Harry was sitting on the couch, right in the corner where the padded arm met the back. His arm was hooked over Ginny's shoulder and she was sitting side-on to him with her legs stretched along the length of the couch. Ginny was reading a paperback book and playing with Harry's fingers.

Harry was supposed to be watching Ron and Hermione playing Wizard's Chess but in actual fact, he was fiddling with a lock of Ginny's red hair, watching as the light caught it and refracted into half a dozen different colours. The Weasley red was such an amazing colour...especially on Ginny. But Ginny was gorgeous from the top of her head to the tips of her cute little toes.

"Check and mate! Hah!" crowed Ron. Harry and Ginny looked across to see Hermione looking more than slightly peeved. She was sitting back with her arms crossed, glowering at Ron as he reset the board. She hated being outdone at anything by anyone. It did not matter that she had never been interested in chess before meeting Ron; she could beat him at anything (except flying and Quidditch and she didn't care about them), so she thought that because chess was such a cerebral game, she should be able to beat him at that as well.

Harry smirked and kissed the top of Ginny's head. She put her head back and smiled upside down at him, and unable to resist, Harry leaned forward and kissed the tip of her nose as well. Satisfied, Ginny went back to her book and Harry resumed his relaxed position, idly watching Ron place the grumpy black pieces back in position. Ron was explaining his last winning strategy to Hermione and she was trying to look interested as opposed to resentful.

Harry continued to gaze at his two best friends, without really seeing them, and though his fingers had recommenced their tactile exploration of Ginny's hair, he wasn't really paying attention to its silky softness either; his thoughts were a long way away at Hogwarts. He was wondering exactly what his father was doing at the moment, and if he had spared a thought for him at all during the last two days.

Pig should have arrived with his letter by now but when Harry thought about what he had written and about Snape reading those words, he wanted to curl up in a hole and never come out again. Had he sounded like a pathetic, needy pillock, or what? His dad was going to think that was exactly what he was. It had obviously not worried him being separated from Harry. Why would it? It wasn't as if Snape was in the habit of thinking about Harry over the summer hols for the last four years after all.

Harry sighed and Ginny looked upside down at him again. "What's wrong?" she mouthed.

Harry smiled and shook his head. Ginny raised her eyebrows sceptically but she let it go and went back to her book, squirming closer to him. Harry's lips tautened. He was doing it again, wasn't he? He was thinking negatively again. Snape had said that they needed time apart for Harry to decide how much of an effort he was willing to put into their relationship. And here was proof that he needed that time!

Harry still found it difficult to believe that he and Snape could ever have found  common ground. The circumstances of their bizarre relationship still did Harry's head in whenever he thought about it.

Two fathers! He had two fathers. Two biological fathers. Wasn't he a big enough freak considering his past history without the ignominy of having two biological fathers.

It seemed not, because the facts were the facts. Why would Snape even think about claiming him as a son if the whole thing was a lie? It wasn't just an elaborate ruse. What would have been the point? Snape wasn't a Death Eater. He was a spy and Dumbledore trusted him implicitly. And if he had been a Death Eater, he had already had plenty of opportunities to hand Harry over the Voldemort.

But he hadn't done that. Even before their relationship had come to light, Snape had always protected him. Even while he had hated Harry, Snape had still protected him; he had saved his life more than once.

And look at the reward Snape had gotten for his last effort at saving Harry's life; he had actually found himself stuck with Harry in a way that neither of them would ever have envisioned even a month ago.

A month was a long time. Harry felt as though his emotions had been in turmoil for longer than just a month. Well, they had, hadn't they? He shut his eyes as painful memories washed over him. Those memories hurt...they hurt a lot!  

A little over a month ago, he had lost his godfather, but because of everything that had happened since term had ended, Sirius had been pushed right to the back of his mind. Harry had actually not thought about him at all for days at a time.

When Sirius had died, Harry had been totally devastated; he had been convinced that he would never get over it. He had just lost the man whom he had secretly hoped would take over the job that his first dad had been unable to fulfil. But because of his monumental idiocy, that was now never going to happen.

Harry still missed Sirius. He would always miss him, but he couldn't imagine ever being able to talk about that to Snape. Snape would be happy if he never heard Sirius's name mentioned again. It was true that Harry had never seen any overt signs of triumph from Snape after Sirius's demise; he had never gloated. Not even before Harry's poisoning had he gloated. He had never made any illusions to the event at all, in fact.

Harry remembered the first time he had seen Snape after Sirius had died. It had been in the Entrance Hall and Malfoy had just told Harry that he was going to kill him. Snape had come across them just as Harry had beaten Malfoy to the draw and had his wand trained unerringly on the Slytherin ferret. Of course, Snape had sneered at Harry in his usual way and taken points from him!

Harry's musings came to a screaming halt and his hand ceased its mindless caressing of Ginny's hair. It had not occurred to him before now.  Malfoy had threatened to kill him. Could Malfoy be the one who...

At that precise moment, a noisy, feathery cannonball whizzed into the room, circling Ron's fiery head once before careening into the new chess game that had just commenced and sending the shrieking pieces flying all over the room.

"Shit!" yelled Ron, putting a hand over his chest in an attempt to hold his adrenalin-charged heart in its original moorings. And then realising how loudly he had yelled out and wondering whether his mum would swoop into the room and berate him, he plucked Pig out of the air with a well-practised move and held the bird up to his crimson face. "You stupid, feathery git!" he bit out in irritation. Then his brow furrowed and he looked across at Harry.

"He shouldn't be back yet," he said in a much more subdued tone. "Scotland's way too far away for him to be here now."

Harry and Ginny were now sitting side by side on the sofa, staring at Pig as he hooted serenely over the top of Ron's fisted hand. Harry was as tense as a steel girder as he stared at the bird. Ginny held tightly to his arm, trying to infuse him with some of her strength.

