"Look Dad, look!" Harry Potter shrilled, he was just turned five and had opened his gift from Uncle Sirius. It was a brand-new, top-of-the-line mini Jetstream broomstick, the kind they made for the Quidditch players' children. Harry unwrapped the shiny mahogany broomstick with its silver and gold twigs trimmed perfectly even and the word Jetstream scripted in silver paint on the handle and rushed over to wave it in his father's face.

Severus took one look at the broomstick and his adopted son and groaned. "Very nice, Harry. Now why don't you open the rest of your presents? You've got another from your Uncle Remus there."

"Okay, Daddy, but this one's the bestest!" the little boy cried, then ran over to see what Remus had gotten him. The two Aurors weren't really his uncles, but his dad's two best friends, but Harry had always called them that, they'd known him since he was a little baby, before his real daddy James had died and he'd been adopted by Severus Snape.

"Let's see you top that, Remus," challenged Sirius, grinning challengingly at his partner. "Told you he'd love it."

"Of course he does, Siri," Remus rolled his eyes at his friend. "He's five, they're all broomstick mad at that age."

Severus was giving his Animagus friend a stern frown. "Sirius Orion Black, what part of do not buy Harry a broomstick did you not understand?"

"Aww, Sev, c'mon . . ."

"No, don't give me that, Black. I have my reasons for not wanting him flying until he's six. Do you have any idea how many patients I get every year his age that I need to set broken bones or stitch up or do surgery on for broomstick accidents? And all because some parent or relative thinks its cute to get their darling a broomstick for Christmas, or their birthday, or whatever. Just last week I had a little girl with a compound fracture of her arm and twenty-five stitches in her face from crashing headfirst into an oak tree, she had her older brother take the safety charms off her broom so she could fly faster, and nearly killed herself!" Severus lectured. Sometimes he could just throttle his easy-going friend, who thought it was perfectly all right to disregard Snape's wishes when it came to Harry if he didn't agree with them occasionally.

"Look, Sev, I'm sorry, but I saw it in the shop and it just looked so perfect, and I couldn't resist. He's probably a natural on a broom, you know, since James was. I'll teach him to fly, okay, Sev?" Sirius managed to look like a guilty little puppy and a mischievous grown man at the same time, a feat that only he could accomplish.

"Fine, Black, but that broom better have every safety charm in the book woven into it, or else!"

"It does, I swear! I would never risk Harry's life that way, Sev!" Sirius said, feeling a bit hurt.

"Thank you, Uncle Remus! I love my new art set," Harry said, coming over and giving his blond werewolf uncle a big hug.

"You're welcome, scamp," Remus smiled, picking the little boy up and snuggling him on his lap. "You can draw me a picture with it as soon as you've got time."

"I've got lots of time, since it's summer and there's no school, Moony," Harry informed him, smiling so that his missing front tooth showed. "What kind of picture would you like?"

"Anything you feel like drawing, Harry. I'm sure it'll be a masterpiece, kid. I'll hang it in my office with the other ones you made me last time," the werewolf promised.

"You mean you got an art wall in your office like Daddy does?" the five-year-old asked.

"Yup. And half the women I work with think I've got a kid hidden away somewhere," chuckled Remus. "Someday I'm going to have to take you to work with me, imp, and let ‘em meet you."

"Cool! When?"

"Uh, not right now. I've got a big case coming up. But maybe in a week or two."

"Daddy, did you hear that? Moony says I can go to work with him like a grown-up."

"Oh he does, does he? Isn't he forgetting something?"

"What?" asked his son.

"To ask permission of your father first," Severus reminded.

"Oh, I was going to, Sev," Remus said sheepishly. "So, is that okay with you?"

"Fine, just do it on one of my days off, all right?" the Master Healer said. "That way I can get some time to myself for a bit." There were days he didn't mind raising one rambunctious little boy by himself and other days when he wondered how he was going to manage another day alone without Lily.

"Sure, no problem, Sev. Just let me know what day's good for you. I'll give Harry the VIP tour and take him to lunch and whatnot."

"Thank you, Remus," Severus said.

"Dad, can I have another piece of cake?" Harry wheedled.

"Harry, don't you think you've had enough sweets for one day?" the Master Healer began, trying to head off the inevitable sugar high.

"No. Please, Daddy, please? It's my birthday." Harry begged shamelessly, giving Severus a heart-melting stare from his beautiful green eyes.

"Yeah, Sev, it's the kid's birthday," Sirius put in. "So let him OD on cake if he wants."

"Sure, you can say that Padfoot. You aren't the one who'll be up with him all night when he's got an upset stomach from too much chocolate cake." Severus sighed. "All right, scamp. But only one more piece." Harry yelled and ran over to take another slice of cake from the buffet. I just know I'm going to regret this.

"Sev, lighten up, for Merlin's sake. Don't you remember what it's like to be a kid and eat yourself sick on your birthday?" Sirius teased, then gasped at a sharp elbow in the ribs from Remus. The Animagus yelped and would have given Remus what-for, until he recalled that Severus probably had never been able to make himself sick eating any sweets when he was growing up, because he never had any money for them. "Oh, right. Sorry, Sev," he apologized sincerely.

Severus waved off the other wizard's apology. "I can remembering wishing for that, Sirus. Nevertheless, I really don't want to deal with a very hyper five-year-old at eleven o'clock tonight, which is why I'm trying to do some damage control now."

After eating an enormous, at least to a five-year-old it was enormous piece of chocolate cake, Harry took his new broom and went over to where Sirius was sitting on the couch and asked, "Uncle Sirius, can you teach me how to fly?"

"You bet your magic socks I will, kid." Sirius laughed, ruffling Harry's hair. "I was no slouch on a broom myself once. And your father was even better."

Harry stared at the Master Healer. "You can fly better than Uncle Sirius, Dad?"

"No. Uncle Sirius means your other daddy, the one who's in heaven," Severus corrected softly. He could fly well, but he wasn't a fanatic, the way Sirius or James had been. "He used to play Seeker for Gryffindor at school."

"Was he good?" Harry wanted to know.

"Yeah, James was an ace," Sirius answered, grinning. "Could outfly the wind if he put his mind to it."

"Could I, d'you think, Padfoot?"

"Uh . . .maybe someday, kid, but right now you gotta take it easy," Sirius cautioned at Severus's warning glare. "First you learn how to fly the right way, and then, when you're a little older, I can teach you how to fly like a Seeker."

"Aww . . .why not now? I'm a big boy."

"I know, but first you have to learn the basics," Sirius stressed.

"Can you show me today? Please?"

Sirius looked at Severus.

The Master Healer nodded. "Go ahead, take him outside and show him how to hover, at least. He'll keep pestering you till you do. I'll clean up in here while you're giving him the lesson, Padfoot."

"Okay, Harry, get your Jetstream and let's have a little lesson," Sirius told him, smiling almost as eagerly as his "nephew".

Harry bolted over to his broomstick and snatched it up.

* * * * * *

Twenty-five minutes later, Harry returned, beaming from ear to ear. "Guess what, Daddy? Uncle Sirius showed me how to hover about ten feet from the ground and fly a little in a circle. He says I'm a natural flyer."

"Very good, Harry." Severus praised, though inwardly he groaned. Not another one, dear sweet Merlin! "Now, put all your presents away and then come sit quietly on the couch for a while, it's time for a rest."

"Aww, Daddy, I'm not tired," Harry pouted.

Severus just looked at him. "Harry, do as I say. Now, little boy."

The little boy pouted a bit longer, but then he went to do as he was told. The last thing he wanted was to get in trouble on his birthday. It took ten minutes for him to put away all his presents, which included an art set, a child's potion's set, new sneakers and clothes, books, and a few toys. By then Harry was a little tired and willing to crawl up on the couch and sprawl in the Master Healer's lap.

Severus put an arm about the messy-haired little imp, and Harry snuggled into the familiar white hospital robe and closed his eyes. He was more tired than he had thought, after all. The three men smiled indulgently at the sleeping youngster, then summoned some more coffee and donuts over to the couch.

"I really ought to kill you, Padfoot, for getting him that broomstick." Snape remarked sourly. "Now I'm going to have to invent a whole new set of rules for it."

"You and your rules, Sev." Sirius rolled his eyes. "Why can't you just let the kid be a kid?"

"Because, Black, this particular kid is a trouble magnet, just like James and you were. And I want him to survive till adulthood."

"Sev, buddy, you really need to lighten up a little." Sirius chuckled. "Learn to let your hair down and have fun."

Severus cocked an eyebrow at him. "Oh, I'll have fun all right, Sirius. You're due for your yearly physical next week, aren't you?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Oh, let's just say that I'll have a few vaccinations you need to get updated on, old boy," replied the Master Healer with a wicked smirk.

Sirius blanched. "No . . .oh no, Sev! Please, you know how I hate needles . . .!"

"Sorry, but it's for your own good. You don't want to contract pyromantic flu and die, do you?"

"Yes!"

"Padfoot, it'll only sting for a second. Don't be such a baby."

