Harry glowered at the back of the neat blonde head of the man sitting in the front, driver’s seat of the Ford Escort that would ultimately carry them and the dark-haired young woman in the front passenger seat to the Burrow. The Weasley home was some seven hundred miles from where he and his travel companions had been staying on the Isle of Lewis.

Seven hundred miles! God, how was he going to survive travelling in a car with Severus Snape for the length of time it would take to get to Devon, where the Burrow was situated? It didn’t even matter that the man didn’t look like Snape anymore. Paul Vale was Severus Snape; the grey tinged blonde hair and grey eyes couldn’t disguise the ‘superior to thee’ attitude of the man. Harry turned his head and stared out the side window. He glimpsed a pale reflection of a chubby face, longish brown hair and ingenuous blue eyes; he wasn’t much pleased with this picture either. The face belonged to a kid no older than twelve.

When Harry had first seen his new body back at the Haven, he had been furious and had demanded to know why Snape had lied to him about the kid’s age. Snape had just looked bored and said, “I would have thought that would be obvious, even to you, Potter. I wanted you to take the potion with no more argument.”

And then he had added that he thought his choice had been appropriate because Harry acted like a twelve year old most of the time, so he might just as well be a twelve year old. Harry had wanted to smack him one. And he had to pretend that this arse was his father! Who had come up with that idea? Harry would bet his Firebolt that it hadn’t been Snape. Snape would as soon want Harry Potter or Aidan Vale, or whomever the hell he was at the moment, as a son, as he would want to dance the tango with Voldemort.

Once in the car, and having gotten over the immense shock of seeing his rigidly magical Potions professor climb in behind the steering wheel, Harry sat silent in the back seat for several miles trying to digest the fact that his world has once again been turned on its head. Snape could drive. Would wonders never cease? Wait until he told Ron and Hermione.

As mile after mile of sameness rolled past the windows, Harry became bored. He began to ask questions of this new Snape about their journey. Showing the patience of a saint—no doubt for Erin’s benefit—Severus indulged his curiosity for several miles, but finally, he baulked and asked Erin to extract a large map of the British Isles from the glovebox and hand it back to Harry. Harry spent the next eight or so minutes of the journey studying the map and trying to work out distances. Stornaway did indeed seem to be the only town of any real size on the Isle of Lewis; there did appear to be other small settlements, but they could scarcely be given a name as grand as ‘town’. They travelled what must have been fifteen miles from ‘the Haven’ without seeing any signs of human life…plenty of shaggy sheep, certainly, but no people or cars.

They stopped once when a very determined sheep refused to move from the middle of the road. A blast on the horn did nothing to encourage it to move, and Snape ended up getting out of the car to deal with the recalcitrant, four-footed (or hoofed) pedestrian.

Erin got out to assist and when Harry attempted to do the same, Snape pointed at him and ordered him to stay put. Harry slammed the door and watched with vindictive pleasure as the two adults struggled with the sheep who seemed determined not to give up his staked-out territory. How ridiculous was it that Snape wouldn’t let him help? What was going to happen to him here, in the middle of nowhere, on a road devoid of traffic, except for the four legged variety? And if it came to that, someone could do away with him whilst he sat here alone and they were out there playing Ring A Ring a Rosie with Mary’s not so little lamb! True to his earlier edict, Snape’s wand did not leave his pocket, or his sleeve, or wherever in the hell he stashed it.

Before they had left the house, Snape had warned Harry that absolutely no magic was to be used when they were outside the wards that had protected the safe-house. Dumbledore and Snape were not willing to take the chance that Voldemort might not have followers within the ministry, and as the ministry could detect random acts of magic, particularly if they originated from an area where it was known that no magical folk dwelt…well, the risk was too great, unless there was a dire emergency.

The strong wards surrounding the property where they had been staying meant that no magic performed within its boundaries could be detected in the outside world. So, they were to remain non-magical during the whole journey…well, that was a given for Harry anyway, as he was underage.

Obviously, stubborn sheep were not considered a dire enough emergency and so it took a good ten minutes to convince the shaggy menace that he would be much happier on the other side of the fence where the grass was greener. Erin found a hole in the fence that ran parallel to the road and Snape eventually stuffed the beast back through and performed a very makeshift, manual repair on the fence.

