In the Headmaster's office, Severus sat with his head in his hands, and tried to hold his emotions in check. When he thought he could speak without breaking down, he said, "I don't think I'm cut out for this. I think we made a mistake."

"Why don't you tell me what happened, dear boy."

"Harry had a nightmare."

Albus nodded, an understanding smile on his lips. "Not his first, surely."

"No," Severus agreed. "But this was the first time I couldn't rouse him from it. And I had been drinking."

With a frown, Albus said, "Are the two related?"

"I don't know! Maybe. Probably. I should have remembered. I saw it in his memories. Vernon's," he snarled the name. "He was always more violent when he was drinking. Of course the boy would remember as well. And I spilled it, and he was crying, and biting his hand, like he shouldn't make any sound at all, and the blood . . ."

Before he realized it, Albus was beside him, a hand on his shoulder, and speaking, but it took a moment for him to hear the words as anything but condemnation. "Shh, Severus. Take a breath. He'll be all right, I'm sure."

"Will he?" Severus shook off the Headmaster's hand and was on his feet in a heartbeat. He thumped a fist on his chest. "I reminded him of that awful place, of his horrid uncle. I frightened him enough that he tore a chunk out of his hand to keep from crying! I can't do this, I can't hurt him anymore, Albus!"

"Severus, please. Calm yourself."

"I don't want to be calm, dammit! I want to go back to their despicable, hateful house and kill them. I want to send them to the Dementors, and I want to watch them lose their souls."

"And your wish for Harry?"

His pacing brought him near the fireplace, and he rested his head on the mantle. "I want him to be safe."

"He's safe with you."

Severus shook his head. "He isn't. I think I healed the hand well enough, but only time will tell. What if he never gets back function of it? He won't tell me when he's hurt, just says he's fine. I can't be good for him, though I try. My temper . . . there must be someone else."

"No. You're the only one who can do this now, Severus. You're the only ones the wards would form for."

"Albus, there must be someone else who loved Lily, who can take him. Someone more stable, more together . . . less like me." He couldn't bear the thought of giving the boy up, but he wanted more than anything else, for Harry to be safe . . . for him to feel safe.

"I'm afraid it's not as easy as that," Albus said quietly. "The ritual--"

He whirled around to glare at the Headmaster. "Was flawed! I know it and so do you. What the hell happened to Harry? The ritual should have made him change slowly, but he's . . ." Severus hung his head. "I don't know what he is."

"He's your son."

Sighing, Severus said, "Yes, I know. The ritual . . ." He looked at Albus, who was holding his gaze, and the knowledge hit him like a bludger. "You don't mean because of the adoption."

"No. He was already your son."

"That's impossible! I counted. Lily--"

"Was brilliant at Charms." Albus smiled gently. "And should have been sorted into Slytherin, I think. She . . . adjusted things, in James' favor."

"For Merlin's sake, why?"

"Do you really need to ask?"

No. He really didn't. It was so long ago, it was hard to dredge up specific memories, but he recalled how terribly alone he'd been feeling the night he and Lily were together. He had been working as a spy for Albus, for the Order, for almost a year at that point, and had no one to talk with about any of it, except for Albus, who had very little time for him, aside from reports.

He knew Lily was dating James at the time, but they seemed to have entered a cooler phase of their relationship, and he'd mentioned it to Lily after a meeting one September night, that she seemed sad. She'd broken down, and cried on his shoulder, about how James was being a prat --well, he knew that! -- and how she couldn't believe some of the things he'd say to her, or about other people. Over the course of the evening, they talked like they hadn't done since school, and when he kissed away the tears on her cheeks . . . well. One thing led to another.

Yet, inside of two weeks, she'd announced her engagement to James, followed in less than a month by their wedding, and Harry had been born in July, a good ten months after their one night together.

"No. It was ten months. She couldn't have . . ."

"Severus, give an old man some credit. Lily knew if it was discovered that the child was yours, your position in Voldemort's inner circle would have been compromised. She came to me, asking if I knew any way to delay the baby's birth, without harming him, of course."

"You . . . you helped her? You kept this from me, all this time?"

"I'm sorry," Albus said. There was nothing but sincerity in his voice. And Severus hated him for it.

"You're sorry! Just think what kind of life I could have given him, if only I had known! He would never had been with those Dursleys to begin with!"

"And your Potions Mastery?"

"Sod my potions! Why didn't you tell me? If not at the beginning, then at least once the Dark Lord was gone?"