"Severus, I'd rather contract a deadly disease than have you give me a needle in my arse, damn you!"

Severus looked at Remus. "Looks like I'll have to put him in a Body Bind again, huh, Moony?"

Remus nodded. "Same as last time. I would have thought he'd have grown out of it by now, Sev."

"Some never do, Remus," the Master Healer said sagely. Then he leaned over and whispered, "Don't forget the Calming Draught just before he leaves and make sure you get his wand too."

Remus nodded, for last time Sirius had gone for his yearly at Snape's office with his wand, he had nearly set the place on fire, trying to duel Severus and the office staff when it came time for the vaccinations.

"You two are evil!" Sirius grumbled, sulking. "You know damn good and well why I don't like needles, Severus Snape!"

"Yes, I know all about the time when that Muggle vet picked you up as a kid when you got stuck in your dog form and gave you ten needles at the same time, but Sirius, I'm not a vet, I'm a Healer, and I know how to give vaccinations so they don't hurt all that much."

"Don't care," sulked the Auror. "I still hate ‘em."

"Here, have another piece of cake," the Master Healer said. "Your appointment's not until next Tuesday, so you have all week to prepare yourself."

Sirius brightened at that and began to wolf down another piece of cake, vowing to be absent from London next Tuesday.

* * * * * *

Later on that night, Severus was woken from a sound sleep by a little voice crying, "Daddy, I don't feel good. My tummy hurts."

"Ah, I knew it!" groaned the Master Healer, rising from his warm bed to go and see his son in the room just down the hall. "I told Sirius that was one chocolate frog too many." He summoned a pink Stomach Soother with a quick gesture and headed into Harry's room.

The little boy was sitting up in bed, groaning and clutching his stomach, tears filling his eyes. "Dad, my tummy hurts real bad!"

"Probably from eating too many sweets, scamp." Severus said, drawing his wand and performing a quick diagnostic. "Yes, that's what I figured. A bad case of indigestion and gas. Come here," he took the child on his lap and coaxed the potion down the little boy's throat. It began to work almost immediately, and Harry sighed in relief.

"Better now, son?"

"Yeah. You're the best Healer, Dad."

Severus smiled and tucked his son back into bed.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Can I go flying tomorrow?"

"We'll see. Maybe after I'm done with my brewing. But first we'll need to go over some rules. All right?"

"Mmmhmm. . . .Night, Daddy. Love you."

"Love you too. Go to sleep." Severus urged, and remained with his son until he fell asleep.

The next morning, Harry was perfectly fine, his stomach was back to normal, and he was raring to go outside and fly some more. He woke up his poor father twice asking if it was time to go flying yet, until the exasperated Severus threatened to take the broomstick away and not return it until Harry was fifteen if he didn't quite waking him up at six AM on one of the rare days Severus had where he could sleep a bit later than usual.

Today was Wednesday, and on Wednesday he didn't have office hours, but had brewing hours instead. This was the day he brewed up prescriptions for patients if he didn't have them or made new batches of common healing potions for St. Mungos, like Pain Relievers, Stomach Soothers, Calming Draughts, Anti-Nausea Drafts, Fever Reducers, and Muscle Relievers. Today he was making up a Stress Relieving Elixir for Mrs. Barnes, a lady who suffered from anxiety attacks, and a Rash Away Salve for another patient with eczema, and a batch of dandelion-chamomile tea for several of his new mothers who had colicky babies or babies with chronic diarrhea. All of that would take half of a day to brew, but afterwards Severus would be able to take Harry outside and fly with him for a while before supper and bathtime and bed.

He allowed himself to sleep in until nine, which was as late as he could permit, given the potions he had to brew. Luckily none of them were all that difficult, simply a bit time consuming, especially the tea, which had to steep for several hours in order to gain the full effectiveness. He would start that one first, and then begin brewing the others according to the length of time they needed to simmer or steep.

When he rose and dressed, putting on his black Potion Master's robes, since he would be working in the lab and needed the protection spells that were woven into that particular set of robes, Harry came and tapped on his door. "D-a-a-d! Are you up yet? I'm hungry!"

"Give me a minute, Mr. Impatience and I'll be right out." Severus ordered, doing up the last set of buttons.

When emerged from the bedroom, he found his son in the hallway, dressed in his favorite pair of blue denims and a shirt with a picture of a silver snake on it that said Snakes Rule! His little trainers were untied and Severus knelt to tie them before his son tripped and ended up face first on the ground. "Come on, brat," he teased. "Let's comb that mop of yours and then we can have some breakfast."

Harry pouted, his lower lip sticking out adorably. "Don' wanna comb my hair."

"I wasn't asking." Severus stated firmly, familiar with his son's dislikes, and at the top of that list was having his hair cut and combed. He placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and steered the sulky boy into the bathroom, set him on the counter, and began the arduous process of trying to bring order to Harry's hair, which was wild and forever getting tangled and sticking up all over. Even trimmed, it refused to behave.

The five-year-old squirmed. "Ow, Daddy! You're pulling!"

"Harry, sit still." Sev ordered, trying to untangle a clump of hair at the back of his son's head that looked like it had gotten frosting in it.

Harry wriggled, wincing. "Daddy, oww!" he cried as Severus dragged the comb through a rather knotted part. "I hate getting my hair combed! I hate it!" He kicked the counter angrily.

"Harry James Severus, that's enough!" Severus snapped. "If you'd quit fussing, I'd be done already." He caught his son's foot as Harry started to swing it again. "Stop it, young man, or else you'll get fifteen minutes in time out." He resumed the dreaded chore, wetting his son's unruly hair with water in a vain attempt to make it lie flat.

Harry sulked and sniffled, muttering something about his father being mean. Severus ignored him, finally succeeding in taming the wayward ebony locks somewhat, enough so Harry didn't look like he'd gotten electrocuted. "There! Done." He set Harry on his feet. "What would you like for breakfast, scamp?"

Harry shrugged. "Umm . . .bacon and pancakes, I guess. Then can we go flying, Daddy? Please? Please?"

"We'll discuss the rules for flying after breakfast," Severus said, shepherding his son into the kitchen.

Harry quickly got the silverware and the plates while Sev cooked the bacon and the pancakes. The little boy carefully set the table, putting out the butter and syrup as well as the container of milk. Severus insisted Harry drink plenty of milk, and he usually had tea in the morning.

Severus levitated the plate of pancakes to the table and then the bacon. He cut up Harry's food, poured the child a glass of milk, and then fixed his own plate. He ate leisurely, not having to rush for once.

In contrast, his son practically inhaled his food, eating so quickly that Severus had to tell him to slow down. "Chew and swallow, Harry, before you choke."

"I am, sir," his son muttered through a mouthful of pancake.

"No talking with your mouth full either." Sev reprimanded, resuming his own breakfast. He knew quite well why Harry was speed eating, and was determined that his son learn that rushing wouldn't get him anywhere.

Once breakfast was done and the dishes washed, dried, and put away, Sev and Harry went into the den, where Sev proceeded to explain the rules for broomsticks, which he had invented just last night.

"Rule number one, you never ever go flying without an adult-specifically an adult you know, like me, Uncle Sirius, or Uncle Remus.

"Rule number two, you never leave the yard while flying.

"Rule number three, no tricks or fooling around while you're on the broom. You fly safely and sitting up straight.

"Rule number four, no friends are allowed to fly or borrow your broom unless I allow it.

"Are you clear on all those rules, Harry James Severus?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. I'll have you repeat them for me in a minute. Now then, the consequences for breaking those rules are as follows: For breaking rules number three and four, you'll get your broom taken away for a weekend at least, plus a twenty minute time-out. For breaking rules number one and two, you'll get your broom taken away for a week at least, be grounded, and get a spanking."

Harry gaped at him. "You'd really spank me?" he repeated, for spankings were rare in his house. The last time he could recall getting spanked he had been three.

"I would, because if you leave the yard or fly without an adult, you're risking your life, and that is not going to be tolerated by me, little boy." Severus said sternly. "And here's my rule for a spanking, no more than six swats with my hand only. Except if you fight me, I'll add another one. I'll probably never spank you on your bare behind either," the Healer added, recalling the awful days of his childhood, when his drunken father had whipped his bare backside with a belt for just about everything. He had vowed when he became Harry's father that his son would never know the pain and abuse he had growing up, and so he was wary of using physical chastisement, and in fact almost never did so.

However, he fixed his son with a stern glare and said, "So do yourself a favor, Harry, and don't break any of those rules. I want you to enjoy your broom, but I also want you to be safe, scamp. Too many little children get hurt because they don't follow safety rules and I don't want you to end up in the hospital. Understand?"

"Yes, Daddy. I get it." He gazed at Severus hopefully. "Now can we go flying, Dad?"

Severus considered. He really ought to start his brewing now, so he wasn't up all night, but Harry had a way of using his eyes-eyes that were reminiscent of his late wife-that always tugged at the Healer's heartstrings, and Severus found it very hard to resist them. "Very well, scamp. We'll go for a short flight, only fifteen minutes, though, because then I have to get busy making potions. Go get your broom."

