The headmaster and the Potions professor were about to rejoin the other members of the Order of the Phoenix when shouts from the floor below made them jump to their feet.

“Albus!” bellowed a voice they recognised as Moody’s.

A cacophony of shouts accompanied the voice and the two men rushed into the sitting room with their wands in hand, ready to face an orchestrated Death Eater attack.

But, arriving on the floor below, they found only five adults completely besides themselves as they shouted in all directions, while the two teenagers looked on, aghast, sheltering a black, green-eyed cat that seemed just as worried and surprised by the Order members' behaviour.

“What’s going on here?” shouted Snape in turn.

“Bloody hell, the nerve of those Muggles! I can’t believe it!” Moody replied.

“Albus,” said Kingsley, “a letter has just arrived from the Ministry. I think you'll want to read it quickly… and in private,” he added with a meaningful look at the children.

The headmaster took the letter he held out to him. The Ministry seal left him in no doubt as to the sender.

“It came through the chimney,” Kingsley explained. “Apparently, it was sent to your office and redirected here. It was addressed ’To whom it may concern,’ and given the ‘urgent’ label, we took it upon ourselves to open it without waiting for you.”

Dumbledore nodded as he rapidly scanned the letter. When he finally looked up, all eyes were fixed on him and the entire room was silent.

“What are you going to do, Albus?” asked Tonks impatiently.

Beside her, Snape coughed to remind the headmaster that, unlike the others, he still did not know what had provoked such an outcry…

Dumbledore turned towards the teenagers sitting in the armchair and searched the cat's eyes. “Harry, a new problem seems to have arisen, and it's best that you be informed. This news might upset you, and I would like you to do everything possible to remain calm and avoid another transformation. Can I count on you?”

Harry thought that it was difficult to respond, since he didn't know what was happening, but he didn’t really have much choice. He nodded again, a movement that seemed so strange in this form. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Snape come closer to him. Strangely, there was something reassuring about this… Hermione put a hand gently on his shoulders and he suddenly felt ready to serenely face all worst news in the world.

He was wrong.

“Harry, the Ministry has sent me this letter as a result of a complaint from your family. Your uncle and aunt have stated that we took you from them and they want you returned as quickly as possible,” said Dumbledore in a serious voice.

Harry felt as though the sky had fallen in. He scarcely heard Ron and Hermione’s cries, or her hand tightening on his back, but Snape’s voice, on the other hand, could not be ignored. A voice that wouldn't have been more filled with menace and rage if Neville had made the dungeon explode, and Harry could almost hear, ‘One hundred points from Gryffindor!’. But in the end, it was the same idea.…

“Albus, I told you to let me take care of that family of degenerates!”

Harry wanted to protest; it was his family after all! But on second thought, he had to admit that the insult was not totally undeserved. Why, then, did they suddenly want to see him again? Certainly not to assure his wellbeing.

“I thought I had been sufficiently convincing during my last visit… but I see that someone else made a better argument than me,” sighed Dumbledore, glancing at Snape.

“Undoubtedly,” the latter murmured.

“What do you mean by that?” asked Molly nervously.

“It seems obvious that these Muggles, who have no relationship with Potter except on paper, only want him back for a single reason: to hand him or, more likely, sell him to the Dark Lord,” the Potions professor replied darkly.

A low murmuring answered him.

Harry froze. He knew very well that obviously the Dursleys didn’t really want to see him again… but to leap from that to givng him to Voldemort?

“No one will find you here, Harry,” Arthur Weasley said reassuringly. “There is no question that these Muggles will get anywhere near you after what’s happened. Bloody hell, Albus, the Ministry should be after them! Don’t they remember that they were the ones who drove Harry away?”

“Not to mention leaving him almost for dead,” replied Snape. “That’s probably the idea, by the way... this excuse of a human didn't have a problem informing me that he'd be glad to cooperate with Voldemort if he intended to sort Harry out once and for all. I suppose the Dark Lord took good note of this.”

“I'm ready to wager that Voldemort himself sent the letter to the Ministry,” murmured Tonks.

“More likely their Squib neighbour” replied the Potions master. “Whichever it was, it doesn’t make a great deal of difference to the original plan. Harry must be hidden for the remaining two weeks of the holidays, after which he will return to Hogwarts. Between now and then, things will surely have been sorted out.”

“They will be,” agreed Dumbledore, “But it won’t be easy… Harry, I was planning to remove you from your uncle and aunt’s care anyway; I can promise that you will not return there.”

Harry felt a strange warmth spread through him. He suddenly felt like sleeping… He was never going back to Privet Drive. Never. He would never see Petunia’s face twist in disgust every time she saw him, Dudley would never push him around again, and Uncle Vernon would never again raise a hand to him. Never.

He felt his paws weaken beneath him and wisely lay down on the armchair,stunned. It was over. He hadn’t been saved for good, but that precise nightmare was at least behind him. Never again the cupboard nor the bars...

He saw someone put a bowl in front of him. He sniffed it: a repugnant liquid was floating in there. He looked up to the person who had put it downand found Snape looking at him, an indecipherable expression on his face.

“Drink it. You''ll feel better. We can’t risk you changing form now...”

After a brief hesitation, the cat lapped up the potion.Revolting, of course, but Snape had been right: he felt more in control of himself, the shock had passed. The Potions master nodded and returned to where Dumbledore was standing.

