The heat was unbearable. And though the beat up old Chevy may not have had air conditioning, it did have large windows that let the wind blow on their faces as they broke speed limits while racing down interstates. It was gloriously cooling in a free-living sort of way, very seventies and cinematic. But, the car had broken down some four miles east of where Harry Potter was currently walking on I88 and the 70 MPH concocted wind had ceased. His hair clung in clumps on the back of his neck and the dirt from the road mingled with his sweat; he looked like a dirty hippie and really, it was rather apt.

The exit ramp was looming closer and the 16-year-old reveled in the brief breezes he was gifted with as cars zoomed past him, completely unaware of who he was and exactly what he meant to the world. Which, if he were honest, he rather enjoyed. Under his feet, the asphalt steamed; he could smell the old tar and the slight tinge of wasted gasoline, and his feet stirred up the brown dirt and sand and pebbles built up by years of travelers, not unlike himself.

Hermione and Ron were both still with the car, Ron passed out in the back seat snoring away and Hermione keeping watch over their possessions. Harry had volunteered to be the poor schmuck to retrieve help. He regretted that now. Starting down the exit ramp, he hastily wiped another bead of sweat from his forehead. He wanted a shower. Badly.

 ‘A gas station,' he thought as an Exxon came into view, ‘perfect.' Another rivet of sweat dripped from his eyebrow; he was positive if a Death Eater popped up in front of him at that moment and offered him a shower in exchange for joining them, he’d be branded with the mark before sunset.

The last steps leading to the gas station were torture as all Harry wanted to do was use the American Muggle change jingling in his pocket to buy himself an ice cold Coke from the vending machine in front of the service station. Then, he'd enter into the air conditioning and call a tow truck. Priorities, you know.

The whole stupid idea had started the previous summer when, in a bid to cheer Harry up, Hermione had taken Harry to the Muggle cinema. The movie, aptly entitled ‘Summer Roads,’ chronicled four friends who, the summer before their last year of high school, took off on a cross-country road trip where they met life lessons, love, luck and some tragedy.

Later on in the summer at The Burrow, they spoke in hushed but excited whispers in the Weasley garden, telling Ron of what they saw and plotting their own bildungsroman centered escape. They drew up maps and pooled savings, forged British licenses and searched for a car. When the next summer came around, they quietly vanished from the UK and popped up again somewhere in West Virginia. The old Chevy Nova was rusted and rickety, but it was theirs and maybe the names and birthdates on their new American ID cards weren’t real, but they claimed ownership of those as well. It was two weeks of awesome anonymity. Denny’s lunches, Cracker Barrel dinners, and breakfasts from corner marts and delis and seven-elevens. They downed Redbulls like it was water and bought cheesy souvenirs from every truck stop they passed.

Then the car broke down.

With the service attendant nowhere to be seen, Harry pressed 5 quarters into the machine, selected the cola and instantly drank down half the bottle as soon as he picked it up, and with no adult to chastise him, he belched loudly and proudly.

He leaned against the outer wall of the station and surveyed his surroundings. Whatever town he was in was old and sad, elderly women sat on rockers on their porches and the men swept dirt from the gutters on the street. A lone postage truck with three of its hubcaps missing sat in front of an even older general store and in its parking lot, a dog licked at a greasy, unhealthy looking stain. Once, the town may have charm, but that disappeared with the youths that managed to get away and never return.

 The rolling of an engine drew Harry’s attention away from the miserable town and a black Camaro pulled in and drove up to one of the pumps. From the driver's seat stepped a tall man with shoulder length black hair pulled back into a ponytail. He wore a fitted black tee, blue jeans held up by a black belt with silver belt buckle, and black boots. His face was hidden behind dark sunglasses.

With arms littered with tattoos and a black band covering most of his left forearm, the man swiped a credit card and began to fill his tank. There was something positively familiar about him that Harry couldn't place. But, it meant nothing to him; he was too hot to honestly care and this guy was as good as any to help. The early July sun beat down upon the young wizard as he pushed himself off the wall and walked toward him.

He did not notice Harry approaching as he leaned back against his car, clicked the nozzle so it would continue to fill without him holding it, and very daringly lit a cigarette. Propping one leg against the car, the man inhaled and sighed contently. The pack of Marlboro Reds was left on the hood of the car next to a green Bic lighter. He exhaled a stream of smoke and took another deep drag.

"Excuse me, sir?" Harry spoke, in his most polite tone of course.

The man exhaled the smoke from his mouth and turned to the voice. As soon as his eyes landed on the sweating teen approaching him, he stood up straight and immediately put his cigarette out on the bottom of his boot. "Potter! What the bloody hell are you doing here?"

Harry froze. No. It couldn't be. "Professor Snape?" Disbelief was an understatement. Where were the billowing black robes? Where did the tattoos and the James Dean mannerisms come from? Bloody hell, what was he doing in America, of all places, and why was he driving a bloody Camaro and smoking Muggle Cigarettes?

"Eloquent as usual, Potter." He slid his sunglasses off and peered at the teen. "Explanation, if you will."

"I...uh..." Well, if there was anyone who could help him and his friends, it was Snape (Though, he knew that they were caught and in serious trouble.), right? "Ron, Hermione, and I broke down up the road. On the interstate. I walked here for help."

"Oh, that perfectly explains why you're in America."

"We were on a road trip, sir. But the car started making this weird croaking noise and we pulled over but I think it's overheated or something because it won't start back up and I just need a phone to call a tow truck and-"

Snape held up his hand to silence him. The gas nozzle clicked off and he replaced the lever and closed his gas tank. "Get in. East or west of here?"

"Sir?"

"I'm aware that though in America, they do still speak English here, do they not?"

"Yes, sir." Harry obliged and opened the passenger side door. He slid into the seat and sighed contently as Snape restarted the car and cold air blew from the vents.

"East or west, Potter?" He snapped, replacing his sunglasses onto his face.

"East, sir."

“And put your damn seatbelt on!”

Harry quickly did as he was told, watching warily as Snape slipped a CD from a visor holder into the radio. He skipped up several songs and hit play and music that came blaring out of the speakers only served to confuse the teen's perceptions of his professor even more. A guitar began, sliding up and down the scales, followed by drums and a bass. Snape beat out the tempo on his steering wheel, barely aware of the child seated next to him as he pulled out of the gas station and back onto the interstate.

It was Snape beginning to sing along that really took Harry for a loop, "She's got a smile that it seems to me reminds me of childhood memories..." His voice, though deep, was actually fairly melodic.

"Sir?!" Harry - though he hated it - was quite used to and comfortable with his old image of his professor: the greasy bat of the dungeons. This was...unnerving. "Sir?" He repeated.

"Shh!" Snape scolded, as a guitar solo began, "Do not desecrate Guns 'N Roses by interrupting. THAT is rule number one!"

Harry's mouth dropped. What was this? "Who are you and what have you done with my potions professor?" Instead of answering, Snape just held up his hand, tapped his four fingers down against his thumb in a signal of a mouth shutting, and continued to sing along. "Oh, whoa, whoa, sweet child o' mine!" Harry wisely stayed quiet through the rest of the song.

As it ended, Snape skipped up two more songs and the blasting guitars made Harry nearly jump through his skin. “AC/DC!” Snape shouted over the music as if that was supposed to explain everything.

They were nearing the break down site and as Snape pulled the car onto the shoulder, Harry could see that Ron was awake and sitting with Hermione on the hood of the car. The young woman had taken off her shirt and was wearing just a white tank top and denim shorts; she was lazily sunning herself while Ron scowled at what looked like the beginnings of sunburn on his arms. Spotting the car approaching, they stood and walked halfway toward the Camaro, only picking up pace when Harry stepped out, 'Hells Bells' still blaring from the speakers.

"Harry! Mate! We were getting worried!" Ron called out as he jogged closer. "Who-" But he stopped speaking as Snape exited the car and pulled off his sunglasses.

"Bloody hell!"

"Beautifully spoken, Mr. Weasley. Now, if you would be so kind as to pop the hood of your car?" The Potions Master breezed past the two teens, oozing impatience and coolness and stood by the hood of the Chevy, waiting.

Seeing that his friends were making no move to do so, Harry jogged over to the car, reached through the window, and popped open the hood.

Snape pulled out his wand and did a quick diagnostic check on the engine. Frowning, he said, "You blew your head gasket; this car is as good as junk now."

"What?" Harry exclaimed, "Can't we fix it?" He felt his heart drop; this was his last shot at normalcy!

"3,000 in American dollars. They'd have to take the whole engine apart to fix it. Are you willing to pay that?"

"No, sir, I guess not." Harry sighed.

"Figured as much." Snapping the hood closed, Snape sauntered over to the passenger side and opened the door. "Collect your stuff and put it in my car." He dictated as he opened up the glove box.

"Why?"

"If you wish to stay with a broken car, that's your prerogative, but I highly doubt Minerva would be pleased with me if I left her golden Gryffindors in the middle of the bloody highway on the hottest damn day of the summer!" Taking his keys, he began to scratch at the inside of the glove box.

Harry paused in grabbing his duffle from the backseat, "What are you doing?"

"Removing the V.I.N. number so we can leave the car here. This way it can't be easily traced back to you; highway patrol would just as well have it towed and junked instead of trying to find the owners."

"You've done this before?" Hermione, finally recovered from the shock of seeing her potions professor, said.

"These highways are littered with cars my friends and I dumped; I'm an expert." With an uncharacteristic grin, Snape shut the glove box and stood up. He tossed Ron his keys. "Open my trunk."

The redhead squeaked and did so, dumping his bag and pillow inside and helping Hermione with hers. After Harry had added his own to the trunk and had cleared the rest of the Chevy, he offered the two the rest of his Coke. Hermione declined, but Ron happily drank the rest.

Grabbing a screwdriver from his own glove box, Snape proceeded to remove the license plates. "As Potter was the one who walked to the gas station, he gets shot gun."

"Sir?"

Snape rolled his eyes at the redhead. "The front seat, Weasley."

Hermione giggled. "Such a wizard, Ron."

Huffing, Ron retorted, "So sorry I'm not up on muggle dialect, ‘Mione. Wasn't exactly raised one, you know."

She shrugged and looked at Snape, "How do you know about this stuff? I never took you as the...well...muggle transportation type."

"There's much you do not know about me, Granger. Get in the car. It's too bloody hot out here and I'm late as it is." Snape said. He handed Hermione the license plates, “To remember your doomed Nova by. Pity, they’re excellent cars.”

She looked at the plates longingly. “Well, it was good while it lasted.”

"Oi, where do you think he's going, mate?" Ron whispered to Harry as they watched Snape sit in the driver's seat. "Think he's going to the caverns we passed to recollect with the bats like some sort of school reunion?"

Harry snickered, thinking of the billboards they passed that advertised caves to tourists. "Maybe he lives in them, sleeps upside down, only comes out to feed."

"I'm not deaf, you imbeciles. Get in the damn car." Their professor snapped. Squeaking again, Ron hurried into the backseat next to Hermione, nearly tripping over the seatbelt as he did so.

"Sorry, Professor." Harry said, taking his own seat and at least having the decency to look abashed.

But Snape just shrugged; they weren't at Hogwarts and no one other than his friends in America knew anything of him unless people recognized him through someone else. He could act himself here: he didn't have to scold anyone for rude comments he so often made himself. And, in truth, the comments about him living in the caverns and speaking with the bats were rather amusing, though he would never admit any of that to the three teens now seated in his precious Camaro. And really, who would believe them?

"I am on my way to visit an old friend, yet seeing as how I now have three students with me...we are now on our way to see an old friend."

"But--"

"But nothing, Ms. Granger. I'm not canceling my plans for you three. I expect you will all be on your BEST behavior. You will use Georgie's phone to contact whomever about finding new means of transport, and hopefully be out of my hair by tomorrow."

The muttered ‘Ew' from Ron in the backseat made Snape inwardly chuckle.

"You mean...you're not going to send us back?" Harry asked.

"You're safe here, as no one, now save me, know that you're in America." Harry's mouth hit the floor when Snape winked at him, "This is the type of rebelliousness I condone, Potter."

Clicking through the CD, Snape chose some song called “Paradise City” by the same band that he had first played.

Reenacting itself from when Harry had gotten into the car at the service station, the potions master beat out the drums on his steering wheel and sang along. His speed picked up as they entered back onto the highway, weaving around cars moving too slow for him. Harry, glancing at the speedometer, blanched when he saw it reaching near 90 miles per hour. "Sir?"

Snape briefly looked at the teen seated next to him. "Relax, Potter, I won't get pulled over by a cop."

"A speeding ticket is the least of our worries," Harry muttered as they once again sped around a slow moving car, cleanly cutting off the other in the lane next to them. A brief glance in the backseat saw Ron clenching the overhanging bar above the window, his knuckles white.

Snape laughed wickedly when he saw the redhead in his rear-view mirror. "The ‘oh-shit' bar, marvelous invention, is it not?"

"Oh shit is right! Slow down!"

But Snape only grinned and sped up, the speedometer hitting closer to 100 with each passing second.

"Professor!" Ron screeched in fright.

Snape looked next to him with an exaggerated groan, "Potter, please explain the rules when this band is on."

Harry angled his body to see his friends, "We do not desecrate Guns ‘N Roses by talking." He shrugged, not fully understanding this new side to their professor, but beginning to find it overly amusing; this wasn‘t the Snape they knew, but almost immediately, he knew that he liked this one better. A lot better. Loads better.

"Five points to Gryffindor for the respect of Gun ‘N Roses."

Harry grinned and began to tap out the beat on his lap. He failed to see the smile on his professor's face when the older man noticed his interest in the song. Hermione, however, did observe the sly grin and wondered just how much of their professor they really didn't know about. He was still sarcastic and somewhat insulting, but it wasn't as...‘Well,' she mused, ‘he isn't being as mean about it. It's almost like it's all in good fun.'

To say she was confused was an understatement, but Hermione wasn't a prefect or top witch of their class for nothing. She was going to figure this out whether Snape liked it or not!

It was near dinnertime when Snape pulled into the driveway of a large white house. It sat on a country road not far from the interstate, its neighbors much farther down the road. He deftly swerved around a pothole and shot into the driveway with a practiced ease. “Wish the old man would fix that, he muttered to himself. And as soon as he pulled the keys from the ignition, the front door was swung open by a muscular man in a white tee-shirt and black leather vest. His arms were even more decorated than Snape's and his grayed hair was cropped short on his head. "Sev! You son of a bitch! ‘Bout God damned time!" The American accent shouted loudly and the man barreled down the steps and took Snape in a crushing bear hug.

"Had a bit of detour, Georgie." He gestured toward the three teens slowly getting out of the car. "I found three of my students stranded on 88, Minerva would have my head on a platter if she found out I left them there, they're in her house."

The other man laughed, "Hah! Minnie would never! Who would she torment if she killed you?"

Snape grinned, "Good point, if these weren't the infamous Golden Trio. Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter," he pointed each teen out respectively, "And this is Georgie Bryce."

Georgie peered at each student and smiled in turn. When his gaze landed on Harry, he grinned. "The fucking savior of the world and the bane of Sevvy's existence, pleasure to meet you! You're my idol!"

He shook Harry's hand enthusiastically. "Huh?" Harry said.

"Anyone who can manage to annoy Sev as much as you do, earns my respect from the get go. Come, come, everyone else is already here! I have the AC on, so you won't sweat your damn balls off," Georgie glanced at Hermione, "Figuratively speaking, of course."

"Young ears," chastised Snape, "can we at least try for decent language?"

"Where’s the fucking fun in that?!" Grinning, Georgie led the four (including a scandalized Snape!) in the house, ushering them into the wide living room where three others were seated.

"Holy shit Sev, when did you have kids!?" cracked a curly haired blonde witch seated in an armchair, she wore a light blue Harley Davidson off the shoulder shirt, a denim mini skirt, and biker boots. She pointed her wand at Snape, "Could've told me I was aunt, and then I could've started spoiling them rotten before this! You know that’s what I do best!"

“We all play to our strengths,” Georgie chuckled.

"Lucy...these are NOT my children," Snape practically spit the word, "They are my students whose car has broken down. I’m simply doing my civic duty in assisting them so I get karma points and don’t come back as a worm in my next life!"

"Aw, Severus, such a friggin' angel. Don't let the sarcasm sway you kids, he's a pussy cat."

Ron could barely imagine Snape as a ‘pussy cat' but the woman was amusing nonetheless. "I'm Ron." He held his hand out to her. Instead of taking it, she stood and gave him a hug.

"'Name's Lucy! And look at you, brightest damn hair I've seen!" The tips of Ron's ears turned pink.

A wizard seated to the left laughed, "Lucy has a thing for redheads."

"Bloody hell!" Snape spewed, "He's 17 Luce, can we not?"

With a roll of her eyes she answered, "I already got a man. I just figured my daughter might want a shot at this good looking piece of meat." She grinned and her eyes caught Harry, "Oh, Merlin! And look at this one! Hey, Bay, your kid would like him!"

The wizard laughed, "She has been on the prowl." Harry blushed deeply.

Jena, a dark haired witch with her lips, nose, eyebrows, and just about every facial appendage pierced, was bouncing on her toes, obviously excited. She grinned at Hermione and winked. The young witch felt herself smile shyly, again wondering of this new side to her professor. These were not the friends she had thought he would be acquainted with. Jena’s tight tank top and even tighter pants just confirmed that.

"All right, so we know Big Red here is Ron," Lucy stated, "But what about this pretty lady?"

"My name is Hermione Granger." The teen spoke softly; she was overwhelmed by the people standing before her and Jena was still giggling and snickering like mad whenever her gaze landed on Hermione.

"LOVE your name! I need another kid, a girl, so I can name her that. Hey Sevvy, you be the Godfather!"

Snape groaned, "Again?"

Lucy laughed and said, "Every time I have another fictional kid I make Sev the Godfather."

Hermione laughed, “Ah, he must adore that.”

"Oh, he loves it!" She turned to Ron, "We got her last name, what's yours, Kid?"

"Weasley." he answered.

"LOVE it!"

Jena chuckled, "Luce, you love everything."

"What can I say," the blonde stated, "I'm a lovable type of gal."

Harry was practically hidden behind Ron, which wasn't that hard, considering how small he was. The woman‘s exuberance was intimidating. "And we seem to have a hidden child behind Big Red!" Lucy exclaimed. Snape looked at Harry, confused, as the teen seemed to want to melt down into the cracks in the floor rather than have any attention on him at all. Harry, for his part, had just learned that introductions were always awkward when it came to the Boy-Who-Lived. He gave a quiet wave, wondering how much caffeine these people had indulged in but stayed behind Ron.

Lucy would have none of that though, reaching around Ron, she grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him from his hiding spot. "Hey, Cutie, what's your name? Don’t let Jena scare you; she’s more afraid of magnets than you should be of her!”

Jena shot her a look but ignored the remark. "Wow, Sev, you got some good looking students. Wish I was 17 again." She mused, eyeing Harry. "Gorgeous green eyes, right Luce?"

"Absolutely! I love them!" She reached forward to swipe Harry's hair from his eyes but caught sight of his scar. "Merlin..."

A bit panicked by the change in attitude (not that he didn't expect it), Harry lurched from her grasp and backed away right into Snape. Blushing, he stilled his panic and shifted to the side, looking up at the witches and ready to take on any comment. Noticing his discomfort, Lucy smiled and used her usual ally in awkward situations: she made a joke at another person's expense. "No wonder Sevvy came in here looking like something crawled up his ass and died! It's Harry Potter!"

"No shit?" Baylor asked. He jumped up and all his 6'5 build rambled to get a sight of Harry's scar. "Oh, this is perfect!"

Jena pounced, pulling him from the safety of his best friend's shadow, "Fantastic! We have a new way to annoy Sev!" Harry's eyes went wide, surely, if she had her way Gryffindor would cease to have any points left!

"All right, ENOUGH!" Snape barked, knowing the over exuberance of his friends daunted even the most stable of people, "I'm hungry, I'm sure the brats are hungry, I KNOW Baylor is hungry, and so can we eat?" Harry looked up at his professor appreciatively.

Lucy smiled at Harry and Jena, "We have plotting to do now, Sev. Go cook with the men."

"No. Harry is not here to entertain you."

Harry gasped, "You just called me Harry!" Both Ron and Hermione were just as shocked; they looked up at their professor, mouths practically on the floor.

"Ain't that your name, Kid?" Georgie asked, looking back and forth between Snape and Harry.

"Well, yeah..."

"So what's he call you then?"

"I refer to him by his last name as I do all my students. Except this is summer; I'm no one's professor right now." Snape mouthed off. "Food. NOW."

The elder witches and wizards took this as meaning the issue was dropped. Severus never became snippy with them so when he did they knew to oblige. "All right, all right, someone needs a nap!" Baylor quipped as he walked into the kitchen and out of the back door.

"You do not mind that they stay, Georgie?" Snape asked, glaring after Baylor - though his eyes held his amusement.

"Not at all! Could use a little excitement around here!" Georgie answered Snape. "We're having a bit of a barbeque." He said to the students. "I'll make sure Sevvy doesn't poison your food."

"How accommodating," Snape growled, rolling his eyes in the same manner he yelled at his students for. This also, did not go unnoticed by Hermione.

Lucy winked at the three students as she sauntered from the room, followed by a giggling and conspiring Jena.

"All right, why don’t you three shower and clean up and meet us outside, Bathrooms down the hall.” Georgie directed them. He turned to Snape, “Come on, you old bat!" He joked, half hugging Snape as he laughed and lead him out. That left the three teens standing in the center of the room, Ron's ears still slightly pink.

"Did he just call Snape a bat?"

"Did Snape actually laugh?"

"Am I the only one who noticed they call him Sevvy?"

Ron gaped at Harry, "Bloody hell, they do!"

"This is like The Twilight Zone via Hogwarts." Hermione quipped and rolled her eyes at the confused looks on the two boys, "Old Muggle show on the telly. Even you didn't know that, Harry?"

"I never really got the chance to watch much television, ‘Mione."

She just shrugged, "I’m rather curious. Let's hurry up and get clean so we can go outside and see what else we can find out about the old bat."

Harry nodded in affirmation and then shot his hand in the air, “Dibs on the shower first!” The wrestling match that took place after that was never mentioned by Ron or Harry again. Neither won, instead, Hermione wrestled them to the ground and then took off down the hall to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her with a victorious shout.

Dinner was steaks, chicken and burgers grilled on the barbeque with corn (also grilled) and salad. The adults drank beer and the kids, soda. They were seated at a picnic table perched on a cement patio, the grill still sizzled with warming food, and the conversation was light. Halfway through the meal, Harry noticed that the pile of beer bottles in front of Snape was growing. He eyed Hermione and grinned. Perfect.

"Professor Snape?" She spoke up, her Gryffindor bravery only rivaled by her young nosiness and edged on by a newfound confidence the summer so far had given her.

Snape raised an eyebrow, "Yes?"

The giggling from the other adults drew his attention from her as they openly mocked him. "Professor Snape!" "Yo Proff!" and "Snapers!" were just some of the taunts being thrown at him. Ron and Harry held in snickers.

Georgie leaned forward, "Call the old bat Sev or Sevvy. I can't bear to hear him called Professor; I just start laughing too hard. It’s friggin’ ridiculous!"

Hermione sputtered, "I...I can't! He's my professor!" The thought of this made her pale; you just never disrespected the institution of learning by referring to a professor by their first name!

"It's either that or Sir." Harry spoke up, shrugging, his mouth still twitching with a hidden grin.

"Oh, hell no!" Lucy yelled, "That is no ‘Sir'! That's Sevvy!" She pointed at Snape and nodded, "Sevvy. Not Sir. Sevvy." This was obviously a stone cold fact to her.

"Excuse me, I hate to interrupt this lovely conversation pertaining to my name, but having my students call me Sevvy is none too appealing, thank you very much." Snape spoke, his annoyance showing.

"Then call him Severus." Baylor said, "At least it's not Sevvy?" He added when Snape glared at him.

Hermione decided quietly to just not address him by ANY name at all for the moment, "My question...if you will?" Her hands in her lap, she tried to convey sheer politeness, respect, and innocence: an obvious ploy to deter Snape from thinking she was going to pry for information and a job well done if Harry had anything to say about it.

"Yes? I apologize for the interruption."

She shrugged, "I was just wondering why it is that at school you stalk around the hallways with your hair down in your robes and never smile, and are a greasy git?" It was spoken in her sweetest voice and she batted her eyes in a way that clearly said, ‘What? Cause trouble? Little old me?’ Fred and George would be proud. And probably very scared.

Ron spurted his drink half way across the table, to the great amusement of Lucy and Baylor who barked out loud laughs. Snape's mouth dropped.

Georgie and Jena were speaking quietly, cheshire grins on their faces. They looked up at Snape. "Gonna answer the young lady?" Jena grinned, her eyebrows raised in mock query.

It was Snape's turn to sputter. He was never caught off guard quite like this before. And the self satisfied smirk on Hermione's face didn't help matters. Oh, what a wounded ego he currently had! Bested by a snotty lion!

It was then that Snape noticed the five beer bottles in front of him and Harry and Ron's smirks as they looked from them to their professor. Oh.

"How positively Slytherin of you, Ms. Granger." He finally managed. Just to be spiteful, Snape reached over and grabbed another beer from the cooler, he twisted off the top and took a long gulp. The self-satisfied smirk didn't leave her face though as she waited patiently for an answer. "You're not getting a response. Give it up." he snapped when Hermione refused to remove her attention.

"Oh, yes she is!" Georgie came to her rescue, "If you really do act like a mean old bat at Hogwarts, she deserves an answer. And gimme another beer!"

Snape begrudgingly handed over another bottle, "That is decidedly not the best solution to this Georgie!"

"Sure it is! You open your mouth, you speak, they listen, we all learn. It’s a fucking win-win, like whiskey!"

That made absolutely no sense to Snape, but he let it slide. "All right, all right! You’re so damn annoying sometimes."

"Then answer the young lady or I’ll give Jena full permission to annoy you uninterrupted."

Snape grunted, "She's top witch in grades and her best friend is Harry Bloody Potter. She can figure it out. She's smart."

"Does this have anything to do with the Order--" But Hermione's hand snapped over Ron's mouth with a loud "Shhh!!"

Snape, again, rolled his eyes. "They know. They are actually part of our confidants in the U.S., the Dark Lord has affected here as well, or did you think he only had eyes for Europe?"

"Why have we never heard of them?" Ron asked, speaking loudly over Lucy and Baylor, who had begun singing.

“I only have eyes….for you! SHA-BOP BOP!”

Snape only shrugged and hushed his friends with a wave of his hand, "Upon the Headmaster's orders you are only to be told what is deemed important enough to be discussed with you."

"Oh, great bloody strategy!" Harry smarted, his temper rising quickly when his brain conjured up a rather unwanted vision of Sirius’ death. "That how Sirius was killed! Because no one saw it fit to tell me anything!"

"Potter--"

"No! I don't want to hear it!" The anger on Harry's face was evident, the boy looked as though he was about to pop. “I’m supposed to be the bloody Chosen One but no one tells me anything!” But as quickly as he was angered, he deflated. “Proffessor, I--”

The other adults sat quietly, shocked at the outburst of the formally perceived ‘quiet one.' Snape sighed in annoyance and cut off what he was sure was going to be a annoying apology. "I admit things weren't done quite so...well...pertaining to your Godfather, but that is no reason to snap at me or at anyone else. Headmaster's orders, Potter, or has your simpleton mind been unable to grasp such an obvious point? ASIDE from the fact that your mutt of a Godfather should have KNOWN to keep his troublesome arse at headquarters! And if you had ever TRIED—ATTEMPTED—to learn Occulemcy, I dare say you have to be the most thickheaded, idiotic--"

"That's enough, Severus!" Georgie stood abruptly. "I'm shocked that you would...I have NEVER...I...This is a side of you I do not like Severus Snape. At ALL."

Instantly, Snape looked thoroughly admonished and he glanced from one friend to another. It was yet another shock to the system for the students, though Harry barely registered it; he was too busy holding back tears at the thought of his Godfather. It became abundantly clear just how much of a trigger Sirius was to him. "Harry..." Snape began, in a kinder tone, suddenly remembering just how young the boy actually was.

"Piss off!" Harry snapped, jumping up the table and knocking his chair back. “You know nothing about me!” He turned and stormed off, disappearing into the wide range of Georgie's property.

"Oh, nice, Sev, real nice!" Jena snapped. “What the hell?” She threw her hands up.

Lucy pushed herself out of her chair, "Jena, let's go find him and allow Georgie to chew the asshole out."

"No, I'll speak with him." Snape said, standing himself.

"Absolutely not! No way! Because you did such a FINE job of it before?!" Jena hissed; it wasn't a wonder to her why Snape never had any kids, “I mean, really!”

"Then let me," Snape said through gritted teeth, "correct it."

Ron and Hermione were both quiet through this exchange, both knowing Harry well enough to understand that if he wanted to talk, he would not have left the table. He didn’t do things normally in the most unsuspecting of occurrences and this was way out of bounds for him. They eyed the adults warily.

"I will." Georgie glared. "And I've said it before Sevvy, that headmaster of yours may be brilliant in terms of magic and studies, but he's a sure fire idiot when it comes to social concepts." Without waiting for an answer, Georgie stalked away brusquely, headed in the direction Harry had gone.

Snape was left sitting at the table, looking like a naughty toddler.

Harry didn't know where he was headed, but anywhere had to be better than staying on the patio and dealing with his irate professor. How stupid was he to think that Snape was in any way different then how he behaved at Hogwarts? Sure, he was different in how he looked and how he acted with his friends but with Harry it was all just the same.

Severus Snape loathed Harry Potter and nothing, short of an absolute miracle, would  ever change that.

And to add to it, the memory of his Godfather's demise that he had repressed for the entirety of sixth year—and subsequently never properly dealt with –was now on the forefront of his mind. A horrible taunting of the instant of death played over and over as if he had only one channel that played only one show and no remote or power button to even think about turning it off.

Moreover, of course, Snape was right—he was always right!—this was Sirius and Harry's fault alone. Sirius had been reckless and Harry irresponsible. It was tough and bitter truth he had to swallow, but he knew it all along. He didn’t really know why he blamed the headmaster at all. Maybe because Sirus was dead and Harry couldn’t bear to shoulder the burden all by himself. It was too much, too painful. He felt as though the guilt would overwhelm him like he was some inexperienced swimmer in the Black Lake, unequipped to deal with the cold and the depths, slowly sinking to the bottom, with no one to save him in sight.

Down a small slope, Harry happened upon a hammock tied between two trees. Bitterly, he lay on it, stretching width wise with his feet planted on the ground. Squeezing his eyes shut, he attempted to quell the tears that threatened to spill over and unconsciously, he moved his foot so he could gently rock back and forth. The motion was somewhat comforting.

This was so wrong! He shouldn't be here! He should be with his best friends, cruising down highways and eating cheap dinners at Denny's. Lying in a hammock at a house belonging to a friend of Snape's, trying not to cry, and once again fighting to suppress bad memories was not on his schedule of things to do that summer. Or ever, for that matter!

Adjusting his body so he was half lying on his side, Harry furiously wiped a few escaped tears.

"Hey."

Snapping up into a sitting position, Harry eyed Georgie as the man took a seat in the grass in front of him.

"Hi," the teen said quietly.

"This is one of my favorite spots out here. I put this hammock up right when I moved in, ‘bout 12 years ago I think."

"It's nice." Harry said quietly, wiping away the last bit of evidence of tears.

Georgie grinned and pulled out a handkerchief, "Here, better than a sleeve."

A small smile in thanks, Harry wiped his eyes. In the corner of the handkerchief was an emblem embroidered in black and orange. "What is that?" he asked.

"Harley Davidson." Georgie grinned, "Motorcycles. Only ones I ride. Took me years to get the perfect one, working crap Muggle jobs and saving money, had some beat up ones for the longest time. Now though, now I got myself a beauty. Severus built his from the ground up. Better with his hands than he is with his mouth, I'd say."

Harry nodded, "Yeah, well, that goes without saying..."

"Listen, Kid, I ain't ever seen Sev act like that before. He's complained, of course, about ‘Harry Bloody Potter,' but he never—I mean never!—ever spoke so ill of you. He's spat about your insane adventures, your ‘saving people' issue, and how you've got more brains than you know what to do with but you don't apply yourself, he's bitched and moaned like a pissed off hormonal  teenager, but he's never spoken like that. I don't know why...I've never seen him so...spiteful before."

"You obviously know a different Snape than I do."

"That so?" Georgie said, "How is he at Hogwarts?"

