"Now, what will it be, young Harry?" Hagrid said thoughtfully, tugging at his bushy beard. "A rock cake?"

Harry looked doubtful. "I don't think my teeth are big enough to bite rock cakes," he said politely.

"Hmm, maybe not," Hagrid agreed as Harry bared his small white teeth to be peered at. "I suppose toffee's outta the question then?"

"I'm not really hungry, Hagrid," Harry assured his host. "Can't we just go and look at some interesting animals again?"

Hagrid made a face. "I sorta promised your dad we wouldn't do that no more," he revealed, a trifle sheepishly. "Seems the scratch you got last time from that bowtruckle was a wee bit too much for him."

"It was hardly anything!" Harry defended hotly. "My dad treats me like a baby."

"Ah, well," Hagrid said, prying the lid off a worn old tin and helping himself to a sticky toffee. "That's what dads are like, I reckon. Look at my old da now. I was as tall as him when I weren't much older than you are now, but he still used to wipe my chin and make me wear a tea towel around my neck when I et soup." Hagrid sucked thoughtfully at his sweet. "Well, a table cloth anyway. And you know what?"

Harry shook his head.

"He used to blow on my soup for me, can you believe it? In case I burnt meself." Hagrid sniffed and rubbed at his nose. "He was a good dad though."

"I suppose mine's okay too," Harry admitted grudgingly. "At least he doesn't blow on my soup." A tiny sound caught his attention and he focused on a box sitting on the huge hearth stone. "What's that?"

Hagrid glanced casually over then did a double take, pushing himself to his feet and towering over Harry. "Nothing for you to worry about!" he said loudly, leaning over and reaching for the box. But Harry's little legs had beaten him there and the boy was already bent over the box and peering past the blue ragged piece of blanket lining it.

"It's a bird!" Harry exclaimed. "A weeny tiny bird! Oh, look how fluffy it is!"

"Hmm, yes, well, come away now, lad," Hagrid said uneasily. "Best leave it be."

Harry cast one last look at the baby bird and backed away. "Is it dangerous?" he whispered, looking thrilled. "Is it a magical bird? Does it got big teeth?"

"What?" Hagrid said absently. "Birds don't have teeth, Harry. That's just a baby owl that is."

"Then why can't I look at it?" Harry risked a small step back towards the box. "Baby owls aren't dangerous." He shot Hagrid a quick glance. "Are they?"

Hagrid looked as if he would dearly love to say they were. "No," he admitted at last, sitting back at the table and tugging out a huge spotted hanky to wipe his brow. "It's not that." He heaved a huge sigh. "Well, the thing is, lad, it's only a tiny thing, see? I found it after the storm yesterday, and it's lost its mum..."

"And?"

Hagrid reached out a big hand and patted Harry gently on one narrow shoulder. The boy's legs buckled a bit and he reached for one giant knee and clutched at it.

"And it'll probably die, Harry, that's all. I didn't want to upset you, that's why I didn't want you to see it."

Harry frowned. "Die?" he repeated. "But why? Can't you look after it?"

"He's awful small, Harry," Hagrid said gently. "Things that small don't do well without their mums."

"I was small when my mum died!" Harry said indignantly. "I did all right." He frowned a little harder. "Well, maybe it wasn't too good until my dad came, but I didn't die or anything."

"But birds is different," Hagrid began helplessly.

"I don't see why." Harry's voice and face were stubborn. "It just needs food and warmth and stuff, right?"

"It won't take food from me," Hagrid pointed out. "My hands are too big-" he broke off, but it was too late. Harry's face had lit up and he was smiling widely.

"My hands aren't big!" he said excitedly. "Look!" He held up his rather grubby paws to demonstrate. "I bet I can feed him."

"Harry," Hagrid sighed. "I just don't want you to break your heart, lad. If the poor little thing dies."

"It won't die." Harry said firmly.

Hagrid drew him closer and peered down into the stubborn little face. "Harry," he said again, more softly. "It might. You have to know that, and tell me that you do, or I won't let you take care of it - no, even if you do stick that lip of yours out!"

Harry maintained his sulky face a moment longer and then gave in. "All right, Hagrid," he agreed. "I suppose it could die, but I'm going to take the best care of it to try and stop that from happening." He gazed up at the huge groundskeeper, blinking away tears from his eyes. "Please let me try."

Hagrid surveyed the small face before him a moment longer, then huffed a huge sigh that ruffled Harry's hair alarmingly.

"All right," he gave in. "You can give it a try."

"All right!" Harry cheered.

"Though what your dad is gonna say to me about it is another matter," Hagrid grumbled as he heaved himself to his feet and set about the room, gathering various bits and pieces from benches and shelves.

Harry wasn't listening, he was back at the box, peering down through the blue folds at the downy owlet crouching pitifully in the center. "It's all right, little owl," he murmured. "I'll take good care of you."

Hagrid carried a bowl and spoon over to the table, then gently lifted the box and laid it on the table top as well.

"What do baby birds eat?" Harry wondered curiously, climbing up on a huge chair and standing on it to see back inside the box.

"You better sit up here, Harry," Hagrid said, lifting him easily and setting him on the table top. Harry crossed his legs and sat comfortably while Hagrid slid the box in front of him. "I've a mixture here, just warm enough for this little one. I've found my smallest spoon." He picked it up and although it did look tiny in his fingers it was as big as a dessert spoon in Harry's hand.

Harry surveyed the spoon and then the baby bird. Then he turned the spoon around and dipped its handle into the bowl of soft mush. The flared handle held a tiny portion of mix and Harry grinned at Hagrid.