Beside him, Harry heard Ron grumble: “Since when does he call him Harry?”

“However,”continued Dumbledore, “the situation is delicate. In order to remove guardianship from the Dursleys, it would be necessary to prove that Harry has not been well-treated there, and of course provide his eye-witness account... This would require Harry to go to the Ministry. I do not think this would be a wise move at the moment. In addition, the fact that the letter came to my office indicates clearly that the Ministry suspects we know where Harry is... possibly even that we are hiding him ourselves. We need, therefore, to be particularly vigilant. Of course, Harry’s new powers give us a comfortable headstart.”

“I was hoping that Harry would be able to come to the Burrow,” sighed Molly Weasley, “but I suppose that is the first place they’d look.”

“Indeed,” agreed Dumbledore. “The problem has already been resolved, however, as Professor Snape has agreed to take Harry with him for the rest of the holidays.”

While the Order members’ faces betrayed only surprise and a certain understanding, the same could not be said of the two adolescents.

“No!” shouted Ron before flushing violently. Hermione had said nothing, but her expression clearly showed that she thought no differently. “No,” repeated Ron more calmly. “You can’t do that to Harry! Not after everything that’s happened during the holidays! Surely there must be another solution, Hogwarts, I don’t know...”

“Harry will be perfectly safe with Professor Snape,” replied Dumbledore. “He would even be the best to care for and protect him, should the need arise. It is true that Harry’s holidays have been very eventful, that is why he now needs rest and safety, as well as a few Animagus lessons. I think that you would agree with me on this, Mr Weasley?”

Ron murmured something incomprehensible.

“Will we be able to see him?” asked Hermione.

“His place of residence will be protected by the Fidelius charm,” replied Dumbledore. “Depending on how things turn out, we will see if it is reasonable for Harry to leave to see the two of you.”

He turned to Harry. “I'm sorry, Harry, I know that these aren't the holidays you had hoped for, but I am sure that you understand your safety is paramount?”

The cat miaowed its agreement.

But Ron hadn’t finished. Taking a deep breath, he seized his courage with both hands. “Listen, I know you want to do what's best for Harry, but honestly... Harry hates Snape and, er... I think that everyone knows that Harry isn’t, erm, Professor Snape’s favourite student. There must be another solution!”

He exhaled sharply, as though he had just finished a particularly long and difficult race. He looked at Hermione out of the corner of his eye and saw that she was watching and smiling at him almost... proudly? He instantly felt better. “In short, I don’t think this is a very good idea,” he concluded, breathing in once again.

Molly Weasley seemed on the verge of saying something, but Dumbledore stopped her with a raised hand. As was usually the case, the adults seemed amused rather than indignant at Ron's little outburst, Ron was slightly disappointed to realize.

It was Snape who answered him, in a much calmer tone than he'd expected. “I was able to abide Mr Potter’s presence in my rooms for two weeks. I think I can do so again without being overly tempted to send him to the Dark Lord or force him to eat cat food. Although, the latter, of course, would be at his discretion.”

At these words, Harry jumped off the chair and went without hesitation towards the Potions master. He looked at him for a moment before blinking his eyes and sitting on his paws, then turned toward his two friends.

The priceless look on Ron and Hermione’s faces when he miaowed with determination would make him laugh for months afterward whenever he thought about it. Eyes wide, mouths hanging open, it was clear that they couldn’t believe their eyes. Harry could hear Snape laugh sofly beside him. It seemed that this memorable sight would stay with him as well.

“Albus,” the Potions master said finally, “given the circumstances, I think it would be preferable to sort out the Fidelius problem as soon as possible so that Potter can be kept safe.”

“A wise idea, of course. It will only take a moment. Molly, Harry’s things are in his room, could you bring them down so they are ready when I return?”

Molly headed for the landing while Snape and Dumbledore Apparated. To the Manor, Harry thought to himself... He was going to go back to Snape’s house.

Two more weeks there... The first two had been perfect in his opinion. Snape had been friendly, kind even, and had taken very good care of him. But he hadn't really known then who he really was, and when he had found out, his reaction hadn’t been the most positive...

Had the man really agreed to take him back or had Dumbledore forced him? How was he going to act around him now? He had called him Harry... but that didn’t mean anything, did it?

He rejoined Ron and Hermione on the armchair. It was almost certain this time that he wasn't going to see them again this summer... The idea was a little depressing; he had hoped to stay at the Burrow for a bit and have a few days of proper holiday.

But, Dumbledore was right, he would be safe at Snape Manor, and more than anything... he wanted to go back there. He'd thought he’d never see the dungeon again, the fireplace and the armchair where he had spent all his nights listening to the sound ofclinking vials and mixtures bubbling in cauldrons. He had felt safer during those few days than at Hogwarts and more at home than he had ever been at the Dursleys. That he could consider Snape’s quarters as ‘home’ was especially troubling... but Snape had transfigured an armchair for him, had given him a name, a jumper... He hadn’t contented himself with begrudgingly taking him in.

He had offered him a place to stay. He had adopted him. Come to think of it, he had never seen the professor with a pet; the idea of the Potions master stroking an animal was, in itself, very strange. And yet...

He would have truly liked to be Shadow. Just Shadow... a cat with no prophecy, no power, but who had a home, a master and no worries apart from when he’d get his next bowl of food.

