Harry had gotten up early; it was two days before the New Year, which meant only four days until they had to return to Hogwarts for the new term. He really did not want to return to school; the last two weeks had been idyllic, just being with his family – not having to worry about attacks in the hallway from Slytherins and their supporters, or from a basilisk set on trying to escape. He’d had a wonderful Christmas, received some cool presents, enjoyed games with his brother and father… His dad had even joined them in searching all over the manor saying he’d never really had the time before.

Runeskin had joined them on several of these jaunts, as he knew all the secrets of the house and its previous occupants. His clan had been serving the Prince family for generations and he had all sorts of stories to tell concerning the Snapes’ ancestors. As they explored all the different rooms, the house-elf would regale them with tales about the people who had lived in them: some funny, some tragic – but all of them interesting.

He wandered down the hallways, ignoring the mutterings of his Prince relatives as they slowly woke up. He loved the manor; loved the endless hallways, rooms with all sorts of hidden treasures in them. He especially loved the conservatory with its myriad of different plants that almost turned the glass room into a mini- rain forest, and the library with all its different books. He could lose himself in there for hours if his dad and brother would let him. But the room he truly enjoyed was the one he was heading to now: the exercise room in the cellar. His dad had not been exaggerating when he’d stated it was set up just like the one near his rooms at school; if truth were told, he was underrating the facilities. The room was better than its counterpart at the Scottish castle, and Harry enjoyed working out in the early morning hours, alone.

He grabbed a towel off a stack near the door, slinging it around his neck before entering the well-equipped room. He opened the door and was startled to see a house-elf going through katas on the floor mat. He stopped and watched the little creature move through the forms with such fluidity, he knew he was watching a master at work.

The elf was stripped to the waist, and wore breeches that seemed Indian in nature, loose fitting and gathered at the waist under a black cloth belt that was tied in a peculiar manner. The breeches left his shins bare, and he wore no shoes. Almost every inch of skin that was exposed - except for feet, hands and face – was covered in tattooed runes that seemed to move of their own accord: forming, breaking apart and reforming as the elf flowed from one position to another. It was likely watching a three dimensional piece of moving artwork, the way the runes moved complimenting the elf’s movements. Harry instinctively knew this had to be Runeskin, Severus’ chief elf – although he had never seen the tattoos before.

He waited and watched until Runeskin was finished, bowing in the direction of the rising sun then offered the elf his towel. The house-elf inclined his head in thanks as he accepted the flannel and mopped his face and body dry.

“What was that?” Harry asked.

“A form of martial arts, Master Harry. It aids me in keeping me limber, and is a form of meditation. I do it every morning – usually outside – to greet the sun,” he explained before tossing the towel into a laundry bin.

Harry nodded; he understood - having studied with Severus the last few months, and from catching glimpses of martial arts movies that were Dudley’s favourite genre. “Are house-elves allowed to fight?”

“My clan is a warrior clan, and we have always served and protected the Prince family. In centuries past, that included knowing defensive and offensive tactics. These have been passed down from generation to generation, as well as augmented by various other cultures.”

“And the tattoos?” Harry ventured.

“I am the chief of my clan, these denote the wishes and blessings of my clan. They move and change as the blessings and wishes change. I can also hide them when I need to,” he further elaborated.

“Do they carry power as well?” Harry shrewdly guessed.

Runeskin nodded sagely. “Very good, young Master, they do indeed carry power, and concentrate it. It helps me help my clan,” he explained.

“Would those work for me?” Harry asked hopefully.

“I don’t think so, Master Harry. It is very much a house-elf magic.”

Disappointed, but not too surprised, Harry sat down on the mats in order to place himself more at the elf’s height. “Runeskin, I’ve heard other elves speak – like Dobby, and some others at the castle – you don’t talk like they do… Why?” He didn’t want to sound rude, asking the question, but he was curious – the elf spoke nearly as well as his father! He watched as Runeskin sat down across from him, looking him keenly in the eye.

