The Shrieking Shack, Hogsmeade, Scotland, May 1998.

He had not expected to die from a snakebite.

He had expected to die, of course. Severus had never imagined that he would survive the war. He had not even particularly wanted to. From that horrible moment seventeen years ago, when he had learned of Lily's death, his purpose in life had been to help defeat the evil monster who had killed her and to protect the boy, Lily's son, who had survived. It didn't matter that he loathed the boy, could scarcely bear the sight of him. Harry Potter was Lily's son and Severus had sworn to keep him safe.

A foolish promise, as it had turned out. Despite Severus' best efforts, the boy was destined to die anyway. His death was the only way to ensure Voldemort's destruction and no one could spare him from it, not Albus Dumbledore who had truly cared for the boy, nor Severus who had despised him.

Except that he didn't. Not anymore, or at least, not as much. Ever since he had learned of the horrible sacrifice the boy would have to make, and then in the ensuing months when he had heard occasional rumours of the trio's escapades and had secretly rejoiced at each victory, Severus had had a difficult time summoning the old hostility he'd once felt for Harry Potter.

There were even times when he had felt something akin to sympathy for him.

Sympathy and a sort of bitter resignation at the cruel fate that had condemned them both.

But he had come to accept that whatever destiny awaited the Potter boy, his own path was clear; to continue in his role of spy against Voldemort, using all of his considerable skill and subterfuge to masquerade as one of the Dark Lord's closest followers while sabotaging his plans as much as possible, until the day he would die.

Severus had always tried not to think of that day, but sometimes he had not been able to stop himself. And of all the possible means he had imagined...various methods of torture, dying in battle...somehow he had never considered death-by-Nagini. Well, what was the saying? The things you worry about never come to pass?

No, it's the unexpected that always bites you in the rear, or in his case, in the neck, Severus thought with wry irony. Still, there was a certain poetic justice in the Head of Slytherin House dying from a snakebite.

Severus had a crazy urge to laugh, if he had been able to by that point, and decided that it must be the loss of blood affecting him. He had lost a tremendous amount in just the past few minutes. It couldn't be much longer now. He could sense the darkness hovering at the edge of his consciousness and suddenly he was ready for it. This life had brought him only pain and misery. He hoped the next would be better.

And maybe, just maybe, he would see Lily again.

As the darkness overcame him, Severus tried to picture her in his mind; Lily's delicate face, long red hair, and brilliant green eyes, but somehow her image kept blurring into her son's and the last thing Severus saw was a slight boy with tousled dark hair and a thin face, but with the same emerald eyes...

***

A Better Place, May 1998.

He was lying on a smooth hard surface, but it was not uncomfortable. For a while...Severus had no idea if it were minutes or hours...he simply lay still, feeling more relaxed and at peace than he had in a very long time. But eventually he did begin to feel curious about where he might be and he sat up and looked around.

He was in the lobby of a large building, sitting on a black and white diamond-patterned floor. Long gleaming counter-tops stood along opposite walls, while a third wall behind him was entirely of glass. White mist obscured the outside view though, so Severus had no idea what might lie beyond.

The fourth wall, directly ahead of him, was the most curious. A tall door was surrounded on either side by posters, yet the posters were blank.

The entire place seemed deserted, except for him. A fortunate thing, as Severus abruptly realised that he was naked. He was shocked that it had taken him so long to discover that fact, but as soon as it had occurred to him, a stack of neatly folded clothes...all black...appeared, rising through the floor just as the plates of food did at Hogwarts.

Severus hesitated, but the clothes seemed to be meant for him. They were even black. So after a couple of seconds, he reached for them and caught his breath when he saw that the hated Dark Mark branded on his left forearm had vanished. He brought his right hand up and brushed trembling fingers over the smooth skin, staring in wonder.

But after a while he remembered that he needed the clothes and hurriedly grabbed at them. He dressed quickly, hoping against hope that no one would appear before he was suitably covered. No one did; he seemed to be quite alone in this place, wherever it was.

Severus stood and gazed about again, feeling increasingly bewildered. He caught sight of his reflection in the glass wall and was almost surprised at how normal he looked; a tall lean figure, dressed in black, with dark hair that brushed the collar of his shirt and a long pale face with obsidian eyes.

But no wounds. Slowly Severus brought a hand up to feel his neck, verifying what he could see in his reflection. The bite marks were gone, just as the Dark Mark was gone, as if they had never been. He didn't even have a scar.

Feeling dazed, he turned once more to face the last wall, with the door and the empty posters and moved towards it, the click of his boots against the floor sounding impossibly loud in the utter silence.

Severus moved through the door and entered another large room. Rows of seats sat before a large blank screen flanked by velvet drapes. Now he knew the type of building he was in, though he was startled by it. He had never imagined the afterlife consisting of a giant cinema. He had never been much of a movie-goer before, though he and Lily had gone to a few in their youth, before everything had been ruined...before he had ruined everything. But he knew what one did at the cinema so he slowly made his to a chair and sat down.

What sort of show did one watch in the afterlife anyway?

A re-play of one's time on earth perhaps? And then would he face some sort of judgment? Severus swallowed hard, feeling a deep sense of shame and trepidation. He knew better than anyone the horrible mistakes he had made, the terrible acts he had participated in, and he dreaded the thought of having to re-live them again. The memories were hard enough to bear.

But whatever judgment passed upon him, it would be no more than he deserved and whatever else he was, he was not a coward. He would face it with as much courage and acceptance as he could muster.

Still, he was suddenly grateful to be alone. He didn't want anyone else to see all the worst parts of his life. He had been hated and feared enough.

Then the lights dimmed and pictures flickered across the screen. But they weren't scenes from Severus' life.

He watched Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall walk down a dark street before the dim outlines of identical houses, discussing the fate of a small toddler. He saw a tiny boy, little more than a baby, with messy dark hair and sad green eyes, curl up in the corner of a small cupboard and weep for his lost parents. He saw the same child grow and survive a childhood that seemed as bleak and miserable as Severus' own.

The young whale of a cousin bullied and isolated him. The aunt and uncle alternately ignored or mistreated the boy. The child seemed to live in the cupboard, locked away out of sight for hours at a time. He was forced to work harder than any house-elf, half-starved, and slapped, punched, and shoved around by the very people who should have protected and cared for him.

And then he came to Hogwarts. For the first time he had friends and felt wanted and loved. But there were secrets and dangers at the school, too, and abuse. Severus saw the boy and his friends in their first Potions class. He saw himself striding through his old classroom, snapping out his traditional opening day lecture. He saw the boy diligently taking notes and himself baiting the child.

