Harry moaned in his sleep, tossing and turning uneasily, his pleasant dream of walking along the seashore holding onto Sev's hand and running into the waves morphing into the night when the masked men had come to their cozy house on Aspen Avenue, which was in the wizarding half of London.

It had been just after dinner, and Harry had been standing at the sink on his little stepstool, helping Severus dry the dishes. Severus could have used magic and dried them in two seconds, but then his son would not have been able to help in the kitchen. Harry enjoyed doing things "like a grown-up" and Severus thought it good to instill responsibility in the child by having him do small chores about the house and help with larger ones.

Severus put the dishes away with a flick of his wand, then helped his son down from the stepstool. "Good job, Harry! Now why don't you go into the den and read quietly for awhile, I need to firecall Uncle Matt and speak to him about a patient."

"Then can I have some ice cream?" Harry whined. He'd been pestering Severus for ice cream since before dinner.

"Well, did you eat your dinner?"

"Yes."

"Even your green beans?" Severus asked, pretending to scowl sternly at Harry, who giggled slightly.

"Ummm . . . .I ate six of them, one for every year old I am," answered his son. For that too was Severus's rule, he had to eat at least some vegetables, even if he didn't like them, at least one for every year he'd been born.

"Good, then I think you can have some ice cream, scamp," Severus reached out and ruffled the child's hair. "I'll get it after I talk with Uncle Matt, so you have time to digest what you've had for dinner."

Harry pouted. "But Dad, I want it now."

"Later. If you eat it now you'll give yourself a stomachache, and then you'll have to take medicine."

Harry covered his mouth with a hand. "No! I hate medicine!" Most of the potions his daddy made tasted awful, even though they made you feel better afterwards. Harry definitely didn't want one of those!

"Then you'd better wait like I said."

"Okay," and he heaved a martyred sigh that made his father chuckle. He turned to go into the den when suddenly a loud alarm began ringing. Harry clamped his hands over his ears and looked back at Severus fearfully. "Daddy? Why's the alarm going off?"

The alarm meant the protective wards about the property had been breached and Harry knew that was bad. Severus had told his son that Death Eaters had marked him long ago for his part in sending Voldemort to hell in the first wizard war. He'd brewed a potion that inhibited the evil sorcerer's magic for a time, allowing the Aurors James Potter, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin to slay him, though James lost his life in the attempt. But Severus, along with the others had been credited with bringing down the most evil wizard in two generations, as the potion had been his own invention. He had never brewed it again and kept the formula safely hidden away where no one but he knew of it.

That in part was why the Death Eaters wanted him, and for revenge as well.

"Harry, listen to me," Severus knelt and put his hands on his son's small shoulders, which were stiff with fear. "Do you remember when I told you the wards are there to warn us if the bad men ever come here?"

"Yes. Are they here?" His eyes grew round with fright.

"Yes," Severus refused to lie to Harry, even though the truth was frightening. "Remember what you're to do if the bad men ever came here?"

"Uh-huh. I'm to go into the special room next to the fireplace and hide."

"Right. And don't come out until I, or Uncle Al, tells you to. No matter what happens, you are to stay in there, Harry. You are not to leave it, not for any reason. Promise me, Harry."

"But what if you're hurt? What if I have to use the bathroom? Am I s'posed to pee on the floor?"

"Don't worry about me, scamp. I can take care of myself. And the room has a potty in it if you need it, and some food and blankets and pillows too. Books and toys as well, you'll be quite comfortable in there until I come and get you, son." Severus reminded him. "Come, let's get you in there. We haven't much time."

The Master Healer quickly ushered his son into the den and pressed the secret sequence of bricks on the mantle that opened what Harry called the hide-and-seek room, because in it no one could find you, even if they played the best game of hide-and-seek ever.

The opening on the side of the fireplace was large enough for an adult to fit through and Severus showed Harry the latch on the other side that would re-open the door when it was safe to leave. "But you're not to touch it unless I or Uncle Al call you. Don't open the door for anyone else!"

"I promise," Harry said solemnly.

Inside the room were all the things Severus had said, plus a bed, a chair and a table and globes along the wall lit with the Lumos spell. "You'll be safe here, Harry, so just stay in here until I come for you."

