Not again, the thought came unbidden as a small boy with black hair, sitting on his bed, heard the recognizable crash that announced his father had arrived home. Drawing himself up as he barley stopped himself from wincing, the boy moved his tiny body towards the bathroom that was connected to his bedroom. Best stay out of his way tonight.

But Tobias had other thoughts as he made his way up the stairs to his son’s bedroom, knocking some of the pictures off the wall as he went along.

Severus could hear his father rampaging on the other side of the bathroom door. Hopefully mum can fix anything that he breaks. Reaching into the medicine cabinet above the sink to get a bruise salve, Severus heard a distinct crash. Probably my lamp…you’d better not lose any of the pieces this time. Severus opened the tin of bruise salve and began to apply it onto his arms and legs, finishing with a liberal layer to his stomach and chest. The abrasions were already healing nicely enough and so he didn’t worry about them. After placing the tin back into the medicine cabinet, Severus sat on the toilet seat, waiting for his father to finish his tirade.

Severus didn’t have to wait long, not for an end to the yelling but for a dramatic increase in the amount and level of shouting and swearing. His mother had entered his room. And that fact made Severus’ stomach drop to the ground. Mum.

Severus stood faster than he should have, and made it to the door in two seconds, leaving his stomach on the floor at the foot of the toilet. The door, as it wrenched open caught Tobias’ attention; he turned from the woman standing in the door of the bedroom.

“Severus, what are you doing? I’ve been calling for you for the past hour and a half,” he snarled through clenched teeth set in a flushed face.

“That’s not likely. You’ve only been in my room for five minutes.”

Tobias began to move towards the smaller boy saying, “I’ll say whatever I damn well please and you’ll learn to hold your tongue.”

A movement to Severus’ left drew his eyes to his mother as she was making her way towards her son. She got to Severus’ side faster than Tobias and placed herself protectively in front of her son despite his protests and half-hearted shoving to get her to move.

“No, Severus,” she said over her shoulder and continued towards her husband, “Haven’t you done enough, Tobias? Leave the boy be,” leveling a glare towards his reddened face.

“Apparently not, as he continues to defy me in this way. Now move out of the way, Eileen and allow me to rectify the situation.”

She squared her shoulders and stood facing her husband, not fully prepared for the hand that struck out at her. Unable to move out of the way fast enough, Tobias’ open hand connected with the side of his wife’s head, causing her to fall out of the way.

“Mum!”

Severus sat up so suddenly in bed that he saw stars. Damn. Rubbing his temple and standing slowly as to not give himself an even greater headache, he made his way to his private lab in the dungeons of Hogwarts.

Brewing always helped Severus Snape relax. It was one of the few things that did and he really needed to relax now. A quick tempus charm revealed the time to be 2:53 am. Damn, he muttered under his breath again, and these dreams continue to grow worse. Loath as he was to admit it, Severus was having nightmares every night.

They usually weren’t that bad, as far as nightmares go. One or two a month was a small price to pay as a double-agent for a sadistic killer and a benevolent wizard, one being the complete opposite of the other. This was his normal circumstance, but a nightmare every time his eyes closed was a problem. It wasn’t Severus’ Occlumency, he was certain his shields never slipped. It wasn’t that the Dark Lord was putting these thoughts into his head, although Severus didn’t know where he was and knew he was not dead, however he was certain the Dark Lord incapable of planting memories into the forefront of his mind. It wasn’t that he was insane, or Severus hoped not.

Ever since he had read Lily’s diary, ever since he had talked to Dumbledore, ever since he’d visited Privet Drive, Severus Snape could not thinking about Harry Potter…his son. There was no way around it. Every waking thought was consumed by the child, soon to be ten years old. With trepidation, Severus realized too that every sleeping moment could be related back to the child as well.

