For the next couple of days, Harry was very careful about how he behaved around Snape, dreading the moment when the man would suddenly, somehow, work out the truth. However, despite the few odd looks thrown in his direction, Harry eventually decided that the man did not suspect a thing.

In fact, their days mostly consisted of Snape waking Harry in the mornings, them preparing their meals together as well as undertaking the occasional, odd task around the house and garden – which Snape allowed Harry to participate in more and more as he recovered – and quiet reading together in the evenings.

The pace of the days and the atmosphere of the house was absolute bliss for Harry and Shadow; though Snape would be bossy, he always took their needs into consideration and wasn’t afraid of joining in on the tasks he set Harry himself – on the pretence that he needed to show Harry what to do.

Snape had finally been able to show Harry the rest of Manor, including the Owlery. Harry had been delighted by both Anila and Aeolus, and he often crept up to the Owlery to secretly feed and fuss over them both. There had been a couple of tricky moments in the beginning where the two resident owls had tried to prevent Hedwig from getting food, but, to Harry’s relief, Hedwig had taken to her owl companions and they to her once it was made clear that she was Harry’s owl and not Snape’s.

It amused Harry to watch Snape and his familiars; they were both very protective of their master and delighted in any affection he offered them.  Snape petted Anila more often, but Aeolus demanded his attention almost constantly, making it impossible for the man to forget the younger owl. Harry occasionally wondered how Ron’s new owl was doing and what his friend had called it, but, mostly, he was caught up in his new life at Tharabraye Manor.

Harry had received several correspondences from his friends and the remaining Marauders, mostly detailing what they had been up to recently and mentioning how much they missed having Harry with them, or, in Sirius’ case, listing what he would do to Snape if he even considered being mean to Harry. These letters always left Harry with a warm glow in his chest, and Sirius’ never failed to make him laugh with their inventiveness. He loved having people to correspond with and always wrote a reply letter with as much information he could risk putting down; mostly that he was happy and enjoying himself, despite the fact that he was not with them.

He was still stunned at how much freedom Snape allowed him. After all the chores were done, Snape would lock himself away in his Potions lab and give Harry the run of the house and grounds, with the three conditions that Harry always left a note as to where he had gone, that he would stay within the Manor grounds at all times and that he would not disturb Snape unless something life-threatening was occurring.

Several times, the Professor skipped meals by accident, but Harry always made sure to put together something and leave it on the side. Snape hadn’t thanked him for this per se, but after the first few times, there were occasions when he left the meals solely up to Harry, just as there were times when he only cooked them himself. However, Harry loved cooking for Snape, especially when he compared it to his experience with the Dursleys. Snape always would find some little way to let Harry know he appreciated it, while his relatives would simply guzzle down everything Harry had made without a word of thanks.

Harry actually found Snape’s silent appreciation very soothing; after receiving no consideration for most of his life, he would have found anyone’s overt praise unsettling at best. Snape was different – to Snape he mattered, but the man didn’t try to force his regard on Harry.

The only thing preventing Harry from relaxing into his new lifestyle was the rather sudden discovery that his magic had started behaving very oddly. Objects had started disappearing from the house, only to reappear in exactly the same place they had been to start with hours later.

Harry could tell it was his magic doing it, but he had no idea how to stop it. However, he couldn’t be too displeased as the hours he spent searching for the missing items with Snape were a great time to get to know the man, despite the fact that the Professor didn’t find it as amusing as Harry when the items turned up in unexpected places...

Like any new relationship, it had been awkward at first, but Harry’s high emotions in his first few hectic days at the Manor had enabled them to be more comfortable with each other than was expected in the early stages. This was made obvious on many occasions, but none so clearly as one Saturday in the middle of August while they were preparing dinner.

“So you mean to tell me, after all of your slaving away, locked in your bedroom with half my library books for the whole afternoon, you’ve only managed to add twelve more inches to your Transfiguration essay?”

Harry scrunched his nose up and waved the chopping knife around vaguely as he made his point. “Transfiguration’s hard, and who would want to turn oranges into doilies, anyway? Until I looked the word up in your dictionary, I didn’t even know what doilies were!”

