The remainder of the journey to Hogwarts went by much more quickly than Harry had expected. Ron and Hermione avoided saying anything about Snape or Harry’s summer and had instead focused all their attention on Salem.

Admittedly, this would have gone better if Hermione hadn’t been so squeamish about snakes, but Harry had managed to distract her long enough by pestering her about when he was going to get his birthday gifts. She refused to tell him anything further than that there was going to be a late night party held in Gryffindor Tower for him. From the snootiness of her voice, it was obvious she disapproved of people holding parties on school nights.

Ron, on the other hand, seemed to adore the idea of a snake that could understand everything he said and constantly asked Harry to translate Salem’s hissing so he could hear more about how the Ophidian had driven the pet shop lady up the wall.

Harry was, yet again, in the middle of describing the time when Salem had convinced all the other snakes to escape from their tank, via a convenient branch, when the train finally arrived in Hogsmeade.

The hustle and bustle that followed left very little room for talking and Harry was forced to hurry, Hedwig’s cage stuffed under one arm and his trunk being tugged along by the other, in order not to be crushed by the masses.

“This is stupid,” he hissed after yet another person banged into Hedwig’s cage, causing her to shriek and wildly beat her wings. “Ron, Hermione, I’m going to let her out. See you later, OK?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, mate. We’ll stay with you.”

He nodded thankfully at Ron and began shoving his way sideways through the crowd, grateful, for the first time, of his newly gained height. Ducking into one of the shadows of the platform, all three of them sighed in relief as the buffeting stopped.

Hedwig hooted piteously and Harry immediately busied himself about letting her out of the cage. “It’s all right, girl. You’ll be able to stretch your wings in a minute.” He released the catch and opened the cage door wide. “Off you go then! See you tomorrow.”

Hedwig eagerly leapt out and swooped away into the darkness; a white spectre against the black of night. Harry watched her go and then eyed the heaving platform with distaste. “Let’s wait here a while, shall we?”

His friends agreed readily, Hermione especially looked very grateful that they wouldn’t have to move just yet. They were a couple of moments filled with comfortable silence, where they simply stared out over the many bobbing heads filling the platform.

“Look, there’s Hagrid!” Harry waved, but he got the impression that the shadows had hidden him too well for Hagrid to notice.

“Never mind, Harry. We’ll see him in Care of Magical Creatures, won’t we?” Hermione said consolingly.

Harry nodded, feeling vaguely uneasy that by now Hagrid must have found something new and scary with huge teeth to terrify the class with. He was just about to voice this thought when he recognised someone else amongst the crowd. “Look! There’s Malfoy!”

Instinctively all three of them dipped deeper into the shadows and glared at the blonde haired boy.

“Not looking so smug this year, is he?” Ron sneered. “Maybe his daddy took away his favourite broom for being such a self-righteous arse!”

Harry laughed quietly as he remembered something. “It’s better than that, Ron.”

“What?”

“Malfoy’s mummy and daddy were put in Azkaban for trying to kidnap me and he had to spend the last two weeks of the summer with Dumbledore!”

“You’re joking!”

They gave each other sideways glances and started snorting with laughter. Hermione didn’t seem to share the humour.

“Stop it you two! I would have thought that after last year that you’d have realised Azkaban is no place to laugh about!” she spat, giving them both a vicious glare.

Harry felt a niggle of guilt settle in his stomach. “Well, they did deserve it while Padfoot didn’t,” he mumbled to his feet. Ron looked a little abashed too.

Hermione threw up her hands. “Boys! What will it take for you two to learn a little compassion?”

The silence between them was an uncomfortable one after that, despite the fact that a small part of Harry felt vindictively glad that Draco Malfoy had suffered that summer. That didn’t make him feel any better about himself, though.

“Come on, let’s go.” Hermione led them out onto the now-empty platform and towards the carriages. She still didn’t seem to want to talk to them, so Harry tried to fill the oppressive silence by asking them each how their summers had gone.