The dream that seemed to be the start of it all starred Severus’ father, Tobias. It was a drastically realistic representation of the nights that his father had returned home from a bar or friend’s house drunk in those weeks after Severus’ mother died. Tobias never appreciated his son and that feeling of discord was only strengthened after a few stiff hard drinks. It seemed that Severus was never in the correct place at the correct time for when his father came home, he was always a sitting duck for the anger and pain that emanated from Tobias. It wasn’t often that Tobias extracted his revenge on his son, but nevertheless, Severus became extremely practiced in brewing healing potions.

Severus had dreamt several variations of this dream, all displaying to him what he could become. And it worried him to no end. How could he be sure that he wouldn’t become his father since Lily was no longer there to prevent it? Severus really did believe it was Lily that kept him tolerable to others, her kindness and enthusiasm balancing out his own constrained emotions.

But I will not convince myself that I can care for a child alone now. What am I talking about? Harry Potter the Blessed Boy-Who-Lived most likely will not even wish to reside with me. I certainly will not be following him around day and night ready to adhere to his every whim. Who would willingly enter into a situation where you are no longer worshiped? He will choose to stay with his relatives. But at least I can offer, albeit make a fool of myself.

But what Severus really needed was to see Harry. The previous night’s surveillance revealed nothing of importance, save that the Dursleys were hospitable people. This only deepened Severus’ feelings of regret, that he had not been there from the start, that he would not be able to live up to Harry’s expectations, that he would not be good enough. So it was with a general air of dejection that Severus returned to his brewing, attempting to finalize his plan, which was proving difficult.

Glancing at the clock on his wall, Severus muttered a curse. It was 5:29 am and he had yet to complete a potion, and was still not fully prepared for his next visit to the Dursley’s residence. His mind was so muddled that he didn’t even realize when he put in three drops of pomegranate juice rather than the five drops of salamander blood that the Strengthening Solution called for. Cursing once more, Severus began to clean up his potions lab, Vanishing the ruined contents of his cauldron. It seemed as though the mundane task of cleaning was just what he needed to organize his thoughts. For in those few minutes of straightening and returning ingredients to their rightful places, Severus realized that the simplest answer could be the best.

With that thought and a strategy to discover if Harry Potter would come live with him or simply attend Hogwarts, Severus left the relative safety and security of his lab once again to the unpredictable realm of sleep.

~*~*~*~

Harry was so relieved that the visitor wasn’t his Aunt Marge that he didn’t realize that the man who was sitting on the couch next to Uncle Vernon kept his hard gaze trained on him as he went to sit on the chair that Aunt Petunia guided him towards. Harry maintained his staring contest with the floor, trying to reduce the number of times he blinked.

This was a customary activity that Harry often partook of to pass the time when his presence was required by Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. They didn’t appreciate eye contact from Harry and so he simply stared down at the floor or his too-large trainers. Finding a small faded red-stained patch of carpet, Harry paled. From my thrashing, what if this man is from the orphanage? What if Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon really are giving me away this time?

Panicking, Harry could hardly sit still. His eyes began to water, his palms became sticky with sweat, and his bum burned with renewed fervor. Attempting to still his now shaking hands, Harry was overcome with an urge to look up. He did, meeting the eyes of the man sitting next to Uncle Vernon. His eyes were as black as the darkest night and filled with hate, disgust, and something else Harry didn’t recognize. It was some deeper feeling that Harry didn’t understand as he sat staring into the man’s eyes.

~*~*~*~

“Boy!” Not again.

“Boy, where are you? Where’s my keys?” Silence.

“You will answer me!” Wanna bet?

“Boy! You wait until I get back, and you’ll be in for it, unless you tell me where my keys are!”

The small raven-haired child looked down into his hand, the shiny aluminum of the car keys reflecting slightly from the lights in the kitchen. His hand snapped shut over the evidence as his head moved up at the sound of foot falls coming from the hard wood floors. Oh, shit.

“Good evening Severus.” The thing that stepped around the counter island in the kitchen had red eyes, slits for nostrils, and skin so pale it was bordering on translucent.

“How did you find me?” the boy asked in a shaky voice, attempting to still his trembling body.

