Sudden screaming erupted from the hallway, and Albus charged out through the kitchen doorway, wand raised. Drawing his own wand whilst still clutching Harry, Severus caught several words: "Mudblood . . . blood traitors! . . . You think . . . defiling the Noble--" before it cut off sharply.

As the old wizard returned, Severus stood, Harry tight in his arms. The boy had fallen into an exhausted sleep. Never again. He would never let Harry out of his sight again. Severus cupped the back of his son's head, which was resting on his shoulder, and raised an eyebrow to ask what the commotion had been about.

"Portrait," Dumbledore explained.

Figures, even the portraits were ornery in Grimmauld Place. With a nod, Severus moved closer to Dumbledore and spoke softly enough that their prisoner could not hear. "You should take him to Azkaban right away, Albus! You can add kidnapping to the list of charges against him. Maybe this time the Ministry will do what it should have in the first place and give him the Kiss!"

The Headmaster frowned. "I would like to find out how he escaped first. Wouldn't you?"

"No!" Severus fired back, but then considered further. If Black had escaped once, he could do it again, unless they knew how to thwart him. "Very well," he said after a moment. "I happen to have several doses of Veritaserum with me."

The Headmaster's eyes widened behind his spectacles. "Whatever for?"

"I believe in always being prepared."

"I daresay."

Harry stirred in Severus' arms. His forehead was etched with worry lines. A stab of remorse went through Severus. His son was too young for worry to be so pervasive in his life.

Albus went on quietly, "I will administer the potion, if you want to take Harry home."

He should do so; he knew Harry needed to be back in familiar surroundings as soon as possible. But he also needed to know that Black was not going to be able to hurt him again. Severus wanted to be sure that Black would be put away for good, that he could not escape to threaten them again. To do so, he needed to see it with his own eyes. He could not rely on Albus' assertions alone, not this time.

"I will remain for the questioning," he murmured. After hitching Harry onto his hip with one arm, he removed a small vial from the inner pocket of the robe he had hastily thrown over his shoulders when they left his home a couple of hours ago. He handed the vial over to Albus and retreated to stand in the room's shadows, behind Black. Once there, he cast a flash of green light into the fireplace -- also out of Black's line of sight -- as if he and Harry had gone through the Floo. This way, Black could not unleash any of his vitriol on Harry. Or Severus.

Dumbledore cast ropes around Black's body before releasing him from the stunning spell which had knocked him over earlier. The older wizard's expression was hard, and his lack of geniality was notable. "Open your mouth, Mr. Black."

"Headmaster," the convict said in a scratchy voice, addressing Albus as if he were in the man's employ, or worse, still a student! "Please. I didn't kill them. I wasn't the Secret Keeper!"

Albus halted, the dropper of Veritaserum in one hand. He did not look at Severus, but he must have known was he was thinking. Even so, Severus pushed out his thoughts to the powerful Legilimens: Black will say anything to get away, to make you favor him again. Albus nodded slightly, and coldly said, "That is not at issue now. Although, if you will agree to questioning under Veritaserum, you might answer to those charges, as well."

"Yes! Of course. Anything, please." Black's voice was clogged with tears. "I'm so sorry. I am. Didn't know what I was doing; I'd never hurt Harry. Didn't mean to. I didn't, not ever, but he's all I have left of James," the man blubbered, his shoulders shaking. He sniffled over and over, as if trying not to break down sobbing.

Severus was unmoved.

Apparently, so was Albus. "Open your mouth," he said again. This time, Black complied. The Headmaster dripped three drops of the potion on Black's tongue, then recapped the bottle. It would take about 30 seconds for the effects to take hold.

"First," Albus said when the requisite time had passed, "I will ask you several questions to ascertain whether the potion is working. What is your name?"

"Sirius Orion Black," Black answered in the odd monotone people under the effects of Veritaserum used. But Black was wily; he could fake being caught under the potion's power, if he had will enough to do it and yet maintain his own ego.

"What is your mother's name?"

"Walburga Black-Black." Though he spoke with the same monotone, Black's words were followed by a high pitched giggle. "Daughter of Black and married a Black, black as her little black heart."

Albus looked a little worried. Severus could understand. If Black was too crazed to answer under the serum, this would do no good at all.

"Do you have any siblings?"

"Not any more. No, no more. Poor Regulus went away." Black looked up suddenly, and his voice was stronger. "I did have one, until that monster killed him."

Severus wasn't sure which monster was meant, but he'd bet on the Dark Lord. For Severus' own part, he had not seen the youngest Black since the late seventies. It was put about by the Death Eaters that Regulus, who was the youngest among them, had fallen from the Dark Lord's favor, or worse, had left his service . . . Rather, that he tried to, and been killed by the Dark Lord for the personal affront. But Severus had never known how -- or if -- Regulus had actually died.

