The end of term feast was usually a happy event at Hogwarts. Students and staff alike celebrated the close of another school year and the beginning of summer. For the past two years, though, the feast had been a solemn affair.

The year before had been bleak as Hogwarts mourned the loss of top student Cedric Diggory and feared the rumors of the Dark Lord's return. This year those rumors had been confirmed as truth, and though there was some lighthearted chatter and laughter, the overall mood was tense as people wondered what the upcoming months would bring.

Several students seemed especially somber; a small girl with long bushy brown hair, a lanky boy with freckles and flame-colored hair, another girl who bore a resemblance to him though her hair was a darker red and her few freckles were limited to a light sprinkling across her nose, and a nondescript boy with mousy hair and a mournful round face.

"We should have made him come," the bushy-haired girl murmured to no one in particular as she absent-mindedly used her fork to push food around on her plate.

"He wanted to be alone for a little while," the tall boy responded in a dull voice. "He'll come in a few minutes, Hermione."

"No, he won't," Hermione sighed. "We better take some food back for him, not that he'll eat it. Harry hasn't eaten enough to keep an owl alive ever since...well, you know." She ignored the fact that she herself had only had a few bites of dinner.

"I wish there was something we could do to help," Ginny said softly.

"If only Dumbledore would let Harry come to us over the summer," Ron exclaimed, his normal friendly tone sounding almost bitter. "I know we could help him. We'd sure be better than those awful Dursleys. Harry doesn't need to go back to them now. They're the last thing he needs."

"Why can't he stay with you?" Neville Longbottom asked. "What does Dumbledore have to do with it?"

"I'm not exactly sure," Ron admitted. "But Mum and Dad wanted Harry to stay with us last summer, after the Triwizard Tournament, you know. But they mentioned something about it in front of Dumbledore and he said Harry had to stay with his aunt and uncle. Mum got really upset with him, too, but then Dumbledore took them off alone and they talked for awhile, and when they came out, Mum and Dad said that Harry was going to come after his birthday, but that he couldn't come for the whole summer."

"There's got to be something someone can do," Hermione insisted after a minute. "Ron's right. Harry hates the Dursleys and having to go to them now, of all times...it'll be horrible for him. He needs to be with us."

"Well, Mum and Dad are going to have Harry come as soon as possible, Mum said by midnight on August 1st, so that's better than nothing," Ginny tried to sound encouraging, but only succeeded in sounding desperate.

The four friends stared at one another in hopeless sorrow before turning their attention back to their plates. No one spoke for the remainder of the feast.

Harry never joined them.

***

He almost did.

Harry didn't know how long he lingered in the entrance hall, debating whether he should go to his friends at the feast, find Luna and help her search for her lost belongings, or go back up to Gryffindor Tower and crawl into bed.

Or maybe he could find some lonely spot in the castle, curl up, and wait to die.

That idea had its merits. Harry was a little surprised at how often he'd been thinking of death the past few days; wondering what it would be like, imagining a reunion with Sirius and his parents, never having to worry about Voldemort and Death Eaters again...

But he couldn't die right now. He had to kill Voldemort first, because he was the only one who could, according to Dumbledore. Harry squeezed his eyes tightly shut, wishing there were a way he could escape the memories that had played constantly through his mind for the past week. When he wasn't seeing Sirius fall through the veil in the Department of Mysteries, a casualty of Harry's ignorance, then he was seeing Dumbledore's sorrowful face and hearing his quiet voice explaining about the prophecy.

The cursed prophecy that had cost Sirius his life, and had stolen Harry's only chance to have a parent figure and a real family, the prophecy that had marked Harry as either a victim or a murderer.

And while life seemed empty and dark right now...while Harry had never, ever wanted to kill anyone or even hurt them really, he knew he couldn't let Voldemort win. He crossed over to the arched doorway leading to the Great Hall and peered in.

The Hall was bright with hundreds of flickering candles suspended in mid-air, high above the students' heads. The enchanted ceiling was dark with night now, but there was a glowing three-quarter moon and twinkling stars, and there were flaming torches affixed to the stone walls between the high leaded windows.

The four long House tables were crowded with students, everyone wearing their black robes over their school uniforms and eating their fill of the sumptious foods piled high on silver platters. Voices filled the air, and occasional laughter, but at the same time, the mood seemed slightly ominous.

The professors sat at the staff table at the far end of the Hall, and many of them looked worried. Dumbledore, with his crimson robes embroidered with gold spangles and his long snowy hair and beard, was a bright spot among the faculty, most of whom wore black or brown though Professor McGonagall had a tartan shawl draped over her shoulders. Despite his dazzling clothes, Dumbledore looked grim and he wasn't eating at all, but talking quietly with Professor McGonagall who was listening intently.

At least Umbridge wasn't there, Harry thought with uncharacteristic smugness. But after all the torment Toad Lady had put him through over the past year, Harry thought he was justified in feeling a sense of satisfaction over her defeat.

Snape wasn't there either, and Harry wondered fleetingly if the Potions Master had been summoned to his duty as a spy against Voldemort. Remembering how Snape had sneered at him when Harry had tried to tell him about his vision of Sirius, as well as all the other cruelties the professor inflicted on him, Harry decided that he didn't really care about Snape's welfare.

Dismissing thoughts of his hated professor, Harry searched among the faces at the Gryffindor table until he found his closest friends. Life wasn't completely empty, he reminded himself. He still had Hermione and Ron, and Ginny and the other Weasleys, too. He had other friends, like Neville and Luna, who had risked their own lives to help him. A warm feeling slowly spread through him as he watched. His friends, the only family he would ever have now.

He started to go to them, but then he thought of how it would be...Hermione would heap food on his plate and lecture him about not eating or sleeping enough, Ron and Ginny would go on about how they would miss him and how they wished he could go to the Burrow with them, as if he had any choice in the matter. That would make him think of the Dursleys and the long hard summer ahead, which Harry was trying not to think of. They would all try too hard to cheer him up, talking about Quidditch or harmless school gossip, and Harry would have to try to look as if he were interested because he didn't want to hurt them.

Suddenly, it just seemed impossible to summon up the energy to deal with all that.

Harry turned and headed for the stairs. He would go back to the Tower and go to bed. If he were lucky, perhaps he could sleep tonight...a deep dreamless sleep that would last the entire summer, preferably.

He was almost to the stairs when he heard a soft sound behind him and something made him spin around. Apparently he and Luna weren't the only students who had decided to skip the feast. A tall blond boy with grey eyes had stepped into the entrance hall from the corridor that led down to the dungeons.

"Potter!" He hissed. "I'm surprised to see you without your bodyguards."

"That's rich, Malfoy, coming from you. Where are those lumbering goons you call friends?" Harry responded. Before Draco could answer, he went on, "Oh, I know. They must have scented food and their little pea-sized brains couldn't retain any other thoughts."

"I've been waiting for this moment. Just you and me. It's your fault my father's in Azkaban, and you're going to pay!" Draco's eyes glittered with contained fury as he whipped out his wand and pointed it at Harry.

Harry didn't recognize the incantation the other boy shouted, but he reacted instantaneously, throwing up a Shield Charm and then rapidly sending a Jelly-Legs jinx back at his opponent.

Draco's legs immediately began jerking and twitching but he ignored them, already beginning to say another hex, when a third figure joined them. The man who stepped out of the shadowy alcove by the stairs was lean, with pale skin and hair as black as a raven's wing. He wore black robes trimmed with emerald and silver braid, and his dark boots glided silently over the stone floor as he approached the boys. It was difficult to guess his age. He moved with the lithe grace of young man, but his face was lined with bitter experience.

Life had never been kind to Severus Snape.

"Hexing another student, Potter?" His voice was cool, but his obsidian eyes blazed. "That's clearly against Hogwarts' rules. Ten points from Gryffindor. If you weren't leaving tomorrow, I'd give you detention as well. But there's always next year. Mr. Malfoy, remind me that Potter owes me a detention when we return in the fall." He waved his wand at Draco and the blond boy was released from the Jelly-Legs jinx.

Harry glared furiously, but he didn't bother arguing. It wouldn't change anything. Snape never listened to Harry's side. For that matter, he never believed Harry had a side. He could probably watch Draco hex Harry and still find a way to make it Harry's fault.

Without a word, Harry turned his back on both Snape and Malfoy and took another step towards the stairs. Snape watched him go, a triumphant gleam in his eyes. Neither of them noticed Draco raise his wand again and mutter a low incantation.

The curse hit Harry squarely in the middle of his back. He lost consciousness, and slumped forward, his glasses clattering against the stone floor. Harry would have taken a nasty fall if Snape hadn't sprung forward and caught him.

The professor stared down at Harry in amazement for a second, as if he couldn't believe he was holding Harry Potter in his arms. Then he looked up at Draco. His voice was cold as ice.

"What in Merlin's name have you done, Draco? What spell was that?"

Draco's face was a mixture of surprise, trepidation, and sullen anger.

"I don't exactly know," he admitted.

"You don't exactly know?" Severus' voice was sharp. He shot Draco an incredulous look, but there was no time for expounding on the stupidity of casting an unknown spell, not when it could be wreaking havoc on Potter's mind or body.

Potter seemed peaceful enough, it was true, just lying in Severus' arms, his breathing deep and even, but they had to find out for sure.

Severus gave the blond boy his fiercest glare. "If you value your life, Draco, you will fetch Pomfrey and Dumbledore from the feast, and you will tell them what you've done. I'm taking Potter to the infirmary."

Without sparing Draco another glance, he swept off to a small barren room nearby where there was a fireplace connected to Hogwarts' internal Floo system. A moment later he and Potter were in the infirmary, a sterile white place: white walls, white sheets on the narrow beds, and white curtains at the windows.

Severus laid the boy on the nearest cot and then pulled his wand from his sleeve and began running through some diagnostic spells. He hadn't gotten very far when there was a whooshing sound behind him as the Floo roared to life again. Severus didn't bother turning around, but kept on with his work as Poppy Pomfrey and Albus Dumbledore rushed to join him.

"How is he?" Albus asked in an uncharacteristically tense voice.

Severus shook his head. "Nothing seems seriously wrong. He's underweight and suffering a bit from sleep deprivation, but there's nothing that accounts for this deep unconsciousness."

Poppy was bustling about, running through her own diagnostic spells, and Albus moved closer to Potter's bedside and joined in. For a while the three of them worked over Potter, checking everything from his heart rate to his brain waves. Finally they stepped aside and looked at one another.

Poppy spoke up, "So far as I can tell, Harry seems to be in fairly good health. As Severus noted, he needs to eat and sleep more. But whatever spell Draco cast, it doesn't seem to have caused any injury." She looked slightly bewildered. "I don't know why he's unconscious. I'm going to spell a nutritive potion directly into his system, but I don't know what else to do."

Albus ran a gentle hand through Potter's dark hair before turning away.

"I think it's time I spoke with Mr. Malfoy." His voice was grim. "Severus, you're his Head of House. Would you like to be present as well?"

"Yes, I suppose so." Severus nodded.

Albus turned to the medi-witch. "Poppy, will you let Minerva know what has happened? And ask her to keep quiet about it as well." He hesitated; then said, "On second thought, she may tell Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger. Otherwise, they're liable to break through my gargoyles to tell me Harry's missing. But she must stress to them to keep this information to themselves. I think the fewer people know about this, the better."

"Of course, Albus," Poppy agreed. She Summoned the nutritive potion and Albus and Severus went over to the fireplace while she was tending to Potter.

Severus took some Floo powder from a jar on the mantle and Albus called, "My office," as he stepped into the grate. Severus followed and after a rush of green flames, he was in the headmaster's office. It was a spacious circular room with a great mahogany desk, a couple of stuffed armchairs, several spindle-legged tables with silver contraptions atop them, and a bronze stand upon which a magnificent red and gold feathered bird was perched.

Severus had half expected Draco to be waiting for them, but the room was empty. Albus sank into one of the armchairs and motioned for Severus to take the other one.

"Severus, Draco has told me his version of events, but I'd like to hear it from you, please," Albus requested.

So Severus told him how he had been keeping an eye on Potter, how the boy had vacillated about going into the Hall for the feast, but had finally started for the stairs, but not in time to avoid the confrontation with Draco. He explained about the duel he had interrupted and finished with telling of how Draco's last shot had knocked Harry out and how Severus had caught the boy and taken him to the infirmary after sending Draco for help.

He tried to sound as objective as possible, though he knew some of his dislike for Potter bled through, as well as his sympathy for Draco. Not that he condoned what young Malfoy had done. Severus had no patience with stupidity, for one thing, and for another, he couldn't help feeling concerned about Potter, no matter his personal feelings for the boy. Without Potter to defeat the Dark Lord, they were all doomed. And he was just slightly worried about the boy himself. Potter was one of the children in Severus' care, after all, even if he was a spoiled, conceited little princeling who needed to be put in his place.

Draco, on the other hand, had to deal with an abusive father and a mother who didn't care two Knuts for him. They showered Draco with all the material goods he could want, but never gave him one moment of what he truly craved: their affection and approval.

Severus understood exactly what the boy suffered, even how Draco tended to lash out at others and isolate himself, not allowing himself to grow close to any one, to develop friendships that might have helped to soothe his anger and hurt, but would also leave him vulnerable to more rejection and pain.

Oh, yes, Severus understood Draco.

Albus listened to the tale in silence, only nodding once when Severus had finished and then going to open the door to his office, saying, "Draco is supposed to be waiting in the hall outside. I'll let him in."

A minute later he had returned with the blond boy in tow. Draco looked at Severus as he followed the headmaster in, and in that moment he was a frightened child. Severus felt a pang of compassion for him, but he kept his face impassive. There would have to be serious consequences for the boy's actions, and Severus couldn't shield him from them.

Albus took his chair behind his desk this time and simply stared at Draco with a stern, disappointed look. Any hint of vulnerability on Draco's part had vanished and he stared back with his chin lifted defiantly.

Albus broke the silent standoff. "We need to know the spell you used, Mr. Malfoy."

"Well, Professor, I've used a dozen spells today. Which one in particular are you referring to?" Draco drawled.

"This is not the time to play games, Mr. Malfoy," Albus' voice was like ice. "If you are not honest and forthcoming with me, I have no compunction about bringing Aurors into this situation. As you are close to being of age, and as the crime you have committed is against a rather famous and well-liked person, I have no doubts that the Ministry would treat you as an adult and send you to Azkaban."

"Crime?" Draco faltered. Just for an instant, his façade cracked. "Potter's all right, isn't he? He's not dead or anything..."

"Mr. Potter is expected to make a full recovery," Albus answered. "But casting an unknown spell against another person is most definitely a crime."

"Not to mention an incredibly stupid thing to do," Severus muttered.

"Now, I'll ask one more time, what was that spell?" Albus' face and voice were controlled but dangerous. Severus couldn't remember ever seeing him truly angry with a student before, and he couldn't help feeling a little relieved that that piercing gaze and cold tone weren't directed at him. It occurred to him that as terrible as Voldemort was, Albus Dumbledore could be even more frightening if he chose.

Draco must have been thinking along those same lines, for he grew pale and when he spoke, his voice was quiet and no longer insolent.

"I really don't know what the spell was."

"Say the incantation," Albus ordered.

Draco said the words, but they were unfamiliar to Severus. He shook his head slightly when Albus turned a questioning glance at him.

"I believe it's an ancient form of Latin, but I'm not sure," Albus murmured before returning his full attention to the blond boy standing in front of his desk. "Where did you learn this spell?"

"It's in a book...from the library at home. My father taught me a couple of other spells from it before, but they just caused boils or this really bad rash, but nothing that couldn't be cleared up pretty quick," Draco told them.

"Where is this book now?" Severus demanded.

"Here, in my trunk in the dorm," Draco turned to him. "Professor, couldn't...?"

"We need the book," Severus interrupted. He stood. "If you agree, Albus, I will accompany Mr. Malfoy to his room and retrieve it."

Albus nodded, but didn't take his gaze off Draco. "I hope you comprehend the seriousness of your actions, Mr. Malfoy. As I said, Mr. Potter will recover, but that spell could just as easily have been fatal or permanently debilitating. If that had been the case, there would be no way to fix things, to make everything right again. And you would most certainly be facing a trial and, very likely, a long prison sentence. I haven't decided yet what your punishment will be, but you may consider yourself on probation for the rest of your time at Hogwarts."

He nodded at Severus, who motioned for Draco to precede him out of the office and down the winding staircase to the hall.

Once they were alone in the corridors, making their way back to the Slytherin dormitories, Draco exploded.

"How dare he speak to me like that? Maybe I won't even bother coming back here, I'll apply to Durmstrang..."

"Durmstrang won't take you," Severus told him bluntly. "There's a new headmaster there now, and he's trying to shake Durmstrang's association with the Dark Arts. The Malfoy name would be a hindrance, not an asset. I doubt even your considerable fortune would be enough to get you admitted."

Draco fell into a sullen silence and when they reached the dormitory he fetched the book and handed it over without saying a word.

Severus had him mark the page where he'd found the spell, and then frowned at him. "You are to stay here for the rest of night, and there had best not be any more trouble, Draco. You're on thin ice."

He left Draco alone, the other Slytherins were likely still feasting upstairs, and quickly Flooed back to Albus' office. They examined the book together.

It was obviously a very old book, its covers were worn and cracked with age, and it was impossible to even tell their original colour. They had faded to an indistinct muddy greenish-brown, and the pages were handwritten rather than typed.

The script inside was tiny and cramped...rather like Granger's handwriting, Severus thought dryly, though he had to admit that hers was considerably neater. Albus raised one hand and several books came flying from the shelves to land in a precise stack on his desk.

The headmaster sighed. "This is ancient Latin, and I fear it will take some time to translate. Fortunately, I do have some texts on archaic languages, but it will likely take me hours, perhaps even days, to figure out. Severus, if you wish to retire for the evening, go ahead. There's no need for both of us to lose sleep."

"Very well, Albus, if you're sure there's nothing I can do to help," Severus agreed.

"In the morning, you could notify the Dursleys that their nephew will be delayed at school for a brief while, and that we will provide transportation for him back to Privet Drive when he is able to travel," Albus said.

Severus nodded and left his old friend and mentor's office. For some unexplained reason, he felt compelled to go by the infirmary and check on Potter again. Poppy informed him that there was no change in the boy's condition and Severus could, in fact, see that for himself. Potter was still lying on the bed, pale and unconscious. Poppy had transfigured his clothes into pyjamas and he was covered up to his waist by the white cotton sheets.

Granger and Weasley were with him now, too. Obviously, Minerva had already informed them of their friend's plight. They didn't notice Severus. They were too busy fussing over Potter, and the Potions professor left before they saw him. The last thing he wanted tonight was more teenage angst and drama. Thank goodness it was almost summer and he would have two blissful months of peace and quiet.

***

In his office, Albus Dumbledore used his translation books to study the mysterious spell that had been cast on Harry Potter, his face growing ever more grim as he read.

Severus Apparated to a point just outside Hogwarts' gates and made his way slowly up to the castle. The noon sun beat down heavily on his head, and he had to squint against the brightness. It was an unusually warm day, even for this time of year, and Severus thought wryly that his long-sleeved dark shirt and dark trousers, which would be perfectly comfortable in the cool dungeons, were not the best choice of clothing to wear outside.

He had left off the black robes he normally wore over his shirts and trousers. Though he himself was a half-blood, he had spent most of his childhood and youth trying to impress pure-blooded wizards; first his overbearing, tyrannical grandfather with his almost fanatical pride, and then his Slytherin housemates at school.

Pretentious snobs, most of them, who looked down their aristocratic noses at Muggle attire. Oh, they wore Muggle-style clothing, but always with proper wizarding robes on top. Most of the purebloods he had known in his youth would have been just as scandalized at the idea of going without robes as they would have been if someone had suggested they venture out in their underwear.

That notion seemed to be changing with the younger generation, Severus had noticed. Even some of the most supercilious pureblooded students often went about in Muggle fashions on the weekends at school. He doubted that they did at home, though.

Or perhaps they did. Certainly not all purebloods, or all Slytherins for that matter, were prejudiced against Muggle ways. Severus had just been unfortunate enough to know many who were.

On the other hand, if most Muggles were like the ones he'd had to deal with that morning, he wasn't sure he could blame the purebloods who despised them. Potter's relatives had most definitely not been what he'd expected.

Some of the Muggle families were uncomfortable around wizards...the reason he'd left his robes behind and had worn only the shirt and trousers...but Severus had never seen any other student's relatives act the way the Dursleys had when he'd paid them a visit, with that odd combination of fear and utter disdain. They hadn't seemed the slightest bit concerned about Potter either. The big beefy man had even stated that they would be better off without him, while the horse-faced Petunia (it was impossible to think of her as Lily's sister) had wanted to know why ‘that school' didn't offer summer courses.

Because we professors need a break from teaching the dunderheads, that's why, Severus thought crossly. But he couldn't help but see that the Dursleys were not the adoring Potter fans he'd always believed them to be. They doted on that whale of a son, though. Severus remembered the cousin from Potter's memories during Occlumency lessons. He'd only glimpsed him today. The boy had taken one look at Severus and fled upstairs with a speed that was surprising in one so large.

Severus smirked at the memory. It was good to get in a last opportunity to intimidate one of the spoiled brats before settling down to enjoy the summer. All the students should have left Hogwarts an hour ago, and Severus looked forward to a quiet afternoon. He'd probably indulge himself with reading the rare book he'd purchased in Flourish and Blotts after his visit to the Dursleys. It was a copy of Clemente Romano's journal; Clemente Romano, who had been a legendary Healer and Potions Master in the Middle Ages and had created many of the medicinal potions still in use today, though later Potions Masters had improved upon some of them, Severus himself among them.

But before he settled down to read, perhaps he should check to see if Albus needed him. After all, not all of the students had left the castle that morning. Potter still lay unconscious in the infirmary, unless he'd woken up within the past couple hours. So far as Severus knew, Albus was still holed up in his office poring over the translations texts, trying to decipher the meaning of Draco's spell.

Severus paused in the entrance hall and then turned to go up to the headmaster's office, rather than head straight for the dungeons. He gave the password to the gargoyles and stepped onto the revolving staircase. A moment later he knocked on the oak door and heard Albus call for him to enter.

The venerable old wizard was seated at his desk, with several open books spread before him, as well as a piece of parchment upon which he'd apparently been scrawling notes.

"I just wanted to see if you needed my help with anything, Albus," Severus told him.

"Thank you, Severus. That's most kind of you." Albus gave him a small smile, though Severus thought he looked tired and troubled. "I believe I'm all right at the moment, but I may need you later. Are you planning to leave for Prince Hall today?"

"I had intended to leave after dinner tonight, but I can always stay here for a few extra days, if you wish."

Albus pursed his lips as he considered the offer. Finally he shook his head. "Thank you, again, for offering, but I don't believe it will be necessary, as long as I can get in touch with you at the Hall."

"Well, I have no plans to go anywhere else, unless of course..." Severus' voice trailed off as he held up his left forearm. The one branded with Voldemort's dark mark.

"Of course." Albus nodded. "I assume you're on your way back from seeing the Dursleys?"

Albus' tone was just a little too innocent. Severus had no doubt that the headmaster knew that Severus had had to realise his preconceptions about Potter's family were wrong. Not that Severus intended to admit it aloud.

He gave a noncommittal shrug. "Yes, I delivered the message and then stopped by Flourish and Blotts. A book I ordered had come in."

"Wonderful, Severus. Just in time for the beginning of summer, too." Apparently Albus wasn't going to push the issue of Potter's relatives.

"Have you made any progress?" Severus asked.

At once, Albus grew somber. "Some, but I think I need to do more research before taking any action."

"Very well. I'll be in my rooms if you should need me for anything."

But instead of asking to use the fireplace to Floo down to the dungeons, Severus left the way he'd come...down the staircase and past the gargoyle guardians. Of course, he could have used the Floo to go to the infirmary, too, but he hadn't wanted to announce his destination in front of Albus. Not that his old friend would have minded...knowing Albus, he'd probably guessed where Severus was headed, anyway. Still, there was such a thing as preserving his image...

Potter's condition was unchanged, and Poppy was rather worried about him, even though she admitted that he seemed fairly healthy.

"I hope Albus will figure out that spell soon," she fussed as she and Severus stood by Potter's bed.

"He said he'd made some progress," Severus assured her.

"I hope so." She glanced down at Potter in concern. "He seems well enough, but this coma disturbs me, Severus. I don't like to see him like this. I don't like not knowing what to do."

"I'm surprised you managed to pry Weasley and Granger away from his side," Severus remarked, mostly to distract her from her fretting.

Poppy rolled her eyes, but her face softened at the mention of Potter's friends. "It wasn't easy, believe me. In fact, Albus himself had to come up and promise them that Harry wasn't in danger and that we would notify them at once as soon as he awoke."

"Albus spoils them," Severus muttered. "All three of them."

"Oh, Severus, they're good children. I wish you could see that."

Severus shrugged. "Incidentally, Poppy, I have something that might interest you." He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a tiny object. A flick of his wand later, the black leather-bound book had returned to its original size. He held it out.

Poppy thumbed through the journal, her face alight with interest. "This is Romano's journal?"

"Not the original, of course," Severus remarked dryly.

Poppy smirked at him, then returned to examining the book. "But this is fascinating. I've always been interested in his work. Healers today are still using his potions, and his work against Dark curses is legendary."

She looked up sharply. "I wonder if Albus could use this to help Harry..."

"Albus has his own copy," Severus replied. "Anyway, you're welcome to borrow it once I've read it, if you'd like."

"I would love to," She handed the book back to him. "Thank you."

Severus shrank the book and tucked it back into his pocket. "Before I go, Poppy, I wondered if I might borrow something from you? I'd like to read through Potter's medical records."

Poppy shot him a look. "Very shrewd, Severus. Dangling Romano's journal in front of me before asking for records that are supposed to stay in my keeping."

Severus' lips quirked upwards, which was as close to smiling as he ever came. "Well, I am a Slytherin."

"Why do you want to see Harry's records?"

Severus considered. He himself wasn't entirely sure why he wanted to. Finally he said, "I paid a visit to his relatives this morning, and they were not quite what I expected. Let's just say I wish to satisfy my curiosity."

He noticed that the medi-witch had made a face at the mention of the Dursleys and asked, "What do you know about them, Poppy?"

"Nothing definite," she admitted. "Harry's very close-mouthed about them. But he always returns to Hogwarts in worse condition than he leaves."

It was Severus' turn to frown. He might not like Potter, but as a staff member, he had an obligation to protect all the children at the school. They all did.

"And you've never mentioned your suspicions to Albus?" His voice was sharp.

Poppy's voice was equally sharp. "What do you think, Severus? Of course I have. I've gone to Albus every year since Harry was eleven."

He nodded. "I apologise, Poppy. Of course you would have. And Albus does nothing?"

"He looks very grieved, but he just says the situation is complicated and it has to be this way." Poppy took a deep breath and sighed. "I suppose I could let you see the records, but I'll need them back before you leave Hogwarts."

"Thank you, Poppy."

Severus dined on sandwiches and fruit salad for lunch, and spent the rest of the afternoon seated on his favorite stuffed chair, reading. First, Potter's records, and then his book. Intriguing as Romano's journal was, though, he found his thoughts kept returning to Potter.

The boy had always been seriously underweight when he returned to Hogwarts in the fall, malnourished even, and more than once, Poppy had noted suspicious bruises on his arms, but Potter had always had some explanation. Not very good explanations, in Severus' opinion, but beyond going to Albus, there wasn't much Poppy could do, especially since Potter himself denied being ill-treated.

But why hadn't Albus done something? That was what Severus couldn't understand. He'd never known Albus to stand back and do nothing while a child was abused. The headmaster had always done whatever was necessary to protect the children. And Potter was one of his favorites. It simply didn't make any sense.

For that matter, how had Severus himself missed the signs all those years? He'd always thought that he kept such a close watch over the boy. But somehow he'd never seen the hints of abuse. Maybe because he hadn't wanted to see?

When the clock on the mantel chimed six o'clock, Severus went to prepare for dinner. He rather wished he were already at his own home, Prince Hall, but Albus did like for the staff to celebrate one last farewell dinner before going their separate ways for the holidays.

A few stayed on at Hogwarts, Albus himself was one of them, but many of the faculty went away for at least part of the summer, and this would be the last occasion they met as a group before the end of August.

Oh, well, Severus supposed he didn't really mind. While he was certainly not very sociable, he did respect many of his colleagues; he was even fond of one or two, and he could count on Albus, Minerva, and Poppy for stimulating conversation. It was odd how two of his closest friends, if one could call them that, were Gryffindors. He couldn't abide any of the youngsters from that foolhardy House. Perhaps Gryffindors improved with age, if they survived that long.

After dinner, which was delicious, and Albus' farewell speech, which was tedious, Severus returned Potter's medical records to Poppy and made his way over to his old friend.

"Albus, could I speak with you in private for a moment before I go?"

"Of course, Severus. Let's Floo back to my office, shall we?" Albus led the way to the nearby chamber where there was a fireplace and they Flooed to his office.

Severus glanced over at the desk, still covered in books and parchment. "How's your research coming along?"

"I'm still working on it," Albus replied quietly.

"I hope you're getting enough rest. As far as I know, you've been working almost non-stop since yesterday evening. You need to sleep at some point, Albus," Severus told him.

Albus nodded. "Yes, I think I'm going to bed shortly and resume my work in the morning. I'm just very anxious to get Harry up and about again."

"Speaking of Potter, I want to know..." Severus began.

Albus interrupted. "You want to know why I have allowed him to remain with the Dursleys in spite of their abusive ways."

"It isn't like you, Albus." Severus said.

Albus looked away for a moment, and when he turned back to face Severus, the Potions Master thought that he had never seen his mentor look so old or so sad.

"Believe it or not, Severus, it is for Harry's own protection." Albus explained about the blood wards protecting Harry from Voldemort and his Death Eaters, how he grieved over sending the boy back each year, but how he reluctantly decided each time that it was the safest alternative.

Severus sighed. "I don't know, Albus. Merlin knows, I can't abide the brat, but it seems like something else could be worked out."

Albus gave him a long, considering look...a look that Severus didn't understand and didn't like.

"Well, if this spell does what I think it does, Harry won't be going back to Privet Drive again, anyway."

"Oh?" Severus raised an eyebrow. "And what, pray tell, does the spell do?"

But Albus shook his head. "Not now, Severus. I still have a few more things to check out, and as you pointed out, I need to rest tonight. And you're eager to be back at Prince Hall, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am," Severus admitted. "All right, then, Albus. I'm leaving. You can keep your secrets. May I use your Floo?"

Albus nodded and after the younger man had vanished, he stared after him, his expression growing sorrowful again.

"Oh, but Severus, I don't think it can be kept a secret from you and Harry much longer."

***

Norie and Zan were waiting when Severus stepped out of the fireplace and into his upstairs sitting room at Prince Hall. In spite of himself, Severus' features softened at the sight of the two elderly house-elves, both of them looking ridiculously alike, with their woolen tunics, soft white hair, and big blue eyes.

"Oh, Master Severus, we've been waiting and waiting for you," Norie scolded, even as she practically hopped up and down in her excitement at seeing him again.

"I needed to speak with Albus for a few minutes after the dinner, if that was all right with you, Norie," Severus answered. But he didn't say it with any rancor. He'd known the pair of house elves since childhood, since he and his mother had returned to her ancestral home after she'd left his father.

They'd returned to the scorn and anger of Severus' grandfather, too. Jeremiah Prince had never forgiven his only child, Eileen, for marrying a Muggle...and a poor, slovenly one at that. Severus himself had always wondered what his mother had seen in Tobias Snape. If their positions had been reversed, if Tobias had been the wizard, he'd have suspected his father of resorting to a love potion, but why Eileen would have wanted to trick herself into becoming infatuated with a dirty, drunken man who could never be part of her world was beyond Severus' comprehension.

He suspected that she'd mainly wanted to escape her overbearing father, but that didn't really explain why she'd chosen Tobias Snape. While not a great beauty, she hadn't been ugly, and she'd had the advantages of wealth and a good name. She could have chosen a more appropriate suitor.

But Severus had given up trying to understand it years ago. His parents were the only ones who could have told him, and Eileen had been dead for years now. Not that she'd been very communicative when she'd been alive, either.

And he hadn't seen Tobias Snape since the day he was ten years old, and his father had beaten both him and his mother until they were unconscious. That incident had been the final straw in a miserable union. Eileen had finally swallowed her pride enough to ask her father's permission to come home.

Jeremiah probably would have denied her, too, if it hadn't been for Severus. Not that the old wizard had had any compassion for his grandson; no, Jeremiah Prince was as cold and unfeeling as a stone. But he was proud, and he wanted an heir, an heir with Prince blood, even if not pure-blood.

But, during all of those troubled years, Norie and Zan had been a bright spot for Severus. For years, they had been the only ones who truly cared for him. They'd known about his trials and triumphs at school; they'd celebrated with him when he'd achieved his Potions Mastery degree; they'd grieved when he became a Death Eater, and had rejoiced when he'd left Voldemort. They had helped him pick up the pieces of his life and move on.

They were the closest thing Severus had to a family.

"We worried that you might have had a change of plans, Master Severus," Zan said solemnly.

"He hasn't called for a time, Zan, although now that he doesn't have to hide his return, I might have to become more active," Severus sank down into an easy chair and tried not to think about what the upcoming months would bring. Voldemort was on the rise, and the boy who was the only one with a chance of defeating him lay unconscious in the Hogwarts' infirmary. It was enough to give Severus a headache.

He gratefully accepted the glass of wine Norie brought him.

"We are wishing you didn't have to spy anymore, Master Severus," the little house-elf said anxiously. "Zan and I hate to see you come back from those horrible meetings in such pain. We are scared for you."

"There's no reason to worry, Norie. Nothing's going to happen to me. I'm much too mean to die. Ask any of my students."

Norie's expression changed slightly. Although she still looked concerned, there was a sly gleam in her eyes. "Speaking of youngsters, Master Severus, it's high time you was looking for a wife and thinking about having children of your own."

Severus prided himself on his ability to remain cool and collected under extreme circumstances, but at those words, he almost choked on his wine.

"Norie, I have absolutely no desire to marry or have children. It's bad enough I have to spend ten months of the year teaching the little idiots." He gave her his fiercest glare.

She remained unperturbed. "Well, Zan and I worry about you being alone, Master Severus. We is getting old, you know, and won't be around forever. You is needing a family of your own."

Before he could argue, she bustled out of the room, leaving Zan gazing at him with his huge somber blue eyes.

"Norie is right, Master Severus. It's not good for you to be alone."

Severus sighed. "I assure you, Zan, I am quite satisfied with my own company."

He expected the house-elf to argue, but Zan only stared at him and then turned to follow Norie.

Severus spent the next two days happily puttering around Prince Hall. He began a new potion, read the book on Clemente Romano, and walked around the gardens for an hour after lunch. He even spent a little time pondering Potter's fate, but decided that he would leave matters to Albus.

Thankfully, the Dark Mark on his arm remained inactive, and he was beginning to hope that perhaps he could actually have some time this summer just to enjoy himself, when a great tawny owl brought a message from Albus after breakfast on his third morning at home.

"Is everything all right, Master Severus?" Norie asked as she gathered up his plate and utensils to take back to the kitchen.

"I think so, Norie. It's from Albus. He needs to see me so I'll be at Hogwarts for a while today. It's probably about the Potter brat."

Norie frowned at him. "Really, Master Severus, he's only a child."

"Yes, a bratty child. You've never met him, Norie, so you don't know."

"I know he's got enough of a burden to carry without you making things more difficult for him," she retorted, and left the room, levitating the breakfast things before her.

Severus shook his head, partly in amusement and partly in exasperation. That was Norie's way, to get in the last word and then take off before he could contradict her.

He pushed back his chair, got some Floo powder from a small jar on the dining room mantle, and left for Hogwarts.

Albus met him in the entrance hall and escorted him back up to the headmaster's office.

"You know, Albus, I don't think I've spent so much time in your office since sixth-year," Severus remarked.

Albus smiled, but his eyes remained grave. "Have you had a pleasant time at Prince Hall, Severus?"

"Pleasant enough," Severus sat in the chair Albus indicated and waited as the headmaster sat down opposite him. "All right, Albus. Just tell me what's going on. This is about Potter and that spell, isn't it?"

"Yes," Albus agreed, but then he fell quiet for a few minutes before saying, "Humor me, please, Severus, and tell me again exactly what happened when Draco cursed Harry."

"It knocked Potter out. I caught him before he fell, and then..."

"You're certain that you were the first one to touch Harry after the spell hit him?" Albus demanded.

Severus nodded. "Yes."

"Well, there is no easy way to tell you this, Severus, and it will be even harder to tell Harry." Albus looked uncharacteristically agitated. He reached for a book and some parchment and handed them to Severus. "Perhaps you should read it for yourself. This is the Malfoy book and my notes translating the spell."

Severus read in silence for a few minutes. Then he read again, and again.

Finally he looked up. "This is impossible."

"I'm very much afraid it is possible," Albus replied. "Harry is enslaved to you, Severus."

Severus stared at him in speechless horror for a long moment. It was one of the rare times in his life that words eluded him. Visions rose in his mind; himself and Potter bound by some archaic spell for the rest of their lives, having to bring the boy to his home, never having a respite from the brat's irritating presence...

Then another thought occurred to him and he glared at his old friend. "Oh, very good, Albus. You got me. I'll admit that was one of your better pranks. Now, what's this really about?"

But Albus was already shaking his head, still looking very troubled. "Severus, I wish it were a joke. But I'm afraid it isn't. The spell is actually quite straightforward and easy to understand once it's been translated. It's an enslavement spell that binds its victim to the first person who touches him, or her, after being cast. You were the first person to touch Harry after the spell hit him, so Harry is now your slave."

Severus leaped from his chair, scattering pieces of parchment and the Malfoy book in his wake. "Well, you just find a way to undo this, Albus! Because if anyone thinks for one moment that I'm going to..."

"Severus, I have spent the past three days desperately searching for a way to undo the spell," Albus' voice was quiet, but it commanded attention. "And I will continue to search. But I have to tell you, that at this point, I doubt I'll find anything. The book," he indicated the text lying open on the floor. "is ancient. We have precious few materials left from that era, and I've never seen anything that mentions any type of slavery curse or a counter to one. Not for a slavery spell that applies to wizards."

Severus stalked around the room, trying not to succumb to the raging panic that threatened to overwhelm him. There had to be some way out of this. He just had to remain calm and think logically, and a solution would present itself. It had to.

He stopped and turned back to the headmaster. "Wake Potter up, Albus, and I'll simply give him a pair of socks or a tie, and then we'll be done with this ridiculous..."

"I don't think that will work, Severus," Albus interrupted. "This spell is different from the magic that binds house elves, and I doubt that giving Harry clothes would free him. In fact, I do believe that there is something in the book that mentions the master being responsible for providing for all basic needs, including clothing."

He Summoned the book and his notes, and read through them for a minute before nodding. "Yes, here it is."

"Well, why don't we..." Severus began.

Albus shook his head. "We can't just randomly experiment, Severus. It could kill Harry. You see, when you caught him, the spell accepted you as his master. There is a magical contract binding you and Harry, and if we're unsuccessful in trying to free him, then the magic might interpret it as Harry attempting to escape. The book is very clear on the conditions of slavery. If the slave tries to escape or to physically harm the master, the magic will kill him instantly."

Severus stared at him in silence. His tumultuous feelings gelled into a kind of horrified weariness. He walked back to his chair and sank down into it.

"Tell me everything you know about this spell, Albus."

***

Harry Potter lay sleeping peacefully in his bed in the infirmary while Albus, Severus, and Poppy stood gathered in a huddle nearby. It was late afternoon. Albus and Severus had spent most of the day discussing the specific conditions of the slavery spell and making preparations. Now it was time to wake Potter and destroy his life.

"But if he's going to wake up, Albus, I'll need to be here, to make sure he's all right," the medi-witch argued.

"Harry should be fine when he wakes, Poppy," the headmaster told her.

A few minutes later is when we'll need to worry. Severus thought dryly. He was surprised to discover that he felt an ounce of pity as he looked over at the boy's small form. As upsetting as the news had been to him, it would be much, much worse for Potter. Severus, at least, still had his freedom...if one could consider being chained to Potter for life freedom.

He realised that Albus was still speaking. "Poppy, I assure you, there's no reason to worry. Harry will be fine. Now, you go on and wait in my office, and Severus will be along in a few minutes to explain."

He and Severus had agreed that the enslavement spell should be kept secret from as many people as possible, but Poppy was an exception. She knew all of Potter's medical history, and as Severus now had custody and complete responsibility for the boy, she would need to notify him if Potter needed her care during the next school year.

Poppy looked from one to the other and then sighed. "Oh, all right, then."

She Flooed away, and then Albus pulled a sheaf of parchment and a quill from the pockets of his silvery robes.

"Right then, Severus, you wake Harry, and then step of sight. I'll get him to sign the paper and then give it to you. You take it to my office, sign it, and explain the situation to Poppy. I'll bring Harry as soon as I can."

Severus knew then that in spite of his outward calm demeanor, Albus must be feeling anxious. He didn't usually go over plans aloud once they'd already been settled.

Severus gestured towards the parchment. "He's going to feel like you've betrayed him, Albus, once he learns what that paper is. Perhaps I should be the one to get him to sign it."

"I doubt he'd sign it for you, Severus, whereas he trusts me," Albus sighed. "And he likely will regard it as a betrayal, but we can't take a chance on the spell punishing him. I don't know how much of a timeframe it will permit once he's awake."

He paused and looked steadily at Severus. "And at this point, I'd rather have Harry angry with me than with you. I know this is shocking and distressing, but for it to become bearable for the both of you..."

Severus' veneer of calm snapped. "It will never be bearable for either of us!"

Albus gazed at him for a long while, and Severus had the impression that the headmaster wanted to say a great many things. Probably all about letting go of the past, and how he should give Potter a chance, and how this spell could end up being a blessing in disguise. But he remained silent. Luckily for him, Severus thought angrily, because if Albus dared to try to find a silver lining in this disaster, Severus might just have to hex him and he couldn't see that going well for any of them.

Instead Albus finally said, "Perhaps we should let Harry sleep for another day or two, Severus, until you've had some time to accept the situation. I don't know that we should wake him while you're still so upset about it yourself."

Severus glared. "It will take more than a day or two for me to accept the situation. But Potter will be perfectly safe in my care, Albus. I'm not going to coddle the brat or cater to his whims, but I won't beat him or starve him."

Albus stepped close and placed a hand on Severus' arm. "Oh, Severus, I never thought you would."

Severus felt as if he were on the verge of losing control of his emotions and he turned sharply away. "Let's just get this over with, Albus."

He went to Potter's bedside and waved his wand in a complex motion over the boy's body while muttering the old Latin incantation. He hoped he'd done it right. He'd practiced for half an hour in Albus' office that afternoon. Apparently the master was the only one who could awaken the slave from the magically induced stupor.

He must have performed the awakening spell correctly for almost immediately, Potter stirred and blinked. Severus faded into the background as Albus came to sit on the side of Potter's cot.

"Harry, I need you to do something for me," the headmaster's voice was soft and soothing. "Can you sign this parchment?"

He pressed the quill into Potter's limp hand.

The boy yawned. "What...what is it?" He mumbled sleepily.

"All in good time, Harry. Just sign here."

Severus watched as Potter scrawled his name where Albus indicated, and shook his head. It was unfathomable to him how anyone, even someone Potter's age, could just sign a contract without reading it first. But then again, it was Albus urging him to do so. Potter trusted Albus. Once again, Severus felt a twinge of pity as he thought of how Potter would feel when he understood what he'd just done.

Not that there was any real choice. It was a lucky thing that the boy had signed. If he'd insisted on reading the parchment first, he'd have thrown a fit and then they'd have had to waste valuable time explaining the situation and trying to get Potter to accept it...time they might not have if the magic translated his behavior as an attempt to break the contract.

Albus held out the parchment to him. Severus took it and silently slipped away. He Flooed off to Albus' office, feeling very thankful that he did not have to witness the coming scene.

***

Harry yawned again and relaxed against his pillows. He still felt a fuzzy vagueness and he didn't know why he was in the infirmary, but he did feel more rested than he had in a long time. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dumbledore rise and take a couple of steps away from his bed, almost out of Harry's vision, and he thought he saw a dark blur move close to the headmaster and then away.

But it happened so quickly, and without his glasses, it was hard to tell for sure. Then Dumbledore came back and sat on the edge of his bed again.

"How do you feel, Harry?" The old wizard reached for something on a small side table and handed it to him.

His glasses. Harry slid them on and instantly the world came into sharp focus.

"Um, all right, I suppose, sir," Harry murmured, avoiding Dumbledore's eyes. He hadn't had much contact with the headmaster since Sirius' death, and he felt awkward and embarrassed about the way he'd destroyed Dumbledore's office, though Dumbledore himself had been very understanding about it all.

"Good, good." Dumbledore fell silent for a few minutes, and it struck Harry that the old wizard seemed uneasy as well. It was so unlike Dumbledore that Harry risked a glance at him and saw such grief on the headmaster's face that it frightened him.

"Sir? What's happened? Is it Ron or Hermione?"

"No, Harry. All your friends are fine." Dumbledore patted his hand reassuringly. "Tell me, my boy, do you remember why you're in the infirmary?"

Harry thought about it, and the memories began to come back...standing outside the Great Hall, debating whether to join his friends for the feast, deciding against it and starting to leave, then Draco Malfoy appearing.

He frowned. "Malfoy hexed me when my back was turned, that cowardly little..." He broke off, remembering he was in Dumbledore's presence. "Sorry, sir."

"That's quite all right, Harry. I'm very unhappy with Mr. Malfoy myself right now, though to be fair, he didn't realise what the spell did. I'd like to think he wouldn't have cast it if he had."

Something in the headmaster's tone made a cold lump of fear settle in Harry's stomach again. But he felt fine. Nothing hurt and in fact, he felt better than he had since Sirius.... But he didn't want to think about Sirius right now. Remembering his godfather brought on a flood of emotion that Harry just couldn't deal with in front of anyone, so he resolutely pushed those thoughts away.

"What did the spell do?" He asked, forcing himself to look back up at Dumbledore.

There was another pause and once again Harry thought that Dumbledore seemed anxious and unhappy, as if he truly dreaded having to tell Harry. But if all his friends were all right, then what could possibly be so bad? What could be worse than what Harry had already been through the past couple of weeks? He began to feel queasy.

Finally Dumbledore said, "I don't really know how to tell you, Harry, but I suppose the direct approach is best. The spell that Draco cast against you was not just a simple hex. It was an enslavement curse, and it bound you to the first person who touched you after the spell knocked you unconscious. Professor Snape is the one who caught you immediately after, when you began to fall."

Harry blinked at him. Enslavement curse? Bound? To Snape? Slowly he shook his head. "No."

"Yes, Harry. I'm very sorry, but I'm afraid for right now at least, it is true. I've been trying to find a way to undo the spell, or to free you, but I haven't discovered anything yet. I'll keep searching, of course, but in the meantime..."

Dumbledore's voice went on and on, Harry was dimly aware, telling him something about an old book from the Malfoy's library, about how he and Snape needed to try to make the best of things, and then starting to tell him that he couldn't try to run away or to do any kind of harm to Snape, or the magical contract would...

But Harry couldn't pay attention to him. His mind kept replaying those terrible words over and over. He was a slave. He was Snape's slave. The queasiness got worse and worse until Harry knew he couldn't hold it back anymore.

"I'm gonna be sick," he said, just before getting violently ill all over his bed and Dumbledore's robes. The headmaster immediately drew his wand, Vanished the mess, and conjured a plastic tub for Harry to finish retching into.

Then he moved to sit beside Harry, gently rubbing circles on his back until Harry closed his eyes and fell back against his pillows. Then Dumbledore Vanished the bucket and Summoned a Stomach-Calming Drought, a glass of water, and a damp cloth. He bathed Harry's face with the cloth and then handed him a vial of light green liquid.

"Here, drink these. The Drought first, and then the water," Dumbledore said softly. He waited until Harry had gulped the Drought and was sipping the water before going on.

"I'm so sorry, Harry. I know this is very hard for you. But it isn't the end of the world. Professor Snape is not going to mistreat you..."

Oh, yeah? Just like he hasn't mistreated me for the past five years? And now I'm his slave, just like Dobby was the Malfoys' slave.

Harry couldn't stop himself from remembering some of the things that Dobby had said the Malfoys had done to him, and for a moment he thought he was going to be sick again.

"How do you know that?" He burst out. "He hates me! He's always hated me, from the moment he laid eyes on me. Just because I look like my dad. He's always been mean and unfair, and now it'll be a million times worse."

Harry stopped abruptly because suddenly there was a huge lump in his throat and he knew that if he said one more word he would break down. He wasn't going to do that. He just wasn't.

Dumbledore began rubbing his back again, and Harry wished he would stop. It was much harder to hold back tears when Dumbledore was being so kind.

"I do know that Professor Snape has not treated you fairly, Harry, and I'm sorry for that, too. But he is not a monster. I can see by your face that you're imagining all sorts of horrible things, but I can promise you that, as unpleasant as he may be at times, Professor Snape is not going to physically abuse you." Dumbledore sounded very sure. Harry could only hope he was right.

After another moment of silence, Dumbledore went on. "I do need to tell you some things about this spell, Harry, for your own safety. There is a magical contract between you and Professor Snape. You absolutely cannot do anything that would risk breaking the contract. If you do certain things, the spell will kill you. If you do others, it will punish you. I don't know exactly how it would punish you, but I imagine it would be unpleasant, and we certainly don't want to find out by experience."

"You must not try to run away or do anything to attempt to free yourself. You must not try to cause any physical harm to Professor Snape. If you do either of those two things, the spell will kill you. Do you understand that, Harry?"

Harry bit his lip and nodded.

"You have to live with Professor Snape, for at least nine months of the year. I imagine the creators of the spell gave three months' leeway, in case the master wanted to send his slaves to travel for him," Dumbledore continued.

"You cannot own any property or money. Everything must be in Professor Snape's name."

Almost without being aware of it, Harry began shaking his head in denial again. Everything? Everything he owned was now Snape's? His Firebolt? Hedwig? His invisibility cloak and his photo album with the pictures of his parents and friends? Knowing Snape, he'd probably destroy them out of pure meanness, and then Harry wouldn't have anything from his parents.

"No," he whispered.

He felt Dumbledore's hand rest lightly on the top of his head. "I'm sorry, Harry. But the spell will punish you if you don't turn it all over to Professor Snape."

"Maybe I don't care!" Harry shouted. Anger washed over him and he let it. It was better to feel angry.

"Harry, you don't know the kind of torment a broken contract can inflict, and I pray you never do," Dumbledore's voice went stern for a minute. "But believe me; you don't want to play around with this spell. Imagine pain like the Cruciatus curse, lasting for hours, perhaps days, with no one able to stop it or help you. You would be helpless until the spell itself decided to quit punishing you. I don't know if that's what this spell would do, but I do know of magical contracts which cause that kind of consequence, and I would hate for you to have to suffer like that."

Harry swallowed hard and ducked his head. "Fine. I'll give everything to Snape."

Dumbledore sighed. "Actually, you already have. That was the paper I had you sign earlier. It was a statement giving all your possessions to Professor Snape."

As Harry turned to look at him in hurt resentment, Dumbledore sighed. "It had to be done, Harry, and I didn't know how much time the spell would allow before it decided you were breaking the rules. I wasn't sure if there would be enough time to explain everything to you first."

"The last condition," Dumbledore continued. "is that you have to obey Professor Snape, or he has the right to punish you as he sees fit. But remember what I told you, Harry. He's not a monster."

Harry snorted. It was rude, but at that moment, he just didn't care.

Dumbledore placed an arm around his shoulders and squeezed gently. "I'm so sorry that this has happened to you, Harry. I know it's not fair. But I also know that you're very strong, and very brave, and I truly believe that you and Professor Snape can make this work. But Harry, please do try to be respectful and remember that this is hard for Professor Snape, too."

Harry turned away. How could this possibly be hard for Snape? He got everything! He had all the power and control. He owned Harry's bank vault and all his other belongings. And worst of all, he had Harry, and Harry had to live with him and obey him or who knew what awful things could happen?

Despite Dumbledore's reassurances, Harry wasn't at all convinced he would be safe from Snape. He remembered the man's rage after catching him in the Pensieve. Snape had almost lost control then, and now Harry was completely at his mercy. He felt himself breaking out in an icy sweat.

It had to be some kind of terrible nightmare. Surely he would wake up in a few minutes, and then he could tell Ron and Hermione all about it, and they would all laugh in relief and exclaim about how crazy Harry's imagination was.

Except he wasn't waking up.

Dumbledore was talking again. "Harry, if you're feeling up to it, let's go on to my office. Professor Snape is waiting to take you home."

Harry started to shake his head. Was Dumbledore crazy? Of course he didn't feel up to going home with Snape. But then, he didn't have any choice in the matter, did he? He would never have any choice about anything again. He was a slave now. He would have to do whatever he was told, or Snape could do anything he wanted to him.

Queasiness threatened to overwhelm him again, but Harry choked it back. He couldn't keep on getting sick, no matter how much he felt like it. He was pretty sure Snape wouldn't take it well if Harry sicked up on him.

He realised that Dumbledore was still talking and forced himself to pay attention. It was better to concentrate on the headmaster's words than to dwell on his own thoughts.

"Of course you'll want to dress first. You don't want to show up at Prince Hall in pyjamas. Prince Hall is Professor Snape's home, and your home now, too, Harry," Dumbledore said.

Harry didn't speak aloud, but he thought to himself that even though he might have to live there with Snape, Prince Hall would never be his home. Never!

"We had Dobby pack your things and send your trunk on ahead..."

"Not my things anymore," Harry muttered. His eyes filled with tears and he looked away, blinking furiously.

Dumbledore sighed and reached over to pat Harry's shoulder. It was all Harry could do not to jerk away. He didn't mean to be rude to Dumbledore, but his feelings were such a jumble, and it was already hard to keep from breaking down.

"We sent the trunk on to Prince Hall," Dumbledore continued. "But we asked Dobby to set aside some clothing for you to wear once you were awake." He gave his wand a flick and suddenly neatly folded clothes appeared on Harry's cot.

Dumbledore stood up. "Here they are. I'll step into Madame Pomfrey's office and you can dress, Harry. Call me when you're ready."

He walked across the infirmary and disappeared into the office. Harry gazed dully at the clothes for a while before slowly getting out of bed and automatically going through the motions of getting dressed. He put on the dark green shirt with a collar, khaki trousers, tan socks and brown loafers, and then looked around to see if there was anything else he could do to avoid calling Dumbledore for a few more minutes.

Finally deciding that there wasn't, he went over to the office. The door was almost closed, only open a crack, and Harry knocked on it hesitantly.

Dumbledore opened it and smiled down at him. "Well then, Harry, we'll be off." He led the way over the infirmary's fireplace and took some Floo powder from a vase on the mantel. But before they stepped into the grate, Dumbledore spoke.

"Harry, it will be all right. Be brave and try not to worry. I have a crucial task that needs to be done in the next few days, but then I'll pay a visit to Prince Hall and see how you and Professor Snape are doing."

Harry didn't say anything; he couldn't, and Dumbledore laid a hand on his shoulder and guided him into the fireplace. Then there was the whoosh of the Floo and they were stepping out into the headmaster's office.

Snape and Madame Pomfrey were standing by Dumbledore's desk. They looked the same as always; Madame Pomfrey in her brown dress and with her dark hair pulled back in a bun, and Snape in his black robes. They were talking in quiet voices, but when Harry and the headmaster entered the room, they stopped and turned around. Madame Pomfrey looked a little shaken and she hurried over to Harry.

"I'm so sorry, dear. How do you feel? Are you...?"

"Potter's fine, Poppy. There's no reason to fret," Snape snapped. "I believe I've wasted quite enough time here today so if that's all, Albus, we'll be leaving now."

Harry was almost glad for Snape's brusque interruption. Madame Pomfrey's anxious expression just made him feel more nervous and brought a lump to his throat. But Snape's annoyed tone strengthened his resolve. He would not cry or show any weakness in front of the professor. Automatically, he straightened his shoulders and stood a little taller.

He risked a quick glance at Snape, but the man was looking at Dumbledore and Harry could only see his profile. Snape's pale face was set and his jaw clenched. Harry couldn't see his obsidian eyes, but he could imagine them flashing with impatience and anger.

Dumbledore started to say something, but then he only nodded and said, "Good-bye, Severus, Harry."

Snape stepped closer to Harry and took his arm, not exactly roughly, but certainly not gently either, and pulled him back into the fireplace. It was strange because he'd known that he would have to go with Snape, but Harry felt that it was only at that moment that it washed over him.

He had to live with Snape. For the rest of his life, unless Dumbledore found some way to free him, he would have to live with Snape and do as he was told, and probably never be allowed to see his friends again, and suffer any kind of torment that Snape wanted to punish him with. He couldn't count on Dumbledore, or Madame Pomfrey, or Remus Lupin, or his friends, or anyone else to help or rescue him.

He was alone.

At that moment he wished that Draco's spell had killed him instead.

Then emerald flames shot high around Harry and Severus, and they were stepping out into another room, or rather, Snape was stepping out and pulling Harry along with him. They were in a kitchen, but it was nothing like the cluttered, crowded kitchen at the Burrow. It was more like the Hogwarts' kitchen, though not as large.

But it was still an expansive room, with light walls and dark timber beams crossing the high ceiling. The brick floor was spotless, and there was a long wooden table in the center of the room with several shiny copper-bottomed pots resting on it.

Two small house-elves were standing before them. They almost looked like twins; both of them wearing pristine white tunics and soft sandals. They both had clouds of snowy hair and huge blue eyes.

"Norie, Zan, this is Harry Potter," Snape's lip curled as he said Harry's name. "Potter, this is Norie, and this is Zan. They live here."

Harry didn't want to be rude, but he didn't think he could talk. He'd barely said anything since he'd woken and found out about the slavery spell. He was afraid of opening his mouth, afraid he'd either cry or else start screaming and never be able to stop. Fortunately, the house elves spoke first.

"Welcome to Prince Hall, Master Harry," one of them said solemnly while the other hurried close and reached up to pat his hand.

"You poor child. We's knowing you must be upset, Master Harry, but..."

It might not be easy to talk, but he couldn't just keep standing there like a lump, either. Snape might interpret it as rudeness and get angry, and Harry thought the house elves should know that they didn't have to address him as ‘Master Harry'. He was just a slave, like they were.

"I'm...I'm not ‘Master Harry'," he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm just..."

But both house elves were shaking their heads at him.

"Oh, we's used to calling all wizards ‘Master' and ‘Miss', Master Harry," the one patting his hand said. "You's just going to have to get used to it. We's old and set in our ways."

Harry shot a sideways glance at Snape, but the man didn't seem to care what the elves called him. Instead he said, "Zan, I think I'd like a glass of wine. Would you please bring it to the library in a few minutes?"

"Of course, Master Severus."

Snape looked over at Harry, who dropped his eyes but not before seeing the look of irritation that always came over Snape's face when he saw Harry.

"Are you hungry, Potter?" He demanded.

Harry shook his head and mumbled, "No, sir."

"Then come along." Snape swept out of the kitchen. Harry bit his lip and followed.

They went down a narrow corridor and up a flight of stairs that led into a formal dining room; then into the grand entrance hall and up another flight of stairs, wider than the first, with a fancy, carved balustrade. Then Snape led the way around corners, down more corridors, and up still more stairs, until Harry was completely lost.

If he hadn't been feeling so dazed and hopeless, he probably would have had a better sense of direction. After all, Hogwarts was much larger and Harry had learned his way around there pretty quickly. He probably would have enjoyed looking around at the manor, too.

As it was, he had vague impressions of spacious rooms filled with gleaming antique furniture; tapestries on the walls and rugs on the stone floors, well-made but faded with the patina of age; wide corridors lined with mirrors and portraits of finely-dressed witches and wizards, some of whom called after them curiously. But Snape never paused, just hurried along without a backwards glance. Harry had to half-run to keep up with him.

At last, Snape stopped at the end of yet another hallway, and they went into a room. It was smaller than the others Harry had seen, but it was not so small as to be cramped. It contained a bed, a night table, a desk and chair, and a chest of drawers. A navy and white patterned quilt covered the bed and navy drapes hung at the window. Harry's trunk sat on the floor at the foot of the bed and Hedwig waited in her cage on the desk. She hooted softly when she saw Harry.

"This will be your room, Potter," Snape announced coolly. "You're to keep it neat and clean. Norie and Zan are elderly and they don't need to be picking up after a slovenly teenager. I expect your room to be presentable at all times. Is that clear?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Breakfast is at eight in the morning. Lunch is at noon, and dinner at seven in the evening. We eat in the dining room and meals are served promptly on schedule. If you're late, you don't eat. What is it, Potter?" He asked crossly as Harry looked up at him.

"It's just...I mean, you want me to eat in the dining room with you?" Harry was a little surprised. He'd expected to eat down in the kitchen alone, or with the house elves, when he was lucky enough to get to eat, anyway.

Snape had a decidedly sour expression, as if the mere idea of dining with Harry was enough to give him indigestion. Nevertheless, he nodded.

"If you can eat like a civilised person and not like a baboon, then yes." He looked at a clock hanging on the wall. "There's an hour before dinner. I suggest you unpack. If you get lost on the way down, call for Norie or Zan and one of them will appear to guide you."

He turned to leave and Harry swallowed hard. He was almost afraid to ask, but on the other hand, he needed to know. "Sir? What do you want me to do? I mean, what are my chores?"

Snape paused and looked back at him. "I already told you I expect you to keep your room tidy, and you're to keep up with your school assignments as well. You should have ample time to study. I expect top marks in all your subjects, including potions."

He started to leave again, when Hedwig screeched and flapped her wings. Snape glared and Harry braced himself. Uncle Vernon had often threatened to kill Hedwig when she got noisy. He'd never actually followed through with it, obviously, but it had always scared Harry.

But Snape only growled. "You might as well let that owl loose, Potter. She needs to learn her way around the grounds." Then he was gone.

Slowly Harry carried Hedwig's cage over to the window. He pushed it open and then released the latch on the cage. Hedwig trilled happily as she soared free and glided off through the air.

"Don't get lost, Hedwig," Harry whispered after her. "You're my only friend here. I need you."

He watched until the snowy owl was only a speck in the distant sky and then turned his attention to the landscape around him. His room was high up, on the top floor, and looking down he could see grey stone walls and a paved terrace below. A sweeping green lawn dotted with a couple of great oak trees stretched out to a black wrought-iron fence, and beyond that lay the wild grasses and gentle slopes of a moor.

After a while, Harry turned and looked about the room. It was rather plain, especially compared to the rooms he'd glimpsed on the way, but Harry didn't mind. It was much better than a cupboard, at least, and nicer than anything he would have expected Snape to give him.

To be fair, he supposed Snape hadn't been as bad as he'd feared. Oh, the man hadn't been pleasant, by any means, but he hadn't been terrible, at least not yet. So far all he'd really told Harry to do was keep his room clean, do his homework, and be on time for meals.

But of course, he'd only been around Snape for a few minutes and the man had acted as if he could barely tolerate Harry's presence for that long. Remembering all of Snape's taunts and unfair punishments from the past five years of class, Harry thought gloomily that things were bound to get worse.

Well, he supposed he'd better do what Snape had suggested and unpack. There was no point in antagonizing the man, not now when he could retaliate in any way he wished and Harry was powerless against him.

He knelt by his trunk...Snape's trunk now...and opened it. Most of his former things seemed to be there. His wand lay on top of his clothes and Harry lifted it out and held it between his fingers. Somehow, he felt better now that he had his wand, even if he couldn't use it during the summer.

Harry set it on the bed and then went to put his clothes in the wardrobe. His schoolbag, textbooks, parchment, and quills were still in the trunk, where they'd been packed underneath his clothes, as well as a familiar maroon photo album with gold leaf etchings on the front. Harry lifted it out and reverently turned the pages. His fingers lightly brushed the picture of James and Lily Potter as they smiled and waved at him. If only they could be here now, Harry thought desperately. If only they hadn't died and he could have had a normal life, like everyone else.

Why did it always have to be him? Why was it his life that was always so messed up? What had he ever done to deserve it?

Abruptly Harry closed the photo album. It was no use thinking like that. He'd only get all upset again and he had to go down and eat dinner with Snape soon. He looked at the clock on the wall to check the time. He certainly didn't want to be late.

It was a quarter til seven. Harry decided he'd just leave the photo album and all his school things in his trunk. He put his wand back inside as well, and sighed as he closed the lid. His invisibility cloak and Firebolt were missing, and there was no telling what Snape had done with them. Harry wondered if he had the nerve to ask Snape for them, but decided that that might not be a good idea right now. Maybe, if he could manage not to make Snape furious with him, he could ask in a few days, or a week.

Harry looked over at the open window in consternation. He didn't want to close it, just in case Hedwig wanted to come back inside. That wasn't likely...she usually liked to fly free at night and only came back to her cage at dawn. But this was a new place, and if for some reason she did decide to come back and couldn't get inside, she might get confused and think she was at the wrong house, or that Harry had left her, or something.

But Snape might not want the window left open, and Harry didn't want to make him angry. He was bound to do something to make Snape angry soon...Merlin knew it didn't take much...but Harry would try his best, anyway.

He settled for closing the window partway, but still leaving a space wide enough for Hedwig to come through if she truly wanted. Then he decided he'd better head down to the dining room, especially since he wasn't at all sure of the way and might have to call on the house-elves to help him. What were their names again? Norie and Zan? At least they had seemed nice.

Sure enough, once Harry had walked to the end of his corridor, he realised he had no idea of which way to go next. He called softly for Norie. It took a few seconds for her to appear, and Harry was beginning to panic, thinking that she wasn't going to come and he'd be late and Snape would be outraged.

He was taking deep breaths and trying to remember if Snape had brought him to the hall from the right or the left when there was a soft pop and she was at his side.

"Is you needing help, child? Oh, no, dearie, you calm down," she fluttered about him, patting his hands again. Harry had the feeling that if she'd been a bit taller, or if he'd been any shorter, she would have hugged him.

"Now, it's not that bad, Master Harry. You's going to be just fine here. Don't you worry about a thing. Master Severus is a good man, even if he doesn't always show it, and he's going to learn to love you, you wait and sees if he doesn't," she told him kindly.

In spite of his anxiety, Harry had to give her an incredulous look. Snape? Learn to love him? Was she insane? There wasn't a snowball's chance in hell of that happening, but Harry decided not to argue with her. There wasn't time anyway.

"Please, ma'am, I don't know how to get to the dining room..." he began.

Norie's tinkling laugh interrupted him. "Ma'am? Child, Norie's never been called ‘ma'am' in her life. You can call me ‘Norie' like everyone else does."

Harry nodded. "Norie, please, could you take me to the dining room? I don't want to be late. Professor Snape said if I'm late, I can't eat."

Norie sniffed. "Deny food to a child in your condition? I'd likes to see Master Severus try it."

Harry frowned slightly. What did she mean, a child in his condition? For one thing, he wasn't a child. He was almost sixteen, and he might still be the smallest boy in fifth year, but Seamus Finnegan wasn't much taller. Heck, Draco Malfoy, that rotten little ferret, wasn't much taller. And Harry might have lost a little weight lately, but it wasn't like he was about to keel over.

"But you's not going to be late, Master Harry. Take my arm." She offered her arm to him and Harry tentatively placed his hand on her forearm. Everything went black and he felt a sudden, harsh squeezing, as if all the breath were being forced out of him, but it only lasted for a second, and then he and Norie were standing in the entrance hall, just outside the wide arched doorway to the dining room.

She smiled at him. "Tomorrow Zan or me will show you around so yous won't get lost anymore, Master Harry. Now, remember, child, don't you worry." Then she was heading back to the kitchen.

The grandfather clock standing in the corner of the dining room chimed as Harry hurried in. Snape was already seated at the head of the table.

He scowled, "You're cutting it close, Potter."

Harry hesitated. "Should I leave, sir?"

Snape exhaled a sharp, angry breath and gestured at the place set to his right. "Sit."

Harry slid into his seat and wished that he could be at the opposite end of the table instead. The more space there was between him and Snape, the better. From the professor's fierce glower, it was plain to see that he felt the same way. It must have been Norie or Zan who'd placed them side by side.

Almost at once dinner appeared on the table. Snape obviously ate well. There was lobster bisque soup and a crisp salad to start with; then grilled salmon and steamed vegetables; followed by chocolate éclairs for dessert. Harry knew it had to be delicious, but it all tasted like sawdust to him, and even though he was desperate not to offend Snape, he could only choke down a few mouthfuls. That was better than risking sicking up again.

They ate in complete silence. Harry wasn't about to take a chance on saying anything, and though Snape cast several baleful glares at Harry's full plate of food, he didn't comment on it. As soon as he'd finished, Snape rose and stalked out of the room without even looking at Harry.

Harry blinked down at his plate, wondering why he felt hurt by that. It made no sense, and part of him was glad that at least Snape hadn't said anything hateful or cruel, but still, it hurt.

"Is you not hungry, Master Harry?" The other elf had appeared at his elbow.

Harry tried to smile at him. "I'm sorry, Zan. It looks really good, but I just can't eat."

The elf nodded at him and said almost exactly what Norie had earlier. "I understands, Master Harry, but you is not to fret. Everything will work out. Now, lets me send the plates to the kitchen and I will show yous back to your room."

Zan guided Harry carefully back through the labyrinthine maze of stairs and hallways to his bedroom, and Harry paid careful attention this time. He thought he knew the way, but Zan assured him that he and Norie didn't mind coming to help him if he got lost again.

Once he was alone, Harry changed into pyjamas and went on to bed. He'd never gone to bed right after dinner, but he felt drained and he wanted to be sure he woke early enough to make it to breakfast with time to spare.

Yet, exhausted as he was, sleep refused to come. Harry's body was tired, but his mind was restless. It kept re-playing the afternoon's events. He kept seeing images and hearing words over and over again: Dumbledore's sad face and quiet voice telling him he was a slave, Snape sneering at him, the kindly elves, and finally he saw Draco Malfoy shooting curses at him again and again.

Harry felt such grief and fear and rage that he thought he might burst from it, and now, alone in the darkness, he wished he could cry. But now, when he was safe from Snape's cruelty and others' pity, when he could finally indulge in the tears that he'd wanted to weep all evening, now they wouldn't come.

He stared dry-eyed into the night for a long time before sleep mercifully overcame him.

Not many people would have considered Severus Snape the type of person to keep a journal, but they would have been wrong. Each evening before retiring to bed, Severus sat at a great mahogany desk in the library and faithfully recorded the daily events of his life in a black leather-bound journal. Not all of the daily events of his life, of course...some things were either too personal or too dangerous to be written down, even in a private journal. But he did mention some of his thoughts and feelings, as well as more mundane topics such as lists of potions ingredients he needed to buy.

Eileen Prince had been the one who'd encouraged...required, actually...him to begin keeping a journal, as soon as he'd been old enough to scratch letters with a quill. She'd always written in a diary, as had her parents, and in her mind it was just one of the things a well-brought up young wizard did.

Severus himself wasn't sure why he'd kept it up after her death. Habit, he supposed. It surely wasn't that a journal could be any kind of substitute for a friend who would listen to his trials and problems. No, believing such a thing was the height of maudlin silliness, and Severus never entertained such thoughts. Still, there was a certain comfort in confiding, even to a journal.

Now, he frowned slightly as he stared down at the page he'd just finished. He'd written that one of his least favorite students was now required to live with him and had gone on at length about his displeasure at having his home invaded, how the surly brat had barely spoken and had wasted a perfectly good dinner. He had been careful not to mention Potter's name or any identifying characteristics, and he had not given any details about why the student had to live with him. But now he was wondering if even what he'd written was too much information, should the journal ever happen to fall into the wrong hands.

But how could he continue to write without any mention of the brat who was now in his charge? For that matter, while they could keep the slavery spell secret for the summer, it was going to be trickier in the fall when school started again and Potter would have to live with him in the dungeons instead of in Gryffindor Tower. Perhaps the slavery spell could be kept quiet, but he and Albus would have to think up some other explanation.

Yes, whether any of them liked it or not, within a couple of months people were going to find out that Harry Potter was living with Severus Snape. And what would that mean for his spying?

Severus sat up with a start. How could he possibly continue spying on Voldemort now? It would only be a matter of time before the Dark Lord discovered that Severus had become Potter's guardian, of sorts. He would demand that Severus bring Potter to him, and when Severus refused, it could only end in a messy, unpleasant death.

He would have to quit spying. It was the only way that he and Potter could both hope to survive. Severus bit his lip, as he pondered a future without the terrible tension of walking the line as a double agent. It would, of course, be a great relief. He would never have to attend one of those abominable Death Eater meetings again; never have to watch in silence as their innocent victims suffered, never have to kowtow to the monstrous vain beast who dreamed of domination, never have to feign comradeship with his despicable followers. Never again.

But there was a drop of anguish in his relief, too. Spying had been his means of atonement for his own past sins, and he flattered himself that he'd done some good with it, too. He was a good spy. No one else, or precious few, anyway, could have successfully hoodwinked the Dark Lord for as long as Severus had. He'd paid a high price for fulfilling his duties, but more than once he'd brought Dumbledore critical information that had saved lives and preserved freedom. And every time he'd remembered the people who had died because of him, and he'd promised them that their deaths had not been in vain.

But now he would be useless.

The clock hanging above the fireplace chimed, bringing him back to the present and reminding him that it was growing late. Severus closed his journal and put away his quill. He wondered if Albus had yet realised that his spying days were over. Well, the headmaster had said he would come by soon, when he'd completed whatever mission he was on for the war, and he and Severus could talk about it all then.

It occurred to him that he'd need to make sure he had plenty of his own special Healing Salve on hand. The Dark Mark on his left arm could become quite painful now that Severus would be unable to respond to Voldemort's summons. Regular healing salves wouldn't do a thing to ease the torment caused by dark magic, either. But Severus had experimented until he'd come up with a particularly strong one and he thought it would adequately numb the pain, or he hoped it would, anyway. He'd never actually had to test it before.

Well, no use dwelling on it, or on the long difficult day he'd had. Severus had learned long ago that fretting over matters was a waste of time. He'd just have to check on the Healing Salve in the morning, and hope that it would work as it was supposed to.

Severus went over to the fireplace and Flooed to his bedroom.

***

The sky outside his window was just beginning to lighten to a heavy grey when Harry woke the next morning. For perhaps half a minute, he gazed groggily around, feeling completely disoriented and wondering why he was in this unfamiliar room.

Then it hit him with all the force of a rampaging mountain troll. He was Snape's slave and he had to live at Prince Hall. Harry squeezed his eyes tightly shut, as if that would somehow shut out the truth, and wished more than ever that he could just go to sleep and never wake up.

But of course, he couldn't. Life went on whether he wanted it to or not, and lying in bed wishing otherwise wasn't going to change a thing. There was a soft whooing sound and Harry reluctantly opened his eyes and looked over at the desk to see a pale fuzzy owl-shape sitting on the perch in the cage, Hedwig wanting her breakfast before falling asleep for the day.

Harry sighed and reached for his glasses on the night table before slipping out from beneath the warm quilt and going to get a box of owl-treats from his trunk.

"All right, all right, here you go," Harry told her as he poured the treats into her cage.

Hedwig's amber eyes regarded him solemnly, and Harry lightly stroked her feathers, as much to comfort himself as to please her. She nipped at his hand lightly, affectionately, before beginning to eat. She always had seemed to have an uncanny knack for knowing when something was wrong.

The air was chilly in the pre-dawn darkness. Harry shivered and wondered if he should just go back to bed. There were still almost two hours before breakfast and the bed was warm and comfortable. But he might get back into a sound sleep and not wake up in time, so he finally decided to just go ahead and get dressed.

He crossed over to the wardrobe and opened the top drawer, studying its contents thoughtfully. He didn't have many summer clothes. He'd never bothered to buy much because he'd always known that by the time the weather was hot he'd be back at Privet Drive, wearing Dudley's old cast-offs.

He did have a few things, just because he'd bought them to wear on the weekends at Hogwarts in early September and the last weeks of May and June, but it was probably not enough to get him through a whole summer.

Or maybe he was worrying for nothing. He was a slave, after all. Snape might not mind a bit if Harry went about in rags. On the other hand, Snape did seem to like things to look presentable. He'd warned Harry to keep his room neat, and the house elves were clean and smart.

There was just so much he didn't know! He didn't know if he should dress in his work clothes, Dudley's ill-fitting hand-me-downs, or if he should choose something nicer, like he'd worn yesterday, or maybe a compromise like jeans and a casual shirt, but ones that fit him and weren't stained from hours of toiling in the Dursleys' home and yard. He didn't want to offend Snape by being too casual, but then again, the professor might think he was being arrogant if he dressed too nicely. Harry pressed his hands to his face and wished he could just scream from sheer frustration.

Eventually he chose a red and white striped shirt and a pair of jeans, along with socks and his slightly scuffed trainers. He sighed as he studied his pyjamas and the clothes he'd worn the previous day. He knew the charms to clean clothes, but of course he couldn't do any magic in the summer. At the Dursleys', he'd cleaned his clothes (and theirs) the Muggle way, but he doubted he'd find washing and drying machines at Prince Hall.

Well, his pyjamas and old clothes couldn't be very dirty. Harry decided he'd just fold them and put them away for now, and talk with Norie and Zan later. Perhaps they'd be willing to clean his clothes if he helped them with their work.

Next, Harry made up his bed, being careful to tuck the corners of the sheets tightly and to smooth every wrinkle out of the quilt. He plumped up his pillow and set it against the headboard. Then he went back to the wardrobe and dug around until he found an old T-shirt that he didn't mind using as a rag and dusted the furniture. He stuffed it into the unused bottom drawer of the wardrobe and finally looked around the room to survey his work.

Satisfied that even Snape would find nothing to complain about, Harry checked the clock and seeing that there was still an hour before breakfast, decided to go ahead and begin his school assignments. He grimaced slightly as he took out his Potions text and some parchment and a quill to take notes. He'd never started on his summer homework right at the beginning of the holidays. Hermione would be proud.

Hermione. Ron. Harry froze and wondered how in the world he could ever explain things to them. How could he bear the shame of telling them that he was a slave now? Snape's slave, at that? How could he bear their horror and pity?

But he was going to have to tell them something, or if Snape wouldn't let him talk with them, someone else would have to. What if Snape really wouldn't let him see his friends anymore? Next to Harry, he hated Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Ginny most of all the Gryffindors. It would be just like him to forbid Harry from seeing them.

A sharp pain, even worse than the one he'd felt when Sirius died, stabbed into his chest and brought tears to his eyes. Because out of all the horrible things that could possibly happen, or had already happened, the very worst to Harry would be to lose Ron and Hermione. They were his family.

All of a sudden, Harry wished fiercely that he'd gone to sit with them at the Feast that last evening at Hogwarts. It would have saved him from this cursed spell, and it would have been an opportunity to be with the only people in the world who truly loved him.

Well, if Snape did forbid him to see his friends, Harry would just have to try to sneak around and do it anyway. That was the one thing he couldn't obey Snape in, no matter what the professor did to punish him. He couldn't lose Ron and Hermione on top of everything else.

Swallowing hard, Harry took his materials over to the desk and moved Hedwig's cage to the corner. He didn't know how he was going to manage here, but he'd just have to take things one step at a time, and right now he'd go ahead and study. He tried to force all other thoughts from his mind and concentrate on learning the characteristics of the Draught of Living Death.

Like dinner the night before, breakfast was a tense, silent affair. Snape concentrated on eating his eggs, bacon, and toast, and left the dining room as soon as he'd finished without so much as a glance at Harry.

Well, at least he hadn't complained about Harry's clothes so jeans and casual shirts must be all right to wear. Harry looked at his own half-eaten plate without interest and laid his fork down. It was almost funny in a way, when he thought of all the times he'd gone hungry at the Dursleys' and here he was unable to eat the delicious food set before him here, but he just didn't have any appetite. After a few bites, he still began to feel queasy and it was better to stop than to risk sicking up.

"Are you's all finished, Master Harry?"

Harry looked up to see that Norie had appeared at his side. He nodded. "I'm sorry, Norie, but I just can't eat any more."

She sighed and clucked at all the uneaten food. "We'll say nothing about it this time, child, but you's going to have to eat more. We's not wanting you to get sick."

Harry wondered if he could explain to her that that was the problem...if he kept eating, he might get sick, but instead he just nodded unhappily.

She patted his arm. "You's still fretting, aren't you, Master Harry? But there's no need, truly. Everything's going to be fine."

Harry gave her a hopeless look. How could she say that? Surely she understood how terrible it was to be a slave, how he felt so crushed and defeated and despairing, how nothing could ever be fine again.

But maybe she didn't. After all, most house elves didn't seem to want freedom, even if they had horrible masters. Harry never had understood that, but it did seem to be true.

Norie patted his arm again. "Now, just lets me take the plates down to the kitchen, and then Zan and me will shows you around Prince Hall."

Norie snapped her fingers and all the plates, cups, silverware, and napkins piled onto a tray. Another snap and the tray floated away down the stairs to the kitchen. An instant later Zan appeared and the two elves led Harry out of the dining room.

They spent most of the morning touring the manor house. Prince Hall seemed huge to Harry, though Norie and Zan said it was rather small compared to many others, with only forty-seven rooms. Old Master Jeremiah Prince, and now Master Severus, too, could have easily afforded an even larger and grander place. But old Master Jeremiah had been quite proud of his lineage and Prince Hall had been the family estate for hundreds of years. Master Severus just said the place was plenty big enough for him, and he liked its isolation.

"There's being one little village a bit to the east," Zan told Harry as they explored a second floor corridor. "Muggle, of course. But nothing else for miles and miles. Not that it matters. Prince Hall is under the Fidelious Charm, and only a couples of wizards besides Master Severus can comes here."

Well, Harry did feel slightly better at that news. He'd been wondering how safe Prince Hall was, since it couldn't be under blood wards like Privet Drive. But if it was under the Fidelious Charm, perhaps it would be all right. Of course, the Fidelious Charm had been a tragedy for his parents, but Harry knew that with a trust-worthy Secret Keeper, it should be secure.

"Who's the Secret Keeper?" He asked.

"Master Severus, of course," they both answered together.

Harry nodded. He'd expected that, but he'd wanted to know for sure.

"Who else can come here?" He wanted to know next.

"That headmaster of your school, Professor Dumbledore, and a very nice medi-witch, Madame Pomfrey," Norie said.

"Madame Pomfrey can come here?" Harry asked in surprise. He knew that she and Snape got along all right, but he hadn't thought they were close enough that Snape would give her access to come through the Fidelious Charm.

Norie and Zan looked solemn.

"Professor Dumbledore's had to brings her a few times when Master Severus was badly hurts with his spying," Norie said softly.

"Oh," Harry said quietly.

Norie came close and took his hand. "Sees, Master Harry, I tolds you Master Severus is a good man. He's just doesn't always knows how to show it, but that's not his fault, is it, what with being raised by his parents and old Master Jeremiah, that awful man."

Harry looked at her in surprise. "I didn't think house elves could speak ill of their masters."

Norie humphed. "Oh, we's can speak ill of Master Jeremiah alls we want, nows that we is free."

Harry stared. "You're free?"

Both elves nodded.

"We's served as slaves when Master Jeremiah was alive," Zan explained. "But when Master Severus inherited, the first things he does is free us. Me and Norie wasn't pleased at first, either. But Master Severus says we's can live here for as long as we wants. He just doesn't want us to be slaves."

Harry blinked. Somehow, he'd automatically assumed that the elves were slaves, too. It had never occurred to him that Snape would have freed them. A painful lump came to his throat. It wasn't that he wanted Norie and Zan to be slaves; it was wonderful for them that they were free. He just wanted so badly to be free again, too.

"Shall we's go on, Master Harry?" Zan asked softly.

Harry nodded and they continued the tour.

When they'd finished going through the inside, Norie and Zan took him out to the grounds. Harry thought to himself that while Snape might could afford a larger estate, it would be hard to find one grander than Prince Hall.

The inside was beautiful, with all its spacious rooms and priceless antiques and heirlooms, and from the outside Prince Hall was impressive as well. It was made of grey stone, rose three stories high, and was surrounded by an expansive, emerald lawn on three sides. A wide gravel path ran from the front of the house out through the distant wrought-iron gates, and was bordered by enormous, ancient oaks; their intertwined branches forming a shady canopy over the path.

Formal gardens were laid out neatly behind the Hall. Great flowering rosebushes, delicate irises and lilies, and colourful rhododendrons bloomed alongside twisting brick paths lined with stone benches, goldfish ponds, and burbling fountains.

It was almost lunchtime when Norie and Zan had finished showing him around, and when they looked at him expectantly, Harry could only shake his head in wonder and say, "It's beautiful."

***

When he looked back at his first few days at Prince Hall, Harry always thought they seemed to pass in a sad haze. He saw Snape only at meals. The professor seemed eager to avoid him, and Harry was just as glad to return the favor.

He spent most of his time either studying or visiting with Norie and Zan. They were all that got him through those first days. They were so kind and helpful that Harry found himself confiding in them, things that had taken him years to tell Ron and Hermione. He didn't know why he did...it wasn't like him to open up so quickly, but maybe it was just because he already felt vulnerable, or that Norie and Zan were genuinely interested in helping him, or maybe because he thought they would understand. They didn't say much, but every now and then, they would give hints that they had suffered, too, when old Master Jeremiah Prince had been alive.

Severus finished his breakfast and stalked out of the dining room, away from the Potter brat who was still wasting half his food. Normally he'd take his time eating, perhaps skim through the Daily Prophet while nursing a second cup of coffee. But like so much else in his life, all that had changed these past couple of days.

He could barely tolerate the brat's presence, so he hurried off to his lab or to read in the library after meals, but he couldn't help feeling resentful. It was his home, and now he almost felt like a prisoner in it. He scowled as he entered the library. Just wait until fall. Draco Malfoy was going to wish he'd never been sorted into Slytherin.

Severus picked up a book and flung himself into a leather armchair, but he was much too tense to settle down to reading. He considered going down to his laboratory and brewing a new potion...that often had a calming effect on him, but he was running low on several basic ingredients and he decided instead to visit the apothecary in Diagon Alley. There were others closer to home, but the shop in Diagon Alley was by far the largest and most completely stocked, and with the Floo, distance was a moot point anyway.

He called for Norie and when she appeared, he said, "Norie, I think I'm going to London for a while, to shop in Diagon Alley. It's possible that Albus or Poppy may come by. Albus should be finished with his mission any time now, and I sent a message to Poppy yesterday that she could come and pick up a book she wants to borrow. If they come, tell Albus to try again this evening, and tell Poppy the book she wants is in here."

Norie nodded. "Of course, Master Severus." She tilted her head at him. "Perhaps Master Harry might likes to go with you's. Young people often enjoys outings, and I'm sure he's lonely with only me and Zan for company. You's should be spending time with him."

Severus glared at her. "I'm sure that Potter and I are both better off avoiding one another as much as possible, and I'm not about to ruin my trip to Diagon Alley by bringing along that conceited little brat."

She frowned. "Master Severus, that's just wrong. Master Harry is not conceited or bratty. He's a wonderful child, and he's suffered lots from those horrible peoples he's used to live with."

Severus frowned back at her. The problem was, he couldn't really argue with her. He had been wrong, at least about Potter's family. It did sound as if they had mistreated him. But he was still a Potter, and he was still a brat. Severus refused to think otherwise.

He settled the matter by simply getting up and sweeping off to the fireplace. "I'll be back by dinnertime."

***

Harry was curled up in the same chair, reading, that afternoon. It was the first time he'd come to the library since Norie and Zan had shown him around the Hall, and he probably wouldn't have dared to now, except that he knew Snape was away and wouldn't be back until dinnertime.

He'd already finished most of his school assignments and since Norie and Zan were busy, it seemed like a good opportunity to explore a little on his own. He'd paused at the library doorway, awed by the room lined with shelves filled with leather-bound books. The walls were paneled in dark wood, where they weren't filled with books, and wine-red velvet drapes hung at the tall windows. A great desk and several small tables were scattered about, and some stuffed leather armchairs. Harry couldn't resist coming in and looking about.

His first thought was that Hermione would think she'd died and gone to Heaven if she ever saw this room. Then he went over to the bookshelves and began browsing. Before he knew it, he'd found a title that looked interesting and sat down to read.

The Floo roared to life, and Harry looked up in a panic, afraid it was Snape coming home early, but Madame Pomfrey stepped out instead.

"Mr. Potter," she smiled and came over to clasp his hand as Harry stood to greet her. "How are you managing, dear?"

Harry swallowed hard as he considered how to answer. "All right, I guess," he said quietly after a minute.

She studied him carefully and gave his hand a squeeze. "It'll be all right, Harry. Severus really is a good man, if you give him a chance."

Harry wished everyone didn't feel the need to keep telling him that, but it would be rude not to agree so he only nodded.

"Is Severus about?" She asked.

Harry shook his head. "No, ma'am. He went to Diagon Alley for the day."

"Oh," Madame Pomfrey looked disappointed. "He said I could borrow a book, and I was looking forward to reading it. It's a very rare journal written by the Healer Romano. You've heard of him, haven't you, Mr. Potter?"

Harry thought the name sounded familiar so he nodded again. "I think so. He said the book is in here somewhere, if you want to look for it."

Madame Pomfrey glanced around and then walked over to the desk by the window. "Oh, here it is."

She picked up the black leather-bound book lying atop it and started back to the fireplace. "I'm sorry to run, Harry, but I'm in a tremendous hurry today. I'll invite myself back to tea soon, though, and visit with you and Severus again."

She happened to idly open the book and then paused, realising that it wasn't the Romano book, but was filled with Severus Snape's handwriting instead. She immediately set it down on the little table beside Harry's chair.

"Oh, this isn't it, after all. I wonder..." Spying a similar-looking volume on another table she went over and examined it. "Oh, good, this is the one I'm looking for."

She laid her hand on Harry's arm and said softly, "I'll try to come back tomorrow, dear, if Severus agrees."

Harry nodded. "Good-bye, Madame Pomfrey."

After she'd gone, Harry settled back in the chair and began reading again. He meant to put the book back on the shelf and be out of the library long before Snape returned, but the story was so interesting, and it was so nice to have something to distract him from his own messed-up life, that he lost track of time.

When the Floo flared again, Snape stepped out. He scowled as he saw Harry looking up at him anxiously, but then his eyes fell on the journal on the table beside the boy, and his expression changed to unadulterated hatred and rage.

He grabbed Harry and shook him so hard that Harry's teeth rattled. "What the hell have you been doing!"

Harry was so shocked that for a second he could hardly comprehend what was happening. And even then, he didn't know what to say. He'd thought that Snape might be annoyed at finding him in the library, but nervous as he was around the professor now, he hadn't expected such sheer rage. Surely Snape couldn't be that angry that he was reading in the library. The only other time Harry had seen the man lose control like this was when he'd caught Harry in his Pensieve.

Snape was still shaking him so hard it hurt. "You ungrateful, insolent brat! I try to be good to you, and this is how you re-pay me? Once again, you can't keep out of my private affairs, can you? Well, you'd better start watching your step, Potter! You're my slave now! You can't go running to Dumbledore for help anymore. I can do anything I want to you. I can beat you. I can starve you. I can do anything, and no one can lift a finger to help you. So you'd damn well better start showing some respect or I'll make you sorry you were ever born!"

"But, sir, what..." Harry tried to say.

"Don't lie to me!" Snape almost screamed. He jabbed a finger at the black book on the table. "The proof is right there. I know you've been reading my journal."

"What?" Harry gasped. He shook his head. "I didn't..."

But Snape wasn't even listening to him anymore. He dragged Harry over to the high carved stone fireplace and grabbed some Floo powder. A moment later the Floo spit them out into another room, one Harry had not seen before.

Three walls were lined with shelves and cupboards. Hundreds of glass jars filled with potions ingredients or various potions themselves lined the shelves. A long wooden counter and a sink ran along the fourth wall. Several shiny cauldrons sat on the counter, and several more, containing bubbling liquids, rested on a work table in the center of the room.

But Harry didn't have a chance to register more than a passing glance at the laboratory. Snape pulled him over to the sink and flung open a pair of drawers underneath. There were some large bottles of cleaning solutions below the sink, and Snape gave his wand a furious flick and a bucket and sponge appeared, too.

"Start scrubbing, Potter," he said between gritted teeth. "This room had better be spotless by the time I return, or you can forget having dinner tonight."

"But, sir...," Harry began, wanting desperately to explain.

"Shut up!" Snape almost threw Harry from him and swept back to the fireplace. Then he was gone.

Harry took a deep breath, and tried to calm his racing heart. It wasn't so bad, really, he told himself. Just cleaning, and he'd certainly had lots of experience with that before. The room already looked spotless, anyway, so it shouldn't be hard work. As angry as he was, Snape hadn't beaten him, or done anything truly horrible.

But he'd threatened to, and the worst part was that he could carry out those threats if he wanted. Harry was his slave, and Snape could do anything to him, and no one could stop him.

Mingled fear and rage swept over him. It wasn't fair. Out of all the spells Malfoy could have cast against him, why had it been a slavery spell? And why, out of all the people at Hogwarts, had Snape had to be the one to catch him?

Because he'd been there. Snape was a fine one to talk about respecting privacy, Harry thought bitterly. At Hogwarts, Snape was always prowling around him, trying to find ways to get Harry and his friends into trouble.

He hadn't even done anything! Madame Pomfrey was the one who'd moved Snape's journal. But of course, Snape wouldn't even give him a chance to explain. Oh, no, the professor just assumed the worst of Harry, like always.

But he had sneaked into Snape's Pensieve that time last year, a small voice in the back of Harry's mind reminded him. He sighed. Going into the professor's Pensieve had been wrong, and Harry knew it. He honestly was sorry about it, too, and not just because he'd seen an unpleasant side of his father. Harry didn't like to think that he'd deliberately violated someone's privacy, even Snape's.

But Snape had done the same thing to him, really. He'd attacked Harry's mind, in the name of teaching, and stolen looks into Harry's private memories. He hadn't seen the worst things. Thank goodness, Harry had somehow managed to hide the very worst things the Dursleys had done to him, but Snape had still seen plenty of stuff that Harry wished he hadn't.

If respecting privacy was really important to Snape, he'd have offered to let Harry use a Pensieve to protect his thoughts. But of course Snape hadn't done that...oh, no, he'd relished his opportunities to humiliate Harry.

Harry took another deep breath and tried to force his bitterness aside. He couldn't change anything that had happened in the past, and now that he was a slave and Snape was his master, it would probably be wise to not provoke him. Maybe, just maybe, if he cleaned the lab and showed Snape that he was trying to be obedient and respectful, the man would calm down a little and listen to the truth.

Harry couldn't help feeling another flash of resentment as he knelt down to pull the bottles of cleaning solutions out from under the counter, and his sore muscles ached in protest. Snape hadn't had to shake him that hard.

Feeling very unsettled and achy and stiff, he filled the bucket halfway with water and then pulled the caps off the bottles of cleaners. It brought back memories of all the hours he'd spent scrubbing floors at the Dursleys, and made him wish more than ever that his own parents were alive.

If only he could have had his own mum and dad, and grown up with them, or if Sirius hadn't died and Harry could have lived with him. What would it have been like, to have a real family with people who loved him?

But thinking about his godfather was just too painful. Harry couldn't bear to remember Sirius' grin, or how his eyes had lit up whenever he saw his godson. He couldn't bear to remember Sirius telling him to be strong and hold on, that one day everything would work out and they could always be together.

He resolutely grabbed one of the cleaning solutions and began adding it to the bucket of water. He was so lost in his misery, he never thought to read the warning labels on the bottles, but simply mixed in a generous amount of the two solutions and then began sponging off the counter.

***

Severus paced furiously around the library. He'd already locked his journal inside the desk, but he was much too angry to settle down to reading, or writing, or even to eating the meal he'd had Zan bring in here to him.

How dare that Potter whelp go through his journal? Had the arrogant little brat not learned his lesson when Severus had caught him in his Pensieve last year? And after Severus had tried to make things bearable for him here. He'd been more than reasonable. He'd allowed Potter to keep all his belongings, which were now legally Severus', or most of his belongings, at least. Severus had put away that blasted invisibility cloak and the broomstick for safe-keeping. But he'd let Potter have everything else. Not that Severus had any use for Potter's things, anyway, but regardless, it would have been wrong to keep them from the boy.

He hadn't made any extreme or irrational demands of the brat, only requiring him to keep his room neat, put some effort into his studies, and show up on time for meals. Anyone would have to admit that Severus had done his part to make things run smoothly.

Then, after all he had done, Potter had repaid his kindness by waiting until Severus was gone and then snooping through his journal. Well, he was a Potter, Severus thought bitterly. Like father, like son.

If he, Severus, had ever dared to do such a thing, either to Tobias Snape or to Jeremiah Prince...well, Severus could imagine the beating he would have received.

Perhaps that was what Potter needed...but no. Severus had vowed long ago that he would never be like his father or grandfather. He disliked children in general, and Potter in particular, but he had never physically abused any child and he would not start now.

He stopped his pacing and took several long deep breaths, trying to calm himself. His food was getting cold and there was no point in letting a nice dinner go to waste.

He stalked over to the little table where his plate rested, flung himself into a chair, and speared a forkful of shrimp linguini. But all the while he was eating, his mind kept replaying the horrible instant when he'd returned from Diagon Alley and found his journal next to Potter.

The little brat had read some of his most secret thoughts. Anger and shame burned in Severus' stomach and after a few bites he set his fork down. As upset as he was now, he'd probably get indigestion if he kept eating. He wasn't very hungry anyway.

He supposed he should call one of the elves to come take his tray, but truthfully, he didn't want to have to face them yet. He could still see Zan's disapproving stare when he'd informed him that Potter was being punished and they were not to fetch the boy to dinner, but to retire for the evening, and let Severus deal with him.

Zan had not argued; he'd probably accepted that when Severus was in this foul a mood, it did no good. But he'd just looked at Severus, his eyes filled with disappointment and reproach. Norie's reaction would be even worse.

But Severus hung on to his righteous anger. Norie and Zan didn't know what Potter had done to him, and it wasn't even the first time that arrogant little guttersnipe had violated his privacy. But by heavens, it would be the last! One way or another, the Potter brat was going to learn to respect him.

He scowled blankly down at the table as he contemplated how to handle the situation. In spite of his anger and resentment, in spite of what he'd told Potter, Severus knew he would not beat the boy or deny him food. The scrawny little runt already looked as if a strong gust of wind would blow him away.

He couldn't make Potter work all night either. For one thing, Norie and Zan would have his head, but Severus knew deep inside, that even without Norie and Zan, he would give Potter time for rest.

He supposed he'd go tell Potter to eat in the kitchen and then go on to bed. Perhaps he'd have the boy finish cleaning in the morning, but on the other hand, Severus had planned to brew tomorrow and he certainly didn't want the brat mucking around in his lab while he was trying to work there. But there were other things Potter could do. He'd think of something in the morning.

Severus stood up and stepped towards the library door, but just then the Floo roared to life. He looked at it in surprise. He rarely received visitors at dinnertime, but perhaps it was Albus, coming to see how he and Potter were managing. Well, let him come. Severus would give him an earful!

But when the green flames cleared, Albus wasn't stepping gracefully from the fireplace. Instead Poppy's face hovered above the coals and she looked uncharacteristically frightened.

"Severus! Are you there?" She called even before the flames had completely vanished.

Severus felt a cold lump of ice settle in his stomach at the panic in her voice. Poppy didn't panic easily. "I'm..."

She saw him before he could finish. "Oh, Severus, you've got to come right away. Albus is hurt, maybe dying, and I don't know what to do. It's some kind of Dark Curse, but I've never seen anything like it."

"I'm coming. You're at Hogwarts?" Severus was already grabbing some Floo powder from the little vase on the high ornately carved mantel.

"Yes, the infirmary. Hurry, Severus!" She vanished.

Every other thought had disappeared from Severus' mind. The only thing he was aware of was that Albus was in danger. The headmaster was more than a friend. He was the only one who'd ever defended Severus, first from Jeremiah Prince and later from those who'd wanted to send him to Azkaban. He was the only one who'd seen that Severus' remorse was real, that there was something worth saving in the broken shell of a young man who had come to him wanting to leave Voldemort's service. He was the closest thing to a real father that Severus had ever had.

Severus leaped into the fireplace and Flooed to Hogwarts.

***

The rim of a bright silver sun was glimmering on the eastern horizon when Severus stepped wearily out of the fireplace in his bedroom. He was exhausted, but euphoric. They'd done it. Albus was alive and recovering. It would be a few days before he was back to full health. The Dark Curse had been strong. It had taken all of Severus' knowledge and skill in fighting the Dark Arts to dispel it, but in the end, he and Poppy had won. Albus was unconscious, and likely to stay that way for another few days, but he would be fine.

Severus ran a hand over his face, and moved towards his bed. He wanted nothing more than to collapse and sleep for the rest of the day. His potions would just have to wait.

His potions...his lab...Potter!

Severus swore under his breath and reversed directions without breaking stride. He'd completely forgotten the boy. How could he have done that? It wasn't like him to be so careless. And damn it all, the boy had gone without dinner and had been cleaning all night after all, in spite of Severus' intentions.

It did serve the brat right for reading his journal, but Severus still felt uncomfortably guilty. He truly had not meant to be that harsh. Well, he supposed he should be willing to let the matter drop now and not give Potter any further punishment. He'd send the boy to the kitchen to eat breakfast and then let him sleep all day, too. Perhaps they'd both feel better in the evening.

Severus Flooed down to his Potions lab, which had once been part of a huge underground cellar, to fetch the boy. But the instant he arrived, he knew something was terribly wrong. Noxious yellow-green fumes filled the room, clouding his vision and burning his nose and throat with every breath.

Yanking his wand from his sleeve, Severus quickly vanished the choking vapors, and looked around frantically.

"Potter!"

For the second time in twelve hours Severus felt his heart stop beating. The boy lay face-down on the cold stone floor by the sink, unconscious, with blood streaming from his mouth and nose.

Severus raced over to kneel beside the prone form, his heart in his throat. It gave him cold chills to think of how long the boy must have been breathing in those fumes. Was he even still alive?

He had to be. Severus could not bring himself to imagine otherwise. With icy fingers he fumbled with Potter's wrist, swallowing hard in relief when he found a faint pulse. But it was much too weak for comfort and the boy was obviously badly hurt. With uncharacteristic tenderness, he gathered Potter in his arms and rushed over to the fireplace.

A few seconds later they were in the Hogwarts' infirmary.

"Poppy!" Severus shouted.

She was lying down, still wearing her brown Healing robes, on a cot near Albus' unconscious form. But at the sound of Severus' voice, she sprang up and hurried forward, taking in everything at a glance.

"Set him down here, Severus." She motioned to the closest cot and as Severus carefully laid the boy down, she pulled her wand from her sleeve and began a diagnostic spell.

Severus stepped back and watched as she worked in silence for a little while. He hated feeling so helpless, but his knowledge of healing was limited, mostly related either to injuries caused by Dark magic or to the brewing of medicinal potions. In this case, he thought Poppy could manage better without his assistance.

But it was hard to just have to stand by uselessly as she performed complex healing spells, moving her wand in quick, graceful movements over Potter's chest. Severus clenched his fists in frustration and waited in tense impatience. He wanted to rush over to the boy's side and join in, or at the very least, ask Poppy about his condition. He wanted to do something, anything, to help. But there was nothing he could do, and he didn't want to distract Poppy from her work.

So he waited.

Until finally Poppy straightened. She gave a final flick of her wand, and the blood on Potter's face disappeared, leaving him looking pale and wan and much younger than fifteen.

Poppy went over to Severus. "I've done what I can for now. He'll survive, but his lungs are badly damaged and it'll take some time for them to heal. Can you tell me what happened, Severus?"

Severus looked down, noted his fists, and made himself relax his hands. He dreaded having to tell Poppy. Yes, Potter had deserved some punishment for sneaking into his journal, but it had been very negligent of him to forget the boy and make him stay working in the laboratory all night. Severus was quite ashamed of himself for that. It really was inexcusable.

Finally he said, "He was cleaning and apparently mixed the wrong solutions together. My lab was full of fumes...I'm presuming they were poisonous...when I went to fetch him." Severus paused for a fraction, but Poppy needed to know. "I'm afraid, with all the fuss over Albus, I forgot the boy was working down there. He most likely breathed the fumes for hours, perhaps all night."

Poppy's face was absolutely white, but Severus wasn't sure if it was from anger or fear. But she only nodded.

"I could tell that much, from the amount of damage done to his lungs," her voice was clipped.

Anger, then. But Severus really couldn't blame her.

"He'll recover, you said?" He had to ask.

"I said he'd survive. There may be some permanent damage to his lungs. I won't know for a while yet." Her brown eyes pierced him. "Why was Harry cleaning your lab?"

Severus flushed slightly, but he scowled at her. The boy had deserved some punishment, even if it had ended up being much more drastic than Severus had intended. But it would be just like Poppy to insist that Potter should have gotten off scot-free.

"He was being punished," Severus answered stiffly.

"Punished? Whatever for?"

But before Severus could answer, Potter moaned and Poppy hurried back to his side to check on him. Severus couldn't help feeling a little anxious, but Potter grew still again and after a moment Poppy left the bedside and came back over.

"Should I take him to St. Mungo's?" Severus asked quietly.

Poppy shook her head. "I don't think the healers there could do any more for him, and it would lead to awkward questions. We're trying to keep this slavery spell quiet, aren't we?"

Poppy sighed as she looked back over at Potter. "Severus, he's going to need some potions."

Severus nodded. "Just tell me what you need."

"Some tissue restoration potion. I have a bit here, but not nearly enough, and a level 10 painkilling potion."

"Level 10?" Severus stared at her. The level 10 painkiller was by far the most potent, and rarely had to be used. In fact, Severus wasn't even sure the last time he'd had to brew a level 10 painkiller. Probably not since his days as an apprentice, studying for his Potions Mastery degree.

Poppy nodded grimly. "His lungs are in bad shape, Severus. The tissue restoration potions will take a while to work, and until they do, I'm afraid breathing is going to be very painful for Harry. So hurry, Severus. He'll probably wake up soon."

Severus started for the fireplace, calling over his shoulder. "What's the strongest painkiller you have here?"

"A level 6."

"I have level 8 at home. I'll send one of the elves with it and you can go ahead and give him that while I'm brewing."

***

It was almost noon before Severus was able to bring the requested potions back to the Hogwarts' infirmary. As soon as he stepped from the fireplace, he could tell it wasn't a moment too soon.

Potter was conscious now, and though he was silent, he was obviously in pain. His face was drawn and whiter than ever; he was biting down on his lip so hard it was bleeding; and he was breathing shallow breaths and trying to wait as long as possible between inhaling.

Poppy was sitting beside him, murmuring softly and letting Potter squeeze her hands. When she caught sight of Severus, she said, "Here's Severus, dear. Let me get your potions and they'll help."

She rose and as she came towards him, Severus went swiftly to meet her. Poppy took the offered vials without a word and hurried back to give them to the boy.

Severus had expected Potter to fall back into unconsciousness once the level 10 painkiller was in his system, and he was unsettled when that didn't happen. To his surprise, the painkiller didn't seem to have any great effect at all.

He stood quietly, a little ways away from the bed, out of the boy's sight, because he couldn't imagine that seeing him would be any comfort to Potter, and indeed would likely upset him even more.

Except that Potter didn't seem to be aware of anything beyond the pain of breathing. Poppy had moved back to take his hands in her own, and Severus could see that Potter was holding on so tightly his knuckles were white. The boy didn't make any sound, except for the soft rasp of his tortured breathing, but from his sideways view Severus could see the sheen of sweat on his brow and the drop of blood that fell from his lip.

Time passed, and it all began to seem like a nightmare. Severus wanted to tell the boy to go ahead and cry, or scream, or do something. But Potter bore his suffering with brave fortitude, and Severus had to admire his courage, even while guilt eroded his self defenses and gnawed at him until it was almost a physical pain in itself.

For this was all his fault, wasn't it? Whatever he'd done, Potter didn't deserve to suffer like this. Wasn't it just last night that Severus had prided himself on the fact that he'd never physically abused a child? He couldn't say that any longer though, could he? It may not have been intentional, but it was his carelessness that had led to the boy being so gravely injured.

He watched in silence as Poppy kept on trying to sooth Potter, speaking in a low, gentle tone, encouraging him and reassuring him that it would be better soon. Severus couldn't make out much of what she said, but the soft words flowed over them like a stream of water slipping over smooth rocks.

In the middle of the afternoon, Poppy gave the boy another dose of the potions, and she and Severus watched anxiously to see if they would begin to take effect. But once again, they didn't seem to give Potter any relief and the anguished vigil continued.

Harry woke to pain. It was like a thousand knives stabbing him with every breath. He was lying in bed in the Hogwarts' infirmary, and sunlight was spilling through the high windows. But he couldn't even begin to wonder how he'd gotten out of Snape's lab and to the infirmary. The pain was too intense to let him think beyond it.

He tried to stay quiet. He'd learned long ago that crying and whinging never helped. But he couldn't stop a low groan from escaping his lips when he first woke and it was enough to bring Madame Pomfrey hurrying to his side.

She held a vial filled with an orange liquid to his lips and coaxed him to drink. Then another, filled with an emerald-green potion this time, ‘for the pain' she said. But it didn't do any good.

Then she sat on the side of his bed and reached for his hands. "Hold onto me, dear, as hard as you need to. It might help a bit."

So Harry did. Later on, he found out that he'd actually bruised her hands, and felt badly about it, but at the moment, he just needed something to hang onto...hard, because it was the only thing that helped him to bear the unbearable agony of breathing. White-hot rivulets of pain seared through his lungs with every breath he took, and of course there was no way to stop it because he had to breathe. He tried to breathe as shallowly as possible, but it was still horrible.

At some point Snape was there, too, with more potions that didn't seem to help an iota. Harry couldn't even find the energy to hate the man. There was nothing but the pain.

Snape moved away, but Harry had the impression that he was still around, just as he had the impression that Madame Pomfrey was talking to him. He could hear the sound of her voice, but couldn't concentrate on her words.

He didn't think he'd ever felt pain like this. It was worse than the time Uncle Vernon had beaten him across his back with a belt. It was far worse than any Quidditch injury he'd ever suffered. After a while, he began to think it was even worse than the Cruciatus curse or the times his scar had exploded in agony when he'd connected with Voldemort.

Or perhaps not worse, but at least those times hadn't lasted for hours and hours with no respite. He could understand how Neville's parents had been driven insane. He began to feel as if he were losing his own mind. He wasn't Harry, with his own thoughts and emotions and desires. He was only mindless agony.

Sweat dripped from his brow, and he felt a dim ache in his lip, where he had been biting it in an effort not to scream. Harry bit down even harder. It hurt, too, but he hoped that maybe that pain could somehow distract him from the torture of breathing. It didn't.

He began to wish he would just go ahead and die. Death would be better than this awful, endless suffering. But death was elusive. It came when he didn't want it, but it wouldn't come to release him now.

Harry gripped Madame Pomfrey's hands even harder and prayed the end would come soon.

***

Finally, just before sunset, the pain began to ease. Slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, the agony dulled and became more bearable. Breathing was still uncomfortable, but then Madame Pomfrey held the bottles of potions to his lips again, and this time, they helped.

Harry thought it still hurt a bit to breathe, but somehow he felt distanced from it, as if layers of fog had fallen between him and the pain. He was sleepy all of a sudden, too, so sleepy. He relaxed and leaned back against his pillows as Madame Pomfrey conjured a damp cloth and wiped his face with it.

"Your lungs are beginning to heal, Harry, dear, so it will be easier to breathe now, and the pain potions should help, too. The worst is over, sweetheart. Sleep and you'll feel much better when you wake up."

Harry didn't have to be told twice. A wave of drowsiness swept over him. He closed his eyes and gratefully fell into a deep sleep.

***

Severus and Poppy went back to her office in silence and sank into armchairs, both of them unutterably weary and drained. Almost in slow motion, Poppy took her wand and waved it over first one hand and then the other, easing the soreness after letting Potter hang onto her all day.

Severus slumped in his chair, his elbows propped on his knees and his head resting in his hands. He didn't know the last time he'd been so exhausted, and the mental and emotional fatigue was as bad as the physical tiredness.

Watching over Potter had been an ordeal, similar to some of the Death Eater meetings he'd been to, where Voldemort and his followers had amused themselves by tormenting innocents. Severus had convinced the Dark Lord that he couldn't have blood on his hands if some of the delicate potions he brewed were to contain their full potency, so he himself had never had to participate in those events, but he had sometimes had to watch. It had always been a terrible strain on Severus' nerves and only his fantastic ability to Occlude and bury his emotions had allowed him to survive.

But this had been even worse, because at the Death Eater meetings Severus could place most of the blame on others. This time, he had to blame himself.

He wasn't used to feeling guilty about the way he treated Potter. Yes, he was harsh with the boy, unkind even at times, but the brat was spoiled and conceited, just like his father...always thinking he was too good to follow the rules, always thinking he was better than everyone else. Potter had always deserved the things Severus had said and done.

Until now.

Much as he despised Potter, Severus could never think that the boy had deserved the torment he'd been through that day. There might be permanent damage to his lungs, too. Poppy had said she wouldn't be able to tell for another day or so. What would that mean for the war? What would that mean for Potter himself?

Unfamiliar feelings welled up inside Severus...regret, anxiety, uncertainty. How the hell was he supposed to act towards the boy now? He hadn't meant for this to happen, and he truly regretted it all, but at the same time, if Potter hadn't read his journal, none of it would have happened.

For a long time, the two of them just sat. Severus wanted to go to bed and sleep, but at the same time, he was so tired he couldn't bring himself to move.

Finally Poppy sighed and spoke, her words slurred from pure exhaustion. "I'm going to lie down on a cot in there with Harry and Albus. I'll ask that house elf, Dobby, to come sit up here, too, and he can wake me if either of them need me. Severus, I still want to know more about how Harry came to be in this shape, but right now we both need some rest before we fall over. Are you staying here or going back to Prince Hall?"

"Here, I suppose. I don't think I have the energy to Floo anyway." Severus stood and as he did, he accidently bumped against the corner of Poppy's desk and knocked a black leather-bound book to the floor.

Severus stared at it a moment before kneeling to pick it up. "This looks like..." he began slowly.

Poppy nodded. "It's yours, the Romano journal you said I could borrow. I went to get it yesterday. Harry said you'd gone to Diagon Alley, but I didn't think you'd mind since you'd already said I could borrow it."

"I don't mind," Severus replied, setting the book back down on the desk. Something niggled at him, making him vaguely uncomfortable. Something about the Romano book, with its ebony leather binding, and it being in the library...but he was too tired to figure it out right now.

"I almost got your journal by mistake, Severus," Poppy went on. "I picked it up first, but then I realised what it was. I didn't read anything," she hurried to assure him. "I just saw your handwriting and knew I had the wrong book, so I set yours down and..."

"What?!" Severus demanded, his face turned deathly white and his eyes were like burnt coals.

Poppy stared at him. "I set your journal down on one of those little tables, and..."

Severus shook his head. His voice was rough. "Oh, dear Merlin, no..."

Poppy stared at him, completely befuddled. "Severus? What is it?"

Severus slowly shook his head again, as if that simple action could change things. But it was true. He knew in his heart it was true. In the back of his mind, he could vaguely recall Potter's bewilderment at Severus' fury, and the way he'd denied it when Severus had accused him of reading the journal. But Severus had been too infuriated to notice or listen then.

If only he had.

Guilt and remorse clogged his throat, making it difficult to speak, but he finally managed to say in a hoarse voice. "I thought he'd read my journal while I was gone. That's why he was cleaning my lab."

"That's what caused this?" Poppy gasped, looking horrified. "But didn't Harry tell you what happened?"

"I...didn't give him a chance to explain," Severus admitted, his voice barely above a whisper by now. He was finding it hard to look Poppy in the eye. "I was too angry."

Poppy's lips thinned, the way they did when she was very upset, but all she said was, "I am much too tired to discuss this rationally now. But Severus, you ought to get on your knees and beg that boy's forgiveness."

She swept out of the office, leaving him alone with his guilt.

After a few minutes, Severus followed her back into the infirmary. Poppy was standing close to the fireplace, speaking quietly with a small house elf who was wearing the oddest assortment of clothing items that Severus had ever seen. The elf nodded eagerly, almost jumping up and down with excitement, before hurrying over to perch on a cot near Albus' and Potter's sleeping forms.

Before retiring, Poppy went back to check on her patients one more time, pausing by Albus' bedside first before moving over to Potter. She waved her wand over him, then gently ran her fingers through his hair and let her hand rest on his brow for a few seconds before she turned away to go to another cot and lay down upon it, falling sound asleep almost as soon her head touched the pillow.

Severus glanced longingly at yet another empty cot, but instead of going to it, he felt drawn to the boy's side. Potter was still pale and there were dark shadows under his closed eyes. Severus swallowed hard and wondered what in the world he would do once the boy regained consciousness.

He would have to apologise, of course. He dreaded it...apologies didn't come easily for him, but he had to. It wouldn't do any good. Potter would hate him...more than ever. But regardless, Severus knew he still had to apologise. Really, he should do more. Poppy was right. He ought to get on his knees and beg Potter for forgiveness. He'd misjudged the child badly. It had been his mistake, but Potter was the one who'd suffered because of it.

As he remembered how Potter had bravely endured the terrible pain for hours, Severus felt an inexplicable urge to smooth the child's hair back from his forehead, as Poppy had done, and reassure him that everything would be all right.

Then he scowled at himself. What had gotten into him? Potter was still an arrogant little brat. Or was he? For the first time, a tendril of doubt crept into Severus' mind. He tried to shove it away. Of course Potter was spoiled and conceited. Severus had watched the boy for years. He knew Potter was insufferable. Severus' actions over the past five years had been based on that incontrovertible fact. He could not start doubting it now.

And yet...

He had misjudged the boy about the journal. He couldn't deny that. He'd also been wrong about Potter's Muggle relatives and the way they had treated him. Was it possible, just possible, that he might have misjudged the boy in other ways, too?

Severus glanced over at Albus, who still lay on his cot, peacefully unaware that Severus' world was tipping on its axis. His mentor had tried, over and over again, to convince him that Harry Potter was nothing like his father James, that the boy was really kind-hearted and generous and in many ways, humble and unassuming.

Severus could have dismissed Albus' words as just more of the old wizard's blatant favouritism for his pet Gryffindor, and in fact he had done that for years, but Poppy was fond of Potter, too, and had always staunchly defended him against Severus' accusations.

So had Minerva McGonagall, and despite being the Head of Gryffindor House, Severus had to admit that she was always scrupulously fair to the students, even his Slytherins. She had been fond of James Potter and his cronies, but even so she had not been blind to their faults and she had punished them severely when she had realised they'd been bullying Severus.

Even Norie and Zan liked Potter, and they'd only known him for a week, while they'd known Severus for years. At first, he'd been annoyed, almost feeling as if Norie and Zan were being disloyal by becoming fond of the boy, but now it gave him pause.

All the people he liked and respected had told him that he was mistaken about Harry Potter. Could it be that they were right and he was wrong? Could he have allowed his own prejudices to blind him to the boy's true nature?

"Master Professor, sir? Is you needing something?" A small voice interrupted his thoughts.

Severus glanced over at the elf. He started to say ‘no', but then something made him ask, "You think highly of Harry Potter, don't you?"

The elf nodded. "Oh, yes, sir! Harry Potter is a very great wizard."

"Why? Why do you like him?" He expected the elf to blather on about Potter's fame, the way he'd defeated the Dark Lord fourteen years ago.

Instead the elf said, "Harry Potter has always been kind to Dobby, sir. He has always treated Dobby with respect, even when Dobby was just a poor slave to the Malfoys. Harry Potter always listened to Dobby, even if he didn't take the advice. But he always listened and treated Dobby as an equal."

"Thank you." Severus sighed and decided that he was simply too tired to ponder the matter any further right now. He was about to fall asleep on his feet. He moved towards an empty cot, but before lying down, he turned back to the elf.

"You're keeping watch over Potter and Albus, aren't you?"

"Yes, Master Professor, and waking Madame Pomfrey if they need her."

"Wake me, too," Severus requested. Then he let himself collapse onto the cot and fall asleep.

***

Madame Pomfrey had been right.

He did feel much better. His chest felt bruised and sore, but it didn't really hurt to breathe anymore. Harry sighed in relief and opened his eyes. Daylight again. He thought the sun had been setting when he'd finally been able to drop off into sleep, so it was probably the next day...unless he'd been out of it for several days, which was entirely possible.

Moving slowly and cautiously, in case the pain started up again, Harry eased himself to a sitting position. He was still in the Hogwarts' infirmary. His red striped shirt and blue jeans were gone, replaced by soft green pyjamas. His glasses were resting on a table beside his cot. Harry slid them on and looked around.

Dumbledore was lying on the cot beside him, wearing a dark blue robe and apparently sound asleep. His right hand and arm were heavily bandaged, from his fingertips up to the elbow.

Harry stared at him for a while, wondering what in the world had happened. He couldn't imagine anything being able to hurt Dumbledore, but it seemed that something had. But surely he would be all right. He had to be.