Luckily, Ron wanted to end the quiet as much as Harry did and started babbling on about de-gnomings and Quidditch and how Hermione had constantly badgered them all about their homework. At this point, Hermione felt obliged to object, and the rest of the journey to Hogwarts was once again filled with conversation.

When they finally climbed out of the carriage and walked up the steps to the castle, Harry had felt a wonderful sense of homecoming and joy that this year, not only was he once again at the place he truly considered to be his home, but that he was also able to share it with a father. His father.

Of course, these positive feelings were shattered the second that Snape came up behind them and glared at him. Even after the man had swooped past and left, there was only one thing that Harry could think about.

What did I do?

Harry barely heard his friends’ curious voices over the questions resounding in his head.

Why is he acting like this? What on Earth did I do?

Ron had grabbed his elbow and was leading him into the Great Hall, but Harry barely noticed. Why is Snape behaving like he always did before? I must have done something... But what?

He felt himself being pushed into his seat at the Gryffindor table, but didn’t bother to look up from studying the wood grain. He absolutely refused to believe that Snape was treating him differently simply because of the fact that they were back at Hogwarts.

The man had been perfectly decent to him only that morning, even going so far as to gently squeeze Harry’s shoulder when he had dropped him off just outside King’s Cross. That touch had meant more to Harry than he could say, or even express, for all he had been able to do was nod dumbly back and start making his way towards Platform Nine and Three Quarters. As it was at the time, Snape’s acknowledgement had helped to calm some of the snakes writhing in his gut.

So what did I do? Harry worried his lip between his teeth and frowned at the table. He looked quite upset... At least as far as I can tell. He wasn’t just behaving like his normal greasy git self, so I must have done something that set him off balance.

He flicked his eyes towards the corner of his glasses that Shadow normally resided in to ask for advice and felt a sharp pang when he realised that they were empty. It’s not as if I can ask anyone else for help with this... Was Snape annoyed that I ignored him this morning? That’s totally ridiculous! But then, Snape’s always been a bit strange as far as his reactions are concerned...

“Harry!”

Someone was shaking his shoulder and he blinked in surprise as he realised that the Sorting must have ended. The table was now covered in all kinds of wonderful looking food, but Harry discovered that he didn’t feel hungry at all. The idea that he’d hurt his caretaker, or the alternative, that he really had done something wrong and was going to be punished for it, made his stomach writhe.

“Bad luck on that, mate,” Ron said through a mouthful of chicken-leg. “Greasy git. Just ignore him. It’s not like he can help it.”

“That’s right.” Hermione hadn’t started eating yet and her hand was hovering over his arm as though she was trying to decide whether to pat it or not. “You’re so much better than him, Harry. You shouldn’t listen if he tries to put you down tonight.” She looked mortified at the idea of disregarding a teacher’s words, but seemed to think that Harry’s well-being was worth it.

Their words completely shocked Harry out of his self-reflection, though he was very touched by their sentiment. They think that Snape’s in the wrong! “No, guys, it isn’t like that at all!”

Hermione’s sympathetic expression slipped a bit, suddenly showing how frustrated she was really feeling underneath. “Really, Harry! Ignoring his behaviour like that isn’t just going to make everything better. I know... we,” she gestured to Ron and herself, “know how much you’ve wanted a father, a family, but just because you and Snape share the same blood doesn’t mean that everything is going to work out all right! You’ve... you’ve imprinted on him because it’s something you badly want, but you can’t seem to see that this whole thing is just going to end up hurting you, Harry.”

Her earnest, wide-eyed conviction that she had everything right was beginning to get on Harry’s nerves. “Listen,” he said, gritting his teeth and glancing at Ron, who, thankfully, seemed to be trying his best to ignore them both, “you weren’t there this summer. You don’t know...”

Hermione threw up her hands. “Ah! Of course we don’t know, Harry! Because you aren’t telling us! All we know is that you met us on the train and started telling us about how absolutely wonderfully your new father has been treating you, and then breaking down right in front of us! So, you tell us, Harry, you just tell us what we don’t know.” She clamped her lips together, breathing hard, and glared at him.

