The sound of water dripping overhead roused Harry from his unconscious state. He drew in a breath, wincing at the way the air rasped in his throat, which was sore from all the screaming he'd done in the past . . .how long had it been . . .hours, days? He had lost the ability to judge time in this frigid stone cell. His whole world had shrunk to just two things-pain and sleep. Sleep, or what passed for it, brought release from the pain that invaded every pore of his being, thanks to the Cruciatus Curse.

He lay curled on his side, as still as possible, knowing better than to attempt to move. Last time he'd woken and tried to sit up, he'd ended up vomiting convulsively, and then he'd passed out. When he'd opened his eyes, he had noted someone had cleaned it up, though not out of any kind of regard for him he knew. These were Death Eaters, and the only compassion they would show him eventually was death. Harry prayed it was soon, for he didn't know how much more he could take. He'd lost count of the number of times they'd cast the Cruciatus on him, or used that damned knotted cord on him, which hurt worse than Vernon's belt, God help him.

But the worst part was that they didn't even ask him any questions. He was not interrogated and then tortured. He was simply played with. Harry shut his eyes trying to stem the images that rose to the surface. Of the masked figures appearing out of nowhere as he waited with his trunk on the street corner, trying to get his bearings after he'd run away from the Dursleys.

Not that he regretted using his magic on Aunt Marge, God knew the foul woman deserved it after what she'd said about his mother. Serve her right if she became a balloon and floated away forever. The memory of the obese woman drifting through the air screaming and his uncle hanging on to one porky leg and yelling nearly made him smile.

Almost.

A shudder ran through him and he gritted his teeth as it made all the muscles in his body start screaming. But at last the spasm eased and he relaxed a bit upon the hard stone. He was freezing and yet he was also burning up. Fever. Yes, that made sense. Anyone would get sick after lying on a chilly stone floor, feeling like five giants had played football with him.

Stupid bitch. Should have known better than to say such things about Lily to her son. He was a wizard after all, the Boy Who Lived. Although he wasn't going to be alive much longer if he didn't get medical attention, he thought fuzzily. Then again, that was whole point of the Death Eaters snatching him, wasn't it? To kill him, and so prevent him from killing their dark Master, Voldemort.

He sucked in another mouthful of air, let it out slowly. There. That time didn't hurt his ribs quite as much. He wondered if he were slipping into shock. Was this how it felt, this soft drifting? It was much better this way.

Maybe it hadn't been such a brilliant idea to hex Marge, but he'd lost his temper . . .and then he just couldn't stomach being around his awful relatives anymore. He'd had enough of them, thirteen years of their taunts and sneers and hateful looks. He was sick of being called freak and treated like a slave, tired of being Dudley's punching bag and Vernon's scapegoat. Tired of being a no-account brat that didn't matter to anyone.

So he'd left. Grabbed his trunk and Hedwig and took off. He'd had a vague idea of going to Diagon Alley or something before the six masked figures had appeared out of thin air, literally, and ambushed him.

He'd been caught totally unprepared, and they'd disarmed him within minutes and picked him up and brought him . . .here, to the stone cell, his prison, where they intended to make his last moments on earth hell.

He swallowed sharply, his mind spinning off in a totally different direction.

He recalled a soft room, a glowing lamp, and arms holding him. Strong arms that cradled him close and then he heard a voice whisper his name lovingly.

Mum?

"Go to sleep, Harry. It's time for you to rest, baby. Let Daddy rock you to sleep, precious."

He saw his mother's face then, all full of love and smiling down on him, her green eyes glowing with joy as she gazed on her little baby. Her hand stroked his cheek and he sighed and tried to sit up.

Only to have another hand gently push his head back down against a broad shoulder. "No, close your eyes and sleep, son," ordered a familiar voice, deep and silky. Harry squirmed, he really wasn't tired, but then he felt the familiar hand patting him over and over, and he relaxed against his father's shoulder in spite of himself.

Sleep . . .yes, he'd sleep, he loved to sleep all snuggled against his daddy's shoulder. He was safe and warm and so very comfortable . . .Now he could feel his daddy's long fingers in his hair, stroking it lovingly.

Harry reached out a hand, trying to grasp the phantom image. "Don't go . . .please . . ." he heard himself pleading brokenly. "Mum, please . . .don't leave me here . . .Dad . . .I need you . . .don't let me go . . ."

Tears gathered in his eyes, dredged up from some deep well of anguish within him and flowed like salt and acid down his cheeks. He wanted his parents, only they never came. He was alone and he would always be alone.

He heard the creak of a door from far above him.

No . . .were they coming back so soon? He wasn't ready . . .he needed to rest, he needed sleep, he needed to be held . . .where was his father . . .why wasn't he here . . .? he whimpered . . .

"Hush, Potter. Quiet now!"

He quieted. That voice . . .he knew it . . .he'd heard it in his dreams . . .and while he was awake . . .

"Merlin, they haven't left you with a whole patch of skin, bastards!" he felt hands slipped under him and he gasped for they burned like fire.

But he was too weak to move away and all he could do was cry.

"I apologize, I know it hurts," whispered the voice in his ear. "But I daren't risk using magic here. They would sense my signature immediately. So, I have to carry you . . .try and be still . . ."

He felt himself lifted and pain blazed through him and he screamed, but there was a hand holding his mouth shut and all that emerged was a strangled moan.

"Easy . . .breathe . . .breathe through the pain . . .that's right . . ."

The voice was soft, it curled about him and anchored him, he'd heard it long and long ago . . .telling him to go to sleep. . . .His head lolled forward, and he snuggled against a firm shoulder covered in black velvet.

"Good, sleep . . .just what you need . . .go to sleep . . .you won't feel it so much then . . .I have to walk a bit more, find a safe spot to Apparate."

Harry closed his eyes. He was in dreadful pain but somehow it didn't matter. He was safe now. His father had come for him and he was going home.

Home. A place he had never known.

Except once . . .long and long ago.

"Go to sleep, son."

He knew that voice. His father's voice, soft and silky and loving. He sniffled, half-sobbing. Where was his father? He needed him badly.

"Sleep, Potter, for Merlin's sake."

Ah. He was here. Everything was all right. The voice was a bit more impatient than he recalled from before, but it was the same. The very same.

Harry obeyed and spun away into oblivion, passing out cold in the arms of his rescuer, Severus Snape, Potions Master and spy.

Severus gazed down for a moment at the battered wreck of a young boy in his arms and cursed Voldemort's followers to the deepest circle of hell. No child should ever have to endure what this one had. Pursing his lips together, the Potions Master continued walking down the featureless stone passageway, deep in the bowels of a castle in Albania, the secret base of the Death Eaters.

When he judged he was far away enough not to set off any of the wards and alarms, he lowered his head and concentrated.

Seconds later he Apparated away in flicker of blue light, Harry cradled securely in his arms, to an empty clearing in an ancient forest.

Severus dared not Apparate directly to Hogwarts, not with Harry so close to death in his arms. The strain of Apparition would kill him as surely as the wounds inflicted by the Death Eaters. Severus settled down on the forest floor with his precious burden, feeling deftly for a pulse. There. So faint, but it was there.

The Potions Master breathed again.

It had been pure dumb luck that he had been there this night. Lucius had summoned him right after dinner, saying he had some wonderful news to share with his fellow Death Eater. Severus had obeyed, wondering what on earth could make Malfoy senior smile like that. He knew Lucius quite well and the cold-hearted man never had a smile unless he was casting Unforgivables on some poor soul just prior to killing them.

Severus wondered what luckless Muggle or Muggleborn had run afoul of the sadistic man this time, his stomach clenching in revulsion. He prayed Lucius would not ask him to participate this time . . .because the only participating Severus was willing to do was to offer the poor victim a merciful death.

But not this time. This time Severus had been shocked speechless when he saw who was lying in that dingy frigid cell.

Harry Potter, the Golden Boy, half-dead and delirious.

It had been another stroke of luck that he'd managed to convince Lucius to leave him alone with the brat, thus enabling the Order's best spy to rescue the savior of the wizarding world.

Severus knew he was pressed for time. The Death Eaters would not be fooled for long by the doppelganger he'd left behind and once they discovered the ruse they would be after them like bloodhounds on a criminal's track. Still, he could not endanger Potter's life any more than absolutely necessary.

He rummaged about in his emergency potions kit, withdrawing a flask of his strongest pain reliever, the one he usually used on victims of the Cruciatus Curse, a formula of his own invention.

Uncapping the flask, he gently shifted Harry against his shoulder, propping him up so he could administer the draft.

Harry groaned, not liking this new position. It really hurt.

"Potter . . . Harry, I need you to wake up . . .just a bit . . ."

Harry stirred, muttering. Why did he have to wake up . . .it wasn't morning, was it? Besides, he hurt awfully . . .all he wanted was to sleep . . . so the pain would go away . . .

"Come on . . .wake up . . ."

Why was his father so bloody insistent? Couldn't he see Harry was in pain? "Oww . . .hurts . . ." he hissed.

"I know, but you need to take this . . .now open up . . ."

Harry felt the cool lip of a bottle being pressed against his lips and he opened his mouth obediently. This was medicine, he was sick, and his daddy always gave him medicine. "Be a good boy and drink it down, child. Don't spit it out, swallow it. There's my good boy."

He could feel the medicine flow down his throat and he swallowed hard. It hit his stomach and for one instant he thought he was going to vomit it right back up.

But a hand was rubbing his throat and holding his head back. "Good, a little at a time . . .don't think about your stomach . . .just breathe, Harry. The nausea will pass, just concentrate on my voice . . ."

He obeyed, and to his surprise the sick feeling in his stomach was easing as the potion began to work.

Severus waited a few more minutes, then when he was sure Harry wasn't going to spew the potion all over, he put the vial back to the boy's cracked lips and coaxed him to swallow another portion.

"Yes . . .open up . . .now swallow . . .gently . . ."

Harry felt more of the potion slipping down his throat and he sighed, for it tasted strange, but at least he didn't feel like throwing up any more. He felt the hand on his throat again, massaging it gently until all the potion went down.

Then Harry felt himself being shifted upright a bit more and he whimpered, for the movement sent spasms of pain through him.

"Hush . . .you'll be fine, but I need you to sit up some more . . .You don't want to choke do you?"

Harry shook his head, he could feel the pain starting to ease. The cool rim of the glass pressed against his lips once more and he promptly opened his mouth.

"Good . . .drink it slowly . . .don't make me waste a drop, you'll need it all. Swallow. Nice and easy."

The third dose went down easier than the previous one and Severus relaxed a fraction. The vial of pain reliever was almost empty. Snape made Harry finish it all, then he cradled the boy in his arms again and teleported them to the Forbidden Forest.

Once there he removed yet another bottle of pain reliever from his cloak and administered it to the ravaged boy as well. This time Harry drank the liquid much easier.

Severus was relieved. He had feared he was too late but actually he was right on time. Once more he coaxed the half-comatose child into swallowing the pain reliever, until he was satisfied that Potter's wounds were sufficiently dulled before Apparating the rest of the way to the castle.

He was amazed at the boy's pain tolerance, that was not something he'd expected the kid to have much of, considering the type of household he'd grown up in. But Potter's pain tolerance rivaled his own, shockingly enough, otherwise the kid would've been howling by now, even with the double dose of potion. Brave as a Gryffindor yet stoic like a Slytherin, Snape mused before gathering the boy up in his arms and blinking directly in front of the school gates, which swung open at his whispered command, and allowed him passage to the infirmary.

Poppy Pomfrey had seen quite a bit in her tenure as Hogwarts resident medi-witch.  She had patched up any number of students from various Quidditch accidents, potions accidents, charms disasters and unsupervised duels.  She had even on rare occasions dealt with her colleague the Potions Master when he'd returned from his spying duties, fighting the Death Eaters in secret duels.  Yet the boy Severus brought to her now was broken and battered worse than anything she had ever encountered.

"Severus!" she gasped.  "Dear sweet God . . .! Is that Harry?"

"It is, Poppy," he answered, and in his tone was none of the sarcasm that was usually present when he spoke of the Potter boy.  Instead there was . . .dare she think it . . .compassion and a certain empathy for the boy's obvious suffering.  "They've been at him for a day or so . . .I have no idea if I'm accurate in my estimation, but he's lucky to be alive . . .and sane . . ."

"Do you know if he still is?" whispered the Healer, going to her cabinet and grabbing several potions. 

Snape hesitated.  "I . . .it's difficult to say, but he did recognise me a little . . .but he's been in so much pain and delirious since I took him from there . . .still, there's a reasonable chance he is still in his right mind."

Poppy nodded.  "I can't ask you to read him Severus, until I've healed the worst of the physical damage.  What did you dose him with?"

"Two vials of the Extra Strength Class Five Pain Potion," answered the Potions Master.  "I had to, else he would've never survived Apparition."

"You did right, my boy," Poppy replied, smiling warmly at him, a thing which would have shocked most people.  But then again, few people knew that once Severus had been her apprentice Healer, and had confided in her his deepest darkest secret when he was a boy, that he had been abused by his Muggle father for over half his life.  It was Poppy who had comforted a distraught Severus when his mother had died of a rare blood infection when he was sixteen, and since then she had served as a surrogate mother or aunt to the younger man.  She began administering the Blood Replenisher and some Skele-Gro to the unconscious boy.  "Sev, run a diagnostic if you would."

Severus immediately drew his wand and performed the elementary charm, it was one he'd mastered as a child with ease.  Few people realized that he was quite a talented healer, he'd been healing himself for years from his father's beatings before he'd ever attended Hogwarts.  He'd even considered becoming a Healer once, but then he'd discovered Potions was his true calling, though he still kept up with the latest Healing techniques.  In his line of work, he needed to.

"His nervous system is still in shock, overloaded with pain.   That's to be expected.  He's been hit with the Cruciatus more than once," he reported in a quiet professional voice, though he felt his insides clench in sympathetic agony.  He'd been on the receiving end of that curse when Voldemort was alive, so he knew exactly how it felt.  "He's suffering from malnutrition, a broken rib, cracked tibia, lacerations about the back, bottom and thighs, I think he was whipped with a cord." He suppressed a flinch, no one knew how much that hurt better than he did. "He also has a fever and some mild congestion in his lungs." He waved the wand across Harry's legs and discovered a sprained right ankle and a pulled Achilles tendon.  The boy had also bitten his lip raw, probably in an attempt to keep from screaming. 

Severus scowled, recalling that he used to do the same during one of his father's punishment sessions, for Tobias despised boys who cried and had made sure his son never gave into that particular weakness around him.  Severus had become a master at suppressing tears by the time he was seven, and even now he rarely succumbed to them. 

Yet he found himself blinking rapidly when he looked down at the broken wreck of his best friend Lily's child, the scrawny thirteen-year-old would have inspired pity in a dementor, and Severus was far from the cold-hearted individual he pretended. 

Poppy was in full healer mode now, casting spells rapidly and Severus assisted her wordlessly, they had worked together for so long now words were unnecessary.  The Cruciatus Curses Harry had been hit with had done the most damage, and they would not be able to tell how much for some time. But the potions Snape had given him in the beginning had worked very well and Poppy administered another dose once she had mended Potter's rib with a Bone Knit charm, and afterwards Harry had breathed easier.

Severus summoned several salves from the medi-witch's cabinets without being instructed and removed the child's clothing, applying them gently and thoroughly wherever they were needed.  He knew they would need to be reapplied some time tomorrow, for the bruising and lacerations were extensive and would not be cured with just one dose.  Magic made the salves work at an accelerated rate, but even that did not guarantee instantaneous healing. 

But at last he had finished and carefully charmed some pajamas on the slight figure in the bed and waved his wand over the patient again, checking his magical reserves and his mental state.

Potter's mind was dark and fearful, even in sleep, Severus was not surprised, there was an awful lot of emotional trauma there.  He made a mental note to inform the Headmaster that the boy should have counseling at the very least, lest they be left with a suicidal child on their hands. 

As for his magical reserves . . .Severus frowned and repeated the spell. 

And got back nothing, as before.

"What the bloody hell . . .?" he growled, performing the charm again.

"What's the matter, Sev?"

"He's not registering, Poppy.  His magical signature is . . .nonexistent."

"What? But that's . . .impossible!" the nurse went pale.  Then she cast the same spell, trying to read Harry's magical signature, which was never absent from a wizard, even one as badly injured as Harry was.

"Oh dear sweet Merlin!" cried Poppy.  "He's a blank, Severus! I can't sense his magic at all. It's as if . . .he's a Muggle!"

Severus swallowed softly.  "No . . .there's still traces, but . . .it's very faint. . . I think the trauma broke his magical core down, Poppy.  It was too much, whatever they did to him . . .they've shattered his magic."

Tears were streaming down Poppy's face as she stared at Harry's sleeping form.  "Severus . . .what can we do? There's no spell I know of to mend this."

"We call Albus," answered the Potions Master heavily.  If anyone would know something to help the boy, the old wizard would.  "Perhaps he and Fawkes can manage to pull off a miracle."

Poppy moved immediately to the fireplace and firecalled the Headmaster, who had retired to his personal quarters, as it was the middle of the night. 

However, Dumbledore came instantly once the nurse told him what had happened, his purple and silver robes wrinkled, his beard flying every which way, as he stepped out of the fireplace to view the damaged Boy Who Lived, who was now nothing more than an ordinary magicless human.

"What can we do, Albus?" Poppy queried, she was so agitated she was practically in tears.

Neither of the other wizards blamed her. The awful truth hovered like a shadow in the air and Dumbledore performed his own set of charms before settling back in a chair and looking very grave. "I fear, Poppy, that there is nothing we can do for now. The combination of bodily trauma coupled with some kind of emotional stress has rendered the child temporarily magicless. I hope."

Severus frowned. "You hope? What do you mean, Albus? Is the condition reversible or not?"

Albus sighed. "Severus, such cases are rare, so I have no way of knowing if Harry's magic will replenish itself. It may, or it may not, though I hope and pray for the former. Merlin help us, but we have come too far only to fail now. We need Harry whole, in mind, body, and magic."

"Is there anything we can do to help him?" Poppy asked, her brown eyes filling with tears that she hastily wiped away.

"Regrettably, I don't think so, Poppy. He needs time, time to regain his strength and then perhaps . . .his magic might start to replenish itself." He eyed Severus shrewdly. "You did say, Severus, that you could still detect traces of his magic?"

Snape nodded. "Yes. They were very faint, only bits and pieces, but they were there."

Dumbledore seemed to take heart from that statement. "Good. All is not lost. But we must get Harry well, and that I leave in your capable hands, Poppy. Once he is awake, let me know."

"I shall, Headmaster." Pomfrey agreed. "Will you be the one to break the news to him then?"

"Yes. I only hope it does not wound him further. The poor child has been through too much these past days."

Even Severus agreed with that statement. To his eternal shock, he found himself feeling a little sorry for the Golden Boy. Losing one's magic was a terrible thing for a wizard, a loss that could very well break the child. He was grateful that he was not going to be the one to have to tell the boy his magic was gone. Dumbledore was far more understanding and better able to break the awful news gently. Still, Snape did not envy the older wizard that task at all.

"Albus, I would have told you this sooner, but when I was reading Potter's emotional state, I discovered he was very depressed. I would recommend you get him some kind of counseling immediately."

Albus nodded. "Yes, that is only to be expected, after what they did to him." He eyed Severus thoughtfully, and Snape felt a chill squirm its way down his spine. "Are you up for some sessions, my boy? You out of all of us knows first hand what he has gone through."

Inwardly Severus groaned. Why couldn't the old fool leave him in peace? The last thing he wanted was to nurse the Potter brat through several long and angst-ridden psych sessions. "Albus, I'm not sure that's a good idea," he began. "Potter and I don't have the kind of trust necessary to initiate counseling sessions. He hates me and would probably feel too awkward to discuss what he was feeling with me. Perhaps Poppy or Minerva would be a better choice."

But Albus was shaking his head, that damnable twinkle in his eye. "Minerva is too busy with other duties to have counseling sessions."

"And I could never handle hearing the horrible things they did to him without flying off the handle myself," Poppy put in. "And a counselor needs to be calm and professional, not a basket case, Severus. You can put on your mask, but I could never control my emotions to that degree, and well you know it."

Severus heaved a sigh and scowled at both of his mentors. But he couldn't refute their logic. What they said was true. "Very well. I . . .shall endeavor to counsel Potter, if there is no other alternative. But I insist you tell him about the loss of his magic first, Albus. That way we have all the issues on the table at once, no surprises."

Albus nodded. "I shall, and thank you, Severus. Don't worry, it won't be half as bad as you're thinking." He reached out and patted the younger man on the arm and Severus scowled, angry at being treated like a child. "I think these sessions will prove beneficial to both of you."

Snape merely snorted. Dumbledore was an eternal optimist, Merlin help him! Severus only hoped these sessions did not end in the death of one or both of them. If he hadn't promised Lily long ago, before she married James, that he would look after any children she had if she was unable to do so, he would wash his hands of the child and tell Albus to find another teacher willing to mentor the brat. But a promise was a promise, and Snape prided himself on being a man of his word.

He then excused himself to return to his quarters and get some much needed rest. He would return tomorrow morning and assist Poppy with her newest patient, for Potter would need those salves reapplied and though Pomfrey was perfectly capable of doing so, Severus knew it would be best if he reapplied them instead, it would be less embarrassing to the child. Now where on earth had that thought come from? He wondered, rubbing his eyes. Since when did he care whether the brat was embarrassed or not?

A small voice in the back of his head whispered Since you saw him lying all broken on that stone floor. Only then did you see the child, Sev, and not James reincarnated.

Snape irritably told the small voice to shut the bloody hell up and headed back down to the dungeons. He would do a quick check on the cauldrons he'd left brewing in the lab, then get some sleep himself. He knew his cover as a spy might well be compromised after his actions this night, but somehow he did not care much right then.

* * * * *

Harry wandered in and out of consciousness all night and well into the next morning. He half woke to a hand running down his back and he froze, shivering involuntarily in dreadful fear. But then he heard a voice whisper, in a tone that sounded oh-so-familiar, "Hush, no one will hurt you. You're safe. Now relax and stop shaking, I'm trying to put some bruise balm on you."

The voice was soft but there was a note of command in it that he didn't dare disobey. So he tried to relax and half-closed his eyes and tried to pretend he was asleep. The hand rubbed the salve on in featherlight touches, and it was so soothing that he very nearly did fall asleep. He whimpered a bit when the hand rubbed the salve on the welts that covered his lower back, bottom, and thighs, but the voice hushed him and it really wasn't all that bad . . .it numbed the pain considerably, dulling the sting with its icy coolness so he could drift away into sweet slumber again.

Severus finished applying the salve in a few minutes and wiped his hands on a cloth and stood up, after replacing the boy's pajamas. He considered waking the boy up and giving him another pain relieving draft, then decided against it. Sleep was better than a potion right now, and he doubted if Poppy would skip a dose once Potter was fully conscious.

Besides, he needed to speak with Albus about his position as a spy. He headed up to the Headmaster's office.

* * * * * *

When Harry finally regained consciousness, he found himself gazing up at the familiar whitewashed walls of Hogwarts infirmary. He knew immediately where he was and he felt a sharp bolt of relief go through him. He was at Hogwarts, he was safe, no Death Eater could get him while he was at school, the wards prevented it. His mind shied away at recalling what had happened after the masked figures had taken him and he quickly focused on another subject, namely that his throat was dry as a desert. He coughed softly, and that brought Poppy rushing over.

"Oh, good, you're awake, Mr. Potter," she exclaimed, her eyes bright with satisfaction. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired. And thirsty," he answered.

"Understandable," she summoned a glass of water over with a straw. "Mind you drink it slowly, else it'll just come up again."

Harry nodded and obediently sipped the water. Its refreshing coolness soothed his raw throat better than anything.

While he sipped, Poppy ran another diagnostic charm over him, confirming that he was indeed mending from his ordeal. She ordered another Blood Replenisher though and made him drink it before she asked if he was hungry.

After feeding me that disgusting stuff, now you want me to eat? Harry thought grouchily, but all he said aloud was, "No, ma'am. I'm not really hungry right now."

"Hmm. Severus warned me that would be the case, but I think it'd be best if you tried to eat a little, Mr. Potter. How about some chicken broth and a piece of dry toast?"

Harry blinked, for he hardly expected Pomfrey to start quoting Snape, of all people. He considered, then nodded.

Poppy summoned Dobby and asked him to get a tray for Harry with the breakfast items and some chamomile tea as well, which would settle his stomach.

"Right away, Mistress. Dobby is always grateful to help Harry Potter." The little elf bowed to her and vanished with a sharp pop.

Harry looked up at the medi-witch and said, "Madam Pomfrey? Can I ask you something?"

"Yes, dear. What would you like to know?"

"Umm . . .how did I get here? I mean . . .I was with them . . .the Death Eaters . . .so how did I . . .escape?" It took all of his self-control not to start trembling when he mentioned the Death Eaters.

Poppy flashed him a sympathetic look and answered quietly, "You didn't escape, Harry. You were rescued, dear."

"By who?"

"Professor Snape."

Harry felt as if someone had just backhanded him across the face. Snape? His most hated potions professor had rescued him from the Death Eaters? "He-he did? But how?"

"By being in the right place at the right time, child," answered Poppy briskly. "And that's all I will tell you at this time. If you want the details, you'll have to ask Professor Snape himself, for they are not mine to tell."

Harry nodded, but knew he would never have the guts to ask the man. But he was curious as to how Snape had found out he was in trouble. The man had risked his life to free Harry from the grip of his tormentors, and the boy would be forever grateful to him, even if he did act like a snarky bastard most of the time. Perhaps there was more to the man than met the eye?

"I'll need to thank him," he found himself saying.

"Yes, that would be a good idea, Harry," agreed Poppy. Then she added, "I know that Professor Snape may come across as a bit hard and grumpy at times, but he truly does care for his students-all his students."

Harry looked skeptical at that statement, and Poppy caught it and added, "Yes, even Gryffindors, for all he pretends to despise them, Harry. After all, he saved your life not just by rescuing you, but assisting me healing you."

Harry felt his mind spin. Snape had helped heal him too? Maybe this was another dream and he just hadn't woken up yet. "I never knew Snape could heal."

"Professor Snape, Harry," Poppy corrected softly. "It's disrespectful for you to refer to him by his last name, especially since you owe him a great debt."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And yes, Severus certainly knows his Healing Charms. It's a requirement in his field. He was here just this morning, as a matter of fact, reapplying some healing salve to you, Mr. Potter."

Harry went red and longed to sink into the floor. Then it hadn't been a dream, the hand stroking his back and the voice soothing him. Snape . . . Snape had done that for him? Had the world ended? He recalled other memories, of the flight from the Death Eaters and the same silky voice urging him to drink a potion.

That had been Snape as well, although Harry could have sworn it had been his father. Yeah, right. Get a grip, Harry. You were out of your head with pain, otherwise you'd have never mistook Snape, the greasy git, for your dad. It was almost laughable, and Harry would never mention that fact to a soul. Snape would probably strangle him if he ever knew his most despised student, bloody Harry Potter, had mistook him for James in his delirium.

And yet, the voice he remembered from his childhood so very long ago and Snape's had sounded so alike.

He shook his head. He'd been delirious, it was easy to mix up people when you were trying not to scream from the pain and pass out. He'd wanted his father to come for him, and it was only natural that when his rescuer had arrived, he'd thought his wish had come true. He stifled a giggle, for Severus Snape surely would die if he knew anyone regarded him as a savior or a hero of any sort. Much less a father figure.

By then Dobby had returned with the tray and Harry began to eat slowly, sipping spoonfuls of broth and eating toast. To his relief, his stomach didn't reject the food and he managed to finish most of the food and the tea before Dumbledore came in to share some more startling and unwelcome news with him.

* * * * * *

"I-I have no magic anymore?" Harry repeated, feeling as if the bottom had suddenly dropped out of the earth. This had to be a dream, a nightmare, and soon he would wake up and everything would be back to normal.

But Dumbledore was eyeing him with those piercing blue eyes, eyes that were filled with compassion and sadness and a harsh bitter truth that Harry had to acknowledge. "My dear boy, your magic is, shall we say, temporarily out of commission."

Harry gulped sharply, feeling sick. Then all at once he was angry, bitterly angry. "Don't try and sugar coat the truth, sir!" he spat. "If my magic is . . .gone, does that mean I'm no longer a wizard?"

Dumbledore paled. "No, no of course not, Harry. You were born a wizard and you will remain one," he hastened to reassure the boy, who looked like death warmed over. Perhaps he should have waited to inform the boy about his loss of magic.

"Oh yeah?" the boy sneered, his mouth twisting in a grimace that rivaled his most feared Potions Master. "How can I be a wizard without magic?" He stared down at his hands, bitterness and anger and despair welling up inside of him. Magic was his gift, his birthright, the thing that made him Harry Potter. Without magic he was . . .nothing. Just a boy. Magic had been his salvation and his destruction, but without it he was . . . empty.

Magic is . . .was my life, he thought frantically, trying desperately to stem the tide of grief and despair rising within him. It was the only thing I could rely on and now . . .now it's gone and what am I? Nothing. Nothing at all. God, why couldn't I have died? Why?

"Damn you, Snape!" he cried suddenly, tears slipping down his face in spite of himself. No, no, no. I will not cry. I won't. But tears fell nevertheless. "You should have let them kill me, Goddamn you to hell!"

"Harry, child, no . . ." began Dumbledore, reaching out to touch the distraught boy on the shoulder.

But Harry drew away as if Dumbledore were poison, and shrieked. "Go away! Leave me ALONE! Just GET OUT!" He rolled away from the headmaster, burying his face in the pillow, his breath coming in panting sobs. One small fist struck the mattress weakly, in impotent fury. "Why didn't you let me die, Snape?" he raged, sobbing hoarsely. "Anything's better than this! What kind of a wizard am I now?"

Dumbledore stared down at the child and in his gaze was pity and sorrow, but he made no move to touch Harry again. Instead he rose to his feet and said quietly, "Don't despair, child. The darkest hour is just before dawn. Perhaps . . .one day, your magic will return to you."

"And perhaps pigs will fly," came the soft mocking voice. "Leave me alone, sir! Just leave me the bloody hell alone!"

Dumbledore left then and took Poppy with him, saying it was best if Harry was allowed to come to grips with this terrible knowledge in peace.

Harry cursed them all, loudly, for several minutes, but then the despair overwhelmed the anger and he buried his face in the pillow and sobbed hysterically. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, was a wizard no more.

He cried for hours, heartrending sobs that tore Poppy apart listening to them, until she finally couldn't stand it and called Severus to help her give the boy a Calming and Sleeping Draft. She had tried to give him the potions herself, but he had snarled at her like a possessed thing and thrown the potions across the room before turning away and crying into the pillow again, which was a sodden lump of wet cloth and feathers.

Severus came immediately at Poppy's frantic call, stepping from the fireplace into the infirmary with silent grace. Harry's crying had diminished somewhat, but it was still audible.

"Albus told him, I assume?" Poppy nodded. "How long has he been like this?"

"Hours, I think. Ever since he learned . . .Severus, I fear he may do himself harm unless we sedate him."

"Has he tried anything?"

"No, all he's done is cry and throw potions at me," the medi-witch admitted. "But he can't go on like this, Sev, he's too weak to sustain this level of emotional histrionics."

"Hmm. Yes, you're right." Severus sighed. "Come, let me see what I can do."

He walked silent-footed as a cat over to the bed where Harry was curled up, weeping, and said very calmly and softly, "Mr. Potter, stop blubbering and look at me. You're going to make yourself sick, now stop this."

"Go away," came the defiant whisper. "Go the hell away and let me Goddamn die, the way you should've in the first place."

"And how will that help?" Severus asked, still in that calm even tone. "Dying won't bring back your magic, only living will do that. Of course, you could always give up, Potter, surrender like the coward you are."

That made the boy sit up and spin around, as Severus had intended.

"I'm not a coward, you bloody greasy bastard!" he glared at Severus from green eyes rimmed with red, blazing with a terrible anger and even greater despair. "What the hell do you care, anyway, Snape?"

"I care, Harry, because I don't want to see you waste your life, the life your mother died to protect," Severus said bluntly. He hated the way he was speaking to the child, but he knew that gentleness would not serve yet. No, not yet. "She died so you could live, will you make that sacrifice be in vain, boy? Yes? Selfish spoiled brat."

"Severus!" Poppy cried, aghast.

Snape ignored her, though he knew he'd pay for those words later.

"SHUT UP!" Harry shouted.

"No," Severus hissed, leaning close to the child, glaring at him fiercely. "Your mother did not give her life, nor did I risk my own, so you could turn around and die like a dog in the gutter, boy! Yes, your magic is gone, but that is no reason to wish yourself dead, child! While you live there remains a chance, dead you have nothing, Potter. To die means you are a coward, but to live takes courage. Where is that famous Gryffindor bravery now, Potter? Show me it, or did the Death Eaters beat it out of you?"

"No!" the boy cried, and suddenly he sprang at Snape, or tried to, his arms swinging wildly.

Severus caught him easily, lifting the child up and holding him against his chest, ignoring Harry's flailing fists, pounding weakly against him. "Good. Be angry, Potter, hate me even, but don't give up. Otherwise they'll win and you don't want that, do you, child?"

"Let go of me, damn you!" Harry gasped, struggling with what little strength he possessed against the arms that held him tight.

But Severus was immovable, he might as well have been a set of manacles. He held Harry firmly, not allowing him leverage, and the boy was too exhausted from crying and his previous ordeal to fight him for long. Eventually he sagged in a boneless heap against the Potion Master's black robes, gasping and crying.

Then and only then did Severus's hold gentle, and he cradled the child against his shoulder and rubbed his back. The soft touch caused Harry to cry even harder.

Severus allowed the child to cry for a few minutes, releasing most of the tension he'd built up, then he sat the child up on his knee and said quietly, "All right, now that's enough, Potter. Drink." He held the vial of Calming and Sleeping Draft to the boy's lips.

Harry tried to turn away, but Severus took his chin in one hand and said firmly. "Drink it, or else I'll hold your nose and pour it down your throat."

Harry obeyed, for he had no doubt that the stern wizard would do just what he said. Snape always kept his word. He gulped the potion down, sniffling sharply. Almost immediately he felt it take effect and he slumped in his professor's arms, his eyes closing in spite of himself.

Severus held him close and Harry snuggled deeper into the velvet fabric of Snape's robes uncaring that he was falling asleep in the lap of a man who hated him. At least he thought Snape hated him. But then why had he helped him? Why? It made no sense. But then nothing had, not since he'd been captured and hurt, not since Dumbledore had told him he was nothing more than a Muggle now.

"Yes, sleep, child," murmured the Potions Master, and his hand came up in an automatic gesture and he ran his fingers through the youngster's messy black hair.

Harry surrendered to the potion and the sleep it brought, and once more he was a little boy and he heard his father telling him to just close his eyes and go to sleep. "That's my good boy, Harry. Just go to bed, little one."

"Kay, Daddy," he mumbled and obeyed.

Severus Snape stared down at the sleeping child in his arms. Had he imagined it, or had Potter just called him daddy? He shook his head. He must have heard wrong, he'd been under a lot of stress lately.

He waited a few minutes to make sure the potion had taken effect, then he transferred the boy back to the bed. He was sleeping deeply, the pain on his face smoothed over. Severus waved his wand over the comatose Harry, noting that he had weakened himself considerably with his little temper tantrum.

Severus summoned a Strengthening Potion and spelled it directly into the boy's stomach, then cast another charm to relieve the boy of an uncomfortably full bladder, so he would not have an accident.

Afterwards he pulled the covers over the child and allowed him to sleep, for sleep was the physician of pain. When he stepped back from Harry's bedside, he discovered Poppy at his elbow.

"You got him to take the potion then?"

He nodded. "Yes. If he wakes and shows signs of having another fit like the last one, call me. You know it's not good for him to get so worked up in his condition."

The medi-witch sniffed. "Of course I do, Sev. Though for a moment there, I wasn't sure if you did, the way you were snapping at him."

He arched an eyebrow. "I was provoking him deliberately, Poppy, to focus his anger on something tangible rather than allowing it to fester. Even I'm not that much of a bastard, you know," he added softly.

Poppy blushed. "I know, and I'm sorry, Sev. I of all people should trust my instincts. You'd never harm a student, especially not one who has already been hurt the way Harry has." She cast a glance back at the bed. "Poor thing, I really think Albus could have told him some other time, when he was stronger, instead of blurting it out in the middle of breakfast like that. He's lucky the child didn't vomit all over him, after hearing that."

"Hmm, yes." Severus frowned. Given the fact that it was Harry, he too wondered at the old wizard's insensitivity. Normally the old man coddled the boy, allowing him free reign to break rules and not suffer the consequences, just as he'd done his golden father, James. "Perhaps he felt that the sooner he told him, the sooner Potter could adjust to the situation. Still, even I would have waited a day or so, rather than risk him suffering a relapse. Well, what's done is done. I'll be in my lab, brewing some antidote, Poppy. If you need me, you know where to find me." He turned to go.

"Indeed. And thank you, Severus," she said quietly. "From both me and Mr. Potter. If he hadn't been so upset, I think he would have thanked you for rescuing him."

Severus shrugged. "Like I need the brat's gratitude," he snorted, though a part of him was pleased that at least Potter had the manners to acknowledge he owed the greasy bat of the dungeons his life, and for once a Gryffindor was in the debt of a Slytherin. Then he strode over to the fireplace and Flooed back to his lab, his black robe billowing majestically.

Over the next two days, Harry remained in the Hospital Wing, recovering from his ordeal at the Death Eaters' hands and coming to terms with the loss of his magic. After his initial outburst, Poppy watched him like a hawk, but Harry controlled himself and didn't have any more embarrassing episodes. His face burned when he recalled how he had screamed and attacked Snape and then ended up crying all over the man. He prayed he wouldn't have to see the man anytime soon, for after yesterday, when they had gone on that unexpected outing to McDonalds in London, he knew the man would be waiting for his chance to question Harry about the Dursleys, and that was one subject Harry did not want to discuss at all, with Snape or anyone else.

Dumbledore didn't return to visit him either, for which Harry was also grateful. He knew his behavior towards the old wizard had been abysmal at best and he would rather not face the other right then, his emotions were still too raw. One day though, he would have to apologize to Dumbledore, and perhaps Snape as well, for flipping out and acting like . . .well a hormonal teenager.

Poppy treated him the same as always, making him eat and drink and take her disgusting potions on a schedule. She did not insist he remain confined to his bed, so he was allowed to get up and walk about for short periods of time, though she did insist he rest every hour. Harry obeyed her instructions, because the plain truth was he still felt awful and in his depressed state sleeping was preferable to being awake.

The loss of his magic was like an invisible wound upon his soul, bleeding silently, but causing him agony nevertheless.

He cursed the damn Death Eaters from the depths of his soul. Their unreasoning hatred had cost him everything that mattered. Without magic, would he even be allowed to attend Hogwarts in the upcoming year? And if not, then where would he go? He refused to return to the Dursleys, he knew his aunt and uncle would never forgive him for hexing Aunt Marge, no matter that she'd called his mother a whore right to his face.

If he shut his eyes, he could just hear the woman's sneering shrill voice, saying, "If there's something wrong with the bitch, there's something wrong with the pup, and God knows your sister was no better than she ought to be, running around with another man while being married. Of course, her husband wasn't any prize either, low class trash, wasn't he, Petunia? Still, a wife ought to remain true to her vows and not go round with another man, no matter how handsome and rich he was. Then she had the nerve to divorce him and get remarried to that arrogant Potter. Such a scandal!"

Harry had remained dumbstruck for a moment before crying, "What are you talking about? My mum never cheated on my dad! That's a lie!"

"Quiet, boy! You know nothing about what went on, you weren't even born yet," snapped Marge. "Your mother thought she was brilliant, but she made awful choices, in men and in her life. She got what she deserved, the tart."

Then he had lost it and hexed the dreadful woman, for daring to speak of his mother that way. Lies, it was all lies. Lily had never been divorced and remarried, he had the proof in the photo album Hagrid had given him in his first year. His parents had been happily married, had him, and then been killed by Voldemort when he was a mere fifteen months old. There had been no scandal attached to his mother's name. That was something his miserable Muggle relatives had made up, like they made up the lie that Harry was a delinquent and went to St. Brutus's School for the Criminally Inclined.

He wished that he'd hexed Marge's tongue off instead of blowing her up like a balloon. It'd be no more than she deserved, the wicked old gossip. He sighed, leaning back on his pillows and wishing he had a book or something to read. Merlin, he'd even welcome one of Snape's God-awful potion essays, anything to relieve the tedium of staring at the walls of the Hospital Wing and remembering how he'd come to be there.

He didn't even know how he was going to tell Ron and Hermione the awful news. It was hard enough for him to even think about it, much less write his two best friends and tell them he was magicless. He wished the dark wizards had killed him instead of forcing him to endure this awful torment. Bitterly, he thought the only ones who would be pleased at the way things had turned out were the Dursleys, who need never worry about their freaky nephew using magic again. Them and maybe Snape, who was probably having a party at not having to teach Harry next term.

Although he had to admit the Potions Master hadn't seemed at all pleased over his loss of magic when Harry had last seen him, he hadn't made any sarcastic snarky comments or yelled at Harry for being an overdramatic teenager like his father the way he normally did. In fact, in his own sharp way, he'd comforted his student, much as Harry hated to admit it, Snape had been almost . . .compassionate. Harry remembered the way Snape had held him gently and had run his fingers through Harry's hair and hadn't sneered at him for bawling like a two-year-old on his professor's shoulder.

Maybe Snape did have a heart after all.

Or maybe he'd imbibed a Personality Altering Draft, Harry thought wryly. Yes, that'd make more sense than Snape suddenly developing a conscience or compassion, right?

Before he could ponder the strange behavior of his least favorite teacher, Hedwig flew into the Hospital Wing holding a rather large package wrapped in fading brown paper. She flew down and dropped it in Harry's lap.

"Huh? What's this? I got a package?" Harry stared at it, wondering who on earth could have sent him something. He'd not written to Ron or Hermione to tell them where he was and no one else knew either.

He reached over to scratch the snowy owl between the ears, then picked up the package, which was the size and shape of a large book, and peered at the address on the outside.

My dearest son, Harry Potter

From your loving mother Lily

Harry gaped at the address. A package from his mother, and he was only getting it now? How and why? "When did you get this, Hedwig?" he asked the owl, who merely hooted softly and nibbled his hair.

"Well, if it's from my mum, it can't be bad, right?" he reasoned, then carefully unwrapped it.

Inside the paper was a glossy photo album in green leather with the inscription Our Family in gold letters on the outside.

"More pictures. Maybe Hagrid remembered there was another album," Harry told the owl excitedly, and opened it.

Taped to the back of the front cover was an envelope with his name and the directions, Open Me First, on it in his mother's handwriting.

Trembling, Harry carefully removed the envelope and read the following letter.

To my beloved Harry,

If you're reading this, my sweet son, something has happened to me and I can no longer be with you and there is no need for you to maintain the fiction that you are James's son anymore. Not that he wasn't a wonderful and loving stepdad to you, but the fact remains that he was not your real father and you do not need to keep up the masquerade and fear to acknowledge your true father, who is my beloved and dear best friend, lover, and soulmate.

Were it not for the danger posed by Voldemort-may he rot forever in hell!-and the nature of your father's work as a spy for the Order of the Phoenix, this deception would never have been necessary and you would not ever have to pretend to be someone you're not. But we decided, your father and I, soon after you were born, Harry, that we would do all in our power to keep you safe, even if it meant playing the whole world for fools and hiding you in plain sight.

We cast glamour spells on you to make you appear like James, though your father has probably removed them by now. He hated doing that to you, he was so proud that you resembled him, except you inherited my nose and eyes!

I trust your father has explained everything to you by now and I wish that I could be there with you, my sweet baby boy. Never doubt that I love you, Harry, and I will watch over you and love you forever, even from heaven.

Mum

PS These pictures were taken by Remus Lupin, or Uncle Moony as you call him, they are the original pictures of our wedding and your baby pictures, which we had to hide when we created the fiction that you were James' son. This is the true album and the pictures here have not been altered in any way like the other fake album was. Enjoy them, love.

Harry stared at the letter and felt the bottom drop out of the world for the third time in over a week. What the hell was happening? Had his life suddenly become a sandcastle? As if it weren't bad enough having Death Eaters capture him and losing his magic, now he had to learn that he wasn't even the son of James Potter, the way he'd thought for thirteen years.

He recalled Marge's voice, saying all those dreadful things about his mother and thinking they were lies. Apparently they hadn't all been, if what was written here was true. Lily had referred to James as his stepdad, not his father, which meant that some of what Marge had said was true-Lily had been married twice, and the man who'd been her first husband was Harry's real father.

Lily had said it had been a necessary deception, to protect him. And his appearance wasn't his real one either. Who the hell did he look like then? Shivering, Harry's fingers touched the thick page of the album, brushing against it lightly. Did he dare turn the page and discover the secret he'd never known, the father he'd never met, who had probably been killed the way James and Lily had? Otherwise he'd have been sent to live with him and not the Dursleys.

Taking a deep breath, Harry turned the page.

And saw the first picture was of his mother, looking radiant in a dress of dazzling white and gold, her hair shimmering brightly in the noonday sun. Underneath the picture was the caption Lily Ann Evans, her wedding day, 1979, Yorkshire, England.

Harry felt tears come to his eyes as the picture moved and he saw his mother laughing in joy. You made a beautiful bride, Mum. Absolutely stunning. But who were you married to?

He turned the page once again.

This picture was of both his parents, Lily and a tall dark haired man dressed in a smashing black and white tuxedo with fancy green dress robes. The man had short silky black hair and was smiling down at his bride as if she were the most precious thing in the world. And she in turn was gazing at him as if he were the most gorgeous man on earth. Truth be told, the man-his father-was quite handsome.

Underneath the photo was written in Lily's flowing script Me and Sev on our wedding day, just after the ceremony.

Sev? That was my dad's name? But who is he? I don't recognize him.

Harry removed his glasses, rubbed them on his shirt tail and peered again at the picture. Something about the man's face seemed familiar, but no, it couldn't be . . .

He looked at the next picture, this one showed his mother and Sev dancing, looking deliriously happy, like all newly wedded couples. Lily had written Sev and I dancing the mambo, oh it was fun! And James didn't think he could dance-ha!

The next few pictures were all of Lily and his father and in the background were other people, including James and someone called Sirius, and one shot of a rather serious looking young man with blond hair and dark eyes that Lily said was our best friend Remus "Moony" Lupin.

Then there came a flyleaf with the words Our Son and Harry flipped it over to see a baby picture of himself, probably taken right after he'd been born, as he looked a bit red and scrunched, with a tuft of very black hair and dark blue eyes. The caption here read Harrison Remus Snape, born July 31st, 1980 7 lbs, 20 inches.

Harry gasped. He must have read that wrong. He reread the caption, rubbing his eyes hard.

The words remained the same.

Harrison Remus Snape.

Oh dear God, it couldn't be, his mind shrieked.

Because if it were true that made his father . . .Severus Snape.

He quickly looked at the rest of the pictures, only now recognizing the smiling young man leaning over Lily in the hospital bed looking at baby Harry as his potions professor. Snape had cut his hair in the pictures and his nose wasn't crooked then and the sneer was gone from his face. He looked like a totally different person.

There were many other pictures of himself, Lily, and Snape, or "Sev" as his mother had called him. Pictures of Harry with food all over his face, laughing up at his mother, another of him crawling to Snape, who was lying on the carpet, holding out his arms. Harry's first step, taken while holding onto Snape's hands, according to the caption. Another showed him nestled on Snape's shoulder while the man was seated in a rocking chair, patting Harry's back while Lily looked on, smiling.

"Go to sleep, son." murmured the soft silky voice, and Harry closed his eyes, snuggling against the comfortable shoulder.

Harry blinked, coming out of the memory with a gasp. It had been real, not a hallucination brought on by pain or fever. It had really happened, it was true.

He scanned the rest of the pictures, of the family at the seashore in Devon, in the park, where Severus pushed Lily and baby Harry on the swings. Harry sharing an ice cream cone with his daddy and making them both get covered in sticky chocolate, another of a scowling infant Harry, and beneath that one Lily had written I know where he gets that temper from, Sev! Following that one was a photo of Harry at seventeen months wearing a tiny pair of glasses and Lily had commented But he gets his poor eyesight from my side of the family, he needs glasses just like Grandpa Evans.

But far and away the most embarrassing picture of the whole lot was the one of Harry naked in his bathtub, blowing bubbles at Lily and splashing his dad with one little hand as the two attempted to wash him. Merlin, Mum, what were you thinking, putting that in here? D'you want me to die of embarrassment before I'm twenty? I'm taking this one out of here. If Ron or Malfoy ever saw it . . .Only to discover to his utter horror that the pictures were charmed fast to the page and he could not remove them without ruining the whole album.

Groaning, he left the picture alone and examined the rest, which were mostly candid shots of him playing with toys, he'd seemed to like a stuffed gray wolf best, beating a wooden spoon on a little cauldron-Future Potions Master, huh?-smiling at Remus Lupin, riding a broom with James, yes it was James, and the last photo showed a close up of Harry, Lily, and Severus, with Severus's arms wrapped about both his wife and son, looking down on them with love written all over his face. Beneath that one Lily had written, The Snape family, 1982, perfect together.

1982? But that would mean I was two when my parents-I mean Mum died, not fifteen months like I always thought. Guess that was another damn lie, like everything else I ever thought.

He gently shut the album and buried his face in his hands.

He could not comprehend how the sweet loving father in those photos which Lily had written about with such devotion had become the cold hard man he knew. And if Snape was really Harry's father, then why had he allowed the Dursleys to raise his son? Why had he given Harry away and why did he despise his own son?

Because he's a greasy bastard, hissed the cynical part of his mind.

No, there had to be another reason. The Snape in the pictures clearly loved his baby, it was there on his face plain as day in dozens of pictures.

What had happened between then and now to make Severus change?

Obviously one answer was Lily's death. But what about James and the deception they'd worked on Harry?

Questions swirled in his head and he could feel the beginnings of a migraine beating in his temples.

He knew of only one man who might know the answers to all those questions and it wasn't Snape.

Harry rose to his feet and quickly pulled on his clothes. Then he tucked the album with its startling secrets under his arm and slipped out of the infirmary, praying he could make his way to Dumbledore's office undiscovered by Madam Pomfrey.

Luckily, Madam Pomfrey was not in the vicinity when her latest patient made good his escape from the Hospital Wing and ran as quickly as he could to the Headmaster's office. "Sherbet Lemon!" Harry whispered to the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the Headmaster's office, praying that Dumbledore had not changed the password.

To his utter relief, the gargoyle swung open and Harry stepped on the revolving stairs and was taken directly to the door of Dumbedore's inner sanctum.

But just as Harry laid a hand on the doorknob, he caught the sound of voices within. Apparently he wasn't the only one who had decided to have a talk with the Headmaster this morning and from the sound of things, the discussion was quickly turning into a very loud argument.

Harry froze, for the person shouting was Snape.

"How long have you known about this, Albus? Years, right? Eleven years, to be exact."

"Yes. I take it you've received the Pensieve Lily left for you and the letter as well, Severus?"

"You know I have," Severus spat. "And I want an answer to my question. Why did you wait so long to tell me, Albus? Lily wrote that I was supposed to get my memories back if anything unforeseen should happen, so that I could regain custody of my son. She died eleven years ago, on Halloween, her and James bloody Potter both," Snape hissed, his tone as furious as Harry had ever heard it. "And you hid the truth from me-from us both still! Why? Damn you, old man, what possible reason could you have for doing that? Tell me!"

"I thought it best, Severus. It was still too dangerous, the Ministry was up in arms after the Potters deaths-" Dumbledore began.

Snape cut him off. "Don't call her that! She was never a Potter, the marriage was a sham, a marriage in name only. Lily was my wife, not James Potter's!"

"Very well, after James and Lily's deaths," Albus amended quietly. "You were still doing your undercover work for the Order, I couldn't compromise your position. You were our best agent, Severus, surely you can understand that?"

"Really?" the sneer could have cut glass. "Why should I when your meddling cost me my son, Albus? Lily was dead, and the only thing I had left of her was our child, whom I didn't even remember! I had already agreed to place most of my memories in the Pensieve, so why in hell did you Obliviate all knowledge of my son from my mind, Albus?" Severus cried, and in his voice was bitter anguish and hurt. "It was you, wasn't it? Lily would've never done something like that to me."

"No, she wouldn't." Dumbledore said softly. "My boy, please understand, I had no choice, the Minister would have never released Harry to you then, you were under suspicion . . ."

"Bullshit, Albus!" Snape exploded, and Harry winced at the sheer volume of the man's voice. He'd never heard Snape scream that way. "I was a bloody spy, not a Death Eater! You could have vouched for me, Remus could have, you both were members of the Order, you knew the truth."

"Remus is a werewolf, have you forgotten?" Albus reminded gently. "His testimony would have been dismissed."

"And yours, Albus Dumbledore?" Snape said dangerously. "The Minister, stupid though he may be, would have never dismissed the testimony of Albus Brian Wulfric Percival Dumbledore, Order of Merlin First Class and hero of the bloody century! Would he?"

Before Dumbledore could reply, Snape answered his own question. "Of course he wouldn't, he wouldn't have the spine to defy the great and powerful Dumbeldore, slayer of Grindelwald. But no, you didn't tell him that Severus Snape was a spy, not a Death Eater, despite coming from Slytherin House and being a schoolmate of Lucius Malfoy. Why not, Albus? Was it because you didn't approve of me marrying Lily, one of your golden Gryffindors? Perhaps you thought, like Black did, that she was better off with James, one of her own, instead of the scummy half-blood from Spinner's End? Was that it?"