Ron looked from Harry and Ginny to Hermione. "Do you think he lost the letter? Maybe I didn't tie it on tightly enough."

Harry wasn't sure whether he was more worried about whether Pig might have reached his destination and delivered that pathetic letter to Snape, or whether it might have come detached from his leg partway into the flight. In other words, did he want Snape to think that he was such a sap, or not?

"He didn't loose the letter, Mr Weasley." Four heads swivelled around and Harry bounded to his feet to face his father who was standing just inside the kitchen doorway. He could see Mrs Weasley behind Severus, but after smiling at Harry, she moved away to get on with whatever it was she had been doing since she had sent them all off after the evening meal.

Severus reached a hand into his robes and pulled out the letter. "It arrived compliments of your rather excitable owl, so, considering his diminutive size, and the distances involved, it was only fitting that as I was coming to see Harry anyway, I bring the avian menace back with me."

Silence stretched over several seconds before Ron managed to close his mouth and stammer a shocked, "Err...thanks Sir."

Severus nodded and then turned to face Harry. The boy was looking at him with a mixture of hope and embarrassment. Severus did not quite know how to start a conversation with his son, surrounded as he was by his Gryffindor guard, and as he was as wrong-footed as he had felt following their recent separation. Not being a master of diplomacy, however, he said the wrong thing.

"I gather you have been behaving yourself?"

The hopefulness on Harry's face disappeared and his sense of euphoria flickered and died. "I do know how, you know?" he said quietly.

Ginny's chin raised a little at the implied criticism but Harry squeezed her arm, indicating that she didn't need to become defensive on his behalf.

"I know that you do, Harry," said Severus, inwardly berating himself for his comment. He sighed deeply. "It took me a long time to believe that you were anything but an attention-seeking little twerp, but I have come to know that most of my preconceived notions as to your true nature were totally erroneous. I have known it for several weeks, in fact."

Severus paused and studied Harry's newly hopeful expression and although Harry had noted the ‘most' in his father's statement, he still felt buoyed by the concession.

Severus noted that Ginevra had not released her grip on Harry. He wondered if Harry had told his girlfriend and the other two thirds of the triumvirate the reason for their two day long separation.

He returned his gaze to Harry's face, and to break the tension he asked, "Are you well?" A pointless question as it was obvious that Harry was extremely well. Indeed, Severus had not seen Harry Potter looking so fit since he had first clapped eyes on him almost six years ago. For the first time, Severus could not see any signs of the ill health that had plagued Harry following his poisoning.

Harry licked his lips and nodded. "I'm fine," he said, interrupting Severus's musings.

Severus moved further into the room, as up till now, he had remained just inside the doorway to the kitchen. Pig twittered loudly and then he nipped Ron's finger...hard. Ron yelped and automatically opened his hand, raising his finger to his lips to suck the smarting wound.

Pig zoomed straight towards Severus, but instead of orbiting about his head in his usual demented fashion, the little Scops owl landed on his shoulder and began to nibble on his hair, just as he had done at Hogwarts. The four teens watched the bird's totally out of character behaviour in open-mouthed astonishment.

Severus raised a hand and closed his fist gently around the tiny owl. He held him at chest height, stroking the tiny head with a gentle thumb. Ron's eyes were wide with shock as a result of the defection of his bird. Pig's eyes had now fluttered shut in response to the mesmeric stroking. Ron was all too aware that he had never been able to calm the manic creature like his professor was now doing.

"Would you be open to returning to Hogwarts to spend the night?" Severus asked, keeping his eyes focused on Harry rather than on the handful of warm feathers that he held.

Harry's heart skittered several beats, then he nodded. "I'd like that," he said, just as quietly as his father had spoken. Harry felt Ginny's grip on his arm tighten momentarily before she released him and stepped away. He turned to her, feeling torn.

"Gin, I..."

Ginny touched the back of his hand. "It's OK, Harry. Go back with your dad. I imagine we'll see you soon." Harry knew that she was happy for him to return to Hogwarts with Snape, but she looked sad all the same.

Severus's next words shocked him as much as they apparently did the teens. He looked like he had toothache as he spoke. "Perhaps your friends would like to come to Hogwarts in a couple of days and spend the day on the Quidditch pitch with you, Harry." As Ron and Ginny's faces lit up, Severus's eye fell upon Hermione who was not looking totally ecstatic.

"Or if Quidditch is not your cup of tea, perhaps I can speak to the headmaster about allowing you access to the library, Miss Granger."

Hermione's brown eyes shone. "Thank you, Sir," she breathed. Severus nodded tersely, wondering what in the hell was wrong with him. But when he looked back at Harry, Harry beamed at him, and Severus felt a little better about his totally uncharacteristic offer. After all it was another step across the rickety bridge that was helping him and his son forge a proper relationship.

Harry knew that for Professor Severus Snape to actually consider his friends and his girlfriend, was a huge concession for him to make. After all, they were not only his friends, they were also Gryffindors and therefore beneath contempt.

Perhaps that attitude would soften now that he was actually related to a Gryffindor.

"Perhaps you could go and collect the things you wish to bring back home, Harry," Severus said, feeling a little bemused at his behaviour towards the other Gryffindors in the room. Surely becoming a father was not going to cause him to forget his general dislike of children, especially ones who were nearly grown and thought that they knew everything there was to know.

Merlin forbid!

Harry nodded enthusiastically in response to Severus's words, oblivious to the man's disquiet. He took Ginny's hand. "Can you come and help me, Gin?"

Ginny reddened a little as three pairs of eyes drilled into her and Harry. She knew that they knew that Harry didn't really need any help to gather his few belongings together. But she wasn't going to knock back the opportunity to be alone with him for a few minutes before he left. And Professor Snape wasn't voicing any complaints either, though he must realise that Harry wanted to share a private goodbye with her.

