In the week that followed, Harry's life improved tenfold, thanks to the new order of things imposed by Severus. He was allowed to sleep in until nine every morning, since now Petunia was making breakfast. He also was allowed to eat at the table, while Dudley and Vernon were forced to stand behind his chair and wait on him like servants, eating last out of all of them, and then only scraps. She did not dare protest much, for Snape was in no mood to hear any kind of pleas for clemency for either male of the Dursley household. Petunia herself had gotten the rough edge of the Potion Master's tongue for her treatment of Harry as well, until she had taken Severus off to the side and said, "I know you probably won't believe me, but much of how I treated Harry was dictated by my husband. Vernon never agreed to take in Lily's child, I had to spend many long hours pleading with him to agree to keep Harry here and not send him to some orphanage."

Severus's mouth twisted. "Perhaps he might have been better off there."

"No. That old wizard, Albus Dumbledore, he insisted I raise Harry, he said it had to do with some kind of blood magic, I don't understand what he meant, but he made me promise I would take in my nephew no matter what. Do whatever you have to, but make sure the child stays here, he told me. He is your blood and as such you have an obligation to your sister. She would raise your son if you were gone, Petunia." The woman's eyes were far away as she relived the one and only meeting she had ever had with Albus Dumbledore, before he had given her the infant Harry to raise. "What could I do, Sev? I owed it to Lily . . .so I persuaded Vernon to take him in, but he always resented me for it . . .and he hated my nephew. Abomination, he called him, and insisted I behave towards him as I would a hired hand."

"Why didn't you refuse, Petunia? You never had any trouble telling me or Lily what to do when we were children," Severus accused. "You telling me you couldn't stand up to that walrus, Petunia Evans?"

Petunia colored and her blue eyes flashed angrily. "That's easy for you to say, Snape! You have magic and you're of a size with him. He outweighs me and is much stronger besides. And he . . .he doesn't like women who talk back to him. I learned that the first week we were married, when he came home and tracked mud all over my floor and I yelled at him to wipe his feet. He knocked me into a wall. He likes his women to be quiet and . . .and submissive . . .I can't even get a job because he thinks a woman's place is at home and he has all the money. I only get enough for marketing and clothing. Dudley is allowed to have whatever he wants, of course, and Harry . . .he gets what's left."

"How long has he been abusing you, Petunia?" Severus's voice was sharp with anger. Yet another thing he owed the big pudding. "How often does he hit you?"

"He hasn't hit me for . . .for quite some time. His business has been going well, he just got a promotion and a raise. I'm careful to make him happy, Severus. He won't hurt me if he's happy, he's not a drunken bum like your father."

"You don't have to be an alcoholic to hit a woman, Tuney," he said quietly. "Some men are predisposed towards such things, it comes naturally to them. And one time ought to have been enough to make you leave. Why didn't you?"

"Where would I have gone, with a newborn baby? Not that he'd ever have permitted me to take his precious son away from him. His heir. Oh no! He told me right after Dudley was born that if I ever told my sister anything that went on in our house, he would see to it that I was put away in an asylum for life. And he could do it too, he had the connections and the money, Severus. He still does, God help me."

"Not any longer. What happened to the money Dumbledore sent you every month for Harry?"

"Vernon took it. I tried to get the account in my name, but he wouldn't have it. Then he told me how I was to treat my nephew. My son came first, and the freak second. Once, he caught me holding Harry a little and Dudley had just woken up and was crying a bit . . .he screamed at me to put the damn brat down and get his son before he dashed the bugger's head into a wall. I put Harry down and picked up Dudley, afraid he would lose it and do what he said. His temper is . . .unpredictable. But at least he never hits me in front of anyone or where it can be seen."

"How very sporting of him!" sneered Severus. "Don't make excuses for him, Petunia. He's a sodding brute and he deserves every bit of misery I can dish out to him. What else did he do to Harry? Tell me."

Petunia hesitated. "Severus . . .are you sure you want to know? It's not . . . pleasant. I couldn't do much to stop him . . .Vernon believes it's a man's place to discipline the children, so not even Dudley minds me much . . .I did try and teach Harry though . . .when Vernon wasn't around." Her face was chalk white and she stared up at Severus pleadingly.

"Tell me, Petunia. I need to know and I won't faint or be shocked at whatever you say. Do you forget what I came from?"

Petunia shook her head. "No, Sev. Do you forget who used to bring you ice and Bacitracin for your cuts and bruises?"

Snape eyed her and then his mouth twitched into a half-smile. "I remember. If not for you and Lily, I'd have been an outcast. I never thought you would turn out to live my mother's life, in a way."

Petunia sighed sadly. "I got what I wanted, Sev. I didn't marry him for love, I married him for his money and prestige, like a typical socialite. The only good thing I got out of this marriage is my son, and even that he's tainted. Why do you think Dudley is the way he is?"