“I do believe the question is how will I find your son?”

Severus’ breathing stopped as a small figure moved from behind the numerous folds of black wispy fabric wearing large round black-rimmed glasses set in front of brightly shining emerald eyes. Harry.

“No” Severus moaned, clenching his hand around a wand where the keys were previously hidden.

The smaller boy morphed into Severus’ attacker, just as Severus’ spell hit him directly in the chest. Angry red slashes through a black cloak began to seep blood, mingling with the murder in his emerald eyes.

“How dare you treat me in this way!” was yelled at Severus, the voice so inhuman it chilled him to the bone. “I only ever wanted to please you,” came a whisper so soft, filled with child-like innocence, and remorse that Severus could almost hear his own heart stop. His breathing hitched as his son raised the sleeve of his robes, to display a pale arm laden with scars and bruises. He’d done this to his own child.

But then the face that was once filled with ruination and despair melted into one of such malice and disgust Severus was unable to comprehend it. The arm attached to that hateful face brought up a slick reddish-tinted wand, speaking as was raised a deadly incantation. Severus cast his own curse, just before the spell could make contact with its intended target; the figure disappeared in a wisp of smoke. The curse continued on through the remaining vapor to the kitchen wall, removing a large chunk of it. Severus felt such severe pain as he had never experienced before as the spell hit him directly in the middle of his chest…

Severus jerked awake, the dream burning painfully in his mind. Sitting up slowly, he brought the light forward from the walls, creating a soft glow. Glancing at the clock, 7:13 am, he sighed, stood and began to get ready for the day to come. After showering, dressing, and brewing a few much needed potions for Poppy in the infirmary, Severus made his way towards the end of the wards surrounding the castle. Apparating to a medium-sized two story house near the end of a dreary-looking street, Severus made his way slowly up the walk.

Welcome home. Although he never considered this particular house his home when he was a child, as an adult Severus could understand the benefits of having a house in the Muggle world. Many of his fellow Death Eaters were notorious for their hatred of Muggles. Severus appeared to them the same way and loath as he was to admit, he had put on an excited and pleased front during the times he had been made to participate in raids within the Muggle community. This was all in the past, however, and now houses in Muggle cities were high commodities for the Potions Master. It provided the retreat he desired from his colleagues in the castle and a most certain seclusion from all followers of the Dark Lord.

But this information did not make the return to the reasonable house that fit into the Muggle landscape and surrounding houses perfectly, any easier. For every year previous to his first at Hogwarts, Severus wished to escape that seemingly normal home. But it was anything but normal. Severus’ mother, Eileen, was a witch and while Tobias didn’t approve of her using magic around the house, Severus had seen enough of it when he was a child to know he was a wizard. In the few years before his Hogwarts letter arrived, Severus had acquired the skill and control that allowed him to levitate objects, turn on and off electrical appliances, open windows and doors, and the like with his magic. His mother was extremely proud at his new found abilities, his father, not nearly as much. Tobias had found his son’s development as a wizard insulting and embarrassing and did everything in his power to prevent Severus from performing any magical feats in his presence. The dissonance that existed between his parents over his being a wizard put Severus at odds and he usually found himself out of doors, tending the herb garden behind the house, climbing trees, or playing in the park with the Muggles that lived nearby.

This was not Severus’ first visit to his house since his father’s death, but neither did that fact reduce the pain of the past for him. Every time he stayed there, the memories bombarded his every thought and they were currently battling for control over the part of his brain which was continually concerned with Harry. These two psyches seemed to be at odds with each other, unwilling to coexist. But was he being unreasonable? How could Severus expect to raise his son in the very house he himself grew up in?

Severus pushed these thoughts aside as he physically pushed in the front door. Moments later, he found himself gazing about the sitting room. Five years had passed since his last visit and nothing seemed out of place. Making his way first to his potions lab and then to the kitchen, proved this to be true. There was a small colony of Doxies that had taken up residence in one of the smaller quarters and luckily Severus had a plentiful store of Doxicide on hand to rid the house of the pests. Although he did so only after collecting some venom as well as a few livers and their wings, which could all be useful in potion making. That room being cleared meant only two bedrooms remained.

