Harry shivered as he stepped into the large corridor beyond Severus'---and his---quarters and left the comfortable temperature of the warming spell. It really was cool down here in the dungeons. He'd have to remember to unpack his winter clothes when he returned.

He made his way down the hall, ignoring a couple of narrow corridors that opened off of this wider one. He recognised one as the way to the Slytherin dormitory, which might have been interesting to explore, but he doubted their portrait would let him in without the password.

Severus probably wouldn't want him wandering about in the Slytherins' private rooms, either. That thought alone was enough to keep him moving towards the Great Hall and upstairs. He really didn't want to upset or disappoint his father. Besides, he had promised to try to get along better with the Slytherins this year, hadn't he? Snooping in their dorm wouldn't be a good way to begin, even if they wouldn't know about it.

A wide staircase led upwards at the end of the corridor, and then he was in the front entrance of the castle. Harry tiptoed over to the arched door leading into the Great Hall and peeked through, but it was empty. The professors must have moved on to the staff room.

A startled miaow and a hiss broke the silence and Harry spun around to see a bedraggled particoloured cat on the floor behind him, her back arched and her amber eyes glaring. Mrs. Norris.

"Why didn't you stay lost?" Harry grumbled under his breath, recalling how Dumbledore had told them of the cat's disappearance earlier in the summer. Normally he was fond of animals, but Filch's malevolent pet was an exception.

And wherever Mrs. Norris went, the dour caretaker was sure to be close behind. Sure enough, Filch came hurrying in from another side corridor, carrying a mop and tugging a small cart with a pail of water behind him.

"What's upsetting my precious? Is it that nasty little Peeves again? I'll..." Filch scowled as he saw Harry. "What're you doing here already? Students aren't allowed to be here yet. If you've gone and caused any more trouble..."

"I live with Professor Snape now and I came with him. And I haven't done anything," Harry had to force himself to add, "Sir."

Filch just snorted in disbelief and regarded Harry suspiciously for another moment, as if he were trying to think up some rule that must have been broken. But finally he just moved on, muttering about ungrateful, sloppy students under his breath. Mrs. Norris trotted after him, sideswiping at Harry's foot with her claws as she went by.

Harry glowered after him, thinking uncharitable thoughts about Filch being just as ugly and bedraggled as his cat, when he abruptly stopped himself. It wasn't nice to poke fun of someone's appearance, even in the privacy of one's own mind, even if it was someone as disagreeable as Filch.

And he himself was short and scrawny still, even though he had been eating better towards the end of the summer. Not to mention that until he was eleven, his clothes had been just as worn and patched as Filch's. He'd been teased about his appearance before, too, though not at Hogwarts. That had happened in primary school when some of the other kids had learned to stay on Dudley's good side by joining in at bullying Harry.

But he knew what it was to be laughed at because his appearance, and it hurt. He wouldn't do that to someone else, even Filch. Although it wasn't so much Filch's actual looks that made him unappealing. It was his surly mean-spirited personality. Why was Filch such a petty vindictive soul, anyway?

Harry froze abruptly as he realised that until a couple months ago, he would have described Severus in exactly the same way. Well, Severus had been unkind and unfair to Harry in the past. Severus himself admitted that much.

But now that he knew his father better, Harry could understand why he'd been that way...mostly because he had been so hurt and angry by all the abuse he had suffered and perhaps a bit because he had been forced to play a role as Voldemort's spy. Understanding the reasons behind Severus' actions made it easier for Harry to forgive him, especially once he'd also known that Severus was remorseful and had changed.

So what could be Filch's reasons?

Well, it would be hard to be a squib surrounded by wizards who could perform magic. Harry knew that the caretaker wanted to be able to do magic, too. The Kwikspell letters he had found in Filch's office in second year were proof of that.

It was probably a difficult job, too, trying to keep the castle neat and orderly and always having to clean up after students, some of whom went out of their way to make a mess in retaliation for Filch's grumpiness. Certainly Filch had never seemed to take any pleasure from his tasks.

But why did he stay at Hogwarts then? Why not go to the Muggle world and do something else? Why did the caretaker stay on in a place where he seemed to be miserable?

Harry didn't know anything about Filch's family, he realised, though he was pretty sure the caretaker wasn't married, seeing as how he was constantly at Hogwarts. Filch didn't really seem to have anyone, except for Mrs. Norris. Was it possible that he had grown up lonely and mistreated too, just as Harry and Severus had?