Severus watched as the next few years went by. He saw the trials and triumphs, many of which he already knew of, but it was different to see things from the boy's perspective. He saw himself, mocking and ridiculing him at every turn, taking every opportunity to hurt and humiliate the child. And not just this child, but many of the others as well.

For the first time Severus felt remorse for the way he had treated his students. It was true that many of them were dunderheads and Severus had never had any patience for idiocy...but was it possible that their fear of him had been at least part of the reason for their clumsiness and incompetence? But no matter. There was no excuse for the way he had taken out his own pain and fear on them. The children had deserved better.

Harry Potter had deserved better.

The final scene, of the boy leaving the headmaster's office, knowing that he had to sacrifice himself, ended. The room became dark and still again.

But Severus was no longer alone.

He knew who would be sitting beside him even before he turned his head.

"Albus," he stated. His voice was thick and he realised for the first time that tears were silently slipping down his cheeks.

His old mentor turned to face him, grief written across his face as well. But instead of commenting on the Potter boy's travesty of a life or on Severus' shortcomings, Dumbledore placed a hand on his shoulder and said softly, "Well done, Severus. Congratulations."

Severus could only stare at him speechlessly for a long moment. He had always suspected that Dumbledore was not completely sane, but congratulations at this moment seemed absurd even for him. Dumbledore simply gazed back at him, seeming sad but serene. The older wizard looked much the same as Severus remembered, except that both his hands were healed and whole. His long silver hair and beard were neatly combed and he wore golden robes and slippers, so bright they almost sparkled.

Finally Severus managed to sputter, "What?" He waved a hand towards the screen. "Did you not see any of that? I failed him. I..."

"I failed him, Severus," Dumbledore interrupted. "I left him with the Dursleys. I ignored Minerva's warnings. I never went to check on him. I refused to see the signs, because I had convinced myself that there was no other choice and I didn't want to admit that I might have made such a costly error, that I was responsible for a great deal of Harry's pain."

Severus shook his head. "I misjudged him and mistreated him. You tried to tell me, but I couldn't see past my own pain. I have always been a selfish, cruel person," he finished in a low voice.

"At times, yes," Dumbledore replied calmly. "But not always. You have served the Light faithfully, saving many innocent lives and often suffering and risking your own to do so. You have stayed the course, no matter the cost, and you have contributed greatly to today's victory."

"Victory?" Severus raised his head.

Dumbledore nodded and smiled, though his blue eyes were still sorrowful. "Yes, victory. Voldemort will die soon, if he has not already. All the horcruxes are destroyed so he will truly be gone this time. But it is victory with a high price."

"Potter's life," Severus said softly.

But Dumbledore shook his head. "No, Lily's protection saved him once more. Harry was able to return. Voldemort will die at his hand today."

Slowly Severus smiled. "It was not in vain."

"No, not in vain. But I fear for Harry still," Dumbledore replied in a grave tone.

"Why?"

"Because he has lost everyone. Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley have died, as have most of the Weasley family. Harry is more alone now than ever." Dumbledore's blue eyes pierced Severus. "He needs you."

Severus blinked at him, wondering if he had heard correctly. "Needs me? But I'm...here. I'm dead, aren't I?"

Dumbledore did not answer directly. "Severus, you know how often I tried to convince you to give Harry a chance? How I never gave up on trying to force a reconciliation between the two of you?"

Severus nodded, a tad impatiently.

"Well, at the time I had a feeling, but now it is much more. I know that you and Harry were meant to be together. Harry has always longed for a parent. You need someone to care for. For both of you, the greatest desire of your heart is to have a family, to love and be loved. You can heal Harry, and he can heal you."

Severus sighed. "But I'm dead."

Dumbledore gave him an indulgent smile, as a parent explaining something to a stubborn child. "Yes, but you are being given a second chance. It is a rare thing, Severus, not often granted. But, as I said, you and Harry were meant to be together and even death cannot prevent it."

"So I have to go back?" Severus asked. He wasn't sure he liked that idea. He had been ready to leave all the pain and sorrow behind. To learn that he had to go back to it after all...

"No, it is your choice," Dumbledore replied. "You can leave the cinema and go on, if you wish. But if you go back, I think you will not regret it. You need Harry as much as he needs you, though that might not be apparent right away."

Severus slumped, resting his head in his hands. He didn't want this. He didn't. But he kept seeing images of Harry Potter in his mind: the little boy weeping in the cupboard, the stoic resignation on his face as he sat in Potions class, the dull hopelessness in his eyes...Lily's eyes...as he left to walk to his death, or so he had thought.

And now, with Weasley and Granger gone, the boy was truly alone. Severus knew how close the three of them had been. He honestly couldn't imagine Potter being able to carry on without them.

No, not Potter. Harry. He was going to have to start thinking of the child as Harry.

Severus sighed and raised his head. "Very well, Albus. I shall go back."

St. Mungo's Hospital, London, England, May 1998

Severus had faced many terrifying things in his life, but he couldn't remember ever being as afraid as he was now, standing in the hospital hallway, staring at the closed door to Harry Potter's room.

He was being ridiculous. It wasn't as if the boy were going to attack him. Indeed, if what the Healers had told him were true, Harry wouldn't respond to him at all. It had been three days since the final battle, three days since Harry had learned of his friends' deaths and since that time he had not spoken or responded to anyone. He seemed to have retreated completely into his own world. The Healers called it ‘a dissociative reaction to grief and shock'. Severus thought that the boy's heart and spirit had been broken and that he had given up on life.

It had also been three days since Severus had returned from the afterlife...if it had truly happened at all and had not been some strange hallucination. As soon as he had stated his willingness to return, everything around him had faded to black and when he had opened his eyes, he had been lying in a bed in the Hogwarts infirmary, with his neck bandaged, and with Minerva McGonagall, Filius Flitwick, and Pomona Sprout sitting beside him.

As soon as he had awoken, they had fallen on him with remorseful apologies...Pomona had sobbed aloud, to Severus' alarm...and with explanations.

The battle had apparently ended some hours earlier and when Minerva had gone to the headmaster's office, Albus' portrait had explained to her that Severus had been on their side all along, that he had followed Albus' orders and had been continuing with his spying duties all through that long last horrible year. The portrait had also given her instructions on where to find a vial filled with Albus' memories, memories that would exonerate Severus when viewed in a Pensieve.

Always sensible, Minerva had promptly summoned Kingsley Shacklebolt and the two of them had watched the images in Albus' Pensieve together. So when Severus had been discovered, lying unconscious in the Shrieking Shack a short time later, Shacklebolt had declared him innocent and he had been taken to the infirmary to be tended to, rather than banished to a holding cell to await trial.