Severus’ own bedroom only needed a simple banishing of dust to declare it a livable space again. The other bedroom he had decided would be Harry’s, if he so wishes it to be. With that, Severus set to work, creating a room he would have enjoyed if he were an almost ten year old and hoped it would be adequate.

With the house on Spinner’s End in as good a condition as Severus would ever get it, he made his way to the garage. He had spent the remainder of the morning and beginning of the evening ensuring the house would be livable and first made his way to Surrey with the sun half way through its descent across the western sky.

After debating for several days about how to approach Harry Potter in his home, Severus realized that although he was dead, Friar William of Ockham had made some sense. With that conclusion firmly in place and his wand tucked up his sleeve, Severus parked his black Volvo in the drive at number four.

The walk to the door was a short one, gaining no new insight but rather an extreme nervousness for what Severus would find inside these walls. He had no idea what to expect, but he did have a fair idea about what he wanted to see once the door was opened. So with trepidation and a slightly shaking arm, Severus lifted his damp hand to the knocker.

It took only a minute for the door to be opened to reveal an overly obese man whom Severus recognized immediately as Vernon Dursley. He wasn’t unkind as he asked, “Who are you?” taking one look over Severus.

“My name is Severus Snape and you must be Vernon Dursley.”

Standing up a bit straighter, which inevitably caused his huge bulk to shoot out a foot, Vernon replied with an air of arrogance, “Yes, I am. What is your business here?”

“Your nephew, Harry Potter.” A few seconds later, after Severus had finished his smooth oration, Vernon’s face became quite red and he opened his eyes as wide as possible, searching behind Severus for onlookers.

Finding the area quite empty, he hissed through clenched teeth, barely above a whisper, “There is no Harry Potter that lives here. You must be mistaken.”

Severus was taken aback by the drastic change in countenance of the fat lump and said in his own deadly voice, “Is this not number four, Privet Drive?”

Dursley turned around to look at the brass number screwed onto the front of the door, as if he was unsure as to what the number of the house was in which he resided. But when he turned back around to face Severus, his face was a sickly wine color. Severus was alarmed by the change in the fat man again, as Dursley all but spit at him, “And what are you to us?”

“I am the Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry” Severus responded, the irritation evident in his voice.

“We don’t need your freakishness in our home!” came the frantic reply from Dursley.

Placing his firmest glare on his face, Severus replied in a deadly whisper, “I assure you, you will allow me entrance and the chance to speak to Mr. Potter.”

Without waiting for him to answer, Severus asked, “And where is you nephew at this hour?”

Recognizing the look of panic that took precedence over the twin expressions of disgust and anger that previously occupied his face, Severus waited patiently for a reply, glare still set firmly in place.

It took only a few more seconds for Dursley’s face to turn yet a darker shade of red. With an ungracious humph, he heaved his giant bulk from the doorway, allowing Severus to just skirt around him with one eyebrow raised.

After firmly slamming the door, Vernon turned to Severus, and it was as though he felt he was no match for Severus’ height, for he began to yell. Severus half expecting this simply looked down coolly at the man, eyebrow still raised.

“So what is it that you want? We don’t go parading that boy’s freakishness around the city and won’t have you doing the same! We never wanted a…a…one of your kind here!”

This information startled Severus, why wouldn’t they want to take care of the Boy-Who-Lived? Any magical family would have jumped at the chance…as many did, including Minerva herself, and she is not one for young children. Unless…unless the child is as horrid as I have previously speculated. But, Severus would need to find out the real cause for the man’s animosity.

“And why is that?” Severus asked in his offhanded drawl, a scowl turning the corners of his mouth down.

