Later that afternoon, all four Heads of Houses were in Dumbledore’s office, along with Poppy. The Headmaster himself looked wearier than anyone present could recall.

“Are you all right, Albus?” Minerva asked in some concern, darting a glance at Poppy.

Dumbledore smiled tiredly at her. “Yes, my dear. I am well. It is just that I have had my worst imaginings confirmed, and it is… distressing.”

“Well, stop being mysterious and tell us what’s happening!” Pomona Sprout burst out anxiously, then blushed. “I mean…”

Dumbledore managed a respectable twinkle. “I understand, and I do apologize for being unnecessarily cryptic. First, though, Poppy, how is Miss Parkinson?”

The medi-witch frowned. “She was drained, Headmaster. Of not only her magic, but her life force as well. If it had continued much longer, I don’t see how she could have survived.”

“But she was rescued in time?” Professor Flitwick asked worriedly.

Poppy nodded. “It will take some time, but she will recover fully.”

“What caused this – this ‘draining’?” McGonagall demanded. “Was it the creature that attacked Severus?”

Sprout frowned. “What creature? Miss Granger said nothing about a creature. Severus, are you all right?”

Dumbledore sighed. “Perhaps we should begin at the beginning. Severus?”

Snape retold the same highly edited version that he had given the Headmaster about Nagini’s attack and subsequent effort to escape via the Chamber of Secrets. “…But what the Headmaster and Hagrid found there, I don’t know,” he finished.

All four teachers and the medi-witch turned expectantly to Dumbledore.

"When I was first summoned by Myrtle, I was alarmed to find a repeat of a pattern with which I was all too familiar. When Myrtle was killed, I was - as you know - not yet Headmaster, and I always harbored doubts about the explanation that my predecessor accepted for the events of that time. I myself was convinced that Hagrid was not involved, but that another student, who had already shown an unhealthy interest in Salazar Slytherin, had played a role. At the time, I had neither the authority nor the proof to pursue my suspicions, but shortly after becoming Headmaster I took certain... precautions... so that if history repeated itself, I would be prepared."

"Is that why I was told to bring these?" McGonagall asked, raising a pair of spectacles that was the twin of the one that now sat on the Headmaster's desk.

Albus nodded. "I managed to procure a few pairs - just in case. When Myrtle informed me that the secret passage in her lavatory had been opened, I felt it incumbent upon us to take all precautions, and I insisted Hagrid and I don the eye protection before venturing forth. When we first descended,” the Headmaster continued gravely, “it was clear that we were indeed in the Chamber of Secrets; Salazar Slytherin’s legendary hideaway was all too real. Hagrid and I cautiously advanced, only to find Nagini, Voldemort’s familiar –“ he ignored the others’ flinches as he named the Dark Lord “ – writhing in her death throes, her body nearly severed in half.”

McGonagall’s eyes were wide. “Great Merlin! What could do such a thing? That snake was enormous!”

“Salazar Slytherin’s familiar was larger still,” Dumbledore said tiredly.

“His familiar! A basilisk?” Flitwick squeaked, nearly falling off his chair. “It was still alive?”

“Very much so. And it appeared to have taken exception to Nagini’s rather hurried entrance. I suppose that Mr Potter’s magic had temporarily blinded Nagini, rendering her invulnerable to its stare, but it was more than large enough to dispatch her more, ah, directly.”

“Sweer Merlin,” Sprout breathed, ashen. “A live basilisk here in the castle! What if it had gotten free after Nagini awakened it?”

"Is that what those funny goggles are for?" Poppy peered at the pair in Minerva's hand interestedly. "Some sort of protection? I've never heard of such a thing!"

"They are quite rare, but given my earlier misgivings that Myrtle had fallen prey to a basilisk, I felt it imperative to procure some when I took on my present role. I will admit, I never expected to encounter Slytherin's familiar - I had thought that the earlier student might have, in an effort to emulate his hero, tried secretly to create a basilisk for himself. I thought he had succeeded but when the creature killed Myrtle then either he had killed it to conceal his guilt in the resultant uproar or hidden it away in the castle somewhere. It was quite a shock to encounter a huge, thousand year old creature."

"Good heavens - so that's what you found down there?"