Finally tearing his gaze away from the headmaster, Harry turned his head and froze. Snape was resting on another nearby cot. As always, he wore black robes. His eyes were closed and he, too, seemed to be asleep. But you never knew for sure with Snape.

Harry bit down on his bottom lip and then drew in a sharp breath at the sudden pain. His lungs gave a fierce twinge and Harry closed his eyes and was still for a moment before slowly taking another breath. There...that was better. He just needed to take gentle breaths.

He reached up to touch his lip, realising that it was puffy and tender. Oh, yes, he'd bitten down on it for hours yesterday...or whatever day it had been. He'd barely noticed that pain at the time, his lungs had hurt so much worse.

Harry opened his eyes again to stare at Snape. He should hate the man. He should be terrified. He was still Snape's slave and Snape could do anything he wanted to him. Hadn't the man said so, when he'd been screaming at Harry for looking in the journal? Hadn't he said that he could beat Harry or starve him or do anything at all? And then all this had happened.

Harry supposed he did feel some resentment and fear, deep down, but mostly he just felt numb. He hoped it lasted, because feeling numb was better than the way he'd been feeling ever since Sirius had died.

Sirius.

At the thought of his godfather, a horrible wave of grief swept the numbness away. Harry wanted it back. He didn't want to feel anything anymore. Feeling hurt too much. It might be his greatest strength, as Dumbledore had said. But Dumbledore didn't have to live with the overwhelming pain that Harry had to.

Yes, numbness was much, much better. It was almost as good as being asleep. Harry wished he could just sleep forever, and not have to face Snape again, or Voldemort or Death Eaters. For that matter, he wished he could just go ahead and die. That would be even better than sleeping because then he could be with Sirius again. He could be with his mum and dad.

What would that be like? To get to meet his parents, to be able to talk with them and see them, not just in a photograph but in person? If only he could be with them and with Sirius again! They had all loved him. They had all loved him enough to die for him.

Harry wanted to be with them so much that his eyes filled with tears at the idea. He wanted to be able to hug them and tell them he loved them. He wanted them to hug him in return and tell him that they loved him, too. He would never be an unwelcome burden to his parents and Sirius. They would want him. They would never do anything to hurt him. He would be safe and wanted and loved...if only he could be with them.

But he couldn't. He couldn't die now. According to that horrible prophecy, Harry was the only one who had a chance of defeating Voldemort. He couldn't give up and let Voldemort win. What would happen to Ron and Hermione if he did? What would happen to the rest of the Weasleys, and Neville and Luna and Ginny? What would happen to all the courageous Order members who fought so hard against evil? Or all the innocent people that Voldemort would hurt and kill if he came to power?

No, Harry couldn't die now. He had to beat Voldemort.

Then it struck him with the force of a bolt of lightning. He couldn't die now...but after, after Voldemort was gone, then he could. Then he could go be with his mum and dad, and Sirius...and he'd be free.

He was still dreaming about the wonderful possibility of being with his real family, being free from all the pain and fear, being free from Snape, when Madame Pomfrey came bustling in from her office, carrying several vials of potions. She saw at once that he was awake and came hurrying over.

"Harry, dear, how do you feel?"

She must have been worried. She usually called him ‘Mr. Potter' like all the staff, except once in a while when he was really hurt or she felt very concerned for him.

Harry tried to smile at her. "All right, I guess." His voice was a little raspy.

"Any pain when you breathe?" She set the potion vials down on the table beside the cot and drew her wand, quickly checking him over.

"Not really." At her sharp gaze, Harry explained, "I'm a little sore, but it doesn't really hurt. It's not anything like before."

Madame Pomfrey finished her diagnostic spells and relaxed. "You seem to be healing well. That's very good news. I do think you're going to be all right."

Well, that was good. He would need to be healthy to defeat Voldemort.

"Madame Pomfrey, can you tell me what day it is?" Harry asked.

"Yesterday is when you were in such bad shape. You feel asleep at sunset, and slept through the night and part of today. It's just after lunch. I didn't know you were going to wake up so soon so I went ahead and spelled a nutritive potion into your system a little while ago when I woke up." She sat down on the cot and reached for his hand.

"Harry, Severus explained to me what happened, and we figured out that it was my moving his journal that led to all of this. I feel responsible and I'm so sorry that you were hurt."

Harry shook his head. "It wasn't your fault."

They both looked over at Snape, still sleeping on the cot. Madame Pomfrey spoke slowly, hesitantly. "Harry, Severus' behaviour was inexcusable. I can't blame you if you aren't able to forgive him. But I do know that he didn't mean for you to suffer. He was as shaken as I've ever seen him, especially when he realised that you were innocent."

She paused, as if waiting for Harry's reaction, but Harry didn't know what to say. Maybe Snape hadn't meant for him to be hurt, but he sure hadn't given Harry any chance to explain. He never gave Harry a chance about anything. He never had.

Harry didn't say anything and Madame Pomfrey patted his hand. "You have every right to be angry and resentful. Severus owes you a very big apology. But I did want you to know that he didn't mean for you to be hurt so badly, or at all, really." She sighed. "It's time for your potions, dear."

Harry took the potions, and within minutes, he'd fallen asleep again.

***

Severus woke up at dinnertime. He was surprised at himself for sleeping so long...all night and all day...but he had been completely exhausted. Poppy admitted that she'd napped again too, in the afternoon after dosing Potter. They sat in her office, with the door open so they could keep an eye on their patients while eating shepherd's pie and salad.

"So he woke up?" Severus knew Potter had, but for some reason he kept trying to get Poppy to talk about the boy, without being too obvious about it.

She nodded. "Yes, briefly. He seems to be healing well. He may be prone to catching colds and respiratory infections after this, so he'll have to take care not to get chilled, especially when winter comes. But with a little care, we should be able to keep anything from becoming serious. You'll need to keep a stock of Pepper-Up Potion and Fever Reducers handy, Severus, so you can treat him at the first sign of an illness."

He nodded. "I will."

For a little while they were quiet. Then Severus asked, "How is Albus?"

"He's doing pretty well, I think. He'll probably wake up tomorrow."

Severus bowed his head. He wanted Albus to wake and to be all right, but he dreaded having to tell him about Potter. Poppy had already read him the riot act and he was unsure how Albus would react. Severus wondered which would be worse, for Albus to be angry ( this happened only on rare occasions, but Albus was a fearsome sight to be behold when he was truly angry ) or for Albus to be disappointed. He almost thought he would rather face the anger than for his old friend to gaze at him with those sorrowful, reproachful eyes.

"When do you think Potter will wake up again?" He asked after another interval of silence.

"I hope he'll sleep through the night. He needs the rest." Poppy sighed, a little sadly. "I don't know if he will, though. Harry is a light sleeper. I think he has pretty bad nightmares a lot of nights. Ron Weasley has hinted at that before. He came to me a few times this past year, to get some Dreamless Sleep potion for Harry. He said Harry wouldn't come himself, but that he hardly ever slept a night through since the Triwizard Tournament."

"That's understandable," Severus said quietly. He hesitated, then ventured, "I thought Potter had dealt with the pressure rather well."

Poppy considered. "In some ways, yes. Harry is strong and courageous, and I think his friends help him a lot. But I also think he keeps a lot of things buried deep down. I worry about him sometimes. There's only so much one person can bear, Severus, and Harry is still only a child. It's all very unfair."

She gave Severus a sidelong glance, realising that all evening he'd found ways to keep their conversation centred on Harry. If she didn't know better, she'd think he was angling to get to know the boy better. Could it be possible? Well, she would do anything she could to help Severus see the real Harry. With deliberate casualness, she began sharing her memories of Harry.

Moonlight streamed through the infirmary windows, its soft silvery glow the only light in the long shadowy room. Four slumbering figures rested on the cots; three of them sleeping peacefully. The fourth tossed and turned in increasing agitation and finally cried out, haunted by visions of past tragedies.

Severus' eyes flew open and he turned his head sharply towards the sound. Harry was having a nightmare, just as Poppy had said he often did. Severus hesitated, but only for a second. Then he slipped out of bed and glided over to the boy's side, a silent dark figure in his habitual black robes. He just hadn't been able to bring himself to wear pyjamas in front of anyone so he'd contented himself with casting a refreshing charm on his clothes and then wearing them to bed.

He paused by Harry's cot. They were in the shadows, but Severus thought he saw traces of tears on the boy's face. He himself felt almost overcome with conflicting emotions; the old resentment warring with sympathy, regret, and his new uncertainties about Harry Potter.

But the boy had been through hell recently, and he'd always had to carry a burden that was far too heavy for any child to have to bear. He needed comfort. Severus tentatively reached over and gave the boy's upper arm a slight shake.

"Wake up, child," he said softly.

Harry flinched at the contact and gasped, as if in pain. For a second, Severus was bewildered until he remembered that he had left bruises on the boy's arms when he had shaken him so furiously. Poppy had been absolutely livid when she had informed him of that, perhaps even more angry about that than Harry's injured lungs.

Severus didn't know which he felt worse over. The damage to Harry's lungs had been far more painful and dangerous, but that had been at least partially an accident. Severus didn't want to call it an accident, because he knew the whole thing was his fault and he wasn't trying to excuse himself or justify his uncontrolled temper and inexcusable carelessness. But he had never meant for Harry to be poisoned.

But he had deliberately gripped the boy's arms hard enough to leave bruises and in a fit of rage, had shaken him violently. Just as Harry's relatives had done in the past. Severus loathed himself for that. He didn't know if Harry would be able to forgive him and perhaps be willing to give him another chance...the boy had already endured so much injustice at Severus' hands...but he knew he had to try to make things up to him.

He moved his hand away, but spoke in a gentle, reassuring tone that very few people had ever heard him use. "It's all right, Harry. You're safe now. It was just a nightmare and it's over."

Harry glanced around and he swallowed hard before saying, "I'm sorry for waking you."

Severus shook his head. "No, it...it is I who owes you an apology."

Even in the darkness, he could see the blank astonishment on the boy's face. Somehow, the fact that Harry had so obviously not expected him to feel any remorse made him feel worse than ever.

"I misjudged you and I lost my temper. I should have given you a chance to explain," Severus said, hating how the words sounded so stiff and inadequate. He just didn't know how to express his feelings. He'd never been very good at sharing his emotions, especially the difficult ones like remorse and guilt. At times like this, his eloquence deserted him and he felt completely tongue-tied and hopelessly clumsy.

But he owed this to Harry and even more, he wanted Harry to know how he felt, so he went on in spite the horrible awkwardness.

"I realise it may be difficult for you to believe, but I did not intend to leave you working in my lab all night, and I certainly never intended for you to be injured. I was going to fetch you after dinner. I meant for you to eat and then finish cleaning the next morning, but Poppy contacted me, saying that Albus had been critically injured and might be dying. I'm afraid that news drove all other thoughts from my mind. I rushed off to help her heal him, and I was not able to return home until morning. By then you had been breathing in poisonous fumes for hours."

He hesitated. "We're very fortunate that you are still alive."

Some emotion flickered across the boy's face so quickly that Severus couldn't be sure what it was. His words sounding more stilted than ever because it was so hard for him to show any hint of vulnerability, he added, "I do truly regret that you suffered because of my actions."

Harry stared down at his clasped hands lying atop the coverlet for so long that Severus wondered if he was going to respond. Finally the boy mumbled, "Yes, sir."

Severus supposed that meant his apology was accepted, at least on the surface. He didn't have any doubts that it would take a long time before Harry could really forgive him, but it was a beginning.

Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to escape back to his own cot and try to sleep again...he didn't think he'd ever felt more awkward in his life...but something made him ask, "Will you be able to sleep again now?"

Once again he thought the boy looked a bit surprised, but after a few seconds Harry nodded.

"Yes, sir," he repeated.

Severus stood up. "Good night, then."

He went back to his bed and lay down, but it was a long time before he could sleep.

***

Harry lay still, staring sightlessly at the ceiling, his mind still reeling from the discussion with Snape. The man had actually apologised to him. Never in a million years would Harry have thought Snape would do that. He was always so cold and so stoic. Harry would have never thought that Snape would admit to misjudging him or feel any remorse over Harry's pain. In fact, he had halfway expected Snape to berate him for his stupidity in mixing the wrong solutions.

Now he didn't know what to think. It was hard to believe that Snape was sincere, yet the professor had sounded so uncomfortable and awkward. It had obviously been hard for him. If he'd only been playing some sort of game or trick on Harry, wouldn't he have sounded more smooth and polished?

Well, Harry supposed it didn't really matter anyway. He was definitely going to stay out of Snape's way from here on. He'd eat his meals silently and unobtrusively and spend the rest of his time in his room. He had a lot of studying to do, anyway. He'd need to be as strong and as knowledgeable as possible to beat Voldemort so he needed to be thoroughly familiar with all the magical theory from his textbooks. It would be even better if he could actually practice the magic, but there was nothing he could do about being underage. He could read and study until he knew those books inside out, though, and surely it would help him to learn more quickly in the fall when school started and he could do magic again.

Of course, the skills he'd learn from his Hogwarts' textbooks weren't likely to be enough to beat Voldemort. Harry wasn't kidding himself about that. After all, fully trained Aurors with years of experience hadn't been able to destroy old Snake-face. How could a student just past his O.W.L.S. hope to?

But Harry couldn't think of any better plan right now, and learning his school lessons perfectly was a start, anyway. Maybe, come fall, he could find books about more advanced magic in the Hogwarts' library. Maybe he could ask Dumbledore to help him. Surely Snape wouldn't object to that. He knew Harry had to beat Voldemort.

Dumbledore.

Snape had said he'd been critically injured and had almost died. Harry looked quickly over at the next cot where the headmaster lay, still sleeping. Without his glasses and with the room being so dark, Harry could just make out a blurry lump. He squinted, trying to see more plainly. The old wizard had been asleep the whole time Harry had been in the infirmary, as far as he knew, but except for his bandaged arm he seemed well enough. Madame Pomfrey and Snape hadn't been fussing over him, either, so surely Dumbledore would be all right.

He had to be.

Harry knew Dumbledore was old, but wizards did tend to live quite a long time, unless they were victims of foul play or of some type of accident. One of their O.W.L. examiners had been a good bit older even than Dumbledore. Harry remembered her saying that she had tested him back when he'd been in school.

Besides, Dumbledore had always been so lively and so vital, so powerful. Harry really could not imagine anything happening to him. And yet, something had almost killed him.

Harry was surprised to find a lump in his throat. It wasn't that he didn't care about Dumbledore. In spite of the lingering anger and resentment he'd felt towards the headmaster these last weeks, Harry knew that he did care. A lot, in fact. He was intensely shaken by the sudden realisation that they could lose Dumbledore. It was frightening because without Dumbledore to protect and teach him, Harry didn't see how he could possibly win against Voldemort and the Death Eaters.

But it was much more than that, too. He really cared about Dumbledore himself. And that was scary, because Harry didn't want to feel that deeply about anything or anyone anymore. He had to protect himself. He had to stay numb and not let anyone into his heart again.

Harry's thoughts drifted to Ron and Hermione, and suddenly he wanted them so much it hurt. They were more than friends. They were the only family he had. Until the past couple of weeks, they'd been through everything together and they knew him better than anyone else. Just like he knew them.

He wanted them there, just sitting beside him, letting him know that he wasn't alone, that he was loved. He missed everything about them...Ron's jokes and laughter, Hermione's dedication and responsibility. He missed talking about Quidditch and playing chess with Ron. He missed Hermione's fretting and concern. He missed them.

For a while he let the memories come. Some of them were happy and some weren't, but they were all still memories of the best times of his life...meeting Ron on the Hogwarts' Express; saving Hermione from the mountain troll; he and Ron venturing into the Chamber of Secrets and their joy when Hermione had been un-petrified; Ron and Hermione staying right by his side in the Shrieking Shack when they'd thought Sirius was trying to kill him; the terrible fight with Ron at the beginning of fourth year and the way Hermione had stuck with him and helped him through that difficult time; and the joy when Ron had come back and their friendship had been restored.

Finally Harry let his thoughts drift to the past year. Fifth year had been horrible in a lot of ways. Harry didn't think he could have survived it without his friends. It was their love and support that had helped him to get through it. They'd been there with him every step of the way, even at the end, at the Ministry...

Oh, Merlin...he loved them so much. How could he stop caring now?

Harry closed his eyes and tried hard to push those memories away. It wasn't like Snape was going to let him stay friends with Ron and Hermione, after all. So for all intents and purposes, their friendship was over anyway.

It was just as well. Being close to him was a dangerous proposition. Two people had already died because of him, first Cedric Diggory and then Sirius. Four, actually, counting his parents, Harry realised, and Ginny Weasley had almost died simply because her family had welcomed Harry into their midst.

But no more. This fight was between Voldemort and himself, and Harry needed to make sure his friends didn't get caught in the crossfire ever again.

It would spare them grief when he died, too, because he was going to die, either in battle with Voldemort or afterwards. Perhaps Ron and Hermione wouldn't be too upset if he'd already cut ties with them. At least they'd still have each other.

And Harry could have his parents and Sirius. Feeling slightly comforted, he closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep.

***

Albus woke in mid-morning. Poppy and Severus were awake, of course, and Harry had woken very early. Severus had missed the opportunity to speak with him then...he'd still been sleeping at that point. Poppy had been awake and she'd reported that Harry seemed fine, though he would still need to take the tissue restoration potion for another week or so. She'd ordered his breakfast and given him a dose of the potion, which also contained a strong sedative, and the boy had already fallen back asleep when Severus woke an hour later.

He performed another refreshing charm and ordered his own breakfast from the kitchen, all the while casting surreptitious glances at the boy. He didn't want Poppy to think he was growing soft, but as soon as she went into her office for a few minutes, he walked over to Harry's bedside.

The child was too thin. He'd eaten next to nothing since he'd been at Prince Hall, Severus knew, and probably hadn't eaten well for a few weeks before that. No doubt grieving for his dead godfather. Severus had despised Sirius Black, and the feeling had been entirely mutual, but he knew that Harry had been close to Black.

What with his godfather's death and then having to deal with the slavery spell soon after, it was no wonder Harry hadn't had much appetite lately. Severus would have to try to encourage him to eat more once they were back home.

Harry did seem to be breathing easily, and Severus was profoundly grateful for that. Once again he felt a baffling urge to card his fingers through the child's hair, but just then he heard Poppy bustling around in her office and he quickly moved back to sit on his own cot before she could catch him coddling the boy.

The next couple of hours passed quietly. Harry and Albus slept. Poppy was apparently re-organising her files in the office, but she came back frequently to check on her patients. Severus settled himself on his cot and skimmed through some old potions journals, though he too kept an eye on Harry and Albus.

It occurred to him that he wasn't needed, that there was really no reason why he couldn't return to the Hall and have Poppy send Harry back on his own when she decided to release him. She'd said probably by late afternoon if he was doing well.

But something made him stay. His sense of duty, Severus supposed. He'd always had a strong sense of duty, and the boy was his responsibility now. He should be at the infirmary as long as Harry was there, just in case. So he stayed, though he firecalled Norie and Zan to let them know Harry was healing and to make a few other arrangements.

It was about ten o'clock in the morning when Albus stirred and opened his eyes. He looked around, noting the infirmary's other occupants, and asked, "Severus?"

Severus dropped the journal he'd been reading and called softly, so as not to wake Harry. "Poppy."

She'd already heard Albus and was on her way to his bedside. "How do you feel, Albus?"

He smiled. "Much better than I did at last memory. I owe you a tremendous debt of gratitude, Poppy."

"You're welcome, but you really owe that debt to Severus. He did more to save you than I did. I'm afraid I really had no idea how to help you, Albus. I've never seen a curse like that one. When Hagrid brought you in, the only thing I could think of to do was to call Severus."

Albus nodded. "Yes, it was quite a debilitating curse. It was all I could do to Apparate myself back to the Hogwarts' gates. I wasn't even entirely sure I'd made it. I must have lost consciousness just as I landed. So Hagrid found me?"

"Yes," Poppy said. "And thank Heavens he just happened to be coming back from Hogsmeade right at the moment you appeared. You might have lain by the gates for hours before someone found you."

"A most fortuitous bit of luck," Albus agreed.

Poppy ran through some diagnostic spells. "Well, you do seem to be well on the way to recovery, Albus. Your arm is burned, but if you apply healing salve three times a day, it will as good as new in a week. Otherwise, you are very healthy, and very fortunate." She raised her eyebrows. "I suppose it would be pointless to inquire for details on exactly how you were injured."

"For right now, yes," Albus told her. He turned to look over at the next cot. "I can understand why the two of you are here, but why is Harry?"

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Poppy murmured something about working in her office and disappeared. Severus took a deep breath and explained how Harry had come to be hurt.

He couldn't quite bring himself to meet Albus' eyes, instead focusing on the white wall behind him. It was the hardest thing he'd done since he'd come to Albus for help when he'd left Voldemort. Perhaps even harder. He had promised not to abuse the boy, to keep him safe. He'd failed on both counts.

When he'd finished the tale, he made himself meet his mentor's gaze. Albus's face was grave, a mixture of disapproval and disappointment, but all he said was, "How do you intend to make amends, Severus?"

Severus ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know, Albus," he said quietly. "I did apologise to him. I know that it isn't enough, but I will try...." His voice trailed off uncertainly.

"You apologised to Harry?" Albus asked quietly.

"Yes, of course."

Albus gave him a searching look before saying. "Well, it's a start. I do trust that you will take better care of Harry from now on."

Albus' voice was stern, and Severus recognised it as a warning. He felt slightly indignant, but at the same time he knew he deserved it so he only nodded.

Albus nodded, too, and stood up. "Very well. If I can manage to convince Poppy to release me, I'd like to see you alone in my office, Severus. I didn't want to go into details in front of her, but as Harry's guardian, I think you ought to know more about how I was injured." He lowered his voice. "I think we've finally taken the first step towards victory."

***

Dumbledore was sitting in a chair beside his cot when Harry woke up again. It reminded Harry of the day not long ago when he'd awoken only to have Dumbledore tell him that somehow he'd become Snape's slave. For a moment, Harry wished he could go back to sleep, but Dumbledore had already seen his eyes open and was handing him his glasses.

"Harry, I heard about what happened, and I'm so sorry. Are you all right now?"

Sure, I'm a slave to one of my worst enemies. I have no freedom or rights. I've lost everything I ever had. But I'm all right. Everything's just great, so no worries.

Since he couldn't tell Dumbledore what he was really thinking, Harry only nodded.

He felt the headmaster's gaze on him, raised his eyes, and was surprised at how sorrowful Dumbledore looked. "Sir, are you all right? They said you were badly hurt."

Dumbledore smiled a little, but Harry thought he still looked sad. "Yes, thank you, Harry. I'm much better now. I'm afraid I injured my arm a bit." He motioned towards his bandaged arm. "But Madam Pomfrey assures me it will heal soon." With his good arm, he reached to place a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I just wish I could help you."

Harry looked away, determinedly blinking back tears, and after a second, Dumbledore went on, his voice brisk with forced cheerfulness.

"I have something for you, by the way." He reached into the pocket of his emerald green robes and pulled out several envelopes. "Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley were most upset about having to leave school before you had woken. I promised to let them know once you were awake, and I did so, though I didn't tell them about the slavery spell. They seem to have been keeping the owls busy ever since."

Harry took the letters and turned them over in his hand. His eyes blurred at the familiar sight of Ron's loopy scrawl and Hermione's neat handwriting. But then another thought occurred to him and he looked up at Dumbledore.

"But I'm not at Privet Drive anymore. How do they know where to send the letters?"

"I paid a visit to your relatives the day you left for Prince Hall," Dumbledore explained. "While I was there, I put a charm on the house so that any owls bringing messages from your friends would be re-directed to Hogwarts. Harry, you may write back to your friends, of course..."

If Snape lets me, Harry thought to himself, but didn't interrupt.

"But I am going to ask you not to tell them about the slavery spell, or the fact that you are no longer living with your aunt and uncle. Owl post is not completely safe from being intercepted these days and we do not want Voldemort or his followers to learn about this."

Harry didn't want anyone to ever learn that he was a slave, so he immediately nodded in agreement. Before Dumbledore could say anything else, Snape and Madame Pomfrey came out of her office.

Snape looked rather impatient. "Yes, Poppy, I have plenty of tissue restoration potion at home, and yes, I know he takes it twice a day, in the mornings and evenings, for a week. I think I can manage without assistance."

Madame Pomfrey looked as if she wanted to make some sharp retort, but then she looked over at Harry and her face softened. "Well, dear, I think you're able to go home now. Professor Snape has invited both Albus and me to dinner on Friday evening so we'll see you then."

Harry wished fiercely that he didn't have to go, that he could just stay at Hogwarts instead. He liked Norie and Zan, and Prince Hall was beautiful, but it was Snape's home, not his. Hogwarts was his home and he hated leaving it, especially since it meant he would be alone with Snape again. But he'd better get used to that.

Harry took a deep breath and reminded himself that it was only temporary. One day he'd be free again. One day he'd be with his real family, and the first step towards making that day come was to go back to Prince Hall and start studying and learning all he could.

So he said good-bye to Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey and followed Snape over to the fireplace. The professor tossed some Floo powder in and looked at Harry. "Are you ready?"

Harry was surprised that he didn't sneer or sound hateful. He was even more surprised at how gently Snape's hand curled around his arm as they stepped into the grate. Then green flames shot high around them, and they were on their way back to Prince Hall.

Severus stepped out of the fireplace of the upstairs sitting room, guiding Harry along with him. Norie and Zan were waiting eagerly and as soon as the boy was out of the grate they were swarming all over him, offering sympathy and wanting to know how he felt. Norie kept asking Harry if he'd had all the doses of his potions, and if he wanted anything to eat or drink, while Zan suggested several times that he might want to lie down and rest for a while before dinner, and if Harry was very tired they could bring a tray to his bed.

Severus shook his head slightly at them, but stayed quiet. He was persona non grata with the elves right now and anyway, he did understand that they had been very worried and upset over Harry's injury. He himself had been concerned, was still concerned actually, and though he wasn't the sort to fuss over anyone, he could understand that Norie and Zan needed to.

Harry reassured them that he was fine now, but he seemed very quiet and dispirited. Norie and Zan didn't look convinced, and Severus felt his own concern grow. Perhaps if they gave him a little time to settle back in ...

"If you're ready, Harry, I'll see you to your rooms," he said and led the way across the hall. When he'd firecalled the elves earlier, he'd asked them to move Harry from the small distant room he'd put the boy in to the suite across the hall from his own. It was a much nicer set of rooms and it would be easier to keep an eye on Harry if he were close by.

Harry risked a quick glance at him at the word ‘rooms', but he didn't question it, following Severus in silence. At the doorway to his new quarters though, he paused and looked around uncertainly.

They were standing in a spacious sitting room, with a small sofa and a couple of armchairs set before a wide fireplace with a carved stone mantel. The sofa and chairs were light beige, with brown and sage-green throw pillows, and a warm fleecy ivory and gold patterned blanket was neatly folded across the back of the sofa.

It was a corner room, and two broad windows overlooking the gardens and the moor bathed it in gentle sunlight. Window seats with brown and sage-green pillows were built into the thick walls, and a faded brown and gold patterned rug covered much of the stone floor. A generous-sized bookcase and a desk, made of gleaming mahogany wood, were set by the walls, and a small table rested between the sofa and chairs.

A wide arched doorway led to the bedroom, where a huge four-poster bed was covered with a soft beige comforter and brown and sage-green pillows. There was a night table on the right side of the bed, and a large wardrobe stood against the inside wall. Another tall window took up much of the space on the opposite wall, and a small corner door led to a bath. Harry's trunk was set at the foot of the bed and the snowy owl slumbered in her cage on the desk.

Severus surreptitiously studied the boy, trying to gauge his reaction to the rooms, but he couldn't tell how Harry felt. He cleared his throat. "Madame Pomfrey said you would need to continue taking potions for seven days, and for you to rest and not exert yourself during that time. I thought it might be wise to move you a bit closer to my own rooms while you are recuperating."

He hesitated. He'd planned on it being a permanent move, but it dawned on him that possibly Harry might resent these decisions being made for him. "If you wish, these rooms will be yours from now on. I probably should have given them to you to start with. But if you prefer your old room, then you may move back to it next week. It's your decision."

Harry hesitated, too, but then gave a small nod and said quietly, "They're very nice rooms. Thank you, sir."

Severus wondered if that meant Harry wanted to stay here or if he would move back up to the little room on the third floor once he was completely well, but he wasn't about to ask. He already felt uncomfortable enough.

"Dinner will be ready soon." He eyed Harry, realising that the boy was still in his pyjamas and that he looked tired. "As Zan mentioned, if you do not feel like coming downstairs, then you may have a tray brought up here."

Harry nodded immediately. "Yes, thank you."

"Well, then, I suppose you should rest. I'll bring your potion up with your dinner." Severus left, feeling that odd mix of emotions that had plagued him ever since he'd accepted that he might have misjudged Harry Potter...mingled relief at escaping the awkwardness but also a strange reluctance to leave, a desire to get to know the boy better, and a little twinge that was not disappointment over Harry's choosing to eat dinner in his room.

Norie and Zan were hovering in the hallway, no doubt to ensure that he wasn't going to abuse their precious Harry. Norie glared and Zan gave him that reproachful look again.

Severus sighed as he brushed past them to go back to his own fireplace and Flooed down to his laboratory. It was not a good place to escape his guilt, but he needed to bottle some of the tissue restoration potion and make sure he had all the ingredients to brew some Pepper-Up and Fever Reducing potions. Poppy had warned him that Harry would be vulnerable to colds and such. Severus wanted to be ready to give the boy whatever he might need.

***

Norie and Zan came in as soon as Snape had left.

"Master Harry, dear, is you sure you's feeling all right?" Norie gazed at him anxiously.

Harry tried to smile to reassure her. "Yes, Norie, thank you. I feel much better now. I'm just a little tired."

"We will let you rest then, but you is to call us if you needs anything," Zan instructed.

This time the smile came a little easier. "I will, thanks," Harry told them.

The elves departed, both looking reluctant to leave him, and Harry felt a small glow of warmth. It was nice to know they cared.

He looked around his rooms again, not sure what to think of them. They were beautiful rooms, nicer than the one he'd been staying in. They were even nicer than the Gryffindor dorms, and definitely better than anything he'd ever had at the Dursleys. It was funny, because he'd known from the time he was eleven that he'd inherited all the Potter wealth, but Harry had never imagined himself living in a place like Prince Hall, in rooms that were simultaneously grand and comfortable-looking.

But these rooms brought him closer than ever to Snape. The professor's rooms were just across the hall. He didn't want Snape lurking around, waiting to pounce on him for any little mistake, real or imagined.

And what would happen when he had nightmares? For the nightmares were inevitable and now that he couldn't cast silencing charms around his bed, he would be sure to wake Snape. Harry shivered at the thought...Snape, even more bad-tempered than usual from being woken in the middle of the night, catching him at his weakest moments.

But that had already happened, hadn't it? He'd woken from horrible visions of Sirius' death to find Snape sitting on the side of his bed and speaking to him so gently that Harry still wasn't sure if it had been real. Could Snape have really spoken to him in that tone of voice, as if he were actually human instead of a heartless git? Could Snape have truly apologised for the whole journal debacle? And if so, could it be that he might not be completely horrible if Harry happened to wake him again?

No, better not to trust him, Harry decided after a moment. Snape might have had a moment of temporary insanity, but he was still Snape. He'd despised Harry for years and that wasn't about to change. Snape would rip him to shreds if he caught Harry's weakness after a nightmare, and then do it all over again in front of his classmates when they were back at Hogwarts in the fall.

Unless, maybe if he were really lucky and somehow managed to defeat Voldemort this summer, and then he could be with his parents and Sirius before school started again....

But when had he ever been really lucky? Harry sighed. What were the odds of him being able to defeat Voldemort this summer? There was no doubt that old Snake-face would attack if he were given half a chance, but Harry had no clue how he could beat the dark wizard. One day he would. One day he would win and then he could be free, but he still had a lot to learn before that wonderful day came.

So for right now, he just couldn't let Snape catch him having nightmares, which meant that he couldn't sleep. At least he couldn't sleep at night with Snape right across the hall. Maybe during the day, if Snape were busy elsewhere, he could risk having a lie-down then, and next week he could go back to his old room where there was enough distance between them that Snape wasn't likely to hear if he screamed or cried in the night. He just had to make it through til then. It wouldn't be easy, but he could manage somehow. He always did.

Harry started to go over and get Hedwig out of her cage. It would be comforting to hold her on his arm and stroke her feathers, but she was sleeping soundly and it didn't seem right to wake her up when she was so peaceful just for his own selfish reasons, so instead Harry decided to take everyone's advice and rest for a while. At least he could eat up here alone tonight and not have to face a meal with Snape until morning.

He went over to the bed and laid down on it, leaning back gingerly against the pillows. It was as soft and comfortable as it looked and after a minute, Harry found that he was relaxing in spite of himself. He wished he could sleep. If he was going to have to stay up all night then it would be wise to take advantage of every opportunity to sleep that he had. But he had slept for much of the day, and he just wasn't sleepy right now.

Instead he pulled out the folded envelopes he'd stuffed into the pockets of his pyjama trousers. Ron's and Hermione's letters. He opened the first one and began reading.

***

An hour later Harry was still lying on his bed, surrounded by envelopes and parchment. He'd read every letter from his friends and was considering the best way to respond to them without telling them that he was Snape's slave and had to live with him now.

He felt a little guilty about keeping such monumental news from them, but he just didn't feel able to tell anyone yet, even Ron and Hermione whom he loved more than anyone else in the world. Knowing that he was a slave just hurt too much. He still felt shattered inside whenever he let himself think about it. His friends would have to hear about it one day, but not yet. Besides, he couldn't tell them now even if he'd wanted to. Dumbledore had said owl post wasn't safe enough.

Harry was so deep in thought that he jumped when there was a knock on the door and Snape came in, carrying a tray with a plate of food, a glass of pumpkin juice, and two vials of potions. The professor cast a disparaging eye at the mess of parchments lying haphazardly all over the bed, but he didn't say anything about it.

"Dinner is ready," the professor announced, rather unnecessarily Harry thought. His voice sounded a little stilted, but not hostile. It was the same way he'd been talking to Harry since last night and it was so unusual for Snape not to sound hateful that Harry just didn't know how to respond in kind.

Snape came over to the bed as Harry sat up a bit, and set the tray before him. "You should take the tissue restoration potion after you eat." He gestured towards the vial filled with orange liquid. "Take the other before you go to sleep tonight."

Harry hesitated, then asked. "What is it? Sir?"

"A dreamless sleep potion. It will help you to rest without having nightmares," Snape answered quietly.

For a minute Harry just stared. Was Snape actually doing something nice for him? No, he probably was just worried about Harry waking him in the middle of the night, too. Nonetheless, it was a relief to know that he didn't have to try to stay awake all night.

"Thank you," Harry finally managed to say.

Snape nodded stiffly. He looked uncomfortable, yet made no move to leave. Harry felt himself growing nervous. Snape wasn't going to eat up here with him, was he? After all, the whole reason Harry had claimed not to feel well enough to go to the dining room was to avoid Snape. But Snape hadn't brought a plate for himself so surely he would go and let Harry be alone, wouldn't he?

"Is there anything else you need?" Snape wanted to know.

Harry stared at him again in shock before giving his head a slight shake. "No, sir." Then as Snape finally turned to leave, he had to amend, "I mean, yes, sir."

Snape turned back to regard with him with sharp obsidian eyes. "Are you feeling worse?"

"Oh, no, sir. I'm all right. It wasn't anything like that. It's just that my friends have been writing to me." Harry motioned towards the papers around him. "And I wanted to know if I could write back to them. I know not to tell them that I'm here or anything, but just...just to write back to them," he finished lamely, then braced himself for Snape's cutting refusal.

But the professor seemed to be seriously considering his request. "You know not to tell them about the spell?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir."

"I suppose it would be all right, as long as you stick to generalities," Snape conceded. Then he swept away, leaving Harry feeling more bewildered and surprised than ever.

Harry crumpled up a sheet of parchment and pushed it aside with a frustrated sigh. It was his fourth attempt to write a letter to Ron, and trying to come up with a reply that would reassure his friend and yet not give away any information about his new circumstances was beginning to seem impossible. He didn't want to lie to Ron and Hermione, but it was going to be hard not to.

After a while, he dipped his quill into his ink bottle and began again.

Dear Ron,

Sorry it's taken me so long to get back in touch with you, but things have been pretty busy around here. Don't worry; I'm all right. I woke up a few days after you guys had gone home, and I've been fine. Thanks for sitting with me while I was out of it, and yeah, Malfoy's definitely a jerk, but we've always known that, haven't we?

That's great news about your dad getting Cannons tickets. I know you'll have fun at the game. I don't think I can make it this time, but thanks for inviting me. Dumbledore thinks it's not safe for me to go out now, so I guess I'll just have to wait and see you back at school in September.

Harry carefully re-read the two paragraphs, checking to be sure they were sufficiently vague. Then he swallowed a painful lump in his throat as he wished desperately that he could have accepted Ron's invitation to go to the Chudley Cannons' Quidditch match and to spend the last half of the summer with the Weasleys.

He imagined being at the cozy Burrow, surrounded by the Weasley clan, noisy and rambunctious, loving and happy. They were the closest thing he had to a family of his own, and he missed them. But he had to live with Snape now, and in any case he didn't want to endanger the Weasleys so it was just as well really, that he couldn't be with them. Hopefully, the line about Dumbledore wanting him to stay away would be enough to deter them, but perhaps he should mention the invitation to Snape. It would be disastrous if the Weasleys showed up at Privet Drive, determined to rescue him from the Dursleys.

Harry allowed himself to remember Ron and the twins coming to save him in the flying Ford Anglia, and coming again with their father two years later to take him to the Quidditch World Cup. For just a moment, he wondered what might happen if he did tell Ron about the slavery spell. But not even the Weasleys could rescue him this time, and anyway, he'd promised not to tell.

Harry took a deep breath. It would be all right, he told himself. One day he'd be with people who loved him again. One day, he'd be with his real family and everything would be perfect. He'd just have to get by as best he could until that day came.

He glanced at the clock on the wall and stood up from the desk. He'd have to finish writing letters after breakfast. It was time to go downstairs now if he didn't want to be late. He glanced down, making sure his plaid shirt was neatly tucked into his jeans, and then slowly headed down to the dining room. He'd considered saying that he still didn't feel well and asking for another tray to be brought up to him, but he didn't think Snape would go for it again, so he'd reluctantly decided he'd have to go downstairs to eat.

The professor was already seated at the head of the table when Harry came in, but it was still a couple of minutes before eight according to the grandfather clock in the corner. Harry cast an uncertain glance at Snape as he slid into his seat beside him, but the professor didn't seem to notice. Norie smiled at him as she brought their plates in from the kitchen and Harry gave her a tiny smile back. The elf glared at Snape as she went by, but he didn't seem to notice that either.

At first they ate in silence, as they always had. Snape cleared his throat several times, but he didn't speak and when Harry risked looking over at him, the professor seemed intent on spreading butter and jam on his toast.

They were about halfway through, and Harry had managed to eat a few bites of his pancake when Snape abruptly spoke.

"How do you feel this morning?"

Harry stared at him, not sure what to say. But he was being ridiculous. It was a simple question. He ought to be able to answer without making a big deal out of it.

"Um, fine, sir. Thank you," he finally managed to say.

Snape nodded, and they finished the meal in silence. But then instead of stalking off, Snape spoke again.

"There are a few things we need to talk about. When you're finished, come to the library," Snape hesitated. "Please."

"I'm finished, sir," Harry mumbled, feeling a cold knot of dread settle in his stomach as he stood and followed Snape out of the dining room. Once in the hall, the professor slowed his own steps so they walked side by side instead of Snape leading and Harry trailing behind, but Harry barely noticed. He was too busy worrying.

What could they need to talk about? Had he done something wrong? He racked his brains trying to come up with some reason why Snape could be upset with him again, but he couldn't imagine what he'd done. On the other hand, when had he ever had to actually do something to offend Snape? Harry's mere existence offended the man. Well, with any luck, Snape wouldn't have to be offended by that for too much longer, Harry thought with a bitter little smile.

He couldn't help but pause in the library doorway and look over at the armchair and table near the fireplace. To his surprise, he thought Snape did, too, but the moment passed quickly and Harry decided he must have only imagined it.

Snape ushered him into the room, and then he did the lead the way, not over to the chairs by the fireplace, but to another pair in a far corner of the room. He sat in one, and gestured for Harry to take the other.

Harry perched on the edge and clasped his hands together nervously, braced for the coming tirade. But when Snape spoke, he caught Harry completely by surprise.

"As you know, before Draco Malfoy's attack, you were the sole heir to both the Potter and the Black fortunes. Either one of those inheritances alone is a great amount of money, and combined they made you one of the wealthiest young men in Europe."

Harry blinked, not sure how or if he was supposed to respond. The truth was, he'd never really thought much about his money. He'd been grateful for the Potter gold, but only because it meant that he could provide for himself and not have to depend on anyone's charity. He'd always visited Gringotts on his annual trip to Diagon Alley and withdrawn enough money to buy his school supplies and a few decent outfits to wear, and to have a little pocket money left over for the Hogsmeade weekends.

Other than that, he'd never spent much time dwelling on the amount of money in his bank vault. He'd never really thought about being wealthy. Certainly he'd never had any urge to show off or gloat like Draco Malfoy did.

And as for the Black family fortune...well, Harry really didn't want to think about that. He didn't want Sirius' money. He wanted Sirius.

He realised that Snape was still talking and forced himself to pay attention.

The professor actually looked uncomfortable. "Now, of course, that money is legally in my name, but it is rightfully yours and I do not intend to spend any of it."

Again Harry wondered if he should say something, perhaps thank Snape, but before he could decide the professor was continuing.

"However, I admit I'm not comfortable giving you carte blanche over such vast wealth while you are still underage. It is rare for young wizards to have authority over their monetary inheritances. Normally they are dependent on their parents or guardians, but obviously, your Muggle relatives were unfit."

He paused again. Harry didn't want to just keep sitting there like a lump so he nodded in agreement.

"What I have in mind," Snape went on, "is to give you a monthly allowance until you come of age, and for us to periodically discuss financial matters so you can learn the best ways to manage your wealth. According to the dictates of the slavery spell, I cannot legally give the money back to you, but when you are of age, we will go to Gringotts and I will authorise you to spend the Potter and Black gold as you wish."

"Thank you, sir." Harry bowed his head, hoping Snape wouldn't see the pain that he knew must show on his face. Snape really was being very fair and generous. Harry knew that and was grateful. But it really hurt, too, to be reminded of how unjust everything was, and how dependent he was on Snape's mercy.

A heavy silence fell between them for a few moments; then Snape said briskly, "On average, most of my older Slytherins receive fifty galleons a month for pocket money. Does this seem a fair amount to you?"

Harry did some quick thinking. Over the course of a year, fifty galleons a month would end up being considerably more than he'd ever spent. The only thing that concerned him was that it was already July, so there was less than two months before he'd need to replenish his school supplies. He usually spent about two hundred galleons then, but he was also buying clothes and shoes. He hadn't grown much lately though, so he might not need to do that this time, and he could always owl-order some things later after he'd received more money if he didn't have enough to buy everything in one go.

He didn't want Snape to think he was ungrateful so he quickly nodded and said, "Yes, sir. Thank you."

"Very well then. I'll arrange to have fifty galleons withdrawn this morning. I'm not sure if it would be safe for you to leave Prince Hall right now, but I do have catalogues from many of the shops in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. You could owl-order anything you might want."

Harry didn't tell him that he would need to save it all for school supplies, but Snape's next words stunned him.

"Of course your allowance is not to be spent on school textbooks or clothing or other such necessary items."

Harry gaped at him. "But...how then...?"

Snape frowned slightly. "It is not your responsibility to provide for yourself, Harry. It never should have been. You are a child, not an adult. From now on, I will buy the things that you need. You will use your allowance to buy the things that you want."

Harry could only stare at him in amazement.

"Also, while I do want you to show some common sense and restraint, but if now and again, there is some item you would like to purchase and it costs more than your allowance, you may come and speak with me about it, and perhaps we could make some arrangement."

These last few sentences were spoken quietly, even a little hesitantly, almost as if Snape were trying to give him some type of peace offering. But that was impossible, wasn't it?

Harry looked at him uncertainly and finally repeated, "Yes, sir. Thank you."

There was a long pause and Harry wondered if he could leave, but it would be rude to ask and he certainly didn't want to make Snape angry, especially when they had actually been having a civil conversation for once.

"What are your plans for the day?" Snape asked.

Harry was completely bewildered by the question. Why in the world would Snape care about his plans for the day, unless maybe he had something he wanted Harry to do?

"I was going to finish writing to my friends and then study," he said slowly. "But if you wanted me to do something else..."

"No, that's fine."

But mentioning letters had reminded Harry of something. "Um, sir. I thought I should tell you. In his letter, Ron invited me to stay at the Burrow the last part of the summer. I've done that before, you see. Of course I've told him that I can't this summer, but well, sometimes the Weasleys have just shown up to rescue me, even if my aunt and uncle wouldn't have wanted me to go, and I thought maybe Dumbledore or somebody should make sure they don't end up going to Privet Drive anyway."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Harry wished he had chosen different ones to explain. Saying that he'd gone with the Weasleys against his relatives' wishes made him sound like a disobedient spoiled brat...just how Snape already thought of him. There was no way Snape could understand or believe how the Dursleys had abused him.

But Snape didn't say anything about Harry being spoiled or thinking he was too good to follow rules. Instead he nodded.

"That was wise of you. I'll mention it to Albus." He regarded Harry thoughtfully. "What did they rescue you from?"

"Oh, well...I just meant..." Harry's voice trailed off uncertainly. He really didn't want to have to tell Snape about the Dursleys. Snape wouldn't believe it...he just accuse Harry of trying to play on his sympathy (as if Snape had any), or if by some miracle he did believe it, he would be sure to mock Harry and ridicule him.

"I paid a visit to your relatives immediately after the end of term, to inform them that you would not be arriving back in London on the Hogwarts Express," Snape said quietly. "I have already surmised that I was mistaken about the way they treated you."

"Oh." But he still didn't want to tell Snape any of the details. There was no point in handing the man ammunition to use against him. Harry studied his clasped hands and hoped that Snape wouldn't insist.

There was awkward pause and then Snape said, still in the same quiet tone, "Well, I have potions to brew and you have letters to write. I shall see you at lunchtime." He stood and swept out of the room.

Harry gazed after him a moment before heading back upstairs to his room.

***

The week passed.

Severus kept a close watch over the boy but he was careful not to let Harry know it. He was surprised at how much time Harry spent in his room, poring over his schoolbooks. He was certain that the boy had never been such a dedicated scholar before, but now he would give even Granger a run for her money.

His plans to get to know Harry were progessing slowly. It was hard when the boy spent so much time cloistered in his room. Severus considered requesting Harry to do something with him, but he just couldn't think of anything they could do that wouldn't seem like a chore and he certainly didn't want Harry to think spending time with him was a punishment. Not anymore.

Severus tried to talk with the boy at mealtimes, but that was awkward, too. He didn't know what to say, and Harry always looked as if Severus were about to beat him every time he spoke. Severus had to wonder about that. The boy had never been so cowed at Hogwarts. But then he hadn't been a slave at Hogwarts, either, and since coming to Prince Hall, he had suffered terribly because Severus had lost his temper and punished him unfairly, no matter that Severus had not intended for him to suffer. Severus supposed he couldn't blame Harry for being nervous around him.

There was also the fact that Harry was surely grieving for his dead godfather. Severus and Sirius Black had despised one another, but he knew that Harry had been close to Black, and it occurred to him that the man's death was likely taking a toll on Harry's emotions, too.

He tried to think of some way to begin making amends, something that might lift Harry's spirits a little, and when it finally came to him, it was so simple and easy that Severus had to shake his head in disgust at himself for not thinking of it sooner. Of course, though, he had little experience in trying to comfort people or cheer them up.

After lunch that day he asked Harry to come up to his room afterwards, pretending not to notice the look of confusion and anxiety that played over the boy's face at his words. They walked upstairs together...Severus had made a conscious effort to walk alongside the boy for the past few days, and when they entered the sitting room that connected with Severus' bedroom, he went over to a wardrobe in the corner and took out a broomstick and a long silvery cloak.

"By rights, these belong to you," he said, walking over and handing them to the boy.

Harry slowly took them, gazing at his Firebolt and invisibility cloak in amazement. He blinked several times and swallowed before looking up at Severus, meeting his eyes for the first time in days.

"Thank you."

Severus had had doubts about returning the cloak...in the past, he had highly disapproved of the way Harry had used it to sneak about, and he had fully intended to lecture and warn the boy about using it wisely. But somehow, looking down into Harry's shining eyes, he couldn't bring himself to ruin the moment. He could save the lecture for later, he supposed.

Instead he replied softly, "You're welcome."

Severus had expected Harry to ask permission to go flying once he'd returned the Firebolt, or even to just go ahead, since returning the broomstick was really giving tacit permission to use it. But Harry simply stored the Firebolt and the cloak in his room and went back to studying.

Severus watched him from the doorway for a little while. It really wasn't like the Harry Potter he'd observed at Hogwarts to give up flying to read textbooks. Of course he knew that his observations had been flawed, and greatly so, for him to have misjudged the child's basic personality so badly, but still he didn't think he'd been wrong about the fact that Harry loved flying.

He cleared his throat and Harry jumped as he turned around in his chair to see Severus watching him.

"You seem to have spent a great deal of time studying the past few days," Severus said. "And Norie and Zan tell me you worked hard on your school assignments the first days you were here, also. Surely you don't have that much summer homework, even in Potions." He risked giving the boy a tiny smile as he ended.

Harry hesitated; then said quietly. "No, sir. I've already finished all the assignments."

"Then why...?" Severus frowned. "I know I told you that I expected you to do well in your classes, but I didn't mean that you had to study to the exclusion of everything else. You may take some time to enjoy yourself, too."

"Thank you, sir." Harry stared down at the floor, biting his lip.

Severus had the impression that he wasn't finished speaking, or that he was at least debating over whether to say something else. Severus waited silently, willing the boy to continue.

Finally he did. "It's just that I need to know as much as I can, so I'll be ready when I have to face Voldemort again. Or as ready as I can be, I guess."

Harry looked back up at him, his expression a mixture of anxiety and resignation, and Severus felt a wave of compassion that the boy had to bear this burden.

He sighed and started to step into the room, then stopped. "May I come in?"

The boy looked surprised, but he nodded, and Severus came in and pulled an armchair closer to the desk before sitting and saying, "It is wise to want to be prepared. However, you also need to be strong and healthy. Staying cooped up inside all day and barely touching your food at mealtimes is not conducive to good health."

Harry bowed his head. "I'm sorry."

"No, don't apologise. Let's just take steps to remedy the situation. Try to eat more at dinner tonight, to begin with."

"Yes, sir. It's just..." Harry broke off and looked back down at the floor again.

"Just what?" Severus ventured after a moment.

A long pause and then Harry said, so softly that Severus almost couldn't hear him. "It's just that I feel like I'll sick up whenever I eat."

Severus frowned again and drew his wand. "I'm going to perform a diagnostic spell, just to be sure you haven't developed a stomach ulcer. If you have, we need to have it treated at once."

But Harry didn't have an ulcer, which meant his nausea was in all likelihood caused by stress, fear, and grief. Just for an instant, Severus felt such sorrow and empathy for the boy that he wanted to take him in his arms and comfort and protect him.

Then he was shocked at himself. It was one thing to admit he'd been wrong, to feel curiosity about this boy who was now his responsibility, even to feel concerned and sympathetic for him. But Severus had never been blatantly demonstrative or emotional. That was more Albus' style.

Yet there was something about this child...

Shaking his head slightly, he turned his attention back to the conversation. "You do not have an ulcer, so your queasiness is most likely caused by nerves." He hesitated. "I know the past weeks have been very difficult for you, but you must try not to worry so. I...I will not mistreat you again. You must try to relax a little."

Harry gave a small nod. "Yes, sir."

Severus cleared his throat. "Also, I think that on days when the weather permits, you should spend an hour or two outside. Fresh air and exercise are always beneficial. You may fly or walk around the gardens, or explore out on the moor so long as you stay within the Fidelius Charm boundaries. There is a low stone wall surrounding Prince Hall, just beyond eyesight on the moor. It is our boundary, so do not cross it, but you will be perfectly safe within its perimeters."

Harry nodded again and repeated. "Yes, sir."

Severus glanced over to the windows, where a blazing sun shone in a sapphire sky. "It appears to be a rather nice day, so off you go then."

He let his lips quirk upwards again, so Harry wouldn't take the order the wrong way. He was still surprised when the boy gave him a tentative smile back, just for an instant before he stood and went to get his Firebolt.

Severus stood too, and started to leave, but at the door he paused. "Come back in at four o'clock and we can have tea, if you wish."

"Yes, sir," Harry said softly.

***

It was a beautiful day, warm and sunny, but with a gentle breeze that ruffled Harry's hair and set the leaves of the majestic oak trees to whispering. Harry stepped onto the terrace and looked about uncertainly. He couldn't imagine what had gotten into Snape lately. The man was almost being nice, and Harry could only hope it wasn't some new trick, to try to put him off-guard. But Snape really had seemed genuinely concerned for him, and he had returned Harry's cloak and Firebolt.

Harry looked at his broom and ran his fingers along the smooth handle. He'd always loved the Firebolt and not just because it was the best, top-of-the-line professional broom. No, it was much more important than that. The Firebolt had been a gift from Sirius, one of the few tangible signs that Harry had ever had that someone loved and wanted him...or had loved and wanted him.

An image of Sirius falling through the veil in the Department of Mysteries rose in Harry's mind, and a painful lump came to his throat. He fiercely blinked tears away and swallowed hard until the lump melted.

There's no reason to feel sad. I'll see Sirius again, maybe before very long, Harry reminded himself. And then we'll be together forever, and with Mum and Dad, too. I'll be free again, and everything will be perfect.

Harry leaped on the Firebolt and pushed off. He didn't want to think anymore. He just wanted to lose himself in the joy of flight.

For a while he did. He didn't know how high the protective charm went, so he didn't fly too high, but he did go high enough to dive and twist and spiral across the lawn and gardens. Then he flattened himself against the handle and zoomed across the moor, the wind whipping through his hair and stinging his face. As fast as he was going, it was only a moment before he saw the stone wall that Snape had warned him about, but he leaned to his right and the broom curved in a graceful arc. Harry continued his solitary race in a wide circle along the perimeter.

Finally he slowed and glided back over the wrought-iron fence that separated the moor and the lawn. He landed and sat down on the ground by one of the oak trees. He laid the Firebolt on the ground beside him and leaned back against the tree. He felt...not exactly happy, but better than he had in a very long time. Flying was such fun. Soaring through the air almost made him feel free again, as if he could rise above all the demands and injustices and slip away from his troubles forever.

If only he could...

But of course he couldn't. The sense of almost-happiness faded as Harry thought about what still lay ahead of him. He still had to face Voldemort and Death Eaters. He had to face every day with the knowledge that the people who loved him were either dead or out of reach. He had to live with a man who despised him. He had to live the rest of his life as that man's slave.

The burdens that had lifted while he was flying settled heavily back upon his shoulders, and Harry looked over at the Hall with a hopeless expression. At that moment, he felt so tempted to go ahead and kill himself. He was just so tired of it all...tired of being sad and scared, tired of dreading the future, tired of being alone.

"I miss you, Sirius," he whispered, his fingers stroking the Firebolt's handle again. "I really, really miss you. I want to be with you. I want to meet my mum and dad, and I want us to be a family. I've never had that. The closest I've ever had is Ron and Hermione, and I don't know if I can even have them anymore."

"I wish you were here, and you could help me. You know, all that year I was in the Triwizard Tournament and last year when things were so hard at school, it helped me so much just to know that I could talk to you about it. I didn't tell you everything, but I always knew that if it got too bad I could go to you, and you'd do anything to help me. You and Remus are the only grown-ups who ever really helped me like that."

"But then Remus kind of disappeared after third year. I wished he hadn't. For a while I wondered if I'd done something wrong, to make him not want to be my friend anymore, but he didn't seem upset or anything when I saw him again, so I don't really know."

"But at least I had you then, and I knew you weren't going to disappear on me. I mean, you came back and hid in a cave and lived on rats just so you could be near me during the Tournament. I figured you had to really want to be with me to do that, and you always said that you wanted me to live with you, and for us to be a family."

Harry drew his knees up and rested his face against them for a little while, as memories of Sirius played through his mind. He wanted to cry, but he couldn't. He hadn't cried since the day at Hogwarts, out by the lake, right after Sirius had died. Sometimes he wanted to, but it was as if all the tears had frozen inside him.

Well, it was just as well. He needed to go inside and have tea with Snape, and he certainly didn't want the professor to see him crying. Harry had no idea why Snape was acting so nice, and he was feeling very confused. The man had definitely been treating him differently since he'd injured his lungs. Could it be possible that Snape didn't despise him anymore? Could he truly have changed that much?

There was a part of Harry that wanted to believe it, that wanted to trust in Snape's apparent change of heart and respond to it. But a bigger part of him screamed warnings. He could trust Snape to save his life, but he couldn't trust Snape not to taunt him, to exploit his vulnerabilities, and to subject him to a thousand petty cruelties. It would be just like Snape to lull him into revealing weaknesses and then turn on him. Everyone at Hogwarts would know all of Harry's secrets and vulnerabilities if he wasn't careful.

No, he would be very polite and do whatever Snape said. He wasn't about to give Snape any more reason to be angry with him. Who knew what Snape would do if he lost his temper again? He'd said that he wouldn't mistreat Harry again, but Harry was a slave and had no rights, and if Snape got angry enough....well, he had said that he would beat and starve him, too. Harry didn't want to find out the hard way if he might follow through.

He looked back down at the Firebolt and lightly touched it again with his fingertips.

"I miss you," he repeated. Then he took it, stood, and trudged back up to Prince Hall.

***

Severus watched the boy flying from windows of the front parlor. The long windows on two walls afforded a generous view, and he was able to see many of Harry's antics. A few times his heart leaped into his throat as he observed various aerial escapades. What in Merlin's name possessed the boy? Was he suicidal? Severus almost went outside and called him down, but then Harry settled into an even path, and though he was going too fast for Severus' liking, he did seem to have the broom easily under control.

Harry zipped out of sight, apparently traveling in a wide circle around the estate. Severus watched intently until he came back into view, and then was surprised at how tense he'd been.

Harry landed and went to rest underneath one of the oak trees that dotted the lawn. He came close enough for Severus to glimpse his face and Severus was struck at how relaxed he seemed, almost at ease. It occurred to him that he hadn't seen Harry look like that in a very long time, and never when he knew Severus was close by.

Severus' heart gave an odd little lurch, and he realised wonderingly that he wanted to see that expression on Harry's face more often, even when they were together.

But then Harry ran his fingers along the Firebolt, drew his knees up to his chest, and bowed his head. He sat like that for a long time and when he finally stood up and came towards the house, he looked sad and defeated again.

Severus wondered what he'd been thinking about. His lost godfather? Perhaps he should have gone outside and...what? He'd never been any good at offering comfort. Harry wouldn't want those words or gestures from him, would he? Soft words and touches implied a closeness that simply did not exist between the two of them. There was too much past hostility between Harry and himself, and it would take a long time to overcome, if indeed it ever could be. Harry would likely be horrified and offended if Severus overstepped the boundaries too quickly.

But when he went to meet Harry as he came inside and saw the boy's dull eyes and drawn face, he almost wished that he had tried.

Instead he motioned for Harry to come into the parlor. The boy did so, glancing around at the vast room. The walls were papered in gold damask and there were golden drapes at the windows. A large tapestry, depicting scenes from a thirteenth-century snidget hunt, hung on one wall, while a mirror and several landscape paintings hung on the others. A faded golden rug, with touches of ivory and dark green lay on the floor, and the furniture was upholstered in gold, ivory, or gold and ivory stripes.

Severus told Harry to prop the Firebolt in the corner and gestured for him to lead the way over to two chairs near the side window, with a small round table between. Severus started to call one of the elves but Norie appeared before he could, levitating a tray laden with scones dripping with honey and jam, several varieties of biscuits, and of course a teapot and two cups and saucers.

She set the tray on the table and smiled at Harry. Then she turned to Severus, and he expected another glare, but instead she gave him a tiny, approving nod and disappeared without a word.

Severus noted that Harry was perched on the edge of his chair and looked a little uncomfortable. He cast about for a way to set the boy at ease and decided that food would be a safe enough starter.

"Help yourself," he directed. His voice must have sounded more brusque than he'd intended, for Harry still looked nervous as he took a plate and uncertainly eyed the selection of goodies.

Severus hoped that taking his attention off the boy might help, so he chose a small assortment for himself. He didn't have much of a sweet tooth and normally preferred sandwiches or meat pies when he had tea, but Norie had obviously selected today's menu with Harry in mind. Ah, well, the scones weren't half bad and if Harry could be tempted to eat a little, it would be worthwhile.

He poured a cup of tea and asked if Harry liked sugar in it. He added a couple of lumps at the boy's direction and passed it over, noting that Harry had picked a scone with jam and a chocolate biscuit. It wasn't much, but it was a beginning. Severus fixed tea for himself, sans sugar, and they set to eating.

"Did you have a good time flying?" He asked after a few minutes.

"Yes, sir." Harry hesitated. "Thank you for letting me have my Firebolt... um, your Firebolt, I mean," he finished quietly.

Severus surprised himself when he reached over to lay his hand on top of Harry's. "It is your Firebolt, whatever the legal records say. Of course you may refer to it as yours."

He removed his hand, suddenly feeling unbearably embarrassed.

But after staring in stunned silence for a moment, Harry bit his lip and blinked hard a few times before whispering, "Thank you, sir."

Harry looked quickly away as if afraid of showing emotion, and Severus didn't know how to ease the situation either. He realized he'd averted his own eyes to the tapestry. Harry liked Quidditch; perhaps he'd be interested in the historic role of the small golden bird.

"That tapestry has been in the Prince family for many generations. Snidget hunting was a favorite activity in the late thirteenth and early fourteenth centuries. It began when Chief Warlock Barberus Bragge had the innovative idea to release one during a Quidditch match and offer a reward of 150 galleons to the player who captured it. It proved to be an immensely popular move, to the point that no Quidditch match afterwards was complete without a search for the golden snidget."

"Unfortunately the tiny creatures were fragile, and often died in the capture, so in 1322 they were declared endangered and given protective status. Soon after that, Bowman Wright invented a small enchanted ball that could closely mimic the flight of the live animal. Eventually the game evolved into one player for each team being designated as a Snitch Seeker, with points replacing galleons as a reward."

Severus looked back at Harry, who was watching him quietly. He arched an eyebrow and let his lips quirk upwards. "No doubt, you are already familiar with the tale."

Slowly Harry gave him that tiny hesitant smile back. "Yes, sir. It was in the book you took away from me in first-year."

Severus felt the corners of his mouth turn up slightly more. He raised his wand and called, "Accio Quidditch Through the Ages!"

A moment later a book with a bright emerald binding flew through the air and landed gently in Harry's lap. Harry looked at the book; then up at Severus in complete bewilderment.

"As you remarked to your friends on that occasion, I did indeed simply make up the rule about library books not being allowed outside. I suppose that might have been a trifle unjust of me. Therefore, allow me to present you with your own copy," Severus told him.

As the boy stared blankly at him, Severus felt himself break into a real smile. He gestured towards the table.

"Have another biscuit."

"Remember Albus and Poppy are coming for dinner tonight."

It was lunchtime on Friday and Harry had been slowly eating a ham and cheese sandwich. He still didn't have much of an appetite, but he was trying to eat a little more food anyway. Snape had told him to and Harry was determined to stay on the man's good side, if possible, and besides, it made sense that he needed to keep up his strength. Snape had been right when he'd said that Harry would need to be healthy to defeat Voldemort, and Harry was very determined on two points in his life right now. Whatever else might happen, he was going to beat Voldemort the next time they met, and then he was going to go be with Sirius and his parents.

So he ate, whether he wanted to or not.

Now, at Snape's announcement, he paused and looked over at the professor. He'd forgotten but now that Snape had mentioned it, Harry did recall that Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey were invited to dinner that night. But why was Snape telling him? Did he mean he wanted Harry to stay out of the way? Or could he mean...?

"They'll arrive shortly before seven. We'll meet them in the parlour." The professor studied Harry. "Of course it's not an occasion for dress robes, but you might want to wear something a bit nicer than jeans and a Quidditch jersey."

Harry swallowed his bite of sandwich. "You mean you want me to eat dinner with you, then?" He asked quietly.

Snape frowned. "Of course. Albus and Poppy are most anxious to see you. You know they will want you there."

He cleared his throat, and studied his own sandwich as if it were the most interesting thing he'd ever seen before saying, also in a very quiet voice, "And I would like for you to be there as well."

Harry stared at him in shock for a minute before managing to say, "Thank you."

He thought Snape almost said something else, but instead the professor just nodded. They finished lunch and then Snape went off to his laboratory while Harry went back to his room to finish reading about the Flame-Freezing Charm.

They met back in the front parlour a little before seven that evening, Harry dressed in the same dark green shirt and khaki trousers he'd worn on the first day he'd arrived at Prince Hall, and Snape in a dark shirt and trousers.

"How did you spend your afternoon?" Snape asked after a moment of silence.

"I practiced charms. I mean, I didn't really try to do them of course, but I read about them and practiced the wand movements," Harry explained.

"Did you go outside?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir. I went flying for a while this morning."

"Good." There was a long pause before Snape cleared his throat and said slowly, "I am aware that your birthday is coming up soon. Is there anything in particular you would like?"

For the second time that day, Harry could only gaze at him in astonishment. Was the world coming to an end? Had Snape...Severus Snape, the professor who lived to make Harry miserable...really just offered to buy him a birthday present? Surely Harry had misunderstood.

But Snape was watching him, with his lips quirked upwards, almost as if he were trying to smile, but didn't really know how to.

"Well?" The professor asked.

Harry blinked, still feeling completely befuddled. Was there anything he wanted? Well, he wanted his freedom. He wanted his family. He wanted to be free of Voldemort. But no one could give him those things.

Still, he should probably say something, shouldn't he? Wouldn't it seem rude to refuse Snape? But try as he would, he simply couldn't think of anything to ask for. And what if it was some elaborate trick after all?

Snape really did seem to be changing. But it was so hard to trust. What if Harry said something and then later Snape mocked him for it? You honestly believed I would get you a gift, Potter? As if I cared? As if anyone could care for a pathetic imbecile like you? Harry could just imagine Snape and the Slytherins jeering at him once they were back at Hogwarts.

He shuddered. "I don't know, sir," he said softly and then waited for Snape to rebuke him for being an ungrateful snob.

Instead there was silence, which was almost worse. Harry swallowed nervously. Now he'd gone and made Snape angry again, in spite of his determination not to. He should have just asked for something...anything. He waited tensely for Snape's rage.

But it didn't come.

Finally he risked glancing over to see Snape studying him quizzically.

"Well, give it some thought," the professor told him. "Otherwise you might have to make do with beetle eyes and dragonfly wings."

Harry stared. Was Snape joking with him? No, it was impossible. It had to be.

Before he could figure out how to respond, green flames flared high in the fireplace and Madame Pomfrey stepped out. For once she wasn't wearing her traditional brown healer's dress, but flowing sapphire robes instead. Harry had never seen her not in her uniform and for a second, he almost didn't recognise her.

"Severus, Harry, it's good to see you both again." She smiled at them and took Snape's offered hand.

Then the Floo roared to life again, and Dumbledore was there, in violet robes, smiling graciously at them. The skin on his right arm and hand was a little reddened, as if healing from a bad burn, but he no longer had to wear a bandage.

"Harry, it's wonderful to see you looking better." Dumbledore stepped close and asked quietly. "Are you feeling better as well?"

Harry hesitated. "Yes, sir," he said after a few seconds. It wasn't really the whole truth, but he did feel better physically than he had the last time he'd seen the headmaster.

Dumbledore peered keenly at him and Harry had the impression that the old wizard wasn't a bit fooled by his answer, but Dumbledore just patted his shoulder and said, "Remember, Harry, the darkest hour is just before dawn. An old Muggle proverb, and one that I have often found to be true. Have courage and faith."

Then he strode over to Snape and they clasped hands and greeted one another as Madame Pomfrey came over to Harry. Like Dumbledore, she was anxious to hear how he was doing, but she had more specific questions about how much he was eating and sleeping, and if he'd had all the doses of his potion.

Harry wasn't a bit surprised when she actually took out her wand and went through a diagnostic spell, before nodding and announcing in relief that his lungs were almost completely healed, and she believed that he would make a full recovery.

"You were most fortunate," she admonished. Then her eyes seemed to grow bright and she pulled him into a quick hug. "We all were."

There was a sudden popping sound and they looked over to see Zan standing in the doorway.

"Good evening, Madame Pomfrey, Masters. Dinner is served if you would like to come to the dining room."

"Thank you, Zan," Snape gestured slightly to the doorway. "Shall we?"

Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey paused to speak to Zan as they followed, and the elf accompanied them all to the dining room where Norie was waiting as well.

"Good evening, Madame Pomfrey, Master Professor Dumbledore," she beamed.

Madame Pomfrey thanked her, and Dumbledore nodded at the table.

"I'm sure you have prepared quite a delicious feast for us. But Norie, Zan, won't you join us?"

Norie and Zan both shook their heads at him.

"You knows we prefer to eat by ourselves in peace and quiet, Master Professor, sir," Norie said in a scolding tone. She shook her head again, this time giving an impression of a parent weary of repeating something to a tiresome child, before Dis-Apparating away.

"Norie is right, Master Professor Dumbledore," Zan said calmly. "We likes to have a quiet bite alone by ourselves." He gave a small bow before following Norie's example and Vanishing.

"You know they'll refuse, Albus. I've been trying for years to get them to eat in here with me," Snape remarked as they seated themselves at the table.

"Yes, I know, but I figured ‘what the hell, one day they might accept'," Dumbledore shrugged lightly as the first course, bowls of steaming mushroom soup, appeared.

They dined on chicken Cordon Bleu, creamy spinach and rice, with raspberry sorbet for dessert. At first, conversation was light, centered on inconsequential matters. Hagrid was thrilled at having acquired a pet Jarvey and was spending hours each day trying to teach it manners, to no avail. Mrs. Norris had disappeared for three days, leaving poor Filch in such hysterics that Madame Pomfrey had seriously considered taking him to St. Mungo's. Fortunately, the missing cat had returned to Hogwarts just that afternoon and the last Dumbledore had seen of Filch, the caretaker had been waltzing around the Great Hall, with his malevolent pet tucked under his chin, crooning lullabys and practically crying with joy.

But soon the discussion became more serious. Dementors were multiplying, attacks on Muggles were increasing, and even in the wizarding world, people were missing, Death Eaters were becoming more open with their activities, and there had been rumors of a ferocious werewolf named Fenrir Greyback roaming the country.

Harry was quiet for most of the discussion, just listening to the others talk, but at the last bit he had to speak up.

"Professor Dumbledore?" He asked when there was a momentary lull in the conversation.

They all looked at him.

"Yes, Harry?" Dumbledore paused from cutting a bite of chicken.

"I just wondered...is Remus all right?" Harry asked softly. He wished suddenly, fiercely, that he could see his father's old friend again. Remus never had let Harry get as close to him as Harry wanted, but he did consider Remus a friend, and he was concerned. Remus had always had a hard life, and it had to be an especially difficult time for him too, these weeks right after Sirius' death.

Dumbledore nodded. "He's away on a mission now, Harry, but the last I heard from him, everything was going well."

"Thank you." Harry tried to distract himself by turning his attention back to dinner. He missed Remus, but he just had to accept that Remus wasn't part of his life anymore. He had important work to do for the war, and even if he weren't busy with that, it wasn't likely that Snape would let him see Remus. The professor hated all the Marauders with a passion, with good reason Harry had to admit. Anyway, for all he knew, Remus wouldn't want to see him anymore anyway. He probably hated Harry for killing Sirius.

It seemed to Harry that one by one, he was losing all the people he cared about, and he abruptly set his fork down. Never mind about keeping up his strength right now, he wasn't going to be able to eat any more.

He didn't think anyone had noticed, but when dinner was over and they were heading back to the parlour, Madame Pomfrey came over to him and said quietly, "You didn't finish your dinner, Harry. You need to eat more, dear."

Harry tried to smile at her. "Yes, ma'am. I know. Professor Snape has talked to me about that, and I'm trying. But I just wasn't very hungry tonight."

She sighed and laid her hand on his arm. "Is there anything we can do to help you, Harry?"

He shook his head. "I'm all right, Madame Pomfrey. Don't worry."

She only sighed again.

In the parlour, Snape poured drinks for everyone...brandy for the adults and a butterbeer for Harry...and they settled themselves on the sofa and chairs. Madame Pomfrey and Snape began discussing healing potions, while Dumbledore came over and sat down in a chair close to Harry's.

"Harry, there is something I wanted to discuss with you this evening," he began. "I don't wish to pry, but are you and Severus getting along any better?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir."

Dumbledore was quiet for a moment, as if waiting for Harry to elaborate, but Harry wasn't sure what else to say and after a brief pause, Dumbledore went on.

"Excellent, but what I need to know is if you would be willing to let him instruct you in Defense and dueling. I made a grave mistake last year when I forced the two of you into Occlumency lessons, and I don't want to repeat that. If you don't think you can work with Severus, I'll try to schedule time to come out here and teach you myself."

"But Severus is very capable and he would be able to work with you on a much more regular basis than I would, so if the two of you could manage, it would probably be better, for the summer anyway."

Harry hesitated. Occlumency lessons had been horrible, and he wasn't at all sure he wanted Snape giving him private lessons on anything again. But they had been getting along better lately, and if it would help him be more prepared to face Voldemort, how could he refuse?

Finally he said, "Yes, sir. I'm willing to try, but Professor Snape might not want to work with me."

"I think he will," Dumbledore smiled.

Harry frowned slightly, confused. It sounded as if Dumbledore intended for him to actually use magic, but how could he in the summer?

"Sir? Do you mean for me to really use magic? Because I'm still underage, you know."

Dumbledore nodded. "Oh, yes, I know, Harry. But as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, I do have a bit of authority and I was planning to lift the Trace from you."

Harry stared at him blankly. "Trace?"

"It is a charm to detect the use of magic in children. It's what enables the Ministry to find out about underage magic. Of course with Prince Hall being under the Fidelius Charm, no one from the Ministry could reach you here, but we don't want any trouble once you come back to Hogwarts. So to simplify matters, I'd planned to release you from the Trace early. If that's all right with you?"

"Well, yes, sir. Should we ask Professor Snape, too, though?"

"Yes, we probably should," Dumbledore agreed. "Severus?"

He explained his plans and Snape listened in silence; then studied Harry.

"Are you agreeable to all this?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir."

Snape seemed to consider the matter for a long moment before he inclined his head. "Very well, Albus. I have no objections."

"And you're willing to work with Harry and to help prepare him?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes."

Dumbledore beamed at them. "Thank you, my boys. I believe this will work out well for all of us."

He stood up and took out his wand. "Harry, if you will come here please."

Harry stood and stepped close. Dumbledore waved his wand in a complicated series of loops and flourishes over Harry's head.

"There. I believe that did it." He tucked his wand back into an inside pocket.

Harry didn't want to doubt Dumbledore's word, but he didn't feel a bit different. It seemed strange that such a momentous thing could be accomplished so easily and him not even feel anything.

"Should I have felt something, sir?" He asked.

"It's doubtful. I'm sure your Trace is gone," the headmaster assured him.

Snape spoke up. "Albus, do you think anyone from the Ministry will notice that Harry's Trace has been lifted?"

"I don't think so. Lifting a Trace early is very complicated and not many wizards can do it, if I do say so myself. Therefore the Ministry doesn't normally take any notice of when a Trace lifts. But if there should be any difficulties, I will take all the responsibility."

Soon after that, Madame Pomfrey thanked them all for a lovely evening, but announced that she was tired and was going to head back to Hogwarts. Harry curled up in his chair and tried to listen as Snape and Dumbledore discussed plans for his training, but he was tired, too, and the warm butterbeer made him drowsy. His eyelids flickered a few times before finally closing. Harry rested his head against the high side of the chair and let himself drift away into sleep.

***

"Is anything happening in the Order that I should know about?" Severus asked as he and Albus slowly sipped their second glass of brandy.

The headmaster considered. "It's not really Order business, but Narcissa Malfoy seems to have vanished from the face of the earth."

Severus frowned. "Narcissa? Is she planning something? So far as I know, she's never had much to do with the inner workings of Voldemort's circle."

"I don't know what's going on, only that no one seems to have seen her since the day after Hogwarts closed for the summer." Albus shook his head.

"Perhaps she's on holiday with Draco, and they simply kept it quiet?" Severus suggested.

"Apparently she sent Draco to spend the summer with friends at a resort near the Black Forest, so wherever she is, she's not spending the summer with him," Albus replied.

"Well, that's hardly surprising," Severus said dryly. "She's never spent any time with him, so why start now?"

"Yes, it is a shame that Draco has never had a positive parental figure. He might be a different boy if he had," Albus agreed.

Severus had always tried to keep his emotions buried deeply, but he felt a wave of sadness and guilt at Albus' words.

"I have tried," he said in a low voice. "But I couldn't do enough, and I fear I've lost him." He looked up and it was one of the rare times that Albus could see through his mask to the pain and remorse underneath. "I've lost so many of them, Albus."

Albus reached over and laid a hand on his arm. "It's not your fault, Severus. I certainly wasn't blaming you. You tried, and now that you don't have to maintain the charade of spying, perhaps you can do more to reach them."

"I hope so." Severus was quiet for a moment and then glanced over at Harry, curled up asleep in his chair.

"Do you have any plans for Draco, Albus? I do sympathise with him for all the obstacles that have stood in his way, but what he did to Harry is inexcusable, and he must be punished for it."

Albus raised his eyebrows. "Are you really Severus Snape? Did you just tell me that Draco Malfoy should be punished for harming Harry Potter?"

Severus scowled at him. "What are you wanting to hear, Albus? That I was wrong about Harry? Very well, I admit it. But you haven't answered my question. Yes, I acknowledge that Draco needs to be punished, severely. In many ways, Draco is a victim of circumstance, but he can't be allowed to go about harming innocent people, and if there is still any chance of saving him, he needs to learn that his actions have consequences. Too often, he's been let off because his name or family influence. I admit that too often I've let him off as well. Sometimes I did so because I could see myself in him and I sympathised. Sometimes I had to pretend to favour the children of Death Eaters. But no more of that. It's not going to help them develop any moral character."

Albus just nodded and drained his glass. "Well said, Severus. As a matter of fact, I do have plans for young Mr. Malfoy, assuming he returns to school in the fall, but I haven't decided on anything definitely yet. Perhaps we can discuss that later on in the summer. Right now it's getting late, and much as I've enjoyed this evening, I find myself longing for a soft bed and pillow."

They stood and Severus went over to Harry. He shook the boy's shoulder, but Harry never stirred.

Severus glanced over at Albus. "He didn't take his evening dose of potions. Do you think I should wake him?"

"Poppy said he was almost completely recovered. I imagine it would be all right to wait til morning," the headmaster said.

Severus nodded. "Good evening, Albus."

"Thank you, Severus. I'll be in touch." And Albus was gone.

Severus hesitated, but Harry was obviously not going to wake on his own, so he finally gathered the boy into his arms and carried him upstairs, noting that Harry was still lighter than he should be. He went to Harry's room and laid him carefully on the bed. He found a pair of pyjamas in the wardrobe, and frowned as he thought that Harry really didn't have very many outfits in there. Perhaps he should buy the boy some more clothes for his birthday.

He remembered their interactions that day as he eased Harry into the pyjamas...how surprised Harry had seemed at the idea of being included in the dinner, and how completely startled he'd been at the idea of Severus buying him a gift for his birthday. And Harry was still so quiet and submissive.

Severus just didn't know what to make of the child. Had he always been so humble? Was it part of Harry's personality that he'd somehow never seen through his own prejudices? Was it a legacy of an abusive past? For the more he remembered his visit to Privet Drive and the sketchy details of Harry's medical records, the more convinced he became that Harry had been abused in some way long before arriving at Hogwarts. Was it related to Sirius Black's death and/or the slavery curse?

Or was it a combination of all those things?

Severus wanted to try to talk with Harry about these issues. He wanted to know more about Harry's past and he wanted to reassure him again that he was safe at Prince Hall. He wanted to tell Harry that he...Severus...would never harm him again, and that he didn't think of Harry as a slave and he didn't want Harry to think of himself that way.

But he just didn't know how to say all the things he wanted to.

Severus tucked a blanket around Harry's shoulders and cautiously carded his fingers through the child's dark hair.

"Good night, Harry," he said softly and slipped across the hall to his own room. He got ready for bed and fell asleep quickly, but his sleep was broken in the middle of the night by harsh cries coming from Harry's room.

Severus leaped from his bed and hurried across the hall, pulling his sleep-robe over his pyjamas as he went. Even though it was summer and the days were warm, the night air could be chilly. He cast Lumos as he came through Harry's door and a soft glow lit the cavernous rooms, chasing the darkness away.

Harry was thrashing on the bed, crying, "No, no, don't! Please!" caught in the grip of some nightmare. He was obviously not fully conscious, and Severus started for the bed, intending to gently shake him awake.

But as he reached the side of the bed, he abruptly stopped, feeling as though a bucket of icy water had been dropped on him. If he reached for Harry now, the boy would almost certainly fight against him. Not intentionally, but he was in the throes of some horrific vision and wouldn't know what he was doing. But how would the slavery spell interpret his actions?

One of the things he and Albus had discussed this evening, when planning Harry's training, had been how careful they would need to be to make sure that Harry never did anything that could even remotely be considered an ‘attack' against Severus. Because if the magical contract thought Harry was trying to hurt him, it could kill the boy.

So Severus would have to move carefully now. For the first time, he had a true sense of empathy for the ways the slavery spell was affecting Harry. Oh, he had always known it was unfair, and the past few days he'd been feeling increasingly sympathetic and concerned for Harry. He'd spent a lot of time over the past week, trying to think of ways to make it all easier for the child to bear.

But this flash of feeling was more. Suddenly Severus had a sense of just how much the spell had changed Harry's life and how deeply it was affecting him. To think that an innocent child could die, just because he suffered from a nightmare and acted instinctively to protect himself...it shook Severus to realise how harsh, how immutable these conditions could be.

He swallowed hard and pulled himself together. The most important thing right now was to help Harry out of his terrible dreams and back into awareness, and to do it safely. He thought for a second and then cast a gentle Tickling Charm on Harry.

For a moment Harry twisted and Severus wasn't sure if it would work. He didn't want to have to resort to anything more drastic...Levicorpus or Aguamenti perhaps. But those spells would likely be an unpleasant awakening for Harry, and he didn't want that.

Fortunately, after a few seconds Harry's eyes flew open. He sat up and looked around with a wild haunted face. Severus immediately cancelled the Tickling Charm and then sat down on the side of the bed. He took Harry's glasses from the night table and handed them to the boy.

"It's all right, Harry," he spoke in a soothing tone. "It was just a nightmare. It's over now."

Harry took a deep shuddery breath. "It's not," he whispered in a ragged voice. "It's real." He drew his knees up, pressed his face against them, and wrapped his arms around his shins.

Severus slowly reached over to touch his shoulder. "What was it about, Harry?"

But Harry shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it. Please."

Severus sighed. "It might help," he said quietly.

Harry shook his head again. "Nothing can help," he replied, his voice dull and flat.

Severus wondered how he could combat such hopelessness. It would help if he knew what Harry's nightmare had been about. Voldemort? Black's death? Perhaps his abusive relatives? Could it have even been about Severus mistreating him again?

"You're safe here, child," he spoke soothingly. "We're under the Fidelius Charm and I'm the Secret-Keeper. I would never bring anyone here who might hurt you. You're very safe. It's all right now."

He realised that at some point in the past few minutes his hand had slipped from Harry's shoulder and was lightly rubbing circles on his back. He almost reacted on reflex and pulled his hand away, but then he noticed that the boy's tense muscles had relaxed just a little bit so he kept it up.

For a while they stayed like that; Harry hunched over, hugging his drawn-up legs, and Severus sitting beside him, cautiously offering comfort. Finally Harry raised his head and asked in a hoarse voice, "Could I please have a drink of water?"

"Of course." Severus flicked his wand and cup of cool water appeared. He handed it to Harry who mumbled his thanks and sipped it slowly.

It occurred to Severus that when he suffered a nightmare, it sometimes helped him to get up and read a book or write in his journal. It seemed to help him be able to leave the dream behind if he could get involved in doing something before trying to go back to sleep.

"Perhaps you might like to begin a game of chess?" He offered tentatively. "I've found that after a nightmare it often helps me to get up and do something else for a bit."

For a second he thought Harry would refuse, but then the boy nodded. "Yes, sir, I'd like that."

Severus raised his wand again, silently calling Harry's sleep-robe. But nothing came and then he remembered that he hadn't seen one in the wardrobe when he'd been looking for the child's pyjamas.

"Do you have a sleep-robe?" He asked, looking back at Harry.

"No, sir."

Severus summoned another of his own, a navy-blue one, and when it soared through the door and over to the bed, he gave the boy an appraising look and tapped the robe once with his wand. It promptly shrunk a bit and Severus held it out to Harry.

"Here, see if it fits properly."

Looking a little surprised, Harry obediently stood up and slipped the robe on. It fit perfectly and Severus nodded in satisfaction.

Harry fingered the cloth belt on the robe. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Severus told him, thinking that he would definitely have to buy the boy some more clothes for his birthday, and perhaps a Quidditch book or a musical album. Teenagers liked music, didn't they?

He stood as well. "The chess set is in my sitting room."

They went across the hall to Severus' sitting room, done in ivory and sage green, and seated themselves in two armchairs before the fireplace. A small table sat between the chairs with an old, but impeccably-kept chess board atop it.

They played for almost an hour, and Harry was better at the game than Severus had expected him to be. Of course he knew Harry and Ron Weasley liked to play chess in their free time, but it had never occurred to him that Gryffindors could possess any sense of strategy. He thought wryly to himself that he'd never seen much evidence of it before. But Harry was skilled enough to keep Severus paying close attention and he lost track of the time, only noting the late hour when a clock on the wall chimed.

"I hadn't realised how late it was," he said. "We need to try to sleep again now. Tomorrow will be a busy day."

Harry nodded, though his face seemed to tighten slightly. "Yes, sir. I...I'm sorry for waking you."

"Don't apologise. You did nothing wrong," Severus told him. "If it's anyone's fault, it's mine, I suppose. I didn't give you your dreamless sleep potion tonight. But you were sleeping soundly and at the time, it seemed kinder to let you rest. But perhaps that was a mistake." He stood. "Wait here a moment and I'll fetch your potions now."

He Flooed down to his laboratory, selected two vials from a shelf, and returned upstairs. He watched as Harry took the tissue restoration potion first and then the dreamless sleep, and then went with him back across to his bedroom.

"You shouldn't have any trouble sleeping now," he said quietly. "But if for some reason you do, you may fetch me." He paused. "Or if you are not comfortable doing that, you may call for Norie or Zan. They have helped me before after a nightmare, so they're accustomed to it."

Harry had taken off his glasses and climbed into bed. He blinked, rather owlishly, at Severus. "You have nightmares, too, sir?"

Severus nodded. "Occasionally."

Harry looked puzzled. "But I thought Occlumency kept you from having nightmares."

"It helps, certainly, but some events are so intense and upsetting that even Occlumency cannot prevent nightmares about them."

"Oh." Harry hesitated before saying softly. "I'm sorry."

Severus wondered why there was a sore raspiness in his throat. He swallowed hard before answering, "It is nothing for you to worry about. You need to sleep now."

When Harry's face became tense and guarded again, he realised that his voice had sounded more gruff than he'd intended. To make up for it, he patted the boy's shoulder, a little awkwardly, and said more gently. "Good night, Harry. Sleep well."

Harry started to give him his shy smile when he suddenly stared at Severus, his face blank with astonishment. "You've been calling me ‘Harry'."

Severus kept his voice gentle. "Foolish child. I wondered if you would ever notice."

He noxed the light and returned to his own room. They both slept peacefully the rest of the night.

***

The sun was high in the sky when Harry woke the next morning. He could see it through the wide window next to his bed and knew at once that it was past breakfast time, a good bit past. Oh, well, he wasn't very hungry anyway and it wouldn't be too long before lunch. It wouldn't hurt him to miss one meal.

But he'd scarcely completed that thought when there was a knock on his door and he looked over to see Snape coming in, levitating two trays laden with food before him.

"Good, you're awake," the professor said. "I was beginning to think you'd sleep until lunch."

Harry flushed. "Sorry, sir."

But Snape quickly shook his head. "I didn't mean it as criticism. You were tired and you needed the rest. I only woke up a short while ago myself."

"Oh," Harry wasn't sure how to respond. He slipped his glasses on as Snape came over, set one tray in front of him, and then sat on the side of the bed with the other.

"But I missed breakfast. You said..." his voice trailed off as he wished that he'd thought before he'd spoken.

Snape raised an eyebrow at him. "I said what?"

Harry looked down at the plate. "You said if I was late to meals that I couldn't eat," he mumbled.

Snape actually looked uncomfortable. "Yes, well, I was in a rather bad mood that day. So long as there's a good reason..." He nodded at Harry's plate. "Eat your breakfast, Harry."

Harry picked up his fork and took a bite of poached egg.

They didn't talk much, but the silences were becoming more companionable and not so awkward. As he ate, Harry noticed that he was feeling more comfortable around Snape than ever before. Oh, he wasn't perfectly at ease with the professor, but he wasn't tense and miserable, expecting Snape to pounce on him any minute, either. The professor really had been decent lately. He could have torn Harry to shreds last night, when Harry had woken him up.

But he hadn't.

Snape had sat with him and patted his back and talked to him quietly and gently. He hadn't insisted that Harry tell him about the nightmare, for which Harry was grateful. It was bad enough to see Sirius falling through the Veil and know that he was to blame. Harry knew he couldn't talk about it without breaking down. He really couldn't even think about it. The only thing that helped was remembering that he'd be able to be with Sirius again one day, hopefully soon.

Yes, Snape could have been horrible last night. But instead he'd been helpful, and...comforting. It was a nice change, and even though Harry was amazed and didn't understand why the professor was acting differently, he did find himself hoping that Snape's new attitude was genuine.

As they were finishing, Snape cleared his throat. "I was thinking that this morning might be a good time to begin your Defense training. We have a couple hours before lunch and it's not so warm now as it will be this afternoon."

Well, so much for not feeling tense and miserable, Harry thought wryly. He'd agreed to let Snape teach him, but now that the moment was at hand, Harry couldn't help feeling nervous about it. He just didn't know what was going on between Snape and himself, and he was tired of feeling anxious and confused and not knowing what to expect.

Snape had been so different lately, even being...kind, almost. He was even calling Harry by his first name. But...what if? What if it were a trick? Or what if Harry did something to make Snape angry again and everything reverted back to the way it had been?

After all, they'd never been able to work well at anything before. Visions of last year's Occlumency lessons came to Harry's mind and he sighed. He really should apologise for looking in Snape's Pensieve. Snape had been awful all along about Occlumency, but still Harry had to take some of the blame for their failure, too. He was almost afraid to mention it, afraid that it would remind Snape that he was supposed to hate Harry, but apologising was the right thing to do. Harry would have to do it as soon as he had a chance.

Right now he just hoped their Defense lessons would go more smoothly. Well, he would pay attention and try his best this time. He'd just have to hope that Snape would try, too. Spending the morning with Snape jeering and belittling him wouldn't be a lot of fun.

But his life wasn't about having fun, Harry reminded himself. It was about destroying Voldemort. He had to do that before he could do anything for himself, and Snape was a strong wizard. He could help Harry prepare, and if he was unpleasant about it...well, that didn't really matter, did it?

He looked back at Snape and nodded, "Yes, sir."

"Very well, then." Snape stood and started for the door, levitating the trays before him once again. "Get dressed and come out to the front lawn when you're ready."

When he was gone, Harry climbed out of bed and dressed in jeans, a blue T-shirt, and his old worn-out trainers. He went to the bathroom to brush his teeth and tug a comb through his hair (not that it ever seemed to do much good), and then studied himself in the mirror for a minute.

He was too pale, with dark circles under his eyes, and was still too short and skinny for his age. It wasn't fair. Ron, Neville, and all the other guys were growing. Why wasn't he? Well, it was true that he hadn't eaten much lately, but still he didn't seem to have grown much at all over the past year and he hadn't been starving himself all that time.

Judging from the pictures he'd seen of them, his parents didn't seem to have been short. They hadn't been tall, perhaps, but they both looked as if they'd been average height at least. Harry sighed. With his luck, his growth had probably been permanently affected by malnutrition from living with the Dursleys when he'd been a little kid.

Well, at least he was still taller than the girls, though what difference did it make really? It wasn't as if any girl would be interested in him if she knew he was a slave. It was just as well, really, that he was going to go on and be with his parents and Sirius one day.

Thinking about that reminded Harry that he had to beat Voldemort first, and that Snape was waiting for him outside for a Defense lesson. He went back to his room, grabbed his wand, and hurried downstairs.

It was a cool day, with clouds blocking the sunlight and a brisk breeze that made Harry shiver slightly as he came out the front door and crossed the stone terrace to the lawn. He briefly considered asking Snape if he could go back for a jacket to wear over his thin T-shirt, but then decided not to. A jacket might be a bit cumbersome if he were dueling, and besides, he'd probably warm up quickly if he were moving around.

Snape was standing on the lawn with a dummy-figure beside him. It was the size and shape of a man, but was covered with burlap. A short thick wand was grasped in its hand.

Harry looked at it curiously as he came over to join Snape and the dummy.

"Harry, this is Toby," Snape's lip curled as he pronounced the name with disdain. "Albus helped me create him years ago and insisted that I name the object...his idea of humour I suppose, though he was a bit taken aback at the name I chose." A slightly malicious grin crossed Snape's face as he looked at the dummy.

It disappeared though when he turned his attention back to Harry. "You realise of course, Harry, that it would be impossible for me to duel with you myself. We have to be very careful that the slavery curse never interprets your actions as an attack against me. So I will instruct and supervise, but Toby will be your actual dueling partner."

Harry felt a small pang at the reminder that he was a slave, as he always did, but quickly pushed it aside and focused on the rest of Snape's words.

"It can duel?" He studied the dummy with interest. "Wow, that's really cool."

Yes, it is, isn't it?" Snape remarked dryly. "I will admit that Toby has been useful over the years. It's helped me to keep my skills sharp in the months that I am here alone. Now, I can adjust Toby's speed and skill to match yours but I need to get an idea of what level you're at, so to begin with, we'll go over the hexes and jinxes you've already learned."

He began walking away from the dummy across the wide expanse of lawn and motioned for Harry to come with him. When they were approximately twenty meters away from ‘Toby', they stopped and Snape nodded to Harry.

"All right, Harry, show me the spells you're familiar with."

"I just aim at him?" Harry asked uncertainly, eyeing the target.

"Yes, don't worry. He's practically indestructible. Cast a Blasting Curse at him," Snape instructed.

Harry hesitated, but then raised his wand and shouted, "Confringo!"

A jet of light shot from his wand and hit the dummy squarely in the chest. It promptly exploded and left only a pile of dust on the ground.

Harry looked at Snape, horrified, but Snape just gave a lazy flick with his own wand and the dust rose, swirling faster and faster in a miniature cyclone, and then re-formed into ‘Toby'.

"There. I told you, practically indestructible." Snape raised an eyebrow at him. "That was a decent Blasting Curse, too."

Had Snape actually just complimented him? Harry felt his face turn red and he looked at the ground. "Thank you, sir."

Snape nodded briskly. "Go on, then."

So Harry spent the next hour running through all the hexes, jinxes, and charms he'd learned in class, and some that he and his friends had learned on their own; the Disarming spell, stinging hexes, reductor curses, stunners, the Shield Charm, and everything else he could think of.

At first Snape just watched in silence, but then he began instructing... showing Harry ways he could distract an opponent, how he could use his body to partially shield wand movements, and having him practice motions over and over to improve his speed. Harry was breathing hard when Snape finally nodded in approval and called a break.

The professor conjured two glasses of cool water and handed one to Harry. "Sit down and rest for a few minutes."

Harry was tired enough to sink gratefully down to the ground, but he was surprised when Snape joined him in sitting cross-legged on the grass. They sipped their water in silence, and Harry reflected that the lesson was going far better than he'd expected. Snape could be a good instructor when he chose, and he hadn't made a single derogatory comment. Harry found that he'd actually been enjoying himself. It gave him a real sense of satisfaction to feel that he was learning and taking steps towards defeating Voldemort.

When they'd finished their water and rested for a little while, Snape turned to Harry and said, "Ready to work with Toby?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir."

They stood and Snape walked a distance away from both Harry and the dummy. Harry drew his wand and waited tensely as Snape cast some enchantment over Toby and the dummy seemed to come to life.

It cast a Stunning Spell at Harry, who managed to perform a Shield Charm just in time. He threw a Disarming Spell back at it, but Toby twisted nimbly out of the way while shooting a Tripping Jinx in return.

Harry just barely avoided the jinx and shouted, "Protego!" With his Shield protecting him, he took a deep breath. Toby moved as quickly and spryly as a real person. Harry would need to concentrate and do his best. He grinned a little as he twirled his wand and called out, "Rictusempra!"

Spells flew back and forth, as Harry and Toby circled. Harry was slightly quicker and more agile, but Toby had the advantage of being able to cast silently so Harry didn't know what to expect from him. He managed to avoid most of Toby's hits, but found that he was being forced to become defensive rather than offensive.

As if reading his mind, Snape called, "That's fine, Harry. It takes more energy to fight offensively. Against a live person, it could be to your advantage to fight defensively for a time. Let your opponent tire and then you can attack. You just need one good hit."

Harry watched the dummy with grim determination, waiting for his chance. He dodged another Stunning Spell and then grabbed an opportunity.

"Locomotor Mortis!"

The Leg-Locker hit Toby and caused him to crash to the ground.

"Yes....Ow!"

At the same instant Harry had aimed the Leg-Locker at Toby, the dummy had fired a stinging hex at him and Harry hadn't been able to block it in time. He winced at the sudden sharp pain that lashed the back of his hand and cradled it to his chest for an instant.

"Harry? Are you all right?" Snape came hurrying over to him, and the concern in his voice and his face brought a lump to Harry's throat, for some inexplicable reason.

"Yeah. I mean, yes, sir. It's nothing. It's fine now." Harry said thickly.

"Let me see." With uncharacteristic tenderness, Snape reached for Harry's hand.

"It's really nothing, sir. I'm..." Harry began, feeling completely embarrassed about making a big deal over a simple stinger...it had just caught him by surprise, but he'd certainly endured much worse without complaint. He broke off suddenly, though, because Snape had raised his face and he wore such an expression of cold rage that Harry's voice froze. What in the world could he have done now?

"What is this?" Snape's voice was taut with fury, but his fingers were gentle as they traced the scarred words I must not tell lies on the back of Harry's hand.

"Um...well, last year," Harry stumbled over the words, but there really wasn't anything he could do but tell the truth, or at least he couldn't think of anything else to do at the moment. "Last year, when I had detention with Umbridge, she made me write lines with this quill that wrote the words on my hand instead of parchment."

"Does Albus know about this? Does anyone?" Snape's words were still clipped with anger, but his anger wasn't directed at Harry. Harry almost sagged in relief at that realisation.

"Um, Ron and Hermione know?" It came out sounding more like a question than an answer.

Snape sucked in a long breath and let it out slowly. "And why, in Merlin's name, did you foolish children not tell any adult? Blood Quills are illegal and Umbridge could be sent to Azkaban for using one, especially on a child. Albus would have had fits if he'd known she had one. Minerva could have helped you, or Poppy. Even I would have put a stop to it."

Harry swallowed. "Hermione said we should tell..."

"Miss Granger always was the brains of your group. So why didn't you?"

"You know how it was at Hogwarts last year. Umbridge had all the power. We thought about going to Professor McGonagall or Dumbledore, but we were afraid she'd find a way to get rid of them and we needed them at school." Harry said quietly.

Snape sighed. "You foolish children," he repeated, sounding sad as well as angry. "Umbridge did not have all the power. Albus let her have a great deal simply because he was trying to postpone a confrontation with the Ministry, but he would have drawn the line at her physically abusing students."

He shook his head and then spoke more crisply. "But it may not be too late. Come along, Harry." And he swept off inside Prince Hall with Harry following.

They went to the front parlor and Snape tossed some Floo powder into the fireplace and knelt, firecalling Dumbledore's office at Hogwarts. When he withdrew his head and stood again, he glanced over at Harry and murmured, "I almost forgot. My apologies, Harry."

Then he called more loudly, "Zan!"

There was a pop and the elf appeared. "Yes, Master Severus?"

"Would you please go down to my laboratory and bring a vial of murtlap essence?"

"Of course." Zan disappeared and came back a moment later with a small vial, which he handed to Snape.

"Thank you, Zan. Oh, Professor Dumbledore is coming in a few minutes. Would you or Norie please set an extra place for lunch?"

Zan nodded. "Yes, Master Severus. I hope everything is all right?"

Snape looked rather grim. "Yes. We just have some old business to take care of."

Zan left and Snape motioned for Harry to sit on the sofa. Harry sat down, still feeling terribly embarrassed at all the fuss. Snape sat beside him, took a handkerchief from his pocket and poured the murtlap essence on it.

"Here, rub this across your hand and the stinging hex won't bother you anymore," Snape instructed.

Harry did so, even though the stinging hex had already faded and wasn't really bothering him now, not much anyway.

"Sir? We really don't have to bother Dumbledore with this, do we? I mean, it's all over and Umbridge is gone and..."

"Yes, Harry we do need to bother Albus with this," Snape's voice was fierce. "Umbridge must not be allowed to get away with abusing children. If you have no regard for yourself, then think of other innocents she has surely abused."

He looked at Harry steadily for a long moment before continuing, his voice suddenly much softer. "Harry, you have never had a guardian who had the desire or the ability to see to your welfare. But just because you've never had it doesn't mean that you don't deserve it. You have the same right to be protected and cared for as any other child."

Harry didn't know what to say to that and even if he had wanted to answer, that lump was back in his throat, making speech difficult. He just bowed his head and they were still sitting in silence a short time later when the Floo flared and Dumbledore joined them.

"Severus, Harry, I'm delighted to see you again, but I must confess to being a little surprised to hear from you so soon," Dumbledore paused as Snape stood to meet him, the younger man's face grim and tense. "What's wrong, Severus?"

Snape gestured towards Harry. "Look at Harry's right hand."

Dumbledore came over to sit beside Harry. "May I?"

Harry reluctantly held out his hand so that the headmaster could see the scars.

Dumbledore stared at his hand for a moment; then looked up to gaze into Harry's eyes.

"Explain, please." His voice was quiet, but very firm.

Harry ducked his head and stared at the carpet as he slowly told the story. When he'd finished, Snape was pacing around the room. Dumbledore was quiet and Harry finally risked looking up at him. He was surprised at the grief he saw in the headmaster's eyes.

"Harry. I am so sorry, child. I failed you in so many ways last year," Dumbledore said heavily.

"Last year is over. What do we do now?" Snape demanded. "Umbridge should go to Azkaban, at the very least."

"Oh, she will, if I have anything to say about it." Dumbledore sounded as grim as Snape now. He was quiet for a little while, thinking, and then he looked back at Harry.

"Harry, do you know if she used this Blood Quill on any other students, or abused them in any way? Or was it only you?"

Harry thought back to last year. "She used it on Lee Jordan, I think, and maybe this girl from Ravenclaw, Faith Kincade."

"Very well. I'll contact the Jordans and the Kincades and see if perhaps they're willing to press charges. If it's possible, I do think it would be best for now to keep Harry out of it. I'd rather keep him away from the Ministry and out of the public spotlight. But if there is no other way, then we'll make the necessary arrangements. One way or another, Dolores Umbridge will be held accountable."

There was an almost predatory gleam in Snape's eyes. "If you should need anyone to confront her, Albus..."

"I will be sure not to call on you," Dumbledore said dryly. "I prefer to keep you out of Azkaban, Severus."

Snape snorted, but only said, "I believe lunch must be ready by now. Shall we?"

"Harry and I will be along in just a minute," Dumbledore replied.

Snape looked at him; then nodded and left Harry and Dumbledore alone.

"Harry." Dumbledore waited until Harry looked back up at him before continuing in a soft voice. "I do apologise for letting you down last year, and for all the times I've failed you in the past. As I told you at the end of term, I'm far from perfect and I've made many mistakes. I sometimes think I've made more mistakes in the past fifteen years in regards to you than in all the other years of my life put together. I'm just so sorry that you are the one who's suffered because of them."

"I've tried to foster a sense of independence and resourcefulness in you, because I thought you would need it to be successful. But I can see that I've erred again, in letting it go to extremes. I've made you feel that you must face things alone and cannot depend on adults to help you."

"I don't...you didn't..." Harry mumbled, not sure what he was trying to say. It was true, really, but he hated for Dumbledore to feel so sorrowful and guilty.

"If I am not solely to blame, then I have contributed heavily," Dumbledore insisted. He reached over to lay a hand on Harry's knee. "But Harry, I do want you to know that from now on, you do have people you can go to for help and guidance. You may come to me anytime you wish, even if it is for something you think is silly or irrelevant. And Harry," Dumbledore patted his knee and Harry saw a ghost of a twinkle in the old wizard's blue eyes. "I do think you may consider Severus a mentor and friend as well. I would not like to be Dolores Umbridge if she should ever happen to meet up with Severus again."

Harry had to smile a little. "Me, either, sir."

"Well, then, shall we go and see what delicious meal awaits us in the dining room?" Dumbledore stood and ushered Harry ahead of him.

As they ate, Harry thought about what Dumbledore had said. He didn't think he was likely to go to any of them with his problems. It wasn't like Dumbledore or Snape could help him really. They couldn't change the prophecy that said he was the only one who could beat Voldemort. They couldn't bring back his parents or Sirius, and they couldn't undo the slavery spell.

And yet, the idea that he might be able to turn to Snape for help didn't seem as completely ridiculous and impossible as it once would have been.

***

It was late that night when Severus went into Harry's rooms. The boy was sleeping peacefully, thank Merlin. Severus had made sure he took his dreamless sleep potion earlier that evening after dinner. Harry had gone to bed soon afterwards, but Severus had sat up late, reading about techniques for teaching defense.

It was a common misconception that he coveted the DADA position at Hogwarts...as if he would ever give up teaching potions. But he wanted to do his very best for Harry now. The boy's life might depend on it, and Severus realised that he had grown to care very much for Harry in the past weeks. At one time, it would have been enough to know that the boy could defeat Voldemort and win the war. Now that wasn't enough. Harry had to live, too.

The boy had surprised him that morning, in more ways than one. Harry was much more skilled at dueling than Severus had expected. That was an excellent surprise, but it also meant that there was no point in spending the next weeks on basic spells and maneuvers as Severus had originally planned. No, Harry was ready for advanced skills, which meant that Severus needed to re-vamp his plans.

Severus shook his head as he thought about the other shock he'd received that day...finding out about the Blood Quill and the unsettling realisation of how much he'd come to care. He had been shaken by the sheer force of his feelings...the intense protectiveness he'd felt for the boy, and the fury at Umbridge when he'd realised that she had hurt his Harry.

"Never again," he whispered. "You're my child now, and no one will ever hurt you again."

He gently carded his fingers through Harry's hair and tucked the blankets around his shoulders before silently slipping away back to his own rooms.

Harry coughed three times during breakfast the next morning. After the third cough, Severus laid down his fork and slipped his wand from his sleeve.

"Are you ill? Do you feel poorly?" He asked, frowning as he quickly ran through a basic diagnostic spell.

Harry shook his head. "No, sir. I feel all right."

"Well, you don't have a fever, but there is a little congestion in your chest. After breakfast, I'll fetch some pepperup potion for you." Severus sighed.

Yesterday had been chillier than was normal for this time of year, and windy too. Harry had only worn that thin T-shirt. He'd probably gotten chilled at first, and then warmed up quickly during the dueling practise, and had perhaps gotten chilled again as he cooled off.

And he had only just recovered from his lungs being badly burned. Poppy had warned him that Harry's lungs and immune system might be slightly weakened for a time and that he could catch cold easily. Severus should have at least made sure the boy had a jacket.

He felt a wave of guilt assault him. What kind of guardian or parent figure was he? He had so easily forgotten that they needed to be careful of Harry's health. Not to mention that it was entirely his fault that Harry had been injured in the first place.

"I'm sorry, sir." A quiet voice interrupted Severus' brooding and he looked over to see Harry watching him.

"For what?" He asked.

"For being so much trouble. But really, you don't have to bother. I'm fine. It was just a little cough," the boy said softly.

Apparently Harry had misunderstood his frown and sigh. Severus almost sighed again. How many times since Harry Potter had come into his life had they misunderstood each other? He felt an intense sorrow that their past had unfolded so, that he had wasted so many years stubbornly clinging to the false image of a spoiled and arrogant miniature James Potter instead of being willing to see the boy as a unique person in his own right.

But what was done was done. The important thing was to try to repair their relationship now, and right now he could clear up this misunderstanding.

"First of all, Harry, you are no trouble. If anything, you go out of your way to avoid causing the tiniest disturbance. Secondly, you do not ever have to apologise for being ill. Indeed, in this case, I should apologise to you. Yesterday was cool and windy, and it was the first time you exerted yourself since being injured. I should have had you wear a jacket, and we probably shouldn't have practised for quite so long."

Harry blinked and was silent for a minute, as if he weren't sure how to respond at first. Then he said, "That's all right, sir. I did start to get a jacket but I didn't think I would need one once we started working." He hesitated. "And I really enjoyed our lesson. You...you helped me a lot."

Now Severus wasn't sure how to respond. He finally settled for nodding and saying briskly, "Well, you need to take the pepperup potion this morning and we won't duel today. If your congestion has cleared up by tomorrow, we'll have another session then."

Harry looked disappointed. "But, sir, it's just a little cough. I'm not sick. Couldn't we please duel again today?"

Severus shook his head. "I know you're not actually sick, Harry, and I intend to keep you well. It's important to get this cleared up now and not let it develop into a cold or something even worse. Right now if you take a dose of pepperup and don't overexert yourself, then you should be completely well in a day or so. Tomorrow will be soon enough to resume our lessons."

Harry opened his mouth, then quickly closed it and bit his lip. He wasn't just disappointed, Severus realised then. Harry was actually worried.

"What is it, Harry?" He asked quietly.

Harry looked down at his plate. Severus had almost given up hoping for an answer when the boy spoke.

"It's just that I can't waste any more time. I have to be ready. I have to beat him next time." A shadow crossed Harry's face. "I can't let anyone else die because I was lazy and didn't work hard enough."

Severus couldn't bear the pain in his voice. He reached out and let his hand settle on the boy's shoulder.

"Harry, no one has died because of you."

Harry looked at him, the pain in his face temporarily replaced with sheer incredulity. Then he shook his head sharply and turned back to his plate. "Lots of people have died because of me."

"Harry, look at me." When Harry hesitated, Severus moved his hand to cup the child's chin and gently raised it so they were staring into one another's eyes.

"Harry, lots of people have died because of Voldemort, not because of you. You should take the blame or the credit for the things you choose to do or not do. But you are not responsible for the choices other people make."

Severus paused, wondering if he dared mention Black's death. He really wasn't sure if he and Harry were ready for this conversation. But Harry needed to hear it from someone and Severus was the only one available. He would just have to do the best he could.

He took a deep breath. "I presume you are mainly referring to our disastrous Occlumency lessons last year and to your godfather's death. Harry, you and I are both to blame for the Occlumency lessons failing. But it was more my fault than yours. I...allowed my misconceptions of you to interfere and I used the lessons as an excuse to hurt and humiliate you. I...do apologise for that."

"But Harry, you and I are not to blame for Sirius Black's death. Bellatrix LeStrange and Voldemort are. If you blame yourself, you're letting them off and they're the ones who are truly guilty. Do you understand?"

Slowly Harry nodded, looking almost dazed. Severus released his chin and they both quickly went back to eating. As they were finishing, Harry spoke again, so quietly that Severus almost didn't hear him.

"I'm sorry."

Severus looked at him with a mixture of concern, sorrow, and annoyance. Why did the child feel a need to apologise every five minutes?

"For what?" He repeated.

"For looking in your Pensieve. I really wasn't trying to snoop into your memories...not just to see personal stuff, I mean. I thought it would be something about Voldemort and no one would tell me anything last year, and..." Harry's voice trailed off.

"But I know it was wrong and I'm sorry," he finished awkwardly.

For a moment, Severus honestly wasn't sure how to respond. He felt a disconcerting mix of anger and embarrassment at the memory and for a second it almost got the better of him. But then he saw that Harry was looking at him and there was genuine fear in the child's green eyes.

And at once Severus was ashamed of himself. How many times had he wronged Harry? How many times had he misjudged him, sneered at him, punished him unfairly? And if Harry had violated his privacy by sneaking into the Pensieve, hadn't Severus done essentially the same thing in all those lessons when he'd attacked Harry's mind in the name of teaching? So how could he be angry now?

He reached over to touch Harry's shoulder again and was cut to the heart when Harry flinched at his touch.

"We've both wronged one another, but again I am more to blame than you," Severus told him. "I think it would best if we agreed to simply start over."

Without waiting for Harry's response, he abruptly stood and walked over to the fireplace. "I'll get the pepperup potion. Wait here."

After taking the medicine, Harry went back upstairs to his room, probably to continue studying, and Severus wandered to the library. He sat down at his desk and picked up a quill. He'd been neglecting his journal lately, but ever since Harry had been injured, he'd felt guilty when writing in it and after scribbling out a brief uneventful entry, Severus set the quill down and closed the journal's cover.

He started to take his wand and Accio some more books on Defense Against the Dark Arts, but just then the Floo came to life and Albus' face hovered in the fireplace.

"Severus? May I come over for a few minutes?"

"Of course, Albus."

The headmaster came through, looking very satisfied. "I'll only stay a moment, but I did want to tell you and Harry that I've contacted the Jordans and the Kincades, and both families are furious with Dolores Umbridge and the Ministry. They can't wait to file charges against Umbridge and possibly Fudge too, for giving her so much authority. I think it's safe to say that our friends at the Ministry will soon be unemployed and that Umbridge at least is almost certain to spend some time in Azkaban."

"Azkaban's too good for her," Severus growled.

"Well, I do agree with you on that, but Azkaban is no picnic," Albus commented.

"Well, if Fudge is forced out, I only hope his successor will be slightly more intelligent." Severus considered some of the top Ministry officials, trying to decide which one was most likely to replace Fudge.

"One can always dream," Albus chuckled. He looked around. "Where is Harry?"

"He's upstairs in his room. He had a cough this morning so I decided to cancel our dueling lesson. Poppy said he could be prone to illness for a time," Severus added defensively.

"Of course, Severus," Albus nodded gravely, but his eyes were twinkling. Before the younger man could grow even more indignant though, he asked, "So everything is going well for you and Harry now?"

"I suppose that depends on what you mean by ‘well'," Severus replied. "Harry and I are getting along all right, I think. I admit that I'm finding him to be quite tolerable. But he's going through a difficult time. He grieves for his godfather and feels responsible for his death, and I think he is affected by this spell he's under as well."

Albus sighed. "Of course he is, poor child. I wish we could do more for him." He considered. "You know, Severus, perhaps we should think about telling Arthur and Molly Weasley about the slavery spell. They've raised seven fine children and they know Harry. Perhaps they could help us to figure out ways to help him."

At Severus' fierce glower, Albus shrugged. "Well, it was just an idea."

Severus scowled. He didn't know why he felt such an aversion to Albus' suggestion. It did make sense. But somehow the presumption that he couldn't help Harry and meet the child's needs bothered him. Hadn't he talked with Harry about Sirius Black just that very morning? Wasn't he making every effort to help Harry adjust to his situation?

Besides, the slavery spell needed to be kept secret and it just wouldn't be safe to let Arthur and Molly know. Oh, they wouldn't deliberately tell anyone, but those infernal children of theirs were consummate eavesdroppers and knew every trick in the book. For a fleeting instant, Severus had the extremely unsettling thought that perhaps the younger Weasleys would have done all right in Slytherin. Wouldn't that have been a nightmare! Severus resolutely pushed that thought away and decided again that it was much better to not involve the Weasley family.

He ignored the small voice that whispered that he was afraid because he knew Harry was fond of the Weasleys and he wanted Harry to like him more.

"What Harry needs is to be freed from this slavery spell. I don't suppose you've had any luck in finding a counter?" Even as he spoke the words, Severus felt a wave of fear, fear that Albus really might find a way to free Harry.

And then he felt the most intense shame and remorse that he'd ever felt, even more than when he'd turned from Voldemort. If he had any compassion for Harry, how could he possibly wish to keep the boy under the slavery spell? He was truly a horrible person.

But if Harry were free again, then he'd leave. He'd leave Prince Hall and he'd leave Severus.

And Severus couldn't face losing the child...his child, not now when he knew how much he cared.

When Albus said sadly, "No, Severus. I doubt I'll ever find a way to cancel the slavery spell." Severus had to turn away because he wasn't sure he could hide his mingled relief and guilt.

I'll make it up to you, Harry. You'll be happy here one day. I promise you will.

***

Harry was reading about human transfiguration when a knock on his door made him turn around to find Snape there.

"It occurred to me that since we can't duel today, perhaps we could finish that chess game instead," the professor slowly offered.

Harry hesitated. There was a part of him that just kept telling him that he needed to study and work hard and only concentrate on being prepared to face Voldemort again. He didn't have time to play.

But there was something about Snape, something about his stilted words and the guarded look in his eyes.... Somehow Harry knew that if he refused, it would hurt Snape even though he was sure the professor would hide it.

He didn't want to hurt Snape. As strange as that would have seemed at one time, it was true now. Besides, he'd been studying for a couple hours already and he could read more this afternoon. So he set his book aside and smiled. "All right. I'd like that."

They went across the hall to Snape's sitting room, Harry hesitating an instant at the doorway. It felt a little strange to come into Snape's personal rooms. But then he followed the professor in and they sat back down at the table with the chessboard atop it.

For a while they concentrated on their game, studying the board intently and concentrating on their moves. The only sound was the quiet murmur of their voices telling the pieces where to go.

Finally Harry looked up with a small smile. "Ron's chess pieces will talk to you," he said. "They always argue with me about where to go, although they don't do that as much as they used to. But these are awfully quiet. Can they talk?"

"Perhaps at one point they did. But these pieces used to belong to Jeremiah Prince and I imagine even chess pieces learned not to argue with him," Snape replied dryly.

Harry hesitated. "I'm surprised you didn't name the dummy ‘Jerry' or maybe ‘Jamie'."

For a moment he was afraid that he'd gone too far, that perhaps he'd angered Snape again, but then the professor snorted and Harry realised that he actually looked amused.

"So you caught on to that? Well, I might have been tempted to call it ‘Jerry' but my grandfather was still alive when I created it and I didn't want to do anything that would endanger my inheritance. I'd endured enough from him over the years. I'd earned some reward for it. As for calling it after James Potter...well, Harry, you might find it hard to believe, but my feelings for your father have never compared to what I feel for Tobias Snape and Jeremiah Prince."

The amusement had vanished to replaced by a haunted look. It was gone almost instantly and Snape was cool and collected again, but Harry knew it had been there and he remembered the small lonely little boy he'd glimpsed in Snape's memories once.

"Now that you're here, perhaps we'll create another one to be ‘Jerry'," Snape went on. He studied Harry. "Or perhaps you'd like to name it after the Dursleys?"

Harry ducked his head. "Maybe," he said softly.

He considered the chess board and then ordered a knight to a new position.

Snape shook his head. "Ah, your Gryffindor tendencies are coming out again. Not a wise move there, Harry."

Harry glanced over at him. "The Sorting Hat almost put me in Slytherin, did you know?"

Snape stared at him. "That's impossible."

Harry shook his head. "No, sir, it wanted to at first. It told me I could be great in Slytherin, but..." He stopped as he realised that Snape might be insulted at learning that Harry had deliberately chosen not to be in his House.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Well, obviously you convinced it otherwise. I'm curious as to why? Surely you hadn't been prejudiced against Slytherin at that early stage?"

"Well, actually I guess I had," Harry admitted. "I'd just heard about Voldemort killing my parents not long before, and that he'd been in Slytherin so I didn't want to go there because of that. And besides, Draco Malfoy had already been put in Slytherin, and he'd insulted Ron earlier."

Harry looked up at him. "You see, I met Ron and the other Weasleys at Platform 9 and Three Quarters, and they'd been nicer to me than anyone. Ron was my first real friend and Malfoy reminded me of my cousin Dudley a little bit, the way he was bullying people and being mean for no reason. So after he was placed in Slytherin, I really didn't want to be there. I was hoping to get away from kids like Dudley and his friends."

He shrugged. "I didn't know much about Gryffindor then. But I knew Ron was there, and I just wanted to stay with the first friend I'd ever had."