"Tell me the sun is green," said Dumbledore.

"The sun is . . . gu . . . gre . . . great to see again."

"Excellent. Let us begin. How did you escape from Azkaban?"

Black let out another giggle. "The Grim did it! I went along for the ride."

Severus scowled. Obviously the bastard was trying to play the serum, trying to get out of answering truthfully. He should have expected nothing less from the scoundrel.

Dumbledore, too, looked put off. "The Grim is your unregistered Animagus form, correct?"

Black shuddered and then said, "Yes."

"How did you get off the island?"

"I swam."

"How did you get past the prison guards?"

Nice euphemism for Dementors, Severus thought, but he was very interested in the answer.

"The Grim. The Dem . . . they . . . they don't notice so much without feelings. Don't notice animals . . . as a Grim, a duh . . . a dog, I didn't have the right feelings to feed them. Not so tasty as a puppy!" Black laughed loudly. "Paid me no mind if I sat still when they passed. Coulda nipped their heels."

Albus looked up and away, tapping a finger to his chin as if thinking, but his gaze met Severus' in truth. If what Black said was reliable, any Animagus could enter or exit the prison at will. And Severus knew several Animagi -- unregistered, of course -- who should never been allowed to know this information, if for no other reason than if they were ever caught and prosecuted for their crimes, imprisonment at Azkaban would not be effective punishment.

The Headmaster had continued the questioning, and Black was saying, "… heard a report about those Dursleys. James always hated 'em, 'specially after he met 'em. I knew Harry was there," he said in an odd sing-song voice, "so I worried for the bairn. Had to escape to find him, to check up and find him, make sure he was okay. James would've wanted me to make sure he was okay. He would've wanted me to. Looked all around, smelled them all, stinking as they were, and when I couldn't find my little Harry there, I went to good ol' Hoggy warts to see what I could see. Heard that ol' Sni . . . sniv . . . Snapey had him, and I knew where the gre . . . greas . . . nast . . . where Snape was living. So I went to res . . . rescue Harry. He's muh muh my . . . I mean, he's James' suh, suh . . . he's James' . . . Argh!" Black thumped his head on the floor, coughing and wheezing after trying to so hard to get some words out, and obviously distraught at not being able to repeat his old lies about himself or James, in relation to Harry.

Severus could have cheered. But what he heard next chilled him to the bone.

"Albus," Black pleaded. "I told the boy, I told Harry, and I'll tell you now, I never meant to hurt him. I just wanted him safe. I was never Secret Keeper for James and Lily, I swear it. Peter was. He's the one who told Voldemo--"

"You lie!" Severus snapped. Forgetting he was meant to remain hidden, he surged forward so he could see the face of his lover's betrayer. "You killed Lily. Admit it!"

Black's expression shifted from surprised to rage in an instant. "How can I? It's your Veritaserum, isn't it?"

Nearly spitting with fury, Severus hissed, "Witnesses saw you attack--"

"They saw what Peter wanted them to see. He exploded the street. He cut off his own damn finger to leave it behind for others to find. Then he . . . he ran away, ran down the drain like a little rat, escaped like the vermin he was."

"That's impossible," Severus whispered, aware that Harry was waking because of his agitation. He smoothed a hand across the back of the boy's head and shoulder blades to calm him. "You're mad."

"Of course, of course! I'm mad as a corpse! Like to see you do better after six years in Azkabenny! You wouldn't last a . . . not a da . . . Damn!"

Severus sneered. "You know better than to lie under Veritaserum. Or maybe you don't. You've always been so arrogant, just like your best friend. You're a bully, Black, you and your trio of rule-breaking pack mates. Not one of you ever did anything that wasn't to your own benefit. You got what you deserved in Azkaban, for trying to kill me via your pet Werewolf if nothing else. Go on, tell me you didn't!"

Black couldn't do it. Not that he didn't try. But the serum was stronger than Black's will, not that Severus was surprised. Coughing and wheezing his way through attempted disavowals of all mischief and maliciousness, Black blubbered on piteously. Severus had no pity in him for the worst tormentor of his school days.

After a minute or two, when the serum was almost at the end of its usefulness, Black protested in the thick drone of those still under its effects, a sure sign he was fighting it no longer, "But you know it's true now, don't you? About me? I wasn't the Secret Keeper. It was Peter, I swear it was."

To Severus' horror, Dumbledore's expression had softened as he gazed at the bound man by their feet. "I do believe you, my dear boy, and I shall do what I can--"

"Albus!" Severus took another step toward the Headmaster. "It's madness! He's crazed and truly believes his lies, but lies are all they are."