"When will that be?"

"I don't know. Hopefully you won't be in there for more than an hour."

"It'll take you that long to kick the bad guys' arses, Dad?"

"Uh, maybe not that long," Severus amended, then frowned. "Harry, you know I don't like you using that word."

"Sorry," he apologized quickly, for he knew Sev had no problem washing his mouth out with soap for using bad words.

"I'll be fine, as long as I know you're safe, son." He picked up Harry and hugged him hard. "I love you, Harry. I'll see you later."

Then his father had gone out of the secret room, shutting the door securely behind him.

Harry had remained frozen in the middle of the room, unable to move, worry over what might happen to his father making his stomach hurt terribly. He went over to sit down on the bed, but found he was too nervous to sit still and jumped up again when he heard the alarm cease and the sound of heavy footsteps somewhere beyond the secret room.

"Where the bloody hell is he?" demanded an unfamiliar voice. "I know he's here, I saw him and the kid outside an hour ago."

Harry shivered, the voice sounded mean and Harry pictured the owner of it, a huge man with a beard and cold eyes and a scar on his cheek.

Clomp! Clomp!

The strangers' footsteps echoed through the house and one called out, "Snape, where are you hiding, you gutless coward!"

"There's no escape, we'll find you sooner or later and when we do, it's payback for brewing that bloody damn potion that killed our Lord!"

Harry huddled next to the door, his heart beating wildly. It looked like his daddy was playing hide-and-seek from the bad men too, though Harry didn't understand who their Lord was. Sometimes his dad said Lord God but Harry was pretty sure nobody had killed Jesus lately.

"I did us all a favor, MacNair!" came his daddy's voice, low and silky with anger, the kind of tone he only used when Harry was in very big trouble.

Harry shivered and was glad it wasn't him in big trouble this time. Better run away, bad people, or else my dad's gonna kick your arse and take names! He wasn't sure what that phrase really meant, but his Uncle Matt had used it once to describe a fight he'd won when he was in school. But he thought the arse part very quietly, he didn't want his daddy to hear and summon a bar of soap, sometimes it was like his dad could read minds, he always knew when Harry was planning something mischievous, because he would look at him and say "Don't even think about it, mister!"

Then he heard shouts and screams and thuds, and the sound of glass shattering.

Suddenly, he couldn't bear not knowing what was going on, he had to see if his dad was okay, and so he broke Severus's rule and slid the secret door ajar and pressed his face to the crack, trying to see what was happening.

The coffee table had been knocked over and the crystal candy dish on it had broken into a million little pieces on the floor. Uh oh! Somebody was in big trouble for that! Mum had gotten that from her wedding and Dad had always filled it with treats.

There was a hole burned into the floor as well, Harry gasped as he saw a tall figure in black robes and an iron mask with a scary face point a wand at his father and shout some strange magic words.

A jet of red light flew out of the wand towards his dad, who was backed into a corner, his ebony wand glittering as he fended off attacks from two other masked men as well.

The red light struck and bounced away, coming into contact with Severus's Shield Spell, which repelled the Stunning Hex easily. "That the best you've got, MacNair?" taunted the Potions Master. "You're out of practice. Catch, baby killer!" he made a complex pattern in the air with his wand and several strands of purple light exploded from it and streaked towards the masked wizard.

MacNair tried to duck, but the strands enfolded him and held him fast, entrapping him in a sticky web like a spider traps a fly. Helpless, the Death Eater writhed, unable to break free.

"Don't struggle, MacNair. It'll only become tighter and smother you," Severus told him with a sneer. Then he blocked curses from the other two and sent back some more spells of his own.

The shorter of the two masked men said to his partner, "Maybe we ought've brought Crabbe too, Lucius, he's damn good at combat spells for a bloody Healer."

"Snape wasn't a Healer always, Goyle," spat Lucius. "The bastard used to train with the Aurors once upon a time. Until he didn't have the guts for a real fight and slithered into the shadows and became a physician. How many lives have you saved, Snape?"

"Not nearly enough to balance those you've killed, Lucius!" spat Severus, shooting another spell at his former schoolmate.