Snape slowly nodded. "That is understandable."

They played in silence again for a little while, but then Snape cleared his throat.

"Harry, it occurs to me that I've been calling you by your first name for a few days now...." He paused and though his face was carefully blank, Harry thought the professor was uncertain.

"Yes, sir?"

"Well, I thought that perhaps I should extend the same offer to you."

Now Harry was the one who was uncertain. Could Snape really mean what Harry thought he meant?

"Sir?"

Snape was definitely uncomfortable now. His expression didn't change, but somehow Harry knew he was. There was something in his eyes...

"I mean to say that you are welcome to call me by my given name if you should wish." Snape said in a low voice.

Harry was so stunned he didn't know how to respond.

After a long moment, the professor spoke again, sounding very awkward. "Of course if you are uncomfortable doing that, you may continue to call me ‘Sir' or ‘Professor'." Abruptly he stood. "It is almost time for lunch. We should go downstairs."

Snape started for the door. Harry gazed after him, feeling as if the world had turned upside down. He couldn't believe that Snape had just invited him to call him by his first name. But it seemed to mean a lot to Snape and just as he'd known that the professor had been uneasy at first, Harry knew Snape would be hurt if he refused. Snape wouldn't show it, but he would be hurt.

So Harry took a deep breath and said, "Sir? Do you really mean it?"

Snape nodded stiffly. "If you wish."

It did seem strange and alien, but Harry forced himself to say, "I'll try...Severus."

The professor's lips quirked upwards, and he motioned for Harry to join him. "Come along then, Harry."

Harry couldn't help feeling awkward and lost, as if he had stepped off a well-traveled path into the wilderness, but he felt himself smiling back as he followed Snape...Severus downstairs.

Harry sat cross-legged on his bed with his eyes trained on the clock hanging on the wall. A soft glow from his wand cast enough light that he could see the impossibly slow-moving hands as they counted the minutes away. He'd closed his door so that the light wouldn't disturb Snape...no, Severus across the hall from his own room, but Harry wasn't sleepy and he couldn't give up his old habit of waiting up for his birthday.

Just five more minutes. Five more minutes and he'd be sixteen. Harry hoped fervently that sixteen would be a better year for him than fifteen had been. Fourteen hadn't been a picnic either, come to think of it. Surely he was due for a good year.

If he were lucky, really lucky, maybe he could even go to be with his parents and Sirius before his seventeenth birthday. His parents. Sirius. Harry let himself imagine what it might have been like if he'd been able to grow up with them, and if they were still alive now. If he had a birthday party, with cake and ice cream and presents, to look forward to tomorrow.

He'd live with his parents in a comfortable home in Godric's Hollow, or perhaps they'd have a family estate like Prince Hall for themselves. The Potters had been quite wealthy after all. Or maybe they'd have a townhouse in London like the Black family had had. Harry didn't really care where they would have lived as long as they were together.

He would have a lifetime of happy memories, a long list of old birthday parties with huge cakes with "Happy Birthday, Harry" written in icing and glowing candles on top. He'd remember blowing them out and having his parents, and probably Remus and Sirius too, tease him about making wishes. He'd have memories of playing games with his friends. He'd be able to look forward to another party on the morrow.

He'd have Ron and Hermione there, of course, and the twins and Ginny. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would be there, too, to visit with his parents and Remus and Sirius. He'd probably have invited Neville and Luna as well, and all the kids would play Quidditch and have broomstick races while the adults sat around and talked about the old days. Or more likely, his dad and Sirius at least would join in the games, and perhaps his mum, too.

Harry let their faces swim before his mind's eye...the images he'd seen of Lily Potter with her long auburn hair falling around her delicate heart-shaped face and her brilliant emerald eyes, and James Potter, looking so much like an older, taller version of Harry with his perpetually mussed black hair and spectacles. Except that James' eyes had been hazel, and he'd always looked carefree and cheerful in the pictures Harry had seen of him.

Harry wondered what they might look like now, if they were still alive. They'd be thirty-seven now. Would they still look much the same, or would they have aged? Harry tried to imagine them looking older, but found it impossible. James and Lily Potter were forever twenty-one and he couldn't envision them any other way.

Not so with Sirius. Harry's thoughts drifted to his godfather. He'd seen a couple of old photographs of Sirius, not to mention Snape's...no, Severus' memories of the teenage Marauders , so he knew what young Sirius Black had looked like...striking, tall and lean with an aristocratic yet rugged face, deepset grey eyes, and well-kept black hair.

But it was the older Sirius that Harry was more familiar with...the man who was gaunt rather than lean, whose once handsome face had become too angular and deeply lined, whose eyes were haunted and whose hair had grown long and shaggy, as if he wanted it to match the fur of his Animagus form.

For an instant, the two images blurred together in Harry's mind and he felt a fierce ache deep inside.

I hope you're happy now, Sirius, wherever you are.

The sound of soft chimes interrupted Harry's thoughts and he blinked, realising that while he'd been lost in his dreams, the minutes had passed. It was midnight. He was sixteen.

"Happy Birthday, Harry," he whispered to himself, remembering one other time he'd wished himself a happy birthday and a few moments later Hagrid had come bursting through the door, to introduce Harry to the wizarding world and to bring him to Hogwarts.

Nothing happened this time, of course. Harry shook his head at his own foolishness. What did he think might happen? Sn...Severus and the elves were all sound asleep and Hedwig was soaring through the night sky. There wouldn't even be any owls from Ron and Hermione this time.

Oh, his friends would surely send him gifts and perhaps birthday cakes, too, since they still thought he was at Privet Drive with the Dursleys who would die before they would acknowledge that July 31st had any particular significance. But anything Ron and Hermione would send would go to Hogwarts first, though Dumbledore might bring them by for him sometime tomorrow.

Harry sighed. He should probably just go to bed and try to sleep. He wasn't really sure why he'd sat up anyway. He'd known there wouldn't be any midnight owls and gifts this year. It was just that he'd always waited up til midnight, ever since he'd been a really little kid and for some reason he'd felt like he needed to do it again this year.

But he really should sleep now. He was getting tired, actually, and he didn't know what tomorrow (today actually) would hold. Sn...Severus did know it was his birthday, unless he'd forgotten since the day he'd asked Harry what he might want for a gift. But when had Sn...Severus ever forgotten anything?

Harry still couldn't imagine Severus giving him a birthday gift, though, even if they were getting along better now. And, if the professor did give him a present, what in the world would it be? A jar of newt eyes? A bottle of runespoor eggs? Or a new cauldron maybe?

Well, at least he should get to have another dueling session. He hadn't coughed since taking the Pepperup Potion at breakfast that morning (or was it yesterday morning now?) and before they'd retired to bed Sn...Severus had performed another diagnostic spell and had said that the congestion in Harry's chest had cleared up. His lungs were officially healed from being burned too, for that matter. The professor had said that he no longer needed to take the tissue restoration potion either.

Harry slid his glasses off and set them on the night table beside the bed as he thought about dueling with ‘Toby' again. He was going to be ready next time. He was going to get off the first shot and hit the dummy with a Disarming Spell right away. Disarming Spells were Harry's specialty. ‘Expelliarmus' had saved his life the time he'd faced Voldemort in the graveyard near the Riddle House, and it was probably the spell Harry could perform the most quickly. Hopefully he'd be quick enough to win without letting ‘Toby' get in any hits of his own.

He crawled under the blankets and closed his eyes. Within moments, he was asleep.

***

"Happy Birthday, Master Harry!"

The chorus of high-pitched voices woke Harry from a sound sleep. He sat up, blinking, and fumbled for his glasses. Norie and Zan were standing right beside his bed, beaming at him and levitating a plate piled high with scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. A tumbler of orange juice floated in the air beside it.

Though he had not joined the elves in waking Harry, Sn...Severus was there as well, standing behind Norie and Zan. He was already dressed in his customary black robes and just watched Harry quietly.

Harry looked from the elves to the professor in bewilderment. "What is this?"

Severus arched an eyebrow at him. "Now, Harry, I expect even a Gryffindor to recognise breakfast," he said almost lightly.

The plate settled right in front of him and the tumbler of juice came to rest on the night table. Harry looked at it and then back at Severus. "In my room? But I'm not sick. You said my lungs were clear and I feel fine."

"But it is your birthday, Master Harry," Norie told him. "We always used to serve Master Severus breakfast in bed on his birthday when he was a boy."

"Really?" Harry looked at Sn...Severus, and tried to picture him lounging about, eating breakfast in bed.

"It was one of the few respites from the normally rigid rules of the house that I was permitted," Severus explained.

"Oh." Harry looked back down at his breakfast and then back up at the others with a small smile. "Well, thanks. It looks really good." He picked up his fork and took a bite. "What about all of you? Aren't you going to eat, too?"

Severus lips turned up slightly. "We ate an hour ago. We let you have a lie-in as you seemed a bit tired."

"Oh. Well, I suppose I was. Thank you,sir...um, Severus." It was incredibly hard to force himself to call the professor by his first name and Harry wondered if it would ever grow easier.

Sn...Severus just nodded. Norie and Zan wished Harry a happy birthday again and disappeared, but the professor remained. He summoned a chair and sat down beside the bed as Harry ate.

"I hope you're feeling rested now, as I have a rather busy day planned," Severus remarked after a brief silence.

Harry wasn't sure exactly how to respond. Severus had planned activities for today? For Harry's birthday? He swallowed a bite of bacon. "Um, yes, sir. I feel fine."

"So long as we're not at Hogwarts, you may call me by name and not as ‘sir'." Severus told him. He waited until Harry was finished and then, when Harry set his empty plate and glass back on the table, Severus raised his wand and a brightly wrapped box flew through the door and across the room to land gently beside Harry on the bed.

"We'll be walking around a bit today so I thought I'd better go ahead and give these to you now."

If Harry hadn't known better, he'd have thought that Sn...Severus sounded a little nervous. But of course that was impossible.

Harry just stared at the box for a moment in stunned silence. It was covered in shiny scarlet paper and there was a big golden bow on top.

Finally he looked back up at Severus. "This is for me?"

"It is your birthday, is it not?" Severus indicated the box. "Go ahead and open it."

Harry hesitated for a couple seconds. Then he grinned and pulled off the bow, slit the wrapping paper and opened his gift. Inside the box were a brand new pair of trainers. Harry stared at them.

"That is not your only present. I realise that shoes are not a particularly exciting gift, but the ones you've been wearing are quite scuffed and I thought..." Severus began, speaking rather quickly for him.

"They're brilliant!" Harry interrupted him without even realising what he was doing. A wide grin spread across his face. "Thank you. I was just surprised. I never got anything before except for..."

Abruptly Harry stopped and busied himself taking the new trainers out of their box and examining them. He hadn't meant to say that last part.

"Except for what?" Severus asked in a low voice.

Harry considered not answering. He didn't want to answer. Sn...Severus had said yesterday that they should start over, but Harry still wasn't sure he could trust the man with his deepest secrets. He was really beginning to want to, but he just couldn't help worrying that something could go wrong.

The professor had seemed like a completely different person these past few weeks. The man at Prince Hall was someone Harry thought he could learn to like.

But the professor he'd always known at Hogwarts had been malicious and vindictive. Snape had kept Harry safe from physical harm, but had relished every opportunity to mock and humiliate him.

Harry wanted to do as Sn...Severus had said and start over. But how could he when he didn't know which Snape was the real one? What if Harry told him his weaknesses and confided his secrets? What if Harry told him that the only gifts he'd ever received before were from Hagrid, Ron, and Hermione? What if Harry told him about the Dursleys?

What if Harry told him everything, and then in September Snape ripped him apart and told all Harry's secrets to the school?

Harry shook his head as he stared at the trainers with unseeing eyes. No, he couldn't face that. It was best to remember to keep his guard up. He'd be polite. He might even let himself like Sn...Severus a bit as long as the professor was being this mysterious new self. But he couldn't take a chance on letting the professor into his heart.

Even if he wanted to.

Harry swallowed hard and said softly. "Please, sir...Severus. I don't want to talk about it."

There was a silence and then a small sigh. Harry glanced up in time to see Severus' shoulders droop, just for an instant.

But then he straightened and said calmly, "Very well then, Harry. If you're finished, I'll leave you to dress. Call me when you're ready and I'll tell you the plans."

He left and Harry stared after him, wondering if he'd been wrong. Maybe he should have taken a chance and confided in Snape...no, Severus. The professor had seemed almost hurt that Harry had refused. But that couldn't be, could it?

Harry sighed too and pushed those troubling thoughts away. The only thing he wanted to think about now was picking out clothes to wear and wondering about Severus' plans.

He dressed in a plain white T-shirt that had a small orange Chudley Cannons logo on the top left side and jeans. Then he quickly selected socks and tried on the new trainers. They fit perfectly and they were the newest brand from Gladrags, one of the most exclusive clothing shops in the wizarding world. Harry smiled as he tied the laces, but his smile faded as he remembered Severus' disappointment.

Well, maybe Harry could make up for it the rest of the day. He'd thank Severus again and he'd try hard to be really appreciative of whatever activity Severus had planned, even if it was brewing potions. But the professor had said they'd be walking around, and brewing potions didn't require a lot of walking, did it?

Harry hurried to the bathroom to brush his teeth and hair before going out to the hallway to call Severus.

The professor came out of his own bedroom and if he were still disappointed in Harry, he didn't show it. He was carrying two silver flasks and handed one to Harry.

"I thought you might like to get out for a while, and I did plan to buy you some more gifts besides trainers. So, if you like, I've planned for us to take a trip to Diagon Alley," Severus said.

Harry caught his breath. "We could really go to Diagon Alley? You mean it?"

Severus' lips quirked upwards and Harry felt suddenly very glad to see that Severus had apparently decided to forgive him.

"Yes, we can really go to Diagon Alley, and yes, I mean it. Of course we'll need to take precautions. We don't you to be seen wandering about. For that matter, I don't wish to take any chances on running into certain former acquaintances, either. So..." Severus held up his flask. "We shall have to dose ourselves with Polyjuice potion."

He gave Harry a good-natured smirk. "I believe you are already familiar with its purpose."

Harry smiled back. "Yes, si...Severus." Suddenly shy, he added. "But I didn't steal those ingredients from you, I promise."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Mmm, one of your compatriots then."

Harry couldn't deny that but he certainly didn't want to get Hermione into trouble so he just dropped his eyes and didn't say anything.

"Ah, well, we did agree to start over, didn't we? I suppose there's no reason to fret over it at this point. There's enough Polyjuice Potion in each flask to last for five hours. We'll take five swallows now and that will be enough for the first hour."

They tipped their flasks and once again Harry tasted the sickening Polyjuice Potion. An instant later his insides writhed and burned, but fortunately it only lasted for a moment. Then he felt the strange but not uncomfortable feeling of being stretched taller. His hands and feet grew and widened, and then the strange feeling faded away, leaving Harry feeling...if not looking...like himself.

Beside him, Severus had changed too. He was about the same height as he usually was, but stocky and with very fair hair and blue eyes. It was rather disconcerting, standing next to someone who appeared so different and yet knowing that it was really Severus.

"Can I see me?" Harry asked, very curious now about his own changed appearance.

Severus nodded. "It's your day, Harry. We can do what you wish."

So Harry ducked back into his bathroom to find a stranger staring back at him from the oval mirror that hung over the sink. A boy about his own age, but taller and more muscular, with the same blond hair and blue eyes as Severus now wore. To be honest, they looked a lot alike. Anyone seeing them on Diagon Alley would assume they were father and son.

Harry shook his head. What a strange thought...Severus Snape and himself as father and son. He rolled his eyes at himself and went back to join Severus in the hall.

"Do you approve?" The professor asked dryly.

Harry smiled at him. "Well, no one would ever guess it's us."

"I certainly hope not. Now, we'll go to my sitting room and Floo into the Leaky Cauldron. Make sure you keep your flask with you," Severus instructed.

Harry nodded and they went to the fireplace and stepped in. Severus tossed a handful of Floo powder down and called out their destination. The green flames roared harmlessly about them and then Harry and Severus were whirling through space, heading for London and the Leaky Cauldron.

When the Floo brought them to the fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron Snape...Severus stepped out calmly while Harry just barely kept himself from falling. He wasn't sure why but he never had managed to exit the Floo system gracefully. At best, he always stumbled and once or twice he'd even managed to fall flat on his face.

The professor touched his elbow lightly to steady him and Harry looked up and said quietly, "Thank you."

Sn...Severus nodded, and then nodded again at old Tom, the wizened bald little bartender who was the only other person in the large shabby room. Tom was wiping down the high countertop and he never paused in his work as he gave them a cursory glance and a crisp nod in return.

Harry figured he must be used to people coming and going, and of course, he didn't recognise Harry and Severus under their Polyjuice disguises. He would have liked to have gone over and spoken to old Tom, who knew Harry from previous years. But of course he couldn't, so Harry just went with Sn...Severus out the back door and into the small walled courtyard that led into Diagon Alley proper.

They stopped before the back brick wall and Severus pulled his wand from his sleeve. He tapped several bricks in quick succession and they slid apart to form an archway.

Harry smiled. "I couldn't believe it when Hagrid did this the time he brought me to Diagon Alley before first-year."

"Hagrid brought you?" Severus murmured.

"Oh, yes, sir. My aunt and uncle weren't going to let me come to Hogwarts so Hagrid had to come fetch me."

Severus gave him a long considering look. It was funny, Harry reflected, to see that familiar expression on such a different-looking face.

"We knew that Hagrid had to be sent to deliver your letter, that there was apparently some trouble with it being delivered, but I had assumed...." Severus voice trailed off.

"There wasn't really any trouble with the letter being delivered. It was just that Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon wouldn't open it or let me come," Harry explained. He shrugged. "So Hagrid came. They changed their minds pretty quick."

"Quickly," Severus corrected. He shook his head slightly. "Why didn't your relatives want you to come to Hogwarts?"

"They hate magic. I think they're afraid of it," Harry told him.

Severus looked as if he wanted to continue their discussion, but after a moment he simply gestured for Harry to go through the archway. They stepped through; the arch closed behind them; and they were in the eye-catching wizarding marketplace known as Diagon Alley.

The cobblestone street twisted away out of sight, lined on both sides with quaint shops selling all types of magical merchandise, cafes with small outside tables underneath bright umbrellas, and straightlaced wizarding business offices. The magnificent white marble bank Gringotts towered over the other buildings and Harry glanced over at Sn...Severus to see if they were heading that way. On all his other visits to Diagon Alley, Gringotts had been the first stop.

But Severus shook his head. "I've already withdrawn enough money for today." He eyed Harry. "Is there anywhere in particular you would like to visit?"

Harry hesitated. He thought about suggesting Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Fred and George Weasley's new joke shop that had just opened somewhere on Diagon Alley. It might have been fun just to see Severus' reaction.

But on the other hand, he really wasn't sure if he wanted to see any of the Weasleys yet. Harry felt a pang at that thought. The Weasleys were the closest thing he had to a family and he missed them. He really did. But at the same time, seeing them would hurt. He wasn't even entirely sure why.

But Fred and George wouldn't recognise him now of course. He would be just another customer to them today. Harry didn't know if that would make it harder or easier to see them.

Severus was watching him, waiting for a reply, so Harry finally just shook his head.

"No, sir. Anywhere is fine."

Severus considered. "Well, let's just go to the shops as we come to them then."

He led the way to the first shop, one which sold cauldrons. Harry had a vision of them spending the day in the cauldron shop and the apothecary, buying materials for potions, and he wondered if perhaps he should have suggested some other places after all. But Severus didn't linger overlong.

"Why don't we get you a new cauldron for class next year?" The professor asked as they entered.

"But I might not be in Potions class next year," Harry felt he had to point out. "I don't have my OWL scores yet and..." He hesitated; then lowered his voice. "You only take students with an O. I probably didn't score that high."

Severus glanced about, making sure no one else was paying attention. No one was. There were only a couple other people browsing for cauldrons and they were in the far corner. The proprietor of the store was nowhere in sight.

Severus slipped his wand from his sleeve and quickly waved it in a small circle about them. "There. That was a little spell called Muffliato. Now no one can overhear our conversations. We can talk with others, but they can't listen in when we're talking with one another."

"Really?" Harry was impressed. "That's amazing. Could you teach it to me?"

"I don't know. I can just imagine the ways you and your companions would put it to use," Severus responded dryly.

Then, as Harry's face fell, he added, "Perhaps, if you promise not to use it to talk in class. As for your OWL scores, I might agree to take students with an E this year and you surely scored that well."

Harry was silent for a moment, thinking over Severus' comments. The Potions professor never had taken students with only an E score before. Professor McGonagall had told him that. So why would he change his policy now? And that he believed that Harry would have at least an E...was that a compliment? Because he'd always denounced Harry's potion-making skills before. Harry would have expected Sn...Severus to say that he would be lucky to scrape by with a passing score.

"Really?" He asked again.

Severus nodded. "Albus has been after me for years, actually. All the other professors accept NEWT students with a score of E and he feels that I am a bit unreasonable. I've been thinking that I just might allow him to persuade me this year. Now, let's select a cauldron."

A short while later they were back on the sunlit street, the proud owners of two new cauldrons...a standard pewter one for Harry and a self-stirring one for Severus. Harry looked about as the professor quickly cast a feather-light charm and a shrinking spell on their purchases and tucked them into his pocket.

He normally came to Diagon Alley at the end of August, when everyone was buying supplies for the upcoming school year, and it was more crowded then that it was today. But there were still quite a few people strolling along. Harry smiled as he watched an older couple, holding hands even while they bickered over which shop to visit next and whether the price of an enchanted tea set was too high. He found himself thinking of Ron and Hermione for some reason, but then forgot about the older couple when Severus finished his charms and they began walking along the street again.

They went into Eeylops Owl Emporium next because Harry remembered he was almost out of owl-treats for Hedwig. As they were waiting to pay he looked around at the variety of owls for sale...great tawny owls, friendly barn owls, screech owls, grey and brown owls of all sizes. But there were no other snowy owls, Harry noted.

"Hagrid bought Hedwig here, for my birthday present when I was eleven," Harry said suddenly. "That was the first time anyone ever gave me a present. Except for when my parents were still alive, I guess."

Severus started to say something, but then they were at the counter and he had to pay the clerk for the owl-treats. Harry was glad for the respite. He hadn't really meant to tell Severus that, but he'd spoken before he'd thought. As soon as they left Eeylops, he spoke up quickly in an effort to distract the professor.

"Sir, could we go by Scribbulus Everchanging Inks, too? I need some more ink and parchment."

Harry wasn't sure if Severus really was distracted or if he simply decided not to pursue the subject of Harry's past birthdays, but the professor just nodded and said, "If you'd like, Harry, and it's ‘Severus', not ‘sir' right now."

"Yes, sir...Severus, I mean. I just wasn't sure if we should be using our names out here," Harry replied.

"We're under the Muffliato spell, remember? Until I lift it, no one can overhear us," Severus explained.

They walked past Terrortours and the Daily Prophet offices to the ink shop, and then after Harry had purchased a pack of parchment and several ink bottles, and after they'd sipped another dose of Polyjuice Potion from their flasks, Severus led the way to Gladrags Wizardwear.

Harry started to protest, "But sir, you already gave me new trainers. I don't really need anything else."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Forgive me, Harry, but you do. You happen to have one nice shirt and pair of trousers for warm weather. I suppose your blue jeans are in decent enough condition, but you do need more than two pairs. Other than that, all you have is a few T-shirts and a Quidditch jersey. To be honest, I was quite surprised when I realised how sparse your wardrobe is, child."

Harry flushed and looked away. But then a gentle hand settled on his shoulder and Severus said softly, "In the past, you may not have had anyone who cared if you were properly attired, but now you do. I would like to buy you some new things, Harry. Please allow me to."

Harry hesitated; then nodded. "Thank you, sir...Severus."

So they went inside the Gladrags shop, a medium-sized brick building with white stone trim and large glass windows on either side of the ornate wooden door displaying both wizarding robes and Muggle-style clothing.

Once inside Harry couldn't help looking about with interest. They'd stepped into a very large airy room, filled with clothes for women and girls...robes, dresses, lacy blouses and skirts, colourful tops and calf-length trousers. A wide staircase on their left led to another room upstairs where Harry thought he glimpsed the clothes for men and boys. Through an open doorway in the back he could see another room lined with sandals, boots, and shoes of all types.

He'd never been inside Gladrags, which was prestigious and accordingly, very expensive. He himself could have afforded it in the past, but he just wasn't accustomed to spending a lot of money on clothes for himself. There had never seemed to be any point in it, and he'd always had a vague feeling that he needed to save the money for more important things later when he was grown.

But he couldn't deny that he felt a small warm glow inside at the knowledge that Severus wanted to buy him some nice things. No one ever had before, and it felt...good to know that someone cared.

One of the clerks, a young woman with a long face and dark hair piled loosely on top of her head and wearing conservative blue robes, came hurrying from the back room to greet them.

"Good morning, sirs. May I help you?"

Severus inclined his head slightly. "Yes, thank you. We'd like to look for clothes in the young men's department."

"Upstairs, on the right side of the room," the clerk directed them.

As soon as they'd gone upstairs and headed towards the right of another spacious room, another clerk came to assist them...this one a young man in a crimson Henley shirt and grey trousers, but Severus quickly dismissed him and they were left alone.

There were some wizarding robes here, but there were also plenty of Muggle-style shirts, trousers, and jeans. They spent the next hour picking out clothes...polo shirts of all colours, in solids and stripes, blue jeans, a second pair of khaki trousers and a pair of grey trousers, as well as new pyjamas, socks, and underwear.

Although he still felt that warm feeling inside, Harry couldn't help also being a bit embarrassed at the large pile of clothing that Severus seemed prepared to buy for him.

"But, sir...Severus," he protested at one point. "This is going to cost so much money, and I might not even be able to wear them next summer."

But Severus only shook his head. "Gladrags clothes come with a pre-applied altering spell. They'll expand a bit, not a great deal, but usually enough for a growing young person to be able to wear them for a couple seasons. And if you do outgrow them by next summer, we can always donate these to charity and buy more for you. Now, you'll also need some new school robes, but I think we'll buy those at Madame Malkin's."

After paying what Harry considered an obscene amount of money for his new wardrobe, Severus realised it was lunchtime so when they left Gladrags Wizardwear, they hunted for a café.

"Is there any particular place you like to eat?" The professor asked as he shrunk the boxes of clothes and he and Harry slipped them into their pockets.

"Anyplace is good," Harry told him. "I like them all."

So they just headed for the nearest café and ate fish and chips at an outside table, Harry sipping a soda while Severus had ice water, protected from the summer sun by the striped umbrella covering their table.

As they were finishing, Harry glanced over at the professor. He felt a little shy about it, but he knew he needed to thank Severus. The professor hadn't had to do anything at all for Harry's birthday and yet he'd made sure that Harry had a good time and had bought him bunches of stuff. It hadn't been the birthday celebration that Harry had imagined last night...but it had been a celebration.

And Severus Snape was the one who'd given it all to him. It was mind-boggling, but maybe, just maybe, he really had changed. Harry wasn't going to rush into anything. He wasn't going to open up and let Severus know all his secrets and weaknesses...not yet, and maybe not ever.

But he did feel more comfortable with Severus than he had ever thought possible.

Harry cautiously reached over to touch Severus' arm, just for a second, before quickly withdrawing his hand. "Thank you, sir...Severus, for my new clothes and trainers, and everything."

Severus gazed at his arm, where Harry had touched him for an instant before looking up. For a second Harry was afraid he was angry, but when the professor turned to him, there was something besides anger shimmering in his black eyes. Harry wasn't sure exactly what the emotion was, but it wasn't anger.

"You're welcome," Severus said softly.

"And thank you for bringing me here. It's been a fun birthday."

Severus arched an eyebrow. "Well, it's not over yet. We have one more dose of Polyjuice. Let's visit Madame Malkin's and get those school robes, and then there's one more thing I think you might like."

So they took the last sips of Polyjuice while Harry struggled not to grimace at the taste. He'd discovered that once you had already been transformed by Polyjuice potion that your body didn't have to go through the burning and stretching process again, but the potion still tasted horrible.

Then they walked down the street until they reached Madame Malkin's shop. A glittering gold sign proclaimed Madame Malkin's Robes For All Occasions over the narrow doorway and the small, squat Madame Malkin herself greeted them when they came inside.

"School robes already, dear? Well, there's no sense in waiting til the last minute, I suppose, is there? Just hold on a second, and I'll bring a set out here so we can see how they'll fit."

She bustled off to a back room and Harry leaned over and whispered to Severus. "But sir, they won't fit me, will they? I'm not really this tall or wide."

"Altering spells, Harry," Severus replied in a low tone. "School robes don't normally come with them pre-applied, but the spells are quite simple. We can easily adjust the robes once we're back home."

Forty minutes later Harry had three new sets of black school robes and a new winter cloak which was also plain black, but was finely made and warm and had engraved silver fastenings.

"We'll have to hurry, but there is one more stop I'd like to make before we leave," Severus said as they hurried out of Madame Malkin's and he steered Harry to a shop across the street.

It was Hermione's favourite store, the bookshop Flourish and Blotts. Harry wondered if Severus were planning to buy his textbooks as well. They couldn't get everything...Harry wouldn't know for certain all the classes he would take until he'd received his OWL scores, but he supposed they could buy books for a few classes that he was pretty sure he'd qualified for.

But when they entered the shop, Severus ignored the textbook section and headed straight for the assistant manager at the front of the store. He pulled a receipt from his shirt pocket and handed it to the young man.

"I prepaid for this book last week. The manager assured me he would hold it for me."

The assistant manager studied the receipt and nodded. "Yes, sir. Just a moment, please."

He went behind the counter and then came back, carrying a thick blue leather-bound book. He handed it to Severus who led Harry over to a secluded corner and then handed the book to him.

"Happy birthday."

Harry shook his head. "But you've already given me so much...it's too..."

Severus' lips quirked in his funny way of smiling. "I'm glad you like the clothes and the trainers, but they are necessary items. This gift is something for you to enjoy."

Harry started to protest more. It was rude, he knew, and he didn't want to be rude, but Severus really had done too much for him. But then he happened to glance down at the book and saw the title.

Secrets of Seeking by Josef Wronski.

"Wronski? The Goblins' Seeker? He invented the Wronski Feint, and the Wronski Dive, and all kinds of moves. He's one of the greatest Seekers ever," Harry breathed. His fingers caressed the book and he reverently opened the cover and turned the pages, catching his breath in wonder.

"Yes, it is both a biography and a training guide. There are diagrams and illustrations to help you learn Wronski's trademark skills." Severus hesitated. "I thought it might come in useful for playing Quidditch next year."

Harry grew absolutely still and stared at Severus with huge shocked eyes. "You'll let me play Quidditch next year? Even against Slytherin?"

"Yes."

For a second, Harry thought he might embarrass them both by either crying or throwing his arms around Severus. In the end, he just smiled tremulously and tried to thank Severus, but the professor seemed embarrassed, too.

"It is time for us to leave. The Polyjuice will wear off soon. Come, Harry."

He opened the door, but just as they stepped outside, there were a series of loud sharp cracking sounds, followed by screams and frightened cries. At first Harry thought there must have been an explosion somewhere, or some other type of accident, and he looked about wildly. From further down the street wizards were either Dis-Apparating, running pell-mell in every direction shoving one another out of the way, or attempting to hide inside various shops.

Harry craned his neck, searching the cause of this crisis, and then he saw. His blood turned to ice and beside him, he heard Severus draw in a strangled breath.

Far down the street, but within eyesight, a dozen wizards in black hooded robes and masks stood behind a taller, pale-skinned figure. He too wore black robes, but there was no hood or mask to hide his face. It was probably impossible considering the distance, but Harry thought he could see the gleaming red eyes and hear the high, cold laugh.

Voldemort and his Death Eaters had come to Diagon Alley.

The first coherent thought that crossed Harry's mind when he saw the ominous dark figures in the distance, was that Voldemort had come for him. But an instant later he realised that it just couldn't be. There was simply no way that Voldemort would have known that Harry was going to be here at Diagon Alley today. Harry himself hadn't even known it until that morning. No, Voldemort's appearance had to be a coincidence.

But no matter, he was there now and Harry had no idea what to do. His first impulse was to run to meet Voldemort and destroy him. He really, really wanted to do that. Then Voldemort would be gone. He would never hurt or kill anyone again.

And then Harry could be free...free from Voldemort, free to go and be with his family, and free from the slavery spell.

But how could he destroy Voldemort now? He wasn't ready. He'd only had one real dueling lesson and he'd barely beaten the dummy. Voldemort was the most powerful dark wizard in over a century, not to mention that he was surrounded by a dozen Death Eaters.

Harry wouldn't stand a chance against him.

All these thoughts flitted through his mind in seconds. Then beside him, Severus hissed in his ear. "We've got to get out of here."

The professor grabbed Harry's arm and started to twist around, but then out of the corner of his eye Harry caught a glimpse of a small child, a little dark-haired boy no more than two years old, standing lost in the middle of the street and weeping piteously as panicked wizards ran around him. There was no sign of his parents or of anyone else searching for him, and the Death Eaters were coming.

"Wait," Harry told Severus and broke away, sprinting into the street and sweeping the crying child into his arms.

He turned and started to race back to Severus, but just then a great wave of people rushed by, slowing him and making it difficult to get back to Flourish and Blotts. Harry tried to push his way through and had taken a couple of steps, but he was also being swept along with the crowd and before he could stop it, he and the child were well past the bookstore.

Then jets of red, purple, and green light whizzed by as Voldemort and his followers drew closer. Harry managed to take one more step back towards Severus and safety before a flash of green flew in front of him, missing him by a hairs-breadth. Abruptly Harry spun around and ran in the opposite direction, to the other side of the street.

He looked around frantically for Severus and saw him in the distance. For once, the professor's calm façade had cracked and he looked both frightened and angry as he jerked his head back and forth, searching for Harry. He held up his wand and an instant later three silver creatures, tall and four-legged, sprang from its tip and then vanished.

Harry's stomach clenched as he suddenly realised that he was seeing Severus...not the blond stocky man anymore. The Polyjuice Potion had worn off, which meant that his own disguise must have faded away, too.

He looked down at the child in his arms, who was still crying and clinging to him as if to a lifeline. "You can't stay with me," Harry muttered. He ran into the nearest shop, the apothecary where some people were trying to hide behind big barrels lined up on the floor. He saw an old woman kneeling behind the nearest one and managed to pry the little boy away from himself.

"Take him!" Harry thrust the child at her and then ran back outside.

He didn't see Voldemort, which was worrying, but the hooded Death Eaters were quite close, only a couple shops' lengths away. Many of the people in Diagon Alley were gone now. Most had run off, Apparated to safety, or were presumably hiding inside. Quite a few of the shops were burning...the Death Eaters must have set them on fire and the acrid smell of smoke and the crackle of flames filled the air along with shouts, cries, and taunting laughter. Harry could only hope there were no people trapped inside the burning buildings.

But though most had gone, there were a few brave souls fighting back. Harry saw the female clerk from Gladrags dueling. There was a young couple who had eaten at the same café for lunch taking on a huge Death Eater whose hood had slipped, revealing a shock of curly blond hair. Even old Mr. Ollivander was standing in the doorway of his shop and firing off hexes whenever he got a clear shot.

And then Harry saw two familiar redheads in the middle of the street, battling four of Voldemort's followers.

"Fred, George," he breathed, not daring to call out for fear of distracting them. He hesitated. A voice inside his head was telling him that he really should be trying to find Severus. The professor was going to be furious with him already.

But though the Weasley twins were talented, they were outnumbered and when Harry saw George get hit in the face with a curse and collapse to the ground, bleeding profusely, he didn't even think about the dangers of letting the Death Eaters see him...he just ran to help.

"Incarcerous!" He screamed, pointing his wand at the Death Eater who was closest to the fallen George. Thick ropes shot from the end and wrapped themselves tightly around the black-robed figure, pinning his arms to his side.

"Harry?" Fred couldn't help but pause and give him an incredulous stare.

Another Death Eater took advantage of his distraction. "Crucio!"

But Harry was ready. "Protego!" He shrieked wildly and the Shield flew up just in time to protect Fred.

"Thanks," Fred bit out, but there was no time for chatting. He and Harry stood back to back, trying to protect George and themselves from the Death Eaters. Spells flew back and forth as they dueled, but finally Fred managed to stun two of the Death Eaters and Harry disarmed the last one who ran off before he could be captured.

They immediately crouched by George's side, checking to see where exactly the blood was coming from.

It's his ear," Fred muttered, yanking his shirt off and pressing it hard against the side of his twin's head. Before he did, though, Harry saw that George's right ear was gone, leaving only a bloody hole where it should have been.

"Let's see if we can move him." Fred stuck his shirt in place with a charm so it could continue to staunch the flow of blood, and then he gently lifted his brother under his arms while Harry grabbed George's legs under his knees. Together they managed to get him off the road and over to relative safety behind a street vendor's cart.

"Is he going to be all right?" Harry asked anxiously as they knelt at George's side.

Fred checked the wound and nodded. "I think so. It looks like the bleeding's stopped. I don't think his ear can be replaced, though, not when it's been cursed off."

Fred pressed his hands to his face and was quiet for a moment. Harry hesitantly placed a hand on his shoulder. It was so unusual to see one of the twins serious and upset that he almost wasn't sure what to do. He tried to think of something he could say, but nothing came to him, so he just kept his hand on Fred's shoulder and hoped his sympathy and concern would get through.

After a moment Fred seemed to pull himself together. He took a deep breath and looked up. "Well, he's alive and it could be worse. So Harry, what in Merlin's name are you doing here? Why aren't you at Privet Drive?"

Now Harry really didn't know what to say. "Um, well, it's a long story and I can't really explain now...I'm supposed to be looking for...."

"Harry Potter! I knew it was you! Master!" A wild, delighted voice interrupted them.

Harry spun around to see the face that he perhaps hated most in the world...a once-beautiful pale face with heavy-lidded dark eyes and a mass of long tangled black hair framing it. Bellatrix Lestrange.

He dodged the curse that shot from her wand just in time and it hit the ground instead, pulverising the cobblestones into a pile of gravelly rubble.

"Incarcerous!" Fred bellowed, but this time it was Bellatrix who twisted out of the way in time.

Before she could shoot any more curses at close range, or before Voldemort was drawn over by her call, Harry pushed the street vendor's cart into her and ran as fast as he could. He didn't know where he was going, just that he needed to lead her away from Fred and George and that somehow he had to find Severus.

He ran, making sure to leap to the right and left in an unpredictable pattern so she wouldn't be able to hit him with anything from behind. He heard Fred yelling after him, but couldn't stop. As he dashed down the street, Harry realised that at some point other wizards had arrived...Kingsley Shacklebolt, Mad-Eye Moody, Tonks...they were all there, fighting. Severus had sent his Patronuses to call the Order of the Phoenix.

Where was Dumbledore? Surely he would be here, too. But Harry didn't have time to search for him. He was too busy trying to avoid Bellatrix Lestrange. He could hear her alternately cursing him and calling for her master. Harry ran past some more dueling wizards and heard another familiar voice.

"Potter? What are you doing..." It was Professor McGonagall, who was fighting alongside some of the other Hogwarts' professors. Harry glimpsed Flitwick and Sprout as he raced by, but he didn't stop. He needed to find Severus. The voice in his head was quite insistent. Finding Severus was the most important thing right now.

Behind him he heard Bellatrix shriek and the professors calling out. Hoping against hope that they'd managed to capture her, or at least delay her, Harry sprinted by a small side alley and then slid to an abrupt stop as his mind registered the horrifying sight he'd glimpsed from the corner of his eye. He turned and ran back.

Voldemort was in the alley, standing over a crumpled black heap on the ground.

"Did you really think you would get away with betraying me, Severus?" He asked in a silky malicious voice. "Surely you knew I would find out some day? And what have you given your life for? A weak little boy who's going to die as well? Because Harry Potter will die, make no mistake about that. I will crush him and then no one will stand in my way. So tell me, Severus, how does it feel to know you've thrown your life away for nothing?"

There was no response from the figure on the ground and for a terrifying second, Harry thought he was dead. But then Voldemort cast the cruciatus curse and Severus moaned as his limbs jerked and quivered.

Harry's heart beat wildly and his breath caught in his throat. He still didn't have a chance against Voldemort, but he also didn't have a choice anymore. He swallowed hard and hoped that if he died, he could at least manage to defeat Voldemort, too.

"Leave him alone!" Harry shouted. "It's me you want, not him!"

Voldemort froze. Then he stopped the Unforgivable and turned to face Harry. An evil smile slowly spread across his snake-like face and his scarlet eyes gleamed in triumph. "Why, Harry, it's so good of you to join the party," he purred. "It saves me the bother of having to hunt you down."

He raised his wand, but Harry was a fraction quicker.

"Avada Kedrava!" Green light shot from Voldemort's wand.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry screamed at the same instant, concentrating with all his might on his will to defeat the evil being in front of him.

The two spells intercepted with a crack that seemed to shake the ground. A bright golden light flared and when it faded, Voldemort was lying on the ground.

Harry just gazed at him, completely shocked. Surely it couldn't be? Surely he hadn't won? Had he? Voldemort couldn't really be dead, could he?

Suddenly Dumbledore was there, his wand in his hand and his blue eyes blazing. He glanced at Harry, who was standing still as a statue but was unharmed, and at Severus who was slowly sitting up, obviously in pain but alive, and then went past them to where Voldemort was lying.

He knelt beside the dark wizard's body and examined it carefully before looking back up. Dumbledore's gaze traveled between Severus and Harry, both of whom were watching him intently, hardly daring to breathe.

"Voldemort is dead."

"Dead," Severus repeated in a weak, scratchy tone. He looked over at Harry in wonder.

Harry didn't move. He should be happy. He would be happy, as soon as he could make himself believe it. But right now he was just too shocked to feel much of anything. The past hour seemed like a dream...or a nightmare actually. But if Voldemort were dead, maybe this nightmare could have a happy ending.

"NOOO!"

Harry turned to see Bellatrix Lestrange standing a short distance away. She stared at him in crazed fury and her face twisted. She pointed her wand at him and screamed again.

"Sectumsempra!"

Harry felt sharp pain explode all over his body. There was blood everywhere and he was falling.

Then everything went black.

Severus had often thought that he must have been specially cursed at birth, perhaps by some malevolent faery as in an old-fashioned Muggle children's tale, to have everything in his life turn to dust and ruin. Sometimes he had thought it with wry irony; other times with bitter anger. But never had he experienced it with the utter terror that he felt when Harry collapsed before him, blood spurting from the vicious sectumsempra curse that Bellatrix Lestrange had flung at him.

The day had started out so well. He'd wanted to do something special for Harry's birthday, give the boy a chance to have fun and forget about his troubles for a while. He'd remembered that Norie had suggested taking Harry to Diagon Alley several weeks ago right after Harry had come to Prince Hall, but that he'd refused to do so at the time.

The more Severus had thought about it, the more a visit to Diagon Alley had seemed like the perfect way to spend the day. He'd thought that Harry would probably enjoy getting away from Prince Hall for a time. After all, he hadn't left the estate for the whole month of July except for the time he'd spent in the Hogwarts' infirmary and that certainly hadn't been any fun for him. It would give Severus a chance to add to Harry's wardrobe, as he'd been planning to do ever since he'd realised how few clothes the boy actually owned (Severus couldn't imagine why in the world a boy with Harry's wealth would own only a handful of outfits).

And once he'd had the idea to give Harry the Wronski book, going to Diagon Alley had seemed like an even better plan. The book would be something that Harry would enjoy, and maybe it could help him see that Severus truly regretted their past hostility and was trying to make amends.

The trip had seemed safe enough, with Polyjuice Potion to disguise them, and at first everything had gone smoothly...

until Voldemort and his Death Eaters had shown up and everything had gone to hell.

Somehow he'd lost Harry. The foolish child had taken off to rescue that baby whose idiot parents had vanished...never mind that Severus would have felt a strong urge to save the little boy too, if he'd seen him in time. Now, whether or not Severus would have acted upon the impulse he didn't know. If it had been only his own life at stake, he would have risked it. But his primary responsibility was to protect Harry and if that concern came into conflict with others, no matter how noble....

Well, Severus didn't have time to waste thinking about ‘might-have-beens' anyway.

He'd managed to be sensible long enough to send his Patronuses to alert the Order, and then he'd begun searching frantically for Harry. When Severus had noticed that the Polyjuice Potion had worn off, he'd been even more desperate. If Voldemort spotted Harry, it would be a tragedy.

But Voldemort had spotted him instead.

Severus hadn't even seen the Dark Lord. He'd been near that small side alley and the next thing he knew he'd been lying on the ground, writhing in agony. White-hot fire coursed through his bones as Voldemort laughed and taunted him and cast the cruciatus spell on him again and again. Severus hadn't even had a chance to draw his wand. He honestly had no idea how long Voldemort had tortured him with the cruciatus curse. It had seemed like forever, but time was different when you were suffering, Severus knew. It might have only been a short while before Harry had suddenly appeared.

Severus had wanted to scream at him to get away. At least while Voldemort had been tormenting him, he'd known that Harry was safe from the dark wizard. In the back of his mind, he'd hoped that Albus or one of the others had found Harry and gotten him to safety. It had been Severus' only comfort and he'd thought that even if he died, it would be worthwhile if his death distracted Voldemort long enough for Harry to escape.

But then Harry was there, trying to save him. The foolish boy! He wasn't ready to face Voldemort! He was just barely sixteen. He didn't know enough yet. He hadn't learned all the spells. He hadn't mastered dueling. He hadn't...

But then Harry had done it.

Somehow, someway, Harry had done the impossible and defeated Voldemort.

Severus managed to pull himself to a sitting position, almost forgetting the agony in his bones as he stared at Harry in wonder. How...? How could Harry possibly be standing there, alive and well, and Voldemort be crumpled on the ground?

But was he really dead? Severus started to drag himself over to check but before he could move, Albus was there, a tall imposing figure in golden robes and his eyes bright with a fierce light. This was not the kindly, venerable headmaster of Hogwarts. This was a dangerous warrior.

With his wand held at the ready, Albus had strode over and knelt beside Voldemort to examine him. After a long moment, he had looked up and pronounced the dark wizard's death.

Severus had scarcely been able to believe it and Harry had looked no less stunned. But before any of them could say or do anything else, there had come a terrible scream from behind them and then Bellatrix Lestrange had cast the sectumsempra curse.

The next moment or two seemed to last an eternity. Severus would never forget the horrifying sight of Harry sinking to his knees, blood spurting wildly from his face and chest. Harry's wand slipped from his fingers as he gazed in disbelief at the blood soaking through his white T-shirt. He looked over at Severus and for a crazy instant Severus thought he saw peace and acceptance in Harry's eyes before they closed and Harry toppled over to lie face-down in an ever-widening crimson pool.

The whole scene was frozen in time and Severus would re-live it in his nightmares for years to come...Harry's small, lifeless form covered in blood, Bellatrix's high-pitched hysterics, himself and Albus helpless to stop it all.

But of course in reality it only took seconds. Then Albus pointed his wand at Bellatrix and even though he didn't utter a word, Severus could feel the incredible wave of magic as it rushed by him. Bellatrix's voice cut off in mid-scream and she fell heavily to the ground. Severus didn't know whether Albus had killed her, and he did not particularly care. Harry was all he could think of.

He was at the boy's side in an instant, his own pain forgotten. Gently he turned Harry over and began waving his wand over the deep wounds. He opened his mouth to begin the sing-song incantation that would close the cuts, but his voice wouldn't work right. Sobs kept rising in his throat and choking off his words.

Severus glimpsed a silver phoenix glide past and then Albus was kneeling on Harry's other side. The older wizard ran through a diagnostic spell and said sharply, "Severus, pull yourself together. Heal him now!"

For Severus was the only one who could do it after all. The sectumsempra curse was his own special creation, a dark spell he had invented and later perfected during those black years in his youth when he had served Voldemort. Only a handful of other Death Eaters had learned it and they had rarely used it. It had been Severus' trademark. Since it was so uncommon, he had never had any occasion to teach anyone else the healing spell he'd also developed specifically for the sectumsempra curse.

Which meant he was the only one who could save Harry now.

But he couldn't make it through the incantation without breaking down, and his hand was shaking so, the wand movements probably weren't working properly either.

Suddenly Poppy was there. She took in the situation at a glance and knelt beside Severus on the blood-soaked ground. She went through her own diagnostic spell and gasped.

"We're losing him! What spell is it?"

"Sectumsempra," Albus told her tersely.

"What? I've never heard..." But Poppy abruptly broke off and began another spell of her own, her voice taut with fear.

Severus recognised it as a resuscitation spell, one used to try to coax a patient's heart into beating once it had stopped. He'd never felt such terror, not when he was a child and had known he was about to beaten within an inch of his life, not during the years of spying when he'd gone to every Death Eater meeting wondering beneath the layers of Occlumency if that night was the one that Voldemort had discovered his treachery, not even when he'd realised the depth of his sins in following the dark wizard and had gone to throw himself on Albus Dumbledore's mercy.

None of that compared to his fear now.

Severus felt as if his own heartbeat had ceased, but then a voice in his head screamed that he was not going to lose Harry. It wasn't going to end this way.

It required every last bit of Severus' iron will and self-control, and he never did really know how he managed it in the end, but somehow he forced his voice and his hand to steady. He chanted the healing spell in a fierce tone and traced over Harry's wounds with sure strokes, not leaving the magic any choice but to heal the boy he loved.

He went through the spell three times, to make sure the wounds were well and truly closed, and only when he'd finished the third round, did he realize that Poppy was shaking his arm and speaking softly.

"We did it, Severus. He's come back to us. Let me give him some blood-replenisher."

Severus took Harry in his arms, cradling him as Poppy pulled a vial of dark red liquid from her brown robes and held it to Harry's lips. Then she went through another spell and nodded.

"Well, he's still in very guarded condition, but I think he's stable enough to move. We need to get him to St. Mungo's."

Albus frowned slightly as he considered. "Apparition or portkey would be slightly quicker, but perhaps more stressful for his body. Flooing would probably be the easiest on him." He looked about and then nodded at a shop across the street. "I believe there's a connection to the Floo system in that one."

He reached for Harry but Severus found that he didn't want to let go, even to let Albus take Harry.

"Severus, you need medical attention yourself," Albus said softly. "Let me take Harry now. You won't lose him. I promise."

Severus hated to admit it, even to himself, but now that his adrenaline was fading, he could feel the lingering pain and the weakness that were aftereffects of the cruciatus curse, and he knew Albus was right. So he reluctantly let his mentor ease Harry from his arms. He felt a jolt inside, almost a physical pain in itself, when Albus slipped the child away from him. He wanted to hold Harry. No, he needed to hold Harry.

But Harry needed to go to St. Mungo's, so Severus just took a shaky breath and tried to stand. He stumbled and almost fell...he must be even weaker from the cruciatus aftereffects than he'd realised...but Poppy caught his arm and steadied him.

For a fleeting moment, Severus remembered doing the same thing with Harry only that morning when they'd stepped out of the Floo in the Leaky Cauldron. It brought a lump to his throat, but then Poppy summoned Harry's wand and his glasses which had also fallen off at some point in the past few minutes, and then she was helping him across the street behind Albus and Harry. Most of the fighting had stopped by now, and though people were rushing about, they were all in the distance and no one interfered with them.

"Bellatrix?" Poppy said quietly as they started to leave.

"She'll be unconscious for the foreseeable future," Albus threw over his shoulder. "And Aurors should be arriving on the scene any moment. I told my Patronus to find someone after it had located you. Nonetheless, she doesn't really matter at the moment. Getting medical care for Harry and Severus is the most important thing."

They went inside the shop...it sold Quidditch supplies, Severus realised dimly, and made their way over to the fireplace. Thankfully, there was a jar of Floo powder on the mantel for there was no one around to ask. Moments later they stepped into the lobby of St. Mungo's Hospital.

It was obvious that the Healers were responding to the battle at Diagon Alley. The rickety wooden chairs that normally sat in rows had been pushed to the sides of the room, and the lobby had become a sort of emergency care room. Direly wounded patients hovered on waist-high stretchers and Healers in lime-green robes moved quickly tending to them, muttering healing spells and advice in low tense voices.

A nurse seemed to be shuttling non-emergency cases off to side rooms. She hurried to them as soon as they entered.

"You're coming from Diagon Alley?" She took in the four of them, all with various amounts of blood spattering their clothes. "Healer Bushby?"

A tall woman with graying blond hair pulled back in a tight knot on the top of her head came rushing over, already waving her wand at them.

"This boy was cursed with the sectumsempra spell, a curse that causes deep cuts and profuse bleeding," Albus explained to her. "We've healed the cuts, I believe, and he's had a dose of blood-replenisher. Professor Snape suffered the cruciatus curse for some time. I'm not sure how long, and then further drained his energy in healing Harry. Poppy and I are uninjured. It's Harry's blood on our clothes."

The Healer nodded. She concentrated her wand on Harry for a long moment; then on Severus. "Neither of you is in immediate danger, though the boy will need to stay here for a day or two. I'm going to send you up to the Fourth Floor, Room 422. A medi-witch will tend to you as soon as possible."

She gave her wand a flick and two empty stretchers appeared before them, side by side. Albus carefully laid Harry on one and Healer Bushby waved her wand over him.

"It's a stasis spell, to make traveling upstairs easier on the patient," she explained. She turned to Severus. "If you'll lie down, too, sir, I can place the spell on you as well."

Severus discovered that he was not injured enough to take kindly to her suggestions. He glowered. "I do not need to lie down, nor do I require some stasis spell. I am perfectly capable of getting upstairs on my own."

Healer Bushby's grey eyes became stern and she suddenly seemed much more forbidding. "You're injured, sir, and I don't have time to argue. If you're uncooperative, I will be forced to place you under a sleeping spell. Now, lie down."

He opened his mouth, outraged at her audacity, but Albus interrupted. "Severus, we're wasting time. We need to get Harry upstairs."

Severus looked at Harry, still covered in blood, his skin an unnatural pallor, and acquiesced without another word. He eased himself onto the stretcher, ignoring both his pride and the aching in his bones and lay down. He didn't even protest when Healer Bushby put him under the stasis spell and he lost consciousness.

He must have woken up again soon though, because Albus, Poppy, and a St. Mungo's medi-witch were just settling Harry into bed in one of the hospital wards when he woke up. They had cleaned the blood away and Harry was wearing one of the light blue hospital gowns now.

Even though they'd all said Harry was out of danger, Severus still watched anxiously as they tucked him in and the medi-witch gave him another vial of blood-replenisher.

"Is...is he all right?" Severus asked.

Albus, Poppy, and the medi-witch all looked over at him. The medi-witch smiled and nodded as she left Harry and came over to him.

"Yes, Mr. Potter will be fine. He is very weak, understandably since he lost so much blood and there may be some internal damage. Those cuts from...what was that curse? Sectumsempra?...went so deeply. I gave him some more blood-replenisher now to boost his blood level back up within safety range, and I've given him some tissue restoration potion as well...."

Tissue restoration potion again. Harry would love that, wouldn't he? He just got finished taking the first batch. Severus couldn't help but think wryly to himself.

"We're going to keep him overnight at least and under sedation. Tomorrow we'll decide if he's ready to go home. Now, Professor Snape, let's get you seen to."

Despite Severus' protests, he found himself bundled into another bed beside Harry's, dosed with several potions, and his own clothes changed into pajamas (he'd threatened the medi-witch with bodily harm if she put him in one of those hospital gowns).

Then she was finally gone. Severus looked at Albus and Poppy. "She recognised Harry."

Albus nodded. "Yes, but perhaps it's just as well. Everyone, including the Ministry is soon going to find out that Harry did indeed defeat Voldemort this afternoon. I'm sure the news is already spreading like wildfire. It's only a matter of time before the Ministry and the newspaper reporters begin swarming around."

Severus scowled. "Harry will hate that."

"I know," Albus agreed. "But we have perhaps bought ourselves a little time before the inevitable deluge. St. Mungo's will keep his status here secret, as all patient information is classified, and we can tell people that he was injured and needs to recover in peace and quiet."

Severus sighed. "I wish we could just avoid all the publicity altogether."

"We will try to as much as possible," Albus agreed. He was quiet a moment. "I do think we're going to have to allow the Weasleys to see Harry, though."

Severus frowned. "The Weasleys?"

It was Poppy who answered. "Yes, the Weasley twins were involved in the fighting, too, and apparently Harry joined them briefly so they know he was there. I had just finished treating one of the boys when Albus' patronus found me."

He should have known, Severus thought with a sigh. And if the Weasley twins knew Harry had been at Diagon Alley, then the entire clan would soon know. He thought about Poppy's words and frowned slightly. He'd never been overly fond of the Weasley twins, but still he didn't want them injured.

"What happened to him? The Weasley boy? Is he all right?"

Poppy nodded. "George Weasley lost his right ear and was suffering from blood loss and shock, but he'll recover."

Severus tried to nod, but found that he couldn't hold back a yawn and that his eyelids were growing heavy.

"Oh, forgive us, Severus. You need to rest," Poppy moved towards him, and Severus had the horrifying thought that perhaps she was going to tuck him in. He tried to glare at her, but it was difficult when he was so tired.

The last thing he heard was Albus saying, "Don't worry, Severus. We'll stay here with you and Harry. Just rest now."

He closed his eyes and fell asleep.

***

Severus wasn't sure what time it was when he woke but he did know at once that there people in the room, and not only Albus and Poppy. No, there were several others there besides. Almost at once Severus recognised the voices...Arthur Weasley and his two youngest children.

The Weasleys must have arrived only a short time ago because they were all asking questions about Harry's well-being. Severus was surprised and touched when they asked about him as well. The concern in their voices actually seemed genuine.

He listened as Albus reassured them and then they fell quiet. Severus considered opening his eyes and saying something, but then decided to wait and see what all they said while thinking he was unconscious.

After a few minutes Arthur Weasley resumed what must have been an earlier discussion.

"But Albus, I don't understand why Harry couldn't come to us this summer, if you'd decided to let him leave Privet Drive," he said in a quiet tone. "Surely after everything he went through at the end of term, what with losing Sirius and all, Harry needed to be with people who would be supportive and caring."

Severus felt a rush of indignation. He almost sat up and demanded why Arthur Weasley thought his family were the only ones who could care for Harry, but at the last instant he managed to restrain himself.

"You know Harry is always welcome at our house. In fact, we've wanted to adopt him for years."

Well, that did come as a surprise to Severus. He felt a sharp pang at the thought of Harry belonging to the Weasleys, but then consoled himself with the knowledge that that could never happen now. Because of the slavery spell, Harry had to live with him.

A childish voice in the back of his mind whispered, He's mine, Weasleys!

"I've already explained, Arthur." Albus' voice was very low. "Of course, I know that you're fond of Harry, but Severus was working with Harry, giving him extra training in Defense, to help prepare him for the confrontation with Voldemort."

"Sir, you mean you knew this would happen today?" That was the youngest Weasley boy, his voice incredulous, and considerably louder than either of the men's.

"Shh, Ron, you'll wake them and they need to rest," Arthur reproved.

At the same time Albus said, "No, of course not, Mr. Weasley. I was as shocked as anyone when Severus' patronus came to alert me. I just meant that considering Voldemort's preoccupation with Harry, another confrontation at some point in time seemed inevitable. I did not expect it to happen so soon, though."

"But why didn't Harry tell us?" Ron Weasley sounded puzzled and hurt. "He let on like he was still with the Dursleys."

"I forbid him to mention it, Mr. Weasley," Albus said in a voice that brooked no arguments.

There was another brief silence. Young Mr. Weasley must have still looked disgruntled because the Weasley girl said softly, "Well, I guess we can understand why Harry was so angry with us last summer, when we didn't tell him about being at Grimmauld Place or anything."

"Yeah, I guess so," the Weasley boy agreed slowly. He sighed then, sounding more worried. "Are you sure Harry's going to be all right, sir? He looks so, so..."

"He'll be fine," Albus said gently. "It was a close call, but he and Severus both will make a full recovery. Harry looks poorly now because he's lost so much blood, but a few more doses of replenishing potion and he should be fine."

"Well, Harry can come with us now, can't he, sir?" Ginny Weasley asked. "I mean, there's no reason for him to have to continue training, so he could come home with us, couldn't he?"

Once again Severus felt a protest rising to his lips. He'd known it would be like this, once the Weasleys were around again. They would want to take Harry from him and Severus couldn't bear that.

But Albus spoke before Severus could give himself away. "No, I'm afraid not, Miss Weasley. Harry will be safer staying with Severus. Prince Hall is under the Fidelius Charm and even though Voldemort is dead, there is still considerable danger."

Both the children began to protest, and Severus thought crossly that Albus should never put up with such impertinence, but Arthur Weasley quieted them.

"You know what happened to the Longbottoms, children," he said gravely. "And that attack happened after Voldemort's first defeat. I think Albus is right. For now, at least Harry needs to be in a safe place."

"But why couldn't we all go stay at Grimmauld Place again?" Ginny Weasley asked. "We'd do it for Harry."

At the same time, her brother said, "But Snape...sorry, Professor Snape hates Harry. He's always been horrible, for no reason. Harry never did anything to him. Did you know that Harry sicks up before every Potions class? And he was always a wreck after coming back from those Occlumency lessons last year. Harry must be miserable. He deserves better than that, sir. He needs to be with us. We could keep him safe."

Albus was firm. "I'm afraid not, children. Harry must stay with Severus. But I can reassure you that it's not as bad as all that. Severus has come to see that he was wrong about Harry and they are getting along much better these days."

Severus didn't have to open his eyes to know the Weasley children were disbelieving. It would have made him angry, if he hadn't been so stricken by Ron Weasley's words. He knew that he'd been unfair and unkind to Harry, but somehow he hadn't thought that the boy had been so affected by it. Harry had always seemed stoic and at times, even defiant.

But he should have realised. Over the past weeks, he'd come to see that Harry was actually very sensitive, and now Severus could imagine how much he must have hurt Harry in the past. Remorse and shame overwhelmed him and for a time he was lost in anguished guilt.

Eventually he realised that the Weasleys were leaving, or at least this group of them was. Albus must have had something to do with persuading them to go, because the children were audibly protesting and Arthur sounded reluctant.

But finally he said, "Well, I suppose we'd better go see if George can leave. Molly and Fred stayed with him. They'll probably want to check on Harry, too, though, before we go."

Severus almost groaned aloud. He wanted to be alone with Harry, without the confounded Weasley clan trying to take over. He continued to feign sleep, not feeling up to talking with anyone now, even Albus.

Arthur Weasley was right. His wife and the twins insisted on stopping by, too, but fortunately they didn't stay long. George was obviously exhausted and a very emotional Molly seemed torn between seeing to him and staying with Harry. But Albus managed to convince her that Harry was in good hands, and finally the Weasleys left.

"If you're all right, Severus, I think I will see if I can find a cup of tea somewhere around here, and perhaps check on Poppy. I sent her off to rest some time ago, but I suspect she's gone downstairs and is helping with the wounded." Albus said and then he left too.

Severus blinked, feeling surprised and grateful at Albus' perception. At last he could have a little time alone with Harry. He eased out of bed and went to sit beside the boy. It was dark outside, and the only light in the room now came from a thin shaft of moonlight that fell through a high window.

Severus wondered if it were because of the poor lighting that Harry still seemed so deathly pale. His closed eyes looked as if they might never open again. But Severus couldn't bear to think like that. He'd come so close to losing Harry today, so close...

And there was still so much he had to make up for. He'd never even apologised. He'd known that he ought to. He'd even started to once or twice. But it was so hard, and he'd kept telling himself that he could do it later.

But Harry could have died today, and he'd have never known how sorry Severus was.

Severus licked dry lips and opened his mouth. Harry wouldn't hear him now, but he still wanted to go ahead and tell the boy how he felt. He'd tell him again once Harry was awake.

But when he tried to speak, his throat constricted, and instead Severus laid his head next to Harry's on the soft pillow, and sobbed.

When Albus returned to the room an hour later, Severus had pulled a chair beside Harry's bed and was sitting slumped in it, one hand gently carding through the boy's hair while Harry continued to sleep peacefully.

Albus quietly closed the door behind him and considered lighting the room with a soft Lumos charm, but then decided to let the moonlight provide the only light. It was late, and besides that, he thought Severus might be more comfortable in the darkness.

Severus continued to stroke through Harry's hair without looking up. Albus conjured another chair and sat down on Harry's other side. The two men sat in silence for a while.

Finally Severus sighed and spoke. "I never even apologised."

"It's not too late," Albus replied softly.

"I wish..." Severus' voice trailed off and he didn't finish the thought. After a few moments, he raised his eyes to Albus'. "It was my curse, Albus. My own curse almost killed him."

Albus shook his head. "Bellatrix is the one who attacked Harry, not you, Severus. I will not allow you to blame yourself for this."

Even in the faint light, Severus' dark eyes were haunted. "It was my curse," he repeated.

"And it was your cure that saved him," Albus pointed out. "Harry would have died if not for you. Several times over, in fact. Severus, you did nothing wrong today."

"Then it's the only day in my miserable life that I haven't," Severus answered heavily. "Albus, I created that evil, monstrous curse. I used it against people. I taught it to Bellatrix. How can you forgive me? How can he?" He looked back down at Harry, at his hand stroking the child's hair, and he thought that he ought to pull it away, that he wasn't fit to touch anyone as good and as pure as Harry. But he didn't. He didn't deserve Harry, but the thought of losing him was too terrible. Losing Harry would destroy him.

Albus' voice remained quiet, but he spoke so firmly that Severus felt compelled to drag his gaze from Harry and look at his mentor again.

"Severus, I meant it when I said I would not let you take on this burden of guilt. Yes, in the past you made mistakes...terrible mistakes and innocent people suffered because of that. But Severus, you have repented and you have done all you could to atone for those mistakes. You must learn to forgive yourself, as the rest of us have done."

"I don't deserve to be forgiven," Severus muttered, ducking his head again.

"Well, if anyone deserved to be forgiven, it wouldn't be forgiveness, would it?" Albus laid a hand on the younger man's arm. "Severus, I do know how hard it is to forgive one's own self, especially when others have been hurt, but you need to try. You are no longer the angry young man who joined Voldemort. You realised how wrong that was, and you had the strength to turn away from it. You have served the Light faithfully for many years and you have saved many innocent people, often at great risk to yourself. No one could have done more."

"Now, it is time...past time...for you to forgive yourself and let others into your life, into your heart. You don't have to close yourself off anymore. You don't have to deny yourself the joy of caring for other people and allowing them to care for you. Let go of your anger, your bitterness, and your guilt, and make the most of your life. You could have easily died today, too, but you've been given another chance. Make the most of it."

Severus bit his lip. "It's all well and good for you to say that, Albus. Perhaps you're even right. But you aren't among those that I've hurt. You heard Ron Weasley. For five years, I've mistreated Harry and made him miserable. He never deserved that. How can he forgive me?"

"I think you may be surprised, Severus. Harry has a compassionate and generous heart. Things have already changed between the two of you, and once he understands that you are truly sorry and that you care for him, I think he will readily forgive you."

"I hope so," Severus said in a low voice.

For a while they watched Harry sleeping. Then Albus spoke again. "He needs you, Severus."

Severus looked faintly surprised. "Do you think so? I mean, obviously the boy needs someone watching out for him, but now that Voldemort is gone, I would think the danger would lessen somewhat."

"We must be careful not to lower our guard too quickly, though," Albus said at once. "Voldemort may be dead, but many of his followers are alive. Bellatrix is the one who almost killed Harry today, after all, and I imagine that others who survived could be harboring plans of revenge. I told the Weasleys that Harry must be kept safe partly to cover the slavery spell, but it is also the truth. We must be careful not to let anything happen to him."

Severus nodded grimly.

Albus went on. "But that wasn't what I meant when I said Harry needed you. He needs you to care for him, to be his family. That is all Harry's ever wanted, and it's always been denied him." Albus' face grew sad and Severus thought that for a moment he saw the glint of tears in the headmaster's eyes. "Perhaps I was wrong to leave him with the Dursleys. Severus, I think you are not the only one who owes Harry an apology."

"He would have been dead within a month if you had let the Weasleys adopt him," Severus said. "They have absolutely no idea of cunning or discretion." He tried to keep the jealousy out of his voice, but even he could tell he hadn't entirely succeeded.

Albus arched an eyebrow at him, in a good imitation of Severus' dry expression. "Oh, I don't know. I think you might be underestimating them. But if it's any comfort to you, I think you are better for Harry now than they are, despite the fact that they love him dearly."

"I..." Severus began, but then stopped. He trusted Albus and allowed himself to be more open and vulnerable with his mentor than with anyone else, but his feelings for Harry were too raw for him to talk about, even with Albus.

"Harry needs you to help him come to terms with the slavery spell," Albus continued. "And of all the people in the world, Severus, you are uniquely able to empathise and understand how difficult this is for him. You, too, know what it is to be a slave and because of that, I think you can help him more than anyone else could."

Severus looked thoughtful and then slowly nodded. Yes, Albus was right about that. He may have never been under an actual curse, as Harry was, but he knew what it was to be a slave. Voldemort's Death Eaters had been little more, and had been more cruelly treated than many actual slaves. It had always amazed Severus that none of them had seemed able to see it.

"I will do my best for him," he said quietly.

Suddenly he looked up. "Norie and Zan! They must be worried sick. Harry and I were supposed to be back for dinner. They were going to have a cake ready..."

His throat closed again. For some reason, that seemed terribly important...that Harry had not been there to eat his birthday cake. He felt Albus' hand on his shoulder.

"I will go now and explain everything to them. Try to sleep, Severus. It's been a long day and you are recovering as well."

Severus nodded wearily. He caressed through Harry's hair one last time and then slowly made his way back to his own bed. Albus waited until he was lying down before leaving. Severus closed his eyes and lay still, listening hard. He could just make out Harry's soft even breathing in the darkness. It was a comforting sound and Severus smiled slightly. Perhaps Albus was right. Perhaps he could take good care of Harry and help him to be happy again.

His last thought before falling asleep was, Must be sure to put dittany salve on Harry's wounds in the morning. Can't let them scar...he has enough already...

***

Harry was vaguely aware of strong gentle hands smoothing a cool creamy salve on his chest. His eyelids fluttered, but they were still so heavy. After a few seconds, he just gave up and let them stay closed. It was nice just to float like this, not really awake and not really asleep. He could hear a soft low voice murmuring to him...at least he thought he caught his name once in a while, but he couldn't really make out the words. He thought he might be able to, if he tried hard enough, but he was so tired. He just wanted to float.

Maybe he'd died. Maybe when he opened his eyes, he would see his mum and dad and Sirius. He hoped so. But deep in the back of his mind, something was trying to tell him that the voice wasn't right for that. It was a man's voice and he'd heard it before, but it wasn't Sirius.

Harry ignored that feeling, though. He just wanted to enjoy floating, the pleasant sensation of the warm hands tenderly smoothing salve on him, and the low melodic voice. Eventually the hands carefully eased him over, so that he was lying on his stomach. Harry had a vague feeling that he needed to protest, to turn himself back over. There was some reason he didn't want anyone to see his back...but he couldn't think what it was.

The hands paused and the voice stopped for a minute, but before Harry could try to think what was wrong or wake up more, they continued, as soft and gentle as before. Darkness closed in again and Harry drifted back into sleep.

The next time he woke, it was to full awareness. He was lying down, but was propped up on a couple of pillows. He felt sore and stiff, but nothing hurt too badly. It was daytime...pale sunlight streamed through a window, but Harry couldn't see the sun so he couldn't see its position in the sky and guess the time.

He fumbled for his glasses and found them on a side table. He put them on and looked around. There was no clock. Except for the window, the pale walls were bare, as was the side table. There was one door, closed, and one other bed in the room, on the other side of the table from his own. It was unmade, but the blankets were folded neatly halfway down. It wasn't just a jumbled mess.

The room was unfamiliar, and yet Harry had been in similar places often enough to guess that it was a hospital ward or infirmary, though not the one at Hogwarts. St. Mungo's? It reminded him of the ward Mr. Weasley had been in last year. For a second Harry wondered why he was in a hospital, but then it all came back.

He'd done it. He'd killed Voldemort. He didn't know how, but he distinctly remembered Dumbledore saying that Voldemort was dead.

And then Bellatrix Lestrange had been there, too, and she'd cast some curse at him. There had been a lot of blood, and Harry had fallen and lost consciousness.

But he hadn't died.

At least he assumed he hadn't. Somehow he'd never imagined there being hospitals or injuries in the afterlife. No, somehow he'd lived again.

I really am the Boy-Who-Lived. Why is it so bloody impossible for me to die?

For a few minutes, Harry just lay there, ruminating on the unfairness of life. All he wanted was to die. Everyday, all over the world, other people died, many of whom didn't want to or weren't ready to. Why couldn't he? He would gladly trade places with one of them if it were possible.

But finally he sighed. For whatever reason, he was still alive. But at least Voldemort was dead and now that he was gone, Harry could make his own plans. He wouldn't have to live much longer. Soon he could be with his family.

He had just reached that point in his thoughts when the door opened and Severus came hurrying in, carrying a tall potted plant in one arm and an enormous balloon bouquet in the other. He looked blankly at Harry.

"You're awake."

"Yes, sir."

"I wanted to be here when you woke. I only stepped out for a minute. Albus and I were speaking with the Healers about where to put all your gifts, and..."

"Gifts?" Now it was Harry's turn to look blank. He remembered all the presents that Severus had bought him in Diagon Alley before Voldemort had showed up, but they'd all been shrunken to fit inside pockets. Harry really couldn't imagine why Severus and Dumbledore would need to talk about them with the Healers.

Severus came over and set the plant on the table. Then he cast a quick charm to make the balloons hover in the air by the foot of Harry's bed.

"Yes, mostly flowers, balloons, toy animals, other trinkets like that. I'm not sure quite how, as no one is supposed to know where you are, but somehow people seem to have surmised that you are in St. Mungo's and they are sending you tokens of their affection and gratitude. It began early this morning and the deliveries have just been increasing by the hour. Our room would be overflowing by now, except that Healer Bushby has given strict orders that you were not to be disturbed, so they've been keeping your gifts in the lobby and in empty rooms. But a rather annoying medi-witch insisted on dragging me out to ask me what to do with them."

"Oh. What did you say?" Harry asked.

"I gave them a list of your friends' names with instructions to save anything that came from them, and to save anything that seemed valuable, but to donate the rest to other patients, especially those who didn't have any family or friends of their own." Severus paused. "I hope that's all right with you."

"Oh, yes. Of course," Harry agreed. He looked from the balloons to the plant. "Who are these from?"

"The balloons are from Albus, Poppy, and the other Hogwarts' professors." Severus looked slightly embarrassed as he added. "The plant is from me."

Harry could only stare at him for a moment before managing to say, "Um, thank you."

"It is customary to give some type of gift when someone you care for has to go to hospital," Severus went on quickly.

Harry nodded. "It's really nice. I like it."

"You're welcome," Severus said.

At the same time, his previous words registered with Harry. ‘Someone you care for'. So Severus cared for him? Well, Harry had begun to think he might...he seemed so changed lately. But to hear him actually say it...that meant a lot. It really did.

Tears stung his eyes and to hide it, Harry looked over at the plant, pretending to examine it more closely.

"It is a spathiphyllum plant, more commonly known as a peace lily," Severus remarked. He held out his wand and a chair scooted across the floor to come to rest beside Harry's bed. The professor sat down in it.

Harry looked back at him in concern. The last time he'd seen Severus, the man had been tortured by the cruciatus curse.

"How are you, sir? Severus? Are you all right?"

Severus nodded. "Yes. I just needed a few potions and time to rest. How do you feel, Harry?"

"I'm all right."

"You're looking better. Of course you've had several more vials of blood-replenisher by now."

Harry looked at him curiously. "What spell was it that Bellatrix used on me?"

Severus' face seemed to close off. "Sectumsempra. It is a dark curse that causes excessive bleeding." He started to say something else, but then he abruptly stopped and looked down at his hands.

More for something to say than out of a real desire to know, Harry asked, "What time is it?"

"It is late afternoon, the day after Voldemort's death," Severus answered.

Harry smiled slightly. "I've spent a lot of time being unconscious this summer. I hope none of the professors assigns an essay on what we did over the holidays. Mine would be pretty short."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Harry realised that he would never begin his sixth-year at Hogwarts. He would never write another essay or go to class or see the Great Hall again. It hit him like a blow, but then he thought of seeing his parents and Sirius and felt comforted. Being with them again would be worth it.

Severus gave him a curious look. "I cannot imagine any of the Hogwarts professors assigning an essay on such a trivial topic."

"Muggle teachers do sometimes, in the primary schools," Harry told him.

"Really? How strange." Severus started to say something, then stopped again. He folded his hands, took a deep breath, and tried again.

"Harry, I have been waiting all day to talk with you, but now that the opportunity is here, I hardly know how to begin. It is...very difficult for me."

Harry wasn't sure what to say, so he just waited and after a moment Severus continued.

"Last night I realised that you had come close to dying, and that there were things I needed to tell you that I had been putting off. I promised myself that I would tell you as soon as I could."

He took another deep breath. "Harry, I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Harry asked.

"Yes." Severus nodded. "For the way I misjudged you and mistreated you for the past five years. I really have no excuse. You were an innocent child who never did me any wrong, and I treated you terribly. I can't blame you if you can't forgive me, but I am sorry."

The words were formal and stiff, but Harry had learned that that was a cover for when Severus really felt something deeply, just like the guarded look in his eyes and his carefully blank expression.

Somehow the hurt and the anger from the past faded and Harry realised that he could forgive Severus. Perhaps he already had. He reached over to lay his hand on Severus' arm again, as he'd done yesterday at the café in Diagon Alley, but this time he didn't pull it away quickly.

"It's all right, Severus."

Severus froze and emotion flickered across his face. Then he took Harry's hand between his own. "No, it's not all right, Harry. I was horrible to you. But I will make up for it. I promise you I will."

"Really, Severus. I forgive you." Harry told him.

For a second, he thought Severus might actually hug him, but then there was a knock on the door and Dumbledore came in.

"Harry, I'm so glad to see you're awake," he smiled. "You're feeling better, I hope?"

"Yes, sir. I'm fine now."

Severus cleared his throat. "You still need to take precautions, Harry. You will need to take a few potions, and put on dittany salve so there won't be any scars, and of course, no strenuous activity for a few days."

Harry just nodded. "Yes, sir." It was easier to agree than to argue, he'd discovered. Severus did seem to be pretty fierce when it came to taking care of him.

"The Healers say you should be completely well by this time next week," Dumbledore said, coming in and conjuring a second chair for himself. "We're very lucky that the both of you survived."

"Sir? There was something I was wondering," Harry began.

Dumbledore smiled at him. "Yes, Harry?"

"Well, do you know how I beat Voldemort? Because it just doesn't seem like I should have been able to. He's...was...a lot more powerful than me."

The headmaster shook his head. "Actually, Harry, I believe you have more raw power than Voldemort did. Do you remember when you confronted him in the graveyard at Riddle House, at the end of your fourth-year? Do you remember you told me how your wands connected and there was a bead of light that Voldemort was pushing towards your wand and then you concentrated with all your might and managed to push it back to his?"

"Of course," Harry mumbled. He wasn't likely to forget it, was he?

"And your victory there is what led to Priori Incantatum working on Voldemort's wand and eventually enabled you to escape. Well, when you told me that, I knew then for certain that you were the greater wizard," Dumbledore told him.

"Still, you are right, that at this point in time you really shouldn't have been able to defeat Voldemort. Ordinarily it would take years more of schooling, training, and experience before you would be able to rival Voldemort in a duel."

"But Harry, for better or worse, the ordinary rules never have applied to you. I do not know for an absolute fact, but I believe that once again, your mother's protection saved your life. You see, when Voldemort took your blood and used it to resurrect his own body, he also took Lily's protection into his body. He tied you to life. He could not kill you. Any one of his Death Eaters could have, but in his arrogance, he refused to allow them to. He was determined that he would kill you himself and prove to everyone that he was stronger. When he cast Avada Kedavra against you, your mother's sacrifice flared and caused the Killing Curse to rebound on him. His hubris was his downfall."

Harry was quiet, thinking it over. It made sense, in a way. But it wasn't right for him to get the credit for saving everyone. He hadn't done anything. It was Lily Potter who had really beaten Voldemort.

He voiced his thoughts, but both Severus and Dumbledore shook their heads.

"If you hadn't had the courage to face him, Harry, then Voldemort would still be alive today," Dumbledore said firmly. "You do deserve some of the credit. Certainly, if you wish to explain to the public how you came to survive, you may, but don't sell yourself short either. You didn't know that your mother's protection would still work and you were willing to give your life for all of us. You most definitely are a hero."

Harry started to object, but then he noticed something else that Dumbledore had said. "The public?"

"Everyone knows that you defeated Voldemort yesterday, Harry. July 31st may well become a national holiday in the near future. Ministry officials and newspaper reporters are having fits, wanting to know when they can speak with you," Dumbledore explained.

Harry shuddered and Severus squeezed his hand.

"Of course we will shield you from it as much as possible," Dumbledore reassured him. "But you may have to speak with a few people before the fuss will die down."

Harry wanted to protest, but then he remembered that he would be gone soon so he just shrugged and nodded. "All right."

Both Severus and Dumbledore seemed a little surprised. Severus added, "But you don't have to right away. We will wait at least until next week, when you have recovered. It will give us time to prepare a statement and figure out exactly how much we want to let people know."

Harry nodded again.

There was another knock on the door and a medi-witch poked her head in. "Excuse me, sir, but we have a delivery for Mr. Potter. It's from people on that list you gave us."

Dumbledore and Severus both stood, but the headmaster waved for Severus to sit back down. "I'll check it out, Severus."

He left the room and Harry looked over at the professor. "Sir? Severus? Why does he have to check it out?"

Severus sighed. "Just to be sure that it's safe, Harry. It most likely is from some of your friends, but we want to be certain that nothing cursed or dangerous in any way gets in here to you."

Harry suddenly remembered last year when Broderick Bode had been killed by a Devil's Snare plant that someone had sneaked in, and he understood why Severus and Dumbledore were being so careful.

But moments later Dumbledore came back in with a wrapped box and two separate balloons tied onto two toy animals...a snowy owl and a red weasel.

"These are perfectly safe, Harry. I believe they are from the Weasleys and Miss Granger."

The blue balloon tied to the snowy owl was from Hermione. On the attached card, she had written a dozen questions in her tiny neat handwriting, but at the end, she added,

Harry, I know you must be exhausted and maybe not feeling well yet. Don't worry about trying to answer. I'm going to come tomorrow with Ron and we'll talk then. Oh, Harry, I can't believe it! Love, Hermione.

The yellow balloon tied to the red weasel was, of course, from the Weasleys. Every member of the family, except Charlie who was in Romania and Percy who Harry supposed was still being a git, had written ‘Get Well Soon' messages, and Ginny and her parents had also written that they loved him.

Ron had written: Harry, the weasel is so you know you're one of us. Hermione and I are going to come visit you tomorrow. I'm not sure how we're going to get in, but we'll be there, one way or the other. See you then!

Harry just stared at the card for a long time while confused, jumbled feelings warred within him. Part of him desperately wanted to see Ron and Hermione and the other Weasleys. He was one of them and he missed them.

But if they came, they would ask so many questions, and Harry just didn't feel up to answering them. Would they find out about the slavery spell? That was the most important thing. Harry didn't think he could bear for anyone, even his closest friends, to know about that. They wouldn't understand and it would be impossible to endure their horror and pity. Harry thought that he would rather die than have to face that.

But if he died soon, it might be his last chance to see Ron and Hermione. How could he leave forever without seeing them again? On the other hand, how could he bear knowing that it would be the last time he would see them? Wouldn't it be better to just remember them from school? Wouldn't it be better for them, too, not to see him again?

"Harry?" It was Severus. Harry hesitated, but then silently handed him the cards.

While Severus was reading them, Harry opened the box and found bags of chocolate frogs and Bertie Botts' Every Flavour Beans, as well as choice selections from Fred and George's joke shop. He forced himself to smile when he saw Dumbledore and Severus watching him, but he thought they probably knew something was wrong.

Severus spoke slowly, as if it cost him a great effort. "Harry, do you want to see your friends?"

"No," Harry said without thinking. Then he quickly added, "Not yet. I just don't feel up to it."

Dumbledore still looked suspicious, but Severus, who normally would have been, too, only looked relieved. "Well, then, why don't I see if the Healers are ready to release you and then we can go home?"

Late that night Harry sat huddled in his bed at Prince Hall, nibbling on the end of his quill as he frowned intently down at a blank piece of parchment. It was well past midnight but he wasn't the least bit sleepy, not after spending most of the past day and a half resting at St. Mungo's. Instead he'd cast a Lumos spell, after shutting his door so as not to wake Severus, and now he was trying to compose farewell letters to the people he cared about.

He remembered a couple weeks earlier, when he'd written to Ron and Hermione, and had had such a difficult time trying to answer their letters without letting them know about his new circumstances. But that was nothing compared to trying to figure out how to say good-bye to everyone.

Somehow he hadn't really thought about how hard it would be to say good-bye, even in letters, and he was more thankful than ever that he had been released from St. Mungo's before Ron and Hermione could come to visit. Well, thankful in an odd, painful kind of way because he loved Ron and Hermione and missed them desperately. He thought that it was only now, now that he knew the end was near and that he wouldn't see them again...at least not in this life, that he understood how much he really did love them.

But if he had seen his friends one last time, that would have been unbearable for him. He probably would have broken down completely, and knowing Ron and Hermione, they wouldn't have stopped until he'd told them everything. And then all his plans to be with his parents and Sirius would be ruined because there was no way that Ron and Hermione would just stand back and let Harry go ahead and kill himself. They would probably even betray him to the adults. Heck, he knew Hermione would, and he had a strong feeling that for once Ron would be in complete agreement with her.

But they didn't understand. As much as they loved him, and Harry knew they did, they just couldn't understand what it was like to have to live without a family. They both had loving parents and Ron had all his brothers and Ginny, too. They couldn't really understand what it meant to be alone or how much Harry longed for his own family, too.

They couldn't understand what it was like to have to live as a slave, either. Harry wasn't sure he could explain it to them, or to anyone. Sometimes he didn't understand it himself...how he could feel so sad and angry and hurt, when Severus had turned out to be so good about it all. Harry didn't even mind living at Prince Hall, really, not anymore.

Except that in the back of his mind he had to wonder if Severus truly wanted him here. Severus cared for him. The professor had even said so, but that didn't mean that he wanted Harry living with him all the time. And for the rest of his life, too. It wasn't even a case of Harry being able to move out when he was grown and finished with school. No, the slavery spell would last for the rest of his life.

Unless maybe he would be freed from it when Severus died? But he didn't want Severus to die, not even if that would give Harry his freedom back. And the spell might not work that way. He might be inherited by someone else. Did Severus even have any other relatives? There was a lot about the professor that he didn't know, Harry realised. Based on the little he had heard about the Prince family, death might be preferable to living with any of them.

That was the crux of the trouble with the spell, wasn't it? It had taken everything from him, and his possessions were the least of it. The slavery spell had taken away his choices, his independence, the entire way he had thought about himself. Now he was just...just...this thing, a slave, less than he had been before.

And Harry didn't think he could bear to have to live the rest of his life feeling that way.

No, it was far better to go on. He would be free again, and there were people waiting there who loved him. He would be all right. He would be happy again.

And the people he left behind? Well, they might miss him for a while, but they would be all right too. Ron and Hermione would have each other. So would the rest of the Weasleys. Dumbledore could go along, happily running Hogwarts, and Severus....

For the first time Harry wondered if Severus would miss him. It would have been such a ridiculous thought at one time, but now.... Well, now he just might, a bit. But surely Severus would be all right, too. He hadn't wanted Harry to come live with him, after all. Harry had just been an unwanted burden again. True, Severus had treated him much better than the Dursleys ever had. He'd made the best of the situation and had even grown to care for Harry a little. But surely Severus would also be relieved when it was over and he could go back to his solitary life.

Harry nodded to himself and set the quill back to the parchment. Yes, this was the best way. He'd been thinking things through ever since he'd retired to bed earlier that evening and now all that was left was writing the farewell letters.

And actually going through with his plan, of course.

But first the letters. Harry took a deep breath and began to write.

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Weasley,

First of all, I have to apologise if I've caused you any pain by my actions. But I hope you won't be sad for me, cause I'm all right now. I'm with my parents and Sirius and I'm happy. So please try to be happy for me.

But before I go, I have to tell you how much I appreciate all you‘ve done for me. From the very first time I met you both, you've always helped me and made me feel welcome. When I was growing up at the Dursleys', I used to wonder what it would feel like to be part of a real family. Then I met all of you, and now I know how wonderful it is. So thank you for including me and making me feel like I belonged in your family.

Mrs. Weasley, I also have to tell you how much it meant to me when you and Bill came to see me before the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament. With the way it ended, with Cedric dying and Voldemort coming back and all, I think I forgot to tell you before, but I should have.

I was eating breakfast that morning and Professor McGonagall came by and told me that the champions' families were all coming to watch the end of the tournament, that I should go with the others to a chamber off the Great Hall. I almost didn't go. I knew the Dursleys would never come and I didn't want to have to see the others with their families all there. I was going to sneak up to the library instead. Then Cedric came back and told me to come on. I couldn't imagine why, since I knew no one would be there for me. But then I walked in and you were there. It was the most amazing feeling, to know that you cared enough to come and be my family that day. I'm sorry it took me so long to thank you, but it meant everything to me.

Well, I don't really know how to end so I guess I'll just say good-bye, and thank you again for all you've done for me. I love you all.

Harry

P.S. I started not to write this, just in case Severus doesn't give it to you, but I think he will, and then I thought you might not want to take it or be insulted or something, and I certainly don't want that. Argh, I know I'm making a mess of explaining. Let me start over.

I guess you know about the slavery spell by now. So really, all the gold I used to own belongs to Severus now. But he already has plenty of his own and he did say that I could spend it like I wanted. So I'm going to ask him if he will divide the Potter and Black gold between you and Hermione. I really hope you won't be offended by this. I would never want to offend you. But you've given me more than I can ever repay, and I really would like for you to have it. So please accept it for me. It would make me very happy.

Harry read through the Weasleys' letter; then set it aside and reached for another sheet of parchment. Ron deserved a letter of his own. It was even harder to write, but finally he managed it.

Dear Ron,

I think your letter is the hardest one I'll write. I don't even know how to begin. I guess I should say I'm sorry...sorry that I didn't tell you about the slavery spell and living with Severus now (he told me I could call him Severus, and everything's changed between us. He's really been very decent to me.), sorry for sneaking out of the hospital without seeing you and Hermione, and sorry for killing myself.

I couldn't tell you about the slavery spell. Dumbledore told me not to because owl post wasn't safe, but I couldn't have told you about it anyway. I just couldn't. It hurt too much to try to tell anyone about it, even you. It isn't Severus' fault. Like I said, he's been very good to me. Yeah, I know...it's hard to believe. But everything changed between us once I was living here all the time. I think Severus used to hate me because he thought I was spoiled and conceited, and now he's realised that I'm not. He even apologised to me. So don't blame him at all. It's not his fault that I got hit with that spell and he's tried to make me feel welcome. I hope that maybe he'll be nicer when school starts back again, but even if he's not, please don't call him names or make fun of him anymore. He's had a hard life and he's really very brave and loyal.

I'm sorry I left St. Mungo's without seeing you and Hermione. It wasn't because of you. It was because of me. I was afraid to see you, because you know me well enough to know when something's wrong, and I was afraid I'd break down and tell you everything, and then you'd have kept me from seeing my parents and Sirius again. I also thought it would hurt too much to know that it was the last time I'd see you. I guess that's not very brave of me, huh? But you know something? A lot of the time I don't feel all that brave. Sometimes I wonder why the Sorting Hat put me in Gryffindor.

But I'm really glad it did because if it hadn't, we might not have been such great friends. And Ron, you're the best friend I've ever had. You and Hermione. But you were first. I'd never had a friend before you asked to sit with me on the Hogwarts Express first year. I tried not to show it so much, but I was so happy and excited just because you wanted to sit in the same compartment with me.

All that first year, I was just unbelievably thrilled that you and Hermione were my friends. And to be honest, it's never worn off. I know, I know...I'm being way too mushy and uncool. If you were here, we'd probably have to punch each other or something. Course if you were here, I probably wouldn't have the nerve to actually tell you all this. But it's easier in a letter and I do want you to know.

I'm sorry for killing myself. You may be really upset and angry with me and you have a right to be. I don't know how to explain it, Ron. But I really want to be my parents and with Sirius. You've always had a wonderful family. I want that, too. But my family's dead and this is the only way I can be with them. I want to see my mum and dad in person and not just in a photograph. I want to be able to talk with them. I want to see Sirius again.

All those horrible years I had to live with the Dursleys. And then there was Sirius and he loved me and wanted me to live with him. Did you know that that was what I thought about the first time I was able to conjure a Patronus? That I'd finally have someone who loved me and wanted me.

It almost killed me when Sirius had to leave and I knew I'd have to go back to the Dursleys after all. But Sirius kept telling me to hold on and one day we could be together. But then he died. I just want to be with him and my parents again. I hope you can understand and forgive me some day. You'll always be my best friend and my brother. I love you.

Harry

Hermione's letter was similar to Ron's except that Harry wrote about being glad that the mountain troll had brought them together in first year, and told her how grateful he'd been back in fourth-year, before the First Task of the Triwizard Tournament, when most of the school had been against him but Hermione had stuck firmly by his side.

When he'd finished with hers, he selected one more sheet and began the last letter.

Dear Severus,

I hope you will understand why I needed to do this and will forgive me. Please don't blame yourself at all. You've been really wonderful to me, and I'm very grateful. I really am. But I don't want to be a slave all my life. I hope you can understand.

I need to be with my parents and with Sirius again, too. I know my dad and Sirius were awful to you, and I'm not making any excuses for them. I apologise to you on their behalf, since I know how wrong it was and I know how it feels to be bullied.

But I love my parents and Sirius, and I miss them. I want to be with them again and this is the only way I can be.

I know that all ‘my' possessions are really yours now so of course you can do whatever you want with them. But if you don't mind, I would appreciate it if you would give some of them away to my friends.

I would like for Ron to have my Firebolt and for Hermione to have Hedwig. Before she got Crookshanks, Hermione wanted an owl, and I know she would take good care of Hedwig.

I know the Potter and Black gold is a lot of money, but since you have plenty of your own already, will you please give it to the Weasleys and to Hermione?

The other three things that mean the most to me are my invisibility cloak, my photo album, and my wand. I would be glad for you to keep them to remember me, if you would like. If you don't want them, then please give them to Professor Dumbledore. Oh, there are a couple pictures of my parents in the album and I realise you probably won't want the ones of my dad. It's okay if you take them out, but would you please not destroy them? Perhaps you could give them to Remus for me?

Anything else you could give to a charity, or perhaps you could return all the new stuff to the stores and get your money back. I'm really sorry that you wasted so much money buying stuff for me, and now I'm not ever going to use any of it. If you can't get your money back from the shops, then please take it out of the Potter vault.

But I really do want to thank you for giving me such a great birthday. It was the first time anyone ever did anything to celebrate with me...well, except for before my parents died and I don't remember that. I had a great time and I'll always be grateful to you, for everything.

Sincerely yours,

Harry

Harry read back through Severus' letter with a slight frown. It didn't say exactly all he wanted, but he wasn't sure how to change it. Finally he decided it would just have to do.

He folded the letters and wrote the recepients' names on the back. Then he climbed out of bed and walked slowly over to his trunk. It was almost time for him to go, but first he would look through his photo album one last time. He would see the pictures of his parents and godfather, and it would give him the courage to follow through on his plan.

Harry sat cross-legged on the floor, leaning against the trunk, with the maroon album in his lap, smiling as he slowly flipped through the pages. The first picture was one of his parents, holding a baby Harry, and waving proudly at the camera. It was the only picture he had of the three of them together. Harry touched it lightly with his fingers and then turned to another, of Sirius and himself, last Christmas at Grimmauld Place

He'd meant to only take a quick peek and then be on his way. It would be best to get it done before daylight, before anyone was awake and able to stop him. But he must have been more tired than he'd realised because while he was smiling at a photograph of Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and himself in ridiculous shamrock-covered hats from the Quidditch World Cup, his eyes closed and he fell asleep.

***

"Harry? Are you all right?"

Harry blinked and opened his eyes to find Severus, fully dressed in his dark robes, kneeling beside him and gently shaking his shoulder.

"Why didn't you call me if you couldn't sleep? Are you ill?" There was unmistakable concern in Severus' voice, and Harry felt vaguely guilty at what he was planning to do. But surely Severus would soon recover. Harry's death wouldn't really hurt him, would it?

He shook his head, wanting to reassure the professor for now, at least. "No, I'm all right. I wasn't sleepy so I thought I'd look at my photos, but I guess I was more tired than I realised. But I feel okay."

"Are you certain?"

Harry nodded and Severus looked relieved.

"Well, then, we need to put some dittany salve on your wounds before you get dressed."

"Dittany salve?" Harry asked.

"Yes." Severus held up a small jar of thick gooey clear salve. "It helps to prevent scarring. You don't want to have a nasty scar across your chest, do you?"

Harry thought to himself that it didn't really matter, but of course he couldn't say that so he just agreed and let Severus help him to his feet, wincing slightly. Sleeping against a trunk was pretty uncomfortable.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Severus demanded.

"Yes, sir. I'm fine, just a little stiff."

"Well, sit down for a minute and we'll see if I can help with that." Severus motioned for Harry to sit on the side of the bed. Harry did so, and Severus came around behind him and began gently kneading his sore shoulders. After a few minutes, Harry relaxed and tipped his head back to look at the professor.

"That's really nice. Thank you."

"You're welcome." Severus glanced at the folded parchments in a pile on the bed. "It looks like you were rather busy last night."

"Oh, well." Harry thought quickly. "I wanted to write to my friends. You know, to kind of make up for not seeing them today." He breathed an inward sigh of relief that it was Hermione's letter on top.

"Yes." Fortunately Severus didn't seem very interested in discussing Harry's letters to his friends. He motioned for Harry to take off his pyjama top, but Harry ignored him. He hadn't let anyone see him without a shirt for several years.

"Harry, I put some of this salve on you at St. Mungo's. I put it on your chest, and then I checked to see if you had any wounds on your back," Severus said quietly. "Fortunately, you didn't, at least not any recent wounds. But I did see the scars."

"Oh." But Harry still didn't move to take the shirt off.

Severus came around to sit in front of him, face to face. "Harry, did the Dursleys do that to you?"

His voice was gentle, but Harry could see a smoldering fire in Severus' black eyes. It was all right, though. Severus wasn't angry with him, he knew that now.

Harry still hesitated a moment. He'd never talked much about the Dursleys and the way they had treated him. Ron and Hermione knew some, more than anyone else, but even they didn't know the worst of it.

But on the other hand, did it really matter now? He was going to be gone soon.

Finally he nodded and mumbled, "Yes, sir."

There was a long silence and then Severus said, "They'll be punished, Harry. I promise you."

Harry shook his head. "It's all right, Severus. I don't want them to be punished."

Severus actually seemed speechless for a moment. Then he managed to sputter, "What? Harry, they obviously abused you! They shouldn't be allowed to get away with that."

"They were scared," Harry said softly. "They're afraid of magic. It wasn't fair for them to get stuck with me all those years. They never wanted that. But it's all right now. I don't have to see them again, so..." He shrugged and let his voice trail off.

"I don't care how frightened they were!" Severus burst out. "They're adults. You're a child. How frightened could they have been? As for ‘getting stuck with you', you're their nephew. They should have welcomed you into their home and made it your home, too. Instead, it appears that they beat and starved you. There is no excuse for them, Harry, and they most definitely do deserve to be punished. I'm going to see Albus later this morning, and I will speak with him about pressing charges against the Dursleys, unless of course I decide to simply take matters into my own hands."

Harry studied him, trying to decide if Severus meant that. There was such a fierce gleam in his eyes that Harry felt compelled to say, "Well, maybe they should go to prison or something"

"Prison is the least of what they deserve," Severus snapped. Then, seeing Harry flinch at his tone, he reached over to take his hand and lightly squeeze it. "It's all right, child. I'm not angry with you."

"Don't hurt them. Please, Severus."

Severus sighed. "I won't. But only because I will not take a chance on being sent to Azkaban and forcing you to have to go there with me. I will talk with Albus about our options when I go to Hogwarts. Would you like to come along?"

"I don't think so," Harry said, thinking furiously. If Severus were going to be gone later this morning, then he would have some time alone to go ahead with his plans. "I'm fine, but I think I just want to hang around here and take it easy today."

Severus looked at him thoughtfully, and Harry held his breath and wondered if he should have agreed to go and just waited until tonight. It wouldn't do for Severus to get suspicious.

But finally the professor just said. "All right, if you're sure. But I want you to tell me if you feel ill."

"I'm not ill," Harry assured him.

Severus nodded. "Well, then let's get this dittany salve on and have some breakfast."

When Severus had smeared the dittany salve over Harry's chest and back and had cast some charm to make it not stick to clothes, he left to let Harry dress. Harry picked out some of his things from Gladrags...a navy-blue polo shirt with a red collar, jeans, and trainers...and then went downstairs to join Severus.

After breakfast the professor left for Hogwarts, promising to be back as soon as possible. But if Harry had thought he would have some privacy to carry out his plans, he'd forgotten to take Norie and Zan into account. The house elves hovered over him until he thought he'd go mad, wanting to be certain that he felt well and to know if he needed anything, anything at all.

He finally persuaded them that he was tired, but not ill, and that he just wanted to lie down and rest for a while.

"I think I might be able to fall asleep if it's quiet," he added, hoping that they would take the hint that he didn't want to be disturbed.

"Very well, Master Harry," Zan said while at the same time Norie told him, "But if you is to need anything..."

"I'll call you right away," Harry assured her.

"All right then, Master Harry. You have a nice rest." And finally they were gone and Harry was alone.

He hurried upstairs to his room and went to his trunk where he'd hidden the farewell letters. Even though he'd known there was almost no chance of Severus or the elves going into his room and finding them during breakfast, he hadn't wanted to take any risk at all of anyone seeing them before the proper time. He set the letters on his desk and paused at Hedwig's cage. Usually she was asleep by now, but this time she seemed agitated, fidgeting on her perch, ruffling her feathers, and making worried clucking sounds.

Harry reached into the cage to touch her feathers. "It'll be all right, Hedwig."

He glanced back at his trunk. He would have liked one more look at his photo album, but he was afraid to take the time. The elves had delayed him and he wasn't sure when Severus would return from Hogwarts. No, there was no time to waste. Besides, it was foolish to want to stare at pictures when he would see his family in person in just a few minutes. Resolutely, Harry turned and left his room without a backwards glance.

Making sure that Norie and Zan were nowhere in sight, he crept down the stairs and out the front door on silent feet. He'd done a lot of thinking last night about the best way for him to die and he'd finally decided that he would let the slavery spell do it for him. Dumbledore had warned him when he'd first woken as a slave that the spell would kill him instantly if he tried to escape. So all he had to do was run away.

He wasn't sure at what point the spell would act. He'd almost expected it to kill him when he'd taken his first step with the intention of escaping. But the magic let him leave the house and walk across the lawn. He paused at the wrought-iron gates, but nothing happened when he stepped through. He gazed at them for a second, feeling perplexed. Then he shook his head in disgust at himself.

Of course he hadn't died yet. The slavery spell was a magical contract. It only made sense that it would act when he violated the magical boundary. Harry turned to face the moor and the stone wall that he knew lay just out of eyesight. Surely that was it. He would die when he crossed the Fidelius Charm boundary with the intention of escaping.

Harry started across the moor.

***

At the very same instant that Harry slipped out of the house, Severus flooed into his upstairs sitting room from Hogwarts. He and Albus had talked for a brief while about the best way to handle the onslaught of public attention as well as how to bring the Dursleys to justice, but they'd soon decided that they really needed Harry's input before making decisions. Albus had invited him to stay and visit for a time, but Severus had been anxious to go home and as soon as he could without being inexcusably rude, he'd left.

For some reason, he hadn't wanted to leave Harry that morning. He told himself that he was being ridiculously overprotective, that Harry wasn't really injured by now, and that the boy wouldn't even want him hanging over his shoulder every second. But none of that eased his longing to be at home with Harry.

Severus snorted softly as he went across the hall to Harry's room. He was going to end up a doting old nanny if he wasn't careful. But the thought brought a wry smile to his lips instead a scowl. It was just so...so...amazing to have Harry in his life, to have someone he cared for and wanted to be with. He'd never expected to have a real family. He'd never imagined how wonderful it could be. But now he knew, and he would treasure it.

He peeked into Harry's room, but the boy wasn't there. Well, Harry had said he wanted to take things easy today, but that didn't mean he'd planned to stay in bed. Perhaps he was downstairs.

Severus turned to leave, but suddenly Harry's owl screeched at the top of her lungs and frantically flapped her wings. Severus was not fanciful, but the thought did cross his mind that she sounded exactly as if she were crying for help. He couldn't resist going to her cage to see if something were wrong.

But nothing appeared amiss and he turned to go, shrugging slightly, when something on Harry's nearby desk caught his eye. It was the folded sheets of parchment that had been on the bed earlier. But they weren't only to Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. There was also one addressed to the Weasley parents, and there was one for him, Severus, as well.

Severus reached for his letter and opened it. He read as far as the line I need to be with my parents and with Sirius again, too when he abruptly flung the parchment down and dashed to the door. "Harry!"

He raced down the stairs, his heart pounding violently against his ribcage and a hundred horrific scenarios flashing through his mind. Where was Harry? Where would the boy have gone? Please help me find him! Severus prayed desperately. Please don't let it be too late! Please, oh, please...

Then, as he started by one of the front windows, he caught a glimpse of a figure on the horizon. Harry! He was still alive. But what was he doing? And then Severus knew. Harry was going to cross the Fidilius Charm and let the slavery spell kill him.

Severus spun on the spot and Apparated to the moor.

***

He was almost there. The stone wall was only a few steps away. Harry paused and took a deep breath. This was it. Once he passed the wall, there would be no going back.

For a moment, all the fearful thoughts he'd refused to let himself think before crowded into his mind. What was dying like? Would it hurt? Did he really want to do this?

Because he had to be sure.

He thought of his parents and Sirius, and felt the familiar ache for them. He wanted them. Dying was the only way he could be with them. It would be worth it, wouldn't it?

And yet there were other people he loved, too. Other faces swam in his mind: the Weasleys, Ron, Hermione...Severus.

If he stepped past the wall, he would leave them behind. But they would be all right. They all had each other.

Except Severus.

Severus didn't really have anyone except Harry, did he?

There were the elves. They cared for Severus and he for them, but Severus was away from Prince Hall for most of the year. He didn't have Norie and Zan with him for months at a time.

Severus was friends with Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey, and seemed to get along with several of the other professors, too. But despite that, he had still always seemed to be alone, isolated from other people in some mysterious way.

But Severus wanted that, didn't he? He didn't really want Harry to live with him. He was just making the best of the situation, wasn't he? Harry looked back at Prince Hall, then at the stone wall, wavering and uncertain.

Suddenly there was a sharp crack and Severus was there before him, pale as death himself and his eyes blazing. Harry stared at him in dumbfounded amazement.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!"

"I..." Harry tried to say, but he really had no idea how to answer. It didn't matter though, Severus swept on, his words bursting out like floodwaters released from a dam.

"How could you do this? How could you even think about it? Everything we've been through...and you try this? What were you thinking? If I hadn't come back in time..."

Severus reached for him, and just for an instant it was as if they were back in the library the day Severus had thought he'd snooped in his journal, the day Severus had shaken him hard enough to leave bruises. It even brought back buried memories of Uncle Vernon screaming and slapping him around. Harry instinctively flinched and jumped out of reach.

It was as if he'd thrown a bucket of cold water at Severus. The professor froze and then the anger vanished, to be replaced with pain and self-reproach. When Severus spoke, his voice was an anguished rasp.

"I wasn't going to hurt you."

Harry ducked his head. "I know," he mumbled.

Severus' voice cracked with emotion. "Harry, why?"

Harry looked at the ground, staring at the tall grass and wondering how he could ever explain. The silence dragged on for long minutes, but Severus remained quiet, waiting for Harry to answer, his obsidian eyes watching Harry intently. Harry didn't look at him. He didn't dare raise his eyes, but he could feel Severus' gaze trained on him.

Finally he managed to say, "I want to be with my parents and Sirius. They would love me. They would want me."

"I love you. I want you."

Harry did look at him then. But Severus' familiar face blurred and suddenly Harry was crying, harsh racking sobs that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside him. And then Severus' arms were around him, holding him close, tight. Harry grabbed onto the front of his robes and clung to him.

After a few minutes, Severus eased them down to the ground and for a long time they sat there. Harry pressed his face to Severus' chest and wept wild, heartbroken tears while Severus held him and silently rocked him back and forth.

When Harry eventually grew quieter, Severus said slowly, "Harry, child, I cannot take the place of your parents or your godfather. I'm not trying to do that. They have their own places in your heart, and that's as it should be. But I meant what I said. I do love you."

He paused and began to card through Harry's hair with gentle fingers. "Harry, I need you. Before you came, my life was empty. I never learned how to make friends or to get along with people. I told myself that I was content living alone, that it was better not to need anyone. But then you came, and you've given me so much."

He took a deep breath. "It's very difficult for me to talk about my emotions, Harry, but you need to know what you've done for me." His words came slowly, awkwardly, but his fingers caressed through Harry's hair with undeniable love and his arms holding Harry were strong and sure.

"I never knew what real joy was before you came. I never knew what it was to care so much for someone that I could feel his happiness or pain more clearly than my own. I never looked forward to a new day beginning. Now I do."

Harry turned his face to rest his cheek against Severus' shoulder and whispered. "You really love me?"

Severus pressed a kiss to the top of Harry's head. "Yes, I love you with all my heart."

After a moment Severus cleared his throat. "Harry, I have to tell you that your parents and your godfather would not want you to kill yourself. Yes, they loved you very much, and I'm sure they still do, but they would not want you to cut short your life here. It's not time for you to be with them. Not yet. You still have so many things to do here."

Harry looked up at him. "But I already killed Voldemort. Isn't that enough?"

"No, child. I only meant that there are so many things for you to experience and enjoy," Severus explained. "And there are many people here who love you and need you. I'm at the top of the list, but you also have many friends who would be devastated if you harmed yourself."

"They all have each other."

"But there is only one Harry," Severus replied. "One person cannot replace another."

They were quiet for a while, sitting in the tall moor grass with Harry curled against Severus' chest while Severus held him close. Harry really didn't know what to think. His thoughts kept going in circles. Part of him still wanted to be with Sirius and his parents. He did miss them, perhaps more than ever now that deep inside, without even being consciously aware of it, he was accepting that he wasn't going to be with them soon after all.

But Severus loved him. He really did. Harry had always, always wanted someone to love him, to have someone of his own who loved him and whom Harry could love in return. But somehow it had never worked out and with Sirius' death, Harry had finally given up hope of ever having a family of his own.

Now it seemed that his dream might have come true without him even realising it. Deep inside, underneath all the tumultuous pain and sorrow, Harry couldn't help feeling a warm glow. Someone loved him, really and truly.

But why did it have to be a slavery spell that had brought them together? Now, if Harry lived, he would have to stay a slave forever. He felt as if he'd cracked into a million tiny pieces inside and could never be put back together the same way again.

As if he'd sensed the direction Harry's thoughts had taken, Severus asked quietly, "Harry, I understand that you miss Sirius Black and your parents, but there's more to it, isn't there?"

He'd thought that he'd cried himself out, but apparently he hadn't. Tears welled up in Harry's eyes again and slid down his cheeks.

"I don't want to be a slave," he whispered.

Severus sighed, a sorrowful sound, and began rocking him again. "I know."

"It's not fair."

"No, it's not," Severus agreed.

Harry looked up at him again. "I'm sorry. You've been wonderful to me and I don't mean to be ungrateful."

But Severus shook his head sharply. "You don't have to apologise, Harry. You aren't being ungrateful. In any case, I wasn't wonderful at the beginning, and I'm sorry. I wish I had done more for you then. Or at any point before now, really. I'm the one who owes you an apology. I've known that being under this spell is painful and difficult for you, and I haven't done enough to help."

"You can't help me," Harry told him dully. "No one can."

"No, Harry, I refuse to believe that," Severus said firmly. "This is hard for you. I'm not denying that. But we can make it better."

"You can't free me."

"Not today, no. But Albus hasn't given up on searching for a way to free you, and Harry, I will help him too. We will keep searching and working, and perhaps one day we will find a way to free you. But you have to persevere, too. What if you kill yourself today, and we find a way to free you tomorrow? You can't give up, either."

Harry didn't respond, but Severus didn't press him on it yet. He just continued. "In the meantime, let's try to figure out ways to help you feel better."

Before Harry could insist that nothing would make him feel better, Severus went on. "Could you tell me one thing about the spell that hurts you the most?"

Harry was quiet for a long time. He started to say something, but then stopped again.

Severus smoothed his hair. "Please?"

"It makes me feel like I'm not as good as I used to be, not as good as other people. I don't feel like I'm the same person I used to be," Harry finally said, almost inaudibly.

Severus abruptly sat up straight and took Harry's face between his hands.

"Harry, you are the best person I've ever met," he said fiercely. "You are kind and generous and compassionate. You are intelligent and hard-working and courageous."

"I'm not very brave," Harry protested.

"Yes, you are. Time and again you have risked your own life to save others. You saved young Miss Weasley from Tom Riddle's memory. You slew a basilisk. You brought Cedric Diggory's body to his parents so they could have a proper funeral instead of only saving yourself, which no one could have blamed you for. And you faced Voldemort, several times even, which is a great deal more than many adult wizards would have the courage to do."

Severus lightly brushed the tear tracks from Harry's cheeks with his fingertips. "Harry, you are a wonderful person. I've grown to love you as if you were my own son. Perhaps it's too soon for us to talk about this, but I would very much like to adopt you. I know that I can't take your parents' place, as I already said, but since they can't be here, I thought perhaps..."

His voice trailed off, suddenly sounding a little nervous, and Harry realised that he was worried about his own reaction. He said softly, "I would love for you to adopt me, Severus. But I'm your slave. How could you adopt me too?"

"Harry, first, this is very important. I never think of you as my slave. I think of you as my son. Will you promise me that you'll try to think of us as a family, too? If it's too soon to think of me as a father, then try to think of me as a guardian, but please don't think of us as slave and master."

"But we are," Harry said in a small voice.

Severus leaned even closer until their foreheads were almost touching. He face and voice were intense as he said, "Harry, the slavery spell does not have to be the defining element of our lives. We have to live by its rules, yes, but we can be so much more. If there were no spell, if we had a way to free you this very minute, I would still want you to live here and be my son. The spell brought us together, but it has nothing to do with my feelings for you. If you could think of us as a family, too, it might help you not to hurt so much."

Severus pulled him close and wrapped his arms around him again. Harry leaned against him and rested his head against Severus' shoulder.

"Harry? Will you please try?"

Harry nodded and Severus caressed his hair again. "Good. Now, secondly, I've done some research and if you want, I could adopt you. The slavery spell does not necessarily preclude other relationships. But you should know adoption in the wizarding world is a magical contract. We would have to go to the Ministry and sign papers and make vows. During the procedure, any other binding spell we are under would be discovered, so..."

Harry was already shaking his head and speaking frantically. "People would find out about the slavery spell? No, please, Severus. It isn't because of the adoption, I would love that, but I don't want everyone to know I'm a slave. Please? I couldn't bear that."

"Shh, child. It's all right. We don't have to go to the Ministry. No one has to know, if you feel that strongly about it. Shh, now."

Harry gulped back a shuddery sob and buried his face against Severus' chest. Severus rubbed comforting circles on his back and began carding through his hair again.

"Harry, I want you to know, though, that in my heart you are my son and that will never change."

Harry slid his arms around Severus and hugged him back. "Severus? I love you, too."

Severus grew very still. "You don't have to say that, Harry. I know it takes time."

Harry looked up at him. "I do love you, Severus. I just didn't know that you loved me. I thought my parents and Sirius were the only ones who did."

Severus' hand came up to cradle the back of his head. "You must promise me that you won't ever attempt suicide again."

When Harry hesitated, Severus said forcefully, "Harry, I can't live without you. If you harm yourself, it would kill me, too. You're everything to me." His voice broke. "Please don't leave me."

Harry thought it was the hardest thing he'd ever done, but finally he gave a small nod. "I won't. I promise."

Severus seemed to sag for an instant before squeezing Harry more tightly than ever.

"Thank you, child. And you will be happy. I promise you."

They sat in the wild moor grass near the stone wall for a little while longer, not talking, but just holding one another. Harry leaned against Severus and the professor smoothed his hair and patted his back in silence. He wasn't sure how he felt. Severus had just promised him that one day he would be happy again, but that idea seemed so foreign. Harry felt as if at some point, he'd forgotten what it was to be happy, if he ever really had been.

But it was sort of nice...calming...to sit here with Severus and be held and patted and rocked. It was nice to rest his head on Severus' chest and listen to his heartbeat, to lean against his solid warmth and to be safely cocooned in his strong, gentle arms. It was easy to let his troubles slip away and to just enjoy the sensation of being held. Harry wished they could stay like that forever.

He could count on one hand the times he'd been embraced before. Mrs. Weasley had held him that night in the infirmary, after the Triwizard Tournament. Sirius had hugged him twice, and he, Ron, and Hermione had hugged a couple times.

"I wish..." he began before stopping abruptly. Severus had already apologised for the past. Harry didn't want to make him feel badly.

Severus' hand was cupped around the back of Harry's head. He lightly rubbed his fingers back and forth, the pads of his fingertips massaging Harry's scalp.

"You wish what?" He asked softly.

"Just that we had been friends before now," Harry mumbled.

Severus nodded. "So do I."

He sounded so sorrowful that it made Harry feel guilty. He shouldn't have said anything. He knew Severus was sorry about the way he'd treated him in the past and there was no reason to bring it up and make him feel worse.

"I'm sorry," Harry told him.

"For what?"

"For bringing up the past. It's like you said, we've started over, so..." Harry shrugged.

Severus was quiet for a moment before saying slowly, "We have started over, and I'm very grateful to you for giving me another chance, Harry. But we can talk about anything you want to talk about, including the past. You don't have to apologise for needing or wanting to discuss something. If we had talked more over the past few weeks, perhaps you wouldn't have felt that life was so hopeless you wanted to give up on it. Perhaps we both need to work on opening up more, at least with one another."

Harry wasn't exactly sure how to respond, so he only nodded without saying anything more.

Severus was silent, too, for a while before asking, "Do you want to talk about the past? Or about anything else?"

Harry considered. "Not really, I guess. It's just..." he hesitated, but the professor waited patiently until finally Harry finished. "I always felt sort of alone."

Severus sat back a little so that he was once more looking straight into Harry's eyes. "You are not alone any longer. I want you to come to me whenever you have a problem or feel upset about something, and I will do everything I can to help. All right? Will you do that?"

"I'll try," Harry mumbled.

"I do mean it, child. I want to help."

Harry studied Severus' face. For once the man didn't seem guarded and difficult to read. His expression was concerned; his dark eyes soft and filled with emotion. Harry slowly nodded. "Thank you."

But Severus shook his head. "I don't want you to thank me. I love you. Of course I want to help. Just come to me, if I don't see that something is wrong first."

He hugged Harry to him again for several long moments before clearing his throat. "It's past lunchtime. Shall we go inside and eat?"

Harry really just wanted to sit there in Severus' embrace, but they had been outside for quite a while and he supposed that they couldn't stay there forever after all, so he nodded again. They climbed to their feet and walked back to the Hall. Severus did keep an arm around his shoulders and Harry leaned against him, feeling comforted.

Norie and Zan gave them curious looks when they came in, and Harry realised that the elves must have seen them from the windows, but neither one said anything about the fact that the two wizards had just spent the better part of the morning sitting on the moor, holding one another and crying. They did both smile at Harry though. He managed to give them a tiny smile back.

He and Severus ate vegetable soup and sandwiches, and as they were finishing, the professor remarked. "I used to always walk around the gardens for a while after lunch. Would you like to come with me, Harry?"

"All right," Harry agreed.

So they went to the gardens and strolled along the brick pathways. Harry had not spent a lot of time in the gardens and as they walked, he looked around. The only other time he'd really explored here had been the second day at Prince Hall when Norie and Zan had shown him around the estate. Most of the flowers and bushes had been in bloom then and the gardens had been bright with colours and fragrant with heavy flowery scents.

Now, later in the summer, there was more greenery. Some flowers were blooming but for many of them their petals had disappeared for another year, leaving them with thick lush leaves instead. The path twisted and turned and they walked by stone benches and a goldfish pond with a burbling fountain of a winged hippogriff in the center.

When they came to the pond, Severus stopped and pulled his wand from his sleeve. He conjured a bag of bread crumbs, opened it, and handed some to Harry.

"When I was a child, I used to come here and feed the goldfish. Once in a while, I still do. Would you like to?"

Harry looked at him in surprise. It was difficult to imagine Severus, even as a child, doing anything as frivolous as tossing bread crumbs in a goldfish pond. But it was also a reminder that he certainly didn't know everything about the professor. Maybe Severus hadn't always been so practical and solemn.