"It's not too late for you to change that. He's your child, you're his mother, Tuney. Start acting like it. This week while I'm here, take your life back, woman."

"And what happens when you're gone?" she demanded. "Things will go back to what they were before?"

"No. I will make sure of that. Now, tell me what that beast did to my son, Petunia. Or must I use magic to compel you?" Severus demanded. He wouldn't have ever forced her to reveal herself with magic, but he felt she needed a bit of encouragement. Sometimes a little healthy fear was a good thing.

He listened while Petunia spoke of the neglect, the nights and days locked in a tiny cupboard under the stairs, the endless chores, the whippings, the starvation, the favoritism shown Vernon's son. He felt as if he were hearing a recitation of his own childhood, except there had been no other sibling for Tobias to favor, and no cupboard to shove him in at Spinner's End. But the rest . . .the rest was chapter and verse his own nightmare childhood. Except his mother had been there to ease the pain a little and tell him she loved him. It had helped, knowing that someone else cared. Had Harry ever had that?

"Were you ever kind to him, Petunia? Even a little?" he demanded sharply.

"When I could, I tried to make up for Vernon and Dudley, who took his cue from his father. It was little enough, I suppose, but I think he understood why I . . .sometimes acted cruel to him." She did not bother to mention that once Harry, age five, had come upon her weeping into a dishcloth, overwhelmed by the dreary existence that was her life, and had patted her shoulder and said, "Don't cry, Aunt Petunia. It's okay." Then he had crawled into her lap and hugged her, the little boy she had belittled and snapped at, shocking her to the core with his forgiveness and capacity to love. "Harry has . . .a great capacity for love, Severus. If given the chance, he will show you it."

"He gets that from his mother."

Petunia arched an eyebrow. "I seem to remember his father loved a certain red-headed girl for years and years before he finally got up the courage to ask her to marry him. That is no small thing, Severus. Lily always said you were constant as the north star." She eyed the tall man shrewdly. "I would say that's why you never married."

Snape did not bother to confirm her guess, she knew before she spoke that her words were dead on target. Lily had been his one and only. He had never really gotten over her death and had always wished she could have known the truth before she died. At least she had left behind a son-their son-to serve as her legacy. A son that he had not treated very well either, he admitted with a wince of shame. But he would deal with that issue another time.

Now he had to concern himself with the Dursleys richly deserved comeuppance. He intended to use this as an object lesson, both for them and for Harry, so his son could learn the value of wizard justice, which was usually pretty even-handed and fair.

So, starting the next morning, a new list of chores and rules was posted on the corkboard next to the phone. On it were three names-Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley. Next to them was a grid with the days of the week in red marker and inside the little boxes were chores, chores that they were expected to complete in a thorough timely fashion, without complaint and dawdling.

Severus had divided up the chores with regard for each one's strength and mental acumen, meaning that Vernon and Dudley got most of the heavy outside chores, such as weeding and mowing the lawn, and Petunia the light housework and cooking, but he made sure Dudley was to pick up his own room and help clear the table and do the laundry as well.

"What about Harry? What's he gonna be doing?" whined Dudley upon seeing the chart.

"Harry will be working as well. On his summer school assignments," Severus replied. "The only thing you need to be concerned about, young man, is doing the chores listed there." Severus indicated the list with a finger.

"But I don't know how!" Dudley whimpered, clutching his bottom when Severus glared at him.

"Merlin grant me patience," muttered the Potions Master under his breath. "Then it's about time you learned, boy!" Snape growled. "Now, you are going to wash the dishes. Come over here. This once I will show you, afterwards you are expected to remember and if you don't you will do it over until I am satisfied. Am I understood?"

Dudley nodded.

"Speak up!"

"Yes."

"That's yes sir to you, or Uncle Severus, since we are related by marriage," Snape said with a faint sneer. "Though sir will suffice."

"Yes sir," his nephew repeated sullenly, giving Snape a look that said it would be a cold day in hell before Dudley called him uncle.

Which suited Severus just fine, since he'd rather not be related to Dudley at all. Then he eyed the heavy boy again, noticing the way the boy was putting his hands over his backside. "Why are you doing that, Dursley?"

"What, sir?"

"Covering your bottom. You've no need to do that . . .yet."

Dudley shivered. "Please, sir! I don't want another tail! Please!"

"What are you babbling about?"

Harry had come up midway through Severus's lecture and answered, "He's afraid you'll give him a pig's tail like Hagrid did before I came to Hogwarts."

Severus hid a grin. Though Hagrid was not supposed to do magic, occasionally the former wizard did come up with the most creative mishaps, accidentally of course. He ran his eye over Harry's cousin, who was quivering from head to foot rather like a tub of Jell-O. Pathetic! Severus thought, unable to restrain the sneer of disgust creeping over his face, try as he might to maintain an impassive demeanor. He's dealt more than his share of hurt to Harry all these years, but when the time comes to pay for his misdeeds, he reveals his true colors. He's a coward like his bloody father.