The idea of a bowl of food made his stomach rumble. He was hungry and his cuts were prickling his skin...of course Snape was going to take care of them in a moment, as he had promised.

Evidently, things weren't going all that well.

He tried to chase away this notion by turning to Ron and Hermione. The disappointment was clear on their faces.

“Harry, we won’t get to see you this summer!” lamented Hermione. “Term starts in two weeks, fortunately. You mustn't worry, I’m sure Dumbledore will find a solution.”

“And we can catch up at Hogwarts,” Ron chimed in. “I’ve already got loads of ideas on what we can do with your new form... We can talk about it again when we get back to school, but just think! Think about the Slytherin dorms!”

Hermione shook her head but didn’t protest. “Harry, if there’s a problem with, you know... Professor Snape, or anything else. Don’t forget that we’re here. If the bracelet could make you Apparate you once, perhaps it can do it again!”

Indeed, thought Harry, there were a lot of things to tell them the next time he saw them in his human form.

“And above all, don’t do anything that could annoy him. Try to stay... a good cat,” Hermione said with a smile. “I think he likes you, you know, in this form in any case. But... you be careful... that’s all,” she finished.

Harry was fully decided to do that. He rested a black paw on the young girl’s face before turning to miaow at Ron. He didn’t really know what he would have wanted to say if he’d been able, but his cat form solved the problem.

His two friends smiled.

“You know, I think that it’ll take a bit to get used to this,” admitted Hermione.

“But it’s great!” added Ron enthusiastically.

Mrs Weasley had come back down and put Harry’s trunk in the middle of the lounge. “Harry dear, I’ve put all your things in your trunk and added some supplies. Not that I doubt Professor Snape’s competence when it come to cooking, but all the same, you should remind him that fish does not constitute a balanced diet! You need to regain your strength…and some weight!”

Harry jumped onto the trunk and miaowed softly at her in thanks. Her face softened.

“Oh Harry, I'd so much wanted you to be able to spend some time at the Burrow… you will behave for the professor, won’t you?” she asked.

Harry was annoyed. He wasn’t a child and so why did they all have to say that to him? It wasn’t as though he continually went at it with Snape; they should have rather said it to the professor.

“He takes your safety very seriously, you know,” Molly Weasley added.

Yes, he knew it. And he had no intention of making things difficult for him; he thought he’d made that abundantly clear by going to the professor.

Mrs Weasley gave him a smile that melted his irritation; yes, he too would have liked to spend some time at the Burrow and enjoy Molly’s kindness and delicious cooking. Sometimes he even felt almost as though he had a family, surrounded by Mr and Mrs Weasley and their children.

Hogwarts was a bit like his home and the Weasleys were a bit like his family… The Dursleys had never really been his family, though he had thought they were when he was younger. A family who had probably just concluded an agreement with Voldemort to get rid of him. He really wasn’t too sure anymore where he belonged. His real family was dead and the only place he could really call his home at the moment was, if he had understood correctly, this house. The house that Sirirus had hated and where he'd been unhappy; Sirirus, whose death was his fault...

He suddenly felt relieved at the prospect of spending the coming weeks with Snape: the professor would surely give him a quiet sanctuary where he wouldn’t have to think about all these things. He fully intended to sleep, sleep and sleep some more, as much as one could with Voldemort, the Dursleys and everything that went with them. He was going to roll into a ball next to the fire and not move away from itfor two weeks.

Snape and Dumbledore returned a few moments later, obviously satisfied. The Potions professor seemed more tired now; not surprising, thought Harry, when one knew that only a few hours before he’d been unconscious and incapable of stringing more than two words together.

“The formalities have been taken care of,” announced Dumbledore. “Harry, do you wish to say anything before you leave? I am sorry to cut short your reunion with your friends, but the situation is particularly delicate and we would all be happier knowing that you are safe.”

Harry thought he would've had a million things to say…but cats didn't talk. Without hesitation, he jumped onto the trunk and took a final look at his friends. They seemed disappointed, but they waved good bye to him .

“‘Til the start of term, Harry, or perhaps before. Take care yourself!”

For his part, Snape nodded goodbye to the Order members and reached down to pick up the cat, in a way they suspected had become familiar to the two of them.

A moment later, the room disappeared in a whirl of darkness and Harry recognised the telltale smell of the dungeons, a mixture of wood smoke and acrid potions.

Snape put him down again on the trunk which had Apparated with them, and stretched, clearly relieved to be back at the Manor. Harry was surprised to feel the same sentiment and the same need to relax the muscles taut from the pervasive tension of Grimmauld Place.

“Well, Mr Potter, I shall show you to your rooms, but first we're going to deal with the matter of your injuries. Given that dinner isn’t for another two hours, I think you could very well do with a snack.”

The professor took a pot of salve that Harry recognised instantly: it was one he'd used on him before. And now that he thought about it, he had used it himself over the last few days… But why, then, did he need to do it again? How had the wounds reappeared?

Snape seemed to understand his confusion because he answered the questions Harry hadn’t been able to put into words. “It seems that your transformations cause certain problems. Perhaps you do not recall, but when we forced you to resume your human form at Grimmauld Place, your wounds reappeared without our knowing why. It's probably linked to the problems you have with assimilating your two forms… whatever it is exactly, we should be careful. We'll see about transforming you back this evening to ensure that it doesn’t happen again.”