Harry practically leaped off the couch, yelling, "Yippee, we're going flying!"

Severus just shook his head, for it seemed that Harry had been bitten by the flying bug. He wondered how long it was going to last, and feared that if he were anything like James, it would never leave, and he would be obsessed with flying forever.

Severus enjoyed a good flight himself, but it was not paramount he be on his broom night and day, the way it had been with James Potter, who flew everyday, rain or shine, unless he was too badly injured to get out of bed. James had intended to try out for the national Quidditch team once Voldemort had been defeated, but unfortunately, he had died before he could realize that dream.

Harry returned a few minutes later, smirking like the Chesire Cat and holding his Jetstream. "Okay, Daddy, I'm ready!" he was practically walking on air.

Severus gave him a smile and summoned his own broom, a classic Lightningstreak, from the closet by the door. "Let's go, imp."

Harry bolted out the back door, yelling like a banshee.

By the time Severus got outside, Harry was holding the broom horizontally and looking up impatiently at the house. "Can I get on, Dad?"

"Yes." Severus said, watching as the little boy threw a leg over the broom and sat down easily. Ah, Padfoot was right. He's a natural born flyer, Merlin help us all. Now I'll have to watch him like a hawk, because he'll be wanting to fly night and day. The Healer mounted his own broom, then told Harry to hover, watching how the Jetstream behaved until he was satisfied the broom had the regulation safety charms upon it-meaning it would never go higher than ten feet and no faster than a golf cart, and if a child fell off, it would create a protective bubble about the child and the broomstick to prevent serious injury.

"Okay, Harry. Let's see some nice circles." Severus ordered, and began flying slowly in a large loop about the yard, Harry flying next to him.

The little boy was not the slightest bit nervous or afraid, Severus noted with a flash of pride. He handled the broom as if he'd been flying since he was born, and Severus allowed him to go a bit faster than he normally would with a first time flyer, and also showed him how to do small corkscrew spirals.

"Whee! This is so much fun!" Harry cried, spiraling up and down and then circling. He loved the feel of the wind in his hair and all around him, and the sensation of being above the earth and able to see for miles. Well, he could see four houses down the end of Aspen Avenue.

But all too soon, the fifteen minutes Severus had allotted were up and Harry had to land and put his broom away, since his father had potions to brew for his patients. The youngster dragged his feet as they headed inside, for the last thing he wanted to do was to quit flying, but he knew that if he made a fuss, Severus wouldn't take him flying again this afternoon.

Severus paused at the door to his lab, which Harry was forbidden to enter unless Severus allowed him inside, and almost never when the Healer brewed potions, since some of the fumes could be toxic to a child's lungs and trachea. "Now, I'm going to be in here for a few hours, Harry, though I'll take a break for lunch, so I want you to promise me you'll be good and amuse yourself quietly until I'm done in here. After that, we can have supper and then I'll take you on a longer flight before your bath. How does that sound?"

"Good. I wish you were done now," Harry sighed in longing.

"Time flies when you're busy, scamp." His father smirked, and ruffled his hair. "Now get, and leave me in peace."

Harry obeyed, going into his room to get his favorite stuffed panther, Inky, and climbing onto his bed and reading one of the new books Uncle Al had sent from Hogwarts for a present. It was called The Tales of Beedle the Bard and though some of the stories were a bit beyond Harry's five-year-old comprehension, he found he could read the beginning tales without too much trouble.

He read happily for about an hour and a half, then set the book aside for Severus to read later at bedtime-it was a long book-and went to play with his new toys and Inky for a bit. Then when he grew tired of that, he opened his new art set and proceeded to draw a bunch of pictures for both his uncles and his father.

Yet all the time he was doing so, he felt the urge to run to the closet and get on the Jetstream. His first taste of flying had been wonderful and he couldn't wait for more. His palms itched to hold the handle of a broomstick instead of a crayon and he wondered how much longer it was going to be before lunch.

Finally, lunchtime arrived, and Severus came out of his lab to eat something and fix his son something as well. "I see you've been busy drawing, son." He said upon seeing the stack of drawings beside his plate. "All these, for me?" There were six pictures, some of Harry and himself and some with Padfoot and Moony, but the common theme in all of them was that they were all flying. "Thank you, Harry. They're excellent. Maybe you ought to become an artist when you grow up."

"Nope. I wanna play Quidditch, so then I could fly all I want." Harry disagreed.

Severus bit back a groan and prayed that Harry would change his mind once he was older. He'd patched up James from far too many injuries to ever encourage Harry to take up Quidditch as a profession. He quickly fixed the new pictures to the "art wall" which was a big wall in the kitchen where Harry posted all of his art work, then said, "Any requests for lunch?"

"Yeah, I want peanut butter and grape jam, Daddy. And apples too."

After lunch, Severus returned to his lab for the final stages of the brewing process, which was crucial to the potions, and Harry was told to play for another two hours and then Severus would take him flying.

Harry shuffled his feet impatiently. Two hours was so long! Practically forever! And he didn't want to draw, or read, or do anything like that any longer. What he really wanted to do was fly.

He resisted the lure of the broomstick for as long as he could, then he gave in when he saw some kids a little older than he was flying as he watched through the kitchen window. Tempted, he fell and went and got the broom from the closet.

Bad idea, Harry. Bad idea, his conscience scolded, but Harry ignored it and caressed the handle reverently. All he had intended to do was hold the broom, but once more temptation reared its head and suddenly he found himself outside in the backyard, the broom tucked under an arm.

He stood there, looking around and spotting the same group of youngsters, they looked to be about seven and eight, flying casually on their brooms.

"Hey, kid!" said one, flying down and hovering just above Harry's head. "Where'd you get the Jetstream? That's prime, that is!" The speaker was a blond haired boy around eight, and he was eyeing the Jetstream longingly.

"My uncle gave it to me for my birthday," Harry answered. "My name's Harry."

"Jasper Malone. The blond haired little girl off to the right's my sister Jenny and the other two kids are Ollie, he's got dark brown hair and Mark, he's the one in the red T-shirt." Jasper introduced the others, then looked at Harry and said, "You're Healer Sev's kid, aintcha?"

"Yeah, that's right. Why?"

Jasper shrugged. "No reason. "Cept your dad's my Healer. He fixed me after I crashed my broom six months ago. So, d'you want to come flying with us, Harry?"

"I . . .uh . . ."Harry bit his lip, for he wanted to go flying more than anything. "I promised my dad I wouldn't fly without him."

"Oh, too bad then." Jasper shrugged.

Then one of the other boys chimed in, "Aww, poor little baby. You have to hold your daddy's hand."

Harry felt himself flush. "I'm not a baby."

"No?" taunted the dark-haired boy. "Then why dontcha come flying with us? I'll tell you why, ‘cause you're too much of a coward. Coward crybaby!"

"Stop it, Ollie! He doesn't have to come if he doesn't want to." Jenny cried.

Harry was struggling to keep his temper.

"Aww, does the wittle baby want his baba?" laughed the other boy.

That did it. No one called Harry Potter a coward crybaby. "Shut up!" he yelled, hopping on his broom. "I can too fly with you! Just watch me." He kicked off from the ground and hovered beside Jasper. He was so mad that he totally forgot Severus's rules and quickly followed the older boy when he departed. He was determined to prove to these big kids that he too could fly just as good as they could, maybe better.

The Jetstream glided up about ten feet and then would go no further.

Jasper raised an eyebrow. "Huh. Safety charms, eh? Well, that figures, you're only little."

"I'm five!" Harry snapped, indignant. "I go to school, I'm not a little baby."

"We're seven and Jazz is eight," said Jenny, smiling. "Come on, Harry, let's go for a flight ‘round the block."

"Okay," Harry agreed. He prayed Severus just kept brewing and didn't check up on him the way he usually did.

Then he turned about and followed the other kids, their brooms might be able to go farther and faster, but his was a rare breed, and expensive and without the safety charms the Jetstream could outfly any of their brooms any day of the week. They were just jealous they weren't flying a Jetstream, Harry thought, flying next to Jenny, who seemed nicer than the other two boys.

"Where are we going?" he asked her.

"Around. We can't leave the neighborhood, but we're allowed to go through it," she explained. She gazed at Harry's broom in longing. "Race ya?"

Harry nodded, and soon the two were engaged in a playful race, chasing each other through the clouds and laughing at the way the wind tickled their cheeks. It was great fun.

The boys soon caught on and insisted on racing too, but after twenty minutes, they tired of that game and went looking for something else to amuse themselves. Below them in a yard was an old woman, hanging out laundry on a clothesline.

"Let's play a prank on that old witch," suggested Mark. "She's always yelling at us to keep off her grass and not trample her petunias, the dried up old stick."

"What did ya have in mind?" asked Jasper.

"Just stealing some of her panties," snickered Mark, pointing to some rosebud ones flapping in the breeze.

"Capital, mate!" cheered Ollie.

"I don't understand. What do you want an old lady's panties for?" Harry asked, confused.

"For the prank, silly! Duh!" snorted Ollie. "We'll ditch ‘em when we come to a pool of water or whatever and throw ‘em in."