"What do you wish to do with your owl, Mr Weasley?" asked Severus. All eyes focused on the sleeping Pigwidgeon that Severus still held cradled in his large hand.

"I'll take him upstairs if you like, Ron," offered Harry and he gently took the proffered owl, who made a contented chirruping noise as the transfer was made, but who fell immediately back to sleep, his little chest rising and falling rapidly.

Harry and Ginny's departure from the room was made a little easier to bear for Severus when Arthur appeared in the kitchen doorway and beckoned Severus to join him and Molly for some supper. Severus liked that idea a lot more than staying in the same room with Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger. His uncharacteristic behaviour did not yet extend to passing the time of day with Harry's friends. After all, who knew how long it would take Harry and Miss Weasley to say their goodbyes?

Severus was pensive as he followed Arthur into the kitchen. He was remembering another lovely redhead whom he would have once given anything to be able to kiss goodbye in a manner other than that of old friends. As he slipped into a chair and Molly passed him a cup of tea and slid a plate of dark fruit cake in front of him, Severus firmly shut his mind against his very old and very frustrated desires where Lily Evans had been concerned.

As he sipped his drink and broke off a corner of the cake that he did not really want, he reflected on the fact that Harry seemed to have inherited both his and James's penchant for redheaded females. Severus couldn't fault their son's taste at all. Ginevra Weasley was a very becoming young girl whose looks would only improve with maturity. She was also far above average with her magical ability. He was sure that James would agree with their son's choice of girlfriend. And Lily would have just been happy to know that Ginny made Harry happy.

Of course, they were both very young and they may not ultimately end up together, but both he and James had irrevocably fallen in love early in life (unfortunately with the same girl); the likelihood that Harry was in the process of going down the same road seemed pretty high.

8888

Harry did not reappear in the living-room for fifteen minutes. Ron and Hermione had given up on the chess and were sitting at opposite ends of the sofa. Hermione had her arms and legs crossed and one leg was bobbing up and down agitatedly. As soon as she saw Harry, she hitched a smile onto her sullen face. Ron too looked tense and miserable.

Harry sighed. When were they just going to admit that they were attracted to each other and bloody get on with it?

Ron glowered pointedly at Harry's slightly swollen and reddened lips. "Got your packing done, I see," he said sarcastically, staring at Harry's leather hold-all and broomstick. "You want to watch yourself Harry; packing with you mouth can be detrimental to your health."

Hermione back-handed Ron on the arm. "Oh, will you get over yourself, Ron. You sound like a broken record. How many times do you have to cause an argument with Harry about Ginny?"

"I'm not...I wasn't..." spluttered Ron.

"Yes you were!" declared Harry and Hermione together.

"They're together, so get used to it!" added Hermione huffily, getting to her feet quite gracefully, considering that she was in a temper and that the sofa was very old and very saggy. "And couples kiss Ron. That's why they are couples, so that they can kiss and be close to each other. A concept that seems to have entirely passed you by, but then, you always have been slow on the uptake."

She moved across to Harry and he couldn't help thinking that she really did look miserable. "Have a good time with your dad, Harry. I think I might go home and spend some time with my own parents before school starts. I don't really spend enough time with them."

She put her hands on his shoulders and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank your dad for the invitation to Hogwarts, but I think I'll give it a miss. I'll see you before term starts though...maybe in Diagon Alley?"

Harry looked at her worriedly but he nodded and smiled. "Yeah, sure. That'd be great." He was more than a little surprised that Hermione would pass up an opportunity to have the run of the Hogwarts' library, but he thought he knew why she was going home. And the reason was slumped down on the sofa looking nettled.

Ron watched Hermione hurry to the stairs, then he turned back to Harry. "What in the name of Merlin's pants is her problem? She never said anything about going home before now."

Harry sighed and shrugged. He wasn't going to tell Ron to get a clue. It wasn't his place to tell Ron that Hermione really, really liked him and that she was waiting for him to give her some kind of sign that he definitely felt the same way. It wasn't his place to tell Ron that he was running hot and cold all the time and that Hermione was really getting fed up with waiting.

Harry knew that Ron did like Hermione as much more than just a friend; he remembered how Ron had looked at Hermione when they had all come to visit him that first time after he had been poisoned...before Harry had known that Snape was his father. But Ron seemed to have forgotten all of that. Sometimes he was possessive of Hermione and other times he seemed totally indifferent.

"Maybe she needs a bit of space," Harry said.

"A bit of space from what? We've been having a good time. She gets on really well with Ginny; they're like best girly-friends."

"She has got parents Ron. She's here more often than she is at her own home."

"But they went away on holiday and Hermione didn't want to go with them."

"Yeah, well, I expect they're back by now." Harry moved forward, keen to finish this particular conversation; he hit Ron on the arm in a display of blokey affection. "I'd better get going. You know Sn...err, my dad isn't renowned for his patience."

"Do you find it hard to call him ‘dad'?" asked Ron in a whisper, quickly picking up on Harry's faux pas. "You know, after the way he used to treat you and all."

Harry gave Ron a tight-lipped smile. "It's getting easier."

Ron nodded and watched Harry move toward the kitchen. But just before Harry exited the living-room, he called out and Harry turned back to look at him. "Harry, what did Hermione mean by ‘a broken record'? How can you break a record of something?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'll tell you when I see you in a couple of days. Or..." he added over his shoulder as he walked from the room, "You could ask Hermione."

8888

Severus and Arthur were talking quietly when Harry walked into the kitchen. He could hear Mrs Weasley puttering about in the scullery. Harry was sure that neither Mrs Weasley nor his father felt comfortable in each other's company and so Mrs Weasley had found some chores to do.

Both men looked around at Harry. Arthur smiled at him before speaking to Severus again. "If you wish to speak to Harry before you Floo back to Albus's office, Severus, you may use the living-room. The kids can vacate it for a time."

