Severus hastily fashioned two temporary Charms of Protection, made from two green ribbons, they were enchanted to prevent any dark wizard from touching or Apparating away with the children, for though he had sent Lucius fleeing with his tail between his legs, he knew the Death Eater was not beaten so easily, and would be back to stalk them, or hire it done.  Hiring, the Potions Master reflected, was more his style, for the aristocrat rarely dirtied his manicured hands with killing.  Unless ordered to by his dark master or bored, Severus thought sourly. But the charms would protect the children until he could fashion more permanent ones tomorrow.  He bound one about Harry's wrist and the other in Holly's hair.

Soon they were Flooing to Diagon Alley, stepping out of the fireplace of the Three Broomsticks.  Severus nodded to several of the patrons, who cast him curious glances, but none of them accosted him.  He beckoned to the two children and whispered in their ears, "I want you to stay near me, we're going to go shop for a few clothes for Holly first, and then Harry, you can go and shop for my present, while I browse in the bookstore.  And after, assuming we aren't trailed by a hundred annoying reporters, we can have lunch.  How does that plan sound?"

"Good," Harry said, he wasn't too thrilled with clothes shopping, but he knew that Holly needed clothes desperately, and so he didn't protest.

"Very good.  But sir, I mean Severus, y-you don't have to take me shopping." Holly stammered.  "You could just . . .uh . . .magic my clothes into different outfits."

"Holly, it takes more  energy to "magic" your clothes-as you put it-than it would to simply buy you them," explained Severus.  "Come, you may pick out ten outfits and some night clothes and underthings.  And shoes as well."

Severus took her to a small store called Tasha's Togs, which was less expensive than Madam Malkins or Twilfit and Tatlers, and catered especially to young witches without much money, selling affordable decent clothing in current styles.  The proprietoress, Tasha Miller, came herself to greet them, she was a former student of Severus's.  "Hello, Professor Snape.  Uh . . .are you looking to buy a gift for a niece or . . .or . . ." she floundered, knowing quite well that Severus had no daughter, only a son named Harry. She was tall with dark blond hair in a twist and a soft flowing crimson shirt, black pants and a multi-colored scarf wound about her waist, she looked to be about twenty-three.

"Actually, I was hoping to have your assistance in outfitting my ward, Holly," Severus said calmly, indicating Holly standing next to him.  Holly looked up at the tall witch and gave her a shy smile.

"Hi, I'm Tasha! Come this way, what kinds of colors do you like? With your hair color, I think you'd do well with mostly pastels and a few dark indigos and royal purples and emerald greens too. . ."

Harry and Severus waited near the shop entrance while Tasha competently helped Holly pick out ten outfits and night clothes and underwear.  Holly was extremely easy to please, and Tasha soon had her well in hand, whispering when they were far enough away that she was so lucky living with Professor Snape.  "Y'know, I had the biggest crush on him when I was in his class," Tasha confided with a little chuckle.  "The way he looked in that black robe . . .and his voice . . .gave me goosebumps just listening to him read out instructions.  I used to think about getting detention just so I could be alone with him, but of course I never dared . . ." She flashed a glance at the tall man and sighed dreamily.

"Really?  He's very nice to me," Holly confided.  "He knew my mother, she tutored him in Advanced Potions."

Tasha arched an eyebrow and giggled.  "She must have had fun doing that, I'll bet.  Anyway, all you need to do is pick out shoes and you're done.  Least for the winter." She gestured to the racks of shoes and boots.  "But then you get to come back in the summer, I hope, and check out my summer line, okay?"

Holly agreed, she liked the other witch, who did not sneer at her, nor did she seem to recognize her as the Squib Snape had rescued featured in the Prophet.

Once Holly's purchases were complete, Severus paid for them and then shrunk them to fit inside his pockets.  "And now, we can go over to the apothecary so Harry can pick out a present."

They followed him out of the store and across to the main street.  Unfortunately, they came out near the Leaky Cauldron, which was right next to the Daily Prophet offices, and as soon as the reporters caught sight of Severus, they descended upon them like a flock of seagulls upon a dead fish.

"Mr. Snape, what prompted you to rescue a Squib child from freezing?"

"Professor, is it true that you wrapped her in your own cloak in order to keep her warm?"