"No, no, I didn't, I didn't kill them, you have to believe me, you slimy, sneaking Slytherin snivelly Snape!" Black was off again, sing-songing nonsense, and the serum had evidently lost its power over him as the monotone was completely gone. And his vitriol was back in full swing.

Severus ignored him.

"I'm not accepting all of what he said, certainly," started Dumbledore.

"But what? You're willing to believe enough to give him false hope? He belongs in Azkaban. He kidnapped my son!"

At that moment, Harry blinked open tired, green eyes. "Daddy?"

"Harry, it's all right. I'm here," said Severus.

"Harry, my boy, it's good to see you safe," Dumbledore told him at the same time, while Black chimed in from the floor with a, "Harry! Forgive me!"

Harry froze in that instant, as if he knew a single movement would spell his death. His lips only moved a fraction as he darted a look to Severus' eyes and whispered, "Daddy, is the Black man gonna hurt me again?"

"No, no, never, Harry. I won't let him touch you again. Did he hurt you badly? What did he do to you?"

"Nothing! I did nothing to him. I'd never hurt my godson!"

"He isn't yours, you completely idiotic cur! If you had more than one brain cell in your head you'd realize that."

"I still wouldn't hurt him," Black protested. "I'd never . . . even if he's not . . . not even if . . . Albus! You must know! You know me! I held him in my arms when he was just a baby. I changed his diapers. I'd never ever hurt him."

Albus turned to Severus. "Perhaps it would be best to take Harry home now."

Severus wanted to protest, but he knew it would do him no good. Albus already knew his assumptions and fears about Black with regards to Harry, and he would make whatever decisions he wanted, whether or not for Harry's sake. He drew a deep breath, knowing, too, that Albus was right about needing to take Harry away from here. "Very well. Just . . . please don't release him, Albus, if nothing else I say can sway you. I can't worry about him more this night, and neither can Harry."

"I understand. Take Harry to Hogwarts if you prefer. You can Floo to my office from here."

Severus agreed, and stepped to the fireplace. Harry's Kneazle kit darted over to them and he lifted it by the nape to give to Harry to hold. Instead of casting the spell of green light, he took up Floo powder in his right hand. Before he threw the powder down, he told Harry to hold his breath, and the three of them whirled their way to Hogwarts.

After a change of night clothes and a quick cleaning spell, Harry was so tired Severus put him straight to bed, and Severus sat in the chair by his bedside, watching him sleep.

--HPSSHPSSHPSS--

Unsurprisingly, when Harry woke, it was with nightmares. Severus soothed him, rocking him in his arms and whispering that everything was all right, that he was safe from harm and from Black and the Dursleys and everyone. The nightmares were almost the worst they'd ever been, and Severus had to stop Harry from biting into his hand again, but the boy kept moaning, "Sorry; didn't mean to tell, didn't mean to tell, please, I'm sorry, I'll be good . . ."

All Severus could do was remind him where he was, and with whom, and make sure Harry didn't hurt himself, and tell his son he could tell his Daddy anything. Anything at all.

Harry finally drifted off again, but Severus kept him in his lap, resting his cheek atop the boy's halo of soft, black hair, continually whispering to him that he was safe and home.

Later in the morning, when Harry woke for good, Severus pushed him to talk about his nightmare a little, to expel the poison, as it were, and to tell him what Black had done to him as well.

"I had to make him listen," Harry said. "He kept not listening, Daddy."

Severus noted, once more, that Harry had not stopped calling him Daddy since the night before. Not that he minded -- he preferred it to "Father," actually, since that was what he had needed to call his own father. Or else. But he also realized that Harry had only called him "Daddy" when he was frightened or waking from a nightmare. Thus, he was still scared and probably would be, for quite a while, from this newest trauma.

"That has long been a fault of his," Severus acknowledged. They were sitting together on the chair they often used for story time, since Severus figured Harry would be most comfortable there, and Harry seemed to want to be in constant physical contact with him. He cupped Harry's cheek. "What did you tell him?"

Harry looked away, his whole body trembling. "What I'm not s'posed to. What they tol' me not to."

"The Dursleys?"

Harry nodded, still refusing to look at him. He appeared braced for a blow. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to tell him, but he wouldn't listen. I couldn't let him send me back there, back to them. They'd kill me for sure this time, I bet."

Horrified that Harry might think he would ever have to go back to those people, Severus instantly said, "No, Harry. Never. They'll never have another chance to touch you. Nor will Black." He kissed Harry's forehead. "I'm not angry with you. Not at all." He swallowed hard, hating to say this, but he would, for Harry's sake. "I'm pleased you told . . . someone what they did to you, even if it was Black."

"Really, Daddy?"