The groundskeeper grinned back, then shook his head in amazement. "You're a right clever lad," he marveled. "Mebbe we'll have a chance at his after all."

888

Snape negotiated the path to Hagrid's hut in the twilight, his boot heels clicking on the worn old flags that marked the way. Before he had climbed the stairs the front door was opening and Hagrid had emerged, his hands held out placatingly.

"Now, it weren't my fault," he began in a soothing tone and Snape felt his anxiety level sharply increase.

"What wasn't?" he asked suspiciously. "Is it Harry? What have you done?"

"Harry's fine," Hagrid hastened to assure him, stepping back into the hut as Snape pushed his way inside. "Happy as Larry in fact."

"Look, daddy!" Harry said joyfully. He was sitting cross-legged on the enormous old table, drips of some glutinous matter gleaming on his once spotless robe. "I've got a new pet! It's an owlet."

"Indeed," Snape said, turning a wrathful glance on the groundskeeper. Not that he had a problem with Harry owning an owl, but he knew Hagrid well enough to know there something was up and he wanted to hear about it right away.

"Like I said, it weren't my fault," Hagrid said again, backing up a step and knocking a tin mug off the shelf behind him. "It's just a baby see, and I told Harry it probably wouldn't survive-"

"It's fine!" Harry interjected loudly from his perch. "It's eaten heaps and now it's having a nap right here!"

Snape turned his back on the indignant boy and glared up into Hagrid's alarmed face. "Will it survive?" he demanded, quietly.

Hagrid considered for a moment then rushed into speech as Snape's frown deepened.

"It's got a better chance now that it's taken food," he said hastily. "If Harry keeps feeding it a mort every four hours or so..."

"Can you absolutely guarantee it won't die?" Snape demanded.

Hagrid made an agonised face. "Well, of course I can't," he said finally.

Snape nodded. "I'll know who to call then to comfort the child if his heart gets broken," he said maliciously.

Hagrid's mobile mouth turned down. "Oh, Professor," he said reproachfully.

Snape turned on his heel. "Climb down from your perch, Harry," he said, ignoring the unhappy noises Hagrid was making behind him. "I'll levitate the box, Hagrid can carry the food." He slanted a glance back over his shoulder. "I assume you'll be supplying Harry with all he needs?"

"Course I will," Hagrid rushed to reassure him. "Be glad to. I'll be glad the little thing survives."

"You better hope it does," Snape said meaningfully. He straightened the collar of Harry's robe, then pulled out his wand and gently levitated the box. He peered into it on its way past and saw the impossibly tiny bundle of white down. He turned a fierce glance on the huge fellow that made him cringe back yet again. "You had really better hope it does."

888

Harry's round childish cheeks shone in the firelight as he sat by the box and watched patiently as his baby bird breathed in and out.

"It's very small," he marveled. "How small was I when I was born?"

Snape looked up from his book. "I don't know. I didn't see you when you were born."

"That man said he held me when I was a baby," Harry said thoughtfully, smoothing down a corner of ragged blue blanket. "He said he tickled my toes."

Snape fought to keep a snarl off his lips. Now and then Harry was apt to mention That Man, and he could only suppose it was the boy's way of dealing with it. He didn't like it though, and if he could have pulled every memory of Sirius Black from Harry's head he would have.

"I don't remember him though." Harry looked up. "Will my baby bird remember me?"

"Birds are different from people, Harry," Snape told him, glad of a subject change. "If he survives he will remember the hand that fed him. He will be loyal to you your life long."

Harry frowned. "What does that mean? Loyal?"

"It means to trust and be trusted. For a wizard and his familiar it means an important bond. He will rely on you and you on him."

"Familiar," Harry said, trying out the word. "Is that another word for an owlet?"

"It's a word for a wizard's pet, Harry," Snape explained. "Muggles might have a pet for companionship or protection, but for a wizard it's all that and more. A familiar may work with a wizard, enhance his magic, or even serve him, as your owl may one day do for you."

"Carrying messages and stuff?"

"Carrying letters, yes."

Harry leaned forward, elbows on his knees, chin resting on the palms of his hands. "I like that," he decided. "I like having somebody loyal to me." He looked over at his father. "Daddy? Why don't you have a familiar?"

Because I don't want something loyal to me. I don't want a bond - to grow to love something only to have it ripped away from me. It's something I've avoided all my life.

Fat lot of good that did me.

"I've never had time," Snape said lightly, shrugging in a careless manner. "And please remember, Harry. The owlet is very fragile. It may not survive the night.'

"I know." Harry smoothed the blanket one more time then climbed easily to his feet and trotted over to his father. "Hagrid told me that babies sometimes die if they don't have a mum."

Snape shifted a little and let Harry lean against his legs in his favourite pose. Little fingers plucked at fine black satin stitches that marked out the near invisible design on Snape's robe.

"It's the way of the world sometimes, Harry," Snape murmured.

"It's kinda sad." Harry's fingers traced the fine design, smoothing over the softly sheened satin. "I wish I remembered that man who tickled my toes."

"Why?" Snape asked curiously.

Harry shrugged. "Just because."

Snape tucked Harry's dressing gown more tightly around him. "Time for bed I think."

"But, daddy!" Harry said in dismay. "Hagrid says I have to feed the baby every four hours!"

"I'll wake you when it's time to feed it again," Snape assured him, rising and ushering the boy before him. "So you better get as much sleep as possible before hand."

"All right, daddy," Harry reluctantly agreed, casting a glance back over at the bird's box. "What should I call it, do you think? Hagrid says we can't even tell if it's a boy or girl owl yet."

Recognising a delaying tactic when he heard one, Snape relentlessly pressed the boy towards the bathroom. "We'll discuss it in the morning."