“Wow, this is delicious Susan,” Harry said, his fork halfway to his mouth.

“Yes,” Severus nodded.

“Did you make this lasagna yourself?” Harry asked, dabbing at his mouth with his napkin.

“Yes,” Susan said shyly, her face tingeing pink.

“It was very considerate of you to cook supper for us,” Severus said stiffly.

“Well, I know you've both been busy cleaning. and -” her eyes swept around the room, taking in the tiles that shone as though they'd been scrubbed scrupulously; the counters and appliances that were polished so thoroughly, you could see your image in them. “-you've done a marvelous job.” Her eyes twinkled. “It positively sparkles.”

Severus smirked. “Well, the credit would have to go to my son here,” he said, in what could have been interpreted as an affectionate expression for those who knew the reserved potions master well. “He cleaned it from top to bottom; insisting on doing most of it...the Muggle way.”

Harry felt his face warm up. He played with the crisp linen table cloth; twisting it between his fingers nervously. He was embarrassed for anyone to suspect that he'd been brought up as a house elf. What was ironic, however, was that, when he didn't have his aunt or uncle hovering over him and berating him for missing a spot on the floor with the scrubbing brush, or beating him for not meeting their standards of excellence, he actually enjoyed cleaning.

Snape had raised a dark eyebrow, when Harry insisted on playing very loud rock music, while he moved from room to room, his bucket, mop and rags in tow. Severus had tried to assure him that they hadn't needed to avoid magic altogether, but when he realised that the wide grin plastered on Harry's face was pride and pleasure, he shoved his wand back into his trousers' pocket, picked up a feather duster, and proceeded to work side-by-side with his son, until they both stood back, and admired their hard work; a sense of pride and accomplishment, making them care little for their weary limbs and aching backs.

Susan smiled at Harry. “Well, I thought that since you were working so hard on getting this place in shape, that it would be nice if you didn't have to cook as well.”

Harry had a sudden thought. He looked at Severus. “Can you even cook?” he asked curiously.

“I'll have you know that it was I who taught Susan everything she knows,” he said indignantly.

Susan cocked an eyebrow at him. “Excuse me?”

The corner of Severus' mouth lifted. “Well no,” he admitted to Harry. “But I'm no slouch in the kitchen either.”

Harry looked at him disbelievingly. In all the time that he had stayed with Severus, they had either eaten in the Great Hall, or had something relatively simple like soup or sandwiches, but then Harry thought that it sort of made sense for someone who was so talented at Potions to be able to cook as well.

“Can you make lasagna, garlic bread and Caesar salad like this?” Harry smirked.

“No,” Severus admitted. “No one can make that quite like Susan.”

Susan flushed. “You two are going to make my head swell.”

“Well it's true,” Harry said, nodding his head. “I mean the food at Hogwarts is good, but they never make anything like this.”

“Well you two are very sweet,” she said, and then laughed at Severus' look of horror at being called sweet.

“Well, do you have any room for desert?”

Harry felt as though his stomach would explode, but curiosity got the better of him.

“What'ya got?” he asked eagerly.

She chuckled. “Cheesecake with fresh strawberries.”

“Well...I think that I can make a little room for it.”

Severus rolled his eyes, and smirked at Susan. “Growing boys!”

Harry sighed. “I wish.”

Susan scrunched her eyes in confusion.

“Harry is unhappy with his small stature,” he explained.

Harry felt his face heat up. He felt a surge of anger rise up at the thought that once again, his years of starvation and neglect had had long-term consequences on his body's growth.

“Just a second Harry,” Susan said as she rose, pushed her chair back, went over to the cupboard, and turned around to address Severus; her hand suspended in mid-air as she pulled out two plates, and wondered if she needed a third. “So Severus, are you going to have some?”

“I'll pass thank you, Susan,” he replied. “But the meal was certainly delicious. Thank you once again.”

Susan smiled. “You're more than welcome. More coffee Severus?” she asked as she placed a plate of cheesecake, with fresh strawberries on top, in front of Harry, and one in front of her own place setting.

Harry snickered. “That is like asking a cat if he wants sardines.”

Susan chuckled.

Severus quirked his lips. “You'd better watch it young man, or you'll be doing that pile of dishes over there without magic.”

Harry grinned at Susan. “His bark is worse than his bite. You'd better give him that coffee right away. He gets grumpy without it.”

Susan poured coffee into Severus' cup and smiled at him. “Yes I remember very well. Severus Snape, without his daily dose of caffeine, is like an angry Hippogriff when you forget to bow down to him.”

Severus scowled. “Why do I feel like I'm being ganged up on?” he said grumpily.