"Appropriate as that is, I will not resort to such measures at this time," Severus said silkily. "But if you continue lingering here instead of going to the sink to begin washing the dishes, boy, I may give you a smack with a wooden spoon to hurry you up." The Potions Master threatened, summoning a wooden spoon into his hand. It was pure bluff, Snape had never lifted a hand to any child, no matter how much they drove him to distraction, but he painted one of his father's forbidding scowls over his face and this served to make the boys believe he meant what he said.

Dudley squealed like a pig and trundled over to the sink as fast as he could.

Harry had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. He felt a sudden rush of gratitude towards the tall professor. The new ordering of things was sweet revenge indeed!

Snape stalked over to the sink to instruct Dudley on how to wash dishes, leaving the spoon in plain view on the counter, as a reminder.

Once he was satisfied the boy knew what to do, the professor left him alone and turned to his son. "Go and get your trunk from wherever you've been keeping it. Now is a good time to start on your summer assignments."

"But . . .but, sir . . ." Harry protested.

"But nothing, mister. Go and get your trunk, no arguments." And he gave Harry a sharp scowl. "The more you argue, the more feet I add on to your potions assignment."

At that, Harry went into the basement, muttering under his breath about evil Potions Masters who delighted in torturing their students with summer homework. He returned a moment later with his trunk, which Severus unlocked with a wave of his wand. Another flick and all of Harry's textbooks and parchment and quills was assembled neatly on the kitchen table.

"You may begin, Harry," Severus gestured to the workspace he had created.

Harry sat down with a groan, wondering if there was any way he could get out of doing his homework today. He usually just copied Hermione's answers on the train going back to school. But with Snape, the evil git, standing over him, he had no choice but to do all the work himself.

Once he was satisfied that his son was properly occupied with his studies and Dudley was working on the dishes, Severus went to find Vernon, who was supposed to be scrubbing the master bath and the second bath down the hall. The elder Dursley had been much too subdued when he had come downstairs after Severus had rousted him out of bed at five-thirty to water the flowers. Severus knew the big man was probably plotting rebellion and wanted to nip it in the bud quickly.

Sure enough, instead of scrubbing the toilet and the bathtub as ordered, Snape discovered Vernon had decided to have a bit of a lie down. The fat walrus was taking a snooze on his bed, snoring so loud they probably heard him in Scotland.

Snape's eyes narrowed. Slacking already, Dursley? We'll see about that! He had posted the fact that any kind of dereliction of duty would be punished appropriately, but he had not mentioned what that punishment would be, because it depended on the circumstance. In Vernon's case . . .Snape smirked evilly.

Then he conjured a large pail of freezing water and set it to hover above the big slob's head.

He also summoned the spoon from the kitchen counter. Severus might be unwilling to strike a child, but a child-beater like Vernon was fair game and then some. Severus intended to give him a taste of his own medicine. Spoon in hand, he crept to the bed and yanked the covers off the slumbering Vernon.

The man snored on, unaware of the retribution looming over him, his whole body shaking and his buttocks sticking up in the air. Perfect target there, you nasty vicious brute. Snape leaned over and screamed as loud as he could in Vernon's ear, "GET UP, YOU LAZY PATHETIC BASTARD! WHO SAID YOU COULD TAKE A NAP? WAKE UP, DURSLEY, YOU GREAT PUDDLE OF GOAT SHIT! YOU SLEEP WHEN AND IF I SAY SO AND NOT BEFORE!"

Then Snape brought the spoon down hard on Vernon's backside. WHACK!

The combination of the screaming and the sharp sting brought Vernon bolt upright, yelling like a murdered pig. "Ahhh! What the bloody hell?"

At the same time, the pail of water cascaded over him, soaking him thoroughly, as well as the mattress.

Now Vernon really did bellow, for the water was freezing! He coughed and sputtered and at last managed to wipe his eyes, looking up to see whether or not a pipe had burst, only to meet the disapproving furious eyes of the freak that called himself Snape, who was Harry's real father. "How dare you!" sputtered Vernon, glaring at the taller man with undisguised loathing. "You filthy freaky mother f-!" He never finished his sentence for the next thing he knew, his mouth was filled with the awful taste of soap. He hawked and spat, but the soap just returned a moment later.

"Never address me in such a fashion again, Dursley. Or else you'll be eating soap repeatedly. You will show me proper respect otherwise you will regret it."

He let the other man cough and sputter for at least ten minutes before taking the spell off. "Now, I trust you've learned your lesson about swearing, next time it'll be longer and with a few swats added."

To emphasize, he went and smacked Vernon's behind again with his spoon.

"Oowww!"

"That's for your insolence and so is this," he gave the man another smack, his backside was already throbbing, and Vernon yelped, trying to cover that tender part as best he could, but Snape was merciless. "Remove your hand, Dursley, or I'll remove it for you . . .permanently."