“House-elves are quite intelligent and powerful, Master Harry, but they have been serving wizards for nearly a thousand years. Many clans have given up using the intellect they are born with, and let themselves become complacent and servile in their manners. My clan still holds with the old ways and impress upon our young the need to always be learning and expanding their minds. We work alongside the wizards we guard, not below them. We work as a team,” he explained.

Harry was quiet for a moment as he thought about what the clan-chief had told him then asked a different question. “Can I learn those movements you were doing? I think they will help me train my body.”

“Very good, son, that is precisely why I had Runeskin meet you down here today.” Severus smirked as he watched his son jump out of his skin at the sound of his voice.

“Dad, do you have to insist on doing that to me?” Harry whinged, he absolutely hated it when Severus surprised him like that. He really needed to learn how to extend his senses so people could not sneak up on him. He made a mental note to check out the library on the subject later; he wanted to surprise his dad for once.

“Keeps you on your toes,” Severus replied, removing his own house jacket so that Harry could see his dad was dressed like he was, in a black sleeveless shirt, and loose black pants. “Now let’s learn these movements.”

The next hour was spent with Harry and Severus following Runeskin’s instructions and learning how to move with grace. By the end of the hour, Harry was exhausted, as if he had spent the time with one of his more vigorous morning workouts; but he and Severus could each do the moves fluidly without coaching by the elf, and he declared them ready to practice on their own. Harry could see how this would be a beneficial addition to his training program, aiding in his balance, fluidity and mental calmness, and he resolved to get his brother involved as well.

After saying farewell to the elf, explaining they would be ready for breakfast in an hour, Severus and Harry left the room and headed back up the cold stone steps that led from the depths of the deep cellar to the ground floor of the manor.

“Go take a shower, son, and make sure your brother is awake as well, if you would, please. We need to start putting the decorations away today and replant the tree.”

“I will, Dad,” Harry said as he climbed the stairs to the next floor and headed towards his room.

****

The day was filled with taking down the decorations, tidying up the parlour and their rooms, and taking the tree back to the forest to replant it. Severus estimated they would be able to use the tree for the next few years until it grew too tall for the room. Harry and Draco had brought their brooms along with them and, after the planting was over, raced back to the manor, giving Severus minor heart-attacks as they swooped around each other, chasing Harry’s practice Snitch.

Eventually, they were all back in the warm parlour, enjoying a late afternoon tea. Harry became pensive as he realized that in just a few short days, he’d be back at school – and they still didn’t know who had the diary, and what Draco was going to do for a house affiliation. He sighed as he turned a page in the novel he was reading. Draco nudged him.

“What?” Harry said irritably.

“What was that huge sigh for?” his brother asked.

“Oh, just worrying about next week, I guess. I mean… well, take you for instance,” he began, shutting his book on his finger to hold his spot. “What are you going to do about a house? Can you even go back to Slytherin?” he queried. “Would you even want to go back? Would it be safe?”

Before Draco could even open his mouth, Snape answered instead. “So many questions, son. Why think about this now?” Severus set down his book, settling back to give his whole attention to the topic at hand.

“I don’t know,” Harry shrugged, turning his attention to his father. “I’ve been thinking about it all day, I guess. What is going to happen?”

“Well, this is as good a time as any, I suppose,” murmured Severus. “Albus and I have decided to have Draco live in my rooms for the time-being. It will be safer for him.” Harry nodded his understanding, and Draco just raised his eyebrow in surprise; this was the first he had heard of the plan.

“Am I allowed to attend classes?” he asked, a bit angry at them just up and deciding his life for him, forgetting that is what real parents do when faced with the safety of their children. Severus just raised his eyebrow at his son, reprimanding with a look, Draco’s tone of voice. The boy blushed in embarrassment, murmuring, ‘sorry’.