He nodded. "Yes, sir."

They cast the crumbs into the pool, watching the ripples spread out in ever-widening circles and the flame-coloured fish swim to the surface to snatch at their treats with round open mouths. Harry had to smile a little at their eagerness.

"What else about the spell hurts you?" Severus broke the silence.

Harry ducked his head and Severus said quietly, "We can discuss it later if you wish, but we do need to talk about it all, Harry. If I know more about how you feel, I can help you deal with it better."

Harry sighed. He didn't really think anyone could help very much, but finally he mumbled, "I can't own any of my stuff. I can't own anything ever again."

Severus laid a gentle hand on his shoulder and said sadly, "That's one thing I can't do anything about, Harry. I'm sorry. If there were a way that I could have your possessions put back in your name, I would. But I'm afraid of what the spell would do to you if I tried. I couldn't bear to see you suffer, Harry."

He nodded. He couldn't speak past a huge lump in his throat, which was stupid really. He'd known that. He thought he'd accepted it. But it still hurt.

"I'm sorry," Severus repeated.

Harry suddenly felt very guilty. He looked over and said quickly, "It's not your fault, Severus. You've been really wonderful to me, and you've done as much as you can. I know that. I mean, you let me call them ‘my' things, and keep them with me, and use them however I want. You didn't have to do all that."

"Yes, I did." Severus responded. "Anything else would have been stealing."

After a moment, he added, "I wish I could do more, Harry."

"I know."

They finished throwing the bread crumbs to the goldfish and then walked on.

When they went back to Prince Hall, Severus suggested another chess game. They played until late afternoon and then had tea in his sitting room, sitting together on the sofa in front of the fireplace. They didn't talk about the slavery spell anymore for the rest of the day, but Harry was sure Severus would bring it up again soon. Harry wished he wouldn't. Talking about the slavery spell...even thinking about the slavery spell...hurt, and Harry just wanted to forget it, as much as he could anyway. It was always in the back of his mind, like a cat waiting to pounce.

When Norie had Disapparated with the tea tray, Severus turned to Harry. "Is there anything in particular you would like to do?"

Harry hesitated, trying to think of something, but finally he just shook his head. "No, sir."

"Would it be all right if we talked about how to handle the Ministry and all the public attention?"

Harry really just wanted to forget all that, too. The idea of having to speak with officials and reporters made him feel ill. Some of his feelings must have shown on his face because Severus reached over to take his hand.

"It's not so bad. You don't have to do anything if you truly don't want to. It's just that Albus and I think that if we arranged a couple things now, it would help the furor to die down. And we could do it on our terms."

"We don't have to though. If you don't want to face anyone, Albus and I will do our best to shield you. But you're a hero, Harry, and people are wild to see you and hear more about how you saved us. I know it's a bother, but to be fair, everyone is very grateful to you and quite concerned about your well-being. Somehow everyone knows that you were injured and were at St. Mungo's and they want to know that you're all right."

Severus' words struck another chord and Harry turned to him with a stricken face. "I bet Ron and Hermione are really upset. They were worried about me and I just ran away from them. I didn't even leave them a message."

He hadn't really thought about it before now. He'd been intent on leaving before his friends saw him and realised that something was wrong. All he'd been able to think about had been hiding the slavery spell and his own suicidal thoughts.

But now, for the first time, he thought of how Ron and Hermione must have felt. Either they'd come to St. Mungo's only to discover that he'd skipped out on them, or perhaps someone had told them of his departure before they'd made the trip to the hospital. But either way, they'd known that Harry had run off without seeing them, without telling them the truth about anything that had happened this summer. They would be hurt and angry, and they had a right to be.

They'd always been such good friends, the closest he had a family. They'd stuck by him through thick and thin. They had celebrated and commiserated with him, and had shared his burdens as much as they could. They had deserved better from him.

"Harry?" Severus' voice pulled him back to the moment. "What are you thinking?"

He swallowed hard. "Ron and Hermione. I haven't treated them right. I know you don't like them, Severus, but they're my best friends. They're the best friends anyone could have, but I haven't been a good friend to them. They're probably really angry with me."

"Because you left the hospital without seeing them? You could blame that on me, if you wish."

But Harry shook his head. "But that isn't true. You gave me a choice." He sighed. "You know, at first this summer I worried that you wouldn't let me see Ron and Hermione anymore, and now that I know you will, I may have lost them anyway because of how I've acted."

For a second, a vaguely guilty look crossed Severus' face, but almost before Harry noticed, it was gone. Severus just said, "I think you should give your friends a little more credit than that. They may be upset, but they care for you. I don't think you've lost them."

"I hope not," Harry whispered.

"Write to them and explain. I'm sure they'll understand," Severus suggested.

Harry looked away, swallowing hard. "I don't know how to explain," he said thickly.

"It will come to you," Severus reassured him. "They're your friends. They care for you. They'll understand."

Harry's vision blurred and a tear rolled down his cheek. He swiped it away, feeling angry with himself. He'd surely done enough crying for one day. But Severus didn't seem to mind. The professor pulled him close again and slipped an arm around him.

"Now, about dealing with the public," Severus continued briskly after a moment. "If you want to try to avoid it entirely, you can for as long as you're at home and at Hogwarts. But I fear that for some time at least, you might be mobbed if you try to venture off-grounds, such as on Hogsmeade weekends, for example. For the present, you would almost be a prisoner at home and school, and haven't you had enough of that?"

"It might be easier on you in the long run if we prepare a statement and read it to the press. It doesn't have to be very long, and you wouldn't have to answer any questions. It wouldn't have to be an interview session. You could just briefly describe what happened in Diagon Alley, reassure people that you have recovered, and tell everyone that while you are grateful for their concern, the best way they could show their appreciation is to respect your privacy and allow you to have a normal life. It's your decision, Harry, but I do think that plan might be best for you."

"Do I have to decide right now?" Harry asked.

Severus shook his head. "No, of course not. Think it over for a few days if you wish."

Harry nodded. "I will"

The professor's arm around him tightened. "Albus and I also discussed the Dursleys," he began.

Harry shook his head swiftly. They'd already covered so many painful topics that day. He just didn't feel up to talking about the Dursleys, too.

Severus seemed to understand. "All right," he conceded. "We'll talk about them another time."

Harry leaned against him. "Thank you, Severus."

They both retired to bed early that evening. Harry was worn out and Severus seemed tired, too. After they'd changed into pyjamas and Harry had climbed into bed, the professor came to his door and knocked.

"May I come in?"

Harry smiled. "Sure."

Severus came over and sat on the side of the bed. He carded his fingers through Harry's hair and then rested his hand lightly against his cheek.

"You do remember what you promised me this morning? About not hurting yourself again?" He asked softly.

Harry nodded.

"Because I couldn't go on without you," Severus told him. "I love you."

Once again tears came to Harry's eyes and a lump to his throat. He didn't think he could speak without breaking down. But when Severus leaned slightly closer to brush his hair back from his forehead, Harry twined his arms around him for a minute.

Severus touched his lips to Harry's forehead. "Good night. Call me if you need anything."

He left and Harry noxed the lights in his room. As he was drifting off, he realised that they had forgotten his dreamless sleep potion, but he felt so sleepy that he didn't want to bother getting up for it. He'd just hope for the best. For once, his wishes were granted and he slept peacefully throughout the night.

***

When he woke up the next morning, there was a tiny bag sitting on the night table beside his glasses. It was wrapped in golden paper and tied with a red ribbon. Harry took it and examined it for a minute, before slowly untying the ribbon and opening the bag.

There was a chocolate frog inside with a card of the German alchemist Heinrich Agrippa. Harry looked at the frog curiously, but when it sprang in the air, he caught it and popped it into his mouth. Normally he wouldn't have eaten anything without knowing who had given it to him, but he was safe from those kinds of worries at Prince Hall. No one here would hurt him. For a second, he couldn't help but smile. He was safe here. It was a nice feeling.

He showered, dressed in a red shirt and jeans, and headed down for breakfast. Severus was skimming through the Daily Prophet...the photos on the front page showed some of the destroyed buildings from Diagon Alley, but he set the newspaper aside when Harry came in.

"I believe your OWL scores have arrived. Albus sent this envelope from Hogwarts early this morning."

Harry noticed a large square envelope lying beside his plate. It was of thick official paper and his full name Harry James Potter was written in fancy script across the front. It was funny. At one time those scores would have been so important, but now...well, they didn't really mean anything now, did they? Harry sat down and slid the envelope over so it wouldn't be in the way while he was eating.

"Aren't you going to open it?" Severus asked after a moment when it became obvious that Harry wasn't.

Harry shook his head and shrugged. "Maybe later."

Severus frowned. "Don't you want to see your marks?"

"Not particularly," Harry admitted

"Harry, you're a bright boy and you've always done well in your classes. I'm sure you have nothing to worry about," Severus said.

"I'm not worried. There's just not much point to it now, is there?" Harry stirred his porridge and scooped up a spoonful.

"What do you mean, ‘there's not much point to it'?" Severus demanded. "Your scores determine which courses you'll take for the next two years. And which NEWTS you'll need to pass."

Harry sighed. "But there's not much point in that either, is there?"

Severus laid down his own spoon and studied Harry. "Well, I know that there is plenty of money for you to live off of for the rest of your life, but I would still hope you would care about learning as much as possible and doing well for the sake of being knowledgeable and skilled."

"I'll do well in my classes, Severus. Don't worry. I won't embarrass you or anything," Harry assured him.

Severus frowned again, and reached over to take Harry's hand. "You would never embarrass me, Harry. I just ask that you do your best. But I'm beginning to wonder if we're miscommunicating again. Why do you think your scores aren't important?"

Harry's face crumpled and he turned away. It was a moment before he could answer. "Because none of it matters. It's not like I can do anything after Hogwarts."

"Ah, I think I see," Severus murmured. He squeezed Harry's hand. "You think you can't have a career when you are grown, is that it?"

"Well, how can I?" Harry hated the way his voice wobbled.

Severus left his chair and came over to kneel by Harry's chair. He pulled Harry into his arms, and hugged him quickly. Then he placed both hands on Harry's shoulders.

"Harry, of course you can have a career. If you want to be an Auror or anything else, we'll try to work it out. We'll make it work out. Any money you earned would have to be in my name legally, but we could arrange all that in private. I want you to be as free as possible, to have as many choices as possible. We're going to make certain that your life is rich and full and happy. I promised you that yesterday, didn't I?"

Harry could only gaze at him in speechless wonder. The idea that he might be able to be an Auror after all...well, he hardly knew what to think.

Severus tightened his grip on Harry's shoulders for a second before releasing him and going back to his chair. "Go ahead and open that envelope, child."

Harry bit his lip, but he slit the envelope and pulled out the sheet of parchment inside. He stared at it for a few minutes in silence. He'd failed History of Magic, which he'd expected really, since he'd collapsed in the middle of that exam, but he'd done well in everything else. He'd gotten mostly Os, except for two Es, in Potions and Astronomy. He'd expected to do worse in both of those subjects actually. He'd always struggled in Potions, and the Astronomy exam had been disrupted by the attack on Hagrid and McGonagall. Harry figured that everyone's scores must have been affected by that and that allowances must have been made for extenuating circumstances.

He realised that Severus was watching him.

"Do I get to see your scores?" The professor arched an eyebrow at him.

Harry handed him the sheet and Severus studied it thoughtfully before nodding and handing it back.

""Well done, Harry. Congratulations."

"I only got an E in Potions, though," Harry said.

Severus nodded. "Yes, but I already told you that I am going to allow students into my NEWT class with an E. So that shouldn't affect your plans, if you wish to become an Auror."

Harry cast him a sideways glance. "You would do that for me?"

"Yes, because I think that rightfully you should have had an O in Potions," Severus said quietly. "From your very first class, I mistreated you. For five years, I used Potions as an excuse to hurt and humiliate you. To my shame, I must admit that there were even times when I tried to make you fail. It's a miracle you learned anything at all. And yet, in spite of the abuse you suffered at my hands, you managed to earn an E, which is a respectable mark. If I had done as I should have and treated you impartially, I do believe you would have scored an O on the exam. It would be extremely cruel and unfair if you were denied a career simply because your Potions instructor was an idiot."

"You..." Harry began.

But Severus shook his head. "I was, Harry. We both know it. But I will try to make up for it, and this is one way that I can."

"Thank you."

Severus nodded and patted his hand.

After breakfast, Severus asked, "Harry, would you be all right here alone for just a little while? I have some very important business this morning, but it shouldn't take long."

"I'll be all right," Harry told him. Severus looked a little uneasy so he added, "I won't try to kill myself or anything like that. I promised you I wouldn't."

Severus hesitated before finally saying, "I will be back soon."

After the professor had Flooed away, Harry wandered to the library. He found a book that looked interesting and went to sit in a chair by a window, but he ended up spending more time staring outside than he did reading. Thick dark clouds covered the sky this morning and eventually fat raindrops began to plop against the glass.

He felt so confused. He still missed his parents and Sirius. He still wondered if he would have been better off if he could have died and been with them. It still hurt to think that he was a slave. He wasn't happy and still didn't think he ever would be.

Yet he did love Severus and the professor loved him too. And maybe, just maybe, things wouldn't be quite as bad as he'd been thinking. Maybe if he just took one day at a time, it might be a little easier...because thinking about his whole life stretching out for years and years was still overwhelming.

Norie and Zan came into the library several times on some pretext or another, and Harry had to wonder if Severus had asked them to keep an eye on him after all, in spite of Harry's promise. But on the other hand, it might have just been the elves themselves. They were pretty quick to pick up on things and he knew they'd been concerned for him.

He didn't know how much time had passed when a knock on the door made him turn. Severus was back and Harry noted that he still looked a bit uneasy. "I have a surprise for you."

He stepped aside and Ron and Hermione came in.

Harry stared at them in speechless amazement. Ron and Hermione looked a little uncertain, too, but then Hermione smiled tentatively and said, "Hi, Harry." She came over and hugged him. Just for an instant Harry stood frozen; then he grabbed onto her as if she were a lifeline and suddenly, for some reason, they were both crying. Then Ron was there, too, and the three of them held each other close for a long time.

Severus had disappeared by the time they pulled apart, leaving them alone with one another. Harry looked from Hermione to Ron and back again. For a moment, he almost wondered if he were dreaming. It seemed impossible for his friends to actually be here at Prince Hall, but there they were...Hermione in a yellow-flowered sundress, her hair in two thick plaits that hung down her back, Ron in a colourful T-shirt and jeans.

"How...?" he began.

"Professor Snape brought us," Hermione told him. "He explained everything."

"Everything?" Harry swallowed. "What did he tell you?"

"That the spell Malfoy cast against you was a slavery spell that bound you to him, and that's why you've been here all summer. He said that it's been pretty rough on you and that you've been real depressed, even wanting to die, and that you were afraid to tell us about it all," Ron said quietly. His blue eyes held Harry's, and they were perfectly serious. "So when he asked us to come visit, Hermione and I figured we'd better come help you get your head back on straight."

Harry wanted to respond, but he didn't know what to say, how to make his friends understand how he'd felt. He shut his mouth and turned away, visibly upset. But then Ron stepped closer and said softly, "Hey, mate, it's all right."

At the same time, Hermione reached for his hand. "Harry, we just want to help. We love you and we hate to think that you've been so unhappy."

He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, guys," he mumbled.

"For what?" They both asked together.

"For leaving the hospital without seeing you, for not telling you before," Harry shrugged. "For all of it."

"But you couldn't tell us, could you?" Hermione tilted her head slightly. "Professor Snape said that he and Dumbledore asked you not to because owl post wasn't secure enough."

"Yeah, but I don't know if I could have told you anyway," Harry admitted in a low voice. "It's really hard for me to talk about."

"You can tell us anything, Harry," Hermione said earnestly. "But we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. Just..." she hesitated. "Just promise us that you won't...you know...hurt yourself."

"Severus already made me promise," Harry agreed. "I won't try anything again, I swear."

"Again?" Ron demanded. "You mean you already tried something?"

"Well," Harry shrugged again. "Didn't Severus tell you?"

"He said you had gotten to the point of wanting to die, but he didn't say you'd actually attempted it." Hermione's eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Harry!"

Ron looked murderous. "I'm going to kill Malfoy the next time I see him."

"I'll help you," Hermione, usually the voice of reason, promptly agreed.

Harry couldn't speak. For weeks he'd worried over his friends' reactions and now he felt overwhelmed by their complete support, their love for him. But he should have known. They were the best friends anyone could ever have. A great wave of affection swelled up in his chest, making it difficult to breathe for a moment. He wanted to tell them how much it meant to him...how much they meant, but it was so hard to actually speak the words. He would feel like an idiot if he tried to say it all aloud; that was why he'd written his feelings down in those letters the other night.

Harry blinked. The letters...but did he have the courage to show them to Ron and Hermione? Part of him thought it would be better to just burn those letters now that he was going to live, after all. But then he looked at his friends, both of them standing close, so concerned and protective on his behalf, and he wanted them to know how he felt.

Before he could lose his nerve, he grabbed their hands. "Come on, I need to show you something."

He led them out the library and upstairs to his room. Ron and Hermione both gazed about, looking impressed.

"Harry, this place is beautiful," Hermione murmured while Ron added, "It's even grander than Hogwarts."

Harry had to smile a little. "It's something, isn't it? You know, I hate that spell, and at first I thought I'd hate Prince Hall, too, but I don't. I like living here, but not really because it's so big and nice and all that. It's because..." he felt himself turning red, but had to continue, "Severus and the elves are here."

"Professor Snape seems very different," Hermione remarked in a soft voice, glancing around to be sure they were alone. "He really seems to care for you now, Harry."

He nodded. "He does, and I care about him, too. Everything's changed between us now."

They had come to Harry's room and he showed them in, closing the door behind them. The instant the door was shut, Ron exclaimed, "Harry, no offense or anything, but bloody hell! Snape? I mean, the last we knew he hated your guts and vice versa, and then this morning he shows up, practically being nice and sounding all worried about you. I kept wondering if he were someone else under polyjuice potion or if he'd been Imperiused. I was really surprised that Mum and Dad agreed to let me go with him."

Harry sighed. "It's been a long summer. Come on and sit down, and I'll tell you about it."

They settled themselves on the sofa and armchairs, and Harry spent the next half-hour describing the events of the past six weeks and trying to explain how he and Severus had reconciled. His friends listened intently, asking occasional questions.

When he'd finished, Hermione said, "I'm really glad that you have Professor Snape now, Harry. It's awful about the spell, but if it made him realise what a great person you are, and gave you a family, then maybe some good can come out of it. Now we just have to find a way to lift that curse from you."

Harry shook his head. "I don't think it can be lifted." He tried to keep the despair out of his voice, but could tell he hadn't entirely succeeded.

"Well, don't give up." Hermione leaned forward, her eyes trained on his. "You said Dumbledore and Snape are working on it, and they're both extremely clever and powerful."

"And maybe we can work on it, too, when we get back to Hogwarts," Ron put in. "You can find all kinds of interesting things in the library, you know." He grinned. "Especially in the restricted section."

Harry tried to smile back. "Never thought I'd hear you complimenting a library."

"Yeah, I've been around Hermione too long."

She promptly picked up one of the little sofa cushions and hit Ron with it. He tried to grab it away and in the ensuing tug-of-war match they managed to rip the cushion in half.

"Oops, guess we got carried away," Ron said ruefully as feathers floated in the air around them.

"Harry, we're sorry," Hermione exclaimed. "If I could just do magic, I could fix it right away, but I can't." Her eyes grew round. "Oh, no, Professor Snape might not let us come back."

Ron nodded at Harry. "Nah, he's laughing. Snape'd probably let us demolish the place if it made Harry laugh." He shook his head. "And I never thought I'd see the day when Snape gave a rat's..." his eyes flickered over at Hermione. "Um...tail about Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes and reached for his wand. "It's not a big deal, guys, at least not the cushion. Reparo!"

As Hermione set the newly-repaired cushion back into place, Ron looked over and said seriously, "I'm glad you have Snape, too. It sounds like you've needed him."

Harry was able to give him a genuine smile this time. "Thanks, Ron."

"It's sure going to be different from now on, though," Ron mused. "Guess I have to start calling him Professor Snape now, too, huh?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, you have to be nice."

"Well, they say nothing's impossible," Ron agreed cheerfully. He studied Harry. "So what's it like to be able to do magic in the summer?"

"It's pretty much like doing magic any other time." Harry shrugged.

"But you got your Trace lifted early. Wasn't that exciting?" Ron wanted to know.

Harry considered. "Not really. I mean, it might have been, except..." His voice trailed off for a minute as he thought of how to explain. "It's just been hard to feel excited or happy about anything lately."

They grew quiet and then Hermione laid her hand on his arm. "Harry, is there anything we can do to help?"

"Yeah, you're already doing it," Harry told her. "That reminds me; I brought you guys up here because I wanted to give you something. A couple days ago, when I was planning to die, I wrote both of you a letter, so you'd know how I felt and all." He hesitated. "It's the kind of stuff I'd never be able to tell you in person, but I guess since I've come pretty close to dying a couple times this summer, I've realised that I'd like for you to know it. So here." He summoned their letters from his trunk and handed them to Hermione and Ron.

They read silently and then Hermione set her parchment down, came over, and hugged him again. "I love you, Harry."

Harry hugged her back. "I love you, too, Hermione."

"It's a good thing I'm not the jealous type," Ron remarked after a moment of solemn silence.

In spite of themselves, Harry and Hermione laughed a little and though Hermione was teary, she arched an eyebrow at him. "Oh, you're not, are you?"

Harry coughed something that sounded suspiciously like, "Viktor Krum?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Ron replied in a lofty tone.

Hermione moved back to her end of the sofa and Ron added, more seriously, "Um, Harry, what she said...that goes for me, too."

"Yeah, me, too." Harry said, though he wasn't able to look at Ron when he said it, but found himself studying the pattern on the rug instead.

"But if you ever think of trying to hurt yourself again, I'm gonna kill you myself."

"I think Severus might beat you to it," Harry told him wryly.

"Well, good," Ron said.

"So, Severus came and got you this morning?" Harry asked.

Hermione and Ron nodded.

"Yeah, he came to the Burrow first, right after breakfast and asked to talk with Mum and Dad in private," Ron told him. "Then a little while later, they came and got me. Sn...Professor Snape told me about the spell and all that, and said that he thought it might help you if your friends were around sometimes, so he'd come to invite me and Hermione to Prince Hall for the day."

"And then they came to my house." Hermione shook her head. "I have to say it was a bit of a surprise to find Professor Snape and Ron standing on my doorstep, but when they explained about everything, I knew we had to come. I told my parents that Professor Snape was tutoring you this summer so that's why you were staying at his house, and that we were invited to visit you. To be honest, I don't think Mum and Dad would have agreed if it had just been Professor Snape, but since Ron was there too, they finally said it was all right."

"Snape...sorry, Professor Snape said that he'd thought it would be easier to convince your parents if I were there, too," Ron added.

"Harry, is that all right?" Hermione asked, looking a little unsure. "You are glad we're here?"

"Of course I am. Isn't it obvious?"

"Well, I just wanted to be sure," she explained. "I worried a little that you wouldn't like it that Professor Snape told us everything."

Harry considered. It was true that he'd been upset, maybe a little angry, when he'd first realised what Severus had done, but those feelings had faded almost instantly when he'd seen that Ron and Hermione were supporting him. He really had missed them and had wanted to see them; he'd just been worried about having to tell them about the slavery spell. Now that his friends already knew, he was actually quite relieved.

"No, it's all right," he finally said. "I mean, I don't want anyone else to know, and Severus knows that, but it's okay that he brought you here. I really wanted to see you both, but I was dreading having to tell you about the spell and all. I guess I'm kind of glad that Severus did it for me, this one time anyway."

He looked at Ron. "Do your parents know about it, too?"

"I think so, but they won't say anything to anyone else," Ron assured him.

"We won't either, Harry," Hermione promised. "But really, you don't have anything to be embarrassed about. You haven't done anything wrong. It's Draco Malfoy who should be ashamed."

Ron swore under his breath at the mention of Draco's name and even Hermione's face darkened with anger.

"I can't believe nothing has happened to him, that he's just being allowed to go merrily on his way," she exclaimed. "Casting an unknown spell against any sentient being is clearly against wizarding law. He should be in Azkaban right now, especially since he's caused so much harm to Harry."

"I guess the Malfoy name still has some influence after all, or at least their money does," Ron said bitterly.

But Harry shook his head. "No, I don't think it's that so much. It's because we've been trying to keep the spell a secret. We didn't want to take a chance on Voldemort finding out."

"Well, Voldemort's gone now, isn't he?" Ron pointed out. "Why isn't anyone doing something about Malfoy now?"

Harry looked at them with haunted eyes. "But guys, I really don't want there to be a trial or anything like that. I'd have to tell about the spell then, and it would be in all the papers and everyone would know." He shuddered. "I'd rather die."

"Don't say that!" Ron said sharply. After a moment he reached over and gripped Harry's shoulder. "Sorry, mate, I didn't mean to sound like that, but after...you know, you just can't say that." He sighed. "So what then? Malfoy gets to ruin your life and walk away scot-free?"

"He's not going to get off," Hermione said in an uncharacteristically grim voice. "We're going to make sure of that. I don't care if I spend the next two years in detention."

"Me, either," Ron agreed, with a hard glint in his eyes.

"No," Harry told them. "I don't want the two of you getting yourselves into a lot of trouble on my account."

"But Harry..." Ron began.

"Look, I hate Malfoy more than anyone. I hate his bloody guts. And just the normal kind of stuff that we've always done would be all right. He sure deserves it. But I'm afraid that you're too angry to stop at just the silly hexes and jinxes, and I don't want you getting into anything worse." Harry looked from one to the other. "All right?"

Ron and Hermione didn't respond right away.

Ron finally said, "I don't know, Harry. If Malfoy's not going to have to go to trial or get anything like he really deserves, then we've got to do something. We can't just let him get away with this, at least I can't. We're brothers, aren't we?"

"Yeah, we are," Harry said thickly. "Just...be careful, all right? I'm not asking you for Malfoy's sake, believe me. I just don't want you and Hermione to risk anything for me."

Ron still looked stubborn, and after a minute Hermione spoke up, "Listen, why don't we see what Dumbledore does? I can't believe that he's going to let Malfoy get away with this. He must have something planned. And maybe Professor Snape does, too, now that he's on Harry's side."

Ron relaxed a little. "Imagine Snape getting after Malfoy for Harry's sake. I'd pay good money to see that."

They grew quiet for a few minutes, and then Hermione changed the subject. "So, Harry, can you tell us more about what happened with Voldemort? I still can't believe that you did it, and he's gone."

Harry described the day at Diagon Alley, the last battle and the way his mother's sacrifice had protected him against Voldemort. When he was finished, Ron and Hermione looked impressed.

"I'm so glad that it's over, but I can't help but wish that we'd been there with you, too," Hermione said.

Ron nodded. "I know. We've always been with you before. I kind of assumed we'd be with you at the end, too."

Harry looked at them in wonder. He'd known what wonderful friends they were, of course, but today they were proving it once again. Not many people would have been willing to stand against Voldemort, but if Ron and Hermione had been at Diagon Alley that day, Harry had no doubts that they would have been right at his side.

"You guys are really great, you know that?" He told them.

Hermione smiled and Ron waved his hand in a grand gesture. "Of course we do. We hear it all the time," he joked. Then he continued, "But speaking of great, Harry, that was really amazing of you."

Harry looked at him as if he were crazy. "I didn't do anything."

"You faced him. You were willing to fight him even thinking that he would probably win. That's really brave," Ron said.

"I'm just glad it's over," Harry answered. He sighed. "Severus says that the Ministry and the newspapers all want to talk with me now. I don't know what to do. I don't want to see any of them, but he and Dumbledore think it would be better in the long run if I made an appearance and read a statement or something. Severus says that I don't have to, but I might be mobbed if I tried to go out in public. He thinks it would be easier if I told people what happened and asked them to respect my privacy, in a nice way of course."

Hermione nodded. "He may be right, Harry. The papers are all going crazy trying to find out stuff about you. They've even re-printed that interview with the Quibbler from last year."

"Yeah, somebody actually approached Dad at work, too, since they know we're good friends with you, and tried to pump him for information," Ron remarked.

Harry stared. "Really? How can they do that? I'm sorry, Ron."

Ron shrugged. "Hey, it wasn't that big a deal. Dad basically just told him to get lost. Well, I think he said it in a little nicer way, but that was the gist of it."

"But if you did go out and let everyone see that you're alive and well, and tell them what happened, they might be willing to give you a little privacy after that," Hermione said.

"I guess I need to," Harry admitted. "I just don't want to. Is there anything else interesting in the papers? Severus says that we still need to be careful because some of the Death Eaters are still on the loose."

"Most of the ones who were at Diagon Alley were caught, but not all the Death Eaters were there," Hermione told him. "Dolohov is still loose and so is Fenrir Greyback, among others."

"They're lying low, though. The Aurors have been out in full force looking for them," Ron added. "They've captured a few more, MacNair, the Carrows, and Nott."

"I hope they catch the rest soon," Harry said and his friends nodded in agreement.

But then the clock on the wall chimed, reminding them that it was time for lunch, and thoughts of danger vanished as they headed downstairs to the dining room.

Severus was already in the dining room when Harry, Ron, and Hermione came in. The professor's gaze flicked over them, coming to rest on Harry, and he thought that those black eyes were filled with trepidation, even though Severus' face was impassive.

Harry smiled and went to stand close beside him. "Thank you for inviting my friends over."

Severus' expression didn't change, but his eyes seemed to warm and glimmer. He placed his hand on Harry's shoulder. "You're welcome."

"Yes, thank you for letting us see Harry, Professor," Hermione said, sounding polite but a little hesitant, as if she halfway expected Severus to begin insulting her and Ron.

But he only inclined his head at her and said in a stiff but equally polite tone. "Thank you for accepting the invitation. I know that your support means a great deal to Harry." He gestured towards the table. "Shall we sit down?"

Clam chowder, salad, and grilled shrimp appeared as soon as they were seated. It was a quiet meal. Harry thought that both Severus and his friends seemed ill at ease, but he supposed that was to be expected. While Severus had not treated Ron and Hermione as badly as he had treated Harry in the past, he had been snide and unfair, as he often was to all the Gryffindors. In return, they had always resented Severus, though Harry knew that it was as much from their loyalty and protectiveness for him as from their own sense of being wronged.

He hoped that things would change now, that Severus, Ron, and Hermione could learn to get along, too, but he supposed that for now, he'd better just be grateful that they were all being civil. Ron and Hermione did make sure to thank Severus again as they were finishing lunch and he nodded at them once more before turning to Harry.

"So how do you three plan to spend the afternoon?"

Harry glanced over at the windows. Dark clouds still covered the sky and the rain fell steadily. "Um, looks like we're stuck inside. I guess I'll show Ron and Hermione around, if that's all right, and then we'll just hang out."

"Of course you may show your friends around. Prince Hall is your home, too. I'll be brewing in my laboratory, if you should need anything." He stood, letting his hand rest briefly on Harry's shoulder again before striding out of the dining room.

When he was gone, Harry smiled at his friends. "That went pretty well. Thanks, guys."

"Well, he does care for you now, and that's the main thing," Hermione said. "Right, Ron?"

"Yeah," he nodded.

"It does mean a lot to me," Harry admitted. "That you're here and, you know, supportive and all, not just about the spell, but about Severus, too."

"Some of the other Gryffindors might not be, though," Ron warned before suddenly looking concerned and adding, "Oh, sorry, mate."

Harry frowned. "For what?"

"Well, you know, we're here to cheer you up, to try to help you feel better, not to make you worry about anything," Ron explained.

"I do feel better, and I know the other Gryffindors might have problems with me and Severus getting along now, but I hope they'll accept it." Harry sighed. "I'm going to ask Severus if he'll be a little more fair to us this year, too. I mean, I can't ask him to change completely, but maybe just a little bit."

"I really think the others will be all right with it, Harry," Hermione reassured him. "Eventually...if they can see that Professor Snape has changed towards you anyway."

"Anyway, you know you can count on us," Ron promised.

Harry nodded. "I know. Hey, have you met Norie and Zan yet?"

He called the house elves and introduced them to his friends when they appeared. After they had gone, he noticed that Hermione looked disapproving. For a moment it puzzled him, but then he remembered her dedication to SPEW. He felt a sharp pang as he also remembered how he and Ron had always been a little embarrassed at Hermione's fervor for elves' rights. Not that he'd ever believed that it was right for house elves to be slaves. He'd always known that it was wrong in principle, but since so many of the elves themselves seemed content with their lot, and since he'd always had other more immediate problems to deal with, he'd never spent much time worrying over it.

Now it was different.

Now he truly knew how wrong the whole system was. Whether the elves believed they were happy or not, they should be free. They should at least have a choice of what they wanted to do with their lives and to be able to leave abusive homes. Harry thought of how, back when he'd first fallen under the slavery spell, he'd been sick with fear over the idea of Severus having complete control over him. Thank Merlin, Severus had turned out to be wonderful, but what if Draco Malfoy had been the first one to touch him instead? What if he were a slave to the Malfoys or to someone like them? Harry shuddered and tried to banish the thought from his mind.

Taking a deep breath, he noticed that Ron and Hermione were watching him in concern. He forced himself to relax and to smile at them.

"It's all right, Hermione," he said. "Norie and Zan are free. Severus freed them right after he inherited the estate. They stay here because they want to."

"Oh." She smiled back. "That's good then."

"Yeah." Harry's smile faltered. "Severus has never wanted anyone to be his slave, not even me back when he hated me. He's told me several times that he would free me right away if there were a safe way to do it."

Hermione reached for his hand and squeezed it. "We'll find a way, Harry. Don't give up."

They were quiet for a moment; then Ron cleared his throat. "Hey, weren't you going to show us around this place?"

Feeling a little relieved at the change of subject, Harry nodded. "Yeah, I am. Come on, guys, this way."

Harry dutifully led his friends around Prince Hall and then the three of them settled back in his room. Harry asked about their holidays, and listened while Hermione told him all about the trip to Germany she'd taken with her parents.

Then Ron brought him up to date on the Weasley family news. George had fully recovered from the loss of his ear. Though it couldn't be replaced since it had been cursed off with dark magic, his hair was long enough to hide the missing appendage so it didn't really matter except that he had a harder time hearing sounds on his right side now. The twins' joke shop was doing phenomenally well. Ginny and Luna Lovegood had become close friends and Luna had come to visit at the Burrow several times. The two girls and Ron had spent plenty of time dueling and brushing up on the DADA skills that Harry had taught them in Dumbledore's Army the previous school year.

"We wanted to be ready for this year," Ron explained. "We all kind of thought that the war would be going strong and that we might have to face Voldemort and Death Eaters again. I guess that's all settled, but maybe we could still have the DA, just like a club or something."

"Yeah, like we were going to have that dueling club back in second year," Hermione added. She grinned. "Funny how that fell through after Professor Snape trounced Lockhart."

That led to reminiscing about past years at Hogwarts and then to speculating about the upcoming one.

"I wonder who'll be the Defense professor this year," Hermione wondered.

"Anyone would be better than Umbridge," Ron responded. He turned to Harry. "Oh, that reminds me. Toad Lady was arrested a few days ago. The Jordans and the Kincades are pressing charges against her for using that Blood Quill on Lee and Faith. Dumbledore's set her trial for next week so with any luck she'll be in Azkaban by the time school starts."

"I wish you could press charges against her, too, Harry," Hermione said.

But Harry just shrugged. "I really don't want to have to get involved. The less I have to do with the Ministry and the public, the better. Besides, as long as she's going to Azkaban anyway, what difference does it make?"

"But she hurt you, too, and she should be held accountable for it," Hermione replied firmly.

Harry shook his head at her and decided to change the subject. "I wish Remus would be the Defense professor again. He was the best teacher we ever had."

"Yeah, but I doubt that'll happen. People still feel pretty strongly against werewolves," Ron told him.

"But Remus is perfectly fine as long as he takes Wolfsbane, and he is an awesome instructor," Harry insisted.

"I'm not arguing, but I just don't think it's gonna happen," Ron answered. "What's Remus up to anyway?"

"Well, Dumbledore said he was on a mission for the Order, but that was earlier this summer" Harry said. He grimaced. "I don't really know what he's doing now. He never writes to me," he finished in a quiet voice.

Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance. Hermione said softly, "Well, if he's been on a mission, it probably wasn't safe for him to contact you, Harry."

It seemed to Harry that Remus could have found a way to send some message, either before leaving on his mission or since Voldemort's death, if he'd wanted to. But he only nodded and said, "Yeah, I guess."

"So who do you think'll make the Quidditch team this year, now that we've lost four of our old members?" Ron asked after an awkward pause.

"I don't know, but look at this. Severus gave it to me for my birthday." Harry summoned the Secrets of Seeking book and handed it to Ron, who flipped through it with a look of delight.

"This is awesome, Harry. I can't believe he gave this to you. And he said you could play this year, right? Even when we play Slytherin?"

Harry nodded. "Right. I told you everything's changed. Severus is really good to me now."

Ron grinned. "That's great, Harry." Abruptly he scowled at the window. "Why does it have to be raining? We need to go outside and practice some of these moves."

"You didn't bring a broomstick anyway," Hermione pointed out.

Ron waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Big place like this, there's bound to be a few extra broomsticks around. But Snape...sorry, Professor Snape probably wouldn't like it if we went outside in the rain. Mum never lets us at home, says we'll catch our death of cold. Bit silly, really. We play in the rain at Hogwarts, but oh, well..." he shrugged. "Next time I'll bring my Cleansweep."

"Okay," Harry nodded, and realised that a warm happy feeling had spread through his chest at the words next time.

The afternoon passed quickly. Harry and Ron pored over the Quidditch book, analysing moves and studying the diagrams, while Hermione found a book from the library and curled up on the window seat to read. Before Harry knew it, the clock was chiming four, and Zan brought up a plate of biscuits and cups of tea for them. After tea, it was time for Ron and Hermione to leave.

They went down to the front parlour to find Severus waiting.

"I trust you all had a pleasant visit," he said.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Thanks a lot, sir, for having us over," Ron added after a moment's hesitation.

"Perhaps you could come again next weekend, if you don't have other plans," Severus offered.

Harry beamed at him, and Ron and Hermione nodded. "We'd like that. Thank you."

It was decided that Ron would Floo back to the Burrow, and since the Grangers' house wasn't connected to the network, that Severus would take Hermione home by side-along Apparition.

Ron and Harry clasped hands and then Ron stepped into the fireplace and disappeared. Hermione gave Harry another hug and promised to see him again soon.

"If you're ready, Miss Granger, you may take my arm," Severus said, holding his arm out to her. Hermione looked a little uncertain, but she did as directed. Severus spun and they were gone.

Harry sat down on the gold-striped sofa to wait, and sure enough, within five minutes, there was a popping sound and Severus had reappeared.

"I must say that despite my previous convictions, your friends do seem to have been taught some manners," the professor commented as he came over to join Harry on the sofa.

"You never know, you might end up liking them, too," Harry told him, feeling more light-hearted than he had in a long time.

Severus just snorted at that idea, but seeing the relaxed expression on Harry's face, his own face softened. "I'm glad you had a good time with them."

Harry glanced at him and said a little shyly. "Thanks again. I know you probably didn't want to bring them here, but it was really great for me to see them. And thanks for telling them about everything. I was dreading that."

"I wasn't sure if that might have been a mistake," Severus admitted. "But I thought perhaps it was something that I could do for you. I knew you needed your friends."

He draped his arm on the back of the sofa and after a moment Harry cautiously leaned against him. Severus immediately shifted his arm to curl it around Harry's shoulders and they sat in companionable silence.

***

When Harry woke the next morning, the first thing he saw was another small gift-wrapped package sitting beside his glasses on his night table. He slid the glasses on and reached for the present. It was a blue bag with silver ribbons this time, and inside was a golden Snitch that fluttered its wings and began darting about his room.

Harry leaped out of bed and snatched at it. It took him several tries, but he finally grabbed it and stuffed it back inside the bag, laughing. Then he collected some clothes and headed off to the bathroom to shower and dress.

At breakfast, he turned to Severus. "Thanks for the Snitch. As soon as the rain lets up, I'm going to start practicing some of the moves from that book you gave me. Oh, and thanks for the chocolate frog yesterday, too."

Severus looked at him with a deadpan face and raised an eyebrow. "Snitches and sweets? You must be mistaken, Harry. Surely you know that I'm hardly the type to dispense frivolous gifts."

Harry wasn't fooled, but if Severus wanted to play that game, he decided that he could go along with him. He nodded. "Must be Hedwig, then."

"No doubt," Severus agreed dryly.

They ate a few more bites and then Harry took a deep breath. "Severus?"

The professor stopped eating and gave Harry his full attention. "What is it?"

"I've been thinking about what you said, about making a public statement for the reporters and how it would be better in the long run, and I guess I need to do that."

Severus laid his hand on top of Harry's. "Are you sure this is what you want to do?"

Harry shook his head. "I really just want them to leave me alone, but I want to be able to go out without it causing a big scene, too. If this is what I need to do to get people to give me some space, then I'll do it."

"I'll be right beside you," Severus promised. "And I'm sure Albus will be there too, if you want him. We won't let them pressure you, Harry. It'll be all right."

Harry bit his lip. "Is there any way they could find out about the spell, do you think?"

"I don't see how," Severus responded.

"Well, all right then. Let's do it."

After breakfast, they went to the parlour and spent the better part of the morning preparing the statement. Harry realised anew how clever Severus was. He knew just how to present the facts in a smooth, polished manner without giving away one extra bit of information.

"You're really a true Slytherin, Severus," Harry remarked. When the professor grew very still, he realised that his words could be interpreted as less than complimentary so he added anxiously, "I meant that in a good way. It's just that you're so clever."

Severus relaxed and smiled at him, though Harry thought his eyes still looked troubled. "Thank you, Harry. Slytherins can have some good qualities, you know."

Harry suddenly felt terrible, although he truly had meant his words as a compliment. "I know, sir. I didn't mean anything bad...I just..."

They were sitting together on the sofa and Severus pulled him close into a one-armed hug. "It's all right, Harry. I know what you meant. It just saddens me a bit that oftentimes others refuse to recognise that Slytherins can be decent people, too. And it makes me even more angry with Voldemort and his followers. I can't deny that unfortunately, a greater percentage of Death Eaters have come from Slytherin, but Voldemort did have supporters from the other three Houses as well."

"Like Peter Pettigrew," Harry said.

Severus nodded and held him closer. "Indeed. The truly sad fact is that there has been so much prejudice against Slytherin that even those who did not come from original Death Eater families were easy prey to his propaganda. Almost all young people wish for acceptance, to belong to a peer group, to have the approval of the adults in their lives. If they can't find it with one set of people, they'll search for it with another."

Harry looked up at him and asked softly, "Is that what happened with you?"

For a moment, he was afraid he'd overstepped the boundaries, that it was too personal a question, but then Severus made a sound that might have been a sigh or a wry little laugh.

"Is it that obvious? Perhaps I'm not as Slytherin as you think. But yes, that's basically the tale of how I fell into Voldemort's trap."

"I'm sorry," Harry said quietly.

Severus shook his head. "It was my choice," he said firmly. "And despite everything I just told you, I do believe that by the time a person is in their last years at school, they must accept responsibility for their own actions and not blame it on their past or on the actions of others. But it would be nice to see people give Slytherins a chance and not always assume the worst. Many of my youngsters in Slytherin have heavy burdens to overcome and a little acceptance could go a long way."

It was ridiculous, Harry thought, the way he felt a pang at Severus calling the Slytherins his youngsters.

But Severus was right, and Harry suddenly wanted to make him feel better. "I'll try harder to get along with the Slytherins this year, Severus, I promise."

Severus reached over to brush Harry's hair back from his forehead. "Thank you, Harry, but I also want you to be careful. I won't say it's too late for them...after all, I changed and I was several years out of school...but some of the older students have become hardened and I'm well aware that there is bad blood between you and them. Your safety and well-being is my top priority."

Well, that more than made up for him being possessive over the Slytherins. Harry felt that warm glow deep inside again. He leaned against Severus.

"I'll be careful, but I'll try if I can." Suddenly his face darkened. "Except for Malfoy. I hate him!"

Severus placed his hands on Harry's shoulders and looked into his eyes. "Harry, what Draco did to you is inexcusable and you do have every right to be angry. I'm angry with him myself. But hatred is a very damaging emotion and the person it will damage the most is you. Trust me, I know that better than anyone."

"But it's all his fault! I wouldn't be a slave if it weren't for him." Harry's voice shook.

Severus wrapped his arms around him and rubbed his back comfortingly. "But you also wouldn't have come to Prince Hall," he said softly. "I would have never discovered how wrong I was about you, and we wouldn't have each other."

Harry sniffed. "Are you saying that it's all right, what he did?"

"No, of course not," Severus said firmly. "I said that casting that spell against you was inexcusable, didn't I? Draco did a terrible thing to you. I'm not saying otherwise. But I am glad that you're here and that we're a family now. And I'm saying that if you let hatred into your heart, it will almost certainly end up hurting you and hurting other innocent people more than the object of your hatred. When your father and I were in the midst of our bitter feud, I never imagined it would eventually lead to my abusing an innocent child, and yet it did."

Harry was quiet for a while. Then he looked up. "So you think I could end up teaching little Malfoys and being mean to them one day?"

Severus rolled his eyes. "Probably not."

Harry sighed. "I guess I see what you're saying, Severus. But I don't know if I can not hate Malfoy after this."

"I have faith in you, Harry. You're a generous and compassionate person. There's no hatred in you." Severus kissed the top of his head, then sat back. "Now, I think we've done a pretty good job on this statement. Why don't we take it to Hogwarts and let Albus look over it, too?"

Harry wasn't sure if Severus were right about him. Whenever he thought of Draco Malfoy and how the other boy had enslaved him, he was pretty sure he felt some hatred. But he didn't want to discuss it anymore at the moment, so he just agreed and he and Severus left word for the elves before Flooing to Hogwarts.

It was still cloudy and raining when Harry woke in the morning two days later. He thought that the weather somewhat matched his mood, for today was the day he was going to give his statement to the Ministry officials and the reporters, and he wasn't looking forward to it one little bit. Harry took a deep breath and reminded himself that Severus and Dumbledore were going to be there with him and Severus had assured him that they didn't have to stay long. Dumbledore was going to speak briefly at first, then Harry, and then they could leave. It wouldn't be too bad, he told himself.

But still he had to admit that he'd feel a whole lot better once it was over.

To distract himself he turned to look over at his night table. Every morning now he received a small gift from ‘Hedwig', the brightly-wrapped little bags waiting beside his glasses when he woke. Besides the chocolate frog and the Snitch, he'd received a new quill and a pack of self-shuffling playing cards.

But this morning ‘Hedwig' had really outdone ‘herself'. A large flat package lay on the night table and when Harry opened it, a set of finely-woven charcoal grey robes were folded neatly inside. He lifted them out and held them up to examine them. They were similar to his school robes, but there were slight differences...these had several narrow side pleats and a collar. A simple, but nicely-made white dress shirt lay in the box underneath the robes, too.

A short time later, Harry had dressed in the shirt, grey trousers and socks and black loafers. He slipped his new robes on and studied his reflection in the mirror. He was still too short and skinny, but he didn't look quite as gaunt as he had earlier in the summer. His colour was better, too. He wasn't as pale and the dark shadows under his eyes had faded. His hair...well, he'd accepted long ago that his hair would always look a bit mussed even under the best circumstances. But he didn't look bad, actually.

He couldn't help smiling a little as he adjusted the collar on the robes. So this was what it was like to have someone who cared, not just about the big stuff like whether he lived or died, but about the small things, too, like making sure he had nice clothes that were appropriate for the occasion. Sometimes it still seemed mind-boggling that it was Severus Snape who had become his someone-who-cared, but he did trust the professor now. He wasn't sure exactly what it would be like when they were back at Hogwarts, but he did know things would be different between Severus and himself...at least he was pretty sure...mostly...he hoped.

Harry started downstairs for breakfast at the same instant that the professor came out of his own bedroom. Severus was dressed in black, of course, but his robes, too, were nicer than usual, with emerald and silver trim.

Harry smiled at him and held out his arms to better display the new robes. "Look what Hedwig gave me this morning."

Severus nodded approvingly. "I'm sure she wanted you to look nice when we go to the Ministry."

"I'm glad she did. I do have dress robes, you know, back from the Yule Ball in fourth-year, but I may have grown at least a little since then. I realised last night that I don't know if they still fit," Harry told him.

"We will need to get you a new set if you have outgrown your old ones," Severus replied. "But dress robes are usually worn only at very formal events. Most wizards have robes like these for occasions that require them to look professional, but are not as decorous."

"Well, I really appreciate it." Harry glanced at him and said softly, "I hope Hedwig knows that."

Severus lightly touched his shoulder. "I'm sure she does."

His pleasure over the new clothes had distracted Harry from thinking about the day's events, but at breakfast his nerves returned in full force and he could only nibble at a piece of toast.

"Harry, you need to eat more," Severus said quietly.

But just looking at the plate of food made Harry's stomach churn. "I don't think I can. I feel a bit queasy."

The professor reached for his hand and the knots in his stomach loosened slightly at the familiar comforting gesture.

"Now, what is so upsetting to you, child?" Severus asked. "I understand that speaking before reporters isn't something to look forward to, but all you have to do is read the statement. It won't take very long and I'll be with you. You've faced much worse than this. Where's your Gryffindor bravery?"

Harry shook his head. "I actually don't feel very brave a lot of the time. Sometimes I think the hat made a mistake placing me in Gryffindor."

Severus gently squeezed his fingers. "That's rubbish, Harry. You're the most courageous person I know." He raised an eyebrow and added dryly, "Just think of all the times you've rushed headlong into danger without sparing a thought for your own safety."

"But none of that was really me being brave," Harry said. "It's just that if someone is in danger and I can help...well, then I have to."

Severus looked at him intently. "What exactly do you think courage is, Harry?"

He shrugged. "I don't know...not being scared of stuff, I guess."

"Perhaps in one form, but true courage is having the strength to overcome fear," Severus told him.

"But I don't overcome it," Harry admitted. "I'm scared a lot of the time."

"You do not allow your fears to control your actions," Severus replied. "You do what you think is right even if you are frightened. You have the courage to face death. You've certainly proven that. But you have the courage to face life, too."

Harry looked down at their intertwined fingers, suddenly feeling close to tears for some reason. But Severus didn't give him time to dwell. The professor continued briskly.

"So tell me, Harry, why are you so upset about speaking this morning?"

Harry thought carefully, trying to decide exactly what it was that bothered him so.

Finally he said, "I don't know. It's just seems like reporters are always twisting what I say and trying to make me look bad so everyone will be against me."

"Unfortunately that was true for a while," Severus answered. "But you were vindicated by the end of the year, and now everyone is quite wild for you. I don't think the reporters will try to make you look bad this time, and considering that you've freed us all from Voldemort, I certainly don't think that people are going to turn against you, whatever the papers print."

"I hope so."

It doesn't really matter what the public thinks, anyway," Severus assured him. "You have people who care for you and will stand with you, no matter what. You have your friends and you have more. You have a home and a family now, too. Harry, you don't have to face anything alone ever again."

Harry swallowed hard and let himself hold onto Severus' hand. "Thank you."

"You do not have to thank me," the professor told him. "I am the fortunate one here."

They were quiet for a few minutes and then Severus spoke more crisply. "Now, do you think you could eat a bit before we leave?"

Harry ate a few more bites of toast before setting the half-eaten slice of bread down and looking at him apologetically. "I'm just not very hungry, Severus."

The professor sighed. "Well, I suppose it's time to be on our way, anyhow. I do expect you to have more for lunch, though," he added sternly.

Harry nodded silently. He remained silent when Norie and Zan came to wish him luck, though he did give them a brief, nervous smile. Severus handed him a piece of parchment on which they'd written the statement and Harry folded it and slipped it into an inside pocket of his robes. Then he and Severus left.

They had received special permission to Floo into the Prime Minister's office...Harry remembered gratefully that Fudge had been forced to resign a few days ago; his popularity had declined sharply back in June once people had realised that Voldemort had indeed returned, and the fact that he had empowered Delores Umbridge who had recently been accused of abusing Hogwarts' students had been the final nail in the coffin of his political career.

Severus had said that Amelia Bones was the new Minister of Magic and Harry was glad of it. He remembered her from his hearing about performing underage magic a year ago. She had been stern and forbidding, but fair-minded. He thought that she would be a better Minister than Fudge had ever been.

She and Dumbledore were waiting when they stepped out of the fireplace into her office...a large room, but rather sparsely furnished, Harry thought, considering she was now the single most powerful person within the Ministry. Amelia Bones was a short, rather stocky woman with graying hair and a monocle. She wore plain black in sharp contrast to the headmaster's sparkling sapphire-blue robes. They had been seated in a pair of armchairs, apparently chatting amiably, but when Harry and Severus arrived, they stood and Madam Bones came forward to shake hands in a straightforward manner.

"Professor Snape, Mr. Potter, it's very good of you to meet with us this morning. Mr. Potter, if I may, I would like to offer you my sincere congratulations and gratitude for the defeat of Voldemort. We are all in your debt."

Harry felt himself turning red. "Um, thank you very much, ma'am."

Severus nodded politely. "Madam Bones."

"If you'll forgive me, Mr. Potter," Madam Bones continued, sounding slightly less formal. "There were rumors that you were injured in the battle and had to stay at St. Mungo's for a few days. I hope you're feeling better now."

"Yes, ma'am, I'm fine." Harry risked giving her a tiny smile. "And Madam Bones, thank you for listening to my side last year at that hearing."

But the Minister shook her head. "Nonsense, Mr. Potter. You don't have to thank me for upholding the law and trying to see that your rights weren't violated. The entire thing was ridiculous, anyway...a full trial for underage magic, but Fudge always was ridiculous. Good riddance to him. And as for Delores Umbridge...well, seeing as I'm sitting at her trial next week, I'd best keep my personal opinions to myself."

Dumbledore greeted them next and then Madam Bones ushered them from her office, saying, "Well, if you'll come this way, I'm sure all the reporters are eagerly awaiting us."

Harry's stomach clenched painfully again as he, Severus, and Dumbledore followed her out into a larger lobby and down the hall to a lift. Several assistants leaped up from desks and started to accompany them as well, but Madam Bones waved them back to their work, and it was only the four of them who stepped into the lift.

Harry bit his lip and stared down at the carpet as the lift carried them down, but then Severus reached over and gave his hand a light reassuring squeeze and when Harry looked up, Dumbledore caught his eye and smiled and nodded. It helped to know that they were with him and as the lift came to a halt and a disembodied female voice announced coolly that they were at the Atrium, Harry lifted his chin, squared his shoulders, and followed the others with an outward air of calm.

Almost the instant he came into view he was blinded by the bright light of dozens of camera flashes going off all at once. There was a loud rumble of excited voices and then he could see that he, Severus, Dumbledore, and Madam Bones were standing on a raised platform while reporters crowded around below. It seemed like there were hundreds of them, though Harry knew in reality there couldn't possibly be. There weren't that many wizarding newspapers.

Madam Bones cast a Sonorous spell on herself and stepped forward. The reporters grew still and began taking notes as she welcomed them. She spoke only for a few minutes and then introduced Dumbledore.

"Good morning. I would like to thank you all for coming," he began. "As you know, we're here this morning because Harry has agreed to explain to everyone exactly what happened in Diagon Alley on the afternoon of July31st. But before he does, I would like to remind you of the conditions we've set. Harry is going to read his statement, and then he and Professor Snape will be leaving. If you have any questions, and I'm sure you will," he smiled good-naturedly at the reporters. "I shall do my best to answer them afterwards. Now, if you please..."

"Excuse me," one older wizard called out. "There is one matter that I believe is quite important for us all. Not to diminish Mr. Potter's achievement in the slightest, if he has indeed defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named again, then we're all extremely grateful to him, but how do we know that this victory is permanent? I mean, Mr. Potter drove him away once before, as a small child, only to have the dark wizard return thirteen years later. Is it possible that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named will return again?"

"No, it is not possible," Dumbledore replied. "Voldemort was able to return to his physical body a year ago because he did not die back in 1981. We all know of Voldemort's atrocities and his complete disregard for the sanctity of life. I'm sure none of you will be surprised to learn that he experimented with some of the darkest and most evil magic known to us. For many years, ever since the autumn of 1981 in fact, I have painstakingly searched for information about Voldemort and his activities. I can assure you that I have learned far more of his heinous deeds than anyone would wish to know. But through my research I did find the answer to how Voldemort seemed to conquer death. How many of you have ever heard of a horcrux?"

Some of the reporters looked horrified while others simply seemed puzzled. There was an outbreak of voices while they either exclaimed in revulsion or tried to find out what the fuss was over. Dumbledore waited a moment before continuing.

"If you have not heard before, a horcrux is a vessel in which a piece of soul may be stored. If one has created a horcrux, then one cannot die, at least not so long as the horcrux exists, for whatever happens to the body, part of the soul remains undamaged. But the creation of a horcrux is very difficult. The enchantments are in themselves complex and require power such as few wizards possess. But even more, to create a horcrux a wizard must commit the supreme act of evil...the murder of an innocent person."

The same reporter who had spoken before called again, looking shaken. "And He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had created a horcrux?"

"It's perfectly all right to call him by name now," Dumbledore responded. "And yes, Voldemort had created a horcrux, or more accurately, he had created two."

There was another loud buzz of conversation. Dumbledore waited it out and then went on.

"Yes, I was fortunate enough to discover some of Voldemort's secret notes, and from reading them, it was obvious that at a young age, he had become enamored with the idea of creating a three-part soul. He believed three was a magical number that would somehow endow him with even more powers. So during the first war in the 1970s he made two horcruxes and the third piece of soul resided within his own body."

Dumbledore spoke more firmly than ever. "I am most pleased to inform you that both of Voldemort's horcruxes have been destroyed. Harry did away with one when he was only a second-year student at Hogwarts. With his permission, I will give you the full story after he's spoken." Dumbledore glanced over at Harry, who nodded at him. "I myself destroyed the other earlier this summer. I must add that I was grievously injured in the process and that if not for the quick actions and prodigious skill of Poppy Pomfrey and Severus Snape, I would have died. It is thanks to them that I am fully recovered. But both horcruxes were destroyed before the attack on Diagon Alley so there was nothing to tie Voldemort to life this time. I can assure you that he is indeed gone forever now."

More chatter erupted at this pronouncement and it was several long moments before Dumbledore spoke again. "Now I'll let Harry speak and I will ask you once again to please respect his wishes and hold any questions for me later."

Dumbledore moved over and Harry stepped forward, slipping the parchment from his pocket and trying to ignore the queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Then he realised that Severus had stepped forward with him, staying right beside him, just as he'd promised. It gave him a warm cozy feeling, in spite of his nerves, and in that first awful moment when he was standing there and everyone was staring and waiting for him to speak, it was only Severus' presence that gave him the confidence to begin.

Harry fixed his eyes on the parchment, though he really didn't need to...he knew the statement by heart...but it was easier to look at the paper than out at the sea of faces watching him.

"Um, good morning and...um, thank you again for coming. I...would like to explain exactly how Voldemort died and thank everyone for their support and concern for me when I was injured. I'm very happy that Voldemort is gone, but I don't feel that I deserve the credit for defeating him. My mother, Lily Potter, is truly the one who conquered him. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time."

"You see, Professor Snape had taken me to Diagon Alley for my birthday. I've been staying with him this summer because it seemed inevitable that Voldemort would try to attack me again at some point and Professor Snape is an expert in Defense Against the Dark Arts. So he's been instructing me and helping me prepare. But for my birthday, he was going to take me to Diagon Alley. We disguised ourselves with Polyjuice Potion to be safe and we'd spent part of the day there. In fact, we were about to leave because our last dose of Polyjuice was about to wear off when Voldemort and the Death Eaters came."

At that point, a voice that was only too familiar interrupted. "Excuse me, Mr. Potter, but isn't it rather unusual for a student to spend the entire holiday with a professor? And incidently, isn't Professor Snape the Potions instructor at Hogwarts? Surely there was someone more qualified in Defense that could have instructed you?"

Harry tore his eyes away from the parchment to see Rita Skeeter standing almost directly below them. Her hair was still set in rigid curls and her jeweled spectacles were perched precariously on the end of her nose. She wore bright poisonous-green robes and was gazing up at him with a false air of innocence and curiosity, but Harry had no doubts that her intentions were malicious.

"Um," he began uncertainly.

Beside him, he could feel Severus stiffen and could sense his fury. The professor started to speak, but before he could, Dumbledore had stepped forward.

"Professor Snape is man of many talents. He is one of the foremost Potions Masters in Europe, but he is also gifted in Defense. To answer your first question, yes, it is unusual for a student to stay with a professor over the holidays. It is also unusual for a student to have been personally singled out by Voldemort himself. We did what we felt was in Harry's best interests."

The headmaster's voice had been cool, but now it positively crackled with anger and authority. "Now, may I remind you, Ms. Skeeter, that you agreed to our conditions before entering the Ministry this morning, and that by attempting to question Harry, you have violated that agreement. If you do so again, you will be escorted from the premises."

Rita Skeeter's eyes narrowed, but she remained silent. Harry took a deep breath and continued describing the battle of Diagon Alley, how he and Severus had been separated (he left out the part about rescuing the little boy because it sounded too much like boasting), how the Polyjuice potion had worn off and Voldemort had recognised Severus, how he had tortured him because Severus had been a spy for Dumbledore and the Order, how Harry had come upon the scene and had challenged him, and finally how they had confronted one another and how his mother's protection had saved him again.

"So you see, it really wasn't me. I don't deserve the credit for defeating Voldemort. It was my mother who saved us all." Harry hesitated. It wasn't in the statement, but he felt that he needed to say something else, too. He swallowed hard and forced himself to look out at the reporters.

"I...I want to say that I think my father James Potter deserves some credit, too. He was really brave and he sacrificed his life to try to save my mother and me. And I know that my parents aren't the only ones. There are a lot of other people who have died or risked their lives fighting against evil. Professor Snape is one of them. He was a spy for our side and he helped to save a lot of innocent people. And there are a lot of others, too, like Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt and the Weasleys, and lots more, too. And I hope that everyone will remember them and honour them because these people are the real heroes."

A burst of applause broke out and Harry could only stare blankly at the reporters as they clapped and cheered for him. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to find Severus looking down at him with his black eyes warm with emotion. Harry had to smile at him.

It was easy to finish after that. When the applause dwindled, Harry said, "I know that there have been rumours that I was injured in the battle, and they're true. After Voldemort died, Bellatrix Lestrange cast a curse against me and I was hospitalised for two days. I want to thank the Healers and the staff at St. Mungo's, as well as everyone who sent me gifts and well-wishes. I appreciate it very much."

"Before I go, there is one last thing I need to say, and it's a bit awkward because I have to ask a favour from everyone. But for the past couple years my life has been very stressful. Now that Voldemort is gone, I'm hoping that everything can settle down, and I would be very grateful if people would allow me to have a quiet life from now on. I'm really just a normal kid, and I'd like to be able to have a normal life now. Thank you."

There was more applause and Madam Bones shook his hand and thanked him. Dumbledore beamed at him and then Severus guided him back into the lift. A few minutes they'd Flooed away from the Ministry, with Harry breathing a huge sigh of relief that this little publicity stunt was over.

They went back to Prince Hall, exiting from the fireplace in Severus' upstairs sitting room. Dumbledore had invited them to come to Hogwarts after the press conference, but Harry hadn't wanted to. It had struck Severus that it was the first time Harry had preferred Prince Hall to Hogwarts and he'd felt pleased, even though he was also a little concerned, knowing that the boy had always loved the school. But surely that was in large part because Hogwarts had been the closest thing to a home he'd ever had. Now that Harry had a real home at Prince Hall, it was only natural that his attachment to Hogwarts would begin to lessen, wasn't it?

Thinking of the fact that Harry's relatives had never provided him with love or security reminded Severus that they still needed to discuss the Dursleys. From his own brief visit to Privet Drive and the sketchy medical reports he'd gotten from Poppy he'd already deduced that they had been abusive even before he'd seen the old scars on Harry's back. Remembering that sight made Severus' blood boil, but he took a deep breath and pushed the anger away. The Dursleys would be brought to justice, one way or another, eventually. Severus had promised both Harry and himself, and he intended to keep that promise.

But right now, seeing the mingled exhaustion and anxiety on the boy's thin face, Severus decided that it wasn't the best time to mention the Dursleys.

"You were magnificent, Harry," he said, taking a seat on the sofa and motioning for the boy to join him.

Harry curled up in the corner of the sofa, his robes billowing as he drew his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. A defensive position, Severus noted, that Harry seemed to take when he felt sad or vulnerable, as if he were subconsciously trying to comfort or protect himself.

He flashed Severus a quick smile of thanks at the words, but it faded immediately and then he seemed tired and uneasy again.

"What's wrong?" Severus asked. "I thought you'd be relieved now that that's over."

"I am. It's just that I keep worrying that they'll find out about the spell. Rita Skeeter was already suspicious." Harry looked at Severus with anxious eyes.

"Ms. Skeeter is always on the hunt for a scandal, but I imagine she would have a difficult time discovering the spell." Severus personally thought that Draco Malfoy was the one they ought to be worried about, since he did know the actual incantation of the spell. He might not know what it meant, and it would be difficult for him to decipher, but it would not be impossible for him to do so. But it probably wasn't the right time to mention that to Harry either.

As it turned out, though, Harry was thinking along those lines, too.

"Malfoy could figure it out, couldn't he?"

Severus hesitated, but he didn't want to lie, even in the guise of offering comfort. "I suppose so," he admitted. But then seeing the look on Harry's face, he had to try to reassure him. "But it would be quite difficult for him. Albus has kept the book where he found the spell, and Draco would have to find some very rare texts on archaic languages and then spend hours translating, and this is assuming he remembers the incantation."

"He remembers," Harry said flatly.

Severus sighed. "Yes, I'm sure he does."

Harry looked away, biting his lip, and Severus had to try again. "But there's no real reason for Draco to attempt to decipher the spell. Albus told him you'd made a full recovery and it's quite likely that Draco believes the spell only had some temporary effect that has now completely worn off."

Harry swallowed hard and was silent for a few minutes, thinking it over. Then he said, "But won't he start to wonder when I'm living in your quarters instead of in the Gryffindor dorms?"

"We're going to say that you're still recovering from the curse Bellatrix Lestrange cast against you, that you have to take potions every night and be closely monitored. That should be sufficient explanation for your presence in my rooms," Severus responded.

Harry considered the ruse. "That sounds good. I think people will buy it," he finally nodded.

"Yes," Severus agreed. He studied Harry thoughtfully for a moment before saying, "But if people should happen to discover the truth..."

"They can't!"

"It would not be the end of the world," Severus continued firmly.

"Yes, it would!" Harry shook his head wildly. "How would you like for everyone to know you were a slave, if it were you?"

"I would hate it," Severus admitted. "I do understand how you feel, Harry. But I need you to try to understand that even if the public found out that the people who know you and care for you would stand by your side and help you through it."

Harry looked away, visibly upset. Severus reached over to rest a hand on his shoulder.

"What concerns me is that I believe the reason you're so distraught is because you feel inferior, as you told me the other day," Severus said softly. "And I can't bear for you to feel like that. Am I right, Harry? You told me then that you felt as if you weren't as good as others. Isn't that a large part of why you're so adamant about wanting to keep the spell a secret? You're afraid other people would see you as inferior, too?"

Tears rolled down Harry's cheeks and he bowed his head, hiding his face against his knees, until Severus moved closer and gathered him into his arms. Then he buried his face against Severus' shoulder as the professor held him close, one hand gently curling around the back of his neck

"Harry, shh, it's all right," Severus murmured. "It's just that you're such a good person. Can't you see it? You're caring and thoughtful and kind. I am amazed at how generous and forgiving you are. And I want you to realise what a great person you are, too."

But Harry shook his head and mumbled, "You're just saying that."

Severus sat back a little so he could look the boy in the eye. He arched an eyebrow. "Harry, how likely is it that I would ‘just say' something like that?"

Harry had to laugh a choked, little laugh, in spite of his tears. "Not very," he had to admit.

"Quite right. So you can be certain that I do mean it."

Harry averted his eyes and Severus hid a sigh. He knew it would take time to convince him. Harry had probably suffered from low self-esteem issues for most of his life, considering that he'd been raised in an abusive family, and now the slavery spell had compounded it a hundredfold. The miracle was that Harry had somehow survived and had not let himself become hostile and angry. Severus knew firsthand how easy it was to succumb to bitterness. But Harry truly was a wonderful person and Severus was determined that he would come to see that, too.

But it would take time.

He carded his fingers through Harry's hair. "I know that you've heard many harsh and derogatory comments about yourself for years, child, some of them from me. I am very sorry for all the things I've said and done in the past that have hurt you. I just wish there were a way that I could erase those things. But Harry, I did come to see how wrong I was this past summer. Why do you think that happened?"

Harry looked bewildered and uncertain. He opened his mouth, then closed it.

Severus decided not to make him answer. "Because I got to know you, the real you, not just a false image I had created in my own mind, and I saw that I'd been wrong about you. And believe me, Harry, it was not an easy thing for me to admit that I'd misjudged and mistreated you so badly. But you are such a wonderful person that I finally couldn't deny it any longer. Think about that when you are tempted to feel badly about yourself."

Harry hesitated, but finally gave a small nod. Severus hugged him close again and Harry leaned against him.

"But Severus, what if people do find out?"

"Then we will get through it...together," Severus replied quietly but firmly.

Harry sniffed and Severus could tell he was fighting tears again. He gently patted Harry's back and said softly. "Calm down, child. We will do everything possible to keep it secret, and if people should happen to discover the spell and things became too hard for you, we could always come back here to Prince Hall."

The boy looked up at him with sudden eager hope. "Really?"

For a second, Severus wondered if he'd spoken too rashly. Allowing Harry to virtually hide from the world at Prince Hall might not be the best thing for him in the long run, but Harry was looking at him so hopefully that Severus found he couldn't say no. Besides, there was a very good chance that Harry was getting in a fuss for nothing. It was quite possible that the spell would never be discovered anyway.

So he nodded. "Yes, if you want." Then, deciding that it was time to change the subject, he added, "Now, as I recall, you didn't eat much breakfast. Why don't we ask Norie to bring us some refreshments? I certainly think we've earned a treat."

A few minutes later, they were settling down to a mid-morning snack when green flames shot high in the fireplace and Albus came through. He had been invited back to Prince Hall once he had finished fielding questions from the reporters, but they hadn't known exactly when to expect him.

"Ah, Albus, we were just about to have some tea and cakes. Would you care for some?" Severus asked, gesturing for the headmaster to sit in one of the armchairs and conjuring a plate and cup for him.

"Thank you, Severus. That sounds delightful." Albus took his seat and smiled at them. "I thought our little press conference went rather well."

Harry still didn't seem entirely at ease, but his smile was a little more relaxed. "Thank you for being there with me, sir."

"You're very welcome, Harry. I was happy to be there for you," Albus told him. He paused and added, "I'm sorry that I've let you down so many times in the past."

"It's all right."

"No, it isn't," Albus told him. "But I will try to make up for it from now on, if it's not too late."

Harry just smiled at him again, seeming unsure of what to say. He was quiet as Severus and Albus discussed the morning's events. But the conversation soon turned to the upcoming school year.

"So when will the two of you be returning to Hogwarts?" Albus asked and Severus realised with a pang of regret that it would be time to leave the Hall soon. Of course he'd known that it was the middle of August, but somehow he hadn't thought about summer ending just yet. He didn't really mind being at Hogwarts. The school had been a refuge for him as well as for Harry.

But he didn't particularly enjoy teaching...maybe a few of the brighter students who actually had a talent for Potions, but most of the children had no appreciation for the subtle art that was his passion and no desire to learn it. They endured Severus and he endured them.

Becoming a professor had not been his life's ambition, most definitely. It had been a necessity, ever since he'd left Voldemort and gone to Albus for help and protection. But now...

It dawned on Severus that for perhaps the first time in his life he was free to choose his own path. If he didn't want to teach, he no longer had to. He no longer needed a cover for spying. He no longer needed Albus' protection, at least not in the same way. He could finally fulfill a long-time, once abandoned dream of devoting himself to Potions research...

He happened to glance over at Harry then and realised abruptly that no, he couldn't, at least not yet. He needed to stay at Hogwarts for two more years, long enough for Harry to finish his education there.

But that was all right. He loved Harry and he wanted to be there for him. Harry had given him everything, after all, including this newfound freedom.

Severus was struck anew at how unjust the whole situation was. They had to find a way to liberate him from that slavery spell. It would have been horribly wrong for anyone to have to live under it, but for Harry to suffer...Harry, who had given so much and done so much for everyone else...

He was ashamed, too, that only a few short weeks ago he would have been reluctant to free the boy. But not because he actually wanted Harry to be a slave. He didn't and never had. He'd just been afraid of losing the boy he'd grown to love so much.

But then he'd come so close to losing him anyway, to death, and he'd realised then how much Harry was hurting. And he'd known that if there were some way to free the boy, he would have to do it. He couldn't claim to love Harry and still subject him to the slavery spell, even if freedom meant that Harry would leave.

But lately, he'd begun to hope that Harry just might stay with him after all, even if he did have a choice. Harry had said that he loved Severus, and he seemed to be more comfortable with him. Perhaps even if he could be freed, Harry would still want them to be a family, too.

Of course, there was the little matter of finding a way to lift the curse.

Well, that was another reason for him to stay at Hogwarts. He would have more time to work with Albus on locating or developing a counter-spell if he were at the school. And they would find something. They had to.

Severus realised suddenly that both Harry and Albus were waiting for him to answer. "Oh, I suppose we'll return within a week or so. I need to be back a few days before classes begin. Speaking of which, we haven't bought all of Harry's supplies yet. Albus, do you think we would be mobbed if we went back to Diagon Alley before school resumes?"

"As I'm not a Seer, Severus, I'm not really sure," Albus replied lightly. "I would hope though that people will respect Harry's wishes. You could always give it a try and leave if it doesn't go well."

"Hmm, perhaps. What do you think, Harry?" Severus turned to the boy.

He slowly nodded. "We could try..." he began. Then an idea occurred to him. "Oh, Severus, do you think we could go with the Weasleys and Hermione? They haven't bought their school supplies either."

Severus just barely kept himself from grimacing. He knew that Harry needed his friends, and he'd accepted the idea of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger coming to visit now and again. He wasn't exactly thrilled about it, but they made Harry happy and so he would tolerate them. He even had to admit that they'd been surprisingly polite and pleasant when they'd come. Of course he knew Harry would see a lot of them at Hogwarts and that was all right, too.

But he didn't like the idea of Harry being around the Weasley family as a whole. Harry's friends were just teenagers, but if Arthur, Molly, and all those older Weasley offspring were included...well, they were a family and a family that had wanted and included Harry long before Severus had grown to love him.

"We shall have to see," he answered. Something in his tone must have conveyed his disapproval because Harry's face fell, and of course Severus couldn't bear that.

"Perhaps, if they're agreeable to the idea as well," he amended and in spite of his reservations, he was touched when Harry gave him a genuine smile.

"Have you decided which courses you're going to take? You'll need to do that before you buy supplies," Albus pointed out.

"Mostly, I think," Harry replied.

They spent the next half hour discussing various classes and professors before Albus left to return to the school.

***

That evening Harry sat on his bed, surrounded by class lists and the career guides that Professor McGonagall had distributed towards the end of the last school term. He'd told Dumbledore that he had a fairly good idea of which courses he was going to take, and for the most part that was true.

If he wanted to be an Auror, he'd need to study Defense, naturally, and Transfiguration, Charms, and Potions. But there were still a couple of classes where he had a choice, and he just wasn't sure which would prove to be more important to him.

History of Magic could be...if Binns ever did anything besides drone on about the goblin rebellions. If he would tell them about dark wizards from the past and the ways that they'd been captured or killed, that might be something Harry would need to know. But Binns hadn't made it beyond goblins in the past five years and Harry doubted he would in the next two.

Then there was Herbology. Harry liked Professor Sprout and he'd always rather enjoyed her classes, too, not to mention Professor McGonagall had said that Herbology could be useful to an Auror...but according to the class lists, it was scheduled at the same time as Charms, which was a requirement for an Auror.

As for Care of Magical Creatures, well, Harry had to admit that as fond as he was of Hagrid, he'd rarely enjoyed Hagrid's classes, and he couldn't wait to drop Divination.

There were a couple of other subjects that he just wasn't sure of, either, and he'd spent the past hour alternately reading through the Auror career guide and the schedules and course offerings from Hogwarts. But he still didn't know what to take.

What he really needed was someone to talk with, someone who could help and advise him. The obvious person was Severus, and Harry had started to go to him a couple of times. He didn't think the professor would mind, but still it was so hard to go and ask him for help. Severus was a busy man and Harry didn't want to bother him or be a nuisance. He was sixteen, after all. He should be able to figure out a few simple things on his own.

But it would be nice to have someone to guide him, someone like a parent.

Harry looked at his door and bit his lip. Severus had said that he wanted Harry to come to him if he had any problems. But this wasn't really a problem, just something he could use a little help with. After a long time, he slowly gathered up his papers and left his room.

Severus was in his sitting room, reclining in a chair and reading a book. Harry paused in the doorway, suddenly reminded of times when he was little and had gone to his aunt or uncle for help. That had only happened a few times. He'd learned very quickly that he was better off keeping quiet and out of sight, even if meant he had to try to solve everything on his own.

But Severus wasn't like Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. He wouldn't get angry if Harry interrupted him, would he?

But what if he did?

Harry almost slipped away back to his room again, but Severus must have sensed his presence and looked up.

"Harry? Did you need something?"

"Um..., not really." He ducked his head and felt himself turning red.

"Come in," Severus immediately got up from his chair and moved to the sofa, gesturing for Harry to join him.

Harry reluctantly took a few steps into the room, mumbling, "Sorry, I didn't mean to bother you. It's nothing, really."

"Harry, you're not bothering me. I'm very pleased that you came," Severus said softly. "Now, are those the class schedules from Hogwarts?"

"Um, yeah, I mean yes. There's a couple classes where I can choose, and I wasn't sure what to take, and I thought maybe..., but I could come back later if you're busy," Harry finished swiftly, halfway turning to leave.

Severus was at his side in an instant. "Harry, I would love to help, and I'm never too busy for you. Thank you for coming to me. Let's sit down and go through it all."

He guided Harry over to the sofa and they sat down, spreading the sheets of parchment on a little table before them. Severus glanced over the Auror requirements and then began perusing the schedules.

"Hmm, you definitely will need Herbology. I'm sure this time conflict is an oversight. Both Charms and Herbology are necessary for Healers and for several other careers besides Aurors. You won't be the only NEWT student who needs both. We'll speak with Pomona and Filius when we return. Now about Care of Magical Creatures..."

A short time later it was all settled. Harry was going to take Defense, Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, and Herbology (assuming they could work the timing out, which Severus seemed certain they could). Harry had one other period for a class, but Severus recommended that he use that time for independent study.

"You're right. There really aren't any other classes that would be much use to you," the professor said. "Arithmancy or Ancient Runes might have come in handy, but it's too late for you to pick them up at this point, I think. Sometimes examiners are wary of independent studies, because some students don't put in much effort, but we could have you study advanced defense with Albus and myself and we'll have your coursework well-documented. I think you'll be fine doing that."

As they arranged the parchment in neat stacks, Harry looked over and said quietly, "Thank you for helping me, Severus."

The professor placed an arm around his shoulders and gave him a gentle squeeze. "I was glad to, Harry. I mean that."

"Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia hated for me to bother them with anything," Harry said hesitantly. "They always had time to do stuff with Dudley, but they hated me. The first time the vacuum cleaner bag needed changing, I didn't know how to do it and it was hard reading the instructions. I was pretty little then and just learning to read and there were a lot of big words in the instruction manuel. So I went to Aunt Petunia to ask her to help me. I thought she wouldn't mind since she wanted the house to be clean and I was trying to vacuum, like she'd told me. But she got angry with me for disturbing her, and Uncle Vernon heard me asking for help, too."

His voice trailed off, remembering how his aunt and uncle had screamed at him for being a stupid idiot who couldn't do anything right, who was always causing trouble and couldn't earn his keep, who wasn't fit to live with decent people. Uncle Vernon had slapped him a few times, too.

"What happened?" Severus asked quietly.

Harry hesitated, but finally just shook his head. He wasn't ready to talk about the Dursleys. "He didn't like it either."

Severus was very still. Then he said more softly than ever. "I love you, and I want to help you. Always."

Harry gave him a shy smile. "Thank you."

He started to gather up the papers, saying, "I'll go put these away."

But Severus simply moved them to the side. "Let's just put them over here and we can play some chess before bed."

Harry nodded and leaned against him for a moment. "That would be fun."

So Severus summoned the chess board and they played a long and intense match well into the night. It was close to midnight before they finally called a halt.

Harry was smiling as he headed back to his room across the hall.

The Weasleys were, of course, thrilled at the idea of going to Diagon Alley together. So the Saturday following the press conference Harry and Severus left for London immediately after breakfast.

They had planned to meet at the Leaky Cauldron, but the Weasleys had not yet arrived when Harry and Severus stepped out of the fireplace into the rather dark and shabby pub. It reminded Harry of the momentous morning just over three weeks ago when they had come here for his birthday. But this time they weren't disguised by polyjuice. Harry was a little nervous, wondering how people would react to him. He hoped that everyone would just treat him normally and leave him pretty much alone, but he had a feeling that he'd receive at least a little attention.

Sure enough, once customers inside the bar recognised him, they had to come over to shake hands and speak with him. Fortunately, at this early hour, there weren't many people there, but there was an elderly woman and a young couple with several small children, as well as old Tom, the bartender.

"And to think, ye came right through here that morning an' I never knew," he remarked, almost as if he were scolding them.

Harry smiled. "I wanted to say hello, but at that time it wasn't very safe for Severus or me to be out, so we had to use the polyjuice."

"Oh, a'course, a'course." Tom went back to his work, shaking his head slightly and still muttering, "an' I never knew..."

To Harry's embarrassment, the elderly woman insisted on thanking him profusely for ridding the world of Voldemort, while the young mother kept telling the children, "This is Harry Potter." in an awed tone and the father asked if Harry would pose for a photograph with them.

"Um..., I guess so." Harry was embarrassed, but he thought it would be awfully rude to refuse. A photograph was a little thing and it seemed to mean a lot to them. So he waited patiently while the mother urged the youngsters to stand beside him...the littlest girl was hardly more than a baby and she didn't seem at all inclined to leave her mother's side to stand with a strange boy...and the father pulled a tiny camera from his pocket, enlarged it, and began clicking away.

Just when Harry was beginning to wonder how many pictures he planned to take, Severus stepped forward and spoke smoothly.

"It's been a pleasure, but Mr. Potter and I must be..."

"Oh, you're Professor Snape from Hogwarts." The father exclaimed. "I went to school in Australia, but you taught my younger brother...Tad O'Neill, Hufflepuff...do you remember him? He said you were quite the martinet, actually." He chuckled, seemingly oblivious to Severus' cool stare. "Well, since you're with Mr. Potter, how about a picture of the two of you together?"

"I think not," Severus began, but the man was already snapping another photograph before he could finish.

Severus gave him a decidedly fierce look. "If you'll excuse us, we do have plans."

His tone of voice left no room for argument and the little crowd faded away, leaving Harry and the professor alone.

"Well, it appears that people might not allow you peace and quiet," Severus said quietly. "Are you all right, Harry? Do you want to stay?"

Harry looked into his concerned face and it struck him again how much things had changed between them. At one time, not so very long ago, Severus would have believed that Harry basked in his fame, that he was a spoiled, attention-seeking prat.

But now he understood.

Harry smiled at him as he considered. He really didn't like the attention, but the people had been nice about it and he did want to see the Weasleys and Hermione again.

So he nodded and said, "Yeah, I want to stay. It's all right."

The Weasley family chose that moment to begin arriving, tumbling from the fireplace one after another, first Mrs. Weasley, then Ginny, then Mr. Weasley, and finally Ron with Hermione in tow.

Mrs. Weasley rushed right over and hugged Harry close, then stepped back to gaze at him searchingly. "Harry, dear, are you all right?"

Harry wasn't sure how to answer her. He still felt almost overwhelmed with sadness sometimes...because of the slavery spell, because he missed his parents and Sirius, because it was his fault that Sirius had died. Then there were times when he felt a bit better, mainly when he was with Severus and felt loved and wanted, though that sounded so corny he knew he could never say it aloud. He wasn't sure that he was all right, exactly, but he supposed he was better than he had been earlier in the summer.

Then, even though it was ridiculous, he felt almost disturbed at that thought, almost as if he didn't want to be better. But how could he ever accept being a slave? And if he felt better, wasn't that like accepting it?

And more, how could he even think of being happy when Sirius was dead? Because he still missed his godfather, terribly, so much that he could scarcely bear to even think about him.

It was all so confusing, but he couldn't tell Mrs. Weasley any of it. She was already starting to look anxious, so Harry hurried to reassure her. "Yes, thank you, Mrs. Weasley. I'm fine now."

She continued to study him closely, as if she weren't convinced by his answer. But then Ron, Hermione, and Ginny rushed over and surrounded him and she let it go.

The girls hugged him, and he and Ron sort of clapped each other on the back. Then Mr. Weasley came over to rest a hand on his shoulder. He didn't ask how Harry was doing, but just commented that they were all so happy that he had survived the confrontation with Voldemort and was out of the hospital.

"Thank you, sir," Harry said quietly.

"If there is anything that we can do to help, anything at all, you know you can count on us," Mr. Weasley told him, but before Harry could do more than swallow hard and nod, he had turned away. "Severus, it's good to see you again, too."

The adults shook hands and exchanged pleasantries, the Weasley parents exuberant as always, and Severus polite, but obviously reserved and distant.

Harry watched them for a few seconds, then turned back to his friends.

"Are your parents going to come, Hermione?" he asked. Sometimes the Grangers accompanied their daughter and sometimes they didn't.

Hermione shook her head. "No, they wanted to, but one of Dad's patients called this morning with an abcessed tooth and was in a lot of pain, so he had to go in to work, and Mum's come down with a terrible head cold and didn't feel up to it. So I just came with Ron and Ginny."

They chatted for a couple more minutes and then Mrs. Weasley remarked that as they had a lot to do, they'd best be on their way. So they trooped out of the Leaky Cauldron, squinting as they left the dimly-lit interior and moved into bright sunshine.

Diagon Alley was more crowded today than it had been on July 31st. People milled about along the cobblestone street, bustled in and out of shops, and lingered around the café tables, sipping coffee and nibbling on croissants. Some of them noticed Harry and he received more than a few curious stares, but being part of a group seemed to help discourage people from making any overt moves towards him.

Harry was surprised at how much reconstruction and repair work had been accomplished in the three weeks since Voldemort's attack. Some of the shops were closed and were still visibly damaged, but most of the buildings looked the same as always and were open for business. He supposed that type of work could be done much more quickly with magic.

As they discovered, though, just because the stores were open, it didn't mean that everything was the same. Many shops had lost part or all of their goods in the battle and there were lots of shortages. Flourish and Blotts, for example, had been set on fire and had lost quite a few textbooks, including most of the ones Ginny needed.

"What am I going to do?" She demanded, looking from her parents to the manager.

"The new textbooks should arrive by October," the manager tried to reassure them.

"But it's my OWL year. I can't wait until October for books. I'll be hopelessly behind." Ginny was looking more and more unhappy.

"It's all right, Gin," Hermione said. "I've still got all my old books. You can use mine."

Ginny looked relieved as her mother smiled at Hermione and remarked, "That's so kind of you, dear." Then Mrs. Weasley turned to Ron, and added rather crossly, "It's lucky that some people take care of their books, isn't it, Ron?"

Ron just gave her a surprised, innocent look in return.

Ironically the sixth-year texts were completely intact.

"Good thing," Ron muttered to Harry. "Hermione would've had a heart attack."

They weren't so fortunate in some of the other stores. Scribbulus Everchanging Inks was all out of parchment and quills, and the apothecary lacked many of the ingredients needed for the students' potions kits. Hermione was indeed beginning to look upset when Severus, who had been rather quiet so far, spoke up.

"There's no cause for panic, Miss Granger. Many of the shops in Hogsmeade carry these same materials and I know the headmaster is aware of the shortages in Diagon Alley. He's already placed orders with the Hogsmeade stores so we can have most of the necessary materials at the school for students who haven't been able to purchase everything."

Hermione actually smiled at him. "Oh, that's wonderful."

From the apothecary they headed to Madame Malkin's. Ron and Ginny had both grown since the previous year and needed new robes. It was the first time since Harry had met the Weasleys that they were able to buy new robes instead having to make do with hand-me-downs, and even though he hadn't really noticed it before, it suddenly struck him that both of the younger Weasleys were dressed a bit nicer than they typically were.

Ginny was dressed similarly to Hermione in patterned calf-length trousers, a bright shirt with ruffly sleeves and with beads and sequins around the neckline, and matching sandals. Like Harry, Ron wore jeans, but he too had on a nice polo shirt with the small golden ‘Gladrags' crest on the left shoulder.

And now that Harry was paying attention, the Weasley parents looked nice, too. They both wore wizarding robes, but new and smart-looking ones rather than the threadbare clothes Harry was used to seeing them in, and Mrs. Weasley had a new hat perched on her head.

He didn't want to just come out and ask...that seemed rather rude, even as close as they were...but Harry did wonder about the change. He'd always felt vaguely guilty about having so much money of his own while his best friends had so little. Personally, Harry didn't give a fig how much gold they had. He knew what the important things in life were, and the Weasleys were rich in all the ways that really mattered. Before this summer, before he and Severus had grown close, there had been many times when Harry had thought that he would have gladly given up his vault of Galleons in exchange for a loving family of his own.

But he knew that in the past Ron at least had been self-conscious about having less money then either of his best friends, and though Mr. and Mrs. Weasley didn't often mention finances, Harry had noticed before that they sometimes looked worried when the family was making the annual pilgrimage for school supplies.

It reminded him of how he'd planned to leave his gold to them when he'd still been planning to kill himself. Actually there had been times even before that when he'd wondered if he ought to offer to share his wealth with them. He would have been glad to, but he had been afraid of offending them and besides, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would have refused, he'd always known that.

As it turned out, Ron himself brought up the topic of money a little while later. They finished purchasing all the necessary items just before lunch, or all the items that could be found on Diagon Alley, at least, and Ginny suggested that maybe the teens could eat and walk around on their own for a little while before they left. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley agreed at once, telling them to meet in a couple of hours at Fred and George's joke shop.

Harry looked over at Severus uncertainly. It would be fun to have time alone with his friends, but he knew the professor wasn't very comfortable around the Weasleys, or with anyone that he didn't know well, really, and Harry didn't want to abandon him.

But Severus nodded at him and asked. "Do you have enough money with you for lunch, Harry?"

Harry smiled his gratitude. "Yes, thanks. See you in a couple hours then, Severus."

They parted ways and Harry and his friends headed for the nearest café. They got in line to order sandwiches, chips, and sodas, and ate outside at one of the tables on the crowded patio. When it was time to pay, Ron leaned over and said, "I'll treat today, guys."

"I've got enough..." Harry began.

Ron shook his head. "You've bought our sweets on the Hogwarts Express every year, Harry. I'll get it this time." He lowered his voice and added. "It's all right. Things are better money-wise now. It's easier now that it's just Ginny and me still at home, and besides that, Fred and George are doing really well with their shop. They've insisted on sharing some of the money with Mum and Dad, too. I mean, Mum and Dad didn't want to take it at first, but Fred and George insisted, said we're all family and it was only right, and I think Mum and Dad finally gave in."

"Well, that's good then," Harry said, feeling happy for Ron's sake and glad that he didn't have to feel guilty about being alive and not leaving his gold for the Weasleys.

But Ron just shrugged, "Yeah, but it's not the most important thing. I finally figured that out, I guess. Not that I mind having more money or anything," he grinned.

So Ron paid their waiter and then they wandered up and down Diagon Alley. They saw Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan walking with the Patil twins and stopped to speak for a few minutes, asking one another about their holidays. Dean, Seamus, and the Patils wanted to know more about how he had defeated Voldemort so Harry repeated the tale for them.

"And you've had to spend the whole summer with Snape?" Seamus exclaimed, looking horrified, after they'd all expressed their relief at Voldemort's demise.

Harry frowned. "It's been all right. He's really different now."

They didn't look convinced.

"But I don't understand why you still have to stay there now. Voldemort's dead," Parvati said.

"Well, you read how Bellatrix Lestrange cast that curse on me right afterwards? I'm still not completely over it. It can cause internal bleeding and I have to take these potions every night to prevent that. Severus said sometimes the potions can cause a reaction, too, for a while after you take them so he has to put these monitoring spells on me and I have to stay close by. I'll probably have to live with him even after school starts," Harry told them. He hated to lie, but in this case there just wasn't any choice. He'd hate for them to know the truth even more.

But he felt even guiltier when he saw how concerned they were.

"Merlin, Harry, are you all right?" Dean asked. "The papers said you were out of St. Mungo's so we all thought you were fine now, but that sounds really serious."

"Oh, yeah, I'm all right as long as I take the potions," Harry muttered.

"How long do you have to take them? For the rest of your life?" Padma Patil wanted to know.

"Can't they find some cure? The Healers at St. Mungo's are supposed to be some of the best in Europe," Seamus said.

Parvati added. "Harry, you saved us from Voldemort! They ought to send you to the best specialists in the world."

Harry was growing more and more uncomfortable and the last thing he needed was for rumours over his supposed illness to start spreading. The Ministry probably would insist on sending all kinds of Healers to examine him.

He spoke up quickly, "Really, I'm all right. Dumbledore and Severus are working on finding a way to counter-act the curse, and in the meantime I'm fine. I just have to drink a couple potions at night and stay close to Severus. But he said if they do cause a reaction, there's a simple anti-dote. So I'm fine, really."

"That's a shame that you're not going to be staying with us in the Tower, though," Seamus said. "Hope Dumbledore can find a cure quickly."

Me, too, Harry thought, but even as he thought it, he realised that while he desperately wanted to be free from the slavery curse, he wasn't upset about living with Severus. Not anymore. Oh, he knew there would be times when he missed being in Gryffindor Tower, but having a real family of his own was more than worth that sacrifice. Besides, it wasn't as if he'd never get to see his friends. They hadn't talked about it, but Harry was certain that Severus would let him visit often.

"Have you been able to find all your supplies? We've had some trouble." Hermione changed the subject and Harry flashed her a grateful look.

After a few more moments of small talk, Dean, Seamus, and the Patil girls moved on and Harry and his friends continued on their way.

"Harry? Would it bother you if we went to see the spot where, you know, it all happened?" Ron asked. "I'd kind of like to see where Voldemort died."

He shook his head. "No, that's fine. Come on, it's this way."

But they couldn't get that close to the actual spot after all. It was cordoned off and a nearby sign proclaimed that the Ministry was planning to build a monument to honour Harry at the site.

"Wow, Harry, you'll have your own statue," Ron joked, elbowing his friend in the side.

Harry couldn't decide whether to laugh or be annoyed. "I don't want my own statue. I can't believe this. They might have at least mentioned it to me. And if they want to honour anyone, it ought to be my mum."

"Well, there is that statue of your mum, of your whole family, in Godric's Hollow," Hermione remarked casually, and then looked surprised when Harry turned to her with a fierce eagerness.

"There is? I never knew that! Why didn't you ever tell me, Hermione?"

She looked flustered. "I guess it just didn't occur to me that you didn't know. But I suppose I should have realised. I'm sorry, Harry."

"That's all right. But I just can't believe I never knew that." Harry was surprised to find a lump in his throat. He wasn't even sure why he was so affected. The other three were quiet, as if sensing his sudden sorrow.

But Harry didn't have time to dwell on it because just then a short little old man with a pointed beard came over to ask for his autograph and he was followed by several children too young for Hogwarts who could barely stammer out their requests between blushing and giggling. Apparently people were braver about coming up to him at the actual site where he'd won their victory.

Harry signed their papers and tried to be polite, though he still found it disconcerting that people actually wanted his signature, but he was relieved when after a few minutes, Ginny made a show of looking at her watch and exclaiming that it was time to leave.

"Thank," he told her fervently as they took off down the street towards Fred and George's shop.

"Well, it is actually time to meet Mum and Dad...and Professor Snape, but you looked like you really wanted out of there, too," she replied.

"I did. I hate all that attention. It's embarrassing," Harry said.

"People mean well. They're just grateful to you," Hermione told him.

Harry sighed. "I know, and I don't mean to be rude about it, but it really does embarrass me, and it makes me stand out when I just want to be normal."

"Well, it'll die down," Ron reassured him. He shook his head. "You know, I still can't believe that you did it, Harry, and that Voldemort's really dead. I can't believe we weren't with you."

"Yeah, sometimes I can't believe it's over, either," Harry said. He glanced sideways at his friends. "And I know you would have been with me, if you'd known. You're the best friends anyone could ever have."

They all smiled at one another and finished the walk in silence.

A great flashing sign proclaimed WEASLEYS' WIZARD WHEEZES above the doorway of Fred and George's shop. ("No one could miss that, for sure," Ron muttered as it came into view). The store windows were filled with a variety of spinning, beeping, and exploding items, and inside customers were crammed so tightly that it was hard to walk about.

Nonetheless, George spotted them as soon as they came in and he wended his way over to them with surprising speed.

"Harry, how are you doing?"

Harry nodded. "I'm fine. How about you?" He couldn't forget the way George had looked the last time he'd seen him, lying pale, unconscious, and bleeding from the loss of his ear.

George grinned. "Right as rain now, thanks to you." He paused and grew serious for one of the few times in his life. "Really, Harry, I think you saved my life when you came to help Fred that day. He was outnumbered and once I was down, it would have been just a matter of time. Actually, you probably saved both our lives cause Fred wouldn't have left me. We owe you, Harry."

But Harry shook his head fiercely. "You don't owe me anything, George. You and Fred would have done the same for me, wouldn't you?"

George considered, then grinned and grabbed Harry's hand in a firm grasp. "Yeah, you're one of us, so you're family and family doesn't owe each other."

"Hmm, that's not what you tell me," Ron pretended to grumble. Without bothering to look at him, George mildly sideswiped his younger brother's head. "That's because Harry's our favourite." He gestured around at the shop. "I've got to get back to work, but take a look around."

"We're supposed to be meeting the adults here," Ginny commented.

"Oh, yeah. Well, they're over there." George waved his hand to their right and then hurried off to speak with some girls who were exclaiming over the pygmy puffs.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were looking about the shop, beaming with pride, while Severus was reading the instructions from a bottle of a daydreaming potion. Ron, Ginny, and Hermione went to join the Weasley parents while Harry moved closer to Severus.

He looked up at Harry's approach and remarked, "This is a rather brilliant little concoction, I must admit. It's a shame those two never applied themselves in potions class."

Harry glanced around at the crowded shop. "They seem to be doing pretty well, anyway."

Severus arched an eyebrow. "Oh, yes, their Skiving Snackboxes are a great gift to the world."

Harry had to grin. "They sure are. We drove Umbridge crazy with them last year."

"Perhaps they do have some redeeming value," the professor responded in a dry tone. "Odd, no one ever used them in my class."

"Well, we weren't suicidal," Harry automatically replied. Then he realised what he'd just said and froze.

A strange expression flickered across Severus' face and then he stepped close, placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, and spoke in a very quiet, gentle tone, "I certainly hope that no one is right now, either."

Harry bit his lip and stared at the floor. "No one is," he mumbled.

Severus continued softly, "And if someone ever should happen to feel that way again..."

"He knows to come and talk with you." Harry whispered, forcing himself to look up and meet Severus' concerned gaze.

Severus just nodded, but he squeezed Harry's shoulder gently.

The twins had a fireplace connected to the Floo network in a back room so they all headed there to say their good-byes and to return to their respective homes. It was tea time when Harry and Severus arrived back at Prince Hall and the elves had a tray with meat pies and scones waiting when they stepped from the fireplace in the professor's sitting room. They settled side by side on the sofa and Harry placed some food on their plates while Severus poured tea.

"Did you have fun with your friends?" The professor asked after a moment.

"Yes." Harry set his cup of tea down and leaned against him. "Thank you for going with the Weasleys. I know you didn't really want to."

"It made you happy," Severus answered simply.

Harry was quiet. He hoped that over time Severus could learn to like the Weasleys, but even right now, when the professor wasn't really enamored of them, he'd been willing to spend the day with Harry's friends just to make him happy. Severus really did love him. Harry knew that he did. He'd said so several times since the day Harry had come so close to dying, and he was so gentle and kind now, to Harry at least.

And Harry loved him, too. He'd said it that one time, but he realised that he hadn't since. Well, he could change that, though.

He looked up and said softly, "I love you, Severus."

The professor's black eyes glimmered. Then he set his own plate and cup aside and wrapped his arms around Harry, enfolding him in a long, warm embrace. Harry wasn't entirely sure, but he thought Severus had to swallow a couple of times before he could reply.

"And I love you, child."

Harry leaned against him, and for a little while, he let himself forget his sorrow and grief, and just enjoy the fact that he finally had a home and someone who loved him.

Just for a little while.

The next week flew by. Ron and Hermione came to visit Harry once more before the new school year began. The weather was nice this time so they spent much of the day outside. Harry showed them around the grounds at Prince Hall and then he and Ron, who had indeed remembered to bring his Cleansweep, practiced feints and dives from the Wronski Quidditch book.

They managed to round up an extra broom for Hermione, but she never had enjoyed flying as much as the boys. After a little while, she borrowed a novel from the library and settled down on a blanket under an oak tree to read while Ron and Harry swooped through the air above her.

Late in the afternoon, just before Ron and Hermione left, the three of them went by the library to return the book. Severus was sitting at his desk, writing on some parchment. He laid it aside as they came in and nodded at them.

"Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley."

"Good afternoon, sir," Hermione said.

Ron looked a little uncomfortable still, but he spoke politely enough. "Hello, Professor."

Severus glanced at the thick book in Hermione's hand. "Is that the same one you were reading the last time you were here, Miss Granger?"

She looked uncertain, as if worried that she'd done something wrong. "Yes, sir."

Severus seemed to have an internal struggle with himself before finally offering, "You may take it with you to finish, if you'd like. You can return it once we're all back at Hogwarts."

Hermione seemed stunned into speechlessness. She just gazed at him in amazement for a moment before slowly smiling and nodding. "Thank you, Professor Snape. I'll take good care of it."

"If I'd had any doubts about that, I wouldn't have offered," Severus responded dryly. He placed the parchment carefully in a drawer and stood. "If you're ready then, Miss Granger..."

They Apparated away to the Granger residence in London, and Ron turned to Harry. "I guess you're right, mate. He can act decent, huh. You're going to ask about riding with us on the Hogwarts Express, aren't you?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. I'll let you know, but I don't see why Severus would mind."

"Well, we'll see you at King's Cross in a few days then." Ron and Harry clasped hands before Ron Flooed home to the Burrow.

***

And then, all of a sudden, it was the last evening at Prince Hall. There were still a few days before the term began, but the professors had to return earlier than the students so Severus and Harry had to go ahead and report to the castle.

"Do you have everything packed?" Severus asked as they were eating dinner.

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir. I finished this afternoon."

"Good." Severus considered him thoughtfully. "The weather will be turning cooler soon. How large is your winter wardrobe, Harry?"

"Umm, I have a few more winter things," he replied. "I always bought myself some clothes at Diagon Alley. The only reason I never bought much stuff for summer was cause I knew I'd be back at the Dursleys by then."

Severus looked slightly puzzled. "Why wouldn't you need summer clothes while staying with your relatives?"

Harry looked down at his plate, piled high with a serving of chicken casserole and vegetables, and mumbled. "I always wore Dudley's castoffs then."

"Hmm." Severus arched an eyebrow, seeming to consider the mental picture of Harry, who had always been small for his age, and Dudley Dursley, who had always been large for his, wearing the same clothes. He didn't comment directly on it though, to Harry's relief.

Relief that was short-lived, as it turned out, since Severus' next words were, "It has not escaped my notice that we have yet to discuss your relatives and the ways they mistreated you, Harry. We do need to talk about it, I think, and decide how they should be punished."

Harry was already shaking his head. "No, Severus, please..."

The professor sighed and reached for his hand, holding it gently between his own. "I understand that it is a difficult topic, but I think it might help you to talk about it, and I assure you that I can empathise."

"I just want to forget about it, and them," Harry said, scarcely louder than a whisper.

Severus gave his hand a light squeeze. "Harry, if I thought that simply forgetting about it all was the best thing for you, then I wouldn't mention it again. But I can't help but feel that keeping those memories and emotions bottled up inside could be harmful to you in the long run."

Harry looked at him pleadingly. "But couldn't we talk about it another time? Please? I don't want to spoil my last night here talking about the Dursleys."

Severus considered him thoughtfully before nodding. "Very well, then. But we do need to discuss them soon, Harry."

Harry just looked down at their clasped hands in silence. After a moment, Severus spoke more briskly.

"As a matter of fact, I have something else planned for this evening."

Harry looked back up, his expression a mixture of curiousity and trepidation. "You do?"

Severus nodded. "It's all right. I think you'll enjoy it."

"What is it?" Harry asked more eagerly.

But Severus just shook his head, smiling a little. "You have to finish dinner first."

When they had eaten their fill and the elves had cleared the table, Harry glanced expectantly at Severus, but the professor just kept sitting there. After a moment, Harry understood why. Norie and Zan came back from the kitchen, levitating an enormous chocolate cake lit with brightly glowing candles.

Harry stared in amazement as Norie set the cake before him with a flourish and she and Zan chorused. "Happy Birthday, Master Harry!"

"But...my birthday was a month ago, and we already celebrated," Harry said, looking from the elves to Severus in bewilderment.

"Yes, but we were not able to complete the celebration," Severus explained. "We were supposed to have cake and ice cream that evening, but then you and I ended up in St. Mungo's instead." He looked slightly embarrassed. "I realise it's a bit late, but what is the saying, ‘Better late than never'?

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat. "You didn't have to do all this," he said thickly.

Severus rolled his eyes. "Foolish child. Of course we didn't have to do it. We wanted to do it. Now, blow out the candles before the icing melts all over the antique tablecloth."

Harry turned his attention to the flaming candles. But first he had to make a wish. He started to wish for a way to be freed from the slavery spell, but then, for some reason, he glanced around at the others in the room: Severus who had given Harry his heart and allowed him to see the carefully concealed emotions hidden behind a cool façade, whose dark eyes were soft and gentle as they watched him; Norie who had a feisty spirit and a loving heart; and Zan who was always quiet and dignified, but kind and welcoming, too.

I hope we'll always be a family. The thought sprang unbidden into Harry's mind, and as much as he longed for his freedom, he knew that it was his true deepest desire. And suddenly, somehow, he felt free again, even if only for a moment.

But still...And I hope Severus and Dumbledore can find a way to free me, too.

There, that was two wishes, but surely after all the birthday wishes he'd been denied in the past, he was entitled to two now. Harry took a deep breath and for the first time in his life, blew out the candles on his birthday cake.

Of course the cake was delicious, and so was the strawberry ice cream that Zan brought to go along with it. The elves even joined them at the dining room table to eat, something they'd never done before, Severus commented.

"I'm impressed, Harry. I've been trying to get them to eat in here for seventeen years, to no avail. You've accomplished that feat in two months," the professor said dryly.

"Well, you've never had a birthday party, Master Severus," Norie retorted. "We might make an exception for that, too."

So Severus had never had a birthday party...Harry filed that information away in the back of his mind. They'd have to change that. Of course, he would need to learn the date first, though. He just hoped he hadn't already missed it.

Harry thought that his postponed birthday party was all that Severus had planned, but when they'd finally had enough cake and ice cream and the elves had Vanished the mess away and retired for the night, the professor asked him to come to the library for a few moments.

Harry curled up in an armchair while Severus went to his desk, opened a drawer, and took out a stack of parchment.

"I wanted to give this to you before we went back to Hogwarts," the professor said quietly as he came to sit in a chair beside Harry. He almost sounded a little hesitant and as Harry took the proffered scrolls, he thought Severus seemed tense.

Curiously, Harry glanced down at the papers in his hand, and then caught his breath as he read as he read the fancy script.

Certificate of Adoption

This document certifies that on the twenty-eighth of August in the Year of our Lord Nineteen Hundred Ninety-Six, Severus Tobias Snape did formally adopt one Harry James Potter, a minor child legally eligible for adoption.

From this time forth, Harry James Potter is the son of Severus Tobias Snape and is his legal heir. Harry James Potter is henceforth entitled to all rights and benefits of a child from his parents and will in every respect be considered the natural-born son of Severus Tobias Snape.

There was more, page after page describing in detail all the rights and benefits that Harry was entitled to, but those first two paragraphs said it all, as far as he was concerned. But they hadn't been to the Ministry and performed any type of ceremony. They couldn't, no matter how much Harry wanted to, because it would lead to everyone discovering the slavery spell.

He looked up at Severus, puzzled. "But how...?"

"It is not a true legal document, not in the eyes of the law at least," Severus told him. "I cannot legally adopt you without involving the Ministry. But in my heart you are already my son and I wanted to do something to acknowledge that fact. These papers may be only for us, Harry, but if we ever should go to the Ministry and perform the adoption ceremony, it would not make our relationship any more valid or real to me than it is now."

The writing on the parchment blurred as Harry's eyes filled with tears. He blinked them away fiercely and managed to say. "Or to me."

Severus paused, before saying awkwardly, "Perhaps I should have spoken with you again before giving you this, but I did think your only objection was concern over the magical contracts, and not to the adoption itself."

Harry laid the papers aside and went to him. "I've always wanted my own family. You've given it to me. Thank you, Severus."

But Severus shook his head. "Thank you, child. You've made me happier than I've ever been before in my life."

Harry felt a little awkward himself, just standing there, but Severus quickly solved that problem. The professor took his wand and expanded the chair so that they could sit together. Then he held out his arm and Harry immediately snuggled close beside him. He leaned against Severus...his father.

He had a father now, a real living father who could be with him and protect him and help him. For a moment he thought of Lily and James Potter, and Sirius and felt vague stirrings of guilt, but then he reminded himself that they couldn't be here with him, and surely they all loved him enough to want him to have someone here too. He hoped so because he loved Severus and he didn't want anything to ruin this wonderful gift, his dream that had finally come true.

It was as if Severus could read his mind because he glanced down at Harry and said softly, "I know I'm not the same as your parents or your godfather, Harry, but I do love you with all my heart, and I will do my very best for you, to help you and guide you and to make certain you have a rich, fulfilling life."

Harry smiled at him, but there was something about Severus' statement that concerned him, just a little...the way Severus seemed to feel that he was second-best, or even third-best behind Harry's parents and Sirius. That wasn't really true. Harry loved his parents and Sirius, of course, and missed them. But he loved Severus with all his heart, too. He wasn't exactly sure how to reassure the professor...no, his father...but he had to try.

"Severus," he said slowly. "I really love my parents and Sirius, and I miss them. But I love you just as much, maybe even more because I know you better than I ever knew them. I'm really, really happy that you're my father now."

Severus' face twisted and his black eyes filled with tears, but Harry only got a brief glimpse of that, because then his father was holding him close and his face was pressed to Severus' chest. But he could feel the tremors that shook Severus' body and he wrapped his own arms around his father and held him close too, gently patting Severus' back to try to comfort him.

It was a long time before they left the library and went upstairs to bed.

***

Grey clouds blew in overnight and covered the sky the next morning. A gentle but steady rain began to fall during breakfast and Harry thought that the gloomy weather was an appropriate backdrop for the mood at Prince Hall. He himself was almost surprised to discover that he had mixed feelings about returning to Hogwarts. He had always been eager for school to start before, and even at the beginning of the summer he had hated the idea of having to leave Hogwarts and go live at Prince Hall. Harry had to smile wryly at himself when he remembered how vehemently he'd vowed that Prince Hall would never be his home.

Of course everything had been different then. Now he and Severus were a family, and Prince Hall had become his home after all, the first real home he had ever had. And for the first time, Harry found himself wishing that summer didn't have to end and feeling reluctant to return to school.

He didn't think he was the only one who felt that way, either. Norie was sniffling and Zan looked unusually somber as they served the porridge and toast, and Severus seemed quiet as well. After breakfast they all went upstairs to Severus' sitting room, where his trunk and Harry's sat by the fireplace.

"We will miss you both, Master Severus, Master Harry." Zan gave them a formal little bow. It was all he said, but the sorrow in his face and voice were genuine.

Harry stepped over and shook his hand. "I'll miss you and Norie, too. Thank you, Zan, for everything."

Norie sniffled again as she came over to pat his arm. "You take care of yourself, Master Harry."

Harry knelt to hug her and she whispered in his ear. "And take care of Master Severus, too."

"I will," Harry whispered back.

The elves said a solemn farewell to Severus too, and he glanced around at them all and said, "There's no reason for everyone to look as if it were the end of the world. The Christmas holidays will come soon and we'll be back then."

"Of course, Master Severus," Norie said with an air of determined cheerfulness.

Severus cast featherlight and shrinking charms on their trunks and he and Harry picked them up easily. Harry gave the elves one last little wave, and then his father was guiding him into the fireplace.

Severus threw down some Floo powder and called, "Our quarters at Hogwarts!"

***

Harry had never seen Severus' private rooms at Hogwarts before and he looked about curiously when they stepped from the fireplace there. They entered a large parlour with pale stone walls, a couple of small mahogany tables, and a sofa and armchairs upholstered in brown and gold. A matching rug covered much of the floor. A heavy bookcase stood along one wall, and a dining alcove was carved out of another. The fireplace itself was tall and wide and took up much of its wall. It had a high carved mantel with a clock and a jar, presumably for Floo powder, set on it and a landscape painting above.

There were no windows, but the walls were adorned with several landscape portraits and a gilt-framed mirror. There were two arched doorways on opposite sides of the room. One was closed and Harry supposed it led to the outside corridor. The other was open and Harry could see through it to the bedroom beyond. A tall wardrobe and part of a spacious four-poster bed with a plaid comforter in shades of brown were visible.

After a moment Harry realised that Severus was watching him. The professor's lips quirked upwards. "Welcome to our home away from home."

"It's nice," Harry told him.

"It's a bit smaller than Prince Hall, but it's nice enough," Severus agreed.

It was noticeably cooler here and Harry shivered slightly.

Severus frowned. "Do you have a jacket, Harry?"

He nodded. "Packed in my trunk."

Severus drew his wand from his sleeve. "Well, I'll just cast a warming spell for now. It is always cool down here in the dungeons though. You'll need to unpack your jacket and long-sleeved shirts, and we might go ahead and owl-order some new winter clothes for you, too."

"I don't really need..." Harry began.

His father shook his head. "Harry, the correct response is ‘thank you.' And I know I don't have to, but I would like to buy at least a few things for you, whether you really need them or not. I want to be certain that you stay warm enough, especially since you will be prone to catching cold now. I don't want you to become ill."

Harry gave him a bemused look, but then just smiled. "Thank you."

Severus cast the warming spell and then led the way back to his bedroom where he set his trunk down in the corner and restored it to its original size.

He glanced at Harry. "Go ahead and set your trunk down here, too, while we make your room."

"Make my room?" Harry questioned.

"Well, you do need one here, don't you?" Severus began walking around his quarters, studying the space thoughtfully while Harry followed him in bewilderment.

"Hmm, we could probably have your room here, next to mine, and have your doorway open to the parlour here," Severus remarked, indicating a section of the parlour wall. He turned to Harry. "What do you think?"

"It sounds fine to me." Harry responded. "How do you make a room?"

‘With a rather complex set of spells," Severus answered. "Watch."

He began a series of long incantations and elaborate twirls and flourishes of his wand. Harry realised right away that he himself would not be ready to attempt any construction spells in the near future. But he quickly forgot to worry about following the technique anyway, he was so entranced by the sight of the room that suddenly appeared before them.

It was a spacious room, not as vast as his suite at Prince Hall, but still large. The walls were of the same light stone and Severus also conjured mahogany furniture to match the rest of their furnishings. There was a wide bed with a handsome carved headboard, a wardrobe, and a desk and chair.

Severus glanced at Harry. "How would you like it decorated? In Gryffindor colours, I presume?"

Harry shrugged. "It's all right if you want to do it in brown and gold to match the other rooms."

"It's your room, Harry. I don't care which colours you choose," Severus told him.

"Well, if you don't mind..." Harry's voice trailed off.

Severus nodded, flicked his wand, and an instant later a soft, thick scarlet comforter covered the bed, with fluffy pillows in scarlet and gold striped shams piled at the headboard. Another flick of Severus' wand and a golden rug with scarlet flour-de-lis covered the floor. Next the professor conjured a small scarlet sofa with golden cushions to sit at the foot of Harry's bed and a matching armchair in one corner. An enchanted window with golden drapes completed the room.

Severus turned to Harry. "Is this satisfactory?"

"It's brilliant," Harry whispered in awe. "Thank you."

"Well, you had to have a place to sleep. Or did you think I would simply stick you in my potions cabinet at night?" Severus said lightly.

Harry knew Severus couldn't have known about the cupboard under the stairs, but he felt as if someone had just punched him in the stomach. He quickly turned away so his father wouldn't see his face.

He wasn't quite quick enough though.

"Harry? What is it?" Severus stepped close and placed a hand on his shoulder.

Harry was quiet for a moment. But even though it was hard to say aloud, he suddenly felt that it would be all right to tell. His father deserved to know.

"That's what my aunt and uncle did," he said softly. "I mean, they didn't have a potions cabinet, of course, but they did stick me in the cupboard under the stairs. I lived there until I came to Hogwarts."

He had been staring at the floor while he spoke. Severus' hand squeezed his shoulder, but the professor didn't speak for a long time. Finally Harry had to raise his eyes and turn to see his father's reaction.

Severus actually looked ill. "Those monsters," he rasped in a pained voice.

Then he grabbed Harry and held him close in a fierce, protective embrace.

When his father finally let him go, Harry expected to be deluged with questions, but Severus was quiet. Harry glanced up and, seeing the professor's blazing eyes and pinched lips, decided that Severus must be too angry to speak.

"They were afraid," he said softly. "They never wanted me and they were afraid."

Severus swallowed hard. "Harry, do not attempt to defend them." His voice was rough and he took a deep breath before continuing. "There is no excuse for locking a child in a cupboard, none at all."

Harry didn't know why he felt compelled to downplay his mistreatment. "It wasn't so bad most of the time, really. At least they left me alone when I was in the cupboard."

Severus placed an arm around his shoulders and guided him back through the parlour to the sofa. They sat down side by side and Severus reached to cup Harry's chin in his hand, turning his head so they were looking into each other's eyes.

"Harry, locking a child away in a cupboard is an abominable thing. And I think you know that, too." Severus' voice was firm, but his eyes and his fingers were gentle. "But I can also understand that it would be a relief to have a place where you would be left alone, even if it was inside a cupboard."

He wrapped an arm securely around Harry's shoulders, holding him close, and kissed the top of Harry's head. "Do you want to tell me the rest of it?"

Harry had not planned to tell him then, but somehow his father's concern and love loosened his tongue and it all came out: Dudley and his gang going ‘Harry-hunting', Aunt Petunia's hateful comments, Uncle Vernon's blustering threats, the endless chores and days of hunger, being locked away in the cupboard for hours at a time, punished for having nightmares, smacked and pushed and shoved around, the time Dobby had ruined his uncle's dinner party and in a fit of rage, his uncle had beaten him across the back with his belt until Harry had broken down and screamed in pain... all the years of cruel neglect and abuse that he had never told anyone before.

When he was finally finished, he felt embarrassed for some reason and for a moment he wished he could take it all back and keep it locked inside him forever. But at the same time, he felt so safe in his father's arms, safer than he'd ever felt before, and lighter somehow, as if a big hard knot that had been tied up inside him had been loosened. His jumbled-up feelings were just so confusing, he wasn't even sure how he felt.

Severus was quiet for a few moments and when he spoke, his voice sounded strangled. "Harry, I am so sorry."

"None of that was your fault." Harry looked up at him in bewilderment.

Severus' face was ashen. He shook his head slightly. "I meant that I am sorry that you suffered so, but I did fail you. We all did. And I am sorry for my part."

"It's all right," Harry said softly.

"It most definitely is not all right!" Severus was emphatic. "You were an innocent child, placed into horrible circumstances, and there was no adult to look out for you. We should have noticed, and done more, but we failed." He took a deep breath. "But I can promise you that no one will ever..."

Severus' voice abruptly broke off and if possible, he looked even more stricken. His arms tightened around Harry, holding him closer still.

"Severus? What is it?" Harry asked, twisting to look more closely at him.

His father released him reluctantly and then clasped his hands together. He was silent for so long that Harry didn't think he was going to answer, but finally Severus spoke, his voice so low that Harry could barely hear him.

"I apologised once for the way I misjudged you and lost my temper back at the beginning of the summer...when I thought you had read my journal. I apologised for my actions, and I do still feel very badly about the way I behaved. But I never apologised for the things I said. Do you remember?"