The sputtering stopped immediately, and all was quiet for a second or two. “Because! What are we to do; raising another child after his parents had gotten themselves blown up!? We were perfectly happy with ourselves before he showed up at our doorstep! And him being a…a…it’s not natural what he is! We tried to rid him of it, but nothing we ever worked.”

At this point, Severus’ hand was itching for his wand; a simple Silencing Spell would be all he needed. But no, he needed to talk to Harry, not this lousy excuse of a relative.

So, he asked once more, the tone of his voice clearly displaying his irritation and the not-so hidden message that this was the last time he would be asking, “Where is your nephew?”

“I-…outside. Playing. With Dudley at the playground, I imagine,” he said, oblivious to the waver in his voice. The constant movement of his head in the form of a nod made Severus sick to his stomach.

“And when is he expected to return?” Severus was really through playing these games.

But this simple question caused a bout of stuttering from the obese man, who was finally able to make words in the form of a sentence, “Well, I suppose by tea time.”

“You suppose?” Severus drawled. “Perhaps, then it would be best for me to wait for his return.” He then made his way smoothly into the sitting room, placing himself on the edge of the couch despite the protests from Dursley.

But after he was seated and placed his right hand inconspicuously on his left wrist, right by the cuff of his shirt, Severus could feel his heart slow. So far, Dursley had not been what he was expecting, but no longer would Severus put up with his idiocy. At the first sign of a lie, Severus would pull out his wand and hex the thing into oblivion. Unfortunately, Severus had yet to meet Petunia Dursley.

And she tried his patience greatly. She left just in time to fetch tea. One more second and Severus was sure she would not have been able to leave under her own power. But he held in his sigh as the fat man was speaking to him again.

“What is it you want with the boy?”

Severus considered this question for a moment and decided honesty would be the best approach. “He is my son and I wish to see him,” he said easily.

The reaction was one Severus was hoping for and he was barely able to stop himself from smirking. But then something came over his face that made Severus scowl; Dursley was smiling, all traces of shock gone from his fatty features.

“Well, then I assure you he will be here and you will see him at his best.” The sickly grin that spread across Dursley’s face made Severus’ stomach clench.

Petunia came back into the sitting room, only to excuse herself after setting down the tea tray. Severus heard her speaking outside the room, sparing a thought as to who it could be. Perhaps she is conversing with Harry. This caused a noticeable jump in Severus’ heart rate as he contemplated the words that were being said, apprehension coursing through his veins with each heart beat. What was she saying? How was Harry reacting? Maybe he wouldn’t even need to see Harry before being rejected. What if Harry simply refused to meet him, come to the sitting room to inquire to the strange man who wished to see him? But he shook his head a small amount to dispel the thoughts that were being collected there. Perhaps she is merely speaking to her son, Severus was reasoning, just as Dursley began pouring the tea, attempting to make light conversation.

“So, what is it you do at that school again, Mr. Snape?” he asked, handing Severus a teacup.

“I teach Potions to the students,” Severus replied, taking a sip.

Dursley actually seemed to be demonstrating a general curiosity as he asked, “What grade levels?”

“All years,” he said, taking yet another sip of tea.

Petunia entered back into the room, poured herself a cup of tea, and took a sip in silence. She finally broke it, asking Severus, with numerous glances towards her husband, “What is it you would like to do with the boy?”

Severus cleared his throat and leveled his gaze at the bony frame of a woman, “If he so wishes, I would like for him to come live with me until he is to attend Hogwarts.”

The utter look of glee, as though Christmas had come early, Severus saw on the woman’s face before she tilted her head down to her lap unsettled him. These people were supposed to be Harry’s family, they were supposed to love and care for him. I can not believe that Lily’s sister is this callous. But then again, he had never met Petunia before, save when they were both children. Severus searched his memory for a time when she came up in conversation, but no memories were to be found, except a general distaste that could be seen from Lily at the mention of her sister in pleasant conversation.

“If you wish to see, I have his-” Severus began, but was interrupted by an enthusiastic wave from both Dursleys, accompanied by numerous assurances of, “That’s not necessary,” “Of course you’re his father,” and “Why would we doubt you?” Severus let the hand that was half way to his pocket drop gracefully back to his lap, bewildered. Why would they not question the boy’s heritage?