"But how will she find them?"

"Who cares, that's not our problem." Jasper shrugged. "You in or out?"

"Umm . . ." Harry thought and wished that he could say no and not be thought a coward. But the other boys were looking at him and Harry knew that he would never live it down if he said no. "Okay, I'm in."

"Good. Now, you go down and snatch the panties from the line, you're the smallest and probably the fastest as well," ordered Jasper.

Harry gulped and prayed that he wouldn't be arrested for stealing. Except it wasn't stealing since they were going to give it back, Harry rationalized. Or leave it where she could find it. His hands tightened on the handle of the mahogany broom. Then he waited till the woman was gone before he darted over there and snatched a pair of rosebud panties from the line and flew up waving it triumphantly in the air.

"Yes! I got it!"

The old woman came out of the house, shaking a fist at them and calling them all kinds of rude names. They ignored her and flew away, laughing.

A few feet further on they came to a small fountain, a birdbath really, in someone else's yard.

Jasper directed Harry to let the panties go into the water, and Harry did so. Luckily, they floated around. "You done good, kid," he said approvingly. "C'mon, let's beat it, before somebody notices us."

They flew several loops and spirals, and then had fun flying inbetween the trees and over people's houses, though Harry couldn't go that high and had to circle around. They went down by the old hermit, Mr. Pritchard and made his stupid rat terrier go nuts when they swooped over it.

Ollie had a package of dungbombs and they tossed them in old man Spinner's yard, he had some nasty big dogs and had once beaten Jasper with a stick for trespassing on his property. "Payback, ya bloody old fart!" the boys cheered when the bombs went off, though they made a terrible stench and Harry thought he was going to barf right there. He quickly flew out of range, accompanied by Jenny, who also was a bit green. The dogs whined and rolled in the dirt, plainly affected by the horrid smell.

The wizard himself came out, all hunchbacked, wearing a tattered old robe, shaking his staff at them and yelling, "Clear off, ye hooligans, afore I tan yore hides, ye bloody nuisances!"

The boys jeered at him and then flew off, laughing.

Next they visited Meliora the Mystic's house, it was a tall blue building with white trim and had windchimes all over that tinkled sweet and eerie melodies and crystals and feathers hung in the trees.

"She talks to dead people," Jasper told Harry in a hushed tone. "Can see spirits n'stuff. She can tell when you're about to die."

"An' her cat can walk through walls," Jenny added, shivering dramatically.

"Are you gonna prank her?" Harry asked uneasily.

All of them shook their head. "No way! She could set her haunts on us if we did that!" Mark hissed.

""Sides, she's nice, she gives us sweets and cookies," added Ollie. "Though she looks kinda weird, like she ain't all there. Wears a long blue dress like they did in the Middle Ages and her hair's long too, blond and wispy and she's got a big joo-wel on a chain round her neck so's she can talk to the spirits."

They flew twice round her house and tried to peek in the windows, hoping to see some ghosts, but they were all covered by beaded curtains and lace drapes.

Harry had never known there were so many interesting people in his neighborhood, for he had never roamed around it without an adult.

Harry was having the time of his life, hanging out with the big kids, and had quite forgotten the time and the fact that Severus would be boiling mad when he discovered his son missing. He had never been invited to follow the older kids before, and found it a once in a lifetime opportunity. He felt extremely grown-up and happy that they allowed him to stay, until they came to a large grassy area which Harry recognized as the park he and his dad sometimes went to.

Suddenly, Jenny looked up and cried, "What's that big black thing coming at us?" She pointed to the sky.

Harry squinted and could just make out the familiar figure, still wearing his Potion Master's robe, and Harry felt his heart plummet to his shoes. "That's my father," he told his new friends, swallowing hard.

"Uh oh. He looks mad enough to spit fire, Harry," Jenny said, trembling a little.

"Yeah, bloody hell, but you're dead, Snape," Jasper said commiseratingly.

Harry said nothing, he wanted to turn around and fly away as fast as he could, but he was too afraid to move, so all he could do was watch as the dark figure of his very irate father zoomed toward him, looking as if he was going to strangle his son.

As Severus flew towards his disobedient child, looking like the wrath of an avenging angel, his mind replayed the events of the last hour and a half.

He had first noticed Harry was missing when he exited his lab a mere half an hour after entering it to get himself a drink of water and use the bathroom. Harry's bedroom was directly across from the bathroom, and Severus had snuck a quick look inside to check on his son before going back to his potions, only to discover the child was not in it. So he headed down the hallway to the den, expecting to find Harry watching TV or coloring at the small table. But the boy was not there either.

Beginning to feel the first flutterings of panic seize him, Severus called loudly, "Harry? Where are you? Come here where I can see you."

He waited, their house was not that large and Harry should have no trouble hearing him, but no little boy appeared in response to his call. Now the fluttering was increased to the sensation of madly beating wings and the panic was making his chest hurt. "Harry James Severus! Come here, right now!"

Harry ought to know by the sound of his voice and the use of his three names that Severus was not fooling around.

Still no response.

Severus dashed out into the yard, calling frantically. But he could not see Harry anywhere. He had feared the boy had gotten hurt outside and was lying injured somewhere, but the dark-haired boy was nowhere to be found. Bloody damn hell, where is he? Severus swore to himself, returning inside to check the broom closet, for the broom was the quickest way Harry could have gone off the property. If the broom were there, then he would assume his son had been kidnapped, and place a call to Moony and Padfoot so they could put out an alert and start a search. But if not . . .then his son's little backside was going to be very sorry.

He yanked open the closet.

Inside rested his own broom, leaning forlornly against the wall. The Jetstream was missing.

Severus hit himself in the forehead. I knew this was too good to be true. Damn it, Harry James Severus! How could you do this to me, after I went over all the rules and consequences? Did you think this was some kind of game?

He took his broom from the closet and returned to his lab to check the last batches he had simmering. Hopefully, he could find his rebellious scamp before his potions were finished brewing. Otherwise they'd be ruined and a whole day wasted. Severus felt his temper start boiling. That irresponsible, reckless, disobedient, little brat! Just wait till I find him! I'm going to ground his arse till he's fifteen and blister it too!

He slammed the back door of his house so hard it nearly fell off the hinges. Then he took three calming breaths and removed his wand from its holder on his hip. "Point me Harry James Severus Potter," he intoned, casting a Four Points locator spell.

His wand lit up and he could feel a firm tug, drawing him down the opposite end of Aspen Avenue, where the wizarding residences were located. Aspen Avenue was a long street that ended in a culdesac, and many wizarding families lived upon it, one reason why Severus had chosen to move here with his family back when he had married Lily. He had wanted Harry to grow up with friends and neighbors nearby, and most of the families on this block were his patients. And while he was reasonably certain Harry would not be in any danger from any of the people that lived here, that did not mean he condoned his five-year-old wandering all over the neighborhood unsupervised.

He mounted his broom and took off, flying just above the rooftops of the houses, searching both the sky and the ground for his son.

The spell drew him steadily down the street, and he decided to speed his progress along by asking those wizards and witches out in their yards if they had seen a small dark-haired boy on a broom recently.

He spotted the elderly Mrs. Alder in her yard, bringing in her laundry from the line. He glided down to a brief landing. "Good afternoon, Maura, I was wondering if you've seen a small dark-haired boy with glasses riding a broom recently?"

Maura Alder halted, her washing hovering in the air just before her laundry basket. "Good afternoon, Healer Snape. I'm so frazzled now I can hardly think. Some group of little troublemakers came and stole one of my . . .err. . .undergarments right off my line and dropped it in the Stevens' birdbath."

"I'm sorry to hear that, but have you seen a small boy with glasses on a broom recently?" Severus repeated.

"Uh, now that I think about it, the one who snitched my . . .unmentionables looked like that, but surely not, Healer Sev. You've taught your son better than that." She pointed down the street. "I think they flew off that way."

He continued down the street and the next house he came to, the Pritchard residence, also reported seeing several children flying not a scant hour ago, according to the elderly wizard, they had terrified his rat terrier Max so badly he dug a hole under the porch and refused to come out.

Grouchy old Spinner reported seeing the same group of hooligans pestering him and vowed to take a switch to the next little brat who dared invade his property. "Kids these days, they got no respect for anything, Healer. Why, back in my day, if a kid behaved like that there Jasper and his friends, he'd have gotten a good whipping."

Severus merely nodded, not up to debating the finer points of disciplining with Spinner, who was old-fashioned, and believed like Snape's father Tobias did, that a whipping cured a child of everything. "Would you happen to know where they went?"

"Yup. Back up t' other side of the street."

"Thank you, Arnold." Severus's hand gripped his broomstick hard as he fought to keep his temper. It seemed that his son was progressing quickly in the prank department. First it had been harassing old ladies and now it was dungbombs.

You and I are going to have a long talk when we get home, young man.

He could feel the locator charm tugging on him insistently, and he knew he was getting close.