Snape grabbed his wrist and gently guided his hand down until the knife was resting back on the chopping board. “Do pay attention, Potter. Had you been in Potions class, you would have brained Mr Weasley, and Miss Granger would have been missing an awful lot of her hair… not that it would make any difference.”

Harry sighed and gently set the knife down beside the carrots before turning back to Snape. “Just goes to show that I should pursue a career as a hair dresser instead of a Potions Master. Anyway, I have no clue about what else I can write for the essay and I’ve still got another three inches to do. It’s hopeless.” He hung his head dejectedly. He didn’t bother to add that both Shadow and Salem were out of ideas too, and Shadow knew a damn lot about Transfigurations – apparently James had been amazing at them and had talked loads about the theory when Harry was little.

Snape looked pointedly at the chopping board until Harry got the hint and started helping with the meal again. “Well, I am hardly the person to ask, but I could give you a bit of information about shape-shifting potions that you could fit in. It is possible to use potions to change food into material, so it would not be completely redundant.”

“Quite honestly, Professor, I’m willing to write anything that will fill up those three extra inches. Even Salem was out of ideas.” Harry had started using his snake as an excuse to tell Snape about some of the things that Shadow said. It was a surprisingly effective method.

Shadow, Harry and Salem were now practically inseparable; Salem always rode in Harry’s pocket or on his shoulder and Shadow always reflected himself in Harry’s glasses, save for when they were in ‘their’ bedroom and he could use the mirror. One thing Harry had discovered about Shadow was that the happier he was, the less he felt he needed to talk. He was quite like their dad in that respect, whereas Harry found he wanted to talk as much as he could when he was happy. Harry had been privately amused when he discovered he’d occasionally started using some of the more complex words, which his more literate companions used on a regular basis.

Harry pulled Salem out of his pocket and stroked him until the snake uncurled and peered up at Harry gloomily. “You aren’t going to ask me any more about that awful paper thing are you?”

Harry chuckled and cupped him in both hands. “Certainly not. I think I’ve had enough of that for a lifetime!”

“Potter, if that snake doesn’t go away within the next three seconds, he’ll find himself added to the stir fry. Apparently, they can be quite a delicacy among the Chinese.”

Salem, Harry and Shadow all turned to look at Snape with extremely offended expressions on their faces. “He can understand that, you know!”

“Indeed. May he heed it as a warning for the future, then.”

Salem gave Harry a longsuffering look. “Some days I really hate that man.” Harry smiled and slipped Salem back in his pocket, knowing that he didn’t really mean it. After all, Snape had saved Salem from the horrible shop lady – Harry had heard every dramatic detail about her from his snake. Harry picked up the wooden spatula and started stirring the sizzling vegetables already in the pan, trying not to imagine Salem sitting in between the bean shoots.

‘You aren’t just going to let him get away with that comment, are you?’ Shadow asked. He was standing off to one side with his hands on his hips and looking for all the world as if he were in the kitchen with them.

“Well, what do you expect me to do about it?” Harry murmured over the hissing of the pan. In the past couple of weeks, he had finally been able to perfect speaking to Shadow without Snape noticing – generally when there were adequate distractions that the boys could take advantage of.

‘Expect you to do? Stand up for your snake!’ Shadow struck a pose and Harry had a hard time not giggling into the vegetables.

“All right.”

Harry turned to Snape, and, feeling brave, poked him in the side with the end of the spatula. “Don’t you be so mean about my snake!”

“Hmm, and how, pray tell, should I treat him instead?” Snape asked, looking pointedly down at the wooden object in Harry’s hand. He grabbed the end and tried to push it back towards the pan, but unfortunately, Harry chose that precise moment to try and poke him again. All of a sudden, Harry felt a sharp fizz of magic jolt through him and he barely had time to brace himself.

Somehow, the end of the spatula managed to twist out of their grip, whacking the pan and sending it flying. Sauce and vegetables rained down onto the floor while the rest of it flew through the air, mostly ending up on Snape and Harry.

Harry froze. “Oops!” he said in a small voice, staring around at the carnage and strangely fighting down the urge to laugh.

‘Run for it!’ Shadow yelped when he spotted that the realisation of what had happened was slowly creeping across Snape’s face. Harry took one look and bolted.