"Did your son fall on her, was that how you discovered her in the snowdrift?"

"What will become of her now that you have rescued her? Have you discovered her identity? Is she an orphan?"

"Would you be willing to do an interview along with your son for my column?"

Severus gritted his teeth, feeling as if he were being mobbed by about a dozen buzzing bees, all of them talking and shoving quills in his face.  Harry and Holly hid behind him, and prayed they went unnoticed.

Severus cleared his throat and said sharply, "One at a time, if you will!" he whirled upon the first reporter to question him, a rather fat balding man with a black camera about his neck.  "I rescued her because she was dying, if you must know, and it wouldn't have mattered if she were a Squib or a wizard, she was a helpless child, and didn't deserve to die like a stray dog alone." He gave the reporter a scintillating glare. 

The reporter gulped and backed off and Snape whirled upon the others, glowering like a falcon who has seen a large flock of sparrows.

Just then, one of the reporters spotted Harry crouched behind Severus and yelled, "You're the professor's son, aren't you? Tell me, what was your first thought upon coming across this girl frozen in the snow? Were you scared? Disgusted? Shocked? Inquiring minds want to know."

Harry backed away, grabbing Holly and pushing her along with him.  "Err . . .I don't know, it all happened so fast . . ."

Severus stepped inbetween the reporter and his son.  "Leave the boy be, you interfering vulture! I'll answer your questions.  Harry, go and shop for your present with Holly."

Harry heaved a sigh of relief and scrambled away, Holly following.

Behind them, they heard a voice cry, "Look, there she goes! The snow girl!"

"C'mon, quick! Before they try and interview you too," Harry beckoned, and Holly began to run after the slight wizard. 

People frowned at them, but made no move to stop them as they rushed down the street and into the safety of the apothecary. 

Harry breathed a humungous sigh of relief as they entered the apothecary, which was blessedly quiet and smelled delightfully of cinnamon and other spices.  "Phew! Thought for a minute they were gonna follow us like a pack of hounds."

"What about Severus? We left him there," Holly said, twisting her hands nervously in her shirt.

"He'll be all right.  Dad will have them shaking in their boots in five seconds, I'll bet," Harry laughed.  Then he glanced around the shop, heading for the shelf where the beakers were stored.  "I hope they still have the beakers and the potions book I saw in here last time."

"Before you tripped over me?" Holly queried.

"Uh, no, I was here with Dad last term and Mr. Theovar had a brand new set of glass beakers with silver stoppers that would label themselves when you poured a potion into them.  And there was a book of rare potion recipes that Dad was eying too, but he never buys himself stuff like that, and I saved my allowance for months so I could maybe get both." He shook a large pouch pointedly. 

Holly looked about at the shelves full of bottled herbs and powders and more plants hung in bunches from the ceiling and in baskets.  There was a row of small cauldrons and stirrers and a section of mortars and pestles and sharp knives for skinning and chopping as well as thin mesh cloths, aprons, gloves, and masks for protecting one's clothing and oneself from harmful potion fumes.  There were row upon row of containers and jars, measuring spoons and bowls, anything one might need to make elixirs and drafts.

"My mum would have loved this shop," Holly murmured sadly.  She sniffed and dashed a tear from her eye.  Then she glanced about and said, "I wish I could get Severus a present too.  How old will he be, Harry?"

"Uh . . .he'll be thirty. Same age as my real parents were when they died." He reached into his pouch and handed her a few Knuts and Sickles.  "Here.  If you want, you could go into the stationary store, it's right down the street from here.  Dad could always use some new quills and parchment, and this ought to cover it."

"Oh, but I couldn't . . .that's your money . . ."

"Yeah, so what? Here, I should have enough to get my present, take it." He shoved the money at her.

She took it, finding she wasn't too proud to accept money if it was for a birthday present.  "I'll . . .I'll pay you back, Harry. Thanks."

Harry blushed.  "Aww . . .don't worry about that, Holly."

She tucked the money in a pocket of her coat, then said, "I'll be right back.  It shouldn't take me too long to pick out a nice quill and some ink and parchment."

Harry nodded, then turned to peruse the beakers.