"We can never tell you how sorry we are, Severus," Minerva had sounded tearful herself and her eyes were unusually bright. "We should have known."

Severus had tried to wave a hand in dismissal and had noted with surprise how weak he was. "Doesn't matter," he had said, his voice a raspy whisper. "Pot...Harry, where is he?"

The three of them had stared blankly at him. Finally Minerva had managed to say, "Harry? You're asking for Harry?"

If he had not been so weak, Severus could have made any number of caustic remarks at their dim-wittedness. But all he had been able to do had been to give a slight nod.

It had been one of the rare times that Minerva had looked unsettled. "Harry is at St. Mungo's. He himself is not injured. At least I don't believe he had any serious injuries, but..." and then her voice had choked and tears had begun streaming down her cheeks. Pomona Sprout had begun sobbing again, and it had been Filius who had had to finish.

"Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger were killed in the battle, Severus," the tiny professor had told him, his own voice filled with grief. "When Harry found out, he seemed to go into shock and Poppy felt that it would be best to take him to St. Mungo's where Mind-Healers could care for him. Hagrid is staying with him."

Despite the weakness, Severus had immediately tried to get up, only to collapse back onto the pillows even before the other three professors could move to stop him.

"Severus!" Minerva had reproved sharply. "What are you doing? You have lost a tremendous amount of blood and you need to rest."

"Harry...need...go to him," Severus had tried to explain, hating the frailty that sapped his strength and kept him bed-ridden. He had come back to this place to be with Harry and damn it, he wanted to go to him.

"You're not going anywhere just yet, Severus Snape," Minerva had replied sternly. "Poppy would have our heads if we let you out of bed in this condition. You're to rest and take blood-replenisher every four hours. Then we'll see how you're doing tomorrow."

Sheer frustration had given Severus strength and he had glared fiercely at her. "Need to be...with Harry...it is...important."

Filius had patted his arm. "Severus, Harry is likely unconscious. It has been a long hard day and I imagine that the Healers have given him a sedative to help him sleep. You need to rest as well. You can see Harry tomorrow."

But Severus hadn't been able to go to St. Mungo's the next day either. Poppy had finally released him that next afternoon, but Kingsley Shacklebolt and several other Aurors had been waiting for him. Shacklebolt might have declared him innocent, but the Wizengamot had still wanted to hear the explanations from Severus himself.

So Severus had spent the next two days meeting with the council of barristers and Aurors, answering their endless questions, but in the end, it had been worthwhile. He had been completely exonerated and found innocent of all charges.

Legally, anyway.

And now it was the third day. Severus had left the Ministry and gone straight to St. Mungo's. He had spoken with Healers about Harry's condition, and now, finally he was ready to begin his new mission in life: to care for Harry and to give him a reason to live again.

But to do that, he would have to see Harry and speak with him, and all of sudden, Severus was terrified. He had always prided himself on his courage. He had fearlessly faced Voldemort, Death Eaters, and classrooms of clumsy adolescents. Nothing had ever frightened him as much as the sight of the closed door leading into Harry's room.

Because when he entered and went to Harry, he would have to admit how wrong he'd been. He would have to apologise and ask for forgiveness. He would have to ask for another chance, one that he knew he did not deserve. He would have to leave himself open and vulnerable to rejection. Because of course Harry would reject him. What had Severus been thinking to have imagined that he and Harry Potter could ever have any kind of amicable relationship?

Scenes from the past flitted through Severus' mind with lightning speed...cruel jibes he had spoken, his towering rage when he had caught the boy in his Pensieve, Harry chasing after him the night Albus had died with his face twisted with uncharacteristic hate.

Severus almost turned and left. How could he and Harry ever get past that? Of course Harry would reject him, and then what was Severus supposed to do? Say, "Well, I'm very sorry, but Fate has apparently decreed otherwise and since I've come back from the dead, you shall have to make the best of it?"

Harry would think he was crazy. Perhaps he was crazy. But he had come here to be with Harry, to try to start over.

Severus took a deep breath and opened the door.

St. Mungo's Hospital, London, England, May 1998.

Severus had expected to find Hagrid within the room...he knew Harry's surviving friends would not leave him alone and Filius had said that Hagrid was staying with him. He was not prepared to see Neville Longbottom sitting in a chair beside the bed instead. For several long seconds the two of them simply stared at one another in astonishment.

Severus had not seen the Longbottom boy for a time, not since he had taken refuge in the Room of Requirement. But for much of the past year the boy had borne bruises and cuts from being abused by the Carrows and their followers. He had also grown taller and lost any hint of pudginess...the Carrows had denied food to some of the more recalcitrant students.

The bruises and cuts had now vanished and his light brown hair, which had grown rather shaggy, had been trimmed sometime within the past couple days. Neville Longbottom had turned out to be rather a handsome boy.

Severus knew that in the past, Longbottom had been frightened of him. He had even been the boy's boggart at one point, though Severus would bet money that that was no longer true. And indeed, the boy's grey eyes were watching him with surprise, but not fear.

Then Longbottom stood and nodded at him. "Professor Snape."

Severus entered the room and closed the door behind him before turning back to face Longbottom. "I'm not a professor anymore."

Longbottom actually smiled slightly, though his eyes remained grave. "You'll always be a professor to me, sir."

"Hmm." Severus hesitated, not at all sure what to say next. Neville Longbottom was one of the children that he had always treated badly, probably the worst after Harry himself. Longbottom's clumsiness and obvious fear had always irritated him and had brought out the worst in him, but the true reason for Severus' ire had had nothing to do with Longbottom himself.

Severus had realised that the main reason he had always disliked the boy was simply because Voldemort had chosen to target the Potters rather than the Longbottoms. If he had gone after them instead, Lily would likely be alive today.

But that was ridiculously unfair, and Severus was deeply ashamed. To have mistreated Harry and Neville Longbottom so badly, simply because they reminded him of his own worst mistakes was grossly unjust and immature. He owed this boy an apology as well, but apologies were so difficult for him. He had already steeled himself to do so with Harry, but he wasn't certain he could bring himself to apologise to Longbottom too.

Instead he turned his attention to the boy lying on the bed. Harry was dressed in light blue pyjamas and the blankets were pulled up to his waist. He lay curled on his side and his eyes were open, though he was not wearing his spectacles. They rested atop a small side table, which was covered with vases of flowers and balloon bouquets.

But even though he was awake, Harry's eyes were glassy and unfocused and he didn't seem to be aware of anything around him.

"He's been like that ever since we found out about Ron and Hermione," Longbottom said softly. "Hagrid's been with him, and Luna and I have come off and on. But all the Weasleys are gone, except for that brother who lives in Romania. Ginny's gone, too."