Yes, he remembered...Severus emphasizing that Harry was his slave, that he could do anything he wanted and no one could interfere, threatening to beat and starve him...

Yes, Harry remembered, and those words had hurt and frightened him for weeks afterwards. But so much had changed since then. Harry knew that Severus regretted it all, and that his father would never hurt him. He'd forgiven Severus and the memory no longer stung.

So he repeated, "It's all right."

His father still looked almost sick. "No, it's not. I said monstrous things. Even if you had read the journal, it would have been horrible, and now, knowing what those wretched Muggles did to you...." He turned to Harry with haunted eyes. "Harry, I am so sorry. I know what I said was unforgivable, but..."

"Severus, it's not unforgivable," Harry interrupted. "Because I've already forgiven you."

"I don't know how you could," Severus replied quietly. "But Harry, I promise that I will never hurt you or mistreat you in any way again." He hesitated before adding, "I don't know if you can believe me, but I do want you to know that they were idle threats. Even back then and as angry as I was, I would not have struck you or denied you food. I simply said those things because I was furious and I wanted to hurt you."

His voice sounded pained and faint spots of colour appeared in his pale cheeks. "I am very sorry and ashamed, Harry. I realise that simply apologising is not enough, but I don't know what else to do. I wish there were a way that I could erase it all and start over. It makes me ill that I threatened you with the same abuse that you had suffered from those horrid Muggles for so long."

Harry couldn't bear the pain in Severus' voice and eyes. He laid his hand on his father's arm. "Severus, I've already forgiven you and it's all right. I know you're not like the Dursleys. I know you won't hurt me. It's all right."

Severus took Harry's hand and held it between his own, squeezing it gently. "Thank you, child." He cleared his throat. "And thank you for trusting me enough to tell me about the Dursleys."

Harry shook his head. "It's funny, Severus. Every time you asked me about them, I kept thinking that I couldn't bear to talk about it, but then I just did it all on my own."

Severus took a breath, then arched an eyebrow at Harry. "Yes, I noticed." He considered. "Perhaps it was a bit easier because it needed to be your decision on when the time was right to discuss them."

Harry must have looked puzzled because Severus explained. "So many things in your life have been out of your control that you needed to decide on your own when it was right to have this discussion."

"Oh," Harry thought about that. "Maybe, but I wasn't really thinking about it like that."

Severus nodded. "It was probably more of a subconscious need. Not to mention, of course, that we had to establish a close level of trust first as well." He smiled slightly as he finished and Harry understood why...because they had become close enough now to really trust one another.

He smiled too and leaned against his father, thinking what a wonderful feeling it was to know that he finally had someone who truly cared and would be there for him. Severus slid his arm around Harry's shoulders again and for a little while they just sat together in silence.

But finally Severus spoke again, his voice sounding more firm. "Now we need to decide on appropriate consequences for those filthy vermin you had the misfortune to be related to."

"Aunt Petunia would have a duck if she heard you call her filthy," Harry remarked.

"Name-calling will be the least of her worries once I'm finished with them," Severus answered darkly.

Harry sighed. "Severus, couldn't we just forget about them? Please?"

His father gave him an incredulous look. "Harry, those vile Muggles abused and neglected you for years, from the time you were a baby. Do you really think they should be allowed to get away with that? Don't you think they deserve some type of punishment?"

Harry stared at the floor, studying the pattern on the rug as if it were the most interesting thing he'd ever seen. "I guess so," he finally said in a quiet voice. "But I really just want to forget them. I don't want to think about them or see them or have anything to do with them ever again. And I don't want to have to talk about all this with anyone else."

"Well, there are plenty of ways that justice could be meted out privately and I would greatly prefer to handle it that way myself. But I cannot do anything that would merit Azkaban should it be discovered, mainly because you have to live with me and I will never risk your well-being." Severus exhaled sharply. "I suppose Albus would disapprove anyhow. He'd make some wise little speech about the dangers of vengeance and taking the law into one's own hands."

Severus huffed. "I suppose he might even have a point. Still, there is a difference between revenge and justice."

He was silent for a while, his forehead creased in thought. Harry just leaned against him, soaking up the comfort and warmth of his father's solid presence next to him. He still just wanted to forget about the Dursleys and get on with his life, but even though Severus seemed quite determined to have them punished, Harry knew that his father would do what was best for him...and it was sort of nice to know that he had someone on his side now, who could actually watch out for him and protect him.

"The other choice is to go through legal means," Severus finally said, "But that would involve a trial and your having to talk with lawyers and Aurors, and of course it would mean publicity. Even if we went through the Muggle courts, there is still a chance that someone from the wizarding world would hear of it. The name ‘Harry Potter' is rather well-known."

Harry was already shaking his head. "No, Severus. I don't want that. Please."

"Shh, child." Severus' arm tightened around him again. "We will not do anything without your approval. The Dursleys will be brought to justice, one way or another. I'm more determined than ever on that point. But I can see that it might require some time and consideration. Is it all right with you if I discuss the matter with Albus?"

Harry hesitated, but finally nodded. "All right," he whispered.

"Very well, then." There was a long pause before Severus said in a low voice, "Harry, I did tell you that I could empathise, do you remember? I was mistreated as a child, too."

Harry glanced up at him. Their eyes met in shared pain and then Severus bowed his head. "Norie and Zan probably told you a bit about my grandfather, Jeremiah Prince?"

Harry nodded and his father continued. "He was...a very proud man, very harsh and demanding. He had a temper, but he controlled it with an iron will. I never saw him lose control, but he would get a certain look in his eyes. I knew to stay away from him then. He was almost fanatically proud...of being a pureblood wizard, of the Prince family name and the estate. I never was exactly certain why...the Princes never seemed to be supreme models of humanity to me...but to him it was everything."

"You said he wasn't a Death Eater though," Harry pointed out, remembering that Severus had once obliquely hinted that he had not come from a family with ties to Voldemort.

Severus shook his head. "No, he wasn't. Oh, he thought Voldemort had the right idea, but he wasn't a Death Eater. He was ill the last few years of his life, when Voldemort was rising to power and the first war began, but even if he hadn't been, I can't imagine him actually serving anyone else. Voldemort required such utter loyalty from his followers, even to the point of abasing oneself and submitting to torture. Jeremiah Prince would have never lowered himself to that."

"My mother, Eileen Prince, was his only child. Her mother died when she was quite young so she was raised by house elves...not Norie and Zan; they didn't come to Prince Hall until later...and by Jeremiah. She never talked about it much but I'm sure she had a difficult and lonely childhood. I suppose that's why she ran off to marry Tobias Snape a few days after her seventeenth birthday."

Severus shook his head. "I can understand her desperation to get away, but to be perfectly honest, I never have known why she chose to marry my father. For one thing, he was a Muggle. Harry, over the past eighteen years I have learned that prejudice against Muggles is wrong, but during the years I lived with my mother and grandfather, they taught me to despise Muggles. It was very disconcerting for me, as a young man, when I began to realise that they had been wrong and I struggled to overcome those beliefs. But my mother had been taught to believe in pure-blood supremacy all her life. I can only think that marrying a Muggle was a form of revenge against her father."

"But if she thought marriage was going to be a great escape, she must have been disappointed. I was born a year after my parents eloped. It was..." Severus stopped, shook his head, and took a deep breath before continuing. "To say we were poor would be an understatement. My mother was intelligent, but she had no idea of how to get along in the Muggle world. I don't know why she didn't try to seek employment in the wizarding world, unless she was afraid of having some contact with Jeremiah Prince, or perhaps she was too proud to have anyone know what her life had become."

"In any case, she never had a job, aside from caring for me and our house, such as it was. ‘Hovel' would be a more appropriate term for it. My father had left school when he was sixteen, and he preferred drinking to working, in any case. He had a vicious temper when he was drunk, which was most of the time, and unlike my grandfather, he never controlled it."

Severus fell silent again and this time Harry reached for his hand and held it. His father smiled at him, rather a sad smile, Harry thought, and twined his fingers through Harry's.

"I escaped the worst of the violence. I learned early to stay away from home as much as possible, but there was a day when I was ten years old and my parents began fighting. It...ended badly. My mother took me and we went to Prince Hall. Jeremiah Prince probably would have turned us away, except that he wanted an heir. He never forgave my mother and he made her miserable for the rest of her life. She died at rather a young age, while I was still a student at Hogwarts. I've always thought that she simply gave up on life."

Harry nodded, knowing exactly the dark place that Eileen Prince must have been in. He'd been there for most of the summer, and it was only because of Severus that he'd begun to come out of it.

Severus must have remembered how close Harry had come to giving up, too, because he hugged him close, protectively, and bowed his head to rest his lips against Harry's hair.

"I'm sorry, Severus," Harry said softly after a while.

"Well, it's long past now," his father replied. "All I can say is thank goodness I had Hogwarts to come to. And for Norie and Zan. They were at Prince Hall when my mother and I arrived. They were my salvation during those years."

"I was always really glad to come to Hogwarts, too," Harry agreed.

He and Severus shared another understanding look before the clock began chiming noon.

Severus sighed. "Speaking of Hogwarts, Albus has planned for the professors to share luncheon and then have a staff meeting. But I could always tell him that we've had a trying morning and I needed to stay with you. I think he'd understand."

Harry smiled at him. "Well, I always like being with you, Severus, but I'm all right if you need to go. I mean, I'm not upset so you don't have to be afraid to leave me alone or anything. I'll be fine while you go to your meeting."

Severus considered, then nodded. "Very well, but you can contact me if you need to. All the fireplaces in the school are connected to an internal Floo system and I'll be either in the Great Hall or the staff room. You can also use the Floo to order some lunch from the kitchens."

"All right," Harry agreed.

Severus kissed his head one more time before reluctantly standing. "I'll probably be gone several hours. Albus does tend to go on a bit at these meetings." Before Flooing away, he added, "Oh, Harry, if you go anywhere, please leave a note. I would like to know where you are."

Once Severus had gone, Harry leaned back against the sofa, thinking about all the things they had discussed...the Dursleys, Severus' own past. His father hadn't really gone into detail about the things Tobias Snape and Jeremiah Prince had actually done to him, but the implications were that they had been pretty harsh. Harry knew that even telling as much as he had would have been very difficult for Severus, just like telling about the Dursleys had been difficult for him.

That was probably why Severus had opened up, so Harry would know that he really did understand, or maybe he just wanted Harry to know more about him. They were father and son, after all. In spite of the emotional discussion earlier, Harry smiled at that thought...father and son. He liked the sound of that.

He ordered a ham and cheese sandwich from the kitchen, and received it, plus an apple, a treacle tart, and a glass of milk. After eating, Harry went to his new room, glancing around at it in fresh delight. Back during the years he'd lived with the Dursleys, he could have never imagined having such a beautiful room of his own, and now he actually had two...his room at Prince Hall and this one. It was a drastic change from the cupboard under the stairs, for sure.

He looked for Hedwig, but she was sleeping peacefully in her cage on his desk and Harry decided he'd leave her alone for now and take her up to the Owlery in the evening. He knelt by his trunk in the corner, opened it, and took out the scrolls of parchment on top...the adoption papers that Severus had written just for him.

Harry took the scrolls and went to lie down on his bed. He propped himself up on the pillows and spent the next half hour reading and re-reading the papers. They gave him a warm happy glow inside and made him feel better than he had since Draco Malfoy had cast the enslavement spell on him...because Severus really did see him as a son, not as a slave. Harry had been thinking a lot lately about what Severus had told him...how they didn't have to let the spell define them, how it was just a catalyst for bringing them together, how they were a family and not master and slave.

Except that they were. Harry could never entirely forget that, or at least he couldn't forget that he was a slave. It was always in the back of his mind. Sometimes he could sort of ignore it; other times it really hurt still, a lot. But it was always there.

But he didn't really think of Severus as his master. No, Severus was his father, and his friend. And he was Severus' son. These adoption papers were proof of it. Severus had cared enough to go to the trouble to write it all out, even though the papers weren't legal. He'd understood that it would help Harry to be able to have tangible proof. Well, Harry knew one thing. The adoption might not be legal, but it was real.

And though he couldn't forget the slavery spell, Harry did know that being father and son was even more important.

After a while a thought struck him and he frowned down at the papers. Besides being Severus' son, they also said that he was his heir. But according to the slavery spell, Harry couldn't own anything. How could he inherit anything then? He shook his head. He would have to ask Severus about it later. That reminded him that he needed to ask about riding on the Hogwarts Express, too.

But Severus wouldn't be back for another hour or two, and all of a sudden Harry didn't want to just hang around in their rooms. He wanted to explore the castle, or better yet, go out to the Quidditch pitch and practice some of the Wronski skills. He and Ron had picked out a couple of techniques and worked hard on learning them the other day, but it would be different to actually perform them on the pitch.

Harry carefully placed the adoption papers back in his trunk, grabbed his Firebolt and left their quarters.

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.

Harry went to sit at the table in the dining alcove while his father headed for the fireplace to order their dinner.

"Is there anything in particular you'd like?" Severus asked over his shoulder.

"Anything is fine, thanks," Harry mumbled, staring down at the table. Actually, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to eat much at all, knowing that they would be discussing the slavery spell. Talking about the spell, even thinking about it, tended to kill his appetite.

Severus came to join him, taking the chair beside him. Harry could sense his father studying him and he raised his head and tried to smile, but a moment later it faded and his gaze slipped downward again.

Severus reached for his hand. "Are you truly so upset at the prospect of talking about the spell with me?"

Harry gave a small shrug. "I don't know. I guess so."

His father was silent for a few minutes, lightly squeezing Harry's hand between his own. Then he said quietly, sadly, "It still hurts you a great deal, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," Harry whispered in a thick voice.

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, I know," Harry whispered again. It was all he could say, but he did twine his fingers through his father's and return the gentle clasp.

"You handle it very well, though, maybe too well. You are so strong and so brave, Harry, but I don't want you to ever feel that you have to hide your emotions or pretend that things are all right if they're not. Do you understand?" Severus questioned softly.

Harry nodded. He looked up to see such concern and love in Severus' dark eyes that it brought another lump to his throat.

"And I know that the slavery spell is a painful thing. You have every reason to be upset and angry and hurt," Severus told him. "But at the same time, Harry, remember that you are a wonderful person. I've never known anyone as kind-hearted, as courageous, as noble as you. The slavery spell does not make you any less."

Harry nodded again, but it was a much more half-hearted nod than before.

Severus spoke firmly. "It's true, child. Why can't you believe it?"

Harry looked up at him and gave him a wan smile. "Thanks, Severus, but it's easier to believe all the bad stuff."

His father looked at him sorrowfully, and then moved from his chair to give Harry a quick hug before sitting back down and resuming their conversation. "Nonetheless, the good stuff is true and I want you to work on trusting in it. You promised you would. All right?"

"All right," Harry said quietly.

Severus took a deep breath and continued more briskly. "Now, as I said, the last thing in the world I ever want to do is to cause you any more pain, but the simple truth is that there are some practical matters to the slavery spell that you need to know. But first, do you have any questions about it?"

Well, Harry supposed that there were things about the spell he didn't know, but he knew enough...the basic rules they had to live by, and he really didn't want to think about it any more than he had to. He stared down and silently shook his head.

Severus started to say something, but just then their dinner arrived...plates of roast beef, potatoes, and peas, as well as glasses of ice water and pumpkin juice, floating up through the table just as they did in the Great Hall. The professor slipped his wand from his sleeve and summoned table napkins and sets of silverware from the drawer of a tall cabinet, and they set to eating.

Or rather, Severus did. Harry just nibbled at his food.

After a few bites, Severus continued. "Well, for one thing, you mentioned my selling you or giving you away. Besides the fact that you are my son and I cannot live without you, the magical contract binds you to me and we do not know of any way to change that. Now, it is possible that there is a way for the contract to be transferred to someone else...one can sell or give away house elves, for instance, and it seems likely that the ancient wizards who created this spell would have provided for a way to sell slaves if they wished...but if there is a way, it is not stated in the Malfoy book, and Albus and I have not discovered any other mention of this spell that you and I are under."

He reached to rest a hand on Harry's shoulder for a minute. "So no, I could not sell you or give you away. But Harry, I would never do that anyway, even if it were possible. You are my child and I love you with all my heart."

Harry swallowed and nodded his head once, in a short, jerky nod. It was all he felt capable of at the moment.

Severus sighed. "You should also know that upon my death, assuming I pre-decease you, that you will be free again. You know that one of the conditions of the spell is that you would be killed if you ever tried to physically attack me. I suppose that was the ancient wizards' way of protecting the master. But you will be free after my death."

Harry looked at him, stricken. "But I don't want you to die."

His father raised an eyebrow at him. "That's fortunate," He commented in his sardonic drawl. "Because I have no intentions of dying anytime soon. On the contrary, I plan for the both of us to live for the next two hundred years, at least, and be little old men with grey hair and wrinkles and beards down to our knees."

Harry had to laugh, as he suspected that Severus had wanted him to. Feeling a bit more light-hearted in spite of himself, he smiled at his father. "Will you still be calling me ‘child' then?"

"Probably," Severus deadpanned before going on, "But seriously, you are my heir now. It was mentioned in the adoption papers and I've already had my will changed, too. When I die, you will be free and able to own possessions again. Then everything I have will be yours, in name as well as in spirit. In the unlikely event that that should happen before you come of age, I have appointed Albus as your guardian and the manager of your legal affairs."

"I wondered how I could be your heir," Harry murmured, remembering how he had noticed that phrase in the adoption papers. He looked back at Severus, suddenly feeling a bit sad again.

"But I don't want you to die," he repeated. "I want to be free, but not like that. Even if it meant that I was never free again, I don't want you to die. I can't live without you either."

Severus seemed to find it difficult to speak for a moment. Then he cleared his throat harshly and said in a voice that was gruff with emotion. "Thank you, Harry."

"Guess it's a good thing we're going to live to two hundred then," Harry tried to joke.

"Yes, I thought it was a good plan," Severus agreed dryly. "Also, you should know that Albus has spent the summer translating the rest of that cursed Malfoy book to see if there was any more information about the slavery spell, such as a way to cancel it, but he has not had any luck there, I'm afraid."

Harry sighed, even though that news came as no surprise, at least not the part about there being no more information about the spell. If Dumbledore or Severus had happened to find a method to free him, Harry knew they would have already done it. But it was nice to know that the headmaster was really trying.

Thinking about Dumbledore reminded Harry of something else Severus had just said, about the older wizard being his guardian if, God forbid, anything happened to Severus. Harry didn't think he entirely liked that idea. He understood Dumbledore's reasons for leaving him with the Dursleys all those years, and for preparing him to be a warrior in the fight against Voldemort. Dumbledore had believed that he hadn't had any choice in the matter, and maybe he really hadn't. Harry didn't blame him, not exactly.

But he didn't think he wanted Dumbledore to be his guardian either.

"Severus?" He turned to his father.

Severus looked at him, eyebrow raised. "Yes, Harry?"

"Well, I just wondered...I mean, I can't stand to think about anything happening to you, really. I think I would die, too. But just if I didn't, does Dumbledore have to be my guardian?"

"Professor Dumbledore," Severus automatically corrected. He looked at Harry quizzically. "Whom would you prefer then?" He paused and added. "Werewolves are not allowed to have custody of children, Harry."

"I know," Harry responded. Remus and Sirius had explained all that to him a long time ago. It was the reason why only Sirius had been his godfather. He hadn't been thinking of Remus, anyway. Remus probably wouldn't want him in any case. He hadn't contacted Harry for months, not since Sirius' death. But Harry pushed those thoughts away. Remus' disappearance from his life was just one more painful thing and he didn't want to think about it now. "I was thinking maybe the Weasleys."

Severus didn't look pleased about that, for some reason. "The Weasleys already have quite a large family, Harry. Wouldn't you rather have someone who could provide you with undivided attention?"

Harry wasn't really sure that Dumbledore would provide him with undivided attention either, with all the commitments and obligations the headmaster had. Nor was he certain that he wanted Dumbledore's undivided attention.

But Severus was right. The Weasleys did have a large family. Why would they want to add him to it? It was one thing to allow him to spend holidays with them...they were good friends, after all. But that didn't mean they would want him around all the time.

"I guess you're right," he mumbled, looking back down at his dinner plate. Without much interest, he picked up his fork and knife and cut a small piece of the roast beef.

"Harry, I was wrong." Severus reached over to pluck the utensils from Harry's fingers and held his hand tightly. "The Weasleys love you very much and they would be delighted to have you in their family. In fact, I heard Arthur Weasley mention once that he and Molly had wanted to adopt you for years."

"Really?" That made Harry feel better. But then he looked at his father with a curious frown. "But why didn't you want them to be my guardians then?"

It was Severus' turn to stare down at his plate and Harry thought he seemed uncomfortable.

"I suppose I was...envious," Severus admitted.

"Of the Weasleys? But why?" It was hard for Harry to imagine his father being jealous of the Weasley family.

"Because you are close to them. I am aware that you have regarded Molly and Arthur Weasley as surrogate parents for some time, and after I began to care for you and to think of you as my son, it was...difficult for me to know that you saw some one else in that role, to think you would prefer to live with them if you could," Severus answered in a low voice, still not meeting Harry's eyes.

He shrugged. "It is not a very mature response, I know."

This time Harry reached to give Severus' hand a comforting squeeze. "Severus, you don't have to be jealous of the Weasleys. You're my father and I love you more than anyone."

Severus looked at him wonderingly. Then he stood and swept Harry into a long, joyful embrace. Harry hugged him back tightly and it was a good while before they returned to their chairs.

"Perhaps we should have waited a bit to eat," Severus remarked ruefully as he cast warming spells over their plates. "We're probably the only family who repeatedly hops up from the dinner table to hug one another."

Harry grinned at him. "I don't know. The Weasleys might."

Severus' lips quirked upwards. "You may be right." He nodded. "Very well, Harry. I will change my will and appoint Arthur and Molly Weasley as your guardians."

"But nothing's going to happen to you," Harry insisted, feeling slightly anxious again.

"I am young and in good health," his father reassured him. "Now that you have defeated Voldemort and most of the Death Eaters have been captured, I fully expect to live a long life. But a responsible parent prepares for his child's best interests, just in case."

He took a bite of potatoes and then a swallow of water. "One more thing that I can think of for now, Harry. I told you Albus had not any luck with the Malfoy book, but he has contacted the leading historians on ancient wizarding cultures, asking them to send him copies of any texts they have. Once these books and documents arrive, he and I will devote time each day to studying them. We are very serious about doing everything we can to help you. If there is a way to free you, we'll find it."

Harry's eyes filled with tears. He'd known that Dumbledore and Severus would do all they could; he'd never doubted it, but somehow hearing it...well, that meant a lot.

His voice choked up again, but this time it wasn't from sorrow. "Thank you."

But Severus just shook his head. "You don't have to thank me, child. When you hurt, I hurt. I want you to be happy again."

"Severus, I am happy, at least sometimes," Harry told him. "I mean, yeah, the slavery spell is really hard, and I do want to be free, a lot. But I am happy to be with you."

He frowned slightly. He wasn't doing a very good job of explaining his feelings, but then, he wasn't sure if he really understood them himself. It sounded crazy to say that he was happy and unhappy at the same time, but Severus seemed to understand what he meant.

"And I wish that you could be free again, too, but I will always be grateful and glad that you came into my life and that you are my son," his father said gently.

They smiled at one another, and then Severus gestured towards Harry's plate. "Now, why don't you try to eat a bit more before we order dessert?"

***

The final two days before the term officially began flew by on wings. Harry spent the better part of the morning alone because Severus had staff meetings. But he actually enjoyed the time. He slept in both mornings because the elves at Hogwarts didn't mind sending breakfast anytime he ordered it and Severus seemed willing to allow him the little luxury, though he did comment dryly that Harry shouldn't get used to it as classes were about to start.

‘Hedwig' continued to give him a gift each day, a wrapped package waiting on the desk when Harry awoke. One day he received a set of new quills and the next a thick book on advanced defensive magic. Harry was thrilled with the book especially, and tried to thank Severus, but his father insisted on continuing with the charade and Harry soon gave up. Nonetheless, he thought Severus seemed pleased.

Once he was up and dressed, Harry went down to the Quidditch pitch and practiced flying for a couple hours, coming back inside in time to clean up for lunch. He made sure to either tell Severus where he would be or to leave a note. It was slightly odd still, to know that someone cared about his whereabouts and wanted to keep up with him, but it was all right. Harry understood that Severus wasn't trying to be oppressive; he worried about Harry because he cared.

Harry ate lunch with Severus and the other professors in the Great Hall. He felt a little awkward at first, knowing that he'd caused a disruption when he'd forgotten to leave a note that first day back. He did attempt to apologise when some of the other professors greeted him, but they all seemed to shrug it off good-naturedly and just inquired about his holidays, congratulated him on defeating Voldemort, and told him how happy they all were that he had recovered and was doing well now.

In the afternoons he and Severus were down in the dungeons, either in their quarters or in the potions classroom. Severus was planning lessons, checking his stock of ingredients, and preparing for the year ahead.

The first afternoon Harry read, curled up on the sofa in the parlour, while Severus sat at the dining table with textbooks and scrolls of parchment spread about him. They read and worked in silence for a couple of hours; then Severus cleared the table off and stood.

"I need to go to my office and check on the inventory of potions ingredients, Harry. I'll be back by dinnertime."

Harry looked up from his book. "Can I come with you?"

Severus looked surprised. "Of course, if you wish. I'm aware that my classroom is not your favorite place, and especially after you were injured in my laboratory at home, I've thought that you would probably avoid anything to do with potions unless it was absolutely necessary."

Harry gave him a bemused look. "I'm not that fragile, Severus. I can handle being in the potions classroom. I'd better be able to, anyway. Classes start on Monday."

"Actually, sixth-year potions won't meet until Tuesday," Severus said with a slight smile. "But yes, I understand that you are not fragile. On the contrary, as I said before, you are very strong indeed."

He hesitated and looked more solemn. "However, I also know that my classroom holds a lot of bad memories for you. Your friend Mr. Weasley did not mean to let this slip in my presence, but I did overhear him say that in the past you were ill before every potions class. Harry, I am sorry, truly, about the way I used to treat you. Or mistreat you, actually. I promise you that potions class will be different from now on."

He looked so serious and sorrowful that Harry promptly lay his book down and went to him.

"I know, Severus. I know you're sorry, and I know things will be different now. I really do." He smiled at his father. "I trust you."

Severus placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Thank you, Harry."

"So, is there anything I can do to help? I promise I won't make anything explode," Harry said with mock seriousness.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Severus responded dryly. Then he smiled. "But I suppose checking inventory is harmless enough. Come along, then, if you're certain you don't mind spending the afternoon counting jars of flobberworms."

"Um, is it too late to change my mind?"

Severus looked uncertain, so Harry grinned at him. "I'm just kidding. I'd like to help you, really."

So they spent the next hour in Severus' office and even finished early enough to have a game of Exploding Snap before dinner.

They ate dinner in the Great Hall, too, and then retired back to their rooms, playing chess or card games or reading in the evenings until time for bed. It was a happy, peaceful interlude and Harry enjoyed it, though naturally he kept thinking often of the year ahead. Most of the time he was excited and eager for it to begin. It would be fun to see his other friends, like Neville and Luna, and he had Quidditch to look forward to again.

Best of all, he and Severus were father and son now and things between them were completely different then they ever had been before. Harry no longer had to dread potions, waiting on pins and needles to be humiliated and ridiculed. There would be no more unfair detentions, or the professor sneering or glaring hatefully at him.

No more of that.

Instead Severus loved him and he had a real home. After all the years of dreaming and longing, Harry had someone of his own, finally.

There was one more good thing, too, a very good thing. Voldemort was gone, and many of his Death Eaters were in Azkaban. Harry wouldn't have to spend the year dreading and anticipating some evil plot to capture and kill him. There would be no stone to save, no basilisk to fight, no Triwizard Tournament, no conflicts with the Ministry.

No more war.

In fact, the only dark cloud in Harry's life was the slavery spell, and he was trying to be hopeful about that as well. Severus and Dumbledore were working to find a way to free him. They were both so clever, so powerful and skilled, maybe they could do it. Maybe.

Harry really, really hoped so.

In the meantime, he would pray that it stayed secret and he could finally have a normal uneventful life, like everyone else. There was no reason for anyone to discover the slavery spell, after all. Only a handful of people knew and they were all trustworthy.

There was no real reason for Draco Malfoy or anyone else to be suspicious of the spell the Slytherin boy had cast against Harry at the end of last term. Probably everyone had forgotten it. Students cast hexes and jinxes against each other all the time, after all. No, no one should give the matter a second thought.

Harry refused to think otherwise.

He wanted to just be able to be an ordinary kid, to study for his NEWTS, to complain about homework, to enjoy the Quidditch matches and Hogsmeade weekends and hanging out with friends.

And he wanted to come to school on the Hogswarts Express.

It had never occurred to Harry that Severus might have reservations about him riding on the train and he was surprised when his father grimaced and was silent at his request.

It was evening and they were in the parlour, in the middle of another epic chess match...Harry thought his skills had definitely improved since he and Severus had begun to play against each other. Severus had been about to make a move, but when Harry mentioned the Hogwarts Express, he stopped, frowned, and looked away.

"I don't know," he said finally.

Harry stared at him in amazement. "But why not? I know you'd have to Apparate me to King's Cross, but it would only take a few minutes, wouldn't it? If you're too busy, maybe Dumbledore could do it, or is there a way to Floo, or..."

"Harry, it is not that I'm too busy or that the time would be a factor," Severus interrupted. "I'm just not certain that you being on the Hogwarts Express is a good idea."

Harry wanted to argue, but fortunately he thought better of it. He didn't want to act childish or like a spoiled brat. He wanted to be mature, especially since Severus was always so wonderful to him now.

But he really wanted to ride on the Hogwarts Express, too, and he couldn't understand why in the world his father had a problem with it. Surely, riding on the train with his friends was a harmless enough request. All the other students would do it. Why couldn't he?

He gazed at Severus pleadingly and repeated. "But why not?"

Severus stared at him intently. "Because you are likely to see Draco Malfoy there, and I think it would be wise if I were present when the two of you meet again."

"But I wouldn't do anything..." Harry began and then stopped, because he wasn't sure if it were the truth. Somehow he had not thought much about seeing Malfoy again, but of course it was inevitable.

And Harry really wasn't sure how he would react when he came face to face with the other boy, with the person who had enslaved him.

He wasn't sure how Ron and Hermione would react either. He had meant what he had said earlier in the summer. He didn't want his friends trying to take vengeance for his sake. It wasn't that he was so concerned for Malfoy. He really didn't care a bit what happened to the Slytherin boy. Harry was honest with himself about that.

But he did care greatly what happened to Ron and Hermione, and he was afraid that they might go too far, simply because they loved him so much and they knew how much Malfoy had hurt him.

Of course Ron and Hermione would likely see Malfoy on the train whether Harry was along or not, but he had an idea that his friends might be even more reckless if Harry were there.

Well, he would see if he could firecall Ron at the Burrow and tell him that he would just have to see them at school. He'd ask Ron not to go overboard with Malfoy, too, while he was at it.

Harry realised that his father was studying him and he nodded. It was silly to be so upset over a stupid train ride, he told himself. He'd see his friends at the Welcoming Feast tomorrow night, and then all year long.

So he took a deep breath and said quietly. "Yes, sir. I guess you're right. May I be excused please?"

He must not have done a very good job of hiding his disappointment because Severus reached over to stop him from rising.

"Wait," his father said softly. "I might have an idea."

Platform Nine and Three Quarters was crowded, as it always was on the morning of September the 1st. Families gathered together in little knots, hugging and saying good-bye; first-year students looked either fearful or eager; older kids called to one another and hurried to join friends; younger siblings watched enviously and parents surreptitiously wiped tears from their eyes even as the great scarlet steam engine puffed out billows of white smoke.

A steady rain fell against the domed glass ceiling and though those inside were protected from the worst of the cool damp weather, it was still chilly. Harry shivered slightly and was glad that Severus had insisted on ordering more winter clothes for him. Today he was wearing a thick dark green rugby shirt with a navy stripe across the chest and a new pair of jeans, along with his trainers.

Of course he would have to change into his Hogwarts uniform before the train arrived at its destination that evening, but Harry had his school clothes, shrunken and neatly folded, in his pocket.

Severus had noticed him shiver. "Are you warm enough?" The professor was dressed warmly himself, in his usual black robes, though these were his nicer ones, with emerald and silver braid along the linings.

Harry nodded. "Yes, thanks, and thanks for arranging all this for me, Severus."

His father nodded. "You are welcome." His voice was solemn, but his eyes were warm and kind.

Harry smiled at him; then caught sight of a familiar group coming through the barrier from the Muggle side of the station. "Oh, there are the Weasleys. Come on."

As they made their way through the crowd, some of the students recognised them and stared at the sight of Severus Snape and Harry Potter walking side by side, apparently quite amicably, but no one dared to approach them or say anything, though the teenagers cast curious glances at one another and muttered among themselves when the Potions Master and the slight dark-haired boy had passed.

Harry was aware of the attention, but he ignored it. People shouldn't be so surprised. The newspaper articles had said that he'd been staying with Severus all summer and would continue to do so, but he supposed that the actual sight of the two of them together, and not at each other's throats, was still rather a shock to the Hogwarts' students.

Of course it would be nothing compared to when they discovered that he and Severus considered themselves father and son. But that was all right with Harry. He hoped that most people would be accepting, and if he were honest with himself, he had to admit that he was a little nervous about how his other Gryffindor friends would react. He really hoped that they at least would be supportive, once the initial shock had passed, but even if they weren't...

Well, Severus was his father and Harry loved him. He was happy and grateful to have a family and he wasn't going to let anyone ruin that for him. Severus was watching him and once he saw that Harry had noticed, he raised an eyebrow slightly. Harry smiled to show him that he wasn't concerned about the whispers. The corners of Severus' mouth quirked upwards in response.

They joined the Weasleys, where Mrs. Weasley promptly engulfed Harry in an exuberant embrace and the rest of the redheaded clan gathered around, clapping him on the back and shaking his hand. Severus looked slightly startled when they greeted him enthusiastically as well, but then he relaxed, nodded, and returned the handclasps with more warmth than was his custom.

"Sorry we're late. We waited for you a few minutes before Dad said you were probably already here at Platform Nine and Three Quarters," Ron remarked to Harry.

"Oh, yeah, Severus Apparated us directly here," Harry explained.

"Wish Mum and Dad would have done that for us, too, but I suppose it might have been difficult with all our stuff." Ginny eyed their enormous cartload of bags with Pigwidgeon's owl cage perched precariously on top.

"Sorry, guess I should have told you how we were coming, but I didn't think about it," Harry told them.

Ron shrugged. "No problem. Neither did we."

Just then another family came through the barrier and bumped into them.

"Oh, excuse us, we're most sorry," Mr. Weasley said solicitously before motioning to his own family. "We'd best get out of the way."

So they all moved off a bit to the right. Besides the Weasley parents, Ron, and Ginny, Fred and George were along to see them off, too, so they made a rather large crowd. Harry noticed that they were all dressed nicely again, with the twins and Ron in shirts like his own, though Ron's was a deep royal blue, while the twins wore bright canary yellow and black trousers instead of jeans like Ron and himself.

Ginny wore a rose shirt and a rose and brown patterned skirt with brown boots. Her dark red hair fell to her waist, long and thick, and Harry thought that she looked quite pretty, though he quickly squashed that thought. He couldn't afford to think like that. It would only lead to hurt. Even if there were some girl who might be interested in a short, scrawny guy like him, he was still a slave and no girl would ever want to date a slave.

For a moment Harry felt the familiar pain and shame threatening to overwhelm him, but then there was a light touch on his arm and he turned to see his father studying him in concern. He shoved the dark feelings away to the back of his mind. Today was supposed to be a fun occasion. Severus had given up his last planning day so that Harry could ride on the Hogwarts Express with his friends, and it would be ungrateful of him to mope about and ruin it.

Not to mention, he'd been looking forward to today and he didn't want to spoil things for himself. There would be plenty of time in the future to be depressed about the slavery spell, after all.

Years and years of time.

Oh, he was doing it again. Harry shoved the gloominess away once more with grim determination and nodded almost fiercely at his father, who didn't look reassured in the slightest.

Severus wasn't the only one who had noticed his mercurial mood either. Before the professor could say or do anything, Ron stepped close to Harry and asked quietly, "Everything all right, mate?"

Harry nodded. In an effort to change the subject, he asked, "Where's Hermione?"

Ron looked as if he knew what Harry was doing and for another moment he just watched his friend, with a vaguely unhappy and worried expression. But then he seemed to decide not to press the matter.

"She's coming with her parents. They should be here any minute," he replied, looking around.

As if on cue, the Grangers appeared in the distance, Hermione's father carrying her bag for her and Hermione herself holding onto Crookshank's traveling case. Ron waved to them and they came hurrying over. The adults greeted one another cordially while Hermione set her cat down and then threw her arms around both Harry and Ginny.

"Harry, Ginny! It's so good to see you!" She brushed her hair back from her face and gave Ron a rather shy look. "Hi, Ron."

"Hi, Hermione." Ron seemed a bit flushed as he and Hermione hugged. Harry raised one eyebrow at them. He'd long suspected that his two best friends had feelings for one another that were not quite familial and for their sakes', he was happy. But he did have to worry over whether it might affect their friendship. And if Ron and Hermione did start a relationship...well, a dating relationship, that is...where would it leave him? Harry didn't think he could get along without his brother and sister.

But then he felt ashamed of himself for being so selfish. He loved Ron and Hermione. If they wanted to date, he should be happy for them. He was happy for them, he told himself firmly. And it was probably foolish to worry, anyway. Ron and Hermione weren't dating yet, and if they did decide to do so at some point, it didn't mean they would forget about him. Their friendship was stronger than that.

Wasn't it?

Fred called to Ginny, and she strolled back over to her parents and the twins as Ron and Hermione stepped apart. Ron noticed Harry's expression. He grinned. "Hey, you've got the arched eyebrow thing down. Better watch it. You look like exactly like Sn...um, your father."

"Are you implying that that would be a bad thing, Mr. Weasley?" Severus cut in smoothly.

Ron's face turned as red as his hair. "No, sir! Not at all. I just meant, with the eyebrow and all...um,"

They all stared in stunned amazement, even Harry, when after a moment of glowering in mock severity, Severus relaxed and actually chuckled. "Never mind, Mr. Weasley. I simply have to get in a bit of practice before term starts."

Just then, a little further down the platform, a scuffle broke out between two groups of younger boys and Severus heaved a sigh.

"As I am officially here as a faculty supervisor, I suppose I ought to restore order and strike fear into the hearts of miscreant students. Harry, remember what we discussed." He headed off to break up the fight.

Ron and Hermione looked curiously at Harry. "What did you discuss?"

Harry shrugged. "Oh, nothing much. Just, Severus is kind of worried that we'll over-react if we see Malfoy. That's why he's here actually, to ‘run interference' if Malfoy and his goons show up. He asked me to stay within eyesight until we're all settled on the train."

"Humph, well, if I see Malfoy, I'm going to..." Ron began, scowling at the mere mention of the Slytherin boy's name.

"Do nothing at all, unless he provokes you first, and then you will call for me or for another professor if it is at all possible," Severus interrupted, giving them all a stern look.

They all jumped in surprise at his sudden re-appearance. But then Ron burst out, "You can't mean that you're just going to let him get away with...what he did to Harry!"

"Lower your voice at once, Mr. Weasley, unless you wish to announce the news to the entire platform," Severus answered coolly.

Ron frowned, but then dropped his gaze and muttered. "Sorry, sir." He glanced over at his friend. "Sorry, Harry. We won't let anyone know, promise."

Harry nodded and glanced at his father because he did want to know if Severus would answer Ron. He really hadn't thought much about Malfoy, which was kind of strange, actually, now that he thought about it, but he was curious to know if the other boy would face any consequences.

Severus' gaze swept over the three of them. After a moment he cast the muffliato spell and said quietly, "As a matter of fact, no, we do not intend to ‘just let Mr. Malfoy get away' with anything. Truthfully, criminal charges should be brought against him, but if we did, the entire wizarding world would know every detail and Harry doesn't want that."

"Right," Harry put in swiftly.

"So we have to handle the matter privately. Albus has come up with an idea for a punishment for Mr. Malfoy, but I'm not sure if it is the best way to handle the situation, and we are still discussing his plan. But in the meantime, I am his Head of House, and I'm sure you three can attest to the fact that I can certainly make a student's life difficult. Even more so when that student is a Slytherin, if I so wish."

Hermione looked satisfied and Ron slowly grinned. "Brilliant, sir."

"I'm so glad you approve," Severus drawled. Then he grew more serious. "Now, believe it or not, I have no wish to place you in detention this year. You are Harry's good friends and I appreciate how supportive you've been these past few weeks. However, if you begin a fight right before my eyes, I'll have little choice in the matter. I assure you all that Mr. Malfoy will be severely punished. He has hurt my son, and I won't let that pass. But the three of you need to stay out of it, if at all possible. Do you understand."

He waited until they had reluctantly nodded, none of them looking particularly happy. Then he nodded back at them and swept off to scowl at some older students who had become loud and boisterous.

"He doesn't really think that we're going to tattle to professors every time Malfoy crosses our path, does he?" Ron remarked. "We'd end up being the outcasts then."

"No, he knows we can't," Harry agreed. "But he is a professor. He has to say stuff like that."

"I think Professor Snape was warning us, too, not to start something right in front of him," Hermione added. "But if he doesn't actually see us involved, he might not investigate too strongly."

"Well, I just hope he's not around when I see Malfoy then," Ron replied. "But even if he is, it'll be worth it if I can just get in one good curse first."

Harry looked at him. "But don't do anything too bad, Ron. I don't want you getting into a lot of trouble for me."

"But it's just not right. He should be in Azkaban," the red-haired boy said in a low, but angry voice.

Harry just kept on staring at him with a troubled expression. He'd been afraid of this. He didn't want Ron's temper to get the better of him and have his best friend end up in serious trouble because he was trying to exact justice for Harry.

Hermione spoke up. "Malfoy's not going to get off, Ron. You heard Professor Snape. I think that if Malfoy starts something, then we'll go after him, but if he doesn't, then we should wait and see what Dumbledore and Professor Snape have in mind. If we don't think it's enough, then we'll come up with something ourselves."

"But what could they do to him that would be enough, Hermione?" Ron demanded bitterly. "Harry's whole life is affected. He almost died. I can't think of anything, except maybe Azkaban, that would be enough punishment for Malfoy."

"I am actually here, Ron," Harry said dryly. "You don't have to talk about me like I'm not."

"What do you want us to do, Harry?" Hermione asked.

Harry sighed. "I don't know. I suppose like you said, wait and see what Severus and Dumbledore do, and then we'll see. But if he starts something first..."

"Then he'll regret it to his dying day," Ron said grimly.

"We may be getting in a fuss for nothing," Hermione said after a moment. "It's almost eleven and there's no sign of Malfoy. Maybe he did decide to transfer to another school or be tutored at home or something. He's got to know he's in trouble with Dumbledore if he comes back to Hogwarts."

"He'll be back." Harry shook his head. It would be too much to hope for that he'd never have to see Draco Malfoy again.

"Well, I think we've spent entirely too much time being upset over Malfoy," Hermione said firmly. "Come on, forget about him and let's go say good-bye to everyone. We'll need to board the train in a minute."

So they re-joined the larger group. There was a great round of hugs and handshakes, admonitions to be careful, entreaties to write often, and well-wishes.

Fred and George slipped a box into Harry's hands. "Some of our newest stuff and a few old favourites." Fred winked at him. "Just a little ‘thank you' for helping us get our start. Use it well."

"Um, thanks," Harry managed to say just as the steam engine gave a great blast of its horn and they had to hurriedly grab their bags and scramble aboard.

The Hogwarts Express was crowded inside as kids hurried to find compartments. Ron and Hermione had to meet with the other prefects up front for a time and they vanished into the first carriage after promising to join Harry as soon as possible. Ginny spotted some friends of her own and took off after them, smiling over her shoulder and saying, "See you later, Harry."

For a second Harry stood in the aisle, feeling slightly lost, but then he shrugged and began hunting for a place to sit. Severus was farther down the aisle, glaring at the excited, chattering students and brusquely ordering them to find their seats. The sight of his father and the box in his hands was a sharp painful reminder to Harry. He wasn't allowed to own anything. Did the twins' gift count?

Well, as much as he hated knowing that he was a slave and the restrictions of the spell, Harry wasn't going to take a chance on it deciding to punish him. He vividly remembered Dumbledore warning him that the penalty for breaking a magical contract could be to suffer horrific excruciating pain and he definitely didn't want to risk that.

Harry swallowed hard and began hurrying towards Severus. He needed to get to his father and resolve this issue. He'd already wasted several long minutes. How much time would the spell allow before it began punishing him?

He pushed past other kids, muttering "sorry" and "excuse me" as he went...until all of a sudden he found himself face to face with a slender boy with grey eyes and white-blond hair.

Draco Malfoy.

For a second the two of them stared at one another, frozen. A great rush of fury and pain welled up inside Harry. He almost dropped the box to jerk his wand from his sleeve, but before he could, Malfoy swept by without a word and disappeared into an empty compartment, slamming the door behind him.

Harry stared blankly after him, torn between his tumultuous anger and hurt, and an empty deflated feeling that their confrontation hadn't amounted to anything after all. After all of Severus' concern and his friends' intense protectiveness, this actual meeting was rather disappointingly anticlimactic.

He realized suddenly that Severus was at his side.

"What happened?" His father demanded in a low tone.

Harry slowly shook his head. "Nothing. We didn't even speak."

Severus frowned thoughtfully at the closed compartment door behind which Draco Malfoy had disappeared. For a second Harry stared, too, but then he remembered why he had been so anxious to reach his father.

"Severus, quick, the twins gave this to me and I can't own anything!" He said in a fierce whisper. Severus glanced down at the box Harry was trying to force into his hands and then pulled him into the nearest compartment...fortunately, it was empty...and closed the door.

Severus conjured a sheet of parchment and a quill and swiftly scribbled a few sentences before thrusting them at Harry and taking the box in one smooth move. "Sign this."

Harry scrawled his name and then sank down on the seat, feeling as if his legs might give out at any moment. He'd made it in time. He was safe. He closed his eyes and began to shake.

His father sat beside him, sliding an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close. "Shh," Severus murmured softly, touching his lips to Harry's hair. "It's all right. There's no need to panic. Do you remember that first statement that Albus had you sign, when you woke up from the spell at the beginning of summer? The one where you gave your belongings to me?"

Harry nodded.

"Well, I believe he wrote a clause that included any items which might be given to you in the future, so I think you would have been safe even if you hadn't been able to give this box to me. But I had you sign the paper now anyway, just in case. Tonight I'll read over that original parchment again to be certain, but I don't think you have to panic every time someone hands you something. All right now?"

Harry opened his eyes and nodded again.

Severus kissed the top of his head and then sat back to regard him intently. "Are you certain nothing happened between you and Draco Malfoy?"

Harry drew a breath and forced himself to relax. "Yeah, I mean, yes, sir, I'm sure. He just brushed past me and went into that carriage."

"Hmm, that doesn't sound like him," Severus said.

A knock on the door interrupted them and as Harry and Severus turned to look, it opened and Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood poked their heads in.

"Harry, someone said you were in here. Is it all right if..." Neville abruptly broke off when he saw Severus, staring wide-eyed at the professor as if he were some sort of dangerous beast.

Luna just smiled serenely at them. She wore a particularly garish purple and red jumper and a faded pair of blue jeans, along with pink trainers. Her long blonde hair hung in two plaits over her shoulders. "Hello, Professor. Hello, Harry. Neville and I were searching for a place to sit."

Harry smiled back at them. "Sure, come on in, guys."

Severus murmured to himself, "I suppose it would be all right as long as I stay near by," and Harry knew he was concerned about Draco Malfoy being so close to their carriage. He had no doubts that Severus would spend the rest of the day between the two compartments, and never mind the rest of the train.

Severus nodded at Harry. "Very well. I shall be in the compartment next door if you need me."

He stood and strode out, snapping at Neville as he went. "Do close your mouth, Longbottom, unless you're actually trying to look imbecilic!"

After he had gone, Neville and Luna came in, placed their luggage overhead, and sat down beside one another, facing Harry.

"Um, I guess you're getting along better with Snape these days, huh?" Neville asked doubtfully.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, he's really different now. Well, I guess he wasn't with you, sorry about that, Neville."

Neville shrugged. "Not your fault. I just expect it from him now. But if you're all right with him, I guess that's good."

Luna nodded in agreement.

Harry smiled gratefully at them. They really were good friends. "Thanks," he said softly.

The train gave a lurch, then another.

"Oh, we're off," Luna exclaimed, sounding absolutely thrilled at the prospect.

They waved to the parents outside on the platform as the train pulled away with ever increasing speed. Platform Nine and Three Quarters was left behind, a mere speck in the distance.

Harry and his friends settled in for the journey.

Ron and Hermione came in after about an hour. Harry, Neville, and Luna had spent the time chatting about the summer holidays. Or to be more truthful, Harry had mostly been listening to Neville's account of visiting his Great-Uncle Algie in London and Luna telling how she and her father had spent a few weeks in Sweden looking for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks.

"Of course we didn't actually see any. They become invisible whenever people are near, you know, but we did see many signs, like trampled grass where they'd crashed through the underbrush and piles of twigs where they were building nests," Luna said complacently.

Harry blinked. "Um, that's good," he offered uncertainly.

Then Neville and Luna wanted to hear a firsthand account of Harry had beaten Voldemort and though he was tired of telling it by now, Harry thought that these two did deserve to hear it from him, especially after the way they had stuck by him at the Ministry battle last spring.

He had just finished when Ron and Hermione joined them, sitting down beside Harry.

"I can't believe he didn't tell me!" Ron exclaimed, flopping down on the seat beside Harry. "Oh, hey, guys." He nodded to Neville and Luna.

"Who didn't tell you what?" Harry asked, looking from Ron to Hermione.

Hermione sat down on Ron's other side, greeted everyone and said, "Well, at our meeting we found out who the new Defense professor is."

"Who?" Harry, Neville, and Luna all spoke at once.

"My brother Bill," Ron told them. "And he didn't let on at all, that sly dog. Although to be honest, I haven't seen much of Bill this summer. He's been in France finishing some job for Gringotts."

"I was kind of hoping it might be Remus again," Harry said quietly, but then he thought that might sound a little rude to Ron so he hurried to add, "But Bill will be really good, too."

"Well, you knew Remus probably wouldn't be able to come back. I mean, now that people know he's a werewolf, a lot of parents would be in an uproar," Ron remarked.

"But that's so unfair," Harry scowled at all the unseen parents who would bar Remus from teaching again.

"Remus himself probably wouldn't come back, even if Dumbledore offered him the position. He left Hogwarts on his own, remember. He was more upset than anyone when he forgot to take the Wolfsbane," Hermione added.

"I just haven't seen him in so long," Harry sighed.

Hermione asked softly, "Why don't you write to him, Harry?"

Harry had thought about it, but the truth was, he was afraid to. He knew that Remus probably blamed him for Sirius' death. Why wouldn't he? Harry was to blame. No doubt that was the reason he hadn't contacted Harry in so long. But still, if Harry wrote to him and Remus wrote back, telling Harry how much he hated him, that his stupidity and carelessness had killed Sirius...well, that would hurt more than Harry could bear. The only thing that might be worse would be if Remus didn't respond at all.

And yet he did want to see Remus again. He had always liked Remus, even though he never would let Harry become too close to him. And Remus was his last link to his parents and Sirius.

Well, it was something he'd have to think about, but Harry didn't want to discuss it right now, in front of Neville and Luna. As good friends as they were, there were some things he didn't want to share with anyone besides Ron and Hermione.

And Severus.

Perhaps he could talk with his father about contacting Remus. There was no love lost between Severus and Remus, Harry knew that, but he thought that for his sake, his father would try to help.

But for right now, he just nodded and said noncomittantly, "I might."

"Well, Bill ought to be a really good instructor, too, since he's worked as a cursebreaker for ten years," Hermione said after a moment.

Ron nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, remember when we went to Eygpt a couple of summers ago? Bill showed us this cave where he helped to kill a nundu. It had slaughtered a whole village of Muggles before they got it. Course the Muggles thought it was because of a disease. Then there was a pyramid that was infested with blood-sucking bugbears and Bill was the lead wizard on the team that captured them."

They talked about Bill Weasley's exploits and speculated on the skills he might teach for a little while longer and then began unpacking their lunches. There was a collection of meat pies, sandwiches, fruit, and biscuits, and a good deal of trading went on before everyone was satisfied.

As they were finishing and Hermione was vanishing everyone's trash, Ron remarked, "You know, I never did see Malfoy. Maybe he isn't coming back to Hogwarts."

"No, he's here. I saw him," Harry corrected.

Ron and Hermione both looked at him sharply.

"You did? Where? When?" Ron demanded while Hermione leaned over and asked quietly, "Did anything happen?"

Harry shook his head. "No, it was a bit of a letdown, actually. We came face to face in the corridor, but then he just went on into a carriage, just a little ways down in fact, and shut the door. We didn't even speak."

Harry noticed that Neville and Luna were watching them and realised that perhaps they were making too much of seeing the blond boy. He shrugged with pretended casualness. "It was no big deal."

"That's rather odd," Hermione murmured. "He must be in there all alone, because we saw Crabbe and Goyle sitting with Pansy Parkinson and some other Slytherins in another carriage, but Malfoy wasn't with them. That's why we thought he might not be back after all."

"Why wouldn't Malfoy be back?" Neville asked. "And wasn't he at the prefects' meeting? He's one of the Slytherin prefects."

Ron shook his head, looking smug. "Not anymore. Blaise Zabini's taking his place."

"I suppose Dumbledore took that away from him after he hit Harry with that unknown spell last term," Luna said calmly. "But that does seem a bit harsh." She gazed speculatively at Harry. "Unless there's more to that spell than we know."

For a second Harry froze. For all her otherworldly feyness, Luna had a way of recognizing truth. He forced himself to relax and appear unconcerned. "No, but casting an unknown spell is against the law. How did you know about it anyway?"

Neville gave him a bemused look. "Well, you were unconscious and in the infirmary for the last couple days of the term, Harry. It would have been rather hard for us not to notice. We all went up to visit you. Ron and Hermione practically lived in the infirmary. We were really worried about you but Dumbledore said you would be fine."

"And I am," Harry said firmly. Then he had to smile at them. "But thanks for visiting and for...you know, worrying."

"Of course we were worried, Harry. You're our friend," Luna said with simple sweetness.

Harry could feel himself turning red. "You're my friends, too," He said quietly, and was glad when the witch pushing the trolley cart came by just then.

They chose an assortment of Cauldron Cakes, Pumpkin Pasties, Bertie Bott's Everyflavour Beans, and Chocolate Frogs, and spent the rest of the afternoon munching on their snacks, playing gobstones and Exploding Snap, and gossiping about minor school matters.

The train steadily climbed northwards, wending its way through fields and woods. They left the rain behind and pale sunlight peeked through the clouds before dimming as the afternoon grew late.

Hermione checked the time. "We'd better change into our robes. We'll be there soon."

She and Luna left to go to the restroom and when they returned a short while later wearing their Hogwarts uniforms and black robes, the boys had changed as well. Not long after that, the train slowed and pulled into the Hogsmeade station.

Harry stood and helped Neville with his bags...Neville had his hands full trying to hold onto his toad Trevor...and they pushed their way into the aisle, joining the throng of other students. Severus appeared from the neighboring carriage and even though the aisle had been crowded, students hurriedly jumped out of his way as he came towards Harry.

"I suppose you wish to ride up to the school with your friends?" Severus asked.

Harry nodded and Hermione offered, "You could ride with us, sir, if you'd like."

Neville gaped at her, but Severus either didn't notice or forebore to mention it. Instead he simply inclined his head at Hermione.

"Thank you, Miss Granger, but I will Apparate to the school gates once I've seen you all into your carriage."

Trevor chose that moment to give a great wriggle and managed to escape Neville's clutches. The toad leaped into air, bounced against Severus' chest and fell to the floor, where he sat, seemingly content, on the professor's gleaming boots.

Neville turned as white as a ghost. "Sorry, Professor Snape," he said in a strangled voice as he hurriedly snatched at his pet.

"I suggest you learn to control that beast, Longbottom, before it ends up in my stock of potions ingredients," Severus said coldly. He glared at some nearby students who had paused to stare at them. "Move along!"

As they made their way down the aisle to disembark, Severus laid his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Have you had a good time?"

Harry nodded and smiled up at him. "Yeah, I did." He glimpsed a movement out of the corner of his eye and glanced over his shoulder to see Draco Malfoy, standing alone in the now empty aisle, watching them with a strange expression on his pale face.

But he had no time to dwell on Draco Malfoy. The platform outside was crowded with youngsters rushing every which way, and Severus quickly ushered Harry and his friends into one of the thestral-drawn carriages.

"I will see you at the castle," Severus told them before he Dis-Apparated.

Their carriage began moving, one in a long line that crawled along the lane leading to Hogwarts. Harry saw Hagrid calling for the first-years to follow him to the boats for their traditional lake-crossing, and waved to him before settling back against his seat. Soon the great castle itself came into sight, its turrets a black outline against the darkening sky and its lighted windows casting a welcoming glow.

When their carriage pulled up to the doors, Harry and his friends piled out and followed the horde inside. Severus, along with the other professors, stood in the front hall. Bill Weasley was among them, his long hair pulled back in a ponytail and wearing dark brown robes. He looked more professional than Harry had ever seen him.

Ron darted over to him. "Bill! Why didn't you tell us?"

Bill grinned. "Well, I didn't know for sure that I'd get the job until a few days ago. In fact, I didn't think I would. There were several other candidates with more teaching experience. Then it seemed a shame to ruin the surprise. And it's Professor Weasley now."

Ron groaned and turned to Harry and Hermione. "Give them a little power and it goes right to their heads."

"You lot run on and get seats," Bill told them. "I'll see you in class tomorrow."

Harry stepped close to Severus. "You didn't even tell us, either."

"I did not know until today that Bill Weasley would be on staff," Severus replied. "Albus always enjoys springing the Defense professor on us at the last minute. Now do as he said and find your seats."

Harry could feel his father's gaze trained on him until he was safely ensconced at the Gryffindor table, surrounded by friends. For a while the Great Hall was abuzz with chatter and laughter as students reunited with friends and called to one another. Harry couldn't help but remember the last Feast and how different the mood had been then.

Eventually Dumbledore, resplendent in emerald-green robes, led the professors in, except for Professor Sprout...Harry supposed that it must be her turn to greet the first-years. The last straggling students headed for their tables. Harry had been keeping an eye on the doorway to the front hall, watching for his father even as he talked with his friends. He noticed that Draco Malfoy, still all alone, had been lurking in the shadows near the door. When Severus appeared, the blond boy approached him and started to speak, but Severus seemed to cut him off sharply and gestured for him to join the other Slytherins before stalking away to the staff table.

Malfoy stared after him, with that same expression that he had worn on the Hogwarts Express, before his shoulders slumped, just for an instant. Then he lifted his chin and went to the Slytherin table where he slid in beside Crabbe and Goyle.

Harry turned away then, though, for Dumbledore had begun to speak.

"Good evening. I am delighted to see you all again. Our first order of business is, of course, to welcome the newest members of the Hogwarts family. Professor Sprout, please show our first-year students in."

Plump Professor Sprout led in the line of first-years while Hagrid joined the rest of the faculty and Professor McGonagall brought out the ancient Sorting Hat. Soon the sorting process had begun. Gryffindor acquired its share of new members, as did the other three Houses.

When the last tiny eleven-year-old had scurried off to sit at the Hufflepuff table, Dumbledore stood again and addressed them all. "Welcome to Hogwarts. I know I always have difficulty paying attention on an empty stomach, so now; our feast."

He clapped his hands and enormous platters of food rose through the table: lamb chops, pork roasts, grilled chicken and fish, every kind of vegetable, pitchers of pumpkin juice, and then plates of puddings and treacle tarts. Everyone set to eating and for a while conversation was sparse.

When at last everyone had eaten their fill, Dumbledore gave his opening speech. He introduced the staff, reminded the students about staying away from the Forbidden Forest, and gave the dates for Quidditch tryouts.

Then he caught Harry's eye and cleared his throat. Harry quickly looked down at the now empty table. He knew what was coming and dreaded it. He really didn't want Dumbledore to talk about how he had won against Voldemort but he supposed the headmaster would almost have to say something about the end of the war.

"We have a special reason to celebrate this year. I'm sure that by now you have heard of how Mr. Potter faced and defeated Voldemort. I know that he does not want any extra attention, but we would all be most remiss if we did not acknowledge Mr. Potter's courage and show our gratitude, at least this once."

Dumbledore began to clap and a heartbeat later all the other professors, including Severus joined him. Then the students...most of them, at least...began cheering. Some of the Slytherins glared and pointedly kept their hands in their laps. Harry glanced at them and was surprised to see that Malfoy was not one of those glowering at him, but instead was sitting quietly, staring blankly into space.

The applause went on for several long minutes and Harry wished he could sink through the floor. He was glad when Dumbledore held up his hands for silence.

"And now another exciting year lies before us. But it grows late and classes are early. So good night."

Everyone stood and began making their way towards their respective dormitories. Hermione called to the Gryffindor first-years while Ron leaned over to Harry and said in a low voice, "I know you've got to live with Sn...Professor Snape, but do you think you could come up to the Tower til curfew?"

"I'll ask," Harry said, and he and Ron pushed through the crowd to get up to the staff table. Severus had apparently anticipated his request because as soon as Harry opened his mouth to ask, his father quietly slipped a small bag into his hand.

"Floo powder," Severus said. "I would prefer for you not to wander alone through the corridors, especially in the dungeons. Please do be aware of the time. Curfew is in one hour."

"Thanks." Harry beamed as Ron pulled him away.

"Yes, thanks, Professor," Ron called over his shoulder.

They caught up with the other Gryffindors and led the way up to their Tower dormitories. Harry learned that the password this year was Semper Virtus and the Fat Lady even offered her congratulations to him as well.

Once inside the older students claimed the sofas and chairs in the common room and the next hour sped by in a happy boisterous daze. Everyone crowded around Harry, talked about the holidays and the upcoming year, and in spite of having eaten a huge dinner, ate sweets and drank bottles of butterbeer that Seamus Finnegan had brought up.

Harry couldn't believe how quickly the time went by and he was surprised when Hermione lightly poked him in the arm.

"Harry, I'm not trying to be a spoilsport, but it is almost curfew," she told him regretfully.

He sighed and stood. "Yeah, I guess I'd better get going then."

Some of the others had obviously not heard the news that he would be living with Severus from now on.

"Go? Where are you going?" Lavendar Brown asked and a few others looked puzzled as well.

Harry realised that he really didn't want to have to go through the explanations again...well, the phony explanations anyway. He hated lying to everyone, but he just couldn't see any way around it without having to explain about the spell, and he certainly wasn't about to do that.

He stepped towards the fireplace. "Ron and Hermione can explain," he said, shooting them a pleading look. They nodded and Harry Flooed away.

***

Severus was sitting on the sofa when Harry tumbled out of the fireplace in their parlour. The clock on the wall chimed and Severus smiled at him.

"Right on time."

Harry nodded. "Yes, I'll be right back."

He went into his room and sat down on the bed. He didn't really have anything to do in there, but for some reason, he was feeling a little upset about having to leave the Tower and he didn't want his father to see it.

He was just being silly, and Harry himself was surprised at his sudden melancholy. He had been in a good mood most of the day. It had been fun to see all of his friends and to know the new school year was beginning. He didn't know why he was so sad all of a sudden. It was crazy because he loved Severus; he loved the room Severus had created for him; and he loved having a father and a real home. That was a million times worth the sacrifice of not living in the dormitory.

But just this one night he wished he could have stayed up in the Tower with everyone else.

He could have, if only he weren't a slave.

"Harry? Is everything all right?"

Harry looked up to see Severus standing in the doorway. Apparently he wasn't very good at hiding things.

He forced himself to smile. "Sure. I was just...looking for my pyjamas."

"Oh. May I come in?"

Harry nodded. "Of course."

Severus came and sat beside him. "You know the spell does allow you to be away from me for three months of the year. There are times when you could stay up there overnight."

Harry considered, but then shook his head. "But we've already told people that I have to be monitored every night. Everybody thinks that's why I'm here. Wouldn't it look strange if some nights I was able to be away, but not all the time?"

"We'll give the matter some thought," Severus promised. "Perhaps we could come up with a plausible reason."

His father was so determined to help him, so determined for him to be happy, that it brought a lump to Harry's throat.

He turned and flung his arms around Severus.

"I love you, Severus."

Severus looked startled, but he returned the embrace. "I love you, too, Harry."

Harry sat back and looked at him, his face serious. "And I love living with you. I really do. Having my own home...and having you...it's what I always dreamed of. And I don't mind living here instead of the Tower, at least I won't most of the time. It was just tonight, with everyone back together for the first time...it was kind of hard to have to leave."

Severus nodded. "I understand, and I'm sorry."

Harry hugged him again, wanting to be sure that his father truly did understand. "But I do love living with you."

Severus patted his back. "Yes, Harry. I do understand what you're saying. I'm not hurt that you wanted to spend more time with your friends on the first night back at school. It's very normal and understandable."

Harry leaned against him. "Thanks, Severus."

"Why don't you come back out to the parlour with me and we'll have a cup of cocoa before bed?" His father offered.

Harry thought of all the sweets he'd had that day and for once, hot cocoa was not appealing. "I'd love to come back out to the parlour with you, but maybe we could save the cocoa for another night."

"Ah, the students are gorging themselves on chocolates and butterbeer, are they?" Severus commented. "It is a mystery to me how you all are not sick as dogs by the time school actually begins. The advantages of youth, I suppose."

Later that night, Harry lay in his bed, warm and drowsy and feeling much better. It did help a lot to know that Severus loved him and wanted him to be happy.

He was looking forward to classes the next morning, and thinking back over the events of the day when he remembered the expression on Draco Malfoy's face when he had seen Severus and Harry together on the Hogwarts Express and later on, when he had tried to speak with Severus and the Potions Master had brushed him off. Both times the Slytherin boy had looked lost and lonely, and...more. There had been a look in his eyes that Harry had recognised, a haunted look of grief and unbearable pain.

But no, he must be wrong. If Draco Malfoy were upset about anything, it would just be that he was in trouble with Dumbledore. That was all.

Surely.

The morning of September 2nd was overcast and windy. Harry woke early and was tempted to snuggle down under the blankets to doze for a while, as he'd been doing for the past few days, but then he remembered.

It was the first day of class and there was no time for lying in that morning.

He gave an indignant little huff, but in spite of it he smiled as he threw back the covers and hurriedly changed from his plaid flannel pyjamas into his school uniform: white shirt, dark grey trousers and jumper, socks and shoes. It was slightly cool, enough that Harry was glad to pull his jumper over his head, but not terribly so. Severus must have cast another warming spell either last night after Harry had fallen asleep or early this morning.

Harry fixed the crimson and gold Gryffindor tie around his neck and headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth and hair.

A few minutes later he went out to the parlour, carrying his robe and schoolbag over his arm. Severus was sitting on the sofa, wearing his customary black clothes and glancing through his lesson plans.

He looked up and smiled. "Good morning. Are you ready to go up for breakfast?"

Harry set the bag down to slip his robe on. "I think so."

Severus gathered his sheets of parchment and tucked them into an inside pocket of his own robe. "You have Defense, Charms, and Herbology today?"

"Yes, sir. And Transfiguration and Potions tomorrow." As he spoke, Harry seriously wondered for the first time what Potions class would be like for him now. Severus had promised not to mistreat him again and Harry believed him. He wasn't worried about that anymore, but it would seem strange not to have to dread Potions so, not to have his stomach tie up in knots and make him sick, not to have to sit in the classroom waiting to be attacked.

He must have looked pensive or anxious or something because Severus stepped close in concern. "Harry, is something wrong?"

Harry abruptly decided that he didn't want to make his father feel any worse about the past than he already did and there really wasn't anything wrong, was there?

He twined his arms around Severus' waist. "No, nothing's wrong. I was just thinking that everything ought to be great this year. Voldemort's gone so I don't have to worry about him, and..." he looked away, suddenly feeling shy. "And I have you now, too. I'm sorry I was a prat last night. I'm happy living here. I really would rather be here than up in the Tower."

Severus placed an arm around his shoulders and held him close in a one-armed embrace for a moment. "You weren't a prat last night, Harry. I already told you I understood how you felt." He gave Harry's back a little pat and stepped back. "We'd best head upstairs now."

Harry grabbed his schoolbag and they started to leave, but at the door, Severus touched his shoulder and said softly, "And I'm very happy to have you as well."

Harry smiled at him as they stepped into the outside corridor and Severus closed the door behind them.

A group of younger Slytherins, two girls and two boys, were walking along the hallway also. Harry didn't think they were first-years. They didn't look quite that small and they seemed more confident and talkative than first-years normally were in the beginning. Perhaps they were twelve or thirteen.

The students looked uncertainly at Harry for a moment before they spoke to Severus.

"Good morning, Professor."

Severus nodded at them. "Good morning. I trust you're all ready for class?"

They assured him they were and one of the boys even smiled at him. "Yes, sir. We have Potions first, right after breakfast."

"I recall that in the past you've had some difficulty distinguishing between chopping and dicing, Mr. Morland. I hope that won't be an issue this year," Severus remarked, but his tone was tolerant and the boy didn't seem very intimidated.

"Yes, sir...I mean, no sir," he actually laughed at his mistake. "I understand it much better ever since you showed me the difference."

"Good." Severus' gaze traveled to Harry and he added. "I believe you all should recognise Mr. Potter."

There was a very awkward silence while Harry and the Slytherins studied one another. Harry thought to himself that it was almost comical how bewildered the younger kids were. Of course, in the past he and the Slytherins had been enemies, or at best rivals, and now their Head of House was escorting him around the dungeons and introducing him. The Slytherin students looked as if they weren't sure whether they were supposed to shake hands or hex him.

Harry decided to make the first move. He gave them a tentative smile. "Hi. It's good to be back at Hogwarts, isn't it?"

Slowly one of the girls nodded and said, "Yeah, it is."

The other three mumbled agreements and glanced at Severus again.

"Mr. Morland, you have expressed an interest in trying out for the Quidditch team, have you not? Perhaps Mr. Potter would be willing to give you a few tips," Severus remarked.

The boy gaped at him. "But, sir...he's a Gryffindor!"

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I am aware of that. He is also a talented Quidditch player."

Harry grinned at the boy. "It's okay. I don't bite."

The young Slytherin stared at him before hesitantly smiling back. "I'm Alec Morland. I really want to be on our team, but I don't think I have much of a chance. I'm only a second-year." He made a face. "And I'm short, even for twelve."

Harry considered him. The boy had brown hair and eyes, and he was short, but he was thin and looked as if he might have a wiry kind of strength.

"Size isn't everything in Quidditch," he answered. "I've always been short too."

"But you play Seeker and it's all right for Seekers to be small," Alec replied. "But Draco Malfoy is our Seeker and he's got two more years. I'd have to try out for Keeper or Chaser."

Severus interrupted. "Draco Malfoy is no longer Slytherin's Seeker. He has been removed from the team, so that position is open if you wish to try out for it, Mr. Morland."

That news surprised them all. Harry turned to Severus in astonishment and started to say something, but then decided to wait until they were alone.

"Malfoy's off the team?" The other Slytherins exclaimed.

Alec looked back at Harry. "Well, do you think...I mean, would you mind...if it wasn't too much trouble..." he trailed off awkwardly.

"You want to meet me down at the Quidditch pitch after class this afternoon? We could fly and maybe I could give you some pointers," Harry offered, smiling at him.

The younger boy managed to look simultaneously thrilled, relieved, and shocked. "Yeah, that would be great, really great. Um, thanks. Thanks a lot."

"You're welcome," Harry told him.

If Alec Morland was happy, the other three Slytherins just seemed bewildered and suspicious, but they didn't say anything in front of Severus and soon they arrived at the Great Hall.

"So this afternoon, about three?" Alec asked.

"Better make it three-thirty. I might have to clean up after Herbology," Harry replied.

"See you then." And the young Slytherins went to join their housemates at the Slytherin table.

Severus pulled Harry off to the side before they entered the Great Hall.

"That was well done, Harry," he said quietly.

Harry smiled at him. "It was your idea, really," he pointed out.

"You did not have to agree, but you did and perhaps have taken a step towards improving relations between Slytherin and Gryffindor," his father responded. "But at the same time, I do want you to be careful. Those four are nice enough children and none of them come from Death Eater families. But I know that some of the older Slytherins have no love for you, and I don't want you to come to any harm. As much as I would like to see Slytherin's reputation improve, I would not risk your well-being for it."

The concern in his voice made Harry feel a little embarrassed, but warm and happy, too. "Thanks," he said softly.

Severus gave him a puzzled look. "You do not have to thank me for caring about your safety and happiness. What kind of father would I be if I didn't?"

Harry shrugged. "Well, yeah, but still...thanks." He remembered something and looked up at Severus. "So Malfoy's off your Quidditch team?"

Severus nodded and glanced around to be sure no one else was within earshot. "Yes. Albus and I agreed that losing his prefect status and Quidditch position would be part of his punishment for harming you. It isn't enough, in my opinion, but we also have a slight problem in that if we make the punishment seem too excessive, then people may begin to wonder about the spell he cast against you. We don't want that."

"No, definitely," Harry agreed. "Guess Malfoy's not too happy, is he?"

"No, he's not very happy at all," Severus said grimly.

There was a sort of smug triumph in his voice and expression that reminded Harry of how Severus used to mistreat him and for a moment he felt an uncomfortable kinship with Malfoy. But then he remembered how terribly Draco Malfoy had harmed him and the sympathy faded.

More students were coming down the stairs on their way to breakfast by then.

Severus rested a hand on Harry's shoulder. "If you're going flying with Alec Morland after class, I suppose I won't see you again until dinner. Have a good day."

"You too," Harry replied.

They entered the Great Hall together and then separated, Severus going to the staff table at the far end of the Hall, snapping at loitering students on his way, while Harry headed for the Gryffindor table. Ron and Hermione hadn't come down yet so Harry sat next to Ginny, Neville, and Dean Thomas.

"Too bad you couldn't stay last night, Harry," Dean remarked. "Seamus slipped some Belching Powder into everyone's butterbeer. You should have seen Lavendar. She was a bit ticked off with him, and we played gobstones and..."

"Harry has to stay with Professor Snape for his health, Dean. It's not very nice to always be reminding him of things he's missing," Ginny said sharply.

"Oh. Sorry." Dean had the grace to look shame-faced. "I didn't think about it like that."

But Harry just shook his head. "It's all right. I like living with Severus."

Ginny and Neville didn't look too surprised, but Dean's mouth fell open.

Before he could do more than sputter, Harry went on, "He's changed a lot and we get along great now. In fact, we're like a family. So yeah, there are times that I miss being in the Tower with all of you guys, but I can visit during the day and I'm okay with that. It's all right."

Dean still seemed speechless, but Harry felt a little proud of himself. The other Gryffindors needed to know right off the bat that he liked living with Severus. What he'd said was true and everyone would just have to accept it.

Before Dean recovered his powers of speech and could possibly argue, Harry turned to Neville and gestured to a platter that was just out of his reach. "Hey, Neville, could you pass those sausages down here?"

Ron and Hermione hurried in just then and took seats beside Harry. Hermione seemed a little flustered while Ron was stifling a yawn.

"Sorry we're late, Harry. Apparently Ron had a hard time waking up this morning," Hermione explained. She scooped some eggs onto her plate. "Oh, this looks good." She frowned over at Ron. "If only we had time to actually enjoy our breakfast instead of having to bolt it down."

Ron didn't seem perturbed in the slightest. He helped himself to eggs and porridge and then took a couple of sausages from the platter Harry held out to him. "Don't have a cow, Hermione. We have plenty of time."

"Yes, if you're used to eating to like a barbarian," Hermione grumbled.

"Well, you don't have to wait for him," Ginny pointed out. "You could come on whenever you're ready."

But Hermione didn't even consider that suggestion. "We always walk down together."

Ron shot Ginny a pleased look as he munched on his sausage.

A short time later they all stood and begin shuffling out of the Hall on their way to the first class of the year.

Harry and his friends had scarcely reached the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom when Bill Weasley opened the door and gestured for the waiting queue of students to enter.

Normally Harry and Ron preferred to find seats either in the middle or the back of a classroom, but this class was different. Defense had always been Harry's greatest strength. Ron was good at it, too, and with Bill being the professor, they were more than willing to join Hermione in the front row. But when they reached the front, they paused.

These desks were arranged in pairs. Always before, when they had to choose, Harry and Ron had sat together and Hermione had joined Neville. It was not something that they had ever discussed. It was just how they had always automatically arranged themselves. But this time Ron glanced uncertainly between Harry and Hermione, with his gaze lingering on Hermione.

Harry noticed and gave him a little push. "Go on, sit with her." He turned towards Neville who was further behind them. "Hey, Neville, come on up here and sit with me."

Ron leaned close and whispered. "You don't mind?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm just across the aisle. I think I can survive being that far from you."

Ron grinned and lightly punched him on the arm before sliding into the seat next to Hermione.

The Gryffindors and Slytherins shared Defense Against the Dark Arts and once he was seated, Harry looked around to see who else was in the class. All of the Gryffindor sixth-years had received the required OWL, but of the Slytherins, only Blaise Zabini, Daphne Greengrass, and Pansy Parkinson were present.

Harry frowned as he noted Draco Malfoy's absence. That didn't make sense. Malfoy was plenty smart enough and Harry couldn't imagine that he hadn't scored well on his OWL exam. Perhaps he was making a point of snubbing the Weasleys by either showing up tardy or dropping the class altogether. But whatever the case, there was no sign of the blond boy.

Well, it certainly didn't matter to Harry. Malfoy's absence would likely make his own life easier. Harry shrugged and took his Defense text, a sheet of parchment, and a quill from his schoolbag.

Bill Weasley closed the classroom door behind the last student and strode to the front of the room. This morning he was wearing dark blue robes and his hair was pulled back into his customary ponytail. He was also wearing his dragon-hide boots and his silver earring shaped like a fang, Harry noticed.

"Welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts," Bill began confidently. He pointed his wand and a piece of chalk rose and scrawled "Professor Weasley" on the chalkboard behind him.

"Many of you already know me, but for those who don't, I'm Bill Weasley. I admit that this is my first year teaching, but I've worked as a curse-breaker for Gringotts for the past ten years so I do have experience fighting the Darks Arts."

"We are all fortunate that Voldemort is dead and a second war has been averted." Bill gave Harry a quick smile. "But it would be a mistake, possibly a tragic one, to assume that all danger has passed and that this class is unimportant. There are still several known Death Eaters on the loose, and the werewolf Fenrir Greyback."

A mutter of voices passed through the class. All of them knew that their former professor Lupin was a werewolf and some of them had heard of Greyback.

Harry had not so he leaned over to Neville and whispered, "Who's this Greyback?"

But before Neville could answer, Bill held up his hand for silence and continued, "For anyone who has not heard of him before, Greyback is a most dangerous character, a foul and perverted monster. He delights in infecting others with lycanthropy and he actively searches for victims during the full moon. He's been known to attack and kill people at other times too."

Bill paused, before adding. "You all know that there is a lot of prejudice against werewolves in our society. I want to emphasise to you that werewolves should be judged on an individual basis, just like everyone else. Many are like Professor Lupin, good and decent people who just happen to have a dangerous affliction, and they take every precaution to protect the innocent. But they're not all like that, and Greyback has proven his inhumanity."

"Now, on to other matters. Most of our class time will be devoted to the practical application of spells. There will be very few essays, but there will be a weekly quiz on Fridays covering the assigned readings. Besides the quizzes, you will also receive a grade each week based on your performance in here. I've already had to deduct points from your grade, Miss Parkinson, as I doubt the contents of that note you just passed to Miss Greengrass have anything to do with Defense. Any further trouble and you'll have detention on Friday evening," Bill finished. His voice was pleasant, but left no doubts that he wasn't going to be a pushover.

Pansy flushed, though no one knew if it was from embarrassment or anger, and Daphne Greengrass quickly slipped the offending note into her desk and sat up straight with her eyes glued to Bill.

"One last thing before we begin." Bill's eyes swept the class. "In all of your classes this year, you will spend time learning to cast spells nonverbally. What is the advantage of a nonverbal spell?"

Hermione's hand shot into the air before anyone else's.

Bill nodded at her. "Miss Granger?"

"Your adversary has no warning about kind of magic you're about to perform, which gives you a split-second advantage," she answered.

"Very good. Five points to Gryffindor. Now, for the remainder of class, I want you to pair up and practice casting and repelling jinxes at one another. The trick is that you have to do it without speaking. Decide which spell you want to use and imagine it happening. It requires great concentration, especially in the beginning, but it does become easier with practice."

Everyone found a partner, though since there was an uneven number of students, the three Slytherins formed their own group. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville alternated switching against one another. All eight Gryffindors had been part of Dumbledore's Army last year and could perform a wide variety of spells, including Shield Charms, but casting nonverbally was more difficult than it seemed.

Many people resorted to whispering under their breath, but after half an hour Hermione was able to send a silent Jelly-Legs Jinx towards Neville. It earned her another ten points for Gryffindor and scowls from the Slytherins. But just at the end of class Pansy Parkinson was able to cast a nonverbal stupefying charm, and Bill praised her and awarded Slytherin ten points as well. Pansy preened, obviously considering her earlier rebuke forgotten, and Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass looked pleased, though startled that Bill Weasley would reward their House.

Bill called to Ron, Hermione, and Harry to stay for a minute after dismissing the others. When they came up to his desk, he asked, "Well, what did you think? Did I do all right?"

"That was a great class!" Hermione said enthusiastically before looking slightly confused. "Sir? Professor?"

"You have to call me ‘sir' or ‘professor' in front of others, but as long as it's just us, you can call me ‘Bill'," he told her. "Thanks, Hermione."

"She's right. It was great. It was fun and we were learning, too," Harry said. "I'm glad you're going to have us doing real work this year."

"Yeah, everything was good," Ron agreed. "You just have to be careful not to award Slytherin too many points."

Bill shook his head. "I have to be fair, Ron, and Pansy Parkinson did do well to cast nonverbally at this stage. I really wasn't expecting any of you to manage it yet." He smiled at Hermione. "I should have known not to underestimate you, though."

He grinned at Harry and Ron. "You two better get busy."

Ron looked at Hermione and said, "We'll never catch up with her. Hermione's one of a kind."

Hermione turned pink, but before she had to think of a way to respond, Bill said, "Well, you better run along. You don't want to be late for Charms and my fourth-years will be showing up any minute now. I just wanted to know what you three thought about my first class."

"See you later, Bill," Ron grinned at him. "But I'm going to write to Mum and Dad if you give Slytherin more points than us."

Bill pretended to be horrified. "And I'll give you detention for the rest of term, too. I mean, how would it look for a professor to get a howler from his mum?"

Charms was fun, too. Tiny professor Flitwick was always kind and cheerful and the Gryffindors shared this class with the Hufflepuffs. They all got along well with one another and the students milled about chatting until Professor Flitwick gave his wand a swish and a tinkling sound like bells ringing filled the air.

When it died away, he smiled but said firmly, "As happy as we all are to see one another again, we do have a lot to accomplish this year so please take your seats and we'll begin."

He showed them how to cast an Aguamenti Charm, which caused a jet of water to shoot from their wands, as well as the complimentary drying spell. Though the students were capable of throwing up Shield Charms, most of them seemed to find it more enjoyable to either dodge out of the way or else to let the water hit them. Most of Charms classes were noisy and this one was no exception. Still, by the end of it, everyone could perform the Aguamenti Charm.

The sixth-years had a free period after Charms and Harry went up to the Tower with the other Gryffindors. Lavendar and Parvati promptly headed for the girls' dormitory. Lavendar had apparently developed a crush on Justin Finch-Fletchley and wanted to re-do her hair before going down to lunch. For some reason that Harry didn't understand, this task also required Parvati's presence.

Dean, Seamus, and Neville decided that they needed a nap after the previous night's revels and they went off to the boys' dorm, leaving Harry, Ron, and Hermione alone in the common room. Ron gazed longingly at the stairs, too, but when Hermione began badgering them about working on the essay Flitwick had assigned, he gave in with fairly good grace.

They sat down together at a side table and spread out their parchment and textbooks, but they actually got very little done because Harry told them about meeting the younger Slytherins and offering to help Alec Morland with flying.

Ron looked shocked. "You're going to help a Slytherin kid make the Quidditch team? Harry, does the term, ‘conflict of interest' mean anything to you?"

Harry raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm just going to fly with him and maybe give him a few pointers. It's not a big deal, Ron."

"You're a Gryffindor. He's a Slytherin. Trust me, Harry, it's a big deal," Ron retorted.

"Well, I don't see why. I mean, why do Gryffindor and Slytherin have to be enemies? We get along fine with the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. Why not with Slytherin?" Harry asked.

"Because they're Slytherin," Ron answered. "You can't trust them, Harry. Turn your back on them and they'll stab you every time." He looked around and lowered his voice to a whisper. "Look at what Draco Malfoy did to you. Isn't that a perfect example?"

Remembering how Malfoy had cast the slavery spell on him was painful, but the implied insult to his father was even more so.

Harry glared and hissed back. "Draco Malfoy doesn't represent all of Slytherin anymore than Peter Pettigrew represents Gryffindor. And Severus is Slytherin. Have you forgotten that, Ron? I can't believe you would say that about my dad!"

Ron actually grew pale. He swallowed and said in a very different tone of voice. "I did forget. I can't believe it, but I did. Harry...I'm sorry. Really I am. I know that Snape...Severus isn't like that. I know he loves you."

Harry sighed. "It's even more than that, though, Ron. Severus is a good person, a trustworthy person. And he's Slytherin. They're not all bad. Can't you see that?"

Ron sighed too and was quiet for a while before saying slowly. "I guess so. But Harry, for whatever reason, Gryffindor and Slytherin have been enemies for a long time, and some of them were on Voldemort's side. Just because he's gone doesn't mean that it's all over. Some of those Slytherins would be really happy to see some really bad things happen to you."

Hermione spoke for the first time. "He's right, Harry, at least about that. You're right too, I think, that probably some of the Slytherins are okay, and it would be nice if we could get along. But considering that some of them had strong ties to Voldemort and that they hate you, I don't think that's going to happen anytime soon. And I don't want you to get hurt because you're trying to be friendly with them."

"Severus warned me about that, too," Harry admitted.

"Well, if even Severus is telling you that some of the Slytherins are bad news, don't you think maybe it's a bad idea trying to play nice with them?" Ron asked.

"Well, I'm not planning to go up to any junior Death Eaters and ask them to be pals," Harry answered. "But I think Alec Morland is all right. Severus said he didn't come from a Death Eater family."

"Maybe he is," Ron said, "But even so, do you really think helping this kid make their Quidditch team is a good idea? Slytherin is our biggest rival, you know."

"I'll do my best for us. You know I will," Harry told him.

"I know it," Ron replied. "I'm just saying that some of the other Gryffs might not like it."

"Well, I don't see why this is such a big deal. I'm just going to give him a few tips. I'd do that for anyone," Harry insisted.

"I'm going with you," Ron told him.

Hermione nodded. "Me, too."

Harry gave them a bemused look. "I don't think he's going to cast any Unforgivables at me. And he's only a second-year."

"A second-year Slytherin who might know more than you think," Ron replied.

Before Harry could argue, Hermione chimed in. "Think about everything we got up to in second-year, Harry. Don't underestimate them."

"And even if this Morland kid is all right, you never know when some older Slytherins might decide to show up," Ron added. "We're going with you, Harry, and that's that."

"We don't want you to get hurt again, Harry," Hermione said softly. "And I just don't think we can trust the Slytherins."

She hesitated before saying slowly, "It's all well and good to want things to be better between our Houses, but it does seem like you've had a big change of heart all of a sudden, Harry. I know you want to please Severus and..."

"Severus didn't put me up to anything," Harry said. "In fact, he's warned me about being careful around the Slytherins, too."

He sighed again. "It's just...I don't know, Severus and I used to misunderstand each other and always think the worst of each other. But once we got past all that we found out that we could get along, and I guess I can't help wondering if it could be like that for all of Gryffindor and Slytherin, too. I mean I know what's like to be misunderstood and to have people hate you when they don't even know you."

Hermione laid her hand on his arm. "You're a good person, Harry. But just remember that while that may be true for some of the Slytherins, they're not all poor misunderstood innocent kids."

Harry grimaced. "Believe me, guys. I do know that."

"I hope so," Ron said soberly. "You've been through enough. We don't want anything else to happen to you."

The three of them looked at one another solemnly. Then Harry gave them a smile. "Thanks. You're really good friends."

That somber discussion had dampened their spirits slightly and they worked on their essays in silence until lunch. But eating sandwiches and stew together in the Great Hall cheered everyone up again. Severus was with the other professors at the staff table. Harry waved to him and his father smiled and nodded back at him.

Ginny was there, too, and Luna came over from the Ravenclaw table to eat with them. They all talked about classes and bemoaned the amount of studying they already had to do. Harry had such a good time that he didn't think twice about the Slytherins and didn't notice that Draco Malfoy wasn't at lunch either.

In Herbology, Professor Sprout had them re-potting Venomous Tentaculas. They were allowed to work in groups and Professor Sprout didn't mind chattering so long as they got their work done, so in spite of the ornery plants, Harry managed to enjoy himself.

After class Harry, Ron, and Hermione left the greenhouse and headed back up to the castle. They parted ways in the Great Hall, promising to meet back in a few minutes. Then Ron and Hermione went up to Gryffindor Tower while Harry found a side chamber with a fireplace connected to Hogwarts internal Floo system.

Severus was in their parlour when Harry tumbled out of the fireplace. He looked grim, but his face relaxed when he saw Harry and he came over to slip an arm around his son's shoulders and hold him close for an instant.

"How was your day?" Severus asked.

Harry beamed. "Brilliant. We had so much fun in Defense and Charms, and Herbology was all right, too."

"I hope you're actually learning something as well," Severus commented dryly.

"Oh, we are," Harry assured him.

"Good," Severus smiled at him. "I look forward to hearing more about it this evening."

"How was your day?" Harry asked, remembering how forbidding Severus had looked just a few moments ago.

"Tolerable, I suppose," Severus replied. "Unfortunately I have an unpleasant Head of House duty to attend to. Mr. Malfoy has decided that he no longer has to attend classes and I must disabuse him of that notion. But I have to locate him first."

"Oh. Well, I haven't seen him today," Harry offered.

"Apparently none of his Housemates have seen him since early morning either," Severus growled. He looked at Harry. "You're going flying with the Morland boy?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir. I just came to drop off my schoolbag and get my Firebolt."

Severus was quiet for a moment before speaking again. "Harry, I am glad that you're making an effort to reach out to the Slytherins, and Alec Morland is a good boy. But I do want you to be careful. Could any of your friends accompany you?"

Harry thought how odd it was for Ron, Hermione, and Severus to all be feeling the same way about the Slytherins.

He nodded. "Ron and Hermione are coming with me."

"Good. Well, have fun flying, but no foolhardy stunts. I will see you at dinner." Severus patted his shoulder.

Harry went to his room, shrugged off his robe and put it away. He laid his bag beside his desk, collected the Firebolt from the corner, and Flooed back up to the Great Hall.

Ron and Hermione were waiting for him and the three of them left the castle and walked down to the Quidditch pitch to meet the Slytherins.

Alec Morland was already waiting on the Quidditch pitch when Harry, Ron, and Hermione arrived. The other three Slytherins that Harry had seen with him that morning were there, too, the four of them standing on the edge of the field near the changing rooms. Gryffindors and Slytherins eyed one another uncertainly for a few seconds before Alec said, sounding rather surprised, "You really came."

"Gryffindors keep their word," Ron answered. His voice sounded a little edgy and the Slytherins glared at him.

Harry put a hand on his arm, but spoke easily to Alec. "Sure I came. I just had to stop by my room for a minute." He gestured towards his friends. "You probably already know them, but these are my friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley."

Alec motioned at his own friends, "This is Emma Davidson, Madalyn Grey, and Zach Phillips."

The Davidson girl was small with dark brown, almost black, hair and bright blue eyes. Madalyn Grey was an elegant blonde, while Zach Phillips was tall and dark-skinned with close-cropped hair.

The two groups continued to regard each other suspiciously until Harry said dryly, "Well, good. Now we can all be best mates."

Ron snorted. The Slytherins looked at Harry, startled, but then Emma Davidson gave a small, reluctant laugh and they all seemed to relax a tiny bit.

Alec was clutching a broomstick in his right hand and Harry nodded at it. "Cool broom."

The younger boy beamed. "Thanks. It's a Nimbus 4000. I got it for Christmas. My dad used to play for Ravenclaw and he's really hoping I'll make my House team, too."

"Well, you ready to get started then?" Harry asked.

Alec nodded eagerly and they took off. Harry led the way through some aerial manoeuvres, keeping an eye on the younger boy to judge his skills. Alec had some natural talent...he had an excellent sense of balance and timing, but he seemed inexperienced and unpolished. Harry tried to offer some helpful tips, as well as encouragement, and he was pleased to see that the young Slytherin listened intently and was a quick learner.

"Just be careful on your turns. You don't need to use as much force to change direction when you're traveling at high speed. Just a slight lean and the broom should respond. If you lean too much when you're going fast, the broom could spin out of control. At best you'll throw the broom off its track and lose time while you get back on path," Harry advised him.

Alec nodded. "Can we practice that again?"

Harry nodded. "Okay, take off and at the halfway mark, bank to the right."

Alec did much better that time, remembering to shift weight subtly in the direction he wished to go, and Harry called after him, "That was great, much better than before."

When Alec glided back to him, Harry asked. "So do you think you'll try out for Seeker?"

"Seeker or Chaser, probably. I'm not sure which yet." The other boy replied.

Harry glanced down to the stands, where Ron, Hermione, and the Slytherins were seated a short distance apart from one another. "Come on, let's see if we can talk them into playing a scrimmage game."

Hermione and Madalyn Grey were initially reluctant, but the others managed to convince them. Ron and Harry went into the Gryffindor changing room and found the set of practice equipment and some school brooms. A few minutes later they were all in the air, hovering on broomsticks and assigning positions.

They played for over an hour, with everyone taking turns at the different spots, and by the time they decided to quit, they were all laughing and much more at ease.

They landed and Harry and Ron put all the balls back into the wooden practice box while Hermione collected the school brooms.

"Well, thanks a lot for helping me. I really appreciate it," Alec said to Harry when they were ready to leave.

Harry nodded. "You're welcome. Good luck with tryouts."

The younger Slytherins said good-bye and started off towards the castle. Harry and his friends went to return the brooms and Quidditch equipment to the Gryffindor changing room. Ron and Hermione were a few steps ahead of Harry when he heard a hissed incantation and a second later he tripped and fell sprawling to the ground.

He swore under his breath, even as he reacted instantly, rolling to the side to avoid any further spells, snatching his wand and pointing in the direction he thought the jinx had come from. "Stupify!"

At the same moment Ron and Hermione realized that something was wrong. They dropped the broom and box and spun around with their own wands drawn.

There was a heavy thump as Harry's stunning spell hit its target, but there was obviously more than one attacker, as a muttered voice and a flash of light from another spell came from around the corner of the building.

Harry scrambled back to his feet as Ron dodged the light and the three of them threw up shield charms and ran to face their opponents.

Gregory Goyle lay unconscious on the ground, but Draco Malfoy and Vincent Crabbe were standing with their wands aimed at the trio.

Harry shouted "Expelliarmus!" at the same time that Hermione called "Incarcerous!" A jet of red light and thick ropes shot from their wands, but Malfoy was able to cast his own shield charm in time.

Ron aimed another disarming spell at Crabbe, but somehow, as large as he was, the other boy managed to twist out of the way.

Unfortunately for him, he twisted directly into the path of the stupefying spell that Alec Morland cast and slumped to the ground. The four younger Slytherins had heard the commotion and had come running back to see what was going on. The other three hesitated for a moment when they saw their older Housemates but Alec had his wand out in a flash and amazingly, was supporting the Gryffindors. His three companions looked back and forth between Draco Malfoy and Alec, and then aimed their wands at Malfoy as well.

Whatever else he was, Draco Malfoy was not stupid. Outnumbered seven to one, he stopped the fight and glared at the younger students.

"What's wrong with you?" He hissed, his face contorted with rage. "You're Slytherin! How could you..."

"How could you ambush somebody from behind like that?" Alec retorted. "That's cowardly and low and..."

"How did you ever make it into Slytherin?" Malfoy demanded, a look of disgust vying with his fury. "Ambushing an enemy is a strategic move. In a war, you take every advantage you can get."

Alec shook his head. "But this isn't a war and they're not our enemies."

"Like hell!" Malfoy responded, but he was drowned out by a new voice.

"Well said, Mr. Morland."

They all turned to see Severus striding towards them. His black eyes swept over the group, lingering on his son. Harry read the question in his father's gaze and he nodded that he was all right. Severus' stern expression seemed to lighten almost imperceptibly, just for an instant. He turned his attention back to the other students.

"Ten points apiece for Mr. Morland and his friends for their honourable conduct. You may return to the castle now." Severus waited until the four younger Slytherins had rather reluctantly left. Then he turned to Malfoy. "It will help to offset the fifty points I'm deducting for your behavior today, Mr. Malfoy."

"Fifty!" Malfoy began.

"You did not attend any of your classes today though you were obviously well enough to do so, and you were caught fighting with other students. In addition to the loss of points, you will serve detention with me this Saturday instead of going into Hogsmeade," Severus said coolly.

Malfoy stared at him in silence. Harry could see outraged disbelief on his face, but there seemed to be a hint of something else, something more vulnerable, in the boy's grey eyes. But then Malfoy looked over at him, his eyes filled only with hatred, and Harry thought he must have only imagined the other.

"What about them?" Malfoy demanded, gesturing at Harry, Ron, and Hemione. "They were fighting, too."

Severus considered. "So they were." His eyes flickered over the Gryffidors. "You three report to my quarters directly after dinner."

"But, sir," They all began at once but Severus cut them off.

"That's enough."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione gaped at him indignantly while Severus waved his wand over Crabbe and Goyle to bring them back to consciousness and assigned them detention with Filch. Then he ordered the three Slytherins away as well.

"But Severus, they..." Harry tried again.

His father frowned slightly. "I am aware of what happened, Harry. And I am aware that I warned you all about fighting in front of a professor. I am also aware that it is now dinnertime. I suggest we head up to the school."

He motioned to them and Harry, Ron, and Hermione led the way back up to the castle. At dinner time, they told their friends about the afternoon events. Ginny and Neville commiserated with them, but Dean and Seamus both frowned.

"Why were you helping that Slytherin kid, Harry?" Dean asked.

"You're supposed to be our Seeker," Seamus said at the same time.

"I am Gryffindor's Seeker," Harry retorted. "I just gave him a few pointers, that's all. And he's not a bad kid. He helped us against Malfoy."

"Yeah, but what if he makes the Slytherin team and then they beat us because of something you taught him?" Seamus demanded.

Ron spoke up. "Nah, that's not gonna happen. Professor Snape bought Harry this great book, by Wronski, all about Seeking and different tricks and techniques. We've been practicing and Harry's better than ever. No way we're going to lose to anyone this year."

Dean and Seamus still didn't look happy, but they were interested in hearing more about the Seeking book and the new skills that Harry had learned. The boys talked about Quidditch for the rest of dinner.

As they were finishing dessert...a very tasty selection of cakes and pastries...Severus stood at the staff table and motioned for them to join him.

"I can't believe he gave us detention," Ron grumbled.

Hermione just shrugged. "Well, we were fighting."

"What choice did we have?" Ron demanded. "That slimy little git of a snake attacked Harry. Again. Of course we had to fight."

Harry just sighed. He couldn't help feeling disappointed and a bit angry that his father had punished him and his friends as well as Malfoy and his goons, and he planned to argue the matter once they were alone in their rooms. But as it turned out, it wasn't necessary.

They walked down through the dungeons in silence, but when they entered Severus' and Harry's rooms and the professor closed the door behind them, he turned to regard the three teenagers.

"As deplorable as Mr. Malfoy's conduct was today, he does have a point that in a true battle, you should use every advantage you might have. I have always found that a good chess match improves my strategic thinking."

He nodded towards the chess board set up on a corner table. "Harry, why don't you and Mr. Weasley study tactical ploys and manoevres?"

Harry stared at him blankly. "You want us to play chess?"

"I think my wording sounded more professional, but yes, I want you to play chess." Severus turned to Hermione. "Miss Granger, I would suggest that you study, but I'm quite sure you're already ahead in all your subjects. But you might find a book that holds your interest over there." He indicated the bookshelves.

"I can pick out something to read?" Hermione asked uncertainly.

Severus rolled his eyes. "Have you all been confounded or am I not speaking English tonight? Yes, you may choose a book to read."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at each other and then back at Severus.

"Are we being punished?" Harry asked him.

"Do you think you're being punished?" Severus raised an eyebrow and swept away, calling over his shoulder, "I will be in my office if you should need me for anything."

They stared after him. When the office door had closed, Ron slowly grinned and then grabbed Harry's arm. "Well, you heard the man. We've got studying to do."

The next hour passed peacefully. Hermione found a book and curled up on the sofa to read while Harry and Ron hunched low over the chess board, muttering directions to the pieces. They were all surprised when Severus came back into the parlour bearing a tray with cups of cocoa and a platter of biscuits.

"I'm not sure why I bothered when you all had an indecent number of cakes at dinner," the professor grumbled.

Ron eagerly helped himself to several biscuits. "We'll have to have detention with you more often, sir."

"I would suggest that you not take advantage, Mr. Weasley," Severus returned sharply.

Harry grinned at him. "Sit down with us, Severus."

Severus rolled his eyes again, but he did take a cup of cocoa and sit beside Harry on the sofa. Hermione was on Harry's other side and Ron perched on a nearby armchair. Harry leaned against his father and began telling him about the day, with Ron and Hermione chiming in now and again.

"I'm pleased that your first day back was enjoyable," Severus commented when they had finished.

"Tell us about your day," Harry requested.

Severus seemed startled. "There isn't very much to tell. I taught first through fourth years today. You should all be familiar with the lectures and potions."

"What will we be doing tomorrow, sir?" Hermione leaned forward to peer around Harry.

"We will be studying Golpalott's Laws this term, how to diagnose and treat various poisons," Severus replied.

Hermione's eyes lit up. "Oh, this summer I was reading about that outbreak of moonseed poisoning in Indonesia and how researchers there were using Golpalott's Fourth Law to include the moonseed as an ingredient in the anti-dote."

"They would have gotten better results if they had used salamander blood," Severus answered. "Salamanders eat moonseeds and with the moonseed in the bloodstream plus the high acidic quality of the salamander platelets, the antidote could have been greatly strengthened..."

Harry and Ron looked at one another, shook their heads in bemusement, and sipped their cocoa.

After his friends had Flooed back up to Gryffindor Tower, Harry went to his father and hugged him. "Thank you."

Severus hugged him back. "You're welcome. Hogwarts' rules do say that any student caught fighting should be punished, but considering the circumstances and all the unfair detentions I have given you in the past, I could not bring myself to be harsh."

They were quiet, then Severus lightly stroked through his son's hair and said, "Thank you, Harry."

Harry looked at him in confusion. "For what?"

"For giving me another chance," Severus said. "I did not deserve it. I do not deserve you."

But Harry shook his head. "That isn't true, Severus. I mean, yeah, things used to be bad between us, but you've helped me so much. You know how depressed I was this summer. It's only because of you that I'm all right now."

"And are you all right? Truly?" Severus asked quietly. He studied Harry with a solemn, intense gaze.

Harry started to nod; then he shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so. I wish I were free, but I'm trying not to dwell on it. I'm trying to think about all the good things I have and just get on with stuff."

Severus nodded. "That sounds like a very mature way to handle things. But Harry, anytime you do feel upset or sad, I want you to come to me."

"All right," Harry agreed in a subdued tone.

Severus squeezed his shoulder. "Albus should receive some of those documents I told you about within the week, and then he and I will begin studying them in the evenings. We may yet discover a way to free you so don't give up hope."

"I won't," Harry promised softly.

Severus dropped a kiss on the top of his head. "Well, I think I'm going to read through my new potions journal before bed. Do you have any homework?"

Harry shook his head. "Nothing that's due right away, and we worked on some of it today during our free period."

Speaking of the free period reminded him of the independent study course he was supposed to do with his father and Dumbledore. "Severus, you know I have Transfiguration and Potions tomorrow, but what about my independent study class? What should I do for it?"

Severus considered. "After potions tomorrow, I want you to spend an hour or two practicing nonverbal magic. Try spells you already know, but work on casting in silence. I know you're already doing that in Defense, and you will be in other classes as well, but it is a very valuable skill, especially when confronting an enemy. I want you to become proficient at it as quickly as you can."

Harry nodded.

"It can be exhausting though, when you're first learning, so take a rest when you grow tired," Severus continued. "Do the same on Thursday. I believe you and I both have a free period scheduled immediately after lunch on Friday so I'll work with you then and see how you're progressing. All right?"

"Sounds good," Harry smiled at him.

They returned to the sofa, sitting side by side. While Severus flipped through his latest potions journal, Harry wrote a letter to Norie and Zan. He felt a little guilty...he'd scarcely thought about the house elves since leaving Prince Hall. He hadn't meant to neglect them, but he'd just been busy getting settled back at Hogwarts and starting the new school year. He tried to make up for it with a nice long letter, telling them everything he'd been doing the past few days and all about his classes and friends.

As he wrote, Harry could almost see them, and Prince Hall, too. He felt such a sudden sharp longing to be at home that it surprised him. He'd never been homesick while he was at school before. Of course the house at Privet Drive had never been a home to him though, and he'd always been glad to escape the Dursleys.

"Severus?" He asked, looking up from the parchment.

"Hmm?"

"Well, I know we couldn't when there are things going on here, but do you think maybe some weekend we could go back to Prince Hall and visit Norie and Zan?"

Severus frowned. "I don't think so, Harry. Albus doesn't really like for the students or staff to leave the school during term time, and besides that, it would be difficult for me to leave for an entire weekend. I am the Head of Slytherin."

"Oh, okay." Harry turned back to his letter.

Severus turned to study him for a minute. Then he said softly, "But perhaps we could work something out. Albus does tend to bend the rules for you, and it's time he did something to make up a little for the debt he owes you."

Harry shook his head. "He doesn't owe me anything."

"I disagree," Severus remarked dryly. "But we couldn't go for a few weeks anyhow. This Saturday is the first Hogsmeade weekend. The following weekend is Quidditch tryouts and then the practices and matches begin."

"Yeah, I guess we will be pretty busy," Harry agreed.

"Oh, indeed," Severus said in a weary tone.

Harry grinned and turned back to his letter.

"Harry, look at this."

They were at breakfast in the Great Hall on the second morning of classes. Harry was helping himself to the pancakes piled high on a silver platter when Hermione interrupted, leaning across Ron with her eyes sparkling and holding out a copy of the Daily Prophet.

He set down his plate and reached for the newspaper, holding it where Ron, in the middle, could see too. The top headline warned people of the approaching full moon and described safety precautions they could take to protect themselves against werewolves, Fenrir Greyback and his followers in particular. Apparently Greyback had kidnapped several children in the weeks prior to the full moon and fear of werewolves was running high.

Harry felt a sharp pang for Remus' sake, but then his eye caught another headline, smaller and tucked away in the right corner, and he knew that that was the one Hermione wanted him to notice and why she looked so happy.

Umbridge found guilty on abuse charges! Sentenced to 5 years in Azkaban!

"All right!" Ron exclaimed and he and Hermione slapped each other's palms in celebration.

Harry had to grin, too. "Well, she sure deserves it. And more."

"She would have gotten more if they'd known she hurt you too," Hermione pointed out in a low voice. Harry knew that though she understood and abided by his reasons for not wanting to be involved in the trial, she still felt angry for his sake that Umbridge wouldn't be officially punished for harming him.

Ron nodded in agreement. ‘Hey, the way everyone loves you now, Harry, she'd have gotten a life sentence for hurting you," he said in a low voice.

Harry shrugged. "Maybe, but it's all right. I didn't want to get involved and go to court. I might have had to take some binding vow or something, and who knows what it would lead to?"

Ron and Hermione knew he was referring to the discovery of the slavery spell and they just nodded silently. But then Ginny leaned over from across the table and wanted to know what they were looking at and while Ron was showing her the headline about Umbridge, some of the other Gryffindors called congratulations from down the table.

Students at the other House tables read their own copies of the Prophet and soon everyone knew the news of Umbridge's imprisonment. Umbridge had been almost universally despised in her brief reign at Hogwarts and students and staff alike were in high spirits as they filed out of the Hall a short time later.

Harry motioned to his friends to wait for him and he darted up to the staff table to catch Severus.

"Did you see the bit about Umbridge?" He asked his father.

Severus' eyes were bright and he looked pleased. "I did indeed. I only wish we could have punished her for harming you as well. Five years is not long enough, by far, in my opinion."

"Hermione said that too," Harry told him, feeling warm and happy at his father's protectiveness.

"Well, Miss Granger is clever. No one can deny that," Severus responded. He patted Harry's shoulder. "I will see you later this morning."

Harry nodded. "All right."

"Harry? You do feel well?" Severus questioned, his voice suddenly going soft and gentle. "There is no reason to worry over Potions now, you know."

If possible, the warm happy feeling inside him seemed to grow even more intense. Harry smiled at his father. "I know. I feel fine."

"Good." Severus patted his shoulder again and they parted, Severus returning to the dungeons to his classroom while Harry re-joined his friends and headed for Transfiguration.

Professor McGonagall welcomed them back with a lecture on the difficulties of sixth-year Transfiguration and the importance of working hard to pass their NEWTS.

"Right back to the grindstone, hmm?" Ron muttered to Harry.

Neville was not taking Transfiguration this year and as Dean and Seamus, Lavendar and Parvati had all paired up together, Harry had a desk to himself. But he was right across the aisle from Ron and Hermione and it was a simple matter to whisper and pass notes...to Ron, anyway, as Hermione usually paid strict attention in class.

"All the better to copy her notes," as Ron always said with a shrug.

But there was little chance to play around in Transfiguration. McGonagall was a strict taskmaster and promptly set them to work. The first half of class was spent reviewing spells from last year, but the students had to attempt the work with nonverbal magic first. It was a struggle, but after fifteen minutes, Hermione managed to perform a perfect vanishing spell on her turtle. After half an hour Harry had vanished one of his creature's legs while Ron thought his turtle's shell was becoming transparent.

"This was a lot easier when we could talk," he whispered to Harry.

Harry nodded. Around him he could hear some of the students murmuring "Evanesco" under their breath as they struggled with the spell. But he himself continued to work diligently in silence. Whispering the incantation would be quicker and easier for sure, but it wouldn't help him master nonverbal magic. And even though Voldemort was gone and Harry shouldn't be in danger as he had been in the past, he thought it would still be wise to become as strong and as skilled as possible.

After all, you never knew what might happen.

If he had been more advanced and experienced maybe he could have sensed Malfoy shooting that slavery curse at him. Maybe he could have protected himself from it. But then, as always, he had to remember that if not for the spell, he wouldn't have Severus. He would have never gone to Prince Hall or met Norie and Zan.

Harry closed his eyes for a second, feeling torn by conflicting emotions. He hated knowing that he was a slave. But he loved having a father and a real home for the first time since he had been a baby. In some ways, when he didn't think about being a slave, he was happier than he'd ever been before. He'd always dreamed of having his own family and now finally his dream had come true.

But then he would remember that he was a slave and unless Dumbledore and Severus found a way to free him, he would be for the rest of his life, or for the rest of Severus' life at least. And Harry couldn't bear to think of Severus dying. Losing his father would kill him too. As much as he wanted his freedom, he didn't want it at the cost of his father's life. He couldn't go on without Severus now.

Harry sighed. It was no wonder, he thought, that he tried not to think about his situation and kept it all pushed safely away in the back of his mind. If he let himself dwell on it he could go crazy.

"Harry? You all right?' Ron poked him in the arm.

Harry opened his eyes, realised that McGonagall was speaking and nodded to Ron.

McGonagall praised the students who had made some progress with nonverbal magic and encouraged the others, telling them not to lose heart but to keep working, that casting silently was a difficult skill that required mental discipline and effort, but that she was sure they could master it in time.

For the last half hour she had them begin to work on human transfiguration and they spent the rest of class attempting to change their eyebrows into different colours.

When Transfiguration was over and McGonagall had dismissed them, Harry, Ron, and Hermione trooped down to the dungeons, winding their way through the crowded , waving to familiar faces, and complaining good-naturedly about the essay McGonagall had assigned as homework.

"Well, at least Potions should be better now," Hermione remarked. She smiled at Harry. "I'm glad you don't have to be ill this year."

"Me, too," Harry agreed fervently.

Outside the Potions classroom, they joined the other Gryffindors and the Slytherins. Malfoy was at the front of the line, Harry noticed, and the blond boy scowled when he saw Harry, but before he could do anything more, Severus opened the door. Malfoy immediately seemed to forget about Harry and tried to say something to Severus...Harry couldn't hear exactly what...but Severus just gave him a fierce glare and motioned him inside without a word.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione settled themselves at a table with Neville, who needed Potions for his Herbology degree, and set out their cauldrons and Potions kits. Some of the first magic that students learned upon entering Hogwarts was a shrinking spell so that they could comfortably carry their cauldrons in their school bags. Now everyone enlarged the pots to normal size and then quickly put away their wands. Severus had always made it clear that he generally disliked anyone having a wand out during his class.

The Potions professor stalked up to the front of the room and surveyed the students with sharp eyes. His gaze slid over Harry, Ron, and Hermione, but he glowered at Neville and the other Gryffindors.

"I am quite surprised to find that some of you qualified for this class," Severus began coolly, staring directly at Neville who turned red under the scrutiny. "NEWT level Potions is a difficult and potentially dangerous course. I will not tolerate incompetence or carelessness. Be warned."

He was silent for a long uneasy moment before continuing. "We will begin the term by learning Golpalott's Laws on the diagnosis of poisons and the study of anti-dotes. Today you will brew a blend of aconite, dragon's bile, and fluxweed. On Thursday you will attempt to create the anti-dote for it. This poison stings if it comes into contact with skin. If it is inhaled or ingested, it can be fatal unless the proper anti-dote is administered within a few hours. It caused severe bleeding and abdominal cramps."

Severus paused, as if making sure they all understood what a thoroughly nasty potion they would be dealing with. "As a safety precaution you will take out your wands and cast a Bubble-Head charm on yourselves." He looked over at Neville. "And on anyone else who might be incapable of performing this simple spell for himself."

When everyone was safely ensconced inside inside the fishbowl-like Bubble-Head, Severus pointed his wand at the chalkboard and lines of directions appeared. "Begin."

As the students worked, he swept around the classroom, observing and commenting on their progress. To the absolute shock of everyone else in the room, Severus praised Harry, Ron, and Hermione on their work and even awarded them ten points.

But he was more harsh than ever with the other Gryffindors, especially poor Neville who was so intimidated that his potion turned out as black sludge rather than the thin pale blue liquid that everyone else managed. Neville was visibly upset and red as a beet by the time Severus had finished disparaging him over it.

But Neville wasn't the sole recipient of Severus' ire. The Potions professor also jeered at Draco Malfoy several times. Malfoy simply kept working on his brew, his face impassive, but Harry thought he saw anger or some emotion flicker in the other boy's grey eyes.

Severus was also snide to the rest of the Gryffindors too, as if he felt he had to make up for being nice to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. The ten points he had awarded them were completely cancelled out by the points he docked from the others, and Dean, Seamus, Lavendar, and Parvati were glaring at both Severus and at Harry by the time class was over.

"Gee, Harry, I thought you and Snape were so close now. Can't you get him to ease up on the rest of us?" Dean demanded as they headed upstairs to the Great Hall for lunch.

"I don't know. I'll try," Harry answered in a low voice. He turned to Neville who was walking beside him. "I'm sorry, Neville."

But Neville looked surprised. "For what? It's not your fault, Harry. You didn't do anything. Snape just hates me. He always has. I don't expect anything different from him."

But Harry did. Of course he knew, better than anyone, how disagreeable Severus could be. But over the past couple of months, he had come to see such a different side of his father that he was finding it hard to reconcile the two. And he couldn't help feeling a guilty shamed sorrow that his father had treated his Housemates so badly, especially Neville who had always been a good and loyal friend.

As he sat down at the table with his friends and plates of sandwiches and bowls of soup rose before them, Harry came to a decision. He would have to talk with Severus about the way he treated Gryffindor students. It wouldn't be easy or pleasant, but Harry felt that he had to do it.

In any case, he had to try.

After lunch Harry, Ron, and Hermione parted ways. Hermione had an Arithmancy class, and Ron and Neville both had a free period and decided to head back up to the Gryffindor common room. They invited Harry to go with them, but though it was tempting, he knew that he needed to work on his independent study assignment instead.

So while his friends went off in different directions, Harry found the little side chamber with a fireplace and Flooed back down to his home with Severus. His father wasn't there; he still had another class to teach that afternoon, which was fine with Harry. He was feeling upset with Severus for being so harsh with Neville and the other Gryffindors, and it was a little unsettling. Harry realized that he had grown so accustomed to getting along with Severus and with everything being good between them that it was disconcerting to be upset with him again.

But there was nothing he could do about that at the moment so Harry just went to put his school bag away in his room and then came back out to the parlour to practise nonverbal magic again. To tell the truth, he was already heartily tired of nonverbal magic by now. It seemed that that was all he and his classmates had been practising for the past two days. It was so difficult and he'd made so little progress.

Still, the only way to get better at it was to practise and besides, Harry reminded himself, his independent study work was a real course, just as much as Potions, Transfiguration, and all the other subjects were. Severus and Dumbledore were his instructors and he needed to do his best on the tasks they assigned.

So what had Severus said to do? Practise spells he already knew, but try to cast silently. Harry had made a little progress with the Vanishing spell in Transfiguration earlier so he decided to keep working on that one. He set a quill on a small side table beside the sofa and pointed his wand at it, thinking Evanesco in his mind and trying to concentrate on making the quill disappear.

An hour later the quill still lay there and the only thing Harry had accomplished was to give himself a splitting headache. When Severus came in from the outside door, saw him, and asked, "Harry? Any progress yet?", he glared at the uncooperative quill and answered shortly, "No."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Well, it does take time and practise."

"Yeah, I know." If only the throbbing in his head would subside. Harry sank down onto the sofa and closed his eyes. He could hear his father moving about in their rooms and a few minutes later Severus sat down on the sofa next to him and pressed a mug into his hand.

"Have some tea."

For some reason his father's concern only made Harry angrier. How could Severus have two such completely different sides? How could he admit that he had been wrong to have maligned Harry for so many years and always be so kind and gentle to him now, and yet still treat other kids so callously?

He pushed the mug away and turned to Severus. "Why were you so mean in class today?"

Severus looked shocked. "What are you talking about? I didn't mistreat you or your friends. I even praised your work and gave you points."

"Neville's my friend, too, and the other Gryffindors, and you were plenty mean to them." Harry retorted. He knew his voice bordered on being rude and this really wasn't the way he'd planned to go about discussing the topic with Severus, but right now he was just too upset to care. And his head was about to split open, it hurt so badly.

Severus stiffened and his voice was noticeably cooler when he spoke. "I don't think the way I discipline your classmates is any of your concern, Harry."

"But it is," Harry argued. "There's no reason for you to pick on Neville and the others like that."

"Mr. Longbottom's work was atrocious, as always, and as I said in class we're brewing some dangerous potions this year. NEWT level work requires talent and concentration. As I also said before, I will not tolerate incompetence, particularly when it could lead to serious injuries. If Mr. Longbottom can't handle the pressure then he needs to withdraw from the course," Severus said in a voice as hard as flint.

Harry frowned at him. "But Neville needs Potions for his Herbology degree and he does all right in his other courses."

This was not strictly true, Harry knew. Neville had always struggled with Transfiguration and he had made blunders in most of his other courses as well. Herbology was the only subject where he seemed to be truly gifted. But he had made incredible progress in Defense last year, once he had a sympathetic instructor in Harry and real motivation to learn. He'd done well in Defense back in third-year when Remus had been teaching too, and he did acceptable work in Charms. Potions was the only course where Neville consistently and utterly failed, and Harry had to believe that a lot of that had to do with Severus' teaching style.

"Besides, you've always been awful to Neville," Harry hurried on full force before his father could reply. "Even when other people's potions were bad, too, you didn't stay on them like you do with Neville. And the other Gryffindors' potions were fine, so why were you so mean to them? And why did you take all those points?"

"I'm about to take more," Severus said darkly. "But for your information, Mr. Thomas and Mr. Finnegan lost points because they talked about Quidditch the entire time. I should have assigned them detention as well. If I hadn't already tied myself up with Draco Malfoy, I would have."

Harry wasn't satisfied with that answer. "But Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass whispered all through class too. You didn't take points from them."

"Enough!" Severus snapped, sounding angrier than Harry had heard him sound in quite some time. "Do not forget, Harry, that you are still my student as well as my son."