Harry wasn’t at all sure he wanted to transform back, but didn’t let it show. He was feeling silly enough as it was… yes, he really had believed he was a cat and, yes, he'd had trouble facing his adolescent memories. Something told him that now he was also going to have trouble facing his cat memories...

“Potter, jump up on the table and try not to knock anything over,” the Potions master asked.

Potter. No, that wouldn’t do. If he was going to spend two more weeks here, he refused to be treated like he was at Hogwarts during the school year! He didn’t move and stared challengingly at the professor.

The latter got the message and rolled his eyes. “Very well. I suppose that I only have myself to blame… Harry, then, on the table, if you want me to take care with your wounds.”

Satisfied, the cat leapt smoothly. The Potions master, however, seemed annoyed.

“Harry, did someone give you a pain reducing potion?” he asked.

The cat blinked in response. Yes, Moody had made him drink a particularly strong potion that had quickly made all the pain disappear from his body. The cuts stung, but they didn’t really hurt.

Snape sighed. “Listen, Harry, the cuts aren’t the only problem. You also have a broken arm and rib. The rib should have healed quickly, but... unfortunately your arm, or rather your paw, as things are now, has not healed properly. I am going to have to rebreak it to set it correctly. After that, you’ll have to be careful with it for a while; that’s why you will need to remain in human form so that you don’t put weight on it. I'll do it in such a way that it won'thurt, but you really will have to be careful,” he said.

Harry suddenly felt depressed. A broken arm and rib? How? When? He knew where all the cuts had come from, but...oh.

Uncle Vernon. He vaguely remembered having slid to the floor, half-conscious, and that Vernon had continued to hit him... He winced. A kick. Well then, he supposed he knew ‘how’ now.

Strangely, this memory hurt him more than the idea that they wanted to get send him to Voldemort. His uncle hated him so much that he had kicked him repeatedly while he was on the ground, all the while continuing to insult him... and Petunia had been there, downstairs, and hadn’t said anything. They'd not only sought for another wizard to kill him, they had almost managed to do the job themselves.

He now felt slightly sick. He folded his paws underneath himself and lay down on the table.

Snape didn’t say a word, but the hands that began to apply the salve were particularly gentle and light of touch as they massaged his injuries, as if he want to try to comfort him.

And in a way, it worked. At least someone was concerned with taking care of him and not wanting to hurt him...

When Snape had finished spreading the salve on, he went without a word to find the cat’s bowl, and filled it with fish. Harry jumped to the ground and rushed towards it with as much dignity as his stomach would allow.

He heard the professor laugh quietly behind him. “I see that no one at Grimmauld Place followed my advice. I assure you that Molly Weasley lectured me soundly on the fact that an adolescent should not just eat fish. A complete meal will be served in two hours, but for now I will indulge this professed penchant for sardines in oil.”

Snape went to the armoire and pulled out a few bottles. The day was still far from over...

The effect of the potions Snape had ingested earlier was starting to wear off; he should have known, as the potions in question worked miracles, but they couldn’t work fully on someone who took them and manipulated them so frequently.

It would be best for Harry to sleep deeply through the night, because he himself would probably be in no condition to keep an eye on him if he decided to go wandering around the Manor. He quickly swallowed two potions and turned towards the cat who was licking his chops.

“Good. I suppose it is time to show you your rooms and the rest of the Manor, for as much as that will interest you. It’s also time to resume your human form, Harry.” He was definitely going to have trouble getting used to speaking to Harry informally, he thought. Be that as it may, it would have to stop at the start of term.

The cat watched him, seeming lost and ill at ease. From all appearances, he didn’t have the faintest idea of how to proceed.

“It isn’t a difficult technique to assimilate, but nevertheless, it is necessary to understand how it works. It is basically grounded in the will. We will have time to go more deeply into it in the next two weeks, but you have already managed to transform several times on your own. Let’s see what you can do,” said the Potions master.

Harry knew he had done it before...but he hadn’t thought while he was doing it and at that precise moment, he had neither the desire nor the faintest idea how to proceed. He tried to visualise a brown-haired adolescent, then closed his eyes...

Nothing.

He glanced apologetically at the professor.

Snape sighed. "Very well, we'll have more time for this tomorrow. Is that your final word, Harry?"

The cat blinked.

Snape pointed his wand at him. “Animagus revelio.”

The moment after, Harry felt his body rapidly transform. He had still never had the chance to approach the change calmly enough to pay attention to it, and he had to admit that the feeling was very strange. Not only did his body change in appearance, but he also felt his mind connect to a different frequency, with more subtleties, more nuances...

But when he found himself on two feet, he had to admit that it was not as unsettling as the first few times. He had all his memories, cat and human, and he knew who he was and what had happened to him. He even managed to keep his balance, more or less, and offered Snape a hesitant smile.

He was surprised to see the professor nod in approval. His expression, though, remained sombre.

Snape was relieved to see that the boy’s wounds had not started to bleed again. It would seem that it'd been the shock of the first transformation that had caused them to reopen. But, Merlin, the boy was terribly thin and his blood-soaked clothes made him look as though he'd come straight out of a dungeon of Death Eaters.

“Harry?” he asked.

“Yes? Oh, er, I’m all right. I think,” replied the boy. “It’s a bit strange to change bodies, though I suppose I should be used to this one,” he said with a small forced laugh.