Determined not to let the matter drop that easily, Severus continued, “Wouldn’t you like to see-”

Cut off yet again by the Dursley’s excited nodding and renewed exclamations of, “We assure you, that’s not necessary.” “No need, no need,” and “Who else would be the boy’s father?” unsettled Severus even more.

Another two minutes passed with only the sound of tea being sipped silently when Petunia set down her cup, still half full, to “check up on him in the bathroom.”

Severus found this a tad odd. Why would the boy need to be “checked on?” Was he really such a nuisance that he could not be left alone for any matter of time? Severus didn’t know how he would be able to handle that in his son. But the Dursleys seem agreeable enough, he supposed. Although the Dursleys haven’t been exactly pleasant, they weren’t openly hostile to Severus like some Muggles and Squibs could be, and they were certainly Harry’s family, which reestablished the thought that Harry might not even want to leave. However if that is the case, I will of course make no objection. I still am unsure as to how I will even raise the boy much less make up for his Aunt and Uncle’s quirkiness in everyday life.

Severus paused in his considerations with his teacup half way to his mouth, as Harry walked into the sitting room, his hair still damp. Severus was amazed at what effect the mere sight of this one boy could have on him. His hands became damp with moisture again, his heart was beating double time, and his throat clogged up. He looks almost exactly with me. There was no denying that Harry was…is my…my son. Severus had not realized how easily he had thrown the term around over the past few days, thinking of Harry Potter as his son was easily done. But now that he was sitting in front of him, looking decidedly like a perfect mixture of himself and Lily, there was no denying it.

Now to tell Harry that same thing which had taken Severus days to accept and finally act upon. He set his cup down quietly on the saucer in his hand and looked over the boy. He was entirely too small to be almost ten, with glasses that seemed too big for his narrow face, which was extremely pale.

The longer Severus looked at him, the more nervous he seemed. The boy was staring dejectedly at the floor, his hands grasped tightly on his lap, and he was blinking furiously; as though to drive away tears. Severus wanted the black haired boy to look up at him. And somehow, as he continued to stare at the boy, Harry’s head slowly moved up as though compelled by an invisible hand; it took only a few seconds to see into his eyes the depth of hurt and sorrow that existed within this boy.

Severus took a hesitant breath. “Do you know who I am, Harry?”

~*~*~*~

Harry? No one calls me Harry. Not knowing what to say in response, Harry simply sat, now wringing his hands, looking into the eyes of this stranger.

“I am a professor at a school.” Harry let out a shaky breath, not the orphanage man.

“Hogwarts is its name.” The man cleared his throat, removing his intense gaze from Harry. But Harry was confused, what does that mean, what are you doing here, what do you want with me? he asked to the top of the stranger’s head.

Only when the man looked up again, did Harry notice just how much this man looked like himself. His heart now beating faster from excitement instead of fear, Harry asked, sounding braver than he felt, “Am I to go to school there? With you sir?”

The man licked his lips and took another deep breath. “If you so wish, yes.”

Harry’s face lit up in a smile and he glanced around the room at his uncle and aunt who were sitting, unmoving, staring at the peculiar exchange that was occurring between this man and himself. “Is Dudley to go there as well?”

The look of utter horror that graced his aunt’s face unsettled Harry, but she replied in her normal voice, “No, he’ll be attending Smeltings.” Harry could barely contain his excitement.

“Harry, there’s something else I need to inform you of.” The strange man was looking intensely at him again, so he moved his hands under his legs to stop from clapping them, he was so happy. But the gaze he received from the man did the trick better than merely sitting on his hands as it was so forceful at demanding his complete attention, that Harry felt his eyebrows stitch together in confusion as his smile fell.

