breath. It seemed the old man's opinion of him mattered after all. "Then who...?" he began, then he shook his head. "Of course. You mean the Ministry."

The headmaster inclined his head. "It took them days to realise what had happened and then I was positively barraged with owls demanding that I hand the boy over to them."

"But why would they have wanted him?"

"The worst of reasons," Dumbledore said solemnly. "Politics. You remember those days, Severus. Chaos and terror for years and then suddenly release! The Ministry needed to do much rebuilding, even as they cleaned their own house, even as the arrests and the trials began. They needed a symbol, a figurehead. A hero."

Snape shuddered to think of a small child in the care of those unfeeling bureaucrats. Then there was the fact that many of them at the time had turned their coats to the Dark Lord's side and were hurrying to turn them back. How safe could Harry have been?

"They'd have got him killed in weeks," Dumbledore said heavily.

"So you've kept him from them all this time. The pressure must have been enormous." Snape frowned. "But what's changed? What's to stop them trying to take him now?"

"Nothing, if he were in my care. But now he has you and the simplest Paternitus charm will reveal your claim to him."

Snape leaned back in his chair, taking it all in. "I think you're like a spider," he said thoughtfully. "Sitting in the web you alone know the pattern of, watching us lesser mortals struggle in its strands."

Dumbledore smiled happily. "I rather like spiders," he confided. "Now, to your future."

"Have that all planned too, do you?" Snape asked sourly, feeling the sticky web around him.

"I do have some suggestions. Madam Bright, you remember her?"

"Vividly. I developed my love of potions rather in spite of her than because."

"Odd to hear you admit to loving anything, Severus."

Snape sneered.

"Anyway, she's been on at me about letting her retire for the last few years but I've talked her into waiting."

Suspicion rose its ugly head. "Waiting for what?"

"A better candidate."

Snape shook his head in disbelief. "You want me to be Potions Master at Hogwarts."

Dumbledore beamed.

"Are you joking? I hated this school! The seven years I spent here were the, well, I won't say the most miserable, I've had some pretty miserable years. But they weren't the happiest I've had either!"

"You were a child then, my boy. Think how different it will be coming back as a professor."

"But I know nothing about teaching," Snape protested. "I don't even like children." He flung out a hand at the five year old who now lay on his belly on the rug, zooming a honking block car around its spiral pattern. "I don't even like my own child!"

Dumbledore laughed as if Snape had said something terribly witty and the young wizard sat back in his chair in a huff.

"You have the rest of this school year to observe Madam Bright's teaching methods, Severus. I'm sure she'll be glad to pass her lesson plans and syllabus down to you as well, until you find your feet a little."

"But my own work," Severus continued doggedly. "My potions are much in demand and keep me immensely busy."

"I've heard about your sterling work with werewolf sleeping draughts," Dumbledore said approvingly. Snape ruthlessly resisted any pleasure in the old man's pride. His achievements were his own, no one else had the right to take credit for them.

"I stumbled on it by accident," Snape mumbled.

"All the same, you're right, it's important work. Certainly you should continue it and your research. Just think," the old wizard said slyly. "Hogwarts has some of the finest facilities in the world. Access to equipment and materials..."

Snape pondered this when Dumbledore broke off, looking innocently up at his own ceiling through his absurd little glasses.

"I'm sure arrangements could be made for your use of the labs," the headmaster said softly and for the first time Snape felt the nip of temptation. He remembered Hogwarts facilities fondly, indeed his happiest memories of the school were the hours in higher school when he was given time in his own lab to work on more advanced potions. He'd received the highest potions NEWT a Hogwarts student had been honoured with in 300 years.

Dumbledore pressed his advantage. "I have a fine suite of rooms in mind for the two of you, Severus. House elves to perform menial chores, an easy teaching schedule, especially for the next six months and the freedom of the dungeons."

"And Harry?" Severus asked, already knowing he was convinced but willing to allow the headmaster to coax him a little more. "He needs to attend school himself, and I hardly think he'd be safe in some hedge witch's cottage school until he's old enough to be taught here."

"One thing at a time, Severus, one thing at a time."

Harry came over to lean on his knee and Severus automatically straightened the worn shirt about his narrow hips.

Dumbledore rubbed his hands together gleefully. "This is all coming together splendidly!"