"A greasy git. Unfair, mean, cruel...he's such an arsehole! I'm sorry, I know that he’s a good friend of yours, but all he does at school is take points from houses other than his own and yell and scream at everyone not in Slytherin. I hate him! He hates me because of my FATHER. Not me, my dad! I never even KNEW my dad! He's a condescending, greasy prat!"

"Oh, no, Harry, tell me how you really feel?"

The tension lifted and Harry laughed softly, "And here I was thinking that this was going to be different: the jeans and the car, and you telling me that he has a motorcycle, and the beer and the hair and not being greasy but actually clean, I mean, what’s up with that?!...But of course I was wrong. I'm always wrong. Not Snape. He’s always right."

"For one thing, Harry, Severus isn’t fond of change, I assure you, but he showers regularly, it’s the potions fumes that do it. Second, well, he told me about your father and his friends. And it does bother me, what Sev went through. But they were also young and immature. And the same goes for Sev, he was young and immature. And in a way he should just get the hell over it."

Harry snorted, "He doesn't let go of things easily."

"No, you're right, he doesn't. But he's been through a lot Harry. A lot of betrayal and a lot of hurt. Though him ever admitting that he's really just a damaged young man will never happen." Pausing, Georgie gathered his thoughts. "Do you know why Severus joined the Death Eaters?" At seeing Harry shake his head, the older man continued. "Acceptance, Harry, just like any teenager wants. He wanted to belong. He was an outcast for so long that the idea of belonging to something was wonderful. And once that idea was set in his mind it was easy to make himself think he truly believed in what You-Know-Who was doing. Did you know, Harry, did you know that his best friend, his first friend, was your mother?"

Harry's mouth dropped, "What?"

Georgie nodded, "He never really believed in that pureblood shit. No, Lily was far too special to him. How could someone so sweet, wonderful, and smart be in the wrong? So what if she was Muggleborn?" Leaning forward, Georgie spoke firmly, "Severus Snape is a good man, Harry. But I will not, in any way, condone the behavior that he displayed before. But there are things that you need to know about him. Severus is scared of people knowing too much about him; he plays his cards very close to his chest. But you deserve to know, if anyone does, it's you. If Sev really does treat you badly at school, than you deserve to know why."

"But this has nothing to do with The Order or Voldemort."

Georgie choked, "Sorry, not used to hearing that name said so...plainly."

"Professor Dumbledore says that fearing a name inspires fear itself."

"And he's right, but it's still creepy.” He shuddered, “Listen, Harry, Sev needs to act like he does over the pond because he's a double agent. You know that, right?" Harry nodded, "And in being a spy he needs to keep up appearances. What you see at Hogwarts is not the real Sevvy. Though, he's not really helping that right now, with acting like he was at dinner. Georgie shot a disparaging look in the general vicinity of the picnic table.

"He doesn't hate you Harry. He becomes annoyed with you, but I think that is because he forgot what it's like to be a teenager."

"What's he really like?" Harry asked.

"Fun. Lots of fun. Sarcastic, badass, rule breaking, brilliant; he's a character all right!"

"How did you meet him?"

"After your mother and father were murdered reality and common sense snapped him back into the Light, he fled to America for a taste of freedom. He spent a few months in Azkaban and your Headmaster vouched for him and had him released. Anyway, he was rundown, hungry and sick and stumbled into a bar I used to work at. I fed him, gave him a place to stay and the rest, they say, is history."

"Why can he act differently here if Voldemort affects America as well?"

"Because Severus isn't as known here. Or he wasn't. It's complicated, but he, more or less, doesn't give a rat's ass. As far as people here know, he’s just Severus, one of Georgie’s mismatched family members. No one here knows that there's a leg of The Order here and You-Know-Who is flaming idiot in not monitoring the Americas. He's so content on Eurasia that we slip right through the cracks. There have been attacks and deaths, but only because he thinks that one attack will suppress us."

Harry was flabbergasted, "But that's ridiculous!"

"I know it is, and Sevvy knows it is, but You-Know-Who doesn't. He's cocky, Harry. He thinks his shit don't stink."

"And Snape takes that to his advantage?"

"Exactly."

"But why did he...before...?"

"I don't know. Severus Snape is a complicated man."

"I'll take that as a compliment, Georgie." Harry and Georgie looked up. Striding towards them, his hands deep in his pockets, was Snape.

"You better be here to apologize, Sev."

Snape nodded, "May I speak with Potter alone?"

"His name is Harry, and yes you may. And if I see one tear fall from his eyes, I'll break your fucking legs. Got it?"

“I see you collected another stray,” Snape said. When Georgie sent him a dark look, he hastily added, "I wouldn't put it past you."

Georgie nodded, "You better tell him everything." He stood and walked away. Hugging himself, Harry stared down at the grass. "Potter," Snape sighed, "Harry, I...I'm sorry. I over reacted before."

"The only reason you're saying that is because your friends are mad at you."

"Partially, yes, that holds some reason as to why I sought to find you. But the other, bigger part is that I am...sorry." Snape sat down in the exact spot Georgie was seated in before. Pulling up some of the grass, he ripped it into pieces.

"Wow, Severus Snape actually apologizing. We need to record this great moment in history."

Snape winced, "You have a sharp tongue, Mr. Potter, I never realized."

"You can't take points in the summer."

Agreeing, Snape said, "Come, walk with me."

Harry didn't see any other option than to join Snape as he stood. With a beckon of the head, the teen stepped to his side and they began their way further down the slope and to the banks of a stream. Harry stared down at his feet, stepping on a lone twig until is cracked in half and then kicking it clean into the water. He looked up at the Catskills in the distance, wishing he could apparate to the tippy top instead of being where he was and having this conversation with Snape.

There was a pregnant pause as they walked, each contemplating the other, trying to figure motives and sincerity. Harry quietly toed at the smooth stones at the base of the water. He was the first to speak up.

"You know, I'm well aware that it was my fault. I just don't need you of all people to shove it in my face."

"It wasn't your fault, not entirely anyway. There are many faults that are not accounted for in that...fiasco."

"No, it's my fault. And why would you even say that, now, after you blamed me before?"

Snape took his time in answering. "I was angry and I was wrong to be so. Minerva constantly badgers with me with a truth that no one should ignore, though many have. You are sixteen, Mr. Potter. You are not twenty, thirty, firty, or otherwise. It is wrong for any of us to assume that you know exactly what to do. But we have assumed that. To dire consequences."

"I'm not a baby, I'm almost bloody 17." Harry said with a glare.

"No, you are not a baby. Though, you tend to act like a toddler at times."

"Oh," Harry began, his voice filled with sarcasm, "an insult, and here I was thinking that you were actually going to stop being a prat."

Snape waved his hand in circles, "Old habits, you know."

"I'm not arrogant, either. Nor spoiled or coddled or favored, or whatever it is that you think of me."

"I have never seen anything to the contrary, Mr. Potter. As they say, perception is often the reality."

Harry grunted, "You only see what you want to see, and you know it!"

"Then show me otherwise!"

"I thought you came down here to apologize, not to bloody antagonize me!"

Snape wheeled and faced him, "I have had enough of your language, Potter!"

"Why? Your friends curse enough for the two of us!"

"My friends have nothing to do with this, you insolent brat!"

"You judged me before you even knew me and you expect me to, what? To bow to your will? To be a quiet and weak little boy who will just take your insults? No! I won't! This is me! I'm not bloody Harry Potter! I'm Harry! Just Harry!"

"You are impossible! That's what you are!"

"DAMN RIGHT!" Harry yelled. His hands were on his hips and his face turned up towards Snape's in defiance.

Snape visibly relaxed, in a quieter voice he said, "Well, at least we agree on something."

"I want to know why. I want to know why you insist on treating me the way you do. And don't give me that spy crap. Or the excuse that you think I'm arrogant. Tell me the truth."

"Allow me to keep some secrets, Potter. I'm more than slightly aware that Georgie divulged quite a bit to you."

"Actually, he really didn't."

"He will, in which case I must ask of you to let me bask in secrecy a while longer. Georgie has a big mouth and a lot of notions as to what should be known and who should know it."

Harry looked up at his professor, once again noting that he was no closer to understanding the man than he was before. Georgie was more than just a little correct in saying that Snape was a complicated man. At least, for the moment, Harry and he had reached a truce.

When their walking brought them back up to the patio, they noticed that the others had pulled their chairs around a fire. Hermione, Ron and Jena were roasting marshmallows and Baylor and Lucy were eating theirs. Georgie nursed a beer and gave both Harry and Snape a quizzical look when they walked up. The sun had all but set in the sky, leaving the bright fire as their only light aside from the sliver of red seeping behind the Catskills.

Leaning back, Baylor grabbed a chair and plopped it next to him, "Here you go, Harry, prime spot between Ron and me!" Harry smiled and took his seat. He accepted a clean stick from Lucy and the bag of marshmallows from Ron. Snape watched the scene with an inward groan. His friends had taken the teen under their wings and would do anything to make sure that he was all right, even if that meant alienating one of their best friends.

Retrieving a chair for himself, Snape sat down in between Hermione and Georgie. He did not move to take a marshmallow or one of the sticks Georgie kept for such roasting, but instead grabbed another Bud from the cooler. Whatever conversation had been held before he and Harry joined was dropped.

Later, before the three teens could fall asleep in their chairs, Georgie ushered them inside and up the stairs to his guest room. Two full beds dressed in navy blue sat waiting for the tired teens. Ron and Harry slid into the one closest to the door and Hermione took the other. Snape had retrieved their pillows and bags from his car, and though the students took their pillows, they were too tired to change into pajamas. The light clicked off and they were left to sleep. 

When morning came, Hermione was, predictably, the first one awake. She giggled and wished for a camera when she spied her two friends practically cuddling on the other bed. She never took either one to be a cuddlier, but obviously, she was wrong. Ron, being bigger, had one arm over Harry and his chin resting on his head. Harry, for his part, was curled up and seemed to snuggle against Ron's chest.

Oh, this was brilliant! They would be mortified when they awoke.

Making her bed quickly and grabbing her bath supplies from her duffle, Hermione gave her friends one last grin before setting off down the hallway to find a bathroom.

After showering, brushing her teeth, and dressing in blue jeans and a red tank, Hermione made her way barefoot down the steps, tying her hair back as she went. She headed in the direction of the kitchen, taking note of the unpretentious home and its décor. Georgie seemed to favor simplicity in his black leather couches and modest end and coffee tables. Motorcycle memorabilia was scattered throughout, miniature models, autographed helmets, and even Harley Davidson mugs adorned the shelves. Peering closer to a shelf she was passing, Hermione grinned. Mixed photographs, both Muggle and Wizard, were framed and lining the shelves. Several held a smiling Snape. One showed him young, very young, but grinning on top of a motorcycle, the bike so big it looked as though it could overtake the future Potions Master. Another held a slightly older Snape standing behind a grill at a beach, in one hand was a spatula and in the other a beer. An attractive woman with long black hair had her arms around his waist, one hand, which the camera didn't catch, was suspiciously low on his abdomen.

The teen raised her eyebrows. Snape in a romantic relationship just didn't seem normal!

Sometime that morning, Georgie must have turned the Air Conditioning off. The sliding glass doors to the patio were open and through the screened storm door, voices floated through and reached Hermione's ears.

"It's 4th of July weekend, Sev, nothing is open except for liquor stores and Wal-Mart! And anyway, where are they gonna go? You said it yourself: the car is done. They may as well stay here and come Monday we'll figure things out." Straining her ears, Hermione sought to figure whom the voice belonged to. It was male, so either Baylor or Georgie, but she wasn't familiar enough with them yet to be able to tell their voices apart without seeing them.

"This was supposed to be an adult weekend..." Snape said.

"So, what?" One of the women was speaking, "I'll just go pick up Marissa and Andy and Baylor can get Gina and Michelle, and we'll call the others and tell them to bring the kids. I didn't wanna leave my babies with the in-laws for the 4th anyway."

"No, this has been planned for weeks. I will take my students and we'll, I don't know, I'll figure something."

"Severus, honestly, just because you're British doesn't mean we don't want you here for Independence Day! Hell, we need a Brit so we can shove America's victory in their face!"

"That was charming, Lucy. Oh, how I do enjoy my time spent in the colonies."

Laughter erupted as a few playful insults were tossed between the friends. When quiet once more, Hermione heard Snape speak again, his voice so soft she could barely hear him. "You don't mind, any of you?"

"Not at all." Said a voice Hermione now knew as Lucy's.

The other female voice, Jena's, she deducted, said, "They're good kids, Sev, I like them."

"You bloody would! If you were from the UK and attended Hogwarts, no doubt you'd be Gryffindor!"

Jena laughed, "Oh, you poor Slytherin, surrounded by nasty Gryffindors! Whatever shall a snake like you do?"

"Maybe he should have been in Gryffindor!"

"Bite your tongue, Georgie!" Snape admonished at the older wizard's words.

"Don't get me started, Sevvy," Georgie continued, "If you were in Gryffindor then you would have unabashed bravery and then you could call Lizzie Grace up and tell her that you damn well love her!"

There was silence for a few moments and Hermione found herself wondering if that was the name of the woman in the photograph.

"That was low, Georgie."

"It's true. You let go of a good woman, Sev. No doubt about that. I don't care if you're thinking that it was mutual. You're the man and you're the one who should have gone after her! Chivalry should not be dead! So what if you took a position teaching at Hogwarts, you could have made it work!"

A chair scrapped the patio as someone stood. "She didn't want to leave America and I needed that job! I still do! Long distance relationships never work! We tried and we failed. 2 years of only seeing her on the weekends or in the summers, it was killing us!"

"That's bullshit, and you know it's bullshit! You're in love with her, Severus Snape, and she's in love with you!"

"This conversation is over!"

"Or, is it that you still feel guilty over Lily Potter!" a new voice chimed in.

Hermione gasped, her hand shooting up to cover her mouth, what, in the name of Merlin, did Harry's mother have to do with this?

"I would strongly advise you, Baylor McKean, to drop that line of thought NOW."

But it seemed Baylor didn't take to advice well, "It's true then, you feel guilty for falling in love with Lizzie when you reserved your-"

"ENOUGH!"

Feeling a larger argument, Hermione made her presence known in hopes that the topic would be dropped. She walked further down the hallway, "Professor Snape?"

"I'm on the patio, Ms. Granger, with a couple of meddlers."

Reaching the door, Hermione slid the screen open and stepped outside into the comfortable heat. The temperature had dropped from the upper 90's the day before to the lower 80’s. The morning was quiet and dewy and a slight breeze rustled the trees. Off  in the distance, a gentle mist hung over the mountains, graying the green trees and languidly creating a serene backdrop for the people on the patio.

Snape was standing at the edge of the patio, fuming, and the familiar scowl Hermione was so used to in potions class was laid across his face. He cooled his features, "Are you hungry, Hermione?" She nodded in confirmation. "We were thinking of getting breakfast at the diner up the road. Are the other two awake?"

"Not yet," she answered, "They're still asleep, and dare I say, cuddling." Her voice was teasing and ne eyebrow raised suggestively.

Lucy squealed, "Oh! I wanna see!" And she and Jena bolted from the chairs and ran inside, leaving a trail of laughter behind them.

Harry awoke feeling very comfortable and safe. Someone was holding him and their scent was familiar. He smiled; his eyes still closed, he snuggled closer to the warm body. A giggle above him retrieved him from his comfort and his eyes snapped over. Even without his glasses, the mess of red hair could only be one person.

"Bloody hell!" Lurching from Ron's arms, Harry jumped out of bed, tripped over the blankets, and fell, hard, onto his bottom. The giggling only became louder and he fumbled for his glasses and slipped them on. Jena and Lucy were in the doorway, bouncing with excitement.

"Oh!" Jena cooed, "You two are so cute!"

"Oi!" Harry cursed again at Ron's still sleeping form. "Get up! Up you idiot!" he said, hitting Ron's shoulder. "Stop laughing, you two! It's not that funny!"

"Aw, I love best friends, they're adorable."

"You know, they say male best friends usually end up falling in love with each other."

"Oh, I've heard that, Luce. It's so cute, it really is!"

"Stop!" Harry began to whine, "Please, I'm not bent, and neither is Ron! We just...It was cold or...something."

Lucy grinned, "Sure it was, hon." She winked, "Get showered and dressed, Hermione is already up and about, we're gonna go to the diner for breakfast. Get Big Red up too."

"Easier said than done." Harry mumbled. With a sigh, he began, once again, to try to rouse Ron, his face still very, very red.

When they were both showered and dressed in jeans and t-shirts, the adults rounded everyone up. It was decided that Baylor and Georgie would ride in Lucy's 1966 Mustang with Jena, and the kids would ride in Snape's Camaro, as the professor didn't trust Lucy's driving with his students.

When this was voiced, Ron gawked. "Are you serious? You don't trust HER driving? With the way you nearly killed us yesterday?!"

Snape only gave him a tainted smile, "Which only explains how much worse she is."

"Didn't think of that."

"No, I expect you didn't. Seatbelts!"

Not only did Ron buckled his seatbelt, but he grabbed onto the ‘oh shit' bar and hung on for dear life.

Dolly’s Diner was located in between O'Leary's Pub and Mitch's Bar; both having cars and bikes parked outside at 10:30 in the morning. Lucy, taking out her pink lipstick, smeared on a long line down the seat of one of the bikes parked outside O'Leary's.

"It's Bryon; he'll know it was me." She gave the bike a quick pat and headed into the diner.

"Blasphemy," Snape muttered at the defiled bike as he ushered the teens inside.

A short, plump woman with teased blonde hair and blue eye shadow was waiting to seat them. She had a pen behind her ear, a stained apron, and an old blue waitress' uniform. "Georgie boy!" She called out to the older wizard. He hugged her and grinned as she led them to his favorite booth in the back. Snape immediately started flipping through the jukebox, ignoring Baylor and Jena as they rearranged the tables to fit side by side with the booth so everyone could sit together. It looked as though it were a common enough occurrence that the waitress and the cook behind the counter didn’t even bat an eye.

Harry studied the menu in front of him, not sure what he was in the mood for. Snape leaned over to look at Harry's menu, "Dolly's Hungryman Breakfast is a good choice if you don't know what you want." He said, and punched in the tabs to play a song.

"That looks like so much food, though!"

"You can wrap the leftovers." Sliding in four more quarters, Snape left the music choice up to Lucy, who began punching in the numbers to her favorite songs.

"What else is good?"

Snape pondered for a minute. "The Farmer's Omelet is really good, but it doesn't come with cheese. You have to order that with it. Get provolone and Swiss if you do. Orange juice is fresh here and the meal comes with home fries and toast."

"Home fries?" Harry looked up at his professor in confusion.

"Fried potatoes with onions and maple syrup."

"Mm...That sounds good. I think I'll go for that."

"Orange juice?" The waitress asked. Harry had not even noticed her approach the table. He nodded.

She turned to Ron. "The Dolly’s Breakfast thingy."

Laughing, the waitress wrote on her notepad, "To drink?"

"Chocolate milk!" Ron grinned, than hastily added, “Uh, please, ma’am?”

Snape rolled his eyes at the redhead and ordered a Farmer's Omelet for himself as well with orange juice and black coffee which she brought over right away.

"I'm glad you two are getting along." Baylor said when the food came, "I thought Georgie was going to kill you, Sev."

Snape just shrugged and sipped his coffee and Baylor let the subject drop.

 Truthfully, the professor was completely confused by how Harry was acting. This wasn't the coddled, arrogant brat he was used to. If anything, aside from his outburst the day before, the Gryffindor was polite and respectful, even a twinge bit shy.

Ron, however, was a Weasley through and through, and though he wasn't as much of a nuisance as the twins, he was still without the brains to think before he spoke and he still was grating on Snape's nerves. The kid was chatting up Jena like he'd known her all his life. Of course, Jena often had that effect on people; it didn't mean Ron had to speak so loudly. He was, however, not monopolizing the conversation. Jena was doing that. Well. Maybe the Weasley boy wasn’t so bad. He talked less than Jena at any rate.

Shifting his thoughts, Snape contemplated Hermione. She was polite and Georgie seemed taken with her know-it-all knowledge. ‘He always did like people who were too smart for their own good,' mused Snape. But the witch hardly seemed as outspoken as she usually seemed to be in class. She listened intently to the others and only added in when she had something smart to add, which, though often, was rather welcome.

Perhaps he had been wrong to judge them as he had done so?

"So," Jena said sometime later with a wink, "you and Harry were comfy last night?"

"What do you mean?" Ron asked. Harry choked on a forkful of eggs, which only lead to Hermione and the two older witches to laugh loudly.

"Shut it!" Harry scolded, "Please!"

"Wait, what happened?"

Harry's face went red, "Nothing Ron! Nothing happened! Shut up and eat!"

The laughter from the girls had several people at other tables turning to stare at the group. Snape sat back and hid his wide smile behind the cream colored coffee mug. It wouldn’t do to rouse any more tempers, but, really, he couldn’t help but find it amusing. He was, however, a bit shocked to notice that he was actually enjoying the company the Golden Brats. Well then, it looked as though he was wrong about something after all. There was always a first time for everything, wasn’t there?

It was just after two when Harry began to feel ill. Baylor was grilling up leftover burgers and hotdogs on the grill for lunch and Harry had to wander inside the house as the smell was making him feel worse. He made his way up to the guest room and lay down on the bed, holding his stomach. Within a few minutes, Ron and Hermione were entering the room, their faces concerned.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, an entire question formed in that one word.

Harry sighed, "My stomach, I don't know why, I never get sick. I feel like I'm going to puke."

Ron sat on the bed and said, "Do you want me to get Snape or someone?"

Harry shook his head and curled tighter.

Hermione placed her hand on his forehead, "You feel a little warm and maybe you should say something to Snape. He could help; he probably has a potion for your stomach."

"I'll be fine," he said, more than a little used to dealing with these types of things on his own.

"Harry," Hermione began sternly, but was interrupted by a knock on the door. They didn't have to convince Harry to tell Snape after all, their professor stood in the doorway, his eyebrows raised in a silent question. "He doesn't feel well," Hermione told him. The potions master nodded and walked into the room.

"What's bothering you?" Snape's voice was surprisingly soft.

"My stomach," the teen relented quietly.

"I think he has a fever as well." Hermione said.

Ron moved to the end of the bed so Snape could look over Harry properly. He pulled out his wand and did a quick scan. "It looks like breakfast isn't sitting too well in you."

"'M'not used to greasy food I guess."

"No, most likely not. Hogwarts food is almost ridiculously healthy. How do you eat in the summers?"

Harry just shrugged, not really wanting to answer that. He shot a look at Hermione, who had opened her mouth to answer. She glared and said, "Honestly, Harry!"

Snape looked at the young witch, "Something you would like to share, Ms. Granger?"

"Yes, there is. But Harry..."

"...Thinks you should be quiet!" Harry finished for her, then groaned at the exertion.

"Oh, sure, Harry. I won't mention that the Dursleys practically starve you and Ron and I send you food so you won't die of malnutrition over the hols."

"Hermione! That's private!" Harry yelled, but the extra force only made him tense his stomach and he groaned and tightened his arms around himself.

Snape looked livid. "Weasley, Ms. Granger, out. Now." The softness was gone from his voice. The two teens shot Harry an apologizing look and vacated the room.

With a flick of his wand, Snape closed the door. "Harry, you will tell me exactly what she means. And it will be the truth or so help me, I may not be able to control my temper."

"What truth, Snape? The one where my relatives hate and starve me or the one where you believe I'm a pampered prince?"

"Watch your sharp tongue, Potter, do not test me!"

Harry swallowed and looked away. The last person he wanted to know his secrets was Snape, but the professor would not have silence, Harry felt his hand touch his chin and gently turn his head to face him again.

In the same soft voice he had used before, Snape said, "Already, you have altered my theories on you, Potter. Please, tell me the truth." A knot had formed inside the man's stomach. There was a thought, one he had pushed away ever since he met the Boy-Who-Lived, that had ate at his mind during the nights when school started its session after the holidays. He had seen how thin the boy looked as he walked into the Great Hall for the feast; he had seen how he devoured everything in sight as if he had not eaten since the farewell feast the semester before. But the thoughts that Harry was anything less than spoiled rotten while with his relatives were hard to vanquish. They made it easier for the potions professor to dislike the boy.

"Please, sir, don't make me tell." Harry’s voice was so little that Snape needed a moment to gather himself.

"Your reluctance is as good as a confession, Harry." Snape said sadly. "What else do they do to you? Aside from neglect you?"

"Please..." Harry's eyes were welling up ever so slightly. He hastily wiped away his tears, frustrated with himself for becoming so upset.

Snape nodded, as if this act was also a confession to him. He transfigured Harry's clothes into pajamas and helped him under the covers. "Rest for a bit, we'll see if your stomachache dissipates with a nap, if not, I'll see if I can find a potion to help you. And, for the rest of your time with me, I'll be monitoring your food intake to make sure you eat nothing that will upset your stomach even more.

Harry answered quietly, "Yes, sir."

"Try and sleep, Potter. For once, do as you're told." The young wizard was about to retort sarcastically when he noticed the mirth in Snape's eyes. His professor was only kidding with him.

"I'll try my hardest," Harry said with a grin.

Snape gifted him with the briefest of smiles before he stood and left the room, closing the door sympathetically behind him.

"Hey, Sev?" Lucy asked; she was waiting at the bottom of the stairs for him sometime later, watching as he slowly made his way back onto the first floor. "We're gonna do a Wal-Mart run for the rest of the stuff for the fourth, you in?"

Snape shook his head, "I'll pass, Luce. Harry is sick and..." He glared at her knowing smirk. "What?!"

"Nothing! There’s leftovers in the kitchen and," she answered in a sing song voice, "we'll take the other two and...We'll see you two later. BYE!" With a skip, she left the house, ushering Ron and Hermione into her car. Jena sat in the front and flipped him off as they sped away, Ron hastily putting his seatbelt on as they did so. Snape narrowed his eyes. Something was up.

"We're gonna go up to Bellfare and pick up some gas for the grill." Snape turned to see Georgie pocketing his wallet and Baylor digging his keys out. "You take care of that kid, got it?" Lightbulb. They were all leaving on purpose.

"I know, I know, you'll break my fucking legs if I don't." He said instead of outing their plans. It wasn’t worth the aggravation, when Georgie got an idea in his head, there really was no turning him back. The old man could be even more stubborn than the professor, and THAT was saying something.

"Good boy. Remind me and I’ll give you a doggie bone later!" Georgie grinned and lead Baylor out. In the doorway, Snape barked as he watched them leave. Upstairs, a teen was asleep and the new revelations his professor had learned about him were throwing him completely off. He cringed. His own stupidity, for years past, weighted on him like a wet and soggy clothing. Snape groaned and made his way back up the steps to check on the boy. He was asleep when he cracked open the door, curled on his side and still clutching his stomach. So, he made his way out to the back patio where he sat at the table and nursed a single beer, chain smoking and mulling over everything that had transpired within the last 24 hours. It was ridiculous. How could his perception have been so damn wrong? And, for that matter, how the hell and they altered so damn drastically over the course of one day?

He could just see the headmaster and his deputy smirking in that way that could only say: I told you so.

“Oh, shut up, you two.” He spoke aloud, swiftly finishing the butt of his now warm beer with a grimace. He would never waste it; that was a high sin in Georgie’s house.

Back in the house, he filled a red solo cup with some leftover macaroni salad and munched thoughtfully. A few potions would perk the boy right up, and maybe they could get out and actually do something. He had wanted to wait to see if the boy would feel better on his own, but really, who was he kidding? This was boring as all hell and with the rest of the nuisances gone for the foreseeable future, why not take advantage of it?

Harry Potter was different, very different, than he had originally thought. So, maybe he should take this opportunity to get to know him better?

A plan in mind, he made his way into the bathroom and opened Georgie's Wizard spaced cabinet. Snape dug through his personal stores of potions, each was labeled in his own handwriting, as he, himself, was solely responsible for keeping the older Wizard stocked.

Taking what he needed from the cabinet, Snape walked down the hallway and eased himself quietly into the guestroom. He placed the vials on the nightstand next to the Harry's bed and took out his wand. It looked as they the boy most definitely was feeling worse. Well. That just would not do.

Snape frowned at this, but still did not want to wake the boy just yet. He had only fallen asleep a little over an hour prior, but, if they were to make him feel better, it would have to be done. He could go back to sleep as soon as he had taken his potions, if he wanted to. Unless, of course, Severus Snape could grow balls enough to ask the boy about his life with the Dursley's. Or open his mouth and ask if Harry wanted to do something with just the two of them, and damn it all, why did the fear of rejection scare him still?

Take the plunge, you old fool!

"Potter," Snape lightly tapped the boy's shoulder. "Harry? Wake up; I need to give you some potions.

"Professor?" Harry blinked up at him and searched the nightstand for his glasses, nearly knocking over some of the vials in the process. Snape bit back a snide remark, steadied the vials, and handed Harry his glasses.

"Here, for your fever." The potion was a dark red; it looked, to Harry, almost like blood and his stomach churned at the thought.

"I thought we were going to wait until later, to see if I felt better?"

"I was going to, I only brought these out just in case, but you looked worse, so, it was enough to worry me."

Harry stared up at his professor. ‘Did he just say that he was worried?' he thought.

Snape saw the reaction to his words written all over the boy's face and inwardly groaned. He couldn't believe that he had just admitted out loud that he was worried about the brat. "Well, you know, figuratively speaking." It was a bad cover up, but at least it was something.

Harry, though, thankfully let it slide. He sat up slowly, moving a pillow behind his back as he leaned against the headboard. Snape handed him the vial and Harry took the potion quickly, grimacing at the taste.

"This is for your stomach." The light blue potion didn't taste any better but Harry drank it anyway. He felt the contents of the vial spread down his throat and chest and warm his belly pleasantly. The sick feeling went away almost instantly. He blinked in surprise; he really loved magic!

"Thank you, sir."

Snape nodded and sat on the edge of his bed. "We need to talk about what you told me before, or rather, what was implied. But," he said when Harry moved to interrupt, "if you'd rather sleep for a bit, you may. We will be talking though." He hardened his voice enough to let his student know that he was serious.

Harry sighed. "Might as well get it over with."

"How very Gryffindor of you, Mr. Potter."

Harry shrugged, "I try." There was a slight cheekiness under his tone and Snape he was actually glad to hear it. If anything, the boy had plenty of fight left in him.

Losing the sternness in his voice Snape said, "What did your relatives allow you to eat?"

Looking down at his hands, Harry tried to fight the urge to lie. What did it matter now? If everyone knew the truth, it would do nothing. Within just a few weeks, Harry would be 17-years-old and an adult, by Wizarding standards. He could shout the truth to the world and still his uncle could do him no harm. Not any longer, anyway. Harry had no intent of returning to Privet Drive at all this summer. On the 31st, the wards would fall and Voldemort would most likely descend upon the house in full rampage. But Harry failed to find himself caring. His aunt and uncle had been warned and they could do with that what they will.

They could no longer hurt him.

Harry could enjoy his summer with his two best friends and come autumn he could leave his innocence behind like a pair of swim trunks. He would defeat the Dark Lord--of this he was determined!--and he would most likely come to his own death as well.

At least if he told Snape the truth, the whole truth also, someone would know his story. And maybe his professor would tell others and the world would know.

And maybe then, those who were also abused would finally have a voice.

Harry raised his head slowly. He looked into Snape's eyes and spoke in a low, steady voice. "I was fed only when I completed all of my chores and that was barely ever. My uncle's list of things for me to accomplish was long and nearly impossible. But when I did finish my duties, I was allowed to eat from the leftovers of the meal I, myself, had cooked. On the occasions in which I failed to complete the multitude of chores, I was sent to my cupboard, and later my small room, without any food. My aunt, I believe, took some pity on me and would allow me a sandwich and juice. And if my uncle had left for work and there was still breakfast leftover in the mornings, I was allotted to eat my fill." He tilted his chin up, never breaking eye contact with the potions master in an effort to show him that he was strong, regardless of his past.

The effect was not lost on Snape, as he was speechless for several moments after the boy had spoken. Finally, when he had regained some sense, he said, "Why did you never tell anyone? You could have been removed from their...care...and would not have had to suffer as you did."

"You cannot be brave, Professor Snape, if you have only had good things happen to you."

"They could have killed you!"

"Obviously I had quite the will to live since I'm still alive. And anyway, I said enough without saying more than once. No one ever listened to me. I learned at a young age that to survive you can count on no one but yourself." There was defiance in the boy's eyes. He was daring Snape to combat what he had just spoken. But the older Wizard did not argue. These were truths that he knew all too well.

"Did they ever hit you?"

"Yes."

"How often?"

"Often enough." Harry answered simply.

"Potter, answer the question."