Holly reached Scribbulus' Everchanging Inks in two minutes, recalling lingering here when she was searching for work after being thrown out of the Malfoy mansion.  But the owner of the stationary store had refused her offer of employment once he discovered she was a Squib, like so many other shopkeepers, and had told her to clear out, that he didn't support charity cases and magicless folk.

She swallowed, reminding herself that she wasn't a street brat anymore, but a paying customer, and squared her shoulders and entered the shop.  Several other wizards and witches were inside, examining the wide array of quills and inks and reams of parchment. 

The store was divided into three sections-paper, pens, and ink.  Holly headed over to the quills first, she had always loved stroking and holding her mother's quill pens when she was small, and Valina had taught her to write with one before she was five.  She had a particularly fine pure white swan's feather, capped in gold with blue glitter dusted on it that she had used to write down her potions recipes.  Holly had to sell it along with the rest of her mother's possessions to the landlord for the rent. 

Recalling that quill made a lump come to her throat.  I'm sorry, Mum, that I had to sell all your stuff, if I'd been born with magic it would have been different.  I'm sorry I was such a disappointment.

Her hand reached out to caress a large peacock feather quill, it was far beyond her means, but she could picture Valina writing with it.  She smiled sadly.  Then her eye was caught by a slender quill that was silver edged with black.  She read the tag.

Peregrine Falcon Quill, 3 Sickles.  This quill has been enchanted to write legibly on any surface, including glass, and is especially good for labeling potion jars and beakers. 

Holly's face lit up.  That quill was perfect for Severus.  She picked it up, it came in a small wooden box, and then she turned to examine the ink and parchment section.  A sign beside the parchment section proclaimed there was a sale on white sheepskin, grade two parchment, suitable for writing grimoires and spellbooks. 

She began to make her way towards the shelf where the sale reams of parchment were and bumped into a group of young witches and wizards. 

"Hey, watch where you're going!" cried one, a girl wearing expensive blue robes.

"Sorry," Holly apologized, feeling herself flush.

Then she froze for she recognized some of the boys, they were ones who had chased her and threw dirt and rocks at her.  Before she could turn and leave, one of them, a dark-haired twelve-year-old, spotted her and sneered, "Well, look who it is! Hey, Squib girl, what are you doing in here? You don't have magic enough to hold a wand, much less write down spells."

The others snickered and whispered behind their hands. 

Holly felt herself go red and longed to make herself vanish.  "Hey, what's that you're holding?" demanded the first girl. 

"It's a gift.  Now leave me alone!"

"A gift? Who would want a gift from you?" the girl laughed nastily.  "A dirty Squib! They might catch a disease."

More laughter followed that remark. 

"How are you gonna pay for that, anyway?" asked the first boy, whose name was Carl Young. "You're a beggar and a garbage picker."

"I am not!" Holly said, trying to sound confident.  "I have money." She patted her pocket.

"Oh yeah?" said another, a stocky blond boy called Jessie Tull.  "Where'd you get it? Pick somebody's pocket, huh?"

"No!  I'm not a thief!" She turned to leave, but Jessie grabbed her arm.

"Not so fast, Squib! If you stole that money, it's only fair you share it . . .with the rest of us."

"No!" she struggled to free herself, but the boy was quite strong.  "I didn't steal it, now leave off!"

"Make me!" he grinned nastily, and groped for her pocket.

  "Let me go!" Holly cried, frightened.  She kicked out at the boy, her foot connecting with his shin.

"Oww! Why you little doxy!" he swore.  "I'll teach you to respect your betters . . ." He lifted a hand.

The others began to cheer.

"What's all this ruckus?" demanded the shopkeeper, coming to investigate. "You kids better clear out if you're not going to buy anything . . ."

"Sir, I am going to buy something . . ." Holly began, still trying to free her arm from the bigger boy's grasp.

"Liar! She's stolen my money, make her give it back," cried Carl, smirking.

The shopkeeper glowered down at her.  "Is that true?"

"No! I came in here to buy a present for my . . ." she stammered, uncertain what to call Severus.  Was he her guardian?

"Wait a minute! I know you, you're the Squib who came looking for a job a few weeks back," said the owner, his eyes narrowing.  "Don't tell me someone actually hired a street brat like you.  Give me that quill and whatever money you have in your pockets, girl! We don't take to thieves round here, now turn out your pockets!"

"But it's my money, sir! I came here to buy a present for Professor Snape," Holly protested.