“The superficial wounds seem to be under control for the moment. We'll look at the others later, if they aren’t causing you any pain now?”

“No. Moody gave me something really strong, judging by the taste... but I think that a shower would do me good, if that’s possible. And, er, I had better change,” he added, looking at his clothes.

Snape murmured a quick spell in the direction of the trunk, which disappeared with a “pop.”

“Oh, just one thing,” the boy added, “I promise I’ll listen to everything you say, but… I don’t have my glasses anymore, so I can’t be sure I’ll catch everything right. My eyesight is really terrible,” he apologised.

Snape frowned. The boy didn’t know what had happened to his glasses… well, it was for the best. There was no point reminding him how dreadfully shameful his family was. He took something out of his pocket and held it towards the boy, who squinted to try to see it better. His face brightened.

“You found them!” he exclaimed, putting on his glasses, a big smile on his face. It was great to see again!

“Actually, the headmaster took the liberty of ordering you a new pair. The old ones have disappeared, and these will adapt automatically to your vision.”

The boy smiled as he nodded. ”In fact,I think I can see the difference already. It’s strange, when I’m in my Animagus form, my eyesight is much better. I had almost forgotten how bad it really was!”

“Cats see much better than we do. You probably don’t see well for a cat, but that would be very adequate for a human,” explained the professor. “Shall we begin?”

The boy replied with a nod of his head.

“Very well. No need to show you my laboratory, I assume?” Snape asked ironically while the boy looked around, clearly embarrassed. Yes, not much point…

“Normally, I would forbid access, but I suppose that won’t be necessary. So, you will be able come in here as long as you don’t touch anything, as I believe you have a habit of doing.”

Harry cleared his throat but didn’t say anything.

Snape opened the heavy wooden door and the boy followed him. They climbed up a stone staircase that led straight into a wide corridor. The Potions master gestured towards the first door.

“My room. In an emergency you must not hesitate to disturb me, but my quarters are off-limits the rest of the time, just to be clear.”

Harry nodded. The idea of skulking around the tyrannical Potions professor's bedroom was at once terrifying and very tempting…

But the Potions master had already moved on, pointing to the door opposite the last one, on the other side of the corridor. “You will stay here.” He opened the door.

Curious, Harry took a few steps in and found himself in a plainly furnished room, the window with wide-open curtains showing a view of the grounds. The bed was made and his trunk was waiting in the corner of the room. He could also see that some paper and a few books had been placed on the desk. Had Snape prepared the room for him? The idea was strangely…well, both comforting and embarrassing. He noted a second door at the back of the room. The professor answered his question before he had time to ask it.

“There is an en suite bathroom. Should you need it, the laundry is the door to the side.” Without losing any more time, the professor went out again. Harry left the room reluctantly; he’d as of yet never had the chance to stay in such a spacious and comfortable room… and it'd been quite a while since he'd been able to wash himself.

Snape continued by showing him the sitting room, dining room, library and, to finish, the front door which, surprisingly, he had yet to use.

“There we go. You already know the grounds, I believe. Questions?” asked Snape.

“Er, yes… if it’s not too indiscreet, are there house-elves in the Manor?”

The professor pursed his lips. “Certainly not.”

Harry wondered for an instant if Hermione hadn’t just found a new member for SPEW, but Snape made quick work of dispelling his illusions. “You see how sorry I am, Potter, but you will have to clean your own room and put up with my cooking.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Harry said defensively, “It’s just…the Manor reminded me of Grimmauld Place or, I don’t know, Malfoy Manor. I imagine it must be difficult to keep up…”

The Potions master relaxed slightly. “The example of Grimmauld Place and your friend Dobby should suffice to convince you that these creatures are not reliable. A spy certainly cannot allow himself to take this sort of risk,” he replied more calmly.

The memory of Kreacher and Sirius hit Harry full-force and he felt himself growing angry. Oh yes, he understood the Potions master perfectly.

“Besides,” the latter continued, “the Manor was built recently, unlike those you mentioned. It is not a family estate.”

This last remark awakened Harry's curiosity, but he didn’t dare ask. He didn’t want to alienate Snape by being indiscreet…

“Anything else?” asked the professor.

“No, it's fine. Thanks,” replied the boy.

“Good. Dinner will be ready in two hours, in the dining room. If you need me, I will be in the laboratory.” With a wave of the hand he signald to the boy that he had the run of the house, before heading back for the stone staircase again.

Harry felt strangely frustrated, seeing the professor head to the dungeon. Yes, he really wanted a good shower and was very happy about the bedroom, but this part of the Manor was unknown to him and he felt slightly ill at ease there. One would've said that these rooms were rarely used, much less lived in. He would rather have gone back down to the laboratory as well.

Thinking hard about it, he couldn’t exactly recall having seen Snape leave the dungeon during the weeks he'd spent here. He went up only to sleep and rarely to eat—always a quick bite-- in the laboratory. Why then did Snape live here if he hadn't inherited it? Because that was what he'd seemed to mean. The Manor wasn’t as big as he had thought it was when he was a cat, but it was sufficient to comfortably house a large family. The Potions master had not seen fit to tell him what was hidden behind certain doors, and he didn't doubt that many rooms were in fact empty. But for now, he felt exhausted and really dirty; he slid delightedly under the hot water jet in the little bathroom.

He carefully felt his arm for the fracture. It wasn’t hard to find: near his shoulder the bone was at a strange angle… He winced. He should have noticed it earlier…

Didn't matter. Snape would take care of it.