“My apologies, Pomona. I believe I have misled you. The basilisk was not the only inhabitant of the Chamber. A student, Miss Parkinson, was also present, as was a former student – Tom Riddle.”

The others blinked in confusion. “Who?” Flitwick asked blankly.

Dumbledore waved his wand and the name “Tom Marvolo Riddle” appeared above his head. Another wave and the letters rearranged themselves.

“No!” “You Know Who?” “Oh, Merlin!” The others were loud in their dismay. “But, Albus,” Minerva protested, “are you telling us he is once more corporeal?”

“No – it is a bit more complicated than that,” Albus admitted.

McGonagall blinked. “More complicated than a millennium-old familiar and a reincarnated Dark wizard?”

“The last object in the Chamber was a small diary, which I assume Miss Parkinson somehow acquired. This diary belonged to Tom Riddle when he was a schoolboy here at Hogwarts. It was during that same time that he first discovered the Chamber, befriended Slytherin’s familiar, and – I believe – was responsible for Myrtle’s death.”

The teachers gasped in horror. “So poor little Pansy somehow read the diary and discovered the Chamber’s entrance?” Poppy guessed.

“The diary was no longer simply a book,” Dumbledore explained. “It had been – modified – by Voldemort into something more. Something Dark and unspeakable.”

“What?” Snape burst out impatiently.

“How many of you are familiar with a horcrux?” Albus asked, looking very old and very sad.

Snape frowned in thought. There was something…

“Well, I’ve never heard of such a thing,” Sprout stated bluntly.

“A horcrux is – for lack of a better explanation – an object in which a wizard places part of his soul. It requires extremely Dark magic – and a murder – to create, but by safeguarding a piece of the wizard’s soul, it makes him immortal. So long as the horcrux exists, part of the wizard’s soul does as well, and so he cannot be killed.” Dumbledore took a deep breath. “Tom Riddle made his diary into a horcrux. It was the fragment of his soul that awoke the basilisk and was sucking the life force out of Pansy.”

The others stared at him in horror. “But You Know Who never mentioned such things to his followers!” Snape protested. “Surely we in the Inner Circle would have been told!”

“Of course not,” Dumbledore shook his head. “Why would Voldemort reveal his weakness to you? If you knew his horcrux existed and destroyed it, then he would be mortal again. I am not in the least surprised he never encouraged any of his Death Eaters to explore that branch of Dark magic.”

“So is that why Voldemort wasn’t killed outright when Harry rebounded the AK back to him? Because this horcrux protected part of his soul?” Flitwick asked.

“Yes. Of course, now that the horcrux has been destroyed, he is vulnera-“

“Wait.” Snape’s voice cut off the Headmaster. “Why are you assuming he only has a single horcrux?”

Dumbledore blinked at him. “No one has ever made more than one, my boy. It requires splitting of the soul.”

Snape shrugged. “I had no idea the soul could be split at all. But if you can split it once, why not split it again? Particularly if it will make your immortality more secure?”

“Why would anyone go to such extremes?” Sprout asked wonderingly. “Wouldn’t one horcrux be enough for anyone?”

“Not for a Slytherin,” Snape snapped. “A single horcrux gives you a single point of failure for your plan. You would of course require additional back up and safety. Once you split your soul once, why stop there?”

They turned to Dumbledore, who looked stunned. “I – I must admit it never occurred to me that even Tom would create more than one horcrux,” he confessed, “but I cannot fault your logic, Severus. Tom was always a secretive and mistrustful child, though he certainly had reason to be, given his childhood. But while I worried about him – greatly – during his time here, even I never foresaw the depths of depravity to which he has sunk.”

“Splitting the soul can hardly be healthy,” Madame Pomfrey interjected tartly. “Perhaps each time he did so, he lost even more of his sanity?”

Dumbledore looked very sad. “And his humanity. Yes, that would certainly explain much.”

“But you said that at least this horcrux has been destroyed?” Sprout returned to the matter at hand. “What happened?”