"My relatives found no trouble in locking me in a cupboard and starving me. Answer your own damn question."

The response was so unlike what Snape had expected that he found himself standing and stepping back from the bed. "They beat you?"

"No, THEY did not. My uncle, however, did." He paused, “Though when he catch me, which wasn’t very often,” Harry started, rather proudly, “Dudley had a mean punch, But as I said, I’m fast. Too fast for him!”

Something flashed in Snape's eyes that Harry had so often seen in his own. It was anger unlike any other that resided only within those who had been abused such as he had been. And Harry understood. He tilted his head, contemplating this new revelation.

"You were beaten also." It wasn't a question; it was statement, said like a fact in a monotone voice that held no room for confusion. Snape nodded. "Well, then you should have seen the signs, given that you knew of them all too well yourself. But as I stated before, Professor, you only see what you want to see."

"I want to see the truth."

"Then see it!"

There was a long silence that stretched between the two Wizards. At length, Snape spoke, "I will not ask for forgiveness on my past actions, but perhaps I can make it up to you?"

"I'm listening."

"If you want, the three of you may stay with me through the duration of the summer, and I promise I will make it interesting. I will not tell Professor Dumbledore where you are, as I had planned to when you would have left my care."

Harry jolted and snapped at Snape, "I thought you said you wouldn't tell!"

"I wasn't going to tell him WHERE you were EXACTLY, just that you were on a road trip and safe. Do not think news of your disappearance hadn't reached my ears. My plan was to ease everyone's worries. I don't think you three realized what you have done by just up and vanishing to America."

"Hermione's parents knew."

"Well, that's just great for HER parents, given that they are not part of our world!"

Harry fell silent, upon reflection it became shockingly clear just how rash and foolish their decision to go on the trip without telling anybody was. His voice was quiet when he again spoke, "I'm sorry. We didn't think."

"No, it's obvious that you did not. But, that aside, I would have done the same thing in your shoes."

"What? You?"

Snape raised an eyebrow and said, "Have you learned nothing of me since yesterday afternoon? I thought it was clear that who I am at Hogwarts is a polar opposite of who I really am." He grinned, "I can better prove it, when we travel down to my home after the 4th of July barbecue."

"How?"

"You'll see. For now, how are you feeling?"

Harry smirked and looked rather impressed with himself and the potions, "Much better, actually."

"Good! Then would you like to actually DO something this afternoon instead of stay in bed?"

Harry paused and thought for a moment, "But what if I feel sick again?"

"I highly doubt that you will. I'll carry a pepper-up-potion just in case."

"And the others...?"

"...Most likely planned this. They are all gone, at some store or another." Snape threw his hands up, letting Harry know what his friends did was out of his hands.

"So, you never hated me?" Harry asked as he stood up, stretching.

"Well, I did...dislike...you for a great while. You've since then distorted my vision of your life, so I can't REALLY find a way to dislike you. And...You aren't your father." He took a deep breath, "I had no right to judge you for what your appearance represented to me."

"Wait," Harry grinned, "was that an apology?"

"You will not hear the word ‘sorry' out of my mouth, so yes. Now, hush up." With a flick of his wand, Snape transfigured Harry's clothes back to normal.

Harry looked down at his clothing as they changed and then back up at his professor, "You apologized yesterday. I heard the words ‘I'm sorry,' I think, twice? Was it?"

Snape chuckled, "Lapse in judgment, I assure you."

"Oh? Was that all?"

"Momentary. A fleeting flash in which I seemed to have been replaced by a doppelganger, very wicked, indeed." When Snape laughed, his entire face changed, this was something Harry was beginning to notice. The hard contours of his features softened and his persona became brighter. It was amazing, Harry thought, how such a small thing such as laughter could change one's visage so drastically.

"So, where are we going, Professor?"

"First, we are to get you a proper, non-greasy, healthy, but tasty lunch. As well as myself, since I have not yet eaten, well, save for a cup of macaroni salad some time ago And a beer. So, breakfast of champions. Then, I was thinking we could drive up to the lake and possibly go swimming. It's a tourist spot; there are little shops and such. And the best Italian Ice place I've ever been to." Thinking, he added, "And you may call me Severus. I see no reason to continuously refer to me as Professor or Sir."

Harry raised his eyebrows but said nothing in reference to his professor's name, instead, he asked, "Why don't we apparate? We can side-along, can't we?"

Snape huffed, "Driving is so much more fun!" He grinned and jiggled his keys in his pocket, "Something about breaking speeding laws and then obliviating cops is just...invigorating!" Well, when he put it like that!

True to his word Snape made sure that Harry's lunch was healthy and not too heavy on his stomach. They each had salads at a Greek Café with lemonade and pita bread. When they were back on the road and headed north, Harry rolled his window down and let the wind caress his face. It felt almost as good as flying.

A little over 15 minutes later, they stopped again to buy Harry a bathing suit. Snape showed more of his mischievous side by buying Harry several vintage rock tees, pointing out that the young Wizard could not be seen with him in public unless properly dressed.

They ended up spending more than an hour in the store, Harry buying a multitude of jeans and tees that the professor approved of as ‘rock' enough. He was even witness to Snape shopping for himself, and when they left the store, Harry donned some of his new clothes. He wore new blue jeans with a red t-shirt sporting a black Aerosmith logo. He had never even heard of the band, but Snape had assured him that they were pretty much close to godliness. Not for the first time Harry wondered just how much of himself the professor hid at Hogwarts.

It was near 4:30 by the time they reached the lake. The banks were still packed by locals and tourists, easily separated by the varied degrees of tanning. "I'm not one for lake swimming, usually. So you can have your fun in the water. I may take a dip or so, but I will most definitely enjoy the shops," Snape paused and grinned, "They have the coolest shit. And you tell anyone that I used the word ‘cool,' I will chop you into little pieces and feed you to the squid at Hogwarts."

Harry laughed, "I want to look in the shops first."

Snape nodded, "This is my favorite," he said, leading him into an smoke-laced building. It was filled with the most bizarre items Harry had ever seen. There was a wall of incense, housing different scents as well as holders that ranged from the standard piece of wood to a three foot tall elephant that held the incense stick in its trunk. The floor of the store was filled with 4-way racks, Z-racks, and tables, all piled with the oddest clothing. He poked through some of the racks before turning to face a wall lined with glassed shelves. Figures of Muggle ideas of Wizards, Faeries, Dragons, and every other sort of creature thought to be myth were places sporadically with handwritten signs stating, "DO NOT TOUCH! DRAGONS BITE!" and "UNATTENDED CHILDREN WILL BE GIVEN CAFFEINE AND A WHISTLE!"

Another shelf housed handmade instruments. Harry picked up one of the drums. The painting on the base showed an evil looking man that was closely related to the image of Satan blowing fire from his mouth onto a charred man with wings. He nearly dropped the item in his haste to put it down.

Snape was chatting up an attendant who stood behind a glass counter filled with jewelry. In the professor's hands was large wooden fat man. When he caught Harry's eyes, he put the statue on the counter, turned it to face Harry, winked, and pointed at it. "Buddha. What do you think?"

"What are you going to do with that? You're not a Buddhist?! THAT requires being KIND."

Snape laughed and shook his head, "No, but he's cool looking isn't he? I thought I'd put it in my classroom and really give the students a roll."

"You have a sick, twisted, sense of humor, do you know that?"

"If I was really sick, I'd hang those over my desk." He gestured to a bundle of realistic, fake shrunken heads hanging from the ceiling.

"You would too, I know you would."

"I am highly contemplating it."

"You should, man," the attendant said. His voice was lazy and he had blonde dreads hanging passed his shoulders. "Scare those kids, man, it would be fucking hysterical!"

Snape winked at Harry, "I'm already anticipating the first years," he turned back to the employee, "I'll take three. And Buddha. And one of those brown leather bags with the Native American designs on them, yes, that one behind the counter," the man handed it to him, "Oh, and the incense I handed you before. And..." Snape tapped his chin, looking around the store. "That Wizard figure, he looks like someone I know." Again, he grinned and winked at Harry. The figurine was brought over and the teen started to laugh right when he saw it. It was a white bearded Wizard in an obscene blue pointed hat with berries on it in blue dress robes littered with stars. He was kneeling over a tree stump, pointing his wand, his other hand on his hip. "Look, Harry," Snape said with an impish glean in his eyes, "it's Professor Dumbledore."

"Oh, he's gonna kill you! I'm gonna tell, I am! You're making fun of the headmaster!" Harry poked at the purple wand in the hand of the figurine, adding an extra jab to the star on top of it. "It's ridiculous!" But he couldn't help but laugh, the ceramic Wizard was just so absurd!

"I'm going to give it to him. He'll put it in his office; I know he will. Hey, Revo, What do you got to interest a 16-year-old?"

"Revo?" Harry asked.

"My parents were hippies." He nodded and grinned. "Revolution Rain Ross."

"Wait, that's your NAME? Like real name?"

"It's on my birth certificate, little man. Anyway, interesting for a kid who's 16 and thinks Revolution is weirder than Severus... Hmmm..."

"My name is most certainly not more bizarre then Revolution!" Snape said, crossing his arms and raising one sardonic eyebrow,

Revo ignored him, "Been coming in here for years, telling me I'm the odd one." He said to Harry, sotto voice, then, brightly, he asked, "What are you into?"

Harry smirked, "Magic."

"That's awesome little man, come with me!" He led Harry to the back of the store. "Okay, so these candles represent different things with each color. And they're supposed to heighten those emotions if you light them. And this is a journal for spells and such." He handed Harry a worn leather bound book. The front was engraved with a silver quarter moon. "I dunno, little man, there's loads of stuff here dealing with magic, we even have cauldrons."

Peering closer, Harry examined the black caldron and shook his head. "Not the standard thickness." He heard Snape snort behind him. "I like the journal though. And, even if they're crock, I wanna get those candles."

Revo smiled and took down a package of the thick candles. "Will this be together?"

"No," Harry said just as Snape was saying "Yes". Harry glared.

"I will be paying." Snape said smoothly.

"You paid for lunch. And my shirts."

"How observant, Potter. Revo?" The blonde nodded and snatched the journal from Harry's hand. He began ringing everything up.

"Pain in the arse." Harry muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"That's what I thought."

After looking through some of the other little shops, including a used CD store in which Harry had the employees aid in his musical expansion (much to Snape's dismay, the boy seemed to like that new crap better the [Hmph!] good music HE listened too.) they finally made their way toward the water.

Snape laid out a blanket, sat, kicked his shoes off and watched a volleyball game going on about 10 yards from them. Harry sat on his other side and opened the CDs he had just bought.

"I need a CD player. Can we stop somewhere so I can get one?"

Snape disdainfully eyed the album in his hand. "If you insist."

"Problem, Professor?"

"I'm sorry, what's my name?"

Harry had been having issues with this all day. "Revolution?"

"Cheeky brat."

"Severus Snape, git of the dungeons."

"Charming," Snape grinned, "And you, Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Wouldn't-Bloody-Die."

"Yeah, something like that."

"Let me see that," Snape said, taking the album from his hands. "What type of band name is My Chemical Romance, anyway?"

"The type that is on the same list as Guns ‘N Roses."

Snape gasped, "You bite your tongue!"

"No way, that would hurt and then I couldn't tease you."

He was answered with a grunt. "'Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge.' Are they joking?"

"'Appetite for Destruction' much?"

Another grunt, "And then, of course, we have the stunning follow up called "The Black Parade.' How brooding." Sifting through the other CDs Harry bought, Snape snorted out their names. "Linkin Park? All American Rejects? 30 Seconds to Mars, SUM 41? Blink-182? Harry honestly, I've tried, within the past 24 hours, to instill in you good music and you come out with...what? The Killers? What IS that?"

"I heard some of the songs in the store and I liked them!"

"Good Charlotte? Where do they come up with these names?!"

Harry coughed and, to Snape, it sounded suspiciously like 'AC/DC'.

"All right! Truce! I get it; band names are ridiculous all around the board. I thought you liked the stuff I played in my car?"

"Never said I didn't." Slipping off his shirt and jeans and leaving himself only in his swim shorts, Harry kicked sand on Snape and ran off to the water.

"Brat!" The professor yelled, wiping sand off his jeans.

In no time, it seemed, Harry was involved in a water game with some of the other Muggle teens at the lake. Every second or so, he heard a yell of ‘MARCO!' followed by giggles and several voices, including Harry's, answering back, ‘POLO!'

Stretching, the potions master laid back and closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of the sun on his face. It was nearing six and he knew that the lifeguards were off duty at seven. In the meantime, he relaxed and occasionally strained his ears to hear Harry's voice to make sure he was okay.

Closing his eyes, Snape allowed himself to drift.

"What the hell is your problem?!"

"Get off of me!"

"Someone call the cops, this is ridiculous! Let him go!"

There was that familiar and odd feeling in between being awake and asleep that Snape felt. His chest felt light and he winced as he was roughly pulled from the latter. Blinking, he groaned as the voices grew louder. One was gruff and drunk sounding, another distressed, and another accusing. There were other voices, mostly echoes of the third and it wasn't until the second voice pleaded to be released again that the professor realized that it belonged to Harry.

He shot up quickly, standing and sending sand everywhere. "Harry?" he called out. Though still foggy from his nap, the sensation a horrible panic was rising up within him.

"Severus!"

It was coming from down by the water and Snape was sprinting towards the scene before he could fully comprehend it. A Muggle man who was taller than Snape was and much more muscled had Harry's right arm in his grip. The teen was grimacing and struggling to free himself while several onlookers, mostly female, or too young to help, looked on. One woman was yelling at the man loudly.

"What the hell is going on?" Snape snapped, as soon as he became close enough. The man who held Harry turned to face him.

"None of your damned business, Asshole!"

The smell of alcohol accosted Snape's senses. Oh, perfect. He took a moment to regain his ground. "Let him go. Now."

"I have an idea, you fucking Brit, go back to your own country. And take your stupid accent with you!"

Was that supposed to be an insult? "If that's the case, I'll take him as well, because if you haven't noticed, he's also British, you bloody imbecile."

"He's a lot cuter than you."

Snape felt vomit rise in his throat. "You are drunk, and you do not want to get into it with me. Let. Him. Go."

"I don't want to get into you, but I wouldn't mind getting into him!" the laugh that he gave after saying that made Snape feel even more sick. He glanced at Harry's terror-stricken face; the boy was struggling more frantically when the words left the drunk's mouth.

"I'm calling the cops!" the woman yelled, "I'm calling them, now," she had her cell phone out, "unless you let him go!"

The man only deepened his drunken grin and grabbed Harry's other arm, causing the boy to yell out in pain. "Severus, help!" His green eyes were wide with fear and pleading.

Snape had had enough. He lunged toward the man, hoping to have him release Harry in order to defend himself. But the potions professor grabbed only air as he fell and hit the sand and the familiar ‘crack!' that sounded made his heart drop.

What transpired next was a pale blur to Severus Snape, as both magical and muggle authorities were alerted. Although since the kidnapping was done by apparating, Harry could be anywhere and it didn't fully make sense to alert both parties, it was just that Snape was, for once, at a loss for what to do. Panic has settled in his stomach and he felt sick. He was pretty sure the police were called by the muggles, and at this point, it was infinity better to have more people working in this than not. But by the time all of the witnesses were interviewed (and then obliviated by Aurors) Harry had been missing for nearly two hours and Snape felt the beginnings of a killer headache.

"Sir, I'm Auror Michael Jenkins." Snape looked up from staring at the untouched possessions of Harry's on the blanket. A tall wizard stood in front of him with sandy blond hair and brown eyes. The professor nodded his acknowledgment of him, looked back down at the CDs and discarded clothing, and swore under his breath. It was hard to believe that only a few short hours ago he was teasing the boy about his choices in music. "Mr. Snape, there really isn't anything else you can do here. You should go home and rest and we'll be in contact." The dark-haired wizard snapped his head up to look at the man.

"No." Snape said, "Absolutely not. I'm not leaving without Harry." Doing his best to intimidate the auror, he put on his most unsurpassed glare.

"I'm sorry, I know this is very hard for you, but it's prudent that you return home. There really isn't anything you can do at the moment." The light haired wizard was barely fazed by the glare that usually sent his students running. Snape dropped the look.”We are aware of the sensitivity of this case, of who the victim is. We promise you that everything in our power is being done to find the Boy-Who-Lived and we are adhering to secrecy. There really is nothing more you can do here.”

"He is more than just the Boy-Who-Lived! He is a smart, kind, and competent young mna, he’s braver than you could ever be! And NO. I cannot, I will not just do nothing!" He snapped, "This is my fault to begin with. And I have to-"

"I understand your distress, Sir," Jenkins interrupted firmly though understandably, famous or not, the teen was loved and distressed guardians all acted pretty much the same; however, it was imperative that they returned t their homes, not just to essentially not be in the way, "but I really must ask you to go home. If the kidnapper makes contact-"

"He won't. He didn't want money. He...He was making se...sexual advances. Toward Harry. Fuck. Shit! If he lays one finger on him...!"

"Please, Mr. Snape, you need to rest, you've been through quite an ordeal. I can apparate you if you don't feel up to it." He moved to take Snape's arm but the professor stepped back quickly.

"No. Besides, I drove."

Jenkins nodded, "Then I will escort you to your car." The implication was obvious; he wanted to make sure that Snape did indeed leave. “We WILL find him. If he isn’t after money, than he doesn’t know who Harry is, and that, well, that’s ups his chances for survival.”

Forfeiting, the potions master nodded, gathered up his and Harry's belongings, and allowed the auror to walk him to the Camaro. Jenkins lightly squeezed his shoulder when they arrived at the car and gave him what the auror hoped was a reassuring smile.

Snape’s pinched look in return was almost identical to all the other parents and guardians Jenkins had encountered throughout his fifteen years on the force. He waited until Snape turned out of the parking lot before turning back to the crime scene and letting out a deep sigh.

These cases were the ones he dreaded the most, and in most instances, he was only placating the parents when he said that he would find them. They were usually too distraught to remember what he said and it was far more important that they were home and waiting for a random note than hindering the investigation.

The truth was that if the kidnapper did not actually know who Harry was, well, then he was most likely already dead.

There was laughter coming from the dining room when Snape entered the house. He quietly shut the door, allowing himself several moments of respite before he told of his irresponsibility. For a moment he just stood still, hand on the closed front door and his head tilted toward the sound of his happy friends and students. They were trading stories of mishaps, it seemed, as he heard Jena complete her telling of the time she accidently transfigured her baby brother into a turtle. Ron launched into one of the many adventures he, Hermione, and Harry had stumbled into, his voice loud with excitement.

‘Ironic, isn't it?' Snape thought to himself. ‘Of all the times Harry could have met his end through the years, this, a simple kidnapping, is going to be the one to do it.' He caught himself, ‘No! Don't think like that! Why must you ALWAYS be a Negative Nancy!' The last was in Georgie's voice, his, not Dumbledore’s nor anyone else, was most often his conscience and his voice of reason. Sometimes, it was Lily, and damn, that one hurt the most. He was lucky it wasn’t her at that moment.

"If you think that's bad," Ron was saying when Snape began listening again, "You should have seen Harry disarm Snape. He went FLYING across the room!" Ah, so the incident in the Shrieking Shack when they were in third year was what they were talking about. Snape groaned softly, a 13-year-old had pretty much owned him, and by the laughter from his friends, he knew he wasn't about to live that down.

If, that was, they ever spoke to him again when they learned he had lost the Boy-Who-Lived.

‘Oh, Merlin,' sighed Snape as he pushed away from the door and made his way to the dining room. Georgie, Baylor, Jena, Lucy and the two teens were seated around the table, empty pizza boxes were piled in the corner and a box of chocolate covered doughnuts sat open in the middle of the table. Ron was biting into one as he continued the story, "Of course Old Snapers wasn't too keen on Harry knocking him out when he came to, but hey, doesn't change the fact that it's still funny now!"

Snape stood in the doorway, watching the scene in front of him and not wanting to interrupt and inform them of what had happened. Saying it would only make it more real. But if Severus Snape was anything, he sure as hell wasn't a coward. He stepped into the room.

"Speaking of Old Snapers! He has returned!" Baylor said with his voice light. Ron wheeled around in his chair.

"Oh, crap, don't kill me!"

This only sent his friends into hysterics and had Hermione shaking her head, "Honestly, Ronald," she scolded.

There was no use in delaying the inevitable, Snape cleared his throat and said, "I need to-" but he was interrupted by Georgie.

"Where's Harry?" The man was beaming, happy that the two were getting along.

"No, he...I..." He made a frustrated noise. "We went up to the lake in Cooperstown and some guy...well...wizard, actually, took him. I'm sorry. I fell asleep; I was irresponsible, and he was kidnapped." All this was said with Snape looking straight at Georgie in the bravest manner possible. He didn't dare look at his students.

"WHAT?!" That was Ron. He stood quickly, his chair falling back. "What do you mean?!"

"I think I spoke clearly, Mr. Weasley! Harry was kidnapped, all right? I fucked up!"

"You notified congress? That Harry Potter went missing?" Jena asked.

"Of course I did! Both magical and muggle services know. How stupid do you think I am?!"

Jena held out her hands in peace, “Okay, I’m sorry, Sev, of course you did.”

Hermione was barely holding back tears, "They know where to contact you?"

Snape glared his answer to her question, "Obviously."

"We all need to calm down, Sev, I know you," Georgie said, "you get upset, you get defensive. So just stop while you're ahead. Tell us everything."

Taking a deep breath and seating himself tiredly at the table, he began his tale of the events preceding the kidnapping and what had taken place afterwards. When he finished, everyone remained quiet for a long while.

It was Lucy who spoke first, "They know what they're doing, the aurors, they know. And they'll find Harry and he'll be fine, okay?" It was meant to reassure, but it wasn't helping at all.

The silence that affected the group was like a bad cold and Snape found it nearly impossible to look the teens in the eyes. How could he face them—or anyone in that matter!—when he had failed so spectacularly.

A ringing sound startled the quiet and nearly all of them shook in surprise.

"That's my floo!" Georgie jumped up.

"I told them to contact me here!" Snape was rushing toward the living room even as he spoke. The others raced to follow him. But by the time they all scrambled into the room, the head in the floo was leaving and Snape was turning to face the group, his face hopeful, "They found him! I need to go down to New York City. Now." He was already stepping into the floo and grabbing a fistful of powder.

"Is he okay?!" Ron yelled. His hand gripping Hermione's tightly.

"They didn't say; I have to go. American Congress of Magic!" And he was gone in a rush of green flames. 

Harry did not know where he was. All he was aware of was the seedy and horrible smelling room that the man had apparated him too, the muggle man who turned out to be a wizard, that is. He could see the dirt and grease stained walls, the busted arm stair with the springs showing, and the empty bottles of Old English lying along the grimy floor. But he didn’t know, even a little bit, where this room was. He was left, locked, in the there for a long time before the man finally reappeared.

The teen's heart beat rapidly, pounding in his chest as he realized that his wand was lying under his jeans on the beach. He had no way to protect himself. Did this man know who he was? Or was this really just a random abduction. Harry had gotten himself out of sticky situations before nut this, well, he didn’t know if his sheer dumb luck could help him this time.

Like a cornered deer, his eyes shot wildly around him, searching for some form of escape. The drunken wizard hovered over him, a gleam in his glazed over eyes that told Harry all he needed to know about the man's intentions. If he knew who Harry was, he didn’t care. His mind was set on one track, and that was the handsome boy he had taken from the lake. The one that looked just like…

But Harry would be damned before he let anyone touch him like that.

Dropping to the floor in false defeat, he waited until the perv was leaning over him to lean back and kick him in the crotch. With his kidnapper doubled over in pain, Harry lunged for the familiar outline in his jeans pocket: his wand. He ripped the wand free and pointed it at him.

"A wizard," the man gasped, still hunched over in pain.

Harry only smirked and with a flick of the borrowed wand called out, "Stupify!" It was satisfying to watch the pervert sail across the room, but Harry knew that he could not stick around any longer.

Slipping the wand in the waistband of his swim trunks, Harry ran from the room, in his haste, however, he failed to check the rooms in which he ran into. Two other equally dirty looking wizards were seated on a foul, grey couch watching American Football. They jumped to their feet when Harry burst into the room. The television was so loud it wasn't a wonder why they hadn't heard his former spell. Their wands were stretched in front of them, but, in their own drunken states, they had not the reflexes to react before Harry brandished the stolen wand.

"Expelliarmus! Petrificus Totalus!"

With the two men disabled, Harry bolted, finally making his way out and into the hallway. It was then that he knew he had been taken to an apartment. His body was catching up to his mind though and Harry panted as he darted his eyes around the disgusting hallway, taking in what he saw. Shredded wallpaper, cracked and missing floor tiles, and a grotesque hue of beige that may have at one time been a pristine white.  At the end, behind him, was a red EXIT sign, though at the moment it was looking rather blurry. Giving himself up to survival instinct, he ran, just as the door from the apartment he had escaped banged open.

"Get back here, you little shit!"

Pushing through the door to the staircase, the teen didn't even bother to look behind him; he already knew he was being pursued. It was pure, bloody instinct, and his fight or flight had been triggered. It had chosen flight. And it was right. The only way Harry got out of this alive was if his speed stayed true, just as when he ran from Dudley.

Jumping down the steps at such a force that he slammed into the wall every time he came to the end of each set of stairs, Harry finally made his way into the entrance lobby of the building. Sprinting past a wall of mailboxes, he aimed for the front door. Sunlight fought its way through the years of neglected cleaning and the few smudges from equally dirty hands.

He was so close.

Pain, searing pain, engrossed his wrist as the man grabbed it, finally catching up to him. Harry cried out -he was so close! -and even more so when he felt the bone in his left wrist snap as the man twisted his arm. The resounding crack echoed in the empty lobby and a strangled cry from Harry’s mouth followed it.

Pulling him close, the perv wrapped his arms around him and whispered in Harry's ear. "You're mine." The smell of malt liquor assaulted the teen's senses and he gagged. He ran his hand down Harry's bare chest. "Where's my wand, little boy?"

Again, Harry allowed human instinct to take control. He bent his head down and bit hard on the arm that entrapped him.

"Fuck!" the perv yelled and loosened his grip on Harry long enough that the boy was able to squirm free. The man yelled and reached for him, but Harry was already out the door and running, at full speed, down the street.

He allowed himself a reprieve several blocks away to catch his breath. The neighborhood was broken down and dreary, the buildings the color of cold gravy and the streets littered with potholes. Each building he passed looked out at him like depressed old men, the windows sagging and sad, as if they remembered times long forgotten when the sparse lawns were green and children ran and played through the gushing waters of now decrepit looking fire hydrants. Old sneakers hung from the power lines and graffiti and stickers covered the street signs. One had a black and white one under the word so that the sign read: STOP WAR. Harry ooked resolutely away from it.

Wrapping his arms around himself and cradling his injured wrist, he walked. His bare feet stung from running unprotected on pavement and his wrist sent sparks into his vision. Up ahead, standing on a corner, were two young men. Their dress reminded Harry of the rap music videos on television that Dudley used to watch. He approached them warily, but for the moment, and other than the shifty looking guy speaking nonsense to himself while he dug through a dumpster, they were the only people around who weren’t driving, eyes forward, don’t make eye contact.

"Excuse me, but could either of you tell me where the authorities are located?"

The taller of the two, a white boy that looked to be in his mid twenties, laughed outright. The other, a short and slim black boy who was about the same age, lightly hit the other boy. "Look at this shit! What you doing playin' in this neighborhood, junior. Shouldn't you be in some prep school?"

"Please," Harry pleaded, holding his injured arm closer to his body. Emotions were catching up to him and he felt his eyes well with tears. Why did these things always happen to him?

The white boy adjusted his baseball cap and flipped up the hood of his white zipper hoodie. "Please, sir, I want some more!" he mocked.

The other boy laughed. "Come on, dawg, let's blow this shit." He lit a cigarette and the two began to walk away.

"No! Please! I need help!" They stopped and turned to face him, watching silently as the tears in Harry's eyes spilled over and slid down his cheeks.

"Shit, son, what the hell happened to you?" asked the tall boy.

"I was taken; by some man...I just...I got away. Please, just tell me where a police station is, anything!"

"Three blocks up, two to your right." The other one said.

Harry nodded and turned to walk in the direction he was pointed to. "Wait." He turned to face the two boys. The white one pulled his hood down, "We'll...we'll walk you." The other nodded. "We didn't know you were kidnapped, son."

Harry shrugged and began walking; the two boys flanked on either side of him. "I'm Lonnie," the black boy said, "and this is my best friend Paul."

"Harry." was the only answered they received.

The two shared a glance over his head. "Where you from?" Paul asked.

"England." Harry paused, "Where am I?"

"You in Queens, son."

"Where?"

Lonnie bit his lip, "New York?"

"Oh, yeah. He took me from a lake in Cooperstown."

Both boys stopped and gawked, "Cooperstown, that's upstate!" Harry shook his head, not quite understanding. "We downstate, Junior, Cooperstown's like 4 hours away from here."

"Oh."

"Damn, Son. When'd he take you?" Paul asked.

"Today."

"So he didn't, you know, do anything?"

Harry shrugged and gestured to his wrist. "He did this when I was trying to escape."

"Could be a lot worse, junior," Lonnie said, "I seen it happen. You one lucky kid, junior, and you don't even know."

By the time they reached the police station, Harry was shivering from exhaustion, pain, and the still slightly damp bathing suit. The sun had long since set and night air was cool. Paul removed his hoodie and draped it around Harry's shoulders, zipping up the front over his arms. They entered the station and Lonnie spoke in hushed tones to the woman behind the front desk while Paul stood with Harry by the entrance. The woman nodded, made a call, and moved from behind the desk. Lonnie rejoined Harry and Paul.

"This where we leave, junior. Hope you okay."

"Thank you," Harry said in a quiet voice, he moved to take off the hoodie.

"Keep it," Paul said, "I have more."

Lonnie gave him a small but genuine smile, “I hope you get home, dawg, hope you ‘ite.”

 "Thanks." Harry's voice was quiet with appreciation. He watched as the two friends left the building and walked down the street, his two unlikely saviors that he would never see again.

"Harry?" the woman asked.

He jerked to face her, "You know my name?"

"The young man told me, come on, come here, have a seat, sweetie. Are you okay?"

"My wrist. I think it's broken." Using his right hand, he unzipped the hoodie to show her. It was swollen and crooked.

"Looks like it," she said. "My name is Officer Hannah Douglas, okay? My sergeant is coming out to speak with you, all right?" Harry nodded. "For now, let's get that in a splint and we'll get you to a hospital as soon as possible, okay?" She waited for his consent before doing anything and he appreciated it more than she could ever know.

 Briefly, Harry wondered if she would know where the American version of the Ministry of Magic was, but he doubted it. He nodded again and she led him into a back room that served as both break room and as an area to treat injuries of those who come into the station. It was an odd mix, bandages and gauze next to a microwave and bottles of painkillers and antiseptic lined up next to the coffee creamers. Very carefully, she placed his wrist into a splint and was about to call for an escort to take the boy to the hospital when an officer walked in.

"I'll take care of it, Douglas."

"Sergeant McDermott, this is Harry." Officer Douglas said. She smiled reassuringly to Harry and left the room. Harry looked up from his seat on an old brown leather couch and judged the man wearily. He was about 6 feet tall with short blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a friendly smile.

"Can ya tell me what happened, Harry? I'll drive you over to the hospital as we speak, is that okay? You need to have your wrist better looked at." Sergeant McDermott spoke in a soft voice, but he accentuated his vowels in an accent that spoke of being raised in Brooklyn, though Harry didn’t know that. He only recognized the inflection from the small snippets of movies he had seen.

"He took me...from the lake...I..." Looking up at the man, Harry weighed his options. He'd much rather a mediwitch heal his wrist with magic then go through the more painful and elongated process of muggle healing. But how did he go about telling the cop this? Better yet, how did he tell the man that he was apparated here? This wasn't a muggle kidnapping by any means, but at the time of his escape, it just seemed the rational thing to look for the muggle authorities since he did not know how to go about asking for the wizard ones. "I don't want to go to the hospital, Sir, please."

"Harry, you gotta have that wrist seen to."

"I just want to get back with my friends and my professor."

McDermott thought for a moment. "Are you in America for vacation?" he asked, taking the hint from Harry's own accent.

"Yes, Sir."

"With your professor?"

Harry squirmed in his seat, realizing the awkward position he had put himself in. He didn't want to give too much information to the man if he was ignorant to the existence of wizards; he didn't want him asking too many questions that Harry couldn't answer. So, instead, Harry chose his words carefully and explained of the road trip he, Ron, and Hermione had taken and how their car had broken down. He explained that his teacher had happened upon Harry walking and had taken them in for the moment. "He took me up to the lake today and while I was in the water he was napping on the shore. And this man was drunk and he...well I had come out of the water because the lifeguards had said that they were off duty and we had to swim at our own risk and I wanted to ask my professor if that was all right when he grabbed me and took me."