"I would be grateful. I was going to Apparate and side-along with Harry. I could have taken the opportunity to talk as we walked up to the castle. But then I recalled that Harry does not take too well to Apparition.

Harry felt his face heat up with embarrassed colour and Mr Weasley chuckled, pushing himself to his feet and patting Harry on the shoulder as he passed him on his way to the living-room. "It is a sensation that does take some getting used to. You'll acclimatise to it soon enough, Harry."

Harry looked at Severus. "Why do we need to talk before we get back to Hogwarts?" he asked a little worriedly.

Severus took Harry's elbow and guided him back into the room that he had just vacated. Ron was heading up the stairs at his father's behest, looking back over his shoulder at Harry and his newly discovered father. Ron did not know whether he would ever be able to come to terms with Professor Snape being a father, let alone Harry's father. but he would be there for Harry, regardless.

Arthur smiled at Severus and Harry as he returned to the kitchen to keep his wife company and Severus shut the door behind him.

Harry was really beginning to look a little anxious now. Why all the privacy?

"Here, let me shrink your broom." Severus took the Firebolt and pointed his wand at it. Harry heard the muttered spell, Reducio! and watched as his broom shrank to about six inches long, the perfect replica of its larger self, down to the last twig.

"Do you have the case?" Harry reached into the front pocket of the hold-all for the beautifully engraved case that Snape had given him. Severus enclosed the broom within and handed it back to Harry.

Severus was looking a little grim and Harry, thinking he was in for another lecture about his need to put in more of an effort, burst into speech before Severus could begin. "I really meant what I said in my letter, you know? I really do intend to make more of an effort. I'll think before I burst out with any asinine statements or accuse you unfairly of anything."

When Severus raised an eyebrow, Harry ploughed on desperately before he could speak. "I really am sorry, sir. I don't know why I just  can't accept all of this without over-analysing everything and then imaging all kinds of dire things. I do believe that you want this..." Harry moved his index finger backwards and forwards between himself and Severus, "...to work and that you're doing your best to make it work."

When Severus still remained silent, Harry became conscious of his intense regard and he lowered his head to study his trainers. "I guess it all boils down to the fact that I can't really believe anything this good could happen to me," he trailed off self-consciously.

Severus studied the top of Harry's messy head and another seismic shift took place within his chest. He still found it difficult to believe that Harry had so readily accepted him into his life after their torrid past association. This boy was so vulnerable and so very needy. He felt a little humbled, when he realised that Harry was investing so much emotion in him, but also a little panicked when he realised  that he was such a large part of the boy's immediate happiness and contentment.

Harry needed to be happy and content now to be able to face what Albus was convinced he would eventually have to face. If that dire day came to pass when he met the Dark Lord in a fight to the finish, then Harry needed to feel good about the rest of his life...he needed a reason to win.

Sighing, Severus stepped forward and put his hand on Harry's shoulder and squeezed. "We both need to think before we speak, Harry, not just you. It was overly harsh of me to banish you the way I did."

Harry looked up hopefully and Severus gazed into the green eyes that wrung his heart every time he saw them. "It will not happen again, I promise you. If it makes you feel any better, I missed having you around. The dungeon rooms somehow seem bereft without your presence."

Harry's green eyes became a little brighter in the dim light afforded by the gas lamps that illuminated the room. He swallowed past the lump that was threatening to occlude his airway. Had Snape just said that he had missed him?

It seemed so.

"I missed you too," Harry admitted, though it was difficult to look his father in the eye; his trainers were a much safer option at the moment. His vision wouldn't go starry if he looked at his trainers rather than the regretful features in front of him.

The silence seemed interminable, and finally Harry looked up. It seemed that was what his father had been waiting for because he squeezed the shoulder upon which his hand still rested and offered his version of a smile...the tight lipped grimace that Harry was becoming used to.

"Very well. We will get past this as we have survived all the other obstacles thrown in our path, the most malignant of which are both our tempers and our inability to listen when it is necessary. You are definitely my son in these respects, I am afraid."

Harry's lips quirked and Severus raised that mobile eyebrow that he knew Harry had also inherited from him. "Well, You know what they say, Dad. It's never too late to improve."

"They say that, do they?" drawled Severus, and all of a sudden Harry felt elated. His father was joking around with him, and it felt good. But there was one thing he felt compelled to ask.

"Did you come because of the letter?"

Severus drew himself up to his full height, a little nonplussed by the question. Here was more of Harry's monumental insecurity. "Will you believe me if I say ‘no'?"

Harry bit his lip, but he nodded unhesitatingly. Severus's eyebrow quirked again-this time expressing doubt-and before Harry could launch into further assurances to prove his willingness to put in more of an effort, Severus spoke.

"I had not had a very good day in my lab, Harry, and I was this close..." Severus held his thumb and index finger about quarter of an inch apart, "to coming to get you. Then Dumbledore Floo-called me to tell me that I had an owl. I joined the resident faculty in the Great Hall, ate a meagre meal as I read your missive, pocketed that demented little creature and left the castle grounds to Apparate here.

"So, in answer to your question, your letter was the catalyst, but you would have found me on the doorstep this evening, regardless."

Harry felt a bubble of happiness and relief inflate inside his chest, and all he could do was nod his response to his father's admission, but Severus could see that Harry believed him.

"I ruined five separate potions since our altercation, Harry."

Harry's eyes widened. "Five!"

"Five. One's thoughts have to be entirely on the job in hand when one is dealing with magical ingredients and accompanying wand-work. Mine were several hundred miles away."

Harry grinned and Severus attempted to look stern. "You feel that my failures are a matter of humour, Potter?"

"Not the failures, per se, Professor, but the reason for the failures do make me feel quite chuffed."