“After we reached the Chamber itself and I saw the apparition of Tom, I spoke with him and quickly realized what we were dealing with. He was amused, I think, to see me so much older and so clearly upset at what he had done to himself. He wanted to ensure that I had understood his cleverness before he told the basilisk to destroy us, but happily, Hagrid’s crossbow was enough to cause even the basilisk to falter, and by the time it recovered to charge again, I had sent Hagrid and the child back to Severus. I was able to hold off the basilisk for a few moments, but once I had realized that I was dealing with a horcrux, there was only one option.” He sighed heavily. “I cast fiendfyre as soon as Hagrid was out of the Chamber. It consumed both basilisk and horcrux, and, I’m afraid, Myrtle’s lavatory as well. We will have to find her a new location.”

Flitwick managed to find his voice. “She was a Ravenclaw, I believe. I will ask the Gray Lady to speak with her. I’m sure we will find somewhere in the Tower where she will be happy.”

“So horcruxes must be destroyed by fiendfyre?” Sprout gulped, pale.

“It is perhaps the most… secure… method,” Albus agreed.

“But, Headmaster, if Severus is right and there are other horcruxes, then that means that You Know Who really will rise again,” Flitwick said, looking sick. “Is there nothing we can do?”

“Of course there is,” McGonagall spoke up impatiently. “We need to find out where the others are and destroy them, just as Albus did with the Diary. We need to – as Severus would say – remove his back ups.”

“And how are we to do that?” Poppy demanded. “Surely he has not been able to make any since being, well, defeated by Harry ten years ago. How could we find out what You Know Who did decades ago?”

“It appears that he began his activities here in Hogwarts, so we will begin our search here as well,” Minerva said stoutly. “Perhaps Horace knows something. He was the boy’s Head of House, after all.”

Dumbledore was nodding slowly. “We shall have to exercise great caution and stealth in the hunt. If Voldemort were to discover what we are attempting to do, he would stop at nothing to prevent us, and as we have seen, he still has loyal Death Eaters.” Everyone politely avoided looking at Snape.

“And how do you suggest we carry out a secret search while simultaneously attempting to run a school full of mischievous and nosy brats?” Snape demanded.

“Well –“ Dumbledore began, only to be interrupted by McGonagall.

“You are quite right, Severus. Some changes will have to occur.”

Everyone looked at the Deputy Headmistress in surprise. “Erm, changes, my dear?” Dumbledore repeated uncertainly.

She nodded firmly. “Poppy, you have long been worried about Albus, have you not?” Poppy looked from McGonagall to Dumbledore in confusion. “He is not a young man, after all, and this has been a very stressful year. A collapse is imminent, no?”

Poppy’s eyebrows rose in alarm, then the penny dropped. “Oh! Oh yes, you’re quite right, Professor. It would hardly be a surprise if he had to take a term off to recover.”

“But – but – “ Dumbledore tried to protest.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Albus. You are clearly the most knowledgeable person about these horcruxes, and if utter secrecy is so important, we can hardly trust the Aurors or any other part of Cornelius Fudge’s government.”

Even Snape was impressed with McGonagall’s plan, but he felt obliged to point out an obvious flaw. “If these horcruxes are as dangerous as the Headmaster describes, it would hardly be safe for him to track them down on his own. I mean no disrespect, Headmaster,” he said quickly, before the elderly but still amazingly powerful wizard could take offense, “but such an important task cannot be entrusted to a single person, no matter how skilled.”

“Hmmmm.” Dumbledore was clearly coming to terms with the idea. “Perhaps Sirius Black and Remus Lupin could assist. Now that Sirius is free from Azkaban, he –“

“That mutt couldn’t keep a secret if you hexed his mouth shut!” Snape snarled. “Why not just take Hagrid with you and be done with it?”

“Now, Severus, we all know you don’t like –“

“No, I do believe Severus is correct.” Again Minerva broke in. “Sirius has never shown much talent for dissembling, and he is still recovering from his time in Azkaban. While he was a loyal member of the Order and would doubtless do anything he could to safeguard Harry, his knowledge of Dark artifacts is minimal.”

“He is a Black,” Sprout pointed out. “And as the eldest son, he would be the heir…”

“He broke with his family during his adolescence and even before that point, he had refused to have much to do with the family’s… activities. I doubt he will know much of use.”

“If a knowledge of the Dark Arts is needed, I am the obvious choice,” Snape cut in coldly.