Sgt. McDermott nodded, "How did he take you in broad daylight? Was he armed?"

"Well, he..." Harry paused and looked down, how on earth was he going to explain this? "I...I don't know."

"Were you unconscious?"

"Not exactly, no."

"Harry, you can tell me, it's all right."

But Harry couldn't tell him, he knew that. If he even insinuated magic being used the sergeant would definitely think him insane and most likely making the whole kidnapping up.

"How did you escape?" Sgt. McDermott asked, obviously sensing his unease and changing the subject.

"I kicked him and ran..." Harry answered, carefully omitting. "And then when I was close to the front doors, he caught up with me and grabbed me and twisted my wrist. He pulled me against him but I bit him. And then I ran again. And I didn't stop until I saw Lonnie and Paul."

"The two youths who brought you in?"

"Yeah."

"Do ya know them, before all this? Did ya know them?"

"No, Sir."

The Sergeant nodded and stood while he pulled out his wallet. He plucked two dollar bills from the leather case and handed them to Harry. "There's a soda machine down the hall, help yourself. I'm gonna put out an APB to look for any suspicious behavior, all right? Then we'll get ya to the hospital."

Harry nodded and held onto the dollars tightly. He waited until McDermott had left the room to stand and make his way down the hallway to the vending machines. Selecting a Cherry Coca-Cola, he paid and retrieved the bottle. It was while he walking back that the pain in his sore feet flared up and he hobbled and lost his balance, falling against the wall. The stolen wand slipped from his waistband and clattered on the floor.

"Harry?" the sergeant stepped into the hallway. Harry was scrambling to pick up the wand and conceal it, but the man had already seen it. "You're one of them." Hastily tucking the offending object away, the young Wizard did his best to look like he had no idea what the cop was talking about. McDermott bent down and picked up the fallen Coke bottle. "Come on, back in the break room, there ya go. Have a seat; I didn't realize your feet were so bad."

Clutching the bottle after it was given back to him, Harry remained quiet. He sat on the couch and waited.

"The man who took you," McDermott said, "was he a wizard also?" Harry swallowed and nodded. "Christ, that makes it harder to find him. Though, I'm sure, I mean, I guess that your version of cops is better prepared to find someone like him. Is that how he took you then? That's why you were afraid to tell me?" Again, Harry nodded. "Okay, well in that case, I'm not taking ya to the hospital. Wizards have their own ways of healing, right?"

"Yeah, but...How do you know about us, Sir?"

"We had a bit of a problem, few years back, with bad wizards in the area. I became caught up in things and it was decided that my knowing, as a sergeant, and my captain's knowing also, was what was best for our area, so that we could adequately deal with situations that manifested in our precinct."

"So, what are you going to do with me?"

He smiled, "I'm gonna take you into the City to the ACM and there they'll fix up your wrist and take you back to your professor."

"The ACM?"

"The American Congress of Magic. What's it called in England, which is where I'm assuming you're from?"

"It is. And it's the Ministry of Magic there." Harry held out the wand, "It's his. I took it from him."

McDermott grabbed an empty garbage bag from a cabinet and held it open; Harry dropped the wand into it. Tying the bag closed, he said, "Come on; let's get you to the City."

"What city, sir?"

"Manhattan, Harry, we all just call it ‘the City,' not sure how that came about though." He smiled and led Harry outside to a white Ford Explorer with ‘NYPD' printed on its sides. "Hopefully they'll have some socks or something for your feet. They're not bleeding at least, just bruised." He opened the passenger side door and helped the teen in.

Harry had his first view of the beautiful NYC skyline that night. He stared, in awe, at the buildings and the lights as the sergeant pointed out various landmarks.

"That's the Empire State Building," he said and Harry gawked even more so. He had seen glimpses of the famous city on the television when the Dursley's actually let him watch it, but that was nothing compared to the real thing. The buildings and the lights stretched across the horizon like a painted dream. As they drew closer, and the city grew clearer, he felt his breath catch in his throat. It was absolutely breathtakingly beautiful. Like the first time Harry had seen Hogwarts, he knew that this was something special. Something to be treasured and remembered for the rest of his life, however long that would be. He had never seen anything quite like this.

Harry jolted when they entered a tunnel. "Whoa..." Rolling down his window, he looked out at the beige tiles flying past him and up at the lights that lined the walls.

"We're under the East River now."

"Wicked!" For the moment Harry had forgotten about the ordeal he had just went through, he thought only of The Big Apple and it's lights and tunnels and how badly he wanted to explore the city he'd only seen in movies. He could smell the tunnel’s distinct gasoline smell; hear the amplified sounds of the engines, and the sporadic honking. It was strangely gorgeous, this man made tunnel. It was old and dirty, but something about the fact that countless cars had made their way through it, each with their own story, their own destination, well, that made it special.

McDermott looked over at the teen next to him, happily noting that if he was allowing himself to smile now, then it was evident that not too much damage had been done by the man who abducted him. He would be just fine and the sergeant, from years of experience, knew it.

As they entered Midtown Manhattan, Harry continued to gape like a tourist. With every street they turned onto and every store, street performer, and crowd of rushing city goers they passed, the young wizard's mood rose. He was safe and in probably the coolest place in the world--at least he thought for the time being. He tried to read each sign they passed, try to memorize every face. The juxtaposition of the trees against the cement, the streets dotted with stores and coffee shops, a woman walking eight dogs, a man singing, all of it.

When they pulled up in front of the ACM, Harry was happily shocked to see that the building held some of the beautiful old architecture that many of the buildings in the city held. That and it was obviously not as hidden as the Ministry was. Or perhaps it had charms on it that made the bronze sign above the door stating ‘American Congress of Magic' invisible to muggles. Regardless, he admired the aging but still striking white columns, they grey slated steps, and the carful gardening that framed the entrance.

Stepping down from the SUV, Harry continued to take in his surroundings as the sergeant spoke to an auror standing on guard outside the door. He handed him the bag with the wand in it and nodded over to Harry whose neck was craned as he looked to the top of the buildings.

"Mr. Potter? I'm Auror Daniel Smith, please come with me." Harry was startled for a brief moment when the wizard spoke. He hadn't noticed when he was approached. And he hadn’t told the muggle sergeant his last name, but then again, he was no longer with muggles. Of course they knew who he was.

"Okay," Harry said and waved good-bye the sergeant, once again saying farewell to a stranger who helped him but he would never see again, and followed the auror inside.

He was questioned while a mediwitch fixed his wrist and fed him potions, given thick woolen socks for his feet, and sent into a lounge to wait for his professor with a snack of treacle tarts and pumpkin juice. They knew of him, had been alerted to what had happened, and swore to him that no one would ever know that the famous teen was ever even there.

In the room they had sent him to, the furthest wall was all glass, a window that overlooked the busy street below. Harry sat on the red couch that was backed against the window, propped his head up with his right arm, and stared out into the night, content to lose himself in the bright lights.

When the door again opened, about 45 minutes later, Harry had expected to see another auror, but what he saw instead was his professor, looking worn, tired, and relieved.

"Severus!"

It was uncharacteristic. It was something he would never have thought himself to do. It was an action that he would later deny, but at the moment, he couldn't care less. Stalking forward, Snape pulled Harry close and hugged him, feeling far too emotional to trust his voice.

Harry was alive and untouched. He had escaped the pervert with a broken wrist that was easily mended and there was no accusation in those green eyes of his.

"Thank Merlin you're all right!"

The young wizard reveled in the embrace, enjoying and cherishing the safe feeling that was emitted into his very being. Severus would protect him; he knew that. Severus would make sure that the feeling he felt upon coming to the ACM and having someone come to claim him would not go away.

And for a fleeting moment, Harry wondered when exactly he had become Severus and not Snape. But it was gone as soon as it came. Because at the end of things, it really didn't matter.

"Harry!"

Enveloped by his friends, Harry felt a surge of warmth. He breathed in the scent of his two best friends, appreciating them more than he ever had before. That very moment would be a comfort to him for years to come. In the dark times when he would still be fighting Voldermort and all hope seemed lost, he would think of this moment: his friends, their embrace, their scent, and the sound of their voices and feel a rush of light invigorate his spirit.

Severus, his voice quiet, urged the two away, "Harry has had a very tiring day. It would be best for him to go to bed and have a decent night's rest."

Hermione nodded and stepped back from her friend as she wiped tears from her eyes. "I'm just so glad that you're okay..." She sniffled and smiled, "Go to sleep...And don't you ever try that again!"

Ron, overwhelmed by the experience as well, nodded in agreement, "Seriously, mate..." This was unlike anything they had yet faced; they couldn’t help him here. He was completely on his own and that scared the two Gryffindors more than they would ever want to admit.

Unable to help it, Harry hugged them again, "I'm fine, guys." Giving them a reassuring smile, he stepped back and allowed Severus to steer him toward the stairs and to the guest room. The professor's hand shook slightly on Harry's shoulder as the older man led him. And though the young wizard took notice, he said nothing.

Once he was in pajamas and neatly tucked in, Harry laid awake a long while. His thoughts circled like a bird looking for a place to land. Lonnie had said things could have been so much worse, but Harry did not want to think of just how much shoddier they could have been. Just the thought of that man touching him that way made his stomach feel uneasy.

Rolling over, he shut his eyes tightly, willing the images away, and  thought of Manhattan: the beautiful skyline, the rush of the streets, the sound of the traffic mingled with voices and music, and the feeling that he was nowhere and everywhere at once.

It calmed him; he found the thoughts of the afternoon fall away and leave. He imagined himself walking the streets of the city, anonymous and unknown. Just a young man going wherever he was going. No one would gape at his scar and no one would badger him about his whereabouts. These streets were too busy for anyone to attempt to take him and even though the threat was still very real, it seemed that in New York City there was no hazard of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Sometime later, he felt Ron slide into bed carefully, as he believed his friend to be asleep. Harry rolled over to face him.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't." Harry said simply.

"You okay?" Ron asked quietly, his worry showing like the freckles on his face did.

Harry nodded, "Just thinking."

"About that man?"

He shook his head, "No, about The City--Manhattan. It's just like the movies."

"It is?"

Harry giggled softly, "Muggle thing. But it's amazing, Ron. I want to go back. I've never seen anything like it. Ever. It's so busy and noisy. It's like Muggles don't notice Wizards and Wizards don't notice Muggles. It's fantastic."

"Mum says it's dangerous. But she's never been there, only read about it."

Shrugging, he said, "I don't know if it is or isn't, but when I was there I felt safe, you know? Like no one could touch me. That guy didn't exist as soon as I entered it. It was like the whole thing was just a bad dream."

Ron was quiet for a long moment. "I was so scared today. For you."

"I'm sorry..."

"It's not your fault, Harry. I'm just glad that you're all right."

Smiling softly, Harry said, "It's always an adventure, huh?"

"Life would be boring if it wasn't."

Harry snorted, "Our lives are far from boring."

"Trying to sleep here!" Harry and Ron looked over to see Hermione sitting up, her arms crossed and the blankets snug around her crossed legs, but she didn't look mad. The two boys smiled and settled down, Harry finally falling into a deep sleep moments later.

Across the hall, in room he shared with Baylor, Severus laid awake staring at the ceiling while Baylor snored in the bed next to his. He would receive no sleep that night. His guilty conscience was once again keeping him up as he thought of Lizzie, Lily, and Harry and of how he failed all of them.

Hours later, as dawn creased over the Catskills, Severus turned and rolled to his side, watching as light seeped into the room from behind the venetian blinds. Outside the fog was beginning to lift from the mountains and the greenery was slowly coming alive with the sounds of birds and the steady steps of deer as they walked along the fields beside the house, grazing.

And in the small town of Middleburg, a middle aged witch by the name of Elizabeth Grace was receiving a letter from her old friend from school whose owl was tapping ceaselessly at her window.

Come to Georgie's on the 4th of July. We all miss you. Including a snarky bastard. I'll give you a hint as to who it is. His first name starts with an S and ends with an Everus. -Lucy

The morning of July 4th dawned hot and humid and when Harry awoke, he found the blankets in a pile on the floor by the side of the bed and Ron asleep and panting next to him. Sitting up, he wiped sweat from his forehead and glanced over at Hermione. The young witch was on her back lying with her limbs spread and her hair damp with sweat.

The windows in the room were wide open and the ceiling fan on high. Harry groaned, why wasn't the air conditioner on? Standing, he briefly wondered why Georgie didn't use magic to cool his house. Of course, Georgie was the most unconventional wizard he had ever met and seemed dead set on combining muggle technology with magic, but that didn't excuse the heat!

Stretching, Harry prodded Ron but the redhead would not wake. He stood and padded over to Hermione. "Hey, ‘Mione? You awake?"

"No. Go'way..."

Harry chuckled, "Come on, get up and keep me company. Ron is dead to the world."

The young witch groaned and sat up. "I hate you right now. I really do."

"No, you don't."

"Make it up to me."

"How?"

"Let me have the shower first." The girl grinned and grabbed her shower stuff. With a wink and a wave she set off down the hallway while Harry tried once again in vain to wake Ron.

By 11 o'clock, the trio was up, showered and dressed and outside helping to set up the backyard for the barbecue. Hermione, used to setting up parties without magic was helping to tape red, white, and blue plastic tablecloths to the picnic tables around the yard. Yet, with every gust of wind, the tape failed and the cloths would fly up across the tables. Frustrated, Lucy began to magic them in place, whispering to Hermione not to tell Georgie.

Harry and Severus were given the job of decorating and Ron was handed patriotic confetti to sprinkle on the tables. It wasn’t the best job for him as he didn’t really know what to do and it just made sense to the young wizard to grab fistfuls of the confetti tossed them into the center. Even so, Georgie didn’t say a single word when he came to inspect Ron’s work and seemed satisfied enough that at least most of it ended u o the tables and not the ground.

Severus, however, was struggling with a fountain streamer; he was attempting to hang it from the top of the large green tent he and Baylor had put up the day before but couldn’t quite tie the knot right enough to get into to stay in place. Harry was holding the ladder steady as his professor grunted and dropped the string he was using to tie it for what was most likely the twentieth or so time. .

Reaching down to retrieve the white thread, Harry said, "Sir, why don't you use magic to put it up?"

The professor took the string outstretched to him, "Because Georgie values labor. Magic tends to make life very easy and Georgie is very much correct in not allowing things to be overrun by it. This way, we appreciate it more."

"Like the air conditioner?"

"Exactly, Georgie uses muggle electricity because that was how he was raised. He prefers it out of habit and thinks that we, as magical people, are spoiled by the comforts we can obtain. Sure, we could use a cooling charm but then we would never feel heat. Sometimes one must do without in order to appreciate what one has."

Harry nodded, "I guess I see his point. But why does he make you not use magic?"

"Because crossing Georgie is something I'd rather not do." Severus sighed when he finally was able to hang the streamer up. He stepped down the ladder and folded it up with an irritated snap, "I'm not even American and look at me!" He gestured to his shirt. Lucy, Baylor, and Jena had somehow convinced Severus to wear a black tee shirt with the American flag on it. To add insult to injury, Lucy had pinned a blinking flag pin to the shirt as well. It flickered annoyingly but every time Severus would try to remove it his hand was slapped.

Harry laughed quietly. He, Ron, and Hermione had gracefully accepted the shirts given to them. Ron's was blue with an eagle on it, Hermione had a white tank with red, white, and blue stars, and Harry wore a red shirt with fireworks. "If you can't beat them, Professor, join them. Isn't that the saying?"

"Bloody revolution," Severus mumbled as he stalked away with the ladder.

Lucy stepped up beside Harry and watched as Severus walked away. "Spoil sport!" She quipped. "The revolution was ages ago. You'd think he'd get over it by now. But NO! Can't insult the queen! Or ministry, or...I don't know a damn thing about British Magical Government. ‘Course, I always skipped that class. So that could be why."

Chuckling, Harry turned to help Georgie, who was dragging the barbecue past him and under a small white tent. The events of the day before had all but faded from his mind, a small blip, a bad dream, something he could easily move on from simply because he knew he was stronger than what happened. Of course, he would probably be weary of public beaches for a while. Some things could not be helped.

In just about two hours, the backyard was set. Coolers lined the walls: a long white one for beer, a smaller red one for soda, a blue one for juice and water, and another red one holding the frozen burgers, steaks, hotdogs, and other items to be cooked. Set in front of the coolers was a table filled with napkins, plates, forks, knives, and spoons; next to them was red solo cups and a mini-cooler filled with ice. Georgie had bought two kegs and seated them in round red tubs sporting on one the emblem of the local Quidditch team and on the other the Yankees symbol. They were packed with ice around the metal kegs and labeled ‘Bud Light' and ‘Bud.'

Georgie had hooked up a muggle radio so he could listen to the muggle sport of baseball (Yankees versus the Red Sox.), and a Wizard Wireless to listen the Quidditch game (the New York Bombers versus the Ohio Broomsticks.).

Severus had helped Lucy hook up speakers so they could play their rock music as obnoxiously loud as they could and Harry snuck a few of his new CDs into the mix. Lucy saw, but said nothng, she just winked and put on Areosmith. Of course, Baylor constantly warned them about how not all wizards worshipped Guns ‘N Roses and they better put on some good shit as well. "And if you think about putting on that wizard wannabe rock crap, I swear to God I'll break that fucking radio! There's ONE thing that muggles do better than wizards and THAT'S MUSIC!" Lucy just lifted her sunglasses, rolled her eyes at Baylor, and went back to what she was doing.

It was nearing four when the first guests arrived. The trio sat at one of the red wooden picnic tables further down the lawn and ate chips as they watched the yard fill up with witches and wizards. Now and then Severus would lead someone over to introduce them, but usually, it seemed, he couldn't be bothered. He was too busy sipping a bottled Bud and making fun of Georgie's apron and chef's hat as the older wizard barbecued.

The first group of kids to arrive were Baylor's. Gina and Michelle were 14 and 16 respectively and in an instant, Harry knew he had found love in Michelle's dark hair and beautiful brown eyes. Then she opened her mouth and the feeling vanished.

"You know, I was SUPPOSED to be at the MALL with RICHARD and not HERE in the middle of bumfuck New York at some lame ass barbecue." With a huff, she sat across from Harry and Hermione and next to Ron. The red head inched away from her and Hermione rolled her eyes. "I know RIGHT?!" Michelle exclaimed, thinking Hermione's action was one of agreeing with her own. Hermione's eyes went wide but, thankfully, she kept her mouth shut.

Gina, on the other hand, was awkwardly pretty with mousey brown hair and grey eyes. She had a nose too small for her face but full lips, a brilliant smile, and a much better personality than her sister.

She extended her hand, "I'm Gina." The trio each took her hand and introduced themselves. "And this," she jerked her thumb toward her sister, "is Michelle. Dad is out to get her and Richard is her snot nosed idiot boyfriend."

"Ew! Shut up!" Michelle yelled, stood, and stormed off toward her father. "DA-AH-AD! Gina is RUINING EVERYTHING!"

"Is she always like that?" Harry asked.

"Uh-uh."

"My apologies."

"Thanks."

There was a screech across the lawn. "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WOULD DO THIS TO ME, DAD! YOU'RE RUINING MY LIFE!" With another screech, Michelle covered her face and took off into the house crying.

"I have this theory," Gina started, "That she's actually a dragon that was transfigured into a human. And that's why her temper is so bad. Either that or the PMS potion backfired again."

"Or someone stole her egg." Harry said, remembering his fourth year.

"What?"

"Nesting mother dragons, they're pretty vicious." He quipped.

"OH! That explains EVERYTHING! She had to have been switched at birth!"

Ron cracked up, "Was that Michelle's golden egg, Harry?"

"Must have been. Can't believe she's still pissed about that!"

"What are you guys talking about?!" Gina asked with a confused laugh.

"Nothing, nothing." Harry said, "But I think I know what type of dragon your sister is."

"And what would that be?"

Ron grinned and retorted with a smirk, "A Hungarian Horntail."

Gina laughed loudly, "Well, there's your problem!"

As the sun set, muggle fireworks were brought out in large crates. Severus lit a bottle rocket and grinned as it took off. "Best part? These are completely illegal in New York." He lit another with the burning end of his cigarette. It took off out the empty beer bottle he was using to launch it and whistled into the sky. Turning to Harry, Severus held the bottle out. "Want to try?"

"Is that even a question?!" Jumping up from the lawn chair he was seated in, Harry stood at Severus' side and took the bottle.

"Okay, so what you need to do is slip the bottle rocket in like this, and light this end, here," he reached into his pocket and pulled out his pack of Marlboro Reds and lit one using his already burning cigarette. Handing it to Harry, he warned, "Don't smoke it or I swear to God I'll make life miserable at Hogwarts next year. Just use it to light the fireworks. Place it up by the...Right good. Now hold your arm out and shake the bottle gently. Up Harry! Raise your arm up!" Severus laughed, "You're going to set the damn house on fire!"

Harry blushed and raised his arm, pointing the bottle upwards; he had never set off fireworks before. Lightly, he shook the bottle and the loud whistle of the firecracker shot out and sailed into the air. Harry laughed happily.

"Want to try another?" At Harry's nod, he put five bottle rockets into the bottle. "Light then all together, hold your arm up and keep shaking."

Across the yard, Ron and Hermione watched as rocket after rocket took flight into the air from the bottle. Harry looked so happy, happier than they had ever seen him. Severus took out another type firework and showed Harry how to light it; he threw it several yards from them and laughed when Harry jumped as the explosive bangs sounded.

Harry was elated. He smiled up at the man he had once sworn to hate. No longer did he see the greasy bat of the dungeons. Instead, in its place, was the James Dean of professors: Severus Snape, cool and casual in Levis and boots, pockets jiggling with spare muggle change and Marlboros, his hair tied back and arms filled with tattoos.

Hermione tilted her head as she watched her friend; the way Harry was looking at Severus was the way she and Ron looked at their own fathers.

It was nearing nine when Georgie fired up the barbecue again. On it went the marinated chicken breasts, steaks, and tinfoil wrapped corn. The trio licked their lips at the smells and waited expectantly for the food even though they had only eaten dinner a few hours before. But cheeseburgers and Lucy famous macaroni salad couldn't compete--no matter how delicious Lucy's salad was--with steaks and barbecued corn on the cob.

Gina had proven herself to be a fun companion, as she, the trio and two other teens named Corey and Jay bonded while swimming and poking fun at Michelle and the other children who were too snotty to ruin their hair by swimming in the pool.

While Georgie cooked, the group sat on towels just outside the pool, drying off in the heat and talking nonsense about music, magic, and school. Neither Jay nor Corey made a big deal about Harry's scar and Gina had already shown herself to not be an avid follower of Harry Potter. Harry was able to relax around them.

"Is that who I think it is?"

Harry looked up to see what had drawn Corey’s attention from their current conversation about what was better: wizard rock music or muggle rock music, to see a beautiful witch walk further into the yard. Her dark hair was long and swayed as she walked.

"Who is that?" Ron asked.

"That the woman in the picture!" Hermione's voiced was hushed and rushed, "I think she dated Professor Snape!" Harry's mouth dropped.

"They didn't just date, they were practically engaged. They broke up after The Hogwarts headmaster offered Uncle Sev a position, they tried for a few years, I think my mom said, but it just didn’t work, the whole long distance thing." Jay interjected. "He pretty much broke her heart."

"Oh come off it, Jay, it was mutual. Sev was devastated as well. Mom said he moped around for months." Gina said. "I wonder why she's here."

"I'll give you two guesses," Corey pointed his finger at Lucy and Jena, both looking smug and proud of themselves.

"Meddlers!" Hermione gasped, "The professor hates meddlers!"

"Well, that's Luce and Jena's full time job. Crap, Severus hasn't seen her yet."

Gina snorted, "Georgie has. He's letting the chicken burn! Georgie!" She stood and ran over to him, set on saving the food and not too concerned with the fact that she had just brought attention to that part of the yard.

Severus looked amused for a half a second as he watched Gina try to salvage the food, then he caught sight of Lizzie Grace, flawless in jeans and black heels, her black shirt tight and showing curves, and her trademark silver hoops swinging with the hair Severus himself always found hard to resist touching. His breath caught in his throat. Even after all these years, she still made him feel like he was an incompetent schoolboy. He was frozen to his spot, standing in awe that she was actually there.

She shifted her gaze through the yard, purposefully, searching for something in particular. Her eyes stopped on Severus. And there it was.

With a stride that was always sure, confident, and sexy as hell and always melted Severus to a pile of Slytherin mush, she stalked forward. Effortlessly navigating the grass in her heels like it was the most natural thing to do. She looked at him and only him when she walked right passed the trio who sat with mouth hanging open and passed the two meddlers who looked more than slightly proud of themselves.

When she stopped in front of Severus, she paused only briefly before slapping him clear across the face. Hermione jolted and Lucy cursed under her breath. It was short lived though; as soon as she slapped him, she had raised her hand to hit him again but Severus grabbed her arm, pulled her close, and kissed her. The arm fell around his neck.

Only the whopping from the backyard brought them apart, it was only a startled second however, as Lizzie grabbed him and kissed him again. Simultaneously, they both flipped off the rest of the guests. Even the laughter couldn't tear them apart this time.

Baylor and Severus handled the bigger fireworks with much more caution than bottle rockets. And though they sipped beer in-between lights, they made sure that the house and ground around them were hosed down and kept their cigarettes a safe distance from the firecrackers. Even with Lizzie wrapped around his waist, Severus made sure not to be distracted. Color lit up the sky with bright explosions and the teens--the trio, Baylor's daughters, Jay, Corey, and the other kids--laughed and applauded from blankets laid on the ground and in ancient lawn chairs. They ate ice cream and mud pie as well as strawberries and blueberries doused in whipped cream and firecracker ice pops. They sipped root beer from old-fashioned glass bottles and when their fill was had, they lay black on the soft blankets to watch the rest of Severus and Baylor's impromptu firework display.

The finale went off loudly and the color splashed across Harry's face in bursts of light as he watched the beautiful explosions envelop the sky. The glow reflected off his glasses and the scent of burnt gun power lingered in his nose. The night was perfect.

As a huge red firework exploded above them, Harry shyly blushed and looked away. The firework illuminated Lizzie and Severus as they kissed under the glow. Harry caught the eyes of his best friends and snickered, who would ever have thought it?

When the final firework began to fade, the entire backyard broke out in cheers. Harry whooped and clapped loudly, laughing and still wiping dessert from the corners of his mouth. When Severus plopped down on the blanket next to him with his own ice pop, Harry poked fun at the drippings of sweets running down his professor's chin and onto the absurd blinking ornament, which, at some point, stopped blinking. He had finally detached himself Lizzie and she now stood talking with Lucy and Jena, laughing and hitting their arms as they exclaimed, wildly, how happy they were that she was back.

"Hey, Sev, show the kid some sparklers and morning glories, won't ya?" Georgie called out and walked over. He handed Severus two boxes and a lighter. Severus licked up the rest of his ice pop and stood. Hermione was already showing Ron how to work the sparklers and the redhead was writing his name in the air with it.

Severus lit a sparkler and handed it to Harry. "Move it through the air." Harry stared at the sparkling stick and moved it quickly; laughing out right at the laser like streak it left only briefly. When the sparkler burnt out, Severus lit another. Harry took it with confidence and spun around, all the while watching the light trail after his hand. He spun faster and faster, growing dizzy with joy. It was like muggle magic. He had never seen anything quite like it.

The sparkler smoldered and went out but he kept spinning, high on his happiness. When he stopped, he stumbled, but Severus caught the small body and lifted him over his shoulder. "Special delivery!" he cracked as he marched toward the pool.

"Don't you dare! Severus!" Shrieking, Harry was dumped into the water, clothes and all. He held onto his glasses, making sure he didn't lose them and held in his breath. When he surfaced, he heard the deep and rich laughter of Severus. "You suck!"

But his professor only grinned and took a half step back, poised himself, and lunged into the pool. "Cannon ball!" He barely had time to surface before Lucy was kicking off her flip-flops and jumping into the pool in her clothes as well.

There was a battle cry, a loud ‘AY AY AY AYYYY!' as Lizzie ran and dove on top of Severus.

Harry laughed and ducked when Baylor joined in and jumped over him, splashing and tossing Gina, who had jumped after him, over his shoulder. Harry yelled out excitedly as half the backyard, including Hermione and Ron, all dived into the pool in their clothes.

The underwater lights in the in-ground pool shimmied with the moving water; briefly dimming out when someone swam passed them. The lit tiki lamps wavered and the smell of citronella mingled with the scent of chorine. Looking around, Harry watched quietly; he was enjoying the moment. Steam lifted from the heated water and swirled up and around him.

Someone swam behind him, grabbed him, and lifted him in the air. He only saw Severus briefly before he had to suck in his breath and hold his nose and glasses before he was tossed in the air. Moments after he surfaced, Hermione landed next to him. She shrieked and flailed as she sailed into the water and Harry wasted no time in pouncing on her. Without hesitation, Ron lunged and tackled Harry. They splashed loudly at each other, leaning back to kick their feet to make bigger splashes.

The rest of the night blurred together as Harry swam until he was too tired to even lift himself from the pool. The other children had long since disappeared inside. Wrapped in towels that Severus placed a heating charm on, the trio dried themselves as quickly as they could, shedding their wet jeans and covering themselves with towels. Their giggles were tired but enthusiastic and when they were finally ushered inside, they found Gina, Michelle, and the other kids snuggled up in sleeping bags in the living room.

In dry clothes, they lay under the top sheet only, the three best friends, snuggled in one bed, listening to the adults talk and the fire pit crack through the window. In the distance, they sometimes heard more fireworks going off and the occasional burst of laughter from the patio.

All too soon though, the voices dimmed, and smelling faintly of chlorine, they drifted off one by one, smiles still playing on their lips.

A knock sounded on the door early in the morning, rousing the occupants of the house. Harry, refreshed from such a deep swim induced sleep, crept out of the bedroom and peered over the banister into the living room and front hall. Baylor, surprisingly, was sleeping on the couch. That meant Severus was in his room alone and...Oh. Harry snickered; Lizzie was in there too. He was about the answer the door himself after the visitor knocked again, louder. But Georgie jogged passed him and down the steps. Harry moved so he could obtain a better view of the door. He was partially hidden by a rather large plant, but the position offered him the best view, still though, he could not clearly see all he wanted.

Georgie opened the door, "Hello?"

"I am looking for Severus Snape."

Harry instantly recognized the voice that belonged to the man hidden from his sight by Georgie's broad body. He felt the blood run from his face. His heart dropped.

Georgie, obviously, had no clue who he was. "And you would be who? Certainly not the President. It's 7 in the morning, come back later."

"I know he is here and my business is urgent. You will send for him immediately."

"No. This is my house, I'll wake my guest when I see fit!" Georgie sternly said.

"Out of my way old man, or there will be consequences."

"You can put your wand away, there is no business shoving that thing in my face!"

Ron crept up next to Harry and whispered, "Who is it?" Harry turned a white face toward his friend. "Harry? Mate, you okay?"

The voice at the door grew loud and angry, "You will tell Severus that I am here right this instant. Do not make me use this!"

Georgie brought his shoulders up, "And whom should I say is calling?"

There was a pause and then the deep and silky voice replied, "Lucius Malfoy.

Georgie knew the name - oh, he knew the name all right! - and it took all his willpower not to punch the bigoted asshole right in the nose; that would show him to treat his Sevvy badly! But Georgie also knew what was at stake, not only Severus' life but the others' as well. Especially the life of a young teen Georgie had become so very fond of, a young teen that was currently hiding at the top of the stairs. Knowing this, the old man kept Lucius' vision blocked; he would not risk him seeing Harry.

"You can wait here." Stepping back, Georgie slammed the door in his face, it wasn't punching him, but it was something. He hurried up the stairs. "Harry, Ron..." He stopped in front of them, both pale and huddled together behind the plant. There was a spark of defiance in Harry's eyes, the boy was afraid but willing to fight if it came down to it. Georgie knew, however, that he wasn't ready. "Ron, go wake Hermione, don't leave the room and keep the door closed. Quiet as mice, got it?" Ron nodded and took off down the hall into their room, the door closing swiftly behind him. "Harry, I need you to go wake Sev, tell him what's going on, then, into your room with your friends. You...Hide. Even in the room, please. Closet, anything. " Harry nodded, frightened, he wasn't ready for this. "I'm gonna get my wand from my bedroom and wake Baylor. We need to move the other kids..." With a reassuring squeeze to Harry's shoulder, Georgie left him to retrieve his wand.

