Severus watched Harry explore his new room. Albus had done well by the boy; the room was of a decent size, and airy, with a magical window in one wall that showed the Hogwarts grounds. Harry stared at it for long moments before turning round.

"Father, is that . . . ? I thought we went down a long way."

"Yes, we're underground here. It's a magical window. That's the Quidditch pitch you can see there."

"They play Quidditch here? On real brooms, sir?" They had - much to Severus' dismay - read a book about Quidditch (a gift from Albus, the Old Meddler) together one evening, and the boy had thought of almost nothing else, as far as he could tell, since learning it was played on brooms. Harry seemed to have a fascination with flying that went beyond anything Severus had ever heard of, and he despaired of keeping the boy's feet on the ground.

But for now, Severus nodded, and the boy grinned and went back to his explorations. The wardrobe was already hung with his clothes, and the full sized bed was draped in blue and gold curtains. A trunk at the end of the bed held extra quilts, and Harry used a shelf on the wall to arrange his collection of dragons, as well as his Gobstones, which Dappin had taught him how to play with. The house elf had become very fond of Harry, Severus knew, and was most upset to be left behind at Spinner's End.

This room even had its own bathroom, and though not as grand as the master bath, it was large enough for a sunken tub, basin and toilet. Rather than looked pleased, however, Harry stood in the door of the bathroom and stared, lip between his teeth.

With a frown, Severus surveyed the room, and the boy, before he realized what was wrong. "Move back a bit, Harry," he said, and Harry startled, but did as he was told. Severus drew his wand and in a few swishes and one flick, he transfigured the tub into a wide shower instead, the glass paneling covered with brooms chasing after golden snitches.

"Thank you, sir," Harry breathed.

Severus nodded again. They were going to have to discuss this particular fear of Harry's one day. But not now. Today, they had other things to address. One that he'd been putting off for some time, and another, newer development.

"Come out to the sitting room. We need to talk," he said, and the boy obeyed, looking suddenly fearful. To reassure him, he said, "You're not in trouble. We just have to . . . I have some things I need to discuss with you."

Looking slightly less nervous, but not at ease by any means, Harry stood in the sitting room, in front of the chair Severus settled into, until Severus waved him into a seat on the davenport. Putting up a privacy charm, to prevent any eavesdropping by Meddling Old Codgers, he peered around the room again.

The accommodations here were quite nice, really. The furniture was in neutral tones, and of a comfortable level of plushness for one's back. The walls were lined with built-in bookshelves, and there was plenty of space for more bookcases, should he need them. He probably would. A small private potions lab lay at the end of the hall, opposite his own bedroom, which was next to Harry's. There was a study as well as this sitting room and a small kitchen. For the most part, they would avail themselves of the house elves' cooking, but every once in a while, he liked to make his own tea, thank you very much.

Once his gaze returned to Harry, sitting with his hands neatly folded in his lap, still looking for all the world as if he were about to be chastised, Severus sighed a little. "Harry, look at me, please."

The boy lifted his gaze, but not his head, and Severus found himself staring at Lily's eyes, through shaggy bangs the color of coal. He was very glad after the adoption ritual that the boy still had her eyes, even though every time he saw them, he felt a pang for the chance he'd lost so long ago.

Choosing his words carefully, Severus said, "We talked very briefly before, about your parents and how they died, do you remember?"

Harry nodded. "You said they lied, my Aunt and Uncle did. That my Mum and Dad weren't really in a car accident."

"Correct." Severus unclenched his hands and made himself take a deep breath. If this was hard for him, he could only imagine how it must be for Harry! "The dreams you have . . . the lady you see in them is Lily. Your mother."

Harry's face paled as if he'd been slapped. "I hear her screaming . . ."

"Yes, child. Your parents - James and Lily - died when you were just a baby. The green light you see in your dream, that is called the Killing Curse. It's magic, but the very worst kind of magic. A Dark Wizard used that curse to kill them."