Harry hid a smirk when his dad and aunt practically staggered back to the car. They were both severely dishevelled and Snape looked as if he would have quite liked to be making a mutton stew! Erin pushed several stray locks of her newly dark hair out of her face with the back of her hand. She then opened the glovebox and extracted a container of wet-wipes, several of which she handed to Snape. Lanolin from the sheep’s fleece had coated his hands; he swiped at them irritably.

“You can get that smirk off your face, Aidan,” he bit out, and Harry glanced up to see those unfamiliar grey eyes flashing angrily at him through the rear view mirror. It took a few seconds, but Harry was finally able to dispense with the smirk.

“Sorry,” he muttered with a passable attempt at contrition. Snape was not impressed however.

“I'm not in the mood for any of your idiocy, Potter,” said Severus nastily as he started the car and set it in motion. “So just get yourself into the right frame of mind for this little charade. Right now!”

Harry saw Erin reach across the centre console and lay a placatory hand on Severus’s knee. Harry’s stomach dropped and his mental smirk disappeared along with the physical one. He turned again to gaze unseeingly out of the side window.

Harry had temporarily forgotten, that his two companions were now very much an item, what with the strangeness of the whole scenario he found himself a part of. He was sitting in a car with two total strangers, who weren’t really strangers at all. Added to that was the improbability of Snape looking and acting so much the Muggle. He had to wonder how hard it was going to be for Snape and Erin to pretend to be siblings. As hard as it was going to be for him to pretend that Snape was his dad?

I’m sorry, Dad, whispered Harry to James Potter. He hoped his real dad wherever he was, knew that this was not his idea.

The barren landscape they had, until now, been driving through was giving way to the beginnings of the built up area that denoted the outskirts of a town. Harry presumed they were entering the town of Stornaway. Snape had told him that Stornaway was the major town—the only proper town apparently, on the Isle of Lewis—and was where they would board the ferry that would sail them across to the mainland.

8888

Harry stood near the railing on the rear deck of the ‘Isle of Lewis’, the ferry that was sailing him back to the Scottish mainland. He was watching the picturesque town of Stornaway recede into the distance. Snape and Erin were standing a short distance off, talking quietly together and keeping an annoyingly close eye on him. In Harry’s opinion—and he knew it would not be appreciated—the two of them were standing a little too close and were looking a little too cosy to be siblings. Snape had a very sour expression on his face because he would have been so much happier sitting in the cafeteria section of the large vessel, enjoying a hot drink.

Erin had convinced him to pander to Harry in this, and so here they were, huddled deep in the waterproof coats that had, fortuitously, been in the boot of the car, catching their collective breaths against the cold wind and feeling the salt spray in their faces. The only thing that Harry liked about being Aidan Vale was that he had twenty-twenty vision. The owner of the hair had perfect eyesight. Back at the Haven, Snape had taken his glasses, which were now superfluous, put an unbreakable charm on them and stowed them in his big bag.

Harry leaned happily on the railing. He was grateful for Erin’s intervention; he certainly didn’t want to be inside for the duration of the crossing, which apparently took approximately two and a half hours.

There were quite a few other people hanging around the rear deck, despite the cold wind. Some were sitting on the anchored seats and others were standing at the railing. Harry knew that Snape was keeping an eagle eye on everyone, and when a rather large man came and stood right beside the small of stature (it would have been so nice to be tallish for once) Aidan Vale, Severus left Erin several feet away and came and stood close to Harry’s other side. Harry rolled his eyes. His father was definitely paranoid.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” Harry glanced around to see a cute little girl run up to the man and grab hold of her daddy’s leg. He hoisted her into his arms as a large woman came to stand beside them. At the sight of the family group, Severus relaxed a little, but not entirely. But the couple and their daughter didn’t move away from their vantage point and Severus had finally had enough.

“Come along Aidan, let’s get inside and warm up.”