"Severus, I never believed you weren't worthy of Lily."

"Didn't you? Then why did you tell her she should think carefully before she married me?" Severus snarled. "Oh yes, she told me of your little talk just before she graduated, how you cautioned her to look before she leaped. I wouldn't call that congratulations!"

"You misunderstand, I merely wished to caution her about what she was getting into. Being the wife of a spy is very stressful, and I wished her to consider carefully if she was cut out for it."

"And if she decided it wasn't for her, you had James bloody Potter waiting in the wings to sweep her off her feet, right? Pureblood rich Potter, everybody's favorite, a match made in heaven!" Severus yelled. "Well, you were wrong, damn you! She couldn't stand him, it was always me she wanted, not your Golden Boy. Me, Slytherin prefect Severus Snape, the damn outcast! The half-blood with barely a Knut to his name. She chose me, not Potter, and do you know why? Because she loved me and I loved her. We were happy, Albus, happy the way I never dreamed I could be. We were a family, damn you, old man! And you stole that from me . .and gave my son to Potter."

"You agreed to it, Severus. You know you did, it was your idea to hide the boy away."

"Yes, but not forever! Not for bloody eleven years! Lily died and Harry was supposed to come home to me and instead you let me live a lie and sent my son to live with his Muggle relatives who hated him. Petunia Dursley always hated us, I knew her when Lily and I were kids, she was always a sour pinched-faced bitch, jealous of us because we had magic. And Dursley was just as bad, the great oaf. Yet you kept the Pensieve and my memories from me and put my child with those-those devil spawn! What reason can you give me now, old man?"

"It was safer there Severus, no one would ever suspect us hiding Harry with Muggles. You weren't fit to care for a child then, Severus, you were almost destroyed by Lily's death."

"I got over it,' Severus said softly. "And the fact remains that you lied, Albus Dumbledore, when the Wizengamot asked you if there were any other relatives Harry Potter had. You lied about it all, even the child's real name. He was a Snape, Harrison Remus Snape! The only thing he had of Potter's was a bloody glamour spell and a fake birth certificate. But I guess it doesn't sound half so glamorous, Harry Remus Snape, the Boy-Who-Lived, does it? Whose father was a mere Potions Master and spy, sorted into Slytherin, known for its dark side? Oh no, we can't have the golden image tarnished by the truth, that his father was not the perfect hero, the pureblood who was everyone's friend, can we now? What would the Minister say?"

"Severus, my boy, you're a good man, I know that, but even you have to admit that you don't seem like the ideal person to mentor a child."

There was dead silence in the room and Harry pressed his ear to the door, waiting to hear Snape's reply.

"I don't?" came the swift silky response. "And whose bloody fault is that? You were the one who made me into the spy, Albus Dumbledore. It was on your orders that I became the unseen shadow, forced to dwell in darkness. I agreed because you asked it of me, and God help me I thought you knew best, like always. But I never dreamed it would cost me my son. Don't think for a moment that if I had known, I would have agreed. Because you know full well, I wouldn't have! Harry and Lily were my life, Albus. They were my only family and I would have never given them up forever. Never!"

Harry felt a sudden thrill run through him. His father had wanted him after all. He could hear the utter sincerity in Severus's tone. He pushed open the door a crack.

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, Severus. Perhaps I misjudged you, all those years ago."

Severus laughed bitterly. "Is that all you have to say? Sorry Sev, that I cost you your child and let us forget this ever happened? Not good enough, old man! You could have given me back my memories any time before Harry attended Hogwarts, or even last year, but you didn't. You kept the Pensieve hidden and let me think the boy was really James's son-the man I hated for taking away my wife-you kept Harry wearing the glamours so I'd think he looked like that damn arrogant ass, and let me think the worst, humiliate him for nothing."

"I told you, Severus, that he was more than what he seemed."

"More than what he seemed-oh you're a master of understatement, aren't you?" Severus snickered. Then he slammed his hand down on the desk so hard Harry jumped. He leaned over the desk, glaring at the Headmaster with one of his finely honed glowers that could make a dragon race for cover. "You knew he was my son and you didn't tell me. No, don't bother inventing any more pitiful excuses, Headmaster, I'm done with them and you."

Dumbledore paled. "Why, Severus, whatever do you mean?"

"Just what I said," the other wizard said evenly, his eyes blazing. "I am done with it, all of it. For the past eleven years I've lived a lie and I've had enough. I'm resigning as your bloody teacher and your spy, find another poor fool to do your dirty work from now on." He pointed his wand and a sheaf of papers popped up on the other wizard's desk. "Effective immediately-I quit!"

Dumbledore remained speechless.

"What, nothing to say?" sneered the former professor. "It's a bloody miracle. I'm through with your meddling, old man. I'm taking my son and leaving. Don't expect a forwarding address."

"Severus, don't be hasty," Dumbledore began, a note of desperation in his voice. He reached out to touch the other wizard on the arm, but Snape shot him such a look of disgust that he withdrew his hand swiftly. "You have every right to be angry with me, but think of Harry, this is the only place he can be safe."

"Why? Because you're there to make sure of it? Don't make me laugh. I was nearly killed in this school by Black, Potter, and Pettigrew, or have you forgotten their little prank during fifth year? A prank that nearly led my best friend into killing me or making me into a werewolf! And what punishment did you give them for nearly killing me, hmm? Were they expelled? Forced to apologize to me? No, you did nothing except slap them on the wrist and scold them for being such naughty boys. And then you told me to shut up about it! Is that how you think to keep a child safe? Pardon me if I don't agree, but Harry is safest away from here, and you, before you use him the way you did me, and ruin the rest of his life."

"Harry has no magic, Severus, he's vulnerable to the followers of Voldemort," Dumbledore pointed out.

"So what? I can protect him as well as you, I spent over thirteen years learning their weaknesses, rest assured I learned my lessons well. No one knows them better than I do, and I can kill them without remorse if I have to. And I will, for nobody harms my son. Nobody," his eyes narrowed in warning. "That includes you."

"I'm not your enemy, my boy," said the Headmaster sadly. "All I did was for the greater good."

"Are you not?" lashed Severus bitterly. "For I will tell you now, that no enemy save perhaps Voldemort has ever hurt me the way you have. But no more. I am done with your crusade, done with being your shadow, and Harry is as well. He can't be your bloody savior and fulfill your damn prophecy without magic, now can he? No, for once he can be ordinary, the way his mother and I intended."

Snape spun about, his black cloak swirling about his tall frame and stalked towards the office door.

"Severus, what will you tell Harry? He doesn't even know you're his father," called Dumbledore.

Severus paused then said icily, "I'll tell him what you never did-the truth. And let him make up his own mind."

Then he yanked open the office door and ran straight into Harry.

For one moment the two remained staring at each other, then Severus said, "How much did you overhear?"

"Everything," Harry answered, clutching the photo album tighter.

Severus seemed to relax slightly. "Good, then you can think about it on the way to my quarters." He glanced at the book in his son's hand. "What's that?"

"A photo album. Mum gave it to me and she wrote a letter to me too. Hedwig brought it just this morning, sir."

"Ah. The same time I received my Pensieve, no doubt." Severus sighed. "Well, don't just stand there dawdling, Harry, come along. Unless you wish to tell the meddling old wizard in the office something?"

"No sir. I know all I need to." He gazed uncertainly at his father. "Did you mean what you said to him in there? That I could live with you, even if I don't have magic any more? Because I won't go back to the Dursleys."

Severus placed a hand lightly on his son's shoulder. "Harry Remus Snape, you're my son. And you belong with me, magic or no magic. You'll return to the Dursleys over my dead body. Now, come, we can discuss things more in my quarters, I don't want the whole school to know my private business."

Harry managed a small smile at those words and quickly followed his father down the stairs and into the dungeons.

Severus asked to see the photo album once they had arrived at his quarters and Harry handed it to him, watching quietly as the taller man sat down on the couch in his living area and began to flip through it. After the conversation he'd heard between the two older wizards, Harry no longer thought Snape hated him. He'd made it quite obvious that he cared for Harry, and the boy was content with that for now. His feelings towards Severus were still muddled, but he was too tired to sort them out and so he sat down on the couch next to his father and drifted into a half doze.

Poppy's head appeared in the fireplace a moment later, waking Harry from a very pleasant dream of his mother. "Severus! Please tell me you know where Harry is! He's left the infirmary."

Severus lowered the album and answered calmly, "No need to go insane, Poppy, I have him here in my quarters. I thought it best to have sessions here, he's fine, don't fret."

Poppy heaved a sigh of immense relief. Then she flashed the former professor a scowl that nearly rivaled his own. "Thank Merlin! Severus Snape, next time leave a note before you remove a patient from my care, is that clear?"

"Yes, Poppy," said Snape contritely. Harry gaped. "I apologize for frightening you. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a discussion to continue."

"Very well, but I want to see him back here when it's done, he's not fully healed yet." Poppy said, then disappeared.

Severus cast Harry a look of amusement. "She tends to forget sometimes I'm not her student any longer. Are you feeling all right? You look a bit pale?"

"I'm fine."

Snape raised an eyebrow, then reached out and laid a hand on the boy's forehead. "You've a bit of a fever still. Take this," he ordered, summoning a familiar blue potion.

Harry made a face but swallowed it at Snape's warning look.

When he handed the vial back to the older wizard, Snape set it on a table then said softly, "I want you to know that while I don't approve of eavesdropping, what you heard in the office was nothing but the truth. Up until this morning I had no memory that you were my son, not until I had placed the memories back in my head from the Pensieve Lily left for me."

"Uh, what's a Pensieve, sir?" Harry asked. He had no idea what to call the other man, Dad seemed too new just yet, so he settled with sir, since Snape couldn't object to that form of address.

"Here. I'll show you," Severus rose and went to fetch a large silvery bowl filled with what looked like silver water. "This is what we call a Pensieve. It hold memories inside it, thoughts we wish to preserve and examine more thoroughly. Inside this one were all my memories of you and I together. This was the one thing I agreed to when Lily and I made the decision to disguise you. It was a safeguard to prevent me from revealing anything about you to the Dark Lord, better known as Voldemort. He was . . . very skilled at penetrating his followers minds, and though I am a strong Occlumens, even I could not be sure he would not discover my true secret, that I had a family I loved and was not the solitary man I appeared. So I agreed to put all my memories of my married life and you in here, and so ensure he would never discover you to use against me. It was meant to be a temporary thing, and once he was defeated I would have been given the Pensieve back by Lily. Only she was killed and for some reason the Old Meddler found it and hid it away, and never gave it back until now."

"Why did he wait?"

"Who knows?" Severus shook his head. "His reasons are as twisted as a skein of yarn and just as comprehensible. He probably figured that now you were without magic and vulnerable, you needed more protection than those relatives of yours could provide with the blood wards."

"Huh? I don't understand. What the heck are blood wards? And what's an-an Occlumens?"

"Pay attention, please. An Occlumens is a wizard skilled in the magical discipline of Occlumency, which is the art of sealing one's mind against unwanted intrusions by another wizard. I am an expert Occlumens, it is one of my talents, one reason why Dumbledore made me his chief spy for over thirteen years. Not even Voldemort could penetrate my shields, and I could lie to him with impunity."

"Oh. And the blood wards?"

"Magical protections that can only exist when a wizard is tied to a family by blood, in this case through your mother's sister, Petunia. Dumbledore activated them when he brought you there as a baby, after Lily and James were killed. They made you safe from any evil intent or person, protecting you. But they were nowhere near as strong as the ones I would have been able to cast as your . . .father," Snape admitted quietly. "I was not lying when I said I would be able to protect you better than anyone else, Harry. I swear it upon your mother's grave."

Harry squirmed uneasily at the mention of Voldemort's followers. "D'you think they're still looking for me then?"

"That's hard to say, but let us assume so. One thing is certain, they will be waiting for their next chance to capture you and . . .finish what they started," Severus informed him calmly. "I don't say this to frighten you, but to make you aware of what you're up against. They will never get that chance. Not while there is breath in my body."

Harry believed him. He radiated such an air of confidence and deadly power that it made him shiver and thank Merlin that he was not on the wrong side of Snape's wand. The Potions Master would make a terrible enemy.

"I know you must feel . . .confused, to say the least," Snape began awkwardly. "Much as I myself felt after I had absorbed the memories in the Pensieve. But one thing you must decide, Harry, and the sooner you make up your mind, the better. What do you wish to do, remain here at Hogwarts or go with me when I leave here? For you heard I have resigned, for I cannot stomach working under that-" here Severus used a word that made Harry's eyebrows go up, he wasn't aware the other man even knew terms like that. "-anymore, not after what he's done. However, I don't want to force you into anything, too many people have been doing just that ever since you came here. So, the choice is yours, stay or go, but know that if you stay I cannot help you as much as I would like, though you may call me if you ever need anything."

"Do I have to give you an answer now?"

"No. Think about it. Why don't you take a short nap? I will be here, looking at the album your mother left. Sometimes if you sleep on a problem it helps."

"Okay," Harry agreed, and removed his glasses and curled up on the couch. For one instant he considered laying his head on the other's shoulder, the way he'd done so long ago, but then thought it was too much too soon and so he leaned back on the cushions instead.

Soon he was fast asleep, the day's revelations wearing him out.

Severus eyed the boy resignedly, then muttered something about the kid getting a crick in his neck from sleeping in that position, and drew the boy's head down until he was lying with his head in Severus's lap.

Only then did the wizard resume turning the pages of the album, one hand resting lightly on his newfound son's head.

Old memories warred with newer ones, and Severus felt no small amount of guilt over the way he'd treated the child over the past two years. Hopefully Harry would eventually forgive him for being such a snarky bastard, though Snape knew it would take longer for him to forgive himself. One thing he did know, was that if Harry chose to go with him, he would do his best to give the boy what he should have had before, a consistent caring father, one who loved his son and showed it.

He had vowed long before that he would never be the kind of father he had grown up with. A drunken bully who delighted in tormenting and slapping his son around, hating him for having magic, and for being smarter than he would ever be.

No, Severus would never be like Tobias was. This would be his second chance to have a family, and this time no one would get in his way, no matter if it was for the greater good or not. Lily, I'm so sorry. I never meant for this to happen, neither of us did. But now I have a chance to make things right, love. And I will, if our child here allows it.

He smiled down at the boy sleeping peacefully in his lap and one hand lifted to brush his fingers through Harry's hair, the way he'd done long ago, when two-year-old Harry used to fight taking a nap, refusing to close his eyes until Severus had cuddled him and rocked him to sleep. Sudden tears misted his vision and Severus suppressed a sob. So many years wasted . . . damn you Albus! You meant well, perhaps, but I can't forgive you for this. Not now. Maybe not ever.

Harry stirred and Snape automatically put a hand on his son's back, gently rubbing it. "Hush. Sleep, child. I'm here. And this time I won't leave, I promise," the Potions Master vowed.

In his sleep, Harry Potter, who had once been a Snape, smiled.

* * * * * *

Harry dreamed he was running down a dark road and the Death Eaters were after him. He could hear their footsteps behind them and their wands shot green and red spheres at him that hissed and smoked when they hit the ground. He dodged them, but he knew he couldn't keep it up forever and sooner or later he would falter and then they would have him. His wand was gone and he could cast no spells.

Suddenly, a huge masked figure appeared before him, cold red eyes glinting behind the iron face. "End of the line, little boy. Time to die, Pretty-boy Potter." The Death Eater's wand came up and he hissed, "Avada-"

Only to be struck down by a blinding flash of white light.

When Harry could see again, he saw his father standing in front of him, glaring daggers at the dead wizard. "No one touches my son. No one." Then he held out an arm to his son and Harry walked into his embrace and they Apparated away to a small house with blue siding and white trim. On the porch waited his mother, smiling, and she rushed down the stairs to hug her husband and son. "You're all right! Now we can be a family again, the way it was meant to be."

Harry awoke still hearing his mother's voice in his ear, only to find that his head was pillowed on something soft. Opening his eyes, he discovered his face pressed against black velvet. Huh? Blinking, he lifted his head slightly, only then realizing he had fallen asleep with his head in . . . Severus's lap.

Harry felt his face go red, though he had no idea how he'd gotten into such an embarrassing position. The last thing he remembered was falling asleep on the couch. He was surprised his father had allowed him to remain so, but when he darted a look up towards the other man's face, he saw with a start that Snape had fallen asleep as well. Guess that explained a lot. Harry doubted if the strict professor would have allowed Harry to use him as a pillow otherwise.

The boy tried to shift himself off of Snape's knees, but the older wizard had his hand about Harry's waist and tightened when the teenager moved, and rather than disturb the man's rest and risk getting Snape annoyed at him, Harry resigned himself to staying where he was. Truth be told, it was quite comfortable lying this way, and Harry nestled into the deep black softness and drifted, musing over everything he'd heard and seen that day.

Perhaps the most shocking discovery, besides the loss of his magic was that the man he was lying on was his father. Not only that, but if Severus's discussion with Dumbledore was any indication, a father who very much wanted the son he'd been deprived of for eleven years. That was a new thing for the young wizard, who'd never been with relatives who actually desired his company, much less one willing to give up all he had for the son he'd only recently recalled. Yet Snape had done it and that regard went a long way towards healing the wounds the former professor had caused over the past two years with his sarcastic tongue.

The fact that the man was willing to protect him and had actually said he belonged with him helped soothe the child's shaky self confidence, and enabled Harry to forgive much of Snape's temper and attitude. Harry and Lily were my life and I would have never given them up forever. Never! His father's impassioned words to the scheming Headmaster echoed in Harry's ears and caused a warm glow to ignite deep within him.

It seemed he had waited his whole life to hear those words and it made him angry that Dumbledore had denied him the pleasure of a real home and a family all those years. Eleven years of being a slave to the Dursleys and made to feel like a worthless freak, and for what? he thought angrily. The greater good, he said, but what the hell does that mean? Dumbledore thinks I'm some sort of savior because I survived the Killing Curse as a baby, but how does that excuse the fact that he kept me from my father all those years, a father who actually wanted me and loved me? The teenager shook his head slightly, and smiled when the movement caused Severus to pat his back gently, as if soothing him to sleep. Snape had been right, whatever reason Dumbledore might have had, it did not justify keeping Harry from his real father all this time. He recalled the Headmaster saying something about Severus not being a decent parent, but he had to have been better than Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia. A dog was a better parent than they were, Harry scowled.

He bit his lip and considered the proposition Snape had put before him. Go or stay. Harry knew that if he stayed, he would be forever reminded of what he had lost and there was the possibility that he might not be permitted to stay at the school, since technically he was a Squib now, and Hogwarts was a school for young wizards. Dumbledore might think it best to send him back to the Dursleys and what then? No, he would never risk that. Far better to go with Snape-his father-wherever the older wizard wanted, at least Harry would be assured he had someone to protect him and maybe, just maybe, he could finally have a real father, just like everyone else.

He could just imagine Ron's face if he told him that-that he'd rather have Snape for a father than no one. He'd think I'd gone round the bend for sure. But then he doesn't know what it's like, having nobody. And he didn't hear the way Snape tore strips off of the Headmaster for keeping me from him all those years. For once in my life somebody actually cares about ME-not the Boy Who Lived, just Harry.

He hated the fact that he couldn't return to Hogwarts, he loved the school, it was like a second home, and he would miss Ron, Hermione, and all the rest of his housemates dreadfully, but he had no other choice. His life had been turned upside down and now all he could do was make the best of it. But at least he was no longer alone.

He yawned, he was still tired and achy, his body had not yet recovered fully from his ordeal with the Death Eaters, despite the wholesome food and potions Madam Pomfrey had given him. But his heart felt a bit lighter now that he had made his decision to stay with Snape, and perhaps gain a second chance at having a family. With that thought to comfort him, he closed his eyes and snuggled into the velvet robe beneath his head, falling asleep moments later.

He was awakened an hour later by Severus's hand on his shoulder. "Harry, wake up. You need to eat something."

Harry opened his eyes and groped for his glasses. Once he had them on, he sat up. Severus must have woken up and moved him, because the man was standing beside the couch and Harry's head was on a pillow. "What time is it?"

"Just past one. I think you ought to eat something and then you need to tell me what you've decided, all right?"

"Yes sir." Harry agreed, throwing off the soft afghan and standing up. "Uh, where's the bathroom?"

"Through there," Snape pointed to a wooden door across from the den area.

While his son used the facilities, the Potions Master summoned Dobby and asked him to bring them a light lunch.

When Harry emerged from the bathroom, a plate of ham and cheese sandwiches, chips, and tomato soup waited on the table, along with a pitcher of pumpkin juice. Harry promptly sat down and fixed himself a plate, his appetite had returned with a vengeance.

"I'm glad to see you're hungry again," his father remarked. "You're too thin, you need to eat more."

"I never really got meals when I lived with the Dursleys, only leftovers," Harry admitted, inbetween bites of his sandwich.

Severus's eyes flashed. "Miserable skinflint bastards," he growled. "They got a monthly stipend from Albus for your keep and they starved you."

"They did? I never knew that. They always said they took me in out of charity."

Severus snorted. "Not on your life. They were compensated, believe me. That was why I assumed you were spoiled, because I knew just how much money they received. It was more than enough to see to the needs of one boy. What did they do, spend it on themselves?"

"Probably. Dudley got loads of presents and stuff and all I ever got were his hand me downs and the toys he broke."

Snape looked livid. "I could throttle that old man. He sent you to live with those-those leeches when you could have been with me. Did he think I wouldn't provide for my own son? Stupid-" he bit off the rest of what he was about to say, sighing. Then he coughed and said awkwardly, "I know I haven't treated you fairly most of the time, Harry. Most of that was because I had a role to play, I was a spy for the Order of the Phoenix, which is the resistance movement fighting against Voldemort. Many of my Slytherins have parents who are still loyal to the Dark Lord, and I had to maintain the fiction that I was too, which meant favoring them and displaying animosity towards the Gryffindors, especially you. And I also resented you for being James's son, we were archenemies in school and I never really forgave him for taking Lily away from me. I looked at you and I saw James, my rival in school and for the woman I loved, and that was all I saw. I know that's no excuse, and I hope that one day you can forgive me my abominable behavior. I let old grudges and my temper rule me and I apologize."

For one moment Harry was speechless. Of all things, he'd never expected this. He swallowed sharply, and looked the other man in the eye. Snape met his gaze squarely and Harry saw regret in the dark eyes. It was not an act, Snape truly did regret what he had said and done. "I-I understand, sir. And I can forgive you. I provoked you a lot too and most of those detentions were deserved. I'd like to start over if-if that's okay with you, sir."

"It is." Severus said, and gave his son a tentative smile. "And there's no need to sir me now, Harry, I'm no longer your professor."

"Uh . . .what should I call you then?"

Severus was quiet for a long moment, then he said softly, "When you were two you called me Daddy. But I'll understand if you don't feel comfortable addressing me that way right now, and so you may use my given name, Severus, or Sev if you prefer. Your mother always called me Sev."

"Okay, Sev," Harry said, testing it out. It didn't sound quite so awkward, and he wasn't ready to call Snape dad yet.

"Good. How are you feeling, Harry? Are you still sore anywhere? Because if you are, I can put more salve on you," the Potions Master offered, relieved that the boy seemed willing to let bygones be bygones. He was very like his mother in that regard, for which Severus thanked God.

Harry flushed, acutely embarrassed, but managed to answer that he was fine and no, he didn't need any more salve.

"Are you sure?" Severus pressed, eyeing the boy worriedly. "Those were some nasty welts and bruises, son. Two applications might not have been enough."

"It was. Really, sir. I mean, Sev." Harry could feel his ears turning a brilliant scarlet.

Severus raised an eyebrow. "There's no need to be embarrassed, Harry. I was the one who applied the salve the last two times and there's nothing I haven't seen before. I used to be an apprentice Healer, you know, and I've seen my share of bare bodies."

Harry felt the back of his neck heat. "I know, but . . ."

Severus chuckled. "Really, Harry, who do you think gave you a bath and changed you when you were a baby?"

"Mum."

"Yes, but I took turns too."

"Sev, please! I don't want to know and I'm fine, honest I am!"

"Very well. But if you change your mind . . ."

Harry shook his head rapidly. Having Snape put salve on him when he was asleep or nearly so was one thing, but having him do it when Harry was fully awake and aware was something else again. Besides, he didn't want Severus to scrutinize those marks too closely, else he'd see that this hadn't been the first time he'd been beaten that way. If Snape ever knew that Vernon had taken a belt to him, Harry was certain the sharp-tempered wizard would Apparate to Privet Drive and curse his uncle and aunt into oblivion. And while it would have been immensely satisfying to know that they'd been made to pay for their abusive ways, Harry didn't want his father to go to Azkaban for hexing a Muggle. It wasn't worth it.

Seeing that Harry was pink with embarrassment and not wanting to push the boy, Severus relented and changed the subject. He had forgotten how easily embarrassed boys got when they were thirteen. Besides, I can always examine him when he's sleeping again and put on more salve if I think he needs it, thought the professor with a devious little smirk. There's more than one way to skin a cat. Or a Gryffindor. "Very well. But I do need an answer to my earlier question, Harry. Will you be staying on at Hogwarts or coming with me?"

"I'll go with you, Sev," Harry said. "I mean, there's no point in me staying now that I've got no magic and I don't want people pitying me or anything. And-and I'm really mad at Dumbledore for doing what he did and he might think I ought to go back with my uncle and I'd rather die. I've never had a real family or a father either and I'd like to." He glanced shyly up at Severus, his green eyes full of hope. "I'll try to behave myself, sir, and not irritate the hell out of you."

Severus smirked and said, "And I promise to be a good father and not criticize the hell out of you, Harry. However, I do have certain rules and such that you'll be expected to follow and consequences if you break them, but we can discuss that later. Finish your lunch and then you ought to go and pack up your things. We'll leave as soon as I've packed everything here."

Harry began eating faster, only to be told to slow down. He sighed exasperatedly, then obeyed. "Where are we going, Sev?"

"Someplace far away from here, where no one will find us."

"Like a deserted island?"

"No. I've contacted my aunt, Aurelia Prince Burns, who lives in America. She has agreed to open her home to us, she's a Squib who married a Muggle, though my uncle has since passed away from cancer. He was a nice man, though I didn't know him as well as I should have. She has a small cottage on the bay in New Jersey and has said we might stay with her for as long as we wish. She's eager to see me again and to meet you."

Harry brightened at that, then said, "Does she know we're wizards?"

"She does, so you have no need to fear speaking about your past, Harry. I think you will find Aunt Relia, as she likes to be called, a refreshing change from your mother's side of the family. I used to love going for visits when I was a boy, she spoiled me dreadfully," Severus admitted with a small smile. "I've no doubt she'll do the same to you, my boy." He then resumed eating.

After lunch, Harry went back up to his room to pack and Severus began packing as well. In two hours each of them were finished and the only thing left was for Severus to leave some farewell letters to his fellow staff members, like Pomona, Filius, and Minerva. Poppy he would say goodbye to in person, for she would have it no other way.

They found the medi-witch restocking her potions cabinet and when she caught sight of them, she immediately hauled Harry down on a bed and insisted on performing several diagnostic charms on him, over both his and his father's protests.

"Be quiet, Severus!" she ordered. "Who's the one with a medical degree here, Potions Master, me or you?"

Severus sputtered and Harry gaped, having never seen the tall professor at a loss for words before. But Poppy ruled her own infirmary and so Harry submitted to her with a groan, seeing his father wasn't going to be able to overrule the elderly witch. Even the Headmaster bowed to Madam Pomfrey in matters of medicine, despite his years and power.

"Hmm. Well, Mr. Potter, you seem to have mended from what those barbarians did to you, for the most part. You're undernourished though, Severus you need to brew him a Nutrient Potion and have him take it every day with food, at lunch and dinner."

"I will, Poppy," said Severus respectfully. Then he cleared his throat and said regretfully, "I have some unpleasant news for you, Poppy. I've resigned my position at Hogwarts."

"What?" the medi-witch gasped, staring at her colleague in utter shock. "In the name of Merlin, Sev, why? What's happened, dear?"

Harry would have snickered at the way Pomfrey addressed Snape, but it was no laughing matter.

Severus beckoned Poppy to a seat near her desk and told her what had happened that morning. The witch listened without interruption, her eyes wide. When Severus had finished, she rose and embraced the tall wizard. "Oh, Severus, I am happy for you, child, but I will miss you. You were my best assistant and there never was a better Potions Master."

Severus blushed and patted her on the back awkwardly. "Poppy, there's no need to carry on so. I'm not dead yet. I'll write you and perhaps come back for a visit one day."

"I know," she sniffed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "But I'll still miss you, Sev. That old fool doesn't know what he's done, with his high toned plans and such. He's always had his nose stuck where it doesn't belong. I warned him once that he ought to stay out of the private lives of his friends and allies, but he never listened to me and now he pays the price. Pride goeth before a fall."

"Indeed," Snape agreed gravely. He hugged the older woman back. "Keep in touch, Poppy. I'll give you my address as long as you promise me on your witch's honor never to reveal my whereabouts or Harry's to anyone."

"You have my oath, son. I would never betray you, Sev." She kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Take good care of Harry now and don't be too hard on yourself. You'll do fine."

"I hope so. I'm . . .not the best father material, you know."

"Nonsense, Severus Snape! You raised that boy fine once before, now the only difference is he's older and mouthier and more inclined to get into trouble he can't get out of. Just be there for him, Sev, and love him and you'll be a better father than most. You know what not to do, son, from your own experiences. Take it one step at a time and don't be afraid to make mistakes."

"I'll try. Thank you, Poppy," said the Potions Master sincerely. Then he drew away, muttering something about needing to borrow a quill and parchment, turning away hastily to wipe his eyes.

Poppy pretended not to see, then went over and hugged Harry, who was looking rather shell shocked. It had never occurred to him that the Potions Master actually had friends on the staff, nor that they would miss him when he was gone. "Well, Harry, looks like you're off on another adventure, eh?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I'm happy you finally have a family, child. You deserve it, and so does he, he's been alone far too long since Lily died." She lowered her voice and whispered, "I know he sometimes seems hard and strict, but that's a mask to hide his true self, Harry. Learn to look beyond it, son. He's a good man and he loves you, even if he doesn't always say it. Actions speak louder than words. Remember that. I think, once you come to know him better, you'll see the kind honorable man he really is, which is what your mother saw in him all those years ago. She made the right choice, Lily did, when she married Severus and not James. James was always flighty and impulsive, reckless, he wanted her because she was the one girl who didn't worship the ground he walked on. He loved her because she was a challenge. But Severus loved her, Harry, for all that she was, and he remained true to her always, and she to him. Don't ever let anyone say differently, you hear?"

"Yes ma'am."

She patted his cheek and Harry blushed. "Good. I wish you joy in your new life, Harry Snape. I will miss you, though perhaps one day you'll come back to us. Your magic is sleeping now, but I think it will awaken again. You just have to be patient, dear."

"I'll try."

"That's all anyone can ask. Remember what I said, young man, and do try and mind your father for once."

"Yes Madam Pomfrey," Harry agreed, then he hugged her back. "Thanks for saving my life. I'll write if my father lets me."

"Oh, he will. Severus Snape knows better than to break a promise to me, Harry. Take care now, child." She hugged Harry once more, much to his embarrassment, then let him go.

Harry rose and accompanied his father out of the infirmary. Unlike all the previous times, he would not be going home alone.

* * * * * *

They took the International Floo Network to the small cottage on the water at the Jersey Shore, after Severus had firecalled Aurelia to let her know when they'd be arriving. Once he'd shrunk all their belongings down so they could fit inside his traveling cloak and Harry's robes, the two stepped into Severus's fireplace and were whisked away in a shower of green flames. They went through three different fireplaces, making Harry's head spin, before at last arriving at their destination. By that time Harry's lungs were on fire from all the soot he'd inhaled and his eyes were watering.

Severus kept firm hold of his son's arm as they emerged from the grate onto a spotless flagstone hearth in a pale green and mauve colored den. A rather tall woman with dark hair and sparkling blue eyes rose to greet them. She looked to be in her mid-fifties or so, dressed in a pair of beige pants and a cream colored top with a pair of silver and turquoise earrings.

"Oh, you're finally here!" she exclaimed, smiling broadly. Then she eyed her tall nephew with something approaching shock. "Good heavens, Sev, you've grown since the last time I saw you."

Severus smirked. "I'd certainly hope so, Aunt Relia, since last time you saw me I was the same age as Harry here, thirteen." He stepped carefully from the fireplace, still gripping Harry's elbow.

Harry blinked, sneezed, then began to cough.

"You poor thing! Let me get you some water," said Aurelia, and she bustled away into the kitchen.

Severus patted Harry on the back and handed him a handkerchief to mop his eyes.

Harry coughed a moment more, then gratefully took the handkerchief and wiped his streaming eyes and nose. He felt as if he'd swallowed half the ashes in all three fireplaces.

"Here you go, dear." Aurelia handed him a glass of water.

Harry gulped it down eagerly. "Thanks," he murmured once he could talk again.

Aurelia smiled at him and said, "Welcome to the States and New Jersey, Harry. My name is Aurelia Prince-Burns, but you can just call me Aunt Relia, like the rest of my nieces and nephews do. It's a pleasure to meet you." She eyed him up and down. "My, but you remind me of your dad at that age. You're the spitting image of Sev, except for the eyes and your nose is smaller."

Harry grinned, Severus had removed the last of the glamours over him and now he did indeed resemble his father, with high cheekbones, silky black hair, long fingers, and he was taller by an inch and a half like Aurelia said. "And not as crooked," he added impishly.

Aurelia laughed and hugged him. "True, but well, you didn't break it playing Quidditch the way he did."

"You played Quidditch?" Harry stared at Severus.

"Yes, I was a fair Chaser once upon a time. Until a Bludger knocked some sense into me," replied Snape. He rubbed his nose lightly. "But that wasn't the only time my nose was broken. The second time was as a result of the werewolf prank Potter and Black played upon me. Remus knocked the door into my face. And the third time was while I was dueling a dark wizard and after that it wasn't able to be straightened. Too much scar tissue, even for magic to fix."

"Doesn't matter, Sev. You're handsome anyway," said Aurelia and she moved over to hug him too.

"Why thank you, Aunt Relia," laughed her nephew and he hugged her so hard she gasped. "You always did say the nicest things. I'm sorry I never got a chance to visit you before."

"Ah well, you've been busy. Better late than never, I say." She beckoned her two new houseguests into the den and said, "I've given you the two bedrooms on the west side, just off the kitchen. I've got supper on, but it'll be an hour or so yet. You can start unpacking, if you like. Make yourself at home."

The two wizards followed the matron down the hallway, finding the rooms she indicated were quite roomy and tastefully decorated in dark green for Severus and a deeper blue for Harry. Severus enlarged Harry's trunk and other items and left his son to get settled in while he did the same.

An hour later, Aurelia called them for supper and they sat around the small round oak table in the kitchen and ate their first home-cooked meal in their new home. Aurelia had made her specialty, spaghetti carbonara with crusty Italian bread slathered with butter. It was delicious and for dessert there was a chocolate mousse with fresh strawberries.

Afterwards, Harry washed the dishes, without magic unfortunately, while Severus filled Aurelia in on everything that had happened recently. As the young Gryffindor scrubbed the spaghetti pot, he thought that perhaps living here wouldn't be so bad, Aurelia was friendly, an excellent cook, and Severus seemed very relaxed here. He wondered if he would have to attend normal school in the fall, like every other kid, then shrugged and decided he'd worry about that if and when it became necessary. Right now he had all he could handle dealing with the move, his newfound father, and the rest of the summer.

It was three days since Harry and Severus had moved into Aurelia's cottage and Harry had managed to finish unpacking all of his things and assisted Severus with setting up a new potions lab in the basement. Harry didn't have too many things, just his school clothes and books, his Nimbus 2000, and the two photo albums. Severus was appalled at his lack of proper clothes, since all he had were Dudley's old ones, so the first order of business was to take Harry shopping for new clothes.

Severus asked Aurelia where the nearest store was, and all three of them took a trip down to Target to pick up a whole new wardrobe. Harry couldn't remember the last time he'd gone shopping for anything new, except school robes, and discovered that he enjoyed being able to choose his own outfits, sneakers, a wind breaker, and other assorted items. He was also shocked that Severus knew how to shop like a Muggle, and that price was no object.

"I was paid very well for my duties for the Order, Harry," he explained when Harry gaped at the final cost of everything. "I have more than enough money to support us. Eventually, we might start looking for another house, if I can find one that is suitable."

"You don't have to do that, Sev," Aurelia put in. "I don't mind the company and there's more than enough room." She picked up several bags and began to carry them towards her beige Hyundai Sonata.

"I don't want to put you out, Aunt Relia," Severus began.

"Sev, you're family, for heaven's sake!" the older woman said, sounding a little insulted. "Now just swallow that blasted Snape pride of yours and let me give you a roof over your head, free and clear. It's the least I can do, seeing as I couldn't help you after my sister died all those years ago."

Severus sighed, then said reluctantly, "I'm not used to accepting favors from anyone, but this time I will, and thank you very much. We really appreciate this."

Aurelia smiled. "I think I appreciate it even more. The house has been so empty since my Sam died." She got into the car and they drove back home. "Oh, I still see my daughter Melody and my granddaughter Mia on occasion, but it's not the same as having another person there. I was considering getting a cat until you two showed up."

Aurelia worked as a freelance business consultant from her home for four days a week and was semi-retired. Her husband, Sam Burns, had been a Major in the Air Force and his widow received quite tidy pension from the government. "So I really don't need to work as much as I do, but I like to, it keeps me busy. My mother is probably turning over in her grave right now, seeing her youngest daughter working for a living."

"Why?" Harry asked, seating himself at the table with a glass of Coke.

Aurelia snickered, her blue eyes dancing merrily, and seated herself next to him with her own glass of Coke. Severus sat opposite them with a glass of iced tea. "Because my mother, Casseopia Thalia Prince, who was once from the ultra pureblood Black family, believed the only things a lady should do were look glamorous, marry well, and graduate Hogwarts. I was a disappointment to her on all three counts, I'm afraid. I didn't inherit her stunning looks, I'm a Squib, and I married-horror of horrors-an American Muggle. I was lucky she didn't disown me. But that was probably due to my father, your great-grandfather, Harry, his name was Gavin. He was a pureblood too, from an ancient and respected lineage, but he had none of their prejudices against Muggles or Muggleborns."

"I remember him, a little," spoke up Severus. "My mother took me to meet him when I was six. He gave me Chocolate Frogs and Ice Mice and told me a story about Merlin. He also said that I should never be ashamed of being a half-blood, because then I had the background of two cultures to draw on and that made me a special person. I really liked him and I wished my mother had been able to bring me to see him more often before he died."

"Yes, my dad was a wonderful man, he used to get into some fine arguments with my mother over all that pureblood racist garbage. She tended to treat me like I didn't exist sometimes, since I was an embarrassment to her pureblood perfect family, but my father always told me that I was his little girl and perfect just the way I was, magic or no magic. Once, one of my snooty Black cousins, Bellatrix, I think her name was, visited my house and started teasing me something awful. I think I was around five then and Eileen was seven and Bellatrix the same age as Eileen. Well, Bellatrix was going on and on about how she was better than me because I was nothing more than a magicless freak, almost as bad as a Mudblood. Eileen slapped her right across the face and she ran inside saying she was going to tell on us. But the first adult she found was my dad, and when she told him what had happened, he was furious."

"At my mother?" asked Severus.

Aurelia shook her head. "No, at Bellatrix, for saying such terrible things to me. And when he saw she wasn't the least bit sorry, he washed her mouth out with soap and spanked her."

"Good for him," Severus said with a satisfied smirk. "I never heard that story before."

"It was so long ago, Sev, your mother probably forgot about it. We never saw Bellatrix after that, for which we all thanked God. And Eileen always defended me against any pureblood child who dared to sneer at me for being a Squib. She was a good older sister, when I met Sam and we decided to marry and move here, she was the only one of my family who supported me and who I invited to the wedding. And she came too."

"What about your dad?" Harry queried.

"Oh he would've been there too, if he'd been alive. But he died just before I met Sam, he had a heart condition, it's common in the Prince line with the men." She looked at Severus and Harry speculatively. "Have the both of you received yearly check-ups with a heart specialist or whatever you wizards have? I'm not worried so much about you, Harry, you're too young, but Severus needs to watch now that he's approaching thirty-five."

"My heart is fine, Aunt Relia. The last Healer I saw confirmed that I have no hereditary signs of any heart disease or any other heart related problems," Severus reassured her.

"That's a relief," Aurelia heaved a sigh.

"Harry, why don't you go and put all of your new clothes away?" Severus suggested. "By the time you're done with that, lunch should be ready."

Harry agreed, then picked up all his new purchases and went to put them in the closet and dresser. It felt a bit odd, having so many clothes that were all brand new and actually fit, instead of being too big or too long. He wished he could cast a spell that would put away his clothes in a twinkling, but he'd showed no signs of his magic returning, and so had to do it the Muggle way.

After he was done, he sat on his bed, which had a blue comforter and thick plump pillows, much more comfortable than his old cot at the Dursleys with its sagging mattress and threadbare sheets, and picked up his Nimbus and stared at it.

This and his school books and robes were all he had left of his time at Hogwarts, he thought sadly. He wondered if he dared fly his broom here. The loss of his magic was like a gaping hole within him, sometimes he could almost forget it, but other times, like now, he was reminded of it sharply. He tried not to think about it, but it throbbed and he couldn't resist poking at it, sort of like the way a kid poked at the empty space where a missing tooth had been with their tongue until it was sore.

He sat and stared morosely at the polished golden wood grain of his broom, tears slowly falling onto it unnoticed, until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Harry, it's time for lunch," Severus told him.

Harry jumped, startled by the other's noiseless approach, and looked up. "Huh? Oh, right." He turned to set the broom against the wall.

"Harry, what's the matter?" Severus asked, alarmed at seeing the tears on his son's face. "Why are you crying?"

"It's . . .nothing!" Harry said quickly, only then realizing he had tears on his cheeks. Mortified, he swiped them away.

"Harry, if you're upset about something, we can discuss it," Severus began.

"No! I don't want to talk about it!" the boy growled, flushing. "There's nothing you can do anyway." He turned and started for the door.

"Harrison Remus Snape, come back here!" ordered his father, his stern tone freezing the younger wizard in his tracks.

Reluctantly, Harry turned and faced him, noting that Severus was wearing a familiar scowl on his face. "What? I don't need to discuss anything with you."

"You may not, but I need to have a discussion with you, young man," Severus snapped, and pointed to the bed. "Sit down."

Harry obeyed, wondering uneasily if he was in trouble. He began to regret snapping at Snape that way. The man wasn't his teacher any more, he could do far worse than give him a detention for his smart mouth.

"First of all, you will not use that tone of voice with me, mister, I don't care how upset you are," Severus began, fixing the rebellious teen with his trademark Snape glower. "I'm an adult and your father and the least I deserve is respect from you. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir. I'm sorry."

"Now, I can understand if you're not ready to discuss whatever was upsetting you, and I'm not going to push you, but sometimes a problem is best shared, Harry. I want you to know that you can come to me if you need to for advice and I will try my best to help you. That's part of my job as a parent. Secondly, I need to go over some rules with you for the summer." He cleared his throat and Harry braced himself. "I don't believe in allowing a child to do nothing all summer except laze around in bed, so you will have chores to do, very basic ones, picking up your room, helping your aunt if she needs it, setting the table and washing dishes. I may also require you to help me brew certain potions. Even though you can't use your magic, magic is not necessary to chop up ingredients or memorize a recipe. I also want you to finish your summer homework."

Harry scowled. "But why? What's the point if I'm not going back to Hogwarts this year?"

"No knowledge is ever wasted, Harry. Besides, no one can be sure when your magic will return."

"It might never return," Harry said bitterly.

"Or it might return tomorrow," Severus said gently. "You should not abandon all hope just yet, Harry. You suffered a grave injury to yourself, much like a stroke, and these things take time to recover from. Months, possibly a year or more. I wish there was something more I could do for you, but the fact is that time is the only thing that can heal your magic."

"What if it can't? What if I'm a-a Squib forever?"

"Then we will deal with it, son, if and when it becomes necessary," his father replied quietly. "Aurelia manages quite well without magic, you know."

"It's easy when you've never had it to begin with," Harry said sullenly. "She doesn't know what she's been missing. I feel so . . .empty inside. I start to say a spell, only to remember that I can't. I lost my wand, but it doesn't really matter, since I doubt I'd be able to use it."

"Actually, that's not true. I have your wand. I summoned it from the table where Lucius put it just before I came to you in the cell," Severus told him.

"You still have it?"

"Yes. Would you like it back?"

Harry almost said yes. Then he shook his head. "No. What good will it do me now?"

Severus reached out and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Very well, I will hold on to it for now. When you're ready, simply ask and I will return it to its rightful owner." He gave his son's shoulder a comforting squeeze. "I know this is hard for you, Harry. I would be going mad without my magic. But you aren't alone. If you need to talk, I'm here."

"Too bad you weren't all those other years," his son cried, then froze. He hadn't meant to say that, but his anger at losing his precious magic was too close to the surface and it had just come out. "I-I didn't mean that, sir. Not the way it sounded." He cringed, waiting for the explosion, wondering if Severus would lose it now and slap him one.

Severus was watching him closely, noting the instinctive flinch when he leaned towards the boy, the half-raised arm, as if to ward off a blow. He knew the signs, no one knew them better, having lived with a drunken bum who beat him for every little thing. "Harry. Calm down," he made his voice very soft and sat down on the bed, so he wasn't towering over the boy. "I'm not going to hit you. I would never do that, son."

Gradually Harry felt his heart stop racing in instinctive fear and he lowered his arm, which he didn't even recalling throwing over his face. He glanced away from the other man, embarrassed and ashamed at acting like a cringing crybaby in front of him.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"It's all right. It was inappropriate, but I deserved it. I treated you awfully and you have a right to be angry with me. Look at me, please." Severus waited until his son had turned around and was facing him. "I know that my actions in the past haven't caused you to trust me much, Harry, if at all, but I promise you that even if you disobey me, even if you make me angry enough to yell at you, I will never hurt you the way your so-called relatives did. I will never beat you, whip you, starve you, or lock you in a cupboard. What they did is abuse, plain and simple, and if I could have I would have cursed them until they went insane for the way they treated you. No child deserves to be punished that way, no matter how badly you misbehave."

"Uncle Vernon said that I was a freak and the only thing worse than me was an adult freak," Harry recalled.

Severus swore under his breath. "How in the name of Merlin could Albus have left you with them all those years? Harry, did you ever mention to anyone what your life at home was like?"

Harry shrugged. "I tried, once or twice when I was in primary school. But when the principal called my aunt and uncle to talk to them, they said it was all lies, that I made it all up, and I was a-a chronic liar. Then Uncle Vernon beat me for being a lying no-good freak and said if I ever said anything to anyone ever again about what went on at home, he'd kill me. So I didn't. That's why I was so glad when I got my Hogwarts letter."

"I can see why. But why didn't you tell a professor then, Harry, or even the headmaster? Meddling old coot that he is, Albus would never have condoned sending you back if he'd known what they had done."

"I did try and tell him, sir. After the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. He told me to make sure I got lots of rest when I got back home and I said that would never happen, that I had too many chores to do for my aunt. I told him that I wished I could stay at school and he said it wasn't possible. He knew I'd never really gotten letters from them, or presents at Christmas. Ron mentioned to him about last summer, when Dobby came and made the cake fall on dumb Mrs. Mason's head and Uncle Vernon . . .he smacked me upside the head and put bars on my window and locked me in my room for half the summer until Ron and Fred and George got me out with Mr. Weasley's flying car."

Snape was gazing at the child in mute fury and anguish. "He put bars on your window?" he repeated, very softly. His eyes glittered with a terrible rage. "He put BARS on your window and locked you up like a bloody CRIMINAL?"

Harry flinched at the way Severus was yelling, even though he knew the man's anger wasn't directed at him. "It wasn't too bad . . .at least Aunt Petunia fed me every day or two through the cat flap," Harry said, trying to mitigate some of the man's fury.

"She what?" Severus hissed. "She fed you through a CAT FLAP! What the bloody blazes did she think you were, a bloody goddamned wild beast?"

"Yeah, I guess. But at least she fed me. Sometimes in the cupboard, they used to forget."

Severus was nearly beside himself. With a shudder, he forced himself to get hold of his emotions before he scared the child to death. "And this was how they treated you all the time, correct?" he asked, breathing deeply.

"Well . . .not all the time. They only locked me up like that because of the Masons and all. Otherwise I was allowed to come out of my room to clean the house and work in the garden and cook dinner."

"How charitable of them," sneered Severus. "Did they throw you a bone too, when you were done? And Albus knew of this and still he sent you back there?"

"Umm . . .no, he didn't know everything. I-I never told him the details," Harry began, not wanting to make Dumbledore look bad.

"But he knew something wasn't right. He should have sent someone to check on you. Minerva, Filius, Remus, even me."

"You? You would have gone?"

"Yes, I would have. For all I thought you were a spoiled brat, and the son of bloody James, I would have gone to make sure they weren't abusing you. You were my student and it's part of my duty as a professor to make sure you were safe. And if I had discovered what they had done . . ." Snape's voice deepened to a midnight black tone that made chills run down Harry's spine. "Let us just say there would have been two new statues on their front lawn and a pig in their backyard. And that's if I was in a good mood."

Harry smiled a little imagining his aunt and uncle as lawn ornaments and his fat cousin a pig, squealing and grunting.

Severus shook his head. "Albus, damn you, what were you thinking? Blood wards will fail if the subject of them is abused repeatedly, because then they don't feel like part of a family. Merlin, Harry, I wish you had told one of us before."

"I-I didn't think anybody would care," answered the boy in a very quiet voice.

Severus stared at him, aghast. "How can you say that?"

"Because everyone at school only saw The Boy Who Lived. I was famous, I was Harry Potter, I had lots of money left to me from my dead parents and nobody wanted to hear about the other Harry, the freak his relatives beat and hated and wished dead. I was too ashamed to tell Ron and Hermione and Dumbledore just ignored me, McGonagall saw the star Seeker, and I sure as hell couldn't tell you, Severus, because you would only laugh at me and say I deserved it. Nobody cared!" Harry shouted, his eyes blazing with anger mixed with unshed tears.

"Oh God. Harry . . . I would have never said that . . ."Severus stammered, stricken to the heart by his son's assumption. "Was I really so bad as all that?"

"Yes! No! I don't know!" the boy yelled, then all at once he began to cry. "Why did you have to make me remember? I didn't want to."

"I know, son," Severus whispered softly. "I know it hurts. But now you can heal, a little." He cautiously put an arm about Harry's small shoulder, afraid that the teenager would not welcome his touch, but not able to simply sit there and do nothing while the child was in such pain.

At first Harry hunched away at his touch, but then all at once he turned around and grabbed onto Snape's neck, clinging for dear life. Severus's arms came about him, pressing the child's head into his shoulder, holding him close. "There now, child. You're safe. No one will ever hurt you like that again." He began to rub circles on Harry's back, whispering softly the way he used to when his son was a baby. "It's all right, son. Cry if you need to, I won't drown."

Thus encouraged, Harry sobbed, crying an ocean of tears, all the tears he'd never shed in his years with the Dursleys, and Severus held and rocked him, whispering over and over that he was safe and loved and that he was sorry, tears falling on his son's raven hair as well.

Aurelia came down the hallway to see what was keeping them for so long, saw the boy and the man clinging and weeping all over each other, and brushed a tear from her own eye before tiptoeing back into the kitchen. She knew the two of them needed time to come to terms with their imperfect past and this emotional release had been a long time coming and was much needed. Now perhaps their wounded hearts could begin to mend, a little at a time.

After that rather cathartic discussion, Harry went to go and wash his face in the bathroom, allowing Severus time to compose himself as well. The Potions Master had no idea whether or not his son had heard him murmuring apologies while he sobbed his heart out on his father's shoulder. Severus hoped he had, but if not then he would humble himself and apologize again for being such an insensitive sarcastic bastard during the school year. Harry's unexpected revelations about his relatives had shocked and disgusted him, he was furious that those-those people, if they could be called that, thought they had the right to treat a child that way, their own blood no less.

Really Sev, you shouldn't be surprised, after all look what kind of hell your own father put you and Mum through. But I never wanted that for my son. When Harry was born I swore to myself that I would be a better father than Tobias, that I would never make my son afraid of me, never hurt him or belittle him the way mine did me. I was going to give him the childhood I never had and instead he ended up with the childhood from hell, just like mine, and I hurt him the same way my father had hurt me. Damn you Voldemort! And damn you Albus! Remorse and regret stabbed through him like a knife and Severus buried his face in his hands for a moment.

Harry had just emerged from the bathroom and was going to grab a pullover, for he was suddenly cold, when he saw Severus still sitting on the bed, his head in his hands. Harry's mouth fell open. Holy God, is he crying? Over me? Never in a millennium would Harry have expected that reaction. Perhaps Severus really did love him.

Harry quickly stepped back from the door not wanting Severus to catch him staring, he knew the man's pride would be severely damaged. He still felt embarrassed for crying all over Severus and he was thirteen, he could only imagine how much worse it would be for a grown man to be caught crying.

Of course, before today he never would have thought Snape, his cold-hearted professor, would ever shed a tear over anyone, much less Harry Potter. Except I'm not a Potter anymore, he reminded himself. I'm a Snape. That sounded so weird, but at the same time so right. For now he belonged somewhere. But he still had a lot of unanswered questions, such as why and how had Severus become a spy? Why had he chosen James to play the part of Harry's dad if he disliked the man so much? And who had betrayed Lily and James to Voldemort? For the y must have been betrayed, since they had not known Voldemort was coming for them until it was too late. Harry recalled that much from his nightmares.