Harry felt his temper boil over. “Fine, Hermione! I’ll tell you what I know – what I need! I need you to be here for me, supporting me as my friend the same way you always have. What I don’t need is you suddenly thinking you know how to psychoanalyze and trying to practice it on me! I don’t need to come back to Hogwarts and suddenly be expected to be against my own family; my father! And most of all, what I don’t need is you sticking your long nose in where it doesn’t belong!”

Harry cut himself off and glared down at Hermione, vaguely noticing that he was on his feet and had been practically shouting the last few words. Most of the Gryffindor table was staring at him and some new First Years were cowering in their seats. Harry paid them no heed.

“Excuse me,” he said frostily. “I am expected in the dungeons. And when I come back, I don’t want to hear anything else against Severus Snape. He is my father and I’m proud of that!”

With a huff, he turned and stalked towards the large double doors at the end of the Hall. Ron was still staring at his plate, pretending not to hear Hermione nagging at him to get up and follow Harry. Harry quickened his pace in the hope that he would be out from under all of those staring eyes soon, feeling vaguely grateful that Ron had had the tact to mind his own bloody business.

The dungeons were a welcome relief from the spotlight of curiosity that had tried to pin him like a Potions specimen in the Great Hall. Their cool, dark corridors offered many shadows and places to hide and, not for the first time, Harry wondered what his life would have been like if he had allowed the Sorting Hat to put him in Slytherin.

Would Snape be more proud of me if that were the case? Oh well, no way to find out now. Harry slowly ran his hand along the wall, letting its firm coolness sooth his anger a little. The last thing he needed was to be already irritated when dealing with a bad-tempered Snape. Harry shook his head and pursed his lips. Hermione really should have known better than to try and change his opinion on the matter, but then, she never had known when to leave something well-enough alone.

Maybe I shouldn’t have been so hard on her just then, but, really! It wasn’t kind of her to do something like that. Why doesn’t she think I’m old enough to learn to make my own mistakes? Not that accepting Snape is a mistake, of course.

He couldn’t help but feel relieved that Ron had obviously already accepted Harry’s stance on things. He’d had his little rant on the train, but must have decided that Harry’s judgement on the matter must be better than his own.

Ron had always been very straight forward and very loyal. Though sometimes he could be a bit jealous, Harry found that he didn’t mind this because Ron always seemed to keep it under control. And besides, there was no way that Ron would be jealous over having Snape as a father! It was obvious that he still didn’t like the man, but was trying to be decent about it for Harry’s sake.

Which brings us back to why Hermione couldn’t manage to do the same... Harry sighed and shook his head, forcing his emotions deep down underneath his magic. The heaviness of the magic inside him seemed perfect for weighing down unwanted thoughts. Recently, Harry had found that he could control his power much more easily. The unreliability of it seemed to have completely gone, and though it had decreased in strength, it was much more useful now than it had ever been.

With a jolt, Harry realised that he was standing outside the door to Snape’s office. A wave of anxiety threatened to consume him, but he gritted his teeth and knocked firmly three times.

“Enter!” a harsh voice snapped and Harry winced at its tone as he pushed the door open. One thing was for sure, he was not going to enjoy the coming conversation!

Snape was standing before the fire, his back facing the office door, yet Harry still could sense the barest whisper of his father’s magic verifying his identity. He tried to make contact with it by reaching out with some of his own, but it slithered away before Harry could touch it. He winced again. He really hadn’t realised how angry his father must be.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” Harry’s voice came out thin, seemingly absorbed by the shadows congregating around Snape’s grotesque collection of ingredients.

“Indeed,” came the soft, deadly murmur. “Do sit down, Mr Snape, and have something to eat.”