“Cause you are?” Harry replied cheekily.

“Humph,” Severus responded.

“So Harry...” Susan took a sip of her coffee. “This is your last year, right?”

Harry nodded.

“Do you have any plans for after graduation?”

“Yeah, I'd like to be an Auror.”

“As if he hasn't had enough of dealing with Dark wizards,” Severus said sardonically.

“Yeah well, this is different,” he argued, after savouring a mouthful of creamy cheesecake and sweet strawberries.

Severus cocked an eyebrow. “Oh really? he drawled.

“Well yeah,” Harry said hotly. “I wouldn't be working with the Ministry constantly working against me. We finally have a Minister of Magic that has some brains.”

“Yes, but you'd still be putting your life in danger,” Severus argued; all the while pushing down the overwhelming, unexpectedly...suffocating, feeling at the thought that the son that he'd finally been able to acknowledge, and gotten to know, could possibly be put in mortal danger or harm, once again. He didn't like this new, vulnerable feeling of worry that accompanied the state of fatherhood.

“Yeah, I know,” Harry choked. “But I've lost so many people that I've cared about, and not been able to do anything about it.” He spread his hands before him. “This is my chance to take what I've learnt over the past seven years, and use it maybe to stop someone like Voldemort from rising up, and ever hurting those I love again.”

Severus couldn't help the surge of pride that rose up in him. While he absolutely loathed the idea of his son pursuing such a dangerous career, he couldn't help being proud of the young man before him.

Susan smiled mischievously at Harry. “So Harry... I would imagine a handsome young man like yourself, must have a girlfriend tucked away somewhere?”

Severus smirked when Harry blushed. “Yes, he does. As a matter of fact, I'm certain that I'm to be a grandfather of many red-headed children.

Harry sputtered on his coffee. He looked at his father in horror.

Susan shook her head. These two were actually quite amusing to observe.

----------

“So Harry, here ... I thought these might be helpful for you to look at, to give you some decorating ideas,” Susan said handing Harry a pile of glossy magazines.

“Thanks,” Harry looked up her gratefully.

After dinner, the three sat before a crackling fire, sipping on after-dinner brandies. Harry had looked up in surprise when Severus handed it to him.

"Moderation," Severus elaborated.

Harry's face flushed. He simply nodded to acknowledge that he understood his father's message.

Harry curled up in the large armchair, tucking his feet beneath him. He took a sip of brandy and swirled it in his mouth. Between the large meal, his exhaustion from cleaning, the hypnotic flames dancing off the walls, and the warm glow that spread through his body, Harry's eyes slowly closed.

Severus couldn't help the small smile that transformed his harsh features, as he rushed to pick the glass of brandy from Harry's relaxed fingers, before it could spill. It was very difficult to believe that Harry was actually seventeen, when he looked so small and young curled up into a ball, in a large, sunken chair, that practically swallowed the slight boy.

Susan stared at her old friend. She just never thought that she'd ever see the day, when Severus Snape would look so affectionately down at his sleeping child; she'd never in a million years ever pictured the man even being a father. But then again, there was a time before things had gone horribly wrong with Lily, when she was sure that Severus would settle down and have loads of children, and then...Severus turned into a man that she didn't know anymore.

Susan and Severus had not spoken for many years after Lily and James had gotten married. Severus had been not only a broken man, but she had heard rumours that he'd succumbed to the allure of Dark Magic. Eventually though, Severus had moved back into his family home, dragging that creepy little man with him, and Susan had been appalled at the dark, bitter man that her old friend had become. But Susan had not given up on him, despite all the rumours. She knew that there was the same shy, insecure little boy that she'd grown up with, hidden deep inside the cold, hard outer shell.

“You have a very handsome son there Severus,” Susan whispered. “I can't believe that this is Harry Potter.”

She studied him for a moment. “There's one thing that I don't understand though,” she said, her brows crinkling. “How comes he looks so much like you now? I saw his picture in the Prophet not a couple of months ago, and he looked the spitting image of James.”

“It's a rather long story Susan,” Severus said wearily. “One that is rather unbelievable, and...complicated,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, of course. I understand.”

Severus felt a pang of guilt, when he saw Susan's crumpled expression. “I promise that I'll tell you everything Susan, but it's a very long story, and as I said...” he spread his hands out before him. “One that boggles the imagination.”

“I promise you,” Severus said, taking Susan's small hands in his own larger ones, “that I'll tell you the whole story one day.”

Susan nodded.

“I do believe that you and I have an unfinished game of chess to attend to,” Severus said as he bent to retrieve an old, Muggle, jade chess set, hidden in the bottom shelf of a old, cherry wood cabinet.