Down the hall, Harry knocked on Severus' door as he was opening it, too nervous to remember just who was in there.

"Oh, bloody hell!" He turned around quickly, red to his ears, and stared at the door he had just closed. Severus was just waking up and suddenly glad the blankets covered at least half his body. As for Lizzie, the professor just hoped Harry had seen breasts before and that he wasn't responsible for stealing more of the kid's innocence.

"Usually, when one knocks, Mr. Potter, that denotes actually waiting for said door to be answered."

"I'm sorry, Sir." Harry said, his back still turned, "But, this is kinda important."

Lizzie, who had sat laughing the whole time, the top-sheet now up and tucked under her arms, said, "Something wrong? And you can turn around now. I'm covered."

Harry paused, but turned to face them. He took a deep breath. "Lucius Malfoy is here. Looking for you, Severus." His cheeks were still red but his expression was pained and worried. He stared somewhere over Severus' left shoulder.

The light atmosphere that the room held was gone in an instant.

"WHAT?!" The potions master jumped up, nearly pulling Lizzie off the bed when he took the blankets with him. "Turn around! Turn around!" Harry hastily turned around as Severus searched for, found, and pulled on his jeans from the previous day. "How the hell does he know where I am?! Bloody fucking hell! Christ almighty, this is bad, this is bad, bad, bad!!" He spun in a circle quickly, trying to figure if he needed anything else. "Son-of-a-bitch!"

If it were under different circumstances, Harry would have found his professor's uncharacteristic outburst hysterical, but for the moment, he couldn't agree more. "Potter, stay here with Lizzie. DON'T move. Where's your wand?"

"It's...it's in other room."

"Shit, okay, STAY." Hurrying from the room, he burst open Harry's bedroom door. "Harry's wand, give it here, hurry!" Moments later, he skidded into back into his own bedroom and thrust the wand into Harry's hand. He quickly pulled a shirt over his head. "I know you know how to defend yourself. If anything happens, you use it. Harry," he took the young teen's chin in his hand and forced the scared child to look at him, "Listen to me. Regardless of what may transpire, you need to protect yourself. You need to forget that foolish Gryffindor bravery for once. YOU are the most important aspect in this war. You. Not Ron, not Hermione, not me, Georgie, Lizzie, or anyone else. You. Do you understand?" Harry nodded. Stepping back, Severus surveyed the boy in front of him; he gave Harry a tight smile, kissed Lizzie quickly, and pocketed his own wand before stepping from the room and disappearing down the hall.

Lizzie, now dressed in one of Severus' shirts that fell to her knees, locked the door muggle style and with her wand, wizard wise as well. She turned to face Harry, "Are you okay?"

Harry shrugged, "What can I do?"

She nodded and sat on the bed. "I couldn't imagine being you."

Again, Harry shrugged, but he didn't want to even think about what was going on at the moment. The very thought that Lucius Malfoy knew where he was made him shake in fear.

Harry numbly played with his hands. He didn't dare look up at Lizzie. "I'm sorry I just barged in, I, um, I didn't see anything."

"Liar."

"Okay, maybe a little."

She laughed and pulled on her jeans, "You can rub it in Severus' face later."

"So what's the story between you two?"

Sitting next to him, Lizzie cocked her head to the side, "Is this you trying to not think about that creep that is currently at the door?"

"Maybe."

"And are you using me as a scapegoat so you have something else to think about?"

"Is it working?"

"Uh-huh. Severus and I met about 12 years ago. We were friends first, lovers second. We didn't actually become an item until years later. I think it was the summer after you started school, yeah, so 6 years ago? I don't know, my math is bad." She smiled and nudged him and reluctantly, Harry allowed himself to laugh.

"My fault then?"

"Mmhmm. He came back here over the summer, ranting and raving about how you almost got yourself killed and," here, she did her best Snape impersonation: a deep voice with a bite in it, "'the reckless fool! Parading about like his God-damned father - acting as if he's invincible! I have never, in all my years, encountered such a frustrating child. Ever!'"

Harry chuckled, "You sound just like him."

She smiled, "He bitched and moaned for almost an hour before completely breaking down about your mother and how he'd be damned if Lily's child was to be harmed in any way and how dare that child endanger his life. Now, I know all about your mother, Harry, every last detail. His heart always belonged to her," Harry's head snapped up, "and he was proclaiming his love for a women who was long gone and cursing her son for putting her memory in danger. ‘I loved her, Lizzie, and she has no memory left save that child and here he is, being an utter imbecile!'" The look of disbelief on Harry's face was astounding. "You didn't know? Harry, how can you not know?"

"All I know is what Georgie told me, that they were friends."

"Well, they were, but Christ almighty, kid, you mean to tell me you had no idea that Severus was head over heels in love with her?"

"Was I supposed to?"

Shaking her head, Lizzie continued, "Well, regardless, I had fallen in love with the grump and was so over him and his woe is me the love of my life is dead, yadda yadda spiel, I was just...done. He was punishing himself by not allowing anyone to love him. Well, I slapped him, kissed him, and told him that if he even dares to try and deny me as his girlfriend - I'd break his legs. He had such guilt for Lily, the dope thought he could only love one woman. What a schmuck! I told him straight up that I knew I could never replace her, but Jesus Christ he needed to realize that, as corny as it sounds, a heart is infinite. Drove me crazy, that man, still does!"

"So, why did you break up?"

"Let's save that story for later, we have bigger fish to fry. I hate to bring you back to reality, but a douche bag is downstairs and I may just have to open up a can of whoop-ass if he hurts one hair on my Sev's head." Harry wasn't positive, but he thought he heard her growl.

It was a half hour before Severus returned. As soon as Lizzie heard footsteps in the corridor, she hid Harry away in the closet behind some boxes. She had just closed the door when Severus unlocked the door and entered, looking worn and tired. Lizzie visibly relaxed and opened the closet, "It's Sev..."

The potions master sat on the bed and watched as Harry climbed out of the closet. Both he and Lizzie were looking at him expectantly, yet neither spoke a word.

It was Severus who broke the silence first. "He received information that Harry was currently in America and performed a tracking spell on me, knowing that this is where I come in summer. My own personal wards did well enough save that this town knows me through Georgie, a few muggles asked and he was directed to the outskirts of Delilah's Pass. From there, a few more questions and, of course, everyone knows Georgie." Severus paused and gave Harry a long look. "I don't know how you were found out to be in America. As far as my correspondences go, even Professor Dumbledore knows not where you are." Lizzie sat behind him and rubbed his shoulders. "He was sent to fetch me and we were to track you down. For the moment he believes that I will be meeting him at the overpass near Sydney in an hour."

"But, sir..."

Severus held his hand up to silence Harry, "I will not be. It was to get him out of the house. Albus is on his way to help Georgie finally put up the wards he should have had up long ago. But you will not be seeing the headmaster, Harry. You, I, and your friends are leaving at once. I am, after all, about to be found out as a spy." He smirked dangerously and Harry instinctively took a step back. It was the same face Severus had used in his classes right before he was about to take a dubious amount of points away from Gryffindor.

"You forgot one person in that equation, Sev-baby, and that's me."

Severus stood and turned abruptly to face Lizzie, "Absolutely not! Over my dead and rotting body!"

"Oh, come off it, Severus! I just got you back, there is no way in fiery hell am I about to let you walk away again!"

"I will not risk you!"

"I'm a big girl; I wipe my own ass and everything!"

Both Severus and Harry were taken aback by this comment, though the professor certainly hid it better, either that or he was used to Lizzie's brand of honesty. "Well," he quipped with an annoyed face, "I'm glad you're at least out of nappies."

"Fuck off, Snape, I'm coming. Deal with it. And anyway, you need me."

Severus sputtered, "What on earth are you getting on about, Woman!?"

"Who else is going to go ahead and make sure your house isn't surrounded by morons in masks?" Without waiting for an answer, Lizzie grabbed her wand, hastily magicked her belongings into her bag and apparated with a loud crack. For his part, Severus stood with his mouth hanging open in such a dignified manner that he managed to not have drool drip from the corner.

Snapping out of it, Severus sent Harry to his room. "We don't have much time, get everything together, including Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley. Show me the meaning of quickness, Potter!" As Harry ran from the room, Severus turned and gathered up his belongings and stuffed them into an enchanted small leather bag. He hurriedly put his boots on. By the time he had his stuff in the car, Albus had arrived. The old wizard wasted no time in beginning to put wards up, Georgie and Baylor at his side. Lucy and Jena were helping the other adults gather up their progeny and were seeing them safely off when the trio made their way down the steps and into the front yard.

Harry was able to catch a glimpse of the headmaster before being ushered into the car. "Wait!" He yelled.

"Potter, now is NOT the time!" Severus snapped.

"I should stay."

"Are you mental?! Absolutely not!"

"This is my fault!" Harry said, "What if Lucius comes back?"

"Potter, get in the damn car!"

"No!"

Severus could only take so much, he grabbed Harry by the scruff of his neck and before he could protest, the professor pushed his student into the car. Harry's friends were already seated in the back, their eyes wide as they watched the going-ons around them. The door slammed shut beside him and Harry turned a weary face to Ron and Hermione. They gave him tight - but reassuring - smiles. When Severus entered the car, it rolled to life and he backed out of the driveway, his hands clenched on the steering wheel to keep from shaking.

"Sir?" Hermione asked, "Wouldn't it be quicker to floo?"

"The networks are being watched, Hermione." Severus replied, looking at her in the rear view mirror as they turned onto Center Street, "They will not expect us to drive."

As they pulled onto the Highway, Harry sank low in his seat.

Four hours from where they started, Severus was slowing down to pay the toll for the Throgs Neck Bridge. Both Hermione and Ron had fallen asleep somewhere back on the Thruway. The professor handed over the money to the toll worker and glanced over at the miserable teen next to him. Harry stared out of the window; he did not speak and had barely moved throughout the entirety of the trip. Severus sighed. He focused back on the road and finally switched the radio on.

As they exited the bridge, he attempted conversation. "This is the Cross Island Expressway. We're on Long Island now."

Harry made no move to face him. "That's nice."

"We'll be at my house within the hour. I live by a beach. The area is warded, so you'll be safe."

"Fantastic."

"He won't find you," Severus tried.

"Sure."

"Dammit, Harry!" The man hit the steering wheel hard; Harry jumped.

In the backseat, Hermione jolted awake. "What?"

"I apologize, Ms. Granger, go back to sleep." The young witch nodded and allowed herself to drift back asleep. The car was silent for a few minutes.

"Mr. Potter, you will cease this immature behavior right this minute," Severus hissed.

"How am I being immature?!" Harry snapped.

"Aren't you supposed to be a Gryffindor?"

"I thought you hated Gryffindor bravery?"

"Only when it isn't warranted," Severus spoke, his voice hard, "and right now, it's warranted."

"Yeah, well, we didn't get to say good-bye to anyone. I screwed up our trip," he gestured to his friends, "and your vacation also. Not to mention putting all of your friends in danger."

"Oh, yes, don't forget that some muggle in India stubbed his toe this morning - also your fault. And a little Chinese girl in China forgot her homework. Your fault as well. And some American teen was stood up last night by her boyfriend, that's your fault also. Oh, and of course there's that baby in Africa who..."

"All right! Shut up! I get it!"

Severus snorted, "Do you? You had no control over this, Harry. None what so ever. You didn't send Lucius bloody Malfoy to come knocking on Georgie's door, did you?"

"No," Harry sighed.

"Exactly. So, stop with the dramatics."

"Yes, sir."

"Damn right."

It wasn't long before the Camaro pulled up in front of a yellow Queen Anne home. The porch was a large wrap around that covered the greater part of the downstairs that sprang into a circular ending on the left side and shot up to support a rounded room and large cupola. On the right, facing the back but slightly visible from the side, was an upstairs deck attached to the house. Harry was able to see a barn some yards back that was old and decrepit looking, far from the restored beauty of the 1888 built home.

In other words, it did not fit Severus' personality at all. Harry shot his professor a look, which the older man answered with his own. "What?"

"It's just, well, this house seems nothing like you, even this new you I just met."

"I thought it had charm."

Harry balked, "Charm?"

"Is that so hard to believe?"

"Yes," Harry answered and turned around to wake his friends. Both Ron and Hermione woke slowly and stumbled out of the car, barely noticing the house until they walked from the long driveway up onto the porch. The various potted plants and wild ivy caught Hermione's attention first. She open her eyes wide and looked at the hanging plants, then the ones situated along the railings, to the ones crammed into the corners of the porch. Her eyes then traveled to the massive ivy that wound its way along the railing and down the chain links that supported a hanging wooden porch swing. She turned back to Severus and raised her eyebrows.

Severus groaned, "I'm a potions master, Heaven forbid I have an appreciation for plants and flowers. Oh, no, some call the ACM and the Ministry, quick!"

"Har, har," she answered to his sarcasm, "You're hysterical."

"That's what I know." He smirked and pointed his wand at the door, unlocking it magically before pulling out and old antique steel key and fitting it into the keyhole. "The combination of magic and muggle locking throws some people off, but I prefer the double protection," he answered to the trio's startled faces. "Georgie, if you noticed, does the same thing."

"We've come to accept Georgie as slightly bizarre and we love him for it," Ron answered, "you, not so much."

"I'm touched."

"Naturally."

"SEV!" The group had barely stepped a foot into the foyer when, from one of the doorways across the small room, a mass of black hair and arms busted through and tangled themselves around Severus. "I was so worried!"

"We're fine, love. Cranky, yes, but fine."

"You didn't hear, then..."

Harry looked at her, his head slightly tilted and a worried expression caught on his face, "What? What happened?"

"Come into the kitchen," Lizzie said, "and sit and have something to drink, eat, whatever."

The trio followed Lizzie and their professor through a hallway and into a wide country styled kitchen. Hermione shot Severus another look.

"Blue and green?"

"Shush up, Ms. Granger."

Hermione rolled her eyes and took a seat next to Harry and Ron at the breakfast nook.

For a few minutes, Lizzie busied herself with making iced tea for the teens and popping open a Samuel Adams Lager for Severus and herself. She set the drinks down and rummaged through the refrigerator for a moment before giving up and sitting opposite the trio and next to Severus, who, for his part, was waiting not-so-patiently for her news. His leg furiously shook and tapped against the tiled floor showing his nerves.

"When you didn't show up at the overpass, Sev, Lucius came back to the house. That dirt-bag had the balls to shoot an unforgivable at Lucy."

"The wards..."

"Weren't finished yet," Lizzie finished for Severus. "Georgie's house took quite a hit; Lucius had brought reinforcements. They're certainly not happy."

"Well. That's a given."

Harry swallowed a lump in his throat, "How bad was it?"

"Pretty bad, but no casualties. As soon as that blond bastard took a shot at Lucy, Georgie went ballistic. Dumbledore kicked some major ass as well, but hell hath no fury like a Georgie scorned." She grinned slightly and Harry felt the slightest twinge of pity for those Georgie went after. It was gone almost instantaneously though. "Not only did Lucius set fire to the right side of Georgie's house but some of those idiots in ugly masks managed to burn Baylor pretty bad. Georgie went on a rampage; threw hex after hex at them before they knew what hit them. In the end, the ACM showed up with some Aurors and were able to fight them off. Lucy somehow got in contact with them. Unfortunately all the douche bags got away, of course, because that would be EASY, but the Aurors are tracking them down." She took Severus' hand, "That's why I was so worried; I was afraid they had found you." Still holding the potion master's hand, she looked at Harry, "But the wards around here are strong and holding more than well, so you are all safe. But when I spoke to Jena through the floo about an hour ago, she said that Dumbledore was going to come check them out himself. He seems to be in total support of Harry staying here."

Severus squeezed her hand, "Everyone is all right though?"

"Yeah, Baylor was treated and he's fine. Was cracking jokes before about how hot he is." Lizzie laughed. "Jena said he was telling everyone he was on fire today."

He gave a small laugh, "Well, that's Baylor for you. How bad is the house?"

"There is certainly damage, but nothing a little spit shine can't fix."

"Is he upset?" Harry asked.

"Livid. But not about the house. He's angry about the assholes that attacked everyone. He's on a warpath."

"Okay," Severus laid his palms flat on the table, "okay, here's the good news, this entire town is warded. I got a little carried away when I moved here. The bad news? Lucius will surely notice. However, there's no way in hell he's getting in here to hurt any of us. So you three are free to wander about the town. Do not, under any circumstances, leave the boundaries. Understood?"

The trio nodded, "Yes, sir."

"Good. Now, upstairs and to the right are my guest rooms. The first will be Harry's, the second, Ron's, and the third for Hermione. The guest bathroom across the hall from Mr. Weasley's room. My room is to the left. This, obviously, is the kitchen. Through the far door behind you is the dining room, but I barely use it. The door we came through is the parlor - also rarely used, and behind that, the bathroom. The basement is the den with another bathroom. Also, upstairs is an office and the round room a library. My lab is on top of that in the cupola. All three guest rooms open up to the outside deck. You may use the front porch and in the backyard is a nice big deck and a pool. The barn looks rickety, but is fine. If you wish to walk to the beach, just walk to the end of my back yard, you'll see a gate. That opens into the alleyway that leads down to the water. I own a sliver of the land there and no, there are no lifeguards on duty, these are all private beaches. My neighbors are not mean when it comes to traipsing on their beaches, just as long as they know you are with me. You reflect me while you are here. Let's try to steer clear of any trouble, yes?"

His verbal tour done, Severus told the teens to remove their bags from the car and settle into their rooms. When they finished, and met Severus back in the kitchen, he studied each in turn and nodded his approval. "You are to carry your wands at all times. Ron and Hermione, you are both of age and able to perform magic. Do so if there is any need. Harry, you still have a few weeks before you turn of age, but if you're life is in danger, I trust you know what to do?"

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent, now, Lizzie is going to go run to the stores to pick up some groceries and I am going to Origin Alley, the East Coast's version of Diagon alley, to pick up some supplies of my own. For today, at least, please stay on my property."

When both adults left, the trio could find nothing better to do than to refill their glasses of iced tea and take them outside to the porch. Harry took up the swing, stretching his right leg out and using his left to push himself slowly back and forth. Hermione and Ron took seats on the wicker chairs and placed their glasses on the small table between their chairs.

"This house is so pretty," the young witch said as she stared out and down the long and winding driveway. It was lined with old oaks that swayed gently in the breeze. Severus' home was shaded and hidden from view from neighbors.

"It doesn't seem like Professor Snape at all." Harry concurred.

"Well, we've learned a lot about him recently," said Hermione, "so I guess it shouldn't be that surprising."

"But, it is." Ron interjected, "He is still sarcastic and can be kind of snappy, but now it seems more of a quirk then of his actual personality." There was a murmur of agreement from the other two.

"When do you figure Lucius will find us?"

"He can't!" Hermione yelled, glaring at Harry for even mentioning it, "Professor Snape even said that the town was warded!"

"Warded, yes, but he also said that Malfoy will most likely notice it. An entire town completely warded isn't something you see every day, you know." Harry said, as he pushed himself again. The breeze blew his hair back to reveal his scar. "I'm sure Lucius has figured out by now that Severus would have strong wards around his home. It would only make sense, after all."

"That's true," Hermione moaned, "he'll see a heavily warded town and know right away that we're here."

"Then what?" asked Ron.

Harry answered, "Well, we know that he can't enter the town."

"It won't stop him from trying."

"Severus will figure something out."

"Well, he better figure something out fast!" Hermione yelled, jumping up from her seat and racing down the wooden steps.

"Wha-" Harry began, but he never finished. His glass fell and shattered to the floor, sending the iced tea rolling through the spaces in between the wood. Ron was already at Hermione's side and not far behind, the Boy-Who-Lived sprang to his feet and pressed himself between his two best friends as they stood and looked warily into the distance.

Over the horizon, at the border of the town, the Dark Mark hung menacingly high up in the air.

When Severus finally slumped through the front door back into his home hours later, he was not surprised to see that the trio had fallen asleep together in the living room. Harry was protectively placed on the couch in-between the other two. He was curled up tightly in a ball and all three grasped their wands tightly in their hands.

Lizzie pulled an afghan from the back of an unused couch and covered the sleeping teens. She tugged their wands from their grips carefully and laid them on the unused ottoman. With a tight, sad smile, she turned to face Severus.

"Lizzie," he started, but she cut him off.

"Leave them." She walked back over to Severus, "Let them sleep, Sev, they're probably frightened and confused, waking them up will only intensify this."

"Liz, they need to know what is going on."

"And, it can wait until morning. Come on, Baby, we should get some sleep ourselves." Reluctantly, Severus allowed Lizzie to take his arm and lead him upstairs to his bedroom. Hours later, he lay awake next to the only other women he ever loved contemplating how what was supposed to be a regular summer instead took his life and put it through a juice squeezer. He felt like carton of muggle orange juice, squeezed and full of pulp. To add to the new perspective on the Golden Trio was the impending proverbial storm on the horizon. Voldemort knew he was a spy and he knew he harbored Harry Potter. However, for all intensive purposes, they were safe. The Dark Lord would have a right hard time getting through the wards Severus erected around the sleepy beach town.

He rolled over and faced the window. Through the venetian blinds, the first baby streams of light were slipping through. Sleep would have to wait for another night.

"YOUR MOTHER!"

"If you would kindly refrain from insulting my mother, Lizzie, that would be just swell."

"Oh, shut your pie-hole, Sev, and hand me the burn cream!"

Hermione was jostled awake by the sounds of cooking and raised voices from the kitchen. She groaned and tried to sit up, only to find that Harry had been using her thigh as a pillow. Behind him, Ron was curled up and his limbs were intertwined with Harry's. His head was at an odd angle, having been half on his friend's waist and half off. Hermione had a crook in her own neck and it seemed that the only one who was comfortable of the three was Harry. How could he not be? She was his pillow and Ron was his blanket.

She stretched as much as she could and absently took note of the actual blanket draped across their bodies.

"FUCKING A!"

There was snort from Severus, "So very eloquent, my love."

"It hurts like a bitch and my boyfriend won't get the damn burn cream!"

"I am not a boy, thank you very much."

Another snort, this time from Lizzie. "You keep telling yourself that and maybe one day it'll come true."

Gently moving Harry's head off her, Hermione stood and stretched again, sighing when she heard her joints crack. She padded lightly into the kitchen. Lizzie was running her hand under cold water and watching Severus as he stood on a chair and searched through a cabinet above the refrigerator.

"Don't you have a potion? You have to have a potion! You're a damn potions master!"

"My stock is out, I need to refill it, you wretched woman! I KNOW I have some of the muggle stuff in here somewhere."

Lizzie cursed, "I don't want the muggle stuff; I want burn cream!"

"This IS burn cream!" There was a shuffling of objects and a triumphant ‘AHA!' before Severus hoped down from the chair. "Found it!" he turned and caught sight of his student. "Good morning, Ms. Granger."

Lizzie snapped around and flashed a smile, "Hey, girl, hey!"

"What happened?" Hermione asked, still sleepy.

"Genius, over there, somehow managed to burn herself on the toaster. Mind you, it's charmed to only heat food." Severus opened the jar of burn cream and took Lizzie's hand from under the water.

"I'm tasty, like food, it got confused," came the muttered response.

Severus chortled and, casting a quick drying charm, scooped some of the cream out and gently slathered it on the reddened area. There was a slight pause before Lizzie yelped.

"YOUR MOTHER! THAT HURTS!"

"My mother doesn't appreciate your animosity toward her."

"Stuff it, Sev! It's a damn saying, you know that! OW! Gimme that!" She snatched her hand away and covered it with a napkin. "Fucking HELL that hurts! Damn muggle shit don't work at all!"

Hermione smirked when her professor rolled his eyes, "Liz, love, it works; it just takes a little longer than potions..."

"Useless, if you ask me. Kind of like that toaster. Where's my wand?"

"Up my ass and to the left, care to search for it?" Severus gestured toward a chair for his (hysterically laughing) student to sit in and turned back to the stove to continue cooking Lizzie's abandoned attempt at breakfast.

"Don't tempt me." She smirked and with her good hand pinched Severus' butt.

He squeaked and, Hermione would swear, actually blushed. She pretended not to notice.

It wasn't long before the smell of bacon and French toast roused the two sleeping teenage boys. Ron, especially, could smell food a mile away. They dragged their feet into the kitchen and took seats at the table, sleepily yawning and rubbing their eyes.

"Good morning, Sunshine," Severus teased when Harry gave a particularly long yawn. He placed glasses of orange juice in front of the friends and two more where he and Lizzie would be sitting. "I'm happy that the three of you did not do anything overly Gryffindor last night."

Ron looked up, still rubbing sleep form his eyes. "Why would we...oh."

As the previous night came back to the tired teens, Hermione asked, "What happened?"

"Lucius made it perfectly clear that he knows where we are. Suffice it to say, he's a bit pissy right now." The potions master said.

"Wonderful," Harry muttered.

Sitting across from him, Lizzie said, "You're all safe, of course. Dumbledore came and checked the wards himself last night. They're as strong as can be. That dumbass can have all the fun he wants, but he ain't getting into this town."

"We're positive that he can't?"

Severus nodded, "We're positive, Harry. We can stand just within the borders and mock Lucius until we're blue in the face and still he won't be able to do a thing."

"Professor?"

"What's my name?"

Harry's face turned slightly red, "Sorry, uhm, Severus?" The older wizard nodded for him to continue. "Have you ever heard of Murphy's Law? Whatever can go wrong will go wrong? It might be a muggle thing, but..." he trailed off.

"I'm familiar with it, yes?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure that Murphy had me in mind when he wrote that."

"Oh, did he?"

Harry nodded, "Which means that Malfoy will find a way, I'm sure of it..."

Hermione chuckled, "Harry, Professor McGonagall says you run on ‘sheer dumb luck.' I'm sure not everything goes wrong!"

"I survive because of sheer dumb luck; I get into those situations because everything goes wrong."

"Interesting thesis, but, I'm hungry. Let's forget about Murphy, Lucius, and all the precarious situations Mr. Potter here gets himself into." With a quick wave of his wand, the food that Lizzie cooked floated over the table. The witch herself sat next to Severus, sucking the part of her hand that she managed to burn as she did so.

"Where is the burn cream?" Severus scolded.

"Wasn't working, so I washed it off," she replied.

He scoffed, "Honestly, woman! So you'd rather suck on your fingers like a damn toddler?"

"Not like a toddler, like--"

Severus cut her off by clamping his hand over her mouth. "Let's keep it PG, yes?"

It was fruitless though, as Ron and Harry clearly figured out what she was going to say and were giggling like first years. Hermione, at least, had the decency to look shocked.

Lunch came and went and with the morning came afternoon. As the sun beat down and heated the glass of the windows, Harry found himself with nothing to do. Hermione was holed away in Severus's library, Ron was dozing on the couch, and Lizzie had flooed up to Georgie's to see how everyone was doing. Severus, however, was nowhere to be found.

After taking a shower and pulling on denim shorts and one of his new shirts (‘Rock is a Religion' written in bold black on a green tee), Harry, barefooted and still damp, stepped onto the front porch of the house. The heat assaulted him as soon as he walked outside. Severus kept his home magically cooled to about 70 degrees but outside could not be helped. The thermometer nailed to the porch told Harry that it was 98 degrees, which, of course, meant nothing to him. The smaller writing next to the Fahrenheit numbers read 36 degrees Celsius. This he understood; it was bloody hot out! To make matters worse, there was not a breeze to be felt. In the distance, Harry heard the sounds of laughing children and the calls of the seagulls. The air smelt faintly of the ocean and the roar of the waves nestled around him.

He stepped down the porch, purposely knocking the large steel wind chimes as he did so. Their sound resonated through the air. Several birds flew by overheard and Harry's ears picked up the ripping sound of a hose being quickly unraveled. He followed the noise to the side of the house.

Severus was pulling the long green garden hose from its base on the house over to his Camaro. He had two big buckets out with a multitude of bottles of cleansers, soaps, and waxes along with sponges and rags. As Harry neared, Severus heard him and looked up.

"Nice shirt."

Harry laughed, "Yeah, some guy picked it out for me. He's some loon who acts all badass when he's teaching when in real life is just a softy in love with his car."

"One of the most meaningful relationships," Severus answered, while filling a bucket with water and soap, "a man can have," he handed Harry a sponge, "is the relationship he has with his car."

Harry, used to washing his uncle's car, dipped the sponge in the bucket and brought it over the black surface of the driver's side door. "Just like the most meaningful relationship a Hermione can have is the one she has with a book?"

Severus laughed, "She came begging to me, about two hours ago, to let her into my library."

"I believe that will be the last we will have seen of her in a while." The two worked in silence for a few minutes, washing and rinsing the Chevrolet. The cool water ran over Harry's feet and splashed at his ankles and shins. He took notice to see that Severus was also in shorts and barefooted. The bottoms of his dark wash jeans were wet with water. He wore a white tee-shirt and a green bandana on his head to keep the sweat from falling into his eyes. It was so unlike the image of the dour potions professor at Hogwarts that Harry sometimes had a hard time connecting the two.

Severus and Snape were two completely different entities and with this thought, Harry realized that Severus Snape was one hell of an actor. Not only did he fool the Dark Lord into thinking he was loyal, but he also had all of Hogwarts and most of the Wizarding world fooled into thinking he was some eternally pissed off misanthrope. When, in reality, he was so much cooler. He was laid back and humorous; sarcastic and caring; rebellious and mysterious.

In the background, a muggle classic rock station played Boston's More Than a Feeling; Harry found himself washing the car to the beat of the song. He was so into what he was doing that he did not notice Severus fill the other bucket with the freezing hose water nor did he see him creep up behind his student. It wasn't until the bucket was dumped over his head that Harry realized that Severus' sponge lay abandoned on top of the car.

He gasped and wheeled around to see the smug look on Severus' face. With reflexes born from dodging Dudley and honed by Quidditch, Harry snatched the running hose and turned it on his professor, soaking him to the skin.

Severus gave an unmanly yelp and ducked behind the car. "This is war, Potter!"

"You declared it, professor. Prepare to be annihilated!" There was shriek of laugher when Severus grabbed his wand and yelled his spell. Harry tried to duck as the stream of water shot out at him and turned so it hit his back. He took the moment of frontal reprieve to squash his thumb into nozzle of the hose and turned his handmade jet stream of water on the older man, hitting him square in the face.

Severus coughed and laughed, "All right, all right! You win! You Win! UNCLE!"

Harry snorted, "Well, that's one way to cool off. Though, I didn't need another shower in the span of an hour." He pulled off his soaking shirt and laid it on the fence to dry.

Severus had removed his own and placed it next to Harry's. He re-tied his bandana and laughed. "I needed that; it's bloody hot out here!"

"Yeah, and I know how you old people suffer from heat stroke."

The man's jaw dropped, "Excuse you, Potter, I am NOT old." He paused, "Yet."

"Exactly."

"I don't remember the last time I let a student talk to me like that!" He said, his voice unbelieving.

"That would be the Alzheimer's." The look on Severus' face when Harry said that was priceless. He laughed loudly. "Memory loss is such a sad thing, but there really isn't much to be done for the aging mind."

"Harry!"

The teen picked up his sponge and started washing the car again, "Denial, of course, is another symptom." A yellow sponge filled with soap hit his shoulder, giggling, he sent it sailing back to the assailant. They dropped into a comfortable silence and finished the car within the hour. It was nearing 2:30 when Severus, with the help of Harry, capped the wax and put everything away in the garage. Slipping the can of Turtle Wax on a shelf, Harry spied something covered by a white tarp in the corner. "What's that?" He asked.

"The other most important relationship a man can have."

"What?"

"We'll save that for another day," Severus steered Harry out of the garage and onto the porch. Harry sat on the swing and waited while his professor disappeared into the house for a few moments before returning with a tray floating behind him. With a new, dry white t-shirt on, he sat in one of the wicker chairs and set the tray on the table. On it was a pitcher of sweetened lemon iced tea, a plate of honeydew wedges and two glasses filled with ice. He moved the table so it sat in-between his chair and the wooden swing.

"Thanks," said Harry as he took a slice of the melon. Severus only nodded and poured them each of glass of iced tea. Sitting back with a wedge for himself, he bit into it, chewed thoughtfully for a moment before swallowing and finally speaking.

"How are you handling everything?"

"Everything?"

"The demise of your trip, being kidnapped and escaping, Malfoy, and all that rot."

Harry sat back and wiped at some of the juice from the melon that was running down his chin. "I feel fine?"

"Is that a question or an answer?"

"I don't know," Harry said, "should I not be okay?"

"You can feel as you wish to feel. Are you really okay with everything?"