McGonagall glanced at him fondly. “You have other, equally important obligations now, Severus. What is more, Albus, we both know that you can be a trifle… impetuous… at times. You will require a companion who is able to rein you in when needed.”

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. “Just who do you have in mind? My brother?”

Minerva snorted. “This is a hunt for horcruxes, not goats. No, I think I will do nicely.”

Dumbledore’s jaw was not the only one which dropped with an audible click.

“You? But – but –“ Snape sputtered.

She turned a cool eye on him. “Yes, Severus?”

Snape gulped, and rethought his immediate reaction. Actually, the more he considered it, the more he liked it. McGonagall had hidden Slytherin reserves, and she was certainly the only person who seemed able to exert any sort of control over Dumbledore. She had more than proven her ruthlessness with The Pink Toad, and having a talented animagus and expert Transfigurer could only help in the search. What’s more, she and Riddle had been contemporaries at Hogwarts, and that might give her some additional insight into his behavior. “I think that is a wonderful idea,” he said meekly.

The others stared at him, more shocked by Snape’s docile agreement than McGonagall’s wild plan.

“But, Minerva, if you accompany me, who will run Hogwarts in my absence?” Dumbledore protested plaintively. “And how could we possibly explain both our absences?”

“With the truth,” Snape suggested, hiding an evil smirk. “Who would argue that Minerva is one of the few people who can ensure you remain under strict rest and recuperation?”

The others politely hid their smiles, while Dumbledore gave him a sour look. “But that still leaves the question of who would run Hogwarts in our absence.”

“Oh, I believe Severus and I could share the post,” Flitwick offered cheerfully. “Between the two of us we should be able to manage both the administrative and disciplinary duties.”

Snape forced himself not to show his shock. Him? Acting Headmaster? Or even Deputy Headmaster? There would surely be riots in the streets, or at least the Great Hall. And why was he being sidelined in this hunt for Dark objects? Surely he was among the most qualified –

“Severus,” Dumbledore had – as usual – correctly guessed his feelings. “Whoever else may come with me, you cannot.” He held up a hand to halt the automatic protests. “Leaving aside the very real issue of Harry’s welfare, recent events have proven that Voldemort is well aware of your true allegiances. You will be closely watched by those loyal to him, and it is likely you will be the target of further assassination attempts. Today's extraordinary events notwithstanding, you will be safer here behind Hogwarts’ wards than anywhere else. And with you and Filius sharing the Headmaster responsibilities, you will be even more attuned to the castle and better able to guard both it and yourself.”

Out-argued, Snape knew he had no choice but to accede. He nodded grumpily and slouched in his chair, arms folded. The others pretended not to notice his less-than-enthusiastic attitude.

“We shall start this summer. There is no reason to cause even more upheavals this term,” Dumbledore decided. “That will give you two several months to determine how best to divide the duties and prepare for your new roles.”

“But oh dear, that will mean we will need a new acting Head of Gryffindor as well as new professors of Transfiguration and DADA,” Sprout pointed out.

The Headmaster glanced over to where his youngest professor sat sulking. “I have a suggestion,” he offered.

Thirty seconds later, the others in the room were wincing and covering their ears as Snape shouted and threw things.

“Now, Severus,” Dumbledore finally managed to get a word in edgewise. “You know perfectly well that they are the ideal solution. If Minerva and I are off hunting for horcruxes, we can hardly have any strangers or Ministry minions lurking about.”

“But Black and Lupin?” Snape shouted. “Those two –“

“Remus will be a perfectly responsible Head of House and DADA instructor, and he will likely be able to prevent some of Sirius’ more, erm, flamboyant stunts.” At Snape’s continued glare, Dumbledore played his trump card. “And if you allow them to see you and Harry on a daily basis, I imagine I could persuade Sirius to consent to your adopting the boy.” Dumbledore was far from certain that he had any such influence over Sirius anymore, but he hoped the argument would prove persuasive for Snape.

Snape paused. He had had no intention of permitting Black and Lupin to be brought in without a fight, lest his new relationship with them – and their mutual activities – become known. On the other hand, having them here certainly suited his own plans, and he wasn’t deaf to the the arguments Dumbledore had made either. Besides, without such highly visible arm-twisting from Albus, how was he to explain Black’s willingness to allow him to adopt Potter?