Harry gulped and eyed the plate of sandwiches he’d only just noticed resting on the desk. This scene was far too familiar for comfort, and the fact that Snape had not even bothered to turn around just added to his uneasiness. He drew in a deep breath, took the seat in front of the desk and started to choke down a couple of sandwiches, the memory of why he hadn’t been able to manage anything during dinner at the forefront of his mind.

Two sandwiches and a swallow of pumpkin juice later, he couldn’t bear the silence anymore.

“Umm,” the sharp snap of a log on the fire made him flinch, “thank you for the food. I’m done now, sir.”

“Hmm.” Snape seemed to be contemplating the mantelpiece. Then, all of a sudden, he whirled around and was across the room so quickly that Harry didn’t even have time to gasp. Snape placed his hands on either side of Harry’s chair and leaned forward menacingly. Harry couldn’t help but shrink back a little. “Doubtless you already know for which foolish act I have summoned you here,” he whispered, lips sneering back to reveal several uneven, yellow teeth.

“Umm...” Harry squirmed and tried to find the words. “No, sir. No, I’m afraid I don’t.”

An eyebrow arched and Snape slowly eased back until he was looming over Harry, arms folded across his chest. “Really? You cannot recall a single reason as to why you might possibly be here? Intriguing.”

Harry cringed at the sarcasm but screwed up his courage and straightened in his chair. “No, sir. Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Snape spat, suddenly livid. He whirled around, snatched something from behind his desk and slammed it down beside Harry. “You call this, nothing?”

Harry grudgingly tore his eyes from Snape’s angry face and glanced down at the book resting beside him. It was a very familiar book. Harry gasped. How did he get that? How did he get to my trunk?

He almost groaned as he realised that the students’ trunks were stored in the Entrance Hall during the feast. No wonder I didn’t notice him when I went into the Great Hall. He’d slipped back outside and was busy breaking through the wards on my trunk! 

The Prince Inheritance Book glared up at him from the desk and Snape glared down at him from above. Harry couldn’t help but feel more than a little trapped.

oooOOOooo

Severus glared down at his son’s head, feeling his temper rising with every second that the boy refused to answer him. Of all the nerve!

“Well? Have you anything at all to say for your actions?” he hissed softly.

Shamed green eyes flicked up to meet his. “I, I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t realise that you wouldn’t have wanted me to take it. I, well, I didn’t think...”

“You didn’t... think.” Severus put deliberate emphasis on the word and watched as Harry’s cheeks flushed to a dull red. He carefully schooled his face into disinterest as he waited for the boy’s reaction.

“You never said that I wasn’t allowed to take it!” Harry muttered, the first signs of defiance colouring his tone. Severus felt a hot spike of anger shoot through his gut.

“Oh?” His brows lowered over his eyes. “And so, by your definition, all thieves are well within their rights simply because the people they have stolen from did not tell them to do otherwise?”

Harry squirmed. “No...”

“Then, what?” Severus pursed his lips. He really didn’t want to feel disappointed in his only son. However, these kinds of antics were exactly what he had come to expect from Potter, so he really should have known. Yet, really, the least the boy could do was admit that he had been in the wrong.

“Mr Snape, you do not seem to be able to grasp the concept that, as Head of the Family, I must account for each and every artefact of Prince Heritage. I alone am responsible for any damage they may inflict on the general populace.” Severus slowly ran one finger down the front of the book and watched Harry gulp through his cold eyes. “I don’t suppose I’m asking too much of you to remember the repercussions that would occur should anyone not of the Prince Line touch this book.”

Harry shook his head. “Permanent disfigurement,” he mumbled to his lap.

“Precisely,” Severus hissed. He didn’t know whether he was more or less angry that Harry had already known of the consequences. “Picture, if you will, what might have occurred had one of your little friends laid hands upon this book.”

Harry’s face paled. “But... but, I was careful...”

“You were careful,” Severus roared, all thoughts of controlling his temper flying out the window. “Do you mean to say you were actually foolish enough to show them the book? They shouldn’t even have been allowed within ten feet of it!”