"Yes, Harry. I want to feel safe enough to tell me anything, any time you need to. Remember how our rules here are different from theirs? You must forget their rule about not telling when you're hurt or scared, or when you remember something bad that happened to you. My rule is to share things like that. Remember?"

Harry nodded and relaxed into his arms. His eyes closed briefly. Then, after biting his lip for a moment, he said, "He's sorry, Daddy. I think he's real sorry. And I . . . I don't think he hurt my Mum and James."

For a brief instant, Severus believed it. He could just see Potter and Black, thinking they were so clever to make Pettigrew the Secret Keeper, picking the one man of their foursome whom no one would suspect could trusted with the whereabouts of the Potters and Harry. He recalled, too, the swiftness with which Black was incarcerated, without benefit of a trial and only the forefinger of Pettigrew as evidence the fourth Marauder was dead.

At the time, Black's treatment was the only ray of sunshine in the agonizing horror of the darkest place in which Severus had ever been, with his only love dead, at least partially due to his own actions. He wanted someone to blame. As did everyone in the Wizard community. They had called for blood, and went after Black with a sanguinary fury.

But the moment passed. Severus could never trust Black with Harry, could never trust him to be near his son. He would ward Spinner's End, and ward everywhere else he could against scrying and against Black in every form he could imagine: Grim, human, invisible, everything. He would--

He was interrupted by the voice of Dumbledore, coming from his fireplace.

Naturally.

After he had invited the elderly wizard into his home, and served him tea -- Oh, the irony! -- he pressed Dumbledore for news.

"I have been able to secure Sirius Black at St. Mungo's," Dumbledore said, in far to calm a voice.

"What?!" Severus snarled, then immediately lowered his voice so as not to frighten Harry more; he had wanted Harry to stay in his room whilst he spoke to the Headmaster, but Harry did not want to leave his side, and in fact was still sitting in his lap. He could not blame the boy for clinging to him. "He's not at Azkaban? He did kidnap Harry, recall."

Dumbledore's mouth turned down. "His placement is pending a trial, my boy. He will have a chance, this time, to defend himself -- if he is able -- perhaps with the help of my pensieve in addition to Veritaserum." Dumbledore raised his hand to stave off another of Severus' rants. "I understand your fears, Severus. And, too, I understand the ill will you bear for Sirius, but--"

"He bears even more for me," Severus interrupted, but Dumbledore did not stop speaking, just raised his eyebrows in silent admonishment.

"But he has already spent six years in Azkaban for a crime he may not have committed, an imprisonment which I, for one, pressed for greatly amongst my fellows at the Wizengamot. Please allow an old man to rectify his mistakes."

That took the bite out of Severus' retort. Dumbledore admitting a mistake happened with the frequency of Halley's Comet passing earth. Still, he had a few arguments left. He put a protective arm around Harry's waist, but Harry was already tense. "I don't want him near my son."

"Now, do not be too hasty, my boy."

"Hasty? Are you attempting a joke, Albus? I tell you, I am not in the mood for levity."

"Not at all. I simply think that perhaps Harry should have some say in whether he wants to see his godfather."

"Black is not Harry's godfather!"

"That may not be the truth. Please understand--"

"There is nothing to understand," Severus hissed. "James had no right to assign Black to that role."

"But he did," Albus said, folding his hands together on his lap. There were high points of color on his cheeks, a rarity all its own. He nodded toward Harry. "Though he is your son, Harry was born into an existing marriage. Technically--"

"Technically," Severus snorted, gripping Harry tighter to himself, and Harry clung to him, in turn.

"Technically," Albus repeated, "at the time, Harry was Lily and James' son, until you stepped forward and claimed paternity. Thus, at the time, James had the right to make Sirius Black Harry's godfather. Despite the fact that you have custody now, and have every right to it, at the time of Harry's birth, James had the legal right to be called Harry's father and to name who he wished as godfather."

"By whose laws?"

"The Wizengamot, I'm afraid. The Wizarding Paternity Statute of 1837. Since Lily was legally married to--"

"Enough," Severus interrupted. "Enough. I understand." He knew Harry did not, but he would explain it to his son as best he could, if he could ever get past the sinking feeling in his chest.

"It has not been an issue previously, of course, because Sirius has been incarcerated ever since the Potters died. But now that he will likely be freed -- or at least will have the chance to prove his innocence -- he does have certain rights."

Turning his face away, Severus covered his eyes and much of his expression with his hair, one of his favored methods of hiding when he did not want anyone to know what he was thinking. Harry could see him, of course, but he had vowed some time ago never to hide from his son. The boy's green eyes were troubled, wary. Severus took a breath. "Very well."

"You will allow him to see Harry?"

Still holding his son's gaze, he said, "No. I will allow Harry to decide."