There was such a profound sadness in his voice that Severus felt compelled to respond. "I had heard," he said and he was surprised at how sorrowful his own voice sounded.

There was a pause and then Longbottom cleared his throat. "Thank you, sir, for watching out for us last year."

It was the very last thing that Severus had expected the boy to say and it was so unexpected that he couldn't respond for a long moment. He had tried, of course, to protect the students at Hogwarts as much as he could. But unfortunately, he had not been able to do very much.

A few times he had stopped the more horrific punishments by claiming students' lives were endangered and that Voldemort didn't want pure-blooded wizards killed. Other times he had insisted that the Carrows allow him the privilege of punishing students, and then he had been able to give them a more traditional detention rather than the torture sessions the Death Eaters delighted in. When Longbottom and some of the other children had hidden in the Room of Requirement, Severus had managed to surreptitiously leave food for them a few times.

But it had been so little.

He shook his head sharply. "I was not able to do very much," he replied in a gruff tone.

"You did what you could, sir. We knew that. We understood," Longbottom told him.

Severus did glance over at him, surprised. "You all knew which side I was on?" He had thought that he was a better spy than that.

"I don't think most of the students did, but Ginny and Luna and I...we knew when you caught us trying to take the sword. If you'd really been a Death Eater, you would have hurt us, or turned us over to the Carrows at the very least. But you didn't. You just sent us off with Hagrid. We knew not to say anything though. We never talked about it, even among ourselves." Longbottom gazed at him with frank honesty.

Suddenly the words came unbidden to Severus' tongue. "I regret the way I treated you for all those years, Longbottom. You are a very courageous young man. I hope you will accept my apology."

The boy stared at him and then nodded. "Yes, sir. I accept it."

"Thank you." Severus looked back at Harry and hoped against hope that he would able to forgive him too...if Severus could figure out a way to get through to him.

He cleared his throat. "I realise I am asking for a great deal, but I need to be alone with Harry for a little while."

Longbottom looked uncertain but finally he nodded again. "All right. I'll wait outside."

He turned and knelt beside the bed. "Professor Snape is here, Harry, but it'll be all right. I'll be outside and Hagrid will be coming back soon, too."

Then he left and Severus was finally alone with Harry.

Slowly he walked over to the bed. He hesitated, but then he knelt too, so that he and Harry were face to face, though if the boy actually saw him he gave no sign of it.

Severus swallowed hard. Over the past two days, in between rounds of questioning by the Wizengamot, he had mentally composed and rehearsed a speech for when he and Harry were together, but now that the moment was upon him, Severus could not recall a single word.

The silence stretched out awkwardly and finally, desperate to begin somehow, Severus said, "Hello."

He shook his head in disgust at himself. Of all the inane beginnings he could have come up with!

"Harry, I...I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. Truly. I know I was wrong, completely wrong about you and I'm so very sorry. You see, I...died, I suppose, and then..." Severus went on, trying to explain about his experiences in the afterlife and how he had come to see that he had misjudged Harry. He still felt delusional, talking about a giant cinema on some nebulous plane of existence, but he thought that if anyone could understand it would be Harry.

"I regret it all, child, and I hope that you will give me a chance to make amends." Severus finished.

Harry still simply lay there motionless, staring ahead with blank, unseeing eyes. Severus slowly reached out with one hand and lightly brushed the boy's hair back from his forehead.

"I know you don't want to be here," he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft and gentle. "You loved them and they loved you. It's very hard, I know. But there are still people here who care for you, Harry. Don't leave them. Don't leave us."

He continued to card his fingers through Harry's hair. "Yes, I care for you, too, though you may not believe that right now. But give me the chance to prove it." Severus bowed his head and whispered, "Please."

In spite of the blankets and the warm springtime weather, Harry's skin was as cold as ice. Severus hesitated a long moment, but then he moved to lift Harry by his shoulders, wrapped the blankets more securely around him, and sat on the edge of the bed, taking the child in his arms and holding him close.

At first Severus was awkward and rigid. He didn't even know the last time he had embraced anyone and there was a part of him that still found it mind-boggling that he was hugging Harry Potter, of all people. But somehow, someway, over the past few days, he had grown to care about the boy and he was desperate to reach him.

Gradually Severus' tense muscles began to relax and he held Harry close to his heart, murmuring softly, "Come back, child. We will help you through this and it will get better. It will. Come back to us."

Still he was shocked when Harry stirred in his arms and he looked down to find the child gazing him with awareness.

Harry didn't comment on the impossibility of the situation. His eyes filled with tears and he whispered, "Ron and Hermione...they're dead."

Severus was surprised to find a lump in his throat. He could only nod.

"I dreamed about them," Harry went on, so softly that Severus almost couldn't hear him. "They told me you were coming, that everything would be all right."

Severus found his voice. "It will be," he said solemnly, as if making a vow. "It will be."

Spinner's End, northern England, December 1998

"I need to finish the order from St. Mungo's today," Severus remarked as he and Harry finished breakfast. "You're meeting Neville and Luna in London, aren't you?"

Harry shook his head. "Change of plans. Neville's gran is sick and he didn't want to leave her, and Hagrid's got his hands full with the baby hippogryffs and asked Luna if she would mind working this week and helping out."

"Oh," Severus looked concerned. "Well, I'll notify St. Mungo's that the order will be late and we'll do something together."

But Harry shook his head. "That's all right, Severus. You go ahead and brew. I can entertain myself for one day."

Severus didn't look convinced. "It's no trouble, Harry. I can brew tonight."

"Really, Severus, it's all right," Harry assured him. "I'll go for a walk. I've been wanting to explore Spinner's End."

"That will be a short walk," Severus replied dryly.

"Well, there's a big field beyond the town. Maybe I'll take my Firebolt and do some flying, too," Harry told him.

Severus didn't look convinced so Harry made himself sound firm. "I'll be fine, Severus. Go ahead and work on the potions. I'll see you at lunch."

Finally Severus nodded and stood. "Very well, but don't forget to cast a Disillusionment Charm before you fly. Spinner's End is a Muggle town, remember. And be sure to take your coat. It's been quite a cold winter this year."

Harry stood, too. "I will."

He carried his plate and glass to the sink, and he and Severus quickly cast cleaning spells on the dishes and pans. When everything was spotless and had been put away, Harry left the cramped kitchen and crossed the front living room to the coat closet. He pulled out his thick brown coat, scarf, hat, and gloves, and bundled up. Then he summoned his Firebolt and started to open the door.