Vernon obeyed and Snape gave him another swat. He thought about administering a true thrashing, but decided he'd save that for later.

"Get up and get back to work, you lazy slob. If I find you've been shirking again, a few swats won't be all you're getting. Next time I'll use the belt. Now move!"

Vernon paled and scrambled out of the bed. His bum was already sore from the spoon, no way did he want the belt. And the way Snape was looking at him . . .

"And clean up this mess too! How can you sleep like this? It's worse than a pigsty in here." Severus added spitefully. Then he turned on his heel, cloak billowing, calling over his shoulder, "I'll be back in five minutes, Dursley, and all of this better be shipshape, because if it's not you'll spend the rest of the afternoon making sure it is, after I've tanned your lazy arse for dawdling, and then you can start on the garage. After that you can weed the flower beds."

He left Vernon rubbing his fat backside and gaping, sweeping out of the room and back downstairs.

Harry was still working on his school assignments, Dudley had finished the dishes and was arguing with Petunia over vacuuming the living room. "But Mu-u-m . . .! That's always been your job, Dad said the housework is a woman's job and I'm not a girl and I'm not doing it, so there!" And he stamped his foot on the floor hard enough to cause the china shepherdess to fall off the mantle and shatter in a million pieces on the floor.

Harry looked up for an instant, Dudley having a tantrum was nothing new to him. It usually happened at least twice a day. But Dudley having a tantrum with Snape in charge was a different story.

Before Petunia could open her mouth to rebuke her offspring, Severus had the brat by the ear and was saying in a deadly soft tone, "You will not speak that way to your mother, young man! Now apologize this instant!"

"Yee-oww! Lemme go!" Dudley yowled, sounding like a cat who's tail had been stepped on. He squirmed in Snape's grip, but the professor knew how to grab a child by the ear expertly, and Dudley could not escape. His eyes filled with tears and he bawled, "Mummy, he's hurting me! Let go, you mean nasty bugger!"

"Apologize! Now." Severus ordered, giving the brat's ear a sharp twist.

"Why?"

"Because what you just said is rude and uncalled for and she is your mother, boy, and you will treat her with respect, is that clear?"

"Yes! Yes! I'll be good!"

"Prove it. Tell your mother you're sorry, boy."

Tearfully, Dudley obeyed.

He expected Petunia to come to his defense, but Petunia only eyed her son with a matching look of disapproval and said, "Mind your manners next time, or else I'll take that spoon to you, young man."

"Wh-a-a-t!" brayed Dudley.

"You heard me. Your father never permitted me to discipline you like you deserved before, but now things have changed around here, and Severus is right, you should never talk to me like that, Dudley Alvin Dursley. After all I've done for you, boy, you ought to be thanking me on your hands and knees like they do for the Chinese Emperor! Now get out the vacuum and plug it in. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to operate one."

"One moment, Petunia," Severus interrupted. "I haven't finished with him yet. Since you were complaining and not working, now you can go and sweep the back porch as well. After you spend fifteen minutes contemplating your behavior in the corner, that is."

"Huh? But that's-that's for babies!"

"If you act like a spoiled brat, I'll punish you like one. March!" And Severus shoved the boy towards a corner of the living room.

"Mum! Tell him he can't do this! It's not fair! I don't want to!"

"I didn't ask what you wanted," Severus said implacably, drawing his wand.

The mere sight of it silenced Dudley and sent him racing for the corner, one hand resting protectively over his bottom.

Harry put a hand over his mouth and snickered uncontrollably. And Petunia had shocked him speechless! He wondered if Snape had cast a Personality Altering Charm on her. She had actually stood up to Dudley, acting like a proper parent for once instead of a doting grandmother. Oh yes, he was definitely loving the new way things were done around here.

Upon discovering that Harry only had secondhand clothing, most of it cheap and worn, most of it Dudley's, Severus ordered Dudley and Vernon to change clothes and wear the worst bunch rags they'd ever seen, until Severus told them not to. So Dudley and Vernon were now dressed in their oldest clothes and looked like ragamuffins. Even Petunia was not exempt from this ban, she too was wearing an older housedress and a worn apron.

Severus mended the broken shepherdess with a flick of his wand, then turned to Petunia and said, "In an hour, you should've finished in here and Harry should have finished at least one of his reading assignments. Then I want you to take the car and go shopping with Harry for new clothes. Spend as much as you like."

"But I have no money."

"You do now." Severus held out Vernon's wallet. "Charge whatever you need."

Petunia's eyes sparkled. It had been a long time since she had been on a shopping spree-thirteen years too long. She took the wallet and went back to dusting, humming softly.

Harry, who'd been eavesdropping instead of working, nearly fell off his chair. It looked like Severus was actually being a bit nicer to Petunia and he wondered why. Nostalgia? Because she was a woman?