Severus nodded his acceptance of the apology then went on to answer the question. “Yes, you will attend classes as you always have. You have your medallion and Portkey to help keep you safe, if anything untoward should happen. If things get intolerable, we will move you over to Harry’s schedule – or the Ravenclaws, if that would suit you better,” their father suggested.

“Harry’s, I should think; we can keep each other safe,” commented the blond.

“Probably,” Severus agreed. He turned to face to Harry. “As much as you like staying with your friends, I’m going to insist you stay in my quarters as well.”

“But, Dad…”

Severus put up his hand to halt the whinging. “Only until the basilisk can be sealed up again,” he explained.

Harry agreed, grumpily. He was just starting to get along with Ron again, and now he was being hidden away… Just like the Dursleys. It was too close to the way they used to treat him, in his eyes. He couldn’t see that Severus was acting protectively rather than oppressively – to Harry, it felt the same.

“Alright, we will try this for awhile then,” Severus blithely continued. “Perhaps until the mystery of the diary is cleared up and we can neutralise the basilisk. I feel safer with you two nearby, at least until that is solved.” Severus could feel something wrong along his bond with Harry, but the boy was effectively shutting him out and he didn’t know what he had done wrong. He decided to wait and see if Harry would open up on his own.

Harry let Silicia slither between his fingers as he thought for a moment, enjoying the feel of his pet caressing his hand; he noticed Draco eyeing him warily.

“Draco, are you afraid of snakes?” he asked his brother in a burst of sudden insight.

“A little,” came the timid reply. “They really gross me out. And that one is a cobra – they’re poisonous!”

“You’re the one who wanted to hear me speak Parseltongue and summoned her mother all the way from India,” Harry chided. “Silicia would never hurt you, or dad, she considers you my nest-mate.”

“Summoning is not the same as playing with them.” Draco shuddered, and moved away from his brother, scooting to the far end of the chesterfield. Harry rolled his eyes and looked over at his dad, a sudden thought occurring to him.

“What if I tried to talk to Gertrude, Dad? I could…” but that was as far as he got with the suggestion before Severus exploded.

“Not on your life! You are to put that foolish Gryffindor suggestion right out of your mind, young man! Absolutely not! You are never to approach that serpent and try to talk to it!” he thundered, oblivious to Harry cringing on the couch. But Harry was secure enough in their relationship to bluster back, a little.

“I wouldn’t have to! I could talk to it through a wall – it could tell us who… oh…” He stopped as the realisation came to him.

“Precisely! Harry, it does not know who has it now, and I am hoping we will discover that information before they let her loose again,” he explained, a bit forcefully.

“I just want to help, Dad. Why have this ability if I can’t use it for good?” Harry almost pouted after the rebuke, this afternoon was not turning out well for him.

“Talking to your own snake is good, son. But attempting to talk to the basilisk is just foolhardy. Now, put Silicia away and go wash up for dinner, boys, I’ll meet you in the dining room.” As Harry slipped his cobra into a pocket of his cardigan and followed Draco to a nearby washroom, Severus summoned a glass with a double-shot of Firewhiskey and sipped at it to calm his nerves. How was he, the premier Slytherin, supposed to survive raising a Gryffindor son? The boy was going to give him grey hair before he hit forty! Talking to a basilisk, indeed! He finished his drink and banished the glass before heading to the dining room to join his sons.

****

Harry waited the next evening until he heard his dad close the door to his room. He waited another twenty minutes just to make absolutely sure the man would not be listening before slipping under his invisibility cloak and slowly opening his own door. He checked to make sure he wasn’t attracting any attention, nor had triggered any alarms, then moved quietly down the hall to the junction and from there made his way down the stairs.

He thought he must have held his breath the entire way because of the big one he took when he was finally safe behind the closed library doors. He stuffed his cloak under his pyjama top, and pulled out his wand, whispering, “Lumos!”