"Hmm."

"But it's also nice to know that even someone as pedantically perfectionistic as yourself, can occasionally make mistakes. Makes it seem that there may be some hope for the rest of us mere mortals."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Pedantically perfectionistic!" He shuddered. "There is no such word as perfectionistic."

"See what I mean?" Harry's grin became wider. Pedantic and perfectionistic. I just made the word up. The perfect two adjectives to describe Professor Severus Snape."

Severus rolled his eyes again and shook his head, and Harry was pleased to note that the greasy, lank hair he had always been so used to seeing, was still as clean and shiny as it had been  since he had woken from his poison-induced coma.

Severus felt ridiculously pleased to know that Harry bore him no grudge over their latest contretemps. But as he studied the happy, handsome young boy before him, he suddenly remembered why he had wanted to speak to his son, and the good humour drained out of him in an instant. He turned away and crossed the room to stand staring out of the window at the moonlit front garden.

The smile adorning Harry's face slowly began to slip when he realised that the atmosphere had changed perceptibly. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Severus took a deep breath. Discussing anything to do with Sirius Black was not a task he relished. And considering the subject matter and Harry's very real affection for the mutt, the task was going to be even more onerous.

Severus knew that he had to attempt to put his bitterness towards his oldest enemy behind him, because the subject matter was going to upset the boy all by itself...Harry did not need to hear his underlying abhorrence of Black cause every word he spoke to be laced with bile. He squared his shoulders as he turned and looked at Harry.

"I wish to discuss Black with you, Harry," he said without further preamble, and he immediately cursed himself when Harry went very still and most of the colour drained from his face.

After several seconds, the boy turned and walked to the sagging sofa on stiff legs and lowered himself onto the cushions. He leaned forward with his forearms on his thighs, and studied his hands.

"What about him?" he asked in a subdued voice. It could not have been more obvious that Harry had kept thoughts of the mutt at bay and that the subject was not a welcome one. Severus supposed that the subject was even less welcome, instigated as it had been, by him. But he wanted to prepare the boy for whatever Dumbledore had to tell him.

Severus decided that there was little point in prevaricating further. "When we get back to Hogwarts, Professor Dumbledore wishes to discuss Black's will with you."

Harry's dark brows drew together. "His will! What will?" And then Harry seemed to come to a realisation and he jumped to his feet. "I don't want to hear anything about Sirius's will! I don't want any of his stuff, if that's what Dumbledore wants to talk to me about."

Severus wouldn't have been human had he not felt a sense of gloating pleasure at Harry's words. His son did not want any of Black's leavings. But clear thinking quickly overtook him and as he watched Harry stalk backwards and forwards across the room, his agitation and distress increasing by the second, Severus knew that he had to bury his old hatred of anything to do with his old Gryffindor enemy and act like the responsible adult he was meant to be.

"Harry, the will is a fait accompli. Professor Dumbledore is just the bearer of the news. You are obviously a beneficiary...to what extent, I have no idea."

Harry was shaking his head. "I don't care. I don't want any of his stuff. I'd just remember him every time I looked at anything he gives me. I want to forget!"

"You want to forget your Godfather?" Severus couldn't believe the words that had just come out of his mouth. And then he had to compound his idiocy by adding, "Black could not have loved you more if you were his own."

Harry halted in his tracks in the middle of this pronouncement and though incredulity was stamped across his features, anguish subsumed it. "It'll be too hard," he whispered, his voice cracking.

Severus moved forward and his large hand snaked around the back of Harry's neck. He exerted a modicum of pressure to pull Harry slightly towards him and he bent so that their noses were practically touching. "Let us wait and see what Albus has to impart, Harry," he said in a low voice. He held Harry's brilliant green eyes with his own fathomless pools. He lowered his voice a little more and added. "You have to remember that Black...that Sirius desired you to have whatever he has bequeathed you, Harry. You were his family."

Harry lowered his head so that his forehead was resting against Severus's. Severus heard him swallow. "You'll stay with me, yeah?"

"If that is your wish."

"It is," said Harry quickly.

Severus straightened and squeezed Harry's neck gently. "Then let us go and see what Dumbledore has to tell you."

Severus ushered Harry across to the fireplace and after throwing down a pinch of powder, the two wizards found themselves being propelled through the cramped spaces of the magical Floo Network...a trip lasting a very uncomfortable fifty seconds between the Burrow in Devon and Hogwarts in the Scottish highlands.

Before this summer, Harry had travelled by Floo powder a grand total of twice. Now, it was nearly as familiar to him as riding on his broom, but nowhere near as enjoyable. Harry still hated it with a passion, though in his opinion, it was fractionally better than side-along Apparition; in truth, he hated them both.

Severus, well aware of his son's adverse reaction to Floo travel, held onto Harry's arm and when the spinning stopped, he guided Harry onto Dumbledore's hearth. Harry was embarrassed but grateful; he despaired of ever being able to tolerate any form of magical travel other than broomstick.

This time, however, Harry was surprised when the world stopped spinning almost as soon as his feet hit the solid surface of Dumbledore's hearth. And his stomach returned to its original position within his abdomen immediately the spinning in his head stopped.

He looked suitably pleased with himself and he grinned at Severus. "That wasn't as bad as it usually is."

"Severus rolled his eyes. "Not before time."

"Now, Severus. Harry is not alone in not being able to come to terms with the effects of Floo travel, nor indeed, Apparition." Harry spun around and watched Dumbledore navigate the last couple of stairs down to the office into which he and Snape had just Flooed into. His smile faded.

"How are you, dear boy?"

"Fine thanks, Sir."

"Excellent," said Dumbledore and he indicated that Harry and Severus seat themselves in front of the beautiful desk that Harry had admired since his very first sighting of it way back in his second year.

Severus sat, noting the presence of a third chair in front of the desk. 