Sure enough, as he approached the park, he could hear the shrill sound of children laughing and then he saw five kids on broomsticks hovering in the vicinity. He knew several of them, they had all visited the practice for their annual check-ups, and been seen by either himself or his partner, Matthew Morgan. His eyes scanned the group and then he spotted the slight dark-haired boy inbetween the girl and another boy, hovering with ease on the Jetstream.

Snape increased his speed, relief mingled with anger coursing through him. From what he could see, his reckless runaway child was unharmed, and that relieved him immensely, for he had feared finding Harry lying in a heap on the ground, broken and bleeding, like so many other children his age did when first learning to fly. But very soon, there was going to be one sorry little boy in the Snape household, Severus vowed.

He flew straight for the group of would-be Marauders, his face set in a thunderous scowl reminiscent of Tobias at his worst. The little girl, Jennifer Malone, he thought her name was, looked up and spotted him and went white as a marble pillar, proof that he had mastered the Snape glare to perfection. She turned and said something to her friends, and they all shrank and flew backwards, except for Harry, who simply remained hovering.

Severus used the time it took to reach Harry practicing controlled breathing and reminding himself that his goal was to punish his son only, not abuse him. He counted to ten. Then he did it again.

He circled the little group, and said, in a soft yet utterly disapproving voice, "Harry James Severus Potter, land that broom this instant, young man! Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in, little boy?"

"I'm sorry, Daddy!" Harry sniffled, tears springing to his eyes. "I was only gonna fly for a little bit, kind of!"

"You aren't supposed to be flying at all without me, mister! Now land!" Severus ordered, and then pointed his own broom towards the ground and landed.

Harry did as he was told, sniffling and whimpering, from the tone of his dad's voice, he knew he was now in the worst trouble he'd ever been in. His father was furious and it was only then that Harry recalled what punishment he would get for flying the Jetstream alone without supervision. No, oh no, I don't wanna lose my broom, I just got it. Or get spanked either. He looked up at his father, who was waiting with his hands on his hips, scowling severely. He tried giving his dad his best pleading puppy dog eyes, but Severus did not soften.

The other children waited, holding their breath, unable to take their eyes off the little family drama playing out in front of them.

Harry dragged his feet as he came towards the Master Healer, the image of a naughty child about to receive a very well-deserved punishment, the Jetstream tucked under an arm. He halted about a foot from Severus and cried softly, "I-I didn't mean to fly my broom without permission, sir!"

"No? Then why did you?"

"B'cause I . . .I didn't want the big kids to think I w-was a crybaby coward," he sniffled.

"Well, I hope this forbidden flight was worth the spanking you're going to get, Mr. Potter. And the loss of your broom for two weeks and being grounded too." Severus said, hardening his heart at the child's pleading gaze. "Come here."

Harry shook his head. "No, please, sir! I don't wanna get spanked, please!"

"You were warned, Harry, what would happen if you disobeyed me. One."

Harry knew he was doomed. Once Severus started counting, it meant he was out of options and he was going to get punished one way or another. He reluctantly walked the last foot over to Severus, who held out his hand for the Jetstream first.

Harry surrendered his broom. Severus spoke a word and the broom vanished, sent back to the broom closet.

"Where'd it go?" Harry cried.

"Back where it belongs, in the closet, where it will stay until you've learned your lesson," the Master Healer said grimly. Then he took his son by the arm and led him over to a convenient park bench. The little boy was crying softly, but Snape forced himself to ignore it. He dreaded this even more than his son, truth be told, but he had to follow through with his rules, and Harry could have gotten seriously injured or lost flying off alone like that.

Snape sat down, picked up his son, and placed him over his knee. The youngster struggled a bit, but Severus growled, "Lie still, before you get seven swats." His son froze and Severus lifted his hand.

Harry yelped, he had forgotten how much his daddy's hand stung, and what was worse, all the kids were watching, and the embarrassment was almost as bad as the swats themselves. He tried to be quiet, but the smacks hurt and he bawled, thinking regretfully, Now they'll really think I'm a crybaby! Oww! I'm never gonna be able to sit again. He squirmed to no avail, Severus held him firmly, until the last smack had been given, and by then Harry was crying loudly.

"Never ever do anything like this again, am I understood?"

Harry sobbed out something that sounded like a "Yes, sir!" and then Sev turned him over and hugged him, letting the child cry into his shoulder. He was astonished at how much Harry was crying and feared he had hit the boy too hard, until he saw the silent ring of childrens' faces watching, and then he understood why his son was howling so much. It was from embarrassment as much as from a stinging behind. Now Severus felt bad spanking him so quickly, but he had forgotten that they had an audience, he'd been so angry.

But seeing the other children reminded him that Harry was not the only miscreant here.

"All of you, get on home, and you can all expect a Floo call from me informing your parents of your abominable behavior, Jasper and Jennifer Malone, Oliver Thornton, and Marcus Flint."

There was an immediate outcry from the rest of the children.

"No, don't do that, Healer Snape! Our parents will kill us!" wailed Jasper, who was under a pending sentence already for getting into trouble earlier in the week. "It was just pranks, sir!"

"Nobody got hurt," protested Jenny sadly.

"Old man Spinner deserved it!" put in Marcus defiantly, though he was quaking inside. His mother would no doubt be waiting with a paddle when he got home, once she found out what he had done.

"We were just havin' fun, Healer Snape!" Ollie cried, swiping the threatened tears from his eyes.

"At the expense of elderly people, young man," Severus scolded sternly. "Your pranks were rude and not at all amusing, to them or to me. You should know better by now, and I hope your parents impress upon you the fact that such behavior is unacceptable, like I did with my son here." He patted Harry's back, the little boy was still sobbing into his shirt, not daring to raise his head. "Now, go home!"

The children obeyed, flying off slowly, ashamed and sullen, plainly dreading going home. They had learned, as had Harry, the folly of rousing the wrath of a Master Healer.

Severus turned to his son, who was still bawling, and said quietly, "Hush, scamp. They're gone and it's done and over with. I'm sorry you made me punish you like that, but you really deserved it." He picked up his broom and decided to Apparate home rather than fly.

He entered the house, Harry still clinging to him, and sent his broom into the closet, then walked into the den and sat down. He was unhappy and his son was also, and so for five minutes he did nothing save hold and rock his child, the act serving to calm them both down. Eventually, Harry quit crying and sat up, his green eyes luminous with tears, feeling very ashamed and embarrassed. "That really hurt, Dad. It was like the worst spanking ever."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?" Thank God he doesn't know what a real whipping feels like. And he never will, either. "Well, you did the worst thing ever when you flew off like that alone, young man. Do you realize what could have happened to you, Harry? You could have been stolen away or gotten lost or crashed and been hurt and no one would have known where you were. And we might never have seen you again-me, or Moony, or Padfoot. You would have been a lost boy, missing like those children on the advertisements on television."

"Like the ones that ask Have You Seen This Child?" Harry sniffed, rubbing his bottom and wincing.

"Yes. And all of those children have been missing for years and their parents and uncles and aunts miss them terribly, just like I would if you went missing, Harry mine."

"Would you cry forever and ever, like when Mummy died?"

Severus nodded. "I would, child, so for the love of Merlin and all the saints, don't ever do anything like this again."

"‘Kay. I'm sorry." Harry said sincerely, for he didn't want to become a lost boy and make his daddy and Moony and Padfoot cry forever for missing him. He also didn't want another spanking, his bottom still stung. "My bum still hurts," he whined.

"Yes, it'll sting for a little, as a reminder." Severus said, knowing full well that it would be gone in an hour or less. He set the little boy on the couch and said, "I still have some things to discuss with you about your behavior, Mr. Potter, but first I need to Floo the parents of those other children, for it's only fair that they also pay the consequences of their actions, not just you."

Then he went and knelt by the fireplace, a pinch of Floo powder in his hand, and proceeded to call all the parents of the youngsters that had been with Harry. It was not something he normally would have done, but in this case, he felt that they should also bear the consequences for their rude pranks, it would teach his son that no one was above the rules. All of the parents were dismayed and shocked, well some of them were shocked, at their children's behavior and vowed to show them the error of their ways as soon as they arrived home. Severus did not doubt that more than a few would be nursing sore bottoms like Harry.

He turned back to his son, who had been sitting quietly all this time, and said, "You know that what you did when you were with those other children was wrong, don't you, Harry?"

"Yes, sir." The little boy hung his head.

"Stealing an old lady's underwear, frightening Mr. Pritchard's dog half to death, and throwing dungbombs in Mr. Spinner's yard, all of those pranks were rude and mean and not at all like you, Harry James Severus. I'm very disappointed in you, little boy. You know better than that."

Harry burst into tears again. He hated it when Severus was disappointed in him, it hurt him worse than a spanking. "M' sorry! I just wanted to have fun with the . . .the big kids. They-they thought it was funny."

"Did you?"

Harry shook his head. "Uh . . .a little, I guess. But not really. I felt bad for the old witch and the dogs. But they were all doing it, Dad."