He wanted to find the book on extending his senses and he was sure there would be something in this library: it was a skill he knew his father possessed.

Luckily for Harry, the library was separated into subjects and the mind arts were on several accessible shelves. Harry pulled several likely looking candidates and piled them on a nearby table, lighting a small lamp while he was at it.

It took nearly two hours but he had found one book that had an extensive section on being able to train yourself to reach out with your magic and sense what was going on nearby. The instructions indicated that the stronger the wizard, the larger the sphere of influence. He placed that to the side. Another book had also caught his attention, one on Occlumency and Legilimency. He knew his father was a master of both practices, and that he was teaching Harry the beginnings of Occlumency with the exercises Harry did with the jungle in his mind. These were more advanced techniques, however, and Harry decided to borrow that one as well, setting it on top of the first book.

He quickly re-shelved the remaining stack, blew out the light, took out his cloak and, grabbing his books, headed back upstairs to his room. He had some reading to do.

****

Severus felt the tugging on the bond that meant Harry was upset over something. It was the last night before they left for Hogwarts and Harry had been acting moody ever since the night he had explained to both boys they would be staying in the dungeons. He set down his glass of wine, closed the book he was reading and followed the strand to the conservatory where he wound his way along the green shadowed pathways to the gazebo at the centre.

He found his son seated there, staring out at the moon-illuminated night, snowdrifts glimmering in the reflected light, while copses were thrown into stark blackness. Harry turned his head slightly to acknowledge his father’s presence behind him, but quickly turned his gaze outward again. Severus silently took the chair next to Harry and waited.

“I love it here,” his son eventually began. “I feel… connected here. To you, to the Prince family, to Draco; but I miss my friends, too.”

“I understand…” Severus began, but Harry was shaking his head and turning to face his father.

“I don’t think you do. I – I feel like I’m heading back to solitary confinement…”

“Harry! That’s not…” Severus protested. How could Harry think that?

Harry turned a pleading face up to his father, his distraught features silencing Severus. “Hear me out, Dad. Please,” he begged. “I’ve been agonising over this for days. When you said you wanted me to stay down in the dungeons, all I could think about was that it was just like the Dursleys… The minute I found a friend, they would be taken away and I would be locked up in my cupboard. I’ve just gotten Ron back, Dad; I don’t want to lose him again! I don’t want to lose any of them, and it just feels the same. I know it’s not right, or what you meant,” he murmured as Severus reached out a hand to lay it comfortingly on Harry’s shoulder. “But it is how I feel.”

“Harry, I just want to keep you safe; surely you understand that? And I think you will find that is much different than what your previous guardians intended. Merlin, Son, I wasn’t going to deprive you of your friends – you would be allowed to invite them down to our quarters; I just don’t want you wandering around.” Severus raised his hand to Harry’s cheek to give it a quick caress with the back of his fingers. “You’ll see your friends in class, and at meals – just like always – but at night you’ll be much safer in our quarters where I can ward it much more effectively than the dorms.”

Harry leaned into the caress and, at his father’s suggestion, moved to sit in the older man’s lap, hugging him tightly. Severus laid a kiss on top of his son’s head then rested his cheek against the black hair.

“You know,” he mused, “you’re going to get too big to do this pretty soon. You are small for your age now, but the nutritive potion is working and you are gaining back some of your height.” His son just sighed against his dad’s shoulder. “Feel better now?” Severus asked, although he knew that Harry did, from the calmness along their bond.

Harry nodded and made as if to get up, but Severus just said, “Stay, let’s enjoy this while we still can.” He turned the chair so they could look out on the grounds together, enjoying a small isolated instance of quietness.

****

Draco and Harry sat quietly at the Gryffindor table, talking in low voices as they waited for the carriages to arrive and disgorge the students in time for opening feast. While Draco did not sport any official badges still, except the school crest, they had decided that, for the duration, it would be safer to sit amongst his brother’s housemates.