One day he would have to sit down with Severus and have a talk about some of these things, for Harry was tired of being kept in the dark, and only given information in drips and drabs, when it was safe for him to know about it, according to Dumbledore. Now that he was no longer the so-called savior of the wizarding world, he wanted to know everything and Severus alone could provide the answers.

Harry turned about to go down the hallway to the kitchen, for his stomach was growling loudly, and Severus came out of his bedroom. Harry eyed him sidelong and noticed that the man's face was calm and composed, with no traces of tears. Harry wondered how he did it. His own emotions were easily readable. Hermione had once said that his face was like an open book.

But Snape said nothing about what had occurred, simply accompanied Harry down the hall into the kitchen. Aurelia greeted them and Severus apologized for being late, but they'd had some things to discuss. Then they sat down and ate the leftover pasta carbonara and some garlic toast.

"This tastes just as good reheated as it did last night," Severus commented, taking a second helping.

Harry raised an eyebrow, he'd never seen Severus eat this much at school. Still, he had to agree, it was delicious, and he took another helping himself.

"Why thank you, Sev. You know, you always did like my cooking. When you and Eileen visited me, you always said I cooked better than anyone in the family."

"It's the truth, Aunt Relia," her nephew said with a chuckle. "Although Mum would always pretend to be insulted and pull my ear for my impudence. But she knew as well as I did that you were far and away a better cook."

"Indeed. That's why she never refused my leftovers," Aurelia grinned. "You used to love helping me in the kitchen when you were small, Sev. You liked to help me measure out the ingredients for all my recipes. One time we were making chocolate chip cookies and you added too many chocolate chips and cried that they were ruined. But when we ate them, they tasted fantastic and I told you . . .do you remember what I told you, Sev?"

Slowly, the Potions Master nodded. "Yes, as a matter of fact I do. You told me that sometimes the best things can come out of a mistake and that I shouldn't be afraid to take a chance on something new. And you were right. Because I took a chance on Lily when everyone else said it was a mistake for a Slytherin to date a Gryffindor and she made me the happiest man alive, by loving me in spite of everything and giving me my son."

Harry ducked his head to hide his sudden flush of pleasure at his father's words, but Aurelia smiled in delight and said, "Well, I'm glad someone found my advice worth listening to. Sometimes I wondered if I was talking just to hear myself talk, the way Melody listened. Ah well, you know what they say-never a prophet in your own home."

"When did Melody get married?" Severus asked. "Last time I saw her she was eleven and said boys were only good for playing hide and seek and getting into trouble."

"She changed her mind when she met Devon Barry," sighed Aurelia. "She got married when she was twenty-six. She had Mia when she was twenty-seven. My granddaughter was the best thing to come out of that marriage. Devon is a conniver and a womanizer, if you know what I mean. Sam never liked him either."

"Is she still married to him?" Harry wanted to know. If Melody was his father's first cousin that made her Harry's second cousin, at least he thought he'd figured it right.

"Unfortunately, yes. She claims she can't just leave him, and leave Mia without a father. In my opinion, no father is better than the one she's got, who's never home and when he is he makes the child all sorts of promises he never keeps and leaves and Mia is left behind wishing for something she'll never have. She's such a sweet child, it breaks my heart to see her so unhappy, Devon's the sort who never ought to be a father to a kitten much less a little girl."

Severus's mouth tightened into a grim line. "Perhaps I might have a word or two with the rotten bastard." His manner suggested that if he ever met up with Devon, he'd have more than a word.

"Much as I'd like the slimy bounder to get what's coming to him, I don't want you to commit murder, Sev. He's not worth it."

"Oh, I wouldn't kill him. He'd just wish I would."

"Severus, please. I'd really rather not have to come and bail you out of jail," Aurelia said, waving a finger under his nose.

"Very well, Aunt Relia. I'll try and restrain myself from breaking the scum's nose. Or reversing his backside and his face. But only because you asked me to."

"Still a scamp, I see, Severus Tobias Snape," laughed his aunt, then she rose to put the dishes in the sink.

At the Potion Master's nudge, Harry stood up and offered to wash the dishes instead, but Aurelia told him she was perfectly able to wash a few plates and told Harry to go into the den and watch TV if he wanted.

It had been a long time since Harry had gotten to watch TV on his own, at the Dursleys Dudley and Vernon had monopolized the television and Harry was never allowed to watch it unless they were gone and Harry had stayed home alone. He flicked through the channels, finally settling on a movie called Robin Hood Prince of Thieves.

Harry remembered reading about the legendary bandit when he went to primary school, and he'd always loved the way the rogue had used trickery and guile to achieve his ends, by robbing the rich and giving back his ill gotten gains to the poor of the shire. This movie looked like one of the better made ones about the clever hero and Harry settled down to watch it.

It had just started, and soon Harry was joined by Severus and Aurelia, who had made a large bowl of popcorn and also had ice-cold glasses of lemonade for all of them. Soon they were all riveted to the screen and when the Sheriff of Nottingham made his appearance, Harry frowned and darted a quick glance at Severus.

It was odd, but he could almost swear that there was a resemblance.

Harry quickly dismissed the ridiculous notion and continued watching the movie. But he wasn't the only one who had noticed that little fact. When it was over, Aurelia remarked slyly, "You know, Sev, that Sheriff looked an awful lot like you."

"Hey, I was thinking the same thing, Aunt Relia," Harry agreed, his green eyes twinkling. "The face, the nose, maybe he's your Muggle double, sir."

"Very funny, Harry," Snape remarked sourly. "Why am I always the bad guy?"

"Umm . . .because you're such a grouch?" Harry replied, greatly daring.

"Incorrigible brat!" his father mock-growled. "Is that any way to talk about your father?"

"Uh, well, you told me I should always tell the truth," the younger Snape smirked. "And you're awfully grouchy first period Potions."

"That's because all of you children never follow directions and your incessant chatter drives me up the wall," countered the professor.

"And you're a grouch."

"You know, you're really asking for it, young man," Snape purred.

"I am?" Harry asked innocently, gazing at his parent with puzzled eyes.

"Definitely," Severus said, not fooled by Harry's innocent act.

"You know, there's a character on another TV show I used to watch when I was little that reminded me of you too," his son said, giving his father a sneaky smile. "He was green and his name was Oscar . . .Oscar the Grouch!"

At that, Aurelia burst out laughing.

"Brat!" Severus grabbed his son and began to tickle him unmercifully, until Harry was collapsed half over Snape's knees, helpless with laughter.

"Please . . .no more . . .ha . . aha . . .I'll be good . . .promise . . ."

"Now why don't I believe you?" asked Severus silkily, his long fingers finding all of Harry's most ticklish and sensitive places and making the boy burst out in renewed giggles.

Harry tried to curl up in a ball, but Severus deftly poked him in the stomach and Harry uncurled, leaving his ribs unguarded and the Potions Master's fingers danced lightly over them.

"Ahhh . . .okay . . .I take . . .it . . .baack! . . ." Harry gasped, laughing so hard tears streamed from his eyes. "You're . . .not a grouch . . . you're . . .bloody brilliant!"

Snape halted, his eyes gleaming. "No need for flattery, brat!" He gave the snickering imp a very light smack on the bottom. "I trust you've learned your lesson about insulting me?"

"Yes sir," Harry said, crawling off of Snape's lap and looking up at him from his fringe of black hair.

"Smart boy. Because I'd hate to have to resort to the Prince Punishment Method Part Two," threatened Severus.

Harry eyed him warily. "What's that?"

"It's when I pin you on the ground and tickle you with a feather for fifteen minutes. I'm told it's worse than the Tickle Curse. I did it to Remus when he really annoyed me once and nearly made him wet himself."

"Remus Lupin that was your best friend?" Harry gasped, laughing.

Severus nodded, an imp of mischief dancing across his normally solemn features. "The same. And also your godfather, Harry."

Harry quit laughing. "I have a godfather?"

"Certainly. And a godmother as well. Though poor Alice Longbottom would never know you now, since she's in St. Mungos, and has been for the last twelve years."

"Neville's mum is my godmother?" Harry repeated.

"She is. She was your mother's best friend." Severus told him, all traces of mirth vanished.

"What happened to her? Neville hardly ever mentions her. Or his father either."

"That's because it hurts him to speak of what was done to them. On the same night that Voldemort came and attacked Lily and James and you, son, two of his followers, Bellatrix and her husband, went to the Longbottoms and tortured Frank and Alice into insanity with the Cruciatus Curse. They've been in St. Mungos ever since, which is why Neville lives with his grandmother."

Harry's mouth hung open. "Merlin! I . . .I never knew . . .that's awful! So Neville has no parents either, just like . . ." he trailed off, for he'd been about to say "Just like me" only that wasn't the case any longer. "Did they ever catch the ones responsible?"

"They did and they've been in Azkaban for the past twelve years." Snape informed him.

Harry decided that now was as good a time as any to ask about the wizard who'd betrayed James and Lily to the Dark Lord. "What about Mum and James? Did they ever find out who betrayed them that night? Cause somebody had to, otherwise they'd have fought him or gotten away, right?"

"Yes. James and Lily were protected by the Fidelis Charm, and only their Secret Keeper knew where they were hidden. The wizard who was their Secret Keeper was James's best friend, Sirius Black," Severus spat the name like a curse. "He betrayed them to Voldemort, but he later paid for his mistake."

"Did you kill him then?"

"No. But the Aurors brought him in and he went to trial for killing thirteen Muggles and Peter Pettigrew, another one of his school friends. He's been in Azkaban for twelve years too. The three of them, Black, Potter, and Pettigrew, used to hang out together in school, and they eventually allowed Remus to join them. They called themselves the Marauders and they were the bane of everyone. Especially me." Severus's expression darkened as he recalled what the three bullies used to do to him.

"Why? What did they do?"

"Everything they weren't supposed to. They lived to break rules, and Albus allowed them to run wild. They were Gryffindors and his pets and he rarely punished them for anything. Although Remus didn't really participate in most of their pranks, he was made a prefect eventually. I was one of their targets, they liked to play pranks on me, but some of their pranks were not funny, such as the one where they dared me to go into the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade, and I did and nearly was bitten by Remus in werewolf form."

"My godfather is a werewolf?"

"Yes, he was bitten when he was five and there's no cure for lycanthropy. Though I've patented a potion called the Wolfsbane Potion that enables him to transform to a wolf and not a beast and sleep away the full moon every month. Without it, Remus is a savage beast, uncontrollable, and a danger to everyone around him. Back when we were in school there was no potion he could take, and the only thing Albus could do was to keep him confined. No one knew of his condition, not even me, he hid it well, until Black and Potter's foolish prank. Stupid imbeciles! They could have killed us both, for if Remus had bitten me he'd never have forgiven himself and if the Ministry learned of it, they'd have killed Lupin for doing so."

"But he wouldn't have meant to bite you!" Harry protested.

"That wouldn't matter. A werewolf who deliberately bites a human must be killed, by Ministry law," Severus explained. "Black and Potter's little joke nearly cost me my friend that night, not to mention my own life. I never really forgave them for that, though Remus did eventually."

"Then why did you and Mum choose James to be my, uh, stepdad?"

"That was mostly your mother's choice, because Potter had always had a thing for her," here Snape's lip curled. "So it would be believable if she divorced me and married him. Also, Potter was not as much to blame as Black for the incident in the Shrieking Shack. He got cold feet at the last minute and pulled me away from the door when Remus leaped at me, saving me from him. He was a heroic imbecile, and I never cared for his arrogant ways and his string of girlfriends, but he was willing to help us with our deception. He was also a good stepdad to you, Harry. Treated you like his own, which was why he left you his inheritance when he died. It was a pity he trusted Black, but then he never was a good judge of character."

"Did my mum like him?"

"Not when we were in school. She couldn't stand the way he lorded it over the other students or how he singled me out for special torment. He fancied her something awful though, and she wouldn't give him the time of day. He used to follow her around, trying to get her attention, and she would pretend he didn't exist. He invited her to the Yule Ball and she turned him down and went with me instead," Severus recalled with a fond smile. "When he saw me with her on my arm, he was livid. Green with jealousy. He marched up to me and said "What's the big idea, Snivellus, taking my girl from me?" and your mother says, "Bugger off, Potter. Sev's three times the man you are, now get your perfect face out of my own before I hex your nose off. I wouldn't go out with you if you paid me a million Galleons." Then we walked away and he was left standing there, gaping like a witless ass, and the whole school saw how she rejected him, and chose me, the Slytherin prefect who was poor as a church mouse, over the golden lion. Later on though, she forgave him and they were friends."

"Good for her, Sev!" commented Aurelia. "I wish I could have known her, she sounds like she knew class when she saw it."

"She did. She saw what no one else did," Severus said softly. "She saw a friend in Remus the werewolf and she saw her soulmate in me. Of course, we were friends first, she lived down the street from me, and I was the one who told her she was a witch and taught her what I knew of all things magical." He looked about then said, "Harry, go and get the photo album your mother gave to you. I want to show it to Aunt Relia."

Harry rose to get the album, praying Snape wouldn't show his aunt the utterly embarrassing bathtub picture, or any of the other ones of him as a baby half-naked and acting like show-off.

They started out looking at the pictures of Sev and Lily's wedding, with Severus offering comments here and there. "She made an absolutely stunning bride," he said when they looked at the first picture of Lily in her wedding gown. "When I saw her walking towards me, I couldn't believe that she was actually marrying me, out of all the men she could have chosen." Severus smiled reminiscently, his dark eyes alight with love. "She was the only woman I ever looked twice at and the only one I ever dared to love who actually loved me back." Then he shot a mischievous look at his aunt and added, "Present company excluded, of course."

When they came to the picture of the Potions Master dancing with his new bride, Severus bit back a laugh. "Looking at that makes me remember how blasted nervous I was. I'd never danced much as a teenager and I was terrified I'd look like an idiot in front of everyone, since Lily loved to dance. So I had Remus give me lessons. Then he goes and makes a bet with James and Black, who didn't believe I could dance without falling flat on my face, that I'd do the mambo at my wedding. I had no idea, of course. But your mother did, Harry, and she convinced me to dance it with her." Severus shook his head. "To this day I don't know how I recalled all the steps, but I did. And I made Remus twenty Galleons richer and showed Black that purebloods weren't the only ones who could dance."

He pointed out a young woman wearing a pretty turquoise dress and soft shimmery white robes, she had dark hair and violet eyes, standing next to Lily and smiling. "That's Alice Longbottom. She was your mum's maid-of-honor, I think she called it. Only she wasn't married to Frank then, though they were engaged. They married two months after we did. You and Neville were born on almost the same day."

Aurelia quickly turned to the photos of Harry as a baby. "Adorable!" she cooed and Harry wanted to hide under the sofa. "He's such a perfect blend of you and Lily, Sev."

"That's exactly what Remus said." Severus indicated the picture where Remus was bouncing a thirteen-month-old Harry on his knee. "He was thrilled when you started talking, and then you called him Uncle Moony, which was his old nickname among the Marauders. I think his name was the third word you spoke."

"What was the first one?"

"Dad, of course," answered his father. "But you babbled all the time, we couldn't get you to shut up. You were speaking in full sentences by fifteen months. One day we were in the park, and I was pushing you on the swings, and a lady came by and started saying how adorable you were and asked how old you were. And before I could answer, you said, "I'm fifteen months and my name's Harry." I thought the woman was going to faint. "He talks!" she gasped. And then you looked at her and said, "So what? Don't you?" I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing."

Harry grinned, and thought, Looks like I was a genius. At least compared to Dudley. He didn't talk in sentences until he was nearly three.

"But we had to watch what we said around you, because you were a parrot and repeated everything. Lily was angry with me for something one day and she yelled at me, and didn't realize you were awake and listening. When I went to pick you up out of your crib, I asked how you were doing and you looked straight at me and said, "Damn it all to hell, Sev."

Aurelia chuckled. "I seem to recall your mother had a similar problem with you, Sev."

"Figures," Harry snickered, and earned himself a mild Snape glare.

"That's why when we had James and Black babysit you, Lily threatened to cast a permanent mouthwash charm on Black, because he could never remember to watch his mouth around you." Severus remarked gleefully. "The first time the two of them watched you, you ended up learning a whole new vocabulary, and sounded like one of my father's Cheapside tavern mates. Lily was horrified and I was none too pleased either. But eventually we broke you of that habit."

"How?" asked his son.

"Time out and a bar of soap."

"Yuck!" Harry made a face.

"It worked. And be warned, I still don't tolerate such language, so watch your mouth, Mr. Snape. Otherwise I have a bar of soap in the cabinet waiting for you."

"Oh no! No way! You wouldn't."

His father just gave him a long look. "I never threaten, Harry."

Harry gulped and vowed to watch his language around Severus. "What about when Remus watched me? Did he have a nasty mouth too?"

"Oh no. Remus hardly ever swore, unless he was undergoing a transformation, because that hurt like blazes. But otherwise he was very even tempered. He gave you that stuffed wolf you're holding in this picture." Severus indicated the gray stuffed wolf two-year-old Harry was hugging. "You called it Wolfie, and took it everywhere with you."

Harry frowned, then said softly, "I think I remember it. I had it when I went to the Dursleys, but Dudley ripped it apart. I cried and Aunt Petunia slapped me and said I shouldn't make such a fuss over some dirty old rag."

"What a horrid woman!" exclaimed Aurelia angrily.

"Yeah, she was a real winner," said Harry sarcastically.

Severus's eyes flashed, but he refrained from commenting on Petunia's behavior. "I remember one time when Remus was taking care of you, you were about a year and already walking. Lily and I were going out to a play and dinner and this was the first time Remus was watching you all on his own. Lily left him instructions, more like a bloody book really, and he was so proud that he followed it. We arrived home and Lily asked him how it went." Severus's lips quivered. "Remus was so proud of himself. "I put on his sleeper and everything, it wasn't hard. I think he's finally asleep. We read four books." Then you come out of the bedroom, dragging Wolfie, yelling, "Mummy and Daddy home! Harry wake up!" and when we turned to see you, you had managed to wriggle half out of your pajamas, they were on backwards, and your nappy was hanging off of you. Lily and I looked at each other and I said, "Great job, Lupin!" and then we nearly died laughing."

Harry buried his face in his hands. "Please, Dad!" he groaned, not even realizing he'd addressed Severus as his father for the first time since learning they were related. "D'you have to go into detail?"

"Hey, you asked."

Harry made a face at him, then blanched in horror when Aurelia turned the page." No! Don't look at that one! Please!" He made as if to cover it with a hand. It was the infamous bathtub picture.

"Whyever not?" Aurelia asked.

"Just show her the picture, Harry," Severus ordered.

"No way! It's too embarrassing. It's a blackmail picture."

"It will be unless you let her see it," threatened his father silkily. "I'll show it to your first serious girlfriend."

"Ahh! Okay! Fine!" Harry removed his hand from the photo.

"Aww! How cute! You look like you were having a wonderful time in your bath, Harry."

"Yeah, just dandy," remarked her nephew sarcastically and was promptly swatted on the back of the head by his father.

"Manners, young man," reprimanded Snape.

Harry rolled his eyes.

He was sulking like a six-year-old, and Severus couldn't resist teasing him a bit. "You know, this was the infamous bubble incident. We started out putting bubbles in the bathtub and then you grabbed the whole bottle and dumped it in the water and in five seconds we had bubbles all over everything," Severus declared wickedly. "Took us forever to get rid of them, even with banishing charms. You thought it was great, and for weeks afterward, you would sneak into the bathroom and run the water and throw bubble bath in it, your mother got so tired of cleaning up bubbles she charmed the door shut finally. Then you threw a fit, until I came home and made bubbles with my wand for you."

Oh great! I was a brat obsessed with bubbles. Just what I wanted to hear. He wondered if other kids' parents had similar embarrassing stories about them.

Severus was grinning openly, and somehow Harry knew that meant trouble. The man was smirking like a Cheshire cat. "Speaking of wands, you were the worst little brat for touching them I ever knew. Every time Lily or I turned around, you were snitching one of our wands. No matter how many times we scolded you, you couldn't keep your fingers off them. "Mine! Mine!" you'd scream when we took them away. I can't count how many times I swatted your hand for playing with one. But the worst time was when you managed to get hold of James's wand and blew a huge hole in the kitchen floor."

Severus shook his head, recalling with crystal clarity that day. He went rushing into the kitchen to find his mischievous son staring at the huge hole in awe and delight, then gazing up at his father and smirking. "Look! Boom, Daddy!" James's wand clutched in one little fist.

"Harrison Remus Snape! What have I told you about touching wands?" Severus cried, scowling angrily. "Give me that!"

"Nooo! Mine!" wailed his son, sobbing pitifully as the wand was plucked from his grasp.

"Not yours, young man," scolded Snape. "James, get in here and fix this if you would." He handed the smirking James his wand back, then picked up his son, saying angrily, "Harry, that was very very bad! How many times have I told you to leave wands alone?"

"Daddy mad?" his son gazed at him with pitiful puppy-dog eyes glistening with tears, and his lower lip trembled.

"Yes. Because you can't seem to listen. Playing with wands is very dangerous, you could get hurt badly, maybe even killed," Severus lectured, hardening his heart against the pathetic sight.

"Harry sorry."

"Now you are. But not as sorry as you will be in a minute," his father stated grimly, steeling himself for what he would have to do next.

"Then I took you over my knee and spanked you. It was one of the few times I ever did," Severus recalled. "But it made an impression, because you never touched a wand again. Or if you did, I never knew it. James said I was being too hard on you and complained to Lily when she got home. And Lily told James that he ought to be spanked for letting her son get hold of a dangerous magical object, since he'd left his wand out on the table after she'd told him to put it away."

"What'd he say to that?" Harry queried, still blushing.

Severus rolled his eyes. "Being Potter, he said he wouldn't mind if she spanked him, and she smacked him on the head with a wooden spoon and said she'd let me do the honors, because I'd make a bigger impression on his stubborn arse. I said it'd be my pleasure to teach him manners, and that was when Potter decided it was time to leave," chuckled Severus wickedly. "Now there was one spanking I'd not have minded giving at all, God knows he'd earned one a hundred times over for the things he'd done to me and gotten away with at school."

For some reason, the image that conjured, of Severus hauling James over his knee, and taking a spoon to him, made Harry start laughing uncontrollably. He laughed so hard he nearly knocked himself off the couch.

It felt good to laugh like that, he couldn't remember the last time he'd done so.

Soon Aurelia and Severus joined him and for one blissful moment, all their current worries were banished. They spent the rest of the afternoon looking at the album and laughing at all the mischief Harry got into, until Aurelia said it was time for dinner and handed Severus the phone to call for Chinese take-out.

It had been three weeks since Harry had moved into Aurelia's home with Severus and things between the two of them were starting to look up. Harry was gradually beginning to trust the older man, and finding that the greasy bat of the dungeons was simply a cover to hide the real Severus Snape, who was at turns, quiet, compassionate, keen-witted, and had a wry sense of humor. He could also be strict, sarcastic, and still bore a fearsome temper, but Harry had since realized that he didn't need to fear that his father would ever lose control of it and hurt him the way his uncle, aunt, and cousin had.

Severus had informed Harry that he would only dole out appropriate punishments for misbehavior, nothing excessive. They would include lectures, lines, being sent to his room, additional chores, getting his mouth washed out with soap, and grounding, which also included taking away his broom and being sent to bed at ten o'clock instead of the usual ten-thirty. Severus also reserved the right to extend or reduce any punishments given based on Harry's attitude and willingness to accept the consequences of his actions.

"Meaning as long as you behave and take your punishment gracefully, I might reduce it by a day or an hour or whatever. But pout, whine, and act like a spoiled brat and I'll extend your punishment to whatever I feel is appropriate until you modify your behavior. So be warned," his father told him at dinner after they had looked at the photo album. "Also, if you think my punishment is unfair, you are free to try and come up with three valid reasons why and present them to me in an essay, as well as alternative consequences. If they are logical and persuasive enough, I may agree to alter my decision. Otherwise, my original punishment stands. Are those terms agreeable to you?"

Harry said that they were. He was actually surprised at that last condition, for he'd always thought of Snape as inflexible in his decisions. Of course, there were exceptions to the argument rule, one of them being that if Harry ever risked his life, for whatever reason, there would be no getting out of the consequences Severus set for him. Said consequences would most likely include a lengthy grounding, loss of many privileges, a severe scolding, and possibly a swat or two. "I've noticed that you have a terrible tendency to leap first and look afterwards, you seem to rush into things without thinking and that is something that can get you killed, Harry. A good example is your recent decision to run away from the Dursleys without informing anyone, thus making yourself vulnerable to the Death Eaters. You might have written one of us or your friends a letter before running off that way, so we knew where you were. I want you to start thinking before you act, son, it's a skill that may someday save your life."

Harry reluctantly acknowledged that maybe Severus was right, and resolved to try and think about his actions in the future. Really, it was no more than what Hermione was always going on about whenever he and Ron planned something, like sneaking into the Slytherin common room to spy on Draco using Polyjuice Potion.

Recalling that incident now made Harry squirm guiltily, for he'd stolen several valuable and expensive potions ingredients from Severus's personal stores. Once that wouldn't have bothered him, but now it did, especially since he started helping the Potions Master harvest certain ingredients and saw how time consuming it was drying and preserving certain herbs and animal parts. The boomslang skin had to be imported from Africa, and it took days to dry properly, not to mention it cost over forty Galleons. That alone was enough to make Harry's conscience start nagging him.

He wondered if his father had ever figured out who was behind the thefts in his office or the exploding firework in his potions class that day. For one moment, Harry was almost tempted to confess it all to Severus. But then the normal teenage survival part of his brain kicked in, and he shoved that crazy notion in the back of his mind, next to the one of him standing in the Great Hall naked singing about Voldemort.

After all, he didn't want to die before he was sixteen.

Currently, he was working on completing his summer essay and reading in Transfiguration and Potions. He usually left his summer homework till the last minute because Uncle Vernon had locked his trunk away in the basement and he couldn't get his texts without resorting to magic, which was forbidden to underage wizards.

Now, under Snape's watchful eye however, he was encouraged-make that ordered-to complete his assignments in a timely fashion. Not only that, but he also had to show his essays to Severus and the teacher would then look them over and decide if they were acceptable. If not, Harry would do them over. Suddenly, being the son of a professor did not seem so wonderful after all. At least before, the only one who had ever criticized his essays had been Hermione. And Harry had the uneasy feeling that Snape's idea of suitable was even more exacting than Hermione's.

But at last he was finished with McGonagall's essay and had moved on to reading about certain types of poisons and their antidotes. He'd managed to get through a quarter of the reading before Aurelia called him for lunch. After he'd eaten, he had gone for a walk, reminding himself to ask his father if it was safe to ride his broom. He missed his daily rides on his Nimbus at school.

But when he returned from his walk, he found Snape waiting for him, wearing a frown of disapproval, his newly finished essay in his hand. "Harry, did you even read the text before you wrote this?"

""Uh . . ." Harry deliberated for a moment on whether or not to tell the truth, then wilted under Snape's knowing glare. "Not really. I guess I kind of . . .skimmed it. It was so dry and-and boring."

Severus shook his head. "Nevertheless, that theory is important if you're to understand the principles behind transfiguring an object into living matter. This essay is nothing but rambling and fabrication, with an actual fact tossed in here and there. This is not the kind of work you're capable of, Harry. Now do it over again and this time read the assignment first."

"But-but, sir, I spent two hours on that this morning."

"Two hours daydreaming, yes," his father said sternly. "Now look at my corrections and redo it. No arguments, or else you can spend tomorrow in your room also, doing an additional essay on why you should develop good study habits."

With a groan, Harry took the essay, noting it was full of Severus's red pen marks and comments. This was all he needed. Scowling, he stomped away toward his room, and almost slammed the door, before remembering what Severus had said about taking his punishments gracefully.

To his surprise, his father's comments were not as acidly sarcastic as they normally were and he was actually able to use some of them to help him comprehend his reading. The chapters were still dry and boring, but at least he knew there was a point to them and he managed to get through them without being totally confused.

Even so, he was still only on the beginning of his essay when Snape tapped on his door to tell him it was time for dinner. Harry tossed his quill down moodily and thought about just refusing to do this blasted assignment. Somehow, he didn't think that was an option, not with Severus as his father, the bloody perfectionist.

"How are you coming along?" his father asked when Harry came out from his room.

"Terrible," his son growled.

"Where are you having trouble?"

Harry eyed him askance. "Ummm . . .you're actually gonna help me? I thought I had to do this myself."

"That's the general idea, however, if you're having difficulty, you may always come to me and ask for help," Severus pointed out.

Harry chewed his lower lip then said, "You promise you won't laugh? Or say I'm stupid?"

"Have I ever given that impression before?" Severus asked, astonished.

"Sometimes." Harry admitted, digging at the carpet with his sneaker.

"If I have, I apologize. That certainly was not my intention. I had to maintain the fiction that I was hard and unapproachable in class, but most students knew that they could come to me for help if necessary."

"Even the Gryffindors?"

"Yes. I tutored Katie Bell and Oliver Wood in Advanced Potions last term. Was there a particular problem you were having with the reading assignment? Perhaps we can go over it after dinner and I can clarify what you don't understand."

"Okay," Harry sighed, though the last thing he wanted to spend time doing that night was his Transfiguration homework. He was sick of the sight of it. Maybe if he completed the blasted essay, he'd still have time to watch TV before bed. He disliked the fact that Snape thought he needed a bedtime, as if he was a little kid, but Severus insisted that he needed to get a decent amount of rest each night, for he was still recovering from the torture the Death Eaters had inflicted and sleep was essential to his recovery, both physical and magical. So Harry grumbled about being sent to bed at ten-thirty, the same way he grumbled about taking the Nutrient Potion two times a day, but Severus ignored him and Harry followed his dictates reluctantly.

Now he understood better what it meant when Ron complained about his parents being on his arse for every little thing. Funny, when he'd imagined himself with a father, he'd never thought about having someone hovering over him 24/7, making sure his schoolwork was completed and that he went to bed at a reasonable hour. In his dreams his father had been there to talk with and fly with and go to Quidditch matches or buy him stuff, but he'd forgotten that there was another side to parenting, the one where you were an annoying pest to your kid, always harping on doing chores and homework.

Well, Harry, you wished for a father back in that cell and it came true, so now you're just gonna have to deal with it. Like every other kid does.

"Sev?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Can I watch TV later if I work on my essay after dinner?"

"Yes, you may watch TV later, provided your essay is complete."

"What if it's 95% complete?" Harry argued.

Severus cocked an eyebrow. "Turning Slytherin on me, are you?"

"Well, the Hat almost put me in there, you know."

"Really?" Snape's eyebrow climbed into his hair.

"Uh huh. Only, well, I kind of talked it out of it, ‘cause Ron told me that half the dark wizards came from there and I'd just met Malfoy and he was like the snob of the century and I didn't want to get stuck being friends with him, so I told the Hat not to put me there and it put me in Gryffindor instead."

"I see. Well, meeting Malfoy would be enough to put off an angel, so I can't say I blame you. Although, by and large, Slytherin's reputation for being a House of Darkness is unearned. Only a handful of witches and wizards from there ever went dark, unfortunately that handful included Voldemort, and the notoriety far outweighs anything the rest of its members have done." Severus coughed. "Ambition is not always a bad thing, you know. I had hoped once that my duties as a spy might offset the reputation that only dark wizards come out of Slytherin. Unfortunately, that was not to be. Come along, son. Aurelia and I made chicken marsala tonight and you don't want it to get cold. We can discuss this later."

"And my essay?" Harry pressed. "Do I have to totally finish it?"

"We'll discuss that later too. Now come," and with that, the Potions Master took his son by the elbow and led him towards the kitchen.

Harry enjoyed his dinner thoroughly and he didn't even mind washing up afterwards, in fact he lingered over it until Severus ordered him to quit dawdling before it got any later and the only thing he'd be able to do after finishing Transfiguration was go to bed. Harry quickly finished the dishes.

They spent twenty minutes going over the parts of the theory Harry couldn't understand and then Severus made an outline for Harry to use when writing the paper and told him to get to work. This time, Harry was able to write more clearly and concisely and he soon had the assignment finished. He just prayed that it met with Snape's perfectionist standards.

"Hmm. You spelled a few words wrong, but other than that, this is much better than the last thing you handed me." He gave the essay back to Harry. "Give me a clean copy with no spelling errors and you may watch TV."

"Thanks, Sev," Harry said sincerely, and went back to rewrite it. Then he muttered, "I wish I could use a pencil, this'd be so much easier to correct. Why can't they invent erasable ink quills?"

From behind him, he heard Snape chuckle. "Don't you know the reason why we wizards still use quills, Harry?"

"No. Why?"

"Because writing with a quill takes discipline and precision. Two things essential when using magic and casting spells. Now get going and finish, it's nearly nine." He shooed the boy away with a gentle swat.

• * * * * *

Harry chose to watch a sitcom called Friends for the rest of the hour-and-a-half before bed. Snape didn't care all that much for it, but he allowed Harry to choose the show tonight as a reward for finishing his essay. Once it was over, Harry bid his aunt and his father good night and went to get ready for bed.

After he'd brushed his teeth and combed his hair, which was now a straight silky black and not a messy dark brown mop, he spent a few minutes stroking Hedwig, who was given free run of the place, and fell asleep.

He thought he would be too tired to dream, but that wasn't the case. Once again the nightmare haunted his sleep, as it had done for the past four nights.

* * * * * *

Once more he waited on that deserted street corner, sitting atop his trunk, Hedwig in her cage beside him. He didn't know just what he hoped to accomplish doing that, but he was tired from dragging his trunk all the way down Privet Drive and over Sunset Avenue and he just needed a moment to catch his breath and get his bearings. He needed to get a ride to London somehow, so he could get to Diagon Alley and rent a room at the Leaky Cauldron.

But before he could even take three breaths, six figures in black robes and metal masks similar to Halloween ones, erupted from the air. "Don't bother to fight, boy," hissed one, pointing a white wand at him.

He drew his own wand, but a flash of light sent it spinning from his hand. Defenseless, he backed away. "Who are you? What do you want from me?" he cried, his voice crackling on the last word, much to his shame.

"We are Death Eaters, those who are pledged to the return of our Dark Lord," answered another one, his voice was suave and cold. "And that is all you need to know, Mr. Potter."

Then another pointed his wand and cried "Incarcerous!"

Ropes exploded from the wand and wrapped themselves about him, binding him fast.

He fell to the ground, striking his head and knew nothing more.

When he next awoke, he was in a dingy stone cell, freezing, his mouth tasted like old socks had been stuffed in it, his head was pounding like seven trolls were stomping on it, and he could barely see out of the film that coated his glasses.

When he reached out to wipe them on his shirt tail, he discovered he was alone and unbound. Once his glasses were clean and he could see again, he lost no time in searching for a way out.

But there was none. He was trapped like a mouse in a snake's glass cage. Helpless. Easy prey.

Then he heard the cell door squeak open, it was loud, like the ones in all those horror flicks Dudley used to make him watch when he was little, hoping to scare him to death. They never had, he'd always known they were make believe.

But now he was afraid. So very afraid.

The black masked figure, a Death Eater, was what they called themselves, came into the cell. The only thing he could see of the wizard's face was the eyes, cold icy blue eyes that roamed over the slender frame leisurely, the way a cat might eye a mouse before he pounced upon it.

"So. This is the famous Harry Potter. I must say, you don't look like much of a savior, Boy-Who-Lived."

He said nothing, knowing it was best to keep still.

"I think you just got lucky, boy. But now, unfortunately, your luck has run out." The Death Eater chuckled mirthlessly behind the iron mask. "I knew it was only a matter of time before that fool Dumbledore overplayed his hand. Putting you with Muggles was clever, I'll give him that, but he relied too much on the wards and blood ties and not enough on facts. And the fact is, thirteen-year-old boys never do what they're told. They always disobey, even if they're told it's for their own good. You were told to stay within the bounds of the property, weren't you, Potter? And what did you do? You ran away. Tsk, Tsk. Naughty little boy."

The Death Eater took a step forward, removing a white twisted cord with knots along its length from a pocket of his robes.

"Naughty, Mr. Potter. Now you pay the price and must be punished."

He pointed his wand and suddenly Harry was unable to move. Another word and his trousers disappeared and then the masked man brought the knotted cord down.

Burning pain shot across his backside and he gasped and cried out.

* * * * * *

In his sleep, Harry thrashed and moaned softly, but his subconscious mind was still trapped in the realm of dreams, reliving the torture he'd experienced at the hands of various Death Eaters. His forehead beaded with sweat, and he clenched his fists and bit his lip hard, steeling himself against the phantom pain.

He jerked and whimpered, but still did not wake, and his mind continued replaying the events in the cell.

* * * * *

His body was wracked with pain, as the Death Eater cast the Cruciatus Curse on him over and over. He hadn't known what it was, not until they'd told him, but the name of the foul magic mattered little.

He'd only wanted it to end, to stop the agony that burned like fire through all his nerves and limbs. "Make it stop!" he'd screamed. "Please, please . . .no more . . .!"

He'd wept and begged like a baby, all of his courage and Gryffindor pride shattered.

But that was not the worst of it.

The worst was when the Death Eater with the cold blue eyes had returned and cast a special spell on him. A spell that as yet had no name, because it was newly invented. A spell designed to strip a wizard of the most important thing he had-his magic.

"If this works, Mr. Potter, you can tell everyone you were its first recipient-the test subject, if you will," laughed the blue-eyed wizard. "You may have survived the Killing Curse, but even you shall not survive the loss of your magic!"

Then he'd pointed his wand and spoke two words.

"Fracta Magica!"

There was a blast of purple light that twined about him and pulsed, sucking the power right out of him.

He howled in agony, for he felt as if his soul was being torn asunder, as the power that was his birthright was ripped from him, leaving him broken and battered, bleeding from an invisible wound deep within his psyche.

The purple light had now turned black, as it absorbed all of his magic, bloated like an overfull pig bladder. He writhed on the floor, his voice gone from screaming so much.

And above him the Death Eater laughed in triumph.

The spell had worked perfectly, shattering the magic of the famous boy wizard.

The last thing he said to Harry before he left was, "Now my Lord is safe for all time from you and that blasted prophecy. For you cannot be his doom, Potter, if you are nothing more than a filthy Muggle. Now my master shall triumph and reign supreme at long last, as was foretold. Goodbye, Potter."

* * * * * *

Harry awoke at last, trembling from head to toe, the corner of the pillowcase stuffed in his mouth. He spat it out and gasped for breath, shivering and sweating at the same time, tears streaking his cheeks and dripping onto the pillow.

Sniffling sharply, he wiped them away. He could still hear that awful voice in his mind, saying the spell that shattered his magic, that stripped him of all that made him a wizard. Lost, it was all lost.

Once more he saw the bright purple flash, felt it curl about him and begin tearing his magic away.

No! I won't remember that! I won't!

He began to gasp for breath, then shake violently.

Anguish and black despair crept up on him and suddenly he felt as if there was nothing left for him. Shattered magic, shattered soul. Of what use was he now?

Moaning, he buried his face in the pillow, wanting desperately to go back to sleep, yet afraid he would dream again. In his restless state, he'd thrown off his covers, and he sat up to retrieve them.

A shadow hovered by the door, making him start.

"Harry? What are you doing still up?"

Wide emerald eyes, bright with fatigue and terrible despair, met dark ones. "It was . . .I had . . ." he stammered miserably, unable to articulate past the lump in his throat.

"A nightmare, child?"

Harry nodded, dropping his gaze to the blue coverlet.

Severus came into the room, moving like a shadow, one minute he was by the door and the next he was sitting next to Harry on the bed. "Would you like to tell me about it?"

His son shook his head, his eyes still fixed on the blanket fisted in his hands.

"Sometimes it helps to talk about it," Severus continued, sensing the boy was drowning in anguish and sorrow.

"Why? It won't change anything."

"Maybe not, but sometimes talking with another person can help put it into perspective, so to speak. What did you dream about? The Dursleys?"

Another shake of the head.

"Ah. Then it must have been about the Death Eaters."

The boy did not answer and for a minute Snape wanted to take him by the shoulders and shake him, just to make him acknowledge the fact that Severus was there. He squashed that impulse and cultivated the patience he'd honed as a spy, where he waited and watched for a scrap of information to fall from the lips of his enemies.

"So, you dreamed about the Death Eaters, I presume. They're a nasty piece of work, aren't they? Cold and cruel and fanatics of the worst sort. Wicked people who delight in hurting and killing any they feel does not belong in their narrow view of the world."

"If you know then why do I need to tell you?"

"Because I don't know, Harry. Not really. I think it might do you good to talk to me about what happened. You've been carrying around this burden for weeks now, please allow me to help you bear it, if only for awhile."

"You wouldn't understand. You've never been . . .afraid," Harry whispered, his tone bleak, but his green eyes accusing. "You've never been helpless. How can you possibly know how I feel?"

Severus reached out and very lightly rested his hand atop his son's clenched fist. "Trust me. I know exactly how you feel."

"How? You're an adult, a powerful wizard. How can you know?"

"Because once I was a boy like you. A boy to whom terrible things were done. Shall I tell you my story, Harry? Then perhaps you will be able to trust me with your own."

"All right. I guess. If you want."

For the first time that night, Harry looked up into his father's face.

Severus drew out a handkerchief and silently handed it to his son. Then he began his tale.

Summer 1967

34 Spinner's End, London

"Severus! Get your skinny arse down here NOW, boy!" roared the eight-year-olds drunken father.

Gulping back a sob, the boy hastened down the stairs, praying that his father was not quite as drunk as usual, for it was a fact that the drunker Tobias was, the meaner he got, and the quicker he was to lash out at his son, or wife, or anyone who happened to come within range of his hand. Still, he knew better than to ignore his father when he called for him. He'd made that mistake once when he was five, and he still bore the scars on his backside for that little bit of rebelliousness.

He was older now, and wiser, he knew better than to bait the demon that called himself Tobias Snape. He knew not to cry in front of his father, no matter how much the older Snape walloped him, and he knew that when his father was passed out drunk was the best time to scamper off to the park and play with Lily Evans, his best friend. His mother Eileen worked long hours and was rarely home, so it fell to Severus to cater to Tobias's demands and cook breakfast and lunch, if they had anything to cook that day, that is. Sometimes all they had to eat was bread and butter or maybe that and a hard lump of cheese. Once in a great while they had eggs and milk, and Sev could make scrambled eggs and toast, and if his mum had managed to put a bit of her pay aside, they'd get bacon or ham and have a feast while Tobias was down at the tavern, drinking and playing cards.

As soon as Severus's head peered over the banister, Tobias scowled and beckoned the child over with a finger.

Sev approached warily, wondering if he were going to be hit for something. But this time his father did not raise his hand to him. "Here. Take this and go buy me a bottle at Pete's," ordered the man, handing the boy a handful of shillings. He was unshaven and his eyes were bloodshot, his dark hair was lank and greasy, and his blue shirt had stains on it from booze and old food. Usually, Tobias would grab a bite to eat at the pub, if he could drag himself away from the tables or the bar, like he'd done last night, leaving Eileen and Sev to enjoy a meal in peace.

Severus pocketed the money, concealing a sneer as he did so. That money should have gone to buy him new shoes or some food, but instead it would be poured down his bum of a parent's throat. Same as always. Then he recalled something and said softly, "But Dad, Pete said last time that he'd not sell you anymore gin ‘til you paid your tab."

Tobias glared at his son warningly. "Never y'mind, kid! Jus' do as I say. I made an arrangement with Pete, now get goin' and look sharp!" he aimed a cuff at Sev's head, which the boy dodged neatly.

Severus knew better than to linger, and scampered quickly out the door and down the cracked sidewalk to the local pub, called Pete's Pirate Haven. At least that was what the sign said, but the locals just called it Pete's. The sign was half lit and bore a skull and crossbones on it and two cutlasses.

Severus was a familiar sight in the pub, so the few men at the bar or seated at one of the tables barely gave the eight-year-old a glance. They all knew he was here for Tobias's afternoon fix.

Severus hopped up on a bar stool and plunked the money down on the well worn but lovingly polished wooden countertop. Sal, the bartender, looked up from where he was drawing a pint and gave the scrawny child a smile. "The usual, Sev?"

"Yeah, Sal."

The bartender, who was in his mid-forties, took half the money and handed Severus a brown paper bag. Inside it was a bottle of cheap gin, Tobias's usual poison. He then slipped Severus the rest of the money, plus a chocolate bar, a package of pretzels, and a can of soda.

Severus smiled and gave the bartender a thumbs-up sign in thanks. Sal always gave him something when he worked and Sev came to pick up Tobias's bottle, and he never charged full price for it either, unlike Mike and Joe, the other two bartenders. But Sev could never acknowledge that Sal was doing so, or else the man would be sacked by Pete, who didn't believe in charity.

"Tell your dad there's a game on tonight," Sal informed the child.

Severus nodded. "Poker or cards?"

"Poker. Medium stakes."

"All right. Gotta go, else I'll catch it."

Sal lifted a hand in a wave as the boy slid down from the stool and raced out the door, shaking his head sadly. Sev was by no means the only kid he saw in here fetching booze for his old man, but there was something about the slender boy that touched the bartender profoundly. Maybe it was the way the boy's dark eyes still contained a mixture of hope and innocence, despite the harsh hand life had dealt him. Severus Snape was plenty smart, he could be somebody if he ever got the chance to leave Spinner's End. Sal prayed he'd get the chance, for he didn't want to see Sev end up like so many others, thugs and thieves and bounders, crushed by poverty.

Severus would have been astonished if he knew he inspired such feelings in the bartender, the boy tended to think he was beneath the notice of most adults, like he was with his father. He ran home as fast as he could, gave Tobias the bottle and a shot glass and told him about the poker game.

"Good. I could use a few quid," grunted the man. "Now beat it, kid. Take your ugly mug outta my sight, you're makin' me sick."

"Yessir," Sev turned to go, but not quick enough to avoid his father's hand, which landed hard on his backside.

He bit his lip, for the smack had hurt, but he said nothing and scampered away, blinking back tears. Stupid, Sev! You know better than to move before he's taken the first shot, he scolded himself as he slipped out the front door. Once out of his father's sight, he rubbed away the sting in his behind and wiped away the tears that had gathered in his eyes.

Then he went towards the park, and waited beside the swings, which was his and Lily's usual meeting place. She was already there, dressed in her usual blue jeans and colorful tie-dye shirt, her red-gold hair pulled carelessly back from her heart-shaped face. Her green eyes were sparkling with mischief.

"Hey, Sev. Been keepin'?"

"Uh-huh. Where's your sister?" He hated Petunia and was always wary when the older girl accompanied Lily to the park.

"Cleaning the bathrooms," Lily answered, smirking. "She got in trouble for telling off my mum, and now she's got to clean the house. So we don't have to worry about her spying on us. Did you get it?"

Severus nodded. "Yeah, but let's go to the rock."

The rock was their special place, a flat topped boulder half screened by a stand of poplars on the left side of the park. They played King Arthur and the Knights of the Roundtable there or Hogwarts or any one of a dozen other make-believe situations. Both Lily and Sev had incredible imaginations and they read constantly, and often play acted scenes in books they'd read or watched on TV.

Once they'd reached the rock and made sure there were no nosy children lurking about, Sev slipped the book he'd borrowed from Eileen's lab from under his shirt and handed it to Lily. It was called Beginning Potion Making by Allie Asphodel. Eileen had told him once that this was a very basic book that introduced a child to the art of brewing potions.

Together the two began to read the magical text, their heads together, dark and light. When they had read the first chapter, which told how to gather ingredients for a Color Change Potion, Lily looked up and said, "I wish your mum didn't work so late all the time, Sev. Then she could teach us more about potions."

Her friend sighed. "Yeah. She said she might be able to show us a little on Friday, since it's her day off. But we have to wait until he's gone, ‘cause if he catches us doing magic, he'll go bonkers."

Tobias was adamant that Eileen not corrupt his son with any of that "hocus-pocus crap", and he forbid Severus to learn anything about magic or wizards. "I want a normal kid, not a flaming freak," he was always saying. Severus had learned early on to never to mention the word magic around Tobias, for that was the quickest way to earn a whipping, and Tobias was most unforgiving with the belt when he caught Sev talking about magic.

Lily cast her friend a sympathetic glance. "Why'd he marry your mum then, if he doesn't like magic?"

Severus shrugged. "Dunno. He's an ass."

"Why doesn't she divorce him then?"

"Who knows?" sighed the boy, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "Wish she would. Then I wouldn't need to hide all the time. I wish . . ." he trailed off, blinking rapidly.

"What do you wish, Sev?"

"That I had a different father," answered her friend, very softly. "One who loved me. Instead I get the drunken bastard from hell." His dark eyes flashed. "Someday when I'm older and I can do magic on my own, I'm gonna hex him into next week. Then he'll see what it means to mess with a wizard."

Lily stared at him, wide-eyed. "Would you really hex your own dad?"

Severus nodded. "Sure. In a blinking minute, Lil. Why? Don't you think he deserves it?"

"Of course, but won't you get in big trouble, Sev? You told me you're not allowed to use magic outside of school."

The little boy scowled. "I know, but maybe it'd be worth it. I'd love to give him a jackass's head, or make boils come out all over him, or make him so sick he wished he was dead."

"Your mum wouldn't like it. She'd be mad."

"I know. That's why I'd never do it. But oh, how I'd like to!"

Lily nodded, her green eyes bright with compassion. "I'm glad you wouldn't, Sev. ‘Cause I'd hate for you to be arrested. But I'd visit you in jail though," she added impishly.

"They don't get visitors in Azkaban, Lily."

"How come?"

"'Cause of the dementors," whispered Severus.

"What's that?"

"They're, uh, the guards that patrol Azkaban. They're like spirits or something, they look like black ghosts and they make people go insane by sucking out all the happiness from them. And if you're found guilty in a wizard trial, they can be told to perform the Kiss on you."

"The Kiss? That doesn't sound so bad."

"It's awful. My mum said the dementor takes off its hood and feeds off your soul until you're dead." Severus told her, a shiver of fear running down his backbone.

Lily shivered too. "Ugh! Sounds wicked and creepy. Do they ever come out of Azkaban?"

"No. Least I don't think they do."

"Thank God," Lily gasped in relief, glancing about quickly, goosebumps on her arms.

Severus nodded, though secretly he wished one would come over to Spinner's End and suck out Tobias's soul, so then they'd be free of him. Then he shook his head, for that death was too dreadful even for Tobias. If only his father could be made to understand about magic, the way Lily's parents did. They were Muggles too, but they didn't treat their kid like a piece of trash or call her freak and beat her for inheriting magic.

He turned back to the potions text and began reading the second chapter aloud to Lily. By the time they were done with that, it was almost dinner time and they could hear Petunia calling Lily in her screechy annoying voice.

Lily groaned and handed Sev back the book. "Darn it! Just when it was getting interesting too. I gotta go, Sev, before she comes over here and sees you. Same time tomorrow?"

"Yeah." He made no move to get down off the rock. He would stay here until he was certain Tobias was no longer in the vicinity, then sneak home and eat whatever they had in the pantry.

"I'll be here," Lily reassured him. "Always."

He grinned shyly at her. She was one of the few constants in his life. "Bye, Lil."

"See you, Sev!" Then she was gone, skipping down the path to where her bossy older sister waited.

Severus watched her go, then took out the pretzels and chocolate and soda and began to eat them. He wished he'd remembered them earlier, so he could have shared them with Lily. Still, they made a good dinner, though he knew his mother would have frowned at him eating so much sweets. He resumed reading the potions book, trying to absorb as much as possible before he returned the book to its place on the shelf that night.

There were many things about his life he wished he could change, but one thing he didn't, and that was his friendship with Lily. She was always there for him, and he was very grateful for that. And he always would be.

* * * * * *

"I spent much of my childhood ducking and hiding from my drunken father, who never managed to crawl out of the bottle he fell into," Severus told his son quietly. "He made my childhood hell, but no matter how many times he hit me, he never quite managed to knock the sarcasm out of me, and I never stopped wishing that one day he would stop hating me and start loving me, the way other fathers did their sons. That wish never came true. I feared and hated that man, but I also wanted his approval. I never got it, but that didn't stop me from longing for it. Much the same way as you wanted the approval of your aunt and uncle, Harry."

"I never got it either," murmured the younger wizard.

"I know. The one thing that made my childhood bearable was my friendship with Lily. Well, that and my mother, who always loved me, no matter what. By the time we received our Hogwarts letters, Lily and I were inseparable. We swore a pact to always be friends, no matter what." Snape smiled sadly, then continued. "Little did we know, our friendship would be tested sorely during school. . .

* * * * * *

September, 1970

Hogwarts Express

"C'mon, Lily, let's sit here. It's empty," cried Sev, beckoning his best friend over to the empty compartment. Both of them were first-years, and were eager to begin their schooling at Hogwarts, where they could finally learn magic openly, without fear of being beaten (in Severus's case) or made fun of by jealous older sisters (in Lily's case).

The two quickly sat down on the comfortable leather seats and grinned happily. They could hardly believe they were finally going to Hogwarts, they way they'd dreamed for so long. Both of them were dressed in brand new black school robes, and Severus had a new pair of trousers and a green pullover for once, Eileen had managed to hide away enough money to get her son new clothes for the start of the term, though everything else had been bought secondhand. Sev didn't mind, all he cared about was finally going to school, away from his father's hand, which had been particularly heavy last night, when he'd learned that his son hadn't burned the letter the way he'd been told to, and was still going to that freak school.

