Harry had never been so happy to see the familiar soft cream and green trimmed siding of the little town house on Aspen Avenue again. There was no sign that the masked men, whom his daddy called Death Eaters (disgusting name!), had ever been there. Uncle Al had come with Aunt Min, who was known as Professor McGonagall to her students, and several other teachers and Aurors, to set their house to rights. Aurors Black and Lupin, affectionately known as Padfoot and Moony to Harry and Severus, had placed triple strength wards about the property that far eclipsed the old ones Severus had cast. They also were keyed into a silent alarm back at Auror Headquarters, so if one layer were breached the alarm would sound and a team of Aurors would come ready for battle.

Many of the Aurors were chagrined that Severus had been attacked within a stone's throw of one of their roving strike forces and they hadn't known until it was too late. They considered the Master Healer almost like one of their own, since he had completed their primary training program before deciding he wanted to be a Healer instead. Then too, he was also a hero for bringing down one of the most infamous wizards that had ever lived-Tom Marvolo Riddle. So no expense was to be spared this time around when it came to guaranteeing the safety of Severus and Harry.

Severus explained all of this to his small son while he helped Harry unpack, not wanting the child to feel uneasy or afraid now that he was back home again. Once they had put everything away, Severus took Harry into the bathroom and dabbed some special bruise balm on Harry's cheek. "There! That nasty bruise should be all gone by tonight. How does your face feel, Harry?"

"It's okay," his son said, wincing as his father gently probed around his bruised cheek with one finger.

"Humph! There's no sign of a fracture, just a bit of swelling." He ruffled Harry's hair. "Open your mouth for me, please. Let me check your teeth."

"Daddy, I'm fine!" protested Harry.

Severus just looked at him and Harry groaned and did as he had been ordered. The Master Healer deftly felt his son's lower jaw and the inside of his cheek, thankful he'd not cut it when Tobias had smacked him. "No teeth are loose, so that's good. All right, I guess you'll live."

Harry closed his mouth and said quietly, "Will you ever forgive Grandpa, Daddy?"

Severus hesitated a long moment before answering. His anger towards Tobias was still simmering and his first response would have been no. At the same time, though, he wanted his son to learn the importance of forgiveness, which was a lesson he had been taught by his mother, though he'd never quite managed it with Tobias. So he answered, "Right now, Harry, I'm very angry at your grandfather and I don't even want to talk about him. But maybe in a few weeks I can start thinking about forgiving him for what he did to you."

"Oh. Does that mean we can go see him again someday?"

"Maybe. I'm surprised you want to go back there after what happened."

"Grandpa's not so bad once you get to know him, Dad. We have fun together," answered his son. "I can almost beat him in checkers and once I won a game of gin rummy too. And he said he was gonna teach me how to carve Inky out of wood, only we left before he could do it."

"Your grandfather was going to teach you how to whittle?" Severus repeated, astonished.

"Yup. He promised. So we gotta go back there someday, Daddy. ‘Cause I want to make Inky and put him on a cord to wear. It's good luck, you know."

"Actually, I didn't." Severus chuckled. "We'll see, scamp. Right now how about you and I go and eat something for lunch?"

"Okay. Can I have peanut butter and marshmallow fluff?" Harry wheedled. He held up his arms and Severus picked him up.

"Yes, if you also eat carrot sticks or apples along with it," Severus bargained, knowing full well Harry had probably not been made to eat any kind of healthy snacks living with Tobias, who loved junk food.

"Aww, Dad!" Harry whined. "Do I have to? Grandpa never made me eat vegetables at lunch."

"I'm not your grandfather and we're home now, so that means you follow my rules," Severus said, giving his son a stern look. "What's the rule about snacks, Harry?"

The little boy rolled his eyes and recited, "I have to eat one healthy snack for lunch before I can have a sweet for dessert, and not more than two sweets a day."

"And what happens if you break that rule?"

"Then I don't get any sweets the next day. But why, Dad?"

"Because too much sugar makes a certain little scamp way too hyper." Severus replied. "So, will you have apples or carrots with your sandwich, Harry?"

Harry considered. "Apples. What can I have to drink?"

"Milk, no soda, otherwise you'll be bouncing off the wall," answered his father.

His son scowled. "Why is it that grown-ups can eat whatever they want?"