Harry wanted to say, ‘aww Da-ad! Can’t I stay out here?’ but on balance, he thought it unwise to antagonise Snape. When he turned away from the rapidly diminishing coastline, the little girl grinned and poked her tongue out at him from over her father’s shoulder. Harry grinned back, and poked his tongue out in turn, but Severus put a firm hand on his shoulder and guided him away before the game could progress any further.

As soon as they were inside, Harry shrugged his shoulder to displace the firm hand. “I can walk, thanks,” he said irritably.

“Then walk!” bit out Severus in low tones.

In the cafeteria, they were able to commandeer a table to themselves and Erin and Harry sat while Severus went to the counter to get some drinks. Harry was scowling as he stared out of the salt-encrusted window. Erin put a hand over his fist which was resting on the table.

“Harry, just play along. The time will go much faster and much more pleasantly if you just go with the flow,” she said gently.

Harry’s nostrils whitened as he inhaled an angry, bitter breath. “He’s such a shit!” he burst out, and when he noticed several heads turn in their direction, he reddened and lowered his voice considerably. “Why does he have to hover every second?” He twisted around in his seat and glared at Snape as he put in his order. Sure enough, as Harry glared, Snape turned to check that his charge was still seated and safe. Harry faced forwards again and slumped down in his seat with his arms clamped tightly across his chest.

“First he lies to me about the potion, and now he won’t leave me alone for even a few minutes. What? Does he expect a Death Eater to jump out at me here in the middle of the bloody sea? After we’ve sailed from an island that you can bet most of the population of Britain has never even heard of?”

“He’s doing everything to protect you. Perhaps if you worked with him instead of against him…”

Harry pulled his hand out from under Erin’s. He looked at her angrily, his lips tight. “Work with him after being tricked into looking like a kid who’s four years younger than I am…”

“Shh!” Erin hushed him as quietly as she could. “We shouldn’t be talking…”

“Yes, Aidan!” said a furiously tight voice close to Harry’s ear, and Severus placed a laden tray on the table and slid into the seat next to Harry. Those grey eyes bore into Harry, whose lips tightened with impotent fury. He slowed his breathing, fighting for control.

The rolling motion of the ship was starting to make him feel squeamish. Plus, his scar had started to prickle about an hour ago and it was steadily getting worse. He didn’t rub at it, even though he longed to do so because he didn’t want to draw attention to it.

He wanted to tell Snape where to go in suitably colourful language, but he figured Erin wouldn’t be too happy with him, so he bit his tongue. He slowed his breathing to try to stem the heaviness in his stomach that was now really starting to be a problem. In, out, in, out…he concentrated on each breath and continued to stare out of the window at the grey sky. Rain began to hit the glass with little staccato pings and the dining room began to fill up as people sought shelter from the inclement weather.

“Are you OK, H…Aidan? You’ve gone really pale,” said Erin concernedly as she peered closely at him after pouring him a mug of tea. She squeezed his hand where it was clenched on the table again. There was a plate of scones, and dishes of jam and cream, and the sight of the food didn’t do anything for Harry’s steadily worsening nausea. He averted his eyes. The ship was pitching quite violently now. Severus watched the boy’s face take on a delicate greenish hue; trust Potter to suffer from sea-sickness.

“Can I go outside?” asked Harry in a tight voice.

Severus looked out at the driving rain that was being flung violently against the windows. The temperature looked to have dropped another ten degrees. But by the time he had turned back to Harry, it was too late. Both he and Erin were taken by surprise when Harry shot out of his chair and pushed through the milling crowd, and out the nearest door. By the time Severus realised that Harry had moved and had followed after him, Harry was leaning over the side railing, offering up the meagre contents of his stomach to the sea.

Harry was already dripping wet by the time Severus joined him. So violent were his spasms, he was leaning very precariously over the railing and Severus automatically grabbed for the back of his waterproof and hauled him back a little. The wind was just about strong enough to lift the slight figure up and over the railing.

Harry continued to retch for another couple of minutes and he seriously wished Snape would let him go so that he could throw himself overboard. He had been sick plenty of times before, but this felt worse than anything that had ever come before. Ever!

Finally, he groaned and leaned his head on his arms which were wrapped tightly around the cold, wet metal of the railing. His knees were shaking and he knew if he let go, he would collapse onto the deck.