“Fine!” he snapped. “But when that cretin burns down your castle or the werewolf eats his way through the Tower inhabitants, don’t come crying to me!”

“Excellent.” Dumbledore smiled happily. “And now that we are all agreed on our plans to thwart Voldemort, perhaps we can take a few moments to discuss the house elves’ complaint about excessive laundry usage?”

##

Later that evening, having checked on Pansy in the Infirmary and floo'd her parents, Snape returned to his quarters, determined to make it an early night. To his irritation, there was a knock on the door, and a smirking Minerva escorted Harry inside. "Harry wished to spend the night with you," the witch informed him, pushing forward a suddenly shy child. "As it is nearly curfew, I thought it best to walk down with him."

Snape huffed with irritation at the high handed way that McGonagall had commandeered his evening. "And if I -"

"I said," the witch interrupted him, giving him the Look that made even Dumbledore think twice, "that Harry wished to spend the night in his room here."

A mental image of Umbridge rose unbidden to Snape's mind and he cleared his throat. "Ah. Well, Potter knows perfectly well he has free run of his rooms. He does not require my permission to come here."

For the first time, the brat looked up, a smile of relief brightening his expression. "Thanks, Da!"

McGonagall patted the boy on the shoulder and gave a small nod to Snape. "Good night then."

"Thanks for bringing me, Professor!" Harry called after the witch.

Snape regarded the small figure with disfavor. It had been a long day and his skin still crawled with the memory of Nagini's touch. Between the horcrux revelations and his duty to first Pansy and then the rest of his House, he hadn't even had time to change his clothes since the attack. He'd merely cast a quick repair charm where her fangs had ripped his robe. And now he had yet another child to look after before he could attend to his own needs. He forced back a grumble. It had been a long day for Harry too, and the boy was still emotionally fragile. No wonder he wanted to retreat to his guardian for further reassurance and -

The fragile child in question yawned widely. "I'm really tired, Da. 'S it okay if I just go to sleep?"

Snape blinked. "You do not need to talk about today's events?"

Harry shrugged. "Mostly I didn't want t'have to be in the dorm when Ron had his nightmares. When he dreams of spiders he practically screams the place down, and he said that Nagooni was even worse than a spider. I figure he's gonna have bad dreams all night long."

Snape was torn between concern at the boy's callousness and pride at his Slytherin approach. "I... see. Yes, you may go to bed."

"Okay. G'night, Da," Harry gave him a quick hug then vanished into his room.

Snape blinked then, shrugging, headed to his own bedroom. A long scrubbing in the shower, in the hottest water he could stand, mostly erased the feel of the snake's scales from his skin and he collapsed into bed, determined to pretend this day had never happened.

He managed a few hours' sleep before the small noise at his side sent him bolt upright, one hand grabbing for his wand while the other flew up to protect his neck. As his mind cleared and he recalled that Nagini was well and truly dead - and cremated - his eyes fell upon the small, tousel-headed figure standing uncertainly by his bed.

" 'M sorry," Harry mumbled. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Snape lowered his wand and dragged a hand down his weary face. "No, of course not. Why would you imagine that entering my bedroom at - " he checked "- almost two in the morning would wake me?"

Harry hung his head. "I can go back to my room."

"What is it, Potter? I am awake now, so you might as well explain your presence here," Snape ordered.

"I just wanted to say sorry."

Snape bit back a curse. He was really too tired for this. "What have you done now?" he demanded, imagining the worst. Insomniac Harry deciding to try to invent a new potion and raiding his stores. Or going to procure an unauthorized dose of dreamless sleep and knocking over an entire shelf of laboriously crafted potions. Or -

"I meant for before."

Dear Wizarding Parents Magazine, When woken in the dead of night by an incoherent child, is it considered poor form to Stun said child, levitate him back to bed, and tell him in the morning that it was all a nightmare?

"Potter, what in Merlin's name are you talking about?"

Harry fidgeted. He had messed this up so badly! First he had chickened out about the apology when he had first come down, babbling something about Ron as his excuse for being there. Then, having decided to talk to his da before breakfast, his conscience had nagged him so badly that sleep was impossible. And as he lay in bed, his busily working mind served up one horrible "what if" scenario after another until he thought he would burst into terrified tears. So he had blundered in here, thinking it best to get the apology over with, only to have realized - too late - that he had disturbed his da's much-needed rest.