"Because we've earned the privilege," Severus smirked. Then he shifted his son on his hip. "You're almost too big for me to carry this way."

"Nuh-uh." Harry disagreed. "You said I'm small for my age, Daddy."

"Not if you keep eating sweets like you did at your grandpa's," teased Severus, giving the boy a light pat on the rear.

"I'm not fat!" Harry cried indignantly.

"No, but you might be if you keep eating all that sugar."

They went into the kitchen, which was spotless, and Severus made Harry his sandwich and cut up an apple into slices. He also made himself a sandwich of ham and cheese and ate a banana. He suspected Minerva had restocked the fruit and vegetables for him, because Albus was as bad as Harry when it came to sweets. He probably had a kitchen full of assorted chocolates and lemon drops and considered it healthy. Then again, Severus supposed that once you passed a century, you were entitled to whatever you damn well pleased.

Once they had finished their lunch, Severus suggested Harry take a nap while he read over some patient files.

"But I wanna go flying, Dad. I haven't been flying in forever!"

"Three months is not forever," his father chuckled.

"Well, it's like forever to me," Harry stated grumpily.

"Nap first, mister, you're getting cranky."

"Am not!" Harry made a face at him.

"No? Then what do you call that?" Severus made one right back at him. "Does that look happy to you?"

"Yeah. If you're a monster," the six-year-old giggled. Then he screwed up his face and growled. "Rrr-ow-err!"

"That couldn't frighten a baby mouse," Severus snorted. Then he roared loudly, making his son jump in pretend fear. "Now that's scary!"

"Ahhh! It's the big bad, mean and nasty, humongous, horrible Harry eater!" Harry jumped off the chair and pretended to hide under the table.

"Who eats naughty little boys named Harry for supper," said Severus in a deep and menacing tone, stalking the little boy around the kitchen. He cast a see-through glamour over himself to make himself appear to have shadowy claws and a large mouth full of teeth, horns, and a tail and bat wings. If you looked hard enough you could see the man beneath the seeming, he'd made the glamour that way so Harry wouldn't get too frightened the first time they'd played this game, back when Harry was two.

"Not me! Can't catch me!" Harry taunted. He crawled under the chairs and raced out the other side, escaping from the kitchen just as the horrible Harry eater snatched the back of his shirt with one clawed paw.

"Run, run, as fast as you can, but there's no escape from me!" snarled Sev. "And when I catch you, wretched child, down my throat you'll be, along with all the other Harry's!"

Harry shrieked, half in fear and half in glee and darted behind the sofa and the recliner. He remained very still as the humongous horrible Harry eater sniffed the air loudly and purred in the back of his throat, muttering about all the ways that he was going to cook Harry when he caught him. "Boil him, mash him, baked in a pie, stewed with tarragon, or fricasseed with a dragon's eye. Yum!"

"Ugh, gross!" Harry muttered from behind the sofa.

"Ah ha! Methinks I smell a child. Mmm . . .young, tender, juicy. Perfect for steaks and cutlets. Dipped in flour and fried in butter, is the tastiest treat ever!" Severus sniffed, then pretended to move about the room, looking for Harry. He slipped over to the sofa on cat's feet, then leaned over and tickled the back of his son's neck.

"Ahhh!"

"Got you!" the monster yelled triumphantly, scooping the little boy up into his arms.

Harry pretended to struggle, crying, "Oh, please Mr. Monster, don't eat me! I taste awful."

"Oh really? But you smell wonderful! Like a nice Sunday roast fresh out of the oven with gravy and roasted potatoes."

"But I don't taste good, honest!"

"Oh? And why is that?"

"Because I'm one of the good Harrys."

"You, good? Don't make me laugh. Why I'll bet you're the naughtiest child ever!"

"Am not! Taste me and see."

"All right. Let me nibble on your arm."

Harry giggled uncontrollably as Severus pretended to eat him, squirming all over his father's lap.

"Ugh! Yuck! Disgusting!" spat the monster. "You taste of sunshine and sweetness and light. Who wants a child that tastes like that? You're too good to eat and so . . ."

"You'll let me go?"

"Nope. I'll put you on the shelf and wait until you get ripe," snickered the monster, then he set Harry on the couch next to him and canceled the glamour. "And now, you clever imp, it's time for a nap."

"But Daddy, I'm not sleepy," Harry began, hiding a yawn.

