By the end of October, Harry and Neil were fast friends. Harry still received letters from Ron and Hermione every other week, forwarded dutifully by Poppy Pomfrey. Harry was extremely grateful to the medi-witch for keeping his whereabouts confidential and still making it possible to keep in touch with his friends.

There were times he missed them terribly and the letters helped alleviate this longing, at least somewhat. He had told Hermione, rather cautiously, about Neil and of course, his beloved beagle, who still drove the Prince household insane with her mischievous ways. He'd even sent a snapshot of himself and Rosie to Hermione, who had oohed and awed over it till Ron wanted to gag.

Hermione had written back that she was glad he seemed to be settling into his new home and getting along with Snape. Harry had told them how the elder wizard truly loved and cared for him and also how annoyed he still was at Dumbledore for keeping his parentage a secret from him all those years. That time not even Ron tried to defend the Headmaster, considering that the old man's meddling had forced their friend to go into hiding and be sent to live with relatives who hated him.

Hermione said that she was happy that Harry at last had a real family, especially now that he had lost his magic. She also said that Harry needn't be concerned that Ron might be jealous of Neil, since it was only logical Harry make friends his own age.

It was Ron who kept Harry informed on the latest news at Hogwarts. Professor Lupin was an awesome DADA teacher, he'd shown the class how to defeat a boggart and also other useful spells for protection and defense. Sirius Black was still at large and the Ministry had assigned dementors from Azkaban to patrol the school, though Dumbledore disliked it and refused to allow them on the school grounds. It was rumored by the Daily Prophet that Black was still seeking Harry in order to kill him and the reporters had also remarked on the fact that Harry was no longer attending Hogwarts. Hagrid was teaching Care of Magical Creatures and had introduced them to a hippogriff named Buckbeak, who had nearly clawed Malfoy's arm off for being a snot. Harry had to laugh, Malfoy deserved everything he got, the spoiled brat. At least Harry didn't have to put up with Malfoy's attitude any longer.

Ron also described play by play all the Quidditch matches between the Houses, knowing Harry would love that. Quidditch was one of the few things about being a wizard that Harry could still enjoy. He could discuss it and play it even without recourse to all of his magic.

Severus had tested him again, at his son's request, and discovered that the stray bits and pieces of Harry's magical aura had grown into a pile of sparks that swirled and danced inside of him, burning softly yet brightly.

Harry's magic still wasn't healed enough to cast spells, but his magic was slowly mending and someday the sparks might grow into a flame, and then into a raging bonfire.

The young wizard prayed every night for that miracle to occur.

Meanwhile, he had Neil, Rosie, and Mia for companionship and laughs, Severus for a father, and Aurelia as a cross between an aunt and a grandmother. Their little family wasn't perfect, but it was all his and he never need fear losing it, no matter if he was the worst brat in the world, as Severus had pointed out to him after a fierce quarrel, the outcome of which resulted in Harry being grounded for a weekend.

That punishment had far reaching consequences not only for Harry but also Neil, who had invited Harry to come and see a Quidditch match along with his older brother Mike. It was the Alphas versus the Star Seekers, a North versus South grudge match with plenty of tension, playing for the coveted World Cup position.

Too bad Harry hadn't realized that before he'd mouthed off to his father. Of course he'd been terribly disappointed, had in fact begged Severus to give him any other punishment of his choosing, and had written the required essay with three alternative punishments-taking away his Nimbus for a week, making him do extra chores around the house, and pickling disgusting potion ingredients for the weekend. But his father had simply shaken his head and said adamantly, "No, this time my original decision stands, Harry. You should have thought about the consequences of your bad behavior before you shot your mouth off, young man. Perhaps next time you will learn to think before you speak."

"But-but, Dad! Couldn't you just let me go to the game and then ground me after? It'd still be a weekend, and you could add a few hours or whatever. Please? It's the final game and Neil's already bought the tickets."

Harry flashed Severus his most pleading look, one he'd perfected as a two-year-old to get out of serious trouble. (Although it hadn't worked that time with James's wand.)

Severus merely gave his son a look that meant he was quite disappointed and determined to teach the youngster a lesson, no matter how much it hurt. "That's too bad, Harry, but you'll have to tell Neil you can't go and to find someone else to use your ticket."

Harry scowled at his stern parent and fought an urge to stomp his foot the way he'd done when he was two. He clenched his teeth and growled, "That bloody sucks, Dad! I can't believe you'd do this to me."

"I'll do worse unless you moderate your tone and your language, Harrison Remus Snape!" This time the look Harry got from his father was reminiscent of the old snarky Potions Master.

Harry had immediately become contrite. "Sorry, sir. May I go now? I have to firecall Neil."

Neil was understandably upset that Harry had gotten himself in trouble, he'd been looking forward to going with a friend of his own for once. "Usually Mike gets one of his dumb friends to come along and I end up getting stuck at the end row, going deaf from the announcer screaming in my ear. Merlin, Harry, what'd you do to get your old man pissed off like that, crash your broom into the front window?"

"Uh, no." He cocked an eyebrow at the sandy-haired boy. "Why? Did you do that?"

"Not me, that was Mike and his show-off friends, practicing some new moves and not watching where they were flying." Neil related. "And don't try and change the subject, Snape. What did you do to get punished by missing the best match on the East Coast?"

Harry sighed. "I, uh, was kind of disrespectful to my aunt, and when Dad yelled at me for it, I . . .er . . .answered him back." He found himself flushing in remembered shame. "I said some things I shouldn't of . . .nasty things, and he lost his temper and this is my punishment."