"And your slave," Harry said, his own tone laden with anger and bitterness.

Severus grew very still. "I did not say that," he said quietly.

"But you thought it." Harry didn't know why he had brought up the slavery spell. It had nothing to do with Potions class or Gryffindors or anything that they'd been discussing, but it seemed that words just kept pouring out of his mouth whether he meant for them to or not.

Severus gave him a long steady look. "I did not. You are the one who cannot stop thinking about it, not me."

"Well, of course I think about it! I'm the one who's a slave! How would you feel if it were you?" Harry shouted, then winced as the sharp pains in his head protested.

"I would be most upset," Severus admitted. He leaned forward, his dark eyes studying Harry's face intently. "Harry, I do understand how you feel about that. In truth, I was a slave to Voldemort for years."

"But you're free of him now! I'll never be free! Never!" And suddenly desperate to get away, Harry leaped to his feet and ran to his bedroom. Without thinking, he slammed the door behind him, and then grabbed his head with both hands, doubling over in pain as his head exploded in bursts of agony.

"Harry!" Severus opened the door, took a step in, and then paused when he saw his son.

"Harry, what is it?" He asked in a very different tone of voice.

"My head," Harry whispered shakily, suddenly feeling near tears. "It hurts so bad."

Severus promptly summoned a vial of potion and moved to Harry's side, crouching to hold the little bottle to his lips. "Drink this. It will help."

Harry downed its contents. Almost at once the sharp throbbing in his head dulled to a barely noticeable ache. He sighed in relief and gave his father a wry glance. "Thanks. That's a lot better."

"Foolish child. Why didn't you say you were in pain?" Severus guided him to the bed. Harry lay down while Severus fetched a blanket from the wardrobe, shook it out and tucked it about him. Then his father closed the golden drapes around the enchanted window and cast some spell that dimmed the light in the room almost as dark as night.

Then Severus came and sat on the edge of the bed. He sighed. "How did we go from talking about Potions class to the slavery spell?"

"I don't know," Harry answered. "I don't know why I said that. I wasn't thinking about it, not really. I was upset and it just came out."

"You know we're doing all we can, don't you?" Severus asked heavily.

"Yeah," Harry whispered.

"Harry, every day I hope that we can find a way to free you, and I hope even more that whatever happens you will heal fully and completely and not hurt anymore." Severus lightly ran his fingers through Harry's hair, gently eased his glasses off, and set them on the side table. "Is there anything else I can do? Anything I haven't thought of that would help you deal with the spell?"

There was shared pain in his voice and it made Harry feel even worse about bringing the slavery spell into their argument. It wasn't Severus' fault, after all, and his father was doing everything he could to help Harry. No one could have done more or been any better to him.

"No," he whispered roughly. "You're great about all that, Severus. You really are. No one could do more. I'm sorry I said that."

Severus reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. They were quiet for a moment before the professor spoke again more briskly, "Now, how long has your head been aching? Was it caused by practising silent magic?"

"Yes, I think so," Harry mumbled. "I'd been trying to vanish my quill for about an hour. My head started aching while I was practising." He squinted up at his father. "I thought I'd keep trying that one instead of any defense spells because we were working on vanishing turtles in Transfiguration and I did make a little progress then."

"Oh? Tell me," Severus sounded interested.

"Well, I just made one of my turtle's legs disappear, but I thought I might have better luck if I kept working on the Vanishing spell now too," Harry told him.

Through the darkness he could see his father nod. "That's fine. Defense spells can be difficult to work on by oneself, too. You really need an opponent or an object to practise on, even if it's a dummy like ‘Toby'. In any case, when you are dueling or encountering an enemy, sometimes spells from Transfiguration or Charms can be very useful. Here at school, you study the subjects separately, but in life you draw on anything that is useful and helpful."

Harry suddenly remembered when Dumbledore had faced Voldemort in the Department of Mysteries last spring. Voldemort had sent a wall of glass shards flying towards them, but Dumbledore had quickly transfigured the glass into harmless sand. He had also cast some sort of charm on the statues in the Atrium to animate them and have them protect Harry.

He nodded. "Yeah."

"Why don't you rest for a while before dinner?" Severus suggested, starting to get up from the bed.

Harry put out a hand to stop him. He realised that his father seemed to think their argument earlier had stemmed from Harry's headache and he seemed to have dismissed the matter from his mind. But that wasn't true. Harry had to admit that he had handled the situation badly. Now that his head wasn't pounding, he could see that he had gone about it all wrong. But he did think that Severus was wrong, too, that his father did mistreat Neville and the others for no good reason, and he wanted to talk with him about it.

But maybe he'd take a different approach this time.

"Severus? I did mean to thank you for being so different with me and Ron and Hermione today. It was really nice not to have to feel sick before Potions."

Severus eyed him. "You're welcome. I am sorry for the way I used to treat you and I am glad that you feel more relaxed about Potions now. But that does not mean you are free to criticise my teaching style."

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir. I'm sorry I was rude earlier. I shouldn't have been. But it's just...well, you know all those years you thought that I was spoiled and arrogant and you hated me?"

Severus was very still; then he closed his eyes and nodded silently.

"Well, you admit that you were wrong about me, don't you? You changed your mind once we got to know each other, right?"

"Of course. You know that," Severus responded.

"And you don't hate Ron and Hermione or the other Weasleys any more either, do you?" Harry continued.

"I never hated your friends or the Weasleys," Severus said. "I merely disliked them."

"Do you still dislike them?" Harry asked.

Severus sighed. "No. I admit that they are rather tolerable."

"Well, don't you think that maybe if you gave the other Gryffindors a chance, you might find out that they're good people too?" Harry asked softly.

"Harry..." His father began.

"Please, Severus? I'm not asking you to like them or to be kind or anything. Just...couldn't you try to be a little more fair? The kids in Gryffindor now have never done anything, and you can't say that you just hate all Gryffindors, not anymore. I'm one, and my friends and Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall. You like all of us, right?"

"No, I do not like all of you," Severus retorted. As Harry stared at him in hurt surprise, he relented and smiled a little. "I love you. I like the others...at times, perhaps."

He leaned over to brush his lips against Harry's forehead. "I will consider what you've said. That is all I can promise for the moment. Rest now."

He swept out of the room. Feeling relieved and weary, Harry decided that he would try to take a nap before dinner. He closed his eyes and let himself drift off.

***

The rest of the week flew by.

Severus did not act vastly different in Thursday's class, but Harry noticed a few improvements. At least his father did not openly ridicule Neville or the other Gryffindors. Instead he put the students in pairs and assigned Hermione to be Neville's partner, leaving Ron to work with Harry. He also had Dean Thomas and Pansy Parkinson, Seamus Finnegan and Daphne Greengrass work together.

After lunch Harry practiced nonverbal magic again for his independent study course but this time he was armed with a pain-killing potion and instructions to stop and rest if his headache returned. He still couldn't make the quill disappear but at least he didn't get another headache.

On Friday he and Severus both had a free period after lunch. Harry had thought that they would continue to work on silent casting, but instead Severus announced that he thought they'd try something different. He and Harry went up to the Room of Requirement. It looked very similar to the way it had always appeared last year when Dumbledore's Army had met there, with cushions on the floor and shelves lined with books on defensive magic. The only difference was that now there was a dummy figure there also, just like the one Harry had dueled with at Prince Hall in the summer.

"Is this really Toby?" He asked, walking over to inspect the dummy more closely.

"It appears so, though I don't know for certain. It might be a copy," Severus agreed, coming to join him. "It might be interesting to let Norie and Zan know the next time we plan to come up here and have them see if Toby is missing."

They spent over an hour working together. Harry dueled against the dummy, very successfully as Severus let him say the spells aloud. Then Severus conjured items for Harry to curse or transfigure. He blasted a table to dust with the reductor curse, changed a flower into a sword, and transformed water to ice and back again. It was the most fun Harry had had all week.

Saturday was the first Hogsmeade weekend. Severus and Harry had eaten all their other meals up in the Great Hall, but had agreed to have a lie-in on Saturday and just eat together at home. It was a little later than usual when Harry dragged himself out of bed and dressed in a royal blue fleecy pullover and khaki trousers. He and Severus were just finishing their poached eggs and bacon when the Floo flared and Ron and Hermione stepped into the parlour, coming to collect Harry for the day.

There was a brief awkward moment when they were getting ready to leave and Draco Malfoy knocked on the outside door, reporting for the detention Severus had assigned him. Malfoy saw Harry and his eyes narrowed in fury, but then Severus spoke up, "Harry, have fun and I will see you this evening."

The professor turned to face the Slytherin boy and his face hardened. "Mr. Malfoy, report to my office. I'll be there shortly."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione left then, but when they stepped out of the fireplace in the side chamber off the Great Hall, Ron grinned. "I bet he's not going to play chess and have cocoa."

They met up with Neville, Ginny, and Luna in the front lobby and the six of them spent the day roaming about Hogsmeade. They visited Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop, browsed through Dervish and Banges, and, of course, spent considerable time in Honeydukes.

They ate lunch at the Three Broomsticks, savoring shepherd's pie and sipping butterbeer and then wandered through the post office because Ginny and Luna liked to see the owls. Then the little group went to Zonko's Joke Shop ("Fred and George are hoping to buy out Zonko's in a couple of years," Ron confided.) and walked by the lake that lay between the village and the school, talking about the first week of classes, Quidditch tryouts, and other light-hearted matters.

Of course Hogsmeade was crowded with the other students and some of the professors, too, and they saw lots of familiar faces. Bill Weasley wasn't there, though, and Ron reported that he hadn't been at the staff table in the Great Hall that morning either.

"I think Bill's seeing someone," he remarked. "He didn't come around as much this summer and when he was home he often seemed kind of restless and left pretty quick."

He grinned. "And one time there was a lipstick smudge on his chin, but when I asked him about it, he just said it was none of my business."

"She's kissing him on the chin?" Ginny wrinkled her nose.

Ron shrugged. "Apparently so," and they all laughed at the image.

Hagrid wasn't to be seen either and Harry felt a regretful pang when he noted the groundskeeper's absence. Hagrid was upset with him and his friends because none of them were taking Care of Magical Creatures this year.

He and Ron and Hermione had tried to go down to Hagrid's cabin on the past Wednesday afternoon to talk with him and explain that they simply didn't have time, that they had to concentrate on passing their NEWTS and preparing for a career. Of course the real reason was that, fond as they were of Hagrid, they had never enjoyed his classes, but they had agreed not to mention that part.

But Hagrid had brushed them off, claiming that he had to care for a sick thestral...which might have been true except that he had disappeared back inside and hadn't come out again. He'd been avoiding them ever since, too, refusing to look their way at mealtimes and hurrying off before they could corner him afterwards.

Hermione had gotten annoyed about it all. "Honestly, Hagrid is acting a bit ridiculous, don't you think?" She'd complained one evening when she, Harry, and Ron were gathered in the Gryffindor common room. "I mean, even if we had liked his class...which we didn't...we don't have time for it anymore, seeing as none of us are planning to tend to magical creatures for a career. You would think Hagrid would realise that. And as good friends as we've been, I think he at least owes us the courtesy of listening to us."

But Harry missed Hagrid. The big groundskeeper had been his first friend and Harry hated thinking that he was hurt with them.

***

Quidditch tryouts were held on the following weekend. Gryffindor had the pitch first and their session was scheduled immediately after breakfast. Harry was surprised and touched when Severus joined him and his friends in walking down to the field and sat with Hermione in the stands.

There was quite a crowd as several positions on the team were open. It seemed to Harry that almost half of Gryffindor House wanted to try out and the other half had come to watch.

No one else had signed up for the Seeker position though. Katie Bell, who was captain this year, had already told Harry that he would definitely play Seeker again so he himself didn't really have to try out. But he was still busy as she had him flying with other applicants in various groupings.

Ginny was quickly chosen to be one of the Chasers. She was very obviously the best choice, though a small fourth-year girl named Demelza Robbins was good too and was also chosen. Katie Bell would be the third Chaser.

Two third-year boys, Ritchie Coote and Jimmy Peakes, became the Beaters. They didn't compare to Fred and George, of course, but they were passably good.

Then it was time for the Keeper tryouts. Ron had been unusually quiet all morning and as he flew up for his trial, Harry saw, with a sinking feeling inside, that he had turned green. Ron's playing had always been greatly affected by nerves, but Harry had hoped that his brilliant performance in last year's final match would have helped.

He wanted desperately to think of something encouraging to say or do, to remind Ron of that last game, or of all the dangers that Ron had bravely faced with him. But there wasn't time for a long speech. Katie and the other Chasers were already in position to begin shooting Quaffles and Ron was nearly at the rings.

So Harry just flew up beside him and said quietly, "Ron? It's all right. I know you can do it."

Ron looked over at him and then smiled. "Yeah. Thanks, Harry."

And Ron proceeded to make five spectacular saves.

Katie grinned and pointed to him. "And there's our Keeper!"

Most of the crowd began filing back up to the castle, though some lingered while Katie gathered the new team around and they quickly planned their practise schedule.

Severus and Hermione were waiting when Harry, Ron, and Ginny came to join them a few minutes later.

Ron and Ginny immediately began discussing the tryouts, re-living each move in great detail. Hermione walked with them, looking amused as the two Weasleys talked animatedly and gestured with their hands and arms.

Harry fell back a little to walk alongside his father. "Thanks for coming," he said softly.

Severus glanced down at him. "You are my son. Of course I wanted to come to support you. You do not have to thank me for that."

"Maybe I don't have to, but I want to," Harry told him. He hesitated before continuing softly. "I always wondered what it would be like to have someone come to stuff that I did, like Quidditch games and school plays and things like that."

"School plays?" Severus raised an eyebrow. "Hogwarts doesn't have school plays."

"No, but Muggle primary schools do sometimes. Course I usually didn't do anything like that. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon didn't want me getting involved in stuff. But there was one time, when I was about six or seven, and our whole class acted out a play. It was about an Irish folktale with giants and banshees and everyone had a part."

"What were you?" Severus wanted to know, looking intrigued.

Harry shrugged. "Oh, I was just one of the townspeople. I only had one line. I had to point and say "Oh, no! They're coming!" He grinned. "I don't think Sir Laurence Olivier has to worry about being replaced."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Who is Sir Laurence Olivier?"

"Muggle actor, very famous." Harry smiled at his father. "We'll have to get you out more, Severus." His smile faded. "But anyway, I remember all the other kids had parents there, and grandparents, and everyone was taking photographs and all that. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were there...Dudley was a giant...and they made a huge fuss over him. I remember thinking that it would be nice to have that."

"And you never did," Severus' voice was sorrowful.

Harry paused. "Once I did. At the end of the Triwizard Tournament. Mrs. Weasley and Bill came to be my family that night."

He grew quiet, remembering the letter he had written to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley just before his suicide attempt. He never had given it to them, and he really ought to. Or at least tell them some of things that he had written. He would, he vowed. He would write to them this very weekend.

"I wish I had been there for you then. I cannot imagine how difficult that was for you, and you faced it alone." Severus said.

Harry thought to himself that as bad as the night of the last Task had been, that last spring, after the battle at the Department of Mysteries, had been worse. But that brought him perilously close to remembering Sirius' death and Harry didn't want to think about that.

Instead he concentrated on Severus' words.

"You are not alone any longer," his father said.

"I know," Harry responded quietly. He looked up. "What time is Slytherin's tryouts?"

"After lunch."

"Are you going to watch?" Harry asked.

"I had thought I might," Severus replied.

"I'll come down with you," Harry offered.

Severus looked a little surprised. "You don't have to, Harry, if you have plans with your friends."

But Harry realised that he did want to. He had said that he would try to get along better with the Slytherins this year and he was curious to see how Alec Morland fared.

But even more, Harry thought that Severus was making a little bit of an effort to treat the Gryffindors better. He was still strict and quick to take points, often unfairly in the Gryffindors' opinion. He still favoured his own House, with Draco Malfoy being an exception. But Harry had noticed that he hadn't made malicious personal comments lately.

And Severus did so much for him. Maybe going to the Slytherin tryouts with him was a little something that Harry could do for Severus.

So he just nodded and repeated. "I know I don't have to. I want to."

Severus didn't respond aloud, but he rested his hand on Harry's shoulder as they followed Ron, Hermione, and Ginny back up to the castle.

After lunch Harry accompanied his father back to the Quidditch pitch to watch the Slytherin tryouts. Ron and Hermione had gone off on their own so he was the only Gryffindor there. Plenty of Slytherins had come either to fly or to watch, but Draco Malfoy was no where in sight even though his thug-pals, Crabbe and Goyle were trying out.

As he and Severus found a place to sit in the stands, Harry noticed Alec's friends; Emma Davidson, Madalyn Grey, and Zach Phillips, a short distance away and waved to them. He was slightly surprised, but pleased when they waved back. Many of the other Slytherins gave him cool stares, but Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass nodded to him, if a bit hesitantly. At least with Severus there, no one made any move against him.

Alec was down on the field with the other applicants and Harry watched with interest as the Slytherin captain divided everyone up and had them begin flying manouvres. Quite a few of the old Slytherin team had graduated so they had a lot of open positions, too. After an hour or so, the team was chosen. Hugh Warrington, the seventh-year captain, was one of the Chasers, along with two fifth-years, Edward Vaisey and Marcela Brown. Crabbe and Goyle were Beaters. A fourth-year girl that Harry didn't know was the Keeper, and Alec Morland became Slytherin's new Seeker.

The younger boy waved excitedly to his friends when Warrington called out his name and his grin grew even wider when he spotted Harry sitting beside Severus.

Harry gave him a thumbs-up sign and turned to his father, smiling. "Yeah, he made it."

Severus nodded slightly, looking pleased. "Yes, he did well, thanks to you, Harry."

But Harry just gave a small shrug. "Oh, he was already good. I just gave him a couple of tips."

"It was still nice for you to help him and I do appreciate it," Severus replied.

"You're welcome," Harry told him. He considered saying something about how Severus was being a bit nicer to the Gryffindors in class and how he appreciated that...but they were surrounded by Slytherins and Harry wasn't sure his father would want him mentioning that in a crowd. He decided he would thank Severus for that later, sometime when they were alone.

Alec came over to Severus and Harry as they were leaving the stands. He was practically jumping up and down with excitement and thanked Harry so profusely that it was embarrassing.

When Severus finally mentioned that he and Harry needed to be going and they had left Alec and the other Slytherins behind, Harry asked in a low voice. "Is he related to the Creevy brothers?"

Severus actually chuckled. "Not to my knowledge, but he is giving a passable imitation of them."

"So much for Slytherin decorum." Harry grinned.

"Yes, I shall have to speak with him," Severus commented dryly.

They reached the castle and parted ways, Severus returning to their rooms and Harry heading up to Gryffindor Tower. Ron and Hermione were not in the common room, but Neville, Dean, and Seamus were seated on the floor by the fireplace, playing Exploding Snap.

Harry flopped down beside them. "Hi, guys."

"Congratulations on being Seeker. Course we knew you would be," Neville grinned at him.

"Where've you been?" Seamus asked, staring down at his hand of cards before slowly selecting one to play.

Harry hesitated, but then said firmly. "I went with Severus to watch the Slytherin tryouts."

The other boys all looked up at him in surprise.

"Why did you want to do that?" Dean wanted to know. "Unless maybe you were trying to hex them or something?" He finished thoughtfully.

Harry frowned. "I didn't try to hex them."

"Guess you couldn't, not right under Snape's nose," Dean agreed.

"I just wanted to spend some time with Severus. And I wanted to see how Alec Morland did." Harry lifted his chin and stared back at them, rather defiantly.

Seamus scowled. "I still can't believe you actually helped one of those sneaky little scumbags, Harry."

"He's not a sneaky little scumbag," Harry snapped.

"He's Slytherin, isn't he? You know what they're like," Seamus retorted. "Or have you forgotten that we're enemies? You used to hate Slytherin too, Harry. What happened? Oh, that's right, you're all buddy-buddy with Snape now."

"Severus is like my father," Harry said coldly. "And I'm not going to hate kids who've never done anything to me just because they're in Slytherin. That doesn't mean I'm disloyal to Gryffindor."

"The hell it doesn't!" Seamus glared. "Snape...your father? You have gone crazy, Potter."

"Just like I was crazy last year, when I said Voldemort was back? You're the one who keeps getting everything wrong, Finnegan!" Harry jumped to his feet at the same instant Seamus did, with Dean and Neville scrambling up half a second behind them.

"Hey, calm down, guys," Neville spoke up. "Of course Harry's loyal to Gryffindor, Seamus. Don't be an ass. I don't know about this thing with the Slytherins, but I do know that Harry's as true as they come."

"Yeah, come on, mate," Dean clapped a hand on Seamus' shoulder. He gave Harry a wry look. "I don't think helping Slytherins is a good idea, but I don't think Harry's going to throw our matches or anything."

"If you could think that, maybe I should just leave," Harry said coldly. He turned to go, but Dean stopped him.

"Hey, I said I didn't think that, all right? Sheesh, I think everybody needs to calm down and quit making a big deal about stuff."

There was a long uneasy silence then Seamus sighed and dropped back down to the floor. "Whatever. Let's finish the game."

Dean sat back down, too, and picked up his cards. "Neville, it's your turn."

Neville just looked at Harry questioningly. After a moment, Harry silently sat back down cross-legged on the floor. He didn't really feel like staying, not anymore, but if he left it would make this spat into something bigger than Harry wanted it to be.

Neville sat beside him and held his cards so Harry could see them too. "What do you think?"

He really wasn't that interested, but Harry looked over Neville's hand and pointed to a card. "Hmm, that one?"

They played Exploding Snap until Ron and Hermione came in just before dinner. Gradually the tension eased and at one point, when everyone was joking around and laughing, Harry happened to catch Seamus' eye and the other boy gave him a half-apologetic grimace. It made Harry feel a little better, but he still felt bothered that Seamus could so easily accuse him of disloyalty.

He mentioned it to Ron and Hermione as they walked down to dinner together.

"Well, it is kind of odd. I mean, until this year we were in that ‘Slytherin is the enemy' mindset, too," Ron pointed out, "and to be perfectly honest, I still think most of them are bad news. Maybe not all of them, but enough that you should watch your step."

"Yeah, but it is wrong for Slytherins and Gryffindors to just automatically be enemies," Harry answered. "The war's over, after all."

"Harry, there have been troubles between Slytherins and Gryffindors for years. Everything isn't going to smooth out overnight. Even if Voldemort is dead, there are still plenty of people who were Death Eaters or who at least supported the pureblood supremacy ideas. And yes, I know not all Slytherins believe that, but more of them do than any of the other Houses," Hermione said.

"But always seeing them as the bad guys isn't going to help. And if the Slytherins who are good people feel isolated from the rest of us, isn't that going to just drive them towards the Death Eater crowd?" Harry asked. He glanced around to make sure no one else was in ear shot and lowered his voice. "That's what happened with Severus."

Hermione looked troubled. "I don't know, Harry. I understand what you're saying, but I have to admit that I think Ron's right."

"Finally, you admit it," Ron grinned.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Every dog has his day."

"Hey, I resent that," Ron protested.

Harry was quiet but before they entered the Great Hall, he asked "Do you think I'm being disloyal to Gryffindor?"

"Oh, Harry, of course not." Hermione gave him a quick hug and Ron added staunchly, "And if Seamus or anyone else says that, then he'll have a fight on his hands."

"Thanks," Harry told them. He followed them into the Great Hall, thinking that he really did have the best friends in the world.

***

The school year was well under way and the rest of the month passed quickly. Harry was busier than ever now that Quidditch practices were added to the schedule. He enjoyed his classes, especially since he no longer had to dread Potions, face Umbridge, or worry that one of his professors was actually a Death Eater in disguise, but the work was demanding and he and his friends spent a great deal of time studying.

His marks were good and overall, Harry felt that he was learning a lot, but he was still stuck on nonverbal magic. He'd made a little progress, but it was slow and sporadic. Sometimes he could make a spell partially work, but not often and when it did, he was exhausted from the effort and sometimes had a raging headache as well. Thankfully, Severus' pain-killing draughts always helped, but it was frustrating.

It was even more frustrating when some of his classmates began to improve with silent casting. By the end of September, Hermione and Pansy Parkinson could cast many spells nonverbally. They were the most advanced, but some of the others were catching up, including Ron and even Neville.

Severus was encouraging and kept telling him to be patient, that it would come, but after several weeks Harry noticed his father would watch him practice with an intense gaze and would tighten his lips when Harry failed.

"I'm sorry," Harry said one Friday afternoon when he and Severus were in the Room of Requirement working on the independent defense course. Harry had spent the past twenty minutes trying to cast a silent stunning spell against the dueling dummy, but with no success.

Severus shook his head. "There is no reason for you to apologise."

Harry gave him a bleak look. "I'm never going to get this."

"Of course you will, sooner or later," Severus reassured him. "It is true that some wizards never are able to master silent magic, but you are most definitely powerful enough to do so. And you will. You have a very strong mind and willpower. If you can throw off the Imperius curse, you can certainly learn nonverbal magic."

"I never could learn Occlumency," Harry pointed out.

Severus sighed. "That was more my fault than yours, Harry. You probably could learn it now, if you wished. I'm sorry that I caused you to fail."

"It was my fault too," Harry admitted in a low voice. But he really didn't want to think about anything that might possibly lead to remembering Sirius' death. He raised his wand to begin practising again, but then an idea suddenly struck him.

"Severus," he said slowly. "Do you think the slavery spell could have anything to do with me not being able to cast silently? Like if the master didn't want a slave to be able to do magic without him knowing about it so there's something in the slavery spell that would keep me from doing nonverbal magic?"

Severus looked at him thoughtfully. "I don't know," he admitted after a moment. "I haven't read of any condition like that. Nor has Albus, but I suppose it could be possible. I'll mention it to him tonight."

Some of the texts and papers from historians and scholars had arrived at Hogwarts by now in response to the letters Dumbledore had sent, and Severus and the headmaster studied them for an hour or two almost every day, usually in the late afternoons before dinner. Harry normally was with his friends during that time, but now he asked, "Can I come with you?"

Severus nodded. "If you would like. But right now we need to keep working on defense."

Harry nodded and tried to push thoughts of the slavery spell away. "Should I keep trying to cast silently?"

"No, I think not. We won't work on nonverbal magic again until we've discussed the situation with Albus. If the spell is preventing you from being able to cast silently and you're fighting against it that may be the cause of your headaches," Severus replied.

"I hate that damned spell!" Harry turned away, his face twisting with pain and anger.

Severus stepped close and laid his hand on Harry's shoulder. He didn't say anything, but the warm gentle pressure of his hand was comforting. After a moment Harry drew a deep breath and tried to change the subject. "So what should I do?"

Severus gave Harry's shoulder a light squeeze and then stepped back, all business again. "A duel perhaps?"

Duelling was one of Harry's favorite activities and usually it put him in a good mood. But today he only nodded grimly and stalked to a spot at the other end of the room, opposite the dueling dummy (which was not the actual Toby they had discovered through letters to Norie and Zan, but a clever copy).

He spent the next hour pretending the dummy was Draco Malfoy and blasting it to dust.

"I think I'll call this one ‘Drake'," Harry announced at end of their session.

Severus raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment.

A short time later they headed for Dumbledore's office and Severus told him about Harry's theory. The headmaster looked startled, then considered the idea.

"To be honest, I rather doubt it," he finally said. "Simply because the conditions of the slavery spell were stated very explicitly in the Malfoy book. I would think that if the slave were prevented from doing certain types of magic, then that would have been mentioned as well. Still, it is not out of the realm of possibility. Harry, perhaps it would be best if you did not attempt nonverbal magic for a while, at least until Severus and I have thoroughly examined all the information we can gather."

Harry just nodded, trying not to let his pain and anger show again. Unlike Dumbledore, he believed that the slavery spell could very well be the reason he was having such trouble with silent casting, and it was just one more way the spell had messed him up. But what good would it do to get angry? It wouldn't change anything.

He swallowed hard. "Yes, sir, but what about class? What should I do when we're supposed to work on nonverbal magic?"

"If I remember correctly, a good deal of whispering goes on during those times, doesn't it?" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at him.

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir. Okay, whispering then."

He settled down in an armchair and tried to distract himself by writing a letter to Norie and Zan. Severus and Dumbledore selected sheets of parchment from a drawer in the headmaster's great mahogany desk and began reading and taking notes.

***

And then it was October.

The emerald leaves on the trees became scarlet and gold. Morning frost covered the ground like a thin silver blanket at dawn, though it soon melted under the sun's rays. School life continued in the comfortable routine of classes, studying, Quidditch practise, and weekend visits to Hogsmeade.

Harry tried to write to Norie and Zan every week and he wrote a letter to Remus, too, though he never could get up the nerve to send it and ended up burning it instead.

Hagrid remained distant and cool, and then one day he abruptly disappeared. Harry, Ron, and Hermione questioned first Severus, and then Dumbledore when Severus didn't know anything about the gamekeeper's disappearance. The headmaster explained that Hagrid had requested leave due to a personal matter, but that he planned to return by the end of term.

"Do you think it has anything to do with Grawp?" Ron asked when they were alone, but Harry and Hermione could only shrug helplessly.

Harry was still worrying over Hagrid later that day as he made his way to the library after Transfiguration. Severus had assigned him an essay on methods of counteracting dark objects for his advanced defense course and Harry had decided that he needed more information. He had climbed the fourth-floor staircase when he heard low angry voices and sounds of scuffling coming from a side corridor.

He hesitated for a second. He didn't know what or who was involved and he was alone. Hermione had had Arithmancy and Ron hadn't wanted to go to the library. But when he heard a muffled cry of pain, Harry drew his wand and ran around the corner.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were about halfway down the hall, and a smaller figure had doubled up in pain before them...Alec Morland. A roaring rage swept over Harry and at that moment he completely forgot that he was alone and outnumbered. Nothing mattered except keeping Malfoy and his goons from hurting anyone else.

If Harry hadn't been so overcome with fury, though, he might have noticed that Draco Malfoy actually did an odd thing: he gave Crabbe a rough shove and snapped, "What the hell's wrong with you? We don't hurt our own!"

A look of sulky confusion crossed over Crabbe's dull round face. "But you threatened him."

"I didn't hit him or curse him. He is Sly..." Draco started to reply, but before he could, Crabbe suddenly went rigid and fell to the ground. A split second later Goyle crashed to the floor like a gigantic tree collapsing, too.

Draco spun around to see Harry racing down the hall, wand pointed at him, lips moving as he whispered a spell. "Protego!"

Thin, snakelike cords shot from the end of Harry's wand, but Draco's shield charm had gone up in time and the ropes bounced harmlessly off of it. Harry circled him, whispering furiously under his breath as he cast one spell after another as quickly as he could.

Draco deflected a jelly-legs jinx, a babbling hex, and a disarming spell, just managing to keep his shield intact, but he didn't cast anything against Harry.

"Will you knock it off, Potter?" The blond boy hissed as beads of sweat formed on his forehead from the effort of maintaining his defenses. "Morland might need help. Crabbe kicked him in the ribs."

"As if you care!" Harry snapped back. "You set them on him. Three of you against a second-year! You're nothing but a bully,...a bully and a coward. You know everybody hates you, don't you, Malfoy? I don't even think the other Slytherins like you. I know Severus doesn't."

Malfoy's face crumpled and for a second Harry wondered wildly if he might break down, but then his face smoothed out into a cold emotionless mask, though his blazing eyes belied the façade. His wand hand twitched and he opened his mouth but before he could speak, a new voice broke in.

"Enough!" Dumbledore raised his hand and three wands...Draco's, Crabbe's, and Goyle's...flew into his grasp. "What is going on here?"

"They were beating up Alec Morland," Harry answered, keeping his own wand trained on Draco. "I was going to the library and I heard them."

Dumbledore knelt beside Alec, who had pushed himself into a sitting position by the wall. "Mr. Morland, are you hurt?"

Alec shook his head. "I'm okay, sir."

The headmaster stood and turned to Draco, his face as hard as stone. "Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco hesitated, then abruptly slumped. "You only listen to Potter. It doesn't matter what I say."

"On the contrary, Mr. Malfoy. I'm most interested in hearing your explanation for why a second-year student was lying on the floor in pain and why you were dueling with Mr. Potter, after you were specifically warned to be on your best behavior this year," Dumbledore responded.

"I didn't hurt Morland, and I didn't duel with Potter," Draco said flatly. "I only cast a Shield Charm."

Dumbledore's eyes flicked over to Harry in silent question.

Harry had a brief struggle with himself before finally answering. "I don't know which one of them hurt Alec. But Malfoy didn't cast anything against me."

"We shall discuss the matter further in my office." Dumbledore canceled the body-binds on Crabbe and Goyle and as they lumbered sullenly back to their feet, he looked at Harry.

"Harry, will you please take Mr. Morland to the infirmary? I would like for Madame Pomfrey to make certain that he is not injured."

Harry nodded and Dumbledore motioned to Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle.

"Come along, then." And the headmaster ushered the three older Slytherins away.

Harry pocketed his wand and knelt beside Alec. He put his hand on the younger boy's shoulder. "Hey, are you really all right?"

Alec drew in a ragged breath and nodded. "Yeah, I think so."

Harry carefully helped him to his feet. "Well, come on then. Let's get you to the infirmary."

Alec had three bruised ribs from Crabbe kicking him, which Madame Pomfrey promptly healed. She gave him some salve to rub on his chest and ordered him to avoid any strenuous activity for a day or two, which made the younger boy grimace. That provoked a stern lecture from the medi-witch and Alec composed his features into a remorseful, wide-eyed ‘puppy dog' stare, though when Madame Pomfrey had turned away he rolled his eyes at Harry.

"I'm perfectly fine now, really," he muttered.

Harry had had plenty of experience with Madame Pomfrey's overprotectiveness. He had also had experience with her acute sense of hearing though, so he only gave Alec a sympathetic grin.

"And I intend for you stay that way," the medi-witch retorted. "I will drop a word to Professor Snape to make sure he knows that you're to take things easy for a couple of days."

"But we have Quidditch practice tonight," Alec protested.

"I'm sure your team can manage without you for one evening," Madame Pomfrey said.

As Alec's face fell, she shook her head slightly. "It's hardly the end of the world, Mr. Morland. Students do miss Quidditch practice from time to time, you know, for illness or detention or some other reason. And you'll be back in top form for Saturday's game."

The first Quidditch game of the season was on Saturday, and as luck would have it, it happened to be between Gryffindor and Slytherin.

Alec shot a grin at Harry. "Well, that's good. I'd hate to miss my chance to beat Harry."

"Beat me? Are you kidding?" Harry grinned back at him.

"I see no reason to confine you to the infirmary so you're free to leave when you wish," Madame Pomfrey interrupted their bantering.

Alec had been sitting on a cot while Harry perched on a nearby chair. They climbed to their feet, Alec looking very relieved, but before they had taken a step, green flames shot high in the infirmary's fireplace and Dumbledore stepped into the room.

"Mr. Morland, how are you?" the headmaster inquired, his eyes studying the boy with a kind, intense gaze.

Alec nodded. "I'm fine, sir."

"Very good. I'm most happy to hear that." Dumbledore turned to Harry. "And thank you for watching out for him, Harry."

"You're welcome, sir."

"It appears that Madame Pomfrey has released you?" Dumbledore questioned, shooting a glance at the medi-witch.

She nodded. "Yes, he's well enough. He just needs to take things easy for a couple of days."

"Excellent, but before you leave, I need to speak with you...both of you. I've spoken with the other boys, but I need to hear your versions of what happened as well," Dumbledore said.

"Well, my friends and I were going back to our dorm after Charms, but then I realized that I had left a book in the classroom so I went back for it," Alec explained. "I was alone in the fourth-floor corridor when Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle came up on me. Malfoy kind of shoved me and said something about me taking his Quidditch spot away from him. He said I should watch out, but then he started to walk on. Then Crabbe pushed me down and kicked me in the ribs."

He looked over at Harry with shining eyes. "And then Harry came running up and saved me."

The hero-worship in Alec's eyes made Harry uncomfortable and he tried to shrug it off. "It was no big deal."

"It was a big deal to me," Alec protested.

Dumbledore just smiled at Harry. "It was a valiant act, Harry. There's no need to deny it. But can you tell me the details?"

So Harry described how he had come to Alec's aid and finished with, "And then you were there, sir, so you know the rest of it."

Dumbledore looked at them closely. "I do have one more question, a rather important one. Mr. Malfoy claims that he never intended for Mr. Morland to come to any harm and that he stopped Mr. Crabbe once he realized that his friend had actually made a physical attack. Is this true?"

Harry and Alec were both quiet for a moment. Harry tried to recall if he had heard Draco say anything, but truthfully, all he could remember clearly was his fury and his determination to keep the older Slytherin boys from hurting anyone else.

He shrugged. "I don't know, sir."

But Alec spoke up, his forehead creased in thought. "I think maybe I remember him saying something to Crabbe, about how they shouldn't hurt me cause we were all Slytherins."

The headmaster nodded. "Thank you very much, both of you. If you are sure that you're quite all right, Mr. Morland, I shall be heading back to my office to discuss appropriate punishments with your Housemates."

Dumbledore turned to leave, but then paused. "Oh, and Harry, if you see Professor Snape, you could tell him that there's no need to come up to my office later. I have to attend a dinner with the school's governors this evening."

After Dumbledore had gone, Alec looked at Harry anxiously. "I hope this won't make things worse. If they blame me for getting them into trouble, they'll really be after me then."

"I think you should tell your prefects what happened," Harry told him. "You can tell them you need to speak with them in private if you don't want anyone else to know, but it's their job to watch out for you younger kids and to make sure everything runs smoothly within their House. And tell your friends, too, so they'll know to stick close to you for a while, til it all dies down."

"I will." Alec seemed reassured. Nonetheless, Harry decided that he would also let Severus know about the incident so his father could help keep an eye on the situation. He had no doubt that his father could keep Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle in line.

As they were leaving the infirmary, Alec added gratefully, "Thanks a lot, Harry, really. I can never pay you back for everything you've done for me."

Harry just shook his head. "You're welcome, Alec. But you don't owe me anything. Anyone would have helped."

Alec shook his head, too, completely serious. "No, lots of people would have just gone on their way and not gotten involved. I know cause I used to be like that. I was scared to stand up to people, even if I wanted to. Or else I thought ‘it's none of my business' or ‘I'm just a kid so I can't do anything about it'. But I'm not going to be like that anymore so if you ever need help, you can count on me."

Then, as if he were embarrassed, Alec gave him a quick wave and hurried off down the corridor.

Well, it looks like I have one Slytherin friend. Harry mused as he made his way towards the library. Then he thought of Severus and smiled. Make that two Slytherin friends.

***

Harry told Severus about the incident as they ate dinner in their quarters that evening, but as it turned out, his father already knew.

"Yes, both Albus and Poppy have informed me of the trouble. Poppy wanted me to be certain that Alec Morland did not overexert himself and Albus was letting me know that he had assigned Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle detention every Friday evening for the rest of the term. Also, that he had taken thirty points from Slytherin. Incidentally, he awarded Gryffindor ten points on your behalf."

Severus' tone was dry and Harry studied him, feeling a little concerned and unhappy.

"Are you angry?"

"With those three idiots in my House? Absolutely. I'm furious with them," Severus responded. His gaze softened as he looked his son. "However, I am very proud and pleased with you."

Harry smiled at him. "Even if Gryffindor is ahead in points now?"

"Only until the Quidditch match," Severus answered loftily. "I promised my team fifty points if they won. I'm certain with the extra motivation we're assured of victory."

"You wish," Harry retorted. But then he bit his lip and and looked at his father a little anxiously. "Will you be upset, if Gryffindor wins, I mean?"

Severus reached to hold Harry's fingers in his hand, lightly squeezing them. "You are my son, Harry. You are infinitely more important to me than House rivalries or Quidditch games. If you win, I will be happy for your sake."

A warm contented feeling blossomed in Harry's chest. "I love you, Severus."

Severus' dark eyes glimmered. "I love you, too."

***

Unfortunately the rest of the week went downhill after that evening. Heavy grey storm clouds rolled across the sky, obliterating the sunlight, and the next few days were chilly and damp. Rain fell intermittently and even when it wasn't raining, a thick fog covered the ground.

Quidditch practice was miserable and it was all but impossible to see the snitch. Everyone played badly and Harry, along with the rest of the team, was frustrated and discouraged by the time Katie finally called it quits.

He woke up the next morning with a stuffy head and a sore throat and even a fresh batch of Severus' Pepper-Up Potion didn't help much. Harry sniffled and sneezed his way through his classes and as soon as they were over he told his friends that he was going back home to rest.

He lay down on the sofa with a blanket, intending to only take a short nap and then work some more on his defense essay, but it seemed that he'd only just closed his eyes when the next thing he knew Severus was shaking his shoulder and calling his name.

"Harry? It's time for dinner."

Harry blearily opened his eyes to see his father bending over the sofa, looking concerned. He must have slept for a couple of hours if it was already dinner time. But he wasn't the least bit hungry. In fact, he felt worse than he had earlier and it was awfully cold, too. Harry shivered and buried down under the blanket.

"I'm not hungry," he rasped, feeling as if his throat were on fire. The words were barely out of his mouth when a coughing fit overtook him. For several long moments Harry was racked by dry harsh coughs. When they finally subsided, he lay back against the arm of sofa feeling exhausted, despite the nap.

Severus' face was still, but he couldn't hide the alarm in his eyes. "I'm calling Poppy."

She came through the fireplace a moment later and headed straight to Harry, with Severus at her heels.

"So you're not feeling well, Harry dear?" She inquired.

"I'm all right," Harry tried to say, but he was interrupted by another coughing fit.

"That's a nasty cough," Madame Pomfrey commented, waving her wand in a series of diagnostic spells. "How long have you had it?"

"It just started," Harry said wearily. "But I woke up with a cold."

"Have you taken any Pepper-Up?" Madame Pomfrey looked from Harry to Severus.

"This morning at breakfast," Severus answered while Harry whispered, "Yes, but it didn't help any."

"Well, let's try another dose now and then again in four hours. Right now you just have a particularly bad cold, but we do want to be careful that it doesn't develop into anything worse. You probably don't have much appetite, but if you could eat a little soup, that would be good for you. And drink plenty of juice."

Madame Pomfrey turned to Severus. "You'll need to keep an eye on him, Severus. It wouldn't hurt to add a mild sleeping sedative to the last dose of Pepper-Up. As long as Harry's fever doesn't shoot up and he doesn't grow sicker, then I'd let him sleep through the night and resume dosing with Pepper-Up in the morning. But if he gets any worse at all, call me at once."

Severus nodded solemnly. "I will."

He followed Madame Pomfrey across the room to the fireplace and asked in a low voice, "This is my fault, isn't it, Poppy? His lungs are weakened from breathing in those poisonous fumes last summer?"

Poppy patted his arm. "Not necessarily, Severus. I've treated several Quidditch players for colds this week, and some non-Quidditch playing students too. It's just the time of year. People will catch colds sometimes, especially in weather like this."

"I wasn't careful enough," Severus muttered in self-recrimination. "I shouldn't have let him go to Quidditch practice last night. I've known that he could be prone to illness and I haven't been careful enough."

"Severus, you are not to blame yourself," Poppy said, her voice low but firm. "You take excellent care of Harry. It's just a cold. He'll be fine in a few days. Just keep watch."

When she had gone, Severus came over to the sofa and conjured a pillow for Harry to sit up against. He summoned the Pepper-Up potion and after Harry had taken it, he asked, "Can you try to eat a little soup?"

Harry really didn't want it, but Madame Pomfrey had said it would be good for him and he did want to get well as quickly as possible. His first Quidditch game was only two days away. So he nodded, "All right."

He made himself eat the bowl of chicken noodle soup that Severus ordered for him and drank a glass of pumpkin juice as well. Then he lay back on the pillow, huddled under the blanket, and dozed off again.

Some time later he woke up enough to take another dose of medicine and to protest when Severus tried to pick him up and carry him to his bedroom.

"I can walk, Severus. I'm not a baby."

"Of course," Severus agreed, though Harry thought he seemed a little anxious.

Harry changed into his pyjamas and climbed into bed. A few minutes later his father stepped into the doorway.

"Would it insult your maturity if I came in to say good night, o' wise and ancient sage of sixteen?"

Severus' tone was light, but Harry could hear the love and concern underneath. Although he still felt pretty bad...his throat was still sore and his head felt as if it had been stuffed with cotton, he made himself smile for his father's sake. "Come on in."

Severus took his wand and ran through his own diagnostic spell. "Well, your fever's gone at least." He tucked the blankets around Harry's shoulders and stroked his fingers through his hair. "Call me if you feel worse or if you need anything. And I mean that, Harry."

Harry nodded. "All right. I will."

Severus dropped a kiss onto Harry's forehead. "Good night then."

But Harry slept fairly well through the night. He came partially awake a couple of times, vaguely aware of coughing and of his father's presence in his room. Severus rested his hand against Harry's forehead, re-tucked blankets about him, and murmured soft words that Harry was too sleepy to catch. But each time Harry drifted off again within minutes and when he woke in the morning he felt much better.

For a moment he just lay still, enjoying feeling clear-headed and well again. Then he glanced at the clock on his night table and abruptly leaped to his feet and dashed to his bathroom to throw on his clothes. It was well past the time he usually woke and his first class was almost over.

"Harry, are you all right?" Severus knocked on the closed door.

"Yeah, I'm lots better, but I've missed Defense. I'll be lucky to make Charms on time," Harry replied. "Why didn't you wake me up?" He paused. "And aren't you supposed to be in class too?"

"No, because I canceled my classes to stay with you," Severus told him. "And I contacted your friends and told them that you were ill, to tell your professors that you wouldn't be in class today."

Harry opened the door and came out, half-dressed in his school trousers but still wearing his pyjama shirt. "But I'm fine now. I feel a lot better, really."

Severus ran through a spell and nodded, unable to hide his relief. "Yes, you do seem to be well on the path to recovery, thank goodness. But I don't think it would do you any harm to stay home and rest today."

Harry started to protest again and Severus arched an eyebrow at him. "Are you really so opposed to having a day off?"

Harry considered and then smiled a little. "I guess not. All right, I'll take it easy today."

Severus' lips quirked upwards and he reached over to card his fingers through his son's hair. "I am glad you're feeling better," he said softly before leaving.

Harry decided to dress in casual clothes instead of his school uniform so he changed into jeans and a warm dark green jumper with a high neck. He put on socks, but then pulled on his bedroom slippers rather than real shoes, as he was just going to be at home today. Then he went out to the parlour to join his father.

They ate porridge and toast. Though he felt better, Harry discovered that he still wasn't very hungry, but he made himself eat to keep up his strength, and then he and Severus spent a pleasant day together, reading and playing chess. It reminded Harry of their summer at Prince Hall, when so often it had been just the two of them. Well, the last part of the summer anyway, once they'd grown comfortable around one another.

Harry was thinking about those memories, and thinking that although he was very happy at Hogwarts and enjoyed being with all his friends too, that he did miss having Severus to himself and just the two of them spending time together when his father looked over at him and asked, "Is something wrong? You've been staring into space for over five minutes."

Harry looked at him and smiled. "No, nothing's wrong. I was just thinking that I missed this, you know, just us spending time together like we did at Prince Hall."

"I miss it, too," Severus agreed. "We are both quite busy here, aren't we? Perhaps we could make an effort to spend a bit more time together?"

"Yeah, I'd like that," Harry said softly.

The day passed quickly. Severus made sure Harry kept taking his potions, despite Harry's protests that he was better, and they had more soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch. Harry dozed for a while afterwards...he wondered if Severus had added another sleeping sedative to the Pepper-Up...and late in the afternoon Ron and Hermione came by to bring Harry his assignments and the notes that Hermione had copied for him. Severus greeted them politely and then went off to his office, leaving Harry alone with his friends.

"So you're feeling better?" Hermione asked.

Harry nodded. "Yep, right as rain now."

Ron pulled a face. "Don't mention rain. It's still pouring and it's supposed to rain all weekend too. Quidditch should be fun tomorrow."

He looked suddenly anxious. "Hey, are you going to be able to play tomorrow?"

"Sure," Harry said. "I'm fine now."

Hermione studied him. "Are you sure, Harry? Severus said you had a very bad cold. You might not need to be out in the rain."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm fine, Hermione. Don't fuss."

"Yeah, Harry can't miss our first game, especially against Slytherin. We need him," Ron put in. He glanced over at his friend. "So long as you really are well."

"Yes, I'm all better now," Harry exclaimed in exasperation. "And of course I'm not going to miss our first game."

"Good, cause I've heard that Slytherin's looking tough. That Moreland kid isn't half bad, and Warrington, Vaisey, and Brown are good, too," Ron told him.

He and Ron talked Quidditch for a little while longer while Hermione just watched Harry with a worried frown, which Harry ignored. But Ron and Hermione didn't stay very long. They had a lot of homework and even Ron reluctantly said they needed to get started on it since they probably wouldn't get much done the next day.

After they'd gone Harry got started on his assignments too. Ron was right. There was the Quidditch match tomorrow, and then there was sure to be a party afterwards, win or lose. The Gryffindors never needed much of an excuse to throw a party. Of course it would be more fun if it were a victory party though.

Harry thought that Gryffindor had a good chance. They were a good team; they'd practiced hard; and thanks to the Wronski book that Severus had given him, Harry had picked up some amazing new techniques. And even if they didn't win, it still ought to be an exciting game. He could hardly wait.

But when he mentioned the match at dinner that evening, his father gave him a long look and then said quietly, "Harry, I don't think you need to play in tomorrow's match."

Harry stared at him. "What?"

Severus sighed. "You are better, but you are still recovering and the weather is still quite bad. I'm afraid you would relapse and become even sicker if you were outside for any length of time tomorrow."

"But I'm not sick anymore! I'm fine now!" Harry protested.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I don't want you to play tomorrow." Severus' eyes were sorrowful, but his voice was firm.

"And I have to obey you because I'm a slave," Harry said bitterly.

A hurt expression flickered across Severus' face. "I expect you to obey me because I'm your father and I have your best interests in mind. The slavery spell has nothing to do with that."

"Yeah, right. You just want to be sure Slytherin wins. You said you would let me play for Gryffindor, even against Slytherin. But you didn't mean any of it. Slytherin means more to you than I ever will!" Harry wasn't sure why those hateful words spewed out. Even as he said them, he knew they weren't really true, but he was just so angry and upset that he couldn't seem to stop himself.

Severus' eyes flashed. He took a deep breath and said evenly. "I think you know that none of that is true. I know you're disappointed and upset and I am sorry about that. But you've been ill and I don't want to risk your health."

"It's all your fault," Harry glared at him. "If I hadn't breathed in those fumes I wouldn't have gotten sick."

Severus just stared at him in stricken silence. All of a sudden Harry couldn't bear the jumble of guilt and anger and bitter disappointment that swelled in his chest.

He leaped up from the table and ran to his room, slamming the door behind him.

For a moment Harry just leaned against the door, breathing hard and shaking with mixed emotions. But he was too keyed up to remain still for long and he abruptly swung away and paced furiously around his room.

How could Severus do this to him? He knew how important Quidditch was to Harry. It was more than just a game. It was his one real talent, the only thing he was good at. And it was especially important now.

Harry felt so badly about himself most of the time. He tried not to. He tried not to think about the slavery spell at all, but it kept creeping into his mind with insidious persistence, often at night when he lay in the dark before succumbing to sleep, and sometimes in the daytime as well, usually when he was alone or felt discouraged about something. Then all those feelings of inferiority flooded back full-strength.

He'd never been worth as much as other people. Harry had always known that, from his earliest memories. His own family had despised him; so had the other kids and the teachers at his primary school. The neighbors on Privet Drive had always watched him with a mixture of scorn and fear. When he'd come to Hogwarts, things had gotten a lot better, but there were still plenty of people who viewed him either with suspicion or dislike.

There had to be something about him that made so many people hate him.

There were a few exceptions. Over the years Harry had come to realize that Ron and Hermione truly loved him. He could probably trust the other Weasleys and Neville and Luna to stick with him, too.

And Severus. Harry really did believe that Severus loved him now too.

But they didn't love him because he was worthy. No, somehow they cared for him in spite of all his flaws, in spite of his weakness and arrogance and stupidity.

Because he was weak and arrogant and stupid. He had never been able to defend himself against his Muggle relatives, even though he had magic and they didn't. Instead he'd struggled for years, trying to please them and earn their approval, long after the time of reason, when even he knew deep down that it just wasn't going to happen. But still he'd wanted to belong so badly that he had ignored the truth and kept trying.

He hadn't defended himself against Umbridge either, not even to go to an adult for help. He had been arrogant and stupid and had refused to learn Occlumency. He had killed Sirius and driven Remus away.

And as if all that weren't enough, he even had official confirmation of his worthlessness. He was a slave. And no matter how much Harry tried to ignore it, no matter how often Severus tried to reassure him, Harry could never forget that according to the slavery spell, he wasn't even a person anymore.

He was just a possession, a thing.

He had no rights. He could not own anything. Even the clothes on his back had to belong to Severus legally. The invisibility cloak that had been in the Potter family for generations now belonged to Severus; so did the Firebolt, his precious gift from Sirius, and the equally precious photo album.

Everything belonged to Severus, from the shoes Harry wore to the parchment and quill he used in class. None of it was really his. He could use the things and keep them close, but only because Severus was a good man who didn't want anyone to be a slave and he was trying to make things as bearable as possible for Harry.

So why couldn't his father understand that he really needed to be able to play in this Quidditch game? He needed it because Quidditch and flying helped him to forget his troubles, even if only for a little while. He was free again when he was soaring through the air. He could forget how worthless he was when he was caught up in the exhilarating race for the Snitch. And when he captured it and helped his team win, when his teammates hugged him and cheered and the crowd roared its approval, then Harry could forget the hateful glares and cruel jeers that he had received so often.

Not for long, but for just a little while, he could forget.

And he really was better. He hadn't run a fever and had hardly coughed at all that day. He felt fine. Severus was just being ridiculously overprotective, probably because he did feel so guilty about Harry breathing in those poisonous fumes last summer.

That had been a really terrible thing for Harry to say, to blame his father for his illness when Severus was already torn up from blaming himself.

Harry sighed and sank down on the edge of his bed, suddenly feeling weary. He glanced over at his closed door and wondered if Severus would come to him. Or perhaps Harry should go back out to the parlour, apologize, and try to reason with his father.

He almost stood up from the bed and went, but then he imagined having to tell the other Gryffindors that he wouldn't be able to play for them tomorrow. He couldn't bear to let them down and Seamus would make comments about how Snape had Harry under his thumb or even worse, that Harry was deliberately betraying them to the Slytherins. It wouldn't matter that it wasn't true. It was how his Housemates would see things, and then they would turn on him again.

Harry clenched his fists, angry all over again. It just wasn't right for Severus to take Quidditch away from him. He had to play in that game tomorrow. He just had to.

But how to convince Severus? For a long time Harry perched on the edge of the bed, absentmindedly worrying his lower lip between his teeth as he pondered various arguments to no avail. For all that things had changed so much between them, Severus was still notoriously stubborn and if he had convinced himself that he was acting in Harry's best interests, he would never change his mind.

But what if he didn't try to convince Severus? What if he just went ahead and played and dealt with the consequences afterwards? As soon as that enticing idea blossomed in his mind, Harry caught his breath and looked guiltily at the door once again, as if fearing that somehow Severus could read his mind from the other room and would come charging in with righteous fury.

But Severus didn't appear and after a moment Harry slowly let out his breath and looked down at his hands, biting his lip even harder.

He wouldn't really be disobeying, would he? After all, Severus had not actually forbidden him from playing tomorrow. He'd just said that he would prefer for Harry not to, that he didn't think it was a wise idea. But he had never outright said that Harry couldn't play, had he?

So if Severus had not truly forbidden it, then Harry could play. Couldn't he?

Yes, Harry nodded, satisfied. He could play. He'd just have to be careful not to let his father find out, not until it was too late for him to stop it. Not because Harry was disobeying...but if Severus knew of his plans, then he would forbid it and then Harry would be disobeying.

A sudden thought sent icy alarm down his spine. What about the slavery spell? Would it think he was disobeying his master...even though he really wasn't, of course? Harry thought furiously about the conditions of the slavery spell, something he usually tried to keep hidden in the back of his mind.

He couldn't try to escape or hurt Severus. He couldn't own possessions. He had to obey or else Severus could punish him however he wished.

But the spell itself wouldn't hurt him for disobeying (not that Harry was, exactly. He wasn't going against Severus...just sort of sliding around him). It would leave him at the mercy of his master.

But Severus had said for Harry not to think of him as a master, just as his father. And Severus loved him. He would never do anything that would really hurt Harry. He'd probably be upset, of course, but once he saw that Harry was fine, he'd realize that he'd over-reacted to a little cold. He might even admire Harry's logic. After all, Severus was Slytherin and Slytherins were masters of logical thinking and cunning plans.

So okay. He was going to play tomorrow. He'd just have to avoid Severus and find a way to sneak down to the Quidditch pitch in the morning. That shouldn't be too hard.

Harry thought for a few minutes about his plan, but soon he decided to go on to bed. Severus hadn't come in to speak with him yet, but he probably would at some point in the evening. He usually did when he knew Harry was upset, and even though he wasn't disobeying, Harry felt uncomfortable about facing his father just now.

Besides, he needed to get some sleep if he were going to play Quidditch in the morning.

Harry quickly changed into his pyjamas, dimmed his lights, and slid into bed. He closed his eyes and fell asleep, resolutely ignoring the little voice in his head that tried to tell him he was being a fool if he believed any of that nonsense.

***

After Harry stormed off to his room, Severus sat at the dining table in stricken silence for a while. He wondered if he were being ridiculous. Harry really had seemed better today.

But almost well was not the same thing as completely well, and even though Harry might not realize it, he wasn't up to full strength yet. He'd slept for a good part of the day and that just wasn't like him. And even though he'd eaten his meals, it had been obvious to Severus that he was forcing himself to in order to keep up his strength, not because his appetite had truly returned.

If only the weather were nice, then perhaps Severus might have considered allowing him to play even without being fully recovered, because he did understand that it was very important to Harry. The boy had been through so much in the past months and it had been a very long time since he'd been able to play. There hadn't been any Quidditch at all during Harry's fourth year due to the Triwizard Tournament and then he'd been unfairly banned last year during Umbridge's reign.

Harry had been so excited about tomorrow's match. It was no wonder that he was upset and angry about being denied his chance to participate. It was no wonder that he blamed Severus and had lashed out so.

But it still hurt, all the more because Harry was right. Severus couldn't help but blame himself for his son's illness. Maybe the poor weather and the changing of the seasons had been the direct cause, but Severus had to wonder if the boy's immune system and/or his lungs were weakened slightly from the grueling experience he'd suffered from breathing in those poisonous fumes at Prince Hall.

And that was all Severus' fault. Harry had been his ward, solely under his care, and because of his own misjudged anger and his willful blindness, Severus had caused the child to suffer horribly and with possible permanent consequences.

He could never forgive himself for that.

And he hated to have to keep Harry from playing tomorrow. He could scarcely bear to cause his son any more pain and sorrow. But there was simply no choice in the matter. The weather was not nice and though Harry was better, he was not yet recovered. He would still be very susceptible to the chill and dampness and if he relapsed, it could easily develop into a far more serious illness than a mere cold. A secondary infection could be more severe than the first simply because the body was already weakened and compromised.

Being a responsible adult, being a father, meant that he had to do what was best for Harry in the long run, even when it was difficult...especially when it was difficult.

Well, it was only one Quidditch match. There would be plenty of others, after all. The whole year lay before them. Harry was angry and disappointed, and understandably so, but surely it would pass.

The more difficult and painful problem was that Harry blamed him for the incident at Prince Hall, also understandably, because it had been Severus' fault. No matter how hard Severus tried to make up for it, he couldn't change the past. All he could was apologize and keep trying.

Severus sighed and roused himself. He turned to look at the closed door leading to Harry's room. He needed to go and talk with his son, even though he really didn't know what to say. But he couldn't bear for Harry to be alone when he was hurt and disappointed.

But Harry was already asleep when Severus knocked softly on the door and then peeked inside. And though a part of him had wanted to settle things with Harry tonight, another part was relieved. Perhaps by tomorrow Harry would have calmed down enough to see Severus' point of view and they could discuss things more rationally.

While he's sitting out the Quidditch match? Don't count on it, Severus thought wryly. He sighed again and crossed the darkened room to rest his hand on his son's forehead. Harry's skin was cool so at least he wasn't running a fever. Severus tucked the bedcovers about Harry's shoulders and carded his fingers through the messy dark hair.

"I'm sorry, son. Please understand," he whispered before silently slipping away to his own room for the night.

***

The sky outside the enchanted window was dark when Harry opened his eyes the next morning. Good, he thought as he slipped out of bed. Severus was also an early riser, but even so he was likely to still be sleeping at this hour. But just in case, Harry dressed in a Gryffindor sweatshirt and jeans instead of his Quidditch uniform. He stuffed that into a bag; then cast a shrinking charm on his Firebolt and hid it in the bag as well. He started to leave his room, but then it occurred to him that the Quidditch match wasn't scheduled to begin until nine o'clock that morning and he would have several hours to kill waiting inside the locker room. He grabbed Secrets of Seeking from his desk and added it to the bag too.

In the parlour he scribbled a quick note to Severus and left it on the dining table. He didn't want his father to worry about him missing, and hopefully Severus wouldn't go searching for him if he thought Harry was sulking.

The note read simply:

Severus,

I'm not going to watch the Quidditch match. I'll see you later.

Harry

At first Harry had started to write that he wasn't going to the Quidditch match, but that would be a lie and he didn't want to lie to his father. So he had made the subtle change. He wasn't going to watch the match; he was going to play in it. But with any luck, Severus wouldn't catch the difference...at least not until it was too late. And Harry hadn't lied. The note was the absolute truth.

Harry Flooed upstairs and slipped through the Great Hall and the entrance lobby. Everything was quiet, even the portraits were still sleeping. The house elves might possibly be awake, but if so they were all down in the kitchen preparing breakfast before the students woke.

The weather outside was cold and foggy, and Harry shivered as he hurried towards the Quidditch pitch in the pre-dawn stillness. It was warmer inside the Gryffindor locker room and Harry settled himself on a bench with his bag beside him. He pulled Secrets of Seeking from it and leaned back against the lockers to read.

It was difficult to concentrate though. Harry told himself that he was just excited and maybe a little nervous about playing again after such a long break, but the truth was that his conscious kept giving him uncomfortable reminders that his father was going to be very upset with him when he realised that Harry had snuck off to fly in the game after all.

But he had to play. He couldn't disappoint his teammates. He couldn't let Gryffindor think that he was betraying them to Slytherin. He had to play for himself, too. He had counted on it for so long, and it meant so much to him.

Severus would understand...eventually. Surely he would.

Harry tried to dismiss all other thoughts from his mind and concentrate on studying the diagrams in the book. It would have been a lot easier if only he hadn't kept wondering what Severus was doing and imagining his father's expression when he saw Harry playing with the Gryffindor team. He supposed it would be too much to hope that Severus wouldn't attend the game. If Gryffindor were playing against Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, then his father might skive off. But if Slytherin were playing, then Severus would be there. Really, as Head of House, he was practically required to, barring some emergency.

Besides, even if Severus were not in attendance this morning, it would only be delaying the inevitable. He would be sure to hear that Harry had been Gryffindor's Seeker, probably before Harry could even make it back up to the castle.

For a moment Harry considered calling it all off and telling Katie that he couldn't play...but no, he just couldn't. He had to play. And he wasn't really disobeying. He wasn't! Harry sighed and turned his attention back to the book.

The time dragged endlessly, but finally, after glancing down at his watch for the thousandth time, Harry decided he might as well go ahead and put on his uniform. The other players should be arriving soon.

He quickly exchanged his sweatshirt and jeans for the scarlet jumper with golden trim, tan trousers, and black boots. He fastened his Quidditch cape about his shoulders and then took his Firebolt from the bag and enlarged it back to normal size. He placed his everyday clothes and the Secrets of Seeking book back into his bag and was zipping it closed when the door to the locker room opened and the rest of the team came trouping in.

The veterans were chattering excitedly while the newest members were pale and silent. Harry made his way over to Ron.

"Hey, where were you? We looked for you in the Hall," the red-haired boy exclaimed.

"Did you go down to our rooms?" Harry asked.

Ron shook his head. "Nah, didn't have time. I overslept; just barely made it to breakfast before Katie was rushing us off."

Harry's stomach rumbled, reminding him that he himself hadn't eaten anything, but despite that, he was really too keyed up to be hungry. Maybe he could grab a bite after the match...if his father didn't kill him first.

"Have you seen Severus this morning?" He asked next.

"No, but like I said, I was late getting downstairs. A lot of the professors had already left." Ron tilted his head and gave Harry a sharp, questioning look. "Why? Is something going on?"

"Not really. Just...Severus didn't want me to play. He thinks I'm still sick or something," Harry said with elaborate casualness.

Ron goggled at him. "And you're playing anyway? Have you gone mental?"

"Shh!" Harry ordered, glancing around to be sure the rest of the team wasn't listening. It was one thing for him to consider backing down on his own, but he didn't want Katie to learn he was going against Professor Snape and get cold feet about letting him play. Katie wasn't as bad as Hermione, but she did tend to be a stickler for the rules.

"He didn't actually say I couldn't play," Harry continued defensively. "He just said he didn't think it was a good idea."

"It's your funeral, mate," Ron told him. He studied Harry and then said slowly, "Harry, maybe you shouldn't play. I mean, it is starting to rain again and it's kind of cold. Even Quidditch isn't worth you getting really sick."

"I'm fine," Harry insisted impatiently. "Don't worry."

Ron still looked concerned, but before he could say anything else, Katie called for everyone to grab their brooms and come on, and in the bustle of leaving the locker room and rushing out to the field, he didn't get a chance to speak to Harry again.

Despite the rain, the stands were crowded with both students and faculty. Quidditch was always popular entertainment and most people turned out for the games. School umbrellas in House colours covered the stands like unnaturally vibrant toadstools. The Gryffindor and Slytherin sections were particularly colourful, with students waving banners and signs, in sharp contrast to the grey, gloomy weather.

The Slytherin team emerged from their changing room at the same time, wearing their emerald and silver uniforms and carrying their brooms. They looked very serious and almost grim, except for Alec who was beaming as happily as if he had won a lottery. He caught Harry's eye and gave him a surreptitious wave. Harry's stomach was churning with both nerves and guilt, but he had to grin back at the younger boy.

The crowd let out a great roar as the two teams came onto the field, drowning out Zacharias Smith, who had replaced Lee Jordan as commentator and who was trying valiantly to introduce the players over the noise.

The wet grass squelched under Harry's feet as he followed the rest of the Gryffindor team over to where Madam Hooch waited with the box containing the Quidditch balls. He quickly cast a repelling charm on his glasses, the one Hermione had taught him long ago so that his spectacles wouldn't cloud his vision, but he couldn't do much about the rain drops that fell on his head and face. He refused to look over at the Slytherin stands, though it would have been hard to pick Severus out from the crowd anyway from this distance. The players mounted their brooms as Madam Hooch released the balls. She blew a sharp blast on her whistle and they kicked off.

The match had begun.

Harry forgot his nerves, and even about Severus, as he lifted off into the air. Instead the familiar thrill of delight and freedom sent tingles down his spine as he soared up, higher and higher, squinting as he strained to see the tiny golden Snitch which had disappeared into the misty gloom almost instantaneously.

Alec tailed him, the younger boy's face more serious now that the game was on. Harry knew that despite their tentative friendship Alec wanted to win very badly, but that was okay. Harry did, too, and he actually welcomed a challenging opponent who would play fair...and he thought that Alec would, no matter how much he might want to win.

Below them, the other players were busy as well. Ron and the Slytherin Keeper had streaked off to defend their respective goal posts while Ginny and Katie immediately seized possession of the Quaffle. They sped towards the Slytherin goals, passing it back and forth between them as they twisted and dived to avoid the Slytherin players trying to steal it away. Demelza Robbins raced ahead to reach a spot near the goal posts. In an outstanding display of teamwork, Ginny spun her broom around and dove towards two of the Slytherin Chasers, Vaisey and Brown, distracting them from Katie who had the Quaffle. The Slytherin Captain, Hugh Warrington, blocked Katie, but she managed to shoot the Quaffle to Demelza who sent it flying past the Slytherin Keeper and scored ten points.

The Gryffindor fans shouted their approval while Katie and Ginny slapped palms with a stunned-looking Demelza.

Crabbe viciously shot a Bludger at them, but fortunately Jimmy Peakes zipped up and managed to bat it harmlessly off to the side. Madam Hooch blew her whistle furiously and awarded Gryffindor a penalty shot, which Katie took and earned another goal for Gryffindor.

Harry noticed that Hugh Warrington flew up close to Crabbe and shouted something at him, looking very displeased. Crabbe scowled, but he nodded and turned away.

Gryffindor's early success was short-lived though. The Slytherin team was also good and they quickly scored two goals of their own, bringing the game to a tie. Ron was looking disheartened so Harry, who was nearby, called encouragingly to him. He didn't think Ron could hear the words over the wind and rain, but his friend did look up at him, nod fiercely, and turn back to defending the goal posts with renewed determination.

It was a fast-paced game, with both teams trading possession of the Quaffle and scoring with rapid frequency. All the Chasers zoomed back and forth across the field so quickly that it was difficult for poor Zacharias Smith to keep up, and both Ron and the Slytherin Keeper also made some breath-taking saves.

Marcela Brown almost took Slytherin into the lead at one point, taking quick aim at the tallest Gryffindor goal while Ron was hovering near the middle post. The red-haired boy shot towards the higher goal at breakneck speed while Slytherins and Gryffindors alike screamed with excitement. Goyle hit a Bludger directly at him, but Ron jerked to the side and it struck the broom handle instead of Ron himself. Momentum twisted the broom into a somersault, but Ron clung to it like a burr and somehow when he came right-side-up again, he had managed to catch the red Quaffle in his left hand.

The Beaters were busy as well, zipping here and there as they protected their teammates from flying Bludgers, and above it all, Harry and Alec criss-crossed the field, searching desperately for the Snitch.

The small golden ball was difficult to see under the best of circumstances and in this weather it was near impossible. The rain fell harder and the wind grew stronger. He was soaked to the bone, but Harry barely noticed he was so focused on hunting for the Snitch.

Finally he thought he spied a suspicious glitter against the heavy dark storm clouds. Alec was nearer to it, but the younger boy didn't seem to have spotted the Snitch yet. Harry eyed the distance between the Snitch, himself, and Alec. It would be close, but the Firebolt was by far the faster broom and Harry thought he could make it. He leaned close over the handle and took off.

Alec had become distracted for a moment, watching as Hugh Warrington scored a goal below them. His cheer abruptly died in his throat as Harry flew by him and then he was off in hot pursuit. The crowd screeched so loudly that it hurt Harry's ears even from a distance. He didn't know how the kids in the stands weren't deafened.

But there was no time to worry about that. He was closing in on the Snitch. Behind him, Alec was trying valiantly to catch up, but he had let Harry take the lead and had no chance of over-taking his rival. But then the Snitch reversed direction and dropped both down and backwards with surprising speed.

It was closer to Alec now, but Harry had spent a lot of time over the past month practicing the Wronski Feint. He shifted his weight...just barely, and lightly touched the broom's handle to guide it. The Firebolt fell, spinning as it descended. Harry's stomach dropped with it, but he was used to the sensation by now and was able to stay in control and concentrate on the Snitch. He stretched out his hand; his fingers closed over the tiny winged ball. He shot past Alec and glided down through the rain to the ground.

Madam Hooch's whistle cut through the noisy uproar and Zacharias Smith bellowed through his megaphone, "And Gryffindor wins!"

Alec landed close beside Harry. He looked disappointed, but he smiled and said, "Congratulations! You were amazing, Harry."

"You were pretty awesome yourself," Harry told him.

Alec shook his head and pushed rain-slicked hair back from his face. "I let myself get distracted. Warrington's gonna eat me alive. But you won fair and square. That last move was fantastic. It was a Wronski Feint, wasn't it?"

Harry nodded, but before he could speak his teammates landed beside him and engulfed him in a great group hug, cheering and thumping him on the back.

"Brilliant, mate! That was bloody brilliant!" Ron almost flattened Harry in his excitement.

"What about you? That save was incredible. You better not ever put yourself down again," Harry laughed with delight.

He peered around to watch as the Slytherins gathered around Alec. He was a little concerned, wondering if they would be angry with the boy for losing the match, but though Crabbe and Goyle stomped off to the locker rooms, scowling, the rest of the team seemed supportive. Even Warrington gave Alec a light slap on the back and said something that made the young Seeker grin up at him.

Well, that was good. And though Crabbe and Goyle had made a couple of questionable moves, as far as Harry had been able to tell the rest of the Slytherins had played fair. Maybe things could start to be a little better between the Houses...maybe.

His hopes rose when Warrington stepped over to Katie Bell. The two Captains eyed one another uncertainly, but then Warrington held out his hand. Katie hesitated, but finally shook it. She and Warrington nodded stiffly to one another and then the Slytherin headed back to his own team.

Then the rest of Gryffindor House was there, along with some of the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. Students spilled from the stands and nimbly splashed through puddles as they hurried to celebrate or commiserate with the Quidditch players. Hermione was there, and Neville, and Luna. Harry was caught up in the enthusiastic joyful mob until there was a sudden silence. The happy chatter died and the crowd abruptly parted as a tall lean figure strode through, his black robes billowing. Severus' face was pale and set. His dark eyes blazed with contained fury.

Harry's stomach dropped, just as it had when he'd been performing the Wronski Feint, but this time it wasn't a pleasant feeling at all.

Severus swept up to Harry and stopped.

Father and son stared at one another in silence.

"Home. Now," Severus spoke finally, in a voice that was low and controlled, but thrummed with anger.

Harry didn't dare oppose him. He nodded silently and started for the castle, anxiously gripping the handle of his Firebolt. Severus strode along beside him, his jaw tight and his lips set in a thin line, the wind lifting strands of his black hair from the collar of his sodden cloak. They quickly left the crowd of silent, curious students behind them and headed up the hill towards Hogwarts, its stone towers and spires a dark outline against the grey sky.

They did not speak until they were back in their rooms. Harry kept glancing nervously at his father's stern profile, but Severus stared straight ahead as he swept along. Only when they were in their parlour and he had closed the door to the outside corridor...with a soft click that somehow seemed more ominous than if he had slammed it...did Severus speak.

"Explain," he said, his voice still very careful and precise as if that were the only way he could control his temper.

Harry swallowed. Somehow his reasons had seemed so much more plausible inside his head than now when he was faced with this moment.

"Um, well, you didn't actually say I couldn't play and I thought..." Harry began.

"You thought what? That I was only offering a suggestion? Don't insult my intelligence or yours by pretending that, Harry! You knew perfectly well that I did not want you to play in that match today and you deliberately chose to disobey me. You snuck off early this morning to avoid me and to prevent my keeping you at home, and even worse, you lied to me by leaving that note," Severus snapped.

"I didn't lie in the note," Harry made one more effort at self-justification. "I said I wasn't going to watch the match, and I didn't."

Severus stared at him in silence for a long moment. "Are you seriously telling me that you did not intend that note to be misleading?"

Harry started to say something, then abruptly stopped. It was suddenly hard to meet his father's gaze and he bowed his head. "Yes, sir, I did...mean it to be misleading," he mumbled.

"So you admit that you were dishonest and disobedient?" Severus asked coldly.

There was a cold lump in Harry's stomach and he found it difficult to speak. His father was right. He had been dishonest and disobedient, and there just didn't seem to be any excuse for it. Not as good as Severus had been to him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"So am I," Severus continued, still speaking in a voice like ice. "I thought you were more mature than that. I thought I could trust you."

He paused and when he spoke again, his voice was different, still cool, but also heavy with disappointment. "But I was wrong."

Those words were a knife in Harry's heart. He wanted to protest, to tell Severus that he was trustworthy...but how could he with the pain and disappointment of his betrayal lying there between them? His eyes filled with tears and he stared at the floor through blurred vision.

"I am too upset to discuss this any further right now," Severus finally told him. "Go to your room and stay there."

Harry nodded, feeling as if he would burst into tears if he tried to speak. He turned away and headed for his room, but then Severus spoke again.

"Take a warm shower and put on dry clothes first."

Harry nodded again and shuffled off to his bathroom, his head bowed and guilt tearing at him remorselessly. He stood under the hot water for a long time, wondering how he could have ever been so blatantly disobedient. Truly, he had never meant to hurt and disappoint his father. He had just wanted to play so badly and he had tried to convince himself that it would be all right, that he wasn't really disobeying.

But he had known better deep inside, hadn't he? He just hadn't wanted to admit it. And now he had been stupid and he'd ruined everything.

Oh, Severus didn't actually hate him...Harry didn't think. But he was angry and hurt and disappointed. Worst of all, he didn't trust Harry anymore, and with good reason.

That was the worst part...that he had betrayed his father's trust and now he didn't know how to make it right again. What if he couldn't? What if Severus never trusted him again?

A sob rose in Harry's throat and tears mingled with the water droplets running down his face as he cried. But finally he couldn't cry any longer and he turned the shower off, toweled himself dry and then wrapped the towel around his waist. He slipped his glasses back on and cast a drying charm on his soaking Quidditch uniform before placing it in the hamper. Then he went to his room and dressed in jeans and a black sweatshirt. It really was chilly and he pulled on socks and bedroom slippers too.

Then he sat on his bed and stared dully out the enchanted window at the dark clouds rolling by in the sky and the rain drops that slipped down the glass. After a while, through his guilt and shame, he became aware that he didn't feel good...physically as well as emotionally. Despite the warm fleecy sweatshirt, he was shivering with cold and his throat was sore. Severus had been right after all. He probably would get sick again from playing in the nasty weather.

But the physical discomfort was nothing compared to the pain inside, the pain of knowing that he had let his father down.

Harry looked over at the closed door, wondering what Severus was doing and if he would come to talk with him. He wanted to see his father desperately, to apologize again and to try to make things right between them. Even if he didn't know exactly how to accomplish it, he wanted Severus to come, to talk, to try to work it out. He would accept any punishment his father chose to give, if Severus would just forgive him.

But Severus didn't come.

Maybe Harry should go to him...but no. Severus had said for him to stay in his room, and Harry was determined that he would obey this time. Every time, from now on. He would never disobey Severus or cause him any trouble again, and maybe, someday, his father would trust him again.

The afternoon crept by endlessly. In spite of his resolve, Harry was tempted several more times to try to find his father. He just hated having this between them, not being able to talk with Severus. He hated knowing that Severus was so angry that he didn't even want to see him or talk with him. In a way, it was almost like being back with the Dursleys, when his aunt or uncle had shoved him into the cupboard under the stairs for hours at a time to keep him out of sight.

Finally just before dinner, Severus came in. He didn't knock this time, but simply opened the door and strode in. He stopped a little ways from the bed and said coolly, "I have been thinking about what might constitute a suitable punishment for your behaviour today. First of all, you will not play in the next Quidditch match. Secondly, you are grounded until further notice. You will stay at home on the weekends. During the week you may eat breakfast and lunch in the Great Hall with your friends, but after class you are to come directly down to our rooms and stay here. Your friends are not permitted to visit until your punishment is over."

Severus paused, his face grim. "Furthermore, after your deliberate deceitfulness today, I do not believe I can trust you with certain items. Please give me your Firebolt, invisibility cloak, and that map of the school."

Harry gave him a stricken look, but without a word he got up from his bed and went to his trunk to get the cloak and the map. He realized he had left the Firebolt in his bathroom and fetched it as well. Biting his lip to hold back tears he silently handed them to his father.

"You will eat your dinner in here tonight." Severus turned to leave. At the door, he said, perhaps a trifle more gently. "I will return your belongings when I can trust you again."

"Severus," Harry said in a choked whisper. "I'm really sorry."

His father only nodded curtly and then he was gone, closing the door quietly behind him.

Harry swallowed hard, wincing as his sore throat protested. He felt so horrible, worse than he had in a long time, both physically and emotionally. He threw back the covers on his bed and crawled under them, his body wracked by tremors and his throat aching fiercely.

Harry wondered briefly if perhaps he should go to Severus and tell him how poorly he felt, but he just couldn't. He had disregarded Severus' wishes and flown in the cold rain and it served him right if he got sick again. He couldn't go whinging about like a baby over something that was his own fault. Severus might even think he deserved to be ill and to feel bad.

Well, no, he probably wouldn't think that. But Harry did. Severus was already so angry and upset with him, and rightfully so. Severus obviously didn't want to be around Harry or to have anything to do with him for now. He didn't even want to eat dinner with Harry.

And although knowing that his father didn't want to be around him hurt more than anything ever had before, Harry had to respect that and not bother him, especially not for something that served him right. Being ill would just be another part of his punishment. Harry wasn't going to complain about it.

A short while later a bowl of soup, a plate of sandwiches, and a glass of juice appeared on Harry's desk, but he wasn't at all hungry. The juice was tempting. He was thirsty and the cool liquid would feel good sliding his throat, but at the same time, Harry just didn't think he had the energy to drag himself out of bed to get it. He didn't have his wand close by so he couldn't summon it either. Anyway, he felt so weak and shaky that he didn't know if he had the strength to call the glass to him.

Well, he would just go to sleep and try to forget this terrible day. He didn't even feel like changing into pyjamas. Harry laid his spectacles on the table beside the bed and closed his eyes. He ignored his aching throat, and burrowed down under the blankets, in a vain attempt to get warm. He didn't think he would ever be able to sleep, but finally, after a long while, he managed to drift away into unconsciousness.

***

Harry woke in the middle of the night. He was shaking with chills and his throat burned so badly he couldn't bear to swallow. He began coughing, which made his throat hurt even worse. Once again, he thought about going to Severus, but once again he dismissed the idea. This was part of his punishment. He had brought it all on himself and he wasn't going to disturb his father in the middle of the night complaining and acting like a spoiled brat. Maybe if he still felt poorly, he'd tell Severus in the morning, unless his father noticed on his own.

But Severus hadn't noticed that he felt badly earlier in the evening, had he? And that wasn't like him. He was usually so concerned about Harry's welfare.

Or maybe he had noticed and he really didn't care anymore.

But that thought was unbearable and Harry pushed it away. He closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep, but sleep wouldn't come. He just felt too awful. Harry pulled his blankets tightly about himself and lay there, shivering and coughing.

By the time morning finally came, Harry was utterly miserable. He didn't feel like leaving his bed for breakfast and he wasn't at all hungry. But he was terribly thirsty and though he was still determined not to whinge to his father, he couldn't help but hope that Severus would notice that he was ill and would offer him a potion anyway, even if Harry was being punished.

He lay in bed for a little while. He really did hate to have to get up and he hoped that maybe Severus would come to check on him if he didn't show up for breakfast. After all, his father had said that he only had to eat dinner in his room and they usually ate together if they weren't dining in the Great Hall.

But Severus didn't come.

He must still be furious with him, Harry thought with a mixture of sorrow and shame. Reluctantly he dragged himself up and made his way out to the living area on shaky legs.

There was a single plate of eggs and bacon and another glass of juice sitting on the table in the dining alcove and a note rested beside it. It reminded Harry of the note he had left early yesterday morning and for the thousandth time he wished he could go back and change it all. If he could, he would have never disobeyed his father.

He glanced at the letter and his heart sank when he read it.

H.

I will be working in my office today. Remember you are to stay at home. I have already informed your friends that you are not allowed any visitors for the time being.

S.

It was a cold impersonal note and it hurt Harry just to read it. He could imagine Severus' voice, cool and aloof and distant, saying the words. He sighed, set the letter aside, and drank the juice. The eggs and bacon were not at all appealing. In fact, the smell made him feel vaguely nauseous.

Harry slowly crept back to his room and climbed back into bed.

It was late in the afternoon when Severus returned to their quarters. He had spent most of the day researching the effects of flaxseed on memory potions, or attempting to anyway. Normally he would be relaxed and content after having a day to indulge in brewing, but not today. Today he was still so upset with Harry that he hadn't even been able to stay focused on his work. He had kept making the most ridiculous mistakes, measuring the wrong amount of ingredients or losing count of the strokes while he was stirring.

Finally he had given up, placed a stasis spell over his cauldrons hoping that perhaps he could salvage something of his potions later, and had returned home.

Severus looked at Harry's closed door and ran a hand through his hair. Perhaps he should go and talk with his son. He had avoided Harry earlier. He had lost his temper with Harry before, back at Prince Hall over the summer, and it had led to disaster. Severus had not wanted to risk saying or doing something that he would regret later.

But now that some time had passed Severus could admit that he was really more hurt than angry. He had trusted Harry and Harry had flagrantly disobeyed him.

Still Severus had calmed down enough to acknowledge to himself that Harry was not the first teenager to disobey a parent; nor would he be the last. Severus was still very displeased, but he hated having discord between them. Perhaps it was time to talk with Harry again.

He started for his son's room and then stopped as he noticed the dining table. The breakfast plate he had ordered for Harry still sat there, untouched, as was another plate of shepherd's pie that the house elves must have sent for lunch.

For just a second, Severus felt a rush of fury. If that boy had had the nerve to sneak off again...

But no, he truly didn't think Harry would do that. Why hadn't the boy eaten anything that day then? Was he that unhappy? Well, yes, he probably was. Harry was a good boy and that act of willful disobedience really wasn't like him. Most likely he was very upset, too. Yes, they needed to talk.

Severus went to his son's door and knocked on it. "Harry, may I come in?"

Harry didn't answer, but there was some kind of faint noise and then more disturbingly, the sound of violent coughing. Severus shoved the door open and hurried in.

Harry lay on the bed, under a jumbled pile of covers. He wasn't sleeping though. His green eyes were open and dulled with pain. He was burning with fever too; Severus discovered when he laid his hand on his son's forehead.

The coughing fit ended and Harry managed to say, "Sev'rus, can't breathe good."

And now that Harry wasn't coughing, Severus could hear a frightening wheezing sound with every breath. He didn't waste any time but scooped Harry up into his arms and hurried to the fireplace to Floo to the infirmary.

In a matter of minutes Poppy had Harry settled into bed and was running through diagnostic spells while Severus watched, feeling cold with fear and remorse.

How had he not seen this? His primary reason for forbidding Harry to fly in the match had been a fear that he would become ill. Yet Severus hadn't even checked to see if Harry were well through the night or the day. He had been so angry and hurt over the disobedience that he had completely forgotten the possibility that the child might grow sick.

How could he have done that? He was the adult...Harry's father, though he didn't deserve to be. Why was it that no matter how good his intentions were, he always failed Harry at the times his son needed him most?

"Well, you have pneumonia, but it's in the early stages so that's good. The infection hasn't grown too severe yet." Poppy finished her diagnosis and summoned some vials of potions. "Harry, I need you to take these. One will fight the pneumonia and the other is a fever reducer mixed with a sedative. It will help you to sleep and not cough as much."

But Harry shook his head and his eyes turned to Severus anxiously. "Don't want...sleep. Need to...talk, " he wheezed.

Severus was at his side in a heartbeat. He knelt beside the bed and took Harry's hand in his own. "Shh," he said gently. "It's all right, child. We'll talk later. Take the potions now."

Tears leaked from the corners of Harry's eyes. "Sorry, Severus. ‘M so sorry."

"I know. I'm sorry, too." Tears filled Severus' own eyes, for the first time in years if he had stopped to realize that. "But it's going to be all right, Harry. We're going to be all right."

"Forgive...me?" Harry whispered painfully.

"Of course, if you'll forgive me too." Severus lightly squeezed his fingers.

Harry still looked anxious. "Really? You really...forgive...me?"

Severus felt his heart shatter inside. He leaned over to kiss Harry's forehead and then looked into his eyes as he spoke in a raspy voice. "Yes, child. I forgive you. I love you. Now take the potions so you can begin to heal."

Harry gave a tiny nod. Poppy had moved away to give them a little privacy but now she came close again and held the vials to Harry's lips. Almost at once his eyes closed. Severus and Poppy watched intently until gradually Harry's breathing eased. Severus was reminded again of the time in the summer when Harry's lungs had been damaged so badly, but thankfully he seemed better now.

Still, Severus was worried and once Harry was asleep he turned to Poppy, his eyes burning with questions he was afraid to ask.

"He'll be all right," Poppy reassured him softly. She was running her wand over Harry's chest again and looking relieved. "The potions are working. He'll be completely recovered in a few days."

She put her wand away and looked at Severus somberly. "It's a good thing you caught this when you did, though. If the pneumonia had been worse, I would have had to send him on to St. Mungo's. It would have taken him much longer to recover."

Severus swallowed, feeling his guilt swamp him again. He shook his head. "I should have caught it yesterday." He looked at Poppy bleakly. "I'm a terrible father."

She put her hand on his arm. "I don't know exactly what you're talking about, Severus, but you are a very good father."

Severus shook his head again. "I'm not. He deserves better than me."

"Severus, I'm sure you've made mistakes, because you're not perfect. None of us are perfect. But you love Harry and you are an excellent father," Poppy replied more firmly this time. "Now, Harry needs to stay here overnight, but I'll put up some privacy screens for your sake since I know you'll be staying with him."

Severus nodded and helped her conjure the opaque white screens around Harry's bed. Then Poppy left, saying quietly that she would come back to check on Harry in a little while.

Severus didn't hesitate. He slipped into the bed and gathered Harry close, cradling him to his chest. When his son woke again, Severus wanted to be right there, holding him, making sure that Harry knew he was loved.

His hand cupped the back of Harry's head, his fingers caressing the unruly dark hair. Harry was already asleep, but even so, as night fell, Severus began to sing, softly murmuring the words to an old lullaby as he held his son close to his heart.

Harry began wheezing and coughing again shortly before midnight. Severus had been dozing lightly but he woke at once. Harry still lay in his arms, with his head on Severus' chest. Severus carefully eased the child over, sat up and reached for his wand. He sent his Patronus to summon Poppy, and then gently stroked Harry's hair and studied his son's face anxiously. A few minutes later Harry's eyes opened.

"Sev'rus?" He managed a weak whisper.

"Shh, rest easy, son. Poppy will be here any minute and she'll give you some more medicine," Severus tried to sooth him while wondering crossly what in blazes was taking Poppy so long. If he had checked the time Severus would have noticed that it had only been a couple of minutes, but with Harry struggling for breath, every second seemed to last an eternity.

Severus could not bear to remember how the boy had been alone and ill all through the day. That thought hurt him like a physical pain, reminding him of how he had failed Harry again. He sat on the side of the bed but leaned close over his son, holding his hand and thinking that Poppy had better come soon or else he was going to snatch Harry up and head to St. Mungo's.

Fortunately, just then there was the sound of flames roaring in the fireplace and an instant later the medi-witch slipped through the screens surrounding Harry's bed. She was still pulling a yellow robe over a long white nightgown and her dark hair hung loose down her back.

"Here we go, dear." Poppy held a vial to Harry's lips while he swallowed, then cast a dim Lumos spell. She knotted the belt of her dressing gown more securely, and both she and Severus kept their eyes trained on Harry for several long minutes until finally his breathing eased again.

Harry's tense face relaxed slightly. "Thanks, Madame Pomfrey."

Poppy checked him over, holding her wand above his chest while running through spells, and nodded. "You're recovering. It's just going to take a little time. But you're responding well to treatment and this dose should last you through til morning. How do you feel now, Harry?"

"Better," Harry reassured them.

"Do you think you can sleep again now?" Poppy asked.

"Yes, ma'am."

"All right then. I'll leave you two to rest. And don't worry, Severus," she added. "Harry's doing as well as can be expected right now. He's not in danger. Try to sleep, the both of you and I'll see you in the morning. Call if you need anything." Poppy flicked her wand, noxing the light, and left them alone again.

Moonlight still spilled through the infirmary windows and Severus peered at his son closely. "Are you truly better?" Harry tended to downplay his own troubles and Severus needed to know that the boy was indeed recovering.

"Yes, I can breathe again now." Harry looked up at him uncertainly. It was hard to ask, but he had to know. Severus did have a tendency to hold grudges. Harry knew that better than anyone. Not that he could blame him if Severus were still angry. Harry knew he had really hurt his father by disobeying him and he felt horrible about it all. "Severus?"

"Yes?"

"You said you forgave me. Did you really mean it?" Harry whispered.

"Do you really have to ask? Of course I did."

Relief washed over Harry so strongly that tears came to his eyes.

Of course his father noticed. Severus brushed Harry's hair back from his forehead. "Shh, now, none of that," he said softly. "Everything will be all right, Harry."

Severus lay back down, half-sitting and half-reclining against the pillows propped against the headboard. He held out an arm and Harry snuggled close to him, resting his head on Severus' shoulder. His father's arm curled around him, holding him comfortingly.

"I owe you an apology as well," Severus admitted in a low voice. "I should have checked on you earlier. I should have realised that you were ill much sooner than I did. I'm sorry for leaving you alone for so long, Harry."

"That was the worst," Harry whispered. "Knowing that you didn't want to be around me anymore."

He stared down at the white bedcovers that came up to their waists. At some point during the night someone had transfigured his clothes into a pair of striped pyjamas. Severus was still in his black robes and Harry could see his chest rising slightly with each breath. Then Severus' hand moved and he lifted Harry's chin with his fingertips so that Harry had to look up into his eyes.

Severus was watching him intently, his expression soft and concerned. "Harry, I was very upset, but I never stopped loving you or caring for you. I will always love you. You know that, don't you?"

Harry nodded, but his father didn't look convinced.

"Harry, I see now that leaving you alone was a mistake, but it wasn't because I didn't love you. My feelings for you will never change. I promise you that." Severus sighed. "I was very angry, though, and I was afraid that in the heat of the moment, I might say something that I would regret later. I didn't want to lose my temper...as I did back at Prince Hall early in the summer. I thought it would be better if we were apart until I had calmed down."

He closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them again, they were filled with pain. "But I was wrong. I hurt you even more by staying away. It seems that I always end up failing you, Harry."

Harry shook his head. "You didn't fail me, Severus. It was all my own fault. And I'm not angry with you about what happened at Prince Hall. I forgave you a long time ago. You don't have to feel bad about it anymore."

"I will always feel badly about it." Severus' voice was gruff from the effort of holding back his emotions. "But thank you, son, for forgiving me. That helps."

Harry nodded. "Yeah. And you shouldn't feel guilty about me being sick now, either, Severus. I shouldn't have played, just like you said."

"I know you well enough by now to know that it isn't like you to deliberately disobey." Severus studied him. "It was only one match, Harry. And playing against Slytherin had nothing to do with it. I was only concerned for your welfare."

"I know," Harry whispered. He ducked his head in shame and repeated. "I'm sorry, Severus."

"You have already apologised." Severus laid his hand against Harry's cheek for a moment. "I just don't understand why one Quidditch game was so important that you would disobey me over it."

Harry started to speak, then stopped and looked away, wondering how he could explain how important Quidditch was to him and how he felt about himself.

"It's late. We can discuss it in the morning if you'd rather," Severus said.

But Harry shook his head. "No, it's all right. I want to tell you, but I'm just not sure I can explain."

"Just tell me what you were thinking, what you were feeling," Severus suggested.

Still, Harry hesitated. "I don't want you to think that I'm...I don't know, trying to play on your sympathy or something."

"Just tell me," Severus said softly.

Harry took a deep breath. "Quidditch is the only thing I'm good at. I remember back in first-year, when McGonagall told me that I was going to be Gryffindor's Seeker, I was excited, but really I was just terrified. I thought that it was all some kind of mistake, that catching Neville's remembrall was a fluke and I wouldn't be any good in a real game. I was so scared before that first match that I was almost sick. I'd never, ever played in any kind of sport before. I mean, the Dursleys sure never let me join anything, and even the other kids in the neighborhood would never let me play with them. I guess they were all afraid that Dudley's gang would turn on them if they tried to be friends with me."

"So I was afraid that I'd be really bad at Quidditch and that people here would be angry or would laugh at me, too," Harry went on. "But then...I was good at it," he said, a note of wonder creeping into his voice at the memory. "And everyone clapped and cheered...for me. I couldn't believe it. Nothing like that had ever happened to me before."

He was quiet for a second. "It was wonderful. And well, ever since then, Quidditch has been something that helped me through all the bad times. You know, like in second-year when people thought I was the Heir of Slytherin and were afraid of me. And in fourth-year when everyone hated me for being in the Tournament, like I wanted it. That was one of the things that made last year so hard, too, when Umbridge kept me from playing and it wasn't even my fault."

"All the times when everyone is angry and no one likes me...well, except for a few people like Ron and Mione...Quidditch helps me get through those times. People forget all the bad stuff and they like me when I play Quidditch."

Severus cleared his throat and once again cupped Harry's chin in his hand, lifting it so Harry would meet his gaze. "Harry, you have a great many friends who like you for yourself: Ron and Hermione, the entire Weasley family, and though Neville Longbottom rather annoys me, I must admit that he is loyal and true to you. And I hope you know by now how much I love you. You're not alone anymore, Harry. When difficult times come, you have all of us to help you through it."

Harry tried to smile at him. "I know, and I know it's crazy to let Quidditch mean so much to me, but..."

"But it does," Severus finished.

"It's the only thing I'm good at," Harry repeated.

"Harry, that is simply not true," Severus said firmly. "You're doing very well in your classes..."

"Not for long," Harry interrupted. "I can't do any nonverbal magic and lots of the other kids can now. The professors are going to start marking me down soon."

"No one is going to mark you down simply because you can't do nonverbal magic," Severus told him. "Not all wizards are able to. It's taught because it can be an advantage, but truthfully, in everyday life, nonverbal magic is not a crucial skill."

"It is for an Auror," Harry pointed out.

Severus sighed and was silent a moment before saying quietly. "We'll speak with Albus again and see if he has learned anymore about the slavery spell. Perhaps he will have some new idea that might help."

But Harry doubted it and his father didn't sound very hopeful either. The slavery spell was also part of why Quidditch meant so much to him. Harry hated talking about it, but he supposed Severus deserved to understand that part, too.

He bit his lip. "Severus, I know you keep telling me that the slavery spell doesn't change who I am, and maybe you're right. But...I feel like it does."

Tears blurred Harry's vision and his words came slowly, painfully. "I don't want to whinge on about it all the time, but it's always there, Severus, in the back of my mind. I'm not as good as everyone else. I never have been and now, more than ever, I'm just...worthless."

"Harry," Severus whispered, his face aghast.

Harry shook his head and continued. "But when I fly, it helps. It makes me feel free again, just for a little bit. It helps me feel a little better about myself." A tear rolled down his cheek and he brushed it away. "And that's why I wanted to play so much."

"You really don't have any idea how much we all love you, do you?" Severus said in a pained voice. He held Harry close to him, wrapping his arms tightly around him.

It was too much for Harry and he buried his face against his father's shoulder, quietly weeping. Severus hugged him, one hand coming up to cradle the back of Harry's head.

"I love you with all my heart," Severus said softly. "You are everything to me, Harry. I would die for you. I believe Ron and Hermione would as well. So how can you think you're worthless, when you have at least three people who would give their lives for you? Do you remember when we talked at home this summer, right after you tried to kill yourself? We talked about how kind-hearted and courageous you are. We talked about how hard it was for me to admit that I'd been wrong about you all those years, how hard it was for me to acknowledge that I had mistreated you. Remember that, Harry?"

Harry nodded without lifting his head from the solid warmth of his father's shoulder.

"Well, then, do you remember what I told you next? About how you were so generous and compassionate that I finally had to acknowledge it. Harry, you are a wonderful person." Severus kissed the top of his head. "I hope that one day you can believe that."

Harry cried for a while before growing quiet. Severus thought he had fallen asleep, but then he turned his head slightly and spoke.

"Thank you, Severus. I think you're wonderful, too."

Severus went absolutely still. Harry raised his head and saw that his father looked stunned.

Severus finally shook his head. "I'm not..." he began.

"Yes, you are," Harry told him softly. He laid his head back down with a small, weary sigh.

"Good night, Dad."

***

Severus lay awake in the darkness after Harry had fallen asleep, wondering if he had really heard his son correctly or if he had just imagined it. Had Harry really told him that he was wonderful? No one had ever said such a thing to Severus before, and he was shocked at how touched he was. He was a grown man, an adult. He shouldn't be so moved. He shouldn't crave affirmation so deeply.

But Harry's simple declaration meant everything to him.

And had Harry really called him ‘Dad'?

Severus had never in his wildest dreams hoped for that. Oh, yes, they were father and son, without a doubt. But Harry had seemed perfectly content to call Severus by name and Severus had been satisfied with that. After all, it would have been selfish to hope for more. Just having Harry in his life at all was a precious gift.

But Harry had called him ‘Dad' and Severus had been overwhelmed by the rush of emotions that had flooded through him. He was grateful that Harry had gone back to sleep because he didn't think he could have responded without breaking down into tears.

It was a long while before Severus was able to sleep.

***

Harry slept peacefully through the rest of the night and the infirmary was bright with sunlight when he opened his eyes in the morning. Squinting, he automatically reached for his glasses.

Severus was sitting in a chair beside bed and handed the spectacles to him. "Here. How do you feel?"

"A lot better, thanks." Harry felt a little embarrassed after all the emotional confessions of the night before, but then again, it was his father, he told himself. It was all right. They loved one another.

They both started to speak at the same moment and then stopped.

"Go ahead," Severus offered.

"I wanted to ask you something," Harry said hesitantly.

Severus nodded encouragingly.

"Last night you called me ‘son'," Harry began.

Severus waited, but Harry just bit his lip and stared down at his clasped hands.

"Well, you are my son, aren't you?" Severus prodded gently.

Harry quickly nodded. "Yeah, of course, and well, I wanted to ask...is it all right then if I call you ‘Dad'?"

Severus didn't answer right at once and for a second Harry was nervous. But then he leaned forward and took Harry's hands in his own, holding them gently. Harry looked up to see that Severus' dark eyes were bright and when he spoke, his voice was husky.

"I would be very honoured."

Some of Harry's sorrow and guilt lifted and he found himself smiling a little. "Thank you...Dad."

Severus' lips quirked upwards, too. "I should be the one thanking you. It means a great deal to me, Harry, that you want to acknowledge me as your father."

Harry was briefly reminded of how Severus had commented on how well he knew Harry last night, and he thought that it worked both ways. Severus was normally so reserved with most people. But he did let his emotions show with Harry, and he was so obviously moved that Harry wished he had asked to call him ‘Dad' sooner.

"Well, we are a family, right?" He asked.

"Yes, indeed, and we have been for some time," Severus agreed. Then it was his turn to hesitate. "Are you certain you're not conflicted, though? I know how much you have always longed for your real parents."

"You are my real father. I have two real fathers," Harry said firmly. "One of them is dead and he can't be with me. But I think that he and my mum would want me to have a parent here, too, and I think it would be all right with them for me to call you ‘Dad'."

Severus squeezed Harry's hands lightly. "Thank you, Harry."

They were quiet for a few minutes and then Severus looked up and said more briskly. "I have something to say to you, too."

Harry nodded. "Okay."

Severus' voice softened. "Firstly, I wish that we had talked earlier about Quidditch, about what it means to you. I wish I had known before Saturday's match."

"Would you have let me play?" Harry wanted to know.

Severus looked at him steadily. "I could never allow you to risk your health, Harry. But if I had understood that it meant so much to you, I could have tried to help you more, and perhaps we could have arranged some type of compromise like having the match postponed."

"They wouldn't postpone the match just for me," Harry protested.

"We could have spoken to Albus and he might well have agreed. He certainly owes you that much," Severus replied. "It's a moot point now, but please, Harry, in the future, talk with me. I am very observant about many things, but I still have a great deal to learn about emotions. Sometimes I may need you to help me understand. All right?"

"All right."

"Secondly, I was very upset on Saturday. Despite my efforts to control my temper, I have realised that I did say something that I regret." Severus leaned over to retrieve some items from the floor.

He laid them on the bed next to Harry. "I do trust you."

Harry stared down at the Firebolt, the invisibility cloak, and the rolled up parchment that was the Marauders' Map. Then he looked up and gave his father a wobbly smile.

"Thanks, Dad. I'll be careful about how I use them, I promise."

"I know you will." Severus gave his hands one more squeeze before letting go. "Now, are you hungry? Shall I order some breakfast?"

They were eating poached eggs and ham croissants when Poppy came in and hurried over to Harry's bedside.

"How are you this morning, Mr. Potter?"

It was kind of funny, Harry thought, how she called him by his first name when he was ill or when she was worried, and then reverted back to his surname when he was better.

He smiled at her. "Much better now. When can I go home?"

"When the infection in your lungs has completely disappeared," Poppy said firmly. She gave him some more medicine and went through diagnostic spells. "Perhaps this evening. Now in the meantime, you are to stay in bed and rest."

Harry groaned, but he was still weaker than he had first realised and soon after breakfast he found his eyelids growing heavy.

"It's all right. Go ahead and sleep," Severus said. He moved the broomstick, cloak, and map from Harry's bed and scooted his chair closer.

Harry nodded as he slipped his spectacles off and handed them to his father. He lay down, curled on his side, and rested his head against the soft pillow. It was nice, he thought sleepily, just to be able to rest, and to be able to breathe easily again. Thank Merlin he hadn't had a bad case of pneumonia. It had been horrible to be so short of breath, no matter how he had struggled.

It was nice to have his father here, too. But wait...wasn't it Monday? Harry opened his eyes. "Dad? What about your classes?"

"I'm staying here until Poppy releases you." Severus patted his hand. "Rest now, Harry."

Ron and Hermione were there when Harry woke next, sitting on the foot of his bed, one on each side, in their school uniforms and black robes.

"Bout time," Ron remarked. "We've been waiting forever for you to wake up."

Harry goggled at them; then turned to where Severus was still sitting in his chair. "But I'm not supposed to see anyone. I'm grounded."

"Did you know that you looked like a fish when you did that?" Ron asked.

Hermione poked him. "Ron!"

"Well, he did," Ron pointed out.

Severus ignored them. "Yes, you are," he told Harry as he handed over his glasses. "But your friends heard that you are recovering from pneumonia and they have been concerned. They must have come up here to check on you a dozen times today."

He shot a look at Ron and Hermione and continued dryly. "I have no idea how they've managed to attend class between their frequent visits. However, as I am not responsible for teaching them today, I am not going to pursue that matter."

"I decided to allow your friends to visit with you briefly so they can see for themselves that you are all right." Severus stood and stepped to the white privacy screens around Harry's bed. He faced Ron and Hermione. "After this, you will have to stay away for the rest of the week."

He looked back at Harry. "Harry, today is Monday. You are on restriction until the weekend. If you are completely well, then you may go to Hogsmeade with your friends on Saturday."

Harry nodded. "Thanks, Dad."

"I will return in half an hour." Severus inclined his head to them and left.

Harry turned to his friends, expecting them to comment on him calling Severus ‘Dad', but neither of them seemed surprised. When Harry mentioned it, they gave him a non-plussed look.

"Well, he's been like your father for a while now, hasn't he?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, it's about time you started calling him ‘Dad'," Ron remarked. "I mean, I don't call my dad ‘Arthur'."

Hermione changed the subject. "Harry, I cannot believe you played Quidditch in the rain, after you'd been ill and after Professor Snape told you not to."

Harry grimaced at her. "Mione, please. I've had pneumonia and my dad has already been after me. I don't need you giving me a hard time, too."

Hermione sighed. "All right, then. But I still can't believe you did that. Now if it were Ron..."

"I did it because I hate being a slave and Quidditch makes me feel better," Harry burst out.

They both stared at him.

"Harry..." Hermione moved closer and took his hand, her brown eyes bright with tears.

"Shh!" Ron said sharply. He stood and went to peer out from the privacy screens before turning back to face them. He drew his wand and cast the Muffliato spell.

"Harry, you are lucky that no one else is in the infirmary right now." Ron shook his head as he came back to join Hermione in sitting on the bed. "All this time you've been so worried about people discovering the spell and then you just yell it out like that?"

The blood drained from Harry's face. He stared at Ron, his eyes huge. "I didn't even think," he whispered. "Are you sure no one's there?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah, no one else was here when Hermione and I came in and I didn't see anyone else now."

Harry let out a shaky breath. "Thank Merlin."

"What were you saying, about Quidditch helping you feel better?" Hermione asked after a moment.

So Harry told them most of what he'd explained to his father and when he'd finished, Hermione hugged him tightly and Ron grabbed his hand. They didn't say anything, but it was all right. Harry knew how they felt.

Then Severus came back and Ron and Hermione left, promising to see Harry later. Madame Pomfrey did let Harry go home that evening, though she told Severus to keep him home from classes for another day or two.

Harry had thought that the week would drag along, but it went by more quickly than he had expected. He had no more trouble breathing, but he did tire easily and ended up staying home from class all week. Severus arranged for his professors to send his assignments down to the dungeons and Harry studied intermittently throughout the day, stopping to rest when he grew tired.

Severus returned to teaching on Tuesday, but he came home right after his last class and spent the rest of the afternoon helping Harry catch up on his work or playing chess together. After dinner they read or played card games. It reminded Harry again of the summer at Prince Hall, and though he did miss seeing his friends, he actually enjoyed having time to spend just with his father.

By Friday Harry was stronger and Madame Pomfrey pronounced him well enough to participate in the Hogsmeade weekend. He woke early Saturday and dressed in a red jumper, jeans, and new black trainers that Severus had bought for him. Then he headed out to the parlour.

Early though it was, Severus had woken even earlier. He was dressed in his black robes, sitting at the table in the dining alcove and eating eggs, bacon, and toast.

"You aren't coming upstairs?" Harry asked him.

Severus shook his head. "No, as you're going off with your friends, I thought I might spend the morning brewing. I have some interesting experiments going on with flaxseed."

"Well, I guess I'll see you later then."

Severus nodded. "Have a good time, Harry, and be careful."

"Bye, Dad."

Harry Flooed up to a small chamber near the Great Hall. The portraits were all very busy chattering among themselves and they all stared as he passed by, which was a bit odd, Harry thought but he was in such a good mood that he didn't really pay any attention.

But then he stepped into the Great Hall and right away, he realised something was up. Normally everyone was still half-asleep on Saturday morning and the Hall was pretty quiet. But today it was filled with loud excited voices and people were scurrying around with copies of the Daily Prophet. At the staff table Professor McGonagall glanced down at her copy, then gasped aloud and turned pale. She leaned close to Dumbledore and pointed to an article on the front page.

Dumbledore stared at the newspaper and then stood, his face unusually grim. But before he could do anything else, the students noticed Harry. Everyone stopped talking and stared.

The abrupt silence only lasted a few seconds though before Colin Creevy jumped up from the Gryffindor table and raced towards Harry, waving a copy of the newspaper in his hand.

"Harry! Harry! The Prophet says that you're a slave! It's not true, is it?"

Harry could only stare at him, frozen.

This had to be a nightmare. Colin could not possibly have said those words. Any second now he would wake up and it would all disappear...the Great Hall filled with people staring at him in shocked disbelief, Dumbledore standing at the far end of the room with his uncharacteristically stormy expression, Colin Creevy beside him pointing to the front page of the Daily Prophet. Yes, any second now Harry would wake up and be safely in his bedroom down in the dungeons.

But he wasn't waking up.

Almost against his will, Harry found himself looking down at the paper that Colin kept waving in front of him.

HARRY POTTER ENSLAVED BY ANCIENT CURSE? screamed the headline. There was a huge photograph of him underneath, an old one from the Triwizard Tournament, though even Harry had to admit that his appearance hadn't changed since then, and then the article.

Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, freed the wizarding world from Voldemort's reign of terror, but he may not be free himself. An anonymous source has revealed that young Mr. Potter may be enslaved by a little-known ancient curse. It seems fantastic, but our source claims to have heard the news directly from Mr. Potter himself. It is believed that Professor Severus Snape, the Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, is also involved.

Harry could not bear to read any more. He dragged his gaze from the paper to find the dozens of students and professors still watching him, but now people were beginning to mutter among themselves.

A single voice called out, "Well, Potter, is it true?"

Harry had no idea how to answer. He wasn't even sure if he could still speak. He felt as if he had been turned to stone. But before anyone could say anything else, he felt gentle hands touch his shoulder, his arms.

Ron and Hermione were there.

"Let's get out of here," Ron said in a low voice.

They hurried him out of the Great Hall and through the entrance lobby, one of them on each side, past curious students who were coming to the Great Hall for breakfast, and into a side room with a fireplace. Hermione pulled a small pouch from her bag and tossed some Floo powder in the grate. A moment later they were stepping out into the parlour of the dungeon rooms, Ron and Hermione guiding Harry protectively.

Severus was still finishing his breakfast. He looked up at the interruption.

"Back again? Did you..." Severus broke off as he saw their expressions. He was at their side in an instant. "What is it?"

"Well, sir, I don't know how but..." Ron began.

"They know," Harry whispered. He began to shake, tremors racking his body as he repeated. "Everybody knows."

Severus looked at him intently, his black eyes boring into Harry's, and then comprehension dawned. "Impossible," he breathed.

He slid an arm around Harry's shoulders, pulling him close to his side and walked him over to the sofa. Ron and Hermione trailed behind them. They all sat, Harry and Severus on the sofa and the other two in nearby armchairs.

Harry was still shaking. Ever since he'd become a slave, he had felt as if he'd been cracked into millions of tiny pieces inside, but over the past few months he had begun to feel better, as if strong glue had bound the fragments of his soul together and was gradually erasing the cracks. But now, it was like that glue had suddenly vanished and he felt that he had splintered into those millions of slivers of hurt and shame again.

His father's arm was still about his shoulders, holding him close and Harry turned to bury his face against Severus' side. He couldn't hold back tears any longer and began to weep silently, his tears dampening his father's woolen robes. Severus' arm tightened around him.

"How?" Severus demanded, speaking to Ron and Hermione. His voice was rough, but they all knew he wasn't angry with them.

"I don't know, but Hermione and I were on our way down for breakfast when some other kids came running up to us with a copy of the Daily Prophet. There's an article on the front page about Harry being enslaved by an ancient curse. They asked us if it were true," Ron told him.

"What did you say?" Severus asked.

Ron shook his head. "Nothing. We ran past them and came down to try to find Harry before anyone else did."

Hermione explained next how they had come upon Harry at the entrance to the Great Hall and had brought him home before the situation there had exploded.

"We didn't know what else to do," she finished, watching Severus and Harry with a mixture of sorrow and uncertainty.

Severus only nodded at them. "You did well. Thank you for being there for Harry."

He looked down at his son. "Shh, Harry. Calm yourself. We will get through this." He wrapped his other arm around Harry, too, gently laying his hand on his son's head and carding his fingers through Harry's hair.

But Harry shook his head and repeated brokenly, "Everyone knows."

"We will get through this," Severus said again, more firmly. "You won't have to face it alone. You have me now, and Ron and Hermione of course."

"Ginny will stick with us, too, Harry," Ron spoke up. "And Neville and Luna. I bet lots of kids will."

Harry knew they were right, but even so, everyone would talk and stare and ask questions. And there were bound to be some people who would jeer and make fun. And it wouldn't be only at Hogwarts either. Everyone knew. For the rest of his life now, he would have to deal with people knowing that he was a slave.

He thought of having to go back out into the school, having to face the curious stares, having to listen to the whispers, and worse. Draco Malfoy and his cronies would have a ball, wouldn't they? Harry could imagine the snide mocking comments and the smug superior looks.

He had faced hostile crowds before, but Harry just didn't think he could face this.

He was a slave now.

He had always known that he wasn't as good as others, and despite what Severus said, he couldn't help but feel that the slavery spell made it even worse. He had been thinking about what his father had said last weekend in the infirmary, how he couldn't be worthless when there were people who would give their own lives for him, and it had helped. But that new confidence had been fragile and now it was gone. Just thinking of having to face Malfoy, knowing that he himself was a slave, was unbearable.

If he had ever had Gryffindor courage, Harry felt that it had vanished completely. He wanted to hide down here, where he was safe, and never have to face anyone else again, like an animal that crawled off to lick its wounds.

A memory flashed through Harry's mind of an earlier time when he and his father had discussed how they would handle things if the slavery spell became known.

"I want to go home." Harry pulled back slightly and raised his head to look up at Severus.

Hermione frowned and tilted her head. "But, Harry, you are..."

"I want to go to Prince Hall," Harry clarified.

Ron and Hermione both looked stricken.

"You would leave Hogwarts?" Ron asked.

Severus hesitated before speaking very gently. "Harry, don't you think that would be extreme? We don't know yet how people will react to the news. It's possible that..."

But Harry was simply not able to be reasonable, not about this.

"I want to go home! You promised, Dad. You promised we could if people found out." Harry hated himself for being such a cowardly baby, but he couldn't stop himself from breaking down into wild sobs. Severus pulled him back into a close embrace again and Harry buried his face into his father's chest, sobbing and repeating in choked intervals, "I want to go home. You promised."

Severus' hand curled around the back of Harry's neck, his fingers massaging the tense muscles.

He took a deep breath and nodded. "Very well, Harry. We will return to Prince Hall."

Harry caught his breath. "Really?"

"Yes. I will need to speak with Albus. We will have to make arrangements." Severus glanced over to Ron and Hermione, who were both visibly upset at the news. "You do not have to look so glum. I daresay Albus could be persuaded to allow Harry's friends to visit, providing your own parents agree, of course."

Harry slumped against his father, feeling weak with relief as the knowledge sunk in that they were going home, that he didn't have to face hostile, jeering classmates after all. Gradually his sobs diminished and he flushed with embarrassment as he realized how he had carried on so, but he was with his family. Surely they wouldn't judge him harshly.

He finally sat up, dragging his sleeve across his eyes. "When can we leave?"

Severus considered. "I shall have to speak with Albus, as I said, and we'll need to pack our personal belongings. But I imagine we could leave by evening."

As if on cue, the Floo came to life again and they all turned to see Dumbledore's head floating in the fireplace. He looked tired and unhappy, most un-Dumbledore-like, and his voice was heavy.

"Harry, I am so sorry. Severus, I assume you have heard the news. We need to talk, I think, though I realize this may be a bad time. Let me know when your earliest convenience is, if you don't mind."

"As a matter of fact, Albus, I think now would be a good time." Severus glanced down at Harry, who nodded silently.

"Very well, then. I'll come on through." Dumbledore's head disappeared. Green flames flared high and then the headmaster stepped into the parlour.

He came straight over to Harry and actually kneeled before him. "Harry, is there anything I can do to help you?"

Harry tried to smile at him, though he knew it would be obvious that he had been crying. His eyes felt swollen and he knew there would be tear tracks on his face. "I don't think so, sir."

Severus disagreed. "Actually, Albus, you might well be able to assist us. But first you need to know that Harry and I will be leaving for Prince Hall today."

Dumbledore nodded. "When will you return?"

"That will be up to Harry," Severus replied, raising a questioning eyebrow at his son.

Harry shook his head. "Never."

Dumbledore blinked and then said, "Harry, you can't run away from your troubles, and what about your education?"

Harry felt a bubble of panic well up in his chest. "I want to go home and I don't ever want to leave!" He turned to Severus with a wild desperate expression.

Severus reached for his hands, holding them firmly. "Harry, calm yourself. We are going home and no one will make you leave against your will. All right?"

Harry drew a shaky breath and slowly nodded, trying to regain the tenuous control he had over his emotions.

Dumbledore seemed a bit shaken himself, watching Harry with a troubled expression, but Severus gave him a fierce look, silently warning him not to press the matter, and said, "Albus, why don't you take a seat? We have a lot to discuss."

The headmaster drew himself together and said, "Of course."

"Perhaps Harry and his friends could begin packing up his belongings," Severus suggested, looking over to where Ron and Hermione had been sitting quietly.

The teens started to stand, but Dumbledore stopped them. "One moment, please, before you go, Harry. I had a question if you don't mind. The article says that this anonymous source who leaked the news heard about the spell directly from you. Now, I don't believe for one moment that any of your closest friends would do such a thing, so do you have any idea what that reference means?"

Harry sighed. "It's probably because I kind of blurted it out in the infirmary last weekend."

"What?" Severus and Dumbledore spoke together.

So he explained how he had spoken without thinking when he had been alone with his friends. "But Ron checked and didn't see anyone there so we didn't think anything else about it," Harry finished.

Dumbledore leaned closer to Harry, peering at him intently. "Harry, think carefully about the exact words you spoke. Did you mention that the slavery spell was an ancient curse?"

Harry shook his head. "No, sir. I just said that I hated being a slave and that playing Quidditch helped me feel better."

"Thank you, Harry. If you wish to go and pack now, you may. And Harry, I am very sorry. I know this situation is difficult for you, but remember that there are many people who care for you and want to help," Dumbledore told him.

"Thank you, sir," Harry mumbled. He shot an uncertain glance towards Ron and Hermione, thinking of how he had cried and pleaded in front of them and still feeling embarrassed about it. But Hermione came and wrapped her arm around his waist while Ron slung his arm about Harry's shoulders and they went off to his room together.

***

Severus watched them leave the room with concern. The only other time he had seen Harry so upset had been right after his suicide attempt, and Severus couldn't help but be deeply worried over how these new circumstances would affect him.

But he didn't really think Harry would do something like that again. Harry had promised not to. He knew that he was loved, that he didn't have to be alone anymore. Still, Severus made up his mind that he would discuss the issue with Harry that very evening and would keep a close watch over him.

