Severus couldn’t help but wince as he carried a whimpering Harry down the corridor towards the dungeons. He hadn’t meant to get carried away like that; he typically had a firm hold on his emotions… And now Harry was scared to death of the headmaster, which was definitely not what Severus wanted. He was trying to make Harry feel secure and comfortable in all sorts of situations, not scared.

“You’re fine, son,” he muttered, trying in vain to remove Harry’s death grip on his robes.

He frowned. One would think that a kid who had been beaten his whole life would be more than capable of walking down a hallway without having a heart attack. This should be like heaven for him, but somehow it seemed to make him frightened. Severus didn’t understand it… He definitely wasn’t the right person for this job.

“This is my-- er, our-- home, Harry,” Severus said, stopping outside the door of his chamber and pulling out his wand. Harry’s breath caught as he almost imperceptibly loosened his grip on Severus’s robe, his eyes fixed on the door. Severus tapped the plain wooden door a couple of times, muttering a password under his breath, and it swung open to reveal a sensible, cream colored living room.

To Severus’s relief, the open, light colors seemed to have a soothing effect on Harry, who loosened his grip on Severus’s robes ever so slightly and turned to look curiously about his new environment. He cocked his head to the side a little, reaching a hand up towards the chandelier as if to catch the rays of light, and Severus allowed himself a little snort at the childish naivety.

“I’m going to set you down now, Harry,” Severus said soothingly, and, while the boy was still distracted by the light and the warm colors, he placed him gently on the couch. Harry didn’t seem to mind, only giving Severus a curious look before turning back to admire the dust he could see sparkling in the light.

Severus kept an eye on Harry even as he stepped into the kitchen. His chambers were pretty open, and only the two bedrooms and the bathroom were walled off from the rest of his suite. He was usually alone, after all, and found it a bit depressing to be closed in all the time. Now, though, the open rooms served another purpose; he was not forced to separate from Harry. There was no telling what kind of mischief the boy could get into if left to his own devices.

Severus didn’t have very much in the kitchen as far as food went, eating most of his meals in the great hall, but as he very much doubted that Harry would do well if faced with a house elf, he would have to make do. He had enough to make a bland broth, which he laced with a bit more nutrition potion, and he poured the boy a bit of cranberry juice to accompany it- in a sippy cup. He had no desire to clean a red stain out of his tan carpet.

“Harry,” he called, setting the food on a table. “Breakfast time!”

Harry stood up on the couch and looked at him questioningly, his tiny hands gripping the back of the furniture. Severus repressed the urge to scold him for treating the furniture in such a disrespectful manner. They’d move on to etiquette later. Baby steps…

“Breakfast,” he repeated, pointing to the bowl.

Harry frowned, and it was obvious to Severus that he had no idea what was being said, but in the end it didn’t matter. After giving Severus one more curious look, Harry jumped over the back of the couch and crawled across the floor to the table. He pulled himself into something resembling Severus’s stance and gazed curiously into the bowl, his nose working like a little mouse as it tried to figure out the smell. He looked up at Severus, his eyes wide, and held up his ball with a question in his eyes.

“No, Harry,” Severus said, trying to swallow down his deepening anger at the boy’s relatives. “This isn’t your treat. This is your breakfast. I’m getting your treat ready while you eat.”

That said, he lifted Harry up and set him in the smooth wooden dining chair, using his wand to make the chair a little higher before pushing it in so Harry could reach his meal. Harry wasted no time, reaching a hand out to grab the bowl and pull it close to him and lapping the broth up like a dog. Severus looked away in disgust but he couldn’t bring himself to interrupt the child’s first proper meal in Merlin knew how long. Harry wouldn’t understand the need for utensils yet, in any case. Severus was just happy not to have to fight to get him to eat.

The child properly distracted, Severus could allow himself to walk over to his bookshelf and peruse its contents. He had decided whilst still in the hospital wing that a book would be a much better treat than a ball. Harry could look through it on his own and admire the pictures, and at night Severus could read to him from it, which would help Harry connect words with pictures as well as getting used to people speaking to him, instead of around him.

Severus knew which book he was looking for, too. It was a special one which had been passed down in his family for generations. At the birth of each new Prince child, the popular stories from that year would be added to the collection. Muggle and wizarding stories alike lined its pages, some of which were a few hundred years old, though perfectly preserved through the years. Severus double checked the spells on the book to make sure it was tear resistant and would repel stains before carrying it to the kitchen.

“Finished, Harry?” Severus asked, keeping his voice mild as he picked the empty bowl up off of the table and set it on the counter, out of the way.

Harry looked at him, his eyes wide and curious, one hand still curled protectively around the sippy cup Severus had transfigured for him. Severus smiled, giving him a little pat on the head, before holding out the book he had gotten the boy. “This is your treat, son.”

Harry’s eyes widened in awe as he took the book into his hands, carefully turning the pages and staring transfixed at the pictures. When he came across the first moving picture he gave a little shout of surprise and Severus felt his pulse quicken, but when he looked Harry didn’t seem upset, only intrigued.

“After your bath I’ll read you one of those stories,” Severus promised, “and then you can have a little nap. How’s that sound?”

Harry gave him a shy look, and then, in a hoarse voice, he repeated the one word. “Sound?”

Severus stared, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Harry had just spoken. True, he was only mimicking Severus, but it was still a huge milestone, especially for the first day. He felt like giving Harry a treat again, but he didn’t want to make a big deal about the first word. It would probably actually put him behind, and Harry would try to use his milestones to take advantage of Severus and get things he wanted. In truth, Severus would need to think of a better way encourage Harry…

For now, he would just try to behave as though Harry’s speech was normal. He had learned through the years that if you acted as though you expected children to do things they were capable of more than if you treated them as though they were incompetent.

“Sounds good? Good,” he nodded decisively. “Let’s get that bath over with, then.”

He took the book gently from Harry’s hands but set it on the table where Harry could see it so he wouldn’t think it was being taken forever, and then he lead the boy by the hand down the hall to the pale blue bathroom. It was a grand thing, with a high ceiling and a shallow pool about the size of Hagrid’s pumpkin patch, two feet deep near the edges and almost four feet deep in the middle. The porcelain toilet and sink were behind a separate wall, not visible from the pool.

Harry was visibly frightened by the water. He tightened his grip on Severus’s hand, his eyes fastened on the pool. Severus sighed, realizing that it was another one of many phobias he’d have to manage. He wondered if he’d be able to handle all the problems Harry brought with him. He had no patience…

He had to stop thinking in that manner. He couldn’t question his capabilities any more. He was better for the child than a mental ward, and that was all that mattered. He might not be the ideal candidate under normal circumstances, but these were not normal circumstances and he was the choice they would have to deal with.

“Alright, how about you use the toilet first,” Snape said, taking Harry over behind the little wall to where the toilet stood.

Harry wasn’t toilet trained, of course, but Snape was able to show him the basic idea of it. The child’s aim made Severus wince a little inside but he said nothing, only casting a scourgify when Harry was done. Sadly, that was the easy part. The hard part would be getting Harry to take an actual bath.

Severus took Harry’s shirt off before transfiguring the boy’s shorts into swimming trunks, trying not to scowl when he saw the abrasions that littered the child's body. He wasn’t comfortable with the idea of bathing a naked seven year old. On second thought, he transformed his own robes into swimming trunks. Harry had already shown a fear to the water and he wasn’t eager to get his regular robes completely soaked whilst attempting to bathe the boy. The transfigurations would last two hours, tops, but that would be enough time.