“You know your parents James and Lily Potter were killed by a dark wizar-”

“NO! No!” Uncle Vernon’s hasty movements to stand startled Harry and apparently this strange Professor as well. “I’ll not have you spouting this freakishness in my home! If you want to take him, take him! We don’t want him here anymore, get rid of him!” He then turned to Aunt Petunia, saying in a low whisper, “Get all his things together, he and Mr. Snape are leaving immediately.”

Harry couldn’t comprehend all that was going on…he was leaving? Why? Where was he going? He turned his confused gaze to the professor who was looking just as shocked as Harry felt.

“Um, sir?” came out barely above a whisper. Harry cleared his throat and tried again, “Sir?”

This time he got the man’s attention, and with a curious look pulling his eyebrows together, the man leaned in towards Harry. “Yes, child?”

“Um, what did you say happened to my parents?” Harry was afraid he would have to repeat himself again as Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were making a lot of noise in their retreat from the sitting room.

But the man’s look of curiosity turned into one of confusion, “They were killed by a dark wizard.”

Harry’s heart started to beat even faster. Was this a joke? Could he be serious? Wizards?

“Um, sir?” The man made a soft grunt in reply, “Are you a wizard too?”

The man nodded, saying, “Yes, Harry, I am.”

Harry took in a deep breath, trying to still his nerves, “And, am…am I a wizard?”

~*~*~*~

Severus’ stomach plummeted to somewhere around his ankles as he stood, and taking in full advantage of his height, said in his most menacing voice, “You have neglected to tell him that his parents were wizards? That he himself is a wizard?!”

The twin looks of horror that greeted his questions were answers enough. “Leave us.” It seemed as though the Dursleys couldn’t get out of the room fast enough, making it even harder for the scene to not be comical in their hastiness. But Severus had no need to suppress a smile or a laugh for the boy sitting in front of him was anything but a funny scene.

He sat back down hesitantly, placing his elbows on his knees to make himself more eye-level with Harry. “Yes, Harry, you are a wizard.”

“Is that how I do all those things without meaning to?” he asked, eyes hopeful.

“Yes, it is.” But Severus was expecting Harry’s expression to change, become excited at the prospect of being able to do magic. But his features merely stiffened in response, his eyes taking on a far-away look.

Severus decided it was time then to take Harry away from this wretched house. It was evident that Harry was not overly happy to be living here and his sad excuse of a family was more than happy to see him away.

But now was the time to see if Harry would want to leave, to come live with Severus away from all he knows. Severus took another steadying breath, “My name is Severus Snape, Harry.”

The boy’s green eyes locked themselves with Severus’ onyx ones as he continued, “I knew your mother when we were both students at Hogwarts.”

Severus could see the questions burning in Harry’s eyes and it only grew more intense as he continued, lacing his fingers together over the ground, “We were great friends during our time there and afterwards we were married.”

The mixture of confusion and hope evident in Harry’s eyes was gripping at Severus’ heart. “Your mother did die that night, as well as James Potter. But I am your father, Harry.”

Severus could hear the shaky intake of breath coming from the small boy who was sitting in one of the overstuffed chairs in the sitting room of number four Privet Drive, but could not anticipate the boy jumping to his feet and throwing his tiny arms around Severus’ neck. Shocked into silence and unable to move, Severus sat there for a few seconds until his arms loosened and made their way around Harry’s small torso. My son.

Severus’ mind was still reeling when he finally released his hold on the small boy who had latched his arms around his neck. Harry also began to back away then, his head down and his eyes focused solely on his feet. Severus reached out a tentative hand and tilted Harry’s head up to look him in the eyes.

“Harry, would you like to come and live with me?” he questioned, emotion making his voice thick.

After the first few seconds, Severus let his hand fall from Harry’s chin, the boy’s eyes going once more to the floor, his face screwed up in deliberation. At least he’s taking this seriously. Although I wonder if I’m daft to even give him the option…how does he consider his life here and how can I assure him that it will be better with me?

But before Severus could form another question to help the boy in making his decision, Harry locked eyes with him once more.

“Yes sir.”