"Harry James Potter!" Snape thundered at him. "WHERE ARE YOUR SLIPPERS?"

Harry looked down at his bare toes. "Oh. Erm..."

Snape rolled his eyes. It was winter, in Scotland, and they lived in a stone castle. In the dungeon. And this little dunderhead was wandering around with neither a robe nor slippers as if he were trotting around a grass shack in Tahiti. "Get up here," he ordered, flipping back his blankets before the idiot child caught pneumonia and Poppy hexed him for inadequate supervision.

Harry straightened up with a broad smile. His da was so nice! He scrambled into the warm bed.

"FU-" Snape managed to bite back the rest of the oath as the brat shoved his icy toes under the duvet. He grabbed for his wand and cast a warming charm on the boy before he could do any more damage.

Harry relaxed, flopping bonelessly onto his da's large bed. It felt so good when the charm's heat curled around him!

"Potter!" Snape poked the boy in the ribs when the child showed an alarming tendency to doze off. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh!" Harry bit his lip. "I - I couldn't sleep," he started, haltingly.

Snape felt guilty. Of course the boy couldn't sleep. He'd come face to face with Voldemort's familiar! Naturally he kept worrying about what might have happened had Nagini chosen to attack him instead of fleeing. "You need not worry," he said as gently as he could manage at 2 AM. "The snake is dead as are the other, ah, inhabitants of the Chamber. They can never harm you."

Harry twisted around to stare at him in shock. "I'm not worried about me!" he protested with the unconscious arrogance of an 11 year old (and a Potter, Snape snarled to himself). "I keep thinkin' of what that snake nearly did to you." At Snape's look of utter shock - the boy was being kept from sleep by fears about his welfare? - Harry elaborated. "I mean, I keep remembering how mean it was an' how it had already scratched up your throat an' what would've happened if I hadn't come back right then an' what if it hadn't been playing with its food first an what if -"

"Diction, Mr Potter. This casual slurring of your words needs to stop," Snape said automatically, cutting off the flow before it could give him the willies. He had managed to stop the worst of the shaking in the shower by brutally suppressing all memories of that encounter, but the boy's words were too evocative and once again he could feel Nagini's fangs stroking lightly down his throat.

"Sorry," Harry replied, just as automatically, "but it was just really scary," he ended with a sniffle. "I mean, what if something had happened to you?"

Snape stopped rubbing his throat and looked down at the brat. "You need not worry," he reassured him. "You will never have to return to the Dursleys, remember? You would likely go to live with your godfather and -"

He was nonplused when Harry's eyes filled with tears. "I don't want to live with Padfoot!" Harry wailed. "I want to live with you!" He hurled himself at Severus and the Potion Master felt his breastbone creak in protest.

"Yes, yes, of course you will live with me," he tried to reason with the sobbing child. "We were only talking about what would happen if I were to die." Oddly enough, this only made the brat cry harder. Obviously there was more to calming children down than he had realized - not that he had ever really tried very hard before. "Potter. Potter! Harry! I assure you that I will do my utmost not to die," he offered.

That seemed to help a bit, so he continued in that vein. "I am well aware that your dogfather is hardly likely to provide an environment conducive to proper discipline and nutrition. Do you suppose I would willingly permit you to reside with him?" Harry managed a tearful chuckle, and heartened, Snape pressed on. "Not to mention the amount of grading I still have to do. I doubt I would be allowed to die whilst dunderheaded children still exist at this school."

Harry managed to wipe his eyes and unlock his death grip on his da enough to look up. "But I w's a terrible son," he confided miserably. "I don't know why you want to keep me."

Snape struggled not to let his emotions show as Harry referred to himself in that astonishing way. "What are you blithering about?" he demanded sharply, his confused emotions expressing themselves, as always, as anger.

Harry sniffled again. "After the snake. When it left, I just ran after it," he whispered, hanging his head.

Snape frowned. "Yes, and you were smacked for such foolishness." Was the boy angry about the swat? He hadn't thought that in all the excitement, any of the children had particularly noticed the correction.