God, kill me now!

“Merlin, Potter, you are going to drive me to drink,” muttered Severus as he half carried, half dragged Harry into a corner out of the wind, and the worst of the freezing rain. He pushed him down into a chair and after delving into a deep pocket in his waterproof, Severus knelt down in front of the boy whose eyes were closed, his face as pale as one of the Hogwarts’ ghosts.

“Drink this,” said Severus in what was for him, a sympathetic tone. But when Harry remained oblivious to his words, Severus took his lower face in a forceful grip and pried his mouth open. Harry tried to prise the strong hand away, but as he was too weak to lift his arms for more than a second or two, Severus prevailed. The contents of a small vial was poured down Harry’s throat.

Harry held his breath and waited for the potion to exit his body the same way it had gone in. But within seconds of the tasteless concoction hitting his stomach, the terrible nausea he was still feeling even after emptying the whole of his digestive tract, began to abate. His respirations evened out and a modicum of colour returned to his face. He was still exceptionally pale, but the blue tinge to his lips and his earlobes showed that his pallor was as much to do with the cold as it was with his indisposition.

“Are you well enough to stand now?” asked Severus, his own voice somewhat shaky with the cold. He longed to pull out his wand and cast a simple Drying and Warming Charm. They could both end up with pneumonia.

Harry gave a tiny nod and tried to stand, but he couldn’t do it without assistance. Severus took his arm in a firm grip and together, they half walked, half staggered back into the musty warmth of the cafeteria.

“Oh, you poor dears,” said an elderly lady sitting at the table nearest the door. “I saw the wee young bairn out there,” she said in a Scottish accent so broad, it might just as well have been a foreign language for all that Harry understood. Severus seemed to have no trouble deciphering the guttural sounds however. Somehow, his arm had found its way around Harry’s slender shoulders.

“Yes,” Severus said politely. “My son has quite a weak stomach. We were hoping for a smooth crossing.” He squeezed Harry’s shoulders in an affectionate gesture.

Harry thought that the potion must have been a hallucinogenic because he was standing here clamped to Severus Snape’s side and there wasn’t an aggressive gesture to be seen from the man. But then, Harry already knew that the man was an accomplished actor.

“He’s feeling much better now though, aren’t you son?” said Paul Vale, smiling down into Aidan’s face. Harry offered a very forced smile, but the old lady didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

“Now we just have to hope that we both don’t end up with pneumonia,” said Severus, and with a brief smile and a nod of his head, he said goodbye and ushered Harry back across the room to the table where Erin had remained behind, waiting and worrying.

Erin pulled out a chair and Severus pushed Harry down into it. “God, you’re both freezing,” said Erin concernedly, and she took one of Harry’s hands in both of hers and began to chafe it.

“I’m OK,” said Harry through chattering teeth. He tried to pull his hand free but Erin tightened her grip while looking over at Severus. He took off his coat and hung it on the back of a chair before sitting down in his wet, cold jeans. He cursed silently and fluently. What was the bloody point of being a wizard if he couldn’t even dry off? Severus felt the teapot with his own freezing hand. It was just barely warm.

“I’ll get a fresh one,” said Erin. She released Harry’s hand and jumped up. Severus watched her for a few seconds as she ordered a fresh pot of tea. Then he turned back and watched Harry rub his forehead hard with three rigid fingers where his scar would have been situated. Of course, Aidan didn’t have a visible scar, but it was obvious from Harry’s facial contortions that he was in pain. His slender body was wracked with shudders from the deep-seated chill that must have permeated as deep as his bones. It had certainly permeated Severus’s and he wondered fleetingly in one small corner of his mind whether they were ever going to experience summer weather again.

Severus could see the old lady looking over at them. She smiled when Severus nodded at her in a friendly acknowledgment. He leaned in close to Harry on the pretext of checking his temperature. “How long has your scar been bothering you?” he asked quietly.

Harry jerked away from the unexpectedly gentle touch and his eyes flew open. “It’s not!” His automatic denial emerged from between chattering teeth.