"Oh yes, throw that in my face!" laughed the other, blocking the spell in a shower of purple and green sparks lazily. "But what of the one you killed, eh, Severus Snape? What does that say about you, Healer? First, do no harm, isn't that what you physicians preach?" sneered Lucius. "But you shattered that law all to pieces when you killed our Lord, didn't you? How does it feel, Snape, to name yourself murderer?"

"It was a mercy killing, Malfoy. I did the whole world a favor," Severus shot back. "Voldemort was like a rabid dog, he needed to be put down. My way was quick, at least, even you'll admit that."

"Pity your death won't be!" snarled the first masked man. "For we intend you to suffer a long time for your crimes, Master Healer."

"And where is your son, Severus?" inquired the second man sweetly, though the ice beneath the tome made Harry's blood run cold. "Where is little Harry?"

"Safe." Severus replied shortly. "Now shut up and fight, Malfoy. Or are you all talk and no action?"

He sent a barrage of spells at his old enemy then, and for an instant all Harry could see were brilliant flashes of light. He heard the masked men cry out in anger and surprise, then they too responded with their own spells.

To Harry, watching the duel with wide eyes, it felt like the battle went on for hours, though it was actually only twenty minutes since his father had shut him into the room and went to confront the invaders.

Severus knew he had to hold them for fifteen minutes or a little longer, giving Dumbledore and the Order time to get to his house and help him. The alarm on his property was tied back to another in the Headmaster's office, so they would know he was in trouble and come to his aid. Good as he was, Severus knew he could not hold off a concentrated attack of Death Eaters forever, and thus he took precautions.

Just then another masked intruder appeared, wand out. "What's taking so damn long, Malfoy? This was supposed to be simple, kill Snape and take his kid, why isn't it done?"

"Because Snape's not so easy to kill as all that, Dolohov," sneered Severus, though he sounded more confident than he felt. "Want to take a shot?"

"My pleasure, you skiving bastard!"

A blue wave of concussive force exploded from Dolohov's wand, and it shook the entire side of the house.

Harry was knocked flying from the blast, landing some two feet away, hard on his behind.

Blinking back tears, for it had really hurt, he slowly climbed to his feet and raced back to peer through the crack.

His emerald eyes widened in horror as he saw his father lying in a crumpled heap against the wall, his green shirt soaked with blood. He wasn't moving.

The masked men laughed and laughed.

Surely his daddy couldn't be dead!

It was impossible, his daddy couldn't die, then he would have no one, like Oliver in the movies and be forced to live in a terrible orphanage with bug-filled oatmeal and nasty men who smacked you for looking at them wrong.

But the masked men certainly thought his father was dead, they were sneering and laughing like it was the funniest joke ever.

Harry felt his hands clench into fists and his temper flare. He wanted to go out there and beat them up, scream at them to stop laughing at his dad, who was a hero and better than any of them, and who was NOT dead!

He also wanted to throw himself on top of his father and hug him and beg him to get up and fight the bad guys, not just lie there like that, so still and bloody. He had to bite his lip to keep from screaming, "Daddy, get up! Get up, please!"

He was to be quiet, and stay inside until the bad men were gone, he recalled Severus's gentle voice instructing him.

Stay here where it's safe.

Harry shut the door and slid down against it, tears falling down his cheeks. He huddled with his face against his knees and sobbed, unable to keep quiet. "Nooo! Daddy! You're not dead! You're NOT!" he wailed hysterically, slamming his fists on the floor in a frenzy of grief-stricken denial.

Luckily, the room had silencing charms over it, so the Death Eaters never heard the boy's wails.

"Daddy! Don't be dead! Please!"

Harry woke up screaming, shaking with terrible fear, his emerald eyes overflowing with tears. He hugged Inky tightly and sobbed, not recognizing where he was and desperate for one thing and one thing only-his father's strong comforting presence.

"Daddy! Where are you?" he bawled, crying uncontrollably.

Suddenly a large shadow appeared at the door of his room and Harry looked up, hoping it was his father come at last.

Only it was not his father who strode into the room, it was Tobias, who was grouchy from being woken up from his nap by the unwanted brat he'd taken in screeching like he was being murdered.

