Securing his personal possessions was the easy part, packing up his lab took the better part of the day and it was late afternoon before Snape descended into Diagon Alley to arrange transport for his fragile goods and chattels. After securing a reliable carrier he lingered for a few moments at the shop windows, studying the dusty clothes in the display, trying to picture Harry in the black velvet suit with the white ruffled lace collar. Snape almost found himself smiling at the thought of Harry's face if he should be presented with such an outfit.

"Shopping for the family, Severus?"

Wiping all expression from his face Snape turned to the owner of the smooth voice.

"Lucius," he said cordially. "It's been awhile."

"It has," Lucius Malfoy drawled agreement. "One might almost think you were avoiding the old circles, my dear chap."

Snape shrugged. "You know me, Lucius. How many times did you accuse me of being antisocial?"

Malfoy pressed his mouth to the smooth ivory top of his cane. "Very many times." His eyes darted past Snape to the shop window and he raised a perfect winged brow. "You didn't answer my question, Severus. Shopping for the newest member of the Snape family?"

Snape schooled his face to remain expressionless, it was a talent he'd perfected long before the sly battlegrounds of Hogwarts. He considered denying it but discarded the thought immediately. The truth would be known soon enough, some things could not be hidden. "You always did have excellent sources of information, Lucius."

Self satisfaction oozed from Malfoy's fine pale skin. "So it is true! Severus, dear chap, you continue to amaze me. Harry Potter? Or should I say Harry Snape?" He chuckled maliciously, lovingly stroking the smooth ivory over his cheeks as they creased with mirth. "Really, Severus, I thought you had better taste. A Muggle born!"

Snape crossed his arms and leaned casually back against the window. "You know what they say, Lucius. All cats are grey in the dark."

"And the sky's the same colour where ever you go," Malfoy added with a smirk. "But really, dear fellow. I suppose you couldn't resist the urge to cuckold that Muggle loving fool James Potter. You used to be annoyingly tedious about all the slights he'd delivered you."

"I have a long memory," Snape said silkily.

"And depths I'd never guessed," Malfoy murmured back. "Imagine keeping a secret like that all these years! Even when you knew the Dark Lord was seeking the Potters to kill them."

Snape managed a sneer. It was surprisingly easy. "Potter's wife didn't tell me she was carrying my sprog," he lied carelessly. "Dear old Dumbledore only saw fit to let me know recently."

That brow rose again. "And you raced to fetch him from... where was he hiding all this time?"

Snape shrugged easily. "The old fool never said. But of course I agreed to take him in." Now his languid pose was disposed of and he straightened, looking Malfoy directly in the eye. "Half blood or not, he's my blood. And that means something to me."

"It will mean something to all our friends too, Severus," Malfoy murmured. "Just a friendly warning, you understand. But Harry Potter, the Dark Lord's downfall at large in the world! Well, the interest will be enormous, in certain circles."

"And how is your son, Lucius?" Snape asked, seemingly at random. "Your only child. It will be interesting to meet him in person."

Lucius snorted. "What makes you think you'll ever meet my son in person, Severus?"

Snape smiled, eyes as cold as winter. "Fair's fair, Lucius," he whispered. "If you take the time and trouble to seek my son out..." he paused, watching understanding dawn in those pale eyes. "Well, I'd just have to make time to visit yours. With my best regards of course."

Lucius set his jaw, an ugly expression flickering across his pale pointed face. Then he smiled again, insincere as ever. "So, Severus." His voice was soft but sharp like a razor. "I do believe we understand one another."

Snape inclined his head, never shifting his eyes from the white haired serpent before him. "Good day, Lucius."

Fine black cape swirling Malfoy spun on his heel and stalked away.

888

The nearest floo was the Leaky Cauldron and Snape paid a pretty penny for the handful of dust that sent him spinning back to his room at Hogwarts. He heard it locking magically behind him as heart pounding hard he listened to the empty silence of the room. In the corridor he grabbed a passing Slytherin by the robe and shook him. "Have you seen the headmaster, boy?"

"In the main courtyard, sir, a little while ago," the startled fifth year informed him.

Snape dropped him and hurried down the hall, his memory of the layout of the place coming back to him easily. He slid a little on a tread that was polished by age and realised he still had muddy snow from Diagon Alley on his boots. The memory of those moments with Malfoy, the concentrated malice in his pale eyes, the clear threat in his voice had sent him running, and now the panic at not finding Harry straight away was making him irritable too.

It was with something considerably more powerful than relief that he spotted Harry and Dumbledore hand in hand making their way down the slope to the ground keeper's hut.

"Harry!" he called, relief making him wilt against the standing stone that marked the beginning of the path. Harry turned and saw him, pulling away from Dumbledore's hand and racing back up the path.

"Daddy!"

Snape crouched as Harry jumped and in a moment he had the boy crushed to his chest, heartbeat finally slowing, breath easing in his tight chest.

"I missed you," Harry was exclaiming but his father barely heard him, busy cataloging the thin limbs, the tousled black hair, the green eyes slanted and lit with pleasure. The child was safe.

For now.

"Severus?" Dumbledore was saying by his side, his intelligent eyes concerned.

"I met Malfoy in London," Snape managed, grateful when the older wizard merely nodded his understanding.

"I could do with a cup of tea," Dumbledore announced. "Harry, you must be thirsty after all our explorations?"

Harry nodded, pulling back and studying his father's face. "Are you thirsty too, daddy?"

"Parched."

888

"I don't want anyone to know, headmaster," Snape said quietly as Harry enjoyed his glass of iced pumpkin juice. He was still on his father's lap, to his embarrassment Snape was disinclined at the moment to let him go.

Dumbledore glanced at him inquisitively over the translucent rim of his tea cup.

"About the Surrogace charm. I know Li- I know she was Muggle born and knew no better, but it's the child who would have to live with the stigma of it."

"Better the stigma of James being made cuckold by you?" Dumbledore asked delicately.

Snape shrugged. "I believe so. They are dead, sir, and beyond being hurt by rumours."

Harry looked up, licking at his pumpkin juice moustache, eyes curious and wide. He knew he was the subject of the discussion, no matter how carefully it was phrased.

Of course he does, Snape thought. He's my son after all.

Mine.