Severus tried to raise one disbelieving eyebrow, but the man whose body Severus now inhabited didn’t appear to have that ability. Both eyebrows hiked towards his hairline. The action didn’t feel half as menacing, but Harry wasn’t looking anyway. He had slumped back in his seat and wrapped his arms tightly across his chest.

“Don’t lie to me, Aidan. You’re in pain. Was that part of the reason why nausea overtook you so quickly?”

Harry thought about lying but he really didn’t have the energy to think up something convincing. He nodded. “It’s been aching on and off since just before we left Stornaway.”

Erin returned to the table with another tray. She had a very determined look on her face as she set it down and poured two steaming mugs of tea. Severus took one and wrapped his freezing hands around it. His eyes didn’t stray from Harry. “You should have told me sooner.”

“Here, Aidan, drink this.” Erin forced the mug into Harry’s hands, but he was trembling so much with the cold, some of the scalding liquid slopped over the rim of the cup and onto his hands.

He cried out in pain and would have automatically dropped the cup except that Erin still had a partial grip on it. She placed it back on the tray as Severus grabbed up a handful of paper serviettes and passed them to her. “I’m sorry, Harry,” she said as she gently mopped his hands. “Are you OK?”

“At least they’re warm now,” he said with an unconvincing grin, but then his face and eyes screwed up again and he gave a little moan as a particularly vicious jab of pain speared through his invisible scar. When it had passed he, opened his eyes and looked into the set face of Paul Vale.

“He’s up to something big,” Harry said weakly. “Something that he and the others are really enjoying.”

Severus’s hand jerked a little and he lowered his cup back onto the table. Automatically it seemed, he rubbed his left forearm through the thick woollen sleeve of his jumper. He stopped when he felt both Erin’s and Harry’s eyes watching him.

Harry raised his eyes to Severus’s face. Severus glared back at him for a second and then surged to his feet. “Come on, Aidan, let’s get into some dry clothes,” he said brusquely, peeling his coat from the back of the chair. Harry pushed his shaggy, fringe out of his blue eyes.

Erin knew that some silent communication was going on between the two wizards and she looked confused and concerned. “Can’t he finish his drink?” she asked. “He needs to warm up on the inside.”

“He’ll never warm up as long as he’s in those wet clothes.” Severus took Harry’s arm again and moved in the opposite direction to the one they had taken before. They exited the cafeteria through an internal door and headed towards the stairs that would take them down to the level where their car was parked.

Once Severus was sure that Harry wasn’t going to collapse, he released his arm and led the way. Erin and Harry hurried along behind, their feet echoing in the large space where there were about twenty cars parked in close formation.

“But all my clothes are in my trunk, and you shrunk that,” said Harry as Severus opened the boot and pulled out the large, heavy denim hold-all.

“I have extra clothes for you and I in here,” Severus said tersely, and he produced a pair of grey cords, a long-sleeved tee-shirt and a cream polo necked jumper. There was also, Harry noticed with chagrin, a pair of underpants and a pair of socks.

Harry looked at his pile of clothes and then watched Snape extract another set of clothes for himself from the bag. The bag was roomy, but not that roomy. He realised that the bag must have the same Undetectable Extension Charm on it that all School trunks did. Ron had explained the charm to him way back in first year when Harry had marvelled over the fact that he could fit his new Nimbus Two Thousand broom into his trunk easily. He had always been amazed that along with all of his school supplies and his robes and Muggle clothes, his substantial cauldron also fit easily into the trunk. The trunk was big, but not that big.

Ron had been amazed that Harry hadn't known about Undetectable Extension Charms. Of course Harry realised that there had to be some magic at play; he had just never bothered to ask, not wanting to appear too clueless.

“But where did these clothes come from?” asked Harry as a shiver wracked him from head to toe.

“Never mind about that now,” growled Snape. “Get over there between the two cars and change.”

“Harry goggled at him. “I’m not getting changed here!” he said, outraged. “What if someone comes down here?”

“Just do as you’re told, idiot boy! Erin and I will stand guard at either end.” At the mutinous look on Harry’s face, he added in a deadly voice. “Do it!”