"I don't hear a quill scratching, do you?" came the Potion Master's silky voice from behind him.

Harry nearly jumped out of his skin. How did Snape do that? He was quieter than a ghost.

"Err . . .I was taking a break. My hand was sore," Harry improvised quickly.

"From writing two paragraphs? Nice try, boy. By the time an hour is up you better have this essay completed, or else you can write another one on why you should finish the work assigned in a timely manner."

"Okay! Okay! What is it with you and homework?" Harry began scribbling again.

"Write clearly, teachers can't read chicken scratch. And mind the attitude, unless you'd like to spend fifteen minutes with your nose to a wall like your cousin."

"No sir." Greasy git! I hate homework! But Harry made an effort to write slower and neater.

Said cousin was squirming in the corner, until Snape spun around and snapped, "Eyes front and be still, young man!"

Dudley froze. Then he whined, "But . . .but sir, I-I need to use the bathroom."

Severus checked his watch. There were still five minutes left. "Go. But once you're done, you put your nose right back here and don't move until I say."

Dudley bolted from the room.

Two minutes later he returned and didn't see Snape around, so he thought he would try and sidle out of the rest of his punishment. He turned to leave and go into the kitchen when a hand grabbed his ear out of nowhere.

"Did I not say you were to go straight back to the corner?" Severus demanded. "That was not a request, boy." He frog-marched the protesting Dudley back to the corner. "Ten more minutes for your disobedience."

"No fair!"

"Another five if you keep whining."

Dudley shut up, though Snape caught a muttered, "I really hate you!" before he released the boy's ear. "Remember, I can see what you do no matter where I am in this house, so you had better not try to move from this spot. And any attempt to get out of your assigned chores will result in most unpleasant consequences." With that, Snape departed, Apparating upstairs to inspect the bathrooms.

An hour later, Harry and Petunia left to go shopping, while Dudley and Vernon worked outside in the yard, though at opposite ends and they were forbidden to talk to each other. By the time they had finished all the chores outside, both were dripping with sweat and breathing heavily.

"I think I'm gonna pass out!" whined Dudley to his black robed tormentor.

"Stop being so dramatic!" sneered the wizard. "Two hours of weeding and trimming never killed anyone. You could use the exercise anyhow, before you drop dead of an early heart attack."

Huffing and puffing, Dudley made his way upstairs to take a shower, though he couldn't make the water come out anything but cold.

Dinner was more of the same, Petunia, Severus, and Harry sat at the table while Dudley and Vernon stood behind and served. Once dinner was over, Severus ordered Vernon to wash and Dudley to clear and made the leftovers vanish in front of the boy's piggy eyes.

"Hey! What about my supper? I'm starving!"

Severus gave him a wolfish stare. "Little brats who whine and are disobedient and shirk their chores don't get supper. The same goes for you as well, Dursley."

"That's-that's inhumane!" sputtered Vernon, soapsuds clinging to his mustache. "What gives you the right to come in here and dictate to me-"

"As it was inhumane to starve my son all these years, Dursley?" Severus growled, looking the obese man right in the eye. "What about that? What gave you the right to treat a child like a bloody servant and worse? What goes around comes around, Dursley, and this is simple justice, no more and no less." Then he reached out and cuffed the other man hard on the ear. "Next time I want an opinion, I'll ask for it."

Rubbing his ear, Vernon turned back to the dishes.

"Mum, make him give me some food!" Dudley whined annoyingly. "I'm wasting away."

"Dudley, be quiet! I have no authority over Mr. Snape, so don't come crying to me. And besides, you could stand to fast a bit, a diet might be just what you need."

Dudley stared at her, temper simmering in his eyes. "I don't need a diet! I need some food! Get me some food, Mummy, now!"

Snape was on him like a shot. "What did I say about disrespecting your mother?"

Dudley howled as Severus's fingers pinched his ear again. "Ouch! Sorry! Sorry, sir!"

"Say it to her, not me." He turned the boy about to face his mother.

Dudley blubbered an apology.

"Now go to bed." Severus ordered.

"B-bed! But it's still light out! It's only seven-thirty!"

"Spoiled brats who throw tantrums get sent to bed early." Severus pointed a finger to the stairs. "March, young man. Or shall I use a spoon to hurry you up?" The wooden spoon appeared with a pop, hovering in the air threateningly in the vicinity of Dudley's backside.

"No! No! I'll be good!" squealed the blond boy, and beat a hasty retreat up the stairs, holding his bum and looking over his shoulder as the spoon followed him.

Harry had to muffle his laughter with a hand. Vernon looked fit to kill, but he said nothing. And Petunia . . .Petunia looked oddly grateful for a moment, before she took out a broom and began sweeping the floor.

Severus turned to Harry. "Bring me your essay to look over and if I find it satisfactory, you may watch TV."