The hot water running over him relaxed his muscles and made him strangely sleepy. The emotions of the day had worn him out, just as much as the transformations. Even if they appeared less trying to him now, it seemed as though they drained his energy very quickly, especially when they were precipitated by magic.

He closed his eyes and lost himself in the sensation of warmth. He would have liked to be in an armchair down below, curled in a ball next to the fire. Before he had time to react, he felt himself suddenly shrink and change.

Oh no, no, he mustn't, not now! He opened his eyes wide in a desperate attempt to stop the transformation. In vain.

The moment after, a rather miserable black cat escaped from the bathroom, its fur soaked and its tail drooping.

Well, all right, so, he was starting get an inkling of how these Animagus transformations worked. And now, he really, really wanted to transform back into a human before Snape noticed and yelled at him! Even so, he couldn’t take points from Gryffindor during the holidays, could he?

He tried with all his might to return himself to his original form, but ten minutes later, there was still a soaking wet black cat dripping onto the bedroom carpet .

And on top of that, he was really starting to feel cold.

He sighed. It would be better to go to Snape now than to leave the surprise until suppertime.

Still fortunate, he thought, that the door to the laboratory was at the foot of the stairs. But, bloody hell, he hated going down steps.

Once at the bottom he started to miaow weakly… it wouldn’t do to make the Potions master jump in the middle of a preparation. A few moments later, the door opened to a rather resigned-looking Snape. "I suppose I should've expected it," he said as he stepped aside to allow him in.

“So, I can't leave you alone for five minutes without you finding a way to put yourself in an impossible situation?”

The cat looked at him, half-contrite, half-defiant. After all, he wasn’t the one who'd found himself imprisoned at a stupid Death Eater meeting. In comparison, finding himself temporarily trapped in his cat form didn't seem like the end of the world.

Snape looked at the slightly trembling cat. He seemed exhausted and it reminded him terribly of Shadow in those first days …

Remembering the broken paw, the Potions master decided it would be better not to take any risks. He threw a towel onto the second armchair, grabbed the cat and put it on the towel, without further ado.

“Ready, Shadow, you stupid alley cat?”

They both jumped. No, the professor hadn’t wanted to use that name…it had slipped out and he already regretted it. Calling the boy by his first name was one thing, but to go back to the ridiculous name he had given him…

He groaned. Enough nonsense. “Animagus revelio!”

From the expression on the boy’s face as he sat in the armchair, it was clear that the use of his cat name had shaken him as well. He suddenly remembered why the second armchair was there, the way he liked to curl up against Snape’s shoulder and…

His hand felt the towel on which he was sitting. Snape followed his gaze and the boy knew immediately that they were thinking about the same thing. The shower under the gutter, being dried on the professor’s knees.

“Potter, if you even think about saying a single word, I swear I will throw you head first into the chimney without the benefit of Floo powder!” snapped Snape.

Harry made a small strangled sound, before jumping abruptly up from the armchair.

“And go and brush your teeth, your breath reeks of sardines!”

The boy didn’t need to be told twice and hurtled out of the laboratory, taking the stairs two at a time, his heart racing. Oh, Merlin. He was never going to be able to look the professor in the eye. Finding himself on Snape’s knees, being gently dried with a towel… and he had started to purr, he was almost certain…

He was going to shut himself in his room and pretend to be asleep when Snape called him for dinner. If he called him at all.

Of course, he could have laughed about it, but it was obvious that the Potions master didn’t find the episode particularly comical, anyway. He had to admit that, at the time, he hadn’t found it that unpleasant, far from it...

Hands gently rubbing with a soft towel to dry him, he'd had the impression of being….what exactly? A child being dried gently after a bath. Yes, that was it exactly. But that had never really happened to him, had it? Not before Snape.

Merlin. It was even worse than he thought. He opened his trunk and searched feverishly for some clean clothes. He quickly threw his wet ones into the laundry basket in the bathroom and threw himself, exhausted, onto the bed. If he could only disappear under the covers and make the world forget about him…

If only he could just be a cat, who allowed himself to be dried and carried…

With these thoughts, sleep overtook him and he fell asleep with his head buried in the pillows.

Dreaming about cats and potions…

Somewhere in his dream, he heard muffled knocking, and perhaps someone calling his first name, It wasn’t Ron, the voice was male, but more serious… His dad, perhaps…but he didn’t know what his voice sounded like and this one was familiar… no, not exactly familiar…

He felt a hand gently shake his shoulder and awoke with a start.

"Harry? Are you all right ?"

Snape. It took a moment for the boy to remember where he was and what he was doing there.

"I’m fine," he responded automatically.

"I did not mean to wake you," the professor explained. He seemed worried… That's what was unusual in his voice, Harry told himself.

"I’m sorry," he repeated, but he meant it this time, “I fell asleep. I don’t think I really heard when you called me."

Snape nodded. "It has been a trying day. If you feel ready, dinner is served."

The Potions master watched as Harry slowly stood, worry lingering in his eyes. The boy was weak - it would be best to wait until the next day to take care of his arm… He himself would have a clearer idea of how to proceed with that delicate intervention. It was a good thing that the boy was tired, as Snape was dying to sleep and would feel much better if he knew the boy was sound asleep.

