The rooms were indeed fine. Directly above the dungeons soared a tower that Snape had never been in before. Dumbledore confided that a previous Potions Master had once used the entire tower to raise a family of eleven whilst teaching at the school, but that Madam Bright had preferred living in the dungeons closer to her lab.

Halfway up the tower were a suite of rooms with gentle round walls and warm woolen tapestries. There were three bedrooms as well as a kitchen and a fine bathing suite and lavatory. The view out over the Forbidden Forest was rather dark, but the large narrow windows all the way around were safely barred and let in plentiful light.

Harry poked around while Snape pondered the fate that had led them there and Dumbledore rocked back and forward on his heels, hands behind his back and whistling softly.

"I think I should worry when you're so happy," Snape said waspishly and Dumbledore chuckled again.

"Why shouldn't I be happy? I've secured the finest brewer in England as my Potions Master for at least the next..." He counted on his fingers. "Six years. Harry has a home he's sure to enjoy. And all sorts of other niggling little  problems I've been working on will be solved soon too. Of course I'm happy!"

"What other problems?" Snape asked, suddenly alarmed, but just then Harry came rushing in.

"Daddy! There's a painting with horsies and the horsies are galloping and one of horsies smiled at me!"

"Ah, I thought you'd like that one!" Dumbledore exclaimed, delighted as a child. "Did you look at the furniture? No?" He held out his hand. "Come and look then, come and look! It's just fine, covered with carvings of owls and hedgehogs and all sorts of happy creatures. I very nearly decided to have it for my own bed, save that my feet would hang right over the edge."

"You are very tall," Harry observed as they trotted hand in hand into the bedroom.

Snape covered his face with the palm of his hand and groaned. "Maybe it's not too late to run."

888

Snape spent dinner making plans while Harry waxed enthusiastic about his bed and the horsies and his new toys.

"Two presents," he sighed happily, spooning up the last mouthful of rhubarb and custard from the bowl. He scraped the spoon around the rim hopefully, finally licking it clean and emerging with more custard around his mouth than in it. "Better presents than some poxy old three wheeler too."

Resolving once again to teach the boy some proper table etiquette Snape handed him a napkin and went back to his list.

"I need to close my old lodgings and fetch my things here tomorrow," he told Harry, eschewing his own desert in favour of a hot cup of tea. "Professor Dumbledore says he will take you on a tour of the castle while I'm gone."

Harry's sticky mouth turned down. "Can't I come with you? I can help you pack."

"If it were just a matter of packing I'd bring you along," Snape said as sincerely as he could manage. "Indeed I'd send a house elf to do it. But I must pack away my potions equipment and that's highly delicate work."

Harry frowned as he attempted to work it all out. "I could wait in the car?" he suggested.

Snape massaged the bridge of his nose. It was becoming more and more obvious that he and Harry barely spoke the same language. The child was too young to yet absorb how very different were the Muggle world and the wizard one.

"You'll enjoy yourself, Harry, I promise. Professor Dumbledore will show you a secret tunnel and introduce you to the ghosts-"

"Ghosts!" Harry exclaimed.

Biting his tongue Snape nodded. "Friendly ghosts," he hastened to explain, hoping the Bloody Baron would be otherwise engaged tomorrow.

"Okay," Harry said doubtfully. "He looked around the room. "Can I watch TV?"

Snape paused with his tea cup halfway to his mouth. "T what?"

888

They settled on a bath instead and Snape breathed a sigh of relief when Harry's dismay at finding himself suddenly deprived of some obviously vital piece of Muggle entertainment was allayed by his delight in the huge sunken tub. He clapped his hands together as the largest tap poured out mountains of pale purple foam along with the deliciously warm water.

Harry couldn't get out of his clothes fast enough and Snape had to hastily grab his hand to stop him from flinging himself in.

"Quiet and careful, Harry," he warned as he led the boy to the sunken steps and saw him safely settled in the shallow water. "Or out you come."

Harry nodded blissfully, picking up a palm full of bubbles and blowing them.