"Yes sir," Harry said, and went to fetch his Charms assignment.

* * * * * *

By the end of the week, the house was still running smoothly, though not without a few more testings of Snape's authority by Dudley and Vernon. Dudley had managed to get himself grounded for two days after pitching a fit about scrubbing the toilets and Vernon had attempted to steal Severus's wand one evening and break it while the wizard was scolding his son for being a rude beast (Snape had it tucked in his pocket) and giving him a lecture on the proper treatment of other people. That attempted rebellion earned the sly man no supper and a thrashing with Severus's belt, though Snape did not beat him as hard as he might have and he did it away from the family, with silencing charms so only he had to endure Vernon's howls.

"Touch my wand again, wife-beater, and I'll break all your fingers," Severus hissed in Vernon's ear afterwards. Vernon bawled and trembled, eyeing Snape as if he were the devil incarnate. "And just so you know, Dursley, I don't need a wand to cast spells." Severus wriggled his fingers threateningly and Vernon gulped and cringed and wished Snape torn to shreds by sharks.

But he did not attempt to test Snape again. Harry had to admit that he didn't feel the slightest bit sorry for his uncle, not after all the years of enduring the man's fist and belt over nothing. He didn't think his aunt felt any sympathy either. The only one who might have felt the slightest bit of empathy was Dudley, if he hadn't been too wrapped up in his own woes to think about someone else's.

Harry's birthday was drawing near and Harry was looking forward to having Ron send Hedwig back, he missed his owl. And Snape must be itching to send a message to Dumbledore as well. Thus far his relationship with the older wizard had been . . .tolerable. Snape did not sneer at him as often and Harry was making an effort to keep his attitude in check, though seeing the Dursleys get what was coming to them went a long way towards revising his thinking about his father. He had at last come to terms with the fact that Snape was his father, even if he couldn't yet bring himself to call the Potions Master anything except Professor and sir.

The night before his birthday, Harry fell asleep on the couch watching some sitcom, and did not wake at all when Severus shook him. Severus decided to let him remain there, covering him with a throw, and making his way upstairs to Harry's bedroom. There were two beds in there now, Severus had transfigured a pillow into another bed for himself, and he quickly undressed and fell asleep.

* * * * * *

The whole family was awakened around two in the morning by a piercing shriek. Severus was on his feet immediately, wand in hand. He opened the door to the bedroom and entered the hallway to find a sleepy Petunia and Dudley standing around, blinking and yawning.

"Who screamed?" Snape inquired, the tip of his wand alight.

"I don't know," answered Petunia, her hair hanging limply over her forehead. "It sounded like it was coming from over near your room."

Dudley eyed Snape's wand fearfully and said nothing, backing away into his mother.

A split second later there was another wailing moan and this time Severus knew exactly where it was coming from. Downstairs on the sofa where he had left his son sleeping. "Harry," he said, and headed downstairs, not wanting to risk Apparition in the dark, it was too dangerous.

He found the thirteen-year-old thrashing and moaning on the couch as if he were being tortured, the throw on the floor, one hand over his face, as if to shut out some ghastly sight. "No . . .no . . .please . . .!"

"Po-Harry, wake up!" Severus ordered, laying a hand on his shoulder and shaking him. "You're having a nightmare, now wake up."

"The hood . . .the hood . . .no, don't look . . ." Harry did not seem to hear him, he was twitching and gasping.

"Harry!" Severus shook him hard and tapped the side of his face with his palm, it was not quite a slap, but it served to make the boy open his eyes.

Emerald eyes stared into obsidian ones, confused and frightened. "Dementors! Where . . .they were here . . ."

"Harry, you were dreaming. There are no Dementors here," Severus said calmly, striving to make his voice soothing. "You had a nightmare, but now you're awake and it's over."

Harry blinked, only now realizing that he had summoned Snape with his cries, and he blushed in acute embarrassment. Oh bloody hell, crying like a little baby over a stupid dream! And of course he's the one who hears me. He probably thinks I'm some kind of coward, a whimpering milksop that goes all to pieces over a dream! Merlin, why me? He fastened his eyes on his T-shirt, not daring to meet the professor's gaze, for fear of the disgust and condemnation he was sure to see in the other's face.

His heart was racing like a runaway horse, thudding loudly in his eardrums. He waited for Severus to leave, but the man remained, still gripping Harry's shoulder lightly. "Breathe, Harry. In and out. Slowly."

Harry obeyed, finding the deep slow breaths calmed his frenzied heart and relaxed him. When he was somewhat calmer, he said quietly, "I'm okay now. You can go back to sleep."

"Have you had these nightmares often?"

"No," Harry lied, not wanting Snape to know the truth-that the Dementor dreams had been occurring with distressing frequency, ever since the night when he had almost died by the Black Lake, trying to protect Sirius from their bony soul-draining clutches.