Severus snuck another affectionate look at his son's curled form in the chair, and beckoned to Susan to sit on the couch, where they began a very long game of chess, with Severus grudgingly admitting defeat to Susan finally, at three in the morning.

“Thank you for the dinner, Susan,” Severus said gruffly, after seeing his old friend to the door.

“You're welcome Severus, and it was a pleasure to meet Harry. Tell him that for me, will you?”

Severus nodded.

“And tell him that once you've both gone through the magazines, that I'll help you to choose paint, and I’ll arrange for you to obtain whatever furniture and such that you wish to purchase. I have several contacts that I can hook you up with,” she offered.

“I'll let Harry know. We'll be back next weekend and then again for the Christmas holidays.”

Susan nodded. “Goodnight Severus.”

“Goodnight Susan,” Severus said huskily. Seeing Susan again, brought all sorts of memories rushing back to him again; some pleasant, but most...very painful.

-------

Harry cracked an eye open and squeezed it shut again. He pulled the covers over his head, and then whipped then back down again, when he felt a presence beside his bed.

He scowled at Severus, who was smirking down at him.

"Well...it would seem as though you have decided to join the land of the living," Severus said dryly.

"Can you close the curtains please?" Harry groaned, slapping his hand over his eyes to block out the harsh sunlight filtering in through the shiny window panes, which he'd cleaned the day before.

"Hmm...well I thought that you'd perhaps like to take a stroll into town to choose furniture and paint." He smirked when Harry shot up in bed and threw the covers on the floor.

Harry grinned. "Well why didn't you say so?"

Severus rolled his eyes.

"Perhaps a shower is in order," he said caustically, eyeing Harry's greasy hair.

"It's all your fault, you know. It's in the genes," Harry grumbled, while opening drawers, searching for clean clothes.

"I'll have you know that my greasy hair is caused from the steam and fumes of my potions," Severus said indignantly.

"Sure it is," Harry said teasingly.

"You have exactly fifteen minutes to get showered, dressed and seated at the breakfast table, or I'll show you just how greasy your hair can become, while brewing potions, and chopping up cockroaches and spiders," he threatened with a smirk.

Severus quirked his lips as he heard a thud against the closed door.

--------

"So...what's for breakfast?" Harry asked, as he entered the kitchen, a towel wrapped around his neck, and rivulets of water dripping down his face and ears.

Severus scowled at him. "You are dripping water all over the floor."

"Well, you said that I only had fifteen minutes to get a shower, get dressed and get down here for breakfast," Harry said, scrunching up his face in a glare.

"That may be the case, but that does not pre-empt taking a few minutes to dry yourself," Severus said acerbically.

"Fine," Harry grumbled, as he patted his head with the fluffy towel.

"So...breakfast?" Harry asked again, trying to peek at what Severus was cooking.

Severus was standing at the stove; one hand clutching the wrought-iron frying pan, the other holding a spatula.

Harry's stomach rumbled with hunger, as the delicious aromas filled the air.

"Pancakes. Now set the table."

"You can make pancakes?" Harry asked, his eyebrows lifted up in surprise.

"As I told you last night, I am a fair cook. Much the same as with your relatives, I was not allowed to use magic growing up, and my mother was not always well enough to cook."

Harry felt a lump form in his throat. As much as he hated to think about the Dursleys, he knew that Severus' childhood had been just as, if not more miserable than his own had been.

Harry hungrily stabbed at the stack of pancakes with his fork, and heaped them onto his plate.

Severus looked at Harry disapprovingly as he drowned the pancakes in thick maple syrup.

"Like a little pancake with your syrup, do you? he said sarcastically.

"You know, if you had a sweet tooth, then maybe you wouldn't be in such a bad mood all the time," Harry said, smirking.

"And perhaps if you put as much effort in your schoolwork as you do in being insolent, then your marks would improve drastically," he drawled.

"I guess that greasy hair is not the only thing that I've inherited from you," Harry said cheekily.

"Eat Potter, we haven't got all day," Severus said, pointing with his fork at Harry's still half-eaten plate.

"Okay Snape."

Severus raised an eyebrow.

"Uh...father? Dad?" Harry said half-jokingly. He had been thinking a lot lately about how he addressed Severus. He didn't know if he was quite ready to call Snape dad, as James would always be dad for him, but he was starting to feel comfortable with Severus, and wanted to acknowledge their new-found relationship.

"You may call me anything but Snape," Severus said uncomfortably.