"Harry, if someone is doing something you know is wrong, even if they're a friend, I want you to stop and think and then walk away. I know you're a little young for this talk, and it's hard to understand, but you shouldn't do something-especially something you know is wrong-just because other people are doing it. Otherwise you are just as guilty and as bad as the ones who began it in the first place. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir. I'm sorry I snitched that old witch's panties. Did she ever find them?"

"Yes, she did. Her name is Mrs. Alder, by the way, and as part of your punishment, I want you to apologize to her and to Mr. Pritchard and Mr. Spinner. Perhaps you might help them do some small chores as well, like feeding their dogs and helping Maura hang her laundry. I'll take you there later on. Right now, your broom is mine for two weeks, and you're grounded as well."

Harry groaned. "Does that mean no TV and an early bedtime?"

"Yes. Your new bedtime is seven-thirty. Now then, I need to check up on my potions, hopefully they're still viable and after that we'll have supper and then you can speak with Mrs. Alder and the others. When we get home, it'll be time for your bath and then bed."

"Do I still get a bedtime story?"

"Yes, scamp. You'll always have a story from me, even when you're bad," the Master Healer told him. "How's your bottom, Harry?"

Harry considered. "It's almost better now."

Severus heaved a sigh of relief. "Good. Don't test me like that again, son." Then he hugged Harry to him and whispered, "All's forgiven, now go play while I finish up in my lab and cook dinner."

Harry hugged him for a long moment, then said, "I still love you, Dad, even if you did spank me awful hard and stuff."

"Thank you, Harry," Severus said softly. "I love you too, scamp. You are so like your mother."

Harry smiled, for his mother was an angel now and that meant she was special and so was he.

Then Sev put him down and Harry went to get Inky, his beloved stuffed panther, Lily's last gift to her son, and tell him what had happened that afternoon.

After supper that night, Severus took Harry back to the three elderly neighbors whom he had pranked and had his son tell them he was sorry and would never do anything like that again. He also offered to do any small chores they would like for a half-an-hour over the weekend.

Maura Alder, who turned out to be a very nice lady, agreed to have Harry come and weed her front walk and help her hang up her laundry. Mr. Pritchard allowed Harry to come and feed and walk Max, who didn't get enough exercise, since Mr. Pritchard was over a hundred and had trouble keeping up with the active young dog. Even Mr. Spinner, the terror of the neighborhood children for his temper and his dislike of obnoxious and disrespectful youngsters, agreed to have Harry come and help him tidy up his house, once Harry had told him that he was awful sorry and hadn't actually thrown a dungbomb at all, and how Severus had spanked him really hard and grounded him and taken away his broom.

"Humph, well, you deserved it, boy, and I'm glad t'see there're still parents nowadays who care enough t'punish their kids properly, ‘stead of makin' excuses and whatnot and letting their kids run wild."

"Yes, sir. Uh, what will I be doing for you, sir?"

"Y'know how to dust? And wash dishes and that sort o' thing?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir. And I can make my own bed and set the table by myself too."

"Oh, y'can, can you? I might just add that t'the list, then," Spinner said, then winked at Severus to show he was only teasing.

"I'll bring him by on the weekend, around eleven o'clock in the morning, if that's agreeable with you, Arnold?"

"Aye, it is. I'll make ‘im work a bit so's he learns his lesson, Healer Snape." Spinner promised.

"Fair enough, we'll see you this weekend," the Healer said, then he took Harry home and gave him a bath and put him to bed.

The two days and the weekend that followed were some of the longest days of Harry's young life. About the only good thing he could say about them was that after the weekend of doing chores for the neighbors, he was so tired that he was happy he could go to sleep at seven-thirty instead of eight-thirty, and he had also discovered that the three wizards were not the odd ogres the other children thought they were.

Mrs. Alder was very sweet and enjoyed baking and making salads, she sent some cranberry-orange scones and a Waldorf salad home with Harry that night for supper and dessert. Mr. Pritchard enjoyed gardening and showed Harry his prize-winning Queen's Yellow Phoenix roses-a bright yellow rose with a flame-orange phoenix imprint inside it. He gave Harry one to show Severus. And Mr. Spinner, for all of his gruff manner, collected the most unusual specimens of rocks, magical and ordinary, and let Harry see and hold some of them. And his two dogs, General and Captain, were not mean at all once you fed them a dog biscuit.

On Sunday night, Sirius and Remus visited, continuing a long-standing tradition of having dinner with Severus, Harry, and Lily, when she was alive. That night, Severus cooked a simple meal of roasted chicken, buttered noodles, broccoli, and rolls.

Of course, Sirius asked Harry how he liked his broomstick, and Harry promptly told him everything that had happened since his birthday.

"Sev, you actually spanked him?" Sirius demanded, knowing full well of his friend's aversion to such punishment. "You didn't use a slipper, did you?"

"Of course not! I gave him six smacks with my hand. I'm not like your mother and father, Sirius. Or James's either."

"But it really hurt, Uncle Siri," Harry chimed in, trying to get some sympathy. "I couldn't sit down for like the whole weekend and I cried forever. And Dad spanked me right in front of all those other kids and I was really upset."

"Sev, you didn't!" gasped the Auror. He knew quite well Harry was exaggerating the severity of his punishment, but he decided to play along. "Aww, you poor thing! C'mere, kid, and let me see if there are any marks." He picked up Harry and pretended to inspect his bottom.

"Sirius, for the love of Merlin!" Remus sighed.

Severus scowled. "You're unbelievable, Black! You ought to know that I'd never hit him that hard."

"Sure I do, but you didn't really spank the poor kid in public, did you?"

"Uh . . .yes, I did. Unintentionally. I forgot the other children were there, I was so angry with him I didn't think. I felt bad afterwards, but what's done is done."

Sirius hugged his favorite nephew and said, "You've got a pretty strict dad there, Harry, but he loves you, y'know."

"I know." Harry gave Severus a sweet smile. "He was afraid I'd get lost and then all of you would miss me forever." Then he heaved a martyred sigh. " ‘Cept I wish I could fly my broom now. Two weeks is forever!"

All the adult wizards chuckled at that. "Well, scamp, once you get your broom back, you'll really appreciate it," Remus remarked. "Like I did mine after my dad took mine away once."

Harry nodded. "Yup. Getting my broom taken away was like a really bad thing. The worst! Well, b'sides the spanking."

Sirius grimaced. "Oh, I can think of a few things worse than that, but not many."

"Like what?" Harry asked, puzzled.

"Like needles," replied the Animagus with a shudder.

Harry cocked his head. "You're afraid of needles, Padfoot? Like Stevie Perkins?"

"Who's that?"

"A kid my age that Dad says is terrible to give shots to. He bit Dad three times already, til he put him in a Body Bind."

"Oh. Can't say I blame him," Sirius said feelingly.

"But Padfoot, needles don't really hurt that bad. Dad makes sure and he puts a salve on to make the sting go away after. I don't even cry when Dad gives me them."

Sirius shuddered. "Please, Harry! I hate them! They're an evil invention."

"But why?"

"Because when I was a kid, around thirteen, I had just learned how to change forms, and I became a dog and was, uh, running around during the summer, near Diagon Alley and some man the Muggles call a dog catcher snatched me up in some net and brought me to a place called a pound."

"Really? That's like jail for dogs."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"How come you didn't just change back to a person?"

"Uh, because I was too nervous and how would I explain doing magic like that? Nobody knew I was an Animagus then except my friends, not even my parents or my little brother. So I was stuck in that dog prison and while I was there they had a Muggle vet come and examine me. It was awful. He shoved the most horrid potions down my throat and gave me ten needles . . .ten . . .in my bum and my neck and even stuck one in my paw! And that one he taped there."

"That one was an IV," Severus put in. "It probably contained some antibiotics and vitamins."

"I don't care what it contained, it hurt like a bitch!" Sirius cried. "I tried to bite it out, but then he tied my mouth shut."

"Watch your mouth, Siri," Remus scolded, jerking his head at Harry.

"Oops. Sorry. Harry, don't ever repeat what I just said."

"I won't. I don't wanna eat soap." Harry told him. "How'd you escape?"

"Uh, I didn't. I had to wait till someone adopted me," Sirius admitted. "Which happened quite soon afterwards, ‘cause I know how to make them beg, ‘specially the ladies."

"He was in there for maybe a day and a few hours," chuckled Remus. "Until some little girl thought he was too cute to resist, and took him home."

"Actually we never made it to her house," Sirius grinned. "I slipped my way out of her hold on me and ran away. And by then I was desperate and managed to transform back into a boy. I was tired and feeling sick to my stomach and I still hurt from all those bloody shots. And that's why I hate needles and I'm not getting one on Tuesday."

That's what YOU think, Severus snorted softly. He would have to check Sirius's chart, but from what he recalled, he thought Sirius needed boosters of pyromantic flu and another of dragon pox, since the original vaccine had not been as strong when it was first invented and in order to ensure that he didn't catch the disease, Severus had to give him a repeat vaccination, as he did to any who had been born in that year. Severus had to repeat the vaccinations himself, though his partner Healer Morgan, gave him the shots. Still, he knew better than to mention that to Sirius, though he did whisper in Remus's ear that he should keep an eye on Sirius the day of his appointment.