"Oh." Neil shot him a look that spoke volumes. "Been there and done that. Did you try plea bargaining with him?"

"Yup. He won't budge. He knows making me miss this match is the worst punishment ever." Harry groaned. "Sorry, Neil. I really want to go. I wish I hadn't been so stupid." He rubbed his scar absently, it prickled every now and again, but it hadn't hurt at all since coming to New Jersey.

He noticed Neil tapping his crescent shaped scar thoughtfully, and asked softly, "Uhm, Neil? Where'd you get that . . .um . . crescent scar on your cheek?"

Neil answered, "I'll tell you if you'll tell me where you got yours." He pointed to Harry's distinctive lightning bolt scar.

"I got it when I was a baby," Harry answered, not wanting to reveal all of his past to anyone, knowing it was vital nobody ever find out that he had once been Harry Potter. "It was an accident with a wand." He knew it sounded lame, but it was the best he could come up with.

But Neil accepted it with a nod. "Oh. Spell damage, huh? That explains it. But not mine. I got this when I was five. Fell off my broom into a stand of Dragon Roses, you know, the kind that breathe little spurts of flame. Landed right on a rock and cut my face open. When it finally healed this is what I was left with." He shrugged. "I guess I don't mind all that much. It makes the girls look twice at me though," he added with a sly smirk.

"Liar," Harry teased.

"Okay, maybe they haven't asked me out, but they're thinking about it," Neil argued. "I know what a girl wants."

"Oh? What's that?"

"To be happy with their work and have a guy who appreciates them."

"Who told you that?"

"My mom," Neil admitted with another smirk. "Sometimes she's pretty smart." He looked uncomfortable for a second, then asked, "Uh, Harry? What happened to your mom? Is your dad divorced or something?"

"No. My mum died when I was two years old." Harry answered honestly.

"Oh. Man, that sucks. Even though mom and I fight like cats and dogs, I'd never want her to be gone forever."

"I don't really remember her all that well, but sometimes . . ." Harry sighed wistfully. "I think I hear her voice or feel her hand on my shoulder. Bonkers, right?"

But Neil did not scoff at him. "Not really. I mean, it's okay for my uncle to see the ghost of his ancestors but not you?" Neil snorted. "Hell, if my mom died, I'd probably be seeing her everywhere, especially if I were afraid."

Harry just nodded, embarrassed that he'd blurted that out at all. Luckily Neil wasn't the type to make fun of him, nor did he try to give Harry a pat speech about things he would forget . . .in time.

Some things were never forgotten. Lily's sacrifice was one of them.

Neil jerked his head out of the fire.

Then he returned and sad, "Mike wants to use the Floo Network. So I gotta go. Good luck, Harry."

The boy's face turned down at the mention of his upcoming punishment. Still, he knew better than to sulk. That would only make things worse.

The weekend of the big match came and Harry glumly went about the house in a funk. Not even Rosie could cheer him up with her silly beagle antics, like lying down with her back feet straight out like a person or chasing her tail and howling. He didn't complain, but he moped and sighed, and when Aurelia asked if he wanted to play cards or watch a movie, he shook his head listlessly and retreated to his bedroom.

Severus exchanged glances with Aurelia. "Maybe you ought to go talk to him, Sev."

"He's sulking, Aunt Relia, and that won't get him anywhere."

"It's normal for a child to sulk after he's been punished," reminded the older woman. "You were no different when I spanked you that time for being a disrespectful brat, you sulked for a whole evening."

"I did not!" Severus objected. "I never-"

"Oh, yes you did, Severus, and I remember it well. You were nine and were angry with me because I wouldn't let you and Melody go to the carnival after supper by yourselves. Then you told me that if you weren't allowed to go by yourself, you didn't want to go at all. And I said if you were going to act like a sulky little brat you could go to your room, then you yelled at me that I wasn't your mother, you didn't have to listen to me, and you were going anyhow, so there!"

"I remember that part," Severus admitted, flushing a bit. "I was a little snot and you walloped my behind good. I deserved it, but it shocked the bloody blazes out of me, since you almost never raised a hand to either of us. I remember Melody cried more than I did, she said she got me in trouble by begging me to go with her in the first place."

"Yes, Melody always hated it when you were in trouble. She looked up to you like a big brother," chuckled Aurelia. "But afterwards, I sent you to your room for twenty minutes and then when I told you to come out, you pouted and whined like a four-year-old, Severus."

"I don't remember that at all," insisted the Potions Master.

"Selective memory, my boy," smirked his aunt. "You were ashamed of your behavior and therefore don't want to remember it. But after I talked to you and told you that I still loved you even if you were a smart-mouthed brat, you quit sulking. Now, go and talk with your son, dear. He needs to know you forgive him for his temper and his nasty mouth."

"Of course I forgive him." Severus began.

"You need to tell him, Sev. He can't read your mind, and sometimes kids just need to hear you say it."

Severus looked doubtful, he assumed his son would know that already, but maybe not. "Very well. But he really ought to know that by now."

He went down the hall and knocked at his son's door.

Aurelia couldn't make out the whole conversation, but she did clearly hear Harry's soft apologies and Severus's reassurance that he forgave him and loved him. A few minutes later, father and son came into the den and Harry agreed to watch a movie with them, his sulkiness banished by those few simple words.

Severus gave his aunt a thumbs-up. Aurelia, you were right, and I'm lucky I still have you to give me advice, because God knows I need it.

Harry went over Neil's to look at pictures the next day, and resolved not to get in any more serious trouble until after Christmas. If he could.

Little did he know that trouble was still stalking him.