Dinner passed in silence. To Harry’s surprise, the meal was really good. Although, as was a Potions master, that shouldn't have surprised him. He had never seen the man cook before, though, before the time in the dungeon. Probably because he lacked the time. He suddenly felt slightly guilty.

"Professor… if it doesn't bother you, I could take care of the meals. I know how to cook well," he added.

Snape frowned. "You don't like my cooking, Potter?"

"Yes, of course I do!" he hastened to reply. "I haven’t eaten this well since the beginning of the holidays, honest! It’s just that… I thought that you had other things to do. I really don't manage things all that badly, you know."

The professor slowly nodded. "Well. I suppose that we can take turns. There is no need to arise on schedule tomorrow morning; I think we both need extra sleep. You could cook breakfast if you are the first one awake. You will find whatever you need in the kitchen."

Harry nodded and dipped once more into his plate. He had no desire to ruin his first meal…a question of honor!.

When they had finished dinner, Harry expected Snape to want to take care of his fracture as he’d mentioned earlier, but the man no longer seemed to intend to do it. With a flick of his wand, all the dishes vanished, and then he stood.

"Do you need anything before bed? A potion?" he asked the boy.

"No, thank you. Um, what about my arm…?"

Snape tilted his head to the side. "That is for you to decide. I thought that we were both sufficiently tired after today, and that it would be best to put it off until tomorrow, but if you wish for us to fix this problem tonight, we can take care of it immediately."

"No," the boy quickly replied, "I prefer the first solution too. It doesn’t hurt right now and I think I’ve had enough strong emotions for the day."

He hesitated for an instant.

"I… I wanted to thank you, for all that you're doing for me. I know that you don’t really like me much and… well, I assure you that I'll do my best not to disturb you. Just tell me what I must do."

Snape gave him a strange look.

"For the moment, sleep. And in the second attempt, learn to better control your transformations and avoid the particularly dangerous and idiotic situations in which you routinely find yourself," he replied. "Whether in your cat or human form, I would like you to remember that it's out of the question to ever go beyond the Manor boundaries. That would be excessively dangerous for everyone. The Manor is watched very closely."

"I don't go looking for trouble, it's trouble that finds me," Harry defended himself. “And I don’t have any intention of leaving the Manor. I- I'm happy here."

Harry felt himself flush furiously. When he looked up, he saw Snape's black eyes staring at him, his face inscrutable.

"All the better. The Dark Lord is unaware of your new Animagus capabilities, and that must continue as long as possible. In any case, practicing transforming and preparing for the return to Hogwarts should be sufficient to occupy the remainder of your holiday."

Harry grimaced. As for the time for quiet hols by the fire…he should've suspected.

Snape rose from his chair and the boy followed suit. Both headed for their rooms, their steps echoing in the large corridor.

"If you need anything... You will find Dreamless Sleep potion and others for pain in the bedside table. Their names and dosage are marked on the bottles. Don't hesitate to use them. I'll be in my room or the laboratory if you have a problem. A genuine problem," he concluded, wrinkling his brow at the boy. He did not intend to be disturbed for a glass of water or an untimely transformation, not tonight.

The boy smiled at him, his green eyes boring into his own, Lily’s eyes, soft and determined…

"I’m sure I’ll be fine. I only want one thing: to sleep for the next two weeks. Thanks a lot, Professor. Really," Harry said, without blushing this time[.] He really had to let the man how much he appreciated being able to sleep in safety here.

Snape nodded. "Good night."

"Good night, Professor."

The two doors closed on their occupants and silence fell over the Manor.

A part of Harry would've liked to collapse on the bed and to go to sleep there, fully dressed, until sleep was done with him. But this was his first night at the Manor… officially. He moved towards the window to shut the large curtains; he didn’t want to be awakened by the sun tomorrow morning. It was nighttime now, but he could just see the silhouettes of the trees beneath the moonlight. The estate grounds… it would be strange to take a walk out there in his normal form.

He pulled the curtains closed. Everything was going to be weird… and even better if Snape was too. This first evening hadn't gone all that badly, all things considered. Their conversation had remained polite as a whole. And Snape had called him Shadow! It seemed to him that his heart had stopped beating.

Could the Man in Black still think of him as "his" cat? Hi didn’t seem to hate him as much anymore… even if the towel episode had been especially embarrassing…

They were both completely exhausted tonight. Tomorrow things would be different again.

Harry searched his trunk for his pajamas. His hand bumped into a box he didn’t remember having put there: the twins’ gift. He smiled – it would be best to wait for Hogwarts to open that one! He doubted Snape’s sense of humor would appreciate this kind of joke. Far from it.

With a sigh of contentment, he slipped under the covers. The bed was soft, comfortable… definitely an improvement compared to his room at the Dursleys’.

He felt his heart constrict at the thought. No, he would never again return to Privet Drive. They definitely did not want anymore to do with him. In fact, they clearly wished for his death. All that because of Marge… really? Was there something to it, could he have somehow caused her death?

Dumbledore had not seemed very optimistic about this thing with the Ministry… Perhaps he'd have to see the Dursleys again after all. But Dumbledore would not let them take him and hand him over to Voldemort, of that he was sure.