Harry’s eyes darkened in anger as his own control snapped, and he shot to his feet. “Stop shouting at me as though you think I’m a little child! OK, yes, it was stupid, but I didn’t let any of them touch it – not even close!”

Severus’ hands began to itch and he longed to shake the boy, to knock some sense into him, but... You will not lay hands on your son, Severus Snape! Not again. Prove to yourself that you are not your father and control your temper! His right hand flew up and he squeezed the bridge of his nose hard as he forced himself to listen to his internal monologue. Harry will not react well if you try to smack him again. At the moment he is behaving like a normal, infuriating adolescent. You should be glad!

His thoughts helped a little, but not much. He let his hand drop and deliberately took a step forward into Harry’s personal space as he glared at him. Harry refused to be cowed and stood his ground.

“I will treat you as a small child for as long as you insist in behaving like one,” he whispered in a soft, deadly voice. “Mr Snape, today your behaviour was highly reprehensible and thoughtless. As you can still clearly not see how very dangerous what you did was, I shall have to punish you accordingly...” He trailed off and felt a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth at seeing Harry’s balled fists.

“Since you took something dear to me, the only sensible course is to take something precious from you. Would you not agree?”

Harry did not answer.

After waiting another few seconds for his son to respond, Severus shrugged one shoulder and turned to walk towards his store cupboard. Opening the door, he carefully pulled out what was resting inside and listened to Harry’s startled gasp.

“This,” Severus said as he brandished the Firebolt, “is symbolic–”

He was cut off by Harry. “No! You can’t! I’ve only just got that back!”

It was true. The errant Firebolt had reappeared in the Owlery two days before the start of term.

“Mr Snape, I assure you, I can and I will. Now, as I was saying before I was so impolitely interrupted...” Severus broke off and gave Harry a hard look, “this is symbolic of what I wish your punishment to consist of.

“So, not only will I have confiscated your broom... this also means that you will not be allowed to fly until I decide you have served your punishment as I see fit! This means no Quidditch whatsoever; no practices and no matches.

“Instead, I wish for you to watch all matches you do not participate in from the stands, while carefully taking note of all the possible injuries and dangerous manoeuvres that you see. Punishments, after all, are meant to be educational. Hopefully by the time I have decided you have learnt your lesson, you will be well-educated enough to recognise and avoid a dangerous situation when it occurs.”

Harry was staring at Severus with his mouth open and looked to be almost shaking with anger. Severus propped the Firebolt against the wall and folded his arms once again.

“If you have progressed well enough, and have taken your punishment with the appropriate dignity, I will allow you to have your broom back and to play again by the end of this term.”

“You can’t do that!” Harry screeched as he finally exploded. “You sick bastard! How dare you! That isn’t yours to take from me! Just who do you think you are?” The boy stormed up to Severus and glared, despite the fact that he was still a great deal shorter than the man.

Severus just raised an eyebrow at the little hellion standing in front of him. “I see that once again you have yet to grasp the seriousness of the situation. Maybe I should make it two terms instead of one, just to let the impact... fully sink in.”

Harry lips pulled back into a vicious snarl and Severus could clearly see his son’s body trembling in rage. He looked so angry that he seemed to be at a loss for words. “I- you... It’s not fair. You greasy git! I HATE you!”

The boy whirled and sprinted from the room, door slamming shut behind him. Severus blew out a breath and flung his arm out to the left side of his office, unleashing his magic and letting it shatter at least a dozen of the jars resting there. It had been a real struggle to keep his volatile temper under control, but he had managed it. Now, he could only hope that Harry would be able to calm down and come to his senses soon. Despite the fact that the last time he’d had a proper conversation with him was only that morning, he found he already missed his son.

Thankfully he now has his friends to rely on. Otherwise, I would be quite worried about letting him out of my sight in a temper like that one.

Severus sighed once and set about cleaning up his office. It was time to start thinking about what to say to his new Slytherins. He couldn’t help but feel grateful Albus had decided not to directly tell the students about Harry’s true identity. There would have been hell to pay from his House if that had been the case.