Eileen had put some magical salve on the worst of the welts, so at least he could sit down without his backside hurting like blazes, and Lily wouldn't notice. His own magic had taken care of the bruises on his face, he'd always been able to heal himself a little, his mother said he got that talent from his grandfather, Gavin Prince, whom Severus had only seen a handful of times before he had died.

Severus had his old school trunk, though Eileen had charmed the nameplate with Severus's initials, STS, instead of his grandfather's GSP, which stood for Gavin Severus Prince. Severus was proud he was named for his grandfather and happy that he had the trunk, which was kind of like a family heirloom of sorts. It was a bit scuffed about the edges, but Eileen had polished the brass nameplate and rubbed some kind of cream into the green leather trim that made it shiny.

"That's a real nice trunk, Sev," remarked Lily as he slid it beneath the seat. Her own trunk was a shiny rosewood and her initials were scripted in bright gold leaf-LAE (Lily Ann Evans).

"It was my grandpa's," Severus told her, as he sat down gingerly on the seat opposite her. Most of the students were already on the train, and they could hear them walking and chattering down the aisle. "He left it to me before he passed away. He was a wizard too, like Mum and me, he was a specialist at St. Mungos, he helped heal people from spell damage there."

"Neat!" Lily said. "So you've got a doctor and a Potions Mistress in your family, Sev."

And let's not forget the drunken bum, Severus added darkly to himself, shifting slightly on the seat. Then he resolved to quit thinking about his father. He wouldn't have to worry about him until summer, a whole blessed nine months. "Right. And you've got an engineer and a librarian in yours." Henry Evans was an engineer and his wife Iris was a librarian.

"Let's not forget good old annoying Pinch-Faced Petunia," Lily giggled.

Severus snickered. "Yeah, every family needs a villain."

"What House do you want to be Sorted into, Sev?"

"Well, my mum was a Ravenclaw, so I wouldn't mind being in that House. You've got to be really smart to get in there though."

"Which you are."

"So are you, Lil."

"Not half as brilliant as you, Sev. I wouldn't mind being in Ravenclaw either. What House was your grandpa in?"

"He was in Slytherin. That's the House that's known best for its ambition, cunning, and resourcefulness."

"Not to mention its dark wizards," put in a boy's voice from the door of the compartment. "Slytherin is as dark as they come and you'd be a fool to want to be Sorted into that slimy House."

Lily and Severus jerked up to see two boys standing in the doorway of the compartment. Both of them looked to be about their age, eleven, though there the similarities ended. One of them had extremely messy brown hair and wire-rimmed glasses, and his robes were extremely good quality, embroidered with a family crest of a stag.

The other boy was equally well dressed and was quite good looking with black hair and gray eyes, he was eyeing the two of them with a look of faint disapproval.

Severus bristled, not liking either of them. "Who asked you?" he growled. "Mind your own business."

"You gonna make me, snake lover?" sneered the handsome boy. "I couldn't help but overhear what you were saying to this pretty chick here, and you've got some nerve telling her Slytherin is a good House to be in. Everyone knows that was the House You-Know-Who came out of, and all the Dark Wizards who supported him."

"So? That doesn't mean all of them were bad. My grandpa was in Slytherin, and he was no dark wizard!" Sev told him, his dark eyes flashing.

"He probably was, only you never knew it," laughed the boy with the glasses.

"Shut your face!" Severus cried, his temper igniting. "You don't know what you're talking about. My grandpa was not a dark wizard, and I'll knock your teeth out if you say he was."

"Ooo, now I'm scared!" laughed the other boy. "Sirius, d'you hear this? The little pipsqueak is threatening us. Better run along home to mummy, slimeball, before we teach you what it means to mess with a Marauder."

"A Marauder?" Lily glared at them. "What's that, like a gang? What are you, some kind of criminals? I'll bet you've got a rap sheet as long as my arm. Now get out of here and go bother someone else."

"Why, doll, that's no way to talk," drawled the messy-haired boy. "We got nothing against you, just your snake loving scummy friend here. My name's James Potter." He held out a hand. "And this here's my mate, Sirius Black. The Marauders is the name of our club. Care to join it?"

Lily gave him a look of utter disgust, ignoring his hand. "No thanks. Any club that has you as a member isn't one I want to belong to, Potter."

"What? You're turning me down and you're willing to be friends with that slimy snake instead?" James cried, pointing at Severus.

"Don't call him that!" Lily shouted, her green eyes blazing. "His name's Severus Snape and I'd rather be friends with him than you, you stuck-up snot, any day of the week."

"Severus?" snickered the other boy, Sirius. "What kind of name is that? Sounds like it ought to be Snivellus instead. Snivellus Snape the Slytherin lover!"

"Stick it up your arse, Black!" Severus snarled, clenching his fist. "Slytherin was a great wizard, and so was most every wizard ever to come out of his House."

"Oh sure they were," sneered Sirius. "Great at dark magic. Everyone knows the best House is Gryffindor, the House of the Lion. Courage will win over cunning any time."

"If that's true, then God only knows what House they'll put you in," Lily said angrily. "Because you aren't courageous, ambitious, or smart, from what I can see. And Hufflepuffs are known for their kindness, and you're both nasty buggers."

"Maybe they'll invent a House just for them," drawled Severus. "A House of Arrogant Idiots, with the peacock as their symbol."

"Shut up, Snivellus!" shouted Sirius. He took a step forward, one fist clenched.

"Make me, Black," Severus challenged, lifting his own fists. "Or are you all talk and no guts, pretty boy?"

Sirius threw a right hook at Severus's face, but the other dodged it neatly, despite not having enough room to maneuver in the compartment. He was used to that, and Black had nothing on Tobias for speed and power.

Then Severus launched a punch of his own, and his fist connected with Sirius's nose.

Shocked, the other boy stumbled backwards, banging into James, who brought up his wand and started to say a hex.

Only to drop his wand an instant later when Lily kicked him hard in the shin.

"Ow! Hey, no fair, doll!" He backed away, unwilling to hurt a girl.

"I'm not your doll, Potter! The name's Lily Evans. Get out of here! Now!"

James held up his hands. "Okay! Okay! I'm going. Don't get your knickers in a twist, Evans." He backed out of the compartment, picking up his wand on the way. "Merlin, she's got some temper. Must be that red hair." He said to Sirius, who was trying to stem the blood from his nose. "She's a looker though."

He reached out and dragged Sirius out after him.

"Right, mate, but she's hanging around with pond slime. She must be Muggleborn, doesn't know any better. Got a handkerchief, James? That bloody Snivellus made me get blood on my fifty Galleon shirt. Mum's gonna kill me," muttered Sirius. "Just wait, I'll get that little creep back if it's the last thing I do."

"You and me both, mate," grumbled James, and they headed back down the corridor, floating their trunks after them.

"Good riddance!" huffed Lily as they departed. "I hope I don't end up in the same House as them, the arrogant prats!"

"You won't," Severus assured her. "They're sure to be in Gryffindor, they're all brawn and no brains. Pureblood idiots." He sat back down. "You were brilliant though, Lil, kicking that ass Potter that way."

She laughed. "You weren't bad yourself, Sev, you taught that git Black a good lesson. Serves him right." Then she sighed. "Although this wasn't quite the way I'd intended to start the year, by making enemies instead of friends."

"They started it," Severus reminded her. "By barging in where they weren't wanted."

"I know, Sev." Lily soothed, putting a hand on his arm. "But I'd rather not have to worry about you watching your back, know what I mean?"

"I can take care of myself, Lily," said Severus stiffly. "I'm not afraid of them."

"I know you aren't. You're not afraid of much, Snape," Lily said.

Severus merely smirked quietly, for she was right. The only thing he really feared was his father. Well, that and losing Lily. But that would never happen. They had sworn a pact to be friends forever, and Lily had promised she'd always be there for him, and he'd promised the same.

Just then there came a knock at the door and a soft voice said, "Excuse me, but mind if I sit with you? I got on late and there's hardly any room left."

Both children gazed warily up at the newcomer. He was a rather skinny boy with a shock of blond hair and bright dark eyes. His robes looked worn and his skin was slightly pale looking. His trunk was rather battered as well. He held out a hand, smiling cautiously. "Hi. My name's Remus. Remus Lupin."

Severus took his hand. "Severus Snape. Come on in." He moved over to allow the other boy a seat.

"Hello. I'm Lily Evans. Pleased to meet you, Remus."

Remus shook her hand too. "You're both first years, right?" They nodded. "Me too. What House d'you want to be Sorted into?"

Severus eyed him warily. "Why? What House d'you want to be sorted into?"

Remus shrugged. "Whatever one will have me, I guess. I don't care. I'm lucky I'm going to school at all."

"Oh? Why do you say that?" asked Lily curiously.

"Cause I . . .um . . .have chronic fatigue and I missed a lot of school before," Remus said awkwardly. "So I was lucky Headmaster Dumbledore agreed to overlook my, um, condition." He blushed. "Anyway, what House d'you want to get into?"

"Ravenclaw or Slytherin," answered Severus.

"Okay. How about you, Lily?"

"Any House that the two imbeciles we met before aren't in," she answered.

"Who are you talking about?"

"Their names are James Potter and Sirius Black and they call themselves the Marauders . . ." Lily explained.

They spent the rest of the train ride talking with their new friend, Remus Lupin, who was a pureblood, but had no attitude like Potter and Black had. All of them hoped they'd be Sorted into the same House.

* * * * * *

"But that wasn't to be, unfortunately," continued Severus. "As you know, I was Sorted into Slytherin and they were Sorted into Gryffindor, along with James and Black. But Lily swore that nothing would come between us and our friendship, no matter if our Houses were rivals. She kept that promise. So did Remus. Potter and Black became my rivals, and we fought like crazy, in and out of class, and they were later joined by Peter Pettigrew, the little rat."

"Why do you call him that?"

"Because he was one, literally. His Animagus form was a rat."

"What's an Animagus?"

"A wizard or witch who can transform into a specific animal. It's a very rare gift, and not all wizards or witches can master it. The animal you become is determined largely by your inner spirit, or so Minerva always tells her students. Her Animagus form is a cat, as I'm sure you've guessed. The Marauders were all unregistered Animagi. James was a stag, Black was a dog, and not a purebred either, he was a large black mutt, and Pettigrew was a rat. Remus was, as you know, a werewolf." Severus explained.

"When did Remus become a Marauder? I thought you said he was your friend."

"He is. He didn't join Potter's little club until the end of third year, which was when they discovered that he was a werewolf. He never gave me all the details on how that occurred, but those three were always poking their noses where they didn't belong, minding everyone's business. They hated mysteries and secrets, and Remus disappearing every month right around the full moon was too tantalizing for them to ignore." Severus scowled. "When they found out Remus's secret, he made them promise they'd never tell anyone, for werewolves were persona non grata in our society, feared and hated. James, in turn, made Remus a Marauder, and dragged him along on their escapades.

"Remus told me later that he went along with them for the most part so he could make sure they didn't get too carried away with their little jokes, some of which were harmless, but others were downright cruel and obnoxious. Sometimes it worked and other times it didn't. Black, especially, was a vicious prankster if you got on his bad side, and I did. He and Potter and Pettigrew, who was a coward through and through, don't ask me how he ever ended up in Gryffindor, ambushed me routinely and hexed me three on one."

Harry looked surprised. "They sound sort of like my cousin Dudley and his gang. Dudley used to stalk me when we were in school and out of it, him and his four friends, waiting until they could beat me up or whatever. They called it Harry Hunting," his son recalled with a grimace. "Only they didn't have magic, so it probably wasn't as bad as what you went through."

His father shook his head. "Magical or not, bullies are always trouble. How many times did they beat you up before you managed to learn to avoid them, son?"

Harry winced. "Too many times. But I learned a lot from them about hiding and escaping. I was smaller than they were, and I could go places they couldn't, like on the roof and up tall trees and inside rubbish bins and cabinets. Eventually I got so good at disappearing, I think my magic helped me sometimes, that they got tired of hunting me and left me alone. They haven't tried to hurt me since I started Hogwarts. After Hagrid gave Dudders a pig tail, he practically wets himself if I point at him and say some made up gibberish," chuckled Harry, his green eyes sparkling. "He's scared to death I'll magic him into a pig or something for real, the big idiot! And so are my aunt and uncle." Then he looked imploringly at his father. "Tell me more about what happened to you and Mum at school, please? It's better than a novel."

"I'd hope so. It's reality," Severus said with a snort. "By the end of first year, I was at daggers drawn with Potter, Black, and Pettigrew, who was their toady, he followed them about and did whatever they said. Pathetic lump!" Snape sneered. "But Lily, Remus, and I continued to see each other outside of school, it turned out that Remus lived quite near us and he used to fly his broom over and meet us in the park on weekends. Neither of us knew he was a werewolf, however, we accepted his explanation of chronic fatigue and didn't bother to question him further.

"It wasn't until the end of third year that I began to suspect differently, but when I told Lily, she said to let it be, that Remus would tell us if my suspicions were correct on his own and if not, I didn't have the right to pry. She was right, and so I waited for Remus to tell me himself. I had plenty of secrets of my own, the last thing I wanted was to try and snoop about looking for secrets from my best friend.

"I had enough of my own problems, both at school, thanks to Potter and Black and some members of my own House, who didn't approve of my friendship with Lily and Remus, and at home. My parents were arguing more than ever, and my bastard father was starting to hit my mother now as well as me. I tried to stop him a few times, but without magic I was no match for him, he outweighed me by a good stone or so and he was stronger than I was too. I always ended up worst in those little fights. It got so bad that I started spending some weekends over Remus's house or Lily's even."

"Did they know?"

"Yes, but I never came right out and told them. But Lily figured it out long before, she'd seen me once before I'd had a chance to heal myself of the bruises he left on my face and arms, and she knew he was a drunk who lost his job and spent all his time down at the pub, gambling and drinking while my mother worked her fingers off and I went to school. There were plenty of times I couldn't sit down right either, and I used to invent excuses so she wouldn't suspect. Not that it worked. She wasn't stupid and neither was Remus. It wasn't that hard to put two and two together and get four. Lily used to say I ought to call the police and have him arrested and believe me, that was a dream of mine."

Snape shifted slightly on the bed, relaxing his legs. "But I never did, because a part of me knew it'd be worse for my mum and me if I involved authorities. They couldn't know about magic and that was one of the main reasons my father beat me. Then too, I was ashamed of what he did and what I let him do, and I didn't want to admit that to an adult. I still had my pride, it was the only thing I owned that wasn't in tatters. So I kept my mouth shut, figuring that was best, after all I'd been enduring Tobias for years and I was still alive. I was miserable, but I was breathing.

"Thank Merlin and God for Lily and Remus, because they were there for me when I needed them most, especially Lily. She always seemed to know when I needed her, and she was always waiting for me at my house or the park. If I believed in all that Divination rubbish Trelawney's always spouting, I'd have said she was a Seer. Either that or she knew me better than I knew myself."

Harry said softly, "In the letter she wrote to me, she said you were her, uh, soulmate."

Severus smiled sadly. "And so I was. That was why it hurt so much when she was killed. The Old Meddler didn't lie when he said her death nearly destroyed me. I was depressed and close to suicidal for weeks, but Remus, Albus, and Poppy pulled me out of it. Poppy knew everything about my terrible childhood, I confessed all to her when I was made her apprentice Healer in fifth year."

"Sounds like you were really busy your fifth year," Harry remarked.

"Merlin's starry hat, was I ever! I had OWL's to study for, that's advanced level wizard tests, the Marauders to avoid, and secret meetings with Lily to arrange after classes. At that time, the sentiment against Muggleborns was running high due to Voldemort's influence, and several pureblood children, future Death Eaters, were targeting them. Most of them were in my House and I spied on them so I could protect Lily from the worst of them. I wasn't well liked in my House because I refused to treat Lily like dirt and was friends with Remus too. I got threats nearly every week from certain Housemates and that's when your mum and I started meeting in secret. It was while I was waiting for her to meet me down by the lake that I stumbled upon the Marauders sneaking away off the grounds, on the night of the full moon. I couldn't resist the opportunity to get them in trouble, I was a prefect then, and so I followed them. . . ."

April 1975

The Shrieking Shack, Hogsmeade

Now what on earth are those three up to? Severus wondered as he caught sight of James, Sirius, and Peter slipping off through the trees somewhere. Up to no good, as usual, he thought with a sneer. He was waiting for Lily beside the beautiful oak tree that overhung the lake. She had said it was the prettiest tree on the grounds and Severus had to agree with her. It was certainly better than the monstrosity Professor Sprout had planted four years ago called the Whomping Willow by the students. Severus could never figure out why his Herbology professor had chosen to plant such a dangerous tree on the grounds, near hundreds of students who were prone to accidents and mischief. It was asking for trouble.

But the willow remained and no one would answer his questions about it, not even Dumbledore. He told Sev that it served a special purpose and that was all he needed to know. That answer wasn't enough to satisfy Snape's insatiable curiosity and thirst for knowledge, so he did research on the Willow, and discovered this particular species made an excellent guardian for something. Now the only question he had was what exactly was it guarding?

Whatever it was must be very important, to risk a student getting fatally injured by one of the tree's club like branches. When it grew large enough to be dangerous, which was at the beginning of Sev's second year, Dumbledore warned everyone to stay away from it. Everyone did, mostly, except a few of the braver and stupider Gryffindors, who dared each other to get close enough to the tree to make it swat at them and then see who could dodge the tree's swipes the longest.

Typical idiotic Gryffindor behavior, the Slytherin prefect thought scornfully.

Right then, the Willow didn't concern him though, seeing Lily did, or had until he'd glimpsed the Troublemaking Trio running off through the grounds, no doubt plotting some new mischief guaranteed to set the school by its collective ear once more.

Mischief that they never seemed to get in trouble for, most times. Oh, they were in and out of detention for late homework assignments or being out after curfew or mouthing off to professors, but most of their pranks on students went unpunished. It was well known that Dumbledore favored James Potter and Black, else why would he put up with their misbehavior?

That fact irritated Severus to no end. He was careful to behave most times, and he never lost House points over academics, and he'd only earned himself detention a handful of times, and all of those times were because he'd been fighting with the Marauders. He'd even made prefect this year, a thing which made his mother very proud, and was the best thing about going back to school besides being with Lily. He'd thought perhaps this year the Headmaster would acknowledge that he was as good as Golden Boy Potter or that scoundrel Black, but it hadn't happened yet.

Dumbledore had eyes only for his House of Lions, and he overlooked the bright serpent right in front of his feet. This saddened Sev, because he longed for the older wizard's approval, he respected the man like he would have his own father. Yet, no matter what he did, it seemed Potter and his friends always overshadowed him. Snape was a prefect, but Potter was Gryffindor Seeker, and the glamour boy of the hour with all the teenage girls in his year, save for Lily. Sev received the highest grades in his class in Potions, but it was James who was given special permission to have an extra weekend at Hogsmeade by the Headmaster for his performance in Defense against the Dark Arts, he'd bested their professor, Birchwood, in a duel.

Big fat deal, Sev thought scathingly. He lasted five minutes in a staged setting, not a real fight. And why was that better than getting consistent marks in a very tough subject? the boy wondered resentfully. Potions was most wizards' nightmare, the class they sweated and wept over. Only a handful ever had the precision, instinct, and perseverance to succeed in that subject, much less do so brilliantly. Severus was one of the few who actually enjoyed brewing and had an instinctive knack for it. Lily also had the spark, and when they worked together, no potion was beyond them.

Yet the Headmaster preferred to acknowledge James' flashy achievement and Severus was shoved aside and forgotten again. You know why that is, Snape. It's because you're a Slytherin, and the only thing anybody will acknowledge about the House of Serpents is the taint of dark magic. No matter what else you accomplish, that above all is what people will see. The shadow, not the silver lining.

But maybe someday, the Headmaster would notice him, and all his hard work would pay off. Perhaps tonight. Severus eyed the vanishing Gryffindors and made a swift decision. He had a funny feeling whatever the Marauders were doing was expressly forbidden and if he could gather evidence of their wrongdoing, the Headmaster would have to acknowledge the fact that his golden boys deserved to be punished, and for once they would suffer the consequences of their actions.

He always makes excuses for them and they always get off, unlike the rest of us. The rules don't exist for them. It's unfair, and just once I want them to get what's coming to them, the bloody prats! Severus quickly scrawled a note on the tree for Lily with his wand, in illuminated ink, telling her he was sorry, but he couldn't meet her tonight, and he'd explain later, then he stealthily followed the three down the path that led to Hogsmeade.

At first, he was careful to stay well back from the three, and move extra quietly. That was nothing new, he'd tiptoed about his house when his father was drunk so much as a child that moving like a shadow was second nature to him. It was one of the ways he survived Tobias's temper.

The fools never even noticed they were being trailed. At first Sev thought they were going into the village to buy Zonko's products, for that would be like them, but they passed the joke shop and Honeydukes without anything other than a few wistful looks. Instead they headed up towards the dilapidated eyesore called the Shrieking Shack by the students.

The Shrieking Shack was rumored to be haunted, and if you were brave enough, you could come there at night and listen to the moans and screams of the dead wizards that had been murdered there.

Or so said the rumors.

Severus didn't believe they were anything else. He knew real monsters, he didn't need to invent ghostly ones to frighten himself with. I don't believe this. They've dragged me out here on a stupid lark. Probably it was Black's idea, see who can spend ten minutes inside the Shack at night and not go mad or something. God, what are they, ten?

He inched closer to where the three were standing, on the dirt track just before the entrance to the shack. Pettigrew was whining, as usual.

"Do you think we ought to be here tonight? You know it's always worse the first night of the full moon." The ferret-like boy was twisting his fingers from nervousness.

"It's better if we're here, you know that, Wormtail," said James. "It calms him down."

"Not from what I can see, Prongs," whimpered Peter.

"Quit your whinging, Peter," ordered Sirius. "You're getting on my nerves worse than Snivellus." He glanced up at a broken shutter, which was swinging back and forth slightly in the sudden breeze. "How long d'you reckon it'll take this time, James?"

James shrugged, his athletic build filling out his robes nicely. "Don't know, mate. Could be a few minutes, or it could take an hour like last time. You know it's different every time."

Severus's curiosity was killing him. He could not resist the lure of the unknown, and so he stepped from the shadows. He had enough on them just being off school grounds after dark to get them detention anyhow.

"What's different every time, Potter? The way you break rules?" Sev queried silkily. "You break a new one every day, don't you?"

James and Sirius spun around, shooting the lanky Slytherin deadly glares, and Pettigrew shrank back behind them like the cringing coward he was.

"Well, look who it is!" Sirius cried. "Snivellus! And here I was getting bored. What brings you out of the dungeon, greaseball? Couldn't take the fumes anymore? Pickled your brains yet?"

"You wish. Merlin knows what you've done to yours, Black," retorted Severus. "If you ever had them to begin with, which I highly doubt. That's why you hang around Potter, so you can borrow his."

"Why are you sneaking about here, Snivellus?" demanded James, coming to stand before the other boy, his wand in hand. "Why don't you go back to your cauldron, dungeon crawler, and brew up a love potion?"

"For who?" sneered Snape. "You, Potter?"

James laughed. "I don't have trouble getting girls, Snapey. Want to know why?"

"No, you arrogant ass."

"Because I wash my hair, greaseball!" James declared and Peter snickered and Sirius roared with laughter.

Severus stiffened, for he was sensitive about his hair, which had suddenly become oily this past year, it was an onset of puberty and also a side-effect of brewing so much. "Maybe so, but when's the last time you combed it, Potter? When you were two and you had Mummy do it? Too bad she's not here now."

James rolled his eyes. "Chicks dig my hair, Snivellus. They like to run their hands through it."

"Yeah, and if they tried to do that with yours, Snape, they'd end up with grease all over their hands," taunted Sirius.

"At least my hair covers my brain, Black. Unlike yours, which is just a curtain to hide your hollow head. You might have a pretty face, but there's no one home upstairs."

"You calling me stupid, Snape?" growled Sirius, stepping forward, wand out.

"Why no," drawled Sev, his wand appearing in his own hand in an eyeblink. "You're doing a fine job of insulting yourself, you don't need my help. Unless you need a synonym for stupid. How about imbecilic? Or moronic?"

"Shut your face, Snivellus!" roared Black, losing his temper. "Before I-"

"Sirius!" James shouted, grabbing his friend by the arm. "Quit going off half-cocked, you dope! He's trying to bait you, and you're letting him."

Sirius struggled in the larger boy's grip like a maddened animal. "Let me go, Prongs! I'm gonna teach that slimy git a good lesson this time."

"Really? Hexing a prefect is grounds for detention, Black," Severus reminded them silkily. "But do try, I'd love to take away more points from Gryffindor and see you end in last place for the House Cup."

"The only reason you're a prefect is because you kissed Slughorn's arse, Snivellus!" yelled Sirius. "That's what Slytherins do best, after all. Lick the arses of anyone in power, especially You-Know-Who. Well, that and poking their abnormally large noses where they don't belong." He was still trying to free himself from James' grip.

Severus felt his temper go from a simmer to a boil, but he controlled the impulse to hex the supercilious Black. Now was not the time to let his temper get the better of his head. "I wouldn't need to poke my nose anywhere, Blackie, if you obeyed rules like normal people. But oh, I forgot, you're better than everyone else, Sirius Orion Black, of the most Ancient and Noble House of Black," mocked Severus. "Rules aren't for the likes of you, are they, milord?" He bowed sneeringly to the other boy, who looked ready to start foaming at the mouth. Sirius hated to be reminded of his ancient lineage, most of his ancestors had been Sorted into Slytherin. "Now what are you hiding in there?"

"None of your business, Snape!" spoke up Peter, quivering a little when Sev fixed him with a nasty look, learned from Tobias. "Why don't you run back to your cauldron, you old bat?"

Before Severus could respond to that latest taunt, there came an unearthly scream from the shack.

All of the teens jumped about a foot. Pettigrew wrapped his arms about himself and shook like a jello mold. Sweat trickled down his forehead and dripped off his pointy nose. "It's started!" he yelped, then was promptly cuffed by James.

"Shut it, Wormtail!"

Severus narrowed his eyes. "What's started? The latest prank you've concocted?" he clucked his tongue at them. "Tsk. Tsk. You really are a bunch of jackasses, aren't you? This will make your second detention in three days. Your lady mother won't be happy with you, Lord Blackie. She might even send you another Howler, so the entire school can learn just how angry she is with her disgraceful son. Let's see, what did she threaten to do to you last time if you got another detention?" Severus pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I think she said she was going to wallop you with a birch rod, naughty boy!"

Sirius went red and tried to wrench his wand from James's grasp.

"Stop it, Padfoot! You can't afford to hex him now, you'll need your magic for other things soon!" panted James, pinning his friend's arms behind his back.

"Like protecting his backside from Mum's switch," Severus taunted, his dark eyes glittering.

Just then there came another agonized howl, followed by snarling and growling.

All the hairs on the back of Sev's neck bristled. The howling rose, sobbing and whimpering into a register almost too high to be heard by human ears. Pettigrew was sniveling and shaking, curled into a ball behind James and Sirius.

"What in the name of all that's holy is that?" cried Severus, cold chills racing down his backbone.

The shack shook and several loud bangs and thumps were heard, as if something was jumping or throwing itself about inside. More growling and screaming followed. It was terribly eerie, for the screams sounded almost. . . human, Severus realized in horror. The screams of a human in mortal agony, too great to be endured.

Abruptly the human shriek cut off and changed abruptly to a wolf's long low howl.

"That's the reason we're here, Snivellus," gasped Black. He pointed towards the shack. "To see the monster that haunts the place."

"Monster?" Severus snorted. "Oh please! Like I'm going to fall for that. It's probably just a scary noise charm or something. No real monster could stay holed up in the shack. What would it eat?"

"Maybe it eats nosy prefects, eh, Snivellus?" spat Sirius. "Why don't you go inside and find out?"

"Sirius, you bloody fool!" snapped James. "What the hell's wrong with you? He can't do that!"

"Why not?" Sirius gave his rival a challenging glare. "How about it, Snapey? You brave enough to go inside the Shack and face the monster? Or are you like the rest of your snakes, gutless cringing cowards?"

"Don't call me coward, Black!" snarled Severus.

"I will unless you open the door and take a look at what's in there," dared Sirius.

"Nothing's in there," Severus said. "This is another of your dumb jokes, and I'm not falling for it. I go in there and find nothing and then you lock the door on me and run away. That's the plan, isn't it, Black? Pretty pitiful."

There came a huge thump from inside the shack and then an odd scrabbling sound, as of claws across wood. Severus shivered, for the scratching was accompanied by a frenzied whining and soft snarling, as of a beast trapped and searching for a way to get free.

"Figured you'd say that, Snivellus. That's why the Hat put you in Slytherin instead of Gryffindor. Because only the brave go into our House, and the sneaky sly cowards get put in Slytherin, like my brother and you, Slimeball."

"Slytherins aren't cowards!" Severus shouted, clenching his fists.

"Prove it then! Open the door and take a look at the monster!"

"Do you think I'm dumb, Black?"

"Nope. But you surely are a coward," sneered Sirius. Then he made a noise like chicken and flapped his arms, for James had released him when he'd pocketed his wand.

That was too much for Severus's pride. He spun about and started towards the shack, ignoring the little voice in the back of his head that was screaming at him to stop, that he was being played for a sucker.

"Sirius, you stupid ass!" James cried, aghast. "He'll get killed! Or bitten!"

"So? Who cares? It's Snivellus, Prongs. The world will be better off without his greasy-haired presence, eh?"

But James was not amused, for once. He yelled after Snape's retreating back. "Stop, Snape! You were right! Now turn around and come back."

Severus ignored him. "Nice try, Potter. But I'm going to see what all the fuss is about."

He continued walking towards the door, his wand out.

James blanched and ran after him. "Don't!"

Severus hesitated for an instant. He could almost swear that was real concern in Potter's voice. Then he shook his head. Right. Potter concerned over you? When hell freezes over.

The shack was trembling as something flung itself at the door, which shuddered under the impact of whatever thing was inside. This time another howl rang out, long and impatient, dark with fury.

Severus felt his blood turn to ice in his veins. He wanted desperately to run away, for all of his instincts were screaming at him that whatever was behind the door was bound for a reason, and he shouldn't release it. Whatever it was. But then he recalled Black's sneering face and his remarks that only cowards got Sorted into Slytherin. He couldn't let that go.

If there was one thing Severus Snape wasn't, it was a bloody coward.

And he be damned if he'd let Sirius bloody Black think he was.

He set his hand on the old fashioned lock and hissed an unlocking charm.

"Snape! No!"

James scrambled up behind the other boy and tried to grab Snape's sleeve, but Severus shook him off angrily.

"Get off, Potter! Nobody calls me coward!"

"Severus, please! Don't open the door! You don't understand."

"You're right. I don't. But I will," insisted Severus stubbornly. He put his hand about the doorknob and started to turn it.

Only to have it wrenched from his hand and the door blown half off of its hinges by a terrible blow.

The heavy wooden door smashed into Severus's face, and he felt his nose crack from the force of the blow.

He cried out, but his yelp of pain was drowned in the awful bloodcurdling howl that emerged from the throat of the beast silhouetted in the doorway.

Severus was knocked back into James, who fell onto the ground too. "Run!" cried the Gryffindor Seeker, scrambling to his feet.

But Severus found himself unable to move, held immobile by the aura of dread and hunger the werewolf was emitting. He gazed at the gray beast's eyes, which were strangely human in the wolfish face. And strangely familiar.

The werewolf stared directly into his eyes. Then it threw back its head and howled, jerking on the manacle that kept it bolted to the wall of the shack. Drool dripped from its maw to splatter on the ground inches from Severus's sneakers.

James was tugging on his arm. "C'mon, Snape! Move your bloody arse, before he gets loose! He doesn't know you now, all he sees is food."

And suddenly Severus knew why those eyes, those bright golden-brown eyes, looked so dreadfully familiar.

"Moony? Is that you?"

I was right! I knew there was something odd about the way Remus used to disappear all the time around the full moon. He wasn't having an attack of fatigue, he was transforming into a werewolf! shouted the logical part of Snape's mind in triumph.

"He doesn't recognize you, Snape! He's all wolf now, not a human!" James screamed. "Get up, damn you!"

Severus managed to stumble upright, and the werewolf lunged at him, slavering and growling, his human eyes blazing with hatred and the lust to kill.

"Remus!" Severus called. "It's Sev! Remember me? Your best friend?"

The werewolf blinked, and paused for one instant, trembling as if in the grip of some terrible fever. Its claws grasped the air and it panted, fangs gleaming in the moonlight. For one instant Severus saw recognition flicker in the glowing eyes, and Remus Lupin gazed out at them.

The next instant it vanished and only the wolfin monster remained.

And the werewolf desired but one thing.

Food.

Its claw lashed out, tearing Severus's wrist, drawing blood. The beast's jaws were inches from Severus's throat, and the manacle slowly began to give way under the werewolf's frenzied pulling.

"Sirius!" James yelled, dragging Severus backwards by the back of his collar. "Change! Quickly!"

Severus glanced away from the beast that had once been his friend and saw Black's form blurring into a large dog, shaggy and muscular. "Black's an Animagus?" he gasped.

"We all are," James said, as Padfoot bounded towards the werewolf, barking and wagging his tail.

Severus remained with his mouth open. "What's he doing, trying to get it to play with him? Bloody imbecile! It's hungry."

"I know, but Sirius can calm him down somewhat in his dog shape." James released the back of Snape's collar abruptly and Severus nearly fell.

But he twisted like a cat and managed to keep his feet. "We need to shut that door."

"I know. But we can't till Moony's out of the doorway," James reminded.

"And just how do you plan on getting him back inside, Potter? Ask him nicely to step into the parlor for a cup of tea and crumpets?" Severus's voice shook, much to his chagrin.

James shook his head and grinned slightly. "Ah. Not really."

Then he transformed into a large white stag, with a sixteen point rack, majestic and commanding.

Clutching his bleeding wrist, which began to sting almost as badly as his nose, Severus watched as Prongs charged back towards the werewolf, head lowered.

The werewolf bristled and snapped at the stag, but it couldn't free itself and it was not stupid enough to risk impaling itself on the antlers.

The stag tossed his head, driving the werewolf back a step.

Sirius barked encouragingly and the stag nudged the werewolf back inside the shack, foot by foot. Once the werewolf was out of the doorway, Prongs withdrew and hit the door with enough force to close it.

Then the stag became James once more and he pointed his wand at the door and muttered a locking charm. The door shimmered and sealed itself.

The ravenous beast was caged once more.

It howled in despair and Severus trembled, breaking out in a cold sweat as he realized just how close he'd come to dying that night. If Potter had not grabbed him and dragged him away . . .he would have been bitten or eaten by his best friend.

Sev sat down abruptly, trying to still the shaking in his knees.

"Is it over?" whined Pettigrew, still curled on the ground in a ball.

None of them answered him, they were too busy trying to regain their composure.

Sirius transformed back and clapped James on the shoulder. "That was bloody brilliant, mate, the way you charged Moony and-oww!"

James shook his hand, his knuckles throbbed from his punch.

Sirius put a hand to his jaw, glaring at his friend in shock. "The hell was that for, James?" he mumbled, feeling his teeth.

"What was it for?" James yelled. "Padfoot, you blasted moron, you nearly got Severus killed! D'you even know what almost happened tonight, dung for brains?"

Sirius looked faintly ashamed. "Aw, hell, Prongs, I didn't mean for him to really get hurt, just scared witless is all."

Severus had managed to conceal his shaking and he stood up and advanced on Sirius. "You are possibly the stupidest, most screwed up, retarded wizard I've ever met, Black! Is everything a bloody joke to you? Do you know what would have happened if Remus had bitten me?"

"Sure. You'd have grown fur, Snape."

Severus snarled and suddenly Sirius found himself sitting on the ground, nursing both a bloody nose and a sore jaw. Before he could get to his feet, both James and Snape were standing over him, calling him every dirty word in their vocabularies.

Severus, in particular, had a most impressive lexicon of swear words, learned from his father, who shouted all of them at his son at one time or another when he was hung over.

James was quite impressed, especially because Severus was saying all of them in such a silky snarky tone, edged with utter fury. At last he ran out of invectives and spun on James and snapped, "Get the prick out of my sight, Potter, before I forget myself and do something unforgivable."

"You all right?"

"Fine! Now leave! And I'm deducting a hundred points for this."

"What? You bloody git!" Sirius bellowed, climbing to his feet. "You can't do that! James saved your miserable life and you're gonna take points, you scummy Slytherin bastard?"

"SIRIUS!" James bellowed. "He almost died, and you're worried about points? Merlin's bloody arse! We're probably facing expulsion right now thanks to your little joke!" he grabbed a handful of Black's robes and hauled him down the path.

Wormtail scrambled up and followed.

Severus waited until they were gone before he buried his face in his hands and allowed himself to cry, shivering wretchedly, for never had he been as close to death as he had been at that moment. And the worst part was that it had been Remus who would have killed him, all unknowing.

Remus, his best friend.

He would have torn out my throat in two seconds. I was frozen. If Potter hadn't been there to grab me . . .

And Potter, his archenemy, had saved him.

Regaining control over himself, Severus wiped his face and started to walk back the way he'd come. He had quite a tale to tell the Headmaster tomorrow. But right now all he wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep for a week. His nose throbbed unmercifully and so did the cut on his wrist. He knew he should let Poppy examine him before going back to his dormitory.

Barely aware of what he was doing, Severus stumbled back down the path and past the lake.

Suddenly, a hand reached out and clutched his shoulder.

He nearly screamed, until he recognized Lily.

"Lily! Good God!"

"Did I scare you, Sev?" she asked impishly, smiling up at him.

He looked away, and it was then she saw that his nose was crooked and his face was covered in blood. "Merlin, Sev! What happened to you? Did you get into a fight? Was it Potter and Black again?"

"No. It was Remus."

"Remus? He broke your nose?"

"By accident. The door slammed into my face when he broke it down," Severus explained.

"What? Sev, are you okay?"

"No."

She put her arm about him and led him over to their favorite spot and made him sit down. Then she sat next to him, dipped a handkerchief in the lake and began cleaning his face.

Gentle as she was, it still hurt, but he never moved, enduring the pain stoically. "That's going to need a Bone Knit charm."

He nodded.

"Hold still," she ordered, pointing her wand at his face. She spoke the charm and a cool white light touched Severus's nose.

He gritted his teeth, for the charm did not dull pain, but it was over in moments.

"Sorry," she murmured, cupping his face in her hands.

"S'okay," he murmured.

"You hurt anywhere else?"

"My wrist. Remus scratched it when he went for me."

Lily stared at him in shock. "This is the same Remus Lupin you're talking about, Sev? Our best friend, shy, quiet, even-tempered?"

She examined his wrist. Then she spoke a quick disinfecting charm and healed the scratch with another minor healing spell.

That done, she leaned back into Severus's arms and said, "Tell me what happened, please. Did you two get into an argument?"

Sev snorted. "Sort of. I followed Potter, Black, and Pettigrew tonight. They were going into Hogsmeade, to the Shrieking Shack."

"To see the murdered ghosts?"

"No. To watch over Remus. He's a werewolf, Lily. And he almost killed me tonight. . . " his voice caught on a sob.

"My God, Sev!" Lily whispered, then she turned around and hugged him hard.

He hugged her back and for a moment they remained so, drawing comfort from each other's embrace.

Then Lily said, "Sev, we've got to help him."

"I know, but how? There's no cure for lycanthropy."

She was silent for a long moment. "What if we tried to invent one?"

He frowned. "It's possible, I suppose. If the two of us worked together, maybe we could come up with a potion."

* * * * * *

"So that's exactly what we did," Severus concluded. "After I resolved things with the Headmaster the next morning. He called me into his office first thing in the morning, to ask me why I'd deducted such a huge amount of points from Gryffindor. When I told him what had occurred, he acted concerned and assured me that he'd see to Black, Pettigrew, and Potter's punishment himself. When I asked him about Remus, he told me to forget what I'd seen." Severus snorted. "As if I ever could! Sometimes I still dream of it, those fangs and claws, and that howl . . ." A shudder went through him.

Harry saw and put his arm about the older man, trying to offer him the same comfort as Severus had given him. "What happened to James and Sirius?"

"Nothing like what should have happened to them," Snape growled. "Black should've been expelled and Potter put on probation for they knew Remus was a werewolf and what the penalty was for him biting someone before Black challenged me to go into the Shack. They'd known for years, they'd become Animagi so they could accompany Remus in his were form while he hunted."

"Accompany him? You mean they let him out of the Shack?"

"Yes. After a few hours, the wolf was subdued enough to be released and they transformed into their animal forms and followed him when he hunted in the Forbidden Forest. Once he'd fed, Remus was safer to be around, and they spent the night with him, making sure he got back to the Shack before dawn. That's why the Willow was planted, incidentally. To prevent Remus from escaping from the Shack and onto the grounds, for there was a secret tunnel to and from the shack which Remus used to come and go unobserved."

"What did Dumbledore say when he found out?"

"I don't know, I wasn't there, but all I did know was that they got detention with Minerva for a week and that was all, plus my hundred point deduction."

"Why didn't you take more points?"

"A prefect is only allowed a maximum of a hundred points for any misdeed. Albus could have taken more, but he didn't, of course. Nor did he make them apologize to me, the way he should have. I wasn't surprised, though Lily was livid. I found out later that she'd had her own talk with both of them, and ended up punching both of them in the face."

Harry grinned at his father. "Wow. She had some temper, huh?"

"Only for certain things. I was one of them. When we finally saw Remus again, we told him about what happened and he felt awful. Said he wasn't fit to be around normal people. But I forgave him and so did Lily. Then we went to work on the Wolfsbane Potion and by the time we were sixth years, we had a prototype ready for him. By the time we graduated, we had the real thing, and he takes it still."

"Do you make it for him?"

"Yes. It's a master level potion and I make batches of it every month for him to drink. It' s the closest anybody has ever come to a cure for lycanthropy." Severus looked closely at Harry. "Now then, son, you've heard most of my own experiences at school and home, and I'm sure you realize that there were plenty of times that I was scared and hurt. That being so, would you care to share your nightmare with me?"

Reluctantly, Harry nodded. "Okay, Dad," he agreed, using the appellation voluntarily for the first time. Then he told his father everything he could remember about his captivity and the spell they used to shatter his magic.

It was hard at first, recalling the dreadful memories, but Sev was patient, allowing Harry to proceed at his own pace, and at last the awful tale of torture and dark curses was told in full, and Severus held his son while he wept.

"I hate remembering, Dad!" Harry sobbed, unable to help himself.

"I know, Harry," his father whispered, hugging him. "But only by confronting your fears will you ever be free of them. I know it's hard and it hurts like hell, but you'll thank me later on, when you can sleep without nightmares or flashbacks."

"I always have nightmares," sniffled his son.

"One day you won't. I promise you that, Harry," said the Potions Master. "This is the first step, confronting what scares you. Then the next step is acknowledging that what you fear can't hurt you. Once you've done that the nightmares will stop. But until then, you have me."

Harry sighed and relaxed into his dad's arms, listening to Snape's heartbeat, letting it soothe him into sleep, the way he used to do long ago, when he was two.

Severus continued to rock and hold his son, humming softly, until he was sure Harry would remain asleep, then he tucked the sleeping child into bed and slipped away to his own well-deserved rest.

Gradually, Harry settled into a comfortable routine in the household, doing chores at mealtimes and the rest of his summer homework right after breakfast. Severus had no set study time for him, though he did insist the boy work for two to three hours on his assignments a day, until he'd finished them. Harry disliked being made to study, he'd become used to letting assignments slide and relying on Hermione to help him catch up, or copying down her notes in most classes, since she took better ones than he did.

But Severus didn't tolerate laziness when it came to schoolwork, and he'd already warned his son once that he was expected to study without being told, or else Severus would assign him a study period and stand over him making sure he completed his assignments.

Harry decided there could be nothing worse than being watched like a hawk while studying, especially by Severus, and he made sure to set aside at least an hour or so for homework. No way in hell did he want Severus to return to his old sarcastic snarky attitude, which he surely would if Harry gave him a hard time with doing schoolwork. He wondered if other kids with teachers for parents had the same problems? Or was this persnickety perfectionism just a Snape thing?

Then again, perhaps he'd just developed poor study habits from never being allowed to outperform Dudley in school, if he got higher marks than his cousin, he was punished by Vernon and accused of trying to show up their perfect son. And having Ron as a friend who procrastinated until the eleventh hour over schoolwork didn't help matters either.

Either way, Harry was doomed to learn good study habits, or else face the wrath of his professor father, which was not a thing the wise child provoked.

In addition to his daily chores and studies, Harry also assisted Severus in brewing several potions, and to his surprise he found he actually enjoyed spending time with his father doing so. He was not quite the dunderhead Severus had always assumed when it came to measuring and reading a recipe, most of his trouble had come from being distracted during class and from Malfoy sabotaging his work.

That was no longer the case, and Harry and Severus found they could work together harmoniously, most of the time. Of course, there were times when Harry would be caught daydreaming and do something wrong and Severus would snap at him, but mostly those times were pleasant for both of them. Harry came to appreciate his father's precise methods, the older man was so deft with his measurements and cuts that Harry despaired of ever equaling him in that regard. Not that he wanted to be a Potions Master, just decent with potions, so his father would be proud of him.

Harry smiled to himself just picturing Ron's face if he ever heard Harry say he wished to make Snape proud of him. It would be priceless. But odd as that seemed, Harry admitted that he did want his father's approval, it was not something he'd ever had before, and he craved it. Severus was still a rather strict teacher, but he did give praise when Harry had earned it, and was much fairer than he'd ever been at Hogwarts.

Even so, he was quick to point out mistakes, and if Harry repeated them, he felt the sharp edge of Snape's tongue. But never did the man raise a hand to him, or touch him with anything but a firm pat on the shoulder. He kept the promise he'd made to Harry that day when he'd found his son weeping over his Nimbus, and for that Harry was very grateful indeed.

For his part, Severus tried very hard to keep his sarcastic comments and critical attitude toned down. Acting that way with his son had become almost automatic when he taught Potions at Hogwarts, it had to be because of his cover as a spy and also because back then he still harbored resentment towards James's offspring. Now the resentment was gone and so was his need to maintain the snarky persona, so Severus could allow his other side to emerge a little, and not be so harsh with his pupil. A certain amount of sternness was needed, and Severus was a perfectionist and demanded his son work up to his full potential, but all in all he was not picking on the boy for everything, and this made Harry succeed in potion making better than he ever had before.

Pleased with his son's newfound aptitude, Severus rewarded him with permission to fly his Nimbus, provided he activated a Don't See Me charm first, so Muggles would not spot him. Harry was delighted, he'd been going a bit stir crazy, and could often be found flying after completing his studies.

Severus also allowed him to send letters to Ron and Hermione, telling them what had happened, but asked in return that they post their replies to Poppy at the Hogwarts Infirmary, coded with a snitch stamp, so she could then forward them to Harry. Severus was taking no chances of a letter from Harry's friends being intercepted by Dumbledore, and he knew the Headmaster would never stoop to opening the medi-witch's mail.

Harry had just finished posting two very lengthy parchments to both his friends and sent them off with Hedwig that afternoon. He hoped he would get a reply back soon, he was curious as to how they would react to his new circumstances and catch up on the latest news from Britain.

In the meantime, he was eating lunch by himself in the kitchen, as Aurelia had gone out to pick up her little granddaughter, Mia, and bring her over to spend the week, since Melody was going out of town on a business trip and she didn't want to leave the child home with her father alone. Devon was irresponsible and might forget to feed her or leave her by herself while he went out with his friends after work.

Severus was busy finishing up a potion, he'd soon stocked the shelves with most of the potions he'd had in his lab in Hogwarts, both by brewing them himself and taking them from his classroom. He considered he was entitled to them, since he'd made them and he deserved to be compensated for all the aggravation Dumbledore had put him through.

He hoped that Melody's little daughter wasn't annoying or spoiled like the young children of several of his Death Eater acquaintances. There was nothing more Severus disliked than a whiny spoiled brat. Still, from what Aurelia had told him, Mia was not spoiled by either of her parents much, though she was also not neglected either, at least by her mother. Devon was another story. Severus had little experience with small children, and he prayed the child knew manners and did not run about the house shrieking like a demon the way Draco used to or whining that she was bored and there was nothing to do.

The Potions Master quickly finished up his work and locked his lab, which was in a portion of Aurelia's basement, enlarged with space warp spells to fit what he needed comfortably. He considered contacting the wizard community here and letting them know that he was a Potions Master, willing to concoct potions for sale. He could make good money doing that, and not worry about draining Aurelia's reserves that way. He'd tried to pay his aunt something for allowing them to live in her house, but Aurelia had snapped that she wasn't a miser and not to insult her by offering her money as if he were a stranger renting a room.

"Honestly, Severus, what do you take me for, Money Grubbing Martha?" she'd scolded, making him feel absurdly like he was ten years old again. "Family doesn't owe family, you ought to know that by now. At least that's how the Prince family operates. If you really want to contribute something to the household, you can go shopping every other week for groceries and fill up my car."

So he'd agreed, and felt much better afterwards. He'd forgotten that Aurelia had the Prince pride, for all she wasn't a witch. But she also had the Prince compassion, and she had welcomed her nephew and his child into her heart without urging. Severus she treated like the son she never had but had always wanted, no matter that he was an adult, and Harry was like her grandson.

Severus was naturally conservative when it came to saving money, a legacy of being dirt poor as a child, which was why he had saved so much, but he did not skimp on Harry or himself when it came to necessities or things like potion ingredients, and he appreciated fine things, but knew how to bargain like the best Irish horse trader. The apothecary in Hogsmeade that had supplied him with most of his potion ingredients had once called him shrewder than a leprechaun counting his gold and groaned when he saw Snape coming, for he knew he'd be beggared by the time the Potions Master was done bargaining for whatever he needed. Snape refused to pay a penny more for his stock, and the apothecary knew better than to try and pass off inferior ingredients as a discount with him, because Severus was too sharp and would see through the deception in two seconds and withdraw his business. Snape hated cheating conniving shopkeepers.

The Potions Master was pondering finding a new apothecary on this side of the Atlantic as he emerged from the basement and went into the kitchen to grab a bite to eat. He found Harry already there, eating a turkey and Swiss on a hard roll along with some potato crisps, what Americans called chips, and something called Yankee Doodles, which were a chocolate cupcake.

"Hi," Harry greeted him before continuing to eat.

"Hello. Did you take your Nutrient Potion?" Severus reminded.

Harry groaned. "I, uh, forgot. Do I have to, Dad?"

"You know the answer to that, Harry," Severus said, and summoned the potion wordlessly and handed it to his son, who scowled at it.

"I feel fine. Why do I need it?"

"Because you were starved for over half your life and you won't grow properly else," Snape returned. "Now just take it and stop whining like a baby."

Harry muttered something under his breath that Severus was sure was a comment about how unfair his father was being, and he shot the boy a warning look. While he was glad Harry seemed more comfortable around him and had stopped being afraid of him, he would not tolerate any insolence from his son.

Harry caught it and drank the blasted draft, grimacing at how awful it tasted. Then he resumed eating, wishing Sev didn't keep such a careful watch on his health. He was accustomed to looking after his own well being mostly, since the Dursleys never gave a damn whether he lived or died, and this new regard from his parent took some getting used to.

Snape performed weekly diagnostics on him to make certain he was recovering the way he ought to from the ordeal he'd endured, and afterwards he'd usually give Harry another disgusting healing draft to imbibe. He was almost as bad as Madam Pomfrey, and Harry dreaded those checkups. He could sympathize with Ron totally now when the other teen complained about the way his mum fussed over him, making sure he ate vegetables and wore proper clothing and all. Only Snape was much worse, Harry thought, because he had a damn potion for everything and he took great delight in making sure his son drank all of them.

Little did Harry know how badly damaged his system had been by the repeated Cruciatus Curses, for Severus did not want to scare the boy, he was already emotionally under a lot of stress. So he simply took matters into his own hands and nursed his son back to health gradually, without telling him just what he was doing. He knew Harry was becoming irritated by what he saw as Severus's frequent and unnecessary checkups, but he was not willing to reveal his true purpose yet, and so the boy would have to just endure Severus's fussing, as he put it.

Severus had just started to eat his own sandwich and drink a glass of iced tea when Aurelia pulled up with her granddaughter, five-year-old Mia Barry. He could hear the little girl's excited chatter as they entered the house. "I've got cousins from England, Grandma? Why didn't I ever see them before now?"

"Because they lived far away, and they only just now came to live with me, sweetheart," Aurelia told her, laughing.

"They live here? Like Grandpa used to and Mommy?"

"Yes." Aurelia said, then called, "Harry, Sev, we're home!"

"Like we couldn't tell," Harry remarked softly to Severus, then rose to see if his aunt needed any help with Mia's suitcase.

He found a small girl with bright hazel eyes and short dark hair standing in the foyer. She was wearing a pretty green sundress and sandals with Ariel the Little Mermaid on them. When she caught sight of Harry she gave him a brilliant smile and stuck out her hand.

"Hi! Are you my cousin? My name's Mia."

"I'm Harry," he shook her little hand gently.

"I'm five," she informed him proudly. "My birthday was three weeks ago, on July 27th. How old are you?"

"Thirteen. And my birthday's a few days after yours, on July 31st."

"Cool! Did you have a party?"

"Uh . . ." Harry didn't know how to reply to that, since the truth was he'd celebrated his birthday alone, the way he usually did, only receiving presents from Ron, Hermione, Hagrid, and Mrs. Weasley. The Dursleys had never bothered celebrating Harry's birthday, since they would have been happier if he'd never been born, or so said Petunia once.