Severus came in from the kitchen. "Harry, I can postpone the order. You are more important to me than anything else."

Harry knew that. Severus' actions over the past six months had made it plain that caring for Harry was his top priority, but it still made him feel soft and warm inside to hear his guardian say so aloud.

But he actually wanted to be by himself for a while. It had been half a year since the battle, and still his surviving friends rarely left him alone. Almost always now, he was with Severus, and Neville, Luna, and Hagrid kept him occupied the rest of the time.

Even at night, it was hard to have privacy. At first Severus had even moved a cot into Harry's bedroom and when he'd finally accepted that Harry didn't need that constant a companion, the rooms at their tiny house were so close together that there still wasn't much privacy. Harry was grateful to have people who cared for him so much, and most of the time he was glad he didn't have to be alone with his memories, but once in a while he did want some solitude and this was one of those times.

So now, even though he was touched by his guardian's concern, Harry smiled and shook his head.

"I know, Severus," he said softly. "But I'll be all right. You need to finish that order because we've got to decorate the house for Christmas tomorrow." It was mid-December and many of the homes in Spinner's End were already bedecked with garland and wreaths.

Severus still looked concerned, but he only said, "I will see you at lunch then."

As he headed for the narrow staircase that led to a cellar, renovated into a make-shift potions lab, Harry opened the front door and stepped outside.

It was cold, even more so than usual for this time of year. Snow covered the ground and the nearby river had frozen into an icy serpentine. Harry checked to be sure no one was in sight and then shrunk his Firebolt and slipped it into his coat pocket. Then he set out down the twisting street, its cobblestones covered by a snowy blanket.

The other houses lining the street were carbon copies of the one where he and Severus lived...narrow two story brick homes, plain and simple, with narrow gardens in back. Spinner's End was a small industrial town, most of whose residents had once worked in the local textile mill. With the closing of the factory, many people had left and abandoned houses were a common sight, but there were still some families who remained, struggling to eke out a living or commuting to the city.

Whatever else it might be, Spinner's End was not a picturesque town and it was hardly the place where one would expect to find a wealthy, famous battle hero residing. But Harry had never wanted fame, and he had never thought much about his wealth beyond being grateful that he was able to be independent.

Moreover, Spinner's End had been a convenient place to come to, with no memories for Harry, at least. When he had been released from St. Mungo's back at the end of May, he had really had no idea of where he could go to live, nor had he much cared. Nothing had been very important then.

But there had been places where he had known that he couldn't bear to stay...Grimmauld Place and Hogwarts. Harry still owned the townhouse in London, but he couldn't imagine ever living there. And Hogwarts...he had lost Hogwarts that day in May, too. Harry had always considered the castle to be his home, the first true home he had ever known. But now there were too many painful memories associated with it. He couldn't even think of the castle without remembering Ron and Hermione.

Severus had not wanted to return to the school either, and when he had suggested that they stay at his old childhood home in Spinner's End, Harry had agreed. One place was as good as another, just so long as it didn't bring back memories of happier times.

And he hadn't wanted to leave Severus. It was crazy. At one time Harry would have never believed that he and Severus would have become so close, and for it to have happened so quickly. Everyone else had had lots of trouble believing it. Harry had a feeling that the others had seriously considered having the two of them committed to the psychiatric ward.

But Severus' afterlife experience had changed him...somewhat anyway. He was still very reserved towards most people, and he could be sharp-tongued and aloof. But he was no longer cruel. Indeed, with Harry, he was actually kind and gentle...loving, even.

For Harry's part, he believed that Ron and Hermione had come to him to comfort him and to help him accept Severus into his life. Harry wasn't sure exactly when it had happened, only that sometime during the three days after the battle when he had been in St. Mungo's, practically catatonic, he had dreamed of his lost friends, a vision so vivid and so real that he had never doubted its authenticity.

***

The three of them had sat together in a wide green field dotted with flowers, wearing jeans and Gryffindor sweatshirts, laughing together.

"You did it, Harry," Ron had said. "Voldemort's gone and everyone can be free now."

"We did it," Harry had corrected him. "Together."

Hermione had reached to hold both their hands. "Together," she had said softly. Then she had turned to gaze intently into Harry's eyes. "And we'll always be together, Harry, even though it may not seem so."

"But you can't leave me," Harry had pleaded. "I need you both. You're my best friends."

Ron had reached over to take his hand, too. "We aren't really leaving you, Harry. We'll always be near. But things just can't be the way they have been."

"Why not? Why can't I come with you?" Harry had felt as if pieces of his heart were being ripped from his chest, the pieces that had belonged to Ron and Hermione.

Hermione had smiled sadly. "It just isn't your time yet. But it's going to be all right, Harry. Really it is. There are other people who love you too. In fact, that's part of the reason why Ron and I were able to come to you like this. We need to tell you to give Professor Snape a chance."

Harry had blinked at her in utter confusion. "Professor Snape?"

"Yeah, believe it or not, there's a lot more to him than we knew," Ron had said.

Harry had remembered the scenes from the Pensieve. "Yeah, I know."

"He's going to come to you, Harry, as soon as he can, and you need to give him another chance," Hermione had instructed. "Try to forgive him. He may not know how to say it, but he is really sorry for hurting you, and if you let him, he'll love you, and you'll love him, too."

Harry had looked at her as if she were crazy.

"Yeah, it sounds mental, doesn't it?" Ron had agreed. "But it's true, mate. Give him a chance, and one day you'll be happy again."

Harry's eyes had filled with tears. "I can't be happy without you."

Hermione's eyes had grown bright, too and she had leaned over to kiss his cheek. "Oh, Harry, don't say that. You will be, I promise."

Harry had shaken his head. "It's all my fault," he had whispered, his voice choked with tears. "If you hadn't met me..."

Ron and Hermione had both cut him off.

"Harry, don't be stupid!"

"Harry James Potter, don't you ever say anything like that again, or even think it because Ron and I will know and it's not true. At all."

The fierceness had faded from Hermione's voice and she continued more softly. "Harry, you're the best thing that ever happened to us. Ron and I could never regret meeting you. I wish we'd had more time with you, but the time we did have was perfect and I wouldn't trade it for anything."

"Me either." Ron's voice had been ususually solemn. "And Harry, it's going to be all right. Right now...it's just like we're in different classes, but soon class will be over and then you'll be here with us."

"Ron and I will watch over you until we're together again," Hermione had promised.

They had wrapped their arms around him and the three of them had held each other close for a timeless moment.

Finally they had drawn apart and Hermione had whispered, "You have to wake up now, Harry. But remember what we've said."