He managed to scramble out into the hall, but his trainers, which were still drenched in the sauce, skidded on the polished wood and came out from under him. The next second, strong arms had wrapped around his waist and lifted him clean off the ground. Harry yelped and kicked a little as he was carried back into the food splattered kitchen.

Snape turned him round and plonked him on the table. “Potter,” he said, his lips twitching oddly. It looked like he was having a hard time keeping his voice controlled and flat. “Just look what you have done to my kitchen.”

Harry looked. It looked like a vegetable warzone. He couldn’t help it. He started to laugh.

He doubled over on the kitchen table and literally howled with laughter about the whole situation; the mess of vegetables, Snape’s attempts to control his facial features, and the general ridiculousness of they had managed to get into this state.

“Potter! Thanks to you, my house is covered in vegetables!”

His words just made Harry laugh even harder; his gut aching at the absurdity of their condition. It looked like Snape had even managed to get green peppers stuck in his hair, and at that moment there was no way Harry would have been able to take him seriously, even if the end of the world had been drawing near. And then, the impossible happened. Snape covered his mouth with his hand and his shoulders started to shake. Harry gasped in a couple of breaths and managed to get himself a little under control.

Looking around again, he said innocently, “Oh dear, Professor. I seem to have spoilt your dinner. Do you think it’ll be all right if we add a little salt?”

Snape choked and had to turn away his shoulders shaking all the harder. After another couple of seconds, he managed to get himself under control and turned back. His facial expression was as blank as ever, but his eyes were bright with mirth. “I think we had better have sandwiches tonight, don’t you think?”

A wave of the ebony wand and the mess completely disappeared. Harry sat up straight with a deep sigh and rubbed his sore stomach. On the inside of his glasses, Shadow was wiping tears from his eyes. And in that moment, Harry understood what it would really be like to have Snape as his father, and it felt wonderful, like a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Finally, the question that had been hanging over him for days changed from ‘if I tell Snape’ to ‘when I tell Snape’.

Harry took another deep breath and slid off the table, holding out the spatula for Snape to take. “I really am sorry about wasting all that food, it’s just, I never thought it would be that… funny.”

“Indeed.” Snape’s lips quirked and Harry’s felt a warm fizz of emotion throughout his chest. He’d never thought it would be so easy to feel truly happy.

HPSSHPSSHPSS

The weeks following the ‘window incident’ were extremely peaceful, much to Severus’ surprise. He had even managed to slide back into his usual summer routine, with a few, rather surprising benefits.

Whenever he emerged from his lab, after having lost himself in a potion for hours on end, he always discovered some meal or other waiting for him. Harry never said anything, so neither did Severus, but he always made sure to compensate with little things which Harry would barely notice; like quietly replacing ink and parchment for those friends that Potter was constantly writing to, or using magic to improve the rags that were Harry’s ‘clothes’.

There were a couple of peculiar happenings – his belongings kept randomly vanishing and reappearing, despite the fact that Severus hadn’t moved them and Harry said that he’d never touched them. There was one particularly memorable occasion when he’d invited Harry down to his lab to take a nutritive potion. He’d only turned away from the cauldron for one second to retrieve an ingredient but when he turned back, all he saw was Harry staring wide-eyed at the space where the cauldron used to be.

It had taken three hours and several searches of the house and grounds before it had turned up. On Severus’ bed. For some reason, Harry found this utterly hilarious while Severus had been less than impressed.

If the boy had had his wand, then Severus would have suspected that Harry had done it in a fit of high spirits. However, as the boy had no such means and the Potter line wasn’t powerful enough to do wandless magic on such a scale, Severus decided that this was either Black’s idea of a malicious prank, or that Albus had decided to add a new ‘feature’ to Severus’ wards, all in the name of a good joke.

Severus couldn’t force himself to be entirely angry with whoever had done it since it gave him an excuse to spend more time with Harry and get to know him better. In a detached sort of way, Severus was appalled with how soppy he was getting, but on the other hand, he didn’t care one jot. To his relief, there had been no more emotional breakdowns, and Harry was coming further out of his shell with every day that passed. The boy talked more, both to Severus and his new snake. On occasions, when he thought Severus couldn’t hear him, he even talked to himself. This caused Severus no end of amusement, despite the fact that he couldn’t hear the words.