"For the same reason Lily had to hide this from you." Albus' eyes were clear blue, and twinkle free. "Severus, there are still servants of Voldemort's at large, who would do whatever they could to harm the boy. You know this better than anyone. I thought he would be better off with protections from Lily, leaving you free to continue your work for the Order."

"And we see how well that worked out." Severus sank back in his chair, head back in his hands. He couldn't believe it. Harry was really his son. "What about the ritual, then? Why did it work at all?"

"I spoke with Enid before hand, and we discussed what would be best. She doesn't know the truth," Albus added quickly. "Just that not everything was as it seemed."

Severus couldn't help it; he chuckled low in his throat, an almost desperate laugh. "I can see through her charms, can't I? That's why he looked right to me from the start, even though he went through all that pain?"

Albus took his own seat again, and surveyed Severus over the top of his folded hands. "Lily's charms came off, yes, as a result of the ritual. But you could already see him as he truly was because he was of your blood."

"Why the subterfuge, Albus? Why not just tell me he was my son when you asked me to go take a look at him?"

"I had to make sure you truly wanted him, and not out of obligation. It was the only way the ward could be transferred."

Severus sighed, feeling tired, and sick to death of being manipulated. But none of that was Harry's fault. And f he truly was the only one -- besides the Dursleys -- who could keep Harry, then he would do it. He only hoped that he would not hurt the boy further in his ignorance and carelessness. "I may need to take him to a Muggle hospital, because of the damage to his hand."

"Whatever you need, my dear boy. I know this is a lot to take in. Perhaps you ought to spend the rest of the day with Harry. Don't worry about the staff meeting this afternoon. It will be mostly going over dormitory cleaning schedules, anyway."

Knowing a dismissal when he heard one, Severus rose. "Thank you, Albus," he said with a slight incline of his head.

"Not at all," the Headmaster replied, but Severus was already on the stairs, in search of Harry.

---

In Hagrid's hut, Harry took a seat when Hagrid waved him into one, having to climb up on to it like it was a jungle gym set at school. While the giant man filled the kettle with water from a big barrel, Harry motioned for Nelli to join him from where she was hanging back, by the doorway. Nelli shook her head, but Harry gestured again. "C'mon, Nelli. Father says Hagrid's kind."

"Oh, no, Master Harry. Nelli is not supposed to be in others's houses," she said with a worried frown. "Not unless she is invited."

"Well, Hagrid can invite you, right?" Harry raised his voice. "Hagrid, sir? Can you invite Nelli in for tea, too?"

The man turned from the fireplace, where he'd just hung the kettle and gave them a wide grin. "O' course, 'Arry. Step in, there you go, little Nelli. Always room fer one more."

"See?" Harry grinned at Nelli as she sidled closer to him and hopped onto the chair beside him -- there was plenty of room for them both. "Thanks, Hagrid, sir."

"Ach, 'Arry, it's jus' Hagrid."

Harry smiled at him. "And this is Nelli. She's a house elf, like me."

Nelli turned her head so fast Harry thought he heard a Pop! Her eyes were very wide. "Youse is not being a house elf, Master Harry."

"I was. At the Dursleys. Father says I don't have to be one anymore, though."

Hagrid put a plate of round cakes on the table. They were crusted with sugar and slivers of nuts. "Oh, now, Harry. People can't be house elves. They're a diff'rent kind o' creature alt'gether."

"But I was one." Tears of frustration formed in his eyes, and he dashed them away with his good hand. "I did cleaning and cooking and gardening, and all of it. If I wasn't a house elf, why'd they keep me at all?"

"'Ere, now, Harry. I don' know 'bout that. But have a cake. Made 'em meself!"

After a moment, he took one of the cakes and nibbled on the edge. It was very hard, and very sweet, but he didn't put it down. Food, after all, was not to be wasted. "Thanks."

Laying big mugs and a sugar bowl on the table, Hagrid settled in another chair, which creaked under his weight. "Now, tell me 'ow you're getting along with your new Da, eh? 'E treating you a'right?"

"Oh, he's great!" Harry said, perking back up. "He's got me all new clothes, and my own broom, and toys, and I have my own room and everything."

"Well, tha's great, Harry. Now, what happ'd to yer hand there?"

Harry looked at the bandage, which had a bit of dog drool on it, and some dirt from when he'd brushed off his pants, but was otherwise intact. "I . . . Father said I bit it. In my sleep." He shrugged and nibbled another edge off his cake. "It's fine."

Hagrid grunted something under his breath, and got up a moment later to get the boiling kettle. He poured tea into each of the mugs and pushed the sugar bowl towards Harry. "Careful now, tha's hot."