Except that I was lucky. I met Ron and Hermione, and I made friends here. But he knew that Severus had not had any real friends in his youth, and it didn't seem that Filch had ever had any friends either.

Harry felt a glimmer of compassion and he suddenly decided that he at least would try harder to be respectful and maybe even friendly towards Filch. Then he shook his head at himself.

What a year this is going to be. Severus is my father and now I'm thinking of being friends with Filch? Ron really will think I've gone barmy.

But Harry knew all too well what it felt like to be ostracised and alone, to feel different and cut-off from everyone else. He'd felt like that for as long as he could remember, and though it had gotten a lot better since he'd come to Hogwarts, there were still times when he'd felt that way. After all, there had been several times here when most of the other students had shunned him...in second year when they had feared that he was the Heir of Slytherin, in fourth year when so many of them had believed he had cheated his way into the Triwizard Tournament, and for a time last year when people had not known whether to believe Harry or the Ministry about the Dark Lord's return.

He alone had been singled out by Voldemort. And now, even after the dark wizard was gone, he was still singled out. He was the only wizard who was a slave, and even if they managed to keep it hidden, Harry knew it and could never forget.

He turned to look at the place near the stairs where Draco Malfoy had cast the curse against him. Slowly, without thinking about it, he walked to the spot and stood there for a moment, remembering that evening. If he had to do it over, would he go to his friends at the Feast, or do something...anything...differently to escape the slavery spell?

His first automatic reaction was a resounding yes! But if he hadn't been cursed, if Severus hadn't caught him, then they wouldn't have found one another. They wouldn't be father and son, and Harry wouldn't have a home and a real family now.

He hated being a slave.

But he loved Severus.

He loved having a family and a home. And if the slavery spell was the price he had to pay to have Severus for his father, then it was worth it.

But it still hurt, and he couldn't help but hope that some day he might be able to have his family and his freedom, too.

Harry sighed and looked down at the Firebolt in his hand. He wasn't even sure if he really felt like going out to the Quidditch pitch anymore, but he did need to practice his skills if he was going to be Gryffindor's Seeker this year. After two years with little playing time, he was bound to be a bit rusty. Flying at Prince Hall this summer had helped, especially that last time when Ron had been there too and they'd actually flown against one another and worked on their techniques, but it still wasn't really the same as when he'd had regular Quidditch practice and real matches. Anyway, flying always cheered him up so he'd probably feel better if he went on down to the pitch for a while.

Harry resolutely gripped the Firebolt harder and strode outside.

***

It was a perfect day for flying, sunny and warm with a blazing blue sky and snowy puffs of clouds. The House banners hanging from the stands were a crisp, colourful backdrop, and the lawn was a brilliant emerald patch. Harry did feel better the instant he released the Snitch and kicked off from the ground.

The tiny winged ball hovered for just an instant and then, with impossible speed, it flitted through the air to the opposite end of the pitch. Harry pushed his troubles away and took off in pursuit.

For a wonderful, endless time, nothing mattered except gliding through the air, spinning and diving on the sleek Firebolt, chasing the ever-elusive golden Snitch. Harry leaned close to his broom, the wind whipping his face so that it made his eyes water, then angled his body so that the broom abruptly dropped and changed directions. It was a tricky move, simple enough at slow speed, but much more difficult at a quick pace. It would be easy to lose control of the broom if he weren't careful. But once mastered, this technique gave a Seeker a distinct advantage in changing altitude and direction.

Harry practiced over and over until he was finally satisfied and then incorporated the move into his chase for the Snitch. He caught it almost at once and was grinning as he brought the Firebolt back to the ground.

Only then did he notice Severus waiting at the end of the field, near the teams' changing rooms, a lean figure dressed all in black.

Harry ran over to him, still grinning. "Severus, did you see?"

But Severus didn't look happy at all. In fact, he was scowling. Harry hadn't seen him look like that in quite some time, and his heart sank. What could be wrong? Just for an instant he wondered if his father might be regretting allowing him to play against Slytherin. Severus did like for his House to win, after all.

But then Severus spoke, in short, clipped tones. "What is the last thing I said to you this morning?"

Harry had to think for a moment. "Um, to leave a note if I went anywhere...oh."