Aurelia, understanding his hesitation, quickly ushered her granddaughter into the kitchen, saying, "Harry, will you please put Mia's suitcase in my room? Mia, you can ask Harry all your questions later, for now let's go into the kitchen and meet your other cousin, Harry's dad, Severus Snape, or Sev for short."

Harry quickly beat a retreat to Aurelia's room with the child's suitcase, grateful to not have to answer any more awkward birthday questions.

When he returned to the kitchen a few minutes later, he saw Mia was seated next to Severus and telling him how she came to be staying at her grandmother's house. "I always stay at Grandma's when Mommy goes away, ‘cause my daddy's an irresponsible bastard," she announced calmly.

Harry nearly burst out laughing at the little girl's frank statement. Aurelia buried her face in her hands for a moment, and Severus raised an eyebrow and said, "I see."

"Mia Aurelia Barry!" scolded her grandmother. "You know better than to use that word, young lady."

"But Mommy said it," Mia defended. "Daddy made her cry again, ‘cause of his new girlfriend, and Cindy said he needs somebody to kick his butt for him and teach him how to treat a lady. Cindy's Mom's best friend." She gave Severus a long look. "You could probably do it, Sev. You're big enough."

That was too much for Harry. He cracked up, laughing uncontrollably. Severus was speechless for once and Aurelia looked like she wanted to die. Clearly Mia had no qualms talking about her family problems to anyone, even a distant cousin she'd only just met.

Mia nodded in satisfaction. "Yup. You could."

"Lord, Mia!" exclaimed Aurelia. "The things you come out with. Sev, I apologize, she's been around adults who just blurt out things without caring that she's listening. I've warned Melody before about this . . ." She shook her head and turned to her granddaughter. "Mia, you shouldn't go around telling people everything your Mom says, honey."

"But he's not just people, Grandma, he's family. And you said you can tell family anything."

Harry was still snickering in the doorway, and he started to laugh harder at the girl's innocent remark, making Severus turn around and snap, "Harry, control yourself, for Godsake!"

Harry made a valiant effort to stop laughing. He liked his little cousin already and he'd only known her for ten minutes, he thought, smothering his giggles with his hand. Anyone who had the guts to ask Severus Snape to beat up their-how had she put it? Oh, right, her irresponsible bastard of a father-Harry bit his lip hard-was amazing in his book. The look on Snape's face . . .Bet you weren't expecting anything like that, huh, Dad?

Aurelia was still trying to explain to Mia why she shouldn't ask her cousin Severus to beat up her daddy, no matter how much her mommy or Cindy said he deserved it.

Severus had been shocked at first at the child's brazen request, but then he considered what it meant that Mia thought nothing of telling a perfect stranger how her father cheated on her mother and her mother clearly disliked her husband. The little girl had been exposed to too much of the wrong influences, seeing and hearing things no child her age should, Severus thought with a pang of sadness. Could nothing remain innocent for longer than two years? She should be telling me about dolls or something, not how her father made her mother cry over his latest girlfriend, for Merlin's sake! In an odd way, it reminded him of his own childhood, for he too had been exposed to the darker side of life by that age, having grown up with Tobias, who showed little Sev how to pop the top of a can of beer before he attended primary school and who knew what a hangover was before he knew his alphabet.

Mia was a bright child, quick-witted and too observant, he thought with a flash of anger for the things she must have seen and heard in that house. He wondered how Melody could permit her impressionable child to be exposed to such things, and resolved to speak with his cousin when she returned. If things were that bad between her and Devon, she should just divorce him and be done with it, so her child didn't grow up thinking it was normal for one's mother to call her father an irresponsible bastard and for her father to break his marriage vows so openly. After what Aurelia had already told him and Mia's statement, he was more than ready to do just as the little girl had said and pummel Melody's husband into the dirt. Or hex him into the middle of next July.

He turned to look at his son, who had finally managed to stop laughing and gave him one of his pointed glares and hissed, "Harry, act your age! It wasn't funny."

The thirteen-year-old smirked and came over to his father and whispered, "I thought it was hilarious, just imagining you knocking the guy's behind in the dirt. And you and I both know you'd do it too, Dad."

Damn! He knows me far too well for comfort, Severus thought, annoyed at how perceptive his son had suddenly become. "That's neither here nor there. What I'd like to do and what I will do are two different things, Harry. Now sit down and finish your lunch and try to stop smirking like an insane monkey, won't you?" His tone on that last sentence made it seem like an order instead of a request.

Harry, no fool, knew better than to disobey and sat down and resumed eating. One thing he did know, was that with Mia around, the week was going to be very interesting, in more ways than one!

* * * * * *

After Harry and Mia had gone to bed that night, Severus drew Aurelia aside and told her something neither she or Melody had known about the too observant little girl. "She's a witch, Aunt Relia. I could see the talent in her, even now. If she hasn't started to show signs of accidental magic already, she will soon."

"Are you certain, Sev?" Aurelia looked flabbergasted. "I never thought she'd inherit the gift. Although Melody did mention that she'd noticed odd things happening lately when Mia was around. Books flying off shelves with no one near them, and once she was giving Mia a bath and swears she saw her rubber duck dive by itself and Mia's stuffed animals dancing in a circle."

"Accidental magic," Severus nodded. "If she's showing signs already, it means she'll be a strong witch. Odd things like that will occur more frequently until she learns to control her gift and by the time she is eleven or maybe ten, her magic will have sparked fully and she'll need to attend school in order to master it. I'm not familiar with wizarding customs in America, do they have schools like Hogwarts here?"

"Yes, we do have Academies," Aurelia informed him. "But only the rich and privileged go there, and you have to be sponsored into one. That would never happen in Mia's case, Severus."

"Why not? She has as good a bloodline as any on her mother's side. Don't tell me they're prejudiced against Muggleborns here too?"

"Not to the extent they are over in Britain, no. But the Academies are like snooty prep schools, if you want an analogy. Mia isn't the daughter of a rich father or a powerful wizarding family and therefore they'd never sponsor her, no matter how strongly gifted she is. Which is just as well, since her parents could never afford it."

"Then what do the ordinary wizards do, teach themselves?"

"No, of course not!" chuckled Aurelia. "They have private tutors, mostly, ones that have signed magically binding Master Codes stating their willingness to teach a student until they have attained full wizard status. The apprentices sign articles too, binding them to learn what the master has to teach for a period of seven years."

"I see. You follow the old system then, of master and apprentice," Severus concluded. "Well then, it seems as if I'm going to be her teacher when she comes of age."

"Really, Severus? You'd be her master?"

"Yes. She's my blood and I'd not trust anyone else to teach her properly, Aunt Relia," he said firmly. A part of his mind was howling in shock at his words, but he told it to shut up. He'd thought his teaching days had ended when he'd resigned, but apparently fate had other ideas, and there was no way he'd let a strange wizard or witch tutor Mia when he could do it better himself. "Does she know about magic and wizards?"

"Not really. Oh she knows that they're in stories, but for an actual fact, no. We thought it best not to tell her the truth, since she wasn't growing up around any wizards, the way Melody was."

"I'll speak with her tomorrow and make sure she understands what's happening to her so she won't be frightened," Severus said. "How do you think Melody will react to the news?"

"Oh, I think she'll be delighted. She was always disappointed she never got any magic from my side of the family, poor girl. She used to wish for it every year on her birthday, or so she told me once."

"She must have hated me then," remarked Snape wryly.

"Oh no, Sev. Melody said you were her favorite cousin and she often wished she could see you more often. She liked having an older cousin that could do magic, even if you weren't allowed to use it that often around her."

"Good. Then she won't be jealous that her daughter's a witch, right?"

"No, why?"

"Because Lily's sister Petunia was jealous of the fact her sister could do magic and she couldn't, and she took it out on Lily and I when we were children and later on she transferred it to Harry when he lived there. Not that I think Melody would ever treat Mia the way Petunia treated Harry," Severus added swiftly upon seeing Aurelia's face turn stormy. "But I had to be sure."

"No, you need never fear that, Severus. Melody will cherish Mia even more now. As for Devon, there's no telling how that scoundrel will react, he might think it was all nonsense or he might think he could use Mia to help him in his secret . . .assignations," Aurelia said, her mouth tightening.

"That's disgusting!" Severus exclaimed angrily. "That he would expose his child to such immorality. Perhaps I ought to do what Mia suggested and kick his backside for him."

Aurelia giggled softly. "Ah, Sev, I wouldn't mind one bit! Not all! I just couldn't say that in front of Mia. But I'm afraid Melody wouldn't agree with me. For all of his flaws, I think she still loves him a little. Otherwise she'd have left long ago."

"How can she love a man who is unfaithful?"

"I don't know. If I'd ever discovered Sam was cheating on me, he'd have woken up in the hospital, because I'd have beaten him with a baseball bat until he couldn't move." Aurelia said grimly. "I thought I'd taught Mel to have more pride in herself than that, but I guess I was wrong. I can't figure her sometimes, Sev. She's not like me or her father."

Severus had a sudden flash of comprehension. "No. She's like my mother. Who stayed with a drunken abusive bastard until she died, out of misguided love or whatever you want to call it." He shook his head angrily. "I need to have a talk with her when she comes back, Aunt Relia. So history doesn't bloody repeat itself."

"Good luck, Severus. Melody dances to her own tune. She's stubborner than a mule."

"It runs in the family. And I've more than my share." Snape said honestly.

"Yes, you do!" Aurelia laughed, her brown eyes twinkling. "If anyone can convince her to see how Devon's ruining her life and Mia's also, you can, dear."

"I'll do my best, Aunt Relia."

"That's all anyone can ask, Sev." She patted him on the cheek then they both went to bed.

* * * * * *

The next morning, Severus told Mia that she was a witch, just like her great aunt Eileen had been, and like he and Harry were. "Only we're called wizards because we're men, little one."

She was quiet for a minute, then she asked, "How come?"

"How come you have magic? Or how come there are different names for wizards and witches?" Severus asked.

"Both."

"All right. I'll answer the second question first, because it's easier. The reason a man who has magic is called a wizard is because of language, Mia. Wizard means a wise man, so that's why we use that term. Witch means a wise woman. They're different words with the same meaning, do you understand?"

Mia nodded. "Uh huh. But then what's a magician, Severus?"

"It's another name for a person who uses magic. I've noticed that witches in the US tend to prefer that name, probably because of all the superstition in this country going back to the Salem witch trials."

"People think witches are bad," Mia said. "Like the wicked witch in Sleeping Beauty."

"Yes, some people don't know any better. But while some witches are bad, others are not."

"I'm not a bad witch," Mia stated firmly. "I'm a good one, like Glinda in The Wizard of Oz. Have you ever seen that movie?"

"Uh, no."

"Oh good! Then maybe we can watch it tonight, okay?" she gave him puppy dog eyes and he melted, to his eternal shock.

"Yes, all right, child," he agreed gruffly. "Now as I was saying-"

"D'you mean it?" she interrupted him. "You'll watch it with me, Severus? Promise?"

"Yes, I promise," he said quickly. "Now listen to me, Mia, this is important. Your magic is a gift, and it makes you different from other little girls, but that doesn't mean you're not as good as they are. Just different. And that's a good thing."

"I know. Like when Mom says I'm her special girl, right?"

"Exactly. You are very special, Mia," Severus stressed, wanting to reassure her that her magic was nothing to be afraid or ashamed of.

"Just like you and Harry, right?"

"Yes. But you must never tell anyone outside of your family about your gift, Mia. Because they wouldn't understand. They would think you were lying or that you were, uh, a bad witch," explained Severus, trying to use words the child would comprehend. "So you must keep your magic a secret. Can you do that?"

"I can, Severus. I don't think I'll tell my daddy. He wouldn't understand like those other people. He thinks magic isn't real. But he's wrong." She rolled her eyes and he struggled to keep from laughing. "Silly Daddy, he doesn't know anything. I always knew magic was real."

"Then you aren't frightened, little one?"

"Oh no! It's wonderful!" she declared, with a huge smile. Then she threw her arms about his neck and hugged him.

For one moment Severus remained frozen, unable to react to her enthusiastic response. Then he put his arms about her and hugged her back, thinking wistfully that this was how it should have been for Harry, when his magic first awakened, instead of the sneers and taunts he'd suffered. It would have been, if Albus hadn't meddled in their lives, Severus thought bitterly. Harry would have grown up safe and loved, with a real father instead of a nasty uncle who belittled and abused him.

Thank God that would not be little Mia's fate, not so long as he was around, he vowed. He would see to it that the child never learned to fear her powers or think she was a freak because she was born with the gift of magic.

And that, Severus, is the most important lesson you'll ever teach, whispered his conscience.

Then Mia wriggled out of his grasp and said, "What's for breakfast, Sev?"

"What would you like?"

"Pancakes. Can you make them?"

Severus smiled. "Of course. Your grandma taught me. Would you like to help?"

"Yes! Yes!" she cried. "I'll get the bowl." Then she clapped her hands, and the bowl flew out of the cabinet into her hands.

"Wow!" she gasped, her hazel eyes wide. "I did magic!"

"You certainly did, Mia." Severus agreed. Then he waved his wand and eggs, milk, and pancake mix appeared on the counter.

"Neat! Can I do that too?"

"Someday, I'll teach you that spell," said the wizard. "Can you get me the griddle?"

And Mia did, though not with magic that time. Then she stood on a little stepstool and watched Severus make the pancake batter, stirring it with a spoon at his direction.

That was the sight that met Aurelia's and Harry's eyes when they entered the kitchen that morning.

Harry rubbed his eyes, wondering if he was still asleep and this was a dream. Was he actually seeing his father, the sharp-tongued, hard-nosed Professor Snape, showing a little girl how to make pancakes?

Aurelia's eyes twinkled and she put a finger to her lips, beckoning Harry off to the side of the kitchen entrance, where they could observe the two but not be seen.

Severus was flicking water on the griddle, when it sizzled, he quickly poured the batter onto it.

"How do you know when it's done, Sev?" asked his diminutive helper.

"You watch for tiny little bubbles on the batter and count off two minutes," answered Severus.

Mia peered hard at the pancake. Then she got very excited, nearly falling off the stool. "I see them! I see them! Now you flip it, right?"

"Yes, Miss Barry," chuckled her cousin. "Now we flip it." And he took out a large spatula, put one of her hands on it and his own over it and flipped the pancake up into the air.

It landed perfectly on the griddle and Mia squealed. "Now what?"

"Now we wait two more minutes. Then we put it on a plate and eat it."

The pancake was done in moments, fluffy and browned. It was perfect.

Mia grinned happily. "You make the best pancakes ever, Sev."

He tweaked her nose. "Well, I have the best helper ever, miss."

Harry watched them and couldn't help a twinge of envy. They looked so perfect there, the little girl and the tall man, they could have been father and daughter. He couldn't help the sudden thought that rose to his mind. Is that what it would have been like, if I grew up with him instead of the Dursleys? Would he have taught me to make pancakes like that?

Aurelia was watching him closely, and she didn't miss the sudden flash of wistfulness and longing in Harry's green eyes. She knew he would never do so on his own, so she gave him a nudge and indicated he ought to go join the other two at the stove.

Harry hesitated, then went at another poke from his aunt.

He banged into the back of a chair slightly and Mia turned about.

"Hey, Harry! Want to help us make pancakes?"

"Uh . . .I don't know how," he began awkwardly, not wanting to intrude.

"It's easy! Sev showed me. C'mon."

Harry hesitated, then went over when Severus beckoned him. "Mia, what do you do first?"

"First you get the ingredients . . ." she said.

Aurelia watched the three and grinned. Yes, it had been a good idea to have Mia come here. She did what she did best, brought light and happiness to everyone, which was a great gift, even greater than her newly discovered magic.

That night, Severus kept his promise and they all watched The Wizard of Oz, and Mia fell asleep on Snape's lap. When Severus commented on how happy the child had been that they were going to watch the movie, Aurelia said only, "She's not used to a man keeping his promise to her, Sev. Her father breaks nearly every promise he ever makes. I think you're the first man she's ever known that's kept his word to her."

"And I always will," he said quietly, for he knew the pain of a promise broken.

* * * * * *

In a day and a half, or maybe sooner, Mia had stolen both men's hearts. She had wrapped them about her little finger, thought her grandmother with a secret smirk, though Severus would have denied that had happened to his last breath. As for Harry, he just loved having a younger child that looked up to him, for he had never had a younger sibling, and Mia thought he was wonderful.

"Harry! Let's play Operation!" she called, tugging on his sleeve while he was finishing up his History of Magic essay.

Eager to get away from the deadly dull subject, Harry stuffed the half-finished essay back in his book and got up from his desk. "What's Operation?"

"You've never played it?" she repeated in astonishment. "Where'd you grow up, the North Pole?"

Harry chuckled, Mia came out with the most outrageous things sometimes. "Something like that. I grew up with my spoiled cousin Dudley, and he got everything and I got . . .never mind. What's Operation?"

"It's a game, silly!" she dragged him out of the room and into the den, where a plastic red and yellow box with a man painted on it sat on the table. The man had holes in him in certain places, and when Harry peered in them he saw more plastic pieces inside. "See, you have to pretend to be a doctor and operate on him," Mia explained. She showed Harry the different cards, which she couldn't read all of, but knew them by heart anyway, that told you what part of the man to operate on.

"Mom and I play all the time," she informed her older cousin.

But she didn't bother to tell Harry that the man's nose lit up and a loud buzzing sound rang out if you touched the side of the hole with the red tweezer-like tool.

Harry jumped and Mia giggled. "Got you!"

"Brat! You did that on purpose!"

"I scared you!" she sang. "Didn't I?"

"Oh yeah, you did," Harry pretended to shiver, playing along with her. "Your turn. Let's see how good you are, Dr. Barry."

She picked up a card. "Oh no! The charley horse. This one's hard," frowning, she concentrated, and before she could grasp the piece with the metal tool, it flew up out of the hole and into her hand.

She gasped. "Uh oh! I did magic again. I'm sorry!"

"It's okay, Mia," Harry reassured her, ruffling her hair. "That's normal. Your magic reacts when you feel strongly about something. I used to make things fly all the time when I was your age."

"You did?" He nodded. "But now I cheated. I'm not supposed to use magic to play this."

"So put it back and do it the Muggle way," instructed her cousin.

"Muggle? What's that?"

"Uh, it's what we call people without magic, who aren't wizards."

"Oh. What for? Why don't we just call them people?"

Harry had never been asked that before. "Umm. . .I don't know." Now that he thought about it, it did seem kind of dumb, like wizards were attempting to distance themselves from the rest of the human race. He wondered if purebloods like Malfoy had invented that term, the way they had Mudblood. Perhaps he'd ask Severus, the man knew almost everything, he'd probably know the origin of the word Muggle.

"I mean, we're all people, right? Just we've got magic and they don't." Mia said softly. "That's the only difference." She put back the horse piece and then she picked up the tweezer-like tool again.

This time the piece stayed where it was and the little girl managed to get it out without her magic assisting her.

"Good job!"

"You owe me $1500 bucks," said the little mercenary, then she grinned angelically.

Harry paid her. They continued until all the pieces were out of the man.

Mia won, and she clapped her hands. "I won, Harry!"

He pretended to look upset. "Yeah, you kicked my butt good."

She laughed. "We can play again. You can go first."

Five games later, Mia had won three out of five, and Harry said she was an excellent doctor. "You can operate on me any time, kid."

"Okay. But you aren't coming near me with a tweezer, Harry."

Severus had just come into the den to call them for lunch and caught that last comment. He roared with laughter. Oh, child, you are a treasure!

* * * * * *

That night, Aurelia said that Mia could pick the nightly TV show. The little girl chose to watch Animal Planet. The first show was only an hour and it was called The Crocodile Hunter. It featured Steve Erwin and a gigantic python. It was interesting though Harry thought the man was mad to handle such a huge and dangerous snake with nothing but his bare hands. And he was just a Muggle too!

"Did you like it, Harry?" she asked when it was over. "I love Steve!"

"Yes, what's on next?"

"My favorite show! That's My Beagle! It's all about beagles," she said, bouncing up and down.

Severus winced. "Sit still, won't you? I'm not a trampoline, miss."

"Oops. Sorry, Sev." She curled up in his lap and stopped jumping. "Beagles are my favorite dog. They're so cute. Do you like dogs, Sev?"

"Yes. Provided they're well-mannered and don't jump all over you and lick you to death."

Harry liked dogs too, but had never been allowed to have one, because Aunt Petunia thought they were dirty disgusting animals. Once, when he was about five, he'd actually asked her if he could have one. And she had screeched at him that she already had enough problems with him, why would she want to add another animal to the household.

Dudley had snickered and said they didn't need a dog when they had Harry, he was just as good as kicking a stray, and if he died no one would miss him.

Petunia had not bothered to reprimand her son for his cruel words. Harry had not understood why then. But he did now. It was because she had agreed with them.

He pushed the unwelcome memories away for now. Later when he was alone in his room, he would write them down in a special journal Severus had given him. His father had told him he should write down any memories he had of things that bothered him, and when he felt like it, he could read them and see if he still was bothered by them. If he was, he could talk about them with Severus or Aurelia, who was a wonderfully intuitive psychologist, even though she had never held a degree. Neither of them would ever read his journal unless he permitted them to.

At first Harry had thought the whole idea was stupid and the last thing he wanted was to have to write more. But he soon discovered that writing helped ease the pain inside of him, just the act of putting a memory down helped relieve a great deal of anguish. So now he wrote in the journal every night, and gradually the knot of miserable cold inside of him started to thaw.

He returned his attention to the show, which had all kinds of little vignettes about people who owned and trained beagles. Beagles ran through obstacle courses, competed in dog shows, hunted rabbits and played with kids of all ages. Some of the stories were funny, some were sad, and some were simply heartwarming.

Harry looked at the happy-go-lucky dog with the adorable face and sweet nature and longed for one with all of his heart. The show was over all too soon and the host announced, "That's the weekly edition of That's My Beagle, folks! Tune in next time for more beagle tales from America's favorite hound dog! And if you're interested in owning one, here are a list of breeders, numbers, rescue sites, and addresses."

The screen was suddenly filled with a list of breeders and phone numbers as well as beagle rescues all over the US. Harry sighed and didn't notice that Aurelia was scribbling rapidly and so was Severus.

"I wish I could have a beagle, Harry," said Mia wistfully. "Don't you?"

"Yeah. I always wanted a dog."

"Me too. I asked my daddy to get me a stuffed beagle for my birthday, ‘cause he's allergic to dogs, but he forgot. But Mom got me a really nice book about them and lots of other cool stuff. I wish Daddy didn't forget so much. He never remembers anything I tell him, even when he promises me he listens to what I say." Then she asked Harry what he'd gotten for his birthday.

Harry told her the truth, because he didn't think it was wise to lie to the kid, although he left out the part where Uncle Vernon had wrapped up a used tissue in a box and handed it to him with their regards. She didn't need to know the way his relatives had treated him, she was neglected enough by her own father.

"What did you get him, Sev?" Mia asked next.

There was a rather awkward silence, then Severus replied, "Actually, I owe Harry a special birthday present, Mia, since I was . . .away when he had his birthday. Maybe you could help me choose one for him."

Mia was thrilled. "Okay! I've got a great idea!" She leaned over and whispered in Severus's ear.

The Potions Master's face was carefully neutral when he replied, "You really think that he'd like that?"

Mia nodded, grinning brightly. Then she whispered something else, and Severus nodded .

"Yes, you can come when we go buy it, miss. I'll need your expert input."

"You do?" she wasn't used to an adult ever requesting her opinion before.

"Absolutely," Severus reassured her and was rewarded with one of her beautiful smiles, which reminded him of her mother when she was a girl. Melody always had a beautiful smile, one that lit up her whole face.

"When can we go buy it, Sev? Tomorrow? Please? Please?" she begged, jumping up and down on his knees again.

He winced. "Settle down, little one," he ordered slightly, putting his hands on her shoulders to halt her bouncing. "We'll see. Maybe tomorrow or the next day. I'll let you know when, Miss Curiosity."

She beamed up at him happily, then nestled into his chest and asked, "Can you tell me a bedtime story, Severus? Grandma usually does, but I want to hear one from you tonight."

"You do?" Severus was astonished. And a bit panicked, for he couldn't think of what to tell the little girl. Then he recalled Lily reading from a book called Love You Forever when Harry was little, and he still remembered it. "Very well, but first you need to brush your teeth and get into pajamas, imp."

She slid from his lap and raced into the bathroom. "Be back quick as lightning, Sev!"

"Do you need help, honey?" asked Aurelia.

"No, Grandma, I can do it my own self. I know how."

She returned in six minutes, wearing a Tinkerbell nightgown, slippers, and displayed her shiny white teeth for Severus and Aurelia to inspect. They praised her for doing a good job, then she climbed back up on Severus's lap for the promised story.

"This story is about a Mum and her little boy, but it works just as well for little girls," Severus told her, then he began telling it. It was all about a mother's love for her child, no matter how much trouble the boy got into, and also about how the love was returned when the son grew up and came to take care of his mother when she was old.

Mia listened intently, yawning every now and again, until Severus finished. "I really liked that story, Sev."

"So did Harry. His mum used to read it to him when he was two."

"Where is Harry's mommy?"

"Uh, she's in heaven, sweetie," answered Aurelia sadly. "With the angels, like Grandpa."

"Oh no! That's so sad!" she turned around and hugged Severus. "You must miss her a lot."

"I do," Severus said hoarsely.

Then Mia jumped off his lap and went over to Harry and hugged him too. "I'm sorry you haven't got a mommy anymore, Harry," she said, and he saw tears in her huge eyes. "You can share mine if you want."

"Thanks, Mia," he said, blinking sharply and he hugged her tight. He barely remembered Lily, but he had never stopped longing for her. "I'd like that, kid."

"Good, ‘cause then you can be my big brother. Sort of," she told him earnestly. "I always wanted a big brother. Even more than I wanted a stuffed beagle."

That made them all laugh. "All right, now it's time for you to be in bed, young lady," said Aurelia. "Why don't you let your sort of big brother tuck you in, Mia?"

"Sure!" she wrapped her little arms about Harry's neck and he picked her up.

The two departed for Aurelia's bedroom, which was where Mia slept, leaving Severus and his aunt staring after them.

"Does Melody know what a treasure she has for a daughter, Aunt Relia?" asked her nephew. "Because if not, I'll be sure to inform her when I have that talk with her."

"Oh, she knows, Severus. Melody may be many things, but she's a wonderful mother and she loves Mia to pieces." Then she whispered behind her hand, "When do you want to start calling numbers?"

"First thing in the morning," he answered mysteriously, and smirked in secretive delight.

* * * * * *

The next morning, Severus asked Harry to begin cutting up flobberworms and chopping acacia roots for a potion he was going to brew later on. He also asked the teenager to set up the distillation apparatus, as he was going to be distilling the potion later on. Harry did not protest, for cutting up ingredients for his father was not the chore it usually was when he was in school. This was not punishment, and he discovered he didn't mind working as his dad's personal potions assistant.

So he set to work with a will, and soon had all the requested ingredients chopped and placed in small bowls and the distillery set up waiting for Severus to use it when he returned. He had taken Aurelia's car and departed with Mia on a mysterious errand, which Harry suspected had to do with getting him a belated birthday present. He was touched that Severus would do such a thing and wondered what the man and his cousin would pick out for him. Perhaps a new broom?

He'd been shocked when Snape had told him he could drive a car, for wizards did not normally do so, but then he recalled that Severus had grown up as both Muggle and wizard, and so had learned both ways of transportation. Still, the rules of the road were different in America, Harry thought in consternation, and he hoped Severus would be careful driving, since Americans drove on the wrong side of the road.

He came upstairs from the lab and went immediately into the bathroom to wash his hands, since he'd been handling acacia roots, which were slightly poisonous if eaten. After scrubbing very well with special soap Severus had told him to use, Harry wandered into the den and began flipping through a magazine idly. He hoped Ron or Hermione had gotten his letter, and they had written back to him. Hedwig perched on the back of the couch, sleepily hooting and preening her wizard's hair gently.

Harry scratched the gorgeous avian on her chest until she dozed, and continued reading the magazine, which was a Muggle one, called Newsweek.

The house was silent without Mia in it to fill it with her chatter and laughter and Harry found he missed it. Aurelia had gone with Severus and Mia as well, to shop for groceries, she said. Harry checked his watch, it was now past twelve and he wondered what they could be doing for four and a half hours. How long did it take to pick out a birthday present, for Merlin's sake?

Fifteen minutes later he heard the sound of the Sonata in the driveway and felt his heart quicken in absurd anticipation. You're such a little kid, Harry! He mocked himself softly. You're acting like you're six, not thirteen! It's not like you've never received a present before.

Yeah, but this is the first present I've ever received from my dad, he reminded himself. That I can remember anyhow.

Then the front door opened and Mia burst in, her face aglow. "Harry! Harry! I know it's past your birthday, but we all got you a birthday present."

He pretended to be surprised. "Really? Thanks!"

"Come on, come and see it!" She grabbed his hand and dragged him off the sofa. "It's two presents, ‘cause one's from your daddy and the other's from me and Grandma."

He followed her into the kitchen, where Severus was setting down a large green crate with a big colorful bow on it and Aurelia had three brightly wrapped boxes in her hands which she put on the kitchen table.

Harry stared. All that's for me?

"Here he is, Severus!" announced Mia.

Severus turned around and gave his son a smile. "Happy birthday, Harry! I know I'm over a month late, but better late than never as Lily used to say."

Harry felt a lump suddenly come into his throat. "Uh, thanks, Dad." Then he turned to Mia, who was vibrating in place. "What should I open first? The green crate or the other ones?"

"The crate! Before she gets lonely!" Mia blurted, then clapped a hand over her mouth. "Oops! I ruined the surprise. Damn!"

"Language, miss!" Severus reprimanded.

"Sorry."

"No you didn't, kiddo," Harry reassured her. "I still don't know what it is." But he had a wild idea. He knelt to open the door on the crate and suddenly the puppy inside awoke and came towards him.

Two seconds later he had his arms full of a very excited three month old beagle puppy, who was licking him ecstatically. He laughed and hugged the soft ball of fur, who was a beautiful little female with a orange head and a white muzzle with a stripe up her nose. She was mostly white, with a large black saddle over her back and orange around it, with four white feet and the traditional white tail tip.

"We got you a puppy!" sang Mia, petting the dog as well. "A beagle of your own. I picked her out myself! Do y'like her Harry? Do you?"

Harry gently shoved the puppy's face away from his mouth so he could talk. "I love her, Mia! She's the best birthday present I ever got in my life!"

The puppy barked softly, though it came out more of a little howl. "Arroo!"

Harry laughed and ruffled the dog's silken ears. "That's my beagle!"

The puppy began to nibble on his fingers. "She's teething, son," Severus told him. "So we picked out a lot of chew toys and bones for her, since the breeder told us beagle puppies chew a great deal." He knelt to scratch the puppy's chest and the beagle licked his hand.

"Does she have a name, Dad?"

"Well, the name on her kennel papers is Briar Rose, but the breeder said you can change it." The puppy mouthed the professor's hand and Snape tapped her on the nose. "No bite!" he scolded, and put his palm over her muzzle for a minute. "Don't let her bite you, Harry, otherwise she'll think it's all right to bite people later." He summoned a small chewie stick and gave it to her, praising her when she gnawed it. "If she nips you, do what I just did and give her something appropriate to chew. That's what the breeder told me."

"Okay, Dad." Harry stroked the beagle's silky fur, gazing at his new puppy in sheer delight.

"What are you gonna call her, Harry?" Mia asked. "Her fancy name's Briar Rose, like Sleeping Beauty."

Harry thought for a moment. Then he said, "I like that name. But I'll call her Rosie for short. She's got a red head, like a rosebud too."

"Rosie! Aww!" giggled Mia, then she kissed the top of the beagle's head. "She's so sweet. And now you can go on That's My Beagle, Harry, and tell people all about her."

"Please God, no," groaned his father. "That's all we need, my son and his celebrity dog."

Harry laughed and gave Rosie to Mia to hold while he opened up the rest of his presents, which were a SuperNintendo game system and some popular games and a whole entire puppy care kit.

There were times that Severus Snape thought he seriously needed his head examined. Such as when he'd listened to his five-year-old cousin and bought Harry a beagle puppy for a belated birthday present. The puppy was adorable, but behind those pleading brown eyes lurked the imp of mischief squared. When the breeder had told him that beagles like to chew, the man hadn't been exaggerating, as Severus discovered to his dismay.

Rosie chewed everything. But especially socks, shoes, and pillows. The puppy was like a whirlwind, and though Severus insisted Harry keep the dog confined only to certain areas of the house, like the kitchen and his bedroom, Harry inevitably forgot and Rosie got into mischief.

Said mischief included but was not limited to-chewing Severus's best pair of shoes, he still couldn't figure out how the dog got in his closet, unless he'd left the door open by mistake, stealing Aurelia's underwear and racing around the house with it, knocking over the waste paper basket in Severus's room and shredding all the parchment scraps all over the floor, then having an accident on the rug in the corner, ripping apart Aurelia's pillow on the sofa and rolling in the resulting pile of feathers, and chewing holes in all of Harry's socks.

Merlin's bloody beard, what did I buy here, a dog or a pair of jaws? Severus wondered after catching the beagle with his favorite tie in her mouth. He'd stupidly left it out on the bed and Rosie had jumped up and grabbed it. After scolding the puppy sternly and giving her yet another chew bone and putting her in her crate for a fifteen minute time out, he walked outside and yelled for his son.

"Harry! Come in here, right now!"

Harry, who was flying just above the treeline in the backyard, winced at his father's angry tone and groaned. He wondered what new mischief Rosie had gotten into. He really loved his dog, but she was more mischievous than a barrel of pixies, and Severus had no patience for that kind of thing.

In the week since she'd arrived, Rosie had turned the formerly cozy cottage upside down. Typical beagle! He quickly circled and came in for a landing, stowing the Nimbus in the garage, then walking slowly into the house. When Severus used that tone of voice, it meant one thing-trouble. Having Snape mad at him used to be a daily occurrence once upon a time, but lately Harry had been doing his ultimate best to keep out of trouble and get along with his father, for he did not want to be constantly fighting with the man over everything. Oh, they'd had the occasional disagreement, but nothing major, and Harry didn't really want to see what Severus could dish out when he was in a real temper.

He had promised he'd never beat Harry, but his temper was legendary and who knew if one day he'd lose it and wallop his son? It hadn't ever taken much to set his uncle off, a wrong word or a look would do it. Ron agreed with him, they'd been corresponding regularly for two weeks, telling his friend of the latest happenings in the wizarding world, a criminal named Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban and they had a new DADA teacher, Remus Lupin. Harry was astonished at the news. His godfather was a professor at Hogwarts now and his mother's betrayer had escaped his prison. And there was a new Quidditch move Ron had told him about, which was what he'd been practicing when Severus had called him.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Harry called when he entered the house and found Severus standing in the kitchen, wearing a grim expression. He sometimes reverted back to addressing Severus as "sir" when he was faced with the man's temper, it seemed safer that way.

"How many times do I have to tell you to make sure Rosie's confined before you leave the house, or aren't watching her?" his father demanded. Harry hung his head. "Do you know where I found the blasted dog ten minutes ago?"

"No sir."

"In my room, chewing on my best tie!" Severus displayed the green silk tie, it had small serpents on it in gold thread and had been a gift from Lily long ago. And now it was marred by several rows of little tooth marks.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I forgot to shut the puppy gate I guess."

Severus scowled at his son. "When I bought that dog for you, Harry, I assumed you were old enough to handle the responsibility of caring for a puppy. Maybe I was wrong, since you can't seem to follow simple instructions, like keeping her in a single room when you're not watching her. This is the fifth item she's chewed of mine in two days, young man, and I don't have time to be continually casting repairing charms on every piece of clothing I own. Or yours either, for that matter." He indicated the frayed cuff of Harry's jeans. "The damn dog's a little menace!"

"She's not!" Harry snapped, unwilling to let his father insult the lovable beagle that way. "She's just a puppy, she doesn't mean to cause trouble. She doesn't know any better."

"Yes, and who is supposed to be teaching her better?" demanded Severus. "I think it's a certain green-eyed boy with my last name. But you haven't been, have you? Instead I find you outside flying while the puppy's rampaging through the house."

"I forgot, okay?" Harry flared. "Give me a break, Dad! I'm not allowed to make a mistake?"

"Mind your tone, young man!" Severus warned, his eyes narrowing. "Mistakes are fine, as long as you don't keep repeating them. And you have, Harrison Remus, and well you know it. The breeder told you to keep the puppy to only one or two rooms for a reason, so you could control her behavior and actions."

"I hate keeping her in the crate, Dad. It's like prison."

"Harry, the crate is meant to be a home for her, as well as place to put her when you can't keep an eye on her. It most certainly is not a prison."

"It reminds me of my cupboard," his son muttered.

Severus gritted his teeth. "Don't be dramatic. It's a housebreaking tool, nothing more. And if you don't want to put her there, then you can let her free in the kitchen, after making sure you've taken her out for a walk. I shouldn't need to go over these rules like you were five, Harry. You ought to know better. After all-"

"-I'm thirteen, not five, I know," the boy drawled, rolling his eyes. He knew that sentence by heart.

Severus's eyes flashed. "That'll be enough of your cheek, boy! Adjust that attitude, mister, or else the dog's not going to be the only one confined to one room."

"I said I was sorry," mumbled his son.

"Sorry's not enough. Actions speak louder than words," lectured his father. "I'd better see you taking more responsibility for this puppy, Harry, or else I might just think about-"

"Getting rid of her?" Harry finished, his green eyes blazing. "That'd be like you, huh? Get rid of what's not perfect, just like Aunt Petunia. Real nice!"

For one instant, Severus remained speechless. He couldn't believe a comment like that had come out of his son's mouth. After all he'd done, the brat dared to compare him to Petunia Dursley! How dare he?

The minute the words had left his mouth, Harry wanted to kick himself hard. He hadn't meant to say them, but he'd lost his temper and they'd just come out. He hated it when Severus started in on him in that perfectionist tone, it made him feel inadequate and stupid and guilty. He swallowed sharply.

"Dad, I-I'm sorry-I-"

"No more excuses, I don't want to hear them," his father gritted out. "Go to your room now and start writing an essay on respecting authority, namely mine. Three feet of parchment, young man. Now!" And Severus fixed him with one of his most disapproving glowers.

Harry opened his mouth to argue, thought better of it upon catching a glimpse of his father's furious eyes, and did as he had been ordered. But he was still angry at Snape and so he shut his door a little harder than he should have.

Another mistake.

Severus opened the door and stuck his head in. "Now you can add another half a foot about controlling your temper."

"Fine! But you're one to talk," he muttered under his breath.

He'd forgotten Severus had ears like a cat. "Excuse me?" he said in a deadly soft tone. "Did I just hear you say that I can't control my temper, mister? Because I assure you, boy, that if I wasn't doing so, you'd be very sorry. Now close that mouth and start writing and for that little comment your Nimbus is mine for the next two days." Then Severus sailed out of the room, closing the door gently behind him.

Harry glared at the door and muttered several uncomplimentary things about his father before stomping over to his desk and sharpening a quill.

Ha! Severus was a fine one to talk about controlling one's temper. He let a little beagle make him lose it. And to threaten to take her away! His only birthday present, the puppy he'd always wanted. Just because she chewed a little too much. Bloody unfair perfectionist git! Okay, maybe it was a lot more than a little, he conceded, glancing at his latest pair of socks, which were ripped so badly he couldn't wear them. But still . . .he loved Rosie and his father should have never threatened to get rid of her. He knew how much the dog meant to Harry.

The thirteen-year-old scowled down at his parchment. He hated writing these bloody punishment essays. He'd rather be scrubbing sinks and toilets. He threw himself on his bed and grabbed his journal instead. He would write in that first, try and rid himself of his temper by writing about how mad his father made him. Then he'd work on the stupid essay.

* * * * *

Severus massaged his throbbing temples and slowly sipped some green tea, grateful that Aurelia was out of the house today and hadn't witnessed this little drama scene. Inside her crate, Rosie whimpered and Severus snapped, "Quiet, you little scamp!"

The puppy quieted, she knew better than to disobey. Unlike his son. Merlin, but what had gotten into the boy? First that totally uncalled comparison to Petunia, and then he'd had the nerve to slam a door and say his father needed to learn to control his temper!

The brat didn't know how lucky he was that Severus had such iron control over it, because after that last remark, the Potions Master had been sorely tempted to take the rebellious child by the ear and haul him over his knee. Only the fact that he'd promised Harry that he wouldn't hit him and also his age (he was a bit too old for a spanking) enabled Severus to squash that impulse. But it had been a near thing.

Severus rubbed his temples again. There were times that he thought he never should have been a father. Like today. Between his son and his son's beagle, Severus almost longed for his solitary days as the grouchy bat of the dungeons. Almost.

* * * * * *

Severus opened the door to his son's bedroom a half-an-hour later to make sure his instructions were being followed, only to see Harry sprawled on his bed writing in his red journal.

"That's not what I told you to write in, Harry," Severus began, his tone sharp with disapproval.

Harry looked up, startled. Merlin, the man moved like a ghost! "I know, but I needed to write in here first to-uh-to calm myself down."

"Are you calm now?"

"Yes."

"Good. Then start writing that essay, because you'll stay in here until it's finished."

"I'm not allowed dinner?"

"I never said that. Stop putting words in my mouth. If you're not finished with it by then, you can finish it afterwards. And it better be legible, or else you'll do it over."

This time Harry didn't respond with any smart remark. "Yes sir." He tucked the red journal away and went over to his desk and picked up the eagle quill and dipped it into the bottle of ink, tapped it against the side of the bottle, then began to write.

Why I Should Respect My Dad

By Harry Snape

Severus lingered a moment more, watching to see that his son was actually doing as he was told, then he departed the room in a swish of black robes. He had more potions to brew for customers. Ever since he'd decided to advertise himself in that potions magazine as an independent brewer and Master, he'd had more orders than he could handle, even with Harry helping him sometimes.

Ah, well, such was the price of success, he sighed and went into the basement. A moment later he came back up, recalling that Rosie needed to be walked. Not wanting to interrupt his son, who probably wanted to finish his essay before dinner, Severus took the puppy out and walked her himself.

Rosie looked up at him with her imploring beagle eyes and whined, wagging her little tail. "You're a brat, pup. A troublemaker too, just like your master in there," Severus scolded gently, waving a finger at her. "But I forgive you. This time. At least I know you're sorry."

Rosie jumped up and licked his hand.

"All right, I get the picture, Merlin help me!" Severus murmured, then knelt to pet the soft ears and was promptly covered in wet beagle kisses.

"Ugh! Puppy breath! Please, stop!" he wiped his face with his sleeve.

Rosie bayed and began to run in circles about him. Severus rolled his eyes and decided he needed a personal therapist. Or a fifth of gin. Preferably both, for he still had to talk with his son.

And to think he'd told Melody when she came to pick up Mia that children were the best legacy you could ever have. Maybe that was true when they were five, and didn't have such a smart mouth, but his thirteen-year-old was going to give him a stroke if he didn't learn to control his tongue. Severus couldn't recall ever being that mouthy with Tobias.

Hell, Sev, you probably were and just don't remember it. You probably got walloped for it too and don't recall it either ‘cause after years all the beatings blur into each other. He's inherited your temper and your mouth, Sev, God help us all. The Potions Master groaned.

It was too bad he never touched hard liquor ever. Because a bottle of Glenlivet was looking mighty tempting right now.

* * * * * *

By the time Harry was done with his essay, including the last bit about controlling his temper, he had come out of his snit and was feeling much more ashamed of his actions than he'd been previously. He knew he'd gone a bit overboard with that last comment, and was probably lucky his father hadn't lost it totally and smacked him one. Vernon would have. In a heartbeat. But then, Severus wasn't Vernon, or anything like him. If he had been, Harry would be nursing a split lip or at the least a very sore bottom. He really ought to thank God for small favors and also that Severus was a man of his word always.

Writing that blasted essay had made him think, as was no doubt the purpose behind it, just how much Snape had done over the past month and a half to earn Harry's respect, beginning with rescuing him from the Death Eaters lair and nursing him back to health. Severus had also left his comfortable position as Potions Master at Hogwarts because of Harry, and relocated to a totally different country so his son could grow up without being manipulated by a well-meaning old wizard. He had also done his best to be there for his son when he needed to talk about problems, whether in the past, or nightmares from what had occurred recently. He'd even agreed to let Harry be home schooled for a few months until he felt comfortable attending a regular Muggle school. (Aurelia was tutoring him, she'd been a substitute teacher for years before she went into business). Yes, he had to admit he owed the man a good deal.

And how had he repaid Severus? By comparing him to his abusive aunt and answering him back with a smart comment about needing to control his temper. Now he no longer felt justified in behaving that way towards his father, despite his fear that Severus would make him get rid of Rosie. Now all he felt was guilty and terribly ashamed.

He was right, I really do need to learn to control my temper. And watch my mouth. I couldn't blame him at all if he walloped me now, even if he did promise me he would never do that. I've earned it by being a snot. If my son had said something like that to my face, I don't know if I could've walked away afterwards. I probably would have taken the kid over my knee or strangled him. I just hope Dad forgives me for it. I really am sorry.

He made sure his essay was legible, then he rose to go and find his father and give him the completed assignment. He checked his watch, it was nearly suppertime and Aurelia was probably home by now cooking. He sniffed experimentally and nodded, yes, Aurelia was cooking all right. It smelled like ground beef or something, yum!

Before he could open the door, it swung wide and his father entered. "You've finished then?"

"Yes sir," Harry said respectfully, and handed him the essay.

Severus took a seat on Harry's bed and read the essay right there. Harry was surprised, then relieved that Severus would choose to read rather than lecture his son first. He just hoped it passed muster.

He nearly started chewing his nails waiting for Severus to finish.

Luckily, Snape was a quick reader and had finished the essay in about fifteen minutes. Then he set the parchment aside and looked at his son, who was biting his lower lip to shreds. "This is acceptable. And well written, Harry. I hope you also meant what you wrote here."

"I did, sir." Harry lowered his gaze to the tops of his shoes. "I'm really sorry I ever said you were like Aunt Petunia. It was stupid and rude and I didn't mean to say it. I just got mad, y'know?"

"Yes, I do know, believe it or not. You inherited that flashfire temper from me, son. And it took me years to develop the control you think I don't have," his father remarked rather snidely.

Harry flushed. "I'm sorry about that too. I know better. I just was upset because I thought you might make me give up Rosie. That's not a good excuse for saying that though, but . . ."

Severus sighed. "No, it isn't. And I've noticed you've developed a bad habit of jumping to conclusions, Harry. You think you know what people are going to say before they say it, and then you put words in their mouth they never intended to say. Like you did today with me. I would never tell you to give up your dog, Harry. I know you love her and she's a part of this family."

"But I heard you, you said-" Harry began.

"Stop." Severus held up a hand. "See, you're assuming again. Shut up and let me finish what I was going to say, then you may speak." Harry closed his mouth with a snap. "Now then, as I was saying, if you don't start assuming more responsibility for your dog, I'm going to start treating you like a five-year-old and making charts and having you check off tasks every time you complete one and be watching you every minute and reminding you to do things, like walk her and feed her. Now, I don't want to have to do that, but I will if I don't see a major effort on your part. And if you think I'm bad now, Harry, about nagging you to do chores and homework and train that beagle, I'll be twenty times worse if you don't shape up. I'll be breathing down your neck practically every minute, and every time you forget something, I'll be on your arse so fast you won't know what hit you. Now, do you want that, young man?"

Harry shook his head rapidly. "No!"

"Then I'd better see you remembering to watch out for your puppy from now on and not giving me any back talk. Am I clear?"

"Yes sir. I'll behave. I really don't want you to get on my butt like that, you're bad enough now," his son said, shuddering at the mere thought.

Severus smirked evilly. "You're forgiven then, son. Just remember what I said, Harry. Otherwise you know what will happen."

"Right. And you're nothing like Aunt Petunia, Dad. She'd have hauled my arse into my cupboard so fast I'd have been facing backwards and then she'd have told Uncle Vernon to wallop me when he got home and I wouldn't have gotten dinner either."

Severus reached out and ruffled his son's soft hair. "Nice to know you finally appreciate me, brat. Now let's go eat, I can hear your stomach growling from here."

Then he rose to his feet and Harry followed, resolving to behave himself and work harder with Rosie in the future.

Later on that night, after he'd finished all of his homework assignments, Harry decided to ask Severus something he'd been wondering about since their talk that afternoon.

Severus was packaging several potions to be delivered to customers with his owl Streak at the kitchen table, when he looked up to find Harry at his elbow. "What is it, Harry?"

"Uh, I wanted to ask you something, Dad. I was wondering, is all, how you ever learned to control your temper?"

Severus finished tying the knot in the string, then gestured for his son to sit down next to him. Harry did. "Well, it was very difficult, especially because I never had a good example at home. My father was terrible at controlling his emotions, he let every little thing rile him, and he exploded for no reason. I lived with that my whole life, and though I promised I'd never be like him, I had his hair trigger temper too. It was my greatest bane and it still is. But one day something happened that made me realize I had to learn to keep my temper and my mouth under control, for my own good and everyone else's."

Harry leaned forward. "What was it?" He could sense another story about his father's past in the offing.

Severus did not disappoint him.

"You know about how I discovered the fact that Remus was a werewolf during my fifth year already. That was, of course, a major turning point in our relationship as friends, my knowledge of his secret. Lily and I were trying to help him as much as possible by inventing the potion we would eventually call Wolfsbane.

"But in the meantime, we also had an incredible amount of studying to do for our OWL's. I was determined to get top marks in them and so were Remus and Lily. So we studied together and quizzed each other every night in the library. Madam Pince used to say we ought to just set up beds there, we practically lived there after classes were over. But she didn't really mind because we weren't disruptive and we didn't damage her precious books.

"All our hard work finally paid off though, when it came time to take the tests. I aced my Potions of course, and so did Lily. Remus got an O too, I think, but he always said he never would have received that high a mark if it weren't for the two of us tutoring him. An O stands for Outstanding." Severus clarified at his son's blank look.

"Well, we had finished our Defense exam and were heading outside for a break. I was still reading over my paper, making sure I'd answered all the questions correctly, even though the exam was over. I thought I'd done well, I always liked that class, even though our instructor was a strict bastard."

Here Harry grinned. "Sounds like another professor I know."

"Watch it, brat," Severus mock-growled. Then he went on. "Where was I?"

"Uh, you were looking over your paper."

"Right. I was sitting down looking over the questions, and thinking about my answers when James and Black spotted me. They were bored out of their pea brains that day, having exhausted their mental capacity on their exams," Severus recalled with a sly smirk. "They wanted some action and I was the first person they saw when they looked around. Also, Black was still angry at me for taking all those points for the werewolf incident and earning him detention and another Howler from his formidable mother. Merlin, am I glad she wasn't mine! She was a scary old bitch. I almost felt sorry for him, with a mother like that.

"So they were waiting for their next chance to catch me off guard and they did. I wasn't paying attention, like an idiot, and they snuck up on me and cast a Body Bind on me before I knew what they were about. Now I'd managed to learn a bit of wandless magic from my mum the previous summer, and I canceled the spell and got to my feet.

"But Black was in full pit bull mode and he hexed me again as soon as I was on my feet. I blocked it and sent one back at him, but James attacked me as soon as I wasn't looking at him and knocked my wand out of my hand.

"Then Black started in on how I was a greasy dungeon bat and all the rest of it and I yelled back all kinds of swear words, because I couldn't get my wand and James kept knocking me in the dirt with a Leglock Jinx before I could get up and take a swing at Black."

Harry gaped. "What did you do?"

"Not much, except get mad, I think I said something about Potter's mother, I can't remember very well, except it was very nasty, and he cast a Scourgify spell on me and nearly choked me to death with too much soap.

"By then the other jinx had worn off and I was able to get my hands on my wand. I was furious as hell and I cast a spell I shouldn't have, one that could have killed James, if I'd done it right. It's a very strong combat spell called Sectumsempra, and it was a spell I'd invented myself. It cuts an opponent to pieces with invisible swords."

Harry whistled. "Sounds like something on Mortal Kombat."

"Hmm. Yes, well, I was still coughing on soap, so my spell wasn't focused enough and it only cut open his cheek instead of taking his head off. Black went crazy then, he knew what that spell was, and he cast a hex that hung me upside down in the air.

"By then everyone else who'd been outside was watching this, and they thought it was highly amusing, to see a Slytherin prefect get thrashed by the two Golden Lions." Severus was scowling angrily now. "James had knocked my wand out of my hand then and was threatening to strip me in front of everyone when your mother showed up."

Harry winced. "Oh God. Was she furious?"

"Like a dragon with stolen eggs. She lit into them something fierce, wanting to know why they couldn't leave me alone, why they got off tormenting me. They treated her like a joke, but she wouldn't have it. Potter asked her if she'd go out with him if he stopped hexing me and she spit in his face.

"He dropped me on my face then and I was ready to die of embarrassment. I was furious at them for attacking me, at myself for not being careful and keeping watch, and for letting them get the better of me, and I was also angry at your mother for defending me so publically.

"The others were all laughing and pointing at me, saying how stupid I looked, how I wasn't even man enough to defend myself and needed a girl to do my fighting for me and other things. Well, I completely lost my head then. I got up from the ground and yelled at Lily, "Stay out of this, Evans! I can fight my own battles and don' t need any help from a Mudblood!"

"You called her that name?" Harry cried. "Dad, how could you?"