"I-I don't know. I don't know if I'm ready just yet calling anyone else dad, but James." Harry was surprised to see the hurt look on Severus' face. "Well, you know, you just don't seem the dad type, and you already told me once that you didn't want to be called dad, or -" Harry hesitated. "I mean- uh- you don't, do you?"

"As you wish," Severus said stiffly. "You may still call me Severus if you feel more comfortable." He lowered his eyes. “You may certainly call me...father if you wish," he said quietly.

At Harry's look of insecurity, he added, "I would most certainly be honoured if you'd call me Father, Harry, but as much as I'm proud to be acknowledged as your father, calling me Severus is fine as well."

Harry felt choked up. He knew that Severus was not the demonstrative type and felt uncomfortable with shows of affection. This was a big deal for a man like that.

"And, I'm proud to be your son too. And maybe someday, when I'm ready, and if you feel comfortable with it..."

"Harry," Severus interrupted. "You don't have to explain yourself. You are seventeen...an adult, and it's perfectly understandable that you wish to keep the memory of James-" He made a face. "This is very difficult for me to admit you realise, as Po-James and I were enemies, but I am trying very hard to let go of my grudges towards the man, and move on."

He steepled his hands together and stared at Harry. "What I'm trying to say Harry is, although I can't pretend that I'm happy about it, I understand that you still consider James your father, and want to honour his memory. And, as I'm the one that is lucky enough to have seen the fine man that you've become, I certainly think that I can put aside my jealousies and allow you not to have to choose between us."

"Now, stop worrying about this, and let it come naturally. There are many other things that are more important than a title Harry."

"Yeah, like greasy hair."

"Yes, and big noses," Severus said with a smirk.

Harry's hand flew to his nose.

Severus laughed. "Come, let's get these dishes done, and be on our way."

"Can I use magic?"

Severus rolled his eyes. "If it will get us out of this house faster, then certainly."

-----

Harry flipped through the pages of Susan's magazine, until he found the page that he had marked. "What do you think of these colour schemes Severus?"

Severus raised his eyebrow."Humph, a bit too Gryffindorish for my taste, but as I've given you carte blanche to decorate every room, other than my bedroom, that is, he smirked. "You are certainly free to choose the colour schemes."

"I was thinking though," Harry said, chewing on his bottom lip. “What about your furniture? I mean, would you rather fix it up, or buy all new. I mean, was it your parents; does it have sentimental value?"

"As far as I'm concerned Harry, we can take the lot of it and put a match to it," Severus said with a pained expression.

"I'm sorry," Harry choked. "I didn't mean to bring up bad memories.

"Harry, today is about you. Making a fresh start, and making this home yours...ours," he said firmly.

-----------

"So, are you quite satisfied with our purchases Harry?" Severus said disgustingly.

Harry grinned. "Yes Severus, I am." He reached out to pat Severus' hand, who withdrew it from the table as though Harry's touch was hot as coal.

"I think that it's about time that you expanded your horizons. I mean...how much bloody black, green and silver can one man endure?"

"I agree that perhaps I have an over fondness for, um...black. And my penchant towards Slytherin colours might be a little exaggerated, however-" he said raising one long, potion-stained finger, "-was it necessary to assault my senses by choosing such Gryffindor colours for practically every room in the house?"

Harry smirked. "You're exaggerating. I only chose those colours for my room." He put his finger on his chin in thought. "Oh, and the parlour, but other than that, I think that I chose colours that will brighten up the place."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Yes, canary yellow for the kitchen, purple for the bathroom..."

"Hey, it's not purple, technically...it's mauve!"

Severus scowled. "Yes, those are two of my favourite colours," he said sarcastically.

"Well, you did say I could choose any colours I wanted," Harry pointed out.

"Yes, I did, but do said colours have to be so bloody cheery?" he said scathingly.

"You know, Severus. It's one thing to look like a vampire, but do you really have to look like you live in a coffin too; with everything black, dark and dreary-looking?"

Harry was saved from Severus' fierce glare, and forthcoming acid tongue, when the waitress brought their lunch. They had both been relieved to sit down after a tiring day of visiting furniture stores, paint stores, and their tired brains were overloaded with images of paint and wallpaper swatches, black divans, large sofas, small sofas, leather sofas, white and blue, and black and charcoal sofas; their eyes burnt, their feet were swollen up like watermelons and as excited as Harry was at decorating his new home; he didn't care if he never saw another paint or furniture store again .They came upon a quaint little restaurant; it's awning decorated in garland, and brightly lit with Christmas lights. They opted for a table by the frosted window. Harry felt a thrill of anticipation as he watched the large snowflakes swirl to the ground. Harry couldn't believe that Christmas was in only a couple of weeks. Even Severus' bad mood couldn't dampen his rising spirits.