* * * * * *

On Tuesday, Sirius came to work the same as usual, Flooing into the Auror department and tried to make time run backwards, with a spell of his own invention, but it failed. He worked on a few cases, but couldn't concentrate and kept thinking about the trip to the Healer's. Finally, after he had written the wrong name five times on his incident report sheet, and imagining Severus torturing him with dozens of shiny long needles, he couldn't take it any more. He stuffed his paperwork back in his desk and headed outside, pretending he was going for a breath of fresh air.

Remus lifted his head from his desk and demanded, "Where are you going, Sirius? Your lunch isn't until another half-an-hour."

"Out for a breather. It's too stuffy in there," he replied nonchalantly.

Remus merely nodded.

Sirius hid a smile and then proceeded to walk out the door. But just before he could Apparate, a hand gripped his arm.

"And just where are you off to, Black?" demanded his boss, Auror Captain Mad-Eye Moody.

"Off to, sir?" Sirius asked, doing his level best to act all innocent. "Nowhere, sir."

"No? Then why were you trying to Apparate, hmm?" Moody frowned hard at Sirius, who winced. Moody's glares were almost as bad as Snape's.

"Forgot a file back at my house, sir."

"And you were going to get it, huh?" said Moody suspiciously. "You're a terrible liar, Black."

"Me? Sir, I don't understand . . ."

"Oh, I think you do. You were planning on doing a runner, skipping out on your annual physical, weren't you?"

"I . . .I don't need one. I'm perfectly healthy."

"Department requirements, Black. Everyone gets one every year, no exceptions." Moody said firmly, still keeping tight hold of Sirius's elbow. "You're not up to date with your vaccinations."

"So what? Who needs ‘em."

"You do. Come on, Black, surely you can't be afraid of a little needle?" Moody began. "I've seen you take a Cutting Curse and a partial Cruciatus without so much as a whimper."

"That's different." Sirius insisted stubbornly. "They didn't hurt like shots do."

Moody stared at him. "Black, pull yourself together and quit acting like a ninny. You're twenty-five, for Merlin's sake! Now march yourself back inside and get back to work. You've got another half-an-hour before your appointment with Healer Snape."

"No! No, please, sir. I'd rather get demoted."

"Black, stop it! You're nuts." And with that, Moody steered the panicky Sirius back inside, where he instructed Remus to keep an eye on the other wizard.

Remus handed Sirius a butterbeer, into which he'd placed a Calming Draught, and while the Auror was drinking, snitched his wand out of his holder. Sirius didn't even know it was gone. Remus waited for the Calming Draught to take effect, then led the now-quiet Sirius to a fireplace and Flooed to Snape's office with his friend.

Sirius remained calm enough until the receptionist called, "Mr. Black, Master Healer Snape will see you now."

Sirius backed up, and would have run away had not Remus grabbed his shoulder. "Oh no you don't. Get in there, Siri."

"I'm not sick! I don't need Sev to tell me what I already know."

"Quit making an ass of yourself, Sirius! There are little kids watching," Remus hissed.

"Mummy, that man's a'scared of the Healer just like me," said a little girl loudly, and all the parents bit their lips to keep from laughing.

Sirius subsided then and allowed himself to be led into the exam room. Remus stepped out and guarded the door, until a medi-witch entered with a tray of potions and two needles, which she set up on the counter, followed by Severus and Harry.

Sirius took one glance at the needles arrayed upon the tray and yelped, "Sev, you never said there'd be two of them!" he started to try climbing the wall, but the walls were smooth. "I can't do this! If you try to come over here, I'll hex you good!" threatened the desperate wizard. He groped around for his wand. "Where the bloody hell's my wand?"

"Remus has it," Severus answered. "Calm down, Sirius."

"Moony, you traitor!"

"Relax, Sirius," Severus ordered, speaking in an even soothing tone. "These vaccinations aren't for you, they're for Harry. He's due for them as well."

"They're not mine?" Sirius relaxed a fraction.

No, but the next ones are, thought the Healer, biting back a smirk. "No. I thought it might help if you watched me give the vaccinations to someone, so you can see it really doesn't hurt and you don't have to be afraid. Harry volunteered."

"Sev, you're evil! Making a kid go through that." Sirius shuddered.

"It's not so bad, Padfoot." Harry said calmly. "It only stings for a second."

"That's what you think!"

Harry shook his head. "I'll be okay." He looked at his father.

"Go ahead, Harry. Show your uncle how it's done."

Harry quickly removed his jeans and underwear, then leaned over the exam table, his bottom bared.

Sirius winced and trembled.

Severus quickly filled a needle with the vaccine and approached his son.

"Harry, run, I'll hold him until you escape," Sirius urged.

"Padfoot, I'm okay." Harry reassured.

"You won't be in a minute." Sirius said, wanting to howl.

But Harry didn't even twitch when Snape swabbed his bottom and inserted the needle. It was over in seconds and the only sound Harry made was a soft, "Ouch!" There were no tears, no hysterics. Severus rubbed some salve on the place where the needle had gone in.

"Good job, Harry! Not too bad, right?" Severus praised. "Hold still, son." He reached for the second vaccine.

Harry remained frozen, and Severus gave him the second shot. "Owwie! Dad, that stung a lot."

"I know. It's more concentrated." Again he rubbed on salve and Harry stood up, fixed his clothes, and turned around. "Do I get a chocolate frog now, Dad?"

"Yes, two for being a model patient."

Harry beamed. Then he turned to peer at Sirius, who looked like he was about to hyperventilate. "See, that wasn't too bad."

He accepted two chocolate frogs from Severus. Then he ate one. "Thanks, Dad."

Severus sent the test results for Harry down to the lab, the turned to Sirius and said. "Your turn, Mr. Black."

Sirius shook his head. "No . . no way . . .stay away from me, Snape! Before I . . .I change into a dog and . . .and bite you!"

"Sirius, Merlin help you," Severus sighed, drawing his wand. "I had hoped I wouldn't need to do this. Don't you feel ashamed, that a five-year-old took that better than you?"

Sirius flushed, for he did feel ashamed. "Please, Sev . . .why can't you just use a potion?"

"Potions are ineffective. Vaccinations are surer. Sirius, come here and try and act your age, please."

But the Auror was rooted to the spot, staring in fascinated dread at the three needles lined up on the new tray the medi-witch had brought. "Not three! Lord, Snape, this is your revenge isn't it, for me buying that broom for Harry? I'm sorry! I'll return it. Right now!"

"Padfoot, you're being ridiculous. Of course I'd never revenge myself on a patient."

"And his too," he leveled a finger at Harry. "‘Cause flying the broom got him spanked, right?"

"Huh?" Harry looked puzzled.

"Ignore him, scamp. Fear makes him babble nonsense." Severus said, pulling on another set of white physician's gloves.

Harry stepped forward at his father's nod, and said, "C'mon, Padfoot. It's okay." He took Sirius's hand and led him over to the table. "Bottoms up, Padfoot." He giggled.

"That's not funny, damn it!" Sirius snapped. Sweat was dripping into his eyes. He turned and looked at Severus. "Do I have to? I mean, nobody really dies any more of these diseases, so why the hell do we need these shots anyway? I had ‘em already and I don't care if the bloody thing is wearing off, so can't we just-"

"Drop them, Sirius." Severus ordered, interrupting the other's babbled excuses.

"I . . okay . . just give me a second." he fumbled with the button on his trousers.

"D'you need some help?" Harry inquired artlessly.

"No!" Sirius cried, feeling himself blush even redder. Black, you coward! A five-year-old is braver than you! He scolded himself. He managed at last to undo everything. "I hate this! I really really hate this, Snape!"

"A minute, Siri. Just one minute," Severus soothed, then pointed his wand and caused the Auror's trousers and shorts to fall down.

Siirus gritted his teeth, shivering. "I hate you, Sev! You're evil and horrible and a greasy-"

"Git with no sense of humor, yes, I know," Severus finished dryly. "Lean over, please."

Sirius froze. All he could think of was the horrible place where he'd been trapped as a dog and the antiseptic smell and the way the vet's hand had grabbed him and held him down and stuck him with all those sharp burning needles. No! No! Please!

Abruptly, Severus spun around, looking as if he were about to leave. "Fine, Padfoot. You win. I won't give you any vaccinations."

Sirius relaxed. "You won't? Thanks a lot, you're the best-hey!" The next instant, he felt Severus's hand on the small of his back, pushing him forward. "Why you sneaky, snarky, miserable Slytherin bastard!"

"Exactly. Be still." Snape ordered, holding his patient down firmly. "If you move about when I insert the needle, it could break," he warned. "And that will really hurt."

Sirius cursed Severus roundly in his head, his teeth clenched.

"Harry, talk to him." Snape ordered, for being tense would only cause the injection to hurt more.

"‘Kay, Dad. Hey, Padfoot, is it true my other dad once pranked an aunt of his by making her stink?"

"Yeah, James was mad at her ‘cause she said Severus was a half-Mudblood and not fit to associate with the rest of us-ye-oow!" he yelped, though he barely felt the needle go in, Severus was too quick.