"We will have to wait for another few minutes, I am afraid," said Dumbledore as he waved his wand and his phoenix Patronus shimmered into being before disappearing through the closed door leading to the enchanted stone staircase.

Severus turned back to Dumbledore after watching the beautiful, silver apparition disappear, and bestowed a sour look upon him. "Let me think..." he drawled. "there is another beneficiary."

Dumbledore bowed his head. "Astute, as always, my boy," he said looking perfectly at ease in the face of Severus's glower.

Harry couldn't quite understand what was causing his father's displeasure. Albus filled the heavy silence by sweeping his wand over the top of his desk to clear a space,  and then twiddling it to conjure a tray of refreshments, which he lowered onto the exposed surface.

Severus's sat with his hands clasped upon his black-robed stomach, the glower firmly in place as Albus prepared them all drinks and quizzed Harry as to what he had been up to whilst at the Burrow. The colour in Harry's cheeks blossomed when his headmaster, the twinkle in his eyes turned up to full wattage, specifically enquired about Ginny's well-being.

He was saved from answering by the roar of the Floo and Remus stepped out onto the hearth. Harry smiled delightedly. Remus crossed the space and walking behind Severus's chair, he clapped Harry on the shoulder.

"It's good to see you, Harry," he said, ignoring the glacial cold that seemed to emanate from Severus.

"And you," returned Harry.  Although Lupin looked genuinely pleased to see him, Harry could not help but think that, like him, Remus looked decidedly uneasy about what they were going to be told by Dumbledore. Harry was profoundly glad though, that he didn't have to endure this alone; it seemed as if Sirius must have left something to Remus as well.

"Remus." Dumbledore was holding a cup of tea out to Remus and he took it and sat down on Severus's other side.

Because it would have been the height of rudeness to ignore the presence of the other man in the room (and unlike Severus, Remus was not rude), Remus said, "Severus."

Severus nodded curtly and said, in what Harry considered to be an unnecessarily snide voice, "Lupin."

"Albus, can you tell me why it has taken so long for this will to come to light. Sirius has been dead for over a month." Remus's voice sounded pained.

"You can blame the Ministry for that, my boy. Sirius' will went through the proper channels when he wrote it, but Scrimgeour decided that they would take the allowable time to check the will out to make sure Sirius was not passing on any dark artefacts. I imagine that Sirius's...er, questionable family connections were the reason behind this decision. Regardless, Scrimgeour stuck to the letter of the law by withholding the reading of the will under the Decree for Justifiable Confiscation-until they had double-checked that there were indeed, no Dark objects amongst Sirius's possessions."

"I thought the allowable time  stated within the parameters of that decree was thirty-one days," inserted Severus.

"You are correct, Severus. But the Ministry were able to extend the time by taking their time to declare that Sirius was, in fact, dead."

"And have they pardoned him?" asked Harry, tightly, not really caring that the reading of Sirius's will had been delayed because of some stupid decree.

Dumbledore sighed. "No, Harry. That has not happened."

"Why not?" cried Harry, surging to his feet and slopping some of his tea into the saucer he was gripping. Severus leaned forward and grabbed Harry's arm to stop further spillage. Harry hardly seemed to notice. Severus slid his own cup and saucer onto the desk before removing Harry's from his shaking hand.

"The Wizengamot, in its infinite wisdom, has decided, despite testimony from myself and many of the Order's members that until they see proof that Pettigrew is still alive, they will not be issuing a pardon for Sirius."

Harry stared at Dumbledore. "But you're the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot," said Harry, softly, hopelessly. "Why won't they believe you?"

"Harry, this is bureaucracy at its highest level," said Severus. "They do things just because they can. Or not, in this case."

"Yeah, but what about the fact that Sirius was thrown into Azkaban without a trial. He had no opportunity to defend himself then, and now, when they know he was fighting Death Eaters, they still think he is a Death Eater. Do they even think that Bellatrix killed him? I suppose their version of events is that Sirius tripped and fell through the veil."

Remus had been silent throughout this discussion. He was sitting forward in his chair with his head down, his forehead cradled in his hand. "Let it go, Harry. There is no point belabouring this," he said now, his voice bitter. "The Ministry are never going to admit that they did anything wrong fifteen years ago. They are certainly not going to pardon Sirius unless Peter is handed to them on a silver platter to match his silver hand."

"It will happen one day, Remus. I promise you that," said Dumbledore.

"You cannot promise that, Albus," said Remus. "Can we just get on with this." He gestured vaguely towards the various stacks of papers on Albus's desk.

Harry sank back into his chair. He had fallen silent in the face of Remus's very real despair. He had only known Sirius for a little over two years. Remus had known him since they were eleven years old. Oh, sure, for twelve of those years, he had thought Sirius was a traitor and a murderer, but even with that being the case, Harry knew that Remus would have mourned the loss of Sirius, as much as he had the loss of Lily and James and Pettigrew.

Harry noticed that Snape no longer looked as if he had a bad smell under his nose. He was staring straight ahead his face set, and though Sirius and he had been enemies since they were eleven years old, Harry thought he detected a certain amount of regret or compunction, or something, for the train-wreck that had been the last sixteen years of Sirius's life.

Even enemies it seemed, could see when justice had been grossly miscarried.

Dumbledore was suddenly all business and he opened his top desk drawer and pulled out a roll of parchment which he unfurled and then spelled to stay flat.

"This is very simple gentlemen. Sirius has left twelve Grimmauld Place and all its contents to you, Harry.

"But I don't want it!" burst out Harry.

"Harry," said Severus in a low voice. "We talked about this, did we not."

"Yeah!" cried Harry. "But I didn't think of the house. I don't want the house. I hate that house! Sirius hated that house."

"Harry!" Dumbledore's voice was authorative despite its lack of volume.