"What can I get you two gentlemen?" the young waitress asked hesitatingly. The older man looks prickly, she thought to herself.

Harry smiled. He was used to Severus' moods, and like he told Susan last night at dinner, Severus' bark was worse than his bite; at least most of the time.

"Uh, I'll have, hmm..." Harry looked at Severus. "How about pizza? I haven't had that in ages."

Severus raised an eyebrow.

"Aw, c'mon...lighten up Severus. I tell you what. We can decorate your study all in green and silver if you like, and we can do the library in really sombre colours."

In truth, Severus' mood had nothing to do with Harry's choice of decor, nor about colours. Ever since he and Susan had taken a walk down memory lane, Severus had been battling the demons from his past. He couldn't shake the feelings of regret and hurt that threatened to overwhelm him. He'd never been a carefree teenager, only having to worry about what girl to ask to the ball, or whether the weather would be decent for their next Quidditch match. It seems as though he'd always been mature beyond his years; with adult responsibilities.

Severus shook his head as though to clear the cobwebs, and looked at his son's hopeful expression, and felt a pang of regret for having been even more irritable than usual. He'd wanted this to be a chance to become closer; to get to know each other as father and son, and rather than make his son feel as though he truly belonged at Spinner's End, he'd only made the boy insecure and trying to shake him out of his sombre mood.

Severus looked up at the waitress. "We will have a large vegetarian pizza, with a mineral water, and a -"

Harry smirked. Trust Severus to make sure that even pizza was healthy and had vegetables on it. The man was constantly berating him like a little child for his poor eating habits. He couldn't help it really. He'd not grown up being given a choice of nutritious foods; if he was given any food at all, it was Dudley’s leftovers and in his early years especially, those foods were far from nutritious. Harry had a feeling, that had Severus been allowed to be a father to him from an early age, the man would have made sure he ate well, and plied him with plenty of fruits and vegetables. Again, Harry couldn't help but wonder what his life would have been like, had he grown up with Severus.

"A Pepsi please," Harry told the waitress, "and forget the mineral water...my father will have a Pepsi too."

Severus look appalled. "Do you realise what ingredients are in there?"

Harry grinned. "No, and I really have no interest in knowing, but I do know that mineral water and pizza just do not go together."

Severus huffed, and nodded to the waitress. "Very well, I'll have some of that Pepsi," he said as though it left a bad taste in his mouth. He turned to Harry after the waitress had left.

"You do realise Harry, that there is still a chance that you are growing. Boys mature at a slower rate than girls, and can continue growing until as late as twenty-one-years-old. Gorging on sugary sweets and poisoning your body with toxic substances such as Pepsi, which is full of sugar, corn syrup, and other poisonous ingredients, can interfere with that growth."

Harry rolled his eyes. Having a father for a professor could be tiresome at times, particularly with a father like Severus Snape, who enjoyed lecturing just a tad too much.

Harry sighed. "Yes Severus and I promise that when we get home, I'll have some fruits and vegetables to make up for it."

Severus narrowed his eyes at him, as though to ascertain whether Harry was patronizing him or not.

-----------

"You know I was thinking Severus," Harry said looking at the paint and wallpaper that had been delivered to their door, not twenty minutes after they arrived, "that maybe we could use magic to decorate just this once," Harry said wearily. He was weary from shopping, but was really anxious to see the fruits of their shopping expedition come to life in the dreary house, and didn't think he had the energy, nor the patience to paint and wallpaper, the Muggle way.

"Yes, I think I quite agree," Severus said, pulling his wand out of his pocket.

"So, where would you like to begin?"

"Would you mind if we did my room first?" Harry asked, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. "I'm really anxious to see what it's going to look like decorated."

Severus smirked. "Of course you do. Why wouldn't you be anxious to see your room decorated in all those obnoxious Gryffindor colours?"

Harry chewed on his bottom lip. "Does it really bother you that much?" he asked worriedly.

Severus put his arm around Harry's shoulders.

"I apologize for my bad temper Harry, and I never meant to dampen your spirits. My mood really has nothing to do with your choice of colours. I've been working through some issues that have nothing to do with you.

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. It wasn't often that the man talked about how he was feeling, and even rarer was it for him to apologize.

"It's okay Severus, I understand," Harry said quietly. Actually, Harry had noticed a change in Severus' mood since Susan's visit and had a feeling that it had to do with his mum.

"No, it's not Harry, and I just want you to know that--Oh Merlin this is difficult," he said as though he was pulling his teeth, "I am proud to have a Gryffindor son. And if you ever repeat that to anyone, I will deny every word of it."