Severus winced. "I don't know. But it slipped out in the heat of my temper, and I wasn't even as angry at her as I was at Black and Potter, but she was the one who got the brunt of my blasted temper. I regretted that as soon as I said it, but it was too late.

"My words hurt her badly and she turned on me and snapped, "Fine fight your own bloody battles, Snivellus!" then she slapped me one right across the face and went off with Alice, crying.

"I felt horrible, and would have gone after her, but then Potter interfered and hung me up in the air again. Black threatened to beat me with a switch for my nasty mouth, and heaven help me, I'd have let him, I think. I'd just hurt the girl I loved better than anything, insulted her publically.

"But Remus came along then and he knocked Black into a tree and made James let me down. Then I took off and spent the rest of the day in the infirmary, where nobody would think to look for me, helping Poppy and confessing to her what had happened. She gave me very good advice. She told me I needed to find Lily and apologize to her and then I needed to learn meditation to control my temper. She recommended I take lessons with Albus."

"And did you?"

"Yes. He knew about the incident, of course, and it was then that he began to cultivate me, saying I had unique talents and I could help him infiltrate the ones in my House who were allied with the Dark Lord."

"Was that when you agreed to be a spy for the Order?"

"Not then, but it was the beginning. I didn't officially join the Order until I graduated and it was then that I took up my mantle of secret agent."

"Did Mum forgive you for calling her that name?"

Severus nodded. "Yes, she did, though she gave me the cold shoulder for days and barely spoke to me, until she couldn't stand how miserable we both were and she came to me and said she forgave me. Then she said if I ever called her that again, she'd hex my tongue away," his father added. "So I never did, and that is the main reason why I work so hard to reign my temper in, so I don't ever hurt another person with my anger like that again."

"Oh. Can you teach me that meditation thing, Dad?"

"I can. If you like we'll go over some breathing techniques tomorrow."

"Thanks. I think I'd better learn it. Before Mum comes down from heaven and wallops me with a spoon," Harry said, and Severus laughed. "Mum was a member of the Order too, wasn't she?"

"She was. She was like me, a special agent. She worked in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry as an Unspeakable, that's a witch who works undercover gathering information about prophecies and such. Her work was very difficult and dangerous and it brought her to the attention of bloody Voldemort.

"There had been a prophecy spoken about him and a certain child that would be born as the seventh month died, one that would be born to parents who had thrice defied the Dark Lord," Severus recited softly. "That one would be his doom. Lily knew of the prophecy and she told me and that's why we took steps to hide you away, Harry. Because the Dark Lord believed you were the one spoken of in the prophecy and he wanted you dead. But by targeting us, he fulfilled his own prophecy."

"How, Dad?"

"Because the prophecy clearly stated that the one must be born to parents who have thrice defied him. Well, Lily and I were certainly against him, but we couldn't figure out what it meant by thrice defied him until we chose James to be your stepdad, and he was an Auror and in direct opposition to Voldemort. So the prophecy was fulfilled, because you were the son of three parents who had defied him at least once."

"There's a prophecy about me killing Voldemort?" Harry cried. "Does it tell you how to do it too?"

"No. A prophecy is never specific, Harry. It's always couched in vague phrases designed to befuddle and confuse. We're lucky we figured out what it meant in time to hide you."

"Great! Just great! Why me? Why am I always the bloody hero?" he shouted.

"Temper, Harry."

Harry blushed and tried to concentrate on breathing deeply. "Sorry. I just don't like people telling me I can choose my own destiny and then telling me that's out because a Seer had a vision about me before then saying I was supposed to be the one to defeat the darkest wizard of all. I hate it!"

Severus nodded and put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I don't blame you, son. But you don't have to worry about that any more, Harry, since I'm here. No one is going to make you into a savior without your consent, not so long as I'm around. I don't put much stock in prophecies, son, that's what got Lily and James killed and cost me all those years with you. For Albus believed it as the truth and all he did was aimed toward you fulfilling it. But that's finished now, and you can just be Harry Snape, and nobody's damn hero who has to kill the bloody Dark Lord or die trying."

"Good, because I couldn't anyhow without magic."

"Even if your magic was restored, you still would not be forced into being a hero, Harry. I would make sure you were allowed to choose, and that you knew exactly what was required of you before you made any decision. I'm not like Albus, son, I don't believe in twisting the truth to suit my own agenda. Have I answered all of your questions then?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. For now."

"Good. Now go to bed."

"Bed? But Dad, it's only nine thirty!"

"I know. And you're going to bed now as a result of your little tempest this afternoon."

"Aww, Dad, come on! I'm not tired now."

"So count sheep or dragons or something. Bed, Mr. Snape. Now."

Harry opened his mouth to protest again.

"One more word and you'll have this same bedtime for a week," his father warned. "Now get!"

Harry quickly shut his mouth, sensing his father meant what he said. When didn't he ever? But he couldn't resist shooting the man a Snape-like scowl before he turned to leave.

You're pushing it, brat! Severus thought, then reached out and swatted the impudent child on the bottom.

Harry jumped, though the swat didn't really hurt. It was more of a warning-shape up or else!

Harry understood and beat a hasty retreat to his bedroom. You only got so many chances with Severus Snape, after all.

When his father came in later to check on Harry, he found the boy fast asleep with Rosie snuggled next to him. Severus smiled. If Lily were here she'd be taking a picture, he thought wistfully.

Then he summoned her camera and snapped one. It was time to make a new photo album.

The two days without his Nimbus made the time drag for Harry, since he loved flying. But he knew it was deserved, so he didn't bother whining about it. He had plenty of time to work with his puppy, attempting to housebreak her and to teach her a few basic obedience commands, like sit, stay, and come. Rosie was sweet and lovable and she enjoyed being with Harry, and she loved it when he fed her treats after she'd performed a command. The beagle and the boy were always together now, where one went, the other usually followed.

With Harry watching her, Rosie was a lot less inclined to get into trouble, and Harry made sure to play with her and take her for a long walk just before he had lessons with Aurelia, so she would sleep in her crate while he had school.

Aurelia was a very good teacher, she was concise and careful in her explanations, and she made even the dry reading of political science fun to learn by having a mock debate with Harry. "How come you were never a full time teacher, Aunt Relia?"

"Well, there was never a position open in my area, and I only substituted because my husband often got assigned to different bases around the country, or out of it. We usually moved about once or twice every three years. Melody hated it, she used to say she felt like a gypsy, the way she was in a different school every two years. She found it difficult to make friends and sometimes her schoolwork suffered, so I started tutoring her at night. Then, when she went away to college, I started thinking about a career in business too, and I started my own consulting firm. But my first love was teaching."

"Guess it must run in the family then," Harry mused. "Although I wouldn't say Dad loves teaching. He's always strict and critical in class."

"Perhaps that's because he must be, child. Potions is a dangerous subject, you know. It can result in terrible accidents, like Muggle Chemistry. If your father weren't strict, more accidents might happen and students get injured. So I would say that it's a good thing he was strict and hard with you. Did you learn what he was teaching, Harry?"

"Oh yeah. Did we ever."

Aurelia looked pleased. "Then you have no cause for complaint, young man. If you learned the subject and retain it, then you had a good teacher." Her mouth twitched in a wry smile. "I always find it funny when kids these days complain of their teachers being too hard on them. Why, in my day, a teacher was still allowed to strike a student with a ruler if he or she acted up in class or didn't turn in homework or was insolent."

"Your teachers were allowed to beat you?" Harry was horrified.

"Yes. I went to a private girls' school and the teachers were permitted to smack a student's hand with a ruler, and the Headmistress kept a willow switch in her office to discipline the chronic troublemakers. Not that there were many of them, believe me. Old Hardcastle knew how to switch your backside six ways to Sunday."

Harry winced just thinking about it. "Were you ever, uh, punished like that?"

"I got slapped with a ruler once for talking instead of paying attention once, but no, I was never summoned to the Head's office for a switching. Now, Harry, do you still think your father is a strict teacher?"

"No, not compared to the ones you had. Merlin, am I glad the teachers at Hogwarts weren't allowed to do that to us. They gave out detentions and they were bad enough." Harry shivered just imagining if the professors were allowed to whack students in addition to giving out detentions. Ron and I wouldn't have been able to sit down for half the year, the way we acted in Dad's class. We'd have spent more time over his knee than we would've in class. Thank God I didn't grow up when Aunt Relia did.

Then a mischievous thought popped into his head, and he asked, "Aunt Relia, you knew my dad when he was little. Did he, uh, ever get in trouble when he was over here?"

"Sometimes. He had quick temper and sometimes it ran away with him, as did his smart mouth. I spanked him once for it, if I recall correctly."

Harry's eyebrows went up. "You did?"

Aurelia smirked. "Yes, and it was deserved. I remember it because it was one of the few times I ever raised a hand to a child. I was like my father in that respect, you only got spanked if you were truly awful, like Bella. My mother, on the other hand, slapped and pinched us girls for everything."

"Like Aunt Petunia," Harry said with a wince. "She used to like to grab me by the ear or the arm, and sometimes she left marks afterwards. Once I burned breakfast and she took a swing at me with a skillet, but I ducked."

Aurelia's eyes flashed with indignation and temper. "Sounds like that woman could have used a few anger management or parenting classes. Either that or a good smack upside the head."

"Got that right, Aunt Relia," Harry smirked, imagining Aurelia smacking Petunia a good one.

"Now then, enough reminiscing over the past," Aurelia cleared her throat and tapped her nephew's math book. "We can talk more after you do pages 75-77. Do all the even numbered problems and then I'll correct your work and we'll go over percentages."

"Yes, ma'am," Harry opened his book and began to copy out the problems.

Since Aurelia was a Squib, she didn't require him to use a quill and parchment, he did his classwork in a regular spiral notebook with a pencil or a pen. A fact for which he was immensely grateful for, since he tended to make a lot of errors in math and he hated to waste parchment.

While Harry worked, Aurelia read through his latest essay and graded it. The teenager was very intelligent, as would only be expected given who his parents were, and Aurelia was careful to give him assignments that challenged that intelligence, so he did not become bored. She found Harry a good student, if a bit inclined to complain about homework, but then so did every other teenager in America.

He completed all of his assignments, however, for he knew better than to give Aurelia a hard time. While not as strict as Severus, she held him to a high standard and she tolerated no insolence. Severus had informed him at the beginning of the month that if he crossed Aurelia and earned himself detention, he would also earn himself punishment from Severus as well. Not wanting to get in trouble twice, Harry behaved himself, save for the occasional grousing over the amount of homework.

Still, it was not the boy's attitude towards his schoolwork that made Aurelia eye Harry with concern. In the month and a half Harry had been here, he had no interaction with children his own age. She knew he had friends from Hogwarts, but Severus had told her that when he'd lived with his former guardians, they had not permitted Harry to see any of his friends over the summer. They kept the boy under lock and key, sometimes literally, doing all their chores and treating him like a virtual slave.

And while that wasn't the case here, Aurelia was worried that Harry was becoming too withdrawn. Sure he had her and Sev to talk with and Rosie to play with, but they were not a substitute for friends his own age, who could relate to a thirteen-year-old.

She resolved to have a little talk with the Potions Master when Harry was out of the house flying or walking Rosie.

* * * * * *

"Severus, the child needs to get out and have company his own age," she told her nephew that same afternoon, as he was stirring a batch of Pepper Up Potion. "It's not normal for a boy his age to remain cooped up with just adults and a beagle for company. I'm aware that he needed time to settle in and come to terms with what happened to him, but he seems to have adjusted well, from what I can see. He's not depressed or anything, is he?"

"No, not from what I've been able to read," answered Severus. "And most of his nightmares have stopped. He only has them occasionally now, and when he does he either writes it down in his journal or tells me and we discuss it. His overall health is much improved too, thanks to regular meals and vitamins and my potions. He's recovered totally from the effects of the Cruciatus Curses and the other damage he sustained from the Death Eaters."

"I'm very glad to hear that, Sev. But you know he needs more than just that dog to keep him company. He needs someone his own age he can talk to and play video games or whatever teenagers do these days. Melody used to have her friends in and out of here every day. I used to end up cooking for half the neighborhood," she said with a faint smile.

Severus looked thoughtful. "You're right, Aunt Relia. I was so concerned over his physical and mental health I didn't think about what it must have been like to lose his friends when he moved here. He still writes them, of course, but that's not the same. What do you suggest? Are there any teenagers around here for Harry to talk to?"

"As a matter of fact, there is. Only they live in Melody's development, which is only ten minutes down the road. The MacIntyres are her neighbors, and they have two boys, one who's seventeen, Mike, and the younger, Neil, who is thirteen. They're both wizards, Muggleborn, but good kids from what Melody tells me. Mia even likes them, and she's a good judge of character."

They shared an amused look thinking of Aurelia's granddaughter, who would someday be a woman and a witch to be reckoned with. Melody had been pleased that her daughter had inherited the Prince magic, Severus had informed her of that fact as soon as she had arrived to pick Mia up last Saturday.

Melody still had the same curly brown hair and hazel eyes he remembered, but she was taller and had matured into a very attractive woman. However, she agreed with Mia about telling Devon his daughter was a witch. "He'd never understand, Sev. He doesn't believe in anything he can't see or touch. He's very much a realist."

"Magic is real."

"Not as far as Devon's concerned," snorted Melody. Her hazel eyes darkened. Her mother had told her of Mia's remarks and she had sighed and said he daughter knew far too much for her age.

"Has he threatened you, Mel? Or threatened to take Mia from you?" Severus asked abruptly. "Is that why you won't leave him?"

"No, he wouldn't take Mia from me. He doesn't have the faintest concept of how to care for a child. All he knows is stocks and women. Every woman besides his wife, it seems. I married him because he said he loved me, but after two years I realized that was just a line and what he really loved was the way I supported him and looked good in his image of the perfect Wall Street broker."

"Then why stay?"

"Because I don't want Mia to grow up without a father. Stupid, right? I know he's no good, but I loved him once and I think a little part of me does still. Mom says I should just kick his ass out and get a divorce, she's probably right. Then I wouldn't have to worry about him finding out about Mia's magic."

"I agree with her," Severus said quietly. "You deserve better, Mel. You want me to go and have a talk with him?"

Melody eyed him askance. "A talk? I know you, Severus. Last time you said that, I was eight and came home crying because Pete Mitchell called me stork-leg and railroad-mouth and knocked me down. And you told me not to worry you'd have a talk with him. You came back ten minutes later with a split lip, a black eye, and bruised knuckles and when Aunt Eileen asked what you'd been doing you said I had a talk with a kid that was bothering Melody. He got the message."

"It was true. I told him if he ever bothered my cousin again, I'd make him wish he'd never been born. He laughed at me and I let my fist talk to his face," Severus informed her with soft chuckle. "I can have the same talk with your husband if you want, Mel."

"Thanks, Sev, but I don't want you to be facing a lawsuit for assault. He's not worth the trouble."

"What trouble? I'd teach him a good lesson in manners and then I'd Obliviate myself from his memory."

"You'd use magic to make him forget about you? I didn't know that was possible."

"Yes, but it's not something we do on a regular basis. But in his case, I'd make an exception."

"It's tempting, I'll say that much. If I get aggravated enough, I may just take you up on it, Sev. I missed you coming to visit, you know. I'm glad you're back, you and Harry both. Don't be a stranger, come over sometime. My door's always open." Then she had hugged him and bid him goodbye.

Recalling that conversation made him smile slightly. He gave his potion three more counterclockwise stirs and turned off the fire beneath the cauldron. "It needs to set for five minutes," he explained when his aunt looked at him quizzically. "I think we should go over and visit Melody and Mia tomorrow, with Harry and Rosie. The MacIntyre children ought to be home since tomorrow's Sunday, and perhaps Harry can meet them."

"Yes, that's a good idea, we wouldn't want him to think we staged this meeting between them," Aurelia agreed. "In fact, I think we can let Mia do the introductions, she knows both kids and loves doing that kind of thing."

Aunt and nephew exchanged identically satisfied smirks, then Severus turned back to his potion, which was ready to decant, and Aurelia went back upstairs to figure out what they ought to have for dinner that night.

• * * * * * * *

Sunday morning, Harry awoke to Rosie licking his face. Grinning, he gently shoved her muzzle away and got up. While he was pulling on his socks, Rosie pounced on his feet and grabbed one, growling little puppy growls and trying to tug it off. Harry engaged in a brief tug-0-war with the beagle before realizing the sock was in danger of being torn and swiftly removed Rosie's sharp teeth from the material.

The beagle pup gave him an injured look.

"Hey," he waved a finger in front of her nose. "You know better than that. If Dad catches you putting one more hole in my clothes, he says he's gonna hex all your teeth out. And then where would you be, huh?" he knelt to ruffle her satiny ears and she groaned in pleasure and leaned into his hand.

Rosie was definitely a people person, she liked nothing better than to lie there and have her belly rubbed, her ears scratched and be petted. She would snuggle beside anyone willing to pet her, wearing a blissful beagle smile. Harry had noticed that the little beagle was quite vocal when she was being petted, she sighed and moaned rather like a person in the throes of ecstasy. She also loved blankets and if you attempted to move her from one, she would make an annoyed half-growl, as if to say-hey, what's the big idea? Can't you see I'm sleeping?

Despite the countless mischief she always seemed to find, Harry adored the puppy, and sometimes found it difficult to resist those soulful eyes and punish the dog when she misbehaved. Severus just shook his head. "You're not doing her any favors, Harry, by not punishing her when she misbehaves. I know it may seem cute now when she runs around the house with your sneaker, but it won't be a few months down the road when you need to get dressed for school and she just ran off and buried your shoe in the dirt."

Harry sighed. "I know, Dad, but every time I yell at her she gives me this look and I feel so guilty I just can't punish her." Which was why he was glad Severus felt no such compunction, because then he could teach the puppy manners instead.

Severus's mouth twitched. "That's a common problem of every new parent, Harry. Discipline is tough the first time you have to do it, but if it's necessary, you need to just grit your teeth and follow through. In the end you'll be glad you did, because nobody likes a misbehaving dog. It's the same with a child. Spoiled brats are terribly annoying and embarrassing."

"Yeah, but this isn't a kid, it's a dog. An adorable dog."

"Harry, that adorable puppy is going to grow up to be a first class pain in the arse if you don't discipline her now."

"But Dad, can't you, uh . . .just do it? I mean, you're a lot more experienced than I am and you enjoy it besides." Harry pointed out, flashing his father a very long pleading look from his bright green eyes.

"No. She's your puppy, therefore it's your job to discipline her, son." Severus said firmly. "Discipline isn't something you need to enjoy in order to do. I certainly don't enjoy disciplining you sometimes, Harry, but if I don't you'll never learn proper behavior."

Harry gaped at him. "You don't?"

"No. I have much better things to do than scold you and punish you, son, but sometimes we all have to do things we don't like. That time I caught you playing with James's wand and spanked you, I was not happy about it at all. I was sure you were going to hate me afterwards, and I was afraid I'd made the biggest mistake of my life punishing you that way."

"You did," his son teased. "I'm scarred for life, Dad."

Snape eyed him and snorted. "Sure you are, brat. I swatted you five times and you cried for about ten minutes in my arms before you said you'd never do it again and fell asleep. Oh, the trauma! But you learned your lesson and that was what mattered. I saved you from much worse by disciplining you, and if you care about Rosie at all, you'll do the same."

Harry bit his lower lip thoughtfully. What Severus said made sense . . .too much sense. He couldn't recall the incident Severus had described eleven years ago, but he trusted his father's version of events. Severus had no reason to lie to him, and Harry had seen for himself that the man might be strict, but he was also fair. And unlike the Dursleys, he had no real love for spanking, and had reserved that punishment for the worst offenses. Such as blowing huge craters in the middle of the kitchen floor.

Severus sensed his son's dilemma and added helpfully, "Furthermore, Harry, if you allow me to correct her and not you, she will come to respect me as her alpha and ignore you. That's not what you want, right?"

"No. But I want to be her friend as well as her alpha."

"And you can, but puppies, like children, need boundaries. Now go find my slipper, I think she dragged it outside."

She had, and Harry had scolded her for it and given her a sharp tap and put her in her crate. "Bad girl! Go home, Rosie."

The beagle had slunk inside the crate, tail tucked between her legs, whimpering when the door was latched. Harry felt bad, but after five minutes he released her and discovered the beagle didn't hold grudges.

His father had given him a nod of approval and Harry actually felt proud of himself.

Recalling that other day, Harry quickly picked up the dog and took her out for a walk, gave her a treat upon returning inside, then spent the next five minutes playing with her until Severus and Aurelia came into the kitchen.

Harry helped Severus cook, knowing they were going to see his cousins Melody and Mia today. He had grown extremely fond of Mia when the child had stayed at her grandmother's that week and was looking forward to seeing Melody as well. Then he gulped and wondered uneasily if Mel's husband Devon was going to be there also.

"Uh, Dad?"

"Yes?"

"Is Devon going to be there too?"

Severus shook his head, scrambling an egg. "Why?"

Harry released a long sigh of relief. "Good, ‘cause if he was you might be tempted to kick his arse, Dad."

"Might be? Say rather would. So it's a good thing he's gone for the weekend." Severus really disliked Melody's husband and regarded him as a social climbing whore, one who sold his talents and body to the highest bidder. And didn't care that he was hurting his child or his wife in the process.

Having gotten a satisfactory answer to his first question, Harry decided to ask the second one. "Uh, can Rosie come with us?"

To his astonishment, Snape agreed. "Yes, you can't leave her home unsupervised, so we'll take her."

Harry cheered and danced around the table until his father told him to knock it off and act his age, if he even remembered what age he was.

Harry smirked. This was turning out to be a great Sunday. Little did he know it was about to get even better.

* * * * * *

They all hopped in the car and drove the seven minutes to Melody's development, she lived in a place called Suncrest Court, in a medium-sized house with gray trim and a manicured lawn and azalea bushes flanking her porch. A typical suburban neighborhood down at the Jersey shore. Harry thought it sort of reminded him of Surrey and Privet drive, except here he was not maligned by his relatives to anyone and nobody thought he was a juvenile delinquent bound to come to a bad end.

They found Mel in the kitchen, just finishing scrubbing up the griddle, and putting a tray of cookies into the oven. Mia was at the table, eating pancakes and a side of maple-glazed ham, which was her favorite breakfast, but the only time she had it was on Sunday when her mother was home to cook it. When Mel worked during the week or was away for the weekend, her father made her eat frozen bagels, toast, or cereal, since he didn't know how to boil water.

She looked up from her plate and a huge smile burst out on her face. "Grandma! You really did come!" She got up and hugged her grandmother. Then she ran and hugged Severus. "Hi, Sev!"

"Good morning, Mia!" he said, and picked her up. She promptly gave him a rather sticky kiss on the cheek.

"Where's Harry?"

"He's outside walking Rosie."

"You brought Rosie?" she cried. "Can I go play with her?"

"Yes, child." Severus set her down and she raced out the door.

"Mia!" Melody called. "What about eating the rest of your breakfast?"

"I'm done, Ma!" her daughter shouted over her shoulder. The screen door banged as she went through it.

Melody shook her head and invited her mother and Severus to sit down and have a cup of tea. "I'm sure the kids can entertain themselves for an hour or two," she said with a wink to let Aurelia and Severus know she was in on the scheme to have Harry meet another wizard child his own age.

Aurelia smirked like a little girl with a juicy secret. "I see you're baking, Mel."

"Yeah, chocolate chip cookies. I only get to do that when Devon isn't around. He thinks baking is for those who have no lives."

"I think he needs to get a life," said Severus angrily.

"Please, Sev, don't get me started," Melody groaned, then set about making tea for them.

* * * * * *

Meanwhile, Mia had found Harry walking the little beagle and greeted both of them with her customary hug, her little face shining with joy at seeing her almost big brother and his new puppy again. Rosie jumped up and licked her whole face.

"Aww! I love you, Rosie!" Mia laughed and stroked the beagle's red head. "Can I walk her, Harry? I'll hold on real tight."

"Okay," he agreed, and handed the little girl the leash. Rosie frisked about her feet, her tongue lolling happily.

"C'mon, Harry! Let's go this way," Mia beckoned to her cousin with her free hand and led him to the left side of the lawn, which was the side the MacIntyre's house was on. She had seen Neil earlier that morning when she went out to bring in the newspaper and had told him that her cousin was coming over, so she knew he would be hanging about his backyard, waiting to meet her cousin from Britain, who was just his age.

Neil was busy kicking a soccer ball around in his backyard. Even though soccer was a Muggle sport, he'd grown up with it, since both his parents had no magic. He had sandy blond hair, freckles, and twinkling hazel eyes. He was a little taller than Harry and was quite ordinary looking, the classic all American teenager. Save for one thing, the odd crescent-shaped scar on his left cheekbone.

Rosie immediately spotted the teenager and her tail began to wag happily. She pulled on her leash, trying to go over to greet the new person playing with the delicious looking ball. "Arroo-aroo!" she bayed.

Neil looked up, saw the two kids and the very excited beagle pup, and jogged over, still dribbling the soccer ball. "Hey, Mia!" He knelt to pet the beagle. "You finally convince your dad to let you get a puppy?"

"No, this's my cousin Harry's dog," she explained, giggling when Rosie slurped the boy's hand.

Neil rose, after fending off the puppy's enthusiastic tongue, and held out a hand. "Hi. I'm Neil MacIntyre."

"Harry." Harry shook his hand. "Er . . .Harry Snape." Thus was the first time he actually introduced himself by his new last name, but it soon stopped being awkward once he'd said it.

"You come from Britain, right?" Neil queried. "Mia said you did, anyhow."

"Yeah."

"Whereabouts?"

Harry almost said Surrey, but caught himself in time, recalling that if he were living with Severus, he'd live in London, which was where Snape had grown up. "London. Least we used to, but now we live here, with my Aunt Relia, she's my dad's aunt really, and my great-aunt."

Neil nodded. "She tutored my brother in algebra and history last year when he fell and broke his leg." Then he slanted a glance at Harry's shirt, which had a small snitch embroidered on the left pocket, but it resembled a Muggle shirt enough that Severus said he could wear it. "You, uh, play Quidditch, Harry?" He asked as a kind of test, to see if Harry was a wizard, because he could barely sense the other's magical aura.

Harry nodded. "Back in my, uh, old school, I played on a House team."

"What position?"

"Seeker."

Neil smiled. "I used to be a Chaser, but I like playing Seeker better. You any good?"

Harry blushed. "Pretty good, I guess."

"He was great!" Mia chimed in. Both boys stared at her. "He won his House cup two times in a row."

"How do you know that, Mia?" asked Harry.

"Your dad told me."

Harry felt a sudden glow of pride, that Severus would actually tell someone about his son's Quidditch prowess. Especially when Harry always thought Snape could care less about the sport, much less recall any of Harry's achievements in it. Looked like his father had been paying attention after all.

Neil whistled. "Looks like you could give my brother some competition. Or me. Want to play one on one?"

Harry opened his mouth to accept, but then recalled that they were among Muggles. "Uh, Neil? How can we play Quidditch without Muggles seeing?"

"Easy. I'll just activate the Don't See Me wards around our backyard. Mike, that's my brother, set them up so he could practice with his friends and not be seen." Neil explained.

Harry's eyes gleamed. "Let me get my broom."

"Can I play too, Harry?" Mia queried.

Harry looked down at his little cousin. "Uh, you're too little to fly my broom right now by yourself, kid. But I'll take you flying later, okay?"

Mia pouted. "Why not now?"

"‘Cause who's going to watch Rosie?" Harry indicated the puppy, who was sitting by their feet.

"Oh. Okay. But after you will?"

"Yeah."

"Promise?"

"Promise," Harry reassured her, knowing that this was a promise he could not break, since Aurelia had told him of the way her father always broke his promises, and Severus had told him quite firmly that any promise he made the child had to be kept.

Then he went to get his broom.

* * * * * *

Ten minutes later, Harry and Neil were flying in the air, chasing down the Snitch. Below them, Mia and Rosie were running, and when the two boys glanced down, they noticed the little beagle was pointing her head up into the wind and baying at them.

Harry wondered if the dog could see them, and deliberately swooped lower to find out.

Rosie went insane, barking and howling, trying to jump up at him.

Neil snorted, a very amused look on his face. "Looks like your dog wants to play too, Harry."

"Calm down, Rosie," ordered Harry, laughing. Then he soared up and away.

Rosie bayed hysterically, then dragged Mia across the yard after Harry, who was flying after the Snitch.

Neil and Harry tried to concentrate on catching the streaking golden ball, but the beagle's frantic pursuit of her flying master distracted them so much that they nearly fell off their brooms, they were laughing so hard.

When they finally landed, after Harry had managed to snag the winged globe, Rosie was panting and whining anxiously, Mia was gasping for breath, her hair sticking up. She glared at her cousin. "Harry! Don't do that anymore."

"Do what, Mia? Fly?" he asked, just as Rosie jumped all over him.

"Play that game. Rosie was very upset. She kept trying to get you down."

"Yeah we saw," Neil chuckled. "My dog Skip used to do that, till I made him a sling and put him in it so he could fly with me. Skip was an Alaskan Klee-Klai, like a mini husky." He held out his hands to show how small the dog was.

Harry gaped at him. "You took your dog flying?"

"Lots of times. He loved it."

Harry looked thoughtfully at his beagle. "Wonder if Rosie would?"

"Why not try it and see?" Neil suggested. Then he summoned the sling to him with a sharp snap of his fingers and a softly spoken "Accio Skip's sling!"

Harry's eyes widened. "You know how to cast spells without a wand?"

"Uh-huh. Why? Don't you?"

"Well, no, not really. That's real advanced magic where I come from."

"That's the only kind we do here," Neil informed him. "Only time we use a wand is if we've hurt our hand or need to focus precisely. Otherwise we use gestures, or sometimes if you're a master, all you need to do is think of a spell."

Harry raised an eyebrow. He'd never thought that wizards in the States had different methods of casting and wondered why no one had ever told him before. We learn about goblin wars and giants and centaur customs, but why didn't anybody bother telling us about the way wizards in different countries cast spells? That would've been a hell of a lot more interesting, not to mention more important.

Neil held out the sturdy blue sling, which looked rather like a baby sling, except it was designed to hold a small dog. "Here it is."

Harry took it and quickly scooped up Rosie and put her inside. She immediately began licking the boy's face. "Hey! Stop it!" He sputtered, fastening the sling about his neck. Then he mounted his broom and took off, flying only ten feet above the grass.

The beagle whined at first, then she settled down as Harry flew gently in a circle. Soon he went higher and faster. The beagle loved it, putting her nose in the wind, her ears flopping every which way.

Grinning, Neil mounted his broom and flew up beside him.

The two flew side by side, Rosie in her sling, barking in delight.

"Look, it's the flying beagle!" he cried and invited Harry to chase him.

They flew all over the backyard, and Rosie loved every minute of it. When Harry landed at last, the beagle looked disappointed. "Who would have thought of it? A beagle that loves flying?"

"Well, Harry, she is your beagle," giggled Mia. "Now it's my turn."

Harry handed Rosie to Neil and took Mia up in front of him, as he had promised.

When Severus came outside a few minutes later to see what the kids were doing, he found all of them flying around the MacIntyre's backyard, Mia on Harry's broom and Rosie with Neil. It was quite an amazing sight, the little girl and the beagle, soaring through the sky, laughing and barking in utter delight.

Severus smiled, pleased with how well things had worked out. It looked like his son had made a new friend, and while he knew this one wouldn't replace his other good friends, Ron and Hermione, at least Harry was no longer alone with only adults for company.

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.

"Hey, Dad?"

Severus looked up from the potion he was brewing. It was a Strengthening Solution, and for a moment, all of his attention was riveted on giving the mixture two clockwise and four counterclockwise stirs. The number and direction of the stirring was important, since a potion must be agitated correctly in order to achieve precise results.

Therefore, Severus didn't even glance up when he heard Harry's voice beside him. "What is it, Harry? I'm busy, as you can see."

"Sorry, but, uh, I just wanted to ask you something."

"And what would that be?" Severus never stopped stirring the solution, but he did tilt his head slightly, so his son would know he was listening.

"Um . . .well, since it's been a week after you grounded me and I haven't gotten into trouble since then . . ." his son began hesitantly.

"Spit it out, Harry," Severus ordered, a bit more sharply than normal. "What do you want?"

"To sleep over Neil's house tonight." Harry finished, panting slightly at finally getting the words out.

"Because?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, is it a special occasion, like his birthday, Harry? Because if so you'll have to get him a present."

"Oh. No, Dad, it's nothing like that. It's just a sleepover. Neil already asked his mom and dad and they said it was okay." Harry persuaded.

Severus considered while he finished making the draft, only answering his son when he was done and the potion was sealed in a glass bottle.

"Very well. You may stay over," Severus began and Harry whooped in glee. Until his father held up a hand. "However, you will promise me that you will behave respectably towards the adults, and I'll be speaking to Neil's parents as well. And you will also complete the list of chores I left for you on the kitchen table, Harry."

"Then I can go?"

Severus nodded. "Oh, one more thing. Tell Neil I've changed his potions lesson from three to four today, I've too much to brew to get it all done by three."

"All right. And thanks a lot, Dad!" Harry turned and bolted up the stairs. Neil had private lessons with Severus in potions, but not because he was abysmal. No, Neil was great at them and wanted to study with a Potions Master, and so Severus had agreed to give him advanced lessons.

Severus sighed and rolled his eyes as his son thundered up the stairs. Teenagers! Couldn't they ever walk normally? Although he had to admit, Neil MacIntyre was an exceedingly smart wizard, one that Sev would be happy to take as his personal apprentice once he completed his seven years with Mr. Thurgood.

The Potions Master finished decanting his solution, then locked up his lab and went to make a quick phone call to Neil's mother, Annie, reassuring himself that it was all right for Harry to stay over, etcetera. Since the MacIntyres were Muggles, Severus didn't reveal that he was a wizard to them, they thought he used to be a chemistry professor for a posh English boarding school. Neil had told him that his parents accepted the fact that their two sons were into "all that hocus pocus junk", but Severus still didn't feel comfortable revealing the fact that he was a wizard to them. So he was just Harry's father, as far as they knew.

• * * * * * *

Harry was quite excited at the prospect of spending the whole evening over his friend's house, there was always something interesting going on there. Neil's older brother Mike had several friends who came over on a regular basis, and they enjoyed a good game of Quidditch and a good time. He quickly rushed into his room and threw some clothes and a toothbrush into a small backpack, leaning the bag next to his broom. Then he went to the living room fireplace and firecalled his friend to tell him the good news and that the time of his lesson had changed.

• * * * * * *

"I'm glad to see Harry getting out a bit more, Sev," Aurelia said when they were eating lunch together in the kitchen. "Boys his age need to socialize, otherwise they turn into grumpy smartmouthed brats."

"Yes," Severus agreed, thinking how sulky Harry had been of late. Of course part of that was probably due to the fact that Severus had made him miss the big game, but afterwards he'd noticed a change in the boy's attitude, which was why he was allowing his son to stay over the MacIntyres.

Rosie whimpered at his feet, begging for scraps, and he petted the beagle absently. "Although there will be two someones who won't be happy Harry's leaving tonight."

Aurelia knew exactly whom he was speaking of. "Yes, well, Mia has to learn that Harry can't always be on hand to play with her and she can keep Rosie occupied and hopefully out of mischief." Mia was spending the night since both Devon and Melody would be out of town.

"Now that'd take a miracle, Aunt Relia," laughed her nephew quietly. He slipped the dog a piece of ham under the table.

"Severus, I saw that! You know table food is bad for dogs," Aurelia scolded.

"A little won't hurt," he argued, looking slightly ashamed at having been caught.

"You're turning her into a begging scamp, Sev."

"She already is that," Severus admitted, then smiled down at the little hound, who was now sitting and offering a paw, her large eyes pleading for another scrap of meat, bread, anything.

Aurelia just shook her head. "You and your son are two of a kind."

A gray owl flew in the kitchen window then, bearing a white envelope with the Hogwarts seal upon it. She landed right on Snape's shoulder and he gently took the envelope and fed her a piece of ham as well. She preened his hair then took the treat and flew off.

"Must be another forwarded letter from Poppy," mused the former professor, before he broke the seal and scanned the contents briefly.

Sure enough there was a short note from Poppy, saying that she'd forwarded this, and Severus ought to read it and not jump to conclusions, since she wouldn't have breached her confidentiality to just anyone.

Puzzled, Sev unfolded the parchment and saw that the letter was not from one of Harry's friends, but from one of his. Remus Lupin, werewolf and godfather to his namesake.

Dear Sev,

I know you and Albus had a rather nasty falling out and I'm sorry for it. I had rather been looking forward to you and I teaching together for the year. But I can understand your reasons for leaving once Poppy explained them and I just wanted you to know that I never remembered Harry as your son either. Turns out Lily placed a timed Memory Charm on me, she was a clever thing, and it's only worn off a few weeks ago.

It took me that long to persuade Warden Pomfrey to reveal your whereabouts. The woman's like a pit bull!

So I'm writing this letter asking if you'd like some company from an old friend, since I haven't been around much of late. Oh, and I'd like to see my godson too. The last memory I have of him was when he was two and had just written all over your potions text in red ink as well as himself. I'm sure he looks much different now.

Oh and I'm also bearing an olive branch from a certain meddling old coot.

Let me know when you'd like me to come over and I will.

Moony

"Is it good news, Sev?"

"Very good. Looks like Harry won't be the only one having a friend stay overnight." Then he added, "If it's all right with you?"

Aurelia waved a hand in dismissal. "Any friend of yours is a friend of mine. The more the merrier."

Severus quickly scribbled a reply and sent it off with Hedwig.

• * * * * *

After dinner, Harry asked his father if he could fly his broom over to Neil's house. "Harry, you know Neil lives in a Muggle neighborhood. It's best if Aurelia or I drive you."

"But Dad, you could cast a Don't See Me Charm over me and then you wouldn't have to drive," Harry pointed out.

"True, but Harry, I have to go and pick up Mia, so it'd be no trouble for me to drop you off at Neil's," Aurelia said. "Bring your broom along in the backseat."

"Okay, Aunt Relia," Harry agreed, not wanting to push the issue.

"Are you all packed, dear?"

The young wizard fought back a grin. Aurelia made it sound as if he were going to stay for a week. "Yes." He rose from his chair and began gathering up the plates and bringing them to the sink to wash.

Once that was done, Aurelia and Harry left for their respective destinations, leaving Severus alone to await Remus's arrival.

Severus seated himself on the couch in front of the fireplace, musing on how long it had been since he'd seen his friend. Nearly a year, since Remus was traveling about, he couldn't seem to keep a job more than a few months due to the werewolf prejudice. And Severus's own job as professor and spy kept him too busy to spare the time to go visit friends, even his oldest and best one. But they did keep in touch by post. Lily's death had created a great void, and their friendship did much to alleviate the pain her death had caused the both of them.

Severus checked his watch, Remus was due any minute now. He was traveling by Floo, like Severus and Harry had, since he couldn't Apparate such a long distance. Rosie jumped up on the couch and curled up next to the Potions Master. He stroked her soft fur and she snuggled, putting her little head on his knee. There were few dogs quite as loving and affectionate as beagles, Severus thought.

"You're lucky you're cute, puppy," murmured the tall man, rubbing her behind her ears now. "Otherwise I'd have made a rug out of your hide by now," he growled threateningly.

Rosie was not fooled by the seemingly harsh words though. She knew he was not serious and she loved and respected him as much as she did her boy Harry.

Suddenly, the puppy sat straight up on the couch and whimpered, looking at the fireplace.

A moment later, Professor Lupin stepped through the green flames and out of the fireplace.

"Hello, Sev. Long time no see, eh?"

Severus rose to greet his old friend, but Roise beat him to it. She frisked up to the newcomer, wrinkling her nose. The man smelled different, like ashes and some other scent that she wasn't familiar with, a dangerous scent, like a mad alpha. She inhaled sharply, then backed away, whining and growling a little.

"Rosie!" Snape scolded, eyeing the puppy sternly.

"Don't blame her, Sev. Most dogs don't care for werewolves, the bloodlust scent must still cling to me." Remus was dressed in a pair of blue trousers and a matching shirt. He looked the same as always, save the gray in his hair was more pronounced. The werewolf eyed his friend, noting that Severus seemed more relaxed and the lines in his face left by Lily's death had been smoothed over, he looked better than he ever had. "Looks like fatherhood agrees with you, Sev."

"It always did," said the other man. He caught the other in a rough embrace. "It's good to see you again, Remus. Are the brats driving you up the wall yet?"

Remus laughed at the Potion Master's description of the students. "I've been tempted by a few of them to turn furry and scare the blazes out of them. Especially the third period Gryffindor-Slytherin class. Bloody hell, Severus, but they bicker like cats and dogs."

"Tell me about it."

"I don't understand why Albus pairs them together, he knows what they're like."

"I asked him about that once," Severus said sourly, taking a seat on the couch and beckoning Remus to do the same. The werewolf set down his bag and came over. "He told me that you learn a lot from your adversaries that way. Personally, I think he just loves to drive his staff insane and see if they crack under the pressure."

"Well, so far I've been holding up, but holy Merlin, some days I just want to bang their little heads together."

"Believe me, Moony, I know the feeling," said Severus emphatically. "And then you get to have the joy of trying to read their atrocious handwriting on your homework assignments and tests. I started taking points off because I couldn't read some of them."

Rosie sniffed around Remus's shoes, her tail slowly wagging, and then she sprang up on the couch and thrust her nose into his hand, asking to be petted. She had apparently decided that if Severus accepted this new person, she would also.

Remus stared at her in surprise. "Well, I'll be damned. First time a dog's done that in ages."

"That's Harry's beagle. She loves people and I guess beagles don't discriminate," Severus smiled. "I call her Rosie the Wrecker, because she can wreck your house in two minutes flat when she's bored. Right, terror?"

He rumpled Rosie's ears affectionately. The beagle gazed up at him adoringly.

Remus bit back a laugh, for the last time he'd seen that expression on a human face, it had been Severus's looking at Lily on their wedding day. "Speaking of Harry, where is he?"

"Over at a friend's house spending the night."

"You really have mellowed, Sev." Remus whistled. "I can remember a time when you wouldn't let Harry out of sight of the house. And here I find you actually let him sleep over a friend's house."

"He's thirteen now, Moony. Old enough not to need my constant supervision."

"You sure about that, Sev? When I look back on all the things we did when we were thirteen . . .we needed a zoo keeper, I think."

"Maybe Black did," Severus disagreed. "Harry's got more sense than he ever did, though. Black was all hormones and impulse at that age. But Harry thinks a bit before he acts. Sometimes."

"You know this means that one day you're going to have to reciprocate, Sev?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, now that Harry slept over his friend's, you're going to have to return the favor and have his friend sleep over here one night," Remus pointed out, his dark eyes dancing.

Severus stared at him in horror. "Oh, dear God, no!" He groaned. "Why did I ever tell him yes?"

Just then they heard the front door open and Mia and Aurelia came in.

Mia made a beeline for Severus. "Sev, guess what? I got a hundred on my reading test today and nobody else did!" She was waving the paper about triumphantly. "See? See?"

Severus reached out an arm and drew the excited child onto his lap. "Settle down now, hummingbird," he ordered, for Mia was fluttering just like one of the pretty birds. "Now let me see this test of yours, brilliant child."

He examined the test and coughed and then nodded in approval. "Well done, Mia."

She beamed. "Grandma says I'm the smartest five-year-old she's ever known."

"She's right," agreed her cousin.

"She gave me five bucks," Mia announced, then looked pointedly at her cousin.

Remus struggled not to laugh, smothering his chuckle behind his hand. Clearly the child knew just how to wrap the supposedly strict teacher about her little finger.

"Yes, well, that's what grandmothers do," Severus said, knowing exactly what the little girl was hinting at.

"How about cousins, Sev?"

"Umm . . ." Severus was at a loss for words, but then he rallied. "Tell you what, we'll go to Sundaes for ice cream, and you can have the biggest sundae they make."

"Awesome! Thanks, Sev." She threw her arms about his neck and hugged him. "When can we go?"

"In an hour or so." Severus held her for a moment, then he gently removed her arms from his neck and turned her on his lap to face Remus. "Mia, this is my best friend, Remus Lupin. He'll be visiting us for a few days. Can you say hello?"

"Hi, I'm Mia Barry. My mom and Sev are cousins and that makes me his cousin too," she explained to the lycanthrope. "How'd you get here, Mr. Lupin? I didn't see a car."

"Uh . . ." he glanced questioningly at Severus. Does she know about us? At the other's nod, he relaxed and replied, "I didn't need a car, Mia, since I used the Floo Network."

"Oh, you mean the fireplace. Sev told me about that one, only he said you don't really come down the chimney like Santa, just through green fire. So, you're a wizard too. So am I."

"I'm pleased to meet you, Mia." Remus shook her little hand. "You never told me you had a witch cousin this side of the Atlantic, Severus."

"That's because no one knew she was one until I came here. She's Muggleborn and they had no way of testing her," Severus explained.

"But Severus knew right away, just by looking at me."

"Wizard Sight, little one," Remus smiled. "We always know one of our own."

"Really? Then how come I didn't know until you told me?"

"Your magic isn't fully awake yet, Mia," explained Remus. "When it is, you can learn how to sense another wizard or witch."

"And talk to animals," Mia added. "Sev told me some witches can do that and I really want to." She reached out and hugged Rosie, who licked her. "Then I could have a real conversation with Rosie."

"That'll be real enlightening. The only thing on that one's mind is food and shredding things." Severus rolled his eyes. He set the little girl down. "Why don't you take Rosie for a walk around the yard, imp? Tire her out before she spies my new leather boots and decides to make them her lunch."

"Okay! I'll get the leash," Mia ran into the kitchen, calling, "Rosie, want to go outside for a walk?"

The word "walk" acted like an electric shock. The beagle bounded up off the couch and tore off into the kitchen, baying happily.

Then Aurelia came in to greet her new houseguest and offer some refreshments. One pot of tea and some delicious home-made peach cranberry biscuits later, the adults were quite comfortable together, playing a card game called 65 on the kitchen table.

Severus examined his hand of cards and discarded one, hoping his son was behaving himself at the MacIntyre's.

It started out as a simple slumber party, just Neil and Harry and Mike and two of his friends, Rick and Arthur. Mrs. MacIntyre had gotten chips and dip, made a seven-layer taco dip, pizza bagels and bought five different kinds of ice cream, toppings, and waffle bowls. Neil said they could also have all the Coke they wanted or iced tea if they preferred.

They were just setting up for a rousing game of Quidditch when Mrs. MacIntyre announced that she and her husband were going out to dinner and a meeting with some clients and would be back at twelve. "Now, Mike, that means you're in charge while we're gone. You know the rules, no wild parties-"

"No drinking and no running naked through the streets, yeah, I know, Mom," finished her elder son. "Don't worry, I've got it all under control and we won't embarrass the neighbors." He aimed a friendly cuff at Neil's head. "Right, brat?"

Neil rolled his eyes. "Right. We'll behave, Mom."

But as soon as they were gone, Mike, who was a dark blond and had shifty blue eyes, reminding Harry a little of Draco Malfoy, smirked at his friends and said, "They'll be gone for at least five hours, the restaurant they're going to is forty-five minutes from here. So we'll have time to have a little fun while they're out." His two friends exchanged glances of forbidden delight. "But first, we'll play a bit of Quidditch." He looked at Harry. "Snape, you used to play for one of them fancy Brit academies, right?"

"I was a Seeker for my House team."

"Whatever. Now you can be Seeker for my team." Mike declared.

"Mike, Harry's my friend, not yours," Neil began angrily.

"Shut up, squirt, or else Mom and Dad are going to find themselves with a new lawn gnome," growled his brother. "I'm in charge and that means I get to say what goes. And right now, Snape's my Seeker."

Neil glared at his brother, but Mike cuffed him smartly about the head when the younger wizard leveled a finger at him. "Hex me, kid, and you'll be the sorriest little brother in the US."

"Like I'm not already," growled the younger MacIntyre. He looked helplessly at Harry.

Harry knew he could always refuse to play on Mike's team, but he had a funny feeling that if he refused, then he wouldn't be allowed to play at all, and he had been looking forward to a decent game for a week, ever since he'd missed the Alpha vs. Starseeker match. He wondered what was up with the older boy, normally Mike was not quite so overbearing. Harry supposed it might have had something to do with his friends being over. Malfoy had been like that, putting on a big show when he had Crabbe and Goyle nearby.

"Okay. Here's how we break this up," Mike declared. "I'm Captain and Chaser, Arthur, you're Keeper, Snape's Seeker, Neil you're the other Captain, and Rick you're the Beater for Neil's team."

Harry was puzzled. "But Mike, there's not enough people on each team for a game. How can we play?"

"That's easy. We'll play against our doubles." He waved a hand and a mirror version of each of them appeared. Mike caused two of Rick to appear so each team would have two Beaters, and doubled himself as well so they could have three Chasers. "Mirror Image spell. Illusions that look like you, sound like you, and sometimes react like you. We'll just make them wear different color robes. They'll last an hour or so." He summoned the Quidditch box where the balls and bats were stored. "C'mon, let's go."

They played for an hour and Harry had to admit it was weird seeing his mirror image flying along racing to catch the Snitch. Still, he knew how to concentrate and he soon caught the winged globe after forty-five minutes.

Then the game was over and Mike's team had won. "Not bad, Snape," said Rick. "You ought to try out for one of the varsity teams around here. You could make big bucks."

Harry shrugged, for making a lot of money had never appealed all that much to him. He had his legacy from James, after all, and his dad wasn't exactly strapped for cash either.

"Enough chitchat," Mike said. "We need to start making the food and the punch." He pointed at Neil. "Yo, little brother, that's your job."

Neil scowled. "What do you think I am, your house elf?"

"Now you're seeing the light. While you're doing that, I'm going to write a letter and then duplicate it. Radar! Where are you, you lazy bird?"

A rather old snowy owl flew out from a tree and landed softly on Mike's arm. The teenager strode inside, leaving Neil and Harry to stare after him.

Neil muttered some choice swear words before following the rest of them inside. "Harry, you know how to use an oven, right?"

Harry nodded.

"Good. Then you start on the snacks and I'll make the punch."

"What punch?"

"It's a kind my mom makes for parties. It has ginger ale, champagne wine cooler and frozen strawberries and peaches. It's really good. You can drink cupfuls and not get drunk, since it has such a low alcoholic content."

"And you learned how to make it from her?"

"Uh-huh. I watched her for as long as I could remember. It's not hard."

"Who was your brother sending letters to?"

"Nobody important. Just his friends. Probably inviting them over too."

"But didn't your dad say you could only have three friends over since they wouldn't be home?"

"Sure he did, but Mike's a teenager and of age, he breaks their rules when he feels like it."

Harry was starting to get an unusual feeling of discontent in the pit of his stomach. "These friends of his, they're wizards like us, right Neil?"

"Uh, yeah, most of them are. The few that aren't have brothers and sisters who are." He summoned the rest of the ingredients and began making the requested punch.

Harry went and got some more snacks out of the freezer. It looked like Mike was determined to have a party, come hell or high water.

• * * * * *

Ten minutes later, the friends Mike had written to began to arrive. Some of them Apparated, others used the Floo or came by broomstick. They were anywhere between sixteen and seventeen and they weren't all boys either. There were a fair number of girls too, all dressed casually in jeans skirts and tops that had revealing necklines.

One of the teenagers charmed a guitar and a set of drums and a microphone to play music. Heavy metal rock began blasting, making the windows shake.

The rest of them cheered. There were about twenty or twenty-five teenagers at the house, and Harry was sure more kept arriving every minute. He was kept busy making snacks and Neil placed the ones that were done on trays and the food disappeared in seconds. Harry felt like he was feeding a hoard of starving dragons. Not to mention this was not what he'd been expecting when he had agreed to sleep over Neil's.

"Does your brother do this a lot?" Harry queried, nearly having to scream over the music and the teenagers talking.

Neil shook his head. "Well, only when he's sure Mom and Dad are gonna be away for at least four hours. Technically he's an adult in the wizarding world, but my parents are Muggles and they don't go by that. An adult to them is over twenty-one, with a full time job and legal to drive, vote, and drink." He groaned. "I just hope nothing gets broken, like the last time."

Harry stared as a slender girl wearing nothing but a turquoise bikini strode to the center of the living room, snapped her fingers, and a table appeared. She then climbed on it and proceeded to sway and glide to the music in such a way that made Harry's heart begin to beat faster and his throat dry up. She was curved lushly, her hair flowed about her like waves of dark silk, and her face was the kind a man dreamed of, but never found in real life.

"Uh . . .Neil, who's that?" he pointed to the girl twirling and dancing. "She's . . .wow!"

Neil smirked. "Yeah, Aliyah's one hot babe, no? That's cause she's half-dervish."

"Half dervish?"

"Uh-huh. You know, a dervish is a fae species that lives to uh, drive men insane with their dancing and uh . . .you know . . .sex . . ." Neil's face was bright red. "But Aliyah's only a half-dervish, so she doesn't have the full effect." He swallowed hard. "Except when she's dancing."

Harry could certainly agree with that. All the males in the room were practically on the floor at her feet, while the girls were ignoring her or glaring at her with undisguised loathing. None of that seemed to bother Aliyah, who simply continued dancing, rotating her hips in a way Harry had always thought anatomically impossible.

"Neil, is she like, uh, Mike's girlfriend?"

Neil nearly choked on his pizza bagel. "Aliyah? Oh hell, no! If she was, Mike would be the luckiest guy on the planet as well as the one with the most death threats, since every man over the age of twelve automatically desires the dervish-born. No, Aliyah's not anybody's girlfriend, at least not that I know of."