"Oh, indeed. Did it occur to you that I might be a tad concerned to return to our rooms and find no trace of you? After specifically asking you to leave a note if you decided to venture off?" Severus inquired, his voice as icy as a glacier.

Harry felt contrite, but at the same time, he couldn't help but feel that Severus was making an awful lot out of a small mistake. "I'm sorry, but I just forgot. I mean, we are Hogwarts. It's not like there's any danger here."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Harry knew he'd said the wrong thing. Actually, even he realised at once that it wasn't true. Voldemort had penetrated the school's defenses before, in spite of all of Dumbledore's power and efforts.

Severus seemed to grow even angrier, though he never lost his control. "Ah, of course, because you've never been in danger at Hogwarts before, have you? I suppose I must have imagined Voldemort possessing Professor Quirrell your first year, hmm? The basilisk was obviously a mass hallucination. And Crouch, Jr. wasn't a Death Eater in disguise. He was simply a poor, misguided soul who..."

"All right," Harry sighed. "You've made your point."

"Please do not interrupt and a bit more respect on your part might be circumspect," Severus said so coldly that Harry had to look away to hide his tears and sudden anxiety. Severus was so angry. He hadn't looked or spoken like that in so long that it caught Harry completely by surprise and even worse, it made him fear that he'd ruined everything, that Severus was right back to despising him and not wanting him.

"Do you realise that every professor is searching the castle for you? And now I have to notify them all that they've wasted an hour of valuable time because you couldn't be bothered to let anyone know your whereabouts," Severus continued relentlessly. "I have a good mind to have you explain and apologise."

Harry stared at the ground. "Yes, sir," he mumbled.

There was a moment of silence. Then Severus spun on his heel and started back to the castle. "Come along," he ordered tersely.

Neither of them spoke until they were back in the entrance hall. Harry fully expected Severus to call the other staff members and make him apologise for his carelessness, but the professor only snapped, "Go to your room and stay there until dinner."

Once he was back in his room, Harry sat on his bed, hugging his knees to his chest and feeling miserable. Leaving a note was such a simple thing. Why had he been so stupid and irresponsible? He hadn't meant to be. Truly he hadn't. Upsetting Severus was the last thing he wanted to do.

But he had been in such a hurry to get outside, he hadn't even remembered his father asking him to leave a note. Would Severus still be his father now? Surely he would. He wouldn't start hating Harry again because of one mistake, would he?

But what if he did?

That thought was so terrible and scary that Harry shoved it away. Because if Severus hated him again Harry didn't think he could go on. It would just hurt too much, even more than losing Sirius. Perhaps it would even be worse, because he would still have to live with Severus and be his slave. Oh, Severus wouldn't abuse him, even if he hated him. Harry wasn't worried about that, not really. But it would hurt so much to have to see the professor every day, and know what he had lost.

But that wouldn't happen. It couldn't happen.

Could it?

Because what in the world would he do then? Because he would always be Severus' slave. He couldn't leave and find another place to live, even if Severus didn't want him anymore.

Another thought occurred to him. He was a slave, a possession, magically bound to Severus. That was all true. But people could sell their possessions. Could Severus sell or give him away? Could there be a way to transfer the contract to someone else?

Probably not or else Severus would have done that back at the beginning of the summer, wouldn't he? But maybe not. Maybe Dumbledore or someone had told him not to because Voldemort had still been alive then and Harry had been safe at Prince Hall. It had probably been the safest place for him, apart from being under the blood wards at Privet Drive.

But now that Voldemort was gone and that Harry had ruined everything, would Severus want to be rid of him now? Was there a way? But that would be horrible. He didn't want to have to live with anyone else now.

Maybe if he apologised again, and tried to show Severus that he was really sorry, it would be all right. But what could he do to make up for this?

Harry hugged his knees closer, trying to ignore the gnawing anxiety and guilt in the pit of his stomach, struggled to come up with some idea.

He was still trying an hour later when there was a knock on the door and Severus called, "May I come in?"

Harry was a little startled that he still asked for his permission to enter, and his next thought was to wonder if the professor really did sound a bit calmer or if he were just imagining it.

He swallowed hard and answered in a subdued voice, "Yes, sir."

Severus opened the door and came to sit on the bed too. Harry instinctively started to flinch away, but made himself hold still. Severus wouldn't hurt him, he was pretty sure, and if the professor did decide to punish him in that way, it was no more than Harry deserved after all. He wouldn't act like a baby about it.