"Oh, sure y'did!"mocked Carl.  "Like Snape would ever give you the time of day.  You're nothin' but a thief and a liar."

The owner leaned down and said sternly, "Give back what you took from this gentlemen here and I won't summon the Aurors, girl!"

Holly felt tears come to her eyes.  "I'm not a thief! It's my money, you can ask the professor!"

"You have five seconds to give back whatever you've got in your pockets," the shopkeeper ordered.

Carl and Jessie sniggered, their eyes glowing with delight and suddenly Holly was angry.  She never would have been treated this way if her mother were alive, or Severus were with her.  "No! They're the thieves, not me!" Then she stomped hard on Jessie's foot.

The boy howled and released her arm and Holly threw herself flat on the ground and wriggled through the shopkeeper's legs, making a run for the door.

"Get her!"

"Stop, thief!"

"Just wait till I catch you, Squib!"

Holly ran, desperate to escape, wanting only to find Severus or Harry.  She bolted out of the shop, still clutching the quill to her, her heart slamming crazily in her chest.  She needed to hide, but where?

She practically slammed right into Harry, who was just coming up to the store to meet her, he had finished his purchases and was happy he had gotten exactly what he had wanted for Severus' birthday. "Oh! Harry, they think . . .I mean . . ." she was stuttering so badly she could hardly speak, her eyes wild and frightened, like that of a hunted animal.

"Holly, what's wrong?" Harry asked softly.

She opened her mouth to reply when the door to the shop burst open behind her and the gang of troublemakers who had been harassing her plus the shopkeeper came outside.

"Ah ha! There she is-the dirty Squib!" crowed Jessie.  He latched onto Holly's shoulder, a nasty gleam in his eye.

"Hey! You leave her alone!" Harry cried, furious.  He hated bullies and he sensed that this boy was one of the worst. "Get off her, what's she done to you?"

"She stole money from somebody and she's a Squib, that's all y'need to know!" yelled the shopkeeper.

"That's a lie, Harry! I only have the money you gave me!"

"Who'd give a scummy Squib like you money, girlie?" sneered a tall girl.

"I would.  And I did.  Holly's no thief," Harry defended the little girl staunchly.  He glared angrily at the other kids.  "Now leave off, will you? You got no right to treat her like this."

"Who the bloody hell are you, to tell me what to do?" snarled Jessie. 

"The name's Snape.  Harry Snape." Harry replied, feeling his temper start to spike. "Now, for the last time . . .let her GO!"

"And if I don't?" mocked the older boy.  "You gonna run and tell your daddy?  Bet he won't like to hear you've been defending no-account lying scummy Squibs."

That did it.  Harry reached out a hand to try and drag the other boy's hand off Holly, bending a finger back. 

Jessie yelped and released Holly, only to take a swing at Harry. 

Harry ducked, but not quite fast enough.  The other's fist caught him on the lip and he hissed as his lip started to swell and bleed a little.  But he shook off the pain and slammed the other kid with his own right hook, catching him in the nose.

The other boy howled, blood spurting and charged Harry, knocking him down.

The other kids watching began to scream, "Fight! Fight! Go to it, Jessie! Teach the little Squib-lover who's boss."

The two rolled on the ground, kicking and pummeling like two wild things.

Suddenly, one of Jessie's friends decided to join in, since Harry was winning, and put out a foot and tripped Harry. 

"You rotten cheating git!" screeched Holly, furious at the underhanded trick, and then she forgot she was afraid of the bigger boys and jumped on Carl's back, her tiny fists pummeling and yanking at the bigger boy's hair and head.

"Owww! Get off, you damn little brat!" Carl yelled, reaching back a hand to pull Holly off him.

Dangling in the air, Holly was helpless to dodge the slaps and blows of some of the other young witches and wizards, all of whom bore extreme prejudices against Squibs and were quite willing to take advantage of her predicament.

It was then that the shopkeeper, perhaps fearing a lawsuit, decided to intervene, and broke up the fight between Harry and Jessie and by extension Holly and her tormentors as well. "All right, enough! Break it up and go home!" he bellowed, and the others groaned but quickly left the scene of the crime. "Come along, you two troublemakers! I'm going to Floo call your father, Mr. Snape, we'll see what he has to say about your unseemly behavior."