Harry began to sample a few of the snacks while they were engrossed with Aliyah. He wasn't really hungry, since Aurelia had made an excellent dinner, but he figured he might as well eat something.

Neil brought him some taco dip and Tostidos from the table and a large cup of punch. Harry sipped the punch cautiously, but found it tasted delicious, sweet and fruity. "Hey, this is really good."

"Told you so," Neil looked smug. "Everybody likes Mom's punch. And the best part is, you can't get sloshed drinking it." He fetched himself another cup with a wave of his hand and drank it down. "C'mon, Harry. This is getting boring. Let's go upstairs and watch a movie or something. You've got SuperNintendo, right? Ever play Donkey Kong Country II?"

Harry quickly turned off the oven, all the frozen pizza bagels and cocktail franks were gone, and there was nothing else for him to make the horde of teenagers. Plus, he was sick of being Mike's personal chef, he'd had enough of that sort of treatment back when he lived with the Dursleys.

Time to beat a strategic retreat.

He swiftly followed Neil upstairs.

• * * * * * *

Two hours later, the party was still going strong, and one of Mike's friends had decided to liven it up even more by spiking the mild punch with a bottle of Buzz, which was the local slang for firewhiskey laced with a spell that made it ten times more potent than normal, it made you drunk almost immediately.

Mike didn't realize the punch was spiked until he drank some, and by then he was too sozzled to care. So was most anyone else. Only those who stuck to the soda and iced tea or had their punch before it had been doctored were unaffected.

As a result, the party grew louder and wilder, spilling out of the house and into the backyard, much to the annoyance of their next door neighbor, a crotchety old lady named Mrs. Elms.

She yelled out her kitchen window for them to tone it down, and received several catcalls, a finger, and was told to shut the hell up like the old bat she was. "Go back to bed, Grandma, and dream of the days when your husband was still alive and you were hot," shouted one obnoxious teenage boy with spiked green hair.

Mrs. Elms was incensed at the utter disrespect and rudeness. The nerve of those brats, disturbing her weekend movie night with their noise and partying. She had always said that the MacIntyre kids would be trouble one day and now she had been proven right. She didn't have to be a rocket scientist to know what was going on over there. An unsupervised party rife with drugs, sex, and alcohol.

"You kids better tone it down," she yelled. "Or else you're gonna be sorry!"

"Oh blow it out your ass, Grandma!"

Mrs. Elms gasped in fury. Then she slammed the window shut, her old wrinkled face bright with indignation. That did it, she was going to teach those impertinent whelps a lesson once and for all.

• * * * * *

Meanwhile, Harry and Neil could barely concentrate on their game with the bass pounding from the enchanted rock band downstairs and all the cheering and yelling going on. Neil was growing annoyed at the constant noise and said he was going downstairs to get some more punch and when he came back he was going to cast a Silencing spell about the room so they wouldn't have to hear any more of the celebration down below.

Harry simply nodded and wished he could cast that spell, he'd have done it already, his eardrums were taking a pounding. Five minutes went by and Neil didn't return. Frowning, Harry wondered what was keeping him. He waited ten more minutes, then decided to go down and see what was keeping his friend. Maybe Mike had commandeered him into cooking some more food or making more punch.

But when he reached the living room, Neil was nowhere in sight, in fact Harry couldn't even find Mike among the press of teens. But he did spot the punch bowl on the table. It was nearly empty and only one lone plastic cup remained.

Harry was thirsty and the punch he'd had before tasted great, so he grabbed the cup and filled it before any of the others noticed. Then he retreated to a semi-quiet corner near the front door and sipped it.

The punch tasted odd on his tongue. It was not quite as sweet, it burned the back of his throat. He coughed sharply, feeling a strange heat in the pit of his stomach. That's weird. I don't remember it tasting like this before. Maybe it tastes different when it sits there. He fished out a peach from the cup and ate it, not realizing that the fruit had been fermenting in the firewhiskey-laced punch for hours and was extremely potent.

Mmm. Now that's more like it. Sweet and . . .and . . .

He couldn't think of a word to describe the other flavor, it was dark and rich and it made him feel all warm inside. Harry took another gulp of the punch. It suddenly was very hot in here. He waved a hand in front of his face, trying to cool off.

He wondered where Neil was. They had been going to play . . . something . . .but now Harry was hot and his head was spinning . . .He decided to go outside for a breath of fresh air. Maybe Neil had done the same thing. The loud music was starting to make his head throb and he felt slightly ill.

He set the empty punch glass on the table and opened the front door. For some reason the autumn breeze felt deliciously cool on his face. He gasped, blinked, his eyes weren't working too well either, he kept seeing doubles of everything, and staggered down the stairs and onto the lawn.

In his inebriated state, Harry had no idea what he was doing or where he was going. He simply kept walking, trying to clear his head of the odd fuzziness, wondering why it was that his feet seemed determined to go in opposite directions.

His stomach felt weird, not quite nauseous, but getting there, and instinctively he sought the one person he trusted to make it better-his father. But his father was home, a part of his brain reminded him. So Harry turned his steps towards what he thought was his home, wandering down the street in a perfect drunken stagger.

Little did he know that the angry Mrs. Elms had called the police to complain about the wild party going on next door, and they were quick to respond, for teenage drinking had become a serious problem that they wished to nip in the bud.

A patrol car drove down the street, siren wailing, to pull up at the MacIntyre's driveway. The policeman didn't notice Harry walking alongside the street, almost to the intersection of the main road, totally not paying attention to his surroundings.

But a second patrol car came after the first, and this one spotted the thirteen-year-old weaving towards the busy intersection and pulled over. "Hey! Hey, kid! Where do you think you're going? You want to get run over?"

Harry looked up blearily. A hand suddenly fell on his shoulder. His befuddled green eyes encountered a strange man in a uniform. "Who're you, sir?" he asked, but it came out all slurred.

"You okay, kid?" the officer asked, peering at the boy sharply. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were three sheets to the wind, kid." He leaned down and sniffed, wrinkling his nose at the alcohol coming off Harry's breath. "Lord, kid, what've you been up to? You're too young to be drinking like this. How many did you have?"

Harry tried to make sense of that question. How many what did he have? Pizza bagels? Or glasses of punch? "Two. Jus' two."

"Two drinks?" repeated the officer in disbelief. "That's not enough to get you sloshed like this, unless you were drinking 150 proof." He took Harry's chin firmly in his hand. He had a daughter at home this one's age, he thought sadly. "What's your name, son? And where were you served the two drinks you had?"

"Harry . . .m'name's Harry Snape . . ."

"Okay, Harry. Now where were you tonight?"

His head spun crazily and for a moment he couldn't remember. He'd been flying, on a broomstick, at . . .his friend's house. "I was. . .at m'friend's . . .staying over . . .my dad said it was all right . . ."

"Who gave you the drinks?"

"Dunno. . ."

The policeman sighed. Clearly, the child was too drunk to give him answers to his questions, though he had a pretty good idea of where the kid had gotten the alcohol. The complaint had come from a house down this street, he'd probably been at that party. The officer debated on whether or not to go and help his partner corral the drunken teens, then decided his first priority was getting this one home safely.

He radioed for back up, then took the youngster by the shoulder and said, "Where were you going, son?"

"Home, sir."

"Good. That's where you should be. I'm Officer Downes, by the way. I'm a policeman. Would you like me to escort you home, Harry?" It was a rhetorical question, for Downes had no intention of allowing the boy out of his sight.

Harry thought for a minute. His brain was still fuzzy, but when he looked at the man in the blue uniform he felt a bit safer. "Okay."

"Hop in the car here," Downes said, gesturing to the black and white. "Where do you live?"

Harry bit his lip, sliding into the leather seat. Where did he live?

"Harry. Can you remember the name of your street?"

Slowly, Harry nodded. "It's . . .Whispering Winds Drive. . .on the bay. My aunt lives with us . . .55 Whispering Winds Drive . . ."

"Thanks, kid." Downes quickly ran the address through his police scanner and came up with a match, the house was owned by one Aurelia Prince-Burns, wife of a deceased Air Force Major, a private business consultant.

He glanced over at the dark-haired child, who appeared to have passed out. Downes shook his head. This kid had gotten himself mixed up with a bad crowd, sure enough. "Okay, Harry. Time to get you home, and hopefully your father won't tan your hide the way mine would've if I'd come home drunk as a skunk at eleven o'clock at night accompanied by a police officer."

He began to drive slowly up the street and down the main road to the next development.

• * * * * * *

The doorbell rang just as Severus was getting a second cup of tea prior to sitting down with Remus and discussing the very unwelcome topic of Dumbledore, who had asked Remus to please convey a message to Severus on his behalf.

"Now who in God's name could that be at this hour?" muttered the Potions Master.

Aurelia had gone to bed, as had Mia, hours ago, and he didn't want anything to disturb their rest.

He strode to the door and pulled it open to see a uniformed Muggle policeman standing on the porch, one hand resting on his son's shoulder.

"Harry? What happened?"

"Are you Mr. Snape?" asked Downes.

"I am," answered the Potions Master. "Why have you brought my son home? Did something happen at the MacIntyres?"

"Uh, you could say that, Mr. Snape. I'm Officer Downes and I found your son Harry wandering down the street fifteen minutes ago. He apparently had a few drinks at a party-"

Severus gaped. "What party? Harry, you never told me about a party." He leaned down to cup his son's chin in his hand and wrinkled his nose at the familiar stale stench of hard liquor. He would know that smell anywhere, God knew he'd smelled it thousands of times before, when Tobias had come home from the pub.

Harry blinked woozily up at his father. "Dad?"

Severus's mouth tightened. "Thank you for bringing him home, Officer. I'll take care of it from here."

Harry wondered why his dad was looking at him that way . . .like he wanted to slap him into next week or use him for potion ingredients. He couldn't recall doing anything to make his dad so mad . . .

"You're welcome, Mr. Snape. Good night," and then the officer was gone, leaving Harry standing before a very irate potions professor.

"Harrison Remus Snape," growled his father, giving him a glare that should have roasted him. "Get your backside in the house this instant, young man. Move!"

Harry winced at the tone and volume of his dad's voice. It made his head hurt even more, and somehow he had a bad feeling that he was in serious trouble.

He felt Severus's hand on his shoulder, propelling him firmly inside.

Severus was mortified at his son, whom he'd just finished telling Remus was such a well-behaved child, now turning up at the front door looking like Tobias out on a drunken binge, and escorted home by a policeman, no less! He was torn between shaking the boy till his teeth rattled, asking for an explanation, and then grounding the brat till he was thirty or casting a sober-up spell on him, asking for an explanation, and then punishing him. He kept his hand on the boy's shoulder, all too aware that if he let go, Harry would probably fall to the ground, for he was swaying like a drunken sailor just off the boat.

But before Severus could ask his son what the blazes had happened, Harry passed out cold. Severus's lightning swift reflexes enabled him to catch the boy before he fell, lifting him into his arms, and walking rapidly towards Harry's room.

"Severus? Who was at the door?" Remus asked, coming into the hallway. He knew from experience that nighttime visits rarely boded any good.

"That was the police, Remus," said the Potions Master through gritted teeth. "Come to bring my son home from his-his drinking spree!"

Remus's mouth fell open. "Harry? My godson?"

"Yes, Lupin! Your bloody godson, the bloody supposed savior of the wizarding world, is now passed out dead drunk in my arms," growled Severus, holding out his comatose child for Remus's inspection.

"Dear Merlin, Sev! Did you find out where he was?"

"No, Moony, because he passed out before I could question him. He was supposed to be sleeping over a friend's house, not attending some drunken party," gritted a very irate Snape. He cast a withering glance at his sleeping offspring, who was snoring lightly, a rather stupid smile on his face. Severus was tempted to smack him one, the irresponsible brat. "If I find out that he lied to me and snuck out of the MacIntyres' to go to some-some party, I'm going to wallop his arse good, I swear it." Color flushed the older wizard's cheekbones. "I'll be damned if I'm going to raise Tobias Snape Junior."

"Take it easy, Severus," Remus said, putting a soothing hand on his arm. "Before you condemn the kid for his actions, talk to him first. Perhaps there's a decent explanation for this. I mean, he's only thirteen, and this is the first time this has happened, right?"

"Yes, as far as I'm aware." Severus entered Harry's bedroom and laid the sleeping teen on his bed, waving his wand and removing his clothes, then replacing them with pajamas. He gently drew the covers up over the slumbering Harry, who was snoring loudly.

"You going to cast a Sober Charm on him, Sev? Or make him up a Hangover Cure?"

Severus considered for about two seconds then said with an evil smirk, "No. I think it best if he suffers the consequences of his actions. Maybe that will teach him a lesson about drinking to excess. Or at all, for that matter."

Remus winced. "Ouch, Sev. That's harsh."

"Sometimes experience is the best teacher, Moony. As you know perfectly well."

Remus suppressed a shudder. "Now why did you have to go and remind me? I really wanted to forget that time Sirius and James persuaded me to try Black Firewhisky straight up." The werewolf shook his head ruefully, then conjured a basin with his wand. "He'll be needing this when he wakes up, if I remember my morning after correctly."

"No doubt," Severus said sourly, recalling all the times he'd had to clean up after his father the next morning. He'd never expected to be doing the same for his thirteen-year-old son. "You'd better have a very good explanation for this, Harry Remus, or else your backside is going to regret it."

Remus cast him a reproving look. "I hardly think walloping the daylights out of him is going to cure his drinking problem, Sev."

" He doesn't have a drinking problem, Moony!" snapped Severus, going pale. "At least I don't believe so," he muttered. He prayed God that was the case, that his son had not inherited Tobias's weakness for strong drink. "I think this is just a case of-of teenage experimentation, or whatever they call it these days."

"Peer pressure," supplied Lupin. "Rather like what Lucius Malfoy pulled on you sixth year, Sev."

Now it was the Potion Master's turn to blush in shame. "Don't remind me, Remus. I was a stupid sheep and I paid for it. I knew better than to touch a drop of alcohol given my bloody father's track record."

"Lucius was a slick bastard, wasn't he? Leading you down the garden path like that. Wasn't that where you got that snake tattoo on your-?"

"Moony! Just shut up!" Severus shouted, his face flaming. "There was only one time I chose to drink myself senseless, and didn't have somebody doctoring my pumpkin juice, and I'm sure you can figure out when that was."

"When Lily was killed."

"Yes. And I would've stayed drunk forever, if it had helped any, but it didn't, because when I came back to myself I felt even worse. Severus Snape doesn't drown his sorrows. And neither will my son, if I have anything to say about it."

He left the room, Remus at his heels.

They returned to the den, where their tea had gone cold. Remus heated it up again with a silent warming charm, then seated himself opposite his friend on the recliner. "Given what you told me about Harry's Muggle aunt and uncle, I think you'd be reluctant to lay a hand on him."

"I am, Moony." Severus sighed heavily. "The last time I turned him over my knee he was two and I felt guilty as hell afterwards, even though he deserved all seven swats."

"That was the time he pinched James's wand, right?"

"No. That time he broke one of my rare ingredients and lied to my face bold as brass. And there's nothing I detest more than a child who lies to get out of trouble. So, once I'd caught him out, he admitted it, and I spanked him. But I hated it."

"What parent doesn't?" Remus remarked. "I can recall my dad tanning my hide a time or two and he always held me and told me he was sorry afterwards, but it was for my own good. But I was ten last time that happened, and I didn't have Harry's history of abuse or age as a factor. Thirteen's a little too old to be spanked, Sev."

Severus scowled. "Yes, I know, and I really don't want to punish him that way. But I will if I find out he's lied to me, Remus, because that's the one thing I can't stand, and I'll deal with the guilt and tears afterwards." The dark eyes were shadowed by anxiety as he said that last, and Lupin found himself feeling sorry for the other man.

"Times like these, old friend, make me glad I never married and had kids. I'd never be able to discipline effectively."

"Oh? Then you don't discipline your students, professor?"

"Sure I do. Some of them got detention the first week in my class. But that's different. They're not my children and I don't feel guilty laying down the law to them. My own though . . .first time they cried, I'd be a basket case, Sev."

"You say that now, Moony," his friend smirked. "But I think if you needed to, you'd be able to discipline properly. You would just need the right motivation, like a brat snitching a wand for the thirtieth time and blowing a hole the size of London in your floor. When he was two, I thought that was the worst thing he would ever do. Now he's thirteen and gets himself arrested for underage drinking."

"The police arrested him?"

"No, not really, but they could've. It was quite obvious what he'd been doing." Severus grimaced. He put his head in his hands. "Lord above, why me? Why do I always get children who delight in making my life into a hurricane of trouble? First my students, now my son. God must have a wicked sense of humor."

"Either that or He thinks you can handle it, Sev. You know the old saying . . ."

"Mmm. God never sends you burdens you can't bear. I think He was misinformed."

"I don't," Remus said quietly. "You'll make the right decision, Sev. You usually do. You're a better father than Tobias, Potions Master."

"Remus, a mouse would be a better father," snorted his friend. "That's not hard to do. Ah, Merlin save me, I'll worry about that tomorrow morning, when he's coherent enough to hold a conversation with, which won't be until two hours after he wakes up."

"Two hours?"

Severus nodded knowingly. "Yes, because by then he'll have quit vomiting and his head will have stopped pounding somewhat, enough so he can sit up and talk. Then we'll see what happens afterwards."

"I plead for clemency, Judge," said Remus.

"You'd have made a great defense attorney, Lupin."

"Funny, I did think about going into law at one time. That was before I learned that the Ministry forbade werewolves from holding such positions, saying our reputations would prevent us from getting clients."

"Bigoted bunch of arseholes," murmured Snape angrily.

"Their loss, my gain," shrugged the werewolf. "Now at least the students at Hogwarts have a Defense teacher better than that fop Lockhart. Losing his memory was the best thing that ever happened to him, not to mention the rest of us."

Severus drank the rest of his tea. "I heard from Mr. Weasley that you've got them practicing boggart repelling charms."

"Yes, we did that my third lesson and I had some interesting results." Lupin chuckled. "Did you know you're the Longbottom boy's worst nightmare?"

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Really? I had no idea my scoldings frightened the scatterbrain so effectively. He still hasn't managed to go for a day in my class without spilling, dropping, or exploding something. I swear, Lupin, someday he would've been the death of me."

Lupin laughed at the mere idea of the quivering Neville being the death of his formidable friend. "I highly doubt that, Sev. You're a survivor. Like your son. Albus tells me he's already survived a second encounter with You-Know-Who and a basilisk too."

Severus's expression darkened. "Yes, but that was danger he never should have been in, Remus. He's got an impulsive streak the size of the Atlantic, and Albus bloody encouraged it, the meddling old coot. He thinks that Harry is the one to fulfill that bloody prophecy Trelawney uttered when she had too much sherry one evening at the Hogs Head."

"Then you don't believe she saw true?"

"I could care less!" spat the dark-haired wizard. "No one is going to make my child into a bloody hero without his and my consent. And I'll never give it. He's too young to place that kind of burden on him, and every hero I've ever read about dies too damn young! I lost the one I loved best once, Moony, I'll be damned if I'm going to live through that again. And you can tell the Old Meddler I said so!"

"He knows that, Sev," said the lycanthrope gently. "But he says that in the end that choice is not yours to make."

"Is it not?" snarled the Potions Master. "Harry is my responsibility until he comes of age and I won't permit him to be a pawn of prophecy. Albus can have his savior when hell freezes over and not a minute before. No son of mine is going to die a hero."

"What about live as one?"

Severus raked the other man with a glare that could've shredded him. "Please, Remus. Just let it go. Was that all he sent you to say?"

"No. He also wanted to apologize for his mistake in not giving you back your memories and your son as Lily wished. He said it was one of his greatest regrets and he hopes one day you might forgive him. You and Harry both."

"When hell freezes over," came the grudging reply. "All the regret in the world can't give me back those lost years, Moony. Eleven years my son lived in hell when he could have grown up loved and happy with me. Eleven years! And he thinks a few words will mend it? I tell you now, Remus, that I might forgive the old fool if he begged Harry's and my pardon on bended knee in front of the entire staff and student body of Hogwarts, humbled himself publically and admitted he was wrong, but I doubt he would ever do so. Perhaps for Harry he might, he's always had a soft spot for him, but me, the Slytherin shadow? Never!"

"You're selling yourself short, Sev. I think Albus really cares for you."

"Oh he does, the way a farmer cares for the scythe he wields or the hoe he uses. I was a useful tool, nothing more."

Remus shook his head, knowing that Severus was not yet ready to hear the truth, that the old wizard had broken down and wept at the way he had treated the Head of Slytherin, that he had told Remus he loved Severus like his son and had been afraid to admit it given Severus's past experience with fathers. Remus knew that the wounds Dumbledore had caused were still too fresh, too raw, for Severus to accept that particular truth, but perhaps someday the stubborn wizard might be willing to listen.

"I'd never think of you that way, Severus Snape."

"Nevertheless, it was so. I allowed myself to be manipulated," the other admitted softly. "I was young and foolish then, lost without Lily, missing half my memories and my son. But never again." His mouth twisted bitterly. "Anything else?"

"Only that he hoped Harry was recovering from his magical loss. Oh and Poppy says to tell you to stop giving Harry the Nutrient Potion now, he's probably gained all the necessary amino acids and such back by now."

"I figured as much and I already took him off it."

"She also says to tell you that she misses you and you owe her a letter."

"Humph! Does the blasted woman think I've nothing better to do all day than write her letters about me? I've got more orders than I can handle with my mail order potions catalog, so I've been brewing nonstop, and hardly have time to label everything, much less pen letters to that interfering old busybody."

"I'll be sure and tell her that, Sev."

"You do and I'll throttle you, Lupin," he threatened.

The clock struck twelve thirty.

Yawning, Severus stood up. "Well, I'm for bed. I'll need sleep if I'm to deal with my son tomorrow."

"I think I'm going to lie in tomorrow," teased Lupin. "That way I'll miss all the shouting and tears."

"Like hell you will, wolf. I'm going to need you here to prevent me from going ballistic. Since Lily isn't here, you get to play her role."

"Fine, but from what Sirius told me, she had as fiery a temper as you sometimes, and she was no slouch at discipline either. I heard she once threatened to spank James for letting Harry get away with murder."

"Actually, she threatened to have me spank him, because he stupidly left his wand out where a two-year-old imp could snatch it."

"Merlin, but I'm sorry I missed that one!" laughed the werewolf. "Fine, Sev. I'll be up tomorrow making sure you don't kill my godson. At least not till we've been properly introduced," he added with a Snape-like smirk.

The Potions Master chuckled softly and departed to his bedroom for some much needed sleep. Tomorrow's dawn was sure to be memorable and unpleasant for one or more of them.

• * * * * * *

Harry awoke feeling as if several trolls wielding spiked clubs had taken up residence inside his skull. For one moment he opened his eyes and the light from the dimly lit lamp was so bright he was blinded. He quickly squinched his eyes shut with a groan.

Then the trolls began to tap dance in his head and he rolled over, trying to shut them out.

Big mistake.

The movement reminded his stomach that it was very upset and he opened his eyes, looking frantically for something to vomit in. The silver basin caught his eye and he grabbed it just in time.

For several awful minutes he was sure he was going to die. But at last his stomach decided it was going to stay inside of him and stopped trying to crawl out his throat.

Suddenly he felt a hand on the back of his neck, lifting his face and wiping it with a cool wet cloth. The same hand put a glass to his lips and he rinsed his mouth with water. "Better now?"

Harry nodded briefly, then winced when the movement made his head throb. He should have known his father would be there, he always seemed to know when Harry was sick.

Severus banished the contents of the basin and helped his son lie back on the pillow. He placed the cool cloth over Harry's forehead and said calmly, "And this, young man, is what happens when you drink too much. Alcohol is like poison and makes you very ill as a consequence."

Harry squinted and could just make out the blurry dark shape that was his father. "Is that why I'm so sick?" he whispered.

"How much do you remember about last night?"

Harry tried to think, but his head hurt. "M'head hurts . . ." he whimpered.

"It usually does the morning after, son. Lie still and shut your eyes. It'll pass soon enough," Severus directed coolly.

Harry obeyed, wondering at the tone in his parent's voice. It fairly dripped disapproval. But the aching in his head occupied him for a time and he could not collect his thoughts. What had happened last night? Something had, for he was home and not at Neil's the way he was supposed to be.

Severus moved silently and seated himself in a chair not far from the bed, observing the pale figure of his son unseen. At first he had intended to let the boy suffer the consequences of his poor choice alone, but found he couldn't watch impassively when it came to his own child and so he had come in with a cool cloth to assist Harry once he'd stopped throwing up.

He'd spoken in barely a whisper, knowing that was all Harry's sensitive ears would tolerate. He watched for several more minutes, relieved to see the lines of pain smooth out from the young wizard's face, yet angry at what had caused them.

Harry relaxed as the trolls in his head decided to take a break and rest, allowing him to recall bits and pieces of what had happened last night. He had been at Neil's, the MacIntyres had gone out for dinner, leaving Mike in charge and Mike had decided to have a party. But Harry couldn't recall any alcohol being served. And Neil had made the punch and they'd both drank it before and hadn't gotten drunk. But the last time . . .the punch had tasted off . . .but he'd been thirsty . . .and then there had been that nice police officer, who'd taken him home . . .and his dad had been furious and Harry couldn't remember what else happened, he must have fallen asleep.

Suddenly he heard Mia's soft piercing voice ask, "What's wrong with Harry, Severus? Is he sick?"

"Yes, Mia. Harry's not feeling very well this morning."

"Oh. Are you gonna give him medicine? Will he be better tomorrow?"

"The only medicine he needs is time and quiet, little one. And he'll be better by this afternoon, I should think," answered Severus.

Harry was relieved to hear that, he hated being made to stay in bed, even when he was sick as a dog. Then again, perhaps the bed was safer, at least his father didn't seem to want to unleash his wrath on a sick child. But once Harry was well, he didn't doubt for a minute that he was now in the worst trouble he'd ever been in.

Suddenly he wished very hard to remain sick and so avoid facing his father's anger. But the trolls seemed to have settled down now and his headache was slowly ebbing.

He kept still though, and felt Severus remove the washcloth and apply a fresh one, it was wet and deliciously cool against his sweaty skin. He felt his dad wipe his face with another cloth, then draw away.

He feigned sleep for what he thought was quite a long time, but in reality was only about an hour or so. By then his head had stopped throbbing and no longer felt like it was going to fall off any minute now. His mouth tasted like an old dishrag, however, and he wished he dared open his eyes and see if his dad had left water beside the bed. His throat was parched and dry as the Sahara.

"How's the invalid?" asked an unfamiliar male voice.

"Feeling the aftereffects of last night very keenly," said Snape dryly.

"Ugh!" said the other voice with a touch of sympathy. "I almost feel sorry for him. Have you decided yet on a punishment, Sev?"

"No, because that will be based on what he tells me happened last night. I think he knows he ought to tell the truth, but if not, I can always remind him what lying will get him."

Harry tried frantically to recall what punishment his father had told him he would receive if he lied and couldn't remember. Then he recalled a very dim memory, back when he was a toddler, of touching a rare potion ingredient in his father's private lab and breaking it. When his dad had asked him who broke it, he had immediately said he didn't know.

"Are you sure, Harry?"

"Yes, Daddy. I not know nothin' ‘bout how that pretty bottle broke."

"Harry," his daddy knelt and looked him right in the eye, frowning sternly. "I'm going to ask you one more time and you'd better tell me the truth-did you touch my potion bottle?"

"Uh . . .no!"

His daddy shook his head, looking very disappointed and upset. "Harrison Remus Snape, now you and I both know that is a lie. You were the only one besides me home today and that bottle couldn't have fallen off the shelf by itself. Which means you took it down to look at it after I told you not to and dropped it. Isn't that right, mister?"

Harry opened his mouth in awe. How had his daddy known? His daddy was the smartest man in the world. Slowly, he nodded.

"Ah. The truth will out. I'm very disappointed in you, young man. You not only disobeyed me, you lied to me on top of it. Lying is very very bad, child."

"I-I didn't mean to, Daddy!" he wailed, sniffling. He hated it when his daddy used that tone of voice and said those awful words-I'm very disappointed in you. "I'm sorry!"

"What are you sorry for, Harry?"

"For-for touching your potion bottle and-and breaking it! It was an accident!"

"I'm sure it was, but you were told not to touch it and you did anyway. And then you lied to me twice, and that was not an accident, now was it?"

"N-no!" More sniffles. "Am I in trouble?"

"Very big trouble. If you had told me the truth in the beginning, Harry, you'd only get time out and one swat for disobeying. But because you lied to me, now you're going to get a spanking."

"No! Please! I'm sorry!" he wailed, trying to run away. He'd been spanked once before, for playing with Uncle Jamie's wand, and it had hurt a lot.

But his daddy ignored him, saying only, "If you lie to me, or anyone, Harrison Snape, you will always get spanked, for lying is among the very worst things you can do."

Then he'd picked up Harry and placed him over his knee, and given the child seven very firm smacks, on his bare bottom, which was the worst spanking ever, at least from a two year old's perspective.

"And that's what you'll get for lying," Severus told him before he held him and comforted him, rubbing his back until he'd stopped sobbing.

And Harry vowed to never lie to his father again.

He winced when he recalled that incident now, for he well remembered how much that last spanking had stung. But that lesson had stuck with him, for he had never lied to his aunt or uncle, even when he knew it would earn him a beating. And he had done his best not to lie in school either, except in extreme circumstances, and he'd always felt terribly guilty afterwards.

But he wouldn't try and lie his way out of trouble this time, no sir. For there was little doubt in his mind that if he dared to speak a word that was untrue, Severus would know and punish him. His father never threatened.

Eventually, Harry could no longer pretend to be asleep and he opened his eyes and sat up slowly. The room spun a little, but nothing like it had done before, and Harry was able to find his glasses and put them on.

Immediately he saw his father seated in a chair not far away, paging through a magazine. Next to him was an unknown man who looked to be about the same age as his dad, dressed in khaki trousers, a white shirt, and a tie with wolves on it. Harry was sure he'd never met the guy in his life, yet his brain was screaming that he looked familiar.

His eye was drawn back to the wolf tie, for some reason a gray wolf featured prominently with this man, Harry could just remember having a gray stuffed wolf, his favorite toy, given to him by . . ."Moony. That's who you are. Moony Lupin."

At the sound of his voice, Severus immediately tossed aside the magazine and came to stand before him. A hand was placed on his forehead and Severus muttered, "Still slightly feverish." He summoned a blue bottle, poured a dose of it out on a spoon and fed it to Harry, who grimaced but took it without a fuss.

His father arched an eyebrow and said mildly, "Time was when you fought me tooth and nail over medicine. I practically had to force feed you it." He summoned a different potion, this one was a fizzy pink, and let Harry drink it also. "That ought to settle your stomach, son, so we can talk without you having to stop and run into the lavatory." He placed the spoon on the nightstand then said, "As you've no doubt remembered, Harry, this man here is Remus Lupin, AKA Moony, your godfather."

"Hi."

"Hello, Harry. I'm glad to see you're better."

Harry nodded then looked expectantly at his father.

"Uh, Dad? I know you're probably mad as hell right now over what happened last night. . . ."

Severus favored him with a look that could've melted stone. "That's the understatement of the year, young man. Before I ask you for an explanation, I want to remind you about the consequences of lying to me. You ought to remember that's something I have zero tolerance for, now as much as when you were two and lied about breaking my potion bottle. So, this is your first, only, and last warning. Think carefully about what you say, and don't ever lie to me, or else your punishment will be doubled and most likely include the same consequences as the last time you lied to me, Harry. Am I understood?"

"Yes sir," Harry murmured, then he blurted, "But Dad, I'm thirteen now, not two! That's too old to-to punish that way," he stammered, not wanting to say the embarrassing word out loud in front of Remus.

"Yes, and normally I would agree, you're too old for me to spank," Severus countered. "However, lying is a special case and my original punishment will be enforced. So, think carefully before you open your mouth, Harry, because I'll know if you're lying and then you'll pay for it exactly the same as you did when you were two."

His son went a brilliant scarlet. Having Severus punish him like that would be so humiliating. He would rather die of shame. "I understand, sir."

"Good. Now that we've got that settled, tell me exactly what in hell happened last night, Harrison Remus, to make a police officer escort you home at eleven o'clock from a sleepover party."

Harry coughed then began his story, starting with arriving at Neil's house.

Severus was furious that Neil's parents thought it acceptable to go out for dinner and leave two thirteen-year-olds under the care of a seventeen-year-old. "I never would've agreed to letting you spend the night if I'd known that was what they were going to do. I expected you to be supervised by an adult, not a boy just past his majority who thinks he's an adult. And who's proven, at least to me, that he's still an irresponsible child. Go on, Harry. The MacIntyres left and then what?"

"We played Quidditch and I was Seeker-oh blast-I left my broom there!" Harry cried, aghast. The Nimbus 2000 was expensive, what if someone stole it?

"Relax, we'll get your broom back later. After the Quidditch game was when Mike decided to have this party?"

"Yeah and he made Neil and me cook for it, even though we didn't want to." Harry told Severus everything he could remember, including Aliyah and the dozens of teenagers showing up. "But sir, I never saw any alcohol. When I came downstairs to look for Neil, I couldn't find him, and I spotted the punch bowl and I drank some. I was thirsty."

Severus exchanged knowing glances with Remus. "They most likely brought out the alcohol while you two were upstairs, Harry. While there is no technical drinking age in the wizarding community as such, it's understood you shouldn't drink until you're eighteen. And for Muggles in the US, it's even stricter, there's a law, no drinking until you're twenty-one. So they knew they were breaking the law, which was why they played dirty and put the alcohol-firewhiskey would be my guess, right Moony?-into the punch. Then they could drink and not look like they were breaking any laws. They pulled a Lucius Malfoy on you, Harry."

"What's that?"

Before Severus could explain, Remus did. "What your dad means, Harry, is that they spiked the punch, and then allowed it to be served without telling people what was in it. The same thing happened to him sixth year when Lucius Malfoy, an alumni of Hogwarts, threw a party and spiked a glass of pumpkin juice and served it to your father, knowing full well Sev never touched alcohol."

Severus grimaced. "I passed out after ten minutes, but before that I utterly humiliated myself by being so out of control."

"Did the police bring you home too?" asked his son, astonished his father had ever had such an experience. And with Draco's dad too. Figures, he'd be just as slimy as his son.

"No, Remus here did, once he realized what had happened. Read me the riot act too once I woke up, at least he did until I threw up all over him. But that's not the issue here. Look at me." He waited until Harry's eyes were staring straight into his own. "Can you honestly say you had no idea what was done to that punch, Mr. Snape?"

"Yes sir. I was just so thirsty and it was the first thing I saw, so I just got a glass and finished it off. The only differences I noted was that it tasted sharp and it burned the back of my throat when I swallowed. I couldn't find Neil and I was hot, so I stepped outside . . ."

There was no hesitation when he spoke, not the least little flicker of an eyelid or a change in breathing, any of which would have screamed he was lying to the master spy. Severus bit back a sigh of relief. "I can see I'm going to have to talk with you about the dangers of accepting food or an open drink at a party you're at. It's far too easy to slip things inside them and then you could end up the way you did last night."

"Think they got arrested?"

"If they managed to catch them drinking, definitely. For noise level, maybe not. And if they did find evidence of drinking, the parents could be arrested for not supervising minors correctly," said Severus grimly.

Harry gasped. That was news to him, that parents were held responsible for what their son did while they were gone. It seemed a little harsh until Severus explained what could have happened as a result of their little decision.

"People could have died as a result, Harry. Even though most of them were wizards, and flew on brooms, flying or driving while intoxicated, the result is the same-death. Even with Floo powder or Apparition, unless you speak or visualize a destination clearly, you could end up God knows where, or nowhere at all. It's a serious offense and I wouldn't be a bit surprised if the MacIntyres are not facing charges."

"But what about Mike? He's the one who really ought to be in trouble, since he started this whole thing by inviting all those people to the house." Harry argued stubbornly.

"Yes, and I'm sure that if the police haven't held him accountable, his parents surely will."

"I wonder how Neil is doing? He must have drank the punch too and passed out somewhere." Harry mused.

"Most likely. Which brings me to my second topic, if you're ever at that kind of party again, never ever accept a drink from an unknown person or leave a drink unattended, always get your own butterbeer or whatever from a closed bottle. Or better yet, don't drink at all. I had hoped you'd never need to learn that the hard way, son, unfortunately, like me, you did," said his father with a touch of regret.

"One thing my parents told me, Harry, was if I was ever at a party and became drunk, or other kids were drinking, no matter how old I was, I could always call them to come and pick me up," Remus added. "No matter what time it was, they were available, and they wouldn't punish me that night, if I happened to deserve it, only the next morning."

"I agree with that policy," said Severus. "If you're ever in a situation like that again, call me and I will come and get you, no matter the time or the place, because nothing is worth more to me than your safety."

"And you won't punish me either?"

"Not that night, no. But the next morning, I will, if you've done something to warrant it. You were extremely lucky last night, Harry, that a police officer picked you up and not someone else. There are people who live to prey on children your age, son, and the way you were, you'd have been an easy target."

Harry grimaced as the impact of his father's words sunk in. He'd never thought it would be dangerous just walking home alone. He had forgotten that without his magic, he was vulnerable. And he had assumed he was safe here, where the crime level was low and no one knew he was really Harry Potter. "Sorry. I-I wasn't thinking straight."

"Yes, I know. Being drunk will do that to you," said Severus wryly. "I hope this teaches you a good lesson about the perils of underage drinking, Harry. As it is, I'm going to call Mr. and Mrs. MacIntyre and give them a good piece of my mind, if they're available, and maybe have a word with Mike as well."

Harry shivered, for his father's tone was very unpleasant and promised hell for whoever was on the receiving end of it. The youngster was just glad it wasn't him this time. "But I'm not in trouble, am I?"

"Since you didn't deliberately drink alcohol, no, you're not. But if you ever do before you're of age, wizard or otherwise, you will wish you never heard of it when I get through with you. Alcohol is nothing to fool around with, Harry, especially given your family history. The sons and daughters or grandsons or granddaughters of an alcoholic are more than fifty percent likely to become alcoholics if they drink to excess. It's an inherited weakness. Which is why you'll never see me drink anything but an occasional toast or a glass of wine at dinner. I'd suggest you follow my example instead of your grandfather's."

"I will, sir," Harry promised. The thought of becoming like his grandfather, not to mention waking feeling like he'd been run over by a herd of unicorns, did not appeal to him in the slightest.

"All right then." Severus rose to his feet. "While I go and make a phone call, you ought to get dressed and eat some breakfast, Harry. Then you can get reacquainted with your godfather, who hasn't seen you since you were two."

Harry flushed, recalling the story his father had told him about the last time Remus had babysat him. Then he looked up and caught a faint red blush on the werewolf's face as well. Clearly they were both remembering the same incident.

Their eyes met and Lupin said quietly, "Well, at least you can dress yourself this time around, Harry."

For some reason Harry found this comment hilariously funny and began laughing. Remus snickered too and Severus left them still chuckling and went to make a very pointed phone call. He was on the whole, quite relieved that his son had been blameless in the whole incident, but also quite angry that Harry had been exposed to that kind of reckless and irresponsible behavior at this age. And he would be sure to inform the elder MacIntyres and their older son of that fact in no uncertain terms.

Harry soon learned that having Lupin around was just as much fun this time as it had been the last time he'd seen the werewolf. Remus was very easy going and had a wonderful sense of humor. He had grown up with both Severus and Lily as well as all the Marauders, and had amusing and interesting stories to share about all of them.

"James and Sirius were always bickering with your parents, Harry," Remus related. "Mostly because the two of them were still as prank happy as they ever were when they were in school. One time when they were supposed to be babysitting you, Lily came home and found her living room covered in wall to wall neon glow purple and green paint, and so were Sirius and James and you too. They'd been playing Paint Wars and Lily was furious. I think she yelled at them to just grow the hell up and threatened to hex them back to three-year-olds if they didn't shape up. And believe me, she'd have done it too. Your mum had as fiery a temper as Sev sometimes. James used to say it was the red hair that made her so quick to boil over."

"My dad says that Mum didn't really care all that much for James when they were in school."

"Yes, but that was all James fault. He was a charmer and arrogant, thought all he had to do was look at a girl and she'd fall at his feet. Nine times out of ten, that was true, women loved him for his looks and his charm and his money. But Lily was different. She saw he was immature and afraid of commitment and shallow. And his money made no difference to her. She came from a comfortable background, she didn't need a rich boyfriend to buy her expensive presents. She called that kind of thing flash, and said she didn't need that to look good. Her sister Petunia disagreed with her, as I'm sure you know. Lily once said James was "all flash and no fire", meaning he had gloss but no substance. She was dead on target. Back then, James was very much an immature jackass. Unlike Sev, who never really had a childhood, and grew up too fast and too hard. But his saving grace, or so he always told me, was your mother. He said once when they were dating that she was the light in the dark, and with her beside him he would never fear losing his way."

He was right, Harry thought sadly. Because when she died, he did lose his way, and became hard and bitter, not like the man she married. If she had meant that much to him, losing her must have been like . . .the worst kind of tragedy ever. And he didn't even have me, because Dumbledore hid me away with the Dursleys. Harry felt another flash of anger whenever he thought of how the old wizard had meddled in his life, altering it beyond comprehension. What would his life have been like if he'd grown up loved and safe with his dad, the two of them together? What would he be like if he'd always been Harrison Remus Snape?

Certainly the loss of his magic would have never occurred, since he would never have needed to run away from Severus, and thus become easy prey for the Death Eaters lurking about, waiting for just such a mistake. Severus had been right when he said Albus had a lot to answer for, up to and including this new disaster.

"If I had been left alone to be raised by my father, things would have been different, Uncle Moony," Harry exclaimed suddenly, addressing the other wizard the way he used to do as a baby. "I wouldn't be such a mess now, without magic and a lifetime of awful memories. If Dumbledore hadn't stolen me away to live with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, I'd have been much better off."

Remus nodded sadly, his dark eyes filled with compassion. "Yes, you would have been, Harry. Hiding you away from your dad was one of the worst mistakes Albus ever made. He freely admits that and regrets his decision to this day."

"Fat lot of good that does me now!" Harry retorted bitterly.

"Ah, that's your father coming out in you," remarked the werewolf quietly. "Sev could hold a grudge with the best of them, and still does. He has a hard time forgiving and forgetting, for all of his compassionate nature. You're like him in that respect, Harry."

"Only a little," the boy argued.

"Harry, a little goes a long way," Remus smiled. "Albus truly does regret keeping the two of you apart for so long, but the man tends to look at the big picture instead of individuals, and sometimes he forgets who he's dealing with, that they're people, not pawns on a chessboard. But he meant well."

"So what? He screwed up my life and I was the one who paid for it!" Harry snapped, his eyes flashing. "And then he expects me to say it was no big deal, and forget the hell I lived for eleven years, when all that time I could have been with my real dad, treated like a son instead of a freak. Well, I can't , Uncle Moony. I just . . .can't. Maybe someday. . .but not now. Not now."

Remus placed a hand comfortingly on the younger wizard's shoulder. "I can't blame you, Harry. I'd be raging mad too if I ever discovered that I'd been put with my scummy relatives when I could've been with someone who really cared for me."

"And now my magic's gone too," Harry told him, a sharp bitter note creeping into his tone. "Well, it was shattered and it's only just begun to mend. I can fly my broom but that's about it. And nobody knows when I'll get it back."

Suddenly, they caught Severus's voice coming from the kitchen, where he was having a very loud discussion with Neil's parents and presumably Mike as well. " . . .when I gave my son permission to spend the night, Mrs. MacIntyre, I did so assuming you would be there to supervise, not leave two thirteen-year-olds in the care of an irresponsible seventeen-year-old intending to have a wild party as soon as your back was out the door! . . . Was this the first time this sort of thing occurred? Not really? Just what the blazes is that supposed to mean?"

Harry and Remus winced at the edge in Severus's voice. They heard him muttering several colorful remarks, then he replied, "Yes, I'm aware of what teenagers get up to these days, I've been a teacher for over eleven years. And I'll tell you right now, that never would I have left three of them home alone for more than an hour, especially on a weekend! My son was escorted home by the police, madam, and he was totally drunk when he showed up on my doorstep, thanks to your son or one of his friends spiking a punch with God knows what proof alcohol!" Severus shouted. "If Harry had gotten alcohol poisoning, you'd be facing a bloody lawsuit now, woman, so don't tell me to calm down! If I was any other parent, I could bring charges against you for negligence of a minor! He was your responsibility and you failed him miserably, so you just quit with the excuses and think about that for a moment!"

Harry groaned. "Merlin, but he's really mad, Uncle Moony. What if he never lets me see Neil again?"

"You can't blame him for that, Harry. It was really irresponsible of them. But once his temper dies down, I think he'll realize that it was hardly Neil's fault and he won't blame him for his brother's actions."

Harry prayed the werewolf was right, because he didn't want to lose his only friend.

Remus was quiet for a moment, then he said, "Losing your magic's rough to deal with, kid. It's sort of like losing your hand or leg in a car accident. Or getting bitten by a werewolf. Your whole life changes and there's no going back. All you can do is accept it and go on. Which isn't easy, believe me. Nobody knows that better than I do. You said your Muggle relatives treated you like a freak. You could say the rest of the wizarding world, except for very few, did the same to me. To be a werewolf is to become an outcast, you live on the fringe of society, part yet not part."

"But it's not your fault you became one," Harry protested. "So why should you get blamed?"

"Because people have to blame someone. And I'm an easy target. Most werewolves don't live too long once they're bitten, they usually go mad from hunger and despair or become utter beasts that hunt and kill humans until they're hunted and killed in turn. For each person, the curse expresses in different ways. In me, it gives me super strength and speed, and anger, but I can control most of it, enough so I've never succumbed to killing a human. Even when I was a teenager, I hunted only animals for food. That makes all the difference, I believe. Your dad was the closest I've ever come to harming a human being, that night in Hogsmeade."

Harry was about to ask another question when they heard Severus's irate voice yet again. " . . .what did you think you were doing, young man? This was all a big joke to you right? . . .oh, so you're telling me you didn't know one of your friends had a bottle of Buzz?. . . .That's no excuse, boy!" The Potions Master roared and Harry flinched. " . . .you're lucky you aren't my son, Mr. MacIntyre . . .because this would be one lesson you'd never forget, I assure you . . ."

Both Remus and Harry shivered at the silky threatening tone, and Harry thanked his lucky stars that tone wasn't directed at him.

Severus's voice grew softer and they could no longer make out what he was saying.

"They told you then, what almost happened? James and Sirius, I mean?" Harry continued his original conversation.

"They didn't have to. Albus told me himself and I was horrified and at the same time furious as hell. At myself, for being a creature that couldn't be trusted not to harm his best friend. But also at James and Sirius, for thinking my condition was all some colossal joke. I took a long time to forgive them for nearly turning me into a murderer and killing Severus. Bad enough I had to transform into a man's worst nightmare, a beast without reason who craved human flesh, every full moon, without making me a target of every werewolf hunter and Auror in Britain."

"There's such a thing as a werewolf hunter?" Harry repeated.

"Oh, yes. You see, Harry, most werewolves truly are monsters, pure primal rage that lives to kill and feast upon humans. They might take human shape, but their humanity was lost long ago. I'm one of the few exceptions to that rule, perhaps because I was so young when I was bitten."

"How old were you?" His father had told him, but he couldn't recall it.

"Five. We were on vacation in the Alps when Grayback stumbled upon our campsite, I was alone for a few minutes, sitting by the fire playing Gobstones when he came out of nowhere and attacked me. My parents heard me screaming and Apparated back, but by then it was too late. I'd been bitten, but not badly enough to die. I almost did, but I recovered and by then the lycanthrope curse was part of me. Luckily, it was easy to contain me back then, my father locked me in the cellar and tied me to a post so I wouldn't injure myself trying to escape. He also left me ground hamburger to eat, like you would a dog, and eventually I ate it, though it never really satisfied me. But that was the best they could do then."

"Until you came to Hogwarts."

"Right. And James and Sirius and Peter discovered that I was better able to control my wolfish urges by running with them in their Animagus forms. I had to hunt first, however, because only after I'd fed was I "safe" to be around."

"Could you understand them when they were changed?"

"In a manner of speaking. Animals communicate differently than we do, and all animals can comprehend one another after a fashion. That's how I could understand Padfoot when he barked, or Prongs when he snorted, or Wormtail when he squeaked. But I was still dangerous, and they didn't know just how much they risked by being near me when I was in my wolfin form. A werewolf sated is not tame." Remus stated with a sardonic smile. "I could have turned on them any minute."

"Do you think they knew?"

"I think Sirius guessed, but he never told any of the others. He always loved an element of danger, the big idiot. With him action and thought were simultaneous. One of things which bugged Severus to no end."

"They hated each other, right?"

"Not quite hate, Harry. Say rather they strongly disliked each other, but agreed to tolerate each other for Lily's sake. Sev and Sirius were like a cat and dog. Sirius would annoy Severus by barking or whatever, and Sev would hiss and spit at him until Sirius quit being an annoying pain."

Harry bit back a giggle at the picture Remus's comparison conjured, of a black mutt barking at a hissing black cat.

"Sev thought Sirius was nothing more than a spoiled rich kid with an attitude problem, and Sirius thought Sev was nothing but street trash posing as somebody. They were both partially right and partially wrong. There was more to either of them than they would ever admit." Lupin shook his head regretfully. "I have to admit, out of all the Marauders, I'd of picked Peter to go dark before Sirius, even though Sirius came from a rabid pureblood family, who were strong supporters of Voldemort's regime."

"Why Peter?" Harry noticed that Pettigrew seemed to be the least mentioned of the three.

"Peter was a sneak, he loved to spy on everyone. He was also afraid of everyone and everything, it was kind of pathetic actually. He hid behind James and Sirius and was a classic follower, did whatever he was told and never spoke up if his mates were doing something wrong. The wolf in me hated him on sight, he reminded me of prey, I guess. I'd of picked him over Sirius because he was easily persuaded, if one was powerful enough, they could have broken him easily. But Sirius killed him, though I'd of sworn he was loyal to the Light. My instincts are rarely wrong."

"Everyone makes mistakes, Moony," came Severus's silky voice. "Black fooled almost all of us." Both of them jumped about a foot. Severus's approach had been soundless. Apparently his conversation with the MacIntyres was over.

"Save you, Severus."

"I never trusted him, so it didn't really surprise me when he betrayed us." Snape said grimly. "I would have liked to be at his trial, he deserved the Kiss for what he did, leading bloody Riddle straight to James and Lily and Harry." There was a dark thread of anguish in his tone now.

"Why weren't you?"

"Dumbledore forbade me," Severus answered tightly. "I believe he thought I wouldn't be able to restrain myself, seeing my worst enemy helpless. He was wrong, of course. I'd have been happy to see justice done, whether it was by my hand or a court's. Dumbledore has always underestimated my control over my temper. I don't let it consume me, anymore than you allow your wolf nature to."

They were sitting in the den, the remains of a light lunch scattered before them on the table, when Mia burst into the house, chasing Rosie, who had a stuffed dragon in her mouth. "Help! Rosie, give it back!"

The beagle ignored the child, running full speed around the couch with her forbidden prize, playing keep away.

"Rosie! Sit!" Harry ordered sternly.

The puppy froze, then sat and immediately offered a paw in submission. Harry took the toy from her and said, "Bad girl!" The dog hung her head. "No chewing toys!" Then he walked over and picked up one of the basted rawhide chews and gave the beagle it instead.

Rosie mouthed it and wagged her tail and Harry told her she was a good dog. She flopped over on the floor and began gnawing it.

"Here, Mia," Harry handed the little girl her toy. "Sorry about that."

"It's okay, Harry. She's just a crazy puppy," said the young witch. "But Sparks is my favorite stuffed animal." She eyed her cousin. "Are you still sick?"

"No. I feel a lot better now."

"Oh good. You looked terrible before," she said honestly. "Want to play Donkey Kong?"

"Uh . . ." he wanted to tell her no, because he was interested in continuing the conversation he'd been having with Remus and Severus, but she gave him one of her patented puppy-dog stares and his resolve melted into a puddle of goo. "Okay. Two games and that's all."

She flashed him a megawatt smile. "You're the best, Harry!"

Remus stifled a laugh at the way the child manipulated the teenager so effortlessly. "She's got him wrapped up quite neatly, hasn't she?"

Severus nodded, his dark eyes twinkling. "Oh yes. And has since she first met him. I can't blame him though. She's irresistible when she smiles."

"Kind of reminds me of another little girl with red hair and green eyes, who could persuade a certain boy to do whatever she wanted."

"A little," agreed his friend. "Only their friendship will remain just that and never grow into anything more. But that's all right. He's got time to find the other half of himself. Once he's restored his magic, that is."

"Then you think there's a chance that it can be restored, Sev?"

"Remus, where there's a will, there's a way. I don't believe in the incurable. I created the Wolfsbane Potion, didn't I? It took Lily and I years, but we succeeded. Harry's magic was shattered by a spell, but I don't think it was irreversible, and oddly enough, neither does Dumbledore. The spell they used on him was experimental, and it worked, but not as well as they thought. His magic broke, but not permanently. There were still traces of it when I brought him back to Hogwarts."

"And now?"

"Now there are sparks, Remus. But they're growing daily and someday I think the sparks will become a flame and burn brightly as before. His magical core is repairing itself, Moony. Slowly, but it's coming back. He stands in magic's shadow now, but one day he'll be restored."

"That's why you hid him here, isn't it?"