"What the bloody hell's the matter with you, kid?" he demanded, moving quickly to stand over the child, who was all tangled in the bedclothes, sobbing and shivering, hugging the stuffed panther.

"Daddy! Where's m-my daddy!" Harry hiccupped.

"For Godsake, kid, cut that racket! You know damn good and well he ain't here, he's still in that hospital. Now why the hell are you screaming?"

"I-I had a bad dream," sniffled the child, still gulping back sobs. "The bad men were there and they-they killed my daddy!"

"You're crying like that over a dream?" sneered Tobias, now truly annoyed. "What the hell's wrong with you, boy? What are you, some kind of little baby?"

"No! But I was-was scared!"

"Aww, poor little baby, scared over a stupid dream. You woke me up out of a sound sleep over nothing!" Tobias growled. "Stupid little brat!" He reached out and took Harry by the shoulders, shaking him slightly. "Stop being a crybaby! You're a boy and boys don't cry!"

Harry didn't understand that at all. And Tobias's tone frightened him even more and he began to cry harder. Whenever he'd had a nightmare at home, Sev had always held him and rocked him back to sleep, telling him there was no need to be afraid. Not like his grandpa, who yelled at him and called him names.

Tobias glared at him, sure Harry was just acting up for attention, like every other spoiled brat he'd known. "Knock it off, boy, I mean it," he warned. "Or else I'll give you something to cry about."

Harry sniffled, trying to do as he'd been ordered, but it was as if a floodgate had opened and tears kept pouring from his eyes and he kept on hearing the mocking laughter of the masked evil men in his head, over and over. Dead! Dead! Snape is dead!

"Goddamn it, boy!" roared his grandfather, furious now that the kid was ignoring him, weeping and wailing like a mama's boy or a little girl. "I said stop crying!" The boy's sobs pierced him like shards of glass, he had always hated it when kids cried, it disturbed him profoundly. "I'll teach you to cry over nothing and ignore me!"

Then he yanked off the covers and flipped the sobbing child facedown on the bed and landed six hard smacks to his backside. Then another for good measure. "There! Now you've got something to cry over!"

Which was what his father had always said to him and what he had said to Severus when he had cried over stupid things as a child. "Boys don't cry, got me?"

Harry was so shocked over the pain in his bum that he did indeed stop crying for a moment, gasping and turning over to fix his grandfather with a look of surprise and hurt and betrayal. He whimpered at the sting and one little hand crept out to cover his rear end. "Oww! Why'd you spank me? I didn't do nothin'!"

"You woke me up with your carrying on like a little girl. Boys don't cry over dreams. Or anything. Didn't your father ever tell you that?"

"No sir."

"Figures. Severus raised a little crybaby."

"I'm not a baby!"

"No? Then quit acting like one. Be a man and not a little coward. Only cowards and girls cry. Are you a coward, boy?"

Harry shook his head. He didn't think so.

"Good. Remember this, ‘cause if you wake me up again screaming like a baby over a dream, I'll use my belt and give you something to really cry about. Now get in bed and go to sleep." He picked up the boy and set him down on the bed again, and Harry yelped for his behind was still sore.

Tobias sneered at him and turned away, thinking, Little drama queen, crying over a dream and a few smacks. Kid needs discipline, just like his father. I'll be damned if I'm going to have some pansy for a grandson, who cries like a little girl over everything. Why, my father used to bust my bum with a belt and I never cried, I just took it like a man, he thought, retreating back down the stairs. The look of shock and hurt in the kid's eyes nagged at him though, pricking his conscience until it whispered, You never cried where he could see, Toby. He smothered the voice and the eyes, he had learned long ago that tears were a weakness he couldn't afford and he had taught that lesson to his son and he'd teach it to his grandson as well. No Snape would ever be a coward, not even an adopted one.

Back in the bedroom, Harry rubbed his bottom and wept quietly into Inky's soft plush fur. He wasn't a coward, not really, his daddy always said he was brave when he gave him his yearly vaccinations for dragon pox and pyromantic flu and measles because Harry didn't cry and scream and try to kick or bite Severus the way some of the little kids did.