"One down. Good job." Severus murmured. He dabbed on some salve. "Keep talking to him, Harry."

He waited until Harry had engaged the Auror in another conversation before he gave Sirius the second shot.

That time, the Auror merely grunted, though it hurt more than the first one. But the sting was soon gone when Severus applied the salve.

"Very good. Last one."

"Sev, you're a sadist," muttered his friend. "And if I had my wand I'd hex you to the dark side of the moon-Oww, damn it!"

"Done. That was the worst," the Healer said, erasing the sting with his magic salve again. He clapped his friend on the shoulder. "See, you survived."

"I'd better not have an allergic reaction to these damn things, Severus," grumbled the Auror.

"If you do, call me. Now quit mooning me, Padfoot, and get dressed. My medi-witches have seen too many bare arses to be interested in yours," he joked lightly.

"Think so?"

"Black, do you want another needle?" threatened the Healer.

At that, Sirius pulled up his clothing, giving his friend a glare as he did so. "You're a riot, Snape."

"Now you get a chocolate frog, Uncle Sirius!" announced Harry. "Maybe even three of ‘em."

"Can I have three shots of firewhiskey instead?"

"Sirius!" scolded Snape.

"What's that?" Harry asked.

"Never mind." Severus shoved the bowl of candy at the Auror. "Take one. It'll calm you down."

Sirius took a chocolate frog and ate it. The smooth silky chocolate did make him feel better.

Then Severus completed the rest of his exam.

Remus stuck his head in. "Need any help, Sev? Or did you knock him out with a club?"

"Ha ha, very funny, Moony." Sirius grumbled. "I can't wait to see you get your vaccinations."

"Already had ‘em, yesterday," said the werewolf smugly.

"You're in good health, Sirius," Severus said, writing on his patient's chart with a green quill. "And just think, you're done with vaccinations forever-"

"Thank Merlin!" Sirius heaved a vast sigh of relief.

"Unless we invent a new one," added Severus wickedly.

"Do that, Snape, and I'm moving to Antarctica. All the germs freeze over there and nobody gets sick."

"That's ‘cause only penguins live there, Padfoot," Harry put in. "But what if you catch a penguin disease?"

For some reason, that question made all the adults burst out laughing.

Harry eyed them, trying to figure out what was so funny. Grown-ups were so weird sometimes!

"Sirius, you might want to go and take a short nap before returning to work," Severus said then. "Those vaccinations can make you tired and muddleheaded for a while."

Sirius eyed Lupin, who was his senior. "Think Moody will let me have the day off?"

"For what?"

"Post traumatic stress disorder."

"I'm not even going to answer that one," the werewolf groaned. "Go take a nap, Padfoot."

"Two weeks later, I got my broom back, and I never ever flew off the property without an adult again," Harry finished, grinning at his black-haired little sister, Eileen. "Well, except for now, ‘cause I'm old enough to not need Dad's permission to go everywhere."

"And you're too old to spank too," the five-year-old added sagely.

Her fourteen-year-old brother just laughed. "Yeah, that too, imp. Just remember that story when you get your first broom, okay? Then you won't end up with a sore bum like I did."

"‘Kay, Harry." Eileen snuggled into his arms, her little head resting trustingly on his shoulder. She had beautiful curly dark hair, black as a rook's wing, and luminous cocoa brown eyes, and was possessed of the Snape independence, stubbornness, and the infamous temper. Her grandfather Tobias had nicknamed her "Little Miss Trouble" and said it must run in the family. For all three Snape children were in and out of trouble, on a regular basis, though Lexy was usually not in hot water as much as Harry or Eileen.

She smiled up at him, she had a gap-toothed grin from knocking her two front teeth out when she had fallen out of the big old maple tree in her backyard three months before. She had been trying to see a bird's nest. Luckily, the two teeth were baby teeth and Severus had said that her permanent teeth would grow in to replace them. But until then, the little girl had a smile like a jack-o-lantern.

"When d'you think Daddy'll let me have my own broom, Harry?"

"Uh . . .when you stop giving him heart failure, probably," Harry joked, ruffling her hair. "On second thought, that would mean never, since you'll probably be in trouble until you're an old lady, brat."

"I will not! That'll be you, mister," she returned indignantly, her mouth turned down in a familiar Snape scowl. "You can't even manage to stay outta trouble for one week, and you just got home from school."

"Watch it, Eileen Lily," Harry warned, waving a reproving finger at her. "Cause you're not too old to spank."

"You wouldn't, Harry!" she cried, her lower lip sticking out. Then she looked at him, he was wearing a stern expression that reminded her of their dad. "Would you?"

"I might, if you really annoy me," he said, giving her a pretend Snape glare.

Her bottom lip quivered. "You're mean! I don't like you any more!" She sniffled and went to jump off his lap, they were sitting in a wooden rocker out on the back porch.

"Hey, I was only kidding!" Harry said, holding her tightly.

She struggled. "Lemme go, you mean old thing! I don't want a big brother that spanks me! I'm gonna go and live with ‘Mione and Robyn." Robyn was Hermione's little sister, an unexpected addition to the Granger family four years ago, she was a late-in-life baby. Eileen attempted to wriggle from Harry's arms, but he was quite strong, for all of his slender build.

"Eileen! I didn't mean it, it was a joke!" Harry said, fighting to hold onto the wild thing. His little sister was strong as well as stubborn. "When's the last time I spanked you, huh?"

"Uh . . ." she frowned, thinking. "Maybe . . .ummm . . ."

"I gave you two smacks when you were three, for touching my wand, and after that I've never hit you," Harry supplied. "Now quit acting like a wild cat and settle down, okay?"

She subsided, her temper burned hot but also quick as lightning. "It wasn't very funny," she stated.

"Okay. I'm sorry. Merlin's beard, but you're in a mood today." He tweaked her nose, it was small like her mother Alaina's.

"So're you," she returned impudently. "It's not my fault Dad grounded you for nearly failing History of Magic."

Harry heaved a sigh. "I know, and I don't mean to take it out on you, kid. Not that I was, really. Binns is just so-o-o boring! He could kill a zombie in fifteen minutes just by lecturing, I swear. You'd better hope that when you go to school, kid, he's moved on to the afterlife or whatever."

"Okay. Maybe by the time I'm in school, you could teach History of Magic, Harry."

"Me? Teach a boring subject like that?" he repeated in mock-horror. "Nah! I could teach potions though. Or Quidditch."

"Yup, ‘cause you're the best Seeker Hogwarts has ever seen," the little girl declared, her dark eyes shining with hero-worship.

Harry blushed. "I think James Potter might have been a tad better, imp."

"Nu-uh!" Eileen shook her head vigorously. "Nobody's as good as my big brother. Will you teach me how to fly, Harry? Please?"

Harry smirked. "Yeah, all right. But you gotta promise to listen to me and do what I say when I say it. Think you can do that?"

"Yes. I know how to listen well."

"Really? Yeah, you listen well to the part of your brain that tells you to go and find trouble."

"Look who's talking! I never snuck drugged sweets to Grandpa."

"Well, I never flushed Mum's favorite pearl necklace down the toilet."

"That was an accident." She rubbed her bottom in remembrance, for that had been one of the few times she had ended up over Sev's knee. "Will you teach me how to fly if I ask nicely, Harry?"

Harry smiled down at her. "Yeah, scamp. I will. ‘Cause that's what big brothers are for. To teach and give advice to their little sisters. If they can remember it."

"I can ‘member, Harry! Dad says I'm a walking encyclopedia."

"Yeah, you're too smart for your own good." He laughed, giving her a mild spank on the bottom.

"Smarter even than you, Harry James Severus?"

"No way. I'm your big brother, imp and I'll always be smarter than you, no matter how old you are or how many masteries you get."

"How come?"

Harry shrugged. "That's just the way it is."

"That's no fair."

"Yeah, whatever."

She shifted in his arms, till she was lying half-curled on her side, her turquoise shirt and black pants contrasting with his green and white jersey and jeans. "Tell me about another time when you were a naughty brat, Harry."

"What is this, Harry's Worst Moments Hour?" he grumbled.

"Pl-e-e-e-ase!" she begged shamelessly. "It's better than reading The Tales of Beedle the Bard."

He chuckled softly. "Yeah, right. You just like hearing about somebody else getting in trouble instead of you for once."

"So? That's what big brother's are for, Dad says. To set a zample."

"You mean an example," Harry corrected, grinning.

"Whatever, Harry. Tell me some more, won't you?" she gave him her best big-eyed puppy dog stare.

He melted, surrendering without a fight. "Okay, brat. Here goes. One time, when I was six, I let Inky outside, he was a cub then, and he climbed the fence and ran away . . ."

Eileen settled down against his chest, warm and happy and a little drowsy, listening to her big brother tell yet another story of his mischief-making childhood, while the sun sank below the trees and painted the sky a brilliant rose, gold, and crimson. And out in the yard, Inky, the big black panther of the tale, yawned lazily and began to groom himself, watching over the two Snapes serenely.