Severus nodded. "Partly. He needed time to recover from what they did to him, Moony. They nearly broke him and I needed time to fix him. I also needed time to re-establish our old relationship, so we weren't treating each other like strangers, or worse, adversaries." Severus dropped his eyes abruptly. "And lastly I wanted to take him out of reach of the Old Meddler, whose machinations cost him a father and a normal childhood. I won't let him be forced into becoming some hero, Remus, I don't give a damn what kind of prophecy is floating around! He deserves to have a normal life, like every other child, and by Merlin's blessed staff, I'm going to see that he gets it. He's my son first and the bloody Boy Who Lived second," Severus declared fiercely, and Remus felt a shiver go through him at the other's impassioned words.

Albus, you're not going to get Harry back without a fight, and Severus won't go down quietly. He'll fight tooth and nail for what's his, and heaven help you, old man, if you oppose him. You might have an edge over him in experience and a shade more magic, but he's got determination and stubbornness on his side and he knows his combat spells. And he won't hesitate to unleash his power, Albus, not when you threaten his own. His family is everything to him and he'll protect them with his last breath, even against you, the werewolf thought, knowing the old wizard would hear him through the mindlink they shared, which Albus had cast just before sending Remus to find Severus and act as his messenger. Remus had agreed, reluctantly, and found out more than he'd bargained for. Leave them be, Albus. Find another hero, these two have suffered enough.

I know, my boy, but they are all I have, sent Albus sadly.

A broken wizard child and a reluctant Potions Master? Give me a break, Albus! Surely you can do better than that. Is this the stuff legends are made of?

No, Remus. This is the stuff heroes are made of. The most unlikely of all shall triumph over the dark.

I don't believe in prophecy, old man, Remus thought angrily. Prophecy killed my best friends and I'm done with it. I'll not be a party to your schemes anymore, Albus. Harry and Severus deserve a choice and I mean to see they get it. I'm finished as your messenger, Professor. I've delivered it and you've heard their reply. Sorry it's not what you expected. But I won't play spy on them anymore, sir. Break the link. Now.

Remus, don't be hasty. Perhaps you can persuade them further.

No! I'm not going to play devil's advocate with my best friend! snarled the werewolf. Now break the connection, or I'll have Severus do it.

As you wish, my boy, sighed the elder wizard.

Remus relaxed as the connection between them was severed. Now he didn't feel like a bloody snoop, reporting back to Albus that way. But he knew he would pay for that little bit of rebelliousness. He was certain he'd receive an owl any day now summoning him back to Hogwarts. But better that than getting tangled in the Headmaster's endless web.

"Remus? Are you all right? You look like you're fighting a migraine," observed Snape with concern.

Remus rubbed his temples. "Yeah, guess you could say that." His head was throbbing, probably a result of Albus terminating the link so suddenly.

"Here," Severus snapped his fingers and a vial of Headache Remedy appeared on the table. "Drink that and you'll be fine in ten minutes."

"Thanks," Remus said gratefully and drank the potion. He felt much better afterwards, though not all of it was due to Snape's concoction. He was quite relieved to not have to play informant anymore. He wasn't good at those kinds of games and Severus would have known if it had gone on much longer.

The werewolf took a long drink of his tea and smiled reminiscently. "Do you remember when Harry was first talking, Sev, and he called everyone a name ending in "y" or "ie"?"

"How could I forget?" Severus rolled his eyes. "You were Moony, James was Jamie, and the mutt was Blackie. Lily was Mummy and I was Daddy, of course. And Alice was Auntie Allie, poor thing!"

"And you teased James by calling him Jamie every chance you got," Remus recalled. "And he retaliated by calling you Sevvy."

"Please!" Severus shuddered. "Don't remind me, Lupin. I hate that nickname. It sounds like it belongs on a cute dog."

"Oh? But I heard Lily call you Sevvy a time or two."

"That's different. She was my wife, I allowed her to call me ridiculous names," said Severus, blushing. "But that doesn't hold true for anyone else, got me?" he glowered warningly at the grinning Lupin.

"Aww, come on, Snape. You're spoiling my fun."

"Lupin, I'm warning you. Call me that and I'll call you something equally embarrassing."

"Okay, Sevvy."

Severus threw a pillow at him and growled, "Shut up, Remmy!"

Lupin pretended to gag into the pillow.

Severus just smirked. Lupin's grandmother had called him that and he'd hated it. He had told his best friend it made him sound like a refugee from a Mardi Gras party. Then again, his grandmother had been from Louisiana.

"That was a low blow, Snape."

"Don't be a baby, Lupin. If you can't finish something, don't start it."

Lupin glared at him, but his glare had nothing on Severus, who simply smiled and thought, Jamie would be proud, the damn insolent bastard! He always did love seeing Remus get riled.

• * * * * * *

The next day, a rather apologetic Neil showed up for his potions lesson. Severus glanced up from the potion he'd been stirring when his student cleared his throat. "Good, you're on time, Mr. MacIntyre. You can continue where you left off," he indicated the boy's work station, which had been spelled so Neil could resume work on his Decongestion Draft the next lesson.

Neil made his way quietly over to his cauldron, but paused just before removing the stasis spell. "Sir?"

"Yes, Mr. MacIntyre?"

"I-I just wanted to apologize for what happened at my house two days ago," Neil began awkwardly, staring down at the stone floor. "My brother's a jackass and I'm beginning to think he was adopted or something."

Severus was silent for a few minutes and Neil was sure he was trying not to scream at his student. But when he dared to peer up at the taller wizard, he saw that Snape didn't look angry. Instead he looked faintly . . . amused?

"Mr. MacIntyre," Severus began quietly. "You are not your brother's keeper. He was the one who threw the party, am I right? And allowed alcohol to be served to minors, correct?"

"Yeah."

"I spoke to your parents after the incident and they informed me it would never happen again and that your brother was punished quite severely with an overnight stay in the local jail as well as several hours of community service plus alcoholic abuse counseling."

"Yeah, that's right. And my dad took away his broom and basically grounded him from now until Christmas and forbade him to see any of his friends or talk to them. But I'm still sorry about what happened to Harry."

"You have nothing to apologize for, child. You did nothing wrong," said his teacher. "In fact you were also a victim, from what your mother told me."

Neil flushed. "Uh, yeah, I was. I drank two cups of that spiked punch and passed out cold on the living room couch. That's the first and last time I'll ever drink, sir. I was sick as a dog the next morning."

"So was Harry," remarked Severus. "You can compare hangover stories later, however. For now, I need you to finish preparing your Decongestion Draft and then we'll start work on Veritaserum."

"Yes, Professor Snape." Neil set to work immediately, vastly relieved that Harry's father had not unleashed the dreaded Snape temper upon him. He'd felt the lash of Severus's tongue once for not paying attention to a recipe and totally mucking up a cauldron full of Felix Felicis, and had no desire to ever experience it again. Mike had also and had said he'd rather face a Hungarian Horntail than Snape in a temper, even if it was only over a telephone.

But at least the man was fair and he was an absolute genius at Potions. Neil had learned more from him in the past two months than he had in three years with his wizard master Thurgood. He was surprised that Harry was not as skilled at potions, then supposed that such things were not always inherited, and Harry was superb in other areas, like flying. Strange though, in all the months he'd known Harry, he had yet to see the other wizard cast a spell, with or without a wand.

Harry had mentioned an accident before he'd come here, Neil recalled, so perhaps that had something to do with it. He considered asking his friend about it after his potions lesson, but once the lesson was over, they'd gone flying with Rosie and Neil forgot all about his question until later on that night.

Flying with the little beagle was hilarious and Neil loved it as much as he had with his own dog. "Hey, Harry!" he'd yell, and swoop down from on high with the beagle in the sling-arroo-ing all the way. "Up in the sky! It's a bird, it's a plane, no it's a flying beagle! Wahoo!"

And Rosie would chime in with her typical beagle "Arroo-o!"

Harry's Uncle Remus had nearly died laughing the first time he'd seen that maneuver and snapped a picture of Rosie, Neil, and Harry on their brooms. "Here's another for your new album, Sev!"

Neil had to admit, Harry seemed to have the coolest relatives. Sometimes it almost made him wish he was an orphan, so then maybe they'd adopt him.

As expected, Remus received an owl from the Headmaster a few days after he'd terminated the link between them. The letter requested that he return post haste since the substitute Albus had hired had to leave suddenly and Remus had to resume his teaching duties as soon as possible. The werewolf had hoped to spend some of the holidays with Sev and Harry, but now that wasn't possible. Regretfully, he bid the Snapes goodbye and promised to keep in touch with letters, and Severus had brewed four months worth of Wolfsbane for his friend and told him to return when he ran out.

"Or any other time you need a break from those infuriating little brats," the former professor invited. "Once you've done teaching for the day, your time is your own, Lupin, and you're not answerable to the Headmaster for everything."

"Right, and thank you for the offer, Severus. I just may take you up on it someday, when I've gone round the bend from teaching consecutive Gryffindor Slytherin classes for weeks at a time."

"Merlin be with you, Moony. You're going to need it," laughed the Potions Master. Then he embraced his friend and bid him safe travel back home.

Harry too hugged his godfather, who had spoiled him outrageously during his stay, buying him little gifts and taking him to the movies with Neil and to a Quidditch game and out for lunch and ice cream until Severus complained that when Remus left he'd have to deal with a spoiled brat. "Hey, I've got eleven years of missed birthdays and such to make up, Sev," the lycanthrope pointed out slyly. "Besides, no son of yours will ever be anything but perfect, Snape."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Lupin," returned his friend. "But thank you anyhow. Lily always said any child of ours would be a masterpiece."

Severus found that when he was around Remus, it was easier for him to speak of his late wife, and the hole in his heart was not so pronounced, for Lupin shared many of his memories with his wife. He also had several photos of Lily with a younger Severus and more of her with Harry that he'd put away once she had died, and those he gave to his friend and his son. Remus was quite a talented photographer, and the pictures were beautiful, glimpses of a past that had been mostly sweetness and light, until the coming of Voldemort.

Severus had added the new photos to the photo album he was making, along with the others he and Remus had taken over the past few days. He planned on giving it to Harry as a Christmas present, to commemorate his new life as a Snape.

Thus, the two felt the absence of their werewolf friend keenly, but soon enough the Christmas holidays were upon them, and for the first time ever Harry experienced the holiday with a family who made him a part of their celebration, from beginning to end.

He helped Aurelia bake cookies and pies, along with his father, who was no slouch as a cook himself. He and Mia and Melody decorated Aurelia's house one day, putting up the tree and hanging wreaths and other knickknacks about. Then they planned their Christmas dinner and shopped for presents.

Harry received an allowance from his father for doing chores every week and he used this money to buy presents for his new family and friends. Remembering Mia's wish for a dog, he bought her a cuddly stuffed beagle that she could sleep with. For Aurelia, he bought the newest cookbook by a Muggle chef called Paula Deen. Melody received a gift card to a popular beauty spa called Milagro Day Spa. Neil got tickets to the latest Alphas match, to make up for Harry missing the other one. Hagrid he sent a picture of a very rare black unicorn, which was native only to the States. Ron he sent an official Alphas robe, so he could brag to his brothers about having the only one of its kind in Britain. Hermione got a book called Spells for the Sophisticated Witch and Remus a new briefcase with all kinds of secret compartments (his old one was very worn).

The gift for his father was one that stumped him for a long time, until he thought of the perfect gift. It took him two days to write it, in his best penmanship, and then he brought it to the scrivener and had it bound in a small leather portfolio. It was a piece entitled Why I'm Proud to Be Your Son and in it Harry had written all the things he wanted to tell his father but could never articulate. He also included a snapshot at the end of it that Remus had taken of him and his dad together in the backyard, playing with Rosie. He'd even bought a special chew toy for his beagle, one that would never fall victim to the dog's jaws, for it magically repaired itself after being chewed.

Since winter at the Jersey shore rarely included snow, Severus allowed the kids to persuade him to conjure a short spate of Highland weather, so they could have a snowball fight and build a snowman and make snow angels. Of course, the kids ended up dragging him into their silly games by hitting him in the head with a snowball, forcing him to retaliate with a Snape Special-three snowballs flung with deadly accuracy at the three troublemaking imps, knocking them on their backsides in the snow.

His son's astonished expression had been priceless and made him start laughing. "Did you really think I'd let you get away with such disrespectful behavior, Mr. Snape?"

Harry rose cautiously to his feet, brushing the snow off himself and answered, "I thought it was worth it, Dad. Who would ever have thought you knew how to throw a snowball?"

"Just goes to show you, your old man still has a few tricks up his sleeve," smirked Severus. Then he whipped a hand from behind his back and nailed Harry right in the face with a large mushy snowball.

"Ahhh! No fair, Dad!" sputtered the boy, brushing snow off his glasses, wincing as it trickled down his shirt inbetween his scarf and his neck. "Sneaky Slytherin trickster!"

"I do my humble best, brat!" chuckled the Head of Slytherin House wickedly, and he bowed to his son before quitting the field.

The snow only lasted the afternoon, for Severus refused to tamper with the weather for longer than that, and by the next afternoon the snow was a mere memory, but its appearance was talked about for weeks by the locals.

Christmas morning, Harry found many presents under the tree with his name on them. "Looks like you were good this year, young man," Aurelia smiled as she began handing the gifts out.

There were packages from Remus, Ron, Hermione, Hagrid, and Mrs. Weasley as well as Aurelia, Mia, Melody, Neil, and Severus. Harry opened the presents from his Hogwarts pals first. Ron had sent him a large box of chocolate frogs and a bio of Viktor Krum, one of the leading Seekers as well as the youngest, on the Bulgarian team. From Hermione he received a book called Finding Your Inner Strength, a guide to self-empowerment. Mrs. Weasley sent her usual jumper embroidered with an HS knitted out of a soft green wool. Also included were a large mince pie and some firecrackers from Fred and George. Hagrid sent him his usual package of rock cakes, which even Rosie turned up her nose at. From Remus there was a new winter cloak done in deep emerald and golden trim with a deep pockets spell on it. The note from his godfather said the cloak's pockets were designed to hold almost anything, and would never grow full. It was an extremely cool and thoughtful gift and Harry was delighted with it.

From the Prince side of the family, Harry received a set of novels by C.S. Lewis called The Chronicles of Narnia. "Those were my favorite books as a girl, Harry," Aurelia told him. "I think you'll enjoy them as well." Melody bought him a new video game for his SuperNintendo and Mia gave him an entire season of That's My Beagle on VHS.

"Where on earth did she find that?" wondered Severus.

"You'd be surprised what my granddaughter finds when she goes looking for something. She's a born shopaholic."

But Severus gave him the best presents of all, the photo album, and a brand new professional Quidditch broom. "A Meteor 2001!" gasped Harry when he'd torn off the paper. "This is the latest model out on the public market. There's a waiting list for this of over a year, Dad! How'd you ever manage to get one?"

"A client of mine owed me a favor," answered the Potions Master. He had brewed a fertility potion for Andrew Ascot, Captain of the Alphas, who desperately wanted a child but didn't want the press to know that he was having difficulties getting his wife pregnant. He'd been willing to pay top Galleons for Severus to make the potion and said he'd owe him a favor for keeping his silence on the private matter.

"Wow! You're awesome, Dad!" Harry cried, examining the broom in delight. "Neil's gonna die when he finds out. And so will Ron. Thanks so much!" he rose to hug his father and hand him his own present. "Uh, this is from me. Hope you like it. Merry Christmas."

He watched anxiously as Severus carefully opened his gift, fighting hard to keep from biting his nails. Would his dad appreciate the gift? Or would he think it a stupid attempt to curry favor with him when Harry got into trouble next time? But no, his father was reading the essay, savoring each and every sentence, or so it seemed. Harry prayed he wasn't correcting mistakes as he read, the way he usually did.

At last Severus looked up from the portfolio, and his dark eyes glimmered with unshed tears. In a voice choked with emotion he said, "Harry, this was the best present I've ever received. Come here, son."

Harry walked over to the Potions Master and found himself caught up in a great big hug. "You know, I'm proud to be your father, Harry. I love you, son," whispered Severus, blinking furiously.

"Love you too, Dad," Harry managed once he could get his breath back. There were tears in his eyes too.

The sentimental moment might have degenerated further into a real tearjerker but for Rosie, who chose that moment to jump onto the pair, baying and licking their faces with her sticky tongue.

"Ugh! Beagle breath!" sputtered Severus. "Dog, you need help. Like a peppermint chew bone."

Rosie grinned and wagged her tail joyfully, content so long as her humans were happy.

"All right, that's enough of this sentimental nonsense," muttered Snape, releasing Harry. "Who wants pancakes for breakfast?"

One very hungry beagle and her teenage boy beat a hasty path to the kitchen, their stomachs growling loudly.

Later on they went over Melody's for Christmas Day dinner and Harry brought his new broom over to show Neil and Mia, though Severus made him promise not to fly it without activating the safety charms he'd put on it. "The last thing I want is to have to bring you or someone else to the hospital on Christmas Day, Harry, so do yourself a favor and follow my rules for once."

"Okay, Dad. No problem." Harry agreed, he couldn't refuse Severus anything after the man's unexpected generosity and display of love that morning. He knew if he got hurt Severus would never forgive himself, hence the charms.

Neil was speechless with envy for about two seconds, then he begged Harry to ride it. Harry allowed him to, but only after he'd flown first. The broom swooped and cornered like a dream and was wickedly fast, much faster than the Nimbus, and Harry was grateful for his father's caution for once, since a fall from this skyrocket would end with him splattered all over in Harry shaped pieces.

Still, it was an awesome piece of enchanted wood, and Harry treated it with the respect it deserved. Neil took a turn after and said it was the best thing ever invented and Harry was one lucky son of a gun. Harry offered to let Neil borrow his Nimbus, and the other boy agreed, since that broom was better than his current one. Harry would have given it to him, but he knew Neil's pride would never permit him to accept it, and so he resorted to letting Neil borrow it indefinitely.

As he got into bed that Christmas night, Harry reflected that this had been the best Christmas ever, even better than the one he'd had as a first year.

• * * * * * *

The second of January arrived and with it Harry's first day of normal Muggle school. Severus had agreed to extend Aurelia's home schooling through December, so Harry could start regular school fresh during a new term.

Harry was a bit nervous, but he would be going to school with Neil, so he was not concerned about making friends the way he would've been otherwise. In America, wizard as well as Muggle went to normal middle school, though the wizard students only had half days, the rest was spent with their private wizard masters, unknown to the principal of the middle school, who thought they attended vo-tech classes. Harry had the same schedule as Neil, even though he wasn't able to access his magic fully. Severus thought it best if Harry were treated like a wizard student from the beginning, that way there would be no awkward questions once Harry began to study magic for real once more.

That first week was a breeze, and Harry soon discovered his middle school teachers were nowhere as strict as his father or some other Hogwarts professors had been. He barely had any homework and he and Neil were in most of the same classes, so they could study together. Of course, there'd been the usual comments about the new kid, but Neil soon shut the more vocal of them up with his fists and the threat that if they started trouble with either him or Harry, Mike would come after them. Mike had a reputation as a tough scary delinquent since his stint in jail after the wild party, and none of the boys wanted to cross him.

Harry was just as glad, since the last thing he wanted was to get in trouble at school for fighting. Severus would blow a gasket for sure if that happened, so Harry reigned in his Snape temper and walked away.

A month passed and Harry was gradually accepted by his peers. But one Monday morning, Harry woke feeling terribly ill. Severus shook him awake at the usual time, 6:45 AM. The thirteen-year-old groaned and buried his head in his pillow. "Harry. Wake up. Time for school."

"Don' wanna go today," he whimpered, feeling oddly hot and his head was pounding like an anvil.

Severus assumed at first this was typical teenage reluctance and said sternly, "None of that, mister. You're getting up and going to school, I don't care how tired you are. I told you to go to bed early. Now get dressed. Don't make me come back in here."

Harry wanted to protest, but he felt totally drained of energy and simply nodded and when his father had left, flopped back on his bed and back into a fevered semi-sleep. His rest was plagued by nightmares of black robed figures in masks and purple coils.

He was jerked up out of the dreams by his father's hand, shaking him. "Harrison Remus Snape! Didn't I tell you to get dressed half-an-hour ago? And here I find you're still in bed. What part of get up don't you understand?"

Harry opened his eyes and moaned. "Dad . . .I really don't feel good."

Severus frowned, for this wasn't like Harry, to pretend illness. He expertly felt his son's forehead, and swore as he withdrew his hand. "You're burning up, son. I'll call the school and tell them you're sick, then I'm going to give you a fever reducer. Do you hurt anywhere else?"

"My head. And all my muscles ache and so does my throat."

Severus drew his wand and ran a quick diagnostic. Harry had a 103 fever and flu like symptoms, as far as the spell could tell. He had his son open his mouth so he could examine Harry's tonsils and the back of his throat. He deftly felt beneath the boy's jaw, finding the glands there slightly swollen, but not as tender as they would've been if he had strep throat.

He departed the room and phoned the school, then went to his lab and brewed three potions, a fever reducer, a pain reliever, and a headache remedy. When he returned to Harry's room, he found the boy thrashing about, burning to the touch, and barely conscious.

Severus fought to keep calm, to maintain his legendary control. It had never been so hard. Never had he wanted to panic so badly, but he forced himself to remain cool and collected. Harry needed a Healer, not a hysterical parent.

He gently lifted the boy, giving him the fever reducer first, and then the other potions afterwards. Some of the hectic red flush faded from Harry's skin, but he still felt like a furnace to Severus's hands. He performed another diagnostic and saw to his dismay that Harry's fever had not dropped as rapidly as it should've. It was now 102.

The boy began to tremble violently and Severus began to wipe him down with a cool cloth, trying to bring down his fever and ease the chill with a warming spell.

Over the next two hours, Harry's fever soared up and down, regardless of how many potions Severus poured down his throat. He was alternately wracked with violent chills and cramps, and the pain relievers seemed to have little effect.

Severus racked his brain, trying to figure out what ailed the child. He knew his diseases, both magical and Muggle. But this one eluded him.

Harry was restless, crying out in his sleep, clearly dreaming of the Death Eaters from the little he spoke. Snape did his best to soothe him, stroking his sweat soaked hair and singing all the lullabies Lily used to sing to her son when he wouldn't go to sleep. Nothing worked. His son remained caught inbetween dreams and reality, a prisoner in his own mind.

Aurelia came in, bringing Severus water and tea and toast, making the agitated father eat before he made himself sick as well. "Severus, maybe you'd better bring him to the hospital. How high is his fever now?"

Severus checked Harry's temperature again and nearly fainted. "105! Bloody hell, Aunt Relia! I need to bring it down NOW!"

"Ice and a tub of cold water, Sev," Aurelia instructed. "And keep giving him that potion, it might have some effect."

She set about running a bath, and Severus re-administered the potion, knowing he was fast reaching the limit of how many times he could give Harry the draft without harming him.

He carried his son into the bathroom, where Aurelia had run a cool bath and conjured large amounts of ice cubes into the tub. Then he quickly stripped his son and lowered him into the freezing water.

Harry cried and tried to get away, pleading for them to stop hurting him, his voice hoarse and broken. "Please . . .I'm so hot . . .Please . . .don't hurt me . . ."

"Hush, son. Just relax. I'm here, you're safe. Harry, listen to me," Severus talked to him gently, reassuring him he was not alone.

Harry opened his eyes, his green orbs filled with fever and pain. "Where . . .oww . . .cold . . ."

"I know, child. But you've got a bad fever and the ice water will help. Lie still, Harry. Don't fight me." Severus held him firmly by the shoulders in the water, gritting his teeth as the teenager splashed and whimpered.

"Dad?"

"I'm right here, Harry. I've got you. Just relax and let the water take away your fever, all right?"

Harry nodded before lapsing back into that twilight world once more.

Severus kept him in the water for over twenty minutes, until he began to shiver and his skin took on a slight blue tinge. Then he removed the delirious boy and dried him off with a flick of his wand. He replaced Harry's pajamas and underwear and carried him back to bed. His temperature was now 101.

Still feverish, he scowled, but not as bad as before. Damn it all, why can't I make this bloody fever break? What's causing this?

The symptoms were nothing he'd ever been trained to diagnose, and in desperation, he firecalled the Hogwarts Infirmary and spoke to Poppy, breaking his own rule of secrecy.

But the medi-witch was at a loss as to what Harry had, and she could only tell him to do what he'd already been doing, since the virus or whatever it was would not respond to standard disease curing spells.

Hours passed and still Harry grew no better. His body sweated and burned, his temperature fluctuating so violently Severus feared for his life. Twice more he put Harry back into the ice water bath, for he couldn't give him any more potions to reduce fevers. He poured cool water down the teen's throat with a straw, massaging the boy's throat till he swallowed, so he wouldn't get dehydrated.

The fever raged and Harry remained comatose.

Terrified, Severus held the child close and prayed for God to make his only son well, tears falling on the child's feverish face. Please, please don't take my son from me. I need him, he's all I've got. Harry, don't leave me.

He spoke those words aloud, not even realizing he'd done so. He was exhausted from fighting this bloody virus that sought to take his child, but he could not rest. Not until Harry was out of danger. Only then would he close his eyes.

Around midnight, Harry suffered the worst attack yet, his fever soaring to a new deadly high and he began convulsing and turning blue because the spasms were cutting off his airway. Frantic now, Severus fought to keep Harry's airway open, using a tongue depressor and a spell invented to ease asthmatic patients. The child bucked and thrashed in his arms like a possessed thing, all his muscles rigid and locked.

Severus practically threw himself on top of his child, pinning him to the bed with sheer brute force, praying desperately, Lord, please hear me! Don't take my boy from me, please, I beg of You. I never beg, but this time I will, for I will do anything, humble myself however I need to, in order to save my child.

Tears dampened his cheeks as he pressed down on Harry's shoulders, trying to immobilize the boy as much as possible, so he didn't injure himself while he convulsed. He could have cast a Body Bind, but he didn't want to use magic just yet, not when he could be touching the child who meant everything in the world to him. His precious baby boy, whom he had loved since the first moment he'd seen him in the hospital, all red-faced and bawling with the shock and indignity of being born. The miracle created by him and Lily, the very best thing ever.

"Breathe, Harry! You can do it. That's it, child." Severus encouraged, his voice breaking as he saw how hard his son struggled for air. "Good job. In and out! Please, Harry! Keep breathing, damn you! Where's that bloody Snape stubbornness, where's the Gryffindor eleventh-hour courage?"

The child's skin was like a furnace, and he trembled violently, freezing and burning alternately.

Severus wiped him down with a cool cloth, Harry at last managed to pull in some air and coughed and threw up. But Severus knew that was coming, and Scourgified the mess afterwards. During the convulsion, the boy had also lost control over other bodily functions and Severus carefully cleaned him up, thanking Merlin Harry was not conscious, he would have been mortified to death.

Severus wasn't bothered, his training as a Healer enabled him to deal with such things and after he'd massaged his son's cramping muscles and spelled fresh clothing on him, he tried once more to bring down the blasted fever with potions.

They barely had an effect, except to make Harry stop convulsing somewhat. But that was all. Severus wanted to scream, tear his hair out, and cry, he was so bloody frustrated and frightened. "Please, Harry, please . . ." he murmured over and over, rocking his son back and forth. "Come back to me . . .don't go . . .not yet . . ." Tears spilled from his eyes to fall on his son's burning hot cheek, where they evaporated. More soon took their place. Severus didn't even realize he was crying, he was too caught up in his emotional whirlpool of hope, despair, and fear, along with love.

Severus remained awake for over twenty-four hours, fighting the strange disease, until his body couldn't take the strain any longer and he fell asleep still holding Harry in his arms.

Harry's fever soared back up into the 104 register, and all at once he began to shake, every muscle in his body spasming. Then all at once he was still, sagging back into his father's arms like a ragdoll. The mysterious fever had finally broken.

And the Boy Who Lived breathed still.

• * * * * * *

Severus woke to find Harry cool and sweaty in his arms. "Oh thank you, God!" he wept. "The fever's broken!"

He quickly wiped his son down with warm water, put new pajamas on him and changed the sheets on the bed before tucking the sleeping child in it. Harry never woke, but Snape was not worried. This was a normal sleep, a healing sleep, just what Harry needed.

He ran another diagnostic and discovered that Harry was perfectly fine save for general exhaustion. It made no sense. Severus wanted to rip out his hair. As an afterthought he checked on the state of Harry's magic, expecting to find the usual low level traces.

Instead he found Harry's magical core totally restored.

Severus nearly collapsed from shock.

"Bloody damn hell!" he recast the spell.

The result was the same.

Harry's magic had returned, who knew how or why, and he was once more a true wizard.

Harry slept all the rest of that day and the next, his body working to replenish itself from the fever, which had mysteriously restored his magic. Severus had no idea if the fever was a result of Harry's magic replenishing itself so quickly, or if the spell used to shatter his magic had suddenly worn off, and that was what had caused Harry to become ill so suddenly.

To be quite honest, the Potions Master didn't really care how it had happened right then, only that his son was no longer in danger of dying. He'd woken briefly around noon and Severus had asked him his name and where he was and Harry had answered the questions correctly, reassuring his father that the fever hadn't affected his brain the way he'd feared.

After that, Severus had allowed himself to go to bed as well, where he slept for a full sixteen hours and woke feeling refreshed. Once he'd showered and gotten changed into regular clothes, the tall wizard went and made himself some breakfast, even though it was nearer lunchtime. Then he went back and checked on his son, who was still sleeping, and told Aurelia the good news.

He also dashed off a letter to Poppy reassuring her that all was well with her most frequent patient, and then he returned to Harry's bedside to wait until his son awoke.

That was the first sight that met Harry's eyes, his father sitting in a transfigured desk chair (it had become a recliner), reading a book. That itself was nothing unusual, Severus was a bookworm and devoured books like a chocoholic did candy. What was odd was that Sev was in Harry's room and he was reading The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe from the Chronicles of Narnia set. He had never known his father read Muggle fiction. Harry had already finished the first three books and was now on the fourth.

Cautiously, the teen sat up, and was happy to find that his head no longer hurt and he was no longer feverish and shivering. He wondered what had been wrong with him. Some kind of bug, no doubt. Must've picked it up at school. But Dad cured it with his potions, I'll bet.

He cleared his throat and Severus immediately dropped the book and looked up. "Harry! You're awake finally. How do you feel?"

"Better. Can I have some water?"

"Yes, of course. You need to drink plenty of liquids, that awful fever dehydrated you."

Severus summoned a large glass of ice water and another of some kind of red juice that Harry thought might be cherry Gatorade. "I want you to drink all of them," he instructed, taking Harry's temperature again with a quick wave of his wand. It was normal.

Harry obeyed, drinking both the juice and the water. Afterwards he felt much better and Severus allowed him to use the bathroom and get dressed, though he insisted Harry not do anything strenuous and eat something.

Rosie thrust her muzzle into Harry's palm, and he smiled and petted her. "Hey, girl. Did you miss me playing with you?"

"She was very worried, Harry. She lay all night and all day beside your bed and refused to move. I had to carry her outside and she rushed back to you as soon as she was finished. I think you scared her half to death, same as you did me."

"I did? I was that sick? I don't remember any of it."

"You were running a temperature of 104 continuously, despite all my potions. I couldn't bring it down, until yesterday when it just broke by itself."

"Oh. Well, that's good, right?"

"Very good indeed. And there is one more thing that occurred while you wandered in fever dreams, son."

"Was it good or bad?"

"I would say it's a very good thing." Severus handed Harry his wand. "Go on, cast something."

Harry waved his wand and cast the Light spell. "Lumos!"

The tip of his wand lit up effortlessly.

Harry gazed up at his father in shock, his emerald eyes filling with tears. "I-I can cast spells again. My magic . . .it's back!" Tears spilled over his cheeks, he was so delighted he couldn't contain his emotions. He started to laugh and cry simultaneously, unable to help himself.

He feared Severus would scold him for acting like a weepy weak baby, but all his father did was hug him, holding him until he'd managed to stop crying and laughing like a fool. Harry shut his eyes and felt the place where his magic resided deep within him. The gaping hole was once again filled with golden warmth and his restored magic blazed brighter than any fire to his magical senses.

"How did it happen, Dad?"

"I haven't the faintest idea, Harry," admitted the older wizard. "It's a miracle. Don't question it."

"Okay. What can I have to eat? I'm starving."

• * * * * * *

That same day, Mia visited him and was very relieved that Harry was getting better. "You really scared me!" she scolded, waving a finger at him. "I was afraid you were gonna go to heaven like Grandpa did. You even scared your dad."

Harry fought back a smile at the thought of his father ever being so frightened. "I'm okay, Mia. It was just a flu or whatever. I'm a little tired right now, but by tomorrow I'll be better."

"Then we can go flying right?"

"Sure, kid. But right now how about we read or play cards?"

Mia was agreeable to that and they spent the afternoon engaged quietly, until Harry couldn't keep awake any longer and fell asleep. Mia tiptoed out of the room and went to play with Rosie until Melody said it was time for dinner.

Harry's recovery was rapid after that, and he was back in school three days after his mysterious fever. He even explained to Neil about losing his magic, for the point was moot now that it was back, though he of course didn't tell him about the Death Eaters or how he'd once been known as Harry Potter.

"That's great, Harry. I had sort of wondered why you never used magic when we were together. How long was it gone?"

Harry added it up in his head. "Uh, six months give or take a day or two. I don't know how I ever lived without it."

"Like a Muggle," his friend joked and Harry smiled.

Then they both went down to the basement for their daily potions lesson with Snape.

• * * * * *

While the return of Harry's magic was a cause for celebration, it also was a source of constant worry for Severus. Because with Harry an active wizard again, he'd have to make a choice, a very difficult one. Harry was a very powerful wizard, and Severus knew he could not hide the boy away forever, even with glamours and suppression charms.

No, now Harry had to make a choice, whether to stay in the United States and be just plain Harrison Remus Snape, wizard, or return to Hogwarts and fulfill Dumbledore's prophecy by facing and eventually killing Voldemort.

Severus knew he'd have to sit down and have a talk with Harry soon about his choices, and make sure he understood the ramifications of each of them. He then firecalled Lupin and told him the startling news as well.

"You know what this means, Sev," the werewolf began.

"Yes, now Harry must choose," sighed the Potions Master.

"Not only that, but you have to choose as well, my friend. If Harry does decide to return to Hogwarts, what will you do?"

Severus bit back a sigh. "Remus, he's my son. Whatever he decides, I'll go with him. That's not even an option, it's a statement of fact. But I want him to make the choice with all the facts at hand, not be coerced or badgered into it."

"Oh? Well, if I were you, Sev, I'd hurry up and have that talk tonight, because the old man in the office has already sent an owl out, trying to persuade his missing champion to return."

Severus cursed softly. "I should have expected that, after all I broke my own cover by Flooing Poppy a few days ago, and of course he'd have monitored all the firecalls. Now he won't waste a second trying to persuade poor Harry around to his way of thinking. Thanks again, Moony."

"Bye, Sev. And good luck."

Severus withdrew from the fireplace and went to find his son.

• * * * * * *

Harry was easy to find, he was standing in the backyard, gently stroking a strange owl that Snape recognized as one belonging to Hogwarts. He held a white envelope in one hand. Severus didn't need to be a Seer to know who it was from.

The owl flew off and Harry turned the envelope over in his hands, frowning. He looked up at Severus's approach. "Dad. I've got a letter here from the Headmaster. Should I open it?"

"He doesn't waste any time, now does he?" grumbled the black-robed professor. "If you want to see what he has to say, by all means, read it, Harry."

Harry did, tearing open the envelope to reveal a sheet with the Hogwarts crest and bumblebee stamped on it, the Headmaster's personal stationary. It was short, only a few lines.

Dear Harry,

I wish to offer you my sincerest congratulations on the return of your magic. I am very glad your gift has finally come back to you as we'd hoped that long ago night in the infirmary. However, you must also realize that with great power comes great responsibility, my boy. It is in the interests of everyone, not just myself, that I ask you to return to Hogwarts and finish out your magical studies. Hogwarts can protect you best and it is imperative that you learn the prophecy spoken at your birth, so you can be prepared to face Tom and remove him from the game. I firmly believe you and only you can accomplish this task. Please think on it, and know that you have my fondest regards and my deepest apologies as well.

Sincerely,

Professor Albus Dumbledore

Headmaster

PS: Tell your father he is also in my thoughts of late and I offer him my sincerest apologies as well, for mistakes both past and present.

Wordlessly, Harry handed the letter to Snape to read.

Severus's face grew stony, then he sighed heavily and said, "Come inside, Harry. We need to talk."

• * * * * * *

Severus laid everything out on the table, explaining about the prophecy Dumbledore believed in so wholeheartedly, which concerned a child born as the seventh month died to parents who had thrice defied the will of the Dark Lord, who would mark him as his own and who would have a power the Dark Lord knows not, and by this must either defeat him or else be defeated by him.

"Dumbledore believes that the scar on your forehead you received from surviving the Killing Curse has marked you out as Voldemort's adversary. What's even worse is that the followers of the Dark One himself believe it also, that's why they were trying so hard to kill you. It is also one of the reasons I was working for the Order as a spy, to keep you safe by learning their plans. Should he ever return, he will be looking to find you and slay you, for he too believes in the prophecy uttered by Trelawney."

"Do you?"

"No," Severus said emphatically. "A prophecy is a double edged sword and can be interpreted many different ways, depending on how you choose to read it. I believe it shows one possible future, perhaps the most likely to occur given all the conditions are met. But it is by no means set in stone and therefore I put no stock in them." He steepled his fingers. "Not anymore. I let Albus and the others persuade me once to take the prophecy at face value, as a guide, and hide you away as James's son. In doing so I cost us both your mother and a happy childhood. I will not be manipulated again into doing so. But that is me. You must make your own decision, Harry. Do you wish to be a hero, as the prophecy foretells, or an ordinary wizard?"

"But if I don't go back, who will defeat Voldemort?"

"Oh, I'm sure the rest of the witches and wizards who banded together the first time can come up with a solution on how best to kill a madman. Instead of placing all the responsibility on a boy just barely into his teens. Children shouldn't be placed on the front lines of a battlefield. We're meant to protect our future, not throw it away."

Harry nodded, but he still had one more question. "If I-if I ever did decide to go back to Hogwarts, will you come with me, Dad?"

"Do you even have to ask? I will be with you, Harry, right up until the second you blow that bastard carrion crow back to hell. And that's my prophecy, if you like." He gripped his son's hand tightly. "Here then is my promise to you, son, wizard to wizard. If you ever face Voldemort again, you won't do it alone. Together we shall send the bloody bugger back to hell and go home afterwards. Cooperation is a power the Dark One knows not."

Harry smiled up at his father and suddenly he was no longer afraid. His father would not abandon him. If he chose to return, he would still have his dad there to rely on, to protect and defend him, and offer advice if necessary. And if he chose to stay, his dad would still be there, solid and unwavering in his love and support.

"I have to think about this."

"Take all the time you need. I'm in no rush, Harry. I just wanted you to be able to make an informed decision. And to know that whatever happens, I will be there."

"Thanks, Dad," his son murmured, and allowed his father to hug him for a moment, letting Severus's strength shelter him. Then he drew away and mounted his Meteor 2001. Flying always helped him think more clearly.

• * * * * * *

By the end of the week, Harry was still agonizing over the choice. It seemed simple on the surface, but actually it wasn't. For Harry had come to love the life he had now, just being the son of Severus Snape, Potions Master. Here he was part of a family again, permitted to be an ordinary child, one who had ordinary friends and did normal things, one who could walk down the street and not be pointed at or whispered about, who did not have to be hidden away like a priceless treasure to protect him from a raving megalomaniac. Here he was free to be just Harry Snape, thirteen-year-old wizard, who had a father that loved him, and who made mistakes sometimes, but those mistakes did not cost lives and only cost him a scolding and grounding.

An ordinary life as an ordinary wizard.

But on the other hand, he was the Chosen of the prophecy, the one destined to defeat the darkest wizard of the age, the last hope of the wizarding world, if Dumbledore was correct. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, and all the responsibility that went with it. To that end, he had been hidden away, and his mother had sacrificed herself for him. To that end his father had become a spy and risked his life to protect his son. All so he could grow up to be Voldemort's doom.

A hero and a hero's destiny.

Why must this be so hard? I should be able to choose by now. I don't want to be bloody Voldy's doom. But neither do I want everyone I love to die because I was too much of a coward to face him. If I choose wrong, who will pay the price? Me, or everyone else who believed in me? Damn it all, I don't want to be Dumbledore's hero, I'm sick of being the front page headline! But if I walk away, who then will take my place? For someone must, I know that much. If not Harry, then who? Dumbledore, Remus, Hagrid. Maybe one of my schoolmates. God forbid, maybe Ron or Hermione.

He didn't know if he could live with that, putting one of his friends in danger that way. He seesawed back and forth, unable to make a decision, and unwilling to ask his father for any more advice. Severus had given him all he could, and now Harry must choose for himself.

Would he make the right decision?

It was the nightmare and the clipping from the Daily Prophet that finally caused him to make up his mind. The nightmare began the same as it always had, himself in the stone cell, surrounded by Death Eaters, wands pointed at him, ready to cast the Cruciatus Curse, holding knotted cords in their hands to beat him with. But then the dream changed and suddenly he was no longer in the cell, but watching from a distance, as the Death Eaters held, Ron, Hermione, Neil, and Mia prisoner, and did to them what had been done to him, until they lay dead on the cold stone floor.

Helpless, he watched as more prisoners were led in, Remus, Dumbledore, Hagrid, the Weasleys. All of them were tortured and died and he could not stop it.

This is the choice you made, Harry. This is what will be.

But the last was the worst. For the last and final victim was his father, Severus Snape, and him they played with before finally granting him death's sweet solace.

Harry screamed and begged, but was powerless.

And this too shall come to pass, for what ordinary wizard can stand against the might of Voldemort?

He woke with a scream still lodged in the back of his throat, his heart pounding crazily like a runaway express train. It took him several minutes to calm down, stop shaking, and go back to sleep. But his sleep was uneasy and filled with darkness.

The next morning he dragged himself out of bed and went to school. A letter from Hermione was waiting when he got home. Inside it was a clipping from the Daily Prophet. Death Eaters Target Muggle Home! Entire family killed, Aurors arrive too late to help.

Hermione had written that this had scared her so badly she wished she could go into hiding with her parents, before Death Eaters came to her home next.

It gave Harry cold chills reading that article. It begins again. Like it did last time, when Tom Riddle first came to power. The death, the killings, innocents dragged into the middle of a war they never knew existed. Who will stand up for them, if I don't? Who cares about Muggles as well as wizards as much as I do, who has both in my family, and who knows that both are needed to make the world whole? Who knows best the mind of the enemy, who was once a victim and once a champion? Me. Dad was right. Prophecy is what you interpret it to be. And I choose to interpret it as me defeating Voldemort, not as the lone hero, but as part of a team. Cooperation is a power the Dark Lord has not. And this time we ‘ll show the bugger what it means to mess with us, and let him dance with Reaper one final time.

Decision made, he set the letter down on his desk. Harry would return to Hogwarts, but not alone. The Chosen One would fulfill the prophecy, but on terms of his own choosing. He rose and went to go and find his father.

Severus was labeling potion bottles in his lab when Harry came in. He could tell from the determined look in the boy's eyes that Harry had finally made a decision, and therefore he wasn't surprised when the first words out of his son's mouth were, "I've decided, Dad. I have to go back to Hogwarts. I don't want to, but I have to. But I'm not going to be Dumbledore's puppet. I won't be Harry Potter the Boy Who Lived. I'll be Harry Snape, your son. And together we'll kick Voldy's ass."

"Right back to hell where he belongs, son. Spoken like a true Snape," said the father of the Chosen One. He caught his son in a fierce embrace. "I'm sorry, Harry, that you had to make this choice. I wanted so much for you to have a normal life, the one you deserved so long ago."

"I know. And I will have it, Dad. Once Voldemort's gone for good and all, I can be what I was born to be, just Harrison Remus Snape." He buried his face in his father's shoulder, inhaling the familiar odors of spices and sandalwood that was the Potion Master's unique scent.

"Yes, Harry. You'll always be that," whispered Severus, stroking the silky black hair. "What made you decide to go back?"

"It was . . .I just had to," Harry floundered. "If I don't, he'll come back stronger than before and who will fight him if I don't? They've already begun killing Muggles again, Dad, it was in the Prophet. I can't let that happen, it's not their fight, it's ours." He swallowed sharply. "I'm afraid, Dad. What if I screw up and he wins?"

"Harry," Severus hugged him hard. "You do not have to play the hero simply because Dumbledore asked you to. You're only thirteen, it shouldn't be your task to fight a madman. You can stay here and grow up a normal teenager."

But Harry was shaking his head. "I want to, Dad, you don't know how much, but I can't . . .Mum died for me, and he killed her. He deserves to pay for that."

"Harry, revenge isn't a good motive," warned Severus. "Revenge will destroy you, trust me."

"That's not the only reason I'm going back, Dad. I'm going back so her sacrifice wasn't in vain and so kids like Mia will grow up free of his shadow. Nobody should have to live in fear, in a world where a crazy wizard can kill you just for existing. Can you understand that?" he gazed earnestly at his parent, his green eyes glowing with the heat of his conviction.

"Yes. I want you to know that I'm proud of you, son, for having the courage and the determination to make such a decision, one that no child your age should have to make. It isn't even one most adults should have to make, and I wish that I could simply forbid you to do so. However, I promised you long ago that I would never control you that way, and hard as it may be, I shall keep that promise." His hold tightened about Harry, emphasizing his feelings the way mere words could not. "But you may come to me anytime for advice or whenever you need space from your irritating teenage friends or anything at all. My door is always open, day or night, for you."

Harry felt tears well up in his eyes at that last, and he sniffed hard, refusing to cry. Saviors of the wizarding world didn't cry on their father's shoulders like sentimental idiots. "Thanks, Dad," he managed to whisper, rubbing his face against his father's robe. He too wished he could be, just once, a normal kid, whose only concern was school and convincing his father to let him go to a Quidditch match. God, how he wished that! But since it was not to be, he had to face facts and deal with the cards he'd been dealt. "Will you teach me how to fight? Uncle Moony said you were an ace at Defense, even better than he was."

"I shall, child. And you won't be alone. I intend to be with you until the end, Harry, and make certain you survive and not Riddle. This I swear by all that I am."

Harry heaved a relieved sigh and leaned against his father, allowing himself to be a child once more.

For long moments they remained so, drawing strength from each other, fortifying themselves against the task they had to complete. At last they parted, and identical gleams of determination shone in their eyes.

But first they had one more obstacle to meet. They had to say goodbye.

• * * * * * *

It was a difficult parting, though Severus never expected it to be easy. Mia took their leaving especially hard, crying and clinging to Harry and himself alternately, utterly desolate. Harry swore he'd return one day and so would Severus. "But we have to do this really important thing first, Mia mine," the older boy told her, kneeling down and looking her right in the eyes. "But when it's finished, we'll come back. This is our home too, you know."

"Promise?"

"You've my wizard's oath on it, Mia Barry. And that's a promise that'll never be broken." Harry said solemnly.

"How long will you be gone?"

"I don't know. Could be months, kid. Maybe even years. But I will return."

She threw her arms about him. "I'll miss you. A lot."

"Me too," he sniffled, tears falling on her hair. Then he had an idea, something that might help ease her loneliness a little. "Tell you what. I want you to keep Rosie for me, Mia. Will you do that for me?"

She stared at him. "Oh, Harry!" she cried. "I'd love to."

"Good. Then she's yours."

"But I can't."

"Why not?"

"My daddy's allergic. And besides, you'll need her to remember me by and to keep you company when you have nightmares. She was a birthday present and you can't give away a birthday present, Harry," she informed him. "Don't you know anything?"

Harry laughed at the look she was giving him and hugged her one last time. She had the Prince generosity in full measure. "I do now, brat. Thanks for telling me." Then he smirked and wondered what Ron would say when he brought his new pet to school. A beagle at Hogwarts. Something tells me the school will never be the same. "I'll write, okay?"

"You'd better, mister," she warned. "Else I'll have Neil send you a Howler, Harrison Remus Snape."

Laughing, Harry picked her up and spun her around. "Be good, brat. You'll be a witch to be reckoned with someday. Just like the rest of us Snapes."

She smiled up at him then. And Aurelia snapped their picture.

The other partings were no less painful, but Aurelia had suspected this day would come when she heard the rumors of dark activity start up again in Britain and Europe. So she bid her nephews goodbye with a minimum of tears and lots of hugs, extracting from them a promise of her own, that they would write her as well and when their task was done, come and stay for good, since she had willed them her house.

Neil was the last person Harry said goodbye to, and it was then that he told his friend the truth about his past and who he had been. The other wizard was astonished to learn that he had made friends with the famous Harry Potter and kept babbling about what an honor it was until Harry socked him in the shoulder and yelled, "Merlin, knock it off, MacIntyre! I'm the same person I always was, don't you see?"

"No you're not. You're Harry Potter."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Big deal. So what? I'm the same Harry who played Quidditch with you, dope. The same Harry who got sick as a dog from drinking spiked punch too. Remember?" he elbowed his friend lightly in the ribs. "I'm still me, Neil, whether I'm called Harry Potter or Harry Snape. Now quit acting like an idiot and take my Nimbus."

"I can't do that!"

"You can and you will. Happy birthday."

"My birthday's not till another month!"

"So it's an early birthday present. Now shut up and take it, MacIntyre."

"Okay, Snape. No need to get all steamed. Thanks!"

"You're welcome. And next time one of Mike's dumb friends start bragging about how he's got a signed Snitch from Krum or whatever, you can tell him you've got Harry Potter's Nimbus 2000 and shut them right up."

Neil just laughed, knowing he had something even better than a broom, he had a true friend. "Want to go for one last flight? For old times' sake?"

"Sure." Harry agreed, and mounted his Meteor.

When they had enough of flying, Harry asked Neil for a favor. "I want to know if you can show me a few spells without a wand. I think it might be useful once I go back to school at Hogwarts. Certain people might not take too well to me being Sev's son, so I need to have an edge against them."

"Sure. What would you like to learn?"

They spent the rest of the day before Harry left going over several wandless hexes and jinxes and some protective spells as well, enough to give Harry an edge in a fight if he was disarmed. Afterwards, Harry thanked Neil and promised he'd write and maybe even return in the summer, if his dad permitted it. He didn't want to lose touch with Neil, who was a very good friend, the first one he'd ever had in America.

• * * * * * *

On a sunny day in early March two figures in black robes could be seen walking up the path to the gates of Hogwarts School. Beside them gamboled a young tricolor beagle and overhead flew a snowy owl and a tawny one. They walked slowly and deliberately, for both of them knew the way to the castle and had no fear they would lose their way, despite the misdirection charms upon the path.

The taller of the two pushed open the gates with a tap of his wand and entered the grounds, followed by the puppy and his son. Their arrival was not greeted with any kind of fanfare or a dozen reporters snapping pictures in their faces. But on the stairs of the venerable institution waited a slightly stooped old man in flamboyant purple robes.

He smiled genially at them as they approached, his blue eyes twinkling behind his half moon glasses. "Welcome back, Harry and Severus. I trust your trip went well?"

"As well as can be expected, Headmaster," said Severus formally. He was willing to work with Dumbledore strictly on a professional level, but nothing more.

The old wizard saw this and some of the sparkle went out of his eyes. He had forgotten how long Severus could hold grudges. But perhaps the boy would be more forgiving. He turned to Harry. "I'm glad you've returned to us, my boy. You have a busy half a year ahead of you, what with classes and all. But you'll manage, you always do."

"That's right, sir," answered Harry stiffly. Then he drew himself up to his full height and said softly, "I just want you to know, sir, I didn't come back to fulfill your prophecy, or for you, I came back to save the innocent people who were drawn into this damn war, Muggles like my cousin, and if killing Riddle is what it takes to keep scum like that from killing again, I'll do it. But not as the Chosen One."

Dumbledore looked puzzled. "Whatever do you mean, Harry? You are the Chosen One, marked as such."

"Voldemort might have marked me, but that doesn't make me chosen," Harry snapped. "The Chosen One was Harry Potter. But that boy doesn't exist anymore, Professor. I am, and always will be, a Snape. Harrison Remus Snape, and that's what I want down in the record books."

"Very well, Mr. Snape. It shall be done," Albus Dumbledore said, and then he bowed to the younger wizard. "Whatever your reasons for returning, Harry, know that I am very glad you did. And I hope that you can let bygones be bygones."

Harry hesitated. He wanted to take the olive branch the Headmaster offered, but he didn't want the other to think he could be forgiven without making an apology to his father, who seemed to get overlooked once again.

"I can, if you will agree to apologize to my dad for what you did to him," Harry stated softly.

"I shall."

"Publically. In front of the whole school."

"Harry!" Severus objected. Inwardly his heart thrilled at his son's defense, but he didn't want the boy to anger the Headmaster. One should always be wary of rousing a wizard's wrath.

"Fair's fair, Dad." He turned back to the Headmaster. "Well? Those are my terms. Take it or leave it."

"Agreed." Albus said swiftly. "I see you've learned how to bargain like a Slytherin, Harry."

"Yeah, I have. Just like my dad," the boy said pointedly.

Then together the two black-robed wizards swept by the Headmaster, cloaks billowing, and entered the school, followed by Hedwig and Rosie.

Behind them, Albus Dumbledore smirked. His plan had worked perfectly. Six months ago, the man and the boy had left the school divided by old resentments and painful memories. But now they returned fully healed and a family, truly a force to be reckoned with. Voldemort would never know what hit him.

Then the Headmaster followed his two wayward students into the school. It would be an interesting rest of the year, and a future with many surprises