But if he didn't have a choice? What the Dark Lord had done to Snape would be a joke in comparison to what he would do to him if he managed to at last get ahold of him. Voldemort certainly wouldn't be content with just killing him…

Snape… he had rarely seen the man as tired as he’d been tonight. All his features had been strained and he’d delayed repairing his arm until tomorrow. That wasn't like him. And Snape was going to have to re-break his arm. That was certainly not going to be a walk in the park...

Sleep finally managed to get the best of his thoughts, and he sank into a dream where Snape had to finally re-break all his bones, and contrary to what he’d said, it was painful. Vernon was firmly holding him down, laughing coarsely, as he assured Snape that he also needed to crack his skull into order to show his support.

It was Voldemort who had the last word, assuring them that a Cruciatus curse would have a much better effect and then proving it.

In the end, Snape was no longer in agreement with them about damaging his cat; it would put hair everywhere and ruin his potions. Vernon advised him to drown it, but Snape didn't want to. Voldemort also wanted to have him, but Snape wouldn't budge. Finally, the furious Dark Lord decided to break the Professor’s bones in the cat’s place.

If Severus had counted on getting a good night’s sleep, he was quickly disappointed. It seemed as if he had scarcely gone to sleep when cries from the other side of the hall woke him.

He swore under his breath: Harry…

Wand in hand, he leapt from his bed and in a few strides he was in the boy's room, ready to face Death Eaters, or worse, Voldemort in person.

With a flick of his wand, he opened the curtains wide, and moonlight filled the room.

But Harry was alone and nothing was moving except the boy himself, screaming as he struggled violently in his bed.

Snape sighed: a nightmare. He supposed that he could hardly hold him resonsible after the day he'd had. He should have been more insistent about the Dreamless Sleep .

Anyway, the nightmare had to be frightening, as the boy seemed to be truly suffering.

"Harry, wake up," he called gently.

The boy moaned but didn’t wake.

"Harry! It’s a dream, everything is fine, you're safe!"

Again, no reaction. His face contorted, the boy gound his teeth in his sleep, before letting loose another agonizing cry.

This time Snape grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him as gently as he could. Just as well, as the boy jumped and literally threw himself out of reach to the other end of the bed. Hunched up, arms covering his face, he didn’t even look at the man standing at his side.

"Sorry! Sorry, Uncle Vernon, I didn’t do it on purpose. I won’t do it again! I’m sorry! Sorry!"

Snape shook his head. The pitiful voice suddenly reminded him how very young Harry was. Maybe Snape hadn't given enough of a lesson to that bloody Muggle after all.

"Harry, everything is fine, you are not at Privet Drive anymore, you are at Snape Manor and you're not in danger. It was a nightmare," he said in the soothing voice used with Shadow.

The boy’s breathing didn't calm, but at least he stopped his long litany of apologies. Or he nearly did…

"I'm sorry," he said hesitantly, half-aware this time.

"Harry, please look at me," said Potions master firmly.

Slowly, the boy lowered his arms and blinked at him.

"I have no intention of hurting you. I am here to protect you, and no one will be able to reach you here. Everything's fine." Snape felt rather ridiculous, but the boy was truly distressed. Were his nightmares always so violent?

The boy seemed to regain consciousness little by little, but his eyes were still confused.

"I’m sorry. For everything."

"Sorry? For what, Harry?" Snape inquired, intrigued.

"For all the deaths. For what Voldemort did to you. Everything." His voice was choppy and hoarse. Close to tears, the Potions master thought.

"You are not responsible for the death of your aunt, Harry. It's only a terribly hurtful and cruel excuse your family found to throw you out…"

"Not just her. Sirius and my parents… Cedric."

"Harry, you cannot feel responsible for all the deaths that occur and will continue to occur around you. Sirius and your parents knew the risks. They all made their own choices, and you cannot not offend them by denying them their courage. Voldemort was the cause and the originator of these deaths, and no one would ever think to reproach you for them. The same goes for me. I have chosen my position and have accepted the risks. You have nothing to do with either my choices or their consequences," Snape calmly said.

"If I wasn't there… nothing would have happened."

"True. There would have been many more deaths, much more horror, and as for myself, I would, in all likelihood, have been long since dead. Certain things were inevitable and horrible… but that doesn't mean they weren't worth it, in a way."

Snape was not sure that the boy understood, but he had to try. This child could not live and struggle with such a huge weight of guilt.

"It was still my fault,” the boy murmured. His breathing was calmer, now but he seemed at the end of his strength.

"How is that?" Snape questioned softly.

"I bring bad luck to everyone around me," the boy replied with a sob in his voice..

Here we have it, thought the Potions master. What could he say to that? He moved closer to the boy who didn't try to flee this time.

"That's ridiculous, Harry," he said. "You're not responsible for everything that happens."

The boy sniffed. "Black cats bring bad luck, everyone knows that," he said bitterly.

In the moonlight, Snape could see the tears running down the boy’s cheeks.

The gesture came to him almost naturally. Fatigue, he thought later.

Wrapping an arm around the boy’s shoulders, he started to stroke his hair as he would have done with Shadow.

"I would not want a cat of any other colour," he murmured.

Exhaustion probably got the best of the boy as well, because the moment after his head rested against his professor's chest, Snape could feel his trembling ease.

Several minutes later, his breathing was regular and Snape knew he'd dropped back to sleep.

Damn it, he probably wasn't going to sleep in his bed again that night.

But, strangely, he felt calmer and more at peace than he'd been in a long time, his hand caressing the brown hair of the boy sleeping against him.