His mouth a little O, Harry stared at Severus as if he'd never seen him before. Severus waited, as Harry's brows drew down into a scowl reminiscent of his own. A few minutes later, the boy said slowly, "Aunt Petunia always said I . . . that I should've died with them. Did . . . did the Dark Wizard try to kill me, too?"

As gently as he could, Severus said, "Yes, Harry. But he didn't succeed. He vanished instead, and you ended up with just that scar on your forehead."

Harry clapped a hand to his scar. "I thought I got it . . ."

"In the car accident?" Severus tried hard not to sneer at the very idea. But Harry only nodded, and so he continued, "No. It's a curse scar, and will likely never fade. And many people in the Wizarding world know you survived the killing curse. They will know you by that scar."

The boy looked so confused, Severus relented. "I know it's a lot to take in, but Harry, you have to realize, no one else has ever survived that curse. The fact that you did, and that the Dark Lord has not been seen since the night he tried to kill you, makes you rather famous in our world. There are those who will fawn over you, those who will expect much more from you, and there are those who will not believe you capable of such magic and will resent you for it."

He paused, and considered whether to say more, but he had to, if he were to properly address the next issue. "And then there are those who followed the Dark Lord, who will be . . . less enthusiastic about the fact that you sent him scurrying. Those people, you will need to be careful of. I will protect you to the best of my ability, of course. But you will have to be vigilant as well."

"Vigilant?"

"On your guard. Even here, at Hogwarts, I'm afraid. Some of the children here have parents who once followed the Dark Lord. Of course, many of them say they were forced to act against their will, but . . ." He sighed, and stopped. There was no reason to get into the reasons why some Death Eaters were in Azkaban and others were not. It was enough - perhaps even too much - for the boy to know they were still out there.

"Will they try and kill me?" The question was so earnest, and serious, from such a young, innocent face that Severus wanted to scream from the unfairness of it all. This boy had been through so much, in his short life. Unloved, uncared for, aside from his first year, abused and neglected, then uprooted from everything familiar and told his parents were murdered . . .

But he owed Harry the truth. "They might," he said softly. "You will need to be very careful around them, and it is possible no one will mean you harm. But you will also be under my protection," he reminded him. "And I will keep you safe."

Harry nodded once, his expression not quite believing, and for some reason, that made Severus even more angry at the Dursleys than he had been since the night he cursed them. That they had used their six years as the boy's guardians to teach him little except for how not to trust that anyone would protect him, and that there was naught he could expect from life but pain. He hated them for it, and wished he'd used the Killing Curse on them instead, or had them sent to Azkaban where their every torment would plague them forever in the clutches of the Dementors.

But while his own legal status was mostly secure right now, he knew the Ministry still considered him just another Death Eater that they hadn't been able to imprison and would jump at the chance to rectify their lapse. As well, too much publicity about the Muggles the Boy Who Lived had been placed with would just put Harry's status in jeopardy. Thus, he had to content himself with knowing that at least for the next few years, the Dursleys would not have a moment when they were not reliving - as though in Harry's place - what they'd put him through. At least in their minds.

"Do you have any questions?" he asked now, though he suspected he had overloaded the boy with information that he'd have to process.

As expected, Harry shook his head. "No, Father."

"Then we have one more issue to discuss. We have been invited to have tea tomorrow with an old . . . friend of mine. He has a son about your age, Draco, who is also my godson. The Malfoys are an old Wizarding family, very influential in some circles, and they are anxious to meet you."

Harry was quiet again, and when he spoke, Severus was quite pleased that he seemed to understand the implications of the two topics he'd presented. "Do I need to be careful around them, then?"

"Yes. But Lucius Malfoy is very well thought of at the Ministry, just now, and it is unlikely he would do anything to jeopardize his position."

"Okay."