"C'mere, you." Severus ordered, pulling the boy over to lie with his head in the Master Healer's lap. Then he began to run his fingers through Harry's hair over and over while singing a lullaby very softly. It was how he used to put the two-year-old to sleep long ago and it worked just as well now as it had then.

Before long, Harry had worked his way completely onto Severus's lap and curled up against him like a puppy, reveling in his father's strong arms and the soothing thump of his heart in his ears. He had missed being held this way so much! He nestled his head in the crook of Severus's shoulder and within moments was fast asleep.

Severus smiled tenderly down at the messy black head and kissed his son. "Love you forever, my Harry." Then he shifted the boy in his arms slightly and lay down as well. He was tired too, his body was still not up to par yet, and soon both father and son were fast asleep and dreaming pleasantly. It was good to be home at last.

Later on, refreshed from his nap, Severus did take Harry flying as he had promised. Harry had his own smaller broom which Severus had cast dozens of safety charms upon, but which he was not allowed to fly on his own without adult supervision. Harry had learned the hard way never to break that rule. The one time he had, Severus had taken his broom away for two weeks, grounded him, and spanked him too. He had been five then, and had gone flying with some other seven and eight year old's from the neighborhood while Severus was brewing a potion for work, and his father had been so furious when he discovered what Harry had done that once he'd caught up with his son, he'd spanked him right then and there, in front of the eight and seven year old's, much to Harry's mortification.

He had never forgotten it.

But he hoped the other kids had.

And he never disobeyed Severus's flying rule again.

They flew for an hour or so before Harry grew tired and Severus said he had to go over some charts, a few of his patients were pregnant and their due dates were coming up within the week. So he retreated to the peace and quiet of his office while Harry went into the playroom and played with his toy dragon figures and the haunted house playset Uncle Al had bought him last year, complete with real doors that opened and shut, spooky sounds and students and monsters.

He played contentedly for three hours until Severus called him to wash up for supper, which was roasted chicken and rice pilaf and corn tonight, one of their favorite dinners. For dessert there was chocolate pudding with whipped cream and oatmeal bars-you put an oatmeal bar on a plate and topped it with the pudding and whipped cream, it tasted delicious and was both sweet and somewhat nutritious too.

Severus allowed Harry to have two helpings of it to celebrate his homecoming, then put the rest away for tomorrow.

Later he regretted it when Harry was too restless and hyper to go to bed, and he had to endure an endless litany of "I want another story, Dad," or "I need a drink of water," or "I have to go potty," or "I'm not tired any more, why can't I stay up like you?"

At last an exasperated Severus told his son that if he couldn't go to bed, he should just stand in the corner until he was good and tired. The six-year-old pouted and sulked, "Fine, I will, anything's better than this dumb old bed! So there!"

"Mind that mouth, young man!" Severus pointed to the corner. "Nose to the wall and don't come out till I tell you." He set a small timer for fifteen minutes and settled down on the bed to wait.

At first, his son acted like he had St. Vitus's Dance, squirming, wriggling, and scratching his ankle with his left foot. Harry had always hated time out, because he disliked being still and staring at nothing but a blank wall, it was so boring! Severus scolded him twice for moving, but Harry was so wired he couldn't stay still until Sev got up and put his hands on the boy's shoulders.

"Now, freeze, mister!"

Harry obeyed, sticking his lower lip out. "I hate bedtime!"

"So do I, when you behave like this, Harry James Severus," said the Master Healer exasperatedly. "I knew I shouldn't have let you have seconds of dessert. That's the reason you can't fall asleep now."

"Is not. I'm just not tired," grumbled his son. "You don't have to stand here, Daddy. You can go back and sit down."

"No, not yet. Not till you prove to me you can stand still without twitching an eyelash."

Harry pouted but had no choice but to stand there, unmoving. It was so boring that he actually started yawning and his eyelids began to droop. When he saw Harry's head begin to nod, Severus scooped the boy up and put him in bed. The child fell asleep instantly and Severus left the light on just in case, tucked him in, and went back to going over files.

That's the last time I ever fall into a coma, Severus thought with a sigh. I've got paperwork coming out of my ears! Oh, the joys of being a certified Master Healer in the modern era! He quickly scribbled his signature on another surgical prep form and moved on to the next patient's chart.