Harry wanted to tell the man to go bugger himself, he was so mad, but he knew it would only get him in more trouble, so he said instead, "You don't need to Floo him, he's here.  Talking to the press."

"Oh? Yes, I think I did see something in the paper this morning about him rescuing a child."

"That child was me!" Holly put in, though her words came out garbled because she had a fat lip and a bloody nose.  She was a mess, her face bruised, her hair limp about her face, her new clothes had dirt and blood all over them. 

"As for you-you're going to pay a visit to Auror Headquarters, and we'll see about punishing you for your thieving ways.  Figures, you're no better than you ought to be!"

"She's not a thief!" Harry objected, talking slowly because he too had a split lip.  "I gave her money to buy a quill, you stupid, bigoted . . ." he trailed off at the man's look of utter disbelief and fury.

"No? Then how did she come by this?" He indicated the quill in the box on the ground, miraculously it had not been damaged in the scuffle. "That is a quill from my store-unpaid for!"

"I-I never meant to bring it out here, sir!" Holly sniffled.  ‘I was going to buy it and was looking at some paper when those kids saw me and started picking on me."

The shopkeeper snorted.  "A likely story. Tell it to the Aurors." He began to haul the two children down the street, scowling.

Just then Severus happened to be coming that way, figuring his son and Holly were done with their little expedition and wanting to eat something.  He had finally managed to ditch the "vampire press" as he liked to call the Prophet reporters, because they sucked the life out of a story and out of a person's personal life, like a vampire sucked blood from a victim, without mercy or conscience.  His eyes widened in shock as he beheld his son and Holly, in the grip of an irate wizard, both of them looking like they had been thrashed within an inch of their lives.

"Harry? Holly? What in Merlin's holy name happened to you?"

"Dad!" Harry cried, struggling a bit in the shopkeeper's grip.  "Tell him to quit calling Holly a thief.  He insists she stole a bloody quill from him and money from some stupid snot, when it's not true!"

Severus's eyes narrowed.  "Let my son and my ward go, Mr.-?"

"Stibbons," said the shopkeeper stiffly.  "Mr. Snape, if I let this . . .pickpocket go, she will vanish into the streets like a typical Squib.  And it is not my policy to let a thief roam free."

"I assure you, she will not run off," Severus said silkily, fixing Stibbons with a sharp glare.  "Will you, Holly?"

"No, sir.  Why should I? I didn't do anything.  Except go into a shop with money and get branded a criminal." She sniffed and then lifted her head proudly, reminding Severus eerily of her father.

 "Start at the beginning, if you will, Miss Sinclair." Severus said, ignoring the sputtering of Stibbons, who was clearly shocked he would ask a youngster's opinion first, especially a Squib's. 

Holly did, and by the time she had finished, and Harry had added his own version of events, Severus was hard put to control his quicksilver temper."You have something to add?"

"Well, I've seen her before, Professor Snape, hanging around my shop," began Stibbons, in a servile whine.  "Asked for a job once, she did, but I don't hire the likes o'her.  Just ain't done, hiring Squibs. Then she shows up with a pocketful o' money, when she was beggin' for scraps before, what was I to think? And one of the other kids accused her o' stealing, and it seemed likely, so I was going to take her to the Aurors and let them deal with her like she deserved."

"Oh, were you?" He gave Stibbons a glare that made the other wizard blanch and take several steps backward, then said, inbetween gritted teeth, "You have persecuted this child for no other reason than that she bears little magic, just like the majority of wizards here.  You disgust me, all of you! Because of people like you, this girl nearly died, frozen to death in the street! A little girl who had done no harm to anyone save been born without the gift of magic. And for that she is treated like dirt and paid no more heed than a stray cur. Your bigotry is shameful and I will not tolerate it. This child is under my protection, and I shall assume responsibility for her actions. You have no right to accuse her without proof."

"B-but . . .she stole a quill from my shop!"

"Unintentionally," Severus interjected.  "Holly, pay the man.  How much for it?" The obsidian eyes narrowed. He picked up the box with the quill and opened it, examined it briefly, and set it back in the box. "And be warned, I know the proper price for a quill of this kind, so don't think you can cheat her."