Harry thought. He allowed the soothing tones of Stairway to Heaven weaving up from the muggle radio to lull him. He took another bite of the honeydew. "I'm perfectly fine. Is that weird?"

"On the contrary, Mr. Potter," Severus spoke, sipping his iced tea, "it reflects wonderfully on your person. You have resilience and stamina, very important traits to attain."

Harry nodded and looked thoughtful for a moment. "I guess with growing up with the Dursley's I had to be resilient."

"The human mind has an uncanny ability to adapt to just about any situation."

"We're complicated creatures, aren't we?"

Severus tilted his head, "That we are."

Harry was quiet for a moment. When he next spoke, his voice was softer than usual, "Sir, don't you think, I mean, is it possible that the mind is a little too adapting sometimes? It's just that, well, some things we really shouldn't be able to cope with so easily, don't you think?"

The professor thought this out for a long while, biting into Harry's words like he bit into the melon, rolling them around his mouth and squishing them with his tongue, pulling every bit of juice from them that he could. He swallowed. "Nature, Harry, has given all creatures forms of coping mechanisms. Humans, of course, are much, much, more complex. If we weren't able to mold to our situations, if we were unable to withstand horrible, atrocious happenings, we would cease to exist."

"But some things, Severus, they're too much. People shouldn't be able to handle them."

"Like what?"

Biting his lip, Harry answered, "Like watching a classmate die; like seeing evil reborn; like watching a loved one be murdered, and other things, like, let's say a muggle witnesses a car accident, it's a bad one right? And in it, the person driving one of the cars, well they die horribly, they get decapitated or sometime just as bad. They saw that, they saw someone die, their last moments. Sir, how do you move on from that? Children who are abused, spouses who watch the love of their lives succumb to cancer, children ripped from their parents, families torn apart, being in some freak train accident and living while others die. It's too much, Severus, for anyone, isn't it?"

The older man sighed, "We have all seen or will see something absolutely horrible in our lives. Some, like you or I, will witness events that outweigh other catastrophes. Yet, if we were unable to move on, we would fade and disappear. The strong survive, the weak don't. Weak people, and I'm not talking physical strength, Harry, take the easy way out. Suicide or seclusion, they give up and let go. But those with will and strength, those who try, now, they live. They find it within themselves to move on, to become good people, to not let it change them for the bad. Do you understand, Harry?"

His student nodded, "Yes, sir."

"Harry, people have the ability to adapt so that they survive. A child, for instance, who was abused and neglected growing up can do one of three things: They can take the easy way out and kill themselves, or they can become bitter and vengeful, or, like you, they can grow into a loyal and kind human being. It's not a straight path though, not at all. Sometimes we veer from the road, hit a rocky curve, have to slow down, retrace or steps, re-evaluate our lives and only then can we stop being bitter and start to be human once again. And every person, Harry, every person, is on a different route, every person is on a different part of their road. Some stop, those are the ones who end their lives, some take the ugly road and turn bitter, and some persevere and keep going, they keep trucking."

"Like you, sir?"

"Yes, like me."

"What about Voldemort?"

Severus thought first and then answered, "I want you to believe that every person has good in them. They have bad too, but it's the good that we're fighting for, Harry, and that good, sometimes, not often, but sometimes, can diminish to so little it really isn't there. But, and listen closely here, that is very rare. I need you to believe that no one is wholly bad, I need you to understand that even on the ugly road, there are forks and paths that can lead you back to redemption. Every road, just like in the real world, is connected. Start on a road and it will, at some point or another, take you where you want to go." He turned his empty palms up then, showing Harry that he had given him what he could.

Harry was quiet, digesting this. He sat still for a long while, looking out over the horizon where the Dark Mark had lain the night before. He weighed his options and spoke slowly. "My uncle tried to beat the magic out of me. I think he was mostly afraid of it, but there it is. He beat me; he starved me; he hated and mistreated me. I am a statistic."

"You are more than a number, Harry, it's high time you learned that. You are a bright young man with a promising future."

Harry laughed sardonically, "A promising future? Sir, I could very well die in this war. I have more of a chance at losing my life than any other."

"If you keep walking on that path, then yes, you will die," Severus tapped his chair with his index finger. "No matter what you do, your life is passing, every second, every moment. What matters isn't how much time we have left but what we do with the time we do have. How are you going to spend your time, Harry? Living like any day now you could die? What kind of life is that? You didn't survive your childhood just by waiting for the second shoe to drop, you had hope and THAT is the most important thing anyone can have."

"I'd like to tell you, Severus, about my relatives. Someday, but not today. I don't think I'm ready for that yet."

"When you are, I'll be there."

Harry smiled softly, "Thank you, sir."

"Don't mention it," Severus said.

They lapsed in a short silence. After a few moments, Harry asked, "Sir, what happened last night?"

"A lot of confusion. The long and short of it is that Lizzie and I both saw the Dark Mark and made our way to the border of town where it was cast. Lucius was there, of course, still is, if I know him at all. Some words were tossed back and forth; he tried to hex us but soon realized that my wards absorb curses. I, more or less, told him to tell the Dark Lord that I hadn't been loyal to him for a long time and to shove his wand up his ass and allowed Lizzie to make fun of him. That was brilliant."

"What did she say?"

The older man laughed, "She just mocked everything, from his cane to his hair to what he was wearing. It was amazing. Afterwards the headmaster came and checked the wards and Liz and I came home."

Harry folded his legs underneath himself like a pretzel and bit into a second piece of melon. He held the wedge with both hands, holding the shell of it steady as he took sloppy bites from the middle, juice dripping down his face. Severus was taken aback to how young he looked. Small enough to fold himself up on a porch swing, young enough to bite straight into the middle of the green melon instead of eating from end to end, and innocent enough to see no wrong in any of this. The wizard sighed and looked away. Harry was almost 17. He was almost an adult in their world.

This...child...was to be their savior? He had no doubt that Harry could and would defeat the Dark Lord. What bothered him was how unfair the situation was.

Harry had barely begun to live.

Just because he could defeat Voldermort didn't mean he would survive to see the aftermath. It didn't mean that if he survived he would be the same afterwards, despite all the things he had just said to the boy.

"Severus?"

Brought out of his reverie, Severus saw Harry staring at him. He blinked and shook his head, taking a drink and smiling in reassurance to the teenager. "Hm?"

"The Alzheimer's seemed to be kicking in again."

Severus made a face, "Brat." He was answered with a light laugh. "You're sunburned." He observed Harry's reddened skin.

Harry looked down at his arm, "So I am, no biggie. I got burned all the time when I worked outside at the Dursley's, I'll take care of it in a bit."

"I probably have some Aloe based serum in my stores. I can get it."

"It's fine, don't worry," Harry said, pressing his index finger gently into his skin and watching it go white then back to red, "I'm used to handling things like this by myself."

"No, let me."

Harry looked up from his arm.

"You don't have to deal with these things alone anymore."

"But, Severus..."

"But nothing, Harry," he stood, "you don't have to do everything by yourself, not any longer, not anymore. Let me help you."

And so, Harry did. He watched as Severus vanished inside and reappeared some minutes later with a salve. With gentle hands, he smoothed it over Harry's reddened skin on his back, taking care not to scratch or hurt him.

On the radio, several chords rang out, and a wizened voice sang, "And the days go by like a strand in the wind. In the web that is my own I begin again. Said to my friend, ‘baby, nothin' else mattered'."

As the sun began to set and the fireflies began their nightly flight, Hermione finally emerged from the library. She had heard the soft tones of Harry and Severus speaking from the slightly opened window in the reading room and, after a day of pouring over potion texts, Shakespeare, transfiguration texts, and Milton's poetry, she made her way out onto the porch.

"She lives!" Harry quipped from his seat on the porch swing. He was stretched out on his back, his knees bent and the gentle breeze that finally decided to grace the town with its presence softly rocking him back and forth. Severus sat in one of the wicker chairs looking relafxed as he blew the smoke from one of his Marlboro Reds away from the teens. The rinds of the eaten honeydew had been thrown over the railing and were being attacked with gusto by ants.

"Ha, ha," Hermione said, sitting in the other wicker chair next to Severus. "I can't believe Ron is still asleep!"

"I suppose I'll have to give him a sleeping draught tonight," Severus spoke, "Otherwise he will never fall asleep when it's time for bed."

Harry shrugged and looked up at Hermione from the pillow of his arm, "Read anything good?"

"Oh, yes! Professor Snape has a wonderful book of Poetry: Milton and Dunn, and Whitman and Dickenson! And, so many books on World War II! Sir, I never thought you to be one fascinated with a muggle war before!"

Severus hummed slightly and puffed out some more smoke before answering. "It was not just a muggle war, Ms. Granger; our world was just as involved."

"Well, it was fascinating. Voldemort may as well be Hitler incarnate, but I've always thought that. I flipped through the book he wrote, Mine, mean...I can't pronounce it," she blushed.

"Mein Kampf. I actually would rather you not look at that book again; it's not for young eyes, my apologies. Hitler's mind was twisted and frightening."

"I'm sorry, sir, it's just, well..." she threw her hands up in frustration, unable to voice her mind.

"You cannot resist the urge to gobble up any knowledge?"

Harry snorted but remained otherwise silent. If there was game show on who could learn the most in a short span of time, he was sure Hermione would be a millionaire.

The girl gave an indignant huff but her face softened almost immediately. "I just love to learn; there is so much knowledge out there! So much I do not yet know!"

"You are young yet, Hermione. Do not be in such a rush to learn everything at once." Severus smiled at her. He put out his cigarette and leaned back, watching the lightning bugs as they flashed on his lawn and listened to the sounds of the crickets chirping.

"What fun would life be if we knew everything, anyway?" Harry spoke up. "What would the point be? Boring. That's what it would be: boring."

The older wizard chuckled, "I must agree. Life isn't about knowing everything; it's about searching for the answers. The journey to the truth, if one wishes to be cliché."

Hermione thought this over; she tilted her head and bit her lip. "I guess so. In that case, then, I'm certainly living life to the fullest! I'm always searching for answers!"

Harry cracked up, laughing loudly and freely as Severus sputtered, "You are hopeless, Hermione Granger! Absolutely hopeless!"

Hermione just shrugged and retied her ponytail, "So, what's for dinner?"

"Hm, I should probably feed you brats, shouldn't I?"

"I'm not a brat!" Harry pouted.

"You're a brat." Standing, Severus stretched and groaned. "I'm too old for this." Too late did he remember what Harry had spent the better part of the afternoon making fun of him with. He shot Harry a look that clearly said ‘Don't you dare!' but Harry obviously was no longer scared by the looks his potions professor gave him.

"It really is so sad how old people just deteriorate."

"Brat!"

Hermione, having no clue what was going on, just laughed and stood. "I think it's the lack of food more than anything."

"Could be," Severus said as he followed Hermione and Harry indoors. "Will you two please wake Mr. Weasley up? He's been asleep nearly six hours!" Harry didn't need to be told twice, he took off toward the living room. It wasn't a full minute before both Hermione and Severus heard Ron yell out and loud thump. The witch poked her head in the room and laughed. Harry, it seemed, had chosen the method of jumping on Ron and kicking him off the sofa. He sat on the now empty couch laughing as Ron looked dejectedly up at him from the hard wooden floor.

"Well, that's what you get for sleeping all day!" Hermione admonished. She held her hand out and helped Ron stand. Absently, he rubbed his behind.

"What time is it?"

"Late, you slept the day away," replied Severus from the other room.

"Oh. Well...I'm hungry." Harry and Hermione both shared a glance that had them laughing almost immediately. "What?!" Ron sputtered, "I am!"

"You're always hungry, Ronald!" Hermione joked.

The floo came to life then, and out stepped Lizzie followed by Georgie, Lucy, Jena, and Baylor. Harry, a bit hyper, jumped off the couch and ran to greet them. He couldn't quite explain why he was so excitable suddenly, it was just that everything, for once, was going all right. If he could bottle this feeling, he would be just as rich as Hermione would be if that Brainiac game show existed.

Being as large as he was, Baylor easily grabbed the small teen as he ran at him and flung him over his shoulder. Harry screeched and kicked his legs while Georgie barked a laugh.

"Baylor!" Harry yelled, flabbergasted. Nevertheless, Baylor kept his grip, even when Severus entered the room and hastily instructed him to ‘Put my student down!' Harry wiggled, squirmed, and threw the full of his strength into escaping the hold. The others could only watch, amused, as he wormed his way out of Baylor grip like a slippery fish and plopped to the floor.

"Well, I won't be trying THAT again!" Baylor laughed, a bit out of breath from trying to hold onto Harry. "You might be easier," he joked, looking at Hermione. Her mouth dropped and, seeing the look in his eyes, made to run but Baylor was quicker. He grabbed the girl as if she were a toddler instead of seventeen and flung her over his shoulder. "Into the pool with ya!"

"What?!" The young witch yelled, "No! Severus! Professor?!" But Severus was too busy laughing to help and it was out the backdoor and into the pool with her. Georgie, though he laughed, helped the sputtering teen out from the chorine waters, pulling her from the pool and laughing even harder as Baylor rubbed his ribs where Hermione had delivered a hard kick as he threw her into the water.

"Serves you right!" The old wizard said as he conjured a towel for the now shivering Hermione. He cast a drying charm on her cloths and she quickly rubbed her hair with the towel.

"Well!" Severus said from the doorway, "Now that you abused two of my students, what brings you here? All of you?" Lizzie coughed and glared at him. "Aside from Elizabeth Grace, that is," he added sheepishly.

"We figured we'd stop by for dinner to prove we're all okay." Georgie said, walking back up to the house.

"Yeah, there really isn't much else to do up at the house. We did most of the repairs, Baylor is fire free and we're hungry," said Lucy, as she plopped into one of the lawn chairs on the patio.

"We even brought food!" Jena said as she dug into her wizard spaced purse and retrieving three large bowls. "Marinated steaks, potato salad, and my famous tortellini salad, all free of charge for my special friend Sevvy!"

"He sure is special," Baylor muttered with a grin. When Severus glared at him he quickly added, "Fire up the BAR-B-QUEUE!" as if that was what he had meant to say all along.

With a wave of his wand, Georgie lit Severus' grill, shooting fire at the charcoals and humming in appreciation to the now rising heat. He took one of the covered bowls from the table and placed it beside the grill. From his pocket, he pulled his apron out and tied it on, ignoring the groans and laughs from his friends.

Harry teased, "Kiss the cook! No way!" Severus snorted and pursed his lips, leering towards Georgie and making kissing sounds.

"Ah, quiet, all of you! Or there'll be no dinner!" The older wizard put his palm flat on Severus' face and pushed him away. The professor took his once last chance at torment and licked Georgie's hand.

"HE LICKED ME!"

"Ew, Georgie, you don't know where his tongue has been!" Lucy called out. Severus was snickering like mad, as Georgie wiped his hand on his jeans.

"I do!" Lizzie yelled. "I know where it's been!"

There were several gasped and admonishments, "Lizzie!" "Elizabeth Grace!" "There are children present, you pervert!"

"Now, none of you is getting any food!" joked Georgie.

"WHAT?!" Ron looked heartbroken.

 "Always hungry..." There was a chuckle from the young witch, as Hermione and Harry shared another look over the redhead's stricken face. They laughed at this new inside joke between the two. Ron, of course, looked a bit put out.

"He'll feed you three," said Severus softly, "he has a soft spot for hungry kids." There was a smile on his face that Harry recognized right away. He knew that he was remembering the night he met Georgie. Harry caught the wizard's eye and smiled. Severus grinned back, "He loves strays."

"Whiskey. And lots of it."

"Jimmy, my boy, what did you do?"

"I ain't done shit, Georgie." Jimmy said, "Melanie left me again."

"And why she leave you?"

The downtrodden twenty-something sighed, "I lost my job."

"Well, son, you need to quit drinking and maybe you can keep a job for more than six months."

"Drinkin' is my life support! You know that!"

"Melanie, if you love her half as much as I think you do, should be your life support."

The bar, Nicky's Tavern, was a staple to the small town of Warrenville to the misspent youth and the widowed elderly. Georgie was the only bartender and it was only open when he felt like coming in. Sometimes it was open at six in the morning and others not until eight at night. He stocked only American Brews and whiskey. However, if a patron was lucky, Georgie remembered to pick up some vodka from the mom and pop liquor store up the road. If there were really lucky, there was cranberry juice and if there were exceptionally lucky, it was within its sell-by date.

Georgie was somewhat a father figure to many of the down on their luck kids in the town. They came for beers and left with advice and a hangover. He collected them like an old woman collected stray cats. He never denied anyone, even if they were blatantly under 21-years-old. He believed that everyone needed a place to go and preferred the underage to drink a few beers in the bar where he could keep an eye on them rather than in the streets downing a 30 rack of Keystone Light. These, of course, were the days before cops raided bars every other night searching for under aged drinkers. Things were different back then.

Jimmy sourly took the cup of water placed in front of him and trudged out through the back door and to his beat up old Chevrolet. Georgie knew he was, yet again, headed for Melanie's parents' house and to her bedroom window where he would call up to her to come home. And he knew, just like every other time, that she would.

He was one of the older strays in the Wizard's collection. He slept on Georgie's old couch so often that many referred to the plaid atrocity as ‘The Jimmy.'

Jimmy accepted this as an honor.

Grabbing a dirty glass and his 50-cent tip from the other end of the bar, Georgie pocketed the change and dunked the beer glass into the sink. The cloroxed water sloshed over the edges and onto the plastic mat beneath his feet. He rinsed the cup in the other sink filled with cool, fresh water and set about drying it. It was four in the afternoon, mid November, and blisteringly cold. Every time the door opened, a blast of air hit the bar and the graying tender would shiver and pour himself a shot a whiskey to warm up. Locals flittered in and out, some staying for drinks, others coming only for the cheap bar food Georgie himself fried up on the old-fashioned flat grill the owner swore was from Coney Island.

Georgie would shout his hello to every patron, knowing them each by name, "Johnny boy!" "Jolene!" "'Afternoon, Phil!"

When the door opened again, he expected Billy, or Ted, maybe even Marcy - She usually gimped in around this time on Thursdays. Instead of a regular, however, a worn out young man, bundled in an old green and silver scarf, came through the peeling old oak door. He sat, dejectedly, at the bar and ordered a water.

Georgie gave him a whiskey.

"What's your name, kid?"

The man stared deep into the glass for a moment before looking up through matted black hair. He seemed to weigh his answer carefully before his British accent spoke, "Severus."

Georgie took one good look at him and knew. "Sytherin, eh?" Severus looked up sharply. "I, myself, went to N.Y.C.W.A., New York City Wizarding Academy. Don't look so shocked, I can sense magic a mile away. My cousin went to Hogwarts, I know all about Slytherins."

"And what," Severus said quietly, "do you know about Slytherins?"

"I know that many of them have had a hard time."

That was his undoing. Coupled with seven months in Azkaban, the death of the woman he loved, plus the enormous effort of being a spy, it was a wonder he held out for so long. The story came pouring from his mouth and by the time he finished, Severus had tears streaming down his face and four whiskeys in his system. Georgie fried him up a burger and the fifth drink was a glass of water.

Marcy finally showed up at quarter to nine, she took a long look at Severus and said, "Got yourself another stray, don't ya, Georgie boy?"

"Georgie, you're supposed to stack the charcoals first," Baylor said, looking down into the grill.

"Nonsense!" Severus joined, "They should be spread out but touching so the heat is even." He was a long way from the wayward young man he once was.

Georgie grunted, "You're both wrong. Now, shut up and let me cook!" The two wizards looked mildly insulted but kept quiet.

"Come here, you!" Lucy said, pulling Hermione over to her. She sat her on a bench and the older witch sat behind her. Hermione had been struggling with her untamable hair for a while now, all thanks to her unwanted pool session. Lucy conjured up a brush and gently began brushing out the tangles. At first, the teen looked as if she was going to argue, instead she sat still and said, "Thank you, Lucy."

"My kid has hair just like yours, I'm used to it." She smiled and continued her brushing.

It wasn't long before the beers and sodas were brought out and the steaks were on the grill. Georgie lit the tiki lamps around the patio to ward off the bugs, proclaiming proudly that he was the one to buy them for Severus since the man was horrible at using magic to keep mosquitoes away.

The sun lowered in the sky. It was around 8:00pm, not yet dark but enough so that the fireflies were even more illuminated. Georgie was just turning the steaks and Lucy was finishing French braiding Hermione's hair when there was a loud, shrill noise. The hair on Harry's arms stood up. He swung around to stare, wide eyed, at Severus.  

"Sev, what the hell is that?!" Lucy exclaimed as she tied a scrunchie at the bottom of Hermione's hair.

But Severus had gone pale. "The wards, they've been breached!"

Lucy jumped up, "Hide the kids!"

"There's no time! Get me behind me!" Severus pulled Harry behind him as Jena and Georgie shoved Ron and Hermione next to him. The adults made a circle around the teens.

"Sev, the wards are at the edge of the town, though!"

"You think Lucius bloody Malfoy is going to WALK?!"

She had no time for a retort as a flash brought Malfoy into the yard, a magical gift, no doubt, from the Dark Lord. Curiously, no one else followed.

Severus quickly sent a patronus off with a whispered warning and trained his wand on the Death Eater.

"Oh, look, just in time for dinner."

"If you know what's good for you, Lucius, you will vacate my property immediately." Severus hissed, twisting his wrist in a threat of a hex.

"Now, now, is that any way to treat a guest? Manners, Severus, I would think you would know better." Lucius smirked and tilted his head to see behind the wall of witches and wizards. "Harry Potter, so good to see you."

"Piss off!" Harry yelled, his own wand drawn.

"Temper, temper, Mister Potter."

"You will not speak to him. You will not address him. You won't even LOOK at him! Am I understood!" The potions master took a threatening step forward. "Am I?!"

"Crystal." Lucius snapped. He twirled his wand, "Don't you want to know how I got in, Severus? It's quite a story. As it turns out," he said, without waiting for an answer, "your wards have but one weakness. Do you know what that is, Severus?" The professor kept silent, putting all his animosity into his glare. He looked, at that moment, nothing like Severus and everything like Snape. Harry was silently happy he wasn't on the receiving end of that look. "Well, Severus? Won't you indulge me with your curiosity?" He paused.  "Of course not! Not Severus Snape, stoic spy for Albus Dumbledore, protector of...Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived." He paused and turned his wand slightly, grinning so that his face twisted. It made Harry feel sick. "The weakness is you, Severus. Your secrets, your past. You."

Snape gritted his teeth and controlled his breath.

"You see, all I had to do was overpower your wards with memories. You know the ones, Severus."

"Expelliarmus! Accio Lucius' wand!" The spells were quick and over before Harry even realized what Severus was doing. Malfoy was livid, panting and losing control over his once cool features. "We settle this like men." With a thrust, Severus gave Lizzie not only Lucius' wand, but his own. "We settle this like humans."

"What do you plan on doing, Snape?"

"Kicking your fucking ass."

Lucius' eyes widened at that, but he held his ground. "Is that--" He had no chance to answer as Severus came at him, fists flying. The first landed across Malfoy's jaw, sending one of his teeth flying in a spew of blood into the grass. The second, with Severus' left fist, hit the side of his head and threw him to the ground.

"Get up! Now! Get up!" Severus dragged him to his feet. "You fucking coward, UP!"

Lucius took that moment to take a swing at Severus, succeeding in hitting his shoulder. He offset the professor for only a moment before Severus gave a hard uppercut into the Death Eater's abdomen. Lucius crumbled to the ground with a breathless wail.

Harry couldn't believe how quick this was going. He watched as Malfoy struggled to his feet once again, only to be punched in his once perfect nose. There was a spurt of blood and Lucius went down on one knee. He pushed himself up and took a blind swing at Severus, catching his jaw. The former spy grunted in anger and sent one last hit to the side of the blond bastard's head. Lucius went down and, this time, stayed down.

Panting and holding his jaw, Severus leaned over the barely conscious form. "And that, you piece of proverbial shit, is how muggles kick wizard ass."

Lizzie had already conjured up a bag of ice and strode over to her lover, gently removing his hand from the side of his face and replacing it with the ice. Severus held the bag and silently thanked her. She turned back to the heap that had once stood proud and arrogant. There was the sound of her hocking up phlegm and a spit. The loogie landed on Lucius' chest. "You don't fuck with my man and expect him to let it slide, you dumb shit."

"Ugh, get him out of here!" Lucy exclaimed just as the sound of apparating wizards filled the backyard. A quick moment of panic was followed by sighs of relief as members of the Order popped in, each looking bewildered and holding pieces of paper that sparked into flames and disappeared as soon as they regained their bearings from the length of the apparition.

Severus looked up from the crumbled form and into the eyes of Remus Lupin. The werewolf was studying him, no doubt thrown off by his dress. "Save the questions, Lupin, we have bigger fish to fry. Malfoy breached my wards, I don't know if anyone else did. They surround the town." Lupin, though curious, nodded and apparated out, followed by Tonks, Moody, and Dumbledore.  Kingsley, easily enough, had apprehended Lucius and was busy binding him.

That left a very pissed off Molly Weasley. Ron gulped.

"RONALD WEASLEY!" There was an all around wince. "HARRY POTTER!" Even Georgie was looking ashamed by this time. "AND HERMIONE GRANGER!" Lucy and Jena had stepped away from the teens and were now a safe distance away.  "What in the name of ALL THINGS GOOD AND EVIL DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?!" The trio stared down at their shoes. "What...WHAT?! Did you think you were being funny? Clever? The three of you! Look at me while I'm speaking to you!"

Ron lifted his head, "But mum! Severus said he told everyone we were safe!"

"That doesn't stop me from worrying abou- Wait, did you just call him Severus?"

"Molly, I apologize for cutting in, but why don't we discuss this later?"

Molly snapped her head around and caught full sight of the man before her. There was Severus, in his blue jeans and white tee, hair tied back, his green bandana on his head, and tattoos showing. "What are you WEARING?!"

All at once, Severus' friends burst out laughing and he, looking quite affronted, shot them a warning glare that they happily ignored. "They're called clothes, I'll have you know!"

"But why are YOU wearing them?"

"Because becoming a nudist is not on my list of daily activities, thank you very much!"

"Severus, I need you to allow your wards to let me portkey with Malfoy." Severus turned to face Kingsley, glad for the distraction.

"Of course." With a wave of his wand the air crackled and stilled. "All set."

"You sure did a number on him," the auror smirked.

"A number? A NUMBER?!" Lucius screamed. "I'LL HAVE YOU FOR ASSAULT, SNAPE!"

Baylor mocked, "'I'll have you for assault! I'll have you for assault!'" Jena, Lucy, and Lizzie laughed and chimed in, "'I'll have you for assault!'"

"All right, all right!" Severus chastised, "What are you all, six?"

Lizzie pointed at him, "Excuse you, Severus, but I'll have you for assault!"

"It's not assault if you want it, Lizzie!" Lucy called out. Severus went red and the other cracked up, but Molly had had enough.

"Will someone PLEASE explain to me what is going on here?" Shacklebolt grinned and, with a wink, left.

"Mum--" Ron started, weakly. Molly rounded on him.

"YOU ARE GROUNDED UNTIL YOU ARE THIRTY! NO! MAKE THAT FORTY!"

"Molly," Severus tried, "why don't we go inside?"

The witch spun around and pointed her wand at Severus. "I should hex you into the middle of next week!" She paused, bristling, "And who are all these people?!"

"You've spoken with a few of them, Molly; you are looking at several members of the United States extension of the Order," Severus spoke calmly, hoping to ease Molly. "George Anthony Bryce," he pointed to each in turn, "Jena Marie Wallace, Baylor Leon McKean, and Lucy Angel D'Amato.  And this," he gestured to Lizzie, "is Elizabeth Beatrice Grace." 

"Who is joining this Order thingy, thanks. And call me Lizzie." She stuck her hand out. Molly took it lightly, studying the woman.

"If you're not part of the Order, why are you here? I don't mean to be impolite..." Molly pursed her lips, now that she had been told at least who these people were, she felt slightly better. Though, by the looks to shot at the trio, they were in for it later.

"I'm Severus' girl...lady...lover...friend. God we DO need a better title!" She shot at Severus, who shrugged in response.

"You're dating Severus?"

Lizzie did not get a chance to answer as several pops signaled the return of the order members. "Dumbledore is fixing your wards," Remus said to Severus, "And Moody managed to catch a few of the Death Eaters. The rest escaped. It looks like Malfoy was the only one able to get in."

Tonks, her head tilted to the side like a dumb, confused dog, circled Severus. "I like this look on you. Much better than looking like a bat." Severus would have retorted if she hadn't tripped as soon as she said that and fell.

Suppressing a laugh, Harry held his hand out to help her up. "Wotcher, Harry!"

"Hey, Tonks."

"Got yourself in a right bit of trouble, haven't you?"

He shrugged, "Yeah."

She winked and turned back to the group. "Okay, so, all is right with the world?"

"No, but this'll do." Remus said, "Though I have to hand it to you, Severus, you just did what I've wanted to do for a long time."

"And what's that?" Severus asked.

"You bloodied Malfoy!"

Baylor clasped Severus' shoulder, "That'll do, Pig. That'll do."

Severus' mouth dropped and before Baylor could escape, he punched him in his arm, "Asshole!" Molly wasted no time in smacking Severus' arm for his language.

"TORTELLINI AND MACARONI?! That's it?! WHERE ARE THE VEGETABLES?"

"Molly..."

"THIS LOOKS LIKE PURE SUGAR! WHAT ARE THEY DRINKING?!"

"Molly, dear..."

"IS THIS WHAT YOU'VE BEEN FEEDING THESE CHILDREN SINCE THEY CAME TO YOU?!"

"MOLLY!"

Molly whirled around, interrupted from her tirade. Severus actually sunk low in his seat, glad to have her stopped.

"Arthur!"

The Weasley patriarch stood at the end of the patio. "Yes, dear?" the paper in his hands snapped and smoldered into the air.

"When did you get here?"

"Just now, darling." He turned to Severus and the others, "Snape, Tonks, Remus." They nodded their hellos, though Severus was still looking slightly put off. "Albus." Dumbledore tipped his head. "I'm sorry I'm late, I couldn't get away from the ministry until just now. I take it that everything is all right?" He turned to the teens, "Ron! Harry! Hermione! You're all right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, Dad."

"We're fine, Mr. Weasley."

"Good! Now, what's this I hear about food?"

Molly rounded on him, "DON'T YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED?!"

"Well, everything seems to be fine, I'm sure it could wait."

"ARTHUR!"

Mr. Weasley held his hands up in surrender, "All right, all right! What happened?"

"Your son and his friends decided to go on a muggle road trip! Here! In America! That muggle contraption broke and they ended up with Severus who has not-been-feeding-them-correctly! And almost captured by Lucius Malfoy!" She added that last bit on as if it weren't as important as Severus' thoughts on nutrition.

Arthur had stopped listening once Molly said the word ‘muggle,' however. "Really? A muggle road trip? Did you have a car?" The teens nodded. "Fascinating!"

"Oh! I give UP!" Molly fumed, dropping into a chair.

"Cheer up, Molly," Tonks grinned, "everyone is in one piece, right?"

She shot a glare at Ron, "For the moment."

Severus, still feeling slightly abashed, turned to Dumbledore, "My wards?"

"Are fine," Albus said. "Lucius managed to overwhelm them but I strengthened them. You did quite a job on them and this is a lovely house."

"That's your way of saying, what the hell is up with me, huh?"

Dumbledore's eye twinkled, "You know me all too well, my friend."

"We'd all like to know," Arthur spoke. "This is something of a surprise, I must say."

"Harry, you do the honors."

Sneaking a sip of the soda he had grown so fond of, Harry spoke quickly, "He was a spy, hid who he really is, Georgie saved him from himself, turned him rock and roll, comes here over the summer, not that bad of guy, actually."

Molly raised her eyebrows, "It was an act?"

"It's a gift." Severus quipped. Lizzie snorted.

"Modesty isn't one of his strong points."

"Modesty is lame."

"So are lovers who sleep on the couch in their own house."

"Is that a threat?!"

Tonks laughed, "Well, we see who wears the pants in this relationship!"

"There are children present, or have you forgotten?!" Molly snapped. She stood and ripped through Severus' kitchen, hunting down vegetables that she threw unceremoniously on the table before chopping and cooking them.

"There's celery in tortellini salad."

Molly glared at Jena but said nothing.

"Okay, okay!" the blonde witch conceded, "It's not enough. Can I help?'

Sighing, Molly allowed herself to be...mollified. For the moment. She nodded to the refrigerator. "That...cold...muggle thing...is there juice or milk in there? They're drinking pure sugar, I won't allow that."