Harry took another moment to glare his all consuming hatred before stomping to the other side of the car. He put the clothes down on the cleanest bit of floor he could find and then began to fumble with the zip of his jacket with his stiff, cold hands.

It took longer than Harry could have believed possible to divest himself of the cold, clammy clothes that clung uncomfortably to his skin and then to haul the dry items on. He removed the top layers first and redressed in the tee-shirt and jumper, hoping that they would be long enough to shield his bottom half a little when he removed his jeans and underpants. As soon as he was enshrouded in the thick jumper, he could feel blessed warmth start to permeate his bones. That was so much better. Harry rubbed the soft wool of the jumper. He didn’t know why he was surprised that the clothes fit his twelve year old body so well. Snape had obviously had his humiliation planned for a while.

Without a word, Snape took Harry’s place while Harry stood at one end of the space between the cars, and Erin stayed at her post at the other end. Harry kept his eyes facing resolutely outwards, as Snape and Erin had done when he was changing. Snape in Muggle clothes was one thing…Snape partially naked was entirely another.

Once dry and warming up nicely and feeling tolerably human again, Harry watched Snape as he stowed the wet clothing in a corner of the boot. He then followed the two adults as they climbed from the lower decks and entered the big lounge area with its leather sofas and groups of chairs. Harry took a seat facing the windows; the rain seemed to have stopped and he could even see a couple of small patches of blue sky. Hallelujah! Perhaps the day might improve after all. But then his invisible scar gave a particularly vicious twinge and Harry knew that someone’s day had just gotten a whole lot worse.

Severus had seated himself with his back to the view so that he could keep an eye on all the comings and goings. He saw Harry rub the place where his scar would have been with the heel of his hand and he wondered with an ever growing sense of dread what the Dark Lord and his cohorts were up to.

He turned to Erin. “Could you go and get us some more hot drinks? Perhaps this time, we might be able to finish them.”

Erin looked between Harry and Severus. It was obvious Severus had to speak to Harry, and he wanted to do it in private. As he didn’t look angry about anything, she didn’t feel apprehensive about leaving them alone together. She nodded and left them to it, making a mental note to ask Severus what was going on.

“Is this pain not wearing off?” asked Severus, quietly, leaning towards Harry with his elbows on his knees.

“It is now,” said Harry, and it was the truth. Following that last, sharp jab, the pain was receding.

Severus’s eyebrows rose. “So…”

“So, whatever he and…and the others were up to, is now over,” explained Harry, dejectedly. He looked up at Severus, and Severus had to admit that that chubby face and those blue eyes were rather disconcerting when it should have been a thin face and green eyes that he was looking at when the subject matter was so dire. The blue eyes were not outstanding in any way, nothing like the striking deep green eyes that usually glared at him with such active dislike. the blue eyes were, at this moment, looking at him with something resembling a heartfelt plea to assuage his fears.

Strangely, Severus wished he could comply. Who would have ever thought that he would feel even more sympathy for the plight of James Potter’s son?

“Surely you know what he’s up to,” said Harry desperately.

Severus’s eyes narrowed. “I am here with you, Aidan. How am I supposed to know what he’s up to?”

Harry leaned in a little closer. “But why weren’t you…you know?”

“Contrary to what you may think, my fine young yeoman, I am rarely…you know,…invited to participate in certain events. Nor am I in a certain person’s ear to the extent where I would know all his plans.” Severus took a deep breath.

“I have not seen him since that night nearly two weeks ago. I am charged with finding a particular person vital to his plans.”

“Harry looked down to where their knees were nearly touching. “Oh,” was all he could find to say.

“So you don’t actually have a vision of what is happening?” asked Severus. “When your scar acts up.”

Harry shook his head. “No, he…I…I just seem to feel his emotions. Whatever just happened, he was really happy about.”

Severus looked grim. “He’s usually happiest when causing pain and suffering.”

When Erin returned, her two wizards were both sitting in a seemingly amiable silence, both lost in their own thoughts. It was a very nice change not to see them at each other’s throats for once, nor even glaring daggers at each other.

Just over an hour later, Paul Vale and his little family drove off the Isle of Lewis onto the ferry terminal at Ullapool.