Snape tossed him a flannel and indicated the bars of soap. "And wash yourself!"

Aligning an armchair so he could keep a weather eye on the bathroom Snape sat back and breathed a sigh of pure pleasure. It felt as if every minute of the day he had had one eye on his business and one eye on Harry. The boy was well enough behaved despite his atrocious up-bringing and appalling table manners, but he still had to be watched every moment in this new and strange environment.

Sipping his tea he reflected on the changes barely twenty four hours could make on a man's life. And yet for all the difficulties and expense and new responsibilities he couldn't find it within himself to regret his hasty act. At least not yet. Taking the young wizard away from the Muggles had been right, no matter whose kin he was. Snape knew himself as no friend of the late lamented Potters but he fancied he had known them well enough to know they would not have been happy at the environment their boy was being raised in. So even if Harry had been no kin of his Snape still felt he would have snatched him away.

But of course there was this blood tie between them.

Cast a spell, use a part of yourself in it. How common was that for a wizard, especially one like himself whose life revolved around the brewing of potions and elixirs.

But to cast a spell and give a part of yourself away... That was much more rare and for good reason. Parts of yourself gave others power over you, that was ancient magic. How had he forgotten that six years ago when Lily and James came calling? It served him right now that his foolishness had come back to bite him on the arse.

888

Harry had no night gown and was forced to wear his t-shirt and underpants to bed.

"I'll send a house elf to buy you some essentials tomorrow," Snape promised but Harry wasn't listening. His eyes were darting into the shadowy corners of the room.

"It's a very big room, isn't it?" he said nervously.

Snape looked around. He supposed it must seem dauntingly large to someone who had slept in a cupboard most of his life.

"I'll leave the door open," he offered. "My room's right next door."

Harry nodded but looked unconvinced. He clutched his doll closer and snuggled down under the blankets. "You... You won't go anywhere while I'm asleep, will you?"

Snape smoothed the covers, wishing that he knew the right things to do or say to reassure the child. So far he'd acted as if Harry was a small adult sharing this space with him, helping him only with tasks made difficult by his size. But now, with his glasses on the bed side table and his jet black hair still flat after its washing Harry looked much younger and more vulnerable.

For the first time Snape felt a pang for all the nights Harry must have been alone and afraid with no one to comfort him. Not that he was very good at this whole comfort business. He couldn't even bring himself to offer a hug.

There was an old glass paperweight on the bedside table and Snape pulled out his wand and transfigured it into a hollow globe, like a small crystal ball. Then he cast a minor light spell and it lit up from within with a soft white light that bathed the area around the bed.

"If you want it to go out just blow on it like a candle," Snape told him, allowing himself a touch to one soft cheek before rising and bidding the boy good night.

Hours later he was startled awake by a whinny from Harry's room and he tossed his covers aside and hurried next door, wondering if the boy was awake and encouraging the painted ponies to do tricks for him again. Instead to his shock he saw the bed empty, the soft glowing orb he'd created gone.

The pony at the forefront of the painting tossed its head meaningfully and Snape followed its brown gaze, eyes now detecting the fine seam of light around the wardrobe door. Heart sinking he hurried to it and carefully pulled it open, biting back a curse at the sight.

Nestled on his pillow and wrapped in his new cloak Harry lay curled in the bottom of the wardrobe, his wizard under one arm and the globe clutched in his fist. He was fast asleep.

"Oh, child," Snape whispered, gathering the small bundle easily into his arms and sitting on the end of the bed. "What am I to do with you?"

The hug came easily now, with Harry soft and sleep warm in his arms, thin limbs lax, head heavy on his shoulder.

Snape sat for a very long time, just holding his boy close.

888

Next morning Harry seemed to have no recollection of his night time jaunt, he rushed past Snape who was already enjoying a cup of tea and the early edition of the Daily Prophet.

Glad they at least had facilities that the boy recognised Snape heard the telltale flush of the old cistern and the gurgle of the pipes as Harry hastily washed his hands.

"My bed is dry," Harry announced proudly from the bathroom door and Snape nodded, assuming this was a good thing.