"Oh, and will you write to Charlie? Tell him we're all right, and that Mum and Dad said it's time for him to marry that pretty girl he's been dating and start another Weasley family," Ron added.

Unable to speak, Harry had nodded.

Ron and Hermione had squeezed his hands.

"We love you, Harry," Ron had said.

Hermione had smiled at him. "We love you. Always remember that."

Their voices had still been echoing in Harry's ears when he had woken.

***

Lost in his memories, Harry wandered along, turning down one street and then another. He was abruptly brought back to the present by a sudden explosion and a man's hoarse shout. Looking up, he saw a horrifying sight. The house on the corner was engulfed in flames, and a man was standing by an upstairs window. He had somehow broken the glass and was leaning out, but it was a sheer drop down.

"I'm coming!" Harry called. He hesitated just an instant, but there was no time to waste. He snatched his Firebolt from his pocket, enlarged it back to normal size and leaped on, speeding towards the burning house and the man trapped inside.

Blazing heat struck Harry's face as he approached the burning house. For a minute he remembered flying through the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts, chased by Fiendfyre demons, but this was no time for dwelling on his memories and Harry pushed those thoughts away.

He angled the Firebolt close to the window and shouted above the crackling flames, "Can you get on?"

The man nodded and took Harry's arm as he awkwardly climbed out of the window and settled himself on the broomstick behind Harry.

Harry guided them back to the ground a safe distance away. For an instant the two of them regarded one another. The man was tall and lean, probably in his late fifties or early sixties, with thick silver hair and blue eyes. He wore a dark red jumper, khaki trousers, and black shoes. He opened his mouth to speak but just then several fire engines spun around the corner with their sirens blaring and firefighters already leaping off, ready to battle the inferno.

One of the firefighters looked around, and seeing Harry and the man standing there, hurried over.

"Anyone inside?" He shouted.

The man shook his head. "No, I live there alone. No pets either."

"Good. Are you injured?"

The man shook his head again. "No, this young man got me out in time."

The firefighter glanced at Harry. "Good work, son." He strode back to the fire engines and joined his comrades in putting out the blaze.

The man turned to Harry. "Simply saying ‘thank you' seems a bit inadequate, but thank you."

Harry was always embarrassed whenever anyone expressed gratitude. He mumbled "You're welcome," and wondered if he could sneak off before the man happened to remember exactly how Harry had saved him.

It occurred to Harry that he was going to have to explain to Severus that he had flown his broom in front of a Muggle, and that they would likely have to notify the Ministry of Magic to come out and modify the man's memory, unless Severus could take care of that himself. Oh, it was going to be such a headache.

But what choice had there been, really? He couldn't have left the man inside the burning house, and any other way of saving him would have been risky and might have taken too long.

These thoughts flitted through his mind in seconds. He was trying to think of a way he could quickly leave and get back home when the man gestured at the broomstick and remarked casually, "So you're a wizard, huh?"

Harry gaped at him, shocked. "You know...?"

The man nodded. "Yes, I was married to a witch once. My son was a wizard too. But that was a long time ago."

"Oh," Harry wasn't sure exactly what to say in response. But if the man already knew about the wizarding world, then maybe the Ministry wouldn't have to be involved.

He relaxed a little and smiled at the man. "Well, would you mind not telling anyone about the broom and flying and all?'

The man raised an eyebrow. "Ah, the statute of secrecy." He nodded. "It's the least I can do."

"Thanks." Harry looked back at the house, where firefighters where using great hoses of water and foam to battle the blaze. "I'm sorry about your house."

The man sighed. "Well, it's not really mine. My old house is occupied right now so I've been renting this one. It's been one problem after another from the first day, too. First the plumbing, then the heating system went out. I told the owner that the whole place needed an overhaul." He shrugged. "Too late now, I suppose."

"What will you do now?" Harry asked in concern. He considered inviting the man to stay with Severus and himself, at least for a few days until he could figure something else out. But this man was a complete stranger and Harry thought that he should probably talk with Severus about it first.

On the other hand, he couldn't just abandon the man with no place to go.

Harry was trying to figure out what he should do, when the man solved the problem for him.

"Oh, I've still got a few friends in Spinner's End. I can stay with some of them for a time." The man looked back at him and seemed to forget about the fire. Harry thought there was an eager look in his eyes, quickly hidden, when he asked. "So what's your name, young man?"

Harry hesitated, but he couldn't really see any harm in telling him. "Harry," he said, but decided at the last minute to leave off his last name.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Harry, though I wish the circumstances had been better. So you're living at the old Snape house with your father?"

Harry frowned, suddenly feeling a little suspicious. "How did you know that?"

"Spinner's End is a small town. Most folks around here know one another, and I've seen you once or twice while I was out walking," the man replied easily.

Harry supposed that could be true, but he'd had enough people targeting him in the past that it made him uneasy. He slipped his hand into his pocket and fingered his wand.

"I need to be going," he announced. "Good luck."

The man seemed surprisingly dismayed. "No, wait. I'd like to do something to thank you for saving my life."

Harry shook his head while moving away. "Thank you, but that isn't necessary. I was happy to help."

"But I'd really like to..." the man reached for his arm and Harry made an instant decision. If the firefighters or any other Muggles saw him Apparate...well, that was just too bad. He wasn't going to risk letting some escaped Death Eater capture him.

He spun on the spot and disappeared; re-appearing a second later in the living room of his own home. "Severus!"

The Potions Master hurried up from the cellar just as Harry was racing to meet him. They almost collided at the top of the stairs. Severus caught Harry's arms and pulled him back into the living room.

"Harry, what is it?"

"Somebody knows who we are, and where we live, and I don't know who he is, but he tried to grab at me, and he might be one of the Death Eaters and..." Harry's words tumbled on top of one another in his haste to explain everything at once.

Severus gave him a gentle shake. "Have you had a Babbling Beverage? Calm down and tell me what's happened."

So Harry took a deep breath and explained it all more slowly. When he was finished, Severus looked grim.

"So this man said he had been married to a witch and had a son who was a wizard?"

Harry nodded.

Severus considered. "And from the things he said, it seems that he is familiar with Spinner's End."

Harry nodded again. "Yes, I suppose so," he said slowly.

"Well, I don't know for certain, but I don't believe you encountered a Death Eater." Severus scowled.

"I believe that man is my father."

Harry gaped at him. "Your father!"

Severus raised an eyebrow at him. "Well, did you think I simply appeared one day, as a fully grown adult with a cauldron in one hand and a jar of beetle eyes in the other?"

"No, of course not, but you never talk about your parents," Harry answered lamely.

"With good reason," Severus commented dryly. "Neither of them would have won any Parent of the Year awards. Besides, my mother is dead and I haven't seen my father in years."