Stibbons sputtered but in the end named a fair price for the quill and the ink Holly had chosen as well.  Holly paid him, and Stibbons took the money grudgingly.  "Pleasure doing business with you," he added stiffly at the Potion Master's warning glower.  He knew better than to cross the renowned Severus Snape-renowned for his duties as spy for the Order of the Phoenix and also a combat master.  "Good day to you."

Then Stibbons marched back to his shop, stiff with indignation, muttering under his breath about Squib-lovers.

Severus shook his head at both children and said, "Well, we cannot go out to lunch looking like this, so we shall go home, and there we will have a very long talk about fighting, for you both ought to know better."

"We're in trouble for defending ourselves?" Harry cried.

"Enough, Harry.  We shall discuss this at home," Severus said sternly, and Harry quieted. He knew better than to cross Severus when he used that tone.  "Take my hands, both of you."

The two obeyed and Severus Apparated back to his home, all of their pleasure in the recent outing spoiled.

* * * * * *

Once he had fixed up the various scrapes and bruises the two had obtained, he led them into the kitchen, where he proceeded to lecture them sternly about the value of keeping one's temper and seeking alternatives to using their fists.

"But Dad, we were provoked," Harry argued.

"I am aware of that, Harry, nevertheless, you should have come and gotten me, not started a brawl with another boy.  You know my rules about fighting, young man."

Harry dropped his eyes then. "Yes, sir. Sorry, Dad." He sighed gustily.  "How long am I grounded for?"

"A week should be sufficient.  That goes for you as well, Miss Sinclair." He frowned at Holly, who nodded and lowered her eyes as well.  "You will also write for me a two foot essay on how you could have avoided this whole altercation and go to bed early tonight, after supper.  Harry, your grounding also includes no flying." His son groaned, but didn't protest, knowing it was deserved. He turned to Holly.  "If you had a broom, I would also restrict you, but since you do not, you will be doing clean-up with me in my lab for two hours a day."

"Yes, sir.  I'm sorry, sir." Holly apologized, swallowing sharply to keep from crying.  The Potion Master's disapproval stung her worse than a thousand switches. 

"Sorry is all well and good, but you must learn control over your emotions, both of you.  Now, off with you.  Begin your essays, I will call you in an hour for lunch." Severus dismissed them.

They headed straight for Harry's room, where Harry handed Holly a quill and parchment and shared half of his large desk, so they could both write their essays at the same time.  Holly looked down at her blank parchment and mumbled, "I'm sorry, Harry, for getting you in trouble."

"What?" Harry lifted his nose from his parchment and stared at her.  "It's not your fault.  Those dumb gits started it, not you.  And Stibbons too."

"But if I'd stayed with you, none of this would have happened. I know what they think of me."

"Hey.  You ought to be able to go into any shop in Diagon Alley and not have to worry about somebody calling you a thief or starting a row with you.  You shouldn't need to be my shadow."

"I know.  But I'm a Squib and that means wizards think I'm beneath them."

"Then they're plain stupid and I'm glad I punched out that ass," Harry said stubbornly.  "I'd do it again if I had to.  I'm sorry I broke Dad's rule about fighting in public, but I'm not sorry I knocked the twit's teeth out.  He deserved it, hurting you like that."

Holly looked up at him through her lashes.  "Thanks.  I think.  But I'm still sorry I got you in trouble."

Harry shrugged.  "Shoot, you think this the first time I've ever gotten grounded? Or made to write an essay, or lines? Dad can be awful strict sometimes.  But he's also fair.  And like I said before, I'd pummel the big idiot again for saying such nasty things about you."

Holly flushed, for she had never had anyone defend her that way since her mother had died.  And Harry wasn't even a relative. "Why?"

"Because that's how it should be.  Would be, if you were really my sister." He smiled at her.  "And you didn't do so bad yourself, Miss Sinclair.  That kid was bleeding like a fountain after you belted him."

"Well, I picked up a little self-defense when I lived on my own," she admitted softly, her hair sliding forward to cover her face. He thinks of me as a sister.  How I wish that were so. A warm glow burned in her, driving out the chill of her father's rejection somewhat.  "I hate bullies."

"So do I."  Harry agreed.  "Okay, we'd better get working on these essays.  Soonest begun is soonest done, as Dad says."