"Good." Severus rose. "It's nearly lunchtime. Why don't you go wash up and I'll have the house elves send us something to eat."

"Yes, Father!"

Severus watched the boy scramble off to the bathroom, the prospect of a regular meal still as exciting to him today as it had been earlier in the week. One day, he hoped Harry would take such things as meals and safety for granted.

---

After lunch, Harry's father sent him off with Nelli, so he could get some work done, he said, in his new classroom. Harry didn't mind, ‘cause Nelli was willing to show him around Hogwarts, though she said she couldn't take him out to the pitch without specific permission from his father. She showed him where the kitchens were, though, and some of the nearby student bathrooms, which he thought were huge and grand, with marble fixtures, and odd statues peeking out from corners. In the corridors, they passed hundreds of suits of armor and millions of statues, all of them wizards and witches, Nelli said, and Harry tried to read the plaques on their bases, but couldn't parse many of the words, only some of the letters. Nelli showed him some of the other classrooms, too, and they even toured a beautiful summer garden before she took him into the Great Hall.

Harry stood in the doorway of the enormous chamber, gaping up at the sky. They were indoors, and yet . . . the sky! Like his bedroom back at Spinner's End, but this one was so huge!

"It changes, Master Harry, sir, when the weather changes outside," Nelli said.

"It's brilliant! Is it magic?"

Nelli nodded happily. "Oh, yes, Master Harry. Hogwarts is having magic in the walls and in all her rooms and everywhere."

"Really? Is it all good magic?"

"Yes, Master Harry, sir. Hogwarts magic is the bestest kind of magic. House elves, like Nelli, sir, very much like working here."

Harry smiled at her. "I like it here, too."

"What have we here?" a voice drawled, behind them.

Harry jumped and spun in place. A very ugly man with stringy hair and beady eyes looked him up and down and scowled, more nastily than even Father could manage in his worst moods. A scraggly cat wound in and around his legs, its yellow eyes blinking slowly.

"Sorry, sir! I was just looking."

The man's face darkened as he caught sight of dirt from the garden on Harry's shoes. "Sneak in here, did you? Not enough to spend all my time cleaning up after brats while school's in, now you come in to ruin my work in summer, too? I won't have it!" The man grabbed Harry by the collar. "I'll have you to the Headmaster, boy!"

Though usually very fast, Harry was surprised enough that he did not dodge in time to avoid the man's claw-like grip. Too quickly, he found himself dangling by the collar, toes barely touching the floor as the man dragged him back down the corridor. Harry's breath came very fast, and he caught at the door frame, but the man was strong and pulled him away. The hard wood scraped his hands raw.

"Nelli!" he cried, but the house elf vanished with a pop. The man didn't slow, and Harry knew he was in real trouble, probably he'd get a beating. "Please, sir! I'm sorry. I didn't know I wasn't s'posed to go-"

"Shuddup, ye whelp. The Headmaster will hear of this. I'll have you in chains ‘fore the day is out, you mark my words."

No! Oh, no. Not the chain again, he couldn't . . . Harry could barely breathe, and thought, if he could just get to his father, if he could just get away for a second . . . He scrabbled at the hand gripping his shirt, digging into the man's flesh with his nails, and though the man cursed him and shook him hard, he didn't let go.

Oh, no. Please. He wanted to scream, but after the man shook him, he couldn't get any air into his lungs, couldn't breathe at all. Father, help!

A bright white light flared around Harry for the briefest of moments, then formed into a ball and darted away, toward the massive stairs and through the door to the dungeons. The man dragging him forward didn't pay any attention to it, though, and hauled him to the steps. Harry's feet and ankles banged on the steps as the man swung him up each one. Harry clawed at his shirt, bunched tight at his throat. Flecks of light sparked in his vision as the rest of the world went dark.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!? RELEASE MY SON AT ONCE!!"

The air crackled like just before a thunderstorm, but he wasn't scared. His father was here now, and he could let go.