Severus wasn't sure he believed him, but the boy had seemed to have gotten over his fright, and he needed his sleep. "Very well, if you're sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine. You can go back to sleep. I'm . . .I'm sorry I woke you," Harry mumbled, wishing Severus would stop hovering and go back upstairs.

Severus eyed him, considering. "Perhaps you might sleep better in your own room?"

"What? Oh, no, I'm okay here, really. I wouldn't want to . . .uh, disturb you or anything."

"You've already done that," his father remarked dryly.

His son flushed even more, taking the remark as another criticism, even though Severus did not intend it to be so. "Sorry, sir. I'll stay here, it's better for everyone that way."

"As you wish," Snape removed his hand from the boy's shoulder, only then realizing he'd been holding on to it. "Clear your mind and think of clouds in a blue sky. It will help you fall asleep faster," Severus tossed over his shoulder as he departed to seek his bed again. That was a meditation technique he often used when he couldn't sleep and it almost always served to make his mind settle. He hoped the boy would fall asleep quickly, it had only been a garden variety nightmare, after all.

Harry didn't respond, instead he retrieved the throw from the floor and wrapped it about him. Then he curled up on the end of the couch, shivering slightly, wishing he dared close his eyes and praying for the coming of dawn, for the nightmares did not come when he slept during the day, only at night, in the darkness. He could still see the Dementor's bony hands, reaching to lift its hood, and reveal to him the unspeakable face of the monster beneath the dark cowl, which no one had ever seen unless they were dead.

Another chill skittered down the thirteen-year-old's spine and he trembled, his hands clenched on the throw, trying to block out the echo of his mother's voice, pleading with Voldemort for the life of her son.

* * * * * *

Hedwig returned the next morning, bright and early, and was let into the house by Severus, who heard the owl hooting softly outside the window. In the owl's talons were two large brown parcels, which she set down on the desk and then picked up again as soon as she saw the room's occupant was not her wizard.

"He's downstairs," the Potions Master informed the snowy owl, upon meeting the bird's puzzled yellow orbs.

Hedwig hooted a thank-you and took wing again, bringing the parcels downstairs to Harry.

Harry was awakened by a sharp nibble on his ear and a soft chirupping noise. He opened his eyes to find Hedwig standing on him. "Hedwig! You're finally back." He reached up to stroke the owl behind the ears, she loved that. Her downy feathers were softer than silk, and he stroked her for a few minutes, delighting in her return and the feel of her beautiful feathers on his skin.

Then she drew away and perched upon the sofa back, allowing him to sit up and open the presents he'd received from Ron, Hermione, Mrs. Weasley, and there was even a brief letter from Sirius.

Harry smiled, delighted to hear from his godfather, and not caring if Sirius sent him anything, just knowing he was safe and unharmed was a wonderful present. Then he swallowed hard and wondered what Sirius would say if he ever knew that Harry Potter wasn't really James's son, but Snape's.

He'd probably drop dead, considering how he never really liked my . . .my father, Harry thought sadly. I wonder if he'd even want to be my godfather once he knew the truth? He set the letter aside, and undid the paper and string on the other parcels.

Inside one was a large birthday cake that had chocolate frosting and HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARRY on it in gold letters. The card accompanying it read: Baked with love just for you, dear! Mrs. Weasley.

There was a small package from Hermione, it contained a Sneak-o-scope, the latest portable Dark Detector. Harry was thrilled and promised he'd write them both as soon as he was done opening his presents. Hope you like this, Harry. I wasn't sure if you had one. It can detect dark auras in a ten kilometer radius. Thought it might be useful. Have you done all your homework? I have. Have a great birthday! Love, Hermione.

Harry rolled his eyes. Typical of Hermione to ask about homework. "Who does she think she is, my mother?" he asked Hedwig, who was napping. "That's all I need, considering I have the homework obsessed dungeon bat for a father who makes me complete homework for classes I don't even have yet."

Severus had set Harry a study period all that week and made sure he completed every one of his teachers' assignments and readings and then quizzed him on them too! Then he had made Harry go back and re-write those essays he deemed illegible and learn the answers to the questions he had gotten wrong on Snape's little quizzes. Harry felt that he might as well be back at Hogwarts. It really sucked being a professor's son, if this was how he got to spend his summer hols.

But then a small part of his brain reminded him that Snape had shown him how to cast that Healing Charm, and a few other spells besides. So perhaps the dungeon bat wasn't all bad. Perhaps. Maybe he was only half a git.

Just wait till Ron finds out that Snape is really my father. He's going to have a cow, a horse, and a litter of kittens too! Thought Harry, taking out a piece of paper from the desk drawer in the den and beginning to write a letter to Ron.

Severus came downstairs a few minutes afterwards and asked to borrow Hedwig to deliver a letter to Dumbledore. Harry was still writing to Ron and said, "Go ahead, Professor. I don't need her anytime soon."