Albus interrupted his thoughts.

"Severus," the headmaster said in a low voice. "Do you really believe that allowing Harry to hide at Prince Hall is the best way to handle things?"

Severus turned back to see Albus looking concerned as well. He sighed and admitted, "I don't know, Albus. But I did tell Harry once that we could return there if people ever found out about the slavery spell, and he was absolutely distraught earlier. It frightened me."

Severus hesitated before leaning close and speaking so quietly that Albus also had to lean forward to hear him.

"Albus, I'm not sure you really understand how painful this slavery spell is for Harry. He struggled with severe depression this summer. He even attempted suicide over it. Fortunately, I caught him in time and well, the fact that we learned to care for one another helped Harry through that. But he has been so worried about people discovering the spell. It's been a great fear. And now, today, he was so upset. I was afraid for him."

Albus had grown pale. He slowly shook his head. "You are right, Severus. I knew that Harry was hurting, especially in the beginning, but I didn't imagine him trying to hurt himself over it. Do you think he will attempt such a thing again?"

"I don't believe so," Severus said slowly. "But I am going to talk with Harry privately and I will be vigilant in caring for him. There is another reason I decided to take Harry home, and that is because we adults have failed him too often in the past. He needs to know that he can indeed depend on me to keep my word, to actually do something to help him."

"Yes, I can see that. I'm just concerned for the both of you, and I am not certain that running off to Prince Hall is going to be the best solution for Harry in the long run," Albus said.

"I am not certain either, Albus, but for right now that is the path we going to take." Severus sat up straight again. "I have not actually seen the article. Do you happen to have a copy?"

Albus pulled a newspaper from a pocket of his blue robes, handed it over, and waited in silence while Severus read. When he had finished, Severus allowed himself a rare slip of temper and swore as he tossed it onto a side table.

Then he looked at Albus. "Draco Malfoy."

"I believe so," the headmaster agreed. "If someone else had overheard Harry in the infirmary, that person would have known that he was a slave, but not that it was the result of a rare ancient curse. I believe Mr. Malfoy is the only one who would have realized that aspect of the situation."

Severus swore again. "Harry has just come out of that dark pit he was in all summer. If Draco Malfoy has pushed him back into it, I will not be responsible for my actions, Albus."

"Well, I was considering having you, and possibly Harry, present while I discussed the matter with Mr. Malfoy, but if you do not feel able to control your actions, perhaps it would not be wise," Albus remarked.

Severus turned to him, dark eyes glittering. "When?"

"There's no time like the present. In fact, Mr. Malfoy is waiting in my office as we speak," Albus replied.

Severus abruptly stood and swung around towards his son's room. "Harry?"

Harry and his friends came out. Harry seemed calmer, though still subdued. "Yes, Dad?"

Severus explained that he and Albus believed that Draco Malfoy had been the one to contact the paper and that Albus had suggested Harry might want to be present while they questioned him.

Harry looked doubtful. "Me?"

"At the very least, Mr. Malfoy owes you an apology," the headmaster explained. "And as much as he has hurt you, I believe you have a right to be present if you wish, Harry."

Harry looked at Severus. "Do you think I should be there?"

"That is your decision, Harry."

Harry turned to his friends. Hermione gave a small shrug, but Ron said, "I think you should go. Malfoy ought to have to get down on his knees and beg your forgiveness."

Harry sighed. "I don't know."

Albus stood up. "Perhaps a compromise. A small private sitting room adjoins my office, Harry. You could wait there while your father and I talk with Mr. Malfoy and if you wish to come out to my office at some point, then you may."

After a moment, Harry nodded. "All right."

They moved towards the fireplace when Hermione spoke. "Sir? What should Ron and I tell people? Everyone is going to ask us about that article."

Severus reached to rest his hand on Harry's shoulder. "I wish we could deny it, but I doubt that's a possibility at this point. If we say the article is untrue and Draco Malfoy provided Pensieved memories or spoke under veritiserum, then we're proven to be liars. I don't think we want that."

"So we should tell people the truth?" Ron asked.

They all looked at Harry, who finally nodded. "Yeah, I guess so." He tried to console himself with the knowledge that it didn't really matter what anyone else thought. He was going back to Prince Hall and wouldn't have to deal with the public anyway.

Ron and Hermione nodded and stepped close to Harry.

"Will we see you again before you leave?" Hermione asked.

Harry glanced at his father who nodded. "We will need to finish packing. Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, if you want to come back in a couple of hours, we should be here then."

The three teens hesitated and then hugged one another tightly.

"Thanks," Harry whispered to them.

Then one by one they Flooed away, Ron and Hermione returning to the Gryffindor common room while Harry, Severus, and Dumbledore went to the private sitting room by his office.

***

Dumbledore's sitting room was small, but warm and cozy, beautifully decorated in crimson and gold. But Harry paid no attention to his surroundings. He was too busy listening to the conversation in the next room where Dumbledore and Severus were questioning Draco Malfoy.

"I didn't speak to anyone. It wasn't me. You can't prove anything," the Slytherin boy tried to sound outraged, but even Harry could hear the guilt in his voice.

"Are you forgetting my skills as a Legilimens, Mr. Malfoy?" Severus inquired coldly.

"You have no right! It's illegal to use Legilimency on minors!" Draco's voice rose.

"It is also illegal to cast unknown spells on an innocent victim," Severus retorted. "But as a matter of fact, I have not used Legilimency on you. I can see that you're lying by the look on your face. I can hear it in your voice. You've always been a terrible liar, Mr. Malfoy."

There was a silence and then Draco blustered, "Well, even if I did speak to Skeeter, there's nothing you can do about that. It's not illegal to report what I heard. It's not even against Hogwarts' rules."

"You are correct, Mr. Malfoy. Though I find your deliberate cruelty reprehensible, you have done nothing illegal...this time," Dumbledore's voice was quiet, but cold. "However, as Professor Snape pointed out, casting the spell against Harry in the first place was illegal. And as his guardian, Professor Snape would be well within his rights to press criminal charges against you."

"Criminal charges? But..." Draco faltered, sounding much less certain of himself. "But you've already punished me for that. You've taken everything away!"

"We've scarcely taken anything from you, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore replied. "You have your home, your money, and most importantly, your freedom. You had a future filled with choices. Yes, you have lost some privileges at school, but we have treated this situation as a school matter...until now."

"We did so to protect Harry's secret from the public," Dumbledore continued. "But there is no longer any reason to worry about that, is there, Mr. Malfoy?"

"You foolish boy, did you not understand that in harming Harry, you also destroyed your own protection?" Severus chimed in.

There was a long silence.

Draco finally broke it by saying, "But I didn't know it was a slavery spell when I cast it."

"All the more reason you should never cast an unknown spell!" Severus' voice was controlled but forceful. "What if it had been fatal? What if it had been something similar to the cruciatus curse?"

Another silence before Draco repeated in an even smaller voice. "I didn't know."

"What would you have done if you had known?" Dumbledore asked. "Would you have still cast it against Harry? Would you have still enslaved him?"

"No, I...I don't think so," Draco answered.

"You don't know for certain?" Severus demanded.

At the same time Dumbledore said, "I would like to think that you would not knowingly have done such a terrible thing, Mr. Malfoy, but your recent actions have caused me to wonder. You may not have known that you were casting a slavery spell on Harry at the time, but once you found out the first thing you did was to hurt and humiliate him further."

"But he stole everything from me!" Draco burst out.

Harry expected him to go on about losing his Quidditch position or prefect status. He was surprised when Draco, presumably speaking to Severus, continued in a voice that was choked with emotion, "He stole you, Severus. You used to care about me, and now you won't even call me by my name. It's always ‘Mr. Malfoy' now, and you're always so angry with me, even when I didn't do anything. Oh, I know why now, but it didn't used to be like that. You used to hate Potter too. You used to ignore it when we fought. If anything, you were always on my side."

"Yeah, it was stupid of me to cast that spell against Potter, and I guess it was stupid to go to Skeeter about it, but I needed you, Severus, and you hate me. You hate me, and I needed you."

To Harry's shock, Draco broke down into sobs, making his next words hard to understand.

"My mother...she's...she's dead. She's dead! Death Eaters killed her, and I saw it! I saw them kill her."

Harry froze, staring in shock at the partially open door leading to Dumbledore's office. Death Eaters had murdered Narcissa Malfoy? What in the world...? Was Malfoy lying again?

But even though it didn't make sense, Harry had to admit that Draco's harsh, choked sobs seemed genuinely grief-stricken. He leaned forward in his chair, straining to hear more clearly. But neither Dumbledore nor Severus spoke. For many long minutes the only sound was Draco's weeping .

Finally a floor board creaked and there was the soft rustle of robes. Harry imagined that one or both of the two men had sat down.

"Explain," Dumbledore said. His voice was quiet, but still very stern.

Draco drew in a deep shaky breath and struggled to bring his voice under control. "I...I went home...at the beginning of summer... and my mother...told me...that her sister Bellatrix had told her that the Dark...that he wanted me to join them, to take the Dark Mark and take my father's place."

There was another silence while Draco apparently tried to gather his composure more fully. "You won't believe it, I know, but I didn't want to! I didn't want to serve him. My father took me to a meeting once, in fifth year, and I saw what he was really like. I wasn't brave enough to tell my father then that I didn't want to be a Death Eater, but I told my mother. She didn't want me to become one either. She said it had ruined our family. She sent me off to Germany, to a resort near the Black Forest, for the summer, to get me away from it all."

"I returned home at the end of August, a couple days before the new term. We'd heard that he was dead, that Potter had killed him, and Bellatrix was in Azkaban, and...and I thought things would be all right." Draco's voice broke and he was quiet for a few minutes before continuing in a low voice.

"But when I came home, Dolohov and some of the others were there, and a werewolf called Greyback. They were...so angry. I don't know how long they'd been there, but they had done...horrible things to my mother. They did...horrible things to me. They said they would teach us that we weren't any better than they were, that we couldn't get away with tricking them. And finally...they killed her. I thought they would kill me too. I hoped they would. But they didn't. They just...left."

"And you did not send for help?" Dumbledore demanded.

Draco's voice was bitter. "Who would help us? The Aurors would be glad my mother was dead. Besides, what could they do then? It was too late for them to do anything. Dolohov and the others were gone, and I don't know where they went. The only person I would have called is Severus, but I didn't know how to get in touch with him. But I thought I would be able to go to him once we were at Hogwarts."

"House elves have powerful magic and they are duty-bound to protect their masters," Dumbledore began.

Draco interrupted. "They killed the elves first of all," he said flatly.

"So what did you do next?" The headmaster asked after a moment.

"I buried my mother, in the woods at the edge of our property, and I hid there until morning. Then I went to London and stayed in a room at the Leaky Cauldron. Then it was September 1st and I went to board the Hogwarts Express."

"And you were able to do all this after being tortured, after seeing your mother killed?" Dumbledore questioned.

Draco sighed and when he spoke, Harry almost didn't recognize his voice. He had never heard the other boy sound so defeated.

"I was...numb. All I could think of was that I needed to make it here, to Severus."

Dumbledore's voice was an odd mixture of anger, disbelief and perhaps a hint of sorrow. "We've been at school for six weeks. Why haven't you spoken to anyone before now?"

"Severus hates me. There's no one else I could tell," Draco answered in a dead hopeless voice.

There was another rustle of robes and Dumbledore spoke again, "Come, Mr. Malfoy."

"Where?" A thread of apprehension ran through Draco's voice.

"To the infirmary. I am inferring that you were tortured by Death Eaters. It might have been six weeks ago, but I would still like for Madame Pomfrey to examine you and be certain that you do not require medical attention."

There was a pause and then Harry could hear shuffling feet and the roar of the Floo. He stood and stepped cautiously to the doorway. Severus was alone in the office now, sitting in an armchair by Dumbledore's desk, his face set and expressionless.

"Dad?" Harry asked.

Severus looked over and his face softened. He held out an arm and Harry went to him. The chair was wide and Harry managed to squish in beside his father. Severus wrapped an arm around his shoulder and bowed his head to touch his lips to Harry's hair.

"Dad? What will happen to him?" Harry wanted to know.

He could feel Severus tense.

"Tragic though they are, Draco's circumstances do not excuse his behavior towards you," Severus replied.

"He's your godson, isn't he?" Harry asked softly.

"Yes." Severus cupped Harry's chin with his hand and tilted his head so they looked into each other's eyes. "But you are my son. You are everything to me."

Harry leaned against him and they were silent until the Floo came to life again. Harry jumped slightly and started to stand. He didn't want to see Draco Malfoy, but then he realized that it was too late. He didn't have time to cross the room and escape back into Dumbledore's sitting room.

But only the headmaser stepped from the fireplace.

"Sir, where is he?" Harry asked.

"Draco is still in the infirmary," the old wizard replied. "Madame Pomfrey insisted on a thorough exam, not entirely to the boy's liking."

He went over to his desk and laid a slender stick of wood on it. "Mr. Malfoy's wand," Dumbledore explained. "I confiscated it. Again, he was not at all happy to give it up, but he'd better get used to that. The Aurors won't allow him to keep it."

The headmaster returned to the fireplace and took some Floo powder from a small jar on the mantel.

"Sir?" Harry asked again.

Dumbledore glanced at him. "Yes, Harry?"

"What are you going to do?"

"I need to contact the Ministry, Harry. Aurors will need to go to Malfoy Manor and see if they can confirm Draco's story, and we'll need one or two to come here and take him into custody," Dumbledore explained.

"You're going to have him arrested then?" Harry wanted to know.

Dumbledore nodded wearily. "He did commit an illegal act against you, Harry. And what else are we to do with him? He needs to learn that his actions have consequences and to be held responsible for them."

Harry bowed his head and studied the floor. He certainly had no love for Draco Malfoy, not even much sympathy. But he could still hear the other boy's broken sobs as he described his mother's murder. He could hear the guilt and defeat in Draco's voice.

And Harry knew how it felt to watch someone you love die, to watch them be murdered. He knew what it was to blame oneself for it. Harry knew all about the soul-ripping pain and crushing guilt.

He tried not to let it, but an image of Sirius falling through the veil flashed through his mind, and then an image of Sirius when Harry had first seen him, gaunt to the point of emaciation, his grey eyes wild with the despair and horror of years in Azkaban. Sirius had never spoken of it, but Harry knew he had been haunted by those horrible memories. Remus had said once that Sirius had never been the same since.

Harry took a deep breath. "I don't want him to go to Azkaban."

There was a long silence as both his father and Dumbledore stared at him. Harry could feel their eyes on him, though he kept his own gaze trained on the rug covering the stone floor.

Severus finally spoke. "Harry, you have always been a very compassionate person, but Draco does deserve some punishment. He even needs to be punished."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "But isn't there something else? In the Muggle world, they have places for kids with problems. They can get counseling or something. Doesn't the wizarding world have anything like that?"

"Unfortunately not." Dumbledore glanced at the Floo powder in his hand and then dropped it back into the jar on the mantel. He went to his chair behind his desk and sat down. "I wish we did, but in some ways, Harry, the wizarding world is not as advanced as the Muggle one. We only have Azkaban."

"But Azkaban won't help him. He won't learn anything from there," Harry said.

"You want to help Draco Malfoy?" Severus asked quietly, fixing him with a sharp gaze.

Conflicting emotions swelled up in Harry's chest. He thought of Draco Malfoy casting the enslavement curse against him. He thought of how everyone in the wizarding world would be reading and talking about that article. But then he thought of Draco being held captive by Death Eaters, tortured, and watching his mother die. He thought of Draco weeping and broken in the office just a few minutes earlier, and he remembered suddenly how Draco had tried to approach Severus so often at the beginning of the year and how lost and hurt he had seemed when Severus had brushed him off.

Harry shook his head wildly. "I don't know! I...I don't know." Tears came to his eyes and his throat closed up. He turned to press his face against Severus' shoulder.

His father held him close. "Shh, Harry."

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "A thought has occurred to me, though I don't know how the two of you will feel about it. But what if we made Draco serve as Harry's slave?"

Harry raised his head. He and Severus both stared at Dumbledore in shock.

"What?" They spoke together.

Dumbledore slowly nodded. "As Harry said, Azkaban would punish Draco for his misdeeds, but he would not learn anything from the experience. It is likely that he would one day come out of Azkaban as an even more hardened and dangerous person. Draco needs to be punished, yes, but even more he needs to learn empathy for others. He needs to learn exactly how he has hurt Harry. Perhaps he needs to feel what is like to be a slave."

Severus shook his head in incredulous amazement. "You've finally gone mental, Albus!"

"Oh, I think I went mental a long time ago, Severus," the headmaster replied easily.

"You're seriously suggesting that I bring Draco Malfoy to our home, after all that he has done to hurt my son!" Severus demanded, his arm tightening about Harry's shoulders protectively.

"It might be good for Harry, too," Dumbledore looked at Harry and his blue eyes softened. "I am not at all worried about Harry abusing his power and I think it might help him to have some control over Draco Malfoy, at least for a time."

Harry and Severus looked at one another. Harry gave a small uncertain shrug and Severus turned back to Dumbledore.

"For a time? For how long do you think this would go on, Albus?"

"We could re-evaluate the situation at the end of the school year, or sooner if necessary." Dumbledore frowned slightly. "However, if you and Harry agree to this, I think it might be better not to inform Draco of any time limit. Let him live with the uncertainty that Harry does."

"Well, I certainly have not agreed to it," Severus flared. He turned to his son. "Harry? What do you think of this...idea of Albus'?"

Harry really wasn't sure at all how he felt about it. Part of him was horrified at the idea of bringing Draco Malfoy to Prince Hall, but at the same time he could see the logic in Dumbledore's arguments. But would it even be right to make the other boy act as his slave? But if Azkaban was the other choice, well, that would be even more horrible...probably.

Harry wasn't sure what he wanted. He felt so confused, and bruised inside. It was still hard to even believe that all this had happened, that people knew of the slavery spell and that he and Severus were leaving Hogwarts.

None of this was supposed to have happened. He was supposed to be wandering around Hogsmeade with Ron and Hermione right now, nibbling on sweets from Honeydukes, joking with Ron and listening to Hermione scold them for not having completed their Charms homework.

He was supposed to be having a safe, happy year. Instead it had all gone to hell.

His father and Dumbledore were still waiting for his answer, but all Harry could do was look back down at the floor and mumble, "I don't know."

Severus abruptly shook his head. "No, Albus. I'm not doing it. Prince Hall is Harry's home. He does not have to share it with Draco Malfoy."

In spite of everything, Harry felt a small warm spark inside at his father's words. Severus really did love him, more than anything.

Dumbledore nodded. "I understand. It was a crazy idea as you said, Severus. Harry, I'm sorry again that this has happened and I'm sorry if I upset you with my suggestion. Severus is absolutely correct that you are our top priority. I hope that you will feel happier at home, and perhaps one day you might even feel like returning to Hogwarts."

"You're going to send Malfoy to Azkaban then?" Harry asked in a small voice.

Dumbledore sighed. "I don't think he needs to stay at school and simply carry on as if nothing has happened, not after what he has done to you."

Harry turned to look at Severus. "Do you want him to go to Azkaban?"

"What I want is for you to have some peace and joy in your life," Severus answered softly. He looked down at his son, and though his face was carefully neutral, Harry could see a terrible sorrow hidden in his father's dark eyes.

Harry knew that Severus loved him, that his father's first loyalty was to him, but he thought that it was probably still painful for Severus to know that his godson would be in Azkaban.

And even though Harry was furious with the other boy, so furious that he even thought he might hate him, there was still something inside him that didn't want Draco Malfoy to go to prison.

He wasn't at all sure what he did want and even as he spoke the words, Harry couldn't believe he was saying them. But he took a deep breath and and said quietly, "I don't want him to go to Azkaban. I guess...I guess we could try Professor Dumbledore's idea."

There was a moment of silence after his words; then Severus bowed his head close to his son's and said quietly, "Harry, you do not have to do this."

Harry only nodded. He really didn't want to bring Draco Malfoy to his home. He couldn't stand to think about it actually. He didn't want to ever see the other boy again.

But he kept hearing Draco's despairing sobs as he had spoken of the Death Eaters and of his mother's death, and Harry couldn't help but feel a spark of sympathy. Draco had been through his own hell lately and Harry knew only too well what it was like to be hurting and alone and to have no one to turn to.

Azkaban was a horrible place, and Draco was still just a kid. Harry didn't want him to have to go there.

He looked up into Severus' concerned face. "Do I have to see him?"

"No, you do not have to do anything that you do not wish to do," Severus answered firmly.

Harry considered and then sighed and nodded. "Let him come then."

Severus sighed, too, and looked back at Dumbledore. "I am not sure I like this idea, Albus. Harry is too kind-hearted for his own good, and Draco has hurt him badly."

"Of course Draco does not have to go to Prince Hall if you do not wish it, Severus," Dumbledore replied at once. "Perhaps I should not have suggested it in the first place. It simply seemed like a solution that might help Harry as well as teach Draco some important lessons. But please forgive me if I spoke out of turn."

Severus stared at him incredulously. "Exactly how do you think having Draco in our home would help Harry?"

The headmaster folded his hands together and laid them on top of his desk. His blue eyes turned to Harry with a kindly gaze.

"I may be wrong...feel free to correct me, Harry...but I imagine that one thing that has been hard for Harry to bear is the feeling that he has little control over his life, that his free will has been taken from him."

When have I ever had control over my life? Harry couldn't help the trace of bitterness that crept into his thoughts, but Dumbledore was right. It had gotten even worse since he had become a slave.

Severus' voice was sorrowful. "Harry, you know you can do anything that is within my power to grant, don't you?"

Harry nodded and tried to smile at him.

"Oh, Severus, I don't doubt that you do everything possible to help Harry," Dumbledore reassured him. "But your own words confirm the problem...'anything that is within your power to grant'. Of course, Harry, as you are still a minor child, your father's authority would supersede yours anyhow until you come of age, even without the slavery spell in effect."

Harry nodded silently again.

"And I know that Severus loves you dearly and would move heaven and earth to help you accomplish any desire you might have," the headmaster went on. "Still, I am sure that it is a difficult matter, and right now in particular I imagine you feel as if Draco Malfoy has the upper hand and that you are powerless before him."

He paused, but this time Harry remained still and stared at the floor.

"So, Severus." Dumbledore turned his attention back to the Potions Master. "If you decided to go ahead with my idea, it would empower Harry and perhaps help him to feel on equal footing with Draco and with his other peers as well."

Severus frowned. "Perhaps so. I want to have Draco punished for the harm he has done to my son, and if it could somehow help him to become a better person, that is all to the good. But, Albus, even if it is only temporary and possibly a better fate than Azkaban, I simply cannot condone placing another person under a slavery spell. It's bad enough that it happened to Harry by accident."

Dumbledore looked shocked. "Oh, no! I can see that I did not choose my words well. I never meant that Draco would be an actual slave, only that he would have to work for Harry and for you, and obey your rules. Perhaps this sounds a bit like slavery, but if he were sent to Azkaban, which I consider a likely outcome if this went to trial, Draco would be required to obey the guards at the prison. And as for working, well, it is not a custom in our culture, but I believe it is common in the Muggle world for nonviolent offenders to serve a work sentence, either in addition to or instead of confinement."

"But Draco would not be under an enslavement spell?" Severus questioned.

"No, not at all," Dumbledore agreed. "Indeed, we will present him with the choices and allow him to decide if he prefers this idea or if he wishes to take a chance with a trial."

Harry leaned against his father and halfway listened as the two men continued to discuss the details of the plan. Finally Severus turned to him again and said, "Well, Harry, you have the final say. Do you want to give Albus' idea a try or just go home and forget about all of this?"

It was so tempting to say that he wanted to go home and forget, but Harry shook his head and mumbled, "Let's try it."

Severus reached to gently tilt Harry's face towards him, his fingers cupping his son's chin. "Harry, if he causes the slightest trouble, he'll come straight back here to be taken into custody."

Flames roared in the fireplace then and Madame Pomfrey's face floated in the air above them. "Albus, I'm finished with Draco Malfoy. He's underweight and sleep-deprived, but I've given him a nutritive potion and prescribed dreamless sleep for a few nights to help with that. I'm sending him back to your office now."

"Very well, Poppy. Thank you," Dumbledore replied.

Harry jumped to his feet. "Can I go back to the sitting room?"

He thought Severus looked saddened by his words, though he didn't understand why, but his father nodded to him and said, "If you wish."

Harry hurried back to the next room and Severus went to stand behind the desk at Dumbledore's side. An instant later Harry heard the sounds of Draco Malfoy returning from the infirmary.

"Have a seat, Mr. Malfoy." The headmaster directed. "Professor Snape, Harry, and I have been discussing the situation and deciding how we wish to proceed."

"Potter?" Draco sounded slightly bewildered and Harry could imagine the other boy looking about the office for any trace of him. He wondered if Draco suspected him of hiding under the invisibility cloak. Actually, now that the thought had occurred to him, Harry wished that he had remembered the cloak earlier. He didn't feel ready to face Draco, but it would be nice to be able to see what was happening.

He edged closer to the partially-opened door, but made sure to stay out of sight. He could see a sideways view of Dumbledore seated at his desk, and his father, both of them staring ahead with grim expressions, presumably at Draco, but the other boy himself was out of Harry's sight.

"Harry is no longer here. Pay attention, Mr. Malfoy. While we recognize that you have been through a terrible ordeal and we are not without sympathy for that, you need to understand that you have committed two very grievous wrongs against an innocent person," Dumbledore said.

There was a small sound, as if Draco had started to speak and then thought better of it.

"Casting the slavery spell at Harry last spring was an illegal act, make no mistake about that," Dumbledore continued. "You may not have known that the spell would enslave him, but the law is very clear about the dangerous and immoral nature of casting an unknown spell against a sentient being. You had no idea what that spell would do to Harry when you cast it. You assumed that it would be relatively harmless. It was not. It has had drastic and possibly permanent consequences for him, and it has caused him great emotional pain and suffering. You have also deprived him of wealth and material goods."

"If we choose to press charges against you, I believe it is very likely that you would be found guilty and would receive a lengthy sentence in Azkaban. Your hope would be that the jury would have clemency on you due to your age and to the fact that you did not intentionally enslave Harry. But you are close enough to adulthood that you should be well aware of the dangers of unknown spells, and while the enslavement was unintentional, the fact that you have shown no remorse...indeed you have hurt and humiliated him even further..., well, that would not be in your favour, Mr. Malfoy."

There was a heavy silence after Dumbledore finished speaking. Then Draco spoke, his voice sounding uncharacteristically small and frightened. "You...you said if you pressed charges?"

"We have decided to offer you another option. Professor Snape and Harry are departing later today for their home in North Yorkshire. You could accompany them and stay there also...as their servant." Dumbledore told him.

"What?"

Well, that sounded more like the old Draco Malfoy, Harry thought wryly.

"The punishment should fit the crime, don't you think?" Dumbledore replied. "And what would be more fitting than for you to receive a small taste of the fate you have subjected Harry to?"

"But you can't make me be a servant! I have rights! I have..." Draco burst out.

Dumbledore overrode him. "You are absolutely correct, Mr. Malfoy. It is your choice. You do have rights and I'm certain the Aurors will inform you of them when they come to take you into custody. If you like, I can notify your next of kin...I believe that would be Mrs. Andromeda Tonks...and she can arrange for a barrister to represent you at your trial."

Dumbledore stood and made a move towards the fireplace, but Draco spoke again.

"No, wait...please." The please sounded forced, Harry thought, but he could tell the other boy was scared at the thought of being arrested.

Dumbledore paused, piercing Draco with his direct gaze.

Draco's words were slow and reluctant. "Tell me more about if I went with Severus and...and Potter."

"It is simple enough." The headmaster returned to his seat. "You would go to Prince Hall with Professor Snape and Harry. You would be their personal servant, required to do their bidding and to obey any rules that they might choose to set for you. You would retain ownership of your possessions, but so long as you are at Prince Hall, you would not be allowed to purchase or use anything without their permission."

Draco made another strangled sort of sound.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at him. "If you choose to go to trial and are convicted, might I point out that your possessions would actually be taken from you and would become the property of your next of kin. Prisoners are not allowed to own property."

There was another silence while Draco seemed to be thinking things through.

"I...I wouldn't be under a real enslavement spell?"

Dumbledore's eyes flashed with some emotion but Harry couldn't tell what it was. His own father simply stood there, like a statue, with his face set like an expressionless mask. Harry could usually read Severus' emotions by now, but right now he wasn't completely sure. He knew his father loved him dearly, and was furious with Draco, but the boy was still Severus' godson and Severus had known him all his life. Severus was likely hurting for Draco's sake, too.

"No," Dumbledore replied coolly. "You would not be under an enslavement spell. You would, however, be in Professor Snape's custody, and you would agree to abide by his authority and be subject to the rules and punishments that he sets."

"Punishments?" Draco faltered. "What...what type of punishments?"

Severus waved his hand in a sharp, impatient gesture. "Talk of punishment is misleading. You have one chance to avoid a prison sentence, Mr. Malfoy, and one chance only. You will agree to obey our rules and to complete any assignment to our satisfaction. If there is any trouble I will send you back here and Professor Dumbledore will arrange for Aurors to take you into custody."

"How long would I have to be...you know," Draco asked after a minute.

"A servant?" Dumbledore filled in for him. "Well, let's see. Professor Snape and I are attempting to find a way to restore Harry's freedom. I think it only fair that your punishment should last until we succeed. Does that seem just to you, Severus?"

"Perfectly," Severus replied.

"But...but," Draco stammered. "What if you can't find a way to free Potter?"

"I suggest you start praying that we do," Dumbledore replied in a steely tone.

"But that's not fair," Draco protested.

"What is unfair, Mr. Malfoy, is that you took everything from Harry...his possessions, his independence, his future, and left him at the mercy of someone who has complete power over him. Fortunately, Severus Snape is a good man and he never abused his power. Even more fortunately, he and Harry came to love one another. Indeed, to regard one another as father and son, and he is committed to caring for Harry. But the loss of freedom is still a terrible blow. Perhaps you are beginning to understand that," Dumbledore said.

Dumbledore leaned across his desk, staring intently at the blond boy. "Mr. Malfoy, your stay at Prince Hall is not intended to be a pleasant experience, but I am quite sure that you will not be maltreated or abused there. What if I were sending you off to live with someone who would beat you for the smallest infraction, or not feed you properly, or abuse you in even more terrible ways? Those Death Eaters who tormented you...what if you were a slave to someone like that for the rest of your life? Can you not begin to understand how horribly you have harmed Harry?"

Harry thought he could hear Draco swallowing. "But none of those things happened to Potter."

Well, not with Dad at least, Harry repressed memories of the Dursleys.

"But they could have," Dumbledore sighed. "The choice is yours, Mr. Malfoy. Decide now. Will you agree to serve Harry at Prince Hall, or shall I contact the Aurors?"

Draco was silent for so long that Harry had decided he wasn't going to answer, but finally, in a voice so low that it could scarcely be heard, Draco mumbled, "I...I'll go with Severus and Potter."

"Harry," Severus suddenly spoke, his voice clear and crisp.

For a second Harry was confused, thinking that his father was calling him. He didn't want to go into Dumbledore's office and grimaced, even as he took another step towards the door.

But then Severus continued and Harry realized that his father was speaking to Draco.

"From now on, Draco, you will address my son by his first name, not as ‘Potter'."

When he spoke, Draco's voice was an odd mixture of resignation and frustration. "Yes, sir. I'll go with you and...Harry."

Everything was settled pretty quickly after that. Dumbledore sent Draco back to the Slytherin dormitory to pack, with instructions for him to remain there until someone came to fetch him. Then the headmaster and Severus came into the sitting room with Harry.

"Severus, Harry, may I offer you some tea and biscuits?" Dumbledore asked.

Severus glanced at his son. At another time Harry might have been tempted, but now he only wanted to pack and go home as quickly as possible. Fortunately his father seemed to understand.

"Thank you, Albus, but I don't think we're in the mood right now. We'll just finish packing and leave for Prince Hall," the Potions Master responded. "You will accompany Draco later this evening?"

"Yes, if you wish," Dumbledore agreed. "If you feel the arrangement is not working out, then of course you may send for me at once."

"Oh, I will, never fear," Severus answered dryly.

Dumbledore turned to Harry, his blue eyes sad and kind. "Harry, I am truly sorry and I hope that you will feel able to return to Hogwarts one day. But whatever you do, know that you are a wonderful young man, and try to be happy."

"Thank you, sir," Harry mumbled, ducking his head. He felt grateful for Dumbledore's obvious concern, but all of a sudden he couldn't help feeling slightly resentful too. A few minutes earlier, Dumbledore had spoken with Draco, trying to make him realize what the other boy had done to Harry, pointing out that at least Draco would not be with people who would beat or starve him.

But Dumbledore had indeed sent Harry to that fate, long ago, when Harry had been a helpless infant. His own relatives had treated him far more cruelly than anyone else ever had. Harry had thought that he had accepted Dumbledore's reasoning, that while it had pained him, the old wizard had felt that Privet Drive was still the safest place.

But now, suddenly, Harry had to wonder. Couldn't Dumbledore have done more to protect him? Hadn't there been any other place he could have gone? Couldn't Dumbledore have at least checked in from time to time and insisted that the Dursleys treat Harry properly?

But Harry couldn't deal with these emotions, not on top of everything else. He had enough to handle right now without resenting Dumbledore and old decisions made years ago. He closed his eyes for a second and tried to banish those thoughts.

When he opened his eyes again, he noticed that both his father and the headmaster were studying him in concern, but Harry certainly didn't feel like discussing anything else now.

He turned to Severus. "Can we go, Dad? Please?"

Severus nodded to him and looked back at Dumbledore. "I will see you this evening, Albus."

They stepped into the fireplace and Flooed back to the dungeons.

***

"So, that's it then?" Ron asked. He, Hermione, and Harry had spent the past two hours packing up all of Harry's things for the trip back to Prince Hall.

Harry was kneeling by his trunk, trying to squash in another layer of thick jumpers on top of the mountain of clothes already crammed inside. Severus had indeed insisted on refurbishing Harry's winter wardrobe, and for a man who always dressed so plainly and starkly himself, he certainly had bought his son an extravagant selection of clothing.

Hermione was standing by Harry's desk, reaching through the bars of Hedwig's cage to lightly stroke the snowy owl's feathers.

She shook her head at Harry. "Oh, here, let me." She flicked her wand and immediately the clothes shrank to miniature size.

Even though he was unhappy, Harry smiled up at her. "Thanks."

Ron came over. "Gosh, Harry, you have more clothes than Draco Malfoy ever dreamed of owning."

Harry shut the lid of the trunk and fastened it with a frown. "Let's not talk about him, okay?"

Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance.

"Harry, you don't have to let him go to Prince Hall if it's too hard for you," Hermione said softly.

Harry sighed. She was right, he knew. It had been his choice to allow the Slytherin boy to come. If he had said ‘no', then that would have been the end of it. Yet in another way, Harry felt that he hadn't had much choice. In spite of everything, he didn't want Draco to have to go to Azkaban. Mainly because he couldn't help but feel some sympathy for him, but also for his father's sake. Draco Malfoy was still Severus' godson and Severus would have to feel some little bit of concern and sorrow for him.

"Well, let's just not talk about him. I'm not going to see him or talk with him or have anything to do with him, so as far as I'm concerned, he's got nothing to do with me, all right?" Harry stood and looked about at his room. The desk and shelves were bare now. Everything was ready to go.

He turned to his two best friends. "I'm going to miss you guys so much."

They came close.

Hermione's eyes filled with tears. "We're going to miss you too, Harry. I wish...," her voice trailed off.

"I can't stay, Mione," Harry whispered thickly. "I'm sorry, but I just can't."

She nodded and hugged him.

"Your dad said something about us coming to visit, didn't he?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, I need to speak with Dumbledore. But Dad thought he would be okay with it," Harry replied.

"Well, then," Ron said with forced cheer. "That'll be all right. We'll see you again soon."

"Yeah, soon," Harry agreed. They were quiet for a moment and then Harry took his wand and cast featherlight and shrinking charms on his trunk. Then he easily lifted it and went out to the parlour, his friends following.

Severus was shrinking some boxes. He straightened and turned to the three teens. "Are you ready, Harry?"

"Yes, I think so."

"Well, then...," Severus was interrupted by a knock on the door to the outside corridor. They all looked questioningly at one another and then Severus went to answer it.

Ginny, Neville, and Luna stood there, looking nervous but determined. Well, Ginny and Neville looked nervous. Luna was gazing about the Slytherin corridor with a sort of serene curiousity.

When Severus opened the door, Neville took a deep breath and said politely, "Good afternoon, sir. We wondered if we could see Harry for a few minutes?"

Severus looked back at his son with a raised eyebrow. Harry hesitated, but finally nodded. He dreaded having to answer their questions about the slavery spell and why he hadn't told them, but he owed it to Neville, Ginny, and Luna to see them before he left.

But they didn't ask any questions. When Severus stepped aside and ushered them in, Neville, Ginny, and Luna went straight to Harry and simply engulfed him in a big hug.

"Harry, we just wanted you to know that we love you and we'll always be on your side," Luna said.

Ginny nodded, her eyes bright. "Ron and Hermione said you were leaving?"

Harry nodded, feeling unable to speak past the lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat.

Ginny looked unhappy. "I wish you would stay. We'll miss you, Harry."

Harry only nodded again. He felt like an idiot, just standing there like a lump, silently nodding at everything, but he didn't want to risk breaking down either.

"Harry, if you would stay, we would make sure that no one gave you a hard time," Ginny continued seriously. Neville and Luna nodded quickly in agreement.

"That's right. Ron and I could stay with you all the time, and the girls could for most of the time, too," Neville told him. "We'd always be around to keep anyone from bothering you."

"Anyone who tried wouldn't know what hit them," Ginny said fiercely.

"I bet none of the professors would even give us detention," Ron added, giving Harry a hopeful look.

Harry sighed and shook his head. He swallowed hard and forced himself to speak, "I'm sorry. I am. You're the best friends that anyone could have, but I just can't stay here now."

Ginny and Luna hugged him again.

"We'll miss you," Luna said quietly.

"Harry, you know my Great-Uncle Algie?" Neville asked abruptly.

Harry frowned in confusion, unsure how Great-Uncle Algie related to the present situation, but he nodded. "Yeah."

"Do you know what he does for a living?" Neville went on without waiting for an answer. "He's in business. He buys and sells shares in different companies all the time. Well, recently he just happened to buy controlling shares of the stock in the Daily Prophet, so he has some influence there. I'm going to write to him and he can find out who wrote that article. I don't think he can fire them legally, if what they wrote is true, but he can make life difficult for that person."

"Thanks, Neville," was all Harry could say.

Neville held out his hand and Harry clasped it. Then they let go and Neville glanced over to Ginny and Luna. "Well, I guess that was it. We just wanted to see you and tell you that you can count on us."

Severus had been watching them. He cleared his throat and approached Neville. "Mr. Longbottom,...," he paused and took a deep breath. "Mr. Longbottom, you are a good friend to my son, and I would like to thank you as well."

Neville looked startled. He gazed at Severus for a moment, considering, and then slowly nodded. "You're welcome, sir. But you don't have to thank me for being Harry's friend. He's always been a good friend to me."

Severus inclined his head. He looked at the others gathered around Harry. "Thank you, all of you. Harry and I will speak with Professor Dumbledore this evening about arranging for you all to come to Prince Hall to visit. I believe the headmaster will be agreeable, but he will need to have permission from your parents or guardians before you can come. So if you would like to visit, may I suggest that you go ahead and contact your families."

Harry smiled at him, feeling better than he had since the news had broken. He had known that Severus would welcome Ron and Hermione to Prince Hall, but that he would also agree to allow Ginny, Luna, and Neville...well, that meant a lot to Harry.

His father's dark eyes rested on him. "If you're ready, Harry, I suppose we should be off. Norie and Zan were going to prepare a late lunch for us, and your friends will miss eating in the Great Hall if we don't leave soon."

Harry looked over at his friends...Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, and Luna, the best friends anyone could ever have. He had already thanked them all and he couldn't think of anything else to say.

Ginny and Luna hugged him quickly again. Neville waved. Then Hermione and Ron came over and wrapped their arms around him.

Harry hugged them back, hard. "I love you," he whispered.

"We love you, too," Hermione whispered back and Ron nodded.

Finally they stepped apart and Harry grabbed the handle of his trunk. He went over to the fire place and reached into the vase on the mantel for a pinch of Floo powder. He tossed it into the grate and stepped in, calling out, "Prince Hall!"

Green fire swirled around him, and then he was tumbling out into the kitchen at Prince Hall, just as he had four months earlier, but this time he fell into Norie and Zan's exuberant welcoming embrace.

"Master Harry!" Norie exclaimed, nearly deafening Harry as she squealed right into his ear. She had a stranglehold around his neck too, so Harry felt slightly dazed when she and Zan stepped back and beamed at him.

Well, Norie was beaming. Zan was smiling also, but ‘beaming' just didn't seem to be the best word to describe his gentle, dignified demeanor.

Harry smiled back at them. "Norie, Zan, I'm so glad to see you again!" And it was true. He was sad and upset about everything else, but seeing the elves again helped.

"And we are happy to see you as well," Zan said. "Prince Hall has been too quiet and empty without you and Master Severus."

Harry looked about at the kitchen with its pale walls, dark wooden beams crossing the ceiling, the brick floor, and the copper-bottomed pots resting on the table set in the center of the room and on the wooden counters along the sides of the walls. The room hadn't changed at all since he had first seen it at the beginning of last summer. Harry took a deep breath, feeling as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

He was home again.

Everything would be all right now. He could just stay here at home with Severus and the elves, and see his friends on the weekends and holidays. He would never have to face hostile crowds or listen to curious whispers again. He was safe here.

"But Master Harry," Norie said. "Are you certain that leaving Hogwarts was a wise decision? You seemed very happy there and you are leaving your friends, your education." Her smile had vanished and her wizened face was filled with concern.

Harry shook his head firmly. "Dad told you about...you know, how everyone knows about the spell now. I couldn't stay there anymore, Norie. I just couldn't bear it."

"You can't run away from your problems, Master Harry," Norie replied.

"I couldn't stay there!" Harry repeated, his voice rising. He looked at them desperately. Severus had talked with them. Why couldn't they understand how hard this was for him?

"Now, calm down, child. I didn't mean to upset you," Norie said soothingly.

At the same time Zan spoke calmly, "Master Severus and Master Harry have decided to come home for a bit. That is their decision."

"Of course," Norie agreed. She smiled again, though her blue eyes were still solemn as she patted Harry's arm. "And we're glad to see you again, Master Harry."

Behind them the Floo roared and Harry quickly moved out of the way as his father stepped from the fireplace into the kitchen.

"Master Severus!" Norie and Zan greeted him enthusiastically too.

Severus nodded to them as he set down the trunk and boxes he carried in his arms. "Norie, Zan, how are you?"

"We're very well," Zan told him as Norie flicked her fingers at their trunks and boxes, which promptly disappeared.

"Zan and I will see to putting your things away while you eat, Master Severus, Master Harry," she said. "Lunch is already on the table."

"I'm not very hungry," Harry said quietly.

Severus frowned. "You didn't have any breakfast, Harry."

"I'm not hungry."

His father sighed. "Try to eat a little. Please, for me."

Harry really didn't want to, but Severus was so anxious. His father almost always managed to keep a calm expression, but Harry could see concern in his eyes. So he gave in. "All right, I'll try."

"Thank you," Severus told him. He turned to the elves, "Norie, Zan, would you care to join us?"

But Norie and Zan shook their heads. "Oh, no, Master Severus," Norie said firmly. "We've already eaten and we have a great deal to do."

So she and Zan apparated upstairs to the bedrooms to unpack while Severus and Harry went to the dining room where their plates were piled high with chicken pie and fruit salad. Harry had not planned to eat much, only a few bites to satisfy his father, but the food was so good that he ate more than he realized and was surprised when he glanced down and noticed that his plate was almost empty.

"So what shall we do now?" Severus asked as they were finishing.

Harry looked down at the table. "I don't know," he mumbled. "I don't really feel like doing anything."

Severus reached to take his hand, gently curling his fingers around his son's. "Harry, it will be all right."

Harry looked at their entwined hands, remembering other times that his father had held his hand to offer him comfort. He looked up at Severus and tried to smile. "Yeah."

"Harry, most people are very grateful to you for saving us from Voldemort. I think Draco might be mistaken in his assumptions of how the public will react to the news. I believe many people will respond with sympathy and outrage on your behalf," Severus said quietly.

"Maybe," Harry agreed. He didn't want people's pity though. That might be even worse than scorn and derision.

"But you said I didn't have to go anywhere, right?" He asked, suddenly anxious. "I don't have to go out and see people, do I?"

"No, not unless you want to," Severus reassured him.

"I'll never want to," Harry said vehemently. "I just want to stay here at home and not see anyone. Well, except for my friends."

"I hope that one day you will feel differently." Severus held up his other hand to stop Harry's protestations. "But it is your decision. I will not pressure you to go anywhere against your will. All right?"

"All right," Harry whispered. "Thanks, Dad."

They were quiet for a moment and then Severus spoke again.

"It was very compassionate of you to want to spare Draco from Azkaban, Harry."

Harry shrugged. "Azkaban's horrible. I know that Si..." He broke off abruptly, not wanting to remember his godfather right now when he already felt so emotional. "Well, it's a horrible place. I didn't think he should have to go there."

Severus nodded. "Yes, it is." He hesitated, and squeezed Harry's fingers lightly. "I wanted to be sure though, that your decision was not influenced by your regard for me."

Harry just looked at him in confusion.

"Draco is my godson. I know that you are aware of that," Severus explained. "I want to be certain that you understand that you are the most important person in my life, and you always will be."

That lump was back in his throat again. Harry struggled to speak around it. "Thanks, Dad." He looked back down at their hands and added. "And you're the most important person to me, too."

Severus' black eyes were soft as he spoke. "And that's why I want you to know that if having Draco here is too difficult for you, then we can send him away. I will support you fully."

"I know, Dad. Thanks," Harry said softly. He had known it, but it did feel good to hear his father say those words aloud.

"You are welcome." Severus gave his hand a last pat and let go.

A thought suddenly occurred to Harry. "Dad, where is he going to stay?"

"I was going to put him in that room that you had in the beginning, the one on the top floor," Severus replied.

Harry was quiet a moment. He didn't want Draco to have a room close to his and his father's suites. It would be rather difficult not to see him if the other boy was just down the hall. But he wondered if it was wise to place Draco far away from Severus' supervision. Who knew what mischief he might get up to all on his own?

"Do you think he could cause any trouble up there by himself?" Harry asked.

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Draco is not going to cause any trouble at all if he is wise, and I shall make that very clear to him, just in case he has not already realized."

He reached for his glass and took a sip of water. "Of course I plan to place monitoring charms on his room as well, though."

"Oh, okay. I guess that would work too," Harry agreed. He glanced at his father. Another thought had occurred to him and while he didn't want Severus to be offended on Draco's behalf...the boy was his godson, after all...Harry couldn't help being concerned. He said hesitantly. "Dad? Prince Hall is still under the Fidelius Charm, isn't it?"

At Severus' nod, he continued slowly, "Well, will it still be safe once he can come here, too?"

Severus nodded again. "I don't believe that Draco would bring anyone here who would do us bodily harm and in any case, I don't plan for him to be coming and going from Prince Hall. Once here, he will remain here until the end of the school term, unless we decide otherwise. But I would not take any chance with our safety so just to be certain, Albus and I are going to re-set the Fidelius Charm this evening after he has brought Draco here."

"Will my friends be able to come through?" Harry asked.

"Yes, Albus can let them through from Hogwarts," Severus told him.

"You do think Dumbledore'll let them come, don't you?"

For once his father did not remind him to use the headmaster's title. Instead he simply answered, "I feel quite certain he will."

Then Severus was quiet for a moment, studying Harry carefully.

Harry tilted his head quizzically. "What is it?"

"I know that you are hurt and upset by today's events. I am hurt and upset for you," Severus said. "What can I do to help?"

Harry had dropped his head but now he looked back up at his father. "You've already helped. Thanks, Dad."

"I want to do more," Severus told him.

"I don't think there is anything else you can do," Harry replied.

Severus leaned close, his dark gaze so intense that Harry felt compelled to meet it. His voice low but intense, Severus asked, "Harry, you do remember that you promised me you would not attempt suicide again?"

"Well, yes, of course. I haven't even thought about doing that again, Dad. I promise," Harry told him.

"And you promised that if such thoughts ever did cross your mind again, that you would come and tell me," Severus pressed.

"I will," Harry nodded. "But they haven't...crossed my mind, I mean. I've been upset, but I don't want to die anymore."

He hesitated before adding softly, "I don't want to leave you."

"That...means a great deal to me," Severus said huskily. "And I would never want to leave you either."

Harry smiled at him, and if it was slightly wobbly it was still a genuine smile. The corners of Severus' mouth turned up and then he spoke more briskly.

"Well, shall we see if Norie and Zan have unpacked your Firebolt? My old Silver Arrow doesn't compare, I know, but it might be fun to chase the snitch and have a race or two."

"You mean you'd fly with me?" Harry stared at him in astonishment. He couldn't remember ever seeing his father on a broomstick before.

Severus raised an eyebrow. "I may not have your talent, but I am a competent flyer, I assure you."

"All right, Dad. You're on." Harry couldn't help feeling a little better as they left the table and headed upstairs to collect their brooms. He was safely at home. He didn't have to confront the public, and he was going to spend the afternoon flying with his father. He didn't even complain when Severus insisted he wear a thick cloak over his red jumper and jeans.

Well, he didn't complain much. "Dad, it's the middle of October, not the dead of winter."

"You have only just recovered from pneumonia, Harry, and it is brisk and windy outside," Severus replied firmly, holding out the black cloak.

Harry sighed, took the cloak and fastened it about his shoulders. "Happy?"

Once the word was out of his mouth, it occurred to him that it sounded rather cheeky and he wondered if Severus would reprimand him.

Severus looked as if he were considering it, but then he simply rolled his eyes and gestured for Harry to precede him down the stairs. "Deliriously. Shall we?"

They spent the rest of the afternoon flying, soaring above the lawn and the moor, twisting and turning through the air as they chased the elusive golden snitch and raced against one another. Severus was right that his Silver Arrow wasn't much competition against Harry's Firebolt, but they had a good time and if a few of his son's daring aerial manoeuvres caused Severus' heart to skip a beat, he had to admit that it was worthwhile to see joy replace the sorrow and pain in Harry's eyes, even if only temporarily.

The sun was low in the sky when they finally touched down and walked across the lawn to the stone manor. Norie and Zan had prepared a delicious dinner in honour of their first night back home and Harry found that his appetite had returned full force. Being home again, and the afternoon spent outside in the fresh air, had helped. He ate every bite of the tomato bisque soup, filet mignon and roasted potatoes, with chocolate éclairs for dessert.

As they were finishing, Harry suddenly turned to Severus. "Hey, Dad, we had chocolate éclairs for dessert the very first night I was here. But I could scarcely eat mine then; I was so scared and upset. Do you remember?"

Severus looked at him and his black eyes were very soft. "I remember you were not able to eat much the first few weeks, but I did not remember the menu at any particular meal. I do wish that I had done more to help you in the beginning, Harry."

"It's all right, Dad. I didn't mean to make you feel bad," Harry said guiltily.

"I will always feel badly about that, Harry, about all the years that I misjudged you and mistreated you. If we had been on better terms to start with, it would have been much easier for you to come here," Severus replied.

"It still would have been hard to know that I was...a slave." Harry looked away.

"Yes," Severus agreed quietly. "I know."

There was a moment of quiet when Harry felt the weight of gloom and shame pressing in on him again.

Then Severus cleared his throat. "Harry, Albus will be bringing Draco soon. If you do not want to see him..."

Harry jumped up from the table. "I'll be in my room. But can I speak with Dumbledore before he leaves?"

"Professor Dumbledore," Severus corrected. "Yes, I'll call you."

"Thanks, Dad." And Harry hurried out of the dining room.

Severus followed slowly, though he simply went across the hall to the golden parlour instead of upstairs. He sank down into an armchair by the fireplace and gazed unseeingly into the flames as he considered the day's events.

So much had happened. Only that morning he and Harry had been at Hogwarts, and Severus' biggest worry had been wondering whether the fourth-year Hufflepuffs were capable of brewing euphoria elixirs. Now his son's greatest fear had come true with the discovery of the slavery spell and Severus was deeply concerned for him.

He believed Harry when the boy promised him he had not considered suicide again, and that he would come to Severus if he were ever tempted. He believed, and yet he still worried. Well, he would keep close watch over his son, and he would enlist Norie and Zan's aid. Perhaps he should consider placing monitoring charms over Harry's room as well, at least for a time. It would be a violation of Harry's privacy, which Severus hated, but his son's safety was paramount. He wouldn't leave the charms in place forever, after all, only until he felt they were past the current crisis.

The current crisis, which had all come about because of Draco. Severus felt so torn and conflicted by thoughts of his godson that he wasn't even sure how to respond to the boy. On the one hand, he was furious, as angry as he had ever been. Draco had hurt his son and Severus wasn't sure if he could forgive that, or if he even wanted to. Actually, Draco had hurt Harry twice, first by casting the enslavement spell and then by running to the newspaper to tell the public.

Casting the slavery spell had been a terrible thing, but at least it had been unintentional. But Draco had gone to Rita Skeeter deliberately, knowing full well what he was doing and with the intention of hurting Harry. That was very hard for Severus to forgive, loving Harry as he did now and knowing how devastated his son was.

There was a part of Severus that almost wanted to see Draco imprisoned for that.

But then he would see Draco in his mind's eye, as a small child with an innocent face lit with joy when he saw his godfather...in the few precious years before Lucius had insisted he repress his emotions and behave with dignified reserve.

Severus would remember the longing in Draco's eyes that the boy couldn't quite manage to hide when his parents treated him with disdain or neglect. He would remember the times he and Draco had spent alone once the boy was at Hogwarts. Draco had often volunteered to help him with his tasks and with brewing, and though Draco was quite good at Potions...much better than Harry was, actually...Severus knew that it wasn't ambition or a passion for the subject that had drawn Draco to him. No, Draco had come because he was so starved for any hint of affection and approval.

And of course, Severus couldn't stop thinking of the horrors Draco had suffered just a few weeks ago. The boy had been vague, but Severus had been to Death Eater rallies before. He knew what atrocities they were capable of. He could imagine it all too well.

That also made him remember how harsh and brusque he himself had been with Draco ever since the term had begun. His godson had tried to approach him several times, only to be sternly rebuffed. Severus couldn't help but feel guilty now. At the time, he had felt justified, thinking only of how Draco had hurt his son.

But now Severus had to wonder if perhaps he should have handled Draco differently. After all, Draco had not known about the slavery spell then. He had not realized that he had caused such harm to Harry. Though casting an unknown spell had been a dangerous and foolish thing to do, Draco had thought that he had only been continuing the schoolboy-rivalry that he and Harry had shared since their first days at Hogwarts.

Nothing could excuse the fact that Draco had gone to the newspapers once he had learned of the slavery spell...but Severus had to wonder if Draco would have done that if he, Severus, had behaved differently. Draco had gone to the paper because he blamed Harry for taking Severus from him, and at a time when Draco had needed Severus more than ever.

It had been a terrible decision on Draco's part, and Severus was furious with him. But if he had been receptive to Draco, if he had listened and had learned of Draco's tragedy, could he have changed these recent events? Could he have helped Draco, and in doing so, have helped Harry as well?

Severus sighed and shook his head. The past was over and done with. Brooding over possibilities wouldn't change anything now, and he had to try to decide how to manage things before Albus and Draco arrived, which should be any time now.

Draco was his godson, and beneath his fury, Severus knew he cared for him.

But Harry was his son and Severus loved him with all his heart.

Draco had suffered terribly, but so had Harry, and Harry was the truly innocent victim in all of this.

Was there a way to balance his concern for Draco with his love for Harry? Could he help his godson without betraying his son? Severus hoped so, because he did want to help Draco, to guide him towards becoming a better person and give him a chance to have a future...but his first loyalty was to Harry, absolutely, and Severus would not do anything that would further hurt his son.

His thoughts were interrupted by the Floo.

Albus and Draco had arrived.

Severus stood to meet them as Albus swept out of the fireplace, resplendent as always in his sapphire robes. Draco stepped behind him. Severus watched the boy from the corner of his eye, judging his stance and reactions, even as he greeted Albus.

Draco was dressed plainly, for him, in a dark grey shirt and trousers. But simple as they were, the clothes were well-made as were the soft black leather loafers on his feet. His back was straight and his head held high. He carried his trunk, shrunk to miniature size, in one hand while the other rested calmly at his side. Most observers would have never guessed that he was nervous or uneasy, but Severus knew Draco better than most. He could see beyond the obvious façade to the tense lines of the boy's shoulders and the flicker of uncertainty in Draco's silver eyes as he glanced at Severus and then quickly averted his gaze.

Severus shook hands with Albus and exchanged pleasantries. Then the headmaster also glanced about the parlour. "How is Harry? I was hoping to see him."

"He's well." Severus was not sure that that was true, but he did not want to have a detailed discussion on Harry's state of mind in front of Draco. "Harry wants to see you as well, Albus. If you have a few minutes, I'll show Draco to his room and tell Harry that you're here."

"Of course," Albus agreed.

"Zan," Severus called, and an instant later the tiny elf appeared.

"Would you please see to Professor Dumbledore while I take Draco to his room?"

At Zan's affirmation, Severus motioned to Draco to follow him and led the way up the two flights of stairs and through a maze of corridors to the small room decorated in navy-blue on the top floor. Draco walked swiftly behind Severus and when they finally reached their destination, he looked about the room with an unreadable expression. His lips tightened slightly but he had the sense not to complain aloud.

Fortunately for him, Severus thought dryly.

Draco turned to face him. "Severus, I...I wanted to thank you for letting me come here instead of Azkaban."

Severus inclined his head. "You are welcome, Draco. But you should be aware that Harry had the final word in allowing you here."

Draco stared in amazement. "Pot-? I mean, Harry let me come here?"

"Yes, he did. He is the one you need to thank." Severus looked away from Draco's incredulous gaze and motioned to the room. "This will be your room while you stay here. That door on the far wall leads to your bathroom. Once we retire for the evenings you are not to leave these rooms until morning, unless there is an emergency. Is that understood?"

Draco hesitated, but then gave a single nod. "Yes, sir."

"I assume you've had dinner?" Severus asked.

Draco nodded again. "Yes, sir."

"Then you are to unpack and prepare for bed. I will be back later to discuss your schedule and responsibilities."

Severus swept away without waiting to see Draco's response. At the end of the corridor, he paused and turned back to raise his wand and murmur a low incantation before heading on his way On the floor below he stopped by Harry's room. His son was curled up on a window seat in his sitting room, leaning back against the wall with his knees drawn up to his chest. He held an open book propped against his knees, but was staring out the window at the darkening sky.

Before Severus could speak, Harry looked around at him.

"They're here," Harry said.

It was a statement rather than a question, but Severus answered anyway. "Yes. Albus is waiting for us downstairs in the parlour."

Harry set the book down and came to join him. He did not mention the other boy, but Severus told him anyway, "I took Draco up to his room with instructions to stay there."

Harry was silent for a moment before asking, "And there are monitoring charms on his room?"

"Yes, I just set them," Severus replied.

"Does he know?"

"No, I decided not to tell him. I want to see if Draco will obey of his own accord," Severus said.

Harry cast him a sidelong glance. "Very Slytherin of you, Dad."

"I will take that as a compliment." Severus gave a small shrug. "Of course Draco ought to know me well enough to suspect some such thing, if he stops to think about it."

They headed downstairs to the parlour to find the headmaster sitting in a stuffed armchair and sipping a glass of brandy.

"Harry, how are you? I hope you've been able to enjoy your afternoon back home," Dumbledore said.

Harry felt a tiny flash of the earlier resentment he had felt towards Dumbledore for leaving him with the Dursleys, but he did believe that the headmaster had truly believed it was for the best so he tried to push his bitterness away. "I have, sir. Thank you. Dad and I went flying this afternoon."

Harry sank down on the sofa as his father crossed the room to a tall cabinet. Severus poured a second glass of brandy for himself and a butterbeer for Harry. Then he came back to join them, handing Harry his drink and sitting beside him.

"Oh? That sounds delightful. I know Gryffindor will miss its Seeker in the next Quidditch game," Dumbledore responded.

Harry wondered if the headmaster had mentioned Quidditch in a deliberate attempt to entice him back to Hogwarts. It was possible, but he wasn't sure. In any case, it wouldn't work. Not even for Quidditch would he go back and face everyone at school.

But it did give him an opening to ask about his friends.

"I'll miss playing, sir, but I just can't go back. I'm sorry." Harry looked at Dumbledore beseechingly. "I really will miss everything though, especially being with my friends. I know it's not really school policy, but I wondered if maybe...if their parents said it was all right...if maybe you would let them come here to visit on the weekends sometimes? Please?"

"I think we could work something out, assuming that their parents agree, of course," Dumbledore said easily.

Harry gave him a genuine smile. "Thank you, sir."

Dumbledore smiled back and inclined his head. "You are very welcome, Harry. It is the least I can do."

They sipped their drinks in silence for a few minutes before Dumbledore spoke again.

"Severus, I know that you will wish to continue our search for a way to counteract the slavery spell. As all the materials are at Hogwarts, it will probably be easier if you come back there in the evenings."

Severus nodded. "Yes, I will, but I want to stay at home for a few days first, just to make certain that things are going smoothly here."

He didn't mention Draco by name, but Harry knew that he meant he wanted to be sure that Harry would be all right alone with Draco in the same house. Harry wasn't sure he liked that idea either, so he was glad that Severus recognized it could be difficult for him.

Dumbledore obviously understood the unspoken concerns too. He looked over at Harry and said, "Harry, you could come along as well if you wish. You could help us with our research, or you could study. I'm assuming that Severus will continue your education and give various assignments. But in any case, we'll be in my office and sitting room so you wouldn't have to see anyone else. Or perhaps we could arrange for you to visit with your friends then, too."

Harry nodded eagerly. "That would be brilliant, sir!" He glanced at his father. "That would be all right with you, wouldn't it, Dad?"

"Of course," Severus agreed. "So then Harry and I will come to Hogwarts on Monday evening."

There was another brief silence and then Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I'm sure you plan to continue Harry's education at home, Severus?"

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Why no, Albus, I hadn't. Education is over-rated, don't you think? I believe we should allow children to squander their time with idle amusements instead."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Ah, Severus, I'm going to miss your dry humour."

"Seeing as how we'll be working together in the evenings, I don't think you'll have to suffer for long," Severus responded.

Harry laughed and his father shot him a wry glance. "Am I entertaining you?"

"Yes." Harry leaned against him comfortably.

"Incorrigible brat." But Severus' tone was mild and he patted his son's knee.

Harry just laughed again.

Dumbledore beamed at them with an ‘I-always-knew-this-should-happen' expression.

Severus scowled at him. "Smug self-satisfaction is not a good look for you, Albus."

"Why, Severus, I don't know what you mean." Dumbledore was all wide-eyed innocence. But he quickly became serious again. "Returning to my original point, though, I had expected that you would tutor Harry. But, if you don't mind my asking, what of Draco? Do you think he should be tutored as well, or should his day be entirely consumed with chores?"

"I had planned for Draco to spend some time studying each day," Severus responded.

"But not with me," Harry said quickly, suddenly anxious again.

"No, not with you," his father reassured him. He turned back to Dumbledore. "I will need to work out a schedule, but I shall come up with a separate time to supervise Draco's education as well."

"That will take up a considerable amount of your time, tutoring first Harry and then Draco, won't it?" Dumbledore asked.

Severus looked at him sharply, his black eyes narrowed. "What are you leading up to, Albus?"

"Just that I have an acquaintance whose time is currently unoccupied, and I believe he could be a great help to you in instructing Harry and Draco," Dumbledore replied nonchalantly.

"I do not require any assistance," Severus said firmly.

At the same instance Dumbledore added, "And I thought that Harry might enjoy seeing an old friend again."

Harry sat up straight, almost spilling the rest of his butterbeer. "Remus? Did you mean Remus, sir?"

"I did indeed," the headmaster told him. He glanced over at Severus, whose pale face had tightened with disapproval. "But of course if you do not wish it, Severus...."

"Yes, you're very concerned with my wishes, aren't you?" Severus retorted. "As you so thoughtfully mentioned Lupin in Harry's presence."

"It's all right if you don't want him to come here, Dad," Harry said in a small voice. He did want to see Remus again, sort of. But he was also nervous about it. He had not seen or heard from Remus in months, not since the battle at the Department of Mysteries last spring when Sirius had died. Another small part of him was afraid to see Remus, because if he blamed Harry for Sirius' death, that would be so painful and Harry didn't know if he could take much more right now.

Even more, he was fond of Remus, but the man did have a habit of disappearing from Harry's life for months at a time. Harry liked him, but he couldn't really depend on Remus, not like he could depend on his father. Severus was always there for him, caring for him, protecting him, loving him. And Harry loved him too, with all his heart. He liked Remus, but he loved his father. There was no question of where his loyalty lay, and if Severus didn't want to allow Remus to come to Prince Hall, then Harry would abide by his wishes.

Severus studied him carefully and then said, "If you wish to see Lupin, Harry, it can be arranged."

He turned to Dumbledore. "I'm sure Albus will be happy to allow the use of his rooms at Hogwarts if we decide to have Lupin assist in tutoring. But we have only just returned, and Draco is here now as well. I suggest we wait a bit and let things settle down before we make a decision on whether Lupin's presence is needed."

"Whatever you wish," Dumbledore agreed easily.

"All right," Harry agreed. He studied his half-empty glass of butterbeer, wondering whether he really wanted to see Remus again or not. It was all so confusing. Well, his father was right. There was no need to make a decision right away. There was enough to be going on with already.

They finished their drinks and soon afterwards Dumbledore left to return to the school. It really wasn't very late, but Harry found that he was exhausted and when Severus asked if he wanted to read or play a game, he declined and headed back upstairs to bed. As he climbed the stairs, he wondered briefly what he would do if he happened to encounter Draco Malfoy, but there was no sign of the blond boy. Apparently Draco was following Severus' orders to stay in his room, for now at least.

Harry was so tired that he decided he would take his shower in the morning and just hurriedly changed to pyjamas before crawling into his huge four-poster bed and burrowing under the blankets. Despite the tensions and upheaval of the day...or perhaps because of them...Harry fell asleep almost as soon as his head touched the pillow.

Downstairs, Severus went to the library and sat down at the mahogany desk. He took several sheets of parchment from a drawer and began planning. It was a couple of hours later when he finally sat back and read over his work. One sheet of parchment consisted of a list of daily chores for Draco. There were several other sheets of tentative lesson schedules and outlines.

Severus sighed as he perused them. Albus had been right. Tutoring both of the boys separately was going to take most of his day and he didn't like that. Besides keeping him busy it meant that he wouldn't have much free time to spend with Harry. But he would never force Draco's presence on his son so tutoring them together was not an option. Perhaps he should consider letting Lupin help. But if he did, the werewolf could do his part at Hogwarts. He was not setting foot at Prince Hall.

Well, not unless Harry really wanted it, anyway. Much as he despised Lupin, Severus would not deny his son the chance to see him. He had a feeling that Harry had allowed Draco to come to Prince Hall partially out of concern for his father. Severus would have never pressured Harry into giving Draco this opportunity and he was serious about putting Harry's needs first, but he still felt that Harry had been thinking of him when he had agreed to bring Draco here. And if that was true, it would be petty and hard-hearted to refuse to let Harry visit with Lupin. Severus had to admit that he had been petty and vindictive in the past, but he was working on changing. He wanted to be a better person than that, for Harry and for himself.

But there was no need to worry over Lupin just yet.

Severus took the list of chores and left the library, heading up to the top floor to Draco's room. He briefly considered knocking on the closed door, but then simply opened it and strode in.

"Draco, I have..." Severus abruptly checked himself as he realized that the room was dim. In the light from the hall and from the moonlight that spilled through the window, he could see that Draco was already in bed, curled on his side beneath the navy and white patterned quilt. The boy's eyes were closed and he was breathing deeply and evenly.

Severus watched him thoughtfully. He was not certain if Draco was truly sleeping or if he was putting on an act, but whichever it was, Severus decided he would wait and speak with him in the morning.

He turned and glided away, silently closing the door behind him.

***

The sky was misty-blue and a pale distant sun hovered above the horizon when Harry opened his eyes the next morning. For a second he felt confused and disoriented, but then it all came rushing back. Everyone knew about the slavery spell. He and Severus were at Prince Hall. Draco Malfoy was there, too, because Harry was ridiculously soft-hearted. But at least he didn't have to see Malfoy or have anything to do with him. And he wasn't. He was just going to enjoy being at home, safely away from all the questions and sneers and pitying looks. He wasn't going to have to face any of that, not here.

The tall grey grass of the moor waved in the wind and wispy clouds floated across the sky at a brisk rate. The air on his face was cool and Harry was content to huddle under the warm cozy bedcovers for a while.

But finally he decided to brave the early morning chill and threw back the covers. He hurried over to his wardrobe and quickly selected clothes for the day: a plaid shirt in muted colours, a thick olive-green jumper to wear over it, jeans, underwear and socks. Carrying the stack of clothing in one arm, he grabbed his glasses from the night table as well, and headed to his bathroom to shower and dress.

The warm water pouring over him felt luxurious and Harry lingered in the shower for a time. After finally getting out and dressing, he performed dental charms on his teeth and struggled to brush his hair into some semblance of order.

Harry grimaced at himself in the mirror, wishing for about the five-hundredth time that he had more manageable hair. But then again his father...his birth father, James...had had the same perpetually-mussed hair, and everyone had always said how handsome he was. Harry himself thought that James was quite good-looking in the photos that he had seen.

Everyone always said that Harry looked just like him, too, and Harry could definitely see the resemblance. Yet he never felt that he himself was handsome. On the contrary, he always felt like a mess. He tilted his head as he studied his reflection.

His dark hair was messy, but it was thick and shiny. His skin was a little pale, but it wasn't spotty at all. His face was thin and of course there were the glasses, but his eyes were a nice bright green.

Was it possible that perhaps he was a little bit more handsome than he thought? Maybe girls wouldn't mind his hair or the glasses. After all, James apparently had been considered a good catch by the girls.

But no, he was still short and scrawny, and even if he ever grew taller and filled out, nothing would change the fact that he was a slave. No girl in her right mind would want to date a slave.

That was just the plain hard truth, and Harry would just have to accept it.

He set the hairbrush down on the counter and turned away from the mirror. He was wearing his glasses now, but his vision blurred nonetheless and his throat ached from the painful lump that had lodged in it.

Blinking the tears away, Harry took a deep breath and headed back to his bedroom. It was almost time for breakfast. He needed to put on his brown loafers and go downstairs.

But as he crossed through the doorway, Harry abruptly froze and stared.

Draco Malfoy was standing in his bedroom.

For just a second Harry wondered if he were dreaming. He simply could not believe that even Draco Malfoy would have the nerve to show up in his bedroom, after all that had happened. But there he was...every strand of his white-blond hair in place, his silver eyes unreadable, dressed in a striped shirt, a light blue jumper, and khaki trousers.

"Get out," Harry said between gritted teeth.

For an instant Draco's expression became defensive, but then that faded and he just seemed uncertain. "I just came to see what you wanted me to do."

"I want you to get out of my room and stay out of my sight," Harry told him in a low dangerous voice. He could feel months of pain and despair and rage bubbling up inside him, threatening to break through his veneer of control at any second. And it just might, if he had to look at Draco Malfoy's pale pointy face much longer.

"But I have to serve you! If I don't, they'll send me to Azkaban and..." the blond boy began desperately.

But Harry was beyond listening.

"GET OUT!" He screamed. And then his wand was in his hand, pointed at Draco.

The other boy took a swift step backwards, holding his hands up before him. "All right, I'm going. But you have to tell Severus that I tried to..."

"I DON'T HAVE TO DO ANYTHING, YOU DAMNED...!"

"What's going on in here?" Severus' sharp voice cut through Harry's tirade. He stepped through the doorway, took everything in at a glance, and ordered, "Draco, leave. Return to your room now."

Draco looked at him and started to speak, but then abruptly stopped and gave a crisp nod. He spun on his heel and walked out of the room, leaving father and son alone.

"It's all right, Harry. Put your wand down and tell me what happened," Severus said quietly as he moved to his son's side.

Harry laid his wand on his night table with a shaking hand, but his emotions were so tumultuous and overwhelming that they demanded some release. Harry abruptly snatched up the lamp that also stood on the night table and flung it at the mirror on the far wall. There was a satisfying shatter as hundreds of glass shards fell to the floor. Expecting his father to reprimand him, Harry lifted his chin defiantly. He was not sorry. But then his face crumpled and he began to sob. He sank down on the edge of his bed, suddenly feeling weak in the knees, wrapped his arms around himself, and sobbed and sobbed.

Then Severus was sitting beside him and his arms were around Harry, holding him close. He didn't say anything but just held him and let him cry. Harry turned to him, pressed his face to his father's shoulder and grabbed onto Severus' shirt. Harry didn't know how much time had passed before he finally grew still and leaned against his father, feeling limp and worn out. He only knew he felt as if he had cried for hours and that he just wanted to crawl back into bed and stay there.

Severus' hand lightly stroked through his hair. "What happened, child?"

Harry sighed. Even talking seemed to take a lot of effort. "I was in the bathroom, getting dressed and all, and when I came out he was here. I guess I sort of lost it."

"Yes, I would say so," Severus agreed, his voice a dry rumble. "But I cannot blame you."

He pressed a kiss to the top of Harry's head and Harry relaxed against him even more, listening to his father's steady heartbeat through his soft black undershirt. He glanced at his father, realizing that Severus had not yet put on his robes, that he was wearing only a shirt and trousers. And bedroom slippers, Harry noted as his gaze slipped down to the floor.

"I'm sorry for bothering you," he apologized.

His father gave him a gentle shake. "You know you do not have to apologize. We're well beyond that point, aren't we, Harry?"

Harry smiled a little in spite of himself. "Yeah," he whispered. He took a deep breath and added, "Thanks, Dad, for coming and...everything."

"You do not have to thank me either, foolish child," Severus scolded lightly.

"Hmm, okay, so I don't thank you then," Harry replied with a ghost of a smile.

Severus just rolled his eyes. They were quiet for a few minutes and then Harry looked up at him and asked, "Why did he come in here, Dad? All along I've said that I didn't want to see him and then he comes barging in here, without even asking. Why can't he just leave me alone? That's all I want. If he can't even do that, maybe we should send him away."

"We can certainly send Draco away, if that's what you wish," Severus said. "But to answer your question, I do think it's likely that he did not know that you had specifically stated that you did not want him around you."

He sighed. "I intended to tell Draco to stay away from you last night. I was going to go over our rules and give him some assignments to complete, but when I went to his room he was already sleeping and I decided to speak with him this morning instead. But apparently I was not quick enough."

Harry thought it over in silence. He supposed that if Severus had not warned Draco, and Dumbledore probably hadn't either, then the other boy wouldn't have known that he was supposed to keep away from Harry. Unless he could have figured it out for himself. It shouldn't have taken a genius to know that Harry would not welcome him.

But when Harry mentioned this to his father, Severus shrugged and said, "I imagine Draco was thinking that you would relish the opportunity to order him about. He would, if your positions were reversed...at least in the beginning."

"What do you mean, in the beginning?" Harry asked.

"Draco is not a monster. In some ways, he's been spoiled, and in others, abused and neglected. He was taught to value all the wrong things in life and raised by parents who were not fit to have a pet, much less a child," Severus replied slowly. "Sixteen years of that upbringing has damaged him, definitely, but Draco is not completely heartless. I tried, as much as I was able, to instill some morals in him, and at times I've seen flashes of compassion and generosity in him."

He glanced down at Harry's disbelieving face and gave a small grimace. "You have not seen any of that, I know, and Draco's behavior towards you has been particularly deplorable. You certainly have every right to be angry and to dislike him."

"I am angry and I can't stand him," Harry said firmly.

"Well, you do not have see him again," Severus assured him. "We can send Draco away this morning, if that is your wish."

Harry considered. But he was calmer now and thought that if Draco truly had not been told to stay out of Harry's sight that perhaps he had been trying to fulfill his duty by coming to Harry's room. Hadn't Draco even said something like that? Harry had been much too upset at the sight of the blond boy standing in his bedroom to pay any attention earlier, but he did think he recalled Draco trying to say something like that.

"Tell him to stay out of my room and away from me. If he comes near me again, I am going to send him away," Harry told his father.

Severus nodded. "I will."

He gave Harry a last squeeze and then stood, pointing his wand to the pile of glass fragments on the floor. "Reparo! Now, why don't you wash your face while I fetch my robes, and we'll go down for breakfast?"

***

After a meal of eggs and ham croissants Harry turned to his father and asked, "Can we fly again, like we did yesterday?"

Severus nodded, "Yes, but I need to speak with Draco first. Go fetch the brooms and I'll be out soon."

"All right." And Harry hurried upstairs.

Severus followed, climbing the extra stairs to the top floor and went on to Draco's small room at the end of the far corridor. Once again he did not bother to knock but simply opened the door and strode in. Draco was sitting on the bed, looking down as his fingers nervously plucked at a loose thread on the bedcovers.

He jumped when Severus walked in. "Severus, I only went to see what he wanted me to do, I swear it!"

"From now on, you are to stay away from Harry unless he specifically tells you otherwise," Severus commanded.

A look of relief passed over Draco's face quickly before he managed to hide it. "Yes, sir."

"In the mornings, you are to report to the kitchen by 6:30. You will eat breakfast, as well as your other meals, there with Norie and Zan," Severus continued.

Draco's mouth dropped open. "With house elves?"

Severus' lips thinned. "Yes, and you will remember that Norie and Zan are free elves and I consider them part of my family."

Draco could not quite hide his incredulous disgust, but he only said, "Yes, sir."

Severus gave him a hard stare before going on. "After you eat, Norie and Zan will give you your assignments for the day. You are to give your best effort. I will not tolerate any slacking or half-hearted work. You should be busy completing your chores in the mornings. After lunch I will check your work to be certain that it is satisfactory and then I will tutor you in your studies until tea time, at which point you will continue working on your chores. After dinner you will help Norie and Zan clean the kitchen. Then you will return here and study until your bedtime at ten o'clock."

"But we don't have to go to bed til eleven at Hogwarts," Draco protested.

Severus arched an eyebrow. "I think you'll be glad enough to go to bed at ten, after a day of hard work. You do have another option if these rules are unsatisfactory."

Draco quickly shook his head. "No...no, it's fine."

"Am I correct in assuming that you have not yet had your breakfast this morning?" Severus asked.

"Yes, sir. I mean, I haven't eaten," the boy stammered.

"Then I will take you to the kitchen and Norie will show you how to cook your breakfast. After you've eaten, Zan will show you about the house and grounds so you will be able to find your way around. As this is Sunday, we will not be studying. You will spend the rest of the day working in the gardens. New mulch needs to be put down in the flower beds."

"But I don't have my wand," Draco told him. "The headmaster took it."

"I have your wand and I will allow you to use it during lessons if it is necessary," Severus replied evenly. "You will not need it today."

"But..." Draco began, a look of horrified revulsion crossing his face.

Severus cut him off simply by turning and starting for the door. He glanced over his shoulder. "I will wait in the hall if you wish to change into work clothes."

"But I don't have any work clothes!"

"Then I suppose we'd better go over clothes cleaning charms in your lessons tomorrow," Severus said dryly.

***

Harry and Severus spent part of the day flying and, as always, Harry felt better after a few hours zooming around on his Firebolt. At some point in the mid-morning, while they were racing after the snitch and it had led them around to the back of the manor, he did notice Zan and Draco walking out to the gardens, the blond boy pushing a Muggle-style wheelbarrow loaded down with several heavy bags.

Hmm, Harry had never noticed a wheelbarrow or any other Muggle tools about Prince Hall, but he supposed that it would be simple enough for Zan to conjure one up, if he wanted.

Harry felt a small jolt of pain at the sight but it was not as sharp as usual, and when a flash of gold darted by, tantalizingly close to his fingertips, he dismissed thoughts of Draco and turned his attention back to chasing the snitch.

Later that day he and his father settled down in the library to read. From his armchair, Harry could look up and see the gardens from the windows. Now and again he would catch a glimpse of Draco, on his knees and using a spade to spread mulch around the withered rosebushes, or pushing the wheelbarrow over to another spot. The blond boy was too far away for Harry to see his face clearly, but he was obviously becoming more and more disheveled and dirty. Even from a distance, there were obvious mud and grass stains on the once-fine jumper and trousers.

At first Harry couldn't help but feel a smug sense of justification, but as the afternoon wore on, memories began to flash through his mind, memories of himself toiling for hours in his aunt and uncle's yard, having nothing to wear but dirty, stained castoffs. As much as he despised Draco Malfoy...and he did, no mistake about that...he began to feel guilty about the way he and his father were relaxing and enjoying themselves while someone else worked so hard. He couldn't help it. It was too much like the way the Dursleys had lounged about while Harry frantically tried to complete his endless list of chores.

"Harry? Is something wrong?" His father's voice cut through his thoughts.

"What?" Harry realized that he was staring blankly into space and quickly turned. Severus was seated in a nearby armchair, studying him in concern.

"Oh, no, not really." Harry shrugged. "It's just that I was thinking about the Dursleys...." His voice trailed off.

Severus' lips twisted in a sour grimace, as if the mere mention of the Dursleys left a bad taste in his mouth. "They can never hurt you again."

Harry nodded. "I know, but I was just thinking about how I used to have to work for them all the time, and how Draco is working for us, and I don't know...I just feel kind of bad." He shrugged again.

Severus set his book down on a side table and leaned forward, studying his son intently. "Harry, it's not the same thing at all. You never did anything to deserve the treatment you received from the Dursleys. They abused you, not because of anything that you did, but because they fear and despise magic and you embodied that to them. But you never, never deserved to be punished or mistreated in any way simply because you were born a wizard. The Dursleys abused you because they are fearful, bigoted people. It was not your fault and you did not deserve it. Do you understand that?"

Harry was quiet for a while, his eyes dropped downwards. Severus remained silent, waiting for him to answer. Finally Harry looked up at him again.

"I know it in my head," he said in a small voice. "But sometimes I still feel like it was my fault. I must have done something, to make my own family hate me."

Severus reached across the short distance between them to take his hand.

"I'm your family, child, and I love you with all my heart," he said softly.

Harry's eyes grew bright and he sniffed before he was able to give Severus a shaky smile. "I love you with all my heart, too, Dad."

Severus squeezed his hand before letting go and continuing. "But Harry, you are not alone, remember. My blood relatives hated and abused me as well. I'm afraid that I was not as loving and generous as you are, and for a time in my life I embraced darkness. But the hate and abuse began when I was only a small child, and I did not deserve it then either."

"Of course you didn't! You were just a little kid," Harry exclaimed indignantly.

Severus' dark eyes gleamed as he nodded. "That's exactly my point, Harry. You went to live at Privet Drive when you were only a baby. You've told me that your earliest memories are of being locked in that dark cupboard under the stairs, that you were cooking meals, cleaning the house, and working in the yard by the time you were in primary school. You were only a small child too, and there is nothing that you could have done to deserve that kind of treatment."

Harry hesitated. "I suppose so."

"Absolutely so," Severus said firmly. "Harry, what if all that had not happened to you? What if it had happened to some other child? What if I were telling you about another child, a mere baby not yet two years old, whose parents died and was sent to live with an aunt and uncle? What if I told you that those relatives forced the toddler to live in a cupboard, that they denied him food and proper clothing while showering their own child with gifts? What if I told you that that little boy was forced to work long hours keeping their house and yard, as soon as he was able to clutch a cleaning rag? What if I told you that the aunt and uncle slapped and pushed the little boy, and allowed their own son to beat him? Would you think that the child deserved it? Would you think that he should spend the rest of his life blaming himself because his aunt and uncle were cruel idiots?"

Harry closed his eyes and shook his head in a silent ‘no'.

"And so you should not blame yourself. None of it was your fault. I promise you that," Severus finished quietly.

Harry opened his eyes. "Thank you, Dad."

They were quiet for a little while. Then Severus cleared his throat.

"As to comparing your past with Draco's situation, there is another point besides the fact that you were completely innocent while Draco actually has done things to deserve punishment. The Dursleys' expectations from you were deliberately unrealistic. They assigned far too many chores for you to possibly complete because they wanted an excuse to berate and further punish you. I'm certain that Draco is feeling quite overwhelmed and abused right now, too, but that is only because he's never had to do any physical labor. I assigned him enough work to keep him busy each day, but it is not an impossible list to complete, and so long as he is working hard and putting in an effort, I will not punish him if he does not complete everything. And of course, he will receive three meals a day and have adequate time to sleep at night."

"I do not think you need to feel any guilt, Harry, but if you do, you could always offer to help Draco," Severus finished.

In spite of himself, Harry laughed and shook his head. "I don't feel that guilty."

"Good." Severus smiled and they turned back to their books.

Harry and Severus started lessons on Monday morning. Immediately after breakfast they went to the library and Severus enlarged one of the small tables so that there was plenty of room for Harry to spread out his books and sheets of parchment. They spent the rest of the morning working on Transfiguration and Charms.

Shortly before noon Severus said, "That's enough for now, I think. After lunch I want you to read chapter seven in your Potions text. Then you may have the rest of the afternoon to spend as you please, but a twelve-inch essay summarizing Golpalott's Fifth Law is due Friday. Tomorrow we'll begin brewing the anti-dote for the aconite poison."

"And work on Defense?" Harry asked eagerly.

Severus nodded. "And Herbology, too, if Pomona can spare some belladonna and knotgrass."

They put away their materials and went to the dining room for lunch, going separate ways afterwards with Severus heading back to the library to begin another tutoring session with Draco.

"Dad," Harry called after him.

Severus paused and looked back at him.

"You'll be finished by four, won't you?" Harry wanted to know.

"Yes, we'll have tea together if you want," his father told him.

"Then can we fly again?"

Severus hesitated before slowly nodding. "Yes, we'll fly again, but as much as I enjoy it, Harry, I'm afraid that after today we may have to limit our flying to Friday afternoons. I need to spend some time preparing for our lessons. I have never taught any subject other than Potions and I want to be certain that I am doing my best for you. I won't have your education lacking because we left Hogwarts. And if we're going back to the school after dinner most evenings, then that only leaves the time between tea and dinner for me to review the other subjects and prepare."

It suddenly occurred to Harry that his father was taking on a lot of extra work by assuming the responsibility of his education, and he felt guiltily unhappy about causing Severus trouble.

"I'm sorry," he said softly.

But Severus immediately shook his head and came back down the hall to stand close. He rested his hand on Harry's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Nonsense. There's nothing for you to be sorry for. Indeed, I am happy that I can be here for you. You've given me so much joy and I want to do all that I can to help you. Of course I do; I'm your father."

"Thanks, Dad." Harry wondered briefly how many times he had said that over the past couple of days, but he was so grateful to Severus for letting him come back home, for protecting and supporting him, ...heck, for all the things he had done for Harry these past months. Words really couldn't even begin to express his feelings, but he hoped his father understood anyway.

Severus' black eyes glimmered. "You are welcome. Now, go and read that chapter."

"Yes, sir!" Harry said smartly. He saluted and then dodged the playful smack his father sent in his direction, laughing a little as he ran upstairs to his room.

Severus' lips quirked upwards in a smile of his own as he watched his son; a smile that faded when he turned and walked back to the library.

Draco was waiting for him, standing inside the doorway, his expression a mixture of sulkiness and apprehension.

Severus motioned him to sit at the table. "Good afternoon, Draco." His voice was firm, but politely pleasant.

Draco glanced at him uncertainly. "Good afternoon," he mumbled.

Severus flicked his wand and a portrait suddenly appeared, standing upright on the table before Draco. "Tell me your impressions of this portrait."

The blond boy looked at him blankly. "What?"

Severus gave a wave of his hand. "Your parents were both art connoisseurs. I'm certain they've taught you something about the value of art. So I would like to hear your impression of this painting."

Draco still looked doubtful, but he knew better than to continue questioning Severus. He turned his attention to the portrait.

"Hmm, it's stationary so obviously it was painted before the Animation Charm was invented in the 900's. Perhaps by Marcelli? Antonia Marcelli was one of the great early artists, though I don't recognize this one."

Draco leaned forward, closer to the portrait, as he became more interested. His voice changed, losing its hesitancy and becoming more certain. He reached out with his right hand, one finger almost, but not quite, touching the painting as he discussed particular elements.

"It's rather intriguing. The woman in the portrait has a reserved posture with her arms folded like that, but then she has such a direct gaze. The armrest of the chair serves as a divider. It creates the impression of space between the model and the observer. Her expression is ambiguous, but kind and serene. You feel drawn to her, but at the same time, you hesitate."

"Look at the curve of her hands, that's magnificent. There's masterful use of light and shadows. Her face is translucent, which is a direct contrast to the darker elements of her hair and veil. And the landscape behind her...there's incredible perception of depth and volume. Overall, it's masterful, with subtle modeling of forms and the impression of harmony. I can't believe I've never seen it before."

Draco sat back and looked up at Severus. "It's a fascinating portrait, sir, obviously created by a genius. If not Marcelli, then I would guess Michel Landry."

Severus shook his head. "This portrait is called the Mona Lisa. Well, this one is not the original, of course, but it is a rather good copy. The original was painted by Leonardo da Vinci, who was, in fact, a genius. He was one of the greatest artists and scientists that the world has ever known. He was also a Muggle."

Draco stared at him and then shook his own head. "That's impossible! No Muggle created that."

"I assure you, one did," Severus said blandly. He gave another flick with his wand. The painting disappeared, returning to its spot in the upstairs gallery, while a tall thick book soared from a bookshelf and landed neatly on the table before them.

"But Muggles are stupid and...boorish and, and...," Draco insisted.

"And yet they created the Mona Lisa, and this, and this." Severus flipped through several pages of the book, showing great works of art by Michelangelo, Raphael, and other great artists of the Renaissance. He pushed the book across the table towards Draco. "Look through it for a few minutes."

Draco frowned, but did as he was told. Severus watched as his frown slowly changed to a look of bewilderment. But when the boy finally looked back up, his expression was mulishly stubborn.

"This book is wrong. Muggles could not possibly have done these things. They must have been wizards in disguise for some reason."

Severus shrugged. "You are not the first pureblooded wizard who has insisted on that theory, but extensive research has yet to show that there was one drop of magical blood in those particular artists."

Draco did not look at all convinced. "I thought we were going to be studying, sir, not looking at art books."

"Consider it a version of Muggle Studies," Severus told him. "We're going to spend some time each day discussing notable achievements of the Muggle world, beginning with the great works of art."

Draco looked as if he were wondering whether time in Azkaban might be better than this fate after all.

"But why?" He demanded in horror.

Severus gazed at him, measuringly, for a long moment. "Ask me again in six months."

He straightened and deliberately made his expression and voice stern and slightly intimidating. "By Friday I want you to have read the first three chapters of this book. You will select two of the artists and write a twenty-four inch essay comparing similarities and differences in their styles and work. As I realize you will have limited time for homework, I will allow you half an hour of class time to work on it. Begin now."

He watched as the boy worked, noting when Draco winced as he gripped his quill and began writing notes.

"Hold out your hands," Severus abruptly ordered.

Draco glanced at him, unsure again, before obeying.

Severus quickly performed a simple healing charm and the blisters on the boy's fingers vanished. Draco's eyes widened, as if he were surprised at Severus' consideration.

Then he ducked his head and mumbled, "Thank you, sir."

Severus inclined his head. "You are welcome. If you develop more blisters, come to me or to Norie or Zan. One of us will heal them for you."

"Thank you," Draco repeated quietly.

He dropped his head, returning to his notes, and Severus went to sit in a nearby chair, reviewing his notes on Charms until the half-hour was complete.

***

After dinner Harry and Severus went to Hogwarts, flooing to Dumbledore's office. They stepped out of the fireplace, first Severus and then Harry, into the warm cozy room. Fawkes was perched on his bronze stand by the headmaster's desk and Dumbledore himself, in bright emerald robes today, was standing nearby. Two other people were there also, and they immediately threw themselves at Harry as soon as he had stepped into the room.

Harry's face lit up in a huge grin as he recognized them. "Mione! Ron!"

Severus shook his head in bemusement as he watched the three teens greet one another as if they had been parted for years, but when they drew apart he smiled at them, realizing that he was no longer simply tolerating the other children for Harry's sake, but that somewhere along the way he had actually grown fond of them.

"Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, it is good to see you again."

"Thank you, sir," they both chorused, and they smiled back at him.

"Harry, I am most pleased to see you as well," Dumbledore remarked. "Now, if you three young people would like to go into my sitting room, I'll have a tray of scones and cocoa sent up. You may talk freely and Severus and I can get to work."

So Harry, Ron, and Hermione went to the small adjoining room and seated themselves on the sofa and chairs. Sure enough, a silver tray appeared on the table, bearing three steaming cups of cocoa and honey and jam scones.

"Harry, have you been all right?" Hermione asked anxiously. "We've been worried about you."

Harry nodded. "It's okay, guys. You don't have to worry. I'm at home. I'm fine, just as long as I don't have see people."

Ron scowled, his open cheerful face uncharacteristically angry. "What about Malfoy? He's keeping away from you, isn't he? He'd better if he knows what's good for him."

Harry hesitated and Ron immediately noticed. "What? Has he done anything else to you? Harry, if you don't send that slimy little git away now..."

"Ron, stop. Just listen." So Harry told them about how Draco had shown up in his room Sunday morning, but that he and Severus believed that it had been a misunderstanding.

"I'm not so sure," Ron muttered darkly.

"He's stayed from me since then and if he doesn't, then I will send him away. And that's that," Harry replied. He took a sip of his cocoa and eyed his friends. He already knew the answer and he wasn't sure if he really wanted to talk about it, but for some reason he still felt compelled to ask.

"So, I guess everyone's been talking about...you know, the news?"

"Well, yeah, kind of," Hermione admitted.

Harry nodded glumly. "Yeah, I knew they would."

"Well, there's this news about you, and then both you and Professor Snape...and Malfoy...all disappear without a word. So yeah, people are sort of curious," Ron said.

"I bet," Harry agreed wryly. He had a suspicion that his friends were trying to play things down for his sake. But his slavery, and then the three of them disappearing, as Ron said, had to be the biggest news that had hit the school for some time. Probably causing more of a stir than even Voldemort's death had. Some of the students at school had been affected by the war, but for others, it had been more of a distant concern.

But everyone knew him, and Severus, and Draco Malfoy.

Hermione set her cup down and leaned towards him, laying her hand on top of his. "But Harry, most people are being really supportive of you. I mean, everyone's stunned and wants to know what happened, but most people are sympathetic. I haven't heard many of them being mean about it at all."

Ron nodded. "Yeah, just some of the Slytherins, and not even all of them. That Alec Morland and his mates came up to me today and he gave me a letter to give to you."

Ron reached into the pocket of his robes and pulled out a rather crumpled envelope, handing it to Harry.

"And there's a letter from all the Gryffindors and some of the other people in the DA, too." Hermione reached into her pocket and took out a much neater crisp envelope.

Harry opened the one from his housemates and the DA first.

Dear Harry,

We just wanted to tell you that we all miss you and wish you would come back to Hogwarts. We're like a big family and it's not the same without you. We don't care about that spell or anything, and you can count on all of us to stick with you. Just think about it, all right?

Your friends,

And then there were about fifty signatures attached, all of Gryffindor House and the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws who had been members of Dumbledore's Army.

Harry just stared at the parchment for a long time, before silently folding it, slipping the letter back inside its envelope, and tucking it away in his jeans pocket. He thought that when he returned home he would put it inside his photo album and keep it forever. He had spent too many years lonely and friendless not to treasure such a show of support.

"Harry, you will think about coming back, won't you?" Hermione asked in a soft voice.

It was difficult for Harry to speak, but he finally managed to clear his throat and answer.

"Not now, Hermione. I just can't. But maybe one day."

Hermione looked as if she wanted to push the issue, but instead she just took a deep breath and nodded.

Harry turned his attention to the other letter, the one from Alec Morland.

Hi, Harry,

Your friend Ron Weasley said he would give this letter to you, so I hope you get it. I guess the news, about you being a slave and all, is true since you and Professor Snape have left. I wish you hadn't gone though. It doesn't make any difference to me, or to a lot of people.

I just wanted to say that I really appreciate all that you did to help me, and that I remember what I said when you stopped Crabbe and Goyle from beating up on me...you know, about how I would always try to help people, too, if I could. So if you come back, I'll be on your side, too.

Thanks again,

Alec

P.S. Please tell Professor Snape that we all miss him too. Sinistra is taking over as Head of Slytherin now, and she's nice enough, but she's not as good as Professor Snape.

Harry smiled a little as he put Alec's letter away. He decided that he would save it too.

"So tell me what you did in class today," he said. "Dad was showing me some of the early spells for becoming an Animagus. He isn't one, but he said that he could teach me some of the early steps and that would be enough to see if I have the potential. If I do, he said he'd ask McGonagall to work with me in private. I don't think I do, though. None of the spells we did today caused any changes."

"Wouldn't that be great though?" Ron asked as he selected his third scone. "If we could be Animagi, like your dad and his friends?" He frowned, "I mean, your real dad...not that Professor Snape isn't your real dad too, I mean..."

"I know what you mean. My other dad," Harry assured him. He shrugged. "It'd be useful for being an Auror, but I just don't think I'm an animagus. Maybe you will be."

"Well, we're not beginning Animagus studies for another month," Hermione said. "We began transfiguring our hair to different colours today." She smiled. "You should have seen Lavendar and Parvati. I think it was the best time they've ever had in Transfiguration."

Suddenly Ron sat up straight. "Oh, we're about to forget the most important thing! Harry, my parents, and the Grangers, and Neville's gran, all sent letters today saying that we can go to Prince Hall on the weekends. Luna hasn't heard from her dad yet. She said he's probably busy writing about the Wrackspurt conspiracy, whatever that is, but if she doesn't hear from him soon she's going to firecall him."

"So you'll able to come Saturday? Awesome!" Harry exclaimed.

They continued talking about their studies and making plans for the weekend until Severus called that it was time to leave and Dumbledore said that Ron and Hermione needed to Floo back to Gryffindor Tower before curfew.

***

That set the pattern for the rest of the week. Every day was full and busy. Harry had his lessons with Severus in the morning, and then studied his texts and worked on homework assignments after lunch while Severus tutored Draco. He usually finished by mid-afternoon and then read or flew by himself since his father was either working with Draco or preparing their lessons. They did have tea together, and dinner, and then went to Hogwarts for a couple hours where Severus and Dumbledore were slowly working their way through the tremendous pile of materials that historians and archivists around the world had sent to the headmaster.

Harry enjoyed seeing his friends during the evenings. Ron and Hermione came every night, and Ginny, Neville, and Luna came sometimes too. They chatted and ate snacks in Dumbledore's small sitting room, and then Harry and Severus returned to Prince Hall and retired to bed soon afterwards. Harry saw glimpses of Draco now and then throughout the week as the other boy worked about the manor or headed to the library for his tutoring sessions, but neither of them spoke or acknowledged the other's presence, and Harry determinedly ignored him and went about his business.

Harry's friends, including Luna whose father had finally contacted Dumbledore giving permission for her to visit as well, Flooed to Prince Hall soon after breakfast on Saturday morning. They came through the parlour fireplace one by one.

Severus stood beside Harry and greeted them all politely. "Good morning. Thank you all for coming. Harry, have fun with your friends and if you should need anything, I will be brewing in the lab."

He nodded to them again and swept away.

Harry grinned at the others. "Yeah, thanks for coming. I'm really glad you were all able to."

"You know we wanted to come," Hermione replied while Ron said, "Sure thing, mate," and Neville and the other two girls also murmured assent.

They all just stood there for a moment.

"So what do you want to do?" Harry asked.

Ginny, Neville, and Luna had never been to Prince Hall before, of course, and Hermione suggested that Harry show them about first of all before they did anything else. So Harry led them around Prince Hall, inside and out, while the three newcomers gazed about in awe.

While they were walking through the gardens they spied Draco working a short distance away. He had finally finished putting down the new mulch and was now busy pruning some shrubbery.

Neville shook his head. "I can't believe it...Malfoy actually doing some work. Harry, you ought to get a photograph. I bet you could sell it for a lot of money."

"Forget money. You ought to frame it and hang it in a place of honor in your room," Ginny giggled. "Any time you felt down about something, you could just go look at the photo and it would cheer you right up."

"Let's go give him a hard time," Ron suggested, with a glint in his eye.

Harry frowned at him. He knew that normally Ron would never bully anyone or kick them while they were down, but right now his friend was particularly angry with Draco, mostly for Harry's own sake. And there had always been bad blood between the two, almost as much as between Harry and Draco, and the blond boy had certainly always sneered at the Weasleys for being poor. Harry couldn't really blame Ron for wanting to get back at Draco now that he had a chance.

But he couldn't help but remember himself at the Dursleys and he wasn't going to play Dudley's role, or allow his friends to either.

So Harry shook his head and said firmly, "No, leave him alone. He's not bothering us. Come on, I bet we can find enough extra brooms for everyone to fly, and then we can pack a picnic lunch and eat out on the moor."

Neville was quick to agree with him. "Sounds good. Let's go."

So they left the gardens and headed back up to the manor house to round up brooms. Harry didn't look behind, but if he had, he would have seen that Draco paused in his work and stared after him for several long moments, his silver eyes troubled and uncertain.

Harry had never liked Halloween.

When he had been small and living with the Dursleys, it had been just one more disappointment, watching Dudley dress up in elaborate costumes and binge on sweets while he himself was denied any fun. And then after he had learned of how Voldemort had killed his parents, he could not even imagine celebrating on the anniversary of their deaths.

There had always been a festival at Hogwarts, the Halloween Feast and a masquerade party in the Great Hall, but Harry had never gone to it. He and Ron and Hermione had always remained in the Gryffindor common room, playing card games or reading or just sitting quietly together. For once he had explained his feelings to his friends, Ron and Hermione had loyally chosen to stay at his side. During their first few years at school, Fred and George had brought food from the Feast back up to them, always making a show of the difficulties and dangers they had risked to do so. Later on, once Harry and his friends had discovered for themselves how easy it was to get food from the house elves, they had simply asked Dobby to send up a platter.

But Ron and Hermione had never left him alone, even though at first Harry had felt guilty and had urged them to go on to the party. But they had always insisted on staying with him, and Harry had been grateful.

As Halloween approached this year, Harry couldn't help but find himself thinking of James and Lily more often. He remembered the things he had been told about them and seeing visions of them that awful night of the Third Task when Voldemort had come back to life.

Harry usually tried not to remember that evening; it had been one of the worst events of his life and he still sometimes had nightmares about it...but remembering how the visions of his parents had helped to save him was one thing that did make him feel a little better...not happy exactly, but he couldn't help feeling warm and emotional when he remembered their faces and voices, their obvious love for him.

During the week before Halloween Harry spent a lot of his free time looking back at their photographs and wondering about all the things that might have been, if only....

He couldn't help doing it, but he did feel guilty. After all, he had a father now and he wouldn't hurt Severus for anything. But it wasn't that he didn't want Severus; he just wished that he could have had all of his parents, and Sirius, too. In his dreams, he imagined them all living happily together. Of course Harry knew that that wouldn't have been likely. But since it was only in his imagination anyway, he indulged himself.

Besides, if he and Severus could reconcile and learn to love one another, it wouldn't have been completely impossible for James and Severus to make amends, would it? Harry liked to think that both of his fathers would love him enough to try, anyway.

He didn't think that Severus had noticed his melancholy mood...Harry had been careful not to mention anything or to let his father see him looking through his photograph album. He would never want Severus to think that he was unhappy with him.

But on the morning of October 31st, as they were eating breakfast, Severus remarked, "Harry, Albus has invited us to Hogwarts this evening for the festivities, if you are interested. I told him I was certain that you would not wish to attend, particularly as you never have before, but if you do, of course we can go."

Harry automatically shook his head. "Why does he keep trying to get me to go back to Hogwarts? He knows that I don't want to right now."

"One of Albus' flaws is that he convinces himself that he knows what is best for people and he cannot resist enticing them to go along with his wishes," Severus replied wryly. "He has become aware of this fault and is trying to do better, but old habits die hard, I suppose."

He took a sip of his coffee. "And I do believe that he actually misses us."

"But we see him almost every evening," Harry pointed out.

"But we're not at Hogwarts. I'm sure you know, Harry, that Albus considers us as something more than his employee and student. I believe he considers us almost as family. And he would like to keep his family close. I have to admit that I do understand that desire." Severus smiled at his son.

Harry smiled back at him. "Yeah, I guess I can too."

"Albus is truly concerned for you and wants you to be happy, as do I," Severus continued. "He knows that all of your friends would rally to your side and help you to face anyone who was inclined to harass you, and he believes that ultimately you will be happier if you return to school, rather than hide away from the world here."

"But I don't want to go back! I want to stay here," Harry protested. He looked at his father in panic.

"Calm yourself, child." Severus reached over to gently squeeze his shoulder. "You may stay here for as long as you wish, for the rest of your life if that's what you want. I promised that you would never have to leave against your will, didn't I?"

Harry took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes."

They resumed eating and were quiet for a few moments. Then Harry glanced at his father.

"Are you...are you disappointed in me?" He asked almost in a whisper. "I know I'm being a coward."

Severus laid down his silverware and took Harry's hands in his own, holding them lightly. "I could never be disappointed in you, son. You are a wonderful person, Harry. I am amazed and humbled by your compassion and generosity."

Spots of colour appeared in Severus' pale cheeks but he continued without pause. "You have inspired me to try to change and to be a better person. I only hope that one day I can be half as good as you are. I don't know that I will be, but I want to be the best that I can...for you, because you deserve someone much better than I am to be your father."

Harry could feel his own cheeks turning red. "I think you're pretty great now, Dad," he said softly.

Severus shook his head. "I have a long way to go yet, but thank you, son."

They ate in silence for a few minutes, both of them slightly embarrassed, but then Harry looked at his father. "How did you know that I never went to the party before?"

Severus smirked at him. "Did you think I wouldn't have noticed? I have always kept an eye on you after all, Harry."

Well, of course he had. Harry was surprised at himself for forgetting how Severus had always prowled around after him, from his first days at Hogwarts.

He wrinkled his nose at his father. "Yeah, the better to give me unfair detentions."

"Oh, I think you earned a few of them," Severus retorted. But then he looked sorrowful. "But I am sorry that I treated you so unfairly and unkindly all those years."

"I know, Dad. I wasn't trying to make you feel bad," Harry said earnestly.

Severus nodded. "I know."

He cleared his throat. "As a matter of fact, Harry, although I did certainly hand out unfair punishments at times, my primary reason for keeping such close watch over you was to ensure your safety. From your very first year, you were in danger and Hogwarts was not always the sanctuary it seemed to be."

"Yeah, no kidding," Harry agreed dryly. He sighed in relief. "But that's all over now and there's no danger anymore."

"No, there shouldn't be," Severus agreed after a moment.

Harry thought he sounded slightly reserved and he looked at his father, tilting his head quizzically. "There's not any danger anymore, is there?"

"Oh, there's no real threat that I know of," Severus replied. "But Dolohov and a few other Death Eaters have managed to evade capture, not to mention Greyback. You recall hearing of Fenrir Greyback, don't you?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, he's the one who attacked Remus," he said quietly. "And Draco and his mother, too."

"Yes, he has a long list of victims, I'm afraid," Severus concurred. "Albus and I spoke with Kingsley Shacklebolt after Draco told us of how they had attacked Malfoy Manor. Aurors did confirm his story, but there was no way of telling where the Death Eaters might have gone. There has been no trace of them since and they seem to have gone to ground. Nonetheless, it does no harm to be careful."

"But we're safe here, aren't we? We're under the Fidelius Charm," Harry pointed out.

Severus nodded. "Yes, we're perfectly safe here."

"Well, then, everything's good cause we're going to stay here." Harry started to take another bite of his scrambled eggs and then paused, his fork hovering in mid-air as he thought of his friends. He turned to Severus in sudden concern.

"What about the Weasleys and Hermione's family? Are they safe?"

"Yes, I believe so," Severus told him. "Albus has spoken with all of them and there are protective wards around both the Burrow and the Grangers' townhouse. They know to be careful."

"And I truly don't believe there's much cause for concern, Harry," he added. "I have a tendency to be a bit over-cautious, shall we say? But I do think everything is fine. Now finish up; we're late for lessons."

***

The day went by in the usual routine. Harry spent the morning in lessons with his father: an hour of brewing in the potions lab, then dueling with the dummy ‘Toby', and then tending to the belladonna plants that Professor Sprout had sent from Hogwarts. After lunch he studied for a Charms quiz that Severus was giving on Friday and began writing an essay for Transfiguration. He had tea with Severus and then went outside to fly while his father prepared lesson plans.

It was a damp misty day and Harry decided that he wouldn't stay out for very long, just long enough to run through the Wronski Feint a few times and maybe practice another move that he had been studying in Secrets of Seeking. He wasn't likely to play Quidditch again, but he had worked so hard to learn the Feint that he didn't want to get rusty, and besides, it was fun.

He held out his hand and uncurled his fingers, releasing the snitch that Severus had given him, so long ago now, it seemed. A gusty breeze blew, tossing the tiny winged ball far across the lawn and whipping Harry's cloak about his legs.

He stood on the terrace, his Firebolt in his hand, and wondered what the weather had been like on that Halloween. Then he decided that perhaps he was being morbid and pushed those thoughts away.

He looked up at the cloudy sky. Mum, Dad, Sirius...thank you. I love you and I miss you, but I'm doing better, most of the time anyway. Severus really loves me and I love him, too. I hope you understand. You would, wouldn't you?

A flash of gold flitted by, close enough to ruffle Harry's hair, and he realized that the snitch had come back, tantalizing him. He threw his leg over the Firebolt and took off in hot pursuit.

The snitch led him on a chase across the front lawn and over the wind-swept moor, almost to the stone wall, before arcing in a wide circle to the right and then heading back to Prince Hall. Harry was closing in, his outstretched fingers ready to grasp it, when the snitch abruptly dropped several feet. As Harry spun and dove after it, he caught a glimpse of a crumpled form lying on the ground in the garden below.

Draco lay in a heap beside a rose bush, and when Harry paused to take a second look, he realized with horror that the other boy was covered in blood. For just a second, he froze. Then he plummeted to the ground and sprinted to Draco's side the instant his feet touched the brick walkway.

"Malfoy!"

But Draco's eyes were closed, his eyelashes dark against waxy skin, and he didn't respond to Harry's shout.

Harry dropped to his knees by the other boy's side. A pair of bloody pruning shears lay beside Draco and Harry guessed that he must have somehow cut himself on them. He seemed to be bleeding from his chest; his yellow jumper was covered in blood.

Harry wished desperately that he knew some healing spells, but since he didn't, he yanked his own jumper off and pressed it hard against Draco's chest. He needed Severus and started to take his wand and send his Patronus, but then he realized that there was another way which would possibly be even quicker. He shouted for Norie and Zan as loudly as he could.

They appeared with twin pops.

"Master Harry, did you...oh dear God!" Norie exclaimed as she took in the sight before them.

"Get my father!" Harry instructed. "Or do you know any healing spells?"

Zan had already apparated away in search of Severus, but Norie shook her head. "We can help with a simple injury, but not something like this."

Harry kept pressing his jumper against Draco's chest with both hands, with all of his strength, trying to ignore how it had become blood-soaked within minutes or how deadly pale Draco was. He didn't like the other boy, but he certainly didn't want him to die.

Then Severus was there, kneeling beside his son with his wand in his hand, murmuring incantations in a low, but fierce voice.

After a moment, he stopped and nodded to his son. "All right, Harry, slowly move your jumper away. I believe I've stopped the bleeding."

Harry moved his hands away, tossing the ruined jumper to the side. Severus carefully eased Draco's clothing up, revealing a deep wound across his chest. There was so much blood that Harry couldn't tell at first whether the healing spells had helped, but Severus nodded in satisfaction and began waving his wand over Draco's chest again. As Harry watched, the wound knit itself closed, though there was still an angry red mark where it had been. Finally Severus gave a flick of his wand and the blood vanished.

Then he took a deep breath and sat back, closing his eyes for a second.

"Dad, will he be all right?" Harry asked quietly.

"Yes, I think so, though I shall call Poppy to come and examine him to make certain." Severus opened his eyes and looked at Harry. "Do you know what happened?"

Harry explained how he had caught sight of Draco lying injured in the garden while he had been flying, how he had tried to help and had called for the house elves.

"I thought that would be the fastest way to get you," he said.

Severus laid his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Well done, son. Your quick actions and clear thinking likely saved Draco's life. I'm proud of you."

Harry ducked his head and gave a tiny shrug. "I had to do something. Anyone would have."

"Your actions are commendable, Harry. There's no reason to deny it," his father said firmly. Then he frowned slightly, his black eyes warm with concern. "It is chilly out here and you have only a thin T-shirt. Your jumper is clean now, Harry. Put it back on."

Harry looked over to where his jumper lay on the grass. Severus' spell had cleaned all the blood away, but Harry still didn't think he wanted to wear it again.

"Do I have to?"

Severus had stood and was casting a spell to levitate Draco. He glanced at his son. "Very well, but hurry back inside and put on another. I don't want you catching pneumonia again."

He started off towards Prince Hall, an unconscious Draco floating in the air beside him.

Harry knelt on the ground a moment longer, staring at the now-shining pruning shears, feeling shaken. He shivered and wasn't sure if it was because of the cool breeze or in reaction to the events of the past ten minutes.

"Harry, come along!" His father's voice cut through his reverie.

"All right, Dad." Harry jumped up, grabbed his Firebolt from the ground and ran to join his father.

Once inside Prince Hall, Severus whisked Draco up the two flights of stairs to his room, calling for Norie to send for Madame Pomfrey, while Harry headed for his own room. He went over to his wardrobe, took out a brown jumper with a golden snitch embroidered on the front, and tugged it over his head. He wrapped his arms across his chest, although he wasn't really cold anymore, not now that he was inside and with the warm heavy jumper on.

He looked uncertainly at the door and the corridor beyond. Part of him wanted to go up to the top floor, to be with Severus and to see how Draco was. But part of him wanted to stay in his room and avoid it all.

He'd been doing a lot of that lately, hadn't he? Avoiding things, hiding away from everyone. It wasn't like him and Harry didn't like to think that he was being such a coward. But he was so tired of having to face people and deal with things. All his life he'd had to face hostility and ridicule, and he was just so tired of it. He was tired of being strong and brave, and now more than ever, he just didn't think he could do it anymore.

He wasn't the same person anymore, anyway, no matter what Severus said. He was just a slave.

But the instant that thought crossed his mind, another, even stronger one, came...the memory of his father holding Harry's hand between his own, studying him intently with black eyes soft with emotion; his father's voice, warm with concern and strong with conviction.

You are my son.

How many times had Severus told him that, Harry wondered suddenly? How many times had Severus tried to convince him that he was a valuable, worthwhile person...a unique and wonderful person?

Of course he wasn't wonderful and special like Severus said, but there were people who loved him...his father, Hermione, Ron, his other friends, maybe even Dumbledore. They loved him, no matter that he was a slave. And maybe, just maybe, he wasn't completely worthless, even if the Dursleys had hated him, even if he was a slave.

Because in spite of all that, he was loved.

He was loved, and he was Severus' son, and he was home. And even if he wasn't ready to face the world, he wasn't going to be afraid to face anyone in his own home, not ever again.

Harry lifted his chin and walked out of his room, heading upstairs to the little room where Draco Malfoy was staying.

There was no one to face though. The other boy was still unconscious, lying on the bed, pale and still with his eyes closed. Severus and Madame Pomfrey were there, standing beside the bed, with their backs to the corridor. Harry went to stand quietly beside his father. Severus glanced at him as he came in and rested his hand on Harry's shoulder.

Harry wanted to ask about Draco's condition, but Madame Pomfrey was still going through healing spells, frowning in concentration, so he thought that he should probably stay quiet and not interrupt.

Finally she straightened and turned to look at Severus and Harry.

"Draco should make a full recovery, but he lost a critical amount of blood and will need to take replenishers for a few days. He had a very close call. Do you know what happened? How was he injured so badly?"

Severus was quiet for a moment before answering, "Somehow he cut himself on pruning shears while working in the garden. Harry was flying and saw him lying on the ground."

Madame Pomfrey was quiet as well. She and Severus shared a long look. Then she cleared her throat and said briskly, "He'll need a dose of blood-replenisher every six hours for the next two days. I want him on bed rest until then, and you may need to limit his physical activities for another week or so afterwards as well."

Severus nodded. He patted Harry's shoulder and then moved to accompany the medi-witch as she stepped towards the fireplace to Floo back to Hogwarts.

"I'll be back tomorrow." Madame Pomfrey glanced Harry's way. "Harry, your father told me how you saved Draco. You did well, dear."

"Thank you, Madame Pomfrey," Harry murmured.

He watched as the medi-witch left and then looked back at Draco. The other boy was as white as the sheets on the bed he lay on, and he looked uncharacteristically young and vulnerable. Harry abruptly turned away, feeling unsettled again.

Severus sighed and came back to the bedside. "Harry, I think I ought to sit with Draco until he wakes up. I think I need to talk with him."

His voice was uncharacteristically hesitant, almost as if he were asking for Harry's approval, which seemed a little odd, but then again Harry knew that his father wanted to be certain to put his own son's needs first. But it was all right. Harry understood that someone needed to talk with Draco and Severus probably was the best choice. He didn't entirely like that, but he understood and he trusted Severus' love for him.

He nodded. "All right." He bit his lip. "Dad, do you think it was really an accident?"

"I don't know," Severus replied. "That is one of the things I need to ask Draco."

"If it wasn't an accident," Harry said slowly, "If he did this to himself on purpose, what will happen to him then?"

Severus shook his head. "Let's worry about first things first, shall we? Draco needs to heal and regain his strength before we make any decisions. And it might have been an accident after all."

They were quiet for a few moments. Harry couldn't decide whether to stay with Severus or leave. He wanted to be with his father, but he didn't really want to sit with Draco. He was still trying to make up his mind when the other boy moaned softly and stirred, moving his arms feebly.

Harry glanced at his father and decided that he would let Severus speak with Draco in private. He was no longer afraid to face Draco, but he didn't exactly want to talk with him either.

"I think I'll work some more on my Transfiguration essay, all right, Dad?"

"Of course," Severus agreed. "Harry, I might not be at dinner tonight so you may wish to eat in your room or with Norie and Zan."

Harry refrained from sighing. He would be understanding about the fact that his father needed to talk with Draco, to figure out if the other boy were suicidal and to decide what would be the best course of action to take now. Of course all of that would take some time. It wasn't a conversation that could be rushed.

And if Draco was that disturbed, perhaps he could be sent somewhere else and Harry could have his home all to himself again.

Except that there wasn't any other place to send Draco, was there? Just Azkaban and Harry truly didn't want him to have to go there.

He did sigh then.

Severus looked at him quickly and reached to squeeze his shoulder again. "I'll come and talk with you later. Perhaps you could show me how to play that Muggle card game that Hermione was teaching you the other night."

Harry nodded. "You're on." He raised his eyebrow at Severus. "You called her ‘Hermione'."

Severus' lips quirked. "Merlin help me, I'm being corrupted by Gryffindors."

Harry grinned at him as he left the room.

***

Harry set his quill down and re-read the final paragraph of his essay. He frowned thoughtfully, biting his lip, and then picked the quill up again and added another couple of sentences. There, that was better. Severus said he had a tendency to rush his conclusions...probably because he was in a hurry to get the work finished and move on to something else...so Harry had been trying to take a little more care with that lately. But he thought he'd done a decent job with this essay on the steps of Animagi transformations, if he did say so himself.

The clock on the wall chimed softly, reminding him that it was time for dinner. Harry considered whether to ask for a tray in his room but quickly rejected that idea. He would rather go down and eat in the kitchen with Norie and Zan.

The elves were still preparing dinner; a ham with baked potatoes and a mix of vegetables. Harry joined in, setting out plates and silverware and table napkins.

"Oh, no, Master Harry," Norie protested. "Zan and I can get that. You just have a seat and everything will be ready in a second."

"It's all right, Norie," Harry told her. "I don't mind helping."

"But..." she still looked unhappy.

"Really, Norie, I want to help. You and Zan do so much for me. You always have, from the very beginning, and I don't know if I ever even thanked you," Harry added, smiling at her.

"We were happy to help, Master Harry," Zan said.

"I know, and I'm happy to help you, too." Harry got glasses for the drinks. "There, is that it?"

While Norie poured glasses of water and butterbeer, Zan prepared a couple of plates and set them trays. "I don't know if Master Draco is able to eat properly, but Master Severus didn't tell us of any special requirements so I suppose this is all right."

He snapped his fingers and the trays vanished, presumably re-appearing upstairs. Then he, Norie, and Harry sat down at the kitchen table to have their own dinner, though Norie fretted over Harry sitting in the kitchen with them.

"Are you certain you don't want to sit upstairs in the dining room, Master Harry?" She kept asking.