Harry subsided. He looked at Dumbledore and saw that his face was set in stern lines and there was not a twinkle to be seen in the periwinkle blue eyes. "Sorry," he muttered.

"Harry, it is very simple. Sirius left you Grimmauld place for several reasons. Number one, he cared for you deeply, and that house and the ground upon which it sits, is  a very valuable piece of property.

"Number two, If he had not tied up all the lose ends and left the property to a person of his choosing, it would have gone to the next person in line within his family-his eldest cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange."

"What!" exclaimed Harry. "It would have gone to her even though she is a known criminal and Death Eater, and an escapee from Azkaban."

As that house did not come into Black hands through criminal activity, Harry, then Bellatrix is perfectly entitled to be its rightful owner. She just would not be able to take up residence openly.

Harry sighed. He would rather have the house than let it fall into that woman's hands. "Well, at least it can remain the headquarters for the Order this way."

Dumbledore bowed his head in acknowledgement. "That is very generous, Harry. It will certainly be easier than trying to find somewhere else with the same level of protection."

"What about the elf?" asked Severus. Harry looked at him in surprise.

"Kreacher is now Harry's," said Dumbledore simply."

Harry's mouth fell open. "Tha-that elf is now mine!" he spluttered. "That..." Harry couldn't think of an epithet foul enough for the Black family's old House Elf. "...that Kreacher betrayed Sirius. He set him up to die. He would never accept me as his master-even if I was willing to be his master."

"Harry, I am afraid that there is no choice in this matter. You are the owner of the Black property, therefore you are the owner of Kreacher."

Dumbledore rose and walked around his desk to perch on the edge in front of Harry. "I think it would be a good idea to get him out of Grimmauld Place whilst the Order is still in residence, and you, his owner, are not there to keep him under control. He does not have to obey anyone else."

"But where can he go?" asked Harry. He loathed the elf, but he didn't want him to be without a home. He said so.

Dumbledore smiled. "There is a solution, but we will deal with that in a few minutes. To continue on with the bequests...there is another proviso concerning the house."

Dumbledore looked towards Remus who had sat quietly throughout the proceedings so far. Remus didn't look up from his contemplation of his knees.

"The house is unequivocally yours, Harry, but the proviso is that Remus has a home there as long as he lives."

Remus's head jerked up and Harry cried, "But that's perfect. I don't want to live there and Remus has been living there since Sirius opened it up again."

"I'm living here at the moment, Harry," Remus said with a gentle smile. But if I find myself homeless and jobless again, I would be happy to have you as my landlord." But Harry could tell from the look on Remus's face that living at Grimmauld Place was the very last thing that he wanted to do now that Sirius wasn't there.

"The last two bequests," said Dumbledore, before Harry could speak again, "concerns the gold in the Black family vault. It is to be divided equally between you, Harry, and you, Remus."

Now Remus looked stunned. Albus smiled at him. "I do not think you ever have to worry about not having a roof over your head again, Remus. You are now quite a rich man."

Remus shook his head disbelievingly. "I-I never expected anything like this," he croaked. "Sirius told me he was writing his will-just in case-but I assumed he would leave everything to Harry. He should  have left it all to Harry."

"No, Remus," said Harry. "You were his oldest friend. Sirius cared for you and he knew how hard things are for you. He should have left it all to you because I already have gold from my mum and dad." Harry glanced quickly at Severus's face. "James," he amended quickly.

Severus sighed. "James is still your father Harry. We have discussed this before."

"Sorry," mumbled Harry.

"So, Remus, Harry..." inserted Dumbledore again. "To get back to the subject at hand. You both have to go to Gringotts at your earliest convenience to settle the transfer of the funds into your own vaults. Tolnok, the manager of the bank, has prepared the necessary paperwork. All that is needed is the addition of your signatures."

Dumbledore smiled at Harry and Severus in turn. "Perhaps you would allow Remus to accompany Harry, Severus, as you cannot be seen out and about with Harry Potter.

"Thank you Albus," said Severus stiffly. "I will arrange something."

"I would be happy to accompany Harry, Severus." said Remus.

"I have no doubt, but I wish to accompany Harry."

"Severus," said Dumbledore warningly.

"If you think that I will allow Harry to enter such a public and unprotected place as Diagon Alley without my protection, Albus, then you are definitely going senile. I know I cannot be seen out and about with Harry Potter, so obviously, some careful planning is necessary."

Severus had risen from his chair and was walking up and down. "There is plenty of time to work out a viable plan, but in the meantime, I suggest we deal with the unresolved matter of the elf."

"Please don't say that I have to keep him with me, sir," pleaded Harry.

"That won't be necessary Harry. But I think it would be best to keep him here at Hogwarts where a close eye can be kept on him. He needs to be in close proximity to you so that he no longer has an urge to wander away. He can work in the kitchens where the other elves can keep an eye on him."

Harry privately thought that even the kitchens was too close to him, but he nodded all the same.

"Why don't you summon him?"

"From here?" said Harry, astonished.

"Yes my boy. As soon as Sirius died, Kreacher became irrevocably bound to you. If you summoned him from the other side of the world, he would be able to Apparate to your side."

Marvelling at just how powerfully magical house-elves were, and thinking that it was just as well that they were happy being subjugated to wizards, Harry, feeling very self-conscious and more than a little foolish, opened his mouth and called, "Kreacher!" in a ringing tone.

Almost instantaneously, a loud crack reverberated through the room and the dirty, dishevelled old elf appeared at Harry's feet. He was even more gungy than the last time Harry had seen him out of the fireplace in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. His toga was filthy and hung in near tatters and he was so thin, his skin, grey with ingrained filth, hung in folds from his cheeks and his arms.  

Harry stepped back quickly, loathe to be anywhere near the thing that had betrayed Sirius. As Harry looked at the pathetic creature with distaste, he was struck at just how very different Kreacher was to Dobby.