Students began trickling in, and although several of the younger Gryffindors gave Draco sidelong looks, none of them outright attacked him. He began breathing easier, and Harry kept hold of his hand as his trembling slowed down. The Weasleys came in en masse, along with Hermione and Neville, and the six younger Gryffindors sat down around the two Snapes while Percy ignored them and headed to join his sixth-year mates.

Ron stared at Draco for a moment before addressing Harry. “What’s he doing here?” he asked in a hiss, wincing as Hermione and Ginny both slugged him in his shoulders. “What?” he protested, sending glares at both girls.

Harry waved Hermione quiet while he explained to the group. “Draco was adopted by dad at Christmas, Malfoy disowned him.” He waited for the stunned gasps from the group to die down. “And since the Slytherins kicked him out of the dorms before the end of term, he has no place to go.”

“Is he sleeping in our dorm?” Ron burst out, and Draco winced at the venom, but quickly recovered before stating in a snooty voice, “As if I would become a Gryffindor, Weasley! I’m still a Slytherin, just not staying with them – currently.”

Harry placed a calming hand on his brother’s arm. “No, Ron, but he may end up joining our schedule and, in the meantime, I am going to live in dad’s rooms with him and Draco. At least until the mystery of the Diary is solved,” he explained. Ginny paled at the reminder and Harry rushed to reassure her.

“Ginny, it wasn’t your fault – you had no way of knowing what that thing could do, alright?” She nodded and sucked in a huge gulp of air as George put a brotherly arm around her. Harry looked over to Hermione. “Did they explain what has been going on?” he asked his friend.

She nodded. “I even decided to take a stroll along the train to see if I saw anyone writing in a diary; Ginny joined me since she knew what it looked like. While a lot of girls were writing in diaries, none of them were the right one!” she whispered. Harry marvelled at her boldness and said so. “Oh, it was nothing,” she shrugged off. “We just acted like we were taking a constitutional, stopping and talking to people along the way. Nott was a right twit, but he was the only one who bothered us.” She smiled at the memory. “Ginny hexed him with a wonderful hex; what was it again, Ginny?” she asked the younger girl on the other side of Ron.

Ginny blushed at the praise and sat up a bit straighter. “The Bat-Bogey Hex. Bill taught it to me!”

“Absolutely brilliant!” Hermione gushed. “All these slimy bogeys came crawling out of his nose, and began flapping their wings. I laughed so hard – served the git right!”

Draco joined in the laughter of the little group, and Harry felt as if things were going to turn out all right.

At that moment the feast began and the food appeared on the table. The students began serving themselves and Harry felt Silicia slither down his arm and poked her head out from under his sleeve. Ron was the first to notice and nearly choked on his pumpkin juice.

“Harry, you have a s-s-s-snake on your arm.” He pointed a finger at the animal, causing the rest of the table to stop and stare. Harry ignored them, petting his familiar.

“This is Silicia, she was a gift from her mother – the cobra from the duelling club? You remember her?” he looked up to find his dining companions leaning discretely away from him, paling. “She won’t hurt you unless you attack me. I’ll introduce you all later. I think she’s hungry though. Hermione, could you pass me that plate of chipolatas? She really likes those if I break them up into small enough chunks.” He hissed at his pretty little cobra and she slowly slid out and coiled next to his plate, waiting politely for her nest-mate to cut up her meat for her.

The students watched warily for a moment longer, and when it appeared as if she wasn’t going to attack anyone, they slowly began to ignore her.

“Is she coming to class with you?” Ron asked.

Harry nodded happily. “She’s magical, Ron. We’re bonding together and it works better if we’re together a lot. Dad’s going to explain it to the other professors, so they don’t freak out.”

Ron shuddered and Harry chuckled; apparently Ron and Draco had something in common – a revulsion to serpents. He contentedly finished his own dinner as he watched his little slithering companion finish hers.