Jena retrieved a bottle of cranberry juice that Lizzie looked longingly at, as she was going to make herself a vodka and cranberry at some point with it. She remained quiet though, understanding a mother's need to mother.

Later, when everything was cooked and ready and dished out, everyone had a plate of macaroni and tortellini salad, slices of steak, and plenty of vegetables. With a flick of her wand, the beers all vanished and in their place, each adult had a glass of juice. Severus eyes the redheaded mother sourly. "Molly, I'm an adult, you know."

The woman sniffed, "Obviously not, or my children would have been fed properly."

Ignoring the fact that she referred to the all of the teens as her kids and not just Ron, Severus snapped, "I've kept quite an eye on their food intake, thank you. I've made sure Harry only ate what his stomach could handle, for one!"

"Why? What can't his stomach handle?!"

Severus winced when Harry kicked him under the table. He sent and apologetic look in the young wizard's direction for his slip up.

"Nothing, Mrs. Weasley, can we eat, please?"

"This conversation isn't over."

Harry scrunched his face, "I know."

She nodded, "Eat. Finish every vegetable on your plate too, mind, or I'll open your jaw and shove it on. That goes for all of you!"

"God, she's just like my mother!" Baylor said loudly. "It's like my mom's soul invades every mother anywhere near me. It's fucking scary!"

Molly had looked pleased with herself at first, but as soon as the curse left Baylor's mouth, she began smacking his arm repeatedly.

"Ow, ow! Okay! I'm sorry! Uncle, uncle!"

Severus made no move to help, he only muttered, "That'll do, Pig, that'll do," and shoveled a fork full of carrots into his mouth.

"All right, WHAT?"

"Nothing, nothing at all."

"I swear to God, Lupin, if you keep staring at me like I'm some circus freak, I will have to castrate you."

Remus choked and hastily looked away.

"Ooh, Sev, you're a circus freak?! That's so fab!"

Jena received a glare in answer to her quip. "Don't encourage him!" Severus snapped.

"Encourage what? He's adorable!"

"The next full moon, I'm locking you in a room with him."

"You're a werewolf?! Aww!"

Remus balked. "Severus! That is far from your business to tell!" he admonished.

"And I'm not someone to stare at while you get food stuck in your teeth!" Remus blushed slightly, tongued his teeth and picked at them with his fingernails; Severus grimaced. "Ugh! Not at the table!" He received a shrug in answer.

Harry watched with a bemused grin. It was like a sitcom, no, it was better than a sitcom! In the two weeks since Lucius Malfoy was carted back to Azkaban (though Harry knew it was only time until he managed to break out again), Dumbledore had a different members of the Order routinely stop by and check in on the trio.  It gave their unconventional summer some extra ‘umph!' and Severus, of course, "bitched and moaned like a teenager on her period." Lizzie's words, of course. But this kept things interesting.

"I think I can keep watch over them just fine, Albus, without werewolves and busy bodies traipsing around my home!" He had argued. Dumbledore only grinned, winked, and adjusted the wards around the town to let the Order in without needing flammable paper passes. This also meant no warnings for Severus, since the members could now pop in and out as they pleased.

Harry didn't mind the company; most of the time he barely noticed. He, Ron, and Hermione were too busy exploring the town and becoming fast friends with Gina, Jay, and Corey - the young witch and wizards they had met at the 4th of July barbeque. On the occasion that an Order member stayed for lunch or dinner, it never interrupted the flow of their new summer. Gone was the road trip and, even though they were loath to admit it, they didn't really care.

It was 10 in the morning, around a week prior to Harry's 17th birthday, when Remus showed up. And although Severus would later deny it, both he and the werewolf were spending quite a bit of time together. Remus, Severus, and even Lizzie had spent the better part of the morning holed up in Severus' office, only emerging right before lunch. The entire group was there except for Georgie, who had stayed at his house to mess around with his wards.

Washing down his ham and Swiss cold cut sandwich with a swig from a bottle of Bud, Severus turned his attention to the trio, "Do you have any plans today?"

Harry shook his head and not so shyly reached for the beer bottle. He had been trying all week to catch a drink and see what was so great about the all mighty Budweiser. Without missing a beat, Severus took another bite of his sandwich with one hand and slapped Harry's hand away from the beer with another.

"Oh, come ON. One sip?"

"As soon as I hand you that bottle, Molly Weasley's Mother-Radar will go off and she'll have my head. So, in the safety of it, which I've grown kind of attached to, let's not and say we did, shall we?"

"Blah, blah, blah," Harry cheeked. "You give us soda against her wishes!"

"Beer is a little different, Mr. Potter."

In a nasally voice, Harry mocked, "Beer is different, Mr. Potter, blah, blah, blah, beer is different!"

"All right, enough!" Severus snapped. He rubbed his face, "How did I get suckered into this?"

"You favor Exxon stations right off of Interstate 88?"

"Uh huh, and you favor grating on my nerves."

"We all do what we're good at!" Harry quipped.

"And you're certainly good at annoying me!"

"Aw, you really think so? That's so sweet!"

Hermione snorted into her sandwich and threw a potato chip at Harry, "You're pretty good at annoying me, too!"

"Nah," Harry smirked, "Ron is definitely better at annoying you than I am."

With his mouth too full to answer, Ron just shot a glare at his best friends, who were giggling and snorting.

"Ooh, the stank eye!" Lizzie said, "I love me a good stank eye! And Ron does it so well!"

Harry, if it were possible, laughed even harder. This, of course, sent Hermione into greater hysterics and only made Ron attempt to glare even harder. But, he could never stay mad at his best friends and, with a sigh, dropped the stank eye and smiled. "Both of you hush up!" He said when he at last swallowed the food in his mouth.

"Remember that time when I hated you but my life was quiet?" Severus asked Harry, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

Harry pretended to think for a moment before answering. "Nope."

"Ahha, you're hysterical."

The teen reached for the beer bottle again, "I know."

Smack! "Keep your paws off my Bud!"

Harry rubbed the back of his hand. "You win this time, Old Man."

"I may be old, but at least that means I can drink beer." To add to his point, Severus took a long swig from the bottle. "AHHH! Refreshing."

"You totally suck!"

"Ugh, you learned that from Corey, didn't you?!"

"Nah," Ron piped up, "Gina."

"Lovely."

"Professor?"

"Granger?"

Hermione made a face. "Okay, okay, Severus?"

Nodding in approval, he answered, "Yes, Hermione?"

"Jay told us yesterday that there's a haunted road on Long Island called Mt. Misery, but he said that it wasn't like the ghosts we know of, that it was like the Muggle stories, scary ghosts? Is there any validation behind that?"

"I don't know about Mt. Misery. That's been a teen thrill since as long as I can remember," Lizzie said, "But I do know that the asylum out in East Suffolk is haunted by tortured spirits."

"Oh, come off it, Lizzie. We deal with ghosts daily at Hogwarts," Severus admonished, "and none of them are tortured. They know they're dead and they're able to communicate with the living as if they were still alive."

"No, no, Severus," Remus ignored the stank eye sent from Severus to him, "I know that some wizards refuse to believe it, but not all ghosts are like the ones at Hogwarts. Nearly Headless Nick, the Bloody Baron, all of them are able to communicate better with us because of the magic at Hogwarts, they themselves were wizards once too, so their spirits can be a bit different. Muggle spirits are usually tortured and sad. The only reason a Muggle may stay behind, if you will, is because their death was unsatisfactory in some way."

"You don't actually believe this stuff, do you, Lupin?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"It just isn't plausible? Haunted houses and ghosts are things the Muggles use to blame the weird happenings in their lives."

"Well then," Lizzie said before Lupin could answer, "Maybe we should all head out to the asylum tonight and test that theory."

"OH. MY. GOD. YES!"

"Hermione! I don't like it when Gina does that and you're not any different!"

Hermione completely ignored the rebuke. "Can we PLEASE?!"

Ron and Harry put on matching sweet smiles, "Pretty please?! With a cherry on top?!" They said in unison.

"I think we have enough freakiness at the table right now," Severus said, eyeing the two boys. "They're like the freaky twins from The Shining now."

"The what?" Ron asked.

"It's a creepy scary movie that's pretty much AWESOME."Lucy supplied. "We should watch it."

Baylor made a face, "Nah, it's not that good."

"Or are you just scared of it, Bay?!"

He shot Lucy a look, "I hate you."

"Can we still go to that asylum?" Ron asked eagerly.

Severus groaned, "Fine."

"Count me out," Remus said, wiping his mouth and standing. "And don't come crying to me, Harry, when you have nightmares."

Harry rolled his eyes, "I'm sure I'll be just fine, thanks."

Remus gave Severus a meaningful look, one in which Severus returned; Harry didn't need any more horror in his life, but he was old enough to make his own decisions, even if it meant going into a creepy old asylum and freaking himself out.

"Just floo-call me if you need anything," Lupin said, placing his dishes in the sink.

Severus nodded his acquiescence and Remus apparated out.

"Okay, we're done! Can we go?!" Ron asked after finishing his plate.

"It's better at night," Jena answered.

"And anyway," Lucy said, "we have a movie for you to watch beforehand!"

"Oh! What?" Hermione asked, excited.

"It's called: The House on Haunted Hill."

"Sounds PERFECT," Hermione said, grinning at her two friends.

It was Severus's turn to roll his eyes. "Really, Luce?"

She just smirked and jumped up, "I'll go get it from my house!" She was gone with a crack a moment later.

Jena cleared the table with a flick of her wand and herded the trio into the den. "Sit! Get cozy! I'll make popcorn!"

&&&

Less than two hours later found the trio crushed together on the couch, a blanket wrapped around them and their eyes wide. The credits began to roll.

"Still want to go?" Severus said from the doorway, causing the teens to jump about a mile.

"MERLIN!" Ron gasped.

Harry gripped his chest in fright, "We need to put a bell on you!"

Hermione couldn't talk; her face had gone white. She only glared at her professor.

"I'll take that as a no?" Severus supplied.

"Absolutely not!" Harry said, "I still want to go!"

"Me too!"Ron added. They both looked at Hermione, who looked as if it were an exponentially bad idea to continue with the plan. "'Mione!" Ron whined, "Come ON."

She made a face as if she had just swallowed something nasty, "Ugh, fine. I think that this is a bad idea now, though!" She said over the whoops of her two friends. "Ugh. Boys!"

"Dinner first," Severus said, holding a finger up.

"Bay, Jen, Lizzie, and I voted," Lucy said, walking up behind Severus, "and we had decided, based on an executive decision of, uhm, OURS, that we're going to the diner!"

Ron threw his hands in the air, "BREAKFAST THINGY! ...What?!" He snapped when Harry fell over laughing.

"Same cars as before?" Lucy asked, grinning at the teens.

Severus shrugged, "Sure. Let's go to the one in Massapequa, it's no Dappin, but it's pretty damn good." With the movie momentarily forgotten, the trio, Severus, and his group of friends piled into the Camaro and the Mustang, Lucy took off like a bat out of hell, Jena, Baylor, and Lizzie yelling with delight.

Not to be outdone, Severus dropped his car into second and peeled out, laughing evilly as Ron gripped the ‘oh shit!' bar and Hermione screeched her surprise. Harry, buckled up in the front passenger seat, whooped loudly.

"RACE ‘EM!" He yelled, as Severus took to the shoulder of the entrance ramp onto the parkway to get past Lucy.

"OH. MY. GOD. WE'RE GONNA DIE!" Hermione screamed, clinging to the ‘oh shit!' bar on her side. The Mustang was quick to catch up and with Severus in the left lane and Lucy in the right, it was an all out drag race. "There's another car up ahead!" The young witch warned, but Severus refused to be nonplussed. He just dropped into the shoulder and sped around the other car, surely giving the unknown driver a heart attack and a half.

By the time they arrived at the diner, Hermione was looking queasy and Ron more than a little white. Harry, Severus was pleased to see, was excited and loudly taunting Lucy on her loss in the race.

A host greeted them once they were inside and when they had eaten and indulged in dessert (and Ron scarfed down his entire breakfast thingy AND his dessert AND what was left of Harry's grilled chicken and Hermione's pie a'la mode!), they set out for the asylum. Baylor, Jena, and Lucy opted out, each excuse lamer than the next so that Severus and Lizzie vowed to never let them forget it. But in the end, it was just the trio and the couple, driving down one of Long Island's parkways toward the supposedly haunted property. Severus was driving with Lizzie in the passenger seat, and the trio crammed in the back with Harry in the middle.

Pulling off an exit, Severus made a few turns before switching off the Camaro's headlamps. He drove up the road slowly before coasting to the side. Once everyone had left the vehicle, he cast a disillusionment charm over the car and tapped the heads of everyone present. "The area is sometimes patrolled by cops, am I right, Lizzie?"

"Yeah, as soon as we're in we'll be fine to take the spell off, but until we get there, this is safer than a jail cell." She grinned.

"Oh, this is just LOVELY," Hermione grunted. "Nothing like an illegal night OUT."

"Live a little, ‘Mione!"Ron said, putting his arm around her. Her glare had him stepping away and behind Harry not a moment later. Harry just laughed.

"What's the worst that could happen, Hermione? Severus has to obliviate a few cops? Don't worry so much, we're magical, we'll be fine!"

She sighed, "I guess you're right."

"Of course I'm right!"

Severus nudged Lizzie, "You know the way, Love, lead on!"

Casting a quick lumos, Lizzie led them into the woods next to where they parked the car; it was just as the last of the sun disappeared over the horizon. Beneath their feet, twigs snapped and skidded and a breeze sifted through the trees, Harry shivered even though the night was warm. An uneasy feeling sunk to the pit of his stomach.

As they neared the site, Harry felt rather than saw the massive building. It wasn't until they clamored over the hill that the vision of the abandoned asylum came into view. Harry stopped short. "Whoa."

"This is going to be just like the movie, isn't it?" Ron asked. His eyes wide with fright.

Severus looked over at the teens; once again, Hermione was scared silent as she stared up at the decrepit building. He glanced at Lizzie, "It's not too late to turn back."

"No way," Harry said, "I'm a damn Gryffindor. I'm the Boy-Who-Lived! I've seen far worse! I can handle this!"

Severus gave him a pointed look, "This is different, this is-" A loud crash sounded from the entrance. Lizzie and Hermione both screamed and hid behind Severus, who had brandished his wand and shoved Harry and Ron behind him as well.

"Okay, maybe I can't handle this!" Harry squeaked.

Lizzie gripped Severus's shoulder and peered around him, "What the fuck was that?!" Out from between the broken doors, a raccoon scurried down the steps and bolted into the woods. "Are. You. FUCKING. KIDDING ME?!"

"I think we're safe, Love." Severus snorted, tucking his wand away.

"Oh my God, MEEKO, STAY AWAY FROM ME FROM NOW ON!"

Hermione laughed loudly at Lizzie's dip into her favorite movie as a child; her ease brought about half by her embarrassment for screaming and half because who could actually stay scared after hearing a Disney reference?

"Okay," said Ron, apparently growing his balls back, "are we ready?"

Harry stood up straight and lifted his chin. "Yes."

There was a snort, an eye roll, and an exasperated, "Gryffindors!" from Severus, but he went largely unnoticed as the group resolutely made their way to the entrance.

"If there are any other raccoons or critters or bums looking for a place to sleep and hide their 40 oz of Old English beer, I will smite you like no one has ever been smitted before!" Lizzie called out as they entered, her wand drawn and her left hand clutching Severus' wrist.

It was the foyer of the building that they entered into. Weather and water had peeled the paint from the walls, leaving them rugged and colored like a mosaic. The floors were soggy where there was carpet and where there was wood, the oak was damaged and unfinished. Leaves blew around them and the once red paint of the walls, as it chipped away, scurried across the floor with them. There was a ripped sofa at the bottom of the stairs that led to the upper levels and several doors leading to other rooms.

Harry laughed quietly and glanced at Ron and Hermione. "Should we split up?"

"Uh, Harry? No. No way. Not a good idea!" Hermione said, "I'm having at least ONE other person with me!" She grabbed Ron's forearm and squeezed tightly, eliciting a loud ‘OW!' from the red head as she did so.

Mischief danced in Harry's green eyes, "Have it your way then!" He said and bounded off to the stairs at the right of the foyer. He was half way up when Severus called out to him.

"Harry!" He threw his arms out. Harry just turned around and grinned. "Got your sense of adventure back, huh?"

"You could say that!" He turned and disappeared onto the next landing. They heard his footsteps as they bounded down a hallway and then, nothing. He had wandered out of their hearing range.

Where Harry was, he didn't exactly know. He walked the hallways, glimpsing into rooms and into the kind of lives the patients here had. Haunted or not, the asylum was creepy. The empty and rusted beds he passed all had cuffs and chains on them and Harry couldn't even imagine what it was like to be chained down.

He thought of his own life, the things that he had been through and his own horrors he had been faced with. For him, his life boiled down to one thing and one thing only-the defeat of the Dark Lord. From there, two things could happen: he could live or he could die. He was not so unlike those who filtered through these doors, was he?

The people trapped between these walls had no way of knowing what their tomorrow would be like. They didn't know if they could ever, would ever, taste the sweetness of freedom ever again, or if they would live to see another year.

They saw these walls, these doors, the men and women charged with their care and they only knew of that. Nothing was certain.

Harry stood in the between world of the doorway. He was neither in a room nor the corridor. He was in-between. The atmosphere he had left behind, the one where he laughed at his fright and joked with Severus had dissipated. A heaviness loomed in the air around him and Harry knew then that he should not have wandered off alone. He was by himself now, in the in-between of this asylum, one that was mimetic to the in-between in his own life.

His eyes fluttered closed and, slowly, he leaned his head against the cold metal. His body shook with a chill that engulfed him. It rolled up his legs and flanked his sides. He felt his breath hitch and his eyes opened, the green staring into the room he was about to enter. With a push, he left the doorway and the world of the in-between. The window he stepped up to was long gone, the glass shattered and under his feet like glitter. They were barred, heavy and iron. Rough to his touch. He was on the fourth floor now, and the view to the outside was a solemn one. The bars blocked a full view, but Harry could see, off in the distance, the town that the patients had to stare at and wish for daily. He felt the emptiness; the loneliness they must have faced while looking down at the town and know that beyond the borders of their own little hell, freedom lay. But they could never even dream to reach it.

He tried to press his face between the bars. Windows were in-betweens as well, but he could not leave the world of the room to enter this in-between. He could only feel the cool metal against his temples.

Harry knew, somewhere in the back of his mind that he should be sweating, that the thick air should be confining him, driving him away. But it wasn't hot. It was cool, almost chilly. Like the bars.

Sighing, he turned away from the window and faced the door. He approached it and closed it, trying to get a feel for what it was to be locked in this tiny room. The door had three dead bolts on it and the metal was four inches thick. There was a small window and a gate to place food onto.

He ran his hand down it like so many had to have before him and closed his eyes. What was this? Who was considered to be so crazy that they had to be locked in a room like a prison cell? Stepping backwards, he sat the bed, listening to it creak and moan with a weight it hadn't felt in years. The walls were bare, their paint chipping just like every other wall in the building. But instead of the red, these walls were just white. Plain white. The door was white and the stained linens were once white as well. Everything: white.

Harry eyed the room. What would life have been like in here, with a white washed room as your home and your only view stunted by the thick black bars that adorned your window, the binary opposites of the white room? Your meds, your food, and your life handed to you on a platter through a bolted gate in the door that was locked twice, once at the gate and once at the thick metal opening.

Were these people really that dangerous?

Was there no convalescence for them? What about him? Harry Potter, the Chosen One. The Boy-Who-Lived? Where was his break? His recovery?

From the corner of his eye, Harry saw movement. When he flung his head around to fully see it, he lost his breath. A boy, about his own age, stood in the corner. His hair and eyes were brown and he was skinny and sallow, the clothes he wore too big for his frame. His arms were bandaged and on his face were burn marks. Harry stood.

"Who are you?"

The translucent figure tilted his head in answer. He walked to the door and it opened without a touch. Looking back, he jerked his head for Harry to follow, and left.

Harry hesitated only a moment before exiting the room and entering the hallway; the in-between passing a chill over his spine.  "Where are you?!" he called to the empty corridor. From around the corner, the boy leaned back into the hallway, jerking his head again to Harry. There was no hesitation this time. Harry took off running, skidding around the corner to see the boy exit into a stairwell. From there, Harry followed him down the steps, down past the first floor and into the basement.

His run took him to a bolted door and he slammed into it with anger. "I can't get through this!" he called out. There was no response. Harry looked over his shoulder, wondering if perhaps there was another door, another hallway, that the boy had ventured into; there wasn't.

He pulled his wand from his jeans and cast a silent alohamora, hoping beyond all hope that the rules in America were different. With a click, the door opened and within its confines was the ghost, standing there, in the room, his head tilted with a question. Harry pocketed his wand and stepped through the doorway and into a space where no living being had entered since the asylum closed down on a cold and rainy day in 1937.

Slower this time, the boy walked to an office, the door stood open, having never been closed and locked, as if the occupier of the room had every intention of returning.

The boy pointed and Harry followed the almost clear finger to a thick file on the desk. He opened it.

"Is this you?" He asked, gently picking up a photo of a boy. The ghost nodded. "Your name was Nickolas DeLaney." Again the ghost nodded. "You came here when you were ten," Harry read, "you were an orphan." He looked up, his chest feeling tight. "I'm an orphan too. My mum and dad were murdered when I was a baby." The boy pointed again to the file, and Harry sat in the old and dusty chair and read. He read about the homes Nickolas was sent to and how, finally, after too many weird occurrences, he was sent here. To the asylum. It didn't click at first. Not until Harry read about the fire.

"On September 17th, 1937, Nickolas, on his third day here, was angry with his nursing staff for not allowing him outside. I, Doctor Stephen Cogan, had my theories on Nickolas' actions which were, as it was, confirmed that day. Nickolas set the door on fire without the need of a match, or wood, or anything flammable. He, with his mind, his anger, charred the door to his room. We, of course, are putting metal into every room now, but what a sight it was. Nickolas, seen through the door, was almost frightened by what he had done. And the fire stayed there. As if it was controlled. I knew it. I have found my first. I will experiment and find the differences; I will find the supposed core. The medicinal world will never be the same."

Harry swallowed. "You were a wizard." Nickolas pointed to where Harry's wand was tucked into his pocket. "And me? Yes. I'm one too." He was gifted with a very small smile and Harry knew that Nickolas had never met another like him before. ‘He must've led countless Muggles down to these rooms,' thought Harry, ‘just waiting for one who could open the door!'

"How did you die?" Harry asked. Again, Nickolas pointed to the file. The pages flipped on their own, through Doctor Cogan's notes, and what Harry saw, the brief passages as they papers turned, churned his stomach. He saw words like ‘cut open,' ‘electrocuted,' and ‘shock therapy.' On the final page was Cogan's last notes. Harry read them aloud:

"I performed a living autopsy on Nickolas. If he were not alive, I feared his magical core would be harder to find. This did, of course, end in his demise, but my staff were clever as always, covering his mouth so that he could not scream and distract me. Inside him, at the base of his spine and up, I saw what looked like a pathway that no other human has. Yet, it was not until Nickolas took his last breath that I saw anything. He had already succumbed to shock and was finally bleeding out. As soon as his heart stopped, I saw it. Sparks. Around us, the lights were exploding, the windows shaking and breaking. His magic was fighting for one last chance. And it was over. But I had found it. I had found the magical core."

Harry was going to be sick.

"How could they do that to you?" A tear slipped down his cheek. As silent as he had been since Harry had first seen him, Nickolas had moved to the doorway. He beckoned Harry to follow, and so, the teen put down the file and stood, his stomach rolling at the thought of what the boy in front of him had been put through.

Nickolas led him down the hall and into the morgue.  On the far wall, a blackboard that may have once housed the names of those being stored stood cracked and dusty against it. In the dust, a word formed. ‘Friend?'

"What?" Harry asked, "Me?" Nickolas nodded. "I...I can try, I guess."

The ghost walked over to the side wall, rows and rows of cold chambers lined it. He opened one and the slab slid out. With a nod of his head, he gestured Harry to it.

"Is there something in there?"

Again, Nickolas nodded. Harry didn't know what else to do. He sat on the slab and pushed himself inside. Lying on his side, Harry cast a lumos and looked around; eyeing the slick metal of the rectangular box he was in. He could see Nickolas standing there, watching him. "There's nothing in here!" Harry said. He moved and turned around, so that his head was near the opening. "Help me out?"

But Nickolas did not move. "Okay." Harry said, moving his arms to pull himself out. Nickolas pointed to the board. "Yes, I get it. Friend. What's in here to constitute that?"

There was a pause and Harry felt a deep chill settle down his back. "Nickolas? What's in here?" The ghost pointed at Harry and the door swung shut, the finality of the latch sliding into place barely heard over the sound of his own breathing.

Severus was feeling along the lines of how Harry felt about the old asylum: he wanted to explore it on his own. But the hand gripping his right and the other gripping his left arm didn't allow him that pleasure. Lizzie's fingers squeezed Severus' as she peered around a corner and on the other side of him, Hermione's stopped any blood flow that was trying to get past his elbow. Ron was better with his fear, staying as close to Hermione as he could and never leaving Severus' sight, or, rather, never letting Severus out of his sight. They made their way up the stairs and through the hallways cautiously, climbing higher and higher until they reached the top floor and then inching their way back down. So far, there was nothing out of the ordinary, just a creepy building with creepy rooms and creepy beds and creepy chains.

"Oi, where do you think Harry got off to?" Ron asked. They made their way around another corner and when the large metal door to one of the bedrooms on the fourth floor shut by itself, the group jumped and even Severus felt his heart skip a beat. "Wind," Ron muttered, he made no move to detach Hermione from his arm; the door freaked him out pretty badly as well-but he was a man. A Gryffindor man at that! He showed no fear, he comforted the women, and he faced life's scares head on. If that meant he was able to hold Hermione's hand without it being obvious that he was just as scared as she was, well, then so be it.

"Merlin only knows," Snape mumbled. But, if he was honest to himself, he was starting to worry. They had not even heard a peep from the Boy-Who-Lived since he had vanished up the stairs and down the second floor corridor. Severus could see that the asylum was big, but it wasn't nearly big enough not to have had them run into Harry at some point.

They descended to the third floor with ease and walked through the hallway curiously. This, it seemed, housed the kitchen and the staff lounges and offices.

"We'll run into him at some point," Severus continued, silently hoping that he was right. Harry was a bona fide magnet of everything dangerous, so the last thing he needed was for some other mishap to befall on the boy. He didn't think his body could take another near tragedy concerning Harry; he was too damn old for this. Though, he would never tell Harry that. The teen didn't need any more ammo against Severus getting up there in years.

"We better," Hermione said, "I'll kick his skinny behind if he gets into any more trouble!"

"That makes two of us," Rom muttered as they pushed open the door to the stairwell at the end of the corridor.

"Should we go down and into the basement?" Lizzie asked, a touch of bravery only evident behind the layers of fear.

Hermione made a face. "I don't know. Maybe we should just wait for Harry in the foyer. This place is really frightening me."

"What's this?" Severus teased, "A Gryffindor admitting to being scared?"

Hermione shot him an incredulous look. "Sometimes being brave is admitting when you need to escape."

"This from one-third of the Golden Trio," Severus huffed, but his eyes were light. He took a glance at Lizzie and at Ron, seeing their fear easily and sighed. "All right, fine. We'll go back down to the entrance hall and wait for Harry there." Ron nearly fell over with relief.

"I'll admit I've seen some scary things with Harry and Hermione, but this, UGH! This takes the cake." Ron said, "We always more or less KNEW what we were up against. This is completely mental. Er, no pun intended. But we know NOTHING about this place."

"One of the largest fears anyone can have," Severus started as he led them down the back stairs, "is the fear of the unknown. Bigger men than you or I have been bested by the fear of what they didn't know."

"Thanks for calling me a man," Ron lightly joked. Severus just snorted.

They reached the front entrance hall and it was with a sigh that Severus sat down on the decrepit couch that was the only piece of furniture in the red room. He had been hoping that Harry was already there and waiting for them. He was almost able to see the boy bouncing on the balls of his feet with his green eyes twinkling, excited about the adventure he had just embarked on.

"Where the bloody hell IS HE?!" Ron snapped, twirling around as if Harry was hiding in one of the corners behind him.

Lizzie took a seat next to Severus on the couch, making a face as she did so. "It's WET." She grumbled, "You couldn't even cast a drying charm?"

"Now why would I do that when I can cast one on your arse when we get out of here?"

"Har har," she cheeked. "Only if I get to cast one on you."

"Only if you do it when not in front of Harry, Hermione, and I." Ron said, "We like this new Snape and all, but we draw a line at any spells involving his arse."

"Aw, but it's such a nice ass!"

Hermione snorted, "Still don't want to see it, Lizzie!" The group laughed, Severus' tinted with embarrassment; however, the joy was short lived. They fell into silence. Hermione was the first to speak after a long while, "Where is he?" She asked, her worry splattered across her face like paint.

Ron fidgeted, "He's in trouble. I know it."

"Now, stop, don't jump to conclusions, Ron. He could be fine and having a blast," Lizzie said softly.

"No, Liz," Severus started, agreeing with Ron, "This is Harry we're talking about." He was already moving to stand.

"Aw, Sev, have a little faith!"

"I do have faith! I also have brains!" He snapped, his own worry making him almost irritable. "You three stay here, DON'T move." With a warning glare that shut Ron and Hermione up on the spot, he stalked from the room, headed up the stairs, and into the direction that he had last seen Harry.

&&&

In the basement, however, trapped in a morgue cold box, Harry Potter gave up trying to use magic to get himself out of the drawer. It was obvious that Nickolas was holding it shut. There was nothing that Harry could do; he had banged on the door, screamed, and begged, but nothing seemed to sway the ghost that held him hostage. The last time he had checked his watch, he had seen that he had been imprisoned for over two hours and idly he wondered how much oxygen he had left. The air around him felt warmer by the minute and the pressure in his lungs started to intensify, to deepen. He had always saved everyone else, risked all he had for those he loved, but now, as the air around him became thick and Panic wrapped her greedy hands around his throat, Harry wondered: Who would save him?

He was exhausted from fighting; his arms hurting from the exertion of the banging he had pleaded against the door, his eyes feeling swollen and tired and he blinked, having had no recollection of crying. He was far, far too distraught to have noticed anything save for the door that was so tightly shut that no light could filter through. With a strangled sound that carved its way up his throat, he canceled the lumos on his wand. There was no use of light, not here and not anymore.

And so, slowly Harry let his head rest on his arm. The tears in his eyes turned their routes, slid across his nose, and down his left cheek. They pooled under his face, slipping down his arm and wetting the cold metal underneath his body. His warm and still very much alive body that lay, in a heaving mess, in a drawer meant only for those whose last breath was already taken from them.

"Please," his voice begged, "I don't...I don't want to die." There was, as Harry expected, no answer. The oppression of the room pushed against him, the thought that so many lifeless bodies lay here before him seeping into his hope and drowning it; he felt like his head was under water, that there was no way for him to kick hard enough to push his body to the surface.  His eyes squeezed shut, forcing the tears from between the lids like Dr. Cogan had forced the life from Nickolas' body, like Nickolas was trying to do to Harry. His breath hitched and he curled his small body up, bringing his knees to his chest in a way that neither Ron nor Severus could. They were far too tall, much wider, and healthier than the Boy-Who-Lived. This child was little, the size of maybe a thirteen-year-old, fourteen, if fate wanted to be kind. But fate was never kind when it came to Harry James Potter.

And if Harry were to die in this cold chamber, he knew, sadly, that when his body was found, they would mark him as a little boy no older than fourteen, origins unknown. Maybe he would only be bones then, he mused, years and years from now. Some unsuspecting teens would find the door he unlocked open. They'd come into the office, see the file, and go to the morgue. A boy would dare his friend to climb into the chamber, and the boy, wanting to impress his girlfriend, would. He would open the drawer, and there would Harry be: the forgotten Boy-Who-Lived. A boy! Always a boy-never to be a man. At least, Harry thought, if I am nothing but bones, for once, no one will stare at my scar.

He let out a sob then, succumbing to the casualties of his emotions, allowing himself one more cry, just one, before he be would be silenced forever.

&&&

Severus found himself back on the fourth floor. The door in front of him was metal, but if he studied it close enough, he found burn marks on the frame. The room was empty, but Severus felt it-Harry had been in here and had been in here for a while at that; this room alone had captured the boy's attention. His eyes narrowed, this was the door that had shut on its own, before, when he, Ron, Hermione, and Lizzie were exploring. Something, though he didn't know what, occupied this room.