Holly nodded, then bent to her paper, determined not to bring any more trouble on the Potions Master or his son, otherwise Severus might reconsider his decision and show her the door. After all, she was a mere foundling, and he owed her nothing. She wrote hastily, hoping to convince Severus of her remorse and promising to do better.

Harry paused, then remarked, "And at least there's one good thing about this whole situation.  We both got Dad's birthday present."

"Right. Uh, when is his birthday, Harry?"

"January 9th.  Wednesday," answered Harry, then he went back to writing.

* * * * * *

Once the children had been sent to bed, Severus took the two essays into his study to read.  Harry's was his son's typical, I'm sorry I disappointed you, Dad, I'll try and control myself next time.  I should have counted to ten, or walked away, or gotten an adult, but instead I just saw that creep grabbing Holly and I lost it.  I know I ought to know better, but you know how I hate bullies, sir.  Holly didn't deserve to be targeted like that, I HAD to defend her, Dad, even though I know fighting like that is wrong.  But I really am sorry.  Next time I'll try and think before I act. Promise.

Severus had to smile a little at his son's declaration.  Clearly, Harry though a pureblood, had inherited none of their intolerance, and Severus was proud of Harry's determination and willingness to defend those who couldn't fight back.  He had a good heart, like his mother, even if he did need to work on controlling his temper.  That was something Severus struggled with to this day, and he resolved to spend more time with Harry, teaching him meditation techniques to keep his temper under wraps.

He moved on to Holly's, expecting something similar.  But what he found was more than a simple "I'm sorry". 

Severus,

I really am sorry to cause you and Harry so much trouble.  It's not fair, you helped me and all I do is make more problems for you.  First with the newspaper and then my father and now this.  I know this is the last thing you need or want and I'll understand if you decide to tell me to leave.  But I really am sorry and I promise I'll do better so you won't have to worry about me embarrassing you or anything like that.  I really do love it here, it almost reminds me of my home. Please give me another chance, please. 

I know you don't have to, nobody else would have done what you did, but please please don't kick me out.  I never got into trouble before my mother died, I swear on her grave, and if you let me stay I'll behave and not get into anymore trouble. I know I'm nothing but a worthless Squib, even though you're too kind to say so, I should have just left the shop instead of trying to argue, no one ever believes people like me anyway.  You're the first, sir, and look how I repaid you. Now they'll be talking even more about you and your privacy is ruined and it's all my fault.

I'm so sorry, Severus!

A large splotch marred the next line, as if she had been crying as she was writing.

The rest of the letter was five ways that the fight could have been avoided, as he had requested, but it was the sheer desperation in her words that struck him to the core.  Plainly she was terrified that he would become so disgusted with her that he would send her back out into the cold and dark.  Like her father had done.

Severus shook his head.  Ah, Merlin help me.  She is so damaged by Lucius that I wonder if she will ever learn how to trust men again.  I must speak with her tomorrow, make her see that no matter what she does, I will never abandon her or throw her out of my house.  Yet he feared that mere words were not enough.

The girl needed time, time to heal, and time to trust. 

It was a good thing he had requested an extra week before returning to Hogwarts, for he would have time to establish a tentative relationship as a guardian with the child and set up sessions with Healer Susan Keegan, who could hopefully instill in her a sense of her own worth, and heal some of the terrible harm Malfoy had inflicted. 

And when he returned to Hogwarts, he would take both of them with him this time, for only by keeping them close by could he ensure they were safe from Lucius.  It was nearly time for Harry to begin his magical education anyway, and he had as good a background in Muggle schooling as any primary school teacher, he could tutor Holly himself, and thereby spare her the torment of bullies, Muggle and wizard.

But for now, he would sleep, and let tomorrow bring what it would.  He carefully set aside the essays, Noxed the lamp, and retreated to his room.  As he lay in bed, he wondered idly what Albus and Minerva would think of his actions.  Not that he owed them any kind of explanation, but he did hope they would support him a little.  But if not, he would manage, as he always had.  He had always been known as an eccentric, brilliant, reclusive wizard, one who followed his own path, regardless of popular opinion.  This was no different. 

Yawning, he turned over and buried his face in the pillow.  Within moments he was fast asleep, as were the rest of the members of the Snape household, save for Silver, who remained on guard till dawn broke, as always.