"Get dressed before you come to the table," he ordered as Harry drifted over and gazed at the toast and marmalade. "I promise I'll make sure you have clean clothes to change into by tonight," he continued guiltily as Harry emerged from the bedroom, dragging up his over large trousers.

The boy just shrugged and climbed onto his seat. "Juice?"

"May I have some juice please, father?" Snape said pointedly and Harry nodded and repeated the phrase, giggling when he said 'father'. "Your table manners need some work, boy."

Harry shrugged and slathered marmalade onto his toast from the pot, spilling droplets on the table cloth and down his front. "Oops." He lifted his shirt and licked the drops, causing his father to roll his eyes. "Aunt Petunia didn't like me sitting at the table," he explained. "She said it was a waste of time teaching me manners cos I was never going to eat with decent folk anyway." Harry fixed him a curious gaze. "Are you decent folk?"

"According to your aunt? Certainly not," Snape said proudly. "And I want you to remember from now on, Harry, that everything those people told you was an arrant pack of nonsense. Lies," he clarified when Harry looked puzzled.

"Oh." Harry absorbed this while he munched on his toast and sipped his milk. "So, you weren't in jail then?"

His own tea went down the wrong way and Snape sputtered on it for a moment, covering his mouth with his napkin. "I beg your pardon?" he managed.

Harry watched this performance with interested eyes. "Uncle Vernon said that if my father hadn't died in that car crash then he'd of been in jail. Weren't you in jail then?"

"No I was not," Snape said with outrage. "And neither was your, er, James Potter. Your adopted father."

"Oh." Harry chewed for a while again and Snape subsided, his loathing of the disgusting Muggles simmering just under the surface. Oh to be a Death Eater again, for just five minutes...

"Where were you then?"

"Hmm?"

Harry fixed slanted green eyes on him. "Where were you while I was living with them then?"

Caught by complete surprise and wondering why he hadn't seen this question coming, Snape struggled for words. "It's, er, it's hard to explain," he said weakly.

Harry ran his finger through a blob of marmalade. "Din't you want me then?" he said, eyes downcast.

Since he actually hadn't wanted him Snape was again lost for words. How do you explain to a five year old that his father was only his father by blood and nothing else? No love, nor even desire had played a role in Snape's part of his conception, the only two people who had ever loved him were dead and gone, and that was hardly their fault.

So perhaps that was the place to start.

"Your mother and father," Snape began slowly, feeling his way. "Your mother and your adopted father..." He paused, the words coming more easily now. "They didn't die in a car crash, Harry."

Harry's eyes widened. "They didn't?"

"No. I told you your aunt and uncle were liars, didn't I?"

Harry nodded.

"Well they lied about the car crash. Your parents were killed by... a very bad man, Harry. An evil wizard."

Harry shifted his doll higher in his arms, pressing his chin to the soft velvet hat.

"And even though he's dead now, you were still in danger when you were a baby."

"He's dead?" Harry said quietly.

Dismissing his own fears on this subject Snape nodded. "But we needed to keep you safe and you wouldn't have been safe with me." Now Snape looked down at the table top, biting his lip. "I was fighting the bad man you see."

Harry nodded slowly.

"So, we sent you to live with your aunt and uncle, thinking you would be safe there. And you were safe, at least from the bad people."

Harry appeared to turn it all over in his mind and Snape watched him, wondering if he had told him too much. Those narrow little shoulders had borne enough burdens already.

"And so you killt the bad man and came and got me?" Harry said inquisitively.

Snape shook his head but Harry was nodding his own tousled head, crossing thin little arms and frowning thoughtfully. "I knew it had to be something like that," the little boy said, before lifting a serving lid and exposing a laden platter. "Bacon!" he exclaimed happily, helping himself.

Calling himself a coward all over again Snape subsided back behind the paper, letting the lie stand for now. He promised himself that when Harry was older he would hear the whole truth, for now just parts of it would do.

The fact that those parts made him out to be a hero instead of a villain in his son's eyes was purely coincidental, he told himself.