If he had to own a house-elf, why couldn't it have been Dobby?

"Master called," croaked the elf in his deep, bullfrog's voice and he raised eyes to Harry that were just as full of loathing as Harry imagined his own to be.

His general abhorrence of Kreacher made Harry squirm guiltily; he wasn't used to feeling this much loathing for someone. He did not even feel towards the Dursleys the way he felt towards this pathetic excuse for a living thing. But he hardened his heart and ignored the mental prodding by Hermione to be kind to Kreacher.

"Err, yeah. Um..." Harry looked from Dumbledore to Remus, to Severus for some guidance.

"Severus stepped forward. "Harry Potter is now your master, Kreacher," he said in his deep, authorative voice that no student would dare defy. "He wishes you to stay here at Hogwarts and work in the kitchens with the other house-elves."

Kreacher bestowed a similar look of loathing upon Severus, then he turned his bloodshot, gooseberry eyes upon Harry again. "Is what Severus Snape says true, master?" he said contemptuously.

"Yes!" said Harry firmly. "And I order you to obey the commands of Professor Snape, Professor Lupin and Professor Dumbledore at any time. Do you understand?" Harry did not think it wise to tell Kreacher that Snape was his father.

"Oh, yeah, better add Professor McGonagall to that list as well."

Kreacher was looking at Remus and his lip had curled with contempt. "Master wants Kreacher to obey the commands of the werewolf?"

Harry's face suffused with blood and he stepped close to Kreacher, his fists clenched. He wanted to wring that scrawny little neck. "You will obey Professor Lupin!" he said loudly. "Is that understood?"

Kreacher's eyes lowered to half-mast and he made one of his ridiculously low bows and spoke to his toes. ""Kreacher understands, master." And then lowering his voice he said, quite audibly, "Kreacher's old mistress would never have asked Kreacher to demean himself by serving a traitor to the Dark Lord. No she would not. And as for having to serve a Dark Creature..."

"I don't want to hear one more word about what your old mistress would or would not do, Kreacher. Not another word about her! Do you hear me?"

"Kreacher hears master," spat the elf. "May Kreacher go and begin his new duties?"

"One more thing before you go," said Harry his nose wrinkling with distaste. The three older wizards looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"Kreacher lives to serve his master," said Kreacher, but Harry could almost hear the insults reverberating around the inside of the elf's head.

"Before you present yourself to the kitchens, I order you to go and clean yourself up. And you will clean yourself daily while you are here. Understood?"

Kreacher looked down at his filthy toga and then he held out one of his stick thin arms and studied it, turning it backwards and forwards. Harry's brow creased as he watched this performance and when the elf looked back at him, Harry was sure that he could see confusion and distress on the wizened old face.

It was almost as though Kreacher had not realised just how filthy and disreputable he had become. Against his will, Harry found himself feeling sorry for the elf. Then he remembered the jubilant laughter that had accompanied Kreacher's telling him that Sirius had gone to the Department of Mysteries, and that he would not come back from there.

Forgetting the other wizards in the room, Harry turned his back on Kreacher. He fought to subdue his rage as much as he fought his sympathy.

"Dobby!" Harry called.

The air was rent with another loud crack and Dobby, the House-elf appeared in front of Harry. When he saw Harry, the little face split in half with a toothy grin and Harry just had time to brace himself before Dobby launched himself  forward and wrapped his arms around Harry's waist.

"Harry Potter has called for Dobby! Dobby is so happy! What is Harry Potter wanting with Dobby."

Harry gently disentangled himself from the skinny little arms and he marvelled that the towering stack of knitted hats on Dobby's head had not toppled off. They had to be kept in place by magic, he thought.

"Dobby, this is Kreacher," said Harry, and Dobby's smile died when he caught his first glimpse of the older elf. Kreacher's filthy state, and the glower that had taken up residence on his face at the sight of his younger counterpart, caused Dobby's previously happy mood to disappear and a look of disgust to rival Harry's to cross his face.

"I have just inherited Kreacher, Dobby, and he will be joining the elves here at Hogwarts. As you can see, he needs cleaning up and a new Hogwarts' toga. Can you take him under your wing for me."

Kreacher's glower became darker and Dobby turned away from him and beamed up at Harry again. "Dobby is knowing this elf. This elf is Mistress Narcissa's aunt's elf."

"Yeah, well, he's mine now," said Harry. Harry was glad to see that Dobby did not require an explanation as to why the Black family's elf now belonged to him.

"Dobby is happy to be of assistance to Harry Potter. Dobby is happy to do anything Harry Potter asks."

"Thanks Dobby. I'd also like you to come and tell me if Kreacher is causing any hassles. Would you do that for me?"

"Anything Harry Potter. Would it be all right if Dobby came to see Harry Potter when he is back in Gryffindor tower?"

"Course you can. Anytime."

"Thank you Harry Potter!" cried the little elf and he flung his arms around Harry again. Harry patted him on his skinny little shoulder. Dobby still wore Ron's shrunken maroon jumper and his football shorts and about half a dozen socks on each foot. Even though he looked so very strange with his mismatched clothes, he was scrupulously clean.

After this embarrassingly effusive goodbye, Dobby gingerly grabbed Kreacher's bony wrist and the pair Disapparated.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief and he slowly turned around.

He did a slight double-take to find Severus, Remus and Dumbledore standing together in front of Dumbledore's desk. During the whole episode with Dobby, Harry had forgotten their presence and he was disconcerted to see matching grins on Remus and Dumbledore's faces and a smirk that passed for a grin on his father's face.

"What?" said Harry, his face reddening.

"Harry Potter, the house-elf's friend and saviour," drawled Severus and the three grins intensified.

Harry's glower matched Kreacher's. "Sorry, but that title belongs to Hermione."