"Will you and Zan come too?" Harry wanted to know.

"Oh, Master Harry, you know we don't like to do that," she scolded.

"You did for my birthday."

"But that was a special occasion," Norie protested.

"Then I want to sit down here with you," Harry said. "It's no fun to eat by yourself."

So they settled down to eat, but before they had had more than a few bites green flames flared in the fireplace and they heard Ron's voice calling.

"Hello? Harry? Is anyone there?"

Harry jumped up and hurried over to kneel by the hearth. "Hey, Ron, I'm here. Is everything all right?"

Ron's and Hermione's faces appeared above the flames. Ron had a black tri-cornered pirate's hat perched atop his head and a patch covering one eye, while Hermione wore a delicate golden crown and had her hair fixed in a braided coronet.

"Oh yes, we're all right," Hermione spoke first. "But we were concerned for you, with today being Halloween and all."

Harry smiled at them. "I'm okay, guys. So you're going to the masquerade party then?"

"Well, yeah, we thought we would," Ron replied.

"I hope you don't mind?" Hermione asked, slightly anxiously.

"Course not," Harry told them. "I'm glad you're going. I always felt bad that you guys missed out on the fun."

"You know we always wanted to stay with you," Ron said firmly. "We never minded that."

They all were quiet for a moment; then Harry cleared his throat. "Well, obviously Ron is a pirate. What are you, Hermione, a princess?"

"Not just any princess. I'm Elora," she explained.

When Harry just stared blankly, she sighed. "The ancient Greek princess who was a famous Transfiguration genius."

"Don't worry, I didn't know who she was either," Ron remarked.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly. She discovered many of the fundamental principles of Transfiguration. We learned about her in History of Magic. What were the two of you doing?"

"Probably sleeping," Harry admitted wryly.

"You know I'm no use without my mid-afternoon nap," Ron grinned.

"I didn't know you were much use even with it," Hermione retorted.

"Ouch. Hermione, you wound me." Ron feigned hurt feelings. "Pity me, Harry. She's a cold woman."

Hermione just rolled her eyes again and shook her head. But then she grew serious and gazed at Harry intently. "You're really all right, Harry?"

"I'm fine." Harry hesitated and then lowered his voice slightly. "I'm not sure Malfoy is, though."

"Why? What happened?" Ron and Hermione spoke together.

So Harry told them of the afternoon's events and how Draco had been injured so badly in the garden.

"And you think he might have done that to himself?" Hermione questioned, looking horrified.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Dad's talking with him now, trying to find out."

"How do you feel about it?" Hermione asked after a moment.

"I don't know," Harry repeated with a sigh. It was true. It was rather like the time, several weeks ago now, when he had heard Draco sobbing and telling Dumbledore and Severus how he had been hurt by Death Eaters and how they had killed his mother. Harry couldn't bring himself to forgive the other boy. Draco had enslaved him, and told the newspapers, and he didn't even feel any remorse. How could you forgive someone if they weren't even sorry for what they'd done? And Harry was so angry and hurt, he wasn't sure he would forgive Draco even if the other boy did apologise.

But Harry also couldn't help but feel a little sympathetic. He would never wish such horrible experiences on anyone, even someone he considered an enemy. And Harry knew what it was like to be miserable and desperate and all alone. He knew what it was like to feel that death was a better choice than life. He wouldn't wish that on anyone either.

So now he just didn't know how he felt about Draco Malfoy or what he wanted to happen.

So he just shrugged again.

"Well, I don't want him to die or anything, but he's still a slimy git," Ron said angrily. "He hasn't even really been punished for what he's done to Harry. So he's had to do a few chores for a couple weeks. Big deal! And he's such a coward he can't even face up to that. I just can't feel that sorry for him."

"Maybe coming here and working isn't so bad, but Dolohov and Greyback tortured him and killed his mother," Harry said quietly. "That was really terrible."

Ron studied him. "You're not feeling sorry for him, are you?"

"No...I don't know. I'm just saying that that must have been horrible," Harry muttered.

"Well, the Malfoys brought that on themselves, if you ask me," Ron said.

Harry and Hermione both shook their heads.

"Not even Draco deserved that," Harry said. "He may be rotten, but he's just a kid like us. He didn't deserve that.'

Hermione added. "Lucius Malfoy is the one who joined Voldemort and got their family involved with all of that, not Draco, maybe not even Narcissa. And I don't think anyone deserves to be tortured, especially if they're only sixteen."

"I know you're both right. I mean, I'm not happy the slimy little git was tortured, or anything awful like that," Ron replied. "But I just can't help being angry. Look what he did to Harry, and he's not even sorry."

They were all quiet again for a moment and then Ron spoke again, sounding a little awkward.

"Hey, Harry, I know it's got to be rough for you, having Malfoy there and all. I didn't mean to upset you or anything. The whole reason we called was to make sure you were all right."

"I am all right, and thanks, both of you," Harry said firmly. "Don't worry about me. Just have fun at the party and I want to hear all about it tomorrow."

"Sure thing," Ron grinned. "Later, me heartie. Yo ho ho, and all that."

"I don't think pirates really spoke like that," Hermione pointed out, but Ron had already disappeared.

She turned her attention back to Harry. "Well, I suppose we'd better get going."

"Have fun. I'll see you tomorrow," Harry responded.

Hermione's head vanished and the green flames below died down. Harry stood up and went back to the table to finish his dinner.

***

Severus watched as Draco softly moaned and stirred. He couldn't help but hope that the boy would fall back into unconsciousness for a time; Severus didn't feel ready to speak with him. The truth was that Severus still had not managed to figure out his own complicated emotions towards Draco and today's incident was only making things even more tumultuous. He felt alternately torn between sympathy and anger. It almost reminded him of how he had felt back in the summer when his relationship with Harry had first begun to change.

But this was even worse, Severus thought. It had been difficult to let go of his misconceptions and to accept that he had been wrong about Harry. But his resentment towards Harry had been based on his delusions and his old grudge against James Potter. Once Severus had been able to see his mistakes and had gotten to know the real Harry, he couldn't help but care for him.

With Draco, things were more complex. He couldn't help feeling sorry for Draco, for what the boy had suffered, but Draco had hurt his Harry. Severus had always found it difficult enough to forgive someone for hurting him...but forgiving someone who had hurt his beloved son was near impossible.

But Draco was young. He had suffered more than any child ought to have, and Severus was having more doubts than ever about the current situation. Did Draco need more punishment? Perhaps, but he also needed some counseling, someone to act as a mentor, someone who could be firm if necessary, but who could also show compassion.

And Severus did not think that he could be the person that Draco needed, not when his first loyalty was to his own son and his own emotions were so unsettled.

But someone was going to have to talk with the boy when he woke and right now Severus was the only candidate. So he had hoped that Draco would stay asleep at least a little longer, until he felt better prepared. But no, Draco's silver eyes blinked and then opened, staring uncertainly about the room before resting on Severus' face, his expression a mixture of bewilderment and apprehension.

Severus gave a mental sigh and tried to pull himself together. The moment was upon him, ready or not, and he would just have to do the best that he could.

"Draco, how do you feel? Are you in pain?" He asked, keeping his voice quiet but level.

Draco hesitated before giving his head a slight shake. Then he lay back against his pillow as if he were exhausted.

"If you are uncomfortable, Madame Pomfrey said you could have another dose of pain-killers," Severus continued.

"I'm all right," Draco mumbled. He glanced about the room again. "What hap...oh."

"I take it you recall being injured."

"Yes, sir." Draco glanced down and gingerly rested a hand on his chest.

"What happened?" He repeated. "I remember getting hurt with the shears, but then everything went black."

"Harry was flying and noticed that you were injured," Severus told him. "He landed and rushed to your side. He sent for me and slowed the bleeding by holding his own jumper to your wounds. I managed to stop the bleeding completely and to close the cuts. We brought you inside and sent for Madame Pomfrey who completed the healing task."

Draco looked up at him. "Thank you, sir."

There was an odd tone in the boy's voice and a look in his eyes...uncertain and beseeching. It made Severus uncomfortable and he almost wished his godson would resort to his cool aloof façade again. But that wasn't healthy for him, Severus knew.

He cleared his throat. "You're welcome, but you really need to thank Harry. He likely saved your life."

Draco looked away with a grimace and didn't respond. They were silent for a few moments and then Severus asked the question that he knew had to be asked.

"Did you deliberately injure yourself, Draco?"

Draco stiffened. "Of course not. I tripped and fell."

But he refused to meet Severus' eyes and his hands had clenched tightly into fists.

Severus sighed. "Draco, harming yourself is not the solution to your problems."

"I didn't! It was an accident!"

Severus studied him in silence while Draco resolutely stared at the wall. He sighed again, feeling completely out of his depth. When Harry had been suicidal, Severus had held him and let him cry and comforted him. But by that point he had already grown to love Harry.

He wasn't sure how he felt about Draco now. It really was most unfair of Albus to have put them all in this position and Severus decided that he was going to speak with the headmaster later tonight, even if it would be late when the Halloween festivities were over. Albus needed to know how distraught Draco was, and they were going to have to figure out some way for the boy to get the counseling he needed. But Severus simply could not handle trying to make these decisions on his own, not when he himself was so conflicted. Yes, he thought, it was high time for Albus to take more of a hand in matters.

"Very well," Severus said finally. "Madame Pomfrey said that you will make a full recovery, but that you need to rest for a few days. You need to stay in bed for now. Naturally you are excused from your chores for the time being. If you feel up to studying during the day, then I will come up here to work with you, but you are not to overexert yourself. Do you understand?"

Draco nodded silently.

A clock chimed and as if on cue, two plates of food and two glasses, one of wine and one of butterbeer, appeared on trays.

"Ah, dinner is ready." Severus set the tray with the glass of butterbeer before Draco and then took the other for himself. He settled back in his chair and they began to eat. Or rather, Severus ate and Draco distractedly picked at his food.

Neither of them spoke again until they had finished and Severus had sent the trays back downstairs to the kitchen. Then he stood and asked, "Do you need anything else?"

He had expected Draco to decline and he was shocked speechless when the boy swallowed hard and then looked up at him, his chin lifted defensively.

"Yes, sir. If he'll see me, I need to speak with Pot...with Harry."

Dinner was finished and the table cleared away, but Harry was still sitting in the kitchen, chatting with Norie and Zan, when his father appeared in the doorway.

"Norie, Zan, thank you for dinner. It was excellent, as always," Severus said.

The elves beamed. "You're welcome, Master Severus."

"Is everything all right?" Harry asked.

Severus nodded. "Yes, but Draco has asked to speak with you...if you're willing."

Harry frowned. "Why does he want to speak with me?"

"I'm not sure," Severus admitted. "It is entirely up to you, of course, Harry. You do not have to see Draco if you do not wish to."

For several long moments Harry sat still, considering. He didn't really want to see Draco, but he couldn't help but feel a little curious about why the other boy might want to see him.

Finally he nodded. "I guess I could."

Severus looked faintly surprised, as if he had expected Harry to refuse. He arched an eyebrow. "Are you certain you want to do this?"

Harry shrugged. "Well, I can always walk out if I want to, can't I?"

"Yes, I suppose so." Though Severus didn't smile, his black eyes glimmered and Harry thought he was amused.

"I was actually serious," he remarked dryly.

"Well, your statement did strike me as a bit humourous, for some reason," Severus told him. "But whatever you want to do is fine with me, Harry."

"Well, I guess I could see him for a minute, just to see what he wants," Harry decided. He stood and followed his father out of the kitchen and upstairs.

As they walked, Harry looked over at Severus. "Did he...you know, do that deliberately?"

"I believe so, though he denies it," Severus answered. "I am planning to contact Albus later tonight. I think he needs to help us figure out the best plan for Draco now. I do not think that I am capable of being the mentor and counselor he needs now."

Harry frowned slightly, puzzled. It seemed to him that Severus would be a really good person to help Draco. Severus knew what it was like to be in Death Eater ranks, unwillingly. They were both Slytherins. Severus was Draco's godfather and until recently, they had always been close, or at least closer than either of them had been to any one else, Harry had thought.

"You're not?" He asked.

Severus stopped walking and turned to him. "Harry, you're my son. I love you. How can I try to guide and help the person who has hurt you so badly? How can I be consistent and compassionate with Draco when a good deal of the time I'm furious with him?"

"Oh." Harry wasn't exactly sure why, but he felt a little guilty at Severus' words. Severus was Draco's godfather and he, Harry, had spoiled that relationship.

"If it weren't for me, though..." he said in a quiet voice.

Severus abruptly pulled him close in a warm embrace. "Harry, don't ever think that. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me."

He held Harry close, his hand cradling the back of Harry's head and his fingers tenderly caressing back and forth through his hair. Harry leaned against his father's chest, enjoying the feel of the soft woolen robe beneath his cheek and the strong arms holding him so gently. He wrapped his own arms around Severus and hugged him back, wanting his father to know how much he was loved in return.

After a moment they stepped apart, but Severus ran his fingers through Harry's hair one last time and then rested his hand against his cheek.

"Harry, I often think that I was never truly alive until you came. You're everything to me. Remember that, child."

Harry ducked his head and looked at the floor. He could feel himself turning red with embarrassment, yet he felt flooded with happiness at the same time.

They walked the rest of the way in silence, but just before they reached Draco's room, Harry turned and flung his arms around Severus again.

"I love you so much, Dad," he whispered.

Then he turned and walked into Draco's room.

***

The other boy was sitting propped up on pillows, staring out the window at the grey cloudy sky. But he must have caught a glimpse of movement when Harry came in for he turned and lifted his chin. The two stared at one another in silence for a moment, both of them uneasy and a bit defiant.

Harry stopped a few steps into the room. He spoke first, his voice cool. "My dad said you wanted to see me."

Draco's voice was equally cool. "Severus said you were the one who saved me. Why?"

Harry frowned. What kind of a question was that? "Well, what else was I supposed to do? Let you bleed to death? Any decent person would have helped." He shrugged his shoulders. "Besides, I didn't save you. Dad and Madame Pomfrey did."

Draco looked away and mumbled something.

"What?"

Draco looked back at him, lifting his chin again. "I said you should have let me die. What do I have to live for now? Congratulations, Potter. You won and I lost. Happy now?"

Harry glared. "Oh, sure, I'm delirious," he hissed. "What does it matter that I'm a slave and I'll never be free again, thanks to you! You ruined my life, you..."

"Oh, yeah, you're really suffering, aren't you? You may be under the spell, but the only one who's a slave here is me," Draco interrupted. His voice shook slightly, but Harry couldn't tell if it was anger or some other emotion. "You've got Severus wrapped around your finger. The only person in the world who gave a damn about me, and you had to take him away."

"You did that to yourself," Harry retorted. "He would still hate my guts if I hadn't had to come and live here."

"So you should be thanking me!"

Harry almost launched himself at the bed and punched Draco in the nose...never mind if he was recovering from a near fatal experience.

"Thank you? For enslaving me!" He sputtered, too overcome with fury to be more articulate.

"Well, you got Severus, didn't you?" Draco demanded.

Harry took a deep breath and tried to tell himself that he did not want to have to go to Azkaban for murdering Draco Malfoy.

"You haven't learned anything, have you?" he finally said.

To his surprise, a flash of pain flickered across Draco's face and then...well, if Harry hadn't known better, he would have thought that the other boy almost looked guilty.

"I guess I shouldn't have cast that spell against you," Draco said grudgingly. "But you were dueling with me, too, you know."

Harry looked at him, his expression a mix of anger, disbelief, and pain. "I cast a Jelly-Legs Jinx against you. You enslaved me."

Draco started to answer, but then his retort died and he just stared at Harry, looking unsettled.

Harry spun on his heel and left.

***

Severus was standing at the far end of the corridor, out of earshot but within sight. He watched as Harry stalked towards him and when Harry came close, he murmured, "I take it your meeting did not go well."

Harry shrugged and then let out an angry breath. "He said I should thank him for casting the slavery spell on me."

"What?" Severus demanded incredulously.

"I guess because I live here now," Harry shrugged again and added, "And I have you."

He glanced sideways at his father. "He's pretty upset about that, I think."

Severus sighed and motioned for Harry to walk with him back down to their own rooms.

As they walked, he spoke quietly, "Harry, I don't know if you know anything about Draco's home life, but suffice to say that it was not particularly happy. In some ways, Draco was quite spoiled, but he was also neglected and, on occasion, abused. I'm sure you can imagine that Lucius Malfoy was not an ideal father. He had extremely high standards for his son, unrealistically high...no child could have met them...and he sometimes resorted to physical punishment if Draco disappointed him."

Severus frowned. "Actually, that is a euphemism. To speak bluntly, I know of several occasions when he beat Draco with a cane and I believe he might have used magical curses on him as well. I stepped in and tried to prevent it the one time that I was present, but I suspect that he punished Draco anyway, after I had gone."

"Narcissa Malfoy was not much better, in my opinion. She was far more interested in being a socialite than a mother. I suppose she did have some concern and feelings for her son, based on the fact that at the end she did try to save him from becoming a Death Eater. Nonetheless, during her life she spent more time shopping in boutiques and having tea with acquaintances than she ever spent with Draco."

They came to Severus' private sitting room and went in, sitting side by side on the small sofa.

"Are you trying to make me feel sorry for him?" Harry asked.

"No, I'm not and I apologize if it seemed that way," Severus said firmly. "Draco may have had a difficult childhood, but he has reached an age where he is responsible for his own actions and there is no excuse for what he has done to you. You are the innocent party here, Harry. You also had a difficult childhood, but you have managed to rise above it, to have a generous spirit and compassion for others. The fact that you and I have grown close and found happiness despite the slavery spell in no way absolves Draco of guilt. Don't you agree?"

Harry nodded, but even though he was angry with Draco...and had a right to be...he couldn't help but think about the Slytherin boy's words: that Severus was the only person who had ever cared for him. There had been pain beneath the bitterness and if Draco were suicidal, Harry didn't want him to try anything again.

He sighed. "Dad, he was pretty upset. Maybe you should go and check on him."

"I have already asked Norie and Zan to keep a watch on Draco. I want to stay with you," Severus replied softly. "We were going to play cards, weren't we?" He took his wand and gave it a flick. "Accio cards!"

***

They played games; first cards and then chess, for several hours. As the clock struck eleven, Severus stood and went to the fireplace to take some Floo powder from the vase on the mantel.

"Albus should be back in his rooms by now and I wanted to speak with him about today's events. We'll finish our match tomorrow."

Harry watched as Severus knelt and firecalled Dumbledore. He couldn't see the headmaster, but after a time, his father straightened and looked over at him.

"Harry, Albus would like to speak with me in person briefly so we can try to decide the best way to handle the situation. Would you like to come along?"

Harry considered, but then shook his head. It was getting late and he was tired. Besides, he didn't really feel qualified to take part in this discussion. His father and Dumbledore could handle it, he was sure.

"No thanks, Dad. I'm going to head on to bed."

"All right then." Severus came over and dropped a kiss on the top of his head. "Good night, child."

Harry smiled and watched as Severus left. He yawned and idly studied the chess board for a few minutes, pondering his next move. He was a pretty good player now, but he still hadn't managed to win against his father. One day though...

A loud sound, like a bell clanging, tore through the air. Harry jumped and looked about wildly. Nothing seemed amiss that he could see, but something had to be wrong. Could it be some kind of fire alarm? Did wizards even have such things?

Zan suddenly apparated into the room. "Master Severus?"

"He's gone to Hogwarts. What's wrong? What's that noise?" Harry wanted to know.

"It's Master Draco. He fell asleep, but then he started screaming. I woke him and he leaped out of bed and ran into the hall. But then he collapsed. I don't know if he is injured or simply upset. Norie is with him now and I came to fetch Master Severus."

"Go to Hogwarts and get Dad," Harry directed. He hesitated. He didn't want to have anything to do with the other boy again, but if Draco were hurt, he might need attention before Severus could return. Harry wasn't sure exactly what he could do, but he couldn't just go on to bed and ignore the situation.

He took a deep breath. "I'll go check on him."

Harry made himself walk resolutely through the halls and upstairs until he came to the corridor leading to Draco's room. He saw the other boy as soon as he turned the corner. Draco was sitting huddled by the wall, his knees drawn up to his chest, and his head bowed against them. His arms were wrapped tightly around his legs. He was the picture of abject misery and Harry couldn't help but feel a tug of empathy.

Norie was standing beside him, wringing her hands in distress and talking softly, but Draco gave no sign of hearing her. She fell silent and withdrew as Harry approached.

Harry hesitated, but finally knelt beside Draco. He tried to keep his voice neutral and quiet. "Are you all right?"

For several long moments the only sound was Draco's ragged breathing. Harry had almost given up on him answering, but then he spoke, his voice low and raw with pain that he could no longer mask.

"I see them every time I close my eyes...Dolohov and Greyback hurting my mother. She was all torn up; her blood was everywhere, all over the room. And then...then Dolohov raised his wand, and he killed her. And I couldn't do anything to help her. I dream about it every night."

Draco began trembling, his thin frame racked with tremors. Harry couldn't see his face so he didn't know if the other boy was weeping, but he couldn't blame him if he was.

He didn't want to feel sympathy for the Malfoys, but he couldn't help it. What a horrible fate, not even Narcissa had deserved that. And for Draco to have had to witness his mother's torment and murder...

Vague images and memories flashed through Harry's mind...his own mother's dying screams, the stories he had heard of James' and Lily's courage and sacrifice. He knew how painful it was for him, to know that his parents had died, to remember the echo of his mother's death, and to imagine the whole horrific scene in his mind.

But it had to be even worse, much worse, for Draco. After all, Harry had only been a baby when he had lost his parents. He really couldn't remember, except for the one memory the dementors had dragged from his subconscious. But Draco was sixteen. He had definitely been old enough to know what was happening and to remember. Every moment of agony must be permanently burned into his mind.

"Yeah, I know," Harry said softly.

Draco raised his head. He was not crying, but his face was drawn with pain and his silver eyes were haunted. He and Harry stared at one another. For once there was no enmity in their gaze, but only a shared anguish.

Finally Draco nodded and mumbled, "I guess you would."

He dropped his head again. There was a pause, while Harry wondered what he should do next, and then Draco spoke again.

"I'm sorry."

Harry stared at him. Draco could not possibly have said those words...his ears must not be working properly. Malfoys would never apologize for anything, he was certain. It was probably against their family code or something like that. "What?"

But Draco raised his head and looked directly at Harry, his expression still pained. "I'm sorry I cast that spell on you and I'm sorry I told. You said I hadn't learned anything, but...that isn't true. I know that what I did to you was horrible. I've known it for a while, deep down, but I didn't want to admit it. How could I? I hated you. But I think I knew even way back when Dumbledore first mentioned that there was a possibility that you could have been killed or hurt, you know, permanently. I was actually very relieved when he said that you were all right, because then I wouldn't have to feel guilty."

"But I am hurt permanently," Harry said in a flat voice. "And don't tell me you feel guilty. You ran straight to Rita Skeeter when you found out."

"I shouldn't have," Draco admitted quietly, dropping his gaze to the floor. "I know I shouldn't have, and I am sorry. I just..." He shrugged helplessly and looked back up at Harry. "Severus was the only one who ever cared anything about me, and after...what happened, I needed him. And he hated me and loved you. I blamed you and I was angry. When I found out about the slavery spell, I just wanted you to hurt as much as I did."

"But then Severus said that you were the one who let me come here and kept me out of Azkaban, and you wouldn't let your friends mock me, and then you saved me today, even after all that I'd done to you. Dammit, how am I supposed to keep hating you?"

Draco half-turned and pounded his fist against the wall, hard. It would have hurt, Harry knew. But Draco didn't seem to care. He hit the wall again, and then again.

"Stop it." Harry caught his wrist on the fourth try. "You're going to break your hand and I don't know any healing spells."

Draco made a sound which seemed to be halfway between anger and a sob. "Why should you care if I hurt myself?"

Harry wondered that himself. He settled for saying, "Just don't do it. It doesn't help anything. I know."

Draco looked at him, an appraising look. "How do you know?"

But Harry was not about to tell Draco about his own suicide attempt. He let go of the other boy's wrist. "I just do."

"Have you...?"

"Drop it...just drop it." Harry sighed. "Look, you need to get back to bed. Can you stand up?"

Draco nodded wearily, but before either of them could move, there was the sound of someone clearing his throat and then Severus came and knelt before them. His black eyes glimmered warmly at Harry for a second before he turned his attention to Draco. Severus laid a hand on his shoulder and started to speak, "Draco...

But before he could go any further Draco broke down and began sobbing. He moved towards Severus and grabbed onto his godfather's robes, holding on to him as if to a lifeline. Severus froze and was still for a moment, but then slowly wrapped his own arms around Draco.

He held him for a moment before saying, in a voice that was more gentle than he had used with Draco in a long time, "Come, you need to lie down... and we need to talk."

Severus helped Draco to his feet, and they went back into the bedroom. Draco curled up on his bed, moving slowly and cautiously, and Severus tucked the blankets around his shoulders and then pulled a chair up to the bed.

Watching them, Harry felt a painful little jolt inside. He bit his lip, not even sure exactly what the emotion was. He wasn't jealous, was he? He didn't know how he felt about Draco now, but he didn't think he hated him anymore. The other boy obviously needed some help and comfort and Severus was the only adult around to provide it.

Harry wasn't going to resent that. He wasn't. No, he was just going to go back to his own bedroom and go to sleep. It was late and he was ready for this day to end.

***

And yet he ended up sitting on his window seat for a time gazing up at the night sky, rather than going straight to bed. A gusty wind was blowing away the thick clouds of earlier in the day, and now and then a thin crescent moon and twinkling stars peeked out from behind the dark grey mist.

Harry always thought of Remus now whenever he saw the moon, even if it wasn't full, and he wondered where the last Marauder was tonight, and if he was remembering another Halloween night of long ago. He had written letters to Remus, several of them in fact, but he still had not found the nerve to actually send them. He didn't know if he ever would. He just couldn't bear it if Remus blamed him for Sirius' death. And Remus probably did, didn't he? Wouldn't he have contacted Harry by now, unless he hated him for killing Sirius?

Everyone leaves me...my parents, Sirius, Remus. What if Dad leaves me too?

But Harry pushed that thought away at once. Of course Severus wasn't going to leave him! That was ridiculous. There wasn't much danger anymore and Severus was a powerful wizard, and always very cautious. He would never send Harry away either. Well, he couldn't even if he ever wanted to, for that matter, not with the slavery spell binding them together.

But what if he starts loving Draco again? What if he loves Draco more than me?

Draco was Severus' godson after all, and they shared years of fond memories. Harry's memories, until this past summer had changed everything, were of Severus and Draco uniting against him. He couldn't bear for that to happen again, either. He had promised Severus that he would not attempt suicide again, but if Severus ever turned on him again, Harry knew that he would not be able to go on living.

I'm being stupid. Dad loves me. He would never start hating me again. Would he?

Harry sighed. Of course his father loved him. Hadn't Severus told him so, like about a thousand times by now? And he had promised that his loyalty was to Harry, not Draco, that he would always put Harry's needs first.

So there was nothing to worry about. He was just being foolish.

So why couldn't he stop worrying?

It was very late when Harry finally dragged himself to bed, and even then, he lay awake for a time, staring into the darkness and remembering how Severus had taken Draco in his arms and held him, and how gently he had spoken.

***

Grey clouds were still blowing across the sky when Harry opened his eyes the next morning, but he could tell by the amount of light in the room that he had overslept.

"Darn," he muttered under his breath as he jumped up and hurried over to his wardrobe to pull out a dark blue jumper and a pair of khaki trousers. "Why didn't someone call me?"

He usually woke up early on his own, but he was rather surprised that his father or one of the elves had not come to fetch him when he had not shown up for breakfast. For a second, Harry's mind flashed back to his first day at Prince Hall...Severus telling him in harsh, clipped tones that he would not eat if he were late to meals. Thank goodness those days were over.

He was further reassured by the small parcel resting on the side table by the bed. His father still always left him a small gift in the mornings, though Severus still insisted that it must come from Hedwig, that he himself was not the type to indulge in such silliness.

Late though he was, Harry couldn't resist opening the parcel to see today's present. Usually the gift was just some trinket, but for some reason, that made it all the more special to Harry. Receiving presents for Christmas or his birthday was wonderful and Harry would never take that for granted; he had spent too many years being denied anything with the Dursleys. But for his father to love him enough to spoil him everyday with little luxuries like pieces of candy or a new pair of gloves...well, that always left a lump in Harry's throat.

Today's gift was more than a trinket though. Harry caught his breath when he saw four tickets for the national Quidditch team's opening match on Boxing Day. They were playing their first match near Boscastle in Cornwall, against the Portuguese team which had won the Quidditch Cup back in August. It ought to be a good game.

You stupid oaf! Harry chided himself. How could you ever doubt Dad?

Then he froze. Going to the game would mean leaving Prince Hall, facing the outside world again. Harry wasn't ready for that, and not even the national Quidditch team could entice him into it.

Severus knew that and he had promised not to pressure Harry into leaving. He had promised. How could he dangle these tickets in front of Harry now, tempting him and knowing that Harry would be disappointed even if it was his own choice not to go? Harry wanted to, but he just couldn't face everyone, not now that they all knew he was a slave. It almost seemed as if Severus were trying to trick him.

Harry scowled down at the tickets in his hand. All the happiness and relief he had felt just moments earlier changed to bitter dismay and a sense of betrayal. He flung the tickets back down on his side table and stalked out of the room to find his father.

Severus was not in the dining room when Harry stalked in. Two plates of sausages, eggs, and marmalade-covered toast rested on the long table, along with tumblers of milk and juice, but the room was empty.

The grandfather clock showed that it was past ten and Harry's anger dwindled beneath a flash of worry. Where was his father? It was a week day; why hadn't he come to fetch Harry for breakfast and lessons? Had he sat by Draco's bed all night and completely forgotten his own son? Was he still there now? Or was there some other reason for his absence?

"Norie? Zan?" Harry called and Norie appeared instantly.

"Yes, Master Harry?"

"Where's my father? He's all right, isn't he?" Harry asked. He tried to hide his anxiety, but he must not have been terribly successful because Norie quickly came over to pat his arm reassuringly.

"Oh, yes, Master Harry. I believe he's still asleep. He called for Zan and me last night...actually very early this morning...to ask us to take turns sitting with Master Draco and not to leave him alone. Zan is with Master Draco now. And Master Severus said that as everyone had had a late night, he thought we could all do with a lie-in this morning. He did say that if you woke before he did that we were to tell you to eat your breakfast and to study on your own until he came down. "

"Oh...all right. Thank you, Norie." Harry eyed the plate of food. He wasn't particularly hungry, but he thought he'd try to eat a bit anyway. He nibbled on his food until he had eaten about half, took a few swallows of milk, and then headed for the library.

In the doorway, he paused and looked about the vast room with its elegant wood-paneled walls, the gleaming leather-bound books on the shelves, and the flowing wine-red drapes at the windows. Leather armchairs in the same deep red colour sat near the carved black marble fireplace and for a moment Harry remembered that awful scene from last summer when Severus had mistakenly blamed Harry for reading his journal. Harry had been a little intimidated by the room for a time afterwards, hesitant to return even with the attractive lure of the books. But that one terrible memory had long since been replaced by happy ones...long hours spent reading companionably with his father, or playing epic chess matches and card games, studying and working together these past few weeks since they had left Hogwarts. The library was now one of Harry's favourite places.

He went over to the mahogany desk where he and Severus kept their school supplies now, took some parchment and a quill from a drawer and his Potions text, and went to a small table near one of the tall windows. Settling himself down, he began to read about brewing anti-dotes for neural poisons.

About half an hour later Severus came in, his black robes billowing. "Good morning, Harry. I'm sorry I wasn't awake in time to have breakfast with you. I was up quite late last night."

Harry looked up. All thoughts of potions vanished from his mind. "Why did you give me those tickets?"

Severus arched an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

But Harry was not in the mood for continuing their game at the moment. He glared at his father. "How could I go to the match? Everyone knows that I'm a slave. They'd all stare and talk, and I couldn't bear it. You said you understood. You said you wouldn't pressure me to leave home."

Severus sat down beside him. "Perhaps Hedwig was thinking that we could go incognito, with polyjuice or by casting glamours on ourselves."

Harry blinked, suddenly feeling deflated and foolishly contrite. Of course they could take polyjuice or use glamours to disguise themselves. Why hadn't he thought of that? How could he have been so stupid? He shook his head in disgust at himself.

"I'm sure Hedwig meant well. She would never wish to upset you," Severus continued quietly.

Harry swallowed and said softly. "Yeah, I guess I owe her an apology. I was so stupid. I didn't even think. They really are a great gift. I was so excited when I first saw them, but then I thought about being a slave and how everyone knows, and I...I was just stupid."

"I imagine that Hedwig will understand that you are tired and have been under a great deal of stress lately," Severus reassured him. "And no one insults my son with impunity, so unless you wish to disembowel frogs this evening, I suggest you refrain from doing so."

Harry gave him a lopsided smile before biting his lip and eyeing his father speculatively. He wanted to ask about Draco, what he and Severus had talked about the night before and how Severus felt towards the other boy now. He wanted to hear again that he was Severus' son and came first. He knew it; and yet he still wanted to hear his father tell him so...except that it sounded so weak and pitiful.

"What is it?" Severus asked.

Harry hesitated, but then shook his head. "Nothing. Just...I was just going to ask you why chopped hellebore roots will counteract curare poison, but crushed roots won't."

Severus gave him a searching look, but then just answered. "Chopped roots retain enough juice to neutralize curare, but the crushed roots do not."

"Oh." Harry turned back to his text. "Thanks."

"Are you reading chapter 7?"

"Yes, sir."

"Finish reading and then we'll go down to the laboratory and brew," Severus told him.

Harry nodded, but couldn't resist grimacing. Of course potions was entirely different now, but it would never be Harry's favourite subject. He couldn't help feeling a bit tense over it and often made silly mistakes due to his nerves. Thank Merlin that his father seemed to understand and was always very patient with him now.

Severus patted his shoulder. "You'll do fine. You are competent at Potions, Harry. You simply have a mental block about it, which is my own fault, I know," he finished, his dark eyes sorrowful and his tone filled with regret.

"It's all right, Dad," Harry tried to make him feel better.

Severus shook his head. "I was horrible to you before this past summer and that is not all right. I know that, but Harry, there is no reason for you to dread Potions anymore. You are bright and talented. These potions are well within your capabilities. Just try to relax a bit."

Harry nodded, but bit back a sigh. If only it were that easy. He wasn't really sure why he couldn't just relax, as his father suggested. He knew that Severus wasn't going to belittle or punish him for his mistakes in potions, not anymore. But he just couldn't help the knot of anxiety that always settled in his stomach when a potions lesson began. It wasn't nearly as bad as it had been once, back when he and Severus were enemies. Back then Harry had been so sick with fear before a lesson that he was often physically ill. So things were much better now, but Harry still dreaded brewing. He thought he always would.

Severus patted his shoulder again before saying, "I'll go up and check on Draco while you finish reading."

He swept out of the library, leaving Harry to stare after him with a wistful, troubled expression.

***

"Harry, you're supposed to be stirring counter-clockwise." Severus' quiet voice cut through Harry's thoughts.

He jumped and glanced down at the cauldron, where he was indeed stirring in the wrong direction, causing the bubbling liquid inside to turn to a muddy-brown colour rather than the clear lilac that it should be at this stage.

Harry flushed and mumbled, "Sorry," as he quickly changed to stirring to the left. It was his third mistake, which was an abysmal performance, even for him. He'd added ingredients in the wrong order, set the flames to the wrong temperature, and now this. Any first-year could have done better.

Draco certainly would have. He had always been the star of Potions class, along with Hermione. And while Severus had favoured the blond boy, Harry had to admit that Draco was genuinely good at Potions. It was something that he and Severus had in common.

"Stop." Severus stepped close to Harry's side and peered down into the cauldron. "I think this brew is beyond repair. Evanesco!" He drew his wand and vanished the anti-dote with a swish. "All right then. Care to tell me what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I'm just horrible at potions, Dad. I'm sorry." Harry looked away from his father's piercing gaze.

Severus reached to rest a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Harry, you are not horrible at potions. You are very capable, if you pay attention and don't let your nerves get the better of you."

"I'm sorry," Harry repeated.

Severus shook his head and squeezed Harry's shoulder. "Enough apologizing. Are you certain that nothing is bothering you? You seem distracted this morning."

"I'm just tired," Harry mumbled.

"Yesterday was very trying," Severus agreed. He sighed and lifted his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, looking weary himself. "It is almost lunchtime. We'll stop here for today and try the anti-dote again tomorrow."

They set the laboratory to rights, Harry putting away the tools and ingredients while Severus used magic to clean the cauldron, and then went back upstairs. There was a salad and meat pies for lunch, but neither Harry nor Severus ate much.

"I'm just not hungry, Dad," Harry said after a few bites.

"Yes, no wonder; we had such a late breakfast," Severus concurred. "I'll put a stasis charm on the food and return it to the kitchen. Perhaps you'll feel more like eating later."

Harry watched as he did so, and then asked, "Dad, could we play chess or read or something?"

But Severus shook his head. "I'm sorry, Harry, but Draco said he felt up to studying this afternoon and it is a school day. In any case, I need to take over sitting with him this afternoon so that Norie and Zan can rest. I don't feel comfortable leaving Draco alone right now and the elves have been up all night. They need a chance to sleep too."

"Oh, okay." Harry tried to hide his disappointment and worry.

"We'll spend some time together this evening, just the two of us," Severus promised. "All right?"

"All right."

Severus left and Harry watched him go, desperately trying to squash an anxious, hurt voice in his mind that put his greatest fear into words.

I'm losing him. He'd rather be with Draco than with me.

***

Harry spent the afternoon in his room...trying to read and play solitaire, trying not to brood, trying to tell himself that he was ridiculous to be so jealous and fearful...all to no avail.

Ron and Hermione fire-called him later in the afternoon, after their own classes. They were both tired too. Ron in particular seemed about to fall asleep and even Hermione was quieter than usual. But they had had a fun time at the masquerade party, and for a little while, Harry let himself be distracted by gossip from Hogwarts.

"Food was awesome," Ron said around a yawn. "Steak and roast chicken and salmon, baked potatoes with cheese and bacon...real bacon too, not those little fake bits. Oh, and the sweets...Harry, you wouldn't believe the sweets!"

"Honestly, Ron, Harry doesn't care about the food," Hermione scolded.

Ron looked at her in disbelief. "Course he does. Don't you, Harry?"

"Um, sure," Harry agreed.

Ron yawned again. "Wish we'd had the day off though. It's not fair, having classes the day after a party."

"I have to admit that I don't think any of us were at our best today," Hermione admitted.

"Yeah, same here," Harry told them. "You wouldn't believe the stupid mistakes I made in potions this morning."

"Sure we would," Ron joked. But then his grin faded and he frowned thoughtfully at Harry. "So what's wrong? Any more trouble with Malfoy?"

"Nothing's wrong. Why does everybody keep asking me that?" Harry demanded.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Maybe because it's true? Come on, Harry. We've been best mates for years. We know you, and we know when something's wrong."

"He's right," Hermione joined in. "I can tell by your face that something's upsetting you, Harry."

When Harry was silent, she added, "If you don't want to tell us, that's okay, but don't lie to us about it. We just want to help. We worry about you."

Harry sighed. "Look, it's just something crazy. I know it's crazy, but..."

"But it still upsets you," Hermione said softly.

"Yeah," Harry admitted. He was quiet for a moment, but Ron and Hermione remained silent, waiting for him, and he finally continued, telling them how he and Draco had talked, how Severus had come up and had comforted the other boy, how Harry couldn't help but worry that Draco could replace him in his father's affections.

When he finished, Ron and Hermione were watching him sympathetically, but they both spoke at once, emphatically.

"Harry, your father loves you more than anything," Hermione told him firmly.

Ron was more blunt. "Harry, that's the biggest load of crap I've ever heard! Are you mental?"

Harry had to laugh in spite of himself. "You always know how to cheer me up, Ron."

"Yes, he has a way with words, doesn't he?" Hermione agreed dryly. Then she turned serious again. "But Harry, he is right. Professor Snape loves you. Ron and I had a hard time believing it at first, but it's true. You can tell by the way he looks at you."

"Yeah, it's like his eyes get all soft," Ron remarked.

"And I think he would be upset to know that you've worried about this for even one moment." Hermione went on in an earnest voice. "Harry, please promise that you'll talk with him. Today. I know that he loves you. There is nothing for you to worry about, but I think you need to hear it from him more than us."

"Yeah, mate, talk with him. He's your dad. He'd want you to. I know my dad would," Ron said.

"Yeah, but your dad is...your dad. I mean, he's been your father all your life. You know he's never going to stop loving you because he's..." Harry's voice trailed off.

"My real dad?" Ron supplied. "But Snape is your real dad, too, Harry."

Harry bit his lip.

"Isn't he?" Ron asked after a moment of silence.

Harry didn't answer right away. The impact of Ron's words had hit him like a ton of bricks. Severus was his real father, wasn't he? He had told Harry so many times. He had even gone to the trouble to write lengthy adoption papers, knowing that they had no legal value...because he had known how much they would mean to Harry, that Harry needed to see their new relationship written in black and white. From that moment...from before that moment actually...he had always treated Harry as his son, loving him unconditionally, protecting him, comforting him, trying as hard as he could to make up for the past, trying to make Harry happy.

Harry looked back up at Ron and Hermione and slowly nodded. "Yes. He's my real dad."

"Then you need to talk with him," Hermione said.

Harry nodded. "I will. I'll talk with him at dinner."

Trying to talk with his father at dinner was harder than Harry had expected it to be, though. He tried to bring the subject up several times as they ate their salad and chicken alfredo. He really did. But admitting that he was insecure and needed Severus' reassurances made him sound so weak and pathetic that Harry just couldn't do it. Severus gave him odd looks, but each time Harry quickly began chatting about something harmless and inconsequential.

When they had finished dessert...one of Harry's favourites, treacle tart, Severus remarked, "I believe I owe you some of my time this evening. Shall we go upstairs and decide what we wish to do?"

Harry nodded, although Severus' choice of words bothered him a bit. "I owe you some of my time..." Didn't his father want to spend time with him? Or was he just an obligation now, a duty? Harry shuddered at the thought of that word. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had always gone on about how he had been thrust upon them and how they had had to fulfill their duty by taking him in. He never wanted to be someone's duty again.

"Yes, sir," he said quietly.

Severus gave him another searching look but then just motioned for him to come along. "Let's go then."

They climbed the stairs to Severus' sitting room, which connected to his bedroom to make one spacious suite. The rooms were elegant but cozy and soothing, with a huge mahogany four poster bed and a matching wardrobe and tables, a stuffed linen sofa and armchairs, drapery that fell in sweeping cascades from the windows, and a thick rug that covered the marble floor, all decorated in ivory and beige with touches of sage green.

They seated themselves on the sofa and Severus asked, "So what would you like to do?"

"I don't care, whatever you want," Harry replied.

Severus raised an eyebrow. "In that case, why don't you tell me whatever it is that you were trying to say all through dinner?"

Harry gaped at him. "You knew?"

"Well, you were rather transparent." Severus smirked at him for a moment before growing serious. "Harry, it has been obvious that something is bothering you all day."

Harry looked away, his shoulders slumping.

Severus' hand settled on his shoulder and he spoke gently, "Can't you tell me?"

"I want to," Harry sighed. "It's just hard."

"You can tell me anything," Severus told him. "It's about Draco, isn't it?"

Harry nodded silently.

"I have to admit that I overheard the two of you talking last night," Severus remarked. "I was very proud of you, Harry, for showing such compassion and maturity."

A lump appeared in Harry's throat and he had to swallow before saying softly, "Thank you."

Severus squeezed his shoulder. "It sounded as if the two of you were getting on rather well under the circumstances?" From the tone of his voice, he was obviously asking a question, rather than making a statement.

"I don't know. I suppose," Harry mumbled.

They were quiet for a few minutes and then Severus said quietly, "Just tell me what's wrong, child. I can't help if I don't know what's wrong."

"It's just...that well, you've said that you love me more than him, and that you'd put me first, and I said that I knew that." Harry ducked his head and finished in a whisper, "But maybe I don't know it as well as I thought I did."

"You're worried that I might care for Draco more than for you?" Severus asked in disbelief. "Harry, look at me."

When Harry hesitated, Severus reached to lightly take his son's chin between his fingers and turned Harry's face so that he could peer intently into his eyes.

"Harry, you are my son. You will always be my son, and I love you with all my heart. Nothing could ever change that," Severus said firmly.

It was only then, gazing into his father's eyes and hearing his promise, that Harry realized how worried he truly had been. He blinked hard, but couldn't hold back the tears that filled his eyes and silently slipped down his cheeks.

Then Severus pulled him close, wrapping his arms around him and cradling Harry's head to his chest. Harry clutched his father's robes and leaned against him while Severus gently stroked his hair and murmured soft reassureances. They sat like that for a long time, just holding one another and sharing quiet comfort.

When they finally pulled apart, Severus spoke in a regretful tone. "I am sorry if I have done anything to make you doubt your place in my heart, Harry."

"No, you didn't." Harry shook his head. "It's just me. I don't know why I was being so stupid..."

Severus raised an eyebrow and just said in a mock warning tone, "Frogs..."

Remembering his father's teasing from earlier that day, Harry had to laugh a little.

"That's better." Severus reached over to take his son's hand and lightly squeeze his fingers. "But Harry, I don't want you to ever worry that I might care for someone else more than you. That could never happen. It is simply an impossibility. There is no one else like you. You are such an amazing young man; generous and selfless and compassionate."

Severus paused, and then reached to lay his hand against Harry's cheek. "Harry, every morning when I wake, I look forward to spending the day with you. I have never been happier in my life than I have been since you became my son. I am very grateful to you for giving me the chance to be your father. I love you."

Harry's eyes misted again, but his smile was joyful. "I love you, too, Dad."

He wrapped his arms around Severus and hugged him again, tightly. Severus returned the embrace, patting Harry on the back gently, and then kissed the top of his head.

"There now," he said when they had sat back against the sofa. "But Harry, whenever you are worried or have a problem of any kind, I want you to come to me. I know that it might be difficult for you. In the past you never had any adult to turn to for guidance, but believe me, child, I want to help you in any way that I can."

Harry nodded. "I do know it, Dad. Really I do. But if it's something like this, it's still kind of hard."

Severus studied him, his eyes warm and soft. "Harry, what if one of your friends or I had some trouble or difficulty? Wouldn't you want us to confide in you? Wouldn't you want to help?"

"Well, yeah, of course." Harry gave him a wry look. "Okay, Dad, I get it."

"Good. Remember it." Severus slid an arm around his shoulders. They summoned a couple of books and settled down to read, with Harry tucked against his father's side and Severus holding him close.

***

The next morning Severus sat in a chair in Draco's room, waiting for Poppy to come to check on the boy's recovery. He couldn't help but feel guilty over the conversation that he and Harry had had last night, that despite his efforts he had still caused his son even one moment of anxiety. He had thought that, after all this time and everything they had been through together, Harry felt secure with him, that he knew how much Severus loved him. To learn that Harry had truly worried about his place in Severus' heart had shaken him.

And what was the solution? Obviously Severus needed to be sure to spend time with Harry, to tell and show him how much he meant to Severus. And Severus had been trying to do that, but apparently he hadn't done enough. It was just so difficult, when he had precious little free time these days between tutoring the two boys, planning their lessons, and grading their work.

Then again, Draco needed someone to comfort and guide him, too. It couldn't be Severus though. Severus had realized that anew last night. It just wasn't fair to his own son, not when Harry was still so hurt and insecure himself. Perhaps, providing he could make more time to meet Harry's needs, he could still be something of a mentor to Draco, but he simply could not be Draco's main father figure.

He didn't want to just abandon the boy completely, though, especially not now, when Draco was just beginning to make some changes in his attitude and his life, and when he was also so vulnerable. Severus didn't want to see his godson go to Azkaban, and more importantly, he knew that Harry didn't want that either.

So they were going to have to come up with some other solution for Draco. Severus just wasn't sure what yet. He had spoken briefly with Albus the other night, but Zan had appeared before they had had much time to discuss matters.

Well, he would pay another visit to Hogwarts today after Poppy's visit, and insist that Albus come up with some way to give Draco the support he needed, while ensuring that Severus had more time for Harry.

"Severus?"

Draco's voice, uncharacteristically quiet and meek, cut through Severus' ruminations.

Severus gave himself a mental shake and turned to look at his godson. Draco was sitting up in the bed, watching him thoughtfully. Draco had insisted on dressing in proper clothes this morning...a sure sign that he was feeling stronger...so rather than his silk pyjamas he was wearing a dark blue plaid shirt underneath an ivory jumper, and grey trousers. He was still pale, though, and his silver eyes were troubled.

"Yes?" Severus asked.

"May I ask you a question?"

"Apparently so," Severus responded. When Draco frowned slightly at him, he simply shook his head and gestured for the boy to continue. "Yes, you may."

Draco took a deep breath. "Well, you used to hate...Harry, and I couldn't help but wonder what happened to make you change your mind."

Severus considered whether to answer and if so, how much to say. He didn't want to mention his old feud with James Potter or to reveal information that Harry would want to keep private.

Finally he said, "I once despised Harry because I badly misjudged him. Long before he even came to Hogwarts, I assumed that he would be spoiled and conceited, that he would consider himself better than others and think that he was too good to follow rules or to respect anyone. Then the fact that Harry was sorted into Gryffindor made my prejudices even worse. I'm afraid that I never gave him a chance or considered the possibility that I might be wrong. I was too blind and too stubborn to let myself see the real Harry Potter."

"But when Harry had to come here last summer and we were forced to live together and share a home, I began to get to know him. It was a gradual process. As you know, I find it difficult to admit that I am wrong, but finally I could not deny the truth any longer. Harry is a wonderful person, Draco. I have never met anyone as kind and generous as he is. Once I had gotten to know Harry, I couldn't help but change."

Draco was quiet for a while and Severus thought he was finished with the topic, but then Draco said, so quietly that Severus almost couldn't hear him.

"The things you said, about thinking that Harry was spoiled and conceited, and thought he was better than everyone else...that's how I am, aren't I?"

Severus considered his reply carefully. "You used to be, but I think perhaps you've begun to change." He leaned forward slightly, speaking in a low but intent voice. "You can change, Draco. You can become a better person, and I think you've already taken the first steps towards that."

Draco clasped his hands together and looked down at them. "When my father took me to that meeting last year...you did know that he took me to a Death Eater meeting last year, didn't you, Severus?"

Severus nodded. He himself had not been present at that meeting. For some reason Voldemort had not called him to that one, but he had heard of Draco's presence at it.

"Well, they were hurting people, Muggles, and...and laughing and jeering at them while they screamed and died. When all that was going on..." Draco broke off and swallowed hard before he was able to continue. "Well, I knew then that I didn't want to be a Death Eater. I knew I couldn't hurt people like that."

Severus hesitated, but then reached to take Draco's hand and give it a comforting squeeze. "You are a good person, Draco. You have a conscience and the ability to empathize. You haven't spent enough time developing those qualities before now, but it isn't too late. You can work on it now."

Draco looked up and gave Severus an almost desperate look. "I don't know how."

Severus clasped the boy's fingers again, gently, before letting go and sitting back. "Treat others the way that you would like for them to treat you. Before you say or do something, think of how it would make the other person feel. It isn't that difficult, truly."

Draco studied him. "You've changed too, Severus."

Severus nodded. "I hope so."

"Because of Harry?"

Severus was a little surprised at Draco's perception. He nodded again. "Yes, Harry has inspired me to try to become a better person. I hope I am succeeding."

Before Draco could respond the Floo roared to life and Poppy stepped from the fireplace.

"Good morning, Severus. How are you feeling today, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Better, thank you, Madam Pomfrey."

Draco's tone was friendlier and more polite than usual, and Severus hoped that it was indeed a new beginning for Draco. He watched as Poppy went over to the bed and ran through some spells before finally nodding in satisfaction.

"You're recovering well, Mr. Malfoy. I want you to continue taking blood replenisher every eight hours for today and you should be able to stop by tomorrow. You may get out of bed if you wish, but you are still to rest and not exert yourself for a few more days."

The medi-witch turned to Severus. "He is not to resume physical chores until after the weekend, but studying and schoolwork should be fine. Now I'm afraid I must return to Hogwarts. There has been an unfortunate outbreak of spattergroit among the first-years."

She turned to leave and Severus stood to accompany her. "Thank you, Poppy. I'll go with you. I need to see Albus."

The medi-witch tossed Floo powder into the fireplace grate and disappeared in a rush of green flames. Severus started after her, but Draco called to him.

"Severus?"

"Yes?" Severus paused and arched a questioning eyebrow at him.

"May I go down to the library and read that Muggle art book again?" Draco asked.

"Harry studies in the library in the mornings. Wait until after lunch," Severus instructed before following Poppy off to Hogwarts.

Draco sighed but nodded. Severus vanished, leaving Draco alone in the small room. He reached for his textbook on the night table beside the bed and then leaned back against his pillow to read.

But the chapter on memory charms could not hold his attention and Draco spent much of the morning lost in his own thoughts, his gaze turned inward while he pondered past events and future possibilities with new eyes.

Harry's stomach rumbled, dragging his attention away from his textbook and notes. He glanced at the clock on the library wall, noting with some surprise that it was after one o'clock in the afternoon. Zan had come to fetch him for lunch earlier, but Harry had asked him to just put a stasis spell over his plate. Severus had said earlier that he was going to Hogwarts to speak with Dumbledore about making plans for Draco, and Harry had been engrossed in his work and had not wanted to stop, even to eat. He had figured that if he were going to be dining by himself that it wouldn't really matter if he ate a little late.

He hadn't intended to wait quite this long though. Somehow while he had been reviewing the steps to brewing the antidote for curare poisons, an entire hour had slipped by.

Harry looked back down at his notes, which completely covered the small table by the window where he usually sat. He had to grin a little at the sight. Who would ever guessed that he, Harry Potter, would become so involved with Potions that he would forget to eat lunch?

Though to be perfectly honest, he really wasn't any more interested in Potions than he ever had been, but his last brewing session had been such a disaster. He had made so many ridiculous mistakes and wasted ingredients, some of which were rather expensive, Harry knew, and still his father had been so patient and understanding with him. Harry was determined that he would do better next time. Not just better; no, he was going to be outstanding and make his father proud.

So he had finished his other assignments as quickly as possible this morning and then had settled down to study Potions with an intensity that he had rarely shown before.

But now it was a full hour past lunch and Harry had to admit that he was pretty hungry. He started to gather up his notes and his textbook to put them away when a rustle and the sound of footsteps made him look up to see Draco standing in the library doorway.

The blond boy was dressed impeccably in a blue plaid shirt underneath a pale ivory jumper and grey trousers. At once Harry felt shabby in his Cannons sweatshirt and blue jeans and he had to remind himself that he too had a wardrobe full of fine clothes upstairs. But his sweatshirt and jeans were warm and soft and particularly comfortable so he had decided to dress more casually today.

Harry waited to see if Draco would sneer or look down his nose at him, but the other boy just looked uncertain, almost scared. It wasn't like the old Draco, but then again he did seem to be changing.

Draco swallowed. "I wanted to get a book to read. Severus said you would be finished in here by lunch so I thought it would be all right to come now."

Harry thought of how distraught the Slytherin boy had been the other night, how he had even apologized, and he just couldn't bring himself to bristle at Draco now.

"It's all right, I guess. I'm leaving." He turned his attention back to his notes, expecting Draco to head over to the library shelves to search for his book, but Draco slowly approached Harry instead.

"What are you studying? Oh, the curare anti-dote...that can be tricky."

Harry hesitated before finally nodding in agreement. "Yeah."

"I helped Severus brew that one time, but I mixed up the Abyssinian shrivelfig and the hellebore and caused an explosion. Severus was a bit annoyed," Draco finished wryly.

The corners of Harry's mouth quirked upwards before he realized it. "You really caused a potion to explode?"

"Worse than anything Longbottom ever did. Severus' office was a total wreck. You should have seen him standing there with the antidote dripping from his hair and off the end of his nose." Draco smiled at the memory and Harry was surprised to see that it was a real smile, not a sneer or a smirk. "Of course I suppose I didn't look much better."

Harry's tentative smile bloomed into a full-fledged grin. He and Draco stood there for a moment before Harry realized that the two of them were practically being friendly.

But as soon as that thought occurred to him, he began to feel awkward again and quickly turned back to gathering his parchment. "Yeah, well..."

"Wait," Draco protested as Harry started to leave. "Maybe I could...you know, help you study?"

Harry gave him an incredulous look. "You're offering to help me?"

"Well, these nerve-based anti-dotes are notoriously difficult and Potions is one of my strengths," Draco pointed out.

"Weren't you just telling me how you caused an explosion brewing this?" Harry raised his eyebrow at Draco.

"Please, I was twelve then," Draco scoffed. "I could brew this anti-dote in my sleep now."

"You were brewing sixth-year potions when you were twelve?" Harry couldn't help but be impressed. Of course, he reminded himself, Hermione had successfully brewed the notoriously difficult polyjuice potion at twelve also.

"Well, I wasn't really brewing it myself. I was helping Severus," Draco admitted.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Why would you want to help me?"

Draco bit his lip. He was quiet for a long moment before saying in a low voice, "Well, I know I can't make up for the things I did to you, but I really am sorry, and..." His voice trailed off.

Harry felt a flash of anger. "You think helping me with Potions can make up for enslaving me and running to the papers about it!"

"No!" Draco protested at once. He gazed at Harry with uncertain, yet earnest, eyes. "I know I can't make up for any of that. I said so, didn't I? But I just thought...I don't know, that maybe I could help you."

He swallowed. "And besides, as much as I enjoy my own company, it can get..." Draco flushed and ducked his head before mumbling, "rather lonely not ever seeing anyone."

Harry crossed his arms. "You see Severus and the elves."

Draco sighed and his shoulders slumped, almost imperceptibly, before he turned away. "I meant someone our age, but yeah, I can't blame you for hating me."

Draco headed for the nearest book shelf while Harry watched him in silence, feeling torn. He wasn't sure he wanted to spend time with Draco, indeed the whole idea seemed crazy. After all, he had been saying all along that he didn't want to be around the other boy.

But he didn't really hate Draco anymore. After last night, when he had seen firsthand how haunted Draco was, Harry couldn't help but feel a little sympathy for him, and the other boy did seem to be changing.

"I guess we could try it," Harry heard himself say.

Draco turned around to face him and though his face was carefully neutral, his shoulders lifted and his silver eyes lightened for a minute. "All right, that would be good."

"But I haven't had lunch yet and I'm starving." Harry hesitated. "I guess I could eat in here."

Draco eyed the small round table near the window. "I think we're going to need more space. I don't have my wand, but can you do an engorgio spell?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Considering that it's a fourth-year charm, I would certainly hope so."

A short while later they were seated at the now-enlarged table. Zan brought Harry's lunch...a bowl of tomato soup and a sandwich, along with butterbeer...and Draco motioned towards Harry's notes.

"Do you mind if I spread these out so we can go over them?"

"Sure, go ahead." Harry took a bite of his sandwich.

Draco paused and watched him. "What is that?"

Harry chewed the bite and swallowed it. "A peanut butter and banana sandwich. You want to try one?"

Draco shot him a look of incredulous disgust. "I think not."

Harry shrugged. "Your loss. It's good."

Draco shook his head and pointed to Harry's notes. "Look, here where you have that you need to chop the shrivelfig leaves, you really have to ground them up. Most people don't get them fine enough..."

Harry took a drink of butterbeer and leaned closer to study the parchment. "Ok, but don't you have to be sure they still have some juice?"

"No, that's the hellebore roots that need to retain some juice," Draco told him.

The two boys pored over the notes, the dark-haired and blond heads bent together as they discussed the finer points of brewing the curare anti-dote.

"So we are going to have to come up with some alternatives for Draco, Albus. He needs a full-time mentor, someone who can be devoted to guiding and healing him. But I cannot be that person. It's not fair to Harry," Severus finished, leaning forward slightly with his hands resting on his knees, fingers steepled.

He and Albus were in the headmaster's private study, sitting in crimson leather armchairs before a blazing fire. Cups of tea and a tray of watercress sandwiches rested on a low table between them.

Severus had been there for most of the morning. He had not intended to stay for so long, but Albus had had one delay after another. A member of the Board of Governors had dropped by unexpectedly; Poppy had needed his approval to order some expensive medicinal potions for the infirmary; and Sybyll Trelawney just had to vent her latest frustrations on sharing the Divination post with the centaur Firenze.

Then when Severus had thought they would finally be left alone, Professor Grubbly-Plank had caused a potentially dangerous leak in seventh-year Potions by incorrectly brewing the Invigoration Draught. Both Severus and Albus had had to go down to the dungeons to rectify the matter and to check if any of the students had inhaled damaging fumes.

"Ah, Severus," Albus had sighed once they were back in his office. "I miss you and Harry, but I also truly need you back here. Professor Grubbly-Plank is fine with the lower classes, but the NEWT Level potions are beyond her skills, and Professor Sinistra simply does not have your knack for managing Slytherin House either."

Severus had been regretful, but firm. He and Harry had both sacrificed plenty in the past. Now it was time for them to do what was best for them.

"I will not push Harry to return before he is ready, Albus, if indeed he ever is," Severus had replied. "Perhaps you could take over the NEWT classes, or it might even be time to look for a permanent instructor, one who has a Potions degree?"

Albus had looked at him sorrowfully. "So you are not planning to return at all then?"

Severus had shrugged. "I don't know, Albus. Harry is not ready right now, and I have promised not to pressure him. In any case, I have considered resigning once he finished at Hogwarts. I think we all know that I am not a born teacher."

"You have always been gifted at Potions, Severus, and this year you had made great improvements in relating to the students," Albus had said softly.

"I have tried, but I believe I will be much happier devoting myself to research. I had intended to stay for these two years while Harry finished his education, but now, who knows? It may take two years or more before he feels comfortable leaving home and facing the world, and I will let him decide that for himself."

Severus had shrugged again. "Under these circumstances, it is not right to keep inferior instructors in place hoping that I might return in the future. You must do what is best for the students right now."

Albus had reluctantly nodded. "You are correct, Severus, I know. But I cannot stop hoping that you and Harry might decide to come back. I will take over the NEWT classes as you suggest, and perhaps consider looking for a new Potions professor next term if nothing changes."

Albus had given him a sudden sharper glance. "But I believe that you had come to speak with me about our young Slytherin friend? We didn't have much time to talk the other night."

So Severus had told him all about the events of the past few days in detail. Now they both sat in silence, watching the orange flames crackle happily as they licked the logs in the fireplace grate.

Finally Albus stirred. "Severus, do you know who has official custody of Draco now?"

"I had assumed that the Tonks' family did," Severus answered.

Albus nodded. "Yes, as Lucius is imprisoned and has lost parental rights, that leaves Andromeda Tonks as Draco's next of kin. Andromeda and Ted Tonks are travelling abroad though. Nymphadora told me that they had decided to leave Britain when Voldemort returned to power, thinking that in all probability, Bellatrix would be likely to harm Ted. As you know, Dora refused to accompany them and stayed to help with the war effort."

"Yes, most commendable of her," Severus admitted, though Dora Tonks had always grated on his nerves with her happy-go-lucky personality and incessant chatter, he had to admit that she had courage in spades.

"I have spoken with Andromeda and Ted, and they are happily settled in Bermuda and have no wish to return to our fair isle, so for practical terms that means that Dora and her fiance will be the ones dealing with Draco," Albus continued.

Severus raised an eyebrow and waited.

"Did you know that Dora Tonks and Remus Lupin are engaged?" Albus inquired.

Severus frowned but before he could speak, Albus continued, "It strikes me that there is one simple solution to all our troubles, Severus. If you allow Remus Lupin to assist with tutoring, it would give you more free time to spend with Harry. It would also give Draco and Remus a chance to get to know one another, which would be good for the both of them as they will become a family once Remus and Dora are married in the spring."

Severus scowled at him. "I've already told you that I don't want Lupin in my home, Albus!"

"He doesn't have to set foot in Prince Hall. He could work with the boys here," Albus replied. "And Severus, I know that there is bad history between the two of you, but consider all the advantages. You said that you needed to have more time with Harry and that Draco needed a stable father-figure. Remus is already going to be in that position. What solution could be more perfect, for all of you?"

Severus leaped from his chair and stalked around the room, his black robes billowing. He was torn with conflicting emotions. He despised Remus Lupin. The werewolf might not have been as smug and arrogant as the other Marauders had been, but he had been a weakling, never daring to stand up for his convictions and blindly following along with their wishes. Not to mention how irresponsible Lupin had been the year he had been teaching at Hogwarts. What if he had bitten one of the students when he had so carelessly forgotten his Wolfsbane?

And not just any students...Harry had been in Lupin's direct sights that night. What if Lupin had bitten his son? Or one of Harry's closest friends? For Severus had to admit that he grown fond of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. They were true friends and they loved his son.

Yet Albus was right. It would solve a lot of problems if Lupin took over some of the tutoring and associated chores. It would give Severus more time with Harry...and it could potentially be very good for Draco.

Harry would probably like to see Lupin again anyway. He had always been close to the werewolf, for some reason. Severus didn't like that either, but he cared for Harry enough that he would not interfere. He gave an inward sigh and conceded the point.

"Very well, Albus," he said evenly. "Contact Lupin and see if he is willing."

"Then, once you add the Glumbumble, the potion should change to a deep violet, and that's the final step except to let it simmer for a half-hour. Then that's it; you're done," Draco finished.

Harry was impressed in spite of himself at Draco's easy familiarity with the steps to the complex anti-dote. "That's a lot to remember."

"Well, it is a NEWT level potion, Potter," Draco drawled. Immediately he looked alarmed. "Sorry, I meant to call you ‘Harry'. I just forgot, but I didn't mean anything." He seemed to realize that he was babbling and abruptly stopped.

Harry shrugged. "S'okay. I'm not sure whether to think of you as ‘Draco' or ‘Malfoy'."

The other boy was quiet for a moment before hesitantly offering, "You could call me ‘Draco'. If you wanted, that is..."

Harry gave him a considering look. "All right."

Draco smiled again, one of his rare genuine smiles, but before he could speak, there was the sound of someone clearing his throat from the doorway and both boys turned to find Severus standing there, watching them.

Harry thought his father must have been shocked to find the two of them voluntarily spending time together...he was still rather shocked by it himself...but as usual, Severus was composed, only raising an eyebrow as he stepped into the library.

"I must say that I did not expect to find the two of you together."

Harry grinned and jumped up to greet him. "Hi, Dad. You were gone a long time."

He went over to Severus and his father's hand curled around the back of his neck as Severus smiled down at him.

"Yes, unfortunately Albus was having a busy morning. We were interrupted several times." He looked from Harry to Draco sitting at the table covered with parchment and back to Harry. "It seems that you two have been busy."

Harry nodded. "Draco was helping me study. I think I understand how to brew that anti-dote now. Hey, could we go down to the lab and I could try it, while it's still fresh in my mind?"

"You're asking to brew a potion? This is a day for miracles," Severus remarked dryly before agreeing. "But yes, I suppose we could. Draco, as it is also your study time, I want you to read chapter nine from your Charms text, on memory charms."

Draco nodded. "Yes, sir."

He stood to leave, his face closed and emotionless again. Watching him, Harry felt a pang of compassion. It must be hard for Draco, to see Severus and Harry so close and to feel left out and alone. Harry remembered what the other boy had said about being lonely and an idea popped into his mind. For a second he hesitated, unsure if he really wanted to invite Draco or not.

But then as Draco turned to face them, Harry caught a glimpse of hurt in his silver eyes. Draco tried so hard to hide his emotions, Harry knew...it must be a Slytherin trait. But he hadn't been able to conceal his pain these last few days and Harry couldn't help being touched by it.

And he didn't have to worry that his father would care more for Draco now. Severus' hand, still curled around the back of his neck, was warm and protective and steady...just like his father's love for him. Harry knew that now, without any reservations. That knowledge made him feel even more compassionate towards Draco and made it easier to reach out to him.

He turned to his father. "Dad, could Draco come too and help? You do let us work with a partner in class after all."

Severus might have been able to hide his surprise earlier, but this request seemed to be too much even for his equilibrium. He stared at his son in stunned speechlessness for long moments. Harry glanced over at Draco and found the blond boy also gazing at him in bug-eyed shock.

Hmm, he would have to mark this day on his calendar. It wasn't often that he could completely dumbfound two of the most composed Slytherins. Harry grinned at the thought.

"Well?" He pressed after a few moments of silence. "Is it all right? If Draco wants to, that is," He added, giving the other boy a questioning look.

Draco nodded, and he and Harry both gazed entreatingly at Severus.

Severus finally recovered the power of speech. "Who are you and what did you do with my son?"

"Wow, Dad, you're actually joking now too," Harry said approvingly.

"Only partially," Severus responded. But then he agreed. "Very well. I suppose it would be all right if you and Draco are both amenable to the idea."

Harry nodded and Draco said, trying not to sound eager but not entirely succeeding, "Yes, sir. I've already read that chapter on memory charms anyway."

"Good. We'll have a quiz on it tomorrow," Severus told him.

Draco groaned, but not even that news could dampen his pleasure at being included. He turned to Harry. "Um, thanks. Thanks for letting me come along, Harry."

"It's all right, no big deal," Harry replied, feeling a little embarrassed that the small gesture seemed to mean so much to Draco.

But Draco shook his head and said quietly, "Yes, it is. It is a big deal and I'm grateful."

Harry could feel himself turning red, but before he had to answer Severus' hand, still curled around the back of his neck, gave a gentle squeeze and his father spoke, "Well then, let's go, shall we, gentlemen?"

Harry went to grab his notes and potions text and then the three of them headed downstairs to the enormous cellar that Severus had converted to a laboratory, office, and storerooms. The curved staircase opened into the laboratory, a large room with stone walls lined with shelves and cabinets, a stone floor, and a long worktable in the center.

Once they entered, Severus stood aside. He usually had Harry start a potion on his own while he observed from a slight distance, only stepping in if it were necessary. He had the idea that letting Harry work independently and not hanging over his shoulder would help his son to feel more comfortable about brewing. Harry wasn't sure if Severus' strategy was working or not; he still felt anxious whenever it came time to work on the practical sessions of potions.

But today was going to be different, he told himself as he set his materials on a corner of the work table. He had studied hard and he felt more confident than usual about brewing the anti-dote. Besides, Draco was helping and the Slytherin boy was excellent at potions.

He glanced over at Draco, expecting him to take charge as he always had back in class at Hogwarts, but to his surprise, Draco was hanging back too, allowing Harry to take the lead.

Oh great. Now he decides not to be a show off. But okay, I can do this. Harry took a deep breath.

"Okay, um...Draco, why don't you get a cauldron and set the water to boiling...the cauldrons are in that cabinet over there...while I get the ingredients."

He wasn't accustomed to Draco's improved attitude and half-expected him to argue or complain, but Draco cheerfully agreed and headed for the cauldron cabinet. After a second Harry turned to the shelf stocked with various plant leaves. He caught his father's eye as he did so, and Severus smiled at him, a warm reassuring smile.

Harry smiled back, and the knot of tension inside his stomach eased.

***

"You did very well today," Severus commented later that night. He was sitting on the sofa in his upstairs sitting room, with Harry curled comfortably on the other end. They were alone; Draco had returned to his room to study on his own, and they each had a book open, but so far neither had read much.

Harry grinned, feeling inordinately pleased with himself, but then again, he didn't often have such unqualified success with potions. "I can't believe you gave me an ‘O'! I've never gotten an ‘O' in potions before."

"You deserved it. The anti-dote was perfect. I couldn't have done a better job myself. But, as well as you did there, I was not referring only to your brewing." Severus smiled at his son and his black eyes glowed with pride and warmth.

"Oh, you mean with Draco?"

"You have such a generous and forgiving nature, Harry," Severus told him quietly. "When I think of all that you have suffered, and yet you remain so kindhearted and selfless, always so willing to give others a chance, even if they have hurt you...well, it puts me to shame."

"Dad..." Harry began uncomfortably. He did love knowing that his father was proud of him, but praise always made him feel awkward and he also hated for Severus to put himself down.

But Severus shook his head. "I don't mean to embarrass you, but you are a truly noble person, Harry. I want you to know that I admire you and that I wish I had handled my own troubles with half as much grace as you have. I wish I had had your compassion and empathy."

Harry wasn't sure how to respond but before he could think of a way, Severus cleared his throat and spoke more briskly, "I have news for you."

"About Draco? What did you and Dumbledore decide to do about him?" Even as he asked, Harry realized that he wasn't sure what he wanted Severus' answer to be. At one time, even just a couple of days ago, he had wanted Draco gone, though not sent to Azkaban. But now...well, now he wasn't so sure what he wanted.

He didn't want Draco living at Prince Hall permanently, but he supposed it might be all right for him to stay a while longer. Harry certainly didn't want the other boy to go to Azkaban now. Some people probably wouldn't understand that, after all that Draco had done to hurt him. Harry had a feeling that Ron might not, not at first anyway. But Draco really hadn't known what he was doing then; he truly had thought that the curse would be some minor and temporary inconvenience. As horrible as the slavery curse was, and Harry was still crushed inside when he thought about being a slave, he didn't want Draco to have to suffer in Azkaban.

Especially now that he seemed to be changing. Azkaban would punish Draco, but it wouldn't make him into better person. Harry was sure of that. And he wanted Draco to become a better person, he realized. The other boy had potential. It wasn't his fault that his parents had been abusive bigoted idiots.

Now, being around Harry and Severus, Norie and Zan...it did seem to be helping Draco and Harry decided that it would be all right for him to stay on, at least for a while.

He realized suddenly that Severus was speaking.

"...are going to be related, anyhow, after the wedding. We thought it might be a good solution for everyone."

"Um, sorry, Dad, I missed most of that," Harry admitted.

Severus looked at him in fond exasperation. "I said that your werewolf friend, Lupin, is going to help with tutoring you and Draco. That will give me more time to spend with you and, as Lupin is going to marry Draco's cousin in the spring, it seemed like a good idea to have the two of them spend some time together."

Harry stared at him in slack-jawed amazement. "Remus! He's going to tutor us? And marry...who?" For a moment Harry was so overcome with shock that he couldn't think of who Draco's cousin would be, and why in the world Remus would want to marry into the Malfoy family.

Then something in his brain clicked. Narcissa Malfoy and Andromeda Tonks were sisters, weren't they? Which would mean...

"Tonks? Remus is marrying Tonks?"

"Nymphadora Tonks." Severus nodded. "Yes, in the spring, according to Albus. He also said that the two of them are in the process of acquiring a larger flat in London. Once they have procured it, Draco might be able to go and live there, unless Albus decides to re-admit him to Hogwarts. He said that he wanted to speak with you about your feelings towards Draco before making a decision on that."

Harry just blinked at him, blindsided by this news. Remus...showing up out of the blue after all these months, tutoring them, marrying Tonks, Draco living with them. It was just too much to take in all at once. He shook his head, feeling dazed.

"Harry? Are you all right?" Severus leaned towards him in concern. "I thought you would be happy."

Harry tried to recover his composure. "I am. I'm just...surprised, that's all. I haven't heard from Remus for a long time."

Not since last spring at the Department of Mysteries. But Harry didn't want to think about that. He didn't want to remember how pale and stricken Remus had looked after Sirius had died, or wonder if Remus hated him now.

He didn't want to remember how Remus had vanished into thin air all through that long fourth-year when Harry had been so overwhelmed and anxious about the Triwizard Tournament or later, when he had been terrified and guilt-ridden over Voldemort's return.

A small voice in the back of Harry's mind tried to whisper that for someone who supposedly had been such a good friend to James and Lily, Remus had not been very supportive of their son.

But how could he blame Remus for any of that after he, Harry, had caused Sirius' death? How could he blame Remus for not wanting to be around him? Sirius' death had been hard for Harry, but it must have been much worse for Remus. After all, Sirius had been his childhood friend. How would he, Harry, feel towards someone who killed Ron or Hermione?

But he couldn't bear to think of any of that. Harry tried desperately to push those thoughts away and concentrate on the present.

"You don't look very happy," Severus said softly.

Harry realized that his father was watching him in concern. "I am...really. I just can't believe it. How come you agreed to let Remus tutor? I thought you hated him."

Severus shrugged. "Hate is too strong a word, though Lupin is certainly not one of my favourite persons. But allowing him to share the workload just seems like a perfect solution to our situation. I will have more time to spend with you now, and perhaps Lupin and Draco could learn to get along."

Harry thought back to third-year. "I don't know about that, Dad. They didn't get on so well when Remus was at Hogwarts."

"Yes, well, a great deal has changed since then, and as they are going to be related soon, it would behoove them both to make amends," Severus responded.

Harry had to smile at him. "Did you know that you and Hermione are the only people I know who talk like you've swallowed a dictionary?"

"There is no fault in having a proper vocabulary." Severus raised an eyebrow at him. Then he reached to take Harry's fingers in his own, squeezing them lightly before letting go.

"I also know that you are close to Lupin and I will not restrict your friendship."

Harry himself wasn't so sure about whether or not he and Remus were such good friends, but he decided not to mention that to his father right now. A discussion about his relationship with Remus could easily lead to a discussion about Sirius, and Harry didn't feel up to that.

He took a deep breath. "So how is this going to work? Remus tutoring us? And will Draco and I still work separately?"

"I had planned for the two of you to continue studying on your own, but I suppose that could be up to you, Harry. If you wish to study with Draco, I suppose you could."

Harry wasn't sure about that either. "Can I think about that one?"

"Of course," Severus nodded. "Anyway, Lupin is going to take over tutoring in Charms and Transfiguration while I will continue to teach Defense and Potions, of course. Albus sent him copies of my plans today so he could see what we've covered these past weeks and he will begin working with you tomorrow morning, at Hogwarts."

Tomorrow, Harry thought. Tomorrow he would see Remus again. At once the time seemed both too soon and too far away.

Then he looked back up at his father. "Hogwarts? Not with other students though, right?"

"No, not with other students, not unless you wish it," Severus reassured him. "Albus has said that you may use his private study."

Harry sighed in relief. He loved seeing his friends, Ron and Hermione, and Ginny, Neville, and Luna, too. But he wasn't ready to see anyone else and he didn't know if he would ever want to. "Good."

Severus looked at him sorrowfully for a moment, but he only said, "It's growing late and we have to be up early."

"You're going too?" Harry asked him.

"Yes, for tomorrow morning at least. I want to go over Lupin's plans and make sure they are satisfactory. I won't have your education lacking," Severus replied.

In spite of Severus' rather condescending words, Harry thought there might be more to it than that. His father was quite observant and he might have noticed that Harry was a little uneasy about seeing Remus again...well, a lot uneasy, to be honest.

He smiled at his father. "Thanks, Dad. Good night, then."

Harry headed off to his own room and slipped into bed a few minutes later, but sleep was elusive. When it finally came, his dreams were haunted by visions of Sirius falling through the veil and Remus turning to him with bitter, hate-filled eyes before he too vanished into the mists, leaving Harry alone with his grief.

Harry woke early, just as the sun peeked over the horizon to chase away the heavy grey dimness of the fading night. He was still tired, but was too restless and uneasy to fall back asleep. With a sigh, he threw back the bedcovers and hurried to his bathroom, shivering in the chilly air. Perhaps a shower would make him feel better.

He shed his flannel pyjamas and underclothes, tossed them into the hamper, and stepped into the shower, turning the water on as hot as he could stand it. For a long time he luxuriated in the warmth, concentrating on washing and trying not to let himself think about seeing Remus in just a couple more hours.

But finally the water turned cool and Harry had to admit that he was as clean as it was possible to be. So he turned the shower off, snatched a fluffy towel from the rack on the wall, and stepped out, sinking his toes into the thick ivory rug that covered part of the marble floor. As he reached for his glasses on the counter, the thought struck him, just out of the blue, how different his life was now from what it had once been: his own bedroom and bath, the chance to take a long, hot shower whenever he wished, little luxuries like soft towels and rugs. Back when he had lived with the Dursleys, he had only dreamed of such things.

And now...now he had them, and so much more besides. He had Severus and his friends and a beautiful home. All of a sudden Harry felt a little better, stronger and more prepared to face the morning. It was a good thing too, for his clock chimed the half-hour, and he realized that he would need to hurry to make it to breakfast. There was no more time for lagging about.

Harry quickly selected some items from his wardrobe: underclothes, a pale yellow shirt, a dark green fleece pullover, and khaki trousers. He normally preferred his jeans, but since he would be studying at Hogwarts this morning he thought that perhaps he should wear something a little nicer. He pulled on tan socks and brown loafers, brushed his teeth and hair, and hurried downstairs to breakfast.

Severus was already there, as usual, reading the newspaper and frowning down at it.

"Morning, Dad," Harry slid into his chair beside his father. "Is something wrong?"

Severus laid the paper aside. "There has been another attack by Fenrir Greyback."

"Oh, no. What happened?" Harry asked.

Severus grimaced. "Do you wish to know right now? It's not pleasant breakfast conversation."

Harry shrugged. "Well, you don't have to be graphic or anything."

"He attacked and killed a small boy last night, in a village close to Dundee. The child's sisters attend Hogwarts, incidentally. Do you know Alice and Brianna Montgomery?"

Harry had vague images of two younger girls with curly blonde hair. "I think so. They're Ravenclaws, aren't they?"

"Yes," Severus sighed. "It will be a sad day for their family."

They were quiet for a moment and then Harry remarked, "But I thought werewolves only bit people and infected them. I mean, that's horrible and all, but I didn't think they actually killed people."

"Normally they do bite with the intention of passing on lycanthropy," Severus replied. "But werewolves are savage creatures, Harry. Without Wolfsbane, they do not retain human characteristics during the night of a full moon. Remember that. No matter how kind-hearted or mild-mannered the person is most of the time, once he or she has transformed into the wolf, it is a violent dangerous monster. And sometimes they are so carried away by bloodlust that they do murder their victim."

A grim memory flashed through Harry's mind: Remus changing into a werewolf that night at the end of third-year. He rarely remembered how frightening that had been because so much else had happened and besides, none of them had been hurt. When Harry thought of Remus he always saw the gentle teacher who had helped him learn the Patronus Charm and had shared stories of his parents.

But now he remembered, vividly, Remus' head and body lengthening into a monstrous form with matted fur and fangs, his blue eyes mutating into a blazing inhuman gold. For a moment Harry thought he could still hear anguished wails and then murderous howls lingering in the air. He couldn't help but shiver.

But recalling the transformation and the fact that last night had been a full moon brought another thought to mind.

"Dad? How is Remus going to be able to tutor us today?" Harry asked. "He's usually pretty ill the day after the full moon."

"For the past year Lupin has been receiving an improved version of Wolfsbane, one that eases the pain of the transformation and the recovery time. Albus assured me that Lupin would be in fit condition to work with you and Draco today," Severus replied.

"That's great." Harry eyed his father. "Did you invent it? You created the original Wolfsbane, didn't you?"

Severus nodded briefly, looking slightly uncomfortable. "Yes, to both questions."

"That's awesome, Dad. Aren't you proud? You should be," Harry told him.

"There's always a sense of satisfaction when an experiment works correctly," Severus answered rather stiffly. A faint tinge of pink stained his cheeks and he kept his eyes downcast on his plate.

Harry studied him, wondering why Severus seemed so unsettled by praise.

"I think it's really wonderful that you created something that can make so much of a difference in people's lives," he said softly. "And not just for werewolves, but for people who may be spared being attacked. And if the new Wolfsbane can make transformations easier, then maybe werewolves could start leading more normal lives and there wouldn't be so much prejudice against them. It's a really great thing, Dad. You're very gifted at potions and I'm proud of you."

Harry reached over and clasped his father's hand in comfort and support, as Severus had done for him so many times before.

Severus had to clear his throat before he could answer, his voice rough with emotion. "Harry, thank you."

He took a deep breath before continuing awkwardly, hesitantly. "That means a great deal to me, more than you can know. When I was growing up, I always longed for approval, to make my family proud of me. At least to find a friend or a mentor who...,"

Severus' voice trailed off and he shrugged. "Well, I accepted that it was a lost cause and I told myself that I didn't need anyone's support, that craving such things was a sign of weakness. I am still...unaccustomed to praise. But I will not deny that your opinion is very important to me."

Harry squeezed his hand tightly. Through Severus' sparse words he could imagine his father as a lonely little boy and a young man desperate to know that someone cared for him, always striving to please people who could not be satisfied and blaming himself when he inevitably fell short. He could hear the years of hurt and loneliness that had scarred Severus.

He had known that Severus had had an unhappy childhood, of course. His father had already confided as much, though he had never gone into much detail. And Harry knew that he had been affected by it. But Severus always seemed so self-assured now, so strong and confident, that Harry had not thought much about whether he was still hurt over it.

Which was pretty stupid of him, actually, Harry realized, because he of all people should know exactly what it was like to have a so-called family who didn't give a damn about you, and to pretend that it didn't really matter.

But Severus had him now, and Harry vowed that he would do everything that he could to help his father heal, just like Severus did for him.

"Well, my opinion is that you're really wonderful. Yes, you are," he said firmly when Severus started to object. "I know you've made mistakes in the past, but you know what, Dad? When you've done something wrong, you try to fix it and make it right again, even when it's really hard or scary or means that you have to make sacrifices. A lot of people won't do that, not when it's really hard for them."

"And you've changed so much. Everyone talks about changing and trying to become better, but you really do it. You're so much nicer to people now and more fair. When you care about someone or something, you're totally committed. You don't back off or give up when things are tough."

"Like with me," Harry went on. "We both know that I've been in pretty bad shape, off and on, since summer. And I guess I'm still not over it. But it has helped me to know that you really mean all the things that you've said and done. It helps me to know that I can always go to you for help and that you really want to be my dad. And I want you to know that I'm proud to be your son, too."

There was a long silence before Severus replied in a husky voice. "I only wish I deserved your praise, Harry, but it does mean more to me than you will ever know."

"But you do deserve it, Dad," Harry told him. "Do you remember one time you were talking with me, and I said that it was easier to believe in the bad stuff, and you said that the good things were true and for me to try harder to believe in that? Well, I think you need to do that, too."

Severus smiled and gently squeezed Harry's fingers in return before letting go. "Perhaps we can both work on that."

He cleared his throat again and said more briskly, "Finish your breakfast, Harry. It's almost time to leave."

Harry swallowed hard, his nerves suddenly returning full force as he realized that he would be seeing Remus again for the first time since the battle at the Department of Mysteries. He'd gotten so involved in talking with his father that for a few minutes he'd actually forgotten.

He wondered what he would do if Remus did accuse him of Sirius' death. Well, no, Severus was going to be there and Remus probably wouldn't say anything to blame Harry with his father there. But he might well be thinking it and it would hurt more than Harry could bear to see the condemnation in Remus' eyes.

But he couldn't blame Remus for being upset with him. He deserved it after all, so he would just have to bear it as well as he could.

"Harry?" Severus questioned softly.

Harry felt a brief but almost overwhelming desire to beg his father to forget the whole thing, to just run up to his room and hide there forever. But of course he knew he couldn't do that, not when he was already being such a huge coward about facing people, not when Severus had already given up his position at Hogwarts and had taken on so much extra work to tutor him and Draco privately.

In some ways perhaps, Severus was making a concession in working with Remus, but it would undeniably be helpful to him to have someone else share the burden. He would have more time to himself, to relax, to brew his potions, and to spend with his son, which was his primary motivation, Harry knew.

There was just no way that he could back out of seeing Remus now, even if he did feel up to explaining his guilt over Sirius' death...which he didn't.

So Harry pushed his breakfast plate away, lifted his chin, and said resolutely, "I'm ready now. I just need to get my school bag from the library."

A few moments later they were stepping from the fireplace into the headmaster's private sitting room at Hogwarts. Once Harry and Severus were safely out of the grate, the emerald Floo flames returned to the normal fire that warmed the small room. Dumbledore and Remus Lupin had been sitting in armchairs, apparently chatting and sipping cups of coffee. But now they set their drinks aside and stood to greet the newcomers.

Dumbledore looked the same as always, in silver robes and with his long white hair and beard neatly combed. Harry scarcely registered him; his attention was transfixed on Remus.

The last Marauder looked better than Harry had ever seen him. Usually Remus looked tired and haggard, no matter the time of month. As long as Harry had known him, he had been thin to the point of gauntness and his face lined and unhappy, making him seem older than his thirty-seven years.

Now, though Remus' light brown hair was streaked with grey, he looked younger and more relaxed than Harry had expected. He was still lean, but had filled out somewhat. Gone were the shabby threadbare suits that he often wore. Today he was dressed neatly in a blue shirt and grey trousers with a grey robe over them. When he stood, his movements were easy and graceful. No one would ever guess that he had undergone the werewolf transformation only the night before.

The thought flickered through Harry's mind that the new Wolfsbane must be one heck of a potion.

"Harry!" Remus exclaimed, stepping forward and holding out his hand. "It's good to see you again." He studied Harry carefully. "How are you?"

After all the scenarios he had imagined and halfway dreaded, this seemed rather anti-climatic. And confusing. Remus certainly did not seem to be angry, and for a second, Harry almost felt upset with him. Shouldn't Remus be grieving for Sirius? And if he wasn't angry with Harry, why had he let months go by with no contact?

But then, it wouldn't be the first time he had disappeared without a trace, would it?

And how was he supposed to answer Remus' greeting? Surely Remus knew about the slavery spell. Surely Dumbledore had told him how Severus and Harry had reconciled and had become a family. Surely Remus understood the circumstances that had resulted in him tutoring Harry and Draco.

There had been so many drastic changes in Harry's life since the last time he and Remus had seen one another that it was impossible to reply casually now.

But after a second he found himself shaking hands with Remus and answering, "Um, fine, I guess. How are you?"

"I'm doing better now. I'm not sure why Dora ever thought that I was worthwhile, but she's been very good for me," Remus smiled, though his blue eyes were serious as they appraised Harry.

But the only reference he made to the upheaval that Harry had gone through the past months was to say questioningly, "You look well."

Severus was standing close beside his son and Harry could sense him bristling indignantly at that remark. He expected his father to make some scathing comment in return, but Severus remained silent, perhaps waiting to see how Harry responded.

But Harry wasn't sure how to respond.

He just looked at Remus for a few seconds, wondering whether he should try to explain how painful the slavery spell was for him, how deep a depression he had been in the past summer months, and how devastated he had been when the Daily Prophet had proclaimed the news to everyone.

And yet how his most cherished dreams of a home and a family had come true also during those difficult months, how much he and Severus loved one another, and how much joy that brought him.

And Sirius. For the past five months Harry had done his best not to think of Sirius, which was probably really horrible of him. It had been shamefully easy to push his godfather's death to the back of his mind. The slavery spell and all the changes it had wrought in his life had been so consuming.

But now Remus' presence was summoning all of those repressed memories back to the forefront of his mind.

Or trying to, anyway. But Harry just couldn't think about Sirius now. He couldn't, because if he did, the grief and pain would overwhelm him and now was not a good time to deal with it.

Harry made a Herculean effort and shoved those thoughts away. He wouldn't be able to do that forever, he knew, but maybe he could for a while longer.

"Um, so do you," he finally said.

Remus nodded, but he didn't look completely satisfied with Harry's answer. "Thank you. Like I said, Dora gets a lot of credit...and so do you, Severus."

He turned his attention to the Potions master, still standing protectively at Harry's shoulder.

"The new Wolfsbane is like a miracle, Severus. I can never thank you enough."

Severus merely nodded. "I trust you've been keeping the journal on your reactions. I hope to submit the formula to the Ministry soon and they'll want your reports as well."

"Of course. And on a similar note, Albus said that you would like to go over my lesson plans this morning." Remus moved to a side table and reached for a briefcase that rested on it. He took out several sheets of parchment and handed them to Severus.

"Of course these are rudimentary. I read through your notes yesterday afternoon and came up with a very general outline for the rest of the term, plus more detailed plans for today and tomorrow. I'll write a more thorough overview this weekend, if you want to meet again on Monday."

Severus reached to take the parchment from him and looked at his son, as if gauging Harry's well-being before sinking into an armchair to read Remus' plans.

Remus motioned to the table. "Harry, why don't you come over here and we'll get started?"

So that was it then? After all this time and everything they had shared...and not shared...and it was all settled with a handshake and a few casual questions?

But Harry wasn't sure what else to say or do so he just followed Remus' directions and went to sit with him at the table.

Dumbledore had remained uncharacteristically silent and in the background but now he spoke up. "Well, it seems that Remus and Harry are ready to begin. Severus, when you've finished, could you come into my office? I'd like to talk with you about your new Wolfsbane potion. Remus and I were discussing the tragic news about the Montgomery boy and how it will likely fuel prejudice against werewolves, which in turn could drive some of them to Greyback's side. If your potion is ready for distribution soon, it might be a step towards healing the breech."

"Aside from the obvious fact that Greyback and his ilk are indeed monsters who prey on the innocent and will never willingly take a dose of Wolfsbane?" Severus asked dryly.

But then he nodded. "But yes, we must do what we can for the sake of the rest. Very well, Albus. I will join you soon."

Dumbledore nodded and swept into his adjoining office.

Remus' lips had tightened at the mention of Greyback and his eyes were shadowed. But then he turned back to Harry and he was focused on the task at hand again.

It occurred to Harry that perhaps he and Remus were more alike than he'd realized, both of them determined to hide from their own troubled thoughts. He almost wanted to talk with Remus about it all then, but he had no idea what to say.

Remus was already speaking, anyway. "So Harry, you've been studying Temperature Charms lately? Right then, mark off an area around us and set a Cooling Charm."

It was much easier to simply draw his wand and concentrate on the spell.

The morning passed quickly. Remus kept Harry so busy practicing Cooling and Warming Charms that he scarcely noticed when Severus stepped into the next room. After the practical demonstration of Charms, Remus asked Harry a series of questions based on the textbook and then they moved on to Transfiguration, a more difficult subject for Harry. He had shown no sign of success in being an Animagus, to his dismay, and Severus had begun teaching him to cast glamours instead.

"You must have a very clear image in your mind of how you wish to look before casting the spell," Remus said. "It takes a great deal of concentration."

Harry wanted to tell him that they might as well call it a day then; his concentration for this morning was pretty much shot. He was just too bemused by seeing Remus again. He had had such strong emotions about this reunion, both good and bad, and it had not been what he'd expected, at all. Remus didn't seem to be angry with him. He'd seemed pleased to see Harry again, but as always, there was an emotional chasm between them.

Harry couldn't decide whether he was relieved or disappointed when Remus said they'd done enough work for one day, that it was almost time for Draco's session.

As if on cue, the Floo sounded and Severus and Draco came through.

"But I can't. Severus!" the other boy was saying in a panic-stricken voice.

If Harry's feelings about Remus were confused, Draco's were perfectly clear. He took one look at Remus and all the colour drained from his face.

"Stay away from me," he whispered shakily, his skin grey and his eyes wide with terror.

"Draco, I promise..." Remus began in a gentle tone. He held out his hand.

But Draco spun on his heel and fled.

For a second after Draco had raced out of the study, the others just stood in stunned amazement. From his office, they heard Dumbledore's voice calling Draco's name, but no response.

Then Severus shook his head. "I should have realized that he is still terribly wounded," he murmured to no one in particular and strode quickly out of the room, black robes billowing.

Harry hurried after him.

Draco was not in Dumbledore's office and the headmaster was already gliding towards the open door leading to the circular staircase. Severus and Harry followed him out of the room and down the twisting stairs until they saw Draco huddled at the foot of the steps, his back to the closed door leading to the outside corridor, drawing in quick shaky breaths.

"Draco," Severus began.

But before he or the headmaster could say or do anything else, Harry slipped by them and went to kneel beside the other boy. He wasn't exactly sure why, but something about Draco's fear reminded him of himself, when he had been small and imprisoned in a dark cupboard at the Dursleys, or even later, after Voldemort's return at the end of the Triwizard Tournament.

It was terrible to be so frightened and alone. Harry knew all about that.

"It's all right, Draco," he said softly. "Don't be afraid. Remus won't hurt you."

The blond boy swallowed and slowly focused his gaze on Harry. "But he's...one of them, a werewolf."

"Remus is a werewolf, but he's nothing like Greyback," Harry replied firmly. "Remus is very careful to make sure he doesn't hurt anyone."

The small voice in his head that had an irritating habit of pointing out uncomfortable truths reminded Harry that as a boy Remus had run free about the countryside with his Animagus companions and even more recently that there had been a time when he had neglected to take Wolfsbane and had placed Harry and his friends in danger. But Harry knew that Remus had been deeply shaken by those failings and surely he was more careful now.

So Harry pushed the little voice away and continued to reassure Draco. "You can't just judge a whole group of people by one of them. Some wizards are evil, like Voldemort and Bellatrix Lestrange...and Dolohov," he added, remembering that Dolohov was also one of the those who had attacked the Malfoys. "But then a lot of wizards are good, like Severus and Dumbledore. Everybody's different. And werewolves are the same. Just because Greyback is horrible that doesn't mean you have to be afraid of Remus. Remus has never done anything to you, and he never will."

"But he doesn't like me. I know he doesn't." Spots of faint color tinged Draco's pale cheeks. "I was not always very nice back in third year."

Harry couldn't help it. He had to laugh. His own mixed-up emotions combined with Draco's euphemistic words overcame him and he laughed and laughed.

"No, you weren't always very nice back in third year. Actually, Draco, you were horrible back in third year, and fourth year, and fifth year wasn't a glowing character reference for you, either."

Draco looked at Harry as if he'd lost his mind, but then slowly his anxiety faded and the blond boy's lips twitched. He gave a hiccupping little laugh that almost sounded like a sob. "You're crazy, Potter."

"Yep, and so are you, Malfoy," Harry agreed cheerfully.

Draco was silent a moment and then said quietly, "You know, I think I like it better when we're calling each other by our first names."

"Yeah, me too." Harry stood and held out a hand. "So how about it, Draco? Let's go back upstairs."

When Draco still hesitated, he added. "Remus would never hurt you, Draco. I promise."

"Harry is right," Remus spoke up.

Both boys looked up to find the three men, Remus, Severus, and Dumbledore, standing on the stairs above them. Remus slowly slipped by the headmaster and then Severus, a feat that required some dexterity as the circular staircase was rather narrow. But he stopped several steps away and then sat down on the stair. Harry thought he was probably trying not to crowd too close to Draco, but to give him as much room as possible in the cramped space.

"Draco, I'm very sorry that Greyback killed your mother and has caused you so much suffering," Remus continued softly.

Draco's eyes grew bright at the mention of Narcissa and he quickly looked away, dragging in a deep ragged breath.

"He has caused me great suffering too. He is the werewolf who attacked me when I was only six years old," Remus told them. "He tried to kidnap me and take me to live with his pack of followers, to rob me of anything resembling a normal life. He is a monster and he seeks to create an army of monsters like him."

Remus' voice grew firm. "But I am not like Greyback. Draco, my greatest fear is that I might harm someone during a full moon. But thanks to Severus," Remus paused to nod and smile at the Potions Master. "There is Wolfsbane and it helps me to keep my right mind when I'm in werewolf form. I isolate myself and put up strong wards around my room, just in case anything should go wrong. Dora helps too, by going over the wards to be certain that they're done correctly. I never, never want to hurt anyone as Greyback has."

"As for your behavior during third year, well, we all make mistakes. I'm willing to start over...if you are?" Remus finished with a questioning tone.

Draco stared back at him in silence and Harry wasn't sure what he was thinking or if he would agree to a new beginning with Remus. But finally Draco nodded. "All right...sir."

Remus smiled. "You may call me by name if you'd like."

Draco looked very uncertain but he agreed. "I'll try, hmm, Remus."

Remus smiled encouragingly as he stood. Harry held out his hand again and this time Draco took it and hauled himself back to his feet, taking another deep breath as he did so.

"Well done, Draco," Severus spoke quietly for the first time.

Draco straightened his shoulders and flashed him a grateful look, obviously pleased to have Severus' approval.

Harry just smiled. At one time he would have jealous, but now he knew how much his father loved him and that nothing could affect that. It was a good feeling, to have someone that he could count on to always love him and be there for him.

His gaze strayed to Remus and Harry's smile faded. His parents' friend should have been that person, but for whatever reason, Remus only wanted a casual relationship with Harry.

Well, he had wanted them to be closer...he wanted it still, for that matter, but Harry could accept Remus' desire for emotional distance because he had his father now. He only hoped that Remus would be more open to Draco, as Severus and Dumbledore hoped. With Remus marrying Dora Tonks in the spring, they would be Draco's new family and the other boy needed someone to love and care for him, not someone who would disappear whenever Draco needed him.

"Well done, indeed." Dumbledore beamed at all of them. "Now that everything is settled, I'm afraid I must leave you. Severus, perhaps we can finish our conversation this evening if you and Harry come. But I have a lunch appointment with an applicant for the Potions position...unless Severus and Harry might consider returning?" He ended hopefully.

Harry immediately shook his head. He felt a little bad for disappointing Dumbledore, but he could not bear the thought of leaving his sanctuary at Prince Hall and facing everyone at Hogwarts.

"No, Albus. Harry does not wish to," Severus replied at the same time.

Dumbledore sighed and acquised. "Very well then, I'll be off to my appointment. But Severus, Harry, if you should change your mind, you're always welcome here...and I will not be hiring a replacement until after this term."

He moved down the stairs and the doors swung open. Then he was out of sight.

"Well, Draco, you and I are quite late on our lessons. Let's go back to the study and we might have time to run through a few Temperature Charms before Transfiguration," Remus said.

At Dumbledore's words, Draco had looked sharply at Severus and then at Harry. Then he had dropped his head and stared at the floor. As Remus beckoned to him, the blond boy raised his head and for a moment his eyes met Harry's. Draco's silver eyes were filled with guilt and sorrow. He seemed to want to say something, but then he just dropped his gaze again and silently headed back up the stairs.

Severus reached to touch his shoulder as he went by. "Draco, are you all right now?"

Draco nodded. "Yes, sir," he mumbled and then he disappeared up the circular staircase.

"Severus." Remus inclined his head. Then he turned to Harry. "Harry, it was wonderful to see you again. Read chapter eleven in your Transfiguration text for tomorrow."

"All right," Harry said as Remus followed Draco upstairs, leaving Severus and Harry alone.

Severus held out his arm to Harry, who promptly went to him and leaned close.

Severus' arm tightened about him. "When did you become so mature and wise?"

Harry laughed. "I'm not."

"I disagree, though it does seem like only yesterday that you were a little tyke always sneaking about and rushing headlong into danger. Oh, wait. It was yesterday."

Harry grinned. "Don't worry, Dad. I know better now."

"I certainly hope so." Severus' voice grew serious. "I couldn't live without you."

A warm feeling spread throughout Harry's chest as he met his father's soft black eyes. "I couldn't live without you either."

Severus bowed his head against Harry's for a moment before straightening. He cleared his throat and said lightly, "With that in mind, I was going to ask if you would like for us to fly this afternoon before tea. But you must promise not to perform any of those death-defying aerial stunts that you're so fond of."

"No death-defying stunts?" Harry pretended to pout. "Aw, Dad, you're no fun."

"Or you could begin studying that chapter for Transfiguration," Severus continued.

"Flying it is," Harry said quickly.

Severus smiled as they went up to Dumbledore's office to Floo home.

***

"Harry, tell me you're not becoming mates with Draco Malfoy." Ron scowled down at his cup of cocoa at the mention of the Slytherin boy's name.

It was evening and after a fun afternoon of flying, playing card games, and then dinner, Harry and Severus were back at Hogwarts. Severus and the headmaster were once again perusing through the mountain of historical archives from around the world that they all hoped might contain some clue to abolishing the slavery spell. Harry was visiting with Ron and Hermione in Dumbledore's sitting room.

The first half hour Harry's friends had kept him entertained with school news. Hufflepuff had won their Quidditch match against Ravenclaw. Seamus and Dean had continued to work with Daphne Greengrass and Pansy Parkinson even though Professor Grubbly-Plank had long ago allowed everyone to pick new partners in Potions. Bill had given Ron an Acceptable on his latest Defense quiz, which Ron was quite indignant over because he felt he had deserved Exceeds Expectations at the very least.

"Just because he's my brother he says he has to be especially tough on me so no one will think he's playing favorites," Ron had grumbled. "I mean, like that's bloody likely!"

"Well, he did say he would give you extra credit if you wrote an essay on three types of offensive skills and how they can be counteracted," Hermione had pointed out.

"Acceptable's not that bad, I guess," Ron had quickly replied.

But then Harry had begun telling them about events of the past couple days, and Ron and Hermione were not exactly pleased to learn that Harry and Draco were becoming amiable. Ron in particular seemed upset.

"I wouldn't say we're mates, but he's not so bad." Harry answered defensively.

"Not so bad!" Ron exclaimed in disbelief. "Harry, this is Malfoy we're talking about. The same git who's made us all miserable for the past five years. The same git who calls Hermione that awful name. And the same git who enslaved you and then told everyone about it, just in case you've forgotten."

Harry abruptly jumped up from the sofa and stalked over to the window to stare out at the darkening sky. He was so angry that he didn't trust himself to speak, but it was more than just anger that caused his throat to close and the heaviness in his chest. It was the same raw pain that he had struggled against for months, ever since summer. He was able to hold it at bay a lot of the time now. Sometimes he could even forget it entirely.

But the pain was always there, threatening to overwhelm him.

"Ron," Hermione's voice was quiet but forceful. "How could you say such a thing? Of course Harry hasn't forgotten any of that. And he's having a hard enough time right now. He doesn't need us making it even worse."

She went to Harry's side and took his hand. "Harry, I can't say I like the situation, but I guess it's a good thing that you and Draco are getting on better...if he's really changed. Ron and I just don't want you getting hurt again."

"Is there a problem?" A new voice asked from the doorway.

They all turned to see Severus standing there, his sharp gaze falling on each of them in turn.

Harry found his voice. He appreciated Hermione's support, and he knew deep down that Ron was truly concerned too, but he was still hurt and angry. Suddenly he just wanted to leave and be back at home. He squeezed Hermione's fingers lightly to show his thanks, but moved away to walk over to his father.

"Dad, I need to go. I've still got to read that chapter for Transfiguration."

Severus studied him intently. He started to say something but then stopped, nodded, and only said, "Very well. Let's go then."

"Harry..." Hermione called after him.

But Harry didn't respond. He just couldn't. He hurried through the door to Dumbledore's office, ignoring the headmaster's curious stare, and a few seconds later he was on his way back to Prince Hall.

Harry stepped out of the Floo and into his father's sitting room. Severus was right behind him.

"Harry? What's wrong?" Severus laid a hand on his son's shoulder, studying him in concern.

Harry sighed. "It's nothing, really. Just that Ron's upset because Draco and I are getting on better. Hermione doesn't like it either, actually, but she was a bit more tactful."

"Yes, I can imagine that Ron is not always the soul of tact," Severus agreed dryly. He squeezed Harry's shoulder and asked in a more serious tone. "How do you feel about it all, Harry? The situation with Draco? Your friends' reactions?"

Harry hesitated, considering, and then gave a small uncertain shrug. "I don't know. If I think about it, I mean everything that Draco did to me...well, it still hurts. But I don't hate him."

He paused for a moment, trying to make sense of his own feelings and to find the words to express them, before going on. "He was hurt really bad, too, and he didn't deserve to be tortured and to see his mother killed. I can't help but feel bad for him. But there's more to it than just that. It's like Draco never had much chance before, to be a different kind of person. Now he does. And I think that he deserves that chance. I think the person he's becoming is someone I could be friends with...maybe."

"But it's hard for Ron and Hermione to see and I understand that. But I wish they could try. I hate it when things aren't right between us," Harry finished.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Severus asked gently.

"I don't think so." Harry gave him a wry smile. "We'll work it out. We always do. If we made it through fourth-year, we can make it through this."

"What happened during fourth-year?" Severus asked. "Besides the Tournament, obviously."

Harry hesitated again. Although he was upset with Ron for speaking so hurtfully, he still didn't want to badmouth his friend. Ron truly was sorry that he had turned on Harry in those difficult weeks in fourth-year, and they had made it all up long ago. Complaining about that incident to someone else now seemed disloyal.

But Severus was his father. It would be all right to tell him, Harry decided after a moment.

"Remember how everyone thought that I had put my name in the Goblet at first and lots of people were giving me a hard time about it?" He asked.

Severus nodded, his black eyes soft with remorse. "I remember. Harry, I cannot tell you how much I wish that I had been your father, or at least a friend, back then. I think of it often, of how differently things might have been, of all the ways that I could have helped and protected you."

Harry could not bear the sorrow in his father's voice. "It's all right, Dad. I mean, it was horrible at the end, for sure. But if it hadn't happened, if Voldemort hadn't risen then, then he might still be alive now and the war still going on. As bad as it was, maybe it worked out for the best and saved more lives in the long run."

A painful memory flashed through Harry's mind, one that he didn't think of often anymore, but that still had the power to wound him; Cedric Diggory's lifeless body lying on the ground after Voldemort had ordered his death. He swallowed and said, almost in a whisper, "I just wish that Cedric could have lived, too."

"He was an admirable young man," Severus agreed. "His death was a terrible tragedy."

He gave his son a sharp look. "But it was not your fault. You do know that, don't you, Harry?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. It's hard, but yeah, I know that Voldemort and Wormtail are the ones who really killed him."

It had taken him a long time, and a lot of talks with Ron and Hermione, for him to accept that and Harry still felt vaguely guilty that he had suggested that Cedric take the Triwizard Cup with him. But he had finally come to accept that Cedric's death was not his fault.

Sirius' death, however, was another matter.

Harry swallowed hard and closed his eyes against the pain of remembering his godfather.

Severus touched his shoulder again. "Harry?"

He opened his eyes and went on quickly, determinedly. "But anyway, back at the beginning of fourth-year, Ron believed that I had entered the competition on purpose too, and he was jealous. God only knows why anyone would be jealous of me."

He couldn't keep a touch of bitterness out of his voice, but then frowned at himself. He didn't want to be the kind of person who went about wallowing in self-pity and besides, there were plenty of good things in his life too.

"So we rowed and things were pretty bad between us for a while. But then Ron realized that he'd been wrong and we made it up. Tonight wasn't nearly that bad so I know we'll make it up now, too," he finished.

"Perhaps I should speak with him?" Severus offered.

Harry shook his head. "No, thanks, Dad. I appreciate it, but we'll be all right."

"I know you will," Severus reassured him. "Ron and Hermione are true friends and they care for you very much."

"Yeah, I know." Harry made himself smile, though his heart wasn't really in it. "Well, I do need to read that chapter."

"Good night then."

Severus held him close for a moment and then Harry left him and disappeared into his own rooms across the hall.

Severus kept an eye on things the next day. He could tell that his son was more upset than he'd wanted to let on over his disagreement with his friends and with the comment about how no one should be jealous of him, Harry had let slip that he was still hurting. Though of course, Severus already knew that. Harry had admitted it openly as well.

That knowledge hurt Severus too. He wanted so badly for Harry to be happy, but he didn't know what else he could do to help. It was frustrating; he'd rarely felt so helpless before. The slavery spell was the root cause of much of Harry's unhappiness. Severus was not ready to give up hope of finding a counter-spell, but he and Albus had thoroughly gone over two-thirds of the archives and there had been no mention of anything relating to the slavery spell so far.

But there were still quite a few records to study, and if they couldn't find anything in these papers, they would have to keep searching elsewhere. If it took the rest of his life, Severus would never give up trying to free his son.

He would need to discuss it with Harry again, and soon. Of course they had already talked, several times, about the slavery spell, its effects on Harry's life and emotions, and Severus had repeatedly tried to comfort him. But the slavery spell had had such a profound and devastating impact, not to mention that Harry had already had self-esteem issues, that Severus knew his son would likely need to hear the reassurances over and over again before he could begin to believe in them.

At least Severus hoped, desperately, that Harry would be able to believe in them one day.

Very well then. They needed to talk about how wonderful and noble Harry was again.

But there was also the matter that Harry and Ron Weasley were having difficulties. Once more Severus considered whether he should step in and speak with the red-haired boy, but after Harry had specifically requested him not to, he thought that perhaps he should wait and give them time to work things out on their own.

Of course if that didn't happen soon then Severus might have to take matters into his own hands. After all, he wasn't going to stand back and do nothing when his son was hurting.

He was ruminating on all of this when he accompanied Harry to Hogwarts after breakfast. He didn't really have any excuse this time; Lupin's plans were exemplary, as he'd expected all along. Whatever else he felt towards the last Marauder, Severus had to admit that the man was a talented instructor. But Severus had sensed that for some reason Harry was nervous about seeing Lupin again and had decided that he would be present just in case his son needed him.

He wasn't sure what reason he would give today for going along, but Harry didn't question his presence at all. Indeed, he smiled at Severus when his father followed him towards the fireplace and seemed grateful.

Everything went smoothly though, with Lupin greeting the both of them with casual friendliness. Harry responded in kind, and though he might have been a bit reserved, he didn't seem uneasy with Lupin any longer. Severus watched in brooding silence until they had settled down to lessons. He was about to leave when Albus called to him from his office next door.

"Yes?" Severus stepped into the room, an eyebrow raised.

Albus motioned him to step closer and cast a Muffliato spell about them. "Good morning, Severus. I'm glad you came. I have a message for you...from young Mr. Weasley."

"Oh?" Severus' eyebrow shot a few millimeters higher.

"Yes," Albus nodded, handing him a folded slip of parchment. "He brought it to me at breakfast in the Great Hall this morning and asked if I would pass it on to you as quickly as possible."

Severus opened the note:

Dear Sir,

I'm sorry for bothering you, but I am very worried about Harry. I said something foolish last night and upset him, but I really didn't mean to. I spoke without thinking, but I am honestly concerned. I wondered if I could see you for a few minutes to explain. I know that you love Harry, too, and wouldn't want him to be hurt again. Thank you.

Sincerely yours,

Ron Weasley

Severus read it over a couple times and then looked up at Albus, wondering if he looked as surprised as he felt. It was ironic that he had decided to let matters be, only to have Ron contact him. He supposed it was a sign of how much things had changed in the past months, that Ron Weasley would ask to speak with him about protecting Harry. Then again, the Weasleys were Gryffindors.

He held the note out to Albus. "Would you care to read it?"

"I would not wish for you to betray Mr. Weasley's confidence," Albus replied.

"I doubt he would mind," Severus answered. "The note itself doesn't contain any information you haven't already deduced."

So Albus scanned the missive and then handed it back to Severus, saying, "So this is the explanation for Harry's hasty departure last night."

"Harry told me that his friends are suspicious of Draco and they had had words over it," Severus told him.

"Well, it's understandable, that Harry's friends are concerned, that is," Albus pointed out.

Severus nodded. "Yes, I know. I don't blame them, of course. It is hard to believe, especially for those who haven't been around Draco and haven't seen how he has been affected by events. Harry understands that, too. I have no doubt that they will resolve matters soon."

"Are you going to meet with Mr. Weasley?" Albus asked.

"Yes, with your permission, as I suppose he's in class right now," Severus said.

"I believe the sixth-year Gryffindors have Defense this morning. Shall we go and fetch him?" Albus responded, canceling the Muffliato spell with a quick wave of his wand.

So they left the headmaster's office and made their way through the wide corridors to the Defense classroom on the first floor. Several of the portraits called friendly greetings to them and the suits of armour stood straight at attention.

Severus was a little surprised at how pleased he felt to be back at the school. Of course he had been returning to Hogwarts almost every evening, but he had mostly stayed within Albus' two private rooms...the office and sitting room. It was different to actually be out in the castle, walking the halls and seeing familiar sights. Most of the staff and students were in class, of course, but there were a few young people wandering about. Presumably they had a free period, but Severus was suspicious of a couple that saw them coming and quickly hurried off in the opposite direction.

"Skivers, those two," he muttered to Albus after seeing one pair of youngsters high-tailing it away. "You ought not to let them get away with it, Albus."

"I would be delighted to have you return and take over discipline, Severus," Albus responded cheerfully.

Severus simply huffed, but he had to admit that it felt very comfortable and...right...to be back. Of course Prince Hall was his home, and he loved it dearly, but Hogwarts was home too, perhaps more than he had realized before. For the first time, he actually missed it.

But before he had much time to dwell on his unexpected sentimentality, they came to the Defense classroom where Bill Weasley was supervising practice duels. Albus knocked on the closed door, but there was so much commotion going on inside that no one heard.

"Ah, well, then." Albus shrugged and opened the door, narrowly missing a stinging hex that would have hit him squarely in the face had he not side-stepped with a grace and speed that belied his years. As it was, the jet of blue light missed his ear by a hair's breadth and harmlessly dissipated against the stone wall across the corridor, though a monk in a nearby portrait took no chances and dashed into a neighboring frame.

"Oh, Professor Dumbledore, I'm so sorry. I didn't see you..." a red-faced Pansy Parkinson stammered, the famous Slytherin composure vanishing as she realized her blunder.

Albus simply chuckled and waved her apology away. "No harm done at all, Miss Parkinson. The fault is mine. I should take more care when stepping into the midst of a duel."

He turned his attention to Bill Weasley, who was coaching Seamus Finnegan on his shielding techniques in a far corner of the spacious room. "Professor, forgive us for interrupting but we need to see young Mr. Weasley, if you don't mind."

Bill shot a curious look at his brother before nodding. "Of course, Headmaster."

Ron and Hermione were paired up with Neville Longbottom and as Ron came towards them, Severus noticed that the other two Gryffindors both smiled at him, and even waved. The sight startled him so that he could only stare blankly back at them. Then again, he wasn't sure how he would have responded in any case. Things had changed of course, but was he ready to be openly friendly, not only with his son, but with all Gryffindors in general?

Severus started to scowl out of sheer reflex, but Hermione and Longbottom had already returned to dueling and weren't paying attention to him any longer anyway. He turned and noticed another surprising sight; that Pansy Parkinson's dueling partner was Dean Thomas...and the two of them were actually chatting and laughing together.

Hmm, things definitely had changed at Hogwarts.

"I believe you asked to speak with me?" Severus arched his eyebrow at Ron Weasley as the boy joined them in the hall and Albus closed the door to the Defense classroom.

He had to give Ron credit for Gryffindor courage. The boy met his eyes and nodded calmly. "Yes, sir. Thanks for seeing me."

Albus spoke, "I'm sure the two of you would appreciate some privacy so I'll be on my way. In any case, I'm teaching a NEWT level Potions class later today and I ought to look over my plans." He nodded to them and swept away with a swirl of his violet robes.

As he looked down at Ron, Severus realized that he wasn't entirely sure how to refer to the boy. Somehow he had grown accustomed to calling his son's friends by their given names when they visited with Harry. And of course he always called students' by their surnames when he taught them. But this situation seemed to be middle ground.

So he just didn't address Ron by name at all. "Shall we head down to my rooms?"

"Yes, sir."

They walked down to the dungeons in silence. As they passed by the Potions classroom where Professor Grubbly-Plank was instructing the third-years on how to brew a Shrinking Solution, Severus' footsteps slowed involuntarily and he glanced inside.

"They are supposed to skin the shrivelfigs," he muttered crossly under his breath. He was speaking to himself and was surprised when Ron spoke, also very softly.

"It's not the same without you and Harry here, sir. We all wish you'd come back."

"Myself as well? I never thought I would hear you say such a thing," Severus responded dryly.

"I never thought I would either," Ron promptly replied.

Severus' lips quirked and he had to stop himself from chuckling aloud. He tried to hide his amusement by shooting a dark look at Ron, but the boy didn't seem at all intimidated.

Severus sighed to himself. First Hermione and Longbottom were happy to see him and now this. He really had lost his touch.

Ah well, he had said he wanted to become a better person. He supposed he should consider these signs a mark of progress.

Further down the corridor they came to the door leading to Severus' quarters. And Harry's quarters, too, Severus reminded himself with a smile.

He held out his wand to the door, quickly tapping a complex pattern, and murmured, "Asphodel".

The door silently swung open and Severus led the way in.

He lit the parlour with a quickly muttered lumos and then paused to look about. Everything was as it had been when he and Harry had left over a month ago. The tall bookcase along one wall was empty as Severus had packed the books and taken them back to Prince Hall, but that was the only difference. The sofa and armchairs, the paintings and mirror, and the vase of Floo powder on the mantel were all in place and there was no trace of dust or cobwebs. Obviously the Hogwarts' elves were taking excellent care of things.

He realized that Ron was speaking.

"Are you sure you want me to know your password, sir?"

"Actually, you could scream ‘asphodel' at the door and it wouldn't admit you unless you also know the correct pattern with your wand," Severus replied. "But as a matter of fact, I do consider you trustworthy, Ron. I believe you know that by now."

Ron flushed and looked down at the floor. "Thank you, sir."

Severus nodded and motioned for him to sit in one of the armchairs. "Would you care for tea before we begin?"

"Um, sure. Thanks."

So Severus ordered a pot of tea and two cups before taking a seat himself in the other chair. Almost at once a silver teapot, two cups, and tiny containers of sugar and cream appeared on a small round table between them. Severus poured himself a cup and indicated that Ron should do the same.

After a few sips Severus focused on the boy and spoke. "Well? You did ask to speak with me?"

Ron nodded and set his cup down. "Yes, sir. I did."