He felt magic in there, disembodied, soulless. And he felt Harry. He didn't know how or why, albeit his keen senses, his worry, or the fact that something in the room held its own magic, but he knew. "Harry?" His voice called out. There was no answer.

Finally, resulting himself to last measures, Severus pulled out his wand. He had been searching for the teen for well over an hour, something had happened. He knew it he felt it in his gut, the way the feeling tightened his body, strangulating his breaths like the rope on a doomed man's neck, the moments bringing him closer to a death he could not forestall.

"Point me: Harry Potter."

The wand spun in his hand. It felt as though it were pressing down against his skin, as if the direction it wanted was lower. Severus took the hint and hit the stairs running. He repeated the spell on the third floor, the second, the first, every time the result was the same. His wand pressed his palm.

"The basement," his coarse voice bit out. Exactly where they should have gone had the others not been so afraid. His anger fell away though, how were they to know that Harry was in danger in the basement? But Severus could not shake the feeling that by the time he reached wherever the boy was, it would be too late.

He took the steps two at a time, coming to a narrow hallway. The door at the end was open and with a jerk of his head, he entered it. It was an office; beyond it was another door that led to a small corridor. This, Severus discerned, was the head mortician's office. But by the looks of the place, he had his hand just as deeply into the studies of the mentally unwell as any of the doctors who worked in this so called home.

Severus stepped through the opposing door. "Point me: Harry Potter." This time, the wand did not dig into his palm. It, instead, turned to his left and pointed to a door. He steeled his gaze, squared his shoulders, and gripped his wand tightly. Severus would be prepared for whatever he found in that room. He would save Harry from whatever trouble he had fallen into.

He had to. He had no other choice. Severus knew that he could kid himself into thinking that it was the pulls on the unbreakable vow he had made for the boy's life, but if he were honest, the answer was blazingly simple: He cared for Harry. The teen deserved to live, to be happy, to be okay.

Cautiously, Severus approached the door. His hand slid along the cool metal as he attempted to push it ajar but he had to fight hard against it. It felt as though someone were holding it closed, but, finally, he managed to open it enough to slip inside. When he regained his bearings after the door slammed shut behind him, Severus let his eyes travel the room; it was a morgue, he deduced with a shiver. With a hard swallow, he prayed that he would, for once, find a living body in a place meant only for the dead.

"Harry?" he croaked out. Movement from the corner caught his eyes and he turned, expecting to see the teen he had grown so fond of. In his place, however, was the transparent figure of a boy no older than Harry was. He blinked slowly at Severus. Behind him was a dusty and old chalkboard; traced into the years of dirt was one word: Friend?

"Where is Harry?" Severus asked the ghost, the message on the board sending a chill through his body like that word never should. "What did you do to Harry?" He knew, again, he didn't know how, but Severus knew that this spirit had done something to Harry. It was his intangible magic he felt, that was his room! It was he who had captured Harry's attention!

The ghost, he saw, looked abashed and, for the first time, Severus felt that the room was filled with pressure. The boy looked down.

"Please, for the love of Merlin, where is Harry?" The ghost did not look up. "Harry! Harry Potter! Green eyes, black hair! That damnable lightning scar on his forehead! What have you done to him!"

The apparition lifted his eyes and the pressure ceased. Severus almost lost his balance at its sudden disappearance.  The room fell quiet and that's when he noticed it. The saddest sound he would swear he had ever heard, a sound which was not just perceived. It was felt. Sobbing. The deepest, most hopeless of weeping, heavy heaves of breath, hiccups that grasped no air, and a moan of lament so troubling that Severus' heart was breaking just from the resonance of it.

He felt his breath leave his body and for an instant, time stilled. He choked out, "Harry?" and the apparition lifted his hand and pointed to one of the cold chambers, his face a map of defeat, remorse, and regret.

When he listened carefully enough, Severus knew. Harry was locked in that chamber, the sobbing was him! It was Harry! His chest clenched, his heart dropping, and his breath stalling, but it was with a strong resolution that Severus Snape turned to fully face the chamber, his hope renewed. If the child was crying, that could only mean one thing: He was alive.

Sweet Merlin, he was alive!

Severus tried to remain calm. He really did, but it was all too much for him. Hearing Harry cry like he was churned his insides; it wasn't right. Harry should never, ever have had need to weep as he was.

He didn't remember moving to the drawer. All he knew was that one minute he was standing by the door and the next his shaking hand was reaching for the handle. It unlocked easily under his palm, the catch clicking open and the metal hinges grunting softly as it swung outwards. Severus froze at what he saw.

Harry's small body was curled up tight, his head covered by his arms, and his back and shoulders convulsing with his sobs. Severus could see the tension in his muscles; he could feel the hopeless air, smell the fear, and hear the quake of fragility. Slowly he reached his hand out; Harry had not reacted to the door opening and Severus could see the sweat at his neckline, he could hear the great gasping sobs that stole teen's air. Startling him would only make matters worse. So, with a light touch of his hand, he softly stroked Harry's shoulder.

The teen froze for a half of a second. His body still trembled but the sobs desisted. It was only an instant and he had yet to look up. But Severus realized his mistake; he should have voiced his presence first.

It took him a moment to hear the screaming. He registered the movements first; Harry's shaking body jolting and snapping to the side, escaping the hand and the danger of whomever had come to hurt him.

"Har..." Severus swallowed the lump in his throat, "Harry! It's me, it's Sev!" He tried, reaching for the boy again, "It's me, Harry. It's me! You're okay. You're fine. Harry! Harry, it's all right. You're safe now!" The boy jerked away, but, at last, opened his eyes and looked up. All at once the panicked screams stopped. He hiccupped and a fresh wave of tears slid down his young cheeks. "Hey," Severus said softly, "hey, it's okay."

Harry could not even get out any words. He tried, but they all came out as choked gasps. And so, unable to speak, he threw himself out of the drawer and into Severus' arms, clinging to him, weeping again, his body still shuddering so badly that Severus could barely retain a hold on the small form.

He wrapped his arms tightly around Harry's back, holding him up as the child fisted his shirt. "Hey," he tried again, "hey, it's all right. You're safe now." Stumbling back, Severus hit the wall and sank to the floor; his strong arms encircling Harry and maneuvering him, pulling him into his lap and cradling him. He pressed his face into the mess of black hair, "Come on. It's okay. I need you calm down. Take a deep breath. It's okay, Harry. Breathe, child, breath!"

Slowly, very slowly, Severus began to rock the small body in his arms, hoping that the movement would soothe the boy. He rubbed his back with his left hand, unable to even fathom the terror Harry had just encountered but not at all surprised at the effect it produced. He kept the trembling form close, hugging him tightly, protectively. One eye glared at the spirit who stood still as Death himself in the corner. "Just go away." he finally said. Nickolas wrapped his transparent arms around himself and vanished.

Severus was still staring at the empty corner when the feeling of a thin arm reaching up and around his neck caused him to jump slightly. Harry had barely moved aside from his uncontrollable shudders and sobbing, every movement was involuntary, his fists clenched in Severus' shirt not for a cognitive purpose but for Harry to feel grounded and alive, sheer instinct.

The man did not know the length of time that had transpired, but Harry's quakes had lessened considerably and his fist had loosened, allowing his arm to snake around Severus' neck in search of comfort. Severus helped him by moving his body upwards, reading the teen's movements and discerning what he thought he wanted: a hug. A simple form of physical comfort that had been denied to the boy for so long that Severus wondered of the intuition of Harry's actions. The other arm joined its counterpart around his neck and Severus wrapped his own arms around him in return, squeezing lightly. The boy hid his face in Severus' neck and the older wizard squeezed his eyes shut in his own grievance. One hand released the thin chest it encompassed to caress Harry's head. Its fingers running comfortingly through the soft and messy hair. He felt his own neck grow wet with the tears that flittered out of the closed green eyes. The moisture dampened the long lashes and they fluttered softly, trying to rid themselves of the burden of the tears.

"Let's get you out of here." But Harry made no effort to move save from tightening his arms around Severus' neck. "Harry," he said softly, "What must I do to convince you of your safety?" His only answer was the shuddering of a breath and Severus let out a sad sigh. "Too many times, even in this summer alone, I have failed to protect you. I led Lucius to where I said you'd be safe; I fell asleep when you should have been watched. Though you," Severus gave a small smile, well aware that he was talking now more to fill up the empty space than for actual conversation, "you managed to save yourself that time, didn't you? Brilliant, Harry. You got away from him not because of some ‘sheer dumb luck' as Minerva always says you have, but because you ARE a fighter. You ARE a survivor." Harry shifted in his arms and the older man knew then that he was getting through to him. "And you can survive this. It's over now, you're out and I've got you. And this time you will not have to deal with it on your own."

Gently, ever so gently, Severus moved himself to his knees and into a standing position. Harry gave a small and startled gasp at the movement and, most likely, at the thought of being carried. But Severus held onto him tightly, pleased to see that there was still a spark of the old Harry somewhere inside the trembling boy he clung to his chest.

"Now," Severus repeated, "let's get you out of here."

&&&

Hermione was near tears. It had been well over two hours since Professor Snape had left to search for their lost friend and about one hour since Lizzie had put both her and Ron into a body bind. But Lizzie, the young witch was pleased to note, seemed to be getting antsy herself. The two shared a glance and with a sigh, Lizzie released the teens.

"We give them ten more minutes. Then we'll go search. And NO trying to run off again or I'll put that bind right back on you!"

Ron snorted. "Whatever. Nine minutes now."

With her hands finally free, Hermione wiped at the tears that had been building in her eyes. "It's too long! Please, Lizzie! They're in trouble! I just know it!"

"Hermione, doll, listen to me. I know I only just got back with Sev but some things never change; Severus knows what he's doing. You just need to have a little faith in him. They could be on their way back up right now as we speak!"

"You said that an hour ago!" Ron retorted, "It doesn't take an hour to get back up here!" He paused and narrowed his eyes. "Eight minutes now."

Lizzie looked away from them, her wand tapping anxiously against her knee. "I'm worried, okay? I was just trying to, I don't know, be strong or something for you two and NOT a word about this to Sev! He'll never let me live it down."

"In that case," Ron said, "I think ten minutes are up."

"I think they were up over an hour ago," Hermione added.

Lizzie sighed. "You're right. You're fucking right." She jumped up, "Let's go!"

They had barely made it to the door when the recognizable footsteps of Severus flittered to their ears.

"Sev!" Lizzie cried out, flinging open the door to the first floor corridor. "Where have you--" She froze. "Oh my God, what happened?!"

Ron and Hermione were pushing their way past Lizzie before the words even left her mouth. Hermione's hand flew to her mouth, "Harry!"

With Harry cradled in his arms, Severus entered the room. He looked from one face to another and finally down at Harry's, which was mostly hidden in Severus' shirt.

He looked, at that moment, like a small and lost child and Ron's throat closed up with the fear of what had happened to his friend. "Harry? Mate?

Severus shook his head, "He's been mostly unresponsive." He looked at Hermione, "This place is definitely, indisputably haunted."

"What happened?"

"I'll explain when at the house. Lizzie, in my right pocket is my keys, drive them back. I'm going to apparate with Harry." She nodded and silently fished them out. In any other situation, this would have earned several sarcastic and borderline pornographic remarks from Lizzie; she was never known to be serious about anything. But now, in the light of the moon that reflected off a pale Severus and an even paler Harry, shaking in his professor's arms, she kept her mouth shut.

"We'll," she swallowed, "We'll see you in forty-five, okay?"

Severus nodded, clutched the child tighter, and was gone with a crack.

Gripping the keys, Lizzie turned to face the other two teens. "Let's get out of here."

&&&

He apparated them straight into the guest room that Harry had been assigned, not trusting himself to risk the steps to the second story landing. Harry was light, lithe, and little, but he was no toddler. He, at his age and yes, at his height, was not meant to be held, but Severus could think of nothing else and his presence, for whatever reason, seemed to help soothe the distressed teen.

Carefully, he laid him on the bed and pulled the covers up and over him, for once happy to see that the bed had not been made that morning.

"I'll be right back; I'm just going to my lab, getting something to calm you." Harry did not move or make any sound to signify that he had understood or even heard. Severus, not many moments later, returned with two vials. "Here, it's a mild calming draught and a second for later. Take one now."

Harry didn't move at first and Severus feared that he had gone completely impassive, that this had affected him much more than he could have guessed but a moment later a hand reached up and took the vial. Harry downed the potion quickly and sighed.

"Harry?"

"He was a wizard, Severus, and an orphan. Like me. And that's where he ended up, they thought he was crazy." Severus held his breath, letting Harry speak. "One of the doctors knew though. He figured it out. He knew he was magical. And he killed him. He wanted to find his core, so he cut him all open while he was alive to find it. And he killed him." Hastily, Harry wiped at the tears on his face. "All he wanted was a friend, someone like him. And they killed him! Severus, they killed him!"

"Harry," Severus started, brushing some hair from the teen's forehead. But Harry shook his head.

"That could have been me. He could have been me! Unwanted orphans." Again, Harry wiped his eyes, "And if I died in there, no one would remember me. I'd be dead. Like him. Still unwanted, always unwanted."

"You're not unwanted, child."

But the draught had begun its work and Harry had fallen asleep before he could hear the words that Severus had whispered.

Around them, the night wore on and in an abandoned psychiatric hospital out in East Suffolk County, a lost and lonely little ghost wept like only a spirit could.

Ron knew, without a doubt, that things would be different now. He wasn't fully sure of what exactly had happened, but he knew the gravity of it; Harry had finally broken down. It was, to him, both good and bad. Sometimes, and Ron knew this too, he could be thickheaded, smart when it came to a number of things but completely oblivious with others, but this was clear to him.  No one, not even Hermione, could accuse him of getting it wrong; for once in Ron's life, he was surer about something than even his thick-haired friend.

If it had been he or Hermione trapped in that drawer, they may have panicked but would have been essentially okay; however, Harry had been through more in his short life than anyone, anyone, deserved to be put through and this was just the topping on a long list of situations that should never have happened. But Ron knew, in many ways, that Harry needed this. He was always the strong one, the one who saved everyone else, always in control of the situation. Even if his own destiny was flopping like a fish on the deck of boat, slippery and out of reach and wholly and utterly absurd and irrepressible.

Barefoot, Ron made his way onto the beach, leaving behind him the yellow house, a continuously confusing professor, an infuriatingly brilliant girl, and the very best friend he had ever had: Harry, who had slept through the night and still had yet to wake on his own accord. Ron didn't count the screaming nightmares. He never did.

He liked the feel of the sand in-between his toes. It was hard to walk and took some practice, but the feeling was well worth it and anyway, it was the only way to reach the ocean. He walked some ways down the beach, almost positive that he had left Severus' property border but not exactly caring either way. He needed time to think, time to figure out how he could help Harry.

But he kept coming up empty, an unlucky fisherman who's nets and traps remained untouched, the only fish he caught flopping around, slippery and out of reach and wholly and utterly absurd and irrepressible. So he sat, letting the sea's waves drench his shorts and carve out the sand he sat on. The earth moved, with every wave, away from him. With nothing else to do, Ron wrapped his arms around his legs and rested his head on his knees and didn't move, not for the stirring sand, or for the lure of breakfast, and not even when he heard Hermione calling for him.

Things would be different now. Harry would be different. And though Ron knew it was both a good and bad thing, he still feared the change that this would inevitably bring about.

And just like those fishermen whose livelihoods depended on their catches, Ron gripped the empty nets, the empty traps, and tossed them back out into the sea, his young determination fierce and bold. He would fix Harry. Of that he knew, of that he was wholly and irrepressibly certain.

&&&

Lizzie bumped against Severus' shoulder. With a small grin, she stole his cigarette and stood, he just glanced up at her and lit another, puffing the smoke up to her face. She blew her smoke from her own stolen cig right back at him.

It was past nine and dark. The Long Island air was still and humid and beads of sweat formed at Severus' brow, every few minutes he wiped at them with the back of his hand. With the crickets chirping and the sound of the last gulls of the day periodically crying out, it was the perfect end to a perfect day to anyone else.

But he-and for that matter, Harry-were not ‘anyone else.'

They had been sitting on the steps, facing out to the world, watching as the night drew nearer. In the swing at the other end of the porch, Hermione dozed peacefully; Severus had sent a slight cooling charm in her direction some time ago, though he made no move to cast one for him and Lizzie. In the end of things, he really did believe in Georgie's philosophy about never taking advantage of magic.

With one last pull from the cigarette, Lizzie tossed the butt out toward the street and turned back her lover, the one man she could never tame let alone understand. And for that, she never could stop loving him.

Exhaling and allowing the smoke to filter around them, Severus slowly blinked. She leisurely smiled, "I'm gonna take off for a few days."

"What?" Severus said, hastily standing, "We only just got back together!"

Lizzie walked down the steps and out to the driveway; she ran her hand along the boot of the Camaro. "I know. But you need to relax, take care of that beautiful little green eyed kid, and show his two friends that he will be okay in the end. And you need to figure out what you want, Sev."

"What? What I want? Lizzie?"

"Babe, I mean with us. This has been fun, and I love you and I know that you love me. But I live here and you there." She didn't need to elucidate, Severus knew she was talking about America and England. "Something's gotta give, hon."

"Elizabeth Beatrice--"

"Oh, stop with the full name shit," she said, turning towards him and crossing her arms. "How much are you willing to give, Sevvy? Because I'm willing to give everything."

"I would too. Give everything, I mean."

She gave him a soft smile, "Good. Then that means I have to pack."

"I'm sorry?"

With a fluttery laugh, Lizzie started walking backward toward the curb, "Always wanted to see what was so great about Hogwarts anyway." Severus' jaw dropped and she threw her head back and laughed. "Think they're ready for me?"

Finally, Severus smiled, wide and sweet, "Baby doll, I'm not even ready for you."

"Good." With a wink and a crack, she was gone.

"'Bout time." Hermione mumbled and Severus' neck snapped around to face her.

"Ahem?" Severus said, putting his hands on his hips and mock glaring at the young witch whose eyes were barely open.

Hermione just shrugged and turned over, using her arm as a pillow. "Just saying."

"Brat." With a flick of his wand, the swing gave a lurch and swung forward and back sharply, Hermione gave a squeak and clamored to hold onto the back. But as soon as the laugh left Severus' mouth, he stopped and looked up to the window to Harry's room. "Dammit."

Hermione followed his gaze. "Think he's still asleep?"

"I don't know."

"He'll be okay."

Severus gave her an appraising look, "You seem sure."

"I know Harry." With a small and tight smile, the young witch stood and stretched.

‘She really is very pretty,' Severus thought. With her brains and her natural loveliness, Hermione Granger would make one hell of a wife one day. Fiercely protective, loyal, kind, and logical. His thoughts strayed to the boy he thought to be sleeping upstairs and then to the red-head who had sought solitude for that whole day; Severus knew it would be one of the two of them and though he hoped it would be Harry simply because the boy needed someone strong like her, he knew that Ron had just as good of a chance. And whichever teen ended up with her would be lucky. Damn lucky. He just hoped it wouldn't rip the two boys apart.

"He is rather resilient, isn't he?" Severus finally said.

Hermione nodded, "I wish I could have half the courage he has sometimes, but..."

"But what?"

"He only has so much because of everything he's been though and I know that Ron and I have stood right next to him through some of it, it's still different. It wasn't directly related to us. It was like we were just along for the ride. And to think, I think...Well...I want his courage but I don't want his life. I know that sounds absolutely horrid but--"

Severus cut her off, "It doesn't sound horrid at all. I read a quote, years ago, I can't even remember who said it, but it's: ‘You can't be brave if you've only had good things happen to you.' Or something along those lines. And Miss Granger, you do have a lot of courage. You've stuck by Harry though everything. Even when it could have cost you your own life. And that says something right there. It says something huge."

She gave him a shy smile, "Thank you, sir."

He liked the fact that she didn't try to deny it, that she didn't try for that false humility. She took the compliment for what it was and accepted it.

"So," he said, "how do we go about fixing that Potter kid?"

"By teaching him that imperfection is beautiful and that the cracks are what make us unique and that this is just another day and another story and that he is NOT that ghost. That he didn't end up like him and that's what matters in the end. That it's not what makes him similar but what makes him different."

Severus agreed with everything she had said but took pause at the last statement. "That sounded practiced, like you or someone else said it before."

"That's because it has been said."

"And?"

"Some secrets are meant to be kept."

"Touché, Miss Granger, touché." Severus paused, "So how many cracks does he have?"

"Quite a few. But he wouldn't be Harry if he didn't have them. "

"Ah," Severus smiled, "he is quite a character, isn't he?"

Hermione snorted, "You have no idea. You know, Ron can make me laugh but a good chunk of the time I'm just infuriated with him over something stupid, but Harry? I can be in the worst mood and he can just make me roll with laughter. He's very witty. His humor is more subtle than that of, say, the Weasley twins, but it's good."

"'Laughter is the best medicine.'"

"You're just a plethora of quotes today!"

Severus laughed, "I try."

"Maybe that's the key though: Get him laughing; then fix it."

"Maybe he doesn't need fixing, just some patching up. Maybe the situation needs fixing."

Hermione thought for a long time on that one. "Maybe we need to go back to that asylum."

Severus nodded, "Maybe we do."

&&&

He had heard voices out on the front deck. Severus, Hermione, Lizzie. Either Ron was being uncharacteristically quiet or he wasn't there. It was a sweet lull of conversation, the words mumbled, unable to be understood, but sweet sounding. Familiar. Comforting. Harry found that he didn't like full silence. It was too much like living with the Dursleys or being trapped in the morgue.

But the voices of those he adored was a medicine for him, soothing, like chamomile tea or sweet coffee and Harry rolled over to his side in the bedroom of a pretty yellow house that fit just as well with his professor as Severus himself actually fit at Hogwarts.

That was something Harry was learning though: Not everything fit and sometimes it was better that way.

He pulled the blankets up higher, tugging them until he could tuck his arm under his chin and use the comforter and his hand as a pillow. The window was open, thrown wide and letting in the orange sunset.

Now that he thought about it, Harry felt somewhat ashamed of how he had reacted the night before. He had given up all hope, resolved himself to dying in that box; it wasn't right. He should have just chilled out, kept hope, and waited. Severus would never have left him there. He had nothing to worry about and yet he had completely lost all sense of himself.

If this was how he reacted to some bloody ghost, how would he react to facing Voldemort? The taste of panic rose in Harry's throat. He couldn't do this, there was no way.

The covers flipped back and Harry pushed himself out of bed. Sometime during the night, Severus had coaxed Harry out of his clothing and into a pair of pajama pants and a white tee-shirt; Harry had a vague memory of it. There were flashes of Severus pulling the clean cotton shirt over his head and the murmurs of comforting words, but the act in completion was lost from Harry's mind. He was thankful though for the care shown to him and with his feet bare, he slipped down the stairs unnoticed and into the backyard.

Harry did not like silence, but he was sure as hell good at it.

The gate at the end of the property stood open and Harry brushed through it swiftly, managing the path through the small hilt of trees and up through the dunes and down onto the beginnings of the beach. Sea grass fluttered through the sand and dispersed as the land sloped down to the water, disappearing completely about 100 yards from the shore and making way for the loose and soft sand that skidded and moved under his feet. Harry followed the sand to the water, barely noting the tracks made earlier from Ron.

Off in the distance, he could see a lighthouse swinging its light in circles, the aid and glory to a captain trying to navigate his way in the dark or in a storm, fear crippling his judgment: Where was land? Would he crash? Can he find the dock and make it safely? And Harry wondered who his lighthouse was.

But the answer was simple, wasn't it? He had two sturdy buildings on the shore he so desperately wanted, their lights pulsing ceaselessly through the night, guiding him, helping him, keeping him company when he was out at sea all alone.

The sun was gone over the horizon, rising for someone else across the world and leaving darkness behind. But the lighthouse stayed constant and Harry appreciated its vigor just as he appreciated his friends, his constants: Ron and Hermione.

A noise to his left drew Harry's attention and for a moment he was seized with an inexplicable fear. A figure approached him from down the beach and Harry felt his body contort with tenseness at the memory of another figure, another place, and a box meant for the dead.

"Oi, Harry! You all right, mate?"

It was Ron. Harry let himself relax, "For the mo'." Ron sat down next to him, his shorts sopping wet, Harry made a face. "Did you fall in?" he lightly teased.

"I fancied a swim but didn't actually want to go into the water."

Harry laughed softly, "What are you doing here anyway? Not worrying about me, are you? I'm fine, you know."

"Like bloody hell, you are."Harry shot him a glare. "Don't look at me like that, mate. I know you too well. You were practically catatonic last night, scared the bleeding hell out of me and Hermione."

"I'm sorry." Harry said, "I overreacted."

"Damn it, Harry, you did not!"

"Well, that was an expected reaction." Harry snorted to the incredulous look he was gifted from Ron.

"Harry, some bloody ghost locked you in that muggle more...glue? Morgan...More....That blasted box! Whatever it is. I would have flipped a lid too!"

"Morgue, Ron. It was a morgue cold chamber, to keep bodies fresh."

"That's bleeding disgusting. Look, mate, I know you always want to be the hero or whatever, but sometimes shit gets bolloxed up. It happens. Professor Snape told us about the ghost, about what you said. I get it, Harry, I really do. You had every right to freak out."

"No, I didn't. I lost all hope; I was ready to die in there. Why would I think that, Ron?" The worst part, Ron noted, was that the crap spilling from Harry's mouth, well, his friend actually believed it! "I should have known that Sev would come for me! I shouldn't have given up that easily, I should have been calm, I should have took a deep breath and just waited."

"Harry, mate, I love you, yeah? You're my best friend, like a brother, a non-red-headed brother." Harry snorted at Ron's words. "But sometimes, you're a right idiot. Do you know that?"

"Thanks for the boost in confidence." Harry said with a roll of eyes, "I appreciate it."

"S'what I'm here for!" Lightly, Ron bumped Harry's shoulder, smiling softly at his friend. When he was gifted with a pure and genuine smile from Harry in return, Ron felt a weight lift from his shoulders.

The fisherman had reeled in his nets and they were loaded with fish.

Somewhere around midnight, the two friends finally made their way back to the house. With their bare feet dotted with the glittery Long Island sand, they stepped through the pathway and up and into the backdoor. Ron, famished, pulled food from the refrigerator almost immediately. When he offered some to Harry, the young teen shook his head in the negative and shied away from the light from the cold box. Instead, he brushed his feet off on the welcome mat and toed his way through the house and onto the front porch.

Silently, he stepped forward, quietly closing the door behind him and turning to face the halo of smoke around Severus.

"Hey," he said quietly.

Severus' head snapped around, "Harry!"

"'Mione go to bed? I heard her out here before."

Standing, Severus pulled Harry into a hug. When he pulled back he said, "Yeah, a while ago. And Lizzie went home for a bit. Just us for the mo', pal."

Harry nodded and moved to sit on the top step; Severus sat next to him. "Ron's inside now, I think he was on the beach all day."

"I wondered where he had gone off too."

"He's worried about me."

Severus smiled, "We all are."

"I'm fine."

"You cannot prevent the birds of sorrow from flying over your head, but you can prevent them from building nests in your hair." Severus said after he caught and made sure to hold Harry's gaze. "A Chinese proverb. If there's one thing you're good at, it's moving on." Harry looked down. "But you do harp on things. You gnaw on ideas until they have festered into infected sores in your mind."

"That's a nice image."

"Pretty, right? I try." He paused, "Harry, listen. At the end of the day, life is life, no matter how you roll it. That's just the way life is. Things happen."

Harry just shrugged, unable to look up.

"Listen, you little shit," Severus said, trying to pull a grin from the kid, "Sometimes it's all right to not be okay. You know that right?"

Harry sighed, "Sev, come on. This is me we're talking about here. Harry Bloody Potter. I'm not allowed to not be okay."

"That's a load of crap. Last I checked you were still a human being."

"I'm the Great Hope of wizarding kind."

Severus snorted, "This from the kid who almost swallowed a snitch his first year."

Finally, Harry gave a chuckle. "Yeah, well, needed salt." It was a lame attempt at humor, but Severus was glad for it.

"Come on, I want to show you something." Standing, Severus held his hand out. Harry regarded it warily, not sure what the older man was up to. He looked up to Severus' face and held his eyes. With a soft nod, he raised his right hand and allowed it to be firmly clasped into the bigger, rougher, and wiser hand of his professor. Severus smiled and jerked his head toward the side of the house where the garage was. When he moved, Harry followed and with a grunt. Severus threw open the garage door and walked over to the white tarp that covered something, the same something had asked about days earlier but was told that it would have to wait.

"There's a level of freedom, Harry, which cannot be obtained by waving a wand, or flying a broom, or any of that stuff. It can only be had by throwing everything to the wind and just going." With an apologetic smiled, he continued, "I believe your Godfather had one as well." Harry stepped closer, his throat constricting in memory, already beginning to guess what was under the tarp, but still, the flourish with which Severus flipped the tarp back could not have had a greater effect.

Harry didn't know much about them, he'd only ridden in Sirius' when he was baby. But it was unmistakable. A motorcycle. The same one Georgie had told him about those long weeks before, the one he said that Severus had built from the ground up. It was simple in color, the silver metals and the black accents, the shining handlebars and the gleaming engine.

"Life is intangible Harry. The world we live in grips onto you because YOU are able to be touched. They can see you, feel you. What they don't understand is that not everything good and great is solid. And you ARE great, Harry. You will see that someday." He ran his hand along the seat. "But hope is not something that can be grabbed. You feel it, yes, but you can't take hold of it. It, Harry, is impalpable. It doesn't exist like most of things in this world; you can't go to a store and buy it. You can't make it. Go and get dressed. Jeans and trainers. Hurry up; I want to show you something."

Harry, having been quiet throughout the whole thing, nodded once and dashed inside to tug on blue denims and a white t-shirt. After slipping his sneakers on, he turned the light off in his room and, as he was descending the stairs, he heard it. The start of the engine. He paused at the bottom, just listening.

"You okay?" It was Ron; he stood in the dim light of the living room, the TV on in the background, playing some old muggle movie.

"Doing research on muggles?"

Ron laughed softly, "Yeah, you could say that. Found this channel with all old movies on it. It's fascinating; it's beautiful. Wizards could never capture something like that. It's magical but it has nothing to do with spells. I don't understand how some of our world can just...disregard these things."

"People see what they want to see, Ron."

"But are you? You know. Okay?"

Stepping forward, Harry wrapped Ron in a tight hug. "I will be."

Ron never gave himself up to be the emotional sort, but something clicked that night. Something sure as hell did change. They were finally growing up. And he knew that he could lose Harry at any point, but damn, did it feel good to just hold onto him at that moment. To breathe him in and know that Harry would be okay and that no matter what happened, he would always be his little brother.

"I love you too, you know." Harry whispered, not letting go just yet. "Outside, when you said you loved me, well, I do too. I never had a family, Ron, but if I did, I'd want you in it."

"I already am, you prat."

Harry laughed and pulled back. "You're crying!"

"Shut up, don't tell Hermione."

"Promise."

"God, what a summer this has been."

Harry grinned, "Who would have thought we'd end up with that evil bat, Snape."

"Snape? Who's he? I only know old Sevvy out there."

"He's not old, yet!"

Ron snorted, "Yeah, and I'm the queen of England."

"Really? Jolly good to meet you, your majesty!"

Laughing loudly, Ron curtsied. "Now go, Severus has that thing, that mote-cycle thingy roaring out there."

"How did you...?"

The redhead shrugged, "What can I say, I'm nosey."

Harry chuckled softly, "Of course." With one last smile, he disappeared out the door.

Severus had coasted down to the street, kicked the stand up, and was waiting. "Climb on behind me," he said over the engine, "watch those pipes down there, there you go! Hold on tight."

"Where are we going?" Harry asked, wrapping his arms around Severus' middle.

"Freedom comes in many forms; you three had a type of it for a while driving around in that beat up old car. This is another. Cars are one thing," he said while kicking the stand up, "But this is different. You never feel the wind like you do on a bike."

"We're going to feel the wind?"

Severus turned slightly to look at him, "We're going to take what's impalpable and make it real. Hold on tight!" he repeated, revving the engine and speeding off. Magic kept them safe but if was Muggle technology that set them free.

Hours later, when they stood at the end of the boardwalk at Captree Island, Harry slowly let go of everything. Life is life and what will be, as they say, will be. He let the wind dance around him but not once did he try to grab it, because wind, like hope, could never be trapped in fists or boxes kept under the bed.

"Let it come," he said to himself, "I am as ready as I will ever be. Bring it."

It was that time of the morning, when the night meets the day, when, though the sun was rising in the sky, the lighthouses stayed lit-their beams pulsing through the early daybreak, guiding ships home.