"Some of them I have to cast a Body Bind spell on so I can give them the shots without hurting them too much," he'd told Harry when it came time for his yearly check-up. "But you're my brave boy, aren't you, Harry?"

"Yes, Daddy. I won't bite you ever," he promised, grimacing slightly as Severus gently turned him about, bared his bottom, and swabbed it.

"It'll only sting for a second, scamp."

Harry shut his eyes tight and waited, leaning over the exam table. He felt a sudden sting in his rear and then it was over. "Ow," he said, though it really didn't hurt much.

"See, that wasn't too bad, was it? One more, Harry. Stay still." Severus swiftly repeated the procedure.

"Ow!" He cried. "That one stung a lot."

"Yes, the dragon pox vaccine is a bit thicker, sorry." Severus rubbed salve over the spot and the stinging went away. "There! All done." He fixed Harry's clothing and gave his son a hug. "Better a little sting on your bottom now than getting very sick later on, son."

"I was brave, wasn't I? I didn't scream or cry or nothin'," Harry declared proudly. "I was brave like Merlin, right?"

"You certainly were."

"Can I have a chocolate frog now, Dad? You said only good kids get chocolate frogs and I was good."

Severus laughed and summoned a chocolate frog from the dish of treats he kept on his office desk. "Here you go, Harry."

Harry grinned up at him. "Can I have a lollipop too? Since I got two shots, I should get two treats."

"Oh really?" Severus smirked. "You are a sly little thing, Mr. Potter. You and your sweet tooth!"

"Can I have it, Daddy? Please? Please?"

"Yes, quit giving me puppy dog eyes, you wretched scamp!"

And then Severus gave him a red lollipop also, which he immediately started sucking on.

Thinking about his father made Harry's tears come even faster, try as he did to stop them. But it was hopeless and in the end he buried his face in the pillow and let them come. He missed his father awfully and he wanted him back, and he didn't care if his grandpa thought him a coward or a little girl either, because he was Sev's brave boy always, his daddy said so and Severus never lied.

But he would be careful not to cry in front of his grandfather from now on, since it made him mad and Harry didn't want any more spankings. Boys don't cry, he could hear Tobias's deep voice saying sternly. But I'm a boy and I do! He thought defiantly. Only I'll do it where you can't see, you mean old grouch! So there!

He wondered sadly if he would ever get along with his grandfather, who seemed determined to think the worst of him. Maybe if he tried really really hard and did everything Tobias wanted, his grandfather would love him, the way his daddy and mummy did. Mummy's in heaven but she still loves me, and daddy still loves me even though he's asleep and hurt. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, looking out of the window.

It was nearly night and the first stars of the evening had just begun to light the sky. Harry gazed at the bright twinkling and recalled Severus telling him that the stars twinkling were a way for the people in heaven to remind those on earth that they loved them. Every time you see a star twinkling, it means somebody up in heaven loves you.

Harry counted two twinkling stars that night and whispered, "Somewhere up there someone loves me, like Mummy and James." He smiled and blew them a kiss. "Love you too."

Then he settled back on the bed with Inky and fell asleep again, only waking up when Tobias shook his shoulder and told him to wash up, it was time for dinner.

After dinner, which was hamburgers and fries, Harry helped Tobias wash the dishes and wipe the table. The older man didn't speak much, but Harry got the feeling he wasn't angry at him anymore and he even let Harry watch cartoons for half-an-hour before telling him it was bedtime.

Harry wasn't tired at all, but he went to bed without arguing, for he knew better. He asked Tobias to read him a story, but the man stared at him and snorted. "If you can read yourself, you don't need me to read to you, now do you?"

"No, but . . ." Harry trailed off, not knowing how to explain why he still enjoyed being read to, especially when his father did different voices and all.

Tobias scowled and picked up a book off of the bookshelf. "Here. Read your own bedtime story, kid, I don't have time to waste with that, a rugby game's on." He made sure the boy was tucked into bed, reminded him about going to sleep by nine, then departed

"Night, Grandpa," he heard a small voice call.

"Night, boy," he replied, then went back downstairs to watch his long awaited rugby game.