After the owl had flown off to seek the Headmaster, Severus turned to his son and asked, "How do you normally celebrate your birthday?"

Harry was startled. That had been one question he was not expecting at all. "Ummm . . .I don't know. I don't do anything usually."

"You don't invite friends over, go out to dinner, go to the movies?"

"No. How do you know about movies?"

"Just because I'm a wizard does not mean I live in a vacuum. My father was a Muggle and while I was home with him, I behaved like a Muggle, so I know all about cars, movies, television, running water, and electricity," Severus drawled, half-amused and half-sarcastic.

"Oh." Once again Harry felt like an idiot. He should have known that, after all Snape had shown no surprise whatsoever at using everyday Muggle appliances, and if he'd been Lily and Petunia's neighbor that meant he had grown up in a Muggle neighborhood. "What?" he asked, for his father was eyeing him with an odd sort of expression . . .almost like anger mixed with . . .pity?

"You do nothing special to mark your birthday, Harry?"

Harry shook his head. What did it matter? It had been that way his whole life. "Mrs. Weasley baked me a cake."

"Oh? Then perhaps you would like it if your aunt cooked dinner?" Severus prompted.

"Sure. I guess so." That'd be a first.

Severus frowned, trying to puzzle out the boy's behavior. He acted as if he'd never had a birthday party before. "Tell her what you would like for dinner then. You're excused from your schoolwork today and I will tell Dudley to pick up your room as his gift to you." Then Severus paused, at last saying awkwardly, "I . . .have not had time to get you a proper gift, but perhaps taking you with me when I leave will be sufficient?"

Harry gaped at him. He was to go when Snape left? "You mean I don't have to stay here any more?"

"No. Why would you? As my son you will come and live with me during the holidays. That is the normal way of things, you know."

Yeah, but when is my family ever normal? Harry thought but did not say aloud. Instead he said, "Thank you, sir. I thought maybe you might've changed your mind."

"For what reason? I would not leave a dead dog in the care of your relatives, Harry, much less my own child. You are my son, however much you resent it, and as your father it is my duty to protect you and instruct you and care for you. Where I go, so shall you. We have only to wait until Dumbeldore answers my letter and then we shall leave."

That suited Harry down to the ground. He couldn't wait to pack up and bid number 4 Privet Drive farewell forever. And at least Snape-no, Severus-he corrected himself, was willing to give Harry a roof over his head and regular food and clothing, and not expect Harry to be a slave in return. It was something, anyway. Perhaps someday, Severus might even look upon Harry with affection and not just duty.

"I'm going to send a few letters to my friends, is that okay?"

"Yes. Your owl-Hedwig, is it?-should be returning any minute."

Indeed, Hedwig did return at that moment and landed on Harry's shoulder. He quickly fed her a treat, then sent her out with the letters for Ron and Hermione.

"Get dressed and wash up, then you can have breakfast and afterwards the rest of the day is yours to do as you wish. Happy birthday."

"Thanks, sir," was all Harry managed to say, for he felt his eyes prickle with sudden tears at the quiet salutation for some God-unknown reason. He quickly raced upstairs, for he would rather be whipped than cry in front of the Potions Master. He brushed at his eyes and wondered irritably what the hell was wrong with him. So his father had wished him happy birthday. So what? It was just words, never mind the fact that this was the first time a parent had ever spoken them to him. Get a grip, Harry! You're acting like a girl! As if you cared what Snape, I mean Severus, thinks or does.

And yet, somehow he did care. He cared more than he had ever thought he would.

Ron sent a letter back right after breakfast, catching Harry in the middle of reading his new Quidditch book. It contained a single sheet of parchment with a single line:

WHAT DO YOU MEAN SNAPE IS YOUR FATHER? MERLIN'S BLOODY ARSE!

Harry chuckled and then continued reading. He would pen a reply to his stunned friend later, giving Ron more time to come to grips with the fact that his best friend was now the son of their least favorite teacher.

Dinner that night was roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, salad, and buttered biscuits, cooked by Petunia. Harry graciously allowed Dudley to sit at the table with them, but made Vernon play servant still, and kept the big man running to get him all kinds of things-more ice, a napkin, a second helping of potatoes, all of which he performed with a sullen glower, making Harry smirk. Payback's a bitch, huh, Uncle Vern? Sucks for you. He knew it was petty and mean-spirited, Dumbledore wouldn't have approved, but Severus said nothing, and Harry enjoyed the rest of his birthday immensely, eating a large slice of cake and drinking a glass of milk.

This birthday had actually turned out well, in fact, it was the best one he'd ever had, save for the time Hagrid had come to fetch him to Hogwarts.

* * * * * *

Two days later, Severus received a reply from Albus. He wished to meet with them at an undisclosed location somewhere in the Highlands to discuss certain matters, and so it was that Harry and Severus bid a final farewell to Number Four Privet Drive. Or so they assumed.