Severus didn’t realise exactly when he had started thinking about Harry’s return to the Manor the next summer as a solid fact, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Harry liked it at Tharabraye, of that Severus was sure, and maybe next year Severus would be able to take him for a wander about the woods or show him around the village if the Death Eater threat had died down… Severus spent most of his time trying not to think about the reason why the Death Eaters had seen fit to come out of hiding, which was easier than he thought with Harry around.

Of course, the downside to Harry staying at the Manor was that the boy constantly reminded Severus of Potter’s success with Lily. That always left a bitter taste in his mouth… which was wiped away the next time he saw Harry smile. Spending time with Harry was worth any amount of pain, and if that wasn’t a soppy thought, then Severus didn’t know what was.

Severus looked up from his book and regarded Harry bent over the reviled Transfiguration essay, no doubt waffling as much as he could to fill up the last three inches. Well, it wasn’t Severus’ fault if Minerva didn’t give enough information in her classes. On the contrary, Severus gave out such a wealth of information while he was lecturing that there was no hope of any student remembering all the details. It greatly amused him to write in all the missed points at the bottom of essays and then insult the children about not even remembering to bring their own brain to class. The result; students didn’t bother him and they learnt a whole lot more than even university level students did.

He cocked his head, wondering how he would treat Harry once they got back to school. The answer came swiftly; however the hell I like. Albus has already made it clear that my spying days are over. Now, I can actually favour all of the bright students equally… while still trying to help Slytherin win the cup of course.

“Professor?”

Severus blinked. “Yes, Har… Potter?”

Harry smiled. “You looked like you wanted to say something to me.”

“No, nothing at all.” Severus hastily looked down at the open book covering his lap.

“You can call me Harry, you know. It’s not school yet and I’d… like it.”

Severus huffed a breath. “If you think I’m about to allow you to call me Severus, then you’ve got another thing coming!”

The green eyes went wide and innocent, but Severus could see mischief lurking in their depths. “Oh, I’d never presume to ask for something like that, sir… but maybe I could call you something more colloquial like… Dad.”

Severus choked. The rare volume that had been resting on his lap thumped to the floor as he stared at the impudent brat, who still had the cheek to look innocent. “Right, that does it!”

Severus stood and towered over Harry at his full height. Harry took one look and fled for the second time that evening. Severus immediately gave chase. It was a blessing to have longer legs; Severus caught him before he’d even left the sitting room.

“Disrespectful whelp! Not only do you cover my house in vegetables, but you also have the audacity to even suggest such an indignity the very same evening! This means punishment, young man!”

Severus hauled in across the room in much the same way he had earlier and dumped him on the sofa. Harry squeaked and stared up with wide eyes which – to Severus’ relief – no longer contained any fear. Severus descended on him and ran his fingers along the boy’s ribs.

Harry squirmed. “No! No! Mercy, please,” he gasped, dissolving into a fit of giggles.

“Think you deserve mercy do you? I’ll show you mercy!” Harry shrieked and Severus caught himself wondering what the holy hell had got into him. For the first time in years, he was behaving like Severus again, and not just Snape. He hadn’t truly been Severus since Lily had died, or, really, since she’d married Potter instead of him. He missed her terribly, but Harry went a long way to closing the gap that losing Lily had created.

Eventually, Severus let Harry up, pushing his long hair out of his eyes and wiping his brow as the boy squirmed out of reach. Severus raised an inquiring eyebrow.

“Well, have you learned your lesson, then?”

Harry nodded solemnly, or as solemnly as a person can while wiping tears of mirth off his cheeks. “Absolutely, sir. I shall never be disrespectful to you ever again!” The boy even had the cheek to smile!

“Hmm, good. And don’t you forget it!”

“Of course not, sir.” Harry came and settled on the couch beside him. “Phew, I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so much in my life, never mind in one evening.”

Severus immediately made a mental note to make sure Harry laughed more often, but all he said out loud was, “Let’s see how far you’ve got with your essay.”

As the boy leant over and started cheerfully explaining his logic regarding the subject, Severus wondered how he could ever have seen James Potter in the child. Harry was nothing like the man.