But he did need to apologise.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean to cause you any trouble, Severus."

The professor sighed and nodded, but didn't speak and Harry's heart sank. He stumbled over the painful words, "I'll try a lot harder, I promise. I know you probably don't want me now, and if you really hate me, maybe you could sell me to Dumbledore or something, but I promise I'll..."

"Harry, what the hell are you talking about?" Severus' voice was rough with emotion and he grabbed Harry by the shoulders. Now Harry couldn't help but flinch. An expression of shock and pain flickered across Severus' face and his eyes blazed.

Harry had to tear his gaze away to stare at the floor. He tried to turn away, but Severus held his shoulders firmly, though not hard enough to hurt.

The professor drew a ragged breath. "Harry, you are my son. You will always be my son. That will never change, no matter how upset or angry you and I might become with one another. Do you understand?"

Harry gave a tiny nod, but it didn't seem to convince Severus. He slid his arm around Harry's shoulders and pulled him close.

"I mean that, Harry, with all my heart. You are my son. I love you. I always will. Please believe me."

Harry turned and buried his face against Severus' shoulder. Immediately his father's arms twined around him, holding him close. Severus' fingers, strong yet gentle, began carding through his hair and Harry leaned against him, resting his head in the hollow between Severus' shoulder and collar bone, pressing his cheek to the soft fabric of Severus' shirt and feeling his father's solid warm chest underneath.

Severus bowed his head and whispered, "I love you so much, child," his lips ruffling Harry's hair as he spoke.

"I love you, too," Harry whispered.

Severus just hugged him for a while, then said, "It does seem that we have some issues to work through still. What was that ridiculous nonsense about my selling you to Dumbledore?"

"Oh." Harry felt his cheeks flame with embarrassment, but he tried to answer. "Well, you know, you were so angry. I thought I'd ruined everything and that maybe you didn't want to...you know...have me around anymore."

"I will always want to have you around," Severus emphasized softly.

"I just thought...I don't know," Harry whispered.

"Harry, we all make mistakes, and perhaps I over-reacted. I was frightened," Severus admitted in a low voice. "I told myself that you had likely just forgotten, but all I could think of was all the times you've been in danger before."

He was quiet for a long moment before continuing slowly. "And it was less than a month ago when you came very close to killing yourself. For a moment it seemed like that instant all over again, when I returned and couldn't find you, and then I realised what you were going to do..." he ran a hand through his hair and stopped speaking.

Harry looked up at him. "I'm sorry, Severus. But I won't do that again. I promised I wouldn't."

Severus brushed Harry's hair back from his forehead and lightly kissed his scar. "I will work on trusting your promise, and you will work on trusting mine, all right?"

Harry nodded and nestled close again.

Severus' arms tightened around him. "But Harry, I'm quite certain that your friend Ron Weasley has made mistakes and caused trouble from time to time. Have his parents ever cast him out or attempted to sell him?"

Harry shook his head. "But I'm a slave, and I started thinking that if you didn't want me anymore, you might could sell me or give me away, and I wondered..."

"Harry, don't ever talk about us like that again!" Severus sounded fierce, almost angry, and Harry looked at him uncertainly.

Severus' face was a mixture of pain, sorrow, and frustration. "How can I make you understand? Harry, you are not a slave to me. You are my child. I think I would die if I lost you. And the idea of selling you is horrific. Please tell me that you don't truly believe I could ever do such a thing."

Harry wished that he could take that part back, but it was too late. He looked away, tears blurring his vision.

Severus sighed and when he spoke again, his voice was heavy and sad. "You really think so poorly of yourself? You poor child. What have we done to you?"

Harry wanted to protest, but he didn't think he could speak without breaking down. He just held onto his father, burying his face against him again.

Severus hugged him close again for a long time before speaking again. "We haven't talked about the slavery spell lately. I thought we had dealt with the major issues, and I know it hurts you so I've avoided mentioning it. But perhaps that was a mistake on my part. I don't want to cause you any pain, but I do think we might need to discuss some things. Why don't we eat dinner down here tonight, and we'll talk?"

Harry wasn't sure at all that he really wanted to talk about the slavery spell, but finally he nodded. Severus smoothed his hair and then stood, pulling Harry to his feet as well.

"Come along, then. Let's order dinner."

He kept his arm around Harry as they headed into the parlour.