"Yes, sir." Harry added a bit of sugar -- he'd never been allowed sugar at the Dursleys! -- and stirred it in before blowing on his tea. Nelli, beside him, was staring at her mug as if it were poisoned. "Aren't you gonna have any tea?" he asked her.

Her big blue eyes swiveled to meet his gaze. "Oh, n-no th-th-thank you, M-master Harry. Nelli is fine, sirs."

Well, something was weird, 'cause she was stuttering like that Dobby had been, when he was nervous. But he wasn't gonna make her drink tea, if she didn't want it. "Do you still have any Streelers?" he asked Hagrid.

"No, no o' course not. Had to give 'em all up, didn't I?" Hagrid rubbed a hand over his beard and came out with a piece of what looked like old biscuit, which he promptly tucked into his mouth. "Nope, sorry. No Streelers at all. Did come across a proper Porlock, though. Gave him a good spot in the fores', so 'e's not too bothered by students, ye know."

"What's a Porlock?" Harry asked.

Just then, Nelli gave a small squeak, and disappeared with a Pop! Harry stared at the space she was in and then at Hagrid. "Do you think she's afraid of Porlocks?"

"Nah. Probably got called by someone up t'castle. House elves're always bein' called, aren't they?"

Harry nodded. Though he couldn't vanish like that, he'd always been called when there was a job to do, too. He tried to lift his mug and found he needed both hands, but the left one was so sore, he couldn't really manage to close his fingers around it. Instead, he just used that hand for balance, and put all the weight on his good hand, easing it up to his mouth. The tea was much better than the cake, nicely sweet.

"Doesn' look fine," Hagrid said. "That hand needs lookin' at."

"My Father took care of it," Harry told him. "And it is fine."

"Uh huh," Hagrid muttered, just as Nelli reappeared.

"Master Snapes is looking for you, Master Harry. He is wanting youse back in his quarters. Nelli is to be bringing you back now, Master Harry."

With a little sigh -- he still didn't know what Porlocks were -- Harry said, "Yes, Nelli. Thanks, Hagrid, for the tea!"

"Come down anytime, Harry. I'll make up more cakes tomorrow, a'right?"

"Great, thanks!" Harry petted Fang's head as he went by the dog, still drooling on the front stoop, and followed Nelli back up the hill to the castle. He didn't think it was lunch time already, and wondered why his father was calling him back early. Maybe he was mad about Harry's hand and wanted to scold him. Maybe he was tired of Harry's nightmares waking him up, and wanted to send him away!

That must be it, that's why he'd been talking to the Headmaster! He'd have to go away, go back to the Dursleys, and no one would hold him anymore when he screamed at night. He was hurrying so fast to get back that he stumbled over a rabbit hole and sprawled headlong, catching himself, unfortunately, on his hands. A shock of pain shot up his arm from the injured hand, and he let out a gasp, rolled onto his side and curled into a ball, protecting his arm, his belly, his head.

Nelli was beside him in an instant, saying something, but he could hardly hear her through the pounding of blood in his ears. "Sorry," he whispered. "Sorry."

Nelli hopped from leg to leg, and he felt sick watching her. Shutting his eyes tight, he breathed through his mouth, even as the tea threatened to come back up and choke him. He wasn't sure how long he laid there, but when the nausea finally passed, he uncurled and struggled to his feet.

Nelli was gone.

Harry staggered several steps before he had to stop to breathe. Then he managed a couple more steps. By the time he reached the main doors to the castle, he was in a right state, shaking and tearful and ready to do anything to make his father keep him, even for just one more day.

---

Severus paced the sitting room and glanced at the clock on the mantle. Where was that infernal child? He'd sent Nelli to get him more than half an hour ago. Surely he couldn't have wandered that far afield. He should have specified, in his directions to the house elf this morning, that Harry should stay indoors today, preferably in their quarters. But he hadn't been thinking clearly, after the night's events.

Where was he?

"Nelli!" he called.

The house elf appeared, looking distraught.

"Where is my son!"

"Master Snape, sir, Master Harry is fallen outside, and his hand is hurting!"

"Show me."

Snape hurried along the corridor after the elf, his black robes billowing out behind him. He was almost at the main doors when one of them clicked open, and Harry fell inward from the breach and hit the floor with a dull thud.

His face was pasty and white, and trembles wracked his frail body. Blood had soaked the bandage on his left hand. Severus gathered the boy in his arms and ran back down the hill.