"So what makes you think this guy is him?" Harry asked.

"Think about it logically, Harry," Severus replied. "He claims to have been married to a witch and to have a son who is a wizard. He seems to be familiar with the area. Spinner's End is a small town. To the best of my knowledge, the only magical people here for many generations were my mother, myself, and Lily Evans. Excuse me, Lily Potter. Petunia is the only living member of the Evans family...well, besides your cousin and yourself, so it seems sensible that this man would be Tobias Snape."

Harry took a deep breath and fully relaxed. The man had not been a Death Eater. "Yeah, that makes sense."

"Still, to be safe, I should confirm it. Let's go back together and I'll see if I recognise him," Severus said, moving to the closet to pull out a long black woolen coat.

Harry moved to open the front door, but Severus stopped him.

"Wait." Severus took his wand and cast a Disillusionment Charm over both of them. "There. It's not quite as good as your invisibility cloak, but I don't think anyone will see us. Just in case this man should mean us any harm, it would be wise for us not to be seen."

Once outside, Severus cast another charm to hide their footprints in the snow and they set off. When they came to the end of their street, Harry paused uncertainly. He'd been lost in his memories and hadn't paid much attention to where he'd been going, but he thought he had turned right, and sure enough, after a few minutes they could hear the fire engines and the sounds of commotion.

When they drew near the sight of the burning house, they stopped and looked around. Fortunately the fire fighters had gotten control of the blaze and it looked as if the fire were quickly dying down, leaving the house in charred ruins. A crowd of people had appeared, drawn by the noise and excitement and Harry had to search for several minutes before he spotted the man he had saved.

"There he is," he whispered, touching Severus' arm and surreptitiously pointing.

The man was standing some distance away, talking with one of the firefighters.

Severus' lips tightened. "Yes, that's him," he said tersely. "Well, he's not a Death Eater. We can return home."

He turned to go, but paused when he realised that Harry hadn't moved. "Harry?"

Harry dragged his gaze from Tobias Snape and his ruined home to look, almost apologetically, at Severus. "Do you think he'll be all right?"

Severus looked as if he didn't much care, but he nodded. "He's a grown man, Harry. I'm sure he'll be fine."

Harry hesitated another minute, but Severus obviously had bad feelings towards his father, and Harry wasn't sure if he could really blame him. Ever since he'd seen some of the Potions Master's memories in the Pensieve back in fifth-year, he'd had the impression that Severus' childhood had been unhappy, and Severus had implied as much just a short while ago, too.

"All right," he said softly and went to join Severus. They made their way home in silence.

"I have finished the order," Severus commented as they entered the front door. "Would you like to do something together this afternoon?"

"Sure," Harry agreed. He had wanted to be alone earlier, but that feeling had worn off. He was happy to spend time with his guardian...though that still seemed unbelievable sometimes...but even more he thought that Severus wanted to spend time with him too. The Potions Master was very good at hiding his emotions and always presenting a cool, calm façade, but Harry had learned to understand him better these past months.

Severus wouldn't just come out and tell Harry that he wanted for them to spend time together, but that was only because he was afraid of letting himself be vulnerable. Harry knew that over the years Severus had experienced a lot of rejection and it was still hard for him to open up. But there would be a look in his eyes, a certain undertone in his voice, that let Harry know that Severus really did want his company, that he wanted for them to be together too.

And right now Severus' eyes had a haunted look, as if seeing Tobias Snape had brought back some unwelcome memories. Even if he had still wanted to be alone, Harry couldn't have left him now. After all, Severus was always there for him when Harry was hurting.

He decided to try to distract Severus. "So what shall we do?"

Severus glanced around. "Well, the house needs cleaning."

Harry made a face. "You can do better than that."

Severus smiled and the haunted expression disappeared. "Or we could go to London, eat lunch at the Leaky Cauldron, and perhaps do a little sight-seeing this afternoon."

"London, definitely," Harry said with a grin.

One time not long ago, when he and Severus had talked about the Dursleys, Harry had mentioned that he'd never seen a lot of the famous sites that everyone else had. The Dursleys had certainly never taken him along on family trips and even when he'd been with the Weasleys and his friends, they had pretty much stayed close to Diagon Alley. That very day Severus had whisked him off to tour the Museum of Quidditch in Aberdeen. Since then they had also been to Loch Ness, the Tower of London, and Westminster Abbey.

"I thought you might say that," Severus remarked.

So they Flooed to the Leaky Cauldron, had shepherd's pie and treacle tart for lunch, and spent the afternoon wandering through the British Museum. In the evening, they decided on the spur of the moment to attend a Christmas concert and it was quite late when they returned to their house in Spinner's End.

Several times throughout the day Harry found himself wondering about Tobias Snape and hoped that he was all right, but the man had said that he had friends to stay with, and Harry's first loyalty was to Severus.

But he did hope that things were working out for Tobias Snape.

Harry slept late the next morning. Severus had finished his breakfast and was sipping his second cup of coffee when Harry finally made it downstairs to the kitchen.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to sleep in," Harry told him as he scooped eggs and sausage onto his plate.

"No matter," Severus shrugged. "We have all day to decorate the house."

But he was quiet and then in an increasingly bad temper as they struggled to set up the tree in the living room. Harry had seen Professor Flitwick and Mr. Weasley put up Christmas trees before and with the use of magic, it didn't seem very difficult, but Severus couldn't be pleased today. First the tree was too close to the door. Then it was too tall for the ceiling; the angel on top would be crushed. Then it was too big for the parlour. They didn't have room to turn around, Severus claimed.

With an uncharacteristic burst of temper, the Potions Master slammed his wand down on a side table.

"This house is ridiculously small! We never should have come here," he snapped and stalked out of the living room and into the kitchen.

Harry stared after him in surprise. It really wasn't like Severus at all to lose control. Harry had seen him do it a few times before, but only under severe provocation. Obviously seeing his father again had upset him more than Harry had realised.

He followed Severus into the kitchen. The Potions Master was standing by the sink, staring with unseeing eyes through a window into the grey lifeless garden beyond.

"We don't have to stay here, Severus," Harry said softly. "We could go ahead and leave for Athens if you want."

He and Severus had planned to travel for a few months after the New Year, and Greece was the first country they were going to visit. They were going to look for a larger permanent home, preferably in the countryside, when they returned to Britain in the spring.

Severus sighed and closed his eyes for a second before opening them and turning to face Harry.

"I'm sorry," he said in a low voice. "I didn't mean to spoil the day for you. I wanted to give you a happy Christmas."