"Well, yeah," Harry admitted. "But that's not the bad part. I mean, I left you. You're always worried about me and if I'm okay, and you always make sure to check on me. Even in the lav, practically the first thing you asked us was if we were okay. But I didn't. I only asked after you asked me. I shouldn't have left like that. I should've stayed and made sure you were okay and called Madame Pomfrey for you and stuff like that." He started to snivel again. "It's not that I don't love you; I was just bein' stupid..."

The warmth that blossomed in Snape's chest at Harry's artless, casual declaration of love was impossible to ignore. He pulled the boy close, his voice rough as he said, "Foolish child. Why would I be cross with you for doing what I had told you to do? Have I not repeatedly told you that I am the adult and that it is my responsibility to look at after you; it is not your responsibility to look after me. I do not want you to feel that caring for me is an obligation. You are a child," he ignored Harry's half-hearted, reflexive bristling at the term, "and you should not feel you must be solicitous of my welfare. That is what I do, not you."

Harry wiggled closer. His da always knew what to say to make him feel better, though he still wasn't sure he shouldn't have some role in caring for his da. "Can't we look after each other?" he asked plaintively. "I mean, when I get bigger an' all, then I could take care of you, yeah?"

His da gave him another squeeze. "Idiot," he grumbled, but his voice was all scratchy and soft, so Harry knew he really meant something very different. "Did you not save my life today? You are a very powerful wizard, Harry."

Harry beamed. "I am?" he repeated, wanting to hear his da say it again.

"Yes. And that is why you will have extra lessons over the summer to ensure that you are learning how to control your power," Snape informed him drily, certain that this would direct Harry's attention away from the day's terrifying events and into a completely new stream.

It did. "Daaaaaaaaaa!" Harry howled in protest. "No! No summer classes!"

"Yes," he said heartlessly. "All summer long." At Harry's pout, he smirked and said, "Think how jealous Miss Granger will be."

That perked Harry up briefly. "Yeah," he agreed, but then his face fell. "But Ron an' all the guys will take the mickey."

"Perhaps not when they realize all the Defense spells, hexes, and weaponized Potions material you will be learning," Snape retorted coolly, even as he lay back down.

Automatically, Harry followed suit. "Hexes? I'll learn hexes? And DADA stuff too? Really? And weaponized Potions? Wow! That sounds really cool! An' dueling? Will there be dueling?" he asked excitedly, snuggling beneath the blankets.

"Mm. If you work hard."

"Wow. The guys will be more jealous than Hermione when they hear that," Harry gloated. "Erm, Da - d'you think maybe sometimes some of my friends could come over and be part of the lessons too?" he asked hopefully.

"If your behavior warrants such a reward." Snape's eyes were closed.

"Huh." Harry's eyelids started to droop too. "That'll be a - a - " he had to pause for a wide yawn "- a fun summer... Da, will we see Padfoot an' Moony at all?" he asked drowsily, a thought striking him.

Snape's eyes flew open as he realized that Black and Lupin would have to move into Hogwarts, probably soon after this term ended. "Oh, yes. I'm certain you will," he replied gloomily.

Harry grinned wickedly, even though he didn't bother to open his eyes. "Good, 'cause then I can practice all my new spells by pranking Padfoot."

Snape's eyes widened and he recalculated the benefits of having the mutt and werewolf nearby, especially with Harry displaying heretofore unsuspected Slytherin tendencies. "Hmmm. An excellent way to gain practical experience," he finally agreed, but the brat was already fast asleep.

Snape smirked as he thought of watching Harry prank his godfather over and over again, all summer long. Naturally Black woud be too sickeningly affectionate to remonstrate with the brat, let alone retaliate. Hmmmmm. This definitely had potential, especially if certain of his own boyhood notes found their way into Harry's hands. Snape decided that adopting a Potter might have been a very good idea after all.

The next morning, he had second thoughts, as he woke up, shivering, to find the brat had stolen not only his pillow but his blankets and was now happily snoozing away in a warm little cocoon, while Snape - the rightful owner of the bed and linens - froze at his side. He debated waking up the wretch with an Aguamenti but decided that would only mean the brat would get the shower first too. He rose with what dignity he could muster while blue and shivering, cast a quick heating charm on himself, and stalked to the bathroom with all the outraged sensitivity of an offended cat.