Harry came close and laid a hand on his arm. "You haven't spoiled the day, Severus. I don't know if it can be a happy Christmas, but we'll try. And if we need to go to a place where there are no bad memories for you either, then that's all right too."

But Severus shook his head. "No, I'll be fine. Shall we finish with the decorations?"

So they hung ornaments on the tree and stockings over the fireplace, but Severus' heart obviously wasn't in it, though he did make more of an effort to be agreeable. When they'd finished, he announced that he needed to pack up his potions ingredients.

"Well, I never did go flying yesterday, so maybe I'll go out to that field for a while," Harry said.

Severus only nodded and headed downstairs to the cellar.

Harry sighed, collected his Firebolt, and left the house. He briefly considered trying to find Tobias Snape to see if he had found a place to stay. But he had no idea of how to go about locating the man and besides, he didn't want to be disloyal to Severus. So he simply headed for the snowy field beyond the town, a wide place bordered by trees and with the twisting frozen river along one side.

It was marvelous to lose himself in the joy of flying and for a time, Harry could forget his troubles as he soared and spun through the air. He had been flying for some time when there was a hoarse cry from below and he realised, with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, that he had forgotten to cast a Disillusionment Charm.

Harry looked down to see a boy below staring up at him open-mouthed and pointing. Unfortunately, he was so distracted by the boy that he flew headfirst into a tall oak tree. There was a burst of pain in his head and then everything went black.

Severus had tried half-heartedly to pack away his stock of ingredients, but old memories kept distracting him. Finally he sighed in disgust and decided to clear his head by going for a walk. Maybe he'd go out to the field and find Harry. Another thing for him to feel guilty over...he'd acted like a sulky child while decorating the house earlier and he'd meant to make it fun for Harry.

He took his coat and left the house, walking in the direction of the field. But as he approached a horrifying sight met his eyes. A jagged hole lay in the middle of the river, sharp cracks radiating outwards through the ice and revealing deadly dark water underneath. Tobias Snape, holding an unconscious Harry in his arms, was struggling to make his way up the riverbank. Both of them were soaking wet and the water was already freezing into ice on their clothes.

With a sharp cry, Severus ran to help. He grabbed Tobias' arm, while at the same time levitating him and Harry as well so that an instant later all three of them were on safe ground.

Tobias fell to his knees, his teeth chattering so hard that he couldn't speak at first. Severus snatched Harry from his arms and laid the boy on the ground just long enough to cast drying and warming spells on him before taking him in his arms again, holding him close.

"Harry? Harry, speak to me," Severus said anxiously. He glared at Tobias in sudden fierce anger. "If you've harmed one hair on his head...!"

But Tobias shook his head. "He...he...in the river...got him out," he managed to say between violent shivers.

Severus slowly took his wand and sent warming and drying spells at his father, too.

"That's amazing," Tobias murmured, but then his own face creased with worry as he looked back at his son and the boy he believed to be his grandson.

Severus was cradling Harry to his chest, rocking back and forth slightly. His mask had dropped and his face and voice were filled with fear as he spoke.

"Harry, don't leave me. You can't leave me now. You're everything to me and I need you. Harry, I love you." Severus' voice broke and he bowed his head close to Harry's.

"I love you," he repeated in a strangled whisper.

Tobias spoke in a choked voice. "I think he needs a doctor. I'll go for help. Or can't you wizards just blink in and out of places?"

But just then Harry's eyes flickered and then opened. "Severus?"

Severus couldn't speak in reply, but just held him even closer. His eyes squeezed shut and a tear slipped down one cheek.

For a few moments Harry just leaned against him weakly, but finally he looked up and tried to explain. "Forgot the Disillusionment Charm. ‘M sorry, but this kid...he saw me." He looked at Severus with a worried expression.

"We'll take care of it. It'll be all right," Severus assured him. "Don't worry."

"Think I flew into a tree. Don't remember anything else," Harry mumbled.

"You must have fallen into the river," Severus said. He looked over at Tobias. "And you saw him?"

"Not at first," Tobias replied. "It was those other two kids..." He looked around suddenly. "Where'd they go anyway?"

"You and Harry were the only ones here when I arrived," Severus told him.

"But I was over on the other street, and suddenly this young girl was there. She told me to hurry, that Harry needed help. She led me here. And there was a red-haired boy in the river, too. He was holding Harry's head out of the water."

Severus and Harry both stared at him with pale faces and wide eyes. Then, in spite of his exhaustion, Harry smiled faintly.

"They really are with me still," he whispered.

Severus shook his head, looking dazed. "Well, however it may be, we need to get you to St. Mungo's."

He stood, helping Harry to his feet as well. Harry leaned against him and Severus kept his arms around him, supporting him.

"Severus, I don't have any right, but let me go with you," Tobias said, his voice low and almost pleading. "Harry's my grandson, isn't he?"

Severus and Harry looked at one another with startled expressions for a second, but then Severus slowly smiled at the boy. "Yes, he is."

He glared when he looked back at Tobias though and for a moment it seemed he would refuse. But finally he said in a grudging tone. "Take my arm."

Tobias did so, and an instant later the field was empty.

It was late afternoon when the three of them returned home from St. Mungo's. Harry had been given a clean bill of health, and stern admonitions to be more careful in the future.

"No need to worry," he commented glumly as they stepped out of the fireplace into the living room. "I lost my Firebolt."

"Perhaps not," Severus said quietly.

Harry looked at him and the Potions Master indicated the Christmas tree. Harry caught his breath. His Firebolt lay underneath, as good as new, with a note attached.

Harry knelt and took the note. There were two lines, each in different but familiar handwriting.

Happy Christmas, mate! in Ron's loopy scrawl and We love you! in Hermione's neat printing.

Harry's eyes filled with tears, but at the same time he felt happier than he had since May.

Eventually though he became aware of the tense silence in the room and looked up to see Severus and Tobias staring at one another.

Tobias cleared his throat several times before saying uncomfortably, "Severus, I know I made a lot of mistakes with you. I don't deserve another chance...but I'm asking for one anyway. I'm sorry for everything. I know that I can never make it up to you, but if you'll let me, I'll never stop trying."

Severus didn't speak for a long time. Finally he looked down at Harry and his gaze softened.

"Not very long ago, someone gave me another chance that I didn't deserve," he said quietly.

He turned back to his father and slowly held out his hand. "How can I do less?"

Tobias smiled and reached out to clasp his son's hand.

Harry stood and stepped close to Severus, twining his arms around his waist. Severus smiled at him and wrapped his other arm around Harry's shoulders.

Harry leaned against him, feeling warm and contented. Maybe it would be a happy Christmas after all.